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McCallion, Stephen William

SILK REELING IN MEIJI JAPAN: THE LIMITS TO CHANGE

The Ohio State University Ph.D. 1983

University Microfilms Intern étions!SOO N. zeeb Road, Ann Arbor, Ml 48106

SILK REELING IN MEIJI JAPAN;

THE LIMITS TO CHANGE

DISSERTATION

Presented in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for

the Degree Doctor of Philosophy in the Graduate

School of The Ohio State University

By

Stephen William McCallion, B.S.F.S., M.A.

*****

The Ohio State University

1983

Reading Committee; Approved By

Dr. James R. Bartholomew

Dr. Mansel G. Blackford

Dr. Samuel C. Chu Adviser Dr. John Rothney Department of History ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I am particularly indebted to my adviser. Dr. James R. Bartholomew. This dissertation would not have been possible had it not been for his constant encouragement, advice and assistance. I was also fortunate to obtain the generous help of many members of the Business History Society of Japan during my period of research in Tokyo, and I would especially like to express my gratitude to Professors Yui Tsunehiko, Nakamura Seishi, Morikawa Hidemasa and Nakagawa Keiichiro. Finally, I would like to thank Ms. Yumiko Ichikawa, under whose patient tutelage I finally learned to read and understand the historical documents upon which this work is based.

11 VITA

December 4, 1948. . . . Born - Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

1970...... B.S.F.S., Georgetown University School of Foreign Service, Washington, D.C.

1973-1974 ...... University Fellow, Department of History, The Ohio State University, Columbus, Ohio

1974-1976 ...... Teaching Associate, Department of History, The Ohio State University, Columbus, Ohio

1975...... M.A., The Ohio State University, Columbus, Ohio

1977-1980 ...... Researcher, The University of Tokyo, Tokyo, Japan

PUBLICATIONS

"Tokugawa jidai ni okeru seishigyo no kindaika no kiso." Tsuchiya Moriaki and Morikawa Hidemasa, eds., Kigyosha katsudo no shiteki kenkyu (Tokyo: Nihon Keizai Shinbunsha, 1981) .

FIELDS OF STUDY

Major Field: History of Japan, Professor James R. Bartholomew

History of Traditional China, Professor Hao Chang

History of Modern China, Professor Samuel C. Chu

History of Nineteenth-Century France, Professor John Rothney

111 TABLE OF CONTENTS

Page

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS ...... i i

VITA ...... iii

INTRODUCTION ...... 1

Chapter

I. SILK REELING IN TOKUGAWA JAPAN: PRECEDENTS FOR MODERNIZATION ...... 14

Tokugawa Policy and the Development of Silk Reeling ...... 15 Rural Society and the Development of Silk Reeling ...... 27 Silk Reeling in the Bakumatsu Period .. 43 Conclusion ...... 54

II. TRIAL AND ERROR: THE MODEL FILATURES 68

Tomioka Filature: the Making of a Model ...... 76 Tomioka under French Tutelage : the Uneasy Alliance ...... 91 Tomioka under Bureaucratic Management . 97 Tomioka Filature: an Assessment ...... 113 Maebashi Filature ...... 129 The Ministry of Industry Filature .... 136

III. GOVERNMENT POLICY AND THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE SILK-REELING INDUSTRY ...... 151

Central Government Regulation: the First Phase ...... 151 Private and Prefectural Regulatory A c t i v i t y ...... 174 Central Government Regulation: the Second Phase ...... 186 Promotion of the Silk-Reeling I n d u s t r y ...... 212 Alternatives: Hayami Kenzo and Government Policy ...... 224

IV IV. NAGANO PREFECTURE AND THE MECHANIZATION OF THE SILK-REELING INDUSTRY ...... 241

Initial Mechanization; the House of Ono in Southern Nagano ...... 248 Mechanization Takes Root: the Late 1870's ...... 258 The Cooperative Movement in Nagano .... 278 C o n c l u s i o n ...... 292

V. THE FAILURE OF MECHANIZATION: SILK REELING IN GUNMA PREFECTURE ...... 308

Early Attempts at Mechanization in Gunma ...... 311 Cooperatives in Gunma: Preserving the Past ...... 339 The Direct Export Movement C o n c l u s i o n ...... 355

VI. CONCLUSION: THE LIMITS TO CHANGE ...... 369

BIBLIOGRAPHY ...... 400 INTRODUCTION

One of the more salient features of the Japanese economy during the late nineteenth century was the strength of the nation's silk-reeling industry. For the first three decades of the Meiji period, from 1868 through the turn of the century, sales of Japanese raw silk to the West provided over forty per cent of all the nation's export revenues, and thus constituted the single most important source of the foreign capital which made possible the industrialization of other sectors of the economy.^ Indeed, the fact that Japan was able to industrialize, and to import the foreign technology and equipment necessary for the process, was due in large measure to the ability of the silk-reeling industry to perform so well on the export market. The production of raw silk increased spectacularly during this period, and by

1900 was almost eight times what it had been at the time of 2 the Meiji Restoration. Growth of such magnitude gave silk reeling a commanding position in Japan's domestic economy as well: as of 1899, the industry accounted for almost

1 two-thirds of the nation's factories, and engaged over a 3 third of the nation's industrial work force.

Despite the silk-reeling industry's importance to the economy of Meiji Japan, it has received virtually no attention from Western students of modern Japanese history— partly, no doubt, because of an inclination, until a decade or so ago, to view Japan's modernization primarily as a political phenomenon, and to regard developments in the economy, in science, in culture and the like largely as byproducts of changes in the political sphere. Only in recent years has this imbalance begun to be corrected, and much research remains to be done. In Japan, on the other hand, scholars have been much quicker to recognize the crucial importance of economic development to their nation's growth as a modern state; industries like silk reeling have therefore received substantially more attention.

Particularly since the 1960's Japanese historians have examined silk reeling during the Meiji era in considerable depth. But for better or for worse, the focus of much of their analysis has been less on the industry itself than on its position in the economy as an aggregrate. Much effort has therefore gone toward relating the growth of the silk-reeling industry to broader changes that marked Japan's economy during this period, and toward examining how the industry was influenced by, and contributed to, the development of an industrialized, capitalist Japan. On a more basic level, an increasing number of scholars have attempted to balance this broad analysis with an examination of changes in the nature of the silk-reeling process on the part of one producer or one locality, and of the way in which these changes were tied to the evolution of rural society as 4 a whole.

There is much to be said for both of these approaches; such studies are essential if we are to come to an understanding of what happened to Japan's economy during the Meiji period. Nonetheless, they are not without their drawbacks. The broader approach often relegates changes in the silk-reeling industry to the status of symptoms of much more general economic developments, and the tendency has not been altogether absent to force the discussion, rather awkwardly, into a preconceived framework of economic growth.

Hence, much attention has been paid to the development of financial networks for the silk-reeling industry, especially those involving merchant capitalists based in Yokohama, because, the theory has it, the Meiji government took unusual steps to protect this group as part of a deliberate policy to foster the development of monopoly capitalism. Similarly, the attempt to view the growth of the silk-reeling industry primarily or exclusively as a reflection of changes in the nature of rural Japan— the breakup of traditional farm society, the rise of tenancy, the growth of a landlord class, and the progressive impoverishment of the peasantry— leads to an interpretation of the mechanization of silk reeling, for example, as a result of the collapse of traditional patterns of labor. This collapse, it is said, enabled some to accumulate the wherewithal to build Western-style factories, and forced others to offer their labor, or that of their children, to these men.

Because technological developments in particular have received cursory treatment, there has been little substantive debate among Japanese scholars as to their nature and causes. Such disagreement as does exist concerns less the silk-reeling industry itself than its importance, or lack thereof, to the development of the pre-World /far II Japanese economy, and the role of the central government in fostering or hindering the industry's growth. Though some scholars have devoted considerable attention to the matter of technological change in the silk-reeling industry, on the whole the process has been neglected. It is rarely regarded as an economic and cultural phenomenon in its own right, but rather as a secondary result, more or less, of larger economic trends which are deemed imperatives. It is the object of this study to help redress this, by examining how and why technological development did— or, in some cases, did not— take place in Japan's silk-reeling industry in the latter half of the nineteenth century.

Probably the most important influence on this development was the fact that the silk-reeling industry was not at all new to Japan, and indeed had roots that extended

considerably back into the nation's history. The enduring

peace of the Tokugawa period (1615-1867) had, moreover,

allowed the industry to grow irapressivly, so that, by the

time trade with the West began in 1359 and a huge new market

opened up for raw silk, Japan's silk reelers were able to

respond to that market with a product that, despite some

qualitative problems, was essentially on a par with what was

being produced in China and Europe. Silk reeling was

therefore fundamentally different from other industries that

experienced rapid growth in the late nineteenth century and

that had no feasible precedent upon which to build— or with

which to contend. When Western silk-reeling technology was

introduced to Japan shortly after the Meiji Restoration, it

was not, for most who encountered it, a matter of mastering

entirely new tools and techniques to produce a heretofore

unknown item: silk had been known and valued for centuries,

and the traditional production process was not so far removed

from the new as to make the latter unfathomable, or

overwhelmingly superior. Silk reelers had three options here: to adopt the imported Western technology wholesale, to

modify this technology to existing production techniques in

accordance with their means and their needs, or to reject it

out of hand in favor of a continued reliance on time-honored

methods. In the end, the first option proved impossible in the first decades of the Meiji era. Only the central government went this route, with Tomioka Filature; and, as we shall see, it very quickly came to regret the undertaking. Much of the discussion in this work centers on the prefectures of Gunma and Nagano, which together produced well over half of all

Japan's raw silk during the late nineteenth century, and it is clear from an examination of these areas that modification and rejection of the new technology were both exercised with rigor. Though not necessarily any less ambitious than public officials, the average silk producer was of far humbler means, and there was never really any question of his following in the government's footsteps. Invariably, those who chose to take up mechanized silk reeling or to mechanize an operation that already existed utilized a technology substantially simpler than the Western original. What was involved here was not, strictly speaking, innovation. The techniques and equipment used were not new; but their introduction and employment in Japan were new, and producers demonstrated a considerable degree of ingenuity in adapting them to the Japanese context. This adaptation involved a good deal of trial and error, and the results were usually far from ideal. But the changes undertaken by Nagano's silk producers reflect the fact that, numerically at least, the process of mechanization was spectacularly successful. At the same time, producers in Gunma and other areas

with exceptionally long-established silk-reeling industries

continued to operate much as they had for centuries, in

stubborn defiance of the new alternatives; and by and large

they were able to do very well at it until the twentieth

century. These contrasting trends suggest that the role of

tradition in determining how individuals or groups in similar circumstances respond to something novel is by no means always uniform; that tradition can, on the one hand, help ease the transition to a different means of production by accomodating itself to what is new and thereby allowing a gradual adoption of the latter, and, on the other hand, prove an impenetrable wall of resistance to anything that smacks of difference.

But it was not simply the force of tradition that worked against the mechanization of Japan's silk-reeling

industry. Much of the responsibility for the difficulties encountered were a result of the activities of the Meiji government. Although its early sponsorship of the elaborate model filature at Tomioka seemed to indicate a genuine public commitment to the rapid diffusion of Western reeling technology, and therefore to augur well for the development of the industry, in the end the government did little to encourage the process. It adopted a series of policies, often contradictory and often not much more than a repetition of the misguided meddling of the Tokugawa Shogunate in the 3

Bakumatsu years. Worse still, the primarily political

concerns which motivated the government, at least with regard

to the silk-reeling industry, were to result in policies that not only did little to foster the conversion to mechanized

production but actually contributed to the preservation of

the traditional alternative. One sees little of the

foresight and shrewdness commonly attributed to the Meiji

leadership in its attitude toward the silk-reeling industry.

One of the original aims of this work was to examine how the Japanese went about importing and diffusing Western technology, and to suggest thereby how Third World nations might pursue a similar process today. It was a lofty aim indeed, and one which proved not only impossible but largely irrelevant. It is clear to me now, as it should have been

from the start, that Meiji Japan struggled to become an industrialized nation under circumstances far more conducive to that end than those with which poor, underdeveloped countries are now saddled. The silk-reeling industry is a case in point. Both the demand for Japanese raw silk and the price Western nations were willing to pay for it increased steadily between 1859 and 1900, largely because of the growth of the previously insignificant American market, and despite the very limited extent to which Japan's silk-reeling industry either converted to Western production techniques or instituted qualitative improvements in output. As a result,

Japan's silk producers were able to adjust very gradually, if at all, to the technology imported from the West without

jeopardizing their ability to market their output.

The steady increase in sales of silk to the West also encouraged such diffusion of Western reeling techniques as did take place, quite apart from the fact that the

inclination to share information of this kind already existed and had done much to spur the development of the industry in the Tokugawa period. There was no reason to conceal any technical information one had obtained for fear that others might find out and that, by doing likewise, they might gain a competitive advantage; producers in these years were always able to sell their raw silk, and they knew it. It was, in fact, to one's advantage to see that information likely to improve output quality received as wide a circulation as possible, because an overall improvement in quality could only lead to better prices on the export market. This extremely favorable situation was a crucial determinant in the ability of Japan's silk-reeling industry to thrive and to grow as enormously as it did during the late nineteenth century. It is difficult to think of any parallel now, save the situation enjoyed by oil-exporting nations; and even that may well prove rather ephemeral.

But the problem goes deeper than economics. There is nowadays an abundance of evidence to indicate that the transfer of knowledge from one culture to another is not simply a matter of providing equipment and instructors. 10 sending promising young people to Western schools for training, and the like. Technology itself may be essentially a-cultural, but its utilization and appreciation are not, and seem in fact dependent for their success on the existence of some very specific values and preconditions.

Japan at the time of the Meiji Restoration was fortunate because, in many respects, it was well suited to take on the task of industrialization. It had, most importantly, an extremely high rate of literacy, even among the peasant population; with this went a respect for the pursuit and application of knowledge— surely a prerequisite for the adoption, in however modified a form, of new technology. Japan also had a society which, as a whole, considered economic prosperity a sufficiently worthwhile objective to warrant experimentation and the risk it entailed, and to justify spending a significant portion of one's life doing things that, though frequently tiring and unpleasant, promised some degree of financial gain.^ Meiji

Japan, in other words, was a society whose values and social structure were congenial to the values and practices of a mechanized, industrialized world. The same cannot be said of many of the nations of today's Third World; and the very intracacy and depth of these cultures renders them less likely to undergo the kind of experience Japan and its people underwent to become what they are today. I do not mean to suggest that poor, non-industrialized societies are inferior 11 to Japan or to other industrialized nations in any way that

is of consequence; but I do think that the attempt to find or create parallels between their present condition and that of

Japan a century ago is not a very fruitful enterprise.

This is not to denigrate Japan's achievement, for we are supplied almost daily with evidence of how remarkable it is; nor is it to deny the significance of the silk-reeling industry's performance during the Meiji period, for the industry provided much of the capital needed to transform what had been a feudal society, largely cut off from the rest of the world, into a modern industrial state. But the real historical importance of that industry lies less in its financial contribution to the development of other areas of the economy than in its own pattern of growth. The pattern tells us a good deal about the way in which part of one traditional society, under a very particular set of circumstances, went about incorporating new techniques and new knowledge. 12

Notes to Introduction

^Based on statistics in Dai Nihon Sanshikai Shinano Shikai, ed., Shinano sanshigyo shi, 3 vols., (Nagano: Dai Nihon Sanshikai Shinano Shikai, 1937), 3:1486-90 (hereafter cited as Shinano, SSS).

^Based on statistics in Nôshômushô Nomukyoku, ed., Sanshigyo ni kansuru sanko shiryo (Tokyo: Nôshômushô, 1916), pp. 60-62.

3see Nôshômushô Shôkôkyoku Kômuka Kôjô Chôsa Gakari, éd., Kôjô chôsa yôryô (Tokyo: Nôshômushô, 1902), pp. 1-7 for statistics. The figures are based on a nationwide survey taken in 1899. A "factory" is defined as a mechanized operation with at least ten employees, or a non-mechanized one with at least thirty.

^The most important monographs on the silk-reeling industry to appear in Japan in recent years include Yagi Akio, Nihon kindai seishigyô no seiritsu (Tokyo: Ochanomizu Shobô, 1960); Ishii Kanji, Nihon sanshigyo shi bunseki (Tokyo: Tokyo Daigaku Shuppankai, 1972); Yamamoto Saburo, Seishigyô kindaika no kenkyu (Maebashi: Gunma-ken Bunka Jigyô Shinkôkai, 1975) ; Ehado Akira, Sanshigyo chiiki no keizai chiriteki kenkyg (Tokyo: Kokon Shoin, 1969); Yamaguchi Kazuo, ed., Nihon sangyô kin'yüshi kenkyu: seishi kin'yu hen (Tokyo: Tokyo Daigaku Shuppankai, 1966); and Takizawa Hideki, Nihon shihonshugi to sanshigyô (Tokyo: Miraisha, 1978). With the exception of Yagi's work, which deals exclusively with the Okaya region of Nagano prefecture, all of these studies consider the silk-reeling industry as a whole, and attempt to relate its development to general economic trends. Ishii's work offers the most comprehensive analysis of technological change, and his categorization of mechanized filatures is particularly useful. In addition, a number of shorter works deal exclusively with the matter of technological development. Most prominent among these are Takeda Yasuhiro and Itô Masayoshi, "Seishigyo no tenkai," in Okaya Shiyakusho, ed., Okaya shishi, 3 vols. (Okaya: Okaya Shiyakusho, 1976); Takeda Yasuhiro, "1870 Nendai Nagano-ken kikai seishi no tenkai katei no kentô," Shinano vol. 30 no. 2 (February 1978): 111-28 and vol. 30 no. 3 (March 1978): 213-27; and Otsuka Katsuo, "Seishigyô ni okeru gijutsu dônyû," in Urnemura Mataji, ed., Nihon keizai no hatten (Tokyo: Nihon Keizai Shinbun Sha, 1976). 13

Sgee, for example, Robert Bellah, Tokugawa Religion (Boston: Beacon Press, 1970). Bellah concludes that the "central values" of Japanese society were, by 1868, "distinctly favorable to the rise of industrial society." CHAPTER I

SILK REELING IN TOKUGAWA JAPAN:

PRECEDENTS FOR MODERNIZATION

Japan's silk-reeling industry is commonly assumed to have begun to modernize only after the Meiji Restoration in

1868. Many scholars, particularly in the West, see this modernization (to the extent it occured at all) largely as the result of efforts on the part of the government and a few private interests to introduce new techniques and machinery, and to oversee their diffusion within the major production areas; and they see in this the basis for the industry's subsequently spectacular growth.^ Correspondingly short shrift is given to developments prior to 1368. But much of what took place in the industry, expecially through the

1880's, was not new. Western-style machinery was, of course, a novelty, but one can see ample precedent in the Tokugawa experience for the way Japan's silk-reeling industry viewed, diffused, adapted, and in some cases, rejected this machinery. And the changes that did occur in the Meiji years were vastly facilitated by changes of a similar magnitude, though of a different nature, in the preceding centuries.

Indeed, no understanding of the growth of silk reeling in the

Meiji era is possible without a consideration of the

14 15 development of the industry prior to the Restoration.

Tokugawa Policy and the Development of Silk Reeling

Silk reeling in Japan can be traced back to the Heian period, and thus was not new to the Tokugawa era. But prolonged peace was new, and for the first time in centuries the Japanese peasant could— indeed, had to— go about his agricultural tasks free of the threat of major disruption.

Aside from this, however, the structure of the Tokugawa political and economic system as originally conceived was not at all favorable for the growth of the silk-reeling industry. The ideological underpinnings of the regime included a stress on austerity and frugality which hardly encouraged the production of luxury goods like silk; and the enforced political isolation of the han from each other resulted in a stress on (or an attempt at) local self-sufficiency which did little to foster the kind of inter-han trade that might have allowed industry to grow on a significant scale. And in any case, through much of the

Tokugawa period the government saw little of merit in the silk-reeling industry. When it was done, after all, silk reeling was invariably the work of peasants, and according to the logic that underwrote the Tokugawa system, this was not one of their proper functions in life. Peasants were supposed to till the soil and, except as necessary to supply life's necessities, were not to engage in frivolous (and 16 potentially lucrative) pursuits like silk reeling. Hence the frequent remonstrances from the government to the peasants to the effect that they were to use paddy land only for rice, not for crops such as,mulberry, tobacco and indigo, and that they were not to occupy themselves with anything that might reduce the time available for what the government considered essential agricultural duties. These admonitions to the peasantry were paralleled by, and often part of, the sumptuary edicts which the Tokugawa Bakufu issued with monotonous regularity throughout the period. Directed against what the government considered "extravagant" living, the edicts became more detailed, complex and comprehensive as time went by, and silk, as a luxury item, was naturally one of the objects of official wrath.

Most important for the silk-reeling industry, at first, was the fact that such demand as did exist was almost completely from the Nishijin weavers in Kyoto, and they relied exclusively on Chinese raw silk. Imports from China probably began before the establishment of the Tokugawa regime, and the new government did nothing to discourage them. In effect it assumed a monopoly over the imports by giving merchants in Kyoto, Nagasaki and Sakai exclusive rights to handle Chinese thread. This put the importation on an organized footing and it expanded rapidly for the first half of the seventeenth century, reaching a peak of some

264,000 pounds annually during the 1660's. The effect here 17 was to stifle, for a time, the growth of the domestic silk reeling industry. Writing in 1789, the Confucian scholar

Amenomori Hoshu said that thread imports from China had made it impossible for the reeling industry to grow in Japan, since even if people had had the time and the right to produce 2 thread they would have found no market for it.

Amenomori's attempt to lay the silk industry's woes at the feet of foreign competition was very probably wide of the mark, and insofar as he suggested that the silk-reeling industry was underdeveloped he was, by the time he wrote, very wrong. The fact is that the industry had grown considerably: production of raw silk doubled in the 1600's and quadrupled in the following century.^ Scarcely a decade after Amenomori made his observations, raw silk produced in Japan was of sufficient quantity— and more significantly, of sufficient quality— to drive Chinese 4 imports out of the Japanese market altogether. That the silk industry grew as it did in spite of the social, economic and legal constraints working against it was no small feat, and requires some explanation.

One reason for growth was, ironically, the thriving market for raw silk from China. As noted above, demand for the commodity rose markedly in the seventeenth century, to the point where silk thread and cloth accounted for over half of all goods imported through Nagasaki.^ All of this, of course, had to be paid for, and it did not take long for the 18

increasingly penurious Edo government to react to the

enormous outflow of specie occasioned by the demand for

things which from the start it had reckoned not at all

essential for most of its citizenry. As a result, in 1685

the Bakufu imposed severe restrictions on imported silk

products, limiting imports to only a third of the amount

previously brought in; additional restrictions were, in

effect, laid down in 1712, when the government set limits on

the outflow of currency.^ This drastic reduction in

supply, though mitigated somewhat by smuggling, had the

effect, not necessarily intended by the Bakufu, of breathing new life into the domestic silk industry, which as we shall

see had begun to develop for other reasons.

It took some time thereafter for the Bakufu to accept

the necessity of encouraging silk reeling at home. In 1712

the government offered a feeble response to Nishijin weavers, who complained that they were increasingly being forced to

close for lack of raw material, by exhorting them to use 7 domestic thread along with the imported stuff. The problem was not as simple as the Bakufu chose to see it;

clearly something more was needed, as the Nishijin weavers

did not hesitate to insist. It was not just a matter of

substituting domestic for foreign raw material, because the weavers had been doing this since import restrictions were

first mandated; in fact, more domestic thread was being

shipped to Kyoto than even in the peak period of imports from 19

Q China. Rather, both Nishijin and regional weaving centers had grown to such a degree in the seventeenth century that there was simply not enough thread to go around.

As a result, in an ephocal degree of 1713 that marked a fundamental shift in policy, the Bakufu ordered that all aspects of the silk industry be fostered in areas throughout the country suitable for such production. Furthermore, the government enjoined silk merchants to provide instruction where necessary for those people— bush} as well as peasants— who were as yet unfamiliar with the techniques 9 involved. That the government should not only encourage an industry which it had heretofore looked askance upon, but direct that members of its own ruling class take part in it as well, was an about-face of major proportions; and it manifestly contradicted the government's austerity policy, which continued in force despite this new benign attitude toward the silk industry.

Yet if the government's policies were contradictory, they were nevertheless politically expedient. To rescind or discontinue the sumptuary edicts would have been to run counter to some of the ideological foundations of the regime; but on the other hand, the edicts were essentially unenforceable, and the very frequency with which they had to be issued testified eloquently to their almost complete failure— a failure of which the Bakufu cannot have been completely unaware. Moreover, the weavers' complaints 20

coincided with a time of economic crisis for the central government, brought about by spending deficits, inflation and currency debasement. Under the circumstances, it would have been foolish for the government to stifle the growth of any industry, especially one which, as the Bakufu noted in

its directive of 1713, was so potentially profitable for all concerned. Finally, the official sanction of bushi partici­ pation in the industry reflected the fact that the warrior class as a whole had least benefited from the general economic growth of the preceeding century, and was functioning under increasingly adverse financial conditions.

To allow the samurai to sully their hands in the pursuit of economic gain was undoubtedly far more tolerable to the government than to risk losing their support, upon which the very survival of the system depended.

Despite the significance of the central government's change in policy with regard to silk production, there was no direct support for the industry from Edo; the Bakufu seems to have regarded it as a necessary evil— no more, no less. This was not the case with the han governments, however. The daimyü and their administrators were, for the most part, considerably less encumbered by restrictive ideological baggage than the central government; they were rather more inclined to encourage their vassals to engage in such prosaic pursuits as earning a living; and they were much more predisposed to encourage industry on the part of the 21 peasantry. The daimyô had, of course, to observe the

regulations set down by the Shogun's government, at least on

the surface, but local conditions tended to vary so much that most of them operated more or less independently with regard

to the administration of their domains, and only the most

egregious breaches of Bakufu precepts provoked intervention

from Edo. Consequently, han governments were able to move with much more alacrity in economic matters and were far ahead of the central government in appreciating the utility of the silk industry.

Indeed, there was good reason for this to be so. The

Bakufu's calculated attempts to keep the han in perpetually dire financial straits was, in time, outstandingly

successful; by about 1700, virtually all han were chronically

in the red.^^ Expenses associated with the alternate attendance in Edo which the central government required, and

in most cases enforced, escalated as time went by; they also aggravated the flow of specie out of the han, making a mockery of the principle that each han be self-sufficient.

As costs generated by alternate attendance and other aspects

of the Baku-han system went up, many bushi, who in any case

were living in less and less austere fashion, found that

relying on their rice stipends as the sole source of their

income was no longer sufficient. The han governments thus

encouraged industries like silk reeling as sources both of

internal revenue (either directly, if public land was used 22 for the purpose, or indirectly via taxes) and of promising export items to other fiefs. Raw silk was especially attractive in the latter regard since it was light and easy 12 to transport, and prices were high relative to bulk.

For some of the han, encouraging aspects of silk production was at first a simple matter: they had substantial acreage unsuitable for paddy cultivation and, lest it lie fallow, distributed mulberry seedlings and ordered that they be planted there. Mulberry was the essential raw material for raising silkworms, and it had the advantages of being extremely hardy and easily tended by the young, the old and the weak— precisely those elements among the peasantry that could not perform the usual agricultural tasks. This kind of han activity began very early; the first recorded instance is in Tosa han in 1625, and this was followed by, among others, Yonezawa in 1655, Sendai in 1686,

Higo in 1756, Wakayama in 1817, and Matsumoto in the 13 1830's. In 1824, the Suwa han government went to unprecedented lengths in this regard when it announced that it would henceforth distribute seedlings free each year to anyone willing to grow them, that those desiring seedlings could apply directly to the appropriate han office rather than, as usual, through village officials, and that in the event of illness one could send another as proxy.

Of more importance to the development of the silk-reeling industry was another han activity: han 23 officials arranged for specialists from other regions to teach established or new techniques to residents— including members of the warrior class— of their own domains. Sendai han took the lead here, hiring an instructor from Kyoto in the 1630's to teach weaving and to help local sericultur- alists improve their methods. In 1700, Tsugaru han brought in from Kyoto two silkworm specialists, three weavers and six reeling experts to transmit their techniques to people in the area. Similar activities took place in Higo (1760), Yonezawa

(c. 1780), Akita (1825) and elsewhere.This inter-han hiring was apparently widespread and, considering the obvious expense involved, reflects a determination (not always successful) on the part of the han to see the silk industry flourish. There were, as noted above, sound economic reasons; for the han were just as troubled as the Bakufu by the economic problems of the warrior class, and they too saw in the silk industry a way to alleviate them. Thus, for example, when Yonezawa authorities announced their donation of mulberry seedlings, they stressed that the plants were to be given to anyone, regardless of status (shimin o towazu) ; and in 1793, the daimyo there set up a complete operation, from mulberry cultivation to silk weaving, within the grounds of his castle, and ceremoniously harvested mulberry leaves himself— an attempt, no doubt, to prove to the more obdurate samurai that labor of this variety was not 17 demeaning. 24

Quite apart from these official measures aimed at stimulating the development of the processes involved in silk production, the very fact that the Tokugawa Bakufu brought peace and unity to the nation meant that industries like silk reeling finally enjoyed a relatively stable economic environment, without which growth would have been limited regardless of what steps the government took to assist them.

In a sense, this stability was the government's most valuable contribution. A national market had begun to develop prior to the ascendancy of the Tokugawa family as currency came to be more generally used and as transportation networks improved and, whatever its political and ideological inclinations, the government did nothing much to impede this process, since it ultimately meant more revenue for its treasury.

Official theory and official practice thus frequently diverged, and this was especially apparent in the rise of towns and cities. Though anomalies to the economic world of orthodox Tokugawa thought, these urban centers grew rapidly in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, and, as the sumptuary edicts illustrate, they produced an increasingly affluent class of consumers with an eye for, among other 18 things, silk. This, along with steady improvements in the overland roads, did much to facilitate the aforementioned growch of regional weaving centers, competition from which had occasioned the complaints of the Nishijin weaving 25 industry in 1712. By about 1700 at the latest, these weaving centers began to appear throughout the country; in a very short time, there were more than five in the KantS plain, and 19 similar numbers in northeastern Japan and elsewhere. By the 1780's the industry was thriving in sixteen different regions, each of which included a number of centers specializing in different kinds of cloth, very often the equal of what had previously been produced only in Kyoto, and 20 at lower prices.

The rise of these weaving centers accelerated (and was itself stimulated by) the growth in numbers of markets specializing in one or more silk-related products. Figures for the country as a whole are not available for this, but a consideration of what happened in present-day Gunma should afford some idea of the extent of increase. By the time of the Restoration, there were thirty markets in the region, most of them open for business at least twice a month. Gunma is probably exceptional in that eight of the markets were already in operation before the beginning of the Edo period, one dating back to 1293 and another apparently open intermittently since the twelfth century. But growth was most outstanding from 1600 on; twelve opened in the seventeenth century, three in the eighteenth and seven in the nineteenth. Most of the markets handled several silk-related products; twenty-five of them handled raw silk, eighteen sold cocoons and twelve sold cloth. These figures certainly 26 indicate a thriving silk textile industry (eight of the twelve markets offering cloth opened in the seventeenth century)/ but for our purposes it is more important to take note of the fact that almost all of them sold raw silk and 21 over half sold cocoons. This reflects a degree of specialization and commercialization heretofore unseen and, as will be noted below, had important implications for the silk-reeling industry.

Although Gunma was ahead of other areas in both the speed and the extent of development, the pattern was essentially the same elsewhere. For the industry as a whole, the Genroku era (1688-1704) appears to have been a turning point. Historians frequently stress the artistic achievements of this age, and they were indeed impressive; but it was also a time of material prosperity, and this was not entirely limited to Japan's urban society. With prosperity came an increase in demand for luxury items like silk, and the brief Genroku era is important for the silk-reeling industry because it was during this time that demand for silk rose to sufficient heights— and did not thereafter decline for several decades— to sustain long-term growth. The effects of this new demand, together with the restrictions on Chinese thread and the edict of 1713, were certainly substantial, though they tended to vary from region to region. In Gunma, as we have seen, much growth had already occured and all stages of silk production were well 27

established, so that the new demand reinforced this trend and

provided a favorable atmosphere for technological change. In

other areas, including present-day Nagano, it seems to have been a major element in allowing the industry to take root 22 once and for all, and then to grow.

Rural Society and the Development of Silk Reeling

All of the aforementioned factors are important to

understand why Japan's silk-reeling industry expanded as it did during the Tokugawa years, but they offer few clues as to

just how expansion came about. The activities of the Bakufu and han governments were necessarily limited, and even the

imposition of import restrictions was basically a negative measure, not an attempt to help the industry. Much land was

indeed reclaimed, but it needed people to work it. True, some members of the warrior class were set to the task, but there is no evidence to indicate that they were involved here

in significantly large numbers. Similarly, the urban nouveau

riche of Tokugawa society may have developed a taste for

silk, but he did not, by and large, make the stuff himself.

To understand how production increased, we need to consider

the producers. They were, after all, the people responsible

for an increase in output which was all the more remarkable

in view of the fact that there was no genuine mechanical

innovation to speak of throughout the era. In considering 28 what producers did, we will pay particular attention to the present-day prefectures of Gunma and Nagano, for two reasons: first, because they were by far the most important silk-reeling regions in the subsequent Meiji period; and second, because their patterns of growth tended to differ.

Scholars have commented before on the apparent eagerness of the Tokugawa peasant to increase his technical 23 knowledge and thereby increase his output and income.

This was certainly true of those engaged in various aspects of silk production, particularly as time went by and it became obvious that there was money, and a good deal of it, to be made in this area. One of the indexes of this thirst for knowledge is the degree to which the peasantry undertook to read technical literature, and there is ample evidence that they did this in no small measure. In many cases, gaining access to written material was easy because some han governments published technical tracts and distributed them free. In 1702, Tsugaru han had a local specialist write a manual on silkworm raising, which it subsequently printed and sent out to villages in the area; Higo did likewise in 1763, as did Yonezawa in 1806. In fact, Tsugaru's manual was the first book published on silk production in Japan, and included detailed instructions on silkworm raising, cocoon drying and thread reeling. It was also a dividend of sorts for the han, since it was written by one of the samurai who had been put to work in the silk industry. Most of the 29

authors were, however, of agricultural background, though one

was a doctor. All the books appear to have been eminently

practical in bent, and they improved over time in terms of

quality and detail; at least one author revised and enlarged his original work after several more years of experience, and

another profusely illustrated his book to make certain that

farmers could understand it. That these books were read

there can be no doubt. Over thirty were published between

1702 and 1865, and they were published in quantity; three

thousand copies were printed of at least one work, one

thousand of another; by any standard, these were very

respectable figures indeed. Their quality is attested to by

the fact that one work, originally published in 1803, was

translated into French and published in France in 1848— this

at a time when seclusion was still very much official

policy. More of these books were translated into French in

1869 and included in a general work on silk production in

Japan; this in turn was almost immediately put out in an 24 Italian version.

The success of this kind of technical literature shows

that peasants were willing to make the effort to improve what

they were doing. Just why they took this attitude is not

completely clear, though undoubtedly the obvious size of the

market for silk products as of the early eighteenth century

was a factor. In any case, the attitude was crucial, because

a desire for improvement is a necessary prelude to 30

innovation. And it paid off rather quickly. One of the

factors that had kept the silk-reeling industry in check for

centuries had been a limited supply of raw materials;

silkworms could only be raised in the spring. This meant

that thread could only be reeled after these worms had woven

their cocoons, thus effectively limiting the period during

which thread could be produced. A breakthrough came here in

about 1750, when a rapidly-maturing summer strain was

developed in Nagano. Either by diffusion of this strain or by independent development, similar varieties began to be

raised elsewhere shortly thereafter; producers in Gunma, for 25 example, were raising worms in summer by the 1790's.

As frequently happens when something new is

introduced, this new strain of silkworm demanded in its wake additional innovations and prompted the development of others. Thus, new mulberry strains had to be created, and

they were. Techniques had to be, and were, devised to

regulate the silkworm's gestation period lest it interrupt

the agricultural routine. Silkworm raisers experimented with

interbreeding of worm strains and created better varieties, which led in turn to better thread. By the middle of the

nineteenth century, producers had developed worms that could be bred in autumn, thus further extending the reeling period. Finally, different methods of raising worms were

tested, and much more sophisticated temperature control

techniques began to be developed. 31

Many of these advances in silkworm cultivation came to producers' attention through the manuals that were published. The growth of markets was also important, because

these places undoubtedly provided opportunities for producers

to exchange information and for buyers from other areas to

learn of, or acquaint the producers with, different

techniques. We should not assume that acceptance of new

silkworm strains or of new technology was always immediate or

even rapid, because in many cases and in many areas it was

not. Change, after all, almost always entailed risk. But acceptance often did come, especially once people divined the

utility of doing so.

Improvements in silkworm production were not the only achievements made; silk-reeling techniques also underwent

revision, though change here was not of the same magnitude or historical significance until the very end of the era.

Through the first half of the Tokugawa period, reeling

methods varied only slightly from region to region, and in

all cases reeling was a crude, laborious process in which all

work was done by hand. The oldest method, doguri, involved

the use of a cylindrical piece of wood suspended horizontally by two sticks. The cylinder was pierced at both ends by

narrow pieces of bamboo, which were inserted into slits in

the sticks; this enabled the reeler to revolve the cylinder.

The reeler simply drew cocoon strands from a kettle, pressed

them together (usually by drawing them through a looped 32 strand of hair) and wound them onto the cylinder. Doguri was most common in northeastern Japan; in the Kanto and Kansai areas, the process was slightly more sophisticated. In the

tebiki method most common in those areas, a four-cornered wood frame was used instead of a cylinder, and the frame was attached to supporting posts by means of an axle. The tebiki method made it easier to remove water from the thread and to control the speed of revolution. Both doguri and tebiki were developed prior to the Tokugawa era and had remained 27 basically unaltered since the late fifteenth century.

But change did come, and in fact it almost coincided with the advances in silkworm raising noted above, first in the northeast reeling regions in the 1750's, then in Gunma at the end of the eighteenth century.

In neither area was the essentially manual nature of the reeling process modified, and in this sense the advance was incremental. But it would be rash to underestimate the significance of this new method, known as zaguri, because it was in its own right, and especially when compared with the older methods, rather sophisticated. Prior to the

introduction of zaguri reeling, the reeler revolved the thread frame either by turning a handle affixed to its axle

(in the tebiki process) or by striking the cylinder with the palm of the hand (in the doguri process). Understandably, the rotation of the frame was not at all uniform; nor was the thread which resulted. Gunma's zaguri method, which 33

ultimately dominated, remedied this problem by using three

axles connected by cogwheels; the reeler turned a handle

attached to the large axle at the bottom of the apparatus,

and in so doing set the intermediate and thread-frame axles

rotating. Since the reeler did not directly turn the

thread-frame axle, its rotation was much more uniform; and

the use of cogwheels made possible a considerably faster

rotation of the thread frame, but with much less effort.

More improvements were added in the nineteenth century, most

notably with the addition of a device to improve cocoon

strand cohesion and with an adjustment which allowed the

reeler to turn the handle with the left hand, thereby freeing

the right hand for all-important task of handling the cocoons 28 and thread.

This new method spread quickly through parts of Gunma, and almost as rapidly to some other areas. How regions outside Gunma acquired the new method is worth considering.

Although, as we have seen, some han governments took steps to bring new methods into their areas, the zaguri process did

not, by and large, appear quickly in these places. Instead,

the new method was adopted most quickly in what is now Nagano

prefecture, which was not at the time one of the major

production areas, and the prime movers behind the

introduction were producers themselves.

The accidents of geography decreed that northern and

southern Nagano should be largely isolated from each other; 34 mountains run diagonally across the area, and for the silk industry this meant that for a long time the two sections acquired new methods from different regions. But get them they did. With the expansion of markets, both sections had begun selling raw silk outside Nagano by the late eighteenth century, and producers had begun seeking ways to improve their business. Sales of raw silk from northern Nagano to

Kyoto and to Gunma's main weaving center, Kiryu, were flourishing by the early 1800's; thread from southern Nagano 29 went mainly to Kyoto, though some also to Gifu as well.

Understandably enough for an area where production had been relatively underdeveloped, producers tended to look to their markets for advice.

The earliest instance of this goes as far back as the

Genroku period, when a resident of lida in southern Nagano hired eight women from Gifu to help establish a reeling operation.This was unusally early; there is no evidence for similar activity for several decades thereafter. But it picked up again by the middle of the next century, and was done with increasing frequencey, especially in the Ueda region of the north. Twelve women were brought here from

Gifu to teach improved reeling methods in 1760.^^ Ueda was in a fortunate position since local merchants had long been active in the export of cocoons to other areas and thus had ample opportunity to find out about new developments. They began to introduce the zaguri process almost immediately 35 after it was devised; in 1803, merchants and officials in an

Ueda village decided to establish zaguri reeling on a large scale, and for this purpose hired experts from Maebashi in

Gunma to help them. The instructors brought zaguri apparatus with them, and the venture proved to be very successful.

Village residents also traveled around introducing the new 32 method. Others took similar action. One silk reeler in nearby Nakano (now part of the city of Nagano) sent his wife to Maebashi to study the zaguri process, thereby prompting 33 its use in his area.

That this adoption of zaguri reeling was limited to northern Nagano can be explained, in part by the fact that the south sold its raw silk mostly to— or through— Gifu, and looked there for technical advice. Though not on a scale to match what was happening in the north (this would come later), silk reeling expanded considerably in southern

Nagano, and producers there commonly hired women from Gifu as a way to acquire new production methods. There is at least one instance of the use of zaguri reeling in southern Nagano as early as 1849, but this was an exception; there was no significant use of the method in the area until after the 34 ports were opened to foreign trade.

It is clear, then, that technological changes did occur, and that producers were willing to adopt them and to share them with others. That this was so reflects another important aspect of the silk industry's development: an 36 increasing tendency for the different processes in silk production— silkworm cultivation, thread reeling and cloth weaving— to become functionally separate. Indeed, the phenomena are reciprocal. A separation of the processes vastly facilitates improvement and innovation since the producer can concentrate his efforts on one of them. At the same time, a technological advance in one process may make it more feasible and rational for the producer to specialize in that area. In Japan's silk industry, specialization seems to have begun to develop first, although it cannot be seen in any significant degree until producers implemented at least some of the aforementioned technological changes. The degree of specialization also varied widely, not only from place to place but also over time. It seems to have first developed in Gunma, where it was a reasonably common pattern by the 35 middle of the eighteenth century. The flourishing weaving center of Kiryu testifies to the fact that weaving at least very early became separate, and the same can probably be said for areas surrounding other weaving centers.

Maebashi's silk market opened in 1617, and by 1700 was doing a volume of business that could only have been possible if large quantities of thread had been produced for sale rather than for home use. The volume also reflects the fact that thread was moving onto the market from other areas, including

Nagano. 37

The next step was to separate thread reeling and silkworm raising. Again, the rise of markets for silk products indicates that this process began quite early.

Silkworm producers in the Tohoku and KantS (including Gunma) areas began selling their wares very early in the Tokugawa period, and by the 1660's commercial silkworm raising had begun in Nagano's Ueda. The business was brisk enough in the eighteenth century to demand some sort of standardized retail procedures; these were established at a conference of 37 silkworm dealers in HachiSji in 1792. The very fact that silkworms were being sold so extensively indicates that many raw silk producers had eliminated this stage of the process from their activities.

In fact, thread reeling as an independent process goes back at least as far as the mid-1700's in Gunma; and Nagano, whatever its technological backwardness, was not far 38 behind. As time went on, Nagano's wealthy farmers and local merchants who purchased raw silk found it more and more profitable to buy cocoons and hire women to do the reeling for them. In Suwa, the han government in 1794 officially forbade hiring women to work outside the home— a clear indication that it was being done.^^ Similar prohibitions were issued elsewhere, but merchants and wealthy farmers soon got around these simply by giving the reeling apparatus to women and having them reel the thread on contract in their own homes. This the government tolerated (and taxed) in both 38

Nagano and Gunma, and it expanded impressively; in Nagano's

Matsushiro han, an area where commercial silk reeling began rather late, 125 merchants contracted with women to reel thread in 1831; eleven of them had over forty women working for them.^^ A report submitted to Suwa officials in 1813 stated that about 800 women were reeling thread on contract in that area, and the figure almost certainly went up thereafter.The pattern was similar in Gunma. The force of the ban on collective reeling weakened over time, and with this the procedure was revived— sometimes on a scale the equal of many operations in the Meiji period.

Impressive though these developments are, they certainly amounted to no transformation of the silk-reeling industry, and they need to be viewed with caution. It is clear that a functional separation of silkworm raising and thread reeling did occur, and that this was common in both

Nagano and Gunma in the early nineteenth century. But silk reeling remained a subsidiary occupation in almost all cases, and was nothing more than a way for merchants and farmers alike to make more money during slack periods in the agricultural cycle. Thus it should not be assumed that merchants dealt exclusively in silk, or that women reeled silk throughout the year. They did not. In very few cases does silk reeling appear to have been an exclusive, or even a primary, occupation; even in instances where rural people did rely on silk reeling as their sole source of income, they did 39

42 not do so for an extended period of time. In Suwa, for example, where silk reeling became more and more common after

1800, cotton was still the major commodity produced by farm households to supplement their income, and remained so until foreign trade began; that raw silk production went up here and that more people were reeling silk reflected the fact that, as demand for the product went up, it became an increasingly profitable side job in addition to— not instead 43 of— cotton processing. And although the number of women reeling thread under contract increased substantially in both

Nagano and Gunma, the average annual output per worker remained very low, and many women worked only for very short periods.This is to be expected as long as silk reeling continued to be a seasonal occupation for most; but the result was that the industry still lacked an organized structure where skills could be learned and improved by a fixed group of workers over a relatively long period of time.

In addition, the economic climate which had fostered the growth of silk reeling began to deteriorate. Since

Japan's economy was a closed one, the expansion of demand which had been so important for the developments described here had its limits, and for a number of reasons demand began to go down in the Tempo era (1830-1844). Prolonged inflation had begun by this point to erode the purchasing power of those who might ordinarily have purchased silk, and the situation was aggravated by disastrous harvests and food 40 shortages in 1833 and 1836. Sumptuary edicts (the government's customary reaction to economic crises) issued in the early 1840's were unusually harsh and comprehensive; they were received with the usual flouting in some quarters, but, times being what they were, the laws seem for once to have 45 had more bite than their predecessors. Sakuma ZSzan correctly pointed out that restricting silk consumption would only add to the ranks of the unemployed or underemployed, but 46 his observation fell on deaf ears. And in any case, the malaise affecting the economy was deeper than either he or the Bakufu realized.

For the Nishijin weaving industry, all of this meant the beginning of a decline from which it was never to recover fully; regional weaving centers suffered a similar fate, though Kiryu managed to weather the economic storm more successfully than others.The effect on the reeling industry was no less severe, as the market value for raw silk indicated. While prices for most other commodities were soaring in the 1830's, raw silk prices, after having risen steadily for decades, remained fixed or actually fell during the same period. In 1840, the price of raw silk shot up to its highest level yet; but two years later, when the government issued its most drastic sumptuary edict to date, the price plunged by more than half. The market recovered somewhat thereafter, but prices fluctuated, often wildly, from year to year, and the 1840 price was not again equaled 41

48 until trade began with the West in 1859.

Clearly the steady increase in demand for, and the

price of, raw silk that had sustained the industry's

development for so long had come to an end; so too, it seems, had the kind of expansion that had heretofore been the common

pattern in silk reeling. The depression in the silk market

did not have the same effects everywhere, to be sure; since

Kiryu emerged relatively unscathed from the Tempo years, its

suppliers in Gunma and Nagano did likewise— but only in a 49 relative sense, for there was little if any growth. It has been suggested that the efforts of the Ueda han government in Nagano to set up an inspection system for raw

silk during the Temps era reflect a successful determination on its part to encourage more silk reeling.But this is open to doubt on a number of points; first, there is nothing to indicate that such results were actually achieved since many producers simply ignored the system; second,

"inspection" involved the payment of a fee, and it is difficult not to see here the principal motivation on the part of the han, beleaguered as its coffers were; and

finally, the very fact that the inspection system was set up at this point would seem to indicate a decline in quality, not an increase in quantity.

The Suwa region, though dependent on markets in Kyoto and Gifu, appears not to have been severely affected by the turn of events after 1830. Although one silk merchant 42 contracted with only a third as many women in 1840 as he had

in 1833, another, probably more typical, merchant had fully thirty-eight women reeling for him in the spring and sixty-seven in the summer of 1840.^^ But Suwa had not been a major production area prior to the Tempo era, and if the

industry expanded here, it did so only relative to its former minimal position in the area's economy. And most

importantly, there was throughout this period and after almost no attempt in the Suwa region to improve or alter production methods. The one recorded instance of conversion to zaguri reeling apparently met with no enthusiasm since no one else bothered to take it up despite its obvious 52 advantages. Given the unstable market for raw silk, this was not a time to experiment; and no one did.

Gross output figures for raw silk in the TempS period and the following years do not exist and it is impossible to know precisely how they changed. But in retrospect it is clear that the silk industry had reached an impasse, and that

it would require some sort of boost to lift it out of its slump. Presently it got one; in the summer of 1853, Matthew

Perry anchored his ships off Uraga, thereby setting in motion a series of events that were to have a profound effect on

Japan and on her silk industry. 43

Silk Reeling in the Bakumatsu Period

Ironically, the immediate effect of Perry's arrival and of the political crisis it engendered was to depress the 53 raw silk market still further. But on June 2, 1859, the port of Yokohama opened to foreign trade, and with this the situation changed dramatically. Japanese merchants at first had no idea what Westerners wanted, and so took to Yokohama anything that might conceivably be sold, including lacquer ware, soy sauce, miso and watermelon. They also took raw silk, and it was immediately apparent that this was the commodity most in demand. Raw silk production had declined drastically in Europe since the early 1850's because of a silkworm disease that had all but eliminated cocoon production in France and Italy, and this was forcing European silk weavers to look elsewhere— including Japan— for raw materials. In addition, seclusion had in effect kept the price for Japanse raw silk so artificially low that it would take some time for it to reach international levels; and differences in parity between Japanese and Western exchange rates not only encouraged the outflow of gold but helped keep 54 the price of raw silk relatively low.

But only relatively. The intricacies of foreign exchange would have made little sense to the silk merchants and producers of Nagano and Gunma (or of any other region, for that matter) even had they known about them. What they saw was a tremendous rise in the price of thread. On the 44

Maebashi market, the price jumped fifty percent in less than a year, reflecting a similar percentage increase in 55 Yokohama. More importantly, the price on the Yokohama market was considerably higher, often by half again as much, than could be obtained locally. Word of this traveled slowly in Japan, but people in Gunma and Nagano, who had the greatest potential stake in the silk export market, found out almost immediately. The Ueda han government actually began planning its own export procedures prior to the official beginning of trade,and by mid-summer silk merchants from 57 Suwa were in Yokahama hawking their wares. In less than a year, raw silk accounted for half the value of all exports, and total exports of the commodity in 1860 were double that 58 of the year before.

The reaction of the authorities in Edo to all of this was characteristically hapless. They apparently had no idea how much of any commodity was being exported until early in

1860, when officials in Yokohama chanced upon large stockpiles of raw silk in a Dutch warehouse there. Horrified by what it feared would drain the country of all its silk, the Bakufu immediately upbraided Japanese merchants for their greed and selfishness, and ordered that "for the time being" all raw silk (along with grain, rapeseed oil, wax and dry goods) was to be exported from Yokohama only after first being inspected and certified by officially designated wholesalers in Edo. At the same time, the government set a 45 lirait of 660 pounds per day on silk thread exports.

This restriction on exports raade a certain amount of sense (and was certainly consistent with past Bakufu behavior) insofar as it was meant to control the inflation which, in the government's view, was in large part due to the outflow of goods like silk from the country. But the measures the government took defied all economic reality, and were as often as not ignored. The volume of silk thread exports in 1860 was four times the amount mandated by the

Bakufu; most of it was shipped directly to Yokohama.The certification system was a fiasco from the start, and undoubtedly yielded the Bakufu more pain than profit. The

Edo wholesalers themselves were strongly resented by local officials and merchants alike. They extracted fees (on the

Bakufu's orders), and what was seen as wholesaler rapacity did not appear unrelated to the inflation then afflicting the economy; in 1862, the wholesalers were closed for long periods at a time, thereby virtually ensuring that the system would be ignored.They reported to the Bakufu in 1863 that some regional thread merchants duly deposited their wares at one of their offices, then spirited the thread off to Yokohama in the middle of the night.Such infractions of the rules were not without some official support, at least on the local level; in 1863, for example, Gunma's Numata han asked the Bakufu for permission for its raw silk merchants to bypass Edo altogether. 46

The central government finally bowed to the inevitable

in November 1365, by abolishing the certification system. In

its place, the Bakufu ordered that all thread, including that bound for the domestic market, be inspected in the han of 64 origin prior to shipment. Fees for certification of thread for the export market were twice those assessed on thread intended for domestic use,^^ but the fact that both were taxed suggests that the government was mainly interested in collecting revenue. In any case, the new system appears to have been little more successful than its predecessor.

Needless to say, none of this did much to facilitate trade and, ineffectual as the government's measures were, they do seem to have played a part in actual decreases in raw silk exports in 1863 and 1865. But there were other problems as well. There was no precedent for the kind or volume of trade being carried out in Yokohama; if the government was inexperienced, so too was everyone else, and conflicts with foreign trading companies were chronic.Currency exchange facilities were woefully inadequate, and rapid fluctuations in the exchange rate for silver resulted in substantial losses for some silk dealers. And the xenophobic sentiment which reached a peak in the early 1860's created a climate of fear, culminating in a short-lived Bakufu 67 directive to stop trade altogether. Under these circumstances, it is impressive that trade went on as extensively as it did. 47

In contrast to all of this, producers in the countryside methodically set about responding to the demands of the booming market for silk thread. The chaos in Edo and

Yokohama meant almost nothing to them; even the volatile exchange market had little direct effect, since very few producers ever did business in Yokohama themselves, dealing instead through regional merchant shippers.What mattered to them was the fact that prices on the whole were going up— and going up substantially— for the first time in many years, and they responded accordingly. Development in

Maebashi, the heart of Gunma's reeling industry, was particularly striking, and raw silk from this area was prized above all other kinds. So much raw silk came from Maebashi that Western merchants took to calling all thread similarly bundled "Maebashi thread", and to classifying thread as

"Maebashi Grade I", "Maebashi Grade II", etc. Many samurai families in the area turned to silk reeling now since it was so obviously profitable, and their product was reputedly of very high quality.The han government received substantial income from taxes on raw silk, and in 1867, at a time when the central government and other han were facing severe financial problems, the Maebushi daimyS was able to use revenue from the silk trade to build himself a new castle.A report submitted to the Bakufu by the Edo wholesalers in 1863 stated that production of raw silk throughout the country had increased fifty percent in 1862 48 and seventy percent in 1863, and noted that "Jôshû (Gunma) alone produced an exceptionally large portion of this."^^

Undoubtedly some of the increase in silk exports was due not to expanded production at all, but rather to the diversion of some raw silk from the domestic market, and in fact Maebashi han instituted half-hearted measures to control 72 this. But Kiryu, Gunma's main weaving center, does not 73 seem to have been as adversely affected as other places.

In any case, the export of thread originally intended for use in Japan does not satisfactorily account for the extent of export growth, and the explanation clearly lies elsewhere.

Increases in raw silk exports in the 1860's, in Japan in general and in Gunma in particular, were met largely by the expansion of production. Gunma, after all, had already had a half century's experience with zaguri reeling, and thereby was able to produce better thread (at least in the eyes of

Western purchasers) than anywhere else in Japan. Producers in Gunma simply intensified their use of zaguri, so that soon virtually all silk thread from Gunma was made by this process. Local governments in Gunma and elsewhere either relaxed or rescinded their longstanding bans on collective reeling, a practice heretofore deemed an egregious affront to orthodox notions of how peasants ought to conduct themselves. Collective reeling was far more efficient than the contract system, and wealthy producers returned to this in force.The functional separation of production 49

processes which had already proceeded further in Gunma than

in other areas became even more marked, and with this came 75 increases in all stages of production. And in Maebashi,

local officials actively encouraged the industry's growth by

winking at violations of the remaining legal restrictions

thereon and by putting an exceptionally large percentage of

its samurai population to work in the industry.

Gunma was not alone here, and nowhere is this more

apparent than in the activities of producers in southern

Nagano. Increases in production were common in all parts of

Nagano during the 1860's, and particularly in Suwa. The

beginning of foreign trade had, in fact, all but forced the

Suwa area to expand raw silk production since the influx of

cotton goods from the West eliminated the only other major

source of supplementary income for farmers in the area. The

booming market for raw silk not only provided them with an

alternative— and one to which they were fairly

accustomed— but prompted technological change as well. Suwa

merchants had almost immediately run into trouble with

Western buyers in Yokohama, who complained about their

coarse, inferior thread, and it was obvious that something had to be done to improve quality as well as to increase

ouput of raw silk. The merchants also found that thread

produced by the zaguri process sold for half again as much as

theirs did, so it was equally obvious what steps they should 77 take. As a result, zaguri equipment was brought to 50

Hirano in Suwa early in 1860 by wealthy local farmers, one of

whom hired a Gunma woman to instruct people in the use of the 78 apparatus. Others went to Gunma, examined zaguri operations, purchased some of the equipment, and then went home and instructed their own workers. Within a short time,

zaguri reeling equipment was being constructed by local artisans, and in less than two years the process almost 79 completely replaced tebiki reeling.

The pace of change here is dizzying, and affords us some measure of the profound impact, even at the village level, of Japan's first sustained encounter with the West.

Yet as remarkable as the speed of change in Suwa was, even more striking are the lengths to which those who introduced zaguri reeling to the area went to see that the technique was diffused. There was no attempt to keep the method secret; the instructor from Gunma later recalled that "large crowds 80 of people came to see (the operation) every single day."

One Hirano producer, Masuzawa Kiyosuke, first built five zaguri frames for his own use in 1860 and then, seeing that he was able to sell his thread at a much higher price than before, built 120 more frames and distributed them to his neighbors. In 1866, he sent forty zaguri apparatus to producers in Gifu (Suwa's erstwhile source of technical help) and, when people there refused to abandon their old method, 81 sent them money as a guarantee against failure. 51

Masuzawa's case was certainly exceptional; if nothing else, few others had the wherewithal to do what he did. But it was this kind of activity, this willingness to change abruptly and to persuade others to do so, that was typical of people in the Suwa area and that resulted in an enormous increase in thread output in the early I860's. Precise data are not available since producers did not always report their production figures to the government, but it is clear that the growth of silk reeling was very high in Suwa through

1865, when the amount of raw silk produced may have been as much as ten times greater than average annual output prior to 82 1859. Almost all of this went to the export market; significantly, by 1866, forty percent was produced by one area, Hirano, which was later to become the pioneer area in mechanized reeling, and which was the home of Masuzawa and others who spearheaded the introduction of zaguri reeling.

This expansion and intensified use of the zaguri method was not the only result of the opening of trade with the West. The seemingly insatiable demand for Japanese raw silk produced an atmosphere which not only called for technological innovation in order to meet the demand, but made an attempt at innovation seem financially feasible to some. The first attempt to go beyond the limitations of the still comparatively simple zaguri process was carried out by a wealthy Gunma producer, Numaga Shigeichiro. Working with a local artisan, Numaga devised an operation in which four 52

zaguri frames, each capable of handling four lines of thread,

were connected and powered by a water wheel. For the first

time the reeler no longer had to turn the thread frame herself, and could use both hands to handle the thread and

cocoons. Numaga's operation continued until 1861, when it 83 was destroyed by a flood. About five years later, the

aforementioned Masuzawa Kiyosuke made a similar attempt.

Like Numaga, he connected his zaguri frames, but instead of water as the power source he utilized the gravitational force of a metal weight attached by rope to the main axle of the reeling frame. Masuzawa used this method for two years, but continual problems with it eventually forced him to return to 34 conventional zaguri reeling.

The failure of Numaga's operation can be attributed to the whims of nature (and to the fact that, in the aftermath of the flood, he could no longer use the water source on which he had relied); the failure of Masuzawa's, to the relatively poor quality of the thread which resulted. Still, the attempts were made, and this is significant. It is also

significant that no one else followed their lead. To be

sure, Numaga and Masuzawa were relatively wealthy and in a position to afford the cost— and the risk— of such ventures; but they were not unique in this regard, and that no one else

took similar steps reflects the fact that the growth of the

silk-reeling industry was not without its problems and

limitations. 53

Indeed, the export figures bear this out: although the average annual price for thread rose consistently between

1859 and 1867, production did not go up nearly as quickly as would be expected under the circumstances, and in fact shipments to the West actually declined in 1863, 1865 and

1867.^^ Part of this was due, no doubt, to the volatile political situation and to the government's attempt to regulate exports; but merchants appear to have been rather resourceful in overcoming such obstacles. The real problem is suggested by the pattern of growth in the Suwa area: here, production soared after the introductio of zaguri reeling but leveled off by the middle of the I860's.

Clearly, under existing production methods the possibility of expanding production was limited.

Producers seem to have perceived this almost from the start— or at least to have perceived the need to increase their production capacity somehow. In trying to solve the problem, they ultimately succeeded only in creating a new one. A modification of the original zaguri frame had been devised in Gunma in the 1850's, which made it possible for two lines of thread to be reeled at the same time, and by one worker. It was this method which was adopted by Gunma and

Nagano producers after trade began, since it allowed for an increase in production and also tended to produce the finer thread desired by Western merchants. But because each reeler now had to handle two lines of thread, exceptional care was 54

necessary to produce smooth thread of uniform thickness, and

in the rush to cash in on the export market, fewer and fewer 87 producers concerned themselves with this. As a result,

the quality of thread actually declined over time; and this

trend was exacerbated after the government allowed exports of

silkworm eggs in 1865, at which point the best strains began 88 to disappear from the domestic market. Some merchants

tried to hide the problem of quality by wrapping poor thread

with a better variety and demanding prices appropriate for

the latter; others loaded hanks of thread with sand, scrap 89 iron and the like to boost the weight. The central and han governments made some attempts at quality control,

particularly through the regional inspection centers set up

in 1866, but their main interests lay elsewhere and the

effort, such as it was, did not amount to much. Clearly,

producers lacked the means, the ability and the incentive to

alter their ways; so too did the government. Fundamental

changes in the silk industry were going to require, at the

very least, equally fundamental changes in government. The

latter were not long in coming.

Conclusion

In evaluating those factors that affected the

development of silk reeling during the Tokugawa period, we

can attribute very little to the activities of the Bakufu.

One reason for this is the aforementioned fact that the 55 central government did not generally exercise economic

jurisdiction within the han, which consequently were left to determine policy for themselves. More importantly, the

Bakufu was never able to reconcile the ideological demands of the edifice it had created with the expansion of the economy, especially at the rural level. This led to a policy of vacillation, of alternating promotion and restriction of the silk industry, which was hardly conducive to growth. Han activity was of considerably more significance, since at this level authorities provided institutional sanctions and support without which growth would probably have been much slower in some regions. What they did constituted important, though not necessarily constructive, precedents for the Meiji years.

But the most activist governments in this regard were not, by and large, in areas that ultimately became major producers of raw silk. In what is now Gunma, for example, the initiative appears to have been largely in private hands. In present-day Nagano, government efforts were negligible until very late. In addition, there were many

instances where han governments did act in accordance with the Bakufu's precepts. In so doing, they checked the

industry's growth, most notably by forbidding collective reeling, refusing to sanction silk reeling as an exclusive occupation, and the like. 56

Similarly, the participation of the warrior class in silk reeling and other aspects of silk production is historically significant, and certainly helps explain why so many of them sought to earn their living in this field during the Meiji period. But with the possible exception of bushi

in Maebashi and some other areas in Gunma, there is nothing to indicate that their contributions to the industry's growth were at all substantial. It is also important to remember that in the case of thread reeling, at least, it was the women who did the work. The wives and daughters of samurai may have reeled thread to supplement their family income, but this did nothing to prepare their husbands and fathers for the managerial tasks with which they were confronted later on.

The central government's behavior following the opening of trade with the West was, if anything, even less conducive than before to an orderly development of the silk-reeling industry. The Bakufu was never able to accept the new situation— one which was not only unprecedented (and therefore threatening), but which was also an affront to the

Tokugawa political and economic structure. Edo's response to these new circumstances was to fall back on traditional policy: it continued, insofar as it was possible within the strictures imposed by the treaty system, to stress national self-sufficiency, which meant that there was no question of actively promoting exports as long as domestic needs were met; and it attempted to reassert traditional economic 57 controls through the Edo wholesaler system, a fiasco that established the dangerous precedent of widespread non-compliance with government regulations on the part of merchants and producers. The Bakufu's irresolution throughout the immediate pre-Restoration period— now sanctioning trade, now trying to stop it— simply forced others to take matters into their own hands.

Nor were the han governments much better at this point. Maebashi officials seem to have perceived the advantages of fostering silk reeling as an export industry, but few others did. The local inspection centers set up in

1866 might conceivably have done much to solve quality problems and to encourage the industry's orderly development, but these had been tried well before 1859 to no great avail; it was folly to think they would succeed in the get-rich-quick atmosphere of the 1860's, particularly as long as the principal aim of the Bakufu and the han was— and was perceived to be— the extraction of fees for their depleted

treasuries. Under the circumstances, their response to the booming silk trade was understandable; they needed the money. But it also made any serious attempt at qualitative

improvement much more difficult; and the reaction of merchants and producers to official policies did not bode at all well for government attempts to guide the industry after the Restoration. 58

By contrast, we see in the activities of the producers themselves much that explains the expansion of silk reeling during the Tokugawa period, and much that provided the basis for the changes that were carried out after 1368. By the end of the Tokugawa era, there was a well-established market structure through which silkworms, raw silk and silk cloth moved smoothly; this structure was the work of merchants, often acting at odds with government officials, and of farmers who, as time went by, produced enough to make the markets feasible. The increase in output of raw silk that was achieved during the Tokugawa years did not simply reflect intensified production, though certainly that was a factor.

Technological changes, however limited, were made, and a significant proportion of producers did accept them. That this was so can be ascribed in part to the commercialization of raw silk and other silk products, and to the increasing tendency for the production processes to become functionally separate. A farmer producing raw silk for market obviously operated under a set of constraints and incentives very different from those of a farmer producing for home consumption. He had to respond to the demands of the market; he had to compete with others, or at least to become aware that they were producing the same commodity, and perhaps in a different— and better— way.

But this is not the entire explanation. The proliferation of technical manuals suggests that there was 59

among the farm population a receptivity to change for its own

sake. This kind of attitude was by no means typical of all

of rural Japanese society? there was, and would continue to

be, no lack of hidebound peasants. But enough of them were

inquisitive and willing to alter their ways. The development

and diffusion of the zaguri reeling process is particularly

instructive here because it reflects a spirit of empiricism,

of impatience with the past. And the reeling operations

devised by Numaga and Masuzawa suggest that, although the

impetus to mechanize was a product of the beginning of trade with the West, the concept of mechanization was not something that had to be wholly imported. Indeed, there is very little qualitative difference between Numaga's and Masuzawa's endeavors and some of the "mechanized" filatures that were established in the early Meiji years. All of this is

impressive because, although the Tokugawa regime brought peace and stability, peasant life was, to the end, rather precarious, and a good deal of pluck was necessary for people

in that situation to take the risks involved in trying something new— or simply something they had never done before.

But many of them did, and what is equally important in terms of later developments is that they were willing, often eager, to inform others of the new. Whatever competitive pressures the marketplace may have induced, it is clear in the spread of zaguri reeling, for example, that producers had no hesitation in communicating innovations to people in their 60 area and elsewhere. As we have seen in the cases of Ueda producers and Masuzawa Kiyosuke, producers not only went out of their way to acquire improved technology, they also tried to see that its adoption spread throughout their area as a whole. The importance of this is difficult to overestimate,

for it meant that knowledge was not considered the exclusive property of the acquirer, but rather something to be shared.

Nagano's case is expecially informative in this regard; we see in the development of silk reeling here a tradition of seeking and accepting innovations from outside, and a sense of responsibility for their subsequent diffusion. These are crucial precedents for the Meiji era.

Finally, we see in the development of collective reeling an orientation that would greatly facilitate, for better or for worse, the rise of factory-type operations in the Meiji period. Collective reeling appears with increasing frequency in the nineteenth century, and especially after

1859; its existence meant that many women were already 90 accustomed to the idea of working away from home, and were willing— for whatever reason--to spend long hours doing tedious and unpleasant work in the pursuit of financial gain. That most if not all of them did this out of necessity is true, but does not detract from the significance of what they did. It reflects among the peasantry a willingness to change one's pattern of life when circumstances so dictated, a willingness to accept new kinds of work. This attitude was 61 by no means inevitable, and it still does not obtain in many societies; but its existence in rural Japan helps explain, as much as any other factor, the development of silk reeling in

Japan both during and after the Tokugawa period. 62

Notes to Chapter I.

Ipart of this tendency is due to the fact that almost no work has been done in the West on Tokugawa economic development. The only study of agricultural growth in any detail is Thomas A. Smith, The Agraqarian Origins of Modern Japan (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1959) . Other works view the silk industry exclusively— or almost so— in terms of changes in the Meiji period; see, for example, William W. Lockwood, The Economic Development of Japan, expanded ed. (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1968).

^Takahashi Kamekichi, Tokugawa hOken keizai no kenyU (Tokyo: Senshin Sha, 1932), pp. 137-38.

^ôtsuka Ryôtarô, ed. Sanshi, 2 vols. (Tokyo; Fusoen, 1900), 1:136-137.

^Hirano Murayakuba, ed., Hirano sonshi, 2 vols. (Hirano: Hirano Murayakuba, 1933), 2:5 (hereafter cited as Hirano, IK).

Sibid., 2:4.

®Honda Iwajiro, Nihon sanshigyo shi (Tokyo: Dai Nihon Sanshikai, 1935), pp. 23-27.

^Takahashi Keizai Kenkyujo, ed., Nihon sanshigyo hattatsu sh i , vol. 1 (Tokyo: Seikatsu Sha, 1941), pp. 15-16.

^Yamamoto, Seishiqyo kindaika no kenkyu, p. 11

®The text of the decree is reprinted in full in Gunma-ken SanshigyS Shi Hensan linkai, ed., Gunma-ken sanshigyo shi, 2 vols. (Maebashi: Gunma-ken Sanshigyo KyQkai, 1954-55), 2(1954):477 (hereafter cited as Gunma, GSS).

lOGeorge Sansom, A History of Japan 1615-1867 (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1963), pp. 142-46.

llTakahashi Keizai Kenkyujo, Nihon sanshigyo hattatsu sh i , 1:19.

12lbid., pp. 18-19.

l^Ibid., pp. 23-24; Otsuka, Sanshi, 1:126-127; Takashima Ryota, Shinano sangyo enkaku shiryo (Nagano: Shinano Sanshikumiai Jimusho, 1892), p. 112.

14Hirano, HS, 2:19. 63

l^Takahashi Keizai Kenkyujo, Nihon sanshigyo hattatsu shi, 1:25.

^^Quoted in Otsuka, Sanshi, 1: 126-27.

^^Takahashi Keizai Kenkyujo, Nihon sanshigyo hattatsu shi, 1:28

l^Deiaand extended to the countryside as well, as over time a wealthy landowning class developed. One writer in the 1780's observed that it was difficult to tell townspeople and farmers apart because both wore the same fine (i.e., silk) clothing. Quoted in Takahashi Kamekichi, Tokugawa hôken keizai no kenkyu, p. 168.

^^Takahashi Keizai Kenkyujo, Nihon sanshigyo hattatsu shi, 1:17.

20otsuka, Sanshi, 1; 136-37.

Z^Based on information in Otsuka, Sanshi 2: appendix, p p . 6-9.

22References to the importance of the Genroku era can be found in Honda, Nihon sanshigyo shi, p. 29, Shinano, SSS 3:15-17, and Yagi, Nihon kindai seishigyo no seiritsu, p. 34, among others.

23see, for example. Smith, The Agrarian Origins of Modern Japan, especially Chapter 7.

^^Takahashi Keizai Kenkyujo, Nihon sanshigyo hattatsu shi, 1:147-49; Yamamoto, SeishigyS kindaika no kenkyu, pp. 5-7; Okumura Sh5ji, Koban kiito watetsu (Tokyo: Iwanami Shinsho, 1973) pp. 82-86.

25sano Akira, Dai Nihon sanshi: seishi (Dai Nihon Sanshi Hensan Jimusho, 1898), pp. 205-15, 305.

Z^Takahashi Keizai Kenkyujo, Nihon sanshigyo hattatsu shi, 1:150-57.

27okumura, Koban kiito watetsu, pp. 91-92; Kajinishi Mitsuhaya, Gijutsu hattatsu shi: keikôgyô (Tokyo: Kawade Shobo, 1968), pp. 98-99.

28okumura, Koban kiito watetsu, pp. 90-95; Kajinishi, Gijutsu hattatsu shi: keikôgyô, pp. 99-103; Honda, Nihon sanshigyo shi, pp. 36-37.

Z^Takashima, Shinano sangyS enkaku shiryo, p. 111. 64

30shinano, SSS, 3:1148.

31lbid., p. 1143.

S^Takashima, Shinano sangyo enkaku shiryS, p. 116-21.

33shimotakai Gunyakusho, ed., Shimotakai gunshi (Shimo-takai: Shimotakai Gunyakusho, 1922), p. 442.

34ghinano, SSS, 3:48.

35Maebashi Shishi Hensan linkai, ed., Maebashi shishi, 4 vols. (Maebashi: Maebashi Shishi Hensan linkai, 1975), 3:405-406; Gunma, GSS, 1:547-48.

3^Maebashi Shishi Hensan linkai, Maebashi Shishi, 3:403.

^^Hirano, HS, 2:7.

38lbid.; Maebashi Shishi Hensan linkai, Maebashi shishi, 3:407.

39shinano, SSS, 3:42.

^^^Yoshinaga Akira, "Kitashin chiho no seishigyo, " in Chihoshi Kenkyu KySgikai, ed. Nihon sanqyoshi taikei, vol. 5, (Tokyo: Tokyo Daigaku Shuppankai, I960), pp. 198-99.

^^Shinano, SSS, 3:46

42Takeda Yasuhiro and Ito Masayoshi point out that, even with the introduction of summer silkworm strains, reelers worked for only about eighty days a year; See Takeda and Ito, "SeishigyS no tenkai," in Okaya Shiyakusho, ed., Okaya shishi 3 vols. (Okaya: Okaya Shiyakusho, 1976), 2:430. In Gunma, where cocoon preservation techniques were more advanced, there were a few cases in the early 1800's where people reeled thread as the main source of their income, but not for many years in succession. For a case study of this, see Inoue Sadayoshi and Yamada Takemaro, "Gunma no seishi," in Chihoshi Kenkyü KySgikai, ed., Nihon sanqySshi taikei, vol. 4, (Tokyo: Tokyo Daigaku Shuppankai, 1959) pp. 263-69.

43shinano, SSS, 3:40-44; Hirano HS, 2:11-12.

44Takeda and Ito, "Seishigyo no tenkai," p. 453.

45Takahashi Keizai Kenkyujo, Nihon sanshigyo hattatsu shi, 1:50-53. 65

46shinano, SSS, 3:34.

4?Yoshinaga, "Kitashin chiho no seishigyo," pp. 205-06.

48Takahashi Keizai Kenkyujo, Nihon sanshigyg hattatsu shi, 1:142-43. Prices on the Maebashi market are assumed to reflect a nationwide trend; given the relative stability of the industry in Gunma, the degree of fluctuation elsewhere must certainly have been as high, and may well have been higher.

49ybshinaga, "Kitashin chiho no seishigyo," pp. 198-99.

SOshinano, SSS, 3:19.

SlHirano, HS, 2:28-29.

52lbid., p. 29.

53shinano, SSS, 3:20.

S^Hirano, HS, 2:41.

^^Gunma, GSS, 1:438.

56pujisawa Naoshi, Ueda shishi (Nagano: Shinano Mainichi Shinbun Sha, 1940), P. 1101.

57ôtsuka, Sanshi, 1:192; Hirano, HS, 2:43.

5®Hashimoto Jûhyôei, Kiito boeki no hensen (Tokyo: Murayamasha Honten, 1902), pp. 26-27.

59shinano, SSS, 3:20.

G^Exports of raw silk in 1860 amounted to 812,780 lbs., according to Hashimoto, Kiito boeki no hensen, p. 26; had the Bakufu's limitations been observed, the figure would have been about 241,560 lbs.

6lGunma-ken Naimubu, ed., Gunma-ken sanshigyo enkaku chSsasho: kiito no bu (Gunma: Gunma-ken Naimubu, 1903), pp. 32-33 (hereafter cited as Gunma, GSEC).

62lbid., p. 33.

^^Gunma, GSS, 1:626.

G4por the complete edict, see Otsuka, Sanshi, 1:226-27. 66

ôSnirano, HS, 2:67.

ôôpor examples, see Ibid., p. 42 and Otsuka, Sanshi, 1:226-27.

67ghinano, SSS, 3:20-24.

GSTakeda and Ito, "SeishigyS no tenkai," p. 440.

G^Gunma, GSEC, pp. 23-24.

70Gunma, GSS, 1:625.

7lGunma, GSEC, pp. 30-31.

72Gunma, GSS, 1:633.

73in Ueda, for example, the weaving industry declined precipitously as almost all raw silk produced in the area began to be shipped out to Yokohama. See Fujisawa, Ueda shishi, 1102-03.

74i>akahashi Keizai Kenkyujo, Nihon sanshigyo hattatsu shi, 1:87.

75Gunma, GSS, 1:592.

76ibid., p. 678.

77nirano, HS, 2:59.

78ibid., p. 61.

79Takashima, Shinano sangyS enkaku shiryo, p. 11.

SOnirano, HS, 2:59.

Bllbid., pp. 60-61.

82gee Suwa Kyoikukai, ed., Suwa (Nagano: Shinano Mainichi Shinbun Sha, 1943), p. 335; Oguchi Uzuhiko, "Suwa chiho no sanshigyo," in ChihOshi Kenkyu Kyogikai, ed., Nihon sanqyoshi taikei, vol. 5, p. 193; and Hirano HS, 2:68-69 for export figures. The figures differ widesly, but Hirano sonshi is probably most reliable. In any case, it is clear that production of raw silk went up by an enormous amount.

83Gunma, GSEC, pp. 25-26.

84Hirano, HS, 2:60-63. 67

S^The volume and average annual price of raw silk exports for the pre-Restoration period are approximately as follows :

Raw Silk Exports (lbs.) Price (per 100 lbs.)

1859 487 ,625 1860 812,780 1861 922,424 3280 1862 1,414,914 $305 1863 1,294,719 3348 1864 1,343,164 $379 1865 941,642 3467 1866 1,101,546 $564 1867 1,000,117 3580

Export figures were taken from Hashimoto, Kiito boeki no hensen, pp. 26-■27; prices, from Otsuka, Sanshi, 1:289-90.

®®Based on statistics in Hirano, HS, 2:70, and Suwa Kyoikukai, Suwa, p. 335.

8?Takashima, Shinano sangyS enkaku shiryo, pp. 113-14.

^^Takahashi Keizai Kenkyujo, Nihon sanshigyo hattatsu shi. 1:68-69.

39Mori Taikichiro, Sanshigyo shihonshugi shi (Tokyo: Moriyama Shoten, 1931), p. 7; Hirano, HS, 2:85.

90ln an examination of collective reeling in the Hirano area in the early 1860's, Yagi Akio has shown that women not only worked away from home, they worked increasingly far away— i.e., in the next county, not simply the next village. See Yagi, Nihon kindai seishigyo no seiritsu, pp. 68-72. CHAPTER II

TRIAL AND ERROR: 'THE MODEL FILATURES

After more than a decade of being buffeted from within

Japan and without, the Tokugawa Bakufu finally collapsed

early in 1868. With the feudal government's demise came the

ascension to power of a group of intensely pragmatic men who

had little or no affection for, or attachment to, the old way

of doing things. For the silk industry this portended

momentous changes once again, and indeed some of them came

quickly. In short order, the new Meiji government did away

with the institutional restrictions that had kept the

industry in check through most of the Edo period. Japan was

officially "opened" once and for all with the appointment of

Date Munenari as the nation's first foreign minister (gaikoku

gakari) in February 1368, and the new government shortly

thereafter reaffirmed the principle of free trade (despite

the limitations imposed by the West in the treaty-port

system) by removing those checks still in force on imports

and exports. In May of that year, the government abolished all of the old regime's officially licensed commercial

organizations, including that of the Edo wholesalers, thereby publically sanctioning international trading by anyone with

68 59 the money and the mettle to try it. In September 1871, the ban on the use of paddy land for crops other than rice was lifted; one year later the government granted the peasantry the right to pursue non-agricultural occupations— thus providing a legal basis for farmers to move into silk production, to send their daughters to work as silk reelers, and to buy and sell freely silk-related products. The government gave the warrior class what it euphemistically called "freedom of occupation" at the end of 1871; in effect, the bushi were thereby deprived of their status (and their stipends), and the measure accelerated the drift of many members of that class to silk production as a way of making a living. Finally, the new government abolished the sumptuary edicts imposed during the course of the Tokugawa period.^

None of these actions was taken with the silk industry specifically in mind; nor did they have any appreciable effect on the growth of silk reeling at first, since the measures amounted to little more than a legitimization of phenomena which already existed. But this is not to say that the new government was unconcerned about the state of silk production. Most of its leaders were from outlying han whose governments had been relatively activist in economic policy, and these men were not unaware of the advantages of a prosperous silk-reeling industry as a source of exports to the West, and as a source of capital for the ambitious modernization they envisaged. Furthermore, the Meiji 70 government had inherited the financial chaos of the last Edo years, and had somehow to turn the situation around. The silk industry was obviously attractive in this regard; except in 1865, the value of raw silk exported through

Yokohama had consistently dwarfed that of all other commodities, and in 1868 alone accounted for almost forty per cent of the value of all exports, and forty-five per cent of 2 all tax revenues therefrom. Even in terms of domestic revenue, the silk industry stood out, furnishing over one-fifth of all receipts, excluding those from the land tax, in 1870; the percentage dropped drastically from 1874 as revenues from other commodities rose markedly, and the domestic tax on silk products was abolished altogether in

1878.^ But for the first few years of the Meiji regime, the silk industry was essential to the very functioning of the government. It is not surprising, then, that in the midst of all its other concerns the government did appreciate the importance of the industry in general, and of silk reeling in particular. It could hardly have done otherwise.

Yet despite the healthy revenues generated for the public treasury by the silk industry, the problems that had plagued silk production since 1860 had remained unsolved, and the government could ignore them only at its own financial peril. The Bakufu, as we have seen, had been able to do little to stem the deterioration in silk quality, or to prevent deceptive merchandising; and in the confusion that 71

followed the Restoration these problems worsened. Even the

new government's free trade policy exacerbated the

situation: the quality of silk thread declined precipitously

as virtually all the best silkworm eggs were exported,

forcing silk reelers to rely on inferior strains. Thread

from Nagano, which had been rated rather highly by Western merchants in the first years of trade, acquired after 1868 a

reputation as the worst of Japan's raw silk, and producers

found that they could sell it for export only by going through merchants in Maebashi, who subsequently sold it as 4 Gunma thread. Most ominously of all for a government so dependent on silk exports, prices for thread on the Yokohama market at last began to reflect the decline in quality.

Prices fell by one-third in 1868, the first decline since trade with the West had begun; and though they rose in 1869, they resumed their downward trend throughout 1870 and 1871.^

The new government's initial response to the situation was to resort to traditional mechanisms in an attempt to turn

things around. In April 1868, it announced the establishment of a new inspection center in Tokyo, and ordered that all

thread and silkworn eggs bound for export be certified there, and checked once again at one of two inspection centers in

Yokohama, prior to shipment overseas. This first attempt by the Meiji government at quality control was not entirely a repetition of what the Bakufu had done: the purpose, for one thing, was not to restrict exports, but to certify them and 72

collect production data; and at least there was no connection

with the infamous Edo wholesalers, though silk merchants did

carry out the actual inspection. Still, that the main

objective was financial is clear: the proposal for the

system, submitted by a silk dealer in Edo, predicted that

inspection would be "uncommonly profitable for the

nation."^ Certification required, as before, the payment

of a fee; this being the case, to producers and shippers the

system no doubt looked like more of the same. They

responded, as might be expected, by bypassing it as much as possible, so that in June 1869, the government had to send

out a notice strictly forbidding direct sales to Yokohama

dealers without first receiving certification through the

inspection centers, and prescribing severe penalties for 7 those who ignored the system.

Just how much of what was exported actually went

through the inspection centers is not clear. What is

apparent is that the system did not result in higher

quality— nor could it have, given the way it operated. The

government could have attempted to encourage more careful

production by having the centers reject the worst of what was

submitted, but it apparently did not. It might at least have penalized those who submitted thread of poor quality by

charging them higher fees for certification, but in fact Q assessments were uniform. The new government, like its

predecessor, had made nominal gestures in the direction of 73

quality control, while expending most of its energy

collecting revenue, and the results were predictable. Any

effect the system had on prices was temporary at best since,

as noted above, prices fell again in 1870 and 1871; and the

price rise in 1869 had not been enough to offset the decline

in 1868.^ Just as significant was another, equally

disturbing turn of events: the volume of raw silk exports plummeted by forty per cent in 1869, and went down a further

six per cent the following year.^^

By 1871, the situation was, or seemed to be, serious enough for the Western merchant community in Yokohama to submit, through the American ambassador, a report to the

Meiji government urging it to take immediate ameliorative measures. The merchants stated that Japanese raw silk was of such poor quality that Western weavers could not use it, and that much of the thread that had been exported the previous year was laying unsold on the docks of Europe. They blamed the problem on bad reeling and packaging techniques, and on the mass export of the country's best silkworms, and warned of dire consequences unless these trends were reversed.

The government was sufficiently impressed by the report to have it translated and distributed throughout the major silk-producing regions, but to no apparent effect. In early

1872, the merchants submitted another report, which was more comprehensive and even gloomier than the first, predicting in very specific terms a steady deterioration in the ability of 74 raw silk from Japan to compete internationally unless the better silkworm strains were kept at home. Once again, the government translated the document, and included it in an announcement it issued in May 1872 which, among other things, chastised silkworm producers for preoccupying 12 themselves with their own welfare. But the problem was a particularly vexing one for the government because, committed as it was to the principle of free trade, there was little it could— or did— do apart from encouraging production of better silkworms for domestic use. The only effective solution to the ruinous outflow of silkworms was a decline in overseas demand, which was precisely what happened from the mid 1870's.l3

In any case, the most immediate concern for the government was the silk-reeling industry itself, since it was export revenues from raw silk that were, at that point, so important. Clearly, it seemed, resolute measures of some sort would have to be taken to improve production methods for raw silk. The government had, in fact, already begun to take tentative steps in the direction of a more activist and supportive policy vis-a-vis the silk-reeling industry. In

1869, it had had printed a sericulture manual, the preface of which noted that exports, especially of raw silk, were "the surest way to national wealth", and that in order to increase sales to the West "such Western methods as differ (from our own) must be learned.That the new government made a 75

connection at all between exports and the enhancement of the

national welfare set it light years apart from the Bakufu;

that it called for the acquistion of Western methods was an

equally fundamental departure in policy. Still, it left

unsaid by what means or in what form Western techniques might

be introduced.

The Ministry of Civil Affairs took up the matter in a

lengthy directive on sericulture which it issued and had

distributed in February 1870. The Ministry spelled out in

very specific terms what it saw as the major problem besetting the silk-reeling industry, and how it thought the problem should be solved. The directive stated, in part, that

Japanese raw silk is of poor quality solely because the nation has no good machinery. Therefore it behooves us to build European-style machines. People at present are worried only about exporting as much as possible to get the highest profit; they do not care if the thread is good or bad, and pay little heed to production methods. There has been so much bad, dirty thread this year that much of it cannot be exported and had to be used at home; the result has been substantial losses for many, including Japanese merchants. Merchants therefore should consider these problems carefully. If they can distribute good machinery around the country, the quality (of thread) will improve substantially. Also, if foreigners are hired as instructors, the necessary skills can be learned in a short period; they will not have to be employed for very long, and the quality and the price of thread will go up, making it easy to defray the cost of the machinery.

Quite clearly, the government here viewed the problem of poor-quality thread mainly in terms of reeling techniques and machinery rather than as a consequence of inferior raw material. At the same time, it should be noted, the directive elsewhere did not eliminate the possibility of 76 improving traditional techniques; indeed, as we shall see, the government never ruled out this approach as an alternative to mechanization. In any case, as clear as the government's diagnosis was its insistence that the responsibility for corrective action lay in the hands of businessmen, not public officials. This is not surprising; the government was not really in a position to direct, much less to finance, any major program of mechanization; and merchants, particularly those who dealt with Western companies in Yokohama, were probably in the best position to obtain information about Western methods. What is suprising is the fact that, despite the call for private initiative, in the same month the directive was issued the government began plans for a huge model filature at Tomioka that it considered, at least in the beginning, the cornerstone of the effort to modernize the silk-reeling industry. If the government's policy here was contradictory, it was not the first time this was the case; nor would it be the last.

Tomioka Filature: The Making of a Model

In 1869, the head of the Dutch commercial office in

Yokohama wrote a letter to Ito Hirobumi, then the Vice

Minister of Finance, in which he noted the poor quality of recent Japanese raw silk and offered to build a model silk-reeling operation that would, he said, transform the industry and result in substantial profit for all parties 77 concerned. When Ito replied to the effect that treaty provisions rendered the request impossible, the merchant responded by suggesting that the Japanese government assume directorship of the operation, while he supplied the capital and the technology. Ito again turned him down but, intrigued by the merchant's apparent conviction of the profitability of such a venture, initiated discussions between the Ministries of Finance and Civil Affairs on the advisability of a project along the lines suggested by the merchant. The result was a decision by the government to hire foreign advisors and set up a model filature. Ito and Shibusawa Eiichi, then head of the Finance Ministry's Taxation Bureau and the only high official with any background at all in the silk industry, were assigned the task of securing the necessary Western assistance.On the advice of French businessmen, they engaged a young Frenchman with experience in the silk trade in Lyons and Yokohama, Paul Brunat, to oversee the operation. A provisional contract was drawn up, and at the government's request Brunat submitted a prospectus on the project shortly thereafter.

It is apparent from his prospectus that Brunat viewed the proposed filature as a business venture, the aim of which should be to make a profit; the first priority he set for the operation was the "prevention of losses"; upgrading quality and disseminating new techniques were to take second place to finances. This being the case, Brunat advised 78 against importing Western machinery and techniques lock, stock, and barrel; instead, he said, the most efficient approach would be to teach Japanese the methods that had been devised in the West so that they might in turn adapt them to circumstances peculiar to the silk-reeling industry in Japan, and thereby improve their own traditional techniques. If this were done, he reasoned, there would be no abrupt break from the past, but rather a revision of traditional techniques that could be more easily copied by producers than something totally new and foreign. Furthermore, in order for the operation to achieve its objectives quickly and inexpensively, he proposed that the women selected for training be those most experienced in traditional reeling; attempts to teach novices— or, he added, attempts to teach anyone totally new techniques— would require an inordinate amount of time and money, as well as an excessively large number of foreign instructors.

Brunat's insistence that existing production methods be accomodated somehow in the new filature was further reflected in his request that, once the region in which the place was to be built had been determined, he be allowed to spend time there to see how the machinery currently in use might be improved, and to find out how amenable people in the area were to change. He also suggested that at least some of the equipment for the filature be made in Japan, though by a

Westerner who, he insisted, would first have to go to Europe 79 to buy other necessary machinery. In terms of scale, he recommended that the operation have three hundred reeling frames, which would require, according to his estimates, about 460 Japanese employees, including managerial and supervisory personnel, and a Western staff of at least three supervisors and six female instructors. In a further attempt to reduce the cost of the proposed filature, he suggested that some of the Western technical personnel be brought in temporarily from the French-assisted shipyard at Yokohama, and that a water wheel be considered as a possible source of 18 power rather than steam.

The government reacted favorably to Brunat's prospectus and, almost immediately after receiving the document, sent Brunat and a Japanese official out to the major production areas to decide where to build. After looking at possible locations in Gunma, Saitama and Nagano,

Brunat opted for Tomioka; the government agreed and, on

November 29, 1870, a final contract was signed by Brunat and representatives of the Ministry of Civil Affairs. The terms of the contract were in large measure in accordance with the suggestions Brunat had made in his prospectus.

Significantly, however, no mention was made of any adaptation to existing reeling methods, and Brunat was ordered to go to

France in December to purchase all machinery needed for the filature, including steam engines, and to hire the French personnel. The contract reserved the ultimate 80

decision-making authority for the appropriate Japanese

government officials, though at the same time it gave Brunat

considerable latitude with regard to selection and

supervision of the Western employees, acquisition of raw

material, and assignment of duties for Japanese working at

the filature. Brunat's period of employment was set at five

years beginning January 1871; other foreign employees were to

serve at the government's discretion for at least two years,

but for not more than four. Finally, the contract stipulated

that, in the event that the filature was operating at a loss

at the end of 1873 and that there was little likelihood of

improvement in the foreseeable future, the government could,

if it so chose, release all foreign employees, including 19 Brunat, with pay up to that time and passage home.

This last stipulation is significant; along with the

circumstances, described above, under which the proposal for

the filature was made and adopted, it reflects the fact that

the government had in mind an operation that was to be not only an example for others to follow and to learn from, but also a source of public profit. But at the same time, the government was about to embark on what was to be one of its 20 more financially ambitious exercises in model-building , on a filature whose scale and sophistication were far above any silk-reeling operation then in existence in Japan; and in the process it was displaying little, if any, real caution.

Apparently without much debate, the government had agreed to 81

appropriate a large amount of money to set the operation up,

and it gave a free hand to a Frenchman no one really knew,

altering his proposals only by making them less potentially

adaptable to the Japanese context. Caution, of course, does

not generally lend itself to spectacular achievements, and

the government's plans for Tomioka were nothing if not

grandiose. But grandiosity would not run a filature, and the

government would soon have to make very specific managerial

decisions that would unalterably affect the performance and

fate of what was seen, at first, as the place that would turn

the silk-reeling industry around.

On the same day Brunat's contract was signed, the government appointed five officials from the Ministries of

Finance and Civil Affairs to supervise construction of the

filature. These included Shibusawa Eiichi and his cousin

Odaka Atsutada, who was de facto head of the group, and who 21 would eventually become Tomioka's first director. Prior

to his departure for Europe in January 1371, Brunat went

again to Tomioka with Odaka and several others, this time to

choose the construction site for the filature. On their way,

the group stopped in Maebashi to discuss the project with

Hayami Kenzo, who was gaining increasing official prominence

as Maebashi han's silk-reeling expert and as the founder of

Japan's first Western-style filature. To the undoubted

dismay of Odaka and his coterie, Hayami expressed strong

reservations not only about the advisability of the Tomioka 82 project, but about Brunat's qualifications to oversee the operation. Hayami's main point, which until that time had not been considered and which did not lend itself to easy rebuttal, was that the proposed filature would be too large, and its technology too complex and expensive, to be of any immediate benefit to Japan's silk-reeling industry. For the first time, someone had challenged the very nature of the project; but whatever the merits of Hayami's position, the government had already made up its mind, and neither Odaka nor anyone else gave much afterthought to what he had said.^^

The reaction to the project in the Tomioka area was no more reassuring, though for somewhat different reasons. When the site for the filature was finally chosen, Odaka and the other officials went to great pains to minimize local opposition. By using land previously owned by the local feudal lord and purchasing adjacent property which, being rocky, was not intensely cultivated, they avoided disrupting 23 the area's agricultural routine. The officials were careful to assure those residents concerned that they would receive proper payment for their land and, as a final precautionary measure, obtained a statement signed by all local residents declaring that they would not obstruct the 24 construction or operation of the filature. But though the government could thereby obtain the consent of Tomioka's residents, it could do little to arouse their enthusiasm. 33

Tomioka, after all, had had a long and profitable history of zaquri silk reeling, and was doing rather well at it on the export market; local producers therefore had great difficulty understanding why such an operation as the government planned was even necessary, especially in their area. No one took the project seriously; most, in fact, greeted it with derision. Many feared the wrath of the local gods, which they thought would be the inevitable result of the desecration of land they considered sacred, and of the 25 impending presence of "red-haired, blue-eyed foreigners."

Odaka was shrewd enough to appeal to the residents' patriotic sentiments, and he managed to assuage their anxieties by convincing them that the gods would, in fact, look with great favor upon the filature because its purpose was to benefit the people.But popular sentiment was not the only obstacle Odaka faced. The sheer problem of constructing the buildings was a monumental one, compounded by the fact that Tomioka was (and remains to this day) difficult of access, approachable only in a roundabout way over secondary roads. Brunat had arrived back in Japan in 27 the summer of 1871 , bringing with him the reeling equipment and some of the French personnel. The machinery had to be transported from Yokohama over often difficult terrain. In addiiton, the blueprints for Tomioka, drawn up by a French architect employed at the government's Yokosuka shipyard, had specified that the exterior of the buildings be 84

of brick— a commodity practically nonexistent in Japan

outside of Yokohama and Tokyo, and unheard of in places like

Tomioka. Odaka and Brunat hired traditional tilemakers who,

after some experimentation, managed to produce a reasonable 28 facsimile to brick.

Problems like the above were inevitable given the fact

that the buildings constructed at Tomioka were largely

without precedent in Japan in terms of material, construction

and design, and were put up in the countryside. Whether all

this was really necessary, whether the operation could not

just as well have been housed in buildings constructed

according to traditional methods, were questions no one seems

to have brought up at the time. When finished, the entire

complex of buildings was, for its time and especially for its place, massive. In retrospect, what is most impressive here

is the speed with which everything was done despite all the

obstacles: construction began in March 1871, and was for the

most part completed in July of the next year, and the 29 filature was ready to begin production in early autumn.

Yet other fundamental problems had to be solved before

Tomioka could actually begin operations. For one thing, the

government had yet to consider seriously the question of how

the place ought to run. As the prospective director of the

filature and the man most intimately connected with the

mechanics of getting it built, Odaka took a distinctly less

cavalier approach to the project than others seem to have. 85

and he broached the issue of management in a memorandum to

the government shortly before Tomioka was to open. The terms

of the contract with Brunat had, as Odaka acknowledged,

implied that the entire operation— from obtaining raw

materials to retailing the final product— was to be in

government hands; this meant, of course, that the government

was solely liable for losses incurred. But Odaka suggested

that it was not at all clear that this would be the best

approach, and offered two alternatives; Tomioka could simply

reel on contract for others, in which case it would avoid the hazards involved in purchasing raw material (i.e. cocoons) and in transporting and retailing the finished product; or the government could enter into a partnership with a

(necessarily) wealthy private producer for half of the output, while the other half would be produced on contract.

Odaka included a detailed analysis of the potential costs and benefits of each approach, and left it up to his

superiors to decide; but the very fact that he introduced possibilities other than that suggested in Brunat's contract

indicates, at the very least, that he had reservations about a purely state-run enterprise. His suggestions seem to have had no influence on the government, however; although there

is no record of what officials thought of Odaka's ideas--if

indeed they considered them at all— Odaka later recalled that on the basis of a survey of cocoon prices, which he drew up 86 at the time and which showed little flux over the preceding thirteen years, the government concluded that, even handling everything itself, it could make the filature a going concern.Once again, then, the government clearly indicated that it wanted, and expected, to reap profits from the operation; but it also wanted a model, and for this purpose had already spent a considerable amount of money, and had committed itself to spend more. Odaka's memorandum points, however obliquely, to the possible incompatibility of these two objectives by suggesting that if Tomioka were an exclusively public enterprise it might entail more financial risk than the government was really willing to bear. The issue was bypassed at this point, but it could not be ignored indefinitely.

The other major problem that had to be dealt with before the filature could open was the recruitment of employees, and the solution which the government adopted here was to have a decisive influence on the nature and the effect of what was done at Tomioka. In February 1872, the Finance

Ministry, which had assumed jurisdiction over Tomioka upon the elimination of the Civil Affairs Ministry in 1871, sent a notice to the prefectural governments informing them that the filature would soon be ready to begin production, and asking 3 2 them to recruit women to work and train there.

Understandably, there was virtually no response to this.

Tomioka was, as noted above, remote, even from other areas in 87 the same prefecture (Gunma), and it should not have been unexpected that people would be unwilling to send their daughters to such an isolated place, particularly since the central government, rather shortsightedly, did not offer to pay for their transportation expenses. But the crux of the matter here was not the location or even, it seems, the fact that the filature represented something completely new; these were incidental compared with the fact that Tomioka was to be supervised by Westerners. Shortly after the French employees arrived at the site in early 1872, someone had seen them drinking red wine, and promptly leaped to the conclusion that they were fond of imbibing the blood of Japanese. The rumor, and other similarly sordid ones, spread, as rumors are wont to do, with remarkable rapidity, and had far more persuasive impact on most people than the government's request for 33 prospective employees.

Recognizing the problem, the Finance Ministry issued a second announcement in June, sent it to all city and county offices, and instructed them to distribute copies to villages under their jurisdiction. The announcement was long and specific, the government's first detailed public statement with regard to the filature and its purpose. It cited problems associated with poor production techniques, and declared that Tomioka was meant to remedy this by producing raw silk which would be of the finest quality. Everyone, regardless of status, was invited to visit the place and 88 examine its technology, and to send their daughters there for training under foreign supervision. The announcement denounced as absurd the notion that Westerners employed at

Tomioka were, literally, bloodthirsty. In an apparent attempt to head off rumors regarding the government's real motives in establishing Tomioka, the announcement also stressed that the filature's purpose was to train women so that they might, in turn, transmit their acquired skills throughout the nation; once this mission was accomplished, the place would be sold. Citizens were therefore cautioned not to be misled by rumors in this regard; the government's aim, it said, was not to obtain profits for itself, or to usurp the profits of the people, but "to enrich the entire citizenry."

The announcement's calculated appeal to patriotism, as well as its decidedly defensive tone, suggests the extent of the problem the government was having with the public.

Officials were trying mightily to overcome fear of the

Westerners and distrust of the government, but to little avail; the June announcement had no more effect than the earlier one had had. By October, Tomioka was ready to begin reeling operations; but the government had managed to round up only one hundred or so women, most of them the daughters of the Bakufu's hapless direct vassals, sent to Tomioka under 35 duress. Witn barely one-fourth of the necessary work force, officials were becoming desperate, and in October the 89

Finance Ministry sent a notice to five prefectures, in effect

ordering them to produce at least ten trainees each as soon as possible. Even with this, results were mixed: only two prefectures came up with the requisite number, and two failed

to send any women at all.^^ As a last resort, Odaka brought his own thirteen-year-old daughter to Tomioka and

then persuaded others— mostly fellow samurai— near his home 37 to do the same. Bushi in general were much more

susceptible to the kind of patriotic appeal the government was making, so that the pattern set by Odaka was ultimately repeated elsewhere, and by January 1873, Tomioka had a work 38 force of 404 women.

In terms of sheer numbers, then, the government had managed to surmount the recruitment hurdle. But the numbers are misleading because, whether the government chose to recognize it or not (and there is no indication that it did), the solution actually created other problems for the filature. For one thing, the geographical background of the women who were recruited indicates that, if Tomioka was going to have any immediate effect at all, it would be extremely localized; fully half of the women came from within Gunma prefecture, and another fourth from neighboring Saitama. The pattern shifted slightly thereafter, but there was no appreciable representation from, for example, the Kinki area 39 until 1876. Of even greater importance in terms of effect on the filature's ability to function as expected was 90 the fact that almost all of the trainees were of samurai background. Not only that; as one trainee, herself the daughter of a samurai, observed, most of the women were

"refined" and "city-bred— hardly the sort to have had much, if any, silk-reeling experience behind them, and altogether a far cry from the kind of trainees Brunat had in mind when he wrote his prospectus.

The government had not intended this eventuality. As noted above, it had gone through a number of schemes aimed at recruiting a reasonably representative, and capable, work force; it had made it clear, especially in the June 1872 announcement, that Tomioka was to be open to all, regardless of status, and it had on no occasion asked specifically that daughters of bushi be sent as trainees. Part of the problem was certainly beyond the government's control; the fear of working under foreign supervision was quite genuine, as was the reluctance to send young women to a location far from home. It is not surprising that the peasantry of the country, which after all had been closed for over two centuries, reacted as they did; and it is difficult to see what officials could have done to persuade people otherwise.

Still, the situation was to some degree one of the government's own making; among other things, it neglected to provide for the trainees' transportation, and it required that the women stay at Tomioka for at least a year— a useless rule which was impossible to enforce.Indeed, that 91

Tomioka Filature ended up with about four hundred genteel and

inexperienced young ladies of patrician rather than peasant birth reflects the lack of planning and foresight that characterized preparations for the project. The government put much time and money into construction, machinery, staff and the like, but gave relatively little thought to the more

fundamental aspects of running the operation, such as defining its purpose, deciding how it was to be managed, and

finding people to work there. Even before the filature opened, Odaka and Hayami, both of whom were to play important roles in Tomioka's future, had expressed misgivings over this lack of forethought. Odaka had gone as far as to suggest that the government was not the proper one to manage the place, and that financial problems might arise if it tried.

Both he and Hayami were ignored on these points, and the issues they raised remained unsettled.

Tomioka Under French Tutelage; The Uneasy Alliance

In any case, with the arrival of the requisite number of trainees, Tomioka finally began operations in earnest in

January 1873. Along with Brunat, the French staff consisted

Of his two assistants, a coppersmith, a doctor, a machinist 42 and four women instructors. The women had, of course, more direct contact with the trainees than the other

Frenchmen, but even in their case contact, in the form of 92 instruction, was limited; they explained the techniques to four trainees, each of whom in turn instructed five other employees, and so on. Techniques were therefore transmitted down the line, as it were. The process was a sensible one, considering the large number of trainees involved and the fact that the French women could not speak Japanese to any appreciable extent; it had the additional advantage of averting potential problems arising from contact with the

Westerners, though in fact there seems to have been little trouble in this regard despite all the initial apprehension.

The French instructors were strict, but no more so than their

Japanese counterparts.^^ There is no evidence to suggest any serious conflict or rancor between the Western personnel and the trainees; the two extant accounts by trainees in

Tomioka's first years treat the French women, in particular, in almost incidental fashion, suggesting that, in time, the trainees simply accepted the presence of the Westerners as a 44 matter of course.

The same cannot be said of officials connected with

Tomioka, or of the government in general. Although it had been responsible for the employment of the French personnel in the first place, the government was never enthusiastic about the foreigners' participation, and made no effort to keep them any longer than absolutely necessary, if that long. Part of the problem was, simply, money. Relative to the Japanese staff at the filature, the French employees 93 received extraordinarily high remuneration; in 1373, their salaries and expenses accounted for forty-six per cent of 45 Tomioka's budget. The government was paying dearly for the French employees' services, and obviously could not continue to do so indefinitely. In addition, relations between the French and Japanese staffs do not seem to have been particularly harmonious. The Japanese no doubt resented the princely salaries the French received as well as the implication that they were somehow less qualified than the Westerners. At one point Odaka referred, with understandable indignation, to an opinion common among

Western merchants that Tomioka was able to produce good raw silk only because the French were there; as he saw it, practically the opposite was true, and the first two years of the filature's existence were a time of "almost complete commotion" during which nothing substantial could be 46 accomplished, all because of the French advisors.

Odaka’s criticism was exceptionally harsh, and almost certainly overdrawn, since it is difficult to conceive how

Tomioka could have operated had the French not been there at least in the beginning. But Odaka, after all, was the official most directly responsible for the French employees, and it was he who had to attend to their needs, respond to their requests or demands, and mediate between them and the

Japanese staff; it is not therefore surprising that he tended to view their presence as a nuisance rather than as an asset. 94

Odaka did not really have to complain for very long.

Though Brunat's contract had specified that the French advisors were to stay for at least two years, in fact almost all of them left early— some almost immediately. The coppersmith left as soon as the machinery was installed in late 1872; the machinist returned to Franch upon completion of his duties in November 1873, along with one of the French women, who resigned because of illness.Brunat's two assistants were summarily dismissed in the same month for violating the terms of their contract by going to Yokohama without permission. Brunat concurred in the decision to release the two, but they lodged a formal complaint through the French consulate in Yokohama, protesting both the dismissal itself and the amount of severance pay they had received. Thera followed a protracted legal battle, finally resolved in June 1874 when the government agreed to provide 48 them with traveling expenses. The two were treated generously, since their contract had specifically absolved the Japanese government of financial obligation in such a situation. Yet they obviously did not think so: in a curious aftermath that indicated their bitterness, they refused to leave Japan and advertised their services in a

Tokyo newspaper, where they petulantly denounced Tomioka as a second-rate, "Japanese-style" institution whose machinery was 49 inferior to what they could offer. 95

The three remaining French instructors, all of them

women, left with rather less fanfare in March 1874. Though

two of them left apparently because of illness, and the third because Brunat thought it inadvisable that she stay on alone,

their departure fully nine months before the expiration of

their contracts suggests that other factors were at work here. Indeed, when the Ministry of Home Affairs, which oversaw Tomioka at the time, reported that they were leaving, 50 it said that "their absence will present no difficulty."

This is significant; if the government is to be believed here— and there is no evidence indicating that it should not be— the process of transmitting Western techniques had gone much more quickly than either the Japanese or Brunat originally anticipated. Whatever problems the French presence had created, it certainly seems, in the end, to have paid off.

Yet if the French presence paid off, it was still not entirely to everyone's satisfaction, since by the summer of

1874 the government was seriously considering letting the two remaining French employees (Brunat and the doctor^go. A report by the Ministry of Home Affairs in July 1874 said that expenses were so high at Tomioka that the filature could not afford to bring in enough women to work, could not buy a sufficient quantity of cocoons and could not run its machinery at full capacity. Although, the report said,

Tomioka's purpose was not simply to make a profit, certain 96

restraints needed to be put into effect if the place were to be run properly. Brunat, it went on, agreed in principle that spending had to be reduced in certain areas, but balked whenever a specific proposal was presented to him; this, plus the observation that Japanese officials and workers at

Tomioka were sufficiently well-versed in their duties that they could get by without Brunat, led the Ministry to 52 recommend his dismissal, and that of the doctor. In the end, both Brunat and the doctor stayed at Tomioka through 53 1875, but only because stipulations in Brunat's contract would have made his dismissal as costly as keeping him on.^^

Still, the very fact that the government had come close to dismissing Brunat less than two years after Tomioka opened is significant in view of the enthusiasm with which it had initially approached the project; clearly, officials in

Tokyo had very quickly become impatient with the filature.

Their rather abrupt change in attitude was not due to any problems with what Tomioka had produced. This was the one area in which Tomioka was manifestly successful; the first raw silk from the filature sold extremely well in Lyons and

Milan, and won second prize at the 1873 International

Exhibition in Vienna.The issue was, as the Brunat episode suggests, one of finances. Quite simply, the government had expected Tomioka to turn a profit immediately, and, however unreasonably, showed considerable iritation when it did not. As early as the summer of 1873, official 97 patience with Tomioka's financial problems began to wear thin; in July, the government authorized emergency funding for the filature, already in debt, but at the same time Okuma

Shigenobu» then a high official in the Finance Ministry, was sent to Tomioka to talk with Brunat and others and make them reduce expenditures.^^ Whatever effect the funds and

Okuma's powers of persuasion had in the short run, they did nothing to stem the flow of red ink; Tomioka operated consistently at a loss through fiscal 1875, by which time it 57 registered a massive 220,000 yen dificit.

Tomioka Under Bureaucratic Management

Even before the figures for Tomioka's first three years were in, officials at the Ministry of Home Affairs realized that losses would be substantial and, alarmed at this prospect, sent Hayami Kenzo to the filature to find out what was wrong. Hayami, it will be recalled, had set up

Japan's first mechanized silk-reeling operation in 1870, and since then had won increasing renown for his expertise in the field. Appointed to the Ministry of Home Affairs in early

1875, he functioned in effect as the central government's trouble-shooter for the silk industry, and it was in this capacity that he went to Tomioka almost immediately after taking up his post. Hayami had opposed the Tomioka project from the start, and though the report he submitted was therefore predictably critical, it was also the first 98

sustained analysis of the operation since it had opened.

Hayami paid due regard to the magnificence of the buildings and the sophistication of the equipment, but said that none of this would have any effect as long as Tomioka was unable

to make a profit.

He then went on to list what he considered the major

reasons for the filature's chronic financial difficulties.

First, he said, the location was isolated and accessible only by poor roads, so that transporting raw materials and

finished products was costly and time-consuming. Second,

Tomioka's scale made it enormously difficult to keep the place functioning smoothly, and, because its machinery had all been imported, many things (parts, etc.) could only be gotten overseas, and at accordingly high prices. Third, production costs were extremely high because only the most expensive cocoons were bought, and even then much of each cocoon was wasted because of the stress on producing only thread of the finest quality. And fourth, trainees came and went with such frequency that there were few women at any one time who were sufficiently skilled, and productivity was correspondingly low.

Hayami reserved his sharpest criticism, however, for the public officials who ran Tomioka and who, in his estimation, were largely responsible for the above problems as well as for a host of others. They were, he said, concerned mostly with protecting their own bureaucratic 99 careers, and regarded Tomioka less as a model to enhance the national warfare than as a step to a higher position in officialdom. They performed tasks for which they had no competence— buying cocoons, for example, at excessively high prices because they did not know how to bargain, or because they considered bargaining beneath their dignity. They controlled Tomioka's trainees with such severity that the women became disillusioned and left, thereby failing to acquire the skills for which they came or, if they did acquire them, depriving the filature of trained personnel.

Finally, Hayami said, the officials were trapped by so much red tape and by bureaucratic duties that they could not run 58 the place efficiently even had they been so inclined.

The government undoubtedly got more than it bargained for here. It had expected Hayami to analyze Tomioka's finances; he did that, but in the process he also challenged the very notion that the state ought to run the place. This was an idea that, aside from the doubts Odaka had expressed, had never been in question from the start; even when Hayami had expressed his misgivings to Odaka and others in 1870, he had not questioned the merits of a state-run enterprise. The general assumption all along had been that a "model" operation, by nature, should be at least initiated by the government. Hayami did not explicitly dispute this in his report, and in fact tempered his criticism at the end by noting that because Tomioka was without precedent some of 100 the problems were unavoidable. But it would have been almost impossible for anyone to read his analysis and not see the gist of his criticism— that state ownership and management was a fundamental weak point in the way Tomioka operated.

Nevertheless, the government took no action in response to Hayami's critique— this despite the fact that less than a month later it received an equally disquieting report from a French merchant in Yokohama who had been instrumental in hiring Brunat. Hayami, in his report, had not really touched on Tomioka's effectiveness as a model (he would do that later), but the French observer when right to the heart of the matter; although, he noted, Tomioka's raw silk was the equal of what Europe could produce, "the standard (in terms of quality, scale and sophistication) set by the filature could not be duplicated by the average

Japanese producer for years to come."^^ One might reasonably suppose that the cumulative effect of the two reports would have been to force the Ministry of Home Affairs to adopt a consistent and clearly defined policy with regard to Tomioka, aimed, at the very least, at putting the filature on a sound financial footing. But this was not the case, as events in 1876 were to show. In that year, Tomioka managed to erase its debts and show a profit for the first time. It did so through shrewd speculation on the cocoon and raw silk markets by Odaka, who had assumed complete control when

Brunat left. But far from being gratified by Odaka's 101

efforts, the Ministry reprimanded him for conduct unbecoming

a public official, whereupon the exasperated Odaka resigned.

He had acted as he did, Odaka later recalled, because he

considered Tomioka a business enterprise, one where progress

and improvement could not be achieved without the pursuit of

profit, which in turn required close attention to the

purchase of raw material and the sale of the finished , ^ 60 product.

By rebuking him, the government clearly indicated

that it did not agree, but in the same year the Ministry of

Home Affairs stated that Tomioka's funcions were "to test

reeling machinery, make clear the advantages of careful production, promote improvements in the quality of raw silk,

and show the way to true profits.All noble sentiments

indeed; but the Ministry failed to explain how (or if)

Tomioka was to achieve them simultaneously, or what "true profit" (shinri) amounted to. In 1877, the Ministry set

Tomioka's annual appropriation at 200,000 yen,^^ but in the

absence of specific, or consistent, direction from the

government, the filature continued to run into trouble.

Odaka's successor, Yamada Yoshiyuki, introduced economizing

measures aimed at making Tomioka profitable once and for all; he was able to generate a profit of 100,000 yen in 1377, but

at a rather drastic cost in other ways. His exacting methods

alienated almost everyone employed at Tomioka; even Hayami

Kenzo complained that Yamada's parsimony was creating more 102 problems that it solved.Worse still, when Matsukata

Masayoshi, then head of the Ministry of Home Affairs'

Agricultural Promotion Bureau, attended the Paris Exhibition the following year, he was confronted with complaints that the quality of raw silk from Tomioka had deteriorated, and found to his chagrin that it was now rated far below European 64 thread.

Alarmed by this turn of events— for if Tomioka had been a financial headache, it had at least, until that point, been a source of prestige— Matsukata cabled Minister of Home

Affairs Its Hirobumi and advised him to take immediate steps to remedy the situation. Its thereupon approached Hayami about taking over as director. Hayami demurred at first, and said directly at this point what he had only implied before— 'that the government had no business running Tomioka.

Ito finally persuaded him by guaranteeing complete freedom of action, and in March 1879, Hayami replaced Yamada.

Typically, Hayami’s first step was to tell everyone at the filature that drastic changes were in the offing and that those who disagreed with him could leave immediately. He then proceeded to revise Tomioka's rules of operation, hire new instructors and set up a night school for the trainees.

But for all his bombast, Hayami was unable to affect any real change for the better. He did manage to improve the quality of the thread produced, but only marginally— and only by putting the place back in deficit, so that Hayami, of all 103 people, had to request a supplementary appropriation of fifty thousand yen; frustrated by the seemingly unavoidable choice between quality and profit, and convinced, as before, that

Tomioka should be sold, Hayami resigned in November 1880.^^

In only five years, then, Tomioka had gone through three directors— a rate of turnover not much better than for the filature's trainees. The departures of Odaka, Yamada and

Hayami were not the result of specific shifts in managerial policy on the part of the Home Affairs Ministry, but rather of the Ministry's continual failure to articulate precisely what it expected Tomioka to do, and how the filature was to do it. In the absence of such guidelines, Odaka and Yamada acted on their own, under the assumption that what the government wanted most was for the operation to show a stable record of profit. The measures they took are understandable; everything the government had said until then indicated that financial concerns were paramount. Yet the Ministry of Home Affairs did not agree with what they had done, and therefore Hayami Kenzo renewed the stress on production quality— only to put Tomioka back into debt again. By its very indecisiveness, the government produced the kind of managerial instability that made it almost impossible for Tomioka to accomplish any of its objectives.

But it should have been apparent by 1880 that, as Odaka had suggested in the very beginning, the objectives were not compatible. 104

Tomioka's lackluster performance enabled Hayami Kenzo

to succeed in at least one respect, however: he had finally

managed to convince Okuma and Matsukata to dispose of

Tomioka, and when the terms of disposal for government

factories were announced in November 1880, the filature was

among those up for sale. According to the announcement, the

factories had accomplished their original objectives and were all in healthy shape.In Tomioka's case the latter was not at all true, as an official report on the filature,

issued the following month, made glaringly apparent. The report, which indicated just how ineffectual even Hayami had been, was by far the most critical to date? it accused those in charge of careless management, of failure to institute any real reforms despite their obvious need, and of causing the work force to become "dispirited"; furthermore, it concluded that Tomioka's raw silk was no better than the best hand-reeled thread produced in nearby Maebashi.^^ Not surprisingly, the government found no takers for Tomioka, which it rather euphemistically attributed to the filature's 68 size. Certainly the size of, and therefore the price tag

for, Tomioka were formidable obstacles, but the filature's problems were no doubt known to anyone in a position to buy

it, and were enough to frighten them away.

This first attempt to divest itself of Tomioka having failed, the government was left with the problem of what to do next. In March 1881, Hayami Kenzo, who lacked nothing in 105 the way of hubris, offered the government a solution of sorts by suggesting that it lease the filature to him for five years. The Ministry of Home Affairs submitted Hayami's request, along with a provisional contract it had drawn up, and a financial statement on the filature, put together by the wily Hayami to remind the government— as if it were 69 necessary— of Tomioka's financial woes. Nothing came of this, and when the Ministry of Agriculture and Commerce, which had assumed control of Tomioka in the middle of 1881, formally requested that the government continue its annual appropriation for the filature, it was told that Tomioka had already fulfilled its purpose and that, if no one wanted to buy the place, it should be shut down rather than be allowed 70 to continue running up losses. Unwilling to abandon

Tomioka altogether, the Ministry requested in December that the Council of State reconsider Hayami's proposal. This time, it attached a far stricter provisional contract with

Hayami, holding him responsible for any losses incurred by the filature under his management and providing for regular inspection of the filature and its accounts.

In May 1382, the government finally decided against leasing to Hayami. In fact, it seems never to have taken the proposal very seriously, since in announcing its decision the government referred to it only in passing, and rejected it mainly on the grounds that the terms of the proposal, particularly the provision for annual appropriations, would 106

amount to a precedent for public assistance with which it did

not wish to be saddled. The thrust of the decision concerns

future policy with regard to Tomioka: the government opted

for maintaining the status quo, particularly since the

filature's financial position (profits in fiscal 1880;

anticipated profits in fiscal 1881) was better than it had

been for some time; and it declared that the decision to try

to sell Tomioka in 1880 had been premature— implying that it

considered disposing of Tomioka less a problem of scale or 72 price than simply a matter of time.

With this, Tomioka's fate was settled, at least for

the time being. But the government had chosen the easiest

solution by deciding to do nothing to change the situation and, that being the case, the filature continued to be plagued by the problems it had had before, and some new ones besides. As predicted, Tomioka made profits in 1881, but the next three years saw substantial losses. One reason for this 73 was a world-wide decline in silk prices , but it was also

due to Tomioka's heretofore heavy dependence on sales to

France: demand, and prices, on the Lyons market fell steeply

throughout the early 1880's, thus greatly reducing receipts.

The filature was able to extricate itself, more or less, from

the situation by beginning exports to the burgeoning American market, which from 1882 consumed a steadily higher portion of 74 its wares. 107

But Other factors behind Tomioka's difficulties were less susceptible to easy solution. The filature's scale continued to be a problem on several counts. By the mid-1880's maintenance and repair costs were mounting rapidly— a trend aggravated by the sheer amount of equipment and by its European origin^^; and because Tomioka required such a large supply of cocoons, it had to rely heavily on shipments from throughout the country rather than on what was produced in the immediate area, so that it was impossible to produce thread of uniform weight, thickness and sheen.

In addition, the location remained as inaccessible as before, and transportation costs made the price of cocoons and other necessities higher in the Tomioka area than almost anywhere 77 else in Japan. Officials in Tokyo, who by this point no doubt regretted the decision not to lease to Hayami, had no sympathy for Tomioka and its problems. In 1884, Minister of

Agriculture and Commerce Saigô Tsugumichi asked for an emergency appropriation for Tomioka, citing a steady decline in raw silk prices as the reason for its huge deficit, which then was equivalent to half the value of its fixed 78 assets. The government refused the request, and ordered

Tomioka to retrench. Saigô tried his luck again the following year, this time with a request for a tax reduction for the filature to cover expenses associated with the renovation of the former French residences; this too was rejected.• ^ ^ 79 108

The government was obviously wearying of Tomioka and its woes, and was becoming less and less inclined to improve the situation. Yet at the same time, since 1881, no one seems seriously to have considered selling or abandoning the operation. The bruising experience of the 1880 disposal attempt precluded the former, at least for a while; and the government's perception of Tomioka's utility as a source of 80 prestige rendered the latter unattractive. The government therefore retained the place, but kept it at arm's length; surprisingly, Tomioka managed to do rather well in this situation. Hayami Kenzo was persuaded back to the filature in early 1885. His second tenure as director was considerably more successful than the first had been; from

1885 until its disposal in 1893, Tomioka consistently showed a profit, however modest, despite the persistence of conditions that had led to trouble in previous years— high transportation costs, a shortage of good cocoons, fluctuating raw silk prices, and the like. Hayami was able to effect a financial turnaround only by taking steps, some of them rather draconian, which substantially altered the way Tomioka operated. The government had ordered that costs be cut, and

Hayami did this with a vengeance. Operating costs were reduced by more than half in 1886, yet in the same year 81 production rose by over seventeen thousand pounds.

Hayami accomplished this impressive feat by slashing workers' wages in half, lengthening the work day (by as much as two 109 hours per day during some months) and, as of 1887, reducing 82 the number of workers employed. The stress in these years was clearly increasing output and reducing costs as much as possible; for most of the time, Hayami achieved both.

The change was significant, but probably least of all because it made Tomioka profitable at last. Reduced wages, extended hours, a stress on quantity over quality— none of these is the stuff of a "model" operation designed to train instructors. They smack of a commercial enterprise, which is essentially what Tomioka had become. But it is unlikely that

Hayami, or anyone else for that matter, was ever disturbed by an inability to reconcile what was being done with what was originally intended. The fact that the government, or parts thereof, consistently demanded that Tomioka yield a profit meant that the impetus to run it as a factory, pure and simple, rather than as a model training center was always there, even if in latent form; and it became stronger as time went by. In this sense, Hayami simply completed a process that began well before 1885. Tomioka's role as a model was dubious from the start, and although officials, both at the filature and in Tokyo, never explicitly disavowed this notion, it assumed less and less importance as time went by.

Even the petition which the Ministry of Agriculture and

Commerce presented to the government in 1881 in support of

Tomioka's continued existence disregards the idea, dwelling instead on Tomioka's value as a source of prestige. 110 particularly on the European market. Nor does it mention

Tomioka as a source of trained personnel— and for good

reason, since by the 1880's it was of very little

significance in that regard.

In any case, the changes put into effect by Hayami made Tomioka infinitely more salable than it had been in

1880; and the government had never abandoned this idea. Nor had Hayami, and by 1890 both he and officials in Tokyo decided that the time had come to dispose of the filature.

The relatively healthy state of Tomioka's finances was certainly a factor here, since it made it much more likely that a suitable buyer, one capable of maintaining the place, could be found. But the main reason appears to have been political. Hayami, predictably enough, initiated the process by sending the Ministry of Agriculture and Commerce a furious letter of protest against new regulations instituted in accordance with new budgetary procedures necessitated by the opening of the Diet. Complaining that "these rules . . . take so much time and trouble that they have become, in

effect, my job, and I have no time to do what I ought to be doing," and warning that the progress he achieved at Tomioka could be nullified overnight by the new situation, Hayami asked to be relieved of his post, and recommended that 83 Tomioka be sold as soon as possible. The Minister

ignored Hayami's request to be relieved; but the opening of the Diet and its assumption of budgetary powers posed Ill

problems, quite apart from those Hayami presented, which

could not be ignored. Tomioka would henceforth be subject to public budgetary scrutiny on an annual basis— something which could, it was thought, vastly complicate matters. With this the cabinet, after first considering and rejecting a proposal to attach Tomioka to the imperial household as a way to avoid parliamentary interference, decided to put the filature up 84 for sale once again.

The cabinet also specified that Tomioka be sold at public auction, despite vigorous opposition from Hayami on the grounds that the filature might thereby fall into the hands of someone unable to manage it properly or— even worse— a foreigner using a Japanese as proxy. In June 1891, two silk producers from Nagano prefecture submitted bids, but because neither bid met the minimum set by the government 85 Tomioka remained unsold. In May 1893, the government announced that it would again accept bids, and in September received them from five interested parties, including Mitsui

Bank. The government had set an undisclosed minimum price of

105,000 yen this time; only Mitsui's bid, of 121,450 yen, 86 exceeded this, and thus Tomioka went into its hands.

Mitsui took over Tomioka in October 1393, and the last of the public officials assigned there left in February of the 87 following year. Tomioka's era as a model state enterprise had ended. 112

The sale to Mitsui was a felicitous arrangement for

both sides. Since two-thirds of the amount paid went to

cover the cost of cocoons stored at Tomioka, Mitsui was able

to purchase the filature itself for forty thousand yen— a

very good price indeed for a place that was operating at a

profit and that was still, in terms of prestige, a very 88 desireable property. On the surface, the government

appears to have taken a beating here, since it had originally 39 invested over 200,000 yen just to open Tomioka. But in

fact it did quite well for itself. Tomioka was, after all,

in its twenty-first year; the machinery was old, and would

soon have to be replaced. Mitsui, more so than the other

bidders, had the wherewithal to carry out a renovation; it

also had experience, since it already owned one successful

silk-reeling operation, Qshima Filature. Both Hayami and the

Ministry of Agriculture and Commerce had stressed the

importance of turning over Tomioka to someone with the

resources and the acumen to keep it going, and they got this 90 in Mitsui. Moreover, Mitsui's price was by far the best

the government could have gotten at this point, since it was

twenty per cent higher than the nearest bid, and fully ten

times more than what had been bid in 1890. And finally, in

the end, the government actually made a profit on Tomioka: by 1890, the filature had repaid all prior debts, and

Mitsui's payment enabled it to cover establishment costs, and

provide the government with a modest thirteen thousand yen 113 surplus.1 91

Tomioka Filature; An Assessment

The Ministry of Agriculture and Commerce's last financial report on Tomioka, drawn up in late 1893, took proud note of the filature's ultimately solvent position, and concluded that "... directly and indirectly (Tomioka) has 92 been an asset to our nation." There is more than a touch of myopia here, although under the circumstances the Ministry could hardly have evaluated Tomioka otherwise. As should be apparent from the foregoing discussion, this laudatory assessment was not shared by most of those concerned with the filature during its two decades of public management. Once it opened, Tomioka's purpose and utility were the objects of almost constant debate. Indeed, the controversy continues even now, one school of thought seeing Tomioka as a crucial element in the development of Japan's silk-reeling industry, another dismissing it as of no substantial importance.

That the contemporary debate is curiously reminiscent of the controversy that surrounded Tomioka while it was in government hands is due, in large measure, to the fact that the criteria on which Tomioka has been evaluated have never been defined with much precision. As a result, the evaluations tend to be vague and subject to misinterpretation. To say, for example, that Tomioka failed, or succeeded, as a model does not mean much unless one 114 considers what kind of model it was intended to be, what kind it could reasonably have been expected to be, and what kind it actually was. Similarly, to call it a technical success or failure requires that one consider how it succeeded or failed, but most observers of the filature have not done this.

The lack of precision is apparent from the start. In the announcement which it issued in June 187 2, the government said that Tomioka's purpose was to train instructors and to serve as a technical model, using modern machinery to produce the finest raw silk, and inspiring others to do so.

Privately— for example, in its contract with Brunat— the government also expected it to operate at a profit. Odaka was the first to suggest that Tomioka might not be able to do all of these at once, that it might be more than the place could handle. He was right, but he was ignored, because to deal with the issue at that point would have required defining Tomioka's purpose in more explicit terms than the government was then willing to accept. As a result, there was no lack of agreement that Tomioka ought to be a means through which the mechanization of the silk-reeling industry was accelerated, but there was confusion as to how this should be done, or even how important it was. The issue came to a head in 1378 in a conversation between Ito and Hayami prior to the letter's first appointment as Tomioka's director. Ito ventured the idea that, because Tomioka had the burden of instructing people in new methods, operational 115

losses were inevitable; its role, he suggested, was to teach

people how to produce, not how to manage. Hayami responded

with the assertion that Tomioka would be of virtually no

beneficial influence on the industry if it were run that way

because "what people look for in a model factory are its 94 profits and losses." Hayami predicted that he could

train people, produce thread of high quality and make a profit, but his years as director of Tomioka belied this, and his second term showed that the only way to make profits was at the expense of Tomioka's educational functions.

Hayami's point, at any rate, was a legitimate one:

Tomioka might be a showcase of new technology, but that would matter little if it lost money, since producers would simply assume that technological innovation entailed operating at a deficit; thus his insistence that Tomioka yield profits. The government also wanted it to be profitable, but not out of consideration for any theoretical niceties; it simply needed the money. This insistence on profits is the one consistent note in the otherwise labile official policy toward the

filature. It explains the government's rejection of Odaka's alternative management proposals in 187 2, its decision to try

to sell Tomioka in 1880 and then— when the financial picture brightened— to keep it, and its insistence on cutbacks in the

1380's which undermined the filature's ability to pursue its other functions. Finances took priority in the scheme of things, at the expense of Tomioka's role as a center for 116

technical training and for the dissemination of new

technology. This was particularly true of the 1880's, when

Finance Minister Matsukata Masayoshi abandoned the rather

free-wheeling fiscal approach of the previous decade for a

policy of severe budgetary restraint. But even before then,

official correspondence reveals almost no concern for these

matters, but plenty of concern for the balance sheet. When,

therefore, the Ministry of Agriculture and Commerce

pronounced Tomioka an asset in 1893, it did so only after

noting, in the previous sentence, that Tomioka finished up 95 with a net surplus. The order here is not fortuitous.

But though the government placed an overriding priority on the pursuit of profit, it did not explicitly

disavow Tomioks's other functions. Nor could it have, given

the filature's ostentatious beginning, and given its apparent

value as a source of prestige overseas. As long as it was

under public management, therefore, Tomioka was open for

inspection to anyone interested in improving his own

silk-reeling operation, and young women trooped to the place

to learn how to reel silk thread on sophisticated machinery,

after which they would, in theory, return home to teach

others the skills they had mastered. That things were not

quite turning out this way was implied by Hayami in his 1875

report, and stated clearly in the French merchant's report of

the same year. The government's preference for profit, and

its tolerance for the ill effects this had on Tomioka's 117 ability to instruct, was to some degree an attempt to salvage what it could out of the project. There were some, including

Shibusawa Eiichi, who clung to the myth that Tomioka's purpose was primarily educational, and that profits were 96 consequently of secondary concern ; but these were not the people who made the decisions. Those who did thought otherwise. They never renounced Tomioka's educational role, but they also did nothing much to further it, or to correct circumstances that made pursuance of this role difficult.

Tomioka operated, then, under serious external constraints, and this must be borne in mind when evaluating its performance as a training center and as a technical model.

As originally conceived, Tomioka was supposed to train young women recruited from throughout Japan in the skills required for mechanized reeling, so that they might diffuse these skills to others. This is what Brunat proposed, and the government agreed to it. It is impossible to know exactly how many women actually received training at

Tomioka between 1872 and 1893. The records of the filature indicate the size of the work force for most of these years, but the figures are often at variance with those available in prefectural and other documents; more importantly, the annual figures do not show how many employees were new. These problems are not insurmountable, fortunately; the degree of variance is small enough to be statistically insignificant. 118 and information from other documents makes it possible to arrive at a rough approximation of the number of new employees each year. On this basis, it seems safe to say that over five thousand women spent some time at Tomioka 97 before it was sold to Mitsui. Since as of 1884 there were about 1,100 mechanized filatures in the entire 98 country , it would seem logical to assume that the women from Tomioka played an important role in many of these places; that, at least, was what was supposed to have happened. But it was not the case, for several reasons.

Tomioka began operations with a work force of women who were almost all from samurai families. This was not, as we have seen, intended; nor was it intended to continue, but it did. Again, Tomioka's records are not a reliable source for this, since they do not always indicate a trainee's background; but prefectural documents related to the dispatch of women to the filature generally mention that they were shizoku destined to work in silk-reeling operations set up 99 by, and for, bushi in their area. The predominance of these women at Tomioka was not without its political benefit, since it meant that they could learn a skill with which to help their families get through the difficult post-Restoration years. But it also meant that Tomioka was burdened with trainees who had little or no experience, who consequently took longer to train than the kind of trainees originally envisioned, and who therefore compounded the 119

filature's financial probelems. Furthermore, the fact that

many of these women, upon completion of training, simply

returned home to work in filatures (most of which ultimately

collapsed) run by other shi zoku makes it highly unlikely that

their role as diffusers of new techniques was at all

extensive. There is little to indicate that diffusion here

went beyond the confines of their own place of work.

Partly as a result of this dependence on samurai

women, Tomioka was never able to achieve the kind of broad

geographical representation among its trainees that was

expected at first. This in itself was not a problem; it

would have been more prudent, in fact, to recruit women mostly from those relatively few areas which either had a

well-developed tradition of silk reeling or were mechanizing

rapidly. Indeed, Tomioka as a site made sense only to the

extent that this was done* since most such areas were not far

from Gunma. But it was not done. Between 1873 and 1884, the period for which information on geographical background is

available^^^, women from Gunma accounted for the highest

number of trainees, fully twenty per cent. But more than half were in and out of Tomioka by 1876, after which Gunma's

proportion fell drastically. Even more importantly, they

appear to have had virtually no influence in their prefecture. Gunma's silk producers hardly mechanized at all until very late; the women were at Tomioka, it seems, simply because the filature was nearby. Shiga prefecture had the 120 second highest representation, seventeen per cent. But again, the trainees were of no apparent influence: an 1879 report on silk reeling there noted that women back from training at Tomioka could not find suitable employment; and as late as 1883, a Shiga delegate to a national silk producers' conference aptly described the industry in that area as "still in its infancy.Women from Nagano accounted for ten per cent of the total, but most of them left Tomioka well before producers in the area began to establish mechanized filatures to any significant degree.

Saitama also contributed a substantial number of trainees, most during the first three years of Tomioka's existence; yet as of 1879, thread from that prefecture was judged among the 102 worst in Japan, and there was little mechanization.

These examples reflect a general trend: either women returned from Tomioka long before anything in the way of mechanization was done in their area or— and this was more common— they came from areas which never had, and never would have, much of a silk-reeling industry. The latter was particularly true during the 1880's, when most of the women at Tomioka were from Shiga, Aichi, Niigata, Oita, and other areas that were, and continued to be, of no importance in terms of raw silk production. Thus geographical representation at Tomioka was not only limited, it was increasingly limited to areas irrelevant to the filature's avowed purpose. As time went by, Tomioka served, in effect. 121

less to train potential instructors than to be a repository

for the daughters of unemployed samurai.

Another factor mitigating against Tomioka's effectiveness as a training center was the length of time women actually underwent training. There were two contrasting trends here, neither of them salutory. Brunat had recommended that the women receive at least two years of training, and the government had prescribed one to three years. But in the 1370's few women stayed for as long as three years, and most stayed for a much shorter period.

Precise statistics are available only for Saitama and Nagano prefectures, most of whose trainees went to Tomioka before

1880, but the trend they indicate is revealing. In both cases, one-third of the women worked at Tomioka for six months or less, over half for less than a year. Only ten per cent of those from Nagano, and seven per cent of those from

Saitama, remained for three years or longer.Obviously, most women did not stay at Tomioka long enough to acquire the skills they were sent to master; this is expecially apparent when one considers that most of them had never done this kind of work before, and that they were expected to learn not only silk reeling but all other aspects of thread production

(cocoon culling, rereeling, thread binding, etc.) as 104 well. Many of the women left Tomioka without becoming vary skilled at anything; they certainly were not qualified as instructors. 122

In late 1375, the government changed its policy with regard to training at Tomioka by requiring that women stay for at least three years, and up to five.^^^ Ostensibly aimed at correcting the aforementioned situation, the new policy was actually part of Tomioka's attempt to economize; it could never hope to cut costs without a stable» reasonably well-trained work force. The measure had no appreciable effect at first; women continued to come and go at about the same rate as before. But by the next decade, women began to stay longer— far longer, in fact, than could conceivably have been necessary for them to acquire the requisite skills. The trend reflects the fact that, largely in the interests of economy, Tomioka had become less a training center than a factory whose aim was to operate at a profit. Thus hours were lengthened, something Brunat had specifically opposed on the grounds that it would render training less effective; women were recruited from areas which were of no significance to the silk-reeling industry, but which contained large numbers of bushi who welcomed the opportunity to have their daughters employed; and the filature began hiring, on a significant scale, local women who either commuted daily or worked on a day-to-day basis.This last trend is especially indicative of how Tomioka had changed: it made no sense to hire local women on any basis, since by the 1880's it was clear that Gunma's silk producers were not mechanizing their operations and doing rather well at that— unless, of 123 course, the women were being hired simply to work rather than to train.

In any case, the significance of Tomioka's ability, or lack thereof, to turn out competent instructors depended largely on the degree to which it fulfilled its other function— i.e., serving as a model for other mechanized silk- reeling operations. Such training as the women received would have been of no real value had they not been able to apply what they had learned in a work situation reasonably close to what which they had experienced at Tomioka. Yet here, too, the results were not at all up to original expectations. Tomioka's very scale and sophistication meant that it was impossible to duplicate what was done there, or even to follow it very closely. The government had invested

200,000 yen just to build and equip Tomioka; no private producer could spend that kind of money. In Gunma itself,

Tomioka evoked virtually no response at all. The filature that most resembled what the government had done was Rokkusha in Nagano. It was opened in 1874 by a group of bushi who had invested, on a per reeling unit basis, less than one-tenth of what had been put into Tomioka, and with one-fifth the work force.Construction of the filature was supervised by a man who had gone to Tomioka and studied its technology, and instructors were local women, some of them daughters of

Rokkusha's founders, who had spent over a year at Tomioka. 124

The filature adopted Tomioka's reeling method and

attempted as much as possible to follow its technology in

other areas. But in the absence of capital, the founders

were forced to improvise, to substitute simpler materials and

technology, and to rely on a water wheel rather than steam as

their source of power. Brunat visited the place shortly

after it opened and, upon seeing the equipment used in the boiler room, fled in terror lest he find himself in the 108 explosion that to him seemed imminent. One of the

instructors recalled later that her associates complained about Rokkusha's bad cocoons and primitive machines, and she herself observed that "(Rokkusha) was as different from

Tomioka as earth is from heaven. What had been copper, iron and brass was now wood; glass was wire; and brick was mud.

The women were correct; compared with Tomioka,

Rokkusha was primitive. But compared with other places based on Tomioka, it was a veritable replication of the original.

Since anyone interested in setting up a mechanized silk-reeling operation was free to visit Tomioka, many did, especially in the 1870's . I n all cases, it was apparent that Tomioka could not be duplicated; most people therefore visited other, less sophisticated operations as well, and based their own places on a mixture of what they had seen.^^^ Others who "imitated" Tomioka never even saw it, 112 but based what they did largely on hearsay. For most. 125 imitating Tomioka usually meant adopting its method of connecting cocoon strands into a line of thread, and using steam to heat the basins in which the cocoons were boiled.

The resemblance usually ended there. Most were extremely small, some with as few as six workers; none used steam for power, relying instead on water wheels or human labor to turn the thread frames. Many closed within a year or two. In some cases, people who had visited Tomioka returned home and, lacking either the means or the incentive (or both) to do otherwise, began hand reeling.

Mechanization in the silk-reeling industry was most rapid in Nagano prefecture. Nagano is adjacent to Gunma and, as we have seen, many women from the prefecture went to

Tomioka; the government's filature ought therefore to have had considerable effect in the area. To some extent it did; in the 1870's at least sixty-nine filatures were established which were based, in one way or another, on Tomioka's technology, or which adopted the technology some time after they opened. Some of them also hired instructors who had worked at Tomioka. But like Tomioka spinoffs elsewhere, they were largely, as Hayami Kenzo remarked after going through the area in 1877, imitations in name only.^^^ Over half of them had no more than twenty employees ; only seven had more than forty. And they were not, on the whole, notably successful; a prefectural survey taken in December 1883 showed that thirty-two of them had closed in the interim, ten 126 had been forced to retrench, and only thirteen had been successful enough to expand beyond their humble 115 beginnings.

The high rate of failure was not a phenomenon unique to Nagano? at least through the 1370's it was common of the industry as a whole. Mechanized operations were particularly susceptible to collapse? those based on Tomioka were even more so, because no matter how simplified they were, they required a greater capital outlay for establishment and maintenance than hand-reeling operations, or even other mechanized places. Unlike Tomioka, none of them had the benefit of an annual appropriation from the central government to tide them over during the crucial period when cocoons had to be purchased, but when receipts from the sale of their thread were often late in coming. That so many filatures modeled after Tomioka failed is not, then, surprising. But it meant that Tomioka's effectiveness as a model for the silk-reeling industry was, at best, limited, because imitation means nothing in practical terms if it ends in failure.

Tomioka was established to train women as instructors, to serve as a standard upon which mechanized silk reeling was to be based, and to deliver a profit to the public treasury. In retrospect, it is clear that it could not do all of these at the same time. Ironically, Tomioka received the most intense official scrutiny and criticism 127 with regard to its ability to operate profitably; in the end, this was the one area in which it clearly performed as expected. The filature's ability to serve as a source of new technology was severely circumscribed, as we have seen, by

its size and sophistication, and by the way it was run. But this is precisely what a model factory is normally expected to do, and in this context it is necessary to consider whether Tomioka was of any significance at all to Japan's silk-reeling industry; whether it was largely a failure, or whether it actually accomplished anything.

Writing on Tomioka in 1909, Shibusawa Eiichi observed that most people decided they could never hope to imitate what the government had done very closely, if for no other reason than that they had none of the financial security which Tomioka, as a public enterprise, enjoyed. But,

Shibusawa said, Tomioka served as an impetus to silk producers, encouraging them to set up filatures which, though nothing on the order of the original;, were at least mechanized.In ths limited, rather cautious appraisal of Tomioka's significance, Shibusawa was correct. Tomioka's

economic travails are now a matter of public record, but they were not in the late nineteenth century. Few silk producers knew of the difficulties the operation had; to most, it was

Japan's silk-reeling factory par excellance. That Tomioka's position in the public eye was therefore mostly symbolic, and based more on myth than on fact, is not of much consequence 128 here; myths and symbols often have considerable power of their own, and they did in this case. Thus we find producer after producer going to Tomioka to find out what its technology was about, or sending his daughter there to learn how to reel silk thread by machine, or hiring instructors specifically because they had trained there. The silk-reeling industry was not substantially affected as a consequence of such activity. No place based on Tomioka ever actually matched it in terms of scale; few did so in the quality of their output. The results of these endeavors were often pitiful, bearing little or no resemblance to the original and hardly worthy to be called mechanized; many of them collapsed shortly after they opened, and many produced raw silk no better than what was being reeled elsewhere by hand. But others did manage to stay afloat, and the owners of those filatures gradually expanded and improved their operations so that they were, in time, closer to Tomioka in their degree of sophistication than they had been at first.

That these producers succeeded was due very little to any direct influence from Tomioka; but that they decided to mechanize at all, at a time when the success of the effort was by no means assured, can be accounted for, in many cases, by the fact that Tomioka existed, and offered them something toward which they might strive. 129

Maebashi Filature

Tomioka was not the only publicly-built,

publicly-managed filature from which producers could acquire

new techniques, and to which they could send people to be

trained. Nor was it the first. Even before the Restoration,

Maebashi han had been unusually energetic in its attempts to

foster the silk industry. With a greater proportion of its

bushi population involved is some aspect of the industry than

probably any other han, Maebashi had a considerable political

stake here; particularly after the fall of the Tokugawa

Bakufu and the end of such restrictions on its economic

activities as still existed, it wasted no time ensuring an

export market for the thread produced by its citizens.

Shortly after the Restoration, the Maebashi government sent

its leading authority on the silk industry, Hayami Kenzo,_ to

Yokohama to oversee sales of Maebashi thread to Western

merchants. For this purpose, Hayami set up the han's own

retail operation, Shikishimaya, in Yokohama in March 1369;

Maebashi was the only han to do this and, lest it be

criticized for excessive attention to matters economical, the han government arranged for it to operated ostensibly as the

private business of local silk merchantsBut the

energetic Hayami was clearly in charge here and, in addition

to his other duties, he made it his business to familiarize himself with the Western merchant community, and to find out 130

just what they were after in the way of raw silk. He

discovered, among other things, that raw silk from Japan sold

for half the price of French and Italian thread on the

European market, and that, according to the Swiss consul, the

problem was not so much one of inferior raw materials, as was 113 popularly believed, but of poor reeling methods. Hayami

thereupon made arrangements to set up a Western-style reeling

operation in Maebashi as the first step in solving the

problem. Through the Swiss consul, he was introduced to one

Caspar Mueller, a Swiss citizen then living in Kobe who had worked for over a decade in Italy's silk-reeling industry.

With han blessings and Foreign Ministry approval, Mueller was given a contract commencing June 21, 1870 to help Maebashi

establish the nation's first mechanized filature, based on 119 Italian reeling techniques.

Maebushi's filature was a far more modest undertaking than Tomioka would be in every respect. At Hayami's

insistence, all machinery for the operation was made locally,

and mostly of wood rather than metal; little time or money was spent on construction because only three reeling units,

each of which could handle two reelers, were built. Mueller was the only Westerner hired; his contract was for just four months, his salary a relatively low three hundred Mexican dollars. He cannot have played much of an advisory role in planning the venture since it opened the same month his contract was signed; even thereafter his role was limited. 131 because Hayami was in full control. The location for the

filature was no imposing edifice like Tomioka; the three reeling units were simply installed on the grounds of a

Maebashi city residence, and a man was hired to turn the interconnected frames. The operation was so small at this point that a more sophisticated method of power generation 120 was not warranted.

All of this is a far cry from Tomioka's grandeur.

When it opened in June 187L, Maebashi Filature was, in terms of mechanization, not much more sophisticated than the innovative operations at the end of the Tokugawa era, and it was certainly smaller than they were. But its technology was new, and because it was of Italian origin, Maebashi offered a genuine alternative to the French technology that Tomioka introduced. Both were more complicated than zaguri reeling, and both could, if done properly, result in better raw silk.

But there the similarity ended. At Tomioka, thread was first reeled onto small frames, then rereeled a day or two later onto larger ones; at Maebashi, it was reeled once, onto large frames. Tomioka used steam to boil water for the cocoons;

Maebashi relied on kindling fires for this. To remove excess water and to bind cocoon strands into one line of thread, Tomioka used a complex process, the tomoyori method, in which two lines of thread were twisted together, then separated and reeled onto frames; Maebashi‘s kenneru method involved only one line of thread, wound over two small wheels 132

for the same effect. Finally, whereas at Tomioka each worker had to reel thread and boil cocoons, at Maebashi the latter task was done separately by a woman who then supplied the 121 cocoons to two reelers.

Because Maebashi was so small, it had none of

Tomioka's difficulty finding workers at first, but in other ways it ran into even more problems. The original site for the operation very quickly proved unsuitable for silk reeling, but plans to move it were stymied by widespread opposition to the presence of a Westerner, by threats on

Mueller's life, and by the hostility of local silk producers and merchants, who feared the effect an alternative reeling method might have on their already lucrative businesses.

Hayami finally managed to find an obscure location in the countryside, and the filature opened there in September 122 1870. Mueller left when his contract expired in

October, and was immediately hired by the House of Ono to help it build a place similar to the Maebashi operation in

Tokyo. Hayami added nine more reeling units in March 1871, and in June he was given twenty imported units from an

Italian instructor at what was to become the University of Tokyo.^23

Despite its negligible establishment costs and the generous donation of equipment, the filature, like Tomioka, operated at a loss from the time it opened. True to his philosophy, Hayami therefore advised the Gunma prefectural 133 government, which had taken over the place upon the abolition

of Maebashi han, to close it down. The government demurred,

and instead leased it to the House of Ono in July 1872; .

Hayami remained as director until Ono bought the filature a 124 year later. When the House of Ono collapsed in late

1874, the operation was on the verge of being shut down; but

Okubo Toshimichi, the Minister of Civil Affairs, advised the government against closing it, and suggested that it be put 125 under Tomioka's aegis until a buyer could be found. In the end, the filature went under the direction of the

Ministry of Civil Affairs until June 1875, when it was sold to a wealthy Gunma merchant who had been the government's cocoon procurer for both Maebashi and Tomioka.

Maebashi's history as a model filature where people could train or learn of new technology lasted less than three years. Like Tomioka, its financial problems no doubt stemmed partly from the fact that it was trying to teach as well as to produce, and could not do both efficiently. But that an operation based on entirely new technology stayed open at all after only four months of outside help was remarkable; and in view of the scale of the operation, its relatively low profile, and the meager resources at his disposal, Hayami did rather well at propogating Maebashi's Italian technology. He received a steady stream of visitors, many of whom he apparently tutored himself. Most of them came from nearby prefectures, but among those who visited in early 1871 was a 134

man from Kyûshü— an indication of how quickly the filature

had become known. Producers also sent women to Maebashi for

training, and some of these women later worked elsewhere as

instructors; but nothing on the order of Tomioka was carried out.127

In terms of the number of filatures, successful and

unsuccessful, whose establishment it gave direct rise to,

Maebashi had far less impact on Japan's, silk-reeling industry

than did Tomioka. But numbers are of questionable relevance here, and at any rate Maebashi's significance lies

elsewhere. It was the first Western-style filature in Japan

and, in striking contrast to Tomioka, it was the first attempt to introduce Western reeling techniques as much as

possible within an exclusively Japanese context. Hence

Hayami's insistence that the reeling units be built in Japan with native materials, and that Mueller be hired only for a

very brief period; this was a practical recognition that, if

the venture were to succeed, to have any influence at all on

the industry, it would have to be something that others could

follow with reasonable exactitude. Maebashi's machinery

probably did not correspond, as Tomioka's did, exactly to the

European original, but this was a point in its favor: everything was made in Japan, at no great cost, and was for that very reason more readily adoptable. It required much less capital to base an operation on Maebashi's Italian technology than on what Tomioka offered— even when, as 135

frequently happened, the latter was very loosely copied.

This was a crucial factor because, especially until the

1880's, there were no established financing mechanisms for the silk-reeling industry. Producers were therefore left to their own resources— which were not much— and were at the mercy of an international market on which raw silk prices declined, sometimes precipitously, through most of the

1870's. The only area where Maebashi's methods demanded a greater expenditure than did Tomioka's was wages, since a separate work force was needed to handle the cocoons. But wages were so low throughout the Meiji era that the additional expenditure was not significant, and in any case was usually offset by greater productivity than was possible with Tomioka's techniques; the women handling the thread did not have to boil the cocoons as well, and could therefore reel that much more quickly.

If copied faithfully, Tomioka's methods were unquestionably superior— a fact which some producers, at 128 least, recognized very quickly. But producers never followed the model exactly, adopting instead one or two aspects of the process used at Tomioka and dubbing the result

"Tomioka style." The quality of their thread was nowhere near that of the original. Those who adopted Maebashi's methods, on the other hand, were able to do so much more precisely, and were able to produce thread of equal, or near-equal, quality. Moreover, to follow Tomioka one needed 136 not only a greater capital investment to begin with, but a more skilled group of workers as well. Its tomoyori method of water removal, for example, required that the worker reel two lines of thread with almost exactly the same degree of fineness; only a highly-trained worker was capable of this, so that in many cases the results were rather haphazard.

Maebashi's kenneru method was simpler, demanded less skill, and made it possible to reel relatively heavy thread; this last-named feature was a particularly important consideration because thread was sold by weight. The difference in this regard was characteristic of the differences between the two 129 entire processes. Tomioka's process was, on the whole, better; but it demanded a great deal of money and skill— neither of which were in great supply in the early

Meiji years. Under the circumstances, many thread producers devised a mixture of the two processes, adopting what they could of Tomioka and turning to Maebashi for the rest.

The Ministry of Industy Filature

The advantages, especially in the short run, of

Maebashi's Italian style did not go unnoticed by the central government. In January 1973, the Ministry of Industry opened an Italian-style filature within the confines of its Office for the Promotion of Industry (Kankoryo) in the Akasaka area of Tokyo. Caspar Mueller, who since leaving Maebashi had busied himself helping others set up operations based on 137

Italian technology, served as director of the filature until

February 1374. The place opened with forty-eight reeling units, and doubled its capacity almost immediately thereafter; a water wheel was used to turn the frames.

Women, most apparently of samurai background, were sent there

to train from, among other areas, Nagano, Yamanashi, Niigata and Kagoshima. Like Tomioka and Maebashi, the filature could not make ends meet, but in this case the government wasted no

time divesting itself of a losing proposition: in November

1874, it leased the place to two merchants for a year.

Thereafter it was leased to a succession of people, each of whom was no more successful than the others in running the place at a profit; in 1879, the Ministry of Home Affairs took possession of the equipment, which thereafter lay unused.

This venture in model-building by the Ministry of 131 Industry of Industry remains shrouded in obscurity.

When it opened, the filature was accorded none of the fanfare that Tomioka received; nor did it get any thereafter. It is not even clear why the Ministry, whose main concern was heavy 132 industry , established it in the first place, especially since examples of the Italian reeling process were available at the time at Maebashi and elsewhere. This kind of duplication was not, however, uncommon in the years immediately after the Restoration: there was, for example, yet another Office for the Promotion of Industry, this one

(the Kangyoshi) established in the Ministry of Finance in 138

133 July 1874. Bureaucratic niceties had at first dictated that Tomioka Filature, located as it was in one of the prefectures, be under the auspices of the Ministry of Civil

Affairs, and it may well have been the case that the Ministry of Industry reasoned that it ought to live up to its name and have its own model for what was, after all, a very important industry. In any case, it did not have its model for long: the functions of the Ministry’s Office for the Promotion of

Industry were taken over by the Ministry of Home Affairs upon the letter's establishment in November 187 3. The Ministry of

Home Affairs also had jurisdiction over Tomioka, and did not need two financially troubled filatures on its hands.

Tomioka represented a far greater investment of both money and prestige and, that being the case, the Ministry got rid of the filature in Akasaka barely a year after taking charge of it.

There was, to be sure, no reason for the Ministry to keep the place. It had none of Tomioka's symbolic importance, and virtually no effect on the silk-reeling industry. A few places either based their operations on what was used at the filature or hired people who had trained there, but none of them were of any consequence, and none 134 were in the major production areas. The filature was not, in any case, worth copying. Hayami Kenzo inspected it twice in 1873, and each time reported to the government that the place was poorly run, its workers were not adequately 139

135 supervised, and its produce was of low quality. Little wonder, then, that the government remained so tight-lipped about the operation, and made no effort to encourage people to look to it for guidance. Tomioka could at least boast that, whatever its financial problems, the raw silk it produced was usually the best in Japan. The filature in

Akasaka was a failure in this respect— and in every other.

Even apart from the fact that other places offered the chance to learn Italian reeling techniques, it would have been foolhardy for anyone to try to learn from this filature how to set up a mechanized operation. To do so would have been to court financial disaster.

In the final analysis, though, it need not have been that way. It is conceivable that, under proper circumstances, the place could have performed a very useful role for the silk-reeling industry. Hayami implied as much in his otherwise scathing reports when he noted that the equipment was of high quality; the problem, in other words, was not, as in Tomioka's case, the operation itself, but the way it was run. And Hayami was not alone in his opinion: the same French merchant who had delivered such a bleak assessment of Tomioka's ability to exercise any real influence on the silk-reeling industry had also said that the filature in Akasaka, although much less sophisticated than

Tomioka, could have served as a potential model for producers, and that a mass acceptance of its technology could 140 have resulted in very fine thread being produced throughout the nation.In fact, it was because it was less sophisticated than Tomioka that the place could have been more easily imitated.

But the report seems to have been lost on everyone in the government except Hayami. Viewed from the luxury of historical perspective, the government's decision to abandon the project, in effect, by leasing it to others appears particularly unfortunate. The place could conceivably have played an important role in the dissemination of the Italian reeling method, especially because the other filatures which did this— Maebashi and the operation set up in Tokyo by the

House of Ono— had very short lives. In addition, continuing the filature would have been far less costly than Tomioka was, and could have led, had the place been run properly, to more immediate and tangible results. Tomioka was an ideal, by nature impossible of duplication; the filature in Akasaka was no ideal, but it had the makings of a practical model.

The fate of both places was symptomatic of a general lack of consistent and careful planning, even on a conceptual level, by the government with regard to its "models", and of an inability to alter policy in accordance with the needs of the si Ik-reeling industry as these needs became apparent. The industry itself did, in fact, prosper in this period, and a certain amount of mechanization did occur. But we shall see 141 that, as was true in the Tokugawa period, progress was made less because of what the government did than in spite of it. 142

Notes to Chapter II.

^Takahashi Keizai Kenkyujo, Nihon sanshiqyô hattatsu Shi, 1:220-26, 238.

^Based on figures in Ibid., pp. 61, 200, 212.

3lbid., pp. 202-3.

^Takashima, Shinano sangyS enkaku shiryo, p. 114.

Ssased on figures in Gunma, GSS, 1:638 and Hirano, HS, 2 :appendix.

^Quoted in Yokohama Shi, ed., Yokohama shishi, vol. 3, pt. 1 (Yokohama: YOrindo, 1951):63.

^Sano, Dai Nihon sanshi: seishi, p. 209.

^Assessments were made according to the kind of silk product (raw silk, silk floss, cocoons, etc.) and differed accordingly; but within each category they were the same, regardless of quality. For rates, see Otsuka, Sanshi, 1:236,

^Hirano, HS, 2:appendix.

l^NôshÔmusho NSmukyoku, ed., Sanshigyo ni kansuru sanko shiryS, p. 60.

llpor the full (Japanese) text of the report, see Gunma, GSEC, pp. 44-54.

l^Sano, Dai Nihon sanshi: seishi, pp. 279-86.

^3Nôshômushô Nômukyoku, Sanshiqyô ni kansuru sankô shiryô, p. 63. Silkworm exports fell by half in 1875; they rose again during the next few years, then fell steadily. Demand eventually became so low that merchants resorted to burning their supplies in an effort to boost prices. See Otsuka, Sanshi, 1:392.

l^Quoted in Takahashi Keizai Kenkyujo, Nihon sanshiqyô hattatsu shi, 1:197-98.

^^The full text is in Otsuka, Sanshi, 1:249-50.

lÔQtsuka, Sanshi, 1:254-56. The sequence of events is based on the recollections of Shibusawa Siichi. 143

l^Tomioka Seishij5 Shi Hensan linkai, ed., Tomioka seishijo shi, 2 vois. (Tomioka: Tomioka-shi KySiku linkai, 1977), document no. 4, 1:139 (hereafter cited as Tomioka, TSS),

l^The full text of Brunat's prospectus is included in Tomioka, TSS, document no. 4, 1:147-50.

l^Brunat's contract is included in Ibid.I, 1:150-52..

^^Expenditures for state-run factories through 1885 can be found in Kobayashi Masaaki, Nihon no kôgySka to kangyS haraisage (Tokyo: Tôyô Keizai ShinpS Sha, 1977), p. 139.

21see Tomioka, TSS, document no. 4, 1:140 for the names of the other officials appointed.

22sano, Dai Nihon sanshi: seishi, pp. 242-43.1

23Tomioka, TSS, document no. 5, 1:157.

24Tomioka, TSS, document no. 5, 1:156-58; Fujimoto Jitsuya, Tomioka seishij5 shi (Tokyo: Katakura Seishi Boseki Kabushikigaisha, 1943), pp. 16-17.

Z^Tomioka, TSS, document no. 5, 1:157

27Fujimoto, Tomioka seishijo shi, p. 16. Other sources, e.g., Gunma, GSEC, p. 63, put Brunat's return to Japan at early 1872; but his contract specifically called for him to return by mid-1871, and Odaka, in Tomioka, TSS, document no. 5, 1:156-64, says that Brunat was with him when work was being done on the filature in late 1871.

28>Toinioka, TSS, document no. 5, 1:158.

2^Fujimoto, Tomioka seishijo shi, pp. 18, 2 4 . ’,

30Tomioka, TSS, document no. 3, 1:134-38. Odaka referred to his alternative approaches in an article he wrote in 1893, but in a form different from what he had originally written. For specifics, see Tomioka, TSS, document no. 10, 1:171.

3lTomioka, TSS, document no. 10, 1:172..

32Tomioka, TSS, p. 4 4 . ’.

33Tomioka, TSS, document no. 5, 1:159. 144

^^The full text of the announcement is found in Sano, Dai Nihon sanshi; seishi, pp. 289-90.

^Spujimoto, Tomioka seishijo shi, pp. 25-26.

36The notice is found in Tomioka, TSS, document no. 134, 1:321-22. The prefectures' response is based on figures in Tomioka, TSS, document no. 165, 1:357-58.

37pujimoto, Tomioka seishijo shi, p. 26; Tomioka, TSS, document no. 5, 1:160.

S^Tomioka, T SS, document no. 165, 1:357-58. For an example of bushi response to the situation, and an illustration of the pressure they were under, see Wada Hide, Tomioka nikki, ed. Kami jo Hiroyuki (Tokyo; SSju Sha, 197 6), pp. 9-10.

39por the number of women at Tomioka, and their origin, for selected years through 1884, see Tomioka, TSS, document no. 165, 1:357-58.

'^Owada, Tomioka nikki, pp. 21-22.

4lThe regulations for the women trainees are included in Tomioka, TSS, document no. 4, 1:153-54.

42por the names and salaries of the French employees, see Fujimoto, Tomioka seishijo shi, p. 32. All names are in katakana; with the exception of Brunat, there is no record of the original Roman spelling of their names.

^%ada, Tomioka nikki, p. 20.

44The two accounts are Wada, Tomioka nikki and a much briefer one in Tomioka, TSS, document no. 339, 1:819-21.

45sased on figures in Tomioka, TSS, document no. 176, 1:383-84.

4ÔTomioka, TSS, document no. 5, 1:161-62..

47Tomioka, TSS, document no.. 18, 1:194 and document no. 22, 1:195-96.

48Material related to the dismissal of Brunat's assistants, and to the subsequent lawsuit, is found in Tomioka, TSS, document nos. 27 and 28, 1:197-213.

49Tomioka, TSS, document no. 420, 1:940. 145

SOTomioka, TSS, document no. 25, 1:196.

SlTomioka's first French doctor resigned in May 1874, and was replaced shortly thereafter by another doctor from France, who was to serve for the remainder of the contract. See Tomioka, TSS, document nos. 29 and 30, 1:213-16.

52Tomioka, TSS, document no. 31, 1:216-18.

53According to Odaka, when Brunat's contract finally expired, there were some in the government who thought it desireable to extend it or, alternatively, to hire another French director. Odaka said the idea was dropped when he protested strongly, and insisted that the Japanese had to run Tomioka themselves at that point. See Tomioka, TSS, document no. 5, 1:161.

S^Tomioka, TSS, document nos. 32 and 33, 1:218-22.

SSpujimoto, Tomioka seishijo shi, pp. 28-30.

S^Tomioka, TS S , document no. 180, 1:394-95.

S^Tomioka, TSS, document no. 221, 1:503.. Through fiscal 1884, the fiscal year ran from July of the year designated through June of the following year. As of fiscal 1885, the period was changed to run from April to the following March.

SSpor Hayami's full report, see Tomioka, TSS, document no. 187, 1:401-3. Such problems were apparently typical of government industries in general. In 1876, the Ministry of Industry complained that officials at public factories received disproportionally high salaries, were less effecient than their counterparts in private business, and were trapped by red tape. See Kobyashi, Nihon no kôgyôka to kangyS haraisage, p. 123.

S^The merchant also gave his opinion of the state of the industry in general, and his report is interesting in that respect as well. See Tomioka, TSS, document no. 188, 1:403-6.

GOTomioka, TSS, document no. 5, 1:162-63...

GlTomioka, TSS, document no. 193, 1:425.

GZ^omioka, TSS, document no. 222, 1:515. The money was to be used for the purchase of cocoons, and was to be repaid each year after receipts for the sale of raw silk on the Lyons market arrived. 146

63ôtsuka, Sanshi , 1:398.

S^Fujimoto, Tomioka seishijo shi, p. 46.

GSTomioka, TSS, document no. 219, 1:482-83.. At the government's request, Hayami continued to act as an advisor on matters concerning Tomioka. See Otsuka, Sanshi, 1:434.

65por the complete announcement, including terms of di sposai, see Kobayashi, Nihon no kôgyôka to kangyo haraisage, pp. 182-83.

67por the complete report, written by Maeda Masana and dealing with the silk industry in Gunma as a whole, see Tomioka* TSS, document no. 204, 1:458-63..

GSTomioka, TSS, document no.. 218, 1 482.

69Tomioka, TSS, document no. 264, 1 645-63.

^^Tomioka, TSS, document no. 263, 1 638-45.

^^Tomioka, TSS, document no. 263, 1 638-45.

72Tomioka, TSS, document no. 264, 1 662.

^^Tomioka, TSS, document no. 234, 1 542.

74This was true of the silk-reeling industry as a whole; exports to the United States were insignificant until about 1880, at which point they increased spectacularly, and continued to increase thereafter. For figures, see Yokohama Shi, Yokohama shi shi, 3, pt. 1:470.

75Tomioka, TSS, document no. 244, 1:579.

76otsuka, Sanshi, 2:10-11.

^^Tomioka, TSS, document no. 233, 1:539.

78see Tomioka, TSS, document no. 241, 1:566-72 for the complete text of the request, and for the cabinet's response.

^^Tomioka, TSS, document no. 242, 1:572-73.

SÛFor examples of this way of thinking, see Tomioka, TSS, document no. 218, 1:477-82 and document no. 233, 1:539-42. 147

SlBased on figures in Tomioka, TSS, document no. 237, 1:556 and document no. 245, 1:585.

SZsased on figures in Tomioka, TSS, document no. 237, 1:556, document no. 243, 1:575 and document no. 244, 1:580. At the same time, it should be noted, this reputed champion of private enterprise raised the salaries of the officials at Tomioka.

S^Quoted in Fujimoto, Tomioka seishijo shi, p. 52.

84ibid., p. 54.;

S^Kobayashi, Nihon no kôgyôka to kangyo haraisage, p. 299.

Sôpujimoto, Tomioka seishijo shi, p. 56.

S^Tomioka, TSS, document no. 258, 1:617.

SSpujimotOs, Tomioka seishijo shi, p. 56.

S^The original investment figure is according to Odaka, in Tomioka, TSS, document no. 3, 1:134.

90por Tomioka under civilian management, see Fujimoto, Tomioka seishijo shi, pp. 57-78, Kobayashi, Nihon no kdqySka to kangyo haraisage, pp. 301-6 and Tomioka, TSS, pp. 76-93. Mitsui sold Tomioka to Hara Gomeigaisha in 1902; in 1939, the filature was taken over by Katakura Seishi Boseki Kabushikigaisha, which continues to operate it today.

^^Tomioka, TSS, document no. 258, 1:617-18.

92lbid., 1:618.

9%orks which stress Tomioka's importance include Hirano Murayakuba, Hirano sonshi; Ando Yasuo, "Tomioka seishijo," in Chihoshi Kenkyu Kyogikai, ed. Nihon sanqyoshi taikei, vol. 4, (Tokyo: Tokyo Daigaku Shuppankai, 1959); and Ueda Shishi Hensan linkai, ed. Ueda kindaishi (Ueda: Ueda Shi, 1970). Those which regard Tomioka as of little consequence include Yagi, Nihon kindai seishigyS no seiritsu and Kajinishi Mitsuhaya, ed., Gendai Nihon sangyo hattatsu shi, vol. 11: Sen'i (Tokyo: Kojunsha Shuppankyoku, 1964).

94Quoted in Fujimoto, Tomioka seishijo shi, p. 47.

S^Tomioka, TSS, document no. 258, 1:613. 143

96shibusawa Eiichi, "Yo wa ika ni shite Tomioka seishijo sekkei kantoku no nin ni atarishika," Dai Nihon sanshikaihS 200 (January 1909):14.

97sased on figures in Tomioka, TSS, document no. 165, 1:357-58 and document no. 237, 1:556. The women are assumed to have stayed at Tomioka for an average of one year (a rather generous assumption).

98gased on figures in Yokohama Shi, Yokohama shishi, 3, pt. 1:516.

99See Tomioka, TSS, pp. 821-31 passim.

100he figures are in Tomioka, TSS, document no. 165,1:357-38.

iOlNOshSmushO Kannokyoku and Shomukyoku, eds., Kyoshinkai hgkoku: kenshi no bu (Tokyo: Yürindo, 1880), pp. 67-69; NQsh5mush5 NOmukyoku, ed. Seishi shijunkai kiji (Tokyo: NoshomushS NSmukyoku, 1883; reprint ed., Tokyo: Tokyo Daigaku Shuppankai, 1965), p. 77.

102ibid., p. 49.

lO^Based on information in Tomioka, TSS, document no. 164, 1:338-57.

i04vjada, Tomioka nikki, pp. 56-57.

105>romioka, TSS, document no. 195, 1:444.

106The practice of hiring local women acutally began in 1875, according to the filature's financial statement for that fiscal year, but there are no figures for this until 1884, at which point commuters and day laborers accounted for over one-third of the work force. See Tomioka, TSS, document no. 195, 1:444 and document no. 165, 1:358.

10?The best source for information on Rokkusha (also called "Rokkosha") is Shinano, SSS, especially 3:162-86. See also Tomioka, TSS, document nos. 374, 375 and 376, 1:833-39.

lOSTomioka, TSS, document no. 375, 1:836.

lOSwada, Tomioka nikki, pp. 72, 78.

llOpor examples, see Shinano, SSS, 3:202-3. There is at least one case where someone was refused admission to Tomioka; see Ishii, Nihon sanshiqyô shi bunseki p. 74. 143

llllbid., pp. 69-71.

113lbid., p. 77.

ll^Qtsuka, Sanshi, 1:402..

llSThe 1883 prefectural survey is in Shinano., SSS, 3:584-616. For a study of Nagano filatures based on Tomioka's technology, see Takeda "1870 Nendai Nagano-ken kikai seishi no tenkai katei no kento."

llSshibusawa, "Yo wa ika ni shite Tomioka seishijo sekkei kantoku no nin ni atarishika," p. 14.

H^Sano, Dai Nihon sanshi: seishi, p. 206. The sale of Gunma's silk products through the store was not mandatory, and many merchants preferred to continue to go through other dealers in Yokohama. See Maebashi Shishi Hensan linkai, Maebashi shishi, 3:506-7.

llSQtsuka, Sanshi, 1:257.

ll^Gunma, GSEC, pp. 41-42..

120ibid., p. 41.

IZlHonda, Nihon sanshigyo shi, pp. 353-60; Okumura, Koban kiito watetsu, p. 107.

IZ^Gunma, GSEC, pp. 40-41.

^23sano, Dai Nihon sanshi: seishi, p. 258.

124Gunma, GSEC, p. 61; Honda, Nihon sanshiqyô shi, p. 51.

125

126Gunma, GSEC, p. 98. The merchant, Katsuyama Shusaburo, had asked that he be relieved of his duties with regard to Tomioka; the government responded by asking him to choose between continuing to supply cocoons for Tomioka and taking over Maebashi Filature.'. Katsuyama chose the latter, it apparently being the lesser of two evils.

127pQj- examples, see Honda, Nihon sanshiqyô shi, pp. 50-51; Sano, Dano Nihon sanshi: seishi, p. 266; and Otsuka, Sanshi, 1:260, 285.

128Takeda, "1870 Nendai Nagano-ken kikai seishi no tenkai katei no kento," Shinano vol. 30 no. 2:118. 150

IZ^Honda, Nihon sanshigyo shi, pp. 354-55.

130Takahashi Keizai Kenkyujo, Nihon sanshigyo hattatsu shi, 1:267.

ISlrj^ig ig apparent when one looks at the sources, including Honda, Nihon sanshigyo shi; Otsuka, Sanshi; Sano, Dai Nihon sanshi: seishi; and Imai Gosuke, Nihon sangyo hattatsu shi (Tokyo; Katakura Seishi Boseki Kabushikigaisha, 1927) . They do not agree on such basic points as the year the filature opened, and the name of the Western advisor. With regard to the latter, some sources refer not to Mueller, but to one Caspar Schuller. Almost certainly the advisor was, in fact, Mueller: all sources agree that he was Swiss, that he was well-versed in Italian reeling technology, and that his first name was Caspar. It is difficult to believe that there were two such persons; it would also not be the first time a Western name received more than one transliteration into Japanese (there are several for Brunat). For the best attempt to make some sense of the confusion, see Takahashi Keizai Kenkyujo, Nihon sanshigyo hattatsu shi, pp. 273-75; see also the discussion in Honda, Nihon sanshigyo shi, p. 55.

132see Kobayashi, Nihon no kSgySka to kangyo haraisage, pp. 50-62 for information on the Ministry of Industry.

133Takahashi Keizai Kenkyujo, Nihon sanshigyo hattatsu shi, p. 274.

134por examples, see Otsuka, Sanshi, 1:317.

135lbid., pp. 317, 319-20.

136iTomioka, T S S , document no. 188, 1:405. CHAPTER III

GOVERNMENT POLICY AND THE DEVELOPMENT OF

THE SILK-REELING INDUSTRY

Central Government Regulation; the First Phase

Model filatures were certainly the most obvious sign that the new Meiji government wished to see substantial improvements made in the way the nation's silk-reeling industry operated. The problems that plagued them notwithstanding, these public factories reflected, for the first time, official support for the mechanization of an industry that had been, in most cases, a simple, subsidiary occupation performed by peasants to help keep body and soul together. But it was clear even at the beginning that mechanization to any significant degree was not going to take place overnight. Even Paul Brunat at his most sanguine had said that it would take at least a year to train women at

Tomioka, and no one ventured to estimate how long it would take for the trainees to have any substantial impact on the industry throughout the nation. Anyone in the government rash enough to believe that silk reeling could be quickly transformed from a sideline operation done at home to a mechanized process carried out in factories can only have been given pause by the difficulties encountered in

151 152

setting up and running the model filatures.

Even had these filatures been more effective and influential than they were, they were by nature relatively long-term projects, and could not have solved the more

immediate problems facing the silk-reeling industry— the most notable being a decline in the quality of raw silk that had led to increasingly vociferous Western complaints and, particularly distressing to government, merchant and producer alike, a considerable decline in both the volume and the price of exported silk thread. Although officials of the

Meiji government had shed most of the ideological encumbrances of their predecessors, they were no less predisposed to take economic matters in hand when they saw fit, frequently with results no more salutary or effective than had been the case during the Tokugawa era. The government's first endeavor to solve the quality problem, the

Edo inspection system (sanranshi kiito aratamejo), was, as has been noted, half-hearted and ineffectual. It also had its share of problems from the start. To producers and merchants, the system was not only a scheme to extract money from them, but a reversion to a troublesome and time-consuming obligatory detour to Edo prior to delivery of goods to dealers in Yokohama; even the Bakufu had ultimately seen the inadvisability of requiring such a procedure.

Merchants complained about the time and money involved, and made pointedly unfavorable comparisons between the new system 153 and the last one devised by the Tokugawa government which, since it had provided for regional inspection, was far more convenient for them. So great was the hue and cry in

Yamanashi prefecture that the government approved regional inspection for that area in June 1868, just one month after the Edo inspection system began. In August, the government reversed itself and again made inspection in Edo mandatory because, it said, too much raw silk was going to Yokohama uninspected. Significantly, the order went out to all local governments, not just Yamanashi, indicating that non-compliance with the system was rather widespread.^

Dissatisfaction with the system was not limited to those who paid for it; even within the upper echelons of the central government there was disagreement over the effectiveness, and even the propriety, of what was being done. In February 1869, the Finance Ministry sent a memorandum on the subject to the Foreign Ministry; the memorandum implicitly recognized the failure of the inspection system thus far to improve the quality of silk products, and proposed a complete overhaul of procedures and the establishment of inspection centers at the local level and at Yokohama. In reply, the Foreign Ministry admitted that there were problems with the current system, but said that excessive measures to control quality would cause undue difficulty for producers, and might hinder the growth of trade; it suggested instead that procedures be made as simple 154 as possible, and in effect proposed" a perfunctory certification of goods once taxes had been paid, with no real 2 inspection at all.

Both sides had good reason to take their respective positions here. The Finance Ministry at this point was dependent on silk exports for a large percentage of its recepts, and further reductions in trade or in the price for silk products as a result of poor quality would have meant disaster. Its concern for improved production and stricter inspection was not altruistic by any means, but it was nonetheless genuine. The Foreign Ministry, on the other hand, was responsible for handling all matters related to international trade, and in this capacity had to anticipate how Western diplomats and merchants would react to whatever was done. This task was a particularly thorny one since the treaties which Japan had signed, under duress, with the

Western powers gave the latter considerable say in Japan's trade policy. Thus, for example, when the Foreign Ministry decided to raise export taxes on silkworms, raw silk and tea in August 1869, it did so only after consulting with the 3 major Western ambassadors. In fact, the inspection system, requiring as it did the payment of fees above and beyond the export tax, could have been construed as a violation of the treaties of commerce, and the Foreign

Ministry was constantly concerned lest Westerners find out about this. That the inspection center was in Tokyo, with a 155 4 branch in nearby HachiSji as of June 1869 , meant that what

went on was largely beyond the ken of non-Japanese; but in

September 1869, the Civil Affairs Ministry, whose views

coincided with those of the Finance Ministry, proposed that

inspection centers be set up in Osaka and in all the treaty

ports besides Yokohama, and that inspection procedures be

made more rigorous.^ The Foreign Ministry immediately

vetoed the idea, arguing successfully, and from a point that

was to become one of the more consistent elements in official

policy toward the silk industry in general, that nothing

should be done that might adversely affect trade, and in

addition that if the proposal were to be carried out

Westerners would surely get wind of the fact that additional

fines were being assessed.^

The Foreign Ministry clearly got the upper hand here,

but in other respects the divergence of opinion and policy

continued, particularly since the problem of quality remained

as acute as ever. As a result, the Ministries often acted at

cross purposes. In January 1870, the Civil Affairs Ministry

took steps to control silkworm production by forbidding the

production and sale for export of inferior goods, and by 7 requiring that all producers be licensed. A similar

licensing system, extending to raw silk producers as well and

requiring inspection of one's wares and the payment of a tax

on the license, had been announced in the summer of 1868 to

no apparent effect, and the new order suffered a similar 156 fate; to strengthen it, in August the Ministry extended the licensing system to cover production for the domestic market as well, and issued a detailed list of regulations governing 0 silkworm cultivation (sanshu seizS kisoku). Producers whose goods were below specifications were to have them confiscated, and would be assessed a fine. In May 1871, the

Ministry issued yet another set of directives for the industry, noting that the ones announced less than a year earlier had been to no avail. But the Foreign Ministry did not see things that way; in December 1870, it had appealed to the Ministries of Finance and Civil Affairs, which jointly ran the licensing system, in effect to abandon inspection altogether, since otherwise it would run into foreign opposition and, it said, producers would suffer because of both the restrictions imposed by the system and the fees 9 charged.

In January 1871, the Finance Ministry responded by denying that the system was, as had been charged, oppressive, and by reaffirming the need for inspection; but at the same time it mollified the Foreign Ministry by simplifying inspection procedures and, most importantly, by altering the nomenclature for the taxes assessed so that v^esterners could not complain of restraints on trade (thus, the tax on silkworm egg cards became a "handling fee, " the production tax became a "road improvement tax," etc.).^^ v7ith that, the Foreign Ministry was satisfied. But nothing had actually 157 been settled: the government continued to face the dilemma of whether to allow silk products to be exported without any real supervision, in which case the quality problem might worsen and revenues might well go down; or whether to clamp quality controls on products destined for the export market, in which case the sheer volume of exports would probably fall, leading here too to a reduction in revenues, and to protests from the Western merchant community. Further complicating matters was the fact that the same Western merchants who complained so loudly about the quality of

Japan's silk products at the same time demanded more and more of them, especially raw silk. Their position was unreasonable, and one that Japan could not possibly satisfy at this point; but the treaty system gave the Meiji government precious little means with which to extricate itself from the situation, save by covert measures such as the aforementioned disguised taxes.

In any case* the Ministries of Finance and Civil

Affairs continued to address themselves to the problem of quality, though in so doing they often acted contrary to the wishes of the Foreign Ministry. In June 1871, the Civil

Affairs Ministry translated and distributed the Western merchant report, mentioned in chapter 2, with its dire warnings about the consequences of failure to upgrade quality. The lack of response to this— understandable, since exports doubled that year^^, so that there was no 158

inducement for producers to change their ways— prompted the

Finance Ministry, in turn, to try stronger measures. In

February 1872, it forbade the cultivation and sale of silkworms whose quality did not meet the standards set by the production regulations issued thus far, and ordered local officials in Tokyo and the major production areas to select qualified personnel to see that the regulations were 12 followed ; the following month, it ordered that henceforth all silkworm transactions be recorded, and that the records 13 be submitted regularly to the central government. In

May, it issued the second of the Western merchants' reports on Japan's silk industry, and tightened inspection procedures by requiring that all export-bound silkworm egg cards carry 14 certification seals issued by the Ministry. Later that month, the Ministry attempted to control the outflow of the better silkworm varieties by setting a minimum limit on the amount that went to the domestic market. This legal sleight of hand was not, technically, a violation of the free trade provision of the treaties of commerce since it did not actually place restrictions on silkworm exports, but it amounted to the same thing.

That the heretofore very vocal Foreign Ministry remained quiet through this flurry of activity seems, on the surface, surprising; but in fact it had little to complain about, because the attempt to control the quantity and quality of silk products was a failure. The repeated 159

injunctions against the production of inferior goods— sometimes issued on a monthly basis— were a telling

indication of the fact that few in the industry were heeding

them. Nor was there any real motivation to follow the

system, since it did, after all, cost the producer; even more

importantly, despite the increasing severity of the rules laid down, neither the Finance Ministry nor the Civil Affairs

Ministry ever took meaningful steps to see that they were enforced or that those in violation were penalized. The threatened confiscation of substandard silkworms might have done more than all the government's rhetoric to convince producers that their get-rich-quick approach to the export market would be ultimately ruinous; but if confiscation was carried out at all, it was done very sparingly, since exports actually went up in both 1871 and 1872.^^

Partly at the urging of Western merchants in

Yokohama, the government had, through 1872, directed such energy as it expended to resolving the problems of the silkworm industry, the hope being that, if it were successful, thread producers would have access to better raw material, and would thereby improve the quality of their output. As a result, relatively little attention was paid directly to the problem of raw silk production, even though the inspection system as established in 1868 was no more effective in this case than it had been with silkworms. But the cumulative effect of the failure to regulate silkworm 160 production, the pessimistic reports submitted by Western merchants and, since 1870, a persistent decline in the price

for exported raw silk was to make it apparent that the

indirect approach would not work, that policy would have to be changed. The Finance Ministry therefore sent a notice to all prefectural governors in November 1872, ordering them to select appropriate personnel to attend a conference on the silk-reeling industry, which was to begin later that month in 17 Tokyo. The conference lasted over two months, included meetings between the prefectural representatives and the

Yokohama silk wholesalers as well as with officials of the government, and resulted in the creation of a set of production control regulations and the establishment of an inspection system to see that they were carried out.

The production control regulations (kiito seizo torishimari kisoku) were issued by the Finance Ministry in

January 1873. From June of that year, all silk thread and related by-products, including what was bound for the domestic market, were to be inspected prior to sale, and could not be sold unless they had first received a seal of certification issued by the Ministry. Each hank of raw silk, once inspected and approved, had to have a paper wrapper, also issued by the Ministry, onto which the certification seal was affixed. Dirty or broken thread would be denied certification? any silk products sold without going through the inspection procedure would be confiscated, and both buyer 161

18 and seller would be fined five per cent of the sale price.

To carry out the inspection and certification, wholesalers in Yokohama, after consultation with the prefectural representatives, established a new silk inspection center (kiito aratame gaisha) in the port and, with the approval of the Finance Ministry, issued rules for the center shortly after the Ministry sent out its own regulations. The two sets of rules were intended to complement each other as integral parts of one system of control, and as a result much of what they said was the same. But the inspection center's rules, as might be expected, laid down more specific procedures for inspection.

All goods bound for export were to be examined twice; first at the local level at inspection centers, on whose establishment the government and the Yokohama wholesalers had agreed, and where goods would receive the Finance Ministry's seal of certification; and then at the Yokohama inspection center, which had the final say and could reject goods already certified, in which case the local inspector and the producer would be subject to a fine. Goods to be sold on the domestic market were subject only to local inspection. Fees were set at one-third of one per cent of the current market value of the commodity for certification at the local level, and one-half of one per cent for inspection in Yokohama; proceeds were to be sent to the Finance Ministry's tax 19 bureau, which would return ten per cent to the centers. 162

In accordance with the rules drawn up in Yokohama, the head of the Finance Ministry's tax bureau, Mutsu

Munemitsu, sent a notice to the prefectural governments ordering them to establish local inspection centers, and to see that all merchants and producers who dealt in raw silk registered with them. The order gave the prefectures considerable freedom of action here: officials at this level could decide on the appropriate number of centers at their own discretion and in accordance with the circumstances and needs of the industry in their area; a center could be established jointly by several prefectures if the scale of 20 the industry so warranted. But the response to the order was rather less than immediate, and with considerable justification, since local governments had to establish jurisdictional boundaries for their centers, set the places up and find personnel to run them, and have each center draw up its own set of procedures and regulations. An impatient

Finance Ministry told the prefectural governments in May to have the centers set up as soon as possible, and by mid-summer most of the major production areas had 21 complied. The latitude granted the prefectures by the central government resulted in a considerable variation in the structure and size of inspection networks: Nagano, for example, had twelve inspection centers and eight substations;

Yamanashi had one center and ten substations; and Gifu had 22 ten centers. 163

In some respects, this new inspection system was in a better position to bring about a real measure of quality control and improvement than the Meiji government's first attempt in this area had been— and, indeed, than the steps taken by the Bakufu and han governments. Inspection at two levels made it considerably more difficult for producers and merchants to avoid having their wares examined prior to sale for export, especially since almost all raw silk exported through Yokohama was ultimately handled by the wholesalers 23 who oversaw inspection there. Fees were so nominal that it would scarcely have been worth anyone's while to bypass the inspection procedures anyway. To assure compliance with the system, the government announced in March 1873 that all producers and merchants who handled raw silk had to acquire licenses to do so. The licenses were to be issued by the

Finance Ministry and distributed to local inspection centers, where they would be available for a small fee; as noted above, licences had also been mandatory under the Meiji government's first inspection system but, the announcement candidly noted, merchants in particular had ignored the requirement,^^ The new system, in addition to providing for inspection twice, required that all those involved in the silk industry "affiliate with" (ka'nyu) the inspection centers, thus enabling the government to know precisely who was doing business, and making it very difficult for anyone 25 to operate without a license. As an attempt to control 154 the silk-reeling industry the new system was, on paper, far more powerful than anything that had come before it.

But there were problems as well. Among other things, the system as it evolved became a bureaucratic nightmare.

Although the central government had taken a much more decisive role here in determining the general contours of policy, the structure of the system was, in operation, very decentralized. Prefectural governments were left to their own devices in determining how inspection would actually be carried out, and the centers they established drew up their own sets of regulations, which did not entirely correspond to what the Finance Ministry had ordered or to the rules for the center in Yokohama. This was not entirely an unfortunate situation insofar as it left room for inspection centers to make adjustments according to the particular nature of the silk industry in their area; already, regions were beginning to pursue markedly divergent paths in response to the demands of the export market and to the availbility of Western reeling techniques. But for the ordinary producer or merchant, it meant a welter of confusing and sometimes contradictory regulations. In addition, both the central government and local inspection centers issued amendments to their rules on a regular basis; some of the revisions were practical responses to the changing nature of the industry, but others were a petty reflection of a bureaucratic itch to 2 g meddle. To make matters even more complicated, on the 165

national level the Finance and Home Affairs Ministries shared

jurisdiction over the structure; the Home Affairs Ministry,

following its establishment in November 1873, oversaw the

general administration of the system, while the Finance

Ministry issued all seals, licences and certificates. Local

inspection centers were supposed to be self-supporting, but

the bureaucratic miasma with which they were saddled 27 apparently caused many of them to operate at a loss.

An even greater problem concerned the ability of the

inspection system to achieve what it set out to do— i.e., to

improve the quality of Japan's raw silk. Some years after the system met its demise, producers at a conference on the silk industry spoke almost wistfully of the advances made during its operation; but there is very little to substantiate their sentiments. Certainly the new inspection procedures did not do much to affect the price for exported raw silk, which continued to decline every year except 1876, and hit what was to be the lowest point in the Meiji era in 28 1875. To the extent price declines reflected a deterioration of, or at least a lack of improvement in, the quality of raw silk, this is not surprising. Notwithstanding their voluminosity, the rules and regulations at every level paid scant attention to quality control or to criteria for inspection and certification; this was particularly true of those issued by the central government and by the Yokohama wholesalers, though even at the local level the situation was 156

29 not much better. The rules were called production regulations, but they were that only in the loosest sense; in substance, much of what was mandated was a rehash of earlier rules. The Ministry of Finance's regulations did specifically prohibit double zaguri reeling (see chapter 1), and this was later done on the local level as well; but similar injunctions had been issued before, and would be issued countless times in the future, always to little avail.Such production guidelines as were included in the regulations were largely meaningless at any rate.

Although the Finance Ministry had provided for confiscation and fines in cases where goods were sold without the requisite seals, the only measure designed to restrict sales of shoddy merchandise was that allowing for the rejection of goods at the Yokohama inspection center. Yet the Yokohama wholesalers, whose income was in direct proportion to the volume of thread they traded, were the group least likely to enforce this, and indeed there is no indication that they did. Some local governments made token attempts to rectify the situation; Nagano prefecture, for one, told producers in

1875 that it would confiscate all double-reeling equipment as a way to force producers to produce better raw silk; but it did not, apparently, carry out the threat, and most other areas did not even go this far.^^

For all its intricacy, the inspection system did nothing to diminish the flow of raw silk out of Yokohama; nor 157

was it intended to. Exports actually jumped thirty per cent 32 in 1873, the first year the system was in effect.

Nonetheless, Western merchants saw the system, which they

dubbed, not entirely without justification, "the silk guild,"

as an attempt to restrict trade; and in November 1873, they

conveyed their concern to the British embassy. This resulted

in a meeting later in November between the Foreign Minister

and six Western ambassadors, at which the latter managed to

extract from Foreign Minister Terajima statements to the

effect that affiliation with the inspection centers was not

compulsory, and that the fees paid were solely to meet the

expenses of the centers. Subsequent meetings led Terajima,

who was unfamiliar with the workings of the inspection system

and who was opposed to its operation, to an admission that

the centers had strayed far from their original purpose, and

to a promise to have the regulations modified to stress that

merchants were free to affiliate with local centers or to 33 conduct business independently of them.

Terajima was acting here out of an apparently genuine

conviction that the regulations amounted to a violation of

the treaties of commerce with which Japan had no choice but

to comply; as before, however, the Foreign Minister was also

trying both to head off more vociferous and concrete Western

opposition, notably in the area of taxes, and— reflecting a

sentiment held by everyone else in the government— to prevent

Westerners from establishing themselves inside Japan and 158 dealing directly with producers at the local level. As long as the inspection procedures remained in effect. Western merchants would be denied access to silk products until they had gone through the center in Yokohama. Thus, although

Terajima opposed the system as it existed, fearing that it was too vulnerable to Western attack, he fully supported the

idea of confining Western merchants to the treaty ports, an objective the inspection system did achieve. Still, as had happened before, officials in the Finance Ministry objected to the Foreign Minister's position; Mutsu Munemitsu and

Matsukata Masayoshi, who at that point was head of the tax bureau, advised Finance Minister Okuma Shigenobu that acceding to Western demands, as Terajima proposed doing, would set a dangerous precedent which would seriously weaken

Japan's sovereign status. When Terajima defended his stand,

Mutsu responded with a biting memorandum, declaring that the

Foreign Ministry's position was "far from Japan's economic methods," and iciliy asking for "a little understanding from those economists of the Western persuasion." In the end, the

Foreign Ministry got its way again, probably because Terajima had already committed himself and, Japan's position being what it was, there was little question of reversing what had been promised. Therefore, in December 1873, Finance Minister

Okuma notified the inspection centers that in the future affiliation on the part of merchants with the centers was to be voluntary, that compulsory affiliation was contrary to the 169

spirit of the system, and that merchants should be free to

affiliate with and withdraw from local inspection centers as

they pleased, and to do business with those outside the 34 system.

At first glance a substantial concession to the demands of the destern merchant community, Okuma's action was

in fact a very adroit political maneuver. The Westerners were mollified, and with that the Foreign Ministry relinquished any say it had in determining policy toward the silk industry. In one stroke, Okuma managed to solve one of the inspection system's more serious problems, while at the same time doing nothing to alter the way it operated.

Affiliation had never been precisely defined anyway, and even if it was now voluntary the licensing system remained intact, as did the requirement that all goods be inspected. And the

Finance Ministry acted quickly to undercut whatever force the announcement had: with Okuma's approval, Matsukata sent an explanation of the change in policy to prefectural governments, belittling it as an unfortunate but unavoidable result of the inability of the Foreign Ministry to stand up to Western pressure, and praising the inspection centers for raising the quality of silk products and helping to resist 35 foreign aggrandizement. Armed with this kind of information, local centers revised their regulations so that, though the principle of voluntary affiliation was reluctantly affirmed, direct transactions with foreigners or their 170 representatives was forbidden in even stronger terms than before. Nagano prefecture» which would soon rank first in raw silk production, took the lead here^^; the approach became common policy as of March 1874, when officials from the local inspection centers met in Yokohama and passed a series of resolutions which, among other things, strictly prohibited any transactions with those not affiliated with 37 the centers» or with Westerners outside the treaty ports.

Even though the problem of Western hostility had been rather successfully disposed of, the inspection system's other flaws remained. Its structure» providing as it did for two levels of inspection, had been a potential source of trouble from the start. The system's semi-private, semi-public status did not help either: although the centers were established by government fiat, they were staffed, by and large, by local merchants in the prefectures and by the major silk wholesalers in Yokohama; each of the two groups was maneuvering for position at this point, and there was no love lost between them. It did not take long» therefore» for local centers to begin smarting under what they saw as the domination of the Yokohama wholesalers. In January 1874, representatives of inspection centers in Yamanashi unilaterally decided that from then on only one out of every ten packages of silk thread from the prefecture would be submitted for examination in Yokohama» and that fees would be paid only for that thread. Three months later, at the 171

aforementioned meeting in Yokohama, regional representatives

extracted from the wholesalers there a forty per cent 38 reduction in inspection fees at the port. At the same

time, the meeting's affirmation of the prohibition against

dealing with anyone not affiliated with the centers worked to

strengthen the system; but the Yokohama wholesalers later complained that they had been forced to accept the fee

reduction only because the alternative would have been the collapse of the entire structure. Indeed, they had reason

for concern: the price for raw silk fell in both 1874 and

1875, and this, along with the reduction in revenues from

inspection, put the wholesalers and their inspection center in serious financial difficulty— a situation, as noted above, 39 not untypical of inspection centers in general.

As time went by, it was also becoming obvious that the quality of raw silk in particular, and of silk products in general, was not really improving. This was a general trend throughout the nation, but the system seems to have been least effective in areas where the silk-reeling industry was expanding most rapidly; yet it was precisely those areas which needed some measure of control. In Nagano, quality continued to decline, so much so that in December 1873 the

Yokohama inpection center sent people to travel around the prefecture, explaining production regulations and trying to persuade people to abide by them.The results were meager: in both 1874 and 1875, the Nagano government issued 172 its own production regulations, each time noting that the quality of raw silk had continued to decline alarmingly.

When the price for silk thread on the Yokohama market shot up fifty per cent in 1876, many producers cast whatever qualms they had about quality to the winds in an attempt to cash in on the boom, prompting Matsukata Masayoshi to issue a warning to Nagano prefectural officials and to send a representative from the Home Affairs Ministry to the area to see that they 41 took action. In Gunma, the problem was equally serious: the prefectural government declared in July 1876 that "the quality of our raw silk has gone down every year," and that the inspection centers had been "completely ineffective in eliminating bad practices;" the prefecture even went as far as sending police around to try to see that the production 42 rules were enforced. That the situation was litte better elsewhere, despite what people were later to claim, is apparent: a report, submitted to the central government in

January 1875 by an official sent to Europe to attend the

Vienna Exhibition and to find out how well Japanese raw silk was being received in the West, cited qualitative deterioration in all areas, and warned that

If (Japanese silk producers) want to receive the prices they got in the past, they will have to apply themselves and carry out reforms of some magnitude. A sudden, mass importation of Western reeling methods would not only be expensive but difficult for the average producer to handle; 173

therefore a gradual movement in this direction seems most advisable. But the most pressing need, in any case, is for the quality of Japan's raw silk to be brought up to what it was when trade began in 1859.43

Similarly, one of the largest wholesalers involved in inspection at the Yokohama center later remarked that, although the system eliminated some abuses, countless others 44 continued to flourish.

In April 1377, the central government rescinded the production regulations it had issued since 1873 and abolished the inspection.system; at the same time, the Home Affairs

Ministry announced the end of the licensing system, but ordered that all silk products continue to be identified with the name and address of the producer. No explanation of the change in policy was offered, but none was really needed.

Some scholars have attributed the government's decision to a realization that the system was actually an obstacle to the development of mechanized silk reeling.Quite clearly, as we shall see, the government had no desire to put controls of any kind on raw silk produced by machine. But the regulations it had issued in fact provided no guidelines at all for handling or inspecting this kind of thread; and in prefectures like Nagano, where mechanized operations accounted for almost one-third of all output by 1878, the inspection centers seem to have had no influence in this 46 area. The system was not an obstacle to mechanized reeling; it was simply irrelevant. What was certainly 174 uppermost in the government's mind was the plain fact that the inspection and certification system did not work as expected; it was not a reliable source of revenue, since many centers operated in the red and thus were in no position to forward the fees they received to the Finance Ministry; and it did not bring about an improvement in the quality of silk products. Hayami Kenzo, the most outspoken and experienced, if not the most influential, official connected with the silk industry, told the government in 1876 that the centers were ineffective in the latter regard^^; but by this time the system's inadequacies were all too apparent.

Like the Bakufu a decade earlier, the Meiji government had found the silk industry remarkably able to resist the control of the central government.

Private and Prefectural Regulatory Activity

The end of the inspection system did not, however, mean the end of inspection altogether. In withdrawing from this sphere of activity— and the withdrawal was never complete— Tokyo left it up to the prefectural governments and to the powerful Yokohama wholesalers to do as they wished.

In October 1877 the wholesalers met and established their own inspection center in lieu of the old one, and, with the sanction of the central and prefectural governements, announced that henceforth they would refuse to handle what was then the most common form of hand reeled zaguri thread. 17 5 sage ito, unless it had been certified at the local level and was then submitted to their own center for inspection. Their aim was not really one of quality control, since "inspection" in Yokohama was to consist of the presentation of the local certification documents, after which the shipper or producer could, in theory, do as he pleased; rather, the wholesalers were attempting to preserve their near-monopoly on the silk export trade. Thus, six months later the wholesalers announced, again with official approval, that all raw silk was to go through their inspection center because, they added rather lamely, unless they were able to keep statistics on the amount of silk thread being sold in Yokohama, "serious losses" would occur in the export trade. In addition, although the original rules for the center had specifically stated that after inspection shippers were free to deal directly with Western merchants, the wholesalers now set 48 stiff fines for anyone who did this.

The wholesalers spoke in lofty terms of their "duty to improve the quality of Japanese raw silk and to see that 49 it gets a fair price," but duty was of secondary concern at best. Nevertheless, they were able to retain their power, largely because public officials agreed to the system and— equally important— because, practically speaking, they were indeed in the best position to deal with Westerners.

They had the most experience, and were the most likely to fetch a healthy price for their wares. Their role, already 176 well-developed, as a major source of funding for shippers and, increasingly, for producers themselves was sufficient to still any effective opposition from these quarters.Even the Western merchant community had no grounds for complaint, because the new center had no ties to the government in a strictly legal and financial sense, and did not openly charge an inspection fee, adding it instead to the normal handling charge required for all products they sold.^^

The actions taken by the Yokohama wholesalers followed attempts at the prefectural level to devise alternatives to the now defunct inspection system; in this regard, Nagano and Gunma, which by 1878 together accounted for almost sixty per cent of all raw silk shipped to 52 Yokohama, are expecially informative. In June 1877,

Nagano issued a notice to the effect that, although other prefectures had reinstituted certification and inspection procedures, the industry in Nagano had, as a result of strenuous effort on the part of all concerned, progressed so much that the prefecture would limit itself to suggesting a few production guidelines rather than imposing its own inspection system. This blithe announcement contrasted strikingly with the pessimistic statements the same office had sent out in previous years, and it was apparent from the guidelines appended to it that the situation was not quite as healthy as the prefectural government indicated, since they included, once again, a ban on double zaguri reeling and a 177 warning that officials would be sent around during the 53 reeling season to inspect operations. Almost immediately

thereafter, representatives of the erstwhile inspection centers presented the prefectural government with a petition that the entire inspection and certification procedure be reinstated, and that all thread, including that produced by 54 machine, be subject to their purview. In accordance with its announced policy, the prefecture declined to allow this but, responding to a request from the Kanagawa government

(under whose jursidiction Yokohama lay), decided the same month to require that all sage ito receive prefectural certification, and ordered the inspection centers to handle this.^^ The task was a perfunctory one, allowing for no discriminatory power on the part of the centers, and in late

1877 officials from these places made an unsuccessful bid to expand their authority by asking the prefectural government to set up a mandatory licensing system, administered by the centers, for those in the silk industry. Failure here led the centers to ask, in March 1878, for a reorganization of the inspection system and, again, for a prefectural requirement that all raw silk be inspected and certified.

The Nagano government finally agreed to this, but was able to secure the approval of the Home Affairs Ministry only on condition that the centers limit their activities to handling sage ito. This was, in effect, what the centers had been doing and thus amounted to no real change, though the old 178 system was reorganized into nine inspection centers in June 1878.56

Restricting the system's jurisdiction to sage ito was tenable only insofar as this kind of raw silk constituted the bulk of what the prefecture was producing, and insofar as the centers had the power to compel producers to submit their goods. But the latter was never the case, and the former was increasingly less so as mechanization of silk reeling spread more rapidly in Nagano than anywhere else in the country.

The problem was compounded by the fact that producers who reeled by hand were able to evade inspection in ever larger numbers by the simple expedient of rereeling and binding their thread so that it looked machine-made. In late 1879, the prefectural government sent two officials around the region to examine the state of the industry and to evaluate the effectiveness of the inspection system. Both reported serious problems with production quality and widespread evasion of inspection procedures, and advised the prefecture to strengthen the system and extend it to thread produced by machine— a measure they said was advocated by producers 57 themselves.

The prefectural government was already aware that some producers, particularly those whose filatures were mechanized, wanted more direction and support, since they had made this clear at a meeting sponsored by the prefecture in

February 1879. Nothing came of the request at that time, but 179

the bleak assessment submitted by its own officials prompted

Nagano to ask the Home Affairs Ministry in February 1880 for

permission to require inspection and certification of all

thread; unless this was done, the request said, the

prefecture would lack any means to set quality standards for

raw silk produced by machine. The Ministry, predictably,

refused the request on the grounds that it was contrary to

the policy determined by the central government when it

abolished its inspection system in 1877.^®

Even before word came of the Interior Ministry's

response, frustrated producers concluded that relying on the government for guidance was futile; in February 1880, forty of Nagano's major raw silk producers set up a cooperative association, Yugisha, in order to coordinate quality control

for both machine- and hand-reeled thread, to train workers

and establish uniform hiring procedures, and to facilitate

the exchange of information and techniques. The

association's ambitious goals were far beyond anything the

government— prefectural or central— had ever envisioned, but

as a private organization Yugisha was free to try what it might. The association attempted, with no success, to persuade Nagano to expand its own activities and, at the same

time, to close down the "worthless" inspection system.

The prefecture ignored the suggestions, though otherwise

looked with favor upon Yugisha's existence: when the organization requested the services of two high-ranking 180

officials in Nagano's Bureau of Industrial Promotion, the

prefecture approved their resignation; in 1881, it turned

over to Yugisha a mechanized filature it had set up as a

model for the prefecture, and also gave the organization

jurisdiction over inspection centers in all areas where it

had representatives.^^

Transferring direction of the inspection centers to

Yugisha was a politically expedient move; it was designed, no

doubt, to take some of the heat off the prefectural

government, which heretofore had borne the brunt of the

increasing criticism of the system. Yugisha, for its part,

may have hoped that the action would put it in a stronger

position from which to press for a more activist public

policy. But the structure of the inspection system remained

unchanged, and so did its problems. In May 1882, therefore,

Yugisha again asked the prefecture to expand inspection to

machine-made thread.The government again refused, but

the discontent continued, and from some new sources : an

official from Tokyo, sent to examine Nagano's silk industry,

severely criticized the centers for perfunctory issuance of

certification seals; and when the prefecture asked local

chambers of commerce for their opinion, they responded with

stinging criticisms of the system as of virtually no value or

influence.»fith this, the prefecture finally yielded to

popular sentiment and, acknowledging that "examining only hand-reeled thread was inequitable and did not reflect the 131 will of the people," closed down the inspection centers entirely in August 1882. It retained for Yugisha the exclusive right to issue certification seals— a meaningless gesture since at the same time it allowed for retailing 64 without them. No one was particularly satisfied with this; the sentiment had been for more, not less, government activity. But the prefecture had wearied, no less than had

Tokyo before it, of sustained involvement in the industry.

Gunma's response to the end of the central government's inspection system was ultimately no more successful than Nagano's, but it was, at least, considerably less tortuous. In May 1877, the prefecture ordered inspection and certification to be continued at the inspection centers exactly as before until new procedures could be drawn up for the area; the following month, it announced that only sage ito bound for Yokohama or in excess of 6.6 pounds would be subject to the procedure, and in July it extended the order to all sage ito for the domestic market, regardless of weight^^. This restriction of the inspection centers' jurisdiction to one particular kind of silk thread, quite apart from the fact that it conformed to the policy of the central government, made sense in Gunma at the time: almost all raw silk produced in the prefecture was of the sage ito variety. Still, enterprising producers found a way to get around the new system, just as people in Nagano had: they rereeled and bound their thread to resemble that 182

produced by machine, so that in a technical sense it was no

longer sage ito and was therefore exempt from the inspection

requirement. The prefecture responded to this in March 1879

by ordering that all thread reeled by the zaguri process,

regardless of the way it was bound, be inspected and

certified. Significantly, the Interior Ministry allowed the

directive to stand, but only because sage ito still

dominated.

In its ability to control the silk industry, Gunma's

inspection system was remarkably successful at first; ninety-eight per cent of all raw silk produced in 1879

followed the required procedures before being shipped to

Yokohama. But problems with quality remained as serious as before, and the success of the system was very short-lived, as evasion became increasingly common; in 1881, only half of all Gunma's raw silk went through the centers.In addition, opposition to the system was becoming more vocal and, as in Nagano, was coming from sources the prefecture

could not easily ignore: in 1881, the prefectural assembly adopted a resolution, sponsored by one of Gunma's more

influential silk cooperatives, calling on the government to

close the inspection centers and allow quality control to be handled privately. The resolution noted rather pointedly that

At this point the inspection system is not only wholly ineffectual, but actually an obstacle to further improvements in production. It would therefore be best to eliminate inspection, and simply have producers use their own seals on their output. After all, the inspection 183

centers are not entirely public institutions, and their proceeds ought properly to belong to the people.

In an action apparently designed to save face for itself, the prefectural government responded by reinstituting the licensing requirement (defunct since 1877), but making licenses available at local police stations rather than at the inspection centers. The government was thereby able to assert its authority, while at the same time placating the assembly by giving what ought logically to have been a prerogative of the centers to a different public institution.

The following year, the assembly decided that its call for an end to the inspection system had been premature, that it should be phased out gradually as private organizations took its place. In effect, the prefectural government followed this advice, thought in a roundabout way: after negotiations with the Ministry of Agriculture and

Commerce, which opposed any extension of inspection, it announced in May 1882 that all thread had to have inspection seals affixed prior to sale, but that the seals would be sold at special offices set up for the purpose rather than at the inspection centers, and that seals were not required for cooperatives registered with the prefecture. In practical terms, this restricted inspection, as before, to sage ito, since it was the cooperatives that were turning out all the hand-reeled thread prepared and bound like that produced by 184

m a c h i n e . Finally, in 1884, the prefecture nullified all

former regulations and ordered that public associations

(sanshi kumiai) be established throughout Gunma to handle

inspection. Once again, private cooperatives were exempted

from the order, and inspection was limited to sage ito,

production of which was already well into a precipitous

decline. The new policy meant, in effect, the end of any

substantial effort on the part of the prefecture to direct or

control the silk industry.

The actions taken in Nagano and Gunma are important

not only because these prefectures dominated raw silk

production, but because they reflect the two divergent trends

characteristic of the industry in general; that the attitude

of producers in the two areas differed is not, therefore,

surprising. Silk-reeling operations in Nagano mechanized, in

one form or another, at an ever-increasing rate from the late

1870's, and their owners looked to the government for

protection— protection both in terms of financing, since they had invested rather heavily and therefore stood to lose the

most if the market faltered, but also against what they saw

as the baneful influence of hand-reeled thread, especially

that rereeled and bound like their product. Owners of

mechanized operations complained loudly, and as early as

1879, about the practice. As they saw it, this hand-reeled

thread resembled what they were producing by machine only to

outward appearances, and in the end its inferior quality 185 ultimately forced down the price of genuine machine-reeled raw silk.^^ They received support for this position from officials in the prefectural government, and in February 1880 when Nagano requested— unsuccessfully— the approval of the

Interior Ministry for its plans to inspect all raw silk, one motive was to ensure that all hand-reeled thread was 72 identified as such.

In Gunma, by contrast, mechanization was proceding at a snail's pace; increasingly, producers resorted to just the kind of tactics their counterparts in Nagano so vigorously opposed.. By rereeling and binding raw silk to resemble machine-made thread, Gunma's producers were able to reap some of the advantages of machine production (notably, a usually higher price on the export market) while avoiding some of its pitfalls (higher establishment costs, greater outlays for raw material, etc..) ; and by finishing their products on a cooperative basis, through the aforementioned cooperatives, they were able to cut costs significantly. Their goods were not usually on a par with machine-reeled thread, provided the latter was done properly, but they were better than the usual zaguri output. What was done here aroused the wrath of those elsewhere who had gone to the trouble to mechanize, but in

Gunma this was an insignificant force; in the short run, at least, the tactic made eminent economic sense. In response to the trend, the prefectural government made nominal motions in the direction of control, but otherwise allowed it to 136 develop unchecked; thus the exemption of private cooperatives* which by and large manufactured this kind of raw silk, from the regulations issued by Gunma in the

1880's. For the prefecture to have done otherwise would have been to take on, and incur the enmity of, producers who by the late 1880's were responsible for over half of Gunma's raw silk.73

Central Government Regulation; the Second Phase

For its part, the central government did not have to contend, at least on a regular basis, with the demands of producers, and in any case by ending its own inspection system in 1877, it had clearly chosen to withdraw from the fray. Yet its subsequent actions indicate that there was more to the government's hands-off policy than simply frustration or dissatisfaction with the rules and procedures it had devised. It could have chosen to tighten inspection and certification, especially since experience had shown that it was easy to prevent Western opposition by simply having things done away from the treaty ports; it chose instead to eliminate the procedures altogether. Then, when prefectures went about setting up their own inspection systems, officials in Tokyo carefully circumscribed their authority so that the only kind of raw silk affected was sage ito, which by the early 1880's was becoming more and more insignificant as an export commodity; and even in this case, those who refused to 137 submit their goods for inspection could not be penalized.

Conversely, the increasingly dominant varieties of raw silk, that reeled by machine and that finished to resemble machine-made thread, were kept strictly beyond the 74 jurisdiction of any regulations.. Quite clearly the central government was unwilling to do anything that might check increases in output and sale of the kinds of raw silk which it correctly perceived would constitute the bulk of the vital silk export trade..

This reluctance on the part of the central government to do anything that might hamstring the growth (if not the development) of raw silk production was justifiable, and generally accepted, as long as the overall economic climate was conducive to a healthy silk-reeling industry.. The late

1870's had been years of steady growth and prosperity for the industry; raw silk prices reached their highest point ever in 1876; the average price on the Yokohama market fell twenty per cent the following year, but thereafter remained steady— a situation far more likely to lead to constant increases in raw silk output than the rapid fluctuations that had characterized the market in previous years. The volume of exports was also consistently higher— usually much higher— than it had been since the beginning of the Meiji 75 era. Particularly in Nagano, but also to some extent elsewhere, farmers in increasing numbers began to set up mechanized filatures or to convert their old zaguri 188 operations in to mechanized ones.^^ To be sure, some disturbing problems remained, the most important being the failure to achieve anything substantial in the way of quality control or improvement; but, rhetoric notwithstanding, official concern in this regard was always overshadowed by economic reality. The silk trade was putting money, and plenty of it, into the government's coffers; that was what mattered. Besides, the government was preoccupied with more serious problems, particularly the Satsuma Rebellion, and had neither time nor money for the silk industry.

In the early 1880's, however, the situation changed drastically. A policy of severe fiscal retrenchment initiated by the Finance Ministry under Matsukata Masayoshi in 1881 resulted in a marked decline in commodity prices and a nation-wide depression. For those who produced raw silk as their sole source of income and for the export market only, this need not have been injurious: deflation meant that they were able to buy raw materials at lower prices. But at this point most producers were not of this variety, and for many of them the times were disastrous; in Yamanashi prefecture, for example, almost half of all filatures were forced to shut 77 down, and the situation was similarly actute in Gunma.

Yet of even more ruinous effect on the silk-reeling industry was an acrimonious dispute that erupted between

Yokohama silk wholesalers and the Western merchant houses in

1881, occasioned by the attempt on the part of the 139 wholesalers to eliminate the arbitrary trade practices of the

Westerners and to recover some of their commercial rights, denied under the treaty port system. The wholesalers set up a general silk warehouse and, with the support of the central government and of the major banks, refused to handle any raw silk unless it first went through the warehouse for weighing and quality classification— two procedures heretofore the province of the Western merchants, and both the object of egregious abuse. The silk trade came to a virtual halt in

September, when Westerners refused to recognize the legitimacy of the wholesalers' action. The bitter dispute was finally resolved in mid-November, to minimal benefit for the Japanese; the more outrageous actions commonly taken by the Westerners were outlawed, but otherwise things remained 78 essentially unaltered.

In the short run, the dispute had a devastating effect on the silk-reeling industry. The timing could not have been worse; trade was halted during precisely the time of year when raw silk flowed into Yokohama in greatest quantity, and when the conflict was resolved, so much thread had been stockpiled in the port that prices (very high in early 1881) plunged. 7^ Producers therefore found not only that they had to wait months for payment on their goods, since all transactions ceased for the duration of the dispute, but also that when receipts finally came in they were far lower than originally anticipated.. Many producers 190 who had managed to survive the initial effects of the government's new deflationary policy found themselves victimized by events in Yokohama, and were forced to 80 close.

In the aggregate, the silk-reeling industry actually appears to have weathered the events of 1881 rather well.

Exports of raw silk in 1881 were, despite the problems, the second highest of any year since the Restoration; demand continued unabated. In 1882, they were fully half again as great as the preceding year; and though part of this increase can be attributed to the release of thread held up during the warehouse dispute, most of it was due to productivity 81 gains. Mechanization of the industry was not, on the whole, set back. In Nagano, where the process was being carried out most extensively, the absolute number of filatures remained steady in the early 1880's after a tremendous increase in the late 1870's; filatures were shutting their doors because of the unfavorable economic 82 climate, but others were opening just as rapidly.

Shipments of raw silk to Yokohama from the major production areas in 1882 and 1883 were higher, in most cases 83 substantially so, than they had been in the late 1870's.

Still, this was not immediately apparent; what producers and officials alike could not fail to see was that many filatures were closing down, even if only temporarily, and that neither mechanizing nor staying with the inexpensive 191 zaguri process offered a guarantee of security. Moreover, the dispute in Yokohama, and the aftermath thereof, indicated how fragile the whole trade structure was, how harmful the effects of any disruption of exports could be. There were those who, anticipating just such an eventuality, had begun to export directly to the West rather than through merchants in Yokohama; but they found that this route was no less 84 hazardous. And finally, the problem of quality remained as intractable as ever: in 1880, the Japanese consulate in

New York submitted a report on raw silk sales in the increasingly vital American market; the report referred to deficiencies virtually identical to those mentioned in earlier analyses, observed that Japan's raw silk was rated very poorly and her merchants subjected to ridicule on this account in the United States, and predicted, as numerous other reports had done, a bleak future for the silk market unless measures were taken to improve quality.

Things were not yet out of hand, but in the early

1880's it seemed possible that they might become so. The

Meiji government, like others bent on industrialization, was always distinctly cold-blooded in its approach to rural society, but at the same time it could ill afford to let the silk industry, firmly planted in the countryside, falter. As a result, the central government began to take cautious, tentative steps toward resuming a more active role in determining the industry's fortunes. In May 1883, the 192

Ministry of Agriculture and Commerce sponsored a meeting of

the major silk wholesalers and some of the more prominent

producers from nineteen prefectures to discuss problems

facing the silk-reeling industry, possibilities for improving

production methods, trade patterns since the opening of the

ports, and ways to expand sales to the West. The last-named

topic was foremost in the minds of officials attending the

meeting, and when they spoke they were not chary of letting

it be known. The Vice Minister of Agriculture and Commerce

stressed the significance of raw silk as an export item, said

there ought to be more of it, and— rather unsubtly— told his

listeners that they were responsible for making whatever changes were needed.Finance Minister Matsukata also

spoke, emphasizing in even more specific terms the crucial contribution of silk exports to the nation's welfare. He then offered a lengthy defense of his deflationary policies,

insisting that they were necessary to cure Japanese of their

laziness and fondness for luxuries and speculative ventures;

after due apologies to producers for the trouble his policies had caused them, he forecast better times ahead— provided, of 87 course, that they were even more industrious than before.

Although it had arranged the meeting in the first place, the government was obviously trying to keep to a minimum any commitments it might make to the industry. But

the officials' words were hardly what the participants wanted

to hear; lofty references to the silk industry's importance 193 to the national well-being were, by this time, stale rhetoric, . and suggestions that the solution to the industry's problems was up to the private sector reflected just the kind of attitude which, participants thought, had led to the current situation. As a result, speaker after speaker spoke of the silk industry in his prefecture as still reeling from the effects of the recession— a recession whicn, as everyone knew, the government had deliberately provoked. They also maintained that the quality of their raw silk had improved substantially under the inspection system in effect between

1873 and 1877, but that it had deteriorated once the central 88 government revoked its regulations. The latter, at least, was more distortion than fact, but the message was clear; if the government wanted advances in quality, it had better reintroduce rules to that end; if it wanted increases in quantity, it had better offer producers something more than words (i.e., financing) to make it possible.

The participants, particularly those who were raw silk producers, were virtually unanimous in their desire for much greater activity by the government on behalf of the silk-reeling industry. Officials from the Ministry of

Agriculture and Commerce responded to the effect that such activity was less important than that producers themselves endeavor to improve their procedures and to work collectively to that end; in reference to the earlier inspection system, one official blandly observed that, as far as he knew, "those 194

89 regulations were harmful to the industry." The

government* s defense was feeble, and obviously at odds with

the sentiment of those it had invited to the meeting; but

this did not matter since no one could force it to act once

it chose not to.. As a result, the meeting ended without

anything of real consequence having been decided. After a

final discussion, the participants did draw up a list of

proposals for the industry, which they asked the government

to consider: the establishment of a national silk

organization to function as a communications center for the

industry; the formation of regional producers' associations;

the establishment of regional branches of public banks to

provide bills of exchange for producers; the establishment of

an inspection center in Yokohama to check outgoing raw silk;

the issuance of labeling standards; and the creation of an

institution in Yokohama to help capital-short producers of 90 superior thread export their product directly to the Jest..

Most of the proposals were reasonable enough. There had been problems in the past because of the unavailability

of accurate information on silk markets in the West; and the

forced reliance on Western merchants for this had been a

factor behind the Yokohama dispute, since the merchants

enjoyed almost exclusive access to reports from overseas, and 91 were able to manipulate this to their advantage.

Small-scale private producers' cooperatives had already been

set up in some areas, and had been moderately successful in 195

improving production quality and in providing producers with 92 a certain degree of security.. Financing had been woefully neglected by the government ; as one participant at the meeting indignantly pointed out, even the limited funds available through national banks carried exorbitant interest charges of at least twenty per cent, and were therefore beyond the reach of most producers.Japan was one of the

few silk-producing nations without an inspection center operated by, or in cooperation with, the central government..

Indeed, the only issue with which the government could seriously, if not successfully, take issue was that concerning direct exports; this had been tried before by producers in several prefectures, and in every case had run 94 into trouble. Despite the fundamentally sound nature of what was proposed, however, the central government was not yet prepared to commit itself, especially since the proposals would have required a substantial outlay of funds; whatever expectations the meeting had aroused on the part of producers, the result was a virtual confirmation of the status quo. A silk producers' organization (Dai Nihon Sanshi

Kyokai) was established after the meeting, but without government support its functions were nominal at best; a 95 director was not even chosen until May 1884.

The government's attempt to continue to restrict its ties, financial and otherwise, with the silk-reeling industry did not last very long. There was, for one thing. 195 increasingly less reason to hold to this attitude: the government had succeeded in putting its economic and political houses in order by the mid 1880's, the recession had largely ended, and a more activist approach began to seem more feasible and sustainable. Moreover, pressure in this direction continued to mount. Some of it was predictable: silk producers again asked for help at a meeting in June

1884, and in December of that year Dai Nihon Sanshi Kyokai asked the government to sponsor direct exports to the United

States and to secure for it reports on the American silk 96 market. But calls for more activity also came from within the government itself: regional officials of the

Ministry of Agricultural and Commerce, meeting in Tokyo in

June 1884, asked the Ministry to issue guidelines for silk producers' associations as soon as possible; and a report on the silk-reeling industry, drawn up by an official in the

Ministry and submitted later that year, advocated a much greater degree of activity on the part of the government, as well as a massive infusion of capital to help what was portrayed as a seriously ailing industry.?^

Probably more important than any of this in its influence on the central government was the fact that by the mid-1880's the prefectures were already laying the groundwork for anything Tokyo might do. Like the han before them, the prefectures were more aware of economic conditions in their area, and less reluctant to take action when it seemed 197

necessary.> In April 1884, the Nagano government ordered that

associations be set up by raw silk producers in each county

to promote product standardization and to inspect all thread;

response was slow until the prefecture issued guidelines the

following year, but thereafter associations were quickly

organized and a main office,, directed by prefectural 98 appointees, was set up in Nagano-cho. As noted above,

Gunma acted even more quickly, abolishing its prior

regulations and issuing guidelines for producers of silk

thread and silkworms in July 1884; within a month,

associations were formed and inspection procedures for sage 99 ito were drawn up. Gifu did likewise, establishing guidelines and overseeing the formation of producers'

associations in mid-1884, as did Saitama and Miyagi shortly

thereafter.

The central government bestowed its imprimatur on

this local activity by issuing general guidelines for

industrial associations in November 1884; by so doing,, it

also let it be known that it was no longer averse to

involving itself with regulations and the like.^^^ But the

guidelines, intended as they were to cover agriculture,

commerce and manufacturing, were amorphous at best; something

more specific was desired by the silk industry.

Consequently, when silk producers met once again with

officials of the Ministry of Agriculture and Commerce in June

1885, it was a foregone conclusion that guidelines for the 198

industry would be drawn up, and that some form of

officially-sponsored producers' association would be

created. The issue was not whether guidelines would be

forthcoming— everyone assumed that, and the officials said

nothing to contradict them— but when, and in what form. The

ensuing debate was marked by considerable disagreement among producers, as should have been expected in view of the fact

that the development of all aspects of silk production varied

enormously from region to region; it was also, though neither officials nor producers chose to recognize it, symptomatic of trouble to come.

The most prominent issue at the meeting, as defined by a Ministry official in his opening remarks, was just how

specific any guidelines issued by the central government ought to be. For purposes of ensuring a steady export market, there was much to be said for making guidelines as precise as possible in order to achieve some degree of product uniformity. Western silk weavers used mostly

standardized machinery, and this is turn demanded raw silk of

reasonably uniform thickness, weight and binding; yet exports

from Japan varied widely in all of these areas. A plethora

of silkworm varieties available in the country resulted in marked differences in the degree of fineness and luster, as well as in weight, of silk thread. The problem was

exacerbated by the fact that reeling and binding techniques

also varied tremendously, even within individual 199 prefectures. Complaints from the West were, the Ministry official said, chronic on these points, and the result had been to keep the price for Japan's raw silk lower than it 102 might have been.

The last point was one that concerned all the participants; everyone wanted higher prices, and for that reason supported the idea of product standardization. Beyond that, however, they disagreed on how it ought to be carried out, and even whether it was actually achievable. One obvious way to bring about a greater degree of thread uniformity, as one speaker suggested, was to limit silkworm production to a few similar strains; but others noted that this would cause serious, if temporary, dislocations in areas which were just getting started in the silk-reeling industry and which therefore relied on cocoon shipments from throughout the nation, and in areas where silk reeling was so extensive that producers relied heavily on cocoons produced elsewhere. Furthermore, it was noted, climatic and geographical conditions differed so widely that silkworm strains suitable for some areas would be impractical in others; this being the case, attempts to set national standards might be counterproductive and lead to a drop in production.

Similarly, participants disagreed on the efficacy of nationwide standards for binding thread, some advocating measures to this end, others pointing out, with considerable 200

justification, that any action taken in this area amounted to

a largely cosmetic improvement, that the important problem

was less how silk thread was bound than how it was 104 reeled. No one disputed this latter point, but the

issue then became one of inspection procedures: whether they

should be carried out most vigorously at the local level, or

at a center in Yokohama; whether inspection should be done by

local associations or by a separate, government-run office;

and whether inspection should be compulsory, involving the

imposition of penalties for substandard products. In these areas as well participate disagreed.Their differences of opinion, it should be noted, involved less the notion of cent’' lized control than the efficacy of nation-wide

standards.

An equally pressing issue at the meeting was that of the structure of the proposed organization, and even prior to this time it was apparent that there was no lack of divergent opinion here. Both Gunma and Nagano had specifically

restricted their prefectural associations to the silk-reeling

industry, because functional specialization in this aspect of

silk production was relatively well-developed in the regions and because, from a practical financial standpoint, it was their principal object of concern. But in other prefectures, the typical pattern was still for all aspects of production

to be done together, and governments here had accordingly provided that their associations cover all stages, from 201

silkworm egg production to thread reeling. Thus, when the

participants at the meeting discussed whether one association

was appropriate for the entire industry, or whether separate

associations— for silk reeling, silkworm egg preparation, and

for silkworm and cocoon cultivation— should be established,

differences of opinion generally reflected regional

variations in the state of the industry as a whole.

Participants also disagreed over which stage of silk production most needed organization and regulation, some

suggesting, for example, that silkworm cultivators would best be left unsupervised, some viewing this process as in greater need of control than any other.

That the meeting was marked by agreement only on the need for a national organization, and by disagreement on

every issue of substance, was inevitable. The participants

included two raw silk producers from Nagano, five from Gunma,

and at least one from each of other major production areas; but altogether there were over sixty participants, as a

result of which the sentiments expressed reflected those of

the silk industry as a whole, but not especially of the

industry where it mattered. There was little the government could have done about this; the meeting took place after a national exhibition to which people in the silk industry

throughout the nation had contributed their wares, and to have excluded some prefectures from the ensuing discussion would have been impolitic indeed. This meant, however, that 20 2 the guidelines which the participants eventually adopted, and which the government issued in November 1885 without alteration, did not necessarily reflect what producers in the most strategic areas wanted.

The guidelines called for the establishment of producers' associations at the local level, of a prefectural office to oversee these, and of a national producers' association office to supervise the entire structure. As a palliative to those who wanted a fairly loose organization, the guidelines granted prefectures leeway in determining the geographical boundaries of local associations, and allowed for division within associations (but not separate associations) for silkworm raising and silk reeling. They also permitted the prefectures to issue their own guidelines and to operate with considerable independence in the administration of their own associations; but the former was a meaningless gesture since provincial guidelines had to conform to the national ones, and the latter resulted, as we shall see, on an ultimately destructive check on the national association office (Sanshigyo Kumiai Chûôbu, established June

1886). At the same time, it should be noted, the guidelines mandated affiliation on the part of anyone involved in the silk industry with their local association, ordered inspection at the local and national level of all raw silk, regardless of the method of manufacture, and set fines for non-compliance. They also included, for the first time, very 203

specific criteria for inspecting thread; certification seals

were to be issued at the local level for all produce

conforming to the criteria, and producers of substandard

goods were to be fined. Inspection was free, though a small

charge was to be assessed for the certification seals in

order to pay for the local associations' operating 107 expenses.

î'Jhatever their weaknesses, and despite the circumstances under which they were drawn up, the guidelines were tougher and more comprehensive than any other measures taken since the beginning of the Meiji era. Still, issuing them was one thing, making them work was quite another; having gone as far as the former, the Meiji government proceeded to stand back once again— and see the whole structure collapse. The Ministry of Agriculture and Commerce had, in fact, carefully limited its participation, once the meeting was over, to supervision of the national association office, and even here its role was nominal, amounting to the lOS bestowal of very little money and even less support.

Yet support, especially at the national level, was precisely what the system required if it were to be successful; the national office had no power to issue directives or injunctions on its own, but rather had to ask the Ministry to issue them on its behalf. Cooperation in this regard was not forthcoming: shortly after it opened, the national office asked the Ministry to rescind a proviso in the guidelines 204

which had exempted from the regulations those who produced

silk products for home use, because, the office noted, people

were using this as a loophole to avoid inspection of retail

goods, and the result had been much trouble for many of the

local associations. The Ministry ignored the request, as it 109 did again in October when the office resubmitted it.

Thus emasculated, the national office was unable from

the start to exercise any control over the system it was

supposed to head, or to deal with the tensions and variations glossed over in the central government's guidelines.

Challenges to its authority came almost immediately, the

first from a source the office was probably least capable of handling, the Yokohama wholesalers. This group, whose membership was constantly changing but which as an aggregate had managed to dominate the silk trade since the early Meiji years, had grown even more powerful since establishing its own raw silk inspection center in the late 1870's, and it was not about to give its power up. Since the central government's guidelines had specified that retailers as well as producers join associations, the wholesalers had duly set up their own association office in March, 1886.^^^ But when the national office announced in June that it was establishing its own inspection center in Yokohama, any prospects for cooperation from the wholesalers vanished.

Since late 1877, the wholesalers had monopolized

inspection, such as it was, in Yokohama; and though this duty 205

(as they called it) had had its ups and downs, on the whole it had been immensely profitable for them, allowing them to control almost all sales of silk products to Western merchants. The new inspection center was a direct— and deliberate— assult on what the wholesalers regarded as one of their perquisites, and they reacted accordingly; knowing full well that the government, which had tolerated if not encouraged their domination in the past, would not stand by the national association office, they simply refused to recognize the letter's legitimacy. Thus when the national office asked for the wholesalers' cooperation in the new system, they replied that, much as they appreciated the communication, their own association was beyond the office's jursidiction, and they were therefore under no obligation to heed its requests. The national office quite properly responded that, under the guidelines announced by the

Ministry of Agriculture and Commerce, the wholesalers were indeed subject to its control; but without support from the

Ministry to back it up, the office could take no action to press its claims.It persisted in sending dispatches— all similar to the above, all ignored— to the wholesalers through much of 1886; it sent its own directors to deal with the wholesalers, who conveniently managed to be unavailable at the time; and it formally asked the Ministry to issue a notice reaffirming the office's jurisdiction over 112 all associations. All to no avail: the Ministry 206 offered no help, the stand-off continued, the wholesalers went about business as usual, and the national office was even weaker than before.

Nor was Yokohama the only source of trouble for the system; rumblings of discontent soon began emanating from the prefectures as well. One of the first trouble spots was

Nagano— a turn of events which was by no means accidental, since by this time raw silk producers in the prefecture were rather heavily dependent on the Yokohama wholesalers for financing, and stood to lose plenty should the letter's power be diminished. In July 1886, the prefectural association office sent one of its members, Sato Hachiroemon, to Yokohama to examine procedures at the national office's inspection center; finding things not to his liking, Sato complained to the national office. Noncommital responses from the latter led Sato to conclude that there was little to gain under the system, and in October representatives of Nagano's local associations met and announced their decision to sever ties 113 with the national organization. The central government's guidelines had, as noted above, afforded the prefectures considerable freedom in determining the structure of their own associations; at the same time, there was no provision for withdrawal from the national system, though in the end this would be of no consequence unless the government was willing to enforce the rules— which by this time it clearly was not. 207

Following the announcement, Nagano sent two of its association's directors to Tokyo to confer with the national office, and extended, frequently angry negotiations between the two sides lasted a month. Since it had no alternative, the national office adopted a rather obsequious attitude, soliciting Nagano's suggestions for improving the system; the representatives advised that the national office provide more financial support for local associations and, significantly, that it shut down the newly-opened inspection center.

Understandably, the national office refused, and the Nagano representatives thereupon took their case to the Ministry of

Agriculture and Commerce, which simply let it be known that it did not wish to become part of the fracas. Further discussions with the national office produced results no more to the representatives' liking, and so prior to their departure from Tokyo in late October they had published in five newspapers the prefectural association's declaration of withdrawal. The action was as much symbol as substance, since the national office refused to recognize the validity of Nagano's action, and representatives from the prefecture attended a national association meeting the following 114 year. Still, discontent in Nagano continued to mount, and not only because of ties with the Yokohama wholesalers.

In November 1887, the Suwa county association, whose membership accounted for the highest output of raw silk for any county in the nation, issued an exceptionally harsh 208 critique of the system: The associations have been in existence for two years now, and they have proved to be not only unprofitable, but an obstacle to raw silk production. The structure of the associations seems to be misguided, and they trap us in so much red tape that we are like Chinese women with our feet bound, unable to move at will. The associations should be reorganized, and at least made voluntary. . . . Inspectors for the system do not inspect at all, but rather simply affix certification seals. Proper inspection requires time and (qualified) personnel; at present, the only objective seems to be to collect payment for the seals, without regard for the quality of the product. It is very difficult for a filature to produce silk thread of uniformly high quality, yet inspection seals are issued routinely to hundreds of operations in our prefecture. Producers whose raw silk is of superior quality often suffer huge losses as a result, and foreign merchants hesitate to buy our wares when they see the inspection seal on them.

The Ueda county association lodged a similar complaint in

July 1888, charging, among other things, that the inclusion of all stages of silk production into one association was irrational.

Opposition from Nagano, because of its preeminent position in the silk-reeling industry, would probably have been enough to cripple the entire association structure irreparably. But the grumbling was more widespread and, worst of all in terms of the system's ability to survive, it was coming from other important production areas as well.

When in Tokyo in October 1886, the Nagano representatives had found that other prefectures had also sent people to complain about the system.One such prefecture was Fukushima, also a major production area, and though in this case opposition was centered more on rules drawn up at the 209

prefectural level, in practical terms its effect on the Tig system as a whole was just as injurious. That a large

percentage of raw silk was bypassing the national office's

inspection center was apparent when, in August 1386, the

office asked the Ministry of Agriculture and Commerce, in

vain as usual, to take steps to see that this part of the 119 guidelines was enforced. Even Gunma, which for some

time had remained quiet, became a source of discontent in

early 1888: a meeting of representatives from county associations turned into a debate on the efficacy and necessity of the entire assocation and inspection system, and resulted in a decision to ask the central government to reduce the scope of the system drastically. It was argued that regional variations in silk production techniques were

too great to make the system workable; that inspection of good silk thread was "unnecessary intervention," and

inspection of bad thread was "blind certification," so perfunctory that serious problems in production could not possibly be detected; and that the whole inspection process was needlessly expensive, and so time-consuming that people

frequently lost the opportunity to take advantage of 120 favorable market conditions in retailing their wares.

The central government declined to take any action on

Gunma's request— the one instance where its passivity actually worked to the advantage of the system. But at this point it made no difference: the national office was 210 opposed, quite effectively, by precisely those whose support was crucial, the Yokohama wholesalers and the major production areas. Without their support, and without any help from the Ministry of Agriculture and Commerce to counterbalance their opposition, it was fruitless to prolong the life of a system which increasingly functioned in name only. The national office therefore closed its doors in

March 1389, and with this the system, for all intents and 121 purposes, ceased to function. Nagano, for one, unilaterally eliminated its provincial guidelines in May of that year, and told producers to do as they pleased. Other areas apparently did likewise, since at a meeting of silk producers in December 1893, a resolution was adopted which noted that "there is no unity whatsoever in our industry," and the producers subsequently advised the Ministry of

Agriculture and Commerce to abolish the guidelines it had 122 issued because "most of them are useless." Never one to act precipitously, the Ministry did not bestir itself to do as suggested until 1898; but at that point the action was meaningless, and the government's procrastination simply highlighted the fact that, as far as the silk-reeling industry was concerned, it did not much matter what the 123 government said or did. Significantly, the next time producers decided they wanted some sort of unity, they asked the government for help in the areas of export promotion and tax support, but let it be known that they were going to do 211

124 the organizing themselves.

The central government's failure to lend any real

support to the national association was at variance with its

renewed willingness to issue production guidelines; but the

contradiction reflects a shrewd appreciation of political

realities on the part of officials in Tokyo. Guidelines were

something almost everyone connected with the silk industry

wanted in one form or another, and it therefore made political sense for the government to see that they were

drawn up. Not to have done so at this point would have put public officials in the awkward position of appearing

unconcerned with, or uncommitted to, qualitative improvements

in Japan's raw silk output, and would also have exposed them

to criticism on that count from both domestic producers and

Western purchasers. But the government's enthusiasm for measures designed to regulate production methods was

circumscribed throughout the Meiji period by the perceived

necessity to increase raw silk exports. An improvement in

silk-reeling techniques was of far less consequence for the

government than the industry's ability to sell its output on

the export market. By the mid-1880's, exports of raw silk

were once again increasing at a brisk pace, and prices were

going up as well. That being the case, the central

government simply saw further regulatory activity as

unnecessary, and while it sectioned the appearance of

regulation, it did little to see that any action of substance 212

was carried out.

Promotion of the Silk-Reeling Industry

If regulation of the silk-reeling industry was one

side of the coin of official policy, promotion of the

industry was the other. Indeed, both were done with the same

objectives in mind: the expansion of raw silk exports and a

guarantee of high prices for the commodity on the

international market. Logically, the two aspects of policy

were inseparable, as the government recognized: it would not

do to succeed in vastly increasing raw silk production if the

quality was so bad that export prices went down or, even

worse, if Westerners refused to buy it; yet on the other hand, relatively small amounts of superior raw silk might

enhance Japan's reputation, but would do little to bring in

the foreign capital the country desperately needed.

Promoting the silk-reeling industry cost money, of course;

but if the result was more money coming in from overseas,

that would not matter. Besides, promotion was politically

expedient: no one was going to complain if the government

was trying to help them; and by so doing the government was

able, as we shall see, to keep a politically crucial segment

of the population pacified. Promotion took a number of

forms, but in terms of scope the two most prominent were

industrial exhibitions to foster communication between

producers, and financial programs to help people establish >■ themselves in one or more aspects of silk production. 213

Between 1877 and 1890, there were several hundred

exhibitions held in Japan, all designed to showcase the

nation's best products and to point the way toward further

technological improvement. Meiji leaders had observed

similar activities while traveling in Europe and the United

States shortly after the Restoration, had zealously sent

their own representatives to exhibitions in Vienna in 1873

and Philadelphia in 1876, and had then decided to have their

own version in Japan. Five national exhibitions were held during this period; two of them, in 1879 and 1885, were devoted almost exclusively to silk products, and all of them were marked by much fanfare and distinguished by the presence, at least for the opening ceremonies, of the appropriate officials from the upper echelons of the government. Much more common, and more modest, were exhibitions sponsored by one or more prefectures in order to make it possible for producers to find out what each other was doing. These affairs, known as kyoshinkai (literally,

"mutual advancement meetings") were the brainchild of

Matsukata Masayoshi, who, after seeing something of this nature in France in 1878, lobbied with the government to have 125 similar functions in Japan. The aforementioned national exhibitions in 1879 and 1885 were also called kyôshinkai, but all other such affairs were held at the prefectural level.

Their frequency during the first two decades of the Meiji era

is apparent when one considers the fact that in 1885 alone 214

over one hundred of them took place.

Some scholars have had very kind words for these

exhibitions, and have seen them as important stimuli to the

growth of Japan's silk industry, especially silk 127 reeling. There is, however, very little concrete

evidence to support this. That the exhibitions were popular, or at least well-attended, seems clear; over one hundred

silk producers from Nagano alone displayed their output at the 1879 exhibition in Yokohama, and at one sponsored the

following year by the Nagano prefectural government, almost

five hundred contributed raw silk displays; there were over sixteen hundred such displays at the national exhibition in 128 1885, which was naturally more selective. These are

impressive figures— but only figures; it is impossible to determine from them to what degree the exhibitions performed anything in the way of an educational function. The 1885 national exhibition, among others, is noteworthy in this respect, since each prefecture's raw silk was meticulously, and often harshly, evaluated on very specific points, and the

results were subsequently published for all to read. In addition, the government brought in a group of experts in silk production at the end of the exhibition to lecture producers on such topics as quality control and testing,

improved machinery (including detailed instructions on how to build some pieces), improved thread binding techniques, and 129 export strategy. 215

Undoubtedly there were people who attended exhibitions, saw that others were producing better raw silk, found out how they did it, and then returned home to try to improve their own operations; some of those whose produce was severly criticized were, if nothing else, shamed into trying to do better. But how common this was cannot be known, because producers who did change rarely explained in writing why they decided to do so; such personal accounts as do exist almost never mention exhibitions, and when they do it is usually a reference to a prize or citation the producer received, and nothing more.^^^ Nor can it be determined with any certainty whether those who did not attend exhibitions, especially the national ones, had access to the information and techniques available to those who did take part. It seems very likely that information was indeed shared, since the traditional rural tendency to cooperate rather than compete was still very strong, and since prefectural representatives to the national exhibitions were typically the more successful raw silk producers of their area, men who had, or were thought to have, a good deal of expertise, and to whom the ordinary producer very frequently looked for advice. But again, there are almost no records to indicate just how much of the information and technology that producers disseminated among themselves was actually based on 131 what was done or seen at the exhibitions. 216

It is clear, however, that there was some dissatisfaction with the exhibitions, and that this was true of both producers and the government. At the meeting in 1885 which led to the issuance of the central government's association guidelines, and which followed the national exhibition of that year, producers generally praised the

functions, and particularly the meetings that sometimes accompanied them, as helpful and informative, but suggested that the national exhibitions were considerably less influential than the local ones since participation was of necessity rather limited and since, as one observer aptly pointed out, the people who actually reeled silk— i.e., 131 women— were never able to attend.

The government, for its part, complained about an even more fundamental problem: bogus displays. Indeed, this was a problem from the start. Hayami Kenzo submitted a report to the government after the first national exhibition, in which he criticized many of the silk products shown there as "counterfeit" goods which, though of high quality, did not accurately reflect the typical output of those who presented them, and therefore offered public officials no clues as to 133 how well, if at all, the industry was developing. The problem did not go away: as late as 1894, a government spokesman complained at a national silk producers' conference that producers too often exhibited goods made expecially for display purposes, or bought superior merchandise from others 217 and exhibited it as their own; such abuses, he said, were

"too numerous to mention," and unless they were corrected, exhibitions "would serve no useful purpose.

These criticisms suggest that the government was not interested in having the exhibitions serve as grand but contrived displays of the nation's productive capacity; rather, it expected them to provide, at the very least, some information as to what was really going on in the countryside, where all the silk products were being made.

The government also hoped, as the lectures it sponsored in

1885 indicate, that the exhibitions would help to promote improvements in, and mechanization of, the silk-reeling industry; it had, after all, endorsed mechanization as the ultimate solution to the industry's problems as far back as

1870, and it was therefore only logical that the exhibitions should be used to this end.

But in fact the exhibitions themselves reflected a measure of restraint in this regard, an unwillingness on the part of the government to press the case for mechanization too far or too fast. Raw silk from Tomioka Filature, by far the most sophisticated silk-reeling operation in the nation, was very seldom displayed at these affairs, even though it would have been a simple matter for the government, which owned the place, to see that this was done, or to arrange a demonstration of its machinery. Even more revealing are the criteria used by the government for the evaluation of the raw 213 silk displays and for the awarding of citations. Those who produced thread of high quality by machine were consistently praised for their achievements, particularly if they attempted to persuade others to adopt their method; but the government accorded similar praise to producers who used the traditional zaguri reeling process as long as their raw silk 135 was of high quality. No attempt was made to distinguish between the two, to suggest that mechanized production was preferable. Moreover, although all raw silk at the exhibitions was evaluated according to quality, the concept of quality was defined in a very narrow and specific sense, in terms of the commodity's ability to satisfy the demands of

Western purchasers and to sell well on the export market.

This may indeed have been a sufficiently rigorous definition, since the Western market was, to all appearances, more exacting with regard to quality than domestic weavers were.

But the result was that, to the government of Japan, it did not matter how raw silk was made as long as the West bought it; if satisfactory silk thread could be produced by the less expensive— and therefore less risky— zaguri process, so much the better.

That other considerations took priority over mechanization in the government's policy toward the silk- reeling industry is also evident in the way funds were dispersed from the treasury; in this case, though, the problem was not the export market, but politics. Between 219

1870 and 1889, the central government distributed large sums of money in the name of industrial promotion; much of this went to merchants with long-standing ties to local governments, to banks which handled public funds, and to private firms that enjoyed a cozy relationship with the governmentThe rest of the funds went to individuals and small groups interested in setting up their own businesses, and since a substantial proportion of this money— about 1,500,000 yen, or twenty per cent of the total— utlimately went to people engaged in one or more aspects of silk production, it ought reasonably to have had 137 substantial effects on the industry. But it did not, because industrial promotion took second place to a more pressing concern, pacification of the restless warrior class, now disenfranchised and the single most potent threat to the new regime's political stability.

Most of the funds received by the warrrior class went out between 1878 and 1889. The government clearly attached great importance to helping this particular group, since over half of the money it gave them was distributed in the early

1880's, a time otherwise marked by drastic fiscal retrenchment. To a certain degree, procedures for the disbursement of funds were strict: those requesting money had to go through their prefectural government, which would submit the request to Tokyo only if the proposed use of funds seemed likely to succeed; the central government in turn 220 decided on the basis of its own feasibility assessment and on the amount of funds already distributed to the area. Most requests were rejected; those that succeeded usually did so only after repeated attempts, and the amount of money was usually far less than what was asked for; recipients were also required to submit annual reports on the state of their ventures to the local government. Beyond that, and in practice, the government was rather lenient. The money was, in theory, lent to the bushi; but very few of them had to put up collateral for the loans, interest rates were nominal for those going into the silk industry, and recipients were not required to begin repaying either the interest or the X38 principal for at least three years, usually much longer.

Almost one-fourth of all funds that went to bushi was given to those in the silk industry, a substantially higher 139 amount than for those in any other line of work. The silk industry was attractive to both sides: to the government, because the various stages of silk production required a lower initial capital investment than many other industries and also tended to require a substantial work force, so that a relatively large number of people could be put to work at a relatively low cost; and to the bushi, because the industry enjoyed a certain amount of prestige, the government having often said how important silk exports were to the national welfare, and because there was a well-established precedent for the warrior class to go into 22 1

silk production as a source of income. For both sides, the overriding concern was financial. The government wanted to keep as many bushi occupied as possible with a minimal outlay of capital; the bushi wanted to made ends meet, and they did not much care how they went about it. This being the case, whether the funds which the government distributed actually contributed to the growth or technological development of the

silk industry was a relatively minor issue.

Although there were some exceptions to the general rule— the most notable being a loan of 300,000 yen to bushi in Gunma to help them export raw silk directly to the 140 West — most of the bushi who received money for silk production received very small amounts, enough to get them started but not enough to set up sophisticated operations, even had they had the expertise. Most of those who turned to silk reeling, consequently, relied on the traditional zaguri process rather than the mechanized methods supposedly preferred by the central government; this use of zaguri reeling had the advantage of being somewhat less likely to fail (the lower the initial investment, the fewer the chances of severe financial loss), but meant that the impact of the outlay of funds in terms of industrial promotion was dubious at best. And this impact, such as it might have been, was further limited by the geographical apportionment of the money. By the early 1880's at the latest, it was obvious that the silk industry, particularly silk reeling, was 222 becoming unusually concentrated in a few contiguous prefectures on the main island of Honshu; yet government

funding did not reflect this at all, and was, if anything, in defiance of the trend. Some of these prefectures, especially

Gunma and Nagano, did receive substantial funds, but in both cases most of the money went to one or two large operations run cooperatively by groups of bushi, and hence had little 141 effect on the industry as a whole. Equal or greater amounts of money went to such prefectures as Kumamoto,

Nagasaki and Oita— areas which were hardly noted for silk production but which were on the island of Kyushu, where the bushi's bitterness over government policies was most . ^ 142 intense.

In some instances, the loans paid off. Nagano's

Rokkusha (see chapter 2), for example, used the fifteen thousand yen it received to double its production capacity, 143 and did well thereafter ; there were cases in prefectures without any silk industry to speak of where bushi were able to establish sizeable silk-reeling operations, albeit zaguri 144 ones, and to expand over time. But these were the exceptions. Most of the bushi were, by both tradition and inclination, ill-suited for the business world in which they suddenly found themselves; they lacked the kind of commercial acumen and entrepreneurial drive that characterized others during the period. Some did not even use the funds as they 145 were supposed to , and even the more ambitious and 223

moneyed of them who ventured into mechanized silk reeling

usually failed. One such group of bushi set up an operation

based on Tomioka Filature and hired a woman who had trained

there as instructor; her observations about the owners are

revealing, and probably quite typical;

(They) knew nothing about silk reeling and spent half the day chatting and the other half reading the newspaper. They left cocoon purchasing and thread reeling entirely in the hands of their employees. They never bothered to find out anything about the international silk market, let alone that in Yokohama; when market reports did come in, they went unopened for days. The managers took advantage of their employers' inexperience, and did all sorts of unscrupulous things; rewards and penalties, for example, were dispensed to the workers according to whim . . . .The machinery was not uniform, among other things, and parts broke down everywhere once reeling began . . . .The result was thread of poor quality that would be very difficult to process. When I asked one of the owners to repair the equipment, he refused, saying that since the machinery was based on that at a government filature there could not possibly be problems.

This particular operation fell so deeply in the red that it had to shut down, and could not even find buyers for its 146 by-then very decrepit machinery.

The silk industry was not the only scene of failure

on the part of the bushi, and the government was aware that

the entire financial aid program for the group was not

working out quite as intended; it admitted as much when it

stated, in an industrial survey published by the Ministry of

Agriculture and Commerce in 1884, that many of them failed,

primarily because they were venturing into businesses in which they had no experience.Still, cutting off the

loans, or demanding repayment as scheduled, was politically 224 unpalatable; even Hayami Kenzo, an otherwise vociferous opponent of government financing, told the Ministry of

Agriculture and Commerce in 1881 that the government should be lenient toward the bushi, and that unless repayment was 148 deferred most of them would go bankrupt. Recognizing that it had no alternative, the government announced a

"settlement" of the loans in 1889 that amounted, in fact, to their commutation. Those recipients whose operations seemed to have some chance of success were ordered to pay back a small percentage of the loan and were granted deferrals for the remainder for up to ninety years— which meant, in effect, that they would not have to pay; hopeless cases, by far the 149 majority, were simply absolved of debt altogether. In the end, the government got almost no money back, the silk industry (among others) was none the better for the influx of funds, and many non-bushi who needed the money just as much and who could have put it to more profitable use went ignored. The loan program was a success only insofar as it kept the bushi employed, however precariously, and therefore quiet.

Alternatives; Hayami Kenz5 and Government Policy

To try to see behind the government's policy toward the silk industry during the first two decades of the Meiji era a consistent rationale of any kind is probably to give that policy more credit than is due. It was, in fact, not 225 one policy but a series of policies, characterized by trial and error, by makeshift solutions, or attempts at solution,

to problems as they arose. There was no single long-range policy with regard to silk production itself; although the government was nominally committed to the mechanization of

the silk-reeling industry, and did on occasion take steps to promote it, in general its support for this objective was qualified by other considerations that, at least in the short run, were deemed more important. The one consistent feature

in policy was a tendency to view favorably anything that contributed to the growth of the export market. Hence the official tolerance of the persistence of zaguri reeling, especially when the thread thus produced was "improved" by being rereeled and bound as machine-made thread was; it was not quite what the government had in mind in the beginning, but it was apparently, despite grumbling from some quarters both domestic and foreign, enough to satisfy most Western buyers.

Even the government's attempts at quality control reflect this preoccupation with the export market. Official experiments in organizing and regulating the silk industry, particularly raw silk production, always followed on the heels of bleak assessments of the industry's future, falling prices for raw silk on the export market, and, to a lesser extent, demands by producers for protection and guidance of some sort. The government became involved not because 226

officials especially wanted such a policy, but because not to

do so threatened to imperil Western demand for Japan's raw

silk and, as a result, the government's most important source

of foreign capital. Then, when the situation began to

improve— when complaints were less frequent and when prices

went up— the government lost enthusiasm. Quality had not

substantially improved, but the market had. Other factors,

it must be added, were at work here as well. Each time the

government tried to regulate the industry, but particularly

in 1873 and 1886, it was soon apparent that the kind of complex structure mandated by the rules it had issued would not work unless backed up by official muscle, which the government was unwilling and, in a financial sense, probably unable to add. It was also clear that getting caught up in

regulation gave the government as many headaches as it

cured. But these were peripheral factors; what mattered most was that the problems that prompted government activity in

the first place seemed, over time, to cure themselves; prices

for raw silk went up, as did demand.

There were officials who disagreed with the approach

the government took; in 1878, Hayami Kenzo reported to Home

Affairs Minister Okubo that deliberations in the government's

sericulture bureau were so chaotic and marked by such rancor

that agreement on substantive issues was impossible. Hayami,

the most articulate and persistent critic of government

intervention in the silk industry, at this point advocated 227 that the government simply leave the industry alone.At

other times, though, he was somewhat more restrained. In

1873 and 1876, Hayami submitted policy proposals which are

important not because they were subsequently adopted (they were not), but because they suggested a limited but potentially effective way for the government to steer the

silk industry toward orderly development; they were also the only documents drawn up within the government during this period that offered, in very concrete terms, an alternative to the policies that were ultimately adopted.

The two proposals were essentially the same in thrust, though the later one called for a somewhat lesser degree of government activity. Both reflected a strong distaste for direct participation on the part of the government in directing the course of the silk industry's development; officials, Hayami said, were rarely if ever experienced in any aspect of silk production, and therefore were incapable of making the right decisions or, even if they did, persuading producers to follow their lead. Rather, he suggested, the government should select the single best mechanized filature in each of three prefectures— Gunma,

Nagano and Pukushima— provide them with financial support, but not with personnel, and have them act as inspection centers, financing agents, retailers and production models for silk producers in their respective areas. He also suggested that the three operations collectively open a 228 retail outlet in Yokohama, and that they use this not only to assure good prices for silk products but to collect, and subsequently communicate to others, information on changing trade conditions. Western preferences with regard to raw silk, and the like. The government's role would be limited to that of financial backer; all decisions with regard to such problems as quality control and export strategy would be made by the three designated filatures on a collective basis.

It is intriguing to speculate on what might have happened had Hayami's proposals been adopted; it is also, of course, impossible to know whether they would have been any more successful than what was actually done. There were, to be sure, potential problems. Since decisions with regard to financing (in the form of advance payments for goods received) were to be left to the three filatures, their owners might have used this in a discriminatory fashion, lending money to those in their favor rather to those who ought properly to have received it; but this would have been no more discretionary than what the government ultimately did. Inspection at the filatures was not to be compulsory, thus leaving open the possibility that many would bypass the system; but this was offset by the facilities and services, including financing and market information, which were to be offered, and which, if available at all elsewhere, were expensive and difficult to obtain. Moreover, the proposals were noteworthy in that they implicitly took into account. 229 and accepted, the fact that the silk-reeling industry was geographically concentrated; thus, although producers throughout the nation were to have access to the system, the focus was on the major production areas. It is striking that, as early as 1873, Hayami recognized what the government as late as 1886 failed to understand: the futility and waste of attempting to establish a structure that would cover the silk industry throughout the country. Hayami also anticipated in his proposals many of the things producers would later ask for— financing, market reports, retail assistance, etc.; and he was practical enough to realize that an inspection system would not be popularly accepted unless services were offered at the same time. Finally, although

Hayami realistically accepted the persistence of zaguri reeling, the inspection procedures he suggested would, in effect, have both promoted more careful production (by rejecting for export thread below a certain standard and by providing instruction in improved reeling) and encouraged mechanization (by offering easier credit terms for those whose thread was reeled by machine).

However promising, nothing came of Hayami's proposals. The timing, for one thing, was bad: the 1873 proposal was made shortly after the government had begun one inspection system, and was hardly about to change everything as abruptly as Hayami's suggestions would have required; the

1876 proposal came when the government was moving away from 230 attempting to regulate the silk-reeling industry, when it was weary from its first sustained effort in that direction, and when it was faced with serious political problems that all but prohibited the kind of commitment Hayami envisioned.

Hayami himself soon lost interest as his own attention turned to other matters, particularly Tomioka Filature, and he would never again submit such proposals. Consequently, the government continued, through the 1880's, to vacillate between a policy of non-interference and one of regulation and control? neither policy achieved any results of note. In the end, the silk-reeling industry went its own way, devised its own solutions to its problems. The results were mixed: there was certainly no revolution in the industry, nothing on the order of what the government had in mind when, in 1870, it had suggested that the industry itself carry out a large-scale program of modernization. But there was change, a good deal of it, and there was growth. 231

Notes to Chapter III.

^Yokohama Shi, Yokohama shishi, 3, pt. 1:63-64.

2lbid., pp. 65-66.

Sôtsuka, Sanshi, 1:232.

4ibid., p. 235. Edo was renamed Tokyo in July 1868.

Sibid.

^Yokohama Shi, Yokohama shishi, 3, pt. 1:68-70.

?0tsuka, Sanshi, 1:238.

Sibid., pp. 231, 252-54.

^The Foreign Ministry's appeal is quoted in Yokohama Shi, Yokohama shishi, 3, pt. 1:79-80.

lOibid., pp. 80-81.

llNôshômushS NSmukyoku, Sanshigyo ni kansuru sankS shiryd, p. 60.

12ôtsuka, Sanshi, 1:286.

13sano, Dano Nihon sanshi: seishi, p. 277.

l^Yokohami Shi, Yokohama shishi, 3, pt. 1:83.

ISôtsuka, Sanshi, 1:297.

lÔNôshômushô Nômukyoku, Sanshigyo ni kansuru sankô shiryô, p. 60.

^^Representatives were to be chosen from a list of local silk merchants drawn up by the Finance Ministry’s taxation bureau. For communication between Tokyo and Nagano in this regard, see Shinano, SSS, 3:284-86.

18The regulations are reprinted in Ibid., pp 247-49. The only exception to the rules was Tomioka Filature, which was to be directly under Finance Ministry jursidiction.

l^For the rules of the Yokohama inspection center, see Ibid., pp. 287-90; see also Yokohama Shi, Yokohama shishi, 3, pt. 1:87. 232

SOsased on correspondence between the Finance Ministry and the Nagano prefectural government, as reprinted in Shinano, SSS, 3:290-91. Instructions to other prefectures are assumed to have been the same.

2lGunma, GSEC, p. 86.

22sased on figures in Shinano, SSS, 3:294-99; Yokohama Shi, Yokohama shishi, 3, pt. 1:98; and Nôshômushô Nômukyoku, Seishi shijunkai kiji, p. 55. Figures for Nagano include Chikuma prefecture, most of which was incorporated into the former in August 1876. Precise figures for Gunma are unavailable, but it is clear that inspection centers were in operation by the summer of 1873. See Gunma, GSEC, p. 89.

23Yokohama Shi, Yokohama shishi, 3, pt. 1:94.

24guoted in Shinano, SSS, 3:250-51.

25ln Nagano's Suwa county, for example, 756 people purchased licenses in 1873; under the old system, only 113 had. Hirano, HS, 2:125-26.

26por examples, see Gunma, GSEC, pp. 86, 95-96.

27of the three offices in Suwa country (which, because of an exceptionally high volume of production, ought to have had no problems) only one was able to break even. See Hirano, HS, 2:133.

28Nôshômushô Nômukyoku, Sanshigyo ni kansuru sankô shiryô, pp. 60-61.

29see Shinano, SSS, 3:301-5 for rules in Nagano and Chikuma. On the sub-prefectural level, some offices appear to have been stricter in this regard than others; see Ibid., pp. 342-44.

30Qtsuka, Sanshi, 1:246-47.

31see Shinano, SSS, 3:258-60 and Nagano Kenshi Kankôkai, ed. Nagano kenshi kindaishi shirydhen, vol. 5, pt. 3 Sangyô: sanshigyS (Nagano-shi: Nagano Kenshi Kankôkai, 1980), document no. 248:418-20. Gunma confined itself to ritual denunciations of double zaguri reeling as harmful to the national welfare. See Gunma, GSEC, pp. 90, 108.

32tïôshômushô Nômukyoku, Sanshigyo ni kansuru sankô shiryô, pp. 60-61. 233

33por details on these negotiations, see Yokohama Shi, Yokohama shishi, 3, pt. 1:100-107.

34ibid., pp. 108-10; for the text of the order, see Ôtsuka, Sanshi, 1:326.

35Quoted in Yokohama Shi Yokohama shishi, 3, pt. 1 :111-12.

36lbid., p. 112. For the revisions made in Nagano, see Shinano, SSS, 3:325-26. The Nagano centers allowed for voluntary affiliation with the system, but added extremely strict terms for withdrawal.

3?The resolutions are reprinted in Ibid., pp. 330-31.

38Ibid., p. 330; Yokohama Shi, Yokohama shishi, 3: pt. 1:117.

39ibid., p. 118.

40shinano, SSS, 3:310-11.

41Ibid., pp. 269-70.

42Qunma, GSEC, pp. 107-8.

43por the text of the report, see Ôtsuka, Sanshi, 1:348-63.

44îiôshômushô Nômukyoku, Seishi shijunkai kiji, p. 17.

45por example, Ishii, Nihon sanshigyo shi bunseki, pp. 111-112, and Nakamura Masanori, "Kikai seishi no hatten to shokusan kôgyô seisaku," Rekishigaku kenkyu 290 (July 1964):21-22.

46see the speech by Takano Masao of Nagano in Nôshômushô Nômukyoku, Seishi shijunkai kiji, pp. 65-67. Raw silk output of mechanized filatures is based on figures in Shinano, SSS, 3:397-400.

4?see Ibid., p. 297.

48por the rules, and subsequent amendments thereto, drawn up by the Yokohama wholesalers, see Gunma, GSEC, pp. 118-26; see also Yokohama Shi, Yokohama shishi, 3, pt. 1 :120-22.

49cunma, GSEC, p. 121. 234

50Yokohama Shi, Yokohama shishi, 3, pt. 1:122.

5lGunma, GSEC, p. 120.

52see Yokohama Shi, Yokohama shishi, 3, pt. 1:474 for output of raw silk per prefecture for 1876, 1878-1800 and 1386.

53Quoted in Shinano, SSS, 3:360.

54ibid., pp. 361-66.

55%bid., p. 581.

SGibid., pp. 378-87.

57ibid., pp. 458-59, 480-82.

59por Yugisha's rules, see Ibid., pp. 465-74.

GOibid., pp. 477-78.

Gllbid., pp. 436, 475.

62ibid., p. 552.

63por the response of the Chambers of Commerce, see Ibid., pp. 575-77; for the officials' reports, see Nagano Kenshi Kankôkai, Nagano kenshi kindaishi shiryohen, 5, pt. 3, document no. 257:432.

G4ghinano, SSS, 3:578-81.

55Gunma, GSEC, pp. 114-16.

GGlbid., p. 166.

57ishii, Nihon sanshigyo shi bunseki, p. 113.

GScunma, GSEC, pp. 250-52.

59lbid., pp. 260-62.

70lbid., pp. 283-90; Ishii, Nihon sanshigyS shi bunseki, p. 114. Sage ito accounted for 51 per cent of all raw silk shipped to Yokohama in 1879; five years later, it accounted for only 26 per cent. See Yokohama Shi, Yokohama shishi, 3, pt. 1:514.

71shinano, SSS, 3:483-84. 235

72lbid., pp. 453-58.

73ror actions taken by the Gunma prefectural government, see, for example, ^Gunma, GSEC, p. 297; for production figures, see Yokohama Shi, Yokohama shishi, 3, pt. 1:494.

74g@e Ibid., p. 514.

^^Nôshômushô Nômukyoku, Sanshigyo ni kansuru sankô shiryô, pp. 60-61.

7Gln Nagano, the number of mechanized filatures jumped from 50 in 1877 to 359 in 1879; this represented over half the national total. See Kajinishi, Gijutsu hattatsu shi; keikôgyô, p. 133.

7?See remarks in Nôshômushô Nômukyoku, Seishi shijunkai kiji, pp. 23, 31, 71, 79.

78por a detailed account of the Yokohama dispute, see Yokohama Shi, Yokohama shishi, 3, pt. 1:753-98.

79Nôshômushô Nômukyoku, Seishi shijunkai kiji, p. 102.

BOibid., p. 492.

82por the increase in the number of mechanized filatures in Nagano between 1876 and 1881, see figures in Shinano. SSS, 3:233-35(1876), 372-75(1877), 503-22(1879), 524-41(18801 and 584-622(1881).

S^For figures, see Yokohama Shi, Yokohama shishi, 3, pt. 1:475.

84see accounts by those who had tried this route in Nôshômushô Nômukyoku, Seishi shijunkai kiji, pp. 39-40, 110.

G^The report is reprinted in Sano, Dai Nihon sanshi; seishi, pp. 620-26.

SÔNôshômushô Nômukyoku, Seishi shijunkai kiji, pp. 7-8.

87ibid., pp. 8-12.

SSpor comments on the 1873-1877 inspection system, see Ibid., pp. 21-23, 35, 48, 54-55, 65-66 and 68; for comments on the effects of Matsukata's deflationary policy, see Ibid., pp. 23, 31, 39-40, 50, 72, 74 and 77. 236

89ibid., pp. 68, 114-15.

90ibid., pp. 138-39.

9lYokohaina Shi, Yokohama shishi, 3, pt. 1:753-54.

92one apparent exception to this was Yamanashi prefecture, where, according to one observer from the area, periodic attempts at organization were doomed by an unwillingness on the part of producers to cooperate with each other. See Nôshômushô Nômukyoku, Seishi shijunkai kiji, pp. 108-9.

93ibid., p. 57.

94por examples, see Ibid., pp. 39-40, 95.

95ôtsuka, Sanshi, 1:507; Sano, Dai Nihon sanshi: seishi, p. 722. For the director's account of the organization's woes, see Nôshômushô Nômukyoku, éd., Sanshi shüdankai kiji (Tokyo: Yûrindo, 1885), pp. 48-54.

96ôtsuka, Sanshi, 2:9; Sano, Dai Nihon sanshi: seishi, pp. 724-27.

S^Nôshômushô, ed. Kôgyô iken (Tokyo:_ Nôshômushô, 1884; reprinted as vols. 18, 19 and 20 of Ouchi Hyôe and Tsuchiya Takao, eds., Meiji zenki zaisei keizai shiryô shQsei (Tokyo: Kaizo Sha, 1931), 18:765-66.

98ghinano, SSS, 3:636-44.

99por the prefectural guidelines, see Gunma, GSEC, pp. 283-85; for inspection procedures, see Ibid., pp. 288-301.

lOOôtsuka, Sanshi, 2:12, 15-16, 35, 39.

lOliphe central government's general guidelines are reprinted in Gunma, GSEC, pp. 303-5.

lO^Nôshômushô Nômukyoku, Sanshi shüdankai kiji, pp. 102.

103ibid., pp. 13-15, 21-22, 34.

104ibid., pp. 24-26, 36-39.

105ibid., 14-15, 22-23, 30, 33-36.

106%bid., pp. 41-61 passim. 237

lO^see Gunma, GSEC, pp. 325-29, 335-45, and Otsuka, Sanshi, 2:65-68.

lOSibid., p. 84.

109lbid., p. 85.

llOlbid., P- 79.

llllbid.. p. 86.

112ibid., p. 100.

113lbid., pp. 87, 95.

114%bid., pp. 95-99.

llSpQj- the Suwa county association's statement, see Shinano, SSS, 3:668-70.

llGgee Ibid., p. 660.

117ôtsuka, Sanshi, 2:95.

llSsee Yokohama Shi, Yokohama shishi, 3, pt. 1:83-87 for a discussion of events in Fukushima.

î-l^Ôtsuka, Sanshi, 2:88.

120gQQ Gunma, GSEC, pp. 374-76 for a summary of the debate.

i2l5tsuka, Sanshi, 2:82.

122Quoted in Gunma, GSEC, pp. 455-56, 458.

123ibid., p. 472.

124gee otsuka, Sanshi, 2:232-34. The new organization, Dai Nihon Sanshikai, was established in April 1892; that this was done well prior to the abolition of the guidelines is a further indication of their irrelevance at this point.

125%mai, Nihon sangyô hattatsu shi, p. 51.

126sased on information in Ôtsuka, Sanshi, 2:63.

127TWO notable examples are Takahashi Keizai Kenkyujo, Nihon sanshigyo hattatsu shi, pp. 323-24, and Kajinishi, S e n 'i, p. 103. 238

128Based on figures in Nagano Kencho Kangyoka, ed., "Dai ikkai kyoshinkai shinkokusho" (Nagano: Nagano Kencho Kangyoka, 1881), Nagano Kencho Noshokyoku, ed., "Meiji jüni nen kiito mayu kyoshinkai ikken" (Nagano: Nagano Kencho, 1880), and Nôshômushô Nômukyoku and Kômukyoku, eds., Kenshi orimono toki kyoshinkai bansa hôkoku (Tokyo, Yûrindo, 1885), pp. 1-38.

129Evaluations and lectures for the 1885 exhibition are reprinted as Ibid. Evaluations were also published for the 1879 exhibition; see Nôshômushô Kannôkyoku and Shômukyoku, Kyoshinkai hôkoku: kenshi no bu.

130see, for example, Uchimura Minnosuke's account of his filature's history in Nagano Kencho, ed., "Ippu kyuken rengô sanshi orimono kyôshinkai shinkokusho," 11 vols. (Nagano: Nagano Kencho, 1887), 8:unp.

131ln one case, a Nagano producer devised a ceramic bowl and pipe assembly which he displayed at the 1879 exhibition in Yokohama, and which, he later recalled, "aroused the interest of producers all over the country." Whether this "interest" translated itself into innovation on the part of others is problematical at best. See Hirano, HS, 2:349. In addition, it is important to note that in Nagano, producers were quite willing to share any new techniques they had devised or learned of and, in their reports to the kyoshinkai, did not hesitate to attribute any success they achieved to the example of others. But mention is almost never made in their reports of techniques acquired via the exhibitions. This lapse is all the more revealing when one considers that it would have seemed natural for the producers to praise the exhibitions in this way, since elsewhere in their reports they had kind words for anything the government did— perhaps with an eye to having their wares favorably appraised. See especially Nagano Kencho Kangyoka, ed. "Dai ikkai kyôshinkai shinkokusho: kiito no bu."

l^^Nôshômushô Nômukyoku, Sanshi shüdankai kiji, pp. 24-25, 28.

133r 5 Yukinari, "Seishikai no sengaku Hayami Kenzo 5," pt. 5, Jômo oyobi jômojin 158 (June 1930):32.

134guoted in Zenkoku Sanshigyo Daikai Jimusho, ed., Zenkoku sanshi daikai hôkoku (Tokyo: Zenkoku Sanshigyo Daikai Jimusho, 1894), p. 10.

135por examples, see Nôshômushô Nômukyoku and Kômukyoku, Kyôshinkai bansa hôkoku, pp. 50-54. 239

136^3jinishi Mitsuhaya, Nihon sangyô shihon seiritsu shiron {Tokyo: Ochanomizu Shobo, 1965), p. 147.

137Based on figures in Takahashi Keizai Kenkyujo, Nihon sanshigyo hattatsu shi, pp. 320-22.

138Based on information in Kajinishi, Nihon sangyô shihon seiritsu shiron, p. 148; Otsuka, Sanshi, 1:502-3; and Yoshikawa Hidezo, Shizoku ensan no kenkyQ (Tokyo: Yuhikaku, 1942), pp. 184-89. In one case in Oita, the prefectural government tried to set stricter conditions for the loan, but was overruled by the Ministry of Agriculture and Commerce; see Azuma TQsaku, Shizoku ensan shi (Tokyo: Mikasa Shobo, 1942), pp. 96-100.

l^^Yoshikawa, Shizoku ensan no kenkyu, p. 190.

140see Ôtsuka, Sanshi, 1:463-67 for details.

141por details, see Ibid. and Yoshikawa, Shizoku ensan no kenkyC, pp. 543-48. The result of this policy was particularly deleterious in Nagano, where the overwhelming majority of silk producers were not bushi. In 1878, for example, one of the prefecture's most innovative and influential producers, who also happened to be a commoner, submitted a request to the Horae Affairs Ministry for a fiteen-year loan of fifty thousand yen. Despite the enthusiastic support of the prefectural government, he was turned down on the grounds that the central government did not have sufficient funds at its disposal— this at a time when huge sums were going out to far less promising bushi petitioners. See Nagano Kenshi Kankôkai, Nagano kenshi kindaishi shiryohen, 5 pt. 3, document no. 344:603-4.

142gQQ Azuma, Shizoku ensan shi, pp. 78-123(for Oita), 124-92(for Kumamoto") and 193-227(for Nagasaki).

143-pomioka, T SS, document no. 375, 1:836 and Ohira Kimata, ed., Matsushiro chSshi (Nagano: Matsushiro Machiyakuba, 1929), p"I 193.

144por examples, see Azuma, Shizoku ensan shi, pp. 212, 610-11.

14Sone group of Oita bushi, for example, received four thousand yen in the late 1870's for silk reeling and silkworm cultivation, but lent money to "reliable businesses"— and then complained that they did not have enough funds for their own enterprise. See Ibid., pp. 87-90. 240

146Quoted in Mori, Sanshigyo shihonshugi shi, pp. 27-28.

147u5shômushô, Kôgyô iken, 18:86.

148gano, Dai Nihon sanshi: seishi, pp. 708-12.

149yoshikawa, Shizoku ensan no kenkyu, pp. 199-200.

ISOSano, Dai Nihon sanshi: seishi, p. 586.

IS^Hayami's proposals are reprinted in Ibid., pp. 422-30(1873) and 535-45(1876). CHAPTER IV

NAGANO PREFECTURE AND THE MECHANIZATION

OF THE SILK-REELING INDUSTRY

In 1869 and 1870, several officials of the British

Embassy traveled throughout central Honshu at the behest of the Japanese government to assess the state of the nation's silk-reeling industry, identify problems therein and suggest solutions. On both occasions, the British officials spent most of their time examining activities in Gunma and

Yamanashi prefectures, and the area just northwest of Tokyo.

Their interest in Nagano prefecture extended only to the thriving zaguri center of Ueda and to the Matsumoto region, where they examined silkworm-raising operations. In the reports which the officials subsequently presented to the

Meiji government, southern Nagano was mentioned only in passing, and not at all with regard to its silk industry.^

The scant attention given by the observers to Nagano in general and to its southern portion in particular was no oversight; as late as the early 1870's Nagano hardly qualified as one of the more important silk-producing regions, despite impressive increases in output since the beginning of the century. Yet by 1879, Nagano alone accounted for over forty per cent of all machine-reeled raw

241 242 silk exported from Yokohama, and its 395 mechanized filatures represented sixty per cent of the national total; just as impressively, almost half of the prefecture’s mechanized thread came from one county in the south, Suwa, which had heretofore been of virtually no significance to the silk industry, and which the British officials had quite properly 2 ignored less than a decade earlier.

Clearly, tremendous changes had taken place in

Nagano's silk-reeling industry over a very short period of time— changes that were without parallel in the rest of

Japan. No other prefecture even remotely approached Nagano in total ouput of machine-reeled thread or in the number of mechanized filatures; its nearest competitors, Gifu and

Yamanashi, could boast of only 143 and 80 filatures, and of productivity equal to 25 and 51 per cent of Nagano's, 3 respectively. Even in terms of total raw silk output, increases posted by Nagano's silk producers dwarfed those of all other prefectures; whereas in 1876 Nagano shipped less than half as much thread to Yokohama as the then-major production area, Gunma, in 1880 it had surpassed that prefecture in output, and for most years thereafter it A retained a preeminent position in the industry. So dominant was Nagano in the development and spread of mechanized silk reeling that, in a very real sense, the history of modern silk reeling in Japan is the history of the industry in that single prefecture. Nagano was all the more 243

representative isofar as its experience was not one of

steady, even growth, but rather was characterized by any

number of setbacks and by constraints which significantly

limited the nature of the silk-reeling industry's

mechanization. The preceding chapters indicated that serious

problems, qualitative and otherwise, beset Meiji Japan's

silk-reeling industry? Nagano, far from being an exception to

the pattern, was, if anything, its archetype.

Although the extent to which silk reeling developed

in Nagano during the Meiji years was without precedent in

Japan, the industry itself was, it will be remembered, not a

new phenomenon to the region. Nagano's mountainous terrain

and harsh, long winters had for time out of mind dictated

that the peasantry find ways other than tilling the soil to

supplement their income. There simply was not enough paddy

land for the mandatory rice cultivation to provide the farm populace with even a minimal livlihood; and the climate, in

any case, reduced the amount of time the peasantry could

spend each year on strictly agricultural pursuits.

Consequently, by the middle of the Tokugawa era, most of

Nagano's farm population was engaged in subsidiary

occupations; silkworm raising, silk reeling and silk weaving dominated in the northern areas of the prefecture, particularly in Ueda; they were also done, sometimes quite

intensively, in southern Nagano, but here cotton willowing

was by far the major source of additional income.^ Both 244

cotton and silk were ideally suited to this type of

production because they could be produced, given the level of

technology available, in one's home at a relatively low cost

during the extended winter season, and because the markets

for the products were usually assured.

Thus northern and southern Nagano adopted rather

different responses to economic and geographical exigencies;

that they did so was to prove of immense historical

significance. Ueda and other areas in the north saw the

emergence of a thriving silk industry on a relatively large

scale long before the south had any comparable production

structure; this was undoubtedly due to the region's proximity

to present-day Gunma, an area which was, in the Tokugawa era,

blessed with the most advanced silk-reeling technology in

Japan and, equally importantly, which was the site of several

flourishing silk markets. Even as a sideline industry, silk

reeling in most areas of southern Nagano began at least half

a century later than in the north, where the Ueda han

government consistently took the lead in encouraging the

industry.^ It is not, therefore, coincidental that the

zaguri reeling process was adopted and diffused throughout much of northern Nagano fully fifty years before it saw any acceptance in the south. Northern producers were, by the turn of the nineteenth century, dependent on the silk industry to a far greater extent than those elsewhere; their merchants, many of whom sold silk products not only in Gunma but 245

throughout Japan, were in an ideal position to learn of new

production techniques, and it was to these merchants'

advantage to see that producers were in turn informed. In

the south, on the other hand, all aspects of silk production

took a decidedly second place to cotton willowing as a source

of additional income; as a result, producers lacked the

impulse to change and to adopt new methods that characterized

those in the north. Silk production was simply not important

enough here to demand the kind of effort that change would have entailed.

All of this, and much more, changed when trade began

with the West in 1859. For northern Nagano, the new

situation meant the virtual disappearance of such silk

weaving as had been done there, and a concentration on the

production of silkworms and silk thread, both of which had

suddenly become immensely profitable export items. The

stress on raw silk production led to the introduction of new,

though not necessarily better, reeling techniques from Gunma;

but aside from this the opening of the nation resulted in no

real economic dislocation for most residents of northern

Nagano.^ If anything, the new situation was a godsend,

since it provided an alternative, more lucrative market for

products which peasants were accustomed to turning out but

whose domestic demand had stagnated for years. The opening

of the treaty ports led, in other words, to an

intensification of what had been done before.^ In southern 246

Nagano, by contrast, the first effects of trade with the West bordered on the cataclysmic : the market for the cotton on which peasants had depended so heavily all but vanished as

Japan found itself inundated by imports of that commodity from the nation's new trading partners. Bereft of a good portion of their livelihood, farmers in the region had no choice but to seek alternative sources of income. Their decision to take up silk reeling in particular was almost preordained; the industry was already established, though on a relatively limited basis, and raw silk was the product whose value as an export item was most immediately apparent.

Although some of them did leave financial records and diaries, farmers in pre-Meiji Japan were not the type of people from which their descendents (and others) might expect written accounts of their experiences. Hence one can only speculate about the degree to which the commencement of foreign trade— an economic phenomenon almost non-existent in

Japan for over two centuries— upset not only patterns of work and life, but also patterns of thought. It is, nonetheless, possible to make some generalizations based on what is known to have happened. The peasants of northern Nagano emerged from the tumultuous changes occasioned by the opening of the treaty ports rather unscathed, and they found that with the expenditure of not much more effort than before they were considerably better off as long as they produced raw silk for export. The new situation was certainly a boon to them, and 247 no doubt served thereby to confirm for them the efficacy of what they had been doing— and, for the most part, the way they had been doing it— for decades. As a result, farmers in the area who relied so heavily on silk production were not at all disposed to question the methods they used or to keep an eye out for alternatives; and they were ultimately to pay the price for this ephemeral prosperity.

In southern Nagano, trade with the West was a traumatic turn of events at first. But if peasants in the area were traumatized, they were also galvanized by what had happened, and they reacted with a resiliency and flexibility that was to stand them in good stead in the succeeding years. The zaguri reeling method, which peasants in the area had studiously ignored for half a century, was introduced to southern Nagano in 1859, and within two years virtually all g producers there had adopted it or a variation thereon.

Both the speed and the extent of this conversion are impressive, and afford some indication of the impetus to change with which people in the area were affected. In the space of a few years zaguri reeling, the most sophisticated method then available in Japan, was even more common here than in the northern sections of the prefecture, where some hand reeling continued to be done much as it had been for centuries. Economic realities— specifically, the booming export market— account in part for the changes taking place in the south; but only in part. Something more fundamental 248

seems to have been at work here since, for one thing, there were no parallel changes elsewhere. Southern Nagano appears

to have received a jolt of sufficient magnitude to convince

its inhabitants that when unprecedented economic

circumstances arose, the only way to deal with them

successfully was to adopt new patterns of work or production;

that change, in the form of innovation, was a proper, and profitable, response to a new situation.

Initial Mechanization; the House of Ono in Southern Nagano

Still, in the years after trade began, there was no successful attempt, either in Nagano prefecture or elsewhere, to go beyond zaguri reeling to a mechanized production process. There is reason enough to suggest that a successfully mechanized silk-reeling process would ultimately have been developed within Japan, but history, first in the person of Hayami Kenzo, denied domestic producers the opportunity. By introducing, in however rudimentary a form,

Western production techniques, Hayami's Maebashi Filature, along with the government's operation at Tomioka, determined

for decades the way Japan's raw silk producers would mechanize. In Nagano, as elsewhere, Maebashi Filature had almost no direct impact at all; but indirectly, through the activities of the House of Ono, its effect was substantial.

Ono, an immensely wealthy merchant family based originally in 249

northern Honshu and the Kansai area, had been involved in the

domestic silk market for over a century, and though its entry

into the export market was rather belated (1870),

long-established ties with regional dealers soon enabled it

to control much of the raw silk shipped from Nagano and the

Tohoku region to Yokohama. In addition, a substantial

contribution of funds to the Meiji government immediately

after the Restoration paid off handsomely for Ono: until the

establishment of the Finance Ministry, it handled the receipt and disbursement of public funds, and later was given the profitable task of converting rice taxes from eleven prefectures into cash and forwarding the receipts to Tokyo.

Along with the houses of Mitsui and Shimada, who were

similarly favored by the new government, Ono also helped run the Meiji era's first silk inspection system. All of this provided the family with substantial amounts of liquid, if temporary, capital with which to maneuver; and maneuver it did. Cognizant by this time of the apparently unlimited prospects for the export of raw silk, the House of Ono opened

its own, and Japan's second, filature based on Western technology in the Tsukiji section of Tokyo in October 1871.10

The operation at Tsukiji was, for all intents and purposes, Maebashi Filature writ large; it even boasted of the same Western advisor, Caspar Mueller, whom Ono hired upon the expiration of his contract at Maebashi. By 1372, Tsukiji 250

Filature had reeling equipment for ninety-six workers, and

therefore was much larger than Hayami's operation. But in

other respects it was practically identical; this being the

case, it had Maebashi's advantages (low operating and

establishment costs, adaptability to the Japanese context)

and disadvantages (primitive machinery, reliance on manual

labor to turn the reeling frames). It also had an additional disadvantage uniquely its own, one which was to prove its downfall: a bad location. The House of Ono had apparently

chosen the Tsukiji site on the expectation that the filature would be close to raw material supplies (understandable,

since the government had encouraged mulberry cultivation on

former dairayo estates in the capital) and that its proximity to Yokohama would lower transport costs. Times being what they were, however, real estate prices in Tokyo soared, and buildings sprang up in far greater profusion than mulberry bushes. Faced with the problem of having to buy and

transport cocoons from distant areas, a procedure that more

than outweighed any saving in shipping costs to Yokohama, Ono closed its filature at Tsukiji in late 1872. Two years

later, the House of Ono itself, having vastly overextended the capital at its disposal, and having been ordered by the government to secure its holdings of public funds, collapsed.

The abrubt demise of the House of Ono meant that its

role in Meiji Japan's silk-reeling industry was limited to a 251

few years during which there was little mechanization to speak of in the industry as a whole. Yet its influence was considerably more substantial than its brief participation would suggest. One reason for this was the kind of operation

Ono ran at Tsukiji— like that at Maebashi, one relatively simple and easily copied. Beyond this, however, Ono went to some lengths to see that others found out about the technology it was using. The complex of economic ties which the family had used its privileged position to construct provided it, in effect, with an abundant supply of labor from the countryside; accordingly, Ono got its female employees from Nagano and other areas where its ties with rural society were strong. Both sides benefitted here; Ono obtained a reliable supply of cheap labor, and young peasant women learned how to reel silk by machine. The women, in fact, were never intended to become permanent employees at Tsukiji, but were expected to acquire the requisite skills, return home, and communicate them to others. To the same end, Ono opened its operation for inspection and emulation by anyone interested in setting up his own mechanized filature.

Despite the filature's short life, some producers or would-be producers did manage to get to Tsukiji, see what was done, and attempt to copy it; in some cases they took Tsukiji 12 trainees back with them to help set up their own places.

Material indicating to what degree Ono succeeded in transmitting new skills through Tsukiji Filature is, as in 252

Tomioka's case, fragmentary at best. Nevertheless, when allowance is made for the fact that it did not have Tomioka's longevity, security or fame, it seems likely that Tsukiji

Filature did no worse than the government's grand model? at the very least, it was easier to copy with any exactitude.

But in any case, the filature itself was peripheral in impact compared with another related activity on the part of the

House of Ono; providing funds and technical advice to help silk producers, in almost all cases residents of southern

Nagano where Ono was well connected, establish their own mechanized reeling operations. In this sense, Tsukiji

Filature served as a base for a considerably more ambitious scheme. There was nothing altruistic about this: mechanization, if successful, meant greater output, and greater output in turn meant higher profits for Ono, which would handle the raw silk. But the motive of the House of

Ono is, historically, less important than its achievement; it succeeded in introducing mechanized silk reeling to Nagano prefecture, thereby setting the stage for a spectacular period of growth in the industry.

Between 1872 and 1874, at least thirty-seven mechanized filatures were set up in Nagano. These were the first such establishments in the prefecture, and fourteen of them are known to have owed their start, to one degree or 13 another, to the activities of the House of Ono. Ono provided the impulse for converting to mechanized production 253

of raw silk by offering a relatively simple, inexpensive

technology that nonetheless was, if properly done, markedly

more sophisticated than traditional alternatives. And

because it provided this impulse to a rural society where

most households were engaged in one or more aspects of silk

production and where, traditionally, information with regard

to production methods was considered communal property,

diffusion of the new technology was virtually assured.

Almost certainly Nagano’s silk-reeling industry, especially

in the south, would have seen substantial mechanization even

had Ono not been active in the area; but the fact remains

that it was active, and was, for however short a time, the prime mover behind what was to become a transformation of the

industry in the prefecture.

Ono went beyond introducing the new reeling

techniques to the area, however, by providing something

equally fundamental: capital to get the places started.

Nine of the fourteen aforementioned filatures were financed

wholly or in part by the House of Ono, which also handled the

retailing of their output in Yokohama, thereby assuring a

tidy profit for itself and an outlet for the producers' silk

thread.In the end, this was less a blessing than the

recipients no doubt thought at first, since most of them were

so tied to Ono's fate— in some cases, representatives of the

House of Ono served as de facto managers— that they were

forced to shut down shortly after their patron went 254 bankrupt. Four places were able to survive, however, and at least one of them went on to become a major force in Nagano's silk industry.Had the House of Ono continued to exist and prosper, the filatures it aided quite probably would have fared better; that both sides collapsed should not, in any case, obscure the fact that-, in a period when little money was forthcoming from any source for the mechanization of the silk-reeling industry, Ono alone contributed money, and the technology to match, to a region whose raw silk production was in time to dwarf that of all other prefectures. In so doing, it showed a prescience far greater than did the central government, whose concerns were more political; one can only speculate what might have happened if events had proved more propitious for Ono and its beneficiaries.

A few of the filatures set up under Ono's aegis were of impressive size, including two which were equipped to handle ninety-six reelers; but most of the operations were rather modest affairs with equipment for no more than thirty workers, so that even in those cases where Ono did not supply capital the initial costs were not exorbitant. Nonetheless, these places were large by contemporary and local standards, and thirty employees was to remain a respectable figure in the silk industry for decades^ thereafter.Scale, in any case, was not of paramount importance at the time; to Ono what mattered was that they made money and that they encouraged others to set up. simiilar operations, which it was 255 assumed, would entrust their wares to Ono. The two concerns were expressed quite clearly in an anxious letter Ono's local representative sent to the largest filature it had established in Nagano, in which the representative complained about low productivity and poor management, and told Ono's clients that

jJe wish you to work harder this year to produce better raw silk and to keep costs down, particularly because, aside from Tomioka Filature, the operations (we have set up) in your area are the first in our nation. The House of Ono is very concerned, not only about the quality of your output but also about your finances; and places whose raw silk is not of sufficient quality will have to shut down. Our filatures are models for the entire nation, and we trust that you will work harder and improve your performance.

In fact, none of the filatures appears to have achieved any notable degree of financial stability during the years they operated in conjunction with the House of Ono.

The fact that most of them closed upon Ono's collapse reflects a degree of financial dependence that would not have been the case had they operated at a profit. One place actually closed within a year of its establishment, well 18 before the House of Ono went bankrupt. Ono's first venture, Miyamada Filature, has had considerable importance attached to it, mostly because it was the largest operation

Ono itself established, and the first mechanized silk-reeling factory not only in Nagano but in the soon-dominant village of Hirano in Suwa county.Yet Miyamada too closed with

Ono's disappearance from the scene, and even before that was 256 beset with a host of problems, not all of them financial. It had not taken much to get the place started; Miyamada's construction costs amounted to 2,335 yen, a nominal sum considering its scale, and less than one per cent of what it 20 took to complete Tomioka Filature. The most serious initial obstacle to Miyamada's success was an inability to put together a stable work force— a telling indication that there was, at least in the beginning, resistance to working in establishments of this kind, which to be successful, required that employees put in set hours over a relatively long period of time under structured working conditions.

Originally equipped with fifty reeling units, during its first year of operation (1872), Miyamada used at most 22 thirty-six of them, and sometimes as few as seventeen.

Even the return of twenty-four women sent to Tsukiji Filature the following year for training did not provide quite the expected boost in personnel, since some of them went to work 23 elsewhere. By July of 1873, Miyamada was able to reach its full capactiy, but was at this point plagued by problems of production quality and by low raw silk prices on the

Yokohama market. Miyamada's founder, a wealthy Hirano merchant with close ties to the House of Ono, thereupon turned the place over to the latter, though he remained to serve as manager until Miyamada closed in late 1874.^^

Ironically, although these first filatures based on

Ono's technology and money were almost all financial failures 257 to start, they were very successful as models, or at least as catalysts for the mechanization of Nagano's silk-reeling industry. Existing records indicate that between 1873 and

1880 at least thirty-two silk-reeling operations were based, more or less directly, on the technology used at the filatures Ono had helped establish. The actual figure is almost certainly higher, since information is available only for those places which managed to stay afloat through 1880, and this was a period during which filatures opened and 25 closed at a rather breathless clip. Understandably, those filatures most successful in spawning imitations of their technology were places which themselves were able— though usually with considerable difficulty— to survive after the House of Ono collapsed, or which were never financially dependent on Ono to begin with. But even

Miyamada Filature prompted the establishment of at least twelve places before it shut down, and two more thereafter; almost all of them were located nearby, indicating a high degree of local receptivity to the new technology whatever the initial apprehensions had been.^^ The pattern was similar elsewhere in southern Nagano, where the first mechanized filatures invariably inspired the establishment of 27 similar operations in their localities.

Part of the reason Ono-based filatures were able to lead to the creation of more mechanized places despite their financial weakness was due, no doubt, to the relatively 258 simple technology they employed. The House of Ono was, after all, a financial enterprise; unlike the central government, it was less interested in erecting an imposing edifice that sported the latest and most expensive Western equipment than in setting up filatures that worked. The Italian tehcnology

Ono adopted, though demonstrably inferior to what Tomioka had to offer, was just as demonstrably cheaper and simpler.

Nothing was used in these filatures that could not be obtained locally or be produced by local craftsmen; no quantum leap was required in order to set up such an operation, and none was made. Even the power source was defined by local conditions; most places used water wheels to turn their reeling frames— a rather less impressive way to go about things than was Tomioka's reliance on steam engines, but an eminently practical expedient, given the region's abundant supply of running water, and the fact that water wheels had long been made locally, though for other purposes. The relative simplicity of the production process

Ono and its beneficiaries offered, together with the small scale of the filatures that were started in this period, meant that most people were able to begin a mechanized 28 silk-reeling operation with a modicum of capital.

Mechanization Takes Root: the Late 1870's

Nevertheless, simplicity and economy do not suffice to explain why mechanized filatures began to be established 259 in southern Nagano with such rapidity. The 1870's were hardly halcyon years for the average Japanese peasant; for those in the silk industry, their problems were compounded by the fact that their fate was now inextricably bound to the international market, whose gyrations they could not foresee, much less control. The price of raw silk on the export market fluctuated wildly in the 1870's; even within days it sometimes rose or fell with dizzying and devastating rapidity, so that a miscalculation in shipment of goods to

Yokohama by a week or so could deal a severe blow to a 29 producer's fortunes. The risks involved in the silk-reeling industry were enormous, as the fate of the filatures established by the House of Ono made all too obvious. Yet the number of mechanized filatures in southern

Nagano increased steadily in the 1870's, and explosively at the end of the decade. It would be rash to dismiss financial considerations as a reason for this growth; despite the hazards involved, there was money, and a lot of it, to be made in the silk trade, and peasants who went through the travail of setting up filatures certainly expected to be remunerated for their endeavors. Nevertheless, it seems clear that there were also other, more fundamental, factors at work here. The proximity of many filatures to those first established suggests that the pioneer operations were powerful stimuli for change at the local level. At the very least they were eye-catching. One man who had observed 260

Miyamada Filature marveled that "not only does the place reduce (the need for) human labor, it is fast, and it produces beautiful thread which will surely be priced much higher (than hand-reeled thread) on the export market"; and one Nagano newpaper noted with regard to Miyamada that "all silk dealers in the area are impressed and inspired by it."30

It would have been difficult indeed to turn a blind eye to these novel operations, particularly given the rather tightly-knit nature of rural society at the time. There is evidence to suggest that those who did ignore them were people already long engaged, with apparent satisfaction, in reeling silk by hand or by the zaguri method.But for those with little or no experience in the industry, who either needed or wanted to develop a new source of income and who had no attachment to traditional techniques, the first mechanized filatures, which were open for anyone to copy as his finances and inclinations dictated, were thoroughly effective in persuading them to build similar places.

Southern Nagano, particularly Suwa county, was an unusually receptive area for what had been introduced, since the collapse of the once-dominant cotton industry had put a premium on the production of raw silk thread. Mechanized silk reeling, an industry which seemed to enjoy an almost limitless demand on the export market, offered itself in the form of the Ono-based filatures; the result was that the 261

industry was able to generate its own sort of momentum, as

new places were established and they in turn prompted the

establishment of others.

Although those filatures set up on cooperation with

the House of Ono succeeded in initiating mechanization of the

silk-reeling industry in southern Nagano, their influence in other ways was circumscribed by the events of the 1370's. If

they provided people with the notion of mechanization, they did not to the same degree provide them with the method. In

the latter regard their influence was of necessity limited by their early demise; one cannot copy, at least with much exactitude, what no longer exists. Copying, in any case, was probably never tantamount to duplication, and it seems likely that as time progressed adherence to the original Tsukiji model became more and more attenuated. Even more

importantly, there was the alternative of Tomioka's French technology, to which a considerably greater amount of prestige was attached; and although this too was copied in a

form substantially different from the original, it was apparent that in the long run it facilitated production of

the kind of thread desired by the Nest, and was therefore 32 potentially more profitable. Not surprisingly, then,

those mechanized filatures based originally on Ono's Italian

technology which managed to survive beyond the early 1870's had in almost all cases changed their production techniques by the end of the decade; and most of them based their 262 renovations, in one way or another, on what Tomioka and its offspring had to offer. Their "renovations", to be sure, were often not very substantial, amounting in many instances to the installation of machinery for using steam rather than coal or wood fires to heat the water in the cocoon basins;

Tomioka had pioneered the use of steam heat for this purpose in Japan, and it tended to allow for easier handling of 33 cocoons and for more uniform thread. However minor the changes may seem from a historical perspective, for those who had already invested much time and money in one new way of doing things, they were significant enough; and they reflected a dissatisfaction with existing production techniques as well as a marked willingness to seek alternatives to them.

These producers did not have to look far for their alternatives, because by the late 1870's mechanized filatures not based on Ono's methods were increasingly common in

Nagano. The initial source of inspiration for such places was, of course, Tomioka Filature; as noted in chapter 2, between 1874 and 1880 sixty-nine filatures were set up in

Nagano based, at least according to their owners, on the government's model. The figure includes those which began with the technology Ono had introduced to the region but which subsequently converted to the Tomioka style. It does not include operations whose owners declined to state where they had obtained their technology; but it is safe to say 263

that none of these filatures was created in a technological

vacuum, their methods wholly peculiar to themselves and

without reference to what was being done nearby. Indeed, the

sheer number of mechanized filatures in Nagano, as well as

their concentration in the southern sectors of the

prefecture, suggests that many filatures were based on what

was being done at other operations in the immediate

vicinity. As we have seen, this was done when Ono's

filatures first appeared upon the scene; it continued to be

the rule once variations on Tomioka's French method offered themselves as alternatives. The imitators thus became the

imitated, spawning numerous filatures in their wake and prompting Ono-based filatures, whose owners were disheartened by, or dissatisfied with, their experience up to that point, to change their way of producing silk thread.

Tomioka's silk-reeling technology was first

introduced to Nagano prefecture by Rokkusha in 1874. This operation (see chapter 2) imitated Tomioka more closely than any other silk-reeling factory set up in the early Meiji years. Though its methods and equipment were a vast

simplification of the original, in some unfortunate respects

Rokkusha's resemblance to Tomioka was strong indeed— strong enough, in fact, to compromise its effectiveness in precisely

the same areas in which Tomioka had proved so disappointing.

Like the latter, Rokkusha was rather heavily overpopulated by young ladies of samurai stock; but unlike Tomioka, in this 264 case it was by design. Rokkusha's founders, all but two of whom were of the warrior class, assumed that only women of high birth— i.e., their own kind— should work at a filature which was "for the benefit of the entire nation", and that, in any case, "mercenary" peasants would be unwilling to have 34 their daughters work there. This rather haughty disdain for the more mundane aspects of running a business did nothing to help the filature in its first years. Although those in charge of Rokkusha were not public officials* but rather ex-samurai groping for a way to make a living under new and straitened circumstances, they were no more successful than Tomioka's staff had been in reaping profits from their venture. Indeed, Rokkusha's first years were marked by almost constant financial turmoil. In debt even before it opened, and unable to obtain the greater part of an anticipated loan from the House of Ono because of the letter's abrupt collapse, the filature was forced to reel thread on a contract basis with cocoons supplied by a sympathetic Maebashi merchant.Shortly thereafter,

Rokkusha was able to begin paying for its own raw material, but the financial picture hardly brightened: the firm's financial report for 1876 admitted that through 1879 eighty per cent of its revenues would have to go toward amortization of its debts, leaving the operation with precious little capital with which to maneuver. 255

Finally, in 1378, Rokkusha's fortunes took a turn for

the better when local samurai decided to invest the

government bonds they had received in the filature, which in

turn used them as backing for an expansion program and as

collateral for a fifteen thousand yen loan from the central

government. The loan came through in 1879, and with this

Rokkusha finally found itself on its financial feet, and was 37 able to expand steadily thereafter.

Although Rokkusha has been cited as an important

influence in the development of Nagano's mechanized

silk-reeling industry, there is even less solid evidence to back this up than in Tomioka's case. As of 1380, none of the prefecture's raw silk producers claimed to have modeled their

operations on the filature, though a sizeable number referred

to Tomioka as their source of inspiration. Like Tomioka,

Rokkusha was singlularly ineffective in the immediate

vicinity: a prefectural survey of mechanized filatures taken

in 1883 showed only five places in Rokkusha's home county, 38 far fewer than almost anywhere else in Nagano. Part of

the problem was simply one of location; Rokkusha was situated

in the middle of northern Nagano, where adherence to

traditional reeling methods and a consequent resistence to

alternatives were at their strongest. One local rumor had it

that Rokkusha's real mission was the indoctrination of 39 impressionable young Japanese in the Christian faith , and

though this certainly kept some people away, the entrenched 266

local hostility to new methods was undoubtedly paramount.

Nor did Rokkusha's financial troubles make the task of

disseminating new techniques any easier, since in the

filature's early years observers might easily have concluded

that innovation invariably led to financial turmoil.

Finally, the fact that Rokkusha was run by, and largely for, members of the disenfranchised warrior class did nothing to

further its influence: a group of Suwa residents who visited the place later dismissed it as a "daimyô's venture", with the thinly-veiled implication that it was not only beyond their resources to duplicate, but run by a group of bungling 40 ex-aristocrats.

Nevertheless, Rokkusha was of some influence. The

firm's founders genuinely conceived of their role as one of propagating a new technology, and devoted much of their energy and capital to this end. This accounts, in part, for their dismal financial record in the beginning, but in the end it also helped to give the operation a measure of success as a model. By 1877, people were coming from as far away as

Kyûshû to see what kind of machinery Rokkusha was using, and, if one of the filature's initial investor's is to be believed, many mechanized operations established in Nagano during the 1870's owed much to what was being done at 41 Rokkusha. In fact, at least some of those producers whose operations were reportedly based on Tomioka actually used Rokkusha as their model, since they lacked the time or 267 money to go and examine Tomioka or to copy it with any exactitude; it was simply more politic to make reference to the government's filature.

Most importantly, the very crudity of Rokkusha's imitation of Tomioka's technology was a point in its favor; lacking the money to do things on a grand scale, the filature was forced to make precisely the kind, if not the degree, of modification and simplification that average producers would be faced with. Though Rokkusha's Tomioka-trained instructors complained about the inferiority of the equipment and about the humble surroundings in which they had to work, to observers who had never seen a mechanized silk-reeling operation, let alone that at Tomioka, it was no doubt impressive enough. Rokkusha's inferiority simply made its technology more practical as a model. Its owners had relied on the services of local craftsmen to turn out machinery for the factory; ordinary producers would have to do likewise, and, if nothing else, Rokkusha showed that it could be done.

The modifications it made in Tomioka's technology and equipment— substituting water for steam power, using unglazed ceramic basins rather than metal ones for boiling cocoons and reeling thread, altering the shape of the basins to make them easier to handle, and vastly simplifying the boilers used— were the kind of adjustments most producers could make and, since they lacked even Rokkusha's financial base, would 42 certainly have to make. In this sense, Rokkusha 268

resembled the filatures which the House of Ono had helped set

up, though it differed insofar as it espoused Tomioka's

superior French technology as its model.

Rokkusha was Nagano's first attempt to devise practical adaptations of the technology used at Tomioka

Filature, but it was neither the last nor the most

important. The collapse of the House of Ono, and of the

filatures financially dependent on it, had left raw silk producers in southern Nagano in a technological quandry. Out of this came a new movement to improvise, and the results achieved by one operation, Hirano's Nakayamasha, ultimately set a standard for the region. Officially established in

1875, Nakayamasha actually began as a number of disparate, very small operations whose owners had changed from zaguri reeling to a rudimentary mechanized method between 1873 and

1874. To assist in the transformation, the owners of these places had sent local women to be trained at nearby Miyamada

Filature. Attempts to unite the operations into one large filature were continually put off on the advice of the House of Ono's local representative, who persuaded the owners that ouput of better quality could be obtained if they reeled separately. The results proving far below expectations, the individual operators decided once and for all to combine their ventures, and for this purpose obtained not only the concurrence of the House of Ono's representative, but a promise from him of a substantial loan of money. 269

The House of Ono's declaration of bankruptcy followed very shortly thereafter, and the would-be entrepreneurs were thus left to fend for themselves financially. Even before this, however, they had indicated that their dependence on

Ono was not meant to be anything other than monetary; in an attempt to determine the most suitable reeling method for their combined operation, they had examined several filatures, including Ono's Miyamada Filature and also

Rokkusha, and as a result had decided to base what they did on a fusion of the French and Italian methods. With their anticipated creditor suddenly removed from the scene,

Nakayamasha's founders were— like it or not— beholden to no one, and free to improvise, tinker and experiment as they saw fit and as their limited resources allowed. Although the machinery they developed was based on, and a further simplification of, Rokkusha's modified Tomioka style, their first instructors were veterans of the by-then defunct

Miyamada Filature, and they adopted the less complex kenneru reeling technique used in Ono's Italian-style operations. In

1876, the owners hired two instructors from Tomioka, and converted to Tomioka's tomoyori reeling method; then, when this change proved too difficult for the very young and generally unskilled labor force, it switched to a variation of the method first used.^^

Despite their failure to obtain the promised loan from the House of Ono, the founders of Nakayamasha do not 270

seem to have labored under undue financial constraints, at

least compared with other producers. The most active force

behind the filature was a wealthy merchant whose family had

long played a leading role in the Hirano village community; his cohorts were also men of relative means. This meant

that, although they had nothing like the resources of the powers behind Tomioka Filature, or even Rokkusha, they

enjoyed a sufficient degree of financial security to enable

them to experiment both before Nakayamasha opened and for

several years thereafter. Thus they spent considerable time and money devising a more easily handled version of

Rokkusha's boiler, and they subsequently replaced this with more sophisticated equipment designed by a craftsman whom

they brought in from outside Nagano. In both instances,

Nakayamasha made the technology available to local silk producers, many of whom adopted it. A disastrous fire in

June 1877 destroyed most of the filature, but the owners

turned calamity to their advantage by rebuilding and

installing improved machinery; they carried out substantial

refurbishments again in 1880 and 1884. Much of this was done, apparently, in the expectation of long-range rather

than immediate gain: as of 1877, Nakayamasha's productivity was among the lowest in Nagano, though the wages it paid were higher than average. Not until the 1880's was the firm able 44 to show consistent profits. 271

This ability on the part of Nakayamasha to withstand financial setbacks and to place a premium on experimentation rather than on earnings was a luxury few, if any, other producers could afford. In this respect, Nakayamasha was unique for its time and place; it was also, after Miyamada, the first silk-reeling operation in the area to be a separate establishment devoted exclusively to that task. Places set up elsewhere in Suwa, even those with funding from the House of Ono, had been put together within the cramped confines of their owners' homes, and continued to serve as subsidiary sources of income, and therefore of concern. But by its very singularity, Nakayamasha began to alter the general pattern of production. Their ability to alter methods and technology as needs dictated ultimately made it possible for

Nakayamasha's owners to devise a workable model for those of average means who wished to derive their sole or principal income from silk reeling. There was nothing in the techniques or the technology presented by Nakayamasha which could not be duplicated, albeit usually on a smaller scale, by anyone ambitious and resourceful enought to try his hand.

In this way, Nakayamasha achieved a domestication of the technologies imported from the West, a crucial turning point in the process of adaptation begun by Hayami Kenzo at

Maebashi and continued by the House of Ono and the founders of Rokkusha. That this point was reached so quickly, less than a decade after Western silk-reeling methods were first 272

introduced to Japan, is indicative of how powerful the

impetus for change and innovation had become.

This process of adaptation to economic realities and

to the Japanese context was not, to be sure, complete. Other

filatures subsequently added to, or improved, the production

methods and equipment which Nakayamasha had developed. But

they were only able to do this because Nakayamasha had

existed in the first place, and had provided them with a

model which they could copy with exactitude. The model

enabled producers to make a go of it in the silk-reeling

industry, to produce by machine raw silk whose quality— and, of equal importance, whose price— made the whole effort worthwile. Most of the hundreds of filatures set up in

southern Nagano in the late 1870's were therefore based on 45 Nakayamasha. None of these places were up to the

standards set by Tomioka or by silk-reeling establishments in

the Nest, and many, no doubt, were crude by any standard.

But this lack of sophistication was not always a drawback.

Rokkusha, for example, had pioneered the use of ceramic

reeling basins, since it could not affort to duplicate the metal equipment used at Tomioka; Nakayamasha subsequently adopted and refined what Rokkusha had done. The use of these basins spread, certainly because they were cheaper and more

available than metal ones, but also for a more fundamental

reason: locally available copper basins tended to absorb too much heat and, even worse, to discolor the raw silk, and 273

46 reliance on ceramic equipment solved both problems. Thus what at first appears to have been a technological step backwards was in fact a perfectly sensible adaptation to economic realities and a practical recognition, vital even in times when innovation is called for, that what is novel is not necessarily better.

Quite apart from the fact that its technology was easily copied, Nakayamasha was of enormous influence for another reason; the timing was right. Even in Nagano, the mechanization of the silk-reeling industry had proceeded at a snail's pace until the mid 1870's, and though a sheer lack of information on how one might go about mechanizing was a factor here, it does not tell the entire story. Tomioka was known, and plenty of women had arrived back from training there by 1875, presumably with some semblance of familiarity with mechanized silk reeling. Filatures associated with the

House of Ono had, as we have seen, some influence, but the number of operations whose establishment they gave direct rise to was very low relative to the extraordinary growth at the end of the decade. Models were therefore not lacking for any prospective entrepreneurs, but though some people did indeed respond to them, on the whole places like Tomioka,

Miyamada and Rokkusha did not appreciably alter patterns of production in the early 1870's. Ifhen change did come, however, it was dramatic and swift. Even in Suwa county, according to official statistics, there were only 8 274

mechanized silk-reeling operations in 1877; the following

year the number had jumped to 108. For the prefecture as a 47 whole, the figures were 50 and 360, respectively.

This apparently sudden transformation of Nagano's

silk-reeling industry did not come about because of any

significant upsurge of capital in the countryside. If

anything, the peasants were badly battered by the economic

changes wrought by the Meiji government and its new tax

system, which placed the onus of financing industrialization on the shoulders of rural Japan. Although, as noted in chapter 3, large sums of money were distributed by the central government in the name of promoting industries like silk reeling, little of this largesse was ever extended to

the peasantry; and almost none at all went to Nagano's 48 non-samurai producers of raw silk , a lapse of judgement

that reflected a nationwide trend and was probably also due

to the fact that Nagano's farmers were a rather obstreperous

lot, given to rioting on occasions when their economic 49 situation grew intolerable. Under these circumstances, many producers began their silk-reeling careers using zaguri equipment, reeling silk on a very small scale on their property, and only very gradually accumulating the money to buy or to build more sophisticated reeling equipment, and to make of raw silk production their main or sole livelihood.

Material indicating how many such producers there were does not exist. It seems safe to say, however, that there were a 275

considerable number of them, since to conclude otherwise

would imply that the hundreds of producers who used the

zaguri method in southern Nagano during the early 1870's

simply quit the silk industry altogether when mechanized

reeling eclipsed their technology at the end of the j 50 decade.

The fact that the government's clumsy attempt to control the silk trade was abandoned in 1877, just before the great upsurge in mechanization in Nagano, has been cited by some as a major influence on subsequent events.

Certainly the change in policy did nothing to hurt, and convinced some people, otherwise wary of officialdom and its heavy hand, that the time was opportune to go into mechanized silk reeling. But the government's regulations do not appear to have measurably affected, one way or the other, the production of raw silk by machine; neither, consequently, did their revocation. It is important to remember in this regard that producers themselves almost always supported regulations in principle, particularly as long as such measures were perceived as contributing to a healthier export market for their goods. Although such sentiment doubtless sprung in part from a politic caution, a desire to stay in good graces with officials connected with the silk industry, it was also ^ 52 genuine enough.

Two other factors appear to have been the major determinants of the extent, and to a lesser degree of the 276 timing, of the mechanization of Nagano's silk-reeling

industry. The first of these concerns the geographical distribution of filatures throughout the prefecture. Of the

359 mechanized filatures officially in operation as of 1879, 53 fully 250 were located in Nagano's southern counties.

Suwa county alone had 108 filatures, and it also stood out in terms of output, accounting for 40.7 per cent of the prefecture's machine-reeled silk thread as early as 1878.

The county's position declined for some time thereafter— but only in relative terms, as mechanization spread throughout the southern areas, which by 1883 together had 404 of the prefecture's 495 filatures. A decade later, Suwa was again in a commanding position, far ahead in terms of number of 54 filatures and output of raw silk. In no other region of

Japan was the industry so strikingly consolidated in one small area. In an age when communication facilities were rudimentary at best, and when one's frame of reference did not, in any case, extend much beyond the confines of his immediate locale, this pattern of consolidation made it much easier for producers— in Suwa especially, but throughout southern Nagano in general— to learn of new techniques, to see them being practically applied, and to find out how they themselves might do likewise. That so many did indeed do likewise was probably a result, in part, of a simple desire not to be left behind technologically and to do as well as one's neighbors; but it was also due to the fact that one 277

could easily see that others were mechanizing and were

apparently successful at it. Additional factors were at work here too; Suwa enjoyed access to good water supplies, as well

as to the best transport routes to Yokohama. But the

concentration of filatures into a relatively small area

tended, once established, to be self-perpetuating. It also afforded producers opportunities unavailable elsewhere in

Japan for cooperation, not only in a technological sense but also in the areas of financing, shipping, and even at certain

stages of production.

The second major factor behind mechanization involved changes on the international silk market. This was not as significant as the geographical factor; if it had been, mechanization ought properly to have occurred elsewhere at a rate approaching that seen in Nagano. But a more stable market happened to coincide with developments in Nagano, and thereby reinforced the trend toward mechanization. Since the beginning of the Meiji era, the price producers could expect

to obtain for their raw silk on the Yokohama market had

fluctuated with distressing frequency, and the consequent uncertainty made it impossible for most silk producers to approach their business with much confidence about their ultimate income. In 1876, the average price for silk thread shot up to its highest level since the Restoration, though it was still below what could be had for the commodity in 1866 and 1867; in 1877, the price slid twenty per cent, but 278

thereafter remained relatively unchanged through 1880.^^

Within any given year prices varied, sometimes by large

amounts, but the general trend was one of appreciably more

stability than had existed before.Even more

importantly, the average price for machine-reeled silk thread

of good quality was consistently much higher on the Yokohama

market than that for thread produced by traditional

techniques. This had not always been the case: as late as

1876 the best machine-reeled thread fetched lower prices than

the best zaguri thread Nagano and Gunma had to offer. Within

a year, the situation was reversed; once reversed, it

remained so, and the gap between prices for the two kinds of 57 thread widened almost every year thereafter. Mechanized

filatures appear to have been able at least to begin to

remedy the problems--mostly matters of quality— that had

contributed to an initially disappointing showing on the

market, and to have demonstrated once and for all that they had a potential for profit. This does not appear to have

been lost on southern Nagano's silk producers; the new price

trends did much to eliminate the uncertainty and risk (or at

least the perception thereof) for people who, as noted above, were already inclined to turn to mechanized silk reeling.

The Cooperative Movement in Nagano

Nagano's rather sudden rise to preeminence in the

silk industry was the result of an extraordinary effort on 279

the part of her rural citizenry, mostly farmers and petty

merchants, to adopt what in most cases amounted to a new way

of life. In 1878 alone, 191 mechanized filatures were 53 established in the prefecture. By any measure, the

achievement was remarkable; but the figures, however genuine,

are deceptive. Most of these new operation were very small:

80 per cent had fewer than 25 women reeling thread, and of 59 these half had no more than 14. Almost all of the places

were open only during the summer, when cocoon supplies were

most abundant and therefore cheaper than at any other time of

the year; they lacked the capital to buy greater amounts of

cocoons than needed for this short period, as well as

facilities for storing them, and therefore could not prolong

the reeling period. Even on a per reeling-unit basis, their

capital investment was very low: in the village of Hirano,

the average per unit was less than half that of Rokkusha, and

less than ten per cent of what Tomioka Filature had had to

spend on its equipment.Equipment was therefore

predictably primitive. An official sent by the prefectural

government to inspect southern Nagano's new silk-reeling operations in 1879 concluded that

Although the mechanization that has taken place in the silk-reeling industry is in itself a desireable thing, most of the places I saw were mechanized in name only, and produced thread that was worse than that obtained by the zaguri method. If the situation is allowed to go unaltered, we will lose our foreign markets, prices for raw silk will fall, and the nation as a whole will suffer.^1 280

In the end, none of these dire consequences came to pass, at least as the official had predicted; but for many of Nagano's new raw silk producers the future proved no less bleak: by

1883, over sixty per cent of the filatures established in

1878 had closed their doors.

As an aggregate, Nagano's mechanized silk-reeling industry was more resilient than this massive rate of failure would suggest. Between 1878 and 1883, 304 new filatures were established, making a total of 495.^^ But even for those producers who were able to get started and stay afloat, their situation was not much less precarious than for those who failed. Even as time went by, most filatures opened and operated with very little capital, which meant that their machinery and output were frequently of very poor quality and that, in a financial pinch such as occurred as a result of the Yokohama warehouse dispute in late 1881, producers had little or nothing to fall back on. Many were additionally handicapped by a simple lack of experience in the silk industry, a situation which made initial losses all but inevitable. And finally, the small scale of most of Nagano's filatures presented serious difficulties for their owners.

They lacked the capital, both liquid and fixed, which would have enabled them to obtain loans to expand or to tide them over when times were bad. They found it expensive to ship the small amount of raw silk they produced to Yokohama, and even once that hurdle had been overcome, they faced an 281 additional problem: because Western merchant houses insisted on buying in bulk, and individual producer's output

invariably had to be sold with other raw silk, the resulting

variations in denier, sheen and overall quality invariably brought the producer a lower price than he might otherwise have expected.

In response to these problems, particularly the thorniest and most immediate ones of capital shortages and high shipping costs, producers turned to each other for help, pooled what resources they had, and formed cooperative units to coordinate aspects of production and retailing. There were ample precedents for cooperation, though not necessarily of this kind. We have seen the extent to which silk reelers were willing to go during the Tokugawa period to share new

information with others; the trend obviously continued after

1868 with the activities of Rokkusha, Miyamada, Nakayamasha and other filatures, and some people even went so far as to lend out, either at a minimal fee or free of charge, 64 machinery they had devised. This exceptional willingness to share— along with, it should be noted, a patent need to

share, or to be a beneficiarty of sharing— did much to

facilitate cooperative activity. Indeed, almost all of the

early filatures, including the most important and influential ones, were possible only because individuals used their

limited funds collectively. Cooperative production thus was not new to Nagano's silk-reeling industry; what was new was 2 8 2 the structure and nature of the cooperative units, and the significant, if temporary, influence they had on mechanized silk reeling in the prefecture. Between 1875 and 1891, over thirty cooperatives were set up in Nagano; at one point they included almost all the region's mechanized filatures.

Cooperatives drastically reduced shipping costs for producers, gave them a framework for the exchange of technological information, and made it possible for affiliated filatures to operate more efficiently. Output went up enormously; in Hirano, which alone was the headquarters for at least nine cooperatives, productivity per reeling unit quadrupled between 1878 and 1890.®^

Nagano's first cooperative, Tôkôsha, had its genesis in a filature established jointly by a group of producers in

1875. The success of the initial operation prompted the founders to build their own places, but to package and ship their raw silk to Yokohama collectively. Other producers in turn consigned their silk to the organization for packaging and shipping, and the volume handled soon grew so large that

Tôkôsha's original members drew up a set of regulations placing geographical limits on affiliation with their organization and prescribing uniform reeling methods for those whose silk it handled. All thread had to be inspected and classified prior to shipment, and receipts and profits were subsequently distributed accordingly. Once thus established, Tôkôsha expanded with remarkable rapidity. By 283

1880, over 60 filatures were associated with the cooperative.^^ The number declined thereafter, but the scale of the cooperative continued to grow; in .1885, Tôkôsha boasted of 55 member filatures, a total of 1243 reeling 68 units, 25 instructors and 10 inspectors.

The almost immediate success of this venture led to the establishment of similar organizations elsewhere, mostly

(as might be expected) in the south. Suwa's first cooperative, Gakôsha, was formed in 1876, but there was no significant number of cooperatives there or anywhere in the prefecture until after mechanized reeling, and the number of mechanized filatures, began to grow rapidly. As this happened, cooperatives were very quickly organized— testimony that such structures made good economic sense for the times.

Suwa eventually had twenty-seven cooperatives, far more than any other county in Nagano.The most important of these was Kaimeisha, established in 1879. Kaimeisha was unique in the degree to which the individual filatures associated with the organization surrendered control of their operations; under a set of rules drawn up in 1880, the cooperative regulated the number of days member filatures could operate annually, prescribed uniform reeling techniques, established 70 strict labor policies and set wage rates. A revised set or regulations, issued in 1884, included exacting inspection standards for the organization as well as a schedule of bonuses and penalties for workers, and penalties for 284 producers whose output did not meet Kaimeisha's 71 criteria. In so regulating the activities of its members, Kaimeisha was simply taking what Tôkôsha had done one step further, since the latter had also had a detailed, 72 though less comprehensive, set of rules. No one affiliated with the cooperative appears to have been distressed by Kaimeisha*s stern approach; and for good reason, since as the organization expanded it prospered. By

1888, it produced almost twice as much raw silk as any other cooperative in Nagano; by 1891, there were 22 filatures associated with the organization, and a total of 1800 reeling units.■ 7 3

The earliest cooperatives were able to provide their members with the hitherto unknown security of numbers, and also with higher profits. If the former advantage was attractive, the latter was decisive in its influence on other producers contemplating the formation of similar organizations; for though the cooperatives represented the simplest and most practical solution to the silk-reeling industry's economic difficulties, they still had to prove themselves profitable before being widely accepted. Once this was done, the number of cooperatives increased rapidly. All were essentially replicas of the pioneer organizations, although few of them attempted to achieve the degree of centralization that characterized Kaimeisha.

Whatever its structure, each cooperative packaged and shipped 285

its silk thread collectively; some, including Kaimeisha,

eventually undertook joint purchases of raw material as

well.^^ The result was a substantial saving for the

individual producer, who was relieved of the need to spend

time and money on that part of the production process, and

who could therefore concentrate his energies on reeling the

thread. Beyond this, however, the fact that capital was

pooled by members of the cooperative meant that as a group

producers had the opportunity to invest in areas which, had

they acted individually, would have been far beyond their

grasp. Thus, for example, Tôkôsha was able to secure the

assistance of three of Rokkusha's founders, and other places hired technical personnel to help them improve the quality of

their output.Kaimeisha spent a good deal of money

devising a set of ceramic pipes to replace the cooper ones

which most filatures used and which tended, as copper basins had done, to discolor the silk thread; once perfected, the

pipes were cheaper and more easily produced than copper ones;

in addition, since they absorbed less heat they were more

efficient and less hazardous, factors which helped increase

productivity.

Quality problems in Nagano's raw silk output, as much

a consequence of a shortage of capital as of producers'

eagerness to cash in on the market, could finally be

addressed because the cooperatives left producers with more

time to tackle them. In addition, since cooperatives usually 286 classified their output according to quality and distributed receipts on the basis of these assessments, producers had immediate incentive to improve their production methods. The apparent willingness of producers to subject their wares to classification and their filatures to the scrutiny of the inspectors employed by most of the organizations reflected a concern for quality which had not been evident before. This same concern for quality, or at least for uniformity, prompted most cooperatives to introduce collective rereeling 77 facilities during the 1880's ; by unifying this process, one of the more crucial steps in the production of raw silk, the cooperatives ensured that the thread they sold would be of reasonably consistent weight and fineness, and would, not incidentally, command higher prices from Western buyers. The directors of Kaimeisha, whose commencement of cooperative rereeling led to a general adoption of the process in the

Suwa area, summmed up the advantages they derived as follows;

Quality varied as long as member filatures did their own rereeling, and criticism from Western buyers was unavoidable .... Collective rereeling had three advantages for us: producers were spared the job of doing it themselves and could concentrate on thread production; inspection of finished thread could be done at one place, thereby making it fairer and more precise; and operational expenses for our organization were r e d u c e d .

The cooperatives also succeeded in changing the economic arrangements under which Nagano's silk industry had long operated. Until these organizations were founded, most producers were forced to rely on local merchants to handle 287

their raw silk and to see that it was sold in Yokohama.

Consigning goods to these middlemen was expensive, but less

so than if producers had had to transport their wares

themselves, in which case shipping costs would have all but

eliminated profits. The cooperatives handled enough raw silk

to make it feasible for them to ship their own merchandise to

Yokohama, thus eliminating the costly reliance on third parties and virtually shutting the local merchants out of the 79 traffic in raw silk produced by machine. In addition,

the cooperatives opened up new— and sorely needed— sources of money for their members. Most of the organizations included one or more large-scale producers of more than average means, and while these people generally dominated the cooperatives, they also enjoyed rather cozy and long-established ties with

silk wholesalers in Yokohama. That being the case, they were able to secure for themselves and for the cooperatives to which they belonged advantageous terms of sale for their output and, more importantly, financing on a scale previously

unavailable to Nagano's mechanized filatures. Producers were able to obtain freight drafts for their raw silk, and could

use these as collateral to obtain cocoons for the next BO reeling season. Prior to the rise of the cooperatives,

few, if any, of the prefecture's less financially secure silk

producers had access to outside financial help of any kind.

The new arrangements with the Yokohama wholesalers were

finalized over a period of years from the late 1870's, but 288 once firmly established they became the norm for mechanized filatures in Nagano. Loans from wholesalers were relatively easy to obtain, since producers had the backing of their cooperatives, and were available on easier terms than could 81 be had elsewhere.

The domination of a cooperative by one large-scale filature, or at most by a few of them, was typical of the organizations. Within most cooperatives, there was a considerable variation in the size of member filatures; in extreme cases, the largest filatures had over twenty times as 82 many reeling units as the smallest ones. The latter benefited most immediately from affiliation with a cooperative, since it allowed them to take advantage of economies of scale which were well beyond their individual means, and it afforded them free access to the usually superior technology of larger operations. But the relationship between large and small producers in the cooperatives was a reciprocal one where both sides benefited: although the participation of large filatures made retailing and credit far easier for all concerned, without the small producers who usually constituted the bulk of the cooperatives the organizations could not have been formed in the first place. In addition, particularly before the 1890's one can speak of size only in relative terms, because the overwhelming majority of Nagano's filatures were very small. "Large" operations were usually not in much 289 better position than other places, though some of them had 83 better connections and a sounder financial basis.

Developed out of necessity, the cooperatives were from the

start marriages of convenience. The commitment on the part of most producers was less to the cooperative in an abstract

sense, or to the members of the cooperative, than to the advantages they derived from the system. As a result, the organizations were rather unstable, fluid confederations. It was not at all uncommon for producers to ship their raw silk via two cooperatives, or to change their affiliation on an 84 almost annual basis. Cooperatives were continually being disbanded and recreated, the new organizations frequently being little different from their predecessors except for the absence of a few disgruntled producers or the addition of new ones. It has been stated that this instability was a product of severe competition between cooperatives, and of the fundamental weakness of the smaller ones.^^ Large cooperatives were undoubtedly at an advantage, but they were not significantly more stable than their smaller counterparts; both Kaimeisha and Tôkôsha, for example, saw part of their membership split off and form other cooperatives in the 1880's. A n d while competition did affect the fortunes of some cooperatives, the fact remains that there was still, at this point, a substantial willingness to encourage the prosperity of the industry as a whole— a wllingness which helps to account for the speed with 290 which changes in technology and organization spread from one cooperative to another. Even when some producers disassociated themselves from a particular cooperative, the results could be salutory; Tôkôsha, for example, lost part of its membership in 1880 when producers dissatisfied with its policies decided to form their own organization, but thereafter both groups prospered, suggesting that even as separate entities they operated on more or less amicable 87 terms. Similarly the fact that cooperatives which disbanded often reappeared shortly thereafter under a new name and with much the same membership indicates that disagreements among members were apparently overridden by a 88 pragmatic appreciation of the need to work in concert.

In one form or another, then, cooperatives continued to dominate Nagano's silk-reeling industry through the

1880's; but by the middle of the next decade the structure began to collapse. Several factors led to this. The system's aforementioned instability tended to grow more serious over time, as the gap between large and small filatures widened. Tôkôsha's loss of membership had, in fact, stemmed from problems in this area: a dispute over the distribution of the cooperative's revenues prompted some producers with smaller, less sophisticated operations to 89 secede. Smaller cooperatives sometimes fell apart when their members sought entry into larger, more secure ones, though the latter were also not entirely immune to collapse. 291

In some cases, cooperatives found themselves victims of their own success: by the 1890's, some had accomplished their

primary objective of providing their members with a certain degree of financial security, at which point the organizations were, especially for some larger filatures, 90 less a help than a hindrance. A few of the most powerful and tightly structured cooperataives, including Kaimeisha,

survived into the 1900's, but they were the exceptions

The organizations were, after all, born of expediency, and in those instances where the needs that gave rise to their establishment no longer existed, or were no longer perceived to exist, they became dysfunctional.

In too many cases, however, the cooperatives do not appear to have been particularly beneficial in the long run, whatever their short-term achievements. A survey of Nagano's mechanized silk-reeling industry taken in 1893 revealed that less than a third of the filatures then in operation had existed a decade earlier, and less than half had been open

for five years or more. The situation was better in Suwa county, particularly the Hirano area, and partly as a result

Suwa was now more dominant than ever, accounting for 211 of 92 Nagano's filatures. But the prefecture's silk-reeling industry as a whole benefited from the cooperative system only to a limited degree. The rate at which filatures failed, while not as serious as before, was still high.

There was, as there had been, no shortage of prospective silk 292 entrepreneurs, so that Nagano never relinquished its preeminent position in the industry despite the instability of most of its filatures and the mixed legacy of the cooperatives. Resilient as ever, the industry continued to expand, even more rapidly than before; production almost doubled during the 1890's, and went up even more quickly the 93 following decade.

Conclusion

By the 1890's, mechanized silk reeling in Nagano was sufficiently well established for the prefecture to stand far ahead of the rest of Japan and to retain its commanding position throughout the prewar period. The basis for this was set down in the first two decades of the Meiji era; such development as was accomplished during these early years determined, to a large degree, the course mechanized silk reeling was to take thereafter in Nagano and, by extension, since the prefecture was so dominant, in other areas of

Japan. Although there were important technological and organizational changes in the ensuing decades, in many respects the industry was to remain unaltered throughout these years. In this sense, the first twenty years of the

Meiji period assume a particular significance, and it is important to recognize what kind of mechanization was achieved during that time, as well as how and why. 293

One of the more notable features of Nagano's

mechanized silk reeling was, as we have seen, a marked

tendency toward geographical concentration. In 1883,

eighty-four per cent of the prefecture's mechanized filatures

were located in its southern counties; ten years later the

figure had dropped to eighty per cent, but only because the

absolute number of filatures in Nagano dropped as larger ones 94 expanded and, in some cases, absorbed smaller ones.

Within the south, Suwa's preeminent position became ever

stronger: it had twenty-five per cent of Nagano's mechanized

filatures in 1883, and a remarkable forty-seven per cent in 95 1893. At the outset at least, economic factors did much

to assure that southern Nagano would mechanize more rapidly

than elsewhere in the prefecture. Foreign trade decimated

the thriving cotton industry and forced peasants to fall back

on silk reeling, which had been for most a subsidiary pursuit

if indeed they had pursued it at all. Lacking any

substantial attachment, such as their counterparts in

northern Nagano displayed, to traditional reeling methods,

and confronted by the need to fill a sudden and very large

gap in their income, peasants in the south turned to

mechanized silk reeling with an alacrity that was not seen

anywhere else in Japan.

Still, this does not entirely explain what happened, because even within southern Nagano mechanized silk reeling

was increasingly concentrated in Suwa county. In 1883, 294

Higashi-chikuma and Kami-ina counties both had eighty per

cent as many filatures as did Suwa, but a decade later the

figures for both counties had dropped drastically while in

Suwa the number of filatures had almost doubled.

Higashi-chikuma lost all of the ninety-six filatures it had had in 1883, a catastrophe just barely mitigated by the establishment of twenty-one new ones; the situation was 96 similarly grim in Kami-ina. Yet these counties had been

Suwa's closest rivals in terms of numbers. By 1393, Suwa had

fully five times as many filatures as any other county in the south. This enormous discrepancy cannot wholly be ascribed to ease of shipment to Yokohama, to abundant supplies of running water (essential particularly for water-powered operations), or the like; the differences here were relative— and relatively minor at that. More important, it seems, was the fact that growth begat growth. From the late

1870's, Suwa consistently had a large number of filatures; new ones were established just as quickly as old ones collapsed, and filatures dominated many areas, particularly

Hirano, both physically and economically. The sheer density of filatures, as well as the willingness of their owners to share their techniques with others, made it easier than anywhere else in the nation to find out how to take up mechanized silk reeling and make a go of it. There was a wealth of "models" to choose from in the area, and it took less time and money to do so here. It is difficult to 295 overestimate the importance of this proximity— as well as, in some cases, the obvious success— of established filatures in persuading others to enter the industry,

Suwa differed little from Nagano's other counties, however, in one respect: its silk-reeling industry received virtually no public assistance during the early Meiji years.

The central government's preoccupation with bailing out the nation's disenfranchised bushi, particularly those who were most inclined to give dangerous vent to their frustration and anger, left very little money available for, for example,

Nagano's silk producers; most of the latter were peasants anyway, and as such were viewed as subjects to be taxed, not helped. Rokkusha did succeed in obtaining a sizeable loan from the central government which probably saved it from bankruptcy, but the filature was owned by bushi; a loan of the same magnitude went out to another bushi-run 97 establishment in 1879. There were only two documented exceptions to the rule. One was a loan made in 1877 to a 98 wealthy merchant who ran a filature in northern Nagano.

The other was a loan made in 1876 to a large filature in the prefecture's former capital, Nakano; in this case, the prefectural government supervised the operation's construction and management since it regarded it as an important part of its attempt to resuscitate the area's badly 99 battered economy. Both of these loans were far smaller than the amount given to the bushi; and after 1879 no money 296 at all went to Nagano, though there were plenty of requests, and though it was obvious by that time that much of the silk-reeling industry's growth was taking place in that single prefecture.

Partly to make up for the lack of concern manifested by officials in Tomioka, and partly in reaction to a highly critical assessment of the area's mechanized filatures by

Hayami Kenzo, the Nagano prefectural government decided in

1878 to build its own model filature along the lines of what had been done at Tomioka. Hayami, typically, advised against the plan, but officials went ahead, hired Rokkusha's founder as director and a Tomioka veteran as chief instructor, purchased a British-made boiler in Yokohama, and began operations in August. Though considerably less grandiose than Tomioka— it was, to start, one-sixth the size— it was equally ill-conceived and even less successful as a model.

The boiler alone was well beyond what most ordinary producers could afford to spend altogether; no one could reasonably imitate the place, and no one appears to have. Even as a training center for young women the filature was of dubious utility, since the government inexplicably mustered a group of women already well versed in reeling silk by machine.

Hayami toured the filature twice, and though he found it in good order he predicted that it would soon run into trouble.

In the end, he was correct; after three years, the prefectural government decided to wash its hands of the 297 business, and in late 1882 finally managed to find a buyer for the place.

The prefectural government's failure here was all the more unfortunate because a large amount of money had been invested in the filature, and the funds could have been used far more wisely as loans to struggling producers. By the late 1870's the need was certainly obvious, and yet both the central and prefectural governments failed to respond to any meaningful degree. In the absence of assistance from these quarters, producers who managed to stay in business devised their own financial arrangements, most notably through the cooperatives. Though far from ideal, these organizations provided producers with the strength of numbers and, through ties built up over time with Yokohama wholesalers, gave their members, for the first time, access to funding. The cooperatives were the first sustained attempt to come to grips with basic problems of limited resources and limited knowledge. That they were wholly private in conception and in execution reflects the resourcefulness of Nagano's mechanized silk-reeling industry. It also explains the industry's tooth and nail opposition to the government's attempts to group producers into officially sponsored associations: nothing could have excited producers wrath more than the attempt by a government that had heretofore ignored them to superimpose its own notions about how things ought to be done. The cooperatives outlasted the 298 government's clumsy acitivities, and it is hardly surprising; the balance of competence, such as it was, lay heavily in favor of the producers themselves.

Considering the times and the circumstances, the mechanization of Nagano's silk-reeling industry was an impressive achievement; but viewed objectively, it was severely limited in scope and degree. After touring the prefecture's filatures in 1877, Hayami Kenzo declared that most places were extremely superficial imitations of Tomioka and Tsukiji, that few of their owners knew how to run or maintain the equipment they had installed, and that most 102 faced serious financial difficulties. The dismally high failure rate which persisted through the 1870's and 1880's for most areas of the prefecture certainly lends credence to

Hayami's dour prognosis. Available figures indicate that the establishment of new filatures more than made up in numerical terms for the collapse of established ones, but the relatively short life span of most operations made it impossible for all but a few of them to afford sustained development and sophistication of their techniques.

Moreover, the concentration of the industry in Suwa county is indicative of its extreme fragility elsewhere, and even in

Suwa the situation was hardly ideal. Reflecting on these early days of mechanized silk reeling, the authors of Hirano sonshi offered the following evaluation of the industry in that area: 299

In those days, whether a place was classified as mechanized or as traditional zaguri depended on how power was supplied and how thread was reeled onto frames. As long as all the frames revolved at the same time (either by a water wheel or by human labor), the women devoted themselves exclusively to reeling, and kenneru devices were used to join cocoon strands, a place was "mechanized." There were countless variations, all of them simple and all influenced by long-established methods.103

The situation did, in fact improve, as structural and technological innovations, including the cooperatives and

Kaimeisha's innovative use of ceramics, were made and widely adopted. Nagano's silk producers were also able, in time, to produce raw silk which, though rarely if ever the equal of

Europe's finer output, was better than had been turned out by either zaguri producers or the prefecture's earliest mechanized filatures. Prices eventually reflected this, thereby making worthwhile the whole laborious process of establishing a mechanized operation or converting from zaguri to a mechanized process. The remarkable growth that did occur during the first two decades of the Meiji era was always circumscribed by limits— principally, but not exclusively, financial limits— to what was possible, and was therefore far more a quantitative than a qualitative achievement. Still, it was enough to lay the framework for subsequent and even more impressive development, in terms of both quantity and quality. 300

Notes to Chapter IV.

iHirano, HS, 2:107-8.

^Based on figures in Ibid., pp. 166-67, Ishii, Nihon sanshigyS shi bunseki, p. 129, and Takeda, "1870 Nendai Nagano-ken kikai seishi no tenkai katei no kentS, "Shinano, vol. 30 no. 2:111.

3lshii, Nihon sanshigyo shi bunseki, p. 129, table 22.

^Based on figures in Shinano, SSS, 3:1423-29 and Yokohama Shi, Yokohama shishi, 3, pt. 1:474.

^Ehado Akira, Sanshigyo chiiki no keizai chiriteki kenkyu (Tokyo: Kokon Shoin, 1969), pp. 65-66.

Gsee Shinano, SSS, 3:15,19. The only area in southern Nagano which had a substantial silk-reeling industry was present-day lida.

?Ueda Shishi Hensan linkai, ed. Ueda kindai shi (Ueda: Ueda-shi, 1970), p. 263. Double zaguri reeling (see chapter 1) was introduced during this period.

Sibid., p. 261.

^Shinano, SSS, 3:48, 111, 130.

l^Based on information in Miyamoto Mataji, Ono gumi no kenkyu 4 vols. (Tokyo: Ohara Shinsei Sha, 1970), 3:157-71, 178-81.

lllbid., pp. 178-81; Okumura, Koban kiito watetsu, p. 1 0 0 .

12por examples, see Otsuka, Sanshi, 1:328 and Takeda, "1870 Nendai Nagano-ken kikai seishi no tenkai katei no kento, "Shinano vol. 30 no. 2:112-15.

l^Based on information in Ibid., pp. 111-14 and vol. 30 no. 3:221; Higashi-chikuma-gun Matsumoto-shi Shiojiri-shi Kyodo Shiryo Hensankai, ed. Higashi-chikuma-gun Matsumoto-shi Shiojiri-shi shi , vol. 3 pt. 1 Gendai:934; and Shinano, SSS, 3:145, 187-90, 231-33.

l^Takeda, "1870 Nendai Nagano-ken kikai seishi no tenkai katei no kento, "Shinano vol. 30. no. 2:112-116. One producer, Seki Kikunosuke, began his operation without Ono's financial assistance but with part of his technology based on 301

Ono's methods. Pressed for funds a year after he opened, Seki sold his filature to Ono, though he apparently continued to serve as director.

l^Based on information in Ibid., pp. 117-18.

IGibid., p. 116.

l^Quoted in Hirano, HS, 2:146.

l^Takeda, "1870 Nendai Nagano-ken kikai seishi no tenkai katei no kento," Shinano vol. 30 no. 2:113.

l^See, for example, Hirano, HS, 2:138-46, and Takeda and Ito, "SeishigyS no tenkai," pp. 458-60.

20sased on figures in Suwa Shishi Hensan linkai, ed. Suwa shishi (Suwa: Suwa Shiyakusho, 1976), p. 304.

2lMiyamada Filature, for example, had a system whereby workers were ranked and paid according to productivity. It also had a set of rules which prescribed, among other things, the duties for which workers were responsible, the number of hours to be spent reeling each day, and even the kind of food to be served. All of this— and particularly the fact that it was all written down— was a major departure from traditional rural practices. For Miyamada's rules, see Hirano, HS, 2:142-45.

22lbid., p. 141. Since the Italian method called for two women to operate each reeling unit, the work force at Miyamada was roughly double the number of reeling units used.

23Suwa Shishi Hensan Inkai, Suwa shishi, p. 305. 24ibid.

25The only extant source of information in this regard are the reports written by producers for the 1880 kyoshinkai, all of which are included in Nagano Kencho Kangyôka, "Dai ikkai kyoshinkai shinkokusho." Relevant reports are reprinted in Takeda, "1870 Nendai Nagano-ken kikai seishi no tenkai katei no kento." Miyamoto cites additional filatures assisted by Ono in Ono gumi no kenkyu 3:195-97, though without documentation.

26gaged on information in Takeda, "1870 Nagano-ken kikai seishi no tenkai katei no kento," Shinano, vol. 30 no. 2:118.

27The best available analysis of this process is Ibid. 302

28Ehado Akira estimates that as late as 1885, by which time peasants presumably had more money to spend on silk reeling, the average initial investment per reeling unit in Hirano was only thirty yen. This is less than half of what Rokkusha had invested a decade earlier. See Ehado, SanshigyS chiiki no keizai chiriteki kenkyu, pp. 72-73.

29por average thread prices for the years 1858-1914, see NôshômushS NSmukyoku, Sanshigyo ni kansuru sanko shiryo, pp. 60-62; for some short-term fluctuations, see Suwa Shishi Hensan linkai, Suwa shishi, p. 306.

30Quoted in Aoyama Hidehiko, "Hongenteki chikusekiki ni okeru chihS kin'yu jijS: Ono gumi to Kaisansha yori mitaru," Nihon rekishi 173 (October 1962):63.

31see Takeda, "1870 Nagano-ken kikai seishi no tenkai katei no kento," Shinano vol. 30. no. 2:116. Additionally, an examination of the 1880 kyoshinkai reports beyond those cited by Takeda shows that few producers mention, at least, having had silk reeling experience of any kind prior to the Meiji period. See Nagano Kencho Kangyôka, "Dai iddai kyoshinkai shinkokusho: kiito no bu. "

^^The West preferred the finer thread produced by Tomioka's French-based techniques. This became less important over time as the less discriminating American market began to consume the bulk of Japan's silk exports, but through the early 1880's, France far outranked other countries as the ultimate destination of Japanese raw silk. For figures, see Ishii, Nihon sanshigyo shi bunseki, p. 41, table 4.

33see statements in this regard by Nagano producers in Takeda, "1870 Nagano-ken kikai seishi no tenkai katei no kento," Shinano vol. 30 no. 2:112-13.

34wada, Tomioka nikki, pp. 76-77. For a list of Rokkusha's founders, see Shinano, SSS, 3:163.

35lbid., pp. 163-64 and Dai Nihon Sanshikai, Nihon sanshigyo shi, p. 60. This same merchant, Katsuyama Shüzaburô, purchased Maibashi Filature in 1876, and served as cocoon supplier to Tomioka Filature.

^^The report is reprinted in Shinano, SSS, 3:169-72.

37lbid., p. 181.

38gee Ibid., pp. 584-616, especially p. 615. 303

39Takashima, Shinano sangyô enkaku shiryo, p. 153.

40shinano, SSS. 3:1223.

43-The investor is quoted to this effect in Hirano, HS, 2:149.

42por a first-hand description of Rokkusha's experience here, see Ibid., pp. 148-49.

43por information on Nakayamasha, see Ibid., pp. 152-58; Takeda and Ito, "Seishigyo no tenkai," pp. 466-69; and Shinano, SSS, 3:209-22.

44sased on the above sources, especially pp. 157-58, pp. 466-67 and pp. 218-22, respectively.

45Hirano, HS, 2:154.

46ibid., pp. 347-48 and Shinano, SSS, 3:1132.

47sased on figures in Yokohama Shi, Yokohama shishi, 3, pt. 1:519. In "1870 Nagano-ken kikai seishi no tenkai katei no kento," Shinano vol. 30 no. 2:111, Takeda estimates that there were 395 filatures in Nagano as of 1879. The actual figure was almost certanly higher, though not by much.

48por an exception to this, see Nagano Kenshi Kankokai, Nagano kenshi kindaishi shiryohen, 5, pt. 3, document no. 340:599.

49gee Shinano, SSS, 3:187.

S^This is not to suggest that all, or even most, producers who began to reel silk using the zaguri method subsequently converted to some kind of mechanized reeling; indeed, such resistence as existed to the latter was primarily among these producers. But on the whole, resistence was notably lacking in southern Nagano, and this fact makes it much more likely that many of those who did take up mechanized reeling had had some prior experience with the zaguri method.

Slpor example, Ishii, Nihon shanshigyo shi bunseki, pp. 111-112.

52The sentiment was expressed by producers in meetings with government officials; see chapter 3 and NôshômushS NSmukyoku, Seishi shijunkai kiji, pp. 125-26, 138-43. 304

SSsased on figures in Shinano, SSS, 3:503-22.

54ibid., pp. 397-400, 503-22, 584-616, 715-40.

SSNôshômushô NSmukyoku, SanshigyS ni kansuru sanko shiryo, pp. 60-61.

56por a summary of price changes within individual years, see Hashimoto, Kiito bSeki no hensen, pp. 74-81.

57see statistics in Takahashi Keizai Kenkyujo, Nihon sanshigyo hattatsu shi, pp. 40-2-3; the figures are based on official export reports and in information released on the occasion of the third national exhibition.

SSshinano, SSS, 3:503-22.

59lbid.

G^Ehado, SanshigyS chiiki no keizai chiriteki kenkyu, pp. 72-73.

^^The full report is reprinted in Nagano Kenshi KankSkai, Nagano kenshi kindaishi shiryShen, 5, pt. 3, document no. 355:427-28.

62sased on a comparison of statistics in Shinano, SSS, 3:503-22 and 584-616.

G3lbid., pp. 584-615.

an example, see Takashimar Shinano sangyS enkaku shiryS, pp. 166-67.

GSshinano, SSS, 3:1030-31.

GGyokohama Shi, Yokohama shishi, 3, pt. 1:523; Takeda and Ito, "SeishigyS no tenkai," p. 488.

67shinano, SSS, 3:950.

68lbid., p. 1051.

G^Based on information in Ibid., pp. 222-29, Takeda and Ito, "SeishigyS no tenkai,", p. 488, and Hirano, H S , 2:170-213.

70Takeda and Ito, "SeishigyS no tenkai," pp. 482-83.

7lReprinted in Shinano, SSS, 3:960-62. 305

72Reprinted in Ibid., pp. 950-52.

^^Takeda and Ito, "SeishigyS no tenkai," pp. 483, 489.

^^Hirano, HS, 2:202 and Shinano, SSS, 3:958.

75por examples, see Shinano, SSS, 3:223, 225.

■76Ibid. , p. 1132; Hirano, HS, 2:347-49.

7?Shinano, SSS, 3:223, 1049; Hirano, HS, 2:192. Actually, Tokosha had begun this in 1878; Kaimeisha was not the first to do cooperative rereeling in Hirano, but its success in that respect led to its adoption by others in the area. Rereeling was essential to keep newly-reeled silk threads separate and to prevent them from sticking to the reeling frame.

78Quoted in Hirano, HS, 2:195.

7^Yamaguchi Kazuo, ed. Nihon sangyô kin'yu shi kenkyu: seishi kin'yS hen (Tokyo: Tokyo Daigaku Shuppankai, 1966), p. 170.

SOcocoon purchases have been estimated to account for eighty per cent of a producer's annual expenses during these years. See Takeda and Ito, "Seishigyo no tenkai," p. 498.

Slpor examples, see Ibid., pp. 480-81. The best general treatment of financing for the silk industry is Yamaguchi, Nihon sangyô kin'yu shi kenkyu: seishi kin'yu hen. According to Shinano, SSS, 3:1293, most wholesalers did not even require collateral of their clients.

82por relevant statistics on nine of the cooperatives as of 1893, see Yamaguchi, Nihon sangyô kin'yu shi kenkyu: seishi kin'yu h e n , p. 164.

83ln 1883, for example, 70 per cent of Nagano's mechanized filatures had no more than 20 reeling units; 40 per cent had 15 or fewer. Based on statistics in Shinano, SSS, 3:584-616.

84nirano, HS, 2:178.

S^Yamaguchi, Nihon sangyô kin'yu shi kenkyu: seishi kin'yü hen, p. 161.

86Ibid. 306

B^Shinano, SSS, 3:1051; Suzaka-shi Jinbutsu Shi Henshü linkai, ed. Suzaka-shi jinbutsu shi (Suzaka: Suzaka Shiyakusho, 1966), pi 72l The authors of the latter work maintain that Tokosha and its offshoot, Shunmeisha, shared information and worked together to improve quality; they offer, however, nothing to back this up.

SSpor examples, see Hirano, HS, 2:203, 206.

89shinano, SSS, 3:1050.

90Takeda and Ito, "Seishigyo no tenkai," p. 489.

91pigures in Hirano, HS, pp. 201-13 indicate that all but one of the four cooperatives in Hirano which managed to continue into the twentieth century (Yajimasha, Kaimeisha, Shin'eisha and Ryujokan) had a significantly higher number of reeling units than other cooperatives. Two of them, Kaimeisha and Ryujokan, were dominated by filatures far larger than those in any other cooperative. See also Yamaguchi, Nihon sangyô kin'yu shi kenkyu: seishi kin'yu hen, p. 164.

92sased on statistics in Shinano, SSS, 3:715-40 and Yokohama Shi, Yokohama shishi, 3, pt. 1:523. Hirano had a much higher average number of reeling units per filature than any other area in the prefecture, and unlike most other areas had experienced consistent increases in scale and output.

93Yokohama Shi, ed. Yokohama shishi, vol. 4, pt. 1 (Yokohama: Yûrindo, 1965 ):49.

9^Based on statistics in Shinano, SSS, 3:584-616, 715-40. 95ibid.

9Gnirazawa Kiyohito, "Meiji 10-20 nendai Nagano-ken kikai sishi kôgyô kakuritsuki no ikkosatsu," Shinano vol. 5 no. 9 (September, 1953):21; Shinano, SSS, 3:736-37.

97ôtsuka, Sanshi, 2:60.

98Nagano Kenshi Kankokai, Nagano kenshi kindaishi shiryShen, 5, pt. 3, document no. 340:599.

99por details, see Shinano, SSS, 3:187-95. Peasant riots and the removal of the prefectural government offices had led to serious economic problems in the area.

lOOpQj. examples, see Ibid., pp. 1268-88. 307

lOlpor documents relating to this filature, see Ibid., pp. 401-53; for Hayami's views, see Otsuka, Sanshi, 1:404, 416, 429.

lO^Otsuka, Sanshi, 1:402.

lOSsirano, HS, 2:151. CHAPTER V

THE FAILURE OF MECHANIZATION;

SILK REELING IN GUNMA PREFECTURE

At the outset of the Meiji period, no prefecture in

Japan seemed more likely to succeed in mechanizing its silk-reeling industry than Gunma. For a century before trade began with the West, the region had been Japan's foremost producer of silk products; it had also been the source for most of the advances in reeling technology that occurred during the Tokugawa Shogunate, as well as the site of one of the two attempts before 1868 to devise a system whereby silk-reeling frames were turned by a power source independent of the reelers.^ Gunma's dominance continued in the years after 1859: production of raw silk within the han that ultimately constituted the prefecture more than doubled by

1863, and Western buyers rated the quality of their output higher than that of any other raw silk exported from Japan 2 during the first years of trade. Buoyed by the apparently insatiable demand for silk products on the export market,

Gunma's silk-reeling industry should have been, by almost any measure, least likely to encounter serious difficulties in its attempt to mechanize after the Meiji Restoration.

Indeed, it was in Gunma that Japan's first Western-style

308 309

filature was established at Maebashi. From this perspective,

the central government's selection of Tomioka, long one of

Gunma's foremost silk-producing areas, as the location for

its first, and only, sustained attempt to import and diffuse

Western silk-reeling technology appears eminently logical.

At the time, even the most cautious of observers might

reasonably have concluded that in Gunma, if anywhere, the

attempt would succeed in prompting others to take similar

action.

In the end, though, the attempt did not succeed.

Gunma*s producers of raw silk, after having led the way

technologically for decades, responded to the influx of new

reeling methods and to their domestic adaptations by doggedly

clinging to established patterns of production, and by making

only minimal adjustments elsewhere in response to the

exigencies of the export market. As a result, mechanization

made scarcely a dent in the prefecture's silk production

process; as late as 1889, eighty-five per cent of its raw

/ silk was still being reeled by the old zaguri technique,

whereas in neighboring Nagano precisely the same percentage

was being turned out on Western-style machinery of one sort

or another. Gunma's retreat into technological inertia

paralleled Nagano's rapid, if not always immediately

successful, absorption of new reeling methods; and by the

early twentieth century producers from Gunma, responding at

last to the necessity of mechanizing if they were to remain 310

competitive, were purchasing machinery from their

counterparts in Nagano.^ That in some instances the

machinery had been discarded by their former owners in favor of newer varieties was no obstacle to the sale; it was still an improvement over what Gunma's producers had been using.

This striking transformation of Gunma's silk-reeling

industry from one which innovated to one which imitated was by no means preordained. The prefecture was in the technological vanguard before and after the treaty ports opened, and it could well have maintained that position after

1363, particularly because in many ways it was in a better position than the rest of the country to come to grips with the new techniques imported from the West. Because Tomioka and Maebashi Filatures were located within the prefecture's borders, Gunma's silk reelers certainly did not lack for the opportunity to learn close at hand how they might mechanize.

The sheer fact that visiting these places involved neither much time nor much expense should, one might reasonably conclude, have vastly increased the attention they were accorded by those in the area whose livelihood depended, at least in part, on silk. The geographical concentration of silk-reeling operations that so facilitated mechanization in

Nagano was less pronounced in Gunma, but it was still strong enough to have had the potential for much the same effect.

Throughout the first thirty years of the Meiji period, the

Maebashi region produced about one-third of the prefecture's 311

raw silk, and much of the remainder was produced by a few

other counties where the industry was well established.^

And finally, Gunma's silk-reeling industry was the object of

far greater financial munificence on the part of the

government than was true of the industry in Nagano, or indeed

in any other prefecture. Elsewhere, money was usually

distributed among a greater number of recipients, but the

gross amount of funding that went to Gunma's silk-reeling

industry was the highest in the nation.^ Theoretically, all of these advantages ought to have made Gunma an unusually

fertile area for the diffusion and development of new silk-reeling techniques. The task, then, is to consider why they had no such consequence; why Gunma's silk reelers chose to ignore— and, indeed, were able to ignore— what was new, even as their neighbors and erstwhile technological subalterns took up the task of doing just the opposite.

Early Attempts at Mechanization in Gunma

That mechanization would not make rapid headway in

Gunma's silk-reeling industry was made obvious by the almost total lack of local receptivity to the region's, and the nation's, first Western-style filatures. Tomioka, which remained Japan's most sophisticated filature for over two decades, evoked virtually no response within the prefecture.

As we have seen, a large number of women from Gunma underwent training in mechanized reeling techniques at Tomioka; but 312 over half of them completed their stay at the filature within the first few years after it opened, a period during which trainees were sent not out of a wish to have them pick up new skills but because their usually bushi parents were less able than others to evade officials requests that they volunteer their daughters to work at the place. In other prefectures, producers occasionally pooled their funds to send young women to Tomioka for training, and then had these women serve as 7 instructors at local filatures after they returned. But there are no existing documents indicating that similar action was taken by anyone in Gunma. Almost certainly some producers did send women to Tomioka specifically to be trained, but the absence of evidence for this suggests that it was not at all common. Similarly, there is only one instance on record where a Gunma silk producer took it upon himself to build a filature based on Tomioka*s technology.

The resulting operation, which began with a work force of thirty-six women (none, apparently, from Tomioka Filature itself) and later expanded to fifty, was relatively large and, situated as it was directly across from the government's venture, ought to have been a rather faithful copy of the original. But when Hayami Kenzo and a group of officials from the Home Affairs Ministry inspected the place in 1878, Q they found it shabby, poorly run and deeply in debt. Not surprisingly, this filature did nothing to encourage others in the area to mechanize, though in this respect it was no 313 more a failure than Tomioka itself.

Because it offered a technology vastly simpler and cheaper than Tomioka's« Maebashi Filature enjoyed more success within Gunma in spawning imitations; but even in this case, success was very limited. The initial reaction to the filature was certainly inauspicious enough in this regard, though neither Hayami Kenzo nor anyone else appears to have taken much notice of the fact. The local animosity over the presence of a Western advisor was understandable: most of

Japan had been closed to foreigners for two hundred years, and the nation had just come through a brief period when expelling or killing non-Japanese had been deemed an act of consummate patriotism. But this xenophobia was less of a check on the ability of Maebashi Filature to exert any influence than the other major reason for the hostile reception the area's silk producers and merchants gave the novel operation. To them, the filature represented a threat to established, and profitable, production and retail arrangements— and a needless threat at that, since the area's silk thread had long been highly prized.^ This reaction was strikingly different from that generated in Nagano by

Miyamada and other filatures a short time later, when such apprehension as initially arose quickly gave way to attempts to build similar establishments. In southern Nagano at least, existing or prospective silk reelers had no long-established patterns of production to fall back on or 314 defend; in Gunma, on the other hand, patterns were deeply entrenched, having existed and served as sources of considerable prosperity for decades, and they would not be easily dislodged.

Still, some headway was made in the mechanization of

Gunma's silk-reeling industry, though it was meager indeed when measured against concurrent trends in Nagano. The prefecture's first private attempt at mechanization in the

Meiji era was made by Tokue Hachiro in 1871. Apparently without reference to Maebashi Filature, Tokue had devised a small reeling machine which was essentially the same as the traditional zaguri model, but whose frames were connected to a water wheel serving as an independent power source. The operation was very small— it required only four women to handle the reeling frames— and there was little to differentiate it from Numaga Shigeichiro's unsuccessful attempt along similar lines in 1859, except that Tokue and his associates drew up plans to set up two hundred such establishments over a two-county area and, in anticipation of later cooperative ventures, to ship the silk thread thus produced collectively to Yokohama. For these purposes they obtained enthusiastic support, and a loan of three thousand yen, from the prefectural government. The organization that resulted, Kyokensha, amounted to at most twenty operations of the same tiny scale as Tokue's original. On the average, each place cost a mere sixty yen to establish; Nagano's 315

Rokkusha, itself no gleaming tribute to mechanized silk reeling, spent an equivalent amount on each one of its reeling units. Kyokensha was plagued from the start by problems of variations in output quality and by an unwillingness to cooperate on the part of producers within the group. In an effort to turn the situation around, Tokue even hired Caspar Mueller, veteran of Maebashi Filature, as technical advisor, though apparently to no end; Kyokensha collapsed in 1877.^^

Other attempts at mechanization in Gunma were less ambitious in scope than Tokue's venture had been, but in the end they met with more success. Maebashi Filature aroused little constructive interest within the prefecture but did manage to draw the attention of one Hoshino Chôtarô, who had had considerable experience with zaguri reeling but had become frustrated by problems with the quality of his output. In late 1877, Hoshino went to Maebashi Filature to examine its machinery and to seek the advice of Hayami Kenzo; the following year, he sent five people, including his wife and three daughters, to the filature for training, and finally opened his own operation in early 1874. Initially equipped to handle thirty-six workers, Hoshino*s Mizunuma

Filature eventually expanded to a work force of sixty women.

Hayami, whose activities at this point were still limited mostly to his native Gunma, went to the aid of the fledgling enterprise by dispatching two instructors to help get the 315

reeling under way.^^

Hayami was also instrumental in the establishment of

the first and only mechanized filature to be operated by bushi in Gunma. This operation, Kengyosha, opened in

September 1875 with a work force of ninety-six women, with

equipment modeled after the Italian-style machinery Hayami had used at Maebashi, and with a ten thousand yen loan from

the central government. Blessed with a strong financial base to start and with Hayami's guidance, Kengyosha became that rarity among business ventures handled by the disenfranchised warrior class— one that succeeded. It did well enough, in

fact, to expand its work force four years after opening and, at the same time, to convert to Tomioka's more sophisticated 12 reeling techniques. Hayami inspected the place in 1877 at the behest of the central government and lavishly praised

it as "a mechanized operation with no shortcomings, one which, with the addition of more capital, could become the 13 finest filature in the country." Though hardly an

impartial observer, Hayami was nonetheless never inclined to

spare criticism when he thought it was due; the fact that

Kengyosha was able to expand and to replace its equipment

indicates that, at the very least, it was operating on a

sound financial basis.

Under more favorable circumstances, none of these

filatures would merit much notice; there was nothing remarkable about them as silk-reeling operations per se. 317

Their singularity owes to- the fact that, along with the ramshackle establishment that fronted Tomioka Filature, they represented the sum and substance of Gunma's attempt at mechanizing its silk-reeling industry during the early Meiji years. They were not, in fact, unsuccessful in persuading others to try to reel silk by machine. Visitors came from as far away as Hokkaido and the Kansai area to investigate

Hoshino's Mizunuma Filature; Saitama silk producers sent women to Kengyosha for training; and even Tokue, despite the problems his project encountered, helped a Yamagata filature establish itself by sending machinery and an instructor.

But within Gunma the presence of these filatures, like Maebashi and Tomioka, was not enough to convince silk producers to abandon their traditional equipment for

Western-style machinery, however simplified. Only Tokue, whose machinery and methods were much simpler than what the others had to offer, managed to effect the creation of similar places; even these, though, were set up largely by dint of his own efforts, and they apparently collapsed before

Tokue himself abandoned his scheme. Not a single filature is known to have resulted from the presence and success in Gunma of Kengyosha or of Hoshino Chôtarô's operation.Both establishments were too large and costly to have allowed for duplication by others. Under like circumstances, this did not prove to be a major stumbling block in Nagano, where producers simply modified the scale and complexity of what 318 they had seen in accordance with their means; people in Gunma could have reacted in the same way. In fact, they reacted not only with an unwillingness to imitate what had been done, but with a decided lack of interest in these new filatures and a reluctance to have anything directly to do with them at all; as late as 1886, for example, Hoshino Chôtarô had to look beyond Gunma for almost half his labor force, and only ten per cent of his workers came from within the county.

Employment statistics are not available for Kengyosha, but if its owners encountered less difficulty finding women to reel their silk than Hoshino did, it seems likely that this was because most of those with a stake in the place were ex-bushi, and there was no lack of women from that class who had no recourse but to seek jobs wherever they could find them. Under the circumstances, that Kengyosha and Mizunuma

Filature managed to survive at all is impressive enough. As it was, they remained anomolies in their region, symbols of the lack rather than the extent of receptivity to new techniques; and their owners, having failed to excite any local interest in what they had done, turned to other, related acitvities as an outlet for their ambitions.

Cooperatives in Gunma: Preserving the Past

Although he enjoyed the distinction of owning and successfully operating one of Gunma's rare mechanized filatures, Hoshino Chôtarô's considerable influence on the prefecture's silk-reeling industry had almost nothing to do 319 with this achievement. In fact, he seems to have done little to encourage the spread of the new reeling techniques he had adopted, and to have accepted without much hesitation both the refusal of those around him to abandon traditional zaguri reeling and the necessity of operating under such circumstances. Consequently, whereas he might have expended his energies on a probably futile attempt to persuade his

fellow silk producers to change the way they reeled silk,

Hoshino instead chose to leave what appeared (to the producers at least) to be well enough alone, and set about persuading his cohorts to take additional measures beyond the reeling process itself to insure the success of their ventures. His most important and influential activity in this regard was the establishment of a cooperative organization, roughly along the lines of those set up in

Nagano shortly thereafter, whose objective was to rereel, package and ship silk thread jointly. As a result of

Hoshino's success in this area, similar organizations were created elsewhere in Gunma. These cooperatives were a crucial development for Gunma's silk-reeling industry, much more so than was to be the case in Nagano: they enabled tiny, backward zaguri operations to survive and even to prosper, thereby confirming their existence and postponing until very late the day when mechanization would become an imperative for survival.

Cooperative organizations were, if anything, an even 320 more logical development in Gunma than elsewhere as long as producers refused or were unable to convert to mechanized silk reeling. It was one thing for peasants to reel thread on the side and sell the product on the local market, quite another to get it to Yokohama and meet the specifications of purchasers there. The problem was even more serious in Gunma than elsewhere because most silk-reeling operations were extremely small-scale, usually done by peasant families during slack agricultural periods and rarely involving more than two reeling units. That being the case, Gunma's raw silk varied enormously in quality, thickness and sheen. In the first years of foreign trade. Western buyers in Yokohama bought thread from Gunma and elsewhere without protest;

Gunma's output was the best Japan had to offer, and in any case the silkworm blight in Europe and the devastation wrought on China's silk industry by the Taiping rebellion put an illusory premium on Japan's product. But the 1370's was a rather less benign era; production of silk products had picked up again in China and Europe, thereby depriving

Japanese producers of the privileged position they had enjoyed; and to this problem were added others. The quality of Japan's raw silk, including what Gunma produced, continued the deterioration that had begun in the 1860's as producers rushed to take advantage of the export market ; such thread uniformity as had obtained at first fell substantially as the number of silk producers increased. By the early Meiji 321 years, as we have seen, the price a producer could expect to receive for his raw silk on the Yokohama market began to reflect these problems.

It was, in fact, a dissatisfaction with prices that ultimately led Hoshino ChStaro to embark on his cooperative venture. Initial receipts from the sale of thread produced at his mechanized filature were disappointingly low, a situation Hoshino attributed to the machinations of Western purchasers in Yokohama rather than to any problems with the quality of what he had produced. To circumvent the usual retail route, he contracted with a British merchant in

Yokohama to ship his thread to Europe, where it would be sold on the silk market. Hoshino found as a result that direct retailing netted a substantially higher price for his raw silk than would have been the case had he relied on the services of Japanese wholesalers and Western purchasers in

Yokohama; but in the end, the shipping and handling fees charges by the merchant left him little better off than before. Finally, after receiving the endorsement of the prefectural government and a rather dubious Hayami Kenzo,

Hoshino sent his younger brother, Arai Ryôichirô, to the

United States in March 1876 with instructions to try his hand at selling Mizunuma Filature's silk there. Arai managed not only to sell the small amount of output he had taken at a price much higher than could usually be obtained in Yokohama, but to obtain an order for five hundred pounds more; and when 322 prices on the Yokohama market shot up that autumn to a

Meiji-era high, the American purchaser responded by raising his price as well and by concluding a long-term contract with Arai.^^

This unprecedented success in selling directly to

Western buyers gave rise to attempts, in Gunma and elsewhere, to export raw silk directly to the West and thereby avoid the widely disliked Western merchant houses in Yokohama. These attempts, of which more will be said later, were mostly short-lived and not very successful, and in the long run had far less impact on silk production in Gunma than the cooperatives which were established concurrently with, and often as part of, direct export ventures. Hoshino began setting up his cooperative organization shortly after his first successful sale in the United States. Having failed to induce his fellow silk producers to mechanize their operations, he made what he could of their intransigence by convincing about forty of them to institute more careful reeling methods and to rereel, bind and sell their output together. With Hayami's help, Hoshino devised rereeling equipment that, when used locally, made silk thread stronger and more uniform; the thread was then bound in the same manner as that produced by machine, and sent to the United

States in 1877. The price obtained thereby was considerably higher than could be had on the Yokohama market for raw silk produced by the usual zaguri process— i.e., without the 323 collective rereeling and binding instituted by Hoshino

Chôtarô. This, more than anything else, eliminated local suspicion with regard to Hoshino's activities, and his 18 cooperative rapidly expanded its membership.

Hoshino's success did not go unnoticed in other quarters. Higher prices were probably enough to arouse the interest of most producers; but just as importantly, Hoshino had the backing of Hayami Kenzô, who by that time was the most influential figure in the silk industry in

Gunma— indeed, in Japan. Hayami had been skeptical at first about the virtues of direct exports to the West, though

Hoshino's experience apparently convinced him of the merit of the effort; and he had for some time held that, in the absence of a wholesale conversion to mechanized reeling, silk producers would have to make precisely the kind of cooperative arrangements which Hoshino had proved to be so remunerative. At Hayami's urging, therefore, the directors of Kengyosha took steps to organize the silk-reeling industry in their area as Hoshino had done in his. In August 1877, they and other Maebashi bushi drew up a set of guidelines for their own cooperative venture, Seishi Kaisha. The scale they envisioned was much more ambitious than had been the case with Hoshino: the organization was to consist of six subdivisions, each of which in turn would have forty participants. Each subdivision was responsible for rereeling its own thread, and was required to appoint from among its 324

membership three producers to serve as inspectors and

instructors, and four others to oversee the purchase and

storage of cocoons. The organization's raw silk was to be

consigned to Hoshino, who would handle direct shipments to

New York, and receipts and profits were to be distributed to

each producer according to his output. Those members who did

not heed the organization's call for careful production

methods would be subject to expulsion, and would have their 19 thread confiscated.

The organization that resulted from these initial measures was barely a confederation at all, as indeed the

founders seem to have expected; the guidelines, which from the start were designated provisional, were so general, amounting as they did largely to a petition for the production of high-quality raw silk, that even the rather

severe penalty for failing to observe them was meaningless as

long as members of the cooperative had no specific regulations which they might observe or, as the case might be, transgress. Many affiliated producers therefore appear

to have joined the organization to take advantage of the higher prices Hoshino's export route stood to provide them, and not out of any genuine desire to improve the quality of their output. According to Fukazawa Yûzô, one of Seishi

Kaisha's founders, their raw silk was "no different from the

shabby thread they had been producing before, though to get a 20 higher price they bound it to resemble superior stuff." 325

Seishi Kaisha's loose-knit structure represented a threat to its ability to succeed on the export market; and

Fukazawa and others recognized that certain standards had to be maintained, particularly since they were dealing directly with Western purchasers and not with the Yokohama market, where most raw silk went through Japanese wholesalers and

Western merchants rarely knew--or cared~who had produced it. In early 1878, as a result, Fukazawa, Hoshino and their cohorts met with, among others, Hayami Kenzo and Katsuyama

Shûzaburô, then owner and director of Maebashi Filature, to discuss how to strengthen their organization and guarantee the production of zaguri thread of reasonably high quality.

The discussion led to a reorganization of the cooperative, a change in nomenclature to Seishi Gensha, a substantial increase in membership, and the issuance of a more detailed 21 set of regulations and guidelines.

In its new rules, Seishi Gensha incorporated everything that had been in the earlier guidelines, including the provision for the appointment of inspectors and raw material procurers; it also set salaries for these functionaries, and gave the inspectors carte blanche to assess and improve the quality of the raw silk produced under their jurisdiction as they saw fit. Although each subdivision was, as before, responsible for obtaining its own raw material, Seishi Gensha itself defined how much thread producers were expected to reel from a given number of 326 cocoons and prescribed penalties for those whose output did not meet minimum requirements. It also set down specific rules for rereeling; each subdivision was required to have one facility for this purpose and to determine for itself the price members had to pay for the process. It prescribed methods for determining the competency of women who reeled thread for producers belonging to the organization, set wages accordingly, and prohibited the hiring of women who failed to meet minimum quality standards for two months consecutively.

It forbade members from selling their thread outside the structure of the cooperative. And finally, it declared that, although Seishi Gensha was set up specifically to aid struggling disenfranchised bushi, producers not in this category could become members where local conditions made this advisable and as long as they worked in concert with their aristocratic counterparts. This last gesture of noblesse oblige was rather obligatory in view of the fact that Hoshino Chotaro, upon whose mercantile acumen rested the very success of the entire project, was himself a commoner, 22 as were those within the group of producers he led.

Thus formulated, Seishi Gensha's rules were as detailed and comprehensive as any Gunma's silk industry had yet seen. They covered virtually every aspect of silk production and, in the professed interest of uniformity and quality, locked the organization's members into a system from which they could deviate only at their own risk. The entire 327 plan was nothing if not ambitious. But the rules drawn up by the powers-that-be in the cooperative were notable as much for what they omitted as for what they included. Although they were much more precise than the rules drawn up in 1877, the precision was directed at the organizational aspects of the cooperative: hence the detail with regard to wages for workers and officials, to output requirements, to membership qualifications, and to transactions outside the structure.

Very little attention was actually paid to the problem of quality aside from a few standard and very general strictures concerning luster, denier, and the like; that Seishi Gensha's founders left it up to the organization's subdivisions to decide how to procédé in these areas suggests that the problem of quality, though it could not be ignored lest the market be jeopardized, was not uppermost in the minds of those making the decisions. Their horizons were, in any case, limited, as is apparent from the most glaring omission from the rules: although Seishi Gensha numbered among its affiliated operations two mechanized filatures reputedly of high quality, and although the founders of the operation included the owners of these places, no provision at all was made for the transmission within the cooperative of the techniques and technology which they employed. No mention is made anywhere in the cooperative's voluminous regulations that alternative methods of production even existed, much less that they might be considered. The presumption was 328 clearly that producers in the organization had no need, or at

least no incentive, to rely on anything but zaguri reeling; the cooperative's statement of purpose identifies the source of the silk industry's problems as the fact that "merchants and producers alike have become accustomed to dealing in inferior merchandise, and have made frivolous profit their 23 main concern."

For the mostly bushi leadership of Seishi Gensha, to view their economic plight in such moralistic terms was certainly well within character, and was doubtless reflective of a genuine sentiment on their part. At the same time, this approach was a convenient one, since it allowed the organization to overlook the issue of technology, and it allowed its membership to continue producing in much the same way as before, though perhaps, to the extent the rules were observed, with a bit more caution. All of this was in marked contrast to the activities of the cooperatives established almost concurrently in Nagano, which devoted at least some attention to the transmission and improvement of reeling techniques based on what was being done in the West; but it was to be the norm for Gunma--a truncated, if pragmatic, vision for what was supposed to be a new era for the silk industry.

Whatever its technological drawbacks, Seishi Gensha succeeded where it mattered most to producers: it obtained higher prices for its output than member producers could have 329 received had they acted alone and not availed themselves of the cooperative’s rereeling facilities and retailing arrangements.^^ Success in these areas, together with the eminent logic of cooperative activity especially as long as most reeling operations remained so tiny, led to the creation of other cooperatives in the prefecture. The earliest of these, in fact, was an unintended byproduct of Seishi

Gensha's reorganization in 1878; disgruntled by the fees which the cooperatives proposed charging in order to pay its directors, to handle producers' output and to set up its offices, one group associated with the organization at first 25 withdrew and formed its own cooperative, KOsuisha.

Others appeared thereafter in quick succession, all structured more or less like Seishi Gensha, all ultimately equipped with rereeling facilities whose function was to eliminate some of the more obvious flaws in the exclusively zaguri process employed by most producers in Gunma and thereby make their output more valuable. By the end of 1880, there were thirty-four cooperatives in Gunma, at least thirteen of which were, like Seishi Gensha, organized by and for members of the old warrior class.

These new cooperatives varied substantially in size and in gross output: the largest had over 2,000 members, the smallest, fewer than 10; output ranged from 55,000 to 297 27 pounds. Many of the cooperatives were fragile unions, apparently disbanding after a short time; even for those 330 which managed to stay in business, growth was uneven at first, and the introduction of cooperative rereeling— a prerequisite for financial success, since it was the addition of this process which made for higher quality and greater revenue— took place slowly relative to the growth of the industry as a whole in Gunma. Throughout the early 1380's zaguri thread that had been thus "improved" accounted for only one-fourth of the raw silk shipped from the prefecture to Yokohama. By the end of the decade, however, over half of all raw silk exported from Gunma was produced by thesef . ^ . 28 organizations.

Thereafter the cooperatives as an economic phenomenon more than held their own in Gunma, and the more enduring of them lasted well into the twentieth century. In this respect, as in others related to raw silk production at the time, the pattern was different from Nagano, where most cooperatives broke apart after a relatively brief period.

The resiliency of Gunma's cooperatives reflects the stability that characterized the silk-reeling industry in the prefecture, a stability which the cooperatives helped preserve. But it was a stability that depended for its very existence on a technological inertia: the cooperatives did indeed grow, some of them into giants, but growth here generally meant the addition of new members rather than an expansion of activity on the part of those already in the organizations. In almost no instance did growth involve the 331 application of technological improvement, despite the fact that output of silk thread from the cooperatives increased 29 very rapidly at times. In Nagano, cooperatives disbanded in part because affiliated producers "outgrew" them, developed operations too large and, in some cases, too sophisticated to be confined within the structure of the cooperative system; in Gunma, the cooperatives deliberatly foreclosed this option from the start by calling, in effect, for the maintenance of the technological status quo.

Gunma's most successful cooperative, Kakueisha, typified this approach for most of its existence. Unlike

Seishi Gensha, it owed neither its inception nor its ultimate prosperity to the participation of the bushi, and was instead composed largely of peasants who reeled silk on the side in the county after which the cooperative was named. Kakueisha began its activities on a very small scale in May 1878, shortly after the wealthy silk merchants and producers who founded it got wind of Seishi Gensha's success with cooperative rereeling. From the beginning, Kakueisha decided to eschew the possibility of exporting its goods directly to the West, and to deal instead through wholesalers in

Yokohama; but the results were just as salutary. The price member producers received for their raw silk in 1878 was so much higher than could be gotten had they acted alone, skipped the rereeling process and simply sold standard zaguri thread that the number of silk reelers affiliated with the 332 cooperative jumped from 100 that year to over 2,000 in 1879.

Originally composed of one group of producers who rereeled and packaged their silk at one location, within a year

Kakueisha had thirteen subdivisions, each with its own rereeling facilities. Throughout the rest of the nineteenth century, the cooperative expanded its membership on an almost annual basis; by 1900 it boasted seventy-five subdivisions, far more than any cooperative of its kind in the nation.

Kakueisha was spectacularly and consistently successful in its ability to draw producers— not only in Gunma, but from elsewhere as well— into its ranks; by the turn of the century, it was Japan's second-largest exporter of raw silk, easily dwarfing the productive capacity of organizations in the technologically more sophisticated regions, including

Nagano.

The sudden expansion in membership with which

Kakueisha was blessed barely a year after it began business made it mandatory that a framework be devised for the organization, and that regulations and membership qualifications be determined. Like Seishi Gensha, Kakueisha divided itself into smaller subdivisions, each of which was responsible for inspecting and rereeling all raw silk submitted by affiliated producers; the cooperative's central office handled packaging and shipping to Yokohama. Kakueisha itself set no qualifications for individual producers, preferring instead to confine its purview to the subdivisions 333 as units? each of these was initially required to have at least 100 members and a total output of 2600 pounds. The extremely small scale of most producers' operations rendered this output figure unrealistically high, and the quota was subsequently lowered twice, to 1700 pounds in 1885 and to 870 32 pounds in 1888. The latter was less drastic a change than it appears, since it was accompanied by a reduction in the minimum size of the subdivisions to fifty members; but the same production quota applied to all subdivisions, regardless of size.

It is clear that Kakueisha did not expect any major increases in productivity, such as might have been attained by converting to mechanized reeling, on the part of its members; it is equally clear that the aforementioned quotas did nothing to foster innovative activity. The cooperative set its sights deliberately low, and its membership performed in accordance with this policy; average production per subdivision rose substantially during Kakueisha's first eight years of operation, but thereafter reached an impasse in which gains posted one year were always offset by subsequent 33 declines of equal or greater magnitude. As of 1885,

Kakueisha included among its membership producers who reeled silk with Western-style machinery, and output from these operations accounted for almost one-fourth of the cooperative's entire raw silk production by 1890; from the following year, though, production from these places declined 334 in both relative and absolute terms until the end of the

Meiji era.^^ Such establishments were manifestly more productive than the cooperative's zaguri operations; yet they received little or no encouragement from Kakueisha, and their fortunes were correspondingly circumscribed.

Kakueisha's unwillingness to stress increased productivity was, at most, a passive restraint on the ability of its members to alter their technological ways. The cooperative certainly did not actively seek to prevent technological innovation; members could themselves have adopted new or different technology had they so desired without jeopardizing their affiliation with the cooperative.

In other ways, though, Kakueisha did effectively check technological development. From the beginning, the organization's directors required that producers raise a certain amount of silkworms themselves as a precondition for membership. The minimum amount— enough to reel about ten pounds of raw silk— was not in itself very high, and reflected production patterns in the area at the time the cooperative was established; even when this regulation was rescinded in 1887 producers continued to raise the same 35 amount of silkworms as before. But considering the very low productive capacity of most of Kakueisha's silk producers, it was a high percentage indeed of the raw material they needed. The measure was probably intended to prevent producers, and by extension the cooperative itself. 335

from going deeply into debt. Silkworm cocoons represented by far the greatest expenditure producers had to make each year, and usually had to be purchased before receipts from

the sale of their raw silk came in, at a time most producers were least able to afford them. The requirement therefore automatically limited the degree to which a producer might have to borrow funds, either from the cooperative or from other sources, to purchase cocoons. But at the same time it made it impossible for any member of the organization to concentrate exclusively on the thread-reeling process itself, a concentration that would have made the adoption of Western reeling methods much more feasible and practical. As it was, producers belonging to Kakueisha had to divide their time, resources and interest between two stages of the production process, an inefficient way to go about things that, not surprisingly, did nothing to promote innovation or change of any sort.

Like other cooperatives in Gunma, Kakueisha owed a great deal of its ability to attract and keep producers within its ranks to the financial assistance it offered. In addition to the cost-saving advantages of having one's thread

rereeled and shipped to Yokohama in bulk, and the commercial advantage of retailing large, relatively uniform quantities of silk, Kakueisha provided its members with advance payments on their output, initially on a semi-annual basis and, from

1884, quarterly. In the late 1880's, it began issuing loans 336 to producers even before their output had been delivered to the cooperative for shipment.All of the funds thus disbursed were available at interest rates well below what producers could have obtained elsewhere— if, given the size of their operations, they could have obtained them at all.

As Kakueisha expanded and its membership mushroomed, it stopped issuing money directly to producers and began to use the individual subdivisions as intermediaries; funds were allocated to each subdivision according to its annual output, and the subdivision as a unit was held responsible in the event producers were unable to pay back their loans. As it developed, the system was remarkable for its thoroughness and efficiency; by the turn of the century, most of the cooperative's subdivisions were receiving up to ninety per cent of their revenue in the form of advance payments.

Kakueisha had acquired such a reputation for financial stability that it was able to borrow funds itself from

Yokohama wholesalers or private banks without difficulty, and was in a position to attract funds from outside contributors, who saw the cooperative as a safe, stable institution in 37 which to invest.

The exceptional degree of security and stability which Kakueisha obtained, and maintained, for itself could have encouraged the cooperative, or at least its leaders and wealthier members, to look in new technological directions; and its unusually liberal loan program could have been used 337 selectively to this end. Instead, and in accordance with the same profound conservatism that characterized the rest of

Gunma's silk-reeling industry, Kakueisha distributed its largesse in such a way as to perpetuate the technological status quo. Although the cooperative was generous with its funds, the loans it made to its subdivisions were based on their average annual output over the previous three years; and the subdivisions in turn lent to producers roughly 38 according to their most recent annual output figures.

The cooperative thereby guaranteed that, barring an unforeseen and rapid rise in raw material costs, its members could produce the same amount of raw silk as before; but it made no allowances at all for producers who might have been disposed to increase their output by mechanizing— or, indeed, by any other method. Because loans were made in accordance with prior output, they could reflect increases brought about by mechanization only after the process had been completed, not before when the money was most needed.

Kakueisha probably had a sounder financial basis than any other cooperative in Gunma, and it was certainly within the organization's means to experiment with new production methods. But the cooperative consistently put a premium on stability, and this overruled any assumption of the kind of risk which changing to new technology might have entailed.

Thus the few mechanized operations that managed to exist within the cooperative received no help, or at least no more 338 than did those who persisted in reeling by hand, and, in defiance of the trend in other silk-producing prefectures, their numbers actually dwindled over time. When Kakueisha finally did mechanize, the process was accomplished with stunning rapidity; mechanized output went from less than a quarter of the organization's total in 1911 to sixty-two per 39 cent three years later. The very speed of the transformation suggests that the ability to mechanize had long been there, held in check by the cooperative's timorous approach to substantive change, especially that which involved new technology.

That Kakueisha's unwillingness to sponsor technological development was a trait shared by all of

Gunma's cooperatives is apparent from the fact that mechanization of the silk-reeling industry within the prefecture as a whole proceeded so sluggishly, and for years at a time did not proceed at all. This reluctance to innovate reflected, to be sure, popular sentiment within the cooperatives, many of which lasted much longer and enjoyed a much larger membership than those established in Nagano. But for all their success, Gunma's cooperatives displayed little technological leadership. And because, in the absence of any encouragement or pressure from the central government, they were the only organizations in the prefecture that could have taken the initiative in this regard, change did not come until very late. A few sporadic attempts at mechanization 339 did occur in Gunma, and at least one of them was sponsored by a cooperative. In 1888, KSsuisha opened a training center with machinery based on Tomioka Filature's French equipment, specifically to train women for producers in the organization. The operation was a substantial one, with equipment for sixty workers; but though it was remunerative enough to stay in business— no mean feat considering the location— there is no indication that it had any noticeable effect on how those in the cooperative went about their business; in a report presented to the prefectural government in 1899, the owners confined their remarks on the filature to the bland observation that "thereafter we had two 40 kinds of silk reeling." As a business venture, the operation did reasonably well, though not until after it was turned over to members of the cooperative for private management in 1907 did it undergo any expansion; as a device for propagating a new method of reeling, it failed. Still, the attempt had been made, whereas other cooperatives did not 41 even consider such a venture.

The Direct Export Movement

As was the case in Nagano, one of the intended functions of the cooperatives in Gunma was to provide their membership with a way to avoid the pitfalls of retailing their output separately. For most of Gunma's silk producers, their annual silk output was too small to warrant the time 340 and travail of selling their own wares in Yokohama; before the advent of the cooperatives, therefore, most of them were wholly dependent on a mercantile network within the prefecture which in the end redounded little to their benefit. Seishi Gensha, among other cooperatives, identified

"unscrupulous merchants" rather than low quality as the most serious problem producers faced^^; accordingly, one of the objectives of the cooperatives was to protect their membership from the wiles of those who had been selling their thread for them. In this respect, Gunma's cooperatives resembled those in Nagano, which also sought to eliminate producers' costly dependence on petty local merchants.

But in other ways, Gunma's situation, and the response its silk cooperatives made thereto, was very different from what happened elsewhere. Within the prefecture, traffic in raw silk was almost completely dominated by five long-entrenched merchant houses 43 headquartered in the old castle town of Maebashi. Even if cooperatives were able to bypass petty merchants operating in their immediate vicinity, the power of these merchant houses was so extensive that only huge organizations like

Kakueisha managed to escape their grasp; and even the

Maebashi merchants themselves dabbled in cooperatives, setting up their own organizations to rereel thread produced 44 by peasants with whom they did business. For most cooperatives, there was no question of avoiding the merchant 341 houses and dealing, as Nagano's cooperatives did, directly with wholesalers in Yokohama; the most they could hope to achieve, and did acieve, in the first years of their existence, was to eliminate their reliance on local merchants to sell their output. Most raw silk bound for Yokohama still had to go through the Maebashi merchants, if for no other reason than that only through these houses could producers 45 and most cooperatives obtain financing and freight drafts.

For the large number of former bushi who were involved in Gunma's silk-reeling industry, this forced dependence on merchants, a class of people whom they had long regarded (at least in theory) with contempt, was doubtless a galling turn of events. It accounts for the indignation with which Seishi Gensha, for one, reacted to their activities.

It also explains, in part, the decision by major silk producers in Gunma to embark on attempts to export their silk directly to the West. There was some precedent for this method of retailing. Fukushima's Nihonmatsu Filature, one of the nation's most sophisticated silk-reeling operations, had begun direct exports in 1876, and Tomioka started sending its 46 thread out via Mitsui Bussan two years later. These were large filatures, though, and the quality and quantity of their output all but assured them a secure foreign market.

In the interest of expanding such activity in general, the central government invested heavily in the semi-public

Yokohama Specie Bank, established in 1879 for the express 342

purpose of aiding export industries; it also lent funds, on

the advice of Hayami Kenzo, to the 33rd National Bank to

provide advances to producers who shipped goods directly to

the West.^^ Most important for Gunma's silk producers,

however, were the achievements of Hoshino Chôtarô and Seishi

Gensha: they demonstrated that even producers who continued

to rely on zaguri reeling could export their output directly

if they acted in concert, and that they could not only avoid

the expense of consigning their goods to wholesalers in

Yokohama, but get higher prices as well. With understandably high expectations, then, representatives of Gunma's major

cooperatives met in early 1880 and established an umbrella

organization to oversee the shipment of their raw silk 48 directly to Western nations.

This new organization, the Gunma Sericulture

Improvement Society (Gunma Sanshi Kairyokai) differed from

the cooperatives which constituted it insofar as it was not a

producing unit itself, but rather a structure to coordinate

policy, to exchange information and techniques, and to

promote the discussion of problems associated with production

and retailing. Membership was limited to the cooperatives

and their affiliates, a practical restriction since any

producer not associated with a cooperative reeled silk on so

insignificant a scale as to make his participation

meaningless. The ambiguous nature of the organization— aside

from the above, it was not clear what precisely its functions 343 were to be, what powers of enforcement, if any, it was to have, and the like— made it possible to include virtually every cooperative of consequence. And because the organization's rules made no mention at all of direct exports, among its founders were the Maebashi merchants, a group whose close ties with the Yokohama wholesalers hardly 49 predisposed them to view such retailing benignly.

Yet those most active in the establishment of the new organization were men like Hoshino Chôtarô and Fukazawa Yûzô who had already committed themselves and their cooperatives to the principle of direct exporting. For them, the new prefecture-wide structure represented a further legitimization of their efforts in this area, and they continued to work, now even more feverishly, to this end.

Financing was their key to success; without some sort of financial support, specifically in the form of freight drafts for their wares, they could not possibly prosper. Their only source of money, other than the Yokohama wholesalers, had been the 33rd National Bank; but the funds from this institution were too meager to sustain direct exports on the scale they envisioned. With the encouragement of Fukuzawa

Yükichi, they therefore approached the Yokohama Specie Bank for support in mid-1880, and received a loan of 100,000 yen.^^ The loan, though generous enough, did not nearly meet the needs of the organization, and Hoshino thereupon asked Finance Minister Okuma for an additional one million 344 yen; Ôkuraa responded with words of encouragement but was noncommital about the money, pointing out that a loan of this

size was unprecedented and would, at the very least, take time. Further intensive lobbying on Hoshino's part failed to elicit any financial commitment, despite the fact that he extended his powers of persuasion to virtually everyone at the top level of power.

Upon the advice of the 33rd National Bank, the leaders of the Gunma Sericulture Improvement Society had meanwhile begun to take steps to reorganize the system they had created. As a result, Hoshino told the government that the organization would shortly issue stock for which members would be required to submit land titles as payment; the hope here was that a sound financial basis would make the government more amenable to a loan of the size Hoshino had requested. The proposed reorganization was approved at a general meeting of the society in October 1880, the organization was renamed the Gunma Sericulture Improvement

Company (Gunma Sanshi Kairyo Kaisha), and the loan request was now officially submitted by the organization itself, which offered its members' land titles as collateral. The

following month, Maeda Masana, a high official in the Finance

Ministry and one of the government's most ardent supporters of direct exports, visited Maebashi and informed the company's leaders that the government would probably extend 52 them a loan of 700,000 yen. Maeda had, in fact, been in 345 regular communication with representatives or the 33rd

National Bank, and through the latter had made clear his opinion that a reorganization along the lines subsequently adopted and a stress on direct exports would be persuasive support for the loan request. His visit amounted to a semi-official stamp of approval on the changes that had been made, as well as a suggestion that financial backing would be the reward for the endeavor.

The reorganization that had been carried out involved considerably more than the issuance of stock to member cooperatives : the new rules, which went into effect in

December 1880, created a much tighter structure and spelled out the organization's aims in much more specific terms than had earlier been the case. Among other things, members— i.e., those who had purchased stock or who belonged to a cooperative that had done so— were required to sell all their silk products through the organization; others could also avail themselves of the joint retailing facilities, but would have no voice in overall policy and would not be eligible for loans. Inspectors were to be dispatched by the main office of the organization to enforce production standards and to offer advice on the improvement of output quality. Branch offices were to be located throughout Gunma to facilitate the handling and inspection of output and the exchange of technical and market information. And finally, the rules stated in no uncertain terms that "the main purpose 346

of the organization is to sell all of its raw silk directly

to foreign markets.

It seems apparent that the people behind these new

rules— Hoshino, Fukazawa and others— were attempting to

create a prefecture-wide version of Seishi Gensha. The new

regulations dropped altogether the purely deliberative

character of the original organization in favor of one in which the benefits and obligations of membership were defined

in detail. The change was a popular one in most circles:

signatories to the company's charter included representatives

from fity-two operations, most of which were cooperative 55 units on the order, but not the scale, of Kakueisha.

Conspicuously absent from the list, however, were the merchant houses of Maebashi, all but one of which refused to take part in the restructured organization. Their withdrawal was predictable: the unequivocable stress which was now placed on direct exports was an assault on their heretofore privileged dominance of the prefecture's silk trade, and to have cooperated in the new venture would have been to acquiesce in the elimination of their own power. Indeed, much less explicable than the merchants' withdrawal at this point was their willingness to join the organization in the

first place. The most likely explanation is that they did not wish to exclude themselves from an organization that was mainfestly popular throughout the prefecture, lest they

thereby incur the disfavor of silk producers with whom they 347 were accustomed to dealing. Operating in league with the original organization was a politic gesture, and at first there was nothing to be lost by so doing. Once it became clear that this would require exporting directly to the West, however, affiliation was intolerable for the merchants since it would have committed them to severing their lucrative ties with the Yokohama wholesalers for a retailing procedure that was still very new and risky. The Maebashi merchants chose not to jeopardize their security for what they must have viewed as a group of upstart, ingenuous ex-warriors and their followers. If it meant that some silk producers who had in the past sold them their wares now went elsewhere, so be it; there was reason enough to believe that the experiment with direct exports would ultimately fail anyway.

The leaders of the Gunma Sericulture Improvement

Company do not seem to have been particularly distraught over this development; their alliance with the merchants had no doubt been an uneasy one, and in any case the company was mainly concerned with creating a structure that appealed not to the merchants, but to a central government from which considerable munificence was expected. But, as a consequence of the departure of the Maebashi merchants, such munificence became vital as long as the company was determined to export its silk directly. The vast majority of producers in the operation had negligible amounts of liquid capital with which to operate most of the time, and unless money was forthcoming 348

from some source, direct sales to the West would place an

intolerable burden on them. Prices were indeed higher on the

Western markets than in Yokohama, but the latter offered the

advantage of prompt cash payments, as well as the financial

services wholesalers there were beginning to provide.

Shipping one's silk directly to Europe, for example, meant a delay of at least three months until payment was received;

when, as was increasingly the case, the market was the east coast of the United States, the delay was at least six months.And since the company proposed to bypass the

Yokohama wholesalers altogether, it foreclosed the option of receiving negotiable freight drafts from that source. The direct export venture obviously could not sustain itself without the generous financial backing of the central government; and simply to get off the ground, the Gunma

Sericulture Improvement Company needed substantial funds quickly.

In the end, such support from the central government

was neither as quick nor as generous as the company had hoped and as Maeda Masana had predicted. When nothing came of the

loan request made in November 1880, another was submitted the

following month, at which time the company stressed the

immediate need for funds to expand its members' mulberry

cultivation. The government responded by authorizing, via

the Yokohama Specie Bank, a loan of seventy thousand yen— by

no means a paltry sum, especially considering the meager 349 amounts parceled out to prefectures like Nagano, but still 57 far less than had been anticipated. Repeated entreaties from Hoshino and others in positions of leadership in the company obtained a total of 400,000 yen in loans throughout

1881, all of which went through the Yokohama Specie Bank; but the terms attached to the loans became progressively more restrictive, and most of the money had to be repaid within a relatively short period of time (less than a year).^^

Although at any given time, therefore, the organization had access to large sums of money, none of the funds could be used to support its long-term development. What the company needed, and had asked for, was a far larger loan with far fewer restrictions, and this was not granted. Unable to provide its huge membership with the kind of financial support it had been led to expect in the beginning, the company was soon faced with an alarming rate of attrition: when Minister of Agriculture and Commerce Saigô Tsugumichi visited the organization's headquarters in November 1882, he was told that the number of affiliated producers had dropped 59 by half.

A short-lived turnabout of sorts in the company's fortunes occurred in early 1883, when Minister of Finance

Matsukata approved an interest-free loan of 300,000 yen, to be distributed among member producers in the form of negotiable freight drafts.Three years later, the government lent an equivalent sum, repayment of which was to 350 be made in annual, twenty-thousand yen increments over a fifteen-year period; at the same time, it renegotiated the earlier loan in accordance with current silver prices, effectively reducing the amount the company owed by forty per cent. When the second loan was granted, however, the government indicated its concern over the company's apparently unlimited appetite for outside funding by requiring that henceforth it operate under prefectural auspices. Thus empowered, the prefectural government promptly "advised" the company to abandon its policy of stressing direct exports, and to sell its raw silk through the Yokohama wholesalers whenever that route seemed more profitable.

Though never explicitly stated, the prefecture's concerns were obviously based more on economics than on sympathy for the notion of direct exports; given the company's rather lackluster financial record, there was reason enough for this to be so. But the effect was to rob the organization of its raison d'etre, and to confine its activities to lending the funds at its disposal to producers whose wares it would forward to the Yokohama wholesalers; the same function was being performed, and had long been performed, by the merchant houses of Maebashi, who were able to offer greater resources and expertise, and whose close ties to the wholesalers made it much easier for them to obtain funds for those whose raw silk they handled. The 351 company's founders protested the changes forced upon them, and quite accurately observed that "our goals and our structure have been so completely altered that we are now no different from any other company.But their complaint was to no avail; both the prefectural government and the

33rd National Bank steadily stripped away the organization's autonomy and its uniqueness. Thus debilitated, it limped along until the early 1890's, when it finally collapsed.

Even had the Gunma Sericulture Improvement Company been able to maintain its independence from outside interests, it is unlikely that its fate would have been any more felicitous in the long run. The organization continuously functioned in a precarious financial state, one which never improved for more than brief periods. And it suffered, from the start, a fatal flaw: it was dominated by disenfranchised bushi, who appear to have had few notions about how to run the operation on a practical, day-to-day basis, and who considered it beneath them— if indeed they considered it at all— to seek the help of others in managing and guiding what they had created. Despite the chronic complaints about money, the company was the recipient of far more public largesse than any other organization in the silk industry except Tomioka Filature, yet it still could not make a go of it. A major reason for this failure was the way in which officials of the company used the funds they had received: especially in the beginning, most of the money was 352

lent out to affiliated cooperatives on a long-term basis,

apparently on the assumption that a loan of similar leniency

would soon be forthcoming from the central government; when

Tokyo did not act as anticipated, the company ran into acute

cash-flow problems which only accelerated the exodus of

producers from its ranks and, time after time, led to the 64 request for yet another infusion of money.

Financial mismanagement was not the only problem that

afflicted the organization: in other areas as well it failed

to achieve any results of substance. As long as it enjoyed

the voluntary affiliation of virtually every silk-reeling

cooperative in Gunma, the Gunma Sericulture Improvement

Company had within its grasp the potential for effecting a

substantial amount of qualitative change within the

industry— certainly more than the government could have brought about, or did bring about, with its several attempts

to regulate and develop silk reeling. But aside from the

requirement that all thread be rereeled prior to shipment— a

process most cooperatives had begun before they joined the

operation— there was no attempt to introduce or to encourage

new methods of production. Two operations which reeled

thread by machine terminated their affiliation in the early

1380's, leaving only four such filatures left in the company;

there were no conversions elsewhere to mechanized reeling,

nor was there any incentive to do so. Worse still, though

the number of women reeling thread for operations within the 353 organization more than doubled between 1881 and 1885, total ouput actually fell by almost twenty per cent during the same period.Even allowing for the fact that producers who clung to the traditional, and inefficient, zaguri method could not possibly register the kind of productivity gains achieved by those who had turned to mechanized reeling, this decline in output was extraordinary, particularly because the prefecture as a whole produced twenty-five per cent more raw silk in 1886 than it had five years earlier.This contrast suggests, among other things, that those producers and cooperatives which broke ranks with the organization were often more productive than those who remained; or, alternatively, that they became more productive only after their withdrawal. Although the company's poor performance cannot be attributed to the policies of its leaders, at the very least they did little to reverse the trend, which in turn certainly contributed to the organization's enervation and to its inability to withstand the assaults on its autonomy.

In the end, the significance of the Gunma Sericulture

Improvement Company was not in what it did, but in what it did not do. Its attempt to export raw silk directly to the

West without relying on the services, and the exactions, of merchants in Maebashi and Yokohama was a failure. The direct export movement received virtually no support from other silk-producing areas, including those which were mechanizing 354 rapidly; as a result, raw silk shipped this way never amounted to a significant percentage of total silk exports during the nineteenth century.More importantly, the company did not make any attempt to redirect its activities or to assert its leadership in any other aspect of silk production except retailing, even when the hazards, if not the failure, of direct exports had become all too obvious.

When it began operations, the company had within its ranks all of Gunma's private mechanized filatures, and the owners of these establishments were among its leaders. The opportunity and the structure therefore existed for an orderly exchange of technological information, and for the transmission of this information to the vast number of silk producers in Gunma who were still reeling by hand. Nothing of the sort was done, or even attempted, because the only people who might have been effective in this regard instead occupied their time with the ultimately futile attempt to bypass the conventional export route.

The notion of exporting directly to the West had a fine patriotic ring about it, one which was particularly attractive in an era when Japan was still operating under the ignominy of the unequal treaties. What it did not have was economic feasibility; few silk producers in Japan could afford the luxury of waiting months until they received payment for their output; selling in Yokohama had its drawbacks, but payment was relatively quick, and the 355 wholesalers there had begun to offer a variety of financial

services which easily surpassed anything the niggardly central government provided. Silk producers in other prefectures therefore ignored the movement, and even the government lost its enthusiasm once it recognized that

success in the venture required the infusion of more money than it was willing to spend. Aside from salvaging a bit of national pride, there was little to be gained by the effort.

For Gunma's silk-reeling industry, the cost was heavy. Those in the prefecture who wielded positions of power and leadership in the industry paid little heed to the problem of production methods. Their approach contributed to the postponement of any attempt to introduce mechanized reeling on a significant scale. And the direct export movement itself allowed producers the luxury of the illusion that the problems confronting the silk-reeling industry were less a matter of production techniques than of retailing practices.

Conclusion

Strictly speaking, one cannot speak of the failure of mechanized silk reeling in Gunma prefecture during the late nineteenth century: except for a few isolated incidents, the attempt was not even made; and the few successful filatures based on Western technology had almost no influence in the prefecture at all. It is necessary therefore to consider why silk producers in Gunma rejected the possibility of 356

mechanization, rather than why they did not succeed in the

endeavor. Those few producers with enough mettle to try

their hand at mechanization did manage to keep their

filatures open; but they underwent minimal expansion, if any,

and no one in Gunma took the trouble to try to imitate them.

One reason there were no imitators was that, with the

exception of the luckless Tokue, those who adopted mechanized

reeling did not go to any lengths to encourage the spread of

the technology they employed. Instead, they and the rest of

Gunma's leading silk producers concerned themselves almost

exclusively with problems of organization and marketing.

The cooperative structures that resulted were

structurally innovative but technologically retrograde.

Ifhereas in Nagano silk-reeling cooperatives were comprised mostly of filatures which had mechanized to one degree or

another, and were designed to facilitate the transmission of

technological knowledge, in Gunma the very purpose of the

cooperatives was to preserve the old technological order and

to forestall the necessity of converting to mechanized

reeling. Hence, for example, Kakueisha's stipulation that

its members supply at least a percentage of their raw

material: the measure made economic sense, especially in the beginning, since it eliminated the need to expend large sums

of money on silkworm cocoons and thereby reduced the

operation's capital requirements. But at the same time it helped to perpetuate the technological status quo, and made 357

Kakueisha markedly less productive than it could have become had it adopted a more risk-laden policy of encouraging

specialization in silk reeling, and technological change within that field. As a result, in 1881 the cooperative's members each produced an average of only twenty pounds of raw

silk, while in Nagano's much smaller but mechanized

Kaimeisha, the average was almost forty times as much.°®

There was no substantial increase in productivity for

Kakueisha during the rest of the century, and for other cooperatives in Gunma the situation was at least as bad.

Most producers in Tengensha, one of the prefecture's largest cooperatives, had no more than two reeling units each as late as 1902, for example. All of them continued to rely on the old zaguri method, and their operations were virtually 69 identical to those that had existed half a century before.

If those who held positions of influence in Gunma's silk-reeling industry made no great effort to encourage the prefecture's silk reelers out of their technological lethargy, it must be added that public officials displayed very much the same attitude, and did little themselves to turn the situation around. The official most directly concerned with the silk-reeling industry was Hayami Kenzo, and as a Gunma-born former bushi his influence was considerable; yet he never used it to press for substantial change, and in fact favored continued use of the zaguri reeling technique. In September 1871, Hayami issued the 358 results of a comparison between traditional and imported reeling methods based on tests he had made at Maebashi

Filature, and pronounced the Western variety superior on all counts; but there was a twist to his conclusions, since he made it clear that he considered Western methods preferable only if they were followed with a high degree of exactitude.Traditional methods, the implication was, were just as good as, if not better than, haphazard or makeshift adaptations of the techniques imported from

Europe. This tendency to view with skepticism any wholesale or rapid attempt to mechanize the silk-reeling industry was apparent in the opinion papers Hayami presented to the government in 1873 and 1874, in which he rejected the notion that such efforts were possible or even desirable, and opted 71 instead for a very gradual approach. This same logic underwrote Hayami's enthusiastic support for ventures such as

Seishi Gensha whose aim was, in effect, to make it possible for silk producers to avoid mechanizing.

Hayami was by no means the only public official so inclined; indeed, his approach reflected the policies and preferences of the central government as a whole. In a financial sense, no prefecture's silk-reeling industry was treated as handsomely by the central government as Gunma's was; the Gunma Sericulture Improvement Company received more money than any other private silk organization in the country, and many others in the prefecture enjoyed the 359 benefit of public loans— loans which, like most given to the silk industry, went mainly to former bushi, and for which 72 restitution was, in the end, rarely made. Aside from a small loan made to Hoshino Chôtarô, none of the money was directed toward people interested in reeling silk by machine. This was not by design; Gunma had precious few such candidates to begin with. But here, as was the case elsewhere, the government did not see fit to use its financial leverage to press for technological change, preferring instead to put its money into ventures that, precisely because they involved little technological or economic jeopardy, were more likely to keep restless ex-warriors occupied for a long time. The government's approach did nothing to bring about the mechanization of

Gunma's silk-reeling industry, but it made shrewd political sense.

It also made a measure of economic sense. Hayami had correctly pointed out that the conversion to Western-style production methods could not be achieved very quickly, and that an attempt to do so would probably cause more harm than good. This was expecially true for Gunma, where traditional methods were so deeply entrenched and so much a part of the routine of the peasant population that an attempt to dislodge them quickly could well have caused much social and economic strain. More to the point, it might have led to a decline, however temporary, in actual output of raw silk during the 360

transition period; and for a government so dependent on the

export of that commodity, the risk was intolerable. This was

especially true during the first two decades of the Meiji

period, when the mechanization of the silk-reeling industry

in other prefectures was proceeding at an uneven rate, and

when the quality of the raw silk produced by those who had

adopted Western methods was by no means always superior to

what was being produced by hand. Accordingly, the government

looked with favor on the activities of those in Gunma who

tried to improve the quality of raw silk reeled by the zaguri method without altering the technology itself, and who used 73 cooperative organizations to that end. Likewise, at the

national exhibitions whose ostensible purposes included

fostering the communication of new technology, the government 74 usually accorded Gunma's raw silk particular praise. It

could have used the occasion to excoriate the prefecture's

producers for their adamant refusal to change their reeling

methods; but for the government the real issue was not how

raw silk was reeled, but how much of it could be produced and

sold on the export market. As long as Gunma fared well on

these counts it remained largly above reproach.

In the end, however, it seems unlikely that public

policy could have brought about much significant

technological change in Gunma's silk-reeling industry, even

had the government been inclined to use it to that end. We

have seen elsewhere that peasants had been routinely 361

disregarding many of the regulations the government set down

with regard to the industry for decades prior to 1868, and

that they continued to do so after the Meiji government took power. Gunma was no exception here. As Hoshino, Tokue and others discovered, there was formidable resistance to the

idea of adopting Western reeling techniques, so formidable

that the attempts to disseminate such techniques were almost

immediately abandoned. Gunma, after all, had a centuries-old

tradition of silk reeling; so deeply entrenched were patterns of production which had been developed over the years that mechanization on any significant scale could have upset the

social and economic order of the prefecture to a far greater degree than in, for example, southern Nagano. In the latter

region, mechanized silk reeling was seen as a solution to the problems created by the elimination of another industry as a major source of income; in Gunma, it was seen as a threat to

the continued existence of the industry in a form which had

proved consistently successful for a very long period of time.

Certain aspects of this tradition reinforced the prefecture's resistence to what was new. Until 1870, Gunma's

silk-reeling industry had not only been long-established, it had been preeminent. It had been the source of most of the

technical developments that were made during the Tokugawa

era, and it had therefore been to Gunma that silk producers

elsewhere in Japan had looked when they wished to improve

their methods. Since the seventeenth century, Gunma had been 362 an exporter, not an importer, of silk-reeling techniques.

The introduction of Italian and French machinery in the early

Meiji years meant that the situation was suddenly reversed; and if Gunma's silk producers reacted to this turnabout by refusing to accept the necessity of change, their reaction was understandable. It was also, from their point of view, practical. Unlike Nagano, much of Gunma was arable land, and

its peasant population therefore relied much more heavily on agricultural pursuits for their livlihpod. Silk reeling developed as a subsidiary occupation during the Tokugawa years, at least in part to satisfy the demands of the Kiryu weavers; the industry remained subsidiary after 1868, despite the change in markets and the vast increase in demand. The economic pressure that made relatively large-scale, mechanized silk-reeling operations attractive in Nagano, where for many tilling the soil provided a far from adequate

income, did not obtain to nearly the same degree in Gunma.

A.S a consequence, there was not much immediate incentive to change, to take the risks which mechanization entailed; silk

reeling was done extensively in Gunma but in very few cases was it done intensively, at least until the twentieth century.

Gunma's silk producers therefore remained stubbornly defiant of trends elsewhere in the nation throughout the

nineteenth century, despite the fact that defiance meant the

end of the prefecture's domination of the industry. This

refusal to alter time-honored patterns of production was the 363 most important factor behind the failure of mechanization in the prefecture. The depth of this popular resistance to change was clearly reflected in a prefectural report of.1890, in which residents of Kataoka county expressed their attitude toward silk reeling as follows;

Reeling by machine produces thread of high quality and reduces the need for human labor; in these respects it is unsurpassed. But it requires a lot of capital, and it also requires workers skilled in handling machines, and we lack such people; therefore we continue to rely on the zaguri method. Producers here assert that Gunma's traditional technology (is sufficient because) many women here have a natural talent for it, and as a result the prefecture's raw silk is famous both at home and abroad. Producers therefore need only give their workers sufficient guidance and encouragement for them to turn out thread as good as any produced by machine. As a result, eighty to ninety per cent of Gunma's silk producers reel thread by hand and at home. Women grow up learning the job, and when they become old they assist the workers. So women pick up the skills they need naturally, and they become more skilled as time goes by, and zaguri thread becomes of truly marvelous quality. This is unique to Gunma; no place else can compare with (what is done here). It is far better to reel thread diligently according to the zaguri method than to bother ourselves with untried and untested machinery.75

The sentiments of Kataoka's silk producers seem an outlandish combination of regional chauvinism, social conservatism, and a blind refusal to accept even the possibility of using machinery that was hardly "untried and untested" in 1890.

But there is a kind of fierce rationality through it all.

And they doubtless reflected sentiment throughout the prefecture’s silk-reeling industry as a whole. The result was a formidable, and successful, obstacle to mechanization. 364

Notes to Chapter V.

Isee Chapter I.

^Gunma, GSEC, pp. 30-31, and Gunma, GSS, 2:640.

3See Yokohama Shi, Yokohama shishi, 3, pt. 1:494, table 47 for specific figures.

^Gunma, GSS, 2:905.

^Based on figures in Ishii, Nihon sanshigyo shi bunseki, p. 327, table 70.

^Based on information in Azuma, Shizoku ensan shi, Gunma, GSEC and Gunma, GSS.

7por examples, see Tomioka, TSS, 1:819-31.

®See Tomioka, TSS, document no. 383, 1:841. The observations of Hayami Kenzo with regard to this filature are reprinted in Otsuka, Sanshi, 1:415.

^Gunma, GSEC, p. 41, and Gunma. GSS, 2:670.

lOpor details, see Gunma, GSEC, pp.T 87-88. Tokue apparently managed to keep his own operation in business, since it appears in later documents.

According to Ibid., p. 92. Hoshino adopted Tomioka's tomoyori reeling technique, though there is no record of his having visited the filature prior to setting up his own establishment. In Yokohama Shi, Yokohama shishi, 3, pt. 1:508, it is stated that Hoshino did indeed visit Tomioka; but no evidence is cited to support the claim.

l^See Gunma. GSEC, pp. 105-6 for details.

13Quoted in Otsuka, Sanshi, 1:398.

_ i^Based on information in Gunma, GSEC, pp. 88 and 92, and Otsuka, Sanshi. 1:381.

ISsee Yokohama Shi. Yokohama shishi, 3, pt. 1:508, table 54 for a list of mechanized filatures founded in Gunma between 1872 and 1879. It is possible that some of the filatures were modeled after those discussed in this chapter, but there is no data to indicate this.

IGlbid., p. 510. 365

l^Based on information in Gunma, GSEC, pp. 106-7, Gunma, GSS, 2:683-85, and Otsuka, Sanshi, 1:373-74.

l^Gunma, GSS, 2:683-85 and Otsuka, Sanshi, 1:413.

19por the complete text of Kengyosha's guidelines, see Gunma, GSEC, pp. 116-18.

2ÛQuoted in Gunma, GSS, 2:674

Z^Gunma, GSEC, pp. 127-28, Otsuka, Sanshi, 1:411, and Sano, Dai Nihon sanshi: seishi, p. 584. The authors of the last two works state that Hayami Kenzo took part in the discussions at the behest of the Ministry of Home Affairs; but neither indicates just what_role the government wanted Hayami to play, other than, in Otsuka's words, "to help improve Gunma's silk-reeling industry."

22seishi Gensha's rules are reprinted in Gunma, GSEC, pp. 128-40.

Z^Gunma, GSEC, p. 128.

24Gunma, GSS, 2:674.

Z^Gunma, GSEC, p. 141.

Z^Based on statistics in Gunma, GSEC, pp. 258-60 and Gunma, GSS, 2:799.

Z^Based on statistics in Gunma, GSS, 2:799.

28por overall production figures, see Yokohama Shi, Yokohama shishi, 3, part 1:515; for export statistics, see Ibid., pp. 494 (for 1889) and 515 (for 1879-1882).

29setween 1878 and 1881, for example, output from the cooperatives increased ten-fold. See Gunma, GSEC, pp. 262-63.

30por background information, membership and annual production figures for Kakueisha through 1901, see Ibid., pp. 146-64, and Inoue and Yamada, "Gunma no seishi, " pp. 281-83. See also Yamaguchi, Nihon sangyg kin'yu shi kenkyu: seishi kin'yu hen, p. 643-45 for a consideration of the nature of Kakueisha's growth.

31japan's major silk-producing units, their reeling methods and output for 1901 are listed in Yokohama Shi, ed., Yokohama shishi, 4, part 1 (Yokohama: Yurindo, 1965):85, table 41. 366

32sased on information in Yamaguchi, Nihon sangyo kin'yu shi kenkyu; seishi kin'yu hen, pp. 634-35. The authors of this work estimate that the average annual output of Gunma's silk producers was a mere twenty pounds.

SSpor output figures, see Gunma, GSEC, pp. 146-64.

34yamaguchi, Nihon sangyo kin'yu shi kenkyu: seishi kin'ytr hen, p. 642.

35ibid., p. 683.

36ln both cases, the amount of the loan was based on the current market value of the applicant's output, and was deducted from receipts.

S^Yamaguchi, Nihon sangyo kin'yu shi kenkyu; seishi kin'yu hen, pp. 654-56.

38ibid., pp. 656, 683.

39lbid., p. 642.

40quoted in Gunma, GSEC, p. 143.

41por information on this operation, see Ibid., pp. 141-46 and Gunma, GSS, 2:816.

42 See, for example, Gunma, GSEC, p. 117.

43The five merchant houses were those of Shimomura, Ehara, Takeuchi, Katsuyama and Ichimura. For information on these families, see Yokohama Shi, Yokohama shishi, 3, pt. 1:409-511.

Ibid. for a discussion of silk retailing in Gunma; see also Inoue and Yamada, "Gunma no seishi," especially p. 275.

^Spor an important discussion of financing in Gunma's silk-reeling industry, see Pujii Mitsuo and Pujii Kazue, "Joshu seishigyo chiiki ni okeru kokuritsu ginko no seiritsu to henbo," Shakai keizai shigaku vol. 30 no. 1:23-43 and vol. 30 no. 5:92-115. The Maebashi area was especially vulnerable in this regard since it was much less self-sufficient in cocoons than other regions in Gunma.

46gased on information in Otsuka, Sanshi, 1:418-19, Sano, Dai Nihon sanshi: seishi, p. 585, and Takahashi Keizai Kenkyujo, Nihon sanshiqyo hattatsu shi, 1:311.. 367

47ôtsuka, Sanshi, 1:419.

48por the rules of the organization, see Gunma, GSEC, pp. 173-76.

49gee Ibid.; in fact, the rules advised that members act prudently toward foreign merchants, and not challenge existing trade practices. The organization's signatories are listed in Gunma, GSS, 2:855.

SOGunma, GSEC, pp. 198-99. Funds were to be handled via a newly-established Maebashi branch of the 33rd National Bank.

Sllbid., pp. 199-200. 52ibid.

53The visit was semi-official insofar as Maeda was apparently visiting the organization in a private capacity— i.e., he was not speaking under instruction from the central government.

54ounma, GSS, 2:356-57.

S^The groups which composed the organization varied enormously in size, to judge from the amount of stock they purchased. See Gunma, GSEC, pp. 202-8. Size, it should be noted, was less important in Gunma than elsewhere, since the scale of individual operations was virtually the same throughout the prefecture.

SGTakahashi Kaizai Kenkyujo, Nihon sanshigyS hattatsu S h i , p. 426.

57otsuka, Sanshi, 1:461.

58por details, see Ibid., pp. 462-67.

59ibid., pp. 487-88.

GOlbid., p. 467.

Glyokohama Shi, Yokohama shishi, 3, pt. 1:714.

G^Quoted in Ibid., p. 713.

G3see Ibid., pp. 712-16 for details.

G4ibid., pp. 702-3. 368

GSsased on statistics in Ibid., p. 708, table 110.

G^Based on a comparison of statistics in Gunma, GSEC, pp. 254-55 (for 1881) and 352-53 (for 1886).

67por figures on direct exports for selected years between 1880 and 1911, see Takahashi Keizai Kenkyujo, Nihon sanshigyS hattatsu shi, 1:426-27.

68ôishi KaichirS, ed., Nihon sangyS kakumei no kenkyu, 2nd. ed. (Tokyo: Daigaku Shuppankai, 1977), p. 177.

69lshii, Nihon sanshigyS shi bunseki, p. 333.

78The results of Hayami's comparison are reprinted in Gunma, GSEC, pp. 58-60.

7lHayami's opinion papers are reprinted in Sano, Dai Nihon sanshi; seishi, pp. 422-28 and 435-45.

72por examples, see Ütsuka, Sanshi, 1:480 and 2:13,68, and Inoue and Yamada, "Gunma no seishi," pp. 278-79.

73At the 1879 kySshinkai, for example, special commendations were given to Hoshino ChStarS and Katsuyama ShuzaburS for their efforts to improve zaguri reeling. See NSshSmushS KannSkyoku and ShSmukyoku, Kyoshinkai hokoku: kenshi no bu, pp. 14-15.

74gee, for example, the government's evaluation of Gunma's raw silk in NSshSmushS NSmukyoku and KSmukyoku, KySshinkai bansa hSkoku, pp. 8-10.

75Quoted in Gunma, GSS, 2:325. CHAPTER VI

CONCLUSION:

THE LIMITS TO CHANGE

Upon coining to power, the Meiji government, cast aside

some of the ethnocentric trappings of the Tokugawa Bakufu and

called for the adoption of such Western knowledge and technology as were necessary for the nation to acquire wealth and strength. It specifically enjoined silk producers to acquire Western technology in order to improve the quality of their output, and established its own model filature at

Tomioka to accelerate this process. The new government's attitude was a marked departure from that of the preceding

regime, which to the end could not decide whether trade with

the West ought to be encouraged or, wherever possible, obstructed. The new policy put an end to the multitudinous

institutional restrictions on the development of the

silk-reeling industry that had hampered its growth for so

long, and partly as a result of this the industry grew

enormously during the first three decades of the Meiji

period. By the end of the nineteenth century, exports of raw

silk were almost six times what they had been in 1868.^ A

production increase of this magnitude obviously reflects the

fact that, in one way or another, considerable change had

369 370 taken place in the nation's silk-reeling industry.

But growth and change did not necessarily mean a similar degree of technological development or the achievement of the qualitative improvement the government had called for. In fact, there was no sweeping and nation-wide transformation of Japan's silk-reeling industry during this period. Producers in many areas continued to rely heavily on the traditional zaguri reeling process— so heavily that production of raw silk by this method continued to climb throughout the rest of the nineteenth century, after which it 2 finally began to decline. Not until 1894, a quarter of a century after the introduction of Western reeling technology, did mechanized production of raw silk surpass production by the zaguri method.^ And even this belated achievement did not, apparently, signify substantial improvement in quality, or even a major conversion to genuinely Western-style reeling techniques. In 1892, the Japanese consul general in New York sent the government a report, subsequently distributed throughout the nation, criticizing Japan's raw silk for extreme disparities in denier, deceptive packaging and sloppy production techniques, and warned that demand on the American market would drop sharply unless such abuses were corrected.

The report had been prompted by a letter the consul general had received from the president of the American Silk Weavers

Association citing the aforementioned problems as a serious threat to Japan's share of the American silk market.^ The 371

Ministry of Agriculture and Commerce agreed with these dour assessments, and in 1896 paid due notice to the fact that, output increases notwithstanding, much of the nation's raw silk was still of poor, or at best uneven, quality.^

There is a kind of dreary repetitiveness to what was being said here. The complaints about thread quality and deceptive packaging are virtually identical to those made by destern merchants, and confirmed by Japanese officials, in the beginning of the Meiji era. Such complaints probably lost a good deal of their bite by the 1890's; there vjas no obvious danger of losing the American market, which continued to consume huge quantities of Japan's raw silk every year.

The decade saw no flurry of public and private activity such as had accompanied Western criticism in the 1860's and

1870's. But there is no reason to doubt the veracity of the complaints; indeed, one reason for the success of exports to the United States was the fact that the American market had been consistently less demanding than those in Europe, and had been willing to settle for the coarse, uneven thread that constituted the bulk of Japan's raw silk output.^ Still, that concerns about quality were being voiced at this point reflects the fact that buyers in America were becoming more exacting; it also indicates that, whatever success Japan had had thus far in mechanizing its silk-reeling industry, some fundamental problems remained to be addressed. 372

Thus, thirty years after the establishment of a new

government whose avowed aims included the modernization of

the nation's industries, silk reeling in Japan still depended

to a significant degree on a traditional technology that had been in use for well over a century; and even those silk

producers who had turned to some form of v^estern-style

reeling had done so in such haphazard fashion that much of

their output was qualitatively indistinguishable from what was being reeled by hand. Unquestionably, mechanization had proceeded with considerable rapidity in the industry; by

1900 there were about two thousand mechanized filatures in

Japan, whereas only one had existed thirty years earlier.^

Impressive as this growth was, it must be viewed with caution, and cannot be considered except in conjunction with the two most prominent features of Japan's silk-reeling industry at this time; the very limited degree of mechanization that characterized most of the nation's mechanized filatures, and the remarkable persistence of the traditional zaguri reeling technique in many areas of the country.

That mechanization was not undertaken as thoroughly as it might have been was due in part to the attitude— or, more properly, the attitudes— of the central government. At the very outset of the Meiji period, officials in Tokyo eagerly embraced the notion of a rapid and wholesale conversion to destern silk-reeling techniques. Tomioka 373

Filature was both the direct result of their enthusiasm and a suggestion that the government was willing to back up its words with action and money. Tomioka was indeed a major achievement, considering the time and the place. It rivaled places in Europe for technological sophistication and for the quality of its output, and it set a standard for Japan's silk-reeling industry. But from the start the filature had to face problems which crippled its ability to have any substantial direct effect on the nation's silk reelers. It had no influence at all in Gunma, which at the time of

Tomioka's establishment was Japan's largest producer of raw silk, because to producers there, generally reckoned the best in the nation, there seemed no need to change. For the country as a whole, Tomioka was far too large and too sophisticated to allow for genuine emulation by the silk 8 producer of ordinary means. By the time the silk-reeling industry had developed to the point where Tomioka might have been copied with some exactitude, the filature itself was out 9 of date, and its machinery had to be replaced. Of even more consequence as far as the government was concerned, the entire venture was prohibitively expensive. Had the government remained firmly committed to the idea of mechanizing the silk-reeling industry, the cost might have been deemed tolerable; but the Meiji leaders directed their concerns and their priorities elsewhere. Tomioka Filature therefore became, for the government, much more a chronic 374 financial burden than a source of national prestige or a means to encourage innovation in silk reeling; and Tokyo's enthusiasm for the place vanished as quickly as it had arisen. In retrospect, Tomioka reflects, more than anything else, the hubris of a new government bent on making Japan the equal of the West and confident that, at least as far as the silk industry was concerned, the solution was simple and quick. It soon found otherwise.

But at least the government consistently, if grudgingly, maintained its financial support for Tomioka until disposing of the filature in 1893. With regard to other, private silk-reeling operations it offered almost no support whatsoever; and with regard to the industry as a whole, it failed to formulate a policy of any consistency.

From the Restoration through the 1880's the government waivered between attempting to regulate and profit from the nation's silk-reeling industry and, when that task proved too troublesome to merit the effort, allowing it to develop on its own. Neither approach did much to hasten the spread of mechanized production methods. The government's various inspection systems, ostensibly aimed at regulating the quality of raw silk bound for export, were widely, and correctly, perceived as an attempt to fill the public coffers. Just as their counterparts in the Bakumatsu period had done, Meiji-era silk producers proved remarkably adept at circumventing inspection altogether or, in the event that was 375

not possible, at having output certified even when it did not

meet required standards. Similarly, the government's attempt

to organize silk reelers was doomed to fail; the industry

varied enormously from place to place in technology and

scale, and could not at that point have been put into a

uniform framework. Then, when the government left them to

operate as they pleased, producers in most areas except

Nagano saw no reason at all to expend the time and money

required to convert to mechanized reeling as long as they were able to obtain a reasonable price for their output— a

situation which, despite the often considerable price

fluctuations that occurred within any given year, was true

for most of the late nineteenth century.

This last fact was of crucial importance, not only

for producers but for the government itself. Between 1868 and 1899, the average annual price for exported raw silk went up during all but thirteen of these years; and despite

frequent price declines within any given year, the general

trend was clearly upward. In addition, the steady rise in prices was accompanied, in most years, by often substantial

increases in the volume of exports of raw silk to the

West.^^ These concurrent trends meant that silk revenues

from the dest were increasing on an almost annual basis; and

for a government that desperately needed foreign capital to

finance its ambitious industrialization plans yet preferred not to borrow the funds, this was what mattered. It mattered 376 much less, if indeed at all, how raw silk was produced, or even how it was sold, as long as revenues from the export trade continued to go up. As a result, officials like Hayami

Kenzo were able to argue successfully that the maintenance and support of traditional zaguri reeling were in the national interest. The government was able to abandon such attempts as it made at regulating the quality of the country's exported raw silk, to take cursory interest in the industry's technological progress through meetings and exhibitions without ever adopting policies which might have had some real impact on how raw silk was produced and sold, and to indulge in the luxury of dispensing the funds it had earmarked for the industry almost purely according to political whim, without any real thought to directing the money to areas where it might have had the most effect on the reeling process itself.

It has been suggested that the Meiji government's policy with regard to the silk-reeling industry, among others, was based on an attempt to foster the growth of a capitalist class— in this case, the Yokohama wholesalers— and that changes which the government made in its policies were aimed primarily with this in mind.^^ The theory is not without foundation: the government unquestionably saw the prosperity of such groups as being to its own ultimate advantage. But it ascribes to the government's policy a consistency of purpose that did not in fact exist. Much has 377 been written about the Meiji leadership and its reputed

ability to achieve for Japan the objectives articulated at

the beginning of the era. Ifhatever the merits of such an

approach, it is impossible to find any consistent objective

in the government's attitude toward the silk-reeling

industry. The government did issue an enthusiastic call for

the mechanization of the industry in 1870; it also conspicuously avoided committing itself to playing a direct role in the endeavor beyond what it did at Tomioka; and even there, official enthusiasm for the venture was remarkably short-lived, and the filature became the most glaring, but by no means the only, indication of the capriciousness of public policy. Hayami Kenzo stands out as the only official who possessed a practical, realistic perception of how the silk-reeling industry ought to develop. But though the government clearly appreciated his no-nonsense approach to the problems facing the industry, and gave him more responsibility in this area than to any other official, in the end it ignored most of the suggestions he made with regard to mechanizing silk reeling despite the fact that his proposals did not call for any inordinate participation on the part of the government.

The government's failure to establish a precise, consistent policy with regard to the silk industry is reflected in the bureaucratic disarray under which officials who dealt with the industry labored. Until 1881, 378 jurisdiction for sericulture was divided between the

Ministries of Home Affairs and Finance; the Ministry of

Agriculture and Commerce assumed exclusive responsibility for silk production in April of that year; but even thereafter responsibility was regularly shifted from one section of the

Ministry to another, and there was no separate department to handle this, the nation's most important export industry, 12 until 1895. The Meiji government could afford this kind of haphazard approach because, left to their own devices, silk producers were able to meet at least the quantitative demands of the Western market, and by so doing were able to perform what was, for the government, their principle function— to bring in the foreign currency needed for the industrialization of other sectors of the Japanese economy whose performance the government considered far more important to the realization of its goals.

Regardless of what the Meiji leadership did, however, there were other, more basic, factors which not only retarded the rate of mechanization in silk reeling but also prolonged the ability of zaguri reeling to hold its own. Even if the government had acted more decisively, there is good reason to doubt that the results would have been much different. Silk producers in both the Tokugawa and Meiji eras were, more often than not, rather impervious to the government's admonitions and directives. There was little to be gained by obedience, since in neither period did the government exhibit 379 much genuine concern for the needs and interests of the ordinary producer. This neglect was especially apparent during the Meiji period, when the government, having committed itself to supporting industrial growth in general, proceded to use class background rather than economic need or even demonstrated ability and promise as the criterion for the disposal of funds to the silk industry. Under the circumstances, it is not surprising that the nation's raw silk producers, the overwhelming majority of whom were peasants, reacted to what the government said and did by either suspecting its motives, flouting its directives, or both. In the end, though, the activities of the government were much less important in determining how silk producers went about their business than were the economic realities under which they daily operated.

One such reality was a lack of money. The farmers who produced most of Japan's raw silk were hardly in a position to invest much money in mechanizing their operations. Already precarious at the time of the

Restoration, the economic plight of the peasantry worsened thereafter as the central government used its tax policy to make them bear a disproportionate share of the burden of financing urban industries. To make matters worse, many farmers had suffered, and continued to suffer, from dislocations brought about by the commencement of trade with the West. Many of Nagano's silk producers, it will be 380 recalled, turned to silk reeling on a significant scale only when the market collapsed for the cotton they had long been accustomed to produce as a way of supplementing their income.. Even after the change had been made, very few of these farmers were able to undertake the tremendous risk involved in specializing in raw silk production and relying on receipts from that commodity as their sole, or even main, source of income. This was not true for the disenfranchised bushi, who took up one or more aspects of silk production as a way of life in the Meiji period, who had no alternative but to specialize in something, and many of whom received generous financial support from the government. But in the silk-reeling industry, they were a tiny minority, and an intensely conservative one at that. Also very much in the minority were producers like Gunma's Hoshino ChotarS, commoners who had enough wealth to experiment with silk reeling as they saw fit and who, in addition, received government loans to help them in the process. For the vast majority of silk producers, innovation on a major scale was out of the question, especially as long as fluctuating silk prices and only marginal improvements in quality as a result of mechanizing made it far from certain that their investment would pay off. The dismally high failure rate for mechanized filatures, a rate that persisted into the 1880's, meant that for many who did attempt to innovate the investment did not, in the end, pay off; this certainly must have given pause to 381

those contemplating similar action.

In this situation, "mechanization" for most silk

producers who tried it was very modest undertaking, very

different indeed from the ideal offered by Tomioka Filature.

Even in the Hirano area of Nagano, the single most intensely

mechanized silk-producing region of Japan, investment per

reeling unit in 1885 was only five per cent of what the

government put into each of Tomioka's units; during the less

stable 1870's the figure was almost certainly lower.

Without outside funding or guarantees against losses, peasants simply could not afford to invest more than this.

The result, invariably, was a profusion of operations which were based, in one way or another, on Western silk-reeling

technology, but whose sophistication was severely limited. A

further complication was the problem of duplicating the

Western machinery used at places like Tomioka and Maebashi.

Because producers could not possibly afford to import equipment, they had no recourse but to rely on local

craftsmen, who themselves had no exposure to technology from

the West and could only turn out crude, if workable,

imitations of the originals. In addition, the relatively

slow development, at least for non-military purposes, of the

iron and steel industry restricted the extent to which

innovation could be applied to the construction of machinery. As late as 1906, nearly seventy per cent of all

silk-reeling units in Japan were made of wood, just as 382

14 traditional zaguri equipment had been. Wood was much less expensive, and much more accessible, than iron, but its use meant that the raw silk produced on such equipment was coarse and uneven since wooden machinery ran less smoothly than machinery made entirely or in part of metal. In a few respects, the inability to duplicate Western equipment was of no great consequence; Nagano's successful replacement of

Western-style copper reeling basins with ceramic ones made by local artisans represented a highly sensible improvisation, since ceramic basins were much cheaper than those made of copper and in no way detracted from the quality of the silk produced. Still, the extent to which the silk-reeling industry could innovate within traditional confines was naturally limited.

It was not only limited; in most cases, the effect of such innovations on output quality was not at all salutory.

This was especially true when producers attempted to innovate without discarding or altering their traditional reeling techniques. Even before the Meiji Restoration, silk producers tried to cope with the huge increase in demand that came with the beginning of trade with the West by modifying zaguri equipment so that two lines of thread could be reeled simultaneously. Output went up accordingly, but because the reeler had to handle two reeling frames and could exercise proportionally less caution in so doing, the quality of silk thus produced fell dramatically. Both the Tokugawa and Meiji 383

regimes repeatedly excoriated silk producers for their

reliance on this method, and tried to restrict the sale of

thread reeled on such equipment, but producers ignored them

and this double-reeling method continued to be practiced well

into the Meiji era.

In another attempt to increase the productivity of

zaguri equipment, producers in Gunma began adding foot pedals

in the late 1870's. This modification was an improvement of

sorts insofar as it enabled the reeler to use both hands to

handle the thread; but pedal-driven frames rotated at speeds

almost as erratic, if generally higher, than frames turned by hand, and in any case the zaguri apparatus remained unchanged

in all other respects. Nevertheless, since output could be

increased by using the pedal device, it enjoyed a modest

success among producers who still relied on the zaguri method

in both Gunma and Nagano. The ever skeptical Hayami Kenzo

saw the new device for what it was, a rather inefficacious

attempt to prolong the utility of zaguri reeling; inspecting

a filature in Gunma which had installed pedal-driven frames,

he pronounced them the "most foolish" way to reel silk.^^

Hayami's harsh critique was directed not against the attempt

to innovate; he continually supported such attempts as long

as they met his own rigid standards of precision and

effectiveness. Nor was it directed against the continued

reliance on the zaguri process, because, as Hayami later

indicated by his support for Gunma's cooperatives, he 334 considered it infeasible to abandon that method altogether.

Rather, Hayami’> objection was to the attempt to circumvent the process of innovation, to graft new, and not particularly advantageous, devices onto traditional machinery instead of following innovation through to a logical conclusion that would have necessitated discarding the equipment.

At the same time, Haymi recognized that the mechanization of the silk-reeling process, if undertaken, ought not— indeed, could not— consist of the kind of grandiose duplication of European operations which Tomioka represented. His own Maebashi Filature reflected this recognition. For Japan in the early Meiji years, the construction of replications of Western filatures was not a realistic solution to the need for increased production of raw silk as long as labor was so plentiful and capital so scarce. The simplified adaptation of Western reeling technology that ultimately prevailed in southern Nagano during this period was therefore a result of economic necessity, not necessarily of preference. Yet even when extremely simplified, mechanized filatures required an initial investment at least twice as great as that needed to set up a zaguri operation of the same scale, though the productivity of mechanized operations was not usually higher at first. Eventually, mechanization paid off; by the early

1890's mechanized reeling units were almost twice as productive as zaguri equipment, though production costs per 385 pound were only marginally greater.

Those who continued to use the zaguri method faced an impasse: even when they "improved" their operations by taking advantage of the collective rereeling facilities offered by cooperatives, the only way to raise their ouput was by increasing their labor force and the number of reeling units they used. On the other hand, producers who used

#estern-style reeling equipment could, once they were firmly established, count on consistently greater output per reeling unit by investing a relatively small amount of capital, and without necessarily expanding either the scale of their operations or the size of their work force. Greater output meant higher profits, which could in turn be used to finance further improvements. Mechanized filatures, by their very nature, had the potential for quantitative and qualitative development; zaguri operations could grow only by doing more of the same. Although the zaguri process had remained essentially unchanged for over a century, even after trade with the #est had put tremendous pressure on Japanese silk producers to increase their output, it is conceivable that additional refinements could have been made to the technique; but, aside from the aforementioned pedal device and the introduction of rereeling, neither of which affected the way silk thread was actually reeled, none were made. This is not surprising: once the more sophisticated Western reeling techniques had been imported from the West, it made no sense 386 for one who had decided to change his method of production to spend his meager resources on improving the traditional process since the same resources could be directed toward adopting the patently superior Western varieties.

If the change was made to Western reeling techniques, it was possible, given enough time and a steady accumulation of output revenue, to improve on what was almost always a crude operation to begin with. But for many producers, the time required to make their filatures sufficiently productive was not available; price fluctuations on the export market, the Yokohama warehouse dispute and its aftermath, the deflationary policy of the central government in the early

1880's, and the often unsatisfactory quality, and consequent low price, of the raw silk produced by the nation's first

Western-style filatures were all disastrous problems which many silk producers could not surmount. The extremely high rate of failure that sharply limited the ability of Nagano's silk-reeling industry to develop into a sophisticated, genuinely mechanized one persisted through the 1880's, though over time more filatures managed to stay in business. The trend elsewhere in Japan was virtually identical: less than half of all mechanized filatures established by 1879 were still in existence as of 1892, whereas those set up in the late 1880's tended to be more stable.This trend was not wholly a disaster; in Nagano, for example, it meant the demise of most of the original Italian-style filatures and 387

the domination of the qualitatively superior French reeling

method. It also, in at least some cases, made it easier for

producers to set up mechanized operations, because they were

able to buy discarded equipment cheaply, and thereby reduce 18 their initial capital investment. But such advantages

were more than outweighed by the high cost of this failure

rate to the silk-reeling industry as a whole, in which a

substantial proportion of producers lost the opportunity to

refine and improve their operations over time. For the first

two decades of its existence, Japan's mechanized silk-reeling

industry was in a constant state of re-creation, and was

deprived of the benefits it might have obtained from a stable accumulation of experience and experimentation. It is ironic

that the Meiji government, dependent as it was on the raw

silk trade, took no action to reverse the situation, even

though by the 1880's it was clear that major and permanent

increases in productivity could be achieved only by the very

mechanized filatures it had largely ignored.

The cooperative organizations that were formed in

Nagano, Gunma and elsewhere in the 1870's and 1880's arose

largely in response to the financial vulnerability under which most silk producers functioned; and to the extent that

they succeeded in providing their members with a measure of

security in this regard, they had the potential for affecting

technological development. They could have served as

educational networks through which producers gained exposure 388 to the notion and the process of mechanization— exposure that was sorely needed.In Nagano, cooperatives like

Kaimeisha did take steps in this direction, and met with some success. But because the cooperatives were established primarily out of economic considerations, technological improvement was at best a secondary concern; in Gunma, it was, aside from the introduction of collective rereeling, neglected altogether. It is not, therefore, coincidental that many cooperatives disbanded when they were no longer financially attractive for their members, even though these same members had by no means made much, if any, technological progress during their affiliation, and still stood to benefit from the experience and expertise of others in the cooperative. Techological improvements were simply not a strong enough imperative to warrant the continuation of the organizations once individual producers had attained a sufficient degree of financial stability, or once it was clear that the cooperative could not offer them such stability. Even cooperatives like Gunma's Kakueisha, which managed to thrive beyond the 1880's, did so because they afforded their membership financial advantages they could not have obtained elsewhere, not because they had at their disposal superior technology.

Just as capital shortages, the lack of public support and other factors made it difficult for silk producers with

Western-style equipment to improve, or even sustain, their 389 operations, so too did they hinder the ability of producers who used the zaguri method to abandon it for the mechanized alternative. But there were other reasons as well for a persistence of zaguri reeling that was, by any measure, extraordinary. As late as 1893, when mechanized output accounted for nearly half of all raw silk produced in Japan, fully ninety-nine per cent of all households engaged in silk 20 reeling still used the zaguri method. Despite its obvious advantages— not the least of which was potentially higher profits— mechanized silk reeling was strikingly unsuccessful in supplanting the traditional production method in the industry as a whole. Its employment was restricted to a few areas, notably southern Nagano and parts of Yamanashi prefecture, while the rest of the country's silk producers ignored it. Zaguri reeling obviously had a formidable resilience, too much to be explained away by the circumstances that limited the growth of its mechanized alternative.

For the financially beleaguered peasantry of the

Meiji era, the adoption of mechanized silk reeling involved not only the assumption of a risk that was either intolerable or economically impossible, but also in many cases the abandonment of a production method that was, if nothing else, safe. In a period of considerable economic dislocation, this counted for a great deal. A farmer who had two or three zaguri reeling units set up at his home did not produce very 390

much raw silk, but the market, and therefore an income, were

all but assured. The equipment was cheap, easily obtained and easily repaired. Because the extremely small scale

enabled the producer to rely on the women in his family to do the reeling during periods when they were not needed for agricultural tasks, he had no labor costs. And finally, precisely because his output was low, the zaguri producer was less vulnerable to the price fluctuations on the export market that doomed so many mechanized filatures; even a substantial change in price would have had a minor effect on his net receipts. He could not, of course, hope to become wealthy by reeling silk on so small a scale; but neither did 21 he fear the ruination of his efforts.

The many former members of the warrior class who went into silk reeling during the Meiji period relied mostly on the zaguri method, partly out of the same considerations that motivated the peasantry. Most of them had been bushi of low rank, and even before the Restoration had lived on a marginal income; and since many of the poorer ones, particularly in areas like Gunma, already had experience in reeling silk, it was often less a case of taking up a new livelihood than of simply continuing one which, in desperation, they had begun prior to 1868. The first years of the Meiji period were bleak for this group, as the abrupt elimination of their privileged social status was followed by their progressive impoverishment as a result of the government's decision to 391 abandon its program of economic support for the ex-bushi.

Such desperate circumstances could, and in some cases did, prompt innovative activity that might not otherwise have been undertaken; the founders of Nagano's Rokkusha were among those former warriors who responded in this way.

But in the main the ex-bushi were an extremely conservative lot to begin with, and since the new era had thus far treated them rather badly they naturally reacted to their worsening situation by eschewing what was novel in favor of what was traditional, known and, to them, therefore safer. Very few of those for whom silk reeling became the primary source of income appear to have considered the possibility of mechanized reeling, in spite of the fact that it was they, not the more adventurous peasants, who got the funds the government allocated to the silk industry.

Instead, they clung to the traditional way of reeling thread. They also tended to work collectively— sometimes as many as several hundred were involved in one enterprise— and, with the exception of those in Gunma, to avoid contact with peasants engaged in silk reeling, despite the fact that the latter group could have offered them some badly-needed advice on how to run their operations. The chronic inability of the majority of ex-bushi to make a financial success out of their silk-reeling ventures, as evidenced by their almost universal failure to repay the "loans" they received from the central government, served only to prolong their dependence on zaguri 392

reeling. Having lost the money on their first attempt, they

were not in an economic position to adopt a new and more

expensive technology, even had they had the inclination to do

so.

In the 1870's and 1880's, both the peasantry and the

disenfranchised bushi who reeled silk turned to cooperative

organizations to secure better prices for their output and to

reduce handling costs incurred when they dealt with third

parties. It has been alleged that areas which concentrated

on zaguri production, especially Gunma, opted for this type

of organizational response to economic needs, while heavily mechanized areas like Nagano relied instead on technological 22 innovation. In fact, Gunma's first cooperative predated

Nagano's by only a matter of months, and cooperatives were

not in any way unique to zaguri production, dhat was unique

was the ability of cooperatives composed primarily or

exclusively of zaguri producers to outlast those set up by

producers who had mechanized, and to help make it possible

for zaguri thread to compete on the export market. Nagano's

cooperatives, most of whose members had mechanized, were

rather volatile organizations; their membership was

constantly changing, and few of them lasted much beyond the

1880's. But Nagano's silk-reeling industry itself was in a

constant state of flux as operations either collapsed, to be

succeeded at the same rate by new filatures, or underwent

expansion and renovation. Cooperative structures, at least 393 as they evolved, were ultimately too confining for such activities, and therefore they were abandoned.

Cooperatives were ideally suited, however, for regions like Gunma where reeling technology remained virtually unchanged, and where there was no apparent desire to alter the situation. Since their stability depended largely on the maintenance of a fixed pattern of production, these cooperatives represented no threat to their members, most of whom were content enough with the zaguri process. At the same time, the cooperatives gave producers the security of numbers, and offered them such financial backing as they required when their small scale made it difficult or impossible to obtain such help elsewhere. Most importantly, virtually all zaguri-based cooperatives sooner or later adopted the practice of collectively rereeling all their raw silk before shipping it to Yokohama. The addition of this post-production process mitigated some of the flaws of zaguri output— notably lumpiness and variations in thread thickness— that most often aroused destern criticism, and thereby made it possible for such output to keep its export market without requiring alterations in the way thread was actually reeled. In the addition of this process, like in the willingness of Gunma's producers to experiment with organizational structures until they had created those most suitable for their purposes (consider the case of Seishi

Gensha), zaguri producers showed considerable willingness to 394 change the way they did things if circumstances so required; but in all cases it was a willingness that stopped short of any tinkering with the reeling method itself. The very purpose of the changes these producers undertook was to prevent the need for such fundamental change. It is a mark of their ingenuity and resilience that they succeeded in this regard throughout the rest of the nineteenth century.

This technological stasis that characterized such a large portion of Japan's silk-reeling industry was possible in large measure because the domestic and international silk markets did not demand otherwise. Japanese silk weavers, their methods virtually unaffected by the technological changes occurring elsewhere in the silk industry, continued to prefer zaguri thread, the defects of which were far less of a problem for their hand-operated machinery than for the mechanized looms of the irJest. The far more lucrative export market also consumed large amounts of this kind of raw silk.

Despite the occasionally ominous warnings that were issued from Western merchant houses and other sources about a possible reduction in demand for Japanese raw silk unless qualitative improvements were instituted, sales to the West actually went up during most years, and sales of zaguri thread increased at roughly the same rate as did those for machine-reeled output. Price fluctuations were less favorable; the average annual price for exported raw silk fell for half of the first thirty years of the Meiji 395

23 period. But for the small-scale zaguri producer, such

declines were less potentially calamitous than for those

producers who had invested in Western-style equipment and

whose fortunes rested heavily on their ability to obtain high

revenues for their output within a relatively short period of

time. Under the circumstances, the zaguri method represented

a safer, more assured, source of income at a time when few in

the silk-reeling industry were in any position to undertake

much risk.

To a significant degree, then, the benefits of

mechanized silk reeling were outweighed by the hazards

involved in the process, and by the advantages of adhering to

the traditional production method. Aside from a few anemic

and impractical attempts to regulate the production and

quality of the nation's raw silk, the Meiji government

offered little in the way of leadership or encouragement, and

virtually nothing in the way of financial assistance.

Western buyers complained loudly about the quality of

Japanese raw silk and about the need for technological

improvement, and then gave the lie to their objections by

purchasing ever-increasing amounts of the commodity, despite

the lack of substantive qualitative change and regardless of

the method of production. Except for the sheer size of the

Western market, which guaranteed producers that their output

could be easily, if not always profitably, sold, there were

no external incentives propelling the silk-reeling industry 396 into mechanization for at least the first two decades of the

Meiji era. The rapid economic growth that occurred in Japan from the late 1880's, and especially after the war with China in 1894-5, did much to improve the situation, and though there was still no wholesale conversion to mechanized reeling, the silk industry responded not only with an increase in production that surpassed the gains made in the

1870's and 1880's, but with impressive technological improvements as well.^^ Before this time, though, anyone contemplating the establishment of a mechanized silk-reeling operation faced a formidable array of obstacles, and consequently most silk producers decided against such action. Mechanization in Japan's silk-reeling industry was therefore a very limited phenomenon, in both a technological and geographic sense, during the early Meiji years; but that it was undertaken at all was an achievement of considerable magnitude, a testament to the resourcefulness and spirit of those who took up the task. 397

Notes to Chapter VI

Ipor figures, see Noshomusho Nomukyoku, Sanshigyo ni kansuru sanko shiryS, pp. 61-63.

Zotsuka Katsuo, "SeishigyS ni okeru gijutsu dônyû," in Umemura Mataji, ed. Nihon keizai no hatten (Tokyo: Nihon Keizai Shinbunsha, 1976), p. 163.

3lshii, Nihon sanshigyo shi bunseki p. 112.

^The reports are reprinted in Noshomusho Nomukyoku, ed. Yushutsu juyohin yoran: sanshi (Tokyo: Yühikaku, 1896), pp. 34-54.

^Ibid, p. 34. In Noshomusho, ed. "Nihon zenkoku kiito rinji chosasho." (Tokyo: Noshomusho, n.d.), the Ministry of Agriculture and Commerce concluded that seventy to eighty per cent of all machine-reeled silk thread was no better than that reeled by hand.

Gishii, Nihon sanshigyo shi bunseki, pp. 41-42. See especially table 5 on p. 43.

^Based on figures 'in the generally reliable Dai Nihon Sanshikai, Nihon sanshigyo shi, p. 428. In a survey published in 1902, however, the Ministry of Agriculture and Commerce recorded 1,722 filaturess as of 1899. The reasons for this discrepancy are not clear, though it is true that official statistics for the late nineteenth century are frequently unreliable. See Noshomusho Shôkôkyoku Korauka K5j5 Chosa Gakari, ed. Kgjo chSsa yoryo (Tokyo: Noshomusho, 1902), p.4.

^Ironically, a French observer of Tomioka Filature in the 1890's reached the same conclusion, and declared that the optimum size for a silk-reeling operation was about one hundred units. See Yoshiike Yoshiraasa, Sanshi hanron (Tokyo: Hakubunkan, 1894), pp. 215-16.

^Mitsui, in fact, replaced the machinery shortly after taking over at Tomioka. See Kobayashi, Nihon no kôgyôka to kangyo haraisage, pp. 76-93.

l^Figures are in Noshomusho Nomukyoku, Sanshigyo ni kansuru sanko shiryS, pp. 60-62.

llSee, for example, Ishii, Nihon sanshigyo shi bunseki, pp. 442-44.

l^Based on information in Gunma, GSS, 1:484-85. 398

l^Ehado, Sanshigyo chiiki no keizai chiriteki kenkyu, pp. 72-73.

l^ôishi, Nihon sangyo kakumei no kenkyu, p. 175.

Hayami is quoted in Otsuka, Sanshi, 1:403. For information on pedal-driven devices, see Takahashi Keizai Kenkyujo, Nihon sanshigyo hattatsu shi, p. 501.

l^Based on statistics in Hashimoto, Kiito boeki no hensen, pp. 102-4. See also Otsuka, "Seishigyo ni okeru gijutsu dônyû".

l^See statistics in Takahashi Keizai Kenkyujo, Nihon sanshigyo hattatsu shi, p. 501.

13por examples, see Nakamura Masanori, "Kikai seishi no hatten to shokusan kôgyô seisaku," p. 18 and Shinano, SSS, 3:136-37.

l^The central government recognized, or at least was aware of, this need. In Kôgyô iken, 18:86, the Ministry of Agriculture and Commerce frankly acknowledged that Our people have considerable experience and are skilled in many things; but while they appreciate the utility of machinery, they have simply built factories without any real knowledge of, or experience with, the machinery. They have hired workers who also lack experience and training. Understandably, then, there has been only limited success (in mechanization)."

^^Takahashi Keizai Kenkyujo, Nihon sanshigyo hattatsu shi, p. 502.

21por price changes within each year for the period 1370-1884, see Hashimoto, Kiito boeki no hensen, pp. 76-84.

22see, for example, Furushima Toshio, Kajinishi Mitsuhaya, Oguchi Kenzo and Tatewaki Sadatoshi, Seishi rSdosha no rekishi (Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten, 1955), p. 29.

23por production figures per prefecture for 1878-1883 and 1886, see Yokohama Shi, Yokohama shi shi, 3, p t . 1:474-475, tables 31 and 32; for prices, see Noshomusho Nomukyoku, Sanshigyo ni kansuru sanko shiryo, pp. 60-61.

24one such improvement was the invention by Minorigawa Naosaburo of an iron reeling frame which could handle four lines of thread simultaneously. The device, first exhibited at the 1895 Kyoto Exhibition, was used by Mitsui as a replacement for Tomioka Filature's old machinery. It sold 399 well in Japan, and was even marketed overseas. Minorigawa's invention marked the beginning of the end of the silk-reeling industry's dependence of foreign technology. For further information, see Honda, Nihon sanshigyo shi, p. 385, and Kajinishi, Gijutsu hattatsu shi; keikôgyô, pp. 168-69. 400

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