Robert Neff has authored and co-authored several books, including Letters from Joseon, Korea Through Western Eyes and Brief Encounters.
Drunken sailors, deadly riots: A tale from 19th century Nagasaki
A view of Nagasaki in the 1890s. Robert Neff Collection
By Robert Neff
Nagasaki in the 19th century was Japan's version of the American “wild wild west.”
Merchant marines and sailors from all parts of the world gathered in this port to drink, purchase companionship and fight. Most of the time these fights were simple affairs ― one or two sailors fighting with a couple of sailors from an opposing navy ― but on occasion they became literal street battles. One such incident took place in August 1886, when four large Chinese warships sailed into the port from Korea.
While the ships had been in Korea, the sailors had not been granted shore leave and were looking forward to going out and painting the town red. According to one “unprejudiced” witness, too many of the Chinese sailors were granted shore leave at the same time and descended on Nagasaki like a tsunami. They were “insolent and 'cheeky' to the [Japanese] shopkeepers,” and everyone was expecting there to be trouble before they left. Those expectations were soon met.
The Chinese cruiser Ting Yuen in Japan, circa 1896. Robert Neff Collection
On August 13, a group of Chinese sailors patronized a brothel near the foreign settlement and ― on satisfying their baser needs ― informed the proprietor, Kakamura Shinzaburo, that they were going out to grab a bite and would return later. He agreed to keep their tables until they returned.
Shortly after the first group left, a second group of Chinese sailors arrived and demanded to be given tables and companionship. The proprietor explained to the men that his establishment was already booked for the evening and that they would have to go elsewhere. The drunken sailors refused and began to destroy his business.
A policeman named Kurokawa was summoned and he tried to calm the Chinese sailors but ― due to their intoxicated state and the language barrier ― had little success. Frustrated, he seized two of the most violent Chinese sailors and tried to arrest them but they broke free and fled into the streets. Convinced the Chinese sailors were gone for the night and that the matter was now settled, Kurokawa returned to his police box. His assumption was wrong.
The brothel district of Maruyama in Nagasaki, circa 1900s. Robert Neff Collection
A short time later, a group of Chinese sailors approached his police box and began taunting and yelling vile insults. He recognized one of the men who had escaped him earlier and rushed out to apprehend him. It was a brave but foolish move. The sailor drew a sword (he had recently purchased it in a Japanese curio shop as a souvenir) and struck the policeman on the head. Kurokawa was left dazed in the street as his attackers laughed as they fled the scene.
Kurokawa, however, was not about to quit. As soon as he regained his senses, he gave chase. If we are to believe the accounts, Kurokawa single-handedly apprehended the entire group ― most likely he received some assistance from the Japanese shopkeepers ― and discovered the chief instigator was a Chinese naval officer. The naval officer was turned over to the Chinese consulate but the rest of the sailors were confined in the local jail.
The incident was considered quite serious and the governor sent word to the Chinese naval commander to keep his sailors confined to their warships until the matter had been resolved. But the Chinese commander refused.
Nagasaki pier, circa 1900s. Robert Neff Collection
On August 17, nearly 400 Chinese sailors made their way into the port and quickly got drunk. They roamed the streets buying curios and souvenirs ― including swords, sword-canes and spears ― which alarmed the Japanese authorities. Many of the Japanese police armed themselves with sabers (usually they carried wooden clubs) in anticipation of the violent clashes that were to occur.
The main clash took place near Kurokawa's police box about 8 p.m. Kurokawa was not on duty (he was still recovering from his injuries), so his replacement ― who was described as “being very quiet and inoffensive” ― became the target of the Chinese mob's rage. They goaded him with insults and hurled fruit at him, but the policeman (who was only armed with a club) refused to respond. He did, however, send word to the police headquarters for assistance. Unfortunately, for him, it came too late.
Some of the Chinese sailors attacked him and tried to take his club from him but he fought back. For his efforts, the sailors beat and stabbed him to death. The sailors then swept through the streets with “flourished swords and snatched what they fancied out of shops without paying and made cowardly attacks [upon] inoffensive persons passing quietly through the streets.”
Mogi Hotel in Nagasaki, circa 1900s. Robert Neff Collection
The Japanese police soon arrived and, assisted by residents, were involved in a pitched three-hour street battle involving more than 600 people. Swords, spears, knives, sticks, tiles from the roofs and stones from the streets were used as weapons by both sides but the numbers were on the Japanese side, and eventually the Chinese were forced to retreat to their ships.
Two Japanese police were killed and 20 police and 10 Japanese citizens were wounded. The Chinese lost five men (one officer and four sailors) and 50 sailors were wounded ― many of them seriously. For several days the Chinese fleet remained in Nagasaki while the naval officers and government officials tried to resolve the incident so that it would not spiral out of hand and threaten the already strained relationship between the two countries.
Indirectly, this incident may have helped save the Korean monarch ― but, in the words of Prof. Andrei Lankov, that is a tale for another time.