Story: Hagi, the Revolutionary City of Japan

Before my visit to the revolutionary city of Hagi, I had no idea that this small city in an isolated area of Japan played the crucial role in starting Japan's rapid emergence from its feudal past into a modern civilization. I also had no idea how much I needed to recuperate after the intense stress of touring the crowded, more frequently visited, Japanese cities.

A friend recommended Hagi for a few relaxing August days to rest after an exhausting introduction to Japan in Osaka, Kyoto, and Hiroshima before jumping into the intensity of modern Tokyo. Unbelievably fast trains and a much slower bus ride removed me from these crowded cities on the Pacific coast and deposited me far to the southwest on the rugged coast of the Sea of Japan, about as far geographically and culturally as one can journey from ultramodern Japan and still be on Honshu, the main island.

When I stepped off the bus, the salty tang of fish smoking in the open-air beckoned me toward large smelt-covered mesh tables "Not ready, not ready," the women on the beach emphasized when I offered to buy some of the shriveled morsels. "Festival tonight; eat tonight," they continued, blocking the hot sun with large-brimmed straw hats. As I paralleled the beach and walked the few blocks to my hotel, the prolific summer-bearing orange trees refreshed the heavy tropical air with the sharp-clean citrus odors of their ripe fruit.

The entire staff of "Senshunraku," a traditional inn, or "ryokan," welcomed me like a returning friend. Ritual bowing eased my passage into ancient hospitality. Fierce-faced mannequins in samurai armor posed stoically next to an indoor stream in the lodge-like lobby. The spotless, orderly bedroom provided instant serenity, a small table its only furniture on the tatami mat-covered floor. Hot green tea relaxed me, and the mountain-to-beach vista created a wall-sized painting for my contemplation. But first, I celebrated the modern Japanese luxury of the push-button, electronic ensuite toilet, with its heated-seat and adjustable warm-water bidet.

The beach panorama unfolded just beyond the rows of old pine trees . The view to the right extended across a mile-long sandy expanse to the town's harbor, with rocky, pine-covered mountains climbing above it. To the left, or southwest, a high hill dominated, with the outline of a ruined feudal castle organizing its base.

My plans included immersions in the inn's traditional public and private outdoor baths, swims in the warm Sea of Japan, purchases of prized Hagi pottery, traditional food and drink at the town's summer festival and fireworks at its conclusion. All of these activites were designed to help me wind down and move into a more trance-like state so I could tackle Tokyo. However, after I had thoroughly steamed myself and rinsed with ladles of cold water in the hotel's baths, I felt recharged. The hot water bubbled into the pool from natural hot springs and had a high mineral content. The ritual of immersing oneself in hot water and rinsing in cold left me both relaxed and energized at the same time.

After I returned to my room, the view of the ruined castle, with the late afternoon sun sending rays of light through fluffy clouds, sparked my sense of adventure and mystery, so I made it my first stop.

Wonder and a suspense shrouded my walk through the castle grounds that evening at sunset. Not yet knowing its history, I only imagined the purpose of the expanses of broken stone walls and ramparts. The blood-red ball of the setting sun and the late afternoon ocean breeze transformed the swaying pines that circled the ruins into back-lit sentries, whispering avatars of defeated samurai. The exhalations from these ghost-like trees enrobed me with pine-scented mist. Cavorting crows cackled at my growing unease. The castle moat brimmed with black water and cut me off from an easy retreat, but I rediscovered the arched bridge and escaped the threat of attack by emerging mosquitoes.

Early the next morning I zigzagged through streets lined with canals and ancient white-washed walls topped with pointed green-tiled roofs to explore the castle grounds, teahouse and museum while the day was still cool. Here I first learned of the importance of Hagi to modern Japan.

My English-speaking guide expressed his honor in explaining the history of the castle to me, because Americans rarely visit the town. He pointed out that the Japanese people revere Hagi much as Americans honor revolutionary Boston as the cradle for social, cultural and governmental change.

"The destruction of Hagi Castle, the citadel of the powerful Mori clan" he explained, "came at the end of a violent revolution and symbolizes the end of the feudal era in Japan like the fall of The Bastille symbolizes the end of the monarchy for modern France."

The guide narrated the history of Yoshida Shoin, a young teacher and revolutionary thinker from Hagi during the mid 1800's. Yoshida envisioned a new country that embraced progress through Western education, science, and industry, but rejected the perceived decadence of the West. The adopted son of a high-born samurai, he dedicated his short life to the abolition of the privileged class.

Yoshida's students widely distributed his writings and teachings around Japan. Hagi preserves the school within his shrine with no cost to visit. His simple act of seating students based on their achievements instead of their social rank caused the feudal overlords to shudder. They imprisoned and beheaded this teacher at age 29. News of the execution of this revered teacher initiated a violent uprising throughout the country.

After his death, while the American Civil War raged with canon and firearms, the Japanese severed their ties with feudalism using bows and arrows and swords. The town's numerous museums and historical sites vividly demonstrate these samurai artifacts in their original settings. The smuggled gunpowder and firearms from the American Civil War ended the conflict on the side of the youthful Japanese rebels. The new government of Japan, led mainly by Hagi residents, restored the ancient role of the Emperor, installed a parliamentary style national government and instituted universal education, all based on the teachings of Yoshida. The former samurai warriors of Hagi dismantled the castle, stone by stone, to show fealty to the new Meiji Emperor.

The destruction of Hagi Castle ironically sealed the fate of the city and removed its main economic base, the training and housing of the Shogun's samurai soldiers. It became a sleepy fishing village, known only for its pottery industry until home-grown tourism revived its economy over a century later.

Hagi is the perfect place to rejuvenate yourself on an uncrowded beach, to experience the customs of a traditional inn, and to meet Japanese citizens in a relaxed setting. The intensity of the more crowded cities on the east coast of Honshu disappears in moments after arriving, but the excitement of exploring Japan's samurai past makes this an extraordinary retreat.