CHAPTER XXXII.

JAPANESE PREPARATIONS FOR TREATY-MAKING.

THE _Mississippi_ touching at Napa, found there the _Supply_, and met the _Vandalia_ on the way to Hong Kong, where the Commodore arrived on the 7th of August. The _Powhatan_ returned from a futile visit to Riu Kiu on the 25th. To protect American lives and property against the imminent dangers of the Tai-ping rebellion, the _Supply_ was sent to Canton and the _Mississippi_ anchored off Whampoa. The remainder of the squadron was ordered to Cum-sing-moon, between Macao and Hong Kong, where the machinery which sadly needed repair was refitted.

Having thus disposed of his force, the Commodore, in order to arrange the accumulated results of his voyage to Japan, took a house at Macao for his own accommodation and that of the artists and surveying party. A hospital, which was also established in the town, under the care of the fleet surgeon, was soon full of fever patients; and an annex, in the form of a cemetery, was found necessary. The Japan expedition left American graves at Macao, Napa, Uraga, Yokohama, Shimoda, and Hakodaté. Among the officers lost, was Lieutenant John Matthews drowned at the Bonin islands. His name was given by Perry to a bay near Napa, which he surveyed. His monument in Vale Cemetery at Schenectady, N. Y. was erected by his fellow-officers of the Asiatic Squadron.

The Commodore himself, worn-out by heavy and multifarious duties, was finally prostrated by an attack of illness. Nevertheless the work of the expedition suffered no remission. The making of charts, and the completion of nearly two-hundred sketches and drawings, and the arrangement and testing of the scientific apparatus which was to be proved before the Japanese, were perfected. The daguerreotype, talbotype, and magnetic telegraphic apparatus were especially kept in working order. The Japanese from the first, as it proved, were mightily impressed by these “spirit pictures,” into which as they believed, went emitted particles of their actual souls.

The lengthened stay of the Commodore at Macao enabled him to see the places of interest and to study life in this old city, once so prosperous; whence had sailed, three centuries before, in the Portuguese galleons explorers, traffickers and missionaries to Japan. The opulent American merchants of Canton made Macao their place of summer sojourn, so that elegant society was not lacking. With the French commodore, Montravel, whose fleet lay at anchor in the roadstead, and with Portuguese whom he had met in Africa, his intercourse was especially pleasant. It had been the intention of the Commodore to wait until spring before sailing north, but the suspicious movements of the French and Russians, spoken of below, induced him to alter his plans.

Towards the end of November, the French naval commander suddenly left port under sealed orders. About the same time the Russian Admiral Pontiatine in the _Pallas_ and with three other vessels lay at Shanghai, having returned from Nagasaki. Suspecting that either or both the Russians and French contemplated a visit to Yedo Bay, Perry became very anxious for the arrival of the _Lexington_, which had more presents for the Japanese on board. Rather than allow others to get advantage and reap where he had sown, before he himself had thrust in the sickle, Perry resolved to risk the exposure and inconvenience of a mid-winter cruise to Japan, despite the stories told of fogs and storms on the Japanese coast. The dangers of a winter sea-journey between the two countries are portrayed, even in very ancient Chinese poetry.

The object of the American mission had been reported at Kiōto, where it created a profound impression and intense excitement. The first thing done, and that within four days after Perry left, was to despatch a messenger to the Shintō priests at the shrines of Isé to offer up prayers for the peace of the Empire, and for the divine breath to sweep away “the barbarians.” One week later, the Shō-gun Iyéyoshi died. He was buried in Shiba in Yedo in a superb mausoleum among his ancestors, but not until the 7th of September.

At Yedo, the question of acceeding to the demand of the barbarians was hotly debated. The daimiōs “nearly lost their hearts in consultation that lasted day and night.” The Prince of Mito wanted to fight them. “The officials knew it would be madness to resist an enemy with myriads of men-of-war who could capture all their junks and blockade their coasts.” The Shō-gun’s minister was Abé, Isé no Kami, the daimiō of Bizen, who had married the adopted daughter of Echizen. He it was who inspired the arguments of the government. He believed that as Japan was behind the world in mechanical arts, it would be better to have intercourse with foreigners, learn their drill and tactics, and thus fight them with their own weapons. If the Japanese pleased, they might then shut up their country or even go abroad to conquer other nations. Others doubted the ability or willingness of many of the disaffected class to fight for Tokugawa.

The native historians tell us that “the Shō-gun Iyéyoshi, who had been ill since the beginning of the summer, was rendered very anxious about this sudden and pressing affair of the outer barbarians;” and, soon after sickened and died. He was the father of twenty-five children, all but four of whom had died in infancy. One of his daughters had married. His death at this alarming crisis plunged his retainers in the deepest grief. Iyésada, his seventh child, succeeded him as the thirteenth Shō-gun of the Tokugawa line.

Of this fact, Perry had received official notice from the Japanese through the Dutch authorities. As the communication hinted that delay was necessary on account of official mourning, Perry, instead of cock-billing his yards, thought it a ruse, and delayed not a moment.

Accordingly, on the 14th of January 1854, in the _Susquehanna_, with the _Powhatan_ and _Mississippi_ towing the stores ships _Lexington_ and _Southampton_, the Commodore left for Riu Kiu; the _Macedonian_ and _Supply_ having gone on a few days before to join the _Vandalia_. The _Plymouth_ and _Saratoga_ were to come later. The steamers arrived at Napa, January 20th, and the Commodore thus paid his fourth visit to Riu Kiu.

The slow sailers were to be sent ahead to Yedo Bay, with one week’s start. Captain Abbot in the _Macedonian_, in company with the _Vandalia_, _Lexington_, and _Southampton_ set out northward on the 1st of February. The Commodore followed on the 7th with the three steamers, meeting the _Saratoga_ just outside. The _Supply_ with coal and live stock from Shanghai, was to join the squadron in Yedo Bay. The promise of an “imposing squadron of twelve vessels,” seemed about to be fulfilled.

In Yedo, the new Shō-gun Iyésada and his advisers had felt that something must be done both in peaceful and warlike preparations. The ex-daimiō of Mito, released from confinement, was appointed commissioner of maritime defences. A series of forts was built on the shallow part of the bay in front of Yedo, off Shinagawa its southern suburb. Thousands of laborers were paid _isshiu_ (6¼ cts.) per day, and the coins minted for that purpose are still called _dai-ba_ (fort, or fort money) by the people around Shinagawa. They were creditably built of earth, and faced with stone; but having no casements, would have illy defended the wooden city from bombardment by Perry’s columbiads. A great number of cannon were cast, and military preparations continued unceasingly. The expenses were met by a levy on the people of Yedo and vicinity, and on the rich merchants of Ozaka.

The old edict of Iyéyasŭ concerning naval architecture was rescinded, and permission was given to the daimiōs, to build large ships of war. Their distinguishing flag was a red ball representing the sun on a white ground. This was the origin of the present flag of Japan. The law of 1609 had commanded vessels of over five hundred koku (2,500 bushels, or 30,000 cubic feet capacity) to be burned, and none but small coasting junks built. Orders were given to the Dutch to build a man-of-war, and to import books on modern military science. A native who had learned artillery from the Dutchmen at Nagasaki, was now released from the prison, and was made musketry instructor. His method soon became fashionable and he thus became the introducer of the European system of warfare into Japan. Drilling, cannon-casting and fort-building were now the rage.

Yet in all this fuss and preparation, wise men saw only the fulfilment on a national scale of their own old proverb. “On seeing the enemy, to begin to whet arrows.” Belated war-preparations, when the enemy was at their gates, seemed futile. On the 1st day of the 11th month (December 2d) a notification was issued, that “owing to want of military efficiency, the Americans would, on their return, be dealt with peaceably.” The salary of the governor of Uraga was raised. Very significantly, at the end of the year, the old practice of Fumi-yé, or trampling on the cross and Christian emblems, so long practiced at Nagasaki, was abolished. Perry’s way was now clear, though he knew it not.

There was a native scholar in Yedo, a typical progressive Japanese of this period, a student, through the medium of the Dutch language, of European literature. Hearing of the order for a man-of-war and books from Holland, he petitioned the government rather to send Japanese to Europe to study the most important arts, and to assist in building and working the ship. They would thus learn the art of navigation on the voyage, and see the foreign countries. The authorities did not favor his proposition. Yoshida Shoin, one of his former pupils, heard of his old master’s plan, and resolved himself to make a sea-voyage.

When Admiral Pontiatine with the Russian ships put in at Nagasaki in September “to discuss the question of the northern boundary of the two nations in Saghalin,” Yoshida bade his master good-bye, merely saying that he was going on a visit to Nagasaki, but secretly intending to go abroad.

Sakuma, who divined his plan, gave him money for his expenses; and, according to the custom of polite farewells, composed a stanza of Chinese poetry in which he wished him a safe and pleasant journey. On his arrival at Nagasaki, the ship had gone. He then returned to Yedo, and Sakuma secretly told him how to set about getting passage on the American vessels. We shall hear of Yoshida again. He and Sakuma were typical men in a small, but soon to be triumphant, majority.

As the time for Perry’s return was near at hand, the Bakafu chose Hayashi, the chief Professor of the Chinese language and literature in the Dai Gakkō (Great School, or University) to treat with Perry. As the American interpreters were Chinese scholars, the documents, besides those in the Dutch and English language for the benefit of Americans, would be in the Chinese character for the benefit of the Japanese. Hayashi was a man profoundly versed in Chinese learning, a pedant, and a stickler for exact terms. He was also a most devotedly loyal retainer of the house of Tokugawa. His rank was that of a Hatamoto (flag-bearer), and his title Dai Gaku no Kami, or Regent of the University, (not “Prince” of Dai Gaku.) He was of benevolent countenance, and courtly manners, dignified presence. He had lived the life of a scholar, expounding the classics of Confucius and Mencius, and was highly respected at court for his vast learning. In brief, he was a typical product, and one of the best specimens of Yedo culture in the later days of the Tokugawas. The Hayashi family was noted for the many scholars in Chinese literature that adorned the country and the name. He was carefully instructed by his superior officers as how he should deal with Perry. He made his preparations so as to leave the academic groves of Séido for the treaty-house at Uraga; for there, it was decreed in Yedo that the treaty was to be made.

Fortunately for the Japanese, they had a first-rate interpreter of English, though Perry knew it not. His name was Nakahama Manjiro. With his two companions, he had been picked up at sea in 1841, by an American captain, J. H. Whitfield, and brought by way of Honolulu to the United States, where he obtained a good school education. Returning to Hawaii in 1850, he resolved with his two companions to return to Japan. Furnished with a duly attested certificate of his American citizenship by the United States consul, Elisha Allen, afterwards minister to Washington, he built a whale-boat named _The Adventurer_, sailed to Riu Kiu in the _Sarah Boyd_, Captain Whitmore, and in January, 1851, landed. The three men proved their nationality to the natives of Riu Kiu not by their language, which they had forgotten, but by their deft manipulation of chopsticks, the use of which a Japanese baby learns before he can talk.

After six months in Riu Kiu and thirty months in Nagasaki, the waifs reached their homes. On being brought to Yedo with his boat, Manjiro was made a samurai or wearer of two swords. As an official translator, he wrestled with Bowditch and logarithms, even to the partial bleaching of his hair. After several years of severe work, twenty manuscript copies of his book were made. His boat, now come to honor, was used as a model for others. The original was placed in a fire-proof storehouse as an honorable relic.

On Saturday, the 11th of February, 1854 three days after the Russians had left Nagasaki, and on the ninth day of the Japanese New Year, the watchers on the hills of Idzu descried the American squadron approaching. The _Macedonian_ had grounded on the rocks a few miles from Kamakura, the medieval capital of the Minamoto Shō-guns, and near the spot over which Nitta Yoshisada, three hundred and twenty years before, had led his victorious hosts to overthrow the Hōjō usurpers. The powerful _Mississippi_, which had extricated and saved from utter loss during the Mexican war, the fine old frigate _Germantown_ from a similar peril, easily drew off the _Macedonian_ on Sunday, the 12th. On Monday, the 13th, amid all the lavish splendors of nature, for which the scenery of Adzuma, as poets call eastern Japan, is noted, the stately line of ships, the sailers towed by the steamers, moved up the bay,

“With all their spars uplifted, Like crosses of some peaceful crusade.”

The superb panorama that unfolded before the eyes from the decks charmed all eyes. Significant and portentous seemed the position of the lights of heaven on that eventful day. To the west of the peerless mountain Fuji, “the moon was setting sharply defining one side with its chill cold rays.”[29] In the orient, the sun arising in cloudless radiance burnished with brilliant glory the lordly cone as it swelled to the sky. Did the natives recall their poet’s comparison and contrast of “the old sage, grown sad and slow,” and “the youth” who “new systems, laws and fashions frames?” The moon typified Old Japan ready to pass away, the the sun heralded the New Japan that was to be. Matthew Perry was set for the rising and fall of many in the then hermit land.

Passing Uraga and Perry Island, the seven vessels dropped anchor at the “American anchorage,” not far from Yokosŭka, and off the place, called in Japanese, Koshiba-ōki, (the little grass-plot looking out on the far-off sea). Unconsciously, the officers paced their decks beneath the shadows of the twin tombs of Will Adams[30] and his Japanese wife. From these very headlands, over which the English exile, who may have seen Shakespeare, took his evening walks two centuries before, he had perhaps seen in prophetic vision a sight like that below. Happy coincidence, that Perry’s right-hand man, bore the same name, Adams!

The Commodore, still mysterious, invisible and inapproachable, had again out-flanked the wily orientals with their own weapons and turned their heavy guns against themselves. The mystery-play was kept up in a style that exceeded that of either Kiōto or Yedo. The naval generalissimo remained in the Forbidden Interior of his cabin as if behind bamboo curtains.

Kurokawa Kahéi and his two interpreters were received with excruciating politeness by Captain Adams, assisted by Messrs. Portman, Williams and the Commodore’s son. In the delegation of official men were _ométsŭkes_ (censors, spies, or checks). They were well named “eye-appliers” (to holes usually made noiselessly, with moistened finger-tips, in the paper screens of the houses). These suggested that the negotiations should be carried on at Kamakura or Uraga. The programme, foreshadowed by answers to their questions, was an American advance on that of the previous year. The “Admiral” would do no such thing. It must be near the present safe anchorage. All the visits, conferences, discussions, presents, bonbons, oranges and confectionery, offers of eggs, fish and vegetables were impotent to alter the fiat of the Invisible Power in the cabin.

For the benefit of the United States and the civilized world, the survey boats were out daily making a map of the bottom of the bay. No boats’ crews were allowed to land. No native was in any way injured in person or property. The visitors received on deck refreshments, champagne, sugared brandy, port, and politeness in profusion. Of information concerning the invisible “Admiral’s” policy, save as His Invisibility allowed it, they received not a word.

Several days passed, the broad pennant was transferred to the _Powhatan_, and the Japanese were given till the 21st to make up their mind. Captain Adams was sent to Uraga to inspect the proposed place of anchorage and the new building specially erected for treaty making. There an incident occurred which afforded more fun to the Japanese than to the Americans. On the 22nd of February, while the guns of the _Vandalia_ were thundering a salute in honor of Washington, Captain Adams with fourteen officers and attendants entered the hall of reception. Here were gathered a formidable array of dignitaries, retainers and no less than fifty soldiers. A suspicion of treachery dawned on the Americans. Was this to be a Golownin affair?

Perhaps Izawa, the daimiō in charge, was fond of a joke. He was, in fact, in favor of foreign intercourse, but more noted for high living and gay sport than for dignity of word and mien, withal a lively and popular fellow. After preliminaries, Captain Adams handed him the Commodore’s note. Preparatory to getting out his goggle-spectacles, he folded his fan with a tremendous snap. Instantly the American officers, alarmed and exchanging glances of concern, clapped hands to their revolvers.[31] All the more amused, Izawa most deliberately and with scarcely repressed inward merriment, adjusted his goggles, and read the document, finding it in good form. After decoctions of rice and tea, with sponge-cake and oranges (_saké_, _cha_, _Castile_, _mikan_) had been served, the officers returned to their ships at the 8th hour, Japanese time, the Hour of the Ape, or about 3 P. M. Captain Adams decided that the building proposed for treaty negotiations was “for simple talk large enough, but not for the display of presents.” Kurihama was then suggested. “No, the Admiral would rather go to Yedo,” “No, no! better go to Kanagawa, but do please, _please_ go back to Uraga.” This was the simple substance of much conversation carried on in Japanese, Dutch and English, with not a little consumption of paper, India ink and Chinese characters. The one word of Perry and Adams was “Yedo.” The tongues of the interpreters, or in Japanese “word-passers,” grew weary, yet no backward step was taken.

Meanwhile on the 24th, Perry moved his six ships forward up the bay ten miles, anchoring beyond Kanagawa. From the masthead the huge temple-gables, castle-towers, fire-lookouts and pagodas of Yedo could be easily seen, and the bells of Shiba and Asakŭsa heard. More exactly, the anchorage was off Dai-shi-ga-wara, a lovely meadow (_wara_) named in honor of Japan’s greatest medieval scholar, His Most Exalted Reverence, Kōbō, the inventor of the Japanese alphabets, learned in Chinese and Sanskrit, and the Philo of the Land of the Gods. He it was who absorbed Shintō, the primitive religion, into the gorgeous cult of India, and made Buddhism triumphant in all Japan. Another happy omen for Perry!

The _Vandalia’s_ boats now brought Hayashi’s letter to Perry, and Yezaémon the interpreter came nominally to plead again for Uraga, but in reality to accede to the American’s decision. A fleet messenger, riding hard on relays of horses, had brought the word to Hayashi—“If the American ships come to Yedo, it will be a national disgrace. Stop them, and make the treaty at Kanagawa.”[32] As Perry writes, “Finding the Commodore immovable in his purpose, the pretended ultimatum of the Japanese commissioners was suddenly abandoned, and a place directly opposite, at Yokohama, was suggested as the place of treaty.”

The official buildings and enclosure finished March 9th, were erected on the ground now covered by the British consulate, the Custom House, the American Union Church and two streets of the modern city. They were guarded on the left, right and rear by the retainers of Ogasawara, a high officer in the Tycoon’s palace, and Sanada, lord of Shinano; and on the water side by Matsudaira, lord of Sagami, who had hundreds of boats and their crews under his command. Against possible fanatics and assassins who might attack, or the too progressive spirits who would communicate with the Americans, the precautions were not wholly in vain. The writer has heard Japanese officers, now in high rank but enlightened, declare that they had devoted themselves by vows to the gods to kill Perry, the arch-defiler of the Holy Country. Only the strong hand of government held them back.

Further than this, the Japanese did not know how the Americans would act. Either from malice intent or provoked by unruly natives, they might begin war. Every one of Sanada’s and Ogasawara’s retainers were sworn[33] to ask no quarter, but fight till the last man was slain.

[29] Spalding’s “The Japan Expedition,” p. 213.

[30] The Mikado’s Empire, p. 262.

[31] Record of Conference with the American Barbarians. Japanese Official Manuscript.

[32] Record of Conference. Jap. MS.

[33] Japanese Record.