The authorities and the visitors were so much pleased with each other that an arrangement was entered into by which a Portuguese ship was to be yearly despatched—probably from Macao—laden with articles of trade. The returns were made in gold, silver, and copper, of which latter metal there was abundance in Japan.
Then came the establishment of a mission under Francis Xavier, afterwards canonized by the Catholic Church, and a man of wonderful ability and with all the requisites for a Christian missionary of his time. He and his assistants did not meddle with Japanese affairs or politics, soon made friends, and many converts; but St. Francis Xavier died in 1552, and his successors were not so wise or so Christian-like as he had been. They differed among themselves and meddled with matters which did not concern them. The Franciscans and Dominicans quarrelled with the Jesuits, but they obtained, among them, a very large number of converts, among whom were numbered some of the princes or feudal lords.
The Dutch came next in establishing a footing in Japan, about 1598. One of their first vessels had an English pilot named William Adams, who has left us a narration of his long residence there—a romantic story, but which can only be alluded to here. He arose to high distinction, and, among other things, instructed the Japanese in the art of ship-building and mathematics.
An English factory was established at Hirado in 1613, but the enterprise was soon abandoned.
All went well with the Portuguese until about the year 1617, when a revolution occurred in Japan which placed in power those who were hostile to both foreign traders and to missionaries. This revolution had a fatal effect upon the Portuguese influence, especially as they had, as has been said, showed imprudence in mingling in the politics of the country, while their ambassador exhibited great pride and haughtiness, in marked contrast with the Dutch. The latter, attending strictly to their mercantile transactions and moved by hatred and jealousy of their rivals, the Portuguese, took good care to give the assurance that they themselves were of a different creed from the Jesuits.
When, therefore, in 1637, the Portuguese—traders, missionaries, and all—were banished from the country, after many persecutions and much bloodshed, the Dutch were allowed to keep up an intercourse, but under severe restrictions.
Once rid of the Portuguese, there then began a persecution of the native Christians, which continued for many years, during which it is said that several millions suffered for their faith. The number sounds large, but all accounts agree in regard to it.
Then the Dutch fell under suspicion, for several good reasons, and were only permitted to remain at all on condition of residing at one spot, where they could be guarded and every motion observed. In 1641 they were ordered to remove to Dezima, a small island near Nagasaki, which Kæmpfer said “was more like a prison than a factory.” But, unwilling to quit the prospect of profitable trade, they willingly underwent this imprisonment and agreed to forego any of the outward signs of Christianity, such as leaving off divine service, etc.
The island Dezima is shaped like a fan, and is very small, only about six hundred by two hundred and fifty feet, and mostly of artificial construction. It was connected with the town of Nagasaki by a bridge, on which there was always a strong guard. The whole island was surrounded by a high fence with iron spikes. No stone houses were permitted to be built, and the interpreters, clerks, and servants were spies, whom the Dutch were obliged to pay. The few ships allowed to come annually were searched and their arms and powder taken away. “A more annoying and thorough system of imprisonment and espionage was never devised.”
Although subject to this oppression and contumely, the Dutch continued their trade—one or two ships going from Batavia every year—until Japan was thrown open to the world by means of the action of the American expedition of 1853. But before speaking of that expedition we must allude to the idea which has been extensively entertained that there were formerly, and until quite recently, two Emperors at the same time in Japan. This erroneous idea was conceived in this way. About the year 1200, of our era, the then Emperor created a supreme general, called Shógun. Each Shógun owed allegiance to the Emperor, and was invested by him, but his position as supreme head of the military organization, which gave him immense influence with the powerful nobles or feudal lords, made him almost the equal of the sovereign. Several years after Japan had been opened to the world and treaties made with many nations, in 1868, the Shógun’s power was shattered during a war which might be denominated a revolution. Military domination was swept away and the Mikado reinstated in his position of supreme authority. In that year the powerful Tokugawa clan, and others who supported the Shógun, were overcome by the great clans of Satsuma, Choshin, and Tosa, and a powerful northern opposition was put down by the Mikado’s forces.