After these preliminaries had been gotten through, the commodore made known to the commissioners, that a man had been dead on the Mississippi for two days, and he desired to know, whether he could not bury him on an island lower down the bay, which we had already surveyed, and called after the great statesman, “Webster Island.” They objected strongly to this, and said, if we would deliver the body to them at Uraga, some twenty-six miles below, that they would have it safely conveyed to Nangasaki on the island of Kiusu, a distance of five hundred miles, and there inter it in the burying-ground, which they have allowed the Dutch. The commodore would not consent to this, when they agreed to permit the burial on shore just abreast of our anchorage. They said, they would have the spot fenced in; most probably because hereafter it would be tabooed ground with them.
When the commissioners and commodore retired, the officers of the escort, who remained, were treated with tea and confections. After these thin-cooked meats, some bearing great favor to fried snakes, cut in slips so thin that the hinges of one’s jaw would become tired, long before his appetite became satisfied, were placed before them on lacquered plates. This repast produced much disappointment with the officers; they had paid two official visits to the prince-regent of Loo-Choo island—a dependency of Japan, and on one occasion were entertained by him with as many as thirteen different soups at one feast, and arguing from “man to master,” they anticipated twenty-six different kinds of soups, when they got their knees under Japanese pine. To those who were sharp-set, the entertainment of Timon of Athens could not have been much less satisfactory.
Equi-distant on the tables, were lacquered trays supported with feet, on which were placed of the same material, heavy ornamental silver “tea-pots,” containing saki, while the tea was served in thin-lacquered cups, resting—to keep the heat from the hand—on circular pieces of bamboo, resembling the dice-box of a backgammon-board. The Japan lacquer—and this being a part of the “service” of royalty, must have been a fair specimen of it, did not strike me as being incomparably superior to that of the Chinese, as I had supposed.
When the repast was concluded some Japanese amateur-artists from Yedo, who had come down from the city in the suite of the commissioners, made crayon sketches of many of the officers, and seemed to labor under the impression, that the only thing necessary to make a good American portrait was to draw a large nose, and sketch the balance of the features around it. Their essays at representing flowers—the Japonica for instance, were much better.
While on shore, I took the opportunity of making a closer inspection of the Japanese troops, who were standing in line in a neighboring field. They did not present as good an appearance as when drawn up at Gorihama, the year before. They did not seem as athletic as the Tartar troops I saw at the fort back of Canton, or at Shanghae; and it appears to me, that even if they were armed with the percussion-musket, or the modern Minie rifle, instead of the antiquated matchlock, old Dutch muskets, &c., as they are, still their unsoldierly costume, would prevent, that freedom and quickness of movement, and celerity in the use of offensive weapons, that now-a-days constitute effective troops.
In my limited reconnoissance, I took occasion to pull some of the family Camellia Japonicas, that were growing wild. One of the two-sworded gentry seeing me standing near the beach, with a bunch in my hand, desired to know the name of the flower in “American.” Upon being told he repeated the word until he got our pronunciation quite accurately, and then wrote it down in a small soft-paper book with a camel’s hair pencil, they always going provided with these, together with a small bronze ink-holder, and a handle to contain the pencil, at a short distance not unlike a small pipe, with the bowl downward. I retorted his question and requested the name of the flower in “Nip-pon,” as they called their country. He said, “T’su-bi-ki.” The “illustrious stranger”—wearied me more than himself with the number of his queries. I had to catalogue nearly every article in my wardrobe in English for him, which he invariably noted down. Upon showing him my watch, he pronounced the word “chronometer” quite plainly; and on espying when the case was opened, my name engraved on the back, he wanted to know what it was. Touching myself I pronounced my name, which he wrote down, but hardly succeeded in repeating. They can not say “l,” but call it “r.” The word “glove,” which they call “grove,” is too much for them.
In the interview, the subject of supplying us with coal was broached, which they gave a favorable response to, and promised to have some specimen, of what coal they had, ready for inspection in a short time. This contrasted strongly with the dissimulation practised by them during the stay of the “Preble” at Nangasaki in 1849. Then, those Japanese who came on board, affected the greatest curiosity in looking at the coal in the armorer’s forge; they were much surprised at the heated rocks, and one of them asked permission to take ashore a piece of the coal, which he carefully wrapped in paper.
The next day Japanese officials were aboard of the Mississippi, and held interviews there with the captain of the fleet, with regard to furnishing fresh provisions to the ships.
During the forenoon, the mayor of Uraga, and the interpreter and other officials came aboard, and accompanied the men sent to dig the grave for the man who had died, to point out the spot on shore. The burial, which took place some hours after, with the consent of the authorities who were standing by, and in the presence of thousands of the population, accompanied with the religious service of Christians, was an event of much significance, when the inscription that was put by the Japanese over the massacred Christians at Simabara is recollected: “So long as the sun shall warm the earth, let no Christian be so bold as to come to Japan; and let all know that the king of Spain himself, or the Christian’s God, or the great God of all, if he violates this command, shall pay for it with his head.” The settled oppugnation to Christianity, of more than two hundred years, was broken through with this burial from an American man-of-war.
Not having been present at the interment, I am indebted, for an account of it, to the chaplain of the Mississippi—a man of great energy of character, and who, in addition to his clerical duties on board ship, occupied himself with literary labor, and with an indomitable perseverance and love for scientific discovery, during the whole cruise, at every hour of the night, addressed himself to the task of observing the various phases of what has been called the zodiacal light; and to his midnight labor and zeal, the astronomical world may yet be indebted for a solution of the vexed question about this light.