The bonzes of the orders of the blind, who may be seen walking the streets in their gauze gowns and swinging sashes, appear to be in high favor with the populace. The history of these orders is eminently Japaneish. The first is called Bussatz Sato. Centuries are nothing in Japanese chronology, and this was instituted many centuries ago, by one Senmimar, the junior son of a mikado, who was a perfect Japanese Adonis, in commemoration of his having wept himself blind for the loss of his princess, whose good looks were equal to his own. The first order had existed for ages, when the second appeared. Yoritomo, the first ziogoon, of whom I have previously spoken, while leading the mikado’s troops, defeated the rebel prince Feki, who fell, and his general Kakekigo captured. He was a general of great renown, and Yoritomo strove to gain his prisoner’s friendship, by loading him with kindness, and finally offering him his liberty. The captive Kakekigo replied: “I can love none but my slain master. I owe you gratitude; but you caused Prince Feki’s death, and never can I look upon you without wishing to kill you. My best way to avoid such ingratitude, and to reconcile my conflicting duties, is never to see you more; and thus do I insure it.” He tore out his eyes, and presented them to Yoritomo on a salver. The prince, struck with admiration, released him; and in retirement Kakekigo founded the second order of the blind, called after his former master, Feki-sado.
The ascent to the Hakodadi Yama, a hill rising some fifteen hundred feet back of the town, I made through fields of black, rich soil, not yet dry from melting snow, which, a Japanese made sign, had been breast deep. Wild grape-vines all around were budding out. The view from the top of this hill was very commanding: across the straits in Niphon, and on the mountain tops around, you saw “winter lingering,” &c. Below, long trains of pack-horses loaded with charcoal were continually traversing the plain; the fishing villages were busy with their seines; the town showed like a narrow strip of houses, and our ships and the three hundred junks in the harbor, went but a little way to fill up the great water space around. Ours were no doubt the first Anglo-Saxon feet, that ever trod this height. We found a look-out house up there, where the movement of every ship passing through the straits of Sangar into the sea of Japan is noted. It was counting the whalers passing here, and the annual increase of the number bearing the American flag, that tended to give the Japanese an exalted opinion of the greatness of our country, though one of the look-outs did not show it in a very flattering way. He desired the direction of America: I gave it to him. He then very deliberately drew a large O with the point of his sword-case on the ground, and said “Nipong;” and then drawing a small o he said “America;” this was very well when the “Lion played painter,” but not admiring his geographical scale, I permitted his “Nipong” chart to remain, and drew one for “America” many times larger, whereat he took no more interest in the comparison.
On descending from the Yama, I spied an open gate leading into a prison-yard enclosed by walls and stockade. The objections by the attendant and the police to our entrance were strong, as those we had first experienced in Simoda. They drew their finger across their throats and held up their right thumb to show the penalty they might undergo from the chief man, in not hindering our movements. But we had seen enough of them not to be deterred by any such flimsiness. We knew that, if we wished to sneeze in their territory, that they would shake their head, hold up the chief-man finger, and say “Ni! ni!” On one occasion two companions and myself had approached a small building with a sliding door, to see whether it did not contain a cage. The officers attempted to impede our progress, but on our getting close to it, they looked horrified and shuddered; two of the party, who were smoking, supposing that it was a powder-magazine, immediately threw away their cigars. On sliding aside the door, there was visible an old mat in a small vacant room. We made up our mind, in our movements to do only what we ourselves would deem proper in our own country, and so went ahead.
In the town there are fire-proof magazines, built at intervals by the government, for the storage of articles, and for the protection of things during a fire.
There are no forts in the vicinity of Hakodadi, unless a small excavated one with two direct embrasures may be so called. This place was without any garrison; you descended into it by an inclined plane made with fascines. In its rear was a very well-constructed magazine made with gabions, and covered with earth-works. The sides were supported with stockade and fascine. The merlon was sustained by flanking so clumsy that the range of the deep embrasures was quite small. Its object must have been to bring ships to, but the reduced size of the guns as shown by the houses built over them—if there were any guns underneath—each crack being carefully stopped—would do little damage.
Not far from here are some wayside praying machines, and a cemetery in which several of the poor fellows of the “Vandalia” were interred. On the occasion of their burial by their messmates, preceded by drum and fife, the streets were lined on either side by the Japanese police, who kept every avenue clear.
The Japanese had a bazar arranged at the place at which we landed, where a number of purchases were made by the squadron, and the officials saw more silver dollars than during their whole previous lifetime.
There are supposed to be twenty thousand hairy kuriles on the island of Yeso, though we did not see any of them, there being none in Hakodadi during our stay. The officers of the Southampton, which vessel was sent around to Volcano bay to make a reconnoissance, enjoyed the opportunity of taking a look at the Orsons or Esaus.
On the last day of May, after we had entertained the Japanese authorities aboard with the pleasant attitudinizing of “Jim Brown,” and songs Ethiopan, the Macedonian left for Simoda, taking a look at the Japanese penal island of Fatisisio on the way, if the weather would permit, and the Vandalia was sent to Shanghae, China, by the way of the Japan sea, to relieve the Plymouth, that had been looking after American interests during the rebel-fights at that place.
The long-expected functionaries from Yedo did not reach Hakodadi until the 1st of June. The distance they had to come, including the passage across the straits, in a direct line, was about four hundred miles, and yet they had been fifty days in making the journey. The next day after their arrival it was in contemplation to have a military function with sailors, music, marines, and artillery ashore, but continued rain prevented it.