“Such,” says Kämpfer, “is the state of island,” and such it continues to the present time, “to that small compass of which the Dutch have been confined by the Japanese; and as things now stand, we must be so far satisfied with it, there being no hopes that we shall ever be better accommodated or allowed more liberty by so jealous and circumspect a nation.
“Our ships, which put into this harbor once a year, after they have been thoroughly visited by the Japanese, and proper lists taken of all the goods on board, have leave to put their men on shore on this island to refresh them, and to keep them there so long as they lie in the harbor, commonly two or three months. After they have left, the director of our trade remains in the island, with a small number of people, about seven, or more if he thinks proper.
“Thus we live all the year round little better than prisoners, confined within the compass of a small island, under the perpetual and narrow inspection of our keepers. ’Tis true, indeed, we are now and then allowed a small escape, an indulgence which, without flattering ourselves, we can by no means suppose to be an effect of their love and friendship, for as much as it is never granted to us, unless it be to pay our respects to some great men, or for some other business, necessary on our side and advantageous for the natives. Nor doth the coming out, even upon these occasions, give us any greater liberty than we enjoy on our island, as will appear, first, by the great expenses of our journeys and visits, great or small, and by the number of guards and inspectors who constantly attend us, as if we were traitors and professed enemies of the empire.
“After the departure of our ships, the director of our trade, or resident of the Dutch East India Company, sets out with a numerous retinue on his journey to court, to pay his respects to the emperor, and to make the usual yearly presents. This journey must be made once a year, not only by the Dutch, but, also, by all the lords and princes of the empire, as being the emperor’s vassals; and our own embassy is looked upon at court as an homage paid by the Dutch nation to the emperor of Japan, as their sovereign lord. Upon the journey we are not allowed any more liberty than even close prisoners could reasonably claim. We are not suffered to speak to anybody, not even (except by special leave) to the domestics and servants of the inns we lodge at. As soon as we come to an inn, we are without delay carried up stairs, if possible, or into the back apartments, which have no other view but into the yard, which, for a still greater security, and to prevent any thoughts of escape, is immediately shut and nailed up. Our retinue, which, by special command from the governors of Nagasaki, guards, attends, and assists us in our journey, is composed of the interpreters and cooks of our island, and of a good number of soldiers, servants, bailiffs, porters, and people, to look after our horses and baggage, which must be conveyed on horseback. All these people, though never so needless, must be maintained at the Company’s expense[137].
“Before our departure from Yedo, and again upon our return, our director, with one of his Company, goes to make a visit to the governors of Nagasaki, at their palace, to return them thanks for their protection, and to entreat its continuance. Nor can even this visit be made without a numerous train of guards, soldiers, and bailiffs.
“Another visit, and with the like numerous attendants, is made to the governors by the director of our factory, upon the first day of the eighth month, when it is usual to make them a present.
“The few Dutchmen who remain at Deshima, after the departure of our ships, are permitted, once or twice a year, to take a walk into the adjacent country, and in particular to view the temples about Nagasaki. This liberty is oftener granted to physicians and surgeons, under pretence of going to search for medicinal plants. However, this pleasure-walk falls very expensive to us, for it must be made in company of the Otona, of our ordinary interpreters, and other officers in our service, who are handsomely treated by us at dinner in one of the temples of the Ikkoshiu sect; and we must on this occasion, and that with seeming satisfaction, see our purses strongly squeezed for the most common civilities shown us by the priests of the temple.
“The festival of Suwa, the patron and protector of Nagasaki, falling just upon the time when our ships lie in the harbor, our people are permitted to view this solemnity from a scaffold, built at our own expense, our presence being not only thought honorable to their saint, but, what they value still more, advantageous to many of his worshippers. It may be easily imagined that our train and guards are not lessened upon such an occasion. On the contrary, we are examined and searched four times before we come to the place where the solemnity is performed, and again afterwards counted over several times with all possible accuracy, when we go up and when we come down from the scaffold, as if it were possible for some of us to slip out between their fingers. Our slaves, also, are admitted to this solemnity, as black Dutchmen[138].
“Another day is set apart for viewing five large boats, which must be constantly kept, at the expense of the Dutch East India Company, for the lading and unlading of our ships. This is again done with the same numerous retinue, which we afterwards entertain at dinner at one of the neighboring temples.
“When one of our ships hath been discovered to steer towards the harbor, some of the Dutchmen left at Deshima are sent to meet her, in order to get a preliminary information of her cargo and condition. The Company for this purpose constantly keeps two barges in readiness, large enough to take on board our usual numerous attendants, which, together with the commissioners for victualling, attending in their own barge, with a good provision of victuals and refreshments, must be treated in the neighboring small island, Iwō-ga-shima, the whole again at the Company’s expense.