In August, 1856, the United States steamer “San Jacinto” arrived at Shimoda, bringing out Mr. Townsend Harris, a merchant of New York, who had been appointed consul to Japan; as it proved, a very judicious selection.[130] A temple near Shimoda was appointed for his residence, but the whole circumstances of his reception showed that the Japanese dislike of foreign intercourse remained almost as strong as ever. They had taken some steps, however, to execute the treaty. They had built a stone landing-place at Shimoda, had brought from the mines several hundred tons of coal, and had constructed a large bazaar for the sale to Americans of Japanese wares. But it was very apparent that Shimoda, from its situation, never could become a place of much trade; while the necessity of purchasing through a Japanese official, and the low valuation put upon American wares, as estimated in Japanese currency, were additional obstacles.

Mr. Harris obtained the confidence and good-will of the authorities at Shimoda, and succeeded in negotiating a convention, in March, 1857, by which American citizens were allowed to reside at Shimoda and Hakodate, and to trade at Nagasaki; and by which, also, it was hoped that the currency difficulty would be arranged.

Mr. Harris had brought with him a letter from the president to the emperor, and at length, after much importunity and more than a year’s delay, he obtained leave to visit Yedo to deliver it. Yedo is only eighty miles by land from Shimoda, yet it took several days to make the journey. Mr. Harris thus describes it in a private letter:

“My train numbered some one hundred and fifty persons, composed of guards, norimono-bearers, cooks, grooms, shoe-bearers, cane-bearers, fan-bearers, and last, though not least, a standard-bearer, and a large number of coolies. I had permitted the Japanese to arrange and dress my train according to their ideas of propriety, and what they conceived was due to the representative of the President of the United States. My guards, each with two swords in the girdle, and clad in new silk dresses, as they swelled and strutted about, appeared to be ‘mightily uplifted in heart,’ while they and my bearers and grooms appeared to have ‘broken out’ all over their bodies with ‘spread eagles,’ as the back, breast, and sleeves of their dresses were sprinkled over with the arms of the United States, which were neatly painted on them. I performed the journey partly on horseback, and partly in a norimono, which is the Japanese name for a palanquin. The Japanese norimono will compare with the celebrated iron cage of Cardinal Balue, of France, in which the poor inmate could neither lie down nor stand up. In the norimono the Japanese kneel and place their feet close together, and then sit on their heels; if they wish to repose themselves they lean forward, and rest the chin on their knees, so that the body and limbs form three horizontal folds or piles—a position that they assume and keep without annoyance, from long practice, and from the great flexibility of their joints, but which is almost unattainable by a white man, and is absolutely unendurable.

“I had a norimono made for me seven feet long, and in it I put a mattress and pillows, which made it as comfortable as the Indian palanquin; but, of all modes of travelling, the camel, the elephant, and the palanquin are the most fatiguing.

“On the morning of Monday, November 23, I started for a long-desired goal of my wishes. Four lads, with small bamboo wands, led the way as harbingers, and their voices sounded quite musical as they sang the Japanese words for ‘clear the way,’ ‘kneel down,’ ‘kneel down.’ Next followed a Japanese officer on horseback; then came a large lackered tablet, bearing my name and titles in immense Chinese characters. The tablet was supported by two huge transparent lanterns, which bore similar inscriptions. (When I halted, the tablet was placed in front of my quarters, and at night the lanterns were lighted and hung up over the gate of the house.) Next came a stout fellow, bearing the ‘stars and stripes,’ with four guards. I followed, either on horseback or in my norimono, and attended by twelve guards. Next came Mr. Heusken (interpreter), and after him I do not recollect how it was arranged, except that the Vice-Governor brought up the rear.

“For the first three days the route was entangled among mountains and deep ravines which compose the peninsula of Izu. The path (for it could not be called a road) was narrow, and in many places was formed by cutting steps in the Fufa rocks, and sometimes it ran over mountains four thousand feet high. On the second day I reached Ugashima, and as I emerged from the gorges of Mount Amagi, I had my first view of ‘Fuji Yama,’ the ‘Matchless Mountain.’ The sight was grand beyond description. As viewed from the Temple at Ugashima, the mountain appears to be entirely isolated, and shoots up in a glorious and perfect cone ten thousand feet high! It was covered with snow, and in a bright sunlight it glittered like frosted silver. For the two nights I was lodged in temples, which had been fitted up for me with new bath-rooms, and other appliances to contribute to my comfort. On the evening of the third day I arrived at Mishima, a town on the Tōkaidō or great East Road, and from thence to Yedo the road is wide and good. On the great roads of Japan nice buildings are erected for the accommodation of the princes when they travel; they are called Honjin; and it was in them that I had my quarters for the remainder of my journey.

“My first day’s journey on the Tō-kai-dō was over the mountain Hakone, which is some four thousand and five hundred feet high.

Townsend Harris