From Loo-Choo the fleet sailed to the Bonin Islands, where a harbor suitable for a depot of supplies was found and land purchased by the Commodore for government buildings should his choice of a harbor be confirmed. The ships returned to Loo-Choo and proceeded directly to the bay of Yeddo in Japan.
For two hundred years that important nation had preserved its exclusiveness, and had become almost as unknown to the western nations as an undiscovered continent. Almost every commercial nation had, from time to time, attempted to secure a footing for a trading-post or a harbor for their vessels. In every instance they had failed, and the civilized world had looked upon Japan as a country sealed beyond hope of breaking. It must have appeared to every one, including the Commodore himself, that the undertaking in which he was engaged was an especially difficult enterprise. How could he hope to succeed where England, Portugal, Holland. Italy, and Russia had failed? Yet he succeeded beyond anything the most hopeful had desired; and as a result of his expedition a mighty nation and a fertile country were restored to the family of nations.
PAGAN TEMPLE IN JAPAN.
In that expedition Mr. Taylor took a deep interest, and with great enthusiasm wrote letters to his home descriptive of Fusiyama, Kanagawa, and the scenery around Yeddo Bay. During the long delay made by the Japanese authorities, to impress the Commodore with their dignity, he was engaged with eye and ear and pen in the service of his country. With the devotion which marked all his undertakings, he noted everything which passed under his scrutiny, in order that the Commodore might be informed of every detail. Many travellers pass months at Yokohama, Yeddo, or Nagasaki, making investigations and excursions, without finding out so much of interest as Mr. Taylor saw in a single day. That natural and acquired acuteness of observation, and that intuitive comprehension which made him so conspicuous, are well worthy of study and imitation by all persons who are ambitious to excel, whether engaged in travelling or in any other occupation. So thoroughly had he disciplined himself in the inspection of all that surrounded him, that when he arrived in Japan, the ships, the junks, the people, their dress, their customs, their food, their language, the vegetation, the minerals, the animals, the birds, the landscapes, the bays, the promontories, the islands, the sea, the air, the sky, the stars, the wind, and the sunlight were each and all full of suggestions and valuable instruction. One could not follow Mr. Taylor’s writings in the closing years of his travels without becoming conscious of ignorance and short-sightedness concerning the commonest things of life. It made his readers feel, oftentimes, when they discovered how much he had noticed which they had overlooked, as boys feel when a playmate finds a silver dollar on a spot which they have passed and repassed without his good luck; with the difference, however, that Mr. Taylor’s good fortune in that respect was the result of hard work and careful culture.
After the close of the preliminary negotiations, and a hasty survey of the bay of Yeddo, the fleet departed on a short cruise to Hong-Kong, in order to give the Japanese emperor time to think over the propositions which the United States Government had made to His Majesty.
The trip to Hong-Kong, by way of the Loo-Choo Islands, was without special incident, and on the 7th of August he was again in the harbor which he had left in the month of March. For five months he had known what it was to be a seaman and made subject to the strict orders enforced on a man-of-war. It was a fresh experience. He was keen enough to recognize the merits and failings of naval discipline and naval drill. He saw that many improvements might be made in both. He thought, furthermore, that the ships themselves might be constructed on a better pattern. Hence, he boldly recommended changes whenever the opportunity came for him to speak through the public prints. He had become much attached to the officers and men of his ship, and parted with them at Hong-Kong with the feeling of sincere regret. He had made it his home on board, and had been so contented and so kindly treated that he felt the pangs of homesickness as he shook hands and went over the side for the last time.
Although he had enlisted for the usual term of years, as the laws of the United States recognized no shorter term, and ran the risk of being held to the terms of his enlistment, yet there was a tacit understanding between him and the Commodore that he should be allowed to resign when the fleet returned to Macao. Consequently, when he presented at that port his resignation it was promptly accepted, and he became a civilian again. He found it nearly as awkward to be a landsman as he had at first to be a sailor, and often looked out on the great men-of-war, as they lay at anchor, with an indescribable yearning to tread their decks.
From Macao, he made excursions to Hong-Kong and Canton, finding friends that pleased him, and an aristocratic snobbery that displeased him, in the former place, and dirt, vice, and cheating in the latter, which made him further disgusted with the Chinese race. In Canton, as elsewhere, he spoke of them in strong terms, condemning their importation into the United States in a manner to please the bitterest hater of the Celestials to be found on our Pacific coast. Yet he visited the shops, practised the “pigeon English,” visited the great temple of Honan, tested the power of opium by smoking it himself, made a tour into the country, interested himself in the foreign factories and the local government, and made the acquaintance of many enterprising foreign merchants. But his aversion to the Chinese, doubtless intensified by the wild rumors of barbarous deeds then current on account of the rebellion, was not abated after he had seen the great metropolis; and he frankly admitted, in his letters and in his book, that he was glad to get away from China.
At Canton, he took passage in a sailing vessel bound for New York, that being his most direct and least expensive route. He was anxious to return to the United States, because he had been absent over two years, and because of some financial arrangements which he considered it important to make. He felt also that if he should publish a record of his travels in the form of books, the sooner they were issued after his letters had appeared in the “Tribune,” the better for the publishers and for himself. In this undertaking, however, he was much delayed.