Passing Uraga and Perry Island, the seven vessels dropped anchor at the “American anchorage,” not far from Yokosŭka, and off the place, called in Japanese, Koshiba-ōki, (the little grass-plot looking out on the far-off sea). Unconsciously, the officers paced their decks beneath the shadows of the twin tombs of Will Adams[[30]] and his Japanese wife. From these very headlands, over which the English exile, who may have seen Shakespeare, took his evening walks two centuries before, he had perhaps seen in prophetic vision a sight like that below. Happy coincidence, that Perry’s right-hand man, bore the same name, Adams!
The Commodore, still mysterious, invisible and inapproachable, had again out-flanked the wily orientals with their own weapons and turned their heavy guns against themselves. The mystery-play was kept up in a style that exceeded that of either Kiōto or Yedo. The naval generalissimo remained in the Forbidden Interior of his cabin as if behind bamboo curtains.
Kurokawa Kahéi and his two interpreters were received with excruciating politeness by Captain Adams, assisted by Messrs. Portman, Williams and the Commodore’s son. In the delegation of official men were ométsŭkes (censors, spies, or checks). They were well named “eye-appliers” (to holes usually made noiselessly, with moistened finger-tips, in the paper screens of the houses). These suggested that the negotiations should be carried on at Kamakura or Uraga. The programme, foreshadowed by answers to their questions, was an American advance on that of the previous year. The “Admiral” would do no such thing. It must be near the present safe anchorage. All the visits, conferences, discussions, presents, bonbons, oranges and confectionery, offers of eggs, fish and vegetables were impotent to alter the fiat of the Invisible Power in the cabin.
For the benefit of the United States and the civilized world, the survey boats were out daily making a map of the bottom of the bay. No boats’ crews were allowed to land. No native was in any way injured in person or property. The visitors received on deck refreshments, champagne, sugared brandy, port, and politeness in profusion. Of information concerning the invisible “Admiral’s” policy, save as His Invisibility allowed it, they received not a word.
Several days passed, the broad pennant was transferred to the Powhatan, and the Japanese were given till the 21st to make up their mind. Captain Adams was sent to Uraga to inspect the proposed place of anchorage and the new building specially erected for treaty making. There an incident occurred which afforded more fun to the Japanese than to the Americans. On the 22nd of February, while the guns of the Vandalia were thundering a salute in honor of Washington, Captain Adams with fourteen officers and attendants entered the hall of reception. Here were gathered a formidable array of dignitaries, retainers and no less than fifty soldiers. A suspicion of treachery dawned on the Americans. Was this to be a Golownin affair?
Perhaps Izawa, the daimiō in charge, was fond of a joke. He was, in fact, in favor of foreign intercourse, but more noted for high living and gay sport than for dignity of word and mien, withal a lively and popular fellow. After preliminaries, Captain Adams handed him the Commodore’s note. Preparatory to getting out his goggle-spectacles, he folded his fan with a tremendous snap. Instantly the American officers, alarmed and exchanging glances of concern, clapped hands to their revolvers.[[31]] All the more amused, Izawa most deliberately and with scarcely repressed inward merriment, adjusted his goggles, and read the document, finding it in good form. After decoctions of rice and tea, with sponge-cake and oranges (saké, cha, Castile, mikan) had been served, the officers returned to their ships at the 8th hour, Japanese time, the Hour of the Ape, or about 3 p. m. Captain Adams decided that the building proposed for treaty negotiations was “for simple talk large enough, but not for the display of presents.” Kurihama was then suggested. “No, the Admiral would rather go to Yedo,” “No, no! better go to Kanagawa, but do please, please go back to Uraga.” This was the simple substance of much conversation carried on in Japanese, Dutch and English, with not a little consumption of paper, India ink and Chinese characters. The one word of Perry and Adams was “Yedo.” The tongues of the interpreters, or in Japanese “word-passers,” grew weary, yet no backward step was taken.
Meanwhile on the 24th, Perry moved his six ships forward up the bay ten miles, anchoring beyond Kanagawa. From the masthead the huge temple-gables, castle-towers, fire-lookouts and pagodas of Yedo could be easily seen, and the bells of Shiba and Asakŭsa heard. More exactly, the anchorage was off Dai-shi-ga-wara, a lovely meadow (wara) named in honor of Japan’s greatest medieval scholar, His Most Exalted Reverence, Kōbō, the inventor of the Japanese alphabets, learned in Chinese and Sanskrit, and the Philo of the Land of the Gods. He it was who absorbed Shintō, the primitive religion, into the gorgeous cult of India, and made Buddhism triumphant in all Japan. Another happy omen for Perry!
The Vandalia’s boats now brought Hayashi’s letter to Perry, and Yezaémon the interpreter came nominally to plead again for Uraga, but in reality to accede to the American’s decision. A fleet messenger, riding hard on relays of horses, had brought the word to Hayashi—“If the American ships come to Yedo, it will be a national disgrace. Stop them, and make the treaty at Kanagawa.”[[32]] As Perry writes, “Finding the Commodore immovable in his purpose, the pretended ultimatum of the Japanese commissioners was suddenly abandoned, and a place directly opposite, at Yokohama, was suggested as the place of treaty.”
The official buildings and enclosure finished March 9th, were erected on the ground now covered by the British consulate, the Custom House, the American Union Church and two streets of the modern city. They were guarded on the left, right and rear by the retainers of Ogasawara, a high officer in the Tycoon’s palace, and Sanada, lord of Shinano; and on the water side by Matsudaira, lord of Sagami, who had hundreds of boats and their crews under his command. Against possible fanatics and assassins who might attack, or the too progressive spirits who would communicate with the Americans, the precautions were not wholly in vain. The writer has heard Japanese officers, now in high rank but enlightened, declare that they had devoted themselves by vows to the gods to kill Perry, the arch-defiler of the Holy Country. Only the strong hand of government held them back.
Further than this, the Japanese did not know how the Americans would act. Either from malice intent or provoked by unruly natives, they might begin war. Every one of Sanada’s and Ogasawara’s retainers were sworn[[33]] to ask no quarter, but fight till the last man was slain.