At this very time, eight American sailors, or seven, as the Japanese account states, wrecked on the whale ship, Lawrence, June 6th, were imprisoned in Yezo; but the fact was not then known in Yedo. After seventeen months confinement, they were sent to Nagasaki and thence in October 1847, to Batavia. From one of these sailors, a Japanese samurai, or two-sworded retainer of a damiō, named Moriyama Yénosŭké, (Mr. Grove-mountain) learned to speak and read English with tolerable fluency. He acted as chief medium of communication between the Japanese and their next American visitor, Glynn; and afterwards served as interpreter in the treaty negotiations at Yokohama in 1854. At this time the Dutch trade with Japan barely paid the expenses of the factory at Déshima. The Dutch East India Company some years before had voluntarily turned over the monopoly to the Dutch government. Trade was now upon a purely sentimental basis, being kept up solely for the honor of the Dutch flag. The next step, which logically followed, was a letter from the King of Holland to the Shō-gun recommending that Japan open her ports to the trade of the world. Meanwhile, the Mikado commanded that the coasts should be strictly guarded “so as to prevent dishonor to the Divine Country.”
In September, 1848, fifteen foreign seamen, eight of them Americans, wrecked from the Ladoga, were sent in a junk from Matsumaé to Nagasaki. The Netherlands consul at Canton made notification January 27, 1849, to Captain Geisinger, a gallant officer on the Wasp in 1814, in command of the Peacock during Mr. Roberts’s first embassy, and now in command of the East India squadron, who sent Commander Glynn in the Preble, the brig once in Perry’s African squadron, and carrying fourteen guns, to their rescue. Stopping at Napa, Riu Kiu, on his way to Nagasaki, he learned from the Rev. Dr. J. Bettelheim the missionary there, of the rumors concerning “the Japanese victory over the American big ships.” The snowball of rumor in rolling to the provinces had become an avalanche of exaggeration, and Glynn at once determined to pursue “a stalwart policy.” On reaching Nagasaki, he dashed through the cordon of boats, and anchored within cannon shot of the city. He submitted to the usual red tape proceedings and evasive diplomacy for two days, and then threatened to open fire on the city unless the sailors were forthcoming. That the Japanese had already learned to respect American naval gunnery, having heard of it at Vera Cruz, the following conversation will show. The Japanese, through the Dutch, had been kept minutely informed as to the Mexican war and, in their first interview with Commander Glynn, remarked:—
“You have had a war with Mexico?”
“Yes.”
“You whipped her?”
“Yes.”
“You have taken a part of her territory?”
“Yes.”
“And you have discovered large quantities of gold in it?”
The imprisoned seamen were promptly delivered on the deck of the Preble. They stated that, when in Matsumaé, they had learned from the guards of their prison of every battle we had with the Mexicans and of every victory we had gained. The prestige of the American navy won at Vera Cruz and on the two coasts had doubtless a good influence upon the Japanese, making Glynn’s mission easier than it otherwise might have been. In his report, Commander Glynn suggested that the time for opening Japan was favorable and recommended the sending of a force to do it.