Shades of the Past Page 4

  We found an obstruction represented only by one official boat, upon the deck, or rather roof, of which a gentleman was seated reading placidly and gently fanning himself. On our approaching nearer he looked up and waved us benignly back with his fan. If he was the port guardian, he was by no means a formidable janitor, for on our holding on our way, regardless of his signals, he fell to reading again, apparently satisfied that he had discharged his duty and was henceforth relieved from all farther responsibility on our account.

  When the purpose of Elgin's visit became known to the authorities, a battle of wits developed and every effort was made to circumvent the English strategy. The vice-governor of Nagasaki was sent along to explain that the governor had been empowered to receive the yacht on behalf of the Emperor, whilst Elgin in turn replied that he was not authorised to deliver it anywhere but in the capital. With this impasse being reached, the Japanese officials promised to report to their superiors, and were then content to partake of a repast of pâté de foie gras and champagne.

  After that session Elgin determined to proceed to Yedo via Shimoda after first doing some sightseeing around Nagasaki. In this the Mission's, greatest difficulty was that of language. Whilst many Japanese in Nagasaki had some knowledge of Dutch, there were hardly any who knew even a few words of English.

  On arrival at Shimoda they found:

  ... the Stars and Stripes waving proudly over the premises originally occupied by some recent incarnation of Buddh (sic); and Mr. Harris, the American consul, had converted the shrine of that divinity into a four-poster.

  (As Japan had been closed for over 200 years there were no buildings set apart for the reception of foreign visitors, and no others, with the exception of temples, that could be suddenly pressed into use. A week or so later when Elgin arrived in Yedo he also was accommodated in a temple, and when Yokohama was opened a year later, the Christian missionaries who were among the first arrivals were likewise, in an act of exceptional religious tolerance, provided with quarters in Buddhist temples.)

  It was said that when Elgin's ships were first sighted approaching Nagasaki Bay the news was flashed from hilltop to hilltop and reached the Shogun in Yedo before the vessels finally dropped anchor off Nagasaki town. Perhaps news of the noble lord's pâté de fâié gras and champagne luncheons had similarly reached Shimoda, because early in the morning following Elgin's arrival at Shimoda, the governor together with a large suite came on board and quickly got down to the business of telling him that he could not proceed to Yedo, and that the yacht would be received in Shimoda. When Lord Elgin positively refused to hand over the yacht in Shimoda port, or in fact anywhere other than Yedo, the governor proceeded to describe in alarming terms the dreadful fate that would await everybody concerned, including both Elgin and himself, should the vessels venture near the capital, but he interspersed so many jovial chuckles into the dreadful consequences that Elgin was reminded of Sam Weller's jovial papa, Mr. Weller Senior of Pickwickian fame. The negotiations soon reached the usual impasse, whereupon all sat down to appreciate a good English luncheon. It was then that one of the Japanese officials made a grave diplomatic blunder. He was heard to refuse Curasao and ask for Maraschino instead, whereupon the astute Lord Elgin concluded that the Japanese were not really asleep, but were in fact much wider awake than they would have him believe. He thereupon decided to leave the oysters of Kakizaki to Mr. Townsend Harris, and to proceed as soon as possible to Yedo. The latter gentleman generously placed at Lord Elgin's disposal the services of his Dutch interpreter, Mr. Heusken, an agreeable and accomplished young man who was popular both with the Japanese officials and with some of the better looking young women of the Oyster Point teahouses.

  Commodore Perry had been in Yedo Bay four years earlier, but his ships had not gone beyond Kawasaki Point. Elgin proceeded onwards up the bay despite the warnings from the Japanese that the bay ahead was a dangerous anchorage. Elgin thereupon expressed anxiety for the safety of the Japanese fleet which could be plainly seen much farther up the bay, and so proceeded onwards until he anchored close by them. The usual conferences again commenced; the same ground was again covered, and the same impasses again reached, followed once more by the now famous pâté de foie gras and champagne luncheons.

  It was at one of these meetings that the Japanese disclosed their curiosity as to the whereabouts of Kincardine. They had noted that letters delivered to them had been signed Elgin and Kincardine, but as they had thus far only met Elgin, they had assumed that Kincardine must be the senior envoy and was holding himself aloof, and that he had probably been peeping through the keyhole to make sure that Elgin was carrying out his duties in a proper manner. The mystery was soon cleared up, but that there should be no one spying on Elgin struck them as peculiar.

  Among the Japanese commissioners was a daimyo who was losing no opportunity to study English, and who carried about on his person his vocabulary of English words written on a stock of fans, which he hid in the copious folds of his dress. For each occasion, whether it might be a pâté de foie gras and champagne luncheon, a cigar and liqueur tete-a-tete, or a conference, he produced from deep recesses in his costume the appropriate fan with which to fan himself, and upon which was written a vocabulary fitting for the occasion.

  The Japanese authorities were required to provide suitable accommodation on shore for the English Mission, and this they had done in a remarkably short space of time by furnishing a temple with exact replicas of U.S. Consul Harris' furniture, of which they had sketches and exact measurements among their records. Townsend Harris then began to wonder what other details of his personal affairs and records had been secretly compiled by the Japanese. Lord Elgin and his suite proceeded ashore to the strains of Rule Britannia.

  At the end of their first day in Yedo, they found that the Shogun had thoughtfully delivered to their place of residence a banquet in Japanese style, which was, for some, their first introduction to a Japanese meal. Lord Elgin's private secretary gives us a description of it, and went on record with the following gratuitous advice to those Englishmen who might come after him to Japan:

  ....we all plunged into the red lacker cups on the right, or at the invitation of another, dashed recklessly at what seemed to be pickled slugs on the left.... There was a good deal of sea-weed about it, and we each had a capital broiled fish. With that, and an immense bowl of rice, it was impossible to starve; but my curiosity triumphed over my discretion, and I tasted of every pickle and condiment, and each animal and vegetable delicacy, of every variety of colour, consistence, and flavour; an experience from which I would recommend any future visitor to Japan to abstain.

  Once Elgin had established himself on shore in Yedo, he found all procrastination came to an end, and, if anything, there was a desire to speed him on to a conclusion of his task. The six Japanese commissioners quickly got down to the work of drafting the first treaty with Great Britain, and it was while this work was proceeding that a discovery of some importance was made, because it probably brought to an end the pâté de foie gras luncheons. To quote the private secretary once more:—

  The dish that they most highly appreciate is ham.

  They also indulged freely in champagne.

  This explains the hope that was facetiously expressed by the Daimyo of Higo, a man with a hearty appetite and a wit of most of the parties, that the first Treaty with England would not taste too much of ham and champagne!

  In those days the only foreigners known to many of the inhabitants of Yedo were the Chinese, and not unnaturally Lord Elgin and his party were often mistaken for Chinese, and sometimes for Chinese hawkers. On one occasion, when contrary to the advice of the commissioners they had gone sightseeing, without a sufficiently large body of Japanese policemen to inspire awe among the populace, they were hooted, pelted, and greeted with the cry of "Chinamen! Chinamen! Have you anything to sell?"—a happening for which the commissioners never ceased to apologise.

  The Englishmen had purchased "mountains of lac
ker, pyramids of china,.... Japanese costumes....swords....quantities of books" and all manner of other souvenirs. Owing to the absence of any established rate of exchange, payment for these purchases was a complicated process that had to be done at a special clearing house where all the coin tendered by the Englishmen had to be weighed and balanced against the equivalent weight of Japanese coin. It is related that during the process of that complicated operation "an amount of tea and tobacco was consumed sufficient to fumigate a seventy-four and float her afterwards."

  The treaty was finally drawn up in Dutch, Japanese and English, and required no fewer than eighty-four signatures. Some of the Japanese commissioners "painted away at the hieroglyphics which represented their names with evident care and anxiety," but the jovial Daimyo of Higo "dashed away with his brush, perfectly regardless of the opinion which people in England might form of his handwriting"

  The most important part of the day's work was yet to come, namely delivery of the yacht which was still flying the British ensign.

  The commissioners arrived on board the yacht to receive delivery even before the appointed hour had arrived. According to the Elgin's secretary:

  We found the commissioners had preceded us and were now strutting about the deck of the yacht in all the bravery of their most resplendent costumes.

  The jovial Daimyo of Higo was donned in a striking and imposing costume "literally covered with crabs, some of them large enough to be an honour to an English sea-port. The dress was of embroidered silk, with these crabs in raised silver, standing out in high relief."

  Lord Elgin addressed the commissioners, formally handing over to them on behalf of Her Majesty Queen Victoria the yacht as a token of friendship and goodwill. Down came the English ensign, and up went the Japanese flag. The Japanese forts fired a salute of twenty-one guns, much to the wonderment of the Japanese populace who beheld their forts conducting themselves in such an unwarlike and a totally unprecedented manner. The yacht got slowly under way, commanded by a Japanese captain, worked by Japanese engineers and manned by Japanese sailors. The occasion is now of historical interest, because it is the first recorded instance of Japan becoming the owner of a British vessel.

  One final ham and champagne dinner was put on for the Japanese commissioners, and then:

  At last the moment of parting arrived, and, amid many demonstrations of affection on both sides, they bade us a final farewell....

  Then rockets shot into the heavens and blue-lights burned at the yard-arms, and the rows of forts were illuminated in quick reply....

  The 26th of August, 1858, will be a date long to be remembered... At will be an epoch in the history of the Japanese empire....an event pregnant with important results to commerce and civilization.

  As the Shoguns in Yedo had already usurped the power of the emperors for over two hundred years, it is not surprising that the Shogun in power at the time usurped the yacht, and then in order that he might not be reminded of the fact he had the name "Emperor," which the English had given to the yacht, painted out and the new name "Yeddo" painted in. When the Shogun's interest in the yacht waned, he traded it for thirty thousand gold koban to the Daimyo of Hizen.

  The Bishop of Hongkong who had previously seen the yacht in all its glory at Hongkong, before it was presented to Japan, next saw it in Nagasaki harbour after it had been in use about eighteen months. He had tea on board with the captain, and later described its condition:

  The aft cabin was in a wretched state of dirt and confusion. Luggage and trunks lay scattered about. The green velvet chairs were now soiled and shabby; the glittering frames of satinwood were covered with accumulated filth; the gilt ornaments were indented and bruised; the panels of plated mirror were tarnished and dull. All looked slovenly and uncomfortable—a perfect contrast to the elegant little craft which attracted so many admiring visitors at Hongkong. The aft cabin was appropriated to some local official whose baggage and numerous trunks lay scattered about the unswept and carpetless cabin floor.

  The Emperor of Japan was in those days confined to his palace at Miako, as Kyoto was then known, where the largest body of water at his disposal was the fish-pond in the palace garden. It is unlikely therefore that he had any interest in yachting, or indeed had ever heard of that sport, a point which probably occurred to Lord Elgin's private secretary when he wrote at the time:

  It was a cruel satire upon this unhappy potentate to present him with a yacht; one might as well request the Pope's acceptance of a wife.

  VORTICAL

  ATOMS

  AND

  CRACKPOTS

  His eyes were like two revolving lights in two dark caverns.

  LAURENCE OLIPHANT

  In 1828 an English grocer emigrated to America with his wife and a five year old son. On arrival in Utica, in New York state, he added auctioneering to his old line of groceries. His son displayed no particular aptitude for groceries or auctioneering, although in the end he did prove to be a better business man than his father, if the making of money is the criterion.

  Thomas Lake Harris, for that was the boy's name, developed into a Christian mystic, a poet of sorts, an unorthodox pastor, a spiritualist, a bogus prophet, and ultimately the patriarchal leader of one of the strangest religious communities in America, a country which has produced so many crank religions.

  To quote from the Dictionary of American Biography:

  ....Meanwhile Harris himself was struggling "interiorly" to break through the natural forces of evil by rallying the "vortical atoms," and attain his spiritual "two-in-oneness," or union with his heavenly counterpart. This he finally achieved in 1894 when he became technically immortal. The "crisis" or end of the natural world was now eagerly expected and Harris predicted its imminence repeatedly.

  As we all know, Harris proved to be entirely wrong in his forecast about the end of the world, but he was not wrong, as we shall shortly see, in his faith in his own ability to make a quick dollar, or in his faith in rising land values in the United States.

  According to the Dictionary of American Biography, Harris was, among other things, a Universalist, an Harmonic philosophist, a Swedenborgianist, and a Theosocialist. If any of my readers do not know what all that means, it only proves that Harris was right in believing that many people live in the outer darkness!

  Harris became one of the minor American poets, and it is to be imagined that many major poets must have envied the unusual ease with which he turned out his verse, even if they did not admire his poetry, because according to the aforementioned authority:

  About 1850 he had begun to go into trances and while in communication with the celestial world to compose long mystic poems on the theme of celestial love.

  At the age of sixty-eight years he married for the third time, on this occasion his not unattractive secretary—and then spent most of the remaining fifteen years of his life writing theological works, many of which still clutter up the topmost shelves of old secondhand bookshops.

  Curiously enough there is a link between this unusual prophet and poet, and feudal Japan of nearly one hundred years ago.

  As related in the previous chapter, when the Earl of Elgin headed the British Mission to Japan in 1858 it was his secretary, the same brilliant Mr. Laurence Oliphant, who said in a few words a great deal about Queen Victoria's gift of a yacht to the Emperor of Japan by remarking:

  It was a cruel satire upon this unhappy potentate to present him with a yacht; one might as well request the Pope's acceptance of a wife.

  Oliphant was then already very much a man of the world. He had travelled to the farthermost trouble spots in Europe and Asia, done some worthwhile espionage in Russia, attended a Nepalese durbar clad in a plaid shooting jacket and an old felt hat (and other clothing of course), served as The Times correspondent in the Crimea War, and as private secretary to the Governor of Canada and the British Ambassador in Washington. Indeed it was in Washington, D.C., that he experienced for the first time the sight of a young woman in bl
oomers, a spectacle sufficiently naughty for him to record in one of his travel books.

  He saw something of the Indian Mutiny and was in the British expedition to China.

  Oliphant's visit to Japan produced a pleasant book of travel and a desire on his part to see more of this unusual country which had been forced to open its doors, and then like some gaily coloured fantastic butterfly was about to emerge into the world outside. And so it was that Laurence Oliphant returned to Japan as first secretary to the British Legation in Tokyo, or Yedo as it was known then, with the prospect of being in charge of British interests at the Court of the Tycoon during the projected visit of his chief to Europe.

  Laurence Oliphant, ever the keen observer, has left us a description of Yedo of those early days, noted by him when he and his party passed along the streets on their way to the British Legation. Describing a public bathhouse, he wrote:

  Bathers of both sexes regardless of the fact that they had nothing on but soap, or the Japanese equivalent of it, crowded the door to watch us pass.