Ch 20 - The Awakening of Japan

The Black Ships

American expansionists looked toward the Pacific and Asia. Commodore Matthew Calbraith Perry commanded an expedition to Japan in July 1853 that sought protection for shipwrecked sailors and attempted to secure a treaty to open Japanese for trade. The stunned Japanese accepted the American proposals, but played for time while they considered their response.

In the mid-19th century, it took an average of 159 days for ships to sail between New York and San Francisco and the increasing volume of transcontinental trade moving between America's Atlantic and Pacific coasts put a real strain on shipping. Responding to the growing demands of the California trade, Yankee ingenuity and skilled New England shipwrights produced a contemporary transportation miracle - the clipper ship. With its 225 foot, narrow-beamed hull, the 1783-ton clipper ship was built for speed rather than cargo capacity. On August 31, 1851, Captain Josiah P. Creesy proved the value of the ship's graceful design by sailing the clipper Flying Cloud into San Francisco Bay 89 days and 21 hours after departing New York Harbor. Captain Creesy's remarkable voyage made American commerce in Eastern Asia more than just a possibility;  it proved the potential for transpacific trade with the Orient. The clipper ship soon became the key element in the newly burgeoning tea trade between New York and China.

The Japanese islands sit along the great circle route between San Francisco and the Chinese treaty ports at Shanghai and Canton, only three or four weeks sailing time by clipper ship from California;  much nearer in fact than Europe. As pioneers settled the last western frontiers of North America, expansionists looked even further west - toward the Pacific and Asia. Already steeped in the tradition of serving American commercial interests, a number of American naval officers developed a philosophy for action in the Pacific that had far-reaching results in the latter half of the nineteenth century.

Alfred Thayer Mahan, perhaps the most celebrated naval historian of his era, believed that America had to turn its "eyes outward, instead of inward only, to seek the welfare of the country." The author of numerous articles and books, including his landmark work, The Influence of Sea Power Upon History, 1660-1783, Mahan was widely regarded as a brilliant naval theorist. He firmly believed that America's survival depended on maintaining a strong navy, a navy that would require island possessions to serve as naval bases. He cautioned that the Pacific could "be entered and controlled only by a vigorous contest." Ironically, this Naval Academy graduate and renowned champion of the United States Navy actually hated the sea. While an active duty naval officer, Alfred Mahan lived in near constant fear of ocean storms and colliding ships.

Navy Commodore Matthew Calbraith Perry, a sailor from Providence, Rhode Island, long a chief center in the China trade, stood at the forefront of those espousing Mahan's philosophy. A strong advocate of extending America's power through its navy, Perry believed that with the development of national power came the desire to use it. Well aware of England's colonial expansion and its powerful presence in East Asia, Perry saw a potential counter to British growth in Japan.

"Fortunately, the Japanese and many other islands of the Pacific are still left untouched by this unconscionable government ...No time should be lost adopting active measures to secure a sufficient number of ports of refuge (in Japan)."

In May 1851, Captain John H. Aulick, who had been reassigned from the South Atlantic Command to the East India Squadron, informed Secretary of State Daniel Webster that returning 17 shipwrecked Japanese sailors then in San Francisco might create an opportunity for "opening commercial relations with Japan." Secretary Webster gave Captain Aulick command of America's first mission to Japan. Captain James Glynn, an officer with extensive Asian experience, gave President Millard Fillmore and Captain Aulick sound advice regarding the upcoming expeditio. He urged them to stay focused on obtaining a trade treaty;  don't get into arguments over the treatment of American sailors;  do not treat the Japanese "as being less civilized than ourselves." Captain Glynn intelligently suggested they not ask for exclusive trade privileges, but to open Japan for access by all nations. Such an approach would give the British reason to support, rather than oppose, American demands. On May 10, 1851, Secretary Webster drafted a letter from President Fillmore to the Japanese Emperor that asked for "friendship and commerce," as well as help for ships sailing the northern route to China.

In one of history's fateful turns, Captain Aulick's unseemly past behavior caught up with him before the Japanese mission sailed. Late in 1850, Aulick had become embroiled in a diplomatic faux pas with a Brazilian minister traveling aboard a U.S. Navy ship to Rio de Janeiro. Driven by a strong determination to open Japan, President Fillmore felt it necessary to assign the mission to a more imposing character. The duty was given to Commodore Matthew Calbraith Perry, who initially protested the appointment, preferring instead to command the U.S. Mediterranean Squadron. Nevertheless, Perry took to his new assignment with characteristic seriousness and prepared thoroughly. He not only held extensive conversations with leading businessmen interested in Asian trade, but demanded a greater degree of latitude in his orders from Secretary of State Webster. Just before his death in October 1852, Webster granted Perry "full and discretionary powers," including the use of force if the Japanese tried to treat him as they had the unfortunate Commodore James Biddle. Still, Commodore Perry was to "be held to a strict responsibility" for his actions.

In his third annual address to a joint session of Congress on December 6, 1852, President Millard Fillmore stated,

"A direct and rapidly increasing intercourse has sprung up with eastern Asia. ... The application of steam to the general purposes of navigation is becoming daily more common, and makes it desirable to obtain fuel and other necessary supplies at convenient points on the route between Asia and our Pacific shores. ... the general prosperity of our States on the Pacific requires that an attempt should be made to open the opposite regions of Asia to a mutually beneficial intercourse.

"It is obvious that this attempt could be made by no power to so great advantage as by the United States, whose constitutional system excludes every idea of distant colonial dependencies. I have accordingly been led to order an appropriate naval force to Japan, under the command of a discreet and intelligent officer of the highest rank known to our service. He is instructed to endeavor to obtain from the Government of that country some relaxation of the inhospitable and antisocial system which it has pursued for about two centuries. ... to remonstrate in the strongest language against the cruel treatment to which our shipwrecked mariners have often been subjected and to insist that they shall be treated with humanity. ...[and to] ... give that Government the amplest assurances that the ... expedition is friendly and peaceful.

The Japanese treated shipwrecked mariners, particularly whalers, as felons. There had been charges that sailors had been forced to deface and denounce their religious beliefs and that some had died in captivity under harsh conditions of imprisonment. As an American plenipotentiary, Perry carried instructions drafted by Secretary of War Charles M. Conrad, then acting Secretary of State. Perry's instructions, drafted in line with a number of his own suggestions, charged him with obtaining protection for shipwrecked sailors, permission to secure supplies, especially coal, and securing an agreement to open one or more Japanese ports for trade.

Finally, Perry was instructed to stress the duty of protecting American sailors in the seas around Japan and to make the significance of the Pacific Coast's recent settlement known to the Japanese:  the acquisition and rapid settlement of a vast territory on the Pacific, the discovery of gold in California and the rapid communication established across the Isthmus of Panama. Perry's instructions stated,

"Recent events ...have practically brought the countries of the east in closer proximity to our own;  although the consequences of these events have scarcely begun to be felt, the intercourse between them has already greatly increased and no limits can be assigned to its future extension."

Because the president had no power to declare war, Commodore Matthew Perry's mission was, by definition at least, peaceful and his instructions reflected that fact. He was enjoined not to use force except to protect the ships and crews under his command, or to respond to an act of personal violence against himself or one of his crew. Perry was further directed to "submit with patience and forbearance to acts of discourtesy to which he may be subjected." At the same time, he was ordered do nothing that would "...compromise his own dignity, or that of the country." Thus empowered, the four-ship American squadron departed Norfolk, Virginia, in February 1853. Taking the long traditional route to Asia, the ships sailed southeastward across the Atlantic, rounded Africa's Cape of Good Hope, crossed the Indian Ocean and, after stops in Singapore, Hong Kong and Shanghai, arrived in Japanese waters in early summer.

While at Hong Kong, Perry acquired a valuable addition to his staff in the person of Samuel Wells Williams, who was assigned the duty of acting as interpreter for the mission to Japan. Williams, who served with the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, the principal Protestant body then operating in China, spoke mandarin Chinese and had learned some Japanese from the seven castaways during his ill-fated journey to Japan aboard the whaler Morrison in 1837. He felt complimented by Perry's invitation to be flag interpreter and somewhat embarrassed because of his limited knowledge of Japanese, but he consented to serve. As an amateur botanist, Williams proved more valuable a scientist than as an interpreter, since communication with the Japanese would have been difficult except for the efforts of the Dutch-Japanese interpreter Antón Portman whom Perry engaged at Shanghai.

Much of the early preparation for the Japan Expedition was accomplished with help from the offices of Holland's King Willem III, then the only nation having extensive contacts with the Japanese. By the time Perry's small squadron reached Japanese waters, the Dutch had already warned the shogunate the Americans were coming. The Japanese were quite surprised that Perry appeared so soon. On July 8, 1853, Commodore Perry's squadron of black-hulled warships slowly made its into the Uraga Strait along the mountainous coast of the Miura Peninsula, which separates Sagami Bay and Edo Bay [modern Tokyo Bay]. Sailing in line­ahead formation were Perry's flagship, the side-wheel steamer U.S.S. Susquehanna, the war-sloops U.S.S. Saratoga and U.S.S. Plymouth, and the side-wheel steamer U.S.S. Mississippi. The slow motion parade of sinister-looking warships, each carrying bigger guns that any the Japanese had ever seen, had its weapons constantly trained against Japanese coastal shore batteries as it proceeded into waters forbidden to foreign ships. Warning gongs echoed across the hills of the Miura Peninsula as the squadron entered the bay at Uraga. The daimyo Kayama Yezaimon, Lord of Uraga, his samurai and their retainers watched from the battlements in silent awe as the four ships approached under a brilliant sun.

Thousands of onlookers watched Perry's "Black Ships" in utter amazement from the beaches and rocky shoreline. Thick black clouds of smoke poured from the funnels of the Susquehanna and Mississippi as they towed Plymouth and Saratoga with sails furled into Uraga Bay against a strong headwind. The heavy smoke started rumors among the Japanese watching the procession that the ships were on fire and needed help. With bright signal flags fluttering from their halyards and their huge paddle wheels churning the water, the two heavy frigates came about and dropped anchor with their gun decks aimed toward the shore defenses. The Plymouth and Saratoga anchored downwind in support.

Through his telescope, Lord Kayama carefully studied the strange ships riding at anchor well out of range of his small shore batteries. Each ship flew the same flag from its stern:  a large banner with red and white stripes and white stars on a patch of bright blue. Of greater interest was the fact that the ships were heavily armed with cannon much more formidable than his own. Lord Kayama quickly ordered one of his samurai to ride to the castle of Abe Masahiro, head of the Governing Council under Shogun Tokugawa Ieyoshi, and inform the shogun that a foreign fleet had blocked the entrance to Edo Bay.

As soon as the American ships dropped anchor, dozens of Japanese galleys, each brightly decorated with flags and banners, rowed out to approach the American ships. The Japanese seemed quite anxious to move alongside Perry's flagship. Commodore Perry had already concluded that Japan's traditional policy of isolation would be altered only if superior naval forces were displayed and if Japanese officials were approached with a "resolute attitude." A gruff, diplomatically seasoned naval officer known to his crews as "Old Bruin," Commodore Perry issued orders that no Japanese boat was permitted to come alongside any ship in the squadron. No Japanese citizen other than a responsible officer with an interpreter who spoke Dutch was to board any ship other than the Susquehanna. Except for Samuel Williams, no one in the expedition spoke even a little Japanese. Furthermore, Holland was the only Western nation with a commercial presence in Japan at the time and Dutch was the only Western language spoken reasonably well among the Japanese.

When a local official finally arrived on board the Susquehanna with a Dutch interpreter in tow, Perry refused to meet him. Lieutenant Contee, Perry's aide, informed the official that since the Commodore held the highest rank in the United States Navy, he would meet only with a Japanese official of equal status who held specific authority from the Shogun. Furthermore, Contee said, the Commodore carried a letter from the President of the United States to the Emperor of Japan and intended to deliver it personally to an official representative of the Japanese Government. The surprise reception aboard Perry's flagship suddenly changed to near horror when the official learned that President Fillmore's letter was addressed to the Emperor as if Emperor Komei were the equal of any foreigner. The United States Government was woefully ignorant about Japan and even less informed about the correct protocol to use in addressing a "god-emperor." Taking a cue from documents on file with the Dutch embassy in Washington, President Millard Fillmore produced what amounted to a childish address to Japanese Emperor Komei, referring to him as "The August Sovereign of Japan."

Two days later, Lord Kayama Yezaimon stepped aboard the Susquehanna to inform the ship's commanding officer, Captain Franklin Buchanan, that the Americans would have to take their letter to Nagasaki. Perry refused to meet with Lord Kayama and refused all orders to leave. In a written message, Perry said, "The Commodore will not go to Nagasaki. ... If this friendly letter of the President to the Emperor is not received and duly replied to, he will consider his country insulted, and will not hold himself accountable for the consequences." The Commodore also sent word that if the Japanese government did not delegate a suitable person to receive the documents in his possession, he would deliver them by force if necessary. Japanese defenses were inadequate to resist the American naval force and Perry's implied threat to use force caused a great deal of consternation in the Japanese Government. After a few days of diplomatic sparring, the stunned bakufu decided the best course of action was to play for time by sending two of the Shogun's representatives to solemnly receive the "American Admiral" and his party and accept the documents.

A light morning fog lifted on the morning of July 14, 1853, to give the Americans their first hint that preparations were underway ashore. Large ornamental cloth screens had been tightly stretched between wooden posts giving the effect, from a distance at least, of fine paneling. Each of the cloth panels was emblazoned with the Emperor's imperial arms, alternating with the large scarlet flower, symbol of the Tokugawa clan. Numerous brightly colored flags and streamers hung from the screens, behind which stood throngs of Japanese soldiers in formal military dress.

Crewmen aboard the American ships had been busy since before dawn making all necessary preparations for the day's events. The boilers on the Susquehanna and Mississippi came to life early that morning, getting up the steam needed to move the heavy ships into a position where their guns could command the beach. Shortly before 8 o'clock in the morning, the two ships raised their anchors and began a slow journey down Uraga Bay. The Plymouth and Saratoga, unable to proceed in the dead calm, remained at anchor. The nearly 300 officers, sailors and marines chosen to accompany Commodore Perry ashore busily made ready for the occasion, polishing their brass and leather and donning their finest dress uniforms.

As the two steam frigates moved along the shoreline, they were accompanied by six Japanese galleys rowing close in to shore. Two of the vessels flew large striped flags, indicating the presence of some high officials on board. The other ships flew a bright red banner and each carried a complement of military guards. After rounding the headland that separated the former anchorage from the proposed meeting place, the Americans got their first look at a luxuriant valley that descended from the distant mountains and opened at the head of the bay. The small village of Kurihama [near modern Yokosuka] was little more than a random collection of small houses with peaked roofs that stretched from the richly forested hills surrounding the valley down to the beach. Over one hundred Japanese boats tied up in parallel lines stretched along the beach north of the village, each flying a red flag at its stern.

A nearly continuous wall of brightly painted cloth screens emblazoned with the Emperor's coat of arms stretched along the shoreline at the head of the bay. At the center of this panoramic display stood nine tall military standards adorned with broad scarlet pennants that swept the ground with their flowing length. Surrounding the standards, a great crescent of smaller, brightly-colored banners fluttered in the morning breeze under a bright summer sun. Regiments of samurai stood in fixed order on the beach in front of this colorful display in an impressive show of Japanese military force. Back from the beach stood a freshly decorated building recently constructed for the historic reception. Its three pyramidal-shaped roofs rose well above the surrounding houses and large panels of striped cloth, which extended into screens on either side, covered the front of the building.

Two Japanese boats approached the American frigates as they steamed into the opening of the bay. After the Susquehanna and Mississippi dropped their anchors, the two boats rowed alongside Commodore Perry's flagship. Lord Kayama Yezaimon, his two interpreters and two other officers in attendance were met at the Susquehanna's gangway and escorted to seats on the ship's quarterdeck. The men were dressed in full official costume;  rich silk brocade trimmed with yellow velvet and elaborately embroidered with gold lace designs. Signal pennants were hoisted aboard the Susquehanna and within thirty minutes no less than fifteen launches and small cutters arrived alongside carrying the officers, sailors and marines detailed for the day's ceremonies. Captain Franklin Buchanan led the small American flotilla to the beach aboard the Susquehanna's barge flanked by the two Japanese boats carrying the governor and vice-governor of Uraga, who were to act as masters of ceremony. The rest of the ships followed close behind as the Marine Bands aboard the cutters enlivened the occasion with music.

With the naval flotilla only halfway to the beach, the guns aboard the Susquehanna thundered to life in a thirteen-gun salute to announce the departure of Commodore Perry, who stepped aboard his barge and was rowed toward the small wharf built from bags of sand and straw near the center of the curved beach. Captain Franklin Buchanan's barge was the first ship to reach the wharf. Captain Buchanan stepped ashore without ceremony followed almost immediately by Marine Corps Major Zeilin, becoming the first Americans to set foot on Japanese soil. The rest of the boats docked close behind to disembark their respective loads.

One hundred Marines formed two ranks of fifty men each facing the sea on either side of the wharf. One hundred sailors joined the formation, followed by the two naval bands. The tall, physically robust detachment stood in stark contrast to the much smaller Japanese samurai. The Japanese had assembled over 5,000 well-armed samurai in a line that extended around the entire beach, from Kurihama village to the base of the steep hill on the northern extent of the bay, with an immense number of warriors crowded behind and under cover of cloth screens which stretched along the rear of the reception area. Infantry, archers and lancers stood in the front ranks, while large groups of mounted cavalry could be seen formed to their rear, as if held in reserve. Hundreds of local villagers crowded behind this colorful display, wildly curious to see these strange visitors from another world.

Guided by Lord Kayama and his interpreter, Commodore Perry led the American procession up the beach toward the reception building with great pomp and ceremony, followed by his marine and navy escort and a navy band playing Hail Columbia!. Walking just ahead of the Commodore, two sharply-dressed young boys carried a scarlet cloth envelope bearing the boxes which contained Perry's credentials and President Fillmore's letter to the Emperor. The beautifully written folio-sized documents were bound in blue silk velvet and each seal, attached by silk and gold cords with gold tassels, was encased in a gold container six inches in diameter and three inches deep. Each document, together with its seal, rested inside a polished rosewood box about one foot long with fittings, hinges and locks of pure gold. Perry also included a letter of his own to the emperor , written just one day before arriving in Japan.

Commodore Perry approached the entrance to the reception house in the company of two tall, heavily-armed and physically impressive black sailors who acted as his personal bodyguards. In front of the entrance to the house were two small brass cannon, probably European-made. On either side stood a group of Japanese guards armed with old-fashioned flintlock rifles and muskets mounting bayonets. Entering with his entourage, Perry proceeded along a strip of red carpet that stretched through the canopy-covered antechamber toward the building's interior where the formal reception would take place. The commodore and his entourage entered a reception room handsomely adorned with rich silk and fine cotton and enclosed on three sides by large panels displaying the imperial coat of arms embroidered in white.

Two Japanese dignitaries stood and bowed as the Americans entered the room and were escorted to armchairs provided for them on the right side of the room. The interpreters introduced the two elderly officials as Toda Izu no kami, Toda, Prince of Izu, and Ido Iwami no kami, Ido, Prince of Iwami. Dressed in elaborate tunics of the finest silk brocade decorated with elaborate gold and silver embroidery, the two men were the very picture of statuesque formality. Neither man spoke a word throughout the meeting and rose from their seats only at the Commodore's entrance and exit, when they made a formal bow. Lord Kayama and his interpreters took their positions at the upper end of the room, sitting on their heels next to a large, scarlet lacquered box, where they acted as the masters of ceremony for the reception.

The room remained stunningly silent for some minutes after everyone was seated. Not a word was said on either side. Lord Kayama's interpreter broke the silence by asking the American interpreter if the documents were ready for delivery, adding that Prince Toda was ready to receive them. He indicated the documents were to be placed on the scarlet box at the upper end of the room. Commodore Perry beckoned the two boys waiting in the antechamber to come forward with the rosewood boxes holding the American documents. Perry's two black bodyguards, walking immediately behind the boys, marched up to the scarlet box, opened each of the rosewood boxes and carefully took out the letters. After displaying the writing and seals to Prince Toda and Prince Ido, they carefully placed the documents on the lid of the scarlet box and received a formal receipt for them, all in complete silence. Whether the letters had been intended for Emperor Komei, the de jure ruler of Japan, or Shogun Tokugawa Iesada, its de facto ruler, Perry never realized the truth of this meeting;  the "Emperor" he had been dealing with was in reality a representative of the Shogun.

Lord Kayama and his interpreter bowed, rose from their knees, placed the documents inside the scarlet box and secured the fastenings. They informed Commodore Perry that nothing more was to be done and walked out of the reception room, bowing to those on either side as they passed. As Perry left the room, Prince Toda and Prince Ido, arose and stood in total silence until the Americans left. As the small flotilla was being made ready to row the Americans back to their ships, Perry and his delegation waited near the entrance to the reception building. Lord Kayama and his interpreter returned briefly to ask the Americans what they were waiting for and were told, "For the Commodore's boat." Nothing more was said. The entire reception took less than thirty minutes and was conducted with the greatest formality and courtesy on both sides.

The ceremonious American procession reformed as before and marched down to the makeshift wharf. They were rowed back to their ships, followed by the two Japanese boats carrying Lord Kayama and his attendants and accompanied by lively music from both naval bands. Commodore Perry suspected the Japanese might try to stall negotiations until the squadron ran short of provisions, which would force the Americans to sail away in disgrace. As the four ships made ready to depart Kurihama and Japan, Perry declared he was departing for China and promised to return the following spring for the Japanese reply. When asked whether he would bring all four of his "Black Ships" with him, Perry reportedly growled:  "Probably more."

Commodore Perry departed Japan, leaving the Japanese to ponder their future.