Shore leave
courtesy of the Honolulu Academy of Arts, gift of Mrs. Walter F. Dillingham in memory of Alice Perry Grew, 1960
EIGHT DAYS AFTER HIS CRUISE toward Edo the Commodore decided to visit Shimoda and Hakodate, the ports specified in the treaty.
Shimoda
The fishing village of Shimoda was isolated from the rest of the country by rugged mountains. From the Japanese point of view Shimoda was a perfect port for foreigners, just because it was remote. It was situated at the tip of the fifty-mile-long peninsula of Izu. At one time Japanese rulers used Izu for exiles.
Even though Shimoda was hemmed in by mountains, Perry was pleased because its harbor had room for many ships. The Commodore was overwhelmed by its beauty and he was very impressed by the streets’ cleanliness. The village had gutters and sewers. Most Western cities did not have adequate sanitation systems at that time. “Shimoda shows an advanced state of civilization,” Perry wrote, “much beyond our own boasted progress in the attention to…cleanliness and healthfulness.”1
The Commodore and his officers were housed in a Buddhist temple that they furnished with chairs, tables, and bedding from the ships. Enlisted men, who occupied a nearby temple, sat and slept on spotlessly clean floor mats laid out for them by Japanese servants.
Landing at Shimoda, June 8, 1854
reproduced from the collections of the Library of Congress
Everyone looked forward to touring this exotic port, but the villagers were terrified. They were afraid of the long-nosed aliens. Some frightened families hid in lofts that had been built for storage. Others guarded their cattle because they had heard that the Americans ate beef. (Until the 1870s Japanese used cattle solely for farm work; never for food.) Streets were deserted, shops were closed, and spies followed the men from the Black Ships.
The Commodore complained to officials. After that, crowds filled the streets, stores opened, and households entertained the foreigners. Some women, overcoming their distaste for moustaches and curly hair, accompanied sailors.
The temple grounds at Shimoda
reproduced from the collections of the Library of Congress
The Americans quickly became objects of friendly curiosity. People in the street were not shy about fingering their buttons, uniforms, and weapons. The navy men were accustomed to the people’s insatiable curiosity and enjoyed this familiarity. Lieutenant Preble was sensational. He astonished villagers by taking out his false teeth. Preble was amused by their reaction. He was sure his audience believed that all Americans could carry their teeth in their pockets.
Visiting a bathhouse proved to be a popular pastime. The Americans gawked at men and women who bathed together “in a state of absolute nudity, not having even Adam’s fig leaf and all scrubbing themselves assiduously without regard to each other.”2 Perry was shocked that they were “unconscious of their nudity.”3 The Japanese were amused and incredulous that a common bathhouse could prove to be such an attraction.
The mayor of Shimoda arranged for a daily bazaar so that the Americans could conveniently shop for souvenirs. Preble griped because the Commodore and his officers had first pick and grabbed the best.
Some sailors became drunk and disorderly. Two of them pulled out the spigot from a barrel of saki, let it flow on the shop’s floor, then scuffled with the shopkeeper. The Commodore was furious, and the culprits were locked up on board ship.
The people of Shimoda made numerous sketches of the foreigners. As a result, we have many illustrations depicting sailors’ behavior—and misbehavior. The Americans took photographs of Japanese women. (Town officials allowed geisha girls to pose for them.) The villagers were fascinated. They had never seen cameras before, and they called the photographs “magic mirrors.” However, a few superstitious people decided that a camera was a “murder box” intended to capture a person’s image in order to destroy that person. They urged everyone to avoid the daguerreotype equipment.
One day the Americans saw two Japanese prisoners who were locked in a small cage. They were being carried through the streets of Shimoda. (Yoshida Shoin, the famous revolutionary mentioned in Chapter 8, and another liberal named Kaneko, were these caged prisoners.) The men had tried to defect to the United States. They had rowed out to the Mississippi and asked to be taken to America. The Commodore refused because the men had not received their government’s permission. He would not chance infuriating officials who had finally agreed to cooperate with him, but Perry was appalled at their plight. The men were subsequently imprisoned in Edo.4
Dancing
courtesy of the Honolulu Academy of Arts, gift of Mrs. Walter F. Dillingham in memory of Alice Perry Grew, 1960
About to be photographed
courtesy of the Honolulu Academy of Arts, gift of Mrs. Walter F. Dillingham in memory of Alice Perry Grew, 1960
Botanist Morrow and his best friend, interpreter Williams, took advantage of the ruling that allowed them to wander out of town. They took daily walks in the hills gathering plants, visiting blacksmiths, observing silkworm cultivation, watching weavers, and chatting with farmers. They marveled at Japan’s advanced irrigation system, and they swapped American seeds for Japanese seeds that they brought back to the United States.
Hakodate
Hakodate was a distant outpost in Hokkaido, the northern-most of the four main islands of Japan. It was bleak, sparsely inhabited, and valuable primarily for whalers. Because of the treaty they could come here when they needed provisions or a stopover for repairs and recreation.
As soon as the Americans landed alarm gongs were sounded and villagers were driven indoors by policemen armed with whips. The daimyo of the district forbade citizens to even look at the Black Ships, and the Americans were ordered to leave at once.
The Commodore presented a copy of the Treaty of Kanagawa to officials, who claimed that they knew nothing about the agreement. They were not telling the truth, because their daimyo had been told by the Shogun’s messengers to expect the Americans. They were also warned that the foreigners loved liquor and ladies, and might be unruly.
With the help of seventy of the daimyo’s retainers, women and children were shipped out of Hakodate and housed with relatives and friends in the mountains. Women who remained home were ordered to hide behind locked doors. Official instructions even specified that they must paste cracks in houses with paper so that sailors would not be able to peek in at them. (Lieutenant Preble noticed tiny holes torn in paper windows, probably made by females curious to see the strange looking foreigners.) In addition, there were orders to hide saki and close all shops.
The conference room at Hakodate
reproduced from the collections of the Library of Congress
Hunting
courtesy of the Honolulu Academy of Arts, gift of Mrs. Walter F. Dillingham in memory of Alice Perry Grew, 1960
Once again, the Commodore complained, and the officials complied with Perry’s demand that shops be opened and his men be greeted in a friendly manner. However, no women were allowed to mingle with the Americans.
Despite the absence of female company, the men had a great time. Hunting game proved to be fun, and the fishing was fantastic. The Japanese enjoyed a brisk business when the foreigners jammed into shops to buy plaided silks, pots, and assorted souvenirs. Some sailors brought dogs and cats back to the ships.
Fishing at Hakodate
courtesy of the Honolulu Academy of Arts, gift of Mrs. Walter F. Dillingham in memory of Alice Perry Grew, 1960
Merchants were shocked because the Americans entered shops with their boots on and were boisterous. “Going thus to a store to buy is not the way of a samurai.”5
After the port was surveyed Perry entertained the daimyo’s retainers with supper and a minstrel show aboard ship. The audience seemed amused, and Perry was satisfied that he was leaving them with a good impression.
As a parting gift the daimyo’s men presented the Commodore with a block of granite for the Washington Monument. They wished to honor the name of the only American “king” they had ever heard of.