_Golownin’s Capture and Imprisonment—Conveyance to Hakodate—Reception
and Imprisonment—Interpreters—Interviews with the Governor—Removal
to Matsumae—A Pupil in Russian—A Japanese Astronomer—Escape
and Recapture—Treatment afterwards—Savans from Yedo—Japanese
Science—European News—A Japanese Free-thinker—Soldiers—Their
Amusements—Thoughts on a Wedding—Domestic Arrangements—New
Year—Return of the “Diana”—Reprisals—A Japanese Merchant and his
Female Friend—Second Return of the “Diana”—Third Return of the
“Diana”—Interview on Shore—Surrender of the Prisoners—Japanese
Notification—The Merchant at Home—The Merchant Class in Japan—A.D.
1811-1813._
While, by the first interruption of the communication with Batavia,
Doeff and his companions were secluded at Deshima, a number of
Europeans were held in a still stricter imprisonment at the northern
extremity of Japan.
Captain Golownin, an educated and intelligent Russian naval officer,
had been commissioned in 1811, as commander of the sloop of war
“Diana,” to survey the southern Kurile Islands, in which group the
Russians include both Sakhalin and Yezo, which they reckon as the
twenty-first and twenty-second Kuriles. At the southern extremity of
Etorofu, the nineteenth Kurile, some Japanese were first met with (July
13). Soon after, Golownin, with two officers, four men, and a Kurile
interpreter, having landed at a bay on the southern end of Kunashiri,
the twentieth Kurile, where the Japanese had a settlement and a
garrison, they were invited into the fort, and made prisoners. Thence
they were taken, partly by water and partly by land, to Hakodate,
already mentioned as a Japanese town at the southern extremity of Yezo.
This journey occupied four weeks, in which, by Golownin’s calculation,
they travelled between six and seven hundred miles. The Japanese stated
it at two hundred and fifty-five of their leagues. The route followed
was along the east coast of the island. Every two miles or so there was
a populous village, from all of which extensive fisheries were carried
on, evidently the great business of the inhabitants. The fish were
caught in great nets, hundreds at once. The best were of the salmon
species, but every kind of marine animal was eaten. The gathering of
sea-weeds for food (of the kind called by the Russians sea-cabbage[91])
also constituted a considerable branch of industry. In the northern
villages the inhabitants were principally native Kuriles, with a few
Japanese officers. Within a hundred and twenty or thirty miles of
Hakodate the villages were inhabited entirely by Japanese, and were
much larger and handsomer than those further north, having gardens and
orchards, and distinguished by their scrupulous neatness; but even
the Kurile inhabitants of Yezo were far superior in civilization and
comforts to those of the more northern islands belonging to Russia.
When first seized by the Japanese, the Russians were bound with cords,
some about the thickness of a finger, and others still smaller. They
were all tied exactly alike (according to the prescribed method for
binding those arrested on criminal charges), the cords for each having
the same number of knots and nooses, and all at equal distances. There
were loops round their breasts and necks; their elbows were drawn
almost into contact behind their backs, and their hands were firmly
bound together. From these fastenings proceeded a long cord, the end of
which was held by a Japanese, who, on the slightest attempt to escape,
had only to pull it to make the elbows come in contact with great
pain, and so to tighten the noose about the neck as almost to produce
strangulation. Their legs were also tied together above the ankles
and above the knees. Thus tied, they were conveyed all the way to
Hakodate, having the choice, for the land part of the route, either to
be carried in a rude sort of palanquin formed of planks, on which they
were obliged to lie flat, or to walk, which they generally preferred
as less irksome, and for which purpose the cords about the ankles were
removed, and those above the knees loosened. The cords were drawn so
tight as to be very painful, and even after a while to cut into the
flesh; yet, though in all other respects the Japanese seemed inclined
to consult the comfort of the prisoners, they would not, for the first
six or seven days, be induced to loosen them, of which the chief reason
turned out to be their apprehension lest the prisoners might commit
suicide,—that being the Japanese resource under such extremities.
Their escort consisted of from one hundred and fifty to two hundred
men. Two Japanese guides from the neighboring villages, changed at each
new district, led the way, bearing handsomely-carved staves. Then came
three soldiers, then Captain Golownin with a soldier on one side, and
on the other an attendant with a twig to drive off the gnats, which
were troublesome, and against which his bound hands prevented him from
defending himself. Behind came an officer holding the ends of the ropes
by which the prisoner was bound, then a party of Kuriles, bearing his
kago, followed by another relief party. The other captives followed,
one by one, escorted in the same manner. Finally came three soldiers,
and a number of Japanese and Kurile servants carrying provisions and
baggage. Each of the escort had a wooden tablet, suspended from his
girdle, on which were inscribed his duties and which prisoner he was
stationed with; and the commanding officer had a corresponding list of
the whole. The prisoners had the same fare with the escort,—three meals
a day, generally of rice boiled to a thick gruel, two pieces of pickled
radish[92] for seasoning, soup made of radishes or various wild roots
and herbs, a kind of macaroni, and a piece of broiled or boiled fish.
Sometimes they had stewed mushrooms, and each a hard-boiled egg. Their
general drink was very indifferent tea, without sugar, and sometimes
sake. Their conductors frequently stopped at the villages to rest, or
to drink tea and smoke tobacco, and they also rested for an hour after
dinner. They halted for the night an hour or two before sunset, usually
in a village with a small garrison. They were always conducted first to
the front of the house of the officer in command, and were seated on
benches covered with mats, when the officer came out to inspect them.
They were then taken to a neat house (which generally, when they first
entered, was hung round with striped cotton cloth), and were placed
together in one apartment, the ends of their ropes being fastened to
iron hooks in the walls. Their boots and stockings were pulled off, and
their feet bathed in warm water with salt in it. For bedding they had
the Japanese mattresses—quilts with a thick wadding—folded double.
After the first six or seven days their bonds were loosened, and they
got on more comfortably. The Japanese took the greatest care of their
health, not allowing them to wet their feet, carrying them across the
shallowest streams, and furnishing them with quilted Japanese gowns as
a protection against the rain.
At Hakodate they were received by a great crowd, among which were
several persons with silk dresses mounted on horses with rich
caparisons. “Both sides of the road,” says Golownin, “were crowded
with spectators, yet every one behaved with the utmost decorum. I
particularly marked their countenances, and never once observed a
malicious look, or any sign of hatred towards us, and none showed the
least disposition to insult us by mockery or derision.” He had observed
the same thing in the villages through which they had passed, where
the prisoners had received, as they did afterwards, from numerous
individuals, many touching instances of commiseration and sympathy.
At Hakodate they were confined in a prison, a high wooden enclosure,
or fence, surrounded by an earthen wall somewhat lower (and on their
first approach to it hung with striped cloth),[93] inside of which
was a long, barn-like building. Within this building were a number of
small apartments, scarcely six feet square, formed of thick spars, and
exactly like cages, in which the prisoners were shut up, the passages
and other spaces being occupied by the guards.[94] Their food was much
worse than on the journey (probably Japanese prison fare), boiled rice,
soup of warm water and grated radish, a handful of finely chopped young
onions with boiled beans, and one or two pickled cucumbers or radishes.
Instead of the radish-soup, puddings of bean-meal and rancid fish-oil
were sometimes served. Very rarely they had half a fish, with soy.
Their drink was warm water, and occasionally bad tea.
Their only means of communicating with the Japanese had been, at first,
a Kurile, one of the prisoners, who knew a little Russian, and probably
about as much Japanese. At Hakodate another interpreter presented
himself; but he, a man of fifty, naturally stupid, and knowing nothing
of any European language, except a little Russian, did not prove much
better.
The second day they were conducted through the streets, by a guard of
soldiers (the prisoners each with a rope round his waist held by a
Japanese), to a fort or castle, which was surrounded by palisades and
an earthen wall. Within was a court-yard, in the centre of which was
a brass cannon on a badly constructed carriage. From this court-yard
Golownin, and after him each of the others, was conducted through a
wide gate, which was immediately shut behind them, into a large hall,
of which half had a pavement of small stones. The other half had a
floor, or platform, raised three feet from the ground, and covered with
curiously wrought mats. The hall was fifty or sixty feet long, of equal
breadth, eighteen feet high, and divided by movable screens, neatly
painted, from other adjoining rooms. There were two or three apertures
for windows, with paper instead of glass, admitting an obscure, gloomy
light. The governor sat on the floor, in the middle of the elevated
platform, with two secretaries behind him. On his left (the Japanese
place of honor) was the next in command; on his right, another officer;
on each side of these, other officers of inferior rank. They all sat,
in the Japanese fashion, with their legs folded under them, two paces
apart, clothed in black dresses, their short swords in their girdles,
and their longer ones lying at their left. The new interpreter sat on
the edge of the raised floor, and an inferior officer at each of the
corners of it. On the walls hung irons for securing prisoners, ropes,
and various instruments of punishment. The Russian prisoners stood in
front of the raised floor, the officers in a line, the sailors behind.
The Kurile was seated on the stones. They underwent a very rigorous
and particular examination, all their answers being written down. The
questions related to their birthplaces; their families (and, when it
appeared that they came from different towns, how it happened that they
served on board the same ship); the burden and force of their vessel;
their own rank; their object; their route since leaving St. Petersburg,
which they were required to trace on a chart, etc., etc.
[Illustration: FARM SCENES: COOLIES CARRYING BAMBOO BASKETS; AN
IRRIGATION SYSTEM]
Among other things, the governor remarked that Laxman (who had visited
Japan in 1792) wore a long tail, and covered his hair with flour;
whereas the prisoners (powder and queues having gone out of fashion in
the interval) had their hair cut short and unpowdered; and he asked
if some change of religion had not taken place in Russia. When told
that in Russia there was no connection between religion and the way of
wearing the hair, the Japanese laughed, but expressed great surprise
that there should not be some express law on the subject.
Eighteen days after, they had a second examination, on which occasion a
letter, of which the Japanese wanted an interpretation, was delivered
to them. It had been sent on shore from their ship along with
their baggage, expressing a determination to return to Okhotsk for
reinforcements, and never to quit the coast of Japan till the prisoners
were rescued. This reexamination was continued for two days, in which
many inquiries were made about Chwostoff, and the papers he had left
behind him, one of which was produced. The Russian prisoners tried to
make out that the proceedings of Chwostoff were without authority from
the Russian government; but the Japanese evidently did not believe them.
After one or two more examinations they were removed to Matsumae,
guarded, as before, by soldiers, but furnished with horses, as well as
litters or kagos, on or in which the prisoners were suffered to ride,
the Japanese, however, retaining the end of a rope by which they were
still bound. Near Matsumae, they were shown a battery on a high hill,
intended to command the harbor, but ill adapted for that purpose. It
had three or four small brass pieces on carriages, and an eighteen
or a twenty-four pounder, apparently cast in Europe, mounted on
cross-beams. Matsumae lies on a large, open bay, with four fathoms of
water at low tide; and according to the Japanese, is about two hundred
of their leagues (five hundred miles) from Yedo, the land journey
thither, after crossing the strait, being made in twenty-three days.
A great crowd collected to see them enter the town, ropes being
stretched to keep the passage clear. Confined in a prison much like
the one at Hakodate, and close under the ramparts of the castle, they
underwent many more examinations before the bugiō or governor of
Matsumae. The inquisitiveness of their questioners, which seemed to be
without limit, proved a great torment to the Russians, and sometimes
put them into a passion; but the Japanese were always cool and polite.
They were supplied with much better food than at Hakodate, fresh and
salt fish, boiled or fried in poppy-seed oil, with soy for sauce. They
also had, after the winter set in, flesh of sea-dogs, hares, and bears,
and attempts were even made to cook for them after the Russian fashion.
For drink they had tea[95] and warm sake. They were furnished with warm
clothing, both their own which had been sent on shore for them; and
Japanese gowns, for which a tailor was sent to measure them; and, when
the weather grew colder, they had hearths, after the Japanese fashion,
made in the prison, at a little distance from each cage, on which
charcoal fires were kept burning. A physician visited them daily to
look after their health, and if anything serious appeared he brought a
consulting physician with him.
After a time their accommodations were much improved. Instead of
confinement in separate cages, they had a large room covered with mats.
A young man, named Murakami Teisuke, was now brought to them, whom
they were requested to instruct in the Russian language. He proved a
very apt scholar, made rapid progress, soon learned to speak, read and
write Russian, and became very much attached to his instructors. They
in their turn learned something of Japanese; but it was forbidden to
teach them the written characters. Teisuke was exceedingly anxious to
collect statistical information concerning Russia. A Japanese man of
science, who had an English sextant, a compass, a case of mathematical
instruments, etc., also paid them a visit. He knew how to find the
latitude by observing the sun’s altitude at noon, using in his
calculations some tables obtained, as he said, from a Dutch book; and
he was exceedingly anxious to gain additional information, especially
how to find the longitude by lunar observations; but this, for want of
the necessary tables, the Russians, much to his disgust, were unable to
teach him.
The first snow fell about the middle of October, but soon melted. The
winter set in about the middle of November, with deep snows, which
lasted till April.
As the spring opened they were permitted to take walks and excursions
in the vicinity of the town, and were presently removed to a house,
composed of three apartments, separated by screens; but were still
closely watched and guarded. Tired of this confinement, of which
they could see no end, the Russians succeeded in getting out of their
prison, and in gaining the mountains back of the town, whence they
descended to the coast, hoping to find some means of escape by sea.
But, after seven days’ wanderings and many sufferings, they were
retaken. The island was found to be composed of steep hills, separated
by precipitous ravines, with hardly any plain land, except near the
coast. The interior was uninhabited, except by wood-cutters employed in
getting timber and preparing charcoal.
When retaken, they were confined in the common jail of the town, but
their accommodations were not worse than they had been in the other two
prisons. No ill-will was shown towards them by any of the officials,
not even by those whose lives their flight had endangered. The soldier
who was held the most responsible for their escape, and who had been
degraded in consequence to the rank of a common servant, showed even
more alacrity than before in their behalf. In a month or two they
were removed back to their former prison, where they were visited the
next spring (1814) by an interpreter of the Dutch language, who had
come from Yedo, and by a learned man from the same capital, who was
indeed no other than Doeff’s astronomer Globius, but known to the
Russians as Adachi Sanai, both of whom desired to learn the Russian
language. The interpreter, a young man of twenty-seven, and already
acquainted with the rules of European grammar, made rapid progress,
and soon applied himself to translate a treatise on vaccination, which
one of the returned Japanese had brought from Russia. The astronomer
busied himself in translating a Russian school treatise on arithmetic,
carried to Japan by one of the Japanese conveyed home by Laxman in
1792. It was evident that he had considerable mathematical learning.
The Japanese astronomers had made decided progress since the time of
Thunberg. Globius understood the Copernican system, was acquainted
with the orbit and satellites of Uranus; knew the nature and doctrine
of sines and tangents, and was familiar with the difference between
the old and new styles. He assured Golownin that the Japanese could
calculate eclipses with much exactness, and he studied with great
attention a treatise on physics, which, with other books, had been sent
on shore in Golownin’s chest.
Nor were the Japanese without knowledge of the revolutions going on
in Europe. The Russians were told the news of the taking of Moscow,
brought to Nagasaki by the two vessels from Batavia; but with
patriotism equal to that shown by Doeff, in relation to the annexation
of Holland to France, they refused to believe it. The Japanese gave
them a minute description of these two vessels, and also of the
elephant which they brought, his length, height, thickness, food, etc.
A native of Sumatra, the keeper of the elephant, was described with
equal minuteness.
Teisuke, whom Golownin had taught Russian, was found to be quite a
free-thinker, both in politics and religion; but, in general, the
Japanese seemed very superstitious, of which, presently, we shall see
some instances.
The soldiers Golownin observed to be of two classes, those of the local
administration, and others whom he calls imperial soldiers, and who
appear, by his description, to be precisely the same with those whom
Kämpfer describes under the name of Dōshin, as attached to the service
of the governor of Nagasaki, and indeed, this same name, in a modified
form, is given to them by Golownin. They took precedence of the others,
and were so handsomely clothed and equipped as to be mistaken at first
for officers. The profession of arms, like most others in Japan, is
hereditary. The arms of the soldiers, besides the two swords, were
matchlocks,—which, when they fired, they placed, not against the
shoulder, but the right cheek,—bows and arrows, and long pikes, heavy
and inconvenient.
They could all read, and spent much time in reading aloud, which they
did much in the same droning, half-chanting tone in which the psalms
are read at funerals in Russia. Great surprise was expressed that the
Russian sailors were unable to read and write; and, also, that but one
Russian book was found in the officer’s baggage, and that on much worse
paper, and much worse bound, than those they had in French and other
languages. It was shrewdly asked if the Russians did not know how to
print books?
Playing at cards and draughts was a very common amusement. The cards
were at first known to the Japanese by their European names, and were
fifty-two in the pack. Owing, however, to the pecuniary losses—for the
Japanese were great gamesters—and fatal disputes to which cards gave
rise, they were strictly prohibited. But this law was evaded by the
invention of a pack of forty-eight cards much smaller than those of
Europe. Their game at draughts was extremely difficult and complicated.
They made use of a large board, and four hundred men, which they moved
about in many directions, and which were liable to be taken in various
ways. The Russian sailors played at draughts in the European way,
which the Japanese soon learned to imitate, so that the game, and the
Russian terms employed in playing it, soon became familiar throughout
the city of Matsumae.
The following anecdote throws some light on Japanese domestic
relations: “Our interpreter, Uyehara Kumajirō (this was the first
interpreter), visited us the day after the marriage of his daughter,
and having mentioned the marriage, said that he had wept very much.
‘Why wept,’ said we, ‘since on such occasions it is usual only to
rejoice?’ ‘Certainly,’ he answered, ‘I should have rejoiced, were I but
convinced that the man will love my daughter and make her happy; but,
as the contrary often happens in the married state, a father who gives
his daughter to a husband cannot be indifferent, for fear of future
misfortunes.’ He spoke this with tears in his eyes, and in a voice
which affected us.”
Of the value which the Japanese put upon female society the following
curious instance occurred. The prisoners’ meals were at one time
superintended by an old officer of sixty, who was very civil, and
frequently consoled them with assurances that they should be sent home.
One day he brought them three portraits of Japanese ladies, richly
dressed, which, after examining, they handed back; but the old man
insisted they should keep them, and, when asked why, he observed that,
when time hung heavy on their hands, they might console themselves by
looking at them!
For the first fortnight of the new year all business was suspended.
Nothing was thought of except visiting and feasting. In the latter half
of the month the more industrious resumed their employments. All who
can, procure new clothes on this occasion, and the Japanese insisted
upon furnishing their prisoners in the same way. “Custom requires,”
says Golownin, “that each person should visit all his acquaintances
in the place in which he resides, and send letters of congratulation
to those who are at a distance. Our interpreters and guards were
accordingly employed, for some days previous to the festival, in
writing letters of that kind and visiting-cards. On the latter the
names of the person from whom the card comes, and for whom it is
intended, are written, and the opportunity by which it is presented
is also noted. Teisuke translated for us one of his congratulatory
letters, addressed to the officer at Kunashiri by whom we had been
entrapped, and which was to the following effect: “Last year you were
happy, and I greatly desire that this new year you may enjoy good
health, and experience happiness and prosperity in every undertaking. I
still respect you as formerly, and request that you will not forget me.
TEISUKE.”
It is evident, from Golownin’s narrative, that the houses, furniture,
and domestic arrangement, at Matsumae, notwithstanding the coldness
of the climate, differed in nothing from those in use in the more
southerly islands. The Japanese, Golownin observed, were, compared with
the Russians, very small eaters. They were also much more temperate
in drinking, it being looked upon as disgraceful to be drunk in the
daytime, or at any time, extraordinary festivities excepted.
[Illustration: ARTISANS FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE: REPAIRING WOODEN CLOGS;
REPAIRING TATAMI]
Late in the summer following the capture of Golownin and his
companions, the “Diana,” now under the command of Captain Rikord, came
back to Kunashiri. Of the two Japanese seized by Chwostoff, one had
died. The other, who called himself Ryōzayemon, Rikord had on board,
along with six other Japanese, lately shipwrecked on Kamtschatka,
hoping to exchange these seven for the seven Russians. On reaching the
bay where Golownin had been taken, he saw a new battery of fourteen
guns. All the buildings were covered with striped cloth, the boats were
drawn up on the shore, and not a person appeared.
Ryōzayemon, in his six years’ captivity, had learned some Russian,
and he was employed to write a short letter from Captain Rikord to
the commander on shore, stating his having brought back the seven
Japanese, and requesting the restoration of his countrymen. From some
circumstances, the good faith of Ryōzayemon was suspected, and the
contents of the letter written by him rather distrusted; still it was
finally sent on shore by one of the Japanese, upon whom the batteries
fired as he landed, and who returned no more.
Three days after, a second Japanese was sent with a written message
in the Russian language; but he came back, saying that the governor
had refused to receive it, and that he had been himself thrust out of
the castle. As a last resource, Ryōzayemon—who represented himself as
a merchant, and a person of some consequence, though in fact he had
been only a fishing agent—was sent on shore, with another Japanese,
on his promise to return with such information as he could obtain. He
did return, without the other, and stated that the Russians were all
dead. Sent on shore to obtain in writing a confirmation of this verbal
statement, he came back no more.
Rikord now determined to seize any Japanese vessel that might be
entering or leaving the harbor. A large Japanese ship soon appeared,
from which, as the Russian boats approached her, several of her crew
of sixty men jumped into the water. Nine were drowned, some escaped
to the shore, and others were picked up by the Russian boats. The
captain, who was taken on board the “Diana,” appeared, from his rich
yellow dress, his swords, and other circumstances, to be a person of
distinction. Being interrogated in Japanese, of which Rikord had picked
up a little from Ryōzayemon, he answered with great frankness that his
name was Takataya Kahei, that he was the owner of ten ships, and bound
from Yetorofu (the nineteenth Kurile) to Hakodate with a cargo of dried
fish, but had been obliged by contrary winds to put into the bay of
Kunashiri.
Being shown the letter written by Ryōzayemon, he exclaimed, “Captain
Moor[96] and five Russians are now in the city of Matsumae.” This
information was hardly credited, and Rikord finally resolved to convey
his captive to Kamtschatka, hoping, in the course of the winter,
to obtain through him some information respecting the fate of the
Russians, and the views of the Japanese government, especially as he
seemed far superior to any of the Japanese with whom they had hitherto
met, and therefore more likely to understand the policy of those who
ruled in Japan.
“I informed him,” says Rikord, “that he must hold himself in readiness
to accompany me to Russia, and explained the circumstances which
compelled me to make such an arrangement. He understood me perfectly,
and when I proceeded to state my belief that Captain Golownin, Mr.
Moor, and the rest of the Russian prisoners had been put to death,
he suddenly interrupted me, exclaiming, ‘That is not true. Captain
Moor and five Russians are living in Matsumae, where they are well
treated, and enjoy the freedom of walking about the city, accompanied
by two officers.’ When I intimated that we intended to take him with
us, he replied, with astonishing coolness, ‘Well, I am ready’; and
merely requested that, on our arrival in Russia, he might continue to
live with me. This I promised he should do, and likewise that I would
carry him back to Japan in the ensuing year. He then seemed perfectly
reconciled to his unlooked-for destiny.
“The four Japanese, who still remained on board the ship, understood
not a word of Russian, and were, besides, so afflicted with the
scurvy[97] that they would, in all probability, have perished had
they wintered in Kamtschatka. I therefore thought it advisable to set
them at liberty, and, having furnished them with every necessary, I
ordered them to be put on shore, hoping that they would, in gratitude,
give a good account of the Russians to their countrymen.[98] In their
stead, I determined to take four seamen from the Japanese vessel, who
might be useful in attending on Kahei, to whom I left the choice of
the individuals. He earnestly entreated that none of the seamen might
be taken, observing that they were extremely stupid, and that he
feared they would die of grief, owing to the dread they entertained
of the Russians. The earnestness of his solicitations led me in some
measure to doubt that our comrades were really living in Matsumae, and
I repeated, in a decided manner, my determination to take four of the
seamen. He then begged that I would accompany him to his ship. When
he went on board, he assembled the whole of his crew in the cabin,
and, having seated himself on a long cushion, which was placed on a
fine mat, requested that I would take my place beside him. The sailors
all knelt down (seated themselves on their heels?) before us, and he
delivered a long speech, in which he stated that it would be necessary
for some of them to accompany us to Russia.
“Here a very affecting scene was exhibited. A number of the seamen
approached him, with their heads bent downwards, and, with great
eagerness, whispered something to him. Their countenances were all
bathed in tears; even Kahei, who had hitherto evinced calmness and
resolution, seemed now to be deeply distressed, and began to weep.
I for some time hesitated to carry my resolution into effect, and
was only induced to adhere to it by the consideration that I would
hereafter have the opportunity of interrogating each individual
separately, and probably thereby ascertaining whether or not our
comrades were really alive in Matsumae. I had, however, in other
respects, no reason to repent of this determination, for the Japanese
merchant, who was accustomed to live in a style of Asiatic luxury,
would have experienced serious inconvenience on board our vessel
without his Japanese attendants, two of whom were always, by turns,
near his person.
“Kahei, and the sailors he selected, soon behaved as though our
ship had been their own, and we, on our side, employed every means
to convince them that we considered the Japanese, not as a hostile,
but as a friendly nation, with whom our good understanding was only
accidentally interrupted.
“The same day we received on board, at my invitation, from the captured
vessel, a Japanese lady, who had been the inseparable companion of
Kahei on his voyage from Hakodate, his place of residence, to Etorofu.
She was extremely desirous of seeing our ship, and the strange people
and polite enemies, as she styled us, and to witness our friendly
intercourse with her countrymen. A Japanese lady was also, to us, no
slight object of curiosity. When she came on board, she appeared very
timid and embarrassed. I requested Kahei to conduct her into my cabin,
and, as she advanced, I took her by the other hand. On reaching the
cabin-door, she wished to take off her straw shoes; but, as there were
neither mats nor carpets in my cabin, I explained to her, by signs,
that this singular mark of politeness might be dispensed with among us.
“On entering the cabin, she placed both hands on her head, with
the palms outwards, and saluted us by bending her body very low.
I conducted her to a chair, and Kahei requested her to sit down.
Fortunately for this unexpected visitor, there was on board our
vessel a young and handsome woman, the wife of our surgeon’s mate.
The Japanese lady seemed highly pleased on being introduced to her,
and they quickly formed an intimacy. Our countrywoman endeavored to
entertain the foreigner with what the women of all countries delight
in—she showed her her trinkets. Our visitor behaved with all the
ease of a woman of fashion; she examined the ornaments with great
curiosity, and expressed her admiration by an agreeable smile. But
the fair complexion of our countrywoman seemed most of all to attract
her attention. She passed her hands over the Russian woman’s face, as
though she suspected it had been painted, and, with a smile, exclaimed,
‘_Yoi! yoi!_’ which signifies _good_. I observed that our visitor was
somewhat vain of her new ornaments, and I held a looking-glass before
her that she might see how they became her. The Russian lady placed
herself immediately behind her, in order to show her the difference
of their complexions, when she immediately pushed the glass aside,
and said, ‘_-Warui! warui!_’—_not good_. She might herself have been
called handsome; her face was of the oval form, her features regular,
and her little mouth, when open, disclosed a set of shining black
lackered teeth. Her black eyebrows, which had the appearance of having
been pencilled, overarched a pair of sparkling dark eyes, which were by
no means deeply seated. Her hair was black, and rolled up in the form
of a turban, without any ornament, except a few small tortoise-shell
combs. She was about the middle size, and elegantly formed. Her dress
consisted of six wadded silk garments, similar to our night-gowns,
each fastened round the lower part of the waist by a separate band,
and drawn close together from the girdle downwards. They were all of
different colors, the outer one black. Her articulation was slow, and
her voice soft. Her countenance was expressive and interesting, and
she was, altogether, calculated to make a very agreeable impression.
She could not be older than eighteen. We entertained her with fine
green tea and sweetmeats, of which she ate and drank moderately. On
her taking leave, I made her some presents, with which she appeared to
be much pleased. I hinted to our countrywoman that she should embrace
her, and when the Japanese observed what was intended, she ran into her
arms, and kissed her with a smile.”
The Japanese merchant, at Rikord’s request, wrote a letter to the
commander at Kunashiri, detailing the state of affairs. No answer was
returned, and when an attempt was made to land for water, the boats
were fired upon, as was the “Diana” herself, whenever she approached
the shore; but the aim was so bad as to excite the derision of the
Russians.
During the winter passed in Kamtschatka, the Japanese merchant
continued to gain in the good opinion of his captors, whose language
he so far mastered as to be able to converse in it even on abstract
subjects. He seemed to interest himself much in arranging the
misunderstanding between the Russian and Japanese governments, and
expressed his wish, which he said was shared by others of his class,
to see a commercial intercourse opened between the two nations; and it
was at his suggestion that Rikord sent to the governor of Irkutsk for a
disavowal of the hostile acts of Chwostoff.
Kahei remained in good health and spirits till the middle of winter,
when the death of two of his Japanese attendants greatly affected him.
He became melancholy and peevish, asserted that he had the scurvy,
and told the surgeon he should certainly die; but his real disorder
was home-sickness, aggravated by apprehensions of being detained at
Okhotsk, whither Rikord had intended to sail before proceeding to
Japan, in order to get the disavowal above referred to. As Kahei’s
assistance seemed essential, Rikord, fearing lest he might die,
resolved to sail direct for Japan as soon as the vessel could be cut
from the ice,—a resolution by which Kahei’s spirits were greatly raised.
They arrived in Kunashiri bay in June, 1813. The buildings were, as
formerly, concealed by striped cotton cloth, but no guns were fired,
and not a living being was to be seen. When the two Japanese sailors
were about to be sent on shore, Rikord, somewhat excited at their
master’s declining to pledge himself for their return, bade them say to
the governor, that if he prevented them from returning, or sent back
no information, their master should be carried to Okhotsk, whence some
ships of war should immediately come to demand the liberation of the
Russians.
“At these words,” says Rikord, “Kahei changed countenance, but said,
with much calmness, ‘Commander of the imperial ship’—he always
addressed me thus on important occasions—‘thou counsellest rashly. Thy
orders to the governor of Kunashiri seem to contain much, but according
to our laws they contain little. In vain dost thou threaten to carry me
to Okhotsk; my men may be detained on shore, but neither two, nor yet
two thousand sailors can answer for me. Therefore I give thee previous
notice that it will not be in thy power to take me to Okhotsk. But tell
me whether it be under these conditions only that my sailors are to be
sent on shore?’ ‘Yes,’ said I; ‘as commander of a ship of war, I cannot
under these circumstances act otherwise.’
[Illustration: SCENES IN THE HOME: THE DOCTOR’S CALL; HAIR-DRESSING; A
BLIND MASSEUR]
“‘Well,’ replied he, ‘allow me to give my sailors my last and most
urgent instructions, as to what they must communicate from me to the
governor of Kunashiri.’ He then rose up—for during this conversation
he sat, according to the Japanese custom, with his legs under him—and
addressed me very earnestly in the following terms: ‘You know enough
of Japanese to understand all that I may say in plain and easy words
to my sailors. I would not wish you to have any ground to suspect me
of hatching base designs.’ He then sat down again, when his sailors
approached him on their knees, and hanging down their heads, listened
with deep attention to his words. He reminded them circumstantially of
the day on which they were carried on board the ‘Diana,’ of the manner
in which they had been treated on board that ship and in Kamtschatka,
of their having inhabited the same house with me, and being carefully
provided for, of the death of their two countrymen, notwithstanding
all the attention bestowed upon them by the Russian physician, and,
finally, that the ship had hastily returned to Japan on account of
his own health. All this he directed them faithfully to relate, and
concluded with the warmest commendations of me, and earnest expressions
of gratitude for the care that I had taken of him by sea and on land.
He then sank into a deep silence and prayed, after which he delivered
to the sailor whom he most esteemed, his picture to be conveyed to
his wife, and his large sabre, which he called his paternal sword,
to be presented to his only son and heir. This solemn ceremony being
finished, he stood up, and with a frank and indeed very cheerful
expression of countenance, asked for some brandy to treat his sailors
at parting. He drank with them, and accompanied them on deck, when they
were landed, and proceeded without interruption towards the fortress.”
Rikord was a good deal troubled and alarmed at the air and manner of
Kahei; and finally, after consulting with his officers concluded to
dismiss him unconditionally, trusting to his honor for his doing his
best to procure the release of the Russians.
Kahei was greatly delighted at this mark of confidence, though he
declined to go on shore till the next day, as it would not conform to
Japanese ideas of etiquette for him to land on the same day with his
sailors. He confessed to Rikord that he had been greatly wounded by the
threat to carry him to Okhotsk. It was not consistent with Japanese
ideas, that a man of his position should remain a prisoner in a foreign
country, and he had therefore made up his mind to prevent it by cutting
himself open. He had accordingly cut off the tuft of hair from his
head,—and he showed that it was gone,—and had laid it in the box with
his picture; it being customary with those about to die honorably,
by their own hands, in a distant place, to send this token to their
friends, who bury the tuft of hair with all the ceremonies which they
would have bestowed upon the body. And he even intimated that previous
to doing this execution on himself, he might first have stabbed Rikord
and the next in command.
Kahei exerted himself with the greatest energy in the matter of
the negotiation, and he soon was able to produce a letter, in the
hand-writing of Golownin, and signed by him and Moor, but which the
jealousy of their keepers had limited to the simple announcement that
they were alive and well at Matsumae. Afterwards one of the imprisoned
Russian sailors was brought on board the ship, being sent from Matsumae
for that purpose; but, though allowed to spend his days on board the
“Diana,” he was required to return to the fort every night. In spite,
however, of all the watchfulness of the Japanese, he had brought sewed
up in his jacket a letter from Golownin, in which he recommended
prudence, civility, candor, and especially patience, and entreated that
no letters nor anything else should be sent him which might cause him
to be tormented with questions and translations.
The Japanese would not deliver up their prisoners till the “Diana”
first sailed to Okhotsk, and brought from the authorities there a
formal written disavowal of the hostilities of Chwostoff. At Okhotsk
was found the letter from the governor of Irkutsk, previously sent for
at Kahei’s suggestion, and with this document and another letter from
the commander at Okhotsk, the “Diana” reached Hakodate towards the end
of October.
“As we approached the town,” says Rikord, “we observed that cloth
was hung out only at a few places on the hill, or near it, and not
over the whole buildings, as at Kunashiri. With the assistance of
our telescopes, we observed six of these screens of cloth, probably
intended to conceal fortifications. There were, beside, five new
fortifications at short distances from each other, and from two to
three hundred fathoms from the shore.
“We no sooner entered the roads than we were surrounded by a number
of boats, of all descriptions and sizes, filled with the curious of
both sexes. A European ship must indeed have been to them an object of
uncommon interest; for, as far as I could ascertain, they had seen none
since they were visited twenty-two years before by Laxman.[99] Many of
the inhabitants, therefore, had never beheld a European vessel of any
kind, and still less a ship of war; they accordingly thronged about us
in vast numbers, and their curiosity frequently gave rise to disputes
among themselves. The Dōshin (soldiers), who were stationed in the
watch-boats, continually called to them to keep at a further distance;
but so great was the confusion that, though the people generally showed
great respect to the soldiers, their orders were on this occasion
disregarded. The military, therefore, were under the necessity of
using the iron batons which they wear fastened to their girdles by
long silken strings. They spared neither rank nor sex; old persons
alone experienced their indulgence, and we had various opportunities of
observing that the Japanese, in all situations, pay particular respect
to old age. In this case blows were freely dealt out to the young,
of every description, who ventured to disobey the commands of the
soldiers, and we were at length delivered from a multitude of visitors,
who would have subjected us to no small degree of inconvenience.”
Kahei came on board the next morning, and the letter from the governor
of Okhotsk was given to him to be transmitted to the governor of
Matsumae; but Captain Rikord refused to deliver the other letter,
except in person. After much negotiation the ceremonial for an
interview was arranged. The Japanese even conceded that the ten men
who landed with Rikord as his guard of honor should be allowed to take
their muskets with them; he, on his part, agreeing to land in the
Japanese governor’s barge, and, before entering the audience chamber,
to substitute, instead of his boots, shoes, which Kahei undertook
to pass off as leather stockings. Rikord had for his interpreter a
Japanese whom he had brought from Okhotsk, sent thither from Irkutsk,
and who bore the Russian name of Kesseleff. The Japanese had Teisuke,
who had learnt Russian of Golownin. The governor of Matsumae,
Hattori-Bingo-no-kami, was represented on this occasion by the governor
of Hakodate, and by an academician sent for the express purpose
of making observations on the Russian ship of war, and collecting
particulars respecting European science,—no other, indeed, than Doeff’s
friend, “Globius.”
The letter of the governor of Irkutsk was delivered, with great
formality, in a box covered with purple cloth. Rikord took it out, read
the address aloud, and returned it. Kesseleff, Rikord’s interpreter,
then handed the box to Teisuke, who raised it above his head, and
placed it in the hands of the junior commissioner, who delivered it to
the senior commissioner, who promised to deliver it to the bugiō, or
governor. An entertainment followed of tea and sweetmeats, during which
a Japanese was placed beside Rikord to receive and hand to him his
share of the eatables.
From the moment of the departure of the “Diana” for Okhotsk, Golownin
and his companions had begun to be treated rather as guests than
prisoners. They were soon conveyed back to Hakodate, and at length,
after a confinement of more than two years, were delivered up to
Rikord, with a paper of which the following are the material parts:
NOTIFICATION FROM THE GIMMIYAKU, THE CHIEF COMMANDERS NEXT TO THE
BUGIŌ, OF MATSUMAE.
“Twenty-two years ago a Russian vessel arrived at Matsumae, and eleven
years ago another came to Nagasaki. Though the laws of our country
were on both those occasions minutely explained, yet we are of opinion
that we have not been clearly understood on your part, owing to the
great dissimilarity between our languages and writing. However, as
we have now detained you, it will be easy to give you an explanation
of these matters. When you return to Russia, communicate to the
commanders of the coasts of Kamtschatka, Okhotsk, and others, the
declaration of our bugiō, which will acquaint them with the nature of
the Japanese laws with respect to the arrival of foreign ships, and
prevent a repetition of similar transgressions on your part.
“In our country the Christian religion is strictly prohibited, and
European vessels are not suffered to enter any Japanese harbor except
Nagasaki. This law does not extend to Russian vessels only. This
year it has not been enforced, because we wished to communicate with
your countrymen; but all that may henceforth present themselves will
be driven back by cannon-balls. Bear in mind this declaration, and
you cannot complain if at any future period you should experience a
misfortune in consequence of your disregard of it.
“Among us there exists this law: ‘If any European residing in Japan
shall attempt to teach our people the Christian faith, he shall
undergo a severe punishment, and shall not be restored to his native
country.’ As you, however, have not attempted to do so, you will
accordingly be permitted to return home. Think well on this.
“Our countrymen wish to carry on no commerce with foreign lands, for
we know no want of necessary things. Though foreigners are permitted
to trade to Nagasaki, even to that harbor only those are admitted with
whom we have for a long period maintained relations, and we do not
trade with them for the sake of gain, but for other important objects.
From the repeated solicitations which you have hitherto made to us,
you evidently imagine that the customs of our country resemble those
of your own; but you are very wrong in thinking so. In future, it will
be better to say no more about a commercial connection.”
In all this business the efforts of Kahei had been indefatigable. At
first he was treated by his own countrymen with the suspicion and
reserve extended to all, even native Japanese, who come from a foreign
country. For a long time he was not permitted to visit Golownin. A
guard was set over him, and even his friends and relations could not
see him except in presence of an imperial soldier. In fact, according
to the Japanese laws, as a person just returned from a foreign country,
he ought to have been allowed no correspondence at all with his
friends. The governor of Hakodate, having a letter for him from his
only son, said not a word to him about it, but having sent for him to
convey a letter from Golownin on board the “Diana,” while walking up
and down the room, threw his son’s letter towards him, as if it had
been a piece of waste paper taken out of his sleeve accidentally with
the other letter, and then turned his back to give him time to pick it
up.[100]
Kahei’s abduction had thrown his family into great distress. A
celebrated priest, or spirit-medium, at Hakodate, to the question
whether he ever would return, had answered, “Kahei will return the
ensuing summer, with two of his companions; the remaining two have
perished in a foreign land.” This answer was communicated to Golownin,
who laughed at it; but when, on Kahei’s return, it appeared that two
of his Japanese attendants had actually died, the Japanese believers
were greatly edified, and highly indignant at Golownin’s persistence in
maintaining that there was more of luck than foresight in the prophecy.
Kahei’s wife—another probably than the young female with whom we are
already acquainted—in her grief made a vow to go on a pilgrimage
through the whole of Japan; and Kahei assured Captain Rikord that
scarcely had she returned from her pilgrimage, when she received his
letter from Kunashiri, announcing his return.
Kahei had a bosom friend, who, on learning his fate, divided his large
property among the poor, and took up his residence in the mountains
as a hermit. As appeared on various occasions, Kahei was a strict
disciplinarian, and very punctilious. He had a daughter, whom, owing
to some misconduct, he had discarded. She was dead to him, so he said;
and to Rikord, to whom he had told the story, and who had taken an
interest in the girl, he had insisted that a reconciliation would be
inconsistent with his honor. Yet, to show his hermit friend that in the
way of self-sacrifice he was not to be outdone, he made up his mind to
the great effort of calling his daughter into life, and forgiving her.
His friend would, he said, when this communication was made to him, at
once understand it.
[Illustration: SCENE IN A COMMON SCHOOL]
During Kahei’s absence his mercantile affairs had prospered, and
before Rikord’s departure he brought on board the “Diana,” with all
the evidence of paternal pride, his son, who seemed, indeed, to be a
promising youth. He was very liberal in his distribution of silk and
cotton wadded dresses to the crew, to all of whom he gave one or more,
to his favorites the best ones, taking especial care to remember the
cook. He then begged to be allowed to treat them. “Sailors, captain,”
so he said to Rikord, “are all alike, whether Russian or Japanese.
They are all fond of a glass; and there is no danger in the harbor of
Hakodate.” So the sailors had a night of it, being plentifully supplied
with sake and Japanese tobacco.
Though he refused all presents of value, as being indeed prohibited
by Japanese law, Kahei accepted with pleasure a Russian tea-set, as
it would enable him, in entertaining his friends, to call to mind his
Russian hosts; and he expressed much regret that the custom of his
country did not allow him to invite Rikord to his own house. Finally,
he brought a number of boats to help tow the “Diana” out of the harbor.
This is the only full-length portrait we possess of a Japanese
merchant; and, if it represents the class, the fraternity have reason
to be proud of their Japanese brethren. “The class of merchants in
Japan,” says Golownin, “is very extensive and rich, but not held
in honor. The merchants have not the right to bear arms;[101] but
though their profession is not respected, their wealth is; for this,
as in Europe, supplies the place of talents and dignity, and attains
privileges and honorable places. The Japanese told us that their
officers of state and men of rank behave themselves outwardly with
great haughtiness to the merchants, but in private are very familiar
with the rich ones, and are often under great obligations to them. We
had with us for some time a young officer, who was the son of a rich
merchant, and who, as the Japanese said, owed his rank not to his own
merit, but to his father’s gold. Thus, though the laws do not favor the
mercantile profession, yet wealth raises it; for even in Japan, where
the laws are so rigorously enforced, they are often weighed down by the
influence of gold.”