and an eloquence that captivated the imaginations of the Japanese.
Instead of the long series of miseries of Buddhist transmigration, it
offered admission to the glories of heaven after death, a doctrine sure
to be highly attractive to those who had little to hope for but misery
during life. The story of the life and death of Christ strongly
impressed the minds of the people, as compared with the colder story of
Buddha's career, while a certain similarity between the modes of
worship of the two religions proved of the greatest assistance to the
advocates of the new creed. The native temples were made to serve as
Christian churches; the images of Buddha and his saints were converted
into those of Christ and the apostles; and, aside from the more
attractive doctrines of Christianity, there were points of resemblance
between the organization and ceremonial of the two religions that aided
the missionaries in inducing the people to change from their old to the
new faith.
One of the methods pursued in the propagation of Christianity had never
been adopted by the Buddhists, that of persecution of alien faiths. The
spirit of the Inquisition, then active in Europe, was brought to Japan.
The missionaries instigated their converts to destroy the idols and
desert the old shrines. Gold was used freely as an agent in conversion,
and the Christian daimios compelled their subjects to follow them in
accepting the new faith. In whole districts the people were ordered to
accept Christianity or to exile themselves from their homes. Exile or
death was the fate of many of the bonzes, and fire and the sword lent
effect to preaching in the propagation of the doctrine of Christianity.
To quote a single instance, from Charlevoix's "History of the
Christianizing of Japan," "In 1577 the lord of the island of Amacusa
issued his proclamation, by which his subjects--whether bonzes or
gentlemen, merchants or traders--were required either to turn
Christians, or to leave the country the very next day. They almost all
submitted, and received baptism, so that in a short time there were
more than twenty churches in the kingdom. God wrought miracles to
confirm the faithful in their belief."
Miracles of the kind here indicated and others that might be quoted were
not of the character of those performed by Christ, and such methods of
making proselytes were very likely to recoil upon those that indulged in
them. How the result of the introduction of European methods manifested
itself in Japan will be indicated in our next tale.
_THE DECLINE AND FALL OF CHRISTIANITY IN JAPAN._
We have described in the preceding tale the rise of Christianity in
Japan, and the remarkable rapidity of its development in that remote
land. We have now to describe its equally rapid decline and fall, and
the exclusion of Europeans from Japanese soil. It must be said here that
this was in no sense due to the precepts of Christianity, but wholly to
the hostility between its advocates of different sects, their jealousy
and abuse of one another, and to the quarrels between nations in the
contest to gain a lion's share of the trade with Japan.
At the time when the Portuguese came to Japan all Europe was torn with
wars, civil, political, and religious. These quarrels were transferred
to the soil of Japan, and in the end so disgusted the people of that
empire that Europeans were forbidden to set foot on its shores and the
native Christians were massacred. Traders, pirates, slave-dealers, and
others made their way thither, with such a hodge-podge of interests, and
such a medley of lies and backbitings, that the Japanese became incensed
against the whole of them, and in the end decided that their room was
far better than their company.
The Portuguese were followed to Japan by the Spaniards, and these by the
Dutch, each trying to blacken the character of the others. The
Catholics abused the Protestants, and were as vigorously abused in
return. Each trading nation lied with the most liberal freedom about its
rivals. To the seaports of Hirado and Nagasaki came a horde of the
outcasts of Europe, inveterately hostile to one another, and indulging
in quarrels, riots, and murders to an extent which the native
authorities found difficult to control. In addition, the slave-trade was
eagerly prosecuted, slaves being so cheap, in consequence of the poverty
and misery arising from the civil wars, that even the negro and Malay
servants of the Portuguese indulged in this profitable trade, which was
continued in spite of decrees threatening all slave-dealers with death.
This state of affairs, and the recriminations of the religious sects,
gave very natural disgust to the authorities of Japan, who felt little
respect for a civilization that showed itself in such uncivilized
shapes, and the disputing and fighting foreigners were rapidly digging
their own graves in Japan. During the life of Nobunaga all went on well.
In his hatred to the Buddhist bonzes he favored the Jesuits, and
Christianity found a clear field. With the advent of Hideyoshi there
came a change. His early favor to the missionaries was followed by
disgust, and in 1587 he issued a decree banishing them from the land.
The churches and chapels were closed, public preaching ceased, but
privately the work of conversion went actively on, as many as ten
thousand converts being made each year.
The Spanish mendicant friars from the Philippines were bolder in their
work. Defying the decree, they preached openly in the dress of their
orders, not hesitating to denounce in violent language the obnoxious
law. As a result the decree was renewed, and a number of the priests and
their converts were crucified. But still the secret work of the Jesuits
continued and the number of converts increased, among them being some of
the generals in the Corean war.
[Illustration: MAIN STREET, YOKOHAMA.]
With the accession of Iyeyasu began a rapid downfall of Christianity in
Japan. In the great battle which raised him to the head of affairs some
of the Christian leaders were killed. Konishi, a Christian general, who
had commanded one division of the army in Corea, was executed. On every
side there was evidence of a change in the tide of affairs, and the
Christians of Japan began to despair.
The daimios no longer bade their followers to become Christians. On the
contrary, they ordered them to renounce the new faith, under threat of
punishment. Their harshness resulted in rebellion, so new a thing among
the peasantry of Japan that the authorities felt sure that they had been
secretly instigated to it by the missionaries. The wrath of the shogun
aroused, he sent soldiers against the rebels, putting down each outbreak
with bloodshed, and in 1606 issued a decree abolishing the Christian
faith. This the Spanish friars defied, as they had that of his
predecessor.
In 1611, Iyeyasu was roused to more active measures by the discovery of
a plot between the foreigners and the native converts for the overthrow
of the government. Sado, whose mines were worked by thousands of
Christian exiles, was to be the centre of the outbreak, its governor,
Okubo, being chosen as the leader and the proposed new ruler of the
land.
Iyeyasu, awakened to the danger, now took active steps to crush out the
foreign faith. A large number of friars and Jesuits, with native
priests, were forcibly sent from the country, while the siege and
capture of the castle of Ozaka in 1615 ended the career of all the
native friends of the Jesuits, and brought final ruin upon the Christian
cause in Japan.
During the reigns of the succeeding shoguns a violent persecution began.
The Dutch traders, who showed no disposition to interfere in religious
affairs, succeeded in ousting their Portuguese rivals, all foreigners
except Dutch and Chinese being banished from Japan, while foreign trade
was confined to the two ports of Hirado and Nagasaki. This was followed
by a cruel effort to extirpate what was now looked on as a pestilent
foreign faith. Orders were issued that the people should trample on the
cross or on a copper plate engraved with the image of Christ. Those who
refused were exposed to horrible persecutions, being wrapped in sacks of
straw and burnt to death in heaps of fuel, while terrible tortures were
employed to make them renounce their faith. Some were flung alive into
open graves, many burned with the wood of the crosses before which they
had prayed, others flung from the edge of precipices. Yet they bore
tortures and endured death with a fortitude not surpassed by that of
the martyrs of old, clinging with the highest Christian ardor to their
new faith.
In 1637 these excesses of persecution led to an insurrection, the native
Christians rising in thousands, seizing an old castle at Shimabara, and
openly defying their persecutors. Composed as they were of farmers and
peasants, the commanders who marched against them at the head of veteran
armies looked for an easy conquest, but with all their efforts the
insurgents held out against them for two months. The fortress was at
length reduced by the aid of cannon taken from the Dutch traders, and
after the slaughter of great numbers of the garrison. The bloody work
was consummated by the massacre of thirty-seven thousand Christian
prisoners, and the flinging of thousands more from a precipice into the
sea below. Many were banished, and numbers escaped to Formosa, whither
others had formerly made their way. The "evil sect" was formally
prohibited, while edicts were issued declaring that as long as the sun
should shine no foreigner should enter Japan and no native should leave
it. A slight exception was made in favor of the Dutch, of whom a small
number were permitted to reside on the little island of Deshima, in the
harbor of Nagasaki, one trading ship being allowed to come there each
year.
Thus ended the career of foreign trade and European residence in Japan.
It had continued for nearly a century, yet left no mark of its presence
except the use of gunpowder and fire-arms, the culture of tobacco and
the habit of smoking, the naturalization of a few foreign words and of
several strange diseases, and, as an odd addition, the introduction of
sponge-cake, still everywhere used as a favorite viand. As for
Christianity, the very name of Christ became execrated, and was employed
as the most abhorrent word that could be spoken in Japan. The Christian
faith was believed to be absolutely extirpated, and yet it seems to have
smouldered unseen during the centuries. As late as 1829 seven persons
suspected of being Christians were crucified in Ozaka. Yet in 1860, when
the French missionaries were admitted to Nagasaki, they found in the
surrounding villages no fewer than ten thousand people who still clung
in secret to the despised and persecuted faith.
The French and English had little intercourse with Japan, but the career
of one Englishman there is worthy of mention. This was a pilot named
Will Adams, who arrived there in 1607 and lived in or near Yedo until
his death in 1620. He seems to have been a manly and honest fellow, who
won the esteem of the people and the favor of the shogun, by whom he was
made an officer and given for support the revenue of a village. His
skill in ship-building and familiarity with foreign affairs made him
highly useful, and he was treated with great respect and kindness,
though not allowed to leave Japan. He had left a wife and daughter in
England, but married again in Japan, his children there being a son and
daughter, whose descendants may still be found in that country. Anjin
Cho (Pilot Street) in Yedo was named from him, and the inmates of that
street honor his memory with an annual celebration on the 15th of June.
His tomb may still be seen on one of the hills overlooking the Bay of
Yedo, where two neat stone shafts, set on a pediment of stone, mark the
burial-place of the only foreigner who in past times ever attained to
honor in Japan.
_THE CAPTIVITY OF CAPTAIN GOLOWNIN._
Japan was persistent in its policy of isolation. To its people their
group of islands was the world, and they knew little of and cared less
for what was going on in all the continents outside. The Dutch vessel
that visited their shores once a year served as an annual newspaper, and
satisfied their curiosity as to the doings of mankind. The goods it
brought were little cared for, Japan being sufficient unto itself, so
that it served merely as a window to the world. Once a year a delegation
from the Dutch settlement visited the capital, but the visitors
travelled almost like prisoners, and were forced to crawl in to the
mikado on their hands and knees and to back out again in the same
crab-like fashion. Some of these envoys wrote accounts of what they had
seen, and that was all that was known of Japan for two centuries.
This state of affairs could not continue. With the opening of the
nineteenth century the ships of Europe began to make their way in large
numbers to the North Pacific, and efforts were made to force open the
locked gates of Japan. Some sought for food and water. These could be
had at Nagasaki, but nowhere else, and were given with a warning to move
on. In some cases shipwrecked Japanese were brought back in foreign
vessels, but according to law such persons were looked upon as no longer
Japanese, and no welcome was given to those who brought them. In other
cases wrecked whalers and other mariners sought safety on Japanese soil,
but they were held strict prisoners, and rescued only with great
difficulty. The law was that foreigners landing anywhere on the coast,
except at Nagasaki, should be seized and condemned to perpetual
imprisonment, and that those landing at Nagasaki must strictly abstain
from Christian worship.
Meanwhile the Russians had become, through their Siberian ports, near
neighbors of Japan, and sought to open trade with that country. In 1793
Lieutenant Laxman landed at Hakodate and travelled overland to Matsumai,
bringing with him some shipwrecked Japanese and seeking for commercial
relations with Japan. He was treated with courtesy, but dismissed
without an answer to his demand, and told that he could take his
Japanese back with him or leave them as he pleased.
In 1804 the Russians came again, this time to Nagasaki. This vessel also
brought back some shipwrecked Japanese, and had on board a Russian
count, sent as ambassador from the czar. But the shogun refused to
receive the ambassador or to accept his presents, and sent him word that
Japan had little need of foreign productions, and got all it wanted from
the Dutch and Chinese. All this was said with great politeness, but the
ambassador thought that he had been shabbily treated, and went away
angry, reproaching the Dutch for his failure. His anger against the
Japanese was shown in a hostile fashion. In 1805 he sent out two small
vessels, whose crews landed on the island of Saghalien, plundered a
Japanese settlement there, carried off some prisoners, and left behind a
written statement that this had been done to revenge the slights put
upon the Russian ambassador.
This violence was amply repaid by the Japanese. How they did so we have
now to tell. In 1811 Captain Golownin, an intelligent and educated
officer of the Russian navy, was sent in command of the sloop-of-war
Diana to explore the Kurile Islands. These belonged to Japan, and were
partly settled. At the south end of Kunashir, one of these islands, was
a Japanese settlement, with a garrison. Here Golownin, having landed
with two officers, four men, and an interpreter, was invited into the
fort. He entered unsuspectingly, but suddenly found himself detained as
a prisoner, and held as such despite all the efforts of the Diana to
obtain his release.
The prisoners were at once bound with small cords in a most painful way,
their elbows being drawn behind their backs until they almost touched,
and their hands firmly tied together, the cords being also brought in
loops around their breasts and necks. A long cord proceeded from these
fastenings and was held by a Japanese, who, if an attempt were made to
escape, had only to pull it to bring the elbows together with great pain
and to tighten the loop around the neck so as nearly to strangle the
prisoner. Their ankles and knees were also firmly bound.
In this condition they were conveyed to Hakodate, in the island of
Yeso, a distance of six or seven hundred miles, being carried, on the
land part of the route, in a sort of palanquin made of planks, unless
they preferred to walk, in which case the cords were loosened about
their legs. At night they were trussed up more closely still, and the
ends of their ropes tied to iron hooks in the wall. The cords were drawn
so tight as in time to cut into the flesh, yet for six or seven days
their guards refused to loosen them, despite their piteous appeals,
being fearful that their prisoners might commit suicide, this being the
favorite Japanese method in extremity.
The escort consisted of nearly two hundred men. Two Japanese guides,
changed at each new district, led the way, carrying handsomely carved
staves. Three soldiers followed. Then came Captain Golownin, with a
soldier on one side, and on the other an attendant with a twig to drive
off the gnats, from whose troublesome attacks he was unable to defend
himself. Next came an officer holding the end of the rope that bound
him, followed by a party carrying his litter or palanquin. Each of the
prisoners was escorted in the same manner. In the rear came three
soldiers, and a number of servants carrying provisions and baggage.
Aside from their bonds, the captives were well treated, being supplied
with three meals a day, consisting of rice gruel, soup made of radishes
or other roots, a kind of macaroni, and a piece of fish. Mushrooms or
hard-boiled eggs were sometimes supplied.
Golownin's bitter complaints at length had the effect of a loosening of
their bonds, which enabled them to get along more comfortably. Their
guards took great care of their health, making frequent halts to rest,
and carrying them across all the streams, so that they should not wet
their feet. In case of rain they furnished them with Japanese quilted
gowns for protection. In all the villages the inhabitants viewed them
with great curiosity, and at Hakodate the street was crowded with
spectators, some with silk dresses and mounted on richly caparisoned
horses. None of the people showed any sign of malice or any disposition
to insult the prisoners, while in their journey they were cheered by
many displays of sympathy and piety.
At Hakodate they were imprisoned in a long, barn-like building, divided
into apartments hardly six feet square, each formed of thick spars and
resembling a cage. Outside were a high fence and an earthen wall. Here
their food was much worse than that on the journey. While here they were
several times examined, being conducted through the streets to a
castle-like building, where they were brought into the presence of the
governor and several other officials, who put to them a great variety of
questions, some of them of the most trivial character. A letter was also
brought them, which had been sent on shore from the Diana along with
their baggage, and which said that the ship would return to Siberia for
reinforcements, and then would never leave Japan till the prisoners were
released.
Some time afterwards the captives were removed to Matsumai, being
supplied with horses on the journey, but still to some extent fettered
with ropes. Here they were received by a greater crowd than before,
Matsumai being a more important town than Hakodate. Their prison was
similar to the preceding one, but their food was much better, and after
a time they were released from their cage-like cells and permitted to
dwell together in a large room. They were, as before, frequently
examined, their captors being so inquisitive and asking such trifling
and absurd questions that at times they grew so annoyed as to refuse to
answer. But no display of passion affected the politeness of the
Japanese, whose coolness and courtesy seemed unlimited.
Thus the first winter of their captivity was passed. In the spring they
were given more liberty, being allowed to take walks in the vicinity of
the town. Soon after they were removed from their prison to a dwelling
of three apartments, though they were still closely watched.
This strict confinement, of which they could see no end, at length
became so irksome that the prisoners determined to escape. Their walks
had made them familiar with the character of the surrounding country,
and enabled them also to gain possession of a few tools, with which they
managed to make a tunnel to the outer air. Leaving their cells at night,
they succeeded in reaching the mountains back of the town, whence they
hoped to find some means of escaping by sea.
But in the flight Golownin had hurt his leg severely, the pain being so
great that he was scarcely able to walk. This prevented the fugitives
from getting far from the town, while their wanderings through the
mountains were attended with many difficulties and dangers. After a week
thus spent, they were forced to seek the coast, where they were seen and
recaptured.
The captives were now confined in the common jail of the town, though
they were not treated any more harshly than before, and no ill will was
shown them by the officials. Even the soldier who was most blamed for
their escape treated them with his former kindness. They were soon sent
back to their old prison, where they passed a second winter, receiving
while there visits from a Japanese astronomer and others in search of
information. One old officer, who was very civil to them, at one time
brought them portraits of three richly dressed Japanese ladies, telling
them to keep them, as they might enjoy looking at them when time hung
heavy on their hands.
Meanwhile their countrymen were making earnest efforts to obtain their
release. Some months after their capture the Diana, now under Captain
Rikord, returned to Kunashir, bringing one of the Japanese who had been
taken prisoner in the descent on Saghalien. The other had died. Six
other Japanese, who had been lately shipwrecked, were brought, in the
hope of exchanging these seven for the seven prisoners. Efforts were
made to communicate with the Japanese, but they refused to receive the
Russian message, and sent back word that the prisoners were all dead.
Two of the Japanese sent ashore failed to return.
Rikord, weary of the delay and discourtesy shown, now resolved to take
more vigorous action, and seized upon a large Japanese ship that
entered the bay, taking prisoner the captain, who seemed to be a person
of distinction, and who told them that six of the Russians were in the
town of Matsumai. Not fully crediting this, Rikord resolved to carry his
captive to Kamchatka, hoping to obtain from him some useful information
concerning the purposes of the Japanese government. At Rikord's request
the merchant wrote a letter to the commander of the fort at Kunashir,
telling him what was proposed. No answer was returned, and when the
boats tried to land for water they were fired upon. The guns were also
turned upon the Diana whenever she approached the shore, but with such
wretched aim that the Russians only laughed at it.
In the following summer the Diana returned to Kunashir, bringing Kachi,
the merchant, who had been seriously ill from homesickness, and two of
his attendants, the others having died. The two attendants were sent on
shore, Kachi bidding them to tell that he had been very well treated,
and that the ship had made an early return on account of his health. On
the next day Rikord unconditionally set free his captive, trusting to
his honor for his doing all he could to procure the release of the
prisoners.