Part 7 (1/2)
In the middle watch of this, the ”Iron Duke's” first night on the Chinese territory, the steel hawser was brought to the capstan, but a piece of yarn would have been equally efficacious; for, under the immense strain, it snapped like a bow string, and, as there was now nothing to keep the stern in check, away she went broadside on to the difficulty.
Meantime a telegram had been wired to the admiral at Shanghai, and next day all the available help at that port came down the river to our a.s.sistance; besides the ”Vigilant,” ”Eyera,” ”Midge,” and ”Growler,”
there were two American war vessels, the ”Monocasy” and ”Palos,” also a Chinese paddle steamer.
On the third night a combined attempt was made to either haul us off or to pull us to pieces. With all their tugging they effected neither the one nor the other, and, had not nature ”lent us a fin”--in the shape of a breeze of wind--we might have been lying there to this day; a few pulls on our hawsers and we had the satisfaction of feeling that the dear old craft was once more on her proper element. The commander of one of the American s.h.i.+ps afterwards commenting on the difficulty experienced in removing us, hailed our captain with ”Guess, Cap'n, that piece of machinery of yours is lumpy!” ”Rather, Jonothan, I calculate.”
Had we not floated to-day the alternative was rather consoling; nothing less than the removal of all our heavy guns and spars.
Before our departure Shanghai was all astir at the visit of General Grant of the United States. Ostensibly, the general is travelling _incog._, but really as the representative of the United States, for he flies the ”stars and stripes” at the main, and gets a salute of twenty-one guns wherever he goes. For some reason or other we did not salute as he pa.s.sed up the river.
May 22nd saw us clearing out of the dangerous precincts of the Shanghai river and shaping our course across the turbid waters of the Yellow Sea for pastures new--that is to say--for j.a.pan. Under double-reefed canvas and a nine knot breeze we sighted land in the vicinity of Nagasaki on the 25th, and by evening our anchor ”kissed the mud” in as lovely a spot as ever mortal set eyes on. But I will reserve my eulogies for another chapter.
CHAPTER IX.
”It was a fresh and glorious world, A banner bright that shone unfurled Before me suddenly.”
ARRIVAL AT NAGASAKI.--SOMETHING ABOUT j.a.pAN.--A RUN THROUGH THE TOWN.--VISIT TO A SINTOR TEMPLE.
I know not if the author of the above lines had ever been to j.a.pan. I should think it very unlikely; and possibly the poet is but describing the scenery of his c.u.mberland home. In no disparagement of the beauteous country of the lake and mountain, yet we must confess that nothing there can compare with j.a.pan's natural magnificence.
All who have ever written of j.a.pan, or who have ever visited its sh.o.r.es, are unanimous in the praise they bestow on its charms of landscape. Even rollicking and light-hearted tars, who, as a rule, are not very sensible to the beauties of nature, are bound to use ”unqualified expressions of delight,” when that ”bright banner” lies unfurled under their gaze. And of all this beauteous land no part of it is more beautiful than the bay of Ommura, in the month of May.
Coming towards Nagasaki, from the westward, is like sailing on to a line of high, rigid, impenetrable rocks, for, apparently, we are heading blindly on to land which discloses not the slightest indication of an opening; but, relying on the accuracy of our charts, and the skill of our officers, we a.s.sume we are on the right course. By-and-bye the land, as if by some magic power, seems to rend asunder, and we find ourselves in a narrow channel, with well-wooded eminences on either hand, clothed with handsome fir trees. Right in front of us, and hiding the view of the town, is a small cone-shaped island of great beauty. English is a weak language in which to express clearly its surpa.s.sing loveliness.
This is Takabuko, or more familiarly, Papenberg, a spot with a sad and b.l.o.o.d.y history, for it was here that the remnant of the persecuted Christians, who escaped the general ma.s.sacre in 1838,--when 30,000 perished--made a last ineffectual stand for their lives and faith. But to no purpose, for pressed to extremities by the swords of their relentless persecutors, they threw themselves over the heights, and perished in the sea.
The people are not altogether to blame for this barbarous and cruel persecution. Had the Jesuits been satisfied with their spiritual conquests, and not sought to subvert the government of the country, all might have gone well, and j.a.pan, ere now, been a Christian country. But no; true to themselves and to their Order, they came not to bring peace, but literally a sword, and the innocent were made to suffer for the ambitions of a few designing priests.
The island pa.s.sed, what a view presents itself! The long perspective of the bay, the densely wooded hills and lower slopes teeming with agricultural produce, rich corn-fields, ripe for the sickle; picturesque dwellings, hid in shadowy foliage, and flowers and fruit trees, to which the purity and rarity of the atmosphere lend a brilliancy of colouring and distinctness of outline, impossible to describe; the clear blue water, with here and there a quaint and curious-looking junk, resting on its gla.s.sy and reflecting surface; the town, sweeping around the sh.o.r.es of the bay; and, afar, the majesty of hill and vale; such, dear reader, is a weak and very imperfect word picture of the charming bay of Omura.
Recent events in j.a.pan have taken such a remarkable turn, that history, neither ancient nor modern, presents no parallel with it. That we may have a more adequate conception of the j.a.pan of to-day, it is absolutely necessary that we make some acquaintance with the j.a.pan of the past.
Of the origin of the people we can gleam very little, except from the questionable source of tradition. Several theories are advanced to account for their existence here. One authority discovers in them the long-lost ”lost tribes of Israel;” according to another, they are a branch of the great American-Indian family; both of which statements we had better accept with caution. Their own theory--or rather that of the aborigines, the Anos of Yeso,--a race whom the indefatigable Miss Bird has recently brought prominently before the world--states that the G.o.ddess of the celestial universe, a woman of incomparable beauty and great accomplishments, came eastward to seek out the most beautiful spot for a terrestrial residence, and at length chose j.a.pan, where she spent her time in cultivating the silkworm, and in the Diana-like pursuits of the chase; until one day, as she stood beside a beautiful stream, admiring her fair form in its reflecting surface, she was startled by the sudden appearance of a large dog. Tremblingly she hid herself, but the dog sought her out, and, to her surprise, entered into conversation with her, and finally into a more intimate alliance. From the union of these two opposite natures--according to this account--the Anos are descended.
One other tradition I will mention--the Chinese--which perhaps has something of the truth in it. According to it, a certain emperor of China, ruminating on the brevity of human life, and of his own in particular, thought it possible to find a means whereby his pleasant existence might be indefinitely prolonged. To this end he summoned all the physicians in his kingdom, and ordered them, on pain of forfeiting their heads, to discover this remedy. After much deliberation, one at last hit upon a plan which, if successful, would be the means of saving, at least, his own head. He informed the emperor that in a land to the eastward, across the Yellow Sea, was the panacea he sought; but that, in order to obtain it, it was necessary to fit out a s.h.i.+p, with a certain number of young virgins, and an equal number of young men of pure lives, as a propitiatory offering to the stern guardian of the ”elixir of life.” The s.h.i.+p sailed, freighted as desired, and after a few days reached the western sh.o.r.es of j.a.pan, from whence, you will readily imagine, the wily sage never returned. These young men and maidens became the ancestors of the j.a.panese race.
Their form of government was despotic in its character, and feudal in its system. The country was governed by a powerful ruler with the t.i.tle of mikado--”son of the sun”--who was supported in his despotism by tributary princes, or daimios. Of them the mikado demanded military service in time of war, and also compelled them to reside a part of each year in his capital, where quarters were provided for them and their numerous retainers in the neighbourhood of the palace. The visitor may still see whole streets in Tokio without a single inhabitant, the former residences of the daimios' followers, and the aspect is dreary in the extreme.
In addition to his temporal functions, the mikado has always been the great high priest of the Sintor faith. On the breaking out of a war with China, it was found that his attendance with the army would deprive the religion of its spiritual head, and so indispensable was his presence in the great temple, that such a deprivation would be little short of a calamity. In this dilemma, he called to his aid the general of his forces, an able warrior and a shrewd designing man, conferred on him the hereditary t.i.tle of s.h.i.+o-goon, or tyc.o.o.n, and despatched him at the head of the army to carry fire and sword into the coasts of China. This prince's name was Tycosama, a name great in j.a.pan's history, and destined to become terrible to the Christians. As generally happens, when a clever soldier with a devoted army at his back is placed in such a position, he finds it but a step to supreme dominion, the army being a pretty conclusive argument in his favor. His first act was the removal of the mikado to the holy city, Kioto, where henceforth he was kept secluded, and hemmed in by so much mystery, that the people began to look upon their ancient ruler as little less than a G.o.d.
It will be readily imagined that the tyc.o.o.ns, by their arrogant a.s.sumption to the imperial dignity, made for themselves many enemies amongst the powerful daimios. The disaffected united to form a party of reaction which, in the end, overthrew the tyc.o.o.n, restored the mikado to his ancient splendour, and gave j.a.pan to the world. In 1853, an American squadron, under Commodore Perry, came to Yokohama, and demanded a trade treaty with the United States. After much circ.u.mlocution he obtained one, thus pioneering a way for the Europeans. England demanded one the following year, and got it; then followed the other maritime nations of Europe, but these treaties proved to be of as little value as the paper on which they were drawn up.
The adherents of the tyc.o.o.n displayed a bitter animosity against the foreigner, and especially a most powerful daimio, the prince of Satsuma, who nourished a detestable hatred to Europeans. Through the machinations of this party, murders of foreigners, resident in Yokohama, were of almost daily occurrence, till at last the British consul fell a victim to their hatred. This brought matters to a head. In 1863, England declared war against j.a.pan; blockaded the Inland Seas with a combined squadron of English, French, Dutch, and American s.h.i.+ps, acting under the orders of Admiral Keuper, stormed and captured Simonoseki, and burnt Kagosima, the capital of the prince of Satsuma. Having brought the j.a.panese to their senses, we demanded of them a war indemnity, half of which was to be paid by Satsuma.
Five years pa.s.sed. The mikado meanwhile had placed himself at the head of the reactionary party, pensioned the tyc.o.o.n, and made rapid advancement in European manners and customs. In 1868, Satsuma and his party broke out into open rebellion against the mikado. But the prince's levies were no match for the imperial troops, armed with the snider, and the result was the rebellion, after some sanguinary battles, was put down, the estates of the rebels confiscated, and the chief actors in the drama banished to distant parts of the empire.
There, dear reader, I am as glad as you that I have finished spinning that yarn. Now for the legitimate narrative.
Nagasaki, or more correctly Nangasaki, is a town of considerable magnitude, skirting the sh.o.r.es of the bay, and built in the form of an amphitheatre. On the terraces above the town, several large temples with graceful, fluted, tent-like roofs, embowered in sombre and tranquil pine groves, shew out distinctly against the dark background, whilst the thousands of little granite monumental columns of the burying grounds, stud the hills on every side, giving to Nagasaki almost a distinct feature.