Tokyo Bay

by Anthony Grey

  ‘The commodore and his squadron intend to remain here until the letter from our President is properly delivered,’ he said firmly. ‘We have come here precisely because this bay lies close to your Emperor’s palace in Yedo. And although the commodore desires nothing more than the friendship of Japan, he is not prepared to see his country or his President suffer any indignity.’

  Rice paused to allow translation, never removing his gaze from the face of the vice-governor. When he understood what had been said, the Japanese laughed uneasily and began to make a reply - but the flag lieutenant held up his hand to indicate he had not finished.

  ‘We suggest a properly appointed representative of the Emperor be sent aboard this ship as soon as possible here in Yedo Bay,’ he continued in a warning tone. ‘He will receive a copy of our President’s letter. Then the commodore will be prepared to land with an escort and deliver the original formally himself, at a properly appointed time.’

  Robert Eden watched the faces of the five Japanese intently while the flag Lieutenants words were being translated. As the full significance of their meaning dawned on the interpreter and his superior, their demeanour became more grave, their expressions more impenetrable. The handsome features of Prince Tanaka remained blank and inexpressive, but his eyes hardened too as comprehension dawned. At his side the two unarmed escorts exchanged quick glances; then Daizo Yakamochi looked round calculatingly at each of the Americans in turn, before lowering his eyes to the floor once more.

  ‘And whilst I am speaking of armed men: continued Rice, ‘I must give you a solemn warning. We don’t intend to allow your guard-boats to surround us much longer. We will not be spied upon or hounded whilst we are here.’

  The vice-governor shifted to the very edge of his seat as the translation was completed. ‘The presence of our guard-boats is in accordance with Japanese custom and law: he said insistently. ‘We must obey our laws and carry them out.’

  ‘It is my duty then to inform you that the United States Navy also has its own customs and laws:

  replied Rice. ‘Where our men-of-war are involved, there are laws that forbid other boats from approaching within a certain range.’ He paused to add emphasis to what he was about to say. ‘You should also know we take it upon ourselves to enforce these laws most stringently.’

  The vice-governor again consulted hurriedly with his interpreter in whispers, then he sat formally upright on his chair to address the American officer. ‘I demand that you inform us what is the name of this ship - and how many men and guns does it carry?’

  Rice in his turn sat up straighter behind the polished table. ‘I need only remind you that we are armed ships and our custom is never to answer such questions. Furthermore I must now demand that you act on what I’ve said. You must go on deck and order your guard-boats to stand off and return to shore. If you don’t give such orders, we shall proceed to fire into them.’

  Rice paused and took out a fob watch from inside his jacket. After looking at it for a moment he turned to Midshipman Harris and gave him instructions loud enough for the Japanese to hear.

  ‘Go to the upper deck immediately, Mr. Harris, and give orders for two armed cutters to be launched! If the Japanese guard-boats have not withdrawn to the shore fifteen minutes from now, our crews are to fire at selected targets with their prow howitzers! Is that quite clear?’

  ‘Very clear, sir!’

  The midshipman rushed from the cabin and Rice looked calmly towards the vice-governor. ‘We will allow you fifteen minutes to give your orders. At the end of that time, if the guard-boats are still here, their crews will begin to suffer. The choice is yours.’

  The Japanese official leaned towards his interpreter and conferred agitatedly with him. After a brief interval Lieutenant Rice rose briskly to his feet.

  ‘I will take you now to the spar deck, where you will see for yourselves the strength of our armaments. This will enable you to observe that we are in earnest - and from there you may order your guard-boats to retreat!’

  Rice picked up his sword, reslung it on his belt and strode from the cabin, with Armstrong and the remaining midshipmen at his heels. The two Japanese officials rose hurriedly from their chairs to follow Robert Eden brought up the rear, falling into step close behind the three samurai. As they passed the marine sentries who had been stationed outside the officers’ cabins and climbed the port ladders, Eden kept the Japanese warriors under close scrutiny, watching especially the tall, fierce-eyed figure of Lord Daizo’s anonymous son, who continued to hold his right arm clamped unnaturally close against his chest.

  On the spar deck, the port gun crews were still at action stations, and Lieutenant Rice led the Japanese party quickly along the ranks of blue-jacketed marines who remained drawn up in their battle formations. They held long carbines at the ready, their bayonets glittering in the afternoon sun, and each man was gazing watchfully towards the circling guard-boats.

  ‘You may inspect our guns and ammunition if you wish,’ said Rice tersely, pausing beside one of the massive muzzle-loading cannons and its ominous pyramid of gleaming black roundshot. ‘Then I hope you will understand our resources with the utmost clarity’

  The vice-governor paused and stared with great absorption at the cannon, which had been run back from its open port. On an impulse he bent over and attempted to lift one of the roundshot - but was unable to shift it. With his fingers spread to their widest extent he assessed the width of the cannon’s bore, murmuring details over his shoulder to his escorts, who were studying the powerful weapon with equal curiosity The interpreter drew a pad from his sleeve and jotted down several notes about the gun, then watched the vice-governor crouch down and peer directly into its barrel The envoy turned with a look of amazement when he saw that his whole head would fit easily into its gaping muzzle, and the interpreter noted that hastily on his pad.

  ‘This is what we call a sixty-four-pound cannon,’ declared Rice soberly ‘Its overall length is eleven feet three inches. Each shot weighs over sixty-four pounds, and its bore is fully eighteen inches. The range of this gun - and of all our guns - is very long indeed. They would easily destroy any target ashore that we chose to aim at.’

  The vice-governor glanced along the upper deck towards the other gun positions, his face taut with tension. He looked round once again at the well- drilled marine force, then turned to murmur anxiously to his interpreter.

  ‘The vice-governor would like to ask how many guns like this you have?’ said Haniwara Tokuma. ‘And are all your weapons as powerful?’

  ‘We have more than sufficient guns for our purpose - that is all you need to know,’ snapped the flag lieutenant, glancing significantly at his pocket watch once more. ‘Now your time is running out. Kindly come to the side and order all your guard-boats to head for the shore.’

  Rice beckoned for the Japanese to follow and ushered them towards the open entry port, where they would be clearly visible. The vice-governor stepped hesitantly to his side and stood looking down at the dozens of craft milling noisily below. His appearance before the open port immediately provoked a new storm of chanting and yelling from the Japanese guards, and several sleek craft started again towards the foot of the gang-ladder, anticipating that permission to board had been obtained.

  ‘Umike e kaere!’ called the vice-governor shrilly, puffing his fan from his wide sleeve and flapping it emphatically to warn the boats away ‘Umike e kaere! Withdraw at once to the shore!’

  The furious shouting quickly became ragged and confused, but did not subside altogether. Some of the guard-boats turned and began to draw away, but others - whose crews had either not heard or were set on defiance - continued to move closer. Seeing this, the Japanese official waved his fan more frantically, and repeated his order: ‘Umike e kaere! Umike e kaere!’

  At that instant Daizo Yakamochi, who was standing a few feet behind the vice-governor, straightened up fully for the first time since boarding the Susquehanna. He took two quick paces forward, h
is eyes fixed on the unprotected back of the American flag lieutenant, who was still staring out over the rail. His left hand groped into the opposite sleeve of his kimono and he was in the act of withdrawing it when Robert Eden clamped an arm silently around his neck from behind.

  Thrusting his own left hand into the sleeve of the kimono, Eden encountered the fingers of the Japanese encircling the hilt of a short sword. Tightening his strangulating grip on Yakamochi’s throat, Eden wrenched hard with his other hand, and tore the sword free. It fell to the deck and, on looking round, Eden saw Prince Tanaka bend quickly to retrieve it. Tanaka’s face was flushed with anger but, to Eden’s surprise, it was focused entirely on the samurai still struggling helplessly in his grasp.

  ‘Baka me! You fool!’ breathed Tanaka. ‘Baka na koto o shita suro na! That was an act of great foolishness!’

  Still staring furiously at Yakamochi, Tanaka thrust the fallen sword safely into his sash beside his own weapons; then he raised his eyes to gaze wordlessly at Eden.

  ‘Hanto ni baka dana,’ said the American officer very quietly, pronouncing the recently learned Japanese words slowly and carefully. ‘It was indeed very foolish!’

  Glancing up quickly, Eden saw that all the other men around them had their backs turned. Oblivious to what had happened just a few feet away, they were watching intently as one of the Susquehanna’s cutters swung down towards the water below. The boat, carrying a dozen armed marines, also had a brass eight-inch howitzer mounted in its bows, and as soon as it settled on the water the oarsmen dipped their blades and brought the cannon to bear on its nearest target. This manoeuvre drove off the remaining guard-boats within seconds and a loud cheer rang out from the marines and gun crews lining the bulwarks above.

  ‘I release him into your trust,’ continued Eden quietly in Japanese, loosening his grip on Daizo Yakamochi and pushing him towards Tanaka. As he spoke, Eden unbuttoned his holster and eased the butt of his Colt pistol into view. ‘We have no wish to shed blood, but we’ll protect ourselves as necessary if we are attacked!’

  For a second or two Tanaka stared uncertainly at Eden, as though taken aback by the American officer’s puzzling actions. Then he moved quickly to place himself in front of the glowering son of Lord Daizo. Glancing round to check that they were still unobserved, Eden moved a step closer to Tanaka.

  ‘You need say nothing of this! he said in an undertone. ‘Just make sure there’s no more foolishness!’

  ‘That action was not authorized,’ murmured Tanaka, still staring straight ahead. ‘It was an unfortunate act of impulse . .

  The roar of the cutter’s howitzer exploding broke in on his words and new cries of outrage rose from the retreating guard-boats, amidst renewed cheering from the Susquehanna. Stepping closer to the entry port, Eden looked out and saw that smoke was drifting lazily from the howitzer’s muzzle, but there was no sign of any stricken Japanese boat on the flat waters of the bay, and he guessed that a warning shot had been fired across somebody’s bows. Most of the guard-boats were heading rapidly towards the shore, though a select few retreated a safe distance to keep a discreet watch on the American warships.

  The faces of the vice-governor and Haniwara Tokuma had turned pale and after a whispered exchange, the interpreter motioned with his fan to show that they wished to descend the gang-ladder immediately.

  ‘It is appropriate for us to leave now,’ he said in Dutch, eyeing Rice and Armstrong uncomfortably. As he spoke he signalled towards the chief boatman below, indicating he should prepare to take them ashore at once. ‘The vice-governor wishes to inform you that an official of higher rank will come out for further discussions with you tomorrow morning. But for a full answer he says you must wait at least three days.’

  They hurried away down the gang-ladder without waiting for any response, followed by their three samurai escorts. Eden watched warily as Yakamochi approached the entry port; but his dark, sharp- featured face was sullenly impassive, and he avoided Eden’s gaze as he climbed down into the waiting guard-boat.

  Tanaka was the last to leave, and as he passed in front of Eden he paused for the briefest of moments. ‘Taihen on ni na ru,’ he said quietly, looking Eden directly in the eye. ‘Sumimasen!’

  Because the words were uttered very softly for his ears only, Eden was not able immediately to construe a clear meaning from them. He mulled over in his mind what he thought he had heard, as he watched Tanaka descend into the waiting boat; but the samurai did not speak further or look back, and Eden had to content himself with trying to commit the words to memory.

  As the boat pulled away, he heard Lieutenant Rice heave a deep sigh of relief. A warlike clamour still rose from the cliffs and beaches, and some guard boats were still keeping watch from a respectful distance; but a broad expanse of empty water had been established around the warships, and only the movement of the envoy’s guard-boat pulling towards the shore now broke its mirror calm.

  ‘Do you think we’ve avoided a war, Mr. Armstrong?’ asked Rice. ‘It seemed a close run thing there at times.’

  Samuel Armstrong nodded, then re-lit his pipe, puffing a cloud of fragrant tobacco smoke into the warm evening air. ‘I think we have, Lieutenant - at least for the moment.’

  None of the Japanese occupants of the guard- boat raised their heads to look back at the watching Americans as they retreated from the flagship, except for the disguised Prince Tanaka. From time to time he stared towards the entry port where Robert Eden was standing and his demeanour suggested he was still trying to come to terms with all that had happened on board. As the departing boat grew smaller, Eden in his turn found he was constantly replaying in his mind the words the young samurai had uttered before disembarking. But they continued to defeat his attempts at translation, and he watched the tasselled boat fade into the evening, still puzzling over their meaning.

  9

  AS DUSK CLOSED in around the modest village inn where she was being held under guard, Matsumura Tokiwa paced restlessly back and forth across her bare room. Dressed only in a light under-kimono of white gauze, she held her slender arms clenched agitatedly about her own waist and her beautiful face was pale and distraught.

  The tramp of feet on the road through the village had lessened, but from time to time she stopped pacing to listen to the closer night sounds of the two-storeyed inn, which was filled to capacity with anxious travellers. In the next room a male voice was chanting a Buddhist prayer in a high, desperate sounding monotone; from not far away she recognized the jangle of an inexpertly plucked samisen; more distantly cymbals clashed and drums were being beaten over snatches of discordant song, and a story-teller’s voice sometimes raised itself excitedly above the clamour. Every so often running feet pounded along the corridor beyond her shoji, startling her, and she could hear shrieks and splashing sounds coming from an unseen bathhouse.

  When she paused to peer out through the spyhole she had torn in the rice-paper- screen overlooking the courtyard, she saw the last rays of the setting sun suffusing the pale peak of Mount Fuji with a soft halo of pink light. The sky beyond was already a deep, dark blue, and as always the mood of the sacred mountain seemed to be subtly changing with the advancing hours. In the twilight she imagined that, from the dizzying heights of the summit, its mysterious kami were silently watching and waiting for events in the regions below to clarify themselves.

  Despite the deepening gloom around the inn, her eyes confirmed what her ears had already told her - that the flow of men and animals along the winding tracks had become less frantic in both directions. Civilians were more evident among the dwindling crowds, and she watched a group of horses, richly caparisoned in scarlet cloth and fringed leather, pass the gates of the courtyard, travelling westward, escorted by livened riders and footservants. From the flanks of the horses large open panniers were suspended, and inside the baskets a number of aristocratic children were visible; under the light of the paper lanterns suspended from the gates of the inn, their tiny innocent faces peered eve
r the basket rims, looking strangely composed, and Tokiwa found herself envying the evident comfort and security which surrounded them as they travelled.

  As she watched them jog on confidently into the darkness a vague, unconscious desire that had been growing gradually inside her for an hour or two suddenly became a firm decision: she was not prepared to remain a helpless captive at the inn against her will! Perhaps she was in danger from enemies of Prince Tanaka - but how could she be certain? And how could she be sure that the inn itself was a safe haven? In this confused and bewildering situation she knew instinctively that she was in some danger from Gotaro, the chief guard. So many people were on the move, so many were afraid and at a loss; amidst so much turmoil and frenzied excitement she could not bear to remain isolated at the inn, cut off from all contact with what was happening beyond its walls. She felt confident suddenly that she could protect herself more effectively if she understood better what was happening: she would rather, she decided finally, accept whatever risks were involved and try to escape. If the sacred kami of Mount Fuji were truly waiting and watching to see how events would clarify themselves below, she would show them that she at least could act decisively!

  The long balcony outside her room, she could see, was already in deep shadow. At its far corner there was a fixed ladder leading down into the yard. A guard was posted below, but she calculated that if he dozed off she might be able to get out onto the shadowy balcony unseen and slip away - especially if she could find some disguise. In that moment she wanted more than anything to follow the example of those livened aristocrats’ horses, and disappear quietly into the unknown darkness. Whether she would return to Yedo and the Yoshiwara or travel off in another direction to begin a new life, she did not yet know.

  But the very thought that she might somehow be able to begin a new life filled her heart with an unfamiliar feeling of excitement. Of one thing she was quite certain - an irresistible urge was moving her to do what she had yearne1 for more and more since becoming a geisha: to rebel in some way against the suffocating tradition of unquestioning female obedience under which she had been raised, and which had subsequently pervaded every moment of her life . . . Perhaps, she reflected, she had inherited more of her samurai father’s impetuosity and restlessness than was expected in a compliant elder daughter. . Perhaps it was impossible in reality to fulfill such wild, unspoken desires; but, amid the panic and upheaval that had so suddenly affected everybody in the land, she sensed that seemingly impossible things might now become attainable.