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.
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.”