Shades of the Past

by Harold Williams

  Some passengers of the "Bombay" were either so absorbed in their card games or were so intent upon whitewashing the master of that vessel, that they insisted they had hardly been disturbed at their game and they had no idea the "Bombay" had been in a serious collision. On the other hand the Americans alleged that their gunfire of distress signals was heard in Yokohama ten miles away.

  Even on the British side the evidence seems to have been conflicting. The captain of the "Bombay" said: "The 'Oneida' must have been about one mile away from me when I first saw her light;" his second officer said "five or six miles away;" the pilot said "four or five miles." Other parts of the testimony show that all three saw the light at nearly the same instant.

  In many other respects there were similar differences. The captain of the "Bombay" said the speed of the "Oneida" was fourteen knots; his chief officer said eleven or twelve; the pilot said about eight. The Americans contended it was seven. The captain of the "Bombay" said he stopped his engines for about ten minutes, whereas the logbook showed four minutes.

  Tempers and passions flared to such a degree that the American Minister to Japan who attended the Court of Inquiry at one point in the proceedings pointed at the British master of the "Bombay" and thundered his intention to prosecute "that man for whatever crime it might be shown by the evidence he was guilty of," a threat which indicated that His Excellency, who was a lawyer, had for the moment forgotten his law as operating in those times of consular courts. In those days a person could only be prosecuted by his own consular authorities.

  The pilot of the "Bombay" did not calm tempers when he declared that from the way the "Oneida" was steering he thought she was a Japanese vessel.

  No matter what the facts may have been, all nationalities in the Settlement grieved over this most unhappy occurrence.

  Much of what was written at the time added fuel to the bitterness because rightly or wrongly it seemed to indicate that the American warship was at fault. Not so however the U.S. Secretary of the Navy. He wrote to the Speaker of the House of Representatives confirming that, from an examination of all the evidence, including that of the British Court of Inquiry, his Department was of the opinion that no blame attached to the "Oneida."

  A few years later, in 1876, Dr. W.E. Griffis, American missionary and historian, when referring to the loss of the "Oneida" wrote:

  This is sad; but the sequel is disgraceful. Down under the fathoms the 'Oneida' has lain, thus far undisturbed, a rich and grateful Government having failed to trouble itself to raise the ship or do honour to the dead. The hulk was put up at auction and sold in 187b, with certain conditions, to a Japanese for fifteen hundred dollars.

  The depth of water where the "Oneida" sank, being beyond the limit of most divers in Japan in those days, little could be done in the way of salvage. Ill luck seemed to defeat each attempt. It may well have been that the apparent ill luck that seemed to be associated with the enterprise, was the factor which finally convinced the Japanese owners of the wreck that the earlier Buddhist service to placate the spirits of the dead must have been ineffectual. At any rate in 1889, nineteen years after the disaster, they decided to hold a great Buddhist mass for the souls of the unfortunate men—a segaki or feast for hungry souls. The service was held at the Daishin-in Temple at Ikegami near Yokohama, and no expense was spared to enhance the gorgeousness and impressiveness of the scene. Seventy-six priests clad in full Buddhist canonicals chanted the litanies, which reverberated through the great buildings at Ikegami, and were ultimately lost with the incense fumes among the glorious cedar groves surrounding the temple.

  Attending this impressive ceremony was the Admiral of the U.S. Squadron and a contingent of sixty U.S. naval men, the U.S. Consul-General, British Embassy representatives, and over fifty foreign residents in Yokohama and Tokyo. In addition there was a vast Japanese assemblage, and most important of all the Japanese salvage men who were to actually work on the ghost-ridden wreck.

  It was in all truth a remarkable and inspiring requiem service, and one in which the foreign community of the Kwanto area was glad to participate by way of marking an end of the early bitterness that had so divided the American and British sections of the community.

  The foreign press and diarists of the time made much of the ceremony, but apparently they were so close to the event that they failed to understand the ghostly significance of it from the point of view of the salvors and the divers who were about to work on the wreck, around which were gathered, according to their beliefs, the distressed spirits of so many who had come to a sudden and untimely end. Foreign writers at the time described the ceremony in grateful if not somewhat extravagant terms, and closing their eyes to the fact that fifteen years had elapsed spoke of the "spontaneous sympathy" of the Japanese promoters. The latter gentlemen must no doubt have wished that this grand service had been more spontaneous, and that the fifteen years of costly failure had not already been marked up against their enterprise.

  The promoters also erected a stone monument with metal lettering to commemorate the ceremony, but during the First World War, when metal prices reached high levels, some vandals stole the lettering.

  During the sixty-five years that have elapsed since that service was held for the spirits of the dead, the salavage rights have changed hands several times, and much nonsense has appeared in the press, but the hulk still remains embedded in the sand, and encrusted with barnacles and seaweed.

  What, however, has become more important is the legend that has grown up, or perhaps has been inspired by company promoters, that the "Oneida" was carrying a large sum in Japanese gold koban (currency) said to have been equivalent in value at that time to about U.S. $400,000. If such treasure exists it would, of course, be worth a great deal more to-day. The story, whether inspired or otherwise, is seemingly the incentive for various salvage enterprises that have continued over the years, some of which have ended in bankruptcy. Some deck equipment, some bones, a few cutlasses and other relics, but no treasure, have been recovered. As the salvage rights changed hands, so the new owners have generally commenced their operations with further services for the peace of the spirits of the unfortunate men who were lost.

  At the moment there are in fact two rival groups, each claiming to have the rights of salvage and not a few investors, all of whom hope one day to receive dividends when the imaginary gold treasure in the "Oneida" is recovered. One group having lost faith in the efficacy of the Buddhist gods, as have many others who have deserted religion since Japan's defeat, recently conducted a Christian service after giving much advance publicity, thereby hoping that by this new approach to a difficult problem in salvage they could keep hot the enthusiasm of their financial backers.

  The U.S. authorities have never admitted that there was any treasure on board. It seems unlikely they would have sold a wreck for $1,500 had they known that $400,000 of gold was on board.

  In the days and months and years that followed this tragic sinking many of the bodies, or at least the bones, of those who lost their lives were recovered—-some washed ashore, others taken from the wreck,—and were interred in the Yokohama Bluff Cemetery where they have long since been marked by a fine memorial stone. The feelings aroused by that tragic happening when the British and American sections of the community were split apart, were so bitter and lived so long that even when the time came to erect the memorial the bitterness of the past could not be forgotten. In the wording that was engraved in stone there is no word of collision, but the stark accusation that the "Bombay" sank the "Oneida." And so the bitter feelings of three-quarters of a century ago, although happily now long since forgotten, will remain engraved in granite as long as the tombstones stand in the old Yokohama Foreign Cemetery.

  THE

  CASE

  OF

  THE

  "MARIA LUZ"

  Once upon a time Japan was on the brink of war with Peru of all countries, with Portugal hurling threats from the sidelines, and with Britain and America
advising Japan to stand firm. The issue was that of slavery.

  The year was 1872. Queen Victoria was then the sovereign in England, and Ulysses Simpson Grant was president of the United States. The Abolition of Slavery Act had been passed in England about forty years earlier. In the United States the Civil War had been fought and the North had won on the issue of slavery. Alexander II, the Czar of Russia, at the time, had come to be known as the liberator of serfs, but possibly even before the liberation there were fewer slaves there than now. Emperor Meiji of Japan, then only twenty years of age, ruled a country where, in theory at least, the only slaves were the inmates of the licenced quarters.

  The trouble with Peru all started on July 7, 1872, when a decrepit tub, a Peruvian barque named the "Maria Luz," although only a week or so out of Macao, limped into Yokohama to refit, or at least to carry out the minimum amount of repairs that would offer her a reasonable chance of crawling back to her home port in Peru without involving the officers and crew in too great a risk. She had on board, battened under deck, 232 Chinese coolies who were treated with as much, or less, consideration than so many cattle. Except that they represented so much freight, their fate was not important.

  They were but one shipload of that human freight which was being shipped out of the Portuguese colony of Macao as slave labour for South American countries. The cruelty with which that coolie traffic was carried on, the fraudulent promises with which the Chinese were enticed on board or forcibly kidnapped, and the abominable conditions in the barracoons of Macao were notorious, but little could be done to interfere with the traffic, because the sailing vessels carrying the slaves, sailed from Macao direct to the ports of Peru. The trade brought a large annual revenue to Macao, and by it Peru obtained a cheap supply of forced labour for the guano diggings and the gold and silver mines.

  A few evenings after the "Maria Luz" had anchored in Yokohama harbour, one of the Chinese succeeded in dropping overboard and swam two miles to the British warship "Iron Duke" where he appealed for protection. He was in turn passed on to the British Consul, who, having no jurisdiction in the matter, had to hand him on to the Japanese authorities. They returned him to the ship, where he was severely punished and had his queue cut off.

  A few days later another coolie who had succeeded in getting away came alongside the H.M.S. "Iron Duke." On this occasion a collection was taken up for the refugee after which he was set at liberty, instead of being handed over to the Japanese authorities. The case was, however, reported to the British Consul, who after visiting the "Maria Luz" made representations to the Kanagawa authorities, urging on them their duty not to permit "the Government to be disgraced by affording the smallest possible countenance to the abominable traffic in which the 'Maria Luz' was engaged." At that time Peru had no treaty with Japan; consequently the "Maria Luz" had become subject to Japanese jurisdiction from the time she entered Japanese waters.

  The Chinese on board thereupon claimed protection of the Japanese and asked for an investigation into the fraudulent manner in which the Portuguese had shipped them away from China. While the investigation was being conducted the Chinese had been landed. The captain of the "Maria Luz" then brought an action for indemnity, or alternatively asked that the Chinese be forced to proceed with the vessel and fulfill their contracts. The case was heard in open court where the coolies gave evidence of their kidnapping and that none desired to go to Peru. The defence on the other hand introduced into their case the form of indenture under which the girls in Japanese licenced quarters were bound, and they sought to show that it was not much different to that under which the coolies had been engaged. This manoeuvre proved most embarrassing to the Governor of Kanagawa Prefecture and other officials who were present in the court, and when Counsel for the Defence, who was well conversant with the Japanese language, began to read the form of contract entered into between prostitutes and their owners, he was stopped by the President of the Court before he had read half the document.

  Some of the Powers brought pressure to bear on Japan not to interfere in the matter, but she had the strong moral support of the British and United States representatives, and resisted such pressure. Judgement was given against the master of the barque for the Chinese, who were now ordered to be released. Later they were repatriated to China by the Chinese government.

  In the meantime Peru despatched her most powerful ironclad, the "Independencia," and several other vessels, and also a mission to demand an apology and an indemnity from the Japanese. When it was hinted that a British fleet would await their arrival in Japan, the Peruvian vessels were recalled, but the mission came on and subsequently agreed to the submission of the question to arbitration by the Czar of Russia. His decision given a year or so later was wholly in favour of Japan.

  The verdict was hailed by abolitionists everywhere as a great victory against slavery, which of course it was. It brought about important changes in many places. It roused China to taking more effective measures to protect her nationals. Portugal under the compelling force of world opinion was roused to forbid the traffic, at least in Macao, with the result that the infamous barracoons there soon fell into decay.

  In Japan it stirred the hopes of some liberals for legislation that would free from bondage the inmates of the licenced quarters, and although an edict on the subject was soon after issued, the vested money interests were so powerful that twenty-eight years elapsed before a law was passed enabling any girl to free herself by a mere declaration of that intention to the police. But even so, the power of the moneyed interests, and the demands of the internal revenue bureau for a "cut" in the profits, were so powerful that it required the untiring efforts of a section of the Japanese public over a period of another half a century before more effective legislation was passed to free those trapped within the Nightless Cities.

  THE

  BURNING

  OF

  THE

  S.S. "AMERICA"

  Which I wish to remark,

  And my language is plain,

  That for ways that are dark

  And for tricks that are vain,

  The heathen Chinee is peculiar.

  BRET HARTE

  A little over a hundred years ago it was a violation of the laws of Japan for a United States ship to enter Japanese waters. It was against the law for any but Dutch and some Chinese vessels to come to Japan. Certainly a few American ships under charter to the Dutch East India Company had slipped in. One, impudently pretending to be the annual Dutch vessel, came in, did some trade, and got out again in safety. Other vessels were not so fortunate.

  There were pressing reasons to compel Japan to change her laws, to desist from turning away ships in distress, and to open her country to trade. Gold had been discovered in California, which in turn had led to a great development in Pacific trade. American investments in the whaling industry had reached large figures, and of all ships the whalers had suffered most when they put into Japanese ports in distress, or in search of water and supplies. The vessels were fired upon by shore batteries, and the crews, if captured, were thrown into prison. Railroads were beginning to stretch across America. Trade with China was increasing rapidly. The era of steam had arrived, but the voyage from San Francisco to China was inconveniently long; intermediate coaling stations in Japan were required.

  Commodore Biddle, when he landed with the idea of persuading the Japanese to change their laws, was flung back into his own boat by a Japanese guard, and much "face" was lost. There were several other attempts that came to nothing. Then Commodore Perry determined he would not fail.

  And so it came about that Japan changed her laws and the country was opened to foreign trade. At first one or two schooners made occasional trips from Nagasaki and Yokohama to San Francisco taking tea and bringing back general cargo. Some mail was sent by those vessels, with duplicate copies being routed via Suez. As the Suez Canal was not then completed, such mail and also passengers had to be transported overland from Suez to Alexandria. In cou
rse of time the Pacific Mail Steamship Company opened a service from China and Japan to San Francisco. The voyage from Yokohama to San Francisco took 21 days as against about 10 days to-day. From San Francisco passengers could travel by rail across the continent to New York. The first-class fare from Nagasaki right through to New York was U.S. $428.50 as compared with about U.S. $700 to-day. The railroad journey from San Francisco to New York took 6 days and 20 hours, as against about 3 1/2 days now. In 1872 there were four regular Pacific sailings a month. Those mail steamers touched at Nagasaki and Yokohama. Kobe was not as then sufficiently important for Pacific Mail steamers to call at, but Kobe was growing fast and soon would be.

  In 1872 one of the vessels on the run was the fabulous wooden paddle steamer "America." She was 4,454 tons register, 363 feet long and had cost what was then the stupendous sum of U.S. $1,600,000. She was double-planked and the largest wooden ship in the world. She arrived at Yokohama on the morning August 24, 1872. Coaling and the discharge of cargo commenced shortly after arrival. That same night fire broke out among thirty-five bundles of hay, which were intended for use on the homeward voyage, and which were stored in the after part of the steerage near the hatchway. Fire hoses were run out but little water came through them. It was suggested later on that the pressure of steam had been permitted to fall, but there were some, including the company officials, who thought the hoses may have been tampered with.