5

‘ACTION STATIONS!’
Robert Eden yelled his order sharply, and watched eagle-eyed as his gun crews surged towards the row of massive sixty-four-pound cannon drawn up before the open firing embrasures on the port side.
‘Load shot - and prime!’ he shouted, and nodded with satisfaction as the crewmen ‘wielded their ramming poles with lightning speed to force charges of gunpowder, wadding and huge balls of cast-iron round shot into the gaping muzzles of the guns. As soon as this had been done, slender friction tubes with lanyards hanging loose were dropped into the rear touch-holes, readying the guns for use.
‘Run out!’ barked Eden, striding quickly along the deck, his hand gripping his sword hilt.
As one man, the sailors strained and heaved at the thick ropes threaded through block-and-tackle fittings on the wheeled wooden gun-carriages. In deadly unison the long muzzles of the guns slid out through the bulwarks of the Susquehanna and nosed threateningly towards the Japanese shore. Eden had been timing each action with his pocket watch, and he counted off the seconds loudly to hasten their actions. While the sweating sailors were still checking the breech ropes that restrained the guns on recoil, he drew his sword, flourished it aloft for all to see, and shouted the final order.
‘Fire!’
Leading gunners moved swiftly forward to seize the lanyards of the friction tubes that hung from the vent holes. But, instead of tugging sharply at the cords to fire a match and ignite the gunpowder charges, they merely tapped the stocks of the cannons lightly with their hands before turning away to simulate the evasive action they would have taken if the guns had genuinely fired.
Nodding his approval, Eden moved quickly from one gun to another, speaking a few words of encouragement and praise to each group of gunners in turn. Drills had been ordered every hour during the voyage up the bay, and the gun crews, keyed up by the tension, were already working to their highest pitch of efficiency. When he had finished his rounds, Eden halted and stooped low to gaze out along the barrel of one of the cannons. He saw that the waters of Yedo Bay were dotted more thickly than ever with the dark shapes of Japanese craft. Amongst the slower-moving fishing and cargo junks he noticed a growing number of long, sleek guard-boats that were being propelled forward swiftly and expertly by their crews. As the boats drew nearer, he could see that each one was rowed by six or eight Japanese stripped to the waist. The men were standing upright at their task, facing forward and swinging the whole weight of their slender bodies in unflagging unison to ply the oars. All of the boats, he noticed, were decked with coloured pennants and streamers, and identical insignia flags bearing Japanese characters fluttered at their sterns.
Seated in each boat was a force of twenty soldiers commanded by two officers standing fore and aft. The fighting men wore leather body armour, wide- sleeved cloth jackets and loose trousers. Some clutched muskets in their hands, and all wore twin swords in the sashes of their garments. Their narrow- eyed faces, Eden could see, were set in hostile expressions, and their mouths were wide open. Although no other sound was audible above the thud and roar of the warships’ engines, both oarsmen and warriors were chanting and roaring under the direction of the officers who gestured belligerently towards the American vessels.
Another boat caught his eye, heading with greater determination than the others through the mêlée. Black ornamental tassels hung from its bows, and it contained half a dozen sword-carrying samurai who were glaring aggressively towards the US ships. The heads of the warriors were distinctively shaven and pigtails were coiled in topknots on their heads, but amongst them Eden could see a group of unarmed officials dressed in brightly coloured silk gowns and black-lacquered bonnets.
As he watched, the brawny, bare-chested oarsmen redoubled their efforts, straining to match the steam frigate’s speed through the turbulent waters that were still being churned white by its huge paddle-wheels. The unflagging determination of the Japanese rowers was evident in their fiercely knitted brows and rippling muscles, and after a minute or two of this intense effort they pulled their craft ahead of the flagship and turned to manoeuvre close in beneath the port bow, where its rail was lowered.
‘They’re going to try and board us,’ said a firm voice at Eden’s side. ‘Prepare a squad to fend them off with pikes!’
Eden turned to find Lieutenant Rice standing close behind him. His eyes were fixed intently on the intruding longboat and he continued to watch it as he spoke.
‘Commodore Perry intends to keep the squadron moving very steadily up the bay. We shall anchor before the township of Uraga. Until then, his orders are that nobody should be allowed to board us without observing the strictest standards of respect and protocol. But you are all to use the utmost discretion. We don’t want to provoke a fight to the death.’
Eden nodded quickly and turned to his nearest gun crew. Gesturing towards the sharpened pikestaffs stacked in a pyramid on the deck nearby, he spoke to the men briskly, without shouting.
‘Gun drills are finished! Arm yourselves now with pikes. This is the real thing!’
The flattened steel of the pike heads glittered and flashed in the sun as the sailors seized one apiece, then looked expectantly towards Eden.
‘Prepare to repel boarders on the port side!’ he snapped, and led the squad in a dash along the deck to the nearest open gunport.
Without fuss he formed the men quickly into a tight line and, bracing themselves, they thrust their pikes out threateningly towards the encroaching guard-boat. All over the ship similar orders were shouted, and within moments all the gunports and rails of the Susquehanna were bristling with clusters of pike blades.
Amidships in the heaving Japanese boat, an official wearing a gown of sea-green silk had stood up. On catching sight of Eden’s gold-braided officer’s cap above him, he plucked a giant scroll from his sleeve. Holding it up above his head with one hand, he let it fall open vertically, and gestured with his free hand in Eden’s direction. The turbulence created by the Susquehanna’s huge paddle-wheels caused the Japanese boat to pitch and toss, but the official managed to remain upright and he turned so that the words on the scroll became fully visible. At first sight they appeared to be written in English but, as the boat moved nearer, Eden could see that a message had been scrawled in large letters in some other European language. From the bridge platform built athwart ships between the two giant paddle-wheels
Eden heard the sonorous tones of Matthew Perry asking his interpreter to decipher the scroll for him.
‘It’s in Dutch, Commodore,’ replied Samuel Armstrong, the China missionary-linguist who had joined the ship somewhat reluctantly at Hong Kong to act as the squadron’s interpreter. ‘It says: “Depart at once! Foreign ships are forbidden to anchor here.” What shall I reply?’
‘Say nothing at all!’ commanded Perry, who was taking care to remain invisible to the Japanese. ‘We shall ignore all inappropriate communication.’
After waiting in vain for a response, the Japanese official rewound the scroll around its batons and secured it with ribbons. Along with all his fellow occupants of the moving boat, he continued to stare intently up at the American sailors, as though trying to turn the warships from their aggressive progress by a silent act of will. On realizing that his message was to be completely ignored, the same official suddenly began making further dramatic gestures.
First he pointed angrily towards the Susquehanna’s anchor, then towards the mouth of the bay, clearly urging the warships to turn back to sea again. To augment his demand, he drew back his arm and sent the furled scroll wheeling in a high arc over the port bulwark. It clattered onto the deck, close to the gun crew, and one man quickly laid aside his pikestaff to rush over and pick it up. He handed it to Eden, who immediately looked up towards the bridge platform for guidance.
‘Toss it back to them right away, Lieutenant; boomed the still invisible Perry ‘We don’t want it aboard.’
After a moment of hesitation Eden leaned out through the gunport and looked down into the guard-boat below. Beside the official in the green gown, he noticed a topknotted samurai staring up at him unblinkingly. The samurai’s expression was watchful and intensely curious, rather than hostile, but this first sight of a Japanese warrior close up reminded Eden immediately of his dream and of the fierce male face that had appeared so startlingly in the mirror in place of his own. Although this face was not identical to the one in his dream, Eden could only stare in surprise, and Prince Tanaka - now disguised in the plain brown kimono of a lower- ranking samurai - found himself equally fascinated by this first real glimpse of a foreign barbarian officer.
Their eyes remained locked on each other for several seconds, then with a gentle flick of his wrist, Eden threw the scroll down towards the boat, aiming it for the same seated samurai who had only to lift his right arm to catch the scroll cleanly. Tanaka’s watchful expression did not change and, after returning the document to the grave-faced interpreter seated behind him, he continued to stare steadily back at Eden.
At his side, however, the green-robed official grew more furious at this summary rejection of his demand, and above the uproar of the Susquehanna’s churning wheels he began yelling one word over and over.
‘Nagasaki! Nagasaki! Nagasaki!’
‘They’re trying to indicate, I think, Commodore, that we should return five hundred miles to Nagasaki,’ called the voice of Samuel Armstrong. ‘Do you wish to give any response?’
‘None whatsoever,’ roared Perry. ‘My orders stand:
Continue to ignore all improper communication and allow no encroachment whatsoever on our ships!’
Watching tensely through his gunport, Eden saw that the rejection of the scroll had induced a new frenzy of movement around the Susquehanna and the other three warships. A number of fortified junks had appeared, their high fore and aft decks crowded with fighting men bearing spears, lances and cross- bows. More of the sleek guard-boats, which seemed to skim effortlessly across the surface of the bay under the skilful manipulation of their standing oarsmen, were putting out from the shore to augment the throng of craft closing around the American ships. The shouting that had gradually become audible above the pounding of the steam engines increased suddenly, and at that moment Eden saw three guard- boats peel off from the encircling ring of craft and begin darting towards the bows of the slow-moving flagship.
‘Here they come,’ called the voice of Lieutenant Rice from the bridge rails. ‘All hands steady now’
As the guard-boats arrived under the moving bows of the Susquehanna, lines tipped with grappling hooks snaked out to find lodging points. One caught in the fixed rungs of a ladderway beneath an entry port and moments later half a dozen Japanese guards, wearing only loincloths, began swarming up the ropes, still shouting as they came.
‘Use only minimal force to dislodge them!’
Robert Eden shouted this order in a firm voice, and drew his sword. With a flourish of the weapon he urged his squad forward to block the threatened entry port. Bracing themselves in an arc across the opening, the small knot of American gunners grasped their pikes firmly and thrust them outward to form a glittering thicket of steel points.
‘Wait!’ called Eden sharply. ‘Wait for the right moment!’
The leading Japanese were scrambling hand-overhand up the iron rungs bolted below the entry port, and their wild shouting grew suddenly louder as they caught sight of the threatening pikestaffs. For a second they hesitated, then, with renewed roars of anger, they continued climbing. When the first Japanese climber came within range, the brawniest American gunner let out a roar and leaned as far as he could through the entry port, preparing to jab the point of the pike into his face.
‘Stand back!’
Eden lunged forward with his outstretched sword and knocked the pikestaff aside. The startled sailor recoiled in astonishment as Eden sheathed his sword and wrenched the pike from his hands. Turning the weapon swiftly end over end, he planted the butt of the shaft squarely against the chest of the Japanese, who by now was reaching for the top rung of the gang-ladder. With a single heave he unbalanced the intruder and sent him somersaulting backwards into the foaming water.
‘Use minimum force!’ commanded Eden, taking a pace back and motioning his men towards the entry port once more. ‘Try to avoid bloodshed!’
Following his example, the other sailors quickly turned their pikes around and dislodged successive climbers by rapping their hands or jabbing the pike shafts at their upper bodies. As one Japanese after another tumbled, yelling, into the water, renewed roars of anger rose from the guard-boats. Those who had been toppled into the water clambered quickly aboard whichever of their own craft closed in to rescue them, but no further attempts were made to board. At another order from Eden, one gunner swarmed nimbly down the ladder and cast off the grappling lines, and his crew cheered raucously as the two guard-boats were carried rapidly away towards the stern on the foaming turbulence churned up by the paddle-wheels.
On seeing how determinedly these boarding parties had been repulsed, the other guard-boats closing around the flagship slackened their pace. Their rowers fell into a steadier rhythm, designed to keep them on station around the Susquehanna, but warriors and oarsmen alike continued to shout ferociously as they kept up their pursuit.
‘Good work!’ boomed Lieutenant Rice from the bridge through his loudhailer. ‘But remain alert. They’ll come at us again when we anchor.’
Glancing aft and to starboard, Eden saw that the bulwarks of the Mississippi and the two sloops-of-war Plymouth and Saratoga were also bristling with clusters of pikes. Guard-boats were manoeuvring in hostile fashion around all three vessels, and a single craft had already succeeded in attaching a 1in to the Saratoga. But, as Eden watched, the last of several loin-clothed Japanese invaders was hurled back into the sea, their boat was quickly cut adrift, and the Saratoga surged onward.
As the US squadron continued up the narrowing bay, the crews and marine detachments on all four ships remained at action stations. Soundings were still being taken continually because they had moved to within a mile of the eastern shore. The flagship led the way along an uncharted channel of about twenty- five fathoms and gradually, through the distant haze, the outline of a craggy bluff came into view Along its heights, Eden saw that a string of forts had been built, and cannon emplacements had been set up on strategic headlands. But as the ships rounded the foot of the bluff and came within range of these same guns, to Eden’s relief they remained silent.
Eventually a small township of traditional wood and paper houses became visible beneath the high wooded cliffs. Eden calculated that they must be approaching Uraga, where it was planned to anchor the four ships and bring their sixty powerful cannon to bear on the town and its protective forts. As the Susquehanna lost speed and began edging its black bulk closer to the shore, the late afternoon sun finally dispersed the last of the distant haze to reveal a range of low mountains in the distance. Noticing this, Eden raised his eyes to scan the heights, and in that same instant the spectacular snow-covered cone of Mount Fuji materialized silently in the empty sky directly above them. The sun, already beginning to dip towards the west, illuminated its snowcap suddenly with a flood of golden light, and its stark beauty again riveted Eden’s attention as he stood alone beside a gunport. Then, as the heavens were split by the roar of a gun firing from one of the hilltop forts, he ducked quickly behind the bulwark. A few seconds later another gun exploded, and a fresh cloud of smoke billowed above the heights, suggesting a signal rocket had been launched.
All four American warships had been edging in line towards their anchorages, still taking careful soundings and moving with great caution, but the roar of the guns prompted an immediate order from the Susquehanna’s bridge for the whole squadron to heave to. In quick succession the massive iron anchors of the two steam frigates and the smaller sloops-of--war crashed from their mountings into the placid waters of the bay. The deafening noise of the huge anchor cables running out echoed alarmingly from the surrounding cliffs and Eden saw crowds of Japanese soldiers on the beaches and cliff tops begin to scurry back and forth in apparent panic.
The sight of the great, smoke-belching ships being manoeuvred into line of battle, with their cannon muzzles jutting threateningly towards the shore, galvanized the oarsmen in the pursuing fleet of guard-boats. Redoubling their strokes, they spurted forward and began to swarm at close quarters around the now stationary US Navy squadron. Looking down through his gunport, Eden saw that each guard-boat contained boxes of provisions, water barrels and sleeping mats, which suggested that their crews were preparing to lay a siege around the foreign ships. He also saw a new flotilla of guard-boats put out from the shore in front of Uraga, and begin speeding towards the anchored squadron.
A moment later the two steam frigates stopped their engines. As the paddle-wheels ceased to churn, Eden heard clearly for the first time the wild cacophony that was rising from the shore. Gangs were being beaten discordantly all along the cliff tops, and mobs of soldiers and civilians were shouting and chanting raggedly on the beaches. Temple bells could be heard tolling out insistent warnings, dogs were barking frenziedly and long lines of figures carrying bundles could be seen scurrying away up the steep cliff side footpaths that snaked away from Uraga and the threatened coastline.
‘It looks very bad, master,’ whispered a frightened voice at Eden’s side. ‘They are sounding the gongs of war now’
Eden glanced down to see Sentaro kneeling in concealment beside the wheeled cannon. Taking care not to be seen by the crews of the Japanese guard- boats pressing all around the ship, he was peering fearfully out over the gun barrel towards the land. Remembering that he had been crouching in the hot darkness of the storage space beneath the fo’c’s’le for some hours, Eden bit back a reprimand.
‘You should stay in your berth, Sentaro,’ he said gently. ‘For your own sake you must remain out of sight until we see what happens.’
‘If they decide to fight, we may all be killed, master,’ moaned the castaway.
Another gun exploded on the cliff top, and another ball of smoke drifted lazily skyward - but no shell or cannonball whistled overhead. Eden gazed grimly down at the guard-boats and their yelling crews, which were still closing in from all directions; then he looked up again towards the hilltop forts, where hundreds of tiny armed figures were now visibly gathering.
‘Perhaps - we will know soon. Go back now to your berth.’
The Japanese castaway crept off obediently and Eden looked again towards the shore - but he found he could not decide whether the bedlam of sound all around them indicated that the Japanese were about to launch a desperate attack, or whether it was born out of fear and apprehension. Glancing sideways at his silent gun crews and the ranks of young marines drawn up along the deck in battle order, he saw that they too were watching the scene before them with taut and mystified expressions.
As he waited with his hand resting on the pommel of his sword, Eden found his eyes were drawn again to the distant skyline, where the ethereal white cone of Fuji was now sharply visible. Under the daytime blue of the heavens its flanks also glowed like azure and, in striking contrast to the turmoil gripping the Bay of Yedo, the mountain remained, as always, a vision of serene tranquillity. All around him the noisy tumult continued to grow, but Eden found he could not entirely forget Fuji’s presence in the distance. Despite the imminent threat of danger to the flagship and its crew, part of his mind was still distracted by the prospect that one day he might climb to the volcano’s extraordinary summit.