One of the beautiful names that the Japanese have given to their country is "Land of Great Peace," and at no time was this name more appropriate than in the middle of the nineteenth century. Two hundred years before the last of the civil wars of Japan had come to an end, and the people, weary of years of bloodshed, had turned to peaceful ways. The rice fields were replanted, artisans returned to their crafts, shops opened again, and poets and painters followed the call of their arts. The samurai, or warriors, sheathed their swords, though they still regarded them as their very souls. They hung their armor in their ancestral halls, and spent their time in farming, sport, art, and poetry. The daimios, or nobles of Japan, lived either in the city of Yedo or at their country houses, taking their ease, and gradually forgetting the arts of war on which their power had been founded. All the people were quite contented, and had no desire to trade with the rest of the world. As a matter of fact they knew almost nothing about other countries, except through English or Russian sailors who occasionally landed on their coasts. Japan was satisfied to be an isolated nation.

On the afternoon of the seventh day of July, 1853, or the third day of the sixth month of Kayéi, in the reign of the Emperor Koméi, the farmers working in the muddy rice fields near the village of Uraga saw a strange sight. It was a clear summer afternoon, and the beautiful mountain Fuji, its cone wreathed in white clouds, could be seen from sea and shore. What startled the people in the fields, the people in the village, and the boatmen in the harbor, was a fleet of vessels coming to anchor in the bay of Yedo. These vessels, with their sails furled, although they were heading against the wind, were shooting tongues of smoke from their great black throats. "See the ships!" cried the Japanese to each other. Those who knew of such ships informed the others that those were the vessels of the Americans who lived in the West.

The vessels were four ships of the United States Navy, the Mississippi, Susquehanna, Plymouth, and Saratoga, all under command of Commodore Matthew Calbraith Perry. The fleet dropped anchor in the wide bay, forming a line broadside to the shore. The gun-ports were opened, and sentries set to guard against attack by pirates or by fire-junks. As the anchors splashed in, the water rockets shot up from one of the forts on shore signaling to the court at Yedo that the Americans had reached Japan.

The town of Uraga was usually not a very busy place, and when not collecting custom duties from junks bound to other harbors, the government officers spent their free time drinking tea, smoking, and lounging in the sun. But there was a great bustle on the day the strange ships arrived. The chief magistrate, or buniō, his interpreter, and suite of attendants, put on their formal dress of hempen cloth, and fastened their lacquered ornamented hats to their heads; with two swords in each belt, the party marched to the shore and boarded their state barge. Twelve oarsmen rowed it to the nearest foreign ship, but when they tried to fasten ropes to the vessel so that they might go on board, the Americans threw off the ropes, and gestured to them to keep away.

The Japanese officer was surprised to find that, although he was gorgeously robed, and his companions carried spears and the Tokugawa trefoil flag, the Americans would not receive them. They told him, through an interpreter, that their commander wished to confer with the governor himself. The officer answered that the governor was not allowed to board foreign ships. After some further discussion, they agreed the Japanese officer would climb the gangway ladder and meet the Americans on the deck of their vessel.

Commodore Perry knew that the Japanese loved mystery, high-sounding names, and ceremonies, and so he stayed in his cabin and would not show himself to the visitors. A secretary carried his messages, and explained that the mysterious commodore had come on a friendly mission and bore a letter from the President of the United States to the Emperor of Japan, which he wished to present with all proper ceremony. He declined to go to Nagasaki, and insisted that he should remain in Yedo Bay, and added that although his visit was entirely friendly, he would not allow any inquisitive sightseers to prowl about his fleet. The Japanese officer respected his wishes, immediately ordering all the small boats, the punts and sampans that had gathered about the fleet, to row away.

The officer and his bodyguard returned to shore, and told the villagers that the visitors were very interesting people, who were not at all impressed by their costumes or weapons. The Japanese had no such title as commodore in their language, and they referred to Perry as Admiral, and credited him with almost as much majesty as their own hidden Mikado, or as the mighty Shogun.

The western coast of Japan was watchful that night. Rockets from the forts, and huge watch-fires on the cliffs, told the whole country that a most unusual event had happened. The peasants set out their sacred images, and prayed to them as they had not done in years. They worried that the gods of Japan were punishing the people for their neglect by sending these vessels to disturb the coast. To add to the general unease, a light appeared in the sky about midnight, spreading a pale red and blue path across the heavens, as though a dragon were flying through space. Priests and soothsayers made the most of this display of Northern Lights, and pointed out that the vessels, clearly revealed in the harbor, must have something to do with the strange omen.

The governor of Uraga himself, with a retinue of servants, all clad in embroidered gowns and lacquered helmets, and each carrying two swords, went out to the flag-ship next morning. He had evidently overlooked the fact that the Americans had been told on the day before that the governor could not pay such a visit to their fleet. The governor was used to being received with a great deal of attention, and to having people bow to the ground as he went by; but on the deck of the Susquehanna the sailors looked at him with simple curiosity, and when he asked to speak with the mysterious admiral, he was told that he would only be allowed to speak with the captains. These people said that their commander would wait three days for an answer from Yedo as to whether the Mikado would receive the letter of the President. They showed him the magnificent box that held the letter, and the governor's curiosity grew even greater. When he left the flag-ship he had promised to urge the Americans' cause.

Next day, the people dressed in silk and brocade, painted helmets, and gleaming sashes, thinking to visit the ships again, were surprised to learn that the American Admiral would transact no business. His interpreter declared that it was a day of religious observance, known as Sunday. The people on shore heard the sailors of the fleet singing hymns, a strange sound in those waters. Hastily, the Japanese offered new presents at the shrines of their own gods to ensure protection from the Americans. By now the Japanese people thought they might have to guard themselves, and began to build earthworks along the shore. Farmers, fishermen, shopkeepers, women, and children were pressed into service. Embankments were built up, and enormously heavy brass cannon were placed at openings. The old samurai, who had almost forgotten warfare, sought out their weapons, and gathered their troops. Their armor consisted of jackets of silk, iron and paper. Their arms were old matchlocks and spears. They could have fought each other, but they were several hundred years behind the Americans in military matters. On the hills, they set up canvas tents, with flags bearing flaming dragons and the other emblems of their clans. In the days of their civil wars, bright-colored trappings had played an important part.

Yedo was then the chief city of Japan. When Perry arrived in 1853, it was the home of the Shogun Iyéyoshi, who was the real ruler of the land, although the Mikado was called the sovereign. Yedo had been the home of a long line of Shoguns of the Tokugawa family who had ruled the country, calling themselves "Tycoons." They had built up the city, and filled it with palaces and temples that had never been equaled in magnificence. The people of Yedo, numbering over a million, were greatly intrigued when they heard of the fleet of warships lying in their great bay. The Shogun, his courtiers and his warriors bestirred themselves at once. Soldiers were summoned, armor polished, swords unsheathed, castles repaired, and everything possible done to make an impression on the strangers.

The chief people knew that they had little defense against this foreign admiral. Once they had had war vessels of their own, but years of peace had reduced their navy, and they could not defend their coasts. The Shogun was afraid that the admiral might insist upon seeing the Mikado at Kyoto, and that would be a great blow to his own dignity. After hours of debate and discussion he chose two daimios to receive the letter of the American President, Millard Fillmore, and sent word to all coast towns to person their forts.

Perry had played the game of diplomacy well, and so far had allowed no Japanese to see him. He wanted to make a treaty with Japan, and he knew that to succeed he must impress the Japanese people with his dignity. He allowed his captains and two daimios to arrange a meeting to be held at a town called Kurihâma, near the port of Uraga. Each side had tried to outdo the other in politeness. The American captains had received the Japanese officers with great respect, had served them wines, and seated them in upholstered armchairs. The Japanese regretted that they could not provide their guests with armchairs or with wine on shore, but the visitors assured them that they would be willing to adopt Japanese customs.

By July 13th, the scene for the meeting was ready. Hundreds of yards of canvas, with the Tokugawa trefoil, had been stretched along the road to Kurihâma. Hundreds of retainers, clad in all the colors of their feudal days, were gathered about the tents, and on the beach stood as many soldiers, glittering in their lacquered armor. The American officers were almost as brilliantly dressed as the Japanese. They wore coats with a great many bright brass buttons, and strangely shaped hats cocked on their heads. They brought musicians with them who played on cornets and drums, and the music was quite unlike anything the Japanese had ever heard before. Three hundred of the Americans landed and marched from the beach to the main tent, while the people lined the road and scrutinized their strange appearance.

Two or three sailors carried the American flag, and back of them came two boys with the mysterious red box that had been shown to the officers of the port. Back of them marched the commodore, clad in full uniform, and on either side of him strode a guard armed with a large sabre. Many of the Japanese had never seen an American before, and still fewer had ever looked upon a American soldier. They were therefore very much impressed by the procession.

The officers of the Shogun received their magnificent visitor at the door of the pavilion. After greetings, the two boys handed the box to the guards, who opened the scarlet cloth envelope and the gold-hinged rosewood cases, and laid the President's letter on a lacquered stand brought from Yedo. A receipt for the President's letter was then handed to the commodore, who said that he would return to Japan the next spring, probably in April or May. The meeting lasted half an hour, and then, with the same pomp and ceremony, the Americans returned to their ships.

For eight days the fleet remained in the bay. One party of sailors landed, but made no trouble, the people offered them refreshments of tea and fruit. When the Americans embarked for their fleet, the people urged them to come back again. On July 17th the warships steamed away, leaving the cliffs covered with people, who watched the vessels that had no canvas spread, but were driven entirely by fire.

Perry's object in visiting Japan was to obtain a treaty that would allow trade relations between the United States and this nation, which preferred its privacy. He wanted to give the Japanese people time to consider President Fillmore's letter, and so he planned to keep his squadron in Eastern waters until the following spring, when he would return to learn the result of his mission at Yedo. There was much of interest to him in China, and he spent the autumn and part of the winter making charts of that coast, and visiting ports where American merchants were already established.

Meantime the letter of the American President had caused great consternation in Japan. Almost as soon as Perry left a messenger was sent to the Shinto priests at the shrines of Isé to offer prayers for the peace of the empire, and to urge that the Americans be swept away. A week later the Shogun Iyéyoshi died, and left the government at odds as to what to do.

Some of the daimios remembered the military ardor of their ancestors, and wanted to fight the Americans, rather than make a treaty with them. Others thought that it would be madness to oppose an enemy who had such powerful ships that they could capture all the Japanese junks, and destroy the coast cities. One powerful nobleman declared that it would be well for Japan to meet the Americans, and learn from them how to build ships and lead armies, so that they would be able in time to defeat them at their own arts. The Mikado had little to do in the discussion. The actual ruler was the new Shogun Iyésada, son of the former Shogun.

While Commodore Perry was cruising along the coast of China he heard that French and Russian merchants were planning to visit Japan. He was afraid that his country might lose the benefits of his visit unless he could obtain a treaty before these other countries did. Therefore, although a midwinter cruise to Japan was difficult and dangerous, he determined to risk this and return at once. Four ships set sail for Yedo Bay February 1, 1854, and a week later the commodore followed with three others.

In the city of Yedo the new Shogun was very busy preparing either for peace or war. A long line of forts was hurriedly built on the edge of the bay in front of the city. Thousands of laborers were kept at work there, a great number of cannon were cast, and shops worked day and night turning out guns and ammunition. An old law had directed that all vessels of a certain size were to be burned, and only small coasting junks built. This law was repealed, and all the rich daimios hurriedly built warships. These ships flew a flag representing a red sun on a white background, and this later became the national flag of Japan. A native who had learned artillery from the Dutch was put in charge of the soldiers; old mediæval methods of fighting were abandoned, and artillery that was somewhat like that of European countries was adopted.

In spite of all this bustle and preparation, however, the Shogun and his advisers thought it would be wisest for them to agree to a treaty with the United States. Therefore a notice was issued on December 2, 1853, which stated that "owing to want of military efficiency, the Americans would, on their return, be dealt with peaceably." At the same time the old practice of Fumi-yé, which consisted in trampling on the cross and other emblems of Christianity, and which had been long practiced in the city of Nagasaki, was abolished.

Some people in the country were insisting that the time had come for the Japanese to visit the West, and learn the new arts and trades. One of these was a scholar, Sakuma, who urged the government to send Japanese youths to Europe to learn shipbuilding and navigation. The Shogun did not approve of this idea; but a pupil of the scholar, named Yoshida Shoin, heard of it, and decided to go abroad by himself. Sakuma gave him money for his expenses, and advised him how he might get passage on one of the American ships, when the fleet should return to Japan.

As soon as the Shogun learned that Commodore Perry was about to return he chose Hayâshi, the chief professor of Chinese in the university, to serve as interpreter. The Americans had used Chinese scholars in their communications with the Japanese, and Hayâshi was a person of great learning and courtly manners. The Shogun also found a native who understood English, although the Americans did not know this. This person, Nakahama Manjiro, with two companions, had been picked up at sea by an American captain, and taken to the United States, where he obtained a good education. He and his two mates then decided that they would return to their native land, and went to Hawaii, where they built a whale-boat, and then sailed for the coast of China on board an American merchantman. In time the wanderers reached home, and when the Shogun heard of Manjiro's travels he made him a samurai, or wearer of two swords. The whale-boat that he had built was used as a model for others, and the traveler taught his friends some of the knowledge of the Western people.

On February 11, 1854, the watchmen on the hills of Idzu saw the American fleet approaching. Two days later the great warships of the Americans steamed up the bay. The seven vessels dropped anchor not far from Yokosŭka, and the captain of the flag-ship received visits from the governor and his interpreters. Again the same exaggerated forms of politeness were observed, and presents of many kinds, fruits, wines, and confectionery, were exchanged. The Japanese suggested that Perry should land and meet them at Kamakura or Uraga, but the commodore replied, through his captain, that he should stay where he was until the Japanese had decided what they would do. He gave them until February 21st to decide about the treaty.

Boats were sent out from the fleet daily to make surveys of the bay, but none of the crews were allowed to land. At length the Japanese stated that they were ready to treat with the American officers, and Captain Adams was sent to Uraga to inspect the place where the fleet was to anchor, and the new building in which the treaty was to be signed. The captain, with his aides, entered the hall of reception, and was met by a daimio named Izawa. The daimio was fond of joking. After many polite greetings Captain Adams handed the nobleman a note from Commodore Perry. Izawa took out his great spectacles, but before he put them on he folded up his large fan with a loud snap. The Americans, alarmed at the noise, clapped their hands to their revolvers. Izawa could not help laughing at their confusion, but quickly adjusted his spectacles, and after reading the note, said that he was much gratified at the commodore's greeting. Rice and tea, cake and oranges were served the guests. A long argument followed. Captain Adams said that the building was large enough for simple talking, but not for the display of presents; and that Commodore Perry would much rather go to the city of Yedo. The Japanese answered that they much preferred that the meeting should take place at Uraga or Kanagawa. The debate, carried on through Chinese interpreters, was a lengthy one.

Two days later the commodore moved his fleet ten miles farther up the bay. From here his crews could see the great temple-roofs, castles, and pagodas of Yedo itself, and could hear the bells in the city towers. This advance of the fleet convinced the Shogun that Perry meant to go to Yedo. Some of his court had thought that it would be a national disgrace if the Americans were permitted to enter that city, but the government now decided to yield the point, and suggested a place directly opposite, at Yokohama, for the place of treaty.

No such scene had ever been witnessed in the isolated land of Japan as the one that took place there on the morning of March 8, 1854. The bay of Yedo was covered with great state barges and junks with many-colored sails. On shore were hundreds of soldiers, the servants of the great daimios, dressed in the gorgeous costumes of earlier centuries. Held back by ropes were thousands of country people who had gathered from all over that part of Japan to see the strange people from the West. Everywhere was color. Tents, banners, houses, and the costumes of people, women and children blazed with it. The American sailors in all their voyages in the East had never seen such a brilliant picture.

Perry was not to be outdone. His people left the ships to the noise of cannon that echoed and re-echoed along the shore. Twenty-seven boats brought five hundred people, and as soon as they landed the marines formed a hollow square, while three bands played martial music. The great commodore, now looked upon by the Japanese with awe, embarked from the Powhatan in his white gig; more guns were fired; more flags waved; and with great pomp, Perry landed on the beach. His object was to impress the Japanese people with the dignity of his nation.

A number of meetings followed before the treaty was completed. The Americans insisted that vessels in need of wood, coal, water, or provisions should be allowed to get them from shore, and that the Japanese should care for shipwrecked sailors. They also wanted the two ports, Shimoda and Hakodate, opened to them. The Japanese were willing, provided they would not travel inland farther than they could return the same day, and that no American women should be brought into the country. But when the Japanese objected to the arrival of women, Commodore Perry threw back his cloak and exclaimed, "Great heavens, if I were to permit any such stipulation as that in the treaty, when I got home the women would pull out all the hairs of my head!" The Japanese were surprised at Perry's excitement, thinking that they must have offended him greatly. When the interpreters explained what he had actually said, however, both sides laughed and continued peacefully. They grew more and more friendly as the meetings progressed. They dined together and exchanged gifts. The Americans liked the sugared fruits, candied nuts, crabs, prawns, and fish that the Japanese served in different forms, while the Japanese people developed a great fondness for the puddings and champagne the Americans offered them. When it came to gifts, the Japanese were keenly interested in the things the Americans invented. They studied the rifles, the clocks, the stoves, the sewing machines, the model of a steam locomotive, and the agricultural tools, scales, maps, and charts that Perry had brought to the Mikado. These presents were show the Japanese some of the technological progress in the rest of the world; and to show them the uses of steam and electricity, the printing press, newspapers, and all the other inventions that were products of Europe and America.

In exchange, the art-loving people of Japan gave their visitors beautiful works in bronze, lacquer, porcelain, bamboo, ivory, silk, and paper, and great swords, spears and shields, wonderfully inlaid and decorated, that were handed down from their feudal days.

While the fleet stayed Japanese spy-boats kept watch in the bay, to see that their young people did not board the foreign ships in their desire to see something of the world. Time and again the young Yoshida Shoin and a friend tried to break through the blockade, but every time they were sent back to shore. At last the two left Yedo for the port of Shimoda.

The Americans set up telegraph poles, and laid rails to show the working of the model locomotive. They gave an exhibition of the steam-engine. This caused great excitement in the country near Yedo, and every one who could went to see the strange performance. Already there was a struggle between those who were eager to learn the inventions of the Americans, and those who were afraid that the new ideas would spoil old Japan. Many an ambitious youth stared at the Mikado's presents, and tried to learn more of their secrets from the sailors on their way to or from the fleet.

The treaty was signed on March 31, 1854, and agreed that shipwrecked sailors should be cared for, provisions needed by ships should be obtained in the ports, and American vessels allowed to anchor in the two harbors of Shimoda and Hakodate. Actual trade was not yet allowed, nor were Americans to be permitted to reside in Japan. The nation preferred isolation and was not at all eager to enter into competition with other countries, nor to allow foreigners to trade with her. Commodore Perry knew, however, that even the slight terms he had gained would prove the beginning of the opening up of Japan to the rest of the world.

April 18, 1854, Perry left the bay of Yedo for Shimoda, and there the fleet stayed until early in May. While the squadron was there two Americans, who were botanizing on land, met the youth Yoshida Shoin and his friend. The young Japanese gave the Americans a letter, but seeing some native officers approaching, he and his friend stole away. A few nights later the watch on the warship Mississippi heard voices calling, "Americans, Americans!" They found the two Japanese youths in a small boat, and took them on board. Paper and writing materials were found hidden in their clothes, and they explained that they wanted to go with the fleet to America, and write down what they saw there. The commodore, however, felt that he was in honor bound to send the two young people back to their homes; and did so. Yoshida later came to be one of the leaders of the new Japan that ended the long line of Shogun rulers, and made the Mikado the actual emperor.

The fleet cruised from one port to another, now well received by the people, who had forgotten their wariness of the Americans' vessels. The governors of the different provinces gave presents to Perry, among them blocks of native stone to be used in building the great obelisk that was rising on the banks of the Potomac River in memory of Washington. On July 17th the last of the squadron left Napa for Hong Kong.

The Americans had shown the Japanese that they were a friendly people, with no desire to harm them. A people that had lived shut off from the rest of the world for so many centuries was naturally wary of strange people. From time to time European ships had landed in Japan, and almost every time the sailors had done injury to the natives. Perry, however, convinced them that the United States was a friend, and the treaty, slight though its terms were, marked the dawn of a new era in Japan.