Tokyo Bay by Anthony Grey Page B

said the richly robed daimyo, his face darkening with anger. ‘Don’t forget that!’
‘They are truly kurufu n e - black ships - just as the rumours said: muttered a shogunate official who wore a more modest wide-sleeved gown of patterned green silk and a lacquered bonnet. ‘Only a divine wind from the gods, like the kamikaze that wrecked the fleet of Kublai Khan, wi1l drive them away...’
A second official, a scholarly looking interpreter, garbed in similar fashion, looked up anxiously at the clear sky, shaking his head. ‘There will be no great wind today - but we shall forbid them to anchor, as the Council of the Shogun has directed. I’ve composed a command in Dutch, ordering them to leave at once for Nagasaki. The leader of the delegation can display it from our boat. .
‘What sort of “command” have you prepared, Haniwara Tokuma?’ demanded the scowling daimyo contemptuously. ‘Let us see it!’
Holding out both hands, the interpreter unfurled a giant scroll for the inspection of the other dignitaries. Inscribed with big, hand-written Dutch words that would be visible from a distance, the message constituted a defiant order for the American ships to sail back to Nagasaki - Japan’s southernmost port where, during two centuries of total foreign exclusion, a handful of traders from the Netherlands had been permitted to supervise the trickle of trade and other contacts with Western nations.
‘Your feeble message will be ignored, Haniwara - san; said Lord Daizo explosively, waving the banner aside. ‘It will prove quite useless.’
‘It is my duty to exhibit it nevertheless, my lord; replied the interpreter, bowing nervously towards the daimyo as he closed the scroll. ‘I have been instructed to do so. It will at least make our position plain.’
‘Unfortunately the Lord D aizo is right,’ said Tanaka, glancing round at several other dai m yo who were watching the approaching warships with distracted expressions. ‘The Americans have too many guns - they won’t obey such a demand.’
‘But we must show the enemy that we are ready to fight. And very soon we will be prepared!’ A burly, heavy - chested man still strong and forceful in middle age, Lord Daizo glowered at Tanaka in response, then gestured with his arm along the cliff top to draw attention to the growing numbers of foot soldiers and mounted warriors being hastily marshalled into positions overlooking the bay. ‘A force of twenty thousand fighting men has been raised from my own estates and from other fiefs in the region. Soon they will all be in position - and none will fear the barbarians and their black ships.’
Amongst the squadrons of fighting men, who were arrayed in the colours of their clan lords, a few ancient-looking cannon were being dragged into place on the heights by sweating peasants clad only in loincloths. All along the coastal ridges, coloured canvas screens were being hastily erected to help conceal the movement of troops and weapons from the bay. By the minute, new contingents of men in leather and metal body armour were pouring up the hillsides, clutching pikes, spears, or bows and arrows, and the infantrymen among them carried long- barrelled, muzzle-loading muskets and flintlocks on their shoulders.
‘It will not be to our advantage to provoke an outright attack just now,’ said Tanaka carefully, after studying the visible strength of the defences. ‘The American guns are very powerful. And although they are comparatively few in numbers, those who man the ships are extremely confident in their strength.’
‘Those could be the words, Prince Tanaka, of one who is reluctant to fight for other reasons: said Lord Daizo slightingly. ‘How do you know all this?’
Tanaka eyed the dai m yo steadily, giving no sign of having taken offence at his implied insult. ‘My lord, reports brought from the last anchorage of the American ships in the Lew Chew islands make all this very clear. The extent of their power is at