One Sunday in early spring, I had the chance to explore the Yokohama Archives of History. This museum focuses on the period between Commodore Matthew C. Perry’s arrival in 1853 and the Great Kanto Earthquake of 1923. Normally, I struggle to appreciate original documents and photos in museums, but because I had been studying Yokohama’s so-called “Golden Age”, I found myself genuinely excited to delve into the past.
The moment I entered the museum grounds, my attention was immediately drawn to a massive tree. As I read the placard, I realized this was the very tree depicted in Wilhelm Heine’s famous painting of Perry’s Black Ships arriving in 1853. Known as Tamakusu, this tree stood near the reception hall where the Treaty of Kanagawa was signed in 1854. Remarkably, Tamakusu survived both the Great Kanto Earthquake and the air raid on Yokohama in 1945. I sat on a nearby bench, imagining the tense atmosphere of 1854 as Japan prepared for the official arrival of internationals. Sitting beside this living piece of history, I hoped that Tamakusu’s legacy would never be forgotten.
After nearly 15 minutes of absorbing the tree’s history, I hurried inside the museum. The first floor featured panels that explored the influx of Western ideas following Perry’s arrival. One display that caught my eye showcased six drawings by Japanese artists, each depicting their interpretation of Perry. Having been isolated from international influence for over 250 years, the artists relied on imagination, resulting in exaggerated features that reminded me of tengu–supernatural creatures from Japanese folklore.
Another fascinating exhibit was a woodblock used for a local newspaper in 1859. The woodblock depicted international ships approaching Yokohama’s harbor, marking the opening of Yokohama, Nagasaki, and Hakodate to the world. As someone who has tried woodblock printing, I was captivated by the intricate details carved into the wood, appreciating the precision and patience it required.
When I saw the miniature model of the USS Susquehanna, one of the infamous Black Ships, I was surprised to find it wasn’t entirely black. I realized I had always assumed the ship was all-black, likely due to the billowing smoke from its funnel. This small revelation made me rethink my imagination of the historic moment as the steamships arrived in Yokohama.
Upstairs, I found black and white photos of Yokohama Port and the Kannai area. One image of Honcho Dori revealed a street bustling with Western influence, from the boots people wore to the stores labeled “Tailor and Outfitters” and “Swiss watches: G. Schneider.”
As the museum’s closing time approached, I returned to the bench beside the Tamakusu tree. Reflecting on everything I had learned, I felt a deep appreciation for the historical events that shaped modern Japan. With a deep breath of content, I left the museum, feeling like an expert on Japanese history.
Yokohama Archives of History: http://www.kaikou.city.yokohama.jp/en/index.html
Google Maps: https://maps.app.goo.gl/Yhg8GWk5wa11YMjJ8