_July 8._—Ship cleared for action; fore and bow-rails and iron stancheons taken down and stowed away; ports let down, guns run out into position and shotted. Flag-ship made signal, “Have no communication with shore; allow none from shore.” Nine o’clock—standing up the outer bay of Yedo; a number of Japanese junks in sight. Smaller boats, in considerable numbers, making for the ships, and crossing their bows; but the sight of the revolving-wheels makes them haul up, and they give us a wide berth as we hold our way past them. To those in the boats who never before saw a steamship, particularly two large war-steamers, towing sloops-of-war through the water at a fast rate, how wonderful must be the sight! As the ships approached the town of Uragawa, or Uraga (about three o’clock), a fort, situated on a high hill, sent up a shell high into the air; and in a little while after we heard the explosion of another. As they did not appear to be aimed at us, but probably intended as signals, or to warn us not to come to anchor in their bay, we kept on. A few moments after stopping our wheels, long sharp-built boats of pine, fastened with copper, and ornamented at the prow with a black tassel, that had not been previously observed under the shadow of a high bluff, swarmed off under oar and sail, and surrounded the ships. They were all fully manned with men in uniform, and an old chap leaned over a rail in the stern. One of the boats that reached us first, contained a mandarin with two swords, who shook a letter at us, and then attempted to board us on the port bow, but the presentation of a loaded musket, by a sentinel, made him think a little while about it. He became much enraged, turned almost white with anger, his crew keeping up the while an awful pow-wow and noise; and, with them, he tries to board again, where our rail was down, but a division of pikes staring them in the face, and a steamer’s wheels kept revolving (rather ugly things for a boat to get under), made them adjourn their determination. Drifting aft to our port-gangway and finding the prospect no better, he put off for shore, pointing to, and motioning that we must not let go our anchor, drawing and sheathing his swords, and holding up a letter. (One of these letters was thrown aboard of the Plymouth, written in French and Dutch, warning us, if we anchored there, we did it at our “peril.”) But our ships went in under their guns and let go their anchors, forming a line broadside to shore, as previously ordered by diagram from Commodore Perry. Boats continued to circle around us, the occupants of some of them appearing to be making drawings of us, but they took care to keep at a respectable distance. In the evening, the lieutenant-governor of the province, Kayama Yesaimon, came off in a boat with streamers, and his rank being announced, he was allowed to come on board the flag-ship. The commodore would not receive him, but turned him over to his flag-lieutenant.