The Spell of Japan
by Isabel Anderson · English · Gutenberg #41722 · 514,884 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: The Spell of Japan
Author: Isabel Anderson
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SPELL OF JAPAN ***
THE SPELL OF JAPAN
THE SPELL SERIES
[Illustration]
_Each volume with one or more colored plates and many
illustrations from original drawings or special photographs.
Octavo, with decorative cover, gilt top, boxed._
_Per volume $2.50 net, carriage paid $2.70_
[Illustration]
THE SPELL OF ITALY
By Caroline Atwater Mason
THE SPELL OF FRANCE
By Caroline Atwater Mason
THE SPELL OF ENGLAND
By Julia de W. Addison
THE SPELL OF HOLLAND
By Burton E. Stevenson
THE SPELL OF SWITZERLAND
By Nathan Haskell Dole
THE SPELL OF THE ITALIAN LAKES
By William D. McCrackan
THE SPELL OF TYROL
By William D. McCrackan
THE SPELL OF JAPAN
By Isabel Anderson
THE SPELL OF SPAIN
By Keith Clark
[Illustration]
THE PAGE COMPANY
53 Beacon Street, Boston, Mass.
[Illustration: _Court and Gate, Shiba Park, Tokyo_
(_See page 60_)]
_The_ SPELL _of_
JAPAN
_BY_
_Isabel Anderson_
[Illustration]
ILLUSTRATED
Boston
THE PAGE COMPANY
MDCCCCXIV
_Copyright, 1914._
BY THE PAGE COMPANY
_All rights reserved_
First Impression, July, 1914
THE COLONIAL PRESS
C. H. SIMONDS CO., BOSTON, U. S. A.
TO THE MEMORY OF
_MY FATHER_
WHO WAS THE FIRST TO TELL ME OF
THE LAND OF THE MILLION SWORDS
JAPANESE PRONUNCIATION
In general, single vowels have the same sounds as in the Continental
pronunciation of Latin. The diphthong _ai_ is like _i_ in fight; _ei_
like _a_ in gate; _au_ like _ou_ in bough. The consonants are sounded as
in English, except that _g_ is always hard and in the middle of a word
is like a prolonged and very nasal _ng_; and _z_ before _u_ is the
equivalent of _dz_. When consonants are doubled, both are distinctly
enunciated. Syllables are pronounced lightly and with nearly uniform
accent as in French, but vowels marked long are carefully lengthened.
INTRODUCTION
The term "Spell," as applied to a series of books treating of various
countries seems instantly to conjure up before the vision the most
romantic and attractive episodes in their history, the most picturesque
and fascinating aspects of their geography, the most alluring qualities
of their inhabitants. Under this ample and elastic term, Romance has
been able to weave its iridescent glamour, if possible enhancing the
charm of the reality, like a delicate veil over a mountain view.
The fortunate authors have been enabled to take journeys as it were on
Solomon's magic carpet, the aerial vehicle of the Imagination, and to
depict ideal conditions based nevertheless on solid foundations of
Truth.
Occasionally Fate seems to idealize reality: a novelist could hardly
conceive a more fortunate setting for a romance than the Court of an
Oriental Potentate, or find a happier source of vivid experiences than
would spring from the position of an open-eyed American woman suddenly
transported to such a scene as the wife of an ambassador sent to some
exotic Empire. Fiction in such a case is transcended by actual fact and
there would be no need of inventing opportunities of inner observation:
every door would stand open and the country would be revealed in its
highest perfection.
In this respect Mrs. Anderson's "Spell of Japan" differs perhaps from
most of its predecessors in the series of "Spell" books. Her husband was
appointed by President Taft in 1912 Ambassador Extraordinary and
Minister Plenipotentiary to the Court of His Majesty the Mikado, and the
whole time of their sojourn in Dai Nippon was filled with experiences
seldom vouchsafed to foreigners. They witnessed functions to which they
were admitted only because of their official position; they were granted
every facility for seeing aspects of Japanese life which ordinary
visitors would have infallibly missed, and they became acquainted with
the very flower of Japanese civilization.
Mrs. Anderson took copious notes and she has utilized these in the
preparation of her most delightful and illuminating volume. It is so
naturally and unostentatiously written that one almost forgets to be
amazed at the intimacy of the pictures: one enters the Imperial palaces
and attends Court functions as simply as one would go to an afternoon
tea at home. Then perhaps suddenly comes the realization of what a
privilege it is to be admitted to see through her keenly observant eyes
the penetralia so jealously hidden from the general throng.
The book therefore is rightly entitled to carry the title of Spell, for
it shows Japan at its very best; it makes one understand the glamour
which the courteous manners, the elaborate customs, the harmonious
costumes, the perfect Art everywhere displayed, cast over all those who
have been fortunate enough to visit the Land of the Rising Sun.
Mrs. Anderson's book cannot fail to serve as a new and important tie of
friendship between the United States and Japan; it will be hailed as an
eminently fair presentation of Japanese ideals, and will from its
authoritative accuracy and its admirable spirit give great pleasure to
all in the best circles of the Empire and serve to do away with many
prejudices which ignorance has disseminated among our own people. It
could not have breathed a more conciliatory and friendly spirit, and its
simple and engaging style cannot fail to win golden opinions for its
talented author.
NATHAN HASKELL DOLE.
FOREWORD
My recent residence in Japan, when we lived in the Embassy in Tokyo, has
served only to enhance the Spell which that country has cast over me
since I first crossed the Pacific, sixteen years ago. What beautiful
summer evenings were those on the Southern Seas, when the moon was full!
As we sat in the bow of the _Doric_ and sang to the music of the
_eukalalie_,[1] we gazed into the water glistening with phosphorescence.
The mornings found us there again, listening to the swish of the waves
as the boat slowly rose and sank on the long Pacific swell. We watched
the flying-fish, and the schools of leaping porpoise, and the tropical
birds with their long white tail-feathers sailing in the blue sky.
[1] Hawaiian guitar.
The excitements and interests on the steamer were many and varied. On
Sunday, while Christians were singing hymns, Chinese and Jews gambled at
fan-tan, Filipinos and Japanese wrestled on the steerage deck, and
Chinese and Hindus knifed each other. Among the passengers were
missionaries with large families, and wayward sons shipped to the East;
in a single group we saw an opium smuggler, a card sharp, and the
ever-present commercial traveller.
As we neared Japan a huge turtle floating on the smooth surface of the
water appeared to have come out expressly to greet us and wish us long
life and happiness, for that is what he represents to the Japanese. We
are grateful to him, for it is true he was a good omen; we were on our
honeymoon, and Japan cast its Spell about us then and still holds us in
its toils, for we have returned again, and yet again.
As Japan consists of five hundred and eighteen islands it is often
called the Island Empire. In the days of mythology and legend it was
named The Country in the Midst of the Luxuriant Reed Plains; later it
was The Mountain Portal, while during the Middle Ages the Chinese called
it The Source of the Sun, or The Land of the Rising Sun--Hinomoto.
Finally it became Nippon Dai Nippon--Great Japan. But it has still other
names, such as The Land of the Gods, The Land of a Million Swords, The
Land of the Cherry Blossoms, and The Land Between Heaven and Earth.
Notwithstanding the changes of recent years, the picturesque and
enchanting Old Japan that men of letters have written about so
delightfully still survives in many ways. The enormous bronze Buddha at
Kamakura sits calmly looking down upon us, as always. At Nikko the
avenue of cryptomerias is still wonderfully fine, while the huge blocks
of stone in the long flights of steps on the wooded mountain-side bring
up a vision of the armies of coolies who placed them there to remain
through the ages. The bronze tombs are the same, only more beautifully
coloured with age, and the wood-carving and lacquers of the glorious old
temples have been kept bright and new by faithful, loving hands. The
Inland Sea is just as mysterious and ever-changing, while Fuji is
worshipped to-day as it has been since the beginning of all time.
So much has been written--and well written--about Old Japan, that in the
language of the Japanese, "The Rustic and Stupid Wife is loth to give to
the Honourable and Wise Reader these few poor notes." It is not so much
of Old Japan that I will write, however, but rather of New Japan, of
social and diplomatic life, of present-day education, of motor trips,
and politics, of bear-hunting among the Ainus, and of cruising in the
Inland Sea.
Notwithstanding our four visits to Japan, on all of which we kept
journals, I wish to say that I have begged, borrowed or stolen material
from travelling companions and others; I desire to acknowledge my
special indebtedness to Mr. C. J. Arnell, of the American Embassy, who
kindly contributed the chapter on bear-hunting, to Major Gosman, also of
the Embassy Staff, who gave me notes on motoring, to Mrs. Lucie
Chandler, who allowed me to use her conclusions in regard to education
and missionaries, to Miss Hyde for the loan of her charming wood-cut,
and to the _Japan Magazine_. Much of my information, besides, came from
my husband's journals. I wish also to thank Miss C. Gilman and Miss K.
Crosby, who have done so much to help me in getting this book together.
I. A.
WELD, BROOKLINE,
March First,
1914.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
INTRODUCTION vii
FOREWORD xi
I. OUTLYING JAPAN 1
II. HISTORIC KYOTO 23
III. FIRST DAYS AT THE EMBASSY 40
IV. COURT FUNCTIONS 64
V. LIFE IN TOKYO 90
VI. THE GROWING EMPIRE 112
VII. A YEAR OF FESTIVALS 136
VIII. CULTS AND SHRINES 164
IX. NEW LIGHT FOR OLD 188
X. PROSE, POETRY AND PLAYS 214
XI. AMUSEMENTS 245
XII. BEAR-HUNTING AMONG THE AINUS 274
XIII. MOTORING AND CRUISING 293
XIV. FLOWERS, INDOORS AND OUT 326
XV. THE ARTIST'S JAPAN 350
XVI. SAYONARA DAI NIPPON 375
BIBLIOGRAPHY 383
INDEX 385
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
COURT AND GATE, SHIBA PARK, TOKYO (_in full colour_)
(_see page 60_) _Frontispiece_
MAP OF JAPAN _facing_ 1
A KOREAN COUPLE 8
A VIEW OF SEOUL 10
THE AMERICAN CONSULATE, SEOUL 16
"WE PASSED ... STRANGELY LADEN HORSES" 23
THE TOMB OF MUTSUHITO 25
THE FUNERAL CORTEGE 27
HIDEYOSHI'S HOUSE AND GARDEN 29
THE AMERICAN EMBASSY, TOKYO 42
JAPANESE SERVANTS 46
"SECRET"--WOOD-CUT BY MISS HYDE 51
SHIBA PARK, TOKYO 60
THE COACHMAN AND THE _BETTO_ OF THE AMERICAN
EMBASSY 65
THE MOATS, IMPERIAL CASTLE, TOKYO 67
THE LATE EMPEROR 80
"LITTLE GIRLS WITH LITTLER GIRLS ON THEIR BACKS"
(_in full colour_) 110
A RICE FIELD 130
DISPLAY OF DOLLS, DOLLS' FESTIVAL 147
DISPLAY OF ARMOUR AND TOYS, BOYS' FESTIVAL 153
GRAND SHRINE OF ISE 167
LACQUER WORK (_in full colour_) 175
EASTERN HONGWANJI TEMPLE, KYOTO 177
THE HONDEN, IYEYASU, NIKKO 180
OFF MIYAJIMA 183
MISS TSUDA'S SCHOOL, TOKYO 195
RED CROSS HOSPITAL BUILDINGS 206
ARMOUR AND WEAPONS OF ANCIENT WARRIORS 223
A JAPANESE STAGE 242
GEISHA GIRLS AT THE ICHIRIKI TEA-HOUSE, KYOTO 246
AN ACTOR OF THE PRESENT DAY 254
MR. ARNELL AND MR. ARNOLD IN A JAPANESE PLAY 260
A WRESTLER 265
THE _NO_ DANCE 271
THE HUNTING PARTY 274
MR. ARNELL AND AINUS 286
_KAGOS_ (SEDAN-CHAIRS) FOR MOUNTAIN CLIMBS 293
THE BUDDHA OF KAMAKURA 297
FUJI FROM OTOME-TOGE (_in full colour_) 302
"LOOKED WISELY AT SOME PRESENTS WHICH WE HAD
FOR HIM" 306
THE WONDERFUL AVENUE OF CRYPTOMERIAS 310
LAKE BIWA 314
AMA-NO-HASHIDATE 316
ANCIENT TEMPLE NEAR NARA 318
A VIEW OF MATSUSHIMA 320
JAPANESE JUNKS 322
THE GREAT _TORII_ 323
A JAPANESE FLOWER MAN (_in full colour_) 330
_IKE-BANA_ OR FLOWER ARRANGEMENT 336
"THE TABLE DECORATIONS ... ARE ESPECIALLY INTERESTING" 339
A JAPANESE GARDEN, TOKYO (_in full colour_) 342
A CARVED PANEL 353
THE CASTLE OF HIMEJI 355
VIEW OF MOUNT FUJIYAMA--PRINT BY HOKUSAI 364
THE LITTLE APES OF NIKKO 379
[Illustration: JAPAN
MAIN ISLANDS.]
THE
SPELL OF JAPAN
CHAPTER I
OUTLYING JAPAN
Our last sight of Brussels, when we left it in early December, was a row
of people, among whom was the Japanese Minister, waving good-bye to us
at the Gare du Nord.
We were starting for the Far East, for my husband had been transferred
from his post in Belgium to that of Ambassador to Japan. This promotion
was very pleasing to us, for Eastern questions were vital, we liked the
Japanese people, and no country could have been more interesting to us
than the Land of the Cherry Blossoms. It was our fourth visit to the
Orient, and, strange though it may seem, when we reached Korea, the
"jumping-off place," we said to ourselves that we began to feel at home.
A quick run across Germany and Russia brought us to Moscow, where
the great Chinese walls reminded us that we had reached an outpost
of the Occident, a city which had once been occupied by the Mongols.
When the Siberian Express pulled out of the station, we felt that we
had really said farewell to Europe and our faces were turned toward
the East. We crossed the vast plains of eastern Russia and western
Siberia--monotonous expanses of white, only relieved by the Ural
Mountains, which at the southern extremity of the range, where the
railroad passes over them, are not really mountains at all, but hills.
Beyond the Obi River we rose from the level steppe to the foot-hills of
the Altai Mountains, a forest region interspersed with open stretches of
good farming land--a country so much like our own West that it is
sometimes called "the new America." We passed immigrant trains filled
with Russian peasants, and the old road over which the exiles used to
march before the railroad was built, and saw cars with barred windows,
like those of prisons, in which convicts are transported.
The thermometer went down, down, as far as forty degrees below zero, but
the cars on the Trans-Siberian were kept as warm as the tropics. The
drifts grew deeper, and there were days and nights of endless snow. In
the hilly country around Lake Baikal we saw some fine scenery. Low hills
and high cliffs covered with larches border its eastern and western
shores, but to the southward, a huge mountain wall, lofty and snow-clad
as our Californian Sierras, closes in around the lake.
In comparison with our fast American trains this "express" moved so
slowly that we feared we should be old, grey-haired men and women before
reaching the end of the journey. It was a welcome sight when Kharbin at
last appeared, and we knew we were nearing Manchuria. Most Siberian
towns that we had seen consisted of low wooden buildings, but Kharbin
contains many substantial brick structures.
It is supposed to be nine days from Moscow to Kharbin, and fourteen days
from London to Tokyo direct, via Vladivostok. We were eighteen days from
Brussels to Kyoto, but we stopped off at Seoul. Our route was through
Korea, which, as everybody knows, is now a Japanese colony, because my
husband wished to see it on his way to his new post. Passengers for
Vladivostok left the train at Kharbin, but we were to continue on
southward toward Changchun, where we expected to find Osame Komori, a
Japanese whom we had known for many years, and who was to be my
husband's interpreter.
We had already received the following letter from Osame:
"DEAR EXCELLENCY:
"My honourable sir, allow me the liberty presenting you this
letter. I meet you Changchun. My gratitude is higher than Fuji
and sacred as the Temple of Ise. Your kindness to me is as deep
as the Pacific Ocean. Your letter was like sunshine in my life,
your news gave me the life from death.... I am total wreck by
fire. We had storms lately turning the beautiful Fuji like
silver capped mountain, but grain still presents carpets of red
and yellow. About gold lacquer you write. I made several enquiry
when it will be accomplished. I kick Y. urgently to finish
it.... My baby has grown well and often repeat the honour of
your last visit.
"Best wishes I remain,
"YOUR FAITHFUL SERVANT."
Osame was better than his word, for he met us at Kharbin instead of
Changchun, bringing with him supplies of various sorts, which he thought
might be acceptable.
After leaving Kharbin we passed through Manchuria, a flat and
low-rolling country, in places somewhat roughened, where streams have
cut their way. The black earth is carefully cultivated as far as the eye
can see, and at this season it was all in furrow. Little primitive carts
with shaggy ponies crossed the landscape, laden with bags of the bean
which is the great product of this section. Every now and then we passed
small fortified guardhouses of stone and brick, with the sentry at his
post, for protection against the brigands who sweep down from the
mountains and try to carry off even parts of the railway.
At Changchun we were assured that the Japanese Government wished us to
be its guests, and we found compartments reserved for us on the Pullman
train. From this point we were escorted by Japanese officials, who were
sent to meet us and give us all the information we could ask about the
country. They told us with bows that the train would be run on a faster
schedule than usual in our honour, and sure enough, we soon were
speeding over the excellent road-bed at a good rate.
As we went on, the snow began to disappear, and the sharp mountains of
Korea came in sight, with little villages tucked away in the ravines.
For Chosen, the Land of Morning Calm, as it is always called in Japan,
is a country of mountains. Granite peaks, deep gorges and fertile
valleys are everywhere in the interior, and the rugged, irregular
eastern coastline, of which we had a glimpse in crossing to Japan, winds
in and out around the base of the ranges. Among the hills and groves
that we passed were the mounds of buried ancestors. We were much
impressed by the sturdy, well set-up appearance of the Japanese soldiers
along the route, and the military bearing of their officers.
Here live the bear and deer, and the long-haired Korean tiger, so
well-known to sportsmen. Foreign sportsmen are free to hunt among these
hills wherever they will and they find it a strange sensation to watch
for tigers on ridges from which they can look down on the thatched roofs
of small villages, or to hear at night from their tent in the village
the cough of the tiger seeking his prey on the hills. The wild pigs and
hog deer, startled by this cough, flee in blind terror, and are seized
by the tiger as they dash past him. In every village a hornblower is on
the watch at night, and when he sounds his horn, all the people beat
their tiger alarms of tin pans to drive the animal away.
The Korean peasants eat the meat and drink the blood of a slain tiger in
the belief that this will render them brave and strong. They make an
all-powerful medicine from the long white whiskers, and use the tiny
collar-bones as charms to protect them from any devils they chance to
meet.
Although it was winter, both men and women were dressed in white cotton,
which looked rather startling after the dark costumes of the Chinese and
the fur coats of the Russians. White used to be the badge of mourning in
Korea, but now it is the national costume. Various stories are told to
account for its adoption. According to one of these, in the early part
of the nineteenth century three kings died in close succession, and as
every one was obliged to wear mourning for three years after the death
of a ruler, at the end of this period all the dyers had become
discouraged and given up their business, and so white became the dress
of the people. Now, when the men are in real mourning, they wear huge
straw hats, and do not think it proper to speak.
Although white is still the national costume, the Emperor, some years
ago, published an edict giving his subjects permission to wear other
colours. The nobles wear a number of coats of the finest cream-coloured
silk lawn, over which there may be an outer garment of blue. The white
garments impose a needless burden upon the women of the lower classes,
who are incessantly engaged in laundry work. The coats are ripped to
pieces and washed in some stream, where they are pounded on stones, then
after they are dry are placed on wooden cylinders and beaten with sticks
until the white cotton has taken on the sheen of dull satin.
Korean men wear curious little open-work hats of black horsehair, which
make them look very tall and slight and give them a dudish appearance.
They present an especially funny picture when riding a bullock. The
women, on the contrary, are wound about in white cotton to such an
extent that they look rather Turkish, and they waddle as if bow-legged.
Many of them are comical in green silk coats, with which they cover
their heads without putting their arms into the sleeves. They were
allowed to wear these garments as a badge of honour for their bravery in
battle, or, as some say, that they might be ready at a moment's notice
to change them into soldiers' coats.
[Illustration: A KOREAN COUPLE.]
It is said that the broad-brimmed hat sometimes worn by the men
originated, several centuries ago, in the efforts of one of the emperors
to put a stop to drunkenness. He decreed that all the men should have a
light earthen-ware hat of the shape worn to-day, which was never to be
taken off, except when they were lying down. The head was protected
against the hard surface of this covering by a light padded cap beneath.
As the rooms of Korean houses are small, not more than four men could be
seated in one, if they had this peculiar headgear. When any one was
found to have a broken hat, it was taken for granted that he had been in
some drunken brawl, and he received the prescribed punishment.
On our arrival in Seoul, we were met by Japanese officials, and were
also greeted by our Consul-General, Mr. Scidmore.
Seoul is charmingly situated in a valley surrounded by beautiful
white-capped mountains, over which wanders the high wall that encloses
the city. The old entrance gates are massive structures--great
foundations of stone with arches cut through them, on which rise the
double recurving roofs of tile. The old town with its narrow alleys and
its filth has well-nigh disappeared. Under Japanese administration, the
gates are no longer closed at night, for there is police protection, and
parts of the city are lighted by electricity. The new streets are wide,
clean and well drained. Although Korea is called the Hermit Kingdom, and
said to be many years behind Japan, there are telegraph lines, electric
cars, bicycles, even one or two motors, brick houses and a Railway
Station Hotel. The Japanese portion of the town was gay with flags
flying from bamboo staffs, in honour of the approaching New Year, and
red and white lanterns swung along the ridgepoles.
One peculiarity of Korean houses strikes a Westerner as very strange. As
their walls and floors are of stone or brick, it is possible to heat
them in the same manner as the Chinese _kang_, that is, by fires built
below. So, many of them are warmed in this way, the wood being put in
from the outside through an opening in the wall of the house, and the
smoke escaping through a chimney on the opposite side. A network of
pipes under the floors carries the hot air to every part of the
building.
[Illustration: A VIEW OF SEOUL.]
We visited the old palace where the dethroned Emperor and Empress used
to live. It is rather Chinese in appearance, but not quite so handsome
as the palace in Peking, which we had seen previously. The approach to
it is by a broad way lined on each side with low, tile-roofed houses;
this leads to the great _Mon_, the entrance gate, with double
overhanging roofs towering above it. Inside this is a great court, next
another massive gateway with two-storied upturned roofs, then another
courtyard, around which are low houses, and a third gate, leading into
the last court, which is approached by terraced steps of stone. Finally
appears the audience hall, a building with recurving roofs of tile,
beautiful carvings, and brilliant decorations in colour. Passages and
courts lead from this to the pleasure pavilion, a large, open,
two-storied structure with a heavy pagoda roof, which stands on a stone
terrace, and is reached by three bridges with stone balustrading. Beside
it is a tank where lotus grows, and near-by a park-like grove of quaint
pine-trees.
In this palace, several years ago, Empress Bin of Korea was assassinated
while asleep. The Emperor, however, dressed as a coolie, escaped to the
Russian Legation, where he lived for two years. He afterward built
himself a new palace in European style, where he resides now as a sort
of prisoner, while his son lives in another palace, and the grandson is
being educated in Japan. The Emperor is now known as Prince Yi the
Elder, and his son as Prince Yi the Younger, while his grandson, who
also bears the same name, is the last of the Yi dynasty, which has ruled
Korea for five hundred years.
As we all know, Korea was involved in the two terrible wars that have
been waged in the Far East in recent years. Japan needs Korea as an
outlet for her surplus population, as a source of food supply and a
market for her manufactured products, but still more does she need it as
a strong country to stand between herself and Russian aggression. In the
last decade of the nineteenth century the Hermit Kingdom was still under
the suzerainty of China, and its government was weak and hopelessly
corrupt. Japan refused to acknowledge this overlordship of China, and
insisted that the Korean government must be reformed. China was asked to
help in enforcing the changes, but refused to interfere. Neither China
nor Japan would yield.
Finally the Koreans sent for Chinese troops, and then the Japanese
attacked the Emperor's palace. A great naval battle was fought at the
mouth of the Yalu River, in which the Chinese were defeated and five of
their ships sunk. The Japanese army took Dalny and Port Arthur. Another
naval battle ended in the surrender of the Chinese fleet and the suicide
of the Chinese admiral. Togo and Yamagata, whom I once had the pleasure
of meeting at a luncheon in Tokyo, and Nogi, were among the heroes of
this war. By the treaty of Shimonoseki, in 1895, China agreed to pay an
indemnity to Japan and to recognize the independence of Korea, and also
ceded the Liaotung Peninsula with Port Arthur, and the islands of
Formosa and the Pescadores group to Japan. No sooner was this treaty
signed, however, than the Great Powers compelled Japan to restore
Liaotung to China.
But within a few years, Russia obtained a lease of Liaotung, and the
Powers made no protest. She soon invested immense sums in Manchuria--in
building the Manchurian Railroad, in fortifying Port Arthur and making
it a naval base, and extending the Chinese Eastern Railroad toward the
Yalu and Korea. She made Kharbin her military base and filled Manchuria
with soldiers.
Japan saw the necessity of protecting not only her freedom of trade, but
her very existence as a nation, for Russia, from her vantage ground in
Manchuria, had begun to take possession of the valley of the Yalu River,
on Korea's northwestern frontier. Once this section was in her power it
would be an easy matter to sweep down through the peninsula and across
the narrow Straits of Shimonoseki to the Island Empire itself.
In vain did Japan try to open up negotiations with Russia. On one excuse
or another, she was put off for months, while all the time Russia was
preparing for war. Finally diplomatic relations were severed by order of
Baron Komura, Japanese Minister of Foreign Affairs, and war was declared
February 10, 1904. Baron Kaneko, in an address before the Japan Club of
Harvard University, in April of that year, said that Japan was fighting
to maintain the peace of Asia and to conserve the influence of
Anglo-American civilization in the East.
After Admiral Togo had destroyed the Russian fleet, and the long siege
of Port Arthur had ended in its surrender to the heroic Nogi, all the
Japanese armies combined for the final struggle around Mukden, which
terminated in the flight of the Russians from Manchuria. The treaty of
peace, which was signed at Portsmouth, New Hampshire, gave Japan Port
Arthur, a protectorate over Korea, and half the island of Saghalien, and
provided that both nations should evacuate Manchuria. The protectorate
over Korea has since become a sovereignty.
The Japanese Governor-General, Count Terauchi, is a very strong and able
man, and under his administration many improvements have been made in
Korea. This has not always been done without friction between the
natives and their conquerors, it must be confessed, but the results are
certainly astonishing. The government has been reorganized, courts have
been established, the laws have been revised, trade conditions have been
improved and commerce has increased. Agriculture has been encouraged by
the opening of experiment stations, railroads have been constructed from
the interior to the sea-coast, and harbours have been dredged and
lighthouses erected. Japanese expenditures in Korea have amounted to
twelve million dollars yearly.
The Governor-General gave us a dinner at his residence, a big European
house, where everything was done in European style. The four Japanese
ladies who received, however, were all in native costume--black kimonos,
which they wear for ceremony only, and superb gold _obis_, or sashes.
One of them was the Governor's daughter, Countess Kodama, who was very
beautiful. I went in to dinner with the Governor-General, and had on the
other side a Japanese doctor of the Red Cross, who had been much in
America and was well acquainted with Miss Boardman, the head of our Red
Cross here.
Our delightful luncheon at the Consulate must not be forgotten, for no
more charming people could be found anywhere than the Scidmores. Miss
Scidmore is the author of "Jinrikisha Days," as well as other books on
the East. The remarkably pretty Consulate, which is owned by our
Government, is an old Korean house, or _yamen_, built in a walled
compound on the slope of a hill. Having only one story, it presented
more the appearance of a studio than of a residence, but was made cozy
with open fires and attractive with many beautiful curios.
The religions of Korea are Buddhism, Confucianism and Shamanism, all
found there to-day. Shamanism is the form of worship of the more
primitive masses. There are many Buddhist temples in Chosen. For
instance, among the peaks of Keum-Kang-San alone, in the heart of the
Korean mountains, there are over fifty monasteries and shrines, but all
more or less in a state of decay. Christianity was brought into the
country by the Roman Catholics in 1777.
[Illustration: THE AMERICAN CONSULATE. SEOUL.]
The American colony in Seoul numbers about five hundred, among them
being many Methodist and Presbyterian missionaries. In regard to the
recent troubles between these missionaries and the Japanese the accounts
differ. The Governor was attacked by some Koreans, and, of course,
ordered an investigation and the trial of those accused. Some of the
Koreans asserted that they were tortured by the Japanese during their
imprisonment, but in most cases this was proved untrue. The
missionaries, having been the advisers of the natives in all kinds of
ways, should not be too harshly judged for taking the part of those whom
they believed innocent.
The results of mission work in Chosen are certainly very striking. I was
told by an unprejudiced observer that the largest congregations she ever
saw were in Seoul, and she was assured that, farther north, the numbers
drawn into the churches were still greater. Even if we admit that some
of these converts were won over by the hope of material gain, we cannot
fail to see that all this work has had a humanizing effect, which is
especially needed in this country.
Some of the best work of the missions is done in schools and
hospitals--especially in hospitals. Hygienic conditions among natives
not in contact with foreigners are frightful, and their ideas of
medicine and surgery are most primitive. From mere ignorant attempts to
aid alone there is tremendous physical suffering. The foreign hospitals
have now won the confidence of the people, so that in the end they
always make application there.
When we left Seoul, many Japanese officials were at the station in the
early morning to say good-bye, among them being General Akashi, Count
Kodama, and others. At every town of any importance, during our journey
south, the mayor, the chief of police, reporters and hotelkeepers came
to the train, presented their cards, and exchanged pleasant remarks with
my husband. We were surprised to see how many of them spoke English.
Southern Korea is quite beautiful, with fine snow mountains and
cultivated terraces, where rice is raised by irrigation. The red soil is
very fertile, but the mountains are bare of trees, the Koreans having
cut down the forests. As the Japanese have made good forest laws,
however, the trees will now be allowed to grow again. The whole trip
through Korea was beautiful and most interesting, and in the south
particularly we noticed that numbers of Japanese immigrants were
settling in the country.
The colonial possessions of Japan include not only Korea, but part of
Saghalien, Formosa and one or two groups of islands in the north. It was
to Saghalien that the most desperate of Russian convicts were sent for
many years. The southern half was ceded to Japan after the
Russo-Japanese War. It has proved quite a valuable asset, inasmuch as it
contains extensive forests of pines, larches and other trees of
sub-Arctic regions, is noted for its fisheries, and abounds in sables,
the fur of which is shipped to Japan. These last are perhaps not so fine
as the best Russian sables, but they are of good quality, nevertheless.
Formosa, which I had seen on a previous visit to the East, lies to the
southward, off the coast of China. About one half as large as Ireland,
it consists in the west of a narrow, fertile plain, and in the centre
and east of mountains, which descend to the coast in sheer precipices
over three thousand feet high. Mt. Morrison, the loftiest peak on the
island, is higher than Fuji, and has been renamed by the Japanese
Nii-taka-yama, the New High Mountain. The ascent of Mt. Morrison
discloses all the variety and luxuriance of vegetation seen nowhere
except on a peak in the tropics. At the lower levels are palms, banyans,
huge camphor trees, tree-ferns and rare orchids, and impenetrable
growths of rattans; higher up are cryptomerias--giant cedars; still
higher, pine-trees; and alternate tracts of forest and areas of grass
land extend to the very top.
The word _formosa_, which means beautiful, was given to the island by
the first Portuguese navigators who sailed along its coast. It is indeed
one of the loveliest islands of the Far East. In the late afternoon, the
day we passed by, the sky was a hazy grey and the island a delicate
mauve. The sun disappeared behind the peaks, and the heavens became a
glowing red, transforming the mountains into dark, flaming volcanoes. As
darkness came on, the heat was so great that we slept on deck. The
beautiful Southern Cross gleamed above the horizon, and the glory of the
sunset gave place to the wonderful, mystic charm of a tropical night.
After having been occupied by China for over two centuries, Formosa was
ceded to Japan in 1895. Here, as in Korea, Japanese administration has
introduced great changes, and it is difficult to realize that railways
and electric lights are to be found in this remote part of the earth. In
return Formosa supplies Japan with rice, tea and sugar. It also produces
nearly all the camphor used in the world.
The Chinese, during their possession of the island, inhabited only the
western section, and had no power whatever over the wild Malays of the
eastern half. These savages are head-hunters, and are difficult to
handle, because they enjoy above everything else that most terrible and
exciting game in the world, the game of taking another man's head. They
dance war dances, and keep the skulls of their slain enemies as
drinking-cups, from which they drink wine made from the brains of their
victims. The Japanese have devised an ingenious scheme for keeping the
head-hunters under control and conquering them. They have encircled the
mountain peaks with a live electric wire, and have stationed guards at
intervals along the line. The natives have learned the danger of this.
Now the Japanese are gradually moving the wire higher and higher, so
eventually they will have the savages pocketed, and will subdue them by
starvation or otherwise.
After our brief stay in Seoul we bade farewell to the Colonies and
turned our faces toward the Land of the Rising Sun itself, making the
crossing from Chosen to Shimonoseki in a single night. This is far
pleasanter than the passage from Vladivostok, which requires several
days. In order to attract travellers, the Japanese have put their best
cars and boats on this route. Our last glimpse of the Hermit Kingdom was
a picture of jagged peaks rising in lofty precipices from a moonlit sea,
their black masses outlined in solemn grandeur against the heavens.
CHAPTER II
HISTORIC KYOTO
It was a day's journey in the train from the coast to Kyoto. We ran
through stretches of glistening paddy-fields, with their patches of
bright green crops and rows of yellow straw-stacks, and then through
long villages of tiny thatch-roofed houses, or by avenues of twisted
pine-trees. We passed bullock carts and strangely laden horses, and
people clip-clipping along on their wooden clogs, and arrived finally,
late on Christmas Eve, at Kyoto, the ancient capital.
[Illustration: "WE PASSED ... STRANGELY LADEN HORSES."]
To our delight and surprise, we found that the thoughtful hotel
proprietor had arranged a pretty Christmas tree in our parlour. So we
had supper and exchanged gifts, although the hour was late, and felt
that in spite of being so far from home we were having a real Christmas
after all.
We stopped in Kyoto for the especial purpose of making a pilgrimage to
the burial place of the late Emperor Mutsuhito, now known as Meiji
Tenno. The emperors take their posthumous name from the name of their
era; the present Emperor has chosen to call his era Tai-Sho, for
instance, which means Great Righteousness. As L. wished to pay his
respects, it was arranged that we should visit Momoyama, where the late
Emperor is buried.
As all diplomats are obliged to wear Court mourning, we put on our
deepest black--I had a crêpe veil and bonnet which I had been wearing
for the mother of the King of Belgium. We went in a motor. The roads
were excellent, and the people made way for us, so that we ran with
speed and comfort, even through the narrow streets of the continuous
village with their congested traffic.
The place chosen for the tomb of Mutsuhito is on a hill beyond Kyoto
where there is a fine outlook which the late Emperor greatly loved. As
we drew near, constabulary, who were apparently waiting for us, directed
and stopped the traffic, so that we soon reached the broad new highway
which had been made for the funeral. It is a wide gravel road winding
around the base of the mountain to the low-lying buildings about the
tomb. These are of the simplest style. Indeed, the entire burial place
and shrine are in the Shinto fashion, very plain in form and
arrangement.
[Illustration: THE TOMB OF MUTSUHITO.]
We were met by the Honourable Chief Keeper of the Tomb, a Japanese
gentleman in a frock coat and top hat who conducted us into a pavilion
at one side, where seats were placed at the head of a table. Here we sat
for a few moments, and then, preceded by the Keeper, passed into the
wide gravelled courtyard surrounded by houses and walls of plain wood.
There are two "wash-hand" places at one side, between which a path leads
to steps that ascend from the court toward the burial place. People are
admitted to this courtyard, and at times over a hundred thousand have
come in a single day to worship the memory of the late Mikado. Princes
and ambassadors may go beyond this space, however, so we bowed and
passed up another gravelled way to the Memorial Temple, in its simple
Shinto style. Immediately above this, higher up on the hill, is the
temple beneath which the Emperor's body is buried.
At one side of the Memorial Temple, in a small pavilion, three figures
were squatting, immobile and expressionless. These were noblemen,
dressed in ancient fashion. Here we found a mat on which we knelt for a
while, then rose and bowed again toward the tomb, and then toward the
figures in the pavilion, who bowed in return. After that we passed out
as we had come.
It had really been a most impressive ceremonial, although so simple. As
we had been received by his late Majesty in audience and at luncheon,
there was something personal as well as official in the respect which we
had tried to show by our pilgrimage. Afterward we heard that it had been
greatly appreciated by the Japanese officials and people, who consider
their Imperial family almost divine.
The funeral of the Emperor occurred several months before our arrival in
Japan. From all accounts it must have been a very wonder of wonders.
Special ambassadors came from every country as guests of the Japanese
Government, and fine houses were put at their disposal. Mr. Knox, our
Secretary of State, was conveyed from the United States in a man-of-war.
Great pavilions in Shinto style were erected in Tokyo to accommodate the
distinguished guests during the evening of the procession, and feasts
were provided for them.
[Illustration: THE FUNERAL CORTEGE.]
As it had been so long since an Emperor had died, special Shinto
services had to be arranged. The funeral was at night. The music was
very weird and sad, and the wheels of the funeral car, which was drawn
by oxen, were made to creak as they ran along, as if writhing and crying
in agony for the loss of the Great Emperor they were bearing to his
resting-place.
High officials, officers, and priests, in old ceremonial costumes or
modern uniforms, were in the procession, and the brightly decorated
avenue, lined with soldiers and crowded with onlookers, made a weird
picture in the flashing lights--one never to be forgotten, I should
imagine, by those who were fortunate enough to witness it. After passing
in this fashion through the streets of Tokyo the body was put on the
train and conveyed to Kyoto, where the procession was resumed to the
tomb.
Of its reception in Kyoto, Terry, author of "The Japanese Empire," says:
"To the distant crashing and the reverberating roar of minute-guns; the
wailing of bugles and the booming of gigantic temple bells; to the sound
of the wild minstrelsy of priests and bonzes, the pattering of a
weeping, drenching rain and the sighing of a vast concourse of mourning
people ... the mortal remains of Mutsuhito ... were laid tenderly in
their last resting place."
A poem written by the late Emperor and translated by Dr. Bryan has
recently been published. It is called "My People," and although so short
is rather impressive.
"Whether it rain or shine,
I have only one care:
The burden of this heart of mine
Is how my people fare!"
Kyoto, sometimes called Saikyo, was the ancient capital, where the
shoguns and mikados used to reside in the early days. It is a city of
temples, where nothing under three hundred years is counted old, and
although typically Japanese it seems somehow different from other
cities. The tiny houses and narrow streets appear tinier and narrower
here than elsewhere.
The hills to the east of the city are covered with old shrines and
buildings, and the woods are full of temples, too. In the Chionin
Temple, founded some seven hundred years ago, may be seen an umbrella
left among the rafters of the roof by the master-builder during its
erection. Tradition insists that it flew thither out of the hands of a
boy whose shape had been assumed by the guardian deity of the temple,
but the other explanation, while less romantic, seems more probable.
Near this temple, on a small elevation among the trees, stands the Great
Bell, the largest in the country. Not far away are many other
interesting things, among them the Dai Butsu--the Great Buddha. There
are also some sacred springs, a curious temple on stilts, and
innumerable lanterns.
The two most important temples are the Eastern and the Western
Hongwanji, which belong to the most powerful Buddhist sect. We went
through the latter, which had some excellent paintings. The garden and
houses belonging to this temple, which are six hundred years old, were
built by Hideyoshi, the famous "clever boy," who from nothing at all
became shogun. The Eastern temple is described in the chapter dealing
with religions.
[Illustration: HIDEYOSHI'S HOUSE AND GARDEN.]
The approach to the Gosho Palace, once the abode of the mikados, is not
very attractive, leading through a bare, flat park. Our interest was
soon aroused, however, by the sight of one of the six gates of the
palace, through which we drove, following the grey wall with its stripes
of white and its tiles showing the sixteen-petalled chrysanthemums--both
emblems of royalty. Another gate, perhaps a little smaller than the
first, brought us to the immediate entrance. The building is
comparatively new, the old palace having been destroyed by fire in 1854,
but it is very large, covering an area of twenty-six acres.
Two officials greeted us at the inner gate, and, after politely asking
us to remove our shoes, conducted us down the long, narrow corridor to
what were probably waiting-rooms. There were three of these, decorated
in sepia. From here we were led through another corridor, past the room
with a dais at one end for the higher nobility, where the courtiers used
to dine off the flat, red lacquer tables, to the Seiryoden--the Pure and
Cool Hall--a room used for religious festivals, with marvellously
coloured birds painted upon its walls. This hall received its name from
a small stream of clear water which runs through a sluiceway near-by.
Opening from this is a courtyard in which grow two clumps of bamboo,
named centuries ago for the two ancient Chinese kingdoms, Kan and
Go--Kan-chiku and Go-chiku.
To the right of the Seiryoden is a room which is reserved for special
audiences, called Shishinden, or Mysterious Purple Hall. In the centre
of this is a platform on which stands the throne, a great chair inlaid
with mother-of-pearl. It is covered by a canopy of pale fawn-coloured
brocade with outer drapings of red and purple, and is guarded by the two
sacred dogs. The walls of this room are painted in panels representing
Chinese sages, the panels being copies of the originals, which were
painted in 888 A. D. and afterward destroyed by fire. Leading from the
courtyard into the hall is a flight of fifteen steps, corresponding in
number to the grades into which officials of government were divided.
The higher order stood on the upper step, and so on down to those who
were obliged to stand in the court. On one side of the steps is a wild
orange tree named Ukon-No-Tachibana, and on the other a cherry tree,
Sakon-No-Sakura.
From this hall we passed through more galleries, and through one
particularly beautiful chamber with decorations of wild geese in sepia.
At the end of a corridor, making a turn to the left, we came to some
more waiting-rooms, decorated in blue and white--the most heavenly blue,
surely pieces of the sky brought down from the kingdom of the gods by
the first illustrious ruler! Here tea and cigarettes were offered us,
and we were glad to rest and enjoy the view of the landscape garden with
its miniature lake and islands on which were temples and twisted trees.
From this room we passed through more corridors to the entrance, where
we bowed to our guide, put on our shoes, and departed, with a feeling of
having been soothed and rested by the beautiful simplicity and solemnity
of the Gosho Palace.
Once more out in the sunshine, we drove through the park into the
streets of the city and on to the Nijo Castle. This palace, formerly
belonging to the shoguns, dates from the early part of the seventeenth
century. Its splendid iron-bound gates are fine specimens of Japanese
architecture and carving. It is much more resplendent than the Mikado's
palace, having been built in a spirit of rivalry to show the superior
wealth and power of the Shogun. We were received here in the same
cordial manner as at the Gosho, and after removing our shoes were taken
into a small antechamber, which had two superb doors made of the
cryptomeria tree with bronze studdings and hinges. Then followed a
series of rooms, the first of which was set aside for the _samurai_ and
decorated with tigers with intent, awful eyes, crouching, rampant, even
flying, on a background of glorious gold.
From these we passed into the rooms used by the _daimyos_, and on from
room to room, every apartment having its golden setting, which was so
rich and mellow with age that we seemed to be breathing in the creamy
softness of it. In each of these suites were secret closets, where
guards were stationed in olden times, unseen by the assembly. One
chamber with its paintings of pine-trees was very attractive in its
simplicity; the next delighted us with remarkable carvings; the
following one, with its cherry blossoms and its ceiling, so pleased the
late Emperor that he had it copied for the banquet-room of his palace in
Tokyo. Still another apartment, with its bamboo decorations, rivalled
those we had seen before, while the last one had a pathetic touch with
its poor little cold and starving sparrows.
One door of especial note showed a heron, wet, cold and miserable,
standing on the gunwale of a boat. The grain of the wood had been
skilfully used by the artist to represent a rainstorm. The door had
unfortunately been much damaged by vandalism during the régime of the
Kyoto prefecture in 1868.
From a long series of rooms radiant with sunshine we entered others
which had the moonlight for their setting--all so beautiful that it is
difficult to express one's admiration. From this suite we were led
finally back to the entrance once more, arriving there bewildered by the
vast number of rooms, the length of the corridors, and the splendour of
all that we had seen.
It was in this palace that the last of the Shoguns formally turned over
his power to the Mikado, an event which marked the beginning of the new
era for Japan.
* * * * *
Japanese history, with which Kyoto is closely identified, begins with
myth and fable. No definite facts or dates are known, previous to the
fifth century A. D. According to legend, the country was first created
by Izanagi and his wife Izanami; from his left eye came the Sun-Goddess
and from his right eye the moon, while a tempestuous god came from his
nose. He was blessed with more than a hundred children, but, in spite of
this, his wife, Izanami, died and went to Hades. Although their parents
were divine, the children were only demi-gods, and came to earth by
means of a floating bridge.
The Sun-Goddess, Ama-terasu, was given partial control of the new realm.
She appointed her grandson, Ninigi, and his descendants for ever,
sovereigns of Japan. Before leaving his grandmother's kingdom Ninigi was
presented with a sacred mirror, sword and jewel. The mirror is shown at
the shrine of Ise, the sword in a temple near Nagoya, while the stone
has always been kept by the Mikado. Ninigi, accompanied by a host of
gods, alighted upon a mountain in the province of Satsuma, and his son,
Jimmu Tenno, finally made a conquest of Japan.
The Emperor Jimmu is said to have been the first human sovereign in the
land. He rowed up through the Inland Sea with his warriors, overcoming
and subjugating the savages whom he encountered. All this happened
during the seventh century before Christ. February eleventh is the date
celebrated as the anniversary of his coronation as Emperor, but, of
course, not only the date but even his very existence, is uncertain. The
present Emperor is believed to be a direct descendant of this first
ruler.
Some think that Jimmu Tenno may have been a Chinese warrior, for it is
true that during the third and fourth centuries A. D. vast hordes of
Chinese and Koreans invaded the country, bringing with them the arts and
sciences of civilization, as well as the religion of Buddha. The Ainus,
who were probably the original Island people, began to disappear and are
now found only on the northern island of Hokkaido--also called Yezo.
The first woman who seems to have taken an active part in Japanese
history is the Empress Jingo (Singokogu). She is supposed to have lived
in the third century A. D. and to have made a conquest of Korea, which
she added to her other possessions.
The son of Sujin, "the Civilizer," became known as the Merciful Emperor,
because he did away with the terrible custom of burying alive, with a
deceased Emperor, his family, retainers, and animals. Instead, he
substituted clay figures about the tomb. This is still the fashion, for
such figures were placed inside the tomb of the late Emperor. They are
also to be seen on the avenue leading to the Ming Tombs, near the Great
Wall of China.
Kyoto became the seat of the mikados during the eighth century A. D. and
was known as the Western Capital. From the twelfth century on, these
descendants of the Sun-Goddess were rulers of Japan in theory only,
however. In reality the power was held by a succession of powerful
nobles--mayors of the palace, like the Carolingians in mediæval
Europe--who were called _shoguns_.
The shoguns continued in power for nearly a thousand years, living at
first in Kyoto but later--in the sixteenth century--removing to Tokyo
(Yedo), which became the Eastern Capital. They never claimed supremacy,
always affirming that they ruled the country simply by authority
delegated to them from the Mikado. Any titles or honours which they
wished to bestow upon themselves or their favourites were given in the
name of the Emperor.
The Portuguese were the first foreigners to arrive, coming in 1542. With
them were Jesuit priests, who, under cover of attempted conversion, were
thought to be plotting a Portuguese conquest of the country. As a result
of this discovery, in 1587, an edict was issued that all Christian
teachers should leave Japan. Later even more stringent measures were
taken for the destruction of the Church, and all proselytes were called
upon to recant.
After this event two centuries and a half of peaceful seclusion, known
as the Tokugawa Period, followed. The founder of this dynasty was
Tokugawa Iyeyasu, a general of great genius who succeeded in bringing
the other nobles to terms and in establishing a strong and effective
central government. Bismarck is said to have described him as "a great
man long trained in the school of adversity." Feudalism reached its
perfection under his rule.
While the shoguns were in power they owned all the land in the realm.
This land they leased to the _daimyo_, or barons. These in turn sublet
to their vassals, the brave _samurai_, who formed the fighting class and
gave military service to their lords for the value received. Merchants,
traders, manufacturers, farmers, artisans and coolies, all owed
allegiance to their immediate master, who stood next above them in the
social scale.
During the Tokugawa Period art and letters flourished. The country was
at peace, and well governed. The only foreigners allowed in the country
were the Chinese and Dutch traders, who might enter the harbour of
Nagasaki under guard.
To Americans the most interesting date in Japanese history is that of
July 14th, 1853, when Commodore Perry appeared with his black ships, his
big guns, and a letter from the President of the United States to the
Shogun of Japan. (Foreigners did not realize that the Shogun was not the
supreme authority.) Prince Tokugawa not only received the letter, which
was contrary to national law, but in due time consented to the opening
of certain ports to foreign trade.
Soon after this, the "open door" policy proving unpopular with the
people, the country found itself in the throes of a revolution which
resulted, in 1868, in the restoration of the Mikado to the throne of his
ancestors and to the power which went with it. Prince Keiki Tokugawa,
the fifteenth of the House of Tokugawa and last of the shoguns, retired
in favour of the Emperor, Meiji Tenno. He survived the Emperor by over a
year, dying in November, 1913.
Although the Imperial line was restored to power, their capital, Kyoto,
was abandoned in favour of Tokyo, which has remained the seat of
government ever since.
CHAPTER III
FIRST DAYS AT THE EMBASSY
Soon after Christmas we left Kyoto for Tokyo. After having been on the
train eighteen days I looked forward with pleasure to being quiet once
more.
At the station we found the members of the American Embassy Staff and
some old Japanese friends waiting to greet us. There were nineteen in
all on the Staff--a larger number than at any other American Embassy. As
we walked down the platform to the carriage, the photographers took
flashlight pictures of the party in quite an up-to-date American
fashion.
We had a house ready for us on our arrival, as the United States owns
the Embassy in Japan. Of course all our embassies and legations and
consulates are considered American territory, but as almost all these
are rented houses, the theory is rather absurd. Years ago, however, the
Government felt that it was necessary to buy land in Japan and Turkey
for embassies and in China for a legation, and this accounts for our
experience.
Congress is not generous in anything which does not concern immediate
home politics. It will not pay for embassies which compare with those of
other nations, as a rule. The one appropriation so far suggested in
Congress for the purchase of five or six embassy buildings is not
sufficient to buy one suitable residence, so the Government would
probably acquire, at best, only a second-rate house, which would make
the American Ambassador second-rate in the eyes of the country to which
he was accredited.
Granting that the Government did acquire a suitable house, however, it
would require an increase in salary to keep it up. Diplomats are obliged
to observe certain standards of living unless they wish to have their
country looked down upon. For instance, in Vienna even the secretaries
must drive in a carriage with a pair--a one-horse conveyance is not
considered suitable for diplomats. On the other hand, as there is no
regular diplomatic service in America, the raising of salaries would
attract a poor class of politicians who would seek foreign posts for the
money that went with them. This happens sometimes in representations
from other countries, but as they have a well-organized service it does
not occur very often.
From the outside the Embassy in Tokyo looks rather like an American
summer hotel--a large white house with green blinds, of no particular
style and somewhat old and ramshackle. I was told that it had to be
built of wood on account of earthquakes; it certainly had great cracks
in the walls. It had been newly painted in honour of our arrival, and
looked fairly well on the outside, comparing favourably with some of the
other embassies: the English, German and Austrian are perhaps better,
and the French are to build an ambitious new one. The Dutch and the
Brazilians were our nearest diplomatic neighbours; the former have a
very nice compound on a hill near-by, and although the house is not
large it is filled with beautiful curios. Our own Embassy was shabby,
but we found it rather nice and comfortable, after all; it was one of
the few houses in Tokyo that had a furnace, which is a rare luxury in
Japan.
[Illustration: THE AMERICAN EMBASSY, TOKYO.]
The embassies are scattered about on commanding hills in different parts
of the city, as the land was bought at various times by their respective
governments. At one time Tsukiji was the only part down by the river
where foreigners who were not officials were allowed to live, but I
believe they may now rent houses in any section of Tokyo.
Our compound was on the slope of a hill in a district called Akasaka. It
covered about two acres and contained, besides the Embassy and the
chancery and the servants' quarters connected with it, a stable and two
bungalows. One of the bungalows was for the First Secretary, the other
for the First Japanese Secretary, who was not a Japanese but an American
who had mastered the language.
The compound itself, in which all the buildings stand, is really a
garden, with cherries and plums and twisted trees, an arbour of
wisteria, and, of course, a little pond and bridge. The snow that came
several times during the winter only added to its charm, making of it a
place where sprites would have loved to dance.
The front door of the Embassy opened into a large hall with a staircase
at one side. On the left was the Ambassador's private office, which
connected directly with the chancery offices, while on the right was a
small reception-room with an open fire. I often received guests in this
room for tea; it was done in green and had Japanese brasses and prints
upon the walls. Opening out of it was another small parlour done in pink
and white, with rows of books about; from this one entered a
drawing-room with red brocade on the walls, heavy furniture, and a
piano. This led in turn into a large dining-room, finished in white,
with an enclosed veranda outside.
Up-stairs there were four bedrooms, a library, and a long enclosed
balcony into which the sun poured all the morning. The bedrooms were
large and barn-like, but with the aid of Japanese crêpes and rugs they
came to look quite attractive.
The place which I liked best of all was a writing-room on the veranda.
On a table covered with a blue and white Chinese cloth stood a small
_hibachi_, a fire-box for warming the hands, made of hammered brass,
with fantastic chrysanthemums and leaves. There were also a long Korean
pipe and a shorter Japanese one, as well as a gun-metal box that we had
bought in Kyoto, inlaid with a crouching gold tiger. On the wall were
red and green prints. Pottery and baskets with plants in them, and a
bowl of goldfish, completed the decorations of this little den.
A few stray pieces of furniture, rather the worse for wear, were the
only things owned by the Government, but we had arranged to rent the
furnishings of my husband's predecessor. Fortunately these were
attractive things, so that the house was ready for use upon our arrival.
It is much harder than one would imagine, even to-day, to get things in
Japan for European houses. The foreign shops which had European
furniture to sell charged well for it, and did not have much that was in
good taste.
During the first few days we were busy unpacking our belongings--some
old Japanese screens that had travelled round the world back to Japan
with us, a few rugs, and our linen and silver. We weeded out the things
we did not especially care for in the house, and picked up here and
there some interesting prints and curios. It was said to be the moment
to purchase porcelains that were coming out of China, and as Jaehne, an
American dealer in Tokyo, came back with some good things, we bought a
few. With these, and with the enchanting little dwarf trees in bloom,
the Embassy soon looked homelike and pretty.
We had already engaged in advance the Japanese servants. These live in
the Embassy compound, and many of them are passed on from one Ambassador
to the next. Their quarters are connected with the Embassy house, and
they sometimes invite their relations to live with them, so that often
fifty or more persons may be found there. As they both eat and sleep
upon their mats and are very quiet, one would never know they were in
the compound at all.
Watanabe and Dick, with the little maids, all wore Japanese costumes.
Watanabe, the "head boy," or butler, had been in the Embassy for
thirty-five years, and had entire charge of the housekeeping
arrangements. He was head of the "Boys' Guild" of Tokyo, and an
important person. Dick was the only one of the servants who had been in
America, although the cook had been in France, and O Sawa, the maid, had
been to China and the Philippines.
[Illustration: JAPANESE SERVANTS.]
Every morning the cook sent up a French menu for approval. European
food, as prepared by the Japanese, is really very good. Turtle, served
in American fashion, is quite as palatable as our terrapin, and the
"mountain whale," or wild boar, is a real delicacy. (In olden times the
Buddhists were not supposed to eat meat, and because it was difficult
for the people of the mountains to get to the sea for fish the priests
allowed them to eat the wild boar on the hills, but called it "mountain
whale!") Some of the meat used in the city comes from Australia, as does
also the canned butter. Cows are few, but we were able to get our own
milk and butter from a local dairy. My husband is very fond of Japanese
food, and as I like it too, often of an evening when we were alone or
had friends who also enjoyed it, we would have Japanese dinners at the
Embassy, served upon the table but in the pretty lacquer bowls on little
lacquer trays. Eels with rice and _soy_ was a favourite dish.
I used to enjoy sitting in the den and listening to the street noises,
they were so strange and interesting. There were the songs of men
carrying heavy loads, and the bells of the men who, in the winter, run
from temple to temple, almost naked, and have cold water poured over
them, as a penance. There was the fanfare of the soldiers, too,
something like that of the Italians, and the flute of the blind masseur,
and the steady whistle of the man who cleans the pipes of smokers. The
newsboys all wore bells, and the people selling wares often had little
drums which they beat.
When not listening to the sounds outside, I often used to sit and look
into the bowl of glistening water where the goldfish lived, for they
quite fascinated me, with their jawless chins, which they kept opening
and shutting for food in such a greedy manner! The swish of their tails
was like the grace of a trailing kimono worn by the ladies of long ago,
while their fins suggested the sleeves of a _geisha_ girl. Some of them
had popping eyes that stared at you, some were so fat that they swam
upside down quite comfortably. They would rush from one side of the bowl
to the other, pushing their noses up close against the glass, as if they
were eager to swim out of their lovely opalescent world. Many humans
live in a world not very much larger than a goldfish's bowl, and never
try to get out at all!
Of an evening one heard the notes of the _samisen_, an instrument like a
small-headed banjo, made of catskin and having three strings. Japanese
music is minor, and being in half tones, which our ear is not trained to
appreciate, sounds very strange, and to many even uncouth. None of it is
written--the songs are simply passed on from one to another. Although so
many Europeans do not care for this music, I find it very fascinating.
But our ideas of what is beautiful are bound to differ. Watanabe caught
a nightingale in the Embassy garden by means of a spider, and put it in
a cage in the house. It had several notes, not all very pleasant, I must
admit, but I suppose it was a compliment when he told some one, after
having heard me sing, "Bird's high note just like Madam!"
In the silence of the night, one also heard the clack, clack of the
watchman at a house near-by, who beat two sticks together so that his
master might hear and know that he was keeping watch. Besides this,
there was the squeaking of rats, the meow of our cat, or the barking of
a dog. It must have been this same dog, by the way, who came to such an
untimely end while we were there.
"Have you heard the news?" one of the secretaries asked one morning.
"Why, no--what is it?" I inquired.
"Perhaps you may remember that the Embassy dog barked so much that our
neighbours complained and we had to give him away. Some _geishas_ took
him, but he still came back to visit us."
"Yes," I interrupted, "he comes back at night--I've heard him!"
"He did come back--but alas! he never will again. That is the news--we
found him dead in the garden this morning. His funeral procession has
just gone down the street, the _geishas_ following the corpse in their
'rickshas."
"A dog's funeral! How funny!"
"Not so funny as something that happened not very long ago, when the
local veterinary died," the Secretary assured me; "our Embassy dog was
invited to attend his funeral. Of course we sent him, and he rode in
state in the first 'ricksha behind the body, followed by other dogs of
lesser rank, each riding in its master's carriage."
Occasionally there would be the tremor of an earthquake. But most of the
shocks are slight--so slight that one doesn't often feel them. Having
been born and brought up on made land in the Back Bay of Boston, where
every team shakes the house, I did not notice one all the time I was in
Tokyo. I had to take the tremors on hearsay.
Tokyo is considered cold in winter. It has a chill wind, but not so bad
as the east wind in Boston. The climate might, perhaps, compare with
Washington, but as the houses are so lightly built, and the people live
upon the floor with little heat, the Japanese suffer a great deal from
the cold. It had always been thought too severe in Tokyo for the
Emperor, who as Crown Prince used to go to the seashore during the
winter months, but this year, having become Emperor on the death of his
father, he was obliged to stay in town. Miss Hyde has perhaps the most
attractive house and garden that I saw in Tokyo. The garden was small,
but you entered under a _torii_ gate, and found a bronze Buddha calmly
sitting beneath a tree. Indoors, Miss Hyde had decorated some of the
_shoji_, the sliding screens, with pretty, laughing Japanese children.
Her wood cuts of these children, by the way, are enchanting. The day we
lunched with her the table was charmingly arranged, with little dolls
among the flowers carrying lighted egg-shell lanterns.
[Illustration: "SECRET."--WOOD-CUT BY MISS HYDE.]
The different members of the Staff were very kind in welcoming us by
dinners given in our honour. Each entertainment had a new feature
introduced. Some of the "boys" are very clever in arranging miniature
landscapes on the table, or dwarf box-gardens. Often electric lights are
introduced among the flowers. Japanese fingers are so deft that the
results are marvellous. At one dinner to which we went, the guests found
little lanterns with their names on them, and sat under a huge,
wide-spread Japanese umbrella. On many occasions the place-cards were
charmingly painted. One was repeatedly fascinated by the fairy-like
scenes that were set on the tables. After dinner we often had music or
bridge--every Saturday night a certain set met for bridge at the Italian
Embassy, and on another evening at the Austrian.
One night, in the middle of a dinner, we heard great shouting outside.
It sounded like a college cry in Japanese and ended up with "_Banzai
Taishikwan_!" The latter word means ambassador. _Banzai_ is often used
as a toast--Good luck to you!--but literally translated, means, "Hurrah!
Ten thousand years!"
At a dinner one evening, we met two Japanese ladies, sisters, who were
dressed alike in black kimonos with white dots to represent a
snowstorm--a design especially appropriate for winter; superb silver
sashes embroidered with black crows completed their costumes. At this
dinner an Italian tenor sang delightfully. For souvenirs we were given
charming lacquer _saké_ cups.
We ordered as mementoes for our dinners at the Embassy small silver
boxes with the American eagle upon them. At Japanese dinners they often
give you exquisite lacquer cups or black lacquer boxes with decorations
in gold, tied with bright cord, or silver knickknacks made in artistic
designs. They are sometimes put on the table in their boxes in front of
you, or passed on a tray, uncovered, as is done at Court, at the end of
the repast, so that you may pick out the object you prefer. It was said
that the late Emperor himself used to design the tokens which were used
on the Imperial table. The little souvenirs are admired and greatly
treasured, both by the Japanese themselves and by foreigners, some of
whom have really beautiful collections which are displayed with pride on
the tables in their salons.
Shopping in Japan is always a leisurely affair. It is fascinating to go
into the queer, pretty little shops with their soft mats, and to enter
the attractive courtyards. If the dealer thinks you are sufficiently
appreciative, he will take out of his _godown_ or treasure-house a blue
and white vase, or a peachblow, and will sit on the mat handling it
tenderly while you drink a cup of tea or smoke a tiny pipe, as you
choose. One may spend days in such a curio shop, discussing the beauty
of a vase, admiring the bronzes, and finally, perhaps, settling upon a
price! It is very exciting when the silken handkerchief is being unwound
from some treasure, and you see the beautiful thing at last, for you
never can tell whether it is going to be a little bronze or a piece of
ivory, or smooth lacquer. We knew enough to make the dealer go deep into
his _godown_ before we began to talk or bargain, for they don't trouble
to bring out their best things unless you insist. When you have seen the
really good work you wonder how you ever looked at the _muki_[2] which
was displayed at first.
[2] Cheap articles made for foreign trade.
After luncheon our drawing-room would fairly seethe with dealers, who
came to show us their curios both old and new, which they laid out on
the furniture or the floor, as it happened. They brought lacquer boxes
and porcelains to tempt the eye, and innumerable wood cuts of doubtful
quality.
Not only the old curios, but the modern articles made for foreigners,
are very attractive, but dealers only make one or two of the same kind,
so it is often impossible to duplicate even the simplest household
things. Besides the silver tea and coffee sets, there are silk
articles--stockings, handkerchiefs, and crêpes of all kinds, beautifully
embroidered--while the modern porcelains are both charming and cheap.
But one finds most of these modern things in America now. The old
Japanese curios that are really good cost more than ever, and are every
year more difficult to find.
The culture pearls are especially attractive, and only the Japanese
produce them. The oyster must be three years old when it is opened and a
piece of mother-of-pearl inserted. This causes an irritation, which
forms a pearl in about four years. They are often coloured pink or blue
by injecting chemicals, but as they are rather flat on one side they do
not bring the prices of natural pearls.
It is possible to buy some furs which are rarely seen in America--the
long-haired rabbit, the badger, and slippers made of monkey-skin.
Wherever we went, we were advised to buy our furs elsewhere. China is,
of course, noted for its skins--the long white goat and the leopard
being among the best--but we were told not to buy in China because,
although furs were cheap there, they were not well cured. In Russia we
were warned not to buy them because they were so costly, but to wait
till we reached Germany, where they are both well-cured and inexpensive.
I must confess that we bought in all places, however, and found them
generally satisfactory. While the Japanese furs are not so cheap as the
Chinese, they are cheaper than the Russian and are well cured.
The main shopping street of Tokyo, the "Ginza," is very broad and has
the most prominent stores. Some of these look quite as modern as those
on Broadway and are several stories high--a great contrast to the little
wooden houses about them. One finds to-day in the city a great many wide
spaces and parks that did not exist a few years ago, but, of course,
many of the streets are still narrow and picturesque.
One lovely late afternoon, when there was a silver half-moon swimming in
the sky, I went for a walk with Osame through the city streets, which
are a continuous bazaar. We turned aside into little narrow ways, lined
with bamboo fences with quaint gates, inside of which were glimpses of
pretty gardens with gravel approaches and gnarled pine-trees, and of
little houses with overhanging roofs that threatened to tumble over with
their own weight. In front of the houses hung lanterns with characters
which Osame translated for me. Here was the house of a "Teacher of the
Tea Ceremony," there lived a "Teacher of Flower Arrangement;" each tiny
dwelling bore the name of its owner--and often his telephone number!--on
a little wooden slab tacked on the gate-post. It was all so typical and
so characteristic--so different from a street anywhere else in the
world. We came to a hill and passed up long flights of steps, coming to
a temple on the summit which is as quiet and solemn as if it were miles
from anywhere. Then we went down again, by another long flight of
stairs, into a busy district, past many pretty tea-houses in which
_geishas_ live, and so out into the more respectable quarter of the
Embassy. When my husband was here twenty-five years ago, much of this
thickly settled part of the city was all paddy-fields.
Some of the signs on the streets, written in English "as it is Japped,"
used to be very funny, but the Government has tried to do away with the
amusing ones, so that to-day they are seldom seen in the city, though
one runs across them now and then in the country. "The efficacy of this
beer is to give the health and especially the strength for stomach. The
flavour is so sweet and simple in here if much drink," was one of them,
I remember. A tailor of uniforms had on his sign, "Gold Tail Shop,"
while another shop assured the passer-by that "The tas [tea] are restful
and for sharpen the minds." Cigarettes are driving out the native
tobacco; a brand is advertised as being "very fragrant except a bad
smell." One sign insisted that within could be produced "wine, beer, and
others!"
The days at the Embassy passed very pleasantly. Afternoons and evenings
were filled with social duties, but the mornings I was free to spend as
I chose. Mrs. Caldwell, wife of one of the Staff, and I found the
Japanese toys so fascinating that we could hardly tear ourselves away
from the shops. Madame Van Royen, the American wife of the Dutch
Minister, and I had several automobile rides together. Mrs. Caldwell and
I played tennis and sang duets, and sometimes of a morning I would have
a walk with one of the secretaries.
There was always plenty of sight-seeing to be done whenever we had any
spare time. It was a happy surprise not to find more changes in the
outward appearance of the country and of the people since my earlier
visits. The hotels throughout the country are more comfortable, however,
and the European food better. The _naisans_ (maids) and _geisha_ girls
speak a little English now, which they could not do a few years ago. In
many of the towns the streets are wider and are bright with electric
lights, while electric cars and motors are quite popular, and even
flying-machines are to be seen. The cities are more sanitary than they
were, too, although even now an occasional case of cholera is
discovered, and foreigners are still careful not to eat uncooked food.
The yellow journals of both America and Japan have been active in trying
to stir up trouble between the two countries. When we were in Japan
fifteen years ago, some of our papers said that foreigners were in
danger there, but we never saw then, or while my husband was Ambassador,
any rudeness or threat of violence. Lately, owing to the California
trouble, I understand that some rude speeches have been made, and some
writing has appeared on the Embassy wall. When we were there with the
American Secretary of War on our way to the Philippines, no people could
have showed greater good-will than the Japanese Government expressed in
every way to our party, which represented the United States.
To return to the streets--although one sees many carriages and a few
motors, the man-drawn jinrikisha is still the most popular conveyance; a
few years ago there were forty thousand of them in Tokyo alone. The
runners can jog along at a good six miles an hour, and can keep up the
pace for a long distance. With a leader or pusher, or with three men, as
many as ninety miles can be made in a day. As Tokyo is almost as
wide-spreading as London, an automobile is a convenience in returning
visits, notwithstanding the narrowness of the streets, in which people
walk and children play. Pedestrians pay little attention to the warning
of the automobile horn, perhaps owing to the whistles and horns of the
dealers and the other noises of the busy streets.
There are some large new brick buildings in Tokyo, and a new railway
station is being built. Some of the European government buildings are
quite handsome, as well as very large and imposing--they would look big
anywhere, whether one admired their architecture or not. There are also
two large European hotels, and a good bank.
[Illustration: SHIBA PARK, TOKYO.]
Shiba Park is not very far from the Embassy. People go there to see the
Shiba Temples, which were built in honour of the sixth, seventh, and
ninth shoguns. As usual, one enters through a _torii_, or gateway, into
a paved courtyard, and takes off one's shoes before going into the
temple.
In feudal times, when the Shogun came to worship the spirits of his
ancestors, he alone ascended to the sanctum of the temple, the _daimyos_
seating themselves next to him in the corridor below, while the rest of
the nobility occupied the oratory.
The lacquer in these temples is perhaps the most beautiful that I saw in
Japan, and the carvings are superb. In many places one sees the
three-leafed asarum, which is the crest of the Tokugawa family, and the
lotus, the Buddhist emblem of purity.
Behind the temples are the stone tombs with their bronze lanterns; the
newest one bears the date 1877, and is the burial place of the present
Emperor's great-aunt. Near the tombs can be seen the imprint of Buddha's
feet, which must have been of phenomenal size!
One day we went over the Osaka Museum, which has probably more Buddhas
than any other museum in the world. It is a private collection near the
Embassy, and contains some superb red lacquers, all very well arranged.
It was interesting to note that the porcelains were tied to the shelves,
on account of earthquakes.
One of the most popular resorts, Uyeno Park, which is well known for its
temples and the tombs of the shoguns, is on very high ground and has a
fine view. An immense stone lantern--one of the three largest in
Japan--is there, and also an ancient pagoda and some fine cryptomerias.
During the season people visit this park in hundreds to see the cherry
blossoms.
The tombs of the Forty-Seven Ronins must be visited, so much has been
written about the brave band, and their dramatic story is so often told
in Japan. Under the huge cryptomerias on the side of a hill, one comes
to the many stone lanterns surrounding a sort of court, where their
admirers still place lighted incense sticks and leave their visiting
cards on the dead heroes. By the path leading to the tombs the well
where the Ronins washed the head of their victim still exists.
Briefly told, their story is as follows: In April of the year 1701,
Asano, Lord of Ako, while in Tokyo with the Shogun, was asked to arrange
one of the great State ceremonies. Now, Asano was a warrior, and knew
little of such matters, so he questioned a nobleman named Kira, who was
well versed in Court etiquette. It did not occur to Asano that he was
expected to pay for the information, and when he failed to do so, Kira
jeered at him, and one day insulted him by asking him to fasten his
_tabi_, or footgear. Stirred to anger, Asano drew his sword and slashed
the nobleman, without, however, killing him.
Unfortunately, this happened in the palace grounds. To fight in such a
sacred place is a crime, and Asano was told that as a punishment he must
perform _hara-kiri_, which he immediately did. Asano's castle was
confiscated and his family declared extinct, so that his faithful
retainers became _ronin_, or "wave men"--wanderers.
Oishi, the head retainer, consulted with forty-six of the most trusted
of the band, and they swore vengeance on Kira, who had brought about
their master's death. In time the forty-six became trades-people, while
Oishi himself pretended dissipation in order to put Kira off the track.
But they did not forget their oath of vengeance, and two years later,
during a severe snowstorm, the Forty-Seven Ronins made an attack upon
Kira and his retainers, and succeeded in vanquishing them.
As Kira was a great noble, he was given the privilege of performing
_hara-kiri_, but he was afraid to kill himself, and so Oishi murdered
him. As the Forty-Seven Ronins marched through the streets with the head
of their enemy, the people came out of their houses and cheered. Oishi
laid Kira's head upon the grave of Asano. Official sentence condemned
all the Ronins to commit _hara-kiri_,[3] and they have been worshipped
as heroes ever since.
[3] _Hara-kiri_ is an honourable form of capital punishment, is
also a popular method of suicide. The man who is about to
die invites his friends to share in a farewell feast. Robed
in white, he takes leave of them and enters a screened
enclosure, where he proceeds to disembowel himself with a
knife. A friend who acts as a sort of second stands by and
with a keen sword puts an end to his agony by cutting off
his head.
CHAPTER IV
COURT FUNCTIONS
Naturally, the most interesting event of the winter was our audience and
luncheon at Court. We started from the Embassy at half-past ten in the
morning. My husband was accompanied by his immediate Staff, in full
evening dress, and all wearing mourning bands on their arms--the Naval
and Military Attachés, of course, were in full-dress uniform. L. went
off in a State carriage of gold and black, sent by the Emperor, with a
Court dignitary to conduct him to the palace, and an escort of the
Imperial Lancers on horseback, bearing pennants of red and white, the
Imperial colours. Court carriages with the Secretaries and Attachés were
next in line, each one having a coachman with cockade and golden bands
on hat and livery, and two _bettos_, or running footmen.
I followed this procession in the Embassy carriage, with the Naval and
Military Attachés' wives in other vehicles behind. The coachman and the
_betto_ of the American Embassy presented quite a fine appearance in
their characteristic livery--navy-blue hats, mushroom-shaped and bearing
the eagle, and coats to match, with shoulder capes piped with red, white
and blue.
[Illustration: THE COACHMAN AND THE _BETTO_ OF THE AMERICAN EMBASSY.]
So we started on that wonderful drive through Tokyo. Down the steep
descent from the quaint, lovely garden of the Embassy we drove, the
_bettos_ holding back on the poles to help the under-sized little
horses. Two mounted soldiers fell in behind the official carriages as we
passed down the broad streets. The _bettos_ ran on ahead, and shouted
out warnings to the pedestrians, who always fill the roadways where they
are narrow, and scatter over them where they are broad. Men and women
stood still and faced the Imperial carriage as it passed, uncovering
their heads, and some even prostrating themselves on the ground; others
came out from the miniature shops to gaze; jinrikishas and trolley-cars
stopped, and people got out of them and stood respectfully; the tiny
dolls of children even looked on in wonder, and the police stood at
attention at the corners. For we were going to see the mysterious
Mikado, Son of Heaven, Heir of Two Thousand and Five Hundred Years of
Direct Descent from the Sun-Goddess. Hidden away there in his palace
behind the ramparts and moats of ancient castles, strange and far away,
he is still held sacred by his millions of people!
Every view was like a picture on a fan. We went on past the walled
residences of ancient feudal lords; past the _torii_--the "bird-rest"
gates at temple entrances--through which we caught glimpses of stone
lanterns and the wide-open fronts of picturesque shrines. Again we
passed tea-houses from which the twang of _samisen_ was heard; and left
behind us rows on rows of shops with wares of every kind exposed in
front for trade. Everywhere the men and quaint little women went
stumbling along on their clicking clogs, bowing low to one another; and
every moment through some opening of wall or entrance we could see
delightful little gardens of tree and stone and water arranged in a way
both fascinating and fanciful.
[Illustration: THE MOATS, IMPERIAL CASTLE, TOKYO.]
We came to the broad expanse before the first moat of the Imperial
castle. Beyond rose the great stone wall, grey, moss-grown and
impressive, of huge blocks like those of the Egyptian pyramids. The
branches of the grotesque overhanging pine-trees bowed down to the still
waters beneath, where the lovely lotus opens up its flowers in season
and the great leaves lie idly on the smooth surface. At the corners of
the wall rose the white, many-storied guardhouses, like pagodas with
their curving roofs. We passed through the huge gateway with its heavy
doors into a second wide space, which led to another moat and rampart of
the ancient castle fortifications, crossed another bridge, and entered
the sacred enclosure of the Imperial residence, with its imposing gate;
and finally wound round a gravel road, bordered with great trees, to the
palace entrance, a large covered porch, from which steps led toward the
reception hall. On each side stretched the palace, built in old Japanese
style, low and simple, in its wood colour and white.
Count Toda, Grand Master of Ceremonies, Count Watanabe, Minister of the
Imperial Household, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, and other officials
and chamberlains met us at the entrance. With little delay the bowing
officials conducted the party through long corridors, laid with red
carpets. Here more officials in gold-braided European dress were
stationed at intervals. From the corridors we caught delightful glimpses
of large rooms with gorgeous decoration, and enjoyed the odour of
perfumed woods. The ladies were left in one reception-room and the men
gathered in another.
My husband was conducted alone to the Phoenix Hall, where he was to be
received in audience by the Emperor. Taking a few steps along the
gallery, which looked out into another delightful garden, he faced into
a square, simple Japanese room, in the middle of which stood His
Imperial Majesty, with his interpreter beside him, while at a distance
behind and on either side were gentlemen-in-waiting. Etiquette required
a low bow at the threshold and two others while approaching. The Emperor
extended his hand, and made some inquiries through his interpreter. L.
read a short speech, which was afterward translated by the interpreter,
and handed his credentials and the letter of recall of his predecessor
to the Emperor, who passed them to an aide at one side, and replied in a
very low voice through the interpreter with a few words of welcome and
assurances of the maintenance of happy relations. Then it was indicated
that the Staff might be presented. They entered, making their three bows
as they approached the Emperor, who shook the hand of each one, then
they retired backward out of the room. After they had disappeared, His
Majesty again gave his hand in token that the audience was over, and my
husband made his bows and withdrew.
After this he joined me, and we were both received by the Empress in the
Peony Hall, a small room with hardwood floors, wood carvings,
beautifully decorated walls and ceiling, but no furniture. I followed
L., courtesying at the door as he bowed, and again as the Empress gave
me her hand. The ladies with me followed in our train, also courtesying.
Her Majesty talked through an interpreter, the conversation consisting
principally of questions, such as--"How did you stand the journey across
Siberia?" "Do you not find it very cold in Japan?" "Do you enjoy
flowers?" The Empress is young, bright and very pretty. She was dressed
in deep mourning, in European style, and her hair was done in the
Western fashion. After she had spoken a few words to each one of us we
courtesied and backed to the door. Their Majesties were kind enough to
say they remembered us from our former luncheon at the palace during the
reign of the late Emperor.
In the interval between the audience and the luncheon, the latter not
occurring till half-past twelve, we drove back to the Embassy. Our "head
boy" told us it was customary to have a glass of champagne upon
returning from such a function, so we had some wine and biscuit, which
the Master of Ceremonies and the officer in command of the escort were
invited to share with us. Then we all went out and were photographed by
all kinds of cameras levelled by an army of photographers--as that
seemed to be the custom, too.
When we returned to the palace, we were conducted into the vast Room of
One Thousand Seeds, which, like the Peony Hall, had no chairs; but the
ceiling was magnificently carved and there were beautiful panels and
vases of flowers. Different members of the Imperial family came in, the
men in uniform, the ladies in black European gowns and hats. As the
luncheon was to be informal, frock coats were worn by the men of the
Embassy in place of evening clothes. I was then presented to the
Emperor, who was in khaki uniform, and seemed alert and interested in
everything, and we followed Their Majesties into the large dining-room
near-by.
This room was also vast and spacious, with glass on one side through
which we looked out into the garden. The table was set in handsome
European style for thirty or forty persons, and a number of servants in
European liveries stood in impressive line behind. Their Majesties sat
together in the centre of the table, with Prince and Princess Kan-in on
their right and left.
Prince Kan-in, who was on one side of me, is a cousin of the Emperor,
young and quite good looking. Having lived in France for nine years, he
spoke French well. On the other side was Prince Katsura, who was at that
time Prime Minister and one of the strongest and best-known men in
Japan. Prince Katsura spoke a little English, but preferred German. His
German was not much better than mine, so we did not have so much
interesting conversation as we otherwise might have had. Prince Fushimi,
now quite an old man, whom we had met years ago in Boston, was there,
besides many others.
The luncheon was in European style and delicious. The table ornaments
were exquisite orchids in silver dishes. During the meal the Emperor
sent me several messages through one of the gentlemen-in-waiting, who
acted as interpreter: "Do you have orchids in America?" "Are you going
to Nikko this summer!" To my answer that I had been at Nikko, His
Majesty replied, that his Summer Palace was at Nikko, and that he hoped
we might go there again, as he felt sure we would each time see even
more beautiful things. The Emperor proposed my husband's health by
lifting his glass and drinking, and L. rose, lifted his, and drank to
the Emperor. Then His Majesty pledged me, and I rose, and drank to him
in return. At the close of the luncheon charming silver bonbon boxes in
old Japanese designs, such as the _hibachi_ and the _kago_, or
sedan-chair, and bearing the Imperial crest, were offered us as
souvenirs. We were each delighted to select one of these attractive
mementoes.
After luncheon we returned again to the Hall of One Thousand Seeds,
followed by the high officials of the Imperial Household. Here my
husband and I conversed more intimately with Their Majesties.
Conversation was carried on in a whisper through the interpreter, for
Japanese Court etiquette requires that the voice be never raised while
talking with the Emperor and Empress. Then the Imperial party withdrew,
and the rest of us were left to pass out at leisure and view with
interest and pleasure the rooms through which we were conducted,
visiting the large, simple Throne Room on the way. So this extraordinary
experience came to an end, and remains a dream, wonderful, seemingly
unreal. The day after the audience we went over to the palace, and
signed our names in the Imperial books.
The reigning Emperor is the one hundred and twenty-fourth of his line.
It is said that he wishes to travel beyond his kingdom, but although the
Japanese people themselves seek to be up to date and familiar with the
ways of the Western world, many of them do not wish their ruler to be
so, and therefore do not quite approve of his taking so much interest in
foreigners. In his boyhood the Emperor went to school and seemed quite
well and strong; it is said, however, that he is rather delicate now.
Even then he was astonishingly democratic in his ideas. They tell a
story that, when a boy, while out driving one day, he saw a man on the
corner of a street selling cookies, and said that he wished to have
some. Other cookies were made like them and given to him, but he refused
them. Nothing would do but he must have those sold by the old man on the
corner. In vain the attendants argued that those cookies were only made
for common people, for human beings--members of the Imperial family are
supposed to be divine--the boy said that if human beings and the common
people could eat them, he could eat them, too. So the cakes were finally
bought, and no doubt he enjoyed them.
The beautiful new palace on the edge of the city, at Akasaka, is a fine
building in good European style, much like the palace in Brussels. Here
the garden parties take place. The present Emperor has never lived in
it, preferring his Japanese palace on the same grounds, which he
considers more wholesome, and where he lived as Crown Prince. Audiences
are still held, as in his father's time, in the old palace, which has
been done over somewhat since the death of the late Emperor.
After our audience and luncheon at Court, we were received also by
several of the Imperial Princes and Princesses at their palaces. To
these visits we went in our own automobile, our chauffeur and footman
wearing caps with the American eagle and gold braid on the visor, and
little shoulder-straps of gold that made them look suitably
ambassadorial. Sometimes we took Osame on the box instead of the
footman, so that he might straighten matters out in case of difficulty,
as the footman and the chauffeur did not speak a word but Japanese. In
his frock coat and top hat he looked quite properly funereal. My husband
went in his evening dress, and I wore black. The houses were usually
quite European, but were somewhat bare inside, with a little
old-fashioned European furniture. As we entered, we were greeted by
several officials-in-waiting in fine uniforms, and then were almost
immediately received, quite in the same fashion as by the Emperor and
Empress, except that we were asked to sit down.
One day the Prince and Princess Kan-in received us. The Nagasakis were
in attendance and acted as interpreters. They spoke excellent English.
We had known them before, and had found them especially agreeable. Mr.
Nagasaki is Court Councillor and Master of Ceremonies, as well as Lord
Steward to His Imperial Highness, Prince Kan-in. Prince Kan-in's palace
is a large modern house with fine grounds, surrounded by a splendid
old-fashioned wall and entered by a great old-time gate. It was rather
cold and bare inside, but the Aide and the Master of Ceremonies in their
gold regalia gave bright touches of colour.
The second princess who received us was the wife of Prince Asaka and
daughter of the late Emperor. Again the officer in attendance had been
educated in England and was a man of the world. As at Court, the women
were in European dress and in deep mourning with jet jewelry. The
conversation, as usual, was more or less about flowers, the weather and
the journey.
Later, we were received at Prince Higashi Fushimi's, whose house we
found Japanese in style and especially charming. The room where we were
received, however, had been arranged for the comfort of foreigners, as
it contained a sofa, a table and chairs. Prince Fushimi, who is an
admiral in the navy, was in London with the Princess at the time of the
Coronation. Both spoke English very well. A card was sent to us as a
return visit within half an hour after each diplomatic audience, as is
required by Japanese etiquette.
An important function, which the Diplomatic Corps missed on account of
the mourning for the late Emperor, was the New Year reception at Court.
At this the ladies wear beautiful long court trains hung from the
shoulders, such as are worn at the Court of St. James. I was told that
the diplomats are first conducted to the Throne Room, a large hall,
where two chairs are arranged upon a raised dais, much as at European
courts. Here they march in the precedence of embassies and legations
past the Emperor and Empress on their thrones, then past all the
Imperial Highnesses, bowing and courtesying to each one. After this, in
a smaller room they are served with tea, coffee and cakes, and receive
lovely gifts as souvenirs. Finally, in still another room, they are
received by Their Majesties and the other Imperial personages in a more
special way.
Among Court recreations in which the Diplomatic Corps are invited to
join, is the Imperial duck-catching party, held in gardens near Tokyo in
the spring. By decoy ducks the wild birds are lured into little canals,
on either side of which stand those who take part in the sport, holding
large nets with long handles high in the air. All are silent and alert,
and as soon as a duck takes flight, the netter dashes forward and, if
expert, entangles a bird in the net. This sport is a combination of
snaring and hawking, for if a bird escapes the hunter, it is likely to
be killed by the hawk chained to the hunter's wrist, which is then set
free. Afterward luncheon is served, a delicious duck stew being the
principal feature, and the guests return home laden with the birds they
have succeeded in catching.
The official celebration of the Emperor's birthday includes several
imposing Court functions. When my husband was in Japan in 1889,
earthquakes, reviews and events of all kinds were provided for His
Imperial Majesty's thirty-sixth anniversary. First, they were treated to
three seismic shocks within twenty-four hours, and of quite perceptible
violence. Then there was the Grand Review of troops by the Emperor at
the cheerful hour of half after eight in the morning.
My husband thus describes it: "Aoyama, the 'Champ de Mars' of Tokyo, is
a tremendously large parade ground, which was simply walled in by the
mass of plebeians that had turned out to do honour to the occasion. For
the foreigners the 'high seats' had been reserved in the diplomatic tent
next to the Imperial stand. The Emperor, followed by the Lancers and a
gorgeous Staff, made a tour of the field, and then the troops passed in
review before him. They were about ten thousand in number, and made a
really excellent appearance; the marching and order were good, at times
very good. The cavalry appeared rather awkward, but this was due to the
brutish little horses more than anything else."
"In the evening there was the grand ball at the 'Rokumeikan,' given by
Count Okuma, then Minister of Foreign Affairs, in honour of the
Emperor's anniversary, which starts the social whirl of the capital for
the season. It was an elegant affair, and from the good taste and good
management, it might well have been in Paris. The grounds were
beautifully decorated with lanterns and coloured lights, and the
building was superb inside with bunting and flowers, the national
chrysanthemum being used with excellent effect. The uniforms and
decorations of the guests added brilliancy and movement. There were
almost as many foreigners as Japanese, and nearly all the latter were in
European dress, only a few ladies wearing the native costume. Those in
European gowns carried them off exceedingly well, and danced waltzes and
quadrilles in most approved Western manner."
The present Emperor's anniversary, as I have learned from a letter, was
celebrated in 1913 in much the same way as his predecessor's more than
twenty years ago--with one important exception, the three earthquake
shocks were omitted! The day began with the review of the soldiers at
Aoyama, after which congratulatory poems were presented to His Majesty
by the Empress and the Empress Dowager.[4] The Emperor then received the
Imperial Princes and Princesses, and entertained them at luncheon.
[4] The Dowager Empress of Japan died of heart disease at the
Imperial Villa Nowazu, April 9th, 1914. She was the widow of
Emperor Mutsuhito, who died July 30th, 1912. The Empress
Dowager was born May 28th, 1858, and was married to the late
Emperor in 1869. She was the daughter of a nobleman,
Icliejo-Tadado, and was greatly beloved by the Japanese
people.
The birthday dinner in the evening was followed by the ball given by the
Minister of Foreign Affairs, Baron Makino, at his official residence.
Here were princesses of the blood in white gowns and superb jewels,
Japanese ladies in kimonos, ladies of the Corps Diplomatique in European
costume, priests in their varied robes, and diplomats and attaches in
gorgeous uniforms. It was a brilliant scene. The rooms were lighted by
electricity and decorated with a profusion of chrysanthemums and the
Imperial crest in gold. Long clusters of wisteria depending from the
ceiling sparkled with electric bulbs, and in the supper-room the guests
were seated at tables under the branches of artificial cherry-trees
blossoming in the Emperor's honour.
Some account of our previous reception at Court by the late Emperor and
Empress may be of interest. It took place when we passed through Japan
in the company of the American Secretary of War, Mr. Dickinson, on the
way to the Philippines in 1910. At that time we crossed the Pacific to
the Land of the Rising Sun.
[Illustration: THE LATE EMPEROR.]
News had been received while at sea by aerogram from the Embassy that
the Imperial Mikado and the Empress would grant an audience and
entertain at luncheon at the palace, but there was much doubt as to what
this really meant, for the audience might be only for the Secretary and
Mrs. Dickinson. So the pleasure and surprise were all the greater when,
on arrival, it was found that those accompanying the Secretary were to
be included in both functions.
The invitations, in Japanese characters, were handed to us with many
others on our arrival, but had already been formally answered at the
American Embassy. The instructions were the same then as they are to-day
as to costume and etiquette. They indicated that the ladies were to wear
high-necked dresses with trains and hats, and the men were to be in
uniform or full dress. On the morning of the sixteenth (of July), we all
met at the Embassy at eleven o'clock--as the audience was due at
noon--and placed ourselves in the hands of the Ambassador.
Two Imperial carriages conveyed the important official members of the
party to the palace, and the rest proceeded in vehicles hired for the
occasion.
After the men of the party were presented to the Emperor, in the manner
already described, they rejoined the ladies, and all were introduced to
the lady-in-waiting, Countess Kagawa, and then conducted to Her
Majesty's audience hall. Mrs. O'Brien, the wife of the Ambassador,
preceded, making low courtesies; the ladies followed.
The Emperor, who was in uniform, appeared older than we had expected.
Her Majesty was several years older than the Emperor, and had charming
manners, but she did not smile. Expression, we were informed, is not
considered aristocratic. Her hair and dress were in European fashion,
and she wore beautiful pearls. She had no children--the present Mikado
is the only son of Emperor Meiji by another wife.
Some stories that are told of the late Emperor show how much real
strength of character he possessed. A few years ago, it is said, when a
plot against His Majesty's life was discovered, the Prime Minister went
to him and offered his resignation, saying that as this plot had been
brought to light while he was in office (the first plot against any
Mikado in the history of Japan), he felt that perhaps his administration
had not been good. The Emperor, however, would not accept his
resignation, saying that if the people wished to take his life, it must
be his fault--it must show that he had not been a good ruler.
Accordingly, he ordered only twelve of the twenty-four offenders to be
put to death.
In his last illness, owing to the old belief that his person was too
sacred to be touched, even the doctors were not allowed to come in
contact with him, his pulse being counted by a silken cord about his
wrist. The Empress was at his bedside when he died. The only person who
ever entered his apartment, I was told, was Prince Ito, who came on some
urgent affair of state in response to a telephone message from the
Emperor himself. The Prince was admitted before the Mikado was dressed
in the morning. Even on the greatest occasions, however, he was never
really well dressed, because no one was permitted to fit his clothes,
lest a mere human being should touch his person.
Yet the life of the late Emperor, secluded though he was within his
palace walls, was freedom itself in comparison with that of the ancient
rulers. In olden times, so Hearn writes, "His (the Mikado's) feet were
never permitted to touch the ground out of doors, nor was he allowed to
cut his hair, beard or nails, or to expose himself to the rays of the
sun." His only excursions outside the walls of his palace were made in a
large _norimono_, or palanquin, borne by fourteen men, in which, behind
the latticed windows, he was able to catch glimpses of the outer world
while himself invisible. Even if he granted an audience, he was never
seen, his person being completely hidden by bamboo screens.
The emperors of ancient days were allowed to have three consorts besides
the Empress, also nine maids of high rank and twenty-seven maids of
lower rank, all of whom were known as wives. In addition to these, he
was at liberty to have eighty-one concubines. Only one of the wives
ranked as empress, but the twelve next below her had each a palace near
that of the Emperor. By way of contrast, it is said that the present
Emperor has never loved any woman but the Empress. The Mikado's eldest
daughter was in olden times appointed chief priestess of the Temple of
the Sun, at Ise.
* * * * *
Somewhat in contrast with my husband's experiences were those of
America's first Ambassador to Japan, Mr. Townsend Harris, as he has
related them in his journal. After his arrival in Japan and many weary
months of waiting at Shimoda, he wrote September 25th, 1857, "I am to go
to Yedo (now Tokyo) in the most honourable manner; and after my arrival
I am to have an audience of the Shogun, and then present the letter of
the President!!"
"The manner in which I am to salute the Shogun," he adds, "is to be the
same as in the courts of Europe, that is, three bows. They made a faint
request that I would prostrate myself and 'knock-head,' but I told them
the mentioning such a thing was offensive to me."
After two months spent in preparation for the journey, Mr. Harris with
an imposing retinue started for Yedo, about one hundred miles away.
As a part of the preparation for his journey, "Bridges had been built
over every stream," he tells us, "the pathway mended, and all the bushes
cut away so as to leave the path clear." At one place the road had
actually been _swept_ only a few hours before the procession passed over
it. All along the way the people stood motionless in front of their
houses, and all the shops but the cook shops were closed. The
magistrates of each village conducted Mr. Harris to the borders of the
next, prostrating themselves in salute as they left. The Government had
also ordered that there should be no travel over the Tokaido, the
Eastern Sea Road, during his journey.
In Yedo the American Envoy was domiciled in the "Court" section of the
city, and eight _daimyos_ were appointed as "Commissioners of the voyage
of the American Ambassador to Yedo." Another week was passed in
receiving and paying visits of ceremony, and in arranging matters of
detail. Mr. Harris received as a present from the Shogun seventy pounds
of Japanese bonbons beautifully arranged in four trays.
On December 7th, at ten o'clock in the morning, our Ambassador set out
for his audience of the Shogun. "My dress," he says, "was a coat
embroidered with gold after the pattern furnished by the State
Department, blue pantaloons with a broad gold band running down each
leg, cocked hat with gold tassels, and a pearl-handled dress sword." He
was escorted by the same retinue that he had had during the journey. He
was carried in his _norimono_ up to the last bridge in front of the
audience hall, and before entering this building he put on a new pair of
patent leather shoes. The Japanese, of course, went in their _tabis_.
After a time he was led to the audience hall, past a number of
_daimyos_, seated in Japanese fashion, who saluted by touching their
foreheads to the mat. The Prince of Shinano, Master of Ceremonies, then
threw himself on his hands and knees, and Mr. Harris stood behind him,
with Mr. Heusken in the rear bearing the President's letter.
At a given signal, the Prince crawled forward on hands and knees, and as
Mr. Harris followed and entered the hall of audience, a chamberlain
called out, "Embassador Merican!" With the prescribed three bows at
intervals, he advanced toward the throne, before which the members of
the Great Council lay prostrate on their faces. Pausing a few seconds,
Mr. Harris then addressed the Tai-kun--as he had been instructed to call
the Shogun--expressing the good wishes of the President.
"After a short silence," says Mr. Harris, "the Tai-kun began to jerk his
head backward over his left shoulder, at the same time stamping with his
right foot. This was repeated three or four times.[5] After this he
spoke audibly and in a pleasant and firm voice," expressing his pleasure
in the Ambassador's speech, and graciously adding, "Intercourse shall be
continued for ever."
[5] I have been told that Mr. Harris _shouted_ in delivering his
address to the Shogun, who, perhaps, had never before heard
anyone speak above a whisper.
Mr. Harris then presented the President's letter, after which he
withdrew, as he had entered, with three bows.
Mr. Harris' description of the Shogun himself is of interest: "The
Tai-kun was seated in a chair placed on a platform raised about two feet
from the floor, and from the ceiling in front of him a grass curtain was
hung; when unrolled, it would reach the floor, but it was now rolled up,
and was kept in its place by large silk cords with heavy tassels. By an
error in their calculation, the curtain was not rolled up high enough to
enable me to see his headdress, as the roll formed by the curtain cut
through the centre of his forehead, so that I cannot fully describe his
'crown,' as the Japanese called it. The dress of the Tai-kun was made of
silk, and the material had some little gold wove in with it, but it was
as distant from anything like regal splendour as could be conceived; no
rich jewels, no elaborate gold ornaments; no diamond-hilted weapon
appeared.... The Japanese told me his crown is a black lacquered cap, of
an inverted bell shape."
Two years later Mr. Heusken, Mr. Harris' secretary, was assassinated,
and his own house was burned. But Mr. Harris never wavered. Dignified,
firm, self-respecting, he was always the kind, patient teacher of the
Japanese in the ways of the outside world, winning from them the title
which they love to give him--"the nation's friend." He was a great
diplomat, but his was a strikingly human and Christian diplomacy. He
laid the foundations for America's subsequent dealings with Japan so
deep in the bedrock of justice and mutual forbearance that the
superstructure has never yet been shaken. Our own personal experiences
were pleasanter because Townsend Harris had led the way.
CHAPTER V
LIFE IN TOKYO
Our diplomatic visits were made within two days of our arrival, as
etiquette requires. My first visit was on the Doyenne of the Diplomatic
Corps, Marchesa Guiccioli. The French Ambassador was Doyen, but as he
was not married the Italian Ambassadress was the first lady of the
Corps. When our diplomatic calls had been made and returned, we returned
those made by the American colony in Tokyo and Yokohama.
During the winter the ladies of the Diplomatic Corps decided to have a
day "at home" each week. The period of second mourning for the late
Emperor had begun, and we all dressed in black and white. Dinners and
calling among the diplomats continued, but the official dinners between
the Japanese and the foreigners did not take place on account of the
mourning.
The diplomatic dinners were always large affairs of twenty or thirty
people, and quite formal, with the host and hostess sitting in foreign
fashion at the centre of the table, the ends filled in with young
secretaries. There were but few women present, for many of the diplomats
in Tokyo were not married. Occasionally we found one or two Japanese at
these dinners, but not often, owing to the official mourning. They might
have been given in Europe or anywhere, except for a touch of the East in
the costumes of the servants and the curios about the house.
To show how a Japanese lady or gentleman answers an Ambassador's
invitation, I give literal translations of two responses which are quite
typical.
"WORSHIPFULLY ADDRESSED.
"Having received upon my head the honourable loving invitation
of the coming 25th day, I humbly regard it as the extremity of
glory. Referring thereto, in the case of the rustic wife there
being unavoidably a previous engagement, although with regret,
(she) is humbly unable to ascend; consequently the little
student one person, humbly accepting, will go to the honourable
residence. Rapidly, rapidly, worshipfully bowing.
"Great Justice, 2d year, 2d moon, 19th day.
American Ambassador,
Beneath the Mansion.
Honourable Lady,
Beneath the Mansion."
"WORSHIPFULLY REPORTING.
"Having received upon my head the
honourable loving invitation to the
banquet of the honourable holding on
the coming 25th day, thankfully, joyfully,
humbly shall I worshipfully run.
However, in the matter of ----, although
regretting, (he) humbly declines.
The right hand (fact) upon
receiving (he) at once wishes humbly
to decline. It is honourably thus. Respectfully
bowing.
"Second moon, 20th day.
American Ambassador, Mr. Anderson,
Beneath the Mansion."
Our first reception was attended by most of the diplomats, some of the
American colony, and a few Japanese. In American fashion I had the
ladies of the Embassy pour tea at the large table in the dining-room.
There were over a hundred and fifty guests in all, many coming from
Yokohama. On another of our days at home a huge shipload of tourists
from the _Cleveland_ arrived, which made the afternoon quite gay. They
began to arrive half an hour before time, much to their dismay. It seems
that they had been put into 'rickshas and their coolies instructed to
take them to the Embassy, but when they got there they could not make
the 'ricksha-men understand that they were early and wanted to drive
about a bit until three. When my husband came down-stairs they had
camped outside in the snow, which had fallen quite heavily the day
before; he heard them talking, and, of course, asked them in at once.
One afternoon we entertained some American and English women. I was
quite amused when a missionary's wife came up to me, wagging her head
and looking very solemn about something.
"I suppose you did not know," she said, "that the singer is a very
naughty man."
"No, I didn't," I answered; "but I don't quite know what I can do about
it--" and I'm afraid I wagged my head, too, as I added, "Don't you think
we can reform him, perhaps?"
She must have seen the twinkle in my eye, for she laughed and said she
didn't believe we could. We agreed that he sang very well indeed.
Our last big reception was held at the Embassy on Washington's Birthday.
We had some souvenirs made in Japanese style, little black lacquer ash
trays with the crest of the United States in gilt upon them for the men
and fans also decorated with the crest for the ladies. A good many of
the missionaries came, not only from Tokyo and Yokohama, but also from
the interior.
On St. Valentine's day I took some presents out to Watanabe's house,
where I had asked all the children of the compound to gather. There were
about a dozen of them, sitting on mats and making a very pretty group.
They had put a carpet over the mat, so I did not have to take off my
shoes, and a chair was procured for me to sit in. Then I told Osame to
translate and tell them how, on St. Valentine's day, people in America
send each other verses--sometimes love-verses, sometimes comic
verses--but that as I couldn't write any in Japanese for them I had
brought some little gifts instead. The children all bowed to the ground,
and were very, very respectful--much better behaved than young people at
home! They seemed to be pleased, and after giving each one his present I
withdrew, telling Watanabe to give them tea and cake or whatever they
wanted. But pretty soon he asked if they might come into the Embassy and
thank us. So they filed in, bowing again, and sang a little Japanese
song to my husband and myself, which was all quite touching. We showed
them a toy tiger we had bought in Paris that would spring and jump when
wound up, and a bear that would drink water, both of which delighted
them greatly. After a while, bowing once again, they departed.
We made some very pleasant friends in Japan. Among others we met
Baroness Sonnomiya, who is herself English but married to a Japanese.
During her husband's lifetime she had great power, as she was the
intimate friend of the Empress Dowager. There were also Dr. Nitobe and
his wife, who were among the most delightful people we met. I enjoyed
his books thoroughly, as well as his address before the Japanese Peace
Society, which met at the Embassy.
This gathering had its amusing side, because the president of the
Society had made most of his money selling guns! Moreover, before I
realized that it was the Peace Society which was coming to the Embassy,
I had invited the Naval Attaché's wife and an army officer's wife to
pour tea! Just at that moment it hardly looked as if the cause of peace
was making much headway in the world, for while we were talking about
it, terrible battles were being fought in Turkey, the City of Mexico was
under bombardment, and there was talk of fighting between Austria and
Russia.
One day I called on Madame Ozaki, whom I had met in Italy when she was
Marion Crawford's secretary. Her mother was English, her father
Japanese; she is very pretty and writes charming stories. After living
in Europe for a number of years she returned to her father in Japan and
taught school, finally marrying Mr. Ozaki, one of Japan's most
conspicuous politicians to-day. When I called on her I found her dressed
in European style, but she had the true Japanese reserve; in fact was
much more Japanese than I had expected after her many years abroad. Her
house was partly European, but when the _shoji_ was thrown aside, the
little maid who received us bowed to the ground in true native fashion.
Madame Ozaki did not speak of politics, although her husband had just
made an attack on Katsura, who had been for the moment overthrown. It
was said that she had received threatening letters warning her and her
husband to flee to England.
At this time of political upheaval a curious article appeared in the
paper to the effect that three men had attended their own funeral
services, which they wished to hold because they were about to start on
a dangerous expedition. It was suggested that perhaps they might be
going to take some prominent man's life, but nothing happened, so far as
we knew, until spring, when Mr. Abe, of the Foreign Office, was
murdered.
In order to explain the political situation in Japan as we found it, I
am obliged to touch briefly on the political changes during the last
fifty years,--that is, since the time of feudalism.
After Commodore Perry's visit, the Tokugawa government, whose shoguns
had been the real rulers of the country for more than two centuries and
a half, decided to open the ports to foreigners, while officials at the
Imperial Court of the Mikado desired to continue the policy of
exclusion. Finally the reigning Shogun was brought to see that it would
be better for the country to have but one ruler, and resigned in favour
of the Mikado. This inaugurated the wonderful Meiji Era--the era of the
late Emperor.
Since they had always been men of action, it was the clever _samurai_,
rather than the old nobles, who found a chance to show their ability
under the new régime. They became prominent in both the Upper and Lower
Councils, which were based somewhat on feudalism, and yet showed
strongly the influence of Western ideas.
Political questions were freely discussed, political parties appeared,
and the first conventions were held. The first cabinet was formed in
1885, with Prince Ito as Premier.
The Administration was divided into ten departments:--The Imperial
Household, Foreign Affairs, Interior, Finance, Army and Navy, Justice,
Education, Agriculture, Commerce, and Communications. A Minister of
State was appointed head of each department. The Empire was divided into
provinces, each ruled by a governor. In 1890 a national assembly was
granted, and the first Diet was convened.
The government to-day is Conservative, and is controlled by the _Genro_,
the elder statesmen. The Progressive party, the Seyukai, is led by
Ozaki. The Socialists make a good deal of noise, but are still far from
powerful; their opposition to the Russian war weakened their influence
greatly. The Socialist party in Japan was largely responsible for the
recent anti-American demonstrations.
For many years Prince Ito was considered the ablest man in the country.
Okubo and Okuma were also noted leaders, while Prince Katsura, in recent
times, held great power. Katsura was quite unpopular with the people
while we were in Japan. It was felt that he had delayed a meeting of the
Diet in order to form a party which would be stronger and at the same
time more completely under his control. Each time when the assembly was
postponed by a command from the Emperor, the blame was placed on
Katsura. Finally Yamamoto was chosen to form a cabinet, which took a
long time to do on account of the different parties. Ozaki, as head of
the Progressives, wished to dictate to Yamamoto, but the latter would
not comply, so things came to a standstill. People seemed to think that
Ozaki was going too far, and that he had better take half a loaf instead
of insisting upon a whole one. It appeared that the Japanese were not as
yet advanced enough for his ideas, or else that he was too advanced for
theirs. Later on, his party yielded somewhat, and Yamamoto made up his
cabinet with Ozaki left out.
After the trouble had all blown over, people said that it had all been
worked out by clever Katsura. If this is true, it was one of his last
achievements, for the Prince, who is considered the greatest Premier
Japan ever had, died in October, 1913. His career was an interesting
one. His father belonged to the _samurai_ class, and the boy, Katsura
Taro, became a staff officer when only twenty-one. During the
Franco-Prussian war he was in Germany studying military tactics. Later
he was given charge of the reorganizing and modernizing of the Japanese
army. The success of the Japanese in the Chinese and Russian wars is
attributed to his genius and to his "silent and unrewarded toil." Only
after the battle of the Yalu, when he was made viscount, did his work
begin to be appreciated. Later he was created prince. After the Chinese
war he changed from soldier to statesman--was four times Prime Minister,
and "almost a whole cabinet in himself."
Internal politics do not run any more smoothly in Japan than they do in
our own country. On account of the frequent changes of cabinet there was
often rioting in front of the Diet during the winter we were at the
Embassy. Newspaper offices were attacked and burned, and the mob seemed
to have an especial grudge against the police, who were hardly able to
cope with the situation. Hearing that there was rioting near the Embassy
one evening after dinner, several of us walked to a _matsuri_ not far
away, but the crowd was dispersing when we arrived, and only the
policeman's sentry-box, which was overturned, remained to tell the tale.
* * * * *
Clubs are an important element in our modern civilization, and
especially for foreigners in the Orient, where bachelors so greatly
predominate--I believe the proportion is even more than that of forlorn
damsels in Massachusetts. At Yokohama there are two organizations, the
Yokohama United and a German club, besides the two American societies,
the Asiatic and the Columbia.
The Tokyo Club has the reputation of being the most charming in the
East. It is splendidly situated on a hill near the American Embassy. The
charges are moderate, and the service is generally good. Japanese as
well as Europeans belong to it. While we were in Tokyo my husband was
invited to become the foreign vice-president, the president being an
Imperial Prince. At first he begged off, but a committee of the club
visited him and urged him to accept the office, saying that the Japanese
were anxious to pay our country a compliment. The Tokyo Club is more
than a register of social prominence in the city--it is also important
as a political barometer, and this polite insistence upon L.'s accepting
the place was, in its way, a tribute to America.
Many adventurers come to the East to seek their fortunes, and one hears
strange stories, tragic or romantic as the case may be. A lover waits on
the dock for his fiancée on the steamer, only to find that she has
decided at the last moment to marry another whom she has met on the
voyage; a wife returns from a long vacation at home to find her husband
consoling himself with a _geisha_; a father who comes out to look for
his son discovers him deep in debt and drinking himself to death. Such
are a few of the many tales we heard.
Some differences in social customs may be noted here. It is polite, for
instance, to remove your shoes at the door on entering a Japanese home.
After you have entered it is only polite, as well as modest, to remain
near the door! When you are offered tea or anything of the sort, it must
be twice declined, but the third time it may be accepted.
In conversation one must exalt the person addressed, while everything
belonging to the speaker must be held of no value at all. A father, on
taking a bright boy to the teacher, would naturally say, "O honourable
teacher, here is my idiot son!" And a mother, no matter how deeply she
may feel the death of a child, must shed no tears but continue to smile
and say, "Oh--child no good!"
What Hearn says about poetry is also true of the Japanese smile. When in
danger, smile; when angry, smile; when sad, smile; in fact, it is
etiquette always to smile! In so many ways the Japanese are an admirable
race, and in none more so than in this. Their instincts are all for good
taste and good manners.
Speaking of manners--of course, standards vary. It used to be a common
thing in the country villages to see men and women bathing together in
large tanks, but as Westerners disapproved of this custom, a few years
ago an order went forth that men and women bathing together must put on
suits. The result is that to-day they sit on the edge of the tank, or on
the seashore, and dress and undress as they have always done, before one
another, and wonder why they are obliged to put on bathing-suits when
they go into the water! But an order is an order, they say, and must be
obeyed.
In 1897, when we were in Japan, foreign clothes and top-hats were very
popular, and to-day queer combinations of clothes are still noticeable.
The foreign cap is much worn by the men, and a sort of loose-sleeved
overcoat of English cloth, like an opera coat, is used in winter, worn
over the kimono. But the _tabis_, or linen socks made like a mitten, and
the clogs, are worn as before, while often an unmounted fur skin is
wrapped about the neck. People well dressed in European clothes are
called "high-collared"--in fact, this expression is applied to almost
anything that is Western and modern. Many of the men who have been
abroad are very correctly and smartly clad, but they usually put on a
Japanese costume in the evening, for they call the European dress an
"uncomfortable bag."
Some of the "high-collared" Japanese have at least one meal a day in
European style, and part of the house is usually devoted to foreign
furniture. They also believe that milk and meat should be eaten in order
to make the race grow larger. Most of the men are anxious to learn
Western ideas, and take great pride in showing inventions that have been
introduced. They consider themselves quite up to date, and so they are
in many ways.
When my husband was first in Japan, in 1889, a woman's highest desire
was to wear European clothes, and if she could hire a costume and be
photographed in it, she was perfectly happy. But I do not think they
feel like that to-day. The novelty has worn off. Besides, Japanese
dressmaking is a very simple matter; a kimono is made of straight
breadths of cloth basted together. Compared with that, the plainest
Western frock must offer many problems.
It is certainly better for us not to attempt to talk Japanese, for if
one cannot speak it well it is safer not to try at all. One is very
liable to address a nobleman in the language of a coolie, or to mystify
a servant by speaking to him in the tongue of the higher classes--there
are three ways of making a remark, according to the rank of the person
addressed! No one can believe the difficulties of the language till he
has tried it. To master it in any degree requires years of study.
To illustrate this I will quote from Dr. Gordon, the missionary, who
gives a bit of dialogue between teacher and pupil during a lesson. "The
pupil says,'The child likes _meshi_.' 'No,' says his mentor, 'in
speaking of a child's rice it is better to use the word _mama_--the
child likes _mama_.' Undiscouraged, the student tries again: 'Do you eat
_meshi_?' But his teacher stops him and tells him that it is polite, in
speaking to another of his having or eating rice, to call it _gozen_.
Having taken this in, the student goes on with his sentence-building:
'The merchant sells _gozen_.' Again the teacher calls a halt, and tells
him that _meshi_ and _gozen_ are used for cooked rice only, and that for
unboiled rice _kome_ is the proper word. Feeling that now he is getting
into the secrets of the language, he says, '_Kome_ grows in the fields,'
but he is again stopped with the information that growing rice is called
_ine_."
More than one scholar in European tongues has declared Japanese to be
the most difficult language in the world. One has said that a man "can
learn to understand as much of Spanish in six months as he can of
Japanese in six years." Chinese ideographs are said to outnumber the
Japanese characters to-day, and in numerous instances have actually
displaced them, even among the common people. Many characters have two
meanings and only in combination can you know which is intended. There
are no pronouns in the language, nor are there any "swear-words" or
imperatives, the people are so polite.
Family names are also very confusing--to the Japanese themselves, I
should think, as well as to us--because of the frequency of adoption.
Each family feels that it must have an heir to take care of the aged
members while they live and to pray for them when they die, so a child
is adopted and given the patronymic. Blood doesn't seem to count at all,
for even if a son is born later, it is the adopted child who inherits.
Sometimes children brought up in foreign countries take foreign names. A
naval officer told me of a charming Japanese girl whom he knew, named
Bessie. One day she confided to him that she was going to marry Charlie.
"Marry your brother!" exclaimed the astounded officer. "Yes," replied
Bessie sweetly, "you not know--I not father's real child, and Charlie
not father's real child. Charlie and I, we no relation--both adopted!"
Adoption is not always necessary, however, for if a man has no children
he can easily divorce his wife, simply by telling her to return to her
father's house, and he may then marry another woman. The modern law also
gives this privilege of divorce to the wife, but custom is so strong
that she never leaves her husband of her own accord.
Marriages are generally arranged by the parents, with the assistance of
a mutual friend. The man and girl are allowed to see each other, but
although they are not actually forced into marriage, few would dare to
disobey their parents' wishes in the matter. They have a wedding feast,
at which the bride and groom sit on the floor facing each other. The
ceremony sometimes consists of their both drinking from a two-spouted
tea-pot. The bride is clad in a white kimono and veil, which she keeps
all her life, and wears once more when she is dead. Many presents are
received, but the gifts of the groom, which are as costly as he can
afford, are offered by the bride to her parents in gratitude for all
that they have done for her in the past.
After the wedding the husband takes his bride to his home, no doubt to
live with his father and mother. The wife must not only obey her
husband, but is also much under the rule of her mother-in-law. A man
sometimes brings his concubine into the house, and often her children as
well, and these his wife is obliged to adopt. If husband and wife
disagree, the go-between is usually consulted, and occasionally succeeds
in arranging matters.
Japanese ladies, as a rule, do not go about very much, except those who
have married foreigners or have lived abroad. A few ladies appear at
foreign dinners with their husbands, but very often the men have dinners
at which their wives do not appear. This may be partly owing to their
inability to speak English.
But, as a whole, the women have little pleasure. When the man of the
house entertains, he either takes his guests to a tea-house or calls in
a _geisha_ to help him do the honours, while his wife sits apart in a
room by herself and is neither seen nor heard. The diversions, even of
the well-to-do, are few, comprising the arrangement of flowers, the
composition of poetry, and an occasional visit to the theatre.
Women are employed in manual work, in the fields, and in the loading of
coal in the big ports, and more and more in the new industries. The
kitchen-standard of wifehood is disappearing. Last winter a woman made a
speech in public; this caused great excitement--in fact, it was said
that she was the first Japanese woman to do such a thing. In spite of
the many changes which are coming about, they are as far from being
suffragists as we were a hundred years ago. The sex as a whole are a
long way from anything like economic freedom.
A woman has recently been made bank-president in Tokyo--a quite
unheard-of innovation. She is Madame Seno, a sort of Japanese Hetty
Green. In spite of the fact that she is over seventy, she goes to her
office every morning punctually. Her tastes are very frugal. She wears
plain cotton kimonos, and travels third-class. At the outbreak of the
Russian war, however, she was the first to offer her subscription to the
Government.
The children have a very good time, spinning tops, flying kites, and
playing battledore and shuttlecock. In the life of Japan everything has
its place and period, and the children's games succeed one another in
such due order that it is almost impossible to buy the toys of one month
when the season has passed into the next month. It is extraordinary how
the little people combine their work and play, for you see a small boy
carrying a baby on his back staggering around on stilts, and another
small boy pulling a loaded cart and rolling a hoop at the same time, and
little girls with littler girls on their backs tossing balls into the
air or bouncing them in the streets. It is really an unusual thing to
see a woman or young girl in the street without a baby attached to her.
I think one of the reasons why the Japanese race has not grown larger is
because the children from a very early age carry such weights on their
backs.
[Illustration: "_Little girls with littler girls on their backs_"]
Mr. Brownell tells a story of a Japanese girl which shows the filial
duty and faithfulness that prevail. It seems she fell in love with a
foreigner, and he with her. His intentions were good, and, although he
was obliged to go away on a trip, he wrote her that he would soon be
back to make her his wife. During his absence, however, her parents
arranged another marriage for the girl, and on his return he found this
letter from her:
"SIR:--
"I am married and is called Mrs. Sodesuka, and by our Japanese
morality and my natural temperament I decline for ever your
impoliteness letter."
"SODESUKA OTOKU."
CHAPTER VI
THE GROWING EMPIRE
Although in many of her newer phases Japan is less fascinating to the
casual tourist than where she is still "unspoiled," the efforts she is
making to get into step with the rest of the world, and to solve the
problems which are confronting her, are full of interest to the student
and to the more sympathetic traveller.
To wide-awake Americans the growing Japan should be of especial
interest, since however much we believe in and hope for continued peace
between the two nations, there is bound to be more or less commercial
competition.
Where the British Islands have stood in regard to shipping and commerce
on the Atlantic, the islands of Nippon bid fair to stand on the Pacific.
Even to-day the Pacific is by no means an empty ocean, but its
development still lies largely in the future. It is the near future,
however, and Japan knows it. The Panama Canal is almost completed; China
is awakened and beginning to take active notice; Japanese colonies are
being planted in South America and elsewhere.
While many countries of the Western world are facing a falling
birth-rate, Japan's is rising rapidly. There is a tradition which
accounts for this state of affairs. It seems that there was once a
quarrel between the creators of the land, Izanami threatening his wife,
Izanagi, that he would cause the population to die off at the rate of a
thousand a day. The goddess, however, got the last word, and increased
the birth-rate to fifteen hundred a day. Apparently she has been able to
maintain the ratio to the present time--at any rate, there is an annual
gain of half a million.
With a population already averaging three hundred to every habitable
square mile, it is little wonder that the nation feels the need of
extending her boundaries and to that end is trying to open up new
territory to her emigrants.
Emigration began in 1885, when the King of Hawaii called for settlers in
his island realm. Emigration societies were organized, under the control
of the Minister of Foreign Affairs, and to-day the men of Nippon greatly
outnumber the whites. The Foreign Minister still has entire charge of
the societies: he grants all passports, and sees to the proper
distribution of the thousands who every year leave their own country to
settle more or less permanently in other parts of the world. Many
emigrants go to Manchuria, Korea and Formosa, some to the Malay
Peninsula and Australia, a few to the Philippines, and an increasing
number to Central and South America. But they are a home-loving people,
and eventually three-fourths of those who go out, return to Japan to
settle down once more with their families.
Greatly to Japan's mortification, her people have been repulsed in
California. Professor Peabody of Harvard returned recently from a trip
to the Orient, and had this to say on the subject: "We accept as
citizens the off-scourings of Eastern Europe, and shut our door on the
thrifty Japanese, whose colour may be no darker and whose descent may be
from the same original stock. What nags the Japanese in the matter is
the indirect insinuation of bad blood, the intimation that a people
whose education is compulsory and self-help is universal may not prove
as serviceable elements in a commercial democracy as the average of
Syrians or Copts; that, in short, the Far East is intrinsically inferior
to the Near East." He points out that after twenty years the Japanese
hold only about one per cent. of the agricultural land in the State of
California, and that there are five thousand less of them there now than
there were three years ago, owing to a "Gentlemen's Agreement," by which
Japan limits her emigration to the United States.
This land question came up after we left Tokyo, but it naturally
interested us intensely. The Californians seem to fear the Japanese
because they live so cheaply and work so hard that it is thought they
may come in time to own the whole state.
A recent competition, with a prize offered for the best essay on the
California trouble, showed a world-wide ignorance of the real situation
and its causes. Since this was true of both American and Japanese
competitors, it seems to show that even the more educated among us need
to think and study more deeply into the problem before making up our
minds.
An extract from the _Japan Magazine_, which is published in Tokyo, shows
how men of the better class feel regarding the land question: "Japan is
not angry, but she is earnestly anxious to know whether America will
rest content to allow the California attitude to pass as national. No,
Japan is not wrathful, but she is mortified to see any section of the
country that calls itself her friend, somewhat abruptly suggest that her
absence is preferred to her presence.... Happily, the California
attitude does not represent the American people, so that Japan still has
hopes of a reconsideration and a reinstatement. On the other hand, it is
unfortunate that the majority of Japanese residents in the United States
are not really representative of Japan. Certainly the average of
emigrants going to America is not at all on an intellectual or social
equality with the average citizen at home ... they are the poorest and
most unfortunate of their countrymen, and would never have left home if
they could have succeeded as well in their own country. The same may be
said of every immigrant from Europe.... When the lowest class can do so
well, a better class would do even better.... The main hope lies at
present in so instructing intending emigrants that they will be able to
assimilate speedily and amicably with American society and abide by the
customs and laws of the country."
It is interesting to note that in Japan they talk of the "white peril"
and tell of the cruelty and oppression of Europeans to their "less
civilized" yellow brethren. They have no difficulty in finding cases
where might has made right, even in very recent times.
It is suggested by a Japanese newspaper that their diplomatists, in
dealing with our country, have been imitating the attitude of the
British toward the United States, apparently believing it to be in the
end the one most likely to achieve results. The main features of this
"attitude" are much patience and brotherly kindness, but unwavering
firmness.
Before leaving the subject a few statistics are not out of place. The
reason why the question centres about California is that sixty per cent.
of all the Japanese in the country are in that state, where most of them
are engaged in agriculture. During the last five years the number of
immigrants has steadily decreased. In 1911, the Japanese farmers
produced more than twelve million dollars' worth of crops, which is
nearly twenty per cent. of the entire yield of the state. Reckoning
their labour on land they do not control, however, they are responsible
for at least ninety per cent. of the agricultural products of
California, whether vineyard, vegetable, or fruit. The most successful
farmers are in the northern part of the state, where the low district
along the river is tabooed by Americans, and but for the men from Japan
would be idle and useless. The immense harvest of fruit and grain in the
San Joaquin valley could hardly be gathered without them.
During the agitation against Asiatics, when the number of Japanese was
reduced, and Indians, Greeks, Mexicans, and Italians took their places,
the American managers admitted that one Japanese was equal to three or
four of the other nationalities in agricultural work. The farmer from
Nippon is a hard-working man, always eager to have his own little hut
and a wife and family.
Dr. Sidney L. Gulick, in his recent book, "The American Japanese
Problem," points out the one-sidedness of the attacks made upon the
Japanese in California. He says, for instance, that "When Governor
Johnson and Secretary Bryan came to Florin [a town used as an 'awful
example' of Japanese occupation], Mr. Reese, already known for his
anti-Japanese attitude, was chosen by Governor Johnson to be their guide
and instructor, while Mr. Landsborough, known to Governor Johnson as
pro-Japanese, was turned aside." The report of the State Labour
Commission, which investigated the situation, was so favourable to the
Japanese that the state government is said to have suppressed it--at any
rate, it has never been published.
The _Los Angeles Times_ says: "The Japanese have become an important
factor in the agricultural and commercial life of the southwest. Their
thrift is remarkable, their patience inexhaustible, and they are natural
gardeners, seeming to read the secrets of the very soil and to know
instinctively what will do well and what will do better. The result of
this close study of soil conditions, close observation of crop and
weather conditions, enables the Japanese to control to a great degree
the vegetable-raising industry of Southern California."
Considering that there are more Italians in New York than there are in
Rome, and that one person in every three in our metropolis is a Jew,
while half the population of Norway is in this country--to mention a few
cases--it doesn't seem as if we ought to object seriously to a handful
of Japanese immigrants.
Although California repulsed them, South America has proved very
hospitable to the Japanese. The "Latin-American A-B-C" of Argentina,
Brazil and Chile, receives their colonists eagerly. Guglielmo Ferrero,
the Italian philosopher, finds traces of a possible racial likeness
between the Japanese and the natives of South America. While he is by no
means sure of this relationship himself, he says, "Japan will not shrink
from relying upon the anthropologic theories above stated for the
purpose of opening to its emigrants the ports of this immense and
wealthy continent and establishing the strongest ties of close
friendship where Europeans are gathering such harvests of wealth."
The friendship which exists between Japan and Argentina, however, is not
based upon any real or fancied racial ties. It began at the time when
the latter country sold the Island nation two new warships which she was
having built in Europe, thus proving herself a friend in need.
Emigration to Argentina has only just begun, but the future is very
promising commercially, not alone on account of the cordial relations,
but because the republic offers a good market for Japanese
merchandise--with a population of but six million, she buys and sells
more in a year than China with her three hundred million.
There is a great demand for Japanese immigrants in Brazil, where there
is no race prejudice to be encountered and much fertile land to be had
for the asking. Brazil is a Portuguese country, which is especially
appropriate, since Portugal was the first to send missionaries to Japan,
nearly three centuries ago.
A company has been formed in Japan for the purpose of colonizing in
Brazil, aiming to settle the surplus population in a country where it
will be well treated. At least three thousand immigrants a year are
promised by the company, but more will be welcomed, Brazil promising
land, roads, and transportation from Japan. Farmers, who in their own
country received perhaps fifteen cents a day, are able to save from one
hundred to three hundred dollars a year to send home, while wages are
steadily rising.
A writer in a recent issue of a Brazilian bulletin comments on the scene
at the dock when the first shipload of Japanese immigrants arrived. "The
spectacle was curious and very different to the disembarking of European
immigrants," he says. "The men, many of whom had their chests adorned
with the Manchurian medal, carried little flags in which the Brazilian
and Japanese colours were mingled, green and gold, white and red. The
extreme cleanliness of the Japanese was remarkable; while European
emigrants, and particularly those from the south of Europe, leave the
ship that has transported them in a filthy state, the cabins of the boat
on which the Japanese travelled were on arrival as neat as at the time
of departure. Each of them had in his baggage ... numerous articles of
toilet, tooth-paste, and tooth-brushes."
As yet there is little commerce between Brazil and Japan, but another
year will probably see a change in this respect, for the opening of the
Canal will make the route four thousand miles shorter, and the
freightage, as a consequence, much lower.
The Panama Canal will make a considerable difference in Japanese trade
with the United States. At present her exports to our country are nearly
double her imports from us. There are now two routes to New York--the
quicker one, to San Francisco and thence by rail, the slower one, all
the way by sea, through the Suez Canal; the former is expensive, while
the latter may require six months. It will be possible to make the trip
by way of Panama in almost the time needed for the shorter route, but
with the low freightage charge of the longer.
The Canal will also facilitate trade with the eastern coast of South
America, giving direct intercourse, not only with Brazil, but also with
Argentina. At present exports to these countries are sent via Europe and
transshipped.
On account of her insular position Japan has always been a sea-going
nation, but her shipping has increased enormously since the war with
Russia. She now has over six thousand ships, manned for the most part by
her own seamen. The question of building larger liners, such as are
being put into commission for the Atlantic trade, has been discussed. At
present the Japanese steamers which carry passengers are as good as the
American ones, if not better. Instead of buying them abroad, Japan is
beginning to build her own steamships--there are large shipyards at
Nagasaki and Kobe.
In her efforts to cope with her rapidly growing population and
multiplying industries, Japan is seeking trade-openings all over the
world. Her business men are touring the globe in search of them. At
present she is, perhaps, most interested in China, which has doubled the
amount of her annual trade in the last ten years. The first months of
1913 showed a gain of forty-six per cent. over the corresponding months
of 1912 in exports to China, while the United States exceeded her
previous purchases by only three per cent. Of the hundred thousand
Japanese in the former country, nearly all are engaged in commercial
pursuits, rather than in farming as they are in other parts of the
world. Japan also has the advantage of being near this great market, and
with labour so cheap she can easily compete with England, Germany, and
the United States. She could make great profits if it were not necessary
for her to buy most of her manufacturing machinery abroad.
America is by far Japan's best customer. She sold us and our colonies
over a hundred million dollars' worth of goods last year--about a third
of her total exports. Incidentally, she is an excellent customer of
ours, for she bought over thirty million dollars' worth of cotton alone,
in 1912, and much else besides.
Usually the Empire finds it necessary to import the raw materials and
the machinery for their manufacture, while she exports the finished
product. Much of her Oriental trade consists in yarn and cloth; the raw
material is brought in from China and America and sold again to China
and India.
In no way is the growth of Japan more striking than in her industries.
Sixty years ago she had no foreign trade, for she had nothing to export.
To-day Great Britain finds her an interesting rival. Mills and factories
have sprung up like mushrooms, almost over night. The conditions which
accompanied this change and rapid development are worth noting.
In feudal times both the arts and the industries were carried on under
the patronage of the nobility--the _daimyo_ and the _samurai_. They were
great lovers of beauty, these warlike lords; it is said that many a
_samurai_, returning from the wars covered with glory, preferred the
gift of an exquisite vase as a reward for his valour, rather than lands
or decorations. They encouraged their subjects to make things; but, more
than that, to make them beautiful.
Nevertheless, manufacturing conditions were very primitive. There was no
division of labour, so that often a man would need to be skilled in
several crafts in order to make a single article. Each man worked by
himself. A boy inherited his father's trade, whether he liked it or not.
Each trade had its guild, to which a worker must belong if he wished to
be free to carry on his business. These guilds still exist to-day, but
have far less power than labour unions in America or guilds in China.
The feudal system came to an end in 1868, and private ownership of
property began. Organized industries appeared on a small scale:
machinery was imported from Europe and America, railroads were built and
factories started. Nine years later the first industrial exposition ever
seen in Japan was held in Tokyo; soon afterward the Island Empire was
sending exhibits to Europe and America to show the world what she could
do. This, of course, resulted in stimulating the export trade and the
manufacturing of such articles as were most in demand.
After the Chinese war, in 1895, there was a great boom. Old methods of
private enterprise were no longer adequate to meet the increased demand.
Stock companies began to be organized. The Government itself took over
certain forms of industry for the purpose of raising revenues. Improved
machinery was introduced from the Western world, and experts were
engaged.
Since the Russo-Japanese war industries have multiplied so tremendously
that the demand for labour has been very great. Wages have gone up, and
the workers have become much more independent. As yet, there have been
no labour strikes of any importance; fortunately, no Gompers or
McNamaras have appeared.
For the first time in Japan women began to be employed. They are to be
found in large numbers in the factories near Osaka (which is called the
Chicago of Japan) and Kobe, as well as in the districts near Tokyo. Most
of these women are peasants from the provincial sections who serve on
three-year contracts. Children are still employed, although the
Government does not allow them to go to work under twelve years of age.
Wages in all branches of industry are still very low, and the cost of
living is rising. But living conditions, even at their worst, are much
better than with us among corresponding classes. Weavers, dyers, and
spinners receive from ten to twenty cents a day, while a streetcar
conductor gets five or six dollars a month.
The factory owners keep their employees in compounds, where they provide
some sort of shelter free and charge a nominal amount for meals. In the
older type of factory there is often crowding and a low standard of
living, but in the more modern and socialistic ones great attention is
paid to the worker's needs, physical, mental and moral.
There is a fine factory in Hyogo from which many of our mills might well
take pattern. Besides having beautiful recreation and dormitory gardens,
there are rows of pretty, two-storied houses with tiny gardens in front
of each. The owners also furnish a theatre for the use of their
employees, a coöperative shop, a spacious hospital, and schools and
kindergartens for the children.
Japan has more than seventy cotton mills in operation, and can
manufacture cloth as cheaply as any of its rivals. The home demand is
large, since the lower classes wear only cotton the year round. Cotton
towels, printed in blue and white, have become so popular in America
during the last year or two that the export trade in them has increased
enormously.
Four years ago a boy of eighteen, Torakichi Inouye, succeeded to the
hereditary management of a large towel firm in Tokyo. He realized that
foreigners seemed much attracted by the pretty designs, and were buying
them in surprising quantities at the shops where they were for sale. So
he began trying them on the American markets, with the success that we
have seen. To-day his factory is making two hundred thousand towels a
day, and in ten months shipped over 175,000,000 pieces. He originated
the idea of printing designs that could be combined into table-covers,
bedspreads, etc. The patterns for the towels are cut in paper, like a
stencil, and are folded in between many alternate layers of the cloth.
The indigo-blue dye is then forced through by means of an air-pump.
Instead of importing all their machinery, as formerly, the Japanese are
now beginning to manufacture it for themselves. They get the foreigners
to come and teach them how to build steamships and locomotives, and as
soon as they have learned whatever they wish to know they put their own
countrymen in charge of the work. Although at one time there were many
foreign engineers in different parts of the Empire, every year finds
fewer of them filling important positions. This is true in every branch
of industry.
Inventive genius is being cultivated, too, for clever people are not
content simply to imitate. A system of wireless quite different from
that generally in use is said to have been perfected for the navy.
Wireless telephones are used over short distances, and are being rapidly
improved and extended. Quite an advance has been made this last year in
aviation also. Experts in both army and navy are making good records.
In spite of many difficulties several thousand miles of railway have
been built during the last forty years. Engineers often find it
necessary not only to tunnel through mountains, but under rivers the
beds of which are shifting. To make matters even more interesting, there
are typhoons, earthquakes, and torrents of rain which end in floods.
Notwithstanding the cost of building and maintaining the roads under
such conditions, railway travel is cheaper than with us or in Europe.
First class costs less than third in an English train.
For the wherewithal to feed her people, Japan depends largely upon her
native farmers. In spite of their poverty these are of a higher class
socially than in most Western countries. The _samurai_ and _daimyo_ made
much of agriculture, ranking it above trade. The Government to-day
continues to do all that it can to aid and encourage farming. Experiment
stations have been established, and various coöperative societies formed
for the use of the farmers, who also have a special bank of their own.
Prices are rising, and, on the whole, the prospects are good, although
the nature of the land is against any great advance. The surface of the
country is so mountainous that only about one-seventh can be cultivated,
and that is not especially fertile. Sixty per cent. of the population is
agricultural.
Each man owns his own little farm, which he tills in primitive fashion,
growing rice, wheat, or beans, according to the soil or season. Almost
no livestock is kept, and pastures are rarely seen. An average farm,
supporting a family of six, has about three and a half acres.
[Illustration: A RICE FIELD.]
The soya bean, which is much grown, really furnishes an industry in
itself. It has many uses. _Soy_, the national sauce, is made from it,
and also bean cheese. Recently an English chemist has discovered a
method of producing artificial milk from it. Its oil is extracted and
sold to foreign markets, rivalling the cottonseed oil, which is better
known. The pulp remaining is used as fodder and fertilizer.
Rice is the favourite crop and is of such good quality that much of it
is exported to India, whence a cheaper grade is imported in return for
the use of the poorer classes. Instead of forming the national diet, as
we are inclined to suppose, rice is really such a luxury that many
people never eat it except in sickness or on feast-days.
For all the Japanese farmer is so independent, he is often miserably
poor. An acre of rice may in good years produce an annual profit of a
dollar and a half, but there is quite likely to be a deficit instead.
When one considers that it takes the labour of seventeen men and nine
women to cultivate two and a half acres of rice, this is not surprising.
Vegetables do better than grain, and mulberry plantations for the
raising of silkworms do best of all, but it has been figured that a
hard-working man, with very likely a large family to support, does well
if he clears a hundred and twenty dollars in the course of a year. As a
result of this, most of the peasantry are in debt, and many of them are
leaving their farms and going to the city, as they are doing in our own
country.
Really more important than rice, of which we hear so much, is the sweet
potato, of which we hear so little. The first one reached Japan some two
hundred years ago as the gift of the King of the Loochoo Islands to the
Lord of Satsuma. The latter prince was so pleased with the taste of it
that he asked for seed-potatoes, and before long the Government
commanded that the new vegetable should be grown throughout the country,
since it could be raised even in famine years, when other crops failed.
In Tokyo there are over a thousand sweet-potato shops, where one buys
them halved or sliced or whole, all hot and nicely roasted, serving in
cold weather to warm one's hands before delighting the inner man--or
rather, child--for they are a delicacy much prized by children. There is
no waste in their preparation, for not only are the peelings sold for
horse-fodder, but the ashes in which they are roasted are used again
around the charcoal in the _hibachi_!
The silkworm was introduced into Japan by a Chinese prince in 195 A. D.,
and a century later Chinese immigrants taught the people how to weave
the new thread. To-day sericulture is largely carried on by the women
and children of the farm, and is twice as productive as the rest of the
crops. As in poultry-raising, however, the gains are not in proportion
to the size of the plant, the smaller ones being the more successful.
The mining industries have been much slower to develop than most of the
others, although they are of ancient origin. A great deal of
metal--gold, silver and copper--was exported during the Middle Ages. It
has been suggested that Columbus had the gold of Japan in view when he
set out upon the voyage which resulted in the discovery of America.
Japan has been described as the missionary to the Far East. Certainly,
whatever her motives, her influence in Korea and Formosa has been most
helpful. The latter island has been nearly freed from smallpox and other
plagues, while its revenues have been increased six hundred per cent.
Her influence in the liberalizing of China is marked, too, although it
is less concentrated, of course, than in the smaller fields.
The Japanese have an undoubted advantage over other nationalities in
China. Their agents know the language, but more than that, they are able
to adapt themselves to native conditions of living and to "think
Chinese." For ages past China has been the godmother of Japan, teaching
her many valuable lessons in art and industry. It is now only fair that
the pupil should do what she can to help her ancient teacher. Naturally
the form which this expression of gratitude takes is by no means
unprofitable commercially to the younger nation!
"With regard to that part of Manchuria which comes under Japanese
influence," writes a British merchant, "the conveniences and facilities
afforded by the Japanese to one and all in regard to banking
institutions, railway communications, postal and telegraph service are
far and away superior to those afforded by the Russian and Chinese
institutions."
It has taken Europe six hundred years to do what Japan has done in
sixty, and if the little Island Nation has left a few things undone, or
has made mistakes and perhaps gone too far in some directions, it is not
surprising. The marvel is that with the thrill and bustle of modern
business life she has kept so much of the ancient charm and delight as
to make us even to-day feel the witchery of her Spell.
CHAPTER VII
A YEAR OF FESTIVALS
Most important and most generally observed of all Japanese festivals is
the New Year, the holiday season lasting for about two weeks. The most
striking feature to us was the varied decorations of the gates, which
were adorned with a collection of emblems of one kind and another,
producing an effect unique in the extreme, even if their significance
was unknown. These decorations are put up before Christmas in the case
of the foreigners, but those in front of the native houses are not
completed until New Year, and remain in place throughout the holidays.
A large number of apparently incongruous articles are used in
ornamenting Japanese homes for the New Year, and not until we learn the
symbolic meaning of each one of these can we understand their use. They
range from bamboo, ferns, oranges, pine-trees and branches of
_yusuri_-tree to paper bags, straw ropes, bits of charcoal, seaweed and
even lobsters, incomprehensible as it may seem to the Western mind that
some of these objects should have any significance whatever.
As you enter a house you discover, stretched from post to post of the
gateway above your head, a thick, twisted rope--the _nawa_--with the
following emblems suspended from it: first, the _yebi_--lobster--whose
bent back is the symbol of long life, suggesting the hope that he who
passes beneath may not die until time has bowed his back in like manner.
Surrounding the lobster, as a frame to its brilliant scarlet, are the
_yusuri_ branches, on which the young leaves are budding while the old
have not as yet fallen, significant of the several generations of the
family within. Almost hidden by the lobster and directly in the centre
of the _nawa_, are perhaps the prettiest of all the emblems, two dainty
fern-fronds, symbolical of the happiness and unity of wedded life, and
carefully placed between the two, a budding leaflet emblematic of
fruitfulness.
From Japanese mythology we learn the significance of the _nawa_--the
rope of rice straw. Ama-terasu, the Sun-Goddess, in terror of her
brother, Susa-no-o, fled to a cave, from which she refused to come
forth. Then the Eighty Myriads of Gods took counsel as to how they might
induce her to bestow upon them the light of her face once more. They
decided to give a wonderful entertainment, introduced by the songs of
thousands of birds. Ama-terasu came out, curious to know the meaning of
these sounds, daylight returned, and the gods stretched a barrier across
the mouth of the cavern in order that she might never retreat to it
again. The _nawa_ represents this obstacle, and wherever it hangs, the
sweetness of spring is supposed to enter.
But one may ask, what is the connection between the New Year and the
coming of spring? According to the old Japanese calendar, the year began
at any time between January sixteenth and February nineteenth, so it
came, as a rule, at least a month later than with us, and the idea of
spring was always associated with the New Year. Although spring arrives
in Tokyo about the time it does in Washington, January first is far
enough from any suggestion of buds and flowers: but the Japanese keep
the old associations and call the first fortnight of the year
"spring-advent" and the second fortnight "the rains."
The mention of spring suggests a charming stanza by an anonymous
Japanese poet, which I give in Professor Chamberlain's translation:
"Spring, spring has come, while yet the landscape bears
Its fleecy burden of unmelted snow!
Now may the zephyr gently 'gin to blow,
To melt the nightingale's sweet frozen tears."
That the gods may not be forgotten, propitiatory offerings in the shape
of twisted pieces of paper cut diagonally--_gohei_, meaning
purification--are attached at intervals along the _nawa_, looking for
all the world like the horns stuck in the hair in the children's game of
"Horned Lady." Setting off the scarlet hue of the lobster, on either
side is placed a _daidai_,--a kind of orange--expressing the hope that
the family pedigree may flourish. The rather incongruous piece of
charcoal--_sumi_, meaning homestead--comes next, and gently waving to
and fro beneath the oranges may be seen strips of
seaweed--_konbu_--signifying rejoicing.
On either side of the gateway stands the guardian pine-tree, indicative
of long life, supporting the _nawa_, which is about six feet in
length--on the right the _me-matsu_ (the red pine), and on the left the
_O-matsu_ (the honourable black pine). Behind, giving grace and dainty
freshness to the whole, nod and sway the exquisite feathery branches of
the bamboo, typical of health and strength. The full list of symbols is
not always seen, as the task and the purse of the individual are both
consulted before deciding upon his gateway decorations. But even among
the poorest there is never a doorway wholly unadorned; the omission
would be sure to bring harm to the householder and misfortune to his
friends, and the gods unpropitiated would look frowningly down during
the year. Although two diminutive pine-trees before a house may be all
that can be afforded, the dweller within feels as securely guarded
against harm in the coming year as if the whole panoply of emblems were
waving over his humble doorway.
The pine-trees remind me of Bashô's epigram on New Year decorations,
beautifully translated by E. W. Clement:
"At every door
The pine-trees stand:
One mile-post more
To the spirit-land;
And as there's gladness,
So there's sadness."
Much brighter colours are worn at the New Year than at other times, and
presents are exchanged. The older people make gifts of dwarf trees,
while the children give one another dolls and kites, and games of
battledore and shuttlecock, which one sees both old and young playing in
the streets. The small, stocky horses that drag the carts with their
picturesque loads are adorned with streamers of mauve and lemon and rose
in honour of the first drive of the year, and many of the carts carry
flags and lanterns on bamboo poles, so that the streets are very gay.
Tokyo is especially gay the last evening of the old year, because a
_matsuri_, or fair, is held in the principal street, with little booths
illuminated by lanterns, where any one who is in debt can sell his
belongings in order to pay all he owes and begin the New Year fairly.
Small groups go from house to house, carrying the strange lion-dog's
head, which they put through various antics, while they dance and sing
in order to drive away evil spirits. (The lion-dog is a mythical animal
borrowed from the Chinese.) They are usually rewarded by the owner with
a few pennies. People go about on New Year's Day, stopping at the
doorways of their friends to say: "May you be as old as the pine and as
strong as the bamboo, may the stork make nests in your chimney and the
turtle crawl over your floor." The turtle and the stork symbolize long
life.
Part of the preparation for the New Year festival consists in the annual
house-cleaning. This custom is kept up to-day, and is carried out even
in foreign houses. Under the old régime, we are told, officials of the
Shogun's Court sent overseers carrying dusters on long poles to
superintend the work and thrust their brooms into cracks and corners
where dust might be left undisturbed by careless servants, at the same
time making mystic passes with their poles to form the Chinese character
for water. The merchants, too, have their "big cleaning," when all their
wares are tossed out into the street. As one of the Japanese poets has
said:
"Lo, house-cleaning is here;
Gods of Buddha and Shinto
Are jumbled together
All on the grass!"
One of the most attractive customs associated with the New Year is that
of placing under the little wooden pillows of the children a picture of
the _Takara-bune_, the Treasure Ship, with the Seven Gods of Good
Fortune on board. This ship is said to come into port on New Year's Eve
and to bring a wonderful cargo, among other rare things being the Lucky
Rain-Coat, the Inexhaustible Purse, the Sacred Key and the Hat of
Invisibility. This is the Japanese interpretation of our expression,
"When my ship comes in."
At the Embassy the observance of New Year's Eve was a mixture of
American and Japanese customs. We invited all the unmarried members of
the Staff, and after visiting the _matsuri_ we returned to the Embassy,
and as the clock struck twelve we passed a loving bowl, and all joined
hands and sang songs. Then, as the passing year was the year of the
cock, and 1913 was the year of the bullock, some one crowed a good-bye
to the rooster of 1912, and some one else mooed like a bullock as a
welcome to the newcomer, and we had a very jolly time.
But New Year's Day itself is not without its religious and ceremonial
observances. Every man is obliged to rise at the hour of the tiger--the
early hour of four o'clock--and put on new clothes. Then he worships the
gods, does homage to the spirits of his ancestors, and offers
congratulations to his parents and the older members of the family. All
this must be done before he can breakfast.
The first repast of the year is in every sense symbolic. The tea is made
with water drawn from the well as the first ray of the sun touches it.
The principal dish is a compound of six ingredients, which are always
the same, although the proportions may be varied. A special kind of
_saké_ is drunk from a red lacquer cup in order to ensure good health
for the coming year. In addition to these things, there is always an
"elysian stand"--a red lacquer tray, covered with evergreen _yusuri_
leaves and bearing a lobster, a rice dumpling, dried sardines, and
herring roe, also oranges, persimmons and chestnuts, much as in a "lucky
bag." All these articles of food are in some way emblematic of long life
and happiness, and the stand itself represents the chief of the three
islands of Chinese mythology, where all the birds and animals are white,
where mountains and palaces are of gold, and where youth is eternal.
New Year calls are as much a part of the celebration in Japan as in the
Western world. Originally, these were genuine visits, and the "elysian
stand" was set before the guests for their refreshment, but among the
higher classes the calls are now the most conventional of affairs, in
which the visitor simply writes his name in a book or leaves a card in a
basket, often without being received by the householder at all. The
caller leaves also a little gift of some sort--such as a basket of
oranges, a bunch of dried seaweed, or a box of sweetmeats--wrapped in a
neat package and tied with a red and gold cord in a butterfly knot. A
finishing touch is given to the parcel by a sprig of green in a
quiver-shaped envelope tucked under the knot.
The seventh of January was the proper time to go out into the fields and
gather seven common plants, among which were dandelion, chickweed and
shepherd's purse. These were boiled with rice and eaten for health,
strength and good luck.
Originally, the Japanese had no weekly day of rest and recreation, but
in recent years the Sabbath has been made an official rest-day, to be
observed by all in government employ. The mass of the people, however,
bring up their average of holidays by other occasions. There are during
the year ten or twelve special feasts which are always observed--the
Emperor's birthday, or when he eats first of the season's rice crop, or
makes a pilgrimage to the shrines of his mythological ancestors, and
other similar events, are all made the occasion of a national holiday
and popular rejoicing. Besides, every section of a city or district in
the country has a little _matsuri_ every day or two, and these, of
course, are held holiday, but it must be remembered that many of the
festivals mentioned in this chapter belonged to Old Japan, and are dying
out to-day.
Some festivals take the names of animals, such as the Horse Day, and the
years are also named after animals, 1914 being the year of the tiger.
The Fox Temple Festival is well known, when the people pray for good
crops. Among other holidays are the Lucky Day, the seventh day of the
seventh month, when two planets are in conjunction, and the first day of
the eighth month. Certain prescribed flowers and plants are used on each
of these occasions. Any important date, such as that on which a young
man comes of age, or an official is promoted in rank, is also made a
festal day.
The twenty-eighth day of every month is observed by the Japanese, but
more generally in the first month than in any other, in order to begin
the New Year properly. We went to a Buddhist temple in Uyeno Park, where
they beg the god of luck to protect them and keep them from misfortune
throughout the year. Before entering the temple, as is always done, they
purify themselves by washing their hands and scattering little offerings
of money done up in paper. On account of some ancient custom, money is
much more valued in Japan if wrapped in paper. Candles are lighted, and
priests sitting cross-legged with their backs to the audience read from
sacred books. A holy fire is kindled, and each worshipper buys a hundred
tapers and walks from the fire to the shrine, praying, I suppose, for
they seem to be saying something. As they reach the fire again, they
throw a taper into it, and repeat the ceremony till all are gone.
Surrounding the temple are little booths, where toys are for sale and
gay lanterns and good things to eat and drink are displayed, so that
when the prayers have been offered, the people can enjoy themselves in
feasting, watching the jugglers at their tricks, or making small
purchases at the booths.
On the night of February third, distant shouts were heard at the
Embassy. Upon inquiring what the noise was about, I was told that this
was called "Bean Night," when the servants in most houses throw beans
out into the garden, crying, "Demons go out, luck come in." As I passed
a temple that evening, I saw crowds of people, and noticed some Shinto
or Buddhist priests doing a religious dance.
[Illustration: DISPLAY OF DOLLS, DOLLS' FESTIVAL.]
The third of March is the Dolls' Festival, the great day of the year for
little girls. At all times of the year the Japanese have miniature
belongings for children which are very attractive, but just before this
festival the shops are even prettier than at Christmas in America, and
the windows are always arranged either to show the _No_ dance--two
figures in curious dress in front of a gold screen with pine-tree
decorations--or the Emperor and Empress. These dolls are placed on the
top shelf with a screen behind and a canopy overhead to suggest a
palace. Although for twenty years or more the Emperor has generally
appeared in uniform on State occasions, and the Empress has been gowned
in the latest Parisian style, these Imperial dolls wear flowing robes
and have strange crowns upon their heads, the Emperor, too, having his
hair curiously arranged; and they sit in Japanese fashion on a raised
platform. On the shelf below are ladies-in-waiting, then follow
musicians, lanterns and articles of food down the steps in order, all
very tiny and perfectly made.
For a picture of this festival as it is kept even to-day I borrow from
Miss Alice M. Bacon's "Japanese Girls and Women," only adding that I was
so delighted with the toys myself that I bought many of them, and with
the aid of Watanabe set them up in proper order at the Embassy:
"It was my privilege," says Miss Bacon, "to be present at the Feast of
Dolls in the house of one of the Tokugawa _daimyos_, a house in which
the old forms and ceremonies were strictly observed, and over which the
wave of foreign innovation had passed so slightly that even the calendar
still remained unchanged, and the feast took place upon the third day of
the third month of the old Japanese year, instead of on the third day of
March, which is the usual time for it now. At this house, where the
dolls had been accumulating for hundreds of years, five or six broad,
red-covered shelves, perhaps twenty feet long or more, were completely
filled with them and with their belongings. The Emperor and Empress
appeared again and again, as well as the five Court musicians, and the
tiny furnishings and utensils were wonderfully costly and beautiful.
Before each Emperor and Empress was set an elegant lacquered table
service--tray, bowls, cups, _saké_ pots, rice baskets, etc., all
complete--and in each utensil was placed the appropriate variety of
food. The _saké_ used on this occasion is a sweet, white liquor, brewed
especially for this feast, as different from the ordinary _saké_ as
sweet cider is from the hard cider upon which a man may drink himself
into a state of intoxication. Besides the table service, everything that
an Imperial doll can be expected to need or desire is placed upon the
shelves. Lacquered _norimono_, or palanquins; lacquered bullock carts,
drawn by bow-legged black bulls--these were the conveyances of the great
in Old Japan, and these, in minute reproductions, are placed upon the
red-covered shelves. Tiny silver and brass _hibachi_, or fire-boxes, are
there, with their accompanying tongs and charcoal baskets--whole
kitchens, with everything required for cooking the finest of Japanese
feasts, as finely made as if for actual use; all the necessary toilet
apparatus--combs, mirrors, utensils for blackening the teeth, for
shaving the eyebrows, for reddening the lips and whitening the face--all
these things are there to delight the souls of all the little girls who
may have the opportunity to behold them. For three days the Imperial
effigies are served sumptuously at each meal, and the little girls of
the family take pleasure in serving the Imperial Majesties; but when the
feast ends, the dolls and their belongings are packed away in their
boxes, and lodged in the fireproof warehouse for another year."
As we may well believe from the tenderness with which it is treated, the
Japanese doll is not simply a plaything but a means of teaching a girl
to be a good wife and mother. It is never abused, but is so well cared
for that it may be in use for a hundred years. Certain large dolls,
representing children two or three years old, were formerly believed to
contain human souls, and it was thought that if they were not well
treated they would bring ill luck upon their owners.
A story is told of a maid who was much disturbed by dreams of a
one-armed figure--the ghost of a girl or woman--which haunted her bed at
night. These visitations were repeated so many times that she decided to
leave the place, but her master prevailed upon her to stay until he had
made a thorough search of her room. Sure enough, in the corner of a
cupboard shelf, he came upon an old one-armed doll, left there by a
former servant. The doll's arms were repaired, it was honourably put
away, and the restless little ghost was laid.
Lafcadio Hearn says, "I asked a charming Japanese girl: 'How can a doll
live?' 'Why,' she answered, '_if you love it enough_, it will live.'"
But as all things earthly must have an end, so even a Japanese doll at
last comes to the close of its life. It is lovingly cared for even then,
is not thrown away, is not buried, but is consecrated to Kojin, a god
with many arms. A little shrine and a _torii_ are erected in front of
the _enoki_-tree, in which Kojin is supposed to live, and here the doll
finds its last resting-place.
On the eighth of April is celebrated the religious festival known as the
Baptism of Buddha, when crowds assemble at all the temples, and pour
_amacha_, or sweet tea, over the statue of Buddha. In the centre of a
small shrine set up for the occasion is the image, adorned with flowers
and surrounded by small ladles to be used by the worshippers. The right
hand of the image is uplifted toward heaven and the left pointed
downward toward the earth, "in interpretation of the famous utterance
attributed to Buddha at birth: 'Through all the heights of heaven and
all the depths of earth, I alone am worthy of veneration.'"
The ceremony is said to have originated in the effort to
interpret the meaning of the _sutra_--a Buddhist text--called
Wash-Buddha-Virtuous-Action _sutra_. In this we are told that "a
disciple once asked Buddha how best to enjoy the virtue ascribed to the
Master both in heaven and on earth." The answer was in substance that
the worshipper would find peace by pouring a perfumed liquid over
Buddha's statue, and then sprinkling it upon his own head. While
performing the ceremony, the devotee must repeat the golden text, "Now
that we have washed our sacred Lord Buddha clean, we pray that our own
sins, both physical and spiritual, may be cleansed away, and the same we
pray for all men." This festival is an especial favourite with children,
who throng the temples, each one throwing a small copper coin into the
shrine and deluging the god with sweet tea, which is usually a decoction
of liquorice and sugar in water.
[Illustration: DISPLAY OF ARMOUR AND TOYS, BOYS' FESTIVAL.]
At the Boys' Festival, on the fifth of May, over every house where a boy
has been born during the year a bamboo pole is set up, from which flies
a paper carp, the fish moving in the breeze as if ascending a stream.
The carp is the boldest of fish in braving the rapids, so to Japanese
boys he symbolizes ambitious striving. In every household where there
are sons the favourite heroes of olden time are set out in the alcove of
honour of the guest-room. Among them will be seen the figure of an
archer clothed from head to foot in gay armour, with a huge bow in his
hand and a quiver full of arrows on his back. This is Yorimasa, the
famous knight, who was the greatest archer of his time. On this day,
too, pride of family and veneration for ancestors are inculcated by
bringing out the antique dishes, the old armour and the other heirlooms
that during the rest of the year are stored in the _godown_.
The Gion Festival, on the seventh of June, in honour of the mythical
Prince Susa-no-o-no-mikoto and his consort, Princess Inada, and their
son, Prince Yahashira, is famed for its magnificent procession, in which
the car of the god is drawn. In the centre of the car is a figure
attired in rich brocades; in front is a beautiful youth, who is
accompanied by other boys, all wearing crowns; at the back is the
orchestra that furnishes music for the procession. This display is
witnessed by crowds of people, who throng the Shijo Road, in Kyoto,
where it occurs.
In ancient times it was customary to atone for a crime by shavin
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