The Spell of Japan

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Title: The Spell of Japan

Author: Isabel Anderson

Release Date: December 28, 2012 [EBook #41722]

Language: English

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THE SPELL OF JAPAN

THE SPELL SERIES

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

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

THE PAGE COMPANY

53 beacon street, boston, mass.

Court and Gate, Shiba Park, Tokyo

(See page 60)

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 facing1

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

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.

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.

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