“John Chinaman”—Engaging a Servant—First Impressions of Ito—A Solemn
Contract—The Food Question.
H.B.M.’s LEGATION, YEDO,
_June_ 7.
I WENT to Yokohama for a week to visit Dr. and Mrs. Hepburn on the Bluff.
Bishop and Mrs. Burdon of Hong Kong were also guests, and it was very
pleasant.
One cannot be a day in Yokohama without seeing quite a different class of
orientals from the small, thinly-dressed, and usually poor-looking
Japanese. Of the 2500 Chinamen who reside in Japan, over 1100 are in
Yokohama, and if they were suddenly removed, business would come to an
abrupt halt. Here, as everywhere, the Chinese immigrant is making
himself indispensable. He walks through the streets with his swinging
gait and air of complete self-complacency, as though he belonged to the
ruling race. He is tall and big, and his many garments, with a handsome
brocaded robe over all, his satin pantaloons, of which not much is seen,
tight at the ankles, and his high shoes, whose black satin tops are
slightly turned up at the toes, make him look even taller and bigger than
he is. His head is mostly shaven, but the hair at the back is plaited
with a quantity of black purse twist into a queue which reaches to his
knees, above which, set well back, he wears a stiff, black satin
skull-cap, without which he is never seen. His face is very yellow, his
long dark eyes and eyebrows slope upwards towards his temples, he has not
the vestige of a beard, and his skin is shiny. He looks thoroughly
“well-to-do.” He is not unpleasing-looking, but you feel that as a
Celestial he looks down upon you. If you ask a question in a merchant’s
office, or change your gold into _satsu_, or take your railroad or
steamer ticket, or get change in a shop, the inevitable Chinaman appears.
In the street he swings past you with a purpose in his face; as he flies
past you in a _kuruma_ he is bent on business; he is sober and reliable,
and is content to “squeeze” his employer rather than to rob him—his one
aim in life is money. For this he is industrious, faithful,
self-denying; and he has his reward.
Several of my kind new acquaintances interested themselves about the (to
me) vital matter of a servant interpreter, and many Japanese came to “see
after the place.” The speaking of intelligible English is a _sine quâ
non_, and it was wonderful to find the few words badly pronounced and
worse put together, which were regarded by the candidates as a sufficient
qualification. Can you speak English? “Yes.” What wages do you ask?
“Twelve dollars a month.” This was always said glibly, and in each case
sounded hopeful. Whom have you lived with? A foreign name distorted out
of all recognition, as was natural, was then given. Where have you
travelled? This question usually had to be translated into Japanese, and
the usual answer was, “The Tokaido, the Nakasendo, to Kiyôto, to Nikkô,”
naming the beaten tracks of countless tourists. Do you know anything of
Northern Japan and the Hokkaido? “No,” with a blank wondering look. At
this stage in every case Dr. Hepburn compassionately stepped in as
interpreter, for their stock of English was exhausted. Three were
regarded as promising. One was a sprightly youth who came in a well-made
European suit of light-coloured tweed, a laid-down collar, a tie with a
diamond (?) pin, and a white shirt, so stiffly starched, that he could
hardly bend low enough for a bow even of European profundity. He wore a
gilt watch-chain with a locket, the corner of a very white cambric
pocket-handkerchief dangled from his breast pocket, and he held a cane
and a felt hat in his hand. He was a Japanese dandy of the first water.
I looked at him ruefully. To me starched collars are to be an unknown
luxury for the next three months. His fine foreign clothes would enhance
prices everywhere in the interior, and besides that, I should feel a
perpetual difficulty in asking menial services from an exquisite. I was
therefore quite relieved when his English broke down at the second
question.
The second was a most respectable-looking man of thirty-five in a good
Japanese dress. He was highly recommended, and his first English words
were promising, but he had been cook in the service of a wealthy English
official who travelled with a large retinue, and sent servants on ahead
to prepare the way. He knew really only a few words of English, and his
horror at finding that there was “no master,” and that there would be no
woman-servant, was so great, that I hardly know whether he rejected me or
I him.
The third, sent by Mr. Wilkinson, wore a plain Japanese dress, and had a
frank, intelligent face. Though Dr. Hepburn spoke with him in Japanese,
he thought that he knew more English than the others, and that what he
knew would come out when he was less agitated. He evidently understood
what I said, and, though I had a suspicion that he would turn out to be
the “master,” I thought him so prepossessing that I nearly engaged him on
the spot. None of the others merit any remark.
However, when I had nearly made up my mind in his favour, a creature
appeared without any recommendation at all, except that one of Dr.
Hepburn’s servants was acquainted with him. He is only eighteen, but
this is equivalent to twenty-three or twenty-four with us, and only 4
feet 10 inches in height, but, though bandy-legged, is well proportioned
and strong-looking. He has a round and singularly plain face, good
teeth, much elongated eyes, and the heavy droop of his eyelids almost
caricatures the usual Japanese peculiarity. He is the most
stupid-looking Japanese that I have seen, but, from a rapid, furtive
glance in his eyes now and then, I think that the stolidity is partly
assumed. He said that he had lived at the American Legation, that he had
been a clerk on the Osaka railroad, that he had travelled through
northern Japan by the eastern route, and in Yezo with Mr. Maries, a
botanical collector, that he understood drying plants, that he could cook
a little, that he could write English, that he could walk twenty-five
miles a day, and that he thoroughly understood getting through the
interior! This would-be paragon had no recommendations, and accounted
for this by saying that they had been burned in a recent fire in his
father’s house. Mr. Maries was not forthcoming, and more than this, I
suspected and disliked the boy. However, he understood my English and I
his, and, being very anxious to begin my travels, I engaged him for
twelve dollars a month, and soon afterwards he came back with a contract,
in which he declares by all that he holds most sacred that he will serve
me faithfully for the wages agreed upon, and to this document he affixed
his seal and I my name. The next day he asked me for a month’s wages in
advance, which I gave him, but Dr. H. consolingly suggested that I should
never see him again!
Ever since the solemn night when the contract was signed I have felt
under an incubus, and since he appeared here yesterday, punctual to the
appointed hour, I have felt as if I had a veritable “old man of the sea”
upon my shoulders. He flies up stairs and along the corridors as
noiselessly as a cat, and already knows where I keep all my things.
Nothing surprises or abashes him, he bows profoundly to Sir Harry and
Lady Parkes when he encounters them, but is obviously “quite at home” in
a Legation, and only allowed one of the orderlies to show him how to put
on a Mexican saddle and English bridle out of condescension to my wishes.
He seems as sharp or “smart” as can be, and has already arranged for the
first three days of my journey. His name is Ito, and you will doubtless
hear much more of him, as he will be my good or evil genius for the next
three months.
As no English lady has yet travelled alone through the interior, my
project excites a very friendly interest among my friends, and I receive
much warning and dissuasion, and a little encouragement. The strongest,
because the most intelligent, dissuasion comes from Dr. Hepburn, who
thinks that I ought not to undertake the journey, and that I shall never
get through to the Tsugaru Strait. If I accepted much of the advice
given to me, as to taking tinned meats and soups, claret, and a Japanese
maid, I should need a train of at least six pack-horses! As to fleas,
there is a lamentable concensus of opinion that they are the curse of
Japanese travelling during the summer, and some people recommend me to
sleep in a bag drawn tightly round the throat, others to sprinkle my
bedding freely with insect powder, others to smear the skin all over with
carbolic oil, and some to make a plentiful use of dried and powdered
flea-bane. All admit, however, that these are but feeble palliatives.
Hammocks unfortunately cannot be used in Japanese houses.
The “Food Question” is said to be the most important one for all
travellers, and it is discussed continually with startling earnestness,
not alone as regards my tour. However apathetic people are on other
subjects, the mere mention of this one rouses them into interest. All
have suffered or may suffer, and every one wishes to impart his own
experience or to learn from that of others. Foreign ministers,
professors, missionaries, merchants—all discuss it with becoming gravity
as a question of life and death, which by many it is supposed to be. The
fact is that, except at a few hotels in popular resorts which are got up
for foreigners, bread, butter, milk, meat, poultry, coffee, wine, and
beer, are unattainable, that fresh fish is rare, and that unless one can
live on rice, tea, and eggs, with the addition now and then of some
tasteless fresh vegetables, food must be taken, as the fishy and
vegetable abominations known as “Japanese food” can only be swallowed and
digested by a few, and that after long practice. {19}
Another, but far inferior, difficulty on which much stress is laid is the
practice common among native servants of getting a “squeeze” out of every
money transaction on the road, so that the cost of travelling is often
doubled, and sometimes trebled, according to the skill and capacity of
the servant. Three gentlemen who have travelled extensively have given
me lists of the prices which I ought to pay, varying in different
districts, and largely increased on the beaten track of tourists, and Mr.
Wilkinson has read these to Ito, who offered an occasional remonstrance.
Mr. W. remarked after the conversation, which was in Japanese, that he
thought I should have to “look sharp after money matters”—a painful
prospect, as I have never been able to manage anybody in my life, and
shall surely have no control over this clever, cunning Japanese youth,
who on most points will be able to deceive me as he pleases.
On returning here I found that Lady Parkes had made most of the necessary
preparations for me, and that they include two light baskets with covers
of oiled paper, a travelling bed or stretcher, a folding-chair, and an
india-rubber bath, all which she considers as necessaries for a person in
feeble health on a journey of such long duration. This week has been
spent in making acquaintances in Tôkiyô, seeing some characteristic
sights, and in trying to get light on my tour; but little seems known by
foreigners of northern Japan, and a Government department, on being
applied to, returned an itinerary, leaving out 140 miles of the route
that I dream of taking, on the ground of “insufficient information,” on
which Sir Harry cheerily remarked, “You will have to get your information
as you go along, and that will be all the more interesting.” Ah! but
how?