A Japanese Idyll—Musical Stillness—My Rooms—Floral Decorations—Kanaya and
his Household—Table Equipments.
KANAYA’S, NIKKÔ, _June_ 15.
I DON’T know what to write about my house. It is a Japanese idyll; there
is nothing within or without which does not please the eye, and, after
the din of _yadoyas_, its silence, musical with the dash of waters and
the twitter of birds, is truly refreshing. It is a simple but irregular
two-storied pavilion, standing on a stone-faced terrace approached by a
flight of stone steps. The garden is well laid out, and, as peonies,
irises, and azaleas are now in blossom, it is very bright. The mountain,
with its lower part covered with red azaleas, rises just behind, and a
stream which tumbles down it supplies the house with water, both cold and
pure, and another, after forming a miniature cascade, passes under the
house and through a fish-pond with rocky islets into the river below.
The grey village of Irimichi lies on the other side of the road, shut in
with the rushing Daiya, and beyond it are high, broken hills, richly
wooded, and slashed with ravines and waterfalls.
Kanaya’s sister, a very sweet, refined-looking woman, met me at the door
and divested me of my boots. The two verandahs are highly polished, so
are the entrance and the stairs which lead to my room, and the mats are
so fine and white that I almost fear to walk over them, even in my
stockings. The polished stairs lead to a highly polished, broad verandah
with a beautiful view, from which you enter one large room, which, being
too large, was at once made into two. Four highly polished steps lead
from this into an exquisite room at the back, which Ito occupies, and
another polished staircase into the bath-house and garden. The whole
front of my room is composed of _shôji_, which slide back during the day.
The ceiling is of light wood crossed by bars of dark wood, and the posts
which support it are of dark polished wood. The panels are of wrinkled
sky-blue paper splashed with gold. At one end are two alcoves with
floors of polished wood, called _tokonoma_. In one hangs a _kakemono_,
or wall-picture, a painting of a blossoming branch of the cherry on white
silk—a perfect piece of art, which in itself fills the room with
freshness and beauty. The artist who painted it painted nothing but
cherry blossoms, and fell in the rebellion. On a shelf in the other
alcove is a very valuable cabinet with sliding doors, on which peonies
are painted on a gold ground. A single spray of rose azalea in a pure
white vase hanging on one of the polished posts, and a single iris in
another, are the only decorations. The mats are very fine and white, but
the only furniture is a folding screen with some suggestions of landscape
in Indian ink. I almost wish that the rooms were a little less
exquisite, for I am in constant dread of spilling the ink, indenting the
mats, or tearing the paper windows. Downstairs there is a room equally
beautiful, and a large space where all the domestic avocations are
carried on. There is a _kura_, or fire-proof storehouse, with a tiled
roof, on the right of the house.
[Picture: Kanaya’s House]
Kanaya leads the discords at the Shintô shrines; but his duties are few,
and he is chiefly occupied in perpetually embellishing his house and
garden. His mother, a venerable old lady, and his sister, the sweetest
and most graceful Japanese woman but one that I have seen, live with him.
She moves about the house like a floating fairy, and her voice has music
in its tones. A half-witted servant-man and the sister’s boy and girl
complete the family. Kanaya is the chief man in the village, and is very
intelligent and apparently well educated. He has divorced his wife, and
his sister has practically divorced her husband. Of late, to help his
income, he has let these charming rooms to foreigners who have brought
letters to him, and he is very anxious to meet their views, while his
good taste leads him to avoid Europeanising his beautiful home.
Supper came up on a _zen_, or small table six inches high, of old gold
lacquer, with the rice in a gold lacquer bowl, and the teapot and cup
were fine Kaga porcelain. For my two rooms, with rice and tea, I pay 2s.
a day. Ito forages for me, and can occasionally get chickens at 10d.
each, and a dish of trout for 6d., and eggs are always to be had for 1d.
each. It is extremely interesting to live in a private house and to see
the externalities, at least, of domestic life in a Japanese middle-class
home.