of the Chinese firearms. It looks something like a duck-gun, and is
supposed to carry an ounce ball, though the missiles sent from it are
generally of a very miscellaneous character. Some of these guns are
pivoted and fixed on tripod stands, while others are either supported
on the shoulder of an assistant gunner while the firer takes aim, or
rest upon two supports which are pivoted to the stock not very far from
the muzzle of the gun. Of the manner in which the jingall is fired,
Captain Blakiston gives a very amusing account, the whole proceeding
having a very ludicrous aspect to an English artillery officer.
“We explained to them that we should like to see some practice with
their artillery, on which the bombardier, as he seemed to be, went to
the powder magazine, which was an old sack carefully tied up and lying
under a bed in the hut, and brought forth the charge in a tea-cup. Then
he mounted on a stool, and poured the powder in at the muzzle; the
jingall was thumped on the ground, and with a long bamboo, which served
as a ramrod, they rammed the powder home. A little of the already soft
powder was then mealed, and the touch-hole filled with it.
“One man then held on tight to the butt, while another, coming out
with a hot poker, discharged the weapon, the effect of which in noise
and smoke was marvellous; but the poor fellow who was doing the
marksman was knocked heels over head backward. He seemed, however,
quite accustomed to that sort of thing, for, picking himself up in a
minute, he performed what I certainly took for the _coup d’état_ of the
whole proceeding. Suddenly swinging round the jingall on its pivot,
he applied his mouth to the muzzle, and blew violently down it, which
sent the remaining sparks flying out of the vent, and then swung it
back into its former position, by which manœuvre he nearly knocked my
companion off his legs.
“The piece was then left with its muzzle inclined well upward, so that
any rain which might fall would trickle nicely down the barrel and
accumulate at the breech. The picket seemed to be without any shot
for their jingall, for we tried to get them to put one in, so that we
might fire across the bows of our junks, in order to test the courage
of the boat coolies. Probably shot are not used in the warfare of the
interior: our after experience was favorable to this supposition.”
Captain Blakiston rather maliciously adds, that the picket was placed
there for the purpose of giving an alarm by running away as soon as any
body of rebels might come in sight.
I possess a specimen of the jingall. It is exactly seven feet in
length, and is, in fact, nothing more than a heavy iron tube mounted on
a stock, and supplied with the rudest imaginable arrangement for the
match. Altogether, I think that the risk of firing it would be rather
greater than that of being fired at with it.
As for the bow and arrow, they are substantially the same as that which
has been described when treating of the Tartars, the weapon having been
taken up by the Chinese, and its use carefully learned after the same
fashion as has been mentioned.
The most characteristic Chinese weapon with which I am acquainted is
the repeating crossbow (shown on page 1425), which, by simply working a
lever backward and forward, drops the arrows in succession in front of
the string, draws the bow, shoots the missile, and supplies its place
with another. The particular weapon from which the drawings are taken
was said to have been one of the many arms which were captured in the
Peiho fort.
It is not at all easy to describe the working of this curious bow, but,
with the aid of the illustration, I will try to make it intelligible.
The bow itself is made of three strong, separate pieces of bamboo,
overlapping each other like the plates of a carriage-spring, which
indeed it exactly resembles. This is mounted on a stock, and, as the
bow is intended for wall defence, it is supported in the middle by a
pivot. So far, we have a simple crossbow; we have now to see how the
repeating machinery is constructed. Upon the upper surface of the stock
lies an oblong box, which we will call the “slide.” It is just wide and
long enough to contain the arrows, and is open above, so as to allow
them to be dropped into it. When in the slide, the arrows necessarily
lie one above the other, and, in order to prevent them from being
jerked out of the slide by the shock of the bowstring, the opening can
be closed by a little wooden shutter which slides over it.
Through the lower part of the slide a transverse slit is cut, and the
bowstring is led through this cut, so that the string presses the slide
upon the stock. Now we come to the lever. It is shaped like the Greek
letter π, the cross-piece forming the handle. The lever is jointed to
the stock by an iron pin or bolt, and to the slide by another bolt.
Now, if the lever be worked to and fro, the slide is pushed backward
and forward along the stock, but without any other result.
Supposing that we wish to make the lever draw the bow, we have only
to cut a notch in the under part of the slit through which the string
is led. As the slide passes along the stock, the string by its own
pressure falls into the notch, and is drawn back, together with the
slide, thus bending the bow. Still, however much we may work the lever,
the string will remain in the notch, and must therefore be thrown out
by a kind of trigger. This is self-acting, and is equally simple and
ingenious. Immediately under the notch which holds the string, a wooden
peg plays loosely through a hole. When the slide is thrust forward and
the string falls into the notch, it pushes the peg out of the hole. But
when the lever and slide are drawn backward to their full extent, the
lower end of the peg strikes against the stock, so that it is forced
violently through the hole, and pushes the string out of the notch.
We will now refer to the illustration. Fig. 1 represents the bow as it
appears after the lever and slide have been thrust forward, and the
string has fallen into the notch. Fig. 2 represents it as it appears
when the lever has been brought back, and the string released.
A is the bow, made of three layers of male bamboo, the two outer being
the longest. B is the string. This is made of very thick catgut, as is
needed to withstand the amount of friction which it has to undergo, and
the violent shock of the bow. It is fastened in a wonderfully ingenious
manner, by a “hitch” rather than a knot, so that it is drawn tighter in
proportion to the tension. It passes round the end of the bow, through
a hole, and then presses upon itself.
C C show the stock, and D is the slide. E is the opening of the slide,
through which the arrows are introduced into it, and it is shown as
partially closed by the little shutter F. The lever is seen at G,
together with the two pins which connect it with the stock and the
slide. H shows the notch in the slide which receives the string. I is
the pivot on which the weapon rests, K is the handle, and L the place
whence the arrows issue.
If the reader should have followed this description carefully, he will
see that the only limit to the rapidity of fire is the quickness with
which the lever can be worked to and fro. As it is thrust forward,
the string drops into its notch, the trigger-peg is set, and an arrow
falls with its butt just in front of the string. When it is drawn
sharply back, the string is released by the trigger-peg, the arrow is
propelled, and another falls into its place. If, therefore, a boy be
kept at work supplying the slide with arrows, a constant stream of
missiles can be poured from this weapon.
The arrows are very much like the “bolts” of the old English cross-bow.
They are armed with heavy and solid steel heads, and are feathered in a
very ingenious manner. The feathers are so slight, that at first sight
they appear as if they were mere black scratches on the shaft. They
are, however, feathers, projecting barely the fiftieth of an inch from
the shaft, but being arranged in a slightly spiral form so as to catch
the air, and impart a rotatory motion to the arrow. By the side of the
cross-bow on Fig. 2 is seen a bundle of the arrows.
The strength of this bow is very great, though not so great as I have
been told. It possesses but little powers of aim, and against a single
and moving adversary would be useless. But for the purpose for which it
is designed, namely, a wall-piece which will pour a series of missiles
upon a body of men, it is a very efficient weapon, and can make itself
felt even against the modern rifle. The range of this bow is said to be
four hundred yards, but I should think that its extreme effective range
is at the most from sixty to eighty yards, and that even in that case
it would be almost useless, except against large bodies of soldiers.
Of swords the Chinese have an abundant variety. Some are single-handed
swords, and there is one device by which two swords are carried in the
same sheath, and are used one in each hand. I have seen the two-sword
exercise performed, and can understand that, when opposed to any
person not acquainted with the weapon, the Chinese swordsman would
be irresistible. But in spite of the two swords, which fly about the
wielder’s head like the sails of a mill, and the agility with which the
Chinese fencer leaps about and presents first one side and then the
other to his antagonist, I cannot but think that any ordinary fencer
would be able to keep himself out of reach, and also to get in his
point, in spite of the whirling blades of his adversary.
Two-handed swords are much used. One of these weapons in my collection
is five feet six inches in length, and weighs rather more than four
pounds and a quarter. The blade is three feet in length and two inches
in width. The thickness of metal at the back is a quarter of an inch
near the hilt, diminishing slightly toward the point. The whole of the
blade has a very slight curve. The handle is beautifully wrapped with
narrow braid, so as to form an intricate pattern.
There is another weapon, the blade of which exactly resembles that
of the two-handed sword, but it is set at the end of a long handle
some six or seven feet in length, so that, although it will indict a
fatal wound when it does strike an enemy, it is a most unmanageable
implement, and must take so long for the bearer to recover himself,
in case he misses his blow, that he would be quite at the mercy of an
active antagonist.
Should they be victorious in battle, the Chinese are cruel conquerors,
and are apt to indict horrible tortures, not only upon their prisoners
of war, but even upon the unoffending inhabitants of the vanquished
land. They carry this love for torture even into civil life, and
display a horrible ingenuity in producing the greatest possible
suffering with the least apparent means of indicting it. For example,
one of the ordinary punishments in China is the compulsory kneeling
bare-legged on a coiled chain. This does not sound particularly
dreadful, but the agony that is caused is indescribable, especially as
two officers stand by the sufferer and prevent him from seeking even a
transient relief by shifting his posture. Broken crockery is sometimes
substituted for the chain.
The most common punishment in China is that of the cangue, a sort of
moveable pillory. A piece of wood, some four feet square and nearly
four inches in thickness, has a hole in the middle, through which the
culprit’s head is passed. The machine opens with a hinge, and when
closed is locked, and a placard designating the offence is pasted on
it. As long as the cangue is worn, the unhappy delinquent cannot feed
himself, so that he would be starved to death were he not fed by casual
contributions. Fortunately, it is considered a meritorious action to
feed a prisoner in the cangue, so that little risk of actual starvation
is run, and the principal terror of the cangue lies in the pain caused
by carrying such a weight upon the neck and shoulders. This instrument
is often worn for weeks and sometimes for three months, which is the
extent of its legal use.
Finger squeezing is another torture which is frequently used. Four
pieces of bamboo are tied loosely together at one end, and a string
passes through the other ends, so arranged that by drawing it they
can be pulled closely together. The fingers are introduced between
the bamboos, and by pulling at the string they can be crushed
almost to pieces. This torture is often employed by the mandarins,
when endeavoring to extort money from persons whom they suspect of
concealing their wealth. The ankles are squeezed after a similar
fashion, only in this case the bamboos are much larger. Both these
modes of torture are shown in the illustration on the next page.
Most of the so-called minor tortures, _i. e._ those which are not
directly aimed at life, are employed for the purpose of extorting
money. The fact is, the mandarins who are set over districts only
have a limited term of office, and may, indeed, be transferred at any
time. As during their term of office they have to make up a certain
sum demanded by their superiors, and have also to keep up considerable
state on a nominal salary, it follows that they oppress the people to
the utmost of their power, looking upon them merely in the light of
tax-producing animals. It is, therefore, no wonder that a Chinaman of
any ability strives for literary rank, and the privilege of wearing the
button, which exempts him from arrest except by imperial order.
Beating with the bamboo is another common punishment. There are two
kinds of bamboo for this purpose, the small and the large; the latter
being capable of producing death if used with severity. Indeed, even
the lesser bamboo, if the blows be struck with the edge, instead of the
flat, bruises the flesh so completely as to bring on mortification, of
which the sufferer is sure to die in a few days. This punishment is
chiefly used by the peculative mandarins, in order to extort money, and
is employed for men and women alike; the only difference being that the
man is thrown prostrate on the ground, while the woman suffers in a
kneeling posture.
A man of forethought, however, never suffers much from the bamboo,
and, if possible, nothing at all. In the former case, he bribes the
executioner, who strikes so as to produce a very effective sounding
blow, but in reality inflicts very little injury. In the latter case,
he bribes a man to act as a substitute, and, just as the first blow
is about to be struck, some of the officers, who are also bribed, get
between the judge and the culprit, while the latter rolls out of the
way, and the substitute takes his place. A similar ruse is enacted at
the completion of the punishment. It may seem strange that any one
should act as a substitute in such a business; but in China men care
little for their skins, or even for their lives, and it is possible to
purchase a substitute even for capital punishment, the chief difficulty
being not to bribe the substitute, but to find enough money to bribe
all the officials, who must act in concert.
Powerful as they may be, the mandarins have not all the power of life
and death, though they can inflict punishments which practically lead
to the same result. Mr. Milne mentions a case of this kind. Two men
had been arrested in the act of robbing a house during a fire. This is
rightly held to be the most heinous kind of theft, and is generally
punished with decapitation. The mandarin of the district had not the
power to inflict death, but contrived to manage that the men should
die. Accordingly, he had two tall bamboo cages made, placed a man
inside each, and tied him by his tail to the top bars of the cage. The
cages were placed in the open air, in charge of officers, who would not
allow any communication with the offenders. The natural consequence
was, that privation of food, drink, sleep, and rest of any kind,
together with exposure to the elements, killed the men as effectually
as the sword of the executioner.
A modification of this mode of punishment is by covering the top of
the cage with a board through a hole in which the head of the sufferer
passes. It is, in fact, a fixed cangue. The top of the cage is adjusted
so that the man is forced to stand on tiptoe as he is suspended by the
neck. His hands being bound behind him, relief is impossible. This mode
of punishment is shown in the last figure but one, on the right-hand
side.
The other figures speak for themselves, except that of the kneeling
figure with snakes coiled round his body. These snakes are tubes of
soft metal, fashioned in the shape of snakes with open mouths. They
are coiled round the naked limbs and body of the sufferer, and boiling
water is then poured into them, producing the most horrible torture.
As to capital punishments, they are inflicted in various ways. The
mode that is thought to be the least terrible is the command to commit
suicide, because in that case they can avoid the mangling of the body,
and so make their appearance in the spirit world whole and entire.
This is a privilege only accorded to officers of very high rank, and
is conferred upon them by sending the “silken cord.” No cord is really
sent, but the mandate implies the instrument of death. When it is
received, the doomed man takes some of his nearest relatives and most
valued friends to his house, fastens the silken cord to a beam, places
himself on a stool, passes the noose round his neck, and then leaps
off the stool, and so dies. Officers of lower rank, when they see that
they will probably be condemned to death, generally anticipate their
sentence by hanging themselves on their own responsibility.
For criminals of no status, strangulation is the mode of death most
preferred. It is accomplished in a manner exactly resembling the
Spanish garrote. The criminal stands with his back to a post, through
which a hole is bored at the level of his neck. The two ends of a
cord are passed through the hole, the loop embracing the man’s neck.
The ends are then twisted round a stick, and, by a few rapid turns
of the stick, the man is killed. The rapidity of the process is such
that Mr. Lockhart mentions an instance where he and a friend saw a
file of soldiers coming along, carrying a pole and a pinioned man in a
basket. They stopped, lashed the pole to an upright post, took the man
out of the basket, tied him to the pole, and strangled him before the
foreigners could find out what they were doing. The strange part of the
business was that the officials had bribed the apparent culprit and his
friends, as they wanted to make the foreigners believe that he was an
opium smuggler, and that they were doing their best to stop the trade.
Truly it is a strange country.
[Illustration: (1.) MANDARIN AND WIFE. (See page 1429.)]
[Illustration: (2.) MODES OF TORTURE. (See page 1436.)]
To beheading the Chinese have the strongest aversion, because they
shrink from the idea of appearing headless in the next world, and
they will therefore do all in their power to avoid it. A most
remarkable instance of the extent to which a Chinaman will go to avoid
decapitation is given in the following extract from a letter to an
Indian newspaper. The man was a well-known and most abandoned criminal,
who with his wife had been arrested.
“On his trial before his judge he refused to criminate himself,
although repeatedly scourged until his back was raw. If a female
witness fails in giving satisfactory evidence in a court of justice,
she is beaten with a leather strap across the mouth. His wife, desirous
of sparing her husband, refused to give evidence, but after two or
three applications of strap her courage gave way. She confessed his
guilt. The prisoner was then sentenced to decapitation,--deemed by the
Chinese to be the most severe of punishments, because they imagine that
if a man leaves this world _minus_ any of his members, he appears in
the same condition in the next. The culprit, therefore, prayed to be
crucified instead of being beheaded.
“The cross was of the Latin form, the foot being inserted in a stout
plank, and the criminal, standing on a board, had nails driven through
his feet, and his hands stretched and nailed to the cross-beam. His
legs were fastened to the cross with an iron chain, and his arms bound
with cords, and on the cord round his waist was inserted a piece of
wood on which was written his name and offence; a similar piece on his
right arm contained his sentence, namely, to remain on the cross night
and day until he died; another on his left arm had the name of the
judge, with his titles and offices.
“The criminal was nailed to the cross inside the Yamun in the presence
of the magistrate, and then carried by four coolies to one of the
principal thoroughfares leading from the city, where he was left during
the day, but removed at night inside the prison for fear of his friends
attempting to rescue him, and again carried forth at daylight in charge
of two soldiers. He was crucified at noon on the Wednesday, and Mr.
Jones conversed with him at five in the evening. He complained of a
pain in the chest, and thirst. On Thursday he slept for some hours,
when the cross was laid down within the jail compound. No one was
allowed to supply him with food or drink, and during the day there
was quite a fair in front of the cross, people being attracted from a
distance, and the sweetmeat venders driving a large trade.
“On Saturday he was still alive, when the Taotai was appealed to by a
foreigner to put an end to the wretch’s sufferings, and he immediately
gave orders that the vinegar should be administered, which he expected
would produce immediate death; but the result was otherwise, and at
sunset, when the cross was taken within the jail, two soldiers with
stout bamboos broke both his legs, and then strangled him.”
It is no matter of wonder that the woman confessed her husband’s guilt,
for the face is sometimes beaten with a hard leather strap until the
jaws are broken, and the whole of the lips fall from them. In all
probability she was quite as guilty as her husband, so that she was not
altogether deserving of pity.
Decapitation is always conducted with much judicial solemnity, and,
as a rule, is restricted to certain seasons of the year, when large
batches of criminals are executed. There are, however, occasional
exceptions to the rule. The instrument employed is a sword made
expressly for the purpose. It is a two-handed weapon, very heavy, and
with a very broad blade. The executioners pride themselves on their
skill in its management, and, in order to show their powers, will draw
a black-ink line round a turnip, and sever it at a blow, the cut never
passing on either side of the line. Before a man is admitted to be an
executioner, he is obliged to prove his ability by this test.
The criminal is carried to the place of execution in a bamboo cage,
and by his side is the basket in which his head will be removed. He
is pinioned in a very effective manner. The middle of a long and thin
rope is passed across the back of his neck, and the ends are crossed on
the chest, and brought under the arms. They are then twisted round the
arms, the wrists tied together behind the back, and the ends fastened
to the portion of rope upon the neck. A slip of paper containing his
name, crime, and sentence is fixed to a reed, and stuck at the back of
his head. See illustration No. 1, on page 1451.
On arriving at the place of execution, the officials remove the paper,
and take it to the presiding mandarin, who writes on it in red ink
the warrant for execution. The paper is then replaced, a rope loop is
passed over the head of the culprit, and the end given to an assistant,
who draws the head forward so as to stretch the neck, while a second
assistant holds the body from behind; and in a moment the head is
severed from the body. The head is taken away, and generally hung up
in a bamboo cage near the scene of the crime, with a label announcing
the name and offence of the criminal, and the name of the presiding
mandarin by whose order he was executed. In some places these heads are
unpleasantly numerous. In many cases the rope and assistants are not
employed.
There is even a lower depth of degradation than mere beheading. This
is called “cutting into small pieces.” Before striking the fatal blow,
the executioner makes long but not deep cuts on the face and in all the
fleshy parts of the body, taking care to avoid the chief blood-vessels,
so that when the culprit is released by the loss of his head, he may
enter the next world not only without a head, but with scarcely any
flesh on his bones.
The last of the punishments which will be mentioned in this work is
that of sawing asunder, a punishment which of late years has been but
rarely inflicted, and we may hope is dying out, though in reality it
does not cause nearly as much pain to the sufferer as many of the minor
punishments. The mode in which it is performed may be seen from an
anecdote related by Mr. Fleming, in the work which has been already
quoted. There was a distinguished Imperial officer named Sun-kwei who
was taken prisoner by the rebel leader Kih-yung. Knowing the ability
of his prisoner, the rebel leader offered to spare his life on the
condition that he would accept a command in his army. Sun-kwei flatly
refused to do so, saying that as he was defeated he must die, for that
to take service against his emperor was impossible. Bribes, threats,
and promises were of no avail, and at last Kih-yung ordered his
prisoner to be sawn asunder.
The executioners began to exercise their dreadful office, but with all
their endeavors could not make the saw enter the body of their victim,
who only jeered at them for their ignorance in not knowing how to saw a
man asunder. At last Sun-kwei was good enough to instruct them in their
business. “You dead dogs and slaves,” said he, “if you would saw a man
asunder, you should compress his body between two planks; but how could
_you_ know it?” The men followed his advice, and sawed him and the
planks asunder at the same time, he never relenting, but scoffing at
them to the last moment.
It is with some reluctance that I describe, however briefly, these
horrible scenes, but to pass over them would be to omit some of the
most characteristic traits of this strange people. Those who know the
Chinese nation will be aware that I have touched the subject very
lightly, and that the most revolting modes of punishment have not
been, and for obvious reasons cannot be mentioned at all.
Although the mandarins are generally hated by those over whom they are
placed, there are exceptions to the usual rule, and men are found who
resist the temptation of extorting money from the people,--a temptation
which is rendered the stronger because a mandarin who can report that
his district has paid a very large sum into the Imperial treasury is
sure of promotion, and if he has “squeezed” a large tribute out of a
district that previously had paid but a small sum, he may almost reckon
on obtaining the coveted peacock’s feather, with all its privileges.
When an honest and kind-hearted mandarin vacates his post at the
expiration of his term of office, the people subscribe to present him
with an umbrella of state, called “The Umbrella of Ten Thousand of the
People.” It is made of red silk and satin, with three rows of flounces,
and bears upon it the names of the chief donors written in golden
characters. When he takes his formal leave of office, the umbrella
is carried in procession by his attendants, and he is followed for a
certain distance by those who presented it.
The highest honorary reward of this kind that can be given is an outer
garment made of the same material as the umbrella, and also decorated
with the names of the principal donors. This robe of honor is carried
in procession, hung within a kind of pavilion that all may see it, and
accompanied by a band of music. Such a robe is very seldom presented,
and the recipient naturally values it very highly.
While treating of honorary rewards, one particular kind must be
mentioned. If a man distinguishes himself greatly, and feels that he is
under great obligation to some person who has no real claim on him, he
will solicit some high title from the emperor, and then ask permission
to transfer it to his benefactor. Thus it has frequently happened
that a man, without any rank of his own, has taken upon himself the
education of a young lad of promising abilities, and has been afterward
rewarded by finding himself raised even to a higher rank than that of
his _protégé_. Sometimes, when a man who has been thus educated is
presented to a higher title, the emperor bestows on his benefactor the
lower rank from which he has been raised. Thus it will be seen that in
this country every incentive is employed to promote education among the
people, and that not only the educated man obtains the reward which his
powers have earned, but that those by whom he was educated have their
share in his honors.
CHAPTER CLV.
CHINA--_Continued_.
SOCIAL CHARACTERISTICS.
OPIUM SMOKING -- SINGULAR RESULT OF THE HABIT -- MODE OF USING THE
OPIUM PIPE -- TOBACCO SMOKING -- THE WATER PIPE -- WEIGHTS AND
MEASURES -- THE STEELYARD AND ITS USES -- BOAT-LIFE IN CHINA --
CORMORANT FISHING -- FISH SPEARING -- CATCHING FISH WITH THE FEET --
THE DUCK BOATS -- AGRICULTURE -- MODE OF IRRIGATION -- CHINESE MUSIC
AND INSTRUMENTS -- A SKILFUL VIOLINIST -- CHINESE SINGING -- ART IN
CHINA -- PORCELAIN -- CARVING IN IVORY AND JADE -- MAGIC MIRRORS --
RESPECT TO AGE.
We will conclude this subject with a short account of the miscellaneous
manners and customs of the Chinese.
Among the chief of their characteristic customs is opium smoking, a
vice which is terribly prevalent, but which is not so universally
injurious as is often stated. Of course, those who have allowed
themselves to be enslaved by it become gradually debased, but the
proportion of those who do so is very small, though, by the terrible
sight which they present, they are brought prominently into notice. It
seems, moreover, that the quantity consumed at a time is not of so much
importance as the regularity of the habit.
Let a man once fall into the way of smoking opium, though it be but
one pipe, at a certain hour of the day, that pipe will be an absolute
necessity, and he takes it, not so much to procure pleasure, as to
allay the horribly painful craving from which he suffers. In fact, a
man destroys his health by opium smoking in China, much as a drunkard
does in England, not so much by taking immoderate doses occasionally,
but by making a habit of taking small doses repeatedly. From such a
habit as this very few have the courage to break themselves, the powers
of their mind being shattered as well as those of the body.
A confirmed opium smoker really cannot exist beyond a certain time
without the deadly drug, and those who are forced to exert themselves
are generally provided with some opium pills, which they take in order
to give them strength until they can obtain the desired pipe. An
anecdote illustrative of this practice is narrated by Mr. Cobbold in
his “Pictures of the Chinese”:--
“A small salesman, or pedler, was seen toiling along with great
difficulty through the gates of Ningpo, as if straining every nerve
to reach some desired point. He was seen to stagger and fall, and his
bundle flew from him out of his reach. While many pass by, some good
Samaritan comes to him, lifts up his head, and asks what is the matter,
and what he can do for him. He has just strength to whisper, ‘My good
friend, please to untie that bundle; you will find a small box in the
centre; give me two or three of the pills which are in it, and I shall
be all right.’ It was soon done; the opium pills had their desired
effect, and he was soon able to rise and pursue his journey to his inn.”
This most graphically describes the extreme state of exhaustion which
comes on if the usual period of taking the pipe has passed by. The
pedler thought, no doubt, he had strength just to reach his inn, where
he would have thrown himself upon a bed and called for the opium
pipe; but he miscalculated by a few minutes his power of endurance,
and the pills (often resorted to in like cases of extremity), when
supplied him by his friend, perhaps saved him from an untimely end.
Very similar scenes have happened to foreigners travelling in sedan
chairs through the country, the bearers having been obliged to stop and
take a little of the opium, in order to prevent complete exhaustion.
A long hour or more, in the middle of the day, has frequently to be
allowed, nominally for the sake of dinner and rest, but really, in some
instances, for the opium pipe.
The pipe which is used for smoking opium is not in the least like
that which is employed for tobacco. The stem is about as large as an
ordinary office-ruler, and it has a hole near one end, into which the
shank of the bowl is fixed. The bowl itself is about as large as a
Ribstone pippin, and nearly of the same shape, the bud representing
the tiny aperture in which the opium is placed, and the stalk
representing the shank which fits into the stem. These pipes are made
of various materials, some being mere bamboo and wood, while others
have bowls of the finest porcelain, and the stem richly enamelled. My
own specimen has the stem twenty inches in length, and an inch and a
half in diameter, the bore not being large enough to admit an ordinary
crowquill. The bowl is of some light-colored wood, well varnished, and
covered with landscape scenes in black lines. Although it has not been
in use for many years, it still smells strongly of opium, showing that
it had been saturated with the fumes of the drug before it came into my
possession.
The mode of using it is as follows: The smoker has a couch prepared,
together with a little lamp, and his usual supply of the prepared
opium. He lays his head on the pillow, with a long, needle-like
implement places over the aperture of the bowl a little piece of the
opium, about as large as a mustard seed, holds it to the flame of the
lamp, and, with a long and steady inspiration, the whole of the opium
is drawn into the lungs in the state of vapor. The smoke is retained
for a few seconds, and then expelled. The generality of opium smokers
are content with one pipe, but the votary of the drug will sometimes
take as many as twelve in succession before he is completely under the
influence of the opium. As he finishes the last morsel of opium, the
pipe falls from his hand, and he passes into that dreamland for which
he has bartered everything that makes life precious.
The terrible scenes which have so often been related take place for
the most part at the opium shops, places which are nominally illegal,
but which carry on their trade by payment of periodical bribes to the
ruling official of the place. In Tien-tsin alone there were upwards
of three hundred of these shops, in which opium could be purchased or
sold wholesale, or could be refined for smoking, and consumed on the
premises.
There is only one redeeming point in opium smoking, namely, that it
does not produce the brutal scenes which too often take place in the
gin palaces of this country. Mr. Fleming remarks of this vice: “If
opium smoking is a great evil among the Chinese people, as it is no
doubt, yet they endeavor to hide it, they are ashamed of it, and it
offends neither the eyes nor the hearing by offensive publicity. It is
not made a parade of by night and by day, neither does it give rise to
mad revels and murderous riots. Its effects on the health may be more
prejudicial than our habits of alcohol drinking, but yet it is hard to
see any of those broken-down creatures that one reads about.”
Indeed, the Chinese themselves, who are apt to drink more than they
ought of a fiery liquid called samshu, say that the spirit is far more
injurious than the drug.
We will now see how the Chinese smoke tobacco. The pipe which is
ordinarily used has a very little bowl of brass, at the end of a
slight stem about as large as a drawing pencil. The bowl is scarcely
large enough to hold the half of a boy’s playing marble, and is almost
exactly like the Japanese pipe, which will be presently described.
A pipe that is very much in fashion, especially with the women, is a
kind of water-pipe made of brass, and enlarged at the bottom so as to
stand upright. The enlarged portion is filled with water, through which
the smoke passes, as in a hookah. The little brass tube which serves
the purpose of a bowl can be drawn out of the body of the pipe, so as
to be charged afresh; and in most cases each pipe is supplied with
several bowls, so that they can be used successively as wanted. Only
three whiffs are taken at a time; and indeed the quantity of tobacco
used is so small, that more would be almost out of the question. For
this pipe, tobacco is prepared in a peculiar manner, a minute quantity
of arsenic being mixed with it.
One peculiarity about the Chinese is their almost universal employment
of weight as a measure. With the exception of objects of art, nearly
everything is bought by weight, and the consequence is, that the most
absurd modes of increasing the weight are often employed. Fowls and
ducks, for example, are sold alive by weight, so that the dishonest
vendor has a habit of cramming with stones before he brings them to
market. Fish are also taken to market while still living, and are
improved in appearance by being blown up with bellows, and in weight
by being crammed with stones. Through the lips of each fish a ring is
passed, so that it may be at once taken from the water and hung upon
the hook of the balance. Nor is the fish dealer particular as to the
sufferings of the creatures which he sells, and he has not the least
hesitation in cutting off a pound or two in case his customer does not
wish to purchase an entire fish.
In these transactions the Chinese do not use scales, but employ a
“steelyard” balance, made of various materials and various sizes,
according to the object for which it was intended. That which is meant
for ordinary market use is made of wood, and is marked at regular
distances by small brass studs, so as to designate the exact places on
which the weight should be hung. Those which are intended for finer
work are of ivory.
It is kept in a case, which looks something like two wooden spoons laid
upon each other, so that their bowls enclose any object placed between
them. They are united by a rivet or pivot, which passes through the
ends of the handles, enabling them to be separated at will by drawing
them sideways. In order to prevent them from coming apart needlessly,
a ring of bamboo is plaited loosely round the stem, so that when it is
slipped toward the bowl, the two halves of the case are kept together,
and when it is slid to the end of the stem, they can be separated. In
one of the halves of the bowl a large hole is scooped, in which the pan
of the balance lies, and a smaller hole is cut for the reception of
the weight. The steelyard itself lies in a groove cut along the inside
of the stem. The reader will see that when the apparatus is closed, it
lies very compactly, and can be stuck into the girdle ready for use at
any moment.
The “yard” of this balance is of ivory, and is longer and more slender
than the chopsticks which have already been described. In my specimen
it is eleven inches in length, and the sixth of an inch in diameter
in the thickest part. Three distinct sets of marks are made upon it,
and there are three separate fulcra, so that when the weight exceeds
the amount which can be measured with one fulcrum, the second or third
fulcrum can be used with its own set of marks.
The arrangement of these marks is a fertile source of dispute among
the Chinese. There is no standard by which all the balances can be
regulated, but each dealer has his own balance, and his own arrangement
of the gradations upon it. The natural consequence is, that quarrels
take place with every purchase. A vast amount of time is wasted
upon disputes which might easily be avoided, were the government to
establish a standard balance, by which all others might be graduated.
Time, however, is not of the least importance to a Chinese, and as a
prolonged bargain has a positive fascination for him, it is probable
that such a regulation would not be popular, and would indeed be
evaded in every mode which Chinese ingenuity could invent. The larger
steelyards have a hook whereon to hang the article to be weighed, but
those which are intended for weighing small and valuable objects are
furnished with a shallow brass pan, attached to the end of the balance
by four silken threads.
The extraordinary economy which distinguishes the Chinese is
characteristically shown in the population which crowds the rivers near
the principal towns. A vivid picture of Chinese boat-life is given by
Mr. Tiffany, in his “American’s Sojourn in the Celestial Empire.” After
describing the various kinds of boats that he has seen, he proceeds as
follows:--
“We have passed through several miles of boats, and have not seen the
quarter of them. It is, indeed, impossible to give an idea of their
number. Some say that there are as many as seventy thousand of them at
the city of Canton alone. But let us be content with forty thousand.
Then fancy forty thousand wild swans, closely packed together, floating
on some wide pond, and mostly restless, and you would say that they
would cover many acres of their element. Now, by the enchantment of
imagination, convert the pond into the roaring Pekiang River, the swans
into boats of every shape and size, the notes of the birds into the
yells, the shrieks, the piercing voices of the river people, and you
may have the actual scene before you.
“And all these boats, miles upon miles, from border to border, are
densely packed with human beings in every stage of life, in almost
every occupation that exists upon the shore that they seldom trespass
upon; and there they are born and earn their scanty bread, and
there they die. The boats are moored side by side, in long-reaching
thousands, so that the canal which they form stretches to a point in
the distance. In the Shaneem quarter, above the foreign factories,
they form large squares and avenues. Forty thousand floating tenements
would, under any circumstances, be considered a singular sight, but
here the swarming occupants give them the appearance of a mighty
metropolis.”
It seems strange that so vast a population should live on the river,
within pistol shot of the land, and yet that the greater number of
them, from their birth to their death, have never known what it is to
put a foot on the shore. When one of the older boatmen does so for the
first time, he can hardly walk, the firm land being as difficult for
him to tread as the deck of a tossing vessel is to a landsman.
Though the smallest of all the vessels that traverse a Chinese river,
the sampans are perhaps the most conspicuous. They are rather small
boats, drawing but little water, and for the most part propelled by two
women, one sitting in the bow with her oar, and the other stationed in
the stern, working the huge implement, half oar, half rudder, by which
the boat is at once propelled and guided. Many of the boat-steerers
are quite young girls, but they manage their craft with wonderful
skill and power, hardly ever touching another boat, no matter how many
may be darting about the river, and, with one mighty sweep of the
huge scull, sending the boat clear of the obstacle from which escape
seemed impossible but a second before. To the eye of a foreigner,
the boatwomen are more pleasing in appearance than their sisters of
the land, inasmuch as their feet are allowed to assume their proper
shape, and exposure to the air and exercise take away the sickly,
pasty complexion which often distinguishes the better-class women on
shore, and is heightened by the white powder with which they persist in
disfiguring themselves.
Some of the mandarin boats present the greatest possible contrast to
the little sampans. They are, in fact, floating palaces, decorated in
the most picturesque and sumptuous manner, and furnished with every
luxury that a wealthy Chinaman can command. They often have thirty
or forty oars of a side, are gaily bedecked with flags and brilliant
lanterns, and mostly carry several cannon, together with abundance of
fire-arms, in order to deter the pirates, who would be likely to swoop
down upon an unarmed vessel, kill the passengers, and seize the boat
for their own purposes.
In connection with the river life of the Chinese may be mentioned the
various modes of fishing. The most celebrated method is that in which
the fish are caught by cormorants. The fisherman has several of these
birds, which are trained to the sport, and indeed are bred from the egg
for the purpose, and sold at high prices when fully trained. The man
goes out in a boat or on a raft, accompanied by his birds, and when he
comes to a favorable spot, sends them into the water. They immediately
dive, and dart upon the fish, which they are taught to bring to the
boat.
Should the fish be too large, the man generally takes both fish and
bird into his boat by means of a net at the end of a handle; and often
when a bird has captured a very large fish, and is likely to lose it,
one or two of its companions will come to its assistance, and by their
united efforts hold the fish until their master can come up. A ring
is put loosely round the throats of the birds, so that they cannot
swallow the fish even if they desire to do so; but a well-trained
cormorant will no more eat a fish than a well-trained pointer will eat
a partridge. Each time that the cormorant brings a fish to the boat, it
is rewarded with a mouthful of food, generally a mouthful of eel, its
master raising the ring to allow it to swallow.
Fishing with cormorants is almost invariably carried on at high tide,
and near bridges, as fish always love to congregate under shelter. At
such times the bridges are always crowded with spectators watching the
feats of the cormorants.
The raft on which the fisherman stands is made of five or six bamboos,
about twenty feet in length. Now and then a cormorant which has not
completed its course of training is so delighted when it catches a
fish, that it swims away from its master as fast as it can. The
fisherman, however, can propel his light raft faster than the cormorant
can swim, and soon brings the truant to reason. This sport has recently
been introduced into England, and bids fair to be successful.
Though caring little for sport, and pursuing game merely for the
“pot,” the Chinese employ one or two methods of fishing which have the
sporting element in them,--_i. e._ which give the quarry a fair chance
of escape. Such, for example, is fish spearing, which is practised
after rather a curious manner. The fisherman generally takes his stand
upon a low bridge, and is furnished with a trident spear and a decoy
fish. The decoy fish is prepared by lacing a strip of wood to either
side of its dorsal fin, and to these sticks a slight line is fastened.
All being prepared, the fisherman takes his place on the bridge, drops
the decoy into the water, and ties the end of the line to a stick like
a fishing-rod, while he holds the three-pronged spear in his right
hand. As large a fish as the sportsman can procure is used for the
decoy; and as it swims about, its fellows come up to it, apparently
attracted by its peculiar movements. As they come within reach, they
are struck with the trident, and deposited in the fisherman’s basket.
A very inferior kind of fishing is carried on in places where the bed
of the river is muddy. The fisherman wades into the river up to his
knees or deeper, and every now and then strikes the surface of the
water violently. As he does so, the fish which love such localities
dive under the mud, where they are felt and held down by the bare feet
of the man. As soon as he feels the wriggling of a fish under his foot,
he stoops down, often having to plunge entirely under water, draws the
fish from under his foot, and drops it into his basket. It is evident
that only small fish can be caught by this method. I have tried it
myself, and found that after a little trouble it was easy to catch any
quantity of small flounders and similar fish,--too small, indeed, to
be of any use, except to the thrifty Chinese, two of whom will buy a
duck’s head and divide it for their dinner.
Among other river industries may be mentioned the system of duck
feeding that is there carried on. Vast quantities of ducks’ eggs are
hatched by artificial heat, and are purchased, when only a day or two
old, by the persons who make their living by feeding and selling the
birds. One favorite mode of duck feeding is to keep the birds in a boat
fitted up for the purpose, and to take the boat along the banks of the
river. At low water the keeper lets out the ducks, which find abundance
of food in the multitudinous creatures that swarm in the mud, and when
he thinks fit, he recalls them by a signal. As soon as they hear the
signal, they hurry to the boat with an alacrity that seems rather
ludicrous, unless the spectator knows that the last duck always gets a
sharp blow from a switch.
The characteristic thrift of the Chinese is well shown in their various
agricultural operations, which are marvellously successful, not only
on account of the real skill and knowledge possessed by the Chinese,
but by reason of the systematic and ceaseless labor bestowed upon the
various crops. Not a weed is allowed to absorb the nutriment which
ought to go to the rice, and between the rows of plants the laborer
creeps on his hands and knees, searching for every weed, and working
with his fingers the earth round every root. Taken alone, this is hard
and disagreeable work, but, as the rice is planted in mud, as sharp
stones are often hidden under the mud, and as leeches abound in it, the
hardships of a rice-weeder’s life may be conceived.
The water which is so necessary for the crop is mostly supplied by
mechanical means. If the agriculturist is fortunate enough to have land
near the river or canal, his task is comparatively easy. He has only to
erect a certain number of water-engines. These are almost all on the
same principle,--_i. e._ an endless chain passing over two wheels, and
drawing the water through an inclined trough. The wheels are generally
worked by men, who turn them with their feet, supporting themselves on
a horizontal bamboo. A larger and more complicated apparatus is worked
by a buffalo.
At the smaller wheels all labor, as Mr. Milne observes: “In working
them the energies of every household appeared taxed to the utmost
vigor, as if each individual felt convinced of the necessity of his
personal aid in securing a good and plentiful crop. I saw both young
and old leaning on the same frame, treading the same wheel, and humming
together their rustic song as they trod. Boys six years of age kept the
step very well with men of fifty, and if too small to mount the wheel,
they were placed on the ground to work the paddles with their little
hands; and women, too, whose tiny and compressed feet disable them from
treading the mill, stood at the feet of the men, keeping time with
their hands.... None were indolent. There was no cessation, nor was
there exemption from labor; and, while they fought among the thorns and
thistles with which the ground had been cursed, and with the sweat of
the brow under a blazing sun sowed, weeded, and watered the earth, no
murmurs were heard, save the undulating sound of the husbandman’s song
as it waved over the field.” Those women who are fortunate enough to
possess feet of the natural size work as hard in the field as the men
do, and are then almost as scantily attired, a wide and short pair of
trousers, and a wide hat to shelter them from the sun, being all the
clothing they care for.
Though the earth be poor, the Chinese agriculturist forces it to bear,
for every substance which can serve as manure is carefully saved for
that purpose. Not only do the Chinese dispose of all the refuse of
their houses and streets in the fields, but, as we have seen, even the
little scraps of hair that are shaved from the head are saved and used
as manure. Indeed, it is only by means of this exceeding economy that
the inhabitants of so densely populated a country can sustain life.
Our concluding notes on Chinese life must be few and short.
According to their own ideas, they are as much adepts in music as
in the other arts and sciences, which, as they believe, have placed
them at the very summit of humanity. They have a tolerable variety
of musical instruments, the most common of which is the San-hien,
a sort of three-stringed guitar, with a very long neck and a very
little cylindrical body. The strings are of silk, and are struck with
a thin slip of bamboo at the end of the finger. Then, as a type of
stringed instruments played with a bow, may be mentioned the Urh-heen,
or two-stringed fiddles, the sounds of which are generally very
disagreeable,--that is, when produced for Chinese ears; but when the
player desires to imitate the characteristics of European music, he can
do so very perfectly, as is shown by Mr. Fleming:--
“In one of the most thronged streets I was, on one afternoon, elbowing
my way along, exploring the ‘Heavenly Ford,’ when the sound of a violin
playing a well-known waltz fixed my attention in a bylane; and there,
instead of a hairy Briton flourishing a bow over a Cremona, was a blind
beggar eliciting those pleasant notes with as great precision and tone
from the rude and weighty mallet-shaped urh-heen, as if he had been all
his public life first violin at the opera.”
[Illustration: MOUTH ORGAN.]
The same traveller remarks of the vocal music of the Chinese, that “a
Chinaman rehearsing a song looks and gives utterance to such goat-like
bleats, that it is impossible to avoid the conclusion that he is
laboring under a violent attack of chronic whooping-cough, combined
with intermittent seizures of hiccough,--the ‘dying falls’ of the
inhuman falsetto at the end of each verse finishing in the most
confounding hysterical perturbations of the vocal chords.”
There are several Chinese wind instruments. For instance, there is a
clarionet, called Shu-teh, an instrument with a very loud and piercing
note, and a peculiar “mouth-organ,” in which are a number of pipes. One
of these instruments, drawn from a specimen in my collection, is shown
on page 1445. It contains sixteen pipes, of different lengths, arranged
in pairs. Some of the pipes, however, are “dummies,” and are only
inserted to give the instrument an appearance of regularity. The length
of the pipes has nothing to do with the pitch of the note, as they
speak by means of brass vibrators inserted into the lower end, exactly
like those of harmoniums. The pipes are bound together by means of a
horn band that passes around them. When it is used, the player blows
into the projecting mouthpiece, and with his fingers stops or opens the
apertures in the pipes. The tone of this instrument is not pleasing to
European ears.
Strange as Chinese music seems to us, and unpleasant as are the odd
and unexpected intervals of their melodies, the art is evidently
cultivated among the people, and there is scarcely a house without
its musical instrument of some kind. In the evening, according to Mr.
Fleming, “in passing through the narrow streets, one is sure to hear
from the dimly lighted houses the squealing, incoherent, and distorted
vibrations tumbling out on the night air with a spasmodic reality and a
foreignness of style that at once remind the listener of the outlandish
country he is in.” The preference of the Chinese for the strange,
wild, abrupt intervals of their own music is not, as the reader may
see, merely occasioned by ignorance of a more perfect scale, but is
the result of deliberate choice on their part. They have no objection
to European music. On the contrary, they are pleased to express their
approbation of it, but with the proviso that it is decidedly inferior
to their own.
From Music we turn to Art. In their own line of art the Chinese are
unsurpassed, not to say inimitable. Ignorant of perspective as they may
be, there is a quaint force and vigor about their lines that is worthy
of all praise, while their rich softness of color can scarcely be
equalled. From time immemorial they have been acquainted with the art
of color printing from wooden blocks, and some of their oldest examples
of color printing are so full of life and spirit, despite their
exaggeration of gesture, and their almost ludicrous perspective, that
the best English artists have admired them sincerely.
Of their porcelain, in which they simply stand alone, it is impossible
to treat fully in such a work as this, as the subject would demand
a volume to itself. Their carved work in ivory is familiarly known
throughout the greater part of the civilized world. In many of these
carvings the object of the artist seems to have been, not to develop
any beauties of form, but to show his power of achieving seeming
impossibilities. Among the best-known forms of Chinese carving may
be reckoned the sets of concentric balls, which are cut out of solid
ivory, or at least are said to be so made.
[Illustration: SPECIMENS OF CHINESE ART. (From Sir Hope Grant’s
Collection.)]
There is quite a controversy about the mode of cutting these balls,
and even those who have spent much time in China, and are thoroughly
acquainted with the arts and manufactures of the country, disagree on
this subject, some saying that the balls are really cut from solid
ivory, and others that each ball is made of two separate portions,
which are joined very artificially by cement, and can be separated by
steeping in boiling water. Of the two explanations I am rather inclined
to believe the former, as none of those who say that the balls can be
separated seem to have tried the experiment for themselves. The mode of
cutting these curious specimens of art is said to be by boring conical
holes from the circumference of the ball to its centre with a spherical
piece of ivory, and then detaching each ball in succession with curved
tools.
The jade carving of China is also celebrated. This material is
remarkable for the beautifully soft polish which can be given to it,
and, as it is a rare mineral and exceedingly hard, coming next in that
respect to the ruby, articles made of jade are valued very highly
by the Chinese. In the accompanying illustration are shown a number
of jade carvings belonging to Sir Hope Grant, who kindly allowed
me to have them engraved for this work. The bowl in the front is
carved in imitation of a water-lily, the handle being formed from the
flower-stem. The ring which hangs from the handle is cut from the same
piece of jade. Just behind it is a jar of the same material, which is a
wonderful specimen of carving, and admirably shows the patient industry
of the Chinese worker. The second small bowl in the front, and the jar
behind it, are also of jade.
The elegant jar which occupies the centre of the group is a splendid
specimen of enamel, and beside it is a large piece of _lapis lazuli_,
on which is engraved a poem written by the emperor himself.
The celebrated Summer Palace or Yuenming-yuen, which was sacked and
burned by the English and French forces, was filled with splendid
specimens of jade carving, some of which are shown in the preceding
illustration. There are three kinds of jade, the cream-colored, the
clear white, and the bright green. This last is the most esteemed, and
is so valuable that a single bead, not so large as a boy’s playing
marble, is worth a pound, or even more. Some necklaces made of these
beads were sold after the destruction of the Summer Palace, and though
they only contained about a hundred and fifty beads, a hundred and
twenty pounds were given for them, the Chinese commissioners thinking
that they were sold at a very cheap rate. The Chinese name for this
jade is “feh-tsui.”
One of the most remarkable instances of Chinese art is the magic
mirror. This article is a circular plate of metal rather more than a
quarter of an inch thick, having its face smooth and highly polished,
and its back dark and ornamented with various patterns, among which
four Chinese characters are conspicuous. These characters are in honor
of literature, and seem to be generally employed for the decoration of
these mirrors.
When used simply for the purpose of reflecting the face, the mirrors
present nothing worthy of notice, but when they are held to the sun,
and the beams thrown upon a white surface, the whole of the characters
on the back are shown in the reflection. The mirror will even show its
powers when used with a lamp, but the sun is required to bring out
the characters clearly. A small but excellent specimen of this mirror
was presented to me by Dr. Flaxman Spurrell, and always excites great
admiration wherever it is shown. Not the least trace of any figure is
to be found in the face of the mirror, and the higher the polish given
to the face, the clearer is the representation of the figures on the
back.
Several theories have been promulgated respecting the mode of making
these extraordinary mirrors, the most probable one being that the
characters and patterns on the back are made of a harder and more
condensed metal than that of the rest of the mirror, and that, when a
high polish is given to the face, the difference of the metal is not
perceptible, except by the mode in which it reflects light.
There is much to say respecting the customs of the Chinese. The small
space, however, which remains will not permit us to treat fully of such
wide subjects as religion, marriage, and disposal of the dead, and
that they should be cursorily treated is impossible. We will therefore
conclude with one of the most pleasing traits in the Chinese character,
namely, the respect paid to old age.
According to Mr. Milne, “The sacred regard which Chinese pay to the
claims of kindred secures to the patriarchs of respectable families
ample support in the advanced and helpless stage of their pilgrimage;
and charity often relieves poor septuagenarians whose relations may be
unable to supply them with comforts or necessaries at their mature age.
In China one’s feelings are not harrowed with the sad spectacle of an
aged parent discarded by his children, and left to perish, unattended
and unnursed, under a scorching sun, or on the banks of a rolling
river. But you will see the tottering senior, man or woman, who has not
the means to hire a sedan, led through the alleys and streets by a son
or a grandchild, commanding the spontaneous respect of each passer-by,
the homage of every junior.
“The deference of the _polloi_ to the extreme sections of old age
is manifest likewise from the tablets and monuments you may any day
stumble upon, that have been erected by public subscription to the
memory of octogenarians, nonagenarians, and centenarians. Nor is the
government backward in encouraging this, but the reverse. Hence I have
often seen very aged men and women in the streets, arrayed in yellow,
_i. e._ imperial, robes, the gift of the emperor, in mark of honor, and
out of respect to their gray hairs.” The reader will remember that an
honorary degree is given to competitors who have reached an advanced
age.
On one occasion, the emperor called together about four thousand old
men at his palace, entertained them with a banquet, at which they were
served by his own children and grandchildren, presented each of them
with money and a yellow robe, and conferred upon the oldest of the
assembly, a man aged one hundred and eleven years, the rank and dress
of a mandarin.
Family festivals are held, something like the silver and golden wedding
of the Germans, to celebrate each decade of life; and so important
do the Chinese consider these festivals that they are often held by
children even after the death of their parents, the only difference
being that they have somewhat of a funeral cast, white, the color
of mourning, being substituted for red, the color of joy. On those
occasions the children offer gifts, and no present is thought to be
more grateful to the recipient than a very handsome coffin. All Chinese
who can afford it purchase during their lifetime a coffin as handsome
as their means will permit, and so, should they not have been able to
purchase this their last resting-place, their children think themselves
honored by taking the purchase into their own hands. These coffins are
nearly square, are made of immense thickness, and are so carefully
cemented that the body may be kept in them without needing burial.
Filial respect is inculcated into the Chinese with their earliest
breath, and their youthful minds are filled with legends of pious
children. For example: Wu Mang was the son of parents who were too poor
to possess mosquito curtains. So at night Wu Mang used to allow the
mosquitoes to feed upon him, hoping that they would prefer a young boy
to aged people. Wang Liang lost his mother, and had a step-mother who
disliked him. Still he behaved to her as though she had been his own
mother, and once, when she wished for some fresh fish and the river was
frozen, Wang Liang went to the river, took off his clothes, and lay on
the ice, hoping to melt it. Suddenly, in reward for his filial conduct,
the ice opened, and out leaped two fine carp, which he took to his
step-mother. Again, Lae, when he was seventy years of age, dressed and
behaved like a child, in order that his parents should not be troubled,
when looking at him, with the idea of their own age.
In every town or village, the oldest persons are treated with the
greatest consideration, not on account of their rank or wealth, but
of their age. Every one gives way to them, they have the best places
in the theatres, are brought forward at every public spectacle, and
are indulged in every possible way. Such has been the custom from
time immemorial in this great nation, which was civilized when the
inhabitants of England were naked savages. The oldest civilized nation
in the world, they have honored their fathers and their mothers, and
their days have been long in the land.
CHAPTER CLVI.
JAPAN.
DRESS--ART--AMUSEMENTS.
POSITION AND NAME OF JAPAN -- APPEARANCE OF THE JAPANESE -- DRESS
OF THE MEN -- USE OF SLEEVES -- HAIR-DRESSING -- COURT DRESS --
THE TATTOO AND ITS USES -- A STREET SCENE IN JAPAN -- DRESS OF THE
WOMEN -- ARRANGEMENT OF THE HAIR -- THE ANCIENT HAIR-PINS -- USE OF
PAINT -- BLACKENING TEETH AND PULLING OUT EYEBROWS -- MR. OLIPHANT’S
OPINION UPON THE CUSTOM -- DISREGARD OF CLOTHING -- THE PUBLIC BATHS
-- HOMERIC SIMPLICITY -- JAPANESE DRAWINGS -- TRAVELLING IN JAPAN --
A LADY ON HORSEBACK -- JAPANESE RIDERS -- THE GAME OF MALL -- HORSE
ACCOUTREMENTS -- A SINGULAR HORSESHOE -- THE NORIMON, OR PALANQUIN --
FASHION OF THE POLE -- THE CANGO, OR CHAIR -- A NOBLE IN HIS NORIMON
-- ATHLETIC POWERS OF THE JAPANESE -- THE LADDER BALANCING, TOP
SPINNING, AND BUTTERFLY TRICK.
The Empire of JAPAN extends over a vast cluster of Islands, of
different sizes, situated on the north eastern coast of Asia. There
are nearly four thousand of these islands, but the kingdom practically
consists of three chief Islands, Niphon, Kiou-siou, or Kew-sew, and
Sikok, or Sitkokf. The first of these islands gives its name to the
entire empire, our word Japan not having even a Japanese origin, but
being a corruption of the Chinese rendering of the word Niphon, _i. e._
Land of the Sunrise. As might be inferred, it is within the island of
Niphon that the capital, Jeddo or Yedo, is placed.
The complexion of the Japanese is yellowish, with a little brown,
and in many cases is no darker than that of a Portuguese or southern
Italian. The eyes are small, and not so much sunk in the head as those
of the Chinese; the hair is black, straight, and coarse, and the nose,
though thick, is well formed. Their stature is about equal to that of
ordinary Europeans, and their limbs, though not large, are often very
powerful, a slightly-made Japanese being able to lift easily a weight
which a stalwart Englishman would find a heavy burden.
The dress of the Japanese is very peculiar, and well suited to their
features and complexion. Although it has about it something of a
Chinese aspect, it is as distinct from the Chinese as is the character
of the two people. As in China, the dress consists of much the same
articles with both sexes, that of the women differing from male apparel
chiefly in the comparative length of the robes and the mode of dressing
the hair. A male Japanese may or may not wear trousers, his liberty
in this point being absolute, sometimes amounting to a practical
dispensation with all dress whatever.
The chief articles of male dress are robes of differing lengths, one
being worn upon the other, until a man will sometimes carry four or
five robes at once. They are girt round the waist with a broad sash,
so that if the wearer wishes to remove his dress, he has only to
loosen the sash, and draw his arms out of the sleeves, when all the
garments fall to the ground together. The sleeves are very large, and,
being partly closed at the ends, are used as pockets, in which are
carried various little articles of portable property. In the sleeves,
for example, are carried the squares of white paper which serve as
pocket handkerchiefs, and which are always thrown away when used; and
in the same convenient receptacle the Japanese guest will carry off
the remains of the feast to which he has been invited, such being the
custom of this strange country.
The material of these robes differs according to the wealth and quality
of the wearer, some being of simple cotton, while those of the higher
classes are made of the finest silks, and ornamented with the device
or arms of the family, embroidered on the breast and back of the outer
robe.
The hair of the men is dressed in a very singular manner. The front
and temples of the head are shaved, as in China, and the remaining
hair is made into a tail, as is the case with the Chinese. The hair,
however, is not allowed to grow to its utmost length, and to hang down
the back, but is made into a short queue, about three inches in length,
and as thick as the finger, and is turned up over the top of the head.
Generally the head is bare, but it is sometimes covered with a hat.
The hats differ much in shape. That which is in general use is nearly
flat, and is fastened to the head by six strings, two of which pass
under the chin, two are crossed at the back of the head, and two more
are passed under the nose. A hat thus fastened gives to the head a
very singular aspect, making the face look as if it had suffered from
a severe accident, and was covered with bandages. Some hats look like
beehives, and entirely conceal the features, and are worn by outlaws,
or “lonins,” and disgraced nobles. Sometimes the men pass a piece of
stuff over their heads in such a way as to hide the forehead and chin,
and only to leave the eyes, nose, and mouth exposed; and in winter they
throw over the hat a piece of cloth, which is tied over the nose so as
to shield that member from the cold blasts.
Men of consideration also wear a scarf over the shoulders, its length
being regulated by the rank of the wearer, and thus serving to indicate
the amount of courtesy which is due from one man to another. When two
Japanese gentlemen meet, they bow until the ends of the scarf touch the
ground. It is evident, therefore, that the man who, in virtue of his
rank, wears the longest scarf, has the less distance to bow.
In addition to the ordinary costume, the dress of ceremony has two
extraordinary additions. The first is the “kami-samo,” respecting which
the Japanese are exceedingly punctilious. It consists of a piece of
stuff which is folded back over the shoulders in a fan-like form, and
gives a most extraordinary and awkward look to the wearer. Courtiers
wear another article of dress which is exactly opposed to our customs.
In European courts the nether garments are abbreviated, and only come
to the knee; in Japan the custom is reversed. When the nobles appear
before the emperor, they wear a pair of trousers with legs fully twice
as long as those of the wearer, so that in walking they trail a yard
or so on the ground. Walking in such garments is an art which can only
be attained by long practice, and which, even when learned, is nothing
more than an ungainly shuffle, threatening every moment to throw the
courtier on his face. The attitudes which are assumed by fashionable
courtiers are so absurd that the Japanese picture books abound in
caricatures of noblemen at court. The object of this curious custom is
probably to give the wearer of the court dress an aspect as if he were
kneeling instead of standing.
Men of the better classes always appear in public carefully dressed,
but those of the lower orders consider themselves sufficiently clothed
if they have a mere strip of cloth like the “languti” of India.
Coolies, for example, laborers of various kinds, post-runners, etc.,
wear nothing but the cloth strip while at work.
Mr. Oliphant, in his “Narrative,” mentions this fact in connection
with the custom of tattooing, which is carried out in Japan to as
much perfection as in Polynesia. “Some, however, denied themselves
the benefit of dress, apparently for the purpose of exhibiting the
brilliant patterns in which their skins were tattooed. One man had
a monster crab on the small of his back, and a pretty cottage on
his chest. It is rather fashionable to have scarlet fish playing
sportively between your shoulders. The scarlet tattooing presents a
very disgusting appearance. The skin looks as if it had been carefully
peeled off into the required pattern.
“On a really well-tattooed man there is not an inch of the body which
does not form part of a pictorial representation. If the general effect
is not agreeable, it is perfectly decent, for the skin ceases to look
bare, or like skin at all; it rather resembles a harlequin’s costume.
It must be dreadful to feel that one can never undress again. Yet what
anguish does not the victim undergo, in order to put himself into a
permanent suit of red dye and gunpowder!” The Japanese are very fond
of their children, and in summer time a man may often be seen in the
streets, wearing nothing but the cloth strip, and carrying in his arms
his infant child, who has no clothing whatever.
Sometimes a man will appear in a costume which even seems more absurd
than the almost entire nudity which has just been mentioned, and will
walk about in a hat, a short jacket, and nothing else but the cloth.
In an illustration on the next page, the artist has shown a number of
the ordinary costumes as they appear when the wearers are gathered
round a ballad-singer. The most conspicuous figure is that of a
Samourai or Yaconin, an armed retainer of a nobleman, swaggering along
with the two swords emblematic of his office, and his features nearly
hidden under his hat. The men wearing the extraordinary piebald dresses
are a sort of street constable, who accompany a man of rank on his
journey, and who jingle an iron rod laden with rings, in order to warn
people to get out of the way of the great man. The other figures of men
are arranged so as to show the mode of dressing the hair, and one or
two varieties of costume.
[Illustration: (1.) DECAPITATION OF CHINESE CRIMINAL. (See page 1440.)]
[Illustration: (2.) THE STREET BALLAD-SINGER. (See page 1450.)]
The general appearance of the women’s dress is well shown by a figure
opposite to that of the Samourai. The dress is almost exactly like that
of the men, except that the materials are generally finer, and the sash
which confines the garments to the waist is very broad, and gathered
up into a large and peculiar knot, almost exactly like the “panier”
of European fashion. Both sexes wear stockings made like mittens, and
having a separate place for the reception of the great toe. Without
this provision they would not be able to wear the peculiar sandals and
clogs of the country, which are held on the foot by a Y-shaped strap,
the fork of which passes between the great and the second toe. The
clogs that are worn by the women very much resemble those of the Malays
in general shape, and, awkward as they look, are easily manageable
after a little practice. Some clogs in my collection elevate the foot
of the wearer six inches above the ground, but I have found that
walking, or rather shuffling, in them is not at all difficult.
The chief distinction between masculine and feminine attire lies in
the hair. Whereas the men shave nearly the whole of the head, the
women allow their hair to grow, and even add to it when they do not
possess a sufficient amount to produce the extraordinary forms into
which they twist their locks. Various fashions of hair-dressing
prevail in different parts of the country, but in all cases the women
take extraordinary pains with their heads, and twist their hair
into elaborate and fantastic patterns, which scarcely any European
hairdresser could equal.
Hair-pins are very fashionable, not so much for the purpose of
confining the locks in their places, as of mere adornment. The pins
are of enormous size, seven or eight inches in length, and half an
inch wide, and are made of various substances, such as tortoise shell,
carved wood, and ivory. Some of the most characteristic hair-pins are
made of glass. They are hollow, and nearly filled with some colored
liquid, so that at every movement of the wearer an air bubble runs from
one end of the pin to the other. Sometimes a woman will wear a dozen or
more of these pins in her hair, so that at a little distance her head
looks as if a bundle of firewood had been stuck loosely into it.
Having pleasing features by nature, it may be expected that the women
do their best to disfigure them by art. The soft pale brown of their
complexions is made ghastly and hideous by white paint, with which the
face, neck, and bust are thickly covered. The natural pink of the lips
is rendered disgusting by a layer of red paint, the white teeth are
blackened, and the eyebrows are pulled out. This style of adornment
belongs only to the married women, so that a really pretty girl will in
a few hours transform herself into a repulsive hag.
Mr. Oliphant, in the work which has already been mentioned, gives
rather a humorous reason for this strange custom. “The first impression
of the fair sex which the traveller receives in a Japanese crowd is in
the highest degree unfavorable; the ghastly appearance of the faces and
bosoms, thickly coated with powder, the absence of eyebrows, and the
blackened teeth, produce a most painful and disagreeable effect. Were
it not for this abominable custom, Japanese women would probably rank
high among Eastern beauties, certainly far before Chinese.
“All Japanese writers whom I have read upon the subject affirm that to
have no eyebrows and black teeth is considered a beauty in Japan, and
that the object of the process is to add to the charms of the fair one.
The result of my inquiry and observation, however, rather led me to
form an opposite conclusion.
“In the first place, young ladies do not, as a rule, neglect any
opportunity of improving their looks; but no Japanese young ladies,
even after they are ‘out,’ think of taking this method of increasing
their powers of fascination; they color their lips and cheeks, and deck
their hair, but it is not until they have made a conquest of some lucky
swain, that, to prove their devotion to him, they begin to blacken
their teeth and pull out their eyebrows.
“He, privileged being, is called upon to exhibit no such test of his
affection: on the contrary, his lawful wife having so far disfigured
herself as to render it impossible that she should be attractive to
any one else, seems to lose her charms for her husband as well. So
he places her at the head of his establishment; and adds to it an
indefinite number of handmaidens, who neither pull out their eyebrows
nor blacken their teeth. Hence it seems not difficult to account for
the phenomenon which is universally admitted, that while Japanese wives
are celebrated for their virtue, their husbands are no less notorious
for their licentiousness.”
While upon the subject of dress, we must not pass unnoticed the
extraordinary ideas which the Japanese have on the subject. Possessed
as they are of much taste in dress, and having certain complete
costumes for various ranks, it seems very remarkable that they are
utterly indifferent to clothing considered in the light of covering.
They attach no sense of indelicacy to exposure of the person, and men,
women, and children may be seen bathing exposed to the sight of every
passer-by.
Even their public baths, though some of them have two doors, one for
men and one for women, are common to both sexes, and in those baths
which are specially set apart for women the attendant is often a man.
Sometimes there is a partition, about breast high, to separate the
sexes, but the usual baths have no such refinement. The baths are
merely shallow pans or depressions in the floor, in which the bathers
sit while they pour over themselves abundant supplies of hot and cold
water. Baths of this nature are attached to all the “tea-houses,” so
that travellers can refresh themselves with a bath, in true Homeric
style, before they take their meals. And, in Homeric style also, the
attendants are women. The baths are known by a dark blue strip of
cloth which hangs like a banner over the doorway. Europeans, when they
first visit the country, are rather surprised when they pass along the
streets to see a whole family “tubbing” in front of their houses, or,
when they pass a public bath, to see the inmates run out to look at the
strangers; but they very soon become used to such spectacles, and think
no more of them than do the Japanese themselves.
Sir Rutherford Alcock, in dealing with this subject, and illustrating
it by a Japanese drawing representing a bath tenanted by a man, a boy,
and five women, makes the following remarks: “Men and women steaming
in the bathing-houses raise themselves to the open bars of the lattice
fronts to look out, the interior behind them presenting a view very
faithfully represented in the following sketch by a native artist.
“In reference to which, I cannot help feeling there is some danger of
doing injustice to the womanhood of Japan if we judge them by _our_
rules of decency and modesty. Where there is no _sense_ of immodesty,
no consciousness of wrong-doing, there is, or may be, a like absence
of any sinful or depraving feeling. It is a custom of the country.
Fathers, brothers, and husbands all sanction it; and from childhood the
feeling must grow up as effectually shielding them from self-reproach
or shame, as their sisters in Europe in adopting low dresses in the
ball-room, or any other generally adopted fashion of garments or
amusements. There is much in the usual appearance and expression
of Japanese women to lead to this conclusion. Any one of the real
performers in the above scene,--a bathing saturnalia as it may appear
to us,--when all is over, and the toilet completed, will leave the
bath-door a very picture of womanly reserve and modesty.”
Certainly, no women can be more decently clad than those of Japan, as
we may see by any of the multitudinous native drawings; and that they
should attach no sense of decency to the dress, or indecency to its
absence, is one of the many strange characteristics of this remarkable
and enigmatic country.
The travelling dress of the women is little more than their ordinary
costume, _plus_ a large flat hat, which serves as a parasol. Japanese
picture books abound with illustrations of women travelling, and,
multitudinous as they are, each has always some characteristic point,
and no two are exactly alike. Sometimes we see the women sauntering
quietly along the river bank, sometimes they are being carried across
the river on the shoulders of men, or, if they be of importance,
in “norimons” or chairs borne by six or eight coolies. Some of the
drawings depict women as sitting in boats, as being caught in a heavy
snow or rain storm (see illustration), as walking by moonlight, and as
they appear when riding.
[Illustration]
The attitude and general appearance of a female equestrian in Japan
differ considerably from those of an European. Side-saddles are
unknown, the fair rider perching herself upon a saddle which lifts
her high above the back of the animal, concealing her body downward,
holding on tightly by the front part of the saddle, and, in fact,
giving herself a look very much resembling that of a gayly attired
monkey on horseback, as shown on the next page. This mode of riding is
even followed by the opposite sex, the retainers of the high nobles
sitting in their lofty saddles in very much the same attitude as that
employed by the women, and being in consequence absolutely useless,
except in looks, as cavalry.
Yet, when they choose, the Japanese can ride tolerably, as is shown by
the fact of a game which is played among them, in which the competitors
are all mounted. In this game the players have to contend against
very great disadvantages. In the first place, the horses which they
bestride are wretched animals, mere rough ponies, and the accoutrements
are so clumsy, that it is a wonder how the horse can be guided at
all. According to our ideas, a horse is guided by the pressure of the
leg and the touch of the rein, but the Japanese saddles render such
guidance impossible.
The former mode is prevented by the shape of the saddle, which has
large flaps of stiff leather hanging so low that the heel or knee of
the rider has no effect upon the animal; and the latter mode is nearly
as impossible as the former, by reason of the bit and the fashion of
riding. The bit is a mere light snaffle placed loosely in the mouth,
and the reins are used, not so much for the purpose of guiding the
horse, as of keeping the rider in his seat. The horsemen grasp a rein
tightly in each hand, and so hang to the bit. The natural consequence
is, that the mouths of the horses are nearly as tough as the leather
saddle-flaps, and the animals always go with their noses in the air, so
as to counteract the perpetual haul on the bridle.
The game which is played under these untoward conditions is a sort of
mall. A large space is marked out, and at each end is a curtain. At
some few feet from the ground a circular hole is cut in the curtain.
Each player is furnished with a long-handled, small-headed racket,
almost exactly resembling that which is employed by the North American
Indians in their ball play, described on page 1324. The object of the
game is to pick up the ball from the ground with the racket, and to
throw it through the hole. In order that there may be no doubt whether
the ball has really passed through the hole, a net is hung loosely
on the opposite side of the hole, and receives the ball. The players
arrange themselves in two parties, distinguished by colors, and the
chief point of the game is to pursue the opponent as he is galloping
triumphantly toward the goal, and knock the ball out of the racket just
as he is going to throw it through the hole.
[Illustration]
The stirrups used by the Japanese are very curious in shape, and not
at all like the ordinary models. Their general outline resembles that
of the letter S, the foot being thrust into the opening as far as it
will go. The comparatively small stirrups used by Europeans are as
troublesome to the Japanese as would be the tiny triangular stirrups of
Patagonia to an English rider.
The strangest part of horse equipment in Japan is, however, the shoe.
Our idea of a horseshoe is a metallic plate to protect the horse
against hard ground. The Japanese shoe is made of plaited straw, and
is, in fact, nothing more than a straw sandal tied to the foot, giving
it a very clumsy appearance. As may be imagined, their shoes never
last very long, and on a stony road are soon cut to pieces. The rider,
therefore, takes a supply of shoes with him, and renews them as fast as
they are worn out. Indeed, a journey is often roughly calculated as a
distance of so many shoes.
Under such circumstances, it is not surprising that the horse is seldom
used in travelling. None but a poor noble will condescend to ride from
one place to another, as it might be supposed that he could not afford
the retinue which is required to carry him. Sometimes a nobleman will
condescend to ride in public, but then his horse must be held by two
grooms, who tug continually at the poor animal’s mouth, and shout
continually, “Chai! chai!” _i. e._ gently, for haste is always thought
undignified by the Japanese, and a person of consideration would suffer
a great infraction of dignity if he allowed himself to hurry over the
road.
For those who can afford so expensive a luxury, the usual mode of
conveyance is a sort of palanquin called a Norimon. It is a square
cage, hung from a pole, and carried by four men, two in front and two
behind. For Japanese travellers this is a very comfortable conveyance,
but for Europeans, who are not accustomed to the crouching attitude so
characteristic of the Japanese, even a short journey in a norimon is a
source of torture, the unfortunate passenger finding great difficulty
in getting into the machine, and, when the journey is over, almost as
much difficulty in getting out again, his limbs being stiff and cramped
by the position into which they have been forced.
The pole of the norimon is stout, and very long; and it is a matter of
rivalry between young and fashionable men to have their norimon poles
as long and as profusely decorated as possible. When the coolies carry
the norimon, they hoist it on their shoulders at a signal from their
master, and step along at some three miles an hour. In many parts the
coolies much resemble the palanquin bearers of India, but are in this
respect superior, that they travel in silence, and do not weary the
soul of their master by the perpetual grunts and moans with which the
Indian bearers are accustomed to lighten their journey.
Uncomfortable as is the norimon, there is a popular conveyance which
is even more painful to European limbs. This is called the Cango, and
it bears about the same relationship to the norimon as a wheelbarrow
does to a carriage. Indeed, if the reader can imagine the wheel, the
legs, and handle of a wheelbarrow to be removed, and the body of the
machine to be hung from a pole, he can form some idea of a cango. In
the norimon the inmate has to crouch, in the cango he has almost to tie
himself in a knot. Yet the Japanese limbs are so supple, that cango
employers travel for many successive hours without being in the least
oppressed by the attitude which they are compelled to assume. Cangos
are largely used in Japan, and are indeed what cabs are to Londoners,
the norimons supplying the place of carriages.
When a great noble or Daimio travels, he always uses the norimon,
partly because it is the most luxurious conveyance which he knows, and
partly because it gives him an excuse for displaying the strength of
his retinue, which is about the only mode of ostentation known to the
Japanese. The norimon is preceded by some of the men called Samourais,
or Yaconins, _i. e._ men who are permitted to attach themselves
to his service, and thereby to gain the privilege of wearing two
swords. As their master passes along, they continually utter the word
“Shitanirio!” _i. e._ kneel down, whereupon every one that hears it
must at once prostrate himself on the ground, or remain erect at his
peril. The most serious quarrels that have arisen between strangers
and the natives in Japan have originated in this custom, the strangers
either not knowing the custom, or refusing to comply with it lest they
should compromise the dignity of their nation. Refusing to obey such an
order is sure to cause a quarrel, and is likely to end in loss of life,
as the Yaconins who give the order to kneel are always ready to enforce
obedience with their swords.
Around the norimon is a crowd of servants, each wearing his master’s
badge on his back, and each armed according to his rank. Some led
horses generally accompany the procession, so that the great man may
ride when he is tired of the norimon, and a number of coolies bear
umbrellas covered with waterproof cases, and large boxes on poles.
These boxes are almost invariably empty, but are conventionally
supposed to contain the stores of baggage without which so great a
man could not be expected to stir. Superior officers in norimons,
and inferior officers on horseback, accompany the procession, for
which a passage is kept by a number of men fantastically dressed in
harlequin-like suits of various colors. Each of them carries a long
iron rod, to which are attached a number of rings made of the same
metal. As they walk they strike the end of the rod against the ground
at each step, so that a clashing sort of jingle is produced, and
strikes awe into the people.
That the Japanese should be such poor horsemen is very singular,
considering the marvellous perfection to which they have brought other
athletic exercises. As “acrobats” the performers are far superior to
those of any other nation, performing the most audacious and apparently
impossible feats with an absolute precision which quite removes any
idea of danger.
Until the Japanese gymnasts came to this country, we were inclined to
treat the accounts of travellers as exaggerated, but they proved to be
capable of performing any feats which our professional athletes could
achieve, and many others which they never even dreamt of attempting.
For example, nothing seems much more difficult than for a man to lie
on his back and balance on the soles of his feet a ladder thirty feet
high. But when we add that to the top of the ladder a second ladder was
attached at right angles, like the top of the letter F, and that a boy
went up and down the ladder, and even crawled to the end of the cross
piece and there hung by his instep, while the ladder was balanced on
the soles of the reclining man’s feet, we appear to be romancing rather
than relating a fact. Yet this astonishing performance was repeated
day after day, and nothing was more wonderful than the elaborate
perfection and finish of the performance. The heavy ladder was placed
on the upturned feet, and in a moment it was as steady as if it had
been planted in the ground. Though, owing to the crosspiece, it was
considerably inclined, its steadiness was not impaired, and even when
the boy ascended and descended it, causing the centre of gravity to be
continually altered, there was not the slightest wavering perceptible.
So with the other feats achieved by these remarkable performers.
Everything was done with the deliberation which forms an essential
part of the Japanese nature, but there were no needless delays, and
whether the man was balancing the ladder on his feet, or whether he was
spinning tops and making them act as if they were rational beings, or
whether he was making two paper butterflies flutter about as if they
were real insects, the same quiet perfection characterized the whole of
the performance, and every feat was done with such consummate ease that
it looked as if it really required no skill at all. The extraordinary
life which the Japanese performers contrive to infuse into inanimate
objects is almost incredible. Had not the feat been actually seen, it
would be scarcely possible to believe that a top could be spun, and
then launched off to perform the following feats without being even
touched:--
It ascended an inclined plane to a temple, the doors of which were
closed. It knocked open one of the doors, entered the temple, waited
inside some time, and then knocked open another door at right angles
to the former, and emerged. It then went over an inclined bridge,
entered another temple, and went up stairs, emerging at an upper story.
It then proceeded along an inclined plane standing at right angles
to the temple, and passed over a drawbridge, which was immediately
lifted, leaving a gap over which the top had to pass in order to get
back again. However, by the loosing of a catch, the top was flung over
the gap, and went on as gayly as ever, finishing with entering a third
temple, ringing a bell inside, coming out again, and running over two
more bridges into the hands of the spinner, having traversed some forty
feet, besides the work in the temples.
The same man spun a top upon the edge of a sword, making it pass from
one end of the blade to the other. He flung the top in the air and
threw the string at it: the top caught the middle of the string by the
peg, wound itself up, and was again flung into the air, spinning faster
than before. It was then caught on the slender stem of a pipe, along
which it ran as if alive, was passed behind the back, and caught again
in front, and lastly, was received upon the hem of the sleeve, made to
spin up the garment, over the neck and shoulders, and down the sleeve
of the opposite side. It was also made to spin upon a slight string
stretched from the wall, and to pass backward and forward as long as
the spinner chose.
Some of these tops required no string, but were merely spun with the
hand; they could be taken up and put down again, still spinning, or
they could be stood on their heads and still spin, or they could be
built into a perfect edifice of tops, three or four spinning upon
each other, sometimes each leaning in a different direction, and then
being brought upright by a touch of the ever-ready fan. The concluding
feat was a very curious one. Some thirty feet above the heads of the
spectators was hung a model of a temple, from which depended a string.
The chief top-spinner then took a small but very heavy top, wound up
its string, and flung the top in the air, drawing back the arm so that
the top came flying into his hand. He went under the temple, gave the
pendent string a half turn round the peg, and away went the top into
the temple, bursting open its doors, and flinging out a quantity of
rose leaves, which came fluttering down round the top as it descended
the string, and fell into the hands of the performer.
CHAPTER CLVII.
JAPAN--_Concluded_.
MISCELLANEOUS CUSTOMS.
SUMPTUARY LAWS -- SYSTEM OF ESPIONAGE -- THE DUPLICATE EMPIRE --
POWERS OF THE TYCOON AND MIKADO -- THE DAIMIOS AND THEIR RETAINERS
-- THE TWO SWORDS -- LONINS, OR OUTLAWS -- JAPANESE FENCERS --
DEFENSIVE ARMOR -- ARCHERY -- THE HAPPY DESPATCH -- PUBLIC EXECUTIONS
-- ARCHITECTURE -- REASONS FOR ITS FRAGILITY -- PRECAUTIONS AGAINST
FIRE -- SIMPLE HABITS OF THE JAPANESE -- AMUSEMENTS AND GAMES --
WRESTLERS -- THEATRES IN JAPAN -- CURIOUS ARRANGEMENT OF PLAYS --
THE TEA-HOUSES AND THEIR ATTENDANTS -- JAPANESE ART -- THE PORTABLE
INKSTAND -- THE CRANE, HERON, AND STORK -- THE SNOW-CLOAK -- SILK
MADE BY NOBLES.
In Japan there is a tolerably strict code of sumptuary laws, certain
modes of dress and the power of carrying certain weapons being denied
to all except the privileged classes. We will, therefore, take a hasty
glance at the different ranks in Japan.
With regard to all official ranks a duplicate system exists throughout
the kingdom. At the head of the government there are two emperors,--the
civil emperor, or Tycoon, and the spiritual emperor, or Mikado. The
former of these potentates (whose title is sometimes spelled as
Siogoon) is the real administrator of the empire, although he is
nominally inferior to the Mikado, an inferiority which is carefully
marked by certain visits of ceremony paid to the Mikado, but is not
allowed to proceed beyond mere etiquette.
Indeed, the powers of the Tycoon himself are practically limited,
though theoretically unbounded, and the government is in fact exercised
by the nobles, through a double council, one of which is chosen by the
emperor, and the other selected by the nobles from themselves. Every
man who is employed in the duties of government has his duplicate, or
“shadow,” as he is called; he is subject to espionage on every side,
and is himself a spy on others.
This system, uncomfortable as it may appear, has its advantages.
According to Mr. Oliphant: “One most beneficial result arising from
this universal system of espionage--for it extends through all classes
of society--is the entire probity of every government _employé_. So
far as we could learn or see, they were incorruptible. When men can
neither offer nor receive bribes; when it is almost impossible, even
indirectly, to exercise corrupt influences, there is little fear of
the demoralization of public departments of the state. In this respect
Japan affords a brilliant contrast to China, and even to some European
countries. So long as this purity exists, even though purchased at the
cost of secret espial, there can be little cause to fear the decadence
of Japan.”
It is as well to mention in this place that the word Tycoon, or Tai-kû,
is not of Japanese but of Chinese origin, and that it came into use
through its insertion in an official document, the unlucky minister who
employed it having in consequence fallen into disgrace and poverty. The
name of Tycoon is never applied to him by the Japanese, who use instead
the title which has been conferred upon him by his nominal superior,
the Mikado.
The Mikado, or spiritual emperor, is held in the greatest veneration,
and many of the honors paid to him are almost identical with those
which are rendered to the Grand Lama of Thibet. He is too sacred to
touch the earth with his feet, and is carried on men’s shoulders on the
rare occasions when he moves from one part of the palace to another.
Outside it he never goes. He is too holy to wear any garment twice, or
to use any article a second time, and, should any one venture to wear
or use a garment or utensil sanctified by his touch, he would bring
down on himself the vengeance of heaven. Consequently, every garment
that he has worn or every wooden utensil which he has employed is
burned, and those which are made of earthenware are broken.
A similar rule extends to his wives, of whom he has twelve, one of
them being the head wife or queen. A curious piece of etiquette is
practised by the wives of the Mikado. All other women dress their hair
into fantastic shapes, but the Mikado’s wives are obliged to allow
their hair to flow at length down their backs. In consequence of the
innumerable restrictions to which he is subjected, the Mikado generally
becomes tired of his comfortless rank, and resigns in favor of his heir.
Next come the Daimios or nobles, who, as among ourselves, are of
different ranks, and who are the real rulers of the country. The
difficulties which foreigners have experienced in Japan have almost
invariably been caused by the Daimios, who fear that their position as
feudal nobles may be endangered by the introduction of foreigners into
the country. The greater Daimios are as formidable as were the great
barons of early English history, and in like manner keep vast numbers
of armed retainers. There is a general idea that in Japan every man
wears a pair of swords. This is far from being the case, as none are
permitted to wear even one sword unless he be in the service of the
State. Even the wealthiest merchant may not wear a sword unless he is
enrolled among the retainers of a Daimio, and, as the privilege is a
great one, it is purchased for a certain annual sum. This indirect
tribute is a lucrative source of income to the Daimios, and enables
them to maintain the enormous retinue with which they are surrounded.
The higher classes in Japan are privileged to wear a garment called
the “hakkama.” This is much like the huge petticoat trousers of the
French Zouave, and is indeed a very full and abundantly plaited
petticoat, sewed together in the middle, and gathered in at the knees.
The wearers are inordinately proud of this garment, and, though one of
the unprivileged classes may purchase the right to carry a sword, no
expenditure of money will enable a man to wear the hakkama.
The most troublesome of the retainers are the Yaconins or Samourais,
men who have been admirably described by Sir Rutherford Alcock in his
“Capital of the Tycoon”:--
“All of a certain rank are armed with this formidable weapon projecting
from their belt; swords, like everything else in Japan, to our worse
confusion, being double, without much or any obvious distinction
between military and civil, or between Tycoon’s officers and Daimios’
retainers. These are the classes which furnish suitable specimens
of that extinct species of the race in Europe still remembered as
_Swashbucklers_,--swaggering, blustering bullies; many cowardly enough
to strike an enemy in the back, or cut down an unarmed and inoffensive
man; but also supplying numbers ever ready to fling their own lives
away in accomplishing a revenge, or carrying out the orders of their
chief.
“They are all entitled to the privilege of two swords, rank and file,
and are saluted by the unprivileged (professional, mercantile, and
agricultural classes) as _Sama_, or Lord. With a rolling straddle in
his gait, reminding one of Mr. Kinglake’s graphic description of the
Janissary, and due to the same cause,--the heavy, projecting blades
at his waist, and the swaddling clothes round his body,--the Japanese
Samourai or Yaconin moves on in a very ungainly fashion, the hilts of
his two swords at least a foot in advance of his person, very handy,
to all appearance, for an enemy’s grasp. One is a heavy, two-handed
weapon, pointed and sharp as a razor; the other short, like a Roman
sword, and religiously kept in the same serviceable state.
“In the use of these he is no mean adept. He seldom requires a second
thrust with the shorter weapon, but strikes home at a single thrust,
as was fatally proved at a later period; while with the longer weapon
he severs a limb at a blow. Such a fellow is a man to whom all
peace-loving subjects and prudent people habitually give as wide a
berth as they can. Often drunk, and always insolent, he is to be met
with in the quarters of the town where the tea-houses most abound; or
returning about dusk from his day’s debauch, with a red and bloated
face, and not over-steady on his legs, the terror of all the unarmed
population and street dogs. Happy for the former, when he is content
with trying the edge of a new sword on the quadrupeds; and many a poor
crippled animal is to be seen limping about, slashed over the back, or
with more hideous evidences of brutality. But, at other times, it is
some coolie or inoffensive shopkeeper, who, coming unadvisedly between
‘the wind and his nobility,’ is just as mercilessly cut down at a blow.”
In some sort of a way, each noble is responsible for the acts of his
retainers. Therefore, if any of these men determine upon some act
which they know will compromise their master,--say the assassination
of some one whom he dislikes,--they formally divest themselves of his
protection, and become “lonins,” or outlaws, or almost exactly the
same as the “masterless-men” of the feudal English days. Each of them
carries with him a paper on which his renunciation is written, and to
perform such an act is thought extremely honorable. Nearly all the men
who murdered Europeans were lonins.
The swords which these men wear in virtue of their rank are most
formidable weapons, the temper of the steel, the balance of the weapon,
and the slight curve of the edge, being all that can be desired.
They are finished with the utmost care, and every part receives the
minutest attention. A very beautiful specimen of the shorter sword
was presented to me by C. Allen, Esq., of Blackheath. It measures
two feet four inches in total length, of which the handle occupies
nearly nine inches. This roomy handle of the Japanese sword presents
a remarkable contrast with the small and cramped hilts of the Indian
weapons. It affords an admirable grasp for the hand, being covered with
diamond-shaped patterns of silken cord twisted over a basis of rough
skate-skin. The blade is a little more than an inch in width, and even
after a stay of many years in this country, is as bright as a mirror
and sharp as a razor.
Indeed, for a hand-to-hand encounter, it would be difficult to find a
more formidable weapon, even the kookery of India being inferior to
it, as being heavier and less manageable. It is equally adapted for
thrusting or cutting, and is so effective for the former purpose that
one of these swords has been driven completely through a man’s body by
a single thrust. The balance of the weapon is admirable, and, though it
is somewhat unsightly, it can be managed with perfect ease.
The amount of labor that has been bestowed on this particular weapon is
really astonishing. The effect is not in the least obtrusive, and it
is only by close examination that its beauties can be seen. The blade
is left entirely without ornament, its excellence being shown by its
high polish and sharp edge. But, with the exception of the blade, every
portion of the weapon has its ornament. On the guard is represented a
buffalo grazing under a tree, the groundwork being of bronze, and the
leaves of the tree and the herbage being gold. Between the silken cords
of the hilt and the skate-skin are inserted two beautifully executed
models, in bronze, of a bow and arrows, the feathers of the arrows
and wrappings of the head being gilt. One of these models is inserted
on either side of the hilt, which is terminated by a richly engraved
bronze ornament.
In the upper part of the sheath is kept a small knife, somewhat similar
in shape to that which is kept in the chopstick-case of the Chinese.
The handle of the knife is bronze, and is adorned with the figure of
a crayfish, beautifully wrought in gold, together with a banner and
one or two other devices. The sheath itself is a wonderful piece of
workmanship. At a little distance it looks as if it were covered with
dark-brown leather; but a closer inspection shows that it is entirely
covered with a minute and delicate pattern that looks as if it had
been traced with a needle’s point, and must have cost the artist a very
considerable expenditure of labor.
The larger sword is made after precisely the same pattern, except that
it is four feet in length, and must be used with both hands. With one
of these swords a Japanese will strike off a limb at a single blow;
and so sharp are they, that an executioner, in beheading a criminal,
scarcely raises the sword a foot for his stroke. The Japanese swordsmen
practise the use of their weapon by means of sham swords, with which
they fence, the combatants padding their limbs and sides, and covering
their faces with wire masks. They have a very dangerous cut, which is
made by the mere motion of unsheathing the sword, and takes effect at a
distance where an inexperienced person would think himself safe.
So good is the temper of these weapons, that a Japanese has been known
to sever a thick iron bolt with a single blow, the edge of the sword
not showing the slightest indication of the severe test to which it had
been put. The Japanese name for the large sword is “ken”; that of the
shorter, “kattan.”
Defensive armor was at one time much worn by the Japanese, though
at the present day the introduction of improved firearms has caused
them to abandon armor, except for purposes of show. A complete suit
of Japanese armor is shown on page 1469. It is made of multitudinous
plates hung upon cloth, and profusely ornamented by gilding. Though
very light, it is strong enough to resist the blow of the long sword,
though it is worse than useless against rifled fire-arms. Indeed,
had it not been for the recent disuse of protective armor, we should
scarcely have been able to procure a suit; but, finding their suits of
mail to be practically useless, the Japanese nobles very generously
presented many of them to their foreign guests, and allowed others to
be sold.
The oddest part of the suit is the helmet, with its appendages. The
fantastic crest is very light, being made of exceedingly thin material,
covered with gilding; and is so slight that a blow with a stick would
crush it. Perhaps the reader may wonder at the beards which apparently
depend from the chins of the soldiers. The fact is, the helmet is
furnished with a very complete visor, shaped like a mask, which covers
the whole of the face, and is decorated with a large gray beard and
mustache, in order to strike terror into the beholders.
The bow is a favorite weapon with the Japanese, who expend nearly as
much labor upon it as they do upon the sword. It is mostly japanned in
black, and adorned with various decorations. Some of these bows are
very powerful, and are strung in rather a peculiar manner, the archer
placing the lower end of the bow on the ground, and grasping the upper
end with his right hand. He plants his right foot on the middle of the
bow, bends it with the united powers of his foot and right hand, and
with his left slips the string into its place. The arrows are made like
those of China, but, in accordance with the national character of the
people, are more highly finished.
One of the strangest weapons used by the Japanese is the war fan. Like
the Chinese, the Japanese are never without the fan, and are obliged,
by force of long habit, to take it into battle. The fan which is kept
for this purpose has its sheath made of iron, and is of very large
size, so that if the warrior be surprised without his sword, he is sure
to have his fan ready by way of a club. These fans are decorated with
the national emblem, a red sun on a black ground.
In connection with the Japanese weapons must be mentioned some of their
modes of punishment. The first is the celebrated Hara-kiri, or Happy
Despatch, and consists of suicide by ripping open the abdomen with two
cuts in the form of a cross. Only the upper classes are privileged to
perform the Happy Despatch, and to them it is in reality a privilege.
If a Japanese official has failed in some duty, or committed some
act which is likely to call upon him the anger of his superiors, he
applies for permission to perform the Hara-kiri. At the appointed time,
he assembles his friends, dresses himself in white, as a token of
innocence, gives an entertainment, and makes a speech upon the position
in which he is placed. He then takes the fatal knife, and as he raises
his clothing for the purpose of inflicting the wounds, a good swordsman
comes behind him, bearing a two-handed sword or “ken.” The victim
begins the Hara-kiri, but, as soon as he has made a slight incision,
his head is swept off, so that death is not the result of the horrid
wounds in the abdomen.
Sometimes, however, when time presses, the victim is obliged to perform
the Hara-kiri as he can, and in that case dies from the self-inflicted
wounds. For example, in several cases where assassination has been
attempted, and notably in the celebrated attack on the British
Legation, when the would-be assassins were chased on the succeeding
day, it was found that three of them had committed the Hara-kiri, two
of whom were already dead, but one was still living and was captured.
In these cases the weapon used for the purpose is the shorter sword, or
“kattan.”
When a man has committed the Hara-kiri, he is supposed to have died an
honorable death, and so to have earned for himself a reputation as a
brave man. His family are proud of him, and his memory is reverenced.
But should he lose his life by the hand of the executioner, his whole
property is confiscated, his family falls under ban, and his name is
held as infamous. It will be seen, therefore, that the Hara-kiri is
really a very great privilege, especially among a people so entirely
indifferent to life as the Japanese.
Public executions are very simply carried out. The criminal is taken
to the spot on a horse, and when he arrives, is bound, and made to
kneel on the ground over a hole which is to receive his head. The
executioner, who uses the “ken” above named, arranges the culprit’s
head in the proper position, and, apparently without any effort,
decapitates the man with a blow. The old traveller Purchas very neatly
expresses the mode of execution by a single word. After narrating
the preliminaries, he states that the criminal “holds out his head,
presently _wiped_ off.”
Crucifixion is employed by the Japanese as well as by the Chinese, and
is mostly reserved for high treason. Minor punishments are not much in
vogue, inasmuch as a theft above a certain sum entails the penalty of
death, and so does a theft of a smaller sum if repeated. Flogging and
banishment are sometimes employed as punishments. The dreadful tortures
to which the earlier Christian missionaries and their converts were
subjected appear to be reserved for political and religious offenders.
The architecture of the Japanese is rather peculiar. Owing to the
physical condition of the country, and its liability to earthquakes,
the houses are not remarkable for size or beauty. Private houses are
never of any great height, a little exceeding forty feet being the
utmost limit. They are built of wood, and, wherever possible, are only
one story in height. They have a very ingenious mode of dividing their
houses into rooms. Instead of using permanent walls for that purpose,
they prefer folding screens made of wood and paper, so that they can
alter at will the size and shape of the rooms.
The floors are covered with mats, which serve also as measurements.
They are beautifully made of straw and rushes, are several inches in
thickness, and by law obliged to be exactly of the same dimensions,
_i. e._ one “kin,” or seven feet four and a half inches in length, and
half as much in breadth. The window frames are movable, and, instead of
glass, are filled with oiled paper, mica, and the translucent shell of
the great pearl oyster. The partitions of the houses and all the posts
are curiously varnished and painted, and the Japanese, essentially
a cleanly people, are very careful in keeping the interior of their
houses in the best possible order. Like many Orientals, they always
remove their sandals before entering a house, and no one even enters a
shop without slipping off his shoes.
The roof is also of wood, and is generally composed of thick boards,
which are kept in their places by wooden pegs, or by heavy stones laid
upon them. The ends of the roof project considerably beyond the walls,
so that they protect the doorways from the sun. On the roof of each
house is kept a tub full of water, and near at hand is a broom, so
that, in case of a fire, all the wooden roofs are at once drenched with
water. The extremely inflammable nature of the materials renders this
precaution needful; and, in addition, there are cisterns and tubs kept
in the streets, together with tolerably effective fire-engines.
The furniture of the houses is on the same simple plan as the edifices
themselves. A Japanese, no matter what his rank or wealth, has but
little furniture. From the highest Daimio to the ordinary workman,
the furniture of the houses is much the same. The room is bare, and
floored by mats; a few shelves hold some cups and saucers, and there
are generally several small trays on stands. This, with a few coverlids
and a small pillow, made of wood and having a padding on the top,
constitutes the furniture of the living-room. As to the kitchen, one or
two small movable stoves, a few pans of metal, and some brooms, are all
that are needed.
The Japanese cannot in the least understand why their Western visitors
should encumber themselves with such quantities of furniture, which,
to them, are not only useless, but absolutely in their way. They need
neither tables, chairs, sideboards, nor bedsteads, and care nothing for
large and handsome rooms.
Some years ago, when preparations were made for the reception of a
British Consul in Hakodadi, it was almost impossible to find any place
that could accommodate him. However, after much trouble, a locality
was found. After the arrangements had been made, the Japanese Governor
rose, took Sir R. Alcock by the hand, and led him through a corridor to
a little room, or rather closet, nine feet by six, and quietly remarked
that in that room his successor would be installed.
Sir R. Alcock has some very pertinent remarks on this subject: “As
we slowly wended our way through the streets, I had full opportunity
of observing the absence of all the things _we_ deem so essential
to comfort, and which crowd our rooms almost to the exclusion, and
certainly to the great inconvenience, of the people who are intended to
occupy them, as well as to the detriment of the proprietor’s purse.
“If European joints could only be made supple enough to enable their
owners to dispense with sofas and chairs, and, _par conséquence_,
with tables; and we were hardy enough to lie on straw mats, six feet
by three, stuffed with fine straw, and beautifully made with a silk
border, so as to form a sort of reticulated carpet for rooms of any
size; the solution of that much-debated question, the possibility of
marrying on 400_l._ a year, might certainly be predicted with something
like unanimity in favor of matrimony. The upholsterer’s bill can never
offer any impediment to a young couple in Japan.
“Their future house is taken, containing generally three or four
little rooms, in which clean mats are put. Each then brings to the
housekeeping a cotton stuffed quilt, and a box of wearing apparel for
their own personal use; a pan to cook the rice, half-a-dozen larger
cups and trays to eat off, a large tub to bathe and wash in are added,
on the general account: and these complete the establishment.”