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An Ohio Woman in the Philippines
Giving Personal Experiences and Descriptions
Including Incidents of Honolulu,
Ports in Japan and China
Mrs. Emily Bronson Conger
Published with illustrations
1904
Press of Richard H. Leighton
Akron, Ohio
TO HIS DEAR MEMORY.
To my beloved husband,
ARTHUR LATHAM CONGER,
whose love was--Is my sweetest incentive;
whose approval was--Is my richest reward.
Mizpah,
EMILY BRONSON CONGER.
INDEX
PAGES
Out of the Golden Gate 7-14
First Glimpses of Japan 15-20
From Yokohama to Tokio 21-25
Tokio 26-33
Japan in General 34-41
In Shanghai 42-49
Hong Kong to Manila 50-55
Iloilo and Jaro 56-66
The Natives 67-77
Wooings and Weddings 78-82
My First Fourth in the Philippines 83-88
Flowers, Fruits and Berries 89-92
The Markets 93-95
Philippine Agriculture 96-100
Minerals 101-103
Animals 104-106
Amusements and Street Parades 107-110
Festivals of the Church 111-114
Osteopathy 115-122
The McKinley Campaign 123-125
Governor Taft at Jaro 126-132
Shipwreck 133-138
Filipino Domestic Life 139-151
Islands Cebu and Romblom 152-154
Literature 155-159
The Gordon Scouts 160-162
Trials of Getting Home 163-166
OUT OF THE GOLDEN GATE.
CHAPTER ONE.
With the words ringing out over the clear waters of San Francisco
Bay as the Steamer Morgan City pulled from the dock, "Now, mother,
do be sure and take the very next boat and come to me," I waved a yes
as best I could, and, turning to my friends, said: "I am going to the
Philippines; but do not, I beg of you, come to the dock to see me off."
I did not then realize what it meant to start alone. I vowed to
stay in my cabin during the entire trip, but, as we steamed out of
the Golden Gate, there was an invitation to come forth, a prophesy
of good, a promise to return, in the glory of the last rays of the
setting sun as they traced upon the portals, "We shall be back in the
morning." And so I set out with something of cheer and hope, in spite
of all the remonstrances, all the woeful prognostications of friends.
If I could not find something useful to do for my boy and for other
boys, I could accept the appointment of nurse from the Secretary
of War, General Russell A. Alger. But, if it proved practicable,
I preferred to be under no obligations to render service, for my
health was poor, my strength uncertain.
The sail from San Francisco to Honolulu was almost without incident;
few of the two thousand souls on board were ill at all. They divided
up into various cliques and parties, such as are usually made up on
ocean voyages. When we arrived at Honolulu, I did not expect to land,
but I was fortunate in having friends of my son's, Hon. J. Mott Smith,
Secretary of State, and family meet me, and was taken to his more
than delightful home and very generously, royally entertained.
My impressions were, as we entered the bay, that the entire population
of Honolulu was in the water. There seemed to be hundreds of little
brown bodies afloat just like ducks.
The passengers threw small coins into the bay, and those aquatic,
human bodies would gather them before they could reach the bottom.
The city seemed like one vast tropical garden, with its waving palms,
gorgeous foliage and flowers, gaily colored birds and spicy odors,
but mingled with the floral fragrance were other odors that betokened
a foreign population.
It was my first experience in seeing all sorts and conditions of
people mingling together--Chinese, Japanese, Hawaiians, English,
Germans and Americans. Then the manner of dress seemed so strange,
especially for the women; they wore a garment they call halicoes like
the Mother Hubbard that we so much deride.
We visited the palace of the late Queen, Liliuokalani
(le-le-uo-ka-lá-ne), now turned into a government building; saw the
old throne room and the various articles that added to the pomp and
vanity of her reign. I heard only favorable comments on her career. All
seemed to think that she had been a wise and considerate ruler.
I noticed many churches of various denominations, but was
particularly interested in my own, the Protestant Episcopal. The
Rt. Rev. H. C. Potter, Bishop of New York, and his secretary,
Rev. Percy S. Grant, were passengers on board our ship, the Gælic. The
special purpose of the Bishop's visit to Honolulu was to effect
the transfer of the Episcopal churches of the Sandwich Islands to
the jurisdiction of our House of Bishops. He expressed himself as
delighted with his cordial reception and with the ready, Christian-like
manner with which the Supervision yielded. The success of his delicate
mission was due, on Bishop Potter's side, to the wise and fraternal
presentation of his cause and to his charming wit and courtesy.
It was still early morning when my friends with a pair of fine horses
drove from the shore level by winding roads up through the foot hills,
ever up and up above the luxuriant groves of banana and cocoanut, the
view widening, and the masses of rich foliage growing denser below or
broadening into the wide sugar plantations that surrounded palatial
homes. We returned for luncheon and I noted that not one house had
a chimney, that every house was protected with mosquito netting;
porches, doors, windows, beds, all carefully veiled.
After dinner we again set forth with a pair of fresh horses and drove
for miles along the coast, visiting some of the beautiful places that
we had already seen from the heights. The beauty of gardens, vines,
flowers, grasses, hills, shores, ocean was bewildering. In the city
itself are a thousand objects of interest, of which not the least is
the market.
I had never seen tropical fish before, and was somewhat surprised by
the curious shapes and varied colors of the hundreds and thousands of
fish exposed for sale. I do not think there was a single color scheme
that was not carried out in that harvest of the sea. Fruits and flowers
were there, too, in heaps and masses at prices absurdly low. With the
chatter of the natives and the shrill cry of the fishermen as they
came in with their heavily laden boats, the scene was one never to
be forgotten.
The natives have a time honored custom of crowning their friends at
leave-taking with "Lais" (lays). These garlands are made by threading
flowers on a string about a yard and a half long, usually each string
is of one kind of flower, and, as they throw these "Lais" over the
head of the friend about to leave, they say or sing, "Al-o-ah-o,
until we meet again."
This musical score is the greeting of good-day, good-morning, or
good-bye; always the greeting of friends. They chose for me strings
of purple and gold flowers. The golden ones were a sort of wax begonia
and the purple were almost like a petunia.
Instead of sitting on the deck of the steamer by myself, as I had
purposed, I had one of the most delightful days I have ever spent
in my life. It was with deep regret, when the boat pulled from the
wharf, that I answered with the newly acquired song, "Al-o-ah-o,"
the kindly voices wafted from the shore. We had taken on board many
new passengers, and were now very closely packed in, so much so,
that to our great disgust one family, a Chinaman, his wife, children
and servants, fourteen in number, occupied one small stateroom. It is
easy to believe that that room was full and overflowing into the narrow
hallways. Though he had eight or nine children and one or two wives,
he said he was going to China to get himself one more wife, because the
one that he had with him did bite the children so much and so badly.
I had never before seen so many various kinds of Chinese people,
and it was a curious study each day to watch them at their various
duties in caring for one another and preparing their food. Strange
concoctions were some of those meals. They all ate with chop-sticks,
and I never did find out how they carried to the mouth the amount
of food consumed each day. One day we heard a great commotion down
in their quarters, and, of course, all rushed to see what was the
matter. We were passing the spot where, years before, a ship had sunk
with a great number of Chinese on board. Our Chinese were sending off
fire crackers and burning thousands and thousands of small papers of
various colors and shapes, with six to ten holes in each paper. Some
were burning incense and praying before their Joss. The interpreter
told us that every time a steamer passes they go through these rites to
keep the Devils away from the souls of the shipwrecked Chinese. Before
any Evil Spirit can reach a soul it must go through each one of the
holes in the burnt papers that were cast overboard.
Bishop Potter asked us one day if we thought those Chinese people
were our brethren. I am sure it took some Christian charity to decide
that they were. One of these "brethren" was a Salvation Army man,
who was married to an American woman. They were living in heathen
quarters between decks and each day labored to teach the way of
salvation. Many of these poor people died during the passage; the
bodies were placed in boxes to be carried to their native land. A
large per cent. of the whole number seemed to be going home to die,
so emaciated and feeble were they.
There was fitted up in one of the bunks in the hold of the vessel a
Joss house. I did not dare to see it, but I learned that there was
the usual pyramid of shelves containing amongst them the gods of War
and Peace. Before each god is a small vessel of sand to hold the Joss
sticks, a perfumed taper to be burned in honor of the favorite deity,
and there is often added a cup of tea and a portion of rice. There are
no priests or preachers, but some man buys the privilege of running
the Joss house, and charges each worshipper a small fee. The devotee
falls on his knees, lays his forehead to the floor, and invocates
the god of his choice. Soothsayers are always in attendance, and for
a small sum one may know his future.
As between Chinese and Japanese, for fidelity, honesty, veracity and
uprightness, my impression is largely in favor of the Chinese as a
race. Captain Finch told me that on this ship, the Gælic, over which he
had had charge for the past fifteen years, he had had, as head waiter,
the same Chinaman that he started out with, and in all this period
of service he never had occasion to question the integrity of this
most faithful servant, who in the entire time had not been absent
from the ship more than three days in all. On these rare occasions,
this capable man had left for his substitute such minute instructions
on bits of rice paper, placed where needed, that the work was carried
on smoothly without need of supervision or other direction. The same
holds true of Chinese servants on our Pacific coast. I was much pleased
with the attention they gave each and every one of us during the entire
trip; it was better service than any that I have ever seen on Atlantic
ships. In the whole month's trip, I never heard one word of complaint.
Being a good sailor, I can hardly judge as to the "Peacefulness of
the Pacific." Many were quite ill when to me there was only a gentle
roll of the steamer, soothing to the nerves, and the splash of the
waves only lulled me to sleep.
By day there were many entertainments, such as races, walking matches,
quoits, and like games. Commander J. V. Bleecker, en route to take
charge of the Mercedes reclaimed in Manila Bay, was a masterly artist
in sleight-of-hand performances, and contributed much to the fun.
Often the evenings were enlivened with concerts and
readings. Col. J. H. Bird, of New York, gave memorized passages from
Shakespeare--scenes, acts, and even entire plays in perfect voice
and character. We thought we were most fortunate in the opportunity
to enjoy his clever rendition of several comedies.
But to one passenger, at least, the best and sweetest ministrations
of all were the religious services. Bishop Potter took part in all
wholesome amusements. He was often the director; he was the delightful
chairman at all our musical and literary sessions; but it was in sacred
service that his noble spiritual powers found expression. One calm,
radiant Sunday morning he spoke with noblest eloquence on these words
of the one hundred thirty-ninth psalm:--
Whither shall I go from thy spirit? or whither shall I flee
from thy presence?
If I ascend up into heaven thou art there; if I make my bed
in hell, behold thou art there!
If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost
part of the sea;
Even there shall thy hand lead me and thy right hand shall hold me.
Fifteen months later, when wrecked on the coast of Panay, his clear
voice again sounded in my soul with the assurance, "Even there shall
thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me."
FIRST GLIMPSES OF JAPAN.
CHAPTER TWO.
But for all our devices to while away the time, the thirty-two days of
ship life was to all of us the longest month of our lives. The Pacific,
as Mr. Peggotty says, is "a mort of water," a vast, desolate waste of
waters from Honolulu to our first landing place, Yokohama. We had a
wonderful glimpse of the sacred mountain, Fujiyama. The snow-capped
peak stood transfigured as it caught full the rays of the descending
sun. Cone-shaped, triangular, perhaps; what was it like, this gleaming
silhouette against the deep blue sky? Was it a mighty altar, symbol
of earth's need of sacrifice, or emblem of the unity of the ever
present triune God? 'Tis little wonder that it is, to the people
over whom it stands guard, an object of reverence, of worship; that
pilgrimages are made to its sacred heights; that yearly many lives
are sacrificed in the toilsome ascent on bare feet, on bare knees.
As we went through Japan's inland sea, one of the most beautiful bodies
of water on the globe, it seemed, at times, as if we might reach out
and shake hands with the natives in their curious houses, we passed
so near to them--the odd little houses, unlike any we had ever seen;
while about us was every known kind of Japanese craft with curious
sails of every conceivable kind and shape. On the overloaded boats
the curious little Japanese sailors, oddly dressed in thick padded
coverings and bowl caps on their heads, with nothing on limbs and
feet save small straw sandals, strapped to the feet between great
and second toes, looked top-heavy.
While I watched all these new things, I was eagerly on the lookout for
the wreck of the Morgan City, on which my son had sailed. Nothing was
visible of the ill-fated ship but a single spar, one long finger of
warning held aloft. As we passed on, watching the busy boats plying
from shore to shore, the Chinese on the boat chattered and jabbered
faster with each other than before; we fancied they were making fun of
their little Japanese brethren. We arrived at Yokohama about 9 P. M.,
and were immediately placed in quarantine. The next morning a dozen
Japanese quarantine officers appeared, covered all over with straps
and bands of gold lace. They looked so insignificant and put on such
an air of austere authority that one did not know whether to laugh or
cry at their pomposity. They checked us off by squads and dozens, and
by 12 o'clock we were ready to land. It was our first touch of Japanese
soil, and we were about to take our first ride in a Jinricksha. It was
very beautiful to hear as a greeting, "Ohio." As I had been told by
a Japanese student, whom I met in Cambridge, Mass., that this is the
national greeting, I was not unprepared as was a fellow passenger,
who said, "Oh, he must know where you came from." My height and my
white hair seemed to make me an object of interest. It was such a
novel thing to be hauled around in those two-wheeled carts, one man
pulling at the thills and another pushing at the rear. It is a fine
experience, and one which we all enjoyed. The whole outfit is hired
by the day for about a dollar, the price depending upon the amount
of Pigeon English the leader can speak. The first thing they say to
you is, "Me can speak English." We found the hotel admirably kept.
The blind Japanese are an interesting class. They are trained at
government cost to give massage treatment, and no others are allowed
to practice. These blind nurses, male and female, go about the streets
in care of an attendant, playing a plaintive tune on a little reed
whistle in offer of their services. The treatment is delightful,
the sensation is wholly new, and is most restful and invigorating
after a long voyage.
No wonder that so many of the Japs are weak-eyed or totally blind. The
children are exposed to the intense rays of the sun, as, suspended on
their mothers' backs, they dangle in their straps with their little
heads wabbling helplessly. From friends who have kept house many years,
I learned that the service rendered by the Japanese is, as a whole,
unsatisfactory. Their cooking is entirely different from ours, and
they do not willingly adapt themselves to our mode of living.
It is not my purpose to tell much about Japan and China; they were only
stages on the way to the Philippines; and yet they were a preparation
for the new, strange life there. But such is the charm of Japan that
one's memories cling to its holiday scenes and life.
The Japanese are really wise in beginning their New Year in spring. The
first of April, cherry blossom day, is made the great day of all
the year. There are millions of cherry blossoms on trees larger
than many of our largest apple trees--wonderful double-flowering,
beautiful trees, just one mass of pink blossoms as far as the eye
can reach. They do so reverence these blossoms that they rarely pluck
them, but carry about bunches made of paper or silk tissue that rival
the natural ones in perfection. No person is so poor that he cannot,
on this great festal day, have his house, shop, place of amusement
or, at least, umbrella bedecked with these delicate blossoms. It is
almost beyond belief the extent to which they carry this festal day,
given up entirely to greetings and parades.
Then the wonderful wisteria! In its blossoming time the flower clusters
hang from long sprays like rich fringe. From the hill-tops the view
down on the tiny cottages, wreathed with the luxuriant vines, is most
beautiful. A single cluster is often three feet long. They make cups,
bowls and plates from the trunk of the vine.
There are marsh fields of the white lotus. The ridges of the heavily
thatched roofs are set with iris plants and their many hued blossoms
make a garden in the air.
One should visit Japan from April to November. In the cultivation of
the chrysanthemum they lay more stress on the small varieties than we
do; they prefer number to size. The autumn foliage is beautiful beyond
belief,--vision alone can do it justice. The hillsides, the mountain
slopes are thickly set with the miniature maples and evergreens;
the clear, brilliant hues of the one, heightened by contrast with
the dark green of the other, are strikingly vivid.
The trees and shrubs are surely more gnarled and knotted than they are
in Christian countries. They are trained in curious fashion. One limb
of a tree is coaxed and stretched to see how far it can be extended
from the body of the tree. At first I could not believe that these
limbs belonged to a stump so far away. The Japanese pride themselves
on their shrubs and flowers. Nothing gave me more pleasure than
seeing all this cultivation of the gardens, no matter how small,
around each home. I did not see a single bit of wood in Japan like
anything that we have. The veining, color, texture and adaptiveness
to polish suggest marble of every variety.
At Yokohama I engaged a guide, Takenouchi. I found him to be a faithful
attendant; his devotion and energy in satisfying my various requests
was unwearied; I shall ever feel grateful to him. He would make me
understand by little nods, winks, and sly pushes that I was not to
purchase, and he would afterwards say: "I will go back and get the
articles for you for just one-half the price the shop-keeper told
you." They hope to sell to Americans for a better price than they
ever get from each other. We went to every kind of shop; they are
amusingly different from ours. Few things are displayed in the windows
or on the shelves, but they are done up in fine parcels and tucked
away out of sight. It is the rule to take two or three days to sit
at various counters before you attempt to purchase. The seller would
much rather keep his best things; he tries in every way to induce you
to take the cheaper ones, or ones of inferior quality. My guide was in
every way capable and efficient in the selection of fine embroideries,
porcelain, bronzes, and pictures.
FROM YOKOHAMA TO TOKIO.
CHAPTER THREE.
From Yokohama to Tokio, a two hours' ride on the steam cars,
one is constantly gazing at the wonderful country and its perfect
cultivation. There are no vast prairies of wheat or corn, but the land
is divided into little patches, and each patch is so lovingly tended
that it looks not like a farm but like a garden; while each garden is
laid out with as much care as if it were some part of Central Park,
thick with little lakes, artistic bridges and little waterfalls with
little mills, all too diminutive, seemingly, to be of any use, and
yet all occupied and all busy turning out their various wares.
I understand they even hoe the drilled-in wheat. The rice, the staple
of the country, is so cared for and tended that it sells for much
more than other rice. Imported rice is the common food.
As our guide said, we must go to the "Proud of Japan," Nikko, to see
the most wonderful temples of their kind in all the world. We took the
cars at Yokohama for Nikko. It was an all day trip with five changes of
cars, but every step of the way was through one vast curious workshop
of both divine and human hands. The railway fare is only two cents a
mile, first class, and half that, second class; we left the choice
to our guide. A good guide is almost indispensable. Our faithful
Takenouchi was proficient in everything; he was valet, courier,
guide, instructor, purchasing agent, and maid. I never knew a person
so efficient in every way; he could be attentively absent; he never
intruded himself upon us in any way. It is impossible to describe
the wonderful temples! They must be seen to be appreciated and, even
then, one must needs have a microscope, so minute are the carvings in
ivory, bronze, and porcelain, inlaid and wrought with gold and silver;
many of them, ancient though they are, are still marvels of delicate
lines of the patient labor of the past centuries. One of the gods,
which was in a darkened temple, had a hundred heads, and the only way
one could see it was by a little lantern hung on the end of a string
and pulled up slowly. But even in that dim light we stood awestruck
before that miracle wrought in stone. No one is allowed to walk near
this god with shoes upon his feet. Unbelievers though we were, we were
awed by the colossal grandeur of this great idol. The God of Wind,
the God of War, the God of Peace, "the hundred Gods" all in line,
were, when counted one way, one hundred, but in the reverse order
only ninety-nine. To pray to the One Hundred, it is necessary only
to buy a few characters of Japanese writings and paste them upon any
one of the gods, trusting your cause to him and the Nikko.
The bells, the first tones of which came down through that magnificent
forest of huge trees and echoing from the rocks of that wonderful
ravine, will ever sound in my ears as an instant call to a reverential
mood. The solemn music was unlike any tone I had ever heard before;
now it seemed the peal of the trumpet of the Last Day, now a call
to some festival of angels and arch-angels. As the first thrills
of emotion passed, it seemed a benediction of peace and rest; the
evening's Gloria to the day's Jubilate, for it was the sunset hour.
The next morning we took our guide and three natives to each foreigner
to assist in getting us up the Nikko mountain. It took from 7 o'clock
in the morning until 2 in the afternoon to reach the summit. Every
mountain peak was covered with red, white, and pink azaleas. Our
pathway was over a carpet of the petals of these exquisite blooms. We
used every glowing adjective that we could command at every turn of
these delightful hills, and at last joined in hymns of praise. Each
alluring summit, as soon as reached, dwindled to a speck in comparison
with the grandeur that was still further awaiting us. We stopped often
to let the men rest, who had to work so hard pulling our little carts
up these steep ascents.
There is a great waterfall in the hills, some two hundred fifty
feet high, but none of us dared to make the point that gives an
entire view of it. All we could see added proof of our paucity of
words to express our surprise that the reputed great wonders of
this "Proud" were really true. On returning we were often obliged
to alight and walk over fallen boulders, this being the first trip
after the extreme winter snows. At one place, being "overtoppled" by
the weight of my clothes and the cramped position that I had been in,
I lost my balance and fell down, it seemed to me to be about a mile
and a half. In a moment there were at least fifty pairs of hands to
assist me up the mountain side. A dislocated wrist, a battered nose,
and a blackened eye was the inventory of damages. Such a chattering
as those natives did set up, while I, with a bit of medical skill,
which I am modestly proud of, attended to my needs. The day had been
so full of delights that I did not mind being battered and bruised,
nor did I lose appetite for the very fine dinner we had at the Nikko
Hotel, so daintily served in the most attractive fashion by the little
Japanese maidens in their dainty costumes. In the evening the hotel
became a lively bazaar. All sorts of wares were spread out before
us--minute bridges modeled after the famous Emperor's Bridge at this
place. No person is allowed to walk upon it but His Majesty. The
story goes that General Grant was invited to cross over upon it,
but declined with thanks. In returning we drove through that most
wonderful grove of huge trees, the Cryptomaria, a kind of cedar,
which rise to a height of one hundred fifty or two hundred feet. I
may not have the number of feet exactly, but they are so tremendous
that one wonders if they can really be living Cryptomaria. Indeed,
much of all Japan seems artificial. Every tiny little house has its
own little garden, perhaps but two feet square, yet artistically laid
out with bridges, temples, miniature trees two or three inches high,
flowers in pots, walks, and little cascades, all too toy-like and
tiny for any but children. Nearly all of the houses have their little
temples, and the children have their special gods; little boys have
their gods of learning and their gods of war. The prayer to the god
of learning is about like this: "Oh, Mr. God of Learning, won't you
please help me to learn my lessons, won't you please help me to pass
my examinations, and Oh, Mr. God of learning, if you will only help
me pass my examination and to study my lessons and get them well,
when I get through I will bring you a dish of pickles." This prayer
was given me by a Japanese student who studied in our country.
We found that nearly every banking house and hotel had for their
expert accountants and rapid calculators, Chinamen. I finally asked
one of the proprietors how it happened and he said it was because
they could trust the Chinese to be more faithful and accurate. On
the other hand, when we got to Hong Kong we found that the policemen
were of India, because the Chinese could not be trusted to do justice
to their fellow men. There was such a difference between the service
of the coolie Jinricksha men in Hong Kong and in Japan. They did not
seem so weak or travel-weary, and yet they had often to take people
on much harder journeys.
TOKIO.
CHAPTER FOUR.
Tokio, the capital, with a population almost equal to New York, looks
like a caricature, a miniature cast such as one sees of the Holy
Land. The earliest mention of the use of checks in Europe is in the
latter part of the seventeenth century. The Japanese had already been
using them for forty years; they had also introduced the strengthening
features of requiring them to be certified.
Visiting the Rice Exchange in Tokio during a year of famine, when
subject to wide and sudden fluctuations, it was easy to imagine one's
self in the New York Stock Exchange, on the occasion of a flurry in
Wall Street. There was the same seeming madness intensified by the
guttural sounds of the language, and the brokers were not a whit
more intelligible than a like mob in any other city. I said to the
interpreter: "You Japanese have succeeded in copying every feature
of the New York Stock Exchange." "New York!" he exclaimed, "why, this
very thing has been going on here in Japan these two hundred years!"
The palace is a long, low building, unattractive in itself, but
its gardens with every beautiful device of native art, fountains,
bridges, shrines, fantastically trimmed trees, flowers, winding ways,
are amazingly artistic.
The Lord High Chamberlain has ordered every civil officer to appear at
court ceremonies in European dress. It seems such a pity, for they are
not of the style or carriage to adopt court costumes. One government
official wanted to be so very correct that he wore his dress suit to
business. So anxious are they to be thought civilized. There is nothing
that hurts a gentleman's feelings in Japan more than to hear one say,
"They have such a beautiful country and when they are converted from
heathenism it will be ideal." There is a strong Episcopal church and
college in the capital.
I am not at all prepared to judge the Japanese creeds or modes of
worship. But one may infer something of what people are taught,
from their character and conduct. The children honor their parents;
the women seem obedient to their husbands and masters; and the men
are imbued with the love of country.
The prevailing religion of Japan is Shintoism, and through the kindness
of Rev. B. T. Sakai, I will give a bit of his experience. He wished to
acquire a better knowledge of English and found that Trinity College in
Tokio could give him the best instruction. He went to this institution,
pledged that he would not, on any account, become a Christian, and
assisted in the persecution of his fellow students, who were becoming
convinced of the truth of Christianity. During the extreme cold
weather, the institution was badly in need of warmer rooms. Several of
the students met and decided to make an appeal to the Bishop. They went
to him, three Japanese boys who were converted and two who were not,
and told him in very plain language that they would not endure the
cold in their rooms any longer. The Bishop listened attentively and
finally said, "Well, young men, you are perfectly right, and I have a
very good solution of the difficulty. I am an old man and cannot live
many years, so I will give you my warm room and I will take the cold
one." He told me that was something new to him, that a person of his
years and standing should be willing to make so great a sacrifice. He
said that he could not keep the tears from running down his cheeks,
and on no account would any of these boys accept the Bishop's proposal;
he gave them a new idea of Christian charity.
KOBE AND NAGASAKI.
From Nikko we returned to Yokohama and thence by steamer to Kobe. The
U. S. Consul, General M. Lyon, and his wife met me. They gave me the
first particulars of the wreck of the Morgan City. Nothing could
exceed their kindness during the two days of my stay there. Their
familiarity with the language, the people, and the shops was a great
help to me. And when we returned home, I found the little son of my
hosts the most interesting object of all. Born in Kobe, cared for
by a native nurse, an ama, as they are called, he spoke no English,
only Japanese. He was a beautiful child, fair, golden haired, blue
eyed, and sweet of temper.
The garden of the U.S. Consul at Kobe was a marvel of beauty. There
was a rumor that the United States government might purchase it. I hope
so, because it is in a part of the city which has a commanding view of
the bay, and it is such a joy to see our beautiful flag floating from
the staff in front of the consulate. No one appreciates the meaning of
"Our Flag" until one sees it in foreign countries.
I visited the famous Buddhist Temple of Kobe; it was placed in a
garden and there were hundreds of poor, sore eyed, sickly, dirty
Japanese people around, and it gave one the impression that this
temple might have been used for other purposes than worship. In all
the temples that I visited, I never saw, except in one, anything
that approached worship, and that was in the Sacred Temple of the
White Horse, Nagasaki, and an American who had lived there for eight
years said that I must be mistaken for she had never heard of any
such doings as I saw. There seemed to be about a dozen priests who
were carrying hot water which they dipped out of a boiling caldron
and were sprinkling it about in the temple with curious intonations
and chantings. They ran back and forth, swishing the water about in a
very promiscuous manner. I stood at a respectful distance fearing to
get some of the hot fluid on myself. Meanwhile the White Horse stood
in the yard well groomed and cared for, little knowing what they were
doing in his honor. I could not hear of a single place where their
poor or sick and afflicted were cared for. They may have asylums and
hospitals, but I never heard of any.
Nagasaki is beautiful for situation. A river-like inlet, reminding
one of the Hudson river, leads into the broad lake-like harbor. Eight
or ten of our transports lay at anchor and still there was abundant
room for the liners and for the little craft plying between this and
the small ports.
The dock is famous; all our ships in the east put in here for repairs
if possible.
The high hills circle about the town and bay; they are highly
cultivated and dotted with the peculiar Japanese house. The native
house of but one story, is not more than twelve or fourteen feet
square, and is divided into rooms only by paper screens that may be
removed at will. The people live out of doors as much as possible,
or in their arbors. In cold weather a charcoal brazier is set in the
center of the house. At night each Jap rolls himself in a thickly
padded mat and lies on the floor with his feet to this "stove."
A party was made up to visit the Concert Hall of the celebrated Geisha
girls. General and Mrs. Greenleaf and many officers and their wives
from the transports were of the number. They kindly invited me to
join them. A sum total of about fifteen dollars is charged for the
entertainment; each one bears his share of the cost. It was a rainy
evening, rickshaws were in order. About thirty drew up before the
Nagasaki Hotel. It was a sight! the funny little carriages, man before
to pull, man behind to push, gaily colored lantern fore and aft and
amused Americans in the middle, laughing, singing, and enjoying the
fun, a strange contrast to the stolid native.
The long line of carriages wound in and out like a snake with shining
scales. The night was so dark that little was to be seen except the
firefly lights and the bare tawny legs of the rickshaw men.
It has been said that the Japanese are the soul of music. I am sure
that no ears are cultivated to endure it. As we entered the rooms
we were obliged to remove our shoes and put on sandals. Instead of
sitting down on chairs we took any position we could on the floor mats
that were placed at our disposal. At the first sound from the throat
of a famous singer in a staccato "E-E-E-E," we all sprang to our feet
thinking she was possibly going into some sort of a fit. With a twang
on the strings of the flattened out little instrument, we subsided,
concluding that the concert had begun. Then when the others joined
in, the mingled sounds were not unlike the wail of cats on the back
fence. The girls themselves looked pretty, in kneeling posture, lips
painted bright red, hair prettily braided and adorned with artificial
flowers or bits of jewelry. If they had been quiet they would have
looked like beautiful Japanese dolls seated on the floor. After several
"catterwaulings" by the choir, came the dances. It was all a series
of physical culture movements; the music was rendered in most perfect
rhythm by two of the girls, it was the poetry of motion. They would
take pieces of silk and make little bouquets, whirlwinds, and divers
things; the most beautiful of all was a cascade of water. It was hard
for us to believe it was not actually a waterfall. It was made of
unfolding yards of white silk of the most sheer and gauzy kind. From a
thin package six inches square, there shimmered out a thousand yards--a
veritable cascade of gleaming water. We were treated to refreshments,
impossible cakes and tea. We were thankful that we sat near an open
window that we might throw the cake over our shoulder, trusting some
forlorn little Japanese who liked it might get it.
The tea is finely powdered dust; the tea maker is supposed to measure
exactly the capacity of the drinker and to take enough of this finely
powdered tea to make three and one-half mouthfuls exactly. They do
it by taking a rare bit of porcelain and holding it in their hands,
turn it about and talk learnedly of the various, wonderful arts
of pottery and how many years they have had this certain piece of
fine porcelain, turning it about in the meantime in their hands
as they comment on its beauties and qualities, and then take three
large swallows of the tea and one small sip and then go on talking
about the wonders of the cup. These cups are anything but what we
should call tea cups. They are really large bowls, sometimes with
a cover but more often without. But it is refreshing to drink their
tea even if one cannot do it à la Jap. Everywhere in Japan you are
asked to take a cup of tea, in the steam cars, in the shops and by
the wayside. A Japanese told me that he could tell whether a person
was educated or not by the manner in which he drank tea. They take
lessons in tea drinking as we do in any accomplishment we wish to
acquire. One friend could not resist buying tea pots and pretty cups;
she had a grand collection after one day of sight-seeing.
Their potteries are not like ours, huge factories, but household
things. Here and there in a family is an artist who can make a bit
of porcelain, a few cups, plates, or saucers stamped with his own
individual mark. The quality varies, of course, with the skill of
the maker, but the poorest work is beautiful; and one develops an
insatiate greed to possess this and this and just one more.
The ancient Imari, Satsuma, and the old bits of pottery that have
been kept in the older families for centuries are, to my mind, the
most wonderful works of art of the kind in the world; they look with
pride on the articles of virtu as almost sacred.
JAPAN IN GENERAL.
CHAPTER FIVE.
One of the many objects to attract the eyes of one traveling in
Japan is the "Torii" or sacred gateway. It is said that once a bird
from Heaven flew down and alighted upon the earth. Here the first
gate was erected, the gate of heaven. Its construction, whether it
be of wood, stone or metal, is ever the same, two columns slightly
inclined toward each other, supporting a horizontal cross-beam with
widely projecting ends, and beneath this another beam with its ends
fitted into the columns; the whole forming a singularly graceful
construction, illustrating how the Japanese produce the best effects
with the simplest means. This sacred entrance arches the path wherever
any Japanese foot approaches hallowed ground. It is, however, over
all consecrated portals and lands, and does not necessarily indicate
the nearness of a temple. You find it everywhere in your wanderings,
over hill and dale, at the entrance to mountain paths, or deep in
the recesses of the woods, sometimes it is on the edge of an oasis
of shrubbery, or in the very heart of the rice fields, sometimes in
front of cliff or cavern. Pass under its arch and follow the path it
indicates and you will reach--it may be by a few steps, it may be by
a long walk or climb--a temple sometimes, but more often a simple
shrine; and if in this shrine you find nothing; close by you will
see some reason for its being there. There will be a twisted pine or
grove of stately trees, to consecrate the place and perpetuate some
memory. Perhaps the way leads to the view of some magnificent panorama
of land or sea spread out before the gazer who, with adoring heart,
worships the beauty or the grandeur of his country. Wherever there
is a Torii, there is a shrine of his religion; and wherever there is
an outlook over the land of his birth, there is a temple of his faith.
As we left Nagasaki for Shanghai, I noticed on this occasion, as
on four later visits, the great activity of this port as a coaling
station. It has an immense trade. Men, women, and children form
in line from the junk which is drawn alongside of our huge ships,
and then pass baskets of coal from one to the other. Many of the
women and girls have babies strapped on their backs, and there they
stand in line for hours passing these baskets back and forth. As I
was watching them one day, for I saw them loading many times, for
some reason not apparent, they all pounced upon one small man, and,
as I thought, kicked him to pieces with their heavy wooden shoes and
strong feet. After five minutes of such pummeling, as I was looking
for a few shreds of a flattened out Japanese, he arose, shook himself,
got in line, and passed baskets as before.
One day from my comfortable bamboo chair I watched some coolies
getting some immense timbers out of the bay near where I sat. It
did not seem possible that these small men could manage those huge
timbers, which were so slippery from lying in the water that they
would often have to allow them to slip back, even after they had
got them nearly on land. I expected every moment to see those poor
creatures either plunge into the water themselves or be crushed by
the weight of the heavy timbers; and while I watched for about two
hours they must have taken out about twenty or thirty logs, twenty
or twenty-five feet long and two feet through. I often watched the
coolies unloading ships. Two of them would take six or eight trunks,
bind them together, run a heavy bamboo pole through the knotted ends
and away they would go. I never saw a single person carding what we,
in America, pride ourselves so much on, "a full dinner pail." They
did not even seem to have the pail.
There are horses in Japan and they are poor specimens compared with
the fine animals that we know. They are chiefly pack-horses, used in
climbing over the mountains, consequently they go with their noses
almost on the ground. Instead of iron shoes they have huge ones made
of plaited straw. They are literally skin and bones, these poor beasts
of burden.
Horses may be judged, in part, by the mouth; but the Japs may be wholly
judged by the leg. It did distress me to ride after a pair of legs
whose calves were abnormally large, whose varicose veins were swollen
almost to bursting. As a rule, the men trot along with very little
effort and, seemingly, have a very good time. They cheerfully play
the part of both horseman and horse, of conductor, motineer and power.
I never could get used to the number of Jinrickshas drawn up in front
of the railroad station, and as it is the only way to get about the
country, I accepted it with as good a grace as I could. At a large
station there may be hundreds of rickshaws and double hundreds of
drivers, all clamoring as wildly as our most aggressive cabmen. They
wave their hands frantically, crying, "Me speak English! Me speak
English! Me speak English!"
They knew originally, or have learned of foreigners, how to cheat in
Japan as elsewhere. One often needs to ask, "Is this real tortoise
shell?" The answer, even if imitation, is "Now, this is good; this
is without flaw." I found it of great advantage, as far as possible,
to keep the same men, and they became interested, not only in taking
me to better places, but in assisting me in procuring articles, not
only of the best value, but at Japanese prices. It is never best to
purchase the first time you see anything, even if you want it very
badly. I secured one Satsuma cup that has a thousand faces on it. It
is very old, very wonderfully exact, and a work of very great art. It
took me several days to purchase it, as the man was very loath to
part with it, and at the end I got it for very much less than I was
willing to give the first day.
They do not seem to have any day of rest--all shops are open seven days
of the week. All work goes on in the same unbroken round. Indeed, from
the time I left San Francisco until my return, it was hard for me to
"keep track" of Sunday, even with the almanac I carried; and when I
did chase it down, I involuntarily exclaimed, "But today is Saturday
at home; the Saturday crowds will parade the streets this evening;
the churches will not be open until tomorrow morning."
I learned here that the average wages of a laboring man, working
from dawn to dark, is about seven cents a day of our money. The men
do much of the menial service, much of the delicate work, too. The
finest embroidery, with most intricate patterns and delicate tracings
in white and colors, is done by men. Two will work at the frame, one
putting the needle through on his side, and the other thrusting it
back. In that way the embroideries are alike on both sides, except
the work which is to be framed. They are so very industrious that
they very rarely look up when anyone is examining their work.
As I was watching some glass blowers, the little son of one raised
his eyes from the various intricate bulbs that he was handing to
his father and gave him the wrong color. Without a word of warning
the father gave him a severe stroke with the hot tube across the
forehead, which left a welt the size of my finger. Without one cry
of pain he immediately handed his father the correct tube and went
on with his work as if nothing had happened. I had intended to buy
that very article, but it would have meant to me the suffering it
cost the child, and I would not have taken it if it had been given me.
Sanitary conditions, as far as I could judge, were bad. The houses,
in the first place, are very small. I understand they are made small
on account of earthquakes. It is said that the whole of Japan is in
one quake all the time. They have shocks daily, hence, the houses
are only one story high.
I attended an auction of one of the finest collections of works of
art that had ever been placed before the public. The only way we
could tell that many of these works were especially choice was by the
number of elegantly dressed Japanese who were bending before them in
admiration. One could see that, as a whole, it was a collection of
rare things. The books and pictures were the most interesting. One
picture, "White Chickens," on white parchment was very artistic. It
did not seen possible that these white feathered fowls could so
nearly resemble the live birds in their various attitudes and sizes,
for there were about twelve from the smallest chick to the largest
crowing chanticleer of the barn yard. Another picture was of fish,
which was so exact that one could almost vow that they were alive
and ready to be caught. Indeed, one of the fish was on the end of
the line with the hook in his mouth, and his resistance was seen from
the captive head to the end of the little forked tail. They excel in
birds, butterflies and flowers; and one knows the full meaning of the
"Flowery Kingdom" of both China and Japan as one travels about. One
sees in the public parks notices posted, "Strangers do not molest or
capture the butterflies." For nowhere, except in this Oriental country,
are the butterflies so gorgeously magnificent.
Japan is truly a land of umbrellas and parasols. With frames made of
the light, delicate bamboo, strands woven closely and then either
covered with fine rice paper or silk, they are ready for rain or
sunshine. They all carry them. The markets are the most attractive
that one could imagine, but after hearing of the means used to enrich
the soil, it is impossible to enjoy any fruit or vegetable. In all
the towns are the native and the European quarters. In the latter one
can have thoroughly good accommodations; the service and attendance
are excellent.