[Illustration: A BOY OF OLD JAPAN.]
_A BOY of
OLD JAPAN_
_BY
R. VAN BERGEN_
_Author of
The Story of Japan, The Story of
China, Heroic Japan, etc., etc._
_Illustrated with original
Japanese Color Pictures_
_BOSTON
LEE and SHEPARD
M C M I_
COPYRIGHT 1901, BY LEE & SHEPARD
_All rights reserved_
A BOY OF OLD JAPAN
Norwood Press
Berwick & Smith, Norwood, Mass.,
U. S. A.
TO
MY LITTLE SON
HENRY A. S. VAN BERGEN,
IN RECOLLECTION
OF OUR PLEASANT VISIT
TO CAMBRIDGE
PREFACE
I am under deep obligations to the publishers, for giving me an
opportunity to tell the story of the rejuvenation of Japan. I was a
witness, although at that time I did not comprehend the movement, but
I, and those few who are still living, do now.
From a federation of mutually autonomous oligarchies, Japan was
metamorphosed into an Empire which holds Russia at bay. From a nation
occupying 150,000 square miles, it has expanded by the addition
of Formosa, and its population has grown from thirty millions to
forty-five millions. An oriental people adopted occidental progress,
and within three decades or little more than one generation, digested
and assimilated our progress.
I have known, and was personally known to the men, whose story I have
endeavored to tell. They are now honored under the simple name of
Genrô,--statesmen of Revolutionary Times. Of the brilliant array of
patriots whose names appear in these pages, only Ito, Inouye, and OKuma
remain!
I have kept the names. Why should I not? Only honor can be bestowed
upon such patriots as they; and the world delights to honor them.
Besides, there is a healthy spirit for the young in a _true_ story of
devotion, sacrifice, and self-restraint. How often does a child, when
reading an interesting story, ask: “Papa, is this true?” In this case
the father may conscientiously answer: It is.
All the characters as portrayed in these pages, were living actors
in the great national drama. Of those whose names have never before
appeared in print, Karassu Maru, the only _impulsive_ noble I have
ever known, was the first imperial governor of Yedo. He died in
August, 1872, and I attended his funeral. Honami came to Yedo with the
emperor, but he was soon sent back to Kyoto, where he was placed under
guardianship.
I have enjoyed the retrospective communication with my old friends.
If my readers do so, they owe the pleasure to the publishers, who
suggested the composition of the book.
R. VAN BERGEN.
CAMBRIDGE, MASS., _Nov. 12, 1900_.
Contents
CHAPTER PAGE
I. Japan Asleep 1
II. The Old Yashiki 10
III. The Messenger 21
IV. The Fifth Day of the Eleventh Month 32
V. The Council of the Clan 44
VI. Young Kano Grows Up 55
VII. Kano’s Journey to Yedo 65
VIII. Yokohama in 1859 76
IX. New Experience 88
X. Friendship or Hatred 97
XI. Choshiu Yashiki 107
XII. Sonno Joï! 118
XIII. Plotting 129
XIV. Within the Palace 141
XV. Underground Rumbling 151
XVI. The Court Aroused 161
XVII. A Conference 171
XVIII. Flight 184
XIX. Battle and Defeat 195
XX. Drilling 206
XXI. Down With Tokugawa 216
XXII. Conclusion 226
Illustrations
Inouye in Samurai Costume Frontispiece
PAGE
Peace reigned over the country 5
A Japanese Family 24
Ito’s mother, suffering from rheumatism, to receive
a massage treatment from one of the servants 31
It is really a day devoted to Hachiman, the god of war 59
He was in Kamishimo 118
The friends were standing in the garden of a Teahouse 165
But the houses are still as they were before 229
A BOY OF OLD JAPAN
I
JAPAN ASLEEP
Japan had been asleep for more than two hundred years. About the time
when the Pilgrim fathers landed in what is now known as the New England
States, the man who ruled over Japan had made up his mind that he would
have nothing more to do with the people of Europe, and he gave orders
that no more foreigners should be admitted. He made one exception in
favor of the people of Holland, but on condition that only a very
small number of them should reside in Japan at a time; and they must
be satisfied with the tiny island of Deshima[1] in the harbor of
Nagasaki,[2] and promise that they would obey the governor of that city.
It was not many years before this time, when the Japanese had been glad
to receive every European, but they had found out that the Portuguese
and Spaniards wished to be masters of their country, and so their
kindness had changed first into dislike and afterwards into hate.
The Portuguese had taught many Japanese about our Lord, and a number
of them had become Christians. But the Shogun[3] ordered that all
Christians must be killed, and thousands of them were put to death.
He gave also orders that all large ships must be destroyed, and that
thereafter only small vessels could be built. Besides, he threatened to
put to death any Japanese who should return to his country after having
been abroad, even if he had been carried away against his will. No
foreigner could come to Japan and no Japanese could leave his country.
They could, therefore, learn nothing from other people. That is why I
said that Japan had been asleep for more than two hundred years.
In all that long time there had been no change. Just as Japan was in
1621, so it was in 1853. The houses were still built in exactly the
same way, the men and boys dressed exactly as their ancestors had done
before, and so did the women and girls, and they lived in the same
manner.
The people worked hard from early in the morning until late at night.
The merchants, mechanics, and farmers, toiled from the beginning of
the year to the end, without any Sundays or holidays, except on New
Year’s day, and perhaps a few days later. They had nothing to say in
the government, and belonged to the Lord on whose estate they were
living. The whole of Japan was divided into about three hundred of such
estates; some of them very large and others again very small. Over each
of these estates was a daimiyo,[4] or lord, who was assisted by as many
samurai,[5] or knights, as the estate could support. These knights
were the civil officers of the estate while there was peace; but as
soon as war broke out they were soldiers, always ready to go into
battle, and to die for their lord.
The greatest of all the daimiyo was the Shogun[3], or
Commander-in-chief, who resided in his large castle at Yedo.[6] It was
he who made the laws for all the Japanese, and he had so many samurai
that not even the greatest daimiyo dared disobey him. But, although he
had as much power as any emperor, still he was not the real Emperor
of Japan. Many, many years before there was any Shogun, the country
had been governed by the ancestors of a man who was living quietly in
Kyoto.[7] His house was shaped like a temple, and stood in the most
beautiful grounds that can be imagined. When the people spoke of him,
they whispered: Tenshi Sama,[8] for he was to them the Child of Heaven,
the descendant, as they thought, of the gods who created Japan.
But Tenshi Sama, they believed, was too mighty and too great to care
about such a small thing as governing the people. All he had to do
was to pray to the gods to take care of Japan, and they would surely
hear his prayers. Since the first Shogun ruled over Japan, there had
been many wars and much bloodshed, because many daimiyo wanted larger
estates than they possessed. All these wars ceased in the year 1600,
when the Daimiyo of Tokugawa,[9] named Iyeyasu,[10] defeated his rivals
at Sekigahara,[11] and caused the Tenshi Sama to make him Shogun.
[Illustration: “PEACE REIGNED OVER THE COUNTRY.”]
Iyeyasu was such a brave general, and besides an able as well as a
generous man, that the country began to enjoy peace. The great daimiyo
tried once more to shake off his rule, but they could not do it. In
1615 the last battle was fought, and the daimiyo were defeated so
badly that they gave in. Iyeyasu punished some of them very severely.
He took a very large part of the estate of Lord Mori,[12] the Daimiyo
of Choshiu,[13] and divided it among two of his sons. Mori henceforth
was the enemy of Tokugawa, and so were all the great daimiyo who had
suffered defeat. But Iyeyasu ordered them to build yashiki,[14] or
mansions, in Yedo, and to live there half of the year. Iyemitsu,[15]
the grandson of Iyeyasu and the third Tokugawa Shogun, commanded them
to leave their wives and children at Yedo, where he held them in his
power. He made laws for the people, the samurai, and the daimiyo, and,
since he had an army of 80,000 samurai on his own estates, he was
strong enough to make the daimiyo obey him.
Thus all war ceased in Japan and peace reigned over the country. The
merchant plied his trade, the mechanic worked at his craft, and the
peasant toiled in his field, as their fathers had done before them, and
they brought up their sons to do as they had been taught. There was,
therefore, no progress; and there was very little liberty.
The only people who really did have something to say, were the samurai
or knights. They did not work, but were paid by the daimiyo whom they
served. They were very proud of being _gentlemen_, and never failed
to speak and act as they believed was right. Thus Japan continued
until the year 1853. Then a number of “fire-ships,” their smoke stacks
belching forth a dense smoke, steamed up Yedo Bay. The cliffs echoed
the throbbing of the engines. In vain did the Shogun’s guard boats
warn them to go back. They did not heed these commands any more than
when the tide turned, and the current tried to stop their progress.[A]
On, on they went toward the capital of the Shogun, until the shoaling
water warned them to cast anchor. Their commander was notified that he
must leave, but he replied that he carried a letter for the Shogun, and
would not go before he had delivered it. The government at Yedo did not
know what to do. The Japanese are very shrewd, and understood quite
well that the samurai, armed with bow and arrow and in old fashioned
lacquered armor, were no match for guns and cannon. The government was
_afraid to refuse_ to receive the letter, and a year later it signed a
treaty, because _it was afraid_ to enter upon war with these strangers.
The officers of the government knew the strength of the foreigners, but
the samurai of the other daimiyo did not; and when they heard that the
Shogun had entered into a treaty, _because he was afraid_, they became
angry and excited. From that time it was certain that the Tokugawa
princes would be Shogun no longer. The anger of the samurai increased
when a new treaty was made, in 1858, between the government of Japan
and that of the United States through Mr. Townsend Harris. For the
following ten years there was trouble in Japan, and the samurai began
to think that Tenshi Sama should drive the foreigners into the ocean.
That was easier said than done, but the samurai did succeed in taking
the government away from the Tokugawa, and Tenshi Sama became emperor
indeed, and he is so still.
Mutsuhito,[16] the Emperor of Japan, was only a boy of fifteen when
he was taken out of his beautiful palace in 1867. He is now (1900)
forty-eight years old, and has seen Japan grow from a poor little
country into a great and strong empire. Our story begins in the year
1858, and will show how a Japanese samurai boy was brought up.
II
THE OLD YASHIKI
Great preparations for receiving guests were being made in the Kano
Yashiki at Nagato. To-morrow would be the fifth day of the eleventh
month of the fourth year of the oldest son and heir, and the boy would
be invested with the _hakama_[17] of the samurai.
There would be a great gathering of the Choshiu clan, for the Kano
family had been great in the council, and was trusted by daimiyo and
samurai alike. The history of the Mori family was as much the history
of that of Kano, at least ever since Kano Shimpei had tried to keep his
lord from fighting Iyeyasu. The Mori of that time had refused to heed
his knight’s advice, and sent him away in disgrace. But Kano would not
desert his master. He had followed him to Osaka, and when the battle
was lost, had saved his lord by continuing to fight until Mori was
rescued by a small band of devoted samurai. Kano himself died covered
with wounds. The Daimiyo of Choshiu had never forgotten the advice nor
the heroic death of Kano Shimpei. They had honored his descendants, and
every Kano had tried to show his great loyalty to his lord.
The Kano Yashiki stood within the outer moat of Choshiu’s castle. A
massive gateway faced the street. On each side was a high, plastered
wall covered with tiles. This wall surrounded the yashiki and its
grounds, and gave it the shape of a perfect square. The doors of the
gate were of heavy wood, plated with iron and studded with huge iron
bolts. They swung inward on hinges, but were opened only for the
daimiyo, if he should honor his samurai with a visit, or for a knight
of equal rank of the owner. For all other callers there was a little
gate by the side, where the guard could examine all that entered or
left.
A short but broad road, composed of pulverized shells mixed with soft
white sand, led from the gate to the samurai residence. It was a fine
two story building, with verandahs running round the house. It was
built upon posts about two feet high and resting upon stones so that,
if an earthquake should happen, the building could move with the wave
of the earth. The verandahs were made of kayaki[18] wood, and polished
until it shone like a mirror. The building was really a large and
strong shed, with thick posts upholding the roof with its heavy tiles.
There were no walls. Paper sho ji,[19] or sliding doors, set loosely
in grooves, took their place. They could be easily taken out, to allow
fresh air. These grooves were so arranged that the whole floor could
easily be changed into several apartments or rooms. The upper story
had a balcony at the back, overlooking the spacious and beautifully
kept gardens, with ponds, little hills, and copses of trees. At the end
of the balcony as well as on the verandahs were closets, holding the
ame,[20] or rain doors. These were slid into deep grooves along the
outer edges of the verandahs and balcony at night or when a storm arose.
The owner of the house was sitting in one of the rooms at the back of
the house. He was a man of about thirty, of middle size, but strongly
built. His hibachi[21] stood before him, but he was evidently in deep
thought. He did not expect any visitors, for he had taken off his
hakama, and was sitting in his simple cotton kimono,[22] or gown.
Suddenly he clapped his hands three times. The sound of: hai, hai![23]
came from a distance, and presently one of the sho ji was slid aside,
and Mrs. Kano appeared dutifully on hands and knees. She could not be
seen very well, as she bowed her head upon her hands, as a salute to
her master and husband, but when he remained silent, she raised her
head and asked softly:[24]
“Did you call?”
She could be seen now. Mrs. Kano was perhaps eighteen, certainly not
more than nineteen years old. Her jet black hair was done up in a
matronly coil and glistening with patchouli or oil from the cactus
plant. Her forehead was fair, but eye-brows she had none, for a
Japanese wife, before her marriage, was compelled to pull them out.
Her teeth were of a shining jet, another custom of married ladies.
But, disfigured as she was, her soft and gentle voice showed that Mrs.
Kano had been taught the Onna Daigaku,[25] or the Greater Learning for
Women, and that she was willing to try to please her husband.
When he heard his wife’s voice, Kano looked at her, bowed slightly, and
said:
“Have all preparations been made for to-morrow’s reception?”
“Yes,” she replied, “all your orders have been obeyed.”
“Very well,” he said, and she withdrew.
Kano was thinking of his son. He remembered the death of his father,
when he was only eighteen years old. How he had looked up to him! How
gently, and yet how firmly had his father trained him in the manly
exercises of the samurai, hardening his body to despise luxury and
ready to bear cold or heat at any time. How he had taught him the
family history, with its fine record of loyalty and self sacrifice, and
how he had commanded him to follow in the same path. Kano felt that
he had done so. He remembered the illness which had struck the strong
man so suddenly and with fatal ending, and which caused the son such a
deep pain. His father’s last words: “The wise man of China says that
the greatest disrespect to a father is not to have any son,” had caused
him to marry as soon as the time of mourning was over. And now he was a
father himself, and the time had come that he must begin to train the
child.
Had he done his duty, according to the laws and custom of the samurai?
Why, certainly. On the seventy-fifth day after its birth, the child
had left off its baby-linen. On the hundred and twentieth day it had
been weaned. Every ceremony had been observed as it should be by a
gentleman of Kano’s family. Kano’s own brother had fed the child, and
My Lord’s cousin had acted as sponsor. He had taken the child on his
left knee and as weaning father had taken of the sacred rice which had
been offered to the gods. He had dipped his chop-sticks three times
in it, and then placed them in the mouth of the child as if giving it
some of the rice juice. He had followed the honored custom to feed
the child three times from the five cakes made of rice meal. When the
three cups of sake[26] were brought on the tray, the sponsor drank them
and offered one to the child, now restored to his guardian. The boy
pretended to drink two cups, and the sponsor had produced his present.
Every ceremony had been observed, and the feast which followed had
shown that Kano intended to follow in the footsteps of his fathers, in
honoring the customs of Old Japan.
Again on the fifteenth day of the eleventh month, when the boy’s
hair was allowed to grow, not a single ceremony was neglected; and
to-morrow Kano would prove once more that he loved the customs of his
father and was willing to abide by them.
Again a sho ji slid open, but this time it attracted Kano’s attention.
A servant girl kneeling on the door sill was waiting until her master
should speak.
“What is it?” he asked.
With a deep drawn breath, as if overwhelmed at the honor of being
spoken to, she replied:
“Mr. Hattori[27] wishes to speak to your honor.”
Kano rose hastily and, opening a cupboard, seized his hakama and
slipped it on over his kimono. Thus prepared to receive his old-time
friend, he ordered the girl to admit him. A moment later, and the
visitor entered with a shuffling gait, and, falling upon his knees,
three times touched his head to the ground. Kano replied in the same
manner, each in turn repeating the same ceremonious phrases, which
custom demanded of men of their rank.
At last Hattori was seated upon the cushion which the servant had
placed for him, and tea was brought in. When the servant had withdrawn,
the two men smoked in silence, until Hattori knocked the ashes out of
his pipe, and asked:
“Have you seen him?”
Kano raised his brows slightly, and answered:
“I do not understand you. Do you mean the sponsor? Certainly, I have
seen him.”
“Ah! you are thinking of to-morrow! No, I do not mean the sponsor or
any one connected with your family. Bah! I mean the new guest we must
entertain, and who will offer you his congratulations.”
“A new guest!” exclaimed Kano. “Surely, I must be growing dull, for I
fail to catch your meaning.”
“Well, then,” said Hattori, cautiously looking into the garden,
“another metsuké[28] arrived this afternoon from Yedo, and was bold
enough to come to the castle and demand to be admitted. I was ordered
to receive him and find out what he wanted. When I came into the room
where he was waiting, he introduced himself by handing me a letter from
the Go rojiu,[29] to the clan. There were enough councillors present to
open it, so I excused myself and called our friends. It was very brief
and to the point. The Go rojiu desires to mention our clan as a model
for Japan, and has therefore sent this fellow to report.”
“What is his name?”
“Sawa.”[30]
“Sawa, Sawa,” repeated Kano slowly. “I think I know the name. How old
is he, do you think?”
“He must be forty at least, and he seems cut out for his work. His oily
talk is disgusting; and while he flatters you, his eyes are restlessly
peeping in every nook and corner.”
“What have you done with him?”
“The usual thing. We accepted the letter and told him that we would
deliberate carefully about it, and let him have an answer in a couple
of days. He bowed himself out and was carried in his norimono[31] to
the hotel. But I hear he has sent his servants to find out if he can
not rent a vacant yashiki. So, you see, he intends to remain some time,
and send in a full report.”
Kano was silent. He was evidently displeased; suddenly his attention as
well as that of his friend was drawn to a soft footstep on the gravel
walk of the garden, and presently a young man appeared at the steps
leading from the verandah to the path. He faced the room and bowed low.
Both returned the salutation, but Kano muttered between his teeth:
“Ito![32] What on earth brings him here?”
III
THE MESSENGER
The intruder, if he may be so called, mounted the steps and, entering
the room, saluted in the usual manner. He was invited to approach,
and, clapping his hands, Kano ordered the servant to bring in another
cushion, and fresh tea. When these had been brought, and the visitor
was seated, Kano said:
“When did you leave Yedo?”
“Just a week ago.”
“Is there anything new?”
“Why, I think so. It is said openly by Tokugawa men that the foreign
devils, with whom the Go rojiu have made a treaty, will be permitted to
settle down at Yokohama.”
“Settle down! What do you mean?” exclaimed Hattori.
“Where is Yokohama?” asked Kano.
Ito replied first to the question of his host.
“Yokohama is a little distance from the Tokaido,[33] near Kanagawa, the
last post station at this side of Yedo.” Then, turning toward Hattori,
he continued:--“Yes; the new treaty permits them to buy land and to
build houses.”
“But,” said Hattori, aghast, “that means that Japan is invaded. These
foreign devils have come with their fire ships and guns, and by threats
have accomplished their purpose. What has become of the Tokugawa? Have
they lost their manhood, to submit to such a disgrace!”
“Softly!” said Kano. “There may be reasons why the Go rojiu has
permitted them to come so close to Yedo. It must be so. It must be a
trap to destroy the intruders in such a manner that others like them
will think twice before they come again.”
“I wish I could think so,” said Ito. “No! I believe that the Tokugawa
are afraid of an invasion. Their samurai, with the exception of those
of Mito and Aidzu,[34] are not worth their salt. Have you ever seen,
during your residence in Yedo, a Tokugawa Knight practising at arms.
They are quick enough to draw their swords upon a beggar or a merchant,
but when they meet one of the samurai of the southern clans, they fly
to cover. No! Since Ii Naosuke[35] is regent, he has looked closely
into the forces which the Tokugawa can muster, if a war should break
out, and he thinks that it must be avoided at any cost. Of course, he
expects that the samurai of the great clans will be furious, and he
has sent a large number of spies to report what is said. One of these
gentry was sent here. I heard of it in time to follow him, and I came
on to warn you.”
Both Kano and Hattori expressed their thanks, and Kano said:
“But if the Tokugawa are not able to prevent a handful of foreigners
from landing, how can they expect that the great southern clans will
obey them?”
“Oh!” replied Ito, smiling grimly; “we have been obedient for so many
years, trembling when the Go rojiu frowned, that the regent believes it
will continue forever. He had a meeting of all the daimiyo connected
with his clan, and tried to convince them that we must now receive
these foreigners, and try to learn all that they know. Then, when we
can handle their fire ships and their cannon, we may expect to drive
them into the sea.”
[Illustration: A JAPANESE FAMILY.]
Hattori put his hand upon his dagger, but Kano, with a friendly motion
of his hand, calmed him. “There may be something in that,” he said
thoughtfully. “Mind you!” he continued, “I do not underrate Japanese
courage, but we do not know the strength of these barbarians. We have
been living like frogs in a well. It is easy enough to engage in war,
but it is best to know the number of the enemy, before you engage in
what may prove too heavy odds. Such a thing would be foolish. But we
may come to a settlement with the Tokugawa. If indeed, their samurai
have lost their courage, then my lord of Choshiu may recover the land
from which he was robbed, and I may avenge my ancestor’s death. When
will the councillors of the clan meet?”
“The day after to-morrow,” replied Hattori.
Kano clapped his hands, and ordered the servant to send up dinner for
his guests and himself. Hattori and Ito made some excuses, but were
easily induced to remain.
Small tables were brought in and placed before each man. First sake or
wine made from rice, was served hot, and a small stone bottle placed
near each person; then there was _suimono_, a sort of vegetable soup,
after which rice was ladled out into cups or bowls. A number of side
dishes, such as pickled _daikon_, a sort of giant radish, _tsubo_ or
stewed sea-weed, and soy, a sauce, were enjoyed by the samurai.
The conversation had been interrupted when the servants entered, and
was not resumed. The men spoke of the ceremony to take place the next
day; and Ito was invited. Before leaving, however, Kano told Hattori
that he would ask the councillors of the clan to remain after the
reception was over, so that they might discuss their plans for the
future.
Ito and Hattori bowed good-bye, as they were going in different
directions. Each carried a lantern, for it was dark, and there was no
street lighting in Japan at that time. At the corner of the street, Ito
stopped as if in doubt. Then, after a few moments, he seemed to make up
his mind, for he turned to the left, and went hastily toward the castle
entrance. The heavy gate was closed, but the little side gate stood
ajar. Ito entered, and giving his name to the officer of the guard,
went along the barracks where many of the samurai of lower rank dwelt.
At last he stopped before a small door, and knocked softly. He heard a
shuffling of feet, and a woman’s voice demanded who was there.
“Is Mr. Inouye[36] in?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Tell him that Ito Saburo wishes to see him.”
The woman seemed satisfied, for the door slid open, and Ito entered.
Without waiting he mounted the steps, and opening a sho ji, stepped
into a room, dimly lit by a rushlight placed in a paper lantern. Ito
fell on his knees, and saluted in the usual manner, which salute was
returned by the owner of the room, a man of Ito’s age, but of more
slender build.
The two men had not met for two years; for Ito had been ordered to
remain at the Choshiu yashiki in Yedo, and Inouye’s duties had kept him
at Nagato. But they had corresponded by every courier carrying letters
to and from the capital, for they had been friends ever since they were
little boys. Yet when they met after such a long absence, there was no
glad “Helloh!” with a hearty clasp of the hand, as we would meet an old
friend. Pleased as they were to see each other again, they had been
taught that good breeding demands that gentlemen should always show
courtesy and respect to others of their own rank. Certain sentences
must be uttered before any ordinary conversation can begin. Therefore
Ito said:
“I was very rude the last time we met, but I hope you have forgiven me.”
“No,” replied Inouye, “it was I who was rude, and I pray you to
overlook it.”
It is needless to say that neither of them had really been rude, but
custom demanded that this should be said, and the same custom prevails
in Japan to-day. We think that it is foolish, and the Japanese think us
very rude, because we do not obey that custom.
After these customs had been observed, the two friends sat down, and
Ito said:
“Has any progress been made in your studies of the barbarian nations?”
“Nothing worth boasting. I have been twice to Nagasaki to try if I
could pick up some of the books of the Hollanders, but the Tokugawa
officers will not permit any stranger to approach the island of
Deshima, unless they are bribed with more money than I possess. Still,
I have learned enough to know that Japan is not in a condition to fight
the barbarians, and I am afraid, I think, that the regent was right in
submitting to their demands.”
“I do not think so,” replied Ito. “Right! What right has the Tokuwaga
to sell an inch of Japan’s soil. It does not belong to them. It is the
property of Tenshi Sama, if it belongs to anybody. It makes me angry to
think that we can no longer boast that
The foot of the invader has never trod our soil.”
“There will be no invasion,” said Inouye. “These men only want to
trade. If they had intended to use force, they would have done so when
they came the second time, with a large fleet. No! I do not believe
that our country is in danger, at least not for some years. But they
may come as spies to find out what opportunity there is to obtain
possession of Japan. The Yedo government should try to discover what
the intentions of the barbarians really are.”
“The Yedo government is only anxious to make money. You do not know,
Inouye, how good it feels to breathe the pure air of Nagato. It is
stifling at Yedo. Spies, spies are everywhere. The Tokugawa samurai
seem to have forgotten that they are gentlemen, and how a samurai
should behave. They are quick enough to draw their swords upon men who
cannot defend themselves, but they are nimble with their feet when hard
blows may be expected. If Japan must go to war, we, the samurai of the
south will do the fighting. The day of the Tokuwaga is past.”
There was a brief silence, when Inouye said:
“I have not yet asked you what brings you here. I had not heard that
you had been relieved from duty at Yedo.”
“I was not relieved. But we were informed that the Go rojiu intended
to send new spies to the southern diamiyo, and I was ordered to inform
the councillors of the clan. It seems that Sawa, the chief spy, arrived
just before me. I suppose I shall be told to return to Yedo, but I hope
not. At any rate I shall see you before I leave.”
After the usual salutations Ito rose and lit his candle. After leaving
the door, he went through the grounds to the opposite barracks, where
his mother lived. Knocking at the little wicket, he was admitted with
many bows and glad exclamations. These he returned with some pleasant
words, and entered the sitting-room. Presently his mother entered, and
both knelt down and saluted in the respectful and courteous manner of
their people. There was no kissing or even handshaking; both were, of
course, very happy, but Japanese law forbade showing joy, even in the
expression of the face. Ito would have obeyed at once any order his
mother might have given him; but she considered him as the head of the
family, and showed that she looked upon him as the master of the house.
[Illustration: “HIS MOTHER, SUFFERING FROM RHEUMATISM, TO RECEIVE
MASSAGE TREATMENT FROM ONE OF THE SERVANTS.”]
They chatted for half an hour about their acquaintances and then
retired. Ito’s mother, suffering from rheumatism, to receive a massage
treatment from one of the servants.
IV
THE FIFTH DAY OF THE ELEVENTH MONTH
The day broke calm and smiling. Japan, especially those parts around
the Inland Sea, has a lovely climate. It is seldom that the sky is not
of a deep blue color, and the days are few when children cannot play or
walk in the streets. They are rarely kept in the house. Young babies
are securely fastened upon the backs of children six or seven years
old, and sent into the streets. There are no noisy games. Girls play
sometimes battledore and shuttlecock, but the boys are too dignified.
American boys would be surprised if they saw two Japanese school
friends meet in the street. They do not approach with a hop, skip and
jump, or clap each other on the shoulder. Oh no! They stop as soon as
they meet, take off their caps, for all Japanese schoolboys wear now a
sort of soldier cap, and then bow almost to the ground. Then they draw
a deep breath, and each continues on his way.
The great difference between Japanese and American boys of the same
age, is that all our boys are fond of fun, and we are glad to see them
have a good time, while a Japanese boy would not be able to understand
what we call fun. Our boys would soon grow sick if there were not some
time in the day when they could make all the noise they wished. If a
Japanese boy should make even the slightest unnecessary noise at home,
his parents would think that the world had turned topsy-turvy. From his
earliest youth, the boy is trained not to show his feelings. In all the
years of my life in Japan, I have never seen a boy of over six years
old with tears in his eyes.
It is eleven o’clock, and the guests begin to arrive. They come mostly
on foot, for they all live in the neighborhood; but there are a few
who hold such a high rank that they can only leave their yashiki
in a sedan chair, or on horseback. A servant brings a large bundle,
carefully wrapped. It is taken to the back room which has been made
much larger by the removal of several sho ji. Here Mr. Kano sits in
hakama and _haori_,[37] receiving each guest as he enters according to
his rank in the clan. To some his bows are deeper and more prolonged,
with others they are more simple, although at the entrance of every
guest, his forehead touches his hands, spread out upon the floor before
him. The visitors take their places about the room in the order of
their rank, each saluting the host as he enters and thereafter the
guests. Waitresses in a kneeling posture serve tea. At last a man of
dignified bearing, clothed in rich silk, enters, and after saluting,
sits down upon a cushion prepared for him near the master of the house.
Kano is about to clap his hands, as a signal for his son to be brought
in, when a man-servant opens a sho ji, and kneeling with his head
almost touching the mats, crawls toward his master. He whispers:
“Mr. Sawa of Yedo desires to present his respects.”
Kano slightly raises his eyebrows, but by a slight bending forward
indicates that the new-comer shall be admitted. After a few moments the
latest guest enters and prostrates himself before his host, who returns
the compliment. Kano with a slight motion of the arm indicates the
place which he intends him to occupy, and Sawa, crouching and bowing to
the guests proceeds in that direction. It is between the seats of the
councillors and those of the chief samurai, and, as it happens, next to
that of Ito.
Not a single glance showed that the visitor was unwelcome. No
expression of approval had escaped their lips upon the entrance of
a popular member of the clan, and not a sign showed that Sawa’s
appearance at this time was resented. They sat unmoved, like the North
American Indian chiefs. Kano clapped his hands, and the servant brought
in a board, resembling one of our checkerboards; it was placed upon the
mat near the father, facing the point of the compass which had been
declared lucky by a fortune teller. The gentleman at Kano’s side then
clapped his hands, and another servant brought in the package which
had been delivered before. It was unwrapped, and contained a Kimono of
fine silk, with beautifully embroidered storks and tortoises, fir trees
and bamboos. This was as it should be. Storks and tortoises promised
long life to the boy; for the Japanese believed that the stork lives
a thousand years, and the tortoise ten thousand. The fir tree never
changes its color, therefore the child will possess an unchanging
virtuous heart, and the bamboo, as it shoots up straight, will give him
an upright mind.
The servant holds up the dress for the inspection of the guests, who,
after looking at it, express their approval by bowing low, and a deep
drawn sigh. Presently Mrs. Kano, who has been watching the ceremony
from a near apartment through a convenient slit in the sho ji, enters
leading the boy. Both kneel at the entrance and after touching the
ground three times with the forehead, the child is brought to his
father, who places him upon the checkerboard facing the east, because
that is the lucky point. The mother dresses him in the Kimono presented
by the sponsor, and puts on the hakama; then the child receives an
imitation sword and dirk, which are placed in his sash. Then sake is
brought in and the sponsor and child exchange cups. This ends the
ceremony which admits the three-year-old boy among the samurai of the
clan.
Mother and son, after repeating their salutations, leave the room and
refreshments are served. Gradually the sense of ceremony disappears,
and conversation becomes more general. Kano, apparently deeply engaged
in talking with the sponsor, keeps a watchful eye over his guests,
and frequently casts a glance toward the spot occupied by Sawa. The
sponsor, an elderly gentleman of dignified bearing, at last notices
his host’s looks, and says:
“Who is that gentleman? He is a stranger to me, and I cannot
distinguish his coat of arms.”
“He bears the Tokugawa crest, your lordship,” replies Kano, “and is the
new O Metsuke, whom the Council at Yedo have kindly sent to report upon
our model clan.”
The old gentleman did not notice the sarcasm. “When did he arrive, and
why was his arrival not made known to me?” he inquired in a slightly
offended tone. Kano bowed, and replied:
“Mr. Sawa arrived yesterday afternoon, and presented his letter at
the castle, where Councillor Hattori was ordered to receive him. As
we had not been notified by the Go rojiu of their intention to send
us a metsuké, Mr. Hattori thought that the letter should be submitted
to the council of the clan. I have noticed that he has spoken to the
councillors, who will wait here until the other guests have withdrawn.
If it please your lordship, we shall be glad to have the benefit of
your advice.”
“No, I cannot spare the time, and the matter is of no great
importance,” declared his lordship, continuing his repast. Presently
they were joined by Hattori, for whom a cushion was brought, and who,
after the prescribed bows of respect, took no further notice of Mori’s
cousin.
“I think, friend Kano,” he said, “that you may as well keep an eye
upon your honored guest, Mr. Sawa. The fellow seems to think that he
is at Yedo, instead of in a gentleman’s yashiki and that he can do
as he pleases. He has filled his sake cup quite often, and has been
offensive, to judge by the looks of Ito.”
“I have perceived it,” replied Kano, “but Ito will, I am sure, keep his
temper, and settle with the intruder upon a more favorable occasion.
I am more afraid of the young fellows who seem to have heard some
insulting remarks. Pray, entertain his lordship, while I dismiss the
guests.” Without waiting for a reply, Kano rose and, bowing before
each guest, advanced toward Sawa. There he knelt down and performed the
usual salutations somewhat stiffly. Sawa returned them as well as he
could.
When they had regained their upright positions, Kano addressed his
self-invited guest, and said in a tone loud enough for some young
samurai close by to hear:
“I am deeply grateful to the Go rojiu for remembering me on this
occasion. I do not know how I deserved this honor.”
Sawa had some difficulty to hide a grin. Did this country bumpkin
really fancy that the great Council of the Tokugawa cared anything
about him or his family. Amused at the thought, he bowed, and said:
“The Go rojiu no doubt, if it had only known of the event, would have
been glad to honor his host upon this occasion. It was known,” he
added more soberly and looking sharply at Kano, “that the Choshiu
clan was directed almost entirely by the wisdom of his entertainer,
and the question had been discussed to secure his services for the
Council. Unfortunately the law of Iyeyasu forbade it. Only members
of the Tokugawa clan were permitted to serve the Shogun. But this
did not prevent the Council from profiting by the wisdom of Kano the
Councillor, and it was to secure this benefit that he, Sawa, had been
directed to reside in the clan.”
Kano bowed, and replied. “It is a very great honor, indeed, and, no
doubt, well deserved by such an able man as my guest. Pray, make
yourself at home in the clan. You will find every Choshiu gentleman
glad to receive a samurai from the capital, where he has advantages to
learn manners which we in the country do not possess. But every samurai
is glad to excel in chivalry, and we of Choshiu no less than those of
other clans.”
Again they bowed, and Sawa resumed:
“I understand that this joyful event will be followed by a meeting of
the Honorable Council?”
“The regular meeting is to-morrow,” replied Kano. “I have received no
notice of any extra meeting, nor have I sent out any. It seems to me
that you are misinformed.”
“Forgive me, my host. Who is that young man, who happened to be my
neighbor during the most interesting ceremony? I fancy that I have seen
him at Yedo.”
“That is probably so. Indeed, it may have been very recently, for he
arrived yesterday. Choshiu’s yashiki seems to have suffered severely
from the last earthquake, and expensive repairs are necessary. Our
officer in charge thought it necessary to send a special messenger, but
why he did not commission an older man, is beyond my comprehension.”
Sawa began to perceive that this country bumpkin was quite able to
parry his thrusts; he did not want to give offense, and besides began
to feel sleepy. He therefore informed his host of his intention to
return to his inn. Kano raised no objection, and after the usual leave
taking, escorted his guest to the door, and saw him leave the gate.
Calling a young samurai, he bade him see that Sawa did not return to
the yashiki, whereupon he re-entered the room. The other guests, seeing
that the councillors lingered, withdrew all except Ito, who was asked
to wait as he might be wanted.
V
THE COUNCIL OF THE CLAN
Before he seated himself, Kano called his chief samurai, and told him
to have the sho ji put in so as to make the apartment of the usual
size. He also ordered him to have several men patrol the garden, and
to see that no one could approach the house, while he himself was to
move noiselessly through the adjoining rooms, and answer for it that
there should be no listener. Knowing that his orders would be obeyed,
he sat down, ordered tea and hibachi to be brought, and without further
ceremony opened the meeting.
“Honorable Councillors,” he said, “two messengers have come from
Yedo. You have, no doubt, noticed them, for both were here during the
ceremony in my humble house. The first one is the new metsuke, Sawa,
whom it has pleased the Go rojiu to appoint to our clan. When Mr.
Hattori informed me of his arrival, I could not understand the cause of
his appointment. Our clan has had no trouble with the Tokugawa for many
years; and, although there can be no friendship between the house of
Iyeyasu and that of Mori, there has been no open hostility.
“The arrival of the second messenger explains the situation. The Go
rojiu has entered into a new treaty with the barbarians, and permitted
them to dwell at Yokohama, near Kanagawa on the Tokaido. This fine
piece of news is discussed openly at Yedo, and there is no doubt of its
truth. The Regent, naturally I think, feels somewhat anxious as to how
the great clans will receive it, and has probably sent metsuke to other
model clans besides Choshiu. The news is so important that our friend
Hattori agreed with me to ask you to discuss it here privately, so that
we may decide upon the policy of our clan. Honorable Mr. OKubo, what is
your opinion?”
The person thus addressed was the oldest of the councillors, a man
grown gray in the service of his clan. He was silent for some moments,
gravely sipping his tea. Then he said:
“These questions are not for me to answer. I am only acquainted with
Old Japan, as it has existed for hundreds of years, and I am afraid
the arrival of these barbarians is a menace to our country. I don’t
know them, and do not wish to know them; but I do know that, before the
Tokugawa were thought of, the barbarians came, and were received kindly
by the children of the gods. What was their gratitude? They began to
teach a cult which destroyed the relations between parent and child,
master and servant, lord and retainer. They were finally expelled, but
it cost years of strife, and myriads of lives before their teaching was
rooted out of the country. Since then order has been restored, and we
have had peace. Now the barbarians will be admitted again, and fresh
troubles will commence. Younger and stronger heads than mine will be
needed to save our clan and the house of Mori, although, if it comes to
war, I shall claim the honor of dying fighting for our lord.”
All bowed but protested that OKubo was strong and able enough to lead
the councils of the clan; but he replied that his time of usefulness
was past, and Kano, out of respect for his wish, addressed the
councillor next in years. That gentleman did not see any danger to the
clan. Yokohama was a long distance from Nagato, and if there was to be
trouble with the barbarians, the Tokugawa would be the first sufferers,
for it was within the territory belonging to the Shogun. As to the
metsuke, why, they must do as they had done before with such fellows,
surround him with spies of their own.
Thus every councillor spoke in turn, the opinion of each being received
with grave courtesy. A little more interest was shown when Hattori
began to speak. It was known that he was in Kano’s confidence, and it
was a standing joke that Kano’s advice was always adopted.
“Honorable Councillors,” said Hattori, bowing deeply, “it ill becomes a
man of my age to dispute the opinions of the leaders who for many years
have guided the policy of our clan with brilliant success. If I venture
to differ with them, it may be from lack of wisdom and experience, but
I shall be glad if I am corrected. It is only by the kind teaching
of such men as the honorable councillors, that men of my age can be
prepared to follow in their footsteps.
“I am afraid that the coming of the barbarians promises evil days, not
only for the Tokugawa, but for all the clans. You, gentlemen, remember,
how the arrival of the fireships and the signing of the first treaty
was followed by incessant earthquakes,[B] how the ocean rose in its
fury, and overwhelmed the barbarian ship, supposed to be safely at
anchor at Shimoda.[C] Surely, gentlemen, the gods of Japan themselves
fought for our country. But the Go rojiu was blind. Was not the Shogun
Iyeyoshi himself killed for not defying the barbarians by expelling
them? ‘We are not strong enough,’ says the Regent. There was a time
when the countless hosts of Kublai Khan, the conqueror of the world,
were hurled upon our shores. What became of them? Tenshi Sama prayed to
his ancestors and they, the gods of our country, destroyed the invader.
We have nothing to fear, except our own faint-heartedness. Are we, the
samurai of Japan, unworthy of our ancestors? Have our muscles grown
weak that we can no longer wield the sword? Out upon us, then, for
cowards! If the Tokugawa be a coward, out upon the Tokugawa. Choshiu,
Kaga, Satsuma, and Tosa, ought to be able to dispose of the foreigners
and at the same time of the Tokugawa brood. Let us send confidential
messengers to those clans, and, after we have arranged with them, send
Mr. Sawa back to Yedo, securely packed in a box labelled: This side up;
handle with care!”
A smile of approbation passed through the assembly; only Kano’s face
showed no sign. It was now his turn to speak, and, after toying with
his fan, as if collecting his thoughts, he began: