_Isaac Titsingh—His Residence in Japan—Translations from the
Japanese—Annals of the Dairi—Memoirs of the Shōgun—Liberal Ideas
in Japan—Marriage Ceremonies—Funeral Ceremonies—Mourning—Feast of
Lanterns—A. D. 1779-1791._
Soon after Thunberg’s departure, he had a worthy successor in the
person of Mr. Isaac Titsingh, the first director at Deshima since the
time of Caron to whom we are indebted for any information about Japan.
Born about 1740, Titsingh had entered early into the service of the
Dutch East India Company. After seven years’ residence at Batavia, he
was sent to Deshima, as director, where he arrived August 15, 1779,
and remained till November 29, 1780, when he returned to Batavia. He
came back again to Japan August 12, 1781, and remained till November 6,
1783, the war between Holland and England, growing out of the American
revolution, having prevented the arrival of any ships from Batavia
during the year 1782,—an event of which Titsingh took advantage to
stipulate for a considerable advance in the price of Dutch imports, for
a term of fifteen years. He reached Nagasaki a third time, August 18,
1784, but left again November 26 of the same year. During his first and
second visits he made the journey to Yedo as Dutch ambassador, where he
succeeded in making several friends, particularly Kuchiki Samon, prince
of Tamba, who had learned Dutch, which he wrote tolerably well, with
whom, and other Japanese friends, Titsingh kept up a correspondence
for some time after leaving the country.
During his residence in Japan he made a valuable collection of Japanese
curiosities, including many Japanese books, and he also brought home
with him translations of some of these books, made by aid of Japanese
interpreters attached to the factory at Deshima, whose interpretations,
given _viva voce_, he wrote out in Dutch; for though Titsingh knew
enough of Japanese for the purposes of conversation, he does not seem
to have acquired the written language, nor to have been able to read
Chinese, of which the characters are largely, and, indeed, chiefly,
employed in most Japanese works of much pretensions. “I found,” he
says, “among the interpreters belonging to our factory four individuals
sufficiently well-informed for my purpose; a fifth had devoted
himself chiefly to medicine, in which he had made rapid progress, in
consequence of the instruction given to him by Dr. Thunberg. Far from
finding them suspicious and reluctant, as Europeans are usually pleased
to represent these persons, in order to palliate their own indolence,
they manifested, on the contrary, an eagerness to procure for me every
practicable information, to consult, in various matters beyond their
capacity, the best-informed individuals among the magistrates and
clergy, and to furnish me with books which might serve as a guide to my
labors.”
After leaving Japan, Titsingh was governor at the Dutch factory at
Chinsurah, in Bengal, where he became acquainted with Sir William
Jones. In 1794 he was sent, with Van Braam, on a Dutch embassy to
Pekin, with the design to counterwork the English embassy of Lord
Macartney; but this residence in China was limited to a few months.
Returning to Europe, after a residence in the East of thirty-three
years, Titsingh designed to publish the result of his Japanese
researches, in both Dutch and French; but, before having done it, he
died at Paris, in 1812, leaving his large fortune and his collections
and manuscripts to an only child of his, by an Eastern woman, by whom
the fortune was soon spent, and the manuscripts and curiosities sold
and scattered, though some of them ultimately fell into appreciating
hands.[70]
Among his translations, the one to which Titsingh ascribed the greatest
importance was that of the “Nippon Ōdai Ichiran,” an abridged Japanese
chronicle, from 600 B. C. to A. D. 1611, compiled in the year 1652,
and printed at Miyako. Having been carefully compared by Klaproth
with the original,—a task, as he says, from the manifold defects of
Titsingh’s version, almost equivalent to a new translation,—and having
been enriched with an introduction, a supplement and notes, this
work was published in 1834, in French, at the expense of the Oriental
Translation Fund, under the title of “Annales des Empereurs du Japan.”
Though highly valuable as a specimen of what Japanese histories are,
and though Klaproth’s introduction and notes contain some curious
information, this performance is, on the whole, exceedingly dry, while
it adds but little to the abstract given by Kämpfer of this or some
other similar work. A criticism which Titsingh himself makes upon it,
in a letter to the prince of Tamba, to whom he had intended to dedicate
his translation, is worthy of notice, as going to show how little, with
all its formal precision of years and months, the earlier Japanese
chronology is entitled to historical respect.
“Must we not suppose,” says Titsingh, “that the Japanese, so jealous
of their neighbors, the Chinese, have, in writing their own history,
endeavored to fill up many gaps in it by prolonging the reigns of
their earlier Dairi? There is in your history a period of one thousand
and sixty-one years occupied by the reigns of only sixteen Dairi. The
duration of the life of Jimmu, of the reigns of Kōan, of Suijin, and
the life of Ōjin, appear altogether improbable. The first died at the
age of one hundred and twenty-seven years. The second reigned one
hundred and two years, the third ninety-nine years. The last lived one
hundred and ten years. These statements are too extraordinary to be
blindly believed. Grant, even, that a chaste and frugal way of living
may have secured for these princes a very advanced age, but how does it
happen that, after Nintoku Tennō (the seventeenth Dairi), none exceeded
the ordinary limit of human life?
The Japanese still cling with tenacity to the formal recognition of the
absolute rights of the Dairi. With as much warmth as a loyal Englishman
would exhibit in maintaining the actual sovereignty of Queen Victoria,
they insisted to Titsingh—and the same thing afterwards occurred to
Golownin—that Europeans were mistaken in applying the term “emperor” to
the Shōgun, the Dairi being the only legal emperor, and the Shōgun but
an officer to whom the Dairi had entrusted the administration.[71]
The annual visit of the Shōgun to the Dairi, made in Caron’s time, had
been discontinued; but mutual embassies are still exchanged, and the
envoys sent from the Dairi are received by the Shōgun as if they were
the Dairi himself. The Shōgun goes to meet them, and conducts them to
the hall of audience, where he performs the kitō, bending before them
till his head touches the mats, as if they were the very Dairi. This
homage finished, the Shōgun resumes his rank, and the ambassadors then
perform the kitō to him. During their stay they are entertained by two
persons, who, from the allowance made for it, find this office very
lucrative. The ambassadors also receive rich presents, not only at
Yedo, but all along the route, and the attendance upon this service,
even in an inferior capacity, is so lucrative as to be eagerly coveted
by the poor courtiers of the Dairi. Titsingh encountered one of these
embassies on his return from Yedo, in 1782, and was obliged to stop a
whole day, and to lodge in a citizen’s house, all the horses, porters,
and inns being taken up by the embassy. However poor and powerless,
the courtiers of the Dairi still enjoy all the outward observances
of superior rank. The first princes of the empire must pay them the
homage of the kitō, and must lay aside their two swords in their
presence. For this reason, these princes, in going and returning to
Yedo, carefully avoid passing through Miyako.
A more interesting publication, from the manuscript of Titsingh, and
one which appeared earlier, is “Memoirs of the Djogouns” [Shōguns],
which had itself been preceded by a number of other pieces,
translations and originals.[72] These memoirs profess to be compiled
from Japanese manuscripts, of which Titsingh gives the following
account: “Since the accession of Gongen, founder of the present
dynasty, the printing of any work relating to the government has been
prohibited. The curious, however, possess manuscript accounts of all
the remarkable events that have occurred. These manuscripts are in
great request. The conduct of persons of elevated rank is sometimes as
freely censured in them as it would be in any country in Europe. The
obstructions which the government throws in the way of the publication
of historical works prevent these works from being known, and thus
obviate whatever might make an obnoxious impression on the minds of the
people, and endanger the interests of the reigning dynasty, as well
as the tranquillity of the empire. From some of these manuscripts are
extracted the particulars here submitted to the public. The Japanese,
to whom they belong, keep them carefully concealed, so that it is
difficult to procure a sight of them. If I was fortunate enough to
obtain the communication of those from which I have extracted such
curious notes, I am indebted for it to the ardent zeal with which my
friends assisted me in all my researches.” M. Abel Rémusat, the learned
Orientalist, who, at the request of the French publisher, prefixed
some preliminary observations to this publication, observes that,
“Thanks to the pains M. Titsingh has taken, we shall outstrip the
Japanese themselves, and, by an extraordinary singularity, we shall be
earlier and better informed than they concerning the events of their
own history.” This publication in Europe of Japanese history is not,
however, so much a singularity as M. Rémusat seems to suppose. The
letters of the Jesuit missionaries furnished contemporary details of
Japanese history extending over a period of more than seventy years,
and including the establishment of the present system of government,
far more full and authentic, we may well believe, than anything which
the Japanese themselves possess, and far exceeding anything contained
in this book of Titsingh’s whom M. Rémusat, perhaps in rather too
complimentary a spirit, places on a level with Kämpfer, and in advance
of Thunberg, as a contributor to our knowledge of Japan.
The memoirs of the Shōguns, made up of detached fragments, in
general very jejune, contain, however, a few anecdotes, which serve
to illustrate the ideas and manners of the Japanese. The Kubō-Sama
reigning in Kämpfer’s time is stated to have been stabbed, in 1709,
by his wife, a daughter of the Dairi, because, being childless, he
persisted in selecting as his successor a person very disagreeable to
all the princes—an act which causes her memory to be held in high honor.
One of the longest of these fragments relates to an alleged
conspiracy, in the year 1767, against the reigning Shōgun, for which
a number of persons suffered death. There is, also, an account of an
extensive volcanic eruption, which took place in September, 1783, in
the interior of the island of Nippon, in the province of Shinano,
northwest of Yedo and north of Ōsaka. The mountain Asama vomited
sand, ashes, and pumice-stones; the rivers flowing from it were
heated boiling-hot, and their dammed-up waters inundated the country.
Twenty-seven villages were swallowed up, and many people perished.
The councillor of state, Tanuma Yamashiro-no-Kami, was assassinated the
next year (1784), in the emperor’s palace; but of this event, and of
others connected with it, Titsingh gives a fuller explanation in his
Introduction to the Japanese “Marriage Ceremonies.” He there informs us
that “though many Japanese of the highest distinction, and intimately
acquainted with matters of government, still consider Japan as the
first empire of the world, and care but little for what passes out of
it, yet such persons are denominated by the more enlightened _I no uchi
no Kayeru_,—that is, ‘Frogs in a well,’—a metaphorical expression,
which signifies that when they look up they can see no more of the sky
than what the small circumference of the well allows them to perceive.”
Of this more enlightened party was the extraordinary councillor,
Matsudaira Tsu, who proposed, in 1769, the building of ships, and junks
suitable for foreign voyages; but this plan was put a stop to by his
death.
Tango-no-Kami, the governor of Nagasaki, one of this more liberal
party, with whom Titsingh, while director, kept up a secret
intercourse, proposed to him, in 1783, to bring carpenters from
Batavia, to instruct the Japanese in building vessels, especially
for the transport of copper from Ōsaki to Nagasaki, in which service
many Japanese vessels had been lost, with their cargoes; but this
Titsingh knew to be impossible, as skilful carpenters were too rare
at Batavia to be spared. He therefore proposed to take with him, on
his return to Batavia, a number of Japanese to be instructed there;
but the prohibition against any native leaving the country proved an
insurmountable obstacle. He then promised to have a model ship built at
Batavia, and conveyed to Nagasaki, which was done by himself, on his
last visit to Japan; but the assassination of Tanuma, above mentioned,
which had happened during his absence at Batavia, put an end to all
hopes that had been formed of a modification in the exclusive policy of
the Japanese.
This Tanuma (uncle of the Shōgun) was, according to Titsingh’s
account, a young man of uncommon merit and liberal ideas, and the
anti-frog-in-a-well party flattered themselves that, when he should
succeed his father, he would, as they expressed it, “widen the road.”
After his appointment as extraordinary councillor, he and his father
incurred, as Titsingh states, the hatred of the grandees of the court,
by introducing various innovations, which the “Frogs in a well”
censured as detrimental to the empire. It was to this feeling that his
assassination was ascribed, a crime which put an end to the hopes which
had begun to be entertained of seeing Japan opened to foreigners, and
of its inhabitants being allowed to visit other countries.
The appetite for foreign knowledge which Thunberg had noticed was also
observed by Titsingh. “During my residence in Japan,” so he writes in
the above-quoted Introduction, “several persons of quality, at Yedo,
Miyako, and Ōsaka, applied themselves assiduously to the acquisition of
the Dutch language and the reading of our books. The prince of Satsuma,
father-in-law of the present Shōgun, used our alphabet to express
in his letters what he wished a third person not to understand. The
surprising progress made by the prince of Tamba, by Katsuragawa Hozan,
physician to the Shōgun, and Nakagawa Junan, physician to the prince
of Wakasa,[73] and several others, enabled them to express themselves
more clearly than many Portuguese born and bred among us at Batavia.
Considering the short period of our residence [he means, apparently,
the stay of the Dutch embassy] at Yedo, such proficiency cannot but
excite astonishment and admiration. The privilege of corresponding with
the Japanese, above mentioned, and of sending them back their answers
corrected, without the letters being opened by the government, allowed
through the special favor of the worthy governor, Tango-no-Kami,
facilitated to them the learning of Dutch.”
In 1786, the reigning Shōgun, Iyeharu, died, and was succeeded
by an adopted son, Iyenari, who was his distant cousin, being a
great-grandson of his great-grandfather. This prince was married
to a daughter of the prince of Satsuma, and that is stated to have
been a principal reason for his adoption, it being the policy of the
Shōguns thus to secure the attachment of the most powerful princes.
The reigning family is thus allied to the princes of Kaga, Satsuma,
Yechizen, Nagato, and Ōshū, while the houses of Owari, Kishū, and Mito
are descended from the sons of Gongen, from among whom, in case of
failure of heirs, the Shōgun is selected. These princes of the first
class, notwithstanding the jealous supremacy of the emperors, still
retain certain privileges. According to Titsingh, they enjoy absolute
power in their own palaces, with the right of life and death over
their dependents; nor, in case they commit crimes, has the emperor
any authority to put them to death. He can only, with the Dairi’s
assistance, compel them to resign in favor of their sons.
In 1788, a terrible fire occurred at Miyako, by which almost the
entire city, including the palace of the Dairi, was destroyed. The
particulars of this event were communicated to Titsingh by his Japanese
correspondents.
Early in 1792, the summit of the Onsen-ga-Take (High mountain of warm
springs), in the province of Hizen, west of Shimabara, sank entirely
down. Torrents of boiling water issued from all parts of the deep
cavity thus formed, and a vapor arose like thick smoke. Three weeks
after, there was an eruption from a crater, about half a league from
the summit. The lava soon reached the foot of the mountain, and in a
few days the country was in flames for miles around. A month after, the
whole island of Kiūshiū was shaken by an earthquake, felt principally,
however, in the neighborhood of Shimabara. It reduced that part of the
province of Higo opposite Shimabara to a deplorable condition, and even
altered the whole outline of the coast, sinking many vessels which
lay in the harbors. This is the event of the latest date mentioned by
Titsingh. A plan of the eruption, furnished by one of his Japanese
correspondents, also one of the eruption in Shinano in 1783, is given
in the “Illustrations of Japan.”
The matter upon which Titsingh throws the most light is the marriage
and funeral ceremonies of the Japanese, as to which he gives a
translation, or rather an abridgment, of two Chinese works, received
as authority in Japan, as to the etiquette to be observed on these
occasions, at the same time noting the variations introduced by the
Japanese.
The system of Japanese manners, being based on that of the Chinese,
abounds in punctilios, and the higher the rank of the parties
concerned, the more these punctilios are multiplied. This applies to
marriages[74] as to other things. The treatise which Titsingh follows
relates only to the marriages of what we should call the middle class
(including merchants, artisans, etc.), who, though often possessed of
considerable wealth, hold in Japan much the same subordinate position
held prior to the French revolution by the corresponding class in
France.
With persons of high rank, marriages are made entirely from family
convenience; even with those of the middle class they are also much
based on prudential considerations. Formerly, the bridegroom never
saw the bride till she entered his house, which she does, preceded
by a woman bearing a lantern, which originally served the bridegroom
to catch his first glimpse of the bride, and, if he did not like her
looks, the match might be broken off, and the bride sent home. “Such
cases,” says Titsingh, “formerly occurred; but, at present, beauty is
held in much less estimation than fortune and high birth,—advantages to
which people would once have been ashamed to attach so much value, and
the custom has been by degrees entirely laid aside, on account of the
mortification which it must give to the bride. At present, when a young
man has any intention of marrying a female, whom he deems likely, from
the situation of her parents, to be a suitable match, he first seeks
to obtain a sight of her. If he likes her person, a mediator, selected
from among his married friends, is sent to negotiate a match. People of
quality have neither lantern nor mediator, because the parents affiance
the children in infancy, and marriage always follows. Should it so
happen that the husband dislikes the wife, he takes as many concubines
as he pleases. This is also the case among persons of the inferior
classes. The children are adopted by the wife, who is respected in
proportion to the number of which she is either the actual or nominal
mother.”
Formerly the bride was not allowed, in case of the bridegroom’s death
before the consummation of the nuptials, to marry again. A moving
story is told of a romantic Japanese young lady, who, being urged
by her friends to a second betrothal, to avoid such a sacrifice of
her delicacy, cut off her hair, and, when that would not answer, her
nose also. But this antique constancy has, in these latter depraved
times,—depraved in Japan as well as elsewhere,—entirely disappeared, as
well among the nobility as the common people.
The match having been agreed upon, the bridegroom’s father sends a
present—nothing is done in Japan without presents—to the bride’s
father. The bearer, accompanied by the mediator, delivers not only the
presents and a written list or invoice of them, but a complimentary
message also. For these presents a written receipt is given, and, three
days after, the bearer and those who attended him are complimented by
a counter present.
The following articles are then got ready at the bride’s house by the
way of outfit: A white wedding-dress, embroidered with gold or silver;
four other dresses, one with a red, a second with a black ground, one
plain white; a fourth plain yellow; a number of gowns, both lined
and single, and all the other requisites of a wardrobe, as girdles,
bathing-gowns, under robes, both fine and coarse, a thick-furred robe
for a bed-gown; a mattress to sleep on; bedclothes; pillows; gloves;
carpets; bed-curtains; a silk cap; a furred cotton cap; long and short
towels; a cloak; a covering for a norimono; a bag with a mixture of
bran, wheat, and dried herbs, to be used in washing the face; also
a bag of tooth-picks, some skeins of thin twine, made of twisted
paper, for tying up the hair; a small hand-mirror; a little box of
medicines; a small packet of the best columbac, for painting the lips;
several kinds of paper for doing up packages; also paper for writing
letters; a _koto_ (a kind of harp); a _samisen_ (a sort of guitar);
a small chest for holding paper; an inkhorn; a pin-cushion; several
sorts of needles; a box of combs; a mirror with its stand; a mixture
for blacking the teeth (the distinguishing mark of married women in
Japan, some blackening them the moment they are married, and others
when they become pregnant); curling-tongs for the hair; scissors; a
letter-case; a case of razors; several small boxes, varnished or made
of osier; dusters; a case of articles for dressing the hair; an iron
for smoothing linen; a large osier basket to hold the linen; a tub
with handles; a small dagger, with a white sheath, in a little bag
(thought to drive away evil spirits and to preserve from infectious
exhalations,—a quality ascribed also to the swords worn by the men);
complimentary cards, made of paper, variously colored, and gilt or
silvered at the ends, to tie round presents; _noshi_, a species
of edible sea-weed, of which small pieces are attached to every
congratulatory present; silk thread; a small tub to hold flax; several
slender bamboos, used in hanging out clothes to dry; circular fans;
common fans; fire-tureens; and—what certainly ought to form a part
of the bridal outfit of our city belles—a small bench for supporting
the elbows when the owner has nothing to do! Several books are also
added, poems and stories, moral precepts, a book on the duties of woman
in the married state, and another—the very one we are now giving an
abstract of—on the etiquette of the marriage ceremony. Two different
kinds of dressing-tables are also provided, containing many of the
above-mentioned articles; also a number of other housekeeping utensils.
When these things are ready, the mediator and his wife are invited to
the house of the bride’s father, and entertained there. A lucky day
is selected for sending the above-mentioned articles, accompanied by
a written list, to the bridegroom’s house. The mediator is present to
assist in receiving them, and a formal receipt is given, as well as
refreshments and presents to the bearers in proportion to the value of
the articles brought.
On the day fixed for the marriage, an intelligent female servant of the
second class[75] is sent to the house of the bride to attend her, and
the bride’s father, having invited all his kinsfolk, entertains them
previous to the bride’s departure.
The bridal party sets out in norimono, the mediator’s wife first,
then the bride, then the bride’s mother, and, finally, her father.
The mediator has already preceded them to the bridegroom’s house. The
bride is dressed in white (white being the color for mourning among the
Japanese), being considered as thenceforward dead to her parents.
If all the ceremonies are to be observed, there should be stationed,
at the right of the entrance to the house of the bridegroom, an old
woman, and on the left an old man, each with a mortar containing some
rice-cakes. As the bride’s norimono reaches the house, they begin to
pound their respective mortars, the man saying, “A thousand years!”
the woman, “Ten thousand!”—allusions to the reputed terms of life of
the crane and the tortoise thus invoked for the bride. As the norimono
passes between them, the man pours his cakes into the woman’s mortar,
and both pound together. What is thus pounded is moulded into two
cakes, which are put one upon another and receive a conspicuous place
in the toko[76] of the room where the marriage is to be celebrated.
[Illustration: A SCENE IN THE HOUSE OF A NOBLE
From _Official History of Japan_]
The norimono is met within the passage by the bridegroom, who stands
in his dress of ceremony ready to receive it. There is also a woman
seated there with a lantern, and several others behind her. It was, as
already mentioned, by the light of this lantern that formerly the
groom first saw his bride, and, if dissatisfied with her, exercised
his right of putting a stop to the ceremony. The bride, on seeing the
bridegroom, reaches to him, through the front window of her norimono,
her _mamori_,[77] and he hands it to a female servant who takes it into
the apartment prepared for the wedding and hangs it up. The bride is
also led to her apartment, the woman with the lantern preceding.
The marriage being now about to take place, the bride is led by one
of her waiting-women into the room where it is to be celebrated,
and is seated there with two female attendants on either side. The
bridegroom then leaves his room and comes into this apartment. No other
persons are present except the mediator and his wife. The formality
of the marriage consists in drinking sake after a particular manner.
The sake is poured out by two young girls, one of whom is called the
male butterfly, and the other the female butterfly,—appellations
derived from their _susu_, or sake-jugs, each of which is adorned
with a paper-butterfly. As these insects always fly about in pairs,
it is intended to intimate that so the husband and wife ought to be
continually together. The male butterfly always pours out the sake to
be drank, but, before doing so, turns a little to the left, when the
female butterfly pours from her jug a little sake into the jug of the
other, who then proceeds to pour out for the ceremony. For drinking it,
three bowls are used, placed on a tray or waiter, one within the other.
The bride takes the uppermost, holds it in both hands, while some sake
is poured into it, sips a little, three several times, and then hands
it to the groom. He drinks three times in like manner, puts the bowl
under the third, takes the second, hands it to be filled, drinks out
of it three times, and passes it to the bride. She drinks three times,
puts the second bowl under the first, takes the third, holds it to be
filled, drinks three times, and then hands it to the groom, who does
the same, and afterwards puts this bowl under the first. This ceremony
constitutes the marriage. The bride’s parents, who meanwhile were in
another room, being informed that this ceremony is over, come in, as do
the bridegroom’s parents and brothers, and seat themselves in a certain
order. The sake, with other refreshments interspersed, is then served,
by the two butterflies, to these relations of the married parties in a
prescribed order, indicated by the mediator; the two families, by this
ceremony, extending, as it were, to each other the alliance already
contracted between the bride and bridegroom.
Next follows the delivery of certain presents on the part of the bride
to the bridegroom, his relatives, and the servants of the household.
These are brought by a female, who arranges them in order in an
adjoining room, and hands written lists of them to the mediator, who
passes it to the bridegroom’s father, who, having received the paper,
returns thanks, then reads the lists aloud, and again returns thanks.
The bridegroom then presents the bride with two robes, one with a red
and the other with a black ground, embroidered with gold or silver. The
bride retires, puts on these robes, and again returns. Refreshments of
a peculiar kind then follow, the bride, to spare her bashfulness, being
suffered to eat in a room by herself.
This entertainment over, the parents of the bride prepare to leave
her. They are accompanied by those of the bridegroom, and by the bride
herself, to the door; the bridegroom with two servants bears candles,
shows the way, and takes leave with compliments.
Sometimes the bridegroom proceeds, that same night, with his parents
and the mediator, to the house of the bride’s father, where the
contracting of relationship by drinking sake is again gone through
with, the bride remaining behind in her husband’s house, where she is
meanwhile entertained by his brothers. On this occasion the father of
the bride presents his new son-in-law with a sabre. Presents are also
delivered on the part of the bridegroom to the bride’s relations.
The feasting over, the bridegroom and his parents return home, and are
received at the door by the bride.
In making the bed for the bride, her pillow is placed towards the north
(the practice followed with the dead, for she is thenceforward to be
considered as dead to her parents). Such is stated to have been the
ancient custom, though now generally disused.
The beds having been prepared, the bride is conducted to hers by one of
the women appointed to attend her, and the same person introduces the
bridegroom into the apartment. The young couple are waited on by the
male and female butterflies. One of the bride’s women sleeps secretly
in the adjoining chamber.
The bridal chamber is abundantly furnished with all the numerous
articles of the Japanese toilet, including a greater or less quantity,
according to their rank, of wearing apparel, hung on movable racks or
clothes-horses.
In families of the rank of the governors of Nagasaki the bride is
portioned with twelve robes, each upon a distinct horse; namely,
a blue robe, for the first month, embroidered with fir-trees or
bamboos; a sea-green robe for the second month, with cherry flowers
and buttercups; a robe of light red, for the third month, with willows
and cherry-trees; a robe of pearl color, for the fourth month,
embroidered with the cuckoo, and small spots representing islands; a
robe of faint yellow, for the fifth month, embroidered with waves and
sword-grass; a robe of bright orange, for the sixth month, embroidered
with melons and with an impetuous torrent,—the rainy season falling
in this and the previous month; a white robe, for the seventh month,
with _kikyō_ flowers, white and purple; a red robe, for the eighth
month, sprinkled with sloe-leaves; a violet robe, for the ninth month,
embroidered with flowers of the _Chrysanthemum indicum_ [_Kiku_], a
very splendid flower; an olive-colored robe, for the tenth month, with
representations of a road and ears of rice cut off; a black robe, for
the eleventh month, embroidered with emblems of ice and icicles; a
purple robe for the twelfth month, embroidered with emblems of snow.
Beyond some personal outfit of this sort, it is said not to be the
custom to portion daughters.
Next morning the young couple take a warm bath, and then breakfast
together. Soon after numerous presents come in, of which a careful
account is kept; the bride also receives visits of congratulation. The
day after, all the bridegroom’s people are treated with cakes in the
apartment of the bride; and rice-cake, put up in boxes, is sent to all
the near relations who did not attend the wedding.
After the expiration of three days the bride pays a visit to her
parents preceded by a present from her husband, one corresponding to
which is sent back when the bride returns. All the preceding ceremonies
over, the bride, accompanied by her mother-in-law, or some aged female
relative, pays a visit to all who have sent her presents, thanks them,
and offers a suitable return,—a supply of suitable presents for this
purpose having been provided for her before she left her father’s
house. Seven days after the wedding, the bridegroom and four or five of
his intimate friends are invited by the parents of the bride to a grand
entertainment. A few days after, the bridegroom invites the relatives
of the bride to a similar entertainment, and so the matrimonial
solemnities terminate.
The Japanese have two ways of disposing of the dead,—_dosō_, or
interment; _kwasō_, or burning,—and persons about to die generally
state which method they prefer.
Of the funeral ceremonies[78] observed at Nagasaki, Titsingh gives the
following account: The body, after being carefully washed by a favorite
servant, and the head shaved, is clothed according to the state of the
weather, and (if a female, in her best apparel) exactly as in life,
except that the sash is tied, not in a bow, but strongly fastened with
two knots, to indicate that it is never more to be loosed. The body is
then covered with a piece of linen, folded in a peculiar manner, and is
placed on a mat in the middle of the hall, the head to the north. Food
is offered to it, and all the family lament.
After being kept for forty-eight hours, the body is placed on its knees
in a tub-shaped coffin, which is enclosed in a square, oblong box,
or bier, the top of which is roof-shaped, called _kwan_. Two _ihai_
are also prepared,—wooden tablets of a peculiar shape and fashion,
containing inscriptions commemorative of the deceased, the time of his
decease, and the name given to him since that event.
The ihai and kwan, followed by the eldest son and the family, servants,
friends, and acquaintances, are borne in a procession, with flags,
lanterns, etc., to one of the neighboring temples, whence, after
certain ceremonies, in which the priests take a leading part, they are
carried, by the relatives only, to the grave, where a priest, while
waiting their arrival, repeats certain hymns. The moment they are come,
the tub containing the body is taken out of the kwan and deposited
in the grave, which is then filled with earth and covered with a
flat stone, which again is covered with earth, and over the whole is
placed the kwan and one of the ihai, which is removed at the end of
seven weeks, to make room for the _hiseki_,[79] or gravestone. If the
deceased had preferred to be burnt, the kwan is taken to the summit of
one of two neighboring mountains, on the top of each of which is a sort
of furnace, prepared for this purpose, enclosed in a small hut. The
coffin is then taken from the kwan, and, being placed in the furnace,
a great fire is kindled. The eldest son is provided with an earthen
urn, in which first the bones and then the ashes are put, after which
the mouth of the urn is sealed up. While the body is burning, a priest
recites hymns. The urn is then carried to the grave, and deposited in
it, and, the grave being filled up, the kwan is placed over it.
The eldest son and his brothers are dressed in white, in garments of
undyed hempen stuff, as are the bearers, and all females attending
the funeral, whether relatives or not; the others wear their usual
dresses. The females are carried in norimono, behind the male part of
the procession, which proceeds on foot, the nearest relatives coming
first. The eldest daughter takes precedence of the wife. The eldest son
and heir, whether by blood or adoption, who is the chief mourner, wears
also a broad-brimmed hat, of rushes, which hang about his shoulders,
and in this attire does not recognize nor salute anybody.
It is a remarkable circumstance that relatives in the ascending line
and seniors never attend the funerals of their junior kindred, nor go
into mourning for them. Thus, if the second son should die, neither
father, mother, uncle, aunt, elder brother, nor elder sister would
attend the funeral.
The laboring classes are not required to go into mourning; yet some of
them do for two, three, or four days. With them the burial takes place
after twenty-four hours. With the upper class the mourning is fixed at
fifty days. It used to be twice that time, but is said to have been cut
down by Iyeyasu (founder of the reigning dynasty), that the business of
the public functionaries might suffer the less interruption. Persons in
mourning stay at home, abstain from animal food of any description, and
from sake, and neither cut their nails nor shave their heads.
One of the ihai is left, as has been mentioned, at the grave; the
other, during the period of mourning, is set up in the best apartment
of the house of the deceased. Sweetmeats, fruit, and tea are placed
before it, and morning, noon, and night food is offered to it, served
up as to a living person. Two candles, fixed in candlesticks, burn by
it night and day, and a lighted lantern is hung up on either side.
The whole household, of both sexes, servants included, pray before it
morning and evening. This is kept up for seven weeks, and during each
week, from the day of the death, a priest attends and reads hymns for
an hour before the ihai. He is each time supplied with ornaments, and
paid a fee of from five to six mas.
During these seven weeks the son goes every day, be the weather what
it may, and says a prayer by the grave. He wears his rush hat, through
which he can see without being seen, speaks to nobody, and is dressed
in white. With this exception, and a ceremonious visit, in the third,
fourth, or fifth week, to the relatives and friends, he remains in his
house, with the door fastened. It is customary to erect a small hut
near the grave, in which a servant watches, noting down the names of
all who come to visit it.
When the seven weeks are over, the mourner shaves and dresses, opens
his door, and goes, if an officer, to inform the governor that his
days of mourning are over. He next pays a complimentary visit to all
who attended the funeral, or have visited the grave, sending them also
a complimentary present. The hiseki, or gravestone (almost precisely
like those in use with us), is placed over the grave, and two ihai,
varnished black and superbly gilt, are provided, one of which is sent
to a temple. The other remains at home, kept in a case in a small
apartment appropriated for that purpose, in which are kept the ihai of
all the ancestors of the family. It is customary every morning, after
rising and dressing, to take the ihai out of its case, and to burn a
little incense before it, bowing the head in token of respect.
[Illustration: A JAPANESE BED]
Though the wearing of white garments and other formalities of the
special mourning, called imi, cease at the end of fifty days at the
longest, bright colors are not to be worn, or a Shintō temple to be
entered, for thirteen months, and this is called _buku_. For a husband,
imi lasts thirty days and buku thirteen months; for a wife, imi twenty
days and buku three months; for grandparents and uncles, the periods
are thirty days and five months; for an eldest brother or sister, or
aunt on the father’s side, and great-grandparents, twenty days and
three months; for great-great-grandparents and aunts on the mother’s
side, fathers and mothers-in-law, brother-in-law or sister-in-law, or
eldest grandchild, ten days and one month; for other grandchildren,
and for cousins of either sex, and their children, three days and
seven days. For children under the age of seven years, whatever the
relationship, there is no mourning.
The great dignitaries must wear mourning for the Shōgun; all officers,
civil and military, for their princes; and whoever derives his
subsistence from another must mourn for him as for a father. Pupils
also must mourn for their teacher, education being esteemed equivalent
to a livelihood. The sons of a mother repudiated by her husband and
expelled from his house mourn for her as if dead.
In case of persons holding office, who die suddenly without previously
having resigned in favor of their heirs, it is not unusual to bury them
the night after their death, in a private manner. The death, though
whispered about, is not officially announced. The heir, who dresses
and acts as usual, notifies the authorities that his father is sick
and wishes to resign. Having obtained the succession, he soon after
announces his father’s death, and the formal funeral and mourning then
take place.
The honors paid to deceased parents do not terminate with the mourning.
Every month, on the day of the ancestor’s decease, for fifty, or even
for a hundred years, food, sweetmeats, and fruit are set before the
ihai. One hundred days after the decease of a father or mother, an
entertainment is to be given to all the intimate friends, including the
priest who presided at the funeral. This is to be repeated a year from
the death; and again on the third, seventh, thirteenth, twenty-fifth,
thirty-third, fiftieth, hundredth, and hundred and fiftieth
anniversary, and so on, as long as the family exists. To secure the
due payment to themselves of funeral honors, those who have no sons of
their own adopt one. If any accident, fortunate or disastrous, happens
to the family, it is formally communicated to the ihai, such as the
birth of a child, a safe return from a journey, etc. In case of floods
or fires, the ihai must be saved in preference to everything else,
their loss being regarded as the greatest of misfortunes.
The fifteenth day of the seventh Japanese month is a festival, devoted
to the honor of parents and ancestors. Every Japanese whose parents are
still living considers this a happy day. People regale themselves and
their children with fish. Married sons and daughters, or adopted sons,
send presents to their parents. On the evening of the 13th, the ihai
are taken from their cases, and a repast set before them of vegetables
and the fruits then ripening. In the middle is set a vase, in which
perfumes are burnt, and other vases containing flowers. The next day,
meals of rice, tea, and other food are regularly served to the ihai, as
to living guests.
Towards evening, lanterns, suspended from long bamboos, are lighted
before each hiseki, or gravestone, and refreshments are also placed
there. This is repeated on the fifteenth. Before daylight of the
sixteenth the articles placed at the graves are packed into small
boats of straw, provided with sails of paper or cloth, which are
earned in procession, with vocal and instrumental music and loud cries,
to the waterside, where they are launched, by way of dismissing the
souls of the dead, who are supposed now to return to their graves.
“This festival,” says Titsingh, speaking of its celebration at
Nagasaki, “produces a highly picturesque effect. Outside the town, the
view of it from the island Deshima is one of the most beautiful. The
spectator would almost imagine that he beheld a torrent of fire pouring
from the hill, owing to the immense number of small boats that are
carried to the shore to be turned adrift on the sea. In the middle of
the night, and when there is a brisk wind, the agitation of the water
causing all these lights to dance to and fro, produces an enchanting
scene. The noise and bustle in the town, the sound of gongs and the
voices of the priests, combine to form a discord that can scarcely be
conceived. The whole bay seems to be covered with _ignes fatui_. Though
these barks have sails of paper, or stronger stuff, very few of them
pass the place where our ships lie at anchor. In spite of the guards,
thousands of paupers rush into the water to secure the small copper
coin and other things placed in them. Next day, they strip the barks of
all that is left, and the tide carries them out to sea. Thus terminates
this ceremony.”[80]