FLOWERS, INDOORS AND OUT
"If one should inquire of you concerning the spirit of a true
Japanese, point to the wild cherry blossoms shining in the sun."
_The poet Motoori._
The Spell of Japan owes no small part of its potency to the abundant
flowers, which weave about the land an ever-changing veil of bright
colours and exquisite textures. First appear the fragrant plums,
earliest of the "One Hundred Flowers," and the freesias, and the
wonderful display of cherry blossoms in March and April, then the
wisteria and azalea, the iris and the peony, "the flower of
prosperity"--in China it is called "the queen of flowers"--in July the
lotus, and in the autumn the chrysanthemum, "the long-lasting plant." Of
all these the cherry and the chrysanthemum are the most famous.
The plum, an emblem of chastity, is enjoyed chiefly by the intellectual.
There is only a breath of flower on the gnarled stock, a mystery of
white or pink or red, which requires close study to find delight in the
manner in which the blossoms scatter irregularly on the beautiful,
twisting branches, silvery with lichen.
This charming little poem by Sosei refers to the plum as the herald of
spring:
"Amid the branches of the silv'ry bowers
The nightingale doth sing: perchance he knows
That spring hath come, and takes the later snows
For the white petals of the plum's sweet flowers."
The cherry, being gayer and more profuse, is more popular with the
people. It is called "the king of flowers," and especially represents
abundance and vitality. It is therefore a fitting symbol of the national
population. When the cherry is in blossom, the Japanese make excursions
to view particularly beautiful trees, and as they feast and float in
their pleasure boats, they enjoy even the fluttering petals, whether
seen in the bright sunlight or the pale moonbeams. So high an official
as a Prime Minister will take a day's journey for the sight of a cherry
tree in bloom.
A Japanese of the olden time has beautifully pictured the blossoming
cherry trees: "When in spring the trees flower, it is as if fleeciest
masses of cloud faintly tinged by sunset had floated down from the
highest sky to fold themselves about the branches."
The wisteria is an especial favourite with foreigners, no doubt for the
reason that we seldom see in America drooping clusters of such
length--the length of an umbrella, as the Japanese measure. It is
believed that this flower attains great size and beauty if the roots are
nourished with the rice wine of the country, and there is at Kameido a
tree producing unusually fine blossoms, at the base of which visitors
are accustomed to empty their wine cups.
Every one is familiar with the beautiful and varied colours of the
Japanese iris, as the bulbs are shipped to all parts of the world. The
peony often measures nine inches across, and some of the tree peonies
have petals of a lovely silky sheen and texture. It is sometimes called
"the plant of twenty days," because it is said to keep fresh for that
length of time. In art, it forms a constant decoration on temple and
palace walls, and it is supposed, like the lotus, to have medicinal
properties.
The lotus is not used for festivities or rejoicing in Japan, but for
sacred ceremonies and funerals. As it is a Buddhist flower, and as
Buddhism started in India, it is sometimes called the national flower of
India. It grows wonderfully, however, on the castle moats in Tokyo.
In its season the chrysanthemum pervades the country. It blossoms in
every garden, it grows by the roadside, and it stands in every tiny
shop. Each loyal son of Dai Nippon has a flower upon which he may rest
his eye and with which he may delight his artistic and patriotic sense.
The sixteen-petalled flower is the crest of the Emperor, and no one else
is allowed to use that as a design, although the blossom is often
reproduced in decoration with fewer petals. The people go on pilgrimages
in order to gaze with semi-religious awe upon "the long-lasting plant";
the Emperor gives a chrysanthemum party; and the season of this most
decorative of flowers is made one of general rejoicing.
The chrysanthemum has been cultivated in China for more than two
thousand years, says Dr. Bryan in the _Japan Magazine_, and there is
evidence of its being cherished in Egypt a thousand years before it is
mentioned in China. Whether it came from Egypt to China, or vice versa,
it is impossible now to determine, but the Chinese like to regard it as
a product of the Far East. Confucius mentions it in 500 B.C., under the
name of _liki_. From China it was brought to Japan, where it has reached
its highest development.
What the lotus was to Egypt, the fleur-de-lys to France, and the Tudor
rose to England, the chrysanthemum is to Japan. The flower is single,
yet many. It is a unity in variety, and a variety springing from one
undivided centre. The Japanese call it "binding flower," for just as its
petals bind themselves together on the surface, so the Emperor and the
people are forever bound together in indissoluble union. It was probably
chosen as the most natural and artistic emblem of the sun, but both this
and the cherry blossom, like the Emperor and his people, are considered
children of that luminary, whose orb resplendent stands for the country
as a whole. Many a maiden of Japan is named after "the binding flower,"
and its use is very typical of Japanese art and life.
[Illustration:_A Japanese Flower Man_]
At one chrysanthemum show we saw nine hundred blossoms on a single
plant, and the flowers were arranged to form figures of warriors and
ladies of long ago, from the fairy tales of Old Japan. At Dango-zaka, a
place of professional gardens, an exhibition is held each year, for
which visitors are charged two _sen_[10] a peep. Here we saw wonderful
figures made of flowers--one of an elephant and his rider being
thirty-six feet high. In the grottoes and rockeries of the garden were
other life-like figures. It was a sort of "Madame Tussaud's" with the
characters in flowers instead of wax. On revolving stages were rocks and
mountains, horses and men in all sorts of attitudes, brilliant, curious
and interesting--all made of flowers. One scene represented Commodore
Perry's reception by the Shogun.
[10] A _sen_ is three-fourths of a cent.
The Imperial Chrysanthemum Party has been in vogue at the Japanese Court
since 1682.[11] Formerly, as the guests came before the Emperor, a vase
of lovely blossoms, to which was attached a bag of frankincense and
myrrh, was placed in front of His Majesty, and cups of _saké_ with the
petals floating in them were handed around. In the annals of China we
read the explanation of this custom:
[11] For this description, also, I am largely indebted to the
writings of Dr. Bryan.
There was once upon a time, as the story goes, a man who was warned of
an impending calamity, which could be warded off, he was told, by
attaching a bag of myrrh to his elbow and ascending a certain hill,
where he was to drink _saké_ with the petals of the chrysanthemum
floating in it. The man did as was suggested, but on returning home he
found all his domestic animals dead. When he informed his teacher that
the plan had not worked, the former replied that the calamity was to
have come upon his family, and that by acting upon the warning he had
averted it, throwing the vengeance on the animals instead.
The Emperor's Chrysanthemum Party is now conducted in a somewhat
different manner from that of the olden time. It is held in the flower
palace of the Imperial garden at Akasaka. Upon the arrival of the
Emperor and his suite at the main gate, the Japanese national anthem
begins, and the guests, who are already in their places, line the
pathway on either side, bowing as Their Majesties, the Emperor and
Empress, and the princes of the blood, file past. Then the guests fall
into line after the Imperial party and follow to the place where the
feast is prepared.
The Emperor takes his place on the dais at the head of the marquee, and
receives all the representatives of foreign countries and some of the
higher officials of the Empire. As each diplomat appears in the Mikado's
presence he bows three times, and his felicitations are translated into
Japanese by an interpreter who stands near His Majesty. The Empress is
seated on a dais slightly lower but very near, and all who approach the
Emperor bow also to the Empress. This function over, the Emperor sips a
glass of wine, which is the signal for the feast to commence. As soon as
the feasting is ended the band strikes up, and His Majesty begins to
prepare for his departure. The guests again line up, and bow in farewell
as the Imperial procession files out, then they enjoy the view of the
superb chrysanthemums.
The Imperial Cherry Blossom Party in the spring is held in the same
garden at Akasaka, and is conducted in much the same way, an elaborate
feast being laid in a great marquee. The palace in these grounds
originally belonged to Prince Kishu, but after the burning of the
Emperor's palace in 1873 this one was used as a temporary abode of the
Imperial family, and was afterward the residence of the Crown Prince,
now Emperor.
In the province of Kai there is a hill called Chrysanthemum Mount,
overhanging a river into which the petals fall. It is believed that long
life is assured by drinking the water. Among the people the custom also
survives of placing small blossoms or petals in the cup during the
wine-drinking that takes place at the festival on the ninth day of the
ninth month.
The Japanese fondness for flowers is not bestowed chiefly on the rare
and costly varieties produced by the florist's skill, but is lavished
upon the familiar blossoms of every day. Love of nature is shown in
their pilgrimages for seeing flowers, picking mushrooms, gathering
shells, and even for viewing the moon, which form their favourite
holiday excursions. One of the prettiest conceits of the Japanese
imagination is that which regards the snowflakes as the flowers of
winter, and has added snow-viewing to the list of flower-festivals.
Parties are even formed to rise at dawn and go out to see the
morning-glories open. I can testify, too, from my own experience that
they are well rewarded, for Japanese morning-glories are worth seeing.
One day when our train was delayed at a village, the station master
invited us to view the morning-glories in his tiny garden, about twenty
feet square. The colours were so beautiful that they were really a feast
for the eyes. Some were pale in tint, some brilliant, and some had
crinkled flowers and leaves.
Among the Japanese popular names for plants are some interesting ones.
The tufted grass that grows on the hillsides has the delightful name of
"lion's moustache." The barberry, which grows wild in Japan as it does
here, is popularly styled "snake-can't-climb-up," on account of its
thorns, the idea being that the snake wants the berries, but the thorns
keep him off. The little pachysandra, sometimes used here for borders in
gardens, bears the high-sounding title of "noble plant." We are
surprised at this until we discover that it is very hardy, adapts itself
to any surroundings, and blossoms under the unfavourable conditions of
early spring. Because of these qualities, rather than for anything
striking in its outward appearance, it is called noble. It is also a
symbol of good luck, perhaps in recognition of the fact that a person's
good fortune comes chiefly from his hardihood, adaptability and power to
overcome obstacles.
On one of our visits to Japan we imitated the fashion of the country and
made pilgrimages to view the lotus, which was in full bloom in July, its
pink and white blossoms almost covering the waters of the ponds. Again
in the autumn, we went on excursions to enjoy the charming colours of
the maples. Often we took jinrikishas and went to an inn by a rippling
brook, where we spent the day, eating the native food with chopsticks
from little lacquer trays, and looking out from the balcony of polished
wood upon the bright, sharp-pointed leaves dancing in the sunshine.
At the various festival seasons of the year, different flowers and
plants are used, either alone or in combination with others. For
instance, the pine and the bamboo appear among New Year decorations; the
iris is the flower of the Boys' Festival; fruits and berries are used on
the first day of the eighth month. Such occasions as the coming of age
of a young man, a promotion in rank, farewell gatherings, death
anniversaries, poetry meetings, tea ceremonials and incense burnings,
all are adorned by their appropriate flowers.
Japanese flower arrangement differs fundamentally from that of the West,
and includes much more than the mere massing of a cluster of blossoms of
beautiful colour and texture, set off by a sufficient number of leaves
of some kind. _Ike-bana_, as they call their art, considers the flower
as a mere detail and of little beauty apart from its proper place on the
stem. In addition to grace and beauty of line and an entire absence of
crowding, it requires the expression of the thought that what you have
before you is not simply cut flowers but a growing plant--which must
always have an uneven number of branches. Buds and even withered leaves
are used as well as flowers, in order to suggest the natural mode of
growth. By keeping the stems together for a few inches at the base a
strong plant is indicated, springing from the surface of the water,
which is supposed to represent the surface of the earth.
[Illustration: _IKE-BANA_ OR FLOWER ARRANGEMENT.]
As we learn the rules of _Ike-bana_, we do not wonder that it has been
the study and diversion of philosophers, generals and priests. The three
branches with which the arrangement starts are named Heaven, Man and
Earth. Heaven, the longest branch, must be one and one-half times the
height of the vase and must stand in the centre of the cluster. Man
should be one-half the length of Heaven, and Earth one-half as long as
Man. These sprays are bent into the desired curves before they are
placed in the vase. Finally, but with great care, every leaf or flower
that hides another must be ruthlessly cut off.
By the use of special flowers and the varying disposition of the sprays
the season of the year or the particular occasion for which the
arrangement is designed may be indicated. For example, unusual curves of
the branches suggest the high winds of March; white flowers are used at
a housewarming, or they signify water to put out a fire; evergreens or
chrysanthemums are used when a youth comes into his property, to express
the wish that he may long keep his possessions.
Following out the Buddhist idea of preserving life as long as possible,
the Japanese make their vases with a wide mouth, so that the water they
contain may be exposed to the air. This makes it necessary to support
the branches, and various kinds of holders have been devised for this
purpose. Both vases and holders are made of basket-work, porcelain,
bronze and bamboo, and according to their shape they are called by such
names as "Singing Mouth," "Crane Neck," and "Rampant Lion." Hanging
baskets in the form of boats, too, are popular, and receive names like
"Cloud Boat" and "Dragon-head Boat." In summer low, shallow vases are
used, which suggest coolness by the extent of water surface exposed.
According to the law of _Ike-bana_, vases should be nine-tenths filled
with water in spring and autumn, in hot weather they must be brimful, in
winter only four-fifths full, and even less in very cold weather.
Pebbles may cover the bottom of the vase in imitation of a river-bed,
both white and black ones being used. An effective arrangement is to
place three large stones on top of the small ones--quite a high rock to
represent a mountain, a second flat one, and a third between the others
in height.
The Japanese love to decorate their houses with flowers, but we might
say on entering, Where are they? Why, in the most honoured place of all!
On the raised platform of the alcove, perhaps beside the image of some
god, stands a large vase with a few carefully arranged branches of
flowers, or maybe of leaves alone. These are enough. You feel no need of
anything more.
The table decorations made for Europeans are especially interesting.
They are often placed directly on the tablecloth. One that we saw
contained a conventionalized Fuji in evergreen needles, like a flat
print, overhung with cotton wool to imitate clouds. Sometimes miniature
landscapes are formed in a box, for anything tiny delights the Japanese,
and they spend whole days arranging such things. The Inland Sea is often
represented in blue and white sand, with real earth for the shores and
the islands, while small pine branches are introduced to look like
twisted trees. Boats and fishes are put in the blue sand, and small
temples set up on the shore. As every imaginable toy is made by the
Japanese, the scene can be varied according to the taste of the
designer--I have even seen tiny European ladies imitated, and railway
trains and telegraph poles introduced.
[Illustration: "THE TABLE DECORATIONS ... ARE ESPECIALLY INTERESTING"]
In the miniature landscapes which Watanabe devised for us he used
dwarfed trees in almost every instance, and imitated water and
waterfalls with sands of different colours. For the Fuji of these
pictures he sometimes used one of those oddly shaped pebbles that abound
in Japan.
On Washington's Birthday Watanabe surpassed himself in this sort of
decoration. He represented Washington City by a diminutive Capitol and
White House and Washington Monument, set in a park-like arrangement of
gravel drives and avenues of tiny trees. Among these appeared absurd
little equestrian monuments and decorative detail of various kinds. As
he had never been in America we asked him how he had pictured it so
correctly. He answered that he found a photograph of the Capitol in a
book, and took it to a friend, who made models of the buildings for him.
He also had arranged a large cherry tree (which, because it had
artificial flowers, appeared to be in full bloom), into which the
proverbial hatchet was stuck.
The Japanese art of landscape gardening arose from their fondness for
nature, which led them to reproduce in miniature the scenery visible
from their homes. No doubt Chinese influence had its effect upon this
art, as upon many others, through the medium of the Buddhist priesthood.
Among the earliest examples of landscape gardening were the temple
groves of Nara. From the twelfth to the fourteenth centuries gardens
took on a freer form, more like that of the present time, but the
dried-up water scenery was used, showing the hollow of a lake dry, as if
in time of drought, sometimes combined with the bare mountain. In the
fifteenth century, when the tea ceremony was introduced, a special form
of garden was devoted to its use, while at the same time the art of
flower arrangement flourished. Soami, about 1480, and Enshiu, a hundred
years later, are among the best known landscape artists. "The Rocky
Ocean," "The Wide River," "The Mountain Torrent," and "The Lake Wave"
are fanciful names given to different styles of gardening.
A Japanese garden is generally enclosed by a bamboo paling, often in
some pretty design, which may surround the house as well. There should
be one high point in the garden, which dominates the whole, and it may
contain a miniature mountain, dwarf trees, stones, and a tea-house with
a gateway at the entrance. If possible, there should be water with a
bridge over it, and a cascade to bring luck.
From the varying arrangement of these features, we find hill gardens,
flat gardens, finished, intermediary or rough gardens. On our place in
Brookline, Massachusetts, we have a Japanese hill garden. The flat
effect is especially popular in Japan, with its gravel walks and stone
lanterns in different sizes and designs; but whichever style is chosen,
it must be so planned as to present its best appearance from the house.
No garden is complete without one or more lanterns, which are placed, if
possible, by the water, that their light may be reflected in the pond.
The stone basins for washing the hands vary in style, and so, too, do
the gateways; these sometimes have thatched roofs, which provide
shelter, and can be made very attractive. There are twisted dwarf trees
here and there, of course, and variously shaped stepping-stones set in
regular order along the narrow paths. Low bridges, usually without
railings, cross the tiny pond, in which there are often double-tailed
goldfish and carp which rise to the surface when you clap your hands.
Some enclosures even contain gaily coloured pheasants, ducks and storks.
[Illustration: _A Japanese Garden, Tokyo_]
Curiously shaped stones are carefully selected for the garden, each one
having a name and a meaning attached to it. Standing upright in the
centre should be the high "guardian stone." You may look for the
"worshipping stone" in the foreground or on an island; you will find the
"perfect view" on the hillside or in some prominent place; you discover
the "water-tray stone" on the pond shore, and the "shadow stone" in the
valley between two hills. Next to the "worshipping stone" is the "seat
of honour," which is flat and horizontal. The "snail" is the most
important stepping-stone.
Trees as well as stones have rank in the miniature landscape. The
principal tree is the largest, and is as a rule either a pine or an oak.
One in a secluded corner with thick foliage to afford shade is called
the "tree of solitude." The "perfection tree" should have fine branches.
Around the waterfall is planted the "cascade circuit," consisting of low
bushes; and in the background is the "setting-sun tree," which is turned
westward in order to screen the garden somewhat from the rays of the
sun, and is often a maple that will light up the place with its own glow
in the autumn.
In the literature of gardens we read of male and female cascades and
rocks--just as of male and female styles of flower arrangement--the big
one being the male, the smaller one near-by the female. The flowering
tree is also considered a male, the plant in the same pot a female.
The dwarf trees, that looked so strange when we first saw them, soon
became to us one of the delightful features of gardening in Japan.
These, as well as the gardens themselves, originated in the love of
nature, the Japanese wishing to have about them reduced copies of trees
which they admired. As the demand for these pigmies has greatly
increased in recent years and the process of dwarfing is slow, Japanese
florists have discovered a way of making them by a speedier method. When
they find old, stunted trees that have taken on unusual shapes--those
that have become gnarled and twisted by growing among rocks are
especially good for this purpose--they cut them back very closely, root
and branch, then leave them to grow for a time in the soil. After this
they take up the plants carefully without disturbing the earth
immediately about the roots, and place them in pots. Trees even one
hundred years old have been successfully treated in this way.
But this is not "real dwarfing," which was described to me by my
Japanese gardener. For this process, if you wish to keep the tree very
small, it is raised from seed sown in a pot. After the seedling has made
the growth of the first year, it is taken up, and the earth is carefully
shaken off the roots and replaced with soil adapted to the special needs
of the tree, which is allowed to grow for two or three years. Then it is
time to begin trimming it into shape, and here the same symbolic
arrangement is followed as in _Ike-bana_, based upon the three main
branches, Heaven, Man and Earth. Root-pruning must also be started after
the growing season is over, and the larger roots cut away, leaving only
the finer ones. If the branches run out too far in one direction, their
growth is stopped by cutting off the roots on that side. A tree that is
to be kept very small is not repotted until the roots have filled the
pot; one that is to make a larger growth is transferred at an earlier
date. By scraping off the top of the soil occasionally and putting on
fresh earth repotting may be postponed for eight or ten years according
to the kind of tree.
Dwarf maples from seed are ready for sale in two or three years;
seedling pines require from five to ten years to fit them for the
market, and plums four or five years. Lately, however, it has become the
custom to graft the plum, cutting back the tree until only a contorted
old stump is left, and grafting upon this. We had two such trees at the
Embassy, which were simply old stumps filled with plum blossoms, one
cluster pink and the other white, diffusing their perfume all over the
house. They were very beautiful with a plain gold screen for a
background.
All kinds of evergreens, oaks and maples, the plum and some other
flowering trees, bamboos and every sort of flowering shrub, and some
vines, such as the wisteria and the morning glory, are all used for
dwarfing. Plants having thorns are never treated in this way, neither
are they used in the decoration of shrines nor in real Japanese flower
arrangement. For this reason the large, fine roses in which we take such
delight, had never been cultivated in Japan until perhaps forty years
ago, when the first one was brought from Holland, and the method of
cultivation was also borrowed from the Dutch.
In gardens, these diminutive trees are carefully shaded from the rays of
the afternoon sun, and special pains are taken to keep them well
watered. When the temperature is above ninety degrees, they are watered
three times a day--at eleven in the morning, and at two and five in the
afternoon. If they are used as house plants, the care of them is a
dignified occupation, in which even nobles and princes may engage in
their own homes. As the use of ordinary fertilizers might be
disagreeable to these exalted personages on account of their bad odour,
a pleasant and economical way has been found of supplying the small
quantity of nourishment needed from eggs. After an egg has been broken
and the yolk and the white removed, the shell, with the small amount of
albumen that adheres to it, is taken in the hand and the broken edge
touched here and there to the soil of the pot, leaving on each spot a
tiny drop of white of egg. This process, repeated from day to day,
furnishes the little tree with all the nutriment it requires. Milk is
also sometimes fed to these plants by the Japanese, who have discovered
that it gives brighter colours to the flowers.
We visited a charming exposition of pigmy trees in Shiba. Many gentlemen
of Tokyo had sent their tiny plants and miniature vases, _hibachi_,
lacquers, books and jades to decorate the doll-house rooms. These
playthings are in many cases of great antiquity and value, and lovely in
quality and colour; as much pains and taste are required to arrange
these little expositions as to decorate the large rooms of a palace. On
account of our visit the gardener had taken particular trouble, and he
showed us all the fairy articles with loving hands and words. There were
microscopic trees an inch high and landscapes two inches long, which
were a real delight, so exquisite were they. Such trees are really works
of art, and some of them indeed as valuable as gems. About us, in pots
of beautiful form and colour, were the dwarf trees of fantastic
shape--stunted plum in fragrant bloom, white and pink, and gnarled trees
hundreds of years old with blossoming branches springing out of
seemingly dead trunks.
The Arsenal Gardens in Tokyo are said to have been formerly the most
wonderful in the country. Koraku-en, their Japanese name--literally
translated, "past pleasant recalling,"--probably means "full of pleasant
remembrances." They were designed some three hundred years ago with the
object of reproducing in miniature many of the most renowned scenes in
the Island Empire. In front of the pavilion, however, is a lake which is
copied from a noted one in China called Soi-ko. Beyond the lake rises a
wooded hill, on which stands a small, beautifully carved replica of the
famous temple Kiyomisu at Kyoto. Lower down the hill is a little stream
spanned by an accurate copy of the well-known bridge at Nikko; further
on is the shrine of Haky-i and Shiky-sei, the loyal brothers of Chinese
legend. An arched stone bridge leads to still another shrine, and from
this a path through a thicket of creepers conducts to a lake covered
with lotus and fed by a stream which forms a lovely cascade. Another
path crosses little mountains through thick foliage of bamboo and pine,
passes the artificial sea with its treasure island in the centre, and
leads over bridges, by waterfalls and around temples.
In these gardens the Japanese most perfectly realized their desire to
transfer the features of a natural landscape to their immediate
surroundings; here were magnificent trees of great size, lakes and
streams and mountains in miniature, and a wide jungle of grass and
bamboo. Through the noise and dust and dilapidation due to the
encroachments of the Arsenal workshops, one can still catch a glimpse of
the underlying plan and imagine the ancient beauties of Koraku-en.