CHAPTER II.

Upon landing at Honolulu we find ourselves in a city of some twenty

thousand inhabitants, presenting all the modern belongings of a

metropolis of the nineteenth century, such as schools, churches,

hospitals, charitable institutions, gas, electric lights, and the

telephone. Nearly all of the rising generation can read and write, and

the entire population are professed Christians. Great is the contrast in

every respect between these islands as discovered by Captain Cook in

1778, and their present condition. Originally they exhibited the same

barbarous characteristics which were found to exist in other islands of

the Pacific Ocean. They had no sense of domestic virtue, and were

victims of the most egregious superstitions. "The requisitions of their

idolatry," says the historian Ellis, "were severe, and its rites cruel

and bloody." Their idolatry has been abandoned since 1819. In the early

days the several islands of the group had each a separate king, and wars

were frequent between them, until King Kamehameha finally subjected them

all to his sway, and formed the government which has lasted to the

present time.

Many of the streets of Honolulu afford a grateful shade, the sidewalks

being lined by ornamental trees, of which the cocoanut, palm,

bread-fruit, candle-nut, and some others, are indigenous, but many have

been introduced from abroad and have become domesticated. The tall

mango-tree, with rich, glossy leaves, the branches bending under the

weight of its delicious fruit, is seen growing everywhere, though it is

not a native of these islands. Among other fruit-trees we observe the

feathery tamarind, orange, lime, alligator-pear, citron-fig, date, and

rose apple. Of all the flowering trees, the most conspicuous and

attractive is one which bears a cloud of brilliant scarlet blossoms,

each cluster ball-shaped and as large as a Florida orange. Some of the

thoroughfares are lined by pretty, low-built cottages, standing a few

rods back from the roadway, with broad, inviting verandas, the whole

festooned and nearly hidden by tropical and semi-tropical plants in full

bloom. If we drive out to the race-course in the environs, we shall be

pretty sure to see King Kalakaua, who is very fond of this sort of

sport. He is a man of intelligence and of considerable culture, but

whose personal habits are of a low and disgraceful character. He has

reached his fifty-second year.

It will be observed that the women ride man-fashion here,--that is,

astride of their horses,--and there is a good reason for this. Even

European and American ladies who become residents also adopt this mode

of riding, because side-saddles are not considered to be safe on the

steep mountain roads. If one rides in any direction here, mountains must

be crossed. The native women deck themselves in an extraordinary manner

with flowers on all gala occasions, while the men wear wreaths of the

same about their straw hats, often adding braids of laurel leaves across

the shoulders and chest. The white blossoms of the jasmine, fragrant as

tuberoses, which they much resemble, are generally employed for this

decorative purpose. As a people the Hawaiians are very courteous and

respectful, rarely failing to greet all passing strangers with a softly

articulated "alo-ha," which signifies "my love to you."

A drive up the Nuuanu valley, which opens with a broad entrance near the

city, introduces us to some grand scenery. In ascending this beautiful

valley one is constantly charmed by the discovery of new tropical trees,

luxurious creepers and lovely wild-flowers. The strangers' burial-ground

is passed just after crossing the Nuuanu stream, and close at hand is

the Royal Mausoleum,--a stone structure in Gothic style, which contains

the remains of the Hawaiian kings, as well as those of many of the high

chiefs who have died since the conquest. Some shaded bathing-pools are

formed by the mountain streams, lying half hidden in the dense foliage.

Here we pass the residence of the late Queen Emma, pleasantly located

and flower-embowered. This valley is classic ground in the history of

these islands, being the spot where the fierce and conquering invader,

King Kamehameha I., fought his last decisive battle, the result of which

confirmed him as sole monarch of the Hawaiian group. Here the natives of

Oahu made their final stand and fought desperately, resisting with clubs

and spears the savage hordes led by Kamehameha. But they were defeated

at last, and with their king Kaiana, who led them in person, were all

driven over the abrupt and fatal cliff fifteen hundred feet high,

situated at the upper end of the valley.

In the environs of the city one passes upon the roadsides large patches

measuring an acre or more of submerged land, where is grown the Hawaiian

staff of life,--the _taro_, a root which is cultivated in mud and mostly

under water, recalling the rice-fields of China and Japan. The vegetable

thus produced, when baked and pounded to a flour, forms a nutritious

sort of dough called _poi_, which constitutes the principal article of

food for the natives, as potatoes do with the Irish or macaroni with the

Italians. This poi is eaten both cooked and in a raw state mixed with

water.

[Illustration: HAWAIIANS EATING POI.]

Though Oahu is quite mountainous, like the rest of the islands which

form the Hawaiian group, still none of these reach the elevation of

perpetual snow. The six inhabited islands of the group are Kauai, Oahu,

Molokai, Lanai, Maui, and Hawaii, the last containing the largest active

volcano of which we have any knowledge; namely, that of Kilauea, to

visit which persons cross the Atlantic and Pacific oceans, and also the

American continent, between the two. Honolulu was chosen for the capital

because it forms the best and almost the only harbor worthy of the name

to be found among these islands. In the olden times Lahaina, on the

island of Maui, was the city of the king, and the recognized capital in

the palmy days of the whale fishery. This settlement is now going to

ruin, tumbling to pieces by wear and tear of the elements, forming a

rude picture of decay. Should the Panama Canal be completed, it would

prove to be of great advantage to these islands, as they lie in the

direct course which a great share of navigation must follow. The

aggregate population of the group is now about sixty thousand, of whom

some thirty-eight thousand are natives. History tells us that Captain

Cook estimated these islands to contain over three hundred thousand

inhabitants when he discovered them. Perhaps this was an exaggeration,

though it is a fact that they are capable of sustaining a population of

even much greater density than this estimate would indicate.

The ubiquitous Chinamen are found here as gardeners, laborers,

house-servants, fruit-dealers, and poi-makers. What an overflow there

has been of these Asiatics from the "Flowery Land!" Each one of the race

arriving at the Sandwich Islands is now obliged to pay ten dollars as

his landing fee, in default of which the vessel which brings him is

compelled to take him away. This singular people, who are wonderfully

industrious, notwithstanding their many faults, are equally disliked in

these islands by the natives, the Americans, and the Europeans; yet the

Chinamen steadily increase in numbers, and it is believed here that they

are destined eventually to take the place of the aborigines. The

aggregate number now to be found in the group is over twelve thousand.

It is evident that many branches of small trade are already monopolized

by them, as is the case at Penang, Singapore, and other Pacific islands.

On Nuuanu Street every shop is occupied by a Chinaman, dealing in such

articles as his own countrymen and the natives are likely to purchase.

It does certainly appear as though the aboriginal race would in the near

future be obliterated, and their place filled by the Anglo-Saxons and

the Chinese, the representative people of the East and the West. The

taro-patches of the Hawaiians will doubtless ere long become the

rice-fields of the Mongolians.

In the year 1887 there was raised upon these islands a very large amount

of sugar, over one hundred thousand tons in all. The entire product,

except what was consumed for domestic use, was shipped to this country.

Three-quarters of the money invested in sugar-raising here is furnished

by American capitalists, and American managers carry on the plantations.

A reciprocity treaty between the Sandwich Islands and this country

(that is, a national agreement upon matters of mutual interest), and

their proximity to the shores of America, have brought this people

virtually under the wing of our Government, concentrating their foreign

trade almost entirely in the United States, while the youth of the

islands, of both sexes, are sent hither for educational purposes. There

is no other foreign port in the world where the American flag is so

often seen, or more respected than in that of Honolulu.

The Hawaiian Islands are not on the direct route to Japan, and we

therefore find it better to return to San Francisco and embark from

there, than to await the arrival of a chance steamer bound westward. Our

course is not in the track of general commerce, and neither ship nor

shore is encountered while crossing this vast expanse of water. Storms

and calms alternate; sometimes the ocean is as smooth as an inland lake,

and at others in its unrest it tossed our iron hull about as though it

were a mere skiff, in place of a ship of three thousand tons'

measurement. The roughness of the water is exhibited near the coast and

in narrow seas by short, chopping waves; but in the open ocean these are

changed to long, heavy swells, covering the expanse of waters with vast

parallels separated by deep valleys, the distance from crest to crest

being from one hundred and fifty to two hundred feet during a heavy

gale. The height of the waves is measured from the trough to the crest,

and is of course conjecture only, but in heavy weather it may safely be

set down at thirty feet.

Every steamship on the trip westward carries more or less Chinamen, who,

having acquired a certain sum of money by industry and self-denial, are

glad to return to their native land and live upon its income. Interest

is very high in China, and money is scarce. It is curious to watch

these second-class passengers. In fine weather they crowd the forward

deck, squatting upon their hams in picturesque groups, and playing cards

or dominos for small stakes of money. The Chinese are inveterate

gamblers, but are satisfied generally to play for very small stakes.

When the sea becomes rough and a storm rages, they exhibit great

timidity, giving up all attempts at amusement. On such occasions, with

sober faces and trembling hands, they prepare pieces of joss-paper

(scraps with magic words), bearing Chinese letters, and cast them

overboard to propitiate the anger of the special god who controls the

sea. The dense, noxious smell which always permeates their quarters, in

spite of enforced ventilation and the rules of the ship, is often wafted

unpleasantly to our own part of the vessel, telling a significant story

of the opium pipe, and a certain uncleanliness of person peculiar to

Africans and Mongolians.

After a three weeks' voyage we reach Yokohama, the commercial capital of

Japan. When Commodore Perry opened this port in 1854 with a fleet of

American men-of-war, it was scarcely more than a fishing village, but it

has now a population of a hundred and thirty thousand, with well-built

streets of dwelling-houses, the thoroughfares broad and clean, and all

macadamized. The town extends along the level shore, but is backed by a

half-moon of low, wooded hills, known as the Bluff, among which are the

dwellings of the foreign residents, built after the European and

American style. A deep, broad canal surrounds the city, passing by the

large warehouses, and connected with the bay at each end, being crossed

by several handsome bridges. If we ascend the road leading to the Bluff

we have a most charming and extended view. In the west, seventy miles

away, the white, cloud-like cone of Fujiyama, a large volcanic mountain

of Japan, can clearly be discerned, while all about us lie the pretty

villas of the foreign settlers.

[Illustration: MODE OF TRAVELLING IN JAPAN. A JINRIKSHA.]

In looking about this commercial capital everything strikes us as

curious; every new sight is a revelation, while in all directions

tangible representations of the strange pictures we have seen upon fans

and lacquered ware are presented to view. One is struck by the partial

nudity of men, women, and children, the extremely simple architecture of

the dwelling-houses, the peculiar vegetation, the extraordinary

salutations between the common people who meet each other upon the

streets, the trading bazaars, and the queer toy-like articles which fill

them; children flying kites in the shape of hideous yellow monsters.

Each subject becomes a fresh study. Men drawing vehicles, like horses

between the shafts, and trotting off at a six-mile pony-gait while

drawing after them one or two persons, is a singular sight to a

stranger. So are the naked natives, by fours, bearing heavy loads swung

from their shoulders upon stout bamboo poles, while they shout a

measured chant by means of which to keep step. No beggars are seen upon

the streets; the people without exception are all neat and cleanly. The

houses are special examples of neatness, and very small, being seldom

more than twenty feet square, and one story in height. All persons,

foreigners or natives, take off their shoes before entering upon the

polished floors, not only out of respect to the customs of the country,

but because one does not feel like treading upon their floors with

nailed heels or soiled soles. The conviction forces itself upon us that

such universal neatness and cleanliness must extend even to the moral

character of the people. A spirit of gentleness, industry, and thrift

are observable everywhere, imparting an Arcadian atmosphere to these

surroundings. In the houses which we enter there are found neither

chairs, tables, nor bedsteads; the people sit, eat, and sleep upon the

floors, which are as clean as a newly laid tablecloth.

Here and there upon the roadsides moss-grown shrines bearing sacred

emblems are observed, before which women, but rarely men, are seen

bending. The principal religions of Japan are Shinto and Buddhism,

subdivided into many sects. The Shinto is mainly a form of hero worship,

successful warriors being canonized as martyrs are in the Roman Catholic

Church. Buddhism is another form of idolatry, borrowed originally from

the Chinese. The language of the country is composed of the Chinese and

Japanese combined. As we travel inland, places are pointed out to us

where populous cities once stood, but where no ruins mark the spot. A

dead and buried city in Europe or in Asia leaves rude but almost

indestructible remains to mark where great communities once built

temples and monuments, and lived and thrived, like those historic

examples of mutability, Memphis, Pæstum, Cumæ, or Delhi; but not so in

Japan. It seems strange indeed that a locality where half a million of

people have made their homes within the period of a century, should now

present the aspect only of fertile fields of grain. But when it is

remembered of what fragile material the natives build their

dwellings,--namely, of light, thin wood and paper,--their utter

disappearance ceases to surprise us. It is a curious fact that this

people, contemporary with Greece and Rome at their zenith, who have only

reared cities of wood and temples of lacquer, have outlived the classic

nations whose half-ruined monuments are our choicest models. The Greek

and Latin races have passed away, but Japan still remains, without a

change of dynasty and with an inviolate country.

In journeying inland we are struck with many peculiarities showing how

entirely opposite to our own methods are many of theirs. At the

post-stations the horses are placed and tied in their stalls with their

heads to the passage-way, and their tails where we place their heads.

Instead of iron shoes, the Japanese pony is shod with close-braided

rice-straw. Carpenters, in using the fore-plane, draw it towards them

instead of pushing it from them. It is the same in using a saw, the

teeth being set accordingly. So the tailor sews from him, not towards

his body, and holds his thread with his toes. The women ride astride,

like the Hawaiians.

A trip of fifteen miles from Yokohama will take us to the town of

Kamakura, where we find the remarkable idol of Dai-Butsu. This great

Buddha image, composed of gold, silver, and copper, forms a bronze

figure of nearly sixty feet in height, within which a hundred persons

may stand together, the interior being fitted at the base as a small

chapel. A vast number of little scraps of paper bearing Japanese

characters, flutter from the interior walls of the big idol, fastened

there by pious pilgrims, forming petitions to the presiding deity. As we

enter, these scraps, agitated by the winds, rustle like an army of white

bats. This sacred figure is as remarkable as the Sphinx, which presides

so placidly at the feet of the great Pyramids. As a work of art, its

only merits consist in the calm dignity of expression and repose upon

its colossal features. It is many centuries old, and how such an

enormous amount of bronze metal was ever cast, or how set up in such

perfect shape when finished, no one can say. It must have been

completed in sections and put together in the place where it stands, the

joints being so perfectly welded as not to be obvious. It was formerly

covered by a temple which has long since mouldered to dust, but it is

certainly none the less effective and impressive, as it now sits

surrounded by the natural scenery and the thick woods.

Japanese art, of which we have all seen such laughable specimens, is not

without some claims to excellence; otherwise we should not have the

myriads of beautifully ornamented articles which are produced by them,

exhibiting exquisite finish and perfection of detail. Of perspective

they have no idea whatever; the play of light and shade they do not

understand; there is no distinction of distances in their pictures.

Their figures are good, being also delicately executed, and their choice

of colors is admirable. Thus in profile work they get on very well, but

in grouping, they pile houses on the sea, and mountains on the houses.

In caricature they greatly excel, and, indeed, they scarcely attempt to

represent the human face and figure in any other light.

Tokio is the political capital of Japan, and is situated about twenty

miles from Yokohama, containing over half a million of people. It has

broad streets and good roadways, having adopted many American ideas of

city customs and government. The Bridge of Japan is situated in this

city, crossing the river which intersects the capital, and is here what

the golden milestone was in the Forum at Rome--all distances in the

Empire are measured from it. There are many elaborate temples within the

city, containing rare bronzes of great value. Priests are constantly

seen writing upon slips of paper, inside of the temples, at the request

of devotees, which the suppliants pin upon the walls of the temple as a

form of prayer. The renowned temple of Shiba is one of the greatest

attractions to strangers in Tokio. Here lie buried most of the bygone

Tycoons (sovereigns of Japan). The grounds are divided into many

departments, tombs, shrines, and small temples. In the main temple there

is an amount of gold, silver, and bronze ornaments of fabulous value,

leading us to wonder where the raw material could have come from.

History knows nothing of the importation of the precious metals, but it

is true that they are found in more or less abundance all over the

country. Copper of the purest quality is a native product, the

exportation of which is prohibited, and mining for the precious metals

is carried on to but a very limited extent. The temple of Shiba is

situated near the centre of the population, occupying many acres of

ground, walled in, and shaded by a thick grove of trees, whose branches

are black with thousands of undisturbed rooks and pigeons which are

considered sacred. The principal characteristic of the architecture is

its boldness of relief, overhanging roofs, heavy brackets, and elaborate

carvings. The doors are of solid bronze in bas-relief.

In the suburbs is a hill known as Atago-Yama, from whence there is a

grand, comprehensive view of the capital. A couple of miles to the

southeast lies the broad, glistening Bay of Tokio, and round the other

points of the compass the imperial city itself covers a plain of some

eight miles square, divided by water-ways, bridges, and clumps of

graceful trees looming conspicuously above the low dwellings. The whole

is as level as a checker-board; but yet there is relief to the picture

in the fine open gardens, the high-peaked gable roofs of the temples,

and the broad white roadways.

A visit to Kioto, which is called the City of Temples, shows us some

prominent local peculiarities. The Japanese character presents as much

unlikeness to the Oriental as to the European type, and is comparable

only to itself. A native believes that the little caricature in ivory or

wood which has, perhaps, been manufactured under his own eyes, or even

by his own hands, is sacred, and he will address his prayers to it with

a solemn conviction of its power to respond favorably. His most revered

gods are effigies of renowned warriors and successful generals. African

superstition is no blinder than is such adoration, though it be

performed by an intelligent people. Some of the native animals, such as

foxes, badgers, and snakes, are protected with superstitious reverence.

Before one of the temples we see a theatrical performance in progress,

which seems rather incongruous, but upon inquiry the object of this is

found to be a desire to appease the special gods of this individual

temple; in fact, to entertain and amuse them so that they will receive

the prayers of the people with favor. The exhibition consists of dancing

and posturing by professionals of both sexes, accompanied by the noise

of whistles, gongs, bells, and fifes.

At Koby we embark for Nagasaki, sailing the whole length of the famous

Inland Sea, a most enchanting three days' voyage among lovely islands,

terraced and cultivated here and there like vineyards on the Rhine. The

course is characterized by narrow and winding passages, losing

themselves in creeks and bays after a most curious fashion, while brown

hamlets here and there fringe the coast line. Nagasaki is in the

extreme south of Japan, a city second only to Yokohama in commercial

importance. A sad interest attaches to the small but lofty island of

Pappenburg, which stands like a sentinel guarding the entrance to the

harbor. It is the Tarpeian Rock of the far East. During the persecution

of the Christians in the seventeenth century, the steep cliff which

forms the seaward side of the island was an execution point, and from

here men and women who declined to abjure their faith were cast headlong

on the sea-washed rocks five hundred feet below. The harbor is

surrounded by lofty elevations. Tall, dark pines and a verdant

undergrowth mark the deep ravines and sloping hillsides, upon which

European dwellings are seen overlooking the bay. If we climb the path

among these hills we occasionally pass a Buddhist temple, and come upon

many wild-flowers, shaded by oaks and camphor-trees of great size and

beautiful foliage, with occasional specimens of the Japanese wax-tree.

Still further up, the hills are covered with dark, moss-grown

gravestones, bearing curious characters engraven upon them, and marking

the sleeping-places of bygone generations. The unbroken quiet of this

city of the dead contrasts vividly with the hum of busy life which comes

up to us from the town with its population of a hundred thousand souls.

As to the products of this locality, they are mostly figured porcelain,

embroidered silks, japanned goods, ebony and tortoise-shell finely

carved and manufactured into toy ornaments. Every small, low house has a

shop in front quite open to the street; but small as these houses are,

room is nearly always found in the rear or at the side for a little

flower-garden, fifteen or twenty feet square, where dwarf trees flourish

amid hillocks of turf and ferns, with here and there a tub of goldfish.

Azaleas, laurels, and tiny clumps of bamboos, are the most common plants

to be seen in these charming little spots of greenery.

Botanists declare Japan to be one of the richest of all countries in its

vegetation. The cultivation of the soil is thoroughly and skilfully

systematized, the greatest possible results being obtained from a given

area of land. This is partly due to the careful mode of enrichment

applied in liquid form. Its flora is spontaneous and magnificent,

repaying the smallest attention by a development which is surprising.

Next in importance to the production of rice, which is the staple food

of the people, come the mulberry and tea plants, one species of the

former not only feeding the silkworm, but it also affords the fibre of

which Japanese paper is made, as well as forming the basis of their

cordage and some descriptions of dress material. In usefulness the

bamboo is most remarkable, growing to a height of sixty feet, and

entering into the construction of house-frames, screens, many household

articles, mats, pipes, and sails. The camphor-tree, which is seen in

such abundance, is a grand ornament in the landscape, lofty and

broad-spread. The camphor of commerce is extracted from both the stem

and the roots of the tree, which, being cut into small pieces, are

subjected to a process of decoction.

No sooner have the Japanese been fairly introduced to American and

European civilization, than they have promptly taken a stride of four or

five centuries at a single leap, from despotism in its most ultra form

to constitutional government. When America opened the port of Yokohama

to the commerce of the world, it also opened that hermetically sealed

land to the introduction of progressive ideas; and though,

unfortunately, the elements of civilization which are most readily

assimilated are not always the most beneficial, still the result, taken

as a whole, has been worthy of the admiration of the world at large.

The natural intelligence of the Japanese has no superior among any race,

however much it may have been perverted, or have lain dormant. There is

evidence enough of this in the fact that the young men of that country

who are sent here for educational purposes, so frequently win academic

prizes and honors over our native scholars, notwithstanding the

disadvantages under which a foreigner is inevitably placed.

When we speak of the progress of the Japanese as a nation, we must not

forget that the national records of the country date from nearly seven

hundred years before the birth of Christ, and that a regular succession

of Mikados (supreme rulers), in lineal descent from the founders of

their dynasty and race, has since that remote date been carefully

preserved.

Foot-prints of Travel; Or, Journeyings in Many Lands · 第 2 / 24 章