CHAPTER II. TYPES OF HOUSES.

Writers on Japan have often commented upon the absence of any grand or

imposing architectural edifices in that country; and they have offered in

explanation, that in a country shaken by frequent earthquakes no stately

structures or buildings of lofty proportions can endure. Nevertheless,

many such structures do exist, and have existed for centuries,—as witness

the old temples and lofty pagodas, and also the castles of the Daimios,

notably the ones at Kumamoto and Nagoya. If the truth were known, it would

be found that revolution and rebellion have been among the principal

destructive agencies in nearly obliterating whatever may have once existed

of grand architectural structures in Japan.

Aimé Humbert finds much to admire in the castles of the Daimios, and says,

with truth: “In general, richness of detail is less aimed at than the

general effect resulting from the grandeur and harmony of the proportions

of the buildings. In this respect some of the seigniorial residences of

Japan deserve to figure among the architectural monuments of Eastern

Asia.”

In regard to the architecture of Japan, as to other matters, one must put

himself in an attitude of sympathy with her people, or at least he must

become awakened to a sympathetic appreciation of their work and the

conditions under which it has arisen. Above all, he must rid himself of

all preconceived ideas as to what a house should be, and judge the work of

a Japanese builder solely from the Japanese stand‐point. Architectural

edifices, such as we recognize as architectural, do not exist outside her

temples and castles. Some reason for this condition of things may be

looked for in the fact that the vast majority of the Japanese are

poor,—very poor; and further, in the fact that the idea of co‐operative

buildings, with the exception of the Yashiki barracks, has never entered a

Japanese mind,—each family, with few exceptions, managing to have a house

of its own. As a result of this, a vast number of the houses are shelters

merely, and are such from necessity; though even among these poorer

shelters little bits of temple architecture creep in,—quite as scanty,

however, in that respect as are similar features in our two‐storied wooden

boxes at home, which may have a bit of Grecian suggestion in the window

caps, or of Doric in the front door‐posts.

In considering the temples of the Japanese, moreover, one should take into

account their methods of worship, and precisely what use the worshippers

make of these remarkable edifices. And so with intelligent sympathy

finally aroused in all these matters, they begin to wear a new aspect; and

what appeared grotesque and unmeaning before, now becomes full of

significance and beauty. We see that there is something truly majestic in

the appearance of the broad and massive temples, with the grand upward

sweep of their heavily‐tiled roofs and deep‐shaded eaves, with intricate

maze of supports and carvings beneath; the whole sustained on colossal

round posts locked and tied together by equally massive timbers.

Certainly, to a Japanese the effect must be inspiring beyond description;

and the contrast between these structures and the tiny and perishable

dwellings that surround them renders the former all the more grand and

impressive. Foreigners, though familiar with the cathedral architecture of

Europe, must yet see much to admire in these buildings. Even in the

smaller towns and villages, where one might least expect to find such

structures, the traveller sometimes encounters these stately edifices.

Their surroundings are invariably picturesque; no sterile lot, or

worthless sand‐hill outside the village, will suit these simple people,

but the most charming and beautiful place is always selected as a site for

their temples of worship.

Whatever may be said regarding the architecture of Japan, the foreigner,

at least, finds it difficult to recognize any distinct types of

architecture among the houses, or to distinguish any radical differences

in the various kinds of dwellings he sees in his travels through the

country. It may be possible that these exist, for one soon gets to

recognize the differences between the ancient and modern house. There are

also marked differences between the compact house of the merchant in the

city and the country house; but as for special types of architecture that

would parallel the different styles found in our country, there are none.

Everywhere one notices minor details of finish and ornament which he sees

more fully developed in the temple architecture, and which is evidently

derived from this source; and if it can be shown, as it unquestionably

can, that these features were brought into the country by the priests who

brought one of the two great religions, then we can trace many features of

architectural detail to their home, and to the avenues through which they

came.

In connection with the statement just made, that it is difficult to

recognize any special types of architecture in Japanese dwellings, it may

be interesting to mention that we found it impossible to get books in

their language treating of house architecture. Doubtless books of this

nature exist,—indeed, they must exist; but though the writer had a

Japanese bookseller, and a number of intelligent friends among the

Japanese, looking for such books, he never had the good fortune to secure

any. Books in abundance can be got treating of temple architecture, from

the plans of the framing to the completed structure; also of _kura,_ or

go‐downs, gateways, _tori‐i,_ etc. Plans of buildings for their tea‐

ceremonies, and endless designs for the inside finish of a house,—the

recesses, book‐shelves, screens, and indeed all the delicate cabinet‐

work,—are easily obtainable; but a book which shall show the plans and

elevations of the ordinary dwelling the writer has never yet seen. A

number of friends have given him the plans of their houses as made by the

carpenter, but there were no elevations or details of outside finish

represented. It would seem as if, for the ordinary houses at least, it

were only necessary to detail in plan the number and size of the rooms,

leaving the rest of the structure to be completed in any way by the

carpenter, so long as he contrived to keep the rain out.

If there is no attempt at architectural display in the dwelling‐houses of

Japan the traveller is at least spared those miserable experiences he so

often encounters in his own country, where to a few houses of good taste

he is sure to pass hundreds of perforated wooden boxes with angular roofs

and red chimneys unrelieved by a single moulding; and now and then to meet

with one of those cupola‐crowned, broad‐brimmed, corinthian‐columned

abominations, as well as with other forms equally grotesque and equally

offending good taste.

Owing to the former somewhat isolated life of the different provinces, the

style of building in Japan varies considerably; and this is more

particularly marked in the design of the roof and ridge. Though the

Japanese are conservative in many things concerning the house, it is

worthy of note that changes have taken place in the house architecture

within two hundred and fifty years; at all events, houses of the olden

times have much heavier beams in their frame and wider planks in their

structure, than have the houses of more recent times. A probable reason is

that wood was much cheaper in past times; or it is possible that

experience has taught them that sufficiently strong houses can be made

with lighter material.

The Japanese dwellings are always of wood, usually of one story and

unpainted. Rarely does a house strike one as being specially marked or

better looking than its neighbors; more substantial, certainly, some of

them are, and yet there is a sameness about them which becomes wearisome.

Particularly is this the case with the long, uninteresting row of houses

that border a village street; their picturesque roofs alone save them from

becoming monotonous. A closer study, however, reveals some marked

differences between the country and city houses, as well as between those

of different provinces.

The country house, if anything more than a shelter from the elements, is

larger and more substantial than the city house, and with its ponderous

thatched roof and elaborate ridge is always picturesque. One sees much

larger houses in the north,—roofs of grand proportions and an amplitude of

space beneath, that farther south occurs only under the roofs of temples.

We speak now of the houses of the better classes, for the poor farm‐

laborer and fisherman, as well as their prototypes in the city, possess

houses that are little better than shanties, built, as a friend has

forcibly expressed it, of “chips, paper, and straw.” But even these huts,

clustered together as they oftentimes are in the larger cities, are

palatial in contrast to the shattered and filthy condition of a like class

of tenements in many of the cities of Christian countries.

In travelling through the country the absence of a middle class, as

indicated by the dwellings, is painfully apparent. It is true that you

pass, now and then, large comfortable houses with their broad thatched

roofs, showing evidences of wealth and abundance in the numerous _kura_

and outbuildings surrounding them; but where you find one of these you

pass hundreds which are barely more than shelters for their inmates; and

within, the few necessary articles render the evidences of poverty all the

more apparent.

Though the people that inhabit such shelters are very poor, they appear

contented and cheerful notwithstanding their poverty. Other classes, who

though not poverty‐stricken are yet poor in every sense of the word,

occupy dwellings of the simplest character. Many of the dwellings are

often diminutive in size; and as one looks in at a tiny cottage containing

two or three rooms at the most, the entire house hardly bigger than a

good‐sized room at home, and observes a family of three or four persons

living quietly and in a cleanly manner in this limited space, he learns

that in Japan, at least, poverty and constricted quarters are not always

correlated with coarse manners, filth, and crime.

Country and city houses of the better class vary as greatly as with

us,—the one with its ponderous thatched roof and smoke‐blackened interior,

the other with low roof neatly tiled, or shingled, and the perfection of

cleanliness within.

In Tokio, the houses that abut directly on the street have a close and

prison‐like aspect. The walls are composed of boards or plaster, and

perforated with one or two small windows lightly barred with bamboo, or

heavily barred with square wood‐gratings. The entrance to one of these

houses is generally at one corner, or at the side. The back of the house

and one side, at least, have a verandah. I speak now of the better class

of houses in the city, but not of the best houses, which almost invariably

stand back from the street and are surrounded by gardens.

The accompanying sketch (_fig. 33_) represents a group of houses bordering

a street in Kanda Ku, Tokio. The windows are in some cases projecting or

hanging bays, and are barred with bamboo or square bars of wood. A

sliding‐screen covered with stout white paper takes the place of our

glass‐windows. Through these gratings the inmates of the house do their

bargaining with the street venders. The entrance to these houses is

usually by means of a gate common to a number. This entrance consists of a

large gate used for vehicles and heavy loads, and by the side of this is a

smaller gate used by the people. Sometimes the big gate has a large square

opening in it, closed by a sliding‐door or grating,—and through this the

inmates have ingress and egress.

[Fig. 33.—Street in Kanda Ku, Tokio.]

Fig. 33.—Street in Kanda Ku, Tokio.

The houses, if of wood, are painted black; or else, as is more usually the

case, the wood is left in its natural state, and this gradually turns to a

darker shade by exposure. When painted, a dead black is used; and this

color is certainly agreeable to the eyes, though the heat‐rays caused by

this black surface become almost unendurable on hot days, and must add

greatly to the heat and discomfort within the house. With a plastered

outside wall the surface is often left white, while the frame‐work of the

building is painted black,—and this treatment gives it a decidedly

funereal aspect.

[Fig. 34.—Street in Kanda Ku, Tokio.]

Fig. 34.—Street in Kanda Ku, Tokio.

In _fig. 34_ two other houses in the same street are shown, one having a

two‐storied addition in the rear. The entrance to this house is by means

of a gate, which in the sketch is open. The farther house has the door on

the street.

It is not often that the streets are bordered by such well‐constructed

ditches on the side, as is represented in the last two figures; in these

cases the ditches are three or four feet wide, with well‐built stone‐walls

and stone or wooden bridges spanning them at the doors and gateways.

Through these ditches the water is running, and though vitiated by the

water from the kitchen and baths is yet sufficiently pure to support quite

a number of creatures, such as snails, frogs, and even fishes. In the

older city dwellings of the poorer classes a number of tenements often

occur in a block, and the entrance is by means of a gateway common to all.

Since the revolution of 1868 there has appeared a new style of building in

Tokio, in which a continuous low of tenements is under one roof, and each

tenement has its own separate entrance directly upon the street. _Fig. 35_

gives a sketch of a row of these tenements. These blocks, nearly always of

one story, are now quite common in various parts of Tokio. In the rear is

provided a small plot for each tenement, which may be used for a garden.

People of small means, but by no means the poorer classes, generally

occupy these dwellings. I was informed by an old resident of Tokio that

only since the revolution have houses been built with their doors or main

entrances opening directly on the street. This form of house is certainly

convenient and economical, and is destined to be a common feature of

house‐building in the future.

[Fig. 35.—Block of Cheap Tenements in Tokio.]

Fig. 35.—Block of Cheap Tenements in Tokio.

On the business streets similar rows of buildings are seen, though

generally each shop is an independent building, abutting directly to the

next; and in the case of all the smaller shops, and indeed of many of the

larger ones, the dwelling and shop are one, the goods being displayed in

the room on the street, while the family occupy the back rooms. While one

is bartering at a shop, the whole front being open, he may often catch a

glimpse of the family in the back room at dinner, and may look entirely

through a building to a garden beyond. It is a source of amazement to a

foreigner to find in the rear of a row of dull and sombre business‐houses

independent dwellings, with rooms of exquisite taste and cleanliness. I

remember, in one of the busiest streets of Tokio, passing through a

lithographer’s establishment, with the inky presses and inky workmen in

full activity, and coming upon the choicest of tiny gardens and, after

crossing a miniature foot‐bridge, to a house of rare beauty and finish. It

is customary for the common merchant to live under the same roof with the

shop, or in a closely contiguous building; though in Tokio, more than

elsewhere, I was informed it is the custom among the wealthy merchants to

have their houses in the suburbs of the city, at some distance from their

place of business.

[Fig. 36.—Street View of Dwelling in Tokio.]

Fig. 36.—Street View of Dwelling in Tokio.

The sketch shown in _Fig. 36_ is a city house of one of the better

classes. The house stands on a new street, and the lot on one side is

vacant; nevertheless, the house is surrounded on all sides by a high

board‐fence,—since, with the open character of a Japanese house, privacy,

if desired, can be secured only by high fences or thick hedges. The house

is shown as it appears from the street. The front‐door is near the gate,

which is shown on the left of the sketch. There is here no display of an

architectural front; indeed, there is no display anywhere. The largest and

best rooms are in the back of the house; and what might be called a back‐

yard, upon which the kitchen opens, is parallel with the area in front of

the main entrance to the house, and separated from it by a high fence. The

second story contains one room, and this may be regarded as a guest‐

chamber. Access to this chamber is by means of a steep flight of steps,

made out of thick plank, and unguarded by hand‐rail of any kind. The roof

is heavily tiled, while the walls of the house are outwardly composed of

broad thin boards, put on vertically, and having strips of wood to cover

the joints. A back view of this house is shown in _Fig. 37_. Here all the

rooms open directly on the garden. Along the verandah are three rooms _en

suite._ The balcony of the second story is covered by a light

supplementary roof, from which hangs a bamboo screen to shade the room

from the sun’s rays. Similar screens are also seen hanging below.

[Fig. 37.—View of Dwelling from Garden, Tokio.]

Fig. 37.—View of Dwelling from Garden, Tokio.

The verandah is quite spacious; and in line with the division between the

rooms is a groove for the adjustment of a wooden screen or shutter when it

is desired to separate the house into two portions temporarily. At the end

of the verandah to the left of the sketch is the latrine. The house is

quite open beneath, and the air has free circulation.

[Fig. 38.—Dwelling Near Kudan, Tokio.]

Fig. 38.—Dwelling Near Kudan, Tokio.

Another type of a Tokio house is shown in _Fig. 38_. This is a low, one‐

storied house, standing directly upon the street, its tiled roof cut up

into curious gables. The entrance is protected by a barred sliding door. A

large hanging bay‐window is also barred. Just over the fence a bamboo

curtain may be seen, which shades the verandah. The back of the house was

open, and probably looked out on a pretty garden,—though this I did not

see, as this sketch, like many others, was taken somewhat hastily.

From this example some idea may be got of the diminutive character of many

of the Japanese dwellings, in which, nevertheless, families live in all

cleanliness and comfort.

[Fig. 39.—Country Inn in Rikuzen.]

Fig. 39.—Country Inn in Rikuzen.

In the northern part of Japan houses are often seen which possess features

suggestive of the picturesque architecture of Switzerland,—the gable ends

showing, in their exterior, massive timbers roughly hewn, with all the

irregularities of the tree‐trunk preserved, the interstices between these

beams being filled with clay or plaster. The eaves are widely overhanging,

with projecting rafters. Oftentimes delicately‐carved wood is seen about

the gable‐ends and projecting balcony. As a still further suggestion of

this resemblance, the main roof, if shingled, as well as the roof that

shelters the verandah, is weighted with stones of various sizes to prevent

its being blown away by the high winds that often prevail. This feature is

particularly common in the Island of Yezo.

_Fig. 39_ gives a house of this description near Matsushima, in Rikuzen.

An opening for the egress of smoke occurs on the side of the roof, in

shape not unlike that of a round‐topped dormer window. This opening in

almost every instance is found on the gable end, directly beneath the

angle formed at the peak of the roof.

[Fig. 40.—Country Inn in Rikuzen.]

Fig. 40.—Country Inn in Rikuzen.

Another house of this kind, seen in the same province, is shown in _fig.

40_. Here the smoke‐outlet is on the ridge in the shape of an angular

roof, with its ridge running at right angles to the main ridge; in this is

a latticed window. This ventilator, as well as the main roof, is heavily

thatched, while the supplementary ridge is of boards and weighted with

stones. A good example of a heavily‐tiled and plastered wooden fence is

seen on the left of the sketch. In the road a number of laborers are shown

in the act of moving a heavy block of stone.

[Fig. 41.—House Near Mororan, Yezo.]

Fig. 41.—House Near Mororan, Yezo.

Another house, shown in _fig. 41_, was seen on the road to Mororan, in

Yezo. Here the smoke‐outlet was in the form of a low supplementary

structure on the ridge. The ridge itself was flat, and upon it grew a

luxuriant mass of lilies. This roof was unusually large and capacious.

At the place where the river Kitakami empties into the Bay of Sendai, and

where we left our boat in which we had come down the river from Morioka,

the houses were all of the olden‐style,—a number of these presenting some

good examples of projecting windows. _Fig. 42_ represents the front of a

house in this place. This shows a large gable‐roof, with broad overhanging

eaves in front,—the ends of the rafters projecting to support the eaves

and the transverse‐beams of the gable ends being equally in sight. The

projecting window, which might perhaps be called a bay, runs nearly the

entire length of the gable. The panels in the frieze were of dark wood,

and bore perforated designs of pine and bamboo alternating.

The larger houses of this description are always inns. They usually abut

directly upon the road, and have an open appearance and an air of

hospitality about them which at once indicates their character. One

encounters such places so frequently in Japan, that travelling in the

interior is rendered a matter of ease and comfort as compared with similar

experiences in neighboring countries. The larger number of these inns in

the north are of one‐story, though many may be seen that are two‐storied.

Very rarely does a three‐storied building occur. _Fig. 43_ represents one

of this nature, that was seen in a small village north of Sendai.

[Fig. 42.—Bay Window, Village of Odzuka, Rikuzen.]

Fig. 42.—Bay Window, Village of Odzuka, Rikuzen.

[Fig. 43.—Three‐storied House in Rikuchiu.]

Fig. 43.—Three‐storied House in Rikuchiu.

Houses of the better classes stand back from the road, and have bordering

the road high and oftentimes ponderous ridged walls, with gateways of

similar proportions and character, or fences of various kinds with rustic

gateways. Long, low out‐buildings, for servants’ quarters, also often form

portions of the boundary wall. In the denser part of larger cities it is

rare to find an old house,—the devastating conflagrations that so often

sweep across the cities rendering the survival of old houses almost an

impossibility. In the suburbs of cities and in the country, however, it is

not difficult to find houses one hundred, and even two or three hundred

years old. The houses age as rapidly as the people, and new houses very

soon turn gray from the weather; the poorer class of houses in particular

appear much older than they really are.

[Fig. 44.—Street in the Suburbs of Morioka.]

Fig. 44.—Street in the Suburbs of Morioka.

In entering Morioka, at the head of navigation on the Kitakami River, the

long street presents a remarkably pretty appearance, with its odd low‐

roofed houses (_fig. 44_), each standing with its end to the street,—the

peak of the thatched roof overhanging the smoke‐outlet like a hood. The

street is bordered by a high, rustic, bamboo fence; and between the houses

are little plats filled with bright‐colored flowers, and shrubbery

clustering within the fences, even sending its sprays into the footpath

bordering the road.

The country house of an independent _samurai,_ or rich farmer, is large,

roomy, and thoroughly comfortable. I recall with the keenest pleasure the

delightful days enjoyed under the roof of one of these typical mansions in

Kabutoyama, in the western part of the province of Musashi. The residence

consisted of a group of buildings shut in from the road by a high wall.

Passing through a ponderous gateway, one enters a spacious court‐yard,

flanked on either side by long, low buildings used as store‐houses and

servants’ quarters. At the farther end of the yard, and facing the

entrance, was a comfortable old farmhouse, having a projecting gable‐wing

to its right (_fig. 45_). The roof was a thatched one of unusual

thickness. At the end of the wing was a triangular latticed opening, from

which thin blue wreaths of smoke were curling. This building contained a

few rooms, including an unusually spacious kitchen,—a sketch of which is

given farther on. The kitchen opened directly into a larger and unfinished

portion of the house, having the earth for its floor, and used as a wood‐

shed. The owner informed me that the farm‐house was nearly three hundred

years old. To the left of the building was a high wooden fence, and

passing through a gateway one came into a smaller yard and garden. In this

area was another house quite independent of the farmhouse; this was the

house for guests. Its conspicuous feature consisted of a newly‐thatched

roof, surmounted by an elaborate and picturesque ridge,—its design derived

from temple architecture. Within were two large rooms opening upon a

narrow verandah. These rooms were unusually high in stud, and the mats and

all the appointments were most scrupulously clean. Communication with the

old house was by means of a covered passage. Back of this dwelling, and

some distance from it, was still another house, two stories in height, and

built in the most perfect taste; and here lived the grandfather of the

family,—a fine old gentleman, dignified and courtly in his manners.

[Fig. 45.—Old Farm‐house in Kabutoyama.]

Fig. 45.—Old Farm‐house in Kabutoyama.

The farm‐house yard presented all the features of similar areas at home. A

huge pile of wood cut for the winter’s supply was piled up against the L.

Basket‐like coops, rakes, and the customary utensils of a farmer’s

occupation were scattered about. The sketch of this old house gives but a

faint idea of the massive and top‐heavy appearance of the roof, or of the

large size of the building. The barred windows below, covered by a narrow

tiled roof, were much later additions to the structure.

In the city houses of the better class much care is often taken to make

the surroundings appear as rural as possible, by putting here and there

quaint old wells, primitive and rustic arbors, fences, and gateways. The

gateways receive special attention in this way, and the oddest of

entrances are often seen in thickly‐settled parts of large cities.

Houses with thatched roofs, belonging to the wealthiest classes, are

frequently seen in the suburbs of Tokio and Kioto, and, strange as it may

appear, even within the city proper. One might be led to suppose that such

roofs would quickly fall a prey to the sparks of a conflagration; but an

old thatched roof gets compacted with dust and soot to such an extent that

plants and weeds of various kinds, and large clumps of mosses, are often

seen flourishing in luxuriance upon such surfaces, offering a good

protection against flying sparks. In Kioto we recall a house of this

description which was nearly three centuries old; and since we made

sketches of its appearance from the street, from just within the gateway,

and from the rear, we will describe these views in sequence.

[Fig. 46.—Entrance to Court‐yard of Old House in Kioto.]

Fig. 46.—Entrance to Court‐yard of Old House in Kioto.

The first view, then (_fig. 46_), is from the street, and represents a

heavily‐roofed gateway, with a smaller gateway at the side. The big gates

had been removed, and the little gateway was permanently closed. This

ponderous structure was flanked on one side by a low stretch of buildings,

plastered on the outside, having small barred windows on the street, and a

barred look‐out commanding the gateway both outside and within. On the

other side of the gateway was a high, thick wall, also furnished with a

window or lookout. The outer walls rose directly from the wall forming the

gutter, or, more properly speaking, a diminutive moat that ran along the

side of the street. Blocks of worked stone formed a bridge across this

moat, by which access was gained to the enclosure. The old dwelling, with

its sharp‐ridged roof, may be seen above the buildings just described.

[Fig. 47.—Old house in Kioto. Court‐yard view.]

Fig. 47.—Old house in Kioto. Court‐yard view.

_Fig. 47_ represents the appearance of this old house from just within the

gateway. The barred window to the left of the sketch may be seen through

the open gateway in _fig. 46_, and the tree which showed over the top of

the gateway in that sketch is now in full view. The old house has a

thatched roof with a remarkably steep pitch, surmounted by a ridge of

tiles; a narrow tiled roof runs about the house directly below the eaves

of the thatched roof. Suspended below this roof is seen a ladder and fire‐

engine, to be ready in case of emergency. The truth must be told, however,

that these domestic engines are never ready; for when they are wanted, it

is found that the square cylinders are so warped and cracked by the hot

summers that when they are brought into action their chief accomplishment

consists in squirting water through numerous crevices upon the men who are

frantically endeavoring to make these engines do their duty properly.

[Fig. 48.—Old House in Kioto, Garden View.]

Fig. 48.—Old House in Kioto, Garden View.

The yard was well swept, and quite free from weeds, though at one side a

number of shrubs and a banana tree were growing in a luxuriant tangle. A

single tree, of considerable age, rose directly in a line with the

entrance to the yard.

The house, like all such houses, had its uninteresting end toward the

street; and here, attached to the house, was a “lean‐to,” or shed, with a

small circular window. This was probably a kitchen, as a gateway is seen

in the sketch, which led to the kitchen‐garden.

In _Fig. 48_ a sketch of this house is given from the garden in the rear.

The house is quite open behind, and looks out on the garden and fish‐pond,

which is seen in the foreground. The tiled roof which covers the verandah,

and the out‐buildings as well, was a subsequent addition to the old house.

The sole occupants consisted of the mother and maiden sister of the famous

antiquarian Ninagawa Noritani. The garden, with its shrubs, plats of

flowers, stepping‐stones leading to the fish‐pond filled with lotus and

lilies, and the bamboo trellis, is a good specimen of an old garden upon

which but little care has been bestowed.

In the cities nothing is more surprising to a foreigner than to go from

the dust and turmoil of a busy street directly into a rustic yard and the

felicity of quiet country life. On one of the busy streets of Tokio I had

often passed a low shop, the barred front of which was never opened to

traffic, nor was there ever any one present with whom to deal. I used

often to peer between the bars; and from the form of the wooden boxes on

the step‐like shelves within, I knew that the occupant was a dealer in old

pottery. One day I called through the bars several times, and finally a

man pushed back the screen in the rear of the shop and bade me come in by

way of a narrow alley a little way up the street. This I did, and soon

came to a gate that led me into one of the neatest and cleanest little

gardens it is possible to imagine. The man was evidently just getting

ready for a tea‐party, and, as is customary in winter, the garden had been

liberally strewn with pine‐needles, which had then been neatly swept from

the few paths and formed in thick mats around some of the shrubs and

trees. The master had already accosted me from the verandah, and after

bringing the customary _hibachi,_ over which I warmed my hands, and tea

and cake, he brought forth some rare old pottery.

[Fig. 49.—House in Tokio.]

Fig. 49.—House in Tokio.

The verandah and a portion of this house as it appeared from the garden

are given in _fig. 49_. At the end of the verandah is seen a narrow

partition, made out of the planks of an old ship; it is secured to the

side of the house by a huge piece of bamboo. One is greatly interested to

see how curiously, and oftentimes artistically, the old worm‐eaten and

blackened fragments of a shipwreck are worked into the various parts of a

house,—this being an odd fancy of the Japanese house‐builder. Huge and

irregular‐shaped logs will often form the cross‐piece to a gateway;

rudder‐posts fixed in the ground form the support of bronze or pottery

vessels to hold water. But fragments of a shipwreck are most commonly

seen. This wood is always rich in color, and has an antique

appearance,—these qualities commending it at once to the Japanese eye, and

rendering it, with its associations, an attractive object for their

purposes.

In the house above mentioned a portion of a vessel’s side or bottom had

been used bodily for a screen at the end of the verandah,—for just beyond

was the latrine, from the side of which is seen jutting another wing,

consisting of a single weatherworn plank bordered by a bamboo‐post. This

was a screen to shut out the kitchen‐yard beyond. Various stepping‐stones

of irregular shape, as well as blackened planks, were arranged around the

yard in picturesque disorder. The sketch conveys, with more or less

accuracy, one of the many phases of Japanese taste in these matters.

The wood‐work from the rafters of the verandah roof above, to the planks

below, was undefiled by oil, paint, wood‐filling, or varnish of any kind.

The carpentry was light, yet durable and thoroughly constructive; while

outside and inside every feature was as neat and clean as a cabinet. The

room bordering this verandah is shown in _fig. 125_.

[Fig. 50.—View from the Second Story of Dwelling in Imado, Tokio.]

Fig. 50.—View from the Second Story of Dwelling in Imado, Tokio.

_Fig. 50_ gives a view from the L of a gentleman’s house in Tokio, from

which was seen the houses and gardens of the neighborhood. The high and

close fence borders a roadway which runs along the bank of the Sumida‐

gawa. A short fence of brush juts out obliquely from the latrine, and

forms a screen between the house and the little gate. From this sketch

some idea may be formed of the appearance of the balcony and verandah, and

how well they are protected by the overhanging roofs.

The inns, particularly the country inns, have a most cosey and comfortable

air about them. One always has the freedom of the entire place; at least a

foreigner generally makes himself at home everywhere about the public

houses, and in this respect impress a Japanese with his boorish ways,

since the native guests usually keep to their own rooms. The big,

capacious kitchen, with its smoke‐blackened rafters overhead, its ruddy

glow of wood‐fire (a sight rarely seen in the cities, where charcoal is

the principal fuel), and the family busy with their various domestic

duties, is a most cosey and agreeable region.

[Fig. 51.—Old Inn in Mishima, Suruga.]

Fig. 51.—Old Inn in Mishima, Suruga.

On the ride across Yezo, from Otarunai to Mororan, one passes a number of

inns of the most ample proportions; and their present deserted appearance

contrasts strangely with their former grandeur, when the Daimio of the

province, accompanied by swarms of _samurai_ and other attendants, made

his annual pilgrimage to the capital.

At Mishima, in the province of Suruga, a curious old inn was seen (_fig.

51_). The second story overhung the first story in front, and the eaves

were very widely‐projecting. At the sides of the building a conspicuous

feature was the verge boards, which were very large, with their lower

margins cut in curious sweeps. This may have been intended for an

architectural adornment, or possibly for a wind or sun screen; at all

events it was, as we saw it, associated with buildings of considerable

antiquity. In the middle and southern provinces of Japan the feature of an

over‐hanging second story is by no means uncommon.

[Fig. 52.—Village Street in Nasaike, Yamashiro.]

Fig. 52.—Village Street in Nasaike, Yamashiro.

A group of houses in a village street is shown in _fig. 52_. The nearest

house is a resting‐place for travellers; the next is a candle‐shop, where

the traveller and _jinrikisha_ man may replenish their lanterns; the third

is a _jinrikisha_ stand, and beyond this is a light board‐structure of

some kind. All of these are dwellings as well. This street was in the

village of Nagaike, between Nara and Kioto.

The country houses on the east coast of Kagoshima Gulf, in the province of

Osumi, as well as in the province of Satsuma, have thatched roofs of

ponderous proportions, while the walls supporting them are very low. These

little villages along the coast present a singular aspect, as one

distinguishes only the high and thick roofs. _Fig. 53_ is a sketch of

Mototaru‐midsu as from the water, and _fig. 54_ represents the appearance

of a group of houses seen in the same village, which is on the road

running along the gulf coast of Osumi. The ridge is covered by a layer of

bamboo; and the ends of the ridge, where it joins the hip of the roof, are

guarded by a stout matting of bamboo and straw. In this sketch a regular

New England well‐sweep is seen, though it is by no means an uncommon

object in other parts of Japan. Where the well is under cover, the well‐

sweep is so arranged that the well‐pole goes through a hole in the roof.

[Fig. 53.—Shore of Osumi.]

Fig. 53.—Shore of Osumi.

[Fig. 54.—Farmer’s Houses in Mototaru‐Midsu, Osumi.]

Fig. 54.—Farmer’s Houses in Mototaru‐Midsu, Osumi.

The fishermen’s houses are oftentimes nothing more than the roughest

shelters from the elements, and being more closed than the peasants’

houses are consequently darker and dirtier. In the neighborhood of larger

towns, where the fishermen are more prosperous, their houses compare

favorably with those of the peasant class. _Fig. 55_ shows a group of

fishermen’s huts on the neck of sand which connects Hakodate with the main

island. The high stockade fences act as barriers to the winds which blow

so furiously across the bar at certain seasons. Fig. 56 represents a few

fishermen’s huts at Enoshima, a famous resort a little south of Yokohama.

Here the houses are comparatively large and comfortable, though poor and

dirty at best. The huge baskets seen in the sketch are used to hold and

transport fish from the boat to the shore.

[Fig. 55.—Fishermen’s Huts in Hakodate.]

Fig. 55.—Fishermen’s Huts in Hakodate.

[Fig. 56.—Fishermen’s Huts in Enoshima.]

Fig. 56.—Fishermen’s Huts in Enoshima.

In the city no outbuildings, such as sheds and barns, are seen.

Accompanying the houses of the better class are solid, thick‐walled, fire‐

proof buildings called _kura,_ in which the goods and chattels are stowed

away in times of danger from conflagrations. These buildings, which are

known to the foreigner as “go‐downs,” are usually two stories in height,

and have one or two small windows, and one door, closed by thick and

ponderous shutters. Such a building usually stands isolated from the

dwelling, and sometimes, though rarely, they are converted into domiciles.

Of such a character is the group of buildings in Tokio represented in

_fig. 57_, belonging to a genial antiquary, in which he has stored a rare

collection of old books, manuscripts, paintings, and other antique

objects.

[Fig. 57.—Kura in Tokio.]

Fig. 57.—Kura in Tokio.

[Fig. 58.—Kura, or Fire‐proof Buildings in Tokio.]

Fig. 58.—Kura, or Fire‐proof Buildings in Tokio.

Fig. 58, copied from a sketch made by Mr. S. Koyama, represents another

group of these buildings in Tokio. These _kura_ belonged to the famous

antiquarian Ninagawa Noritani. In these buildings were stored his

treasures of pottery and painting. Often light wooden extensions are built

around the _kura,_ and in such cases the family live in the outside

apartments. An example of this kind is shown in _fig. 59_, which is an old

house in a poor quarter of the city of Hakodate. The central portion

represents the two‐storied _kura,_ and around it is built an additional

shelter having a tiled roof. In case of fire the contents of the outer

rooms are hurriedly stowed within the fire‐proof portion, the door closed,

and the crevices chinked with mud. These buildings usually survive in the

midst of a wide‐spread conflagration, while all the outer wooden additions

are consumed. Further reference will be made to these structures in other

portions of the work. It may be proper to state, however, that nearly

every shop has connected with it a fire‐proof building of this nature.

[Fig. 59.—Old House in Hakodate.]

Fig. 59.—Old House in Hakodate.

It hardly comes within the province of this work to describe or figure

buildings which are not strictly speaking homes; for this reason no

reference will be made to the monotonous rows of buildings so common in

Tokio, which form portions of the boundary‐wall wall of the _yashiki;_

and, indeed, had this been desirable, it would have been somewhat

difficult to find the material, in their original condition, for study.

Many of the _yashikis_ have been destroyed by fire; others have been

greatly modified, and are now occupied by various Government departments.

In Tokio, for example, the _yashiki_ of the Daimio of Kaga is used by the

educational department, the Mito _yashiki_ for the manufacture of war

material, and still others are used for barracks and other Government

purposes. As one rides through the city he often passes these _yashikis,_

showing from the street as long monotonous rows of buildings, generally

two stories in height, with heavy tiled roofs. The wall of the first story

is generally tiled or plastered. The second‐story wall may be of wood or

plaster. This wall is perforated at intervals with small heavily‐barred

windows or hanging bays. The entrance, composed of stout beams, is closed

by ponderous gates thickly studded with what appear to be massive‐headed

bolts, but which are, however, of fictitious solidity. The buildings rest

on stone foundations abutting directly on the street, or interrupted by a

ditch which often assumes the dignity of a castle moat. These buildings in

long stretches formed a portion of the outer walls of the _yashikis_

within which were the separate residences of the Daimios and officers,

while the buildings just alluded to were used by the soldiers for

barracks.

The great elaboration and variety in the form and structure of the house‐

roof almost merit the dignity of a separate section. For it is mainly to

the roof that the Japanese house owes its picturesque appearance; it is

the roof which gives to the houses that novelty and variety which is so

noticeable among them in different parts of the country. The lines of a

well‐made thatched roof are something quite remarkable in their

proportions. A great deal of taste and skill is displayed in the proper

trimming of the eaves; and the graceful way in which the eaves of the

gable are made to join the side eaves is always attractive and a

noticeable feature in Japanese architecture, and the admirable way in

which a variety of gables are made to unite with the main roof would

excite praise from the most critical architect.

The elaborate structure of the thatched and tiled roofs, and the great

variety in the design and structure of the ridges show what might be done

by a Japanese architect if other portions of the house‐exterior received

an equal amount of ingenuity and attention.

Japanese roofs are either shingled, thatched, or tiled. In the country,

tiled roofs are the exception, the roofs being almost exclusively

thatched,—though in the smaller houses, especially in the larger country

villages, the shingled and tiled roofs are often seen. In the larger towns

and cities the houses are usually tiled; yet even here shingled roofs are

not uncommon, and though cheaper than the tiled roofs, are by no means

confined to the poorer houses. In the suburbs, and even in the outskirts

of the cities, thatched roofs are common: in such cases the thatched roof

indicates either the presence of what was at one time an old farm‐house to

which the city has extended, or else it is the house of a gentleman who

prefers such a roof on account of its picturesqueness and the suggestions

of rural life that go with it.

The usual form of the roof is generally that of a hip or gable. In the

thatched roof, the portion coming directly below the ridge‐pole is in the

form of a gable, and this blends into a hip‐roof. A curb‐roof is never

seen. Among the poorer classes a simple pent roof is common; and additions

or attachments to the main building are generally covered with a pent

roof. A light, narrow, supplementary roof is often seen projecting just

below the eaves of the main roof; it is generally made of wide thin boards

(_fig. 60_). This roof is called _hisashi._ It commonly shelters from the

sun and rain an open portion of the house or a verandah. It is either

supported by uprights from the ground, or by slender brackets which are

framed at right angles to the main uprights of the building proper. Weak

and even flimsy as this structure often appears to be, it manages to

support itself, in violation of all known laws of structure and

gravitation. After a heavy fall of damp snow one may see thick

accumulations covering these slight roofs, and yet a ride through the city

reveals no evidences of their breaking down. One recalls similar

structures at home yielding under like pressure, and wonders whether

gravitation behaves differently in this land of anomalies.

[Fig. 60.—Hisashi.]

Fig. 60.—Hisashi.

In the ordinary shingled roof a light boarding is first nailed to the

rafters, and upon this the shingles are secured in close courses. The

shingles are always split, and are very thin,—being about the thickness of

an ordinary octavo book‐cover, and not much larger in size, and having the

same thickness throughout. They come in square bunches (_fig. 61_, A),

each bunch containing about two hundred and twenty shingles, and costing

about forty cents.

Bamboo pins, resembling attenuated shoe‐pegs, are used as shingle‐nails.

The shingler takes a mouthful of these pegs, and with quick motions works

precisely and in the same rapid manner as a similar class of workmen do at

home. The shingler’s hammer is a curious implement (_fig. 61_, B, C). The

iron portion is in the shape of a square block, with its roughened face

nearly on a level with its handle. Near the end of the handle, and below,

is inserted an indented strip of brass (_fig. 61_, B). The shingler in

grasping the handle brings the thumb and forfinger opposite the strip of

brass; he takes a peg from his mouth with the same hand with which he

holds the hammer, and with the thumb and forefinger holding the peg

against the brass strip (_fig. 62_), he forces it into the shingle by a

pushing blow. By this movement the peg is forced half‐way down; an oblique

blow is then given it with the hammer‐head, which bends the protruding

portion of the peg against the shingle,—this broken‐down portion

representing the head of our shingle‐nail. The bamboo being tough and

fibrous can easily be broken down without separating. In this way is the

shingle held to the roof. The hammer‐handle has marked upon it the smaller

divisions of a carpenter’s measure, so that the courses of shingles may be

properly aligned. The work is done very rapidly,—for with one hand the

shingle is adjusted, while the other hand is busily driving the pegs.

[Fig. 61.—Bunch of shingles, nails, and hammer.]

Fig. 61.—Bunch of shingles, nails, and hammer.

[Fig. 62.—Shingler’s Hand.]

Fig. 62.—Shingler’s Hand.

[Fig. 63.—Bamboo Strips on Shingle‐Roof.]

Fig. 63.—Bamboo Strips on Shingle‐Roof.

That the shingles are not always held firmly to the roof by this method of

shingling is seen in the fact that oftentimes long narrow strips of bamboo

are nailed obliquely across the roof, from the ridge‐pole to the eaves

(_fig. 63_). These strips are placed at the distance of eighteen inches or

two feet apart. Yet even in spite of this added precaution, in violent

gales the roof is often rapidly denuded of its shingles, which fill the

air at such times like autumn leaves.

_Fig. 64, A_, represents a portion of a shingled roof with courses of

shingles partially laid, and a shingler’s nail‐box held to the roof. The

box has two compartments,—the larger compartment holding the bamboo pegs;

and the smaller containing iron nails, used for nailing down the boards

and for other purposes.

There are other methods of shingling, in which the courses of shingles are

laid very closely together, and also in many layers. Remarkable examples

of this method may be seen in some of the temple roofs, and particularly

in the roofs of certain temple gateways in Kioto, where layers of the

thinnest shingles, forming a mass a foot or more in thickness, are

compactly laid, with the many graceful contours of the roof delicately

preserved. The edges of the roof are beautifully rounded, and the eaves

squarely and accurately trimmed. On seeing one of these roofs one is

reminded of a thatched roof, which this style seems evidently intended to

imitate. The rich brown bark of the _hi‐no‐ki_ tree is also used in a

similar way; and a very compact and durable roof it appears to make. In

better shingled house‐roofs it is customary to secure a wedge‐shaped piece

of wood parallel to the eaves, to which the first three or four rows of

shingles are nailed; other courses of shingles are then laid on very

closely, and thus a thicker layer of shingles is secured (_fig. 64_, B).

[Fig. 64.—Roof with shingles partly laid.]

Fig. 64.—Roof with shingles partly laid.

But little variety of treatment of the ridge is seen in a shingled roof.

Two narrow weather‐strips of wood nailed over the ridge answer the purpose

of a joint, as is customary in our shingled roofs. A more thorough way is

to nail thin strips of wood of a uniform length directly over the ridge

and at right angles to it. These strips are thin enough to bend readily.

Five or six layers are fastened in this way, and then, more firmly to

secure them to the roof, two long narrow strips of wood or bamboo are

nailed near the two edges of this mass, parallel to the ridge (_fig. 65_).

[Fig. 65.—Ridge on shingle‐roof in Musashi.]

Fig. 65.—Ridge on shingle‐roof in Musashi.

The shingled roof is the most dangerous element of house‐structure in the

cities. The shingles are nothing more than thick shavings, and curved and

warped by the sun are ready to spring into a blaze by the contact of the

first spark that falls upon them, and then to be sent flying by a high

wind to scatter the fire for miles. A very stringent law should be passed,

prohibiting the use of such material for roofing in cities and large

villages.

[Fig. 66.—Water‐conductor.]

Fig. 66.—Water‐conductor.

The usual form of gutter for conveying water from the roof consists of a

large bamboo split lengthwise, with the natural partitions broken away.

This is held to the eaves by iron hooks, or by long pieces of wood nailed

to the rafters,—their upper edges being notched, in which the bamboo

rests. This leads to a conductor, consisting also of a bamboo, in which

the natural partitions have likewise been broken through. The upper end of

this bamboo is cut away in such a manner as to leave four long spurs;

between these spurs a square and tapering tunnel of thin wood is

forced,—the elasticity of the bamboo holding the tunnel in place (_fig.

66_).

Attention has so often been drawn, in books of travels, to the infinite

variety of ways in which Eastern nations use the bamboo, that any

reference to the subject here would be superfluous. I can only say that

the importance of this wonderful plant in their domestic economy has never

been exaggerated. The more one studies the ethnographical peculiarities of

the Japanese, as displayed in their houses, utensils, and countless other

fabrications, the more fully is he persuaded that they could more easily

surrender the many devices and appliances adopted from European nations,

than to abandon the ubiquitous bamboo.

In tiling a roof, the boarded roof is first roughly and thinly shingled,

and upon this surface is then spread a thick layer of mud, into which the

tiles are firmly bedded. The mud is scooped up from some ditch or moat,

and is also got from the canals. In the city one often sees men getting

the mud for this purpose from the deep gutters which border many of the

streets. This is kneaded and worked with hoe and spade till it acquires

the consistency of thick dough. In conveying this mass to the roof no hod

is used. The material is worked into large lumps by the laborer, and these

are tossed, one after another, to a man who stands on a staging or ladder,

who in turn pitches it to the man on the roof, or, if the roof be high, to

another man on a still higher staging. The mud having been got to the

roof, is then spread over it in a thick and even layer. Into this the

tiles are then bedded, row after row. There seems to be no special

adhesion of the tiles to this substratum of mud, and high gales often

cause great havoc to a roof of this nature. In the case of a

conflagration, when it becomes necessary to tear down buildings in its

path, the firemen appear to have no difficulty in shovelling the tiles off

a roof with ease and rapidity.

[Fig. 67.—Ridge of tiled roof.]

Fig. 67.—Ridge of tiled roof.

The ridge‐pole often presents an imposing combination of tiles and plaster

piled up in square ridges and in many ornamental ways. In a hip‐roof the

four ridges are also made thick and ponderous by successive layers of

tiles being built up, and forming great square ribs. In large fire‐proof

buildings the ridge may be carried up to a height of three or four feet.

In such ridges white plaster is freely used, not only as a cement, but as

a medium in which the artist works out various designs in high‐relief. One

of the most favorite subjects selected is that of dashing and foaming

waves. A great deal of art and skill is often displayed in the working out

of this design,—which is generally very conventional, though at times

great freedom of expression is shown in the work. It certainly seems an

extraordinary design for the crest of a roof, though giving a very light

and buoyant appearance to what would otherwise appear top‐heavy. _Fig. 67_

is a very poor sketch of the appearance of this kind of a ridge. From the

common occurrence of this design, it would seem as if some sentiment or

superstition led to using this watery subject as suggesting a protection

from fire; whether this be so or not, one may often notice at the end of

the ridge in the thatched roofs in the country the Chinese character for

water deeply cut in the straw and blackened (_fig. 82_),—and this custom,

I was told, originated in a superstition that the character for water

afforded a protection against fire.

[Fig. 68.—Ornamental coping of tiles.]

Fig. 68.—Ornamental coping of tiles.

[Fig. 69.—Ornamental coping of tiles.]

Fig. 69.—Ornamental coping of tiles.

[Fig. 70.—Ornamental coping of tiles.]

Fig. 70.—Ornamental coping of tiles.

The tiled ridges always terminate in a shouldered mass of tiles specially

designed for the purpose. The smaller ribs of tiles that run down to the

eaves, along the ridges in a hip‐roof, or border the verge in a gable‐

roof, often terminate in some ornamental tile in high‐relief. The design

may be that of a mask, the head of a devil, or some such form. In the

heavier ridges much ingenuity and art are shown in the arrangement of

semi‐cylindrical or other shaped tiles in conventional pattern. Figs. 68,

69, 70 will illustrate some of the designs made in this way. These

figures, however, represent copings of walls in Yamato.

Many of the heavier ridges are deceptive, the main body consisting of a

frame of wood plastered over, and having the appearance externally of

being a solid mass of tile and plaster The tiles that border the eaves are

specially designed for the purpose. The tile has the form of the ordinary

tile, but its free edge is turned down at right angles and ornamented with

some conventional design. _Fig. 71_ illustrates this form of tile. In the

long panel a design of flowers or conventional scrolls in relief is often

seen. The circular portion generally contains the crest of some family:

the crest of the Tokugawa family is rarely seen on tiles (see _fig. 73_).

In the better class of tiled roof it is common to point off with white

mortar the joints between the rows of tiles near the eaves, and also next

the ridge; and oftentimes the entire roof is treated in this manner. In

some photographs of Korean houses taken by Percival Lowell, Esq., the same

method of closing the seams of the bordering rows of tiles with white

plaster is shown.

[Fig. 71.—Eaves of tiled roof.]

Fig. 71.—Eaves of tiled roof.

The older a tile is, the better it is considered for roofing purposes. My

attention was called to this fact by a friend stating to me with some

pride that the tiles used in his house, just constructed, were over forty

years old. Second‐hand tiles therefore are always in greater demand. A new

tile, being very porous and absorbent, is not considered so good as one in

which time has allowed the dust and dirt to fill the minute interstices,

thus rendering it a better material for shedding water.

[Fig. 72.—Nagasaki tiled roof.]

Fig. 72.—Nagasaki tiled roof.

A tiled roof cannot be very expensive, as one finds it very common in the

cities and larger villages. The price of good tiles for roofing purposes

is five _yen_ for one hundred (one _yen_ at par equals one dollar). Cheap

ones can be got for from two and one‐half _yen_ to three _yen_ for one

hundred. In another measurement, a _tsulo_ of tiles, which covers an area

of six feet square; can be laid for from two and one‐half to three _yen_.

The form of tile varies in different parts of Japan. The tile in common

use in Nagasaki (_fig. 72_, _A)_ is similar in form to those used in

China, Korea, Singapore, and Europe. These tiles are slightly curved, and

are laid with their convex surface downwards. Another form of tile,

narrower and semi‐cylindrical in section, is laid with its convex side

upwards, covering the seams between the lower rows of tiles.

[Fig. 73.—Hon‐gawara, or True Tile.]

Fig. 73.—Hon‐gawara, or True Tile.

[Fig. 74.—Yedo‐gawara, or Yedo‐tile eaves.]

Fig. 74.—Yedo‐gawara, or Yedo‐tile eaves.

This is evidently the most ancient form of tile in the East, and in Japan

is known by the name of _hon‐gawara,_ or true tile. _Fig. 73_ represents

the form of the _hon‐gawara_ used in Tokio.

[Fig. 75.—French tile eaves.]

Fig. 75.—French tile eaves.

The most common form of tile used in Tokio is represented in _fig. 71_,

called the _yedo‐gawara,_ or _yedo_ tile. With this tile the upper convex

tile is dispensed with, as the tile is constructed in such a way as to lap

over the edge of the one next to it. _Fig. 74_ illustrates the eaves of a

roof in which a _yedo_ tile is used, having the bordering tiles differing

in form from those shown in _fig. 71_. A modification of this form is seen

farther south in Japan (fig. 72, B), and also in Java.

[Fig. 76.—Itami tile for ridge.]

Fig. 76.—Itami tile for ridge.

A new form of tile, called the French tile, has been introduced into Tokio

within a few years (_fig. 75_). It is not in common use, however; and I

can recall only a few buildings roofed with this tile. These are the

warehouses of the Mitsu Bishi Steamship Company near the post‐office, a

building back of the Art Museum at Uyeno, and a few private houses.

Other forms of tiles are made for special purposes. In the province of

Iwami, for example, a roof‐shaped tile is made specially for covering the

ridge of thatched roofs (_fig. 76_, A). The true tile is also used for the

same purpose (fig. 76, B).

In this province the tiles are glazed,—the common tiles being covered with

a brown glaze, while the best tiles are glazed with iron sand. In digging

the foundations for a library building at Uyeno Park, a number of large

glazed tiles were dug up which were supposed to have been brought from the

province of Bizen two hundred years ago. These were of the _hon‐gawara_

pattern.

[Fig. 77.—Stone roof.]

Fig. 77.—Stone roof.

In the province of Shimotsuke, and doubtless in adjacent provinces, stone

_kura_ (fire‐proof store‐houses) are seen; and these buildings often have

roofs of the same material. The stone appears to be a light‐gray volcanic

tufa, and is easily wrought. The slabs of stone covering the roof are

wrought into definite shapes, so that the successive rows overlap and

interlock in a way that gives the appearance of great solidity and

strength. _Fig. 77_ illustrates a portion of a roof of this description

seen on the road to Nikko. I was told by a Korean friend that stone roofs

were also to be found in the northern part of Korea, though whether made

in this form could not be ascertained.

The thatched roof is by far the most common form of roof in Japan, outside

the cities. The slopes of the roof vary but little; but in the design and

structure of the ridge the greatest variety of treatment is seen. South of

Tokio each province seems to have its own peculiar style of ridge; at

least, as the observant traveller passes from one province to another his

attention is attracted by a new form of ridge, which though occasionally

seen in other provinces appears to be characteristic of that particular

province. This is probably due to the partially isolated life of the

provinces in feudal times; for the same may be said also in regard to the

pottery and many other products of the provinces.

For thatching, various materials are employed. For the commonest

thatching, straw is used; better kinds of thatch are made of a grass

called _Kaya._ A kind of reed called _yoshi_ is used for this purpose, and

also certain species of rush. The roof requires no special preparation to

receive the thatch, save that the rafters and frame‐work shall be close

enough together properly to secure and support it. If the roof be small, a

bamboo frame‐work is sufficient for the purpose.

The thatch is formed in suitable masses, combed with the fingers and

otherwise arranged so that the straws all point in the same direction.

These masses are then secured to the rafters and bound down to the roof by

bamboo poles (_fig. 78_, A), which are afterwards removed. While the

thatch is bound down in this way it is beaten into place by a wooden

mallet of peculiar shape (fig. 78, B). The thatch is then trimmed into

shape by a pair of long‐handled shears (fig. 78, C) similar to the shears

used for trimming grass in our country.

This is only the barest outline of the process of thatching; there are

doubtless many other processes which I did not see. Suffice it to say,

however, that when a roof is finished it presents a clean, trim, and

symmetrical appearance, which seems surprising when the nature of the

material is considered. The eaves are trimmed off square or slightly

rounding, and often very thick,—being sometimes two feet or more in

thickness. This does not indicate, however, that the thatch is of the same

thickness throughout. The thatch trimmed in these various ways is thus

seen in section, and one will often notice in this section successive

layers of light and dark thatch. Whether it is old thatch worked in with

the new for the sake economy, or different kinds of thatching material, I

did not ascertain.

In old roofs the thatch becomes densely filled with soot and dust, and

workmen engaged in repairing such roofs have the appearance of coal‐

heavers. While a good deal of skill and patience is required to thatch a

roof evenly and properly, vastly more skill must be required to finish the

ridge, which is often very intricate in its structure; and of these

peculiar ridges there are a number of prominent types. In presenting these

types, more reliance will be placed on the sketches to convey a general

idea of their appearance than on descriptions.

[Fig. 78.—Thatch, and thatcher’s implements.]

Fig. 78.—Thatch, and thatcher’s implements.

In that portion of Japan lying north of Tokio the ridge is much more

simple in its construction than are those found in the southern part of

the Empire. The roofs are larger, but their ridges, with some exceptions,

do not show the artistic features, or that variety in form and appearance,

that one sees in the ridges of the southern thatched roof. In many cases

the ridge is flat, and this area is made to support a luxuriant growth of

_iris,_ or the red lily (_fig. 41_). A most striking feature is often seen

in the appearance of a brown sombre‐colored village, wherein all the

ridges are aflame with the bright‐red blossoms of the lily; or farther

south, near Tokio, where the purer colors of the blue and white iris form

floral crests of exceeding beauty.

[Fig. 79.—End of roof in Fujita, Iwaki.]

Fig. 79.—End of roof in Fujita, Iwaki.

In some cases veritable ridge‐poles, with their ends freely projecting

beyond the gable and wrought in a gentle upward curve, are seen (_fig.

39_). This treatment of the free ends of beams in ridge‐poles, gateways,

and other structures, notably in certain forms of _tori‐i_(9) is a common

feature in Japanese architecture, and is effective in giving a light and

buoyant appearance to what might otherwise appear heavy and commonplace.

At Fujita, in Iwaki, and other places in that region, a roof is often seen

which shows the end of a round ridge‐pole projecting through the thatch at

the gable‐peak; and at this point a flat spur of wood springs up from the

ridge, to which is attached, at right angles, a structure made of plank

and painted black, which projects two feet or more beyond the gable. This

appears to be a survival of an exterior ridge‐pole, and is retained from

custom. Its appearance, however, is decidedly flimsy and insecure, and

from its weak mode of attachment it must be at the mercy of every high

gale (_fig. 79_). After getting south of Sendai, ridges composed of tile

are often to be seen,—becoming more common as one approaches Tokio. The

construction of this kind of ridge is very simple and effective; semi‐

cylindrical tiles, or the wider forms of _hon‐gawara,_ are used for the

crest, and these in turn cap a row of similar tiles placed on either side

of the ridge (fig. 80). The tiles appear to be bedded in a layer of clay

or mud and chopped straw, which is first piled on to the thatched ridge.

In some cases a large bamboo holds the lower row of tiles in place (_fig.

81_). What other means there are of holding the tiles I did not learn.

They must be fairly secure, however, as it is rare to see them displaced,

even in old roofs.

[Fig. 80.—Tiled ridge of thatched roof in Iwaki.]

Fig. 80.—Tiled ridge of thatched roof in Iwaki.

[Fig. 81.—Tiled ridge of thatched roof in Musashi. ]

Fig. 81.—Tiled ridge of thatched roof in Musashi.

A very neat and durable ridge (_fig. 82_) is common in Musashi and

neighboring provinces. This ridge is widely rounded. It is first covered

with a layer of small bamboos; then narrow bands of bamboo or bark are

bent over the ridge at short intervals, and these are kept in place by

long bamboo‐strips or entire bamboos, which run at intervals parallel to

the ridge. These are firmly bound down to the thatch. In some cases these

outer bamboos form a continuous layer. The ends of the ridge, showing a

mass of projecting thatch in section, are abruptly cut vertically, and the

free border is rounded in a bead‐like moulding and closely bound by

bamboo, appearing like the edge of a thick basket. This finish is done in

the most thorough and workman‐like manner. It is upon the truncate end of

this kind of a ridge that the Chinese character for water is often seen,

allusion to which has already been made.

[Fig. 82.—Bamboo‐ridge of thatched roof in Musashi.]

Fig. 82.—Bamboo‐ridge of thatched roof in Musashi.

When there is no window at the end of the roof for the egress of smoke,

the roof comes under the class of hip‐roofs. In the northern provinces the

opening for the smoke is built in various ways upon the ridge or side of

the roof. By referring to figs. 39, 40, 41, various methods of providing

for this window may be seen.

Smoke‐outlets do occur at the ends of the roof in the north, as may be

seen by referring to _fig. 44_. The triangular opening for the outlet of

smoke is a characteristic feature of the thatched roofs south of Tokio; on

some of them a great deal of study and skill is bestowed by the architect

and builder. Sometimes an additional gable is seen, with its triangular

window (_fig. 83_). This sketch represents the roof of a gentleman’s house

near Tokio, and is a most beautiful example of the best form of thatched

roof in Musashi. Another grand old roof of a different type is shown in

fig. 84. Where these triangular windows occur the opening is protected by

a lattice of wood. The roof partakes of the double nature of a gable and

hip roof combined,—the window being in the gable part, from the base of

which runs the slope of the hip‐roof.

[Fig. 83.—Thatched Roof, near Tokio.]

Fig. 83.—Thatched Roof, near Tokio.(10)

Great attention is given to the proper and symmetrical trimming of the

thatch at the eaves and at the edges of the gable. By referring to figs.

83 and 84 some idea may be got of the clever way in which this is managed.

Oftentimes, at the peak of the gable, a cone‐like enlargement with a

circular depression is curiously shaped out of the thatch (_fig. 84_). A

good deal of skill is also shown in bringing the thick edges of the eaves,

which are on different levels, together in graceful curves. An example of

this kind may be seen in _fig. 39_.

[Fig. 84.—Thatched roof, near Tokio.]

Fig. 84.—Thatched roof, near Tokio.

In Musashi a not uncommon form of ridge is seen, in which there is an

external ridge‐pole wrought like the upper transverse beam of a _tori‐i._

This beam has a vertical thickness of twice or three times its width;

resting transversely upon it, and at short intervals, are a number of

wooden structures shaped like the letter X,—the lower ends of these pieces

resting on the slopes of the roof, the upper ends projecting above the

ridgepole. The ridge at this point is matted with bark; and running

parallel with the ridge a few bamboos are fastened, upon which these

cross‐beams rest, and to which they are secured (_fig. 45_).

Modifications of this form of ridge occur in a number of southern

provinces, and ridges very similar to this I saw in Saigon and Cholon, in

Anam. The curious Shin‐tō temple, at Kamijiyama, in Ise, said to be

modelled after very ancient types of roof, has the end‐rafters of the

gable continuing through the roof and beyond the peak to a considerable

distance. It was interesting to see precisely the same features in some of

the Malay houses in the neighborhood of Singapore. In Musashi, and farther

south, a ridge is seen of very complex structure,—the entire ridge forming

a kind of supplementary roof, its edges thick and squarely trimmed, and

presenting the appearance of a smaller roof having been made independently

and dropped upon the large roof like a saddle. This style of roof, with

many modifications, is very common in Yamashiro, Mikawa, and neighboring

provinces. A very elaborate roof of this description is shown in _fig.

85_. This roof was sketched in Kabutoyama, a village nearly fifty miles

west of Tokio. In this ridge the appearance of a supplementary roof is

rendered more apparent by the projection beneath of what appears to be a

ridge‐pole, and also parallel sticks of the roof proper. This roof had a

remarkably picturesque and substantial appearance. This style of roof is

derived from temple architecture.

[Fig. 85.—Ridge of thatched roof at Kabutoyama, Musashi.]

Fig. 85.—Ridge of thatched roof at Kabutoyama, Musashi.

A very simple form of ridge is common in the province of Omi; this is made

of thin pieces of board, three feet or more in length, secured on each

slope of the roof and at right angles to the ridge; and these are bound

down by long strips of wood, two resting across the ridge, and another

strip resting on the lower edge of the boards (_fig. 86_). In the

provinces of Omi and Owari tiled ridges are often seen, and some ridges in

which wood and tile are combined. At Takatsuki‐mura, in Setsu, a curious

ridge prevails. The ridge is very steep, and is covered by a close mat of

bamboo, with saddles of tiles placed at intervals along the ridge (fig.

87). A very picturesque form of ridge occurs in the province of Mikawa;

the roof is a hip‐roof, with the ridge‐roof having a steep slope trimmed

off squarely at the eaves. On this portion strips of brown bark are placed

across the ridge, resting on the slopes of the roof; a number of bamboos

rest on the bark, parallel to the ridge; on the top of these, stout, semi‐

cylindrical saddles, sometimes sheathed with bark, rest across the ridge,

with an interspace of three or four feet between them. _Fig. 88_

represents a roof with three of these saddles, which is the usual number.

These saddles are firmly bound to the roof, and on their crests and

directly over the ridge a long bamboo is secured by a black‐fibred cord,

which is tied to the ridge between each saddle. The smoke‐outlet at the

end of the ridge‐gable is protected by a mass of straw hanging down from

the apex of the window, in shape and appearance very much like a Japanese

straw rain‐coat. The smoke filters out through this curtain, though the

rain cannot beat in.

[Fig. 86.—Crest of thatched roof in Omi.]

Fig. 86.—Crest of thatched roof in Omi.

[Fig. 87.—Tile and bamboo ridge of thatched roof, Takatsuki, Setsu.]

Fig. 87.—Tile and bamboo ridge of thatched roof, Takatsuki, Setsu.

Roofs of a somewhat similar construction may be seen in other provinces.

In the suburbs of Kioto a form of roof and ridge, after a similar design,

may be often seen. In this form the supplementary roof is more sharply

defined; the corners of it are slightly turned up as in the temple‐roof.

To be more definite, the main roof, which is a hip‐roof, has built upon it

a low upper‐roof, which is a gable; and upon this rests, like a separate

structure, a continuous saddle of thatch, having upon its back a few

bamboos running longitudinally, and across the whole a number of thick

narrow saddles of thatch sheathed with bark, and over all a long bamboo

bound to the ridge with cords (_fig. 89_). These roofs, broad and thick

eaved, with their deep‐set, heavily latticed smoke‐windows, and the warm

brown thatch, form a pleasing contrast to the thin‐shingled roofs of the

poorer neighboring houses.

[Fig. 88.—Crest of thatched roof in Mikawa.]

Fig. 88.—Crest of thatched roof in Mikawa.

[Fig. 89.—Crest of thatched roof in Kioto.]

Fig. 89.—Crest of thatched roof in Kioto.

Another form of Mikawa roof, very simple and plain in structure, is shown

in _fig. 90_. Here the ridge‐roof is covered with a continuous sheathing

of large bamboos, with rafter‐poles at the ends coming through the thatch

and projecting beyond the peak.

In the provinces of Kii and Yamato the forms of ridges are generally very

simple. In one form, common in the province of Kii, the ridge‐roof, which

has a much sharper incline than the roof proper, is covered with bark,

this being bound down by parallel strips, or whole rods of bamboo; and

spanning the ridge at intervals are straw saddles sheathed with bark.

These are very narrow at the ridge, but widen at their extremities.

[Fig. 90.—Crest of thatched roof in Mikawa.]

Fig. 90.—Crest of thatched roof in Mikawa.

The smoke‐outlet is a small triangular opening (_fig. 91_). In the

province of Yamato there are two forms of roof very common. In one of

these the roof is a gable, the end‐walls, plastered with clay and chopped

straw, projecting above the roof a foot or more, and capped with a simple

row of tiles (_fig. 92_),—the ridge in this roof being made as in the last

one described. In another form of roof with a similar ridge, the thatch on

the slopes of the roof is trimmed in such a way as to present the

appearance of a series of thick layers, resting one upon another like

shingles, only each lap being eighteen inches to two feet apart, with

thick edges. It was interesting and curious to find in the ancient

province of Yamato this peculiar treatment of the slopes of a thatched

roof, precisely like certain roofs seen among the houses of the Ainos of

Yezo.

[Fig. 91.—Crest of thatched roof in Kii.]

Fig. 91.—Crest of thatched roof in Kii.

In the provinces of Totomi and Suruga a form of ridge was observed, unlike

any encountered elsewhere in Japan. The ridge‐roof was large and sharply

angular. Resting upon the thatch, from the ridge‐pole half way down to the

main roof, were bamboos placed side by side, parallel to the ridge. Upon

this layer of bamboos were wide saddles of bark a foot or more in length,

with an interspace of nearly two feet between each saddle, these reaching

down to the main roof. On each side of the ridge‐roof, and running

parallel to the ridge, were large bamboo poles resting on the saddles, and

bound down firmly with cords. On the sharp crest of the roof rested a long

round ridge‐pole. This pole was kept in place by wide bamboo slats, bent

abruptly into a yoke, in shape not unlike a pair of sugar‐tongs, and these

spanning the pole were thrust obliquely into the thatch. These were placed

in pairs and crosswise in the interspaces between the bark saddles. On the

ends of the ridge there were two bamboo yokes together. The sketch of this

roof (_fig. 93_) will give a much clearer idea of its appearance and

structure than any description. This style of roof was unique, and

appeared to be very strong and durable.

[Fig. 92.—Thatched roof in Totomi.]

Fig. 92.—Thatched roof in Totomi.

[Fig. 93.—Crest of thatched roof in Kii.]

Fig. 93.—Crest of thatched roof in Kii.

In the province of Ise a simple type of roof was seen (_fig. 94_). The

ridge‐roof was quite low, sheathed with bark and bound down with a number

of bamboos. At the gable were round masses of thatch covered with bark,

which formed an ornamental moulding at the verge.(11)

In the province of Osumi, on the eastern side of Kagoshima Gulf, the

vertical walls of the buildings are very low; but these support thatched

roofs of ponderous proportions. These roofs are somewhat steeper than the

northern roof, and their ridges are wide and bluntly rounded. The ends of

the ridge are finished with a wide matting of bamboo, and this material is

used in binding down the ridge itself (_fig. 54_).

There are doubtless many other forms of thatched roof, but it is believed

that the examples given present the leading types.

[Fig. 94.—Crest of thatched roof in Ise.]

Fig. 94.—Crest of thatched roof in Ise.

As one becomes familiar with the picturesqueness and diversity in the

Japanese roof and ridge, he wonders why the architects of our own country

have not seen fit to extend their taste and ingenuity to the roof, as well

as to the sides of the house. There is no reason why the ridge of an

ordinary wooden house should invariably be composed of two narrow weather‐

strips, or why the roof itself should always be stiff, straight, and

angular. Certainly our rigorous climate can be no excuse for this, for on

the upper St. John, and in the northern part of Maine, one sees the wooden

houses of the French Canadians having roofs widely projecting, with the

eaves gracefully turning upward, presenting a much prettier appearance

than does the stiff angular roof of the New England house.

It is indeed a matter of wonder that some one in building a house in this

country does not revert to a thatched roof. Our architectural history

shows an infinite number of reversions, and if a thatched roof were again

brought into vogue, a new charm would be added to our landscape. The

thatched roof is picturesque and warm, and makes a good rain‐shed. In

Japan an ordinary thatched roof will remain in good condition from fifteen

to twenty years; and I have been told that the best kinds of thatched roof

will endure for fifty years, though this seems incredible. As they get

weather‐worn they are often patched and repaired, and finally have to be

entirely renewed. Old roofs become filled with dust, assume a dark color,

and get matted down; plants, weeds, and mosses of various kinds grow upon

them, as well as masses of gray lichen. When properly constructed they

shed water very promptly, and do not get water‐soaked, as one might

suppose.

[Fig. 95.—Paved space under eaves of thatched roof.]

Fig. 95.—Paved space under eaves of thatched roof.

It is customary in the better class of houses having thatched roofs to

pave the ground with small cobble‐stones, for a breadth of two feet or

more immediately below the eaves, to catch the drip, as in a thatched roof

it is difficult to adjust any sort of a gutter or water‐conductor. Fig. 95

illustrates the appearance of the paved space about a house, the roof of

which is shown in _fig. 85_. It is customary in the better class of houses

having thatched roofs to pave the ground with small cobble‐stones, for a

breadth of two feet or more immediately below the eaves, to catch the

drip, as in a thatched roof it is difficult to adjust any sort of a gutter

or water‐conductor. _Fig. 95_ illustrates the appearance of the paved

space about a house, the roof of which is shown in _fig. 85_.

The translation of the terms applied to many parts of the house is quite

curious and interesting. The word _mune,_ signifying the ridge of the

house, has the same meaning as with us; the same word is applied to the

back of a sword and to the ridge of a mountain. In Korea the ridge of the

thatched roof is braided, or at least the thatch seems to be knotted or

braided at this point; and the Korean word for the ridge means literally

_back‐bone,_ from its resemblance to the back‐bone of a fish.

In Japan the roof of a house is called _yane._ Now, _yane_ literally means

_house‐root;_ but how such a term could be applied to the roof is a

mystery. I have questioned many intelligent Japanese in regard to this

word, and have never received any satisfactory answer as to the reason of

its application to the roof of a house. A Korean friend has suggested that

the name might have been applied through association: a tree without a

root dies, and a house without a roof decays. He also told me that the

Chinese character _ne_ meant origin.

In Korea the foundation of a house is called the foot of the house, and

the foundation stones are called shoe‐stones.

The Japanese word for ceiling is _ten‐jō,_—literally, “heaven’s well.” It

is an interesting fact that the root of both words, _ceiling_ and _ten‐

jō,_ means “heaven.”