Having got a glimpse, and a slight glimpse only, of the ancient house in
Japan, it may be of interest to consider briefly the character of the
house in neighboring islands forming part of the Japanese Empire, and also
of the house in that country which comes nearest to Japan (Korea), and
from which country in the past there have been many both peaceful and
compulsory invasions,—compulsory in the fact that when Hideyoshi returned
from Korea, nearly three hundred years ago, after his great invasion of
that country, he brought back with him to Japan colonies of potters and
other artisans.
The Ainos of Yezo naturally claim our attention first, because it is
believed that they were the aboriginal people of Japan proper, and were
afterwards displaced by the Japanese,—a displacement similar to that of
our North American savages by the English colonists. Whether the Ainos are
autochthonous or not, will not be discussed here. That they are a savage
race, without written language,—a race which formerly occupied the
northern part of the main island of Japan, and were gradually forced back
to Yezo, where they still live in scattered communities,—are facts which
are unquestionable. How far the Aino house to‐day represents the ancient
Aino house, and how many features of the Japanese house are engrafted upon
it, are points difficult to determine.
The Ainos that I saw in the Ishikari valley, on the west coast of Yezo,
and from Shiraoi south on the east coast, all spoke Japanese, ate out of
lacquer bowls, used chop‐sticks, smoked small pipes, drank _sake,_ and
within their huts possessed lacquer boxes and other conveniences in which
to stow away their clothing, which had probably been given them in past
times by the Japanese, and which were heirlooms. On the other hand, they
retained their own language, their long, narrow dug‐out; used the small
bow, the poisoned arrow, and had an arrow‐release of their own; adhered to
their ancestral forms of worship and their peculiar methods of design, and
were quite as persistent in clinging to many of their customs as are our
own Western tribes of Indians. That they are susceptible to change is seen
in the presence of a young Aino at the normal school in Tokio, from whom I
derived some interesting facts concerning archery.
[Fig. 306.—Aino house, Yezo.]
Fig. 306.—Aino house, Yezo.
Briefly, the Aino house, as I saw it, consists of a rude frame‐work of
timber supporting a thatched roof; the walls being made up of reeds and
rush interwoven with stiffer cross‐pieces. Within, there is a single room
the dimensions of the house. In most houses there is an L, in which is the
doorway, which may in some cases be covered with a rude porch. The
thatched roof is well made and quite picturesque, differing somewhat in
form from any thatched roof among the Japanese,—though in Yamato, as
already mentioned, I saw features in the slope of the roof quite similar
to those shown in some of the Aino roofs.
[Fig. 307.—Aino house, Yezo.]
Fig. 307.—Aino house, Yezo.
Entering the house by the low door, one comes into a room so dark that it
is with difficulty one can see anything. The inmates light rolls of birch‐
bark that one may be enabled to see the interior; but every appearance of
neatness and picturesqueness which the hut presented from without vanishes
when one gets inside. Beneath one’s feet is a hard, damp, earth floor;
directly above are the blackened and soot‐covered rafters. Poles supported
horizontally from these rafters are equally greasy and blackened, and
pervading the darkness is a dirty and strong fishy odor. In the middle of
the floor, and occupying considerable space, is a square area,—the
fireplace. On its two sides mats are spread. A pot hangs over the smoke,
for there appears to be but little fire; and at one side is a large bowl
containing the remains of the last meal, consisting apparently of fish‐
bones,—large sickly‐looking bones, the sight of which instantly vitiates
one’s appetite. The smoke, rebuffed at the only opening save the door,—a
small square opening close under the low eaves,—struggles to escape
through a small opening in the angle of the roof. On one side of the room
is a slightly raised floor of boards, upon which are mats, lacquer‐boxes,
bundles of nets, and a miscellaneous assortment of objects. Hanging from
the rafters and poles are bows, quivers of arrows, Japanese daggers
mounted on curious wooden tablets inlaid with lead, slices of fish and
skates’ heads in various stages, not of decomposition, as the odors would
seem to imply, but of smoke preservation. Dirt everywhere, and fleas. And
in the midst of the darkness, smoke, and squalor are the inmates,—quiet,
demure, and gentle to the last degree. Figs. 306 and 307 give an idea of
the appearance of two Aino houses of the better kind, but perhaps cannot
be taken as a type of the Aino house farther north on the island.
Let us now glance at the house of the natives of the Hachijô Islanders, as
described by Mr. Dickins and Mr. Satow.(37) From their communication the
following account is taken:—
“As may readily be supposed, there are no shops or inns on the island, but
fair accommodation for travellers can be obtained at the farmers’ houses.
These are for the most part substantially‐built cottages of two or three
rooms, with a spacious kitchen, constructed with the timber of _Quercus
cuspidata,_ and with plank walls, where on the mainland it is usual to
have plastered wattles. The roof is invariably of thatch, with a very high
pitch,—necessitated, we were told, by the extreme dampness of the climate,
which renders it desirable to allow as little rain as possible to soak
into the straw. Many of the more prosperous farmers have a second
building, devoted to the rearing of silkworms, which takes its name
_(kaiko‐ya)_ from the purpose to which it is destined. There are also
sheds for cattle, usually consisting of a thatched roof resting on walls
formed of rough stone‐work. Lastly, each enclosure possesses a wooden
godown, raised some four feet from the ground on stout wooden posts,
crowned with broad caps, to prevent the mice from gaining an entrance. The
style resembles that of the storehouses constructed by the Ainos and
Loochooans.”
“The house and vegetable‐garden belonging to it are usually surrounded by
a stone wall, or rather bank of stones and earth, often six feet high,
designed to protect the buildings from the violent gales which at certain
seasons sweep over the island, and which, as we learned, frequently do
serious injury to the rice‐fields by the quantity of salt spray which they
carry a long distance inland from the shore.”
From this general description of the house which incidentally accompanies
a very interesting sketch of the physical peculiarities of the island, its
geology, botany, and the customs and dialect of the people, we get no idea
of the special features the house,—as to the fireplace or bed‐place;
whether there be _shōji_ or ordinary windows, matted floor, or any of
those details which would render a comparison with the Japanese house of
value.
As Mr. Satow found in the language of the Hachijô Islander a number of
words which appeared to be survivals of archaic Japanese, and also among
their customs the curious one, which existed up to within very recent
times, of erecting parturition houses,—a feature which is alluded to in
the very earliest records of Japan,—a minute description of the Hachijô
house with sketches might possibly lead to some facts of interest.
The Loochoo, or Riukiu Islands, now known as Okinawa Shima, lie nearly
midway between the southern part of Japan and the Island of Formosa. The
people of this group differ but little from the Japanese,—their language,
according to Mr. Satow and Mr. Brunton, having in it words that appear
obsolete in Japan. In many customs there is a curious admixture of Chinese
and Japanese ways; and Mr. Brunton sees in the Loochooan bridge and other
structures certain resemblances to Chinese methods.
The following extract regarding the house of the Loochooans is taken from
an account of a visit to these islands, by Ernest Satow, Esq., published
in the first volume of the “Transactions of the Asiatic Society of
Japan:”—
“The houses of the Loochooans are built in Japanese fashion, with
the floor raised three or four feet from the ground, and have
mostly only one story, on account of the violent winds which
prevail. They are roofed with tiles of a Chinese fashion, very
strong and thick. The buildings in which they store their rice are
built of wood and thatched with straw. They are supported on
wooden posts about five feet high, and resemble the granaries of
the Ainos, though constructed with much greater care.”
Another extract is here given in regard to the house of the Loochooans, by
R. H. Brunton, Esq., published in the “Transactions of the Asiatic Society
of Japan(38) ”:—
The streets in the towns present a most desolate appearance. On
each side of these is a blank stone wall of about ten or twelve
feet high, with openings in them here and there sufficiently wide
to admit of access to the houses which are behind. Every house is
surrounded by a wall, and from the street they convey the
impression of being prisons rather than ordinary dwellings…
“The houses of the well‐to‐do classes are situated in a yard which
is surrounded by a wall ten or twelve feet high, as has been
already mentioned. They are similar to the ordinary Japanese
houses, with raised floors laid with mats and sliding screens of
paper. They are built of wood, and present no peculiar differences
from the Japanese style of construction. The roofs are laid with
tiles, which however are quite different in shape from the
Japanese tiles. Over the joint between two concave tiles a convex
one is laid, and these are all semi‐circular in cross sections.
The tiles are made at Nafa, and are red in color; they appeared of
good quality. The houses of the poorer classes are of very
primitive character. The roof is covered with a thick thatch, and
is supported by four corner uprights about five feet high. The
walls consist of sheets of a species of netting made of small
bamboo, which contain between them a thickness of about six inches
of straw. This encloses the whole sides of the house,—a width of
about two feet being left in one side as an entrance. There is no
flooring in the houses of any description, and there is generally
laid over the mud inside a mat, on which the inmates lie or sit.”
Considering the presence for so many centuries of strong Chinese influence
which Mr. Brunton sees in the Loochooans, it is rather surprising to find
so many features of the Japanese house present in their dwellings. Indeed,
Mr. Brunton goes so far as to say that the Loochooan house presents no
peculiar differences from the Japanese style of construction; and as he
has paid special attention to the constructive features of Japanese
buildings, we must believe that had differences existed they would have
been noted by him.
It seems to me that the wide distribution of certain identical features in
Japanese house‐structure, from the extreme north of Japan to the Loochoo
Islands, is something remarkable. Here is a people who for centuries lived
almost independent provincial lives, the northern and southern provinces
speaking different dialects, even the character of the people varying, and
yet from Awomori in the north to the southernmost parts of Satsuma, and
even farther south to the Loochoos, the use of _fusuma, shōji,_ mats, and
thin wood‐ceilings seems well‐nigh universal. The store‐houses standing on
four posts are referred to in the description of the Hachijô Islanders as
well as in that of the Loochooans as resembling those constructed by the
Ainos; yet these resemblances must not be taken as indicating a community
of origin, but simply as the result of necessity. For travellers in
Kamtchatka, and farther west, speak of the same kind of store‐houses; and
farther south they may be seen in Singapore and Java,—in fact, in every
country town in New England; and indeed all over the United States the
same kind of storehouse is seen. Probably all over the world a store‐house
on four legs, even to the inverted box or pan on each leg, may be found.
Through the courtesy of Percival Lowell, Esq., I am enabled to see
advanced sheets of his work on Korea, entitled “The Land of the Morning
Calm;” and from this valuable work the author has permitted me to gather
many interesting facts concerning the Korean dwellings. The houses are of
one story; a flight of two or three steps leads to a narrow piazza, or
very wide sill, which encircles the entire building. The apartment within
is only limited by the size of the building; in other words, there is only
one room under the roof. The better class of dwellings, however, consist
of groups of these buildings. The house is of wood, and rests upon a stone
foundation. This foundation consists of a series of connecting chambers,
or flues; and at one side is a large fireplace, or oven, in which the fire
is built. The products of combustion circulate through this labyrinth of
chambers, and find egress, not by a chimney, but by an outlet on the
opposite side. In this way the room above is warmed. There are three
different types of this oven‐like foundation. In the best type a single
slab of stone is supported by a number of stout stone pillars; upon this
stone floor is spread a layer of earth, and upon this earth is spread oil‐
paper like a carpet. In another arrangement, ridges of earth and small
stones run lengthwise from front to back; on top of this the same
arrangement is made of stone, earth, and oil‐paper. In the third type,
representing a still poorer class, the oven and flues are hollowed out of
the earth alone. Mr. Lowell remarks that the idea is a good one, if it
were only accompanied by proper ventilation. Unfortunately, he says, the
room above is no better than a box, in which the occupant is slowly
roasted. Another disadvantage is experienced in the impossibility of
warming a room at once. He says: “The room does not even begin to get warm
until you have passed through an agonizing interval of expectancy. Then
it takes what seems forever to reach a comfortable temperature, passes
this brief second of happiness before you have had time to realize that it
has attained it, and continues mounting to unknown degrees in a truly
alarming manner, beyond the possibility of control.” This curious and
ingenious method of warming houses is said to have been introduced from
China some one hundred and fifty years ago.
A house of the highest order is simply a frame‐work,—a roof supported on
eight or more posts according to the size of the building; and this with a
foundation represents the only fixed structure. In summer it presents a
skeleton‐like appearance; in winter, however, it appears solid and
compact, as a series of folding‐doors,—a pair between each two
posts,—closes it completely. These are prettily latticed, open outward,
and are fastened from within by a hook and knob. By a curious arrangement
these doors can be removed from their hinges, the upper parts only
remaining attached, and fastened up by hooks to the ceiling. This kind of
a house and room is used as a banqueting hall and a room for general
entertainment. It may be compared to our drawing‐room.
Dwelling‐rooms are constructed on quite a different plan. Instead of
continuous doors, the sides are composed of permanent walls and doors. The
wall is of wood, except that in the poorer house it consists of mud. Says
Mr. Lowell: “In these buildings we have an elaborate system of three‐fold
aperture closers,—a species of three skins, only that they are for
consecutive, not simultaneous, use. The outer is the folding‐door above
mentioned; the other two are a couple of pairs of sliding panels,—the
survivors in Korea of the once common sliding screens, such as are used
to‐day in Japan. One of the pairs is covered with dark green paper, and is
for night use; the other is of the natural yellowish color of the oil‐
paper, and is used by day. When not wanted, they slide back into grooves
inside the wall, whence they are pulled out again by ribbons fastened near
the middle of the outer edge. All screens of this sort, whether in houses
or palanquins, are provided, unlike the Japanese, with these conveniences
for tying the two halves of each pair together, and thus enabling easier
adjustment.” The house‐lining within is oil‐paper. “Paper covers the
ceiling, lines the wall, spreads the floor. As you sit in your room your
eye falls upon nothing but paper; and the very light that enables you to
see anything at all sifts in through the same material.”
It will be seen by these brief extracts how dissimilar the Korean house is
to that of the Japanese. And this dissimilarity is fully sustained by an
examination of the photographs which Mr. Lowell made in Korea, and which
show among other things low stone‐walled houses with square openings for
windows, closed by frames covered with paper, the frames hung from above
and opening outside, and the roof tiled; also curious thatched roofs, in
which the slopes are uneven and rounding, and their ridges curiously
knotted or braided, differing in every respect from the many forms of
thatched roof in Japan.
The Chinese house, as I saw it in Shanghai and its suburbs, and at Canton
as well as up the river, shows differences from the Japanese house quite
as striking as those of the Korean house. Here one sees, in the cities at
least, solid brick‐walled houses, with kitchen range built into the wall,
and chimney equally permanent; tiled‐roof, with tiled ridges; enclosed
court‐yard; floors of stone, upon which the shoes are worn from the
street; doorways, with doors on hinges; window openings closed by
swinging frames fitted with the translucent shells of Placuna, or white
paper, the latter usually in a dilapidated condition; and for furniture
they have tables, chairs, bedsteads, drawers, babies’ chairs, cradles,
foot‐stools, and thel like. The farm‐houses of China in those regions that
I visited were equally unlike similar houses in Japan.
From this superficial glance at the character of the house in the outlying
Islands of the Japanese Empire, as well as at the houses of the
neighboring countries, Korea and China, I think it will be conceded that
the Japanese house is typically a product of the people, with just those
features from abroad incorporated in it that one might look for,
considering the proximity to Japan of China and Korea. When we remember
that these three great civilizations of the Mongoloid race approximate
within the radius of a few hundred miles, and that they have been in more
or less intimate contact since early historic times, we cannot wonder that
the germs of Japanese art and letters should have been adopted from the
continent. In precisely the same way our ancestors, the English, drew from
their continent the material for their language, art, music, architecture,
and many other important factors in their civilization; and if history
speaks truly, their refinement even in language and etiquette was
imported. But while Japan, like England, has modified and developed the
germs ingrafted from a greater and older civilization, it has ever
preserved the elasticity of youth, and seized upon the good things of our
civilization,—such as steam, electricity, and modern methods of study and
research,—and utilized them promptly. Far different is it from the mother
country, where the improvements and methods of other nations get but tardy
recognition.
It seems to give certain English writers peculiar delight to stigmatize
the Japanese as a nation of imitators and copyists. From the contemptuous
manner in which disparagements of this nature are flung into the faces of
the Japanese who are engaged in their heroic work of establishing sound
methods of government and education, one would think that in England had
originated the characters by which the English people write, the paper
upon which they print, the figures by which they reckon, the compass by
which they navigate, the gunpowder by which they subjugate, the religion
with which they worship. Indeed, when one looks over the long list of
countries upon which England has drawn for the arts of music, painting,
sculpture, architecture, printing, engraving, and a host of other things,
it certainly comes with an ill‐grace from natives of that country to taunt
the Japanese with being imitators.
It would be obviously absurd to suggest as a model for our own houses such
a structure as a Japanese house. Leaving out the fact that it is not
adapted to the rigor of our climate or to the habits of our people, its
fragile and delicate fittings if adopted by us, would be reduced to a mass
of kindlings in a week, by the rude knocks it would receive; and as for
exposing on our public thoroughfares the delicate labyrinth of carvings
often seen on panel and post in Japan, the wide‐spread vandalism of our
country would render futile all such attempts to civilize and refine.
Fortunately, in that land which we had in our former ignorance and
prejudice regarded as uncivilized, the malevolent form of the _genus homo_
called “vandal” is unknown.
Believing that the Japanese show infinitely greater refinement in their
methods of house‐adornment than we do, and convinced that their tastes are
normally artistic, I have endeavored to emphasize my convictions by
holding up in contrast our usual methods of house‐furnishing and outside
embellishments. By so doing I do not mean to imply that we do not have in
America interiors that show the most perfect refinement and taste; or that
in Japan, on the other hand, interiors may not be found in which good
taste is wanting.
I do not expect to do much good in thus pointing out what I believe to be
better methods, resting on more refined standards. There are some, I am
sure, who will approve; but the throng—who are won by tawdry glint and
tinsel; who make possible, by admiration and purchase, the horrors of much
that is made for house‐furnishing and adornment—will, with characteristic
obtuseness, call all else but themselves and their own ways heathen and
barbarous.
GLOSSARY.
In the following list of Japanese words used in this work an opportunity
is given to correct a number of mistakes which crept into, or rather
walked boldly into, the text. The author lays no claim to a knowledge of
the Japanese language beyond what any foreigner might naturally acquire in
being thrown among the people for some time. As far as possible he has
followed Hepburn’s Japanese Dictionary for orthography and definition, and
Brunton’s Map of Japan for geographical names. Brunton’s map, as well as
that published by Rein, spells Settsu with one _t._ For the sake of
uniformity I have followed this spelling in the text, though it is
contrary to the best authorities. It may be added that Oshiu and Totomi
should be printed with a long accent over each _o._
The words Samurai, Daimio, Kioto, Tokio, and several others, are now so
commonly seen in the periodical literature of our country that this form
of spelling for these words has been retained. For rules concerning the
pronunciation of Japanese words the reader is referred to the Introduction
in Hepburn’s Dictionary.
‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐
Agari‐ba The floor for standing
upon in coming out of the
bath.
Age‐yen A platform that can be
raised or lowered.
Amado Rain‐door. The outside
sliding doors by which
the house is closed at
night.
Andon A lamp.
Asagao A colloquial name for a
porcelain urinal, from
its resemblance to the
flower of the morning‐
glory.
Benjo Privy. Place for
business.
Biwa A lute with four strings.
Biyo‐bu A folding screen.
Cha‐dokoro Tea‐place.
Cha‐ire Tea‐jar; literally, “tea‐
put in.”
Cha‐no‐yu A tea‐party.
Chigai‐dana A shelf, one half of
which is on a different
plane from the other.
Chōdzu‐ba Privy; literally, “hand
water‐place.”
Chōdzu‐bachi A convenience near the
privy for washing the
hands.
Chu‐nuri Middle layer of plaster.
Dai‐jū‐no A pan for holding burning
charcoal, used in
replenishing the hibachi.
Daiku A carpenter.
Daimio A feudal lord.
Dodai The foundation‐sill of a
house.
Dodai‐ishi Foundation stone.
Do‐ma Earth‐space. A small
unfloored court at the
entrance the house.
Fukuro‐dana. Cupboard; literally,
“pouch‐shelf.”
Fumi‐ishi Stepping‐stone.
Furo A small culinary furnace,
also a bath‐tub.
Furosaki biyō‐bu. A two‐fold screen placed
in front of the furo.
Fusuma A sliding screen between
rooms.
Fū‐tai The bands which hang down
in front of a kake‐mono;
literally, “wind‐band.”
Futon A quilted bed‐cover.
Ge‐dan Lower step.
Genka The porch at the entrance
of a house.
Geta Wooden clogs.
Goyemon buro A form of bath‐tub.
Habakari Privy.
Hagi A kind of rush.
Hashira A post.
Hashira kakushi A long narrow picture to
hang on post in room;
literally, “post‐hide.”
Hibachi A brazier for holding hot
coals for warming the
apartments.
Hibashi Metal tongs.
Hikite A recessed catch in a
screen for sliding it
back and forth.
Hi‐no‐ki A species of pine.
Hisashi A small roof projecting
over a door or window.
Hon‐gawara True tile.
Ichi‐yo‐dana A kind of shelf.
Iri‐kawa. The space between the
verandah and room.
Ishi‐dōrō. A stone lantern.
Ji‐bukuro. Cupboard.
Jin‐dai‐sugi “Cedar of God’s age.”
Jinrikisha A two‐wheeled vehicle
drawn by a man.
Ji‐zai A hook used for hanging
pots over the fire.
Jō‐dan Upper step. Raised floor
in house.
Kago Sedan chair.
Kaikōsha Name of a private school
of architecture.
Kake‐mono Hanging picture.
Kaki Fence.
Kamado Kitchen range.
Kami‐dana A shelf in the house for
Shin‐tō shrine.
Kami‐no‐ma Higher room.
Kamoi Lintel.
Kara‐kami Sliding screen between
rooms.
Kawarake Unglazed earthen ware.
Kaya A kind of grass used for
thatch.
Kaya Mosquito netting.
Kazari‐kugi Ornamental headed nails.
Kaze‐obi The bands which hang down
in front of the kake‐
mono; literally, “wind‐
band.”
Keshō‐no‐ma Toilet‐room.
Keyaki A kind of hard wood.
Kō‐ka Privy; literally, “back
frame.”
Koshi‐bari A kind of paper used for
a dado.
Kuguri‐do A small, low door in a
gate.
Kura A fire‐proof store‐house.
Kuro‐moji‐gaki A kind of ornamental
fence.
Ma‐bashira Middle post.
Mado Window.
Ma‐gaki A fence made of bamboo.
Magari‐gane A carpenter’s iron
square.
Maki‐mono Pictures that are kept
rolled up, not hung.
Maki‐mono‐dana Shelf for make‐mono.
Makura Pillow.
Miki‐dokkuri Bottle for offering wine
to gods.
Mochi A kind of bread made of
glutinous rice.
Mon Badge, or crest.
Mune Ridge of roof.
Naka‐tsubo Middle space.
Nan‐do. Store‐room. Pantry.
Neda‐maruta Cross‐beams to support
floor.
Nedzumi‐bashira Cross‐beam at end of
building; literally,
“rat‐post.”
Nikai‐bari Horizontal beam to
support second‐story
floor.
Noren Curtain. Hanging screen.
Nuki A stick passed through
mortised holes to bind
together upright posts.
Nuri‐yen A verandah unprotected by
amado.
Ochi‐yen A low platform.
Oshi‐ire Closet; literally, “push,
put in.”
Otoshi‐kake Hanging partition.
Ramma Open ornamental work over
the screens which form
the partitions in the
house.
Ro Hearth, or fire‐place, in
the floor.
Ro‐ka Corridor. Covered way.
Sake Fermented liquor brewed
from rice.
Samisen A guitar with three
strings.
Samisen‐tsugi A peculiar splice for
joining timber.
Samurai Military class privileged
to wear two swords.
Sashi‐mono‐ya Cabinet‐maker.
Setsu‐in Privy; literally, “snow‐
hide.”
Shaku A wooden tablet formerly
carried by nobles when in
presence of the Emperor.
Shaku A measure of ten inches.
Japanese foot.
Shichirin A brazier for cooking
purposes.
Shikii The lower grooved beam in
which the door or screens
slide.
Shin‐tō The primitive religion of
Japan.
Shita‐nuri The first layer of
plaster.
Shō‐ji The outside door‐sash
covered with thin paper.
Sode‐gaki A small ornamental fence
adjoining a house.
Sudare A shade made of split
bamboo or reeds.
Sugi Cedar.
Sumi‐sashi A marking‐brush made of
wood.
Sumi‐tsubo An ink‐pot used by
carpenters in lieu of the
chalk‐line.
Sun One tenth of a Japanese
foot.
Sunoko A platform made of
bamboo.
Tabako‐bon A box or tray in which
fire and smoking
utensils are kept.
Tamari‐no‐ma Anteroom.
Tansu Bureau.
Taruki A rafter of the roof.
Tatami A floor‐mat.
Ten‐jō Ceiling.
Te‐shoku Hand‐lamp.
To‐bukuro A closet in which outside
doors are stowed away.
Tokkuri A bottle.
Toko The floor of the
tokonoma.
Toko‐bashira The post dividing the two
bays or recesses in the
guestroom.
Tokonoma A bay, or recess, where a
picture is hung.
Tori‐i A portal, or structure of
stone or wood, erected in
front of a Shin‐tō
temple.
Tsubo An area of six feet
square.
Tsugi‐no‐ma Second room.
Tsui‐tate A screen of one leaf set
in a frame.
Tsume‐sho. A servant’s waiting‐room.
Usukasumi‐dana A name for shelf;
literally, “thin mist‐
shelf,”
Uwa‐nuri The last layer of
plaster.
FOOTNOTES
1 Transactions of the Asiatic Society of Japan, vol. v., part i. p.
207.
2 It may be well to state here that most of the good and reliable
contributions upon Japan are to be found in the Transactions of the
English and German Asiatic Societies published in Yokohama; also in
the pages of the Japan “Mail,” in the now extinct Tokio “Times,” and
in a most excellent but now defunct magazine called the
“Chrysanthemum,” whose circulation becoming vitiated by the
theological sap in its tissues, finally broke down altogether from
the dead weight of its dogmatic leaves.
Among the many valuable papers published in these Transactions of
the Asiatic Society of Japan, is one by Thomas R. H. McClatchie,
Esq., on “The Feudal Mansions of Yedo,” vol. vii. part iii. p. 157,
which gives many important facts concerning a class of buildings
that is rapidly disappearing, and to which only the slightest
allusion has been made in the present work. The reader is also
referred to a Paper in the same publication by George Cawley, Esq.,
entitled “Some Remarks on Constructions in Brick and Wood, and
their Relative Suitability for Japan,” vol. vi. part ii. p. 291; and
also to a Paper by R. H. Brunton, Esq., on “Constructive Art in
Japan,” vol. ii. p. 64; vol. iii. part ii. p. 20.
Professor Huxley has said in one of his lectures, that if all the
books in the world were destroyed, with the exception of the
Philosophical Transactions, “it is safe to say that the foundations
of Physical Science would remain unshaken, and that the vast
intellectual progress of the last two centuries would be largely
though incompletely recorded.” In a similar way it might almost be
said of the Japan “Mail,” that if all the books which have been
written by foreigners upon Japan were destroyed, and files of the
Japan “Mail” alone preserved, we should possess about all of value
that has been recorded by foreigners concerning that country. This
journal not only includes the scholarly productions of its editor,
Capt. F. Brinkley, as well as an immense mass of material from its
correspondents, but has also published the Transactions of the
Asiatic Society of Japan in advance ot the Society’s own
publications.
3 Still another English writer says: “It is unpleasant to live within
ugly walls; it is still more unpleasant to live within unstable
walls: but to be obliged to live in a tenement which is both
unstable and ugly is disagreeable in a tenfold degree.” He thinks it
is quite time to evoke legislation to remedy these evils, and says:
“An Englishman’s house was formerly said to be his castle; but in
the hands of the speculating builder and advertising tradesman, we
may be grateful that it does not oftener become his tomb.”
4 _Fig. 12_ represents the frame‐work of an ordinary two‐storied
house. It is copied from a Japanese carpenter’s drawing, kindly
furnished the writer by Mr. Fukuzawa, of Tokio, proper corrections
in perspective having been made. The various parts have been
lettered, and the dimensions given in Japanese feet and inches. The
Japanese foot is, within the fraction of an inch, the same as ours,
and is divided into ten parts, called _sun._ The wood employed in
the frame is usually cedar or pine. The corner posts, as well as the
other large upright posts, called _hashira (H),_ are square, and
five _sun_ in thickness; these are tenoned into the plate upon which
they rest. This plate is called _do‐dai (D);_ it is made of cedar,
and sometimes of chestnut. The _do‐dai_ is six _sun_ square, and
rests directly on a number of stones, which are called _do‐dai‐ishi
(D,1)._ Between the _hashira_ come smaller uprights, called _ma‐
bashira (M)_ (_hashira_ changed to _bashira_ for euphony); these
are two _sun_ square. Through these pass the cross‐pieces called
_nuki;_ these are four _sun_ wide and one _sun_ thick. To these are
attached the bamboo slats as substitutes for laths. The horizontal
beam to support the second‐story floor is called the _nikaibari__
(Ni);_ this is of pine, with a vertical thickness of one foot two
_sun,_ and a width of six tenths of a _sun._ The rafters of the
roof, called _yane‐shita (Ya),_ in this frame are nine feet long,
three _sun_ wide, and eight tenths of a _sun_ in thickness. Cross‐
beams _(T),_ from the upper plate from which spring posts to support
the ridge‐pole, are called _taruki._ The first floor is sustained by
posts that rest on stones embedded in the ground, as well as by a
beam called _yuka‐shita (Yu);_ this is secured to the upright beams
at the height of one and one‐half or two feet above the _do‐dai._
The upper floor‐joists are of pine, two inches square; the flooring
boards are six tenths of a _sun_ in thickness, and one foot wide.
The lower floor‐joists, called _neda‐maruta (Ne),_ are rough round
sticks, three _sun_ in diameter, hewn on opposite sides. On top of
these rest pine boards six tenths of a _sun_ in thickness.
5 The accompanying sketches will illustrate the various stages in the
construction of the ceiling.
6 General Francis A. Walker, in his Lowell Lectures on the United
States Census for 1880, shows that carpenters constitute the largest
single body of artisans working for the supply of local wants. He
shows that the increase of this body from decade to decade is far
behind what it should be if it increased in the ratio of the
population; and though this fact might excite surprise, he shows
that it is due to the enormous increase in machine‐made material,
such as doors, sashes, blinds, etc.; in other words, to the making
of those parts which in former times trained a man in delicate work
and accurate joinery.
7 There is no question but that in England apprentices serve their
time at trades more faithfully than with us; nevertheless, the
complaints that go up in the English press in regard to poor and
slovenly work show the existence of a similar class of impostors,
who defraud the public by claiming to be what they are not. The
erratic Charles Reade, in a series of letters addressed to the “Pall
Mall Gazette,” on builders’ blunders, inveighs against the British
workmen as follows: “When last seen, I was standing on the first
floor of the thing they call a house, with a blunder under my
feet,—unvarnished, unjoined boards; and a blunder over my head,—the
oppressive, glaring plaster‐ceiling, full of the inevitable cracks,
and foul with the smoke of only three months’ gas.”
In regard to sash windows, he says: “This room is lighted by what
may be defined ‘the unscientific window.’ Here, in this single
structure, you may see most of the intellectual vices that mark the
unscientific mind. The scientific way is always the simple way; so
here you have complication on complication,—one half the window is
to go up, the other half is to come down. The maker of it goes out
of his way to struggle with Nature’s laws; he grapples insanely with
gravitation, and therefore he must use cords and weights and
pulleys, and build boxes to hide them in. He is a great hider. His
wooden frames move up and down wooden grooves, open to atmospheric
influence. What is the consequence? The atmosphere becomes humid;
the wooden frame sticks in the wooden box, and the unscientific
window is jammed. What, ho! Send for the Curse of Families, the
British workman! On one of the cords breaking (they are always
breaking), send for the Curse of Families to patch the blunder of
the unscientific builder.”
8 A Government bureau called the _Kaitakushi,_ now fortunately
extinct, established in Yezo, the seat of its labors, one or two
saw‐mills; but whether they are still at work I do not know.
9 A structure of stone or wood, not unlike the naked frame‐work of a
gate, erected in front of shrines and temples.
10 This sketch was made from a photograph taken for this work, at the
suggestion of Dr. W. S. Bigelow, by Percival Lowell, Esq.
11 We have characterized as a ridge‐roof that portion which has
truncate ends,—in other words, the form of a gable,—and which
receives special methods of treatment. The line of demarcation
between the long reach of thatch of the roof proper and the ridge‐
roof is very distinct.
12 An odor which at home we recognize as “Japanesy,” arising from the
wood‐boxes in which Japanese articles are packed.
13 In the plan (_fig. 97_) _P_ is an eight‐mat room; _D_ and _L_ are
six‐mat rooms; _S_ is a four and one‐half mat room; _S, H,_ and
_St._ are three‐mat rooms; _S B,_ and F are two‐mat rooms.
14 The following is a brief explanation of the names of the rooms given
in plan _fig. 99_: _Agari‐ba_ (_Agari,_ “to go up; ” _ba,_ “place”),
Platform, or place to stand on in coming out of the Bath. _Cha‐
dokoro,_ Tea‐place; _Ge‐dan,_ Lower Step; _ō‐dan,_ Upper Step; _Iri‐
kawa,_ Space between verandah and room; _Kami‐no‐ma,_ Upper place or
room; _Tsugi‐no‐ma,_ Next place or room; _Kesho‐no‐ma,_ Dressing‐
room _(Kesho,_—“adorning the face with powder”). _Nan‐do,_ Store‐
room; _Naka‐tsubo,_ Middle space, _Oshi‐ire,_ Closet (literally,
“push,” “put in”); _Ro‐ka,_ Corridor, Covered way; _Tamari,_ Ante‐
chamber; _Tsume‐sho,_ Waiting‐room for servants; _Yu‐dono,_ Bath‐
room; _Yen‐zashiki,_ End parlor; _Watari,—_“to cross over;”
_Sunoko,_ Bamboo shelf or platform.
15 See chapter viii. for further considerations regarding the matter.
16 A correspondent in the “Pall Mall Gazette,” in protesting against
the attempt to impose European clothing on those people who are
accustomed to go without any, says: “In many parts of India there is
a profound suspicion of the irreligiousness of clothing. The fakir
is distressed even by the regulation rag upon which the Government
modestly insists, and a fully dressed fakir would be scouted. The
late Brahmo minister, Chesub Chunder Sen, expressed the belief that
India would never accept a Christ in hat and boots. The missionary
should remember that clothes‐morality is climatic, and that if a
certain degree of covering of the body has gradually become in the
Northwest associated with morality and piety, the traditions of
tropical countries may have equally connected elaborate dress rather
with the sensualities of Solomon in his glory than with the purity
of the lily as clothed by Nature.”
17 Rein says: “The cleanliness of the Japanese is one of his most
commendable qualities. It is apparent in his body, in his house, in
his workshop, and no less in the great carefulness and exemplary
exactness with which he looks after his fields.”
18 From the name _tokonoma,_ which means “bed‐place,” literally “bed of
floor,” it is supposed that in ancient times the bed was made or
placed in this recess.
19 In this connection it may be interesting to mention the various
names applied to the privy by the Japanese, with a free translation
of the same as given me by Mr. A. S. Mihara: _Setsu‐in,_ “snow‐
hide;” _Chodsu‐ba,_“place to wash hands” (the _chōdzu‐bachi,_ a
convenience for washing the hands, being always near the privy);
_Benjo_ and _Yo‐ba,_“place for business;” _Ko‐ka,_“ back‐frame.”
_Habakari_ is a very common name for this place; the word _Yen‐
riyo,_ though not applied to this place, has the same meaning, it
implies reserve.
These words with their meanings certainly indicate a great degree of
refinement an delicacy in the terms applied to the privy.
20 The ordinary form of verandah is called _yen,_ or _yen‐gawa._ In
Kishiu it is called simply _yen,_ while in Tokio it is called _yen‐
gawa._ A low platform is called an _ochi‐yen;_ a platform that can
be raised or lowered is called an _age‐yen._ When the platform has
no groove for the rain‐doors on the outer edge, it is called a
_nuri‐yen,—nuri_ meaning wet, the rain in this case beating in and
wetting the verandah. A little platform made of bamboo, which may be
used as a shelf for plants, is called _sunoko._
21 A gate‐like structure seen in front of all shrines and temples.
22 This legend is from a work entitled “Chikusan Teizoden.”
23 Professor Atkinson, in the Journal of the Asiatic Society, vol. vi.
part i.; Dr. Geerts, ibid., vol. vii. part iii.
Dr. O. Korschelt has made an extremely valuable contribution to the
Asiatic Society of Japan, on the water‐supply of Tokio. Aided by
Japanese students, he has made many analyses of well‐waters and
waters from the city supply, and shows that, contrary to the
conclusions of Professor Atkinson, the high‐ground wells are on the
whole much purer than those on lower ground. Dr. Korschelt also
calls attention to the great number of artesian wells sunk in Tokio,
by means of bamboo tubes driven into the ground. The ordinary form
of well is carried down thirty or forty feet in the usual way, and
then at the bottom bamboo tubes are driven to great depths, ranging
from one hundred to two hundred feet and more. He speaks of a number
of these wells in Tokio and the suburbs as overflowing. There is one
well not far from the Tokio Daigaku which overflows; and a very
remarkable sight it is to see the water pouring over a high well‐
curb and flooding the ground in the vicinity. He shows that pure
water may be reached in most parts of Tokio by means of artesian
wells; and to this source the city must ultimately look for its
water‐supply.
For further particulars concerning this subject, the reader is
referred to Dr. Korschelt’s valuable paper in the Transactions of
the Asiatic Society of Japan, vol. xii. part iii., p. 143.
24 The pier‐glaas is happily unknown in Japan; a small disk of polished
metal represents the mirror, and is wisely kept in a box till
needed!
25 Transactions of the Asiatic Society of Japan, vol. i. p. 20.
26 Owing to the sensible civil service of England, scholars and
diplomates are appointed to these duties in the East; and as a
natural result all the honors,—political, commercial, and
literary,—have, with few exceptions, been won by Englishmen.
27 Transactions of the Asiatic Society of Japan, vol. ix. part ii. p.
191.
28 Ibid., vol. x. Supplement.
29 Ibid., vol. iii. part ii. p. 131.
30 In Anam I noticed that the bed‐rooms were indicated by hanging cloth
partition as well as by those made of matting.
31 Transactions of the Asiatic Society of Japan, vol. vi. part i. p.
109.
32 Satow gives quite a different rendering of this passage.
33 Translations of the Asiatic Society of Japan, vol. ii. p. 119.
34 Transactions of the Asiatic Society of Japan, vol. iii. part ii.
35 In Mr. Aston’s translation this word is printed “heart,” but
evidently this must be a misprint.
36 It is lamentable to reflect how many monstrous designs have been
perpetrated under the general name of Gothic, which are neither in
spirit nor letter realized the character of Mediaeval art. In London
these extraordinary ebullitions of uneducated taste generally appear
in the form of meeting‐houses, music‐halls, and similar places of
popular resort. Showy in their general effect, and usually
overloaded with meretricious ornament, they are likely enough to
impose upon an uninformed judgment, which is incapable of
discriminating between what Mr. Ruskin has called the “Lamp of
Sacrifice,”—one of the glories of ancient art,—and the lust of
profusion which is the bane of modern design.—_Eastlake’s Hints on
Household Taste,_ p. 21.
37 Notes of a visit to Hachijô, in 1878. By F. V. Dickins and Ernest
Satow. Transactions of the Asiatic Society of Japan, vol. vi. part
iii. p. 435.
38 Vol. iv. p. 68.