SIGHTS IN THE EASTERN CAPITAL OF JAPAN.
To see the whole of Tokio is a matter of no small moment, as the area of
the city is very great. There seems to have been no stint of ground when
the place was laid out, and in riding through it you find whole fields
and gardens so widely spread that you can readily imagine yourself to be
in the rural districts, and are rather surprised when told that you are
yet in the city limits. The city is divided into two unequal portions by
the Sumida River, and over this river is the Nihon Bashi, or Nihon
Bridge, which is often called the centre of Japan, for the reason that
all the roads were formerly measured from it. It has the same relation
to Japan as the famous "London Stone" has to England, or, rather, as the
London Stone had a hundred years ago.
[Illustration: VIEW OF TOKIO, FROM THE SOUTH.]
From the railway station our travellers went to the Nihon Bashi, in
order to begin their journey from the centre of the empire. A more
practical reason was a desire to see the river, and the great street
leading to it, as they would get a good idea of the extent of the city
by taking this route, and would obtain numerous glimpses of Japanese
street life. They found the streets full of people, and it seemed to the
boys that the whole population must be out for an airing. But the Doctor
informed them that the sight they were witnessing was an every-day
affair, as the Japanese were essentially an outdoor people, and that
many of the industries which in other countries would be conducted under
a roof were here seen in progress out of doors. The fronts of the
Japanese houses are quite open to the view of the public, and there is
hardly anything of what we call privacy. It was formerly no uncommon
sight to see people bathing in tubs placed in front of their door-steps;
and even at the present time one has only to go into the villages, or
away from the usual haunts of foreigners, to see that spectacle which
would be unknown in the United States. The bath-houses are now closed in
front in all the cities, but remain pretty much as before in the smaller
towns. Year by year the country is adopting Western ideas, and coming to
understand the Western views of propriety.
[Illustration: JAPANESE LADY COMING FROM THE BATH.]
As the boys rode along, their attention was drawn to some tall ladders
that rose above the buildings, and they eagerly asked the Doctor what
those ladders were for. They could not see the use of climbing up in the
air and then coming down again; and, altogether, the things were a
mystery to them. A few words explained the matter. The ladders were
nothing more nor less than fire-lookouts, and were elevated above the
buildings so that the watchmen could have an unobstructed view. A bell
was attached to each ladder, and by means of it a warning-signal was
given in case of a threatened conflagration. Fires are frequent in
Tokio, and some of them have done immense damage. The city is mostly
built of wood; and when a fire breaks out and a high wind is blowing,
the result is often disastrous to an enormous extent.
[Illustration: FIRE-LOOKOUTS IN TOKIO.]
After the great fires of the last twenty years, the burned districts
have been rebuilt of stone, or largely so; and precautions that were
hitherto unknown are now taken for the prevention of fresh disasters.
Some of the new quarters are quite substantial, but they resemble too
strongly the edifices of a city in Europe to be characteristic of Japan.
A portion of the way took our friends through the grounds of some of the
castles, and the boys were rather astonished at the extent of these
residences of princes. Doctor Bronson explained that Tokio was formerly
a city of princes, and that the residences of the Daimios, as these
great men were called, were of more consequence at one time than all the
rest of the city. The palace of a Daimio was known as a _yashiki_, and
the yashikis were capable, in some instances, of lodging five or ten
thousand men. Under the present government the power of the princes has
been taken away, and their troops of retainers have been disbanded. The
government has converted the most of the yashikis into offices and
barracks and schools, and one at least has been turned into a
manufactory.
The original plan of Tokio was that of a vast camp, and from that the
city grew into its present condition. The best locations were occupied
by the castles and yashikis, and the principal castle in the centre has
the best place of all. Frank observed as they crossed the bridge leading
into the castle-yard that the broad moat was full of lotos flowers in
full bloom, and he longed to gather some of them so that he might send
them home as a souvenir of the country. He had heard of the lotos as a
sort of water-lily, similar in general appearance to the pond-lily of
his native land. He was surprised to find a flower, eight or ten inches
in diameter, growing on a strong stalk that did not float on the water,
but held itself erect and far above it. The Doctor explained the matter
by telling him that the Japanese lotos is unlike the Egyptian lotos,
from which our ideas of that flower are derived. But the Japanese one is
highly prized by the people of all ranks and classes, and it grows in
abundance in all the castle-moats, and in marshy ground generally.
[Illustration: TOO MUCH SA-KEE.]
Near the entrance of one of the castle-yards they met a couple that
attracted their attention. It was a respectable-appearing citizen who
had evidently partaken too freely of the cup that cheers and also
inebriates, as his steps were unsteady, and he would have fallen to the
ground had it not been for the assistance of his wife, who was leading
him and guiding him in the way he should go. As the strangers went past
him he raised his hand to his head; but Frank could not determine
whether it was a movement of salutation or of dazed inquiry. The Doctor
suggested that it was more likely to have been the latter than the
former, since the Japanese do not salute in our manner, and the man was
too much under the influence of the "sa-kee" he had swallowed to adopt
any foreign modes of politeness. Sights like this are not unknown in the
great cities of Japan, but they are far less frequent than in New York
or London. The Japanese say that drunkenness is on the decrease in the
past few years, owing to the abolition of the Samurai class, who have
been compelled to work for a living, instead of being supported out of
the revenues of the state, as formerly. They have less time and money
for dissipation now than they had in the olden days, and, consequently,
their necessities have made them temperate.
[Illustration: SAKURADU AVENUE IN TOKIO.]
For an Oriental city Tokio has remarkably wide streets, and some of them
are laid out with all the care of Western engineering. In the course of
their morning ride the party came to Sakuradu Avenue, which Fred
recognized from a drawing by a native artist, who had taken pains to
preserve the architecture of the buildings on each side with complete
fidelity. The foundations of the houses were of irregular stones cut in
the form of lozenges, but not with mathematical accuracy. The boys had
already noticed this form of hewing stone in the walls of the castles,
where some very large blocks were piled. They were reported to have been
brought from distant parts of the empire, and the cost of their
transportation must have been very great. Few of the houses were of
more than two stories, and the great majority were of only one. Along
Sakuradu Avenue they were of two stories, and had long and low windows
with paper screens, so that it was impossible for a person in the street
to see what was going on inside. The eaves projected far over the
upright sides, and thus formed a shelter that was very acceptable in the
heat of summer, while in rainy weather it had many advantages. These
yashikis were formerly the property of Daimios, but are now occupied by
the Foreign Office and the War Department. Inside the enclosure there
are many shade-trees, and they make a cooling contrast to the plain
walls of the buildings. The Japanese rarely paint the interior or the
exterior of their buildings. Nearly everything is finished in the
natural color of the wood, and very pretty the wood is too. It is
something like oak in appearance, but a trifle darker, and is
susceptible of a high polish. It admits of a great variety of uses, and
is very easily wrought. It is known as keyaki-wood; and, in spite of the
immense quantity that is annually used, it is cheap and abundant.
Some of the Daimios expended immense amounts of money in the decoration
of their palaces by means of bronzes, embroideries on silk, fine
lacquer, and the like. Art in Japan was nourished by the Daimios, and we
have much to thank them for in the way of household adornment.
Since the adoption of Western ideas in decoration and household
furniture, the Japanese dwellings have lost somewhat in point of
attractiveness. Our carpets and furniture are out of place in a Japanese
room, and so are our pictures and statuary. It is a pity that the people
should ever abandon their domestic customs for ours, whatever they might
do in the matter of military equipment, machinery, and other things that
are more or less commercial. Japanese men and women are far more
attractive in their native dress than in ours, and a Japanese house
loses its charm when the neat mattings give way to European carpets, and
chairs and tables are spread around in place of the simple adornments to
which the people were accustomed.
After an interesting ride, in which their eyes were in constant use, the
boys reached the Temple of Asakusa, which is one of the great points of
attraction to a stranger in Tokio. The street which led up to the temple
was lined with booths, in which a great variety of things were offered
for sale. Nearly all of these things were of a cheap class, and
evidently the patrons of the temple were not of the wealthier sort. Toys
were numerous, and as our party alighted they saw some children gazing
wistfully at a collection of dolls; Frank and Fred suggested the
propriety of making the little people happy by expending something for
them. The Doctor gave his approval; so the boys invested a sum equal to
about twenty cents of our money, and were astonished at the number of
dolls they were able to procure for their outlay. The little Japs were
delighted, and danced around in their glee, just as any children might
have done in another country. A few paces away some boys were
endeavoring to walk on bamboo poles, and evidently they were having a
jolly time, to judge by their laughter. Two boys were hanging by their
hands from a pole, and endeavoring to turn somersets; while two others
were trying to walk on a pole close by them. One of the walkers fell
off, and was laughed at by his companions; but he was speedily up again,
determined not to give up till he had accomplished his task.
[Illustration: JAPANESE CHILDREN AT PLAY.]
Japanese children are well supplied with dolls and other playthings, and
there are certain festivals in which the whole family devotes itself to
the preparation or purchase of dolls to amuse the little ones. The
greatest of these festivals is known as the "Hina Matsuri," or Feast of
Dolls, _hina_ meaning doll, and _matsuri_ being applicable to any kind
of feast. It occurs on the third day of the third month, and for several
days before the appointed time the shops are filled with dolls just as
they are filled among us at Christmas. In fact, the whole business in
this line is transacted at this period, and at other times it is next to
impossible to procure the things that are so abundant at the Matsuri.
Every family that can afford the outlay buys a quantity of images made
of wood or enamelled clay, and dressed to represent various imperial,
noble, or mythological characters, either of the present time or of some
former period in Japanese history. In this way the children are taught a
good deal of history, and their delight at the receipt of their presents
is quite equal to that of children in Christian lands. Not only dolls,
but a great variety of other things, are given to the girls; for the
Hina Matsuri is more particularly a festival for girls rather than for
boys. The presents are arranged on tables, and there is general
rejoicing in the household. Miniature tea and toilet sets, miniature
bureaus and wardrobes, and miniature houses are among the things that
fall to the lot of a Japanese girl at the time of the Hina Matsuri.
[Illustration: THE FEAST OF DOLLS ("HINA MATSURI") IN A JAPANESE HOUSE.]
Fred thought the Japanese had queer notions when compared with ours
about the location of a temple in the midst of all sorts of
entertainments. He was surprised to find the temple surrounded with
booths for singing and dancing and other amusements, and was very sure
that such a thing would not be allowed in America. Doctor Bronson
answered that the subject had been discussed before by people who had
visited Japan, and various opinions had been formed concerning it. He
thought it was not unlike some of the customs in Europe, especially in
the more Catholic countries, where the people go to church in the
forenoon and devote the afternoon to amusement. A Japanese does not see
any wrong in going to his worship through an avenue of entertainments,
and then returning to them. He says his prayers as a matter of devotion,
and then applies himself to innocent pleasure. He is firmly attached to
his religious faith, and his recreations are a part of his religion.
What he does is all well enough for him, but whether it would answer for
us is a question which cannot be decided in a moment.
[Illustration: A BARBER AT WORK.]
Men of various trades were working in the shops at Asakusa, and their
way of operating was of much interest to our young friends. A barber was
engaged in arranging the hair of a customer; the forehead had been
shaven, and the hair at the back of the head was gathered into a knot
and thickly plastered, so as to make it stick and remain in place when
turned over into a short cue. The customer knelt on the ground in front
of a box that contained the tools of the operator's trade, and by his
side was a portable furnace for heating water. The whole equipment was
of very little value, and the expense of fitting up a fashionable
barber's shop in New York would send hundreds of Japanese barbers on
their way rejoicing.
Close by was a clothes-merchant, to whom a customer was making an offer,
while the dealer was rubbing his head and vowing he could not possibly
part with the garment at that price. Frank watched him to see how the
affair terminated, and found it was very much as though the transaction
had been in New York instead of Tokio: the merchant, whispering he would
ne'er consent, consented, and the customer obtained the garment at his
own figures when the vender found he could not obtain his own price. It
is the same all the earth over, and Frank thought he saw in this tale
of a coat the touch of nature that makes the whole world kin.
[Illustration: A TRANSACTION IN CLOTHES.]
Hundreds of pigeons were circling around the temple, or walking among
the people that thronged the street. Nobody showed the slightest
intention of harming them, and the consequence was they were very tame.
Several stands were devoted to the sale of grain for the birds; and the
sharp-eyed pigeons knew, when they saw the three strangers halt in front
of one of the stands, that there was good prospect of a free breakfast.
The Doctor bought a quart or more of the grain and threw it out upon the
ground. Instantly there was a whirring of wings in the air, and in less
time than it takes to say so the grain was devoured. The birds were
rather shy of the visitors, and possibly it had been whispered to them
that the foreigner likes his pigeons broiled or served up in pies. But
they did not display any such timidity when the natives approached them.
Some of the Japanese temples are the homes of a great number of pigeons,
and in this respect they resemble the mosques at Constantinople and
other Moslem cities.
Close at hand is a stable where two beautiful ponies are kept. They are
snowy white, and are consecrated to the goddess Ku-wanon, the deity of
mercy, who is the presiding genius of the temple. They are in the care
of a young girl, and it is considered a pious duty to feed them. Pease
and beans are for sale outside, and many devotees contribute a few cash
for the benefit of the sacred animals. If the poor beasts should eat a
quarter of what is offered to them, or, rather, of what is paid for,
they would soon die of overfeeding. It is shrewdly suspected that the
grain is sold many times over, in consequence of a collusion between the
dealers and the keeper of the horses. At all events, the health of the
animals is regarded, and it would never do to give them all that is
presented.
[Illustration: BALL-PLAYING IN JAPAN.]
Frank found the air full of odors more or less heavy, and some of them
the reverse of agreeable. They arose from numerous sticks of incense
burned in honor of the gods, and which are irreverently called
joss-sticks by foreigners. The incense is supposed to be agreeable to
the god, and the smoke is thought to waft the supplicant's prayer to
heaven. The same idea obtains in the burning of a paper on which a
prayer has been printed, the flame carrying the petition as it flies
upward. Traces of a similar faith are found in the Roman Catholic and
Greek churches, where candles have a prominent place in religious
worship; and the Doctor insisted to his young companions that the
Christian and the Pagan are not so very far apart, after all. In
addition to the odor of incense, there was that of oil, in which a
keeper of a tiny restaurant was frying some cuttle-fish. The oil was of
the sort known as "sesame," or barley, and the smell was of a kind that
does not touch the Western nostril as agreeably as does that of lavender
or Cologne water. Men were tossing balls in the air in front of the
restaurant, quite unmindful of the strong odors, and seeming to enjoy
the sport, and a woman and a boy were so busy over a game of battledoor
and shuttlecock that they did not observe the presence of the strangers.
[Illustration: SPORT AT ASAKUSA.]
Through this active scene of refreshment and recreation, our party
strolled along, and at length came to the gateway of the temple, an
enormous structure of wood like a house with triple eaves, and raised on
pillars resembling the piers of a bridge. This is similar to the gateway
that is found in front of nearly every Japanese temple, and is an
imposing ornament. On either hand, as we pass through, we find two
statues of demons, who guard the entrance, and are gotten up in the
superlative degree of hideousness. When the Japanese give their
attention to the preparation of an image of surpassing ugliness, they
generally succeed, and the same is the case when they search after the
beautiful. Nothing can be more ugly in feature than the giants at
Asakusa, and what is there more gracefully beautiful than the Japanese
bronzes that were shown in the great exhibitions at Philadelphia and
Paris? _Les extrêmes se touchent._
Fred thought he would propitiate the demons in a roundabout way, and so
he gave a few pennies to some old beggars that were sitting near the
gateway. The most of them were far from handsome, and none were
beautiful; some were even so repulsive in features as to draw from Frank
the suggestion that they were relatives of the statues, and therefore
entitled to charity.
Near the gateway was a pagoda or tower in seven stories, and it is said
to be one of the finest in Japan. The Japanese pagoda is always built in
an odd number of stories, three, five, seven, or nine, and it usually
terminates, as does the one we are now contemplating, with a spire that
resembles an enormous corkscrew more than anything else. It is of copper
or bronze, and is a very beautiful ornament, quite in keeping with the
edifice that it crowns. On its pinnacle there is a jewel, or something
supposed to be one, a sacred emblem that appears very frequently in
Japanese paintings or bronze-work. The edges of the little roofs
projecting from each story were hung with bells that rang in the wind,
but their noise was not sufficiently loud to render any inconvenience to
the visitor, and for the greater part of the time they do not ring at
all. The architecture of the pagoda is in keeping with that of the
surrounding buildings, and thoroughly Oriental in all its features.
[Illustration: SPIRE OF A PAGODA.]
They passed the gateway and entered the temple. The huge building
towered above them with its curved roof covered with enormous tiles, and
its eaves projecting so far that they suggested an umbrella or the
over-hanging sides of a mushroom. Frank admired the graceful curves of
the roof, and wondered why nobody had ever introduced them into
architecture in America. The Doctor told him that the plan had been
tried in a few instances, but that architects were generally timid
about innovations, and, above all, they did not like to borrow from the
Eastern barbarians. Fred thought they ought to be willing to take
anything that was good, no matter where they found it, and Frank echoed
his sentiment.
[Illustration: BELFRY IN COURT-YARD OF TEMPLE, SHOWING THE STYLE OF A
JAPANESE ROOF.]
"When I build a house," said Fred, "I will have a roof on it after the
Japanese style, or, at any rate, something suggestive of it. The
Japanese roof is pretty and graceful, and would look well in our
landscape, I am sure. I don't see why we shouldn't have it in our
country, and I'll take home some photographs so that I can have
something to work from."
Frank hinted that for the present the house that Fred intended to build
was a castle in the air, and he was afraid it would be some time before
it assumed a more substantial form.
"Perhaps so," Fred answered, "but you wait awhile, and see if I don't do
something that will astonish our neighbors. I think it will do more
practical good to introduce the Japanese roof into America than the
Japanese pillow."
They agreed to this, and then Frank said it was not the place to waste
their time in discussions; they could talk these matters over in the
evening, and meanwhile they would look further at the temple and its
surroundings.
The boys were somewhat disappointed at the appearance of the interior of
the temple. They had expected an imposing edifice like a cathedral, with
stately columns supporting a high roof, and with an air of solemn
stillness pervading the entire building. They ascended a row of broad
steps, and entered a doorway that extended to half the width of the
front of the building. The place was full of worshippers mingled with a
liberal quantity of pigeons, votive offerings, and dirt. Knowing the
Japanese love for cleanliness in their domestic life, it was a surprise
to the youths to find the temple so much neglected as it appeared to be.
They mentioned the matter to Doctor Bronson, who replied that it
probably arose from the fact that the business of everybody was the
business of nobody, and that the priests in charge of the temple were
not inclined to work very hard in such commonplace affairs as keeping
the edifice properly swept out. Thousands of visitors came there daily,
and after it was swept in the morning the place soon became soiled, and
a renewal of the cleansing process would be a serious inconvenience to
the devotees.
People of all classes and kinds were coming and going, and saying their
prayers, without regard to each other. The floor was crowded with
worshippers, some in rags and others in silks, some in youth and others
in old age, some just learning to talk and others trembling with the
weight of years; beggars, soldiers, officers, merchants, women, and
children knelt together before the shrine of the goddess whom they
reverenced, and whose mercy and watchful care they implored. The boys
were impressed with the scene of devotion, and reverently paused as they
moved among the pious Japanese. They respected the unquestioning faith
of the people in the power of their goddess, and had no inclination to
the feeling of derision that is sometimes shown by visitors to places
whose sanctity is not in accord with their own views.
[Illustration: SHRINE OF THE GODDESS KU-WANON.]
But very soon Frank had occasion to bite his lip to suppress a smile
when he saw one of the Japanese throw what an American schoolboy would
call a "spit-ball" at the head of the great image that stood behind the
altar. Then he observed that the whole figure of the god was covered
with these balls, and he knew there must be some meaning to the action
that he at first thought so funny. He called Fred's attention to the
matter, and then asked the Doctor what it meant.
"It is a way they have," replied the Doctor, "of addressing their
petitions to the deity. A Japanese writes his prayer on a piece of
paper, or buys one already written; then he chews it to a pulp, and
throws it at the god. If the ball sticks, the omen is a good one, and
the prayer will be answered; if it rebounds or falls, the sign is
unlucky, and the petitioner must begin over again. I have been told,"
continued Doctor Bronson, "that some of the dealers in printed prayers
apply a small quantity of glue to them so as to insure their sticking
when thrown at the divinity."
In front of the great altar stood a box like a large trough, and into
this box each worshipper threw a handful of copper cash or small coin
before saying his prayers. There were two or three bushels of this coin
in the trough, and it is said that frequently the contributions amount
to a hundred dollars' worth in a single day. The money thus obtained is
expended in repairing and preserving the building, and goes to support
the priests attached to the temple.