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The Foundations of Japan by J.W. Robertson Scott

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The streets of Takamatsu, the capital of Kagawa, are many of them so
narrow that the shopkeepers on either side have joint sun screens
which they draw right across the thoroughfares. Here I found the carts
hauled by a smallish breed of cow. The placid animals are handier in a
narrow place and less expensive than horses. They are shod, like their
drivers, in _waraji_. In Shikoku the cow or ox is generally used in
the paddies instead of the horse. "It is slower but strong and can
plough deep," one agricultural expert said. "It eats cheaper food than
the horse, which moves too fast in a small paddy. Cows and oxen are
probably not working for more than seventy-five or eighty days in the
year."

At Takamatsu I had the opportunity of visiting a daimyo's castle. I
was impressed by its strength not only because of the wide moats but
because of the series of earthen fortifications faced with cyclopean
stonework through which an invading force must wind its way. There was
within the walls a surprisingly large drilling ground for troops and
also an extensive drug garden. The present owner of the castle
proposed to build here a library and a museum for the town. I was glad
of the opportunity to ascend one of the high pagoda-like towers so
familiar in Japanese paintings. I was disillusioned. Instead of
finding myself in beautiful rooms for the enjoyment of marvellous
views and sea breezes I had to clamber over the roughest cob-webbed
timbers. One storey was connected with another by a stair of rude
planking. Such pagodas were built only for their military value as
lookouts and for their delightful appearance from the outside.

The town now enjoyed as a park of more than ten acres the grounds of a
subsidiary residence of the daimyo. The magnificent trees, with lakes,
rivulets and hills fashioned with infinite art,[175] and the
background of natural hill and woodland, made in all a possession
which exhibited the delectable possibilities of Japanese gardening. An
occasional electric light amid the trees gave an effect in the evening
in which Japanese delight. Some of the old carp which dashed up to the
bridges when they heard our footsteps seemed to be not far short of 3
ft. long.

Except for a small patch of sugar cane in Shidzuoka--it is grown
practically on the sea beach where it is visible from the express--the
visitor to Japan may never see sugar cane until Shikoku is reached.
The value of the crop in the whole island is about 800,000 yen. The
tall cane is conspicuous alongside the more diminutive rice. In this
prefecture an experiment is being made in growing olives.

Kagawa is remarkable in having had until lately 30,000 pond reservoirs
for the irrigation of rice fields. Under the new system of rice-field
adjustment many of the ponds are joined together. Because in Shikoku
flat tracts of land or tracts that can be made flat are limited in
number the farmers have to be content with small pieces of land. The
average area of farm in Kagawa outside the mountainous region is less
than two acres. When the farms are near the sea, as they commonly are,
the agriculturists may also be fishermen.

The number of place names ending in _ji_ (temple) proclaims the former
flourishing condition of Buddhism. Shikoku is a great resort of
white-clothed pilgrims. Sometimes it is a solitary man whom one sees
on the road, sometimes a company of men, occasionally a family. Not
seldom the pilgrim or his companion is manifestly suffering from some
affection which the pilgrimage is to cure. In the old days it was not
unusual to send the victim of "the shameful disease" or of an
incurable ailment on a pilgrimage from shrine to shrine or temple to
temple. He was not expected to return. In Shikoku there are
eighty-eight temples to Buddha and the founder of the Shingon sect,
and it is estimated that it would mean a 760 miles' journey to visit
them all.

We went off our route at one point where my companion wished to visit
a gorgeous shrine. A guidebook said that people flocked there "by the
million," but what I was told was that last year's attendance was
80,000. The street leading to the approach to the shrine was in a
series of steps. On either side were the usual shops with piled-up
mementoes in great variety and of no little ingenuity, and also, on
spikes, little stacks of _rin_--the old copper coin with a square hole
through the middle--into which the economical devotee takes care to
exchange a few sen. We climbed to the shrine when twilight was coming
on. At the point where the series of street steps ended there began a
new series of about a thousand steps belonging to the shrine. A
thousand granite steps may be tiring after a hot day's travel in a
_kuruma_. All the way up to the shrine there were granite pillars
almost brand new, first short ones, then taller, then taller still,
and after these a few which topped the tallest. They were
conspicuously inscribed with the names of donors to the shrine. A
small pillar was priced at 10 yen. What the big, bigger and biggest
cost I do not know. I turned from the pillars to the stone lanterns.
"They burn cedar wood, I believe," said my companion. But soon
afterwards I saw a man working at them with a length of electric-light
wire.

The great shrine was impressive in the twilight. There was a platform
near, and from it we looked down from the tree-covered heights through
the growing darkness. Where the lights of the town twinkled there was
a subsidiary shrine. A bare-headed, kimono-clad sailor stepped forward
near us and bowed his head to some semblance of deity down there.
Various fishermen had brought the anchors of their ships and the oars
of their boats to show forth their thankfulness for safety at sea. In
the murkiness I was just able to pick out the outlines of a bronze
horse which stands at the shrine, "as a sort of scape-goat," my
companion explained. "It is probably Buddhist," he said; "but you can
never be sure; these priests embellish the history of their temples
so."

It was at the inn in the evening that someone told me that in the town
which is dependent on the shrine there were "a hundred prostitutes,
thirty geisha and some waitresses." Late at night I had a visit from a
man in a position of great responsibility in the prefecture. He was at
a loss to know what could be done for morality. "Religion is not
powerful," he said, "the schools do not reach grown-up people, the
young men's societies are weak, many sects and new moralities are
attacking our people, and there are many cheap books of a low class."

Next day I laid this view before a group of landlords. They did not
reply for a little and my skilful interpreter said, "they are thinking
deeply." At length one of them delivered himself to this effect:
"Landowners hereabouts are mostly of a base sort. They always consider
things from a material and personal point of view. But if they are
attacked and made to act more for the public good it may have an
effect on rural conditions which are now low."

I enquired about the new sects of Buddhism and Shintoism, for there
had been pointed out to me in some villages "houses of new religions."
"New religions in many varieties are coming into the villages," I was
told, "and extravagant though they may be are influencing people. The
adherents seem to be moral and modest, and they pay their taxes
promptly. There is a so-called Shinto sect which was started twenty
years ago by an ignorant woman. It has believers in every part of
Japan. It is rather communistic."[176] None of the landlords who
talked with me believed in the possibility of a "revival of Buddhism."
One of them noted that "people educated in the early part of Meiji are
most materialistic. It is a sorrowful circumstance that the officials
ask only materialistic questions of the villagers."

I asked one of the landlords about his tenants. He said that his
"largest tenant" had no more than 1.3 _tan_ of paddy. It was explained
that "tenants are obedient to the landowner in this prefecture." Under
the system of official rewards which exists in Japan, 1,086 persons in
the prefecture had been "rewarded" by a kind of certificate of merit
and nine with money--to the total value of 26 yen.

When I drew attention to the fact that the manufacture of _sake_ and
_soy_ seemed to be frequently in the hands of landowners it was
explained to me that formerly this was their industry exclusively.
Even now "whereas an ordinary shop-keeper is required by etiquette to
say 'Thank you' to his customer, a purchaser of _sake_ or _soy_ says
'Thank you' to the shop-keeper."

The flower arrangement in my room in the inn consisted of an effective
combination of _hagi_ (_Lespedeza bicolor_, a leguminous plant
which is grown for cattle and has been a favourite subject of Japanese
poetry), a cabbage, a rose, a begonia and leaf and a fir branch.

A landowner I chatted with in the train showed me that it was a
serious matter to receive the distinction of growing the millet for
use at the Coronation. One of his friends who was growing 5 _sh=o_,
the actual value of which might be 50 or 60 sen, was spending on it
first and last about 3,000 yen.

I enquired about the diversions of landowners. It is easy, of course,
to have an inaccurate impression of the extent of their leisure. Only
about 1 per cent, have more than 25 acres.[177] Therefore most of
these men are either farmers themselves or must spend a great deal of
time looking after their tenants. Still, some landowners are able to
take things rather easily. The landowners I interrogated marvelled at
the open-air habits of English landed proprietors. They were greatly
surprised when I told them of a countess who is a grandmother but
thinks nothing of a canter before breakfast. The mark of being well
off was often to stay indoors or at any rate within garden walls,
which necessarily enclose a very small area. (Hence the fact that one
object of Japanese gardening is to suggest a much larger space than
exists.) A good deal of time is spent "in appreciating fine arts."
Ceremonial tea drinking still claims no small amount of attention. (In
many gardens and in the grounds of hotels of any pretensions one comes
on the ostentatiously humble chamber for _Cha-no-yu_.) No doubt there
is among many landowners a considerable amount of drinking of
something stronger than tea, and not a few men sacrifice freely to
Venus. Perhaps the greatest claimant of all on the time of those who
have time to spare is the game of _go_, which is said to be more
difficult than chess. One cannot but remark the comparatively pale
faces of many landowners.

As we went along by the coast it was pointed out to me that it was
from this neighbourhood that some of the most indomitable of the
old-time pirates set sail on their expeditions to ravage the Chinese
coast. They visited that coast all the way from Vladivostock, now
Russian (and like to be Japanese), to Saigon, now French. There are
many Chinese books discussing effectual methods of repelling the
pirates. In an official Japanese work I once noticed, in the
enumeration of Japanese rights in Taiwan (Formosa), the naive claim
that long ago it was visited by Japanese pirates! The Japanese
fisherman is still an intrepid person, and in villages which have an
admixture of fishing folk the seafarers, from their habit of following
old customs and taking their own way generally, are the constant
subject of rural reformers' laments.

I spent some time in a typical inland village. The very last available
yard of land was utilised. The cottages stood on plots buttressed by
stone, and only the well-to-do had a yard or garden; paddy came right
up to the foundations. Now that the rice was high no division showed
between the different paddy holdings. I noticed here that the round,
carefully concreted manure tank which each farmer possessed had a
reinforced concrete hood. I asked a landowner who was in a comfortable
position what societies there were in his village. He mentioned a
society "to console old people and reward virtue." Then there was the
society of householders, such as is mentioned in Confucius, which met
in the spring and autumn, and ate and drank and discussed local
topics "with open heart." There were sometimes quarrels due to
_sake_. Indeed, some villagers seemed to save up their differences
until the householders' meeting at its _sake_ stage. At householders'
meetings where there was no _sake_ peace appeared to prevail. The
householders' meeting was a kind of informal village assembly. That
assembly itself ordinarily met twice a year. There were in the
village, in addition to the householders' organisation, the usual
reservists' association, the young men's society and agricultural
association. As to _ko_, from philanthropic motives my informant was a
member of no fewer than ten.

My host told me that he spent a good deal of time in playing _go_, but
in the shooting season (October 15 to April 15) he made trips to the
hills and shot pheasants, hares, pigeons and deer. In the garden of
his house two gardeners were stretched along the branches of a pine
tree, nimbly and industriously picking out the shoots in order to get
that bare appearance which has no doubt puzzled many a Western student
of Japanese tree pictures. Each man's ladder--two lengths of bamboo
with rungs tied on with string--was carefully leant against a pole
laid from the ground through the branches. Many of the well-cared-for
trees in the gardens and public places of Japan pass the winter in
neat wrappings of straw.

I visited a farm-house and found the farmer making baskets. When I was
examining the winnowing machine my companion reminded me smilingly
that when he was a boy he was warned never to turn the wheel of the
winnowing machine when the contrivance had no grain in it or a demon
might come out. There was a properly protected tank of liquid manure
and a well-roofed manure house. The family bath in an open shed was of
a sort I had not seen before, a kind of copper with a step up to it.
Straw rope about three-quarters of an inch in diameter was being made
by the farmer's son, a day's work being 40 yds. At another farm a
woman showed me the working of a rough loom with which she could in a
day make a score of mats worth in all 60 sen. From the farmer's house
I went to the room of the young men's association and looked over its
library. I was impressed by the high level of civilisation which this
village seemed to exhibit in essentials.

When we continued our journey we saw two portable water wheels by
means of which water was being lifted into a paddy. Each wheel was
worked by a man who continually ascended the floats. The two men were
able to leave their wheels in turn for a rest, for a third man was
stretched on the ground in readiness for his spell. It seems that a
man can keep on the water tread-mill for an hour. The two wheels
together were lifting an amazing amount of water at a great rate. When
the pumping is finished one of these light water wheels is easily
carried home on a man's shoulders.

Farther on I saw in a dry river bed a man sieving gravel in an
ingenious way. The trouble in sieving gravel is that if the sieve be
filled to its capacity the shaking soon becomes tiring. This man had a
square sieve which when lying on the ground was attached at one side
by two ropes to a firmly fixed tripod of poles. When the sieve was
filled the labourer lifted it far enough away from the tripod for it
to be swinging on one side. Therefore when he shook the sieve he
sustained a portion only of its weight.

As we rode along I was told that the largest taxpayer in the county
"does not live in idleness but does many good works." The next largest
taxpayer "labours every day in the field." When I enquired as to the
recreations of moneyed men I was told "travelling, _go_ and poem
writing."

As we rode by the sea a trustworthy informant pointed out to me an
islet where he said the young men have the young women in common and
"give permission for them to marry." There is a house in which the
girls live together at a particular time and are then free from the
attentions of the youths. Children born are brought up in the families
of the mothers but there is some infanticide. In another little island
off the coast there are only two classes of people, the seniors and
the juniors. Any person senior to any other "may give him orders and
call him by his second name." (The surname comes first in Japanese
names.)

Our route led us along the track of the new railway line which was
penetrating from Kagawa into Ehime. Not for the first time on my
journeys was I told of the corrupting influence exerted on the
countryside by the imported "navvies," if our Western name may be
applied to men who in figure and dress look so little like the big
fellows who do the same kind of work in England. Although these
navvies were a rough lot and our ancient _basha_ (a kind of
four-wheeled covered carriage) was a thing for mirth, we met with no
incivility as we picked our way among them for a mile or two. I was a
witness indeed of a creditable incident. A handcart full of earth was
being taken along the edge of the roadway, with one man in the shafts
and another pushing behind. Suddenly a wheel slipped over the side of
the roadway, the cart was canted on its axle, the man in the shafts
received a jolt and the cargo was shot out. Had our sort of navvies
been concerned there would have been words of heat and colour. The
Japanese laughed.

The reference to our venerable _basha_ reminds me of a well-known
story which was once told me by a Japanese as a specimen of Japanese
humour. A _basha_, I may explain, has rather the appearance of a
vehicle which was evolved by a Japanese of an economical turn after
hearing a description of an omnibus from a foreigner who spoke very
little Japanese and had not been home for forty years. The body of the
vehicle is just high enough and the seats just wide enough for
Japanese. So the foreigner continually bumps the roof, and when he is
not bumping the roof he has much too narrow a seat to sit on.
Sometimes the _basha_ has springs of a sort and sometimes it has none.
But springs would avail little on the rural roads by which many
_basha_ travel. The only tolerable place for Mr. Foreigner in a
_basha_ is one of the top corner seats behind the driver, for the
traveller may there throw an arm round one of the uprights which
support the roof. If at an unusually hard bump he should lose his hold
he is saved from being cast on the floor by the responsive bodies of
his polite and sympathetic fellow-travellers who are embedded between
him and the door. The tale goes that a tourist who was serving his
term in a _basha_ was perplexed to find that the passengers were
charged, some first-, some second-and some third-class fare. While he
clung to his upright and shook with every lurch of the conveyance this
problem of unequal fares obsessed him. It was like the persistent
"punch-in-the-presence-of-the-passengare." What possible advantage, he
pondered, could he as first class be getting over the second and the
second class over the third? At length at a steep part of the road the
vehicle stopped. The driver came round, opened the door, and bowing
politely said: "Honourable first-class passengers will graciously
condescend to keep their seats. Second-class passengers will be good
enough to favour us by walking. Third-class passengers will kindly
come out and push." And push they did, no doubt, kimonos rolled up
thighwards, with good humour, sprightliness and cheerful grunts, as is
the way with willing workers in Japan.

FOOTNOTES:

[173] At Anjo agricultural experiment station I saw eighteen kinds of
small threshing machines at from 13 to 18 yen. There were husking
machines of three sorts. A rice thresher was equal to dealing with the
crop of one _tan_, estimated at 2 _koku_ 4 _to_, in three hours.

[174] See Appendix XLVI.

[175] It is quite possible that the trees had also come into their
positions artificially. There are no more skilful tree movers than the
Japanese.

[176] It has recently come into collision with the authorities.
Another sect with Shinto ideas was also started by a woman.

[177] See Appendix XLVII.




CHAPTER XXV

"SPECIAL TRIBES"

(EHIME)

A frank basis of reality.--Meredith


In the prefecture of Ehime our journey was still by _basha_ or
_kuruma_ and near the sea. The first man we talked with was a _guncho_
who said that "more than half the villages contained a strong
character who can lead." He told us of one of the new religions which
taught its adherents to do some good deed secretly. The people who
accepted this religion mended roads, cleaned out ponds and made
offerings at the graves of persons whose names were forgotten. I think
it was this man who used the phrase, "There is a shortage of
religions."

I had not before noticed wax trees. They are slighter than apple
trees, but often occupy about the same space as the old-fashioned
standard apple. The clusters of berries have some resemblance to
elderberries and would turn black if they were not picked green.[178]
Occasionally we saw fine camphor trees. Alas, owing to the high price
of camphor, some beautiful specimens near shrines, where they were as
imposing as cryptomeria, had been sacrificed.

I began to observe the dreadful destruction wrought in the early ear
stage of rice not by cold but by wind. The wind knocks the plants
against one another and the friction generates enough heat to arrest
further development. The crops affected in this way were grey in
patches and looked as if hot water had been sprayed over them. In one
county the loss was put as high as 90 per cent. Happily farmers
generally sow several sorts of rice. Therefore paddies come into ear
at different times.

The heads of millet and the threshed grain of other upland crops were
drying on mats by the roadside, for in the areas where land is so much
in demand there is no other space available. Sesame, not unlike
snapdragon gone to seed, only stronger in build, was set against the
houses. On the growing crops on the uplands dead stalks and chopped
straw were being used as mulch.

I noticed that implements seemed always to be well housed and to be
put away clean. Handcarts, boats and the stacks of poles used in
making frameworks for drying rice were protected from the weather by
being thatched over.

We continued to see many white-clad pilgrims and everywhere touring
students, as often afoot as on bicycles. I noted from the registers at
many village offices that the number of young men who married before
performing their military service seemed to be decreasing. In one
community, where there were two priests, one Tendai and the other
Shingon, neither seemed to count for much. One was very poor, and
cultivated a small patch near his temple; the other had a little more
than a _cho_. The custom was for the farmers to present to their
temple from 5 to 10 _sho_ of rice from the harvest.

In connection with the question of improved implements I noticed that
a reasonably efficient winnowing machine in use by a comfortably-off
tenant was forty-nine years old--that is, that it dated back to the
time of the Shogun. The secondary industry of this farmer was
dwarf-plant growing. He had also a loom for cotton-cloth making. There
were in his house, in addition to a Buddhist shrine, two Shinto
shrines. After leaving this man I visited an ex-teacher who had lost
his post at fifty, no doubt through being unable to keep step with
modern educational requirements. He had on his wall the lithograph of
Pestalozzi and the children which I saw in many school-houses.

On taking the road again I was told that the local landlords had held
a meeting in view of the losses of tenants through wind. Most had
agreed to forgo rents and to help with artificial manure for next
year. I found taro being grown in paddies or under irrigation. Not
only the tubers of the taro but its finer stalks are eaten. I saw
gourds cut into long lengths narrower than apple rings and put out to
dry. I also noticed orange trees a century old which were still
producing fruit. Boys were driving iron hoops--the native hoop was of
bamboo--and one of the hoop drivers wore a piece of red cloth stitched
on his shoulder, which indicated that he was head of his class. One
missed a dog bounding and barking after the hoop drivers. Sometimes at
the doors of houses I noticed dogs of the lap-dog type which one sees
in paintings or of the wolf type to which the native outdoor dog
belongs. The cats were as ugly as the dogs and no plumper or happier
looking. When I patted a dog or stroked a cat the act attracted
attention.

We saw a good deal of _hinoki_ (ground cypress), the wood of which is
still used at Shinto festivals for making fire by friction.

We were able to visit an Eta village or rather _oaza_. Whether the Eta
are largely the descendants of captives of an early era or of a low
class of people who on the introduction of Buddhism in the seventh or
eighth century were ostracised because of their association with
animal eating, animal slaughter, working in leather and grave digging
is in dispute. No doubt they have absorbed a certain number of
fugitives from higher grades of the population, broken samurai,
ne'er-do-weels and criminals. The situation as the foreigner discovers
it is that all over Japan there are hamlets of what are called
"special tribes." In 1876, when distinctions between them and Japanese
generally were officially abolished, the total number was given as
about a million. Most of these peculiar people, perhaps three-quarters
of them, are known as Eta. But whether they are known as Eta or Shuku,
or by some other name, ordinary Japanese do not care to eat with them,
marry with them or even talk with them. In the past Eta have often
been prosperous, and many are prosperous to-day, but a large number
are still restricted to earning a living as butchers and skin and
leather workers, and grave diggers. The members of these "special
tribes," believing themselves to be despised without cause, usually
make some effort to hide the fact that they are Eta.

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