Our last view, on leaving the valley, was at the sheet of water already mentioned as the Bridal Veil, falling from such an immense height that it becomes in its course gauze-like, almost as thin as lace in appearance, notwithstanding its large body, which is evident enough when it reaches the rocky bed and joins the Merced, not far away. Around the base of the cliffs, promoted by the constant moisture, there was an abundant growth of vegetation and especially of ferns, of such size and variety as is seldom seen out of the tropics. An encampment of native Indians was located on the river's bank, under the shade of a grove of trees, adding to the picturesqueness of the scene during our visit. The fish and forest game close at hand afforded these aborigines ample food, besides which they had stored for winter use the acorn crop about them, which when ground makes good bread. They were sad looking creatures, far worse than the Spanish gypsies we afterwards saw in Andalusia. The Merced River, which winds through the valley, rises some twenty miles away towards the north, fed by the Yosemite Fall, a cataract unsurpassed in height by any other upon the globe. The vertical height of the fall is set down at 2,550 feet, though it is not composed of one perpendicular sheet of water. The reader will remember that the lands coming under the general term of the Yosemite Valley have been ceded by the National Government to the State of California, to be kept in its present wild and natural condition for all time. It must not be considered anticipatory, in the course of these notes, to say that in no other part of the world have we seen the natural beauty and grandeur of the Yosemite Valley surpassed.
When we commenced our return from the valley, early in the morning, heavy clouds hung over the mountain tops, but there was no other indication of bad weather; so we started off and struggled upwards with a stout team of six horses, the gentlemen walking to lighten the load and expedite the ascent. At the close of the first hour's progress a chilliness in the atmosphere called for extra clothing for those who remained in the coach, and presently a thin mist enshrouded us, cutting off all distant view. Up, up we plodded, steadily but slowly, until the mist turned to rain and then to hail, sharp and cutting. By the time we had reached Inspiration Point we were in the midst of a lively snow-storm. This was not only disagreeable, but dangerous, as it rendered the road slippery and obliterated the wheel tracks; unless these were carefully adhered to, we might at any moment be launched into the ever-threatening abyss. It was late in the season to attempt the passage, and our party was cautioned as to the risk which was connected with the expedition. The regular stages having been taken off for the season, ours was an extra, improvised for the occasion. Suddenly it began to grow lighter; the dark clouds, like the Arabs, folded their tents, and silently stole away. The sun, the warm, bright, morning sun, shone forth in marvelous splendor.
What a scene then burst upon our vision!
Pine, and fir, and tall spruce, every tree and shrub, in place of leaves, had assumed a dress of milk white feathers. How dazzling it was. The eye could hardly bear the strong reflected light. A forest of feathers! We had never seen this effect in such perfection before. And now the sun, kissing these feathery sprays with warmth and burning ardor, made them blush rosy red, like the cheeks of a young maiden pressed by amorous lips. The feathery robe of the branches was as frail as false modesty, and melted away like good resolutions under strong temptation, so that in half an hour the snow had entirely disappeared wherever the sun had discovered and visited it. The deep green of the uncovered foliage only sparkled with the dewy moisture that was left, as though dropping tears of shame at being thus denuded of their gauzy veil. Never shall we forget the varied and beautiful appearance of the foliage under these rapid changes. It was like a theatrical exhibition, where a nearly transparent scene dissolves before the eyes of the audience. The sky, before so dark and brooding, was now all smiles; the sun, after its dalliance with the foliage, seemed to have taken new life; and the atmosphere even became clear and transparent, as it had hardly been when we came up the other side of the mountain to enter the valley.
For a brief time the views were grand and far-reaching as we sped rapidly on our way, descending towards the plain. Undoubtedly it was safe enough, since accidents seldom happen; but it looked a little careless, to one not accustomed to the road, to come down its narrow winding course, just clearing such frightful chasms, drawn by a team of six horses at the full gallop. By degrees the weather changed again into a sombre mood; the clouds gathered in close array, and began to pelt us, first with hailstones, but, having apparently soon exhausted the supply, were content to soak us with a deluge of water. But we only laughed at this, for had we not accomplished the Yosemite in spite of prognostications to the contrary, and the assurance that it was too late in the season to attempt it? We were rejoiced now that we had not heeded the stories about people who had, in former seasons, been "snowed in" for weeks. It was nearly night when we reached Clark's, and we were in just the condition to appreciate the big fireplace of the sitting-room piled with unsawed cordwood, by which we dried our dripping clothes and rehearsed our experiences.
It not only rained that night, but it poured so that on the following morning, when we started for the Mariposa Grove of Big Trees, twelve miles off our regular route, the query arose whether a boat or a wheeled vehicle was the best conveyance for the purpose. We will not attempt to give a detailed account of what has been so often and so well described. Suffice it to say we visited the locality famous for its forest monarchs, in a quiet glade, thousands of feet up the slopes of the Sierra, and viewed those marvels with none the less interest because we were already familiar with their actual measurement. Our entire team, stage, driver, passengers, and horses, passed through the upright hollow trunk of one of the mammoth trees, which, though sufficiently decayed to admit of this, was still possessed of such vitality as to cause it to bear leaves to the topmost branches, three hundred feet above the ground. Our attention was called to the curious fact, that although these are the largest known trees in the world, yet their cones are no bigger than walnuts, and their seeds hardly a quarter of an inch in length. There are trees lying upon the ground in the immediate neighborhood, thrown down by tempests, which are believed to have been growing on the spot long before Christ first came upon earth, and others which are satisfactorily proven to have had thirteen hundred years' growth, by their clearly defined annual rings. How immense must have been the power required to uproot the huge trunks that lie here and there, like prostrate giants fallen in a confused fight. There are others, white with age, and bearing no leaves, but which still firmly retain their upright position, with outstretched skeleton arms defying the tempest.
We embarked on board the steamship Belgic, of the Occidental and Oriental line, from San Francisco, October 10, in a heavy rain storm, amid the usual bustle and commotion attendant upon the departure of a large passenger ship for a long voyage. Everything looked very cold, very dreary, and very damp, causing our spirits to partake of the same nature, when we realized that for three weeks or more this was to be our floating home. With space so circumscribed, ventilation was inadequate, and the cook's galley pungent. Finally the United States mail was passed on deck, the last loiterer was on board, the gangway was hauled on to the wharf by the stevedores; the engine gave three distressing whistles, not clear and sharp, but asthmatic ones, as though not having clearly made up its mind to whistle at all; the pilot took his station on the bridge, and the screw began to revolve. The bow-line was let go, so that the ship might swing by her stern hawser well clear of the wharf, then the order to let go the stern line was shouted, and we had literally bidden good-by to America for many a long month.
Presently, when we passed through the narrow strait known as the Golden Gate, and laid our course westward, we began to realize that five thousand miles of ocean flowed between us and the shore towards which we were steering. One is apt to have some serious reflections on such an occasion. What lay before us in the many thousand miles of land and ocean travel? What perils and experiences were to be encountered? Who could say that we should all, or indeed any of us, live to return to our several homes? At San Francisco our company was augmented by the addition of an Englishman, Mr. D – , of London, a stranger to us, but who came thither to join the party, making our number six in all.
Hundreds of large white sea-gulls hovered over and about the ship, as we lay our course due west. The harbor of Sail Francisco swarms with these marine birds, and a score of them followed the ship after the pilot left us. As we were watching them, an officer of the Belgic remarked: "They will follow us across the Pacific;" and certainly that number of sea-gulls actually appeared to do so, though whether they were always the same birds, it would be impossible to say. The flight of a sea-gull at times exceeds twenty miles an hour, while the Belgic, at her maximum speed, scarcely exceeded half that; and thus these swift-winged creatures often flew far ahead of the ship, but soon settled back again to watch our wake, from whence they got their food supply.
There were twenty-five cabin passengers, and about three hundred Chinese in the steerage. The latter were returning home after some years of labor and saving in this country, for few if any of them emigrate except with a fixed purpose of returning to the Celestial Empire sooner or later. The purser of the ship informed us that there was not one of them who had not at least a thousand dollars in specie with him, and many had three times that amount, which would be sufficient to support them for life and without labor in their native land. The same authority assured us that it did not cost over ten cents a day each to feed these men, they being quite content with boiled rice, three times a day, seasoned with a little dried fish or curry. Their passage money costs them forty-five dollars each, including food, so there is a liberal margin for profit to the ship. A careful estimate was made which showed that these passengers were taking out of the country over half a million of dollars in specie, though they had landed on our shores without a dollar in their pockets, and the number returning by the Belgic was below the general average. This proved the complaint of the people of San Francisco to be correct so far as figures went, namely, that the Chinese came to take away what they earned, and that they do not spend any of their wages in this country, living on almost nothing and hoarding what they receive. Still, there is another side to this case. We must remember that they leave behind them the result of their labor at least, which in fact represents just so much capital. It is Chinese labor which has built the railroads of California, dug her canals, forwarded her public works, erected the houses of San Francisco, discharged and loaded her shipping, until she has grown up to her present high position in the political and commercial world.
Six of our cabin passengers were missionaries, four ladies and two gentlemen, bound to Japan and China; the rest were travelers intent upon business or pleasure. Of these some were seriously prostrated by seasickness, and especially the ladies; but this finally passed away, the greatest sufferers being exempt from it during the last half of the voyage. The inevitable monotony of our daily life was somewhat oppressive, there being few events to vary it. Occasionally a whale was sighted, throwing up a small column of water, as it rose at intervals to the surface, and thus marking its course, leading the passengers to some discussion as to the nature of this monster of the deep, whether it was properly a fish at all. A whale can be as surely drowned in the water as a man, but this cannot be said of a fish. A whale differs also in many other respects from the finny tribe proper. They bring forth living young, they breathe atmospheric air through their lungs, in place of water through the gills, having a double heart and warm blood, like land animals. Their blow-holes on the top of the head answer to the nostrils of terrestrial animals. Many of these simple facts were quite new to some of our intelligent companions.
Flying-fish were frequently seen, queer little creatures with the nature of a fish and the ambition of a bird. Dolphins sometimes played round the ship for hours together, and a few hideous man-eating sharks kept in our wake day after day, as if they hoped for a stray victim to tumble from the decks and appease their cannibal appetites. The sea-gulls, already mentioned, with tireless pinions followed the ship thousands of miles to pick up the refuse from the cook's galley, – the mystery being how they could sustain such continuous flight, for though they were seen to light upon the water it was but for a moment, and they did not fail to keep up with the Belgic in her steady headway. Save the objects named there was nothing to engage the eye except the endless expanse of waters, which seemed to typify infinite space. Our course did not lie in the track of commerce, nor did we sight ship or land from the hour we sank the shores of America until just three weeks later, when the picturesque coast-line of Japan appeared upon the horizon. It was a voyage of storms and calms combined, sometimes the ocean for days being like a small inland lake, and then again in its rage tossing our ship about as though she were a mere fishing skiff, – the waves often making a clean breach over the hull, thoroughly drenching everything and everybody who happened to be on deck.
Persons who have only witnessed a storm in narrow seas, or near the coast, would be surprised to realize the difference in the waves on the broad Pacific. The short, chopping sea is changed into long, heavy swells, covering the expanse of waters with vast parallels separated by deep valleys, the distance from crest to crest being from one hundred and fifty to two hundred feet, when a heavy gale prevails. The height of the waves is measured from the trough to the crest, and is of course conjecture, but in a continuous storm which we realized on board the Belgic was certainly some thirty feet. One aspect was to us an unsolved problem: the storm being on our starboard quarter was so nearly aft as to give us some idea of the velocity of the waves, which was clearly much greater than that of the ship's progress, and yet they increased the speed of the Belgic scarcely at all. That is to say, these waves exercised little if any propelling force, but seemed to pass under our keel, causing the hull to pitch and roll so that it was quite impossible to stand without holding on to some substantial fixture. Old George Herbert, in his quaint way, advises people to praise the sea, but to keep on dry land.
Life on shipboard, as has been intimated, becomes a little trying after a week or ten days' experience. Tedium and monotony have a tendency to bring out the less amiable characteristics of passengers who are thus crowded together under peculiar circumstances. Even the most equable disposition is liable sometimes to exhibit weakness. Where there are many passengers thorough agreement becomes hardly possible. Hasty confidences and abrupt prejudices are both the outgrowth of such enforced association. Reading is a great and intelligent resort at sea, but do not let the student flatter himself that he will find time and opportunity for study. Sea-life is antagonistic to such an idea, and the best resolves in that direction will end in idleness and disappointment.
The crew, the waiters, and the cooks of the Belgic were all Chinamen, and it must be admitted that in each capacity the service rendered was excellent. It seems to be generally acknowledged that when a Chinaman knows what is required of him, he will faithfully perform the duty, and, entirely unlike most employees, does not need the watchful eye of a master constantly over him. The ship was well officered by Englishmen, was scrupulously neat and clean; there was no loud talk or reiterated orders in its management; the effective arm of discipline was felt but not seen. To observe the Chinese passengers was a source of some amusement. In fine weather they crowded the forward and lower deck aft, not being permitted to infringe upon the cabin-passengers' deck. They squatted in picturesque groups round the hatchways much of the time, playing cards and dominoes for very small stakes of money. John is by nature a gambler, and cannot resist its fascination. The dull noxious smell that permeated their quarters at all times, in spite of enforced ventilation and the well-observed rules of the ship, was often wafted unpleasantly towards our cabins and deck, telling a significant story of the opium-pipe, and a certain uncleanliness of person peculiar to Africans and Mongolians. When the sea became rough and the ship labored with the storm, a visible anxiety was depicted on the Mongol faces as they gathered in groups and gave up all attempts at amusement. On such occasions they prepared pieces of joss-paper, bearing some Chinese characters, and cast them overboard to appease the presumed anger of the special gods who control the sea.
As we were losing one hour in each fifteen degrees of our course, or, to state it perhaps more clearly, in each thousand miles of progress westward, when half round the world from Greenwich twelve hours would be lost. It is therefore customary to drop a day in mid-ocean, which we did on crossing the hundred and eightieth degree of longitude west and east of Greenwich. When the traveler shall have reached Greenwich again on this course, the remaining twelve hours will be exhausted, and his time will agree with that of the starting-point. During the voyage two of the Chinese passengers died, and were embalmed by the surgeon of the ship. It is a conviction of these people that their soul cannot rest in peace unless their ashes be buried in their native land. When a Chinaman dies in a foreign country, sooner or later his remains are carried home for interment. If only the bones are left, they are finally dug up and thus disposed of by surviving friends. This sort of cargo has formed no small source of profit to ships sailing west from San Francisco, bones and bodies being shipped like merchandise.
As we crept slowly at half speed into the harbor of Yokohama, among the merchant shipping, surrounded by a myriad of little shore-boats, steering in and out through the Russian, English, and Japanese men-of-war, the twilight was gradually approaching; and when we rounded to, three hundred yards from the shore, under the lee of the United States sloop-of-war Richmond and let go our anchor, she fired her evening gun. At the same moment her band, in recognition of the flag that floated from our topmast head, as we carried the American mail, poured forth the strains of the "Star-Spangled Banner" with a thrilling spirit which caused a quick and hearty cheer fore and aft the Belgic. Perhaps it is necessary for one to be thousands of miles from home, and to have just arrived in a foreign port from a long sea voyage, to fully appreciate this little incident.
CHAPTER II
Landing in Japan. – Characteristic Street Scenes. – Native Bazars. – Women of Yokohama. – Excursion into the Country. – Visit to Kamakura. – Peculiar Scenes on the Road. – A Wonderful Bronze Statue. – Popular Religions of the Country. – The Hakone Pass. – A Youthful Mother. – Native Jugglers. – Temple of Shiba. – Review of the Soldiery. – Ludicrous Sights. – A Native Fair at Tokio. – A Poor Japanese Woman's Prayer.
Passengers arriving at Yokohama are obliged to land in small boats, as there are no wharfs; and vessels, on account of shallow water, anchor half a mile off shore. A small steam-tug came for us, and we found very comfortable quarters at the Windsor Hotel, kept by an American, – a large, well-organized establishment. The housemaids were little Japanese men dressed in black tights, but very quick, intelligent, and desirous to please. The servants all spoke English; indeed it is the commercial language of the world, and there are few ports open to commerce where it does not form the basis of all business transactions. French is the polite or court language of many countries, and with these two tongues at command, one can get along easily in nearly any populous region of the globe.
When Commodore Perry, in 1854, cast anchor with his little fleet of American men-of-war in the harbor of Yokohama, it was scarcely more than a fishing village, but the population to-day must exceed a hundred and thirty thousand. The space formerly covered by rice fields and vegetable gardens is now laid out in well-built, wide thoroughfares, smoothly macadamized and faultlessly clean and neat. The town extends along the shore, which is level, but is backed by a half-moon of low, well-wooded hills, among which are the private dwellings of the foreign residents, built after the European style, on the location known as the Bluff. The two principal hotels, the club-houses, and some consular business residences, are located on the water-front, a wide thoroughfare known as the Bund. A deep, broad canal surrounds the city, passing by the large warehouses and connecting with the bay at each end, is crossed in its course by half a dozen handsome bridges.
Ascending the bluff one gets a fine and extended view, embracing the city on one side and Jeddo Bay on the other, with a foreground composed of the harbor of Yokohama, where more or less shipping, representing foreign nations, is always to be seen. In the distant west, over seventy miles away, the white, cloud-like cone of Fujiyama can be clearly discerned, while close at hand are the charming, villa-like residences of the European settlers. Towards Mississippi Bay, as it is called, numerous native gardens are to be seen, with cultivated fields of millet, cotton, rice, and buckwheat. On getting nearer to them, one discovers sweet potatoes, egg-plants, and a queer vegetable called the daicum, of which great use is made by the people. It resembles an elongated turnip, is about as large round as one's wrist, and milk white. On the path leading round the base of the bluff were many pretty wild-flowers, among which the blooming trefoil and the harebell were seen intermingled with a large and handsome species of daisy. The starwort, a great favorite with the Japanese, was met in abundance. It will be remembered that this flower forms part of the Mikado's arms. It was November, but the winter sleep of the flowers is brief here, and there are said to be no days in the year when a pretty bouquet may not be gathered in the open air. Ferns burst forth in abundance about the bluff, and so great is the variety, that of this special plant, one is constantly tempted to form a collection. Here and there among the undergrowth were patches of soft, pea-green moss, of a velvety texture, that no cunning of the loom can equal.
There is a smart, business-like aspect to everything in Yokohama; the impression upon the stranger is that he is in a wide-awake community. The first business of a traveler upon arriving in a new country is not to look up its history, nor to study its geography or political economy. He should be at least grounded in these already; he follows his natural instincts, guided by curiosity, shrewdly watching the out-door life about him, the dress of the people, the architecture of the houses, modes of conveyance, mechanical operations, the fruits, flowers, and shop-windows, and especially the manners of the women, their status as it regards treatment, occupation, and the respect accorded to them. Nothing is so sure a keynote or test of civilization and progress as this. We do not look to see women receive, even in Europe, much less in the East, such chivalric deference and respect as are shown to them in America, but the nearer any people imitate us in this respect, the more advanced will they be found in the other refined amenities of social life.
In this commercial capital of Japan everything struck us as curious, every fresh step afforded increased novelty, every new sight was a revelation, while all about us were tangible representations of the impossible pictures of the cheap fans, the lacquered ware of commerce, and the school books. The partial nudity of men, women, and children, the extremely simple architecture of the dwelling-houses, the vegetation, the extraordinary salutations between the common people who met each other upon the streets, the trading booths or bazars, and the queer, toy-like articles which filled them, children flying kites in the shape of hideous yellow monsters, each subject became a fresh study. Men propelling vehicles like horses between the shafts, and trotting off at a six-mile pony gait while drawing after them one or two persons with ease, was at first a singular aspect to a stranger. So were the naked coolies, by fours, bearing heavy loads of merchandise swung from their shoulders upon stout bamboo poles, while they shouted a measured chant by which to keep step. No beggars were seen on the public streets, the people without exception seeming neat and clean in their remarkably scanty covering.
The houses were special examples of neatness and of toy-like size, being seldom more than twenty feet square. All persons, foreigners or natives, took off their shoes before entering upon their delicately-lacquered or polished floors. This we not only did out of respect to the universal custom of the country, but because one did not feel like treading upon those floors with nailed heels or soiled leather soles. The conviction was forced upon us that such universal neatness and cleanliness must extend even to the moral character of the people. A spirit of gentleness, industry, and thrift was observable everywhere, imparting an Arcadian atmosphere. We saw at first no domestic animals except a tailless cat, with an attempt at that appendage, which was a decided and ignominious failure. These creatures were frequently tied to the house door like a dog, but for what purpose who can say? A cat confined after that fashion elsewhere would strangle itself directly. Later on we saw specimens of the curious lap-dogs of the country, so diminutive as to be quite remarkable, and which were highly prized, though one could see no beauty or attraction in their snub noses and big, bulging eyes. Great care is taken in the breeding of these oddities, which at their perfection are thoroughly useless. Some dwarfing process is employed, as they do not exceed ten inches in length when full grown.
Cows' milk is unknown among the natives, though the universal drink is tea without sugar, and by no means strong. The general food is rice and vegetables seasoned with dried fish, but no meats. Some domestic fowls were seen, not in abundance, and the eggs are used for domestic purposes. Doubtless the fowls are also eaten, but the average Japanese is satisfied with rice and vegetables, adding the inevitable cup of tea three or four times a day. Women carry their children lashed to their backs like American Indians, and thus encumbered perform field labor or domestic work, without seeming in the least to realize their double task. The elder children carry the younger ones in the same manner, going about their play with a load on their backs that would stagger a Yankee child. This we found to be a universal custom both in town and country, while the great multiplicity of young children was a constant subject of surprise. The married women shave off their eyebrows and blacken their teeth as evidences of wifehood, the effect being hideous, which indeed is the wife's professed object; and, like the ancient Grecian ladies, they count their age from the time of marriage, not from the time of birth. The ideas of strangers as to the proprieties are sometimes severely outraged; but habit and custom make law, and men and women bathe promiscuously in the public baths, – notwithstanding which there is a spirit of delicacy and good breeding among them, in itself a species of Christianity. Windows are glazed with rice paper in place of glass, and the light is really but little impeded, though one cannot see through the paper, all of which circumstances fix themselves on the memory.
The pictures and authorities relative to Japanese life which one has accepted as authentic have not quite prepared the traveler for the facts and experiences which crowd upon him, when among this very interesting race. The actual embodiment of the people, their manners and customs, together with the local surroundings, are all so different from the preconceived ideal, that everything comes with the force of a surprise. Figure, physiognomy, costume, nudity, – one is not quite prepared for anything; all is like a fresh revelation. Once brought face to face with Japanese life, our fabric of anticipation tumbles to pieces like a house of cards. Everything is unique. There is no criterion for comparison. Nothing but personal observation quite reconciles one with the manners and customs of a race, powerfully individualized by the isolation of centuries. The generally accepted idea that the Japanese resemble the Chinese in their lives and habits is entirely erroneous, the marked differences between them extend into all the relations of life. Especially is this the case as to courtesy and civility, qualities which cost nothing, but which buy everything.