NANAO TO OZAKA OVERLAND

Next morning Sano and AbÉ presented themselves with the welcome news that everything was ready for our journey, and made many apologies for the inconveniences we should have to put up with. They had provided a handsome palanquin for each of us, and ordinary ones for Noguchi and Mitford's Chinese servant, the philosophic Lin-fu. A guard was furnished of twenty two-sworded men carrying long staves, under the command of an officer named Tominaga. We got away at half-past eight. Looking out to sea, we perceived that the "Basilisk" had departed, and that the "Serpent" was lying peacefully at anchor. The foreign department officials did not show up, and it was to be concluded that they had made up their minds to submit. So we were perfectly free, away from our chief, from Tycoon's officials, from any other Europeans, embarked on an adventure in a totally unknown part of the country, which might end anyhow for aught we cared, but at any rate was of an altogether novel character.

As soon as we were clear of the town we got out and walked. It was a piping hot day. Each man of the twenty who formed the escort as he went along fanned himself with one hand, and wiped the perspiration from his brow with a towel carried in the other. It soon became evident that we were to be treated with great distinction, for we had not travelled more than an hour and a half before we were invited to rest and refresh ourselves with delicious water melons and tea; nectarines were also offered, but of such fearful unripeness that we dared not make their close acquaintance. An hour further we had again to rest. Every one was excessively polite; the peasants whom we met were made to crouch down and take off their hats. This was much more than could have been expected after the scolding Sir Harry had given to Sano and his colleagues on the previous day. The road lay up a gradually narrowing valley, cultivated principally with rape and hemp. At a quarter past one we stopped for lunch at a clean inn where they gave us a capital meal. After a nap we resumed our way at three o'clock down another valley, stopped to rest at half-past four, and reached our night quarters at half-past six, having accomplished eighteen miles. This was the village of Shiwo, prettily situated on the banks of a tiny stream, and close to the mouth of a valley, the view up which into the hills growing ever higher and higher was one of the charming prospects in which Japan abounds. After the hot bath, they served an excellent dinner with many polite apologies for its badness.

The next day brought us some sixteen miles further to Tsubata, where we joined the high road which traverses the dominions of the daimiÔ from one end to the other at no great distance from the coast. Here our escort left us, and a new set of men took their place. We were now passing through a more populous part of the country, and were objects of intense curiosity to the inhabitants. At Morimoto the front rooms of the houses on both sides of the street were filled with spectators sitting in rows three or four deep or on mats placed at the side of the roadway.

Shortly after leaving this place we caught a glimpse of the white castle walls of Kanazawa peeping through the pine trees. As soon as we came in sight of the town itself we got into our palanquins, and were carried to one of the first houses, where we met Satomi and another official named TsunÉkawa. Crowds of spectators had assembled, and some of them were so eager to gratify their curiosity that they even stood in a muddy lotus pond which commanded a view of the back of the house where we were. Here delicious melons and apples were served with frozen snow from the mountains behind the town. Gold paper screens lined the walls, there were tables piled high with fruit and cakes, and in the recess behind the seat of honour a beautiful writing box of the finest gold lacquer, in case we wished to sit down and write letters. A most unnecessary piece of ceremonial preparation, one would say.

The officials asked us to proceed from here on foot in order that the people might see us better, but we preferred making use of our palanquins, as we had on our travelling garments, and were somewhat dusty and way-worn. The streets were thickly lined with spectators of all ranks and ages, among whom were some very pretty girls. Another charming resting place had been prepared for us, into which they obliged us to turn aside, although we had previously expressed our wish to go on straight to the inn. Continuing thence along the street, thickly filled with inquisitive but perfectly orderly townspeople, we crossed a bridge, and after turning a few times to right and left, at last reached our inn, rather tired with all the fuss and ceremony.

At the porch we were welcomed by Satomi, who had hurried on ahead to superintend our reception. He conducted us through several rooms into an inner room of great size, spread with a huge velvet-pile carpet and furnished with Chinese tables and scarlet-lacquered chairs such as the high priests of Buddhist temples occupy on grand ceremonial occasions. The host immediately presented himself, bowing his head to the floor as if he were saluting a pair of kings. Each servant who brought in the tobacco trays or tea bowed low to the ground, then advanced holding the article high in both hands, deposited it on the table, and then retiring backwards to the edge of the carpet, knocked his head on the floor again before withdrawing. We were conducted in turn to the bath with great ceremony, and then put on our best clothes (which were neither new nor good) to receive visitors. The first to call was a special messenger from the daimiÔ, to express a hope that we had not suffered from the heat, and rejoicing at our fortunate arrival. Mitford replied with great dignity that we had not felt the heat. We were deeply grateful for the hospitality and kindness shown to us, and would like to call on the daimiÔ to thank him in person. "My master," said the messenger, "is unfortunately indisposed, otherwise he would have been delighted to make your acquaintance." Mitford expressed a hope that he would soon recover. The real truth I imagine to have been that an interview between a daimiÔ and two foreigners would have involved far too important and complicated decisions on questions of etiquette for it to be lightly contemplated. The messenger added that he had been commanded by his master to offer us a small entertainment, and to accompany us in partaking of it. Mitford rose to even greater heights of flowery speech than before, and invented a message from Sir Harry Parkes (which if the chief did not actually charge us with, the omission could only be attributed to inadvertence), expressing his desire to swear eternal friendship with the daimiÔ and people of Kaga, which gave very great satisfaction to the messenger and everyone else present. Doctors were also introduced, whom the prince had deputed to attend on us in case we felt any ill-effects from the heat.

To this exchange of compliments succeeded a feast resembling in character what has already been described but far surpassing it in magnificence and the number of courses. Observing that our Japanese entertainers were not comfortable on their chairs, we proposed to banish the furniture and squat on the floor after the manner of the country, and thus facilitate the passing of the sakÉ cup. After a considerable time had been passed in general conversation, and everyone's head was more or less heated, we introduced political topics, which were discussed very confidentially in the presence of a crowd of people.

The structure of a Japanese house is such that no secrets can be whispered; there is always some one listening behind a paper partition or on the other side of a screen, and if you wish to hatch a plot, your best way is to transfer your deliberations to the middle of the garden, where you can keep off eavesdroppers. However, as we could not do that on the present occasion, it seemed better to take all who chose it into our confidence. The gist of the conversation amounted to this—that the Kaga people wished to trade with foreigners, but did not wish avowedly to make an open port of Nanao, because the Tycoon's government would then try to deprive them of it; but they would agree to its being an anchorage for foreign vessels, ancillary to Niigata, and to goods being landed there, in which case everything else would naturally follow. If the Tycoon's government were to inquire what view they took of the question, they would reply ambiguously. Our answer was that of course we desired to act in harmony with the wishes of the daimiÔ, and would do nothing that could possibly be prejudicial to his interests. This proved very satisfactory to our entertainers, who declared the warm feelings of friendship for us which animated them, and a stratagem, the details of which I do not recollect, was agreed upon for keeping up secret and confidential communications with them after our return to Yedo. Both sides bound themselves to secrecy, and the party broke up.

The bedding, which was of the most magnificent description, was then brought in, piles of soft, quilted mattresses covered with silk or crape, and stuffed with silk wool, and a large net of silk gauze was hung up to keep off the mosquitoes. Then a freshly-infused pot of green tea, with teacups, on a small tray, and the necessary apparatus for smoking, were gently slid under the bottom of the mosquito curtain, and the people of the house wished us a good night's rest. In the morning the very first thing, before we were awake, the same elements of a comfortable existence were provided in the same unobtrusive manner.

The forenoon was spent in choosing lacquer and porcelain. On the previous evening an arrangement had been made for our visiting the neighbouring hills, but some hitch had occurred, and we were now asked to accept instead an excursion to Kanaiwa, the port of Kanazawa. It lay at a distance of about five miles, so we started on horseback about three o'clock. Our steeds were rather shabby-looking ponies, unshod, with saddles in the European fashion covered with thick black paper instead of leather, and painfully stiff bridles of badly tanned leather. Noguchi was mounted on a pony splendidly caparisoned in the native style, and the philosophic Lin-fu, who could not ride, was put into a palanquin. Though we had such a very short way to ride, it was supposed that delicately nurtured persons like ourselves would feel the fatigue, and three resting places had been prepared, two on the road and one at Kanaiwa itself. The so-called port proved to be an open roadstead at the mouth of an insignificant stream, quite useless except in perfectly calm weather.

At dinner that evening we had some further talk with a couple of officials. They had come to the conclusion, after thinking over the conversation of the previous evening, that it would be their wisest course to admit to the Tycoon's government the probability of a certain amount of trade taking place at Nanao. In that way no danger would arise of their getting into trouble for what would otherwise be smuggling. We approved of this proposal, and suggested their sending to Yedo some one authorized to treat with the government and the foreign representatives. In the course of conversation on the domestic politics of the country, they said that in their opinion the Tycoon's government ought to be supported, and not done away with altogether, as the Satsuma and ChÔshiÛ people, with other clans, were believed to be advocating. But at the same time limits ought to be placed on its authority. They had read my pamphlet, and entirely approved of the suggestions it contained. After that, all one could say was that we entirely concurred in the views of the Kaga clan. As a matter of fact, these people were rather too remote from the main centre of political thought to be cognisant of or sympathise with the aspirations of the southern and western clans. They lay in an isolated position on the northern coast, in a part of the country that had always been looked upon somewhat as the home of ignorance and want of culture. They cared only for themselves. The lands held by the daimiÔ of Kaga were assessed at a much greater annual value than the fief of any other prince, which gave the clansmen an importance in the eyes of the rest of the world with which they were thoroughly satisfied; an alteration in the political organization of the country could hardly benefit them, and they were at bottom disposed to be contented with the status quo.

The British Legation, on the contrary, were determined that so far as their influence went, the Mikado should be restored to the headship of the nation, so that our treaties might receive a sanction that no one would venture to dispute, and for this purpose it was necessary that the constitution of the Tycoon's government should be modified in such a manner as to admit the principal daimiÔs (or clans rather) to a share in the distribution of power.

Our hosts would have been contented to keep us longer, but we were due at Ozaka at a fixed date, and could not stay with them. We resumed our journey, therefore, on the morning of August 14. The landlord was very urgent with us that we should call in passing at a shop for patent medicines kept by a relation, to lay in a stock of a preparation called "purple snow" (shi-setsu), composed chiefly of nitre and perfumed with musk, and believed to be a remedy for most of the ills to which flesh is heir. The streets were again crowded with eager spectators. When just clear of the town we were forced to alight from our kagos for a parting feast at a restaurant on a height commanding a picturesque view of the castle, which planted plentifully with trees presented a park-like aspect very unlike the grim fortresses which in Europe usually go by the name. Here we spent an hour eating fish and drinking sakÉ, and vowing eternal friendship with the Kaga clansmen, with whom previous to this visit we had had no intercourse whatever.

We lunched that day at MattÔ, where I had a long talk with the mayor upon things in general, in the presence of a vast and attentive crowd, and reached Komatsu in the evening, having accomplished twenty miles. This was very fair going, considering the numerous delays and stoppages for refreshment. The next day we passed the boundary line between the territories of Kanazawa and DaishÔji, where the escort was changed. At the latter town we found the streets entirely cleared, and crowds of people quietly sitting in the front rooms of the houses, among them many daughters of the best families in holiday garb, with wreaths of silver flowers on their heads, their faces nicely powdered with white lead, and their lips stained with the safflower dye which imparts such a curious metallic lustre to the skin. Here we took a formal farewell of Okada and ShimbÔ, two Kaga gentlemen who had accompanied us during the previous days. Mitford's Chinese servant came in for a share in the general leave-taking, and philosophically remarked that he did not understand Japanese etiquette, which appears to consist chiefly in the performance of the ko-t'ou.

About three miles further we finally quitted the domains of the Maeda family, and passed into the territory of Echizen. There was no guard to meet us, only a couple of policemen, and it was proposed that we should retrace our steps to a tea-house half a mile back, to wait till an escort could be procured. To this we objected, saying that we were willing to go on without a guard. The rusui or head bailiff of the daimiÔ of DaishÔji said that it would not be correct for his men to undertake our protection beyond the limits. Finally a compromise was effected. Okada and ShimbÔ, who in spite of the formal parting that had taken place at DaishÔji, were still of the party, borrowed ten men from the bailiff on the distinct understanding that they were not any longer a guard, and walked on with us. Shortly afterwards we met an Echizen official of low rank (he was a metsukÉ or assistant clerk), and our Kaga friends took their final leave of us, not without expressing the opinion that the Echizen people showed very little courtesy in not deputing some one of more exalted rank to offer us a welcome. But the fact was we were not welcome at all, as we speedily found, for although every possible pains had been taken to provide us with good food and quarters, the whole Echizen clan held aloof from us. For instance at Kanadzu, where we passed the night, the whole town was illuminated with coloured lanterns, and the spectators who crowded the main street went down on their knees in the usual respectful manner.

Very beautiful guest rooms had been prepared for us at a monastery, chairs and tables had been provided, and a couple of good little boys, of preternaturally solemn demeanour, sat on the floor behind us to fan away the mosquitoes. The superior civilization and resources of the country, as compared with Kaga, were exhibited by the production of beer and champagne. Next day we reached Fukui, the capital of the province, a town of about 40,000 inhabitants. Here again the streets had been cleared; spectators in their best were seated in rows in the shops, and looked just as if they had paid for their places, like the people who go to see the Queen open Parliament. I never saw so many pretty girls together anywhere. White brooms and buckets of water stood before each house, as a sign that the road had been swept clean and the dust laid. We were conducted to the monastery of the Hongwanji sect, a new and handsome building, where a large room had been prepared for us, and hung with silk crape curtains dyed with the Echizen crest. In the recess stood a beautiful vase containing a huge bouquet of lotus flowers, standing quite six feet high. The table was loaded with piles of fruit and cakes, and the usual Japanese luncheon was served, with champagne. No one approached us, with the exception of a young Japanese who had been in the service of a foreigner at Nagasaki and spoke a little English; but numbers of officials, some of high rank, collected in the passages to stare at us. We took no notice of them, adopting the perfectly cold and impassive manner of Orientals on their dignity. This was bad, but worse came behind.

Although on our quitting Fukui, they sent men before us to sweep the road ahead, our guards were rude, and chaffed about us among themselves. At FuchiÛ, the town where we stopped for the night, a noisy crowd pursued us from the entrance of the town to our lodging, running along the other side of the stream which lay along the middle of the street. Arrived at the inn, we found the dais room shut up, and the matted floors spread with shibukami, a sort of thick, tough paper in sheets, which is laid down when any particularly dirty household business is to take place. It is the correlative of the dust sheets used in England to cover up furniture when a weekly cleaning takes place. We were, of course, indignant, but I think these, to us, offensive precautions had been taken in the belief that we were ignorant of Japanese manners and customs, and would walk in with our shoes on.

The day after this we crossed the boundary on the top of a hill called the Tochinoki TÔgÉ (Horse-Chestnut Pass), where we said good-bye to the rude Echizen escort, and were taken charge of by men belonging to Ii Kamon no Kami, the daimiÔ of HikonÉ. A very moderate bill was presented to us for our board, lodging and coolie hire, which we paid, and we offered payment also for the extras in the shape of beer, champagne and fish, but could not induce the officials to accept it.

It is not very easy to explain why the Echizen people showed such an utter want of cordiality, but I think it may perhaps be attributable to the difficult position in which the clan then stood. Its head was closely allied to the Tycoon's family, being in fact descended from one of the sons of IyÉyasu, the founder of the Tycoonate. Although perfectly well aware of the difficulties in which the Tycoon was involved, he was not prepared to side with the Satsuma and ChÔshiÛ party, which aimed at the restoration of the Mikado, and was probably acquainted with the policy of the British Legation, as supposed to be set forth in my pamphlet. Intimacy with foreigners had never until quite lately been a part of the government programme, and the Echizen people very likely thought it wiser to hold entirely aloof from us, in spite of the recent change of attitude on the part of the Tycoon, especially as the south-western daimiÔs had never openly adhered to the policy of friendship with foreigners. The "expulsion of the barbarians" was still their ostensible party cry. So that on the whole I incline to the opinion that extreme caution was the keynote to the want of cordiality displayed by the Echizen folk.

We stopped that night at a little village among the hills called Naka-no-kawachi, where we could get nothing to eat but rice and tea. In ordinary years there are no mosquitoes here, owing to its elevation, and we had therefore considerable trouble in procuring mosquito curtains. The general aspect of the country reminded me closely of Scawfell Pass in Cumberland. At the further foot of the hills we passed one of those barriers, curious relics of a past full of suspicion, where no woman was allowed to pass, and where every man had to exhibit a passport. At Nagahama we met an official of the Tycoon's government named Tsukahara KwanjirÔ (brother of Tsukahara Tajima no Kami), with eighteen of the foreign guard, who henceforward charged themselves with our protection. Sir Harry Parkes had passed through here in May last in returning from his visit to Tsuruga, and we found the people disposed to be familiar and careless of our comfort. We felt that we were now little better than prisoners; farewell all jollity and all politeness on the part of the inhabitants. We hastened on as rapidly as possible, being now as anxious to get over the rest of our journey as we had in the beginning been disposed to loiter among a friendly population.

At Takamiya, where we lunched, we found the dais room closed against us, but I took the innkeeper and his servants roundly to task, and made them open it. After this, they recognized that we understood Japanese etiquette, and for their previous rudeness substituted perfect courtesy. As we were now about to quit the territory of Ii Kamon no Kami, we offered to settle our bill for lodging and coolie hire, but the official in charge refused to accept payment, alleging that he had received reiterated orders not to take anything from us. So we contented ourselves with addressing to him a letter of acknowledgment, and told him we would thank the daimiÔ's people on our return to Yedo. The local escort left us at Nakajiku, the boundary, and we were consigned to the care of the foreign guard, who concerned themselves very little on our behalf. The consequence of this was that the people crowded in upon us at every village, and were extremely rude in their behaviour. On our arrival at Musa I administered a quiet blowing-up to the commander of the guard, who promised that things should be better arranged for the morrow.

Next day we reached Kusatsu, where, to our surprise, we fell in with a couple more Tycoon's officials, whom I knew very well, TakabatakÉ GorÔ and a young fellow named KomÉda KeijirÔ, the latter of whom spoke English remarkably well. They told us that they had come overland from Yedo with Hirayama Dzusho no Kami, one of the Tycoon's second council, and had been dropped here by him to look after us. He had charged them to say to us that the temple of Ishiyama, just below the Seta Bridge, which had been closed to Sir Harry in May, would be shown to us, and was well worthy of a visit. This temple in fact lay on the route which Tsukahara had already persuaded us to adopt. We were to take boat at Kusatsu, descend the river which flows out of the Biwa Lake as far as the rapids, then walk for about a couple of leagues (five miles), and take boat again to Fushimi. This, he said, was a much shorter and pleasanter route than that which Wirgman and I had taken in May. We therefore jumped at the offer made on the part of Hirayama, whom we voted a capital fellow, and some amicable conversation followed on Japanese politics, in which they tried to persuade us that the positions taken up by my pamphlet were all wrong, but without success.

After they left, Noguchi came to me and said that the road over the hills to Uji, instead of being only ten or twelve miles, as had been represented to us, was in reality much nearer five-and-twenty, so that we could not possibly get there by mid-day. A misgiving immediately arose in my mind that there was something concealed behind all this solicitude about our seeing temples. Probably the Tycoon's officials wanted to get us away from Otsu, which lay on the direct route, and the vicinity of KiÔto, in order to prevent trouble with the anti-Tycoon party, such as had occurred in May when Sir Harry passed through there. I therefore despatched Noguchi to probe Tsukahara, and sent for the posting officer to inquire about the distances. What he told me only confirmed my suspicions, which I then mentioned to Mitford. We therefore resolved to go by Otsu and to run all risks. We had invited TakabatakÉ and the other man to dinner. Just before our guests arrived Noguchi returned, and I imparted my suspicions to him. He thought I was wrong. As soon as they came in, I announced to TakabatakÉ our intention of taking the usual route. He was greatly disconcerted, declared it would be very inconvenient, nay impossible. I replied that we were indifferent to temples and scenery, but extremely fond of saving time in travelling; and as the road by Otsu was the shorter, we would take it. Seeing that we were very firm in our resolve, he retired from the room, and got hold of Noguchi, whom he begged to use his influence. Noguchi thereupon called me outside for a private conversation, and urged me to adhere to the original arrangement. I replied that it was useless; we wanted to go by the shorter route, and if altering the arrangements as to boats, etc., cost money, we were willing to pay it. I returned to the dining-room, and my answer was communicated to TakabatakÉ, who thereupon called out KomÉda. KomÉda came back, and begged me in turn to come out; as soon as we were alone, he said that he wished to have a friendly talk, and confessed that the whole thing was a plant. I said that we knew it before, and had felt convinced that Tsukahara had been sent down from KiÔto by the Tycoon's prime minister (Itakura Iga no Kami) to hoodwink us. If they had told us the truth in the beginning, we would have complied with their wishes; but that now it was too late to talk to us of going so far out of our way merely to oblige them. We then returned to the dining-room again, and tried to proceed with our meal.

The three Japanese were very crestfallen, and became still more so when Mitford suddenly turned to KomÉda and said to him in English that if the private secretary (ometsukÉ) who had been sent down from KiÔto on this particular business would address to him a letter stating explicitly the reasons why they wished us to change our route, we would fall in with their wishes; otherwise we would go by Otsu, even if the guard should refuse to accompany us. After a little demur, they accepted his offer, as the easiest alternative, and TakabatakÉ went off to prepare the letter. We had great difficulty in obtaining a document to our minds. TakabatakÉ produced three drafts, one after the other, which had to be rejected, because it was alleged in them that we were travelling without the permission of the government, and the phraseology was so confused that it became impossible to make head or tail of it. At three o'clock in the morning they at last brought the fair copy of what we had insisted on being put down in black and white, namely that great complications had arisen at KiÔto in the previous May on account of Sir Harry's passing through Otsu, which was only six miles from the Mikado's capital, and begging Mitford as a favour to go by way of Uji. Great victory for us and corresponding defeat for the Japanese officials.

I had very little sleep that night, for we were on the move by a quarter to seven. We went in palanquins as far as the bridge of SÉta, and embarking in a boat, proceeded down the river to Ishiyama-dera. As soon as we were sighted by the priests in charge, they ran to shut the gates in our face. So much for Hirayama's promise of admission. It was a very hot day. We left the river to ascend and descend a series of little hills for four miles, and then came out by the river again. Here we got a scanty meal of rice and tea, all that was procurable in such an out-of-the-way spot. Then along the path for a mile or so by the river, which roared over its rocky bed between steep schistose hills, and then climbed a very stiff ascent, trying in the extreme under the burning August sun. At every peasant's hut they told us that it was still four miles to Uji. Frequently we had to stop and wash out our mouths by some scanty stream trickling from the rock. But at last we reached the summit, and gained a magnificent view of the great plain below, in the centre of which lies the mysterious and jealously guarded KiÔto, like a Japanese Mecca, in which it was death for the heathen foreigner to set his foot. To the left lay Fushimi, with its network of canals and rivers, far away in front the sacred top of Atagoyama. At four o'clock we got to Uji, hot and tired, having trudged our weary way almost unceasingly since noon. We rested for a couple of hours at a charming tea-house on the bank of the river close to the broken bridge. At six we embarked in a comfortable houseboat, and drifted rapidly down stream to Fushimi, where we got a bath and dinner at the official hotel. Noguchi afterwards told me that he had overheard some men there talking about the advisability of murdering us. However, they lacked the courage to carry out their idea, and we got away safely at nine in a large boat. It was too hot to sleep inside, so I lay all night on the gangway which ran along the gunwale, overhanging the water.

Early in the morning we reached Ozaka, washed our faces in the stream, dressed, and betook ourselves to the temple we had occupied in the spring. Sir Harry turned up in the afternoon, with the news of the murder of two sailors of H.M.S. "Icarus" at Nagasaki, as they were lying in a drunken sleep on the roadway in a low quarter of the town. Before this new outrage the tale of our experiences paled altogether in interest.