SMALL objects beautiful to contemplate, exquisite in workmanship, intrinsically valuable, and at the same time rich in historical associations have attracted men of all ages. Little wonder it is that the collector of the objects for art of the Japanese craftsmen finds in them an ever refreshing delight. The tsuba, or sword-guards of Japan, are famed for their workmanship, beauty of design, and historic interest, while their rarity is not such as to discourage the collector. A few years ago, indeed, these remarkable examples of the skill of the old-time Japanese metal-workers could have been picked up in the Japanese shops in America and Europe for a song. Though the price has advanced precipitously, fine specimens of sword-guards may still be had at far from prohibitive prices, when one considers that almost every tsuba can be counted a supreme example of the metal-worker’s art. There are no two genuine Japanese sword-guards precisely alike. Each is distinctly an original and unique object into whose fashioning has gone the best effort of those tirelessly patient and conscientious craftsmen of the Flowery Kingdom.

Feudal Japan has disappeared, and with it the need of the old armorers’ art. Fifty-eight years ago a noted Japanese official sought in vain throughout Yedo—now Tokyo—for a countryman who might prove to be conversant with the English language, a fact that gives one an intimation of the rapidity with which the old order of things has been thrown off and the new taken on. It was just forty years ago that an imperial edict abolished the wearing of swords. The edict was obeyed without a single known instance of resistance, and the shops of Kyoto, Tokyo, and Ozaka dealing in art objects soon bristled with ancient swords and sword “furniture” from those samurai who a few months before held their swords as sacred as their persons.

It is clear that, as a result of this edict, a vast number of swords were brought into the market. Naturally enough, as collectors had not then discovered the tsuba, countless sword-guards were thrown into the melting-pot. Later, when European, American, and Japanese connoisseurs came to rescue the tsuba from oblivion, the native craftsmen, still possessors of a recent heritage of skill, fell to making sword-guards for the market. Yet even these late nineteenth-and, one must suspect, twentieth-century tsuba are often beautiful, ingenious, and interesting enough to be desirable acquisitions on their own account.

In a land where the regard for the honor of the sword had evolved an etiquette and almost a religion it is not strange that the art-loving nation which conceived this regard should have applied its finest ability to the decoration of the sword accessories, until finally these became veritable treasure-troves recording the history and traditions of the country as well as its symbolism and even its physical aspect.

The “furniture” of a Japanese sword consists primarily of the tsuba, or guard,—a circular or oval (sometimes square and occasionally irregular) piece of metal, with a triangular aperture to receive the sword-blade. On each side is a smaller opening to receive the top of each of the two smaller implements that accompany many of the Japanese swords—the kozuka or handle of the short dagger, or kokatana, and the kogai, a skewer-shaped instrument. After the tsuba or sword-guard come the smaller ornaments placed one on each side of the hilt to enable the wielder of the sword to have a firmer grasp of it. These small metal ornaments are called menuki. We find them, too, on the scabbards of swords, especially on the daggers or wakizashi. Of great beauty and interest are the kashira, metal caps fitting the heads of the sword-handles, secured in place by means of cords laterally placed. The fuchi are oval rings through which the blade passes; they encircle the bases of the handles where the blade is secured. The kurikata are cleats for securing the cords (sageo) which held back the warrior’s sleeve whilst he was fighting. And finally there is the kojiri, the metal endpiece of the scabbard.

There is not one of the ornamental decorations of a Japanese sword that would not have awakened the admiration and envy of Benvenuto Cellini. And to think that after the edict of 1877 there were, literally, millions of them relegated to the rubbish heaps of the Japanese junkmen! Too few of the menuki escaped being melted up. Theirs is a fascination difficult to resist; but the tsuba more directly engages our attention for the present, and the smaller ornaments have been referred to here only in order that the reader may have some suggestion of their relationship to the tsuba.

The earliest name of a sword-guard maker to be met with is that of Mitsutsune (1390), Kaneiye of Fushimi, Umetada, Shigeyoshi (a renowned swordsmith), Goto Yujo (died 1504), Miochin Nobuiye (1507-1555), Iranken Yamakichi (1570) and Hoan were all renowned for their tsuba at a later period. Nobuiye’s work was distinguished for the thin soft iron with a thick patina, reddish in hue. His tsuba bear traces of the hammer, as do the tsuba of his followers for a considerable period. To Goto Yujo (1426-1504) and other members of the Goto family Japanese connoisseurs give preference. A Japanese expert at once recognizes in the Goto tsuba the iyÉbori or style of the family whose genius produced them.

The work on those sword-guards whose surface is punched into a texture of small dots until it resembles fish roe is called nanakoji, and for tsuba so finished the Goto family were without rivals. MoslÉ suggests that one of the requisites in the Japanese connoisseur’s education is to recognize the iyÉbori (personal style) of the first thirteen generations of the Goto!

Piercing, chasing, and, in a few instances, inlaying and damascening came into the practice of the metal-workers with the advent of the sixteenth century. Umetada Shigeyoshi, who has been called the “master of masters,” began the free use of the graver in ornamentation. To him mainly are due the decorative changes that marked the tsuba which were made during this period. The close of the sixteenth century brought a stretch of two hundred and fifty peaceful years after the turbulence that had shaken Japan until then. Naturally, in the years of war the sword of the Japanese fighter called for guards practical and tough in texture, something that would deflect the powerful blow of an opponent. In the years of peace the tsuba were mainly adapted to court use and for the adornment of the person. The tsuba-makers of Osaka produced marvels of damascening in gold and silver on iron. The second Kaneiye encrusted his sword-guards with copper ornament, and Hirata Donin introduced the use of translucent enamels. The pierced work of Kinai of Echizen is supreme in its elegance of form.

The close of the seventeenth century gave rise to three schools of tsuba decoration—the Nara School, revolting against the academic style of the Goto, as did the Yokoya School, and the Omori School. In the work of the masters of all three of these schools, the Goto influence may still be traced, even though these metal-workers tried to get away from it.

The School of Ishiguro, Yedo, of the early part of the nineteenth century came to be famous for its flat incised work, introducing colored surfaces. Kano Natsuo may be mentioned as the last tsuba-maker of distinction. The tsuba of the period between 1840 and 1870 were very elaborately decorated, and obviously could never have been used for their professed purpose. However, the collector will wish to acquire specimens of them, if only as examples of the marvelous handicraft of the Japanese metal-workers.

Nearly all of the imitations of genuine old tsuba can be detected by holding the guard on one’s fingertip and striking it sharply with another piece of metal. The genuine tsuba will emit a bell-like sound, the cast imitation a dull one. A perfect patina is always to be sought for in a tsuba.

One of the most important styles of ornamenting metal is Zogan, a process which includes damascening and is sub-divided into: Honzogan work, in which an undercutting retains the hammered-in inlay (if flush with the surface, this is called Hirazogan, and if it is in relief, Takazogan), and Nunomezogan work, which derives its name from a surface incised to represent linen mesh. The second style of ornamental working is included under the names Kebori and Katakiri. With kebori work the lines are finely cut, and the word designating this class of work signifies “hair lines engraved.” Katakiri work produces engraved lines varying in depth to produce the effect of painting. The Japanese hold this style in high favor. The third style of ornamental metal-work is Nikubori; work in this style is carved in relief, low relief being distinguished by the name, Unsunikubori, and high relief, Takabori. The final style is Uchidashi. This metal-work is repoussÉ, and is often to be found in combination with nikobori.

The subject of Japanese metal-work must ever prove one of fascination to the student or collector, and even a very small collection of tsuba will serve to cover the general field of representative styles. Like so many other articles of collection appeal, they combine the two interests of former utility and present beauty.