<h2><SPAN name="page137"></SPAN>LETTER XIX.</h2>
<p class="gutsumm">Prosperity—Convict Labour—A New
Bridge—Yamagata—Intoxicating Forgeries—The
Government Buildings—Bad Manners—Snow
Mountains—A Wretched Town.</p>
<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Kanayama</span>,
<i>July</i> 16.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Three</span> days of travelling on the
same excellent road have brought me nearly 60 miles.
Yamagata <i>ken</i> impresses me as being singularly prosperous,
progressive, and go-ahead; the plain of Yamagata, which I entered
soon after leaving Kaminoyama, is populous and highly cultivated,
and the broad road, with its enormous traffic, looks wealthy and
civilised. It is being improved by convicts in dull red
<i>kimonos</i> printed with Chinese characters, who correspond
with our ticket-of-leave men, as they are working for wages in
the employment of contractors and farmers, and are under no other
restriction than that of always wearing the prison dress.</p>
<p>At the Sakamoki river I was delighted to come upon the only
thoroughly solid piece of modern Japanese work that I have met
with—a remarkably handsome stone bridge nearly
finished—the first I have seen. I introduced myself
to the engineer, Okuno Chiuzo, a very gentlemanly, agreeable
Japanese, who showed me the plans, took a great deal of trouble
to explain them, and courteously gave me tea and sweetmeats.</p>
<p>Yamagata, a thriving town of 21,000 people and the capital of
the <i>ken</i>, is well situated on a slight eminence, and this
and the dominant position of the <i>kenchô</i> at the top
of the main street give it an emphasis unusual in Japanese
towns. The outskirts of all the cities are very mean, and
the appearance of the lofty white buildings of the new Government
Offices above the low grey houses was much of a surprise.
The streets of Yamagata are broad and clean, and it has good
shops, among which are long rows selling nothing but ornamental
iron kettles <SPAN name="page138"></SPAN><span class="pagenum">p.
138</span>and ornamental brasswork. So far in the interior
I was annoyed to find several shops almost exclusively for the
sale of villainous forgeries of European eatables and drinkables,
specially the latter. The Japanese, from the Mikado
downwards, have acquired a love of foreign intoxicants, which
would be hurtful enough to them if the intoxicants were genuine,
but is far worse when they are compounds of vitriol, fusel oil,
bad vinegar, and I know not what. I saw two shops in
Yamagata which sold champagne of the best brands, Martel’s
cognac, Bass’ ale, Medoc, St. Julian, and Scotch whisky, at
about one-fifth of their cost price—all poisonous
compounds, the sale of which ought to be interdicted.</p>
<p>The Government Buildings, though in the usual confectionery
style, are improved by the addition of verandahs; and the
<i>Kenchô</i>, <i>Saibanchô</i>, or Court House, the
Normal School with advanced schools attached, and the police
buildings, are all in keeping with the good road and obvious
prosperity. A large two-storied hospital, with a cupola,
which will accommodate 150 patients, and is to be a medical
school, is nearly finished. It is very well arranged and
ventilated. I cannot say as much for the present hospital,
which I went over. At the Court House I saw twenty
officials doing nothing, and as many policemen, all in European
dress, to which they had added an imitation of European manners,
the total result being unmitigated vulgarity. They demanded
my passport before they would tell me the population of the
<i>ken</i> and city. Once or twice I have found fault with
Ito’s manners, and he has asked me twice since if I think
them like the manners of the policemen at Yamagata!</p>
<p>North of Yamagata the plain widens, and fine longitudinal
ranges capped with snow mountains on the one side, and broken
ranges with lateral spurs on the other, enclose as cheerful and
pleasant a region as one would wish to see, with many pleasant
villages on the lower slopes of the hills. The mercury was
only 70°, and the wind north, so it was an especially
pleasant journey, though I had to go three and a half <i>ri</i>
beyond Tendo, a town of 5000 people, where I had intended to
halt, because the only inns at Tendo which were not
<i>kashitsukeya</i> were so occupied with silk-worms that they
could not receive me.</p>
<p><SPAN name="page139"></SPAN>The
next day’s journey was still along the same fine road,
through a succession of farming villages and towns of 1500 and
2000 people, such as Tochiida and Obanasawa, were frequent.
From both these there was a glorious view of Chôkaizan, a
grand, snow-covered dome, said to be 8000 feet high, which rises
in an altogether unexpected manner from comparatively level
country, and, as the great snow-fields of Udonosan are in sight
at the same time, with most picturesque curtain ranges below, it
may be considered one of the grandest views of Japan. After
leaving Obanasawa the road passes along a valley watered by one
of the affluents of the Mogami, and, after crossing it by a fine
wooden bridge, ascends a pass from which the view is most
magnificent. After a long ascent through a region of light,
peaty soil, wooded with pine, cryptomeria, and scrub oak, a long
descent and a fine avenue terminate in Shinjô, a wretched
town of over 5000 people, situated in a plain of rice-fields.</p>
<p>The day’s journey, of over twenty-three miles, was
through villages of farms without <i>yadoyas</i>, and in many
cases without even tea-houses. The style of building has
quite changed. Wood has disappeared, and all the houses are
now built with heavy beams and walls of laths and brown mud mixed
with chopped straw, and very neat. Nearly all are great
oblong barns, turned endwise to the road, 50, 60, and even 100
feet long, with the end nearest the road the
dwelling-house. These farm-houses have no paper windows,
only <i>amado</i>, with a few panes of paper at the top.
These are drawn back in the daytime, and, in the better class of
houses, blinds, formed of reeds or split bamboo, are let down
over the opening. There are no ceilings, and in many cases
an unmolested rat snake lives in the rafters, who, when he is
much gorged, occasionally falls down upon a mosquito net.</p>
<p>Again I write that Shinjô is a wretched place. It
is a <i>daimiyô’s</i> town, and every
<i>daimiyô’s</i> town that I have seen has an air of
decay, partly owing to the fact that the castle is either pulled
down, or has been allowed to fall into decay. Shinjô
has a large trade in rice, silk, and hemp, and ought not to be as
poor as it looks. The mosquitoes were in thousands, and I
had to go to bed, so as to be out of their reach, before I had
finished my wretched meal of sago and <SPAN name="page140"></SPAN>condensed milk. There was a
hot rain all night, my wretched room was dirty and stifling, and
rats gnawed my boots and ran away with my cucumbers.</p>
<p>To-day the temperature is high and the sky murky. The
good road has come to an end, and the old hardships have begun
again. After leaving Shinjô this morning we crossed
over a steep ridge into a singular basin of great beauty, with a
semicircle of pyramidal hills, rendered more striking by being
covered to their summits with pyramidal cryptomeria, and
apparently blocking all northward progress. At their feet
lies Kanayama in a romantic situation, and, though I arrived as
early as noon, I am staying for a day or two, for my room at the
Transport Office is cheerful and pleasant, the agent is most
polite, a very rough region lies before me, and Ito has secured a
chicken for the first time since leaving Nikkô!</p>
<p>I find it impossible in this damp climate, and in my present
poor health, to travel with any comfort for more than two or
three days at a time, and it is difficult to find pretty, quiet,
and wholesome places for a halt of two nights. Freedom from
fleas and mosquitoes one can never hope for, though the last vary
in number, and I have found a way of “dodging” the
first by laying down a piece of oiled paper six feet square upon
the mat, dusting along its edges a band of Persian insect powder,
and setting my chair in the middle. I am then insulated,
and, though myriads of fleas jump on the paper, the powder
stupefies them, and they are easily killed. I have been
obliged to rest here at any rate, because I have been stung on my
left hand both by a hornet and a gadfly, and it is badly
inflamed. In some places the hornets are in hundreds, and
make the horses wild. I am also suffering from inflammation
produced by the bites of “horse ants,” which attack
one in walking. The Japanese suffer very much from these,
and a neglected bite often produces an intractable ulcer.
Besides these, there is a fly, as harmless in appearance as our
house-fly, which bites as badly as a mosquito. These are
some of the drawbacks of Japanese travelling in summer, but worse
than these is the lack of such food as one can eat when one
finishes a hard day’s journey without appetite, in an
exhausting atmosphere.</p>
<p><i>July</i> 18.—I have had so much pain and fever from
stings <SPAN name="page141"></SPAN><span class="pagenum">p.
141</span>and bites that last night I was glad to consult a
Japanese doctor from Shinjô. Ito, who looks twice as
big as usual when he has to do any “grand”
interpreting, and always puts on silk <i>hakama</i> in honour of
it, came in with a middle-aged man dressed entirely in silk, who
prostrated himself three times on the ground, and then sat down
on his heels. Ito in many words explained my calamities,
and Dr. Nosoki then asked to see my “honourable
hand,” which he examined carefully, and then my
“honourable foot.” He felt my pulse and looked
at my eyes with a magnifying glass, and with much sucking in of
his breath—a sign of good breeding and
politeness—informed me that I had much fever, which I knew
before; then that I must rest, which I also knew; then he lighted
his pipe and contemplated me. Then he felt my pulse and
looked at my eyes again, then felt the swelling from the hornet
bite, and said it was much inflamed, of which I was painfully
aware, and then clapped his hands three times. At this
signal a coolie appeared, carrying a handsome black lacquer chest
with the same crest in gold upon it as Dr. Nosoki wore in white
on his <i>haori</i>. This contained a medicine chest of
fine gold lacquer, fitted up with shelves, drawers, bottles,
etc. He compounded a lotion first, with which he bandaged
my hand and arm rather skilfully, telling me to pour the lotion
over the bandage at intervals till the pain abated. The
whole was covered with oiled paper, which answers the purpose of
oiled silk. He then compounded a febrifuge, which, as it is
purely vegetable, I have not hesitated to take, and told me to
drink it in hot water, and to avoid <i>saké</i> for a day
or two!</p>
<p>I asked him what his fee was, and, after many bows and much
spluttering and sucking in of his breath, he asked if I should
think half a <i>yen</i> too much, and when I presented him with a
<i>yen</i>, and told him with a good deal of profound bowing on
my part that I was exceedingly glad to obtain his services, his
gratitude quite abashed me by its immensity.</p>
<p>Dr. Nosoki is one of the old-fashioned practitioners, whose
medical knowledge has been handed down from father to son, and
who holds out, as probably most of his patients do, against
European methods and drugs. A strong prejudice against
surgical operations, specially amputations, exists throughout
Japan. With regard to the latter, people think that, as
they <SPAN name="page142"></SPAN><span class="pagenum">p.
142</span>came into the world complete, so they are bound to go
out of it, and in many places a surgeon would hardly be able to
buy at any price the privilege of cutting off an arm.</p>
<p>Except from books these older men know nothing of the
mechanism of the human body, as dissection is unknown to native
science. Dr. Nosoki told me that he relies mainly on the
application of the <i>moxa</i> and on acupuncture in the
treatment of acute diseases, and in chronic maladies on friction,
medicinal baths, certain animal and vegetable medicines, and
certain kinds of food. The use of leeches and blisters is
unknown to him, and he regards mineral drugs with obvious
suspicion. He has heard of chloroform, but has never seen
it used, and considers that in maternity it must necessarily be
fatal either to mother or child. He asked me (and I have
twice before been asked the same question) whether it is not by
its use that we endeavour to keep down our redundant
population! He has great faith in <i>ginseng</i>, and in
rhinoceros horn, and in the powdered liver of some animal, which,
from the description, I understood to be a tiger—all
specifics of the Chinese school of medicines. Dr. Nosoki
showed me a small box of “unicorn’s” horn,
which he said was worth more than its weight in gold! As my
arm improved coincidently with the application of his lotion, I
am bound to give him the credit of the cure.</p>
<p>I invited him to dinner, and two tables were produced covered
with different dishes, of which he ate heartily, showing most
singular dexterity with his chopsticks in removing the flesh of
small, bony fish. It is proper to show appreciation of a
repast by noisy gulpings, and much gurgling and drawing in of the
breath. Etiquette rigidly prescribes these performances,
which are most distressing to a European, and my guest nearly
upset my gravity by them.</p>
<p>The host and the <i>kôchô</i>, or chief man of the
village, paid me a formal visit in the evening, and Ito, <i>en
grande tenue</i>, exerted himself immensely on the
occasion. They were much surprised at my not smoking, and
supposed me to be under a vow! They asked me many questions
about our customs and Government, but frequently reverted to
tobacco.</p>
<p style="text-align: right">I. L. B.</p>
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