Part 2

“I wish I could think so,” said Ito. “No! I believe that the Tokugawa are afraid of an invasion. Their samurai, with the exception of those of Mito and Aidzu,[34] are not worth their salt. Have you ever seen, during your residence in Yedo, a Tokugawa Knight practising at arms. They are quick enough to draw their swords upon a beggar or a merchant, but when they meet one of the samurai of the southern clans, they fly to cover. No! Since Ii Naosuke[35] is regent, he has looked closely into the forces which the Tokugawa can muster, if a war should break out, and he thinks that it must be avoided at any cost. Of course, he expects that the samurai of the great clans will be furious, and he has sent a large number of spies to report what is said. One of these gentry was sent here. I heard of it in time to follow him, and I came on to warn you.”

Both Kano and Hattori expressed their thanks, and Kano said:

“But if the Tokugawa are not able to prevent a handful of foreigners from landing, how can they expect that the great southern clans will obey them?”

“Oh!” replied Ito, smiling grimly; “we have been obedient for so many years, trembling when the Go rojiu frowned, that the regent believes it will continue forever. He had a meeting of all the daimiyo connected with his clan, and tried to convince them that we must now receive these foreigners, and try to learn all that they know. Then, when we can handle their fire ships and their cannon, we may expect to drive them into the sea.”

Hattori put his hand upon his dagger, but Kano, with a friendly motion of his hand, calmed him. “There may be something in that,” he said thoughtfully. “Mind you!” he continued, “I do not underrate Japanese courage, but we do not know the strength of these barbarians. We have been living like frogs in a well. It is easy enough to engage in war, but it is best to know the number of the enemy, before you engage in what may prove too heavy odds. Such a thing would be foolish. But we may come to a settlement with the Tokugawa. If indeed, their samurai have lost their courage, then my lord of Choshiu may recover the land from which he was robbed, and I may avenge my ancestor’s death. When will the councillors of the clan meet?”

“The day after to-morrow,” replied Hattori.

Kano clapped his hands, and ordered the servant to send up dinner for his guests and himself. Hattori and Ito made some excuses, but were easily induced to remain.

Small tables were brought in and placed before each man. First sake or wine made from rice, was served hot, and a small stone bottle placed near each person; then there was _suimono_, a sort of vegetable soup, after which rice was ladled out into cups or bowls. A number of side dishes, such as pickled _daikon_, a sort of giant radish, _tsubo_ or stewed sea-weed, and soy, a sauce, were enjoyed by the samurai.

The conversation had been interrupted when the servants entered, and was not resumed. The men spoke of the ceremony to take place the next day; and Ito was invited. Before leaving, however, Kano told Hattori that he would ask the councillors of the clan to remain after the reception was over, so that they might discuss their plans for the future.

Ito and Hattori bowed good-bye, as they were going in different directions. Each carried a lantern, for it was dark, and there was no street lighting in Japan at that time. At the corner of the street, Ito stopped as if in doubt. Then, after a few moments, he seemed to make up his mind, for he turned to the left, and went hastily toward the castle entrance. The heavy gate was closed, but the little side gate stood ajar. Ito entered, and giving his name to the officer of the guard, went along the barracks where many of the samurai of lower rank dwelt. At last he stopped before a small door, and knocked softly. He heard a shuffling of feet, and a woman’s voice demanded who was there.

“Is Mr. Inouye[36] in?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Tell him that Ito Saburo wishes to see him.”

The woman seemed satisfied, for the door slid open, and Ito entered. Without waiting he mounted the steps, and opening a sho ji, stepped into a room, dimly lit by a rushlight placed in a paper lantern. Ito fell on his knees, and saluted in the usual manner, which salute was returned by the owner of the room, a man of Ito’s age, but of more slender build.

The two men had not met for two years; for Ito had been ordered to remain at the Choshiu yashiki in Yedo, and Inouye’s duties had kept him at Nagato. But they had corresponded by every courier carrying letters to and from the capital, for they had been friends ever since they were little boys. Yet when they met after such a long absence, there was no glad “Helloh!” with a hearty clasp of the hand, as we would meet an old friend. Pleased as they were to see each other again, they had been taught that good breeding demands that gentlemen should always show courtesy and respect to others of their own rank. Certain sentences must be uttered before any ordinary conversation can begin. Therefore Ito said:

“I was very rude the last time we met, but I hope you have forgiven me.”

“No,” replied Inouye, “it was I who was rude, and I pray you to overlook it.”

It is needless to say that neither of them had really been rude, but custom demanded that this should be said, and the same custom prevails in Japan to-day. We think that it is foolish, and the Japanese think us very rude, because we do not obey that custom.

After these customs had been observed, the two friends sat down, and Ito said:

“Has any progress been made in your studies of the barbarian nations?”

“Nothing worth boasting. I have been twice to Nagasaki to try if I could pick up some of the books of the Hollanders, but the Tokugawa officers will not permit any stranger to approach the island of Deshima, unless they are bribed with more money than I possess. Still, I have learned enough to know that Japan is not in a condition to fight the barbarians, and I am afraid, I think, that the regent was right in submitting to their demands.”

“I do not think so,” replied Ito. “Right! What right has the Tokuwaga to sell an inch of Japan’s soil. It does not belong to them. It is the property of Tenshi Sama, if it belongs to anybody. It makes me angry to think that we can no longer boast that

The foot of the invader has never trod our soil.”

“There will be no invasion,” said Inouye. “These men only want to trade. If they had intended to use force, they would have done so when they came the second time, with a large fleet. No! I do not believe that our country is in danger, at least not for some years. But they may come as spies to find out what opportunity there is to obtain possession of Japan. The Yedo government should try to discover what the intentions of the barbarians really are.”

“The Yedo government is only anxious to make money. You do not know, Inouye, how good it feels to breathe the pure air of Nagato. It is stifling at Yedo. Spies, spies are everywhere. The Tokugawa samurai seem to have forgotten that they are gentlemen, and how a samurai should behave. They are quick enough to draw their swords upon men who cannot defend themselves, but they are nimble with their feet when hard blows may be expected. If Japan must go to war, we, the samurai of the south will do the fighting. The day of the Tokuwaga is past.”

There was a brief silence, when Inouye said:

“I have not yet asked you what brings you here. I had not heard that you had been relieved from duty at Yedo.”

“I was not relieved. But we were informed that the Go rojiu intended to send new spies to the southern diamiyo, and I was ordered to inform the councillors of the clan. It seems that Sawa, the chief spy, arrived just before me. I suppose I shall be told to return to Yedo, but I hope not. At any rate I shall see you before I leave.”

After the usual salutations Ito rose and lit his candle. After leaving the door, he went through the grounds to the opposite barracks, where his mother lived. Knocking at the little wicket, he was admitted with many bows and glad exclamations. These he returned with some pleasant words, and entered the sitting-room. Presently his mother entered, and both knelt down and saluted in the respectful and courteous manner of their people. There was no kissing or even handshaking; both were, of course, very happy, but Japanese law forbade showing joy, even in the expression of the face. Ito would have obeyed at once any order his mother might have given him; but she considered him as the head of the family, and showed that she looked upon him as the master of the house.

They chatted for half an hour about their acquaintances and then retired. Ito’s mother, suffering from rheumatism, to receive a massage treatment from one of the servants.

IV

THE FIFTH DAY OF THE ELEVENTH MONTH

The day broke calm and smiling. Japan, especially those parts around the Inland Sea, has a lovely climate. It is seldom that the sky is not of a deep blue color, and the days are few when children cannot play or walk in the streets. They are rarely kept in the house. Young babies are securely fastened upon the backs of children six or seven years old, and sent into the streets. There are no noisy games. Girls play sometimes battledore and shuttlecock, but the boys are too dignified. American boys would be surprised if they saw two Japanese school friends meet in the street. They do not approach with a hop, skip and jump, or clap each other on the shoulder. Oh no! They stop as soon as they meet, take off their caps, for all Japanese schoolboys wear now a sort of soldier cap, and then bow almost to the ground. Then they draw a deep breath, and each continues on his way.

The great difference between Japanese and American boys of the same age, is that all our boys are fond of fun, and we are glad to see them have a good time, while a Japanese boy would not be able to understand what we call fun. Our boys would soon grow sick if there were not some time in the day when they could make all the noise they wished. If a Japanese boy should make even the slightest unnecessary noise at home, his parents would think that the world had turned topsy-turvy. From his earliest youth, the boy is trained not to show his feelings. In all the years of my life in Japan, I have never seen a boy of over six years old with tears in his eyes.

It is eleven o’clock, and the guests begin to arrive. They come mostly on foot, for they all live in the neighborhood; but there are a few who hold such a high rank that they can only leave their yashiki in a sedan chair, or on horseback. A servant brings a large bundle, carefully wrapped. It is taken to the back room which has been made much larger by the removal of several sho ji. Here Mr. Kano sits in hakama and _haori_,[37] receiving each guest as he enters according to his rank in the clan. To some his bows are deeper and more prolonged, with others they are more simple, although at the entrance of every guest, his forehead touches his hands, spread out upon the floor before him. The visitors take their places about the room in the order of their rank, each saluting the host as he enters and thereafter the guests. Waitresses in a kneeling posture serve tea. At last a man of dignified bearing, clothed in rich silk, enters, and after saluting, sits down upon a cushion prepared for him near the master of the house. Kano is about to clap his hands, as a signal for his son to be brought in, when a man-servant opens a sho ji, and kneeling with his head almost touching the mats, crawls toward his master. He whispers:

“Mr. Sawa of Yedo desires to present his respects.”

Kano slightly raises his eyebrows, but by a slight bending forward indicates that the new-comer shall be admitted. After a few moments the latest guest enters and prostrates himself before his host, who returns the compliment. Kano with a slight motion of the arm indicates the place which he intends him to occupy, and Sawa, crouching and bowing to the guests proceeds in that direction. It is between the seats of the councillors and those of the chief samurai, and, as it happens, next to that of Ito.

Not a single glance showed that the visitor was unwelcome. No expression of approval had escaped their lips upon the entrance of a popular member of the clan, and not a sign showed that Sawa’s appearance at this time was resented. They sat unmoved, like the North American Indian chiefs. Kano clapped his hands, and the servant brought in a board, resembling one of our checkerboards; it was placed upon the mat near the father, facing the point of the compass which had been declared lucky by a fortune teller. The gentleman at Kano’s side then clapped his hands, and another servant brought in the package which had been delivered before. It was unwrapped, and contained a Kimono of fine silk, with beautifully embroidered storks and tortoises, fir trees and bamboos. This was as it should be. Storks and tortoises promised long life to the boy; for the Japanese believed that the stork lives a thousand years, and the tortoise ten thousand. The fir tree never changes its color, therefore the child will possess an unchanging virtuous heart, and the bamboo, as it shoots up straight, will give him an upright mind.

The servant holds up the dress for the inspection of the guests, who, after looking at it, express their approval by bowing low, and a deep drawn sigh. Presently Mrs. Kano, who has been watching the ceremony from a near apartment through a convenient slit in the sho ji, enters leading the boy. Both kneel at the entrance and after touching the ground three times with the forehead, the child is brought to his father, who places him upon the checkerboard facing the east, because that is the lucky point. The mother dresses him in the Kimono presented by the sponsor, and puts on the hakama; then the child receives an imitation sword and dirk, which are placed in his sash. Then sake is brought in and the sponsor and child exchange cups. This ends the ceremony which admits the three-year-old boy among the samurai of the clan.

Mother and son, after repeating their salutations, leave the room and refreshments are served. Gradually the sense of ceremony disappears, and conversation becomes more general. Kano, apparently deeply engaged in talking with the sponsor, keeps a watchful eye over his guests, and frequently casts a glance toward the spot occupied by Sawa. The sponsor, an elderly gentleman of dignified bearing, at last notices his host’s looks, and says:

“Who is that gentleman? He is a stranger to me, and I cannot distinguish his coat of arms.”

“He bears the Tokugawa crest, your lordship,” replies Kano, “and is the new O Metsuke, whom the Council at Yedo have kindly sent to report upon our model clan.”

The old gentleman did not notice the sarcasm. “When did he arrive, and why was his arrival not made known to me?” he inquired in a slightly offended tone. Kano bowed, and replied:

“Mr. Sawa arrived yesterday afternoon, and presented his letter at the castle, where Councillor Hattori was ordered to receive him. As we had not been notified by the Go rojiu of their intention to send us a metsuké, Mr. Hattori thought that the letter should be submitted to the council of the clan. I have noticed that he has spoken to the councillors, who will wait here until the other guests have withdrawn. If it please your lordship, we shall be glad to have the benefit of your advice.”

“No, I cannot spare the time, and the matter is of no great importance,” declared his lordship, continuing his repast. Presently they were joined by Hattori, for whom a cushion was brought, and who, after the prescribed bows of respect, took no further notice of Mori’s cousin.

“I think, friend Kano,” he said, “that you may as well keep an eye upon your honored guest, Mr. Sawa. The fellow seems to think that he is at Yedo, instead of in a gentleman’s yashiki and that he can do as he pleases. He has filled his sake cup quite often, and has been offensive, to judge by the looks of Ito.”

“I have perceived it,” replied Kano, “but Ito will, I am sure, keep his temper, and settle with the intruder upon a more favorable occasion. I am more afraid of the young fellows who seem to have heard some insulting remarks. Pray, entertain his lordship, while I dismiss the guests.” Without waiting for a reply, Kano rose and, bowing before each guest, advanced toward Sawa. There he knelt down and performed the usual salutations somewhat stiffly. Sawa returned them as well as he could.

When they had regained their upright positions, Kano addressed his self-invited guest, and said in a tone loud enough for some young samurai close by to hear:

“I am deeply grateful to the Go rojiu for remembering me on this occasion. I do not know how I deserved this honor.”

Sawa had some difficulty to hide a grin. Did this country bumpkin really fancy that the great Council of the Tokugawa cared anything about him or his family. Amused at the thought, he bowed, and said:

“The Go rojiu no doubt, if it had only known of the event, would have been glad to honor his host upon this occasion. It was known,” he added more soberly and looking sharply at Kano, “that the Choshiu clan was directed almost entirely by the wisdom of his entertainer, and the question had been discussed to secure his services for the Council. Unfortunately the law of Iyeyasu forbade it. Only members of the Tokugawa clan were permitted to serve the Shogun. But this did not prevent the Council from profiting by the wisdom of Kano the Councillor, and it was to secure this benefit that he, Sawa, had been directed to reside in the clan.”

Kano bowed, and replied. “It is a very great honor, indeed, and, no doubt, well deserved by such an able man as my guest. Pray, make yourself at home in the clan. You will find every Choshiu gentleman glad to receive a samurai from the capital, where he has advantages to learn manners which we in the country do not possess. But every samurai is glad to excel in chivalry, and we of Choshiu no less than those of other clans.”

Again they bowed, and Sawa resumed:

“I understand that this joyful event will be followed by a meeting of the Honorable Council?”

“The regular meeting is to-morrow,” replied Kano. “I have received no notice of any extra meeting, nor have I sent out any. It seems to me that you are misinformed.”

“Forgive me, my host. Who is that young man, who happened to be my neighbor during the most interesting ceremony? I fancy that I have seen him at Yedo.”

“That is probably so. Indeed, it may have been very recently, for he arrived yesterday. Choshiu’s yashiki seems to have suffered severely from the last earthquake, and expensive repairs are necessary. Our officer in charge thought it necessary to send a special messenger, but why he did not commission an older man, is beyond my comprehension.”

Sawa began to perceive that this country bumpkin was quite able to parry his thrusts; he did not want to give offense, and besides began to feel sleepy. He therefore informed his host of his intention to return to his inn. Kano raised no objection, and after the usual leave taking, escorted his guest to the door, and saw him leave the gate. Calling a young samurai, he bade him see that Sawa did not return to the yashiki, whereupon he re-entered the room. The other guests, seeing that the councillors lingered, withdrew all except Ito, who was asked to wait as he might be wanted.

V

THE COUNCIL OF THE CLAN

Before he seated himself, Kano called his chief samurai, and told him to have the sho ji put in so as to make the apartment of the usual size. He also ordered him to have several men patrol the garden, and to see that no one could approach the house, while he himself was to move noiselessly through the adjoining rooms, and answer for it that there should be no listener. Knowing that his orders would be obeyed, he sat down, ordered tea and hibachi to be brought, and without further ceremony opened the meeting.

“Honorable Councillors,” he said, “two messengers have come from Yedo. You have, no doubt, noticed them, for both were here during the ceremony in my humble house. The first one is the new metsuke, Sawa, whom it has pleased the Go rojiu to appoint to our clan. When Mr. Hattori informed me of his arrival, I could not understand the cause of his appointment. Our clan has had no trouble with the Tokugawa for many years; and, although there can be no friendship between the house of Iyeyasu and that of Mori, there has been no open hostility.

“The arrival of the second messenger explains the situation. The Go rojiu has entered into a new treaty with the barbarians, and permitted them to dwell at Yokohama, near Kanagawa on the Tokaido. This fine piece of news is discussed openly at Yedo, and there is no doubt of its truth. The Regent, naturally I think, feels somewhat anxious as to how the great clans will receive it, and has probably sent metsuke to other model clans besides Choshiu. The news is so important that our friend Hattori agreed with me to ask you to discuss it here privately, so that we may decide upon the policy of our clan. Honorable Mr. OKubo, what is your opinion?”

The person thus addressed was the oldest of the councillors, a man grown gray in the service of his clan. He was silent for some moments, gravely sipping his tea. Then he said:

“These questions are not for me to answer. I am only acquainted with Old Japan, as it has existed for hundreds of years, and I am afraid the arrival of these barbarians is a menace to our country. I don’t know them, and do not wish to know them; but I do know that, before the Tokugawa were thought of, the barbarians came, and were received kindly by the children of the gods. What was their gratitude? They began to teach a cult which destroyed the relations between parent and child, master and servant, lord and retainer. They were finally expelled, but it cost years of strife, and myriads of lives before their teaching was rooted out of the country. Since then order has been restored, and we have had peace. Now the barbarians will be admitted again, and fresh troubles will commence. Younger and stronger heads than mine will be needed to save our clan and the house of Mori, although, if it comes to war, I shall claim the honor of dying fighting for our lord.”

All bowed but protested that OKubo was strong and able enough to lead the councils of the clan; but he replied that his time of usefulness was past, and Kano, out of respect for his wish, addressed the councillor next in years. That gentleman did not see any danger to the clan. Yokohama was a long distance from Nagato, and if there was to be trouble with the barbarians, the Tokugawa would be the first sufferers, for it was within the territory belonging to the Shogun. As to the metsuke, why, they must do as they had done before with such fellows, surround him with spies of their own.

Thus every councillor spoke in turn, the opinion of each being received with grave courtesy. A little more interest was shown when Hattori began to speak. It was known that he was in Kano’s confidence, and it was a standing joke that Kano’s advice was always adopted.

“Honorable Councillors,” said Hattori, bowing deeply, “it ill becomes a man of my age to dispute the opinions of the leaders who for many years have guided the policy of our clan with brilliant success. If I venture to differ with them, it may be from lack of wisdom and experience, but I shall be glad if I am corrected. It is only by the kind teaching of such men as the honorable councillors, that men of my age can be prepared to follow in their footsteps.