Hildreth's "Japan as It Was and Is": A Handbook of Old Japan, Volume 2 (of 2)

by Richard Hildreth

CHAPTER XLI

Isaac Titsingh—His Residence in Japan—Translations from the Japanese—Annals of the Dairi—Memoirs of the Shōgun—Liberal Ideas in Japan—Marriage Ceremonies—Funeral Ceremonies—Mourning—Feast of Lanterns—A. D. 1779-1791.

Soon after Thunberg’s departure, he had a worthy successor in the person of Mr. Isaac Titsingh, the first director at Deshima since the time of Caron to whom we are indebted for any information about Japan. Born about 1740, Titsingh had entered early into the service of the Dutch East India Company. After seven years’ residence at Batavia, he was sent to Deshima, as director, where he arrived August 15, 1779, and remained till November 29, 1780, when he returned to Batavia. He came back again to Japan August 12, 1781, and remained till November 6, 1783, the war between Holland and England, growing out of the American revolution, having prevented the arrival of any ships from Batavia during the year 1782,—an event of which Titsingh took advantage to stipulate for a considerable advance in the price of Dutch imports, for a term of fifteen years. He reached Nagasaki a third time, August 18, 1784, but left again November 26 of the same year. During his first and second visits he made the journey to Yedo as Dutch ambassador, where he succeeded in making several friends, particularly Kuchiki Samon, prince of Tamba, who had learned Dutch, which he wrote tolerably well, with whom, and other Japanese friends, Titsingh kept up a correspondence for some time after leaving the country.

During his residence in Japan he made a valuable collection of Japanese curiosities, including many Japanese books, and he also brought home with him translations of some of these books, made by aid of Japanese interpreters attached to the factory at Deshima, whose interpretations, given viva voce, he wrote out in Dutch; for though Titsingh knew enough of Japanese for the purposes of conversation, he does not seem to have acquired the written language, nor to have been able to read Chinese, of which the characters are largely, and, indeed, chiefly, employed in most Japanese works of much pretensions. “I found,” he says, “among the interpreters belonging to our factory four individuals sufficiently well-informed for my purpose; a fifth had devoted himself chiefly to medicine, in which he had made rapid progress, in consequence of the instruction given to him by Dr. Thunberg. Far from finding them suspicious and reluctant, as Europeans are usually pleased to represent these persons, in order to palliate their own indolence, they manifested, on the contrary, an eagerness to procure for me every practicable information, to consult, in various matters beyond their capacity, the best-informed individuals among the magistrates and clergy, and to furnish me with books which might serve as a guide to my labors.”

After leaving Japan, Titsingh was governor at the Dutch factory at Chinsurah, in Bengal, where he became acquainted with Sir William Jones. In 1794 he was sent, with Van Braam, on a Dutch embassy to Pekin, with the design to counterwork the English embassy of Lord Macartney; but this residence in China was limited to a few months.

Returning to Europe, after a residence in the East of thirty-three years, Titsingh designed to publish the result of his Japanese researches, in both Dutch and French; but, before having done it, he died at Paris, in 1812, leaving his large fortune and his collections and manuscripts to an only child of his, by an Eastern woman, by whom the fortune was soon spent, and the manuscripts and curiosities sold and scattered, though some of them ultimately fell into appreciating hands.[70]

Among his translations, the one to which Titsingh ascribed the greatest importance was that of the “Nippon Ōdai Ichiran,” an abridged Japanese chronicle, from 600 B. C. to A. D. 1611, compiled in the year 1652, and printed at Miyako. Having been carefully compared by Klaproth with the original,—a task, as he says, from the manifold defects of Titsingh’s version, almost equivalent to a new translation,—and having been enriched with an introduction, a supplement and notes, this work was published in 1834, in French, at the expense of the Oriental Translation Fund, under the title of “Annales des Empereurs du Japan.”

Though highly valuable as a specimen of what Japanese histories are, and though Klaproth’s introduction and notes contain some curious information, this performance is, on the whole, exceedingly dry, while it adds but little to the abstract given by Kämpfer of this or some other similar work. A criticism which Titsingh himself makes upon it, in a letter to the prince of Tamba, to whom he had intended to dedicate his translation, is worthy of notice, as going to show how little, with all its formal precision of years and months, the earlier Japanese chronology is entitled to historical respect.

“Must we not suppose,” says Titsingh, “that the Japanese, so jealous of their neighbors, the Chinese, have, in writing their own history, endeavored to fill up many gaps in it by prolonging the reigns of their earlier Dairi? There is in your history a period of one thousand and sixty-one years occupied by the reigns of only sixteen Dairi. The duration of the life of Jimmu, of the reigns of Kōan, of Suijin, and the life of Ōjin, appear altogether improbable. The first died at the age of one hundred and twenty-seven years. The second reigned one hundred and two years, the third ninety-nine years. The last lived one hundred and ten years. These statements are too extraordinary to be blindly believed. Grant, even, that a chaste and frugal way of living may have secured for these princes a very advanced age, but how does it happen that, after Nintoku Tennō (the seventeenth Dairi), none exceeded the ordinary limit of human life?

The Japanese still cling with tenacity to the formal recognition of the absolute rights of the Dairi. With as much warmth as a loyal Englishman would exhibit in maintaining the actual sovereignty of Queen Victoria, they insisted to Titsingh—and the same thing afterwards occurred to Golownin—that Europeans were mistaken in applying the term “emperor” to the Shōgun, the Dairi being the only legal emperor, and the Shōgun but an officer to whom the Dairi had entrusted the administration.[71]

The annual visit of the Shōgun to the Dairi, made in Caron’s time, had been discontinued; but mutual embassies are still exchanged, and the envoys sent from the Dairi are received by the Shōgun as if they were the Dairi himself. The Shōgun goes to meet them, and conducts them to the hall of audience, where he performs the kitō, bending before them till his head touches the mats, as if they were the very Dairi. This homage finished, the Shōgun resumes his rank, and the ambassadors then perform the kitō to him. During their stay they are entertained by two persons, who, from the allowance made for it, find this office very lucrative. The ambassadors also receive rich presents, not only at Yedo, but all along the route, and the attendance upon this service, even in an inferior capacity, is so lucrative as to be eagerly coveted by the poor courtiers of the Dairi. Titsingh encountered one of these embassies on his return from Yedo, in 1782, and was obliged to stop a whole day, and to lodge in a citizen’s house, all the horses, porters, and inns being taken up by the embassy. However poor and powerless, the courtiers of the Dairi still enjoy all the outward observances of superior rank. The first princes of the empire must pay them the homage of the kitō, and must lay aside their two swords in their presence. For this reason, these princes, in going and returning to Yedo, carefully avoid passing through Miyako.

A more interesting publication, from the manuscript of Titsingh, and one which appeared earlier, is “Memoirs of the Djogouns” [Shōguns], which had itself been preceded by a number of other pieces, translations and originals.[72] These memoirs profess to be compiled from Japanese manuscripts, of which Titsingh gives the following account: “Since the accession of Gongen, founder of the present dynasty, the printing of any work relating to the government has been prohibited. The curious, however, possess manuscript accounts of all the remarkable events that have occurred. These manuscripts are in great request. The conduct of persons of elevated rank is sometimes as freely censured in them as it would be in any country in Europe. The obstructions which the government throws in the way of the publication of historical works prevent these works from being known, and thus obviate whatever might make an obnoxious impression on the minds of the people, and endanger the interests of the reigning dynasty, as well as the tranquillity of the empire. From some of these manuscripts are extracted the particulars here submitted to the public. The Japanese, to whom they belong, keep them carefully concealed, so that it is difficult to procure a sight of them. If I was fortunate enough to obtain the communication of those from which I have extracted such curious notes, I am indebted for it to the ardent zeal with which my friends assisted me in all my researches.” M. Abel Rémusat, the learned Orientalist, who, at the request of the French publisher, prefixed some preliminary observations to this publication, observes that, “Thanks to the pains M. Titsingh has taken, we shall outstrip the Japanese themselves, and, by an extraordinary singularity, we shall be earlier and better informed than they concerning the events of their own history.” This publication in Europe of Japanese history is not, however, so much a singularity as M. Rémusat seems to suppose. The letters of the Jesuit missionaries furnished contemporary details of Japanese history extending over a period of more than seventy years, and including the establishment of the present system of government, far more full and authentic, we may well believe, than anything which the Japanese themselves possess, and far exceeding anything contained in this book of Titsingh’s whom M. Rémusat, perhaps in rather too complimentary a spirit, places on a level with Kämpfer, and in advance of Thunberg, as a contributor to our knowledge of Japan.

The memoirs of the Shōguns, made up of detached fragments, in general very jejune, contain, however, a few anecdotes, which serve to illustrate the ideas and manners of the Japanese. The Kubō-Sama reigning in Kämpfer’s time is stated to have been stabbed, in 1709, by his wife, a daughter of the Dairi, because, being childless, he persisted in selecting as his successor a person very disagreeable to all the princes—an act which causes her memory to be held in high honor.

One of the longest of these fragments relates to an alleged conspiracy, in the year 1767, against the reigning Shōgun, for which a number of persons suffered death. There is, also, an account of an extensive volcanic eruption, which took place in September, 1783, in the interior of the island of Nippon, in the province of Shinano, northwest of Yedo and north of Ōsaka. The mountain Asama vomited sand, ashes, and pumice-stones; the rivers flowing from it were heated boiling-hot, and their dammed-up waters inundated the country. Twenty-seven villages were swallowed up, and many people perished.

The councillor of state, Tanuma Yamashiro-no-Kami, was assassinated the next year (1784), in the emperor’s palace; but of this event, and of others connected with it, Titsingh gives a fuller explanation in his Introduction to the Japanese “Marriage Ceremonies.” He there informs us that “though many Japanese of the highest distinction, and intimately acquainted with matters of government, still consider Japan as the first empire of the world, and care but little for what passes out of it, yet such persons are denominated by the more enlightened I no uchi no Kayeru,—that is, ‘Frogs in a well,’—a metaphorical expression, which signifies that when they look up they can see no more of the sky than what the small circumference of the well allows them to perceive.” Of this more enlightened party was the extraordinary councillor, Matsudaira Tsu, who proposed, in 1769, the building of ships, and junks suitable for foreign voyages; but this plan was put a stop to by his death.

Tango-no-Kami, the governor of Nagasaki, one of this more liberal party, with whom Titsingh, while director, kept up a secret intercourse, proposed to him, in 1783, to bring carpenters from Batavia, to instruct the Japanese in building vessels, especially for the transport of copper from Ōsaki to Nagasaki, in which service many Japanese vessels had been lost, with their cargoes; but this Titsingh knew to be impossible, as skilful carpenters were too rare at Batavia to be spared. He therefore proposed to take with him, on his return to Batavia, a number of Japanese to be instructed there; but the prohibition against any native leaving the country proved an insurmountable obstacle. He then promised to have a model ship built at Batavia, and conveyed to Nagasaki, which was done by himself, on his last visit to Japan; but the assassination of Tanuma, above mentioned, which had happened during his absence at Batavia, put an end to all hopes that had been formed of a modification in the exclusive policy of the Japanese.

This Tanuma (uncle of the Shōgun) was, according to Titsingh’s account, a young man of uncommon merit and liberal ideas, and the anti-frog-in-a-well party flattered themselves that, when he should succeed his father, he would, as they expressed it, “widen the road.” After his appointment as extraordinary councillor, he and his father incurred, as Titsingh states, the hatred of the grandees of the court, by introducing various innovations, which the “Frogs in a well” censured as detrimental to the empire. It was to this feeling that his assassination was ascribed, a crime which put an end to the hopes which had begun to be entertained of seeing Japan opened to foreigners, and of its inhabitants being allowed to visit other countries.

The appetite for foreign knowledge which Thunberg had noticed was also observed by Titsingh. “During my residence in Japan,” so he writes in the above-quoted Introduction, “several persons of quality, at Yedo, Miyako, and Ōsaka, applied themselves assiduously to the acquisition of the Dutch language and the reading of our books. The prince of Satsuma, father-in-law of the present Shōgun, used our alphabet to express in his letters what he wished a third person not to understand. The surprising progress made by the prince of Tamba, by Katsuragawa Hozan, physician to the Shōgun, and Nakagawa Junan, physician to the prince of Wakasa,[73] and several others, enabled them to express themselves more clearly than many Portuguese born and bred among us at Batavia. Considering the short period of our residence [he means, apparently, the stay of the Dutch embassy] at Yedo, such proficiency cannot but excite astonishment and admiration. The privilege of corresponding with the Japanese, above mentioned, and of sending them back their answers corrected, without the letters being opened by the government, allowed through the special favor of the worthy governor, Tango-no-Kami, facilitated to them the learning of Dutch.”

In 1786, the reigning Shōgun, Iyeharu, died, and was succeeded by an adopted son, Iyenari, who was his distant cousin, being a great-grandson of his great-grandfather. This prince was married to a daughter of the prince of Satsuma, and that is stated to have been a principal reason for his adoption, it being the policy of the Shōguns thus to secure the attachment of the most powerful princes. The reigning family is thus allied to the princes of Kaga, Satsuma, Yechizen, Nagato, and Ōshū, while the houses of Owari, Kishū, and Mito are descended from the sons of Gongen, from among whom, in case of failure of heirs, the Shōgun is selected. These princes of the first class, notwithstanding the jealous supremacy of the emperors, still retain certain privileges. According to Titsingh, they enjoy absolute power in their own palaces, with the right of life and death over their dependents; nor, in case they commit crimes, has the emperor any authority to put them to death. He can only, with the Dairi’s assistance, compel them to resign in favor of their sons.

In 1788, a terrible fire occurred at Miyako, by which almost the entire city, including the palace of the Dairi, was destroyed. The particulars of this event were communicated to Titsingh by his Japanese correspondents.

Early in 1792, the summit of the Onsen-ga-Take (High mountain of warm springs), in the province of Hizen, west of Shimabara, sank entirely down. Torrents of boiling water issued from all parts of the deep cavity thus formed, and a vapor arose like thick smoke. Three weeks after, there was an eruption from a crater, about half a league from the summit. The lava soon reached the foot of the mountain, and in a few days the country was in flames for miles around. A month after, the whole island of Kiūshiū was shaken by an earthquake, felt principally, however, in the neighborhood of Shimabara. It reduced that part of the province of Higo opposite Shimabara to a deplorable condition, and even altered the whole outline of the coast, sinking many vessels which lay in the harbors. This is the event of the latest date mentioned by Titsingh. A plan of the eruption, furnished by one of his Japanese correspondents, also one of the eruption in Shinano in 1783, is given in the “Illustrations of Japan.”

The matter upon which Titsingh throws the most light is the marriage and funeral ceremonies of the Japanese, as to which he gives a translation, or rather an abridgment, of two Chinese works, received as authority in Japan, as to the etiquette to be observed on these occasions, at the same time noting the variations introduced by the Japanese.

The system of Japanese manners, being based on that of the Chinese, abounds in punctilios, and the higher the rank of the parties concerned, the more these punctilios are multiplied. This applies to marriages[74] as to other things. The treatise which Titsingh follows relates only to the marriages of what we should call the middle class (including merchants, artisans, etc.), who, though often possessed of considerable wealth, hold in Japan much the same subordinate position held prior to the French revolution by the corresponding class in France.

With persons of high rank, marriages are made entirely from family convenience; even with those of the middle class they are also much based on prudential considerations. Formerly, the bridegroom never saw the bride till she entered his house, which she does, preceded by a woman bearing a lantern, which originally served the bridegroom to catch his first glimpse of the bride, and, if he did not like her looks, the match might be broken off, and the bride sent home. “Such cases,” says Titsingh, “formerly occurred; but, at present, beauty is held in much less estimation than fortune and high birth,—advantages to which people would once have been ashamed to attach so much value, and the custom has been by degrees entirely laid aside, on account of the mortification which it must give to the bride. At present, when a young man has any intention of marrying a female, whom he deems likely, from the situation of her parents, to be a suitable match, he first seeks to obtain a sight of her. If he likes her person, a mediator, selected from among his married friends, is sent to negotiate a match. People of quality have neither lantern nor mediator, because the parents affiance the children in infancy, and marriage always follows. Should it so happen that the husband dislikes the wife, he takes as many concubines as he pleases. This is also the case among persons of the inferior classes. The children are adopted by the wife, who is respected in proportion to the number of which she is either the actual or nominal mother.”

Formerly the bride was not allowed, in case of the bridegroom’s death before the consummation of the nuptials, to marry again. A moving story is told of a romantic Japanese young lady, who, being urged by her friends to a second betrothal, to avoid such a sacrifice of her delicacy, cut off her hair, and, when that would not answer, her nose also. But this antique constancy has, in these latter depraved times,—depraved in Japan as well as elsewhere,—entirely disappeared, as well among the nobility as the common people.

The match having been agreed upon, the bridegroom’s father sends a present—nothing is done in Japan without presents—to the bride’s father. The bearer, accompanied by the mediator, delivers not only the presents and a written list or invoice of them, but a complimentary message also. For these presents a written receipt is given, and, three days after, the bearer and those who attended him are complimented by a counter present.

The following articles are then got ready at the bride’s house by the way of outfit: A white wedding-dress, embroidered with gold or silver; four other dresses, one with a red, a second with a black ground, one plain white; a fourth plain yellow; a number of gowns, both lined and single, and all the other requisites of a wardrobe, as girdles, bathing-gowns, under robes, both fine and coarse, a thick-furred robe for a bed-gown; a mattress to sleep on; bedclothes; pillows; gloves; carpets; bed-curtains; a silk cap; a furred cotton cap; long and short towels; a cloak; a covering for a norimono; a bag with a mixture of bran, wheat, and dried herbs, to be used in washing the face; also a bag of tooth-picks, some skeins of thin twine, made of twisted paper, for tying up the hair; a small hand-mirror; a little box of medicines; a small packet of the best columbac, for painting the lips; several kinds of paper for doing up packages; also paper for writing letters; a koto (a kind of harp); a samisen (a sort of guitar); a small chest for holding paper; an inkhorn; a pin-cushion; several sorts of needles; a box of combs; a mirror with its stand; a mixture for blacking the teeth (the distinguishing mark of married women in Japan, some blackening them the moment they are married, and others when they become pregnant); curling-tongs for the hair; scissors; a letter-case; a case of razors; several small boxes, varnished or made of osier; dusters; a case of articles for dressing the hair; an iron for smoothing linen; a large osier basket to hold the linen; a tub with handles; a small dagger, with a white sheath, in a little bag (thought to drive away evil spirits and to preserve from infectious exhalations,—a quality ascribed also to the swords worn by the men); complimentary cards, made of paper, variously colored, and gilt or silvered at the ends, to tie round presents; noshi, a species of edible sea-weed, of which small pieces are attached to every congratulatory present; silk thread; a small tub to hold flax; several slender bamboos, used in hanging out clothes to dry; circular fans; common fans; fire-tureens; and—what certainly ought to form a part of the bridal outfit of our city belles—a small bench for supporting the elbows when the owner has nothing to do! Several books are also added, poems and stories, moral precepts, a book on the duties of woman in the married state, and another—the very one we are now giving an abstract of—on the etiquette of the marriage ceremony. Two different kinds of dressing-tables are also provided, containing many of the above-mentioned articles; also a number of other housekeeping utensils.

When these things are ready, the mediator and his wife are invited to the house of the bride’s father, and entertained there. A lucky day is selected for sending the above-mentioned articles, accompanied by a written list, to the bridegroom’s house. The mediator is present to assist in receiving them, and a formal receipt is given, as well as refreshments and presents to the bearers in proportion to the value of the articles brought.

On the day fixed for the marriage, an intelligent female servant of the second class[75] is sent to the house of the bride to attend her, and the bride’s father, having invited all his kinsfolk, entertains them previous to the bride’s departure.

The bridal party sets out in norimono, the mediator’s wife first, then the bride, then the bride’s mother, and, finally, her father. The mediator has already preceded them to the bridegroom’s house. The bride is dressed in white (white being the color for mourning among the Japanese), being considered as thenceforward dead to her parents.

If all the ceremonies are to be observed, there should be stationed, at the right of the entrance to the house of the bridegroom, an old woman, and on the left an old man, each with a mortar containing some rice-cakes. As the bride’s norimono reaches the house, they begin to pound their respective mortars, the man saying, “A thousand years!” the woman, “Ten thousand!”—allusions to the reputed terms of life of the crane and the tortoise thus invoked for the bride. As the norimono passes between them, the man pours his cakes into the woman’s mortar, and both pound together. What is thus pounded is moulded into two cakes, which are put one upon another and receive a conspicuous place in the toko[76] of the room where the marriage is to be celebrated.

A Scene in the House of a Noble
From Official History of Japan

The norimono is met within the passage by the bridegroom, who stands in his dress of ceremony ready to receive it. There is also a woman seated there with a lantern, and several others behind her. It was, as already mentioned, by the light of this lantern that formerly the groom first saw his bride, and, if dissatisfied with her, exercised his right of putting a stop to the ceremony. The bride, on seeing the bridegroom, reaches to him, through the front window of her norimono, her mamori,[77] and he hands it to a female servant who takes it into the apartment prepared for the wedding and hangs it up. The bride is also led to her apartment, the woman with the lantern preceding.

The marriage being now about to take place, the bride is led by one of her waiting-women into the room where it is to be celebrated, and is seated there with two female attendants on either side. The bridegroom then leaves his room and comes into this apartment. No other persons are present except the mediator and his wife. The formality of the marriage consists in drinking sake after a particular manner. The sake is poured out by two young girls, one of whom is called the male butterfly, and the other the female butterfly,—appellations derived from their susu, or sake-jugs, each of which is adorned with a paper-butterfly. As these insects always fly about in pairs, it is intended to intimate that so the husband and wife ought to be continually together. The male butterfly always pours out the sake to be drank, but, before doing so, turns a little to the left, when the female butterfly pours from her jug a little sake into the jug of the other, who then proceeds to pour out for the ceremony. For drinking it, three bowls are used, placed on a tray or waiter, one within the other. The bride takes the uppermost, holds it in both hands, while some sake is poured into it, sips a little, three several times, and then hands it to the groom. He drinks three times in like manner, puts the bowl under the third, takes the second, hands it to be filled, drinks out of it three times, and passes it to the bride. She drinks three times, puts the second bowl under the first, takes the third, holds it to be filled, drinks three times, and then hands it to the groom, who does the same, and afterwards puts this bowl under the first. This ceremony constitutes the marriage. The bride’s parents, who meanwhile were in another room, being informed that this ceremony is over, come in, as do the bridegroom’s parents and brothers, and seat themselves in a certain order. The sake, with other refreshments interspersed, is then served, by the two butterflies, to these relations of the married parties in a prescribed order, indicated by the mediator; the two families, by this ceremony, extending, as it were, to each other the alliance already contracted between the bride and bridegroom.

Next follows the delivery of certain presents on the part of the bride to the bridegroom, his relatives, and the servants of the household. These are brought by a female, who arranges them in order in an adjoining room, and hands written lists of them to the mediator, who passes it to the bridegroom’s father, who, having received the paper, returns thanks, then reads the lists aloud, and again returns thanks.

The bridegroom then presents the bride with two robes, one with a red and the other with a black ground, embroidered with gold or silver. The bride retires, puts on these robes, and again returns. Refreshments of a peculiar kind then follow, the bride, to spare her bashfulness, being suffered to eat in a room by herself.

This entertainment over, the parents of the bride prepare to leave her. They are accompanied by those of the bridegroom, and by the bride herself, to the door; the bridegroom with two servants bears candles, shows the way, and takes leave with compliments.

Sometimes the bridegroom proceeds, that same night, with his parents and the mediator, to the house of the bride’s father, where the contracting of relationship by drinking sake is again gone through with, the bride remaining behind in her husband’s house, where she is meanwhile entertained by his brothers. On this occasion the father of the bride presents his new son-in-law with a sabre. Presents are also delivered on the part of the bridegroom to the bride’s relations.

The feasting over, the bridegroom and his parents return home, and are received at the door by the bride.

In making the bed for the bride, her pillow is placed towards the north (the practice followed with the dead, for she is thenceforward to be considered as dead to her parents). Such is stated to have been the ancient custom, though now generally disused.

The beds having been prepared, the bride is conducted to hers by one of the women appointed to attend her, and the same person introduces the bridegroom into the apartment. The young couple are waited on by the male and female butterflies. One of the bride’s women sleeps secretly in the adjoining chamber.

The bridal chamber is abundantly furnished with all the numerous articles of the Japanese toilet, including a greater or less quantity, according to their rank, of wearing apparel, hung on movable racks or clothes-horses.

In families of the rank of the governors of Nagasaki the bride is portioned with twelve robes, each upon a distinct horse; namely, a blue robe, for the first month, embroidered with fir-trees or bamboos; a sea-green robe for the second month, with cherry flowers and buttercups; a robe of light red, for the third month, with willows and cherry-trees; a robe of pearl color, for the fourth month, embroidered with the cuckoo, and small spots representing islands; a robe of faint yellow, for the fifth month, embroidered with waves and sword-grass; a robe of bright orange, for the sixth month, embroidered with melons and with an impetuous torrent,—the rainy season falling in this and the previous month; a white robe, for the seventh month, with kikyō flowers, white and purple; a red robe, for the eighth month, sprinkled with sloe-leaves; a violet robe, for the ninth month, embroidered with flowers of the Chrysanthemum indicum [Kiku], a very splendid flower; an olive-colored robe, for the tenth month, with representations of a road and ears of rice cut off; a black robe, for the eleventh month, embroidered with emblems of ice and icicles; a purple robe for the twelfth month, embroidered with emblems of snow. Beyond some personal outfit of this sort, it is said not to be the custom to portion daughters.

Next morning the young couple take a warm bath, and then breakfast together. Soon after numerous presents come in, of which a careful account is kept; the bride also receives visits of congratulation. The day after, all the bridegroom’s people are treated with cakes in the apartment of the bride; and rice-cake, put up in boxes, is sent to all the near relations who did not attend the wedding.

After the expiration of three days the bride pays a visit to her parents preceded by a present from her husband, one corresponding to which is sent back when the bride returns. All the preceding ceremonies over, the bride, accompanied by her mother-in-law, or some aged female relative, pays a visit to all who have sent her presents, thanks them, and offers a suitable return,—a supply of suitable presents for this purpose having been provided for her before she left her father’s house. Seven days after the wedding, the bridegroom and four or five of his intimate friends are invited by the parents of the bride to a grand entertainment. A few days after, the bridegroom invites the relatives of the bride to a similar entertainment, and so the matrimonial solemnities terminate.

The Japanese have two ways of disposing of the dead,—dosō, or interment; kwasō, or burning,—and persons about to die generally state which method they prefer.

Of the funeral ceremonies[78] observed at Nagasaki, Titsingh gives the following account: The body, after being carefully washed by a favorite servant, and the head shaved, is clothed according to the state of the weather, and (if a female, in her best apparel) exactly as in life, except that the sash is tied, not in a bow, but strongly fastened with two knots, to indicate that it is never more to be loosed. The body is then covered with a piece of linen, folded in a peculiar manner, and is placed on a mat in the middle of the hall, the head to the north. Food is offered to it, and all the family lament.

After being kept for forty-eight hours, the body is placed on its knees in a tub-shaped coffin, which is enclosed in a square, oblong box, or bier, the top of which is roof-shaped, called kwan. Two ihai are also prepared,—wooden tablets of a peculiar shape and fashion, containing inscriptions commemorative of the deceased, the time of his decease, and the name given to him since that event.

The ihai and kwan, followed by the eldest son and the family, servants, friends, and acquaintances, are borne in a procession, with flags, lanterns, etc., to one of the neighboring temples, whence, after certain ceremonies, in which the priests take a leading part, they are carried, by the relatives only, to the grave, where a priest, while waiting their arrival, repeats certain hymns. The moment they are come, the tub containing the body is taken out of the kwan and deposited in the grave, which is then filled with earth and covered with a flat stone, which again is covered with earth, and over the whole is placed the kwan and one of the ihai, which is removed at the end of seven weeks, to make room for the hiseki,[79] or gravestone. If the deceased had preferred to be burnt, the kwan is taken to the summit of one of two neighboring mountains, on the top of each of which is a sort of furnace, prepared for this purpose, enclosed in a small hut. The coffin is then taken from the kwan, and, being placed in the furnace, a great fire is kindled. The eldest son is provided with an earthen urn, in which first the bones and then the ashes are put, after which the mouth of the urn is sealed up. While the body is burning, a priest recites hymns. The urn is then carried to the grave, and deposited in it, and, the grave being filled up, the kwan is placed over it.

The eldest son and his brothers are dressed in white, in garments of undyed hempen stuff, as are the bearers, and all females attending the funeral, whether relatives or not; the others wear their usual dresses. The females are carried in norimono, behind the male part of the procession, which proceeds on foot, the nearest relatives coming first. The eldest daughter takes precedence of the wife. The eldest son and heir, whether by blood or adoption, who is the chief mourner, wears also a broad-brimmed hat, of rushes, which hang about his shoulders, and in this attire does not recognize nor salute anybody.

It is a remarkable circumstance that relatives in the ascending line and seniors never attend the funerals of their junior kindred, nor go into mourning for them. Thus, if the second son should die, neither father, mother, uncle, aunt, elder brother, nor elder sister would attend the funeral.

The laboring classes are not required to go into mourning; yet some of them do for two, three, or four days. With them the burial takes place after twenty-four hours. With the upper class the mourning is fixed at fifty days. It used to be twice that time, but is said to have been cut down by Iyeyasu (founder of the reigning dynasty), that the business of the public functionaries might suffer the less interruption. Persons in mourning stay at home, abstain from animal food of any description, and from sake, and neither cut their nails nor shave their heads.

One of the ihai is left, as has been mentioned, at the grave; the other, during the period of mourning, is set up in the best apartment of the house of the deceased. Sweetmeats, fruit, and tea are placed before it, and morning, noon, and night food is offered to it, served up as to a living person. Two candles, fixed in candlesticks, burn by it night and day, and a lighted lantern is hung up on either side. The whole household, of both sexes, servants included, pray before it morning and evening. This is kept up for seven weeks, and during each week, from the day of the death, a priest attends and reads hymns for an hour before the ihai. He is each time supplied with ornaments, and paid a fee of from five to six mas.

During these seven weeks the son goes every day, be the weather what it may, and says a prayer by the grave. He wears his rush hat, through which he can see without being seen, speaks to nobody, and is dressed in white. With this exception, and a ceremonious visit, in the third, fourth, or fifth week, to the relatives and friends, he remains in his house, with the door fastened. It is customary to erect a small hut near the grave, in which a servant watches, noting down the names of all who come to visit it.

When the seven weeks are over, the mourner shaves and dresses, opens his door, and goes, if an officer, to inform the governor that his days of mourning are over. He next pays a complimentary visit to all who attended the funeral, or have visited the grave, sending them also a complimentary present. The hiseki, or gravestone (almost precisely like those in use with us), is placed over the grave, and two ihai, varnished black and superbly gilt, are provided, one of which is sent to a temple. The other remains at home, kept in a case in a small apartment appropriated for that purpose, in which are kept the ihai of all the ancestors of the family. It is customary every morning, after rising and dressing, to take the ihai out of its case, and to burn a little incense before it, bowing the head in token of respect.

A Japanese Bed

Though the wearing of white garments and other formalities of the special mourning, called imi, cease at the end of fifty days at the longest, bright colors are not to be worn, or a Shintō temple to be entered, for thirteen months, and this is called buku. For a husband, imi lasts thirty days and buku thirteen months; for a wife, imi twenty days and buku three months; for grandparents and uncles, the periods are thirty days and five months; for an eldest brother or sister, or aunt on the father’s side, and great-grandparents, twenty days and three months; for great-great-grandparents and aunts on the mother’s side, fathers and mothers-in-law, brother-in-law or sister-in-law, or eldest grandchild, ten days and one month; for other grandchildren, and for cousins of either sex, and their children, three days and seven days. For children under the age of seven years, whatever the relationship, there is no mourning.

The great dignitaries must wear mourning for the Shōgun; all officers, civil and military, for their princes; and whoever derives his subsistence from another must mourn for him as for a father. Pupils also must mourn for their teacher, education being esteemed equivalent to a livelihood. The sons of a mother repudiated by her husband and expelled from his house mourn for her as if dead.

In case of persons holding office, who die suddenly without previously having resigned in favor of their heirs, it is not unusual to bury them the night after their death, in a private manner. The death, though whispered about, is not officially announced. The heir, who dresses and acts as usual, notifies the authorities that his father is sick and wishes to resign. Having obtained the succession, he soon after announces his father’s death, and the formal funeral and mourning then take place.

The honors paid to deceased parents do not terminate with the mourning. Every month, on the day of the ancestor’s decease, for fifty, or even for a hundred years, food, sweetmeats, and fruit are set before the ihai. One hundred days after the decease of a father or mother, an entertainment is to be given to all the intimate friends, including the priest who presided at the funeral. This is to be repeated a year from the death; and again on the third, seventh, thirteenth, twenty-fifth, thirty-third, fiftieth, hundredth, and hundred and fiftieth anniversary, and so on, as long as the family exists. To secure the due payment to themselves of funeral honors, those who have no sons of their own adopt one. If any accident, fortunate or disastrous, happens to the family, it is formally communicated to the ihai, such as the birth of a child, a safe return from a journey, etc. In case of floods or fires, the ihai must be saved in preference to everything else, their loss being regarded as the greatest of misfortunes.

The fifteenth day of the seventh Japanese month is a festival, devoted to the honor of parents and ancestors. Every Japanese whose parents are still living considers this a happy day. People regale themselves and their children with fish. Married sons and daughters, or adopted sons, send presents to their parents. On the evening of the 13th, the ihai are taken from their cases, and a repast set before them of vegetables and the fruits then ripening. In the middle is set a vase, in which perfumes are burnt, and other vases containing flowers. The next day, meals of rice, tea, and other food are regularly served to the ihai, as to living guests.

Towards evening, lanterns, suspended from long bamboos, are lighted before each hiseki, or gravestone, and refreshments are also placed there. This is repeated on the fifteenth. Before daylight of the sixteenth the articles placed at the graves are packed into small boats of straw, provided with sails of paper or cloth, which are earned in procession, with vocal and instrumental music and loud cries, to the waterside, where they are launched, by way of dismissing the souls of the dead, who are supposed now to return to their graves. “This festival,” says Titsingh, speaking of its celebration at Nagasaki, “produces a highly picturesque effect. Outside the town, the view of it from the island Deshima is one of the most beautiful. The spectator would almost imagine that he beheld a torrent of fire pouring from the hill, owing to the immense number of small boats that are carried to the shore to be turned adrift on the sea. In the middle of the night, and when there is a brisk wind, the agitation of the water causing all these lights to dance to and fro, produces an enchanting scene. The noise and bustle in the town, the sound of gongs and the voices of the priests, combine to form a discord that can scarcely be conceived. The whole bay seems to be covered with ignes fatui. Though these barks have sails of paper, or stronger stuff, very few of them pass the place where our ships lie at anchor. In spite of the guards, thousands of paupers rush into the water to secure the small copper coin and other things placed in them. Next day, they strip the barks of all that is left, and the tide carries them out to sea. Thus terminates this ceremony.”[80]