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.