The Imperial Japanese Navy

by Fred T. Jane

As all the Japanese understood and spoke English perfectly, this was not the happiest of introductions. However, one of them volunteered to show the tripper round, for which the tripper tendered thanks to our officer. He then called out to a party of his friends on the jetty that he had “managed to make one of the silly foreigners understand,” after which he devoted himself to patronising his guide. He meant no harm, doubtless, but it was a good deal of a tax on Japanese politeness, and had he been kicked off the ship he would have only had himself to thank for it. There are, unhappily, a good many of these tripper-folk who, given an inch in the way of being allowed on board at all, grab a good many ells in the way of taking advantage of it. Nor is it only the tripper-folk who take undue advantage of Japanese hospitality. At the “At Homes” I have seen women, who certainly ought to know better, armed with scissors, with which they cut down any decoration that takes their fancy. The sight of the decorations does not make the Tenth Commandment easy to observe. At the close of the “At Home,” the paper flowers are always all given away to the guests. But this sort of thing would never happen on board an English ship in a Japanese harbour.

For an “At Home” the Japanese officers put all the men to work making paper flowers. Chrysanthemums and cherry blossoms are the favourites, but convolvuli and iris are also made, as well as a few others. All are singularly beautiful and realistic reproductions—very different things to the ordinary artificial flower of commerce. With these flowers the greater part of the ship is profusely decorated, numbers of lanterns are hung about, and here and there a “Welcome” is stuck up. In addition, each ship hits on some device of its own; thus the Kasagi went in for a host of Japanese and British naval ensigns, while the Shikishima turned diving-dresses into decorative uses. Generally, as in the [illustration] of the Kasagi’s “At Home,” some sports make a programme, fencing, single stick, conjuring tricks, and so on, with some Japanese songs in between the turns. The Shikishima, however, before she left England, capped all these things by rigging up a stage, scenery, platform, and all, upon the quarter-deck, and here old Japanese plays, with the proper costumes and everything, were performed, while the entire upper deck was transformed into a paper flower-garden. I have attempted in the illustration to give some idea of the fairyland thus created, but it needs colour to give anything like the real effect.

“AT HOME”
ON BOARD THE KASAGI.

I have dwelt thus upon Japanese “At Homes,” because the way in which the officers put themselves out to enjoy these, and make their guests do the same, is an index to one of their leading characteristics. It is a curious thing that no descriptions or illustrations of these gala days of the Japanese war-god ever find their way into print. The whole thing is essentially Japanese, and shows that Western drill and weapons have not killed Oriental charm.

Beyond relegating art to its proper and inferior position, I do not think that Western influence has altered Japanese character to any great extent. A Japanese naval officer of some note, in relating to me his experiences during the war against China, referred to a combined naval and military operation in which he was engaged. Cholera killed them off like rats. “It was one of the funniest sights I have ever seen,” he said, “to see the soldiers all doubled up and rolling about by the side of the road as we marched.” This frame of mind is distinctly Oriental; it is also distinctly useful for a fighting-man. A British bluejacket might have contrived to see the humour of the situation also,[34] but no other Westerner is so blest—for it is a case of blest; the toughest warrior is the one that wins. Japan is not going to collapse in a war while this sort of sentiment can obtain. Modern warfare is becoming more and more a matter of acting on the morale of the personnel; it is on nerves rather than on bodies that shell-fire is intended to have its most powerful effect, and it will take a good deal of it, and a very deadly deal, to affect those who can see the humorous side of what is primarily a very terrible thing. Probably the root of the “war-instinct” lies somewhere hereabouts, and we should think many times ere we endeavour to “humanise” such ideas out of our own Mark Tapleys.

The Japanese also retains his old native dignity; European uniform has not abated one jot of that dignity which we have all read about as having been beneath the Kimino. Mostly, though not invariably, they are the descendants of the old fighting men, the Samaurai.[35] In the midst of the new order all the best of the old traditions live, just as, in a few cases in our new social order, pauper members of old families scorn the wealthy mushroom aristocracy around them. Whatever he may do, in whatever position he may be placed, the Japanese officer never forgets his dignity, and, further, is always a gentleman. I believe this is the first impression that he creates; it is also the last.

On the whole, though their politeness generally hides it completely, the Japanese are a very “touchy” and sensitive people. Quite unwittingly one is apt to tread on tender corns, without in the least realising it, until one gets to know them a good deal more than casually. They are sensitive about any infraction of the extended laws of etiquette, which they themselves observe most punctilliously. There are numbers of little things to be learnt and observed by one who would come to be on friendly terms with them, and I doubt if any Westerner can acquire all. Still, if he offends through ignorance he will never learn his fault from his hosts.

They carry this sensitiveness a considerable distance, and into a variety of things. For instance, to see themselves represented in print in broken English and queer pronunciation annoys them intensely. An Englishman, seeing his rendering of a foreign language guyed, would laugh at it; but not so the Japanese. I remember well the indignation of a Japanese at reading in a Portsmouth local paper that his countrymen had talked about their vessel as a fine “sipp.” He did not like it at all. Incidentally, I may mention that “sipp” was phonetically inaccurate; the majority say the word “ship” just as we do, while the rest would merely give the “i” the same phonetic value that it has in French, Italian, or Russian. On their part, I have known Japanese deliberately pronounce many of their own ship-names wrongly, so as not to offend English ears by emphasising an English error.