“[FOR CENTURIES LOVERS HAVE MET ABOUT THE OLD WELL]”
There is no need to describe the attractions of Ikao, with its main street consisting of a nearly continuous steep flight of steps, and its houses on the side streets hanging over each other as they sit on the terraced slope of Mount Haruna, or border on the deep ravine of Yusawa, through which rushes a foaming torrent. [For centuries lovers have met about the old well] in the centre of its lower end. All this will be remembered by those who have been there; or it can be read about in the guidebooks. But other engagements prevented a long stay in this delightful spot; nor could time be spared for a visit to Mushi-yu, further up the mountain, where numbers of peasants were coming to avail themselves of the sulphurous gases which were supposed to be good for rheumatic troubles. The acuteness of our self-denial of the last-mentioned privilege was enhanced by an advertisement which was posted just where the path up the mountain diverges from the main way, and where the Christian patriot Neesima spent some of his last hours. This advertisement read: “Hot steam baths! uncommon to the World. Cures rhumatiz, stummach-ake and various other all diseases by Cold caught.”
The return to Tokyo was wholly commonplace. In spite of numerous petty annoyances and disappointments, such as are to be expected anywhere in the world by the traveller in as yet unfrequented parts, and even when recalling with a grimace the physical discomforts of the pack-horses with their wooden saddles and their faithless bettos, my friend and I are still fond of recurring in memory to the fun we had when, in July of 1892, together we climbed Asama-yama.
CHAPTER IV
THE SUMMER SCHOOL AT HAKONÉ
On my return from the excursion to Asama-yama, after a single night spent in Tokyo, I went up into the Hakoné Mountains to attend the Summer School of missionaries and Christian students, which was to be held that year in the village of the same name. Here there would be audiences eager to hear addresses on themes connected with the discussion of ethical and religious problems—matters about which the younger portion of the nation were then not nearly so solicitous as they are at the present time. The attention of the men who were working to bring in the New Japan was more exclusively directed to defensive and offensive armament, and to what is popularly called “science”; and the opinion prevalent among these men seemed to be that all the nation needed for truest prosperity and advancement to the front ranks of civilisation, was a sufficiently large army and navy, and a thorough training for its youth in the sciences and arts which deal with material things. It is a great encouragement and comfort to the real friends of Japan to know that so many of its leaders and of its more promising young men no longer hold these shallow opinions. And if the next generation of Japanese can escape the corrupting and debasing influence of the American and European spirit of commercialism, and can conserve and enlarge and elevate that ancient spirit of their own best men, which they call “Bushidō,” there is even prospect that they will equal or excel the Western nations in those spiritual qualities which make nations truly great.
The Committee of the Summer School at Hakoné had sent a young man to escort me to the place of meeting; and in his company I took the early morning train for Kozu. This village, with its charming view of the Bay of Odawara, the volcano of Oshima, and the islet of Enoshima, in front, and on turning around, when the weather is favourable, of Fuji behind, was as far toward our destination as the train could carry us. From there, through the celebrated castle-town of Odawara, we took the tram to Yumoto. In feudal times many bloody conflicts were fought in and around Odawara. For here dwelt in succession some of the most celebrated of the families of Daimyos in the days of the “Old Japan.” One of these, the Hōjō, was overthrown in 1590 by the cruel Hideyoshi. And the fact that this was accomplished by a sudden attack while the generals within the castle were discussing, and could come to no agreement, as to the best plan of defence, has led to the proverbial saying, Odawara hyogi, or “the Odawara conference”; which means: “Endless talk defeats prompt and efficient action.”
The guide-book of the period remarks that the large inn at Yumoto “would seem to be conducted with a view to the almost exclusive reception of Japanese guests;” but, perhaps owing to the nativity and energy of my escort, I was most royally entertained there. Both luncheon and bath were in the best Japanese style.
“[DARK AND SOLEMN AND STATELY CRYPTOMERIAS]”
Early in the afternoon a sedan-chair, which had been securely tied on either side to a long bamboo pole so as to fit it for carrying by four coolies, was standing in front of the inn. Into this I was mounted, my luggage having been strapped on underneath; the whole was then raised aloft on the shoulders of the men, and started off in impressive style with orders from my escort to go slowly, as he would remain behind to settle the bills and would then overtake us shortly. We were to go up the mountains by the old Tōkaidō, and via Hata. But the sturdy bearers made such light weight of their burden that the young man did not catch them except by hard running; and then only when they had nearly finished the ten miles or more over the mountain pass, which lay between Yumoto and the village of Hakoné. The interest and joy of that memorable ride over the Hakoné mountains will never be forgotten. Indeed, it is as fresh to-day as it was eighteen years ago. The weather was superb; the sky an Italian blue, and the temperature a summer heat softened by the woods and the elevation of the mountains. For miles the way lay along the heights on one side; and on the other the mountains fell away below into valleys whose depths were not visible, but beyond which other mountains could be seen through that soft haze which is responsible for so many of the most beautiful atmospheric effects in the Land of the Rising or—as the Japanese like to say—now Risen Sun. Both above and below was verdure everywhere,—of [dark and solemn and stately cryptomerias], of light and feathery bamboo, and of various other trees, and of hanging vines. Clear mountain streams broke in water-falls from the cliffs over our heads; crossed the highway as brooks or rivulets; and turning again to water-falls, took another leap into the valley below. The road had formerly been paved with stone blocks and lined with cryptomerias at regular intervals on either side. But since the Tōkaidō railway was finished in 1889, it has ceased to be the great thoroughfare between the capital cities; the paving has been buried in mud or washed away by the floods which have found here their most convenient passage down the pass; and the young trees and shrubs have largely encroached upon its Imperial domain. All this, however, together with huge red lilies and other flowers which had pre-empted the deserted royal highway, made it more attractive for the occupant of the sedan-chair on that July afternoon. To be carried up was indeed an ignoble way to make such a journey; but the demands of etiquette, which are somewhat more inexorable in Japan than with us, seemed to make submission unavoidable.