The Old World and Its Ways. Bryan William Jennings
Japanese ladies representing the Woman's Patriotic Association. Dr. Jones and I stood some feet in the rear of the officials and were greeted by the baron after he had saluted his own countrymen. He extended his hand to us. The incident is mentioned as illustrating the difference in the manner of greeting. For who would be more apt to clasp hands, if that were customary, than these two distinguished statesmen whose personalities are indissolubly linked together in the conclusion of a world renowned treaty?
A brief account of the reception of Admiral Togo may be interesting to those who read this article. While at Tokyo I visited the city hall, at the invitation of the mayor and city council. While there Mayor Ozaki informed me that he, in company with the mayors of the other cities, would tender Admiral Togo a reception on the following Tuesday, and invited me to be present. Of course I accepted, because it afforded a rare opportunity to observe Japanese customs as well as to see a large concourse of people. As I witnessed the naval review in Yokohama the day before and the illumination at night, I did not reach Tokyo until the morning of the reception, and this led me into considerable embarrassment. On the train I met a Japanese gentleman who could speak English. He was kind enough to find me a 'rikisha man and a pusher and to instruct them to take me at once to Uyeno Park. He then left me and the 'rikisha men followed his instructions to the letter. They had not proceeded far when I discovered that Admiral Togo had arrived on the same train and that a long procession had formed to conduct him to the park. Before I knew it, I was whisked past an escort of distinguished citizens who, clad in Prince Alberts and silk hats, followed the carriages, and then I found my 'rikisha drawn into an open space between two carriages. Grabbing the 'rikisha man in front of me, I told him by word and gesture to get out of the line of the procession. He could not understand English, and evidently thinking that I wanted to get nearer the front, he ran past a few carriages and then dropped into another opening. Again I got him out of the line, employing more emphasis than before, only to be carried still nearer the front. After repeated changes of position, all the time employing such sign language as I could command and attempting to convey by different tones of voice suggestions that I could not translate into language, I at last reached the head of the procession. And the 'rikisha men, as if satisfied with the success of their efforts, paused to await the starting of the line. I tried to inform them that I was not a part of the procession; that I wanted to get on another street; that they should take me to the park by some other route and do so at once. They at last comprehended sufficiently to leave the carriages and take up a rapid gait, but get off of the street they would not. For three miles they drew me between two rows of expectant people, whose eyes peered down the street to catch a glimpse of the great admiral, who, as the commander of the Japanese navy, has won such signal victories over the Russians. I saw a million people; they represented every class, age and condition. I saw more people than I ever saw before in a single day. Old men and old women, feeble, but strengthened by their enthusiasm; middle aged men and women whose sons had shared in the dangers and in the triumphs of the navy; students from the boys' schools and students from the girls' schools with flags and banners, little children dressed in all the colors of the rainbow – all were there. And I could imagine that each one of them old enough to think, was wondering why a foreigner was intruding upon a street which the police had cleared for a triumphal procession. If some one had angrily caught my 'rikisha men and thrust them through the crowd to a side street I should not have complained – I would even have felt relieved, but no one molested them or me and I reached the park some minutes ahead of the admiral. How glad I was to alight, and how willingly I rewarded the smiles of the 'rikisha men with a bonus – for had they not done their duty as they understood it? And had they not also given me, in spite of my protests, such a view of the people of Tokyo as I could have obtained in no other way?
At the park I luckily fell in with some of the councilmen whom I had met before and they took me in hand. I saw the procession arrive, heard the banzais (the Japanese cheers) as they rolled along the street, keeping pace with Togo's carriage, and I witnessed the earnest, yet always orderly, rejoicing of the crowd that had congregated at the end of the route. When the procession passed by us into the park the members of the city council fell in behind the carriages, and I with them. When we reached the stand, a seat was tendered me on the front row from which the extraordinary ceremonies attending the reception could be witnessed. Mayor Ozaki, the presiding officer, escorted Admiral Togo to a raised platform, and there the two took seats on little camp stools some ten feet apart, facing each other, with their sides to the audience and to those on the stand. After a moment's delay, a priest, clad in his official robes, approached with cake and a teacup on a tray and, kneeling, placed them before the admiral. Tea was then brought in a long handled pot and poured into the cup. After the distinguished guest had partaken of these refreshments, the mayor arose and read an address of welcome. He has the reputation of being one of the best orators in the empire, and his part was doubly interesting to me. As he confined himself to his manuscript, I could not judge of his delivery, but his voice was pleasing and his manner natural. The address recited the exploits of Admiral Togo and gave expression to the gratitude of the people. At its conclusion the hero-admiral arose and modestly acknowledged the compliment paid to him and to his officers. Admiral Togo is short, even for the Japanese, and has a scanty beard. Neither in stature nor in countenance does he give evidence of the stern courage and indomitable will which have raised him to the pinnacle of fame.
When he sat down the mayor proposed three times three banzais, and they were given with a will by the enormous crowd that stood in the open place before the stand. While writing this article, I am in receipt of information that Mayor Ozaki has secured for me one of the little camp stools above referred to and has had made for me a duplicate of the other. They will not only be interesting souvenirs of an historic occasion, and prized as such, but they will be interesting also because they contrast so sharply with the large and richly upholstered chairs used in America on similar occasions.
From this public meeting the admiral and his officers were conducted to a neighboring hall where an elaborate luncheon was served. With the councilmen I went to this hall and was presented to the admiral and his associates, one of whom had been a student at Annapolis.
By the courtesy of Hon. Lloyd Griscom, the American minister, I had an audience with the emperor, these audiences being arranged through the minister representing the country from which the caller comes. Our minister, to whom I am indebted for much assistance and many kindnesses during my stay at the capital, accompanied me to the palace and instructed me, as they say in the fraternities, "in the secret work of the order." Except where the caller wears a uniform, he is expected to appear in evening dress, although the hour fixed is in the day time. At the outer door stand men in livery, one of whom conducts the callers through long halls, beautifully decorated on ceilings and walls, to a spacious reception room where a halt is made until the summons comes from the emperor's room. The emperor stands in the middle of the receiving room with an interpreter at his side. The caller on reaching the threshold bows; he then advances half way to the emperor, pauses and bows again; he then proceeds and bows a third time as he takes the extended hand of the sovereign.
The conversation is brief and formal, consisting of answers to the questions asked by his majesty. The emperor is fifty-three years old, about five feet six inches in height, well built and wears a beard, although, as is the case with most Japanese, the growth is not heavy. On retiring the caller repeats the three bows.
We were shown through the palace, and having seen the old palace at Kyoto, which was the capital until the date of the restoration (1868), I was struck with the difference. The former was severely plain; the latter represents the best that Japanese art can produce.
No discussion of Japanese customs would be complete without mention of the tea ceremonial. One meets tea on his arrival; it is his constant companion during his stay and it is mingled with the farewells that speed him on his departure. Whenever he enters a house he is offered tea and cake and they are never refused. This custom prevails in the larger stores and is scrupulously observed at public buildings and colleges. The tea is served in dainty cups and taken without sugar or cream. The tea drinking habit is universal here, the kettle of hot water sitting on the coals in the brazier most of the time. At each railroad station the boys sing out, "Cha! Cha!" (the Japanese word for tea) and for less than two cents in our money they will furnish the traveler with an earthen pot of hot tea, with pot and cup thrown in.
The use of tea at social gatherings