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Surroundings by Edward S. Morse

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Title: Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Author: Edward S. Morse

Release Date: August 21, 2016 [Ebook 52868]

Language: English

***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK

JAPANESE HOMES AND THEIR SURROUNDINGS
***
 JAPANESE HOMES AND THEIR
SURROUNDINGS
With Illustrations by the Author

Edward S. Morse
Director of the Peabody Academy of Science;
Late Professor of Zoölogy, University of Tokio, Japan;
Member of the National Academy of Science;
Fellow of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences; Etc.

Harper & Brothers, Franklin Square, New York

1889
Contents
PREFACE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xi
INTRODUCTION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv
CHAPTER I. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1
CHAPTER II. TYPES OF HOUSES. . . . . . . . . . . . 43
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 101
CHAPTER IV. INTERIORS (Continued). . . . . . . . . . 175
CHAPTER V. ENTRANCES AND APPROACHES. . . . 223
CHAPTER VI. GARDENS. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 261
CHAPTER VII. MISCELLANEOUS MATTERS. . . . . . 285
CHAPTER VIII. THE ANCIENT HOUSE. . . . . . . . . 311
CHAPTER IX. THE NEIGHBORING HOUSE. . . . . . . 325
GLOSSARY. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 337
Footnotes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 345
Illustrations
Fig. 1.—View in Tokio, showing shops and houses.
(Copied from a Photograph). . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2
Fig. 2.—View in Tokio, showing temples and gardens.
(Copied from a Photograph). . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2
Fig. 3.—View of Enoshima (Copied from a Photograph). . 4
Fig. 4.—Side Framing. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12
Fig 5.—Pounding Down Foundation Stones. . . . . . . . . 14
Fig. 6.—Foundation Stones. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15
Fig. 7.—Section of Framing. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15
Fig. 8.—Framing. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15
Fig. 9.—End-framing of Large Building. . . . . . . . . . . 16
Fig 10.—Roof-frame of Large Building. . . . . . . . . . . 17
Fig. 11.—Roof-framing of a Kura. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19
Fig. 12.—Framing of an Ordinary Two-stored House. . . . 19
Fig. 13.—Outside Braces. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21
Fig. 14.—Outside Brace. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 22
Fig. 15.—Ornamental Brace. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 22
Fig. 16.—Method of Cutting Timber for House-Finish. . . 24
Fig. 17.—Section of Post Grooved for Partition. . . . . . . 24
Fig. 18.—Bundle of Boards. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 24
Fig. 19.—Section of ceiling. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 24
Fig. 20.—Ceiling-rafters Supported Temporarily. . . . . . 27
Fig. 21.—Method of Suspending Ceiling as Seen from
Above. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27
Fig. 22.—Ceiling-Board Weighted with Stones. . . . . . . 27
Fig. 23.—Ceiling-Board in Closet. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27
Fig. 24.—Method of Removing Boards from a Bundle to
Preserve Uniformity of Grain. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28
Fig. 25.—Arrangement of Square Tiles on Side of House. . 30
viii Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 26.—A Japanese Carpenter's Vice. . . . . . . . . . . 35

Fig. 27.—Carpenters' Tools in Common Use. . . . . . . . 37
Fig. 28.—A Japanese Nail-Basket. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 38
Fig. 29.—A Carpenter's Marking-Brush Made of Wood. . 39
Fig. 30.—The Sumi-Tsubo. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 39
Fig. 31.—The Japanese Plumb-Line. . . . . . . . . . . . . 40
Fig. 32.—Ancient Carpenter (copied from an old painting). 40
Fig. 33.—Street in Kanda Ku, Tokio. . . . . . . . . . . . . 48
Fig. 34.—Street in Kanda Ku, Tokio. . . . . . . . . . . . . 49
Fig. 35.—Block of Cheap Tenements in Tokio. . . . . . . 50
Fig. 36.—Street View of Dwelling in Tokio. . . . . . . . . 51
Fig. 37.—View of Dwelling from Garden, Tokio. . . . . . 52
Fig. 38.—Dwelling Near Kudan, Tokio. . . . . . . . . . . 52
Fig. 39.—Country Inn in Rikuzen. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 53
Fig. 40.—Country Inn in Rikuzen. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 54
Fig. 41.—House Near Mororan, Yezo. . . . . . . . . . . . 55
Fig. 42.—Bay Window, Village of Odzuka, Rikuzen. . . . 56
Fig. 43.—Three-storied House in Rikuchiu. . . . . . . . . 56
Fig. 44.—Street in the Suburbs of Morioka. . . . . . . . . 57
Fig. 45.—Old Farm-house in Kabutoyama. . . . . . . . . . 58
Fig. 46.—Entrance to Court-yard of Old House in Kioto. . 59
Fig. 47.—Old house in Kioto. Court-yard view. . . . . . . 60
Fig. 48.—Old House in Kioto, Garden View. . . . . . . . 61
Fig. 49.—House in Tokio. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 63
Fig. 50.—View from the Second Story of Dwelling in
Imado, Tokio. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 64
Fig. 51.—Old Inn in Mishima, Suruga. . . . . . . . . . . . 65
Fig. 52.—Village Street in Nasaike, Yamashiro. . . . . . . 66
Fig. 53.—Shore of Osumi. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 67
Fig. 54.—Farmer's Houses in Mototaru-Midsu, Osumi. . . 67
Fig. 55.—Fishermen's Huts in Hakodate. . . . . . . . . . . 68
Fig. 56.—Fishermen's Huts in Enoshima. . . . . . . . . . 68
Fig. 57.—Kura in Tokio. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 69
Fig. 58.—Kura, or Fire-proof Buildings in Tokio. . . . . . 69
 ix

Fig. 59.—Old House in Hakodate. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 70

Fig. 60.—Hisashi. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 73
Fig. 61.—Bunch of shingles, nails, and hammer. . . . . . . 74
Fig. 62.—Shingler's Hand. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 74
Fig. 63.—Bamboo Strips on Shingle-Roof. . . . . . . . . . 74
Fig. 64.—Roof with shingles partly laid. . . . . . . . . . . 76
Fig. 65.—Ridge on shingle-roof in Musashi. . . . . . . . . 76
Fig. 66.—Water-conductor. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77
Fig. 67.—Ridge of tiled roof. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 78
Fig. 68.—Ornamental coping of tiles. . . . . . . . . . . . 79
Fig. 69.—Ornamental coping of tiles. . . . . . . . . . . . 79
Fig. 70.—Ornamental coping of tiles. . . . . . . . . . . . 79
Fig. 71.—Eaves of tiled roof. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 81
Fig. 72.—Nagasaki tiled roof. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 81
Fig. 73.—Hon-gawara, or True Tile. . . . . . . . . . . . . 82
Fig. 74.—Yedo-gawara, or Yedo-tile eaves. . . . . . . . . 82
Fig. 75.—French tile eaves. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 82
Fig. 76.—Itami tile for ridge. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 83
Fig. 77.—Stone roof. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 84
Fig. 78.—Thatch, and thatcher's implements. . . . . . . . 86
Fig. 79.—End of roof in Fujita, Iwaki. . . . . . . . . . . . 86
Fig. 80.—Tiled ridge of thatched roof in Iwaki. . . . . . . 87
Fig. 81.—Tiled ridge of thatched roof in Musashi. . . . . . 87
Fig. 82.—Bamboo-ridge of thatched roof in Musashi. . . . 88
Fig. 83.—Thatched Roof, near Tokio. . . . . . . . . . . . 89
Fig. 84.—Thatched roof, near Tokio. . . . . . . . . . . . . 90
Fig. 85.—Ridge of thatched roof at Kabutoyama, Musashi. 91
Fig. 86.—Crest of thatched roof in Omi. . . . . . . . . . . 92
Fig. 87.—Tile and bamboo ridge of thatched roof, Takat-
suki, Setsu. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 92
Fig. 88.—Crest of thatched roof in Mikawa. . . . . . . . . 93
Fig. 89.—Crest of thatched roof in Kioto. . . . . . . . . . 93
Fig. 90.—Crest of thatched roof in Mikawa. . . . . . . . . 94
Fig. 91.—Crest of thatched roof in Kii. . . . . . . . . . . . 94
x Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 92.—Thatched roof in Totomi. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 95

Fig. 93.—Crest of thatched roof in Kii. . . . . . . . . . . . 95
Fig. 94.—Crest of thatched roof in Ise. . . . . . . . . . . . 96
Fig. 95.—Paved space under eaves of thatched roof. . . . . 97
Fig. 96.—Guest-room in Hachi-ishi. . . . . . . . . . . . . 102
Fig. 97.—Plan of dwelling-house in Tokio. P, Parlor
or Guest-room; S, Sitting-room; D, Dining-room; L,
Library, St, Study, SR Servants' Room; B, Bed-room, K,
Kitchen, H, Hall; V Vestibule; C, Closet; T Tokonoma;
Sh, Shrine, U and L, Privy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 105
Fig. 98.—Plan of dwelling-house in Tokio. P, Parlor
or Guest-room; B, Bed-room, K, Kitchen, SR Ser-
vants' Room; BR, Bath Room, E, E, Side-entrances, V
Vestibule; H, Hall; WR, Waiting-room; C, Closet; T
Tokonoma; U and L, Privy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 108
Fig. 99.—Plan of a portion of a Daimyo's residence. . . . . 111
Fig. 100.—Mat. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 113
Fig. 101.—Arrangement of mats in different-sized rooms. . 113
Fig. 102.—Attitude of woman in sitting. . . . . . . . . . . 115
Fig. 103.—Section through verandah and guest-room. . . . 117
Fig. 104.—Reed-screen. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 119
Fig. 105.—Sliding panel. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 120
Fig. 106.—Hikite. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 121
Fig. 107.—Hikite. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 121
Fig. 108.—Hikite. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 121
Fig. 109.—Hikite. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 121
Fig. 110.—Hikite with cord. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 121
Fig. 111.—Straightening shMji frame. . . . . . . . . . . . 123
Fig. 112.—ShMji with ornamental frame. . . . . . . . . . . 124
Fig. 113.—Portion of Toko-Bashira. . . . . . . . . . . . . 126
Figs. 114, 115, 116, and 117. Ornamental-headed nails. . . 126
Fig. 118.—Shelves contrasted with conventional drawing
of mist, or clouds. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 129
Fig. 119.—Guest-room. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 130
 xi

Fig. 120.—Guest-room, with recesses in corners. . . . . . 131

Fig. 121.—Guest-room showing circular window. . . . . . 131
Fig. 122.—Guest-room showing writing-place. . . . . . . 133
Fig. 123.—Guest-room with wide tokonoma. . . . . . . . 133
Fig. 124.—Small guest-room. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 134
Fig. 125.—Guest-room of dwelling in Tokio. . . . . . . . 135
Fig. 126.—Guest-koom in Kiyomidzu, Kioto. . . . . . . . 135
Fig. 127.—Guest-room of dwelling in Tokio. . . . . . . . 136
Fig. 128.—Guest-room of a country house. . . . . . . . . 137
Fig. 129.—Corner of guest-room. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 138
Fig. 130.—Tea-room in Nan-en-ji temple, Kioto. . . . . . 142
Fig. 131.—Tea-room in Fujimi pottery, Nagoya. . . . . . . 142
Fig. 132.—Tea-room in Miyajima. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 144
Fig. 133.—Kitchen for tea-utensils. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 145
Fig. 134.—Tea-room in Imado, Tokio. . . . . . . . . . . . 145
Fig. 135.—Corner of the tea-room shown in Fig. 134. . . . 147
Fig. 136.—Room in second story of an old building in
Kawagoye, Musashi. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 148
Fig. 137.—Room in kura fitted up as a library, Tokio. . . . 149
Fig. 138.—Framework for draping room in kura. . . . . . 150
Fig. 139.—Space between dwelling and kura, roofed over
and utilized as a kitchen in Tokio. . . . . . . . . . . . . 150
Fig. 140.—Doorway of an old kura in Kioto. . . . . . . . . 151
Fig. 141.—Key to kura, and bunch of keys. . . . . . . . . 152
Fig. 142.—Padlock to kura. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 152
Fig. 143.—Panelled ceiling. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 154
Fig. 144.—Ramma in Hakòne Village. . . . . . . . . . . . 157
Fig. 145.—Bamboo ramma. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 158
Fig. 146.—Porcelain ramma in Tokio. . . . . . . . . . . . 159
Fig. 147.—Ramma of bamboo and perforated panel. . . . . 159
Fig. 148.—Carved wood ramma in Gojio Village, Yamato. 161
Fig. 149.—Carved wood ramma in town of Yatsushiro,
Higo. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 161
xii Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 150.—Ramma, composed of two thin boards, in

Nagoya, Owari. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 161
Fig. 151.—ShMji for window. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 163
Fig. 152.—ShMji-frame for window. . . . . . . . . . . . . 163
Fig. 153.—ShMji-frame for window. . . . . . . . . . . . . 163
Fig. 154.—Window. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 164
Fig. 155.—BiyM-bu, or folding screen. . . . . . . . . . . . 166
Fig. 156.—Wrought metallic mounting of screen frame. . . 166
Fig. 157.—Screen-box. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 167
Fig. 158.—Foot-weight for screen. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 167
Fig. 159.—Furosaki BiyM-bu. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 168
Fig. 160.—Model of tsui-tate in pottery. . . . . . . . . . . 169
Fig. 161.—Tsui-tate. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 170
Fig. 162.—Bamboo curtains. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 170
Fig. 163.—Bamboo curtain. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 170
Fig. 164.—Curtain screen. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 170
Fig. 165.—Fringed curtains. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 171
Fig. 166.—Slashed curtain. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 172
Fig. 167.—Kitchen in old farmhouse at Kabutoyama. . . . 175
Fig. 168.—Kitchen range. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 176
Fig. 169.—Kitchen range, with smoke-conductor. . . . . . 178
Fig. 170.—Kitchen in city house. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 178
Fig. 171.—Braziers. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 179
Fig. 172.—Bamboo rack and knife case. . . . . . . . . . . 181
Fig. 173.—Ji-zai . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 181
Fig. 174.—Fireplace in country house. . . . . . . . . . . . 182
Fig. 175.—The best fireplace. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 182
Fig. 176.—An adjustable device for supporting a kettle. . . 183
Fig. 177.—Kitchen closet, drawers, cupboard, and stairs
combined. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 183
Fig. 178.—Stair-rail. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 187
Fig. 179.—Steps to verandah. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 187
Fig. 180.—Bath-tub with side oven. . . . . . . . . . . . . 191
Fig. 181.—Bath-tub with inside flue. . . . . . . . . . . . . 191
 xiii

Fig. 182.—Bath-tub in section, with oven outside the room. 192

Fig. 183.—Bath-tub with outside heating-chamber. . . . . 192
Fig. 184.—Bath-tub with iron base. . . . . . . . . . . . . 193
Fig. 185.—Lavatory in country inn. . . . . . . . . . . . . 194
Fig. 186.—Lavatory in private house. . . . . . . . . . . . 194
Fig. 187.—Lavatory copied from Japanese book. . . . . . 196
Fig. 188-192.—Forms of towel-racks. . . . . . . . . . . . 196
Fig. 193.—Forms of pillow in common use. . . . . . . . . 198
Fig. 194.—Showing position of head in resting on pillow. . 199
Fig. 195.—Heating arrangement in floor. . . . . . . . . . . 200
Fig. 196.—Elbow-rest. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 201
Fig. 197.—Common hibachi. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 202
Fig. 198.—Hibachi. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 203
Fig. 199.—Hibachi. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 203
Fig. 200.—Hibachi arranged for company. . . . . . . . . . 204
Fig. 201.—Tabako-bon. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 205
Fig. 202.—Tabako-box. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 205
Fig. 203.—Tabako-box. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 205
Fig. 204.—Pan for holding burning charcoal. . . . . . . . 206
Fig. 205.—Iron candlestick. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 207
Fig. 206.—Lamp. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 209
Fig. 207.—Lamp. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 209
Fig. 208.—Lamp and laquered stand. . . . . . . . . . . . . 209
Fig. 209.—Wall-lamp. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 210
Fig. 210.—Lamp. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 210
Fig. 211.—Pottery lamp. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 211
Fig. 212.—Pottery lamp. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 212
Fig. 213.—Pottery candlestick. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 212
Fig. 214.—Fixed street-lantern. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 212
Fig. 215.—Household shrine. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 215
Fig. 216.—Swallows' nests in private house. . . . . . . . . 216
Fig. 217.—Interior of privy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 216
Fig. 218.—Privy of inn in Hachi-ishi village, Nikko. . . . 217
xiv Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 219.—Privy connected with a merchant's house in

Asakusa. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 219
Fig. 220.—Interior of a privy in Asakusa. . . . . . . . . . 219
Fig. 221.—Main entrance to house. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 225
Fig. 222.—Plan of vestibule and hall. . . . . . . . . . . . 225
Fig. 223.—Shoe-closet. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 227
Fig. 224.—Lantern-shelf in hall. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 228
Fig. 225.—Grated entrance, with sliding door. . . . . . . . 228
Fig. 226.—Verandah floor. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 231
Fig. 227.—Verandah of an old Kioto house. . . . . . . . . 231
Fig. 228.—Balcony rail. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 232
Fig. 229.—Balcony rail and perforated panels. . . . . . . . 233
Fig. 230.—Balcony rail. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 233
Fig. 231.—Balcony rail. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 234
Fig. 232.—Balcony rail. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 234
Fig. 233.—Rain-door lock unbolted. . . . . . . . . . . . . 236
Fig. 234.—Rain-door lock bolted. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 236
Fig. 235.—Knob for rain-door. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 237
Fig. 236.—Corner-roller for rain-door. . . . . . . . . . . . 238
Fig. 237.—Verandah showing swinging closet for rain-
doors, and also ChMdzu-bachi. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 239
Fig. 238.—ChMdzu-bachi. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 240
Fig. 239.—ChMdzu-bachi. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 241
Fig. 240.—ChMdzu-bachi. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 242
Fig. 241.—ChMdzu-bachi and Hisashi-yen. . . . . . . . . . 243
Fig. 242.—Gateway in yashiki building. . . . . . . . . . . 244
Fig. 243.—Gateway of city house from within. . . . . . . 245
Fig. 244.—Gate-rattle. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 246
Fig. 245.—Bolt for little sliding door in gateway. . . . . . 246
Fig. 246.—Gateway to city residence. . . . . . . . . . . . 247
Fig. 247.—Gateway to city residence. . . . . . . . . . . . 248
Fig. 248.—Gateway near Tokio. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 249
Fig. 249.—Gateway. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 249
Fig. 250.—Rustic gateway. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 250
 xv

Fig. 251.—Rustic gateway. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 252

Fig. 252.—Rustic garden gate. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 252
Fig. 253.—Garden gateway. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 253
Fig. 254.—Ordinary wooden fence. . . . . . . . . . . . . 254
Fig. 255.—Stake fence. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 254
Fig. 256.—Bamboo fence. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 255
Fig. 257.—Fence in Hakòne village. . . . . . . . . . . . . 256
Fig. 258.—Rustic garden-fence. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 256
Fig. 259.—Sode-gaki. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 257
Fig. 260.—Sode-gaki. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 258
Fig. 261.—Sode-gaki. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 258
Fig. 262.—Barred opening in a fence. . . . . . . . . . . . 259
Fig. 263.—Garden tablet. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 263
Fig. 264.—Ishi-dMrM in Tokio . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 264
Fig. 265.—Ishi-dMrM in Miyajima . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 265
Fig. 266.—Ishi-dMrM in Shirako, Musashi. . . . . . . . . . 265
Fig. 267.—Ishi-dMrM in Utsunomiya. . . . . . . . . . . . . 266
Fig. 268.—Stone foot-bridge. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 266
Fig. 269.—Stone foot-bridge. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 267
Fig. 270.—Garden brook and foot-bridge. . . . . . . . . . 267
Fig. 271.—Summer-house in private garden, Tokio. . . . . 269
Fig. 272.—Summer-house in imperial garden, Tokio. . . . 270
Fig. 273.—Rustic opening in summer-house, Kobe. . . . . 271
Fig. 274.—Rustic opening in summer-house, Okazaki. . . 271
Fig. 275.—Various forms of garden paths. . . . . . . . . . 273
Fig. 276.—Wooden trough for plants. . . . . . . . . . . . 274
Fig. 277.—Plant-pot of old plank. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 275
Fig. 278.—Dwarf plum. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 276
Fig. 279.—Dwarf pine. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 276
Fig. 280.—Curiously trained pine-tree. . . . . . . . . . . . 277
Fig. 281.—Dwarfed pine. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 277
Fig. 282.—Shrubs wrapped in straw for winter. . . . . . . 278
Fig. 283.—Showing approaches to house. (Reproduced
from “Chikusan teizoden”, a Japanese work.) . . . . . 278
 xvi Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 284.—Little garden belonging to the priests of a bud-

dhist temple. (Reproduced from “Chikusan teizoden”,
a Japanese work.) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 280
Fig. 285.—Garden of a merchant. (Reproduced from
“Chikusan teizoden”, a Japanese work.) . . . . . . . . 280
Fig. 286.—Garden of a daimio. (Reproduced from
“Chikusan teizoden”, a Japanese work.) . . . . . . . . 280
Fig. 287.—Ancient form of well-curb. . . . . . . . . . . . 286
Fig. 288.—Stone well-curb in private garden. . . . . . . . 287
Fig. 289.—Wooden well-frame. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 288
Fig. 290.—Rustic well-frame. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 288
Fig. 291.—Aqueduct reservoir at Miyajima, Aki. . . . . . 289
Fig. 292.—Aqueducts at Miyajima, Aki. . . . . . . . . . . 290
Fig. 293.—Well at Kaga Yashiki, Tokio. . . . . . . . . . . 290
Fig. 294.—Hanging flower-holder of bamboo. . . . . . . . 294
Fig. 295.—Hanging flower-holder of basket-work. . . . . 295
Fig. 296.—Cheap bracket for flower-pots. . . . . . . . . . 296
Fig. 297.—Curious combination of buckets for flowers. . . 297
Fig. 298.—Framed picture, with supports. . . . . . . . . . 301
Fig. 299.—Hashira kakushi. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 302
Fig. 300.—Writing-desk. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 306
Fig. 301.—Staging on house-roof, with bucket and brush. . 307
Fig. 302.—Box for transporting articles. . . . . . . . . . . 307
Fig. 303.—Malay house near singapore. . . . . . . . . . . 317
Fig. 304.—Ridge of roof in Cholon, Anam. . . . . . . . . 318
Fig. 305.—Interior of Malay house, showing bed-place.
Singapore. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 319
Fig. 306.—Aino house, Yezo. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 326
Fig. 307.—Aino house, Yezo. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 326

[v]
 [vi]
To William Sturgis Bigelow, M.D. In memory of the delightful
experiences in the “Heart of Japan” this volume is affectionately
inscribed by the AUTHOR.
 [vii]

PREFACE
In an exceedingly interesting article on the early study of the
Dutch in Japan, by Professor K. Mitsukuri,1 the author has oc-
casion to refer to the uncle of one of the three famous Japanese
scholars who translated into Japanese a Dutch book on anato-
my. He says this uncle “Miyada was almost eccentric in his
disposition. He held it to be a solemn duty to learn any art
or accomplishment that might be going out of the world, and
then describe it so fully that it might be preserved to posterity.”
The nephew was faithful to his uncle's instructions, and “though
following medicine for his profession, he took it upon himself to
learn ‘hitoyogiri,’—a certain kind of music which was well-nigh
forgotten,—and even went so far as to study a kind of dramatic
acting.”
Though not animated by Miyada's spirit when I set about the
task of collecting the material embodied in this work, I feel now
that the labor has not been altogether in vain, as it may result
in preserving many details of the Japanese house,—some of
them trivial, perhaps,—which in a few decades of years may be
difficult, if not impossible, to obtain. Whether this has been ac-
complished or not, the praiseworthy ambition of the old Japanese
scholar might well be imitated by the ethnological student in his
investigations,—since nothing can be of greater importance than
the study of those nations and peoples who are passing through [viii]
profound changes and readjustments as a result of their compul-
sory contact with the vigorous, selfish, and mercantile nations of
1
Transactions of the Asiatic Society of Japan, vol. v., part i. p. 207.
 xx Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

the West, accompanied on their part by a propagandism in some

respects equally mercenary and selfish.
Thanks to the activity of a number of students of various
nationalities in the employ of the Japanese government, and
more especially to the scholarly attachés of the English legation
in Japan, much information has been obtained concerning this
interesting people which might otherwise have been lost. If inves-
tigators and students would bear in mind the precept of Miyada,
and seize upon those features in social life—forms of etiquette,
frames, ceremonies, and other manners and customs—which are
the first to change in any contact with alien races, a very im-
portant work would be accomplished for the future sociologist.
The native Japanese student might render the greatest service in
this work by noting down from the older persons, before it is
too late, the social features and habits of his own people as they
were before the late Revolution. Profound changes have already
taken place in Japan, and other changes are still in progress. As
an indication of the rapidity of some of these changes, reference
might be made to an interesting memoir, by Mr. McClatchie, on
“The Feudal Mansions of Yedo;” and though this was written but
ten years after the revolution of 1868, he speaks of the yashiki,
or fortified mansions where dwelt the feudal nobles of Japan, as
in “many cases deserted, ruined, and fallen into decay;” and he
describes observances and manners connected with the yashiki,
such as “etiquette of the gates,” “exchange of yashiki,” “rules
relating to fires,” etc., which were then obsolete at the time of
his writing, though in full force but a few years before.
I shall be particularly grateful for any facts concerning the
Japanese house beyond those recorded in this book, or which
[ix] may be already in my possession, as also for the correction of
any errors which may have unavoidably been made in the text.
Should a second edition of this work be called for, such new
information and corrections will be incorporated therein, with
due acknowledgments.
PREFACE xxi

I wish to express my gratitude to Dr. W. S. Bigelow, whose

delightful companionship I enjoyed during the collection of many
of the facts and sketches contained in this volume, and whose
hearty sympathy and judicious advice were of the greatest service
to me. To Professor and Mrs. E. F. Fenollosa, also, my thanks are
especially due for unnumbered kindnesses during my last visit to
Japan.
I would also here return my thanks to a host of Japanese
friends who have at various times, in season and out of season,
granted me the privilege of sketching their homes and examining
their dwellings from top to bottom in quest of material for this
volume; who furthermore have answered questions, translated
terms, hunted up information, and in many ways aided me,—so
that it may be truly said, that had this assistance been withheld,
but little of my special work could have been accomplished.
Any effort to recall the names of all these friends would lead
to the unavoidable omission of some; nevertheless, I must spe-
cially mention Mr. H. Takamine, Director of the Tokio Normal
School; Dr. Seiken Takenaka; Mr. Tsunejiro Miyaoka; Mr. S.
Tejima, Director of the Tokio Educational Museum; Professors
Toyama, Yatabe, Kikuchi, Mitsukuri, Sasaki, and Kozima, and
Mr. Ishikawa and others, of the University of Tokio; Mr. Isawa
and Mr. Kodzu, Mr. Fukuzawa, the distinguished teacher and
author; Mr. Kashiwagi, Mr. Kohitsu, and Mr. Masuda. I must
also acknowledge my indebtedness to Mr. H. Kato, Director of
the University of Tokio, to Mr. Hattori, Vice-director, and to
Mr. Hamao and other officers of the Educational Department,
for many courtesies, and for special accommodations during my
last visit to Japan. Nor must I omit to mention Mr. Tachibana, [x]
Director of the nobles' school; Mr. Kikkawa, Mr. Tahara, Mr.
Kineko, Mr. Ariga, Mr. Tanada, Mr. Nakawara, Mr. Yamaguchi,
Mr. Negishi of Kabutoyama, and many others, who supplied
me with various notes of interest. In this country I have been
specially indebted to Mr. A. S. Mihara and Mr. S. Fukuzawa, for
xxii Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

valuable assistance during the preparation of the text; and to Mr.

Arakawa, Mr. Shiraishi, Mr. Shugio, and Mr. Yamada of New
York, for timely aid.
To the Board of Trustees of the Peabody Academy of Science,
who, recognizing the ethnological value of the work I had in
hand, granted me a release from my duties as Director until I
could complete it; and to Professor John Robinson, Treasurer of
the Academy, and Mr. T. F. Hunt, for friendly suggestions and
helpful interest, as also to Mr. Percival Lowell for numerous
courtesies,—my thanks are due. I must not forget to record here
my indebtedness to Mr. A. W. Stevens, chief proof-reader of the
University Press, for his invaluable assistance in the literary part
of my labors, and for his faithful scrutiny of the proof-sheets.
At the same time I desire to thank Miss Margarette W. Brooks
for much aid given to me in my work; my daughter, Miss Edith
O. Morse, for the preliminary tracings of the drawings from my
journals; Mr. L. S. Ipsen, who drew the unique and beautiful
design for the cover of this book; Mr. A. V. S. Anthony for
judicious supervision of the process-work in the illustrations; the
University Press for its excellent workmanship in the printing of
the book; and the Publishers for the generous manner in which
they have supported the undertaking. I will only add, that the
excellent Index to be found at the end of this book was prepared
by Mr. Charles H. Stevens.
EDWARD S. MORSE.
Salem, Mass., U. S. A.
November, 1885.
INTRODUCTION
Within twenty years there has gradually appeared in our country
a variety of Japanese objects conspicuous for their novelty and
beauty,—lacquers, pottery and porcelain, forms in wood and
metal, curious shaped boxes, quaint ivory carvings, fabrics in
cloth and paper, and a number of other objects as perplexing in
their purpose as the inscriptions which they often bore. Most
of these presented technicalities in their work as enigmatical
as were their designs, strange caprices in their ornamentation
which, though violating our hitherto recognized proprieties of
decoration, surprised and yet delighted us. The utility of many
of the objects we were at loss to understand; yet somehow they
gradually found lodgment in our rooms, even displacing certain
other objects which we had been wont to regard as decorative,
and our rooms looked all the prettier for their substitution. We
found it difficult to formulate the principles upon which such art
was based, and yet were compelled to recognize its merit. Vio-
lations of perspective, and colors in juxtaposition or coalescing
that before we had regarded as inharmonious, were continually
reminding us of Japan and her curious people. Slowly our meth-
ods of decoration became imbued with these ways so new to us,
and yet so many centuries old to the people among whom these
arts had originated. Gradually yet surely, these arts, at first so
little understood, modified our own methods of ornamentation, [xxvi]
until frescos wall-papers, wood-work and carpets, dishes and ta-
ble-cloth metal work and book-covers, Christmas cards and even
railroad advertisements were decorated, modelled, and designed
after Japanese style.
It was not to be wondered at that many of our best artists,—men
like Coleman, Vedder, Lafarge, and others,—had long fore rec-
 xxiv Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

ognized the transcendent merit of Japanese decorative art. It was

however somewhat remarkable that the public at large should
come so universally to recognize it, and in so short a time. Not
only our own commercial nation, but art-loving France, musical
Germany, and even conservative England yielded to this inva-
sion. Not that new designs were evolved by us; on the contrary,
we were content to adopt Japanese designs outright, oftentimes
with a mixture of incongruities that would have driven Japanese
decorator stark mad. Designs appropriate for the metal mounting
of a sword blazed out on our ceilings; motives fror a heavy
bronze formed the theme for the decoration of friable pottery;
and suggestions from light crape were woven into hot carpets
to be trodden upon. Even with this mongrel admixture, it was
a relief by any means to have driven out of our dwelling the
nightmares and horrors of design we had before endured so
meekly,—such objects, for example, as a child in dead brass,
kneeling in perpetual supplication on a dead brass cushion, while
adroitly balancing on its head a receptacle for kerosene oil; and a
whole regiment of shapes equally monstrous. Our walls no longer
assailed us with designs that wearied our eyes and exasperated
our brains by their inanities. We were no longer doomed to wipe
our feet on cupids, horns of plenty, restless tigers, or scrolls of
architectural magnitudes. Under the benign influence of this new
spirit it came to be realized that it was not always necessary to
tear a flower in bits to recognize its decorative value; and that
[xxvii] the simplest objects in Nature—a spray of bamboo, a pine cone,
a cherry blossom—in the right place were quite sufficient to
satisfy our craving for the beautiful.
The Japanese exhibit at the Centennial exposition in Philadel-
phia came to us as a new revelation; and the charming onslaught
of that unrivalled display completed the victory. It was then that
the Japanese craze took firm hold of us. Books on Japan rapidly
multiplied, especially books on decorative art; but it was found
that such rare art could be properly represented only in the most
INTRODUCTION xxv

costly fashion, and with plates of marvellous elaboration. What

the Japanese were able to do with their primitive methods of
block-printing and a few colors, required the highest genius of
our artists and chromo-lithographers; and even then the subtile
spirit which the artist sought for could not be caught.
The more intelligent among our collectors soon recognized that
the objects from Japan divided themselves into two groups,—the
one represented by a few objects having great intrinsic merit,
with a refinement and reserve of decoration; the other group,
characterized by a more florid display and less delicacy of treat-
ment, forming by far the larger number, consisting chiefly of
forms in pottery, porcelain, lacquer and metal work. These last
were made by the Japanese expressly for the foreign market,
many of them having no place in their economy, and with few
exceptions being altogether too gaudy and violent to suit the
Japanese taste. Our country became flooded with them; even the
village grocery displayed them side by side with articles manu-
factured at home for the same class of customers, and equally
out of place in the greater marts of the country. To us, however,
these objects were always pretty, and were moreover so much
cheaper, with all their high duties and importer's profits, than
the stuff to which we had been accustomed, that they helped us
out amazingly at every recurring Christmas. Of the better class
of objects, nearly all of them were originally intended either for [xxviii]
personal use or adornment,—such as clasps, little ivory carvings,
sectional lacquer-boxes, fans, etc.; or mere objects of household
use, such as hanging flower-holders, bronze and pottery vases,
incense burners, lacquer cabinets, dishes, etc.
Naturally great curiosity was awakened to know more about
the social life of this remarkable people; and particularly was
it desirable to know the nature of the house that sheltered such
singular and beautiful works of art. In response to the popular
demand, book after book appeared; but with some noteworth
exceptions they repeated the same information, usually prefaced
 xxvi Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

by an account of the more than special privileges accorded to

their authors by the Japanese government, followed by history
of the Japanese empire from its first emperor down the present
time,—apparently concise enough, but interminable with its
mythologies, wars, decays, restorations, etc. Then we had the
record of an itinerary of a few weeks at some treaty port, or of
a brief sojourn in the country, where, to illustrate the bravery of
the author, imaginary dangers were conjured up; a wild guess at
the ethnical enigma, erroneous conceptions of Japanese character
and customs,—the whole illustrated by sketches derived from
previous works on the same subject, or from Japanese sources,
often without due credit being given; and finally we were given a
forecast of the future of Japan, with an account of the progress its
public were making in adopting outside customs, with no warning
of the acts of hara-kiri their arts would be compelled to perform
in the presence of so many influences alien to their nature. As an
illustration of this, could the force of absurdity go further than
the attempt to introduce the Italian school of painting,—and this
in the land of a Kano; or the melancholy act of a foreign employé
of one of the colleges in Tokio, in inducing or compelling all
its pupils to wear hot woollen Scotch caps,—converting a lot of
[xxix] handsome dark-haired boys, with graceful and picturesque dress,
into a mob of ridiculous monkeys?
In these books on Japan we look in vain for any but the most
general description of what a Japanese home really is; even
Rein's work, so apparently monographic, dismisses the house
and garden in a few pages.2 The present work is an attempt to fill
2
It may be well to state here that most of the good and reliable contributions
upon Japan are to be found in the Transactions of the English and German
Asiatic Societies published in Yokohama; also in the pages of the Japan “Mail,”
in the now extinct Tokio “Times,” and in a most excellent but now defunct
magazine called the “Chrysanthemum,” whose circulation becoming vitiated
by the theological sap in its tissues, finally broke down altogether from the
dead weight of its dogmatic leaves.
Among the many valuable papers published in these Transactions of the
INTRODUCTION xxvii

this deficiency, by describing not only the variety of dwellings

seen in Japan, but by specializing more in detail the variety of
structure seen within the building.
In the following pages occasion has often led to criticism and
comparison. Aside from any question of justice, it would seem
as if criticism, to be of any value, should be comparative; that
is to say, in any running commentary on Japanese ways and
conditions the parallel ways and conditions of one's own people
should be as frankly pointed out, or at least recognized. When
one enters your city,—which is fairly clean and tidy—complains [xxx]
of its filthy streets, the assumption is that the streets of his own
city are clean; and when these are found to dirty beyond measure,
the value of the complaint or criticism is at once lost, and the
author immediately set down as a wilful maligner. Either we
should follow the dictum of the great moral Teacher, and hesitate
to behold the mote in others' eyes or else in so doing we should

Asiatic Society of Japan, is one by Thomas R. H. McClatchie, Esq., on “The

Feudal Mansions of Yedo,” vol. vii. part iii. p. 157, which gives many
important facts concerning a class of buildings that is rapidly disappearing, and
to which only the slightest allusion has been made in the present work. The
reader is also referred to a Paper in the same publication by George Cawley,
Esq., entitled “Some Remarks on Constructions in Brick and Wood, and their
Relative Suitability for Japan,” vol. vi. part ii. p. 291; and also to a Paper by
R. H. Brunton, Esq., on “Constructive Art in Japan,” vol. ii. p. 64; vol. iii. part
ii. p. 20.
Professor Huxley has said in one of his lectures, that if all the books in the
world were destroyed, with the exception of the Philosophical Transactions, “it
is safe to say that the foundations of Physical Science would remain unshaken,
and that the vast intellectual progress of the last two centuries would be largely
though incompletely recorded.” In a similar way it might almost be said of the
Japan “Mail,” that if all the books which have been written by foreigners upon
Japan were destroyed, and files of the Japan “Mail” alone preserved, we should
possess about all of value that has been recorded by foreigners concerning
that country. This journal not only includes the scholarly productions of its
editor, Capt. F. Brinkley, as well as an immense mass of material from its
correspondents, but has also published the Transactions of the Asiatic Society
of Japan in advance ot the Society's own publications.
 xxviii Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

consider the beam in our own.

This duty, however, even to fair and unprejudiced minds,
becomes a matter of great difficulty. It is extraordinary how
blind one may be to the faults and crimes of his own people,
and how reluctant to admit them. We sing heroic soldier-songs
with energy and enthusiasm, and are amazed to find numbers in
a Japanese audience disapproving, because of the bloody deeds
celebrated in such an exultant way. We read daily our papers
the details of the most blood-curdling crimes, and often of the
most abhorrent and unnatural ones; and yet we make no special
reflections on the conditions of society where such things are
possible, or put ourselves much out of the way to arouse the
people to a due sense of the degradation and stain on the com-
munity at large because of such things. But we go to another
country and perhaps find a new species of vice; its novelty at
once arrests our attention, and forthwith we howl at the enormity
of the crime and the degradation of the nation in which such a
crime could originate, send home the most exaggerated accounts,
malign the people without stint, and then prate to them about
Christian charity!
In the study of another people one should if possible look
through colorless glasses; though if one is to err in this respect,
it were better that his spectacles should be rose-colored than
grimed with the smoke of prejudice. The student of Ethnology
as a matter of policy, if he can put himself in no more generous
[xxxi] attitude, had better err in looking kindly and favorably at a peo-
ple whose habits and customs he is about to study. It is human
nature the world over to resist adverse criticism; and when one
is prowling about with his eyes darkened by the opaquest of un-
corrected provincial glasses, he is repelled on all sides; nothing
is accessible to him; he can rarely get more than a superficial
glance at matters. Whereas, if he tries honestly to seek out the
better attributes of a people, he is only too welcome to proceed
with any investigation he wishes to make; even customs and
INTRODUCTION xxix

ways that appear offensive are freely revealed to him, knowing

that he will not wilfully distort and render more painful what is
at the outset admitted on all hands to be bad.
We repeat that such investigation must be approached in a
spirit of sympathy, otherwise much is lost or misunderstood.
This is not only true as to social customs, but also as to studies in
other lines of research as well. Professor Fenollosa, the greatest
authority on Japanese pictorial art, says most truthfully that “it is
not enough to approach these delicate children of the spirit with
the eye of mere curiosity, or the cold rigid standard of an alien
school. One's heart must be large enough to learn to love, as
the Japanese artist loves, before the veil can be lifted to the full
splendor of their hidden beauties.”
In this spirit I have endeavored to give an account of Japanese
homes and their surroundings. I might have dealt only with the
huts of the poorest, with the squalor of their inmates, and given a
meagre picture of Japanese life; or a study might have been made
of the homes of the wealthy exclusively, which would have been
equally one-sided. It seemed to me, however, that a description
of the homes of the middle classes, with occasional reference
to those of the higher and lower types, would perhaps give a
fairer picture of the character and structure of Japanese homes
and houses, than had I pursued either of the other courses. I may
have erred in looking through spectacles tinted with rose; but if [xxxii]
so, I have no apology to make. Living for some time among a
people with whom I have had only the most friendly relations,
and to whom I still owe a thousand debts of gratitude, it would be
only a contemptible and jaundiced temperament that could under
such circumstances write otherwise than kindly, or fail to make
generous allowance for what appear to others as grave faults and
omissions.
In regard to Japanese houses, there are many features not to my
liking; and in the ordinary language of travellers I might speak
of these houses as huts and hovels, cold and cheerless, etc., and
 xxx Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

give such a generic description of them as would include under

one category all the houses on the Pacific coast from Kamtchatka
to Java. Faults these houses have; and in criticising them I have
endeavored to make my reflections comparative; and I have held
up for comparison much that is objectionable in our own houses,
as well as the work done by our own artisans. But judging from
the rage and disgust expressed in certain English publications,
where one writer speaks of “much of the work for wage as
positively despicable,” and another of the miseries entailed by
the unscientific builder, my comparison may legitimately extend
to England also.3
In the present volume the attempt has been made to describe
the Japanese house and its immediate surroundings in general
and in detail. No one realizes better than the author the mea-
greness in certain portions of this work. It is believed, however,
that with the many illustrations, and the classification of the
subject-matter, much will be made clear that before was vague.
[xxxiii] The figures are in every case fac-similes by one of the relief
processes of the author's pen-and-ink drawings, and with few
exceptions are from his own sketches made on the spot; so that
whatever they lack in artistic merit, they make up in being more
or less accurate drawings of the objects and features depicted.
The material has been gleaned from an illustrated daily journal,
kept by the author during three successive residences in that
delightful country, embracing travels by land from the northwest
coast of Yezo to the southernmost parts of Satsuma.
The openness and accessibility of the Japanese house are a
distinguishing feature of Japan; and no foreigner visits that coun-
3
Still another English writer says: “It is unpleasant to live within ugly walls;
it is still more unpleasant to live within unstable walls: but to be obliged to
live in a tenement which is both unstable and ugly is disagreeable in a tenfold
degree.” He thinks it is quite time to evoke legislation to remedy these evils,
and says: “An Englishman's house was formerly said to be his castle; but in the
hands of the speculating builder and advertising tradesman, we may be grateful
that it does not oftener become his tomb.”
INTRODUCTION xxxi

try without bringing away delightful memories of the peculiarly

characteristic dwellings of the Japanese. On the occasion of the
author's last visit to Japan he also visited China, Anam, Singa-
pore, and Java, and made studies of the houses of these various
countries, with special reference to the Japanese house and its
possible affinities elsewhere.
CHAPTER I.

THE HOUSE.
[1]
A BIRD'S-EYE view of a large city in Japan presents an ap-
pearance quite unlike that presented by any large assemblage of
buildings at home. A view of Tokio, for example, from some
elevated point reveals a vast sea of roofs,—the gray of the shin-
gles and dark slate-color of the tiles, with dull reflections from
their surfaces, giving a sombre effect to the whole. The even
expanse is broken here and there by the fire-proof buildings, with
their ponderous tiled roofs and ridges and pure white or jet-black
walls. These, though in color adding to the sombre appearance,
form, with the exception of the temples, one of the most conspic-
uous features in the general monotony. The temples are indeed
conspicuous, as they tower far above the pigmy dwellings which
surround them. Their great black roofs, with massive ridges and
ribs, and grand sweeps and white or red gables, render them
striking objects from whatever point they are viewed. Green
masses of tree-foliage springing from the numerous gardens add [2]
some life to this gray sea of domiciles.
It is a curious sight to look over a vast city of nearly a million
inhabitants, and detect no chimney with its home-like streak of
blue smoke. There is of course no church spire, with its usual
architectural inanities. With the absence of chimneys and the
almost universal use of charcoal for heating purposes, the cities
have an atmosphere of remarkable clearness and purity; so clear,
indeed, is the atmosphere that one may look over the city and see
distinctly revealed the minuter details of the landscape beyond.
 2 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

The great sun-obscuring canopy of smoke and fumes that forever

shroud some of our great cities is a feature happily unknown in
Japan.
Having got such a bird's-eye view of one city, we have seen
them all,—the minor variations consisting, for the most part, in
the inequalities of the sites upon which they rest. A view of
Kioto, for example, as seen from some high point, is remarkably
beautiful and varied, as the houses creep out between the hills
that hem it in. In Nagasaki the houses literally rise in tiers from
the water's edge to the hills immediately back, there to become
blended with the city of the dead which caps their summits. A
view of Nagasaki from the harbor is one of surpassing interest
and beauty. Other large cities, such as Sendai, Osaka, Hiroshima,
and Nagoya present the same uniform level of roofs.
The compact way in which in the cities and towns the houses
are crowded together, barely separated by the narrow streets
and lanes which cross like threads in every direction, and the
peculiarly inflammable material of which most of the buildings
are composed, explain the lightning-like rapidity with which a
conflagration spreads when once fairly under way.
In the smaller villages the houses are stretched along the
[3] sides of a single road, nearly all being arranged in this way,

Fig. 1.—View in Tokio, showing shops and houses. (Copied

from a Photograph).

[4] sometimes extending for a mile or more. Rarely ever does one
see a cross street or lane, or evidences of compactness, save that
CHAPTER I. 3

Fig. 2.—View in Tokio, showing temples and gardens. (Copied

from a Photograph).

near the centre of this long street the houses and shops often abut,
while those at the end of the streets have ample space between
them. Some villages, which from their situation have no chance
of expanding, become densely crowded: such for example is
the case of Enoshima, near Yokohama, wherein the main street
runs directly from the shore, by means of a series of steps at
intervals, to a flight of stone steps, which lead to the temples
and shrines at the summit of the island. This street is flanked on
both sides by hills; and the ravine, of which the street forms the
central axis, is densely crowded with houses, the narrowest of
alley-ways leading to the houses in the rear. A fire once started
would inevitably result in the destruction of every house in the
village.
It is a curious fact that one may ride long distances in the
country without passing a single dwelling, and then abruptly en-
ter a village. The entrance to a village is often marked by a high
mound of earth on each side of the road, generally surmounted
by a tree; or perhaps the evidences of an old barrier are seen in
the remains of gate-posts or a stone-wall. Having passed through
the village one enters the country again, with its rice-fields and
cultivated tracts, as abruptly as he had left it. The villages
vary greatly in their appearance: some are extremely trim and
pretty, with neat flower-plats in front of the houses, and an air
of taste and comfort everywhere apparent; other villages present
marked evidences of poverty, squalid houses with dirty children
swarming about them. Indeed, the most striking contrasts are
 4 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

seen between the various villages one passes through in a long

overland trip in Japan.
It is difficult to imagine a more dreary and dismal sight than
the appearance of some of these village streets on a rainy night.
[5] No brightly-lighted window cheers the traveller; only lines of
light glimmer through the chinks of the wooden shutters with
which every house is closed at night. On pleasant evenings when
the paper screens alone are closed, a ride through a village street
is often rendered highly amusing by the grotesque shadow-pic-
tures which the inmates are unconsciously projecting in their
movements to and fro.

Fig. 3.—View of Enoshima (Copied from a Photograph).

In the cities the quarters for the wealthier classes are not so
sharply defined as with us, though the love for pleasant outlooks
and beautiful scenery tends to enhance the value of certain dis-
tricts, and consequently to bring together the wealthier classes.
In nearly all the cities, however, you will find the houses of
the wealthy in the immediate vicinity of the habitations of the
[6] poorest. In Tokio one may find streets, or narrow alleys, lined
with a continuous row of the cheapest shelters; and here dwell
the poorest people. Though squalid and dirty as such places
CHAPTER I. 5

appear to the Japanese, they are immaculate in comparison with

the unutterable filth and misery of similar quarters in nearly all
the great cities of Christendom. Certainly a rich man in Japan
would not, as a general thing, buy up the land about his house
to keep the poorer classes at a distance, for the reason that their
presence would not be objectionable, since poverty in Japan is
not associated with the impossible manners of a similar class at
home.
Before proceeding with a special description of Japanese
homes, a general description of the house may render the chap-
ters that are to follow a little more intelligible.
The first sight of a Japanese house,—that is, a house of the
people,—is certainly disappointing. From the infinite variety and
charming character of their various works of art, as we had seen
them at home, we were anticipating new delights and surprises
in the character of the house; nor were we on more intimate
acquaintance to be disappointed. As an American familiar with
houses of certain types, with conditions among them signifying
poverty and shiftlessness, and other conditions signifying refine-
ment and wealth, I was not competent to judge the relative merits
of a Japanese house.
The first sight, then, of a Japanese house is disappointing; it is
unsubstantial in appearance, and there is a meagreness of color.
Being unpainted, it suggests poverty; and this absence of paint,
with the gray and often rain-stained color of the boards, leads one
to compare it with similar unpainted buildings at home,—and
these are usually barns and sheds in the country, and the houses
of the poorer people in the city. With one's eye accustomed
to the bright contrasts of American houses with their white,
or light, painted surfaces; rectangular windows, black from the [7]
shadows within, with glints of light reflected from the glass; front
door with its pretentious steps and portico; warm red chimneys
surmounting all, and a general trimness of appearance outside,
which is by no means always correlated with like conditions
 6 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

within,—one is too apt at the outset to form a low estimate of a

Japanese house. An American finds it difficult indeed to consider
such a structure as a dwelling, when so many features are absent
that go to make up a dwelling at home,—no doors or windows
such as he had been familiar with; no attic or cellar; no chimneys,
and within no fire-place, and of course no customary mantle; no
permanently enclosed rooms; and as for furniture, no beds or
tables, chairs or similar articles,—at least, so it appears at first
sight.
One of the chief points of difference in a Japanese house as
compared with ours lies in the treatment of partitions and outside
walls. In our houses these are solid and permanent; and when
the frame is built, the partitions form part of the framework. In
the Japanese house, on the contrary, there are two or more sides
that have no permanent walls. Within, also, there are but few
partitions which have similar stability; in their stead are slight
sliding screens which run in appropriate grooves in the floor and
overhead. These grooves mark the limit of each room. The
screens may be opened by sliding them back, or they may be
entirely removed, thus throwing a number of rooms into one
great apartment. In the same way the whole side of a house may
be flung open to sunlight and air. For communication between
the rooms, therefore, swinging doors are not necessary. As a
substitute for windows, the outside screens, or shMji, are covered
with white paper, allowing the light to be diffused through the
house.
Where external walls appear they are of wood unpainted, or
painted black; and if of plaster, white or dark slate colored. In
certain classes of buildings the outside wall, to a height of several
[8] feet from the ground, and sometimes even the entire wall, may be
tiled, the interspaces being pointed with white plaster. The roof
may be either lightly shingled, heavily tiled, or thickly thatched.
It has a moderate pitch, and as a general thing the slope is not
so steep as in our roofs. Nearly all the houses have a verandah,
CHAPTER I. 7

which is protected by the widely-overhanging eaves of the roof,

or by a light supplementary roof projecting from beneath the
eaves.
While most houses of the better class have a definite porch and
vestibule, or genka, in houses of the poorer class this entrance
is not separate from the living room; and since the interior of
the house is accessible from two or three sides, one may enter it
from any point. The floor is raised a foot and a half or more from
the ground, and is covered with thick straw mats, rectangular in
shape, of uniform size, with sharp square edges, and so closely
fitted that the floor upon which they rest is completely hidden.
The rooms are either square or rectangular, and are made with
absolute reference to the number of mats they are to contain.
With the exception of the guest-room few rooms have projections
or bays. In the guest-room there is at one side a more or less
deep recess divided into two bays by a slight partition; the one
nearest the verandah is called the tokonoma. In this place hang
one or more pictures, and upon its floor, which is slightly raised
above the mats, rests a flower vase, incense burner, or some other
object. The companion bay has shelves and a low closet. Other
rooms also may have recesses to accommodate a case of drawers
or shelves. Where closets and cupboards occur, they are finished
with sliding screens instead of swinging doors. In tea-houses of
two stories the stairs, which often ascend from the vicinity of the
kitchen, have beneath them a closet; and this is usually closed by
a swinging door.
The privy is at one corner of the house, at the end of the
verandah; sometimes there are two at diagonal corners of the
house. In the poorer class of country houses the privy is an [9]
isolated building with low swinging door, the upper half of the
door-space being open.
In city houses the kitchen is at one side or corner of the house;
generally in an L, covered with a pent roof. This apartment is
often towards the street, its yard separated from other areas by
 8 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

a high fence. In the country the kitchen is nearly always under

the main roof. In the city few out-buildings such as sheds and
barns are seen. Accompanying the houses of the better class
are solid, thick-walled, one or two storied, fire-proof buildings
called kura, in which the goods and chattels are stored away at
the time of a conflagration. These buildings, which are known
to the foreigners as “godowns,” have one or two small windows
and one door, closed by thick and ponderous shutters. Such a
building usually stands isolated from the dwelling, though often
in juxtaposition; and sometimes, though rarely, it is used as a
domicile.
In the gardens of the better classes summer-houses and shel-
ters of rustic appearance and diminutive proportions are often
seen. Rustic arbors are also to be seen in the larger gardens.
Specially constructed houses of quaint design and small size are
not uncommon; in these the ceremonial tea-parties take place.
High fences, either of board or bamboo, or solid walls of mud or
tile with stone foundations, surround the house or enclose it from
the street. Low rustic fences border the gardens in the suburbs.
Gateways of various styles, some of imposing design, form the
entrances; as a general thing they are either rustic and light, or
formal and massive.
Whatever is commonplace in the appearance of the house is
towards the street, while the artistic and picturesque face is turned
towards the garden, which may be at one side or in the rear of the
house,—usually in the rear. Within these plain and unpretentious
houses there are often to be seen marvels of exquisite carving,
[10] and the perfection of cabinet work; and surprise follows surprise,
as one becomes more fully acquainted with the interior finish of
these curious and remarkable dwellings.
In the sections which are to follow, an attempt will be made
by description and sketches to convey some idea of the details
connected with the structure and inside finish of the Japanese
house.
CHAPTER I. 9

There is no object in Japan that seems to excite more diverse

and adverse criticism among foreigners than does the Japanese
house; it is a constant source of perplexity and annoyance to
most of them. An Englishman particularly, whom Emerson says
he finds “to be him of all men who stands firmest in his shoes,”
recognizes but little merit in the apparently frail and perishable
nature of these structures. He naturally dislikes the anomaly of
a house of the lightest description oftentimes sustaining a roof
of the most ponderous character, and fairly loathes a structure
that has no king-post, or at least a queen-post, truss; while the
glaring absurdity of a house that persists in remaining upright
without a foundation, or at least without his kind of a foundation,
makes him furious. The mistake made by most writers in criti-
cising Japanese house-structure, and indeed many other matters
connected with that country, is that these writers do not regard
such matters from a Japanese stand-point. They do not consider
that the nation is poor, and that the masses are in poverty; nor do
they consider that for this reason a Japanese builds such a house
as he can afford, and one that after all is as thoroughly adapted
to his habits and wants as ours is to our habits and wants.
The observation of a Japanese has shown him that from
generation to generation the houses of his people have man-
aged to sustain themselves; and if in his travels abroad he has
chanced to visit England, he will probably recall the fact that
he saw more dilapidated tenements, tumble-down shanties, bro- [11]
ken-backed farm-houses, cracked walls, and toppling fences in a
single day in that virtuous country where there are no typhoons
or earthquakes, than he would see in a year's travel in his own
country.
When one of these foreign critical writers contemplates the
framework of a Japanese house, and particularly the cross-beams
of the roof, and finds no attempt at trussing and bracing, he
is seized with an eager desire to go among these people as a
missionary of trusses and braces,—it is so obvious that much
 10 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

wood might be saved! In regard to the Japanese house-frame,

however, it is probable that the extra labor of constructing braces
and trusses would not compensate for the difference saved in the
wood.
Rein, in his really admirable book on Japan, says “the Japanese
house lacks chiefly solidity and comfort.” If he means comfort
for himself and his people, one can understand him; if he means
comfort for the Japanese, then he has not the faintest conception
of the solid comfort a Japanese gets out of his house. Rein also
complains of the evil odors of the closet arrangements, though his
complaints refer more particularly to the crowded inns, which are
often in an exceedingly filthy condition as regards these neces-
sary conveniences,—and one is led to inquire what the Japanese
would think of similar features in Germany, where in the larger
cities the closet may be seen opening directly into the front hall,
and in some cases even from the dining-room! Bad as some of
these conditions are in Japan, they are mild in comparison with
like features in Germany. The filthy state of the larger cities,
in this respect, may be indicated by the fact that the death-rate
of Munich a few years ago was forty-four, and Kaulbach died
of cholera in that city in mid-winter! Indeed, the presence of
certain features in every bed-chamber at home and abroad are
looked upon as surpassingly filthy by every Japanese,—as they
[12] truly are.
Rein and other writers speak of the want of privacy in Japanese
dwellings, forgetting that privacy is only necessary in the midst
of vulgar and impertinent people,—a class of which Japan has
the minimum, and the so-called civilized races—the English and
American particularly—have the maximum.
For my part, I find much to admire in a Japanese house, and
some things not to my comfort. The sitting posture on the floor is
painful until one gets accustomed to it; and, naturally, I find that
our chairs are painful to the Japanese, until they become accus-
tomed to them. I found the Japanese house in winter extremely
CHAPTER I. 11

cold and uncomfortable; but I question whether their cold rooms

in winter are not more conducive to health than are our apart-
ments with our blistering stoves, hot furnaces or steam-heaters;
and as to the odors arising from the closet in certain country
inns, who does not recall similar offensive features in many of
our country inns at home, with the addition of slovenly yards
and reeking piggeries? I question, too, whether these odors are
more injurious to the health than is the stifling air from a damp
and noisome cellar, which not only filters through our floors, but
is often served to us hot through scorching furnaces. Whittier's
description of the country house,—

The best room

Stifling with cellar-damp, shut from the air
In hot midsummer,—

is only too true of many of our American houses both in the

country and city.
Whether the Japanese house is right or wrong in its plan and
construction, it answers admirably the purposes for which it was
intended. A fire-proof building is certainly beyond the means of
a majority of this people, as, indeed, it is with us; and not being
able to build such a dwelling, they have from necessity gone to
the other extreme, and built a house whose very structure enables
it to be rapidly demolished in the path of a conflagration. Mats, [13]
screen-partitions, and even the board ceilings can be quickly
packed up and carried away. The roof is rapidly denuded of its
tiles and boards, and the skeleton framework left makes but slow
fuel for the flames. The efforts of the firemen in checking the
progress of a conflagration consist mainly in tearing down these
adjustable structures; and in this connection it may be interesting
to record the curious fact that oftentimes at a fire the streams are
turned, not upon the flames, but upon the men engaged in tearing
down the building!
 12 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

The improvements, however, that are imperatively demanded

in Japanese house-structure are such modifications as shall render
the building less inflammable. While these inflammable houses
may be well enough in the suburbs or in country villages, they
are certainly quite out of place in cities; and here, indeed, the
authorities are justified in imposing such restrictions as shall not
bear too heavily upon the people.
The Japanese should clearly understand that insuperable diffi-
culties are to be encountered in any attempt to modify their style
of dwellings, and that many of such proposed modifications are
neither judicious nor desirable. That slight changes for safety
may be effected, however, there can be no doubt. Through the
agency of science, means may be found by which outside wood-
work may be rendered less inflammable,—either by fire-proof
paint or other devices.
The mean path of Tokio conflagrations has been ingeniously
worked out by Professor Yamakawa, from data extending back
two hundred years; and in this path certain areas might be left
open with advantage. Fire-proof blocks in foreign style, such as
now exist on the Ginza, may be ultimately constructed in this
path. Since the last great conflagration, the Tokio authorities
have specified certain districts within which shingled roofs shall
not be made; and where such roofs existed, the authorities have
compelled the substitution of tin, zinc, or tiled roofs. Above all,
[14] let there be a reorganization, under Government, of the present
corrupt fire-brigades. Such changes will certainly lead to good
results; but as to altering the present plan of house-building and
present modes of living, it is not only impracticable but well-nigh
impossible. If such changes are effected, then will perish many
of the best features of true Japanese art, which has been the
surprise and admiration of Western nations, and of which in the
past they have been the unwitting cause of the modification and
degradation it has already undergone.
The frame-work of an ordinary Japanese dwelling is simple
CHAPTER I. 13

Fig. 4.—Side Framing.

and primitive in structure; it consists of a number of upright

beams which run from the ground to the transverse beams and
inclines of the roof above. The vertical framing is held together
either by short strips which are let in to appropriate notches in
the uprights to which the bamboo lathing is fixed, or by longer [15]
strips of wood which pass through mortises in the uprights and
are firmly keyed or pinned into place (fig. 4). In larger houses
these uprights are held in position by a frame-work near the
ground. There is no cellar or excavation beneath the house, nor is
there a continuous stone foundation as with us. The uprights rest
directly, and without attachment, upon single uncut or rough-
hewn stones, these in turn resting upon others which have been
solidly pounded into the earth by means of a huge wooden maul
worked by a number of men (fig. 5). In this way the house
is perched upon these stones, with the floor elevated at least a
foot and a half or two feet above the ground. In some cases the
space between the uprights is boarded up; this is generally seen
in Kioto houses. In others the wind has free play beneath; and
while this exposed condition renders the house much colder and
more uncomfortable in winter, the inmates are never troubled by
the noisome air of the cellar, which, as we have said, too often
 14 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

[16] infects our houses at home. Closed wooden fences of a more

solid character are elevated in this way; that is, the lower rail or
sill of the fence rests directly upon stones placed at intervals apart
of six or eight feet. The ravages of numerous ground-insects,
as well as larvae, and the excessive dampness of the ground
at certain seasons of the year, render this method of building a
necessity.

Fig 5.—Pounding Down Foundation Stones.

The accurate way in which the base of the uprights is wrought

to fit the inequalities of the stones upon which they rest, is worthy
of notice. In the Emperor's garden we saw a two-storied house
finished in the most simple and exquisite manner. It was, indeed,
like a beautiful cabinet, though disfigured by a bright-colored
foreign carpet on its lower floor. The uprights of this structure
rested on large oval beach-worn stones buried endwise in the
ground; and upon the smooth rounded portions of the stones,
which projected above the level of the ground to a height of
ten inches or more, the uprights had been most accurately fitted
(fig. 6). The effect was extremely light and buoyant, though
apparently insecure to the last degree; yet this building had not
only withstood a number of earthquake shocks, but also the strain
of severe typhoons, which during the summer months sweep over
Japan with such violence. If the building be very small, then
CHAPTER I. 15

the frame consists of four corner-posts running to the roof. In

dwellings having a frontage of two or more rooms, other uprights
occur between the corner-posts. As the rooms increase in number [17]
through the house, uprights come in the corners of the rooms,
against which the sliding-screens, or fusuma, abut. The passage
of these uprights through the room to the roof above gives a
solid constructive appearance to the house. When a house has a
verandah,—and nearly every house possesses this feature on one
or more of its sides,—another row of uprights starts in a line with
the outer edge of the verandah. Unless the verandah be very long,
an upright at each end is sufficient to support the supplementary
roof which shelters it. These uprights support a crossbeam, upon
which the slight rafters of the supplementary roof rest.

Fig. 6.—Foundation Stones.

This cross-beam is often a straight unhewn stick of timber

from which the bark has been removed (fig. 49). Indeed, most of
the horizontal framing-timbers, as well as the rafters, are usually [18]
unhewn,—the rafters often having the bark on, or perhaps being
accurately squared sticks; but in either case they are always
visible as they project from the sides of the house, and run out to
support the overhanging eaves. The larger beams and girders are
but slightly hewn; and it is not unusual to see irregular-shaped
beams worked into the construction of a frame, often for their
 16 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 7.—Section of Framing.

Fig. 8.—Framing.

quaint effects (fig. 7), and in many cases as a matter of economy

(fig. 39).
For a narrow house, if the roof be a gable, a central upright
at each end of the building gives support to the ridge-pole from
which the rafters run to the eaves (fig. 8). If the building be wide,
a transverse beam traverses the end of the building on a level with
the eaves, supported at intervals by uprights from the ground;
[19] and upon this short uprights rest, supporting another transverse
beam above, and often three or more tiers are carried nearly to
the ridge. Upon these supports rest the horizontal beams which
run parallel with the ridge-pole, and which are intended to give
support to the rafters (fig. 9).
In the case of a wide gable-roof there are many ways to support
the frame, one of which is illustrated in the following outline
(fig. 10). Here a stout stick of timber runs from one end of the
house to the other on a vertical line with the ridge-pole, and on
a level with the eaves. This stick is always crowning, in order
CHAPTER I. 17

Fig. 9.—End-framing of Large Building.

to give additional strength. A few thick uprights start from this

to support the ridge-pole above; from these uprights beams run
to the eaves; these are mortised into the uprights, but at different
levels on either side in order not to weaken the uprights by the
mortises. From these beams run short supports to the horizontal
rafters above.

Fig 10.—Roof-frame of Large Building.

The roof, if it be of tile or thatch, represents a massive

weight,—the tiles being thick and quite heavy, and always bed-
ded in a thick layer of mud. The thatch, though not so heavy,
often becomes so after a long rain. The roof-framing conse-
quently has oftentimes to support a great weight; and though in
its structure looking weak, or at least primitive in design, yet
experience must have taught the Japanese carpenter that their
 18 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

methods were not only the simplest and most economical, but
[20] that they answered all requirements. One is amazed to see how
many firemen can gather upon such a roof without its yielding.
I have seen massive house-roofs over two hundred years old,
and other frame structures of a larger size and of far greater age,
which presented no visible signs of weakness. Indeed, it is a very
unusual sight to see a broken-backed roof in Japan.
The beams that support the roofs of the fire-proof buildings,
or kura, are usually rough-hewn and of ponderous dimensions.
It would seem that here, at least, the foreign method of trussing
might be an economy of material, besides giving much greater
strength; and yet the expense of reducing these beams to proper
dimensions, in the absence of saw-mills and other labor-saving
machinery, with the added expense of iron rods, bolts, etc., would
more than counterbalance the saving of material (fig. 11). In
Fig. 11 is shown the universal method of roof support; namely,
horizontal beams resting upon perpendicular walls, these in turn
supporting vertical beams, which again give support to horizon-
tal beams. That the Japanese have been familiar with the arch
is seen in some of their old stone bridges; but they seem as
[21] averse to using this principle in their house-architecture as were
the Egyptians and Hindus. Fergusson, in his illustrated Hand-
book of Architecture, page xxxv, says: “So convinced were the
Egyptians and Greeks of this principle, that they never used any
other construction-expedient than a perpendicular wall or prop,
supporting a horizontal beam; and half the satisfactory effect of
their buildings arises from their adhering to this simple though
expensive mode of construction. They were perfectly acquainted
with the use of the arch and its properties, but they knew that
its employment would introduce complexity and confusion into
their designs, and therefore they wisely rejected it. Even to the
present day the Hindus refuse to use the arch, though it has long
been employed in their country by the Mahometans. As they
quaintly express it, ‘an arch never sleeps;’ and it is true that by
CHAPTER I. 19

its thrusting and pressure it is always tending to tear a building

to pieces. In spite of all counterpoises, whenever the smallest
damage is done it hastens the ruin of a building which, if more
simply constructed, might last for ages.”

Fig. 11.—Roof-framing of a Kura.

When the frame is mortised, the carpenter employs the most

elaborate methods of mortising, of which there are many dif-
ferent formulas; yet I was informed by an American architect
that their ways had no advantage as regards strength over those
employed by our carpenters in doing the same work. There cer-
tainly seems to be much unnecessary work about many of their
framing-joints. This same gentleman greatly admired the way in
which the Japanese carpenter used the adze, and regretted that
more of this kind of work was not done in America. In scarfing
beams a common form of joint is made, precisely similar to that
made by our carpenters (fig. 4). This joint is called a Samisen
tsugi, it being similar to the joint in the handle of a guitar-like
instrument called a samisen.4 [22]

usually cedar or pine. The corner posts, as well as the other large upright posts,
called hashira (H), are square, and five sun in thickness; these are tenoned
into the plate upon which they rest. This plate is called do-dai (D); it is made
of cedar, and sometimes of chestnut. The do-dai is six sun square, and rests
directly on a number of stones, which are called do-dai-ishi (D,1). Between
the hashira come smaller uprights, called ma-bashira (M) (hashira changed
to bashira for euphony); these are two sun square. Through these pass the
cross-pieces called nuki; these are four sun wide and one sun thick. To these
20 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 12.—Framing of an Ordinary Two-stored House.

Diagonal bracing in the frame-work of a building is never [23]

are attached the bamboo slats as substitutes for laths. The horizontal beam to
support the second-story floor is called the nikaibari (Ni); this is of pine, with
a vertical thickness of one foot two sun, and a width of six tenths of a sun.
The rafters of the roof, called yane-shita (Ya), in this frame are nine feet long,
three sun wide, and eight tenths of a sun in thickness. Cross-beams (T), from
the upper plate from which spring posts to support the ridge-pole, are called
taruki. The first floor is sustained by posts that rest on stones embedded in
the ground, as well as by a beam called yuka-shita (Yu); this is secured to the
upright beams at the height of one and one-half or two feet above the do-dai.
The upper floor-joists are of pine, two inches square; the flooring boards are
six tenths of a sun in thickness, and one foot wide. The lower floor-joists,
called neda-maruta (Ne), are rough round sticks, three sun in diameter, hewn
on opposite sides. On top of these rest pine boards six tenths of a sun in
thickness.
4
Fig. 12 represents the frame-work of an ordinary two-storied house. It is
copied from a Japanese carpenter's drawing, kindly furnished the writer by Mr.
Fukuzawa, of Tokio, proper corrections in perspective having been made. The
various parts have been lettered, and the dimensions given in Japanese feet and
inches. The Japanese foot is, within the fraction of an inch, the same as ours,
and is divided into ten parts, called sun. The wood employed in the frame is
CHAPTER I. 21

seen. Sometimes, however, the uprights in a weak frame are

supported by braces running from the ground at an acute angle,
and held in place by wooden pins (fig. 13). Outside diagonal
braces are sometimes met with as an ornamental feature. In the
province of Ise one often sees a brace or bracket made out of
an unhewn piece of timber, generally the proximal portion of
some big branch. This is fastened to an upright, and appears to
be a brace to hold up the end of a horizontal beam that projects
beyond the eaves. These braces, however, are not even notched
into the upright, but held in place by square wooden pins, and [24]
are of little use as a support for the building, though answering
well to hold fishing-rods and other long poles, which find here
convenient lodgment (fig. 14).

Fig. 13.—Outside Braces.

In the village of Naruge, in Yamato, I noticed in an old inn

a diagonal brace which made a pleasing ornamental feature to a
solid frame-work, upon which rested a ponderous supplementary
roof, heavily tiled. As the horizontal beams were supported by
uprights beyond the ends of the brackets, no additional strength
was gained by these braces in question, except as they might
prevent fore and aft displacement. They were placed here solely
 22 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

for their ornamental appearance; or at least that was all the

function they appeared to perform (fig. 15).

Fig. 14.—Outside Brace.

The frame-work of a building is often revealed in the room in

a way that would delight the heart of an Eastlake. Irregularities
in the form of a stick are not looked upon as a hindrance in the
construction of a building. From the way such crooked beams
are brought into use, one is led to believe that the builder prefers
them. The desire for rustic effects leads to the selection of
odd-shaped timber. Fig. 7 represents the end of a room, wherein
is seen a crooked cross-piece passing through a central upright,
which sustains the ridge-pole.
In the finish of the rooms great care is shown in the selection
[25] and preparation of the wood. For the better rooms the wood is se-
lected as follows: First, a stick of timber is sawed (fig. 16),—the
central piece (A) being rejected as liable to split. Second, in the
round upright post that in most instances forms the front of the
shallow partition that divides one end of the best room into two
bays or recesses, a deep groove is cut, to admit the edge of the
partition (fig. 17). By this treatment the wood is not so apt to
check or split.
CHAPTER I. 23

Fig. 15.—Ornamental Brace.

Special details of the room will be described in other chapters.

It may be well to state here, however, that in the finish of the
interior the daiku, or carpenter, has finished his work, and a
new set of workmen, the sashi-mono-ya, or cabinetmakers, come
in,—the rough framing and similar work being done by the car-
penter proper. Great care is taken to secure wood that matches
in grain and color; and this can be done only by getting material
that has come from the same log. In the lumberyard one notices
boards of uniform lengths tied up in bundles,—in fact tied up in
precisely the same position that the wood occupied in the trunk [26]
before it was sawed into boards (fig. 18). So with other wood
material,—the pieces are kept together in the same manner. One
never sees in a lumber-yard a promiscuous pile of boards, but
each log having been cut into boards is securely tied without
displacement. As the rooms are made in sizes corresponding
to the number of mats they are to contain, the beams, uprights,
rafters, flooring-boards, boards for the ceiling, and all strips are
got out in sizes to accommodate these various dimensions. The
dimensions of the mats from one end of the Empire to the other
are approximately three feet wide and six feet long; and these
 24 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

are fitted compactly on the floor. The architect marks on his

plan the number of mats each room is to contain,—this number
defining the size of the room; hence the lumber used must be of
definite lengths, and the carpenter is sure to find these lengths at
the lumber-yard. It follows from this that but little waste occurs
in the construction of a Japanese house. Far different is it with us
in our extravagant and senseless methods of house-building. In
our country, a man after building a wooden house finds his cellar
and shed choked to repletion with the waste of his new house,
and for a year or more at least has the grim comfort of feeding
[27] his fireplaces and kitchen stove with rough and finished woods
which have cost him at the rate of four to eight cents per square
foot!

Fig. 16.—Method of Cutting Timber for House-Finish.

Fig. 17.—Section of Post Grooved for Partition.

CHAPTER I. 25

Fig. 18.—Bundle of Boards.

Fig. 19.—Section of ceiling.

The ordinary ceiling in a Japanese house consists of wide thin

boards, with their edges slightly overlapping. These boards at
first sight appear to be supported by narrow strips of wood like
slender beams, upon which the boards rest (fig. 96). On reflec-
tion, however, it soon becomes apparent that these diminutive
cross-beams, measuring in section an inch square or less, are
altogether inadequate to support the ceiling, thin and light as the
boards composing it really are. As one examines the ceiling, he
finds no trace of pin or nail, and finally comes to wonder how
the strips and boards are held in place, and why the whole ceiling
does not sag.5 The explanation is that the strips upon which the
boards are to rest are first stretched across the room at distances
apart varying from ten to eighteen inches. The ends of these strips [28]

5
The accompanying sketches will illustrate the various stages in the con-
struction of the ceiling.
 26 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

are supported by a moulding which is secured to the uprights of

the wall. In cheap houses this moulding in section is angular;
notches are cut in the uprights, and into these notches the sharp
edge of the angular moulding rests and is secured (fig. 19). The
moulding is cut in this way to economize material. The strips
having been adjusted, they are brought to a uniform level, but
crowning slightly,—that is, the centre is a little higher than the
sides,—and are held in place either by a long board being placed
temporarily beneath them, and propped up from the floor below;
or else a long stick is placed beneath them, which is supported
by a stout string from the rafters above (fig. 20). A low staging
is then erected on the floor (the stud of the room rarely being
over seven or eight feet); and the carpenter standing between the
[29] cross-strips, while elevated upon the staging, adjusts the boards,
one after the other, as they are passed up to him. The first board
is placed against the wall, its edge fitting into a groove in the
uprights; the next board is placed with its edge on the first board,
and then nailed from above, with wooden or bamboo pegs, to
the cross-strips. Thus it is that no nail or peg holes appear in the
ceiling from below. Board after board is thus placed in position,
each board lapping slightly over the one before it, and each in
turn being slightly nailed to the strips. Each board has a deep
wide groove ploughed out near its lapping edge, so that it bends
very readily, and is thus brought down on the strip below. When
the boards are carried in this manner half way across the room,
a long, narrow, and thick piece of wood, say six feet in length,
is placed on the last board laid, within an inch of its free edge
and parallel to it. This piece is firmly nailed to the board upon
which it rests, and into the cross-strips below. To the edge of
this piece two or three long strips of wood are nailed vertically,
the upper ends being nailed to the nearest rafters above. In this
way is the ceiling suspended (fig. 21). After this has been done,
the remaining boards of the ceiling are placed in position and
[30] secured, one after another, until the last is reached. To secure
CHAPTER I. 27

the last one in position the carpenter gets down from his position
and adopts other methods. One method is to place this board
on the last one secured and weight it with a few heavy stones,
and then it is moved along from below and placed in position,
where it remains quite as firm as if it had been lightly nailed
(fig. 22). In case there is a closet in the room or a recess,
the last board is sawed into two or three lengths, and these are
placed in position, one after another, and nailed from above to
the cross-strips,—care being taken to have these sections come
directly over the cross-strips, so that from below the appearance
is that of a continuous board. The sections are so arranged, as to
length, that the last piece comes in the closet; and this may either
be weighted with stones or left out altogether (fig. 23)

Fig. 20.—Ceiling-rafters Supported Temporarily.

We have been thus explicit in describing the ceiling, because

so few even among the Japanese seem to understand precisely
the manner in which it is suspended.
In long rooms one is oftentimes surprised to see boards of
great width composing the ceiling, and apparently continuous
from one end of the room to the other. What appears to be a
single board is in fact composed of a number of short lengths. [31]
The matching of the grain and color is accomplished by taking
28 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 21.—Method of Suspending Ceiling as Seen from Above.

Fig. 22.—Ceiling-Board Weighted with Stones.

two adjacent boards in a bundle of boards, as previously figured

and described, and placing them so that the same ends come
together (fig. 24),—care being taken, of course, to have the joints
come directly over the cross-pieces. The graining of the wood
becomes continuous, each line of the grain and the color being
of course duplicated and matched in the other board. Sometimes
a number of lengths of board may be continued in this way, and
yet from below the appearance is that of a single long piece.
The advantage of keeping all the boards of a given log in jux-
taposition will be readily understood. In our country a carpenter
has to ransack a lumber-yard to find wood of a similar grain and
color; and even then he generally fails to get wood of precisely
the same kind.
The permanent partitions within the house are made in various
ways. In one method, bamboo strips of various lengths take the
place of laths. Small bamboos are first nailed in a vertical posi-
tion to the wooden strips, which are fastened from one upright to
CHAPTER I. 29

Fig. 23.—Ceiling-Board in Closet.

Fig. 24.—Method of Removing Boards from a Bundle to

Preserve Uniformity of Grain.

another; narrow strips of bamboo are then secured across these

bamboos by means of coarse cords of straw, or bark fibre (fig.
4). This partition is not unlike our own plaster-and-lath partition.
Another kind of partition may be of boards; and against these
small bamboo rods are nailed quite close together, and upon this
the plaster is put. Considerable pains are taken as to the plaster-
ing. The plasterer brings to the house samples of various-colored
sands and clays, so that one may select from these the color of [32]
his wall. A good coat of plaster comprises three layers. The first
layer, called shita-nuri, is composed of mud, in which chopped
straw is mixed; a second layer, called chu-nuri, of rough lime,
mixed with mud; the third layer, called uwa-nuri, has the colored
clay or sand mixed with lime,—and this last layer is always
applied by a skilful workman. Other methods of treating this
surface will be given in the chapter on interiors.
Many of the partitions between the rooms consist entirely of
light sliding screens, which will be specially described farther
on. Often two or more sides of the house are composed entirely
of these simple and frail devices. The outside permanent walls of
a house, if of wood, are made of thin boards nailed to the frame
horizontally,—as we lay clapboards on our houses. These may
 30 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

be more firmly held to the house by long strips nailed against

the boards vertically. The boards may also be secured to the
house vertically, and weather-strips nailed over the seams,—as
is commonly the way with certain of our houses. In the southern
provinces a rough house-wall is made of wide slabs of bark,
placed vertically, and held in place by thin strips of bamboo
nailed cross-wise. This style is common among the poorer hous-
es in Japan; and, indeed, in the better class of houses it is often
used as an ornamental feature, placed at the height of a few feet
from the ground.
Outside plastered walls are also very common, though not
of a durable nature. This kind of wall is frequently seen in
a dilapidated condition. In Japanese picture-books this broken
condition is often shown, with the bamboo slats exposed, as a
suggestion of poverty.
In the cities, the outside walls of more durable structures, such
as warehouses, are not infrequently covered with square tiles, a
board wall being first made, to which the tiles are secured by
[33] being nailed at their corners. These may be placed in diagonal or
horizontal rows,—in either case an interspace of a quarter of an
inch being left between the tiles, and the seams closed with white
plaster, spreading on each side to the width of an inch or more,
and finished with a rounded surface. This work is done in a very
tasteful and artistic manner, and the effect of the dark-gray tiles
crossed by these white bars of plaster is very striking (fig. 25).
As the fire-proof buildings, or kura, are often used as
dwelling—places, a brief mention of their structure may be
proper here. These buildings are specially designed for fire-proof
storehouses. They are generally two stories in height, with walls
eighteen inches to two feet or more in thickness, composed of
mud plastered on to a frame-work of great strength and solidity.
The beams are closely notched, and bound with a coarse-fibred
rope; and small bamboos are closely secured to the beams. Short
coarse-fibred ropes, a foot in length, are secured in close rows
CHAPTER I. 31

Fig. 25.—Arrangement of Square Tiles on Side of House.

to the crossbeams and uprights. All these preparations are made

for the purpose of more securely holding the successive layers
of mud to be applied. As a preliminary to this work a huge and [34]
ample staging is erected to completely envelop the building. The
staging, indeed, forms a huge cage, and upon this straw mattings
are hung so that the mud plastering shall not dry too quickly.
This cage is sufficiently ample to allow the men to work freely
around and beneath it. Layer after layer is applied, and a long
time elapses between these applications, in order that each layer
may dry properly. Two years or more are required in the proper
construction of one of these fire-proof buildings. The walls
having been finished, a coat of plaster, or a plaster mixed with
lamp-black, is applied, and a fine polished surface, like black
lacquer, is produced. This polished black surface is made by first
rubbing with a cloth, then with silk, and finally with the hand.
A newly-finished kura presents a remarkably solid and im-
posing appearance. The roofs are of immense thickness, with
enormous ridges ornamented with artistic designs in stucco, and
the ridges terminating with ornamental tiles in high-relief. The
fine polish of these buildings soon becomes impaired, and they
 32 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

finally assume a dull black or slaty color; sometimes a coat of

white plaster is applied. Upon the outside of the wall a series of
long iron hooks are seen; these are to hold an adjustable wooden
casing which is often used to cover the walls, and thus to protect
them from the eroding action of the elements. These wooden
casings are placed against the buildings, proper openings being
left through which the iron hooks project, and long slender bars
of wood stretch across the wall, held in place by the upturned
ends of the iron hooks, and in turn holding the wooden casing in
place.
The windows of the buildings are small, and each is closed
either by a sliding-door of great thickness and solidity, or by
double-shutters swinging together. The edges of these shutters
[35] have a series of rabbets, or steps, precisely like those seen in
the heavy doors of a bank-safe. At the time of a fire, additional
precautions are taken by stopping up the chinks of these closed
shutters with mud, which is always at hand, ready mixed for
such an emergency. These buildings, when properly constructed,
seem to answer their purpose admirably; and after a conflagra-
tion, when all the surrounding territory is absolutely flat;—for
there are no tottering chimneys or cavernous cellars and walls to
be seen, as with us,—these black, grimy kura stand conspicuous
in the general ruin. They do not all survive, however, as smoke
is often seen issuing from some of them, indicating that, as in
our own country, safes are not always fire-proof.
A somewhat extended experience with the common everyday
carpenter at home leads me to say, without fear of contradiction,
that in matters pertaining to their craft the Japanese carpenters
are superior to American. Not only do they show their superiority
in their work, but in their versatile ability in making new things.
One is amazed to see how patiently a Japanese carpenter or cab-
inet-maker will struggle over plans, not only drawn in ways new
and strange to him, but of objects equally new,—and struggle
successfully. It is a notorious fact that most of the carpenters in
CHAPTER I. 33

our smaller towns and villages are utterly incompetent to carry

out any special demand made upon them, outside the building of
the conventional two-storied house and ordinary roof. They stand
bewildered in the presence of a window-projection or cornice
outside the prescribed ruts with which they and their fathers were
familiar. Indeed, in most cases their fathers were not carpenters,
nor will their children be; and herein alone the Japanese carpenter
has an immense advantage over the American, for his trade, as
well as other trades, have been perpetuated through generations
of families. The little children have been brought up amidst the
odor of fragrant shavings,—have with childish hands performed [36]
the duties of an adjustable vise or clamp; and with the same tools
which when children they have handed to their fathers, they have
in later days earned their daily rice.
When I see one of our carpenters' ponderous tool-chests, made
of polished woods, inlaid with brass decorations, and filled to re-
pletion with several hundred dollars' worth of highly polished and
elaborate machine-made implements, and contemplate the work
often done with them,—with everything binding that should go
loose, and everything rattling that should be tight, and much work
that has to be done twice over, with an indication everywhere of
a poverty of ideas,—and then recall the Japanese carpenter with
his ridiculously light and flimsy tool-box containing a meagre as-
sortment of rude and primitive tools,—considering the carpentry
of the two people, I am forced to the conviction that civilization
and modern appliances count as nothing unless accompanied
with a moiety of brains and some little taste and wit.
It is a very serious fact that now-a-days no one in our coun-
try is acquiring faithfully the carpenter's trade. Much of this
lamentable condition of things is no doubt due to the fact that
machine-work has supplanted the hand-work of former times.6
6
General Francis A. Walker, in his Lowell Lectures on the United States
Census for 1880, shows that carpenters constitute the largest single body of
artisans working for the supply of local wants. He shows that the increase of
 34 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Doors, blinds, sashes, mouldings are now turned out by the cord
and mile, and all done in such greedy haste, and with the greenest
of lumber, that if it does not tumble to pieces in transportation it
is sure to do so very soon after entering into the house-structure.
Nevertheless, the miserable truth yet remains that any man who
[37] has nailed up a few boxes, or stood in front of a circular saw for
a few months, feels competent to exercise all the duties of that
most honorable craft,—the building of a house.7
It may be interesting, in this connection, to mention a few of
the principal tools one commonly sees in use among the Japanese
carpenters. After having seen the good and serviceable carpentry,
the perfect joints and complex mortises, done by good Japanese
workmen, one is astonished to find that they do their work
without the aid of certain appliances considered indispensable by
similar craftsmen in our country. They have no bench, no vise, no
spirit-level, and no bit-stock; and as for labor-saving machinery,

this body from decade to decade is far behind what it should be if it increased
in the ratio of the population; and though this fact might excite surprise, he
shows that it is due to the enormous increase in machine-made material, such
as doors, sashes, blinds, etc.; in other words, to the making of those parts which
in former times trained a man in delicate work and accurate joinery.
7
There is no question but that in England apprentices serve their time at
trades more faithfully than with us; nevertheless, the complaints that go up in
the English press in regard to poor and slovenly work show the existence of a
similar class of impostors, who defraud the public by claiming to be what they
are not. The erratic Charles Reade, in a series of letters addressed to the “Pall
Mall Gazette,” on builders' blunders, inveighs against the British workmen as
follows: “When last seen, I was standing on the first floor of the thing they call
a house, with a blunder under my feet,—unvarnished, unjoined boards; and
a blunder over my head,—the oppressive, glaring plaster-ceiling, full of the
inevitable cracks, and foul with the smoke of only three months' gas.”
In regard to sash windows, he says: “This room is lighted by what may be
defined ‘the unscientific window.’ Here, in this single structure, you may see
most of the intellectual vices that mark the unscientific mind. The scientific
way is always the simple way; so here you have complication on complica-
tion,—one half the window is to go up, the other half is to come down. The
maker of it goes out of his way to struggle with Nature's laws; he grapples
CHAPTER I. 35

they have absolutely nothing. With many places which could

be utilized for water-power, the old country saw-mill has not
occurred to them.8 Their tools appear to be roughly made, and
of primitive design, though evidently of the best-tempered steel.
The only substitute for the carpenter's bench is a plank on the [38]
floor, or on two horses; a square, firm, upright post is the nearest
approach to a bench and vise, for to this beam a block of wood
to be sawed into pieces is firmly held (fig. 26). A big wooden
wedge is bound firmly to the post with a stout rope, and this
driven down with vigorous blows till it pinches the block which
is to be cut into the desired proportions.
In using many of the tools, the Japanese carpenter handles
them quite differently from our workman; for instance, he draws
the plane towards him instead of pushing it from him. The planes
are very rude-looking implements. Their bodies, instead of being
thick blocks of wood, are quite wide and thin (fig. 27, D, E),
and the blades are inclined at a greater angle than the blade in
our plane. In some planes, however, the blade stands vertical;
this is used in lieu of the steel scrapers in giving wood a smooth
finish, and might be used with advantage by our carpenters as a
substitute for the piece of glass or thin plate of steel with which
they usually scrape the surface of the wood. A huge plane is often
seen, five or six feet long. This plane, however, is fixed in an
inclined position, upside down; that is, with the blade uppermost.

insanely with gravitation, and therefore he must use cords and weights and
pulleys, and build boxes to hide them in. He is a great hider. His wooden
frames move up and down wooden grooves, open to atmospheric influence.
What is the consequence? The atmosphere becomes humid; the wooden frame
sticks in the wooden box, and the unscientific window is jammed. What, ho!
Send for the Curse of Families, the British workman! On one of the cords
breaking (they are always breaking), send for the Curse of Families to patch
the blunder of the unscientific builder.”
8
A Government bureau called the Kaitakushi, now fortunately extinct, es-
tablished in Yezo, the seat of its labors, one or two saw-mills; but whether they
are still at work I do not know.
 36 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 26.—A Japanese Carpenter's Vice.

The board, or piece to be planed, is moved back and forth upon

[39] it.
Draw-shaves are in common use. The saws are of various
kinds, with teeth much longer than those of our saws, and cut in
different ways. Some of these forms reminded me of the teeth
seen in certain recently patented saws in the United States. Some
saws have teeth on the back as well as on the front, one edge be-
ing used as a cross-cut saw (fig. 27 B, C). The hand-saw, instead
of having the curious loop-shaped handle made to accommodate
only one hand as with us, has a simple straight cylindrical handle
as long as the saw itself, and sometimes longer. Our carpenters
engage one hand in holding the stick to be sawed, while driving
the saw with the other hand; the Japanese carpenter, on the
contrary, holds the piece with his foot, and stooping over, with
his two hands drives the saw by quick and rapid cuts through
the wood. This style of working and doing many other things
could never be adopted in this country without an importation of
Japanese backs. It was an extraordinary sight to see the attitudes
[40] these people assumed in doing work of various kinds. A servant
CHAPTER I. 37

girl, for example, in wiping up the floor or verandah with a wet

cloth, does not get down on her knees to do her work, but bending
over while still on her feet, she pushes the cloth back and forth,
and thus in this trying position performs her task.

Fig. 27.—Carpenters' Tools in Common Use.

The adze is provided with a rough handle bending consider-

ably at the lower end, not unlike a hockey-stick (fig. 27, A). In
summer the carpenters work with the scantiest clothing possible,
and nearly always barefooted. It is a startling sight to a nervous
man to see a carpenter standing on a stick of timber, hacking
away in a furious manner with this crooked-handled instrument
having an edge as sharp as a razor, and taking off great chips
of the wood within an inch of his naked toes. Never having
ourselves seen a toeless carpenter, or one whose feet showed
the slightest indication of his ever having missed the mark, we
regarded as good evidence of the unerring accuracy with which
they use this serviceable tool.
For drilling holes a very long-handled awl is used. The car-
penter seizing the handle at the end, between the palms of his
hands, and moving his hands rapidly back and forth, pushing
down at the same time, the awl is made rapidly to rotate back
and forth; as his hands gradually slip down on the handle he
quickly seizes it at the upper end again, continuing the motion as
 38 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

before. One is astonished to see how rapidly holes are drilled in

this simple, yet effective way. For large holes, augers similar to
ours are used. Their chisel is also much like ours in shape. For
nailing in places above the easy reach of both hands they use a
hammer, one end of which is prolonged to a point; holding, then,
a nail between the thumb and finger with the hammer grasped in
the same hand, a hole is made in the wood with the pointed end
of the hammer, the nail inserted and driven in.
A portable nail-box is used in the shape of a round basket, to
[41] which is attached a short cord with a button of wood or bamboo
at the end; this is suspended from a sash or cord that encircles the
waist (fig. 28). The shingler's nail-box has the bottom prolonged
and perforated, so that it may be temporarily nailed to the roof
(fig. 64).

Fig. 28.—A Japanese Nail-Basket.

There are three implements of the Japanese carpenter which

are inseparable companions; these are the magari-gane, sumi-
sashi, and sumi-tsubo. The magari-gane is an iron square rather
narrower than our square. The sumi-sashi is a double-ended
brush made out of fibrous wood, rounded at one end, and having
a wide sharp edge at the other (fig. 29). The carpenter always has
with him a box containing cotton saturated with ink; by means
of the sumi-sashi and ink the carpenter can mark characters and
signs with the rounded end, or fine black lines with the sharp
edge. One, advantage attending this kind of a brush is that the
carpenter can make one at a moment's notice. The sumi-tsubo(fig.
30, A, B) is the substitute for our carpenter's chalk-line; it is made
CHAPTER I. 39

of wood, often curiously wrought, having at one end a cavity

scooped out and filled with cotton saturated with ink, and the
other end has a reel with a little crank. Upon the reel is wound a
long cord, the free end of which passes through the cotton and
out through a hole at the end of the instrument. To the end of
the cord is secured an object resembling an awl. To make a line
on a plank or board the awl is driven into the wood, the cord
is unreeled, and in this act it becomes blackened with ink; by
snapping the cord in the usual way, a clear black line is left upon [42]
the surface of the wood. It is then quickly reeled up again by
means of a little crank. This instrument is an improvement in
every way over the chalk-line, as it is more convenient, and by
its use a clear black line is left upon the wood, instead of the
dim chalk-line which is so easily effaced. This implement is
often used as a plumb-line by giving a turn to the cord about the
handle, thus holding it firmly, and suspending the instrument by
means of the awl.

Fig. 29.—A Carpenter's Marking-Brush Made of Wood.

Fig. 30.—The Sumi-Tsubo.

 40 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

A plumb-line is made with a strip of wood four or five feet in

length, to each end of which is nailed, at right angles, a strip of
wood four or five inches long, projecting an inch on one side.
These two transverse strips are of exactly the same length, and
are so adjusted to the longer strip as to project the same distance.
From the longer arm of one of these pieces is suspended a cord
with a weight at the lower end. In plumbing a wall, the short ends
of the transverse pieces are brought against the wall or portion to
be levelled, and an adjustment is made till the cord just touches
the edge of the lower arm. The accompanying sketch (fig. 31)
will make clear the appearance and method of using this simple
device.

Fig. 31.—The Japanese Plumb-Line.

In gluing pieces of wood together, more especially veneers,

the Japanese resort to a device which is common with American
cabinet-makers,—of bringing into play a number of elastic or
[43] bamboo rods, one end coming against a firm ceiling or support,
and the other end pressing on the wood to be united. In polishing
and grinding, the same device is used in getting pressure.
This necessarily brief description is not to be regarded in any
way as a catalogue of Japanese carpenters' tools, but is intended
simply to describe those more commonly seen as one watches
them at their work. The chief merit of many of these tools is that
they can easily be made by the users; indeed, with the exception
of the iron part, every Japanese carpenter can and often does
make his own tools.
CHAPTER I. 41

Fig. 32.—Ancient Carpenter (copied from an old painting).

By an examination of old books and pictures one gets an idea

of the antiquity of many objects still in use in Japan. I was
shown, at the house of a Japanese antiquary, a copy of a very
old maki-mono (a long scroll of paper rolled up like a roll of
wall-paper, on which continuous stories or historical events are
written or painted). This maki-mono in question was painted
by Takakana, of Kioto, five hundred and seventy years ago,
and represented the building of a temple, from the preliminary
exercises to its completion. One sketch showed the carpenters
at work hewing out the wood and making the frame. There
were many men at work; a few were eating and drinking; tools
were lying about. In all the tools represented in the picture,—of
which there were chisels, mallets, hatchets, adzes, squares, and
saws,—there was no plane or long saw. A piece of timber was
being cut longitudinally with a chisel. The square was the same
as that in use to-day. The tool which seemed to take the place of
a plane was similar to a tool still used by coopers, but I believe [44]
by no other class of workmen, though I remember to have seen a
man and a boy engaged in stripping bark from a long pole with a
tool similar to the one seen in the sketch (fig. 32).
The sumi-tsubo was much more simple and primitive in form
in those times, judging from the sketch given on page 42 (fig.
30, C). A carpenter's tool-box is shown quite as small and light
as similar boxes in use to-day. To the cover of this box (fig. 32)
42 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

is attached a curious hand-saw with a curved edge. Large saws

with curved edges, having handles at both ends, to be worked by
two men, are in common use; but I have never seen a hand-saw
of this shape. All the saws represented in the picture had the
same curved edge.
Nothing is more to be commended than the strong, durable,
and sensible way in which the Japanese carpenter erects his
staging. The various parts of a staging are never nailed together,
as this would not only weaken the pieces through which spikes
and nails have been driven, but gradually impair its integrity.
All the pieces, upright and transverse, are firmly tied together
with tough, strong rope. The rope is wound about, again and
again, in the tightest possible manner. Buddhist temples of lofty
proportions are reared and finished, and yet one never hears of
the frightful accidents that so often occur at home as the results
of stagings giving way in the erection of similar lofty structures.
How exceedingly dull and stupid it must appear to a Japanese
carpenter when he learns that his Christian brother constructs a
staging that is liable, sooner or later, to precipitate him to the
ground.
CHAPTER II. TYPES OF
HOUSES.
[45]
Writers on Japan have often commented upon the absence of
any grand or imposing architectural edifices in that country; and
they have offered in explanation, that in a country shaken by
frequent earthquakes no stately structures or buildings of lofty
proportions can endure. Nevertheless, many such structures do
exist, and have existed for centuries,—as witness the old temples
and lofty pagodas, and also the castles of the Daimios, notably
the ones at Kumamoto and Nagoya. If the truth were known, it
would be found that revolution and rebellion have been among
the principal destructive agencies in nearly obliterating whatever
may have once existed of grand architectural structures in Japan.
Aimé Humbert finds much to admire in the castles of the
Daimios, and says, with truth: “In general, richness of detail is
less aimed at than the general effect resulting from the grandeur
and harmony of the proportions of the buildings. In this respect
some of the seigniorial residences of Japan deserve to figure
among the architectural monuments of Eastern Asia.”
In regard to the architecture of Japan, as to other matters, one
must put himself in an attitude of sympathy with her people, or at
least he must become awakened to a sympathetic appreciation of
their work and the conditions under which it has arisen. Above [46]
all, he must rid himself of all preconceived ideas as to what a
house should be, and judge the work of a Japanese builder solely
from the Japanese stand-point. Architectural edifices, such as
we recognize as architectural, do not exist outside her temples
and castles. Some reason for this condition of things may be
looked for in the fact that the vast majority of the Japanese are
 44 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

poor,—very poor; and further, in the fact that the idea of co-op-
erative buildings, with the exception of the Yashiki barracks, has
never entered a Japanese mind,—each family, with few excep-
tions, managing to have a house of its own. As a result of this,
a vast number of the houses are shelters merely, and are such
from necessity; though even among these poorer shelters little
bits of temple architecture creep in,—quite as scanty, however,
in that respect as are similar features in our two-storied wooden
boxes at home, which may have a bit of Grecian suggestion in
the window caps, or of Doric in the front door-posts.
In considering the temples of the Japanese, moreover, one
should take into account their methods of worship, and precisely
what use the worshippers make of these remarkable edifices. And
so with intelligent sympathy finally aroused in all these matters,
they begin to wear a new aspect; and what appeared grotesque
and unmeaning before, now becomes full of significance and
beauty. We see that there is something truly majestic in the
appearance of the broad and massive temples, with the grand
upward sweep of their heavily-tiled roofs and deep-shaded eaves,
with intricate maze of supports and carvings beneath; the whole
sustained on colossal round posts locked and tied together by
equally massive timbers. Certainly, to a Japanese the effect must
be inspiring beyond description; and the contrast between these
structures and the tiny and perishable dwellings that surround
them renders the former all the more grand and impressive.
Foreigners, though familiar with the cathedral architecture of
[47] Europe, must yet see much to admire in these buildings. Even
in the smaller towns and villages, where one might least expect
to find such structures, the traveller sometimes encounters these
stately edifices. Their surroundings are invariably picturesque;
no sterile lot, or worthless sand-hill outside the village, will suit
these simple people, but the most charming and beautiful place
is always selected as a site for their temples of worship.
Whatever may be said regarding the architecture of Japan, the
CHAPTER II. TYPES OF HOUSES. 45

foreigner, at least, finds it difficult to recognize any distinct types

of architecture among the houses, or to distinguish any radical
differences in the various kinds of dwellings he sees in his travels
through the country. It may be possible that these exist, for one
soon gets to recognize the differences between the ancient and
modern house. There are also marked differences between the
compact house of the merchant in the city and the country house;
but as for special types of architecture that would parallel the
different styles found in our country, there are none. Everywhere
one notices minor details of finish and ornament which he sees
more fully developed in the temple architecture, and which is
evidently derived from this source; and if it can be shown, as
it unquestionably can, that these features were brought into the
country by the priests who brought one of the two great religions,
then we can trace many features of architectural detail to their
home, and to the avenues through which they came.
In connection with the statement just made, that it is diffi-
cult to recognize any special types of architecture in Japanese
dwellings, it may be interesting to mention that we found it
impossible to get books in their language treating of house ar-
chitecture. Doubtless books of this nature exist,—indeed, they
must exist; but though the writer had a Japanese bookseller, and
a number of intelligent friends among the Japanese, looking for
such books, he never had the good fortune to secure any. Books [48]
in abundance can be got treating of temple architecture, from the
plans of the framing to the completed structure; also of kura,
or go-downs, gateways, tori-i, etc. Plans of buildings for their
tea-ceremonies, and endless designs for the inside finish of a
house,—the recesses, book-shelves, screens, and indeed all the
delicate cabinet-work,—are easily obtainable; but a book which
shall show the plans and elevations of the ordinary dwelling the
writer has never yet seen. A number of friends have given him
the plans of their houses as made by the carpenter, but there were
no elevations or details of outside finish represented. It would
 46 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

seem as if, for the ordinary houses at least, it were only necessary
to detail in plan the number and size of the rooms, leaving the
rest of the structure to be completed in any way by the carpenter,
so long as he contrived to keep the rain out.
If there is no attempt at architectural display in the dwelling-
houses of Japan the traveller is at least spared those miserable
experiences he so often encounters in his own country, where to a
few houses of good taste he is sure to pass hundreds of perforated
wooden boxes with angular roofs and red chimneys unrelieved
by a single moulding; and now and then to meet with one
of those cupola-crowned, broad-brimmed, corinthian-columned
abominations, as well as with other forms equally grotesque and
equally offending good taste.
Owing to the former somewhat isolated life of the different
provinces, the style of building in Japan varies considerably;
and this is more particularly marked in the design of the roof
and ridge. Though the Japanese are conservative in many things
concerning the house, it is worthy of note that changes have
taken place in the house architecture within two hundred and
fifty years; at all events, houses of the olden times have much
heavier beams in their frame and wider planks in their structure,
[49] than have the houses of more recent times. A probable reason is
that wood was much cheaper in past times; or it is possible that
experience has taught them that sufficiently strong houses can be
made with lighter material.
The Japanese dwellings are always of wood, usually of one
story and unpainted. Rarely does a house strike one as being
specially marked or better looking than its neighbors; more sub-
stantial, certainly, some of them are, and yet there is a sameness
about them which becomes wearisome. Particularly is this the
case with the long, uninteresting row of houses that border a
village street; their picturesque roofs alone save them from be-
coming monotonous. A closer study, however, reveals some
marked differences between the country and city houses, as well
CHAPTER II. TYPES OF HOUSES. 47

as between those of different provinces.

The country house, if anything more than a shelter from the
elements, is larger and more substantial than the city house, and
with its ponderous thatched roof and elaborate ridge is always
picturesque. One sees much larger houses in the north,—roofs of
grand proportions and an amplitude of space beneath, that farther
south occurs only under the roofs of temples. We speak now of
the houses of the better classes, for the poor farm-laborer and
fisherman, as well as their prototypes in the city, possess houses
that are little better than shanties, built, as a friend has forcibly
expressed it, of “chips, paper, and straw.” But even these huts,
clustered together as they oftentimes are in the larger cities, are
palatial in contrast to the shattered and filthy condition of a like
class of tenements in many of the cities of Christian countries.
In travelling through the country the absence of a middle
class, as indicated by the dwellings, is painfully apparent. It
is true that you pass, now and then, large comfortable houses
with their broad thatched roofs, showing evidences of wealth and
abundance in the numerous kura and outbuildings surrounding
them; but where you find one of these you pass hundreds which [50]
are barely more than shelters for their inmates; and within, the
few necessary articles render the evidences of poverty all the
more apparent.
Though the people that inhabit such shelters are very poor,
they appear contented and cheerful notwithstanding their pover-
ty. Other classes, who though not poverty-stricken are yet poor
in every sense of the word, occupy dwellings of the simplest
character. Many of the dwellings are often diminutive in size; and
as one looks in at a tiny cottage containing two or three rooms at
the most, the entire house hardly bigger than a good-sized room
at home, and observes a family of three or four persons living
quietly and in a cleanly manner in this limited space, he learns
that in Japan, at least, poverty and constricted quarters are not
always correlated with coarse manners, filth, and crime.
 48 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Country and city houses of the better class vary as great-

ly as with us,—the one with its ponderous thatched roof and
smoke-blackened interior, the other with low roof neatly tiled, or
shingled, and the perfection of cleanliness within.
In Tokio, the houses that abut directly on the street have a
close and prison-like aspect. The walls are composed of boards
or plaster, and perforated with one or two small windows lightly
barred with bamboo, or heavily barred with square wood-grat-
ings. The entrance to one of these houses is generally at one
corner, or at the side. The back of the house and one side, at
least, have a verandah. I speak now of the better class of houses
in the city, but not of the best houses, which almost invariably
stand back from the street and are surrounded by gardens.
The accompanying sketch (fig. 33) represents a group of
houses bordering a street in Kanda Ku, Tokio. The windows are
in some cases projecting or hanging bays, and are barred with
bamboo or square bars of wood. A sliding-screen covered with
stout white paper takes the place of our glass-windows. Through
[51] these gratings the inmates of the house do their bargaining with
the street venders. The entrance to these houses is usually by
means of a gate common to a number. This entrance consists of
a large gate used for vehicles and heavy loads, and by the side
of this is a smaller gate used by the people. Sometimes the big
gate has a large square opening in it, closed by a sliding-door or
grating,—and through this the inmates have ingress and egress.
The houses, if of wood, are painted black; or else, as is more
usually the case, the wood is left in its natural state, and this
gradually turns to a darker shade by exposure. When painted, a
dead black is used; and this color is certainly agreeable to the
eyes, though the heat-rays caused by this black surface become
almost unendurable on hot days, and must add greatly to the
heat and discomfort within the house. With a plastered outside
wall the surface is often left white, while the frame-work of the
building is painted black,—and this treatment gives it a decidedly
CHAPTER II. TYPES OF HOUSES. 49

Fig. 33.—Street in Kanda Ku, Tokio.

funereal aspect.

Fig. 34.—Street in Kanda Ku, Tokio.

[52]
In fig. 34 two other houses in the same street are shown, one
having a two-storied addition in the rear. The entrance to this
house is by means of a gate, which in the sketch is open. The
farther house has the door on the street.
It is not often that the streets are bordered by such well-con-
structed ditches on the side, as is represented in the last two
figures; in these cases the ditches are three or four feet wide, with
well-built stone-walls and stone or wooden bridges spanning
them at the doors and gateways. Through these ditches the water
is running, and though vitiated by the water from the kitchen
and baths is yet sufficiently pure to support quite a number of
 50 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

creatures, such as snails, frogs, and even fishes. In the older

city dwellings of the poorer classes a number of tenements often
occur in a block, and the entrance is by means of a gateway
common to all.
Since the revolution of 1868 there has appeared a new style
[53] of building in Tokio, in which a continuous low of tenements is
under one roof, and each tenement has its own separate entrance
directly upon the street. Fig. 35 gives a sketch of a row of these
tenements. These blocks, nearly always of one story, are now
quite common in various parts of Tokio. In the rear is provided
a small plot for each tenement, which may be used for a garden.
People of small means, but by no means the poorer classes, gen-
erally occupy these dwellings. I was informed by an old resident
of Tokio that only since the revolution have houses been built
with their doors or main entrances opening directly on the street.
This form of house is certainly convenient and economical, and is
destined to be a common feature of house-building in the future.

Fig. 35.—Block of Cheap Tenements in Tokio.

On the business streets similar rows of buildings are seen,

though generally each shop is an independent building, abutting
directly to the next; and in the case of all the smaller shops,
and indeed of many of the larger ones, the dwelling and shop
are one, the goods being displayed in the room on the street,
while the family occupy the back rooms. While one is bartering
at a shop, the whole front being open, he may often catch a
CHAPTER II. TYPES OF HOUSES. 51

glimpse of the family in the back room at dinner, and may look
entirely through a building to a garden beyond. It is a source of [54]
amazement to a foreigner to find in the rear of a row of dull and
sombre business-houses independent dwellings, with rooms of
exquisite taste and cleanliness. I remember, in one of the busiest
streets of Tokio, passing through a lithographer's establishment,
with the inky presses and inky workmen in full activity, and
coming upon the choicest of tiny gardens and, after crossing a
miniature foot-bridge, to a house of rare beauty and finish. It
is customary for the common merchant to live under the same
roof with the shop, or in a closely contiguous building; though
in Tokio, more than elsewhere, I was informed it is the custom
among the wealthy merchants to have their houses in the suburbs
of the city, at some distance from their place of business.

Fig. 36.—Street View of Dwelling in Tokio.

The sketch shown in Fig. 36 is a city house of one of the better

classes. The house stands on a new street, and the lot on one side
is vacant; nevertheless, the house is surrounded on all sides by a
high board-fence,—since, with the open character of a Japanese
house, privacy, if desired, can be secured only by high fences or [55]
thick hedges. The house is shown as it appears from the street.
The front-door is near the gate, which is shown on the left of the
sketch. There is here no display of an architectural front; indeed,
 52 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

there is no display anywhere. The largest and best rooms are in

the back of the house; and what might be called a back-yard,
upon which the kitchen opens, is parallel with the area in front
of the main entrance to the house, and separated from it by a
high fence. The second story contains one room, and this may be
regarded as a guest-chamber. Access to this chamber is by means
of a steep flight of steps, made out of thick plank, and unguarded
by hand-rail of any kind. The roof is heavily tiled, while the
walls of the house are outwardly composed of broad thin boards,
put on vertically, and having strips of wood to cover the joints.
A back view of this house is shown in Fig. 37. Here all the
rooms open directly on the garden. Along the verandah are three
[56] rooms en suite. The balcony of the second story is covered by a
light supplementary roof, from which hangs a bamboo screen to
shade the room from the sun's rays. Similar screens are also seen
hanging below.

Fig. 37.—View of Dwelling from Garden, Tokio.

The verandah is quite spacious; and in line with the division

between the rooms is a groove for the adjustment of a wooden
screen or shutter when it is desired to separate the house into two
portions temporarily. At the end of the verandah to the left of the
sketch is the latrine. The house is quite open beneath, and the air
has free circulation.
CHAPTER II. TYPES OF HOUSES. 53

Fig. 38.—Dwelling Near Kudan, Tokio.

Another type of a Tokio house is shown in Fig. 38. This is a

low, one-storied house, standing directly upon the street, its tiled
roof cut up into curious gables. The entrance is protected by a
barred sliding door. A large hanging bay-window is also barred.
Just over the fence a bamboo curtain may be seen, which shades
the verandah. The back of the house was open, and probably
looked out on a pretty garden,—though this I did not see, as this [57]
sketch, like many others, was taken somewhat hastily.
From this example some idea may be got of the diminu-
tive character of many of the Japanese dwellings, in which,
nevertheless, families live in all cleanliness and comfort.

Fig. 39.—Country Inn in Rikuzen.

 54 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

In the northern part of Japan houses are often seen which

possess features suggestive of the picturesque architecture of
Switzerland,—the gable ends showing, in their exterior, massive
timbers roughly hewn, with all the irregularities of the tree-trunk
preserved, the interstices between these beams being filled with
clay or plaster. The eaves are widely overhanging, with project-
ing rafters. Oftentimes delicately-carved wood is seen about the
gable-ends and projecting balcony. As a still further suggestion
of this resemblance, the main roof, if shingled, as well as the roof
that shelters the verandah, is weighted with stones of various
[58] sizes to prevent its being blown away by the high winds that
often prevail. This feature is particularly common in the Island
of Yezo.
Fig. 39 gives a house of this description near Matsushima, in
Rikuzen. An opening for the egress of smoke occurs on the side
of the roof, in shape not unlike that of a round-topped dormer
window. This opening in almost every instance is found on the
gable end, directly beneath the angle formed at the peak of the
roof.

Fig. 40.—Country Inn in Rikuzen.

Another house of this kind, seen in the same province, is

shown in fig. 40. Here the smoke-outlet is on the ridge in the
shape of an angular roof, with its ridge running at right angles
to the main ridge; in this is a latticed window. This ventilator,
CHAPTER II. TYPES OF HOUSES. 55

as well as the main roof, is heavily thatched, while the supple-

mentary ridge is of boards and weighted with stones. A good
example of a heavily-tiled and plastered wooden fence is seen on
the left of the sketch. In the road a number of laborers are shown
in the act of moving a heavy block of stone. [59]

Fig. 41.—House Near Mororan, Yezo.

Another house, shown in fig. 41, was seen on the road to

Mororan, in Yezo. Here the smoke-outlet was in the form of a
low supplementary structure on the ridge. The ridge itself was
flat, and upon it grew a luxuriant mass of lilies. This roof was
unusually large and capacious.
At the place where the river Kitakami empties into the Bay of
Sendai, and where we left our boat in which we had come down
the river from Morioka, the houses were all of the olden-style,—a
number of these presenting some good examples of projecting
windows. Fig. 42 represents the front of a house in this place.
This shows a large gable-roof, with broad overhanging eaves in
front,—the ends of the rafters projecting to support the eaves and
the transverse-beams of the gable ends being equally in sight.
The projecting window, which might perhaps be called a bay,
runs nearly the entire length of the gable. The panels in the
frieze were of dark wood, and bore perforated designs of pine [60]
and bamboo alternating.
56 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

The larger houses of this description are always inns. They

usually abut directly upon the road, and have an open appearance
and an air of hospitality about them which at once indicates their
character. One encounters such places so frequently in Japan,
that travelling in the interior is rendered a matter of ease and
comfort as compared with similar experiences in neighboring
countries. The larger number of these inns in the north are of
one-story, though many may be seen that are two-storied. Very
rarely does a three-storied building occur. Fig. 43 represents one
of this nature, that was seen in a small village north of Sendai.

Fig. 42.—Bay Window, Village of Odzuka, Rikuzen.

Fig. 43.—Three-storied House in Rikuchiu.

CHAPTER II. TYPES OF HOUSES. 57

Houses of the better classes stand back from the road, and have
bordering the road high and oftentimes ponderous ridged walls,
with gateways of similar proportions and character, or fences
of various kinds with rustic gateways. Long, low out-buildings, [61]
for servants' quarters, also often form portions of the boundary
wall. In the denser part of larger cities it is rare to find an
old house,—the devastating conflagrations that so often sweep
across the cities rendering the survival of old houses almost
an impossibility. In the suburbs of cities and in the country,
however, it is not difficult to find houses one hundred, and even
two or three hundred years old. The houses age as rapidly as the
people, and new houses very soon turn gray from the weather;
the poorer class of houses in particular appear much older than
they really are.

Fig. 44.—Street in the Suburbs of Morioka.

In entering Morioka, at the head of navigation on the Kitakami

River, the long street presents a remarkably pretty appearance,
with its odd low-roofed houses (fig. 44), each standing with its
end to the street,—the peak of the thatched roof overhanging the
smoke-outlet like a hood. The street is bordered by a high, rustic,
bamboo fence; and between the houses are little plats filled
with bright-colored flowers, and shrubbery clustering within the
fences, even sending its sprays into the footpath bordering the
road. [62]
The country house of an independent samurai, or rich farmer,
is large, roomy, and thoroughly comfortable. I recall with the
 58 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

keenest pleasure the delightful days enjoyed under the roof of

one of these typical mansions in Kabutoyama, in the western part
of the province of Musashi. The residence consisted of a group
of buildings shut in from the road by a high wall. Passing through
a ponderous gateway, one enters a spacious court-yard, flanked
on either side by long, low buildings used as store-houses and
servants' quarters. At the farther end of the yard, and facing the
entrance, was a comfortable old farmhouse, having a projecting
gable-wing to its right (fig. 45). The roof was a thatched one
of unusual thickness. At the end of the wing was a triangular
latticed opening, from which thin blue wreaths of smoke were
curling. This building contained a few rooms, including an
unusually spacious kitchen,—a sketch of which is given farther
on. The kitchen opened directly into a larger and unfinished
[63] portion of the house, having the earth for its floor, and used
as a wood-shed. The owner informed me that the farm-house
was nearly three hundred years old. To the left of the building
was a high wooden fence, and passing through a gateway one
came into a smaller yard and garden. In this area was another
house quite independent of the farmhouse; this was the house
for guests. Its conspicuous feature consisted of a newly-thatched
roof, surmounted by an elaborate and picturesque ridge,—its
design derived from temple architecture. Within were two large
rooms opening upon a narrow verandah. These rooms were un-
usually high in stud, and the mats and all the appointments were
most scrupulously clean. Communication with the old house was
by means of a covered passage. Back of this dwelling, and some
distance from it, was still another house, two stories in height,
and built in the most perfect taste; and here lived the grandfather
of the family,—a fine old gentleman, dignified and courtly in his
manners.
The farm-house yard presented all the features of similar areas
at home. A huge pile of wood cut for the winter's supply was
piled up against the L. Basket-like coops, rakes, and the custom-
CHAPTER II. TYPES OF HOUSES. 59

Fig. 45.—Old Farm-house in Kabutoyama.

ary utensils of a farmer's occupation were scattered about. The

sketch of this old house gives but a faint idea of the massive
and top-heavy appearance of the roof, or of the large size of the
building. The barred windows below, covered by a narrow tiled
roof, were much later additions to the structure.
In the city houses of the better class much care is often taken to
make the surroundings appear as rural as possible, by putting here
and there quaint old wells, primitive and rustic arbors, fences,
and gateways. The gateways receive special attention in this
way, and the oddest of entrances are often seen in thickly-settled
parts of large cities.
Houses with thatched roofs, belonging to the wealthiest class-
es, are frequently seen in the suburbs of Tokio and Kioto, and,
strange as it may appear, even within the city proper. One
might be led to suppose that such roofs would quickly fall a [64]
prey to the sparks of a conflagration; but an old thatched roof
gets compacted with dust and soot to such an extent that plants
and weeds of various kinds, and large clumps of mosses, are
often seen flourishing in luxuriance upon such surfaces, offering
a good protection against flying sparks. In Kioto we recall a
house of this description which was nearly three centuries old;
and since we made sketches of its appearance from the street,
from just within the gateway, and from the rear, we will describe
these views in sequence.
 60 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 46.—Entrance to Court-yard of Old House in Kioto.

The first view, then (fig. 46), is from the street, and represents
a heavily-roofed gateway, with a smaller gateway at the side.
The big gates had been removed, and the little gateway was
permanently closed. This ponderous structure was flanked on
one side by a low stretch of buildings, plastered on the outside,
having small barred windows on the street, and a barred look-out
commanding the gateway both outside and within. On the other
side of the gateway was a high, thick wall, also furnished with
[65] a window or lookout. The outer walls rose directly from the
wall forming the gutter, or, more properly speaking, a diminutive
moat that ran along the side of the street. Blocks of worked stone
formed a bridge across this moat, by which access was gained to
the enclosure. The old dwelling, with its sharp-ridged roof, may
be seen above the buildings just described.
Fig. 47 represents the appearance of this old house from
just within the gateway. The barred window to the left of the
sketch may be seen through the open gateway in fig. 46, and
the tree which showed over the top of the gateway in that sketch
is now in full view. The old house has a thatched roof with a
remarkably steep pitch, surmounted by a ridge of tiles; a narrow
tiled roof runs about the house directly below the eaves of the
thatched roof. Suspended below this roof is seen a ladder and
fire-engine, to be ready in case of emergency. The truth must
CHAPTER II. TYPES OF HOUSES. 61

Fig. 47.—Old house in Kioto. Court-yard view.

be told, however, that these domestic engines are never ready; [66]
for when they are wanted, it is found that the square cylinders
are so warped and cracked by the hot summers that when they
are brought into action their chief accomplishment consists in
squirting water through numerous crevices upon the men who
are frantically endeavoring to make these engines do their duty
properly.

Fig. 48.—Old House in Kioto, Garden View.

 62 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

The yard was well swept, and quite free from weeds, though
at one side a number of shrubs and a banana tree were growing
in a luxuriant tangle. A single tree, of considerable age, rose
directly in a line with the entrance to the yard.
The house, like all such houses, had its uninteresting end to-
ward the street; and here, attached to the house, was a “lean-to,”
[67] or shed, with a small circular window. This was probably a
kitchen, as a gateway is seen in the sketch, which led to the
kitchen-garden.
In Fig. 48 a sketch of this house is given from the garden in
the rear. The house is quite open behind, and looks out on the
garden and fish-pond, which is seen in the foreground. The tiled
roof which covers the verandah, and the out-buildings as well,
was a subsequent addition to the old house. The sole occupants
consisted of the mother and maiden sister of the famous anti-
quarian Ninagawa Noritani. The garden, with its shrubs, plats
of flowers, stepping-stones leading to the fish-pond filled with
lotus and lilies, and the bamboo trellis, is a good specimen of an
old garden upon which but little care has been bestowed.
In the cities nothing is more surprising to a foreigner than to
go from the dust and turmoil of a busy street directly into a rustic
yard and the felicity of quiet country life. On one of the busy
streets of Tokio I had often passed a low shop, the barred front
of which was never opened to traffic, nor was there ever any one
present with whom to deal. I used often to peer between the bars;
and from the form of the wooden boxes on the step-like shelves
within, I knew that the occupant was a dealer in old pottery. One
day I called through the bars several times, and finally a man
pushed back the screen in the rear of the shop and bade me come
in by way of a narrow alley a little way up the street. This I did,
and soon came to a gate that led me into one of the neatest and
cleanest little gardens it is possible to imagine. The man was
evidently just getting ready for a tea-party, and, as is customary
in winter, the garden had been liberally strewn with pine-needles,
CHAPTER II. TYPES OF HOUSES. 63

which had then been neatly swept from the few paths and formed
in thick mats around some of the shrubs and trees. The master
had already accosted me from the verandah, and after bringing
the customary hibachi, over which I warmed my hands, and tea
and cake, he brought forth some rare old pottery. [68]

Fig. 49.—House in Tokio.

The verandah and a portion of this house as it appeared from

the garden are given in fig. 49. At the end of the verandah is
seen a narrow partition, made out of the planks of an old ship; it [69]
is secured to the side of the house by a huge piece of bamboo.
One is greatly interested to see how curiously, and oftentimes
artistically, the old worm-eaten and blackened fragments of a
shipwreck are worked into the various parts of a house,—this
 64 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

being an odd fancy of the Japanese house-builder. Huge and ir-

regular-shaped logs will often form the cross-piece to a gateway;
rudder-posts fixed in the ground form the support of bronze or
pottery vessels to hold water. But fragments of a shipwreck are
most commonly seen. This wood is always rich in color, and has
an antique appearance,—these qualities commending it at once
to the Japanese eye, and rendering it, with its associations, an
attractive object for their purposes.
In the house above mentioned a portion of a vessel's side or
bottom had been used bodily for a screen at the end of the ve-
randah,—for just beyond was the latrine, from the side of which
is seen jutting another wing, consisting of a single weatherworn
plank bordered by a bamboo-post. This was a screen to shut out
the kitchen-yard beyond. Various stepping-stones of irregular
shape, as well as blackened planks, were arranged around the
yard in picturesque disorder. The sketch conveys, with more or
less accuracy, one of the many phases of Japanese taste in these
matters.
The wood-work from the rafters of the verandah roof above,
to the planks below, was undefiled by oil, paint, wood-filling,
or varnish of any kind. The carpentry was light, yet durable and
thoroughly constructive; while outside and inside every feature
was as neat and clean as a cabinet. The room bordering this
verandah is shown in fig. 125.
Fig. 50 gives a view from the L of a gentleman's house in
Tokio, from which was seen the houses and gardens of the neigh-
borhood. The high and close fence borders a roadway which
runs along the bank of the Sumida-gawa. A short fence of brush
[70] juts out obliquely from the latrine, and forms a screen between
the house and the little gate. From this sketch some idea may be
formed of the appearance of the balcony and verandah, and how
well they are protected by the overhanging roofs.
The inns, particularly the country inns, have a most cosey and
comfortable air about them. One always has the freedom of the
CHAPTER II. TYPES OF HOUSES. 65

Fig. 50.—View from the Second Story of Dwelling in Imado,

Tokio.

entire place; at least a foreigner generally makes himself at home

everywhere about the public houses, and in this respect impress [71]
a Japanese with his boorish ways, since the native guests usually
keep to their own rooms. The big, capacious kitchen, with its
smoke-blackened rafters overhead, its ruddy glow of wood-fire
(a sight rarely seen in the cities, where charcoal is the principal
fuel), and the family busy with their various domestic duties, is
a most cosey and agreeable region.
On the ride across Yezo, from Otarunai to Mororan, one
passes a number of inns of the most ample proportions; and
their present deserted appearance contrasts strangely with their
former grandeur, when the Daimio of the province, accompanied
by swarms of samurai and other attendants, made his annual
pilgrimage to the capital.
At Mishima, in the province of Suruga, a curious old inn was
seen (fig. 51). The second story overhung the first story in
 66 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 51.—Old Inn in Mishima, Suruga.

[72] front, and the eaves were very widely-projecting. At the sides of
the building a conspicuous feature was the verge boards, which
were very large, with their lower margins cut in curious sweeps.
This may have been intended for an architectural adornment, or
possibly for a wind or sun screen; at all events it was, as we
saw it, associated with buildings of considerable antiquity. In
the middle and southern provinces of Japan the feature of an
over-hanging second story is by no means uncommon.

Fig. 52.—Village Street in Nasaike, Yamashiro.

CHAPTER II. TYPES OF HOUSES. 67

A group of houses in a village street is shown in fig. 52. The

nearest house is a resting-place for travellers; the next is a can-
dle-shop, where the traveller and jinrikisha man may replenish
their lanterns; the third is a jinrikisha stand, and beyond this is
a light board-structure of some kind. All of these are dwellings
as well. This street was in the village of Nagaike, between Nara
and Kioto.
The country houses on the east coast of Kagoshima Gulf, in
the province of Osumi, as well as in the province of Satsuma,
have thatched roofs of ponderous proportions, while the walls
supporting them are very low. These little villages along the
coast present a singular aspect, as one distinguishes only the high [73]
and thick roofs. Fig. 53 is a sketch of Mototaru-midsu as from
the water, and fig. 54 represents the appearance of a group of
houses seen in the same village, which is on the road running
along the gulf coast of Osumi. The ridge is covered by a layer of
bamboo; and the ends of the ridge, where it joins the hip of the
roof, are guarded by a stout matting of bamboo and straw. In this
sketch a regular New England well-sweep is seen, though it is by
no means an uncommon object in other parts of Japan. Where
the well is under cover, the well-sweep is so arranged that the [74]
well-pole goes through a hole in the roof.

Fig. 53.—Shore of Osumi.

The fishermen's houses are oftentimes nothing more than the

roughest shelters from the elements, and being more closed than
the peasants' houses are consequently darker and dirtier. In the
neighborhood of larger towns, where the fishermen are more
prosperous, their houses compare favorably with those of the
68 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 54.—Farmer's Houses in Mototaru-Midsu, Osumi.

peasant class. Fig. 55 shows a group of fishermen's huts on the

neck of sand which connects Hakodate with the main island. The
high stockade fences act as barriers to the winds which blow so
furiously across the bar at certain seasons. Fig. 56 represents a
few fishermen's huts at Enoshima, a famous resort a little south
of Yokohama. Here the houses are comparatively large and
comfortable, though poor and dirty at best. The huge baskets
seen in the sketch are used to hold and transport fish from the
boat to the shore.

Fig. 55.—Fishermen's Huts in Hakodate.

Fig. 56.—Fishermen's Huts in Enoshima.

CHAPTER II. TYPES OF HOUSES. 69

In the city no outbuildings, such as sheds and barns, are

seen. Accompanying the houses of the better class are sol-
id, thick-walled, fire-proof buildings called kura, in which the
goods and chattels are stowed away in times of danger from
conflagrations. These buildings, which are known to the foreign-
er as “go-downs,” are usually two stories in height, and have
one or two small windows, and one door, closed by thick and
ponderous shutters. Such a building usually stands isolated from
the dwelling, and sometimes, though rarely, they are converted
into domiciles. Of such a character is the group of buildings in
Tokio represented in fig. 57, belonging to a genial antiquary, in
which he has stored a rare collection of old books, manuscripts,
paintings, and other antique objects.

Fig. 57.—Kura in Tokio.

Fig. 58.—Kura, or Fire-proof Buildings in Tokio.

 70 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 58, copied from a sketch made by Mr. S. Koyama,

represents another group of these buildings in Tokio. These kura
belonged to the famous antiquarian Ninagawa Noritani. In these [76]
buildings were stored his treasures of pottery and painting. Often
light wooden extensions are built around the kura, and in such
cases the family live in the outside apartments. An example of
this kind is shown in fig. 59, which is an old house in a poor
quarter of the city of Hakodate. The central portion represents
the two-storied kura, and around it is built an additional shelter
having a tiled roof. In case of fire the contents of the outer
rooms are hurriedly stowed within the fire-proof portion, the
door closed, and the crevices chinked with mud. These buildings
usually survive in the midst of a wide-spread conflagration, while
all the outer wooden additions are consumed. Further reference
will be made to these structures in other portions of the work.
It may be proper to state, however, that nearly every shop has
connected with it a fire-proof building of this nature.

Fig. 59.—Old House in Hakodate.

It hardly comes within the province of this work to describe

or figure buildings which are not strictly speaking homes; for
this reason no reference will be made to the monotonous rows
of buildings so common in Tokio, which form portions of the
[77] boundary-wall wall of the yashiki; and, indeed, had this been
desirable, it would have been somewhat difficult to find the ma-
terial, in their original condition, for study. Many of the yashikis
have been destroyed by fire; others have been greatly modified,
CHAPTER II. TYPES OF HOUSES. 71

and are now occupied by various Government departments. In

Tokio, for example, the yashiki of the Daimio of Kaga is used
by the educational department, the Mito yashiki for the man-
ufacture of war material, and still others are used for barracks
and other Government purposes. As one rides through the city
he often passes these yashikis, showing from the street as long
monotonous rows of buildings, generally two stories in height,
with heavy tiled roofs. The wall of the first story is generally
tiled or plastered. The second-story wall may be of wood or
plaster. This wall is perforated at intervals with small heavily-
barred windows or hanging bays. The entrance, composed of
stout beams, is closed by ponderous gates thickly studded with
what appear to be massive-headed bolts, but which are, however,
of fictitious solidity. The buildings rest on stone foundations
abutting directly on the street, or interrupted by a ditch which
often assumes the dignity of a castle moat. These buildings in
long stretches formed a portion of the outer walls of the yashikis
within which were the separate residences of the Daimios and
officers, while the buildings just alluded to were used by the
soldiers for barracks.
The great elaboration and variety in the form and structure
of the house-roof almost merit the dignity of a separate section.
For it is mainly to the roof that the Japanese house owes its
picturesque appearance; it is the roof which gives to the houses
that novelty and variety which is so noticeable among them in
different parts of the country. The lines of a well-made thatched
roof are something quite remarkable in their proportions. A great
deal of taste and skill is displayed in the proper trimming of the
eaves; and the graceful way in which the eaves of the gable are [78]
made to join the side eaves is always attractive and a noticeable
feature in Japanese architecture, and the admirable way in which
a variety of gables are made to unite with the main roof would
excite praise from the most critical architect.
The elaborate structure of the thatched and tiled roofs, and
 72 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

the great variety in the design and structure of the ridges show
what might be done by a Japanese architect if other portions of
the house-exterior received an equal amount of ingenuity and
attention.
Japanese roofs are either shingled, thatched, or tiled. In the
country, tiled roofs are the exception, the roofs being almost
exclusively thatched,—though in the smaller houses, especially
in the larger country villages, the shingled and tiled roofs are
often seen. In the larger towns and cities the houses are usually
tiled; yet even here shingled roofs are not uncommon, and though
cheaper than the tiled roofs, are by no means confined to the
poorer houses. In the suburbs, and even in the outskirts of the
cities, thatched roofs are common: in such cases the thatched
roof indicates either the presence of what was at one time an
old farm-house to which the city has extended, or else it is the
house of a gentleman who prefers such a roof on account of its
picturesqueness and the suggestions of rural life that go with it.
The usual form of the roof is generally that of a hip or gable.
In the thatched roof, the portion coming directly below the ridge-
pole is in the form of a gable, and this blends into a hip-roof.
A curb-roof is never seen. Among the poorer classes a simple
pent roof is common; and additions or attachments to the main
building are generally covered with a pent roof. A light, narrow,
supplementary roof is often seen projecting just below the eaves
of the main roof; it is generally made of wide thin boards (fig.
[79] 60). This roof is called hisashi. It commonly shelters from the
sun and rain an open portion of the house or a verandah. It
is either supported by uprights from the ground, or by slender
brackets which are framed at right angles to the main uprights
of the building proper. Weak and even flimsy as this structure
often appears to be, it manages to support itself, in violation of
all known laws of structure and gravitation. After a heavy fall
of damp snow one may see thick accumulations covering these
slight roofs, and yet a ride through the city reveals no evidences
CHAPTER II. TYPES OF HOUSES. 73

of their breaking down. One recalls similar structures at home

yielding under like pressure, and wonders whether gravitation
behaves differently in this land of anomalies.

Fig. 60.—Hisashi.

In the ordinary shingled roof a light boarding is first nailed

to the rafters, and upon this the shingles are secured in close
courses. The shingles are always split, and are very thin,—being
about the thickness of an ordinary octavo book-cover, and not
much larger in size, and having the same thickness throughout.
They come in square bunches (fig. 61, A), each bunch containing
about two hundred and twenty shingles, and costing about forty
cents.
Bamboo pins, resembling attenuated shoe-pegs, are used as
shingle-nails. The shingler takes a mouthful of these pegs, and
with quick motions works precisely and in the same rapid manner
as a similar class of workmen do at home. The shingler's hammer
is a curious implement (fig. 61, B, C). The iron portion is in the
shape of a square block, with its roughened face nearly on a level
with its handle. Near the end of the handle, and below, is inserted [80]
an indented strip of brass (fig. 61, B). The shingler in grasping
the handle brings the thumb and forfinger opposite the strip of
brass; he takes a peg from his mouth with the same hand with
which he holds the hammer, and with the thumb and forefinger
holding the peg against the brass strip (fig. 62), he forces it
into the shingle by a pushing blow. By this movement the peg
is forced half-way down; an oblique blow is then given it with
the hammer-head, which bends the protruding portion of the peg
against the shingle,—this broken-down portion representing the
 74 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

head of our shingle-nail. The bamboo being tough and fibrous

can easily be broken down without separating. In this way is
the shingle held to the roof. The hammer-handle has marked
[81] upon it the smaller divisions of a carpenter's measure, so that the
courses of shingles may be properly aligned. The work is done
very rapidly,—for with one hand the shingle is adjusted, while
the other hand is busily driving the pegs.

Fig. 61.—Bunch of shingles, nails, and hammer.

Fig. 62.—Shingler's Hand.

CHAPTER II. TYPES OF HOUSES. 75

Fig. 63.—Bamboo Strips on Shingle-Roof.

That the shingles are not always held firmly to the roof by
this method of shingling is seen in the fact that oftentimes long
narrow strips of bamboo are nailed obliquely across the roof,
from the ridge-pole to the eaves (fig. 63). These strips are placed
at the distance of eighteen inches or two feet apart. Yet even in
spite of this added precaution, in violent gales the roof is often
rapidly denuded of its shingles, which fill the air at such times
like autumn leaves.
Fig. 64, A, represents a portion of a shingled roof with courses
of shingles partially laid, and a shingler's nail-box held to the
roof. The box has two compartments,—the larger compartment
holding the bamboo pegs; and the smaller containing iron nails,
used for nailing down the boards and for other purposes.
There are other methods of shingling, in which the courses of
shingles are laid very closely together, and also in many layers.
Remarkable examples of this method may be seen in some of
the temple roofs, and particularly in the roofs of certain temple
gateways in Kioto, where layers of the thinnest shingles, forming
a mass a foot or more in thickness, are compactly laid, with the
many graceful contours of the roof delicately preserved. The
edges of the roof are beautifully rounded, and the eaves squarely
and accurately trimmed. On seeing one of these roofs one is [82]
reminded of a thatched roof, which this style seems evidently
intended to imitate. The rich brown bark of the hi-no-ki tree is
also used in a similar way; and a very compact and durable roof
it appears to make. In better shingled house-roofs it is customary
to secure a wedge-shaped piece of wood parallel to the eaves, to
76 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

which the first three or four rows of shingles are nailed; other
courses of shingles are then laid on very closely, and thus a
thicker layer of shingles is secured (fig. 64, B).

Fig. 64.—Roof with shingles partly laid.

But little variety of treatment of the ridge is seen in a shingled

roof. Two narrow weather-strips of wood nailed over the ridge
answer the purpose of a joint, as is customary in our shingled
roofs. A more thorough way is to nail thin strips of wood of a
uniform length directly over the ridge and at right angles to it.
These strips are thin enough to bend readily. Five or six layers
are fastened in this way, and then, more firmly to secure them to
the roof, two long narrow strips of wood or bamboo are nailed
near the two edges of this mass, parallel to the ridge (fig. 65).

Fig. 65.—Ridge on shingle-roof in Musashi.

CHAPTER II. TYPES OF HOUSES. 77

The shingled roof is the most dangerous element of house-

structure in the cities. The shingles are nothing more than thick
shavings, and curved and warped by the sun are ready to spring
into a blaze by the contact of the first spark that falls upon them,
and then to be sent flying by a high wind to scatter the fire for
miles. A very stringent law should be passed, prohibiting the use
of such material for roofing in cities and large villages.

Fig. 66.—Water-conductor.

The usual form of gutter for conveying water from the roof
consists of a large bamboo split lengthwise, with the natural
partitions broken away. This is held to the eaves by iron hooks,
or by long pieces of wood nailed to the rafters,—their upper
edges being notched, in which the bamboo rests. This leads to
a conductor, consisting also of a bamboo, in which the natural
partitions have likewise been broken through. The upper end of
this bamboo is cut away in such a manner as to leave four long
spurs; between these spurs a square and tapering tunnel of thin
wood is forced,—the elasticity of the bamboo holding the tunnel
in place (fig. 66). [84]
Attention has so often been drawn, in books of travels, to the
infinite variety of ways in which Eastern nations use the bamboo,
 78 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

that any reference to the subject here would be superfluous. I

can only say that the importance of this wonderful plant in their
domestic economy has never been exaggerated. The more one
studies the ethnographical peculiarities of the Japanese, as dis-
played in their houses, utensils, and countless other fabrications,
the more fully is he persuaded that they could more easily sur-
render the many devices and appliances adopted from European
nations, than to abandon the ubiquitous bamboo.
In tiling a roof, the boarded roof is first roughly and thinly
shingled, and upon this surface is then spread a thick layer of
mud, into which the tiles are firmly bedded. The mud is scooped
up from some ditch or moat, and is also got from the canals.
In the city one often sees men getting the mud for this purpose
from the deep gutters which border many of the streets. This
is kneaded and worked with hoe and spade till it acquires the
consistency of thick dough. In conveying this mass to the roof
no hod is used. The material is worked into large lumps by the
laborer, and these are tossed, one after another, to a man who
stands on a staging or ladder, who in turn pitches it to the man on
the roof, or, if the roof be high, to another man on a still higher
staging. The mud having been got to the roof, is then spread over
it in a thick and even layer. Into this the tiles are then bedded,
row after row. There seems to be no special adhesion of the tiles
to this substratum of mud, and high gales often cause great havoc
to a roof of this nature. In the case of a conflagration, when it
becomes necessary to tear down buildings in its path, the firemen
appear to have no difficulty in shovelling the tiles off a roof with
[85] ease and rapidity.
The ridge-pole often presents an imposing combination of
tiles and plaster piled up in square ridges and in many orna-
mental ways. In a hip-roof the four ridges are also made thick
and ponderous by successive layers of tiles being built up, and
forming great square ribs. In large fire-proof buildings the ridge
may be carried up to a height of three or four feet. In such
CHAPTER II. TYPES OF HOUSES. 79

Fig. 67.—Ridge of tiled roof.

ridges white plaster is freely used, not only as a cement, but

as a medium in which the artist works out various designs in
high-relief. One of the most favorite subjects selected is that of
dashing and foaming waves. A great deal of art and skill is often
displayed in the working out of this design,—which is generally
very conventional, though at times great freedom of expression
is shown in the work. It certainly seems an extraordinary design
for the crest of a roof, though giving a very light and buoyant
appearance to what would otherwise appear top-heavy. Fig. 67
is a very poor sketch of the appearance of this kind of a ridge.
From the common occurrence of this design, it would seem as
if some sentiment or superstition led to using this watery subject
as suggesting a protection from fire; whether this be so or not,
one may often notice at the end of the ridge in the thatched roofs
in the country the Chinese character for water deeply cut in the [86]
straw and blackened (fig. 82),—and this custom, I was told,
originated in a superstition that the character for water afforded
a protection against fire.

Fig. 68.—Ornamental coping of tiles.

 80 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 69.—Ornamental coping of tiles.

Fig. 70.—Ornamental coping of tiles.

The tiled ridges always terminate in a shouldered mass of tiles

specially designed for the purpose. The smaller ribs of tiles that
run down to the eaves, along the ridges in a hip-roof, or border
the verge in a gable-roof, often terminate in some ornamental tile
[87] in high-relief. The design may be that of a mask, the head of a
devil, or some such form. In the heavier ridges much ingenuity
and art are shown in the arrangement of semi-cylindrical or
other shaped tiles in conventional pattern. Figs. 68, 69, 70 will
illustrate some of the designs made in this way. These figures,
however, represent copings of walls in Yamato.
Many of the heavier ridges are deceptive, the main body
consisting of a frame of wood plastered over, and having the
appearance externally of being a solid mass of tile and plaster
The tiles that border the eaves are specially designed for the
purpose. The tile has the form of the ordinary tile, but its free
edge is turned down at right angles and ornamented with some
conventional design. Fig. 71 illustrates this form of tile. In the
long panel a design of flowers or conventional scrolls in relief is
often seen. The circular portion generally contains the crest of
some family: the crest of the Tokugawa family is rarely seen on
tiles (see fig. 73).
In the better class of tiled roof it is common to point off with
CHAPTER II. TYPES OF HOUSES. 81

white mortar the joints between the rows of tiles near the eaves,
and also next the ridge; and oftentimes the entire roof is treated
in this manner. In some photographs of Korean houses taken by
Percival Lowell, Esq., the same method of closing the seams of
the bordering rows of tiles with white plaster is shown.

Fig. 71.—Eaves of tiled roof.

The older a tile is, the better it is considered for roofing

purposes. My attention was called to this fact by a friend stating
to me with some pride that the tiles used in his house, just con- [88]
structed, were over forty years old. Second-hand tiles therefore
are always in greater demand. A new tile, being very porous
and absorbent, is not considered so good as one in which time
has allowed the dust and dirt to fill the minute interstices, thus
rendering it a better material for shedding water.

Fig. 72.—Nagasaki tiled roof.

 82 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

A tiled roof cannot be very expensive, as one finds it very

common in the cities and larger villages. The price of good tiles
for roofing purposes is five yen for one hundred (one yen at par
equals one dollar). Cheap ones can be got for from two and one-
half yen to three yen for one hundred. In another measurement, a
tsulo of tiles, which covers an area of six feet square; can be laid
for from two and one-half to three yen. The form of tile varies
in different parts of Japan. The tile in common use in Nagasaki
[89] (fig. 72, A) is similar in form to those used in China, Korea,
Singapore, and Europe. These tiles are slightly curved, and are
laid with their convex surface downwards. Another form of tile,
narrower and semi-cylindrical in section, is laid with its convex
side upwards, covering the seams between the lower rows of
tiles.

Fig. 73.—Hon-gawara, or True Tile.

Fig. 74.—Yedo-gawara, or Yedo-tile eaves.

This is evidently the most ancient form of tile in the East, and
in Japan is known by the name of hon-gawara, or true tile. Fig.
73 represents the form of the hon-gawara used in Tokio.
CHAPTER II. TYPES OF HOUSES. 83

Fig. 75.—French tile eaves.

The most common form of tile used in Tokio is represented in

fig. 71, called the yedo-gawara, or yedo tile. With this tile the
upper convex tile is dispensed with, as the tile is constructed in
such a way as to lap over the edge of the one next to it. Fig. 74
illustrates the eaves of a roof in which a yedo tile is used, having
the bordering tiles differing in form from those shown in fig. 71.
A modification of this form is seen farther south in Japan (fig.
72, B), and also in Java.

Fig. 76.—Itami tile for ridge.

A new form of tile, called the French tile, has been introduced
into Tokio within a few years (fig. 75). It is not in common
use, however; and I can recall only a few buildings roofed with
this tile. These are the warehouses of the Mitsu Bishi Steamship [90]
Company near the post-office, a building back of the Art Museum
at Uyeno, and a few private houses.
Other forms of tiles are made for special purposes. In the
province of Iwami, for example, a roof-shaped tile is made spe-
cially for covering the ridge of thatched roofs (fig. 76, A). The
true tile is also used for the same purpose (fig. 76, B).
In this province the tiles are glazed,—the common tiles being
covered with a brown glaze, while the best tiles are glazed with
 84 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

iron sand. In digging the foundations for a library building at

Uyeno Park, a number of large glazed tiles were dug up which
were supposed to have been brought from the province of Bizen
two hundred years ago. These were of the hon-gawara pattern.

Fig. 77.—Stone roof.

In the province of Shimotsuke, and doubtless in adjacent

provinces, stone kura (fire-proof store-houses) are seen; and
these buildings often have roofs of the same material. The stone
appears to be a light-gray volcanic tufa, and is easily wrought.
The slabs of stone covering the roof are wrought into definite
shapes, so that the successive rows overlap and interlock in a way
that gives the appearance of great solidity and strength. Fig. 77
illustrates a portion of a roof of this description seen on the road
to Nikko. I was told by a Korean friend that stone roofs were
also to be found in the northern part of Korea, though whether
[91] made in this form could not be ascertained.
The thatched roof is by far the most common form of roof in
Japan, outside the cities. The slopes of the roof vary but little;
but in the design and structure of the ridge the greatest variety of
treatment is seen. South of Tokio each province seems to have
its own peculiar style of ridge; at least, as the observant traveller
passes from one province to another his attention is attracted by
a new form of ridge, which though occasionally seen in other
provinces appears to be characteristic of that particular province.
This is probably due to the partially isolated life of the provinces
in feudal times; for the same may be said also in regard to the
pottery and many other products of the provinces.
CHAPTER II. TYPES OF HOUSES. 85

For thatching, various materials are employed. For the com-

monest thatching, straw is used; better kinds of thatch are made
of a grass called Kaya. A kind of reed called yoshi is used for this
purpose, and also certain species of rush. The roof requires no
special preparation to receive the thatch, save that the rafters and
frame-work shall be close enough together properly to secure
and support it. If the roof be small, a bamboo frame-work is
sufficient for the purpose.
The thatch is formed in suitable masses, combed with the
fingers and otherwise arranged so that the straws all point in the
same direction. These masses are then secured to the rafters and
bound down to the roof by bamboo poles (fig. 78, A), which
are afterwards removed. While the thatch is bound down in this
way it is beaten into place by a wooden mallet of peculiar shape
(fig. 78, B). The thatch is then trimmed into shape by a pair of
long-handled shears (fig. 78, C) similar to the shears used for
trimming grass in our country.
This is only the barest outline of the process of thatching; there
are doubtless many other processes which I did not see. Suffice
it to say, however, that when a roof is finished it presents a clean,
trim, and symmetrical appearance, which seems surprising when [92]
the nature of the material is considered. The eaves are trimmed
off square or slightly rounding, and often very thick,—being
sometimes two feet or more in thickness. This does not indicate,
however, that the thatch is of the same thickness throughout. The
thatch trimmed in these various ways is thus seen in section, and
one will often notice in this section successive layers of light and
dark thatch. Whether it is old thatch worked in with the new for
the sake economy, or different kinds of thatching material, I did
not ascertain.
In old roofs the thatch becomes densely filled with soot and
dust, and workmen engaged in repairing such roofs have the
appearance of coal-heavers. While a good deal of skill and
patience is required to thatch a roof evenly and properly, vastly
 86 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

more skill must be required to finish the ridge, which is often

very intricate in its structure; and of these peculiar ridges there
[93] are a number of prominent types. In presenting these types, more
reliance will be placed on the sketches to convey a general idea
of their appearance than on descriptions.

Fig. 78.—Thatch, and thatcher's implements.

In that portion of Japan lying north of Tokio the ridge is

much more simple in its construction than are those found in the
southern part of the Empire. The roofs are larger, but their ridges,
with some exceptions, do not show the artistic features, or that
variety in form and appearance, that one sees in the ridges of the
southern thatched roof. In many cases the ridge is flat, and this
area is made to support a luxuriant growth of iris, or the red lily
(fig. 41). A most striking feature is often seen in the appearance
of a brown sombre-colored village, wherein all the ridges are
aflame with the bright-red blossoms of the lily; or farther south,
near Tokio, where the purer colors of the blue and white iris form
floral crests of exceeding beauty.
In some cases veritable ridge-poles, with their ends freely
projecting beyond the gable and wrought in a gentle upward
curve, are seen (fig. 39). This treatment of the free ends of beams
in ridge-poles, gateways, and other structures, notably in certain
CHAPTER II. TYPES OF HOUSES. 87

Fig. 79.—End of roof in Fujita, Iwaki.

forms of tori-i9 is a common feature in Japanese architecture,

and is effective in giving a light and buoyant appearance to what
might otherwise appear heavy and commonplace.
At Fujita, in Iwaki, and other places in that region, a roof is
often seen which shows the end of a round ridge-pole projecting [94]
through the thatch at the gable-peak; and at this point a flat
spur of wood springs up from the ridge, to which is attached, at
right angles, a structure made of plank and painted black, which
projects two feet or more beyond the gable. This appears to be a
survival of an exterior ridge-pole, and is retained from custom.
Its appearance, however, is decidedly flimsy and insecure, and
from its weak mode of attachment it must be at the mercy of
every high gale (fig. 79). After getting south of Sendai, ridges
composed of tile are often to be seen,—becoming more common
as one approaches Tokio. The construction of this kind of ridge
is very simple and effective; semi-cylindrical tiles, or the wider
forms of hon-gawara, are used for the crest, and these in turn
cap a row of similar tiles placed on either side of the ridge (fig.
80). The tiles appear to be bedded in a layer of clay or mud and
chopped straw, which is first piled on to the thatched ridge. In
some cases a large bamboo holds the lower row of tiles in place
(fig. 81). What other means there are of holding the tiles I did
not learn. They must be fairly secure, however, as it is rare to see
them displaced, even in old roofs.
9
A structure of stone or wood, not unlike the naked frame-work of a gate,
erected in front of shrines and temples.
 88 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 80.—Tiled ridge of thatched roof in Iwaki.

Fig. 81.—Tiled ridge of thatched roof in Musashi.

A very neat and durable ridge (fig. 82) is common in Musashi

[95] and neighboring provinces. This ridge is widely rounded. It is
first covered with a layer of small bamboos; then narrow bands
of bamboo or bark are bent over the ridge at short intervals, and
these are kept in place by long bamboo-strips or entire bamboos,
which run at intervals parallel to the ridge. These are firmly
bound down to the thatch. In some cases these outer bamboos
form a continuous layer. The ends of the ridge, showing a mass
of projecting thatch in section, are abruptly cut vertically, and
the free border is rounded in a bead-like moulding and closely
bound by bamboo, appearing like the edge of a thick basket. This
finish is done in the most thorough and workman-like manner. It
is upon the truncate end of this kind of a ridge that the Chinese
character for water is often seen, allusion to which has already
been made.

Fig. 82.—Bamboo-ridge of thatched roof in Musashi.

CHAPTER II. TYPES OF HOUSES. 89

When there is no window at the end of the roof for the egress
of smoke, the roof comes under the class of hip-roofs. In the
northern provinces the opening for the smoke is built in various
ways upon the ridge or side of the roof. By referring to figs. 39,
40, 41, various methods of providing for this window may be
seen.
Smoke-outlets do occur at the ends of the roof in the north, as
may be seen by referring to fig. 44. The triangular opening for the
outlet of smoke is a characteristic feature of the thatched roofs [96]
south of Tokio; on some of them a great deal of study and skill is
bestowed by the architect and builder. Sometimes an additional
gable is seen, with its triangular window (fig. 83). This sketch
represents the roof of a gentleman's house near Tokio, and is
a most beautiful example of the best form of thatched roof in
Musashi. Another grand old roof of a different type is shown in
fig. 84. Where these triangular windows occur the opening is
protected by a lattice of wood. The roof partakes of the double
nature of a gable and hip roof combined,—the window being [97]
in the gable part, from the base of which runs the slope of the
hip-roof.

Fig. 83.—Thatched Roof, near Tokio.10

 90 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Great attention is given to the proper and symmetrical trim-

ming of the thatch at the eaves and at the edges of the gable.
By referring to figs. 83 and 84 some idea may be got of the
clever way in which this is managed. Oftentimes, at the peak of
the gable, a cone-like enlargement with a circular depression is
curiously shaped out of the thatch (fig. 84). A good deal of skill
is also shown in bringing the thick edges of the eaves, which are
on different levels, together in graceful curves. An example of
this kind may be seen in fig. 39.

Fig. 84.—Thatched roof, near Tokio.

In Musashi a not uncommon form of ridge is seen, in which

there is an external ridge-pole wrought like the upper transverse
beam of a tori-i. This beam has a vertical thickness of twice or
three times its width; resting transversely upon it, and at short
intervals, are a number of wooden structures shaped like the letter
[98] X,—the lower ends of these pieces resting on the slopes of the
roof, the upper ends projecting above the ridgepole. The ridge at
this point is matted with bark; and running parallel with the ridge
a few bamboos are fastened, upon which these cross-beams rest,
and to which they are secured (fig. 45).
Modifications of this form of ridge occur in a number of south-
ern provinces, and ridges very similar to this I saw in Saigon and
Cholon, in Anam. The curious Shin-tM temple, at Kamijiyama, in
Ise, said to be modelled after very ancient types of roof, has the
end-rafters of the gable continuing through the roof and beyond
CHAPTER II. TYPES OF HOUSES. 91

the peak to a considerable distance. It was interesting to see

precisely the same features in some of the Malay houses in the
neighborhood of Singapore. In Musashi, and farther south, a
ridge is seen of very complex structure,—the entire ridge form-
ing a kind of supplementary roof, its edges thick and squarely
trimmed, and presenting the appearance of a smaller roof having
been made independently and dropped upon the large roof like
a saddle. This style of roof, with many modifications, is very
common in Yamashiro, Mikawa, and neighboring provinces. A
very elaborate roof of this description is shown in fig. 85. This [99]
roof was sketched in Kabutoyama, a village nearly fifty miles
west of Tokio. In this ridge the appearance of a supplemen-
tary roof is rendered more apparent by the projection beneath
of what appears to be a ridge-pole, and also parallel sticks of
the roof proper. This roof had a remarkably picturesque and
substantial appearance. This style of roof is derived from temple
architecture.

Fig. 85.—Ridge of thatched roof at Kabutoyama, Musashi.

A very simple form of ridge is common in the province of

Omi; this is made of thin pieces of board, three feet or more in
length, secured on each slope of the roof and at right angles to
the ridge; and these are bound down by long strips of wood, two
resting across the ridge, and another strip resting on the lower
edge of the boards (fig. 86). In the provinces of Omi and Owari
tiled ridges are often seen, and some ridges in which wood and
tile are combined. At Takatsuki-mura, in Setsu, a curious ridge
 92 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

prevails. The ridge is very steep, and is covered by a close mat

of bamboo, with saddles of tiles placed at intervals along the
ridge (fig. 87). A very picturesque form of ridge occurs in the
province of Mikawa; the roof is a hip-roof, with the ridge-roof
having a steep slope trimmed off squarely at the eaves. On this
portion strips of brown bark are placed across the ridge, resting
on the slopes of the roof; a number of bamboos rest on the bark,
parallel to the ridge; on the top of these, stout, semi-cylindrical
saddles, sometimes sheathed with bark, rest across the ridge,
[100] with an interspace of three or four feet between them. Fig. 88
represents a roof with three of these saddles, which is the usual
number. These saddles are firmly bound to the roof, and on their
crests and directly over the ridge a long bamboo is secured by a
black-fibred cord, which is tied to the ridge between each saddle.
The smoke-outlet at the end of the ridge-gable is protected by a
mass of straw hanging down from the apex of the window, in
shape and appearance very much like a Japanese straw rain-coat.
The smoke filters out through this curtain, though the rain cannot
beat in.

Fig. 86.—Crest of thatched roof in Omi.

Roofs of a somewhat similar construction may be seen in

other provinces. In the suburbs of Kioto a form of roof and
ridge, after a similar design, may be often seen. In this form
the supplementary roof is more sharply defined; the corners of
it are slightly turned up as in the temple-roof. To be more
definite, the main roof, which is a hip-roof, has built upon it
a low upper-roof, which is a gable; and upon this rests, like a
CHAPTER II. TYPES OF HOUSES. 93

Fig. 87.—Tile and bamboo ridge of thatched roof, Takatsuki,

Setsu.

separate structure, a continuous saddle of thatch, having upon

its back a few bamboos running longitudinally, and across the [101]
whole a number of thick narrow saddles of thatch sheathed with
bark, and over all a long bamboo bound to the ridge with cords
(fig. 89). These roofs, broad and thick eaved, with their deep-set,
heavily latticed smoke-windows, and the warm brown thatch,
form a pleasing contrast to the thin-shingled roofs of the poorer
neighboring houses.

Fig. 88.—Crest of thatched roof in Mikawa.

Fig. 89.—Crest of thatched roof in Kioto.

 94 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Another form of Mikawa roof, very simple and plain in struc-

ture, is shown in fig. 90. Here the ridge-roof is covered with a
continuous sheathing of large bamboos, with rafter-poles at the
ends coming through the thatch and projecting beyond the peak.
[102] In the provinces of Kii and Yamato the forms of ridges are
generally very simple. In one form, common in the province of
Kii, the ridge-roof, which has a much sharper incline than the
roof proper, is covered with bark, this being bound down by
parallel strips, or whole rods of bamboo; and spanning the ridge
at intervals are straw saddles sheathed with bark. These are very
narrow at the ridge, but widen at their extremities.

Fig. 90.—Crest of thatched roof in Mikawa.

The smoke-outlet is a small triangular opening (fig. 91). In the

province of Yamato there are two forms of roof very common.
In one of these the roof is a gable, the end-walls, plastered with
clay and chopped straw, projecting above the roof a foot or more,
and capped with a simple row of tiles (fig. 92),—the ridge in this
roof being made as in the last one described. In another form of
[103] roof with a similar ridge, the thatch on the slopes of the roof is
trimmed in such a way as to present the appearance of a series of
thick layers, resting one upon another like shingles, only each lap
being eighteen inches to two feet apart, with thick edges. It was
interesting and curious to find in the ancient province of Yamato
this peculiar treatment of the slopes of a thatched roof, precisely
like certain roofs seen among the houses of the Ainos of Yezo.
CHAPTER II. TYPES OF HOUSES. 95

Fig. 91.—Crest of thatched roof in Kii.

In the provinces of Totomi and Suruga a form of ridge was

observed, unlike any encountered elsewhere in Japan. The ridge-
roof was large and sharply angular. Resting upon the thatch, from
the ridge-pole half way down to the main roof, were bamboos
placed side by side, parallel to the ridge. Upon this layer of
bamboos were wide saddles of bark a foot or more in length,
with an interspace of nearly two feet between each saddle, these
reaching down to the main roof. On each side of the ridge-roof,
and running parallel to the ridge, were large bamboo poles resting
on the saddles, and bound down firmly with cords. On the sharp
crest of the roof rested a long round ridge-pole. This pole was
kept in place by wide bamboo slats, bent abruptly into a yoke, [104]
in shape not unlike a pair of sugar-tongs, and these spanning the
pole were thrust obliquely into the thatch. These were placed in
pairs and crosswise in the interspaces between the bark saddles.
On the ends of the ridge there were two bamboo yokes together.
The sketch of this roof (fig. 93) will give a much clearer idea of
its appearance and structure than any description. This style of
roof was unique, and appeared to be very strong and durable.
In the province of Ise a simple type of roof was seen (fig.
94). The ridge-roof was quite low, sheathed with bark and bound
down with a number of bamboos. At the gable were round
masses of thatch covered with bark, which formed an ornamental
moulding at the verge.11
11
We have characterized as a ridge-roof that portion which has truncate
 96 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 92.—Thatched roof in Totomi.

Fig. 93.—Crest of thatched roof in Kii.

In the province of Osumi, on the eastern side of Kagoshima

Gulf, the vertical walls of the buildings are very low; but these
support thatched roofs of ponderous proportions. These roofs
[105] are somewhat steeper than the northern roof, and their ridges are
wide and bluntly rounded. The ends of the ridge are finished with
a wide matting of bamboo, and this material is used in binding
down the ridge itself (fig. 54).
There are doubtless many other forms of thatched roof, but it
is believed that the examples given present the leading types.
As one becomes familiar with the picturesqueness and diver-
sity in the Japanese roof and ridge, he wonders why the architects
of our own country have not seen fit to extend their taste and
ingenuity to the roof, as well as to the sides of the house. There
ends,—in other words, the form of a gable,—and which receives special meth-
ods of treatment. The line of demarcation between the long reach of thatch of
the roof proper and the ridge-roof is very distinct.
CHAPTER II. TYPES OF HOUSES. 97

Fig. 94.—Crest of thatched roof in Ise.

is no reason why the ridge of an ordinary wooden house should

invariably be composed of two narrow weather-strips, or why the
roof itself should always be stiff, straight, and angular. Certainly
our rigorous climate can be no excuse for this, for on the upper
St. John, and in the northern part of Maine, one sees the wooden
houses of the French Canadians having roofs widely projecting,
with the eaves gracefully turning upward, presenting a much
prettier appearance than does the stiff angular roof of the New
England house.
It is indeed a matter of wonder that some one in building a
house in this country does not revert to a thatched roof. Our archi-
tectural history shows an infinite number of reversions, and if a
thatched roof were again brought into vogue, a new charm would
be added to our landscape. The thatched roof is picturesque and
warm, and makes a good rain-shed. In Japan an ordinary thatched [106]
roof will remain in good condition from fifteen to twenty years;
and I have been told that the best kinds of thatched roof will
endure for fifty years, though this seems incredible. As they get
weather-worn they are often patched and repaired, and finally
have to be entirely renewed. Old roofs become filled with dust,
assume a dark color, and get matted down; plants, weeds, and
mosses of various kinds grow upon them, as well as masses of
gray lichen. When properly constructed they shed water very
promptly, and do not get water-soaked, as one might suppose.
It is customary in the better class of houses having thatched
roofs to pave the ground with small cobble-stones, for a breadth
of two feet or more immediately below the eaves, to catch the
drip, as in a thatched roof it is difficult to adjust any sort of a
 98 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 95.—Paved space under eaves of thatched roof.

gutter or water-conductor. Fig. 95 illustrates the appearance of

the paved space about a house, the roof of which is shown in fig.
85. It is customary in the better class of houses having thatched
roofs to pave the ground with small cobble-stones, for a breadth
of two feet or more immediately below the eaves, to catch the
drip, as in a thatched roof it is difficult to adjust any sort of a
gutter or water-conductor. Fig. 95 illustrates the appearance of
the paved space about a house, the roof of which is shown in fig.
85.
The translation of the terms applied to many parts of the house
is quite curious and interesting. The word mune, signifying the
[107] ridge of the house, has the same meaning as with us; the same
word is applied to the back of a sword and to the ridge of a
mountain. In Korea the ridge of the thatched roof is braided, or at
least the thatch seems to be knotted or braided at this point; and
the Korean word for the ridge means literally back-bone, from
its resemblance to the back-bone of a fish.
In Japan the roof of a house is called yane. Now, yane literally
means house-root; but how such a term could be applied to the
roof is a mystery. I have questioned many intelligent Japanese
in regard to this word, and have never received any satisfactory
answer as to the reason of its application to the roof of a house.
A Korean friend has suggested that the name might have been
CHAPTER II. TYPES OF HOUSES. 99

applied through association: a tree without a root dies, and a

house without a roof decays. He also told me that the Chinese
character ne meant origin.
In Korea the foundation of a house is called the foot of the
house, and the foundation stones are called shoe-stones.
The Japanese word for ceiling is ten-jM,—literally, “heaven's
well.” It is an interesting fact that the root of both words, ceiling
and ten-jM, means “heaven.”

[108]
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS
The interior of a Japanese house is so simple in its construc-
tion, and so unlike anything to which we are accustomed in
the arrangement of details of interiors in this country, that it is
difficult to find terms of comparison in attempting to describe
it. Indeed, without the assistance of sketches it would be almost
impossible to give a clear idea of the general appearance, and
more especially the details, of Japanese house-interiors. We shall
therefore mainly rely on the various figures, with such aid as
description may render.
The first thing that impresses one on entering a Japanese house
is the small size and low stud of the rooms. The ceilings are so
low that in many cases one can easily touch them, and in going
from one room to another one is apt to strike his head against the
kamoi, or lintel. He notices also the constructive features every-
where apparent,—in the stout wooden posts, supports, cross-ties,
etc. The rectangular shape of the rooms, and the general absence
of all jogs and recesses save the tokonoma and companion recess
in the best room are noticeable features. These recesses vary
in depth from two to three feet or more, depending on the size
of the room, and are almost invariably in that side of the room
which runs at a right angle with the verandah (fig. 96); or if
in the second story, at a right angle with the balcony. The [109]
division between the recesses consists of a light partition, partly [110]
or wholly closed, which generally separates the recesses into two
equal bays. The bay nearest the verandah is called the tokonoma.
In this recess hang one or two pictures, usually one; and on
its floor, which is slightly raised above the level of the mats
of the main floor, stands a vase or some other ornament. The
companion bay has usually a little closet or cupboard closed by
102 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

sliding screens, and one or two shelves above, and also another
long shelf near its ceiling, all closed by sliding screens. At the
risk of some repetition, more special reference will be made
farther on to these peculiar and eminently characteristic features
of the Japanese house.

Fig. 96.—Guest-room in Hachi-ishi.

In my remarks on Japanese house-construction, in Chapter I.,

allusion was made to the movable partitions dividing the rooms,
consisting of light frames of wood covered with paper. These
are nearly six feet in height, and about three feet in width. The
frame-work of a house, as we have already said, is arranged with
special reference to the sliding screens, as well as to the number
of mats which are to cover the floor. In each corner of the room
is a square post, and within eighteen inches or two feet of the
ceiling cross-beams ran from post to post. These cross-beams
have grooves on their under side in which the screens are to run.
Not only are most of the partitions between the rooms made up
of sliding screens, but a large portion of the exterior partitions
as well are composed of these light and adjustable devices. A
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 103

house may have a suite of three or four rooms in a line, and the
outside partitions be made up entirely of these movable screens
and the necessary posts to support the roof,—these posts coming
in the corners of the rooms and marking the divisions between
the rooms. The outer screens are covered with white paper,
and when closed, a subdued and diffused light enters the room.
They may be quickly removed, leaving the entire front of the
house open to the air and sunshine. The screens between the [111]
rooms are covered with a thick paper, which may be left plain,
or ornamented with sketchy or elaborate drawings.
The almost entire absence of swinging doors is at once notice-
able, though now and then one sees them in other portions of the
house. The absence of all paint, varnish, oil, or filling, which,
too often defaces our rooms at home, is at once remarked; and
the ridiculous absurdity of covering a good grained wood-surface
with paint, and then with brush and comb trying to imitate Nature
by scratching in a series of lines, the Japanese are never guilty of.
On the contrary, the wood is left in just the condition in which it
leaves the cabinet-maker's plane, with a simple surface, smooth
but not polished,—though polished surfaces occur, however,
which will be referred to in the proper place. Oftentimes in some
of the parts the original surface of the wood is left, sometimes
with the bark retained. Whenever the Japanese workman can
leave a bit of Nature in this way he is delighted to do so. He is
sure to avail himself of all curious features in wood: it may be the
effect of some fungoid growth which marks a bamboo curiously;
or the sinuous tracks produced by the larvae of some beetle that
oftentimes traces the surface of wood, just below the bark, with
curious designs; or a knot or burl. His eye never misses these
features in finishing a room.
The floors are often roughly made, for the reason that straw
mats, two or three inches in thickness, cover them completely.
In our remarks on house-construction, allusion has already been
made to the dimensions of these mats.
 104 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Before proceeding further into the details of the rooms, it will

be well to examine the plans of a few dwellings copied directly
from the architect's drawings. The first plan given (fig. 97) is
that of a house built in Tokio a few years ago, in which the
writer has spent many pleasant hours. The main house mea-
[112] sures twenty-one by thirty-one feet; the L measures fifteen by
twenty-four feet. The solid black squares represent the heavier
upright beams which support the roof. The solid black circles
represent the support for the L as well as for the verandah roof.
The areas marked with close parallel lines indicate the verandah,
while the double parallel lines indicate the sliding screens,—the
solid black lines showing the permanent partitions. The kitchen,
bathroom, and certain platforms are indicated by parallel lines
somewhat wider apart than those that indicate the verandah. The
lines running obliquely indicate an area where the boards run
towards a central gutter slightly depressed below the common
level of the floor. Here stands the large earthen water-jar or the
wooden bath-tub; and water spilled upon the floor finds its way
out of the house by the gutter. The small areas on the outside
of the house, shaded in section, represent the closets or cases in
which the storm-blinds or wooden shutters, which so effectually
close the house at night, are stowed away in the day-time. The
house contains a vestibule, a hall, seven rooms, not including
the kitchen, and nine closets. These rooms, if named after our
nomenclature, would be as follows: study, library, parlor, sitting-
room, dining-room, bed-room, servants'-room, and kitchen. As
no room contains any article of furniture like a bedstead.—the
bed consisting of wadded comforters, being made up temporarily
upon the soft mats,—it is obvious that the bedding can be placed
in any room in the house. The absence of nearly all furniture
gives one an uninterrupted sweep of the floor, so that the entire
floor can be covered with sleepers if necessary,—a great conve-
nience certainly when one has to entertain unexpectedly a crowd
of guests over-night. Certain closets are used as receptacles for
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 105

the comforters, where they are stowed away during the day-time.
The absence of all barns, wood-sheds, and other out-houses
is particularly noticeable, and as the house has no cellar, one
wonders where the fuel is stowed. In certain areas of the kitchen
floor the planks are removable, the edges of special planks being [114]
notched to admit the finger, so that they can be lifted up one by
one; and beneath them a large space is revealed, in which wood
and charcoal are kept. In the vestibule, which has an earth floor,
is a narrow area of wood flush with the floor within, and in this
also the boards may be lifted up in a similar way, disclosing a
space below, wherein the wooden clogs and umbrellas may be
stowed out of sight. These arrangements in the hall are seen in
the houses of the moderately well-to-do people, but not, so far as
I know, in the houses of the wealthy. [113]

Fig. 97.—Plan of dwelling-house in Tokio. P, Parlor or

Guest-room; S, Sitting-room; D, Dining-room; L, Library, St,
Study, SR Servants' Room; B, Bed-room, K, Kitchen, H, Hall; V
Vestibule; C, Closet; T Tokonoma; Sh, Shrine, U and L, Privy.
 106 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

In this house the dining-room and library are six-mat rooms,

the parlor is an eight-mat room, and the sitting-room a four and
one-half mat room; that is, the floor of each room accommodates
the number of mats mentioned. The last three named rooms are
bordered by the verandah.
The expense of this house complete was about one thousand
dollars. The land upon which it stood contained about 10,800
square feet, and was valued at three hundred and thirty dollars.
Upon this the Government demanded a tax of five dollars. The
house furnished with these mats, requires little else with which
to begin house-keeping.
A comfortable house, fit for the habitation of a family of four
or five, may be built for a far less sum of money, and the few-
ness and cheapness of the articles necessary to furnish it surpass
belief. In mentioning such a modest house and furnishing, the
reader must not imagine that the family are constrained for want
of room, or stinted in the necessary furniture; on the contrary,
they are enabled to live in the most comfortable manner. Their
wants are few, and their tastes are simple and refined. They live
without the slightest ostentation; no false display leads them into
criminal debt. The monstrous bills for carpets, curtains, furniture,
silver, dishes, etc., often entailed upon young house-keepers at
[115] home in any attempt at house-keeping,—the premonition even
of such bills often preventing marriage,—are social miseries that
the Japanese happily know but little about.
Simple as the house just given appears to be, there is quite
as much variety in the arrangement of their rooms as with us.
There are cheap types of houses in Japan, as in our country,
where room follows room in a certain sequence; but the slightest
attention to these matters will not only show great variety in their
plans, but equally great variety in the ornamental finishing of
their apartments.
The plan shown in fig. 98 is that of the house represented
in figs. 36 and 37. The details are figured as in the previous
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 107

plan. This house has on the ground-floor seven rooms besides

the kitchen, hall, and bath-room. The kitchen and bath-room are
indicated, as in the former plan, by their floors being ruled in
wide parallel lines,—the lines running obliquely, as in the former
case, indicating the bath-room or wash-rooms.
The owner of this house has often welcomed me to its soft
mats and quiet atmosphere, and in the enjoyment of them I
have often wondered as to the impressions one would get if he
could be suddenly transferred from his own home to this unpre-
tentious house, with its quaint and pleasant surroundings. The
general nakedness, or rather emptiness, of the apartments would
be the first thing noticed; then gradually the perfect harmony
of the tinted walls with the wood finish would be observed.
The orderly adjusted screens, with their curious free-hand ink-
drawings, or conventional designs on the paper of so subdued
and intangible a character that special attention must be direct-
ed to them to perceive their nature; the clean and comfortable
mats everywhere smoothly covering the floor; the natural woods
composing the ceiling and the structural finishing of the room
everywhere apparent; the customary recesses with their cupboard
and shelves, and the room-wide lintel with its elaborate lattice or
carving above,—all these would leave lasting impressions of the [116]
exquisite taste and true refinement of the Japanese.
I noticed that a peculiarly agreeable odor of the wood used in
the structure of this house seemed to fill the air of the rooms with
a a delicate perfume;12 and in this connection I was led to think [117]
of the rooms I had seen in America encumbered with chairs,
bureaus, tables, bedsteads, wash-stands, etc., and of the dusty
carpets and suffocating wall-paper, hot with some frantic design,
and perforated with a pair of quadrangular openings, wholly or
partially closed against light and air. Recalling this labyrinth
of varnished furniture, I could but remember how much work
12
An odor which at home we recognize as “Japanesy,” arising from the
wood-boxes in which Japanese articles are packed.
108 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

is entailed upon some one properly to attend to such a room;

and enjoying by contrast the fresh air and broad flood of light,
limited only by the dimensions of the room, which this Japanese
house afforded, I could not recall with any pleasure the stifling
apartments with which I had been familiar at home.

Fig. 98.—Plan of dwelling-house in Tokio. P, Parlor or

Guest-room; B, Bed-room, K, Kitchen, SR Servants' Room; BR,
Bath Room, E, E, Side-entrances, V Vestibule; H, Hall; WR,
Waiting-room; C, Closet; T Tokonoma; U and L, Privy.

If a foreigner is not satisfied with the severe simplicity, and

what might at first strike him as a meagreness, in the appoint-
ments of a Japanese house, and is nevertheless a man of taste,
he is compelled to admit that its paucity of furniture and carpets
spares one the misery of certain painful feelings that incon-
gruities always produce. He recalls with satisfaction certain
works on household art, in which it is maintained that a table
with carved cherubs beneath, against whose absurd contours one
knocks his legs, is an abomination; and that carpets which have
depicted upon them winged angels, lions, or tigers,—or, worse
still, a simpering and reddened maiden being made love to by an
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 109

equally ruddy shepherd,—are hardly the proper surfaces to tread

upon with comfort, though one may take a certain grim delight
in wiping his soiled boots upon them. In the Japanese house the
traveller is at least not exasperated with such a medley of dreadful
things; he is certainly spared the pains that “civilized” styles of
appointing and furnishing often produce. Mr. Lowell truthfully
remarks on “the waste, and aimlessness of our American luxury,
which is an abject enslavement to tawdry upholstery.”
We are digressing, however. In the plan referred to, an idea of
the size of the rooms may be formed by observing the number of [118]
mats in each room, and recalling the size of the mats, which is
about three feet by six. It will be seen that the rooms are small,
much smaller than those of a similar class of American houses,
though appearing more roomy from the absence of furniture. The
three rooms bordering the verandah and facing the garden are
readily thrown into one, and thus a continuous apartment is se-
cured, measuring thirty-six feet in length by twelve in width; and
this is uninterrupted, with the exception of one small partition.13
In the manner of building, one recognizes the propriety of
constructive art as being in better taste; and in a Japanese house
one sees this principle carried out to perfection. The ceiling of
boards, the corner posts and middle posts and transverse ties are
in plain sight. The corner posts which support the roof play their
part as a decorative feature, as they pass stoutly upward from
the ground beneath. A fringe of rafters rib the lower surface
of the wide overhanging eaves, and these in turn rest firmly on
an unhewn beam which runs as a girder from one side of the
verandah to the other. The house is simply charming in all its
appointments, and as a summer-house during the many long hot
months it is incomparable. In the raw and rainy days of winter,
however, it is not so pleasant, at least to a foreigner,—though
13
In the plan (fig. 97) P is an eight-mat room; D and L are six-mat rooms; S
is a four and one-half mat room; S, H, and St. are three-mat rooms; S B, and F
are two-mat rooms.
 110 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

I question whether to a Japanese it is more unpleasant than the

ordinary houses at home are with us, with some of the apartments
hot and stifling, and things cracking with the furnace heat, while
other parts are splitting with the cold; with gas from the fur-
nace, and chimneys that often refuse to draw, and an impalpable
though tangible soot and coal-dust settling on every object, and
[119] many other abominations that are too well known. The Japanese
do not suffer from the cold as we do. Moreover, when in the
house they clothe themselves much more warmly; and for what
little artificial warmth they desire, small receptacles containing
charcoal are provided, over which they warm themselves, at the
same time keeping their feet warm, as a hen does her eggs, by
sitting on them. Their indifference to cold is seen in the fact that
in their winter-parties the rooms will often be entirely open to
the garden, which may be glistening with a fresh snowfall. Their
winters are of course much milder than our Northern winters. At
such seasons, however, an American misses in Japan the cheerful
open fireplace around which the family in his own country is
wont to gather; indeed, with the social character of our family
life a Japanese house to us would be in winter comfortless to the
last degree.
The differences between the houses of the nobles and the
samurai are quite as great as the differences between these latter
houses and the rude shelters of the peasant class. The differences
between the interior finish of the houses of the first two men-
tioned classes are perhaps not so marked, as in both cases clean
wood-work, simplicity of style, and purity of finish are aimed
at; but the house of the noble is marked by a grander entrance, a
far greater extent of rooms and passages, and a modification in
the arrangement of certain rooms and passages not seen in the
ordinary house.
The accompanying plan of a Daimio's house (fig. 99)14 is from
14
The following is a brief explanation of the names of the rooms given in plan
fig. 99: Agari-ba (Agari, “to go up; ” ba, “place”), Platform, or place to stand
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 111

a drawing made by Mr. Miyasaki, a student in the Kaikoshia, a

private school of architecture in Tokio, and exhibited with other
plans at the late International Health and Education Exhibition
held in London. Through the kindness of Mr. S. Tejima the
Japanese commissioner, I have been enabled to examine and
study these plans.

Fig. 99.—Plan of a portion of a Daimyo's residence.

The punctilious way in which guests or official callers were

received by the Daimio is indicated by a curious modification of [120]
the floor of one of a suite of rooms, which is raised a few inches
on in coming out of the Bath. Cha-dokoro, Tea-place; Ge-dan, Lower Step;
M-dan, Upper Step; Iri-kawa, Space between verandah and room; Kami-no-ma,
Upper place or room; Tsugi-no-ma, Next place or room; Kesho-no-ma, Dress-
ing-room (Kesho,—“adorning the face with powder”). Nan-do, Store-room;
Naka-tsubo, Middle space, Oshi-ire, Closet (literally, “push,” “put in”); Ro-ka,
Corridor, Covered way; Tamari, Ante-chamber; Tsume-sho, Waiting-room for
servants; Yu-dono, Bath-room; Yen-zashiki, End parlor; Watari,—“to cross
over;” Sunoko, Bamboo shelf or platform.
 112 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

above the level of the other floors, forming a sort of dais. These
rooms are bordered by a sort of passage-way, or intermediate
portion, called the iri-kawa, which comes between the room and
the verandah. To be more explicit: within the boundary of the
principal guest-room there appears to be a suite of smaller rooms
marked off by shMji; one of these rooms called the ge-dan has
its floor on a level with the other floors of the house. The other
room, called the jM-dan, has its floor raised to a height of three
or four inches above that of the ge-dan, its boundary or border
being marked by a polished plank forming a frame, so to speak,
for the mats. On that side of the jM-dan away from the ge-dan are
the tokonoma and chigai-dana. On entering such a room from
the verandah one passes through the usual shMji, and then across
a matted area called the iri-kawa, the width of one mat or more;
here he comes to another line of sliding screens, which open into
the apartments just described. When the Daimio receives the
calls from those who come to congratulate him on New Year's
day, and other important occasions, he sits in great dignity in
the jM-dan; his chief minister and other attendants occupy the
iri-kawa, while the visitors enter the ge-dan, and there make
their obeisance to the Worshipful Daimio Sama. In the same
plan there is another suite of rooms called the kami-noma and
tsugi-noma surrounded by iri-kawa, probably used for similar
purposes.
In this plan the close parallel lines indicate the verandahs; the
thick lines, permanent partitions; and the small black squares,
the upright posts. The lines of shMji and fusuma are shown by the
thin lines, which with the thick lines represent the boundaries of
the rooms, passage-ways, etc.
A more minute description of the mats may be given at this
point. A brief allusion has already been made to them in the
[121] remarks on house-construction. These mats, or tatami, are made
very carefully of straw, matted and bound together with stout
[122] string to the thickness of two inches or more,—the upper surface
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 113

being covered with a straw-matting precisely like the Canton

matting we are familiar with, though in the better class of mats of
a little finer quality. The edges are trimmed true and square, and
the two longer sides are bordered on the upper surface and edge
with a strip of black linen an inch or more in width (fig. 100).
The making of mats is quite a separate trade from that of
making the straw-matting with which they are covered. The mat-
maker may often be seen at work in front of his door, crouching
down to a low frame upon which the mat rests.

Fig. 100.—Mat.

As we have before remarked, the architect invariably plans

his rooms to accommodate a certain number of mats; and since
these mats have a definite size, any indication on the plan of the
number of mats a room is to contain gives at once its dimensions
also. The mats are laid in the following numbers,—two, three,
four and one-half, six, eight, ten, twelve, fourteen, sixteen, and
so on. In the two-mat room the mats are laid side by side. In the
three-mat room the mats may be laid side by side, or two mats
in one way and the third mat crosswise at the end. In the four
and one-half mat room the mats are laid with the half-mat in one
corner. The six and eight mat rooms are the most common-sized
rooms; and this gives some indication of the small size of the [123]
ordinary Japanese room and house,—the six-mat room being
about nine feet by twelve; the eight-mat room being twelve by
twelve; and the ten-mat room being twelve by fifteen. The
accompanying sketch (fig. 101) shows the usual arrangements
for these mats.
 114 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 101.—Arrangement of mats in different-sized rooms.

In adjusting mats to the floor, the corners of four mats are

never allowed to come together, but are arranged so that the
corners of two mats abut against the side of a third. They are
supposed to be arranged in the direction of a closely-wound spiral
(see dotted line in fig. 101). The edges of the longer sides of
the ordinary mats are bound with a narrow strip of black linen,
as before remarked. In the houses of the nobles this border strip
has figures worked into it in black and white, as may be seen by
reference to Japanese illustrated books showing interiors. These
mats fit tightly, and the floor upon which they rest, never being
in sight, is generally made of rough boards with open joints. The
mat, as you step upon it, yields slightly to the pressure of the foot;
and old mats get to be slightly uneven and somewhat hard from
continual use. From the nature of this soft-matted floor shoes
are never worn upon it,—the Japanese invariably leaving their
wooden clogs outside the house, either on the stepping-stones or
on the earth-floor at the entrance. The wearing of one's shoes in
the house is one of the many coarse and rude ways in which a
foreigner is likely to offend these people. The hard heels of a boot
[124] or shoe not only leave deep indentations in the upper matting, but
oftentimes break through. Happily, however, the act of removing
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 115

one's shoes on entering the house is one of the very few customs
that foreigners recognize,—the necessity of compliance being
too obvious to dispute. In spring-time, or during a rain of long
duration, the mats become damp and musty; and when a day
of sunshine comes they are taken up and stacked, like cards, in
front of the house to dry. They are also removed at times and
well beaten. Their very nature affords abundant hiding-places
for fleas, which are the unmitigated misery of foreigners who
travel in Japan; though even this annoyance is generally absent
in private houses of the better classes, as is the case with similar
pests in our country.
Upon these mats the people eat, sleep, and die; they represent
the bed, chair, lounge, and sometimes table, combined. In resting
upon them the Japanese assume a kneeling position,—the legs
turned beneath, and the haunches resting upon the calves of
the legs and the inner sides of the heels; the toes turned in so
that the upper and outer part of the instep bears directly on the
mats. Fig. 102 represents a woman in the attitude of sitting. In
old people one often notices a callosity on that part of the foot
which comes in contact with the mat, and but for a knowledge
of the customs of the people in this matter might well wonder
how such a hardening of the flesh could occur in such an odd
place. This position is so painful to a foreigner that it is only
with a great deal of practice he can become accustomed to it.
Even the Japanese who have been abroad for several years find
it excessively difficult and painful to resume this habit. In this [125]
attitude the Japanese receive their company. Hand-shaking is
unknown, but bows of various degrees of profundity are made
by placing the hands together upon the mats and bowing until the
head oftentimes touches the hands. In this ceremony the back is
kept parallel with the floor, or nearly so.
At meal-times the food is served in lacquer and porcelain
dishes on lacquer trays, placed upon the floor in front of the
kneeling family; and in this position the repast is taken.
 116 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 102.—Attitude of woman in sitting.

At night a heavily wadded comforter is placed upon the

floor; another equally thick is provided for a blanket, a pillow
of diminutive proportions for a head-support,—and the bed is
made. In the morning these articles are stowed away in a large
closet. Further reference will be made to bedding in the proper
place.
A good quality of mats can be made for one dollar and a half
a-piece; though they sometimes cost three or four dollars, and
even a higher price. The poorest mats cost from sixty to eighty
cents a-piece. The matting for the entire house represented in
plan fig. 97 cost fifty-two dollars and fifty cents.
Reference has already been made to the sliding screens, and
as they form so important and distinct a feature in the Japanese
house, a more special description of them is necessary. In our
American houses a lintel is the horizontal beam placed over the
door; this is cased with wood, and has a jamb or recess corre-
sponding to the vertical recesses into which the door shuts. For
the sake of clearness, we may imagine a lintel running entirely
across the room from one corner to the other, and this is the
kamoi of the Japanese room. The beam is not cased. On its under
surface run two deep and closely parallel grooves, and directly
beneath this kamoi on the floor a surface of wood shows in which
are two exceedingly shallow grooves. This surface is level with
the mats; and in these grooves the screens run. The grooves in
[126] the kamoi are made deep, in order that the screens may be lifted
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 117

out of the floor-grooves and then dropped from the upper ones,
and thus removed. In this way a suite of rooms can be quickly
turned into one, by the removal of the screens. The grooves are
sufficiently wide apart to permit the screens being pushed by
each other. From the adjustable nature of these sliding partitions
one may have the opening between the rooms of any width he
desires.

Fig. 103.—Section through verandah and guest-room.

There are two forms of these sliding screens,—the one kind,

called fusuma, forming the partitions between rooms; the other
kind, called shMji, coming on the outer sides of the rooms next to
the verandah, and forming the substitutes for windows (fig. 103).
The fusuma forming the movable partitions between the rooms
are covered on both sides with thick paper; and as it was cus- [127]
tomary in past times to use Chinese paper for this purpose, these
devices are also called kara-kami,—“China-paper.” The frame
is not unlike the frame used for the outside screens, consisting
of thin vertical and horizontal strips of wood forming a grating,
with the meshes four or five inches in width, and two inches
in height. The outside frame or border is usually left plain, as
is the case with most of their wood-work. It is not uncommon,
however, to see these frames lacquered. The material used for
 118 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

covering them consists of a stout, thick, and durable paper; and

this is often richly decorated. Sometimes a continuous scene will
stretch like a panorama across the whole side of a room. The old
castles contain some celebrated paintings on these fusuma, by
famous artists. The use of heavy gold-leaf in combination with
the paintings produces a decorative effect rich beyond descrip-
tion. In the commoner houses the fusuma are often undecorated
save by the paper which covers them; and the material for this
purpose is infinite in its variety,—some kinds being curiously
wrinkled, other kinds seeming to have interwoven in their texture
the delicate green threads of some sea-weed; while other kinds
still will have the rich brown sheaths of bamboo shoots worked
into the paper, producing a quaint and pleasing effect. Often the
paper is perfectly plain; and if by chance an artist friend comes
to the house, he is asked to leave some little sketch upon these
surfaces as a memento of his visit: others perhaps may have
already covered portions of the surface with some landscape or
spray of flowers. In old inns one has often pointed out to him the
work of some famous artist, who probably paid his score in this
way.
While the fusuma are almost invariably covered with thick
and opaque paper, it occurs sometimes that light is required in
a back-room; in that case, while the upper and lower third of
the fusuma retains its usual character, the central third has a
shMji inserted,—that is, a slight frame-work covered with white
paper, through which light enters as in the outside screens. This
[128] frame is removable, so that it can be re-covered with paper when
required. This frame-work is often made in ornamental patterns,
geometrical or natural designs being common. In summer an-
other kind of frame may be substituted in the fusuma, termed a
yoshi-do, in which a kind of rush called yoshi takes the place of
paper; the yoshi is arranged in a close grating through which the
air has free access and a little light may enter. The fusuma may
be entirely composed of yoshi and the appropriate frame-work
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 119

to hold it. One of this kind is represented in fig. 104. The

lower portion consists of a panel of dark cedar, in which are cut
or perforated the figures of bats; above this panel are transverse
bars of light cedar, and filling up the border of the frame is a
close grating of brown reeds or rushes placed vertically; at the
top is a wide interspace crossed by a single root of bamboo. The
yoshi resembles miniature bamboo, the rods being the size of an
ordinary wheat-straw, and having a warm brown tint. This is
employed in many ways in the decoration of interiors, and the
use of so fragile and delicate a material in house-finish is one
of the many indications of the quiet and gentle manners of the
Japanese.

Fig. 104.—Reed-screen.

Oftentimes a narrow permanent partition occurs in which is

an opening,—the width of one fusuma,— which takes the place
of our swinging and slamming door. In this case the fusuma is a [129]
more solid and durable structure. The one shown in fig. 105 is
of the nature of a door, since it guards the opening which leads
from the hall to the other apartments of the house. A rich and
120 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

varied effect is produced by the use and arrangement of light and

dark bamboo and heavily-grained wood, the central panels being
of dark cedar. In the vestibule one often sees sliding screens
consisting of a single panel of richly-grained cedar.

Fig. 105.—Sliding panel.

Conveniences for pushing back the fusuma are secured in a

variety of ways; the usual form consists of an oval or circular
plate of thin metal, having a depressed area, inserted in the
fusuma in about the same position a doorknob would be with us.
These are called hikite, and often present beautiful examples of
metal-work, being elaborately carved and sometimes enamelled.
The same caprices and delights in ornamentation seen elsewhere
in their work find full play in the designs of the hikite. Fig. 106
shows one from the house of a noble; its design represents an
inkstone and two brushes,—the brushes being silvered and tipped
with lacquer, while in the recessed portion is engraved a dragon.
Fig. 107 represents one made of copper, in which the leaves
and berries are enamelled; the leaves green, and the berries red
and white. Figs. 108 and 109 show more pretentious as well as
cheaper forms, the designs being stamped and not cut by hand.
Sometimes hikite are made of porcelain. In the cheaper forms
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 121

of fusuma, the hikite consists of a depressed area in the paper [130]

formed by a modification of the frame itself. In illustrations of
fine interiors one often notices a form of hikite from which hang
two short cords of silk tied in certain formal ways, on the ends
of which are tassels. From the almost universal presence of these
in old illustrated books, one is led to believe that formerly the
cord was the usual handle by which the fusuma was pulled back
and forth, and that these gradually fell into disuse, the recessed
plate of metal alone remaining. This form of hikite is rarely seen
to-day, though a few of the old Daimios' houses still possess
it. Fig. 110 represents two forms copied from a book entitled
“Tategu Hinagata.”

Fig. 106.—Hikite.

Fig. 107.—Hikite.
 122 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 108.—Hikite.

Fig. 109.—Hikite.

The outside screens, or shMji, which take the place of our

windows, are those screens which border the verandah, or come
on that side of the room towards the exterior wall of the house.
These consist of a light frame-work made of thin bars of wood
crossing and matched into each other, leaving small rectangular
interspaces. The lower portion of the shMji, to the height of a foot
from the floor, is usually a wood-panel, as a protection against
careless feet as well as to strengthen the frame. The shMji are
covered on the outside with white paper. The only light the room
[131] receives when the shMji are closed comes through this paper,
and the room is flooded with a soft diffused light which is very
agreeable. The hikite for pushing the shMji back is arranged by
one of the rectangular spaces being papered on the opposite side,
thus leaving a convenient recess for the fingers.
Sometimes little holes or rents are accidentally made in this
paper-covering of the shMji; and in the mending of these places
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 123

Fig. 110.—Hikite with cord.

the Japanese, ever true in their artistic feeling, repair the damage,
not by square bits of paper as we should probably, but by cutting
out pretty designs of cherry or plum blossoms and patching the
rents with these. When observing this artistic device I have
often wondered how the broken panes of some of our country
houses must look to a Japanese,—the repairs being effected by
the use of dirty bags stuffed with straw, or more commonly by
battered hats jammed into the gaps. Sometimes the frame of
a shMji gets sprung or thrown out of its true rectangular shape;
this is remedied by inserting at intervals in the meshes of the
frame-work elastic strips of bamboo, and the constant pressure
of these strips in one direction tends to bring the frame straight [132]
again. Fig. 111 illustrates the appearance of this; the curved lines
representing the elastic strips.

Fig. 111.—Straightening shMji frame.

 124 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

There are innumerable designs employed in the shMji; and in

this, as in many other parts of the interior, the Japanese show an
infinite amount of taste and ingenuity. Fig. 112 illustrates one
of these ornamental forms. At present in the cities it is common
to see a narrow strip of window glass inserted across the shMji
about two feet from the floor. It seems odd at first sight to see
it placed so low, until one recalls the fact that the inmates sit on
the mats, and the glass in this position is on a level with their
line of vision. As a general rule the designs for the shMji are
more simple than those employed for certain exterior openings
which may be regarded as windows, while those which cover the
openings between the rooms are most complex and elaborate.
Further reference, however, will be made to these in the proper
place.

Fig. 112.—ShMji with ornamental frame.

It has been necessary to anticipate the special description of

the details of a room in so far as a description of the mats
and screens were concerned, since a general idea of the interior
[133] could not be well understood without clearly understanding the
nature of those objects which form inseparable elements of every
Japanese room, and which are so unlike anything to which we
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 125

are accustomed. Having given these features, it may be well

to glance at a general view of the few typical rooms before
examining farther into the details of their finish.
The room shown in fig. 96 gives a fair idea of the appearance
of the guest-room with its two bays or recesses, the tokonoma
and chigai-dana,—one of which, the tokonoma, is a clear recess,
in which usually hangs a picture; and in the other is a small
closet and shelf, and an additional shelf above, closed by slid-
ing doors. The sketch was taken from the adjoining room, the
fusuma between the two having been removed. The grooves for
the fusuma may be seen in the floor and in the kamoi overhead.
The farther recess is called the tokonoma, which means literal-
ly, “bed-space.” This recess, or at least its raised platform, is
supposed to have been anciently used for the bed-place.15
Let us pause for a moment to consider the peculiar features
of this room. The partition separating the two recesses has for
its post a stick of timber, from which the bark only has been
removed; and this post, or toko-bashira as it is called, is almost
invariably a stick of wood in its natural state, or with the bark
only removed; and if it is gnarled, or tortuous in grain, or if it
presents knots or burls, it is all the more desirable. Sometimes
the post may be hewn in such a way that in section it has an
octagonal form,—the cutting being done in broad scarfs, giving
it a peculiar appearance as shown in fig. 113. Sometimes the post
may have one or two branches above, which are worked into the
structure as an ornamental feature. The ceiling of the tokonoma
is usually, if not always, flush, with the ceiling of the room, [134]
while that of the chigai-dana is much lower. The floor of the
tokonoma is higher than that of the chigai-dana, and its sill may
be rough or finished; and even when finished squarely, some
natural surface may be left through the curvature of the stick
from which it has been hewn, and which had been selected for
15
See chapter viii. for further considerations regarding the matter.
126 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

this very peculiarity,—a feature, by the way, that our carpenters

would regard as a blemish. The floor of the tokonoma is in nearly
every case a polished plank; the floor of the chigai-dana is also
of polished wood. A large and deep tokonoma may have a mat,
or tatami, fitted into the floor; and this is generally bordered
with a white strip, and not with black as in the floor tatami. The
tatami in this place is found in the houses of the Daimios.

Fig. 113.—Portion of Toko-Bashira.

Figs. 114, 115, 116, and 117. Ornamental-headed nails.

CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 127

Spanning the tokonoma above is a finished beam a foot or more

below the ceiling, the interspace above being plastered, as are the
walls of both recesses. A similar beam spans the chigai-dana at a
somewhat lower level. When the cross-beam of the chigai-dana
connects with the toko-bashira, as well as in the joining of other
horizontal beams with the uprights, ornamental-headed nails are
used. These are often of elaborately-wrought metal, representing
a variety of natural or conventional forms. Figs. 114, 115, 116, [135]
and 117 present a few of the cheaper forms used; these being of
cast metal, the finer lines only having been cut by hand. These
nails, or kazari-kugi, are strictly ornamental, having only a spur
behind to hold them into the wood.
The partition dividing these two recesses often has an orna-
mental opening, either in the form of a small window barred with
bamboo, or left open; or this opening may be near the floor, with
its border made of a curved stick of wood, as in the figure we are
now describing.
In the chigai-dana there are always one or more shelves
ranged in an alternating manner, with usually a continuous shelf
above closed by sliding doors. A little closet on the floor in the
corner of the recess is also closed by screens, as shown in the
figure. The wood-work of this may be quaintly-shaped sticks or
highly-polished wood.
This room illustrates very clearly a peculiar feature in Japanese
decoration,—that of avoiding, as far as possible, bi-lateral sym-
metry. Here are two rooms of the same size and shape, the only
difference consisting in the farther room having two recesses,
while the room nearer has a large closet closed by sliding screens.
It will be observed, however, that in the farther room the narrow
strips of wood, upon which the boards of the ceiling rest, run
parallel to the tokonoma, while in the nearer room the strips run
at right angles. The mats in the two rooms, while arranged in
the usual manner for an eight-mat room, are placed in opposite
ways; that is to say, as the mats in front of the tokonoma and
 128 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

chigai-dana are always parallel to these recesses, the other mats

are arranged in accordance with these. In the room coming
next, the arrangement of mats, while being the same, have the
two mats running parallel to the line dividing the rooms, and of
course the other mats in accordance with these. This asymmetry
[136] is carried out, of course, in the two recesses, which are unlike in
every detail,—their floors as well as the lower borders of their
hanging partitions being at different levels. And in the details
of the chigai-dana symmetrical arrangement is almost invariably
avoided, the little closet on the floor being at one side, while
a shelf supported on a single prop runs from the corner of this
closet to the other side of the recess; and if another shelf is
added, this is arranged in an equally unsymmetrical manner. In
fact everywhere, in mats, ceiling, and other details, a two-sided
symmetry is carefully avoided.
How different has been the treatment of similar features in the
finish of American rooms! Everywhere in our apartments, halls,
school-houses, inside and out, a monotonous bi-lateral symmetry
is elaborated to the minutest particular, even to bracket and notch
in pairs. The fireplace is in the middle of the room, the mantel,
and all the work about this opening, duplicated with painful
accuracy on each side of a median line; every ornament on the
mantel-shelf is in pairs, and these are arranged in the same way;
a single object, like a French clock, is adjusted in the dead centre
of this shelf, so that each half of the mantel shall get its half of a
clock; a pair of andirons below, and portraits of ancestral progen-
itors on each side above keep up this intolerable monotony; and
opposite, two windows with draped curtains parted right and left,
and a symmetrical table or cabinet between the two, are in rigid
adherence to this senseless scheme. And outside the monotony
is still more dreadful, even to the fences, carriage-way and flow-
er-beds; indeed, false windows are introduced in adherence to
this inane persistency in traditional methods. Within ten years
some progress has been made among the better class of American
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 129

houses in breaking away from this false and tiresome idea, and
our houses look all the prettier for these changes. In decoration,
as well, we have made great strides in the same direction, thanks
to the influence of Japanese methods. [137]
While the general description just given of the tokonoma and
chigai-dana may be regarded as typical of the prevailing features
of these recesses, nevertheless their forms and peculiarities are
infinitely varied. It is indeed rare to find the arrangement of
the shelves and cupboards in the chigai-dana alike in any two
houses, as will be seen by a study of the figures which are to
follow. Usually these two recesses are side by side, and run at
right angles with the verandah, the tokonoma almost invariably
coming next to the verandah. Sometimes, however, these two
recesses may stand at right angles to one another, coming in
a corner of the room away from the verandah. The tokonoma
may be seen also without its companion recess, and sometimes
it may occupy an entire side of the room, in which case it not
infrequently accommodates a set of two or three pictures. When
these recesses come side by side, it is usual to have an entire mat
in front of each recess. The guest of honor is seated on the mat
in front of the tokonoma, while the guest next in honor occupies
a mat in front of the chigai-dana.

Fig. 118.—Shelves contrasted with conventional drawing of

mist, or clouds.
 130 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

This recess has a variety of names, according to the form and

arrangement of the shelves. It is usually called chigai-dana,—
the word chigai meaning “different,” and dana, “shelf,” as the
shelves are arranged alternately. It is also called usukasumi-dana,
which means “thin mist-shelf,”—the shelves in this case being
arranged in a way in which they often conventionally represent
mist or clouds, as shown in their formal designs of these objects
(fig. 118), in which the upper outline shows the form of shelf, and
the lower outline the conventional drawing of cloud. When only
one shelf is seen it may be called ichi-yo-dana; the form of the
[138] shelf suggests such names as willow-leaf shelf, fish-shelf, etc. In
this recess, as we have seen, are usually shelves and a cupboard;
and the arrangements of these are almost as numberless as the
houses containing them,—at least it is rare to see two alike. A
shelf in the chigai-dana, having a rib or raised portion on its
free end, is called a maki-mono-dana. On this shelf the long
picture-scrolls called maki-mono are placed; the ceremonial hat
was also placed on one of the shelves. It was customary to place
on top of the cupboard a lacquer-box, in which was contained an
ink-stone, brushes, and paper. This box was usually very rich in
its gold lacquer and design. In the houses of the nobles the top
of the cupboard was also used to hold a wooden tablet called a
shaku,—an object carried by the nobles in former times, when
in the presence of the Emperor. It was anciently used to make
memoranda upon, but in later days is carried only as a form
of court etiquette. The sword-rack might also be placed on the
cupboard. In honor of distinguished guests the sword-rack was
[139] placed in the tokonoma in the place of honor; that is, in the middle
of its floor, or toko, in front of the hanging picture,—though if an
incense-burner occupied this position, then the sword-rack was
placed at one side. While these recesses were usually finished
with wood in its natural state or simply planed, in the houses of
the nobles this finish was often richly lacquered.
Resuming our description of interiors, a peculiar form of room
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 131

Fig. 119.—Guest-room.

is shown in the house of a gentleman of high rank (fig. 119).

Here the tokonoma was much larger than its companion recess,
which in this case was next to the verandah. The chigai-dana
was small and low, and the spaces beneath the shelves were
enclosed by sliding screens forming cupboards. The tokonoma
was large and deep, and its floor was covered by a mat or tatami;
the flower-vase was at one side.

Fig. 120.—Guest-room, with recesses in corners.

The depth of the tokonoma is generally governed by the size

of the room. The appointments of this recess are also always in
proportion,—the pictures and flower-vase being of large size in [140]
the one just described.
 132 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 121.—Guest-room showing circular window.

In a spacious hall in Tokio is a tokonoma six feet in depth,

and very wide. The flower-vases and pictures in this recess
were colossal. In an adjoining room to the one last figured the
tokonoma came in one corner of the room, and the chigai-dana
was at right angles with it. To the right of the tokonoma was a
permanent partition, in the centre of which was a circular window
closed by shMji which parted right and left. The shMji may have
run within the partition, or rested in a grooved frame on the other
side of the wall. Above this circular window and near the ceiling
was a long rectangular window, also having shMji, which could
be open for ventilation. To the left of the chigai-dana was a row
[141] of deep cupboards enclosed by a set of sliding screens; above
was a broad shelf, upon the upper surface of which ran shMji,
which when opened revealed another room beyond. The frieze
of this recess had a perforated design of waves (fig. 120).
Severe and simple as a Japanese room appears to be, it may
be seen by this figure how many features for decorative display
come in. The ornamental openings or windows with their varied
lattices, the sliding screens and the cupboards with their rich
sketches of landscapes and trees, the natural woods, indeed many
of these features might plainly be adopted without modification
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 133

for our rooms.

Fig. 122.—Guest-room showing writing-place.

Fig. 123.—Guest-room with wide tokonoma.

 134 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

In another room (fig. 121) of a gentleman famous for his in-

vention of silk-reeling machinery the tokonoma, instead of being
open to the verandah, was protected by a permanent partition [142]
filling half the side of the room bordering the verandah. In this
partition was a large circular window, having a graceful bamboo
frame-work. This opening was closed on the outside by a shMji,
which hung on hooks and could be removed when required. In
this case the honored guest, when seated in front of the tokonoma,
is protected from the wind and sun while the rest of the room
may be open. In the place of this partition there is often seen,
in houses of the better class, a recess having a low shelf, with
cupboards beneath and an ornamental window above. This is the
writing-place (fig. 122); and upon the shelf are placed the ink-
stone, water-bottle, brush-rest and brushes, paper-weight, and
other conveniences of a literary man. Above are often suspended
a bell and wooden hammer, to call the servants when required.
A hanging vase of flowers is often suspended from the partition
[143] above. For want of an original sketch showing this recess I
have adapted one from a Japanese book, entitled “Daiku Tana
Hinagata,” Vol. II. Those who have chanced to see the club
rooms of the Koyokuan will recall the elaborate and beautiful
panel of geometric work that fills the window of a recess of this
nature.
In Fig. 123 the tokonoma occupies almost the entire side of
the room, the chigai-dana being reduced to an angular cupboard
placed in the corner and a small hooded partition hanging down
from above; the small window near by, with bamboo lattice,
opened into another room beyond. A tokonoma of this kind is
available for the display of sets of three or four pictures. This
[144] room was in the house of a former Daimio.
In the next figure (fig. 124) we have the sketch of a small room
with the tokonoma facing the verandah, and with no companion
recess. The little window near the floor opened into the tokono-
ma, which extended behind the partition as far as the upright
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 135

Fig. 124.—Small guest-room.

beam. The post which formed one side of the tokonoma was a
rough and irregular-shaped stick. The treatment of cutting away
a larger portion of it, though hardly constructive, yet added a
quaint effect to the room; while the cross-beam of the tokonoma.
usually a square and finished beam, in this case was in a natural [145]
state, the bark only being removed.
In fig. 125 is shown a room of the plainest description; it
was severe in its simplicity. Here the tokonoma, though on that
side of the room running at right angles with the verandah, was
in the corner of the room, while the chigai-dana was next to
the verandah. The recesses were quite deep,—the chigai-dana
having a single broad shelf, as broad as the depth of the recess,
this forming the top of a spacious closet beneath. In the parti-
tion dividing these two recesses was a long narrow rectangular
opening. The little bamboo flower-holder hanging to the post
of the toko-bashira had, besides a few flowers, two long twigs
of willow, which were made to bend gracefully in front of the
tokonoma. The character of this room indicated that its owner
was a lover of the tea-ceremonies.
The next figure (fig. 126) is that of a room in the second
story of the house of a famous potter in Kioto. This room was [146]
 136 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 125.—Guest-room of dwelling in Tokio.

remarkable for the purity of its finish. The toko-bashira con-

sisted of an unusually twisted stick of some kind of hard wood,
the bark having been removed, exposing a surface of singular
smoothness. The hooded partition over the chigai-dana had for
its lower border a rich dark-brown bamboo; the vertical piece
forming the other side of the chigai-dana was a black post hewn
in an octagonal shape, with curious irregular crosscuts on the
faces. The sliding doors closing the shelf in this recess were
covered with gold paper. The hikite consisted of sections of
bamboo let in to the surface. The plaster of both recesses was a
[147] rich, warm, umber color. The ceiling consisted of large square
panels of old cedar richly grained. This room was comparatively
modern, having been built in 1868.
Fig. 127 represents a room in the second story of a house
in Tokio. The recesses were remarkably rich and effective.
The entire end of the room formed a recess, having a plaited
ceiling; and within this recess were the tokonoma and chigai-
dana, each having its own hooded partition at a different level
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 137

Fig. 126.—Guest-koom in Kiyomidzu, Kioto.

and depth,—the vertical partition usually dividing these recesses

being represented only by a square beam against the wall. A
reference, however, to the figure will convey a clearer idea of
these features than any description. The ceiling, which was quite
remarkable in its way, will be described later.
The next interior (fig. 128) represents a room in a country
house of the poorer class. The recesses were of the plainest
description. The tokonoma was modified in a curious way by a
break in the partition above, and beneath, this modification was
a shelf wrought out of a black, worm-eaten plank from some old [148]
shipwreck. The chigai-dana had an angular-shaped shelf in one
of its corners, and in the other corner two little shelves supported
by a post. The floor of this recess was on a level with the mats,
while the floor of the tokonoma was only slightly raised above
this level.
The figures of interiors thus far given present some idea of
the infinite variety of design seen in the two recesses which
characterize the best room in the house. The typical form having
been shown in fig. 96, it will be seen how far these bays may vary
in form and structure while still possessing the distinguishing
features of the tokonoma and chigai-dana. In the first recess
hangs the ever present scroll, upon which may be a picture; or it
may present a number of Chinese characters which convey some
138 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 127.—Guest-room of dwelling in Tokio.

Fig. 128.—Guest-room of a country house.

moral precept, or lines from some classical poem. On its floor

rests the vase for flowers, a figure in pottery, an incense burner,
a fragment of quartz, or other object, these being often supported
by a lacquer stand. In the chigai-dana convenient shelves and
closets are arranged in a variety of ways, to be used for a variety
of purposes.
The arrangement of the cross-ties in relation to the tokonoma
and shMji is illustrated in fig. 129, which shows the corner of a
room with the upper portion of the tokonoma and shMji showing.
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 139

Fig. 129.—Corner of guest-room.

The use made of the ornamental-headed nail is seen where the

kamoi joins the corner post. [149]
In houses of two stories greater latitude is shown in the
arrangement of these recesses. They may come opposite the
balcony, and the chigai-dana may have in its back wall an open-
ing either circular, crescent-shaped, or of some other form, from
which a pleasing view is obtained either of the garden below or
some distant range beyond.
Thus far we have examined the room which would parallel
our drawing-room or parlor; the other rooms vary from this in
being smaller, and having, of course, no recesses such as have
been described. By an examination of the plans given in the first
part of this chapter, it will be seen how very simple many of the
rooms are,—sometimes having a recess for a case of drawers or
shelves; a closet, possibly, but nothing else to break the rectan-
gular outline, which may be bounded on all sides by the sliding
fusuma, or have one or more permanent partitions.
Another class of rooms may here be considered, the details
of which are more severely simple even than those of the rooms
just described. These apartments are constructed expressly for
ceremonial tea-parties. A volume might be filled with a de-
scription of the various forms of buildings connected with these
observances; and indeed another volume might be filled with the
minor details associated with their different schools.
 140 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

In brief, the party comes about by the host inviting a company

of four to attend the tea-ceremony, and in their presence making
the tea in a bowl after certain prescribed forms, and offering it
to the guests. To be more explicit as to the mode of conducting
this ceremony,—the tea is first prepared by grinding it to a fine,
almost impalpable, powder. This may be done by a servant before
the assemblage of the guests, or may be ordered ground from a
tea shop; indeed, the host may grind it himself. This material,
always freshly ground for each party, is usually kept in a little
[150] earthen jar, having an ivory cover,—the well-known cha-ire of
the collector. Lacquer-boxes may also be used for this purpose.
The principal utensils used in the ceremony consist of a furo, or
fire-pot, made of pottery (or use may be made of a depression in
the floor partially filled with ashes, in which the charcoal may be
placed); an iron kettle to boil the water in; a bamboo dipper of the
most delicate construction, to dip out the water; a wide-mouthed
jar, from which to replenish the water in the kettle; a bowl, in
which the tea is made; a bamboo spoon, to dip out the powdered
tea; a bamboo stirrer, not unlike certain forms of egg-beaters, by
which the tea is briskly stirred after the hot water has been added;
a square silk cloth, with which to wipe the jar and spoon properly;
a little rest for the tea-kettle cover, made of pottery or bronze or
section of bamboo; a shallow vessel, in which the rinsings of the
tea-bowl are poured after washing; a brush, consisting of three
feathers of the eagle or some other large bird, to dust the edge
of the fire-vessel; and finally a shallow basket, in which is not
only charcoal to replenish the fire, but a pair of metal rods or
hibashi to handle the coal, two interrupted metal rings by which
the kettle is lifted off the fire, a circular mat upon which the
kettle is placed, and a small box containing incense, or bits of
wood that give out a peculiar fragrance when burned. With the
exception of the fire-vessel and an iron kettle, all these utensils
have to be brought in by the host with great formality and in a
certain sequence, and placed with great precision upon the mats
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 141

after the prescribed rules of certain schools. In the making of the

tea, the utensils are used in a most exact and formal manner.
The making of the tea, watched by one knowing nothing
about the ceremony, seems as grotesque a performance as one
can well imagine. Many of the forms connected with it seem
uselessly absurd; and yet having taken many lessons in the art
of tea-making, I found that with few exceptions it was natural
and easy; and the guests assembled on such an occasion, though [151]
at first sight appearing stiff, are always perfectly at their ease.
The proper placing of the utensils, and the sequence in handling
them and making the tea are all natural and easy movements, as I
have said. The light wiping of the tea-jar, and the washing of the
bowl and its wiping with so many peripheral jerks, the dropping
of the stirrer against the side of the bowl with a click in rinsing,
and a few of the other usual movements are certainly grotesquely
formal enough; but I question whether the etiquette of a cere-
monious dinner-party at home, with the decorum observed in the
proper use of each utensil, does not strike a Japanese as equally
odd and incomprehensible when experienced by him for the first
time.
This very brief and imperfect allusion has been made in order
to explain, that so highly do the Japanese regard this ceremony
that little isolated houses are specially constructed for the express
purpose of entertaining tea-parties. If no house is allotted for
the purpose, then a special room is fitted for it. Many books
are devoted to the exposition of the different schools of tea-cer-
emonies, illustrated with diagrams showing the various ways of
placing the utensils, plans of the tea-rooms, and all the details
involved in the observances.
The tea-ceremonies have had a profound influence on many
Japanese arts. Particularly have they affected the pottery of
Japan; for the rigid simplicity, approaching an affected rough-
ness and poverty, which characterizes the tea-room and many of
the utensils used in the ceremony, has left its impress upon many
 142 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

forms of pottery. It has also had an influence on even the few

rustic and simple adornments allowed in the room, and has held
its sway over the gardens, gateways, and fences surrounding the
house. Indeed, it has had an effect on the Japanese almost equal
to that of Calvinistic doctrines on the early Puritans. The one
[152] suppressed the exuberance of an art-loving people, and brought
many of their decorative impulses down to a restful purity and
simplicity; but in the case of the Puritans and their immediate
descendants, who had but little of the art-spirit to spare, their
sombre dogmas crushed the little love for art that might have
dawned, and rendered intolerably woful and sepulchral the lives
and homes of our ancestors; and when some faint groping for
art and adornment here and there appeared, it manifested itself
only in wretched samplers and hideous tomb-stones, with tearful
willow or death-bed scenes done in cold steel. Whittier gives a
good picture of such a home, in his poem “Among the Hills”:—

bookless, pictureless,
Save the inevitable sampler hung
Over the fireplace; or a mourning-piece,—
A green-haired woman, peony-cheeked, beneath
Impossible willows; the wide-throated hearth
Bristling with faded pine-boughs, half concealing
The piled-up rubbish at the chimney's back.
[153]
But we are digressing. Having given some idea of the for-
mal character of the tea-ceremonies, it is not to be wondered
at that special rooms, and even special buildings, should be
designed and built expressly for those observances. We give a
few illustrations of the interiors of rooms used for this purpose.
Fig. 130 is that of a room in Nan-en-ji temple, in Kioto,
said to have been specially designed, in the early part of the
seventeenth century, by Kobori Yenshiu,—a famous master of
tea-ceremonies, and a founder of one of its schools. The room
was exceedingly small, a four and a half mat room I believe,
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 143

Fig. 130.—Tea-room in Nan-en-ji temple, Kioto.

Fig. 131.—Tea-room in Fujimi pottery, Nagoya.

which is the usual size. The drawing, from necessity of perspec-

tive, makes it appear much larger. The ceiling was of rush and
bamboo; the walls were roughly plastered with bluish-gray clay;
the cross-ties and uprights were of pine, with the bark retained.
The room had eight small windows of various sizes, placed at
various heights in different parts of the room; and this was in [154]
accordance with Yenshiu's taste. Only one recess, the tokonoma,
is seen in the room,—in which may hang at the time of a party
a picture, to be replaced, at a certain period of the ceremony, by
a hanging basket of flowers. The ro, or fireplace, is a depressed
area in the floor, deep enough to hold a considerable amount of
 144 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

ashes, as well as a tripod upon which the kettle rests.

Fig. 131 represents an odd-looking tearoom, at the Fujimi
pottery, in Nagoya, where tea was made and served to us by the
potter's daughter. The room was simple enough, yet quite ornate
compared with the one first described. The ceiling consisted of
a matting of thin wood-strips, bamboo and red pine being used
for the cross-ties and uprights. The tokonoma, having a bamboo
post, is seen at the left of the figure. The ro, in this case, was
triangular.

Fig. 132.—Tea-room in Miyajima.

In fig. 132 is represented a view of a small tea-room at

Miyajima; the chasteness of its finish is but feebly conveyed in
the figure. Here the ro was circular, and was placed in a wide
plank of polished wood. The room was connected with other
[155] apartments of the house, and did not constitute a house by itself.
In some houses there is a special place or room adjoining the
tea-room, in which the tea-utensils are kept properly arranged,
and from which they are brought when tea is made, and to which
they are afterwards returned with great formality. Fig. 133
represents one of these rooms in a house in Imado, Tokio. In this
room the same simplicity of finish was seen. It was furnished
[156] with shelves, a little closet to contain the utensils, and a de-
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 145

pressed area in the floor, having for its bottom a bamboo grating
through which the water ran when emptied into it. Resting upon
this bamboo grating were a huge pottery-vessel for water and a
common hand-basin of copper. The floor was of polished wood.
At the farther end was the entrance, by means of a low door,
closed by fusuma.

Fig. 133.—Kitchen for tea-utensils.

In fig. 134 is given the view of a room in a Tokio house that

was extremely ornate in its finish. The owner of the house had
built it some thirty years before, and had intended carrying out
Chinese ideas of design and furnishing. Whether he had got his
ideas from books, or had evolved them from his inner conscious-
ness, I do not know; certain it is, that although he had worked into
its structure a number of features actually brought from China, [157]
I must say that in my limited observations in that country I saw
nothing approaching such an interior or building. The effect of
the room was certainly charming, and the most elaborate finish
 146 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 134.—Tea-room in Imado, Tokio.

with expensive woods had been employed in its construction.

It seemed altogether too ornamental for the tea-ceremonies to
suit the Japanese taste. The ceiling was particularly unique; for
running diagonally across it from one corner to the other was a
stout bamboo in two curves, and upon this bamboo was engraved
a Chinese poem. The ceiling on one side of the bamboo was fin-
ished in large square panels of an elaborately-grained wood; on
the other side were small panels of cedar. Exotic woods, palms,
[158] bamboo, and red-pine were used for cross-ties and uprights. The
panels of the little closet in some cases had beautiful designs
painted upon them; other panels were of wood, with the designs
inlaid in various colored woods,—the musical instrument, the
biwa, shown in the sketch, being inlaid in this way. The walls
were tinted a sober brown. It was certainly one of the most
unique interiors that I saw in Japan. To the right of the tokonoma
the apartment opened into a small entry which led to a flight of
stairs,—for this room was in the second story of the house. The
corner of the room, as it appeared from the tokonoma, is shown
in fig. 135. The long, low window (which also shows in fig. 134)
opened on the roof of the entrance below; another narrower and
higher window opened on the roof of an L. In the little recess,
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 147

which has for a corner-post a crooked stick,—the crook forming

one border of an opening in the corner.—was hung a picture or a
basket of flowers.

Fig. 135.—Corner of the tea-room shown in Fig. 134.

The second stories of shops are often used as living rooms.

Fig. 136 represents a room of this nature in a shop in Kawagoye,
in Musashi, nearly three hundred years old. Two long, low win-
dows, opening on the street, were deeply recessed and heavily
barred; above these openings were low deep cupboards, closed
by long sliding doors. The room was dusty and unused, but I
could not help noticing in this old building, as in the old buildings
at home, the heavy character of the framework where it appeared
in sight.
Reference has been made to the fact that kura, or fire-proof
buildings, are often fitted up for living-rooms. Fig. 137 (see page
160) represents the lower room of the corner building shown on
page 75 (fig. 57). It has already been stated that the walls of such
a building are of great thickness, and that one small window and
doorway are often the only openings in the room. The walls are
consequently cold and damp at certain seasons of the year. [159]
 148 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

For the fitting up of such a room, to adapt it for a living-place,

a light frame-work of bamboo is constructed, which stands away
from the walls at a distance of two or three feet; upon this, cloth
is stretched like a curtain. The frame-work forms a ceiling as
well, so that the rough walls and beams of the floor above are
concealed by this device. At one side the cloth is arranged to
be looped up like a curtain, so that one may pass outside the
drapery.

Fig. 136.—Room in second story of an old building in

Kawagoye, Musashi.

The owner of this apartment was an eminent antiquarian,

and the walls of the room were lined with shelves and cas-
es which were filled with old books and pictures, rare scrolls,
and bric-a-brac. A loft above, to which access was gained by
a perilous flight of steps, was filled with ancient relics of all
kinds,—stone implements, old pottery, quaint writing-desks, and
rare manuscripts. The cloth which formed this supplementary
partition was of a light, thin texture; and when the owner went
in search of some object on the other side of it, I could trace him
[160] by his candle-light as he wandered about behind the curtain. The
furniture us in the room, and shown in the sketch,—consisting
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 149

of bookshelves, table, hibachi, and other objects,—was in nearly

every case precious antiques.
That the rooms of kura were fitted up in this way in past
times is evident in the fact that old books not only represent this
method in their pictures, but special details of the construction of
the framework are given. In an old book in the possession of Mr.
K——, published one hundred and eighty years ago, a figure of
one of these frames is given, with all the details of its structure,
metal sockets, key-bolts, etc., a copy of which may be seen in
fig. 138.

Fig. 137.—Room in kura fitted up as a library, Tokio.

In connection with this room, and the manner of looping up

the curtains at the side, I got from this scholar the first ratio-
nal explanation of the meaning of the two narrow bands which
hang down from the upper part of the usual form of a Japanese
picture,—the kake-mono. That these were survivals of useful [161]
appendages,—rudimentary organs, so to speak, there could be
no doubt. Mr. K——told me that in former times the pictures,
mainly of a religious character, were suspended from a frame.
Long bands trailed down behind the picture; and shorter ones, so
as not to obscure it, hung down in front. When the picture was
rolled up, it was held in position by tying these bands. When
 150 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

the custom came to hang these pictures permanently against the

wall, the long bands were finally discarded, while the shorter
ones in front survived. In old books there are illustrated methods
by which curtain-like screens hanging on frames were tied up
in this way,—the long bands being behind, and the short ones
showing in front. When the wind blew through the apartment
the curtains were tied up; and, curiously enough, the bands on a
kake-mono are called fk-tai, or kaze-obi, which literally means
“wind-bands.” This is the explanation given me; but it is quite
probable that large pictures hanging against the walls, when
disturbed by the wind, were tied up by these bands.

Fig. 138.—Framework for draping room in kura.

While the kura generally stands isolated from the dwelling-

house, it is often connected with the house by a light structure of
[162] wood, roofed over, and easily demolished in case of a fire. Such
an apartment may be used for a kitchen, or porch to a kitchen,
or store-room for household utensils. A figure is here given (fig.
139) showing the appearance of a structure of this kind, which
[163] is lightly attached to the sides of the kura. This apartment was
used as a store-room, and in the sketch is shown a wooden case,
lanterns, and buckets, and such objects as might accumulate in a
shed or store-room at home.
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 151

Fig. 139.—Space between dwelling and kura, roofed over and

utilized as a kitchen in Tokio.

The ponderous doors of the kura, which are kept permanently

open, have casings of boards held in place by a wooden pin,
which passes through an iron staple in the door. This casing is to
protect the door—which, like the walls of the kura, is composed
of mud and plaster supported by a stout frame—from being
scarred and battered; and at the same time it is so arranged that
in case of fire it can be instantly removed and the door closed.
The light structure forming this porch may quickly burn down,
leaving the kura intact.
Oftentimes the outside of the kura has a board-casing kept
in place by long wooden strips, which drop into staples that are [164]
firmly attached to the walls of the kura. These hooks may be seen
in fig. 57, though in the case of this building the wooden casing
had never been applied. Casings of this nature are provided the
better to preserve the walls from the action of the weather.
In fig. 139 (see page 162) the kura had been originally built
some fifteen feet from the main house, and subsequently the
152 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 140.—Doorway of an old kura in Kioto.

intervening space had been roofed over as shown in the drawing.

The doors of the kura are ponderous structures, and are usually
left open for ventilation; a heavily grated sliding-door, however,
closes the entrance effectually when the thick doors are left
open. Fig. 140 represents the doorway of an old kura in Kioto
illustrating these features. In fig. 141 the large key is the one
belonging to the inner grated door, while fig. 142 shows the
padlock to the outer doors.

Fig. 141.—Key to kura, and bunch of keys.

CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 153

Fig. 142.—Padlock to kura.

The upper room of the kura is often utilized as a store-room,

taking the place of the country attic; and one may find here
bundles of dried herbs, corn, an old spinning-wheel, chests, and
indeed just such objects as ultimately find a resting-place in our
attics at home. In this section it would have been more systematic
to deal with the tokonoma and chigai-dana separately; but in the
description of interiors, it was difficult to describe them without [165]
including under the same consideration these recesses, as they
form an integral part of the principal room.
In my remarks on house-construction, reference was made to
the ceiling and the way in which it is made and held in place,
the form of ceiling there described being the almost universal
one throughout the country. The Japanese word for ceiling is
tenjo,—literally, “heaven's well.”
In selecting wood for the ceiling, great care is taken to secure
boards in which the grain is perfectly even and regular, with no
signs of knots. A wood much prized for the ceiling, as well as
for other interior finish, is a kind of cedar dug up from swamps
in Hakone, and other places in Japan. It is of a rich, warm gray
or brown color; and oftentimes planks of enormous thickness
are secured for this purpose. This wood is called Jin-dai-sugi,
meaning “cedar of God's age.” A wood called hi-no-ki is often
used for ceilings.
It is rare to see a ceiling differing from the conventional form,
consisting of light, thin, square strips as ceiling-beams, upon
which rest crosswise thin planks of wood with their edges over-
lapping. One sees this form of ceiling everywhere, from north
to south, in inns, private dwellings, and shops. This form is as
universal in Japan as is the ordinary white plaster-ceiling with
 154 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

us. In many other forms of ceiling, however, wood of the most

tortuous grain is preferred.
In the little houses made for the tea-parties the ceiling is
often of some rustic design,—either a layer of rush resting on
bamboo rafters, or thin, wide strips of wood braided or matted
like basket-work.
Sometimes the ceiling instead of being flat is arching; that is,
the sides run up like a roof, and meet above in a flat panel, or the
[166] ceiling may be made up of panels either square or angular.

Fig. 143.—Panelled ceiling.

A very elaborate and beautiful ceiling is seen in fig. 127 (see

page 146). The structure is supposed to be in imitation of country
thatched roof. The centre panel consists of a huge plank of cedar,
the irregular grain cut out in such a way as to show the lines in
high-relief, giving it the appearance of very old wood, in which
the softer lines have been worn away. The round sticks which
form the frame for the plank, and those bordering the ceiling,
as well as those running from the corners of the ceiling to the
corners of the plank, are of red pine with the bark unremoved.
The radiating rafters are of large yellow bamboo, while the
smaller beams running parallel to the sides of the room consist of
small dark-brown and polished bamboo; the body of the ceiling
is made up of a brown rush, called hagi,—this representing the
thatch. This ceiling was simply charming; it was clean, pure, and
effective; it gave the room a lofty appearance, and was moreover
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 155

thoroughly constructive. Our architects might well imitate it

without the modification of a single feature.
The ceiling figured on page 156 (fig. 134) consisted of square
panels of cedar, arranged on either side of a double curved bam-
boo, which ran across the ceiling diagonally from one corner of
the room to another. Upon the bamboo was engraved a Chinese
poem, in beautiful characters. The beauty of this ceiling con-
sisted not only in its general quaint effect, but in the rich woods
and good workmanship everywhere displayed in its construction.
The same might be said of the ceiling shown in fig. 126 (see page
145); here, indeed, the whole room was like a choice cabinet. [167]
Lately, these panelled ceilings have come more into use. Fig.
143 represents a form of ceiling which may be occasionally seen,
consisting of large, square planks of sugi, with a framework of
bamboo or keyaki wood.
It seems a little curious that the space enclosed under the roof
(a garret in fact) is rarely, if ever, utilized. Here the rats hold high
carnival at night; and one finds it difficult to sleep, on account
of the racket these pests keep up in racing and fighting upon the
thin and resonant boards composing the ceiling. The rats make
a thoroughfare of the beam which runs across the end of the
house from one corner to the other; and this beam is called the
nedzumi-bashira,—literally, “rat-post.”
In my remarks on house-construction I made mention of the
plaster walls, and of the various colored sands used in the plaster.
There are many ways of treating this surface, by which curious
effects are obtained. Little gray and white pebbles are sometimes
mixed with the plaster. The shells of a little fresh-water bivalve
(Corbicula) are pounded into fragments and mixed with the plas-
ter. In the province of Mikawa I saw an iron-gray plaster, in
which had been mixed the short fibres of finely-chopped hemp,
the fibres glistening in the plaster; the effect was odd and striking.
In the province of Omi it was not unusual to see white plastered
surfaces smoothly finished, in which iron-dust had been blown
 156 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

evenly upon the surface while the plaster was yet moist, and,
oxidizing, had given a warm brownish-yellow tint to the whole.
In papering plaster-walls rice-paste is not used, as the larvae of
certain insects are liable to injure the surface. In lieu of this a kind
of seaweed similar to Iceland moss is used, the mucilaginous
portion of which forms the cement. This material is used in
sizing paper, and also in the pasteboard or stiff paper which is
[168] made by sticking a number of sheets together.
Plastered rooms are often papered; and even when the plaster
is tinted and the plastered surface is left exposed, is customary
to use a paper called koshi-bari, which is spread on the wall to
a height of two feet or more in order to protect the clothes from
the plaster. This treatment is seen in common rooms.
Simple and unpretending as the interior of a Japanese house
appears to be, it is wonderful upon how many places in their
apparently naked rooms the ingenuity and art-taste of the cabi-
net-maker can be expended. Naturally, the variety of design and
finish of the tokonoma and chigai-dana is unlimited save by the
size of their areas; for with the sills and upright posts, the shelves
and little closets, sliding-doors with their surfaces for the artists'
brush, and the variety of woods employed, the artisan has a wide
field in which to display his peculiar skill. The ceiling, though
showing less variety in its structure, nevertheless presents a good
field for decorative work, though any exploits in this direction
outside the conventional form become very costly, on account
of the large surface to deal with and the expensive cabinet-work
required. Next to the chigai-dana in decorative importance (ex-
cepting of course the ceiling, which, as we have already seen,
rarely departs from the almost universal character of thin boards
and transverse strips), I am inclined to believe that the ramma
receives the most attention from the designer, and requires more
delicate work from the cabinet-maker. It is true that the areas
to cover are small, yet the designs which may be carved or
latticed,—geometric designs in fret-work, or perforated designs
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 157

in panel,—must have a strength and prominence not shown in

the other interior finishings of the room.
The kamoi, or lintel, as we have seen, is a beam that runs
entirely across the side of the room at the height of nearly six feet [169]
from the floor (fig. 103). On its under surface are the grooves
in which the fusuma run; between this beam and the ceiling is a
space of two feet or more depending, of course, upon the height
of the room. The height of the beam itself from the floor, a
nearly constant factor, is always lower than are our doorways,
because the average height of the Japanese people is less than
ours; and aggravatingly low to many foreigners is this beam, as
can be attested by those who have cracked their heads against
it in passing from one room to another. The space between the
kamoi and the ceiling is called the ramma, and offers another
field for the exercise of that decorative faculty which comes so
naturally to the Japanese. This space may be occupied simply by
a closed plastered partition, just as in our houses we invariably
fill up a similar space which comes over wide folding doors
between a suite of rooms. In the Japanese room, however, it is
customary to divide this space into two or more panels,—usually
two; and in this area the designer and wood-worker have ample
room to carry out those charming surprises which are to be seen
in Japanese interiors.

Fig. 144.—Ramma in Hakòne Village.

 158 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

The designs are of course innumerable, and may consist of

diaper-work and geometric designs; or each panel may consist
of a single plank of wood with the design wrought out, while
the remaining wood is cut away, leaving the dark shadows of the
room beyond as a back-ground to the design; or the design may
[170] be in the form of a thin panel of cedar, in which patterns of birds,
flowers, waves, dragons, or other objects are cut out in perforated
work. Fret-work panels are very often used in the decoration of
the ramma, of designs similar to the panels now imported from
Japan; but the figures are worked out larger patterns.

Fig. 145.—Bamboo ramma.

Light and airy as the work seems to be, it must nevertheless

be strongly made, as it is rare to see any displaced or broken
portions in panels of this nature.
The design represented in fig. 144 is from a ramma in an
old house in the village of Hakòne. The room was very large,
and there were four panels in the ramma, which was nearly
twenty-four feet long. A light trellis of bamboo is a favorite
and common device for this area. Fig. 145 gives a simple The
design represented in fig. 144 is from a ramma in an old house
in the village of Hakòne. The room was very large, and there
were four panels in the ramma, which was nearly twenty-four
feet long. A light trellis of bamboo is a favorite and common
device for this area. Fig. 145 gives a simple form of this nature,
which may be often seen. In a house in Tokio we saw a similar
design carried out in porcelain (fig. 146),—the central vertical
rod having a dark-blue glaze, while the lighter horizontal rods
were white in color. It should be understood that in every case the
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 159

interspaces between the designs, except in the perforated ones,

are freely open to the next room. By means of these open ramma
much better ventilation of the rooms is secured when the fusuma
is closed. A combination of perforated panels and a grating of [171]
bamboo is often seen (fig. 147).

Fig. 146.—Porcelain ramma in Tokio.

Fig. 147.—Ramma of bamboo and perforated panel.

The ramma requiring great skill in design and execution are

those in which the wood-carver, having his design drawn upon a
solid plank, cuts away all the wood about it, leaving the design
free; and this is then delicately wrought.
In an old house at Gojio, Yamato, is a ramma having a single
panel the length of the room. Fig. 148 illustrates this design,
which consists of chrysanthemums supported on a bamboo trel-
lis, and was carved out of a single plank, the flowers and delicate
tracery of the leaves being wrought with equal care on both sides;
in fact, the ramma in every case is designed to be seen from both
rooms. I have often noticed that in quite old houses the ramma
was of this description. In an old house at Yatsushiro, in Higo, I
saw a very beautiful form of this nature (fig. 149). The ramma
was divided into two panels, and the design was continuous
from one panel to the other. It represented a rustic method of
conducting water by means of wooden troughs, propped up by
 160 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

branched sticks, and sticks tied together. The representation of

long leaves of some aquatic plant, with their edges ragged by
partial decay, was remarkably well rendered. The plank out
of which the design was wrought must have been less than an
inch in thickness, and yet the effect of relief was surprising. A
white substance like chalk filled the interstices of the carving,
giving the appearance that at one time the whole design had been
[172] whitened and the coloring matter had subsequently worn away.
The house was quite old, and the work had been done by a local
artist.
It is a remarkable fact, and one well worth calling attention
to, that in the smaller towns and villages, in regions far apart,
there seem to be artistic workmen capable of designing and
executing these graceful and artistic carvings,—for such they
certainly are. Everywhere throughout the Empire we find good
work of all kinds, and evidence that workmen of all crafts have
learned their trades,—not “served” them,—and are employed at
home. In other words, the people everywhere appreciate artistic
designs and the proper execution of them; and, consequently,
men capable in their various lines find their services in demand
wherever they may be. I do not mean to imply by this general
statement that good workmen in Japan are not drawn to the
larger cities for employment, but rather that the smaller towns
and villages everywhere are not destitute of such a class, and
that the distribution of such artisans is far more wide and general
than with us. And how different such conditions are with us
may be seen in the fact that there are hundreds of towns and
thousands of villages in our country where the carpenter is just
capable of making a shelter from the weather; and if he attempts
to beautify it—but we will not awaken the recollection of those
startling horrors of petticoat scallops fringing the eaves and every
opening, and rendered, if possible, more hideous by the painter.
Throughout the breadth and length of that land of thirty-six
million people men capable of artistic work, and people capable
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 161

of appreciating such work, abound. In our land of fifty-five mil-

lions one has to seek the great centres of population for similar
work,—for elsewhere the good work and its appreciation are
exceptional.
At Nagoya, in the house of a poor man, I saw a simple and
ingenious form of ramma, in which two thin boards, one of [173]
light and the other of dark cedar, had been cut in the form of [174]
mountain contours. These were placed in juxtaposition, and
from either side the appearance of two ranges of mountains was
conveyed. Fig. 150 gives a faint idea of the appearance: of this
simple ramma. There are many suggestions in the decoration
and utilization for ventilating rooms through certain portions of
the frieze, which might be adopted with advantage in the finish
of our interiors.

Fig. 148.—Carved wood ramma in Gojio Village, Yamato.

Fig. 149.—Carved wood ramma in town of Yatsushiro, Higo.

 162 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 150.—Ramma, composed of two thin boards, in Nagoya,

Owari.

As the room, when closed, receives its light through the shMji,
the windows proper—that is, certain openings in permanent par-
titions which may be regarded as windows—have in most cases
lost their functional character, and have become modified into
ornamental features merely, many of them being strictly decora-
tive, having none of the functions of a window whatever. These
openings assume an infinite variety of forms, and appear in the
most surprising places in the room. They may be placed low
down near the floor, or close to the ceiling; indeed, they occur
between the rooms when permanent partitions are present, and
similar openings may be seen in the partition which separates
the tokonoma from the chigai-dana. A window often occurs in a
partition that continues some little distance beyond the outer edge
of the tokonoma. This window is usually square, and is closed
by a shMji. The upper cross-piece of the shMji frame projects at
each end, so that it may be hung in place on iron hooks (fig.
[175] 151). If the window comes near the tokonoma the shMji is hung
on the outside of the room, as its appearance in this way is better
from within. If it occurs in a partition near the chMdzu-bachi,
the shMji is hung inside the room. Sometimes the shMji rests on
grooved cleats or bars, which are fastened above and below the
window, and oftentimes it runs inside the partition,—that is, in
a partition that is double. The shMji in this case is often made in
two portions, and parts to the right or left. The frame-work of the
shMji forming the windows is often a marvel of exquisite taste.
The designs are often geometric figures, as in fig. 152; though
other designs are seen, as in fig. 153, representing a mountain.
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 163

These designs, being made of very thin strips of white pine, it

would seem that in such examples portions of the frame-work
must have been fastened to the paper to keep them in place, for
there are no means of sustaining such a frame in position without
some such method.
At Nagoya, in an old house, I saw a remarkable partition of
dark cedar, in which a circular window, five feet in diameter,
was occupied by a panel of thin cedar, in which was a perforated
design of waves; the drawing was of the most graceful descrip-
tion. The curious, formal, curled tongues of water, like young
sprouting ferns, the long graceful sweep of the waves, and the
circular drops suspended above the breaking crests presented a
charming effect, as the light coming through from the outside
illuminated these various openings. [176]

Fig. 151.—ShMji for window.

Fig. 152.—ShMji-frame for window.

 164 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 153.—ShMji-frame for window.

When these windows occur in the second story they are ar-
ranged to overlook some pleasant garden or distant landscape;
for this purpose the window is usually circular, though it may be
in the shape of the crescent moon, or fan-shaped; indeed, there
seems to be no end to designs for these apertures. Openings of
this nature between rooms may or may not have shMji, but they
always have a lattice-work of bamboo, or some other material,
arranged in certain ornamental ways. The outside windows not
only have the shMji, but may have an ornamental lattice-work as
well. In fig. 121 the large circular window next the tokonoma had
a lattice-work of bamboo arranged in an exceedingly graceful
design.
Great attention is devoted to the window which comes in the
recess used for writing purposes. The frame of this window may
be lacquered, and the lattice-work and shMji are often marvels
of the cabinet-maker's art. Windows of curious construction are
[177] often placed in some passage-way or space at the end of the
verandah leading to the lavatory, when one exists. The accom-
panying figure (fig. 154) shows a window of this nature, seen
from the outside; the bars were of iron, and below the opening
the wood-finish consisted of alternate panels of cedar-bark and
light wood.
There are hundreds of forms of these windows, or mado, as
they are called. The few to which allusion has been made serve
to give one some idea of the almost entirely ornamental character
of these openings. It is worthy of note that each form has its
appropriate name, and books are specially prepared, giving many
designs of windows and their modes of construction.
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 165

Fig. 154.—Window.

In the chapter on Gardens a few descriptions and sketches are

given of other forms of windows belonging to summer-houses.
The open character of the Japanese house has caused the
development of a variety of forms of portable screens, bamboo
shades, curtains, and the like, upon which much ingenuity of
construction and an infinite amount of artistic talent have been
expended. The biyM-bu, or folding screens, are too well known to
require more than a passing allusion. These consist of a number
of panels or folds covered on both sides with stout paper. A
narrow border of wood forms an outer frame, and this may be
plain or lacquered. The end folds have the corners as well as
other portions of its frame decorated with wrought metal pieces.
Just within the frame runs a border of brocade of varying width,
and on its inner edge a narrow strip of brocade; within this
comes the panel or portion to receive the artist's efforts. Each
fold or panel may have a separate picture upon it; or, as is most
usually the case, a continuous landscape or composition covers
the entire side of the screen. Many of the great artists of Japan
have embodied some of their best works on screens of this kind,
and the prices at which some of these are held are fabulous. [178]
The rich and heavily-gilded screens now so rare to obtain are
 166 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

marvels of decorative painting. While the front of the screen may

have a broad landscape, the back may be simply a plain gold
surface, or have some sketchy touches of bamboo, pine, etc., in
black. I have been told that the gold-leaf was so thick on many
of the old screens, that the sacrilege has often been committed of
destroying them for the gold contained on their surfaces.
The six-panelled gold-screen is, beyond all question, the rich-
est object of household use for decorative purposes ever devised.
There certainly is no other device in which so many decorative
[179] arts are called into play. The rich lacquered frame, the wrought
metallic mountings, the border of gold brocade, and the great
expanse for the artist's brush (for when both sides of a six-fold
screen is decorated, an area is obtained nearly five feet in height
and twenty-four feet in length) give great variety for richness
of adornment. The rich, dead gold-leaf with which it is gilded
softens the reflections, and gives a warm, radiant tone to the light.
Its adjustable nature permits it to display its painting in every
light. We refer now, of course, to the genuine old gold-screens
which came in sets of two. One possessing a set of these screens
may consider himself particularly fortunate. The one figured
(fig. 155) has depicted upon it a winter scene painted by Kano
Tsunenobu, and is nearly one hundred and seventy years old;
the companion of this has represented upon it a summer scene,
by the same artist. On the reverse sides are painted with bright
and vigorous touches the bamboo and pine. Fig. 156 shows
one corner of the screen-frame with its metal mounting. These
screens may have two folds, or three, or even six, as in this case.
A set of screens when not in use are enclosed in silk bags, and
then placed in a long, narrow wooden box (fig. 157). This box,
like other articles of household use, such as bureaus and chests
of drawers, has long hanging iron handles, which when turned
upwards project above the level of the top, forming convenient
loops through which a stick may be passed,—and thus in case of
fire may be easily transported upon the shoulders of men.
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 167

Fig. 155.—BiyM-bu, or folding screen.

When the screen is unfolded and placed on the floor, various

devices are provided to prevent the end panels being swayed by [180]
the wind. These devices may be in the shape of some metal
figure which acts as a check, or a heavy weight of pottery made
in the shape shown in fig. 158, the end of screen fitting into the
slot in the weight.
On certain festival days, it is customary for the people bor-
dering the wider thoroughfares to throw open their houses and
display their screens; and in Kioto, at such times, one may walk
along the streets and behold a wonderful exhibition of these
beautiful objects.
A screen peculiar to Kioto, and probably farther south, is seen,
in which panels of rush and bamboo split in delicate bars are
inserted in each leaf of the screen. Such a screen when spread
admits a certain amount of light as well as air, and may be used
in summer.
A low screen of two folds, called a furosaki biyM-bu is placed
in front of the furo, or fire-vessel, used for boiling water for [181]
tea. The purpose of this is to screen the furo from the wind and
168 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 156.—Wrought metallic mounting of screen frame.

Fig. 157.—Screen-box.

prevent the ashes from being blown about the room. Sometimes
these screens are made in a rigid form of wood, with the wings
at right angles, the panels being of rush; and in the corner of the
screen a little shelf is fixed, upon which the tea-utensils may be
placed. Such an one is here figured (fig. 159); there are many
designs for this kind of screen.
In the old-fashioned genka, or hall-way, there stands a solid
screen of wood with heavy frame, supported by two transverse
feet. This screen is called a tsui-tate, and is an article of furniture
belonging to the hall. It is often richly decorated with gold
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 169

Fig. 158.—Foot-weight for screen.

Fig. 159.—Furosaki BiyM-bu.

lacquer, and is usually much lower in height than the ordinary

screen. In old Japanese picture-books this form is often repre-
sented. Diminutive models of the tsui-tate (fig. 160) are made in
pottery or porcelain, and these are for the purpose of standing in
front of the ink-stone to prevent the mats from being spattered
when the ink is rubbed. In another form of tsui-tate a stand is
made having uprights placed in such a way that a screen covered
with stout paper or a panel may be placed upon the stand and
held in a vertical position by these uprights, as shown in fig. 161. [182]

Fig. 160.—Model of tsui-tate in pottery.

 170 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

When the shMji are removed, and the room thrown wide open
to the light and air, curtains composed of strips of bamboo or
rush are used as sun-screens; these are generally hung up just
below the edge of the supplementary roof or hisashi or may be
suspended just outside the room. They can be rolled up and
tied, or dropped to any desired length. These curtains may be
either plain or have traced upon them delicate designs of vines
or gourds, or conventional patterns. These designs are produced
either by the joints on the bamboo being adjusted to carry out
a zigzag or other design, as shown in fig. 162 (A.), or else the
thin strips of bamboo may have square notches cut out from their
lower edges as in fig. 162 (B). In this case the shade of the room
within gives the necessary back-ground to bring out the design
as shown in fig. 163. These devices are called noren; if made of
bamboo, they are called sudare.
In illustrated books there is often seen figured a screen such
as is shown in fig. 164. This consists of a lacquered stand, from
[183] which spring two upright rods, which in turn support a transverse
bar not unlike some forms of towel-racks; dependent from this
is a curtain of cloth, which is long enough to sweep the floor. I
have never seen this object, though it is probably in use in the
houses of the Daimios.

Fig. 161.—Tsui-tate.
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 171

Fig. 162.—Bamboo curtains.

Fig. 163.—Bamboo curtain.

A screen or curtain is often seen in doorways and passageways,

consisting of a fringe of cords, upon which have been strung like
beads short sections of bamboo, with black seeds at intervals.
A portion of one of these fringed curtains is illustrated in fig.
165. Such a curtain has the advantage not only of being a good
screen, but the inmates may pass through it, so to speak, without
the necessity of lifting it. There are many forms of this curtain
to be seen, and at present the Japanese are exporting a variety of
delicate ones made of glass beads and sections of rushes.
Cloth curtains are used at the entrance to the kitchen, and
also to screen closet-like recesses. The cloth is cut at intervals,
leaving a series of long flaps. This curtain is not readily swayed [184]
the wind, and can easily be passed through as one enters room
(fig. 166). In front of the Japanese shop one may see a similar
form of curtain slit at intervals, so that it may not be affected by
172 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 164.—Curtain screen.

Fig. 165.—Fringed curtains.

ordinary winds.
There are doubtless many other forms of screens and curtains
not here enumerated, but most of those described present the
common forms usually observed.
CHAPTER III. INTERIORS 173

Fig. 166.—Slashed curtain.

CHAPTER IV. INTERIORS
(Continued).
[185]
The kitchen, as an apartment, varies quite as much in Japan as it
does in our country, and varies in the same way; that is to say,
in the country, in houses of the better class, both in Japan and
the United States, the kitchen is large and oftentimes spacious,
well lighted and airy, in which not only the preparation of food
and the washing of dishes go on, but in which also the meals are
served. The kitchen of the common city house in both countries is
oftentimes a dark narrow room, ill-lighted, and altogether devoid
of comfort for the cook. Among this class of houses the kitchen
is the least defined of Japanese rooms; it lacks that tidiness and
definition so characteristic of the other rooms. It is often a
narrow porch or shed with pent roof, rarely, if ever, possessing
a ceiling; its exposed rafters are blackened by the smoke, which
finds egress through a scuttle, through which often comes the
only light that illuminates the dim interior. In the city house the
kitchen often comes on that side of the house next the street,
for the reason that the garden being in the rear of the house the
best rooms face that area; being on the street too, the kitchen is
convenient for the vender of fish and vegetables, and for all the
kitchen traffic, which too often with us results in the strewing
of our little grass-plots with the wrapping paper of the butcher's [186]
bundles and other pleasing reminiscences of the day's dinner. In
country the kitchen is generally at the end of the house usually
opening into some porch-like expansion, where the tubs, bucket
etc., and the winter's supply of wood finds convenient storage.
In public inns and large country houses, and also in many of
the larger city tea-houses, the customary raised floor is divided
 176 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 167.—Kitchen in old farmhouse at Kabutoyama.

by a narrow area, which has for its floor the hard trodden earth;
and this area forms an avenue from the road to the heart of
the house, and even through the house to the garden beyond.
This enables one to pass to the centre of the house without the
necessity of removing one's shoes. Porters and servants bring the
[187] guest's baggage and deposit it directly upon the mats; and in the
inns more privacy is secured by the kago being brought to the
centre of the house, where the visitor may alight at the threshold
of the very room he is to occupy. A plank or other adjustable
platform is used to bridge this avenue, so that occupants may
go from one portion of the house to another in their bare or
stockinged feet.
If this area is in a public inn, the office, common room, and
kitchen border one side of this thoroughfare. In the common
room the baby-tending, sewing, and the various duties of the
family go on under the heavily-raftered and thatched roof, which
blackened by the smoke from the kitchen fire, and festooned with
equally blackened cobwebs, presents a weird appearance when
lighted up by the ruddy glow from the hearth. We speak now
of the northern country houses, particularly where the fireplace,
CHAPTER IV. INTERIORS (Continued). 177

Fig. 168.—Kitchen range.

as in the Aino house, is in the middle of the floor. In country

houses of the better class the kitchen is large and roomy; the well
is always conveniently near, and often under the same roof. An
enormous quantity of water is used in the kitchen of a Japanese
house; and if the well is outside, then a trough is arranged beside
the well, into which the water is poured, and from this trough a
bamboo spout conveys the water into a big water-tank within the
kitchen. In the vicinity of the well it is always wet and sloppy;
the vegetables, rice, dishes, and nearly every utensil and article
of food seem to come under this deluge of water. [188]
Fig. 167 (page 186) gives a sketch of an old kitchen Kab-
utoyama in the western part of the province of Musashi. This
kitchen is nearly three hundred years old, and is the of a kitchen
of a wealthy and independent Japanese farmer. The great wooden
curbed well is seen in front, with a pulley above in which the
rope runs. Near by is a trough from which a bamboo spout leads
to some trough in another portion of the house. The kamado,
or cooking-range, is seen to the left, an beyond is a room partly
closed by fusuma. Directly beyon the well two girls may be seen
in the act of preparing dinner which consists in arranging the
dishes on little raised lacquer trays, which are to be carried in
when dinner is ready. Near the range are little portable affairs
made of soft stone used as braziers. The raised floor is composed
of broad planks; kitchens invariably have wooden floors, which
are oftentimes very smooth and polished.
 178 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

The usual form of kitchen range is represented in fig. 168;

this is made of broken tiles and mud or clay compacted together
and neatly plastered and blackened on the outside. In this range
there are two recesses for fire, which open directly in front; and
this structure rests upon a stout wooden frame having a place
for ashes in front, and a space beneath in which the wood and
charcoal are kept. Sometimes this range, retaining the same form,
is made of copper; within this water is kept, and little openings
permit the wine-bottle to be immersed in order to heat it, as the
sake is drunk hot without the admixture of hot water.
In another kitchen in a house in Imado, Tokio, a hood of sheet-
iron was arranged to convey the smoke outside the building. This
is probably a modern device (fig. 169).
In fig. 170 a sketch is given of a kitchen in Tokio in which
the range was a closed affair made of stone, with a funnel at
the end as in our stoves. I was told by the owner of this house
[189] that this kind of a stove had been in use in his family for three
[190] generations, at least. In this kitchen an area level with the ground
is seen, in which stands the sink containing an invert rice-kettle.
Beside the sink stands a huge water-jar, with water bucket and
water-dipper conveniently near; above is a shelf up which are
numerous buckets and tubs. On one of the posts hangs the usual
bamboo rack for skewers, wooden spoons, spatulas, etc., and
below it is a case for the meat and fish knives. On a bamboo pole
a few towels hang, and also two large fishes' heads from which
a thin soup is to be made. On a post near the mouth of the stove
hangs a coarse wire sieve with which to sift the ashes for the little
bits of unburnt charcoal, which are always frugally saved, and
near by is a covered vessel to hold these cinders. The customary
[191] stone brazier for heating water for the tea stands near the stove.
Fig. 171 represents more clearly the form of this brazier,
which is called a shichirin. It is a convenient and economical
device for the cooking of small messes or for boiling water,
charcoal being used for the purpose. Instead of bellows, a fan
CHAPTER IV. INTERIORS (Continued). 179

Fig. 169.—Kitchen range, with smoke-conductor.

is used for kindling or quickening a fire. A short bamboo tube

is also used through which the cook's lungs act as a bellows in
performing a like service.
Fig. 172 gives a clearer view of the bamboo rack and the
knife-case below, with which almost every kitchen is supplied.
Often in public inns the kitchen opens on the street, where the
cook may be seen conspicuously at work. In our country the
chop-houses oftentimes have the grilling and stewing ostenta-
tiously displayed in the same way, as an appetizing inducement
to attract guests.
Fig. 174 gives a view of a common arrangement for the
kitchen in the north of Japan, and in the country everywhere.
 180 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 170.—Kitchen in city house.

Fig. 171.—Braziers.

Here the fireplace is in the centre of the room. A kettle is

suspended over the fire by a chain, and other kettles are huddled
around it to be heated. Overhead a rack hangs, from which fish
[192] and meat are suspended, and thus the smoke which ascends from
the fire is utilized in curing them. Sometimes a large cushion
of straw is suspended above the smoke, and little fish skewered
with pointed sticks are thrust into this bunch of straw like pins in
a pin-cushion.
In fig. 175 a more elaborate affair is shown from which
to suspend the teakettle. This is a complex mechanism with a
curious joint, so that it may be hoisted or lowered at will.
CHAPTER IV. INTERIORS (Continued). 181

In the hut of the peasant a simple affair is seen (fig. 173) made
out of bamboo, which answers the same purpose. This is called
a ji-zai, which means “at one's will.” In the front of fig. 175 a
square copper box is noticed, having two round openings. This
box is filled with water, which becomes heated by the fire, and
is for the purpose of warming the sake, or wine. The tongs are
stuck into the ashes in one corner. These consist of a long pair
of iron chop-sticks held together at one end by a large ring, so
that one leg of the tongs, so to speak, may not get misplaced.
No inconsiderable skill is required to pick up hot coals with this
kitchen implement, as in unaccustomed or awkward hands the [193]
ring prevents the points from coming together.

Fig. 172.—Bamboo rack and knife case.

It may be proper to mention here an arrangement for holding a

pot over the fire, seen in a boat coming down the Kitakami River,
and which is probably used in the north of Japan, though I have
never seen it in the house. It consisted of an upright stick having
 182 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 173.—Ji-zai

a groove through the centre. In this groove fitted a jointed stick

resting horizontally, and arranged in such a way that it could be
adjusted at any height. Fig. 176 (page 195) will illustrate the
manner of its working better than any description can.
The floor of most rooms, being permanently covered with the
mats already described in previous chapters, has no special at-
tention bestowed upon it; at all events, the floor is often of rough
boards laid in such a way that irregular spaces occur between
them. When the house has a proper hall or vestibule, the floor is
composed of wide planks; and the smooth, ivory-like, polished
condition in which such floors are often kept is surprising. In
[194] country houses it is not unusual to see polished-wood floors in
portions of the front rooms, and as one rides along the road
he may often see the reflection of the garden beyond In their
[195] polished surfaces. In country inns the floor in the front of the
house is often of plank. Matted floors are, however, universal
from the extreme north to the extreme south of the Empire.
In houses of traders bordering the street the matted floor prop-
erly terminates a few feet within the sill, the space between being
of earth. The floor being raised, the space between the edge
CHAPTER IV. INTERIORS (Continued). 183

Fig. 174.—Fireplace in country house.

of the floor and the earth is generally filled with plain panels
of wood, though sometimes designs of flowers or conventional
figures are cut in the panel. These panels are often arranged so
that they can be removed, revealing a space under the floor in
which shoes, umbrellas, etc., can be stowed away.
One of the surprising features that strike a foreigner as he
becomes acquainted with the Japanese house is the entire ab- [196]
sence of so many things that with us clutter the closets, or make
squirrel-nests of the attic,—I speak now of the common house.
The reason of this is that the people have never developed the
miserly spirit of hoarding truck and rubbish with the idea that
some day it may come into use: this spirit when developed is
a mania converts a man's attic and shed into a junk shop. The
few necessary articles kept by the Japanese are stowed away in
boxes, cupboards, interspaces beneath the floors.
The kitchens in every case have wood floors, as do the halls,
verandahs, and all passage-ways. The ground beneath the floor
is, in the houses of the better class, prepared with gravel and
mortar mixed with clay, or macadamized.
 184 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 175.—The best fireplace.

A variety of closets is found in the Japanese house. The

larger closets, closed by sliding screens or fusuma, are used for
clothing and bedding. The tansu—a chest of drawers not unlike
our bureau—is often placed within the closet, which is also a
receptacle for chests and trunks. The ordinary high closet is not
[197] so often seen; and where in our houses it is deemed a necessity
to have each chamber provided with a closet, in the Japanese
house bed-chambers rarely contain such conveniences. There are
low cupboards or closets in certain recesses, the upper part or
top of which forms a deep open shelf. In the kitchen, dressers
and similar conveniences are used for the dishes. In the province
of Omi it is common to see a case of shelves with cupboard
beneath; upon the shelves the larger dishes are displayed. In the
kitchen there is often combined with the flight of stairs a closet;
CHAPTER IV. INTERIORS (Continued). 185

Fig. 176.—An adjustable device for supporting a kettle.

and this closet usually has a door swinging on hinges. In this

closet are often kept the bed-clothes, pillows, candle-sticks, and
night-lamps. Fig. 177 illustrates the appearance of this closet.
In the hallway, also, a closet is sometimes seen in which to
stow away the geta, or wooden clogs. A closet of this nature is
described farther on.
As most of the houses are of one story, and the area between
the ceiling and the roof never utilized, as with us, stairways are
not common; when they do occur they are primitive in their
construction. A stairway incorporated into the structure of a
building and closed below I have never seen in Japan; nor is
there any approach to the broad, low steps and landings or spiral
staircases such as we are familiar with in American houses. If
the house be of two stories the staircase assumes the form of
a rather precipitous step-ladder; that is, it has two side-pieces,
or strings, in which the steps, consisting of thick plank, are
mortised. This ladder is so steeply inclined that one has to step
sideways in ascending, otherwise his knee would strike the step
above. Rarely is there any convenience to hold on by: if present,
however, this consists of a strip of wood fastened to the wall,
or a rope is secured in the same way. The front of the step is
 186 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 177.—Kitchen closet, drawers, cupboard, and stairs

combined.

open,—that is, there is no riser; but if the back of the steps face
[198] an open room, then slats of wood are nailed on behind.
In a beautiful house recently erected in one of the imperial
gardens is a remarkably pure and simple staircase and rail (fig.
178).
In the inns and large farm-houses the step-ladder form is often
seen, and this is removable if occasion calls for it. Another kind,
common to the same class of houses, has the appearance of a
number of square boxes piled one upon another, like a set of dif-
ferent-sized blocks. This is a compact structure, however, though
in reality consisting of a number compartments which may be
separated. There are many forms of this kind of staircase. The
one shown in fig. 177 has the first two step closed; then comes
a low cupboard with sliding doors at the side, its upper corners
forming another step. Upon the cupboard rest three more steps,
each of which has a drawer which pulls out at the side. Next to
this comes a high closet, supporting on its top two or three more
steps. This closet usually has a swinging door,—a feature rarely
seen elsewhere within the Japanese house proper. This closet
contains on its floor the night-lamp, or andon, and tall candle-
CHAPTER IV. INTERIORS (Continued). 187

sticks, and above are stowed away the bedding and pillows; or it
may be used for trays and dishes. The steps are not so steep as
in the ladder-form, have no baluster or rail, and are remarkably
solid. It may be well to say here that the wood composing the
staircase, as well as certain floors, is highly finished, often with
a surface like polished ivory. I have frequently examined the
wood for evidences of wax or polish applied to its surface, but [199]
found none. Inquiry brought out the curious information that the
water from the bath is often used to moisten the cloth with which
the wood is wiped; and evidently the sebaceous secretions of
the skin had much to do with the beautiful polish often attained.
When a house possesses a genka, or hall, the steps, two or three
in number, are as broad as the hall, and generally the steps are
somewhat higher than our steps. These steps are in every case
permanently built into the structure of the floor. In the steps
which lead from the verandah to the ground the usual form is in
the shape of square or irregular blocks of stone or wood; if of
wood, the step may be a transverse section of some huge tree, or
a massive plank. Other forms of steps may consist simply of two
side-pieces, with the steps made of plank and mortised in (fig.
179); or a more compact structure may be made with a very low
hand-rail. These forms are all adjustable; that is, they may be
placed at any part of the verandah.

Fig. 178.—Stair-rail.
 188 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 179.—Steps to verandah.

There is no feature of social life in Japan which has been more

ignorantly, and in some cases wilfully, animadverted upon than
the custom of public bathing; nevertheless, I dare to say that there
is no feature in Japanese life to be more heartily commended than
this same system of public bathing. But by this assertion I do not
mean to suggest that we shall forthwith proceed to establish baths
[200] after the Japanese style, and take them after the Japanese fashion.
The Japanese, as well as other Eastern people, have for centuries
been accustomed to see nakedness, without its provoking among
them the slightest attention, or in any way suggesting immod-
esty. With us, on the contrary, the effect has been different;
and the dire result is seen in the almost utter extinction in our
country of the classical drama, and the substitution therefor of
ballet-dancing and burlesques,—of anything in fact that shall
present to the vulgar gaze of thousands the female form in scanty
apparel.16 A Turkish woman looks upon her Christian sister as
not only immodest and vulgar, but absolutely immoral, because
16
A correspondent in the “Pall Mall Gazette,” in protesting against the at-
tempt to impose European clothing on those people who are accustomed to go
without any, says: “In many parts of India there is a profound suspicion of the
irreligiousness of clothing. The fakir is distressed even by the regulation rag
upon which the Government modestly insists, and a fully dressed fakir would
be scouted. The late Brahmo minister, Chesub Chunder Sen, expressed the
belief that India would never accept a Christ in hat and boots. The missionary
should remember that clothes-morality is climatic, and that if a certain degree
of covering of the body has gradually become in the Northwest associated
with morality and piety, the traditions of tropical countries may have equally
connected elaborate dress rather with the sensualities of Solomon in his glory
than with the purity of the lily as clothed by Nature.”
CHAPTER IV. INTERIORS (Continued). 189

she unblushingly parades the public street with a naked face;

but the Christian woman knows that the established customs of
her country sanction such an exposure as entirely proper. A girl
who in our country would deem it immodest to appear among
the members of her own family in a robe de chambre, and yet
under the glare of a bright gas-light, in the midst of scores of
strangers, appears with low corsage, is committing an act which
to a Turkish woman would appear inexplicable. To a Japanese,
the sight of our dazzling ball-rooms, with girls in décolleté dress-
es, clasped in the arms of their partners and whirling to the sound
of exciting music, must seem the wildest debauch imaginable;
for in Japan the sexes, except among the lower classes, never
intermingle. No free and happy picnics, sleigh-rides, boat-sails,
and evening parties among the girls and boys are known there; no [201]
hand-shake, no friendly kiss. If the Japanese visitor in this coun-
try is a narrow-minded and witless scribbler, he will probably
startle his friends at home with accounts of the grossly immoral
character of Christians. Unfamiliar as he is with the corner loafer
eying every girl that walks by, or with that class which throng
our walks with the sole purpose of staring at the girls, who are
there for the purpose of being stared at, what must he think of
our people when he visits our summer resorts at the seaside and
sees a young girl—nay, swarms of them—tripping over the sand
under a bright sun, bare-legged, clad only in a single wrapper,
which when wet clings to her form and renders her an object of
contemplation to a battalion of young men who fringe the beach!
In Japan, among the lower classes, the sexes bathe together,
but with a modesty and propriety that are inconceivable to a
foreigner until he has witnessed it. Though naked, there is no
indecent exposure of the person. While in the bath they are
absorbed in their work, and though chatting and laughing seem
utterly unmindful of each other. The grossest libels have been
written about the Japanese in reference to their custom of public
bathing; and I hazard the statement, without fear of contradiction,
 190 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

that an intelligent Japanese, seeing many of our customs for the

first time, without knowing the conditions under which they had
grown up, would find infinitely more to condemn as immodest,
than an intelligent foreigner would find in seeing for the first
time certain Japanese customs, with the same ignorance at the
outset as to what such customs implied.
If cleanliness is next to godliness, then verily the Japanese
are a godly race.17 The simple statement, without qualification,
that numbers of Japanese in their public baths bathe in the same
[202] water would seem a filthy habit. Certainly if such a statement
were really true in regard to our own lower classes, it would
be a most filthy habit. When it is understood, however, that
the Japanese working classes—such as the carpenters, masons,
and others—often bathe two or three times a day, and must of
necessity enter the bath in a state of cleanliness such as our
workmen rarely if ever attain, the statement loses some of its
force. When it is further added that these people do not wash in
the baths, but boil or soak in them for a while, and then upon a
platform, with an extra bucket of water and a towel, wash and
dry themselves, the filthy character of this performance assumes
quite another aspect. A Japanese familiar with his airy and
barn-like theatres, his public readings under an open tent-like
structure, or gatherings in a room in which one or all sides may
be open to the air even in mid-winter, would look upon the usual
public gatherings of our people in lecture-halls, schoolrooms, and
other closed apartments, wherein the air often becomes so foul
that people faint and struggle to the door to get a breath of fresh
air,—a Japanese, I say, would justly look upon such practices
as filthy to the last degree. And what would he say to one of
our great political meetings, for example, where a vast unwashed
17
Rein says: “The cleanliness of the Japanese is one of his most commendable
qualities. It is apparent in his body, in his house, in his workshop, and no less
in the great carefulness and exemplary exactness with which he looks after his
fields.”
CHAPTER IV. INTERIORS (Continued). 191

herd of perspiring and excited people actually bathe their delicate

membranous lungs in the combined breath of hundreds!
The public baths, however, do not concern us,—though it may
be well to contrast our country with Japan in this respect, where
in the latter country every village and every town, and in the city
nearly every square, possess public baths where for the price of
a cent or two one may find conveniences for a hot bath; while in
our country public baths are only found in the larger cities, and
few of these even can boast of such a luxury. As for the private
houses in our country where bathing is customary, an inquiry
shows that few possess the convenience of a bath-tub. [203]
Among the masses of our people a Saturday-night wash may
or may not be enforced; when it is, this performance usually
takes place in the kitchen, with hot water furnished from the
kettle. But in Japan nearly every house among the higher and
middle classes possesses the most ample arrangements for hot
baths; and even among the poorer classes, in the country as well
as in the city, this convenience is not wanting, with the added
convenience of public baths everywhere attainable if desired.

Fig. 180.—Bath-tub with side oven.

There are many forms of bathing-tubs, all of them being large

and deep. Means for applying the heat direct, which is of course
the most economical, is attained in various ways. In the common
form (fig. 180), a small chamber of copper is introduced at one
end near the bottom of the tub,—the mouth having a frame of
stone, or of clay or plaster. In this chamber a fire is built, and the
 192 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 181.—Bath-tub with inside flue.

water can be brought, if necessary, to the boiling-point. Within

the tub a few transverse bars prevent the bather from coming in
contact with the hot chamber in which the fire is burning. In
another form a copper funnel or tube passes directly through the
bottom of the bathing-tub (fig. 181). The bottom of this tube
has a grating of wire; charcoal is then placed in the tube, and its
[204] combustion rapidly heats the water. A pan is placed below the
tube to catch the coal and ashes that fall through. In a more elab-
orate form (fig. 182), the bath-tub is in two sections, separated
by the partition of the room. These two sections are connected
by a number of bamboo tubes or flues, so that the water may
circulate freely. The section outside contains the fire-box, in
which the fire is built; by this arrangement the bather escapes the
discomfort of the smoke from the fire.

Fig. 182.—Bath-tub in section, with oven outside the room.

A very excellent form of bathing-tub is shown in fig. 183, in

which, outside the tub, is a chamber not unlike a small wooden
barrel closed at both ends; through this barrel runs a copper tube,
in which a fire of charcoal is built. The barrel is connected with
CHAPTER IV. INTERIORS (Continued). 193

Fig. 183.—Bath-tub with outside heating-chamber.

the bath-tub by a large bamboo tube, having a little square door

within, which the bather may close if the water becomes too
hot. In many cases a hood is arranged in such a way that the
smoke from the fire is carried off. These tubs stand on a large
wooden floor, the planks of which incline to a central gutter.
Here the bather scrubs himself with a separate bucket of water,
after having literally parboiled himself in water the temperature
of which is so great that it is impossible for a foreigner to endure [205]
it.
A very common form of bath in the country consists of a
large and shallow iron kettle, upon the top of which is secured
a wooden extension, so as to give sufficient depth to the water
within (fig. 184). The fire is built beneath the kettle,—the bather
having a rack of wood which he sinks beneath him, and upon
which he stands to protect his feet from burning. This tub is called
a Goyemon buro, named after Ishikawa Goyemon,—a famous
robber of Taiko's time, who was treated to a bath in boiling oil.

Fig. 184.—Bath-tub with iron base.

 194 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

There are doubtless other forms of bath-tubs with conve-

niences for heating the water, but the forms here given comprise
the principal kinds. There is no reason why similar conveniences
might not be adopted in our country in cases where aqueducts or
city supply is not available. There are many forms of foot-tubs
and large wooden tubs with high backs, in which hot water is
poured; but there is no necessity of describing them here.
While in a Japanese house, as we have seen, the most am-
ple conveniences exist for taking a hot or cold bath, the minor
conveniences for washing the face and hands are not always so
apparent. In such attempts one is more often reminded of a
primitive country house at home, where one either goes down to
the kitchen, and amid a clutter of pails and pans manages to wash
himself, or else takes a tin basin and goes out to the well,—and
this on a fresh cool morning is by far the more agreeable. In the
country a Japanese may be seen in the yard or by the roadside
[206] washing his face in a bucket or shallow tub; and at inns, and
even in private houses, one is given a copper basin, and a bucket
of water being brought he uses a portion of the verandah as a
wash-stand. That conveniences for this purpose do exist to some
extent may be seen from the accompanying sketches.
The one shown in fig. 185 may sometimes be found in country
inns at the north. This consists of a shallow trough resting on the
floor at the end of the verandah or passage-way. In the trough is
a stout water-bucket with cover, and a copper wash-basin.
The convenience shown in fig. 186 was in a private house
in Tokio. Here the trough was above the level of the floor, in
a recessed portion of a passage-way which ran behind a suite
of rooms. The wood-work about it was made with great care.
The sliding window-frames, covered with stout white paper,
admitted sufficient light; while the rich brown pottery-jar, the
clean wooden dipper, copper basin, and quaint towel-rack were
all attractive features from their very neatness and simplicity.
It may seem odd for one to get enthusiastic over so simple
CHAPTER IV. INTERIORS (Continued). 195

Fig. 185.—Lavatory in country inn.

Fig. 186.—Lavatory in private house.

an affair as a trough and a few honest contrivances for wash-

ing the hands and face; nevertheless such a plain and sensible [207]
arrangement is a relief, in contrast to certain guest-chambers at
home, where one wishing to go through the rather vigorous per-
formance of dashing into the water with his elbows outstretched,
finds these free movements curtailed to the last degree by a
regiment of senseless toilet articles in the shape of attenuated
bottles, mugs, soap-dishes with rattling covers, and diminutive
top-heavy pitchers crowded about his wash-basin, and all resting
on a slab of white marble. Things are inevitably broken if they
are brought down too hard upon such a bottom. After such
recollections, one admires the Japanese sink, with its durable
flat-bottomed basin, capacious pottery-jar for water, and ample
 196 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

space to thrash about in without fear of spattering the wall-paper

[208] or smashing a lot of useless toilet articles in the act.
The form last described is the usual one seen in private houses.
Conveniences of this nature that are brought to the level of the
floor, while giving the Japanese who are used to them no trouble,
are found to be exceedingly awkward for a foreigner, who is
obliged to go through his toilet in a stooping posture.
Often the toilet places are rendered exceedingly attractive by
the ornamental wood-work used in their construction.

Fig. 187.—Lavatory copied from Japanese book.

Fig. 187 is a drawing from a design in a Japanese book,

entitled “Yaye Gaki no Den.” I have modified the drawing to
conform more to our methods of perspective. This was placed
at the end of the verandah, and on a level with the floor. A low
partition formed a screen at one side; within the recess thus made
was a low shelf for the pottery water-jar. The floor of the sink
consisted of bamboo rods placed close together, through which
the spilled water found its way by proper channels to the ground
without. A paper-lantern hung against the wall, and dipper and
towel-rack were conveniently at hand. Other forms might be
given, but enough has been shown to illustrate how well these
conveniences are arranged for that important daily operation of
washing the face and hands. Further conveniences for simply
[209] washing the hands are offered in the chMdzu-bachi, description
and figures of which will be given under that head.
CHAPTER IV. INTERIORS (Continued). 197

Fig. 188-192.—Forms of towel-racks.

The towel-rack merits some attention from its exceedingly

simple structure. There are many forms, most of them rustic
in design and made to be suspended. The following figures
(figs. 188-192) illustrate some of the forms in common use. The
simplest kind is in the shape of a ring of bamboo suspended by a
larger bamboo, to the end of which it is attached. Another form, [210]
and a very common one, is a yoke of bamboo, the lower ends
of which are firmly secured to a larger bamboo, confining at the
same time a piece of bamboo which slides freely up and down
on the yoke, and by its own weight resting on the towel which
may be thrown across the lower bamboo. Another form consists
of a loop of bamboo suspended to the side of a board which is
hung against the wall.
The towels are pretty objects, being of cotton or linen, and
usually have printed upon them sketchy designs in two shades of
blue.
After living in Japan for a time one realizes how few are the
essentials necessary for personal comfort. He further realizes
that his personal comfort is enhanced by the absence of many
 198 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

things deemed indispensable at home. In regard to the bed and

its arrangements, the Japanese have reduced this affair to its
simplest expression. The whole floor, the whole house indeed,
is a bed, and one can fling himself down on the soft mats, in the
draught or out of it, upstairs or down, and find a smooth, firm, and
level surface upon which to sleep,—no creaking springs, hard
bunches or awkward hollows awaiting him, but a bed-surface
as wide as the room itself, and comfortable to the last degree.
To be more explicit, the bed is made upon the mats; there is
no bedstead, or frame, or circumscribed area of any kind upon
or within which the bed is placed.18 The bed-clothes consisting
of lightly or heavily wadded comforters are spread upon the
floor, one or more forming the bed, and another one acting as a
covering. The common ones are wadded with cotton; the best
ones are made of silk, and are stuffed with floss silk. In private
houses one often gets a bed consisting of a number of these silk
[211] comforters,—and a most delightful bed they make. In summer
the foreigner finds these wadded affairs altogether too hot and
stuffy; and at all times he misses the clean sheets which at home
intervene between the bed-clothes and his person,—though a
clean night-dress is provided if desired, and this answers as a
substitute for the sheets. In the day-time these comforters are
folded up and stowed away in some closet.
The usual form of pillow, or makura, consists of a light closed
wooden box, with a bottom either flat or slightly convex. On the
top of this box is secured a small cylindrically-shaped cushion
stuffed with buckwheat hulls. This cushion is tied to the box, and
the same string that holds it in place also secures the pillow-case,
which is simply a sheet of soft paper folded several times, as
shown in the figures here given (fig. 193).
There are many other forms of pillow, either in the shape of
a hard cushion or of a square oblong box, the ends being of
18
From the name tokonoma, which means “bed-place,” literally “bed of floor,”
it is supposed that in ancient times the bed was made or placed in this recess.
CHAPTER IV. INTERIORS (Continued). 199

Fig. 193.—Forms of pillow in common use.

wood, and the rest of basket-work. Porcelain pillows are also

seen, but rarely. There are also many forms of portable ones,
some of which fold and stow away in small compass, and others
of which are in the shape of a box, within which are drawers
and spaces for paper-lantern, matches, mirror, comb, and various
articles of the toilet. These are generally used by travellers. The [212]
Japanese, with a pillow of this kind, can literally take up his bed
and walk; for if he has a head-rest or pillow containing these
conveniences, he can get along very well. Pillows in all cases are
arranged to support the head naturally, when the shoulder rests
on the floor, as in the following figure (fig. 194). To a foreigner,
until he becomes accustomed to it, the Japanese pillow seems
exceedingly awkward, and his first experience with it results in a
stiff neck the next morning; and at intervals during the night he
has the sensation that he is falling out of bed, for any freedom of
movement of the head results in its downfall from the pillow.
Getting used to it, however, one recognizes that this pillow
has its good points; the neck is kept free for the air to circulate
beneath, and the head is kept cool. This peculiar form of pillow
was a necessity for the Japanese so long as the hair was done up
in the rigid queue, and is still a necessity for women with their
methods of hair-dressing; but with the general abandonment of
the queue on the part of the men, a few of them are resorting
to head-rests more like our pillows, though much smaller and
harder, and on the whole I believe many find this substitute more
comfortable.
This simple form of bed entails much less work on the cham-
 200 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 194.—Showing position of head in resting on pillow.

ber-maid than do our arrangements. In a large inn one girl will

do the chamber-work for the entire house. In fact this work is
ridiculously simple. The futons, or comforters, are rapidly folded
up and stowed away, or hung over the balcony rail to air. She
[213] gathers up a huge pile of the light pillow-boxes in her arms, and
carries them to the room below; here she unties the strings which
hold the cushions in place, substitutes clean sheets of folded
paper for the soiled ones,—and the work of bed-making is done.
With a duster, consisting of strips of tough paper tied to the end
of a slender bamboo, the rooms are dusted and made ready for
the next arrivals. As matters pertaining to the toilet are performed
in other portions of the house, the rooms are placed in order in
an incredibly short time.

Fig. 195.—Heating arrangement in floor.

In a crowded inn each guest may occupy the dimensions of

one mat; and the entire floor is occupied in this way. In winter a
thickly-wadded comforter is provided, which is made in the form
of a huge garment having capacious sleeves. Many rooms have a
square hole in the floor in which, when needed, a fire of charcoal
may be kindled; this is called a ro. Above the ro a square frame
of wood is adjusted, and the bed-clothes being placed over this
CHAPTER IV. INTERIORS (Continued). 201

frame are thoroughly heated, so that one may go to bed in the

warmest of nests. In the day-time one may gather a portion of
the bed-clothes about him, and keep warm by the little coal-fire
burning beneath. Fig. 195 is an illustration of this opening in the
floor, with frame-work above to keep the bedclothes from falling
on the fire below. A little wooden box is used for the purpose of
holding an earthen receptacle for coals, and this is taken to bed
as a substitute for the hot stone or brick which is often used at
home for a similar purpose. From the inflammable nature of the [214]
bedding, many fires must originate from carelessness in the use
of this luxury.
In this connection it may be well to add that oftentimes little
square thin cushions are provided for guests to sit upon; and
one often sees a light round cushion which is used as elbow-rest
when one is reclining (fig. 196).
Mosquito nettings, or kaya, are to be found in all houses, even
the poorest people being supplied with them. The usual form of
netting is made in the shape of a square box, nearly as large as
the room, and this, when placed in position, is suspended at the
four corners by cords which are tied to pegs in the four corners of
the room. A smaller netting for infants is made on a frame work
of bamboo like a cage, and this may be placed over the infant
wherever it may drop to sleep on the mats.

Fig. 196.—Elbow-rest.

An inseparable accompaniment of every Japanese home, from

the most exalted to the very humblest, is the hibachi. This object
consists of a vessel partially filled with fine ashes, containing
when in use a few bits of burning charcoal. This vessel may be of
bronze, iron, porcelain, earthenware, or even of wood lined with
 202 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

copper, or a wooden box containing an earthen vessel. The most

usual form of hibachi consists of a square wooden box lined with
copper, between which and the wood is a layer of clay or plaster
(fig. 200). A very cheap and common form is a wooden box
in which is a cylindrical jar of black unglazed earthenware (fig.
197).
A pair of iron rods generally held together at one end by a large
ring answer as tongs, being used after the manner of chop-sticks.
[215] These are either stuck in the ashes, or when the wooden box
contains the fire-vessel separately there may be secured in the
corner of this box a bamboo tube in which the tongs are kept.
In bronze hibachi there are handles or rings on the sides for
convenience of moving. In the square-box hibachi cleats are
nailed on opposite sides to answer as handles; or, as is more
usually the case, narrow holes are cut through the sides of the
box to accommodate the fingers, as shown in the previous figure
(197).

Fig. 197.—Common hibachi.

Much art and skill are displayed in the bronze and iron hibachi,
and forms such as might be found in an ordinary house in Japan
would be regarded as gems in collections of bric-à-brac at home.
Even the wooden hibachi are often objects of exquisite taste. We
recall an old one made of the richest grained wood, in which
were drawers at one end to hold pipes and tobacco, and around
the base of the box ran a deep band of black lacquer inlaid with
ornaments of pearl, the design representing in various positions
the iron bits of a horse. So various and oftentimes inexplicable
CHAPTER IV. INTERIORS (Continued). 203

are the surprises in their designs, that one might almost imagine
the decorator to have opened while blindfolded a dictionary of [216]
objects, and to have taken the first word he saw as the theme for
his subject.

Fig. 198.—Hibachi.

A very favorite form of wooden hibachi is shown in fig. 198.

This consists of a single piece of oak or other hardwood turned in
a cylindrical form, the grain being brought into relief by special
treatment, and the inside lined with copper. An old one richly
colored and polished by age is much esteemed.
The hibachi may be quite a large affair, and subserve the
duties of a stove as well. An iron ring having three legs, or
a grid spanning the box, is provided on which the tea-kettle is
supported, or even fishes broiled. The hibachi is a sort of portable
fireplace, around which the family gather to gossip, drink tea, or
warm their hands. The one represented in fig. 199 shows a little
child warming itself, while wrapped in a thick night-garment.
One will often observe a Japanese absent-mindedly stirring the
coals or ashes with the tongs, just as we are fond of doing at
home.
A sentiment prompts many families to keep the hibachi fire
burning continually; and I was told that in one family in Tokio
the fire had been kept alive continuously for over two hundred
years.
In a winter party the hibachi are previously arranged by the
servants, one being allotted to each guest; and the place where
each is to sit on the matted floor is often indicated by a little
 204 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 199.—Hibachi.

square cloth-cushion. Fig. 200 illustrates the arrangement of [217]

hibachi for company.
Whenever you call on a friend, winter or summer, his very
first act of hospitality is to place the hibachi before you. Even in
shops the hibachi is present, or is brought in and placed on the
mats when a visitor enters.

Fig. 200.—Hibachi arranged for company.

A smaller form of hibachi, called a tabako-bon (fig. 201), is

also usually brought to a visitor. It is a convenience used by
smokers, and is commonly in the form of a square wooden box
containing a small earthen vessel for holding hot coals, and a
segment of bamboo either with or without a cover. This last is a
hand cuspidore, and great refinement is shown in using it, either
by averting the head or screening the mouth with the hand. The
cuspidore, or spittoon, as commonly used by us, seems vulgar in
comparison with that of the Japanese. Sometimes the tabako-bon
is made out of the burl of an oak in which a natural depression
[218] occurs (fig. 202). This form is often seen in Japanese picture-
CHAPTER IV. INTERIORS (Continued). 205

books. Another form is shown in fig. 203. There many and

various designs for this convenience, some of then being very
odd. To replenish the hibachi with hot coals there is provided a
shallow iron bowl called a dai-jk-no (fig. 204).

Fig. 201.—Tabako-bon.

Upon the bottom of this bowl is riveted a bent strip of iron,

which in turn is secured to a stand of wood. The bowl has an
iron socket, into which is fitted a wooden handle. In this vessel
burning coals are brought by the servant.

Fig. 202.—Tabako-box.

Fig. 203.—Tabako-box.
 206 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

When the hibachi is properly arranged, it is customary to heap

the ashes in a pyramidal pile about the coals and mark a series
of radiating lines upon it. The charcoal to replenish the fire is
generally kept in a basket, though sometimes a deep wooden
box with a handle is used. The baskets used for this purpose are
always tasty affairs, having often a rich brown color from age.
In the basket is a pair of old brass or copper rods with which
to handle the coal. A single stick of coal buried vertically in
the ashes is burned for several hours. The charcoal-vender has
a curious way of utilizing the small and pulverized fragments of
the charcoal, by mixing the powder with some kind of sea-weed,
and then forming the mass into round balls the size of a large
orange. In making these balls he goes through a motion precisely
like that seen in making snow-balls. These are afterwards dried
[219] in the sun, and seem to burn very well. In riding along the streets
one often sees trays filled with these black balls exposed to the
sun.

Fig. 204.—Pan for holding burning charcoal.

Before kerosene oil was introduced into Japan the means of

illumination were of the most meagre description. One can hardly
realize the difficulty a student must have experienced in studying
his Chinese Classics by the feeble light emitted from tiny wicks,
or the dim and unsteady flame of a vegetable-wax candle,—a
light rendered all the more feeble when filtered through a paper
lantern. It is related that in former times devout students of
the Chinese Classics were accustomed at night to read a single
character at a time by the dim illumination of a glowing coal at
CHAPTER IV. INTERIORS (Continued). 207

the end of an incense-stick held close to the page! Of the many

things which the Japanese have adopted and promptly utilized
from Western nations, I know of nothing which has been so great
a boon to all the people as kerosene oil. The Western practice
of medicine is rapidly displacing the empirical Chinese practice,
and this when accomplished will be, beyond all question, the
greatest boon. There are many outlying districts, however, as
well as thousands of inhabitants of the cities, still under the sway
of Chinese methods, and the beneficent effects of the rational
treatment of disease has not yet been widely felt; but everywhere
throughout the Empire the bright light of kerosene has lengthened
the day for all.
Japanese candles are made of a vegetable wax, having a wick
consisting of a roll of paper, not unlike the ordinary paper lamp- [220]
lighter. This wick, being hollow, is fitted to a sharp spur of iron
about an inch long, in the candlestick (in England the pricket
candlestick went out of use a few centuries ago; in Japan it is still
retained). At the top of the candle the wick projects in a firm,
hard point. When a candle has burned low, it is removed from
the candlestick and placed on the end of the new candle, which
is then adjusted on the sharp spur. By this simple device all the
candle is utilized in combustion.
A superior kind of candle, made in the province of Aidsu, is
beautifully painted in bright colors, with designs of flowers and
other ornamental subjects.
Candles are depended upon to illuminate the rooms, as well
as to light the hand-lanterns which are carried about the streets,
and those which are used for the house,—these last consisting of
a square or hexagonal frame, covered with paper and attached to
the end of a short handle.
A common form of Japanese candlestick, called te-shoku, is
represented in fig. 205. It is a rude affair made of iron, supported
on three legs, and has a wide disk to prevent the melted wax from
dropping on the mats, and a ring about the candle to prevent its
 208 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 205.—Iron candlestick.

falling over. It is easily picked up from the floor by its longer

arm.
Another common form of candlestick consists of a hemispher-
ical base of brass, ten or fifteen inches in diameter, from which a
rod of the same metal runs up to the height of two feet or more,
on the end of which is the usual cup and spur. Candlesticks of
this description are seen in fig. 177 (page 196).
The snuffer is usually in the form of a blunt pair of tweezers,
with which the burnt wick is removed; the servants, however,
[221] often take the hibashi, or tongs, and, removing the wick, thrust it
into the ashes of the hibachi.
Candlesticks of rustic design, manufactured of curious woods,
are made at Nikko and other famous resorts, more as mementos
to carry away than as implements intended for actual use.
The Japanese lamp is usually in the form of a shallow saucer,
in which vegetable oil is burned. The wick, consisting of long
slender rods of pith, is held down by a little ring of iron, to which
a spur is attached for a handle. The unburned portion of the wick
projects beyond the saucer, and as it burns away at one end is
moved along. The saucer rests in a disk or ring of iron, which
is suspended within a frame covered with paper. A common
form of this lamp, or andon, is shown in fig. 206. It consists
of a square frame of wood covered with paper, open above and
[222] below, and having one side in the shape of a movable lid, which
can be raised when the lamp needs tending. This frame is secured
to two uprights, which spring from a wooden stand in which
may be a drawer containing extra wicks and a pair of snuffers.
These uprights extend above the lantern, and have a cross-piece
CHAPTER IV. INTERIORS (Continued). 209

by which the lantern is lifted, and another cross-bar just below

from which the lamp hangs. The light from this night-lamp is
feeble and uncertain, and by it one can barely see his way about
the room.

Fig. 206.—Lamp.

Fig. 207.—Lamp.
 210 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 208.—Lamp and laquered stand.

There are many kinds of andon, some being very ingenious.

One form is cylindrical, being composed of two frames, one
within the other,—the outer frame revolving in a groove in the
stand. One half of each lantern is covered with paper, so that by
turning the outer frame the openings are brought together, and
thus access is gained to the lamp. Another form of andon(fig.
207) opens in a different way, with a little shelf in one corner to
hold the saucer of oil.
Still another form (fig. 208) is copied from an old colored pic-
ture-book; this consists of an elaborate lacquered stand mounted
in metal, with a lamp supported on the top.
In the passage-ways, and at the head of stairways, lamps are
often fixed to the wall. In Osaka I saw a curious one, which
is represented in fig. 209. The frame was hung by hinges to a
[223] board which was affixed to the wall (the hinges being above),
and rested against the board like a cover, and was lifted up when
the lamp needed attention. In an andon in Osaka, I saw a good
bit of iron-work (fig. 210) made to suspend the lamp.
Lamps made of pottery are rarely seen. Fig. 211 is a sketch of
an old lamp of Oribe ware from the author's collection. An in-
clined portion within supports the wick, and the cover is notched
in front and behind to allow the passage of the wick. Another
form from the same collection, made in the province of Iga, is
CHAPTER IV. INTERIORS (Continued). 211

Fig. 209.—Wall-lamp.

Fig. 210.—Lamp.

shown in fig. 212. In this lamp the wick must have been made
from some fibre; a hole in the wick-tube is seen through which
the wick can be moved along. The handle of the lamp has a slot
in it, so that it may be hung against the wall. It is possible that
these two lamps, or at least the last one, are for the kami-dana,
a shelf which supports the household shrine. In connection with
lamps made of pottery, it may be well to add that now and
then one meets with a pottery candlestick. That shown in fig.
213 represents one from the author's collection, made of Owari
pottery. [224]
Near the chMdzu-bachi, hanging from the edge of the verandah
roof above, is usually seen an iron lantern, generally a quaint old
rusty affair suspended by a chain, and, when lighted, admitting
212 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 211.—Pottery lamp.

through the perforations in its side the faintest possible glim-

mer. In figs. 240 and 253 (pages 255 and 267) lanterns of this
description may be seen.

Fig. 212.—Pottery lamp.

Street-lanterns are often affixed to short slender posts at the

gateway or doorway of a dwelling. The usual form of this frame
and lantern is represented fig. 214. It is not over five feet in
height, and seems to be a frail affair to expose on a public street.
The very frailty and lightness of such objects, however, often
exposed as they are with entire safety on busy thoroughfares, are
striking indications of the gentle manners of the Japanese. One is
led to wonder how long such a delicate street-lamp would remain
intact in our streets, with those mobs thronging by that seem to
be solely a product of our civilization. These, and a thousand
similar points of contrast, set a thoughtful man reflecting on the
manners and customs of the two great civilizations.
CHAPTER IV. INTERIORS (Continued). 213

Fig. 213.—Pottery candlestick.

Fig. 214.—Fixed street-lantern.

In nearly every house one sees perched up on a shelf called

the kami-dana a curious little architectural affair, which on more
special examination proves to be a model of a Shin-tM shrine, or
a principal feature of a Shin-tM altar,—a circular mirror. On the [225]
shelf in front of this are a few lamps (or a single lamp) and trays,
containing at times food-offerings. If the shrine is in the shape
of a box, then accompanying it are various little brass stands,
slips of wood with characters written upon them, and in short a
miniature representation, apparently, of the paraphernalia used in
a large temple. The shelf is high up on the wall near the ceiling;
 214 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

and in old houses this region is black with the accumulations

of smoke from the little lamp which is lighted every night, and
which may have burned there for a century. These are the Shin-tM
shrines.
The Buddhist household shrines, having a figure of Buddha or
of one of his disciples, or perhaps of some other god, are much
more ornate, and rest on the floor,—at least so I was informed.
My informant also told me that the majority of the people wor-
ship at the shrines of both great beliefs, and that all Buddhists,
unless very strict, have ShintM shrines in their houses. Indeed,
Buddhists and even Buddhist priests have been known to go into
the Roman Catholic cathedral at Osaka, and bow in reverence
before the altar and other emblems of an alien religion. The
tolerance and charity evinced in such acts is something pathetic,
when one recalls the mutually hostile attitude of the two great
branches of the Christian Church!
Flowers and incense-burning usually accompany the Buddhist
household shrine, while before Shin-tM shrines incense is not
burned. Buddhist shrines have placed before them lamps of
brass, or hanging lamps, while in front of the Shin-tM shrine
[226] candles of vegetable wax are burned. In unglazed, hand-made
pottery called kawarake oil is burned, which is also used for
food-offerings. For offerings of wine, oval bottles of peculiar
shape, with long narrow necks, are used; these are called miki-
dokkuri,—miki being the name of the wine offered to the gods,
and tokkuri the name of a sake bottle. In front of these shrines
one may often see the inmates of the house bow their heads, clap
their hands, and then, rubbing the palms together in an imploring
gesture, pray with much earnestness. So far as I have observed,
every house has this domestic altar. In shops, too, one often sees
the shrine; and in the larger and more wealthy shops the shrine is
often a very expensive affair. In a famous silk-shop in Tokio is
a large model of a Shin-tM temple suspended by iron rods from
the beams above. In front of it hang two big metal lanterns.
CHAPTER IV. INTERIORS (Continued). 215

It struck me that this display of piety was rather ostentatious,

and paralleled similar displays sometimes seen at home; in this
supposition, however, I may be doing an injustice. Among the
intelligent classes the household shrine seems to be provided for
the female members of the family only, the men having outgrown
these superstitions; and it was interesting to observe that in Japan,
as elsewhere, the women—being as a rule less informed—made
up the majority of those attending public worship.

Fig. 215.—Household shrine.

The sketch here given of a Buddhist household shrine (fig.

215) was seen in a house of the most squalid character. The
various vessels were filled with boiled rice, with loaves of mochi
made of a special kind of rice, and a number of unripe peaches.
On the lower shelf, in the right-hand corner, are seen a sweet [227]
potato and a radish propped up on four legs, looking like toy
deer or beasts of some kind. Whether this indicated the work
of children or represented the horses upon which the gods could
take a ride, was not ascertained.
A household shrine to which the children pay voluntary and
natural devotion are the birds' nests built within the house. It is
a common thing, not only in the country but in large cities like
Tokio, for a species of swallow, hardly to be distinguished from
the European species, to build its nest in the house,—not in an
out-of-the-way place, but in the room where the family may be
most actively engaged, or in the shop fronting the street, with all
its busy traffic going on. The very common occurrence of these
 216 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

birds' nests in houses is another of the many evidences of the

gentle ways of this people, and of the kindness shown by them
to animals.

Fig. 216.—Swallows' nests in private house.

When a bird builds its nest in the house, a little shelf is

promptly secured beneath it, so that the mats below shall not
be soiled. The presence of the bird in the house is regarded as
a good omen, and the children take great pleasure in watching
the construction of the nest and the final rearing of the young
birds. I noticed that many of the nests built within the house
were much more elaborately made than those built in more ex-
posed positions. From the symmetrical way in which many of
these were constructed, one might almost imagine the birds had
[228] become imbued with some of the art instincts of the people. Fig.
216 illustrates the appearance of a group of these birds' nests in
a house.

Fig. 217.—Interior of privy.

CHAPTER IV. INTERIORS (Continued). 217

It would be an affectation of false delicacy were no allusion to

be made to the privy, which in the Japanese house often receives
a share of the artistic workman's attention. From its position in
the house, and especially in the public house, it is often a source
of great discomfort. In the better class of private houses in Japan,
however, there are less annoyance and infinitely less danger from
this source than are experienced in many houses of the wealthy
in our great cities. In the country the privy is usually a little
box-like affair removed from the house, the entrance closed half
way up by a swinging door. In the city house of the better class it
is at one corner of the house, usually at the end of the verandah,
and sometimes there are two at diagonal corners, as a reference
to the plans will show. A curious superstition among many is
attached to the position of the privy in its relation to the house,—a
trace possibly of the Chinese Fung-shui. The privy generally has
two compartments,—the first one having a wooden or porcelain
urinal; the latter form being called asagaowa, as it is supposed,
to resemble the flower of the morning glory,—the word literally
meaning “morning face” (fig. 219). The wooden ones are often
filled with branches of spruce, which are frequently replenished.
The inner compartment has a rectangular opening cut in the [229]
floor, and in the better class of privies this is provided with a
cover having a long wooden handle. The wood-work about this [230]
opening is sometimes lacquered. Straw sandals or wooden clogs
are often provided to be worn in this place.
The interior of these apartments is usually simple, though:
sometimes presenting marvels of cabinet-work. Much skill and
taste are often displayed in the approaches and exterior finish of
of these places.
Fig. 217 shows the interior of a common form of privy. Fig.
218 illustrates the appearance of one in an inn at Hachi-ishi, near
Nikko. The planking in the front of the sketch shows the veran-
dah; from this, at right angles, runs a narrow platform, having for
its border the natural trunk of a tree; the corner of a little cupboard
 218 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 218.—Privy of inn in Hachi-ishi village, Nikko.

is seen at the left; the ceiling is composed of matting made of

thin strips of wood, and below is a dado of bamboo. The opening
to the first apartment is framed by a twisted grape-vine, while
other sticks in their natural condition make up the frame-work.
Beyond the arched opening is another one closed by a swinging
door; and this is usually the only place in the house where one
finds a hinged door, except, perhaps, on the tall closet under the
kitchen stairs. The roof is covered thickly with the diminutive
shingles already alluded to. Outside a little screen fence is built,
[231] a few plants neatly trained below,—and a typical privy of the
better class is shown. The wooden trough standing on four legs
and holding a bucket of water and a washbasin is evidently an
addition for the convenience of foreign guests. The chMdzu-bachi
CHAPTER IV. INTERIORS (Continued). 219

with towel rack suspended above, as already described, is the

universal accompaniment of this place.

Fig. 219.—Privy connected with a merchant's house in Asakusa.

As one studies this sketch, made at an inn in a country village,

let him in all justice recall similar conveniences in many of the
country villages of Christendom!
In Fig. 219 is shown the privy of a merchant in Asakusa,
Tokio. The door was a beautiful example of cabinet-work, with
designs inlaid with wood of different colors. The interior of this
place (fig. 220) was also beautifully finished and scrupulously
clean.
The receptacle in the privy consists of a half of an oil barrel,
or a large earthen vessel, sunk in the ground, with convenient
access to it from the outside. This is emptied every few days by
men who have their regular routes; and as an illustration of the
value of this material for agricultural purposes, I was told that in [232]
Hiroshima in the renting of the poorer tenement houses, if three
persons occupied a room together the sewage paid the rent of
one, and if five occupied the same room no rent was charged!
Indeed, the immense value and importance of this material is so
220 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 220.—Interior of a privy in Asakusa.

great to the Japanese farmer, who depends entirely upon it for the
enrichment of his soil, that in the country personal conveniences
for travellers are always arranged by the side of the road, in shape
of buckets or half-barrels sunk in the ground.
Judging by our standards of modesty in regard to these matters
there would appear to be no evidence of delicacy among the
Japanese respecting them; or, to be more just, perhaps should
say that there is among them no affectation of false modesty,—a
feeling which seems to have developed among the English-speak-
ing people more exclusively, and among some of them to such
ridiculous heights of absurdity as often to be fraught with grave
consequences. But among the Japanese it would seem as if the
publicity given by them to the collecting of this important fertil-
izer had dulled all sensitiveness on their part, if it ever existed,
concerning this matter.19 Indeed, privacy in this matter would
be impossible when it is considered that in cities—as in Tokio,
for example—of nearly a million of inhabitants this material is
19
In this connection it may be interesting to mention the various names applied
to the privy by the Japanese, with a free translation of the same as given me by
Mr. A. S. Mihara: Setsu-in, “snow-hide;” Chodsu-ba,“place to wash hands”
(the chMdzu-bachi, a convenience for washing the hands, being always near the
privy); Benjo and Yo-ba,“place for business;” Ko-ka,“ back-frame.” Habakari
is a very common name for this place; the word Yen-riyo, though not applied
to this place, has the same meaning, it implies reserve.
These words with their meanings certainly indicate a great degree of
refinement an delicacy in the terms applied to the privy.
CHAPTER IV. INTERIORS (Continued). 221

carried off daily to the farms outside, the vessels in which it

is conveyed being long cylindrical buckets borne by men and
horses. If sensitive persons are offended by these conditions,
they must admit that the secret of sewage disposal has been [233]
effectually solved by the Japanese for centuries, so that nothing
goes to waste. And of equal importance, too, is it that of that class
of diseases which scourge our communities as a result of our
ineffectual efforts in disposing of sewage, the Japanese happily
know but little. In that country there are no deep vaults with long
accumulations contaminating the ground, or underground pipes
conducting sewage to shallow bays and inlets, there to fester and
vitiate the air and spread sickness and death.
On the other hand it must be admitted that their water supply
is very seriously affected by this sewage being washed into
rivers and wells from the rice-fields where it is deposited; and
the scourge of cholera, which almost yearly spreads its deso-
lating shadow over many of their southern towns, is due to the
almost universal cultivation of the land by irrigation methods;
and the consequent distribution of sewage through these surface
avenues renders it impossible to protect the water supply from
contamination.

[234]
CHAPTER V. ENTRANCES AND
APPROACHES.
The study of the house-architecture of Japan, as compared with
that of America, it is curious to observe the relative degree of
importance given to similar features by the two peoples. With us
the commonest house in the city or country will have a definite
front-door, and almost always one with some embellishments, in
the shape of heavy panels, ornate brackets and braces supporting
some sort of a covering above, and steps approaching it equally
pretentious; in the ordinary Japanese house, on the contrary, this
entrance is, as we shall see, often, though not always, of the
most indefinite character. With us, again, the hall or front-entry
stairs may be seen immediately on entering the house,—and this
portion has some display in the baluster and gracefully curving
rail, and in the better class of houses receives special attention
from the architect; in Japan, however, if the house be of two
stories the stairway is never in sight, and is rarely more than a
stout and precipitous step-ladder. On the other hand, the ridge
of the roof, which in Japan almost invariably forms the most
picturesque feature of the house exterior, is with us nothing more
than the line of junction of the plainest rain-shed; though in great
edifices feeble attempts have been made to decorate this lofty
and conspicuous line by an inverted cast-iron design, which is
not only absolutely useless as a structural feature, but, so far
as the design is concerned, might be equally appropriate for the [235]
edge of a tawdry valentine or the ornamental fringe which comes
in a Malaga raisin-box.
Accustomed as we are, then, to a front-door with steps and
rail and a certain pretentious architectural display, it is difficult
 224 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

to conceive of a house without some such distinctive characters

to its portal. In the ordinary Japanese house, however, we often
look in vain for such indications. In the common class of their
houses, and even in those of more importance, the entrance is
often vaguely defined; one may enter the house by way of the
garden and make his salutations on the verandah, or he may pass
into the house by an ill-defined boundary near the kitchen,—a
sort of back-door on the front side. In other houses this entrance
is by means of a small matted area, which differs in no respect
from the other rooms save that the outer edge of its raised floor
is some distance within the eaves, and between this and the sill
the floor is mother earth. One or two steps, consisting of single
planks running the width of the room, lead from the earth to the
floor. The roof at this point may be a gable, as more special-
ly marking the entrance. These indefinite entrances, however,
belong only to the houses of what may be called the middle
and lower classes, though even in houses of the middle classes
well-marked entrances, and even entrances of some pretensions,
are not uncommon. Some may be inclined to doubt the state-
ment that in the ordinary houses the entrance is often more or
less vaguely defined. As a curious proof of this, however, I
have in my possession Japanese architects' plans of two houses,
consisting of a number of rooms, and representing dwellings far
above the ordinary type; and though I have consulted a number
of Japanese friends in regard to these plans, none of them have
been able to tell me where the main entrance is, or ought to be!
In a better class of houses the entrance is in the form of a wide
[236] projecting porch, with special gable roof, having elaborately
carved wood-work about its front, the opening being as wide as
the porch itself. The floor consists of wide planks running at
right angles with the sill, which is grooved to accommodate the
amado, or storm-doors. From this floor one reaches the floor
beyond by means of one or two steps,—the edge of the floor
near the steps being grooved to accommodate the shMji. The back
CHAPTER V. ENTRANCES AND APPROACHES. 225

partition of this hall is a permanent one. On either side sliding

screens lead to the rooms within. A dado of wood runs about
the sides of the vestibule, while the wall above is plastered. A
low screen, called a tsui-tate, is usually the sole ornament of
the hall; and in olden times there hung on the wall behind the
tsui-tate curious long-handled weapons, which now are seen only
as museum specimens. This screen has no folds; the frame is [237]
thick and lacquered, and the transverse feet are ponderous and
also lacquered.

Fig. 221.—Main entrance to house.

In some houses the floor of the hall, as well as that of the

vestibule, is composed of plank; and the polish of the steps and
floor is of such exquisite ivory smoothness that the decorated
screen and fusuma are reflected as from a shaded and quiet ex-
panse of water. Even here no special display is made beyond the
porch-like projection and gable roof of the external boundaries
of this entrance. [238]
It would seem as if the fitting architecture of this important
portal had been transferred to the gateway,—ponderous hinged-
doors, bolts, bars, and all; for in the gateways a conspicuous,
though oftentimes fictitious, solidity is shown in the canopy of
beams and tiles, supported by equally massive posts.
 226 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 222.—Plan of vestibule and hall.

In fig. 221 is shown a view of the entrance to the house figured

on pages 54 and 55. It is the house of a samurai, and is a fair
example of the entrance to the house of a gentleman in ordinary
circumstances. On the left of the entrance is a plastered partition
[239] separating the hall from the kitchen. On the right is a small room
separated from the vestibule by shMji, not fusuma. This may be
considered a waiting-room, where parties on business are shown;
a servant usually waits here to attend callers. Directly beyond,
one enters a suite of rooms which border the garden at the back
of the house. At the immediate entrance is a sill; over this sill
one steps upon the earth floor.
The sill is grooved to accommodate the amado, which are put
in place when the house is closed for the night. When a house
has a definite entrance like this, there are usually conveniences
for stowing away travelling gear,—such as umbrellas, lanterns,
and wooden clogs. For example, in ordinary houses, for the sake
of economy in space, a portion of the raised floor of the vestibule
consists of movable planks, which may be lifted up, revealing a
space beneath sufficiently ample to accommodate these articles.
The plan here given (fig. 222) shows a hall often seen in
CHAPTER V. ENTRANCES AND APPROACHES. 227

the better class of houses. The area between the entrance and
the shMji projects as a porch from the side of the house, the
three-matted area coming within the house proper. The lettering
on the plan clearly explains the various parts.
In a narrow hall in an old house near Uyeno, in Tokio, I got
the accompanying sketch of a shoe-closet (fig. 223). The briefest
examination of the various clogs it contained revealed the same
idiosyncrasies of walking as with us,—some were down at the
heel, others were worn at the sides. There were clogs of many
sizes and kinds,—common clogs of the school-children, with the
dried mud of the street still clinging to them, and the best clogs
with lacquered sides and finely-matted soles. At one side hung a
set of shoe-cords ready for emergency.

Fig. 223.—Shoe-closet.

In another house, just within the vestibule, I noticed a shelf-

rack above the fusuma, designed for holding the family lanterns
(fig. 224). It may as well be stated here,—a fact which is
probably well known to most of our readers,—that the Japanese [240]
almost invariably carry lighted lanterns when they walk out at
night. Upon the outside of these lanterns is painted the crest, or
mon, of the family, or the name of the house: a man with an
 228 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

eye to business may advertise it on his lantern by some quaint

design. So persistent is this habit of carrying lanterns, that on
bright moonlight nights the lantern is brought into requisition;
and nothing strikes a foreigner as so ludicrous as the sight of
a number of firemen on the top of a burning building, holding
lighted lanterns in their hands! The lanterns fold up into a small
compass; and on the lantern-shelf which we have shown were a
[241] number of thick pasteboard boxes in which were stowed away
the lanterns. On each box was painted a design corresponding
to the design of the lantern within. In this case the name of the
family, or the crest, was indicated.

Fig. 224.—Lantern-shelf in hall.

In this vestibule the fusuma, instead of being covered with

thick paper, consisted of panels of dark cedar. The effect was
very rich.
In the houses of the Daimios the entrance is always grand-
ly marked by a special roof, and by a massive structure of
carved beams supporting it,—brilliantly colored oftentimes, and
the surroundings in keeping with the dignity of this important
region.
CHAPTER V. ENTRANCES AND APPROACHES. 229

Fig. 225.—Grated entrance, with sliding door.

The doorways of shops and inns, when they definitely occur,

are large square openings stoutly but neatly barred,—and per-
manently too, a portion of it being made to roll back. The sill
of such an opening is some little distance from the ground, and
one on entering steps over this sill to an earth floor within, called
the do-ma. Here the wooden clogs are left as he steps upon the
raised floor. Fig. 225 illustrates the appearance of this doorway.
The verandah is an essential part of the Japanese house. The
word itself is of Oriental origin, and it is difficult to imagine an
Oriental house of any pretensions without a verandah of some
kind. In the Japanese house it is almost a continuation of the floor
of the room, being but slightly below its level. The verandah is
something more than a luxury; it is a necessity arising from the
peculiar construction of the house. The shMji, with their delicate [242]
frames and white paper-coverings, which take the place of our
glass windows in admitting light to the room, are from their very
nature easily injured by the rain; the edge of the room; therefore,
where these run, must come a few feet within the eaves; of the
roof, or of any additional rain-shed which may be built above the
shMji. At this line, therefore, the matted floor ceases, and a plank
floor of varying width continues beyond, upon the outer edge of
which is a single groove to accommodate another set of screens
 230 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

made of wood. These are called the amado, literally “rain-door,”

and at night and during driving storms they are closed. At times,
however, the rain may beat in between the amado; but though
wetting the verandah, it rarely reaches the shMji.
In ordinary houses the verandah has no outer rail, though in
the houses of the nobility a rail is often present. The width of the
verandah varies in proportion to the size of the house. In some
of the temples the verandah floor may be ten feet or more in
width, and thickly lacquered, as in some of the Nikko temples.
In common houses this area may be three or four feet in width. A
reference to the plans (figs. 97 and 98; pages 113, 116), and also
to the vertical section (fig. 103; page 126), will give a clear idea
of this platform and its relation to the house. There are various
ways of treating this feature; it is always supported on wooden
posts, rough or hewn, which, like the uprights of the house, rest
on single stones partly buried in the ground. The space between
the edge of the verandah and the ground is almost invariably
left open, as will be seen by reference to figs. 37, 48, 49, 50,
and 95 (pages 55, 66, 68, 70, 106), though in Kioto houses it is
sometimes filled up by simple boarding or panelling; and here
and there are one or more panels which run back and forth in
grooves, so that one can go beneath the house if necessary. The
[243] planks composing the floor of the verandah may be narrow or
wide; usually however they are quite narrow, and run parallel
with the edge of the verandah, though in some cages they are
wide planks running at right angles. When this platform turns a
corner, the ends of the planks may be mitred (as in fig. 226, A),
or square (as in fig. 226, B), in which latter case the ends project
beyond each other alternately. Sometimes the floor is made up
of narrow strips of thick plank with the edges deeply chamfered
or rounded (fig. 226, C). In this style a considerable space is left
between the planks. The effect of this treatment is looked upon
as rustic and picturesque, but is certainly not so pleasant to walk
upon. In such a form of verandah the amado runs in a groove in
CHAPTER V. ENTRANCES AND APPROACHES. 231

close proximity to the shMji.

Fig. 226.—Verandah floor.

The verandah varies considerably in its height from the ground;

more often it is so low that one sitting on its edge may rest his
feet comfortably on the ground. In this case a single wide block,
either of stone or wood, forms the step. When the verandah is at
a greater height from the ground, permanent or adjustable steps,
two or three in number, are placed in position. A common form
of verandah-step is shown in fig. 179 (page 199). A very good
type of verandah sketched from an old house in Kioto is shown
in fig. 227. The manner in which the uprights support the broad
over-hanging eaves, the appearance of the supplementary roof
called hisashi, the shMji as they are seen, some closed and some
open, disclosing the rooms within, and other details which will [244]
presently be described, are shown in this figure.
Rooms in the second story also open upon a balcony, the plat-
form of which is generally much narrower than the one below.
This balcony has of necessity a rail or balustrade; and here much
good artistic work is displayed in design and finish, with simple
and economical devices, apparent as in so many other features
of the house. This structure, with a firm hand-rail above, has the
interspaces between the posts which support it filled with many
 232 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 227.—Verandah of an old Kioto house.

quaint and curious devices, either of lattice, bamboo, or panels

with perforated designs. Generally a narrow bar runs from post
to post close to the platform, so that any object dropped may
not roll out; between the end posts of the rail this piece is often
removable, to allow dust and dirt to be more easily swept away.
[245] (In fig. 228 the piece marked A is removable).
Fig. 229 represents a panel from a balustrade in Matsushima.
In this the design of bamboo was cut through, producing a very
light and pretty effect. Fig. 230 shows another panel from a
balustrade in Fujisawa; a perforated design of dragons in various
attitudes ornamented each panel, which was held in place by a
frame composed of round sticks of the red pine.

Fig. 228.—Balcony rail.

CHAPTER V. ENTRANCES AND APPROACHES. 233

It seems surprising that our architects do not oftener employ

this method of perforation in their ornamental work,—the designs
can be so clearly and sharply cut, while the dark shade of the
room or space beyond gives a depth of color to the design, which
is at the same time permanent. With the Japanese this method of
ornamentation is a favorite one both for outside and inside finish,
and they have shown great ingenuity and originality in the infinite
variety of designs for this mode of treatment. Nothing seems too
difficult for them to attempt,—flying birds, swimming fishes,
dashing waves and the rising sun, flowers and butterflies; indeed,
the whole range of pictorial design has offered no difficulties to
them. In their process of figuring cloths and crape, stencil-plates
of thick paper are employed, and in the printing of wall-paper
the same methods are resorted to.

Fig. 229.—Balcony rail and perforated panels.

In a balcony rail (fig. 231) a most delicate device was made

using for a middle rail a small bamboo, directly beneath which [246]
was another rail composed of a longitudinal section of the middle
of a large bamboo; such a section included the transverse parti-
tions of the bamboo as well. This process is often resorted to in
the construction of the frame-work of delicate shMji, but it is rare
to see it used in a balustrade. The effect is exceedingly refined
and delicate; and one realizes that in a country where such fragile
tracery is incorporated in such an exposed structure, there must
be an absence of the rough, boisterous children with whom we
are familiar, and who in a short time would be as disastrous to a
Japanese house as a violent earthquake and typhoon combined.
One further realizes that in that country men must keep their feet
where they properly belong.
 234 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 230.—Balcony rail.

The balustrade is often made very solid and substantial, as

may be seen in fig. 232, sketched from the house of a celebrated
potter in Kioto. The posts had metal tops, and at intervals along
the upper rail metal plates were fixed.

Fig. 231.—Balcony rail.

Transient guests are often received on the verandah; which

[247] place the hibachi, tabako-bon, and tea and cake are brought. In
summer evenings it is much cooler here than on the matted floor
within, and with the garden in view forms a pleasant place for
recreation. Flower-pots are sometimes placed along its edge;
children play upon it; and in a long suite of rooms it forms
a convenient thoroughfare from one apartment to another. It
is often the only means of reaching a room at one end of the
house, unless by passing through other rooms, as in many cases
there are no interior passage-ways, or corridors, as with us. It is
needless to say that the verandah is kept scrupulously clean, and
its wooden floor is often polished.20
20
The ordinary form of verandah is called yen, or yen-gawa. In Kishiu it
is called simply yen, while in Tokio it is called yen-gawa. A low platform
is called an ochi-yen; a platform that can be raised or lowered is called an
age-yen. When the platform has no groove for the rain-doors on the outer edge,
CHAPTER V. ENTRANCES AND APPROACHES. 235

Fig. 232.—Balcony rail.

The amado, or rain-doors, by which the verandah is closed

at night and during stormy weather, are in the form of light
wooden screens about the size of the shMji. These are made of [248]
thin boards held together by a light frame-work having a few
transverse bars. The amado run in a single groove on the outer
edge of the verandah; at night the house is effectually closed
by these shutters, and during hot summer nights the apartments
become almost stifling. In many houses, however, provision is
made for ventilation in the shape of long, narrow opening just
above the amado. Panels are made to fit into these openings,
so that in winter the cold to some extent may be kept out. On
unusually stormy days and during the prevalence a typhoon, the
house closed in this way is dark and gloomy enough.
These shutters are the noisy features of a Japanese house.
Within are no slamming doors or rattling latches; one admires
the quiet and noiseless way in which the fusuma are gently
pushed back and forth; and the soft mats yielding to the pressure
of still softer feet, as the inmates like cats step lightly about, are
soothing conditions to overstrained nerves and one cannot help
contrasting them with the clatter of heavy boots on our wood
floors, or the clouds of filthy dust kicked out of our carpets in any

it is called a nuri-yen,—nuri meaning wet, the rain in this case beating in and
wetting the verandah. A little platform made of bamboo, which may be used
as a shelf for plants, is called sunoko.
236 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

rough play of children. All these miseries are happily avoided

in a Japanese house. Truth compels me to say, however, that in
the morning you are roughly awakened by the servants pushing
back into their appropriate recesses these outer wooden screens;
and this act is usually noisy enough. In public houses this per-
formance takes the place of clanging bell or tympanum-bursting
gong (a Chinese instrument of torture which our people seem to
take peculiar delight in); for not only the rattling bang of these
resonant shutters, but the bright glare of daylight where before
you had been immersed in darkness, assails you with a sudden
and painful shock.

Fig. 233.—Rain-door lock unbolted.

Fig. 234.—Rain-door lock bolted.

CHAPTER V. ENTRANCES AND APPROACHES. 237

The Japanese have a number of curious devices by which lock

or bolt these shutters. So far as I know, the only night lock the
house possesses is attached to them. So feeble are these devices
that they would hardly withstand the attack of a toothpick in the
hands of a sneak-thief. To a Japanese our houses must appear
like veritable prisons with locks, bolts, and automatic catches
at every opening,—the front door with such mysterious devices
that it is quite as impregnable from within as from without.
What a land of thieves he must think himself in when he finds
door-mats, door-scrapers, fountain-dippers, thermometers, etc.,
chained, screwed, or bolted to the house! The simplest device for
locking a sliding door, or amado, is by means of a ring fastened
to the post by the side of which the amado comes. In the frame
of the amado is a little loop of iron; the ring is pushed over
the loop, and a wooden pin holds it in place. Another form of
lock consists of an upright bolt of wood that passes through the
upper frame of the amado as well as through a transverse bar
just below. This bolt being pushed up is held in place by another
piece of wood, which slides along in such a way as to prevent the
bolt from dropping back. A reference, however, to the sketches [250]
(figs. 233, 234) will better explain the working of this ingenious
device. Sometimes a simple wooden pin is used to hold the last
amado in place. All these various devices are on the last amado;
as when this is locked, all the others are secured.
In old houses round-headed iron knobs (fig 235) will be no-
ticed on the outer edge of the groove in which the amado run.
These are placed at intervals corresponding to the number of
amado, and are to prevent the amado from being lifted out of the
groove from the outside and thus removed. This device is rarely
seen nowadays.
In the second story the to-bukuro may be on a side of the
house which runs at right angles with the balcony. As the amado
are pushed along one after the other, it is necessary to turn them
around the corner of the balcony, outside the corner post. To
 238 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 235.—Knob for rain-door.

prevent them from slipping off the corner as they turn the post, a
little iron roller is secured to the corner of the balcony; the amado
is pushed by it part way, and then swung around into the other
groove. A reference to the sketch (fig. 236) shows the position
of this roller, and two forms of it. It will be noticed that there is
no groove at this point, so that the amado may be turned without
lifting them.
In the amado which close the entrance to the house, the end
[251] one contains a little square door called a kuguri-do; this may
slide back and forth, or may swing upon hinges. It is used as an
entrance after the house is closed for the night. It is also called
an earthquake-door, as through it the inmates may easily and
quickly find egress, at times of sudden emergency, without the
necessity of removing the amado.

Fig. 236.—Corner-roller for rain-door.

CHAPTER V. ENTRANCES AND APPROACHES. 239

Not only the verandah but the entrance to the house, as well
as the windows when they occur, are closed at night by amado.
In the daytime these shutters are stowed away in closets called
to-bukuro. These closets are placed at one side of the opening
or place to be closed, and just outside the groove in which the
shutters are to run. They have only the width of one shutter, but
are deep enough to accommodate the number that is required to
close any one entrance. By reference to the plans (figs. 97 and
98; pages 113, 116) the position of these closets may be seen;
and in the views of the houses already given, notably in figs. 35,
38, 49 and 50 (pages 53, 56, 68, and 70), they may be seen at the
ends of the verandahs, balconies, entrances, and windows.
In an ordinary house the to-bukuro is made of thin boards, and
has the appearance of a shallow box secured to the side of the
house. In large inns the front of the to-bukuro is often composed
of a single richly-grained plank. The closet has a notch on the [252]
side, so that the hand may grasp the edge of each amado in turn,
as it is drawn toward the groove in which runs. A servant will
stand at the to-bukuro and rapidly remove the amado one after
the other, pushing them along the groove like a train of cars.
The to-bukuro is almost always a fixture on the side of the
house; sometimes, however, it has to come on the verandah in
such a position that if it were permanent it would obstruct the
light. In such a case it is arranged on pivots, so that after the
amado are stowed away for the day, it may be swung at right
angles away from the verandah, and against the side of some
porch or addition. This form of swinging to-bukuro is presented
in the above sketch (fig. 237).
A curious evidence of the cleanly habits of the Japanese is
seen in the chMdzu-bachi, a receptacle for water at the end of
the verandah near the latrine. This convenience is solely for
the purpose of washing the hands. This receptacle, if of bronze
or pottery, rests on a stand or post of some kind, which rises
from the ground near the edge of the verandah. Its importance is
 240 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 237.—Verandah showing swinging closet for rain-doors,

and also ChMdzu-bachi.

shown by the ornamental features often displayed in its structure

and surroundings. In its simplest form it consists of a wooden
bucket suspended by a bamboo which hangs from the eaves of
[253] the verandah roof above. To this bamboo hangs the dipper also
(fig. 238). A towel-rack usually hangs near by. A more common
form of chMdzu-bachi consists of a vessel of bronze, pottery, or
porcelain, supported by a post fixed firmly in the ground, around
the base of which is strewn a number of beach-worn pebbles,
intermingled with larger stones; so that in washing the hands
(which is always done by dipping the water from the vessel and
pouring it on the hands) the water spilled finds its way through
the pebbles, and thus an unsightly puddle of water is avoided. In
simple forms of chMdzu-bachi, such as the one shown in fig. 49
(page 68), the pebbles are enclosed in a frame of tiles fixed in
the ground edgewise, this frame being sometimes triangular and
sometimes circular in form.
For a support to these vessels the quaintest devices come into
play: it may be the trunk of a tree, from one side of which a
branch springs, covered with leaves and blossoms; or it may be
the end of a carved post from some old building, as shown in fig.
237. A favorite support consists of a rudder-post from some old
shipwreck, as shown in fig. 239, at a gentleman's house in the
suburbs of Tokio. Usually the vessel is of bronze; and one often
CHAPTER V. ENTRANCES AND APPROACHES. 241

Fig. 238.—ChMdzu-bachi.

notices rare old forms used for this purpose, covered with a rich
patina. Oftentimes water is conducted by a bamboo pipe, to fall
in a continuous stream among the pebbles.
Many forms of chMdzu-bachi are in the shape of ponderous
thick blocks of stone, with a depression on the top to hold the
water. Of the stone forms there is an infinite variety: it may
be a rough-hewn stone, or a square post, or an arch of stone,
with a depression for water at the crown of the arch; indeed, the
oddest conceits are shown in the designs for this purpose. The
usual form, however, is cylindrical (fig. 240); the stone may be [254]
wrought in the shape of an urn (fig. 241). Whatever the form,
however, they are generally monoliths.

Fig. 239.—ChMdzu-bachi.
 242 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Usually the stone chMdzu-bachi has a little wooden frame-work

with roof resting on the top, to keep dead leaves from falling
into the water. Large irregular-shaped stones, having depressions
in them for water, may be seen near the entrance of the little
buildings used for the ceremonial tea-parties; in this case the
stone rests directly upon the ground. While in most cases the
chMdzu-bachi is but slightly removed from the edge of the veran-
dah, so that one may easily reach it with the dipper which always
rests upon the top of the vessel, in more elaborate surroundings
a little platform called hisashi-yen is built out from the edge
of the verandah. This platform has a floor of bamboo rods, or
circular or hexagonal bars of wood. A hand-rail often borders
this platform, and a quaint old iron lantern usually hangs from
above, to light the chMdzu-bachi at night. Fig. 240 represents the
appearance of this platform with the chMdzu-bachi, at the house
of a celebrated Kiyomidzu potter in Kioto; and in the illustration
of an old verandah at Kioto; (fig. 227, page 244) is shown a
Japanese in the act of washing his hands.
Taste and ingenuity are shown here, as elsewhere, in mak-
ing this corner refined and artistic. Rare woods and expensive
rock-work enter into its composition; beautiful flowers, climb-
ing vines, and dwarf-pines are clustered about it; and books
are specially prepared to illustrate the many ways in which this
[255] convenience may be dealt with.
The general neatness and cleanliness of the people are well
shown by the almost universal presence of the chMdzu-bachi, not
only in the houses and inns, but in the public offices in the busiest
parts of the city,—the railway station, to which hundreds throng,
being no exception.
While little or no attempt at architectural display is made on
that side of the house that comes next the street, the gateway,
on the contrary, receives a good deal of attention, and many of
these entrances are quite remarkable for their design and struc-
ture. These, like the fences, vary greatly as to their lightness
CHAPTER V. ENTRANCES AND APPROACHES. 243

Fig. 240.—ChMdzu-bachi.

or solidity. The gateways bordering the street are often of the

most solid description,—well barred within, having a roof above
them, and when painted black, as they often are, looking grim
enough. Whether solid or light, however, the gateways are usu-
ally picturesque. Rustic effects are frequently seen, even in the
gateways of the city houses; though often frail in appearance, it is
rare to see one in ruins, or even in a dilapidated condition. Many
of them are made of light thin material, though the upright posts
are stout timbers well braced behind by supplementary posts, [256]
with strong cross-beams above. Often quaint old ship-planks
or rugged and twisted branches form frame-work for the most
delicate panelling of braided strips or perforated designs, with
flattened strips of dark bamboo forming the centre ribs of a
series of panels. All these contrasts of strong and frail, rough
and delicate in design, material, and execution, are the surprises
which give such a charm to Japanese work of this nature.
There are many different types of gateways. In the city, one
type is seen in the long row of buildings which form part of a
yashiki inclosure; these are solid and ponderous structures. A
gateway of a similar kind is seen in the thick high walls of tile,
mud, and plaster which surround a yashiki. Another type is
seen, in which the gateway is flanked on either side by tall, light,
wooden or close bamboo fences; and still another, which is found [257]
in the garden fences, and is often of the lightest description.
Of the first kind forming the entrance to the yashiki, the
 244 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 241.—ChMdzu-bachi and Hisashi-yen.

building of which have not been considered in this work, a rough

sketch is given in fig. 242. This is a gateway belonging to a small
yashiki not far from Kudan in Tokio, which opens into a long
low building solid and heavy in construction. The larger gateway
has on either side a narrow opening for ordinary passage. A
heavily-barred and protected window on one side is provided for
the gatekeeper, from which he can see any one that passes in or
out; the narrow though deep moat in front is bridged by stone.
The gateway, though solid, appears far more solid than it is;
the gates are apparently studded with heavy round-headed bolts,
which as we have seen are often of pretentious solidity, being
made of the thinnest sheet-metal and lightly attached. The broad
metal straps, sockets, and bindings of the various beams are of
the same sheet-copper. Gateways of this nature are often painted
black or bright red, and in the olden times were wonderfully
decorated with color and metal work.
Of another group are the ordinary gateways of the better class
[258] of city houses. Fig. 243 is a typical one of this description. The
sketch shows the appearance of the gateway from within, and
illustrates the way in which the upright posts are strengthened by
additional posts and braces. The double gates are held together,
CHAPTER V. ENTRANCES AND APPROACHES. 245

Fig. 242.—Gateway in yashiki building.

by a strong wooden bar, after the manner of similar gateways at

home. In gateways of this description there is usually a small
sliding door, its lower edge a foot from the ground, just high
enough for a person to crawl through in a stooping attitude. For
an alien resident to get in or out of this opening without tripping,
or knocking off his hat, requires considerable skill and practice.
When this little grated door is slid back it is sometimes arranged
to jangle a bell, or to rattle a number of pieces of iron hung
by a string, as a warning to the servant within. Sometimes this
supplementary opening has a swinging instead of a sliding door;
in this case a curious rattle is arranged by tying a number of
short segments of bamboo to a piece of board which is hung to
the gate: these rattle quite loudly whenever the gate is moved.
Fig. 244 illustrates the appearance of this primitive yet ingenious
gate-knocker. [259]
A number of curious ways are devised to lock the little sliding
door in the gateway, one of which is here figured (fig. 245.)
To the left of the drawing a portion of the door is shown. A
piece hanging from a panel in the gate is held against the edge
of the door by a sliding bolt, which, when pushed back, drops
into place, allowing the door to slide by. It is, however, difficult
to make this clear by description; a reference to fig. 245 will
246 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 243.—Gateway of city house from within.

illustrate it. Not only do the larger gates have these smaller
openings, but in the street-entrance of shops and inns the door
which closes the entrance has a little door either hinged or on
rollers. This is called the earthquake door, as through this in
times of sudden danger the inmates escape, the larger doors or
rain-shutters being liable to get bound or jammed in the swaying
of the building.

Fig. 244.—Gate-rattle.

Fig. 245.—Bolt for little sliding door in gateway.

CHAPTER V. ENTRANCES AND APPROACHES. 247

The gateway shown in fig. 246 was sketched on the road

which borders the Shinobadzu pond in Uyeno Park, Tokio. It
represents a simple form of gateway in the high wooden fence
which encloses the house and garden from the street. The double
gates consist of single thin planks; above, a decoration is cut
out of the narrow panel; a light coping held in place by two
brackets crowns the whole, and a simple yet attractive gateway is [260]
accomplished. In this figure the durable way in which a fence is
constructed is well shown. The stout wooden sills supported by
flat stones, which in turn rest on the stone wall, may here be seen;
and the interspace showing between the lower edge of the boards
and the sill is a common feature of fence-structure. A barred
opening in the fence next the gate permits one to communicate
with the inmates from without.

Fig. 246.—Gateway to city residence.

A more elaborate gateway on the same street is shown in fig.

247. In this gateway one of the panels slides in a groove behind
the other panel, which is fixed. These panels are filled with a
braiding of thin strips of cedar. Above these low panels is a stout
net-work of wood. The round gate-posts are held together above
by a round beam as well as by a wide and thin plank, in which is
cut in perforated pattern a graceful design. The roof of the gate is
made of wide thin boards, supported by transverse pieces passing
through the upright posts and keyed into place. The door-plate,
 248 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

consisting of a thin board upon which the name of the occupant

is painted, is nailed to the post.
Fig. 248 represents a gateway on the road leading from Shiba
to Shinagawa, near Tokio. It was remarkable for the beauty of
its proportions and the purity of its design. The two upright posts
[261] consisted of the natural trunks of trees stripped of their bark,
showing the prominences left by the removal of their branches.
The transverse piece crowning the whole had been specially
selected to give an upward curve to its ends, such as one sees
in the upper transverse beam of a tori-i.21 It had been cut on
three of its faces, one answering to its lower face, and the other
two to bring it in line with the gate; and these surfaces gave a
picturesque effect by intersecting the irregularities of the trunk,
producing a waved and irregular section. Directly below this
beam was a black worm-eaten plank from some old shipwreck,
and immediately below this was another transverse tie in the
shape of a huge green bamboo. The gate itself was composed
of light narrow strips placed half an inch apart, between which
could be seen four transverse bars within. A small square area in
one corner was framed in for the little supplementary entrance.
The gate was flanked on each side by wings composed of boards,
and capped with a heavy wooden rail; and these wings joined the
neatest of bamboo fences, which rested on a stone foundation,
which in turn formed the inner wall of the street gutter. Heavy
[262] slabs of dressed stone made a bridge across the gutter, and in
front of the gateway was an irregular-shaped flag-stone, showing
untouched its natural cleavage from the ledge; on each side and
about this slab the ground was paved with round beach-worn
cobble-stones. This gateway was exceedingly attractive; and
there is no reason why just such an entrance, with perhaps the
exception of the bamboo, might not be adopted for many of our
own summer residences.

21
A gate-like structure seen in front of all shrines and temples.
CHAPTER V. ENTRANCES AND APPROACHES. 249

Fig. 247.—Gateway to city residence.

Another gateway not so pretty, but showing one of the many

grotesque ideas of the Japanese, is shown in fig. 249. Here the
upper transverse beam is a huge and crooked log of wood,—an
old log which had been dragged from the forest just as it fell in
ruins from some tree. This peculiar way of arching a gateway
with a tortuous stick is quite commonly seen. [263]
Fig. 250 represents a typical form of gateway often observed
in the suburbs of Tokio and farther south. Its roof is quite large
and complex, yet not heavy. The gate has a wide over-hang-
ing roof of bark; the ridge consists of large bamboos placed
longitudinally in two sets, each set being kept apart from each
other as well as from the roof by thick saddles of bark resting
across the ridge, the whole mass tied together and to the roof [264]
by a black-fibred root, the ends of these cords being twisted
above into an ornamental plume. Smaller bamboos are placed at
intervals nearly to the eaves of the roof. The rafters below were
of different sizes and shapes in section, being round and square.
The sketch will more fully explain the structure.
Figs. 251 and 252 are rustic gateways in one of the large
Imperial gardens in Tokio. In one, two rough logs form the posts,
the fence being composed of large bamboos in sets of three,
alternating on either side of the rails to which they are tied. This
250 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 248.—Gateway near Tokio.

was a portal simply. The other had smooth round gateposts with
a light wooden gate with braided panel, and the fence of each
side was composed of rush. These gateways and fences were
introduced as pleasing effects in the garden.
In the village of Miyajima the deer come down from the woods
and wander through the streets. To prevent them from entering
the houses and gardens, the passages are guarded by the lightest
of latticed gates, against which hangs a weight suspended from
above by a cord or long bamboo. The weight answers a double
purpose by keeping the gate closed, and also when opened by a
caller, by banging loudly against it, thus attracting the attention
of a servant.
Large folding gates are often fastened by a transverse bar not
unlike the way in which gates are fastened in our country. For
CHAPTER V. ENTRANCES AND APPROACHES. 251

Fig. 249.—Gateway.

light-folding gates an iron ring fastened to one gate by a staple [265]

is arranged to slip over a knob or nail on the other gate. In the
yashiki, one often sees gates that show evidences of disuse, and
learns that in former times such gates were only used on rare
occasions by special guests of great importance.
There is an infinite variety of forms of garden gates; many
of them consisting of the lightest wicker-work, and made solely
for picturesque effects. Others, though for the same purpose,
are more substantial. Fig. 253 represents a quaint garden gate
leading into another garden beyond. Frail and unsubstantial as
this gate appeared, it was nearly forty years old. The house to
the right beyond the gate is for the tea-ceremonies, and the huge
fish seen hanging up at the left is made of wood, and gives out a
resonant sound when struck; it is the bell, in fact, to call the party
from the guest-room to the tearoom beyond at the proper time.
 252 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 250.—Rustic gateway.

The owner of this place is a teacher and master of the Cha-no-yu,

[266] and a famous expert in old writings.

Fig. 251.—Rustic gateway.

The variety in design and structure of fences seems almost

inexhaustible. Many of them are solid and durable structures,
others of the lightest possible description,—some made with
solid frame and heavy stakes, and others of wisps of rush and
sticks of bamboo; and between these is an infinite variety of
intermediate forms. A great diversity of material enters into the
structure of these fences,—heavy timbers, light boards, sticks
of red-pine, bamboo, reed, twigs, and fagots. Bundles of rush,
and indeed almost every kind of plant that can be bound into
bundles or sustain its own weight are brought into requisition in
the composition of these boundary partitions.
CHAPTER V. ENTRANCES AND APPROACHES. 253

Fig. 252.—Rustic garden gate.

The fences have special names, either derived from their form
or the substances from which they are made; thus, a little or-
namental fence that juts out from the side of a house or wall is
called a sode-gaki,—sode meaning “sleeve,” and kaki “fence,”
the form of the fence having a fanciful resemblance to the curious
long sleeve of a Japanese dress. A fence made out of bamboo is [267]
called a ma-gaki; while a fence made out of the perfumed wood
from which the toothpicks are made is called a kuro-moji-gaki,
and so on.
There are many different groups of Japanese fences. Under
one group may be mentioned all those enclosing the ground upon
which the house stands. In the city these are often quite tall,
usually built of boards, and supported on solid frames resting on
a foundation of stone. In the country such fences are hardly more
than trellises of bamboo, and these of the lightest description.
Many of the fences are strictly ornamental, consisting either of
light trellises bounding certain areas, or forming little screens
jutting from the side of the house, or from the side of more
durable fences or walls. Of these the designs are endless. [268]
Let us examine more in detail some of the principal Japanese
types of fences. A simple board-fence consists, as with us, of
an upper and lower cross-tie, to which the boards are nailed. A
useful modification of the ordinary board-fence consists in hav-
254 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 253.—Garden gateway.

ing the upper and lower rails of thick board, three or four inches
wide, and nailed sideways to the fence-posts. The fence-boards
are nailed to these rails alternately on one side and on the other.
A pretty effect is produced by the interrupted appearance of the
rails, and a useful purpose also is subserved by lessening the
pressure of the wind which so often blows with great violence,
since by securing the boards in this way interspaces occur be-
tween the boards the width of the rails. Fig. 254 illustrates a
portion of this kind of fence, with its appearance in section as
seen from above. This feature in board fences might be imitated
with advantage in our country.

Fig. 254.—Ordinary wooden fence.

CHAPTER V. ENTRANCES AND APPROACHES. 255

Fig. 255.—Stake fence.

Heavy stake fences are made by mortising each stake, which

consists of a stout square piece, and running the rail through the
mortises thus made, and then pinning each stake in position. In
many fences of this kind there are two rails near together, while
the lower ends of the stakes are secured to a foundation-piece,
or sill, which is raised an inch or two from the ground by stone
props at intervals. By this treatment the sill is preserved both
from the ravages of insects and the dampness of the ground. Fig.
255 gives the appearance of this kind of fence. Such fences are [269]
made more secure by driving into the ground additional posts
at a distance of two feet or more, and binding them together by
rails, as shown in the gateway (fig. 243, page 258).

Fig. 256.—Bamboo fence.

A very serviceable kind of fence is made of bamboo, which is

interwoven in the rails of the fence, as shown in fig. 256. The
bamboo stakes are held in place by their elasticity. It will be
observed that the post supporting this fence, and also showing
the side of a gateway, is marked in a curious fashion. This post
 256 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

is a stout stick of wood in its natural state, the bark only being
removed. The design, in a rich brown color, is in this case in the
form of diamond-shaped spaces, though spiral lines, like those
on a barber's pole, are often seen. This design is burned in, and
the wood being carbonized is consequently insoluble as well as
unchangeable in color. I was curious to know how such a design
was burned in this formal pattern, and learned that a long stout
rope, or band of straw soaked in water, was first wound around
the post in a wide spiral, in two directions, leaving diamond-
shaped interspaces. A bed of hot coals being prepared, the post
was exposed to this heat, and the wood not protected by the
wet straw-band became charred. This simple yet ingenious way
of getting plain decorations, in a rich brown and lasting color,
is one that might be utilized in a variety of ways by American
architects.
Fences built between house-lots, and consequently bordering
the gardens, are made in a variety of decorative ways. A very
strong and durable fence is shown in fig. 257, sketched in Hakone
[270] village. The posts in this case were natural trunks of trees, and
braces of the same material, fastened by stout wooden pins, were
secured to one side. The rail consisted of similar tree-trunks
partially hewn, while the fence partition consisted small bamboo
interwoven in the cross-ties.

Fig. 257.—Fence in Hakòne village.

CHAPTER V. ENTRANCES AND APPROACHES. 257

Fig. 258.—Rustic garden-fence.

Another fence of a more ornamental character (fig. 258) from

a sketch made in Tokio. In this the lower part filled with a mass
of twigs, held in place by slender cross-pieces; and the upper
panels consisted of sticks of the red-pine with a slender vine
interwoven, making a simple trellis.

Fig. 259.—Sode-gaki.

In the sode-gaki, or sleeve-fence, the greatest ingenuity in

design and fabrication is shown; their variety seems endless. I
have a Japanese work especially devoted to this kind of fence, in
which are hundreds of different designs,—square tops, curving
tops, circular or concave edges, panels cut out, and an infinite
variety shown in the minor details. This kind of fence is always
built out from the side of the house or from a more permanent
 258 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

fence or wall. It is rarely over four or five feet in length, and

is strictly ornamental, though often useful in screening some
feature of the house that is desired to be concealed.

Fig. 260.—Sode-gaki.

Fig. 259 represents a fence in which cylindrical bundles of

rush are bound together by a black-fibred root, and held together
by bamboo pieces. Little bundles of fagots are tied to each
columns as an odd feature of decoration. In fig. 260 cylindrical
bundles of rush and twigs are affixed in pairs on each side of
Fig. 259 represents a fence in which cylindrical bundles of rush
are bound together by a black-fibred root, and held together by
bamboo pieces. Little bundles of fagots are tied to each columns
as an odd feature of decoration. In fig. 260 cylindrical bundles of
rush and twigs are affixed in pairs on each side of bamboo ties,
[272] which run from the outer post to the wooden fence from which
the sode-gaki springs. In still another form (fig. 261) the upper
portion consists of a bundle of stout reeds tied by broad bands of
the black fibre so often used in such work. From this apparently
hangs a broad mass of brown rush, spreading as it reaches the
ground. Such fences might be added to our gardens, as the
materials—such as reeds, rush, twigs, etc.—are easily obtained
in this country. In the stout wooden fences it is not an uncommon
sight to see openings the size of a small window protected by a
projecting grating of wood (fig. 262).
CHAPTER V. ENTRANCES AND APPROACHES. 259

Fig. 261.—Sode-gaki.

Besides the fences, a few of which only have been figured,

there are stout, durable walls built up with tile and plaster, or
mud intermixed. These structures rest on a foundation of stone,
are two or three feet wide at their base, and rise to a height
of eight feet or more, at which altitude they may not be over
two feet in width, and are crowned with a coping of tiles like
a miniature roof-top. The interior of these walls is filled with
a rubble of clay and broken tiles, while the outside exhibits an
orderly arrangement of tiles in successive layers.

Fig. 262.—Barred opening in a fence.

The large enclosures, or yashikis, are generally surrounded by

walls of this nature.
CHAPTER VI. GARDENS.
[273]
The Japanese garden, like the house, presents features that never
enter into similar places in America. With us it is either modelled
after certain French styles, or it is simply beds of flowers in
patches or formal plats, or narrow beds bordering the paths; and
even these attempts are generally made on large areas only. The
smaller gardens seen around our ordinary dwellings are with few
exceptions a tangle of bushes, or wretched attempts to crowd as
many different kinds of flowers as possible into a given area; and
when winter comes, there is nothing left but a harvest of dead
stalks and a lot of hideously-designed trellises painted green.
It is no wonder, then, that as our people have gradually become
awakened within recent years to some idea of fitness and har-
mony of color, the conventional flower-bed has been hopelessly
abandoned, and now green grass grows over the graves of most
of these futile attempts to defy Nature. The grass substitute has at
least the merit of not being offensive to the eye, and of requiring
but little care save that of the strenuous pushing of the mechanical
grass-cutter. This substitute is, however, a confession of inability
and ignorance,—as much as if a decorator, after having struggled
in vain with his fresco designs upon some ceiling, should give
up in disgust and paint the entire surface one color. [274]
The secret in a Japanese garden is that they do not attempt too
much. That reserve and sense of propriety which characterize
this people in all their decorative and other artistic work are here
seen to perfection. Furthermore, in the midst of so much that is
evanescent they see the necessity of providing enduring points of
interest in the way of little ponds and bridges, odd-shaped stone
lanterns and inscribed rocks, summer-houses and rustic fences,
 262 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

quaint paths of stone and pebble, and always a number of ever-

green trees and shrubs. We, indeed, have feebly groped that way
with our cement vases, jigsaw pavilions green with poisonous
compound, and cast-iron fountains of such design that one no
longer wonders at the increase of insanity in our midst. One of
every hundred of the fountains that our people dote upon is in the
form of two little cast-iron children standing in a cast-iron basin,
holding over their heads a sheet-iron umbrella, from the point of
which squirts a stream of water,—a perennial shower for them
alone, while the grass and all about may be sear and yellow with
the summer's drought!
The Japanese have brought their garden arts to such perfection
that a plot of ground ten feet square is capable of being exquisitely
beautified by their methods. Plots of ground that in this country
are too often encumbered with coal-ashes, tea-grounds, tin cans,
and the garbage-barrel, in Japan are rendered charming to the eye
by the simplest means. With cleanliness, simplicity, a few little
evergreen shrubs, one or two little clusters of flowers, a rustic
fence projecting from the side of the house, a quaintly shaped
flower-pot or two, containing a few choice plants,—the simplest
form of garden is attained. So much do the Japanese admire
gardens, and garden effects, that their smallest strips of ground
are utilized for this purpose. In the crowded city, among the
poorest houses, one often sees, in the corner of a little earth-area
[275] that comes between the sill and the raised floor, a miniature
garden made in some shallow box, or even on the ground itself.
In gardens of any pretensions, a little pond or sheet of water
of irregular outline is an indispensable feature. If a brook can
be turned to run through the garden, one of the great charms is
attained; and a diminutive water-fall gives all that can be desired.
With the aid of fragments of rock and rounded boulders, the
picturesque features of a brook can be brought out; little rustic
bridges of stone and wood span it, and even the smallest pond
will have a bridge of some kind thrown across. A few small
CHAPTER VI. GARDENS. 263

hummocks and a little mountain six or eight feet high, over or

about which the path runs, are nearly always present.
In gardens of larger size these little mountains are sometimes
twenty, thirty, and even forty feet in height, and are built up from
the level ground with great labor and expense. On top of these
a little rustic lookout with thatched roof is made, from which if
a view of Fuji can be got the acme is indeed reached. In still
larger gardens,—that is, gardens measuring several hundred feet
each way,—the ponds and bridges, small hills and meandering
paths, with shrubs trimmed in round balls of various sizes, and
grotesquely-shaped pines with long tortuous branches running
near the ground, are all combined in such a way by the skilful
landscape gardener that the area seems, without exaggeration of
statement, ten times as vast.

Fig. 263.—Garden tablet.

Irregularly and grotesquely shaped stones and huge slabs of

rock form an important feature of all gardens; indeed, it is as
difficult to imagine a Japanese garden without a number of pic-
turesque and oddly-shaped stones as it is to imagine an American
garden without flowers. In Tokio, for example, there being
near the city no proper rocks of this kind for garden decoration,
rocks and stones are often transported forty or fifty miles for [276]
this purpose alone. There are stone-yards in which one may
see and purchase rocks such as one might use in building a
rough cellar-wall at home, and also sea-worn rocks of various
 264 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

shapes and colors,—among them red-colored stones, that fetch a

hundred dollars and more, brought from Sado, an island on the
northwest coast of Japan. So much do the Japanese admire stones
and rocks for garden decoration, that in their various works on
the subject of garden-making the proper arrangement of stones
is described and figured with painstaking minuteness. In the
figures to be given of Japanese gardens, reproduced from a work
entitled “Chikusan Teizoden,” written in the early part of the last
century, the arrangement of rocks in the various garden designs
will be observed.
Tablets of rock, not unlike a certain type of gravestone, and
showing the rough cleavage of the rock from the parent ledge,
are often erected in gardens. Upon the face of the rock some ap-
propriate inscription is engraved. The accompanying sketch (fig.
263) is a tablet of this sort, from a famous tea-garden at Omori,
celebrated for its plum-blossoms. The legend, freely translated,
runs as follows: “The sight of the plum-blossom causes the ink
to flow in the writing-room,”—meaning that one is inspired to
compose poetry under the influence of these surroundings. This
tablet was raised on a slight mound, with steps leading to it and
quaint pines and shrubs surrounding it. The sketch gives only a
suggestion of its appearance.

Fig. 264.—Ishi-dMrM in Tokio

[277]
The stone lanterns (ishi-dMrM) are one of the most common
yet important accompaniments of garden decoration. Indeed,
it is rare to see a garden, even of small size, without one or
more of these curious objects. They are usually wrought out of
soft volcanic rock, and ordinary ones may be bought for a few
CHAPTER VI. GARDENS. 265

dollars. They resemble stout stone-posts of various contours,

round, square, hexagonal, or octagonal; or the upper part may be
hexagonal, while the shaft supporting it may be a round pillar;
or they may be of irregular form, built of water-worn rock. The
upper portion is hollowed out, leaving various openings cut in
ornamental shape; and in this cavity a lamp or candle is placed
on special occasions. They are generally made in two or three
sections. There are at least three distinct types,—short and broad
ones with tops shaped like a mushroom, these generally standing
on three or four legs; tall, slender ones; and a third form com-
posed of a number of sections piled up to a considerable height,
looking like a pagoda, which, for all I know, they may be made
to imitate.

Fig. 265.—Ishi-dMrM in Miyajima

Fig. 266.—Ishi-dMrM in Shirako, Musashi.

266 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

These stone lanterns are called ishi-dMrM. A legend states that

in ancient times there was a pond on a certain mountain, in
the vicinity of which robbers repeatedly came out and attacked
travellers. In consequence of this, a god called Iruhiko caused to [278]
be built stone lanterns to illuminate the roads, stone being a more
enduring material. In a temple built by Prince Shotoko, in the
second year of Suiko (594 A.D.) the first ishi-dMrM is said to have
been erected, and the legend states that it was removed from the
region above named to this temple.22

Fig. 267.—Ishi-dMrM in Utsunomiya.

A few sketches are here given illustrating some of the forms

of ishi-dMrM observed. The one shown in fig. 265 was sketched
on the temple grounds of Miyajima, on the inland sea. I was
informed by the priest there that this stone lantern was over
seven hundred years old. Its base was buried, and the whole
affair showed evidences of great age in the worn appearance
of its various parts. Figs. 264 and 266 represent forms from
Tokio and Shirako, and fig. 267 an elaborately wrought one from
Utsunomiya.
22
This legend is from a work entitled “Chikusan Teizoden.”
CHAPTER VI. GARDENS. 267

Fig. 268.—Stone foot-bridge.

The little bridges of stone and wood are extremely good exam-
ples of rustic-work, and might be copied with advantage in our
country. The ingenious device of displacing the stones laterally
(fig. 268), or of combining the bridge with stepping-stones, as
seen in some of them, is decidedly unique. [279]
Fig. 269 illustrates a stone bridge in one of the large gardens
of Tokio. The span of this bridge was ten or twelve feet, and
yet the bridge itself was composed of a single slab of stone.
Fig. 270 shows a little brook in a private garden in Tokio.
Here the foot-bridge consists of an unwrought slab of rock. The
ishi-dMrM showing in the same sketch consists of a number of
naturally-worn stones, except the lantern portion, which has been
cut out.

Fig. 269.—Stone foot-bridge.

Fig. 270.—Garden brook and foot-bridge.

 268 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

The summer-houses are simple and picturesque; sometimes

they have a seat and a do-ma, or earth floor; others will have a
board or a matted floor. These houses are generally open, the
square thatched roof being supported on four corner-posts; others
[280] again will have two sides closed by permanent partitions, in one
of which an ornamental opening or window occurs. We cannot
understand what so intelligent an observer as Rein means when
he makes the statement that the Japanese garden contains no
summer-house,—for it is rare to see a garden of any magnitude
without one, and impossible to refer to any Japanese book on the
subject in which these little rustic shelters and resting-places are
not figured.
The training of vines and trees about the summer-house win-
dow is often delightfully conceived. We recall the circular
window of one that presented a most beautiful appearance. Three
sides of the summer-house were closed by permanent plaster
partitions, tinted a rich brown color, with a very broad-eaved
thatched roof throwing its dark shade on the matted floor. In the
partition opposite the open side was a perfectly circular window
five feet in diameter. There was no frame or moulding to this
opening, simply the plastering finished squarely at the border;
dark-brown bamboos of various thicknesses, secured across this
opening horizontally, formed the frame-work; running vertically,
and secured to the bamboo, was a close grating of brown rush.
Over and around this window—it being on the sunny side—there
had been carefully trained outside a vine with rich green leaves,
so that the window was more or less shaded by it. The effect
of the sunlight falling upon the vine was exquisite beyond de-
scription. When two or three leaves interposed between the sun's
rays, the color was a rich dark green; where here and there,
over the whole mass, a single leaf only interrupted the light,
there were bright green flashes, like emerald gems; at points the
dazzling sunlight glinted like sparks. In a few places the vine
and leaves had been coaxed through the grating of rushes, and
CHAPTER VI. GARDENS. 269

these were consequently in deep shadow. I did not attempt to

sketch it, as no drawing could possibly convey an idea of the
exceeding richness and charm of the effect, with the cool and
shaded room within, the dark-brown lattice of bamboo and rush, [281]
the capacious round opening, and, above all, the effect of the
various rich greens,—which was greatly heightened as the wind
tremulously shifted the leafy screens without, and thus changed
the arrangement of the emerald colors within.
My attention was first attracted to it by noticing a number of
Japanese peering at it through an open fence, and admiring in
rapt delight this charming conception. Such a room and window
might easily be arranged in our gardens, as we have a number of
vines with light, translucent leaves capable of being utilized in
this way.

Fig. 271.—Summer-house in private garden, Tokio.

Fig. 271 gives a view of a summer-house in a private garden

in Tokio. Four rough posts and a few cross-ties formed the
frame; it had a raised floor, the edge of which formed a seat,
and two plastered partitions at right angles, in one of which was
cut a circular window, and in the other a long, narrow opening
above; and crowning the whole was a heavily-thatched roof, its
peak capped by an inverted earthen basin. Whether the basin
was made expressly for this purpose or not, its warm red color
 270 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

added a pleasing effect to the gray of the thatch. In front and

about it stones and rocks were arranged in pleasing disorder,
while a number of exotic flowers and quaintly trimmed shrubs
added their charms, and a little brook found its way across the
[282] path leading to it.
Fig. 272 is the sketch of a summer-house in one of the imperial
gardens in Tokio. The frame, as in the one last figured, consisted
of round sticks with the bark retained; this was capped with a
thatched roof, surmounted by a ridge of thatch and bamboo. A
very pretty feature was shown in the trellises, which sprung diag-
onally from each post,—the frame of these trellises consisting of
tree-branches selected for their irregular forms. The lattice was
made of bamboo and rush, and each trellis had a different design.
The seat within was of porcelain; and about the slight mound on
which the summer-house stood were curiously-trimmed shrubs
and dwarfed pines.
The openings or windows in these summer-houses are often
remarkable for their curious designs. The following sketches
(figs. 273, 274) give a faint idea of the appearance of these rustic
openings,—one representing a gourd, its frame being made of
grape-vine; the other suggesting a mountain, the lattice being
made of bamboo.

Fig. 272.—Summer-house in imperial garden, Tokio.

CHAPTER VI. GARDENS. 271

For border hedges, trees of large size are often trained to form
a second barrier above the squarely-trimmed shrubs that come
next the path. A jinko-tree is trained so that it spreads like a fan,
in one direction, to a width of thirty feet or more, while it may
not be over two feet in thickness. An infinite amount of patient
work is required in tying all the big branches and little twigs to
bamboo supports in order to bring trees into such strange forms.

Fig. 273.—Rustic opening in summer-house, Kobe.

[283]

Fig. 274.—Rustic opening in summer-house, Okazaki.

In the garden of Fukiage, in Tokio, some very marvellous

effects of landscape-gardening are seen. At a distance you notice
high ground, a hill in fact, perhaps fifty or sixty feet in height;
approaching it from a plain of rich green grass you cross a little
lake, bridged at one point by a single slab of rock; then up a
ravine, down which a veritable mountain brook is tumbling, and
through a rock foundation so natural, that, until a series of faults
and dislocations, synclinals and anticlinals, in rapid succession
arouse your geological memories with a rude shock, you cannot
believe that all this colossal mass of material has been transported
here by man, from distances to be measured by leagues; and that
a few hundred years ago a low plain existed where now are rocky
 272 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

ravines and dark dells, with heavy forest trees throwing their
cool shadows over all. You wend your way by a picturesque
forest-path to the summit of the hill, which is crowned by a rustic
summer-house with wide verandah, from which a beautiful view
of Fuji is got. Looking back towards the park, you expect to
see the ravine below, but, to your amazement, an absolutely flat
plain of shrubbery, resembling a closely-cropped tea plantation,
level to the top of the hill and extending to a considerable dis-
[284] tance, greets your eye. Have you lost the points of the compass?
Walking out in the direction of this level growth of shrubbery,
a new surprise awaits you; for peering through the bushes, you
look down the slopes of the steep hill you had ascended. The
forest-trees which thickly cover the slopes of the hill had been
trimmed above to an absolute level; and this treatment had gone
on for so many years that the tops formed a dense mass having
the appearance, from the summer-house, of a continuous stretch
of low shrubs springing from a level ground.
I have spoken of the love the Japanese have for gardens and
garden effects, the smallest areas of ground being utilized for
this purpose. As an illustration of this, I recall an experience
in a cheap inn, where I was forced to take a meal or go hungry
till late at night. The immediate surroundings indicated pover-
ty, the house itself being poorly furnished, the mats hard and
uneven, and the attendants very cheaply dressed. In the room
where our meal was served there was a circular window, through
which could be seen a curious stone lantern and a pine-tree, the
branches of which stretched across the opening, while beyond a
fine view of some high mountains was to be had. From where
we sat on the mats there were all the evidences of a fine garden
outside; and wondering how so poor a house could sustain so
fine a garden, I went to the window to investigate. What was
my surprise to find that the extent of ground from which the
lantern and pine-tree sprung was just three feet in width! Then
came a low board-fence, and beyond this stretched the rice-fields
CHAPTER VI. GARDENS. 273

of a neighboring farmer. At home such a narrow strip of land

would in all likelihood have been the receptacle for broken glass
and tin cans, and a thoroughfare for erratic cats; here, however,
everything was clean and neat,—and this narrow plot of ground,
good for no other purpose, had been utilized solely for the benefit
of the room within. [285]
Reference has been made to the ponds and brooks as desirable
features in garden-making. Where water is not obtainable for the
purpose, or possibly for the ingenuity of the idea, the Japanese
sometimes make a deceptive pond, which is absolutely destitute
of water; so perfectly, however, are the various features of the
pond carried out, that the effect of water is produced by the illu-
sion of association. The pond is laid out in an irregular outline,
around the border of which plant-pots buried out of sight contain
the iris and a number of plants which naturally abound near wet
shores. The bottom of the pond is lined with little gray pebbles,
and a rustic bridge leads to a little island in the centre. The
appearance of this dry pond from the verandah is most deceptive.

Fig. 275.—Various forms of garden paths.

 274 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

The real ponds contain either lotus or other aquatic plants, or

they may be given up to turtles or gold-fish, and are oftentimes
very elaborately laid out with rustic, wooden, or stone bridges.
Little promontories with stone lanterns standing at their ends
like miniature light-houses, rustic arbors or seats, trellises above
supporting a luxuriant growth of wistaria, and tortuous pines
with long branches reaching out over the water, are a few of
the many features which add so much to that peculiar charm so
[286] characteristic of Japanese gardens.
The pathways of stone are of many kinds. Sometimes the slabs
of stone may be finished squarely, and then each may be arranged
in line across the path, or adjusted in such a way from one side
to the other that a zigzag path is made; in other cases the path
may consist of long slabs squarely trimmed, or of large irregular
slabs interrupted with little stones, all compacted into the hard
earth. Fig. 275, copied from “Chikusan Teizoden,” shows some
of these arrangements; and an idea of the way in which the stone
paths are laid out is well illustrated in figs. 283 and 284 (pp. 291,
292), copied from the same work. The entrance from the street
is seen at the left. The stone path leads through a courtyard to
a second gate, and from thence to the genka, or entrance to the
house.

Fig. 276.—Wooden trough for plants.

Flowers, shrubs, and dwarf trees in pots and tubs are com-
monly used in the vicinity of the verandah, and also about the
garden for decorative features; and here tasteful and rustic effects
are sought for in the design and material of the larger wooden
receptacles. Fig. 276 represents a shallow trough made from a
CHAPTER VI. GARDENS. 275

fragment of an old shipwreck, blackened by age, and mounted

on a dark wood-stand. In this trough are two stones, a bronze
crab, and a few aquatic plants. Another wooden flower-pot of
large size (fig. 277) is made from the planks of an old vessel, the
wood perforated by Teredo, and the grain deeply worn out by
age. Its form permits it to be carried by two men.

Fig. 277.—Plant-pot of old plank.

Among the most extraordinary objects connected with gardens

are the dwarf plum-trees. Before the evidence of life appears [287]
in the blooming, one would certainly believe that a collection
of dwarf plum-trees were simply fragments of old blackened
and distorted branches or roots,—as if fragments of dead wood
had been selected for the purpose of grotesque display! Indeed,
nothing more hopeless for flowers or life could be imagined than
the appearance of these irregular, flattened, and even perforated
sticks and stumps. They are kept in the house on the sunny side,
and while the snow is yet on the ground, send out long, delicate
drooping twigs, which are soon strung with a wealth of the most
beautiful rosy-tinted blossoms it is possible to conceive; and,
cunously enough not a trace of a green leaf appears during all
this luxuriant blossoming.
Fig. 278 is an attempt to show the appearance of one of these
phenomenal plum-trees. It was over forty years old, and stood
about three feet high. By what horticultural sorcery life had been
kept in this blackened stump, only a Japanese gardener knows.
And such a vitality! Not a few feeble twigs and blossoms as an
 276 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

expiring effort, but a delicious growth of the most vigorous and

dainty flowers. The pines are equally remarkable in their way.
It is very curious to see a sturdy old pine-tree, masculine and
gruff in its gnarled branches and tortuous trunk, perhaps forty or
fifty years old, and yet not over two feet in height, and growing
in a flower-pot; or a thick chunk of pine standing upright in
[288] a flower-pot, and sending out vigorous branches covered with
leaves (fig. 279), and others trained in ways that seem incredible.

Fig. 278.—Dwarf plum.

Fig. 279.—Dwarf pine.

CHAPTER VI. GARDENS. 277

In a large garden in Tokio I saw one of these trees that spread

out in a symmetrical convex disk with a diameter of twenty feet
or more, yet standing not over two feet in height (fig. 280); still
another one, in which the branches had been trained to assume
the appearance of flattened disks (fig. 281). It would seem as
if the artistic and picturesque taste of the gardener followed the
shrubs even to their winter shrouds of straw; for when they are
enwrapped for the winter's cold and snow, the objects even in this
guise look quaint and attractive, besides being most thoroughly
protected, as may be seen by fig. 282 on page 290.

Fig. 280.—Curiously trained pine-tree.

[289]
In this brief sketch of Japanese gardens only the more salient
features have been touched upon, and these only in the most
general way. It would have been more proper to have included
the ornamental fences, more especially the sode-gaki, in this
chapter. It was deemed best, however, to include fences of all
kinds under one heading; and this has been done in a previous
chapter. The rustic wells, which add so much to garden effects,
might with equal propriety have been incorporated here; but for
similar reasons it was thought best to include with the wells the
few brief allusions to water supply and village aqueducts,—and [290]
these subjects are therefore brought together under one heading
in the chapter which is to follow. [291]
In this chapter on gardens, I regret the absence of general
sketches of the garden proper; but the few sketches I had made
were too imperfect to hazard an attempt at their reproduction.
Moreover, not the slightest justice could have been done to the
thoroughly original character of the Japanese garden, with all its
variety and beauty. In lieu of this, however, I have had repro-
duced a number of views of private gardens, from a Japanese
278 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 281.—Dwarfed pine.

work on the subject published in the early part of the last centu-
ry,—though, so far as their general arrangement and appearance
go, they might have been copied from gardens to be seen in that
country to-day.

Fig. 282.—Shrubs wrapped in straw for winter.

CHAPTER VI. GARDENS. 279

Fig. 283.—Showing approaches to house. (Reproduced from

“Chikusan teizoden”, a Japanese work.)

The first illustration (fig. 283) shows the relation of the various
buildings, with the approaches from the street, which is on the
left. Here are seen two gateways: the larger one with swinging
gates is closed; the smaller one with sliding gate is open. The
building with the two little windows and black foundation is the
kura. The pathway, of irregular slabs of stone, leads around
the sides of the kura to a second gateway; and beyond this
the stone path continues to the genka, or main entrance to the
dwelling. The drawing is a curious admixture of isometric and
linear perspective, with some violent displacements in point of
 280 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

[292] sight and vanishing points, in order to show fully the various
details within the limits of the plate. The other illustrations
represent respectively a little garden belonging to the priests'
house of a Buddhist temple (fig 284), a garden connected with
the house of a merchant (fig. 285; the legend says the owner is
[295] a dealer in dress materials and cottons), and a garden connected
with the residence of a Daimio (fig. 286). All of these gardens
were to be found in Sakai, Idzumi, nearly two hundred years
ago, and the more enduring features of some of them may still
be in existence. A study of these quaint drawings will enable the
reader to recognize the ornamental fences, quaint rocks, rustic
wells, ishi-dMrM,chMdzu-bachi, stone pathways, and curious trees
and shrubs so characteristic of the Japanese garden, and so utterly
unlike anything with which we are familiar in the geometrical
[293] patches we are wont to regard as gardens.
[294] It is a remarkable fact that the various trees and shrubs which
adorn a Japanese garden may be successfully transplanted again
and again without impairing their vitality. Trees of very large
size may be seen, almost daily, being dragged through the streets
on their way from one garden to another. A man may have a
vigorous and healthy garden under way in the space of a few
days,—trees forty or fifty feet high, and as many years old, sturdy
shrubs and tender plants, all possessing a vitality and endurance
under the intelligent management of a Japanese gardener, which
permits them to be transported from one end of the city to the
other. If for some reason the owner has to give up his place, every
stone and ornamental fence, and every tree and plant having its
commercial value, may all be dug up and sold and spirited away,
in a single day, to some other part of the town. And such a
vicissitude often falls to the lot of a Japanese garden, enduring
as it is. The whole affair, save the circular well-hole, may be
transported like magic from one end of the country to the other.
CHAPTER VI. GARDENS. 281

Fig. 284.—Little garden belonging to the priests of a buddhist

temple. (Reproduced from “Chikusan teizoden”, a Japanese
work.)
282 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Fig. 285.—Garden of a merchant. (Reproduced from “Chikusan

teizoden”, a Japanese work.)
CHAPTER VI. GARDENS. 283

Fig. 286.—Garden of a daimio. (Reproduced from “Chikusan

teizoden”, a Japanese work.)
CHAPTER VII.
MISCELLANEOUS MATTERS.
[296]
With the exception of a few of the larger cities, the water-supply
of Japan is by means of wooden wells sunk in the ground. In
Tokio, besides the ordinary forms of wells which are found in ev-
ery portion of the city, there is a system of aqueducts conveying
water from the Tamagawa a distance of twenty-four miles, and
from Kanda a distance of ten miles or more. It is hardly within the
province of this work to call attention to the exceeding impurity
of much of the well-water in Tokio and elsewhere in Japan,
as shown by many analyses, or to the imperfect way in which
water is conveyed from remote places to Tokio and Yokohama.
For valuable and interesting papers on this subject the reader is
referred to the Journal of the Asiatic Society of Japan.23 [297]

23
Professor Atkinson, in the Journal of the Asiatic Society, vol. vi. part i.; Dr.
Geerts, ibid., vol. vii. part iii.
Dr. O. Korschelt has made an extremely valuable contribution to the Asiatic
Society of Japan, on the water-supply of Tokio. Aided by Japanese students, he
has made many analyses of well-waters and waters from the city supply, and
shows that, contrary to the conclusions of Professor Atkinson, the high-ground
wells are on the whole much purer than those on lower ground. Dr. Korschelt
also calls attention to the great number of artesian wells sunk in Tokio, by
means of bamboo tubes driven into the ground. The ordinary form of well
is carried down thirty or forty feet in the usual way, and then at the bottom
bamboo tubes are driven to great depths, ranging from one hundred to two
hundred feet and more. He speaks of a number of these wells in Tokio and
the suburbs as overflowing. There is one well not far from the Tokio Daigaku
which overflows; and a very remarkable sight it is to see the water pouring
over a high well-curb and flooding the ground in the vicinity. He shows that
pure water may be reached in most parts of Tokio by means of artesian wells;
and to this source the city must ultimately look for its water-supply.
For further particulars concerning this subject, the reader is referred to Dr.
 286 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

The aqueducts in the city are made of wood, either in the shape
of heavy square plank tubes or circular wooden pipes. These
various conductors are intersected by open wells, in which the
water finds its natural level, only partially filling them. These
wells are to be found in the main streets as well as in certain open
areas; and to them the people come, not only to get their water,
but often to do light washing.
The time must soon come when the authorities of Tokio will
find it absolutely necessary to establish water-works for the sup-
ply of the city. Such a change from the present system would
require an enormous expenditure at the outset, but in the end the
community will be greatly benefited, not only in having more
efficient means to quell the awful conflagrations which so fre-
quently devastate their thoroughfares, but also in having a more
healthful water-supply for family use. In their present imperfect
method of water-service it is impossible to keep the supply free
from local contamination; and though the death-rate of the city is
[298] low compared with that of many European and American cities,
it would certainly be still further reduced by pure water made
available to all.

Fig. 287.—Ancient form of well-curb.

Korschelt's valuable paper in the Transactions of the Asiatic Society of Japan,

vol. xii. part iii., p. 143.
CHAPTER VII. MISCELLANEOUS MATTERS. 287

In many country villages, where the natural conditions exist,

a mountain brook is conducted by a rock-bound canal through
the centre of the village street; and thus the water for culinary
and other purposes is brought directly to the door of every house
on that street.
The wells are made in the shape of barrels of stout staves five
or six feet in height. These taper slightly at their lower ends, and
are fitted one within another; and as the well is dug; deeper the
sections are adjusted and driven down. Wells of great depth are
often sunk in this way. The well made in this manner has the
appearance, as it projects above the ground, of an ordinary barrel
or hogshead partially buried.
Stone curbs of a circular form are often seen. An ancient form
of well-curb is a square frame, made of thick timber in the shape
shown in fig. 287. The Chinese character for “well” is in the
shape of this frame; and as one rides through the city or village
he will often notice this character painted on the side of a house
or over a door-way, indicating that in the rear, or within the
house, a well is to be found. A picturesque well-curb of stone,
made after this form, is shown in fig. 288, from a private garden
in Tokio.

Fig. 288.—Stone well-curb in private garden.

While the water is usually brought up by means of a bucket

attached to the end of a long bamboo, there are various forms
of frames erected over the well to support a pulley, in which
runs a rope with a bucket attached to each end. Fig. 289 is an [299]
illustration of one of these frames. Sometimes the trunk of a tree
288 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

is made to do service, as shown in fig 290. In this case the old

trunk was densely covered with a rich growth of Japanese ivy.
In the country kitchen the well is often within the house, as
shown in the sketch fig. 167 (page 186). In the country, as well as
in the city, the regular New England well-sweep is now and then
seen. In the southern part of Japan particularly the well-sweep is
very common; one is shown in the picture of a southern house
(fig. 54, page 73).

Fig. 289.—Wooden well-frame.

Fig. 290.—Rustic well-frame.

CHAPTER VII. MISCELLANEOUS MATTERS. 289

There are many ways of conveying water to villages by bam-

boo pipes. In Kioto many places are supplied by water brought in
this way from the mountain brooks back of the city. At Miyajima,
on the Inland Sea, water is brought, by means of bamboo pipes,
from a mountain stream at the western end of the village. The
water is first conveyed to a single shallow tank, supported on a
rough pedestal of rock. The tank is perforated at intervals along
its sides and on its end, and by means of bamboo gutters the
water is conveyed to bamboo tubes standing vertically,—each
bamboo having at its top a box or bucket, in which is a grating
of bamboo to screen the water from the leaves and twigs. These
bamboo tubes are connected with a system of bamboo tubes
under-ground, and these lead to the houses in the village street
below. Fig. 291 is an illustration of this structure. It was an
old and leaky affair, but formed a picturesque mass beside the
mountain road, covered as it was by a rich growth of ferns and
mosses, and brightened by the water dripping from all points.

Fig. 291.—Aqueduct reservoir at Miyajima, Aki.

Just beyond this curious reservoir I saw a group of small

aqueducts, evidently for the supply of single houses. Fig. 292
illustrates one of a number of these seen along the road. Fig. 293
represents one of the old wells still seen in the Kaga Yashiki, in
Tokio,—an inclosure of large extent formerly occupied by the
 290 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Daimio of Kaga, but now overgrown with bamboo grass and tan-
gled bushes, while here and there evidences of its former beauty
[301] are seen in neglected groves of trees and in picturesque ponds
choked with plant growth. The buildings of the Tokio Medical
College and Hospital occupy one portion of the ground; and the
new brick building of the Tokio University, a few dwellings for
its foreign teachers, and a small observatory form another group.

Fig. 292.—Aqueducts at Miyajima, Aki.

Scattered over this large inclosure are a number of treacher-

ous holes guarded only by fences painted black. These are the
remains of wells; and by their number one gets a faint idea of
the dense commununity that filled this area in the days of the
Shogunate. During the Revolution the houses were burned, and
with them the wooden curbs of the wells, and for many years
these deep holes formed dreadful pitfalls in the long grass.

Fig. 293.—Well at Kaga Yashiki, Tokio.

CHAPTER VII. MISCELLANEOUS MATTERS. 291

The effect of rusticity which the Japanese so much admire, and

which they show in their gateways, fences, and other surround-
ings, is charmingly carried out in the wells; and the presence of
a well in a garden is looked upon as adding greatly to its beauty.
Hence, one sees quaint and picturesque curbs, either of stone and
green with plant growth, or of wood and fairly dropping to pieces [302]
with decay. One sees literally a moss-covered bucket and well,
too; but, alas! the water is not the cold, pure fluid which a New
Englander is accustomed to draw from similar places at home,
but often a water far from wholesome, and which to make so is
generally boiled before drinking. We refer now to the city wells;
and yet the country wells are quite as liable to contamination.
Having described in the previous pages the permanent features
of the house and its surroundings, a few pages may be properly
added concerning those objects which are hung upon the walls
as adornments. A few objects of household use have been men-
tioned, such as pillows, hibachi, tabako-bon, candlesticks, and
towel-racks, as naturally associated with mats, kitchen, bathing
conveniences, etc. Any further consideration of these movable
objects would lead us into a discussion of the bureaus, chests,
baskets, trays, dishes, and the whole range of domestic articles
of use, and might, indeed, furnish material enough for another
volume.
A few pages, however, must be added on the adornments of
the room, and the principles which govern the Japanese in these
matters. As flowers form the most universal decoration of the
rooms from the highest to the lowest classes, these will be first
considered.
The love of flowers is a national trait of the Japanese. It would
be safe to say that in no other part of the world is the love of flow-
ers so universally shown as in Japan. For pictorial illustration
flowers form one of the most common themes; and for decorative
art in all its branches flowers, in natural or conventional shapes,
are selected as the leading motive. In their light fabrics,—em-
 292 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

broidery, pottery, lacquers, wall-papers, fans,—and even in their

metal work and bronzes, these charming and perishable objects
[303] are constantly depicted and wrought. In their social life, also,
these things are always present. From birth to death, flowers are
in some way associated with the daily life of the Japanese; and
for many years after their death their graves continue to receive
fresh floral tributes.
A room in the very humblest of houses will have in its place
of honor—the tokonoma— a flower-vase, or a section of bamboo
hanging from its side, or some form of receptacle suspended
from the open portion of the room above, or in front of some
ornamental opening in which flowers are displayed. On the street
one often meets the flower vendor; and at night, flower fairs are
one of the most common attractions.
The arrangement of flowers forms a part of the polite education
of the Japanese, and special rules and methods for their appro-
priate display have their schools and teachers. Within the house
there are special places where it is proper to display flowers. In
the tokonoma, as we have said, is generally a vase of bronze
or pottery in which flowers are placed,—not the heterogeneous
mass of color comprised in a jumble of flowers, as is too often
the case with us; but a few flowers of one kind, or a big branch of
cherry or plum blossoms are quite enough to satisfy the refined
tastes of these people. Here, as in other matters, the Japanese
show their sense of propriety and infinite refinement. They most
thoroughly abominate our slovenly methods, whereby a clump
of flowers of heterogeneous colors are packed and jammed to-
gether, with no room for green leaves: this we call a bouquet; and
very properly, since it resembles a ball,—a variegated worsted
ball. These people believe in the healthy contrast of rough brown
stem and green leaves, to show off by texture and color the
matchless life-tones of the delicate petals. We, however, in our
stupidity are too often accustomed to tear off the flowers that
[304] Nature has so deftly arranged on their own wood stems, and then
CHAPTER VII. MISCELLANEOUS MATTERS. 293

with thread and bristling wire to fabricate a feeble resemblance

to the milliner's honest counterfeit of cloth and paper; and by
such treatment, at the end of a few hours, we have a mass equally
lifeless.
In their flower-vases, too, they show the most perfect knowl-
edge of contrasts. To any one of taste it is unnecessary to
show how inappropriate our gilt and often brilliantly colored;
flower-vases are for the objects they are to hold. By employing
such receptacles, all effects of color and pleasing contrasts are
effectually ruined. The Japanese flower-vase is often made of
the roughest and coarsest pottery, with rough patches of glaze
and irregular contour; it is made solid and heavy, with a good
bottom, and is capable of holding a big cherry branch without
up-setting. Its very roughness shows off by contrast the delicate
flowers it holds. With just such rough material as we use in the
making of drain-tiles and molasses jugs, the Japanese make the
most fascinating and appropriate flower-vases; but their potters
are artists, and, alas! ours are not.
In this connection it is interesting to note that in our country,
artists, and others having artistic tastes, have always recognized
the importance of observing proper contrasts between flowers
and their holders, and until within a very few years have been
forced, for want of better receptacles, to arrange flowers in Ger-
man pottery-mugs, Chinese ginger-jars, and the like. Though
these vessels were certainly inappropriate enough, the flowers
looked vastly prettier in them than they ever could in the frightful
wares designed expressly to hold them, made by American and
European manufacturers. What a satire on our art industries,—a
despairing resort to beer-mugs, ginger-jars and blacking-pots,
for suitable flower-vases! Who does not recall, indeed cannot
see to-day on the shelves of most “crockery shops,” a hideous
battalion of garish porcelain and iniquitous parian vases, besides
other multitudinous evidences of utter ignorance as to what a [305]
flower-vase should be, in the discordantly colored and decorated
294 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

glass receptacles designed to hold these daintiest bits of Nature's

handiwork?
Besides the flower-vase made to stand on the floor, the
Japanese have others which are made to hang from a hook,—gen-
erally from the post or partition that divides the tokonoma from
its companion recess, or sometimes from a corner-post. When a
permanent partition occurs in a room, it is quite proper to hang
the vase from the middle post. In all these cases it is hung midway
between the floor and the ceiling. These hanging flower-vases
are infinite in form and design, and are made of pottery, bronze,
bamboo, or wood. Those made of pottery and bronze may be
in the form of simple tubes; often, however, natural forms are
represented,—such as fishes, insects, sections of bamboo, and
the like.

Fig. 294.—Hanging flower-holder of bamboo.

The Japanese are fond of ancient objects, and jars which have
been dug up are often mutilated, at least for the antiquarian, by
having rings inserted in their sides so that they may be hung up
for flower-holders.
A curious form of holder is made out of a rugged knot of
wood. Any quaint and abnormal growth of wood, in which an
opening can be made big enough to accommodate a section of
bamboo to hold the water, is used for a flower-vase. Such an
object will be decorated with tiny bronze ants, a silver spider's
CHAPTER VII. MISCELLANEOUS MATTERS. 295

web with bronze spider, and pearl wrought in the shape of a

fungus. These and other singular caprices are worked into and
upon the wood as ornaments. [306]

A very favorite form of flower-holder is one made of bamboo.

The bamboo tube is worked in a variety of ways, by cutting out
various sections from the sides. Fig. 294 represents an odd,
yet common shape, arranged for cha-no-yu (tea-parties), and
sketched at one of these parties. The bamboo is an admirable
receptacle for water, and a section of it is used for this purpose
in many forms of pottery and bronze flower-holders.

Fig. 295.—Hanging flower-holder of basket-work.

296 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

[307]
Rich brown-colored baskets are also favorite receptacles for
flowers, a segment of bamboo being used to hold the water. The
accompanying figure (fig. 295) is a sketch of a hanging basket,
the flowers having been arranged by a lover of the tea-ceremonies
and old pottery. Many of these baskets are quite old, and are
highly prized by the Japanese. At the street flower-fairs cheap
and curious devices are often seen for holding flower-pots. The
annexed figure (fig. 296) illustrates a form of bracket in which
a thin irregular-shaped slab of wood has attached to it a crooked
branch of a tree, upon the free ends of which wooden blocks are
secured as shelves upon which the flower-pots are to rest. A
hole is made at the top so that it may be hung against the wall,
and little cleats are fastened crosswise to hold long strips of stiff
paper, upon which it is customary to write stanzas of poetry.
These objects are of the cheapest description, can be got for a
few pennies, and are bought by the poorest classes.

Fig. 296.—Cheap bracket for flower-pots.

For flower-holders suspended from above, a common form is

a square wooden bucket, or one made out of pottery or bronze
in imitation of this form. Bamboo cut in horizontal forms is also
used for suspended flower-holders. Indeed, there seems to be
no end of curious objects used for this purpose,—a gourd, the
CHAPTER VII. MISCELLANEOUS MATTERS. 297

semi-cylindrical tile, sea-shells, as with us, and forms made in

pottery or bronze in imitation of these objects.
Quaint and odd-shaped flower-stands are made in the form of
buckets. The following figure (fig. 297) represents one sketched [308]
at the National Exposition at Tokio in 1877. Its construction was
very ingenious; three staves of the low bucket were continued
upward to form portions of three small buckets above, and each
of these, in turn, contributed a stave to the single bucket that
crowned the whole. Another form, made by the same contributor
thought not so symmetrical, was quite as odd.

Fig. 297.—Curious combination of buckets for flowers.

Curious little braided-straw affairs are made to hold flowers,

or rather the bamboo segments in which the flowers are kept.
These are made in the form of insects, fishes, mushrooms, and
other natural objects. These are mentioned, not that they have a
special merit, but to illustrate the devices used by the common
people in decorating their homes. Racks of wood richly lacquered
are also used, from which hanging flower-holders are suspended.
These objects are rarely seen now, and I have never chanced to
see one in use.
In the chapter on Interiors various forms of vases are shown
in the tokonoma.
My interest in Japanese homes was first aroused by wishing
to know precisely what use the Japanese made of a class of
 298 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

objects with which I had been familiar in the Art Museums and
private collections at home; furthermore, a study of their houses
led me to search for those evidences of household decoration
[309] which might possibly parallel the hanging baskets, corner brack-
ets, and especially ornaments made of birch bark, fungi, moss,
shell-work, and the like, with which our humbler homes are
often garnished. It was delightful to find that the Japanese were
susceptible to the charms embodied in these bits of Nature, and
that they too used them in similar decorative ways. At the outset,
search for an object aside from the bare rooms seemed fruitless
enough. At first sight these rooms appeared absolutely barren;
in passing from one room to another one got the idea that the
house was to be let. Picture to yourself a room with no fire-place
and accompanying mantel,—that shelf of shelves for the support
of pretty objects; no windows with their convenient interspaces
for the suspension of pictures or brackets; no table, rarely even
cabinets, to hold bright-colored bindings and curious bric-a-brac;
no side-boards upon which to array the rich pottery or glistening
porcelain; no chairs, desks, or bedsteads, and consequently no
opportunity for the display of elaborate carvings or rich cloth
coverings. Indeed, one might well wonder in what way this
people displayed their pretty objects for household decorations.
After studying the Japanese home for a while, however, one
comes to realize that display as such is out of the question with
them, and to recognize that a severe Quaker-like simplicity is
really one of the great charms of a Japanese room. Absolute
cleanliness and refinement, with very few objects in sight up-
on which the eye may rest contentedly, are the main features
in household adornment which the Japanese strive after, and
which they attain with a simplicity and effectiveness that we can
never hope to reach. Our rooms seem to them like a curiosity
shop, and “stuffy” to the last degree. Such a maze of vases,
pictures, plaques, bronzes, with shelves, brackets, cabinets, and
tables loaded down with bric-a-brac, is quite enough to drive a
CHAPTER VII. MISCELLANEOUS MATTERS. 299

Japanese frantic. We parade in the most unreasoning manner

every object of this nature in our possession; and with the pe- [310]
riodical recurrence of birthday and Christmas holidays, and the
consequent influx of new things, the less pretty ones already on
parade are banished to the chambers above to make room for
the new ones; and as these in turn get crowded out they rise to
the garret, there to be providentially broken up by the children,
or to be preserved for future antiquarians to contemplate, and
to ponder over the condition of art in this age. Our walls are
hung with large fish-plates which were intended to hold food;
heavy bronzes, which in a Japanese room are made to rest solidly
on the floor, and to hold great woody branches of the plum or
cherry with their wealth of blossoms, are with us often placed on
high shelves or perched in some perilous position over the door.
The ignorant display is more rarely seen of thrusting a piece of
statuary into the window, so that the neighbor across the way
may see it; when a silhouette, cut out of stiff pasteboard, would
in this position answer all the purposes so far as the inmates
are concerned. How often we destroy an artist's best efforts by
exposing his picture against some glaring fresco or distracting
wall-paper! And still not content with the accumulated misery of
such a room, we allow the upholsterer and furnisher to provide
us with a gorgeously framed mirror, from which we may have
flashed back at us the contents of the room reversed, or, more
dreadful still, a reverberation of these horrors through opposite
reflecting surfaces,—a futile effort of Nature to sicken us of the
whole thing by endless repetition.24
That we in America are not exceptional in these matters of
questionable furnishing, one may learn by listening to an English
authority on this subject,—one who has done more than any other
writer in calling attention not only to violations of true taste in
household adornment, but who points out in a most rational way
24
The pier-glaas is happily unknown in Japan; a small disk of polished metal
represents the mirror, and is wisely kept in a box till needed!
 300 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

[311] the correct paths to follow, not only to avoid that which is of-
fensive and pretentious, but to arrive at better methods and truer
principles in matters of taste. We refer to Charles L. Eastlake and
his timely work entitled “Hints on Household Taste.” In his ani-
madversions on the commonplace taste shown in the furnishing
of English houses, he says “it pervades and vitiates the judgment
by which we are accustomed to select and approve the objects
of every-day use which we see around us. It crosses our path in
the Brussels carpet of our drawing-room; it is about our bed in
the shape of gaudy chintz; it compels us to rest on chairs, and
to sit at tables which are designed in accordance with the worst
principles of construction, and invested with shapes confessedly
unpicturesque. It sends us metal-work from Birmingham, which
is as vulgar in form as it is flimsy in execution. It decorates the
finest modern porcelain with the most objectionable character
of ornament. It lines our walls with silly representations of
vegetable life, or with a mass of uninteresting diaper. It bids us,
in short, furnish our houses after the same fashion as we dress
ourselves,—and that is with no more sense of real beauty than if
art were a dead letter.” Let us contrast our tastes in these matters
with those of the Japanese, and perhaps profit by the lesson.
In the previous chapters sufficient details have been given
for one to grasp the structural features of a Japanese room. Let
us now observe that the general tone and color of a Japanese
apartment are subdued. Its atmosphere is restful; and only after
one has sat on the mats for some time do the unostentatious
fittings of the apartment attract one's notice. The papers of the
fusuma of neutral tints; the plastered surfaces, when they occur
equally tinted in similar tones, warm browns and stone-colors
predominating; the cedar-board ceiling, with the rich color of that
wood; the wood-work everywhere modestly conspicuous, and
[312] always presenting the natural colors undefiled by the painter's
miseries,—these all combine to render the room quiet and refined
to the last degree. The floor in bright contrast is covered with
CHAPTER VII. MISCELLANEOUS MATTERS. 301

its cool straw matting,—a uniform bright surface set off by the
rectangular black borders of the mats. It is such an infinite com-
fort to find throughout the length and breadth of that Empire the
floors covered with the unobtrusive straw matting. Monotonous
some would think: yes, it has the monotony of fresh air and of
pure water. Such a room requires but little adornment in the
shape of extraneous objects; indeed, there are but few places
where such objects can be placed. But observe, that while in our
rooms one is at liberty to cover his wall with pictures without
the slightest regard to light or effect, the Japanese room has a
recess clean and free from the floor to the hooded partition that
spans it above, and this recess is placed at right angles to the
source of light; furthermor it is exalted as the place of highest
honor in the room—and here, and here alone, hangs the picture.
Not a varnished affair, to see which one has to perambulate the
apartment with head awry to get a vantage point of vision, but
a picture which may be seen in its proper light from any point
of the room. In the tokonoma there is usually but one picture
exposed,—though, as we have seen, this recess may be wide
enough to accommodate a set of two or three.

Fig. 298.—Framed picture, with supports.

Between the kamoi, or lintel, and the ceiling is a space say

of eighteen inches or more, according to the height of the room;
and here may sometimes be seen a long narrow picture, framed [313]
in a narrow wood-border, or secured to a flat frame, which is
concealed by the paper or brocade that borders the picture. This
picture tips forward at a considerable angle, and is supported
 302 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

on two iron hooks. In order that the edge of the frame may
not be scarred by the iron, it is customary to interpose triangular
red-crape cushions. A bamboo support is often substituted for the
iron hooks, as shown in the sketch (fig. 298). The picture may be
a landscape, or a spray of flowers; but more often it consists of
a few Chinese characters embodying some bit of poetry, moral
precept, or sentiment,—and usually the characters have been
written by some poet, scholar, or other distinguished man. The
square wooden post which comes in the middle of a partition
between two corners of the room may be adorned by a long,
narrow, and thin strip of cedar the width of the post, upon which
is painted a picture of some kind. This strip, instead of being
of wood, may be of silk and brocade, like a kake-mono, having
only one kaze-obi hanging in the middle from above. Cheap ones
may be of straw, rush, or thin strips of bamboo. This object, of
whatever material, is called hashira kakushi,—literally meaning
“post-hide.” If of wood, both sides are decorated; so that after
one side has done duty for awhile the other side is exposed. The
wood is usually of dark cedar evenly grained, and the sketch is
painted directly on the wood. Fig. 299 shows both sides of one
[314] of these strips.
The decoration for these objects is very skilfully treated by the
artist; and while it might bother our artists to know what subject
to select for a picture on so awkward and limited surface, it offers
no trouble to the Japanese decorator. He simply takes a vertical
slice out of some good subject, as one might get a glimpse of
Nature through a slightly open door,—and imagination is left to
supply the rest. These objects find their way to our markets, but
the bright color used in their decoration show that they have been
painted for the masses in this country. The post upon which this
kind of picture is hung, as well as the toko-bashira, may also
adorned with a hanging flower-holder such as has already been
described.
A Japanese may have a famous collection of pictures, yet
CHAPTER VII. MISCELLANEOUS MATTERS. 303

Fig. 299.—Hashira kakushi.

these are stowed away in his kura, with the exception of the one
exposed in the tokonoma. If he is a man of taste, he changes the
picture from time to time according to the season, the character
of his guests, or for special occasions. In one house where I was a
guest for a few days the picture was changed every day. A picture
may do duty for a few weeks or months, when it is carefully
rolled up, stowed away in its silk covering and box, and another
one is unrolled. In this way a picture never becomes monotonous.
The listless and indifferent way in which an American will often
regard his own pictures when showing them to a friend, indicates
that his pictures have been so long on his walls that they no
longer arouse any attention or delight. It is true, one never
wearies in contemplating the work of the great masters; but one
should remember that all pictures are not masterpieces, and that
by constant exposure the effect of a picture becomes seriously
impaired. The way in which pictures with us are crowded on the
walls,—many of them of necessity in the worst possible light,
or no light at all when the windows are muffled with heavy
curtains,—shows that the main interest centres in their embossed [315]
 304 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

gilt frames, which are conspicuous in all lights. The principle

of constant exposure is certainly wrong; a good picture is all the
more enjoyable if it is not forever staring one in the face. Who
wants to contemplate a burning tropical sunset on a full stomach,
or a drizzling northern mist on an empty one? And yet these are
the experiences which we are often compelled to endure. Why
not modify our rooms, and have a bay or recess,—an alcove
in the best possible light,—in which one or two good pictures
may be properly hung, with fitting accompaniments in the way
of a few flowers, or a bit of pottery or bronze? We have never
modified the interior arrangement of our house in the slightest
degree from the time when it was shaped in the most economical
way as a shelter in which to eat, sleep, and die,—a rectangular
kennel, with necessary holes for light, and necessary holes to get
in and out by. At the same time, its inmates were saturated with
a religion so austere and sombre that the possession of a picture
was for a long time looked upon as savoring of worldliness and
vanity, unless, indeed, the subject suggested the other world by
a vision of hexapodous angels, or of the transient resting-place
to that world in the guise of a tombstone and willows, or an
immediate departure thereto in the shape of a death-bed scene.
Among the Japanese all collections of pottery and other bric-
a-brac are, in the same way as the pictures, carefully enclosed
in brocade bags and boxes, and stowed away to be unpacked
only when appreciative friends come to the house; and then the
host enjoys them with equal delight. Aside from the heightened
enjoyment sure to be evoked by the Japanese method, one is
spared an infinite amount of chagrin and misery in having an
unsophisticated friend become enthusiastic over the wrong thing,
or mistake a rare etching of Dante for a North American savage,
[316] or manifest a thrill of delight over an object because he learns
incidentally that its value corresponds with his yearly grocery
bill.
Nothing is more striking in a Japanese room than the har-
CHAPTER VII. MISCELLANEOUS MATTERS. 305

monies and contrasts between the colors of the various objects

and the room itself. Between the picture and the brocades with
which it is mounted, and the quiet and subdued color of the
tokonoma in which it is hung, there is always the most refined
harmony, and such a background for the delicious and healthy
contrasts of color when a spray of bright cherry blossoms en-
livens the quiet tones of this honored place! The general tone
of the room sets off to perfection the simplest spray of flowers,
a quiet picture, a rough bit of pottery or an old bronze; and at
the same time a costly and magnificent piece of gold lacquer
blazes out like a gem from these simple surroundings,—and yet
the harmony is not disturbed.
It is an interesting fact that the efforts at harmonious and
decorative effects which have been made by famous artists and
decorators in this country and in England have been strongly
imbued by the Japanese spirit, and every success attained is a
confirmation of the correctness of Japanese taste. Wall-papers
are now more quiet and unobtrusive; the merit of simplicity and
reserve where it belongs, and a fitness everywhere, are becoming
more widely recognized.
It is rare to see cabinets or conveniences for the display of bric-
a-brac in a Japanese house, though sometimes a lacquer-stand
with a few shelves may be seen,—and on this may be displayed
a number of objects consisting of ancient pottery, some stone
implements, a fossil, old coins, or a few water-worn fragments
of rock brought from China, and mounted on dark wood stands.
The Japanese are great collectors of autographs, coins, brocades,
metal-work, and many other groups of objects; but these are
rarely exposed. In regard to objects in the tokonoma, I have seen
in different tokonoma, variously displayed, natural fragments of [317]
quartz, crystal spheres, curious water-worn stones, coral, old
bronze, as well as the customary vase for flowers or the in-
cense-burner. These various objects are usually, but not always,
supported on a lacquer-stand. In the chigai-dana I have also
 306 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

noticed the sword-rack, lacquer writing-box, maki-mono, and

books; and when I was guilty of the impertinence of peeking into
the cupboards, I have seen there a few boxes containing pottery,
pictures, and the like,—though, as before remarked, such things
are usually kept in the kura.

Fig. 300.—Writing-desk.

Besides the lacquer cabinets, there may be seen in the houses

of the higher class an article of furniture consisting of a few
deep shelves, with portions of the shelves closed, forming little
cupboards. Such a cabinet is used to hold writing-paper, toilet
articles, trays for flowers, and miscellaneous objects for use and
ornament. These cases are often beautifully lacquered.
The usual form of writing-desk consists of a low stool not
over a foot in height, with plain side-pieces or legs for support,
sometimes having shallow drawers; and this is about the only
piece of furniture that would parallel our table. The illustration
(fig. 300) shows one of these tables, upon which may be seen
the paper, ink-stone, brush, and brush-rest.
In the cities and large villages the people stand in constant
fear of conflagrations. Almost every month they are reminded
of the instability of the ground they rest upon by tremors and
slight shocks, which may be the precursors of destructive earth-
[318] quakes, usually accompanied by conflagrations infinitely more
disastrous. Allusion has been made to the little portable engines
with which houses are furnished. In the city house one may
notice a little platform or staging with hand-rail erected on the
ridge of the roof (fig. 301); a ladder or flight of steps leads to this
staging, and on alarms of fire anxious faces may be seen peering
CHAPTER VII. MISCELLANEOUS MATTERS. 307

from these lookouts in the direction of the burning buildings.

It is usual to have resting on the platform a huge bucket or
half barrel filled with water, and near by a long-handled brush;
and this is used to sprinkle water on places threatened by the
sparks and fire-brands, which often fill the air in times of great
conflagrations.

Fig. 301.—Staging on house-roof, with bucket and brush.

During the prevalence of a high wind it is a common sight to

see the small dealers packing their goods in large baskets and
square cloths to tie up ready to transport in case of fire. At
such times the windows and doors of the kura are closed and the
chinks plastered with mud, which is always at hand either under
a platform near the door or in a large earthen jar near the open-
ings. In private dwellings, too, at times of possible danger, the
more precious objects are packed up in a square basket-like box, [319]
having straps attached to it, so that it can easily be transported
on one's shoulders (fig. 302).

Fig. 302.—Box for transporting articles.

 308 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

In drawing to a close this description of Japanese homes and

their surroundings, I have to regret that neither time, strength, nor
opportunity enabled me to make it more complete by a descrip-
tion, accompanied by sketches, of the residences of the highest
classes in Japan. Indeed, it is a question whether any of the old
residences of the Daimios remain in the condition in which they
were twenty years ago, or before the Revolution. Even where the
buildings remain, as in the castles of Nagoya and Kumamoto,
busy clerks and secretaries are seen sitting in chairs and writing at
tables in foreign style; and though in some cases the beautifully
decorated fusuma, with the elaborately carved ramma and rich
wood-ceiling are still preserved,—as in the castle of Nagoya, as
well as in many others doubtless,—the introduction of varnished
furniture and gaudy-colored foreign carpets in some of the apart-
ments has brought sad discord into the former harmonies of the
place.
In Tokio a number of former Daimios have built houses in
foreign style, though these somehow or other usually lack the
peculiar comforts of our homes. Why a Japanese should build a
house in foreign style was somewhat of a puzzle to me, until I saw
the character of their homes and the manner in which a foreigner
in some cases was likely to behave on entering a Japanese house.
If he did not walk into it with his boots on, he was sure to be
[320] seen stalking about in his stockinged feet, bumping his head at
intervals against the kamoi, or burning holes in the mats in his
clumsy attempts to pick up coals from the hibachi, with which
to light his cigar. Not being able to sit on the mats properly, he
sprawls about in attitudes confessedly as rude as if a Japanese
in our apartments were to perch his legs on the table. If he will
not take off his boots, he possibly finds his way to the garden,
where he wanders about, indenting the paths with his boot-heels
or leaving scars on the verandah, possibly washing his hands
in the chMdzu-bachi, and generally making himself the cause of
much discomfort to the inmates.
CHAPTER VII. MISCELLANEOUS MATTERS. 309

It was a happy idea when those Japanese who from their

prominence in the affairs of the country were compelled to en-
tertain the “foreign barbarian” conceived the idea of erecting
a cage in foreign fashion to hold temporarily the menageries
which they were often compelled to receive. Seriously, however,
the inelastic character of most foreigners, and their inability to
adapt themselves to their surroundings have rendered the erec-
tion of buildings in foreign style for their entertainment not only
a convenience but an absolute necessity. It must be admitted
that for the activities of business especially, the foreign style of
office and shop is not only more convenient but unquestionably
superior.
The former Daimio of Chikuzen was one of the first, I believe,
to build a house in foreign style in Tokio, and this building is a
good typical example of an American two-story house. Attached,
however, to this house is a wing containing a number of rooms in
native style. Fig. 123 (page 142) shows one of these rooms. The
former Daimio of Hizen also lives in a foreign house, and there
are many houses in Tokio built by Japanese after foreign plans.
In an earlier portion of this work an allusion was made to the
absence of those architectural monuments which are so charac- [321]
teristic of European countries. The castles of the Daimios, which
are lofty and imposing structures, have already been referred to.
There are fortresses also of great extent and solidity,—notably
the one at Osaka, erected by Hideyoshi on an eminence near the
city; and though the wooden structures formerly surmounting the
walls were destroyed by Iyeyasm in 1615, the stone battlements
as they stand to-day must be considered as among the marvels
of engineering skill, and the colossal masses of rock seem all
the more colossal after one has become familiar with the tiny
and perishable dwellings of the country. In the walls of this
fortress are single blocks of stone—at great heights, too, above
the surrounding level of the region—measuring in some cases
from thirty to thirty-six feet in length, and at least fifteen feet in
 310 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

height. These huge blocks have been transported long distances

from the mountains many miles away from the city.
Attention is called to the existence of these remarkable mon-
uments as an evidence that the Japanese are quite competent to
erect such buildings, if the national taste had inclined them in
that way. So far as I know, a national impulse has never led
the Japanese to commemorate great deeds in the nation's life by
enduring monuments of stone. The reason may be that the plucky
little nation has always been successful in repelling invasion;
and a peculiar quality in their temperament has prevented them
from perpetuating in a public way, either by monuments or by
the naming of streets and bridges, the memories of victories won
by one section of the country over another.
Rev. W. E. Griffis, in an interesting article on “The Streets and
Street-names of Yedo,”25 in noticing the almost total absence of
the names of great victories or historic battlefields in the naming
[322] of the streets and bridges in Tokio, says: “It would have been an
unwise policy in the great unifier of Japan, Iyeyasm, to have given
to the streets in the capital of a nation finally united in peaceful
union any name that would be a constant source of humiliation,
that would keep alive bitter memories, or that would irritate
freshly-healed wounds. The anomalous absence of such names
proves at once the sagacity of Iyeyasm, and is another witness
to the oft-repeated policy used by the Japanese in treating their
enemies,—that is, conquer them by kindness and conciliation.”

25
Transactions of the Asiatic Society of Japan, vol. i. p. 20.
CHAPTER VIII. THE ANCIENT
HOUSE.
[323]
It would be an extremely interesting line of research to follow out
the history of the development of the house in Japan. The material
for such a study may possibly be in existence, but unfortunately
there are few scholars accomplished enough to read the early
Japanese records. Thanks to the labors of Mr. Chamberlain, and
to Mr. Satow, Mr. Aston, Mr. McClatchie, and other members
of the English legation in Japan,26 students of Ethnology are
enabled to catch a glimpse of the character of the early house in
that country.
From the translations of ancient Japanese Rituals,27 by Ernest
Satow, Esq.; of the Kojiki, or “Records of Ancient Matters,”28 by
Basil Hall Chamberlain, Esq.; and an ancient Japanese Classic29 ,
by W. G. Aston, Esq.,—we get a glimpse of the Japanese house
as it was a thousand years or more ago.
Mr. Satow claims that the ancient Japanese Rituals are “the
oldest specimens of ancient indigenous Japanese literature ex-
tant, excepting only perhaps the poetry contained in the ‘Kojiki’
and ‘Nihongi;’ ” and Mr. Chamberlain says the “Kojiki” is “the [324]
earliest authentic connected literary product of that large divi-
sion of the human race which has been variously denominated
Turanian, Scythian, and Altaïc, and it if even precedes by at
26
Owing to the sensible civil service of England, scholars and diplomates are
appointed to these duties in the East; and as a natural result all the honors,—po-
litical, commercial, and literary,—have, with few exceptions, been won by
Englishmen.
27
Transactions of the Asiatic Society of Japan, vol. ix. part ii. p. 191.
28
Ibid., vol. x. Supplement.
29
Ibid., vol. iii. part ii. p. 131.
 312 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

least a century the most ancient extant literary compositions of

non-Aryan India.”
The allusions to house-structure in the “Kojiki,” though brief,
are suggestive, and carry us back without question to the condi-
tion of the Japanese house in the seventh and eighth centuries.
Mr. Satow, in his translation of the Rituals, says that the
period when this service was first instituted was certainly before
the tenth century, and probably earlier. From these records
he ascertains that “the palace of the Japanese sovereign was a
wooden hut, with its pillars planted in the ground, instead of
being erected upon broad, flat stones, as in modern buildings.
The whole frame-work, consisting of posts, beams, rafters, door-
posts, and window-frames, was tied together with cords, made
by twisting the long fibrous stems of climbing plants,—such as
Pueraria Thunbergiana (kuzu) and Wistaria Sinensis (fuji). The
floor must have been low down, so that the occupants of the
building, as they squatted or lay on their mats, were exposed to
the stealthy attacks of venomous snakes, which were probably
far more numerous in the earliest ages when the country was for
the most part uncultivated than at the present day…There seems
some reason to think that the yuka, here translated ‘floor,’ was
originally nothing but a couch which ran around the sides of the
hut, the rest of the space being simply a mud-floor; and that
the size of the couch was gradually increased until it occupied
the whole interior. The rafters projected upward beyond the
ridge-pole, crossing each other as is seen in the roofs of modern
Shin-tau temples, whether their architecture be in conformity
with early traditions (in which case all the rafters are so crossed),
[325] or modified in accordance with more advanced principles of
construction, and the crossed rafters retained only as ornaments
at the two ends of the ridge. The roof was thatched, and perhaps
had a gable at each end, with a hole to allow the smoke of the
wood-fire to escape,—so that it was possible for birds flying in
and perching on the beams overhead, to defile the food, or the
CHAPTER VIII. THE ANCIENT HOUSE. 313

fire with which it was cooked.”

From the “Kojiki” we learn that even in those early days the
house was sufficiently differentiated to present forms referred to
as temples or palaces, houses of the people, storehouses, and rude
huts. That the temples or palaces were more than rude huts is
shown by references to the verandah, the great roof, stout pillars,
and high cross-beams. They were at least two stories high, as
we read of people gazing from an upper story. The peasants
were not allowed to build a house with a raised roof frame,—that
is, a roof the upper portion or ridge of which was raised above
the roof proper, and having a different structure. This indicates
the existence at that time of different kinds of roofs, or ridges.
Fire-places were in the middle of the floor, and the smoke-outlet
was in the gable end of the roof protected by a lattice,—as seen
in the Japanese country houses of to-day. The posts or pillars
of the house were buried deep in the ground, and not, as in the
present house, resting on a stone foundation.
The allusions in the “Kojiki,” where it says, “and if thou goest
in a boat along that road there will appear a palace built like
fish-scales,” and again, “the ill-omened crew were shattered like
tiles,” show the existence of tiles at that time. A curious reference
is also made to using cormorants' feathers for thatch. There were
front doors and back doors, doors to be raised, and windows and
openings.
It is mentioned that through the awkwardness of the carpenter
the farther “fin” of the great roof is bent down at the cor- [326]
ner,—probably indicating wide over-hanging eaves, the corners
of which might easily be called “fins.” Within the house were
mats of sedge, skin, and silk, and ornamental screens protect
the sleepers from draughts of air.30 The castles had back gates,
side gates, and other gates. Some of these gates, at least, had
30
In Anam I noticed that the bed-rooms were indicated by hanging cloth
partition as well as by those made of matting.
 314 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

a roof-like structure above, as we read in the “Kojiki,” “Come

under the metal gate; we will stand till the rain stops.”
Fences are also alluded to. The latrine is mentioned several
times as being away from the house, and having been placed
over running water,—“whence doubtless the name Kaha-ya; that
is, river-house.” This feature is specially characteristic of the
latrine, from Siam to Java. This suggestion of early finities with
the Malay people is seen in an ancient Japanese Classic, dating
from the tenth century, entitled Monogatari, or “Tales of Japan,”
translated by Mr. Chamberlain,31 in which we read, “Now, in
olden days the people dwelt in houses raised on platforms built
out in the river Ikuta.” In the “Kojiki”, we also read, “They
made in the middle of the river Hi a black plaited bridge, and
respectfully offered a temporary palace to dwell in.” The trans-
lator says the significance of this passage is: “They built as a
temporary abode for the prince a house in the river Hi (whether
with its foundations actually in the water or on an island is left
undetermined), connecting it with the main-land by a bridge
made of branches of trees; twisted together, and with their bark
left on them (this is here the import of the word black).”
The “Kojiki” mentions a two-forked boat: may this be some
kind of a catamaran? Mention is also made of eating from
[327] leaf-platters: this is a marked Malay feature.
These various statements—particularly those concerning the
latrine, and building houses over the water—are significant indi-
cations of the marked southern affinities of the Japanese. Other
features of similarity with southern people are seen in the general
structure of the house.
The principal references which have been made to the “Kojiki”
are quoted here for the convenience of the reader. For the his-
tory of the origin of this ancient record, methods of translation,
etc., the reader is referred to Mr. Chamberlain's Introduction
31
Transactions of the Asiatic Society of Japan, vol. vi. part i. p. 109.
CHAPTER VIII. THE ANCIENT HOUSE. 315

accompanying the translation.

And the ill-omened crew were shattered like tiles (p. 8).

So when from the palace she raised the door and came out to
meet him (p. 34).

Taking him into the house, and calling him into an eight-foot-
spaced large room (p. 73).

Do thou make stout the temple-pillars at the foot of Mount

Uka in the nethermost rock-bottom, and make high the cross-
beams to the Plain-of-High-Heaven (p. 74).

I push back the plank-door shut by the maiden (p. 76).

Beneath the fluttering of the ornamented fence, beneath the

softness of the warm coverlets, beneath the rustling of the
cloth coverlet (p. 81).

The translator says “the ‘ornamented fence’ is supposed to

mean ‘a curtain round the sleeping-place.’ ”

The soot on the heavenly new lattice of the gable, etc. (p.
105).32

Using cormorants' feathers for thatch (p. 126).

The manner in which I will send this sword down will be to

perforate the ridge of [the roof of] Takakurazhi's store-house,
and drop it through!(p. 135)

In a damp hut on the reed-moor, having spread layer upon

layer of sedge mats, we two slept! (p. 149).

When she was about to enter the sea, she spread eight
thicknesses of sedge rugs, eight thicknesses of skin rugs, and
eight thicknesses of silk rugs on top of the waves (p. 212).
316 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

[328]

So when the grandee of Kuchiko was repeating this august

Song [to the Empress], it was raining heavily. Then upon his,
without avoid the rain, coming and prostrating himself at the
front door of the palace, on the contrary went out at the back
door; and on his coming and prostrating himself at the back
door of the palace, she on the contrary went out at the front
door (p. 278).

Then the Heavenly Sovereign, going straight to the place

where Queen Medori dwelt, stood on the door-sill of the
palace (p. 281).

Had I known that I should sleep on the

Moor of Tajihi, Oh! I would have brought
My dividing matting. (p. 288.)

“Then, on climbing to the top of the mountain and gazing on

the interior of the country, [he perceived that] there was a
house built with a raised roof-frame. The Heavenly Sovereign
sent to ask [concerning] that house, saying, ‘Whose roof with
a raised frame is that?’ The answeri was: ‘It is the house of
the great Departmental Lord of Shiki.’ Then the Heavenly
Sovereign said: ‘What! a slave builds his own house in imi-
tation of the august abode of the Heavenly Sovereign!’—and
forthwith he sent men to burn the house [down]” (p. 311).

Thereupon the grandee Shibi sang, saying,—

The further fin of the roof of the great

Palace is bent down at the corner.

32
Satow gives quite a different rendering of this passage.
CHAPTER VIII. THE ANCIENT HOUSE. 317

When he had thus sung, and requested the conclusion of

tha Song, His Augustness Woke sang, saying,—

It is on account of the great carpenter's

Awkwardness that it is bent down at the
Corner. (p. 330.)

In the ancient Japanese Rituals, Mr. Satow finds that the rafters
projected upward beyond the ridge-pole of the roof crossing each
other,—as is seen in the roofs of modern Shin-tM temples. A
curious feature is often seen on the gable ends of the roofs
of the Malay houses near Singapore, consisting of projecting
pieces crossing each other at the two ends of the roof; and these [329]
are ornamented by being cut in odd sweeps and curves (fig.
303). Survivals of these crossing rafters are seen in the modern
Japanese dwelling; that is, if we are to regard as such the wooden
X's which straddle the roof at intervals, as shown in figs. 45
(page 62) and 85 (page 98). A precisely similar feature is seen
on the roofs of houses along the river approaching Saigon, and
on the road leading from Saigon to Cholon, in Anam (fig. 304).

Fig. 303.—Malay house near singapore.

 318 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

It has been customary to regard the tokonoma, or bed-place,

in the Japanese house as being derived from the Aino house.
The suggestion of such a derivation seems to me to have no
foundation. In the Aino house the solid ground is the floor;
sometimes, but not always, a rush mat is spread along the side
of the fireplace, which is in the centre of the hut. The slightest
attention to comfort would lead the Ainos to erect a platform of
boards,—and such a platform is generally found next to the wall
in the Aino hut. This platform not only serves as a sleeping-place,
but holds also boxes and household goods, as well as such objects
as were not suspended to the sides of the houses or from poles
stretched across. In no case did I see a raised platform protected
by a partition, or one utilized solely for a sleeping-place. If
it were safe to venture upon any conjecture as to the origin of
the tokonoma, or if external resemblances had any weight in
affinities of structure, one might see the prototype of this feature
[330] in the Malay house. In the Malay villages near Singapore, one
may see not only a slightly raised place for the bed exclusively,
but also a narrow partition jutting out from the side of the wall,
not unlike that which separates the tokonoma from its companion
recess (fig. 305).

Fig. 304.—Ridge of roof in Cholon, Anam.

Whether these various relations pointed out between the

Japanese house and similar features in the Malay house are
of any weight or not, they must be recognized in any attempt to
trace the origin of those features in house-structure which have
originated outside of Japan. From all that we can gather relating
to the ancient house of the Japanese, it would seem that certain
important resemblances must be sought for among the southern
CHAPTER VIII. THE ANCIENT HOUSE. 319

nations of Anam, Cochin China, and particularly those of the

Malay peninsula.

Fig. 305.—Interior of Malay house, showing bed-place.

Singapore.

[331]
Ernest Satow, Esq., in an article on the Shin-tM temples of
Ise,33 which, as the author says, “rank first among all the Shin-tM
temples in Japan in point of sanctity, though not the most an-
cient,” has some interesting matter concerning the character of
the ancient house. He says:—
“Japanese antiquarians tell us that in early times, before car-
penters' tools had been invented, the dwellings of the people
who inhabited these islands were constructed of young trees
with the bark on, fastened together with ropes made of the rush
(suge,—Scirpus maritimus), or perhaps with the tough shoots of
the wistaria (fuji), and thatched with the grass called kaya. In
modern buildings the uprights of a house stand upon large stones
laid on the surface of the earth; but this precaution against decay
had not occurred to the ancients, who planted the uprights in
holes dug in the ground.”
The ground-plan of the hut was oblong, with four corner up-
rights, and one in the middle of each of the four sides,—those in
the sides which formed the ends being long enough to support the
ridge-pole. Other trees were fastened horizontally from corner to
corner,—one set near the ground, one near the top, and one set on
33
Translations of the Asiatic Society of Japan, vol. ii. p. 119.
 320 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

the top, the latter of which formed what we call the wall-plates.
Two large rafters, whose upper ends crossed each other, were
laid from the wall-plates to the heads of the taller uprights. The
ridge-pole rested in the fork formed by the upper ends of the
rafters crossing each other. Horizontal poles were then laid along
each slope of the roof, one pair being fastened close up to the
exterior angle of the fork. The rafters were slender poles, or
bamboos, passed over the ridge-pole and fastened down on each
end to the wall-plates. Next followed the process of putting on
the thatch. In order to keep this in its place, two trees were laid
along the top resting in the forks; and across these two trees were
placed short logs at equal distances, which being fastened to the
poles in the exterior angle of the forks by ropes passed through
the thatch, bound the ridge of the roof firmly together.
“The walls and doors were constructed of rough matting. It
is evident that some tool must have been used to cut the trees to
the required length; and for this purpose a sharpened stone was
[332] probably employed. Such stone implements have been found
imbedded in the earth in various parts of Japan, in company with
stone arrow-heads and clubs. Specimens of the ancient style
of building may even yet be seen in remote parts of the coun-
try,—not perhaps so much in the habitations of the peasantry, as
in sheds erected to serve a temporary purpose.”
“The architecture of the Shin-tM temples is derived from the
primeval hut, with more or less modification in proportion to
the influence of Buddhism in each particular case. Those of the
purest style retain the thatched roof; others are covered with the
thick shingling called hiwada-buki, while others have tiled and
even coppered roofs. The projecting ends of the rafters called
chigi have been somewhat lengthened, and carved more or less
elaborately. At the new temple at Kudanzaka in Yedo they are
shown in the proper position, projecting from the inside of the
shingling; but in the majority of cases they merely consist of
two pieces of wood in the form of the letter X, which rest on
CHAPTER VIII. THE ANCIENT HOUSE. 321

the ridge of the roof like a pack-saddle on a horse's back, to

make use of a Japanese writer's comparison. The logs which
kept the two trees laid on the ridge in their place have taken the
form of short cylindrical pieces of timber tapering towards each
extremity, which have been compared by foreigners to cigars.
In Japanese they are called katsuo-gi, from their resemblance to
the pieces of dried bonito sold under the name of katsuo-bushi.
The two trees laid along the roof over the thatch are represented
by a single beam, called Munaosae, or ‘roof-presser.’ Planking
has taken the place of the mats with which the sides of the
building were originally closed, and the entrance is closed by a
pair of folding doors, turning not on hinges, but on what are, I
believe, technically called ‘journals.’ The primeval hut had no
flooring; but we find that the shrine has a wooden floor raised
some feet above the ground, which arrangement necessitates a
sort of balcony all round, and a flight of steps up to the entrance.
The transformation is completed in some cases by the addition
of a quantity of ornamental metal-work in brass.”
Coming down to somewhat later times, we find a charming
bit of description of the house in an ancient Japanese Classic34
entitled Tosa Nikki, or “Tosa Diary,” translated by W. G. Aston. [333]
This Diary was written in the middle of the tenth century, and
is the record of a court noble who lived in Kioto, but who was
absent from his home five or six years as Prefect of Tosa. The
Diary was a record of his journey home, and the first entry
in it was in the fourth year of Shohei, which according to our
reckoning must have been in the early part of 935 A.D., or nearly
one thousand years ago. During his absence from home, news
had come to him of the death of his little daughter nine years
old; and he says, “With the joyful thought, ‘Home to Kioto!’
there mingles the bitter reflection that there is one who never will
return.”

34
Transactions of the Asiatic Society of Japan, vol. iii. part ii.
 322 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

The journey home was mostly by sea; and finally, having

entered the Osaka River, and spent several days in struggling
against the strong current, he reaches Yamazaki, from which
place he starts for Kioto. He expresses great delight in recogniz-
ing the old familiar landmarks as he rides along. “He mentions
the children's playthings and sweetmeats in the shops as looking
exactly as when he went away, and wonders whether he will find
as little change in the hearts of his friends. He had purposely left
Yamazaki in the evening in order that it might be night when he
reached his own dwelling.” Mr. Aston translates his account of
the state in which he found it:—
“The moon was shining brightly when I reached my house
and entered the gate, so that its condition was plainly to be seen.
It was decayed and ruined beyond all description,—worse even
than I had been told. The house35 of the man in whose charge I
left it was in an equally dilapidated condition. The fence between
the two houses had been broken down, so that both seemed but
one, and he appeared to have fulfilled his charge by looking in
through the gaps. And yet I had supplied him, by every opportu-
[334] nity, with the means of keeping it in repair. To-night, however, I
would not allow him to be told this in an angry tone, but in spite
of my vexation offered him an acknowledgment for his trouble.
There was in one place something like a pond, where water had
collected in a hollow, by the side of which grew a fir-tree. It
had lost half its branches, and looked as if a thousand years had
passed during the five or six years of my absence. Younger
trees had grown up round it, and the whole place was in a most
neglectful condition, so that every a one said that it was pitiful
to see. Among other sad thoughts that rose spontaneously to my
mind was the memory—ah! how sorrowful!—of one who was
born in this house, but who did not return here along with me.
My fellow-passengers were chatting merrily with their children
35
In Mr. Aston's translation this word is printed “heart,” but evidently this
must be a misprint.
CHAPTER VIII. THE ANCIENT HOUSE. 323

in their arms, but I meanwhile, still unable to contain my grief,

privately repeated these lines to one who knew my heart.”
In this pathetic account one gets a glimpse of the house as it
appeared nearly a thousand years ago. The broken fence between
the houses; the gateway, probably a conspicuous structure then
as it is to-day, in a dilapidated condition; and the neglected
garden with a tangle of young trees growing up,—all show the
existence in those early days of features similar to those which
exist to-day.
The history of house development in Japan, if it should ever
be revealed, will probably show a slow but steady progress from
the rude hut of the past to the curious and artistic house of
to-day,—a house as thoroughly a product of Japan as is that of
the Chinese, Korean, or Malay a product of those respective
peoples, and differing from all quite as much as they differ
from one another. A few features have been introduced from
abroad, but these have been trifling as compared to the wholesale
imitation of foreign styles of architecture by our ancestors, the
English; and until within a few years we have followed Eng-
land's example in perpetuating the legacy it left us, in the shape
of badly imitated foreign architecture, classical and otherwise.
As a result, we have scattered over the land, among a few public
buildings of good taste, a countless number of ill-proportioned, [335]
ugly, and entirely inappropriate buildings for public use. Had the
exuberant fancies of the village architect revelled in woodsheds
or one-storied buildings, the harm would have been trifling; but
the desire for pretentious show, which seems to characterize the
average American, has led to the erection of these architectural
horrors on the most conspicuous sites,—and thus the public taste
is vitiated.
The Japanese, while developing an original type of house,
have adopted the serviceable tile from Korea, and probably also
the economical transverse framing and vertical struts from China,
and bits of temple architecture for external adornments. As to
 324 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

their temple architecture, which came in with one of their reli-

gions, they had the good sense to leave it comparatively as it was
brought to them. Indeed, the temples seem in perfect harmony
with the country and its people. What shall we say, however,
to the taste displayed by the English, who in the most servile
manner have copied foreign styles of architecture utterly unsuited
to their climate and people! In the space of an English block
one may see not only Grecian, Roman, Italian, and Egyptian, as
well as other styles of architecture, but audaciously attempted
crosses between some of these; and the resulting hybrids have in
consequence rendered the modern English town the most unpic-
turesque muddle of buildings in Christendom outside our own
[336] country.36

36
It is lamentable to reflect how many monstrous designs have been per-
petrated under the general name of Gothic, which are neither in spirit nor
letter realized the character of Mediaeval art. In London these extraordinary
ebullitions of uneducated taste generally appear in the form of meeting-houses,
music-halls, and similar places of popular resort. Showy in their general effect,
and usually overloaded with meretricious ornament, they are likely enough to
impose upon an uninformed judgment, which is incapable of discriminating
between what Mr. Ruskin has called the “Lamp of Sacrifice,”—one of the
glories of ancient art,—and the lust of profusion which is the bane of modern
design.—Eastlake's Hints on Household Taste, p. 21.
CHAPTER IX. THE
NEIGHBORING HOUSE.

Having got a glimpse, and a slight glimpse only, of the ancient

house in Japan, it may be of interest to consider briefly the
character of the house in neighboring islands forming part of the
Japanese Empire, and also of the house in that country which
comes nearest to Japan (Korea), and from which country in the
past there have been many both peaceful and compulsory in-
vasions,—compulsory in the fact that when Hideyoshi returned
from Korea, nearly three hundred years ago, after his great inva-
sion of that country, he brought back with him to Japan colonies
of potters and other artisans.
The Ainos of Yezo naturally claim our attention first, because
it is believed that they were the aboriginal people of Japan proper,
and were afterwards displaced by the Japanese,—a displacement
similar to that of our North American savages by the English
colonists. Whether the Ainos are autochthonous or not, will not
be discussed here. That they are a savage race, without written
language,—a race which formerly occupied the northern part of
the main island of Japan, and were gradually forced back to Yezo,
where they still live in scattered communities,—are facts which
are unquestionable. How far the Aino house to-day represents
the ancient Aino house, and how many features of the Japanese [337]
house are engrafted upon it, are points difficult to determine.
The Ainos that I saw in the Ishikari valley, on the west coast
of Yezo, and from Shiraoi south on the east coast, all spoke
Japanese, ate out of lacquer bowls, used chop-sticks, smoked
small pipes, drank sake, and within their huts possessed lacquer
 326 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

boxes and other conveniences in which to stow away their cloth-

ing, which had probably been given them in past times by the
Japanese, and which were heirlooms. On the other hand, they
retained their own language, their long, narrow dug-out; used
the small bow, the poisoned arrow, and had an arrow-release
of their own; adhered to their ancestral forms of worship and
their peculiar methods of design, and were quite as persistent in
clinging to many of their customs as are our own Western tribes
of Indians. That they are susceptible to change is seen in the
presence of a young Aino at the normal school in Tokio, from
whom I derived some interesting facts concerning archery.

Fig. 306.—Aino house, Yezo.

Briefly, the Aino house, as I saw it, consists of a rude frame-

[338] work of timber supporting a thatched roof; the walls being made
up of reeds and rush interwoven with stiffer cross-pieces. With-
in, there is a single room the dimensions of the house. In most
houses there is an L, in which is the doorway, which may in some
cases be covered with a rude porch. The thatched roof is well
made and quite picturesque, differing somewhat in form from
any thatched roof among the Japanese,—though in Yamato, as
already mentioned, I saw features in the slope of the roof quite
similar to those shown in some of the Aino roofs.
CHAPTER IX. THE NEIGHBORING HOUSE. 327

Fig. 307.—Aino house, Yezo.

Entering the house by the low door, one comes into a room so
dark that it is with difficulty one can see anything. The inmates
light rolls of birch-bark that one may be enabled to see the interi-
or; but every appearance of neatness and picturesqueness which
the hut presented from without vanishes when one gets inside.
Beneath one's feet is a hard, damp, earth floor; directly above
are the blackened and soot-covered rafters. Poles supported
horizontally from these rafters are equally greasy and blackened,
and pervading the darkness is a dirty and strong fishy odor. In
the middle of the floor, and occupying considerable space, is a
square area,—the fireplace. On its two sides mats are spread. A
pot hangs over the smoke, for there appears to be but little fire; [339]
and at one side is a large bowl containing the remains of the last
meal, consisting apparently of fish-bones,—large sickly-looking
bones, the sight of which instantly vitiates one's appetite. The
smoke, rebuffed at the only opening save the door,—a small
square opening close under the low eaves,—struggles to escape
through a small opening in the angle of the roof. On one side
of the room is a slightly raised floor of boards, upon which
are mats, lacquer-boxes, bundles of nets, and a miscellaneous
assortment of objects. Hanging from the rafters and poles are
bows, quivers of arrows, Japanese daggers mounted on curious
wooden tablets inlaid with lead, slices of fish and skates' heads
in various stages, not of decomposition, as the odors would seem
to imply, but of smoke preservation. Dirt everywhere, and fleas.
 328 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

And in the midst of the darkness, smoke, and squalor are the
inmates,—quiet, demure, and gentle to the last degree. Figs. 306
and 307 give an idea of the appearance of two Aino houses of
the better kind, but perhaps cannot be taken as a type of the Aino
house farther north on the island.
Let us now glance at the house of the natives of the Hachijô
Islanders, as described by Mr. Dickins and Mr. Satow.37 From
their communication the following account is taken:—
“As may readily be supposed, there are no shops or inns on
the island, but fair accommodation for travellers can be obtained
at the farmers' houses. These are for the most part substantial-
ly-built cottages of two or three rooms, with a spacious kitchen,
constructed with the timber of Quercus cuspidata, and with plank
walls, where on the mainland it is usual to have plastered wattles.
The roof is invariably of thatch, with a very high pitch,—neces-
sitated, we were told, by the extreme dampness of the climate,
[340] which renders it desirable to allow as little rain as possible to
soak into the straw. Many of the more prosperous farmers have
a second building, devoted to the rearing of silkworms, which
takes its name (kaiko-ya) from the purpose to which it is destined.
There are also sheds for cattle, usually consisting of a thatched
roof resting on walls formed of rough stone-work. Lastly, each
enclosure possesses a wooden godown, raised some four feet
from the ground on stout wooden posts, crowned with broad
caps, to prevent the mice from gaining an entrance. The style
resembles that of the storehouses constructed by the Ainos and
Loochooans.”
“The house and vegetable-garden belonging to it are usually
surrounded by a stone wall, or rather bank of stones and earth,
often six feet high, designed to protect the buildings from the
violent gales which at certain seasons sweep over the island,
and which, as we learned, frequently do serious injury to the
37
Notes of a visit to Hachijô, in 1878. By F. V. Dickins and Ernest Satow.
Transactions of the Asiatic Society of Japan, vol. vi. part iii. p. 435.
CHAPTER IX. THE NEIGHBORING HOUSE. 329

rice-fields by the quantity of salt spray which they carry a long

distance inland from the shore.”
From this general description of the house which incidentally
accompanies a very interesting sketch of the physical peculiar-
ities of the island, its geology, botany, and the customs and
dialect of the people, we get no idea of the special features the
house,—as to the fireplace or bed-place; whether there be shMji
or ordinary windows, matted floor, or any of those details which
would render a comparison with the Japanese house of value.
As Mr. Satow found in the language of the Hachijô Is-
lander a number of words which appeared to be survivals of
archaic Japanese, and also among their customs the curious one,
which existed up to within very recent times, of erecting partu-
rition houses,—a feature which is alluded to in the very earliest
records of Japan,—a minute description of the Hachijô house
with sketches might possibly lead to some facts of interest.
The Loochoo, or Riukiu Islands, now known as Okinawa
Shima, lie nearly midway between the southern part of Japan and
the Island of Formosa. The people of this group differ but little [341]
from the Japanese,—their language, according to Mr. Satow and
Mr. Brunton, having in it words that appear obsolete in Japan.
In many customs there is a curious admixture of Chinese and
Japanese ways; and Mr. Brunton sees in the Loochooan bridge
and other structures certain resemblances to Chinese methods.
The following extract regarding the house of the Loochooans
is taken from an account of a visit to these islands, by Ernest
Satow, Esq., published in the first volume of the “Transactions
of the Asiatic Society of Japan:”—

“The houses of the Loochooans are built in Japanese fashion,

with the floor raised three or four feet from the ground, and
have mostly only one story, on account of the violent winds
which prevail. They are roofed with tiles of a Chinese fashion,
very strong and thick. The buildings in which they store their
rice are built of wood and thatched with straw. They are
 330 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

supported on wooden posts about five feet high, and resemble

the granaries of the Ainos, though constructed with much
greater care.”

Another extract is here given in regard to the house of the Loo-

chooans, by R. H. Brunton, Esq., published in the “Transactions
of the Asiatic Society of Japan38 ”:—

The streets in the towns present a most desolate appearance.

On each side of these is a blank stone wall of about ten
or twelve feet high, with openings in them here and there
sufficiently wide to admit of access to the houses which are
behind. Every house is surrounded by a wall, and from the
street they convey the impression of being prisons rather than
ordinary dwellings…
“The houses of the well-to-do classes are situated in a
yard which is surrounded by a wall ten or twelve feet high, as
has been already mentioned. They are similar to the ordinary
Japanese houses, with raised floors laid with mats and sliding
screens of paper. They are built of wood, and present no
[342] peculiar differences from the Japanese style of construction.
The roofs are laid with tiles, which however are quite different
in shape from the Japanese tiles. Over the joint between two
concave tiles a convex one is laid, and these are all semi-cir-
cular in cross sections. The tiles are made at Nafa, and are
red in color; they appeared of good quality. The houses of
the poorer classes are of very primitive character. The roof is
covered with a thick thatch, and is supported by four corner
uprights about five feet high. The walls consist of sheets of
a species of netting made of small bamboo, which contain
between them a thickness of about six inches of straw. This
encloses the whole sides of the house,—a width of about two
feet being left in one side as an entrance. There is no flooring
in the houses of any description, and there is generally laid
over the mud inside a mat, on which the inmates lie or sit.”
38
Vol. iv. p. 68.
CHAPTER IX. THE NEIGHBORING HOUSE. 331

Considering the presence for so many centuries of strong Chi-

nese influence which Mr. Brunton sees in the Loochooans, it is
rather surprising to find so many features of the Japanese house
present in their dwellings. Indeed, Mr. Brunton goes so far as
to say that the Loochooan house presents no peculiar differences
from the Japanese style of construction; and as he has paid special
attention to the constructive features of Japanese buildings, we
must believe that had differences existed they would have been
noted by him.
It seems to me that the wide distribution of certain identical
features in Japanese house-structure, from the extreme north of
Japan to the Loochoo Islands, is something remarkable. Here is
a people who for centuries lived almost independent provincial
lives, the northern and southern provinces speaking different
dialects, even the character of the people varying, and yet from
Awomori in the north to the southernmost parts of Satsuma,
and even farther south to the Loochoos, the use of fusuma,
shMji, mats, and thin wood-ceilings seems well-nigh universal.
The store-houses standing on four posts are referred to in the
description of the Hachijô Islanders as well as in that of the
Loochooans as resembling those constructed by the Ainos; yet
these resemblances must not be taken as indicating a community [343]
of origin, but simply as the result of necessity. For travellers
in Kamtchatka, and farther west, speak of the same kind of
store-houses; and farther south they may be seen in Singapore
and Java,—in fact, in every country town in New England; and
indeed all over the United States the same kind of storehouse
is seen. Probably all over the world a store-house on four legs,
even to the inverted box or pan on each leg, may be found.
Through the courtesy of Percival Lowell, Esq., I am enabled
to see advanced sheets of his work on Korea, entitled “The Land
of the Morning Calm;” and from this valuable work the author
has permitted me to gather many interesting facts concerning the
Korean dwellings. The houses are of one story; a flight of two
 332 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

or three steps leads to a narrow piazza, or very wide sill, which

encircles the entire building. The apartment within is only limited
by the size of the building; in other words, there is only one room
under the roof. The better class of dwellings, however, consist
of groups of these buildings. The house is of wood, and rests
upon a stone foundation. This foundation consists of a series of
connecting chambers, or flues; and at one side is a large fireplace,
or oven, in which the fire is built. The products of combustion
circulate through this labyrinth of chambers, and find egress, not
by a chimney, but by an outlet on the opposite side. In this way
the room above is warmed. There are three different types of this
oven-like foundation. In the best type a single slab of stone is
supported by a number of stout stone pillars; upon this stone floor
is spread a layer of earth, and upon this earth is spread oil-paper
like a carpet. In another arrangement, ridges of earth and small
stones run lengthwise from front to back; on top of this the same
arrangement is made of stone, earth, and oil-paper. In the third
[344] type, representing a still poorer class, the oven and flues are
hollowed out of the earth alone. Mr. Lowell remarks that the idea
is a good one, if it were only accompanied by proper ventilation.
Unfortunately, he says, the room above is no better than a box,
in which the occupant is slowly roasted. Another disadvantage
is experienced in the impossibility of warming a room at once.
He says: “The room does not even begin to get warm until you
have passed through an agonizing interval of expectancy. Then
it takes what seems forever to reach a comfortable temperature,
passes this brief second of happiness before you have had time to
realize that it has attained it, and continues mounting to unknown
degrees in a truly alarming manner, beyond the possibility of
control.” This curious and ingenious method of warming houses
is said to have been introduced from China some one hundred
and fifty years ago.
A house of the highest order is simply a frame-work,—a roof
supported on eight or more posts according to the size of the
CHAPTER IX. THE NEIGHBORING HOUSE. 333

building; and this with a foundation represents the only fixed

structure. In summer it presents a skeleton-like appearance;
in winter, however, it appears solid and compact, as a series
of folding-doors,—a pair between each two posts,—closes it
completely. These are prettily latticed, open outward, and are
fastened from within by a hook and knob. By a curious arrange-
ment these doors can be removed from their hinges, the upper
parts only remaining attached, and fastened up by hooks to the
ceiling. This kind of a house and room is used as a banqueting
hall and a room for general entertainment. It may be compared
to our drawing-room.
Dwelling-rooms are constructed on quite a different plan. In-
stead of continuous doors, the sides are composed of permanent
walls and doors. The wall is of wood, except that in the poorer
house it consists of mud. Says Mr. Lowell: “In these buildings
we have an elaborate system of three-fold aperture closers,—a [345]
species of three skins, only that they are for consecutive, not si-
multaneous, use. The outer is the folding-door above mentioned;
the other two are a couple of pairs of sliding panels,—the sur-
vivors in Korea of the once common sliding screens, such as are
used to-day in Japan. One of the pairs is covered with dark green
paper, and is for night use; the other is of the natural yellowish
color of the oil-paper, and is used by day. When not wanted, they
slide back into grooves inside the wall, whence they are pulled
out again by ribbons fastened near the middle of the outer edge.
All screens of this sort, whether in houses or palanquins, are
provided, unlike the Japanese, with these conveniences for tying
the two halves of each pair together, and thus enabling easier
adjustment.” The house-lining within is oil-paper. “Paper covers
the ceiling, lines the wall, spreads the floor. As you sit in your
room your eye falls upon nothing but paper; and the very light
that enables you to see anything at all sifts in through the same
material.”
It will be seen by these brief extracts how dissimilar the Ko-
 334 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

rean house is to that of the Japanese. And this dissimilarity is

fully sustained by an examination of the photographs which Mr.
Lowell made in Korea, and which show among other things low
stone-walled houses with square openings for windows, closed
by frames covered with paper, the frames hung from above and
opening outside, and the roof tiled; also curious thatched roofs,
in which the slopes are uneven and rounding, and their ridges
curiously knotted or braided, differing in every respect from the
many forms of thatched roof in Japan.
The Chinese house, as I saw it in Shanghai and its suburbs,
and at Canton as well as up the river, shows differences from the
Japanese house quite as striking as those of the Korean house.
[346] Here one sees, in the cities at least, solid brick-walled houses,
with kitchen range built into the wall, and chimney equally
permanent; tiled-roof, with tiled ridges; enclosed court-yard;
floors of stone, upon which the shoes are worn from the street;
doorways, with doors on hinges; window openings closed by
swinging frames fitted with the translucent shells of Placuna, or
white paper, the latter usually in a dilapidated condition; and
for furniture they have tables, chairs, bedsteads, drawers, babies'
chairs, cradles, foot-stools, and thel like. The farm-houses of
China in those regions that I visited were equally unlike similar
houses in Japan.
From this superficial glance at the character of the house in
the outlying Islands of the Japanese Empire, as well as at the
houses of the neighboring countries, Korea and China, I think it
will be conceded that the Japanese house is typically a product
of the people, with just those features from abroad incorporated
in it that one might look for, considering the proximity to Japan
of China and Korea. When we remember that these three great
civilizations of the Mongoloid race approximate within the radius
of a few hundred miles, and that they have been in more or less
intimate contact since early historic times, we cannot wonder that
the germs of Japanese art and letters should have been adopted
CHAPTER IX. THE NEIGHBORING HOUSE. 335

from the continent. In precisely the same way our ancestors,

the English, drew from their continent the material for their lan-
guage, art, music, architecture, and many other important factors
in their civilization; and if history speaks truly, their refinement
even in language and etiquette was imported. But while Japan,
like England, has modified and developed the germs ingrafted
from a greater and older civilization, it has ever preserved the
elasticity of youth, and seized upon the good things of our civ-
ilization,—such as steam, electricity, and modern methods of
study and research,—and utilized them promptly. Far different is
it from the mother country, where the improvements and methods [347]
of other nations get but tardy recognition.
It seems to give certain English writers peculiar delight to
stigmatize the Japanese as a nation of imitators and copyists.
From the contemptuous manner in which disparagements of this
nature are flung into the faces of the Japanese who are engaged in
their heroic work of establishing sound methods of government
and education, one would think that in England had originated
the characters by which the English people write, the paper upon
which they print, the figures by which they reckon, the compass
by which they navigate, the gunpowder by which they subjugate,
the religion with which they worship. Indeed, when one looks
over the long list of countries upon which England has drawn
for the arts of music, painting, sculpture, architecture, printing,
engraving, and a host of other things, it certainly comes with an
ill-grace from natives of that country to taunt the Japanese with
being imitators.
It would be obviously absurd to suggest as a model for our
own houses such a structure as a Japanese house. Leaving out
the fact that it is not adapted to the rigor of our climate or to the
habits of our people, its fragile and delicate fittings if adopted
by us, would be reduced to a mass of kindlings in a week, by
the rude knocks it would receive; and as for exposing on our
public thoroughfares the delicate labyrinth of carvings often seen
 336 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

on panel and post in Japan, the wide-spread vandalism of our

country would render futile all such attempts to civilize and
refine. Fortunately, in that land which we had in our former
ignorance and prejudice regarded as uncivilized, the malevolent
form of the genus homo called “vandal” is unknown.
Believing that the Japanese show infinitely greater refinement
in their methods of house-adornment than we do, and convinced
[348] that their tastes are normally artistic, I have endeavored to empha-
size my convictions by holding up in contrast our usual methods
of house-furnishing and outside embellishments. By so doing I
do not mean to imply that we do not have in America interiors
that show the most perfect refinement and taste; or that in Japan,
on the other hand, interiors may not be found in which good taste
is wanting.
I do not expect to do much good in thus pointing out what
I believe to be better methods, resting on more refined stan-
dards. There are some, I am sure, who will approve; but the
throng—who are won by tawdry glint and tinsel; who make
possible, by admiration and purchase, the horrors of much that is
made for house-furnishing and adornment—will, with character-
istic obtuseness, call all else but themselves and their own ways
heathen and barbarous.
GLOSSARY.
[349]
In the following list of Japanese words used in this work an [350]
opportunity is given to correct a number of mistakes which crept [351]

into, or rather walked boldly into, the text. The author lays no
claim to a knowledge of the Japanese language beyond what
any foreigner might naturally acquire in being thrown among
the people for some time. As far as possible he has followed
Hepburn's Japanese Dictionary for orthography and definition,
and Brunton's Map of Japan for geographical names. Brunton's
map, as well as that published by Rein, spells Settsu with one t.
For the sake of uniformity I have followed this spelling in the
text, though it is contrary to the best authorities. It may be added
that Oshiu and Totomi should be printed with a long accent over
each o.
The words Samurai, Daimio, Kioto, Tokio, and several others,
are now so commonly seen in the periodical literature of our
country that this form of spelling for these words has been re-
tained. For rules concerning the pronunciation of Japanese words
the reader is referred to the Introduction in Hepburn's Dictionary.

Agari-ba The floor for standing upon in coming out of the

bath.
Age-yen A platform that can be raised or lowered.
Amado Rain-door. The outside sliding doors by which the
house is closed at night.
Andon A lamp.
Asagao A colloquial name for a porcelain urinal, from its
resemblance to the flower of the morning-glory.
338 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Benjo Privy. Place for business.

Biwa A lute with four strings.
Biyo-bu A folding screen.

Cha-dokoro Tea-place.
Cha-ire Tea-jar; literally, “tea-put in.”
Cha-no-yu A tea-party.
Chigai-dana A shelf, one half of which is on a different plane
from the other.
ChMdzu-ba Privy; literally, “hand water-place.”
ChMdzu-bachi A convenience near the privy for washing the hands.
Chu-nuri Middle layer of plaster.

Dai-jk-no A pan for holding burning charcoal, used in replen-

ishing the hibachi.
Daiku A carpenter.
Daimio A feudal lord.
Dodai The foundation-sill of a house.
Dodai-ishi Foundation stone.
Do-ma Earth-space. A small unfloored court at the entrance
the house.

Fukuro-dana. Cupboard; literally, “pouch-shelf.”

Fumi-ishi Stepping-stone.
Furo A small culinary furnace, also a bath-tub.
Furosaki biyM- A two-fold screen placed in front of the furo.
bu.
Fusuma A sliding screen between rooms.
Fk-tai The bands which hang down in front of a kake-mono;
literally, “wind-band.”
Futon A quilted bed-cover.
GLOSSARY. 339

Ge-dan Lower step.

Genka The porch at the entrance of a house.
Geta Wooden clogs.
Goyemon buro A form of bath-tub.

Habakari Privy.
Hagi A kind of rush.
Hashira A post.
Hashira kakushi A long narrow picture to hang on post in room;
literally, “post-hide.”
Hibachi A brazier for holding hot coals for warming the
apartments.
Hibashi Metal tongs.
Hikite A recessed catch in a screen for sliding it back and
forth.
Hi-no-ki A species of pine.
Hisashi A small roof projecting over a door or window.
Hon-gawara True tile.
[353]

Ichi-yo-dana A kind of shelf.

Iri-kawa. The space between the verandah and room.
Ishi-dMrM. A stone lantern.

Ji-bukuro. Cupboard.
Jin-dai-sugi “Cedar of God's age.”
Jinrikisha A two-wheeled vehicle drawn by a man.
Ji-zai A hook used for hanging pots over the fire.
JM-dan Upper step. Raised floor in house.

Kago Sedan chair.

340 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

KaikMsha Name of a private school of architecture.

Kake-mono Hanging picture.
Kaki Fence.
Kamado Kitchen range.
Kami-dana A shelf in the house for Shin-tM shrine.
Kami-no-ma Higher room.
Kamoi Lintel.
Kara-kami Sliding screen between rooms.
Kawarake Unglazed earthen ware.
Kaya A kind of grass used for thatch.
Kaya Mosquito netting.
Kazari-kugi Ornamental headed nails.
Kaze-obi The bands which hang down in front of the kake-
mono; literally, “wind-band.”
KeshM-no-ma Toilet-room.
Keyaki A kind of hard wood.
KM-ka Privy; literally, “back frame.”
Koshi-bari A kind of paper used for a dado.
Kuguri-do A small, low door in a gate.
Kura A fire-proof store-house.
Kuro-moji-gaki A kind of ornamental fence.

Ma-bashira Middle post.

Mado Window.
Ma-gaki A fence made of bamboo.
Magari-gane A carpenter's iron square.
Maki-mono Pictures that are kept rolled up, not hung.
Maki-mono- Shelf for make-mono.
dana
Makura Pillow.
Miki-dokkuri Bottle for offering wine to gods.
Mochi A kind of bread made of glutinous rice.
Mon Badge, or crest.
GLOSSARY. 341

Mune Ridge of roof.

Naka-tsubo Middle space.

Nan-do. Store-room. Pantry.
Neda-maruta Cross-beams to support floor.
Nedzumi- Cross-beam at end of building; literally, “rat-post.”
bashira
Nikai-bari Horizontal beam to support second-story floor.
Noren Curtain. Hanging screen.
Nuki A stick passed through mortised holes to bind to-
gether upright posts.
Nuri-yen A verandah unprotected by amado.

Ochi-yen A low platform.

Oshi-ire Closet; literally, “push, put in.”
Otoshi-kake Hanging partition.

Ramma Open ornamental work over the screens which form

the partitions in the house.
Ro Hearth, or fire-place, in the floor.
Ro-ka Corridor. Covered way.

Sake Fermented liquor brewed from rice.

Samisen A guitar with three strings.
Samisen-tsugi A peculiar splice for joining timber.
Samurai Military class privileged to wear two swords.
Sashi-mono-ya Cabinet-maker.
Setsu-in Privy; literally, “snow-hide.”
Shaku A wooden tablet formerly carried by nobles when in
presence of the Emperor.
342 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

Shaku A measure of ten inches. Japanese foot.

Shichirin A brazier for cooking purposes.
Shikii The lower grooved beam in which the door or screens
slide.
Shin-tM The primitive religion of Japan.
Shita-nuri The first layer of plaster.
ShM-ji The outside door-sash covered with thin paper.
Sode-gaki A small ornamental fence adjoining a house.
Sudare A shade made of split bamboo or reeds.
Sugi Cedar.
Sumi-sashi A marking-brush made of wood.
Sumi-tsubo An ink-pot used by carpenters in lieu of the chalk-
line.
Sun One tenth of a Japanese foot.
Sunoko A platform made of bamboo.

Tabako-bon A box or tray in which fire and smoking utensils are

kept.
Tamari-no-ma Anteroom.
Tansu Bureau.
Taruki A rafter of the roof.
Tatami A floor-mat.
Ten-jM Ceiling.
Te-shoku Hand-lamp.
To-bukuro A closet in which outside doors are stowed away.
Tokkuri A bottle.
Toko The floor of the tokonoma.
Toko-bashira The post dividing the two bays or recesses in the
guestroom.
Tokonoma A bay, or recess, where a picture is hung.
Tori-i A portal, or structure of stone or wood, erected in
front of a Shin-tM temple.
Tsubo An area of six feet square.
GLOSSARY. 343

Tsugi-no-ma Second room.

Tsui-tate A screen of one leaf set in a frame.
Tsume-sho. A servant's waiting-room.

Usukasumi- A name for shelf; literally, “thin mist-shelf,”

dana
Uwa-nuri The last layer of plaster.

Watari A passage; literally, “to cross over.”

Yane Roof.
Yane-shita Roof-beams.
Yashiki A lot of ground upon which a house stands. An
enclosure for a Daimio's residence.
Yedo-gawara Yedo tile.
Yen A coin; equals one dollar.
Yen-gawa Verandah.
Yen-riyo Reserve.
Yen-zashiki End-parlor.
YM-ba Privy; literally, “place for business.”
Yoshi A kind of reed.
Yoshi-do A screen made of yoshi.
Yu-dono Bath-room.
Yuka-shita The beams supporting the first floor.
Footnotes
***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK
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364 Japanese Homes and their Surroundings

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