As we were losing one hour in each fifteen degrees of our course, or, to state it perhaps more clearly, in each thousand miles of progress westward, when half round the world from Greenwich twelve hours would be lost. It is therefore customary to drop a day in mid-ocean, which we did on crossing the hundred and eightieth degree of longitude west and east of Greenwich. When the traveler shall have reached Greenwich again on this course, the remaining twelve hours will be exhausted, and his time will agree with that of the starting-point. During the voyage two of the Chinese passengers died, and were embalmed by the surgeon of the ship. It is a conviction of these people that their soul cannot rest in peace unless their ashes be buried in their native land. When a Chinaman dies in a foreign country, sooner or later his remains are carried home for interment. If only the bones are left, they are finally dug up and thus disposed of by surviving friends. This sort of cargo has formed no small source of profit to ships sailing west from San Francisco, bones and bodies being shipped like merchandise.
As we crept slowly at half speed into the harbor of Yokohama, among the merchant shipping, surrounded by a myriad of little shore-boats, steering in and out through the Russian, English, and Japanese men-of-war, the twilight was gradually approaching; and when we rounded to, three hundred yards from the shore, under the lee of the United States sloop-of-war Richmond and let go our anchor, she fired her evening gun. At the same moment her band, in recognition of the flag that floated from our topmast head, as we carried the American mail, poured forth the strains of the "Star-Spangled Banner" with a thrilling spirit which caused a quick and hearty cheer fore and aft the Belgic. Perhaps it is necessary for one to be thousands of miles from home, and to have just arrived in a foreign port from a long sea voyage, to fully appreciate this little incident.
CHAPTER II.
Landing in Japan.—Characteristic Street Scenes.—Native Bazars.—Women of Yokohama.—Excursion into the Country.—Visit to Kamakura.—Peculiar Scenes on the Road.—A Wonderful Bronze Statue.—Popular Religions of the Country.—The Hakone Pass.—A Youthful Mother.—Native Jugglers.—Temple of Shiba.—Review of the Soldiery.—Ludicrous Sights.—A Native Fair at Tokio.—A Poor Japanese Woman's Prayer.
Passengers arriving at Yokohama are obliged to land in small boats, as there are no wharfs; and vessels, on account of shallow water, anchor half a mile off shore. A small steam-tug came for us, and we found very comfortable quarters at the Windsor Hotel, kept by an American—a large, well-organized establishment. The housemaids were little Japanese men dressed in black tights, but very quick, intelligent, and desirous to please. The servants all spoke English; indeed it is the commercial language of the world, and there are few ports open to commerce where it does not form the basis of all business transactions. French is the polite or court language of many countries, and with these two tongues at command, one can get along easily in nearly any populous region of the globe.
When Commodore Perry, in 1854, cast anchor with his little fleet of American men-of-war in the harbor of Yokohama, it was scarcely more than a fishing village, but the population to-day must exceed a hundred and thirty thousand. The space formerly covered by rice fields and vegetable gardens is now laid out in well-built, wide thoroughfares, smoothly macadamized and faultlessly clean and neat. The town extends along the shore, which is level, but is backed by a half-moon of low, well-wooded hills, among which are the private dwellings of the foreign residents, built after the European style, on the location known as the Bluff. The two principal hotels, the club-houses, and some consular business residences, are located on the water-front, a wide thoroughfare known as the Bund. A deep, broad canal surrounds the city, passing by the large warehouses and connecting with the bay at each end, is crossed in its course by half a dozen handsome bridges.
Ascending the bluff one gets a fine and extended view, embracing the city on one side and Jeddo Bay on the other, with a foreground composed of the harbor of Yokohama, where more or less shipping, representing foreign nations, is always to be seen. In the distant west, over seventy miles away, the white, cloud-like cone of Fujiyama can be clearly discerned, while close at hand are the charming, villa-like residences of the European settlers. Towards Mississippi Bay, as it is called, numerous native gardens are to be seen, with cultivated fields of millet, cotton, rice, and buckwheat. On getting nearer to them, one discovers sweet potatoes, egg-plants, and a queer vegetable called the daicum, of which great use is made by the people. It resembles an elongated turnip, is about as large round as one's wrist, and milk white. On the path leading round the base of the bluff were many pretty wild-flowers, among which the blooming trefoil and the harebell were seen intermingled with a large and handsome species of daisy. The starwort, a great favorite with the Japanese, was met in abundance. It will be remembered that this flower forms part of the Mikado's arms. It was November, but the winter sleep of the flowers is brief here, and there are said to be no days in the year when a pretty bouquet may not be gathered in the open air. Ferns burst forth in abundance about the bluff, and so great is the variety, that of this special plant, one is constantly tempted to form a collection. Here and there among the undergrowth were patches of soft, pea-green moss, of a velvety texture, that no cunning of the loom can equal.
There is a smart, business-like aspect to everything in Yokohama; the impression upon the stranger is that he is in a wide-awake community. The first business of a traveler upon arriving in a new country is not to look up its history, nor to study its geography or political economy. He should be at least grounded in these already; he follows his natural instincts, guided by curiosity, shrewdly watching the out-door life about him, the dress of the people, the architecture of the houses, modes of conveyance, mechanical operations, the fruits, flowers, and shop-windows, and especially the manners of the women, their status as it regards treatment, occupation, and the respect accorded to them. Nothing is so sure a keynote or test of civilization and progress as this. We do not look to see women receive, even in Europe, much less in the East, such chivalric deference and respect as are shown to them in America, but the nearer any people imitate us in this respect, the more advanced will they be found in the other refined amenities of social life.
In this commercial capital of Japan everything struck us as curious, every fresh step afforded increased novelty, every new sight was a revelation, while all about us were tangible representations of the impossible pictures of the cheap fans, the lacquered ware of commerce, and the school books. The partial nudity of men, women, and children, the extremely simple architecture of the dwelling-houses, the vegetation, the extraordinary salutations between the common people who met each other upon the streets, the trading booths or bazars, and the queer, toy-like articles which filled them, children flying kites in the shape of hideous yellow monsters, each subject became a fresh study. Men propelling vehicles like horses between the shafts, and trotting off at a six-mile pony gait while drawing after them