1904-1905. AGE 16-17
Something hidden. Go and find it. Go and look behind the Ranges―
Something lost behind the Ranges.
Lost and waiting for you. Go!
―R. KIPLING
THE WAR between Japan and Russia was still in progress when, in the summer of 1904, Borden set out on a journey round the world. He had graduated from The Hill at sixteen, and his parents felt that a year spent in this way would be well worth while before he entered college. It was no small responsibility Mr. Walter Erdman had undertaken in consenting to travel with him. Scholarly, brilliant, full of humor, recently graduated from Princeton University and Seminary, a more delightful companion could hardly have been found, but his chief recommendation in Mr. and Mrs. Borden’s eyes lay in his fine Christian character.
“I remember our talks about William down in the pine grove at Camden,” he wrote years later, “when you were wondering what sort of companion I should make for him, and I was wondering how I could measure up to your ideals.”
He remembered also Mr. Borden’s helpfulness when seeing them off from Chicago. Partly in boyish bravado, William prolonged his farewells, swinging on to the train when it was already in motion.
“William,” called his father sharply, “don’t do things like that! It isn’t fair to Mr. Erdman.”
“It was a word of caution that was not forgotten,” wrote be latter, “save possibly on two occasions―once when he was clambering over the fortifications of the old castle at Ajmere, and once when his familiarity with nautical matters and the management of a yacht tempted him to climb thoughtlessly on the rail and swing from the halliards of an ocean liner. The Captain administered a sharp rebuke on that occasion. William called him ‘an old stiff’ in private―but he came down.
“It was inevitable that a boy of his physical endowments and active disposition should be on the whole more interested in doing than in seeing things, and one (Ides not wonder that he was more enthusiastic over a swim in the phosphorescent sea before the shrine at Kamakura than in studying the wonderful lines and graceful bulk of its great bronze Buddha. He remonstrated with me a little for being willing to see it twice! One might have supposed that so active and independent a nature would be impatient of advice or restraint. Yet, excepting the occasions mentioned, his activity never gave cause for concern, and there was no time when he failed to accept suggestions or recognize the force of another’s judgment.”
It was a September day when the S.S. “Korea” put out from San Francisco. Fog hung over the Golden Gate, and the departure seemed a small affair compared with the outgoing of the transatlantic liners from New York. What Borden thought of it all may be seen from his unstudied letters:
Sept. 20, 1904
DEAREST MOTHER―We are off at last, and so far it seems quite nice, although in some respects a little speck disappointing.
We went down to the wharf quite early and our bags were taken up to the room by a lot of little Chinamen dressed in dark blue with a round black hat with a red topknot to it. They were certainly very funny and cute. Most of them take the end of their queue and put it in their coat pocket. Our steward it a very nice Chinaman dressed like the ones I have just described.
The scene at the dock was quite queer, very different from the departure of an Atlantic steamer. Chinamen swarmed everywhere, and there were also a good many Japs mixed in. All the servants and sailors are Chinamen and they seem to be very competent. Some of them are comical in their appearance and actions and I enjoy watching them, especially the sailors about their work.
Our fellow passengers are mostly married people, in fact there aren’t more than half a dozen young folk that I have noticed. The Chinamen are by far the most interesting bunch. There is an open space between the promenade deck and the poop where they congregate―fat, thin, old and young, some with gray queues and others with black. I watched them eating this afternoon with their chopsticks. About ten of them squatted around one pot of rice and a pot of some sort of meat. Each man had a little tin pan which he filled with rice. They ate by holding the pan up to the mouth and then shoving in the rice with their chopsticks, which they held in one hand. They picked up pieces of meat with their chopsticks and smeared them round in a common bowl of gravy. Several of these groups were scattered over the deck and it made a very queer spectacle.
Sept. 21, 1904
DEAR MOTHER―Today we have gotten pretty well settled and have had a chance to look around a bit. Our chairs are located on the port side, near the forward end of the promenade deck. Our neighbors are a couple of young men starting out as missionaries. They are Jones and Gibb, and were on the train with us coming out to San Francisco.
Then there is a Mr. Lamb and his wife and little boy. Mr. Lamb is a classmate of Walter’s, and he and his wife are going to the Philippines as missionaries. They are very nice and awfully jolly. Mr. Lamb and I got permission from the chief engineer and went all through the engine room. One of the assistants showed us over and explained everything. He also took us into the stoking rooms of which there are five or six. It wasn’t nearly as hot as I expected, in fact I don’t believe it troubled the stokers at all. The stokers are Chinese and they work for seven dollars a month, rather small wages, isn’t it?
Whenever they get hungry, they haul out a few coals, build a fire right on the floor and cook themselves some chow. It seems that there are a lot of Chinese on board who travel back and forth just to gamble. They certainly do it with a vengeance. Today revealed five or six new games, and they were busy playing most of the day.
The color of the water out here as it surges away from the ship is remarkable. It is a deep indigo blue and doesn’t seem to be affected by the color of the sky.
A day at Honolulu, where the water was like melted opals in coloring and clear as crystal, was welcome. Native boys, eager to dive for money, swam out to meet the ship, some of whom, scrambling on board, took off even from boats on the hurricane deck. The Aquarium with its rainbow-colored fish, bathing, surf-riding, and a drive to various points of interest made the time pass quickly, until a fresh contingent of passengers came on board, wearing wreaths of flowers after the custom of the island, and the journey was resumed toward the setting sun.
Tuesday, Oct. 4, 1904
DEAR UNCLE FRED AND AUNT LAURA―I received the Round Robin to which you contributed so much and thank you very much for it. I often wish to be sailing (yachting) out here, where the trades blow steadily and the sea is comparatively smooth.
Going round the world may be quite a trip, but it isn’t anything uncommon among these passengers. There are three or four who are on their fourth trip around, and several on their third and second. So we sink into insignificance. We have a couple of German and Austrian Counts and Countesses, an Italian doctor and also several German university men, one with scars on his cheek. Then there is an Admiral of the U. S. Navy and a Bishop. So you see we have quite a few celebrities.
We have only seen the smoke of one boat since we left San Francisco. The Pacific is quite large. With love.―Your nephew,
WILLIAM W. BORDEN
His respect for the Pacific was further increased by encountering a typhoon before they reached japan, as we learn from his journal:
Strong breeze from the southeast and fairly big sea running. Lifelines put up on the lower deck and all awnings taken down. Wind developed to a gale in the afternoon. Hove to about seven and rode typhoon during the night.
Rained hard early in the morning with the wind still blowing a gale. Engines started and kept at half speed from 5:30 A.M. to 4:30 P.M. Shipped big seas over the prow. Sea quieted down in the afternoon and full speed was put on.
Next day they were in Yokohama.
Japan was not the fascinating vision it would have been had they visited it in spring, when the cherry and wisteria are in bloom. Fall colors touched the hills with beauty, but it was more the people than the country that appealed to Borden.
Fifty years only had elapsed since Commodore Perry had effected, in 1853-4, the introduction of the Island Kingdom into the family of nations, and only thirty years since the famous Iwakura Commission had been sent out “to survey the world and cull its best for the future development of Japan,” but what hadn’t that brief period witnessed of progress along the lines of national education, representative government and facility of communication! Hundreds of miles of railway connected all the important cities of the main island, where previously there had been none. Schools, colleges and universities had sprung up in which tens of thousands were pursuing an up-to-date curriculum, and to the worship of the imperial line which had occupied the throne for more than two thousand years had been added modern parliamentary government, with a constitution granting liberty hitherto undreamed of in oriental lands.
Side by side with all this had gone territorial expansion and increase of prestige and population. The war with China concluded ten years previously had brought Formosa under the sovereignty of Japan; and the war with Russia still in progress had raised her to the first rank among naval and military powers. So it was a new Japan to which our travelers came, and yet the old was everywhere present, and the mingling of East and West was almost bewildering. In the fine station at Yokohama, for example, the clatter of wooden clogs on the pavement was deafening, and in the narrow oriental streets it was alarming to see children playing almost under the wheels of modern vehicles. One of his first letters was to his younger sister:
IMPERIAL HOTEL, TOKYO,
October 13, 1904
DEAR, DEAR JOYCE―I wish you were here to enjoy all the funny little people with their queer ways and dress. I know you would have a beautiful time. But as you can’t see them, I will try and tell you about them.
I never saw so many children before as there are here in japan. They seem to be everywhere, in groups of four or five and sometimes more, playing in the streets. None of the boys and girls that run around wear any socks, but they all wear queer little wooden clogs which they hold on with the big toe and the next one. I should think that they would keep coming off all the time, but they never do. The little girls all wear kimonos, something like Mary’s only much prettier, some of them being all gold and red and purple. As soon as their hair is long enough, they do it up in a queer little bunch on top of their head just like their mothers. None of the girls or women wears any kind of hat, as it would muss their hair all up.
The boys wear the same kind of shoes and kimonos as the girls but their hair is fixed different. It is clipped quite short, in a ring all round the head. Then right on top a little round spot is shaved to make it look nice. The boys, or at least a good many of them, wear little soldier hats and look very cute.
Girls littler than you go around playing with a tiny little baby tied on their back. The baby hangs there in warm weather with its little bare feet hanging down and in cold weather is all bundled up so that you can only see the top of its head. The baby sleeps whenever it feels like it, and the little girl goes right on playing just the same. Do you think you could sleep while I was running around with you on my back? I don’t. All the boys and girls seem very good. It is rare to see one crying unless it is very young or has been hurt. They haven’t any toys to speak of, although there are plenty in the stores, yet they seem very happy and have a good time.
The newspaper men, not boys, go running through the streets shouting the news, with bells jangling at their waists to attract attention. They are mostly extras that are sold in this way, and the paper itself is about the size of this sheet I am writing on.
When it rains the people all carry big paper umbrellas, some of them very pretty. Some of the men have big straw hats instead of umbrellas, and sometimes a whole suit, or long coat, made out of this rice-straw. I shouldn’t think it would be very dry or comfortable, but they wear them anyway.
With lots and lots of love,
WILLIAM
Their first railway journey was a short one, south from Yokohama to the shrines of Kamakura, about which he wrote to his mother:
October 9, 1904
At the station we took rickshaws and went first to see the Dai Butsu... We approached the statue by a stone walk through a very pretty garden, only there wasn’t a bit of grass. On account of the trees we couldn’t see the statue until quite close to it. It is a very impressive and remarkable piece of work considering it dates from A.D. 1243. Around the image foundation stones may be seen in the ground. These supported the temple that once covered the statue. It has been gone a long time, as a result of tidal waves....
From the Dai Butsu we went to another Buddhist temple on the top of a hill overlooking the sea. This was the temple of the Goddess of Mercy, and there were many small idols round the walls. One of them was all stuck-up with pieces of paper. These are prayers, and a string of them hangs near by to which the worshipper helps himself. After chewing it a while, he throws it―if it sticks, the prayers are answered; otherwise not.
Tokyo, the capital, and beautiful Nikko in the mountains north of it, were no disappointment. Through the kindness of a Japanese friend, they were permitted to drive through the grounds of the Palace, seeing something of the surroundings of the Mikado who was the hundred and twenty-second representative of his imperial line. No other dynasty in the world approaches such a record, and it was easy to understand the passionate loyalty of the people to a family which they believe to have been descended from the gods and which has given them such a succession of almost uniformly good rulers.
Parliamentary government had existed for only fifteen years― “a time, no doubt, of many thrills on the part of the people, far and near, who for the first time in the nation’s history were taking part in the administration of national affairs.”
NIKKO, Oct. 16, 1904
DEAR MOTHER―At present we are at Nikko, a beautiful spot up in the mountains. In the valley is a very pretty little stream and the mountains are covered with maples which are just beginning to change their color. Well, I must go back and tell you what we did in Tokyo.
Last Wednesday we were shown through the Houses of Parliament by a very nice Jap. He took us into all the various offices and we saw the pictures of several presidents, etc. The room in which the Representatives meet is simple and not unusual. The House of Peers is much more gorgeous, especially the Mikado’s office room. This is beautifully fitted out with gold-lacquer screens and a cloth of gold over the desk. The Imperial box also is very fine with such things as silks and gold lace, etc...
Friday we had a very interesting time. In the morning we went to the school where Mr. Hatta teaches and then went to call on a Japanese lady, Mrs. Fuki O. Kami. Her house was in the suburbs of the city in a pretty little compound. After walking through the garden we came to a very nice house with sliding walls made of rice paper. The maid greeted us on her knees and bumped her head on the floor at nearly every word. While we waited we were served tea and were then informed by Mr. Hatta that we were to be received at another house, as Mrs. Kami wished to treat us as very distinguished visitors. So we walked a short distance to another cute little house and after removing our shoes went in.
Walt had known Mrs. Kami in America, so we took the liberty of asking to be allowed to sit Japanese style instead of in the chairs offered to us. After we had talked a while (Mrs. Kami speaks very good English) the maid came on her knees pushing a tray with tea before her. There were also some small green and pink rice cakes which we had some difficulty in picking up with chopsticks, but which were really very good. We were informed that Mrs. O. Kami was quite rich, and that probably accounts for her two houses and also for the gown she had on. It was a kimono with very long sleeves. The cloth was a mixture of brown silk and old gold and it was simply stunning....
In company with Mr. O. Kami they went to see some war pictures.
We arrived at the theater and checked our shoes, as everyone here does instead of leaving their hats and coats. The floor of the theater was divided into little squares, about four feet each way, and in one of these we squatted. Between the pictures, tea and cigarettes flourished on all sides. The pictures themselves weren’t anything special and we found the people more interesting.
A visit to the hospital enabled them to realize something of what the war was costing day by day.
We met two officers, both of whom had been fearfully wounded while fighting at Port Arthur. The first one, who spoke English very well, told us a little about it. He said they were so close to the Russians that they could hear one another talking and could throw stones across. Everything was very neat, clean and comfortable. The nurses looked nice in their white uniforms and high caps. We distributed flowers and books and towels which are appropriate Japanese gifts.
Of their journey westward to the former capital of the islands, lovely Kyoto, he tells in more than one letter. For they stopped by the way to obtain near views of Fujiyama, to enjoy the hot springs of a remote valley, and to climb passes from which the clouds lifted giving glimpses of the sacred mountain. After one climb, “We had a hot sulfur bath,” he wrote, “which was simply great! The Japanese tubs are made of wood and are about three feet deep and oblong in shape. Instead of climbing into them you step down. I think they are fine, and enjoy boiling in them up to my neck! I am afraid they will spoil me for any others.”
To reach Nagoya they had to travel part of the way on a manpower railroad.
The car we got into was a perfect cube, measuring about five feet on a side. It was meant to seat four, but at various stages on the journey we had a number of fellow-passengers. Three coolies pushed us slowly up the hill and then jumped on while we coasted down at a terrific rate. Just why the car stayed on the track going round sharp curves I cannot tell, but it did, and that’s the main point.
Kyoto palaces, gardens, temples and shops were of the finest, but they found, as Dr. Charles Erdman wrote on his later visit, that “It is a city ‘wholly given to idolatry.’ Of course one will enjoy a visit to the grounds and buildings of the Mikado’s palace; he will struggle against the temptation to bankrupt himself in the shops, which are the most attractive in the land, but his real concern in Kyoto will be with its countless temples. We rambled through acres of these, carefully depositing our shoes outside in the rain and walking in cloth slippers over vast expanses of polished floors and becoming more and more depressed by realizing the familiar fact that a proud modern empire, one of the five great powers of the world, is in the deadening grasp of false religions and degrading cults.”
Of one of the temples at Kyoto Borden wrote:
November 5, 1904
The most interesting temple we visited was the Sangusan-guido or Temple of the 33,333 gods. The building that contains this outfit is a shabby-looking place about four hundred feet long by sixty wide. The images all represent the same goddess, Kivanna, Goddess of Mercy. They are made of wood and gilded. Right opposite the entrance is. a huge image said to be carved out of one willow tree. On either side are five hundred idols, each about five feet high. They are arranged in ten rows of fifty, each row rising above the one in front of it. The images are meant to represent the eleven-faced-thousand-handed Goddess of Mercy, but they only have one face and twenty-one pairs of hands. I suppose it would have been too much work to make them all. The 33,333 are obtained by counting the small effigies held in the hands and in the haloes of the large ones. It is a very strange sight.
In the midst of all he was seeing and doing, these were the things that went deepest. There is one picturesque letter on Japanese paper, six inches wide and seven feet long, in which he gives a detailed account of a display of national wrestling at Osaka, which they watched for hours. But there is another letter, written to his mother, that shows what his first contact with heathenism was meaning in his own life. He had been less than a month in Japan when he wrote:
KYOTO, November 3, 1904
I have received your birthday note with all the others, which was a very pleasant surprise. Your request that I pray to God for His very best plan for my life is not a hard thing to do, for I have been praying that very thing for a long time. Although I have never thought very seriously about being a missionary until lately, I was somewhat interested in that line as you knows. I think this trip is going to be a great help in showing things to me in a new light. I can’t explain what my views were, but I met such pleasant young people on the steamer who were going out as missionaries, and meeting them influenced me...
Walt has so many friends here whom we meet in nearly every city that I have seen a great deal of the work that is being done. While talking with them we learn of the work and the opportunities, etc., so that I realize things as I never did before. When I look ahead a few years it seems as though the only thing to do is to prepare for the foreign field. Of course, I want a college course and then perhaps some medical study, and certainly Bible study, at Moody Institute perhaps.
I may be a little premature, but I am beginning to think a little different. I don’t know what you will think of this, but anyway I know you can help me.
With lots of love,
WILLIAM