
JAPANESE WRESTLING AND SLEIGHT OF BODY
BY C.L. BROWNELL, MEMBER OF THE JAPAN SOCIETY.
PROFESSOR BURTON AND TAIHO ("BIG GUN").
TAIHO'S HEIGHT, 6FT 4IN; CHEST IN REPOSE, 48½ IN; WEIGHT, 28 STONE 8LBS.
Whoever is in Tokio , the capital of Japan, in January or in May, should go to Eko-in, the temple where the wrestlers meet for their national championship contests. Not only is the sight extraordinarily strange in itself, but it is characteristic to a degree — characteristic of the old Japan that has been disappearing so rapidly during recent years. For this wrestling is the same today as it was twelve centuries ago — or twenty centuries ago, tradition says — and is of interest, therefore, not only to the lover of athletic sports and to globetrotters in search of new sensations, but to the anthropologist as well.
Japanese wrestling differs distinctly from the wrestling of other countries. Perhaps it is indigenous, and to be classed, therefore, with the poetry and the hot baths which Professor Basil Hall Chamberlain says are the only things the Japanese have not appropriated from abroad. It is certainly more exciting than the styles of wrestling in vogue in England or on the Continent, and much more picturesque, while the spectators at the matches show little of the immobility of expression, the dignity, and the reserve we are accustomed to associate with the Japanese.
The wrestlers themselves are huge — of a size one would hardly expect to find among a people physically as small as the natives of the Land of the Rising Sun. The least bulky of the first-class men weighs over twenty stone, while the heaviest, as I remember him, weighed twenty-eight and eight, and likely enough he has put on several stone since I last saw him.
Eko-in is the best place for seeing the wrestling, because it is there that the contestants receive their "marks," or grading, which they will hold until the next championship bouts — that is, during the provincial tours that always follow after the contests at Eko-in. The temple is partly de-pendent for its support upon the receipts of the wrestling exhibitions. It was built, I believe, about the middle of the seventeenth century, on the occasion of the burial of the remains of a great number of the inhabitants of Yedo (the former name of the metropolis), who had lost their lives in a conflagration of extraordinary extent. As it had no special god, or great spirit, of its own, whose worshippers might bring in contributions, it collected money from fairs and from the wrestling matches, and also from the worshippers of departed heroes whose images other temples had lent to Eko-in.
During the ten days of each of the tournaments there is a ring in the centre of the temple quadrangle. A roof, resting on four posts, is over this ring. This is the wrestling booth. The ring itself is somewhat higher than the ground about. It is sanded, and has a border of sixteen rice bags. A bag to the east and a bag to the west are removed when the contests are on. From the eaves of the roof hangs a black, or purple, curtain, two or three feet in width, on which are white, wave-like lines, and on the roof is a shrine to Nomi no Sukune, the patron saint of the wrestler's guild. Tradition says that 1,927 years ago Nomi no Sukune defeated the then champion Tayema in the presence of the Mikado Suinin, who is an ancestor of the present Emperor of Japan, Mutsu Hito. He is supposed to have formulated the rules which are in use today, and to have abolished kicking, which he used himself, however, against Tayema so energetically that his adversary died.
Like everything else in Japan and the Far East generally, each part of the wrestling booth has signification: The circular arena represents primeval chaos (very adequately sometimes when the "elephants" are frolicking there); the entrances to the circle, which are opposite to each other in the relative position of the two brush-dabs which constitute the Chinese character for "2," are "Yang" and "Yin," the male and female principles from which all things evolve; the posts supporting the roof represent the four seasons (the north post is black and represents winter, the east post is blue and represents spring, the south post is red and represents summer, while the west post, in its turn, being white, represents autumn) ; the sixteen bags represent the Eight Diagrams, what-ever those may be. The white waves on the black or purple curtain hanging from the eaves represent self-control and the subjection of passion. This is of small necessity among Japanese wrestlers, however, for their good nature is exceeded only by their size. The spectators for the most part at wrestling matches sit on the ground, where the attendants have spread mats; but at many of the booths there are platforms and tiers of seats and boxes. Eko-in, moreover, has cover overhead. Food and drink in considerable variety are on sale, and those who serve them are agile in getting about without mishap.
The wrestlers are commonly supposed to do their work with forty-eight "devices": twelve thrusts, twelve undergrasps, twelve grips, and twelve twists; but in reality there are about 170 points, or tricks, either of offence or of defence. Most of these are too fine for the ordinary observer to appreciate, however. He prefers the rough and tumble contests of the novices and the dance of the champions in their gorgeous aprons.

THE DANCE OF THE CHAMPION.
The champion comes out every other day. There is always a great display of enthusiasm when he appears. The Japanese call his coming "doyo-iri." First appears the " dew remover," or advance guard of the champion. His title comes from ancient times when noblemen on a journey sent a man ahead to remove every obstacle, even the dew, from the path. The re-mover carries a bow large enough to strike terror to the heart of the most presumptuous dewdrop. Then comes the champion in a loin cloth, wearing a wonderful apron of silk and gold, embroidered with Chinese characters. He takes the bow from the remover, and does a sort of elephant dance, which must give earthquake recorders in the neighbourhood pretty much all they can attend to. There is the sword-bearer in attendance, in remembrance of the fact that the first of the Tokugawa Shoguns, over 250 years ago, presented a sword to the champion of that time. This was the highest military honour possible to confer.
A bout has quite a little ceremony attached to it. The enormous contestants (naked except for a breech clout) enter the ring separately — one from the east, the other from the west — and the umpire makes announcement, pointing at each man with his war fan as he introduces him. This war fan is historical, too. A Mikado named Gotoba gave it to a man named Yoshida in 1190, and it has remained in the Yoshida family ever since. The umpire is always of this family.
When the introduction is over, the wrestlers begin to get ready to go to work. Each takes a little water for a gargle, throws a pinch of salt over his shoulder for luck, kicks high sideways and rocks his body, bringing each foot down. " ker-plunk " several times with the force of a pile-driver. This is to limber up. Then he goes towards the middle of the ring, plants his feet vehemently again five times, bends forward till his spine is horizontal, cocks up his head, and is face to face close up to his antagonist. The attitude of the two men suggests mammoth barnyard fowl ready for a "go." The umpire hovers over them, watching for the moment to give the word; the referees (retired wrestlers), squatting at the posts, are awake, and the bout is just to begin, when one of the wrestlers thinks he will throw a little more salt, and over he goes to his corner for a pinch ; he does some more stretching, returns to the centre of the ring, drives down his feet once more, and again the spectators hold their breath, and one can hear one's neighbour's heart beat.
When the wrestlers are exactly on a par, even as to breathing, the umpire gives the word, and the two irresistible bodies come together. How either of them could possibly be defeated is not easy to understand, but the umpire has soon given a decision, probably just as the spectators are keenest with excitement. Though the bout has not been of more than two minutes' duration, the amount of energy in foot-pounds expended is tremendous. It has been expended in pushing for the most part, as there is little trying for leg holds as a rule, though there are some pretty falls from a leg hold, as the accompanying illustrations show
*. The chief desire in each wrestler's mind is to push his adversary over the edge of the fifteen-foot ring in which the contest takes place. A man does not have to be flat on his back before the umpire calls him "down." Even so little as one of the wrestlers' toes against the narrow ridge of soft earth that marks the border of the circle means defeat. To kneel, or even to touch the ground with the hand, is also a defeat. These rulings make for much shorter bouts than one sees in this country. They are as lively as boxing contests, and often tremendously exciting. The bronze image faces of the spectators turn red ; they call out their favourite's name, and if he does well, they tear off their clothes and throw them into the space about the ring or into the ring itself. The attendant of the wrestler picks them up, identifies each owner in the crowd, and redeems each article for coin of the realm.Eko-in is open for wrestling all day long during each of the ten-day periods. The young men who aspire to become wrestlers appear in the morning to earn their certificate before the officials of the wrestler's guild. The first-class men appear every other day, and between times come the men who are trying for first-class honours. There are about 600 professionals altogether, over 400 of whom belong to Tokio. They are divided into two groups — east and west — and each group has its champion. The best six on each side wear the gorgeous aprons, one of which is seen in the illustration on p. 93. The champion of champions is known as Yoko-zuna, and the champions of the east and west are known as O-zeki.
Japanese wrestlers train for bulk, and, so far as is known, abstinence does not enter into the regimen. If they do abstain from anything, that thing must be — as Mark Twain said — total abstinence itself. I remember some wrestlers dining aboard a man-of-war — an officer with much enthusiasm for athletics had invited them to " break-fast." The steward started to pass round a dish of chicken croquettes, but he did not go far with them, as guest No. I took, them all. Fourteen bowls of rice at a meal sounds large, but at a private banquet to a member of Parliament, at which wrestlers gave an exhibition, the champion took that quantity of rice to " top off " with. Rice always comes at the end of a Japanese feast. Sometimes globe-trotters have sought to ascertain the capacity of wrestlers in the way of " pegs " and that sort of thing, but though the globe-trotters exerted themselves strenuously and in relays, the wrestler's limit was never within hailing distance, while, as regards the experimenters, the results were disastrous.
At one of the entertainment's given in Tokio in 1899 in honour of Mr. Arthur Diosy, F.R.G.S., the founder of the Japan Society of London, and at present Chairman of its Council, one of the wrestlers raised a goban, or Japanese chequer-board, from the floor at arm's length, holding it on the palm of one hand. (A goban is some four or five inches thick and two feet square, and is of exceptionally heavy wood.) He then had one of the dancing girls stand on the goban, and repeated the performance. Then he grasped the guest of the evening firmly by the ankles, and lifted him perpendicularly. Finally, to show that the wrestler is strong all over, he hung a bit of twine over one ear, giving the ends of the twine to Mr. Diosy, whom certainly no one would characterise as in any way a weak man. Mr. Diosy pulled hard — so hard that he feared the ear might come off — but the man of muscle said, "Pull harder"; and then, "As hard as ever you can." When the wrestler saw that his distinguished opponent in the pulling match was straining to his utmost, he began to "side step," drawing the Chairman of the Council with him with little apparent effort.
The wrestlers are not of any particular clan, or tribe, or family, nor are they the outcome of a special breeding system, as some globetrotters declare. They come, for the most part, from the seacoast or from the mountains, which is not remarkable when one remembers that Japan is almost entirely one or the other. Few of them are city bred; they began as lusty lads eager to earn more than they could ever hope to by fishing for someone else on the treacherous island coast, or cultivating minute patches of ground which rest almost on edge on the mountain sides. With this desire for financial advancement they apprenticed themselves to members of the wrestling guild, and butted their way up, grade by grade, until they became seki-tori (place-holders).
Wages increase from nothing at all in the be-ginning of the apprenticeship up to about I2S. a day in tourney time for the first-class men. The management finds them in food and drink besides, and they receive many times their salary in the form of presents from their admirers. They are in demand at entertainment's even among the aristocracy, when they dance in the ancient manner of their guild, and obliterate comestibles in a way that is ever marvellous. Taking it all in all the successful Japanese wrestler has what the Americans call a "cinch."

A CRITICAL MOMENT.
Another art of defence in Japan which is in high favour is Jujutsu, or Judo in Chinese (as the Japanese pronounce it), or Yawara, in the native tongue. The word has received various translations. A man who lectured on it at the Japan Society in London some years ago called it "sleight of body," using sleight in the sense it has in the expression "sleight of hand." Captain Frank Brinkley, in his excellent Japanese-English dictionary, defines it as a kind of wrestling in which dexterity or trick plays a more important part than physical strength.
From what I have seen of it, on the east and the west coasts of Japan, on the Pacific slope in the States, where Japanese are numerous, at exhibitions given in England, and from what I have been able to gather in discussing it with the natives who have gone in for it hard, I should say it was a highly philosophic form of rough and tumble fighting. Certainly moral maxims abound in the schools where Jujutsu is taught, and much ethical culture is imbibed along with instructions as to how best to break a man's arm or wring his neck, or put his heart quite out of working order.
It is not what the Japanese call Sumo, and translate into English as wrestling, for it contravenes nearly every Sumo rule. Sumo calls for weight, whereas weight would only hamper the judo artist. Sumo also demands muscle, but the judo men say that muscle is almost as much a drawback as adipose tissue. In Sumo, furthermore, if a man touches the ground with anything but his feet — even by his little finger — he is out; but in judo he may roll about or lie flat on his face or his back and not be "out," so long as he is capable of movement. He may kick, strike below the belt, bend joints the wrong way, throttle, and do many other things that the Sumo laws forbid.
The really able judo-ist lets the other man do all the work. He does not attack, but by skilful yielding allows his opponent to bring about his own downfall. For instance, a certain noble, the story goes, was endeavouring, with a great assumption of innocence, to push a fellow-traveller to the edge of a narrow mountain road which was coincident with the brink of a precipice several hundred feet in height. The fellow-traveller was an instructor in judo, and quite as innocent in his manner as the noble. Just as the edge of the cliff was reached, the noble found himself hanging over it and the judo instructor clinging to the tail of his kimono, expostulating the meanwhile that one should be careful at this point of the road, as the distance to the bottom of the cliff was too great for a noble to reach it head foremost without liability to discomposure. The nobleman afterwards stated that it was dangerous to push against a man standing on the edge of a cliff if he was not there.
Captain Brinkley, in his "Japan — its History, Arts, and Literature," says: "A skilled wrestler of great thews fares worse than a simple tyro at the hands of a Jujutsu expert. The science starts from the mathematical principle that the stability of a body is destroyed so soon as the vertical line passing through its centre of gravity falls outside its base. To achieve disturbance of equilibrium in accordance with that principle, the Jujutsu player may throw himself on the ground by way of preliminary of throwing his opponent, a sequence of proceedings that would of course be suicidal in wrestling. In fact, to know how to fall is as essential a part of his science as to know how to throw. Checking, disabling by blows delivered in special parts of the body, paralysing an opponent's limb by applying a 'breaking moment' to it — all these are branches of the science. These principles may be seen strikingly illustrated in any of the schools in Tokio, where weak striplings not yet out of their teens easily gain the mastery over stalwart men."
Professor Kano has two large free schools for Jujutsu in Tokio, in both of which Mr. T. Shidachi, of the Bank of Japan in Tokio, and a judo enthusiast, studied the art. He says: "Respect and kindness, fidelity and sincerity, are essential points which judo students should particularly observe. We come by daily training to know that irritability is one of our weakest points, and that we have to try to avoid it in our life, as it facilitates our opponent's efforts to overcome us. Not to be irritated by any emergency, but to be always calm and composed, is one of the first principles of judo. Prudence, precaution, temperance, perseverance, presence of mind, quick discernment, decision after deliberation, self-respect, and self-control — all these are moral qualities inculcated by the study of judo."
These remarks apply to athletic contests in general, but in Japan folk take them with more seriousness. Before entering one of the Kano schools, for instance, each pupil takes an oath to obey the rules implicitly. He then goes through their preliminary classes, when he is ready for the ten stages; the first six for physical development, and the remainder for moral discipline. The course occupies ten years.
In contests between judo-ists and Sumo-ists the judo-ists have to conform to Sumo rules to some extent, and so have no great advantage.

DOWN! AND UP GOES THE UMPIRE'S WAR FAN.
* From photographs by my friend, the late Wm. Kinnimond Burton, Professor of Sanitary Engineering in the Imperial University in Tokio. The photographs were taken in Professor Burton's garden
.
Source: "The Sports of the World. with Illustrations from Drawings and Photographs. (Vol. 1)" Edited by F.G. Aflslo c1930's