Crime and Punishment in the Edo Period
 
Many, many moons ago I read a book by Mark Schreiber titled `The Dark Side: Infamous Japanese Crimes and Criminals` which was, as the title plainly stated, about the subject of people in Japanese history (from around the Edo period through to the late Showa/early Heisei era – i.e., late 1980s – early 1990s) who had committed some fairly heinous crimes and the type of punishments that they were subjected to. One thing in particular that struck me was a short chapter regarding the Edo execution grounds of Kozukappara (now found in Minami Senjū 2 Chōme, Arakawa ward of the Tokyo municipal area). Mark Schreiber`s description of this area at the time of its founding (around 1651) vividly captured its horrible nature, for in its early manifestation it was common for the bodies of executed criminals to be left where they fell. Their heads were put on display, thus serving as a warning for any travellers coming into Edo along the Tokaidō that this was the type of punishment lawbreakers could expect if they misbehaved in the shogun`s capital. Of course, executing hundreds of criminals over the course of year meant that there were a lot of corpses lying about, and with the coming of summer Kozukappara would become infamous for its horrendous stench and the plague of insects that infested the area.
 
Eventually a temple was erected nearby (in 1667) in order to provide a place in which to bury the bodies of the recently executed along with their heads. It would perform this role for the next two hundred years until the execution grounds were finally abolished in the early Meiji period (around 1870).
 
Now why have I gone into all this detail about such a horrible subject? I recently bought a book written by Ujiie Mikito titled `Crime and Punishment in the Edo Period` (published by Soshisha) which details how the trial system of the Edo period worked, and how authorities gradually began to eliminate the more gruesome punishments that were left over from the Sengoku period to embrace a more `humane` system of punishments (by humane, this is of course according to the standards of the time). Clearly there were major issues with the idea of `have the punishment fit the crime` as even minor transgressions could end up in with a death sentence, not to mention the prevalence of `tsujigiri` (a practice that was both sanctioned and outlawed during the course of the Edo period. Basically it allowed members of the samurai class to execute a person without recourse to magistrates. Instant justice, if you will).
 
The subject of crime and punishment of the Edo era has been dealt with in English within academic studies, however I thought that pursuing this subject in a more accessible format (i.e., a blog) might be more useful, or at least serve as an introduction to the subject. The first chapter of Ujiie`s book alone gives a good indication that it will be both a fascinating read and one that will educate the general public on the path of criminal punishments as practised in early modern Japan.  The first chapter is translated as below (and in subsequent posts).
 
Crime and Punishment in the Edo Period
 
Suzuki Shōsan criticizes the practice of `tsujigiri`
 
We shall begin by discussing Suzuki Shōsan.
 
After being involved in the Osaka campaign as one of the many samurai in the Tokugawa army, Suzuki Shōsan (1579-1655), who adopted that name after becoming a monk, was not only well known as an author of religious texts in the early Edo period but is famous in the history of Japanese literature as author of works such as the `Ni nin bi kuni` and the `Inka monogatari` which were written in kana cursive script. (pg.12)
 
Shōsan`s ideals have already been debated at length by other scholars along with his literary works (one such study is Miura Masahiko`s `Collected Studies of Suzuki Shōsan` etc). So I don`t intend to introduce either Shōsan`s standing in the history of literature or his individual works. (pg.12)
 
So why Shōsan? The reason is that the words in Shōsan`s theories (one could also call them sermons), which were opposed to just how lightly warriors could take the lives of others, allow one to feel just how painful it was to live during his times. Of course one should not take a life without a second thought, yet it appears that this idea had not really penetrated the world of the samurai at the time. (pg.12)
 
Shōsan`s acolyte Echū, who wrote a compilation of Shōsan`s sayings titled `Roankyō` (published 1660), posited the following `Montō` (a Zen inspired question and answer session):
紀州二某シト云強者アリ、国中二聞エタル人切ニテ、内ノ者トモ二手モ不見少ノ事モ不許切ナリ、此人一日我所二来リ、某シハカクレナキ人切也、是悪業トヤ成ベキト云
 
If we continued to quote from this piece, most readers would very soon tire of it. So we`ll stop the quote at this point and translate the rest as follows. (pg.13)
 
“Warriors from the province of Kii were well known for their execution of people. If a person committed even the most minor error while serving in a warrior`s house, they would be cut down without a word. One day a warrior called upon me (Shōsan), and the two of us had the following conversation.
 
Warrior: I am a well renowned executioner (literally `people cutter`). You will have heard of my bad reputation.
 
Shōsan: No, not really. The people you execute are thieves or rogues. But you shouldn`t kill the innocent.
 
Warrior: Well that is true…
 
Shōsan: Are there others who are rogues, not just in your own household but among your colleagues as well?
 
Warrior: There are.
 
Shōsan: Would you kill them?
 
Warrior: No I wouldn`t.
 
Shōsan: Well then. It is the very height of folly to only kill those innocents who serve your lord while ignoring those rogues among your colleagues and from other places as well.” (pgs.13-14)

This particular post has been a long time coming. Sure, I could keep trying to update it on a week to week basis, but with little to say that other blogs, particularly blogs that are able to comment on events as they happen, have already explained in detail, to follow these up seems a little redundant. So at the risk of losing followers, I am going back to what I started this blog for in the first place, as a outlet for my observations of pre-modern Japan and its various unique traditions. As part of that process, I am once again looking at Shimizu Katsuyuki`s 「大飢饉、室町社会を襲う！」, which I introduced in a previous blog post.  This book examines the effects of natural and other disasters on people of the Muromachi period, and how they responded to such dangers and calamities. The particular translation included below comes from the final chapter, that dealing with the coming of Spring, which for the people of the era was a period of hardship before Summer brought with it the promise of more produce. As it was in Europe so was it in Japan. With the passing of Winter all of the food stocks remaining in villages across the nation would have been exhausted, and thus a number of weeks had to be endured with little to nothing to eat, thus bringing on a ravenous, desperate level of hunger that could not be satiated.
 
The climax of the great famine
 
Many people of the Middle Ages period died with the coming of Spring. Tamura Noriyoshi shed light on this phenomenon using the Kakochō records (this was a book that recorded the year, month, and day of death, along with the posthumous name of the deceased)  of the Nichiren-sect affiliated Hondoji located in Matsudo City in Chiba Prefecture. According to Tamura, for those people of the Middle Ages who weren`t able to harvest enough produce during Autumn, they would engage in planting, suppress their appetite, and try to stay alive until the following year. Yet unable to wait until the wheat harvest at the beginning of Summer, when Spring came these people began to die one by one.  During the Middle Ages period, even if a famine was not in progress, in the period between the harvesting of rice (in Autumn) and the harvesting of wheat (at the beginning of Summer) there were an extraordinarily large number of deaths stemming from either starvation or else from disease that often accompanied the weakening of the immune system from malnutrition. The Middle Ages certainly played host to cruel famines (p.170)    
 
As we see from the origins of the great famine of the Ōei period, the real tragedy did not start following the harvest season, but began in the Spring of Ōei 28 (1421). The `Yearly Record of Eikōji` of Noto province noted in Ōei 27 that the region had suffered from a `great drought`, and recorded in the following year that `many have died of starvation`. At the estate of Fushimi in the same year, it was recorded on the fifteenth day of the first month (under the modern calendar the 26th day of February) that the scale of the estate`s traditional procession (in which a number of residents of the estate ordinarily dressed up in costumes and took part in a procession) was smaller than usual.  The reason given was that `in this year a famine throughout the realm robbed the people of their strength`. In the 2nd month, rather than lacking in strength it seems a number of people appeared who were suffering from illnesses.  On the evening of the 30th of the 2nd month (the 11th of April), a fire suddenly broke out in the house belonging to one of the shrine maidens of Go Gōnomiya, the guardian of Fushimi estate. Embers from the fire intermingled with acrid black smoke that rose up into the air (pg.170-171)
 
At the time, there were a lot of ill people within the village of Ishii on the Fushimi estate. Sadanari (the author of the Fushimi estate diary) saw this thick, black smoke accumulate over the village of Ishii, and concluded in his diary that the `fire wagon` of hell, used to transport the dead to the underworld, was making a stop at Ishii. (pg.171)  On the 10th of the 3rd month (the 21st of April), the residents of the Fushimi estate petitioned Sadanari to postpone the `Sarugaku` entertainments of Go Gōnomiya, which would normally take place in Spring, until Autumn. The reason given was that there was `a great famine in the realm`. Indeed, within the estate a large number of residents had already `looked towards Shuyō` (meaning they had died from starvation), and so those that were left did not have enough revenue to be able to afford a professional `Sarugaku` performer to take part in proceedings (up until now, most historians have interpreted the phrase 「首陽に赴く」as meaning that people `headed towards Kyoto`, yet the phrase is an idiom whose origins lie in the incidents at Shuyōzan in China, which meant `death from starvation`).(pg.172)
 
On the 24th of the 3rd month (the 5th of May), one of the shrine officials at Go Gōnomiya came down with a fever from a virulent disease. A rumour soon spread that this was `divine judgment` for postponing the Sarugaku activities indefinitely. The people of the estate, rendered speechless by the suddenness of this `divine judgment`, quickly assembled for a meeting in front of the shrine of Go Gōnomiya. (pg.172) As a result of this meeting, a decision was made to not to wait until Autumn and have the Sarugaku performed on the 10th day of the 4th month (the 19th of May).  This particular episode demonstrates just how much confusion the people at the time experienced, and how their lives were disrupted by the arrival of a natural disaster.  Until the wheat was harvested at the beginning of Summer the people of the time had to try to survive the Spring as best they could. It was something that everyone of the time had to go through.  And so the great famine headed towards its climax. (pg.172)