<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page161" id="page161"></SPAN></span>
<h2>THE GHOST OF SAKURA</h2>
<p>The misfortunes and death of the farmer Sôgorô,
which, although the preternatural appearances by which they are
said to have been followed may raise a smile, are matters of
historic notoriety with which every Japanese is familiar,
furnish a forcible illustration of the relations which exist
between the tenant and the lord of the soil, and of the
boundless power for good or for evil exercised by the latter.
It is rather remarkable that in a country where the
peasant—placed as he is next to the soldier, and before
the artisan and merchant, in the four classes into which the
people are divided—enjoys no small consideration, and
where agriculture is protected by law from the inroads of wild
vegetation, even to the lopping of overshadowing branches and
the cutting down of hedgerow timber, the lord of the manor
should be left practically without control in his dealings with
his people.</p>
<p>The land-tax, or rather the yearly rent paid by the tenant,
is usually assessed at forty per cent. of the produce; but
there is no principle clearly defining it, and frequently the
landowner and the cultivator divide the proceeds of the harvest
in equal shapes. Rice land is divided into three classes; and,
according to these classes, it is computed that one <i>tan</i>
(1,800 square feet) of the best land should yield to the owner
a revenue of five bags of rice per annum; each of these bags
holds four tô (a tô is rather less than half an
imperial bushel), and is worth at present (1868) three riyos,
or about sixteen shillings; land of the middle class should
yield a revenue of three or four bags. The rent is paid either
in rice or in money, according to the actual price of the
grain, which varies considerably. It is due in the eleventh
month of the year, when the crops have all been gathered, and
their market value fixed.</p>
<p>The rent of land bearing crops other than rice, such as
cotton, beans, roots, and so forth, is payable in money during
the twelfth month. The choice of the nature of the crops to be
grown appears to be left to the tenant.</p>
<p>The Japanese landlord, when pressed by poverty, does not
confine himself to the raising of his legitimate rents: he can
always enforce from his needy tenantry the advancement of a
year's rent, or the loan of so much money as may be required to
meet his immediate necessities. Should the lord be just, the
peasant is repaid by instalments, with interest, extending over
ten or twenty years. But it too often happens that unjust and
merciless lords <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page162" id="page162"></SPAN></span> do not repay such loans,
but, on the contrary, press for further advances. Then it is
that the farmers, dressed in their grass rain-coats, and
carrying sickles and bamboo poles in their hands, assemble
before the gate of their lord's palace at the capital, and
represent their grievances, imploring the intercession of
the retainers, and even of the womankind who may chance to
go forth. Sometimes they pay for their temerity by their
lives; but, at any rate, they have the satisfaction of
bringing shame upon their persecutor, in the eyes of his
neighbours and of the populace.</p>
<div class="figcenter"
style="width:100%;">
<SPAN href="images/162.jpg"
name="image162"
target="blank" id="image162"><ANTIMG width-obs="100%"
src="images/162.jpg" alt="THE DEPUTATION OF PEASANTS AT THEIR LORD'S GATE." /></SPAN> THE DEPUTATION OF PEASANTS AT THEIR LORD'S GATE.</div>
<p>The official reports of recent travels in the interior of
Japan have fully proved the hard lot with which the peasantry
had to put up during the government of the Tycoons, and
especially under the Hatamotos, the created nobility of the
dynasty. In one province, where the village mayors appear to
have seconded the extortions of their lord, they have had to
flee before an exasperated population, who, taking advantage of
the revolution, laid waste and pillaged their houses, loudly
praying for a new and just assessment of the land; while,
throughout the country, the farmers have hailed with
acclamations the resumption of the sovereign power by the
Mikado, and the abolition of the petty nobility who exalted
themselves upon the misery of their dependants. Warming
themselves in the sunshine of the court at Yedo,
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page163" id="page163"></SPAN></span> the Hatamotos waxed fat and
held high revel, and little cared they who groaned or who
starved. Money must be found, and it was found.</p>
<p>It is necessary here to add a word respecting the position
of the village mayors, who play so important a part in the
tale.</p>
<p>The peasants of Japan are ruled by three classes of
officials: the Nanushi, or mayor; the Kumigashira, or chiefs of
companies; and the Hiyakushôdai, or farmers'
representatives. The village, which is governed by the Nanushi,
or mayor, is divided into companies, which, consisting of five
families each, are directed by a Kumigashira; these companies,
again, are subdivided into groups of five men each, who choose
one of their number to represent them in case of their having
any petition to present, or any affairs to settle with their
superiors. This functionary is the Hiyakushôdai. The
mayor, the chief of the company, and the representative keep
registers of the families and people under their control, and
are responsible for their good and orderly behaviour. They pay
taxes like the other farmers, but receive a salary, the amount
of which depends upon the size and wealth of the village. Five
per cent. of the yearly land tax forms the salary of the mayor,
and the other officials each receive five per cent. of the tax
paid by the little bodies over which they respectively
rule.</p>
<p>The average amount of land for one family to cultivate is
about one chô, or 9,000 square yards; but there are
farmers who have inherited as much as five or even six
chô from their ancestors. There is also a class of
farmers called, from their poverty, "water-drinking farmers,"
who have no land of their own, but hire that of those who have
more than they can keep in their own hands. The rent so paid
varies; but good rice land will bring in as high a rent as
from £1 18s. to £2 6s. per tan (1,800 square
feet).</p>
<p>Farm labourers are paid from six or seven riyos a year to as
much as thirty riyos (the riyo being worth about 5s. 4d.);
besides this, they are clothed and fed, not daintily indeed,
but amply. The rice which they cultivate is to them an almost
unknown luxury: millet is their staple food, and on high days
and holidays they receive messes of barley or buckwheat. Where
the mulberry-tree is grown, and the silkworm is "educated,"
there the labourer receives the highest wage.</p>
<p>The rice crop on good land should yield twelve and a half
fold, and on ordinary land from six to seven fold only.
Ordinary arable land is only half as valuable as rice land,
which cannot be purchased for less than forty riyos per tan of
1,800 square feet. Common hill or wood land is cheaper, again,
than arable land; but orchards and groves of the Pawlonia are
worth from fifty to sixty riyos per tan.</p>
<p>With regard to the punishment of crucifixion, by which
Sôgorô was put to death, it is inflicted for the
following offences:—parricide (including the murder or
striking of parents, uncles,
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page164" id="page164"></SPAN></span> aunts, elder brothers,
masters, or teachers) coining counterfeit money, and passing
the barriers of the Tycoon's territory without a
permit.<SPAN id="footnotetag59"
name="footnotetag59"></SPAN><SPAN href="#footnote59"><sup>59</sup></SPAN>
The criminal is attached to an upright post with two cross
bars, to which his arms and feet are fastened by ropes. He
is then transfixed with spears by men belonging to the Eta
or Pariah class. I once passed the execution-ground near
Yedo, when a body was attached to the cross. The dead man
had murdered his employer, and, having been condemned to
death by crucifixion, had died in prison before the sentence
could be carried out. He was accordingly packed, in a
squatting position, in a huge red earthenware jar, which,
having been tightly filled up with. salt, was hermetically
sealed. On the anniversary of the commission of the crime,
the jar was carried down to the execution-ground and broken,
and the body was taken out and tied to the cross, the joints
of the knees and arms having been cut, to allow of the
extension of the stiffened and shrunken limbs; it was then
transfixed with spears, and allowed to remain exposed for
three days. An open grave, the upturned soil of which seemed
almost entirely composed of dead men's remains, waited to
receive the dishonoured corpse, over which three or four
Etas, squalid and degraded beings, were mounting guard,
smoking their pipes by a scanty charcoal fire, and bandying
obscene jests. It was a hideous and ghastly warning, had any
cared to read the lesson; but the passers-by on the high
road took little or no notice of the sight, and a group of
chubby and happy children were playing not ten yards from
the dead body, as if no strange or uncanny thing were near
them.</p>
<h3>THE GHOST OF SAKURA.<SPAN id="footnotetag60" name="footnotetag60"></SPAN><SPAN href="#footnote60"><sup>60</sup></SPAN></h3>
<p>How true is the principle laid down by Confucius, that the
benevolence of princes is reflected in their country, while
their wickedness causes sedition and confusion!</p>
<div class="figcenter"
style="width:100%;">
<SPAN href="images/165.jpg"
name="image165"
target="blank" id="image165"><ANTIMG width-obs="100%"
src="images/165.jpg" alt="THE GHOST OF SAKURA." /></SPAN> THE GHOST OF SAKURA.</div>
<p>In the province of Shimôsa, and the district of
Sôma, Hotta Kaga no Kami was lord of the castle of
Sakura, and chief of a family which had for generations
produced famous warriors. When Kaga no Kami, who had served in
the Gorôjiu, the cabinet of the Shogun, died at the
castle of Sakura, his eldest son Kôtsuké no
Suké Masanobu inherited his estates and honours, and was
appointed to a seat in the Gorôjiu; but he was a
different man from the lords who had preceded him. He treated
the farmers and peasants unjustly, imposing additional and
grievous taxes, so that the tenants on his estates were driven
to the last extremity of poverty; and although year after year,
and month <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page165" id="page165"></SPAN></span>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page166" id="page166"></SPAN></span> after month, they prayed
for mercy, and remonstrated against this injustice, no heed
was paid to them, and the people throughout the villages
were reduced to the utmost distress. Accordingly, the chiefs
of the one hundred and thirty-six villages, producing a
total revenue of 40,000 kokus of rice, assembled together in
council and determined unanimously to present a petition to
the Government, sealed with their seals, stating that their
repeated remonstrances had been taken no notice of by their
local authorities. Then they assembled in numbers before the
house of one of the councillors of their lord, named
Ikéura Kazuyé, in order to show the petition
to him first, but even then no notice was taken of them; so
they returned home, and resolved, after consulting together,
to proceed to their lord's yashiki, or palace, at Yedo, on
the seventh day of the tenth month. It was determined, with
one accord, that one hundred and forty-three village chiefs
should go to Yedo; and the chief of the village of Iwahashi,
one Sôgorô, a man forty-eight years of age,
distinguished for his ability and judgment, ruling a
district which produced a thousand kokus, stepped forward,
and said—</p>
<p>"This is by no means an easy matter, my masters. It
certainly is of great importance that we should forward our
complaint to our lord's palace at Yedo; but what are your
plans? Have you any fixed intentions?"</p>
<p>"It is, indeed, a most important matter," rejoined the
others; but they had nothing further to say. Then
Sôgorô went on to say—</p>
<p>"We have appealed to the public office of our province, but
without avail; we have petitioned the Prince's councillors,
also in vain. I know that all that remains for us is to lay our
case before our lord's palace at Yedo; and if we go there, it
is equally certain that we shall not be listened to—on
the contrary, we shall be cast into prison. If we are not
attended to here, in our own province, how much less will the
officials at Yedo care for us. We might hand our petition into
the litter of one of the Gorôjiu, in the public streets;
but, even in that case, as our lord is a member of the
Gorôjiu, none of his peers would care to examine into the
rights and wrongs of our complaint, for fear of offending him,
and the man who presented the petition in so desperate a manner
would lose his life on a bootless errand. If you have made up
your minds to this, and are determined, at all hazards, to
start, then go to Yedo by all means, and bid a long farewell to
parents, children, wives, and relations. This is my
opinion."</p>
<p>The others all agreeing with what Sôgorô said,
they determined that, come what might, they would go to Yedo;
and they settled to assemble at the village of Funabashi on the
thirteenth day of the eleventh month.</p>
<p>On the appointed day all the village officers met at the
place agreed upon,—Sôgorô, the chief of the
village of Iwahashi, alone being missing; and as on the
following day Sôgorô had not yet arrived, they
deputed one of their number, named Rokurobei, to
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page167" id="page167"></SPAN></span> inquire the reason.
Rokurobei arrived at Sôgorô's house towards four
in the afternoon, and found him warming himself quietly over
his charcoal brazier, as if nothing were the matter. The
messenger, seeing this, said rather testily—</p>
<p>"The chiefs of the villages are all assembled at Funabashi
according to covenant, and as you, Master Sôgorô,
have not arrived, I have come to inquire whether it is sickness
or some other cause that prevents you."</p>
<p>"Indeed," replied Sôgorô, "I am sorry that you
should have had so much trouble. My intention was to have set
out yesterday; but I was taken with a cholic, with which I am
often troubled, and, as you may see, I am taking care of
myself; so for a day or two I shall not be able to start. Pray
be so good as to let the others know this."</p>
<p>Rokurobei, seeing that there was no help for it, went back
to the village of Funabashi and communicated to the others what
had occurred. They were all indignant at what they looked upon
as the cowardly defection of a man who had spoken so fairly,
but resolved that the conduct of one man should not influence
the rest, and talked themselves into the belief that the affair
which they had in hand would be easily put through; so they
agreed with one accord to start and present the petition, and,
having arrived at Yedo, put up in the street called
Bakurochô. But although they tried to forward their
complaint to the various officers of their lord, no one would
listen to them; the doors were all shut in their faces, and
they had to go back to their inn, crestfallen and without
success.</p>
<p>On the following day, being the 18th of the month, they all
met together at a tea-house in an avenue, in front of a shrine
of Kwannon Sama;<SPAN id="footnotetag61"
name="footnotetag61"></SPAN><SPAN href="#footnote61"><sup>61</sup></SPAN>
and having held a consultation, they determined that, as
they could hit upon no good expedient, they would again send
for Sôgorô to see whether he could devise no
plan. Accordingly, on the 19th, Rokurobei and one
Jiuyémon started for the village of Iwahashi at noon,
and arrived the same evening.</p>
<p>Now the village chief Sôgorô, who had made up
his mind that the presentation of this memorial was not a
matter to be lightly treated, summoned his wife and children
and his relations, and said to them—</p>
<p>"I am about to undertake a journey to Yedo, for the
following reasons:—Our present lord of the soil has
increased the land-tax, in rice and the other imposts, more
than tenfold, so that pen and paper would fail to convey an
idea of the poverty to which the people are reduced, and the
peasants are undergoing the tortures of hell upon earth. Seeing
this, the chiefs of the various villages have presented
petitions, but with what result is doubtful. My earnest desire,
therefore, is to devise some means of escape from this cruel
persecution. If my ambitious scheme does not succeed, then
shall I return home no more; and even
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page168" id="page168"></SPAN></span> should I gain my end, it is
hard to say how I may be treated by those in power. Let us
drink a cup of wine together, for it may be that you shall
see my face no more. I give my life to allay the misery of
the people of this estate. If I die, mourn not over my fate;
weep not for me."</p>
<p>Having spoken thus, he addressed his wife and his four
children, instructing them carefully as to what he desired to
be done after his death, and minutely stating every wish of his
heart. Then, having drunk a parting cup with them, he
cheerfully took leave of all present, and went to a tea-house
in the neighbouring village of Funabashi, where the two
messengers, Rokurobei and Jiuyémon, were anxiously
awaiting his arrival, in order that they might recount to him
all that had taken place at Yedo.</p>
<p>"In short," said they, "it appears to us that we have failed
completely; and we have come to meet you in order to hear what
you propose. If you have any plan to suggest, we would fain be
made acquainted with it."</p>
<p>"We have tried the officers of the district," replied
Sôgorô, "and we have tried my lord's palace at
Yedo. However often we might assemble before my lord's gate, no
heed would be given to us. There is nothing left for us but to
appeal to the Shogun."</p>
<p>So they sat talking over their plans until the night was far
advanced, and then they went to rest. The winter night was
long; but when the cawing of the crows was about to announce
the morning, the three friends started on their journey for the
tea-house at Asakusa, at which, upon their arrival, they found
the other village elders already assembled.</p>
<p>"Welcome, Master Sôgorô," said they. "How is it
that you have come so late? We have petitioned all the officers
to no purpose, and we have broken our bones in vain. We are at
our wits' end, and can think of no other scheme. If there is
any plan which seems good to you, we pray you to act upon
it."</p>
<p>"Sirs," replied Sôgorô, speaking very quietly,
"although we have met with no better success here than in our
own place, there is no use in grieving. In a day or two the
Gorôjiu will be going to the castle; we must wait for
this opportunity, and following one of the litters, thrust in
our memorial. This is my opinion: what think you of it, my
masters?"</p>
<p>One and all, the assembled elders were agreed as to the
excellence of this advice; and having decided to act upon it,
they returned to their inn.</p>
<p>Then Sôgorô held a secret consultation with
Jiuyémon, Hanzô, Rokurobei, Chinzô, and
Kinshirô, five of the elders, and, with their assistance,
drew up the memorial; and having heard that on the 26th of the
month, when the Gorôjiu should go to the castle,
Kuzé Yamato no Kami would proceed to a palace under the
western enclosure of the castle, they kept watch in a place
hard by. As soon as they saw the litter of the Gorôjiu
approach, <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page169" id="page169"></SPAN></span> they drew near to it, and,
having humbly stated their grievances, handed in the
petition; and as it was accepted, the six elders were
greatly elated, and doubted not that their hearts' desire
would be attained; so they went off to a tea-house at
Riyôgoku, and Jiuyémon said—</p>
<p>"We may congratulate ourselves on our success. We have
handed in our petition to the Gorôjiu, and now we may set
our minds at rest; before many days have passed, we shall hear
good news from the rulers. To Master Sôgorô is due
great praise for his exertions."</p>
<p>Sôgorô, stepping forward, answered, "Although we
have presented our memorial to the Gorôjiu, the matter
will not be so quickly decided; it is therefore useless that so
many of us should remain here: let eleven men stay with me, and
let the rest return home to their several villages. If we who
remain are accused of conspiracy and beheaded, let the others
agree to reclaim and bury our corpses. As for the expenses
which we shall incur until our suit is concluded, let that be
according to our original covenant. For the sake of the hundred
and thirty-six villages we will lay down our lives, if needs
must, and submit to the disgrace of having our heads exposed as
those of common malefactors."</p>
<p>Then they had a parting feast together, and, after a sad
leave-taking, the main body of the elders went home to their
own country; while the others, wending their way to their
quarters waited patiently to be summoned to the Supreme Court.
On the 2d day of the 12th month, Sôgorô, having
received a summons from the residence of the Gorôjiu
Kuzé Yamato no Kami, proceeded to obey it, and was
ushered to the porch of the house, where two councillors, named
Aijima Gidaiyu and Yamaji Yôri, met him, and
said—</p>
<p>"Some days since you had the audacity to thrust a memorial
into the litter of our lord Yamato no Kami. By an extraordinary
exercise of clemency, he is willing to pardon this heinous
offence; but should you ever again endeavour to force your
petitions; upon him, you will be held guilty of riotous
conduct;" and with this they gave back the memorial.</p>
<p>"I humbly admit the justice of his lordship's censure. But
oh! my lords, this is no hasty nor ill-considered action. Year
after year, affliction upon affliction has been heaped upon us,
until at last the people are without even the necessaries of
life; and we, seeing no end to the evil, have humbly presented
this petition. I pray your lordships of your great mercy to
consider our case" and deign to receive our memorial. Vouchsafe
to take some measures that the people may live, and our
gratitude for your great kindness will know no bounds."</p>
<p>"Your request is a just one," replied the two councillors
after hearing what he said; "but your memorial cannot be
received: so you must even take it back."</p>
<p>With this they gave back the document, and wrote down the
names of Sôgorô and six of the elders who had
accompanied him. <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page170" id="page170"></SPAN></span> There was no help for it:
they must take back their petition, and return to their inn.
The seven men, dispirited and sorrowful, sat with folded
arms considering what was best to be done, what plan should
be devised, until at last, when they were at their wits'
end, Sôgorô said, in a whisper—</p>
<p>"So our petition, which we gave in after so much pains, has
been returned after all! With what f ace can we return to our
villages after such a disgrace? I, for one, do not propose to
waste my labour for nothing; accordingly, I shall bide my time
until some day, when the Shogun shall go forth from the castle,
and, lying in wait by the roadside, I shall make known our
grievances to him, who is lord over our lord. This is our last
chance."</p>
<div class="figcenter"
style="width:75%;">
<SPAN href="images/170.jpg"
name="image170"
target="blank" id="image170"><ANTIMG width-obs="100%"
src="images/170.jpg" alt="SÔGORÔ THRUSTING THE PETITION INTO THE SHOGUN'S LITTER." /></SPAN> SÔGORÔ THRUSTING THE PETITION INTO THE
SHOGUN'S LITTER.</div>
<p>The others all applauded this speech, and, having with one
accord hardened their hearts, waited for their opportunity.</p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />