ON THE NIGHT OF the fourteenth of the twelfth month – or, to be more exact, before daybreak on the fifteenth – of the fifteenth year of Genroku,
1702, a band of forty-seven men broke into the Edo mansion of Kira K
zukenosuke Yoshinaka1 and killed Kira and many of the men staying with him. They immediately reported their action to the proper authorities, providing
a list of the participants as well as an explanation: They had assaulted and killed Kira to avenge their lord, Asano Takuminokami
Naganori.2
Early in the previous year, during the annual reception of imperial messengers in Edo Castle, Asano, a daimyo on the reception
committee, had attacked and wounded Kira, the lord of a kke, “high house,” the highest-ranking hereditary specialist in protocol appointed to guide Asano and others on reception etiquette.
The government did not deliberate for long before coming to a decision: condemning Asano to death by disembowelment on the
same day, while praising Kira for his restraint. The government also put Asano’s brother, Daigaku, then a shogunate aide-de-camp,
under house arrest and confiscated Asano’s castle in Ak, Harima Province. The men who broke into the Kira mansion, led by
Asano’s house administrator, 
ishi Kuranosuke Yoshio, were some of those who had become “masterless” as a result.
Nearly fifty days after the vendetta, on the fourth day of the second month, the men received the government’s verdict on their action: death by disembowelment. The sentence was carried out at once, and the men – who had been broken up into four units and placed in the custody of four daimyo houses on the day they killed Kira – were all dead before the end of the day.
There prevailed in that period an adjudicative principle known as kenka ryseibai: In a quarrel the two parties involved are equally to blame. Partly because of this, the government’s handling of Asano and
Kira was felt to be unjust – the impression strengthened by Kira’s notoriety as an arrogant and coercive bribe-taker who used
his special knowledge and position without any sense of embarrassment. Only a few years earlier another daimyo in Asano’s
position had seriously contemplated killing the man.
Nevertheless, Japan then was a society that had accustomed itself to prolonged domestic peace and the capricious, often heavy-handed rule of the fifth Tokugawa shogun Tsunayoshi (1646-1709), who, among other things, issued an edict forbidding the maltreatment or killing of all living things, from mosquito larvae to cats, dogs, and horses. (Human beings were evidently not counted among living things: Those who violated the edict were often put to death.) As a result, the vengeance carried out by a highly disciplined group of men, in seeming defiance of the government, shocked and won widespread admiration. Naturally, the government’s decision on the avengers, when it came, provoked profound indignation among the general populace. It also generated spirited debate among scholars, who were mostly Confucian.
The vendetta itself was given its first dramatization a mere twelve days after the avengers disemboweled themselves. It has since continued to spawn plays, legends, treatises, fictions, and, of course, movies.
It should be noted that the number of people who surrendered themselves to the authorities after the killing of Kira was forty-six.
There has been a good deal of speculation on what happened to the forty-seventh, Terasaka Kichiemon. Some say he panicked
and ran away just before the men broke into Kira’s house; others that he received special instructions from the leader, ishi,
and left the group after the vendetta was completed. Here I follow the prevailing practice of assuming that the group consisted
of forty-seven men.
What follows are the first part of an eye-witness account of what happened on the day Asano Naganori wounded Kira Yoshinaka, and some of the subsequent arguments made on the revenge.
Okado Denpachir (1659-1723), who in 1697 was appointed an o-metsuke, which in this instance may be given as “deputy inspector-general,” was on duty when the incident occurred. As a result,
he, along with one of his colleagues also on duty, was assigned to question Asano. In addition, together with another deputy inspector-general, he was
appointed a fukushi, “assistant marshal,” to see to it that Asano’s disembowelment was properly carried out.
The position of o-metsuke was a powerful one, its chief responsibility being to “spy” on shogunate aides-de-camp and other direct vassals for the shogun.
It might be thought that in his line of duty an o-metsuke’s superior was an -metsuke, “inspector-general,” whose main responsibility it was to “spy” on daimyo. But the Tokugawa Shogunate was a government of
deliberate redundancies and divided responsibilities, where an o-metsuke reported, and was accountable, not to his titular superior, an -metsuke, but only to a wakadoshiyori, “deputy administrator,” while an -metsuke reported to a rch
, “administrator.” The position of rch was first in government rank, and that of wakadoshiyori second, except when the emergency position of tair, “grand administrator,” was created. These separate chains of command in part explain Denpachir’s intransigence to Inspector-General
Shda Yasutoshi (1650-1705).
The Tokugawa Shogunate was also a government of collective decision making. The top administrative position, in normal times,
of rch had four or five simultaneous appointees, who served in pairs every other month; so did the position of wakadoshiyori as well as that of -metsuke. When it comes to o-metsuke, there were as many as twenty-four appointees at any time, as Okado himself notes.
In his original account Denpachir speaks mostly of himself in the third person, often making a slip and referring to himself
in the first person. In the translation the account is given uniformly in the first person for better narrative flow.
On the fourteenth of the third month of the fourteenth year of Genroku [1701], the two deputy inspectors-general on duty were
kubo Gonzaemon and I, Okado Denpachir. However, all the twenty-four deputy inspectors-general were on hand, with Kuru Jzaemon
and Kond Heihachir on overnight duty. About an hour before noon there was a great commotion in the palace, and a message
was promptly delivered to the room for the deputy inspectors-general: “Just now, in the Pine Hallway, there was a quarrel,
even injury. I don’t know who his opponent was, but Lord Kira Kzukenosuke of the High House was wounded with a sword!”
At once all of us deputy inspectors-general hurried to the Pine Hallway, where we found Kzukenosuke in the arms of Shinagawa
Koreuji, Governor of Buzen, on the wooden verandah near the Cherry Room, shouting in a delirious, high-pitched voice, tongue
trembling, “Bring doctors, please!” He had run from a corner of the Pine Hallway toward the Cherry Room, and the tatami had
blood spilled all along the way.
On one side was Asano Takuminokami, face flushed and sword-less, held down by Kajikawa Yosob
, saying in a subdued tone: “Sir,
I’m not deranged. I understand why you are holding me down like this, but please let me go. I failed to kill him, and I’m
ready to be punished. I would not try to injure him again. Unloosen your arms. Allow me to put on my headgear, allow me to
straighten my crested robe, so I may await an order in accordance with the Regulations for the Military Houses.”
But Yosob would not relax his hold. So Takuminokami tried to reason with him: “I am at the least the lord president of a
castle with holdings of 50,000 koku. Certainly I behaved in a manner inappropriate for this place, and I profoundly regret
it. Nevertheless, I am wearing a formal robe. If you continue to hold me down in this unseemly fashion, my robe will become
crumpled. I have absolutely no grievance against the shogun, have no intention of acting against him. I do regret I failed
in my attempt to kill, but that’s what happened and there’s nothing more I can do about it.”
Still, Yosob continued to pin him down to the tatami, twisting him, so the four of us, Gonzaemon, Jzaemon, Heihachir, and
I, received him in our custody, straightened his headgear and crested robe, placed him in a corner of the Cycad Room sectioned
off with screens, and took turns watching over him. This immensely pleased him.
Kzukenosuke was similarly sectioned off with screens, in the northern corner of the Cycad Room, with four deputy inspectors-general
accompanying him. He asked, “Is there enough distance between Takuminokami and me? Won’t he come over here again?” The inspectors
said, “Don’t worry, sir. We’re here with you.”
In no time, in places like the dismounting areas of the Main Gate and Sakurada Gate there was a great commotion among those
who didn’t know the names of the people involved in the quarrel and were worried about their masters, some coming in as far
as the Main Entrance and Inner Entrance – or so reported Assistant Inspectors Mizuno Mokuzemon, Machida Ib, and others, who
asked, “We’ve stopped them at various gates, but they don’t believe what we say. What shall we do?”
At once I gave instructions to the Office of the Architect, which prepared pine boards for public announcements with “Asano Takuminokami wounded Kira Kzukenosuke with a sword. Both men are under investigation in the palace. No unruly behavior
shall be tolerated among retainers” written on both sides in large brush strokes, and had them erected at all the dismounting areas. The commotion ceased immediately,
except among the retainers of Asano and Kira who remained in a state of agitation – so we stated to the administrators and
deputy administrators who had gathered in one room.
Administrators Tsuchiya Masanao, Governor of Sagami, and Ogasawara Nagashige, Governor of Sado, and Deputy Administrators
Kat Akihide, Governor of Etch, and Inoue Masamine, Governor of Yamato, who had gathered in one room, decided among themselves
and ordered Kond Heihachir and me to investigate what Takuminokami had to say, while ordering Kuru Jzaemon and kubo Gonzaemon
to investigate what Kzukenosuke had to say. The short sword with which Takuminokami had struck Kzukenosuke had already been
taken and put back in its sheath, and in the section for the doctors in the Cypress Room Takuminokami, whose headgear and
crested robe had been returned to him, was wearing a hemp ka-mishimo,3 with six assistant inspectors sitting to his left and right.
“Sir, concerning what you did today and what you have to say about it, the two of us have been ordered to investigate, and
we do intend to examine your words in accordance with the regulations. Do you understand, sir?” I continued, “You became oblivious
of where you were and went so far as to wound Kzukenosuke with a sword. Tell us what you have to say about that.”
Takuminokami would not make excuses for himself in any way, but said:
“Gentlemen, I have absolutely no grievance against the Shogun. I only had a personal grudge, and because of an accumulated
anger I momentarily forgot myself, decided to kill Kzukenosuke, and wounded him. No matter what punishment may be given me,
I’ll have no complaint. Nevertheless, I truly regret my failure to kill the man. How is he?”
When we replied, “The wounds are shallow, but he’s an old man. Besides, they’re on his face, so we aren’t sure he’ll ever recover,” Takuminokami’s face showed joy. After this, he would merely repeat, “I have nothing more to say, I’m afraid, gentlemen. I simply wait for the decision in accordance with the law.” So Takuminokami was again taken to the Cycad Room and made to stay there.
As for Kzukenosuke, similarly, in the section for the doctors in the Cypress Room his official robe was returned to him,
and he was made to wear a hemp kamishimo. However, for some reason the noshime robe4 hadn’t been readied, and someone else’s had to be borrowed for him. And in the same spot the two officers in charge told
him:
“Sir, Asano Takuminokami, who seemed to have a grudge against you, went so far as to wound you with a sword. We’ve been ordered to conduct a detailed investigation of the matter, and would like to examine your words in accordance with the regulations. What kind of grudge had you provoked against yourself, so that Takuminokami, becoming oblivious of where he was, went so far as to wound you with a sword? You are certainly aware of the reason for it, and we trust you will tell us exactly what it is.”
Kzukenosuke replied, “I am absolutely not aware of anything that might have generated a grudge against me. I’m convinced
Takuminokami became deranged. Besides, I’m an old man. Why should anyone entertain a grudge against me? I am absolutely not
aware of anything whatsoever. Other than that, I have nothing to say.”
After this the four of us, Kuru Jzaemon, Kond Heihachir, kubo Gonzaemon, and I, consulted Inspectors-General Sengoku Hisayoshi,
Governor of Tamba, and And Shigetsune, Governor of Chikugo, and reported the matter to the deputy administrators, who in
turn reported it to Administrator Ogasawara. Then the four of us directly provided Administrator Ogasawara, with Administrator
Tsuchiya also present, with detailed explanations of what Takuminokami and Kzukenosuke had said. The matter was further reported
to Lord Matsudaira Yoshiyasu, Governor of Mino.5 We then received word that we would have further instructions in time and that we ought to stay in our room for a while.
During this time two inspectors-general took turns guarding Takuminokami and Kzukenosuke. Also, in response to Kzukenosuke’s
request that his wounds be tended to, two palace doctors, Amano Ryjun and Kurisaki Dy, examined his condition with his
colleague Shinagawa Koreuji, Governor of Buzen, present. They determined that the wounds were shallow, and tended to them
accordingly.
In time Chief of Service Nagakura Chin’ami conveyed the word:
“Deputy inspectors-general who investigated Takuminokami and Kzukenosuke, and others, all come forward.
“Deputy Administrators Lord Kat Akihide, Governor of Etch, and Lord Inagaki Shigetomi, Governor of Tsushima, had a meeting
and made a decision.
“Concerning Asano Takuminokami, awhile ago he, becoming oblivious of where he was, and because of a long-standing private
grudge, wounded Kira Kzukenosuke with a sword. This was intolerable. He is ordered to be placed in the custody of Tamura
Ukynoday and to disembowel himself.
“Concerning Kzukenosuke, he was aware of where he was and would not fight back. This was highly commendable. Shogunate Doctor
Yoshida Ian is ordered to provide him with medicine, and Palace Doctor Kurisaki Dy to tend to his external wounds, so that he may have a good rest and recuperation. He may leave
as he pleases, accompanied by his colleague from the High House.”
All of us deputy inspectors-general heard these words gravely. We forwarded our protest:
“As for placing Takuminokami in Tamura Ukynoday’s custody, we will at once relay the message. At the same time, however,
as for making these decisions public, we’d like to request that some time be given before we respond properly.”
Meanwhile word was sent to Tamura Ukynoday that he make necessary preparations in accordance with set rules.
Then, through Nagakura Chin’ami we – Denpachir, Jzaemon, Heihachir, and Gonzaemon – sought a meeting with the deputy administrators,
and I made the following statement:
“A while ago when we investigated what Takuminokami had to say, as I reported exactly, he said he had no grievance against
the Shogun. He merely had a profound grudge against Kzukenosuke, so that he forgot himself and, despite the gravity of the
place, struck at him with a sword. He agreed that this was a serious, intolerable act. And his straightforward response was
that no matter what punishment was given him, he would have nothing to complain about.
“Nonetheless, he is at the least a lord president of a castle with holdings of 50,000 koku and, in addition, from a house whose main branch is a daimyo with large holdings. When these things are considered, ordering disembowelment at once, today, as has been done, is too casual a measure. We fear that we occupy negligible posts, but as long as we are thought fit to serve in the position of deputy inspector-general, it would be a disservice on our part if we failed to point out our superiors’ oversight when there is one, and we are afraid that Takuminokami’s being ordered to disembowel himself on the same day is such an oversight. It is because of this that we dare point this out in disregard of the wrath this might bring down upon ourselves.
“Furthermore, Kzukenosuke may indeed have shown restraint, but if Takuminokami, a daimyo of 50,000 koku, in fact had the
kind of grievance against him that made him abandon his house, forget where he was, and strike at him with a sword – even
supposing that he had become deranged, it would be difficult to say that Kzukenosuke had done nothing blameworthy.
“In the circumstances, if you take at face value the result of the investigation conducted in some haste by only the two of us, the main branch of the Asano family, especially in view of the fact that it is of nonhereditary vassalage, might at some later date decide, should something untoward happen, that the shogunate handling of the matter was too casual.
“For this reason, concerning Takuminokami’s disembowelment, we must request that inspectors-general, along with us, conduct
a reinvestigation, and that a decision be made after an appropriate number of days have passed, whatever the penalty then
may be. Until that time, Kzukenosuke should be ordered to watch out for his own behavior, while a reinvestigation of him
is also conducted. If he proves all right and it also turns out that he had done nothing deserving grievance and that only
Takuminokami’s derangement made him strike at him with a sword, treatment in his favor should be accorded him. Giving him
favorable treatment today for his action today, we’re afraid, is too casual. This we must dare point out.”
Deputy Administrators Inagaki and Kat said, “You make perfect sense. We see that you are determined to fulfill your role
of deputy inspector-general. We will relay your words to the administrators.”
While we waited, the two deputy administrators returned and said, “The protest you made is entirely understandable. However, this is a case Lord Matsudaira had already heard and made a decision on, so they say you must accept what you were told earlier.”
I, Denpachir, alone protested further.
“Sir,” I said. “If it is solely Lord Matsudaira’s decision, I must ask that our statement be conveyed further up to the shogun. This is such a one-sided punishment that any daimyo of non-hereditary vassalage would be embarrassed to hear of it. Please do convey our statement to the Shogun at least once. Of course, if the matter has already been conveyed to him and the decision contains his thoughts as well, I must be pleased to accept it. But if Lord Matsudaira alone heard the case, I must request strongly that our protest be conveyed to the Shogun.”
So Deputy Administrators Inagaki and Kat once again conveyed my protest to Lord Matsudaira. This angered Lord Matsudaira,
who said, “I indeed haven’t told the Shogun of this, but I, the administrator, have heard the case and made the decision.
I find it hard to believe that the protest is brought to me yet again. Denpachir deserves a penalty equivalent to house arrest.
Have him stay in his room.”6
This message was brought by Deputy Administrator Inoue. The two deputy administrators who were involved earlier, perhaps feeling sorry for me, did not return.
While I stayed in a room as under house arrest, a place for disembowelment was set up at Tamura Ukynoday’s house. Kira Kzukenosuke
left the palace accompanied by tomo Yoshitaka, Governor of mi, and all the imperial messengers also left. Because of the
confusion following the incident of the day, by the time the reception ceremonies were completed, it was already evening.
In the meantime, the deputy administrators sought a meeting with Administrator Akimoto Takatomo, Governor of Tajima, who agreed to allow me to leave. His words, as conveyed to me, were:
“Concerning the incident earlier today in which Asano Takuminokami injured Kira Kzukenosuke with a sword and a decision was
handed to each as a result, you made your protest twice, and that was correct. You made the protest out of respect to the
Shogun, and that, we think, is commendable. However, in bringing your protest twice to the administrator you made a misjudgment.
“Nonetheless, the fact that you took your responsibilities seriously enough to make the protest is, as we said, commendable, so that you need not place yourself under house arrest. You may leave at once, and carry out your various assignments.”
So I had a discussion with my colleagues, and we decided that Gonzaemon and I would go as assistant marshals for the disembowelment of Takuminokami.
I asked my colleagues, “What about the protocol and other matters involving Takuminokami’s disembowelment? I was under a form of house arrest for some time, and I don’t know in what kind of place it’s going to be done.”
I learned that Inspector-General Shda Yasutoshi, Governor of Shimofusa, had been ordered to go as marshal. Accordingly, I
met the Governor of Shimofusa and said:
“From some time back until a few minutes ago I was under a form of house arrest, and I wasn’t informed of anything. Now I’ve
learned that you will serve as marshal, and I’ve been asked to serve as an assistant marshal. I assume, sir, that you haven’t
made an oversight, but may I ask if you have already checked Tamura Ukynoday’s preparations and other matters?”
The governor replied, “I’ve been having those matters checked for some time, and you needn’t worry.”
So I said, “I see that you’ve settled everything.”
Immediately preparations were made to go to Tamura Ukynoday’s, and the attendants were reselected. By the time all of us
left Edo Castle in one group, it was already nearly five o’clock on the evening of the fourteenth of the third month. Each
of us two deputy inspectors-general had a foot soldier as attendant and was accompanied by four constables from the City Magistrate’s
office. I wore a fukusa kosode7 and a hemp kamishimo. Inspector-General Shda led the way, followed by me, Denpachir, then by Gonzaemon. As we proceeded toward Ukynoday’s
mansion, we saw his advance men already near the Sakurada Gate, who seemed to run ahead to announce our approach. Indeed,
as we arrived, Ukynoday’s three house administrators and three officers welcomed us at the gate, and one from each group
accompanied the inspector-general to guide him in. Similar treatment was accorded to us deputies, as we were taken to the
main guest room. Tamura himself was at the main entrance to welcome us.
The governor said to Ukynoday, “We brought the message that we were ordered to put Takuminokami in your custody and have
him disembowel himself. Please make yourself ready, sir.” He then proposed to see Takuminokami.
At this point Gonzaemon and I said, “Sir, we’d like to inspect the place for his disembowelment.”
The governor said, “I took a look at a drawing of it a while ago, so that’s done. Neither of you need to inspect it.”
I insisted: “A while ago, sir, I was under a form of house arrest and while I stayed in my room you said you took care of everything. As a result I didn’t even have a chance to look at the drawing you mention. Also, while we were still in the palace, I asked you how things were, and you told me that you had looked after everything. You further indicated that at a later time you would tell us how things were. We left the matter at that.
“Nevertheless, the position of assistant marshal is an important one, and you are not alone in this assignment. If we haven’t even see the drawing, and if, after the sentence has been carried out, it were found that there was an oversight of any kind, it wouldn’t be good for us. You may have seen a drawing, but we must inspect the place. Then we can see to it that Takuminokami carries out the sentence. I insist that we inspect the place.”
The governor said, “As long as I’ve been appointed marshal, an assistant marshal doesn’t have to give me orders. However, you are a deputy inspector-general, and I can’t give you orders, so make the inspection as you please. Later, after all is finished, we will make our statements as we please, reporting the matter separately. If any of us commits an oversight, he will explain it himself. Do as you please.”
So the two of us, Gonzaemon and Denpachir, inspected the place, and found things that looked like large outdoor benches laid
out in the yard of the inner guest room, with white-hemmed tatami laid over them, a curtain hung around them, and sliding
screens with oiled paper set up against them. The arrangement was too stern in every respect.
We summoned Ukynoday and demanded:
“We’d like to know whether this place was set up after providing the Governor of Shimofusa with a drawing and obtaining his approval or following his own order. Even if you set it up following the order of an inspector-general, Takuminokami is a lord president of a castle. Above all, the decision to punish him was made in accordance with the Way of the Samurai. In the circumstances, it is intolerable to have him disembowel himself in a yard. No matter how formal and respectful you may make it, a yard is a yard. Even if you treat the man himself in crude fashion, this has to be done in a room. We don’t understand this. We must report this.”
Ukynoday became visibly angry at our words.
“I brought the matter up with the inspectors-general,” he said, “and I had them look at a drawing and received their approval. Since that was done, I find it hard to understand what you are telling me now. I myself heard your argument with the Governor of Shimofusa awhile ago. In the circumstances, each of you should go ahead and make a separate statement.”
“Indeed we will,” I said. “Even though Takuminokami acted improperly, he is a gentleman of fifth rank. Furthermore, he is the lord president of a castle with holdings of more than 50,000 koku. If he, as such and as Chief of the Bureau of Carpentry, is ordered to disembowel himself, he must be treated as a lord president of a castle and a gentleman.
“On the other hand, if further investigation were made, and if, after some days, depending on the penalty, he were deprived
of his court title and his court rank and became once again Matashichir8 and then were punished, the situation would be different. Indeed, that would be the way it should be. But punishment has
been ordered while he remains in his capacity as Chief of the Bureau of Carpentry. This means, I understand, that daimyo treatment
must be accorded to him.
“I thought it hard to predict what might be found out about the two men involved, and petitioned that Takuminokami’s disembowelment be delayed for several days. But the petition was turned down and I was ordered to put myself under a form of house arrest.”
Now Ukynoday understood my reasoning very well and in some embarrassment expressed the view that the matter should have
been handled in a better way. In the end, though, he said, “Now there’s nothing we can do.”
By the time these arguments took place, it was getting very late in the day.
We then turned to the governor and lodged a serious protest: “Sir, we have thoroughly inspected the place and found it highly at variance with what we had expected. Because of this possibility, a while ago we discussed the matter with you and expressed our hope that there would be no oversight in anything. We specifically asked how you had had the preparations made, and your reply was that there was no oversight. Accordingly, we left the matter to you. You seemed to indicate that you didn’t want us to interfere, and we left things as they were. Now, look what has happened, sir. We certainly will have to make our statements separately later.”
The governor became exceptionally angry at this.
“Do whatever you please,” he said. “All this is a matter that should concern me, the marshal. Go ahead and report whatever each of you may think.”
A serious dispute was about to ensue, when Ukynoday appeared and announced:
“Sir, just now someone who calls himself Kataoka Gengoemon9, Asano Takuminokami’s retainer, has shown up and said, ‘I’ve learned that my lord has been ordered to disembowel himself at your house. Because this will mean an eternal farewell between master and subject, may I ask you to allow me to have a glimpse of my lord?’
“I tried to turn him back a couple of times, but he asked me to convey his wishes to you at least once. He looked so upset in making this request that I thought he might do something untoward if I turned him down. So here I am, sir.”
The governor wouldn’t respond to this directly, merely saying, “I don’t think this is important enough to be brought to the attention of the marshal.” He wouldn’t say that the request should be granted or that it should not.
So I said to Ukynoday:
“There should be no problem about that. There is a way of doing it, however. When Takuminokami comes out to the place of disembowelment and the sentence is read out to him, make the retainer you mentioned shed his sword, bring him with several guards, and let him have a glimpse of his lord from some distance. You shouldn’t make the guarding of the man appear too heavy-handed, for, even if he wanted to rescue his lord and jumped up, the many retainers of yours who are there would restrain him at once. Allowing a glimpse is an act of compassion in the circumstances, and I would approve of it.”
Then I turned to the governor and asked, “What do you think, sir?” His reply was, “As you please.” So what I said was accepted.
By the time these exchanges were over, it was close to six o’clock. Soon Ukynoday told Takuminokami:
“Sir, it has been awhile since Inspector-General Shda Yasutoshi, Governor of Shimofusa, and Deputy Inspectors-General Okado
Denpachir and Okubo Gonzaemon arrived as marshals and announced their mission. Now you may proceed to the place set up for
the purpose. We have prepared appropriate clothing for you.”
He then took, we were told, the prepared clothing out of a long trunk and laid it on its lid.
While this was going on, we three marshals sat in the main guest room. Because of the earlier arguments the inspector-general
remained silent with us deputy inspectors-general except when there was some business to tend to. In a while Ukynoday came
and said:
“I conveyed the decision made earlier solely by you, Deputy Inspector-General Okado Denpachir, sir, to Takuminokami’s retainer
Kataoka Gengo’emon. He said he was immensely grateful, and asked me to convey his sentiments to you. We made him shed his swords in a room next to the inner guest room, and have him
guarded with many of my retainers.”
I said, “Please keep him under strict surveillance, and be very careful.”
At this the Governor of Shimofusa put on a sardonic smile. Obviously, the marshal was at odds with his assistants in every
matter. The two of us, Denpachir and Gonzaemon, had been arguing with the governor for some time. In particular, I had been
making my own thoughts public since that morning to such an extent that I had even been ordered to place myself under a form
of house arrest. As a result I expected to be relieved of my position the next day. Indeed, because I, his assistant, protested
on every matter, the governor seemed bemused.
Ukynoday added, “When Takuminokami prepares to disembowel himself I will bring out his retainer Kataoka Gengo’emon. I will
allow Gengo’emon to view his lord until the latter reaches his place.”
Before all of us proceeded to the place of disembowelment, the governor said to Takuminokami in the main guest room:
“Sir, today, in the palace, you became oblivious to where you were, and because of your personal grudge, you went so far as
to injure Kira Kzukenosuke with a sword. It was decided this was an intolerable act, and you have been ordered to disembowel
yourself.”
“Indeed, sir,” Takuminokami responded. “I am grateful nonetheless that in accordance with the martial custom I have the honor of having been ordered to disembowel myself. In addition, sir, even though this is an assignment given to each of you, it is exceptionally considerate of you to have come as far as this place as marshals.”
As he accepted the sentence, he looked no different from his normal self.
“I have a little inquiry to make, sir, if I may,” he added. ‘I do not mean to delay the time of disembowelment, but how is
Kzukenosuke?”
The governor replied, “It was ordered that his wounds be tended to, and he left the palace.”
“Well, deputy inspectors-general,” Takuminokami said, “you must have dealt with him. As I recollect, when I struck at him I wounded him in two places. What do you say the effect of those blows was?”
The two of us, Denpachir and Gonzaemon, responded in unison: “As you say, sir, you wounded him in two places. They were shallow wounds, it is true, but he is an old man; worse, you wounded him in places that tend to be fatal. He may try to recover
from them the best he can, but your blows were so hard and painful we aren’t sure that he will.”
When he heard this, Takuminokami almost shed tears as he gave a broad smile.
He then said to Ukynoday, “Now, lead me to the place, sir.” He said these words in a most normal fashion, we thought.
When we reached the place of disembowelment, it was past six o’clock. Each of us took his seat.
As he seated himself, Takuminokami said, “I have a request to make of the marshals. I take it that you have kept my long sword in your custody. I’d like my second to use that sword and, afterward, keep it as my gift.”
The governor, who heard the request, asked, “Assistant marshals and deputy inspectors-general, what do you think of this?”
“We should do as requested,” we said. Takuminokami’s long sword was indeed in our custody, and we at once arranged to have it brought to us. Takuminokami then requested an inkstone box and paper. We gave them to him. While his sword was being brought, Takuminokami pulled the inkstone box toward him, slowly rubbed the ink stick against the stone, took up the brush, and wrote:
Kaze sasou hana yori mo nao ware wa mata
haru no nagori o ikani toka sen
The wind seems to lure away the cherry blossoms as well,
but I – how shall I deal with what remains of spring?10
While we were having his sword handed to his second, Assistant Inspector Isoda Takeday, Takuminokami waited. Assistant Inspector
Mizuno Mokuzaemon received the poem above and brought it to Ukynoday, and while the latter was formally accepting it, Isoda,
the second, came out and reported that in accordance with the ancient custom he had done his seconding duty and witnessed
the completion of Takuminokami’s disembowelment.
It was understood that Ukynoday would handle Takuminokami’s corpse and other matters, so leaving the rest to him, everyone
left.
Okado Denpachir’s fears came true: the main branch of the Asano family, with holdings of 370,000 koku, remonstrated with
the government over its handling of Takuminokami, and Inspector-General Shda Yasutoshi, Governor of Shimofusa, was demoted,
according to the government records, in the eighth month of the same year. (Denpachir reports the demotion was ordered only
five days after the incident.)
Denpachir was also demoted, but in the next year, and the reasons are not clear. He himself thought that the action was taken
not only because he was importunate in his protestations, but also because when Shda and some others were demoted he had
wondered aloud why he was not being subjected to a similar treatment, and this probably offended some in higher positions.
Kajikawa Yosob (1647-1723), who seized and held down Takuminokami after the latter’s attempt to kill Kzukenosuke, was praised
by the government and his holdings were increased by 500 koku. But popular sentiment was against him on the grounds that he’d
prevented Takuminokami from carrying out his wishes.11
Around two on the afternoon of the day that Takuminokami attempted to kill Kzukenosuke, Hayami Tzaemon and Kayano Sampei,
from among Takuminokami’s retainers stationed in Edo, were dispatched to take the news to Ak; around nine in the evening,
two others, Hara Szaemon and ishi Sezaemon, followed, to tell of Takuminokami’s death by disembowelment. By taking one express
palanquin after another, without rest, these men covered the distance of 620 kilometers (380 miles) in four and a half days.
The news threw the Asano clan into turmoil and heated debate. The condemnation of a lord president to death by disembowelment
meant the government’s confiscation of his holdings and disenfranchisement of his retainers. The immediate question, which
had to be resolved before the government’s emissaries came, was how to respond to this measure honorably. House Administrators
ishi Kuranosuke and no Kurob, along with about 300 retainers of the Asano family, deliberated on the question day and night.
Three main arguments emerged. Some people spoke for a peaceful surrender of the castle, the symbol of daimyo rule, and an
equally peaceful dispersal of retainers. Some advocated putting up a fight against the government forces and, as they were
sure to lose, for all to kill themselves as the castle was taken. A third group argued for surrendering the castle and then
disemboweling themselves to follow their lord in death. Some, especially among those stationed in Edo, even insisted on attacking
Kira Kzukenosuke at once and killing him.
Disenfranchisement in most instances gave a samurai few prospects: He could either hope for a slim, uncertain chance of reemployment
with another clan, seek to establish himself in one of the few jobs thought worthy of samurai, such as teaching, or expect
at some point to abandon his samurai status to make a living as a commoner. On the other hand, the question of how to acquit
oneself honorably in the face of disgrace for himself or his lord gave a samurai only one choice: to eradicate the disgrace,
which often entailed death or, at the least, hardships of all kinds. (He could also decide to live with the disgrace, of course,
but that was no honor at all.) The prospect of taking such an action was evidently unpalatable to many Asano men: dispersal
began even before the final decision was made, and, a few days before the shogunate emissaries arrived to “receive” the castle,
no Korob, who held the rank of jdai gar, “acting lord president,” disappeared with a good deal of the money he had been entrusted with and other valuables.
In the end the course of action that emerged out of the third group’s argument was supported by ishi Kuranosuke and won the
allegiance of sixty-one retainers, including Kuranosuke himself and his twelve-year-old first son, Chikara: to surrender the
castle peacefully – ostensibly to seek to reestablish the Asano family, but with the understanding that they would kill Kira
Kzukenosuke. Even though some attempts were in fact made to reestablish the Asano family, killing Kzukenosuke was, it appears,
the focus from the outset. As Kuranosuke put it in one of his letters to a monk friend, “It would do no good to have [Takuminokami’s
brother] Daigaku pardoned [from his house-arrest status]…. As long as Kzukenosuke is allowed to serve the Shogun, if he were
put to work side by side with Daigaku, Daigaku would have nothing to show, no matter how admirably he might behave.”
So began a chain of secret plotting, feints, hardship, anguish, and sacrifice. And one year and eight months later, the killing was accomplished.
Hayashi Nobuatsu (1644-1732), in On Revenge.
Nobuatsu, also known as Hk, was an outstanding Confucian scholar who served as the first daigaku no kami, the superintendent of all scholarly activities under the Tokugawa Shogunate.
(The poem appended at the end and the commentary preceding it is the original editor’s addition.)
For their deceased lord ishi [Kuranosuke] and forty-five other samurai-retainers of a daimyo in the Western region banded
together to achieve a single aim and, on the fourteenth of the twelfth month of the fifteenth year of Genroku, carried out
their revenge and were taken prisoner. The shogun ordered some officials to investigate the matter in detail and consider
it closely; he then determined the nature of the crime, issued an order, and had the members of the band kill themselves.
Someone said: “The Three Relationships and the Five Bonds12 are the basis of courtesy and the principle of enlightenment, and their application does not change depending on the age, ancient or modern, or upon the place, distant or close. Further, our ancestral kings established laws and clarified regulations, spread them throughout the world, and transmitted them to us their heirs.
“In particular, the relationships between master and subject and between father and son are the essence of the Three Relationships, the basis of the Five Bonds, and the ultimate of Heaven’s Way and human ethics, and there is no place between heaven and earth where one can escape from them.13 Because of this those who compiled the Rites said, ‘One doesn’t live under the same heaven with the enemy of one’s master or father.14 That is, the urge emanates from a firm, irrepressible feeling; there’s nothing personal or private about it.
“In the circumstances, if you are not to allow revenge, you will in effect go against the law of our ancestral kings and wound the hearts of loyal subjects and filial sons. When it comes to killing avengers, it is worse than trampling upon the law and annulling the meaning of punishment. With such an action, how can you propose to improve human ethics?”
I replied: “The righteousness of revenge can be clearly seen in The Book of Rites and Rites of Chou, as well as in Spring and Autumn Annals; also, various Confucian scholars of T’ang and Sung debated it. An especially detailed discussion is given by Mr. Ch’iu in his supplement to the Lectures on Great Learning. Allow me to debate the matter from my own understanding of what is meant in various books and commentaries.
“If you debate it from the standpoint of the forty-six men, carrying out revenge with a resolve not to allow the enemy to live under the same heaven was something that they had to do by ‘sleeping on a coarse straw mattress with a sword for a pillow.’ To value one’s life and live with a disgrace is not a warrior’s way.
“If you debate it on the basis of law, anyone who breaks the law must be put to death. Even if the forty-six men were carrying out the will of their deceased lord, they could not have escaped the fact that they were breaking the law of the land. Their act was willful and defied the authorities. To arrest and put them to death for the general populace and their descendants to see was, therefore, a way of clarifying the nation’s legal foundations.
“True, the two standpoints are not in the same category, but they can exist as parallel without contradicting each other. Above are a humane ruler and wise counselors, and they clarify the law and issue orders; below are loyal subjects and righteous men, and they express their indignation and carry out their resolve. If because of the law the forty-six men had to submit themselves to death, as they did, why on earth should they have any regrets?
“Ancient men said, ‘When a peaceful rule lasts long, the people’s minds become lax.’ It is of course fortunate that we should now have a world comparable to that of Yao and Shun, and that the people should be prospering and enjoying themselves as never before. As a result, however, warriors throughout the land had begun to indulge in munificence and grow negligent, to gather in large numbers and idly chatter their time away, and to learn to be content to be gentle and mild.
“At such a time that incident occurred. It woke the men and excited them, made them realize that they must ever be ready to carry out a righteous action, that the ruler can have confidence in his subjects, and that subjects can be loyal to their ruler.
“Ah, the death of Wang Chu helped recover Ch’i,15 Yen Chen-ch’ing helped revive the T’ang Dynasty in ite mid-period.16 Those who speak loudly of these men now know what they’re talking about because of this incident. Those forty-six men were also outstanding men of the kind that appear once in a lifetime to enlighten the world. They should be discussed in the same breath with Yü Jang17 and T’ien Heng.”18
Mr. Hayashi also wrote a poem [with the heading: “Last year, on the fifteenth of the twelfth month, ishi Kuranosuke and forty-five
former subjects of Asano Takuminokami, with single-mindedness, avenged their lord and revived righteousness. This year, on
the forth of the second month, the government made a decision and by its order put them to death.”]
In breaking into the gate they bested Ching K’o.19
The wind is cold over the I-shui, a brave man’s heart.
Charcoal-mute, disfigured, they emulated Yu Jang.
Singing a shallot song in tears they carried T’ien Heng.
Sincerity piercing the sun, why regret death?
Righteous minds destroyed the mountains, their lives insignificant.
The forty-six men yielded themselves equally to the sword.
Heaven’s god cares little though they helped strengthen the loyal sense.
Sato Naokata (1650-1719), in On the Forty-Six Men.
A Confucian scholar, Naokata distinguished himself as a student of the Confucian scholar (and, later, Shintoist) Yamazaki Ansai (1618-82). But he broke with his mentor as he became a proponent of a purist Chu Hsi school.
Around two on the night of the fourteenth day of the twelfth month, of the fifteenth year of Genroku, Asano Takuminokami’s
retainers, ishi Kuranosuke and forty-five others, wearing helmets and armor and carrying bows, arrows, and spears, assaulted
Kira Kzukenosuke’s house, killed or injured many of his retainers, wounded his son Sahye, and beheaded Kzukenosuke. On
the morning of the fifteenth, they retreated to Sengaku Temple in Shiba, placed Kzukenosuke’s head in front of their lord,
and stayed there.
Even as they were retreating from Kzukenosuke’s residence, they dispatched Yoshida Chzaemon and Tomimori Suke’emon to the
house of Inspector-General Sengoku Hisanao, Governor of Hki, to inform him of what they had done, provide him with a letter,
and announce that they would await an order from the shogun. The shogun duly issued an order and placed the forty-six men
in the custody of Hosokawa Tsunatoshi, Governor of Etch, Hisamatsu (Matsudaira) Sadanao, Governor of Oki, Mizuno Kenmotsu,
and Mori Tsunamoto, Governor of Kai. On the fourth day of the second month, of the following year, an order was issued and
the executions of the men were carried out. The order said:
With respect to Asano Takuminokami, he was given the assignment of entertaining the imperial messengers. Nevertheless, he
became oblivious that he was in the palace and committed an intolerable act. As a result, he was punished by death, while
no measure was taken against Kira Kzukenosuke. On account of this, forty-six of Takuminokami’s retainers, vowing to avenge
their master, banded together, broke into Kzukenosuke’s house, carrying shooting equipment, and killed Kzukenosuke. We deem that this act shows no respect for
the authorities and that it is grave and intolerable. Accordingly, we order them to disembowel themselves.
The logic of this order is clear. That the shogun did not subject the men to a punishment reserved for felons but allowed them to disembowel themselves was an expression of shogunate compassion, and they should have considered themselves fortunate.
Nevertheless, worldly people, in their lightheaded clamor, assert that those forty-six men were loyal subjects and righteous men. Ignorant people are incapable of logical thinking, so we understand why they make such erroneous assertions. But even Mr. Hayashi, mourning their deaths, has composed a poem for them; comparing them with Yu Jang and T’ien Heng, he declared them to be righteous subjects. Furthermore, he has expressed his regrets over their deaths by writing, “They avenged their lord and revived righteousness.” All scholars accordingly join in a lightheaded clamor, and many among them regret the deaths of those men.
Some even say that the government’s decision was right and that the determination of the forty-six men was righteous. But
if the government’s decision was right, how could those men also be righteous? Such an argument is ludicrous because it errs
in failing to clarify the logic. If someone who reads the books by sages and wise men utters a single word of logical thinking,
worldly people regard him as their teacher. It is sad if he makes and spreads erroneous statements which confuse the minds
of ordinary people. That the forty-six men should have regarded Kzukenosuke as their master’s enemy – quoting, as they did,
“One doesn’t live under the same heaven with the enemy of one’s master or father”20 – was a great mistake. Kzukenosuke was not their enemy. He would have been if he had hurt Takuminokami.
Takuminokami struck at Kzukenosuke out of personal resentment and anger, thereby going against the Great Law. Because of
this the shogun condemned him to death. How can anyone think of “avenging” such a man? When we consider his feelings, of course, his resentment and anger may be entirely understandable,
but if he wanted to harm Kzukenosuke, he should have done that after his assignment was over and choosing a more appropriate
place. But he chose to violate the Great Law in the midst of the Great Imperial Rite of receiving the imperial messengers.
Worse, the way Takuminokami struck at Kzukenosuke, it was such a hasty, immature, cowardly deed. He drew his short sword
behind Kzukenosuke who was discussing something with Kajikawa Yosob, and slashed at him as he tried to run away. But the
wounds were too shallow to bring death to the man, and he himself was captured by Kajikawa. With no courage and no skill,
Takuminokami is merely a fellow to be laughed at. It’s quite fitting that he should have been condemned to death, and his
castle and other properties confiscated.
On his part, Kzukenosuke wouldn’t draw his short sword but simply fell in consternation, his face pale, prompting samurai
throughout the land to laugh at him. His reaction was worse than death, an utter disgrace. Why should the shogun have punished
him? Evidently he wasn’t an enemy worthy of vengeance.
Nonetheless, those forty-six men, rather than sorrowing over the great crime of their master, decided to go against the shogunate will: They equipped themselves with weapons and used passwords and identification marks as in a battlefield to make the killing. That, too, was a great crime. Still, if, after they carried out their killing single-mindedly, preoccupied as they were with the thought of their deceased lord’s fury – if, after that, they had reflected on the crime of having gone against the shogunate will and committed suicide at Sengaku Temple – while they wouldn’t have acted in accordance with law, they would at least have deserved our pity.
Instead, they reported their act to Inspector-General Sengoku, saying that they would await a shogunate order. Also, in the letter they provided they said they respected shogunate authority, and to Sengoku himself the first thing they said was that they respected shogunate authority. What could these things have meant other than a scheme to win praise, escape death, and gain employment? Having violated the Great Law and gone against shogunate authority, they had nothing to report on, nothing for which to await an order. What they did was not what those prepared to die would do. These men rose out of the anger that they had been made masterless wanderers; they employed calculation and conspiracy to carry out their aim. They did what they did not mainly out of loyalty, not because of acute pain.
Someone who calls himself a samurai must think out things in detail and state his case clearly, so that he may relieve worldly
people of their confusions. When you contemplate this question further, there certainly is good reason why people throughout
the land agree, albeit in unthinking fashion, that those forty-six men were righteous subjects. Kzukenosuke was born to be
greedy, and he was detested by everyone for his arrogance, conceit, and evil mind. As a result, people didn’t think of Takuminokami’s
crime but pitied his death instead, while hating Kzukenosuke for continuing to live. So, when told that he was killed, all
erupted with rejoicing and called the forty-six men righteous subjects.
Ah, because of the evil ways of Kzukenosuke, so many people were killed, Edo was disturbed, and people became confused. Kzukenosuke
is the one to be hated.
An anonymous samurai, in On the Forty-Six Men
Not Being Righteous Subjects.
Though I don’t understand logic and other profundities that come from learning, if you look at it from the standpoint of the normal resolve of a samurai today, there isn’t much you can’t understand about it. About what happened to Asano and because of his action, people argue: “It was a quarrel,” “No, it wasn’t,” “It was a vendetta,” “No, it wasn’t.” But aside from such arguments … for a samurai to avenge his lord is quite natural. A samurai who can’t is a coward….
Some townsfolk, because of the way they feel, may think that those men did something that was hard to do, and so run around saying, “They’re loyal subjects, they’re righteous men.” But if a samurai says, “Well, they surely did something that was hard to do,” and goes on to praise them, that, to me, is incomprehensible. If a samurai goes further and composes poems and things in praise of them, thinking, They’re godsends, I’d like to be a loyal and righteous samurai like them myself, that’s being truly dumb. Anyone who doesn’t have the resolve to avenge his master or father is no samurai at all, is what I think. Those samurai who praise these men to the skies, thinking they did something rare, do so because they have no resolve to speak of.
Scholars who argue this or that are also incomprehensible to me. If those men had killed their enemy when [as some scholars argue] he actually wasn’t their enemy, they either were utterly brainless or did it for profit. If, on the other hand, they killed him because he surely was the enemy of their lord, there was nothing difficult or hard to do in what they did. Yet they say they were godsends for samurai, contrive to acquire swords and spears of the forty-six men, and visit their graves to pay their respects. What in the world they’re thinking just beats me.
I would kill someone who’s the enemy of my master or father anytime. I wouldn’t even bother to be cautious and wear a body-protector or carry shooting equipment….21
I can’t speak for townsfolk. But why is it that unmistakable samurai are dithering so? If they really thought that avenging one’s master or father was such a big deal, what’s the point of working for their masters as they do? All this strikes me as funny.
Myself, I know no books or anything, I’m just a regular samurai. Scholars have investigated the matter deeply, I guess, and I’d like to hear what they have to say.
Asami Yasusada (1652-1711), in On the Forty-Six Men.
Also known as Keisai, Yasusada, like Naokata, distinguished himself under the tutelage of Yamazaki Ansai. However, after criticizing his teacher, he severed his relationship with him.
The story of the vendetta by the men of Ak, Harima, is of course known throughout the land. But it appears that doubts are
expressed from time to time: Even though there is no room for debate about what the forty-six men did for their master, some
have said that in killing someone whom the government allowed to live in a state of grace, they proved themselves disloyal
to the government. This argument has produced a variety of strained theories. From a number of places people have written
to me to ask if this or that interpretation is right or wrong or better or worse….
Kzukenosuke, as chief officer for Great Imperial Rites and for the shogunate, appears not to have cared, because of his personal
greed and willfulness, whether or not Takuminokami committed clumsy errors, and made him disgrace himself in front of people in the Palace of Splendor. This infuriated Takuminokami and made
him do what he did. Fundamentally, Kzukenosuke’s crime of taking advantage of shogunate authority and acting as he pleased
was of the kind that should not have been allowed to stand without punishment by death. Even if Takuminokami had not struck
at him first, he should not have escaped that crime. If the penalty did not go as far as death, he should have resigned his
post; or he should have been stripped of his holdings.
On Takuminokami’s part, that he was unable to bear personal anger and, becoming oblivious of the place of governance and the
Great Imperial Rite, behaved impulsively, was his extraordinary fault. Nevertheless, he had not a speck, not a trace of ill
will, against the government authority. Also, the government apart, it was not as if he had a tendency to forget himself.
His fury had been building up for days, and when he was made to suffer another disgrace that day, he had no time to think
of the past and future, but slashed at Kzukenosuke. But the man ran, while at the same time Takuminokami himself was held
back by someone else. Things happened so suddenly that he could not carry out his aim to the end.
Had Takuminokami been able to slash up the man to his heart’s content, he would have killed himself on the spot. Or, if he had somehow been prevented from killing himself, he would of course have understood that he would receive a shogunate punishment of death.
From the viewpoint of the Great Law, the law to be applied was the one that holds that the two parties involved in a personal
quarrel are equally punishable. If you say that Takuminokami had to be punished for having disturbed the place for a Great
Imperial Rite, it must be pointed out that he did not do so for no reason, but that all that happened was because of Kzukenosuke’s
personal willfulness. It follows that if Takuminokami was to be punished, as he was, then Kzukenosuke should also have been
punished. Yet, even though Takuminokami was put to death because of his crime of disturbing the place for a Great Imperial
Rite, the other party, Kzukenosuke, was let go without any kind of penalty. It follows – and let there be no room for further
argument about this – that Takuminokami must be said to have been killed by Kzukenosuke. In the circumstances, if those who
considered themselves Takuminokami’s subjects had not acted to kill Kzukenosuke to carry out what their master had wanted
to do with his sword, the Great Cause would never have been served.
It is evident, however, that all ishi did was to kill his master’s enemy as the master had wanted to, and that he had not
a speck, not a trace, of an intention to interfere with the shogunate…. ishi and his men did not kill themselves [after their
aim was achieved], but left the disposition of their lives to the shogun. That shows they perfectly understood their master’s
loyalty to the shogun, the way he had always held him in highest respect. As these men’s intentions gradually became clear,
the government punished Kzukenosuke’s heir for disloyalty and treated the forty-six men with lenience; it did not condemn
their relatives to death and even allowed the men to choose a place for their graves….
Someone said: “Those men killed Kzukenosuke because Takuminokami failed to kill him. But Kzukenosuke never tried to kill
Takuminokami. In the circumstances it was wrong for those men to call Kzukenosuke their master’s enemy.”
… If your master failed to kill someone and he was killed as a result, who would you call your enemy if not that someone? Instances of reasoning of this nature are too numerous to list.
Someone said: “Takuminokami was poor at swordsmanship. His failure to carry out the killing is embarrassing. He would have been of no use to the shogun.”22
This is also ridiculous. Even if he had been good at swordsmanship and killed the man instantly, what good would that have
been? Aside from this, he was upset by the suddenness of it all; at the same time Kzukenosuke ran away, and there was even
someone who held him down. In similar circumstances there have been many instances in which the killing failed. If you say
Takuminokami should have been punished as a useless fellow, how useful was the cowardly Kzukenosuke who ran away? This type
of argument is made not to fault the shogunate administrators’ decision, but to pretend that it was all good….23
There is also someone’s theory, which is a particularly despicable argument. He says that the forty-six men couldn’t gain employment anywhere, so they contrived this vendetta as part of their plan to seek stipends. If there ever has been an ugly thing said about this, this is it.
From the very beginning to the end, these men, without exception, had given up their lives and even written their wills. Yet here’s a man who says an ugly thing that a dealer in scrap iron might say. He must want to erase these men with his words.
Think of it: These forty-six men were going to break into a great mansion of a man of some stature with many of his retainers staying with him, along with prominent members of his family. How could any one of them hope to return alive?24 How is it possible to say that they wanted to win stipends? It is an utterly unenlightened argument….
Someone said: “The forty-six men formed a large group, equipped themselves with weapons, and used passwords and identification marks, as if fighting in a battlefield. That was a great crime. What do you say to that?”
I say: “If you put it that way, it may sound as if these men were acting to defy the shogunate authority. But even if you make it sound as if they formed an army, a small group of men were stealing into a mansion of a man of stature with the determination not to fail to kill the enemy of their lord, so they could not help making those preparations. They had no intention of defying government authority or disturbing it.
“Even when you try to kill your parent’s enemy, you may end up creating a commotion, depending on your opponent or on the place, but that is not part of your intention. If this is the case, if you think only about government authority and fail to kill the enemy, you’ll have to say that thoughts of your master or father are secondary to you.
“Further, the way these men had made their plans, they gave no trouble to the neighboring mansions and, once inside the targeted mansion, tried not to kill anyone who gave them no trouble. Also, as they left the house, they took care lest a fire break out by accident. If you accuse such men of defiance of the government simply because of their military outfit, you are deliberately ignoring what they truly wanted to do.
“On the whole, when it comes to a great accomplishment like this, you should see the true intent and forgive the few errors that may have been made, so that a loyal, righteous act may not be marred. Because it was during the night, without passwords confusion might have ensued. In case the enemy tried to escape over the fence, shooting equipment was needed. If you are wounded, you won’t be able to kill the enemy, so they were right in wearing body-protectors.
“Suppose ishi and his son alone had stolen inside in ordinary garb and struck and killed Kzukenosuke, would the shogun have
said ‘You have done nothing wrong,’ and let them be?”
This may be a good place to look at the government’s treatment of some of the relatives of those involved in the vendetta.
The forty-six men had a total of nineteen sons; four of these, who were fifteen years old or older, were exiled, but pardoned three years later. The others were also to be exiled as they reached fifteen years of age. But they all took Buddhist vows because this exempted them from exile. These treatments were considered very mild in an age when punishment by association was standard and the example of Fang Hsiao-ju (1357-1402) was often cited with approval. Fang, a scholar of the early Ming Dynasty, refused to falsify a statement for a usurping king. As a result, not only he himself but all his relatives, from closest to remotest, numbering several hundred, were hunted out and killed.
Kzukenosuke’s adopted son (actually grandson), Yoshichika, was seriously wounded during the fight, but he was stripped of
his holdings on the ground that he did not fight to the death to protect his father. He then was placed in the custody of
a local daimyo as a semi-criminal and died of his wounds four years later. Less unfortunate, Yoshichika’s actual father, Tsunanori,
who had been adopted out to inherit the Uesugi family, merely “retired” during the same year, though he was still in his early
forties.
All of the forty-six men expressed the wish to be buried at Sengaku Temple, which had Takuminokami’s grave. Their wish was honored by the government.
Dazai Shundai (1680 – 1747), in On the Forty-Six Men of Ak.
Shundai began studying with the Confucian scholar Ogy Sorai (1666-1728) in 1711, almost a decade after the incident. Sorai
had a great influence on Shogun Tsunayoshi through his friend, Administrator Yanagizawa Yoshiyasu. It was he who recommended death by disembowelment for the forty-six men, which was adopted as the government’s
verdict. Shundai, in writing the following commentary some years after Sorai’s death, makes the point of noting, in a passage
not translated, that his view accorded with that of his teacher.
Interestingly, Shundai confesses that at first and for many years later he was a great admirer of what the forty-six men did, but had a change of heart when he developed the reasons given in the first paragraphs translated below.
Shundai said: “…In life, you can’t tell in the morning what might happen in the evening.25 Who could have known that Kira would not die and therefore waited until the winter of the next year? If Kira had died before the winter of the next year, how could
the Ak warriors have accomplished what they did? In the event, would they have shaved their heads and become monks, escaped
to islands in the sea,26 or dug up his grave and whipped his corpse in the manner of Wu Tzu-hsu?27
“… I hear that the law laid down by the Founder28 says that anyone who kills a person in Edo Castle is to be punished with death. The lord of Ak merely wounded Kira. His
crime did not deserve death. But the government gave him death, an excessive punishment. The subjects of the lord of Ak should
have resented this fact, if anything. But ishi and his men did not resent what they should have, but resented Kira. What
they resented was insignificant.
“In general, those who serve a local lord should obey him, holding the national ruler in awe, as long as the national ruler is courteous to their own lord. But if, unfortunately, the national ruler is not courteous to their lord, they must resent the national ruler. This is because for the subjects of a local lord he is the only one who counts….
“Also, for the warrior of Japan there is a way. The moment he sees his lord’s [wrongful] death, he is expected to become profoundly disturbed and in that deranged state dash out straight to the enemy’s place. [If he is killed as a result] the death itself is regarded as righteous. Whether the act is right or wrong is never asked. From the viewpoint of a man of humane wisdom such a death is bound to be wasteful, but this way has existed from the beginning of this nation….
“ishi and his men did not resent what they should have, but resented Kira and, in their action, were content to hold the
national ruler in awe. Not only did they not know the correct ruler-subject relationship, but they also lost sight of what the warriors of this nation hold as their way.
All this is a great pity.”
The guest asked: “In that case, what should the warriors of Ak have done?”
Shundai said: “Nothing could have been better for them than to die at Ak Castle…. They should have come out of the castle
and engaged in battle with the government emissaries. Then, retreating into the castle, they should have set fire to it, and
everyone should have killed himself. When their corpses had burned up with the castle, it could have been said that the Ak
men had done all they could….
“If for some reason it was not possible for them to die at Ak Castle, they should have gone to Edo at once and, with all
the troops available, attacked Kira. If they won the engagement, they thereupon should have killed themselves; if they lost,
the same. The unifying element should have been death. Through it they would have discharged their responsibility.
“Yet ishi and his men were unable to do either. Instead, they waited leisurely and, employing idle conspiracies and secrecy,
tried to kill Kira. What they had in mind was to achieve their aim, establish their reputation, and thereby seek fame and
fortune. How unurbane of them! In the circumstances, it was lucky for the Ak warriors that Kira hadn’t died before their
attack.
“Then, too, when ishi and his men killed Kira and offered his head to the grave of their lord, they had achieved their aim,
they had discharged their responsibility. If an ordinary man kills a shogunate aide, he is accorded death for that crime.
In the event, there at that temple, those forty-six men should have killed themselves. Why then did they await a government
order?
“They were unable to kill themselves but surrendered themselves to the government because they must have thought: We have accomplished a difficult task. If, fortunately, we are not forced to die, we will not die; obtaining employment and rank should then be as easy as bending down and picking up dust from the ground. If, unfortunately, we are to die, we will die by law. It shouldn’t be too late to die then. Why then should we kill ourselves now? If this kind of thinking doesn’t make them men seeking fame and fortune, what does? How unurbane of them! …”
Yokoi Yay (1702–83), in A Hick’s Talk.
A samurai and haiku poet, Yay is especially known for a collection of haibun, called Uzura-goromo (Quail’s Robe).29
Born in the same year that the vendetta took place, Yay is thought to have written this commentary when he was sixty or older.
In the prologue, he tells us that Kusaku, his “urine collector,” happened to go to Edo and pick up a pamphlet on the forty-six
men by a scholar called Dazai Shundai. He was “flabbergasted” reading it, so brought it back for Yay to take a look. The
title of Yay’s piece shows his obvious pique at Shundai’s condemnation of the presumed thinking and action of ishi and his
men as “unurbane.”
“In life, you can’t tell in the morning what might happen in the evening. Who would have known that Kira would not die, and therefore waited until the winter of the next year? If Kira had died before the winter of the next year, how could
the Ak warriors have accomplished what they did?” etc.
Then he [Dazai] went on to say, “If their enemy had died before the winter, would the forty-six warriors have shaved their heads and become monks or whipped his corpse? If they’d done anything like that, I’d say they’d have made themselves laughingstocks throughout the land.”
What kind of thinking is this?
Sure, it’s always true that you can’t count on anybody living forever, but this “always” is part of the changeability of it all. So, once you start worrying about everything in advance, you can’t lend anybody any money, you can’t make a marriage promise. Of course, if it had been a vendetta that took five to seven years, you might accuse them of procrastination, but they merely waited until the winter of the next year, and that they did, seeking the right timing and working out the plot so they wouldn’t fail in the killing.
In Mr. Dazai’s way of thinking, he seems to think that they should have attacked regardless of everything and, win or lose, died on the spot, as he said further on. In the end he failed to grasp the true intent of the forty-six men.
After all, Lord Asano, unable to bear his resentment and anger, decided to kill Lord Kira and die himself, in the sure knowledge that that would bring down his own house, and caring for nothing else, struck, but failed to kill. As a result, he alone had to die and have his house destroyed, while his enemy went on living. The thought that mortification must be eating the marrow of his bones, that the anguish must be making him turn in his grave, was what his loyal subjects could not bear, and that’s why they carried out the vendetta.
In the circumstances, if, following Mr. Dazai’s way of thinking, they put forward only their momentary righteousness and behaved like a dog snapping at you, and if, as a result, they alone were again the ones to die, Lord Kira would have been able to sleep in even greater peace, with nothing to fear, while Lord Asano would have been left with a greater mortification to nurse under the grasses. That surely couldn’t have been their true intent.
For example, suppose a general who was ordered to destroy an imperial enemy thought that he wouldn’t be able to establish his reputation if the enemy died of illness; suppose, therefore, that even before lining up his army or setting up defenses, he alone hastily dashed into the enemy land, brandishing his sword, and was killed, would the emperor praise him as his loyal subject? No, that certainly would make him a laughingstock throughout the land.
Rather, he must first solidly line up his forces and work out a strategy that will not fail him; only then can he invade the enemy land so that he may take the enemy’s head according to plan and thereby lay the imperial worries to rest. That, I think, is the way a loyal subject must behave. If the enemy dies of illness in the meantime, all that has to be done is to cancel the expedition, and that won’t be any disgrace to the general at all….
The forty-six warriors had no resentment whatever against Lord Kira. Their lord’s death by disembowelment was caused by his own rashness, not by Lord Kira. What these men did was to carry out what their deceased lord had intended to do so that they might lay to rest his resentment in his grave. That’s why after they showed Lord Kira’s head to him in his grave at Sengaku Temple they placed it on a ceremonial tray and handed it over to the monk. And when Chikara in his youthful thoughtlessness said something foul to the head, [his father] Kuranosuke sternly admonished him that you shouldn’t behave rudely to a nobleman even when he has been beheaded. They had no personal anger.
The way they upheld righteousness – how can anyone bring up the notion of whipping a corpse? Their basic thinking was fundamentally different from that of Wu Tzu-hsu. It was also very different from someone becoming envious of someone else’s great reputation and speaking ill of him. All this is so embarrassing it makes my armpits perspire….