The Shrine of the Jinnai-bashi
It was one of those small Fudō temples, tucked away on a shelf of the hillside just above the roadway, embowered in trees, with its tiny fall and rock basin for the enthusiastic sinner bathing in the waters of this bitterly cold day. The whole construction of shrine, steep stone steps, and priestly box for residence, so compactly arranged with the surrounding Nature as to be capable of very decent stowage into a case—much like those of the dolls of the third or fifth month. The nearest neighbour was the Shichimen-shi—the seven faced Miya—in this district so dotted even to day with ecclesiastical remnants, from Takénotsuka to Hanabatakémura on the north edge of Edo—Tōkyō. However it was not one of their resident priests who stood at the rōka of the incumbent cleric seeking a night's lodging. The kindly oldish dōmori (temple guardian) looked him over. Nearly fifty years of age, two teeth lacking in the front, his head shaved bald as one of the stones from the bed of the Tonégawa, a tired hard eye, thin cruel and compressed lips added nothing to the recommendation of the rosary (juzu) and pilgrim's staff (shakujō) grasped in hand; and indeed the whole air of the man savoured of the weariness of debauch, and of strife with things of this world rather than of battles against its temptations. Yet the wayfarer was greeted with kindness, his tale of woe heard. His own quarters—a flourishing tribute to the mercies of the eleven-faced Kwannon, with a side glance at Amida—had gone up in smoke the day before. Naught remained but the store-house, with its treasure of sutra scrolls and hastily removed ihai of deceased parishioners. The disaster was not irreparable. His enthusiastic followers already sought to make good the damage. Himself he would find aid from the cult in Edo.
Kosaka Jinnai, for the unfortunate cleric was none else, seated himself in the comfortable quarters of the dōmori, to earn his shelter by a talk which in interest richly repaid the meagre fare, and made amends for no prepossessing exterior. On his pleading weariness the dōmori got out futon and spread a couch for the guest. This suited Jinnai's real purpose, which was not to loiter close to Edo and Aoyama's claws, but to push on that night toward Tsukuba and old friends, and recent ones he knew he would find on its none too savoury slopes. But Heaven does not permit the wicked a continued license in ill deeds. The weariness and indisposition pleaded, in part genuine, rapidly grew worse. The chilled feeling passed into its palpable and physical exposition. With alarm the dōmori watched the progress of this ailment. His hot drinks and solicitude would not produce the needed perspiration. Instead the chill was followed by high fever and delirium. The medical man, summoned from the village, was taking leave—"A plain case of ague from Shimosa's swamps. Is he friend or relative of the honoured Shukké Sama? No?... Alas! A case of resting under the shade of the same tree; of drinking from the same stream.[30] Deign to have a care with this fellow. He says strange things, and raves of robbery and strife—'I am Kosaka Jinnai; the famous Jinnai.' Truly you are to be pitied at being saddled with such a guest. Doubtless it is affliction for some deed committed in a previous life, a connection of two worlds between the honoured Shukké Sama and this doubtful guest."
The dōmori was an old and foolish fellow; but still able to catch the warning tone and manner of the leech. With anxiety he went to his guest. Jinnai was sleeping under influence of the draught administered, and on the word of the medical man was insured for some hours unconsciousness under the drug. Placing food and drink close to hand, out into the darkness went the sturdy old chap. The day saw him at Harajuku-mura, wandering around the site of ashes and charred beams of the late conflagration. No sign of renovation was there found. For satisfaction and a meal he turned to the benches of a near-by eating shed. His inquiries confirmed his own fears and aroused the suspicions of others. "Truly the honoured Bōzu San must live far from this part of Edo. These ruins are of no temple. Here stood the fencing room of one Osada Jinnai, a rōnin. This fellow turned out to be a famous bandit and escaped criminal; no less a person than the Kosaka Jinnai engaged in the attempt of years ago to carry off or slay the Tenju-in-Den of the suzerain's House. Heaven's vengeance long since visited the others. Now Aoyama Dono seeks this fellow. Is he friend or relative that thus inquiry is made?" The dōmori in fright cut short his meal and questions. Paying his scot he made off in a hurry. Soon after one of Shūzen's spies passing, he was informed of the matter. Then the hue and cry was raised through the ranks to find this suspicious cleric.
From Jinnai the dōmori got little satisfaction on return at dark. He found him sitting, with natural and restored presence, smoking, and measuring him with the cold cynical glance which froze the marrow in his spine. "Ha! Ah! The honoured Shukké Sama wanders far and long." The priest did not attempt to conceal fright or mission—"Honoured guest, the poor quarters of this foolish cleric are open to the afflicted of his kind. But Kosaka Dono, deign at once to remove from here. Already the yakunin are on the trail. Yourself, in the mad fits, you make no concealment of name and exploits. Found here, discredit is brought upon the Buddha, and ruin to this his follower. Condescend at once to seek other quarters." He looked earnestly and pleadingly at the bandit chief, with squawking groan to lower his head almost to the tatami. Jinnai's eye went through him in his cold wrath—"Be assured of it; that I am Kosaka Jinnai; and hence one without fear. Let the yakunin come—to their own destruction. These quarters just suit this Jinnai—for the time. Cowardly and foolish cleric, you would prattle and bring trouble on yourself with that wheel of a tongue. Then get you hence. This Jinnai undertakes the charge and exercise of the weapons of the furious god. Bah! They are but of wood." To the horror of the priest he gave the wooden Fudō which adorned the chamber such a whack that the unfortunate and flawed divinity parted into its aged fragments. "What! You still delay!" A hand of iron was laid on the old fellow's neck. Jinnai bent him to the ground. He looked around for implement. None was better to hand than part of the outraged god. Holding firm his victim, and raising his robes, a vigorous hand applied to the priest's cushions such a drubbing as he had not had since childhood's days. Then grasping him neck and thigh Jinnai cast him out onto the rōka and down the steps which led to it. The old fellow heard the amado close tight with noise. Thus the unwilling god entered on the service of this new satellite.
The hue and cry was loud. In the cold of the night the dōmori wandered, afraid in his shame and trouble to approach parishioners; afraid in the chill outside air to sleep. A hail came to his ears—"Sir priest, have you not dropped coin?" Ah! Here was a stranger; and his tale he did unfold. Parlous his case; and for him the sky was upside down. "Most lucky! At our place to-day a prayer of hyakumanban (memorial service) is to be held. Food, sleep, and counsel, wide enough for this weariness and distress are offered. Deign to go in company." Thus the spy led him to his officer, a yoriki established at Fuchiémura in the attempt to net this desperate fellow. With joy the news of Jinnai's close proximity was heard. Entrusting the tired and barely conscious priest to the village head-man, officer, dōshin, and yakunin set out. Jinnai had overrated his capacity. Again the fit was strong on him. He shook and shivered, helpless under the weight of every covering he could find, and dared not move or turn in fear of the chill aroused. Then at the outside came the shout—"His lordship's business! Make no resistance; submit at once to the rope, in hope to secure grace." The yakunin roughly broke down the doors of the priest's house. They found Jinnai on foot. Growled he—"You are not the kind to face Jinnai. A rush—to freedom; with such of you as stand for carrion." He boasted overmuch. His fit was too strong even for such iron resolution. The crisis of the fever was at hand, and his legs bent under him. A shove from behind sent him weakly sprawling in a heap. Then they all fell on him, bound him hand and foot, and carried him to the village.
The cortege halted on its way to Edo town. Loud had been the lamentation of the unfortunate dōmori. He was a ruined priest. At best a witness, perhaps to be regarded and tortured as the accomplice of this desperate villain; jail or the execution ground awaited him. He plead with this one and with that. With sympathy they heard, but in stolid silence. The spy, who had accosted him, knew the old man well—holy, pure, somewhat simple and guileless of mind, he was object of reverence and gentle derision of the parishioners who sought his service in every trouble. The man spoke to the dōshin, explained the matter. The dōshin took him to the yoriki seated beneath a tea shed. The officer nodded; then called for the report. "There is an error of transcription." Thus he altered the characters 辻堂 to 辻捕. Instead of tsujidō a cross road temple, now it read "taken at the cross roads"—"Call the old man here." To the priest—"Through no fault of yours has this man visited you. Be better advised as to other guests.... But now—take this coin. This man's course is run. He surely will be ordered to the execution ground. Great has been his wickedness, and his grudge is not to be visited on others. Prayers are to be said for his soul in the next world. The dōmori of the Fudō, his zeal and honesty, his purity of heart and manners are vouched for by those who know. Pray for him.... Now—get you hence!" He put a gold koban in the priest's hand, allowed the joyful reverence, and cut short the protests of inconvenient gratitude. The dōshin shoved him off to the rear. The friendly spy carried him apart and pointed to a path running through the fields behind the houses of the hamlet. None cared to observe his departure. Thus Jinnai came to Edo, minus his ghostly purveyor.
First carefully was his body nourished for the coming entertainment. With clement genial smile Aoyama Shūzen claimed the acquaintance of this one time antagonist. As to the past and recent events there was no doubt. Aoyama had hazy, but little confirmed, ideas of greater objects; knowing as he did the early nature and history of Jinnai. But the Tokugawa were now so firmly seated. Confession was to be secured in the first place, to legalize the execution; and information in the second place, if such existed. Of confession there was none; not even answer. Jinnai closed tight his lips in scorn. Then first he was scourged; the scourging of he who is already condemned. The stout fellows stood forward with their madaké; those thin slips of rattan, two feet in length, wrapped into a bundle an inch in thickness with stout hempen cord. Ah! How flexible and painful! As they laid on quickly the welts and bloody stripes appeared. At the hundred and fiftieth blow the medical man and legal procedure demanded forbearance. He was removed. "Cure his back!" roared Shūzen. "Rub salt into the cuts. Next time the tender surface will force at least words from his lips." But he underestimated his man. Bound to a stake, with arms behind, kneeling on the sharp grids, Jinnai hugged the stones—five, six, seven—Chūdayu leaped down to aid the dōshin in pressing down the weight of nearly eight hundred pounds resting between chin and doubled hams. The body of Jinnai grew lobster red, his lips were tinged with bloody foam and gouts appeared. The hours passed. The black colour of the feet rose upwards. Then the sign was given and the man taken away in a dead faint, without the utterance of word or groan.
Thus the game went on. Now it was the lobster. Aoyama would not go to the prison, nor miss the sight. For a whole morning with curiosity he watched the progress of the torture. Jinnai lay on a mat. Arms pulled tight to the shoulders and behind the back, the legs drawn together in the front and dragged up to the chin. The body at first had the dark red of a violent fever, but the sweat which covered it was cold as ice. Then the colour darkened to a purple, changed to an ominous blackish green. Suddenly it began to whiten. In alarm the doctor ordered relief. With wrath Shūzen rose from his camp chair close by; still no confession.
What was suspension to this? Jinnai hung limp as a dangling fish from the beam. Arms drawn behind his back and upward to the shoulders, a weight added to the feet made any movement of the limbs agony to the whole body. It was a sort of prolonged crucifixion. When blood began to ooze from the toes again removal was ordered. Of the latter part of the torture Jinnai knew little. He was unconscious. This hardy body of his was adding to his torments. Even Shūzen could not help admiring this obstinate courage. He would try one other means—flattery; genuine in its way. "Useless the torture, Jinnai, as is well known with such a brave man. But why prolong this uselessness? Done in the performance of official duty, yet it is after all to our entertainment. Make confession and gain the due meed of the fear of future generations, their admiration and worship of such thorough paced wickedness. Surely Jinnai is no ordinary thief. Shūzen never can be brought to believe him such." He spoke the last somewhat in scorn. At last Jinnai was touched with anger. He opened eyes, and, for the first time, mouth—"Aoyama Dono speaks truth. But why regret past failure? My followers? They number thousands. Why rouse envy or show favour by giving name of this or that lusty fellow? The object? As to that exercise your wits. Fat wits; which in these twenty years could not hunt out this Jinnai. Ah! 'Twas but this unexpected illness which played this evil trick; else Jinnai never would have faced Shūzen; except sword in hand. This Jinnai is a thief, a bandit; the tongue grudges to say. Such is his confession. Not a word more—to Aoyama Uji." He closed his eyes and mouth. Enraged at the failure and familiarity Aoyama shouted out—"The wooden horse! The water torture!" They mounted the man on the sharp humped beast. Lungs, belly, abdomen wide distended, in every physical agony, his body could but writhe, to add to the torture of his seat as they dragged down on his legs. Eyes starting wildly from his head, gasping for air, the unfortunate wretch was given the chance to belch forth the liquid. "Atsu!" The cry was between a sigh and a yelp of agony. Then he fainted. With chagrin at his failure Aoyama Shūzen put official seal to the confession bearing the thumb print of Kosaka Jinnai. Thus ended this phase of the contest between the two men.
Jinnai's body was too racked by the torture for immediate sentence. When he was brought in the court Aoyama Shūzen had another wicked surprise to spring upon him. Jinnai's rejuvenating eye noted the band of peasants, the two beautiful girls brought captive in their midst. He knew at once who they were; even if the viciously triumphant look in Shūzen's eyes, the piteous fright and affectionate sympathy in theirs, had not enlightened him. The presence of O'Kiku and O'Yui was due to an ill freak played by fortune. In the fall of the year an illness of the mother—cold?—came to its end and herself with it. What was to be done with farm and girls? To the villagers this question was of serious debate. Of one thing they were in dense ignorance. Three years before a new farm hand appeared in Jisuké's household, and men could well wonder at the favour he found with the old man. With some misgivings they had warned him against recklessly introducing a strange muko, without first consent of the village. Jisuké assured them against what was actual fact. Wataru Sampei was a samurai, of samurai stock, and liegeman to his own old masters of Kai province. It was with the consent and approval of the dying man that O'Kiku was united to him. The household in Nippon is adamant in its secrets to the outside world—and that against the most prying curiosity anywhere found. O'Kiku lay in of her child and nursed the babe in her own nurse's house. Thus in full ignorance the council met to consider the request made by the girls to communicate with Jinnai—Osada Sensei—at the famous yashiki of Aoyama.
Most of them were ready to consent. Then rose one Jinémon, smarting under the sense of having fields adjacent, coupled with flat refusal to his son of the simple girl O'Kiku. He suspected this virginity of nearly twenty years; and with an ill turn to this obstacle might do himself a good one. "Take heed, good sirs, what counsel ye come to. News fresh from Edo couples the name of Osada Sensei with Kosaka Jinnai; makes him out a violent bandit and would be ravisher years ago of the Tenju-in-Den. Surely his fate will be hard. Send them to the yashiki of Aoyama—but to that of Aoyama Shūzen Dono. Thus their request is met; and no blame incurred. The honoured bugyō (magistrate) answers for the district (Aoyama), and the girls will not suspect the destination. Otherwise, look well to yourselves. Aoyama Sama is known as the Yakujin. Great his influence in Edo, and sour his wrath as that of Emma Dai-Ō. It will fall heavy on you." This intimation, that he would do what they would avoid, soured all the milk of human kindness. Wataru Sampei, departed in all haste to Edo, returned in fright to announce his discovery of the state of affairs. The father Jinnai then was undergoing the harsh tortures of Shūzen. He found the farm in charge of Jinémon and his son; the two girls already sent in all ignorance to the yashiki of Aoyama. Receiving a harsh dismissal he dared not punish, from the house and tears of the old nurse he received as if by theft his infant son. With him he took his way to Edo; to establish himself as gardener at Honjō Koumé; or at Narihira, some say.
In daily rounds of the jail the dōshin stood over Jinnai. In three days this man was to go to Torigoébashi. Here he was to be crucified and speared—"with many spears" ran the sentence, to indicate the prolongation of the torture. "Jinnai, you have shown yourself brave, have refused to name even one associate. The time passes. Perhaps some wish, not incompatible with duty, comes to mind." Jinnai opened his eyes at the unexpected kindly tone and words. It was as if one soldier looked into the eyes of his compeer on the battle field, as well could be the case with this man older and of more regular experience than himself. The answer came with the measured slowness of an earnest thanks and appreciation—"The offer comes from a kind heart, shown on previous occasions.... There are women held here." He hesitated. "Deign the last cup of cold water at their hands." The officer did not refuse. O'Kiku and O'Yui knelt beside the couch on which lay the broken body of the father. Said Jinnai—"The end is most unseemly; words grudge to speak that mere accident thus should determine the fate of Kosaka Jinnai; he who sought to determine the fate of Tokugawa Ke. A dagger would have secured the fitting ending, that you two should not bear the public service of the town, a certain fate. This remedy Jinnai now forbids. With life changes occur; old scores are wiped out. Hearken well: live with patience; serve well to the hour. Now the last cup of life is to be drained; this first meeting brought to an end." Tears running down her face O'Yui, mere child budding into womanhood, presented to her sister the vessel never used as yet and filled with the cold liquid. From the hand of O'Kiku it was accepted. Jinnai drank, looked long and earnestly into the face of both, then with a wave of the hand dismissed them. He had had his say. The hardness of the man returned, and all his courage with it.
Three days later—Shōhō 2nd year 12th month 1st day (17th January 1646)—the procession was formed to move to the execution ground at Torigoébashi. The assembled cits marvelled at sight of the man and rumour of his extraordinary wickedness. There was a concentration of mind and energy in the face of Jinnai, which under any condition would attract attention. The centre of the scene, he bore himself splendidly. Despite the pain he suffered no incapacity was pleaded. Thus he forced nature. The costume of the famed robber at this noted execution in Edo's annals? He wore—"a wadded coat (kosodé) of fine silk from Hachijō in Izu, and that of quintuple stripe. The obi (sash) was seamless and of a purple crape. Into brick coloured leggings was twisted bias white thread, and his straw sandals (waraji) matched them." The jail had given to a naturally fair colour a somewhat livid greenish tint, rendered more commanding and terrible by the piercing cold eyes. Those far off said—"How mild looking! How tranquil!" Those near at hand shuddered and were glad at the removal of such wickedness. The yoriki—informed of the purport—let him speak. Jinnai turned to the crowd. His voice reached far. "Brought to contempt and a punishment words grudge to mention, this Jinnai holds not evil thoughts against those who carry out the law. The ill fortune of unexpected disease made capture easy, and has brought about this vile ending. Hence on death Jinnai will not leave this place; but as an evil spirit remain to answer those who pray for relief from the mischance of this ill disease. Those afflicted with okori (malaria) shall find sure answer to their prayers. Held now in no respect, this later will be bestowed. The last purposes of those about to die are carried out." He ceased speaking. A sign and he was stripped and raised on the implement of torture キ ill described as a cross. For hours he hung, revived from time to time with vinegar. Then signal was given for the end. First one, then another, yakunin thrust a spear into his belly, seeking least injury and greatest torture. As he approached the utter prostration of a dissolution the yoriki gave sign. The spear point thrust into the vitals showed through the left shoulder. And Jinnai died.
To the north, just beyond the present Torigoébashi, is the Jinnaibashi, relic of this episode. On the north, close by the Torigoé Jinja stands the shrine to Jinnai, the god granting cure to sufferers from ague. No mean resort is it; nor modest the offerings of wine to his service. There it has endured through these hundreds of years. Jinnaibashi, Jigokubashi (Hell Bridge) is a relic of the place of execution soon abandoned. After the fifth year of the period the jail was removed to Temmachō; the execution ground to Kotsukabara.