Folk Legends of Japan (15 page)

John Greenleaf Whittier based his poem "The New Wife and the Old" on a New Hampshire ghost legend of the dead first wife plaguing her husband's second bride.

Text from
Shimane-ken Kohi Densetsu Shu,
pp. 46-47.

Notes:
Kotatsu,
a quilt-covered frame over a charcoal brazier to provide winter warmth for feet and legs.
Futon,
a heavily padded quilt.

T
HERE WAS A CERTAIN
handsome man among the samurai that served the feudal lord of Matsue. His wife was also very beautiful, and they loved each other. All the people talked of. them favorably. However, Fortune did not smile on them, and the wife fell sick. No medicine or treatment was effective and she became seriously ill. One day the wife took the husband's hand and said: "If I die, you will marry again. I am sad to think of it." The husband answered: "I will never marry again if such a thing comes to pass. So don't worry about that."

The wife was glad to hear his words, and she died with a smile. The husband in his grief buried her reverently. A year passed. The husband's friends advised him to marry again, but he did not accept their advice because of the promise he had made to his wife. However, he became lonely and gradually the memory of his wife faded. At last he married a new wife.

The days passed peacefully for some time. One day the husband went away on business and did not return home that night. The wife, being lonely, went to bed early. Then a woman sat at her bedside looking as hazy as a cloud of smoke. "What a beautiful lady you are! Your husband ought to love you," she said, and touched the wife's face with her hand. Her hand was as cold as ice. The wife thought it must be the ghost of the first wife. But she spoke no words. Afterwards, whenever the husband was not at home the ghost would appear at night and worry the wife. At last the wife could bear it no longer and went back to her family's house and stayed there.

The husband held a ceremony on the anniversary of his first wife's death. That night, after the guests had gone away, the sister of the first wife was resting at the
kotatsu.
A strange drowsiness overcame her. Then the candlelight on the family altar flickered, and the first wife appeared like a cloud of smoke from the altar. She came to the
kotatsu
and sat on it. "Dear sister, I am glad to meet you," she said and embraced her sister's shoulder. The sister cried out and called for someone to come. The ghost disappeared immediately, but
the futon
on the
kotatsu
was wet with water.

THE MIRROR GIVEN BY THE GHOST

The idea of
goryo
is clearly presented here. The general Motif E710, "External soul," also appears, although a mirror as a specific location is not represented in the
Motif-Index.
There are many references for "Magic clairvoyant mirror," Motif D1323.1.

Text from
Shimane-ken Kohi Densetsu Shu,
pp. 33-35.

T
HERE WAS A YOUNG MAN
named Hayasuke in the house of Matsumoto, who served the feudal lord of Matsue as instructor in the art of the spear. Being an honest man, Hayasuke was loved by his master. He possessed a special skill in flute playing, which he displayed during his leisure.

Hayasuke always had a small box with him which he kept carefully locked. When people asked him about it, he explained no more than to say that it contained a precious object, nor did he ever show it to anyone. The young samurai of the Matsue clan who customarily assembled to perform spear exercises in Matsumoto's exercise hall were all very curious about the box. Several of them conferred together about the matter and one day opened the box secretly while Hayasuke was taking a nap. To their disappointment, however, they found only a little mirror in the box. When Hayasuke awoke from his nap and learned what they had done, he took great offense. He accused them of doing a dishonest deed unworthy of samurai. The young men made apologies for their error, saying: "We were wrong." Then they asked him: "Why do you guard that mirror so carefully and so secretly?"

Hayasuke answered: "Up till now I have kept this mirror in secret, but now that it is discovered, there is no further use to maintain secrecy. I will tell you everything." So he told them the story of the mirror.

In his younger days Hayasuke was greatly enamored of flute playing. One night he ascended Mt. Seikoin with his friend, playing on flutes under the moonlight. It was already late autumn. They wandered around the dewy hillside among the bare trees. Hayasuke was so much absorbed in playing the flute that he paid no heed when his friend said: "Let's go back now." As Hayasuke did not stop his flute playing, the friend said: "I'm going," and went away.

Then suddenly Hayasuke felt someone hold fast to his legs and pull at them with hands as cold as ice. He was startled and turned around. A beautiful woman sat on the ground. She was clad in a white dress, her hair hung in loose tresses down to her shoulders, and her pale face wore a wistful look.

"Who are you?" asked Hayasuke.

"I am a ghost," the woman answered.

Being of stout heart, Hayasuke did not fear and asked the woman to tell all about herself. The woman said: "I am the wife of a merchant in the city of Matsue. But my husband is a loose man and he has indulged in dissipation. He brought his sweetheart home and let her live with us. She was evil-hearted and hated me. One day when I was at the well drawing water, she pushed me down into the well. After she had killed me in this way, she reported to the police that I had committed suicide, and soon she became the legal wife of my husband. Oh, please just think of my bitter resentment! Some day I shall possess her and wreak vengeance upon her. But the difficulty is that I cannot get into their house, because she had a charm pasted on the door which drives away ghosts. I want somebody to take the charm away. Many men have I accosted and tried to ask them to undertake that task, but there has never been a one who did not run away from me. It is very fortunate that I met you tonight. I pray you to grant my request.

"My husband's house is at Odamaki-cho in Suetsugi and his name is such-and-such. As a proof of my trustworthiness I will give you this mirror. I used it whenever I blackened my teeth, and it contains my soul." So saying, she handed him a small mirror.

With some suspicion Hayasuke said: "I will do as you want." Thereupon the strange woman disappeared.

Hayasuke went down the mountain, passed Nakahara and Dote, and came to Odamaki-cho. He examined each house and finally found the one with the charm on the door. He reached out and took the charm down. He had walked on about ten yards, when there arose a sudden clamor in that house, and a man rushed out in great haste.

"What's the matter?" asked Hayasuke.

"The mistress is suddenly taken ill. I'm going for the doctor," answered the man, running.

Afterwards the neighbors of this house told Hayasuke, when he made inquiry about the episode, that the mistress of the house died of a strange disease. She had struggled furiously as if she were being choked and crushed on her breast by some apparition. She refused to take any medicine and died crying: "I was wrong. Forgive me!"

Hayasuke finished his story and added these words: "I understand that a person will be rewarded according to the way he treats others. Ever since, this mirror has warned me against doing any evil deed."

THE DISH MANSION IN UNSHU

In his article on
bakemono
(ghostly goblins), Joly speaks of the dramatized legend of Okiku, the Well Ghost (p. 15). His version varies from the text below in having a samurai break one of his precious plates in order to fasten blame on the maid Okiku, whom he then propositions. When she refuses his advances, she kills herself and her ghost haunts the well. Joly refers to a print by Hokusai and a tale by Mitford on the legend (in "The Ghost of Sakura," p. 186; in Mitford's rendition the servant-girl breaks the plate and then commits suicide). Hokusai's sketch is reproduced in James A. Michener's
The Hokusai Sketchbooks
(Rutland, Vermont, 1958), p. 205.

Text from
Shimane-ken Kohi Densetsu Shu,
pp. 4-5.

D
URING THE SHOHO ERA
[1644-48] a certain samurai who served the feudal lord of Matsue treasured ten china dishes. His wife was an evil-hearted woman who always treated the maidservant cruelly. The wife broke one of the precious dishes and dropped the pieces down the well after which she declared that the maid had stolen the dish. The maid was given a severe whipping. Having no way to plead her innocence, she hung herself by the well.

After that her ghost appeared every night by the well and counted the number of dishes: "One, two, three..." in a sad voice. When she had counted up to nine she burst out crying without saying "ten." This strange occurrence took place night after night and became known to all the other samurai. The master of the house worried greatly over the matter. One of his friends, who was a steady, clever man, said: "I will get rid of the ghost for you."

So one night he hid himself near the well to wait for the ghost. At midnight the ghost of the young woman came out and began to count: "One, two, three..." As soon as she uttered "nine" the samurai said "ten." At that instant the ghost-woman vanished from sight.

Since then the ghost has never been seen.

FISH SALAD MINGLED WITH BLOOD

The general Motif M460, "Curses on families," applies here. A similar curse occurs in "Blood-Red Pool," p. 235-36, where rice is mixed with blood.

Text from
Bungo Densetsu Shu,
p. 47. Collected by Ume Namba.

Note:
Namasu,
a kind offish salad.

T
HIS IS A STORY
told at Kawazoko in Toji-machi. Long ago the village headman's household was very busy preparing food for New Year's Eve. There was an old dish that had been carefully kept in this house from past generations. On this occasion they put
namasu
in this dish, and a maid broke it by mistake. The master of the house grew very angry and roared at her. The maid worried herself so much that she threw herself down the well.

After that time on every New Year's Eve the
namasu
served in this house was mingled with blood. Therefore the family decided never to make
namasu
in that house on New Year's Eve.

WHITE RICE ON THE POT

Text from
Shimane-ken Kohi Densetsu Shu,
p. 6, from Naka-gun.

D
URING THE
S
HOTOKU ERA
[1711-15], a man named Ichijiro in charge of the rice storehouse of the feudal lord lost one of the straw bags of rice while carrying them to Tanojiri. Ichijiro was tried and sentenced to death. This cruel punishment rendered his mind distraught and led him to commit violence on different occasions. The people of his family sought to restrain him, but he broke free from their confinement and killed himself beside the rice pot over the fire.

It is said that every year after that, on the anniversary of his death, one or two cupfuls of rice would appear on the lid of the pot. In fact, later on, during the Ansei era [1854-59] in the time of Zenemon, the latter one morning found a handful of rice on the pot. He removed it, but soon another handful of rice appeared on the same spot. Thinking that this strange event was caused by the dead soul of Ichijiro, Zenemon had a memorial service held for Ichijiro's soul by the priest of Eisho-ji.

Thereafter nothing strange occurred any more.

THE SEVEN BLIND MINSTRELS

Motif M411.3, "Dying man's curse," and M442.1 "Curse: descendants to be un-shapely," are present. Mitford writes: "The belief in curses hanging over families for generations is as common as that in ghosts and supernatural apparitions" (p. 187). He then relates a tradition of a curse visited on the house of Asai by a concubine cruelly beaten by her lord, who put out her left eye with a candlestick and then killed her. He and his descendants lost their left eyes at forty and soon after died.

Text from Kotaro Hayakawa,
Tabi to Densetsu, I
(October, 1928), p. 25.

A
T THE BORDER
of Shimo Tsugu-mura, Kita Shidara-gun, Aichi-ken, alongside the road leading to Futto of Furikusa-mura, there stand seven round stones in a row which are called the tombs of Shichinin Zato [Seven Blind Minstrels]. As one goes on and passes those tombs, the road slopes down. This slope is called Sando-no-saka [Blind Minstrels' Slope].