Poisoned Bride and Other Judge Dee Mysteries (25 page)

Here it may be added that I have, quite arbitrarily, changed the family name of the warden of Six-Mile Village from Hu into P'ang, in order to avoid confusion with Warden Ho of Huang-hua Village. And I have changed the surname of the murdered silk merchant Hsü Kuang-ch'i into Liu, to avoid the reader confusing him with the student Hsü Tê-t'ai.

Second, I have omitted at the end of each chapter the conventional phrase common to all Chinese novels: “If you want to know what happened next, you will have to read the next chapter,” and also, at the beginning of each chapter, the conventional summary of the last alinea of the preceding chapter. As is well known, this tradition originated in the tales of the Chinese public story teller, from which the Chinese novel developed. This same tradition demands that every chapter should, if possible, end at a critical point in the story, in order to encourage the listeners to deposit their copper in the bowl, or to make sure that they would come back to the story teller’s street corner on the next night. I have omitted these repetitious statements at the beginning and end of each chapter, but I have retained the original division in chapters, and also the original chapter headings in two lines, common to all Chinese novels.Third, I have sometimes interpolated an explanatory sentence where the Chinese text takes a knowledge of some peculiar Chinese situation for granted. At the end of Chapter III, for instance, it is related that Judge Ti sets out on a secret tour of investigation, disguised as a physician. Here I added the sentence: “Like all literati, he had a good knowledge of drugs and the arts of healing, etc.,” so that the reader would understand that this was quite a natural disguise. An ordinary Western detective would soon betray himself if he tried to pose as a practising physician.

Fourth, I have abbreviated considerably Chapter XXVIII. The original introduces into the jail the entire Infernal Tribunal, the constables acting the part of the minor devils. This is quite interesting to the Chinese reader, who is thoroughly familiar with all these details, while for an uneducated woman like Mrs. Chou they are a horrifying reality. Since, however, a complete rendering of this scene would make a comical impression on the Western reader, I thought it would spoil the effect. Hence this abbreviated rendering, featuring only the Black Judge himself, and his two most important assistants, the Ox-headed and the Horse-headed devil.

Finally, as observed already in my preface to this translation, the 17th or 18th century anonymous author shows a supreme unconcern for historical accuracy. He describes life as he knew it from his own observation, and conveniently forgets that his story plays in the T'ang period, about one thousand years before his time. I let stand many anachronisms, as when, for instance, the judge refers to the Sung scholar Shao Yung, who lived 1011-1077, or when he refers to Peking as the capital of China. Other anachronisms, which might spread further some misconceptions of the general reading public, I have eliminated; I mention, for instance, references to the Chinese queue (which was imposed on the Chinese in the 17th century by the Manchu conquerors, several centuries after Judge Ti’s time), and to the blunderbuss being used by the constables of the tribunal.

Other minor alterations are recorded in the notes below. I hope that my sinological colleagues will agree that none of those alterations materially affect a faithful rendering of style and spirit of the Chinese original.

Ta Tsing Leu Lee
, being the fundamental laws of the Penal Code of China, translated from the Chinese by Sir George Thomas Staunton, London 1810. The passages from the Code given in the notes below are quoted from this translation.

Notes and Commentaries on Chinese Criminal Law
, by Ernest Alabaster, London 1899.

Le droit chinois, Conception et évolution, institutions législatives et judiciaires
, by: Jean Escarra, Peiping 1936. Although this work is mainly concerned with modern Chinese law, there is an excellent historical introduction.

The Office of District Magistrate in China
, an article by Byron Brenan, in
Journal of the North-China Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society,
Vol. XXXII, 1897-1898.

Village and Townlife in China
, by Y. K. Leong and L. K. Tao, London 1915. Pp. 45 sq. give a good survey of the position and duties of the district magistrate.

Historic China and other sketches
, by H. A. Giles, London 1882. Part II of this collection of essays by the well known British Sinologue, entitled “Judicial Sketches,” is of importance for our present subject. Pp. 125-140, “The Penal Code,” gives a good summary of the contents and purport of this code, with interesting comments. Pp. 141-232, “Lan Lu-chow’s criminal cases,” contains the translation of 15 cases solved by the scholar-official Lan Ting-yüan (literary name Lu-chow, 1680-1733), when he was district magistrate of Ch'ao-yang, in Kuangtung Province. These, however, are real “case histories.” Judge Lan gives a faithful account of how he actually dealt with some crimes committed in his district; thus these reports are quite different from “detective stories,” they were written for instruction rather than for entertainment.

Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio
, by H. A. Giles, various editions. This book is a partial translation of the famous
Liao-chai-chih-i
, an extensive collection of Chinese short stories, dealing with weird or mysterious happenings. The able translator added copious notes on Chinese manners and customs.

Lung-t'u-kung-an
, Novelle Cinesi tolte dal Lung-tu-kung-an e tradotte sull' originale Cinese da Carlo Puini. Piacenza, 1872. An Italian translation of seven cases solved by the most famous ancient Chinese judge, Pao-kung. His complete name was Pao Ch'èng (999-1062), and he held high office during the Sung dynasty. His exploits are mentioned already in such early collections of criminal cases as the
T'ang-yin-pi-shih
, written in 1211 by the Southern Sung scholar Kuei Wan-yung. This
T'ang-yin-pi-shih
, I may remark in passing, became very popular in Japan, and served as model for Japanese collections of crime stories as for instance the
Ou-in hi-ji
and the
Tou-in hi-ji
the Japanese Sinologue Yamamoto Hokuzan (1752-1812) published a carefully edited reprint of the
T'ang-yin-pi-shih
.

The
Lung-t'u-kung-an
, the collection of criminal cases connected with Judge Pao, is largely fiction. Today it is still the most popular Chinese detective novel, and some famous Chinese theatrical pieces are based on episodes borrowed from this collection.

Some Chinese Detective Stories
, an essay by Vincent Starrett; to be found in his “Bookman’s Holiday,” published in 1942, Random House, New York. Apart from some minor inaccuracies (a few of which are mentioned below, in my note to Chapter XXIII), this is a good survey of the subject, and, as far as I know, the only one existing in the English language. It must be borne in mind, however, that there are many more ancient Chinese detective novels than are mentioned by Mr. Starrett. The total number must run to well over a hundred. Although it is only in recent years that Chinese and Japanese scholars have started to collect and study Chinese popular novels of the 16th, 17th and 18th century, an amazing number of interesting volumes have already been brought to light. As is well known, old-fashioned Chinese literati considered all novels as inferior literature, and, although they read them with pleasure, they did not keep such books on their shelves. At present, therefore, one must search for such novels in the book stalls of Chinese markets, and in forgotten corners of obscure bookshops.

I draw the attention of those interested to a brief Indian treatise on the coroner’s work, to be found in a Sanskrit work of the 3d century B.C. This is the famous
Arthasastra
, a voluminous work on the art of government, written by Kautilya. Chapter VII of the Fourth Book, entitled “Examination of Sudden Death,” contains an ancient Indian set of “instructions to coroners.” Cf. the translation by Dr. R. Shamasastry, 3d edition, Mysore 1929, pp. 245 sq.

Chapter IV
. The Dragon Boat Festival is held all over China on the fifth day of the fifth moon, in commemoration of a virtuous statesman of the fifth century B.C., who drowned himself in despair because his sovereign would not listen to his wise counsels. The Dragon Boats are long and narrow craft, the prow showing the shape of a dragon’s head, and the stern its tail. They are rowed by fifty to one hundred people, the rhythm being indicated by a large gong suspended in the middle of the boat. The winner gets a nominal prize, and all crews are entertained after the race by the wealthier members of the community.

Chapter VI
. Cf. Chinese Penal Code, Section CCLXXVI: “All persons guilty of digging in, and breaking up another man’s burying ground, until at length one of the coffins which had been deposited therein, is laid bare and becomes visible, shall be punished with 100 blows, and perpetual banishment to the distance of 3000 miles. Any person who, after having been guilty as aforesaid, proceeds to open the coffin, and uncover the corpse laid therein, shall be punished with death, by being strangled, after undergoing the usual confinement.”

Cf. the judge’s speech to the coroner in Chapter VIII, and his warning to the undertaker, in Chapter IX.

Chapters VII-VIII
. The judge took great risks in arresting the widow and questioning her under torture, without definite proof; if she had proved to be innocent, he would have offended against the law in more than one respect. I quote the following provisions of the Penal Code:

Section CCCCXX. “Female offenders shall not be committed to prison except in capital cases, or cases of adultery. In all other cases, they shall, if married, remain in the charge and custody of their husbands, and if single, in that of their relations or next neighbors, who shall, upon every such occasion, be held responsible for their appearance at the tribunal of justice when required.”

Section CCCXXXVI. “When any person is falsely accused of a capital offense, and upon such accusation has been condemned and executed, the false accuser shall be either strangled or beheaded, according to the manner in which the innocent person had been executed, and half his property shall be forfeited. If the execution of the sentence of death against the innocent person has been prevented by a timely discovery of the falsehood of the accusation, the false accuser shall be punished with 100 blows and perpetual banishment to the distance of 3000 miles, and moreover be subjected to extra-service during three years.”

Section CCCXCVI. “All officers of government, and their official attendants, who, instigated by private malice or revenge, designedly commit to prison an unaccused and unimplicated individual, shall be punished with 80 blows. All officers of government, and their official attendants, who, instigated by private malice or revenge, designedly examine with judicial severities, any unaccused and unimplicated person, shall, although they should not by so doing actually wound such person, be punished with 80 blows; if guilty of inflicting, by such procedure, any cutting or severe wounds, they shall be punished according to the law against cutting and wounding in an affray in ordinary cases; lastly, if death ensues, the superintending magistrate shall be beheaded. The assessors, and other officers of justice concerned in the transaction, shall, if aware of the illegality of their act, suffer punishment according to the same rule, except in capital cases, upon which they shall be allowed a reduction of one degree in the punishment.”

The last paragraph of this section explains the misgivings of the headman of the constables, in Chapter VIII.

Chapter XIII
. “Divine Village”: the Chinese original has
Shuang-t'u. chai
“Double Earth Village.” The judge connects this name with the character for “divination,”
kua
, in the verse, which contains two characters
t'u
: “earth.” I have changed this name to “divine,” in order to spare the reader a long explanation of the Chinese art of dissecting characters.

Chapter X1V
. The art of physiognomy is a special science in China, about which extensive literature exists. It teaches not only how to judge the character of a person by the form of his eyes, eyebrows, ears, mouth etc., but also how to conclude from these data his past life, and his future.

Chapter XV
. “Turn-up Pass”: the Chinese original has
ch'i-t'uan
, “green vegetables.”' The old constable mistakes this for
p'u-ch'i
, which means “chestnuts.” Since I could not find in English two words of these meanings which sufficiently resembled each other in sound, I changed them into “Turn-up” and “turnip.”

Interlude
. The three actors play the roles of
tun
“young maiden,”
shêng
, “young lover,” and
mo
, “elderly man.” The Chinese stage has no side-scenes etc., the spectators are expected to imagine all stage-decoration for themselves. In the original the tunes to which the songs should be sung are indicated.

The festival of viewing the blossoms was formerly an occasion for much license, the strict rules regarding the separation of the sexes being temporarily suspended. The plum-blossom especially has a number of sexual connotations; cf. my book “The Lore of the Chinese Lute” (Tokyo 1940), page 143.

The red candles mentioned in the maiden’s song refer to large red candles, lighted during the wedding ceremony.

For a further interpretation of this interlude, see the notes to Chapters XXVII and XXVIII below.

Chapter XIX
. .Cf. Alabaster, op. cit. page 103: “Chinese law regarding the continuance of the succession of a family as infinitely important, in general allows an offender to escape the consequences of his offense — usually in the end by commuting the penalty to a fine — if he is the sole dependence of his family. The leniency extends to most classes of offenses it would seem even to cases of homicide. The leniency does not apparently strictly extend to cases of intentional homicide, and certainly does not to the gravest offenses, such as treason; but as regards the former, it is open to question whether so strong a plea would not prevail in every instance.” In this case, however, the judge decides that no leniency shall be extended.

The case of the warden is more complicated. Although he did say that the hostel keeper had committed the double murder, he did so the first time in order to extract money from him, and the second time in order to defend his conduct before the judge. He did not file an accusation against the hostel keeper, and if the latter had not protested, the warden would doubtless have reported the murder to the tribunal as having been committed by an unknown person. It is probably for this reason that the judge lets him off with the 100 blows mentioned in the Code, Section CCCXXXVI (see above), without the perpetual banishment and the three year extra-service; but the judge added a second beating, since the warden had also handed in a wrong report, and had tampered with the corpses.

Chapter XXIII
. Vincent Starrett, op. cit. page 20, has pointed out the resemblance of this solution to that described in a tale of the Sherlock Holmes cycle, entitled “The Speckled Band.” On comparing Mr. Starrett’s résumé of the “Case of the Strange Corpse” and of the “Poisoned Bride,” with the complete story as given in the present translation, it will be noticed that the former contains some inaccuracies. In the first case, it is not the judge who makes a search under the bed, but one of his lieutenants; and it is not the lover who did the killing, but the widow Chou. In the second case, only the bride dies, and not “a number of persons.” These, however, are minor points, which do not affect Mr. Starrett’s argument.

Chapters XXVIII-XX1X
. The nail murder motif occurs in several other ancient Chinese detective stories; I mention, for instance, the
Shih-kung-an
, “Criminal Cases solved by Judge Shih.” This judge was the famous Ch'ing scholar-official Shih Shih-lun (1659-1722); a brief account of his solving a murder similar to that of Pi Hsün is given by Rev. Macgowan, in his book “Chinese Folklore Tales” (London 1910), under the title “The Widow Ho.” In the
China Review
of 1881 (volume X, pp. 41-43), G. C. Stent gave an English abstract of another nail murder story, without, however, indicating his original Chinese source. This abstract bears the title “The double nail murders,” and gives an interesting variant of the same motif. When the coroner fails to discover any trace of violence on a man’s corpse, his own wife suggests to him to look for a nail. When the judge has convicted the murdered man’s widow on this evidence, he has also the coroner’s wife brought before him, since her knowledge of such a subtle way of committing a murder seems to him suspicious. It then transpires that the coroner is her second husband. The corpse of her first husband is exhumed, and a nail discovered inside the empty skull. Both women are executed.

Hsü Tê-t'ai’s sentence may seem to the reader disproportionally severe. Chinese law, however, takes a very grave view of adultery with a married woman, and of being accessory to a murder. Further, strangulation, although in fact more painful than decapitation, in China is considered as the mildest form of the death penalty, since the body of the victim is not mutilated; according to a very ancient Chinese belief, a dead man’s soul can only enjoy a happy existence in the Hereafter if his body is buried complete. The regular process of strangulation implies
san-fang-san-chin
, “three times loosening and three times tightening,” that is to say that the executioner makes the victim nearly suffocate two times, and really strangles him only the third time that he tightens the noose. Hsü Tê-t'ai’s sentence was mitigated by the ruling that death should ensue after the noose had been tightened the first time.

Execution by the process of “lingering death,”
ling-ch'ih
, is the severest form of the death penalty known to Chinese law. It is the punishment for high treason, parricide, and a wife killing her husband. The executioner kills the victim by gradually slicing and cutting his body to pieces, a horrible process, that is said to last for several hours. For the Chinese, however, the fact that the body is so thoroughly mutilated counts as heavily as the terrible pain inflicted; for thus all the victim’s hopes for a life in the Hereafter are destroyed. Instances of this punishment being executed in its full severity seem to have been comparatively rare; usually it is, as in the case of the widow Chou, mitigated in such a way that the victim is first killed, and subsequently cut to pieces.

As regards the guilt of Dr. T'ang and Mrs. Pi, both could have been heavily punished, since Chinese law holds the head of the household responsible for crimes committed by its members, while a tutor stands
in loco parentis
. Neither of them, however, is further prosecuted, because the judge finds that both had been completely ignorant of the crimes committed in their respective houses; moreover, Dr. T'ang had a high literary degree, which in itself is a legal reason for leniency, while Mrs. Pi was an extremely stupid woman.

The above shows clearly how wide a margin the Penal Code leaves to the discretion of the judge.

After the two confessions related in Chapters XXVIII and XXIX, we can understand better the import of the “Interlude.” The “maiden” is of course the widow Chou, and the “young man” is her lover Hsü Tê-t'ai. Their conversation shows that Hsü is not as deeply attached to his lady-love as she to him, and that she realises this in her innermost thoughts; she mentions her troubles with the judge, the “cruel, cruel man at home,” but Hsü does not react on these complaints. This eery play, full of double entendre, is entirely divorced from the notions of place and time. I think, therefore, that the third actor, the “elderly man,” represents Pi Hsün, the murdered husband. This “interlude” is the only passage in the novel where we are given a hint as to his relations to his wife; evidently he loved her very much, it is he who reacts on her complaints, and not Hsü. And are we to assume from his willingness “to go there all three of us” that Pi Hsün when still alive suspected his wife’s intrigue with Hsü, but would have condoned it in order to retain her? This question I leave to experts in psycho-analysis to decide.