The Cambridge History of Japan, Vol. 4: Early Modern Japan
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FINANCES 215
for sale - tobacco and cotton, of course, but also indigo, madder,
rapeseed, and vegetables. In some areas, particularly in central Japan,
commercial agriculture had become the predominant mode by the
eighteenth century: Over 60 percent of the arable land of the provinces
of Settsu and Kawachi was given over to cotton production, which had
proved so lucrative that farmers were even planting it in their pad-
dies.
85
Agriculture, by becoming more varied, had also grown more
profitable, but the han (and the bakufu too, for that matter) seemed
unable to take advantage of it.
It is tempting to ascribe such administrative lacunae to ignorance,
inertia, or even to some impermeable precommercial innocence, and
indeed all of these elements may have played a part in the initial failure
of the han to react constructively to changes in economic life. But
there was another important element involved as well. For all their
authority over the common people - who were, after all, dragooned
into
goningumi,
or joint responsibility groups, in which all were held
hostage for the good behavior of their fellows, and therefore theoreti-
cally totally responsive to direction - very few han administrations
were strong enough to do as they pleased. This was particularly so in
matters of
taxation.
Any intensification of
taxes,
whether in their rate,
their incidence, or even their administration, was likely to be opposed.
The first stage of such opposition took the form of argument, in which
one of two lines might be pressed. One approach was to label any
variation from former practice a departure from precedent and there-
fore,
by definition, a breach of faith. The other was to draw attention
to nearby han where things were done differently, and rather better.
Given the complicated map of Tokugawa Japan, where han, portions
of
han,
and fragments of bakufu land lay cheek by jowl, it was never
difficult to point to some neighbor who, under a different administra-
tion, was receiving more favorable treatment. Because precedent was
so valued and because there was so much local variation, either of
these gambits could be effective.
86
If they should fail, then farmers could turn to more emphatic mea-
sures.
They could, for
example,
desert their farms en
masse,
as
they did
in Shonai in 1632, when large numbers trooped across the
han
border
into Akita rather than submit to
a
new (and presumably more accurate)
land survey, or as
3,000
farmers from Takato
han
did in 1654 in protest
against administrative "tyranny."
87
The next, and graver, step was an
85 Otsuka shigakkai, ed., (Shimpan) Kyodo shijiten (Tokyo: Asakura shoten, 1969), p. 611.
86 Aono, Daimyo, p. 219, cites some examples from the Hiroshima area.
87 Tsuruoka-shi shi, p. 265; Fujii and Hayj-hi, eds., Han shijiten, p. 247.
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2l6 THE
HAN
intimidatory show of solidarity, like that displayed by the 300,000
peas-
ants who jammed into Hiroshima in 1718 to protest against a new (and
once again presumably more accurate) survey of their lands, or the
20,000 farmers in Karatsu who joined together
to
protest the imposition
of a new tax on low-lying land, as well as the fact that their normal taxes
were now being measured out with a far larger measure than usual, and
a heaped one, at that.
88
Such incidents, increasingly spilling over into
violence, were frequent enough in the seventeenth century, but their
rate more than doubled
in the
eighteenth - upwards of
a
thousand cases
between 1715 and 1815, as against fewer than five hundred over the
period 1615 to 1715.
89
In almost every case, new taxation initiatives on
the part of the authorities, han or bakufu, according to location, was at
the root of the trouble. The more efficiently these governments tried to
tap the traditional sources of income, the more resistance they encoun-
tered, and the more effective that resistance was.
Of course, in all but the very largest demonstrations, the han had
the military force needed to restore order. They often did so and
frequently none too gently; it was not unknown for protest leaders to
be beheaded for their pains, as a warning to future malcontents.
9
" But
nevertheless, the relationship between
han
officals and peasants was a
particularly delicate one. Any dispute, if mishandled, could well bring
about such turmoil that the bakufu would be compelled to intervene,
in which case the daimyo and his officials might not go unscathed.
Koriki Takanaga lost his domain at Shimabara and Yashiro Tadataka
his at Hojo in precisely such circumstances.
91
Peasant protest was possible because the bakufu had recognized as
early as 1603 that peasants, no matter where they lived, had certain
rights,
among them the right to formal complaint and the right to
desert their fields and move elsewhere, if necessary.
92
Subsequently,
after experiencing difficulties of its own in this regard, the bakufu was
to regret its magnanimity, but the principle still remained. Once con-
fronted by a determined peasant opposition,
han
often found it politic
to compromise, even to back down, rather than risk a prolonged,
costly, embarrassing, and potentially damaging dispute. The fact was
that han needed their peasants and needed them, moreover, to be
reasonably healthy and moderately content. Few daimyo would have
88 Aono, Daimyo, p. 220; Karatsu-shi shi, pp. 592-3.
89 Aoki Koji, Hyakusho ikki no
nenji-teki
kenkyu (Tokyo: Shinseisha, 1966), p. 17.
90 One of the earliest examples from the Tokugawa period is the beheading in 1608 of twelve
Choshu peasant leaders. Minegishi Kentaro, "Seiritsu-ki han keizai no kozo," in Furushima
Toshio, ed., Nihon keizai shi
laikei
(Tokyo: Tokyo daigaku shuppan-kai, 1965), vol. 3, p. 222.
91 Fujii and Hayashi, eds., Han shijiten, pp. 489, 158. 92 TKRK, vol. 5, p. 150.
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FINANCES 217
disagreed with Ikeda Mitsumasa of Okayama han, who in 1655 spoke
of his concern that "the peasants should be robust and devote them-
selves to their agriculture."
93
Twenty-odd years later, officials in
Fukuyama han were warning of exhaustion among the peasantry and
urging that they be allowed adequate opportunity for relaxation.
94
The traditional framework really offered the han only one way of
augmenting their income without unduly provoking their peasants,
and this was land reclamation. If they could increase the area under
cultivation and make sure that it all paid taxes at the appropriate rate,
then to that extent
han
revenues would rise. The prospect was undeni-
ably attractive, whether achieved by the han itself - perhaps using
corvee labor - or else by local entrepreneurs working with official
knowledge and permission. Many han, availing themselves of the op-
portunity, were able to expand their productive capacity by 30 percent
and more: The area of cultivated land in Tsugaru
han
doubled during
the seventeenth century, and in both Shonai, farther down the Japan
Sea coast, and Fukuyama, over on the Inland Sea, it increased by at
least a third.
95
Between 1600 and 1720, in fact, the area of cultivated
land in Japan grew by a colossal 82 percent.
96
But reclamation could
not be extended indefinitely, particularly not within the limits of con-
temporary technology, and by the early eighteenth century those limits
appeared to have been reached. The next 150 years could produce an
increase of
no
more than 3 percent.
97
In any case, few
han
would have
had a completely free hand with their reclamation; undoubtedly much
of it was carried on surreptitiously by peasants who, having cleared or
drained small plots for themselves, strenuously resisted the visits of
any inspectors who might have discovered them.
98
It was in the eighteenth century, when reclamation was almost at an
end, that many han administrators became aware of
a
new problem.
Not only was it now virtually impossible for them to increase returns
from traditional sources, but more disturbing still, their revenues were
actually shrinking.
99
There were several reasons for this. In part it
came about through the concentration of samurai in castle towns, a
phenomenon observable in much of Japan by the late seventeenth
93 Quoted in Aono Daimyo p. 17. 94 Ibid., p. 99.
95 Miyazaki Michio, Aomori-ken no rekishi (Tokyo: Yamakawa shuppansha, 1970), pp. 149-50;
Tsurvoka-shi
shi, p. 296; Aono, Daimyo, p. 80.
96 Aono, Daimyo, p. 79. 97 Ibid.
98 Miura Toshiaki, "Hamamatsu-han ryoiki no keisei to shukueki joseikin,"
Chiho-shi kenkyu
79
(1966):
85.
99 For some examples, see Fuktyama-shi shi, p. 496; Nagaoka shiyakusho, ed., Nagaoka-shi
shi
(Nagaoka: Nagaoka shiyakusho, 1931), p. 109; Taniguchi Sumio, Okayama han (Tokyo:
Yoshikawa kobunkan, 1964), pp. 145-6.
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2l8 THE
HAN
century. No matter how greatly this had contributed to the stability
and coherence of
han
governments, it had robbed them of their com-
manding position in the countryside. Village affairs were now left
almost completely in the care of the headmen, themselves farmers and
therefore subject to precisely the same pressures as their fellows were.
Consequently they reacted to their freedom by underreporting yields,
by neglecting to register freshly cultivated land, and by concealing the
extent of rural commerce.
There were other contributing factors as well. In provinces like
Settsu and Kawachi, the transformation of highly taxed rice paddies
into more modestly taxed cotton fields inevitably led to reduced reve-
nues.
So too did a steady drift of farming population away from the
villages and into country towns, castle towns, and the great urban
centers of Edo and Osaka.
I0
° For that matter, agriculture was notori-
ously unpredictable during the Tokugawa period, and most
han
found
themselves compelled to reduce or suspend normal taxation from time
to time to help their farmers cope with disasters of
one
sort or another.
In the northeast, where crop failures were common, unseasonable cold
was usually the problem; elsewhere the agricultural cycle could be
shattered by anything from floods, typhoons, and mud slides to earth-
quakes and volcanic eruptions. Whatever the cause, every
han
sooner
or later had to recognize genuine hardship and make some sort of
allowance for it. Even Nagaoka, after three successive years of flood-
ing in the 1680s, was forced to acknowledge the gravity of the situation
to the extent of subsidizing rice sales, providing shelter for the home-
less,
and suspending, albeit temporarily, the torture of those who had
defaulted on their taxes.
101
Naturally, declining incomes made the
han
far more sensitive to their
expenses, and these were substantial. Despite the Tokugawa peace, in
which no armies took the field between 1638 and 1864, every
han
was
compelled to maintain a standing
army.
The bakufu's
gun'yaku
require-
ments would admit of nothing else. Paradoxically, it had been far less
costly for daimyo to maintain armies in the Sengoku period, when
fighting was more or less constant, than it proved to be in the tranquil-
lity of the Tokugawa period.
In the sixteenth century, samurai had been mobilized only when
necessary and supported themselves by farming the rest of the time.
Whenever they did fight, they were subject to the full rigors of mili-
100 Susan B. Hanley and Kozo Yamamura,
Economic
and
Demographic
Change in Preindustrial
Japan, 1600-1868 (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1977), pp. 103-14.
101 Imaizumi, Nagaoka no rekishi, vol. 2, pp. 122-3.
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FINANCES 219
tary Darwinism: Only the fittest survived. Under the Tokugawa, how-
ever, the situation was totally different; the majority of samurai no
longer farmed but lived permanently on the payroll, whether in castle
towns or in Edo (where some
han
were known to keep as many as 30 to
40 percent of their samurai stationed permanently).
102
Further, be-
cause none of them ever fought, old samurai tended to fade away
rather than die, never so enfeebled as to be unable to draw their
stipends at twice-yearly intervals. Yet, no matter how crushing the
samurai incubus, no han could do much about it. Ogaki actually suc-
ceeded in ridding itself of 150 samurai in 1680, after having received
special permission from the bakufu, and in the late eighteenth century,
Yonezawa, attempting a gentler approach, suggested hopefully that
the second and third sons of its samurai families might like to find
alternate employment as farmers,
103
but these were the exceptions
rather than the rule.
Even by the bakufu's 1649 standardization of gun'yaku obliga-
tions,
104
which called upon even the smallest
han
to maintain a force of
235 men, Tokugawa Japan would have been spectacularly well en-
dowed with samurai. But the fact was that although the bakufu had
established a minimum figure for each han, it had deliberately re-
frained from setting a maximum. In the coda to its 1649 instructions,
it had effectively left open the way for
han
to employ as many samurai
as they wished, so long as they all were "loyal." It was not uncommon,
therefore, for
han
of comparable endowment to differ wildly from one
another in samurai numbers. Yonezawa, Takada, and Koriyama all
had much the same assessed productivity - roughly 150,000 koku -
but although the last two had no more than two thousand samurai
each, Yonezawa maintained four times that number.
105
More than
anything else, such discrepancies were due to differing histories. Both
Takada and Koriyama owed their creation to Tokugawa patronage in
the seventeenth century, and they were therefore able to employ just as
many men as required, and no more. Yonezawa, by contrast, had come
into being by a different route. It was in the hands of the Uesugi, a
family prominent in eastern Japan since the fourteenth century. They
had survived to enter the seventeenth century with both lands and
military machine largely intact but, on being deprived of half of the
102 Fukuyama-shi shi, pp. 469-70; Kimura and Sugimoto, eds., Fudai
hansei,
pp. 26-7.
103 Ogaki shiyakusho, ed., Ogaki-shi shi, 3 vols. (Ogaki, 1930), vol. 1, pp. 415-17; Tsuda,
"Kansei kaikaku," p. 278.
104 TKRK, vol. 1, pp. 90-2.
105 Hanseishi kenkyOkai, ed., Hansei
seiritsushi
no
sogd
kenkyu - Yonezawa han (Tokyo: Yoshi-
kawa kobunkan, 1963), p. 369.
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22O THE HAN
former in 1664, still found themselves prevented by old ties of loyalty
and obligation (and perhaps by fear of repercussions) from shedding
anything like half their vassals. Many other
han
- Choshu among
them - were similarly placed.
It was all an immense burden. Han did what they could with their
samurai, training and educating many of them for useful employment
as civil servants of one sort of another - magistrates, censors, school-
masters, secretaries, gamekeepers, policemen, foresters, bailiffs - and
appointing those left over to sonorous and virtually meaningless mili-
tary positions - guards, lancers, captains of
the
colors, and buglers (or
at least blowers of conch shells).
A glance at the administrative structure of any
han
shows a bewilder-
ing range of posts: about 150 of them in Sakura han and almost as
many in Owari.
106
Yet it was all so much window dressing. There was
simply not enough business to engage the services of such a vast
number of samurai - probably as many as 350,000 in the service of the
various han - all of the time. Even with rotation and rostering there
was not enough useful work to go around, so few could ever hope for
more than temporary employment. Their status, nevertheless, re-
mained constant, and so did their right to a basic salary. They served
merely as a standing army (perhaps lounging army would be more apt
a description), kept waiting for whatever emergency should arise.
Ironically, that emergency did not eventuate for over two hundred
years,
and when it did, it found them lamentably unprepared.
The other major drain on han finances was a by-product of the
sankin kotai system, under which daimyo were required to take up
residence in Edo every alternate year. No part of this ritual was ever
done cheaply. It was unthinkable, for example, that a daimyo should
sidle unobtrusively into Edo. Instead, he made it his business to set
out on his journey with as splendid an escort as possible. The daimyo
gyoretsu,
or procession, numbering as many as a thousand men with
spears and pennants, was one of the most splendid sights Tokugawa
Japan had to offer. It was also one of the most costly, for it was no easy
matter to move large numbers of men across Japan. In the case of the
more distant han, like Karatsu in north Kyushu, for example, when
the journey needed more than thirty overnight stops, the outlay for
food and shelter en route was enormous. Every other year Saga han,
106 Kimura and Sugimoto,
Fudai
hansei,
p.
21;
Hayashi Toichi,
Owari han no kohoshi no kenkyu
(Tokyo: Nippon gakujutsu shinkokai, 1962), pp. 153-6.
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FINANCES 221
Karatsu's near neighbor, customarily spent 20 percent of that year's
income on the journey alone.
107
Nor did the cost diminish once the daimyo and his retinue had
reached Edo. "Above all, we must economize when we are in Edo,"
warned the senior vassals of the daimyo of Karatsu in 1782, and not
without reason.
108
Virtually everything the daimyo and his vassals
needed for their stay in Edo, from food and fuel to paper and ink,
had to be bought there at Edo prices, almost always higher than
those current at home. There were, too, unremitting temptations to
spend - familiar enough to any urban society, but particularly in-
tense in a city where samurai from all over Japan competed with one
another in keeping up appearances. Each daimyo, too, no matter
how frugal by personal inclination, was caught up in the same con-
test and was obliged to live in a manner befitting his eminence, real
or pretended.
All of them therefore maintained mansions of some elegance, often
set in notable gardens, traces of which are still to be seen in
Tokyo:
the
Korakuen for example, once the property of Mito han, or the
Rikugien, which belonged to the Yanagisawa of Koriyama. It was
customary for han to have more than one such residence. The chief
one,
known as the
kami-yashiki,
functioned as a permanent legation,
where a staff of officials attended to the
han's
Edo business and where
the daimyo was housed during his sankin kotai stays. A secondary
residence, or
naka-yashiki,
accommodated the daimyo's heir apparent
but also provided shelter for the daimyo whenever necessary, as, for
example, on the many occasions when the official residence had been
either destroyed by fire or was being rebuilt in readiness for the next.
It was common, too, for
han
to have yet another residence, this time a
shimo-yashiki,
or holiday house, in some distant quarter of the city, to
which the daimyo and his family could repair during the worst of the
summer heat. As reported in the Edo
zusetsu
of 1799, there were 265
official residences and another 734 secondary residences and holiday
houses scattered around the city.
109
Compared with such massive outlays, the normal run of expenses
back in the han seems rather meager. It was expected, and indeed
often explicitly stated, that the
han
themselves were to be administered
107 Karatsu-shi shi, p. 617; Sasaki Junnosuke, Daimyo to
hyakusho,
vol. 15 oiChuo
koron
Nikon
no
rekishi
(Tokyo:
Chud koronsha, 1966), p. 156.
108 Matsuyoshi Sadao, Kanemochi daimyo bimbo daimyo (Tokyo: Jimbutsu oraisha, 1964), p. 69.
109 Cited in Fujino, Daimyo, p. 95.
Cambridge Histories Online © Cambridge University Press, 2008
222 THE HAN
as conservatively as possible, eschewing all expenses not absolutely
necessary to their primary function of feeding the samurai and main-
taining the system. Typically, budgets began and ended with the needs
of the samurai class (stipends and education) and their obligations
{han
defense and alternate attendance). The needs of the remaining 90
percent of han population figure only occasionally and grudgingly in
han ledgers, and then only in times of crisis. Under normal circum-
stances they were left to fend for themselves, their lives, customs, and
amusements frequently the subject of han regulation, but never its
object. All they gained in return for their taxes was the attempted
perpetuation of conditions under which their future contributions to
han finances might be maximized.
In any case, no han could really have afforded to do anything more
for its common people. As it was, with revenues stagnant or declining
and enormous commitments in Edo and to their samurai, it was more
and more difficult for the han to balance their budgets. It is hardly
necessary to go through the dispiriting roll call of those han that
tottered through the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries (and
even part of the seventeenth century) poised precariously on the knife-
edge between indigence and bankruptcy. It was a state common to
them all, to a greater or lesser degree, and their responses to it were
broadly similar. The instinctive reaction to the crisis, when it first
appeared, was for han governments to accuse the common people of
living above their station and to call upon them to spend less and
surrender more. Next came internal economy drives, initially for fixed
periods (five years being the favored figure), but sooner or later these
periods became consecutive; one such initiative launched by Kana-
zawa han in 1779 was still in force twenty years later.
110
At such times
not even the daimyo's own household expenses escaped scrutiny, a fact
that was sometimes known to drive needy daimyo into the welcoming
arms of the pawnbrokers. It was in precisely such circumstances that
Sakai Tadazane of Shonai came to pledge two family heirlooms - a
noted tea bowl and a painting - for a thousand gold pieces. His succes-
sor, Tadayori, beset by similar difficulties, did the same with his wife's
hair ornaments, originally part of her dowry.
111
Overwhelmingly, however, han governments confronted the finan-
cial crisis with the help of moneylenders, usually the great merchant
houses of Osaka and Kyoto - the Konoike (who had thirty-one in-
debted han on their books by the end of the seventeenth century),"
2
no Ibid., p. 207. in
Tsuruoka-shi
shi, pp. 326, 336. 112 Fujino, Daimyo, p. 163.
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FINANCES 223
the Sumitomo, the Masuya, and others - but gradually coming to rely
on local merchants as well.
The borrowing had in fact begun very early, particularly in the case
of
han
like Sendai, Choshu, Satsuma, Saga, and Tosa, all of which were
compelled to contribute heavily to the bakufu's castle-building projects
at the beginning of the seventeenth century."
3
By the end of that
century, however, and long after the heaviest of bakufu impositions had
been met, every
han
had gone into
debt.
Few of them ever emerged, for
the interest on those debts (usually from 5 to 7 percent per annum)"
4
was to prove beyond the resources of all but the very richest of han.
Tosa, by 1688, was spending 34 percent of its budget repaying loans;
Hiroshima, across the Inland Sea, unable to meet even the interest on
its debt, owed the Konoike house a sum that in 1745 had grown pre-
cisely ten-fold since 1719; for Okayama, by 1829, payments to money-
lenders had come to represent the largest single item in its annual
budget."
5
The han had thus built such a superstructure of debt for
themselves that only the most draconian measures -
the
unilateral repu-
diation of all debts, for example"
6
- could set them free. Budget defi-
cits and chronic debts were as much a part of
han
life as they are of our
own, and no matter how much contemporaries deplored them, it is
certain that they, like ourselves, also learned to live with them, at least
until the cataclysmic events of the mid-nineteenth century.
There were just two other avenues open to han wishing to enhance
their finances. In most cases, neither of them proved to be anything
more than a mild palliative, leaving the superstructure of
han
debts
largely untouched. Both of them, however, were of some political
significance. In following one of them,
han
governments found them-
selves at odds with local residents; in following the other, they were to
erode their relations with their own samurai. Nevertheless, given the
circumstances in which they found themselves, the
han
had little alter-
native but to pursue them both.
The first was essentially a reaction to the commercial development
of the Tokugawa period, in which the medieval ideal of individual
self-
sufficiency crumbled under the pressures of commercial farming and
specialized manufacture. It was not long before the
han
governments
responded to the change, with mercantilist policies that encouraged
local products with protection inside the domain (to stop money from
113 Ibid., p. 200; Sasaki, Daimyo, pp. 132-3. 114 Fujino, Daimyo, p. 164.
115 Hirao Michio,
Tosa
han (Tokyo: Yoshikawa kobunkan, 1965), pp. 33-34; Aono, Daimyo, p.
73;
Taniguchi, Okayama kansei, p. 160.
116 Bolitho, "The Tempo Crisis," pp. 32-3.
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224
THE
leaving the han) and outside with purposeful marketing (to bring
money into the han). This attention proved a mixed blessing to local
producers, however.
Those who benefited by protection - the ink makers of Aizu, for
example, freed from competition by a ban on imported ink in 1791 -
could not have been more pleased.
117
Such was not the case, though,
with producers of more highly prized commodities.
As
the indigo grow-
ers of Tokushima, the madder growers of Yonezawa, the lacquer makers
of Aizu, the potters of
Saga,
and countless other farmers and craftsmen
were to discover, few
han
could resist trying to siphon away the profits.
The experience of the Karatsu paper-mulberry growers in this regard is
fairly typical. With their crop subject to compulsory acquisition orders
by the
han
and with severe punishment threatened for anyone attempt-
ing to evade such orders, they were obliged to sell what they grew to
none but authorized buyers, and at a third of the price obtainable
outside the domain.'
l8
The
han,
having bought cheaply, intended to sell
dear elsewhere and to pocket the proceeds. Indeed, quite often in such
cases,
local producers were to be paid in
hansatsu,
han
paper currency,
worth virtually nothing outside the
han
borders and little more
inside.
It
was a tidy scheme, but it did not often work. Inevitably there was
resistance. The Karatsu case is no less typical in this respect, for its
paper-mulberry farmers rioted in 1771, as did cotton farmers in
Fukuyama in
1752,
Matsuyama tea growers in
1741,
Oka tobacco grow-
ers
in
1811,
and innumerable other farmers and craftsmen and manufac-
turers at various times during the Tokugawa period.
119
So fierce were
these protests, and so determined and inventive local producers in
evading official directives, that few han managed to recoup their fi-
nances as easily as they had originally hoped. Nevertheless, illusion
though it may have been, it was virtually the last one that most
han
had,
and they therefore clung to it all the more tenaciously.
The remaining possibility for han intent on relieving financial
pressures was yet another form of borrowing. This time, however,
rather than from the great merchant houses, which always had to
be appeased in some way, loans were levied from a captive source -
the samurai themselves. Such inroads into samurai salaries began
quite early in the Tokugawa period: as early as 1623 in Choshu,
1639 in Hiroshima, the 1650s in Fukuyama, and the 1670s in
117 Aizu-Wakamatsu-shi, vol. 9, p. 238. 118 Karalsu-shi shi, p. 621.
119 Ibid., p. 593; Fukuyama-shi shi, p. 537; Aono, Daimyo, p. 187; Kishida Tsutomu, "Kyushu
no bunjinga," in Mikami Tsugio, ed., Kyushu no ega to
tdgei
(Tokyo: Heibonsha, 1975), p.
246.
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