Today’s story exemplifies some of Edo period Japan’s cherished ideals. The character is a poor peddler, yet he shows both bravery and filial piety — two traits usually considered to be very “samurai” in spirit. As a reward, he becomes rich and gets to care for his beloved parents in the best way possible. Not all yokai stories are as moralizing as this one, although plenty are. But it is nice to have a happy ending once in a while, and not just tragic death like last night’s story!

How Attachment to Money Became a Strange Light in Tsu, Ise Province

In a place called Ieshiro Village in Tsu, Ise Province, there was a house in which a monster lived, and which had stood vacant for some thirty years. Long ago, the couple who lived in this house both died from a sudden illness, and because they had no children, their family died out.

Sometimes strange lights would appear, while sometimes fires would ignite. And other times male and female voices could be heard saying, “This is your fault!” and “No, this is your fault, and I am suffering for it!” and things like that.

One time a peddler from Kyōto, around twenty years old, came to this place. When the locals told him about the apparitions, the peddler said, “Tonight I will go and see this monster for myself.”

The locals told him, “That’s pointless. Even the samurai from here could not endure a single night there and fled.”

The peddler’s parents were both still living. He was a pious son who had been supporting them as a traveling merchant since the age of eleven, yet he was poor and things did not usually go the way he wished. However, he was an experienced man, and so he said, “In any case, I will go and see this monster. In this world, there are no monsters except those in our hearts.”

That night he went to the house and, as expected, right at the hour of the rat (around midnight) two balls of fire arose out of the well and lit up the inside of the house. It was too terrifying to describe in words. After that, an elderly couple with snow-white hair appeared and said to the peddler:

“We are the masters of this house. We died together, due to a sudden illness, but we stashed a great amount of gold and silver in this well. Our souls are attached to this money, and so we cannot float up to heaven but have been trapped in the space between worlds for over thirty years. If someone were to live in this house, we would tell this to them, and ask them to perform our funeral; however, everyone is too scared to come close. You have a brave heart, and on top of that you love your parents, so we give this money to you. Take good care of your parents, and also perform a funeral for us. This coming August 5th will be the 33rd anniversary of our deaths.”

Then they vanished into thin air.

The peddler rejoiced, and when he looked inside the well he saw countless gold and silver coins. He drew it all up, and with that money he built a temple on the house’s estate, hired a priest, and held a splendid funeral. From then on, the strange lights never appeared again.

Afterwards, the peddler returned to his parents in Kyōto with the remainder of the money, and cared for them as his heart desired.

Everybody was moved by the peddler’s actions, and said that this was all possible thanks to his filial piety.

Hello readers!

Today is October 1st, and that means two things:

1) My Kickstarter is live! Check it out here, and remember that if you pledge today you get a free metal yokai pin badge as an early bird reward! We’ve already had an amazing launch day so far, so thank you to everyone who has already joined!

2) It’s time for A-Yokai-A-Day, my annual tradition going back to 2009, where I paint and introduce one yokai every day to celebrate Halloween month (the best month of the year)!

If you’re new to A-Yokai-A-Day, you can read the archives here on my blog. For the past three years, I have been translating Shokoku hyakumonogatari (One Hundred Stories from Various Provinces), an edo period collection of 100 ghost stories, during A-Yokai-A-Day. You can catch yourself up and read the first 93 stories here: part 1, part 2, part 3.

If you did the math, you’ll know that there are only 7 stories left in Shokoku hyakumonogatari. Once those are done, I will move on to sharing selected stories from Mimibukuro (Ear Bag). Mimibukuro is a collection of stories from all around Japan heard by a samurai who was working on Sado Island in the Edo period. He collected 1000 stories in many volumes. Not all of them are ghost/yokai stories, but many are, and I will be picking out tales from those. If you enjoy these stories, remember there are years of A-Yokai-A-Day to comb through, so please check them out!

So! Before we move on to today’s story and the start of A-Yokai-A-Day, I will do one last Kickstarter plug! If you like the style of stories found in A-Yokai-A-Day, then you will absolutely want to check out my Kickstarter! Unlike my previous 5 books, which are all encyclopedic in style, Echizen-Wakasa Kidan is a collection of translated tales, just like Shokoku hyakumonogatari. Backers will get to have their name printed in the book as a thank you for making this project come to life. And we have some amazing and unique traditional Japanese crafts on offer as well. I hope you’ll join!

Ok, now on to today’s story!

How Kurita Saemon-no-suke’s Wife Died and Came Back to Wrestle

In the household of the lord of Kaga lived a samurai named Kurita Saemon-no-suke who held a fief of 800 koku. His wife was the daughter of another retainer within the same household and renowned for her beauty, however, she suffered from tuberculosis and died. Saemon-no-suke was overcome with grief, and lived for three years without taking a new wife, but then his relatives came by and strongly pressured him to remarry. They introduced him to the seventeen year old daughter of Nitta Rokurōbei from Owari, a samurai of 500 koku.

Thirty days passed, and Saemon-no-suke was placed on watch duty at the castle. His new wife was reclining by the kotatsu when an eighteen or nineteen year old girl wearing a white kimono with circular patterns on it and a silk kerchief approached her bed. The girl said to the wife, “You there, what are you doing here?”

The wife was surprised, and she replied, “Who are you to speak to me in such a manner?”

“I am the lady of this house,” replied the girl.

Hearing this, the wife replied, “I know nothing about that, for I was only recently married into this house. Your anger is quite justified. However, Lord Saemon-no-suke’s actions are unbecoming of a samurai. To have a wife as beautiful as you and then to take another wife is extremely infuriating. I believe Lord Saemon-no-suke will return early tomorrow morning, however, as we are both women, please allow me enough time to speak with him on this matter.”

“Take as much time as you need, and then return to your family. Well now, I am satisfied,” said the woman. Then she turned to leave and vanished into thin air.

When Saemon-no-suke returned from the castle, his wife said, “Please grant me a divorce.”

“What would make you say this all of a sudden! Tell me what happened,” he said.

“My lord, you have done something unbecoming of a samurai. You married me while you already had a lawful wife. It is such a dirty thing to do! Please grant me a divorce this instant,” she begged.

Saemon-no-suke replied, “I have no idea what you are talking about. As I told you when we first met, my wife died three years ago, and since then I have had no other wife except for you!”

He swore to this firmly. Then, his wife told him everything about the woman who appeared the previous night.

Hearing this, Saemon-no-suke said, “Well now, that must have been the ghost of my wife who died three years ago. There can be no other explanation. Upon this I will stake my life. Therefore, you must stay here. I will not grant you a divorce.”

His word was final, and the wife had no choice but to stay.

Later, on a night when Saemon-no-suke was watching the castle again, the first wife returned and said, “Well, well. Even though you made a firm promise before, you have not returned to your family. How bitterly I resent you!”

The wife replied, “My lady, you are no longer part of this world. Why do you remain so deeply attached to this world? You must return to your own world.”

The first wife replied, “If you refuse to go back to your family, then let us wrestle for it. If you lose, you will return to your family. If I lose, I will never come here again.”

No sooner had she spoken than she leapt forward. The wife said, “I’m ready!” and met her challenge. As they wrestled, pushing and shoving, Saemon-no-suke returned, and the ghost vanished into thin air.

After that, when Saemon-no-suke was on watch duty, the ghost came to wrestle the wife five times. The wife was deeply distressed by this. She began to lose weight and grew thin, then she fell ill and before long she died.

In her final moments she turned to Saemon-no-suke and said, “The ghost who first came to me in secret, and then appeared over and over again to torment me… I was so afraid of it, but I resolved to endure, because I pledged my life to you upon our marriage. Now I die like this. Please give me a nice funeral. Don’t tell my parents about this.”

Saying this, she passed away. Saemon-no-suke grieved for her, and held a funeral. He wrote a farewell letter and sent it to her parents, then he became a monk, and traveled throughout the country practicing Buddhist teachings.

Happy Halloween!

Today marks the end of A-Yokai-A-Day — a day that is always both sad and a relief for me, as I enjoy doing this project so much, but it’s also exhausting. If you’ve enjoyed A-Yokai-A-Day, I hope you’ll consider becoming a patron (even for just $1!) to help me continue sharing new yokai tales year-round. Patreon is a major source of my income, and I couldn’t do this without the help of all of my patrons. You can become a patron here.

Tonight’s story is about lacquer, and take place place in an area of Tanba Province which is now part of Kyoto. There’s a very similar story from here in Fukui, another famous lacquerware center. So like many folktales, this is one that probably has local variations anywhere that lacquer was produced.

I’ve had the pleasure of learning a lot about lacquer since living in Fukui. Not far from my home is a place where they make traditional lacquerware in the old fashioned way. I’ve visited there several times, and the skill of the artisans as well as the variety of products that can be made are fascinating! Lacquer itself is an interesting substance. It’s basically a kind of tree sap which is very toxic and will give you a really horrible, blistering rash if you touch it. So artisans have to be careful when working with it. It also has this weird property where it dries when it gets wet. It can be used just like oil paint when pigments are added to it, but when it comes into contact with water (or even humid air) it will dry fairly quickly and harden into a very tough substance. That is a key fact to remember during tonight’s story, so keep that in mind!

The Man From Saiki Village in Tanba Province Who Became an Oni While Still Living

There was a poor man in Saiki Village in Tanba Province. He was exceedingly devoted to his parents. One day when he went to gather firewood in the mountains, he went down into the valley to drink and he saw something that looked like a large cow lying down under the water. Mystified, he looked closely and discovered that it was a hardened lump of lacquer that had been flowing down from the mountain year after year.

Thinking that this was a blessing from heaven, he began collecting the lacquer and taking it to Hida and to the capital to sell, and he became very wealthy.

His next door neighbor was an evil man, and when he heard about this situation he planned to somehow stop the man from coming there so that he could collect the lacquer for himself. He put on a large chamfron and a red wig made of yak fur so that he looked like an oni. Then he dove down into the water and waited for the man to arrive. As usual, he came to collect the lacquer, but this time he saw an oni at the bottom of the water and he ran away in fear.

The evil man was overjoyed that his plan worked, but when he tried to get out of the water he found that he could not move. He died, still in his oni disguise.

Tonight’s story is wonderfully silly. And the yokai in this story is a rare one! Instead of a tanuki, yūrei, or a daija, as this book is fond of, we have something like a kodama. To be more specific, this is the spirit of an enoki mushroom, which for some reason or another, has decided to play pranks on humans. Wonderful! Everything about this story, from the evil mushroom, to the ridiculous actor, to the way the mushroom is defeated, is just silly. I love it.

How Mankichi Tayū Became a Bakemono’s Master

In Kamitachiuri, Kyōto there was a sarugaku master named Mankichi Tayū. His noh acting was poor, and when his money ran out he decided to head to Ōsaka. On the way, he stopped to relax and drink tea at a roadside teahouse in Hirakata. It was almost dusk, so he said to the teahouse owner, “I would like to stay here for one night.”

The teahouse owner replied, “That is no problem, except that there is a bakemono who comes here every night and takes people. So we won’t be here at night.”

Mankichi replied, “Even so, I don’t mind.” And he spent that night at the roadside teahouse.

At around midnight, sure enough, he heard the sound of someone crossing the river from the other side. When he looked, he saw a rich monk standing over two meters tall. Mankichi called out to the monk:

“No, no, that kind of transformation is no good. You’re still a novice.”

The monk replied, “What kind of person are you to speak in such a way?”

Mankichi said, “I am a bakemono from the capital, and I heard that a bakemono lives around here, so I came to meet him and see how skilled he is. If he is skilled, I thought I would take him as my master, and if he is unskilled, I thought I would take him as an apprentice. That’s why I’m staying at this teahouse.”

The monk said, “In that case, show me your transformation skills.”

“Very well,” said Mankichi. And he took his noh costumes out of his pack and dressed himself up as an oni.

The monk was impressed and said, “Well now, you’re very good! Next, turn into a woman.”

“Very well,” said Mankichi. And he turned himself into a woman.

The monk replied, “I am amazed at how skilled you are! I would like to ask you to become my master from now on. I am a mushroom who lives under a hackberry tree across the river. I’ve been living here and bothering the people nearby for several years.”

Mankichi asked, “What is your least favorite thing?”

“I can’t stand soup made from miso that has been fermented for three years,” replied the monk. “And what is your least favorite thing?”

Mankichi answered, “I can’t stand freshly caught and cooked sea bream. If I eat it, I will just die right away!”

As they spoke, the dawn was beginning to break. The monk said farewell and went back across the river.

Mankichi dayū told all of the people of Hirakata and Takatsuki about his meeting with the bakemono and their conversation. Then they all gathered together and boiled some miso that had been fermenting for three years. When they poured it on the mushroom underneath the hackberry tree, it immediately shriveled up and disappeared. The bakemono was never seen after that.

Jealousy once again rears its ugly head! It’s a very common theme in Shokoku hyakumonogatari. In fact, tonight’s story contains quite a few repeated themes that we’ve seen throughout this book. But what I find more interesting is what it doesn’t say.

For one, why did the wife murder Momiji? It seems quite extreme, even for the most jealous person in the world, to murder someone just for being beautiful. After all, Momiji was just a maidservant. The wife could have easily fired her. And why, in the end, does Shume become a monk? If his wife murdered the maidservant, the proper thing for a samurai to do would be for Shume to put his wife to death as a murderer. And why does Momiji’s ghost appear with the lower half of her clothing soaked in blood?

These questions all point to an unsaid answer: that Shume was sleeping with Momiji and got her pregnant. This explains the bloodstained clothing; Momiji’s ghost appears in the form of an ubume — a ghost associated with pregnancy and childbirth. It also explains why the wife was upset enough to kill the girl. And, as Shume wasn’t innocent himself, he had no recourse to punish his wife, and instead he became a monk to atone for his own sins.

The Jealousy of Shibata Shume’s Wife

In Miyazu, Tango there was a man named Shibata Shume. His wife was a jealous woman, and she suspected that Shume had his eye on their beautiful maidservant Momiji. One time, after Shume went to Edo, she tossed Momiji into a well and then sealed her inside, killing her.

When Shume returned from Edo he asked his wife, “Why did you dig a new well?”

She answered him, “It suddenly collapsed so I had to dig a new one.”

“Where is Momiji?” asked Shume.

“She quit,” replied the wife.

Shume was suspicious, but he let the matter pass.

Shume had three children, but they suddenly became ill and within 40 or 50 days all three of them died. Shume and his wife were overcome with grief and endless sorrow. Around that time, Shume’s wife was pregnant, and before long she gave birth without incident. The child was a blessing in the middle of their grief, and they showered him with affection.

Before long, the child turned three years old. He suffered repeatedly from epileptic convulsions, and they tried all sorts of treatments, but none had any effect. A rōnin acquaintance of Shume’s knew of a skilled acupuncturist, and brought him to see the child. After the acupuncture treatment, the child recovered a little bit, so Shume asked him to stay the night.

Since it was summer, the rōnin and the acupuncturist hung up a mosquito net and left the area open while they talked. While they talked, they heard the sound of geta from the alley. When they checked to see who it was, they saw a girl. From the waist down, she was stained with blood; her body-length hair was standing on end; and her face was emaciated and blue-tinged. She stepped up onto the veranda. The acupuncturist nearly fainted, and cowered in the corner. The rōnin said, “Who goes there?”

“I am a maidservant who was employed by this house, but the lady of the house, in her jealousy, falsely accused me, murdered me, and buried me at the bottom of the well. I have already taken my revenge on three of her children, and now I have come to take her fourth. No matter how much money you spend on treating him, it will not won’t be enough,” replied the girl. Then she vanished into thin air.

At that moment, they heard a scream from the back room. When they went to check, they found that the child was already dead.

Afterwards, the rōnin told Shume everything that had happened. Shume was shocked, and he divorced his wife and became a monk himself.