Kyu-Hosokawa Gyobutei

Article posted on Saturday, February, 12th, 2011 at 11:31 pm

Today we’re going to visit the Kyū-Hosokawa Gyōbutei. At times, misleadingly billed as a Daimyō’s residence, it actually started life as a second home for Okitaka, whose brother was the Daimyō. So, while not actually being a Daimyo’s residence, it remains a fine example of a home belonging to the upper echelons of the then ruling military class.

The building complex was built soon after 1646. Between the years of 1688 and 1711, it was remodelled & expanded on several occasions. It wasn’t until the age of the samurai had passed that it became the primary residence of Okitaka’s descendants. In 1985, it was designated an Important Cultural Property of Kumamoto Prefecture.

Location and layout

From 1990 and lasting 4 years, all buildings were moved to their current location from Higashi kokai, approximately one-and-a-half kilometres to the East of where it now stands.

The image above represents the site of Kumamoto castle. To the extreme left of the map is the Kyū-Hosokawa Gyōbutei compound. This part of the castle is known as the San-no-maru, and is in the North-West corner of the castle grounds.

Entry is gained via the Nagaya-mon. This type of gate more closely resembles a simple, rectangular building with double doors allowing passage through it.

Follow the short path and you’ll arrive at the entrance, and like so many others, it features a beautiful kara-hafu style gable. Naturally, the shoes will have to come off.

The first few rooms are where visitors could be greeted. As you make your way around in an anti-clockwise direction, you’ll then pass through the guest quarters. Continuing on, you’ll pass through the study, where high-ranking guests were entertained, then on to the private chambers of the Lord and his family.

The final major wing contains the amenities and the servants’ quarters.

The living quarters

The rooms are plainly decorated yet elegant. Most rooms contain simple exhibits such as furniture, cosmetics boxes and other small furnishings.

Amenities

The wing containing the kitchen and the servants’ quarters was perhaps the most interesting.

Shown here is the kitchen, and you can see large pots and a sink in the background. Just out of frame is a refrigerator, covered with magnets & old fast-food menus.
 

Servant’s living quarters

Climbing these stairs isn’t allowed, so we’ll just have to settle for this shot. What I can tell you is that you’d find a pretty spartan room, not even any tatami flooring. That was reserved for the head male & female servants (which are down-stairs).

A quiet corner

I don’t think this room is anything particular special. I just like the shot. Aside for the three lanterns, there is a Jingasa, not exactly a helmet but simple head wear for those in the military. As for the room’s location, it sits to the right of the main entrance.

Funai Castle’s Edo-period survivors

Article posted on Sunday, January, 9th, 2011 at 4:42 pm

I remember it as if it were only last year. Actually, it could’ve been the year before that… Okay, there are some grey areas, but please bear with me. That’s right, I was on my way to see Usuki Castle and had about 30 spare minutes in Ōita city. More than long enough for me to at least attempt tracking down a castle. Here’s how I spent that time:

• The first 10 – Me jogging & swivelling my head in search of signs of the castle.
• The middle 10 – Me taking photos & dodging the elderly. (I think there was an Enka concert on.)
• The final 10 – Me sprinting back to the station to catch the next express train.

Funai Castle

There isn’t a great deal of accessible information out there on Ōita city’s Funai castle (府内城). Of note though, it was Ōtomo Sōrin who was holed-up here awaiting the assistance of a certain Mr Toyotomi Hideyoshi (who would come the following year, in 1587) having over extending himself down the coast. Perhaps, more on that another time.

The Two Towers

Just two buildings have managed to survive that date from the Edo period (or earlier). The first I’ll introduce is the Hitojichi Turret (人質櫓). That very turret is pictured below and is a two-story corner turret. The thick, plastered walls have the look of a home-made, fibreglass ice-box – smooth but irregular. Sorry if my analogy is lost on you. Oh, and it was built in 1861, just scraping into the end of the Edo period.

The second of the two buildings is the Shumon Turret (宗門櫓). This oddity was rebuilt in 1863, two years after the Hitojichi Turret. So, why is it odd? How about because it’s a Hira-yagura (single story turret) of one-and-a-half levels? And, it looks like you need to scramble up the stone foundations to reach the door. I suppose you could enter through the basement door. Its name is odd too. I can only suspect it had some religious purpose.

A final word

Both of these precious buildings, despite their relative youth, show signs of decay. Weeds grow from gaps in the roof tiles and in places, surface plaster has been lost, exposing a rotting sub-structure. Looks like I’m not the only one suffering at the hands of Japan’s heat, cold, rain & humidity.

Let us hope they (and me) are around for a while yet.

Jin’ya – A castle that isn’t a castle.

Article posted on Wednesday, July, 14th, 2010 at 5:47 pm

Jin’ya?
Castle in Japanese – 城, represented a lot of things. It ranged from something massive and modern like Nagoya or Himeji castles right down to the simplest of stockade, which is probably now nothing more than a site marker in the form of a post in the ground.

It is a little confusing then, that there was a particular type of fortification that served many of the same functions as any large, Edo-period castle but was instead known as a Jin’ya. Well, just to be clear, they would never have been able to withstand any sustained assault but it was from within their offices that the domain was administered, just like at the larger castles.

…Jin’ya??
Jin’ya, written as 陣屋, can be a little tricky to translate. Depending on your source, the following words may pop up: Magistrate’s office, Encampment, Government house, etc…

Generally, Jin’ya were located in domains valued up to 30,000 koku – which is what Wikipedia says. According to a recent book purchase though, it seems there were plenty of domains valued over the 30,000-koku figure. Akizuki Jin’ya in Fukuoka Prefecture for example, was valued at 50,000 koku at one point. And, I’m not having a go at Wikipedia’s contributers. To be honest, the average koku value does tend to hover around the 30,000 mark.

Jin’ya were found all over Japan, and in rather large numbers. Many were built on land held by the Tokugawa Shogunate and others were set-up by Daimyo as mini-domains within their own borders. Some were even established at decommissioned castles. Nagayama Jin’ya in Oita prefecture to name just one.

Akizuki Jin’ya / Jō
Depending on which resource you refer to, the H.Q. of a certain Kuroda Nagaoki (third son of Kuroda Nagamasa) in 1623 was Akizuki castle (秋月城) or Akizuki Jin’ya (秋月陣屋). Whatever its label, let’s have a look at how it may have once looked:

Akizuki Jin'ya

The rear & the side defences cannot clearly be understood viewing this scale model. After refering to my field notes, those three sides were inaccessable due to a creek & embankments. Along the front however is a moat, several multi-story turrets & a main gate. Perhaps it also isn’t so clear but their are two enclosures. One containing the offices and an “L” shaped horse stable. The other presumably containing the lord’s residence.

In conclusion
So, there you have it folks. I hope I’ve been able to clear up what a Jin’ya is and isn’t. In the end, I’m not so sure if I have. Suffice it to say, It’s a Jin’ya if it says it’s a Jin’ya.

All roads lead to Edo

Article posted on Saturday, June, 12th, 2010 at 1:09 pm

Finally, another post. And, finally another video. Does this video actually answer any questions? I’m not really sure. It’s just me driving around the neighbourhood.

Despite the relative newness of the area I live in, there does seem to be a lot of historically notable things. This is in stark contrast from where I grew up in Australia. Anyway, one of the backstreets has a rather interesting past indeed.

Daimyo of 1867

Article posted on Tuesday, April, 6th, 2010 at 9:47 pm

A while back I got an email out of the blue from someone requesting use of one of my castle photos for a book. How cool is that? Fast-forward to the present day, this morning in fact, and waiting in my in-box was an email informing me that the book containing the requested photo had just been published. It isn’t the National Geographic, but I for one am pretty thrilled.

I should point out that what follows isn’t a critical review, the book is neither sitting in front of me, nor did pay enough attention during class in high school if it were.

What I do know is that this isn’t your average book of the samurai of the Edo-period. Yes, it is filled with all the important names, dates, places, events & background information that should be there, but it is actually targeted toward people wanting to use the Edo period as the setting of their creative masterpieces.

I might just leave it there because there’s no point to me just repeating everything that’s in the press release or on the publisher’s home page. But, I suggest you click on those links if you’d like to get a better idea of what the book has to offer & to see some selected pages.

What is well worth mentioning is the fact that Tadashi Ehara, the book’s author, has made the offer of a 33% discount exclusively to JCE blog readers (that’s you guys!) Just get in contact by commenting below, by email (kyushudan [at] yahoo.com.au) or direct message on Twitter for those who are interested. Thank you Tadashi.

For the sake of transparency, I’d just like to say that I won’t be receiving any commission or reward if you decide to buy this book. One more thing. The photo I provided it that of Hirado castle.