The daimyō in most cases had to make a periodical stay of one year every other year, in Edo. When they were on the road, they and their attendants formed a considerable spectacle: not that the populace stood and watched them go by, for the leaders of the procession shouted “Down! Down!” and all had to prostrate themselves until the column had passed. An incident right at the end of the Tokugawa period, in 1861, when the first breaches in the seclusion of Japan had been made, illustrates the respect that was thought due on such occasions. The daimyō of Satsuma was returning to his domain, and when he and his retinue were nearing Yokohama, where there was already a settlement of foreign merchants, four British subjects tried to ride through the procession. The samurai drew their swords, and of the intruders one died and two were injured. This action of the foreigners showed what might now be seen as a shocking ignorance of the customs of the country, but the spirit of the times is indicated by the fact that the town of Kagoshima was bombarded as a reprisal, and eventually a large indemnity was paid to Britain. There were occasions when a procession might run into a different kind of trouble, especially in Kyoto: this was because a daimyō might be inferior in rank to an aristocrat from the Imperial Palace, although the latter was politically powerless. The appearance of such a personage in the vicinity of a procession would have caused no small confusion, with the daimyō having to get out of his palanquin to prostrate himself in the roadway. However, these aristocrats were in fairly impoverished circumstances and not unwilling to augment their scanty official incomes, so some were not above hinting that unless they were suitably rewarded, they might well find they had business at the critical time and place.
However, the processions normally proceeded uninterrupted, along the highways of Japan which linked Edo and the great cities and domains, the most important being the Eastern Sea Road, the Tōkaiō; it was at the time the world’s busiest highway, running between what were then two of the world’s largest cities, for it went from the Shogun’s capital to that of the Emperor, with a branch to the great shrine of Ise, and extending on to Osaka. Perhaps the greatest contrast between these highways and comparable ones in Europe was that there was no wheeled traffic on them. Carriages drawn by oxen were the perquisite of the Imperial court, and these would occasionally be seen around the streets and avenues of Kyoto. Some festivals employed wheeled carts in pageants, but such carts were ungainly vehicles with a fixed wheelbase, and drawn by crowds of men. Sometimes the transport of heavy loads, such as big stones for castle walls, would necessitate the use of wheeled wagons. None of these, however, affected the great highways, where travelers went on foot, or rode horses, or were carried in kago, palanquins like boxes suspended from a pole which the bearers bore on their shoulders. Hence no great width of roadway was required, and as there were no carts to make ruts or get stuck in them, metalling was unnecessary, for it takes extremely bad conditions to prevent men and plodding horses from getting through.
(16) Ferryboat on the Tōkaidō. In the background is the familiar silhouette of Mt Fuji.
The roads were often marked by rows of trees planted close together on both sides, either tall cedars (cryptomeria) or pine trees, their purpose being to define the road and prevent travelers wandering off it, and also to provide shade from sun and shelter from rain and snow. Across mountain terrain the roads would become narrower and more difficult, although well engineered. River-crossings were considerable obstacles, for there were few bridges in the country as opposed to the towns, where bridges were a common feature. Japanese rivers usually have wide beds, along which for much of the year the flow of water is divided into relatively narrow streams, at which time they did not present serious obstacles to travelers. Ferryboats were used (16), and in some places porters carried people or their burdens through the water on their shoulders or on their heads. When floods came down, such crossings would become temporarily impassable and traffic be brought to an enforced halt; not for long, however, for water subsides quickly in Japan.
It would seem that the government was faced with a dilemma with regard to roads. On the one hand, good communication was necessary between Edo and the provinces, to enable officials and messengers to go speedily from one place to another; on the other, the Shogun’s fear of rebellion and armed attack made him wish to restrict freedom of movement for those who were not traveling in his service. He achieved these ends partly by making the roads suitable only for foot and horse traffic, and partly by keeping in existence the system of barriers that had been in use since early times, thus using the roads themselves as controls on movement along them. It was a serious offence to try to evade the check of the officials at the barriers by taking to the fields in an attempt to bypass them, so that having to go through these barriers, of which it is estimated that more than 70 existed, had the double effect of forcing everyone to go along the roads provided, while being kept under close supervision.
An important function of this control at the barriers was to prevent the daimyō from moving any of his family out of Edo without permission; in particular the road-watchers had to make sure that no women moved out with the processions. Women who traveled had to carry a special certificate of authorization which carried a full description, and they often underwent a considerable ordeal of search and interrogation at the barriers—and the higher the rank, the worse it might be. Another careful watch was kept to see that no arms, especially firearms, in sufficient quantities to be used in a revolt, were taken into Edo. Restrictions extended to the number of a daimyō’s attendants: for example, under the eighth Shogun (Yoshimune, 1716-45), it was laid down that daimyō rated at 200,000 koku or more were to have with them 120-30 foot soldiers and 250-300 servants and porters, while those of 100,000 koku or more could have 80 and 140-80 respectively. These numbers, when account is taken of the higher-grade samurai who were also accompanying their lord, were big enough to make these processions a considerable drain on daimyō resources, but not big enough for them to constitute a threat to the central government.
The highways were divided off into stages, at each of which was a post-station, whose duty it was to have horses and porters available for the next stage (17). The whole system was administered by an office of the government, by whom the charges for use of the service were fixed. Certain government officials were given passes which entitled them to one horse and three men free of charge. Daimyō on an official journey were charged a special low rate up to a certain maximum, over which they had to pay standard charges. They also gave notice of their plans beforehand, so that post-stations and inns could prepare what was necessary. The responsibility for providing horses and men was imposed on the local farmers, and this was just one of the ways in which they were parasitized by the samurai.
The daimyō procession was an impressive sight, with its marching men, horses, and lacquered palanquins, and was made more so by the banners, spears, and halberds in their decorative coverings, and other colorful objects that were borne aloft by the attendants. It formed a counterpart of the military parade as we know it in the West, and served to remind the populace of the places it passed through of the power and authority of their masters.
(17) Post-station, with travelers and scantily clad porters arriving. Sweaty bodies are rubbed down and horses unloaded.
This authority was exercised in the towns through a system of magistrates and police. In matters of administration the local organizations in the domains followed the model of the central government