My ancestors were lower-ranking samurai retainers of the Hikone Domain.
However, they were not originally serving Hikone Domain; until the Kyōhō era (early 18th century), they bore the surname “Mori” and worked for the Kyoto Machibugyō (Kyoto City Magistrate’s Office). For some reason, they resigned from that post, wandered as ronin (masterless samurai) for four years, then were taken in by Hikone Domain and changed their surname. Why they changed their surname remains unknown.
In Hikone Domain, they inherited the common names “Jūemon” or “Shigeemon” through generations. Their duties apparently included serving the domain lord’s family and working as teachers at the domain school.
When I shared these findings with relatives, they found it interesting and later sent me a copy of a memo compiled by some cousins from the main family line. The memo included records about my great-grandfather and his surrounding generations.
Reading through it, there were some clearly exaggerated or inaccurate claims, like “descendants of the main line of the Saga Genji clan” (which now fits with the earlier Mori surname revelation), or “served as senior accountants of the Hikone Domain” (which was not true in our case). But I suppose everyone tends to romanticize their ancestors’ history.
What interested me most was that this memo contained a lot of information from the temple’s “Kakichō” (family death register), which I couldn’t see when I visited due to time constraints.
Using this newly obtained memo along with my previous research, I roughly summarized my ancestors’ footprints in the early modern period. It feels like a scene from the movie Kita no Zeronen.
My great-grandfather’s father (called great-great-grandfather) His name was Shigeemon. Although the memo says he inherited the post of domain accountant, this is likely an exaggeration; he probably just worked in accounting. Their home was where the main street in front of the city hall now runs. Their stipend was 90 koku.
At that time, the lord of Hikone was Ii Naosuke, famously assassinated in the Sakuradamon Incident. Whether my ancestor ever met Ii Naosuke or not is unknown, but it feels strange to think they lived close to such a historical figure. The Sakuradamon Incident occurred when Shigeemon was 41. He died young at age 53 in Meiji 5 (1872), and I imagine he endured much hardship during those turbulent times.
My great-grandfather’s elder brother His name was Kihei, born in Kaei 1 (1848). At 16, he participated in his first battle during the Hamaguri Gate Incident, carrying only a spear and retreating due to defeat. The memo states Hikone sided with the shogunate then, which contradicts historical fact (Hikone was on the imperial side), but presumably his rough first battle experience was real.
In Meiji 4 (1871), after the abolition of domains, many Hikone samurai moved to Hokkaido (Kushiro area) as a group. Kihei also moved there after their father’s death (Meiji 5), borrowing 50 yen from the temple (Enjōji—the temple I visited) by mortgaging their residence, bringing along his wife and younger brother, my great-grandfather. Kihei was 25 and my great-grandfather Atsuzaburō was 10 then.
Kihei was talented in Chinese classics and taught elementary school but tragically, his wife died at 32 without leaving children. He handed over the family stipend to my great-grandfather and died at 62 in Taishō 2 (1913).
My great-grandfather Named Atsuzaburō, he was the youngest son of Shigeemon (the third son). One of his sisters married a high-ranking retainer, and her descendants include company presidents, according to the memo. Details of Atsuzaburō’s childhood are unclear.
As an adult, he trained as a coal mining engineer and worked leading prisoners at Abashiri Prison to develop coal mines. He contributed to the development of the Tokiwa coal mine in Hokkaido and was also dispatched to work on the Chikuho coalfields in northern Kyushu. However, his work in Kyushu was unsuccessful and he returned to Hokkaido. Traveling between Hokkaido and Kyushu in those days must have been very difficult.
His wife (my great-grandmother) was named Sada, born in Keiō 3 (1867), eldest daughter of the Kanamori family, foot soldiers from Gifu Domain. The Kanamori family ran a kimono shop in Yūbari after the Meiji Restoration, so perhaps they met through an arranged marriage there. She married Atsuzaburō at 16 and had 12 children including my grandfather. Atsuzaburō was fairly successful as a mining engineer and lived comfortably before dying young at 58 in Taishō 3 (1914). His widow struggled to raise their young children.
About my grandfather Apparently, short lifespans run in the family. My grandfather died when I was four, so I have little memory of him. He was born in Rumoi District, Hokkaido. My grandmother was also from southern Sapporo, but I don’t know her origins.
Because my great-grandfather died early, the family was poor in my grandfather’s youth. Before the war, he worked as an architect for a construction company connected to Asano Coal Mines, called Asano Kensetsu. My father was born in company housing in Uryū Town, Hokkaido. Neither my father nor grandmother ever told me stories about their Hokkaido days.
After the war, the family moved to Eifukucho, Tokyo. My grandfather helped design projects such as the reconstruction of Asakusa’s Kaminarimon gate and theaters like the Milanoza or Scala Theater in Shinjuku (I forget which). As a child, I often played on movie theater chairs that he had brought home to our balcony as samples.
He apparently rose to an executive position at his construction firm, but whether the company merged or went bankrupt, I cannot find any trace of it now.
While tracing ancestors back to the Kyōhō era was challenging but possible, investigating my grandparents’ generation feels more sensitive and difficult, perhaps because the memories are still raw. For example, my grandmother never spoke about her childhood.
For now, I will leave those stories for future generations.
Currently, we have no contact with the main family line, but I heard some relatives in Tokyo work in architecture. I wonder if they read this blog and share my wine interests. Probably not.
In any case, I’m glad to have identified where my grandfather and father were born, something I didn’t even know until recently. Friends from Hokkaido often say “Rumoi is a place with nothing much to do,” but I’m starting to want to visit Rumoi myself someday.
End of Part 4
This was originally written five years ago, but I’m sharing it now partly as a New Year’s story, and partly because I’m thinking of visiting my ancestors’ graves in Hikone again soon. Since the rise of “Hikonyan,” the town has probably changed a lot since my last visit. If I find new material, I plan to post a Part 5. And as mentioned, I’d also like to visit Hokkaido someday.