Pathway to Japanese Literature

This time I intended to discuss beggars.
Since there were three types of beggars—first those emerging from Hinin; second those from Gōmune; and third Gannin-bōzu—various phenomena had developed from these three categories.

Seburi and Worldly Practitioners

To begin by discussing beggars emerging from Hinin, there were also two types of beggars emerging from Hinin.
One was called "Seburi"—I do not know what characters were used to write this.
Another was Worldly Practitioners.
To explain the difference between them, "Seburi" referred to hereditary Hinin who could not return to commoner status.
These Seburi hung a bag on their chests, with the tip of the bag tied into a triangle as their distinguishing mark.
Among beggars, they were the distinguished ones.
Since these individuals slept outdoors, by the time they became full-fledged Seburi, their teeth were white.
Worldly Practitioners, on the other hand, were those who had experienced social downfall and voluntarily descended into beggary; through the Status Cleansing Ritual, they could return to commoner status at any time.
Worldly Practitioners could not sleep outdoors.
If they slept outdoors, the Seburi would make them suffer terribly.
They would inflict lynch law.
Therefore, if they had money, they would stay at firewood lodgings.
Otherwise, they would go sleep under things like halls or shrines.
Things like New Outcasts, Straw Mat Wearers, and the Homeless fell under Worldly Practitioners.
When we were children, we were often told that if we did such things, we’d end up as straw mat wearers in no time.
That, too, pertained to these Worldly Practitioners.

While I had previously briefly mentioned Hinin, the term “Hinin huts” had been in continuous use since the Kanbun era (1661–1673), though records from around Bunka 3 (1806) began referring to them as “Government Relief Huts.” Looking further back, during Tenmei 4 (1784), Hyōgo-ya—a rice wholesaler in Koamichō—implemented a gruel relief program. At that time, they constructed two huts: one designated for Hinin and another for commoners. Even among beggars, this division separated those born into the caste from those reduced to destitution—hence the somewhat peculiar use of “commoners” for the latter category, likely indicating meanings such as “the impoverished” or “disaster victims.” Of course, these individuals were not considered part of the Hinin community; it appears even New Outcasts maintained a transient beggar mentality. That the term “New Outcasts” vanished from official records remains truly heartening.

Let me mention in passing here that there existed what was called Nakagama Rokubu.
The genuine Sixty-Six Province Pilgrims traveled to submit scriptures, their practice having originated from devotion.
As there were provincial temples in each of the Sixty-Six Provinces, they would make a circuit of these to deposit sutras.
The term "Thousand-Temple Pilgrimage" similarly derived its name from making a circuit of a thousand temples starting with Hokke-ji.
While these pilgrims truly made their circuit of the provinces, the Nakagama Rokubu disguised themselves as Sixty-Six Province Pilgrims to receive alms.
Though residing in Edo, they put on the appearance of traveling around the provinces—thoroughly fraudulent practitioners.
Even with the Thousand-Temple Pilgrimage, to truly visit a thousand temples one inevitably had to circuit the provinces; yet there existed those who simply walked about claiming to undertake it while collecting alms.
Just as with the Nakagama Rokubu, there were also half-hearted practitioners among those professing to make the Thousand-Temple Pilgrimage.

When this practice became slightly older, there emerged something called "Hato no Kai."
Because insincere individuals were called Hato no Kai, they invoked the names of Kumano Shingu and Kumano Hongu to collect money under the pretext of using it as pigeon feed there.
In reality, they never actually went to Kumano at all.
They were insincere individuals.

When speaking of ritual fire ash, people nowadays think of it as something akin to thieves, but originally it was not so. This practice was primarily carried out by Shingon Buddhist ascetics, who would burn ritual fires and promote the ash as sacred—claiming that forming it into pills for the sick to swallow or sprinkling the ash as-is could ward off calamities—while distributing this dubious substance. They were extreme cases of fraudsters—though now regarded as thieves—they had originally been a type of beggar.

The Status Cleansing Ritual

Among these various beggars were indeed those who had truly fallen destitute and joined their ranks; however, upon entering the beggar community, they became known as hut dwellers and fell under the control of hut chiefs.
This applied equally whether they resided in a hut or not.
There was a law stating that even those who had attempted double suicide and been exposed at Nihonbashi's exhibition grounds would likewise be made into Hinin subordinates, being handed over to the Hinin after exposure.
While these individuals were unavoidably turned into beggars, there existed a practice called redemption through the Status Cleansing Ritual, where money could be paid to reclaim them.
Though documents exist detailing this ritual's formal procedures, I shall confine myself to outlining its basic framework.

Among those undergoing the Status Cleansing Ritual were both individuals who had attempted double suicide—as previously mentioned—and those who had fallen into Hinin status through debauchery. The procedure first required preparing two sets of period-appropriate clothing. They even prepared two loincloths. After having the individual change into one set, they gathered entirely new items—two large basins, hand buckets, footwear, a large pot, a razor, a comb, oil, and hair ties. They then requested about three townspeople of good standing.

Regarding the ritual's performance, payments had to be made not only to hut chiefs but also to fellow members. Townspeople particularly disliked attending such places and reportedly wouldn't go without substantial compensation, though the exact amount remains unclear. The townspeople sprinkled salt on cleanly swept ground about five ken from the hut and spread rough straw mats there. On one side, they struck a fire to light new firewood and boiled water in the prepared large pot. They then placed the individual into a basin to wash them—a task forbidden to hut dwellers, requiring townspeople's involvement. After washing the body again with another basin, they changed the clothes and sprinkled salt.

Having previously had their topknots severed, they now used the prepared razor, comb, oil, and hair ties to restyle their hair. Once coiffed and changed into fresh clothes again, they stood up as commoners. At this moment, all hut dwellers emerged to prostrate themselves. The redeemed individuals accepted this obeisance and departed henceforth as commoners, with no future greetings exchanged. In return, hut chiefs reportedly received fifty to one hundred ryō during these rituals. Payments had to be distributed thoroughly to avoid reproach from former associates met unexpectedly. Ultimately, these Status Cleansing funds functioned as hush money.

Famous Giant Scrotum and Admirable Young Beggar

Within the anecdotes concerning beggars, there were quite a few amusing stories, so I shall relate several of them.
The most notable first example was Ōgan-tama of Totsuka; this individual became famous for possessing an extraordinarily large scrotum.
He would bring a striker and gong to his side, clanging away at the gong.
As a beggar renowned even along the Tōkaidō highway, since everyone gave him coins, he likely received considerable alms.
This first generation operated during the Genroku era (1688–1704), with his successor active around Meiwa (1764–1772) and An’ei (1772–1781).
The scrotum was described as resembling a sack holding two to three *to* of rice—what proved remarkable was how it remained enlarged from morning until late afternoon, only to be pressed into his abdomen at dusk and reduced to half its size before he departed.
During predawn hours when foot traffic dwindled, it stayed modestly sized; yet precisely when crowds thickened along the thoroughfare, it swelled into the celebrated giant scrotum.
This practitioner represented the second generation—while Jippensha Ikku's *Shank's Mare* mentions him—though I suspect that reference actually pertains to the third iteration.

An amusing story concerning this giant scrotum involved Dutch people who, while traveling to Edo, saw this beggar and had an interpreter tell him they would treat his condition since it was caused by accumulated fluid.
One would expect the beggar to rejoice upon hearing this, but he showed no delight.
With a troubled look, he said: “Though I’d be grateful to have this crippled part treated, I’ve no skills—it’s thanks to this scrotum I eke out a living.”
“If you make this normal, I’ll lose my livelihood. Please leave it as is,” he declared, ultimately declining treatment.
Having a deformity become one’s means of survival was not uncommon.
Those offering treatment were said to be Dutch; another theory claims it was Sugita Genpaku. Regardless, his refusal remains unchanged.

A certain wealthy retired gentleman visited the temple daily.
On each visit, it became his custom to give seven *mon* coins to every beggar stationed at the temple gate.
This continued for years until one day, the old man declared: "As I've grown aged and even walking with a cane proves arduous, I must soon cease my daily pilgrimages.
Though I've given you all some small token each morning these many years, when I end my visits, I shall instead present each of you with a silver coin in place of the usual coppers."
The multitude of beggars all rejoiced at this news, yet among them a single young beggar wept.
"What our honorable retired patron has declared brings no joy—only sorrow! While contemporary sentiment might favor receiving silver over copper and thus wish his swift decline, I who have received his coins each morning these many years desire nothing more than his continued good health for even one extra day. To await his frailty for greater gain—this I cannot bear to wish." This account appears in *The True Cypress Vine*.
The story was promptly adapted by Ikkū into his *Roku Amida Mōde*.
Though no temple or personal names are mentioned, I cannot help but believe this to be a true account.

Poetry and Songs of Alms: Various

In early January of Kan'en 3 (1750), there was a Hinin who had collapsed in Shiba-no-Tera-machi.
On the inside of the straw raincoat and hat were written poems and songs, but who this person was could not be determined at all.
The poem read:

Gradually departing the Hinin realm, now returning to the heavens; tattered raincloak and broken hat—left before the temple gate.

This is a five-character quatrain.
As for the song:

The sorrowful joy of alms ungiven—now I return once more to my original form: a naked flower’s body.

so it goes.
In mid-July of Kaei 5 (1852), there was a beggar named Roku who appeared beside Bokusha Shimeidō—a fortune-teller’s stall in Ueno Hirokōji—and was allowed inside the stall at night. When this man died, a poem was found written on the back of the washbasin.
It was:

A single bowl of rice from a thousand homes.
A solitary self through how many autumns?
The bowl not empty, I return without eating.
No joy, yet no sorrow.
The sun warms the grasses at the embankment’s edge.
A cool breeze; the river flows under the bridge.
People are like gaps within this Roku;
The bright moon floats in the water.

This was a five-character regulated verse.
I did not know what status these people held, but it appeared that individuals capable of this level of accomplishment had existed among beggars of old.

This is another very recent story from around Meiji 40 (1907), which I heard from an old bookseller named Yoshida in Toshimachi: in a back house in Yamabushicho, an old man who went out to beg had hanged himself to death.
On that pillar was pasted a scrap of paper, and it read: “I have grown weary of this floating world.”
Yoshida remarked, "What a dashing old fellow," and it seems such individuals still lingered until the twilight years of the Meiji era.

It appears there were occasional beggars who composed poetry, as seen in *Togen Shosetsu*: during the early hours of the thirteenth day of the first month in Enkyō 5—the year when the era name changed to Kan'en—a certain Hinin picked up fifty ryō of gold at Yotsuhashi Bridge in Osaka. Since the wrapping paper bore "Utsuya," he delivered it to that shop. Even when gratitude was offered to this Hinin, he would not accept it. When they forced three kanmon upon him under the pretext of drinking money, he deliberately went out of his way the next morning to bring it back and return it. Attached to it were poems and songs.

On the bridge, by the roadside—one or two coins.
All day long, thousands come and go.
Life and death, wealth and honor—entrust all to heaven’s will.
Yesterday brocade, today straw mat.

Thinking it treasure, wrapped in sleeve; spread it out—lo, a heavy burden.

There were numerous examples of beggars returning lost items or refraining from theft, but I found it rare for them to compose poetry. In Ishida Baigan’s *Tohi Mondo*, there was an account of beggars scolding someone who had committed field theft, declaring that they begged precisely to avoid stealing, and expelling the individual from their group. This was something Baigan had actually witnessed and recorded, a matter of considerable significance. If we followed this narrative approach, I could not help but wonder what it meant to speak of “theft born of poverty as love songs” while pleading for extenuating circumstances.

While on the topic of poetic matters, let me mention another one—a story also found in Togen Shosetsu concerning the death poem left by a nun who died before the gates of Jizō Temple in Bungo:

Gradually departing the human world.
Suddenly now ascending the heavenly firmament.
Immediately discarded the tattered raincloak and hat.
At Yumegakuji Temple gate.

There exists such a verse.
This closely resembled the poem left by the Hinin who collapsed at Shiba’s temple gate that we encountered earlier.
There were likely numerous similar accounts.

Aesthetic Refinement・Integrity・Public Appeal

I believe this is a story from the Bunsei era (1818–1830). In Jippōan’s *Travel Miscellany*—written by a retired monk of that name—there is such an account.
Jippōan was a monk of the Shinshū sect who had been sprinkling water in his garden to prepare for guests when a Straw Mat Wearer saw this and said: “I am deeply awed by your refined pursuits; truly, even observing from afar, I find your circumstances most enviable. The fortunes granted to those born human vary greatly—such things are beyond what we could ever dream of attaining ourselves, though perhaps they are not meant to be desired.”
Impressed by the man’s character, Jippōan invited him into the garden, saying he would serve him some thin tea, and had him drink it on the veranda.
“I am deeply grateful for this,” he said, “but if I may trouble you further—I would like water for ritual purification and a new hand towel.” After washing his hands thoroughly, he drank the tea he had been given.
The monk, also impressed by this demeanor, served him three cups of tea, whereupon the Straw Mat Wearer became exceedingly delighted, declaring, “This shall remain a memory until my dying day.”
“Thank you very much,” he said and left, but at that time he had left an incense packet in the corner of the veranda.
This would appear to be something he had left in gratitude for the thin tea.
Wondering what kind of incense it contained, he opened it to find high-grade Rakoku.
When he experimentally burned one stick, as the fire died down, it revealed itself to be a distinctive masterwork incense with characteristics akin to Manila agarwood.
He carefully preserved it, thinking that man was likely not a true Hinin by birth, and waited in case he might return again—but years passed without any word, leaving him at a loss as to what had become of him.
There were also beggars of this kind.

In Hōei 7 (1710), a fire broke out from Rokudō no Tsuji and caused extensive damage.
At that time, many had fled into the mountain grounds of Dentsūin Temple, believing it to be safe, but contrary to their expectations, they perished terribly in the flames.
Then, on the morning after the fire, the Hinin from the mountain grounds came to where Osaka-ya San’emon—the herbal medicine shop in front of the gate (which I hear existed until the time of the Restoration)—had evacuated.
Since it was before the gate, they must have recognized the face from seeing it daily.
While the family members were suspicious about why a Hinin had come, it turned out that although the master had perished in the mountain grounds, what remained was this wallet containing money; the Hinin had inquired from last night until this morning about where they had evacuated to, and brought the wallet in order to deliver it to his family.

There are no particular records regarding this Aoyama fire, but such stories have been passed down.

Then, during the Meiwa and An'ei eras, there existed an alms-seeker called Kamejibōzu.
Though foolish and devoid of any particular skills, he was an immensely charming man. Shortly after Kamejibōzu's death, rumors arose that he had been reincarnated into the household of a certain daimyō.
The mere existence of such rumors suffices to convey how extraordinarily popular this figure called Kamejibōzu must have been.

Dakitsuke Yagorō and Others

In the Jōō era of Edo, there existed a beggar called Dakitsuke Yagorō.
This was an audacious beggar who would immediately embrace townspeople's wives or daughters whenever he spotted them walking haughtily through the streets in fine attire.
Most anyone found this troubling, yet he refused to release his grip.
"How much will you give me to let go?" he would demand, thus extracting coins from them through reluctant compliance.
Though such incidents occurred frequently, he refrained from committing other serious offenses.
Deeming him a public nuisance, the townsfolk collectively petitioned the city magistrate.
The city magistrate himself felt inclined to administer punishment, but finding no suitable penalty, eventually brought the matter before Shogun Iemitsu.
When anticipating what Iemitsu might decree, it is recorded that he declared: "Ah, so that's how it stands? This bodes well—a testament to our realm's tranquility." This account appears in *Gyōkeiroku*, a chronicle concerning Sakai Tadakatsu.
Today, I believe it would not be remiss to permit even a few such beggars among us.

During the Hōreki era, there was a story where a samurai came upon two beggars.
At once, they called out, “Please, Master.”
It was said that their voices resembled Shinnai—there being even a theory that Shinnai originated from beggars—but upon hearing this, the samurai tossed a single coin and passed by.
Then, the older one among the two beggars said, “Since you were the one who spoke first, you should take this.”
The younger one retorted, “No, that’s not right—I spoke too, and you spoke as well. Even if there was some slight order to it, this should go to the elder. You take it.”
The elder bestowing kindness upon the younger was only natural, but there was no proper way for the younger to receive such favor from the elder—so they deferred to each other, and neither took the coin.
A story expressing admiration—“That even among beggars there exists such a sense of duty?”—appears in the essay *Sumie Shinkaku*.

I shall set aside anecdotes for now, but among beggars there existed various individuals who incorporated contemporary celebrities and trends into their means of obtaining alms. To avoid excessive elaboration, let me cite one example: less than ten days after the conclusion of the Ueno War, they hung a sign around the neck of a four- or five-year-old child—inscribed with the plea that the youngster's parent had perished in the fighting at Ueno, leaving them with no means of support—and positioned them at Ryōgoku Bridge. This timely ploy became a sensational success and brought in extraordinary alms, causing imitations to proliferate everywhere. As these multiplied excessively, people eventually stopped giving whenever they saw sign-bearers, until finally the practice ceased altogether, it is said.

Then there were skill-less beggars—this is something I saw in my childhood—a man with unkempt hair and a fake beard glued on with paste would crawl into each house. When I think about it now, it remains unbearably comical: he would tap the ground with bamboo grass and declare, "A wild bear captured alive from Tamba Province! It lives! Let me have it roar for you!" Then he would make his lips quiver with a brr-brr-ttsu sound. That was likely meant to imitate a bear's roar. However, I had a friend named Matsumura Kotesō—a clownish fellow—and since it was that man's account, I cannot vouch for its credibility, but there existed a beggar who disguised himself as a leopard with large spots. This leopard had supposedly been captured alive from Tsushima Province—that much was plausible—but he did not know what a leopard's cry sounded like. Having no alternative, he would let out a "Biyaa!"—or so the story went—and this often sent everyone into laughter. Even such skill-less masters reportedly earned around one hundred mon per day, sometimes reaching as much as two hundred mon.

The blind and the paralyzed—these folks truly managed with their pleas of "Please, kind sir/madam, help us!"—but among them, what had become increasingly rare in recent times were the cripples.
Since few rode in carts, they walked wearing geta on their hands and horse shoes strapped to both knees.
There were numerous instances where cripples would stand up and flee when sudden evening showers came.

There were many Katsutai-bō who proved troublesome when approached.
Because being approached was inconvenient, people ended up giving money—this occurred most frequently in Horinouchi-dō’s Nabe-ya Yokochō, where they often remarked, "That one’s from Nabe-ya Yokochō."
Nabe-ya Yokochō had since become quite respectable, and such things had ceased, but I think it previously saw more of this than anywhere else in Tokyo.

Two Administrators—Matsuemon and Zen-shichi

The groups I have mentioned thus far all walked about freely, but among alms-seekers, there were those tied to specific seasons.
Examples included evil-warding performances, seasonal appeals, spring horse dances, and Daikoku dances—among these, the Daikoku Dance was permitted only in Yoshiwara.
Hinin were called hut dwellers, but those who went out to beg—though they were Hinin—often did not stay in the huts.
These were the Field Outcasts.
To discuss Hinin, one had to inevitably explain the huts; in Edo there were four Hinin leaders located in Asakusa’s Zen-shichi, Shinagawa’s Matsuemon, Miyama’s Zensaburō, and Yoyogi’s Kyūbee—these four governed.
Among these, Edo was further divided into two major sections—Matsuemon governed the southern half and Zen-shichi the northern half. However, since Zen-shichi had the largest number of people under him, it came to be that he represented the Hinin.
Among the current four leaders, Zensaburō was affiliated with Zen-shichi, and Kyūbee was affiliated with Matsuemon.

Under these four leaders were huts housing thirty to forty hut leaders.
Under these hut leaders existed further huts where those called minor leaders resided.
There must have been four or five thousand Hinin throughout Edo.
The Hinin became recognized as subordinates of Danzaemon starting in May of Kyōhō 7 (1722), though they had maintained independence prior to this.
After their subordination to Danzaemon, they cut off their topknots and let their hair hang loose under regulations forbidding tied hairstyles.

The Hinin each had their own responsibilities, with hut dwellers handling prisoner escorts. However, when it came to spearing those tied to execution stakes, the Hinin absolutely refused to do it. That task fell to Danzaemon's underlings. Guarding exposed criminals and watching over displayed heads—these duties too were handled by hut dwellers. When someone became a hut leader, while others left their hair untied, they alone secured their topknots. For Hinin leaders this was standard practice, though white cords remained forbidden; they used black cords instead.

The work of repairing snow gaiters and such day labor—those were limited to the Hinin.
The making of snow gaiters and leather thongs fell under Danzaemon’s subordinates, while the hut dwellers were assigned to day labor.
Day laborers would hang baskets from their shoulders and wear straw hats.
Not only that, but they also wore hoods beneath their hats.
Ragpicking was performed by Hinin, but rag buying was not.
Even with the same paper scraps, those who bought them were upstanding citizens.

Then there was one more category: Bird-Chasing Performers and Female Storytellers.
These became Bird-Chasing Performers only at the start of spring; though originally Female Storytellers, they emerged from the huts.
If one became a hut leader, they no longer made their wives or daughters into Female Storytellers.
Those below that rank would go out—these were the ones who performed Door-to-Door Performances.
The Door-to-Door Performances emerging from the huts were limited to these.
Women of the hut dwellers could not become courtesans.
The use of white cords was also prohibited.
The wearing of hairpins, hair sticks, or combs was also prohibited.
When going outside, they had to wear a sedge hat.
After the Tenpō Reforms, it came to be that they were not even permitted to wear geta.

Whenever something occurred at a townhouse—be it auspicious or inauspicious—the Hinin would come gathering.
They would come especially during times such as store openings or celebrations.
Since having too many of them come was troublesome, during such times people would post what were called boundary markers.
These were issued by both Zen-shichi and Matsuemon, labeled "boundary markers" with Matsuemon’s black seal stamped in the south and Zen-shichi’s in the north.
When these were posted at the entrance, beggars emerging from the huts ceased to come.
However, the Door-to-Door Performers still came.

Since we're on the topic of Hinin, I should mention one more thing—there existed what were called Town-Supported Hinin.
Since they could not tie up their hair, they all kept it closely cropped.
Because Zangiri was the head of the Hinin, people in the past greatly detested Zangiri.
Since the Meiwa era (1764–1772), these Town-Supported Hinin had been made to perform tasks such as sweeping front areas, drawing drinking water, and keeping night watch in alleyways.
There was also an order from that authority through which Yokome Hinin performed auxiliary detective work.
There were also quite a few instances where even major feudal lords requested Matsuemon and Zen-shichi to have them conduct searches.

In rural areas, when speaking of night watchmen (*bantaro*), they were all Hinin, but in Edo, people did not employ Hinin as night watchmen.
They were mostly people from the Koshu and Shinshu regions.

The Gōmune were members under Nidayū's command.

What I found interesting was that even concerning a single Bird-Chasing Hat, such substantial licensing fees were paid from the Hinin leaders to Gōmune Nidayū.
Under the Gōmune's command existed twelve types of skilled beggars.
The groups who donned silk garments to go out begging all belonged to the Gōmune; however, their leader Nidayū remained subordinate to Danzaemon.
His family name was Nakayama, and he resided in Yamazaki-chō.
He was a man of refined character.
For those who performed some art and received money, Gōmune Nidayū issued licenses.
And he collected license fees.

The members under Gōmune Nidayū's command were not fully aware of all twelve types [of performers], though most have been recorded.
The first was Aya-tori—this involved looping strings around the hands to form various shapes and display them.
It is what children still do even today—that very thing.
Next was Saruwaka—this likely existed until around the Tenpō era.
In Ryōgoku Hirokōji there existed what were called Shikata-gata performance troupes—even Kawarazaki Gonnosuke had initially been part of one such group.
Saruwaka referred to unlicensed theater performances that did not obtain permission for hinadan stages—because such things existed, the licensing of the Three Theaters became an extremely stringent matter.
To regard Tsuji Nō as the serious type and Kusa Shibai as the comedic variety would not be incorrect.
Then there was Edo Manzai—this resembled what exists today.
The shrine theater performances called Miyashibai—which had existed at nine locations—were banned in the fourth year of Shōtoku (1714).
Afterward Miyashibai persisted at five locations: Shiba no Shinmei; Yushima Tenjin; Ichigaya Hachiman; Ushigome Akagi Myōjin; and Koishikawa Ushi Tenjin—but these naturally diminished over time until only three remained collectively known as Miyaji San Shibai: Shiba; Yushima; and Ichigaya.
Among these were Trinket Theater—performances staged by trinket sellers—and others that combined theater with trinket-selling displays.
The relationship between Miyashibai shrine theater and Gōmune Nidayū proved quite intricate—while what was called Odekoshibai belonged to the Hinin side—even that appeared somehow entangled with them.

Tsuji Jōruri (street puppet theater), Tsuji Sekkyō (street sermons), Tsuji Hōka—with Hōka referring to acts like sleight of hand or basket escapes—from slightly before the Tenpō era came to be performed increasingly by Zen-shichi’s Hinin subordinates, resulting in their operational jurisdiction diverging from that of the Gōmune. Vocal impersonations and mimicry were also performed by Hinin. Although arts like Mamezō’s art should have belonged to the Gōmune, since those who performed them were predominantly Hinin, they naturally became affiliated with Zen-shichi.

Then there were things like street lectures and street storytelling. Fundamentally, the Gōmune side did not conduct Door-to-Door Performances. They received items simply by being present, and there existed a historical document by Gōmune Nidayū concerning this. While this account is hardly credible, it tentatively states that Nidayū's ancestors—originally performers who had come from Kamigata and made their living through street arts—eventually established reed-screened huts where they began collecting admission fees, ultimately coming to govern that lineage. Considering the timeline, since the Keian era [1648–1652], rōnin were prohibited from residing in Edo; as they could not sustain themselves without engaging in commerce, they were compelled to join the Gōmune’s ranks. I believe the circumstances of that period were also documented in Saikaku’s *Eitaigura*.

Performances like Odekoshibai, Trinket Theater, and Beggar Theater should have been under the control of the Gōmune beggars, but since many of the performers were Hinin, they ended up under Hinin jurisdiction—the exact circumstances of how this occurred remain unclear.
Odekoshibai was located in Ryōgoku Hirokōji, while Beggar Theater was situated within the grounds of Sensōji Temple.
These were reed-screened huts; regardless of type, the costumes involved garments made by braiding ropes into sleeve shapes.
The wigs were called Ōmori wigs—crafted from palm fibers—and since these performances were conducted not by troupes but solo performers, they would split their face into male and female halves, switching orientations as they performed; such was the nature of these acts.

In addition to these was Sumiyoshi Odori; this had existed since around the Kansei era (1789–1801). It was after the Ansei era that what was called Kappore began. Ahodara-kyō had existed in Edo since the Kaei era, though in Osaka it appears to have been practiced from around the Bunka era. In Edo they initially wore loincloths, but after becoming commoners in the Meiji era, they stopped wearing them. Before Meiji only wooden fish had been used, but with Meiji came the incorporation of shamisen. These three—Sumiyoshi Odori, Kappore, and Ahodara-kyō—alone could furnish material for a full night's discussion, but here I shall omit them.

Gannin-bōzu Under the Jurisdiction of the Temple and Shrine Magistrate

Chion-gare existed even before Ahodara-kyō, where performers beat wooden fish while reciting in rhythmic cadence. They appear to have emerged around the Kyōhō era (1716–1736), reportedly using only a Buddhist staff in their acts. Another similar style called Chiyobokure involved swinging a Buddhist staff but featured fewer melodic elements and sparse wording. While Chion-gare lacked melody and relied entirely on verbal delivery, Chiyobokure involved performing ritual prayer chants in its distinctive sparse style—a direct precursor to Naniwa-bushi. The wandering monks performed by the Sixth Generation and others, who carried Buddhist staffs, belonged to this Chiyobokure tradition.

As for what kind of people performed this—when one inquires—it was the aforementioned gannin-bōzu.
Gannin-bōzu also required cumbersome status verification processes, but prior to their time, there existed those called Obokure-bōzu—monks who carried small paper slips while chattering incessantly.
Some distributed questions in the morning under the guise of "contemplative matters," returning in the evening with written answers.
Others like Makashiyo-makashiyo and Wai-wai Tennō wandered about with tengu masks strapped to their backs, scattering illustrated papers to children—these were known as Staa-staa monks who simply roamed without purpose.
There were also those who collected money by claiming to make substitute pilgrimages to shrines or conduct Kōshin-sama rituals.
I believe these practices gradually declined and transformed into forms like the previously mentioned Sumiyoshi Odori, Kappore, and Ahodara-kyō.

Now, these gannin-bōzu were referred to as shop monks and maintained households.
If one was a hinin, they fell under the jurisdiction of Zen-shichi or Matsuemon; if a gōmune, under Nidayū’s control. However, since gannin-bōzu resided in urban areas and were permitted to live alongside commoners, they were administered by the temple and shrine magistrate.
This had two factions: the Fujisawa faction was under the jurisdiction of Nichirin-ji Temple, with a man named Enjō as its head, but it became extinct during the Kyōhō era.
There were those who would ring bells to perform doorway Buddhist chants and hymns, or burn incense on their arms in what was called “arm incense” to receive alms.
The other was the Kurama faction, which belonged under the jurisdiction of Daikōin Temple where Bishamonten was enshrined.
It is said that this faction came to Edo as the city prospered with the aim of establishing a branch temple of Daikōin, but in reality, it appears the shogunate summoned them intending to request covert operations.
The distribution of Bishamonten talismans was something the shogunate had officially permitted.
They engaged in activities such as proxy pilgrimages, substitute prayers, group Buddhist chants, and sermons; however, by the Kyōhō era this too had split into two locations—Nishizuki and Ichinyū’s faction in Bakurochō, and Harunaga’s subordinates residing in Shiba Kanasugi’s Hyakken Nagaya.
Later, they came to be divided into three locations: Shiba Kanasugi, Yotsuya Samebashi, and Kanda Toyoshima-chō; and by the Bakumatsu period they had come to do nothing but Ahodara-kyō and Kappore.

Regarding Edo's beggars, there were many points I needed to expound upon; however, if I were to state it in the roughest terms, it would generally amount to what has been described here.
I trust you have now come to understand—through this account—the tripartite division I initially outlined.