The Poisoned Bride and Other Judge Dee Stories

by The Poisoned Bride(Lit)

  The judge has the defendant brought in, and he has to kneel down on the bare floor in front of the bench, and remain this way for the duration of his case. Everything is calculated to impress the defendant with his own insignificance, particularly in contrast to the majesty of the law. Kneeling there far down below the judge, on a floor probably still showing the blood stains of people beaten or tortured there on a previous occasion, the constables standing over him on both sides, ready to curse or beat him at the slightest provocation, the defendant’s position can hardly be described as a favourable one. The kneeling on the stone floor is already quite unpleasant in itself, and becomes acute agony when a thoughtful constable first lays a few thin chains under the defendant’s knees, as is done in the case of recalcitrant criminals.

  Since complainants, irrespective of rank or age, are placed in exactly the same position, one need not wonder that the Chinese on the whole bring a suit before the tribunal only when all attempts at effecting a settlement out of court have failed.

  The law permits the judge to put the question to the defendant under torture, provided there is sufficient proof of his guilt. It is one of the fundamental principles of the Chinese Penal Code that no one can be sentenced unless he has confessed to his crime. In order to prevent hardened criminals from escaping punishment by refusing to confess, even when confronted with irrefutable proof of their guilt, various methods of severe torture, although officially forbidden by the law, have received legal acquiescence. If, however, a person should die under this “great torture,” as the Chinese call it, and it should be proved later that he was innocent, the judge and all the court personnel concerned will receive the death penalty.

  Legitimate means of torture are flogging on the back with a light whip, beating on the back of the thighs with bamboo sticks, applying screws to hands and ankles, and slapping the face with leather flaps. Every bamboo tally in the vase on the bench stands for a number of strokes with the bamboo. When the judge orders a constable to beat the defendant, he throws a number of tallies on the floor, and the headman of the constables therewith checks that the correct number of blows is given.

  When the accused has confessed, the judge sentences him according to the provisions of the Penal Code. This code, the history of which goes back to 650 A.D., was in force until a few decennia ago. It is a monumental work of absorbing interest, and all together an admirable example of law-making. Its merits and defects have been aptly summed up by the eminent authority on Chinese criminal law, Sir Chaloner Alabaster, in his statement: “As regards then the criminal law of the Chinese, although the allowance of torture in the examination of prisoners is a blot which cannot be overlooked, although the punishment for treason and parricide is monstrous, and the punishment of the wooden collar or portable pillory is not to be defended, yet the Code — when its procedure is understood — is infinitely more exact and satisfactory than our own system, and very far from being the barbarous cruel abomination it is generally supposed to be” (“Notes and Commentaries on Chinese Criminal Law,” London 1899).

  On the whole much latitude is given to the judge’s discretion while applying the provisions of the code. He is not as strictly bound by precedent in interpretation as our judges. Furthermore the judge can have all punishments executed on his own authority, except the capital one, which must be ratified by the Throne.

  As has already been remarked, a complainant’s position is as unfavourable in court as that of the defendant. Neither complainant nor defendant is allowed legal counsel; neither may they have witnesses called. The summoning of witnesses is a privilege of the court.

  The only persons that in some way could be compared with our lawyers are the professional petition-writers. This is a class that is not regarded very highly in Chinese society. Usually they are students who failed in the literary examinations, and to whom the entrance to official life being thus barred, eke out a meagre existence by drawing up written complaints and defenses for a small remuneration. Some among them have quite an extensive knowledge of the law and legal procedure, and by cleverly formulating a case they often assist their client in an indirect way. But they get little credit for their labours, the tribunal ignores them, and there is no Chinese detective novel that celebrates a figure like Erle S. Gardner’s famous Perry Mason.

  At first glance the above summary would give the impression that the Chinese system is a travesty of justice. As a matter of fact, however, it has on the whole worked admirably during many centuries. Although the author of our novel lived in the 18th century, and described the judicial system as he knew it in his own day, it was substantially the same system as that in operation during the Tang dynasty (618-907), the period in which the scene of the present novel is laid. During the ten centuries that intervened, even the court procedure hardly changed, which is shown by the accompanying plate, a copy of an original Tang scroll picture; the judge is seated behind the high bench, flanked by his assistants, while complainant and defendant are standing in front, below.

  Literary evidence shows that the same applies to the following remarks as to how the system worked. The social structure of the 18th century does not differ in substance from that prevailing during the Tang dynasty.

  The Chinese judicial system can be understood properly only if one views it against the peculiar background of the ancient Chinese government system, and the structure of Chinese society in general.

  One of the Ten Judges of Hell.

  According to a very ancient Chinese conception, the souls of the dead must appear before a tribunal in the Nether World, which is an exact replica of the tribunals on earth. In front of the bench, on the left is the accused. On right is the registrar of the Infernal Tribunal, carrying a roll on which the sins of the accused are recorded. For some reason this registrar and the two attendants by the side of the judge are represented as females.

  Drawing after an illustrated scroll dating from the Tang dynasty, and entitled Foo-shwo-shih-wang-djing.

  Abuse of judicial authority was checked by several controlling factors. In the first place, the district magistrate was but a small cog in the colossal administrative machinery of the Empire. He had to report his every action to his immediate superiors, accompanied by all pertaining original documents. Since every official was held completely responsible for the actions of his subordinates, these data were carefully checked, and if there was any doubt, a retrial was ordered. Furthermore anyone had the right to appeal to a higher judicial instance, going up as high as the Throne. Finally, there were the dreaded Imperial Censors, who travelled strictly incognito all over the country, vested with absolute powers, and responsible only to the Throne; they were empowered to have any official summarily arrested, and conveyed to the capital for an investigation.

  A second control lay in the practise of denunciation. Every official had the right to denounce his superior to higher authorities. He was even compelled to do so for his own safety, for he would have been held responsible for a judicial error to the same degree as his superior; “acting under orders” was not accepted as a valid excuse by Chinese law. If, for instance, an innocent prisoner died under torture, the judge who ordered the torture, the constable who executed the order, and the headman who supervised it, might all have been decapitated.

  It does credit to the democratic spirit that has always characterised the Chinese people, despite the autocratic form of their ancient government, that the most powerful check on abuse of judicial power was public opinion. All sessions of the tribunal were open to the public, and the entire town was aware of and discussed the tribunal proceedings. A cruel or arbitrary judge would soon have found the population against him. The teeming masses of the Chinese people were highly organised among themselves. Next to such closely-knit units as the family and the clan, there were the broader organisations of the professional guilds, the trade associations, and the secret brotherhoods. If the populace were to choose to sabotage the administration of a magistrate, taxes would not have been
paid on time, the registration would have become hopelessly tangled, highways would not have been repaired; and after a few months a censor would have appeared on the scene, for the purpose of investigation.

  The present novel describes vividly how careful a judge must be to show to the people at large that he conducts his cases in the right way.

  The greatest defect of the system as a whole was that in this pyramidal structure too much depended on the top. When the standard of the metropolitan officials deteriorated, the decay quickly spread downward. It might have been held in check for some time by an upright provincial governor, but if the central authority remained weak for too long, the district magistrates were also affected. This general deterioration of the administration of justice became conspicuous during the last century of Manchu rule in China. One need not wonder, therefore, that foreigners who observed affairs in China during the 19th century, did not have much favourable comment on the Chinese judicial system.

  A second defect of the system was that it assigned far too many duties to the district magistrate. He was a permanently overworked official. If he did not devote practically all his waking hours to his work, he was forced to leave a considerable part of his task to his subordinates. Men like Judge Dee of our present novel could cope with this heavy task, but it can be imagined that lesser men would soon have become wholly dependent on the permanent officials of their tribunal, such as the senior scribes, the headman of the constables, etc. These small people were particularly liable and most prone to abuse their power. If not strictly supervised they would engage in various kinds of petty extortion, impartially squeezing everyone connected with a criminal case. These “small fry” are wittily described in our present novel. More especially the constables of the tribunal are a lazy lot, most reluctant to do some extra work, and always keen on squeezing a few coppers here and there; yet at times surprisingly kind and human, and not without a certain wry sense of humour.

  It may be added that the function of district magistrate was the stepping stone to higher office. Since promotion was based solely on actual performance, and since the term of office rarely exceeded three years or so, even lazy or mediocre persons did their utmost to be satisfactory “father-and-mother officials,” hoping in due course to be promoted to an easier post.

  All in all, the system worked well. The most flagrant violations of the principles of justice recorded in Chinese history concerned cases of political and religious persecution — a respect regarding which our own record is not too clean either! Finally, the following statement by Sir George Staunton, the capable translator of the Chinese Penal Code, may be quoted here as a tribute to the ancient Chinese judicial system, all the more so since those words were written at the end of the 18th century, when the central authority, the dynasty of Manchu conquerors, was already disintegrating, and when consequently many abuses of judicial power had set in. “There are very substantial grounds for believing,” this cautious observer says, “that neither flagrant, nor repeated acts of injustice, do, in point of fact, often, in any rank or station, ultimately escape with impunity.”

  R.H.v.G.

  CELEBRATED CASES

  OF JUDGE DEE

  (Dee Goong An)

  THE CASE OF THE DOUBLE MURDER AT DAWN

  THE CASE OF THE STRANGE CORPSE

  THE CASE OF THE POISONED BRIDE

  DRAMATIS PERSONAE

  This list has been drawn up by the translator for the reader’s convenience. It should be noted that in Chinese the surname (here printed in capitals) precedes the personal name.

  Main characters:

  DEE Jen-djieh, referred to as “Judge Dee,” or “the judge.” Magistrate of Chang-ping, a town district in the Province of Shantung. The three criminal cases solved by Judge Dee occurred in the town itself, and the villages surrounding it.

  HOONG Liang, sergeant over the constables of the tribunal of Chang-ping, and Judge Dee’s trusted adviser. Referred to as “Sergeant Hoong,” or “the sergeant.”

  MA Joong, first lieutenant of Judge Dee.

  TAO Gan & CHIAO Tai, second and third lieutenants of Judge Dee.

  Persons connected with “The Double Murder at Dawn”:

  PANG Deb, warden of Six Mile Village, where the murders were committed. Referred to as “Warden Pang.” DIAO San, his assistant.

  KOONG Wan-deh, owner of the hostel in Six Mile Village, where the two victims stayed.

  LIU Guang-chi

  SHAO Lee-huai

  DIAO Wan-chuan traveling silk merchants from Kiangsu Province.

  WANG, a carter.

  MRS. WANG, his widow.

  DJANG, owner of a hostel in Divine Village.

  DJIANG Djung, warden of Divine Village.

  LOO Chang-po, manager of a silk shop in Divine Village. Referred to as “Manager Loo.”

  Persons connected with “The Strange Corpse”:

  HO Kai, warden of Huang-hua Village, where the murder was committed. Referred to as “Warden Ho.”

  BEE Hsun, a shopkeeper in Huang-hua Village, the victim.

  MRS. BEE, his old mother.

  MRS. BEE, née DJOU, his widow. Referred to as “Mrs. Djou.”

  TANG Deh-djung, a Doctor of Literature. Referred to as “Dr. Tang.”

  DOO & HSU Deh-tai, students of Dr. Tang.

  Persons connected with “The Poisoned Bride”:

  HUA Guo-hsiang, a former Prefect, living retired in Chang-ping. Referred as “Mr. Hua.”

  HUA Wen-djun, a Candidate of Literature, Mr. Hua’s son, and groom of the unfortunate bride. Referred to as “Wen-djun.”

  MRS. LEE, mother of the bride.

  MISS LEE, the bride.

  HOO Dso-bin, a Candidate of Literature, class-mate of Wen-djun. Referred to as “Candidate Hoo.”

  MRS. HOO, his mother.

  CHEN, an old maid servant in the Hua mansion.

  Occurs in Chapters 29 and 30 only:

  YEN Lee-ben, an Imperial Censor.

  First Chapter

  JUDGE DEE IS APPOINTED MAGISTRATE OF CHANG-PING; THE PEOPLE CROWD HIS TRIBUNAL TO REPORT GRIEVANCES.

  Although all people hanker after a magistrate’s office, few realise all that is involved in solving criminal cases: Tempering severity by lenience, as laid down by our law makers, and avoiding the extremes advocated by crafty philosophers.

  One upright magistrate means the happiness of a thousand families, the one word “justice” means the peace of the entire population. The exemplary conduct of Judge Dee, magistrate of Chang-ping, is placed here on record, for the edification of the reading public.

  In the end, as a general rule, no criminal escapes the laws of the land. But it is up to the judge to decide who is guilty and who is innocent. If, therefore, a judge is honest, then the people in his district will be at peace; and if the people are at peace, their manners and morals will be good. All vagabonds and idlers, all spreaders of false rumours and all trouble makers will disappear, and all of the common people will cheerfully go about their own affairs. And if some wicked people from outside should happen to settle down in such a district, they will better their lives and reform of their own accord; for they see with their own eyes, and hear with their own ears, how strictly the laws are enforced, and how sternly justice is meted out. Therefore it can be said that the amelioration of the common people depends on the honesty of the magistrate; never yet has a dishonest official improved the people under him.

  The honesty of a magistrate does not only consist of negative qualities like not accepting bribes and not doing harm to the people; it also implies positive qualities such as, in serving the State, doing what others cannot or dare not do, and, in ruling the people, rectifying wrongs that others cannot or dare not rectify. The subtle clues to be found among the populace, and the complicated intrigues in the official world, all such things a judge should investigate impartially. His motto should be: “To demonstrate clearly the just retribution meted out by Heaven, never failing in its hair-fine accuracy.” Judg
es answering these high qualifications, have been duly honoured by our August Rulers, since the days of remote antiquity.

  There are, however, also magistrates who let their conduct of a case be influenced by bribes, or who, fearing lest they lose their position if they do not dispose quickly of a great number of cases, pronounce hasty verdicts on the basis of confessions obtained by torture, or from some shreds of evidence. Such officials have failed to cultivate themselves, and therefore should never be appointed as rulers over others. For how could such men make their subordinates honest, and bring peace to the common people!

  In moments of leisure, leafing through books old and new, and searching through all kinds of minor historical records, I have come across many a weird story concerning criminal cases solved by famous judges of former times. Few of these, however, can match what is placed on record here.

  The present book describes complicated criminal investigations, baffling crimes, astounding feats of detection, and marvelous solutions of difficult cases. It tells about people who commit murder to be able to live to the end of their days in an odour of sanctity; who commit crimes in order to amass riches; people who become involved in crimes through adulterous relationships; people who meet sudden death by drinking poison not destined for them; people who through words spoken in jest lay themselves open to grave suspicion, and who, although innocent, barely escape heavy punishment. All these things could never have been set aright if there had not been an able and diligent magistrate who, on occasion altering his voice and dress, went about in disguise to make secret investigations himself, or who sometimes even assumed the role of a ghost from the Nether World, just to find the solution of a case, to redress a wrong, and to apprehend a criminal, thus successfully bringing to an end the most strange and most amazing trials.