Notes: From Ellis Amdur
- This essay is published with the kind permission of Mayumi Abel
- Any additions, clarifications or other changes to Laszlo’s essay, that follows the foreword, will be in oxblood script. I have made minor textual corrections and added a few links.
Forward: Ellis Amdur
Back in the 1970’s and 1980’s, there was a small number of non-Japanese who were training in koryū-bugei. Some such as Phil Relnick, Quintin Chambers, Larry Bieri, Meik Skoss, Hunter Armstrong and the very recently deceased David Hall were closely associated and trained with Donn Draeger, the groundbreaker who proved to many, otherwise chauvinistic, Japanese that non-Japanese could fully integrate themselves within classical Japanese martial traditions (my apologies to anyone I left out of that group). Many others of us were not so closely connected to Donn, but also trained in classical koryū-bugei. Among the most remarkable of them was Laszlo Abel. He was a wiry man of medium height, with a nose that preceded him like the bowsprit of a battleship. He had a hot temper and a rude sense of humor, and I never saw him back down in a debate, even when we were out drinking, and things might turn physical.
Laszlo was interested in the unusual rather than mainstream. I know he trained in a rather obscure branch of Tenjin Shinyō-ryū, Masaki-ryū with Nawa Fumio, Negishi-ryū shurikenjutsu and Shindō Munen-ryū kenjutsu. He had wicked skills with a short chain in his hands, and every time I saw him, he’d reveal some hidden weapon, like a ring, turned inward, that had small spikes on it.
Beyond that, Laszlo was the most remarkable researcher I ever met, particularly pre-internet. He had a talent for opening up files—even government files—but beyond that, he had nonpareil “good stranger” skills. He could go to a rural area, strike up conversations with the local people and they would not only open their homes to him, but their attics and storehouses as well. He had a number of short weighted chains—manrikigusari—that were given to him by the people of Ogaki, the birthplace of Masaki-ryū,, and he ended up writing definitive information on Masaki-ryū that was, to say the least, discomfiting to those who were, shall I put it gently, historical fiction writers rather than true researchers. He would find something that interested him—an odd weapon, perhaps, or an obscure individual—and he would bring that information back to the light. He published very little. But everything he did was like that ring he wore: a little spiky, perhaps, but always on point.
Laszlo did publish of his writing, as well as an interview, with Stanley Pranin’s Aikido Journal [NOTE: The linked discussion board is the only place I can still find the interview]. Since Stanley’s death, I have been assisting the new owner, Josh Gold, go through Stanley’s archives, a challenging task because a single box will contain long-lost photographs of Taisho era budōka, Stanley’s military records, family reunion notes, books on the IRS (Stanley was not in favor of the institution), interview tapes with Ueshiba Morihei’s distant cousins about what someone ate at a family dinner fifty years before, and articles, both published and unpublished. Among them I have found several pieces by Laszlo, among them the following essay on Charles Parry an American who studied Daitō-ryū for a short period of time with Takeda Sokaku.
This is not the most dramatic of stories, but I want to publish it to highlight Laszlo’s utterly meticulous research abilities. Rather than leaving something to a glossy “might-have-been,” Laszlo ensured that only facts stayed in the light of day. I used to admire him so much for this—and something thought that I wouldn’t want to get on his bad side, because if I had any secrets, Laszlo surely would have found them out.
Charles Parry by Laszlo Abel
I started my research of foreigners involved in the practice of martial arts in Japan from the beginning of the Meiji period (1868) until the outbreak of world War II, in 1984. Stanley Pranin, knowing that the subject of this possible paper is one of the people from my own research, requested that I write this report to draw to the attention of readers the unfortunate recurrence of historical discrepancies found in several recently published books about aikidō written by John Stevens. Although there are slight variations in the story that Stevens tells, Aikidō and the New Warrior is an exemplar of Steven’s accounts:
In 1903, Perry, an English instructor at a secondary school in Sendai, was riding a train and asked the conductor to check the first-class ticket of the shabbily dressed Japanese man down the aisle. When Sokaku demanded to know why only he was requested to show his ticket, the conductor told him the American gentleman didn’t think he belonged in this car. The short-tempered Sokaku jumped to his feet and went over to Perry for an explanation. Perry stood up, brandishing both fists, sure that his six-foot height would intimidate the diminutive Sokaku. Sokaku grabbed both of Perry’s wrists and applied what modern Aikido students know as “yonkyo;” the pain brought Perry to his knees and then Sokaku threw him toward the end of the car. After making a humble apology, Perry asked permission to learn something of the art himself. The story goes that Perry later reported this encounter and details of his studies with Sokaku to the State Department in Washington; Teddy Roosevelt heard about it and asked that someone be sent to teach in the United States. Harada Shinzō of Sendai was dispatched to the U.S. for some months and it may well be that an American president was himself introduced to the mysteries of Aiki before Ueshiba Morihei.
The information about “Perry,” and his reporting about Daitō-ryū to American authorities is also found in one edition of the Japanese language newsletter of the Daitō-ryū, published by the present headmaster Takeda Tokimune, that may have been the major reference for this section in John Stevens’ books.
In late 1984, I came across a copy of this newsletter and found the name of our westerner, and other points that are reported in the books. “Perry’s” name was in katakana (Japanese phonetics) as パリ Japanese phonetics, and when simply transliterated to roman letters, reads as PARI. Knowing that the simple transliteration from katakana rarely give the correct reading or spelling of foreign names, I endeavored to find the truth. The key to finding out the real spelling of this name, however, was luckily provided in the newsletter reference. “Pari,” it said, worked at the Sendai Dai Ni Koto Gakko, the Sendai 2nd Middle School). After contracting the school, I found out that “Pari” was actually Parry and that he was contracted to teach at this school and also at the Sendai 1st Middle School from April 1st, 1907 until March 31st, 1908.
“Perry” was also said to be American. Given the information from the newsletter, I also made a similar mistake and in fact, in February of 1986, I sent five letters to various government offices in the USA to find out more about Parry’s American citizenship. In the meantime, I received other information that led me to believe that Parry was not American, but rather an Englishman. This was verified after obtaining a copy of his baptismal certificate. However, the American authorities were absolutely fantastic in the efforts to trace the non-American Parry.
The final point that needs clarification and even perhaps further research, concerns Parry’s alleged reporting of Daitō-ryū to the “State Department in Washington” and the dispatching of Harada Shinzō to the USA after a request made by Teddy Roosevelt for someone to teach this art. [NOTE: No information has subsequently emerged about Harada. Nonetheless, it was actually rather common lore. Aikidō shihan Kuroiwa Yoshio told me he had heard of the story of Harada Shinzō traveling to America and stated that he was actually a neophyte in Daitō-ryū, but in his brief trip , he relied on a nikajō wristlock to impress the Americans.]
On April 10th, 1986, I received correspondence from Ms. Yoshiko Yoshimura, Area Specialist of the Japanese Section, Library of Congress, which provides a somewhat different story. Her letter included a copy of Theodore Roosevelt Encyclopedia, 1941, which contains a letter to Kermit Roosevelt, dated February 25th, 1905, and indicates that President Roosevelt was exposed to “jiujitsu” under a Professor Yamashita. This was Yamashita Yoshiaki (1865 – 1935), one of the greatest jūdōka of all time and one of only a handful to earn the highest rank of 10th dan. In Illustrated Kodokan Jūdō (1955), there is an autographed photograph that Roosevelt gave Yamashita with the words, “To Prof. Y. Yamashita with the regards of his pupil. Theodore Roosevelt, April 13th, 1904.”
Then who was Parry?
Charles Arther Parry was born in Calcutta on the 23rd of September, 1869 to English parents. His father, Robert, was born in Chester, Cheshire, England in 1831, and was a professor at Hooghley College in Calcutta at the time of his son’s birth. His mother’s name was Harriet. Charles spent his childhood and youth in England and grew to more than 1.8 meters in height and with a well-built stature.
In October of 1891, Charles Parry graduated from London University with a Bachelor of Arts degree. He then embarked upon a teaching career, which took him to Ostend, Belgium, Canada, the United States of America and finally to Japan in November of 1903. In Japan, he taught at the Shizuoka Commercial School for one term (1904); in 1904, at the First and Second Middle Schools, Kaiden Gakko and the Kochi Commercial School, Shikoku; Shiraishi Middle School (1905-06); Osaka City Higher Commercial School (1906); Sendai Dai Ichi and Dai-Ni Koto Gakko (1907-08), and at Nihon University (pre- WW II).
Following the death and destruction and caused by the Great Kantō Earthquake in 1923, Parry moved from Tokyo to the peace, quiet and safety of what is now called Fujisawa City, Kanagawa Prefecture, in 1924. Here he rented land in Uchimodori from the Miyaji family, enjoying a stunning view of Mount Fuji to the west and the sea to the south. He built himself a house with a large sunroom,/library where he would often be seen taking his meals, but never seen without some reading material in hand. He enjoyed total privacy and in fact, the area he lived in became known as Pari-san no Hara (Mr. Parry’s field). He frequently entertained guests from Tokyo and was by then no doubt quite a wealthy man. It was from here that he would walk the five kilometers to the Fujisawa station and commute to Tokyo twice a week to teach at Nihon University.
Parry studied Daitō-ryū at one of three seminars that Takeda Sokaku held in 1905 at the Sendai Police Station. His name was recorded in pencil in roman script in the eimeiroku of Sokaku Takeda in 1905 in Sendai. This may have been during a visit or an interview for his prospective teaching position at the Sendai Dai-Ichi and Dai-Ni Koto Gakko. With the coming of World War II, Parry showed up at the British Embassy and signed registration papers on the 8th of September, 1941. According to the Vice Consul at the British Embassy, Parry would have been evacuated to some neutral area, perhaps in Africa. However, when the war was over, he returned to the Uchimodori area, where he died on the 9th of May, 1949, at the age of seventy-nine. He was buried int eh Yokohama General Cemetery.
NOTE: In sum, the incident on the train could very possibly have occurred, resulting in Parry later taking one of Takeda’s seminars. Or, excluding the dramatic event, Parry simply could have been invited as a visiting dignitary. In any event, there is no evidence, however, that Parry contacted the American authorities regarding Daitō-ryū. Given that he was an English citizen, why would he?
Finally, during a website search some years ago, I found a brief article in the New York Times archives, which described the murder of an elderly English teacher named Charles Parry in Yokohama in 1949. He was beaten to death by a deranged high school student in a street crime. I have not been able to locate this article again, but given the date of the incident and “our” Charle Parry’s death in Yokohama the same year, they are, almost surely and quite sadly, the same person.
NOTE: This essay is published with the kind permission of Mayumi Abel
Purchase Ellis Amdur’s Books On Budō & De-escalation of Aggression Here
Note: If anyone finds themselves grateful for access to the information in the essays published on this site, you can express your thanks in a way that would be helpful to me in turn. It would be most welcome if you were to purchase one or more of my books, be it those on martial traditions, tactical communication or fiction. In addition, if you have ever purchased any of my books, please write a review – the option is there on Amazon as well as Kobo or iBook. To be sure, positive reviews are valuable in their own right, but beyond that, the number of reviews bumps the algorithm within the online retailer, so that the book in question appears to more customers.
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.