Japanese Colonial Era

Qidu Train Station (舊七堵車站)

Amazingly, despite all of the high-tech industry and modern development in Taiwan, most people are relatively surprised when they discover that the country actually remains home to dozens of train stations that date back more than a century. Those living in Taipei have an especially difficult time believing this as their city is home to modern High Speed Rail, train and Metro Stations, all of which are less than a few decades old, sharing one common feature - they’re all underground.

The further you travel outside of the capital however, you’ll find that these historic train stations, often located in the downtown core, have been an important part of the community for a hundred years, and if its not broken, why fix it? Almost without exception, each of these century-year old stations dates back to the five-decade long Japanese Colonial Era from 1895 to 1945 and has been able to stand the test of time, enduring decades of earthquakes, typhoons, regime change, and of course the nationwide push for modern development.

There are probably few countries in the world where the railway is as relevant, popular, or as widely used as it is here in Taiwan - the perpetual march towards modernization however has left the status of quite a few of the nations historic stations in limbo, given that they are either too old or no longer fit the needs of the ever changing railway and a much larger population.

So even though the old adage about the railway station being the beating heart of many of Taiwan’s smaller communities remains true, the vast majority of smaller Japanese-era stations have already been replaced with modern buildings. Making matters worse, the handful that remain today are often in dire need of restoration, which can be as expensive as simply tearing it down and building a new one. 

For example, it was recently announced that an NT$82,000,000 (3 million USD) restoration project will start in the near future to restore several stations along the Miaoli coast including Xinpu Station (新埔車站), Baishatun Station (白沙屯車站), Tongxiao Station (通宵車站) and Yuanli Station (苑裡車站)

Link: 8200萬元補助挹注 苗栗縣推百年鐵道旅行 (UDN)

Fortunately, Taiwan is currently going through somewhat of a renaissance when it comes to the appreciation of buildings of historic and cultural value, and given the railway is something that near and dear to almost everyone’s heart, these older stations have started to receive a lot more appreciation for their historic and cultural value.

Hsinchu’s Xiangshan Station (香山車站) was recently restored to its original condition and was a project that likewise modernized the railway line and the platforms so that the station can remain in operation for the foreseeable future.

With Xiangshan Station, as well as the stations mentioned above, we have examples of those that are restored and remain in operation. What happens though when historic stations are preserved, but cease operations? Well, as in the case of larger stations like those in Kaohsiung and Taichung, we are still able to continue enjoying them in different ways with the creation of culture parks, which have become popular tourist attractions.

Where larger stations are being converted into popular tourist attractions, smaller stations like the Xinbeitou Station in Taipei and Qidu Railway Station near Keelung in Northern Taiwan have become mini railway culture parks, allowing people to enjoy the historic station while learning about the area at the same time.

Albeit in a much quieter setting than the two mentioned above.

One might argue that those larger stations in cities such as Kaohsiung are able to be easily converted into popular tourist attractions, but I’m sure that if you ask most people, the nostalgic feeling that you get when visit one of these smaller wooden stations brings you back to a time when Taiwan was much different than it is today.

For people in Taiwan today, looking back at this nation’s complicated history is an important step in retracing ones roots, and the existence of these buildings is one of the methods that is helping form a national identity, which is something that has been discouraged and violently suppressed for so long. Taiwan’s history over the past few centuries might be considered by some to be rather depressing, but there is ultimately a need to learn more about it and since train stations were the beating-heart of any community, they’re a pretty good place to start!

Today I’ll be introducing the historic Qidu Station as part of my on-going project covering Japanese-era stations, including those that are still in operation as well as those that have been converted into tourist attractions. While this one might be part of the latter, it has been beautifully restored and is geographically speaking one of the most important stations in northern Taiwan.

A quick note before I start - I had originally planned on publishing this article much sooner, but given the tragic railway disaster that took place during the annual Tomb Sweeping Festival long weekend, I held off.

Link: 2021 Hualien Train Derailment (Wiki)

Given that the tragic crash had affected so many families across the country, I felt like sharing an article celebrating the history of Taiwan’s Railway would have been in bad taste. That being said, Taiwan’s railways have been running since the late 1800s and the list of accidents throughout that period is a pretty short one. No matter what the local media might say in a fit of rage, Taiwan’s trains are still, and have always been the safest and most convenient way to travel around this beautiful country.

We mourn the loss of all the people who lost their lives or their loved ones, but we should also continue to show our appreciation for all the good people who work for the TRA!

Historic Qidu Train Station (舊七堵駅 / しちとえき) 

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Currently one of Northern Taiwan’s most important Railway Stations, the newly constructed Qidu Station (七賭火車站), located in Keelung’s Qidu District opened to the public in 2013 (民國102年).

Serving approximately four and a half million passengers each year, the station’s importance isn’t in the amount of people that pass through its gates, but due to the fact that it is the ‘origin’ station for the most of the trains that travel south along the West Coast Trunkline (西部幹線).

While the new station is large and modern, the history of “Qidu Station” goes all the way back to the early days of Taiwan’s railway network, when construction on a railway between Keelung and Taipei started in the late 1800s.

The original plan was to construct a railway between Keelung and Tainan, but due to the outbreak of the Sino-Japanese War, the Qing (who ruled parts of Taiwan at the time) quickly ran out of funds and lost interest in continuing its construction. In total, they completed around 106 kilometres of track between Keelung (基隆) and Hsinchu (新竹).

As I’ve mentioned numerous times already here on my blog, when the Japanese took control of Taiwan in 1895, things quickly changed and the railway became an extremely important tool for the colonial government’s desires for their newfound colony. The Japanese saw the construction of an island-wide railway network as instrumental in their plans for the development of the island, but more importantly for the extraction of its precious natural resources. 

Railway Links: Taipei Railway Bureau | Taipei Railway Workshop | Xinbeitou Historic Train Station

Upon their arrival in Taiwan, in order to slow the advance on Taipei, the Qing had portions of the railway between Keelung and Taipei sabotaged thinking that it would give them more time to escape. Ultimately though, it didn’t really have much effect as had made all the necessary repairs to the railway within two months of their arrival.

Bringing with them a team of military engineers, the emergency reparations put it the railway back in service and provided the military with the ability to quickly transport supplies from the port in Keelung to the capital. 

Nearing the end of 1895 (明治28年), the Japanese stationed the Temporary Taiwan Railway Team (臨時臺灣鐵道隊) in Keelung to carry out repairs on the existing railway, conduct surveys of the railroad, and to come up with plans for improvements.

By 1896 (明治29年), proposals were drawn up to completely re-route the rail line in another direction for better efficiency, but in the meantime the railway was put back in business for passenger service between the cities. 

Interestingly, by 1896 there were four round trips between Keelung and Hsinchu held each day. Today, there are at least fifty trains leaving Keelung for Hsinchu each day, and vice versa.

This is where the history becomes a little confusing.

In 1897 (明治30年), a “station” was constructed on the site of where the current station is located.

Its original name was Badu Station (八堵車站), but would be relocated in 1899 (明治32年) when another station was constructed in nearby Badu (八堵臨時車站), resulting in this station being renamed Qidu Station (七堵車站).

Admittedly, every time I’ve passed through this area on the train, I’ve wondered about the origin of the names “Qidu” (七堵) and “Badu” (八堵), but until now never really bothered to find out. So, if you’re like me and often wondered where the names came from, I did a little research for the benefit of all of us! 

One of the meanings of the word “堵” (du) is “wall” or “barrier” and each of the areas that exist today “Wudu” (五堵), “Qidu” (七堵), “Badu” (八堵) derive their names from artificial ‘barriers’ that were set up along the Keelung River (基隆河).

This was part of an attempt to prevent the Pingpu (平埔族) and the Ketagalan (凱達格蘭族) Indigenous groups from being able to successfully conduct raids on Han Chinese communities, and then retreating into the mountains through the river valley.

So “Wudu”, “Qidu” and “Badu” quite literally translate to “Fifth Barrier”, “Seventh Barrier” and “Eighth Barrier”, although I’m not particularly sure they were ever very effective in preventing attacks.

Nevertheless, the communities that popped up around them as the Han Chinese ventured further out of the Taipei Basin in the mid to late 1800s retain their names today.

When I mentioned the history was a bit confusing above, what I meant was that the area where “Qidu Station” is located was originally the home of “Badu Station”, which is currently about two and a half kilometres away. The Japanese are renowned for their attention to detail, so its odd that the stations were mis-named like this.  

Nevertheless, passenger service at the “Qidu Railway Station” officially started in 1899, even though the station itself dated back a couple of years prior to the name change.

The historic building that we’re taking a look at today however wasn’t constructed until years later. 

In what became a pretty important year for construction projects around Taiwan, the first year of the Taisho Era (大正元年), more commonly known as 1912, became one where the colonial government invested heavily on refurbishing some of the buildings that were hastily constructed upon arrival on the island. Qidu Station was one of the buildings that was reconstructed during this important year, replacing the original station with a beautifully constructed Japanese-Western fusion building.

Over the next few decades, not much really changed at the station, but as control of Taiwan passed from one colonial power to another, the Taiwan Railways Administration (臺灣鐵路管理局) of the Republic of China started an expansion of the railway in the Qidu area creating the Qidu Marshaling Yard (七堵調車長) in 1968 (民國57年).

This project expanded the width of the railway track considerably and forced the railway authorities to construct a Rear Station (後站) on the other side of the tracks. This created a precarious situation for passengers wanting to get on the train at Qidu as the ‘Front’ and ‘Rear’ sections were separated by a long walk in addition to the trains that they serviced.

By 1972, the original Japanese-era station became known as the “Front Station” (前站) and only serviced those who were traveling northbound to Keelung (基隆), while the newly constructed “Rear Station” serviced those who were on express trains headed to the east coast.

The situation at the station became even stranger in the 1990s when the Rear Station was upgraded to a Class A Station (一等站), while the Front Section was classified as a Simple Platform Station (簡易站); Having a single Railway Station with two different classifications is a rather unique case here in Taiwan.

Then in 1995, the Taiwan Railway Administration renovated the historic station, similar to the renovations that took place on the Xiangshan Station (香山車站) in Hsinchu in that they more or less covered up the exterior design of the building which pretty much covered up the original design, making it like one of the ‘tin house’ (鐵皮屋) extensions you commonly find constructed on top of a building in Taiwan.  

The Japanese-era “Front Station” ultimately remained in service until 2007, when after ninety-five years of use, it was finally ‘retired’ when the front and rear stations were combined into a much larger station a short distance away.

If you’ve been to the ‘modern’ Qidu Station, you’ll probably not really take too much away from your experience as it is lifeless in its architectural design. It is essentially a giant concrete box. 

Finally in 2010, the building was classified by the Keelung City Government’s Cultural Affairs Bureau (基隆市文化局) as a historic building (歷史建築) and was given protected status. The station then underwent a period of restoration where it was restored to its original design, and was subsequently opened as a tourist attraction within the Qidu Railway Memorial Park (七堵鐵道公園).

Today the more than a century old Qidu railway station sits within the modest park and is open to the public.

Even though there’s not much else to see or do in Qidu, stopping by to check out the station doesn’t take a whole lot of time, especially if you’re on your way for a day-trip to Keelung.

Now, lets talk a bit about the design of the station, which is quite special given its architectural fusion.

Design (設計)

Having been recently restored to its original design, the historic Qidu Railway Station is now part of a railway park meant to help tell the story of one of northern Taiwan’s most significant stations. Given its history and its strategic location between Taipei and Keelung, it has acted as one of the gateways to the east coast and was home to a Marshaling Yard. So even though it is a small station by todays standards, it has still seen its fair share of activity over the last century!

Constructed primarily with Taiwanese cedar, the old station is an architectural fusion of a traditional Japanese-style building with western elements carefully mixed in. Differing slightly from many of its contemporaries, the construction of this building made use of not only locally sourced cedar, but also concrete and steel, using modern construction techniques to ensure a long life. 

Official literature about the station states that the design imitates the architectural styles of “Ancient Greece and Rome” with elements of “Gothic Architecture” (模仿古希臘與古羅馬樣式,也模仿哥德式建築). While I don’t doubt that some of this may be true, the inclusion of anything appearing even remotely inspired by Gothic architecture doesn’t really pop out at you like it should. My best guess with what they were trying to say was that the design of the building takes inspiration from elements of Baroque-style design (巴洛克建築), a European architectural design that the Japanese architects of the era had become quite proficient in, especially when fusing it with their own traditional architectural design.

If thats the case, it is easy to see from the exterior that the almost 3D-like shapes and the sense of flowing movement creates the sense of drama that Bernini mastered back in Italy. That being said, the Japanese-style design elements are probably the most obvious to anyone looking at the station today.

Covered roof that extends beyond the building to shield passengers from the rain.

The station was constructed using Irimoya-zukuri (入母屋造 / いりもやづくり) style of design, most often referred to in English as the “East Asian hip-and-gable roof.” 

The key thing to keep in mind about irimoya-style design is that it doesn’t necessarily dictate what kind of roof is constructed on any given building - Granted, buildings constructed in this style feature a hip-and-gable roof - but within traditional Japanese architecture, there are several different styles of roof design and while some of them go hand-in-hand with the irimoya design, its probably better to first take a look at the ‘moya’ (母屋) part of “irimoya”, which describes the core of the building, under the roof.  

In layman’s terms, the ‘moya’ is essentially the base of the building, and when the irimoya-style is used, the ‘moya’, (literally the “mother-house”) is almost always considerably smaller than the roof, which extends well beyond the base. When we talk about irimoya design, we should keep in mind that the base of the building has been especially constructed to ensure that the weight of (whatever style of) the roof above is going to be well-supported and that it will be evenly distributed to ensure that the building doesn’t collapse.

To put it simply, in buildings like this, the roof is always the main attraction. The base is just there to hold it up.

To achieve this even distribution of weight, Japanese design uses an expertly crafted network of roof trusses and pillars on the interior and exterior of the building that allow the roof to become the most important part of the building, which is something that they’ve perfected over a period of a thousand or so years.

So in this case, even though we have an ‘irimoya-zukuri-style’ building, the roof was designed using the kirizuma-zukuri (妻造的樣式) style, which is one of the oldest and most commonly used designs in Japan. Translated simply as a “cut-out gable” roof, the kirizuma-style is one of the simplest of Japan’s hip-and-gable roofs and is indicative of a roof with “two surfaces including from the ridge at the top, or having the shape of a book placed with its face on its lower side” - and is probably one of the main reasons why the roof on this building so so much different than what you’d expect from a temple or shrine.

Looking at the roof, you’ll notice that it is layered with the eaves on the lower layer extending beyond the building, supported by a network of pillars that surround it on three sides. The top layer is where you’ll find the ”cut-out gable” with the gable-section of the roof covering the eastern side of the building, while the longer hipped side cuts through it.

Both of the ends of the ‘hip’ section feature triangular-shaped “hafu” (破風板) bargeboards, while either side of the gable features “tsuma” (妻) or gable-ends, with windows placed in the middle that allow natural light into the interior of the building. 

Even though the roof of this particular building appears rather simple compared to some of the other historic Japanese-era buildings in Taiwan, there is still actually quite a bit going on.

The first thing you’ll probably notice is that it is covered almost entirely with Japanese-style black tiles (日式黑瓦) with wooden rain-boards (雨淋板) on the lower areas.

Likewise you’ll find the following smaller parts working together to complete the roof: 

  1. Hiragawara (平瓦 /ひらがわら) - A type of arc-shaped clay roofing tile.

  2. Munagawara (棟瓦 /むねがわら) - Ridge tiles used to cover the apex of the roof.

  3. Onigawara (鬼瓦/おにがわら) - Decorative roof tiles found at the ends of a main ridge.

  4. Nokigawara (軒瓦/のきがわら) - The roof tiles placed along the eaves lines.

  5. Noshigawara (熨斗瓦/のしがわら) - Thick rectangular tiles located under ridge tiles.

  6. Sodegawara (袖瓦/そでがわら) - Cylindrical sleeve tiles.

  7. Tsuma (妻/つま) - The triangular shaped parts of the gable on the roof under the ridge.

  8. Hafu (破風板/ はふいた) - Bargeboards that lay flat against the ridge ends to finish the gable.

The ‘moya’ or the base of the building is constructed in a cube-like shape that is split in two, one side for passengers who walk through the station hall and the other for the employees of the station.

Like the lower part of the roof, the exterior is covered in wooden rain-boards, but for the most part, the building is covered almost entirely on each of its sides with beautiful Japanese-style paneled sliding glass windows (日式橫拉窗), which provide a considerable amount of natural light into the interior. 

The interior (which is currently only open to the public during the week) has been pretty much gutted, and for the most part doesn’t really have all that much for visitors to see.

The partition between the ‘Station Hall’ and the ‘Staff Section’ still exists, with the glass window ticket booth, but the door between them has been opened up and allows guests to easily pass through to the other side.

The great thing about the building being so empty is that (unlike many of the other Japanese era buildings that have been restored) you are able to better appreciate the architectural design of the interior without a bunch of pointless distractions getting in the way.

When you look up at the ceiling, you’re able to view an open space where you the network of beams and trusses that keep the roof in place. The recent restoration project made sure to leave a large space open that gives tourists the ability to appreciate the skills that went into constructing the building. The sad thing is that the restoration project added some steel beams for extra stability, which takes away from the original design. 

As the historic railway station is currently part of a Railway Park, you’ll find an old platform placed to the rear of the building that features part of a railway track.

Initially, I thought these were just put there for the purpose of the park, but they are actually part of the original station. The reason I thought this was because the rear of the station has an embankment that you can climb up to where the Marshaling Yard, and where the current tracks are located.

Essentially, the track that you’ll see behind the station today is where the original track was once located, but as I mentioned above when the “front station” and the “rear station” were separated, the railway was as well. 

Check out some of the historic photos in the link below that show the last day of operation at the historic station and how it looked back then. 

Link: 七堵前站營業最終日追憶 

What surprises me about the design of the station, the railway and its platform is that passengers would have actually had to cross the railway tracks to get to the train platform - This is something almost unheard of in Taiwan these days and was probably one of the reasons that a change ultimately had to be made!

Getting There

 

Address: No. 23, Guangming Road, Qidu District, Keelung City (基隆市七堵區光明路23號)

GPS:  25.093050 121.710920

It should go without saying that the Qidu Railway Memorial Park is a short distance from the current Qidu Station. If you’re planning on visiting the park, the best way to get there would be to simply take the train, get off at Qidu and then walk the short distance to the park. 

Qidu Station is currently one of the largest ‘Class A’ stations in northern Taiwan featuring four platforms and services the slower local trains (區間車), as well as the Puyuma (普悠瑪號), Taroko (太魯閣號), Zi-Qiang (自強號) and Chu-Guang (莒光號) express trains.

Given its size and its location, it has become the origin station for most of the southern-bound trains on the West Coast Line (西部幹線). 

If you are traveling northbound from Taipei, you can simply hop on any of the trains listed above and it will stop at Qidu Station. Likewise, if you’re traveling from Keelung or the East Coast, any train headed south or west respectively will get you to the station.

Car / Scooter 

If you’re driving a car or a scooter, I recommend inputting the address or the GPS coordinates provided above into your preferred geolocation system, and it will map out your route.

If you’re riding a scooter, parking along the street near the park should be relatively easy. However if you’re driving a car, you’re going to be forced to park in one of the paid parking lots near the station.

Given the amount of parking lots in the area though, you shouldn’t have any problem finding a spot. 

On either side of the memorial park you’ll find Guang-Ming Public Parking Lot 1 (光明一公停車場) and Guang Ming Public Parking Lot 2 (光明二公停車場), which are probably your best bet if you don’t feel like walking. 

Bus

Bus service in the area is somewhat limited, but there is a bus stop located near the Qidu Administrative Building (七堵區行政大樓), where you can take Keelung Bus (基隆客運) #403.

I’m not sure if this bus will help you much though as it originates at Keelung Station (基隆車站南站) and slowly makes it way through Badu (八堵) and Qidu (七賭), which are both already serviced by the train.   

A short walk away from the Memorial Park on Mingde First Road (明德一路) you’ll find the San Branch Office Bus Stop (三分局) which is serviced by Keelung Bus #402, 403, 406, 407, 408, 409, 410, 503, 510, 606, 1031, 1191, R82, R85 and R86. 

Almost all of which originate in Keelung and not Taipei.

Since you’re visiting a historic train station, it’s probably best to just take the train, don’t you think? 

Hours: Monday to Friday 08:00 - 16:00 (Closed on Weekends and National Holidays)


Xinhua Martial Arts Hall (新化武德殿)

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Well, it’s certainly been a minute! 

Years ago, when I first started on this quest to document historic buildings from the Japanese Colonial Era, I started out with the Longtan Martial Arts Hall, and then from then on set out to visit them all. 

With well over a dozen of these former Martial Arts Halls scattered throughout the country, I knew that getting to all of them would end up becoming a long-term project, but when I first started, I never expected that a global pandemic would slow me down. 

The year 2020 ended up being a bit of a miss in terms of travel, and when I did find an opportunity to take a vacation, I instead chose to head over to the East Coast to relax on Orchid Island and hung out in Taitung and Hualien for a couple of weeks.  

Shortly into the new year however, the weather here in northern Taiwan was miserable for several weeks, with a constant barrage rain and near-freezing temperatures. It was so cold that one night I actually had to wear socks to bed for the first time since I left Canada!

After a few weeks, I had had enough and abruptly decided that I’d take a day to head down south to check out one of the few Martial Arts Halls that had so far evaded me.

So I rented a car, woke up really early in the morning and headed down to Tainan’s historic Xinhua District to check out its Old Street, and its newly restored Martial Arts Hall. If you’ve ever read anything about this particular Martial Arts Hall in the past, you’re probably aware that people often throw around the word “unique” (唯一), whenever they mention it. And yeah, they’re right. 

The Xinhua Martial Arts Hall is unique in a lot of ways, but if you want to know how, you’re going to have to keep reading to find out! 

Before I get into it though, if you haven’t already, I recommend stopping here and first going through my introduction to Taiwan’s Martial Arts Halls, which provides an overview of the purpose of the buildings, their history and where else you’re able to find them around the country! 

Link: Martial Arts Halls of Taiwan (臺灣的武德殿)

If you’re already up to date with all of that, let’s just get into it! 


The Xinhua Martial Arts Hall (新化武德殿) 

As mentioned above, I’ll be introducing one of the ‘most unique’ of Taiwan’s remaining Martial Arts Halls, the (second generation) Xinhua Martial Arts Hall, formerly known as the Shinka Budokuden (新化武德殿 / しんかぶどう). 

The Xinhua Martial Arts Hall is located within the historic downtown core of Tainan’s Xinhua District, near its popular Old Street (新化老街). Since the Colonial Era, Xinhua, which was then known as “Shinkagun” (新化郡 /しんかぐん) was a prosperous community and an important economic gateway to the mountains of Tainan, making most of its riches through the wholesale trade of fruit. The history of the village of course dates back much further than the colonial era (1895-1945), but the vast majority of its modern development more or less took place during that period and shaped the town as we know it.

These days, pretty much everywhere you go in town, you can see the evidence of the colonial era - from the urban design of the the streets, to the baroque architecture on the Old Street, and the numerous Japanese-style buildings left behind. 

Link: Xinhua Old Street 新化老街 (Spectral Codex)

The rear of the building.

Xinhua’s historic street, like many of Taiwan’s popular “Old Streets” (老街), beautifully displays a variety of ‘Baroque Revival’ and ‘Art Deco’ architectural designs, with beautiful facades dating back to the 1920s.

In almost every case, the historic streets located throughout the country are a reflection of prosperity, and the sense of modernity expressed by the architects of that era, but is also one of the reasons why this Martial Arts Hall is considered so unique.

These days, apart from the Old Street, the Martial Arts Hall has become one of the most popular destinations to visit when in town, but you’ll also find a cluster of Japanese-era dormitories next door and several other colonial era-related buildings, many of which have already been restored (or are currently in the process of being restored).

The First Generation Xinhua Martial Arts Hall (第一代新化武德殿)

A rare uncovered photo of the original Martial Arts Hall

The First Generation Martial Arts Hall in Xinhua was constructed in 1924 (大正13年), and served a dual role as a Martial Arts Hall and a Malaria Prevention Centre. At this point you might be scratching your head and wondering how these two could possibly be related. 

To put it simply, the hall was initially constructed for the local police to practice Martial Arts, but before water treatment and sewage systems were constructed, malaria was an enormous issue for everyone living in Taiwan. In fact, figures show that over ninety percent of the Japanese military deaths during the occupation of Taiwan were due to malaria-related complications - Even one of the members of the Japanese royal family is thought to have fallen victim. 

Known as the Shinka Malaria Prevention Station and Martial Arts Hall (瘧疾防遏事務所並演武場), not much has been recorded about the original building, except that it had a total area of 285 square meters and cost a total of 8,200 yen to construct.

From an article about the opening ceremonies published on October 10th, 1924 in the Taiwan Police Association Magazine (臺灣警察協會雜誌), the building was described as being “beautifully built using carefully selected materials, and was a branch hall (支所) that the local community could be proud of.

In 2010, historic photos of the building were uncovered displaying the original appearance of the building. The photos, which were taken in 1934 (昭和9年) showed that the hall was constructed on a base of reinforced bricks, while the rest of the building was constructed using local cypress. The photos have led historians to hypothesize that the Second Generation of the Building wasn’t a complete rebuild, and when it was constructed they preserved several parts of the original building while improving upon the construction of the exterior and its base.

But if much of the original building was able to be preserved, why was a rebuild even necessary? As you’re probably aware, earthquakes are a common occurrence in Taiwan, and have caused problems for many of its historic buildings. 

In 1931 (昭和6年), the Great Tainan Earthquake (台南大地震), with an epicenter in nearby Shinei/Xinying (しんえいぐん/新營), took place and caused a considerable amount of damage to buildings throughout Tainan Prefecture. Then in 1935 (昭和10年), the magnitude 7.1 Shinchiku-Taichū Earthquake (年新竹–台中地震) dealt the final blow to the original building, forcing the local authorities to commit to a massive reparation project.

 

The Second Generation Xinhua Martial Arts Hall (第二代新化武德殿)

The Second Generation Xinhua Martial Arts Hall was completed only a year after the earthquake in 1936 (昭和11年), and although it retains a relatively similar design to the original hall, the subtle changes that were made allow the building to stand out among all of the remaining Martial Arts Halls in Taiwan today.

It also blends in quite well with the buildings constructed on the old street nearby.

Yes, as you may have already guessed, the Xinhua Martial Arts Hall is unique in that its architectural design features a fusion of Art Deco and traditional Japanese design. 

But I’ll leave the design of the building for a bit later. 

The Martial Arts Hall officially reopened on September 5th, 1936 as the “Shinka Branch of the Tainan Prefectural Butokai Association” (武德會台南支部新化支所演武場), and this time was focused solely on the promotion of Japanese Martial Arts. 

By the late 1930s, the malaria situation in Taiwan had improved considerably and the necessity for malaria treatment centers had already been delineated to hospitals and clinics, which were better suited to deal with the disease than a Martial Arts Hall would have been. 

For the next decade, the Martial Arts functioned as a training centre for the local police.

When the Second World War came to an end and the Japanese were forced to surrender and leave Taiwan, the hall was converted into a dormitory for the Republic of China’s police force.

Later (it seems like) the building was occupied by veterans, who used it as a community centre for the Military Village (眷村) that was constructed in the area surrounding the hall. Unfortunately most of the information about what happened to the Martial Arts Hall between 1945 and 2005 is hit-and-miss, and I don’t really feel like reporting something that isn’t factual, so I won’t go into too much detail about this ‘dark’ period of the building’s history. 

What I can say is that by 2005, the veterans had vacated the military village constructed in the area around the hall and in addition to the Japanese dormitories nearby, the Martial Arts Hall was recognized by the government as a Protected Historic Building (歷史建築), which meant that public funding would become available to restore the buildings and plans were drawn up to do so.

Sliding glass doors at the rear of the building.

Sliding glass doors at the rear of the building.

However, as you can see in the photos in the link below, the hall was still in pretty bad shape when the they were taken in 2008. Likewise, the buildings that had been constructed on the grounds surrounding the hall had yet to be torn down, and it’s fairly obvious from the front facade that the porch was removed at some point. 

Link: 台南新化武德殿 (就是愛趴趴走照)

In 2009, with plans for the restoration of the hall stalled, Typhoon Morakot (莫拉克), one of the deadliest typhoons in Taiwanese history, wreaked havoc around the country and caused a considerable amount of damage, especially in the south. The Martial Arts Hall likewise was damaged, which forced the local authorities to accelerate their plans for a complete restoration of the building.

The light is almost always beautiful in Tainan.

One of the major obstacles to the reconstruction process however was that the people in charge of planning the project had no idea what the original porch of the building looked like. So, a request was put out to people around Taiwan for photos of the original building so that it could be faithfully reconstructed.

It took almost a year, but photos were eventually found and the project finally got underway.

Today the Martial Arts Hall is open to the public and is an enjoyable place to visit while checking out the historic Xinhua Old Street and some of the other destinations in the town. The interior is often used as an exhibition space, but it also continues to play a role as a Martial Arts training centre, which is really great! 

Design (設計) 

As I’ve already mentioned several times above, the Xinhua Martial Arts Hall is a fusion of Western and Japanese architectural styles, with its front facade making it one of the most unique halls of its kind constructed in Taiwan. Its exterior design however isn’t the only aspect that sets this hall apart from all of the others that remain in Taiwan today.

The Martial Arts Hall has an interior space of about 238 square meters (72坪), and an exterior space of around 941 square meters (285坪), which includes the front courtyard and back yard.

While the building doesn’t appear very large from the outside, the interior simply consists of a single wide-open room, making it seem considerably larger from the inside. 

Separating the hall from almost all of its contemporaries around the country, the front facade was constructed with reinforced concrete and designed in the western ‘Art Deco’ style, while also featuring some important Japanese design elements.

What you’ll want to notice is that the porch has been designed using a traditional ‘hafu’ door, essentially a covered porch that opens up to the main doors of the hall. The ‘hafu-style door’ is a popular style of design indicative of Japanese architecture dating back to the Heian Period (平安時代) from 794-1185.

This style of design is a common architectural characteristic found in Japanese castles, temples, and shrines and its inclusion makes the building stand out a lot more thanks to its addition. With this hall though, the porch blends in really well with the European-style facade and the roof, which gives the building a lot more character.

The roof covering the hafu porch.

The roof covering the hafu porch.

The next thing you’ll want to notice about the front facade is the inclusion of the four dormer (oxeye) windows (牛眼窗), located on either side of the porch. This is a style of window was quite popular with Japanese architects of the early 20th century, and in conjunction with the more tradition sliding glass windows below allows for a considerable amount of natural light to enter the building.

The roof of the building was constructed using the traditional Japanese Irimoya-zukuri (入母屋造) style, meaning that it has a hip-and-gable roof with four ridges on the corners. The roof on this hall however is much more simplistic in its design than what you’d expect from a Shinto Shrine or Buddhist Temple, like those that have a similar types of roof such as the Taoyuan Shinto Shrine or the Puji Buddhist Temple in Taipei. 

As a hip-and-gable roof, the ‘irimoya’ style is a combination of the two-sided kirizuma-zukuri (切妻造) on the highest part of the roof, otherwise known as the ridged ‘gable’ and the four-sided yosemune-zukuri (寄棟造), or the ‘hips’ on the lower section.

Interestingly, the roof of the building is one of the aspects of the building’s design that wasn’t altered between the first and second generations, so even those the front facade of the building and the ‘moya’ (母屋) had been completely reconstructed, the size of the roof remained the same.

In most cases with this style of roof, the four hips extend beyond the lower base of the building, but one of the differences in the design of the second generation of the building is that the front facade extends beyond the roof, so they’ve added a extension on the western side of the roof to cover the side doors.

While the roof retains much of its original shape, including the network of trusses on the interior, it has been completely re-tiled on the outside with a fresh batch of grey tiles as well as decorative end-tiles. Even though it isn’t as decorative as some of its counterparts across Taiwan, it does include a complex collection of different pieces that keep it held together. 

Unfortunately, by this point you’re probably already a bit confused, and it is difficult to actually explain each of these parts in an easy to understand way, so I’m including a helpful diagram below that should help you better understand what I’m talking about.

  1. Hiragawara (平瓦 /ひらがわら) - A type of arc-shaped clay roofing tile.

  2. Munagawara (棟瓦 /むながわらあ) - Ridge tiles used to cover the apex of the roof.

  3. Onigawara (鬼瓦/おにがわら) - Decorative roof tiles found at the ends of a main ridge.

  4. Nokigawara (軒瓦/のきがわら) - The roof tiles placed along the eaves lines.

  5. Noshigawara (熨斗瓦/のしがわら) - Thick rectangular tiles located under ridge tiles.

  6. Sodegawara (袖瓦/そでがわら) - Cylindrical sleeve tiles

  7. Tsuma (妻/つま) - The triangular-shaped parts of the gable on the roof under the ridge.

  8. Hafu (破風板/ はふいた) - Bargeboards that lay flat against the ridge ends to finish the gable.

What I will say about the roof is that although it appears to be minimalistic compared to most of the other Japanese-era buildings around Taiwan, it actually isn’t. But one area where there was a missed opportunity with the restoration was on the ‘onigawara’ (Number 3 above) located at the ends of each of the ridges.

At some of the other Martial Arts Halls that have been recently restored, you’ll find that they are decorated with the Chinese character for ‘Budo’ (武), but they’re devoid of any sort of design at this hall.

Likewise the triangular ‘tsuma’ (妻) on either side, known literally as a ‘Mountain Flower’ (山花) here in Taiwan doesn’t include the traditional ‘hanging fish’ known as ‘omogegyo’ (本懸魚), making the triangular section under the gable somewhat plain as you can see in the fourth photo below.

While the base as well as the front facade were constructed using reinforced cement, the other three sides of the building are pretty much what you’d expect from a Japanese building, constructed entirely with beautiful Taiwanese cypress (檜木). The outer walls feature large beautiful sliding windows and allow for a considerable amount of natural light and fresh air to come into the building.

Likewise, to the left and right of the main door on the front side there are two alternate doors, one of which serves as the main entrance to the building today.

For a lot of people, the fusion of architectural designs on the exterior makes this Martial Arts Hall stand out from all of the others that remain in Taiwan - The interior on the other hand doesn’t stray too far from traditional Japanese design, but it is home to something quite unique, and is the envy of all of the other Martial Arts Halls around the country! 

The interior of the hall

As I already mentioned above, the interior of the building has a space of about 238 square meters (72坪), which isn’t all that large, but it is completely open with large windows on every side allowing you to see outside, making it appear visually much larger than it actually is. 

From top to bottom, the interior of the building has been crafted entirely with Taiwanese cypress, so the open roof trusses and the hardwood floor tend to shine when the weather is nice.

And considering it’s Tainan, the weather is pretty much always beautiful. 

Keeping with the simplicity of the interior, there isn’t really much in terms of decoration on the walls - You will however find a small shrine space in the centre of the building where you’ll find displays of a black “Bogu” (防具 / ぼうぐ), the armor used by those practicing Kendo on one side and a white “Judogi” (柔道着 / じゅうどうぎ), the uniform worn by people practicing Judo. In the centre, there is a space with a katana sword on a pedestal, and in the past would have featured the awards that the people who practiced martial arts there had won.

The shrine area in the center of the building.

Looking up, the ceiling is completely open and we are treated to a view of the intricate network of trusses that help to ensure that the heavy roof is held in place. Since we don’t have any photos of the original interior of the building, I can’t tell you if the ceiling was always open like this, but if the other Martial Arts Halls are any indication, its very likely it has always appeared this way. 

One of the best pieces of evidence to argue in favor of the roof having always been open in this way is the inclusion of the munafuda (棟札 / むなふだ), which is placed in the centre of the ceiling.

Munafuda markers are traditionally added to buildings upon completion and display important information about its construction, when it was built, who built it, who paid for it, etc.

The recent restoration has done an excellent job stabilizing the roof, combining modern materials with those used when the building was first constructed in 1924. Interestingly though, in the centre you’ll find a display that points out the location of the original munafuda, (which unfortunately doesn’t exist anymore) as well as a new one, with the addition of the original emblem of the "Dai Nippon Butoku Kai" that reads “武德” and has a bow and arrow below. 

Unfortunately there isn’t much information about these important aspects of the building in English, so I’m translating them below so you’ll know what you’re looking at: 

  1. Placed on March 24th, 1924 (Taisho Year 13) “上棟 - 日本大正13年3月24日”

  2. Placed on September 26th, 2011 (ROC Year 100) “上棟 - 中華民國100年9月26日”

Red ribbons hanging from where the munafuda is located

From both, we can ascertain the date when the Martial Arts Hall was officially established in addition to when it was most recently restored. The addition of the most recent munafuda likewise is a welcome added touch to the restoration that is in most cases is ignored. So, props should be given to those in charge of the restoration of the building for their attention to detail! 

Now, let’s talk about what makes the interior of this Martial Arts Hall unique from all the others that have been restored around the country - The Xinhua Martial Arts Hall is currently the only Martial Arts Hall in Taiwan that features a spring floor (彈簧地板).

The floor originally consisted of ninety springs that were placed on concrete pedestals on the ground beneath it. So when you walk in the building, its normal to feel a bit of a spring in your step as the floor is slightly bouncy in certain areas.

Originally, the entire floor space would have consisted of these spring boards, but due to flooding and moisture over the past eight decades, most of the original springs have rusted and broken.

Four of the original springs however have been preserved and there is a display space with a glass window in the floor where you can check them out. The rest of the floor space features newly constructed springs and makes walking on the floor an interesting experience - and somewhat annoying if you’re trying to take photos!


As I mentioned above, in addition to the Martial Arts Hall, there are a couple of other colonial era buildings to take note of while visiting the Martial Arts Hall. At this point, I’m not going to write about them individually, so I’m just going to offer a bit of an introduction to each of them so that you don’t miss them while visiting!

Civil Servant Dormitories (日式警察宿舍群)

Next to the Martial Arts Hall you’ll find a small cluster of former civil servant dormitories that once housed the local administrative workers in the town. When the colonial era ended they were repurposed as dormitories for the local police, but kept their original Japanese design.

The buildings today (for the most part) have been completely restored and are home to a mixture of ‘public-private participation’ that includes a couple of restaurants and some exhibition spaces about the local indigenous culture. The dorms have also become a popular Instagram photo spot, so you’ll often see quite a few tourists outside taking photos.

These public-private participation partnerships are something that you’ll find is taking place all over Taiwan and has become quite instrumental when it comes to the preservation of historic properties. If you’d like to learn more about how these partnerships are used to help conserve historic buildings in Taiwan, check out the link below: 

Link: The Role Of Public-Private Partnerships In Conserving Historic Buildings In Taiwan

Personally, I’m not as big of a fan of the restoration work that went into them as I am with the Martial Arts Hall. They seem kind of overdone and there are some unsightly (and out of place) modern additions (air conditioners, video cameras, electricity meters, etc) that are stuck in the middle of what would be a beautiful building. 

Air Raid Shelter (防空洞) 

Across the street from the Martial Arts Hall you’ll find a small Air Raid Shelter dug into the ground.

The shelter dates back over eight decades to the colonial era but only about half of the original shelter remains today. You’re free to walk down and check it out and it only takes about half a minute to go in and out.

The shelter would have been used by the civil servants living in the community of dormitories near the Martial Arts Hall during the Second World War when the Americans were bombing Taiwan.

There are some questions about its origin as some argue that it was constructed after the Chinese Nationalists took control of Taiwan. I’m not actually sure why they’d need bomb shelters at the point in time, unless they figured China was about to bomb Tainan. Better safe than sorry I guess.

Getting There 

 

The Xinhua Martial Arts Hall is located within the downtown core of Xinhua and is within walking distance of the historic Old Street.

The downtown core is home to quite a few attractions apart from the Old Street and the Martial Arts Hall, so if you’re in the area you’re probably better off if you just enjoy a walking tour of the town. 

Address: #53 Heping Road, Xinhua District, Tainan (臺南市新化區東榮里和平街53號)

GPS: 23.033238, 120.308855

If you’re driving a car or a scooter, getting to Xinhua is pretty easy, simply input the address or the GPS coordinates provided above into your GPS or Google Maps and your route will be mapped out for you. 

Xinhua is a popular tourist area, so you should be able to easily find parking available along the streets or in some of the paid parking lots. If you are driving a car, I’d recommend not attempting to drive through the tourist section of the Old Street, especially on the weekend as it is narrow and there will be tourists walking everywhere. 

If you’re relying on public transportation to get to Xinhua, you’re unfortunately going to have to either take a bus or a taxi to the town as it isn’t serviced by Taiwan Railways.

Bus

From Tainan Railway Station (臺南火車站)

From the Train Station you’ll want to take the Green Line (綠幹線), Tainan - Xinhua (臺南-新化) bus provided by the Shing-nan Bus Company (興南客運).

From Tainan High Speed Rail Station (臺南高鐵站) 

Your only option from the High Speed Rail Station is to take the free shuttle bus to Tainan Railway Station and then transfer to the bus mentioned above. 

The Martial Arts Hall is closed on Mondays and National Holidays. 

Hours: 09:00 - 12:00, 13:30 - 17:00

I know I’ve said it a few times already, but the Xinhua Martial Arts Hall is one of the most unique of all the historic halls remaining in Taiwan today. The Hall stands out in its architectural design as well as the continued existence of its spring floor, which is actually really cool.

Considering the hall is located in beautiful Tainan, its also a pleasure to visit as Xinhua is a great little tourist town with quite a few things to do. If you plan on visiting the hall, you should probably plan to spend an entire day in Xinhua as there are quite a few things to do while you’re there, with its old street being one of the best that you’ll find in Taiwan!   

References

  1. 大日本武德會 (Wiki)

  2. 大日本武德會 – 從弓術到弓道 (Kyo桑的弓道部落格)

  3. 歷史建築新莊武德殿修復或再利用計畫 (新北市政府文化局)

  4. 台南新化武德殿 (就是愛趴趴走照)

  5. 武德會與武德殿 (陳信安)

  6. 歷史建築─新化武德殿 (超不像老師的新安桑)

  7. 臺灣的武德殿 (Wiki)

  8. 新化武德殿 (Wiki)

  9. 新化武德殿 (Mimi韓の旅行生活)

  10. 新化武德殿 (Betty’s Footprints)

  11. 新化武德殿 (微笑的眼)

  12. 新化武德殿 (台南旅遊網)


Sanxia Loyal Spirit Monument (三峽忠魂碑)

Over the years I’ve written quite a bit about Taiwan’s period of Japanese rule here on this website. I’ve gone into great detail about some of the remaining Shinto Shrines, Martial Arts Halls, Police Dormitories, Teachers Dormitories, Civic buildings, etc.

I’ve talked a lot about how the Japanese helped to develop and shape Taiwan into the beautiful country that it is today, and how things certainly wouldn’t be the same now if it wasn’t for their influence. Admittedly though, while talking about all of the good things that happened during the half-century of Japanese rule, I’ve glossed over some of the really dark moments of that history.

I’m going to attempt to rectify some of that today with this blog post. 

This post probably isn’t for the faint of heart, but I’ll be introducing a little known destination and a history that not too many people talk about.

To start, I’m going to have to go back in time before the Japanese took control of Taiwan. 

The thing about Taiwanese history over the past four or five centuries is that it is full of would-be colonizers coming here to reap the benefits of this treasure trove of an island. Prior to the arrival of the Japanese, the Dutch, the Spanish and the Chinese all attempted to exert control over the island, but each of these attempts turned out to be short-lived, rather unsuccessful and each time ended badly. After several attempts by those mentioned above, the Japanese arrived and were the first to be able to exert administrative control over the entirety of the island. 

Why is it that up until the arrival of the Japanese that no one could actually control Taiwan? 

Well, the answer is simple - Taiwan was already home to groups of indigenous people and they didn’t take too kindly to all of the colonizers arriving on their shores. 

During the 17th Century, Europeans started arriving in Taiwan and set up small outposts around the island in order to engage in trade with the indigenous people. However, when they attempted to do what the European colonial powers were notorious for, namely subjugating and oppressing the local population, things took a turn for the worse and resulted in violent uprisings that forced the Europeans out. 

Then, when the Qing started taking an interest in Taiwan in the late 17th Century, waves of Chinese settlers started arriving on the island, mostly from provinces in Southern China. Possibly having learned from the mistakes of the Europeans, the Chinese instituted administrative policies that restricted migrants from settling in the mountainous areas, which were mainly settled by the indigenous people. 

Interestingly, immigration at the time was tightly controlled and the settlers who came to Taiwan were predominately male. One of the conditions for coming to Taiwan was that they were not permitted to bring with them a wife or children. The intention was to control the population of settlers in Taiwan, but it was thought that interactions between the Chinese settlers and indigenous people would be easier if they started to inter-marry. 

In truth, inter-marriage allowed for a certain level of protection and better business opportunities for many of the settlers, but like the Europeans before them, people started to bend the rules and infringe upon indigenous lands, which frequently resulted in conflicts.

It wasn’t until the final days of Qing rule over Taiwan that the ban on entering the mountains was lifted, but by then it was already too late as the Chinese were being embarrassed at home in their war with the Japanese. Ultimately, the threat of decapitation wandering too close to indigenous territories was enough to deter many of the early Chinese immigrants from making the same mistakes that the Europeans did. 

You’ll often hear the Chinese government make bold claims like “Taiwan is an inherent part of China’s sovereign territory”. But the problem with these claims is that from 1683 - 1895, the Qing were only able to control pockets of the western coast of the island and like the Europeans before them were powerless to exert total control over the island.

Then the Japanese arrived, and they had no intention on limiting their control over the island in the same way that the Qing did.

They wanted it all. 

In 1871, decades prior to the official start of the colonial era, fifty-four Ryukyuan sailors shipwrecked in southwestern Taiwan and were massacred by the Paiwan (排灣族) in an infamous event referred to as the Mudan Incident (牡丹社事件).

The reaction to this massacre resulted in the Taiwan Expedition (台灣出兵) of 1874, which was the first overseas deployment of the Japanese Imperial Army and Navy. The success of the military expedition, which sought revenge for the massacred Ryukyuans, would ultimately have geo-political ramifications that would shape events in Asia over the next few decades.

Link: 1874 Japanese Invasion of Taiwan (Wiki) 

One of the takeaways of the expedition was the conclusion that Taiwan’s indigenous people were “vicious, violent and cruel” and that any future plans for Taiwan would first require the complete submission of the indigenous “barbarians,” which as I’m sure you can imagine shaped a brutal policy of subjugation over the subsequent five decades of colonial rule.

To their credit, the Japanese ending up doing some extensive anthropological study of Taiwan’s indigenous groups during their years here. That research forms the basis of much of the taxonomy that is used by the Taiwanese government to classify the various groups of indigenous peoples today. The positives however pale in comparison to the long list of ‘rebellions’, ‘uprisings’ and ‘incidents’ that took place around the island that ended up resulting in massacres and the oppression of the indigenous people. 

Further Reading: Xincheng Incident (新城事件), Beipu Uprising (北浦事件), Truku War (太魯閣戰爭), Tapani Incident (噍吧哖事件), Musha Incident (霧社事件)

Unlike the Qing, the Japanese weren’t interested in policies that gave the indigenous people space and as colonial rule progressed, the Japanese moved as far inland as possible to continue their extraction of natural resources which were instrumental in fueling the hunger of the ever-expanding empire. 

Resistance to Japanese rule lasted for decades, but the violence eventually settled down as the Japanese developed the island and acted as agents of modernity. Providing health care and education to the local people, improving their quality of life and providing them with new opportunities. Surprisingly, even though the memory of colonial rule remains painful for many of Taiwan’s indigenous groups, you’ll find that there is a lingering affinity among some for the ‘good old days’, which is often contrast with yet another period of racism and oppression that came with the subsequent decades of authoritarian dictatorship of the Chinese Nationalists.

For most, its difficult to fathom how decades of atrocities and suppression could result in assimilation, but when the Second World War spread to the Pacific, Taiwan’s indigenous military, the ‘Takasago Volunteers’ (高砂兵) were some of the fiercest warriors the empire ever produced and their legendary bravery and loyalty continues to be celebrated in Japan today, with many of them honored at the Yasukuni Shinto Shrine in Tokyo. 

Nevertheless, it should go without saying that no matter how some might feel about the period of Japanese rule, it has been a rough couple of centuries for the indigenous people of Taiwan, who have called this land home for thousands of years. The situation has only started to improve with better recognition of Taiwan’s indigenous peoples as an integral part of the Taiwanese national identity. The cultural shifts and forced assimilation brought on by subsequent colonial powers over the past few centuries however has inflicted irreparable damage to indigenous cultural identities and the loss of their languages.

This is a subject that deserves considerable more attention and effort than I’m able to get into here with this brief summary. Fortunately, there are an increasing number of researchers who specialize in this topic, and the story of Taiwan’s indigenous peoples, and their fight to save their languages and their cultures is starting to attract the attention it deserves. 

Today I’m going to be introducing one of the lesser known ‘incidents’ that took place during the colonial era and an even lesser known memorial that exists in its honour. In most cases, the tragic events linked above, such as the Musha Incident, were major events in Taiwanese history and are covered extensively in the education system and in the media. Even though the ‘Dabao Incident’ is lesser known, it is yet another one of the tragic events that took place during the early years of the occupation, and set a precedent for years to come. 

Dabao Incident (大豹社事件)

A small waterfall hiding behind a cliff on the Dabao River

When the Japanese took control of Taiwan, they wasted no time in their attempts to pacify the island, which would allow them to quickly take control of not just the people living here but the precious resources that were suddenly made available to the fledgling empire. One of the most precious of those resources was camphor, which was instrumental for the production of celluloid, pharmaceuticals and industrial chemicals - and for which Taiwan was a veritable treasure trove.

The only problem was that Taiwan’s rich camphor resources were predominately located within indigenous lands, resulting in the Japanese army, with its advanced weaponry, forcibly displacing tens of thousands of indigenous people, burning their villages to the ground and murdering any of those who had the audacity to fight back. 

Starting in 1900 (明治33年), the Office of the Governor General opened up Taiwan’s mountainous regions for the extraction of camphor trees (樟腦樹), and other precious resources. The decision would start an almost two-decade long period of resistance to Japanese rule by Taiwan’s indigenous people, loosely referred to as ‘the Camphor Wars’ and resulting in the deaths of an estimated 10,000 members of the Japanese Armed Forces and countless indigenous lives. 

The Dabao River flowing down into Sanxia

One of the first military campaigns into the mountains took place that same year in the mountains near Sanxia (三峽), located in the mountains in the south of New Taipei City (新北市). The military campaign resulted in what is known as the Dabao Incident (大豹社事件), which as I mentioned above is one of the lesser known incidents and unfortunately hasn’t really been covered very well in the English language - or in Chinese for that matter.

The Dabao River (大豹溪) is one of New Taipei City’s most important rivers, sourced from high in the mountains and flowing down into Sanxia District (三峽區). Today the river is part of a popular recreation area where tourists can camp, bbq, fish and enjoy beautiful natural waterfalls like Yunsen Waterfall (雲森瀑布), among others. Originally home to the Takoham (大嵙崁), a tribe belonging to the Tayal Indigenous group (泰雅族), who made their homes along the river where they hunted, fished and farmed for their sustenance.

Prior to the arrival of the Japanese, the Qing under the leadership of Governor Liu Mingchuan (劉銘傳) entered the Takoham area in order to start the extraction of camphor resulting in the Takoham Incident (大嵙崁社事件), which took place between 1886 and 1892, just as the Qing cancelled its prohibition on entering Taiwan’s mountainous regions (開山撫番).

This incident was one of the first attempts by the Qing to enter the mountains and despite having relatively modern weaponry for the time, the various Tayal villages in the area banded together to resist and were relatively successful in repelling the Chinese from advancing into their territory. They did however suffer heavy losses, which would become an issue a few short years later when the Japanese took control of the island and set their eyes on the camphor in their territory.

Prior to the advance of the Japanese army, camphor stations were constructed in the Dabao River area near Sanxia. This met with indigenous resistance not only because the Japanese were entering their territory, but because some of the Japanese workers had captured Tayal women and used them as sex slaves. Using violent clashes as a justification, the colonial government sent the army marching into the mountains starting what would become the second bloody resistance in as many years. 

Guerrilla warfare between the Tayal people (and anti-Japanese Han residents) lasted for years with the Japanese suffering considerable losses and ultimately resulting in a truce. Unfortunately for the Takoham tribe, the losses were devastating and by 1921 (大正10年) the vast majority of them relocated higher in the mountains to Pyasan (比亞山), which is currently known as Taoyuan’s Fuxing District (復興區).

When the colonial era ended and the Chinese Nationalists took control of Taiwan, former residents of Takoham made an official request to the government for the return of the ancestral homeland. One such figure, Losing Watan (樂信·瓦旦 / 渡井三郎) was one of the most highly educated and vocal of the Tayal community through his capacity as a medical professional and later an elected member of the (defunct) Taiwan Provincial Consultative Council (臺灣省參議會).

Waterfall on the Dabao River

His fight for ethnic rights and representation within the “democratic” Republic of China came to an unfortunate end as he and several others who advocated for indigenous rights (and the return of their ancestral homeland), were charged with espionage and treason (高山族匪諜案) and executed. 

Link: Losing Watan Memorial Park (樂信瓦旦紀念公園)

Political control of Taiwan might have shifted from the Japanese to the Chinese Nationalists after the Second World War, but the death of someone as accomplished as Losing Watan and his compatriots is just another one of the sad events that took place during Taiwan’s White Terror (白色恐怖) period and ushered in another era of cruelty against Taiwan’s indigenous people. 

Sanxia Loyal Spirit Monument (三峽忠魂碑)

The Dabao Incident Monument was erected on a mountain deep within a beautiful bamboo forest along the Dabao River.

I’ve seen claims that the memorial was erected in a location where some of the violence took place, but historical records to that effect aren’t very well-documented, so it’s difficult to confirm. What we do know about the monument is that it was erected in 1930 (昭和5年) in honour of the fallen members of the Japanese Imperial Army who perished during the bloody incident. It has existed in obscurity for quite sometime as there are actually very few people who realize it even exists or know about its location, deep in a bamboo forest with little information to remind anyone that its there.

How it faded into obscurity shouldn’t really surprise anyone.

The Tayal residents who were most affected by the Dabao Incident moved deeper into the mountains and the Japanese who erected it left Taiwan when the war was over.

The memorial, which is literally a Loyal Spirit Monument (忠魂碑) is just one of many that were constructed throughout Taiwan during the colonial era dedicated to the ‘faithful who died in battle’, but is one of the few that actually remains standing and relatively unscathed after the regime change in the late 1940s. 

Language Note: “Loyal Spirit Monument” - 忠魂碑 (zhong hún bei) - ちゅうこんひ (chuukonhi)

Using local materials, the shrine is elevated off of the ground on a carved stone base and features an exquisitely decorated plaque with beautifully carved calligraphy. The architectural design of the memorial is thought to be representative of the 1930s, which certainly makes it representative of that era in Taiwan’s history, despite its debatably nefarious origins.

Similar to a smaller Shinto Shrine, surrounding the monument you’ll find an elevated stone pedestal with small stone pillars on each of its four corners. The 25 ping (坪) pedestal was constructed for the practical purpose of ensuring that it wouldn’t be overtaken by the bamboo forest that grows around it as well as giving those who came to pay their respects a place to pray.

There are photos of the shrine that were taken by other explorers a few years ago that show that it was nearly consumed by nature after several decades without any proper attention or grounds keeping.  

Recently however, it was recognized as a New Taipei City Historical Monument (市定古蹟) and has received some attention over the past year. This attention however has brought with it a debate about whether or not it should continue to exist, considering what it represents. Members of the Indigenous community have argued that it is representative of a dark period of history and is a bitter reminder of how the Tayal people have suffered through various atrocities.

The New Taipei City government on the other hand argues that the preservation and recognition of the memorial as a historical monument are a reminder of the past and how we should never make the same mistakes again. 

No matter what your stance on the subject is, the memorial remains to this day so obscure that few people actually realize it exists. It is a painful reminder of an era of history that doesn’t really get mentioned enough here in Taiwan, so maybe the fact that it is still around will allow people to carefully examine the history like I have and learn more about the plight of the Tayal and the other groups of Taiwan’s indigenous peoples who have suffered so much over the past few centuries of foreign rule. 

Getting There

 

So how is one to find this obscure war memorial? 

Well, it is located in the mountains near Sanxia Old Street (三峽老街) a few minutes up the road from the trailhead for Wuliaojian (五寮尖), one of the most popular hiking trails in northern Taiwan as well as being close to the beautiful Yunsen Waterfall (雲森瀑布) 

That being said, unless you have a car or a scooter, getting there can be difficult. 

The memorial is located on top of a small mountain that is on an obscure unmarked road off of the #114 North (北) highway that takes you to Manyueyuan National Forest Recreation Area (滿月圓國家森林遊樂園).

The road that takes you to the trailhead for the memorial is unmarked, so what you’ll want to keep in mind is that once you’ve passed by the trailhead for Wuliaojian and crossed the bridge on the 114, you’ll have to keep driving until you come across a lonely bus stop on the left side of the road. The bus stop, known as “Dayi Bridge” (大義橋) has an entrance to the steep mountain road that will bring you to the trailhead for the memorial on either side.

How will you know when you’ve reached the trailhead?

The best way is to look at the numbers on the telephone poles on the side of the road. Once you’ve reached #41, you’ve basically arrived. Next to the pole, you’ll find a run down pavilion that is probably used by the farmers who own the land, and the trailhead starts just beyond there.

This is the area where you’re going to want to watch for the mountain dogs, so be careful as they’re likely to start barking when they hear you coming. Given that they’re probably not used to many visitors coming around, they’re not really interested in your presence, so if you’re walking its probably a good idea to grab a stick somewhere along the road to protect yourself.

Once you’ve reached the trailhead, you’ll find an extremely unkept path that winds through a beautiful bamboo forest. If you actually visit, it will likely appear to that no one has really hiked the trail in a while, because not too many people actually know that it exists.

The hike should only take about ten to twenty minutes, depending on how fast you walk, but you’re going to have to be careful as the trail isn’t that stable in certain areas and there is a steep cliff that you could fall down while on the way up. Likewise, the trail isn’t very well marked and there are some twists and turns that could cause you to easily get lost. The fact that so few people are hiking the trail means that the path is likely to grow over quite easily, so pay attention! 

One last note: Something that you’ll probably want to remember to bring with you is some powerful mosquito repellent as it seems like the bamboo forest is a breeding ground for them. If you don’t have any repellent (like me), its likely that you’ll get eaten alive on the short hike (like I did).

The end of the quick hike.

It’s rather obvious that this little memorial isn’t exactly a major tourist attraction. By my estimation, I’d guess that its probably visited less than once or twice every couple of months.

That being said, its kind of amazing that it has been able to survive as long as it has given what it represents.

It’s probably one of those things that only people like myself know about, but if you’ve read this far, you’ll know that it represents a dark period of history and one that I sincerely hope we have learned from.