Ancient Tales and Folk-Lore of Japan by Richard Gordon Smith (best novels ever txt) 📕

not perfectly assured that the head was the right one: so, knowing that Matsuo had previously been employed by Michizane, and that he must know if it were Kanshusai’s head or not, he called him, ordering him to take the head out of the box and identify it.

Poor Matsuo! Imagine his feelings at having to draw his only son Kotaro’s head from the box, and hold it up by the hair, and assure the Lord Tokihira that it was indeed the head of Kanshusai, Michizane’s son! He did so, however, with great nerve and splendid fortitude, thus saving the life of Kanshusai, and fulfilling his duty to his banished master Michizane.

Matsuo’s fidelity is still adored by those who know the story.

Not long after a terrible thunderstorm came over Kyoto. A thunderbolt crashed through Tokihira’s palace and killed him. To this day people say that Michizane’s spirit came down in the shape of that thunderbolt to be avenged.

Footnotes

65:1 This little tragedy, showing the deep loyalty which was general 1000 years ago, was told to me by Mr. Matsuzaki of the Kencho (Government Office).

14. Okawa Plunges the Hosokawa Deed Into His Stomach

XI PRINCE HOSOKAWA’S MOST VALUABLE TITLE-DEEDS 1

SEVERAL hundred years ago there dwelt in lands of the Hosokawas a widow and her daughter, a beautiful girl of seventeen, named Kazuye. O Kazuye San’s father had been foully murdered some six months before, and both Kazuye and her mother had made up their minds to devote their fortune and their lives to bringing the criminals to justice. In these efforts they received no help, but spent the whole of their money, until at last they were almost forced to beg in the street for food. Day after day, however, they continued to pray in the temple for help, and never once lost heart or weakened in their purpose. O Kazuye told her mother that were she fortunate enough to gain the affections of a man, even he should be sacrificed in the effort after vengeance.

One day it came to pass that the poverty-stricken appearance of Kazuye and her mother, returning as usual from praying in the temple, aroused the mirth of a party of roughs, who proceeded to insult them. A handsome young samurai, Okawa Jomoyemon, happened to come along. Drawing his sword, he very soon put the roughs to flight. Having done this, and bowing low, he asked whom he had the honour of serving.

O Kazuye answered for her mother, and quickly recognised that this handsome youth was just such as she had longed to meet, so that he might fall in love and wish to help her in seeking out the murderer of her father. Therefore, not unnaturally, she encouraged him; and he fell in love with her. In the meanwhile an old friend of Kazuye’s father, feeling great sorrow for her, had found a place for her in Prince Hosokawa’s household; and there she won such favour in the eyes of the Prince (or, as the title then was, Daimio) that the other maids began to be jealous.

It happened that one evening Okawa, now desperately in love with O Kazuye, in spite of being the retainer of another Daimio, felt that he must see her at all costs. He arranged a secret meeting, and eventually found his way to Kazuye’s apartment. Still full of desire for vengeance, she seized upon the occasion to pour forth her story and implore assistance.

Okawa, being a true knight-errant, vowed that he would speak no more of love until he himself had hunted down and killed the murderers of Kazuye’s father. Just as he had finished making this vow, one of the jealous maids (who had been listening) made her presence known, and rushed off to tell her mistress.

What was to be done? Okawa, the retainer of another Daimio, caught in the castle secretly conversing with one of the Hosokawa maids of honour! Surely both he and she would suffer death! O Kazuye was not long in thinking. She hid her lover in an old armour-case. That, however, was no use. She was instantly summoned into the presence of the Daimio, and the armour-chest was carried in as well.

The Daimio, furiously angry, ordered that O Kazuye should be killed. Okawa spoke up. He said that she was in no way responsible for this secret meeting, that the fault was entirely his; and begged that he might be allowed to die in place of her. Moreover, he told, the whole story of Kazuye’s life, and mentioned that her ambition in life was to avenge the death of her father.

The Daimio was greatly touched. Recognising the chivalry on both sides, he took Okawa into his own service, promising at the same time to aid them both in fulfilling their purpose.

Tears of gratitude came into Okawa’s eyes, and he vowed there and then to sacrifice his life for Hosokawa on the very first opportunity.

After about a year had passed a great fire broke out in the castle. It was so sudden that nothing could be done. The wind, fanning the flames, barely gave time for the people to escape, much less to carry off the family valuables.

When all were clear of the burning mass the Daimio suddenly remembered that his title-deeds would be lost, and that such a disaster would be dangerous for his family. Realising this, he jumped from his horse, and was about to dash back to try and recover them; but his retainers held him, fearing that he would die.

Okawa, hearing this, thought with delight that now an opportunity had come to him to save his new master and pay him for the kindness to himself and Kazuye. He rushed into the burning mass, and, having broken open the iron safe, seized the valuable documents. Then he found escape impossible. He was cut off by fire on all sides, and plainly saw that both he and the papers must be burned. At this moment a thought came to him. Though he must be burned, possibly his body might save the documents. Drawing his short sword, he deliberately disembowelled himself, and thrust the roll of papers into his stomach. Then he flung himself on the flaming floor and died. The fire went on. Poor Okawa was charred beyond recognition.

When the fire was over his body was recovered, and inside the roasted corpse was found the blood-stained roll of papers on which the Hosokawa family depended. From that time on, the document has been called ‘Hosokawa no chi daruma’—the blood-stained document of the Hosokawas.

Footnotes

71:1 Told to me by Mr. Matsuzaki, and said to be perfectly true, the document in question being in possession of the present Prince Hosokawa.

15. Ishidomaro Meets His Father, But Fails to Identify Him For Sure

XII THE STORY OF KATO SAYEMON 1

IN the days when Ashikaga was Shogun there served under him a knight of good family, Kato Sayemon, of whom he was especially fond. Things went well with Sayemon. He lived in what might almost be called a palace. Money he possessed in plenty. He had a charming wife who had borne him a son, and, according to old custom, he had many others who lived as wives within his mansion. There was no war in the land.

[paragraph continues] Sayemon found no trouble in his household. Peace and contentment reigned. He enjoyed life accordingly, by feasting and so forth. ‘Oh that such a life could last!’ thought he; but fate decreed otherwise.

One evening, when Sayemon was strolling about in his lovely garden, watching the fireflies and listening to singing insects and piping toads, of which he was extremely fond, he happened to pass his wife’s room and to look up.

There he saw his dear wife and his favourite concubine playing chess (‘go,’ in Japanese). What struck him most was that they appeared perfectly happy and contented in each other’s society. While Sayemon looked, however, their hair seemed to rear up from behind in the shapes of snakes which fought desperately. This filled him with fear.

Sayemon, in amazement, stealthily approached in order to see better; but he found the vision just the same. His wife and the other lady, when moving their men, smiled at each other, showing every sign of great courtesy; nevertheless, there remained the indistinct outlines of their hair assuming the forms of fighting snakes. Hitherto Sayemon had thought of them as almost sisters to each other, and so outwardly had they in fact appeared; but, now that he had seen the mysterious sign of the snakes, he knew that they hated each other more than could be understood by a man.

He became uneasy in his mind. Until then his life had been rendered doubly happy because he thought his home was peaceful; but now, he reflected, hatred and malice must be rampant in the house. Sayemon felt as if he were a rudderless boat, being drawn towards a cataract, from which no means of escape seemed possible.

He spent a sleepless night in meditation, during which he decided that to run away would be the safest course in the end. Peace was all that he craved for. To obtain it, he would devote himself to religious work for the rest of his life.

Next morning Kato Sayemon was nowhere to be found. There was consternation in the household. Men were dispatched here, there, and everywhere; but Sayemon could not be found. On the fifth or sixth day after the disappearance his wife reduced the establishment, but continued herself, with her little son Ishidomaro, to live in the house. Even the Shogun Ashikaga was greatly disconcerted at Sayemon’s disappearance. No news of him came, and time passed on until a year had gone, and then another, when Sayemon’s wife resolved to take Ishidomaro, aged five, and go in search.

For five weary years they wandered about, this mother and son, making inquiries everywhere; but not the slightest clue could they get, until at last one day they were staying at a village in Kishu, where they met an old man who told them that a year before he had seen Kato Sayemon at the temple of Koya San. ‘Sure,’ he said, ‘I knew him, for I was once a palanquin-bearer for the Shogun, and often and often saw Sayemon San. I cannot say if he is at the temple; but he was a priest there a year ago.’

For Ishidomaro and his mother there was but little sleep that night. They were in a fever of excitement. Ishidomaro was now eleven years of age, and was most anxious to have his father at home; both mother and son, happy after their long years of searching, eagerly looked forward to the morrow.

Unfortunately, according to ancient regulations, Koya San temple and mountain were only for men. No woman was allowed to ascend to worship the image of Buddha on this mountain. Thus Ishidomaro’s mother had to remain in the village while he went in quest of his father.

At daybreak he started, full of hope, and telling his mother not to fear. ‘I will bring back father this very evening,’ said he; ‘and how happy we shall all be! Farewell for the time being, and fear not for me!’ So saying, Ishidomaro went off. ‘True,’ he said, ‘I do not know my father by sight; but he has a black mole over his left eye, and so have I; besides, I feel that it is my father I am going to meet.’ With that and such other thoughts in his mind the boy plodded upwards through the tall and gloomy forests, stopping here and there at some wayside shrine to pray for success.

Higher and higher Ishidomaro climbed—Koya San is near 1100 feet in height—until he reached the outer gates of the temple, of which the true name is ‘Kongobuji,’ for ‘Koya