Ancient Tales and Folk-Lore of Japan by Richard Gordon Smith (ebook reader android TXT) 📖

the God of War, and the other to Yoritomo, called Shirahata Jinja. The shrines were erected to show Yoritomo’s gratitude to the God of War, for doves are known in Japan as the messengers of war, not of peace.

NOTE.—I think that the shrine called by Murray ‘Shirahata,’ which means White Flag, is really ‘Shiro hato,’ the white doves. The following is from Murray:—

The Temple of Hachiman, the God of War, dating from the end of the twelfth century, stands in a commanding position on a hill called Tsuruga-oka, and is approached by a stately avenue of pine trees leading up the whole way from the seashore. Though both avenue and temple have suffered from the ravages of time, enough still remains to remind one of the ancient glories of the place. Three stone torii lead up to the temple, which stands at the head of a broad flight of stone steps. Notice the magnificent icho tree, nearly 20 feet in circumference, and said to be over a thousand years old, and the flowering trees scattered about the grounds.

Before ascending the flight of steps, the minor shrines to the rear deserve notice. The nearer one, painted red and called Wakamiya, is dedicated to the Emperor Nintoku, son of the God of War. The farther one, renovated in 1890, is called Shirahata Jinja, and dedicated to Yoritomo. The style and structure are

somewhat unusual, black and gold being the only colours employed, and iron being the material of the four main pillars. The interior holds a small wooden image of Yoritomo.

A side path leads up hence to the main temple, which is enclosed in a square colonnade painted red. The temple, which was reerected in 1828, after having been destroyed by fire seven years previously, is in the Ryobu Shinto style, with red pillars, beams, and rafters, and is decorated with small painted carvings, chiefly of birds and animals. In the colonnade are several religious palanquins (mikoshi) used on the occasion of the semi-annual festivals (April 15 and December 15), a wooden image of Sumiyoshi by Unkei, and a few relics of Yoritomo. Most of the relics once preserved in the temple have been removed to the residence of the Chief Priest (Hakozaki Oyatsu-kwan), and are only exhibited at festival times.

Immediately behind the temple of Hachiman is a small hill called Shirabata-yama, whence Yoritomo is said to have often admired the prospect. The base of the hill is enclosed and laid out as a garden.

19. Murakami Yoshiteru Does ‘Harakiri’ and Throws His Entrails at the Enemy

XVI MURAKAMI YOSHITERU’S FAITHFULNESS

MURAKAMI YOSHITERU—We shall call him Yoshiteru for short—was one of the faithful retainers of Prince Morinaga, third son of the Emperor Godaigo, who reigned from 1319 to 1339. When I say ‘reigned,’ I mean that Godaigo was Emperor; but there was a Regent at the time, Hojo Takatoki, who ruled with harshness and great selfishness.

With the exception of young Prince Morinaga, the Imperial family appeared to take things easily. They preferred quietude and comfort to turbulence and quarrelling. Prince Morinaga was different. Fiery-tempered and proud, he thought that Hojo Takatoki was usurping the Emperor’s rights. The man, he said, was nothing more by birth than one of the Emperor’s subjects, and had no business to be made Regent.

Naturally these opinions led to trouble, and it was not very long before Prince Morinaga was obliged to leave the capital suddenly, with his followers, of whom there were some hundreds, not enough to fight Hojo Takatoki at the time.

Prince Morinaga had made up his mind that it would be better to live independently in Yamato than to be under the sway of Hojo Takatoki, as were his father and his elder brothers. Having collected the most faithful of his followers—of whom the most notable was the hero of our story, Murakami Yoshiteru,—the Prince left the capital in disguise, and started for Yoshino in Yamato. There, in the wild mountains, he intended to build a castle, in which to dwell for the rest of his days independent of the Regent, whom he held in much loathing.

Prince Morinaga carried with him an Imperial flag, which, he expected, would gain for him sympathy and help even in the wild Yamato Province. Though from Kioto the then capital to the borders of Yamato is, in a direct line, only about thirty miles, the whole country is mountainous and wild; roads are non-existent, mountain paths taking their place. Consequently, it was noon on the fifth day before the Prince found himself at a little border village called Imogase. Here he found his way blocked as it were by a guard-house, the soldiery of which had been chosen from among Imogase villagers, headed by one Shoji, a rough and disagreeable man.

When Prince Morinaga and his party of about eighty followers dressed as yamabushi (fighting monks) arrived, flying the standard, they were called to a halt by the village guard, and told that they could go no farther into Yamato without leaving one of themselves as hostage. The Prince was too haughty to speak to the villagers and explain, and, unfortunately, Murakami Yoshiteru, his most trusted leader, could not be found, for he had remained some miles behind to gather straw and make a new pair of waraji (straw shoes). Shoji, leader of the Imogase villagers, was firm in his demand that one of the party should be left behind until their return. For some twenty minutes matters stood thus. Neither side wanted to fight. At last Shoji said:

‘Well, you may say that you are a prince! I am a simple villager, and I don’t know. You may carry the Imperial flag; but when you are dressed like yamabushi it does not look exactly as if you were a prince. As I don’t want trouble, and you want to pass without trouble, -my orders being that out of all parties of over ten armed people I am to hold one as a hostage,—the only suggestion that I can make is that I keep as hostage this Imperial flag.’

The prince, glad enough to save leaving one of his faithful followers, gave the standard to Shoji as hostage, and then he and his party were allowed to pass into Yamato. They proceeded on their way. Not half-an-hour after they had passed, Murakami Yoshiteru arrived at the guard-house, having made himself a pair of straw shoes, to take the place of his old ones; and his surprise at seeing his master’s flag in such low hands was equalled by his anger.

‘What is the meaning of this?’ he asked.

Shoji explained what had happened.

On hearing the story Murakami lost control of his temper. He flew into a violent passion. He reviled Shoji and his men as a set of low blackguards who scarcely had a right to look at the Imperial standard of Japan, much less to dare to touch it; and with that he began a general assault on the village guard, killing three or four and putting the rest to flight. Murakami then seized the standard, and ran on with it until, towards evening, he came up with the Prince and his party, who were overjoyed at what he had done and at the recovery of the flag.

Two days later the party reached Yoshino, and in the vicinity of this place they built a fortress, where for some months they dwelt in peace. It was not long, however, before the Regent heard of the prince’s whereabouts, and he soon sent a small army after him. For two days the fort was desperately attacked; on the third the outer gates were taken; two-thirds of the prince’s men were dead’. Murakami, had been wounded three times, and his life could not last long. Faithful to the end, he rushed to his prince, saying, ‘Master, I am wounded unto death. In less than half-an-hour our enemies will have conquered us, for we have but few men left. Your Highness is unwounded, and can in disguise escape when the end comes. Give me quick your armour, and let me pretend that I am your Highness. I will show our enemies how a prince can die.’

Changing clothes hastily, and donning the prince’s armour, Murakami, bleeding badly from his wounds, and already more dead than alive with weakness from the loss of blood, regained the wall, and struggling up the last steps he reached a point where he could see and be seen by the whole of the enemy.

‘I am Prince Morinaga!’ shouted he. ‘Fate is against me, though I am in the right. Sooner or later Heaven’s punishment will come down on you. Until then my curses upon you, and take a lesson as to how a prince can die, emulating it, if you dare, when your time comes!’

With this Murakami Yoshiteru drew his short sword across his abdomen, and, seizing his quivering entrails, he flung them into the midst of his enemies, his dead body falling directly afterwards.

His head was taken to the Regent in Kioto as the head of Prince Morinaga, who escaped to plot in the future.

20. O Tokoyo Sees the Girl About to be Thrown Over Cliff

XVII A STORY OF OKI ISLANDS

THE Oki Islands, some forty-five miles from the mainland of Hoki Province, were for centuries the scene of strife, of sorrow, and of banishment; but to-day they are fairly prosperous and highly peaceful. Fish, octopus, and cuttlefish form the main exports. They are a weird, wild, and rocky group, difficult of access, and few indeed are the Europeans who have visited them. I know of only two—the late Lafcadio Hearn and Mr. Anderson (who was there to collect animals for the Duke of Bedford). I myself sent Oto, my Japanese hunter, who was glad to return.

In the Middle Ages—that is, from about the year 1000 A.D.—there was much fighting over the islands by various chieftains, and many persons were sent thither in banishment.

In the year 1239 Hojo Yoshitoshi defeated the Emperor Go Toba and banished him to Dogen Island.

Another Hojo chieftain banished another Emperor, Go Daigo, to Nishi-no-shima. Oribe Shima, the hero of our story, was probably banished by this same Hojo chieftain, whose name is given to me as Takatoki (Hojo), and the date of the story must be about 1320 A.D.

At the time when Hojo Takatoki reigned over the country with absolute power, there was a samurai whose name was Oribe Shima. By some misfortune Oribe (as we shall call him) had offended Hojo Takatoki, and had consequently found himself banished to one of the islands of the Oki group which was then known as Kamishima (Holy Island). So the relater of the story tells me; but I doubt his geographical statement, and think the island must have been Nishi-no-shima (Island of the West, or West Island 1).

Oribe had a beautiful daughter, aged eighteen, of whom he was as fond as she was of him, and consequently the banishment and separation rendered both of them doubly miserable. Her name was Tokoyo, O Tokoyo San.

Tokoyo, left at her old home in Shima Province, Ise, wept from morn till eve, and sometimes from eve till morn. At last, unable to stand the separation any longer, she resolved to risk all and try to reach her father or die in the attempt; for she was brave, as are most girls of Shima Province, where the women have much to do with the sea. As a child she had loved to dive with the women whose daily duty is to collect awabi and pearl-oyster shells, running with them the risk of life in spite of her higher birth and frailer body. She knew no fear.

Having decided to join her father, O Tokoyo sold what property she could dispose of, and set out on her long journey to the far-off province of Hoki, which, after many