The Curse of Koshiu: A Chronicle of Old Japan

"Her name is Miné."

"Miné!" ejaculated the careless scapegrace. "Tush! I know no Miné."

"For shame! Oh, light and fickle, it is as I guessed," returned the Abbess, with a head-shake that would have been solemn but for a sly flash of merriment in the usually stern eyes. "I have no excuse for the maid, since 'tis vastly reprehensible to throw your heart at one who does not want it; and yet, when her only child is so extremely fascinating, a mother must be indulgent." Sampei appearing quite mystified, Masago pursued more gravely, – "You used to single the poor thing out, bad boy, she says, at the rustic festivals here five years ago, and give her fans and hairpins. Unfortunate Miné! You turned her head, and have forgotten even her name. Do you remember Koshiu, the farmer?"

Miné, Koshiu's daughter. Dear me! a pretty little thing, with a temper that it was such sport to play upon. Of course Sampei remembered now, for indeed the too independent Koshiu, dreading some such misfortune as had come to pass, had testily turned upon the dallying swain, which had mightily offended his lordship.

And for hopeless love of him this silly soul had been sighing all these years, with nothing to feed on but a few idle compliments. Sampei felt a twinge of conscience, was angry with himself, for perhaps he had been too ardent. Then he felt annoyed with the too-confiding maiden too easily won. A few common-place attentions, that was all, out of mere idleness. A pretty pass if all the young women whom one ogles were to insist on claiming one for life. What a pother about nothing. It is extremely immodest and indecent of maidens to give themselves away unasked.

And then his thoughts reverted to that other lady, sitting yonder before the mirror, and a pang of distress swept over his features as he dreamed again of what might have been; the which perceiving the Abbess whispered, – "Be of good cheer, my son. By divine grace it will be for the best. My prayers added to hers, the maiden's mind will recover calm, and through the black passage of this hopeless love be led from earth to heaven. As a daughter of the people who has bestowed herself on you, I will cherish her. Already she has sought refuge under our roof, and ere long will become one of us for life."

He then, the light and jovial, was to be responsible for making of the poor maid a nun.

Sobered and saddened, and made uncomfortable internally by all he had seen and heard since his return, Sampei led his mother back towards the summer-house, where the young chatelaine was beginning to marvel at the length of their private colloquy. In this retreat, where she expected no visitors, O'Tei dispensed with the service of her ladies, for it was a relief to think out her dreary thoughts with none to read them on her countenance. Now, with a new sprightliness to which she had been long a stranger, she busied herself with hospitable cares. Placing on the firebox a daintily-wrought kettle of fine bronze, she produced from a gold-lacquered cabinet three fairy cups of the eggshell white porcelain of Hirado, placed a pinch of tea in each, and waiting for the water to boil, made ready to play the hostess.

It was with a tightening about the heart that Sampei watched her long fingers arranging sweetmeats on a tray, pouring water on the leaves, which straightway expanded, and turned the liquid of a pale straw colour. Had he not been so diffident and addlepated while there was time, she would not now have been so thin and wan; those teacups might have been his teacups, and-well, well. He was till death her own true knight, demanding nothing in exchange for his unselfish devotion. To his heart he would repeat this o'er and o'er again till it was used to it. What might have been was not to be. There was nothing now to be gained by brooding or railing against his own stupidity.

Over their refection the trio returned to the all-engrossing topic, – what was to be done for the poor suffering people? – how was the despot to be softened, and the imprisoned elders saved? Sampei related that the news of his coming must have preceded him, for no sooner had he clattered over the long wooden bridge which gives access to the main street of Tsu, than two ancient men had stopped him, and craved an immediate audience. Unlike my lord No-Kami, he had drawn rein at once, and listened; and the ancient men, with profuse grovellings, had implored my lord Sampei to use his personal influence for the rescue of the incarcerated headmen. It was indeed a heinous deed of insolence, they admitted with groans, to have sinned to the extent of imploring to be lightened of their burthens, but death of any kind was preferable to such a life as they endured at present. They reverently allowed that torments were deserved, but humbly implored mercy and consideration, for the sake of wives and children Sampei had been much shocked, for, to his generous nature, grovelling humility was offensive; and did not know what to do. He, as well as O'Tei, was resolved that something must be done for the sake of humanity, as well as to rescue from execration the unpopular name of Hojo. Perhaps the Abbess, the wise counsellor, would be good enough to settle what.

Now if Masago had a weakness (I am not prepared to say she had not), it was an appreciation of her position as chief adviser to every one. She therefore drank another cup of tea, then clearing her throat, began, -

"My counsel is this. My lord Hojo No-Kami must be brought to yield. Probably he will not be sorry of an excuse to do so, considering that after such an act of clemency as the remitting of torment, the elders, cowed and abashed, will be too frightened to say more about the taxes; whereas, if the men suffer, there will be further outcry, and the tax question will come yet more prominently forward, producing lamentable results. Hence my lord will probably, as I say, be glad of an excuse to send the people back, if they promise to be more amenable in future. It would be well if he owed his way out of the difficulty to his wife, for it would soften his animosity against her, and would cause the people to venerate her even more than they do already. My son, Sampei, could not be more popular than he is-praise be to the gods-but it would be pleasing to his mother if he were joined in the work of mercy. I therefore propose that the Lady O'Tei forthwith do indite upon a roll a personal request to her husband, craving as a boon the lives of the condemned, and tying it in a box of tortoiseshell, do consign it to her brother-in-law, that he may ride with all speed to Kiŷoto, and, delivering the box, do add his own entreaties to his sister's-so may we be sure to gain our end, and avert a serious danger."

So succinct an oration, brief, and to the point, and patly delivered, deserved another cup of tea, and while she sipped it leisurely, Masago improved the occasion.

"My dear," she said, "I saw you shudder. This will never do. It is the greatest of mistakes to let such a man as Mylord No-Kami know that you are afraid of him. I noted in his childhood how he always treated more scurvily the hirelings who cringed."

"I never cringed!" exclaimed O'Tei proudly.

"No; but if I mistake not, you have let him perceive fear, under a veil of contempt. Should he realise this, he will follow up the advantage, and all will indeed be lost. You should have coped with him at first, my lily. It would have been better for both, believe me."

O'Tei twined her fingers together in distress. Had not the small voice within her whispered this long since. She did fear him, and dislike him, and despise him. Cope with him forsooth! How could she do it now? How could she ever have summoned sufficient moral courage? No; having retired into her shell of pride, she would stop there to the end, but in this matter of the elders she might bestir herself. Drawing forth a roll of paper, O'Tei and Sampei, with heads closer together than Masago approved, proceeded to concoct a warily-worded epistle.

Masago was truly an extremely clever old dame, for with her one stone she slew a variety of birds. O'Tei would be the happier in that she had been induced to intercede. She would gain points in the affections of the people, and so would the beloved Sampei. The latter, as bearer of the missive, would be removed forthwith from perilous association with his sister-in-law; he would also be removed from the temptation to reconnoitre Miné, who, the Abbess firmly resolved, was to shave her head immediately. This, being obstinate like her father, she would, doubtless, decline to do if the too warm-blooded warrior were to see and fancy her afresh.

The combination was artful from all points of view, and did credit to the adviser of every one. The elders would return unharmed, and, after a severe lesson, would be more dutiful. The storm would blow over, and all might repose in peace.

Alack! Masago knew nothing of the resolve of Koshiu. Had she known that he proposed to call, if necessary, for the individual intervention of the sublime Mikado himself, her eyes would have goggled in her head at his audacity, and her counsel might have been of a different order.

CHAPTER V.

THE FARMER GIRDS HIS LOINS

The journey from Tsu to Kiŷoto may be made by one in haste, mounted on a strong horse, in two days, but in a land where trade is carried on in perfunctory fashion, time is and ever was a cheap commodity. In a shop the traders squat smoking on the mat, grin, prostrate themselves with head-knockings on your entrance, offer a cup of tea and a pipe, and consider that all has been done that may in fairness be required of them. In need of goods, you must search yourself, pull things from shelves, till you do or do not find the object you require. As with trade so is it to this day with travel. An energetic foreigner, by a liberal showering of yens, may induce his kuruma-runners to cover thirty miles per diem; but the Japanese of all ranks prefer to journey quietly, jogging along in kagos, at the favourite and decorous pace of the familiar snail. Indeed the higher the social status of the traveller, the slower will be his progress, for impedimenta are symbols of dignity.

Our magnificent young General, although on horseback, was surrounded and followed by a rabble, who for the most part were on foot. There was the inevitable bodyguard of swaggering samurai, who, with hair shorn from temples, and swords in red lacquer scabbards ostentatiously displayed, cultivated a scowling expression of perpetual defiance, incarnation of haughtiness, fanatical patriotism, and contempt of everybody but themselves. Then there were cotton-coated and straw-sandalled baggage-men by scores in charge of strings of packhorses; a group of sutlers; and, swaying in rear of the procession, an unwieldy but gaily-bedizened kago, for my lord to recline in when fatigued.

There being no professional fun toward, neither master nor men were in a hurry. To come upon a roadside tea-house, with its bevy of laughing waitresses, meant the performance of a variety of operations: tea-sipping, smoking, drowsy lounging, jesting, active dallying, and then unlimited sleep.

At first the method of progression was of the slowest, for the marshy plain was cut by various rivers, which had to be crossed in barges; then came a stretch of paddy, or rice fields; a green sea of slush bisected by a narrow gangway of stones, along which two men were unable to trudge abreast. Then, the foot of the hills being reached, there was a long and weariful ascent of rock and sliding stones-a climb over precipice and crag by a way that could scarce be called a path-and a descent on the other side as difficult. This feat accomplished, it was, of course, necessary to bathe, and worship in an adjoining temple, and rest and sleep again, and so it took more than a week for the cavalcade to reach the capital.

At approach of the noisy procession the mountaineer cottagers peeped out of their secluded dwellings, but perceiving the company of samurai, speedily put up their paper shutters, and made believe to be not at home. For the two-sword man was apt to ape the vices of his betters, and leave behind a trail of ruin such as marks the passage of the locust.

Sampei was too busy with his own thoughts-which were gloomy enough, in sooth-to take heed of those he passed; and even if he had done so, would probably have failed to recognise an elderly pedestrian, who glared with hate from under beetle-brows, at the young noble riding by. Having forgotten even the name of the luckless Miné, it was not likely that he would quickly recognise her father, clad now in dusty pilgrim garb of white, and wide mushroom hat of rice straw. For Koshiu, true to his resolve, was also going to Kiŷoto to watch events, and fulfil, if need were, his self-imposed and dangerous mission. Like all fervent worshippers of Buddha, the sturdy farmer had no fear of death; like other natives of Japan, he was eminently superstitious. Among the Asiatic poor, where ceaseless drudgery, and hunger never fully satisfied, are the common lot; where the tax-gatherer and the avaricious noble are the representatives of government; where earthquake and typhoon cause the forces of nature to be feared as malignant influences; life is not so pleasant as to cause the earthly wayfarer to long for its continuance.

The announcement of the Christian dogma that "the gift of God is eternal life," would rather pain than delight a Japanese, for to him life in any form is to be dreaded-not because death is at the end of it, but because another birth and death must follow (possibly more painful still) – then other births and deaths-links in a long and weary chain, before attaining the ultimate haven. The moral pang that may possibly attend decease, consists in the parting from those whom he holds dear, and will, save under miraculous circumstances, never see again; for the Christian hope of meeting in a better world finds place but rarely in the Buddhist's mind. The chief deity, if slow and somniferous was just, and would (Koshiu argued) surely protect the family of him who was sacrificed for the common weal. There is a temple even now at Kiŷoto, standing on a dizzy height, whose terrace is protected by a strong pallisade, for, unless prevented, it is the practice of the faithful to crave a boon of the god, then fling themselves over the precipice, in the firm belief that-if the boon is to be granted-the deity will hold them scathless. It is strange that the number of bodies shattered on the stones below should not have shaken their faith either in the goodness or the power of the god. Having made up his mind that, if need were, he, the humble peasant, would invoke the sacred and mysterious Mikado's aid, Koshiu passed a night in prayer, then washed and dressed himself in the attire common to high and low who are engaged on a holy mission, and took a tender farewell of his family. There was his dear wife, Kennui; his three boys, Gennosuké, Sôkei, and Kibachi, ranging in years from thirteen to seven. Miné was unaccountably absent, but she was always a froward and unruly maid, wild and disobedient. On this solemn occasion, however, her father left for her a tender message of farewell, and amid the tears and outcries of those who feared that they never again might look on him, tore himself away.

This was on the day before Sampei's arrival, – on the morning which followed the consultation in the farmer's dwelling. The elders, filled with admiration for the single-minded heroism of the man whom they had deemed slow and selfish, went with him, marshalled by Rokubei and Zembei, to the entrance of the town, and with many blessings and prayers, wished the traveller success.

Urged on to speed by an engrossing object, he caught up, and, strong and stout of limb, passed the straggling array of Sampei, arriving in the capital two days before him. The imprisoned envoys were still in durance, he learned from one of those who had escaped, and lurked in hiding. My lord No-Kami-orders having in heat been issued for seizure and incarceration-had apparently forgotten their existence. The threatened vengeance of torment had not been wreaked, and yet their position was no pleasing one, for my lord's soldiers-the peasants and the military class were never friendly-amused themselves with the poor wretches, as cats play with mice-haling them out for diversion-depriving them of drink-pretending to offer saké, and when they held out eager hands for it, playfully pricking them with dirks. At the relation, the blood of Koshiu boiled within him.

These men-honoured and revered at home-who had done naught save humbly to implore redress of grievances, were being murdered piecemeal. It mattered not that my lord had never ordered it. His lawless myrmidons took from him their cue, satisfied that they would not be punished. If the poor things must die, the more speedily the better; but Koshiu swore, with oaths that terrified his listeners, that their deaths should be avenged. Alack! Koshiu must be mad. He prated as if himself a daimio, or a least a samurai or hatamoto! A mosquito on a wall might as well shake a paw, and vow to avenge the slaughter of his fellows! And then at the boldness of his speech they shivered, considering whether it would not be more prudent to withdraw from the society of so rash a person, and sneak back to their crumbling homes. Of a certainty it would, for with even the Mikado himself, the revered and mystical, the insect presumed to find fault. Next he would be falling foul of Buddha, who, putting out a finger, would crush him-and them along with him-the blasphemer; and what then would be their fate in the next cycle? In horror and dread they wrung their hands, and banged their apologetic foreheads on the floor, and, drawing forth beads, told them with feverish rapidity.

These were the words that entered their astounded ears. "For generations stretching back into the shadow of time," the over-bold farmer said, "has our master dwelt behind a screen, looked on by no eyes but those of the kugés and his attendants. Nothing outside the screen penetrates to him save through the mouths of these. Being a mortal, if a highly-privileged one, he cannot see all, like Buddha, himself unseen. We are his, and we revere him, but he knows naught of us, and can know naught, secluded and fenced about, and thereby neglects his duty-for even he has duties; and if, which is unhappily true, the latter-day Mikados have been evilly entreated and dethroned and sent into banishment, 'tis by reason of this sin, and the vile Hojos have been but instruments of retribution in the hand of an offended deity."

What subversive doctrines were these uttered by a presuming pigmy? The horror-stricken elders glanced furtively one at the other with the same thought. Instead of a possible saviour, this man was a firebrand who would involve others in his well-merited ruin. Perchance it would be well to betray him at once to my lord No-Kami, and thereby earn their pardon? Koshiu read their thoughts, and sighed, wishing them no evil. The views of the sturdy farmer were beyond them. As well talk to the trees-better, for the leaves would not shake with terror, and consider the expediency of treachery. He resolved to shut up his opinions therefore within his own bosom, and calmly discussed, without further blasphemy, what the next move should be.

As there was no possibility of, for the present at least, making any move at all, they were still idly chattering when, a few days later, they were startled by the appearance of the very envoys whose rescue was under discussion. They were thin, and gnarled, and haggard, and wrinkled-but then a Japanese peasant over the age of twenty is never a pretty object-yet in health seemed well enough. The tale of the saké and dirks must have been the invention of the foe. And yet to Koshiu these village elders looked suspiciously meek and lowly, more so than the humblest peasant should; indeed their bearing was not unlike that of a mongrel dog, that still smarts under severe correction. At first it was impossible to get anything out of them but fawning praise of the Hojo, uttered in trembling accents, in which fear battled with incoherence. Hojo was excellent and merciful. Had he not deigned to forgive their unpardonable sin, and set them free unhurt? Let them live under their own hats and be content, he had declared. If there were any noble individuals more admirable than the gracious lord No-Kami-and that was scarcely possible-those two were their liege lady and the General Sampei; for 'twas through the intervention of these that my lord had condescended to remember the existence of his humblest tenants, who might otherwise have been still in duress.

With lowering brow Koshiu looked upon his fellows, for these cringing, spirit-broken villagers belonged to the same class as he. Were they worth saving, at the risk of his own life? And then a vision of the misery at Tsu, the growing suffering of all down-trodden Japan, rose upon his vision. No-Kami, thanks to the pleading of his wife and brother, had been pleased, after outrage and ignominy, to release the men who had committed no crime. But what of their petition? The petition? Let it go hang! The well-whipped hounds preferred that the subject should be dropped. How ill-timed was any mention of the petition. It had brought nothing but trouble-the less said about it the better. All they desired was to depart with speed. The sportive samurai might swoop again. Baring their arms, the envoys showed their wounds. The story of the saké was true, then. Little wonder if the starved wretches had had enough of the facetious horseplay of the soldiers.

Koshiu paced the mat with folded arms. Yes, they were right, and had better go and save their wizened carcases. Here they were of no service, only butts for scoffers. My lady O'Tei all knew to be an angel; but that the newly-arrived General should interest himself in peasants, was curious; and then the thought flashed suddenly on the indignant father that the absence of Miné from her home had coincided with the arrival of Sampei. Her tender pronunciation of his name, and constant championship, recurred to his memory, and he shrank as from strokes of the bamboo. As profligate as all the Hojos, he had, of course, signalled his return by the seduction of an innocent and too-trusting maiden, who, by-and-by, he would fling away. Perhaps from out that curtained kago on the road his erring daughter may have peeped at him. If it were so, never, never would he forgive his child. Had he not warned her of his undying hatred of Hojos, of all connected with bloodthirsty brutal tyrants? With difficulty controlling his emotions, while his comrades more than ever deemed him dangerously insane, he told them they were right. Since they could serve no further purpose, they had better go back to Tsu, and speedily. For his own part, he would remain, and bide his time, and, when opportunity offered, present the petition to the Emperor.

And so, after a sad and parting feast, the band of elders returned to their place, and Koshiu dwelt alone, brooding over his wrongs, over the oppression of his class, and the ruin of his daughter, while his family bewailed at home. His impression was that the Mikado's supineness rose not from weakness but from indifference, out of which he might be roused. One day arrived a pedlar with news from Tsu, and a melancholy message from his wife, the faithful Kennui, which completely satisfied his mind that his suspicions were but too well founded. Miné had never again sought the legitimate shelter of her parents' roof, but was dwelling, if report spoke truly, with the mother of Sampei. Even she, then, the peasant-born, suffered under the taint which enveloped that hated race. The Abbess, who pretended to be pious, could stoop to shield his daughter's infamy, and give shelter to the mistress of her son. Poor soul, had she not been herself a concubine, and debased by pernicious surroundings? Ah, but the position of second wife-acknowledged concubine-was different from that of his own degraded daughter. No fixed position was hers, of course, or ever would be, since she had been so misguided as to throw herself into her lover's arms. And when he was weary of her? It would not bear thinking of, for Koshiu in his way was proud as any noble. Sampei and his mother were as bad as the rest, worthy to wear the cognisance of Hojo. The longer the farmer brooded, the harder grew his heart, the more bitter his resentment, and he hailed with fierce joy the news, at last, that the Mikado was to visit Nara.

It was a solemn ceremony the pilgrimage of the Emperor to the Sacred Groves of Nara, one which, although the distance was short, he was expected to perform but once or twice during his career. Unlike lesser magnates, who were content with kagos-litters, more or less sumptuous, borne on men's shoulders-the Mikado travelled in a ponderous carriage on huge cumbrous wheels, its roof thatched with the long grey straws of a peculiar grass, its wood-work elaborately lacquered with the imperial crest, its windows closely curtained with the finest matting, which flapped with many tassels. The progress of so unwieldy a machine over a primitive road was slow. In front went a bodyguard on foot, followed by soldiers on horseback; then came the weighty kagos of the kugés in attendance, brave with banners and devices; then the Mikado's swaying uneasy carriage, drawn by eight horses in broidered housings; then more heavy litters and more soldiers, and a long straggling tail like that of a kite, composed of servants and rabble. It took many hours to penetrate through the tortuous and squalid suburbs of the capital, consisting for the most part of the shops of pawnbrokers and vendors of cheap toys and idols, jutting at will into the road, the procession stopped from time to time by hosts of the faithful on their faces.