The Curse of Koshiu: A Chronicle of Old Japan

Once free of buildings, the imperial cortége advanced by a wide way straight as an arrow across a plain devoted to the cultivation of tea, and by nightfall reached Uji. Here there was a villa overhanging with wide, wooden balconies a rushing stream-the Uji-Kawa, which rises in lake Biwa-spanned by a semicircular bridge formed of an intricate network of heavy timbers, for in winter this river swells into a torrent, sweeping all that is weak before it. This villa was for the special use of the sovereign, as might be guessed, from its lack of adornment. So high is the Mikado, that, in a general way, he is above the employment of ornament. His villas and summer-houses (unlike those of his brother of China) are as conspicuous for simplicity as his dress. Everything is of the very best that skill can produce, the woodwork of the very finest which the hand of man can command, the mats trimmed with a red and white braid forbidden to other men. His eyes look upon no pictures or porcelains or bronzes, for to one who communes at will with deities or spirits, and may peep even sometimes into Nirvana, such trivialities are, of course, superfluous. In the Imperial Palace of Kiŷoto it is different, for there he deigns to associate in a degree with mere common nobles and wives, to whom austere simplicity would be depressing if not soul-withering. In this villa, the Emperor, by time-honoured custom, was to pass the night, his cortége camping around for the protection of the sacred person.

Now Koshiu, whose object in life was the presenting of a memorial which should lead to the abrogation of imposts, and the holding up of the Hojos to deserved obloquy, knew right well that there was no reaching the imperial ear, either in Kiŷoto or on the road to Uji, by reason of a throng of guards. During the next day's route over the mountains, on the other side of which was Nara, the cumbrous carriage would be prevented from toppling over by myriad hands pressed on either wheel, but the brilliant idea had occurred to the farmer that in crossing the timber bridge, whose width was just sufficient for the passage of the vehicle, there would be none to defend either of the curtained windows, the guards of necessity passing on in front or dropping behind until the stream was crossed, and that here lay his only chance. In the night therefore, after prayers and ablutions, he took advantage of the darkness to swim into mid-stream unnoticed, and being washed against one of the pillars, to make good his footing, and climbing on the bridge, to secrete himself under a convenient shadow. Then with his knife he pruned a long bamboo, split it at the top, and inserting the memorial therein, awaited day.

The journey was yet long to Nara, and over the mountains fraught with possible disaster, so all were early astir. With wildly-beating heart and throbbing temples Koshiu heard the clatter of horses overhead, the rhythmed step of infantry, and then the thunder of the great wheels grinding under their heavy load. Now or never. Calculating his time to a nicety, the farmer nimbly climbed upon the parapet, and before the astonished guards could stop him, lifted a corner of the mat, and inserting his bamboo, cried in a loud voice, -

"Take, O great Mikado! Fountain of Honour, this the petition of your humblest slave. Have pity on your people, O sovereign lord, ground down by the wicked Hojo!"

The driver of the horses, aghast, stopped open-mouthed; the cavalcade stood still; the guards, with a yell, dashed clambering forward, to fling into the stream this audacious one, riddled with sword-thrusts; but the old Daimio of Nara, who, disdaining a kago, rode close behind, spurred quickly through the men, and, raising both hands, bade them refrain. He had caught the words "wicked Hojo," saw that what might have been a spear was already withdrawn, and was no more than a cleft stick, and guessed the purport of the attempt.

"'Tis a petition," Nara cried. "Our imperial lord already holds the man's paper in his sacred hand. It is for him, and not for us, to decide upon his fate."

Clutched by a dozen fists, Koshiu remained poised and stifled on the parapet, and presently a low voice issued from the shadow.

"I will read the petition on my return from the sacred groves. Keep the man close and safe. See that no harm comes to him."

The Daimio of Nara, with a cunning smile lurking about his lips, gave orders that the pilgrim should be safely conducted to his own private apartment in the palace, and then the ponderous procession moved on again, and crawled up the mountain.

CHAPTER VI.

THE YOUNG MIKADO

Tomoyé, the brawny but practical, proved herself more clear-sighted than the statesman-warrior her husband. Hojo, the elder, certainly made the most serious blunder of his life when he arranged that marriage for his heir. A gulf 'twixt a husband and a wife cannot but widen daily, and the part of the latter, right or wrong, is sure to be espoused by her father. The admirable combinations that were to result from an alliance of the houses of Hojo and Nara were conspicuous by absence. As time went on, the haughty No-Kami, averse at all times to advice, showed to his wife's parent his most aggressive side, lest he should presume to lecture.

Although the Daimio of Nara had seen but little of his child, he had received from time to time such affectionate reports concerning the maiden, from the priests and priestesses who had supervised her education, that he was fully conscious of her worth. Between the two lords there was a show of courtesy, which masked on the one side jealousy of interference, on the other, hate. The father of O'Tei, although he pretended to perceive nothing, resented bitterly the scornful neglect with which she was treated by her spouse. During the rare visits of the young chatelaine to the capital, he could see how sad she was, and worn and listless, instead of vivacious and gay, as became her years; and in his heart, antipathy for the despot, implanted by cruelty to the Mikado, increased a hundredfold. He was too wary to quarrel yet with Hojo, but whenever he vouchsafed advice (as he did now and then, for the sake, as he said, of the departed), it was of a kind which rendered No-Kami more execrated still, more unpopular with the people he oppressed. The return of Sampei, and the demeanour of that warrior, produced fresh combinations in the subtle brain of Nara. It was plain that he was shocked by the excesses of his brother. He came of ambitious stock, and the long bloody tale of the history of Japan is full of the rivalry of brothers. What if he could be cajoled or goaded to take arms against him? The unruly army which he had brought back from Corea, accustomed to plunder and lawless licence, would have to be employed somehow, for idleness begets mischief. So long as Mikado and Daimios remained quiescent, the swash-bucklers could not be used against them, and, unemployed they would soon be a source of trouble. What if, by waiting, the enemies of the Hojo could succeed in turning against him the very troops he had summoned for his defence; and what if, by crafty manœuvring, the disgust of Sampei could be raised to such a pitch as to induce him to resume their command?

As the general who had led them from victory to victory, his soldiers adored Sampei. In time, they might probably be made useful as a scourge for Hojo, without their commander, by prospect of pillaging castles, but if he whom they idolised were to summon them forth in the direction of their inclinations, there was no doubt they would follow in a mass. While his master was telling his beads before the great bronze idol in the Nara temple, the thoughts of the lord of the soil were engaged elsewhere, and he resolved on the first opportunity to sound Sampei, and to arrange his plans accordingly.

It was a fortnight after the incident on the bridge of Uji that the imperial cortége wound down the mountain, and returned to the palace in the capital. What a dreary spot this same palace, more like a prison than a free residence, well suited to the ghastly life of blank monotony led by its miserable occupant.

The chief abode of the Mikado occupies a vast space of ground in the centre of the city of Kiŷoto, surrounded by a high white wall, devoid of windows. Passing through a postern in a huge and highly-decorated gate, crowned by an immense tiled roof, you find yourself in a labyrinth, where you would speedily be lost without a guide, for long low buildings meander in and out, and meet at angles, one exactly like another, forming a series of little courtyards, adorned with prim grey bushes. The walls of these are of one pattern, formed of white plaster in timber settings, with heavy roofs and eaves. None of the buildings boast of more than a single storey, which is elevated on posts, a yard above the ground; this by reason of earthquakes, and unclean insects, which have no respect for Emperors. The long outer passages are protected from the weather by verandahs, because persons below a certain rank may not venture to breathe under the same roof as the Fountain of Honour, but must squat humbly in the air without. All the inner wood-work is of pine, smoothly planed, and left unpolished, set at points of junction with sumptuously sculptured nails; while mats are of the finest kind, trimmed white and red with the imperial braid. Within, the sliding screens which at will divide most of the space into small or large chambers, are of drab silk, spotted with gold dots, in form of clouds. There is no furniture, except a few low red lacquer tables.

The private suite of the Mikado saddens the soul, so small, and dismal, and uncomfortable are the rooms, or rather hutches, with no prospect or view outside, but three bare walls, a flag-pavement, and half-a-dozen bushes; and the mind turns involuntarily to the thought of Spanish Queens, whose drear existences must have been hilariously gay when compared with those of the Mikados. Sure many of these must have gone melancholy mad, or have sought relief from despondency by drowning care in the saké-cup. For the better protection of the Fountain of Honour, the two closets he inhabits are buried away in the centre of the labyrinth. There is nothing for him to hear but low, respectful sibillation, and the tramp of guards; nothing to see but nobles sprawling on their faces, with a glum background of whitewash, and a few tortoises wandering over the stones.

At the period which now concerns us, the Mikado usually sat upon a chair, while the kuges, in court trousers (Uye no Bakama) many yards under their feet, wearing high black crape hats, and brocaded trains-narrow and stiff, and of exceeding length-(kiyō) reclined around him on the mat. When the potentate felt more bored than usual, he retired into a square tent (of the size of an old-fashioned European bed) in the middle of the room; which tent was composed of snowy silk, embroidered with bamboo and storks, and garnished with long streamers, red and black, decorated with butterflies. Inside the tent was placed a chair, and two low stools.

A few yards off is a dark place surrounded by gilt folding screens, in which is another tent. This was for the Fountain of Honour when boredom reached a climax, and he felt compelled to flee mankind. On state occasions he moved into a spacious hall at the back, whose sliding screens are painted with portraits, full length, of Chinese sages, and whose look-out is a shade more cheerful; for beyond there is a garden, with a lake full of speckled fish, some groups of pines, and quaint stone bridges. In the centre of the hall is yet another tent, precisely similar to the others-for the purpose of special audience, for the room is so large, that neither the elect, who knelt around, or the unelect, who crouched in the verandah, could overhear what passed within the curtains.

Into this hall, on the day after the return, trooped all who possessed the privilege, while the yards and passages were full of hatamotos and retainers; for the Fountain of Honour, refreshed by prayer and change of scene, declared he would attend to business.

In the first place, audience must be vouchsafed to the victorious General, that he might relate his deeds of valour, and receive thanks for faithful service; and then a consultation must be held, with closed doors, on the subject of the peasant and his petition. At mention of the audacious peasant, Nara smiled quietly, for he thought he saw his way to make a weapon of him wherewith to vex the enemy.

Owing to the ruin and banishment of three Emperors, the present reigning one was a cowed youth, a pale and depressed boy, with a look of constant apprehension lurking in his eyes. So well drilled was he that the sound of his tyrant's footfall caused him to tremble; so acutely did he feel his equivocal position, that many a time, after a period of reverie, he would start and wince, as if expecting the descent of the blade that was suspended over his head. Poor Koshiu! Could he have looked on the liege lord-so timorous and helpless-who was awful, because invisible, he would probably have thought twice before making that rash attempt.

When Sampei, after prostration and the orthodox nine head-knockings of humility, was invited to occupy a stool within the tent, Nara was bidden, by a wave of the august fan, to take the other, and thus withdrawn from inquisitive eyes and ears, the Daimio of Nara deemed this to be a propitious moment for peering into the future. He drew out the modest General, and, as mouthpiece of his master, made pretty speeches, while the Mikado was anxiously scanning his face, seeking his brother's features.

Presently the Emperor gave a sigh of relief. It was a good-natured open visage, considerably tanned, ornamented (from a military point of view) by a deep scar across the brow, scored by a Corean spear. Although a Hojo, it was possible to feel comfortable in his presence, and the heart of the sad recluse quite warmed to him when Nara, with insidious flattery, related an episode of his career. He told of how young Sampei, in camp one day, investing the Taira forces, beheld a warrior whose crimson armour and golden cognisance marked him for a Taira noble. "Come hither and fight!" he cried, and both charged fiercely one at the other with gleaming blades. After a few passes, the Taira dropped his sword, and Sampei, chivalrous always, flung his away and rushed to clasp his foe. Close-locked they fell from their saddles on the sand, the Hojo uppermost. Tearing off the bedizened helm, with intent to strike, he was amazed to see not a hardy old campaigner but a delicate and lovely boy! Rising, and handing to the vanquished his headgear. "So young," he said, "thy mother yet lives, doubtless. To her I give thee-go!"

Sampei looked down and blushed, not ill-pleased that his lord should learn to like him; while the Mikado muttered behind his fan, "Can this be the brother of No-Kami?"

After this jocund opening symphony, Nara changed his tune, and as he spoke of the suffering people, the General's face grew dark and sorrowful.

"And all this is due," Nara concluded, with emphasis, "to the head of the house of Hojo, whom the gods have made pre-eminent. The greater the gift, the greater will be the punishment for opportunities misused. Dare you deny that it is so?"

Sampei shuffled on his seat, with lowered head.

"My brother is unduly harsh," he stammered, – "perchance is ignorant-"

"What of the elders, then, and their petition?" demanded Nara.

"He has sent them home unhurt!" quickly responded Sampei.

"Ay, but with wrongs unredressed."

The young General was silent.

"You are the senior in years," observed the Daimio, pursuing his advantage, "and should claim some authority; further, even, if need be-"

Sampei drew himself up with dignity.

"You, the Daimio of Nara," he said proudly, "should know what is due from a vassal to his feudal chief. I am older in years, but not pure in blood. On my mother's side I am a peasant. I may grieve over my brother's follies, even chide with respectful gentleness, further than that I may not venture, as none should know better than yourself."

Nara felt angry and disappointed, for this was not what he expected. Could this brilliant fellow be destitute of personal ambition? Perhaps, more cunning than he seemed, he was waiting for something more explicit.

"You, then, an honest man," sneered the Daimio, "are prepared to stand by and see your flesh and blood perform the work of fiends? Perhaps I have made of your character a wrong estimate. Can it be that you enjoy the grievous plight of those to whose class, as you say, you partially belong? In crime an appreciative partner-perhaps even my lord Hojo's willing executioner?"

The Daimio laughed hoarsely, while the Mikado listened with pursed lips. Apparently the young soldier was not to be roused by taunts, for with a sigh he replied sadly, -

"You wrong me. If I cannot aid, I can perish with them, and so escape dishonour."

"By hara-kiri?" retorted Nara, with impatience, "a vastly useful way of helping the afflicted! When all is lost, death by the dirk is the only appropriate end to a high-born gentleman; but an honest man and a brave may not declare that things are hopelessly wrong until he has tried to right them. That they are wrong at present you will admit, after perusing this memorial, humbly presented to our common lord by one of Hojo's vassals."

Sampei took the paper, and, as he read, grew hot and cold with pity and indignation. And it was his own flesh and blood, as Nara said, who could act thus! The indictment was terrible in its straightforward simplicity. No wonder that the gentle wife of the tyrant, knowing what she must know, was fading slowly. And there was more trouble brewing-even simple Sampei could foresee that. If No-Kami had been so incensed at the elders daring to present a petition to himself, what would his feeling be when he knew that another had been handed to the Emperor? The Mikado having publicly received, would be bound to take some notice of it, – to make some attempt to check the excesses of the despot. And, knowing his brother as he now learned to know him, Sampei looked forward in dismay, for the wheel set rolling down a hill may not be stopped, and it was but too probable that, goaded by passion uncontrolled, crime heaped upon crime would, as O'Tei had suggested, induce some dire catastrophe.

A furtive glance at the dull weak face of the Emperor was not comforting. There was vacillation in every line of it. A gleam from No-Kami's wrathful eyes and he would shrivel up. Was it indeed the duty of his elder brother to stand forward and attempt to stay his junior's downward course? 'Tis a terrible thing when two of the same kin hold swords at one another's throats. And languishing O'Tei, what of her, whom he had secretly sworn to guard and cherish? Perhaps, by slaying her husband, he would be doing her a service as well as freeing the oppressed; but that husband his brother! To slay his brother! As the picture appeared upon his mental retina, Sampei shuddered; and then the thought flashed on him with vivid clearness that the stroke which slew his brother would delve for aye an impassable chasm 'twixt himself and her he loved. The young man heaved a sigh of relief, and raised his head. He was rescued from temptation for the time being, O'Tei the saving talisman. And then, his eye falling on the petition, he grew sorely perplexed. Was the old man right? Was it his bounden duty to interfere between the tyrant and his victims? What good would come of interference? Had he not intervened already for the behoof of the unlucky elders? It was not likely that the head of his house would brook incessant meddling. Slow-witted at the best, Sampei, the more he pondered, grew more wretched and uncertain. Nara marked with approving eye the extent of his uncertainty, and cast a keen glance of intelligence at his master. The poison instilled would slowly work, or Nara had mistaken his man. The seed was sown-must be left to swell and burst. Enough was done for the present.

Obedient to the signal of his most trusted counsellor, the Mikado graciously dismissed his General, with hope revived in the future. But the hope was short-lived. Scarcely had he emerged with lightened heart from out the tent, and, summoning the kuges together, had commanded the shutters to be closed, that the petition might be privately considered, than the sound of the awful footstep was heard on the creaking boards, and the soul of the hapless Emperor died within him. He writhed and turned scarlet under the insult, when, pushing back the shutter with a crash, No-Kami unannounced strode in.

"What is this?" he cried, in a harsh voice, omitting the customary obeisance. "I should not believe it, if I did not see you shivering there, red with conscious guilt. Leniency to the scum is worse than a crime-it is a fault. It was to please your daughter, Nara-that she should condescend to plead for such insolent vermin, says little for her rearing-that I forgave those villagers. And no sooner have I committed that insensate act, than I am most justly punished for it. Where is he-he who presumed to present to you a paper? He shall never present another."

The trembling Mikado looked piteously at Nara, who, stolid, and apparently both deaf and blind, moved no muscle.

"My lord No-Kami-" began the Emperor, but was quickly silenced.

"I ask no explanation," remarked the tyrant sternly, waving away argument. "I demand the paper and the man. He is my vassal and my chattel: where is he?"

"Here, under my protection. You forget yourself, my lord!" cried the Emperor, who, deserted by Nara, was stung to a poor show of self-assertion. "Under this roof he is safe."

No-Kami raised his brows slightly, and with stiff politeness said, -

"Since when may peasants enter where knights and samurai may not? These be new manners that we can scarce approve. You, my lord Nara, I believe took charge of the man. I thank you for your courtesy, and herewith reclaim my own."

To the consternation of the Emperor, who expected that now, at least, the one to whom he pinned his faith would speak boldly, the Daimio of Nara gravely bowed, and said, -

"If such is the pleasure of our master, be it so."

Put to the test, then, Nara was a windbag that had burst! The Mikado groaned in spirit.

"You will promise that he shall not be injured," stammered he, as, wincing under the basilisk eye, and seeking support in vain, the poor boy grew sick and giddy.

"You see, Lord Nara, that 'tis our master's wish," responded No-Kami bluntly. "I make no promises. My time is valuable, and my retinue without is waiting. See that the wretch is handed over instantly for immediate transport to my yashiki." And with this the Hojo turned and strode away, without deigning to await an answer.

The cup was full. The Fountain of Honour overflowed in a torrent of brackish tears. To be insulted thus before all the court; to be treated like a child; to be bearded with such dour disdain! The fate of his three predecessors, in their tranquil monastery, was preferable to his, alone upon the rack in the midst of empty grandeur. When Nara attempted to instil words of comfort, he turned on him with the swift, unreasoning vituperation of the weak.

"You on whom I leaned," he sobbed, – "who are ever prating of the wondrous things that you are going to do! Before him you tremble more than all the rest, and sit mumchance! The man will be tormented, and I thereby eternally disgraced, since I took him under my protection. When they hear of it, what will my people say, seeing me that monster's puppet?"

"They, will pity you," replied Nara quietly, "as they pity the other three. I am not so craven as you think. What if the man be tortured? He is but a boor of little consequence, and will be none the worse for martyrdom. Let be, let be-a little patience only. The more scurvily the man is treated, the better in the end; the deeper the universal execration for him we all detest. A little time, a little time, and all will be well, believe me. We have but to sit with hands devoutly folded, and wait; for the Hojo is preparing his own undoing, – carving out his own destruction!"

CHAPTER VII.

THE FARMER'S SENTENCE

Perhaps the Daimio of Nara was right in his prognostications of the probable. Although the lives of a few peasants are to Japanese patricians of but small account, there had been considerable excitement among the daimios over Hojo's high-handed treatment of the village elders, a tornado of lamentation among the lower and unarmed classes. Had the action of the despot been voted orthodox, had he unwaveringly pursued his course, the other lords would have done the same as he with joy, to wring out additional sums for pleasant uses; but as No-Kami gave way with little pressing, and thereby stultified his action, there was a general chorus of disapproval. If, excited and cruel, he were now to inflict signal vengeance on the unfortunate farmer, there would be still further uproar; and each fresh demonstration tended to a universal rising, for the destruction of the terrible octopus. Nara was old enough to have learned that the waiting game is generally best in the end, and preached sage wisdom to his master, who wept, being foolish, and young, and also uneasy in his mind.