The family of the Guji of Hinomisaki is one of the oldest of the Kwazoku
or noble families of Izumo; and the daughters are still addressed by the
antique title of Princess--O-Hime-San. The ancient official designation
of the pontiff himself was Kengyo, as that of the Kitzuki pontiff was
Kokuzo; and the families of the Hinomisaki and of the Kitzuki Guji are
closely related.
There is one touching and terrible tradition in the long history of
the Kengyos of Hinomisaki, which throws a strange light upon the social
condition of this province in feudal days.
Seven generations ago, a Matsudaira, Daimyo of Izumo, made with great
pomp his first official visit to the temples of Hinomisaki, and was
nobly entertained by the Kengyo--doubtless in the same chamber of
a hundred mats which we to-day were privileged to see. According to
custom, the young wife of the host waited upon the regal visitor, and
served him with dainties and with wine. She was singularly beautiful;
and her beauty, unfortunately, bewitched the Daimyo. With kingly
insolence he demanded that she should leave her husband and become his
concubine. Although astounded and terrified, she answered bravely, like
the true daughter of a samurai, that she was a loving wife and mother,
and that, sooner than desert her husband and her child, she would put
an end to her life with her own hand. The great Lord of Izumo sullenly
departed without further speech, leaving the little household plunged in
uttermost grief and anxiety; for it was too well known that the prince
would suffer no obstacle to remain in the way of his lust or his hate.
The anxiety, indeed, proved to be well founded. Scarcely had the Daimyo
returned to his domains when he began to devise means for the ruin
of the Kengyo. Soon afterward, the latter was suddenly and forcibly
separated from his family, hastily tried for some imaginary offence,
and banished to the islands of Oki. Some say the ship on which he sailed
went down at sea with all on board. Others say that he was conveyed to
Oki, but only to die there of misery and cold. At all events, the old
Izumo records state that, in the year corresponding to A.D. 1661 'the
Kengyo Takatoshi died in the land of Oki.'
On receiving news of the Kengyo's death, Matsudaira scarcely concealed
his exultation. The object of his passion was the daughter of his own
Karo, or minister, one of the noblest samurai of Matsue, by name Kamiya.
Kamiya was at once summoned before the Daimyo, who said to him: 'Thy
daughter's husband being dead, there exists no longer any reason that
she should not enter into my household. Do thou bring her hither.' The
Karo touched the floor with his forehead, and departed on his errand.
Upon the following day he re-entered the prince's apartment, and,
performing the customary prostration, announced that his lord's commands
had been obeyed--that the victim had arrived.
Smiling for pleasure, the Matsudaira ordered that she should be brought
at once into his presence. The Karo prostrated himself, retired and
presently returning, placed before his master a kubi-oke [4] upon which
lay the freshly-severed head of a beautiful woman--the head of the young
wife of the dead Kengyo--with the simple utterance:
'This is my daughter.'
Dead by her own brave will--but never dishonoured.
Seven generations have been buried since the Matsudaira strove to
appease his remorse by the building of temples and the erection of
monuments to the memory of his victim. His own race died with him: those
who now bear the illustrious name of that long line of daimyos are
not of the same blood; and the grim ruin of his castle, devoured by
vegetation, is tenanted only by lizards and bats. But the Kamiya
family endures; no longer wealthy, as in feudal times, but still highly
honoured in their native city. And each high pontiff of Hinomisakei
chooses always his bride from among the daughters of that valiant race.
NOTE.--The Kengyo of the above tradition was enshrined by Matsudaira in
the temple of Shiyekei-jinja, at Oyama, near Matsue. This miya was built
for an atonement; and the people still pray to the spirit of the Kengyo.
Near this temple formerly stood a very popular theatre, also erected by
the Daimyo in his earnest desire to appease the soul of his victim; for
he had heard that the Kengyo was very fond of theatrical performances.
The temple is still in excellent preservation; but the theatre has long
since disappeared; and its site is occupied by a farmer's vegetable
garden.