MATTERS ECCLESIASTICAL
Inagaki Sho[u]gen received the news at dawn, just as he was leaving the
castle on completion of his night watch. The old knight smiled gravely,
thanked the bearer of the message, and rewarded him with lavish hand.
The _kago_ bearers jolted on. The news had reached the train, and
_chu[u]gen_ and spearman exchanged whispers. On arrival at the Inagaki
_yashiki_ his lordship made no motion to descend. The chamberlain
raising the curtain gave a cry of horror. The old man lay stretched at
the bottom of the little chamber. The dagger and the pool of blood told
the tale. Sho[u]gen had followed the example of his son. He, too, now
trod the paths of Shideyama.
With laggard tottering step Akiyama Cho[u]zaémon entered his house.
Regardless of wife and the cushion she offered, of the hardly repressed
tear in her salutation, he cast himself full length on the mats. He
buried his face in his arms. The groans which issued from the prostrate
body frightened the woman. "The honoured return; has other misfortune
fallen on the House?" A shrug of the shoulders, a shiver; then the man
half rose and faced her. She was startled at his expression. He was
facing the most dreadful, not mere thought of ruin to him and
his--"Suzuki San is liar and thief. Fifty _ryo[u]_ in hand the promise
was for abstention. Now he demands twenty _ryo[u]_ more--the interest on
the debt in full." His voice rose to a harsh scream. He laughed
despairingly. "Seventy-five _ryo[u]_ interest, for the loan of a month;
and that loan forced on this Cho[u]zaémon by Ito[u] Kwaiba! Kibei has
squandered everything. The loan comes back on the bail. If Suzuki holds
the interest in hand, he allows the principal, three hundred and fifty
_ryo[u]_, to stand for the month. Unless he has the lacking twenty-five
_ryo[u]_ by the fourth hour (9 A.M.) to-morrow, complaint is laid at the
office. As usual the interest is written into the face of the bond. The
end is certain. This Cho[u]zaémon must cut belly or suffer degradation
(_kaieki_)." He looked her over critically. The light of hope died out
of his eyes--"Ah! If this Tsuyu could but be sold, the money would be in
hand. But she is old and ugly. Pfaugh!..." How he hated her at this
moment. Some half a dozen years older than Cho[u]zaémon the marriage had
been arranged by the parents on truly financial principles. Mizoguchi
Hampei was rich, and reputed stingy and saving. Just recently he had
fallen into the Edogawa as he returned home late one night. Drunk and
surfeited with the foul waters of the stream they had fished him out
stone dead. Then it was learned that the old fellow of sixty odd years
had several concubines, of the kind to eat into house and fortune. The
reversion of the pension, of course, went to the House. In all these
years Cho[u]zaémon had never received the dower of O'Tsuyu; nor dared to
press the rich man for it, too generous to his daughter to quarrel with.
The funds eagerly looked for by Cho[u]zaémon were found to be _non est
inventus_. Probably, if alive, Mizoguchi would have argued that the
dower had been paid in instalments. In his grave difficulties Akiyama
could find no aid in his wife. She mourned her uselessness--"Willingly
would Tsuyu come to the aid of House and husband, join her daughter in
the bitter service. But past forty years.... 'Tis useless to think of
it. Perhaps some expedient will come to mind." She brought out the arm
rest and placed it near his side. Then she sat apart watching him. From
time to time was heard the tap of her pipe as she knocked out the ashes.
At last, overcome by sleep and seeing no sign of movement on the
husband's part, she went off to bed, expecting that he would soon
follow.
She woke with a start--"Father! Father!" The voice of O'Tsuru rang
sharply in her ears. Dazed she half rose and looked around her. The
daylight streamed through the closed _amado_. She had been dreaming.
With surprise she noted her husband's absence. Had he gone forth? The
cries of a bean curd seller were heard without--"_To[u]fu!_ _To[u]fu!_
The best of _to[u]fu_!" The palatable, cheap, and nutritious food was a
standard meal in this house as in many others of Nippon. Akiyama was
most generous in indulgence of his passions for gambling, wine, and the
women of Shinjuku; and his household with equal generosity were indulged
in an economical regimen of _to[u]fu_. The wife rose to answer the call
of the street huckster. Her surprise increased as she found every means
of exit bolted and barred, as during the night. The open sliding window
in the kitchen roof caught her eye. Surely he had not departed that way!
As she opened the back door a murmur of voices, as in the roadway or
close by, struck her ear. The _to[u]fu_ seller had his head turned away
looking upward. At her call he turned quickly with apology--"Good day,
honoured lady. A strange event! Ah! The honoured household still sleeps.
All is silent.... Strange indeed! A man has hung himself on the big oak
tree in the temple ground. Deign to look." He pointed to the big tree
close by in the grounds of the Myo[u]gyo[u]ji.[35] Sure enough: forty
feet from the ground dangled the body of a man. It swayed gently to and
fro in harmony with the movement of the branches. A hand seemed to grasp
the heart of Tsuyu. The branches of the tree reached far over their
roof. The open _hikimado_! With feeble voice she said--"My husband; he
is strangely absent. Deign, somebody, to climb up and find out whether
this man is--of the ward." The startled _to[u]fu_ seller hastened to get
aid. Several men entered the garden, quickly mounted to the roof, and
thus reached the tree. Said the topmost fellow--"Ma! Ma! It is no pretty
sight. He makes a hideous spectacle. The face is black as a rice boiler.
The eyes stand out as if ready to burst. The tongue hangs out like a
true guard (_hyo[u]tan_). The grin on the distended mouth is not nice to
see. Ah! The rascal has used the merest cord to cut himself off. And he
has nearly done so. The head is almost severed." He gave a
shout--"Naruhodo! Why, its...." One close by silenced him. The men above
looked down. They made signs to those below. The women gathered around
O'Tsuyu as if to keep her from the sight. She broke away from them as
the body was gently lowered to the ground. Her shrieks rang loud. They
strove to detach her from the dead body of Cho[u]zaémon. The House
ruined, daughter and husband taken out of her life in a single day; the
blow was too crushing for a brain harassed by a life with this debauched
worthless man. Her warders struggled with one gone clean daft. Years
after men grown up from childhood in the ward looked with pity at the
feeble ragged old mad beggar woman who crouched by the beautiful bronze
dragon which ornaments the water basin of the Ten-o[u] Jinja. They would
drop in her hand a copper "cash," and drive off with rebuke the children
who taunted and annoyed her--as they had done years before. Thus were
mother and daughter--the innocent--involved in the father's crime
against the dread Lady of Tamiya.
All these events created a tremendous stir in Yotsuya. Men disliked to
go abroad at night. Women, to their great inconvenience were confined to
the house. Two figures approaching each other in the darkness would be
seen to hesitate and stop. "What's that--standing, slinking yonder by
the wall? Alas! This Kinsaburo[u], this Genzaémon has evil fortune led
him into the clutches of the O'Baké? O'Iwa! O'Iwa!" With that and mad
cries they would fall on each other; at times only to exercise restraint
after some injury had been done. Hence quarrels arose; feuds, started in
all innocence, came into being. Women, as suspects, were chief
sufferers. The local atmosphere was overcharged, nerve racked. And so
from Honjo[u] to Nakacho[u] (Shinjuku), from Nakanocho[u] (Yoshiwara) to
Shinagawa, even in the nearer post towns of Kawasaki, Tsurumi, and
Kanagawa the talk was spreading of the strange happenings in Yotsuya of
Edo town. Katada Tatéwaki, descendant of that Katada Samon who, as
vassal of Gongen Samon (Iyeyasu) had had this Aoyama-Yotsuya district in
fief, now first began his inquiries into the affair. The Katada had wide
possessions elsewhere at the time of the grant. Samon had gifted much of
his new fief as temple land, and on the old maps of the day this part of
Edo is a blood red splash, indication of these many establishments. But
the Katada influence still prevailed through the ward, indeed through
the more than good will of the beneficiaries. Tatéwaki's _yashiki_ was
at the top of Ushigomézaka. His modest pension of a thousand _koku_ by
no means represented the extent of his power. Iémon became frightened at
the storm gathering against him. He was open to all suggestions of
remedy for the cataleptic state into which O'Hana had fallen. The
neighbour gossips suggested calling in the Daiho[u]-in of Shiomachi. A
service kept part at least of the money in the ward. They had their
share in provision and consumption; the fifty _ryo[u]_ necessary were
much to them--and to Iémon in his present circumstances.
The neighbours were assembled at Tamiya. Iémon went forth to greet the
Daiho[u]-in. With his attendant _kannushi_ and train he presented
himself at the entrance. Iémon was prostrate in salutation before the
great man.--"Reverential thanks for the condescension. Deign to enter
this unfortunate house." The Shinto[u] priest was brusque, as is the way
of the kind. Himself he was the _samurai_, with all the tone of official
manner. "Ha! Ha! Salutation to all." He gave a comprehensive glance
through the assembly and lost none of them in the process. He approached
the couch of O'Hana. He opened the closed eyes, which stared fixedly
into space as of one dead. He raised an arm upright from the body.
Stepping aside, he squatted. Some moments passed. The arm remained
rigidly upright. Satisfied, the Daiho[u]-in signed to his attendants.
Raising O'Hana they placed her in a sitting posture on a mat. Her hair
was arranged in _icho[u]mage_.[36] A _gohei_ was placed between her
hands. Then the Daiho[u]-in began the recitation of the prayers and
charms. The other priests gave voice at times in response. All present
were awe-struck. The women hardly breathed, leaning eagerly forward.
Their eyes took on a vacant stare, as if themselves mesmerized. The
_gohei_ began to tremble; then to shake violently. The woman's hair fell
down in disorder around her face. All turned away their faces. Some
women gave smothered cries. It was O'Iwa San who glared at them out of
those eyes. The Daiho[u]-in eagerly leaned close over O'Hana--"O'Iwa:
where are you? What has become of your body? Be sure to speak the truth.
Don't attempt to lie to the priest.... You don't know? Ah! you would be
obstinate in your grudge. The charm shakes and quivers; it possesses
O'Iwa.... You would rest in Samoncho[u] ground? That is much to ask;
particularly when the body is not in hand.... A substitute will do? Ah!
Prayers?... For a year, at morn and night of each day? That is terrific.
Consider the cost.... You care not for the cost! Only then will you
cease to afflict the ward?... Very well: humbly this Daiho[u]-in
transmits the will of the dead."
Thus did the priestly mediator interpret to his gaping auditors the
mumbling and cries given forth by O'Hana. The wild look faded from her
eyes. She rolled over as in a faint. The priests raised her up. The
Daiho[u]-in turned to Iémon and the assembly--"The words of O'Iwa have
been heard through this woman. O'Hana has been possessed by O'Iwa. Hence
her trance.... Heigh! Water!" He began making passes over his
patient--"The stage has passed. O'Hana no longer is possessed by O'Iwa.
The wronged lady leaves O'Hana to peace. O'Hana is completely herself
again. O'Iwa is all delusion. O'Hana believes this. She believes firmly.
The Daiho[u]-in tells her to believe. O'Iwa does not haunt O'Hana. O'Iwa
has no ill will against O'Hana." He looked fixedly and with command into
the eyes of O'Hana. His voice rang clear and authoritative. Then he
began gently to stroke the back of her head, her neck and spine. "All is
well?" "Hai! Hai! This Hana is completely restored. All is well." With a
little sigh she sank back, to be laid on the cushions in a sleep which
all wondered to see was most natural. Those present were in transports
of delight. They buzzed approval as the Daiho[u]-in addressed Iémon.
"The Daiho[u]-in has done his part. All have heard the words of O'Iwa
San. The rest lies with the temple. Deign to receive these words. The
Daiho[u]-in returns." With his pack voicing loudly at his tail he left
the entrance gate. The assembly streamed after. Iémon was left alone,
biting his thumbs in helpless rage. He was aghast. "The old fox! What is
to be done, pressed as Iémon is for funds? How is this Iémon to act?
Refusal means the open hostility of the whole ward. It will turn against
him. Ah! What a miserable old scamp. He did it all himself; he and his
confederates. The gods descend from above; the Daiho[u]-in shakes the
_gohei_ from below--and those fools believe, to the ruin of Iémon!"
Hence he would have postponed the costly appeal to the temple. Within
the week a committee of the ward waited upon him. As if expecting them,
Iémon gave ready compliance. With four or five other gentlemen he waited
upon Shu[u]den Osho[u], the famous priest of the temple of the Gyo[u]ran
Kwannon. The Lady Merciful, Kwannon Sama, seemed the fitting deity to
whom appeal should be made. A word is to be said as to this famous
manifestation of the goddess. Told by Ryuo[u] at length, of necessity
here the account is much abridged. Gyo[u]ran Kwannon--Kwannon of the
fish-basket--has several other names. She is called the Namagusai
Kwannon, from the odour of fresh blood attached to the pursuit; the
Byaku Kwannon, or the white robed; the Baryufu Kwannon, as wife of Baryu
the fisherman. The image of the Byaku Kwannon exists.[37] It is carved
in white wood, stained black, with a scroll in the right hand, and
holding a fish basket (_gyo[u]ran_) in the left hand. The story of
Baryu, and of his connection with Kwannon, is of more moment.
In Morokoshi (China) there is a place called Kinshaden. Across the bay
from Edo-To[u]kyo[u] is Kazusa with its ninety-nine villages, one of
which has the same name--Kinshaden. The fishing population of Nippon is
a rough lot. From babyhood there is little but quarrelling and fighting
between the bands which control the different wards of the villages. The
relations between the people are very primitive. One of the important
occupations is the _iwashi_, or pilchard, fishing. To pull in the nets
loaded with the fish requires the united effort of the whole village
population, men, women, even children. Among their toilers the people of
Kinshaden noted a young girl of some sixteen or seventeen years; easily
noted by the great beauty and attraction of face and figure, the willing
readiness and wonderful strength she showed in her struggles with the
weighted net. As she appeared several times at last some men went up to
her--"Girl, you are a stranger here. For your aid thanks are offered.
Who may you be; and whence from? Strangers, even in kindness, in Nippon
must not conceal their names." The girl smiled.--"I come from
Fudarakusan in the South Ocean.... Where is Fudarakusan? It is in
India.... And India? It is in the South Ocean, the Nankai." To the
wonder expressed at her coming such a distance of thousands of _ri_--"I
come, I serve, for my husband."--"Your husband? Pray who may he be, in
these parts?"--"Not yet is he chosen," answered the girl. "Come! The
nets are drawn, the fishing ended for the day. I will ascend that rock;
read the sutra of the Lady Kwannon. He who can first memorize it shall
be my husband." Ready was the assent to such an attractive proposal--a
beautiful helpmate in prospect, one endowed with surprising strength for
her frail form, and who seemed to bring luck to the efforts of the
village in the struggle for a livelihood. Even the Nipponese prejudice
against strangers paled before such practical qualification.
The maid ascended to the rostrum. For three days she read and expounded
the holy sutra of the Lady Kwannon. On the fourth day the fisherman
Baryu--young, handsome, strong--felt sure that he could answer to the
test. "Woman, descend! To-day this Baryu will repeat the sutra, expound
its meaning." With seeming surprise and merriment the girl obeyed. Baryu
took her place. Without slip or fault he repeated the sutra, expounded
the intricacies of its meaning. The girl bowed low in submission.
"Condescend to admit my humble person to the hut of Baryu the fisherman.
To-night she pollutes with her presence a corner of his bed-chamber."
Rejoicing Baryu at once took her to his home, where he would act the
husband. At first gently she rebuked him. "These rough people of
Kinshaden have regard to nothing! There is such a rite as marriage. Nine
times are the _saké_ cups to be drained between husband and wife. Thus
is established this important relation. In the connection between man
and woman there is such a thing as etiquette. This observed, the woman
passes to the possession of the man. For the woman, second marriage
there is none."
Thus were the decencies of the marriage bed taught to the rough
fisherman. Near dawn Baryu awoke with surprise. His bed-fellow was in the
last extremities. Dripping with sweat, she seemed to be melting away.
Already she was unconscious. Then vomiting forth water she died. Baryu was
tremendously put out. To lose a wife, who barely had been a wife; one so
beautiful, so strong; this was extremely vexatious. "This won't do at all!
Why has such a misfortune befallen this Baryu? O'Kabe (Miss Plaster) and
O'Nabé (Miss Stewpan) endured without mishap the passage of their marriage
night.... Hai! Hai!" in reply to a friend knocking at the door. "Baryu
cannot go to the fishing to-day.... The woman? She has died. Baryu's wife
is dead." Opening the door he retailed his experience to the wondering
friend. As they talked, along came a priest most strangely dressed for
this land. Approaching them he said--"Is this the house of Baryu?" At the
fisherman's acknowledgement--"Has a girl come here?... Dead! Deign to let
this foolish cleric hang eyes upon her." Baryu thought he would take his
turn at questions. "And you; whence from?" "From Fudarakusan in the
Nankai." "Get you hence, frantic interloper," broke in Baryu with grief
and anger. "Enough has this Baryu heard of Fudarakusan. Baryu must needs
observe his state as widower. The month must pass before he seeks a wife.
And more than half its days remain! But look." Mollified by the humble
attitude of the priest he went and raised the coverlet from the woman's
body. He uttered a cry of surprise. "Oya! Oya! She has disappeared. There
is naught here but a wooden image. Ma! Ma! what a curious figure--with
scroll and fish basket, just as the wife appeared at the beach. This is
what one reads of in books." He turned to the priest in wonder and as
seeking explanation. Said the latter with earnest and noble
emphasis--"Favoured has been this Baryu. The Kwannon of Fudarakusan of
Nankai has shown herself before his very eyes. For the reform of this
wicked people, to teach them the holy writing, she has condescended to
submit to the embraces of the fisherman. Let not Baryu think of other
marriage. For him has come the call to leave this world. Fail not to
obey." Baryu rushed to the door, to catch but a glimpse of the departing
form. All sign of the priest quickly faded. Baryu returned to the wooden
figure lying where once had reposed the body of the beautiful girl. It was
a most unsatisfactory substitute for the flesh and blood original. But
Baryu made the most of it. He took his vow. He shaved his head, becoming a
priest to recite and preach the sutra of the Lady Kwannon. Hence this
Kwannon is known as the Baryufu Kwannon--wife of Baryu the fisherman.
Hence she is called the Kwannon of the fish basket, in honour of the aid
she brought the people of this village and land.