It was snowing fast.
Already as far as eye could see the world was covered with a vast
silvery sheet. Hill and dale, tree and field, all alike clothed in
virgin white.
Caring nothing for the bitter cold, but loving the beautiful, Daté
Masamuné determined to go out to enjoy the scene. Accordingly,
accompanied by a few attendants, he wended his way to a pavilion set on
a low hill in the castle grounds whence an extensive view, embracing
the whole of his little fief of Osaki, could be obtained.
In later life Masamuné distinguished himself by signal service rendered
to the state, eventually becoming one of the greatest daimios in Japan,
under Iyeyasu, the first Shogun, but at this time Osaki was his sole
estate, and his income did not exceed 100,000 _koku_ of rice a year.
“What an enchanting picture! What can compare with a snow landscape?”
he exclaimed, as he stood enraptured, gazing with delight from the
balcony of the pavilion at the pure loveliness of the scene before
him. “It is said that snow foretells a fruitful year. When the harvest
is abundant great is the rejoicing of the people, and peace and
prosperity reign over the land!”
While his lordship thus soliloquized, Heishiro, the
sandal-bearer—Makabé Heishiro as he was called from his birthplace,
Makabé in Hitachi, a surname being a luxury unknown to the third
estate—waited without. Having adjusted his master’s footgear there
was nothing more to do till he should come out again. But presently
Heishiro observed that the snowflakes fell and lay somewhat thick on
his valuable charge. He hastened to brush them off with his sleeve, but
more flakes fell, and again the _geta_ (clogs) were covered with icy
particles.
“This will never do,” he said to himself. “His lordship disdains to
wear _tabi_ (socks) even in the coldest weather, deeming it a mark of
effeminacy; should he place his bare feet on these damp _geta_ he will
assuredly catch cold. I must keep them warm and dry for him.”
So the good fellow in the kindness of his simple heart took up the
heavy wooden clogs, and putting them in the bosom of his garment next
to his skin, continued his patient waiting.
“His lordship comes!”
Heishiro had just time to put the _geta_ straight on the large stone
step at the entrance before the double doors slid open right and left
and Masamuné appeared, young, imperious.
He slipped his feet on to the _geta_. How was this? They felt warm to
his touch! How could that be in such freezing weather? There could be
but one explanation. That lazy lout of a sandal-bearer had been using
them as a seat—sitting on the honourable footgear of his august master!
The insufferable insolence, of the fellow!
In a passion at the supposed insult he caught the offender by the nape
of his neck, and shook him violently, exclaiming between his set teeth,
“You scoundrel! How dared you defile my _geta_ by sitting on them! You
have grossly insulted me behind my back! Villain, take that....”
Catching up one of the clogs which he had kicked off, he struck the
poor servitor a heavy blow between the eyes, which caused him to
reel stunned and bleeding to the ground. Then hurling the companion
_geta_ at his prostrate victim, he strode proudly back to the castle,
barefooted, for he was in too great a rage to wait until another
pair of _geta_ could be brought.
No one stayed to look after Heishiro. None cared what became of him.
For some time he lay as he had fallen, but presently the cold brought
him back to consciousness, and he rose slowly and with difficulty to
his feet.
He picked up the _geta_ with which he had been struck, and with tears
mingling with the blood on his face gazed at it mournfully for a few
moments. Then, as the thought of his master’s injustice came over him,
he gnashed his teeth in impotent rage.
“Haughty brute, that you are, Masamuné,” he muttered, “you shall pay
for this! The bond between us as lord and vassal has snapped for ever.
I have been one of the most devoted of your humble servants, but now
I will never rest till I have had my revenge on you for this cruel
treatment!”
Then Heishiro again put the _geta_ into his bosom, though with how
different an intention from before, and descending the hill on the side
furthest from the castle, limped painfully away.
* * * * *
From that time forth the man had but one idea—to wreak condign
vengeance on the arrogant noble who had so abused his kindness.
But Masamuné was a daimio, though a poor one, while Heishiro was only
a serf. Assassination was impossible, Masamuné being always well
guarded even while he slept, besides possessing considerable bodily
strength himself. He must have recourse to other and subtler means. He
thought long and deeply. There were only two persons of higher rank
than the daimio who could affect his position at will—the Emperor and
the Shogun. But how could a man of Heishiro’s standing gain the ear of
either of these two illustrious personages so as to slander Masamuné
and influence them against him? The very idea was absurd! True, it was
a warlike age and promotion speedily followed the achievement of a
deed of valor; with a spear in his hand and a good horse under him one
might rise to almost any height. But Heishiro was no soldier and his
physical strength was small. With a sigh he admitted to himself that
the accomplishment of his purpose did not lie that way.
And then a happy thought struck him. He remembered that any one, high
or low, great or small, could become a priest and that the prospects
held out in that profession were boundless. There was no distinction
to which a man of the lowliest parentage and the weakest body might
not aspire. A learned priest with a reputation for sanctity might get
access to Court—gain the notice of the Emperor himself!
That was it!
Heishiro resolved to turn priest, and with this in view made all haste
to Kyoto, where he entered the Temple of Ungoji in Higashiyama as an
acolyte.
But the career of an acolyte is none of the easiest. Before he can
be received into the priesthood he must go through all forms of
asceticism, self-denial, and penance. Furthermore, he has to serve his
superiors as a drudge, doing the most menial tasks at their command.
Heishiro had a very hard time of it. A man of ordinary perseverance
might have succumbed and given up. Not so Heishiro. Not for a moment
did he dream of abandoning his self-imposed task. He was determined as
long as there was life in him to endure every hardship and humiliation,
so that eventually he might attain his end. Still he was but human, and
there were times when his weary body almost gave way and his spirit
flagged. His racked nerves seemed as if they could bear no more. At
such times he would look in a mirror at the reflection of the deep
scar on his brow, and draw from its place of concealment the odd garden
_geta_, saying to himself, “Courage! Remember Masamuné! Your work is
not done yet.”
Then strength and calmness would return and he once more felt equal to
labour and endure.
* * * * *
Little by little Heishiro rose in the favour of his superiors, and his
learning showed marked progress. At length, he thought he might get on
faster if he went to another monastery, and the Temple of Enryakuji on
Mt. Hiei being the largest and most renowned of all places of sacred
teaching in Japan, he applied there for admission and was readily
admitted.
Twenty years later, Jōben, for that was the name Heishiro took on
entering the priesthood, was known far and near for his erudition and
strict application to all observances of a life of the most austere
piety. But he was not satisfied. He was still very far from being in
a position to attract the notice of the Emperor. Yet higher must he
climb. To be world-famous was his aim.
So he made up his mind to go over to China, justly regarded as the
fountain-head of all knowledge and wisdom. All she could impart of the
Buddhistic faith he would acquire. As soon as an opportunity offered
Jōben sailed from his native shores and found himself among a strange
people. Here he remained ten years. During that time he visited many
famous temples and gathered wisdom from many sources. At last the
fame of the traveller reached the ear of the Chinese Emperor, who was
pleased to grant him an audience, and graciously bestowed on him a new
sacerdotal name, that of Issan-Kasho-Daizenji. Thus it came about that
Jōben left his country acknowledged, indeed to be a wise and holy man,
but he came back to be regarded as the foremost divine in Japan.
After his return Issan-Kasho-Daizenji stayed at Ungo-ji, the temple
in Kyoto where he had entered on his noviciate. He had heard nothing
of Masamuné for some years and was anxious to learn what had become
of him. He was unpleasantly surprised to hear that the object of his
hatred had also risen in the world, and that now as lord of the Castle
of Sendai he was considered one of the most important men of the
day. Not only did he hold a high office at Court, but as the head of
the North-Eastern daimios, even the Shogun had to treat him with
respect. All this was annoying if nothing worse. The Zenji saw that he
would have to bide his time, and act warily. A false move now might
render futile all his long years of travail.
But after all he did not have to wait very long.
The Emperor was taken ill and his malady was of so serious a nature
that the skill of the wisest physicians proved of no avail. The highest
officials of the Imperial Household met in solemn conclave to discuss
the matter and it was decided that earthly means being vain the only
hope lay in an appeal to Heaven.
Who was the priest of character so stainless, of wisdom so profound
that he might be entrusted with this high mission?
One name rose to all lips—“Issan-Kasho-Daizenji!”
With all speed, therefore, the holy man was summoned to the Palace and
ordered to pray his hardest to the Heavenly Powers for the restoration
to health of the Imperial patient.
For seven days and seven nights the Zenji isolated himself from all
mankind in the Hall of the Blue Dragon. For seven days and seven nights
he fasted, and prayed that the precious life might be spared. And his
prayers were heard. At the end of that time the Emperor took a turn for
the better, and so rapid was his recovery that in a very short time all
cause of anxiety about him was over.
His Majesty’s gratitude knew no bounds. The Zenji was honoured with
many marks of the Imperial regard, and as a consequence, all the
ministers and courtiers vied with each other in obsequiousness to the
favourite of the Emperor. He was appointed Head of the Ungoji Temple,
and received yet another name, Ungo-Daizenji.
“The attainment of my desire is now within reach!” thought the priest
exultantly. “It only remains to find a plausible pretext for accusing
Masamuné of high treason.”
But more than thirty years had elapsed since Makabé Heishiro, the lowly
sandal-bearer, had vowed vengeance on the daimio Daté Masamuné, and
not without effect had been his delving into holy scriptures, his long
vigils, his life of asceticism and meditation. Heishiro had become
Ungo-Daizenji, a great priest. His character had undergone a radical
change, though he had not suspected it. His mind had been purified
and was now incapable of harbouring so mean and paltry a feeling as a
desire for revenge. Now that the power was in his grasp he no longer
cared to exercise it.
“To hate, or to try to injure a fellow-creature is below one who has
entered the priesthood,” he said to himself. “The winds of passion
disturb only those who move about the maze of the secular world. When a
man’s spiritual eyes are opened, neither east nor west, neither north
nor south exists—such things are but illusions. I have nursed a grudge
against Lord Daté for over thirty years, and with the sole object of
revenge before my eyes have raised myself to my present position.
But if Lord Daté had not ill-treated me on a certain occasion, what
would my life have been? I should, probably, have remained Heishiro,
the sandal-bearer, all my days. But my lord had the unkindness to
strike me with a garden _geta_ without troubling himself to find out
whether I deserved such chastisement. I was roused to anger and vowed
to be revenged. Because of my resolve to punish him I turned priest,
studied hard, endured privations, and so, at length, have become
one of the most influential priests in the Empire, before whom even
princes and nobles bow with reverence. If I look at the matter in its
true light it is to Lord Daté that I owe everything. In olden times
Sakya Muni, turning his back upon earthly glory, climbed Mt. Dantoku
and there served his noviciate with St. Arara. Prince though he
was, he performed all menial offices for his master, who if ever the
disciple seemed negligent, would beat him with a cane. ‘How mortifying
it is,’ thought the Royal neophyte, ‘that I, born to a throne, should
be treated thus by one so far beneath me in rank,’ But Sakya Muni was
a man of indomitable spirit. The more humiliations he had to suffer
the more earnestly did he apply himself to his religious studies, so
that, at the early age of thirty he had learnt all his teacher could
impart, and himself began to teach, introducing to the world one of
the greatest religions it has ever known. It may truthfully be said
that Sakya’s success was largely, if not wholly, due to that stern
and relentless master who allowed no shirking of his work. Far be it
from me to institute any comparison between my humble self and the
holy Founder of Buddhism, but, nevertheless, I cannot deny the fact
that the pavilion in the grounds of Osaki Castle was my Mt. Dantoku,
and this old garden _geta_ my St. Arara’s cane. Therefore it should be
gratitude, not revenge, that I have in my heart for Masamuné, for it
was his unconsidered act that laid the foundation of my prosperity.”
Thus the good priest relinquished his long cherished idea of
vengeance, and a better feeling took its place. He now looked upon
the blood-stained _geta_ with reverence, offering flowers and burning
incense before it, while day and night he prayed fervently for the long
life and happiness of his old master, Lord Daté Masamuné.
* * * * *
And Masamuné himself?
As stated above he attained great honours and became a leading man in
the councils of his country. But at the age of sixty-three he tired of
public life and retired to pass the evening of his days at his Castle
of Sendai. Here, to employ his leisure, he set about the restoration of
the well-known temple of Zuiganji, at Matsushima, in the vicinity of
the castle, which during a long period of civil strife had fallen into
decay, being in fact a complete ruin. Masamuné took it upon himself to
restore the building to its former rich splendor, and then when all was
done looked about for a priest of deep learning and acknowledged virtue
who should be worthy to be placed in charge of it.