Momentarily, at the mention of Ieyasu's love, Yodogima brightened;
something moved her to a kindlier remembrance of the man who had so
often defeated his own intended purpose, seemingly with the sheerest
kind of stupid neglect. That he had once loved her there could be no
doubt, but the possibility of his having reencouraged that love now grew
the remoter, in her estimation, with each attempted move on his part to
set aside, as presumable, an established, developing progression.
A regime, however, that invited, till fixed and consolidated, every
upstart in the empire to try for individual ascendency--a privilege the
taiko would not have denied any; he loved too well the pleasure of
crushing them. Yodogima would have so marshaled her forces that none
could disturb, but all might rise in one united, orderly and elastic
trend toward a goal commonly beckoning back for the best that God had
given man. She had tested this Ieyasu from a standpoint none other had
been privileged, had found out long ago Oyea's temper, if not her
purpose, and could not now, in face of the circumstances, bring herself
to believe that she, a mother; Hideyori, her kind; the nation, at large;
or an ideal, that she had conceived, could endure the vagaries of a man
so attuned and advised as Ieyasu had proven himself, whatever the
sentiment.
"Ishida," she surmised, "will do only his part; every man is born unto
some righteous purpose."
The messenger awaited her pleasure.
"Comfort Maeda with the intelligence that I shall come forthwith,"
replied the princess.
Ishida met her at the door:
"You are too late, Yodogima! Maeda is dead."
Ieyasu stood by, and with Ishida's addressing the princess so
familiarly a flush at first reddened his face, then a cold pallor
revealed the blow finding lodgement in his heart.
Nor had Ishida's words roused in her lesser feelings; more certainly of
contempt. She had, perhaps, at a fatal moment, unduly sacrificed her
bearing toward him, but she had judged him not manly, yet wiser than to
endanger himself by resolving a license granted, into an indiscretion,
possibly fatal to both alike.
"You apparently take an undue advantage, Ishida; please explain
yourself," commanded the princess.
Ishida only laughed, whereat Yodogima turned crimson.
"Perhaps deeds better than words might compose your ladyship. Suppose I
name Harunaga; his guardianship, over this boy Hideyori, should prove to
be no less willingly bestowed than agreeably acceptable. What say you,
Ieyasu; I understand that your word, whatever the opinion, is of great
weight, in some quarters, about matters domestic, if not marriages
politic. Come, craven; out with it, before I shall have proven Harunaga
innocent by chopping your head off."
"Cur," snapped Ieyasu, whipping out his sword; "Kitagira shall be
guardian of Hideyori; I name him."
"You are a coward, and an impossibility," shouted Ishida, drawing to
fight.
Yodogima forcibly threw herself between them: why, she did not know;
instinctively she believed Ishida, the civilian, no match for Ieyasu, a
veteran of many battles. Neither one of them would harm her, and their
eyes gleamed the deadlier in consequence. Konishi alone separated them,
though by so doing, he, too, gained an enmity that finally drove him
irrevocably into the camp of Ishida.
The captains had seen Yodogima, the favorite of Hideyoshi and the mother
of Hideyori, disgraced, and they as willingly held Ishida at fault; his
apparently strange and rapid growth in favor, if not as suitor, at Ozaka
had roused their jealousies; the mysterious death of Maeda, which none
could attribute more to Ishida than to Ieyasu, both alike detractors as
well as usurpers, now, in consequence of Yodogima's apparent
shielding--knowing, as they believed she must know, the one's utter
inequality--suddenly attached itself to the former; Ishida had become
intolerable, for withal Ieyasu's faults, a samurai as against a
civilian should be condoned unto treachery--they swore, then, and there,
to take the life of Ishida.
And Yodogima vowed, to herself, that they should not; she had a reason:
Ieyasu may or may not have had, for on the spur of the moment he
considered it expedient or wise to hurry from the scene, hiding himself
away in a yakata (small house) near the palace at Fushima.
There Ishida found him, as with hearing about the captains'
determination to put an end to him, the lovesick valet of former years
had thrown himself upon the mercies of none other than a master's widow.
"Accept me, Yodogima," begged he; "I am your true lover, and will die
for you."
"You mean, 'but for me,'" suggested she, coldly. Now I do not wish you
death, nor shall I marry you: I could not, as yet--I might say, for
laughing; but, if you do as I direct, I will see you safely from here.
Use this disguise, and reaching Fushima forthwith subject yourself to
the good will of Ieyasu; he may protect you, but if you cannot hold
your tongue I should advise rather that you trust the captains; they are
less apt to procrastinate."
Donning thus the guise of a bonze--he had, at all events, professed
Christianity--Ishida made off toward Fushima fully determined to win the
hand of Yodogima, if not by valor, then with catering, for withal his
meanness he believed himself worth her while.
Meeting Ieyasu at Bungo bashi (bridge), Ishida kneeled and craved his
pardon. Ieyasu granted it; he had sooner heard from Yodogima, at the
hand of a messenger, one of the captains, Honda Masanobu, advising him:
upon recalling a previous conversation:
"I, too, have been considering whether it were best to let the captains
make way with Ishida or to save him for further use."
"Whose use," inquired Masanobu; "your own, or--"
"As you think, friend Masanobu," replied Ieyasu, in the twinkling of an
eye.
Thence Masanobu became a friend to Ieyasu, and of the seven captains
left by Hideyoshi, none was, however alienated, actively engaged
directly with advancing the interests of Hideyori. Those who had sworn
to take the life of Ishida now deemed it obligatory to cry umbrage at
Ieyasu's saving him: between the two of them, Ishida and Ieyasu, they
all, but Kuroda (who continued to remain absent) alike stood ready and
anxious to enter the ranks of the one or the other madly to avenge a
threatening wrong, on either side attributable to a common cause, an
assumably attempted infringement upon the rights and duties of the house
Hideyoshi had builded.
Each of them, Ishida and Ieyasu--the only ones whose ambitions
seemingly conflicted with hers--had sunk himself so deeply into the mire
that no rescue save a conflict could eradicate the danger of an after
consequence, and Yodogima quietly seated herself, there, in Ozaka,
apparently independent and alone, upon a throne, perhaps builded by
herself and unthought of by the taiko or those sworn to do him justice,
ready to give and to take, frown or smile, as occasion required and
fortune betokened: and she did as much, and more.
Ieyasu, refusing to listen to the captains, forthwith sent Ishida to
his keep at Sawayama. And that none might do him harm on the way, or
learn too much about his liberties and movements after there, he
afforded his own son, Hideyasu, and a goodly force, as well, for escort.
Thus licensed, Ishida lost no time in perfecting his plans--as
anticipated by Ieyasu, perchance encouraged by another still higher in
authority. Hideyasu and his troops, at all events, had as expeditiously
returned to Fushima, and no restraint of whatsoever kind hindered or
enlightened the supposed past-master now snugly domiciled at Sawayama.
Konishi, and others, including a portion of the captains, stood behind
Ishida; Takiyama, as many daimyos, and the remaining captains, supported
Ieyasu: thus Christianity had been split, and found itself uncharitably
enrolled, each side preparing to battle ostensibly for the same cause,
an avowed safeguarding of Hideyori's interests, but in reality the
preservation of an established religion, Buddhist or Shintoist,
whichever it were.
No one, however, so much as mentioned religion in connection with the
impending crisis; none professed to seek political mastery; social
conditions were apparently satisfactory, but the war fever spread and
the cry of everybody alike at once became, "Preserve the taiko's
government."
The princess verily laughed, and Ieyasu, Buddhist incarnate, withdrew
from the council and began concentrating his forces at Yedo. Ishida,
professing Christianity, mobilized around Sawayama, and their respective
forces stood nearly equal. Thence Yodogima, observant of every move,
uninfluenced by their claims or their charges, gathering and
neutralizing every malcontent, secure in her possessions and peaceably
inclined, quietly looked on and the nation applauded.
"You are a dear, sweet child, Hideyori, and your mother just worships
you, lives only for you and yours," whispered she, half to herself and
half to the snuggling, confiding boy; who had grown, already, into a
fine, dapper little chap, with the form and dash of a Taira.
The mother, like others, no doubt admired her son, but over and above
this motherly instinct there developed and ripened a determination to
live in him, to attain by and through him an ideality in keeping with
his lineage and their progression. Through her he had inherited the
manlier traits: sobriety and the colder forces of an harmonious
fellowship should come of a careful tutoring, such as none else than
Harunaga could give; he, installed, as personal instructor, immediately
Yodogima had compromised upon Kitagira's appointment for guardian, would
attend the pleasure only of a mother rightly judged, measure truly a
child's really inborn inheritance.
"How good it is to feel that one's energies are not directed aimlessly,"
cogitated she, drawing the child close in her arms. "I can now
understand what it is to love intelligently. Yes, with precision. The
primal instincts are only foundation stones upon which to rear a
superstructure in keeping with our destiny. A mother's love shorn of the
father's ambition resolves an anomaly. I must have verity."
"Will you be to him as a father should be to a child? Can you lay aside
personality, submerge self for the larger good, and make of this
Hideyori what birth and occasion demand?" inquired the princess, of
Harunaga, who at her invitation sat there, sullenly contemplating a
situation that only he and she could at all fathom in its deeper strata.
"Discipline has been my due, and confidence is your better prospect; if
you believe me more than human, then, and then only, can you trust me to
do what the world refuses; encourage others, at my own expense," replied
he, his eyes softening, with a love broader than Ishida's, more
comprehensive than Hideyoshi's ever had been.
The child gambolled upon the greensward. Embattlements here and there
echoed the voice of security. All around were things made and transient,
as at the inn where Hideyoshi had once shown himself to be a man. The
significance of authority now forged and welded chords of deeper
interest than the halo of righteousness had deigned to conjure absolute,
and Yodogima looked afar over all these things in the full consciousness
of having found a man whom she could trust. And she did trust him.
This man, invited and encouraged, had refused absolutely to take
advantage, and looking back over the past how could she class him no
higher than human? Manhood were more; it savored of paradise, and
Yodogima paused there, if but to refresh the soul and inspire its flight
toward a higher fate.
"No, Harunaga," promised she, after a moment's reflection, "I do not
trust anybody mortal, nor have I confidence in any thing unrealized; but
I understand you; and in knowledge, primarily, there lies a salvation.
Be sponsor, that my child is your concern."
Outside the ramparts, a savager duel engrossed the activities of
principals, seconds, and spectators alike. The fife and drum fired men
into heartier doings, but none measured so accurately as did Yodogima
the final consequence: were she to fall short in her estimate?
These were momentous deeds, of far-reaching effect; all around them were
civilizations and conditions bordering upon the speculative, but none
stood seemingly as balanced as their own; China had ages ago waded
through its materialism, and again lapped into spiritual inanimation;
India had impoverished itself with elaborate dogmas; Judea had lost its
nationality as a consequence of their religion; Greece and its
philosophy had fallen before the onslaught of a doctored creed; Rome had
exhausted herself in spreading that faith; the barbarous hosts of the
Northland, had, as yet, scarcely doffed the breach clot, and only Spain,
of these embryo nations, with her cruelties, impossible barbarities,
loomed large upon the Western horizon.
All these things threshed out, searched for and understood, before the
days of Yodogima, she believed that even they in their advanced position
might profit by maintaining some sort of intercourse with the outside
world; in fact, could not close their doors to other men, however low in
the scale of humanism, so long as the God ideal held fast in the human
heart.
"You are a Buddhist, Harunaga?" inquired the princess, after a pause.
"Yes, your ladyship."
"And knowledge is the foundation of that belief?"
"Yes, most honorable princess."
"Then, why does Ieyasu refuse enlightment; Christianity, like all
religions, is but a means to that end?"
"Because it is vicious, and the prince would be human," replied he,
argumentatively.
Yodogima hesitated; she were treading upon sacred grounds to answer, and
answer she would. The breath of a thousand, perhaps ten thousands, or
more, years floated in from a realized haven to fan the flame of
remembrance. This beauty land of theirs she knew, stretching far and
away, to the very limits of an empire--carved and wrought of material
perchance as crude and hopeful as any other now struggling as they once
did--stimulated within her breast a desire to extend a helping hand: the
cold dread of war, the cruel thirst for greed, the angry cry of, "On
with the battle," behind it all, underlying the activities out of which
their culture had grown, froze hard the blood in her veins.
Here were men blessed with plenty and endowed of godliness still
striking at each other; more artistically, and effectively, but none the
less cowardly for that.
"What mean these men by fighting so?" inquired she, searching deeper
than Harunaga had divined.
"To enforce a will," replied he, without any hesitation.
"To vindicate the soul?"
"Yes."
"Then it is not cowardly to use force, or its concomitant?"
"No."
"I did no wrong, if that is true, in visiting the temple," mused she,
unabatedly.
Harunaga flushed, then turned pale.
"Not at all, your ladyship," replied he, to her apparent satisfaction,
though he knew very well that Christianity had been the means of taking
her there.
"You are not pained, are you, Harunaga, at what I said?"
"How could I be, most honorable princess?"
"Then hereafter say, 'Yodogima'; I love to hear the name."
The personal note, whatever his predilection, touched Harunaga, as no
other had; from the days of his childhood, in the service of Shibata, in
far distant Kitanoshi, he had formed only the component part of a
machine. The breath of life touched him, accordingly, as none other had
done. Here lived a princess, possessing a mechanism most intricate,
suffering the discipline of enforced conditions, with all the
limitations, yet breathing the very spirit of humanitarianism. If such
as she could find a place in her heart for the flame that enlivens, why
not he grasp at a spark?
"I shall serve you, Yodogima, with all the vigor at my disposal,"
promised he, ready at last to lay his fortune where she had denied and
her father commanded.
"Then hark you, that none escape his mesh; these barons shall be taught
what it is to respect a woman."
And--at least two of them were apparently placing themselves in a
position rapidly to learn something of the cost as well.
Mori, of Hiroshima; Shimadzu, of Satsuma; Ukida, of Bizen, and some
thirty-five more of the eastern and central daimyos had already joined
the Ishida contingent in the vicinity of Ozaka, observably, and a
formidable host, larger than she or anybody else had anticipated, seemed
gathering under the banner of the one man, whom Yodogima down deep in
her heart detested, the very aspirant who had proffered a deadly cup and
coveted the hand of an intended victim's widow, the deceiver then
standing outside the walls of her own castle crying, "Long live
Hideyori," and, "Death to Ieyasu."
Ieyasu: the only man who had ever moved her! Others appealed to the
sense, to pride, and to consideration, even love of a kind, yet, as
events multiplied and the time grew shorter, a living realization
momentarily overshadowed every expectation of hers; the godlight again
shone brighter than ever.
Must she stop this cruelty? Yodogima asked and answered the question
till burdened of its thought--she could have ended it all, at least
temporarily, she believed--then gazed longingly at the child there in
her presence.
"What would you do, Hideyori, if set upon by angry wolves?" asked she,
of the child, playfully.
"Fight," responded he, with scarce another major word at his tongue's
use.
"I guess it's the nature of the beast," mused she, pressing the boy
closer up; "and till subdued there shall be need for gods as a God, so
let them at it."
The chances for success, however, against such odds--growing rapidly
with Ishida's popularity--seemed almost beyond the possibilities of one,
though as capable as Ieyasu, and--were he to win, Christianity must be
doomed; she understood full well his proclivities and surmised their
inevitable result. And Hideyori! Should Ishida win, then her own flesh
and blood must go the selfsame intended way that Hideyoshi had barely
escaped. She must, then, choose between two evils: the present downfall
of Christianity, on the one hand, or the destruction of an only living
child, and that, too, a son, on the other. An ideal at stake, with her,
who had chosen differently?
"You have my permission, Esyo, to visit this Hideki, now that Oyea, his
aunt, is dead and buried. But, mind you, it is a privilege only, that
your sister grants--perhaps for a better reason than the one you have in
mind."
Esyo sulked, but went nevertheless; her energies were bent not upon
completing the subversion of Hideki from Ishida to Ieyasu, as
contemplated by Oyea, to the last, and now, perchance, thought of,
favorably, by Yodogima, as an expedient, but toward a far more difficult
and deeper reaching task: the substitution of her own husband, Hidetada,
for Hideyasu, his elder brother, in favor with and as prospective
successor to Ieyasu, the father, whom she already believed in a fair
way to win and hold complete mastership, socially and politically, yet,
at heart, would not condescend to acknowledge a kindness at the hands of
an elder, though most patient and fore-bearing, sister.
"Please do not trouble yourself; I am not so easily read as Jokoin,
thank you; besides, it is unnecessary; I am quite capable, of doing as
much, without anybody's favor," snapped Esyo, hastily departing--none
too soon, however, to escape a danger that she little contemplated, yet
her sister had fully anticipated and well enough avoided.