A MURAMASA BLADE
[Illustration]
A
MURAMASA BLADE
A Story of Feudalism in Old Japan
BY
LOUIS WERTHEIMBER
“THE SWORD IS THE SOUL OF THE SAMURAI”
[Illustration]
BOSTON
TICKNOR AND COMPANY
1887
_Copyright, 1886_,
BY LOUIS WERTHEIMBER.
_All rights reserved._
University Press:
JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE.
TO
MY DEARLY BELOVED SISTER EMILIE
In Brotherly Affection
_THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED_
BY THE AUTHOR
PREFACE.
This story is an original tale of Old Japan, written almost from a
Japanese point of view. It might be translated into that language; and,
rendered in book form or told on a street corner by one of the itinerant
story-tellers, the reader or listener would think it to accord fully
with the traditions of the period in which it is supposed to have been
enacted. Whether such a treatment will meet with approval here, it
remains for the public to say. I have adhered to it against the advice
of several eminent literary friends, to bring the story more into accord
with our canons of style and construction. From the standpoint of a
Japanese, none of the incidents or situations are in the slightest degree
strained or exaggerated, and none of the characters overdrawn. All the
historical allusions are strictly true and authentic,—as far as present
knowledge on the subject goes,—and have been carefully and painstakingly
culled from native chronicles.
The five engravings on copper have been executed by a young Japanese, Mr.
Nakamura Munehiro, of Tokio, one of the best engravers in Japan, who also
made the original drawings for the same. The other pictures were drawn by
Shirayama Dani, a young porcelain painter in the employ of Fujiyama, of
this city. It shows the versatility of Japanese artists, that although
the young man had never in his life done anything but porcelain painting,
which is done in pure wash, he succeeded without instruction, in a very
few days, in making pictures for reproduction. In spite of their sharp
outline they are done not with pen and ink, but with a Japanese brush.
LOUIS WERTHEIMBER.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
ETCHINGS ON COPPER.
MURAMASA INVOKING THE BLESSING OF THE GODS ON A NEWLY
FORGED SWORD _Frontispiece_
MURAMASA AND HIS SON AT THE FORGE 48
O TETSU 74
SENNOSKE SHOWING HIS SWORD TO HIS FATHER 92
THE DUKE RECEIVING SENNOSKE 176
RELIEF ENGRAVINGS.
JAPANESE TITLE _Facing English title_
THE OLD JINRIKISHA MAN AND HIS WIFE 3
JAPANESE SWORD 6
FARM LABORER 8
WOMAN SOWING RICE 9
MYTHOLOGICAL GODS OF JAPAN 12
THE DUKE’S ATTACK ON THE AMBASSADOR 15
STREET BOARD FOR GOVERNMENT EDICTS 18
EMPEROR OF JAPAN 19
EMPRESS OF JAPAN 23
SWORD-DAGGERS 25
SINGING GIRLS 26
THE DUKE RECEIVING MUTTO 29
SWORD ORNAMENTS 33
WRITING TABLE 35
STREET SCENE IN KUWANA 38
JAPANESE FISHES (TWO) 42
JAPANESE LANDSCAPE 45
AN ETA 47
SWORD-GUARD 49
LANDING-PLACE AT KUWANA 51
A RONIN 54
DESERTED BUILDINGS 57
O TETSU AND THE TWO BELDAMES 61
SWORD-GUARD 64
INKIO (RETIREMENT FROM WORLDLY AFFAIRS) 66
MALE AND FEMALE NAKŌDŌ (MARRIAGE NEGOTIATORS) 68
SENNOSKE AND HIS FATHER 71
SOSANOÔ MIKOTO, THE PATRON GOD OF SWORDS AND INVENTOR OF POETRY 73
YORITOMO LIBERATING A THOUSAND CRANES IN HONOR OF HIS VICTORIES 77
MAN IN ARMOR 79
PEASANT 85
SENNOSKE RECEIVING THE SWORD FROM THE SMITH 87
RESENTING AN INSULT 91
SADDLE, STIRRUP, AND SADDLE-CLOTH 96
SENNOSKE IN BATTLE 99
SEEING A DISGUISED HŌJŌ SPY IN NITTA’S CAMP 102
NITTA PRAYING TO THE GODS BEFORE THROWING HIS SWORD INTO THE SEA 105
SCENE AT THE STORMING OF KAMAKURA 107
SENNOSKE ON HIS RETURN 109
PILGRIMS TO FUJIYAMA 111
ROADSIDE TEA-HOUSE 112
FUJIYAMA, WITH ANGEL HOVERING OVER IT 113
COURT LADY’S HEAD-DRESS AND STATE FAN 115
YAMAGAWA DISCOVERING HIS MISTAKE 119
ROADSIDE HOTEL 124
BUDDHIST TEMPLE (MONK AND ACOLYTE) 127
YAMAGAWA COMMITTING SEPPUKU (HARA-KIRI) 129
ARROWS AND MILITARY HEAD-DRESS 132
SENDING A PRESENT 134
A KARO (CHIEF COUNSELLOR) 135
AN EXECUTION 138
A LORD ENTERING HIS NORI-MONO 140
ŌTŌ NO MIYA, THE MIKADO’S SON, IN HIS MOUNTAIN RETREAT WHEN
FLEEING FROM THE HŌJŌ 143
A PRISON 145
POSTAL COURIERS 147
STATE SWORD AND HEAD-DRESS 151
A FENCING MATCH 156
SENNOSKE FACING HIS ENEMIES 159
A FUNERAL 163
HELMET 167
NEWS OF THE ARRIVAL OF THE COURIER AT THE COURT 169
SERVING REFRESHMENTS 171
JAPANESE ROOM 173
MARRIAGE SCENE 178
FEMALE MUSICIANS 180
TAIL-PIECE (MASKS) 181
ORNAMENT 182
GATHERING TEA-LEAVES 183
YAMATO-DAKE NO MIKOTO, SEMI-DIVINITY OF WAR 184
MARSHAL’S BATON, WAR-FAN, AND HEAD-DRESS 188
[Illustration]
A MURAMASA BLADE.
INTRODUCTION.
One day in my wanderings in that quarter of the city of Tokio given up to
the habitation of the poorer classes of the community, I stopped to rest
for a moment at the lowly hut of an old _jinrikisha_ man whom I had had
frequent occasion to employ theretofore. Finding the old man and his wife
at home, I sat down on the porch, and after a while succeeded in drawing
the couple into something like conversation.
The hut which they occupied was poor enough. It stood on the edge of a
small sweet-potato field, and contained only two rooms, the floor of each
one covered by two mats of the usual size, and therefore exactly six
feet square. The extreme cleanliness of the place—although this quality
in general is common in Japan—struck me at once, in spite, or partly on
account, of the extreme poverty, which was equally evident. The sliding
paper-covered doors, which also served as windows, had been taken out,
and I could look through the house, which contained nothing in the way of
furniture, not even a pine cloth-chest such as is seldom lacking in the
poorest habitations,—nothing, in fact, except a few patched cotton quilts
which served for beds, bedding, and covering, rolled up in a corner. The
thick straw mats, although their outside covering was in part worn off
by use, showed not a speck of dirt or dust, and the bare upright timbers
were perfectly white from frequent washing and scrubbing.
Noticing on one side of the room an old sword hanging on two wooden pegs,
I asked to be allowed to look at it, and it was rather hesitatingly, as
I thought, handed to me. In former years only the _samurai_, or men of
gentle blood, were allowed to wear two swords, and always did so. They
esteemed this as their most prized prerogative, and guarded the privilege
with extreme jealousy as long as they enjoyed it, which was until the
Government prohibited the practice a few years ago. The mere possession
of a sword is now free to everybody, and many tens of thousands of these
weapons at present serve for fish and kitchen knives, or for other common
purposes.
Drawing this one from its wooden scabbard, I found it bright and shining;
and being an amateur collector, I could see that it was no ordinary blade.
“Who is the maker?” I asked, almost mechanically, as I usually did when
my Japanese friends favored me with a sight of their old family swords.
The answer came very slowly, and not until an inquiring glance showed
that I was surprised at not getting it sooner: “It is a Muramasa blade,
your honor.”
“A Muramasa!” I exclaimed, jumping up in genuine surprise; “and how in
the name of Buddha did _you_ manage to get hold of a Muramasa?”
[Illustration: THE OLD JINRIKISHA MAN AND HIS WIFE.]
My astonishment was natural. I had in the course of years succeeded in
making a collection of swords of the best makers; but it was only after
a long search, and at an expense which was felt to be considerable even
by an ardent amateur like myself, that I had been able to acquire an
undoubted and genuine piece of handiwork of the artisan who, with the
single exception perhaps of Masamune, was certainly the most celebrated
sword-smith of Japan.
“It has been in the possession of my family, your honor, for five
centuries and a half,—ever since it was given by the maker who forged it,
Senjuin Muramasa, to one of my ancestors at Ise, the place where they
both resided.”
The man’s voice, although, as heretofore, humbly polite in its manner,
had now a new ring,—something like a tone of cold formality; such a tone,
it seemed to me, as might have characterized the voice of a polished
Greek slave replying to some coarse word of his brutal Roman master.
There was a pause of a few moments, which the thought of my abrupt
rudeness rendered awkward and even painful to me. I was the first to
break the silence, addressing him in the language which is used among
equals, instead of, as heretofore, employing such terms as are used to
inferiors,—a distinction which in Japanese is strongly and definitely
marked. I could see by a quick, startled movement, as well as by the play
of his features, that the change was deeply felt, and the motive which
prompted it appreciated. “I have for years been a student of sword-lore,”
I said, “and I know that every Muramasa blade has a history of its own,
fraught with numerous romantic and thrilling incidents. This one here
must have had its share, with which, under the circumstances, you are
doubtless familiar; and I should esteem it a great favor to be permitted
to listen to any narrative you may choose to recall, more especially as
regards the time when the smith was yet alive.”
I had touched a sympathetic chord in the old man’s heart by this
concession alike to his family pride and his love for the sword. It is
not easy for a foreigner to understand how completely the sword has
entered into Japanese life. Poets and minstrels, warriors and statesmen,
lord and vassal, have honored it in word and deed for more than a
millennium. To a greater extent than any other agent, probably, it has
moulded and shaped the history of that country into its setting of
gallant chivalry and self-immolating feudal devotedness, and has written
its record on thousands of well-contested battle-fields, in the quivering
body of a living book. Only within a few years has it begun to outlive
its power; but its renown is imperishable.
The story told by this poor _jinrikisha_ man, as we sat on the porch
of his humble dwelling, constitutes but one simple chapter in this
wonderful history. It illustrates the spirit which pervaded Old Japan,
the veneration which attached to the sword, and the peculiar personal
obligations of honor which rested upon all samurai in those feudal times.
As the story was related to me, so I tell it here, regretting only that
in the process of translation it must lose much of local color and
characterization, but hoping that in spite of this it may be found to
possess an interest purely its own, independent of the way in which it is
now narrated.
[Illustration: JAPANESE SWORD.]
CHAPTER I.
It was in the year of our Lord 1322, according to the Japanese calendar
the fourth year of the reign of Go Dai Go Tenno, the ninety-fifth
descendant of Jimmu Tenno, and nineteen hundred and eighty-two years from
the time when the latter had assumed the title of the “First Emperor of
Japan.”
[Illustration: FARM LABORER.]
For the first time in its history a general peace, lasting for more than
a century, reigned over the land. Guerilla and border warfare, it is
true, was still carried on, in a desultory manner, in different parts of
the empire; feuds between the daimio of neighboring provinces were no
rarities; and the _kataki-uchi_, the Japanese vendetta, still caused many
bloody tragedies to be enacted, and year after year claimed its thousands
of victims. All such disturbances, however, originating in private
jealousy and personal enmity, had during this period been merely local,
without expanding sufficiently to assume a national character, as in
former centuries, when one half of the fighting population was constantly
at war with the other. During a hundred and two years no organized revolt
against the authority of the Shôgun, or rather against the Ilōjō family,
who were the real rulers, had occurred. The administration of the latter,
both civil and military, was, it is true, excellent in most regards,—a
fact which not even their enemies could gainsay. The success with which
they had repelled the invasion of the Tartar force sent by Kublai Khan,
with its countless ships and its tens of thousands of warriors, showed
them to be brave and skilled in war, while the general prosperity of the
empire gave ample evidence both of their knowledge of the country’s needs
and of their ability to enforce those measures by which the arts of peace
are made to flourish. Farmers tilled their lands free from the harrowing
care which beset their forefathers as to whether they would be able to
enjoy the fruits of their labor, or whether roving bands would seize the
garnered harvest and even force the young and strong to become unwilling
recruits among the henchmen and servants attending the feudal chiefs. The
advance in commerce, art, and more especially in learning and the polite
accomplishments, had been extraordinary, and their regenerating influence
had gradually made itself felt in all parts of the empire. Plenty and
apparent security reigned everywhere; and yet it was felt and known by
those who cared to think and who took notice of passing events, that the
end of this period of tranquillity was inevitable, and moreover even
now near at hand. Every coming day might see the smouldering embers of
discontent, hitherto concealed, blaze forth into a fierce and destructive
civil war.
[Illustration: WOMAN SOWING RICE.]
One of the surest signs of the trouble impending was the increased
military activity displayed at the court of every daimio. The coming
conflict cast its shadow before, not in boisterous speech or loud-mouthed
denunciation, but in the training of body and limb to be duly prepared
for action requiring physical strength and endurance. Horses were made to
learn their paces, swords and lances were sharpened, buckler and shield
were burnished, and every armorer’s workshop echoed the sounds of toil
from early morning until late at night.
Kuwana, the capital of the province of Ise, could at this period boast of
one of the gayest and yet most martial courts in the land. The character
of the reigning Duke, who had ruled for more than thirty-six years, was
such that although courage, daring, and manly accomplishments could well
look for their due meed of reward at his hands, deeds of unjustifiable
violence and ill-will found no opportunity to interfere with or check the
progress and prosperity of the land.
He was now fifty-five years old, and had become stout and fleshy and—for
he loved the wine-cup no less than the sword—gouty as well, and he
was frequently obliged to be carried to his pavilion on the field to
witness sports in which, not so very long before, he used to participate
and shine in a way that few could equal. Traces of his former prowess
were still evident in his face and bearing, despite his corpulence and
bodily helplessness. There was about him a self-possession, or rather a
self-assertion, of manner which appertains only to those who have learned
to maintain themselves and their rights in positions of importance and
difficulty; and to do this in those times required physical strength as
well as qualities of the mind which go to make up leaders of men. His
bright, fierce eye followed closely and with evident enjoyment every
motion of those among the actors who showed more than ordinary skill;
and when any unusually daring feat was performed, his hands and arms
worked convulsively, and he swayed himself to and fro as if to assist
with his body where only his eyes could take part.
Ono ga Sawa, as the Duke was called, was feared and held in awe by
his neighbors, who in the desultory border warfare in which they had
sometimes been engaged, had found that his dare-devil courage was
equalled by his astuteness, his energy, and his extraordinary tenacity.
By the people of his province, and more especially by his retainers, to
whom he was a kind and considerate master, he was honored and respected.
He loved boldness and valor, and even in speech he encouraged frankness
and openness to a degree rare with those in his position. Of a jovial and
good-natured disposition withal, he ever approved of mirth and frolic,
and often at the dinner-table bandied jokes with his attendants, and
would even bear from those he liked a return in kind.
[Illustration: MYTHOLOGICAL GODS OF JAPAN.]
There was only one point upon which it would have been injudicious to
speak with freedom in his presence. The old lord had a great veneration
for family and gentle birth, for blue blood and for the superiority to
which the possession of a long line of ancestors could justly lay claim.
He was fond of displaying his genealogical tree, showing his descent
from Nakatomi no Kamatari, the celebrated minister of Tenchi Tenno in
the seventh century, who himself was a descendant of the royal house of
Fujiwara. When excited by wine he did not stop there, but would count
back to Jimmu Tenno, the first Emperor of Japan, two thousand years ago;
and he was even known at such times to refer to Isanami no Mikoto and
Isanagi no Mikoto, the primeval mythological gods of the country, in a
way which seemed to show plainly that he considered himself as standing
in some sort of relationship with them. Now there was not a scullion in
the kitchen, nor a sandal-bearer in the courtyard, who did not indulge
in jokes at this propensity; for they all knew that the old gentleman’s
grandfather was a common peasant, who in the wars which followed the
accession of the Minamoto family to the Shôgunate, when he was pressed as
a soldier, had by personal bravery and native force of character raised
himself to the position of a military general. His son, the father of
the present lord, had in his early youth been apprentice to a dyer, and
from thence had been called to the camp of his parent when the latter
began to acquire military glory. But the bravest of the brave military
retainers at the court would sooner have faced unarmed a wild boar than
breathe a word of doubt or even show a look of incredulity when, as so
often happened, the old genealogical tree was taken down and explained
to them. Etiquette at that time was not what it became much later,—an
element of such importance in the education of every _samurai_ as to curb
temporarily the fiercest temper and force the most headstrong passions
to subordinate themselves to time and place. The long reign of peace had
its softening influence; yet, although threatening talk and angry looks
were not as likely as before to lead to immediate violence, they were
strangers neither at the festive board nor in the council-hall. An utter
disregard, however, for all rules of society as they existed even then,
and a reckless fashion of indulging his passions when aroused, made Ono
ga Sawa a man to be carefully humored by his attendants.
An incident which had happened ten years previously was still fresh in
the memory of every one. An embassy had arrived from the province of
Sendai to arrange a marriage between the son of the lord of that province
and a daughter of Ono ga Sawa. All the preliminaries had been concluded,
and a grand festival and banquet were being given in honor of the
occasion. Toward the end of the carouse, when wine had loosened tongues
and conversation had become general, the chief ambassador, perhaps in
ignorance or inadvertence, but more probably from a desire to check the
feeling of pride with which he had so often been received, essayed a joke
about the silk which faced the dress of his host. “You must be a good
judge of dyeing, and perhaps have a special receipt handed down to you,
to give that ribbon such a rich, deep purple color,” he began; but if he
had intended to say more, the general silence which followed this remark
caused him to refrain. The sudden cessation of all mirth and conversation
struck those present as with a chill, and the laughing faces of a moment
before now showed only anxious looks furtively directed toward their lord.
Ono ga Sawa’s face, though flushed with wine, became overspread with
a deadly pallor. The silence of his followers not only prevented him
from overlooking a remark which in cooler moments he might perhaps have
disregarded, but gave it undue prominence. Before the assembled guests
had twice drawn breath he had unsheathed his small sword and aimed a
desperate blow at the ambassador. The excess of his fury, rather than a
natural shrinking away on the part of his intended victim, caused the
weapon to miscarry, only slightly grazing the other’s skin and drawing
a few drops of blood; but this was sufficient to enable him to regain
his self-control. Those composing the ambassador’s suite had risen with
muttered threats and placed themselves behind their chief; while the
Kuwana men, who formed the large majority, also rose and surrounded their
lord. The latter, however, now perfectly calm, with one glance caused his
retainers to resume their stations. Slowly replacing his sword, to show
he meant no further violence, but only half sheathing it, and keeping it
firmly grasped, he said: “The only kind of dyeing I understand is dyeing
with blood; those spots upon your doublet now show the same color as
my ribbon,—the color of blood, the color I love to see whenever honor
demands it.”
[Illustration: THE DUKE’S ATTACK ON THE AMBASSADOR.]
In saying this, his meaning was not to be misunderstood. He showed
himself ready to stand by the consequences of his act; yet there was
a certain half-conciliatory tone and manner about him of which the
other thought best to avail himself. He knew that if the failure of the
important mission with which he was intrusted could be attributed to his
own lack of discretion—to which in this instance it might be ascribed,
although the provocation he had given was certainly a slight one—it would
end in his own disgrace with his lord. So, quickly collecting himself,
with a laugh as natural as he could simulate, he replied: “You have
certainly given us a good practical illustration of what you call your
style of dyeing, and if you intended it as a lesson, I will accept it as
such from you; although there are very few lords in this kingdom for whom
it would be safe or advisable to attempt a similar course of teaching
with me.”
[Illustration: STREET BOARD FOR GOVERNMENT EDICTS.]
Physical courage in those days was a common virtue, and that of the
envoy was too well known to be doubted; his course in ignoring the rash
act prompted by the other’s ungovernable temper only raised him in the
opinion of every one present, including Ono ga Sawa himself. It was
probably the only period in the history of Japan when such an occurrence
could have taken place without entailing more serious consequences.
During the long civil wars which were soon to follow, peaceful solutions
of any difficulty were again out of the question; and after that time
the observance of etiquette was made so imperative that such a breach
of it as had been here committed by Ono ga Sawa would have demanded
redress by law, and would have subjected its perpetrator to severe
punishment by the court of the Shôgun. On the other hand, up to a hundred
years previous, when fighting was the rule all over the land to the
exclusion of everything else, such a course as had been here taken by
the ambassador would certainly not have been appreciated; it would have
been utterly opposed to the spirit of an age which acknowledged no other
honorable means of redress than an appeal to arms, and which did not
permit any qualification as to time and place, but demanded instant and
unhesitating action, even if self-destruction was the certain result.
[Illustration: EMPEROR OF JAPAN.]
But the last hundred years had wrought a considerable change. Nominally
the profession of arms was still the only one a gentleman could engage
in; but literature, art, and the polite accomplishments had begun to
claim a fair share of attention. The strong government of the Hōjō
at Kamakura had improved laws and regulations and caused them to be
respected, thus imbuing the rising generation with a sense of order
and obedience to which their forefathers had been strangers. It was a
salutary discipline, which naturally found its counterpart in a certain
self-restraint introduced into the social relations of life, into
the intercourse between man and man. Every _samurai_ was still ready
and eager to serve actively as a soldier; but in the absence of such
opportunities he tried to show his aptitude for other pursuits. Many
descendants of the royal house of Fujiwara more especially distinguished
themselves in civil employment.
The centre of the whole movement—from whence, indeed, it derived its
principal support—was the Mikado’s court at Kiyoto. Soon after the close
of the great struggle which saw the Minamoto family firmly established
as Shôguns, the songs of the high priest Tiun, son of the Kuwambaku
Tadamichi, first officer in the above court, had taken a powerful hold
on the public mind. As early as the year 1232 the issuing and editing
of a full and complete edition of all the valuable lyric and heroic
poetry then extant had been intrusted to Fujiwara no Sada by the Mikado
himself. In the succeeding reign the brother of the governing Emperor,
the high priest Yen Man In,—a man equally noted for erudition, for
courtly manners, and for the charm of his conversation, who, although
ordained for the church, exercised, by his talent for government, supreme
influence at the court,—greatly quickened the advancement of learning, of
letters, and of the polite accomplishments.
By the middle of the century the intellectual current had filtered
into and permeated the purely military court at Kamakura, where the
reigning Shôgun had called upon Kiyowara, a celebrated sage, to review
and explain to him the well-known Chinese work _Tei Wan_ (or “Guide for
the Conduct of Rulers and Sovereigns”), and Tokiyori, lord of Sagami,
his first minister,—a man of the type of Yen Man In, who by mere force
of character and capacity was the virtual ruler of the Shôgun’s court,
as much as the other was at the imperial court,—himself copied and
commented upon the work _Tei Kuwan Sei Yo_ (“Study of the Principles
of Politics”), publishing it in his own name. In the beginning of the
fourteenth century the effects of this regeneration had made themselves
felt more or less in every part of Japan, and although military prowess
was held in as high esteem as ever, its value was greatly enhanced if
added to it was some degree of polite learning, dignity, and courtliness
of manner. Ono ga Sawa himself attached great value to these latter
qualities, and the action of the lord of Sendai’s ambassador in ignoring
and adroitly turning into a sort of joke what would certainly not have
tended to the other’s credit if treated in earnest, caused him a feeling
of satisfaction which he was generous enough not to conceal. The mission
was a complete success, an early consummation of the marriage was agreed
upon, and the ambassador on his return was loaded with presents.
[Illustration: EMPRESS OF JAPAN.]
It may well be imagined that those whose duty called them to the court
avoided, even in the lightest of humors engendered by the wine-cup, a
subject fraught with so much danger. It was not a great hardship to do
this where so much to pass the time pleasantly and agreeably offered
itself. Amusements and festivities were not wanting, the province was
well governed, the harvests for years had been good, the hand of the
tax-collector lay lightly upon peasant and citizen alike; and a plentiful
crop having again been garnered in the year of which we write, the usual
harvest festival, with its attendant games and military exercises, was
about to be celebrated on even a grander scale than usual.
[Illustration: SWORD DAGGERS.]