As illustrating the religious faith of the age, it is noteworthy that

Momokawa, by way of promoting Prince Yamabe's interests, caused a

statue to be made in his likeness, and, enshrining it in the temple

Bonshaku-ji, ordered the priests to offer supplications in its

behalf. The chronicle further relates that after the deaths of the

Empress (Inokami) and her son (Osabe), Momokawa and Emperor Konin

were much troubled by the spirits of the deceased. That kind of

belief in the maleficent as well as in the beneficent powers of the

dead became very prevalent in later times. Momokawa died before the

accession of Kwammu, but to him was largely due the great influence

subsequently wielded by the Fujiwara at Court. It is on record that

Kwammu, speaking in after years to Momokawa's son, Otsugu, recalled

his father's memory with tears, and said that but for Momokawa he

would never have reigned over the empire.

The fact is that the Fujiwara were a natural outcome of the

situation. The Tang systems, which Kamatari, the great founder of the

family, had been chiefly instrumental in introducing, placed in the

hands of the sovereign powers much too extensive to be safely

entrusted to a monarch qualified only by heredity. Comprehending the

logic of their organization, the Chinese made their monarchs' tenure

of authority depend upon the verdict of the nation. But in Japan the

title to the crown being divinely bequeathed, there could be no

question of appeal to a popular tribunal. So long as men like Kotoku,

Tenchi, and Temmu occupied the throne, the Tang polity showed no

flagrant defects. But when the exercise of almost unlimited authority

fell into the hands of a religious fanatic like Shomu, or a

licentious lady like Koken, it became necessary either that the

principle of heredity should be set aside altogether, or that some

method of limited selection should be employed.

It was then that the Fujiwara became a species of electoral college,

not possessing, indeed, any recognized mandate from the nation, yet

acting in the nation's behalf to secure worthy occupants for the

throne. For a time this system worked satisfactorily, but ultimately

it inosculated itself with the views it was designed to nullify, and

the Fujiwara became flagrant abusers of the power handed down to

them. Momokawa's immediate followers were worthy to wear his mantle.

Tanetsugu, Korekimi, Tsugunawa--these are names that deserve to be

printed in letters of gold on the pages of Japan's annals. They

either prompted or presided over the reforms and retrenchments that

marked Kwammu's reign, and personal ambition was never allowed to

interfere with their duty to the State.

IMPERIAL PRINCES

Contemporaneously with the rise of the Fujiwara to the highest places

within reach of a subject, an important alteration took place in the

status of Imperial princes. There was no relation of cause and effect

between the two things, but in subsequent times events connected them

intimately. According to the Daika legislation, not only sons of

sovereigns but also their descendants to the fifth generation were

classed as members of the Imperial family and inherited the title of

"Prince" (0). Ranks (hon-i) were granted to them and they often

participated in the management of State affairs. But no salaries were

given to them; they had to support themselves with the proceeds of

sustenance fiefs. The Emperor Kwammu was the first to break away from

this time-honoured usage. He reduced two of his own sons, born of a

non-Imperial lady, from the Kwobetsu class to the Shimbetsu,

conferring on them the uji names of Nagaoka and Yoshimine, and he

followed the same course with several of the Imperial grandsons,

giving them the name of Taira.

Thenceforth, whenever a sovereign's offspring was numerous, it became

customary to group them with the subject class under a family name. A

prince thus reduced received the sixth official rank (roku-i), and

was appointed to a corresponding office in the capital or a province,

promotion following according to his ability and on successfully

passing the examination prescribed for Court officials. Nevertheless,

to be divested of the title of "Prince" did not mean less of princely

prestige. Such nobles were always primi inter pares. The principal

uji thus created were Nagaoka, Yoshimine, Ariwara, Taira, and

Minamoto.

THE TAIRA FAMILY

Prince Katsurabara was the fifth son of the Emperor Kwammu.

Intelligent, reserved, and a keen student, he is said to have

understood the warnings of history as clearly as its incentives. He

petitioned the Throne that the title of should be exchanged in his

children's case for that of Taira no Asomi (Marquis of Taira). This

request, though several times repeated, was not granted until the

time (889) of his grandson, Takamochi, who became the first Taira no

Asomi and governor of Kazusa province. He was the grandfather of

Masakado and great-grandfather of Tadamori, names celebrated in

Japanese history. For generations the Taira asomi were appointed

generals of the Imperial guards conjointly with the Minamoto, to be

presently spoken of. The name of Taira was conferred also on three

other sons of Kwammu, the Princes Mamta, Kaya, and Nakano, so that

there were four Tairahouses just as there were four Fujiwara.

THE MINAMOTO FAMILY

The Emperor Saga (810) had fifty children. From the sixth son

downwards they were grouped under the uji of Minamoto. All received

appointments to important offices. This precedent was even more

drastically followed in the days of the Emperor Seiwa (859-876). To

all his Majesty's sons, except the Crown Prince, the uji of Minamoto

was given. The best known among these early Minamoto was Tsunemoto,

commonly called Prince Rokuson. He was a grandson of the Emperor

Seiwa, celebrated for two very dissimilar attainments, which,

nevertheless, were often combined in Japan--the art of composing

couplets and the science of commanding troops. Appointed in the

Shohyo era (931-937) to be governor of Musashi, the metropolitan

province of modern Japan, his descendants constituted the principal

among fourteen Minamoto houses. They were called the Seiwa Genji, and

next in importance came the Saga Genji and the Murakami Genji.*

*That is to say, descended from the Emperor Murakami (947-967). Gen

is the Chinese sound of Minamoto and ji (jshi) represents uji. The

Minamoto are alluded to in history as either the Genji or the

Minamoto. Similarly, hei being the Chinese pronunciation of Taira,

the latter are indiscriminately spoken of Taira or Heike (ke =

house). Both names are often combined into Gen-pei.

UJI NO CHOJA AND GAKU-IN NO BETTO

The imperially descended uji spoken of above, each consisting of

several houses, were grouped according to their names, and each group

was under the supervision of a chief, called uji no choja or uji no

cho. Usually, as has been already stated, the corresponding position

in an ordinary uji was called uji no Kami and belonged to the

first-born of the principal house, irrespective of his official rank.

But in the case of the imperially descended uji, the chief was

selected and nominated by the sovereign with regard to his

administrative post. With the appointment was generally combined that

of Gaku-in no betto, or commissioner of the academies established for

the youths of the uji. The principal of these academies was the

Kwangaku-in of the Fujiwara. Founded by Fujiwara Fuyutsugu,

minister of the Left, in the year 821, and endowed with a substantial

part of his estate in order to afford educational advantages for the

poorer members of the great family, this institution rivalled even

the Imperial University, to be presently spoken of. It was under the

superintendence of a special commissioner (benkwari).

Next in importance was the Shogaku-in of the Minamoto, established by

Ariwara Yukihira in the year 881. Ariwara being a grandson of the

Emperor Saga, a member of the Saga Genji received the nomination of

chief commissioner; but in the year 1140, the minister of the Right,

Masasada, a member of the Murakami Genji, was appointed to the

office, and thenceforth it remained in the hands of that house. Two

other educational institutions were the Junna-in of the O-uji and the

Gakukwan-in of the Tachibana-iyt, the former dating from the year 834

and the latter from 820. It is not on record that there existed any

special school under Taira auspices.

AGRICULTURE

One of the principal duties of local governors from the time of the

Daika reforms was to encourage agriculture. A rescript issued by the

Empress Gensho in the year 715 declared that to enrich the people was

to make the country prosperous, and went on to condemn the practice

of devoting attention to rice culture only and neglecting upland

crops, so that, in the event of a failure of the former, the latter

did not constitute a substitute. It was therefore ordered that barley

and millet should be assiduously grown, and each farmer was required

to lay down two tan (2/3 acre) annually of these upland cereals.

Repeated proclamations during the eighth century bear witness to

official solicitude in this matter, and in 723 there is recorded a

distribution of two koku (nearly ten bushels) of seeds, ten feet of

cotton cloth, and a hoe (kuwa) to each agriculturist throughout the

empire. Such largesse suggests a colossal operation, but, in fact, it

meant little more than the remission of about a year's taxes.

Necessarily, as the population increased, corresponding extension of

the cultivated area became desirable, and already, in the year 722, a

work of reclamation on a grand scale was officially undertaken by

organizing a body of peasants and sending them to bring under culture

a million cho (two and a half million acres) of new land. This

interesting measure is recorded without any details whatever.

Private initiative was also liberally encouraged. An Imperial

rescript promised that any farmer harvesting three thousand koku

(fifteen thousand bushels) of cereals from land reclaimed by himself

should receive the sixth class order of merit (kun roku-to), while a

crop of over a thousand koku and less than three thousand would carry

lifelong exemption from forced labour. The Daika principle that the

land was wholly the property of the Crown had thus to yield partially

to the urgency of the situation, and during the third decade of the

eighth century it was enacted that, if a man reclaimed land by

utilizing aqueducts and reservoirs already in existence, the land

should belong to him for his lifetime, while if the reservoirs and

aqueducts were of his own construction, the right of property should

be valid for three generations.* From the operation of this law the

provincial governors were excepted; the usufruct of lands reclaimed

by them was limited to the term of their tenure of office, though, as

related already, legislation in their case varied greatly from time

to time.

*This system was called Sansei-isshin no ho. It is, perhaps,

advisable to note that the Daika system of dividing the land for

sustenance purposes applied only to land already under cultivation.

For a certain period the system of "three generations, or one life"

worked smoothly enough; but subsequently it was found that as the

limit of time approached, farmers neglected to till the land and

suffered it to lie waste. Therefore, in the year 743, the Government

enacted that all reclaimed land should be counted the perpetual

property of the reclaimer, with one proviso, namely, that three years

of neglect to cultivate should involve confiscation. The recognition

of private ownership was not unlimited. An area of five hundred cho

(1250 acres) was fixed as the superior limit, applicable only to the

case of a "First Class" prince, the quantities being thereafter on a

sliding scale down to ten cho (twenty-five acres). Any excess

resulting from previous accretions was to revert to the State.

Evidently the effective operation of such a system predicated

accurate surveys and strict supervision. Neither of these conditions

existed in Japan at that remote period. The prime purpose of the

legislators was achieved, since the people devoted themselves

assiduously to land reclamation; but by free recourse to their power

of commanding labour, the great families acquired estates largely in

excess of the legal limit. A feature of the Nara epoch was the

endowment of the Buddhist temples with land by men of all classes,

and the sho-en, or temple domain, thus came into existence.

STOCK FARMING

Information on the subject of stock farming is scanty and indirect,

but in the year 713 we find a rescript ordering the provincials of

Yamashiro to provide and maintain fifty milch-cows, and in 734,

permission was given that all the districts in the Tokai-do, the

Tosan-do, and the Sanin-do might trade freely in cattle and horses.

Seven years later (741), when Shomu occupied the throne, and when

Buddhism spread its protecting mantle over all forms of life, an

edict appeared condemning anyone who killed a horse or an ox to be

flogged with a hundred strokes and to be fined heavily. Only one

other reference to stock farming appears in the annals of the Nara

epoch: the abolition of the two pastures at Osumi and Himeshima in

the province of Settsu was decreed in 771, but no reason is recorded.

SERICULTURE

From the remotest times sericulture was assiduously practised in

Japan, the ladies of the Imperial Court, from the Empress downwards,

taking an active part in the pursuit. The wave of Buddhist zeal which

swept over Japan in the eighth century gave a marked impulse to this

branch of industry, for the rich robes of the priests constituted a

special market.

ORANGES

It is recorded in the Chronicles that Tajimamori, a Korean emigrant

of royal descent, was sent to the "Eternal Land" by the Emperor

Suinin, in the year A.D. 61, to obtain "the fragrant fruit that grows

out of season;" that, after a year's absence, he returned, and

finding the Emperor dead, committed suicide at his tomb. The

"fragrant fruit" is understood to have been the orange, then called

tachibana (Citrus nobilis). If the orange really reached Japan at

that remote date, it does not appear to have been cultivated there,

for the importation of orange trees from China is specially mentioned

as an incident of the early Nara epoch.

INDUSTRIES

One of the unequivocal benefits bestowed on Japan by Buddhism was a

strong industrial and artistic impulse. Architecture made notable

progress owing to the construction of numerous massive and

magnificent temples and pagodas. One of the latter, erected during

the reign of Temmu, had a height of thirteen storeys. The arts of

casting and of sculpture, both in metal and in wood, received great

development, as did also the lacquer industry. Vermilion lacquer was

invented in the time of Temmu, and soon five different colours could

be produced, while to the Nara artisans belongs the inception of

lacquer strewn with makie. Lacquer inlaid with mother-of-pearl was

another beautiful concept of the Nara epoch. A special tint of red

was obtained with powdered coral, and gold and silver were freely

used in leaf or in plates. As yet, history does not find any Japanese

painter worthy of record. Chinese and Korean masters remained supreme

in that branch of art.

TRADE

Commerce with China and Korea was specially active throughout the

eighth century, and domestic trade also nourished. In the capital

there were two markets where people assembled at noon and dispersed

at sunset. Men and women occupied different sections, and it would

seem that transactions were subject to strict surveillance. Thus, if

any articles of defective quality or adulterated were offered for

sale, they were liable to be confiscated officially, and if a buyer

found that short measure had been given, he was entitled to return

his purchase. Market-rates had to be conformed with, and purchasers

were required to pay promptly. It appears that trees were planted to

serve as shelter or ornament, for we read of "trees in the Market of

the East" and "orange trees in the market of Kaika."

HABITATIONS

The Buddhist temple, lofty, spacious, with towering tiled roof,

massive pillars and rich decoration of sculpture and painting, could

not fail to impart an impetus to Japanese domestic architecture,

especially as this impressive apparition was not evolved gradually

under the eyes of the nation but was presented to them suddenly in

its complete magnificence. Thus it is recorded that towards the close

of the seventh century, tiled roofs and greater solidity of structure

began to distinguish official buildings, as has been already noted.

But habitations in general remained insignificant and simple. A poem

composed by the Dowager Empress Gensho (724) with reference to the

dwelling of Prince Nagaya is instructive:

"Hata susuki" (Thatched with miscanthus)

"Obana sakafuki" (And eularia)

"Kuro-ki mochi" (Of ebon timbers built, a house)

"Tsukureru yado wa" (Will live a myriad years.)

"Yorozu yo made ni."

This picture of a nobleman's dwelling in the eighth century is not

imposing. In the very same year the Emperor Shomu, responding to an

appeal from the council of State, issued an edict that officials of

the fifth rank and upwards and wealthy commoners should build

residences with tiled roofs and walls plastered in red. This

injunction was only partly obeyed: tiles came into more general use,

but red walls offended the artistic instinct of the Japanese. Nearly

fifty years later, when (767-769) the shrine of Kasuga was erected at

Nara in memory of Kamatari, founder of the Fujiwara family, its

pillars were painted in vermilion, and the fashion inaugurated found

frequent imitation in later years.

Of furniture the houses had very little as compared with Western

customs. Neither chairs nor bedsteads existed; people sat and slept

on the floor, separated from it only by mats made of rice-straw, by

cushions or by woollen carpets, and in aristocratic houses there was

a kind of stool to support the arm of the sitter, a lectern, and a

dais for sitting on. Viands were served on tables a few inches high,

and people sat while eating. From the middle of the seventh century a

clepsydra of Chinese origin was used to mark the hours.

The first of these instruments is recorded to have been made in A.D.

660, and tradition does not tell what device had previously served

the purpose. When temple bells came into existence, the hours were

struck on them for public information, and there is collateral

evidence that some similar system of marking time had been resorted

to from early eras. But the whole story is vague. It seems, however,

that the method of counting the hours was influenced by the manner of

striking them. Whether bronze bell or wooden clapper was used, three

preliminary strokes were given by way of warning, and it therefore

became inexpedient to designate any of the hours "one," "two," or

"three." Accordingly the initial number was four, and the day being

divided into six hours, instead of twelve, the highest number became

nine, which corresponded to the Occidental twelve.*

*There were no subdivisions into minutes and seconds in old Japan.

The only fraction of an hour was one-half.

BELLS

Concerning the bells here mentioned, they are one of the unexplained

achievements of Japanese casters. In Europe the method of producing a

really fine-toned bell was evolved by "ages of empirical trials," but

in Japan bells of huge size and exquisite note were cast in apparent

defiance of all the rules elaborated with so much difficulty in the

West. One of the most remarkable hangs in the belfry of Todai-ji at

Nara. It was cast in the year 732 when Shomu occupied the throne; it

is 12 feet 9 inches high; 8 feet 10 inches in diameter; 10 inches

thick, and weighs 49 tons. There are great bells also in the temples

at Osaka and Kyoto, and it is to be noted that early Japanese bronze

work was largely tributary and subsidiary to temple worship. Temple

bells, vases, gongs, mirrors and lanterns are the principal items in

this class of metal-working, until a much later period with its

smaller ornaments.

Very few references to road making are found in the ancient annals,

but the reign of the Empress Gensho (715-723) is distinguished as the

time when the Nakasen-do, or Central Mountain road, was constructed.

It runs from Nara to Kyoto and thence to the modern Tokyo, traversing

six provinces en route. Neither history nor tradition tells whether

it was wholly made in the days of Gensho or whether, as seems more

probable, it was only commenced then and carried to completion in the

reign of Shomu (724-748), when a large force of troops had to be sent

northward against the rebellious Yemishi. Doubtless the custom of

changing the capital on the accession of each sovereign had the

effect of calling many roads into existence, but these were of

insignificant length compared with a great trunk highway like the

Nakasen-do.

Along these roads the lower classes travelled on foot; the higher on

horseback, and the highest in carts drawn by bullocks. For

equestrians who carried official permits, relays of horses could

always be obtained at posting stations. Among the ox-carts which

served for carriages, there was a curious type, distinguished by the

fact that between the shafts immediately in front of the dashboard

stood a figure whose outstretched arm perpetually pointed south. This

compass-cart, known as the "south-pointing chariot," was introduced

from China in the year 658. There was also a "cloud-chariot," but

this served for war purposes only, being a movable erection for

overlooking an enemy's defensive work, corresponding to the turris of

Roman warfare. Borrowed also from China was a battering engine which

moved on four wheels, and, like the cloud-chariot, dated from 661,

when a Tang army invaded Korea.

HABILIMENTS

A reader of the Chronicles is struck by the fact that from the close

of the seventh century much official attention seems to have been

bestowed on the subject of costume. Thus, during the last five years

of the Emperor Temmu's reign--namely, from 681--we find no less than

nine sumptuary regulations issued. The first was an edict, containing

ninety-two articles, of which the prologue alone survives, "The

costumes of all, from the princes of the Blood down to the common

people, and the wearing of gold and silver, pearls and jewels,

purple, brocade, embroidery, fine silks, together with woollen

carpets, head-dresses, and girdles, as well as all kinds of coloured

stuffs, are regulated according to a scale, the details of which are

given in the written edict." In the next year (682), another edict

forbids the wearing of caps of rank, aprons, broad girdles, and

leggings by princes or public functionaries, as well as the use of

shoulder-straps or mantillas by palace stewards or ladies-in-waiting.

The shoulder-strap was a mark of manual labour, and its use in the

presence of a superior has always been counted as rude in Japan.

A few days later, this meticulous monarch is found commanding men and

women to tie up their hair, eight months being granted to make the

change, and, at the same time, the practice of women riding astride

on horseback came into vogue, showing that female costume had much in

common with male. Caps of varnished gauze, after the Chinese type,

began to be worn by both sexes simultaneously with the tying-up of

the hair. Two years later, women of forty years or upwards were given

the option of tying up their hair or letting it hang loose, and of

riding astride or side-saddle as they pleased. At the same time, to

both sexes, except on State occasions, liberty of choice was accorded

in the matter of wearing sleeveless jackets fastened in front with

silk cords and tassels, though in the matter of trousers, men had to

gather theirs in at the bottom with a lace. By and by, the tying up

of the hair by women was forbidden in its turn; the wearing of

leggings was sanctioned, and the colours of Court costumes were

strictly determined according to the rank of the wearer red, deep

purple, light purple, dark green, light green, deep grape-colour and

light grape-colour being the order from above downwards.

All this attention to costume is suggestive of much refinement. From

the eighth century even greater care was devoted to the subject. We

find three kinds of habiliments prescribed--full dress (reifuku),

Court dress (chofuku) and uniform (seifuku)--with many minor

distinctions according to the rank of the wearer. Broadly speaking,

the principal garments were a paletot, trousers, and a narrow girdle

tied in front. The sleeves of the paletot were studiously regulated.

A nobleman wore them long enough to cover his hands, and their

width--which in after ages became remarkable--was limited in the Nara

epoch to one foot. The manner of folding the paletot over the breast

seems to have perplexed the legislators for a time. At first they

prescribed that the right should be folded over the left (hidarimae),

but subsequently (719) an Imperial decree ordered that the left

should be laid across the right (migimae), and since that day, nearly

twelve hundred years ago, there has not been any departure from the

latter rule. Court officials carried a baton (shaku), that, too,

being a habit borrowed from China.

FOOD

When the influence of Buddhism became supreme in Court circles, all

taking of life for purposes of food was interdicted. The first

prohibitory decree in that sense was issued by Temmu (673-686), and

the veto was renewed in more peremptory terms by Shomu (724-748),

while the Empress Shotoku (765-770) went so far as to forbid the

keeping of dogs, falcons, or cormorants for hunting or fishing at

Shinto ceremonials. But such vetoes were never effectually enforced.

The great staple of diet was rice, steamed or boiled, and next in

importance came millet, barley, fish of various kinds (fresh or

salted), seaweed, vegetables, fruit (pears, chestnuts, etc.), and the

flesh of fowl, deer, and wild boar. Salt, bean-sauce, and vinegar

were used for seasoning. There were many kinds of dishes; among the

commonest being soup (atsumono) and a preparation of raw fish in

vinegar (namasu). In the reign of Kotoku (645-654), a Korean named

Zena presented a milch cow to the Court, and from that time milk was

recognized as specially hygienic diet. Thus, when the Daiho laws were

published at the beginning of the eighth century, dairies were

attached to the medical department, and certain provinces received

orders to present butter (gyuraku) for the Court's use.

MARRIAGES AND FUNERALS

Very little is known of the marriage ceremony in old Japan. That

there was a nuptial hut is attested by very early annals, and from

the time of the Emperor Richu (400-405) wedding presents are

recorded. But for the rest, history is silent, and it is impossible

to fix the epoch when a set ceremonial began to be observed.

As to funerals, there is fuller but not complete information. That a

mortuary chamber was provided for the corpse pending the preparation

of the tomb is shown by the earliest annals, and from an account,

partly allegorical, contained in the records of the prehistoric age,

we learn that dirges were sung for eight days and eight nights, and

that in the burial procession were marshalled bearers of viands to be

offered at the grave, bearers of brooms to sweep the path, women who

prepared the viands, and a body of hired mourners. But the Kojiki,

describing the same ceremony, speaks of "making merry" with the

object of recalling the dead to life, as the Sun goddess had been

enticed from her cave. From the days of the Emperor Bidatsu

(572-585), we find the first mention of funeral orations, and

although the contents of tombs bear witness to the fact that articles

other than food were offered to the deceased, it is not until the

burial of the Emperor's consort, Katachi, (612) that explicit mention

is made of such a custom. On that occasion Tori, omi of the Abe-uji,

offered to the spirit of the dead "sacred utensils and sacred

garments, fifteen thousand kinds in all." Fifty years later, white is

mentioned as the mourning colour, but when next (683) we hear of

funerals, it is evident that their realm had been invaded by Chinese

customs, for it is recorded that "officials of the third rank were

allowed at their funerals one hearse, forty drums, twenty great

horns, forty little horns, two hundred flags, one metal gong, and one

hand-bell, with lamentation for one day." At Temmu's obsequies (687)

mention is made of an "ornamented chaplet," the first reference to

the use of flowers, which constitute such a prominent feature of

Buddhist obsequies.

But there is no evidence that Buddhist rites were employed at

funerals until the death of the retired Emperor Shomu (756).

Thereafter, the practice became common. It was also to a Buddhist

priest, Dosho, that Japan owed the inception of cremation. Dying in

the year 700, Dosho ordered his disciples to cremate his body at

Kurihara, and, two years later, the Dowager Empress Jito willed that

her corpse should be similarly disposed of. From the megalithic tombs

of old Japan to the little urn that holds the handful of ashes

representing a cremated body, the transition is immense. It has been

shown that one of the signal reforms of the Daika era was the setting

of limits to the size of sepulchres, a measure which afforded to the

lower classes much relief from forced labour. But an edict issued in

706 shows that the tendance of the resting place of the dead was

still regarded as a sacred duty, for the edict ordered that, alike at

the ancestral tombs of the uji and in the residential quarter of the

common people, trees should be planted.

Not yet, however, does the custom of erecting monuments with

inscriptions seem to have come into vogue. The Empress Gemmyo (d.

721) appears to have inaugurated that feature, for she willed not

only that evergreens should be planted at her grave but also that a

tablet should be set up there. Some historians hold that the donning

of special garments by way of mourning had its origin at that time,

and that it was borrowed from the Tang code of etiquette. But the

Chronicles state that in the year A.D. 312, when the Prince Imperial

committed suicide rather than occupy the throne, his brother,

Osasagi, "put on plain unbleached garments and began mourning for

him." White ultimately became the mourning colour, but in the eighth

century it was dark,* and mourning habiliments were called

fuji-koromo, because they were made from the bark of the wisteria

(fuji). Among the Daiho statutes was one providing that periods of

mourning should be of five grades, the longest being one year and the

shortest seven days.

*"On the death of the Emperor Inkyo (A.D. 453), the Korean Court sent

eighty musicians robed in black, who marched in procession to the

Yamato palace, playing and singing a dirge as they went."

PASTIMES

Foremost among the pastimes of the Japanese people in all epochs was

dancing. We hear of it in the prehistoric age when the "monkey

female" (Sarume) performed a pantominic dance before the rock cave of

the Sun goddess; we hear of it in protohistoric times when Inkyo's

consort was betrayed into an offer that wrecked her happiness, and we

hear of it in the historic epoch when the future Emperor Kenso danced

in the disguise of a horse-boy. But as the discussion of this subject

belongs more intelligently to the era following the Nara, we confine

ourselves here to noting that even the religious fanatic Shomu is

recorded as having repaired to the Shujaku gate of the palace to

witness a performance of song and dance (utagaki) in which 240

persons, men and women, took part; and that, in the same year (734),

230 members of six great uji performed similarly, all robed in blue

garments fastened in front with long red cords and tassels.

The tendency of the Japanese has always been to accompany their

feasting and merry-making with music, versifying, and dancing. At the

time now under consideration there was the "winding-water fete"

(kyoku-sui no en), when princes, high officials, courtiers, and noble

ladies seated themselves by the banks of a rivulet meandering gently

through some fair park, and launched tiny cups of mulled wine upon

the current, each composing a stanza as the little messenger reached

him, or drinking its contents by way of penalty for lack of poetic

inspiration. There were also the flower festivals--that for the plum

blossoms, that for the iris, and that for the lotus, all of which

were instituted in this same Nara epoch--when the composition of

couplets was quite as important as the viewing of the flowers. There

was, further, the grand New Year's banquet in the Hall of

Tranquillity at the Court, when all officials from the sixth grade

downwards sang a stanza of loyal gratitude, accompanying themselves

on the lute (koto). It was an era of refined effeminate amusements.

Wrestling had now become the pursuit of professionals. Aristocrats

engaged in no rougher pastime than equestrian archery, a species of

football, hawking, and hunting. Everybody gambled. It was in vain

that edicts were issued against dicing (chobo and sugoroku). The vice

defied official restraint.

LITERATURE AND POETRY

Having no books of her own, Japan naturally borrowed freely from the

rich mine of Chinese literature. By the tutors of the Imperial

family, at the colleges of the capital, and in the provincial schools

the classics constituted virtually the whole curriculum. The

advantages of education were, however, enjoyed by a comparatively

small element of the population. During the Nara epoch, it does not

appear that there were more than five thousand students attending the

schools and colleges at one time. The aim of instruction was to

prepare men for official posts rather than to impart general culture

or to encourage scientific research. Students were therefore selected

from the aristocrats or the official classes only. There were no

printed books; everything had to be laboriously copied by hand, and

thus the difficulties of learning were much enhanced. To be able to

adapt the Chinese ideographs skilfully to the purposes of written

Japanese was a feat achieved by comparatively few. What the task

involved has been roughly described in the opening chapter of this

volume, and with what measure of success it was achieved may be

estimated from the preface to the Records (Kojiki), written by Ono

Yasumaro, from the Chronicles (Nihon Shoki) and from the Daiho

Ritsu-ryo, which three works may be called the sole surviving prose

essays of the epoch.

Much richer, however, is the realm of poetry. It was during the Nara

epoch that the first Japanese anthology, the Manyo-shu (Collection of

a Myriad Leaves), was compiled. It remains to this day a revered

classic and "a whole mountain of commentary has been devoted to the

elucidation of its obscurities." [Chamberlain.] In the Myriad Leaves

are to be found poems dating nominally from the reigns of Yuryaku and

Nintoku, as well as from the days of Shotoku Taishi, but much more

numerous are those of Jomei's era (629-641) and especially those of

the Nara epoch. The compiler's name is not known certainly; he is

believed to have been either Tachibana no Moroe or Otomo no

Yakamochi. Old manuscripts and popular memory were the sources, and

the verselets total 4496, in twenty volumes. Some make love their

theme; some deal with sorrow; some are allegorical; some draw their

inspiration from nature's beauties, and some have miscellaneous

motives. Hitomaru, who flourished during the reign of the Empress

Jito (690-697), and several of whose verses are to be found in the

Myriad Leaves, has been counted by all generations the greatest of

Japanese poets. Not far below him in fame is Akahito, who wrote in

the days of Shomu (724-749). To the same century--the eighth--as the

Manyo-shu, belongs the Kiraifu-so, & volume containing 120 poems in

Chinese style, composed by sixty-four poets during the reigns of

Temmu, Jito, and Mommu, that is to say, between 673 and 707. Here

again the compiler's name is unknown, but the date of compilation is

clear, November, 751.

From the fact that, while bequeathing to posterity only two national

histories and a few provincial records (the Fudo-ki), the Nara epoch

has left two anthologies, it will be inferred readily that the

writing of poetry was a favourite pursuit in that age. Such, indeed,

was the case. The taste developed almost into a mania. Guests bidden

to a banquet were furnished with writing materials and invited to

spend hours composing versicles on themes set by their hosts. But

skill in writing verse was not merely a social gift; it came near to

being a test of fitness for office.

"In their poetry above everything the Japanese have remained

impervious to alien influences. It owes this conservation to its

prosody. Without rhyme, without variety of metre, without elasticity

of dimensions, it is also without known counterpart. To alter it in

any way would be to deprive it of all distinguishing characteristics.

At some remote date a Japanese maker of songs seems to have

discovered that a peculiar and very fascinating rhythm is produced by

lines containing 5 syllables and 7 syllables alternately. That is

Japanese poetry (uta or tanka). There are generally five lines: the

first and third consisting of 5 syllables, the second, fourth and

fifth of 7, making a total of 31 in all. The number of lines is not

compulsory: sometimes they may reach to thirty, forty or even more,

but the alternation of 5 and 7 syllables is compulsory. The most

attenuated form of all is the hokku (or haikai) which consists of

only three lines, namely, 17 syllables. Necessarily the ideas

embodied in such a narrow vehicle must be fragmentary. Thus it

results that Japanese poems are, for the most part, impressionist;

they suggest a great deal more than they actually express. Here is an

example:

Momiji-ha wo

Kaze ni makasete

Miru yori mo

Hakanaki mono wa

Inochi nari keri

This may be translated:

More fleeting than the glint of withered leaf wind-blown, the thing

called life."*

*See Encyclopaedia Britannica, 11th Edition, article "Japan."

The sketchy nature of Japanese poetry, especially in this five-line

stanza, may be illustrated further by two poems quoted by Prof. B. H.

Chamberlain in his "Things Japanese" (pp. 375-376),

The first:

Hototogisu

Nakitsuru kata wo

Nagamureba--

Tada ari-ake no

Tsuki zo nokoreru

is literally translated by Professor Chamberlain as follows:

"When I gaze towards the place where the cuckoo has been singing,

nought remains but the moon in the early dawn."

And the conventional and pictorial character of the literary form is

illustrated again in the lines:

Shira-kumo ni

Hane uchi-kawashi

Tobu kari no

Kazu sae miyuru

Aki no yo no tsuki!

which the same eminent scholar translates: "The moon on an autumn

night making visible the very number of the wild-geese that fly past

with wings intercrossed in the white clouds." It is to be noted that

this last is, to Occidental notions, a mere poetic phrase and not a

unit.

Of course, the very exigencies of the case make the three-line stanza

(or hokku), containing only 17 syllables, even more sketchy--hardly

more indeed than a tour de force composed of a limited number of

brush strokes! The Western critic, with his totally different

literary conventions, has difficulty in bringing himself to regard

Japanese verse as a literary form or in thinking of it otherwise than

as an exercise in ingenuity, an Oriental puzzle; and this notion is

heightened by the prevalence of the couplet-composing contests, which

did much to heighten the artificiality of the genre.

RELATIONS BETWEEN THE SEXES

There was probably no more shocking sexual vice or irregularity in

the Nara epoch than there had been before nor than there was

afterwards. The only evidence adduced to prove that there was

anything of the sort is the fact that laws were promulgated looking

to the restraint of illicit intercourse. These laws seem to have

accomplished little or nothing and the existence of the laws argues

rather a growing sense of the seriousness of the evil than any sudden

increase in the prevalence of the evil itself. There can be no

question, however, of the wide diffusion of concubinage in this

period. Not morals nor repute nor public opinion, but the wealth and

wishes of each man limited him in his amours of this sort. The

essential of a virtuous woman was that she be faithful to her husband

or lover; no such faithfulness was expected of him. And neither in

the case of man nor woman did the conventions of the period depend at

all on the nature of the relationship between the two. Wives no

longer lived in their fathers' homes after marriage, but the

newly-wedded husband built new rooms for his wife's especial use, so

that, by a fiction such as the Oriental delights in and Occidental

law is not entirely ignorant of, her home was still not his. Before

betrothal, girls were not allowed to call themselves by a family

name. At the betrothal her affianced first bound up in a fillet the

hair that she had formerly worn loose around her face. Even more

symbolical was the custom upon lovers' parting of tying to the

woman's undergarment a string from the man's; this knot was to be

unloosed only when they met again.

THE SHOSO-IN

At Nara, in Yamato province, near the temple of Todai-ji, a store

house built of wood and called the Shoso-in was constructed in the

Nara epoch, and it still stands housing a remarkable collection of

furniture and ornaments from the Imperial palace. There is some

question whether this collection is truly typical of the period, or

even of the palace of the period; but the presence of many utensils

from China, some from India (often with traces of Greek influence),

and a few from Persia certainly shows the degree of cosmopolitan

culture and elegance there was in the palace at Nara. At the present

day, strangers may visit the collection only by special permission

and only on two days each year; and the museum has always had a

mingled imperial and sacred character. When the power of the

shogunate was at its height, the Shoso-in was never opened except by

orders of the Emperor. Among the contents of this museum are:

polished mirrors with repousse backs, kept in cases lined with

brocaded silk; bronze vases; bronze censers; hicense-boxes made of

Paulownia wood or of Chinese ware; two-edged swords, which were tied

to the girdle, instead of being thrust through it; narrow leather

belts with silver or jade decoration; bamboo flutes; lacquer

writing-cases, etc.

ENGRAVING: OUTLINE SKETCH OF THE SHOSO-IN AT NARA

REFORM OF LOCAL ADMINISTRATIONS

To the Emperor Konin belongs the credit of correcting some flagrant

abuses in provincial administration. There was an inconvenient

outcome of the religious mania which pervaded the upper classes

during the reigns of Shomu and Koken. To meet the expense of building

temples and casting images, men of substance in the provinces were

urged to make contributions of money, cereals, or land, and in return

for this liberality they were granted official posts. It resulted

that no less than thirty-one supernumerary provincial governors were

borne on the roll at one time, and since all these regarded office as

a means of recouping the cost of nomination, taxpayers and persons

liable to the corvée fared ill. In 774, Koken issued an edict that

provincial governors who had held office for five years or upwards

should be dismissed at once, those of shorter terms being allowed to

complete five years and then removed.

Another evil, inaugurated during the reign of Shomu, when faith in

the potency of supernatural influences obsessed men's minds, was

severely dealt with by Konin. Office-seekers resorted to the device

of contriving conflagrations of official property, rewarding the

incendiaries with the plunder, and circulating rumours that these

calamities were visitations of heaven to punish the malpractices of

the provincial governors in whose jurisdictions they occurred. It is

on record that, in several cases, these stories led to the dismissal

of governors and their replacement by their traducers. Konin decreed

that such crimes should be punished by the death of all concerned.

These reforms, supplemented by the removal of many superfluous

officials, earned for Konin such popularity that for the first time

in Japan's history, the sovereign's birthday became a festival*,

thereafter celebrated through all ages.

*Called Tenchosetsu.

THE MILITARY SYSTEM

It has been shown that compulsory military service was introduced in

689, during the reign of the Empress Jito, one-fourth of all the

able-bodied men in each province being required to serve a fixed time

with the colours. It has also been noted that under the Daiho

legislation the number was increased to one-third. This meant that no

distinction existed between soldier and peasant. The plan worked ill.

No sufficient provision of officers being made, the troops remained

without training, and it frequently happened that, instead of

military exercises, they were required to labour for the enrichment

of a provincial governor.

The system, being thus discredited, fell into abeyance in the year

739, but that it was not abolished is shown by the fact that, in 780,

we find the privy council memorializing the Throne in a sense

unfavourable to the drafting of peasants into the ranks. The memorial

alleged that the men lacked training; that they were physically

unfit; that they busied themselves devising pretexts for evasion;

that their chief function was to perform fatigue-duty for local

governors, and that to send such men into the field of battle would

be to throw away their lives fruitlessly. The council recommended

that indiscriminate conscription of peasants should be replaced by a

system of selection, the choice being limited to men with some

previous training; that the number taken should be in proportion to

the size of the province, and that those not physically robust should

be left to till the land. These recommendations were approved. They

constituted the first step towards complete abolishment of compulsory

service and towards the glorifying of the profession of arms above

that of agriculture. Experience quickly proved, however, that some

more efficient management was necessary in the maritime provinces,

and in 792, Kwammu being then on the throne, an edict abolished the

provincial troops in all regions except those which, by their

proximity to the continent of Asia, were exposed to danger, namely,

Dazai-fu in Kyushu, and in Mutsu, Dewa, and Sado in the north. Some

specially organized force was needed also for extraordinary service

and for guarding official storehouses, offices, and places where

post-bells (suzu) were kept. To that end the system previously

practised during the reign of Shomu (724-749) was reverted to; that

is to say, the most robust among the sons and younger brothers of

provincial governors and local officials were enrolled in corps of

strength varying with the duties to be performed. These were called

kondei or kenji. We learn from the edict that the abuse of employing

soldiers as labourers was still practised, but of course this did not

apply to the kondei.

The tendency of the time was against imposing military service on the

lower classes. During the period 810-820, the forces under the

Dazai-fu jurisdiction, that is to say, in the six provinces of

Chikuzen, Chikugo, Hizen, Higo, Buzen, and Bungo, were reduced from

17,100 to 9000. Dazai-fu and Mutsu being littoral regions, the

conscription system still existed there, but in Mutsu there were not

only heishi, that is to say, local militiamen of the ordinary type

and kenji or kondei, but also chimpei, or guards who were required to

serve at a distance from home. Small farmers, upon whom this duty

devolved, had no choice but to take their wives and children with

them, the family subsisting on the pittance given as rations eked out

by money realized from sales of chattels and garments. Thus, on the

expiration of their service they returned to their native place in a

wholly destitute condition, and sometimes perished of hunger on the

way. In consideration of the hardships of such a system, it was

abolished, and thus the distinction between the soldier and the

peasant received further accentuation.

There is no record as to the exact dimensions of Japan's standing

army in the ninth century, but if we observe that troops were raised

in the eight littoral provinces only--six in the south and two in the

north--and in the island of Sado, and that the total number in the

six southern provinces was only nine thousand, it would seem

reasonable to conclude that the aggregate did not exceed thirty

thousand. There were also the kondei (or kenji), but these, since

they served solely as guards or for special purposes, can scarcely be

counted a part of the standing army. The inference is that whatever

the Yamato race may have been when it set out upon its original

career of conquest, or when, in later eras, it sent great armies to

the Asiatic continent, the close of the fifth cycle after the coming

of Buddhism found the country reduced to a condition of comparative

military weakness. As to that, however, clearer judgment may be

formed in the context of the campaign--to be now spoken of--conducted

by the Yamato against the Yemishi tribes throughout a great part of

the eighth century and the early years of the ninth.

REVOLT OF THE YEMISHI

It has been shown that the close of the third decade of the eighth

century saw the capital established at Nara amid conditions of great

refinement, and saw the Court and the aristocracy absorbed in

religious observances, while the provincial governments were, in many

cases, corrupt and inefficient. In the year 724, Nara received news

of an event which illustrated the danger of such a state of affairs.

The Yemishi of the east had risen in arms and killed Koyamaro, warden

of Mutsu. At that time the term "Mutsu" represented a much wider area

than the modern region of the same name: it comprised the five

provinces now distinguished as Iwaki, Iwashiro, Rikuzen, Rikuchu, and

Mutsu--in other words, the whole of the northeastern and northern

littoral of the main island. Similarly, the provinces now called Ugo

and Uzen, which form the northwestern littoral, were comprised in the

single term "Dewa." Nature has separated these two regions, Mutsu and

Dewa, by a formidable chain of mountains, constituting the backbone

of northern Japan. Within Dewa, Mutsu, and the island of Yezo, the

aboriginal Yemishi had been held since Yamato-dake's signal campaign

in the second century A.D., and though not so effectually quelled as

to preclude all danger of insurrection, their potentialities caused

little uneasiness to the Central Government.

But there was no paltering with the situation which arose in 724.

Recourse was immediately had to the Fujiwara, whose position at the

Imperial Court was paramount, and Umakai, grandson of the renowned

Kamatari, set out at the head of thirty thousand men, levied from the

eight Bands provinces, by which term Sagami, Musashi, Awa, Kazusa,

Shimosa, Hitachi, Kotsuke, and Shimotsuke were designated. The

expanded system of conscription established under the Daiho code was

then in force, and thus a large body of troops could easily be

assembled. Umakai's army did not experience any serious resistance.

But neither did it achieve anything signal. Marching by two routes,

it converged on the castle of Taga, a fortress just constructed by

Ono Azumahito, the lord warden of the Eastern Marches. The plan

pursued by the Yamato commanders was to build castles and barriers

along the course of rivers giving access to the interior, as well as

along the coast line. Taga Castle was the first of such works, and,

by the year 767, the programme had been carried in Mutsu as far as

the upper reaches of the Kitakami River,* and in Dewa as far as

Akita.

*A monument still stands on the site of the old Taga Castle. It was

put up in A.D. 762, and it records that the castle stood fifty miles

from the island of Yezo.

History has nothing further to tell about the Yemishi until the year

774, when they again took up arms, captured one (Mono) of the

Japanese forts and drove out its garrison. Again the eight Bando

provinces were ordered to send levies, and at the head of the army

thus raised a Japanese general penetrated far into Mutsu and

destroyed the Yemishi's chief stronghold. This success was followed

by an aggressive policy on the part of the lord-warden, Ki no

Hirozumi. He extended the chain of forts to Kabe in Dewa, and to

Isawa in Mutsu. This was in 780. But there ensued a strong movement

of reprisal on the part of the Yemishi. Led by Iharu no Atamaro, they

overwhelmed Hirozumi's army, killed the lord-warden himself, and

pushed on to Taga Castle, which they burned, destroying vast stores

of arms and provisions. It was precisely at this time that the State

council, as related above, memorialized the Throne, denouncing the

incompetency of the provincial conscripts and complaining that the

provincial authorities, instead of training the soldiers, used them

for forced labour. The overthrow of the army in Mutsu and the

destruction of Taga Castle justified this memorial.

The Court appointed Fujiwara Tsugunawa to take command of a punitive

expedition, and once again Bando levies converged on the site of the

dismantled castle of Taga. But beyond that point no advance was

essayed, in spite of bitter reproaches from Nara. "In summer," wrote

the Emperor (Konin), "you plead that the grass is too dry; in winter

you allege that bran is too scant. You discourse adroitly but you get

no nearer to the foe." Konin's death followed shortly afterwards, but

his successor, Kwammu, zealously undertook the pursuit of the

campaign. Notice was sent (783) to the provincial authorities

directing them to make preparations and to instruct the people that

an armed expedition was inevitable. News had just been received of

fresh outrages in Dewa. The Yemishi had completely dispersed and

despoiled the inhabitants of two districts, so that it was found

necessary to allot lands to them elsewhere and to erect houses for

their shelter.

The Emperor said in his decree that the barbarian tribes, when

pursued, fled like birds; when unmolested, gathered like ants; that

the conscripts from the Bando provinces were reported to be weak and

unfit for campaigning, and that those skilled in archery and

physically robust stood aloof from military service, forgetting that

they all owed a common duty to their country and their sovereign.

Therefore, his Majesty directed that the sons and younger brothers of

all local officials or provincial magnates should be examined with a

view to the selection of those suited for military service, who

should be enrolled and drilled, to the number of not less than five

hundred and not more than two thousand per province according to its

size. Thus, the eight Bando provinces must have furnished a force of

from four to sixteen thousand men, all belonging to the aristocratic

class. These formed the nucleus of the army. They were supplemented

by 52,800 men, infantry and cavalry, collected from the provinces

along the Eastern Sea (Tokai) and the Eastern Mountains (Tosan). so

that the total force must have aggregated sixty thousand. The command

in chief was conferred on Ki no Kosami, thirteenth in descent from

the renowned Takenouchi-no-Sukune, who had been second in command of

the Fujiwara Tsugunawa expedition nine years previously. A sword was

conferred on him by the Emperor, and he received authority to act on

his own discretion without seeking instructions from the Throne.

Meanwhile, the province of Mutsu had been ordered to send 35,000 koku

(175,000 bushels) of hulled rice to Taga Castle, and the other

provinces adjacent were required to store 23,000 koku (115,000

bushels) of hoshi-i (rice boiled and dried) and salt at the same

place. The troops were to be massed at Taga, and all the provisions

and munitions were collected there by April, 789. These figures are

suggestive of the light in which the Government regarded the affair.

Kosami moved out of Taga at the appointed time and pushed northward.

But with every forward movement the difficulties multiplied. Snow in

those regions lies many feet deep until the end of May, and the thaw

ensuing brings down from the mountains heavy floods which convert the

rivers into raging torrents and the roads into quagmires. On reaching

the bank of the Koromo River, forty-five miles north of Taga, the

troops halted. Their delay provoked much censure in the capital where

the climatic conditions do not appear to have been fully understood

or the transport difficulties appreciated. Urged by the Court to push

on rapidly, Kosami resumed his march in June; failed to preserve

efficient connexion between the parts of his army; had his van

ambushed; fled precipitately himself, and suffered a heavy defeat,

though only 2500 of his big army had come into action. His casualties

were 25 killed, 245 wounded, and 1036 drowned. A truce was effected

and the forces withdrew to Taga, while, as for Kosami, though he

attempted to deceive the Court by a bombastic despatch, he was

recalled and degraded together with all the senior officers of his

army.

It would seem as though this disaster to one comparatively small

section of a force aggregating from fifty to sixty thousand men need

not have finally interrupted the campaign, especially when the enemy

consisted of semi-civilized aborigines. The Government thought

differently, however. There was no idea of abandoning the struggle,

but the programme for its renewal assumed large dimensions, and

events in the capital were not propitious for immediate action. The

training of picked soldiers commenced at once, and the provision of

arms and horses. Kosami's discomfiture took place in 789, and during

the next two years orders were issued for the manufacture of 2000

suits of leather armour and 3000 of iron armour; the making of 34,500

arms, and the preparation of 1 10,000 bushels of hoshi-i. To the

command-in-chief the Emperor (Kwammu) appointed Saka-no-ye no

Tamuramaro.

This selection illustrates a conclusion already proved by the annals,

namely, that racial prejudice had no weight in ancient Japan. For

Tamuramaro was a direct descendant of that Achi no Omi who, as

already related, crossed from China during the Han dynasty and became

naturalized in Japan. His father, Karitamaro, distinguished himself

by reporting the Dokyo intrigue, in the year 770, and received the

post of chief of the palace guards, in which corps his son,

Tamuramaro, thereafter served. Tradition has assigned supernatural

capacities to Tamuramaro, and certainly in respect of personal

prowess no less than strategical talent he was highly gifted. In

June, 794, he invaded Mutsu at the head of a great army and, by a

series of rapidly delivered blows, effectually crushed the

aborigines, taking 457 heads, 100 prisoners, and 85 horses, and

destroying the strongholds of 75 tribes. Thereafter, until the year

of his death (811), he effectually held in check the spirit of

revolt, crushing two other insurrections--in 801 and 804--and

virtually annihilating the insurgents. He transferred the garrison

headquarters from Taga to Isawa, where he erected a castle,

organizing a body of four thousand militia (tonden-hei) to guard it;

and in the following year (803), he built the castle of Shiba at a

point still further north.

NATIONALITY OF THE INSURGENTS

Annals of historical repute are confined to the above account. There

is, however, one unexplained feature, which reveals itself to even a

casual reader. In their early opposition to Yamato aggression, the

Yemishi--or Ainu, or Yezo, by whatever name they be called--displayed

no fighting qualities that could be called formidable. Yet now, in

the eighth century, they suddenly show themselves men of such prowess

that the task of subduing them taxes the resources of the Yamato to

the fullest. Some annalists are disposed to seek an explanation of

this discrepancy in climatic and topographical difficulties. Kosami,

in his despatch referring to the Koromo-gawa campaign, explains that

12,440 men had to be constantly employed in transporting provisions

and that the quantity carried by them in twenty-four days did not

exceed eleven days' rations for the troops. The hardship of

campaigning in a country where means of communication were so

defective is easily conjectured, and it has also to be noted that

during only a brief period in summer did the climate of Mutsu permit

taking the field. But these conditions existed equally in the eras of

Yamato-dake and Hirafu. Whatever obstacles they presented in the

eighth century must have been equally potent in the second and in the

seventh.

Two explanations are offered. They are more or less conjectural. One

is that the Yemishi of Mutsu were led by chieftains of Yamato origin,

men who had migrated to the northeast in search of fortune or

impelled by disaffection. It seems scarcely credible, however, that a

fact so special would have eluded historical reference, whereas only

one passing allusion is made to it and that, too, in a book not fully

credible. The other explanation is that the Yemishi were in league

with hordes of Tatars who had crossed from the mainland of Asia, or

travelled south by the islands of Saghalien and Yezo. The main

evidence in support of this theory is furnished by the names of the

insurgent leaders Akuro-o, Akagashira, and Akahige. Ideographists

point out that the character aku is frequently pronounced o, and with

that reading the name "Akuro-o" becomes "Oro-o," which was the term

used for "Russian." As for "Akagashira" and "Akahige," they frankly

signify "red head" and "red beard," common Japanese names for

foreigners. In a shrine at Suzuka-yama in Ise, to which point the

insurgents pushed southward before Tamuramaro took the field, there

used to be preserved a box, obviously of foreign construction, said

to have been left there by the "Eastern Barbarians;" and in the

Tsugaru district of the modern Mutsu province, relics exist of an

extensive fortress presenting features not Japanese, which is

conjectured to have been the basis of the Tatar invaders. But all

these inferences rest on little more than hypothesis.

RISE OF MILITARY HOUSES

What is certain, however, is that a collateral result of these

disturbances was to discredit the great Court nobles--the Otomo, the

Tachibana, the Ki, and the Fujiwara--as leaders of armies, and to lay

the foundation of the military houses (buke) which were destined to

become feudal rulers of Japan in after ages. Ki no Hirozumi, Ki no

Kosami, Otomo Yakamochi, Fujiwara Umakai, and Fujiwara Tsugunawa

having all failed, the Court was compelled to have recourse to the

representatives of a Chinese immigrant family, the Saka-no-ye. By

those who trace the ringer of fate in earthly happenings, it has been

called a dispensation that, at this particular juncture, a descendant

of Achi no Omi should have been a warrior with a height of six feet

nine inches,* eyes of a falcon, a beard like plaited gold-wire, a

frown that terrified wild animals, and a smile that attracted

children. For such is the traditional description of Tamuramaro.

Another incidental issue of the situation was that conspicuous credit

for fighting qualities attached to the troops specially organized in

the Bando (Kwanto) provinces with the sons and younger brothers of

local officials. These became the nucleus of a military class which

ultimately monopolized the profession of arms.

*The height recorded is five feet eight inches, but as that would be

a normal stature, there can be little doubt that "great" (dai)

measure is referred to and that the figures indicate six feet nine

inches.

RELATIONS WITH KOREA

During the eighth century relations of friendship were once more

established with Koma. A Manchurian tribe, migrating from the valley

of the Sungali River (then called the Sumo), settled on the east of

the modern province of Shengking, and was there joined by a remnant

of the Koma subjects after the fall of the latter kingdom. Ultimately

receiving investiture at the hands of the Tang Court, the sovereign

of the colony took the name of Tsuying, King of Pohai, and his son,

Wu-i, sent an envoy to Japan in 727, when Shomu was on the throne.

Where the embassy embarked there is no record, but, being blown out

of their course, the boats finally made the coast of Dewa, where

several of the envoy's suite were killed by the Yemishi. The envoy

himself reached Nara safely, and, representing his sovereign as the

successor of the Koma dynasty, was hospitably received, the usual

interchange of gifts taking place.

Twenty-five years later (752), another envoy arrived. The Empress

Koken then reigned at Nara, and her ministers insisted that, in the

document presented by the ambassador, Pohai must distinctly occupy

towards Japan the relation of vassal to suzerain, such having been

the invariable custom observed by Koma in former times. The

difficulty seems to have been met by substituting the name "Koma" for

"Pohai," thus, by implication, admitting that the new kingdom held

towards Japan the same status as that formerly held by Koma.

Throughout the whole of her subsequent intercourse with the Pohai

kingdom, intercourse which, though exceedingly fitful, lasted for

nearly a century and a half, Japan uniformly insisted upon the

maintenance of that attitude.

ENGRAVING: EMPEROR KWAMMU

A history of the Japanese people · 第 18 / 51 章