THE FARMER GIRDS HIS LOINS.
The journey from Tsu to Ki[^y]oto may be made by one in haste, mounted
on a strong horse, in two days, but in a land where trade is carried
on in perfunctory fashion, time is and ever was a cheap commodity. In
a shop the traders squat smoking on the mat, grin, prostrate
themselves with head-knockings on your entrance, offer a cup of tea
and a pipe, and consider that all has been done that may in fairness
be required of them. In need of goods, you must search yourself, pull
things from shelves, till you do or do not find the object you
require. As with trade so is it to this day with travel. An
energetic foreigner, by a liberal showering of yens, may induce his
kuruma-runners to cover thirty miles per diem; but the Japanese of all
ranks prefer to journey quietly, jogging along in kagos, at the
favourite and decorous pace of the familiar snail. Indeed the higher
the social status of the traveller, the slower will be his progress,
for impedimenta are symbols of dignity.
Our magnificent young General, although on horseback, was surrounded
and followed by a rabble, who for the most part were on foot. There
was the inevitable bodyguard of swaggering samurai, who, with hair
shorn from temples, and swords in red lacquer scabbards ostentatiously
displayed, cultivated a scowling expression of perpetual defiance,
incarnation of haughtiness, fanatical patriotism, and contempt of
everybody but themselves. Then there were cotton-coated and
straw-sandalled baggage-men by scores in charge of strings of
packhorses; a group of sutlers; and, swaying in rear of the
procession, an unwieldy but gaily-bedizened kago, for my lord to
recline in when fatigued.
There being no professional fun toward, neither master nor men were in
a hurry. To come upon a roadside tea-house, with its bevy of laughing
waitresses, meant the performance of a variety of operations:
tea-sipping, smoking, drowsy lounging, jesting, active dallying, and
then unlimited sleep.
At first the method of progression was of the slowest, for the marshy
plain was cut by various rivers, which had to be crossed in barges;
then came a stretch of paddy, or rice fields; a green sea of slush
bisected by a narrow gangway of stones, along which two men were
unable to trudge abreast. Then, the foot of the hills being reached,
there was a long and weariful ascent of rock and sliding stones--a
climb over precipice and crag by a way that could scarce be called a
path--and a descent on the other side as difficult. This feat
accomplished, it was, of course, necessary to bathe, and worship in an
adjoining temple, and rest and sleep again, and so it took more than a
week for the cavalcade to reach the capital.
At approach of the noisy procession the mountaineer cottagers peeped
out of their secluded dwellings, but perceiving the company of
samurai, speedily put up their paper shutters, and made believe to be
not at home. For the two-sword man was apt to ape the vices of his
betters, and leave behind a trail of ruin such as marks the passage of
the locust.
Sampei was too busy with his own thoughts--which were gloomy enough,
in sooth--to take heed of those he passed; and even if he had done so,
would probably have failed to recognise an elderly pedestrian, who
glared with hate from under beetle-brows, at the young noble riding
by. Having forgotten even the name of the luckless Mine, it was not
likely that he would quickly recognise her father, clad now in dusty
pilgrim garb of white, and wide mushroom hat of rice straw. For
Koshiu, true to his resolve, was also going to Ki[^y]oto to watch
events, and fulfil, if need were, his self-imposed and dangerous
mission. Like all fervent worshippers of Buddha, the sturdy farmer had
no fear of death; like other natives of Japan, he was eminently
superstitious. Among the Asiatic poor, where ceaseless drudgery,
and hunger never fully satisfied, are the common lot; where the
tax-gatherer and the avaricious noble are the representatives of
government; where earthquake and typhoon cause the forces of nature to
be feared as malignant influences; life is not so pleasant as to cause
the earthly wayfarer to long for its continuance.
The announcement of the Christian dogma that "the gift of God is
eternal life," would rather pain than delight a Japanese, for to him
life in any form is to be dreaded--not because death is at the end of
it, but because another birth and death must follow (possibly more
painful still)--then other births and deaths--links in a long and
weary chain, before attaining the ultimate haven. The moral pang that
may possibly attend decease, consists in the parting from those whom
he holds dear, and will, save under miraculous circumstances, never
see again; for the Christian hope of meeting in a better world finds
place but rarely in the Buddhist's mind. The chief deity, if slow and
somniferous was just, and would (Koshiu argued) surely protect the
family of him who was sacrificed for the common weal. There is a
temple even now at Ki[^y]oto, standing on a dizzy height, whose
terrace is protected by a strong pallisade, for, unless prevented, it
is the practice of the faithful to crave a boon of the god, then fling
themselves over the precipice, in the firm belief that--if the boon is
to be granted--the deity will hold them scathless. It is strange that
the number of bodies shattered on the stones below should not have
shaken their faith either in the goodness or the power of the god.
Having made up his mind that, if need were, he, the humble peasant,
would invoke the sacred and mysterious Mikado's aid, Koshiu passed a
night in prayer, then washed and dressed himself in the attire common
to high and low who are engaged on a holy mission, and took a tender
farewell of his family. There was his dear wife, Kennui; his three
boys, Gennosuke, Sokei, and Kibachi, ranging in years from thirteen to
seven. Mine was unaccountably absent, but she was always a froward and
unruly maid, wild and disobedient. On this solemn occasion, however,
her father left for her a tender message of farewell, and amid the
tears and outcries of those who feared that they never again might
look on him, tore himself away.
This was on the day before Sampei's arrival,--on the morning which
followed the consultation in the farmer's dwelling. The elders, filled
with admiration for the single-minded heroism of the man whom they had
deemed slow and selfish, went with him, marshalled by Rokubei and
Zembei, to the entrance of the town, and with many blessings and
prayers, wished the traveller success.
Urged on to speed by an engrossing object, he caught up, and, strong
and stout of limb, passed the straggling array of Sampei, arriving in
the capital two days before him. The imprisoned envoys were still in
durance, he learned from one of those who had escaped, and lurked in
hiding. My lord No-Kami--orders having in heat been issued for seizure
and incarceration--had apparently forgotten their existence. The
threatened vengeance of torment had not been wreaked, and yet their
position was no pleasing one, for my lord's soldiers--the peasants
and the military class were never friendly--amused themselves with
the poor wretches, as cats play with mice--haling them out for
diversion--depriving them of drink--pretending to offer sake, and when
they held out eager hands for it, playfully pricking them with dirks.
At the relation, the blood of Koshiu boiled within him.
These men--honoured and revered at home--who had done naught save
humbly to implore redress of grievances, were being murdered
piecemeal. It mattered not that my lord had never ordered it. His
lawless myrmidons took from him their cue, satisfied that they would
not be punished. If the poor things must die, the more speedily the
better; but Koshiu swore, with oaths that terrified his listeners,
that their deaths should be avenged. Alack! Koshiu must be mad. He
prated as if himself a daimio, or a least a samurai or hatamoto! A
mosquito on a wall might as well shake a paw, and vow to avenge the
slaughter of his fellows! And then at the boldness of his speech they
shivered, considering whether it would not be more prudent to withdraw
from the society of so rash a person, and sneak back to their
crumbling homes. Of a certainty it would, for with even the Mikado
himself, the revered and mystical, the insect presumed to find fault.
Next he would be falling foul of Buddha, who, putting out a finger,
would crush him--and them along with him--the blasphemer; and what
then would be their fate in the next cycle? In horror and dread they
wrung their hands, and banged their apologetic foreheads on the floor,
and, drawing forth beads, told them with feverish rapidity.
These were the words that entered their astounded ears. "For
generations stretching back into the shadow of time," the over-bold
farmer said, "has our master dwelt behind a screen, looked on by no
eyes but those of the kuges and his attendants. Nothing outside the
screen penetrates to him save through the mouths of these. Being a
mortal, if a highly-privileged one, he cannot see all, like Buddha,
himself unseen. We are his, and we revere him, but he knows naught of
us, and can know naught, secluded and fenced about, and thereby
neglects his duty--for even he has duties; and if, which is unhappily
true, the latter-day Mikados have been evilly entreated and dethroned
and sent into banishment, 'tis by reason of this sin, and the vile
Hojos have been but instruments of retribution in the hand of an
offended deity."
What subversive doctrines were these uttered by a presuming pigmy? The
horror-stricken elders glanced furtively one at the other with the
same thought. Instead of a possible saviour, this man was a firebrand
who would involve others in his well-merited ruin. Perchance it would
be well to betray him at once to my lord No-Kami, and thereby earn
their pardon? Koshiu read their thoughts, and sighed, wishing them no
evil. The views of the sturdy farmer were beyond them. As well talk to
the trees--better, for the leaves would not shake with terror, and
consider the expediency of treachery. He resolved to shut up his
opinions therefore within his own bosom, and calmly discussed, without
further blasphemy, what the next move should be.
As there was no possibility of, for the present at least, making any
move at all, they were still idly chattering when, a few days later,
they were startled by the appearance of the very envoys whose rescue
was under discussion. They were thin, and gnarled, and haggard, and
wrinkled--but then a Japanese peasant over the age of twenty is never
a pretty object--yet in health seemed well enough. The tale of the
sake and dirks must have been the invention of the foe. And yet to
Koshiu these village elders looked suspiciously meek and lowly, more
so than the humblest peasant should; indeed their bearing was not
unlike that of a mongrel dog, that still smarts under severe
correction. At first it was impossible to get anything out of them but
fawning praise of the Hojo, uttered in trembling accents, in which
fear battled with incoherence. Hojo was excellent and merciful. Had he
not deigned to forgive their unpardonable sin, and set them free
unhurt? Let them live under their own hats and be content, he had
declared. If there were any noble individuals more admirable than the
gracious lord No-Kami--and that was scarcely possible--those two were
their liege lady and the General Sampei; for 'twas through the
intervention of these that my lord had condescended to remember the
existence of his humblest tenants, who might otherwise have been still
in duress.
With lowering brow Koshiu looked upon his fellows, for these cringing,
spirit-broken villagers belonged to the same class as he. Were they
worth saving, at the risk of his own life? And then a vision of the
misery at Tsu, the growing suffering of all down-trodden Japan, rose
upon his vision. No-Kami, thanks to the pleading of his wife and
brother, had been pleased, after outrage and ignominy, to release the
men who had committed no crime. But what of their petition? The
petition? Let it go hang! The well-whipped hounds preferred that the
subject should be dropped. How ill-timed was any mention of the
petition. It had brought nothing but trouble--the less said about it
the better. All they desired was to depart with speed. The sportive
samurai might swoop again. Baring their arms, the envoys showed their
wounds. The story of the sake was true, then. Little wonder if the
starved wretches had had enough of the facetious horseplay of the
soldiers.
Koshiu paced the mat with folded arms. Yes, they were right, and had
better go and save their wizened carcases. Here they were of no
service, only butts for scoffers. My lady O'Tei all knew to be an
angel; but that the newly-arrived General should interest himself in
peasants, was curious; and then the thought flashed suddenly on the
indignant father that the absence of Mine from her home had coincided
with the arrival of Sampei. Her tender pronunciation of his name, and
constant championship, recurred to his memory, and he shrank as from
strokes of the bamboo. As profligate as all the Hojos, he had, of
course, signalled his return by the seduction of an innocent and
too-trusting maiden, who, by-and-by, he would fling away. Perhaps from
out that curtained kago on the road his erring daughter may have
peeped at him. If it were so, never, never would he forgive his child.
Had he not warned her of his undying hatred of Hojos, of all connected
with bloodthirsty brutal tyrants? With difficulty controlling his
emotions, while his comrades more than ever deemed him dangerously
insane, he told them they were right. Since they could serve no
further purpose, they had better go back to Tsu, and speedily. For his
own part, he would remain, and bide his time, and, when opportunity
offered, present the petition to the Emperor.
And so, after a sad and parting feast, the band of elders returned to
their place, and Koshiu dwelt alone, brooding over his wrongs, over
the oppression of his class, and the ruin of his daughter, while his
family bewailed at home. His impression was that the Mikado's
supineness rose not from weakness but from indifference, out of which
he might be roused. One day arrived a pedlar with news from Tsu, and a
melancholy message from his wife, the faithful Kennui, which
completely satisfied his mind that his suspicions were but too well
founded. Mine had never again sought the legitimate shelter of her
parents' roof, but was dwelling, if report spoke truly, with the
mother of Sampei. Even she, then, the peasant-born, suffered under the
taint which enveloped that hated race. The Abbess, who pretended to be
pious, could stoop to shield his daughter's infamy, and give shelter
to the mistress of her son. Poor soul, had she not been herself a
concubine, and debased by pernicious surroundings? Ah, but the
position of second wife--acknowledged concubine--was different from
that of his own degraded daughter. No fixed position was hers, of
course, or ever would be, since she had been so misguided as to throw
herself into her lover's arms. And when he was weary of her? It would
not bear thinking of, for Koshiu in his way was proud as any noble.
Sampei and his mother were as bad as the rest, worthy to wear the
cognisance of Hojo. The longer the farmer brooded, the harder grew his
heart, the more bitter his resentment, and he hailed with fierce joy
the news, at last, that the Mikado was to visit Nara.
It was a solemn ceremony the pilgrimage of the Emperor to the Sacred
Groves of Nara, one which, although the distance was short, he was
expected to perform but once or twice during his career. Unlike lesser
magnates, who were content with kagos--litters, more or less
sumptuous, borne on men's shoulders--the Mikado travelled in a
ponderous carriage on huge cumbrous wheels, its roof thatched with the
long grey straws of a peculiar grass, its wood-work elaborately
lacquered with the imperial crest, its windows closely curtained with
the finest matting, which flapped with many tassels. The progress of
so unwieldy a machine over a primitive road was slow. In front went a
bodyguard on foot, followed by soldiers on horseback; then came the
weighty kagos of the kuges in attendance, brave with banners and
devices; then the Mikado's swaying uneasy carriage, drawn by eight
horses in broidered housings; then more heavy litters and more
soldiers, and a long straggling tail like that of a kite, composed of
servants and rabble. It took many hours to penetrate through the
tortuous and squalid suburbs of the capital, consisting for the most
part of the shops of pawnbrokers and vendors of cheap toys and idols,
jutting at will into the road, the procession stopped from time to
time by hosts of the faithful on their faces.
Once free of buildings, the imperial _cortege_ advanced by a wide way
straight as an arrow across a plain devoted to the cultivation of tea,
and by nightfall reached Uji. Here there was a villa overhanging with
wide, wooden balconies a rushing stream--the Uji-Kawa, which rises in
lake Biwa--spanned by a semicircular bridge formed of an intricate
network of heavy timbers, for in winter this river swells into a
torrent, sweeping all that is weak before it. This villa was for the
special use of the sovereign, as might be guessed, from its lack of
adornment. So high is the Mikado, that, in a general way, he is above
the employment of ornament. His villas and summer-houses (unlike those
of his brother of China) are as conspicuous for simplicity as his
dress. Everything is of the very best that skill can produce, the
woodwork of the very finest which the hand of man can command, the
mats trimmed with a red and white braid forbidden to other men. His
eyes look upon no pictures or porcelains or bronzes, for to one who
communes at will with deities or spirits, and may peep even sometimes
into Nirvana, such trivialities are, of course, superfluous. In the
Imperial Palace of Ki[^y]oto it is different, for there he deigns to
associate in a degree with mere common nobles and wives, to whom
austere simplicity would be depressing if not soul-withering. In this
villa, the Emperor, by time-honoured custom, was to pass the night,
his _cortege_ camping around for the protection of the sacred person.
Now Koshiu, whose object in life was the presenting of a memorial
which should lead to the abrogation of imposts, and the holding up of
the Hojos to deserved obloquy, knew right well that there was no
reaching the imperial ear, either in Ki[^y]oto or on the road to Uji,
by reason of a throng of guards. During the next day's route over the
mountains, on the other side of which was Nara, the cumbrous carriage
would be prevented from toppling over by myriad hands pressed on
either wheel, but the brilliant idea had occurred to the farmer that
in crossing the timber bridge, whose width was just sufficient for the
passage of the vehicle, there would be none to defend either of the
curtained windows, the guards of necessity passing on in front or
dropping behind until the stream was crossed, and that here lay his
only chance. In the night therefore, after prayers and ablutions, he
took advantage of the darkness to swim into mid-stream unnoticed, and
being washed against one of the pillars, to make good his footing, and
climbing on the bridge, to secrete himself under a convenient shadow.
Then with his knife he pruned a long bamboo, split it at the top, and
inserting the memorial therein, awaited day.
The journey was yet long to Nara, and over the mountains fraught with
possible disaster, so all were early astir. With wildly-beating heart
and throbbing temples Koshiu heard the clatter of horses overhead, the
rhythmed step of infantry, and then the thunder of the great wheels
grinding under their heavy load. Now or never. Calculating his time to
a nicety, the farmer nimbly climbed upon the parapet, and before the
astonished guards could stop him, lifted a corner of the mat, and
inserting his bamboo, cried in a loud voice,--
"Take, O great Mikado! Fountain of Honour, this the petition of your
humblest slave. Have pity on your people, O sovereign lord, ground
down by the wicked Hojo!"
The driver of the horses, aghast, stopped open-mouthed; the cavalcade
stood still; the guards, with a yell, dashed clambering forward, to
fling into the stream this audacious one, riddled with sword-thrusts;
but the old Daimio of Nara, who, disdaining a kago, rode close behind,
spurred quickly through the men, and, raising both hands, bade them
refrain. He had caught the words "wicked Hojo," saw that what might
have been a spear was already withdrawn, and was no more than a cleft
stick, and guessed the purport of the attempt.
"'Tis a petition," Nara cried. "Our imperial lord already holds the
man's paper in his sacred hand. It is for him, and not for us, to
decide upon his fate."
Clutched by a dozen fists, Koshiu remained poised and stifled on the
parapet, and presently a low voice issued from the shadow.
"I will read the petition on my return from the sacred groves. Keep
the man close and safe. See that no harm comes to him."
The Daimio of Nara, with a cunning smile lurking about his lips, gave
orders that the pilgrim should be safely conducted to his own private
apartment in the palace, and then the ponderous procession moved on
again, and crawled up the mountain.