the Fujiwara clan. Here he spent his days in military exercises and the
chase, and by the time he was twenty-one had gained a reputation as a
soldier of great valor and consummate skill, and as a warrior in whom
the true spirit of chivalry seemed inborn. A youth of such honor,
virtue, courage, and martial fire Japan had rarely known.
In the war that soon arose between Yoritomo and the Taira the youthful
Bayard served his brother well. Kiyomori, in sparing the sons of the
Minamoto chief, had left alive the two ablest of all who bore that name.
So great were the skill and valor of the young warrior that his brother,
on the rebellion of Yoshinaka, made Yoshitsune commander of the army of
the west, and sent him against the rebellious general, who was quickly
defeated and slain.
But the Taira, though they had been driven from the capital, had still
many adherents in the land, and were earnestly endeavoring to raise an
army in the south and west. Unfortunately for them, they had a leader to
deal with who knew the value of celerity. Yoshitsune laid siege to the
fortified palace of Fukuwara, within which the Taira leaders lay
intrenched, and pushed the siege with such energy that in a short time
the palace was taken and in flames. Those who escaped fled to the castle
of Yashima, which their active enemy also besieged and burned. As a last
refuge the Taira leaders made their way to the Straits of Shimonoseki,
where they had a large fleet of junks.
The final struggle in this war took place in the fourth month of the
year 1185. Yoshitsune had with all haste got together a fleet, and the
two armies, now afloat, met on the waters of the strait for the greatest
naval battle that Japan had ever known. The Taira fleet consisted of
five hundred vessels, which held not only the fighting men, but their
mothers, wives, and children, among them the dethroned mikado, a child
six years of age. The Minamoto fleet was composed of seven hundred
junks, containing none but men.
In the battle that followed, the young leader of the Minamoto showed the
highest intrepidity. The fight began with a fierce onset from the Taira,
which drove back their foe. With voice and example Yoshitsune encouraged
his men. For an interval the combat lulled. Then Wada, a noted archer,
shot an arrow which struck the junk of a Taira chief.
"Shoot it back!" cried the chief.
An archer plucked it from the wood, fitted it to his bow, and let it fly
at the Minamoto fleet. The shaft grazed the helmet of one warrior and
pierced the breast of another.
"Shoot it back!" cried Yoshitsune.
"It is short and weak," said Wada, plucking it from the dead man's
breast. Taking a longer shaft from his quiver, he shot it with such
force and sureness of aim that it passed through the armor and flesh of
the Taira bowman and fell into the sea beyond. Yoshitsune emptied his
quiver with similar skill, each arrow finding a victim, and soon the
tide of battle turned.
Treason aided the Minamoto in their victory. In the vessel containing
the son, widow, and daughter of Kiyomori, and the young mikado, was a
friend of Yoshitsune, who had agreed upon a signal by which this junk
could be known. In the height of the struggle the signal appeared.
Yoshitsune at once ordered a number of captains to follow with their
boats, and bore down on this central vessel of the Taira fleet.
Soon the devoted vessel was surrounded by hostile junks, and armed men
leaped in numbers on its deck. A Taira man sprang upon Yoshitsune, sword
in hand, but he saved his life by leaping to another junk, while his
assailant plunged to death in the encrimsoned waves. Down went the Taira
nobles before the swords of their assailants. The widow of Kiyomori,
determined not to be taken alive, seized the youthful mikado and leaped
into the sea. Munemori, Kiyomori's son and the head of the Taira house,
was taken, with many nobles and ladies of the court.
Still the battle went on. Ship after ship of the Taira fleet, their
sides crushed by the prows of their opponents, sunk beneath the reddened
waters. Others were boarded and swept clear of defenders by the sword.
Hundreds perished, women and children as well as men. Hundreds more were
taken captive. The waters of the sea, that morning clear and sparkling,
were now the color of blood, and the pride of the Taira clan lay buried
beneath the waves or were cast up by the unquiet waters upon the strand.
With that fatal day the Taira vanished from the sight of men.
Yoritomo gave the cruel order that no male of that hated family should
be left alive, and armed murderers sought them out over hill and vale,
slaying remorselessly all that could be traced. In Kioto many boy
children of the clan were found, all of whom were slain. A few of the
Taira name escaped from the fleet and fled to Kiushiu, where they hid in
the lurking-places of the mountains. There, in poverty and pride, their
descendants still survive, having remained unknown in the depths of
their covert until about a century ago.
The story of Yoshitsune, which began in such glory, ends in treachery
and ingratitude. Yoritomo envied the brother to whose valor his power
was largely due. Hatred replaced the love which should have filled his
heart, and he was ready to believe any calumny against the noble young
soldier.
One Kajiwara, a military adviser in the army, grew incensed at
Yoshitsune for acting against his advice, and hastened to Yoritomo with
lies and slanders. The shogun, too ready to believe these stories,
forbade Yoshitsune to enter the city on his return with the spoils of
victory. The youthful victor wrote him a touching letter, which is still
extant, recounting his toils and dangers, and appealing for justice and
the clearance from suspicion of his fair fame.
Weary of waiting, he went to Kioto, where he found himself pursued by
assassins. He escaped into Yamato, but was again pursued. Once more he
escaped and concealed himself, but spies traced him out and the son of
his host tried to murder him.
What finally became of the hero is not known. The popular belief is that
he killed himself with his own hand, after slaying his wife and
children. Some believe that he escaped to Yezo, where for years he dwelt
among the Ainos, who to-day worship his spirit and have erected a shrine
over what they claim to be his grave. The preposterous story is even
advanced that he fled to Asia and became the great Mongol conqueror
Genghis Khan.
Whatever became of him, his name is immortal in Japan. Every Japanese
youth looks upon the youthful martyr as the ideal hero of his race, his
form and deeds are glorified in art and song, and while a martial
thought survives in Japan the name of this Bayard of the island empire
will be revered.
_THE HOJO TYRANNY._
Under the rule of Yoritomo Japan had two capitals and two governments,
the mikado ruling at Kioto, the shogun at Kamakura, the magnificent city
which Yoritomo had founded. The great family of the Minamoto was now
supreme, all its rivals being destroyed. A special tax for the support
of the troops yielded a large revenue to the shoguns; courts were
established at Kamakura; the priests, who had made much trouble, were
disarmed; a powerful permanent army was established; a military chief
was placed in each province beside the civil governor, and that military
government was founded which for nearly seven centuries robbed the
mikado of all but the semblance of power. Thus it came that the shogun,
or the tycoon as he afterwards named himself, appeared to be the emperor
of Japan.
We have told how Yoritomo, once a poor exile, became the lord of the
empire. After conquering all his enemies he visited Kioto, where he
astonished the court of the mikado by the splendor of his retinue and
the magnificence of his military shows, athletic games, and ceremonial
banquets. The two rulers exchanged the costliest presents, the emperor
conferred all authority upon the general, and when Yoritomo returned to
his capital city he held in his control the ruling power of the realm.
All generals were called shoguns, but he was _the_ shogun, his title
being Sei-i Tai Shogun (Barbarian-subjugating Great General). Though
really a vassal of the emperor, he wielded the power of the emperor
himself, and from 1192 until 1868 the mikados were insignificant puppets
and the shoguns the real lords of the land. Such was the strange
progress of political evolution in Japan. The mikado was still emperor,
but the holders of this title lay buried in sloth or religious
fanaticism and let their subordinates rule.
And now we have another story to tell concerning this strange political
evolution. As the shoguns became paramount over the mikados, so did the
Hojo, the regents of the shoguns, become paramount over them, and for
nearly one hundred and fifty years these vassals of a vassal were the
virtual emperors of Japan. This condition of affairs gives a curious
complication to the history of that country.
In a previous tale it has been said that the father of Masago, the
beautiful wife of the exiled prince, was named Hojo Tokimasa. He was a
man of ability and was much esteemed and trusted by his son-in-law.
After the death of Yoritomo and the accession of his son, Tokimasa
became chief of the council of state, and brought up the young shogun in
idleness and dissipation, wielding the power in his name. When the boy
reached manhood and began to show ambition to rule, Tokimasa had him
exiled to a temple and soon after assassinated. His brother, then twelve
years old, succeeded as shogun. He cared nothing for power, but much for
enjoyment, and the Hojo let him live his life of pleasure while they
held the control of affairs. In the end he was murdered by the son of
the slain shogun, who was in his turn killed by a soldier, and thus the
family of Yoritomo became extinct.
From that time forward the Hojo continued preeminent. They were able
men, and governed the country well. The shoguns were chosen by them from
the Minamoto clan, boys being selected, some of them but two or three
years old, who were deposed as soon as they showed a desire to rule. The
same was the case with the mikados, who were also creatures of the Hojo
clan. One of them who had been deposed raised an army and fought for his
throne. He was defeated and exiled to a distant monastery. Others were
deposed, and neither mikados nor shoguns were permitted to reign except
as puppets in the hands of the powerful regents of the realm.
None of the Hojo ever claimed the office of shogun. They were content to
serve as the power behind the throne. As time went on, the usual result
of such a state of affairs showed itself. The able men of the Hojo
family were followed by weak and vicious ones. Their tyranny and
misgovernment grew unbearable. They gave themselves up to luxury and
debauchery, oppressed the people by taxes to obtain means for their
costly pleasures, and crushed beneath their oppressive rule the emperor,
the shogun, and the people alike. Their cup of vice and tyranny at
length overflowed. The day of retribution was at hand.
The son of the mikado Go-Daigo was the first to rebel. His plans were
discovered by spies, and his father ordered him to retire to a
monastery, in which, however, he continued to plot revenge. Go-Daigo
himself next struck for the power of which he possessed but the name.
Securing the aid of the Buddhist priests, he fortified Kasagi, a
stronghold in Yamato. He failed in his effort. In the following year
(1331) an army attacked and took Kasagi, and the emperor was taken
prisoner and banished to Oki.
Connected with his exile is a story of much dramatic interest. While
Go-Daigo was being borne in a palanquin to his place of banishment,
under a guard of soldiers, Kojima, a young noble of his party, attempted
his rescue. Gathering a party of followers, he occupied a pass in the
hills through which he expected that the train would make its way. But
another pass was taken, and he waited in vain.
Learning their mistake, his followers, disheartened by their failure,
deserted him. But the faithful vassal cautiously followed the train,
making various efforts to approach and whisper hope to the imperial
exile. He was prevented by the vigilance of the guard, and finally,
finding that either rescue or speech was hopeless, he hit upon a plan to
baffle the vigilance of the guards and let the emperor know that friends
were still at work in his behalf.
Under the shadows of night he secretly entered the garden of the inn
where the party was resting, and there scraped off the outer bark of a
cherry-tree, laying bare the smooth white layer within. On this he
wrote the following stanza:
"O Heaven, destroy not Kosen
While Hanrei still lives."
The next morning the soldiers noticed the writing on the tree. Curious
to learn its meaning, but unable to read, they showed it to their
prisoner, who, being familiar with the quotation, caught, with an
impulse of joy, its concealed significance. Kosen was an ancient king of
China who had been deposed and made prisoner, but was afterwards
restored to power by his faithful follower Hanrei. Glad to learn that
loyal friends were seeking his release, the emperor went to his lonely
exile with renewed hope. Kojima afterwards died on the battle-field
during the war for the restoration of the exiled mikado.
[Illustration: LETTER-WRITING IN JAPAN.]
But another valiant soldier was soon in the field in the interest of the
exile. Nitta Yoshisada, a captain of the Hojo forces, had been sent to
besiege Kusunoki, a vassal of the mikado, who held a stronghold for his
imperial lord. Nitta, roused by conscience to a sense of his true duty,
refused to fight against the emperor, deserted from the army, and,
obtaining a commission from Go-Daigo's son, who was concealed in the
mountains, he returned to his native place, raised the standard of
revolt against the Hojo, and soon found himself at the head of a
considerable force.
In thirteen days after raising the banner of revolt in favor of the
mikado he reached the vicinity of Kamakura, acting under the advice of
his brother, who counselled him to beard the lion in his den. The
tyranny of the Hojo had spread far and wide the spirit of rebellion, and
thousands flocked to the standard of the young general,--a long white
pennant, near whose top were two bars of black, and under them a circle
bisected with a zone of black.
On the eve of the day fixed for the attack on the city, Nitta stood on
the sea-shore in front of his army, before him the ocean with blue
islands visible afar, behind him lofty mountain peaks, chief among them
the lordly Fusiyama. Here, removing his helmet, he uttered the following
words:
"Our heavenly son [the mikado] has been deposed by his traitorous
subject, and is now an exile afar in the west. I have not been able to
look on this act unmoved, and have come to punish the traitors in yonder
city by the aid of these loyal troops. I humbly pray you, O god of the
ocean waves, to look into the purposes of my heart. If you favor me and
my cause, then bid the tide to ebb and open a path beside the sea."
With these words he drew his sword and cast it with all his strength
into the water. For a moment the golden hilt gleamed in the rays of the
setting sun, and then the blade sank from sight. But with the dawn of
the next day the soldiers saw with delight that there had been a great
ebb in the tide, and that the dry strand offered a wide high-road past
the rocky girdle that enclosed Kamakura. With triumphant shouts they
marched along this ocean path, following a leader whom they now believed
to be the chosen avenger of the gods.
From two other sides the city of the shogun was attacked. The defence
was as fierce as the assault, but everywhere victory rested upon the
white banner of loyalty. Nitta's army pressed resistlessly forward, and
the Hojo found themselves defeated and their army destroyed. Fire
completed what the sword had begun, destructive flames attacked the
frame dwellings of the city, and in a few hours the great capital of the
shoguns and their powerful regents was a waste of ashes.
Many of the vassals of the Hojo killed themselves rather than surrender,
among them a noble named Ando, whose niece was Nitta's wife. She wrote
him a letter begging him to surrender.
"My niece is the daughter of a samurai house," the old man indignantly
exclaimed. "How can she make so shameless a request? And why did Nitta,
who is himself a samurai, permit her to do so?" Wrapping the letter
around his sword, he plunged the blade into his body and fell dead.
While Nitta was winning this signal victory, others were in arms for the
mikado elsewhere, and everywhere the Hojo power went down. The people in
all sections of the empire rose against the agents of the tyrants and
put them to death, many thousands of the Hojo clan being slain and their
power utterly destroyed. They had ruled Japan from the death of
Yoritomo, in 1199, to 1333. They have since been execrated in Japan, the
feeling of the people being displayed in their naming one of the
destructive insects of the island the Hojo bug. Yet among the Hojo were
many able rulers, and under them the empire was kept in peace and order
for over a century, while art and literature flourished and many of the
noblest monuments of Japanese architecture arose.
Go-Daigo was now recalled from exile and replaced on the imperial
throne. For the first time for centuries the mikado had come to his own
and held the power of the empire in his hands. With judgment and
discretion he might have restored the old government of Japan.
But he lacked those important qualities, and quickly lost the power he
had won. After a passing gleam of its old splendor the mikadoate sank
into eclipse again.
Go-Daigo was ruined by listening to a flatterer, whom he raised to the
highest power, while he rewarded those who had rescued him with
unimportant domains. A fierce war followed, in which Ashikaga, the
flatterer, was the victor, defeating and destroying his foes. Go-Daigo
had pronounced him a rebel. In return he was himself deposed, and a new
emperor, whom the usurper could control, was raised to the vacant
throne. For three years only had the mikado remained supreme. Then for a
long period the Ashikagas held the reins of power, and a tyranny like
that of the Hojo existed in the land.
_THE TARTAR INVASION OF JAPAN._
In all its history only one serious effort has been made to conquer the
empire of Japan. It ended in such dire disaster to the invaders that no
nation has ever repeated it. During the thirteenth century Asia was
thrown into turmoil by the dreadful outbreak of the Mongol Tartars under
the great conqueror Genghis Khan. Nearly all Asia was overrun, Russia
was subdued, China was conquered, and envoys were sent to Japan
demanding tribute and homage to the great khan.
Six times the demand was made, and six times refused. Then an army of
ten thousand men was sent to Japan, but was soon driven from the country
in defeat. Kublai Khan, the Mongol emperor of China, now sent nine
envoys to the shogun, bidding them to stay until they received an answer
to his demand. They stayed much longer than he intended, for the Hojo,
who were then in power, cut off their heads. Once again the Chinese
emperor sent to demand tribute, and once again the heads of the envoys
were severed from their bodies.
Acts like these could have only one result, and the Japanese made rapid
preparations to meet the great power which had conquered Asia. A large
army was levied, forts and defences were put in order, stores gathered
in great quantities, and weapons and munitions of war abundantly
prepared. A fleet of junks was built, and all the resources of the
empire were employed. Japan, though it had waged no wars abroad, had
amply learned the art of war from its frequent hostilities at home, and
was well provided with brave soldiers and skilful generals. The khan was
not likely to find its conquest an easy task.
While the islanders were thus busy, their foes were as actively engaged.
The proud emperor had made up his mind to crush this little realm that
so insolently defied his power. A great fleet was made ready, containing
thirty-five hundred vessels in all, in which embarked an army of one
hundred thousand Chinese and Tartars and seven thousand Corean troops.
It was the seventh month of the year 1281 when the expectant sentinels
of Japan caught the glint of the sun's rays on the far-off throng of
sails, which whitened the seas as they came on with streaming banners
and the warlike clang of brass and steel.
The army of Japan, which lay encamped on the hills back of the fortified
city of Daizaifu, in the island of Kiushiu, and gathered in ranks along
the adjoining coast, gazed with curiosity and dread on this mighty
fleet, far the largest they had ever seen. Many of the vessels were of
enormous size, as it seemed to their unaccustomed eyes, and were armed
with engines of war such as they had never before beheld. The light
boats of the Japanese had little hope of success against these huge
junks, and many of those that ventured from shelter were sunk by the
darts and stones flung from the Mongol catapults. The enemy could not be
matched upon the sea; it remained to prevent him from setting foot upon
shore.
Yet the courage and daring of the island warriors could not be
restrained. A party of thirty swam out and boarded a junk, where their
keen-edged swords proved more than a match for the Tartar bows and
spears, so that they returned with the heads of the crew. A second party
tried to repeat a like adventure, but the Tartars were now on the alert
and killed them all. One captain, with a picked crew, steered out in
broad daylight to a Chinese junk, heedless of a shower of darts, one of
which took off his arm. In a minute more he and his men were on the deck
and were driving back the crew in a fierce hand-to-hand encounter.
Before other vessels of the fleet could come up, they had fired the
captured junk and were off again, bearing with them twenty-one heads of
the foe.
To prevent such attacks all advanced boats were withdrawn and the fleet
was linked together with iron chains, while with catapults and great
bows heavy darts and stones were showered on approaching Japanese boats,
sinking many of them and destroying their crews. But all efforts of the
Tartars to land were bravely repulsed, and such detachments as reached
the shore were driven into the sea before they could prepare for
defence, over two thousand of the enemy falling in these preliminary
attempts. With the utmost haste a long line of fortifications,
consisting of earthworks and palisades, had been thrown up for miles
along the shore, and behind these defences the island soldiers defied
their foes.
Among the defenders was a captain, Michiari by name, whose hatred of the
Mongols led him to a deed of the most desperate daring. Springing over
the breastworks, he defied the barbarians to mortal combat. Then,
filling two boats with others as daring as himself, he pushed out to the
fleet.
Both sides looked on in amazement. "Is the man mad?" said the Japanese.
"Are those two little boats coming to attack our whole fleet?" asked the
Mongols. "They must be deserters, who are coming to surrender."
Under this supposition the boats were permitted to approach unharmed,
their course being directed towards a large Tartar junk. A near approach
being thus made, grappling-irons were flung out, and in a minute more
the daring assailants were leaping on board the junk.
Taken by surprise, the Tartars were driven back, the two-handed
keen-edged swords of the assailants making havoc in their ranks. The
crew made what defence they could, but the sudden and unlooked-for
assault had put them at disadvantage, and before the adjoining ships
could come to their aid the junk was in flames and the boats of the
victors had put off for land. With them as prisoner they carried one of
the highest officers in the invading fleet.