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MYTHS & LEGENDS OF JAPAN
by
F. HADLAND DAVIS
Author of "The Land of the Yellow Spring and Other Japanese Stories"
"The Persian Mystics" etc.
With Thirty-Two Full-Page Illustrations by Evelyn Paul
London
George G. Harrap & Company
9, Portsmouth Street, Kingsway, W. C.
1912
[Illustration: The Lovers who exchanged Fans.
_Fr_. (_See page_ 245)]
DEDICATED TO
MY WIFE
PREFACE
In writing _Myths and Legends of Japan_ I have been much indebted to
numerous authorities on Japanese subjects, and most especially to
Lafcadio Hearn, who first revealed to me the Land of the Gods. It
is impossible to enumerate all the writers who have assisted me in
preparing this volume. I have borrowed from their work as persistently
as Japan has borrowed from other countries, and I sincerely hope
that, like Japan herself, I have made good use of the material I have
obtained from so many sources.
I am indebted to Professor Basil Hall Chamberlain for placing his work
at my disposal, and I have found his encyclopædic volume, _Things
Japanese_, his translation of the _Kojiki_, his _Murray's Hand-book for
Japan_ (in collaboration with W. B. Mason), and his _Japanese Poetry_,
of great value. I thank the Executors of the late Dr. W. G. Aston for
permission to quote from this learned authority's work. I have made
use of his translation of the _Nihongi_ (_Transactions of the Japan
Society_, 1896) and have gathered much useful material from _A History
of Japanese Literature_. I am indebted to Mr. F. Victor Dickins for
allowing me to make use of his translation of the _Taketori Monogatari_
and the _Ho-jō-ki_. My friend Mrs. C. M. Salwey has taken a sympathetic
interest in my work, which has been invaluable to me. Her book, _Fans
of Japan_, has supplied me with an exquisite legend, and many of her
articles have yielded a rich harvest. I warmly thank Mr. Yone Noguchi
for allowing me to quote from his poetry, and also Miss Clara A. Walsh
for so kindly putting at my disposal her fascinating volume, _The
Master-Singers of Japan_, published by Mr. John Murray in the "Wisdom
of the East" series. My thanks are due to Messrs. Houghton, Mifflin
Company, for allowing me to quote from Lafcadio Hearn's _Glimpses of
Unfamiliar Japan_ and _The Japanese Letters of Lafcadio Hearn_; to
Messrs. George Allen & Sons, for giving me permission to quote from
Sir F. T. Piggott's _Garden of Japan_; to the Editor of the _Academy_,
for permitting me to reprint my article on "Japanese Poetry," and to
Messrs. Cassell and Co. Ltd., for allowing me to reproduce "The Garden
of Japan," which I originally contributed to _Cassell's Magazine_. The
works of Dr. William Anderson, Sir Ernest Satow, Lord Redesdale, Madame
Ozaki, Mr. R. Gordon Smith, Captain F. Brinkley, the late Rev. Arthur
Lloyd, Mr. Henri L. Joly, Mr. K. Okakura, the Rev. W. E. Griffis, and
others, have been of immense value to me, and in addition I very warmly
thank all those writers I have left unnamed, through want of space,
whose works have assisted me in the preparation of this volume.
CONTENTS
Introduction
I. The Period of the Gods
II. Heroes and Warriors
III. The Bamboo-cutter and the Moon-maiden
IV. Buddha Legends
V. Fox Legends
VI. Jizō, the God of Children
VII. Legend in Japanese Art
VIII. The Star Lovers and the Robe of Feathers
IX. Legends of Mount Fuji
X. Bells
XI. Yuki-onna, the Lady of the Snow
XII. Flowers and Gardens
XIII. Trees
XIV. Mirrors
XV. Kwannon and Benten. Daikoku, Ebisu, and Hotei
XVI. Dolls and Butterflies
XVII. Festivals
XVIII. The Peony-lantern
XIX. Kōbō Daishi, Nichiren, and Shōdō Shonin
XX. Fans
XXI. Thunder
XXII. Animal Legends
XXIII. Bird and Insect Legends
XXIV. Concerning Tea
XXV. Legends of the Weird
XXVI. Three Maidens
XXVII. Legends of the Sea
XXVIII. Superstitions
XXIX. Supernatural Beings
XXX. The Transformation of Issunboshi and Kintaro, The Golden Boy
XXXI. Miscellaneous Legends
A Note on Japanese Poetry
Gods and Goddesses
Genealogy of the Age of the Gods
Bibliography
Index of Poetical Quotations
Glossary and Index
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
The Lovers who exchanged Fans _Frontispiece_
Uzume awakens the Curiosity of Ama-terasu
Susa-no-o and Kushi-nada-hime
Hoori and the Sea God's Daughter
Yorimasa slays the Vampire
Yorimasa and Benkei attacked by a ghostly company of the Taira Clan
Raiko and the Enchanted Maiden
Raiko slays the Goblin of Oyeyama
Prince Yamato and Takeru
Momotaro and the Pheasant
Hidesato and the Centipede
The Moonfolk demand the Lady Kaguya
Buddha and the Dragon
The Mikado and the Jewel Maiden
Jizō
A Kakemono Ghost
Sengen, the Goddess of Mount Fuji
Visu on Mount Fuji-Yama
Kiyo and the Priest
Yuki-Onna, the Lady of the Snow
Shingé and Yoshisawa by the Violet Well
Matsu rescues Teoyo
Shinzaburō recognised Tsuyu and her maid Yoné
The Jelly-Fish and the Monkey
The Firefly Battle
Hōïchi-the-Earless
The Maiden of Unai
Urashima and the Sea King's Daughter
Tokoyo and the Sea Serpent
The Kappa and his Victim
Kato Sayemon in his Palace of the Shōgun Ashikaga
Tōtarō and Samébito
INTRODUCTION
Pierre Loti in _Madame Chrysanthème_, Gilbert and Sullivan in _The
Mikado_, and Sir Edwin Arnold in _Seas and Lands_, gave us the
impression that Japan was a real fairyland in the Far East. We were
delighted with the prettiness and quaintness of that country, and
still more with the prettiness and quaintness of the Japanese people.
We laughed at their topsy-turvy ways, regarded the Japanese woman, in
her rich-coloured _kimono_, as altogether charming and fascinating,
and had a vague notion that the principal features of Nippon were the
tea-houses, cherry-blossom, and _geisha_. Twenty years ago we did not
take Japan very seriously. We still listen to the melodious music of
_The Mikado_, but now we no longer regard Japan as a sort of glorified
willow-pattern plate. The Land of the Rising Sun has become the Land of
the Risen Sun, for we have learnt that her quaintness and prettiness,
her fairy-like manners and customs, were but the outer signs of a
great and progressive nation. To-day we recognise Japan as a power in
the East, and her victory over the Russian has made her army and navy
famous throughout the world.
The Japanese have always been an imitative nation, quick to absorb and
utilise the religion, art, and social life of China, and, having set
their own national seal upon what they have borrowed from the Celestial
Kingdom, to look elsewhere for material that should strengthen and
advance their position. This imitative quality is one of Japan's most
marked characteristics. She has ever been loath to impart information
to others, but ready at all times to gain access to any form of
knowledge likely to make for her advancement. In the fourteenth century
Kenkō wrote in his _Tsure-dzure-gusa_: "Nothing opens one's eyes so
much as travel, no matter where," and the twentieth-century Japanese
has put this excellent advice into practice. He has travelled far and
wide, and has made good use of his varied observations. Japan's power
of imitation amounts to genius. East and West have contributed to her
greatness, and it is a matter of surprise to many of us that a country
so long isolated and for so many years bound by feudalism should,
within a comparatively short space of time, master our Western system
of warfare, as well as many of our ethical and social ideas, and become
a great world-power. But Japan's success has not been due entirely to
clever imitation, neither has her place among the foremost nations
been accomplished with such meteor-like rapidity as some would have us
suppose.
We hear a good deal about the New Japan to-day, and are too prone to
forget the significance of the Old upon which the present _régime_ has
been founded. Japan learnt from England, Germany and America all the
tactics of modern warfare. She established an efficient army and navy
on Western lines; but it must be remembered that Japan's great heroes
of to-day, Togo and Oyama, still have in their veins something of the
old _samurai_ spirit, still reflect through their modernity something
of the meaning of _Bushido_. The Japanese character is still Japanese
and not Western. Her greatness is to be found in her patriotism, in her
loyalty and whole-hearted love of her country. Shintōism has taught her
to revere the mighty dead; Buddhism, besides adding to her religious
ideals, has contributed to her literature and art, and Christianity has
had its effect in introducing all manner of beneficent social reforms.
There are many conflicting theories in regard to the racial origin of
the Japanese people, and we have no definite knowledge on the subject.
The first inhabitants of Japan were probably the Ainu, an Aryan people
who possibly came from North-Eastern Asia at a time when the distance
separating the Islands from the mainland was not so great as it is
to-day. The Ainu were followed by two distinct Mongol invasions, and
these invaders had no difficulty in subduing their predecessors; but
in course of time the Mongols were driven northward by Malays from
the Philippines. "By the year A.D. 500 the Ainu, the Mongol, and the
Malay elements in the population had become one nation by much the same
process as took place in England after the Norman Conquest. To the
national characteristics it may be inferred that the Ainu contributed
the power of resistance, the Mongol the intellectual qualities, and
the Malay that handiness and adaptability which are the heritage of
sailor-men."[1] Such authorities as Baelz and Rein are of the opinion
that the Japanese are Mongols, and although they have intermarried
with the Ainu, "the two nations," writes Professor B. H. Chamberlain,
"are as distinct as the whites and reds in North America." In spite of
the fact that the Ainu is looked down upon in Japan, and regarded as a
hairy aboriginal of interest to the anthropologist and the showman, a
poor despised creature, who worships the bear as the emblem of strength
and fierceness, he has, nevertheless, left his mark upon Japan. Fuji
was possibly a corruption of Huchi, or Fuchi, the Ainu Goddess of Fire,
and there is no doubt that these aborigines originated a vast number
of geographical names, particularly in the north of the main island,
that are recognisable to this day. We can also trace Ainu influence in
regard to certain Japanese superstitions, such as the belief in the
_Kappa_, or river monster.
The Chinese called Japan Jih-pén, "the place the sun comes
from," because the archipelago was situated on the east of their
own kingdom, and our word Japan and Nippon are corruptions of
Jih-pén. Marco Polo called the country Zipangu, and one ancient
name describes it as "The-Luxuriant-Reed-Plains-the-land-of-Fresh
-Rice-Ears-of-a-Thousand-Autumns-of-Long-Five-Hundred-Autumns." We are
not surprised to find that such a very lengthy and descriptive title
is not used by the Japanese to-day; but it is of interest to know that
the old word for Japan, Yamato, is still frequently employed, Yamato
Damashii signifying "The Spirit of Unconquerable Japan." Then, again,
we still hear Japan referred to as The Island of the Dragon-fly. We are
told in the old Japanese _Chronicles_ that the Emperor, in 630 B.C.,
ascended a hill called Waki Kamu no Hatsuma, from which he was able to
view the land on all sides. He was much impressed by the beauty of the
country, and said that it resembled "a dragon-fly licking its hinder
parts," and the Island received the name of Akitsu-Shima ("Island of
the Dragon-fly").
The _Kojiki_, or "Records of Ancient Matters," completed A.D. 712,
deals with the early traditions of the Japanese race, commencing
with the myths, the basis of Shintōism, and gradually becoming more
historical until it terminates in A.D. 628. Dr. W. G. Aston writes in
_A History of Japanese Literature_: "The _Kojiki_, however valuable
it may be for research into the mythology, the manners, the language,
and the legends of early Japan, is a very poor production, whether we
consider it as literature or as a record of facts. As history it cannot
be compared with the _Nihongi_,[2] a contemporary work in Chinese;
while the language is a strange mixture of Chinese and Japanese, which
there has been little attempt to endue with artistic quality. The
circumstances under which it was composed are a partial explanation of
the very curious style in which it is written. We are told that a man
named Yasumaro, learned in Chinese, took it down from the lips of a
certain Hiyeda no Are, who had such a wonderful memory that he 'could
repeat with his mouth whatever was placed before his eyes, and record
in his heart whatever struck his ears.'" It is possible that Hiyeda no
Are was one of the Kataribe or "Reciters," whose duty it was to recite
"ancient words" before the Mikado at the Court of Nara on certain State
occasions.
The _Kojiki_ and the _Nihongi_ are the sources from which we learn the
early myths and legends of Japan. In their pages we are introduced
to Izanagi and Izanami, Ama-terasu, Susa-no-o, and numerous other
divinities, and these august beings provide us with stories that are
quaint, beautiful, quasi-humorous, and sometimes a little horrible.
What could be more naïve than the love-making of Izanagi and Izanami,
who conceived the idea of marrying each other after seeing the mating
of two wagtails? In this ancient myth we trace the ascendency of the
male over the female, an ascendency maintained in Japan until recent
times, fostered, no doubt, by Kaibara's _Onna Daigaku_, "The Greater
Learning for Women." But in the protracted quarrel between the Sun
Goddess and her brother, the Impetuous Male, the old chroniclers lay
emphasis upon the villainy of Susa-no-o; and Ama-terasu, a curious
mingling of the divine and the feminine, is portrayed as an ideal
type of Goddess. She is revealed preparing for warfare, making
fortifications by stamping upon the ground, and she is also depicted
peeping out of her rock-cavern and gazing in the Sacred Mirror.
Ama-terasu is the central figure in Japanese mythology, for it is
from the Sun Goddess that the Mikados are descended. In the cycle of
legends known as the Period of the Gods, we are introduced to the
Sacred Treasures, we discover the origin of the Japanese dance, and in
imagination wander through the High Plain of Heaven, set foot upon the
Floating Bridge, enter the Central Land of Reed-Plains, peep into the
Land of Yomi, and follow Prince Fire-Fade into the Palace of the Sea
King.
Early heroes and warriors are always regarded as minor divinities, and
the very nature of Shintōism, associated with ancestor worship, has
enriched those of Japan with many a fascinating legend. For strength,
skill, endurance, and a happy knack of overcoming all manner of
difficulties by a subtle form of quick-witted enterprise, the Japanese
hero must necessarily take a high position among the famous warriors
of other countries. There is something eminently chivalrous about the
heroes of Japan that calls for special notice. The most valiant men are
those who champion the cause of the weak or redress evil and tyranny
of every kind, and we trace in the Japanese hero, who is very far from
being a crude swashbuckler, these most excellent qualities. He is
not always above criticism, and sometimes we find in him a touch of
cunning, but such a characteristic is extremely rare, and very far from
being a national trait. An innate love of poetry and the beautiful has
had its refining influence upon the Japanese hero, with the result that
his strength is combined with gentleness.
Benkei is one of the most lovable of Japanese heroes. He possessed
the strength of many men, his tact amounted to genius, his sense of
humour was strongly developed, and the most loving of Japanese mothers
could not have shown more gentleness when his master's wife gave birth
to a child. When Yoshitsune and Benkei, at the head of the Minamoto
host, had finally vanquished the Taira at the sea-fight of Dan-no-ura,
their success awakened the jealousy of the Shōgun, and the two great
warriors were forced to fly the country. We follow them across the sea,
over mountains, outwitting again and again their numerous enemies. At
Matsue a great army was sent out against these unfortunate warriors.
Camp-fires stretched in a glittering line about the last resting-place
of Yoshitsune and Benkei. In an apartment were Yoshitsune with his
wife and little child. Death stood in the room, too, and it was better
that Death should come at the order of Yoshitsune than at the command
of the enemy without the gate. His child was killed by an attendant,
and, holding his beloved wife's head under his left arm, he plunged
his sword deep into her throat. Having accomplished these things,
Yoshitsune committed _hara-kiri_. Benkei, however, faced the enemy. He
stood with his great legs apart, his back pressed against a rock. When
the dawn came he was still standing with his legs apart, a thousand
arrows in that brave body of his. Benkei was dead, but his was a death
too strong to fall. The sun shone on a man who was a true hero, who had
ever made good his words: "Where my lord goes, to victory or to death,
I shall follow him."
Japan is a mountainous country, and in such countries we expect to find
a race of hardy, brave men, and certainly the Land of the Rising Sun
has given us many a warrior worthy to rank with the Knights of King
Arthur. More than one legend deals with the destruction of devils and
goblins, and of the rescue of maidens who had the misfortune to be
their captives. One hero slays a great monster that crouched upon the
roof of the Emperor's palace, another despatches the Goblin of Oyeyama,
another thrusts his sword through a gigantic spider, and another slays
a serpent. All the Japanese heroes, whatever enterprise they may be
engaged in, reveal the spirit of high adventure, and that loyalty of
purpose, that cool disregard for danger and death which are still
characteristic of the Japanese people to-day.
"The Bamboo-Cutter and the Moon-Maiden" (Chapter III) is adapted
from a tenth-century story called _Taketori Monogatari_, and is the
earliest example of the Japanese romance. The author is unknown, but
he must have had an intimate knowledge of court life in Kyōto. All
the characters in this very charming legend are Japanese, but most
of the incidents have been borrowed from China, a country so rich
in picturesque fairy-lore. Mr. F. V. Dickins writes concerning the
_Taketori Monogatari_: "The art and grace of the story of the Lady
Kaguya are native, its unstrained pathos, its natural sweetness, are
its own, and in simple charm and purity of thought and language it
has no rival in the fiction of either the Middle Kingdom or of the
Dragon-fly Land."
In studying Japanese legend one is particularly struck by its
universality and also by its very sharp contrasts. Most nations have
deified the sun and moon, the stars and mountains, and all the greatest
works of Nature; but the Japanese have described the red blossoms of
azaleas as the fires of the Gods, and the white snow of Fuji as the
garments of Divine Beings. Their legend, on the one hand at any rate,
is essentially poetical, and those who worshipped Mount Fuji also had
ghostly tales to tell about the smallest insect. Too much stress
cannot be laid upon Japan's love of Nature. The early myths recorded
in the _Kojiki_ and _Nihongi_ are of considerable interest, but they
cannot be compared with the later legends that have given souls to
trees and flowers and butterflies, or with those pious traditions that
have revealed so tenderly and yet so forcibly the divine significance
of Nature. The Festival of the Dead could only have originated among a
people to whom the beautiful is the mainstay and joy of life, for that
festival is nothing less than a call to the departed dead to return to
their old earthly haunts in the summer-time, to cross green hills dotted
with pine-trees, to wander down winding ways, by lake and seashore,
to linger in old, well-loved gardens, and to pass into homes where,
without being seen, they see so much. To the Japanese mind, to those
who still preserve the spirit of Old Yamato, the most glowing account
of a Buddhist Paradise is not so fair as Japan in the summer-time.
Perhaps it is as well that Japanese myth, legend, fairy tale, and
folk-lore are not exclusively poetical, or we should be in danger of
becoming satiated with too much sweetness. It may be that we admire
the arches of a Gothic cathedral none the less for having gazed upon
the hideous gargoyles on the outside of the sacred edifice, and in the
legends of Japan we find many grotesques in sharp contrast with the
traditions associated with the gentle and loving Jizō. There is plenty
of crude realism in Japanese legend. We are repelled by the Thunder
God's favourite repast, amazed by the magical power of foxes and
cats; and the story of "Hōïchi-the-Earless" and of the corpse-eating
priest afford striking examples of the combination of the weird and
the horrible. In one story we laugh over the antics of a performing
kettle, and in another we are almost moved to tears when we read about
a little Japanese quilt that murmured: "Elder Brother probably is cold?
Nay, thou probably art cold?"
We have had numerous volumes of Japanese fairy tales, but hitherto no
book has appeared giving a comprehensive study of the myths and legends
of a country so rich in quaint and beautiful traditions, and it is
hoped that the present volume, the result of much pleasant labour, will
be a real contribution to the subject. I have made no attempt to make a
complete collection of Japanese myths and legends because their number
is legion; but I have endeavoured to make a judicious selection that
shall at any rate be representative, and many of the stories contained
in this volume will be new to the general reader.
Lafcadio Hearn wrote in one of his letters: "The fairy world seized my
soul again, very softly and sweetly--as a child might a butterfly," and
if we too would adopt a similar spirit, we shall journey to the Land
of the Gods, where the great Kōbō Daishi will write upon the sky and
running water, upon our very hearts, something of the glamour and magic
of Old Japan. With Kōbō Daishi for guide we shall witness the coming
of Mount Fuji, wander in the Palace of the Sea King and in the Land
of Perpetual Youth, watch the combats of mighty heroes, listen to the
wisdom of saints, cross the Celestial River on a bridge of birds, and
when we are weary nestle in the long sleeve of the ever-smiling Jizō.
F. HADLAND DAVIS
[Footnote 1: _The Full Recognition of Japan_, by Robert P. Porter.]
[Footnote 2: _Chronicles of Japan_, completed A.D. 720, deals, in an
interesting manner, with the myths, legends, poetry and history from
the earliest times down to A.D. 697.]
CHAPTER I: THE PERIOD OF THE GODS
In the Beginning
We are told that in the very beginning "Heaven and Earth were not
yet separated, and the _In_ and _Yo_ not yet divided." This reminds
us of other cosmogony stories. The _In_ and _Yo_, corresponding to
the Chinese _Yang_ and _Yin_, were the male and female principles.
It was more convenient for the old Japanese writers to imagine the
coming into being of creation in terms not very remote from their
own manner of birth. In Polynesian mythology we find pretty much the
same conception, where Rangi and Papa represented Heaven and Earth,
and further parallels may be found in Egyptian and other cosmogony
stories. In nearly all we find the male and female principles taking
a prominent, and after all very rational, place. We are told in the
_Nihongi_ that these male and female principles "formed a chaotic
mass like an egg which was of obscurely defined limits and contained
germs." Eventually this egg was quickened into life, and the purer and
clearer part was drawn out and formed Heaven, while the heavier element
settled down and became Earth, which was "compared to the floating
of a fish sporting on the surface of the water." A mysterious form
resembling a reed-shoot suddenly appeared between Heaven and Earth,
and as suddenly became transformed into a God called Kuni-toko-tachi,
("Land-eternal-stand-of-august-thing"). We may pass over the other
divine births until we come to the important deities known as Izanagi
and Izanami ("Male-who-invites" and "Female-who-invites"). About these
beings has been woven an entrancing myth.
Izanagi and Izanami
Izanagi and Izanami stood on the Floating Bridge of Heaven and
looked down into the abyss. They inquired of each other if there
were a country far, far below the great Floating Bridge. They
were determined to find out. In order to do so they thrust down a
jewel-spear, and found the ocean. Raising the spear a little, water
dripped from it, coagulated, and became the island of Onogoro-jima
("Spontaneously-congeal-island").
Upon this island the two deities descended. Shortly afterwards they
desired to become husband and wife, though as a matter of fact they
were brother and sister; but such a relationship in the East has never
precluded marriage. These deities accordingly set up a pillar on the
island. Izanagi walked round one way, and Izanami the other. When they
met, Izanami said: "How delightful! I have met with a lovely youth."
One would have thought that this naïve remark would have pleased
Izanagi; but it made him, extremely angry, and he retorted: "I am a
man, and by that right should have spoken first. How is it that on the
contrary thou, a woman, shouldst have been the first to speak? This is
unlucky. Let us go round again." So it happened that the two deities
started afresh. Once again they met, and this time Izanagi remarked:
"How delightful! I have met a lovely maiden." Shortly after this very
ingenuous proposal Izanagi and Izanami were married.
When Izanami had given birth to islands, seas, rivers, herbs, and
trees, she and her lord consulted together, saying: "We have now
produced the Great-Eight-Island country, with the mountains, rivers,
herbs, and trees. Why should we not produce some one who shall be the
Lord of the Universe?"
The wish of these deities was fulfilled, for in due season
Ama-terasu, the Sun Goddess, was born. She was known as
"Heaven-Illumine-of-Great-Deity," and was so extremely beautiful that
her parents determined to send her up the Ladder of Heaven, and in the
high sky above to cast for ever her glorious sunshine upon the earth.
Their next child was the Moon God, Tsuki-yumi. His silver radiance was
not so fair as the golden effulgence of his sister, the Sun Goddess,
but he was, nevertheless, deemed worthy to be her consort. So up the
Ladder of Heaven climbed the Moon God. They soon quarrelled, and
Ama-terasu said: "Thou art a wicked deity. I must not see thee face
to face." They were therefore separated by a day and night, and dwelt
apart.
The next child of Izanagi and Izanami was Susa-no-o ("The Impetuous
Male"). We shall return to Susa-no-o and his doings later on, and
content ourselves for the present with confining our attention to his
parents.
Izanami gave birth to the Fire God, Kagu-tsuchi. The birth of this
child made her extremely ill. Izanagi knelt on the ground, bitterly
weeping and lamenting. But his sorrow availed nothing, and Izanami
crept away into the Land of Yomi (Hades).
Her lord, however, could not live without her, and he too went into the
Land of Yomi. When he discovered her, she said regretfully: "My lord
and husband, why is thy coming so late? I have already eaten of the
cooking-furnace of Yomi. Nevertheless, I am about to lie down to rest.
I pray thee do not look at me."
Izanagi, moved by curiosity, refused to fulfil her wish. It was dark in
the Land of Yomi, so he secretly took out his many-toothed comb, broke
off a piece, and lighted it. The sight that greeted him was ghastly
and horrible in the extreme. His once beautiful wife had now become a
swollen and festering creature. Eight varieties of Thunder Gods rested
upon her. The Thunder of the Fire, Earth, and Mountain were all there
leering upon him, and roaring with their great voices.
Izanagi grew frightened and disgusted, saying: "I have come unawares to
a hideous and polluted land." His wife retorted: "Why didst thou not
observe that which I charged thee? Now am I put to shame."
Izanami was so angry with her lord for ignoring her wish and breaking
in upon her privacy that she sent the Eight Ugly Females of Yomi to
pursue him. Izanagi drew his sword and fled down the dark regions of
the Underworld. As he ran he took off his headdress, and flung it to
the ground. It immediately became a bunch of grapes. When the Ugly
Females saw it, they bent down and ate the luscious fruit. Izanami saw
them pause, and deemed it wise to pursue her lord herself.
By this time Izanagi had reached the Even Pass of Yomi. Here he placed
a huge rock, and eventually came face to face with Izanami. One would
scarcely have thought that amid such exciting adventures Izanagi
would have solemnly declared a divorce. But this is just what he did
do. To this proposal his wife replied: "My dear lord and husband, if
thou sayest so, I will strangle to death the people in one day." This
plaintive and threatening speech in no way influenced Izanagi, who
readily replied that he would cause to be born in one day no less than
fifteen hundred.
The above remark must have proved conclusive, for when we next hear
of Izanagi he had escaped from the Land of Yomi, from an angry wife,
and from the Eight Ugly Females. After his escape he was engaged in
copious ablutions, by way of purification, from which numerous deities
were born. We read in the _Nihongi_: "After this, Izanagi, his divine
task having been accomplished, and his spirit-career about to suffer a
change, built himself an abode of gloom in the island of Ahaji, where
he dwelt for ever in silence and concealment."
Ama-terasu and Susa-no-o
Susa-no-o, or "The Impetuous Male," was the brother of Ama-terasu, the
Sun Goddess. Now Susa-no-o was a very undesirable deity indeed, and he
figured in the Realm of the Japanese Gods as a decidedly disturbing
element. His character has been clearly drawn in the _Nihongi_, more
clearly perhaps than that of any other deity mentioned in these ancient
records. Susa-no-o had a very bad temper, which often resulted in many
cruel and ungenerous acts. Moreover, in spite of his long beard, he had
a habit of continually weeping and wailing. Where a child in a tantrum
would crush a toy to pieces, the Impetuous Male, when in a towering
rage, and without a moment's warning, would wither the once fair
greenery of mountains, and in addition bring many people to an untimely
end.
His parents, Izanagi and Izanami, were much troubled by his doings,
and, after consulting together, they decided to banish their unruly son
to the Land of Yomi. Susa, however, had a word to say in the matter. He
made the following petition, saying: "I will now obey thy instructions
and proceed to the Nether-Land (Yomi). Therefore I wish for a short
time to go to the Plain of High Heaven and meet with my elder sister
(Ama-terasu), after which I will go away for ever." This apparently
harmless request was granted, and Susa-no-o ascended to Heaven. His
departure occasioned a great commotion of the sea, and the hills and
mountains groaned aloud.
Now Ama-terasu heard these noises, and perceiving that they denoted the
near approach of her wicked brother Susa-no-o, she said to herself:
"Is my younger brother coming with good intentions? I think it must be
his purpose to rob me of my kingdom. By the charge which our parents
gave to their children, each of us has his own allotted limits. Why,
therefore, does he reject the kingdom to which he should proceed, and
make bold to come spying here?"
Ama-terasu then prepared for warfare. She tied her hair into knots and
hung jewels upon it, and round her wrists "an august string of five
hundred Yasaka jewels." She presented a very formidable appearance
when in addition she slung over her back "a thousand-arrow quiver and
a five-hundred-arrow quiver," and protected her arms with pads to
deaden the recoil of the bowstring. Having arrayed herself for deadly
combat, she brandished her bow, grasped her sword-hilt, and stamped on
the ground till she had made a hole sufficiently large to serve as a
fortification.
All this elaborate and ingenious preparation was in vain. The Impetuous
Male adopted the manner of a penitent. "From the beginning," he said,
"my heart has not been black. But as, in obedience to the stern behest
of our parents, I am about to depart for ever to the Nether-Land, how
could I bear to depart without having seen face to face thee my elder
sister? It is for this reason that I have traversed on foot the clouds
and mists and have come hither from afar. I am surprised that my elder
sister should, on the contrary, put on so stern a countenance."
Ama-terasu regarded these remarks with a certain amount of suspicion.
Susa-no-o's filial piety and Susa-no-o's cruelty were not easily to
be reconciled. She thereupon resolved to test his sincerity by a
remarkable proceeding we need not describe. Suffice it to say that for
the time being the test proved the Impetuous Male's purity of heart and
general sincerity towards his sister.
But Susa-no-o's good behaviour was a very short-lived affair indeed. It
happened that Ama-terasu had made a number of excellent rice-fields in
Heaven. Some were narrow and some were long, and Ama-terasu was justly
proud of these rice-fields. No sooner had she sown the seed in the
spring than Susa-no-o broke down the divisions between the plots, and
in the autumn let loose a number of piebald colts.
One day when he saw his sister in the sacred Weaving Hall, weaving the
garments of the Gods, he made a hole through the roof and flung down
a flayed horse. Ama-terasu was so frightened that she accidentally
wounded herself with the shuttle. Extremely angry, she determined to
leave her abode; so, gathering her shining robes about her, she crept
down the blue sky, entered a cave, fastened it securely, and there
dwelt in seclusion.
Now the world was in darkness, and the alternation of night and day
was unknown. When this dreadful catastrophe had taken place the
Eighty Myriads of Gods assembled together on the bank of the River
of Heaven and discussed how they might best persuade Ama-terasu to
grace Heaven once more with her shining glory. No less a God than
"Thought-combining," after much profound reasoning, gathered together a
number of singing-birds from the Eternal Land. After sundry divinations
with a deer's leg-bone, over a fire of cherry-bark, the Gods made a
number of tools, bellows, and forges. Stars were welded together to
form a mirror, and jewellery and musical instruments were eventually
fashioned.
When all these things had been duly accomplished the Eighty Myriads
of Gods came down to the rock-cavern where the Sun Goddess lay
concealed, and gave an elaborate entertainment. On the upper branches
of the True Sakaki Tree they hung the precious jewels, and on the
middle branches the mirror. From every side there was a great singing
of birds, which was only the prelude to what followed. Now Uzume
("Heavenly-alarming-female") took in her hand a spear wreathed with
Eulalia grass, and made a headdress of the True Sakaki Tree. Then she
placed a tub upside down, and proceeded to dance in a very immodest
manner, till the Eighty Myriad Gods began to roar with laughter.
Such extraordinary proceedings naturally awakened the curiosity of
Ama-terasu, and she peeped forth. Once more the world became golden
with her presence. Once more she dwelt in the Plain of High Heaven, and
Susa-no-o was duly chastised and banished to the Yomi Land.
Susa-no-o and the Serpent
With the usual inconsistency of myths and legends, we are not surprised
to find that all reference to Susa dwelling in the Land of Yomi is
entirely omitted. When we next see him it is apart from his usual
mischievous disposition. Indeed, we find him in a _rôle_ worthy of
one of the Knights of the Round Table. Whether the sudden display
of knight-errantry was a cunning move on his part for some ulterior
motive, or whether his sister's sudden withdrawal from Heaven had made
him permanently reform his ways, we are left in entire ignorance.
[Illustration: Uzume Awakens the curiosity of Ama-terasu.--28]
Susa-no-o, having descended from Heaven, arrived at the river Hi, in
the province of Idzumo. Here he was disturbed by a sound of weeping.
It was so unusual to hear any other than himself weep that he went in
search of the cause of the sorrow. He discovered an old man and an old
woman. Between them was a young girl, whom they fondly caressed and
gazed at with pitiful eyes, as if they were reluctantly bidding her
a last farewell. When Susa-no-o asked the old couple who they were
and why they lamented, the old man replied: "I am an Earthly Deity,
and my name is Ashi-nadzuchi ("Foot-stroke-elder"). My wife's name is
Tenadzuchi ("Hand-stroke-elder"). This girl is our daughter, and her
name is Kushi-nada-hime ("Wondrous-Inada-Princess"). The reason of our
weeping is that formerly we had eight children, daughters; but they
have been devoured year by year by an eight-forked serpent, and now
the time approaches for this girl to be devoured. There is no means of
escape for her, and therefore do we grieve exceedingly."
The Impetuous Male listened to this painful recital with profound
attention, and, perceiving that the maiden was extremely beautiful, he
offered to slay the eight-forked serpent if her parents would give her
to him in marriage as a fitting reward for his services. This request
was readily granted.
Susa-no-o now changed Kushi-nada-hime into a many-toothed comb and
stuck it in his hair. Then he bade the old couple brew a quantity of
_saké_. When the _saké_ was ready, he poured it into eight tubs, and
awaited the coming of the dreadful monster.
Eventually the serpent came. It had eight heads, and the eyes were
red, "like winter-cherry." Moreover it had eight tails, and firs and
cypress-trees grew on its back. It was in length the space of eight
hills and eight valleys. Its lumbering progress was necessarily
slow, but finding the _saké_, each head eagerly drank the tempting
beverage till the serpent became extremely drunk, and fell asleep. Then
Susa-no-o, having little to fear, drew his ten-span sword and chopped
the great monster into little pieces. When he struck one of the tails
his weapon became notched, and bending down he discovered a sword
called the Murakumo-no-Tsurugi. Perceiving it to be a divine sword, he
gave it to the Gods of Heaven.
Having successfully accomplished his task, Susa-no-o converted the
many-toothed comb into Kushi-nada-hime again, and at length came to
Suga, in the province of Idzumo, in order that he might celebrate his
marriage. Here he composed the following verse:
"Many clouds arise,
On all sides a manifold fence,
To receive within it the spouses,
They form a manifold fence--
Ah! that manifold fence!"
_Nihongiy_, trans. by W. G. Aston.
[Illustration: Susa-no-o and Kushi-nada-hime.--30]
The Divine Messengers
Now at that time the Gods assembled in the High Plain of Heaven were
aware of continual disturbances in the Central Land of Reed-Plains
(Idzumo). We are told that "Plains, the rocks, tree-stems, and
herbage have still the power of speech. At night they make a
clamour like that of flames of fire; in the day-time they swarm up
like flies in the fifth month." In addition certain deities made
themselves objectionable. The Gods determined to put an end to these
disturbances, and after a consultation Taka-mi-musubi decided to send
his grandchild Ninigi to govern the Central Land of Reed-Plains,
to wipe out insurrection, and to bring peace and prosperity to the
country. It was deemed necessary to send messengers to prepare the
way in advance. The first envoy was Ama-no-ho; but as he spent three
years in the country without reporting to the Gods, his son was sent
in his place. He adopted the same course as his father, and defied
the orders of the Heavenly Ones. The third messenger was Ame-waka
("Heaven-young-Prince"). He, too, was disloyal, in spite of his noble
weapons, and instead of going about his duties he fell in love and took
to wife Shita-teru-hime ("Lower-shine-Princess").
Now the assembled Gods grew angry at the long delay, and sent a
pheasant down to ascertain what was going on in Idzumo. The pheasant
perched on the top of a cassia-tree before Ame-waka's gate. When
Ame-waka saw the bird he immediately shot it. The arrow went through
the bird, rose into the Place of Gods, and was hurled back again, so
that it killed the disloyal and idle Ame-waka.
The weeping of Lower-shine-Princess reached Heaven, for she loved her
lord and failed to recognise in his sudden death the just vengeance
of the Gods. She wept so loud and so pitifully that the Heavenly Ones
heard her. A swift wind descended, and the body of Ame-waka floated up
into the High Plain of Heaven. A mortuary house was made, in which the
deceased was laid. Mr. Frank Rinder writes: "For eight days and eight
nights there was wailing and lamentation. The wild goose of the river,
the heron, the kingfisher, the sparrow, and the pheasant mourned with a
great mourning."
Now it happened that a friend of Ame-waka, Aji-shi-ki by name, heard
the sad dirges proceeding from Heaven. He therefore offered his
condolence. He so resembled the deceased that when Ame-waka's parents,
relations, wife, and children saw him, they exclaimed: "Our lord is
still alive!" This greatly angered Aji-shi-ki, and he drew his sword
and cut down the mortuary house, so that it fell to the Earth and
became the mountain of Moyama.
We are told that the glory of Aji-shi-ki was so effulgent that it
illuminated the space of two hills and two valleys. Those assembled for
the mourning celebrations uttered the following song:
"Like the string of jewels
Worn on the neck
Of the Weaving-maiden,
That dwells in Heaven--
Oh! the lustre of the jewels
Flung across two valleys
From Aji-suki-taka-hiko-ne!
"To the side-pool--
The side-pool
Of the rocky stream
Whose narrows are crossed
By the country wenches
Afar from Heaven,
Come hither, come hither!
(The women are fair)
And spread across thy net
In the side-pool
Of the rocky stream."
_Nihongi_, trans. by W. G. Aston.
Two more Gods were sent to the Central Land of Reed-Plains, and these
Gods were successful in their mission. They returned to Heaven with a
favourable report, saying that all was now ready for the coming of the
August Grandchild.
The Coming of the August Grandchild
Ama-terasu presented her grandson Ninigi, or Prince
Rice-Ear-Ruddy-Plenty, with many gifts. She gave him precious stones
from the mountain-steps of Heaven, white crystal balls, and, most
valuable gift of all, the divine sword that Susa-no-o had discovered
in the serpent. She also gave him the star-mirror into which she had
gazed when peeping out of her cave. Several deities accompanied Ninigi,
including that lively maiden of mirth and dance Uzume, whose dancing,
it will be remembered, so amused the Gods.
Ninigi and his companions had hardly broken through the clouds and
arrived at the eight-forked road of Heaven, when they discovered, much
to their alarm, a gigantic creature with large and brightly shining
eyes. So formidable was his aspect that Ninigi and all his companions,
except the merry and bewitching Uzume, started to turn back with intent
to abandon their mission. But Uzume went up to the giant and demanded
who it was that dared to impede their progress. The giant replied: "I
am the Deity of the Field-paths. I come to pay my homage to Ninigi, and
beg to have the honour to be his guide. Return to your master, O fair
Uzume, and give him this message."
So Uzume returned and gave her message to the Gods, who had so
ignominiously retreated. When they heard the good news they greatly
rejoiced, burst once more through the clouds, rested on the Floating
Bridge of Heaven, and finally reached the summit of Takachihi.
The August Grandchild, with the Deity of the Field-paths for guide,
travelled from end to end of the kingdom over which he was to rule.
When he had reached a particularly charming spot, he built a palace.
Ninigi was so pleased with the service the Deity of the Field-paths had
rendered him that he gave that giant the merry Uzume to wife.
Ninigi, after having romantically rewarded his faithful guide, began
to feel the stirring of love himself, when one day, while walking
along the shore, he saw an extremely lovely maiden. "Who are you, most
beautiful lady?" inquired Ninigi. She replied: "I am the daughter of
the Great-Mountain-Possessor. My name is Ko-no-Hana, the Princess who
makes the Flowers of the Trees to Blossom."
Ninigi fell in love with Ko-no-Hana. He went with all haste to her
father, Oho-yama, and begged that he would favour him with his
daughter's hand.
Oho-yama had an elder daughter, Iha-naga, Princess Long-as-the-Rocks.
As her name implies, she was not at all beautiful; but her father
desired that Ninigi's children should have life as eternal as the
life of rocks. He therefore presented both his daughters to Ninigi,
expressing the hope that the suitor's choice would fall upon Iha-naga.
Just as Cinderella, and not her ugly sisters, is dear to children of
our own country, so did Ninigi remain true to his choice, and would not
even look upon Iha-naga. This neglect made Princess Long-as-the-Rocks
extremely angry. She cried out, with more vehemence than modesty: "Had
you chosen me, you and your children would have lived long in the
land. Now that you have chosen my sister, you and yours will perish as
quickly as the blossom of trees, as quickly as the bloom on my sister's
cheek."
However, Ninigi and Ko-no-Hana lived happily together for some time;
but one day jealousy came to Ninigi and robbed him of his peace of
mind. He had no cause to be jealous, and Ko-no-Hana much resented his
treatment. She retired to a little wooden hut, and set it on fire. From
the flames came three baby boys. We need only concern ourselves with
two of them--Hoderi ("Fire-shine") and Hoori ("Fire-fade"). Hoori, as
we shall see later on, was the grandfather of the first Mikado of Japan.
[Illustration: Hoori and the Sea God's Daughter.--34]
In the Palace of the Sea God
Hoderi was a great fisherman, while his younger brother, Hoori, was
an accomplished hunter. One day they exclaimed: "Let us for a trial
exchange gifts." This they did, but the elder brother, who could
catch fish to some purpose, came home without any spoil when he went
a-hunting. He therefore returned the bow and arrows, and asked his
younger brother for the fish-hook. Now it so happened that Hoori had
lost his brother's fish-hook. The generous offer of a new hook to take
the place of the old one was scornfully refused. He also refused to
accept a heaped-up tray of fish-hooks. To this offer the elder brother
replied: "These are not my old fish-hook: though they are many, I will
not take them."
Now Hoori was sore troubled by his brother's harshness, so he went down
to the sea-shore and there gave way to his grief. A kind old man by the
name of Shiko-tsutsu no Oji ("Salt-sea-elder") said: "Why dost thou
grieve here?" When the sad tale was told, the old man replied: "Grieve
no more. I will arrange this matter for thee."
True to his word, the old man made a basket, set Hoori in it, and then
sank it in the sea. After descending deep down in the water Hoori came
to a pleasant strand rich with all manner of fantastic seaweed. Here he
abandoned the basket and eventually arrived at the Palace of the Sea
God.
Now this palace was extremely imposing. It had battlements and turrets
and stately towers. A well stood at the gate, and over the well there
was a cassia-tree. Here Hoori loitered in the pleasant shade. He had
not stood there long before a beautiful woman appeared. As she was
about to draw water, she raised her eyes, saw the stranger, and
immediately returned, with much alarm, to tell her mother and father
what she had seen.
The God of the Sea, when he had heard the news, "prepared an eightfold
cushion" and led the stranger in, asking his visitor why he had
been honoured by his presence. When Hoori explained the sad loss of
his brother's fish-hook the Sea God assembled all the fishes of his
kingdom, "broad of fin and narrow of fin." And when the thousands upon
thousands of fishes were assembled, the Sea God asked them if they
knew anything about the missing fish-hook. "We know not," answered the
fishes. "Only the Red-woman (the _tai_) has had a sore mouth for some
time past, and has not come." She was accordingly summoned, and on her
mouth being opened the lost fish-hook was discovered.
Hoori then took to wife the Sea God's daughter, Toyo-tama
("Rich-jewel"), and they dwelt together in the palace under the sea.
For three years all went well, but after a time Hoori hungered for a
sight of his own country, and possibly he may have remembered that
he had yet to restore the fish-hook to his elder brother. These not
unnatural feelings troubled the heart of the loving Toyo-tama, and she
went to her father and told him of her sorrow. But the Sea God, who
was always urbane and courteous, in no way resented his son-in-law's
behaviour. On the contrary he gave him the fish-hook, saying: "When
thou givest this fish-hook to thy elder brother, before giving it to
him, call to it secretly, and say, 'A poor hook!'" He also presented
Hoori with the Jewel of the Flowing Tide and the Jewel of the Ebbing
Tide, saying: "If thou dost dip the Tide-flowing Jewel, the tide will
suddenly flow, and therewithal thou shalt drown thine elder brother.
But in case thy elder brother should repent and beg forgiveness,
if, on the contrary, thou dip the Tide-ebbing Jewel, the tide will
spontaneously ebb, and therewithal thou shalt save him. If thou harass
him in this way thy elder brother will of his own accord render
submission."
Just before Hoori was about to depart his wife came to him and told him
that she was soon to give him a child. Said she: "On a day when the
winds and waves are raging I will surely come forth to the seashore.
Build for me a house, and await me there."
Hoderi and Hoori Reconciled
When Hoori reached his own home he found his elder brother, who
admitted his offence and begged for forgiveness, which was readily
granted.
Toyo-tama and her younger sister bravely confronted the winds and
waves, and came to the sea-shore. There Hoori had built a hut roofed
with cormorant feathers, and there in due season she gave birth
to a son. When Toyo-tama had blessed her lord with offspring, she
turned into a dragon and slipped back into the sea. Hoori's son
married his aunt, and was the father of four children, one of whom
was Kamu-Yamato-Iware-Biko, who is said to have been the first human
Emperor of Japan, and is now known as Jimmu Tennō.