CHAPTER II
EARLY LIFE

From the recording of Shibusawa’s birth in the Keidzu, the daimyo’s great book, until he had passed sixteen (the average age of discretion in Japan), there was but little in his life that is of interest so far as this story is concerned. Maido was always solicitous about the child’s care, and took every precaution to have him taught only such ideas as were in accord with his ancestors’ and the preconceived notions of the shogun’s government.

The son inherited from his father much of his stalwartness and determination, and from his mother something of those finer qualities, tenderness and forbearance, which combined at an early age to quicken in him a deeper sense and insure a broader scope of life. He evinced at an early age an untiring devotion to his studies and to a research for truth; and all the many castle buildings were soon even more familiar to him than to Maido, and he knew well the history, the uses, and the purposes of each. The castle ramparts were his playgrounds, and each swordsman and every archer was a slave indeed.

Either in company or alone he had traversed all the macadam roads, leading from village to village and province to province; and in palace or house, from city to country, he knew the people and they knew him, and as he grew older they learned to love and respect him as they did Maido himself. Nor was he content with what he saw and heard at home, but as he grew he began to thirst for a knowledge of the outer world; though in this he had been discreet as regards his father, for however ambitious his desires he had not once expressed a wish. Maido knew too well that there were more peace and contentment and less crime and misery at home than elsewhere, and very wisely wished his son to be kept from too close a discernment until he had arrived at maturer years.

Shibusawa’s desire to go, however, finally grew into a determination. Whereupon, as was usual in such matters, he took Okyo into his confidence, at least to the extent of consulting him how best to frustrate his father without disobeying him. Now Okyo reasoned that as Shibusawa had not asked the privilege of going he had never been admonished to stay; so, after consulting Fudo, god of enlightenment, thus easing his conscience, he advised that it was best to make ready and go, without endangering their chances by asking permission of anybody.

Shibusawa, though doubtful of its propriety, readily conceded the wisdom of Okyo’s reasoning, for above all other things he would not disobey: strategy, while not characteristic of him, he deemed the proper thing, as it was no more an inborn trait than a national virtue. Early that autumn, accordingly, he began to curtail his expenses as much as he could without arousing suspicion, and to save from his allowance a fund with which to defray the cost of their contemplated trip. The time of starting was a difficult thing to determine, as under ordinary circumstances Shibusawa was almost certain to be recognised while passing the gates, and unless a very good reason was apparent to the guards such a circumstance would have been immediately reported to the castle. Here Okyo again displayed his judgment by advising the day after Nobori-iche, boys’ festival (May 5th), it being the day upon which Maido would start upon his regular visit into the country. This trip generally lasted from two to four weeks, and ever since Shibusawa’s birth the starting had been put off until this particular date,—as often, when the boy had grown older, he was taken along; yet his going was never compulsory or even urged against his pleasure.

When the allotted time came Shibusawa again started off with his father and suite, but before they had gone far he suddenly changed his mind and pleaded to be allowed to return. Maido, though disappointed in the loss of his son’s company and not the least suspicious of a serious motive, readily granted permission, and Shibusawa lost no time in joining Okyo at a certain agreed place, where the former quickly changed his silken kimono and lacquered shoes for the regular dress of a pilgrim, while the latter with less trouble donned the same kind of garb. Thus disguised they passed through the city and escaped into the country, in a direction opposite to that taken by his father, and travelled along unmolested until they had gone entirely out of Maido’s domain and into the territory of a hostile neighbour.

Having thus placed himself beyond pursuit, Shibusawa despatched a message to his father explaining fully his intentions and assuring him of his safety. Maido was, thereupon, overwhelmed with anxiety, yet he made no attempt to follow. He realised that his only hope of seeing him again lay in the boy’s own discretion and voluntary return; pursuit would have been the means of disclosing his identity to a bitter and jealous rival, and thenceforth he must be in danger of death and possible torture.

The getting off without discovery had so occupied and stimulated Shibusawa that he had as yet given but little thought to the dangers and hardships which confronted him. True, he was acquainted with laws and customs at home, and was not altogether unfamiliar with those in force elsewhere, yet he quickly discovered that the spirit and regulations in a country continually at war are necessarily very different from those of one where quiet and industry prevail. However, he had set out for a definite purpose and he did not mean to lose courage, nor let any obstacle stand in the way of accomplishing what he had undertaken. He had chosen the one disguise that would make excuse and enable him to pass through the country, provided he travelled from temple to temple and shrine to shrine, the proper business of a pilgrim. And as Okyo had had at home some experience of this kind he at first relied upon him to lead the way and avoid any serious conflict with the numerous police, guards, and spies who infested the region which they were about to explore. He trusted to his father’s good judgment to make no attempt to follow; yet to be entirely safe he chose, for the moment, to avoid Kyoto, and the more noted shrines of that locality, and to keep to the westward and overland toward Shimonoseki and Nagasaki, in the extreme west and south.

Wandering about almost at will and without undue interference they visited all of the principal shrines and places, including, on the return trip, Kyoto, Nara, and Kamakura in the far east. It was now almost Kawabisaki, the Day of the Opening of the River (July twenty-fifth)—at Tokyo, the residence seat of the shogun—and as Shibusawa had never witnessed a celebration of the local autumn holiday he very much desired to join in the coming festivities. Hence by special effort and by hastily passing some of the minor places of interest they reached the capital city late on the second day preceding the gala ceremonies.