He invested the castle which the Coreans had not been able to reinforce, but the vigorous resistance of the garrison, who threw stones and timber upon the heads of his assaulting parties, drove him to the invention of Kamé-no-kosha, or tortoise-shell wagons, which imitated the defensive armor of that animal. Collecting together several hundred green hides, and dry-hardening them in the fire, he covered four heavily built and slant-roofed wagons with them. These vehicles, proof against fire, missiles, or a crushing weight, and filled with soldiers, were pushed forward to the foot of the walls. While the matchlock men in the lines engaged those fighting on the ramparts, the soldiers, under the projecting sheds of the tortoise wagons, that jutted against the walls, began to dig under the foundations. These being undermined, the stones were pried out, and soon fell in sufficient number to cause a breach. Into this fresh soldiers rushed and quickly stormed the castle. The slaughter inside was fearful.
The news of the fall of this most important fortress fell like a clap of thunder in Peking, and upon the Corean king, who was preparing to go back to Seoul. The Chinese government appointed fresh commissioners of war, and ordered the formation of a new and larger army.
The immediate advance of the invaders on the capital was expected, but Kato, having obeyed Taikō’s orders, left a garrison in the castle and fell back on Fusan.
The Chinese general, upbraiding Chin Ikei for his insincerity, sent him to Konishi again. Their interview was taken up mainly with mutual charges of bad faith. Chin Ikei, returning, tried to persuade the Chinese commander to evacuate Corea, or, at least, retire to the frontier. Though he refused, being still under orders to fight, the Chinese army moved back from Seoul toward Manchuria, while Konishi, on his own responsibility, despatched a letter to the Chinese emperor. Large detachments of the Japanese army actually embarked at Fusan, and returned to Japan. In the lull of hostilities, negotiations were carried on at Peking and Kiōto, as well as between the hostile camps. The pen took the place of the matchlock, and the ink-stone furnished the ammunition.
A son was born to Taikō, and named Hidéyori. A great pageant, in honor of the infant, was given at the newly built and [[126]]splendid castle of Fushimi, near Kiōto, which was graced by a large number of the commanders and veterans of Corea, who had returned home on furlough, while negotiations were pending. The result of the Japanese mission to Peking was the despatch of an ambassador extraordinary, named Rishosei, with one of lesser rank, to Japan, by way of Fusan.
On his arrival, he requested to see Konishi, who, however, evaded him, excusing himself on the plea of expecting to hear from Taikō, after which he promised to hold an interview. Konishi then departed for Japan, taking Chin Ikei with him. On his return he still avoided the Chinese envoy, for he had no definite orders, and the other generals refused to act without direct word from their master in Kiōto. Meanwhile Chin Ikei, consumed with jealousy, and angry at the Peking mandarins for ignoring him and withholding official recognition and honors, planned revenge against Rishosei; for Chin Ikei believed himself to have done great things for Chō-sen and China, and yet he had received neither thanks, pay, nor promotion for his toils, while Rishosei, though a young man, with no experience, was honored with high office solely on account of being of rank and in official favor at Peking. Evidently with the intent of injuring Rishosei, Chin Ikei gave out that Taikō did not wish to be made King of Chō-sen, but had sent an envoy to China merely to have a high ambassador of China come to Japan, that he might insult or rather return the insult of the sovereign of China, in the person of his envoy, by making him a prisoner or putting him to death. Konishi and Chin Ikei again crossed to Japan to arrange for the reception of the Chinese envoys.
The reports started by Chin Ikei, coming to the ears of Rishosei, so frightened him that he fled in disguise from Fusan, and absconded to China. His colleague denounced him as a coward, and declaring that the Chinese government desired only “peace with honor,” sailed with his retinue and two Corean officers to Japan. “And Satan [Chin Ikei], came also among them.” All landed safely at Sakai, near Ozaka, October 8, 1596.
Audience was duly given with pomp and grandeur in the gorgeous castle at Fushimi, on October 24th. The ambassador brought the imperial letter, the patent of rank, a golden seal, a crown, and silk-embroidered robes of state. At a banquet, given next day, these robes were worn by Taikō and his officers.
Formalities over, the Ming emperor’s letter was delivered to [[127]]Taikō, who at once placed it in the hands of three of the most learned priests, experts in the Chinese language, and ordered them to translate its contents literally.
To Konishi, then at Kiōto, came misgivings of his abilities as a diplomatist Visiting the bonzes, he earnestly begged them to soften into polite phrase anything in the letter that might irritate Taikō. But the priests were inflexibly honest, and rendered the text of the letter into the exact Japanese equivalent. In it the patent of nobility first granted to the Ashikaga shō-gun (1403–1425) was referred to; and the gist of this last imperial letter was: “We, the Emperor of China, appoint you, Taikō, to be the King of Japan” (Nippon O). In other words, the mighty Kuambaku of Japan was insulted by being treated no better than one of the Ashikaga generals!