Warriors of Old Japan, and Other Stories

by Yei Theodora Ozaki

[GEN SANMI YORIMASA, THE KNIGHT]

Long, long ago in Japan there lived a brave knight named Gen Sanmi Yorimasa. Yorimasa was his own name, while Gen was the great clan to which he belonged, the Genji, or Minamoto, famous in history, and Sanmi showed that he was a knight of the Third Rank at Court, from the word san, which means "three."

Now Yorimasa is so celebrated a warrior that to this day his picture is painted on the kites which the little boys of Japan fly at the New Year, and if you visit the temple of the Goddess of Mercy, at Asakusa, in Tokyo, you will see his portrait even there. And at the Boys' Festival, on the fifth of the fifth month, when in every household where there are sons the favourite heroes of the land are set out in the alcove of honour of the guest-room, you will surely find amidst the martial show of toys the figure of an archer clothed from head to foot in gay armour, with a huge bow in his hand and a quiver full of arrows on his back. That is Yorimasa of brave and dear memory.

Yorimasa was the fifth descendant of the Great Knight Raiko, who killed the demons of Oyeyama about whom you will soon read. As a youth Yorimasa was noted for his valour and his skill in archery, and he was soon called to the Court and given the important post of Chief Guard of the Imperial Palace.

Now, though Yorimasa was a man of ability and the greatest archer of his time, and though he had done deeds of note which had brought him into prominence, yet for some unaccountable reason his rank at Court remained stationary, and he did not advance from the Fourth degree (Shi-i), which he had when he first entered the sacred precincts of the Palace. The humour of the situation caught Yorimasa's fancy, for he was very quick-witted, and one day, smiling to himself, he sat down at his writing-table and composed a poem lamenting his bad luck. From the earliest ages the Japanese have trained themselves, at the times when their feelings are stirred by some event which causes happiness or sorrow or disappointment, not to give way to their emotions, but to control their minds sufficiently to compose a poem on the subject.

Yorimasa's poem was of thirty-one syllables,[1] and in five short lines he said gracefully that "one who has not the means of climbing upwards remains under the tree and passes his life in picking up beechnuts." Now in Japanese the word for beechnuts is shi-i, and this word also means the Fourth Rank at Court. So that the couplet was a pun on his not being promoted. Yorimasa read the poem laughingly to some of his friends, and they, admiring his wit, repeated it and talked about it till it became quite famous in the Palace, and at last reached the Emperor's ear. The sympathy of His Majesty was aroused, and soon after this Yorimasa was raised to the rank of the Third degree, sanmi, and by this title he has ever afterwards been known.

Now it happened that at this time the Emperor became ill and could not sleep at night. He complained of disturbance and a great sense of oppression from sunset to sunrise. His courtiers, full of anxiety, sat up to watch the night through, to see if they could discover the cause of the Emperor's agitation. Some kept vigil in and round the Imperial chamber, others on the wide-eaved verandahs, and some in the courtyard of the Palace. Then the watchers on the verandahs and in the courtyard noticed that as soon as the sun set a black cloud came from the eastern horizon of the capital, and travelling across the city finally rested on the roof of the Palace called the Purple Hall (Shishinden) of the North Star, where the Emperor slept. As soon as this cloud alighted on the Palace, the Emperor's sleep became disturbed, as if by frightful nightmare. Those in attendance round the royal bed heard strange scratchings and noises on the roof as if some dreadful beast were there. These unusual sounds and the nightmare of the Imperial sleeper lasted till dawn, when it was noticed that the black cloud always withdrew.

Now in the Palace there was great commotion. The Minister of the Right and the Minister of the Left, whose duty it was to guard the Emperor from all harm, held long and anxious consultation as to what should be done. Every one in the Palace was of the opinion that the black cloud hid some monster which for some unknown cause haunted the Emperor. It was quite certain that unless the monster were killed, and that soon, the Emperor's life would be endangered, for he was growing weaker and thinner every day. The question was, who was brave enough to undertake the task? The Palace sentinels were already scared, so it was useless to expect help from them. The Ministers must seek for some brave samurai well known for his daring and his skill as an archer and put him on night-duty, charging him to kill the monster as soon as it should appear. The courtiers, one and all, said that Yorimasa was the man. An Imperial messenger was therefore at once sent to the knight, with a letter telling him what was demanded of him.

Yorimasa, when he read the letter, looked very grave, for he felt the responsibility of his new duty, which was different from all other work; for on him now depended the recovery of the Emperor, who was visibly growing worse and living through each day in terror of the nightmare which haunted him in the darkness.