Warriors of Old Japan, and Other Stories

by Yei Theodora Ozaki

The priests were so pleased by the flattery of this speech that they did not see that it was a ruse on the part of Yorimasa to get rid of them easily, and that he was sending them round to bother his rivals. He had also appealed to their best feelings, for Japanese chivalry teaches that in the event of choosing between two enemies the weaker must always be spared.

Some polite answer was made to Yorimasa, and then the priests shouldered the Mikoshi and departed in the same spirited and vociferous manner that they had come. They went to the next gate, guarded by the Heike. Battle was given at once, for they were refused admittance. The priests were beaten and fled for their lives to the hills.

All these stories show us that Yorimasa was a clever man in every way, but in the end he was unfortunate, and for this there was no help.

When we read the story of his ill-fated death our hearts are filled with sorrow for him. It is not always as one wishes in this world, and Yorimasa did not meet with the fate his meritorious deeds and character deserved.

The Heike or Taira clan were now in the ascendant (Yorimasa, it will be remembered, belonged to the Genji or Minamoto), and Kiyomori, their despotic and unprincipled leader, was Prime Minister. All the important posts in the Government he gave to his sons, grandsons, and relations, who under these circumstances, seeing that they owed everything to him, did just as the tyrant ordered. All samurai who did not belong to the Heike clan he treated unjustly, even throwing those he did not like into prison, whether they were innocent or guilty of the crimes or behaviour deserving such punishment.

As a general of the rival Genji clan, Yorimasa suffered much from this unfair treatment. As he watched the arrogant conduct of Kiyomori and his son Munemori, he longed to be able to punish them and to bring retribution on the whole clan, and to this end he thought and worked and planned.

At last the Heike became so overbearing and so powerful that their actions passed the bounds of all reason, and Kiyomori, on a question of succession to the throne, confined the reigning Emperor in his Palace.

This last step was too much for Yorimasa; he could endure this state of things no longer, and he resolved to make a bold strike for the right. He placed Prince Takakura, the son of the late Emperor, at the head of his army and set out to do battle with the Heike.

But the Genji were far inferior in numbers to the Heike, and, sad to relate, Yorimasa was defeated in his good and just cause. With the remainder of his army he fled before the enemy and took refuge in the Temple of Byodoin, situated on the river Uji.

The Byodoin Temple, a large edifice near Kyoto, remains to this day. Here Yorimasa made a last stand to afford time for Prince Takakura to escape. He divided his men into two parties—one division he stationed as a reserve force in the grounds of the temple, while the other he drew up in battle array along the banks of the river. In case of pursuit, to prevent the enemy from crossing the river, they tore up the planks which formed the flooring of the bridge, so that only a skeleton of posts and cross-beams remained. Then they rested and waited to see what would happen.