The hereditary owner of the Kawarazaki-za, Kawarazaki Gonnosuke, had made a promise to the seventh Danjuro that he would adopt one of his numerous brood, and the fifth son was selected to become the head of this family. Gonnosuke was an influential shibai proprietor, and the boy was regarded as a young aristocrat of the theatre. At the time of his adoption Gonnosuke was not married, and his mother undertook the task of bringing up the coming Danjuro in the way he should go.
From his fifth year there were but few pleasures in store for the boy. He was carried to the house of his dancing master on the back of his nurse. Once, when the seventh Danjuro visited Gonnosuke, the latter remonstrated, and said the boy would certainly be killed by his severe training. To this the grandmother sarcastically rejoined that Danjuro’s children were all dipped in tubs of sugar, but that there was some pepper mixed with it. Evidently she had no faith in the manner the Ichikawa children were managed, and time has shown the correctness of her view-point, for the boy in the care of Gonnosuke’s mother was the only one of the family to attain success. Certainly Danjuro, the ninth, appreciated the interest shown in his welfare by this old woman, for in his later years he never failed to express his appreciation of the training he received in his youth.
Afterwards Gonnosuke took a wife, and she had a son and a daughter. It was a severe disappointment when the daughter died young, for it was planned that she should marry the adopted son. Thereafter Danjuro did not get on well with his adopted mother.
A whole series of misfortunes overtook Danjuro. First, his father was ordered out of Tokyo, and his own mother accompanied him into exile. At the age of fifteen he took the name of Kawarazaki Gonnosuke. Danjuro, the eighth, committed suicide in Osaka, and this family tragedy was followed by the death of a younger and promising brother. Still another brother was unable to become an actor, as his face was marred by smallpox, and a brother adopted by Matsumoto Koshiro was not a success. Then came the destructive earthquake of 1855, and the Kawarazaki-za was entirely demolished, as was the city. There was trouble in securing a license for the reconstruction of the Kawarazaki-za; it ceased to be, and the young Gonnosuke faced a barren inheritance. In addition to all this, his adopted father was attacked and killed by robbers.
The various vicissitudes through which he passed did not prevent him from becoming an actor, and he made rapid progress in his profession. At 34 he married Masu, whom his adopted mother had chosen for him. Hard times followed, and he was obliged to travel in the provinces, but even when acting in country shibai, his Tokyo creditors followed and attempted to take the receipts. When they returned to Tokyo he and his wife had no home to go to, and took temporary shelter in the abode of one of Danjuro’s patrons.
The construction of a new playhouse, the Shintomi-za, by the energetic theatre manager, Morita Kanya, started Danjuro on a new and prosperous career. Kanya was more than willing to produce novelties that would startle Tokyo, and Danjuro set to work to make improvements in Kabuki. In this he was greatly encouraged by the famous statesman Prince Ito, and Matsuda Michiyuki, a Governor of Tokyo prefecture, who became an enthusiastic supporter of the Shintomi-za.
Morita Kanya’s innovations were often failures in that they went over the heads of the people, and the finances of the Shintomi-za were far from satisfactory. Danjuro played in a minor theatre, but ill-luck followed him, and during one of the performances fire broke out and destroyed this shibai. He escaped wearing his stage wig and costume, to the great astonishment of his family on his return home.
A signal honour was given Danjuro in 1887. He was commanded by Count Inouye to play before the Emperor. His Majesty had consented to visit the Inouye residence, and would witness a Kabuki entertainment for the first time. Not since the days of Saruwaka Kansaburo, who had danced before the Emperor in Kyoto, had there been such recognition of the officially despised play-folk.
In the beautiful Inouye garden a temporary stage was set up, and facing it a throne before which hung a thin bamboo curtain. From this elevated position the late Emperor watched the plays and expressed deep interest. The first piece was Kanjincho. The same piece was selected for presentation when the Mayor of Tokyo entertained the Prince of Wales at the Imperial Theatre in April 1922, and on this occasion the Prince Regent entered the portals of a theatre of his own land for the first time.
The Danjuro performances lasted for three days, the Emperor witnessing the plays on the first day, the Empress on the following day, and the Emperor’s mother on the last day. Takeda Izumo’s Terakoya, or The Village School, was presented before the Empress, and her sympathy and feelings were so stirred that those near Her Majesty saw tears in her eyes, and were perplexed, thinking that the play had better be stopped. The tears of an Empress over the sacrifice of Matsuomaru’s son that the heir to Michizane might live, and the loyalty of Genzo, the village schoolmaster! These were red-letter days, indeed, for the whole yakusha fraternity.