Traditional Japanese Literature

by Haruo Shirane

Since further action could not be postponed, on the seventh day of the same month Kiyomori’s remains were cremated at Otagi in the capital.144 The Buddhist priest Enjitsu placed the ashes in a bag hung around his neck and journeyed with them down to the province of Settsu, where he deposited them in a grave on Sutra Island.

  Kiyomori’s name had been known throughout the land of Japan, and his might had set men trembling. But in the end his body was no more than a puff of smoke ascending in the sky above the capital, and his remains, after tarrying a little while, in time mingled with the sands of the shore where they were buried, dwindling at last into empty dust.

  The Taira are able to beat back a Minamoto advance but cannot press the attack into the Minamoto strongholds in the east. Several obvious signs—the death of the leader of a Taira campaign, the deaths of priests praying for Taira victory and prosperity—foreshadow defeat for the Taira. Nevertheless, Munemori, the leader of the Taira clan and commander in chief of their armies, spends his time solidifying his position in the court bureaucracy.

  Book Seven

  The Taira summon warriors from all the provinces, but those who gather are mainly from the west. This army goes north to attack Yoshinaka and his troops. Yoshinaka traps and crushes the Taira army at both Kurikara Valley and Shinohara. Sanemori, an elderly Taira vassal, had pledged to die fighting during the battle at Shinohara.

  TADANORI LEAVES THE CAPITAL (7:16)

  Taira no Tadanori, the governor of Satsuma, returned once more to the capital, although where he had been in the meantime is uncertain. Accompanied by five mounted warriors and a page, a party of seven horsemen in all, he rode along Gojō Avenue to the residence of Fujiwara no Shunzei.145 The gate of Shunzei’s mansion was closed and showed little sign of opening.

  When Tadanori announced his name, there was a bustle inside the gate, and voices called out, “Those men who fled from the city have come back!” Tadanori dismounted from his horse and spoke in a loud voice. “There is no cause for alarm. I have come back merely because I have something I would like to say to His Lordship. You need not open the gate—if you could just have him come here a moment….”

  “I was expecting this,” said Shunzei. “I’m sure he won’t make any trouble—let him in.”

  The gate was opened and Shunzei confronted his caller, whose whole bearing conveyed an air of melancholy.

  “You have been good enough to give me instruction for some years,” said Tadanori, “and I hope I have not been entirely unworthy of your kindness. But the disturbances in the capital in the last two or three years and the uprisings in the provinces have deeply affected all the members of my clan. Although I have not intended in any way to neglect my poetry studies, I fear I have not been as attentive to you as I should have been.

  “The emperor has already left the capital, and the fortunes of my family appear to have run out. I heard some time ago that you were going to compile an anthology of poetry at the request of the retired emperor. I had hoped that, if you would be so kind as to give your assent, I might have perhaps one poem included in it in fulfillment of my lifelong hopes. But then these disorders descended on the world and the matter of the anthology had to be put aside, a fact that grieves me deeply.

  “Should the state of the world become somewhat more settled, perhaps work on the anthology can be begun. I have here a scroll of poems. If in your kindness you could find even one of them to be worthy of inclusion, I will continue to rejoice long after I have gone to my grave and will forever be your guardian in the world beyond.”

  Reaching through the opening in his armor, Tadanori took out a scroll of poems and presented it to Lord Shunzei. From among the poems he had composed in recent years, he had selected some hundred or so that he thought were of superior quality and had brought them with him now that he was about to take final leave of the capital.

  As Shunzei opened the scroll and looked at it, he said, “Since you see fit to leave me with this precious memento of your work, you may rest assured that I will not treat it lightly. Please have no doubts on that score. And that you should present it to me now, as a token of your deep concern for the art of poetry, makes the gesture more moving than ever—so much so that I can scarcely hold back the tears!”

  Overjoyed at this response, Tadanori replied, “Perhaps I will find rest beneath the waves of the western ocean; perhaps my bones will be left to bleach on the mountain plain. Whatever may come, I can now take leave of this uncertain world without the least regret. And so I say good-bye!”

  With these words he mounted his horse, knotted the cords of his helmet, and rode off toward the west. Shunzei stood gazing after until the figure had receded far into the distance. And then it seemed that he could hear Tadanori reciting in a voice loud enough to be heard from afar:

  Long is the journey before me—my thoughts race

  with the evening clouds over Wild Goose Mountain.

  Deeply grieved at the parting, Shunzei wiped back the tears as he turned to reenter his house.

  Later, after peace had been restored and Shunzei had begun compiling the anthology known as the Senzaishū [The Collection of a Thousand Years],146 he recalled with deep emotion his farewell meeting with Tadanori and the words that the latter had spoken on that occasion. Among the poems that Tadanori had left behind were several that might have been included in the anthology. But since the anthology was being compiled by imperial command, Shunzei did not feel that he could refer to Tadanori by name. Instead, he selected one poem entitled “Blossoms in the Old Capital” and included it with the notation “author unknown.” The poem read:

  In ruins now, the old capital of Shiga by the waves,

  yet the wild cherries of Nagara still bloom as before.

  Because Tadanori was among those branded as enemies of the sovereign, perhaps less might have been said about him. And yet there is great pathos in his story.

  Book Eight

  Retired Emperor GoShirakawa chooses his fourth son to be the new crown prince and installs him as emperor, a rival to the Taira’s sovereign, Antoku. No longer able to muster an army, the Taira are forced to take to the sea. Yoritomo is appointed shogun by Emperor GoShirakawa and subsequently requests an order to subjugate Yoshinaka, whose men have been plundering the capital. After Yoshinaka commits other excesses, Yoritomo is given permission to move against him and sends an army westward under the command of his brother Yoshitsune.

  Book Nine

  KANEHIRA (Imai): retainer of Yoshinaka and son of his wet nurse.

  KUMAGAE NAOZANE (Minamoto): warrior.

  MUNEMORI (Taira): son of Kiyomori and Taira clan head.

  NORITSUNE (Taira): nephew of Kiyomori.

  SHIGEHIRA (Taira): son of Kiyomori; accused of the crime of burning Nara.

  TADANORI (Taira): brother of Kiyomori, warrior, and avid poet.

  YOSHINAKA (Minamoto): commander who defeats the Taira but is later attacked by Yoritomo; also called Lord Kiso.

  YOSHITSUNE (Minamoto): half brother of Yoritomo; sent to the capital to destroy Yoshinaka.

  Yoshitsune’s punitive army arrives just as Yoshinaka’s forces are at their weakest. Yoshinaka tries to set up defensive positions at Seta and Uji, outside the capital, but Yoshitsune is able to enter the capital and rescue Emperor GoShirakawa. Yoshinaka, who had earlier entered the capital with fifty thousand warriors, is forced to flee on horseback with six other riders.

  THE DEATH OF LORD KISO (9:4)

  Lord Kiso had brought with him from Shinano two women attendants, Tomoe and Yamabuki. Yamabuki had remained in the capital because of illness. Of these two, Tomoe, fair complexioned and with long hair, was of exceptional beauty. As a fighter she was a match for a thousand ordinary men, skilled in arms, able to bend the stoutest bow, on horseback or on foot, ever ready with her sword to confront any devil or god that came her way. She could manage the most unruly horse and gallop down the steepest slopes. Lord Kiso sent her into battle clad in finely meshed armor and equipped with a sword of un
usual size and a powerful bow, depending on her to perform as one of his leading commanders. Again and again she emerged unrivaled in feats of valor. And this time too, even though so many of Lord Kiso’s other riders had fled from his side or been struck down, Tomoe was among the six who remained with him.

  Certain reports claimed that Yoshinaka was heading toward Tanba by way of Long Slope; others, that he had crossed over Ryūge Pass and was proceeding to the northern provinces. In fact he was fleeing west toward Seta, anxious to discover where Imai Kanehira and his men were. Meanwhile, Imai had been defending his position at Seta with the eight hundred or more men under him. But when his forces had been reduced by fighting to a mere fifty riders, he furled his banners and started back toward the capital, thinking that his superior in command, Yoshinaka, must be wondering about him. In Ōtsu, at a place on the Lake Biwa shore called Uchide, he met up with Lord Kiso as the latter was headed west.

  While still some distance apart, Lord Kiso and Imai recognized each other and spurred their horses forward in anticipation of the meeting. Seizing Imai’s hand, Lord Kiso exclaimed, “I had intended to die in the fighting in the riverbed at Rokujō, but I wanted so much to find out what had become of you. That’s why I dodged my way through all those enemy troops and slipped off so I could come here!”

  “Your words do me great honor,” replied Imai. “I, too, had fully expected to die in the encounter at Seta, but I hastened here in hopes of finding out how you were faring.”

  “The bonds that link us have not come to an end yet!” said Lord Kiso. “My own forces have been broken up and scattered by the enemy, but they have most likely taken shelter in the hills and woods hereabouts and are still in the vicinity. Unfurl those banners you are carrying and raise them high!”

  When Imai hoisted the banners, more than three hundred friendly horsemen, spotting them, gathered around, some having escaped from the capital, others from the troops that had fled from Seta.

  Yoshinaka was overjoyed. “With a force this size, there’s no reason we can’t fight one last battle!” he said. “Whose men are those I see massed there in the distance?”

  “I believe they’re under the command of Lord Ichijō Tadayori of Kai.”

  “How many men would you say there are?”

  “Some six thousand or more, I would judge.”

  “They will make an excellent opponent. If we are to die in any case, let’s confront a worthy foe and meet death in the midst of a great army!” With these words, he spurred his horse forward.

  That day Yoshinaka was wearing a red brocade battle robe and a suit of finely laced armor. He had a horned helmet on his head and carried a sword of forbidding size. On his back was a quiver containing the arrows left from the day’s fighting, fledged with eagle tail-feathers, their tips projecting above his head, and in his hand he grasped a bow bound with rattan. He rode his famed horse Oniashige or Demon Roan, a powerful beast of brawny build, and was seated in a gold-rimmed saddle.

  Raising himself up in his stirrups, he called out his name in a loud voice. “From times past you’ve heard of him: Kiso no Kanja. Now take a look at him! Minamoto no Yoshinaka, director of the Imperial Stables of the Left, governor of Iyo, the Rising Sun Commander! And you, I hear, are Ichijō of Kai. We are well matched. Come attack me and show that man in Kamakura—Yoritomo—what you can do!” Shouting these words, he galloped forward.

  Ichijō of Kai addressed his troops. “The one who just spoke is the commander. Don’t let him get away, men! After him, you young fellows! Attack!” Vastly superior in number, Ichijō’s troops surrounded Yoshinaka, each man eager to be the first to get at him.

  Encircled by more than six thousand enemy horsemen, Yoshinaka’s three hundred galloped forward and backward, left and right, employing the spider-leg formation and the cross-formation in their efforts to escape from the circle. When they finally succeeded in breaking through to the rear, only fifty of them were left.

  Free at last, they then found their path blocked by more than two thousand horsemen under the command of Toi no Jirō Sanehira. Battling their way through them, they confronted four or five hundred of the enemy here, two or three hundred there, a hundred and fifty in another place, a hundred in still another, dashing this way and that until only five riders, Yoshinaka and four of his followers, remained. Tomoe, still uninjured, was among the five.

  Lord Kiso turned to her. “Hurry, hurry now! You’re a woman—go away, anywhere you like!” he said. “I intend to die in the fighting. And if it looks as though I’m about to be captured, I’ll take my own life. But I wouldn’t want it said that Lord Kiso fought his last battle in the company of a woman!”

  But Tomoe did not move. When Lord Kiso continued to press her, she thought to herself, “Ah! If only I had a worthy opponent so I could show him one last time what I can do in battle!”

  While she was hesitating, they encountered thirty horsemen under the command of Onda no Moroshige, a warrior of the province of Musashi who was renowned for his strength. Tomoe charged into the midst of Onda’s men, drew her horse up beside his, and, abruptly dragging him from his seat, pressed his head against the pommel of her saddle. After holding him motionless for a moment, she wrenched off his head and threw it away. Then she threw off her helmet and armor and fled somewhere in the direction of the eastern provinces.

  Of the other remaining horsemen, Tezuka Tarō was killed in the combat and Tezuka no Bettō fled. Only two men, Lord Kiso and Imai, remained.

  “Up until now I never gave a thought to my armor, but today it seems strangely heavy!” said Lord Kiso.

  “You can’t be tired yet, my lord,” said Imai, “and your horse is in good shape. A few pounds of choice armor could not weigh on you that heavily. It’s just that your spirits are flagging because we have so few men left. You still have me, though, and you should think of me as a thousand men. I still have seven or eight arrows, and I’ll use them to keep the enemy at bay. Those trees you see there in the distance are the pine groves of Awazu. Go over among those trees and make an end of things!”

  As they spurred their horses onward, they spied a new group of some fifty mounted warriors heading toward them. “Hurry over to that grove of pines! I’ll hold off these men!” he repeated.

  “I ought to have died in the fighting in the capital,” said Lord Kiso, “but I’ve come this far because I wanted to die with you. Rather than dying one here and the other there, it’s better that we die together!”

  When Lord Kiso insisted on galloping at his side, Imai leaped to the ground, seized the bit of Lord Kiso’s horse, and declared, “No matter how fine a name a warrior may make for himself at most times, if he should slip up at the last, it could mean an everlasting blot on his honor. You are tired and we have no more men to fight with us. Suppose we become separated in combat and you are surrounded and cut down by a mere retainer, a person of no worth at all! How terrible if people were to say, ‘Lord Kiso, famous throughout the whole of Japan—done in by so-and-so’s retainer!’ You must hurry to that grove of pines!”

  “If it must be—” said Lord Kiso, and he turned his horse in the direction of the Awazu pines.

  Imai, alone, charged into the midst of the fifty enemy horsemen. Rising up in his stirrups, he shouted in a loud voice, “Up to now you’ve heard reports of me—now take a look with your own eyes! Imai no Shirō Kanehira, foster brother of Lord Kiso, thirty-three years of age. Even the lord of Kamakura has heard of me. Come cut me down and show him my head!”

  Then, fitting his eight remaining arrows to his bow in rapid succession, he sent them flying. With no thought for his own safety, he proceeded to shoot down eight of the enemy riders. Then, drawing his sword, he charged now this way, now that, felling all who came within reach of his weapon, so that no one dared to face him. He took many trophies in the process. His attackers encircled him with cries of “Shoot him! Shoot him!” But although the arrows fell like rain, they could not pierce his stout armor or find any opening to get th
rough, and so he remained uninjured.

  Meanwhile, Lord Kiso galloped off alone toward the Awazu pine grove. It was the twenty-first day of the first lunar month, and evening was approaching. The winter rice paddies were covered with a thin layer of ice, and Lord Kiso, unaware of how deep the water was, allowed his horse to stumble into one of them. In no time the horse had sunk into the mud until its head could not be seen. He dug in with his stirrups again and again, laid on lash after lash with his whip, but could not get the animal to move.

  Wondering what had become of Imai, he turned to look behind him, when one of the enemy riders who had been pursuing him, Ishida Tamehisa of Miura, drew his bow far back and shot an arrow that pierced the area of Lord Kiso’s face unprotected by his helmet. Mortally wounded, he slumped forward, the bowl of his helmet resting on the horse’s head, whereupon two of Ishida’s retainers fell on him and cut off his head. Ishida impaled the head on the tip of his sword and, raising it high in the air, shouted, “Lord Kiso, famed these days throughout all of Japan, has been killed by Ishida no Jirō Tamehisa of Miura!”

  Although Imai had continued to battle the enemy, when he heard this, he asked, “Who is left now to go on fighting for? You lords of the eastern provinces, I’ll show you how the bravest man in all Japan takes his life!” Then he thrust the tip of his sword into his mouth and flung himself down from his horse in such a way that the sword passed through his body, and so he died. Thus there was no real battle at Awazu.

  As the Genji fight among themselves, the Taira return to the old capital at Fukuhara and establish a stronghold at Ichi-no-tani near the shore (of what is now the city of Kobe), protected to the north by steep mountains and to the south by the Inland Sea. Yoshitsune prepares to attack, but the Taira’s position at Ichi-no-tani seems impervious to a direct assault.

  THE DEATH OF ATSUMORI (9:16)