“Mother’s words sent me flying to get ready for battle. The women in my family who still were at home saw me off at the door. As I walked out, my grandmother said to me in a loud voice: ‘We will be waiting for you in the nether world.’ My sisters also shouted to my back: ‘Please! Show your courage!’ Knowing that these would be the last words I would hear from them, I felt the profundity of the sadness and could only keep wiping my eyes.
“After I left, the women in my family gathered in front of the altar. Burning a stick of incense to the memorial tablet of the ancestors, they prayed for the last time: ‘Now that things have come to this, there is nothing more that needs to be said. Rather than stealing a life of disgrace now only to regret it later, we prefer a dignified death for the sake of the domain. Our death will not only spare the men of our household the trouble of worrying about us, but it will also serve to demonstrate the true samurai spirit nurtured in this land of Aizu for three hundred years. The only regret we have is that the single-minded loyalty that our lord has held for many years has served only to bring us the shame of a traitor. The mortification will never be cleared even if the sea runs dry and the rocks crumble.’ At the time, my little sister was barely five years old. My mother said to her: ‘The enemy soldiers are bearing down on us. I am taking you to the underworld, and we will wait for your father and brothers there. I heard that the roads in the underworld are pitch dark. Now that all our family have died and no one is burning incense to light our path, we must hold onto each other so that we won’t get lost or be separated.’ So saying, my mother set our house on fire and, together with the other women of my family, met her death heroically. How tragic it is!”
At this point, the three patriots who were listening to Sanshi’s tale could no longer control their sobbing.
Sanshi’s tale still continued.
“An isolated army fell into a tight circle. The smoke of gunpowder covering the sky was so thick that even the sun lost its brilliance. The piercing snowstorm was cold, and the food was gone. Every day, more and more soldiers were wounded or died, and there was no hope of reinforcements. The castle held back the government troops for a month before it finally surrendered. In that battle, many women secretly took up arms and joined the ranks, and they suffered heavy casualties. When one woman learned that her husband, father-in-law, and brothers-in-law all had been killed in combat, she decided to commit suicide. She first killed her mother-in-law and her only child with a sword, then she composed the following waka:
Oh, do you people know?
We, who cannot defend
Our castle town,
Our loyal heart is burning red
With our houses and bodies!
“Finally, she set her house on fire and took her own life.
“There was a girl. She was so filled with grief and indignation when she heard about the domain’s surrender that she bit her own fingers and wrote the following poem in blood on the wall:
How would I know,
A maiden living deep in the boudoir,
That our lord, the daimyō of the domain,
Has raised the white flag on top of the castle?
“Thereupon, she hanged herself on a pine tree in front of the castle.
“Another woman took out her hairpin and wrote a waka with it on the wall of the castle:
From tomorrow,
People from what town
Will be viewing the moonlight
Shining on the castle,
A scene so dear to me?
Then she cut her hair and started to pray for those who had died in the battle.
“Among the surviving soldiers there were those who intended to commit suicide. A commander came out and reprimanded them, saying that rather than dying a worthless death, we all must swallow the humiliation of defeat and stay alive. Only in that way, when troubles come from outside Japan some day in the future, can we swear to throw our lives to the bullets and spearheads for the sake of our divine land. Only when we die in that manner can the matter finally be settled whether we had been right or wrong, loyal or traitorous. . . .”
Because of the charges that he was involved in the October 8 incident, Sanshi was put in a prison in Hiroshima. The prison cell was merely a few square feet large, and Sanshi could barely stretch out his legs when he lay down. He was bored but could find nothing to distract himself. In the dead of one night when all was quiet, he suddenly saw two Koreans at the side of his prison bed, one of whom was Yi Pungwong and the other Kim Okkyun. Sanshi turned to Kim Okkyun first and said:
“You were wronged last year, and today I have been treated unjustly too.”
Hearing this, Kim Okkyun asked for a detailed account of what he meant. Then Yi Pungwong gave an account of the October 8 incident and his own involvement in it.
“As soon as Queen Min and her followers took control again a few years ago, she disbanded the imperial guards being trained by the Japanese, poisoned the Taewŏn’gun3 and executed tens of key pro-Japanese figures in the Korean government, including Prime Minister Kim Hong-ji. She also tried to cede Korea’s northern territory to Russia in exchange for Russian protection as well as to restore her old way of ruling the country. At that point, we began plotting a secret scheme to deal with the situation. We decided to take preemptive measures by adopting our strategy from last year. Unfortunately, however, a spy revealed our secret to foreigners. Therefore the stunned foreigners immediately sent detectives all around to gather information about our plot. But our activities did not appear to differ from our daily routine. Some foreign envoys even visited the Japanese legation in Seoul, but the Japanese minister was talking and joking as if nothing was going to happen and the whole legation was extremely quiet. Thereupon, the foreign envoys said to one another:
“‘Last year when the Japanese were about to start an incident, people and horses gathered in this legation compound, and the Japanese residents in Seoul were so restless that they appeared as if they were about to leave for a battle. But today, given this solitude and quiet, any plot or conspiracy would be out of the question.’
“That night, prominent people on our side held a moon-viewing party. Poem-chanting voices spread in four directions. Upon hearing our party, Queen Min’s henchmen became even more convinced that the rumor about our plot was totally groundless. They were so gleeful that they said to one another:
“‘Those bastards are still not aware of our big plan. Excellent. Tomorrow night, with a single blow, we shall wipe out all of them, along with their families and relatives.’
“Thereafter, Queen Min’s henchmen also held a moon-viewing party of their own, during which they danced while drinking and singing. They did not even notice that the moon had reached its zenith.
“When midnight was approaching, seven or eight of our comrades, together with fifteen or sixteen Japanese, visited the Taewŏn’gun at his villa in Kongdokni. After explaining to him how urgent the matter had become, our crowd escorted him in a sedan chair toward the palace. The moon was bright at the time and the stars were shining, with willow trees casting shadows on the ground as in daylight. It was a weirdly quiet night, and nothing could be heard, from either human beings or horses. When I looked up at the moon, however, the drifting clouds suddenly moved faster in the sky. Phoebe took back her radiance; the handle of the Big Dipper was hanging low; and golden dew began to fall all across the sky. Before the day dawned, the matter of paramount importance was settled. But whoever would have expected that Queen Min would have fallen that night?!
“Just as we thought that the time had finally come for us to plan seriously for the future of our country, the news came that the Americans living in Seoul, either to collect private gains or simply to express their political sentiments, began to report the incident in an exaggerated manner by citing one another among themselves. Japanese authorities became frightened when they heard about the report.
“‘If even the Americans, being outsiders and impartial, present such a report, we can
only imagine what really happened.’ The Japanese government was so much at a loss that it did not know what to do. In the first place, it did not realize that the stories fabricated by the Americans should not be accepted as truth. . . . Eventually, the Japanese minister was arrested, along with some fifty-odd Japanese soldiers, and sentenced to death. In so doing, Japanese government hoped to demonstrate to the world that it had played no role in the scheme. In addition, behind the scenes, the Japanese government also tried to apologize to one or two powerful nations for the incident. Alas, don’t past events seem like a dream now? Certainly the unfair charges and imprisonment today are as unbelievable as what we see in a drama.
“Since then, the situation in our country has changed dramatically as well. A victim of the villains’ suspicion and poisonous tongues, I was arrested as the chief plotter in the assassination of Queen Min and faced capital punishment. When my comrades saw the ominous signs, they all disappeared immediately without leaving a single trace. But I did not follow them, since I had already passed the milestone of sixty years of age and could not bear the idea of fleeing to Japan again and leading the life of an exile. Moreover, I said to myself that for a long time, His Majesty had known that the queen was too much a shrew to be able to be tamed, that she might plunge the nation into a disaster. For that reason, as soon as the queen was assassinated, she would be deprived of her royal title and be demoted to a commoner. Furthermore, those living in Seoul would think of her death as a retribution from heaven; neither soldiers nor common people would mourn her death; and no stores or markets would be closed to commemorate her. Finally, there were Japanese counselors at court and government officials with whom I had worked. So, I thought, even if I were arrested, it should not be too difficult for me to prove my innocence.
“However, who would have expected the capriciousness of the human mind? Eventually, I was framed and my soul was made to wander forever in the imperial palace. My heart is as loyal as blood is red, and my integrity is as pure as frost is white. But if no one recognizes that, what can I do about it?”
So saying, Yi Pungwong stood up with a deep sigh and wrote a kanshi on the wall of the prison cell which reads:
The palace is quiet with the court music cut short,
The exceeding beauty of the queen is now merely a dream.
Last night, when a ghost fire was burning blue in the prison cell,
Where should a wondering soul mourn the tears of the beauty?
Thereupon Kim Okkyun said to Yi Pungwong: “When a country is well governed and peaceful, no one idiot can plunge it into turmoil; when a country is in turmoil, no one wise man can govern it in peace. Trudging in a filthy world and complaining that virtue is not practiced is just like hobbling a racehorse and blaming it for not galloping a thousand miles a day. When the whole world is in turmoil, no country is free from trouble; when a whole country is in turmoil, no household is free from trouble; when a whole household is in turmoil, no individual in the household is free from trouble. If a fire is burning on Mount Kunlun, jade and rocks alike will be turned into ashes; if a severe frost attacks during the night, both orchids and mugwort will wither. Oh, once, when remonstrating with the king, you argued so strenuously that you did not leave the imperial palace for three days and nights, but in the end you were punished for it. Now you have fallen victim to the slanderous tongues of your colleagues—even your old master the Taewŏn’gun could not protect you. All this is fate.
“I had been spared from nine deaths imposed on me by either slanderous tongues or the shower of bullets, but in the end my life was taken by the dagger of a murderer and my body was cut into eight pieces and exposed to the eight provinces. This also is fate.
“Now, as good as Tōkai Sanshi might have been at dodging misfortunes, this time he is implicated in the assassination of Queen Min and has been put in prison. Isn’t that fate, too?
“In the ancient times in China, Boyi and Shuqi died as victims of a beauty’s words; Mencius was put into great trouble by Zang Cang’s calumny. If sages and saints are no exception, let alone ordinary souls like us, why should we ask about the right or wrong of the way of heaven? Now, you and I are separated from Sanshi by the river of Hades. Your death is like a bright sun that drives away the darkness over Sanshi and others and proves their innocence in the assassination. My only regret is that the cause of Korea’s independence and political reform under Japanese support will come to naught. . . . But all this is meant by heaven, and there is nothing human beings can do about it. Nevertheless, the most pliant can overcome the most rigid; water can overcome stone, as Laozi put it. Therefore, the only thing that keeps my hope alive for the future of my country is that the pliancy of Korea will stand against the rigidity of powerful countries; I pray for the eternal existence of my country—but that is the secret of the heaven and is not for human beings to know.”
Upon hearing this, Sanshi suddenly awoke and realized that the visit of the two Koreans to the prison cell turned out to be a dream of his behind the iron bars. When he woke up, snow was falling outside the pitch dark walls of the cell. In the long, dark night, the only thing he could hear was the clattering of the boots of the prison guards pacing back and forth in the corridor.
POETRY
In 1881 a collection of songs to be used in primary or elementary schools throughout Japan was compiled by Izawa Shūji (1851–1917) under the aegis of the Ministry of Education. The title of the collection was Primary School Songbook (Shōgakko shōkashū). Although the purpose for the collection was to inculcate Neo-Confucian ethical and moral values in children, the songs often are claimed to be the first manifestation of a new musical education for Meiji Japan. More important, they were to have established in the popular imagination a truly indigenous, homespun but modern tradition of demotic verse. The Primary School Songbook predated the famous Selection of Poetry in the New Style (Shintaishi shō), most of which were translations of Western poetry, which was published the following year. The following two poems are from the Primary School Songbook. All the introductions and translations are by Leith Morton.
SPRING BLOSSOMS INTO FLOWER (HANA SAKU HARU)
A glorious morning when spring blossoms into flower.
How wonderful! The fragrant clouds rising.
The autumn bush clover. Eulalia ears. Flowers blossom in confusion.
From one end to the other. Leaf tips overflowing with dew.
BUTTERFLIES (CHŌCHŌ, BY NOMURA AKITARI AND INAGAKI CHIKAI)
1
Butterflies butterflies. Stop on the rape-flower leaves!
If you are tired of the rape-flower leaves, stop on the cherry blossoms!
In this imperial reign where the cherry blossoms flourish.
Stop and play! Play and stop!
2
Awake awake! Roosting sparrows.
Before the morning sunlight enters.
Come out from your nests. Stop on the treetops!
Play, sparrows, play! Sing, sparrows, sing!
YUASA HANGETSU
Yuasa Hangetsu (1858–1943) was born in Yasunaka village in Gunma Prefecture. At his graduation ceremony in 1885 at Dōshisha University in Kyoto, he read his long poem “Twelve Stones” (Jūni no ishizuka), based on the book of Joshua (4:1–9). The poem was then published privately in the same year. This was the first individual collection of “new-style” (shintaishi, or Western-style) verse ever to be published in Japan. Later, from 1885 to 1891, Hangetsu studied theology at Yale University in the United States and became a noted translator of the Old Testament.
TWELVE STONES (JŪ NI NO ISHIZUKA)
Chapter 1: Prologue
Perhaps there is no point in seeking
On the white beach in the shades of the pines
The ancient past where the white waves know nothing
On the stony shore at Wakanoura
Oh, goddess of verse!
Let me ride on the wings
Of the holy doves who play
In the gar
den of heaven
My lord, let us go and see
The plains of Judea where
The winds make cool ripples
On the river Jordan flowing over stones
Half-hidden beneath the shade of the tall willows
The deep blue waters of the Jordan
Seven miles of white wall
Where the deep flourishing fronds of the palm trees
Almost bury the tall buildings
Of Jericho touched by the morning sun
A monument to God
Standing tall among the lilies
Blossoming on the hills of Gilgal
Twelve stones.
UEKI EMORI
Ueki Emori (1857–1892) was born in Iguchi village in Tosa domain on the island of Shikoku in 1857 and studied translations of Western literature at the domain school. In 1875 he went to Tokyo, where he became a leading political figure in the Freedom and People’s Rights movement. In the first general election in 1890, Ueki was elected to the Diet (Japan’s parliament), where he campaigned for a democratic constitution. His volume of “new-style” (shintaishi) verse, Forest of Free Poetry (Jiyū shirin, 1887), is explicitly political and didactic and thus shares much with the pioneering 1882 volume Selection of Poetry in the New Style, which includes five original Japanese poems, as well as translations of Western poetry. The following poem is from Forest of Free Poetry.
The Columbia Anthology of Modern Japanese Literature: From Restoration to Occupation, 1868-1945: vol. 1 (Modern Asian Literature Series) Page 8