The Lone Samurai

by William Scott Wilson

  Musashi stayed on in Edo for another two years or so, continuing to teach students and take on opponents. His matches in 1610 with two of these opponents, Osedo Hayashi, a Yagyu stylist, and Tsujikaze Tenma, known more for his strength than his swordsmanship, are described in the Nitenki:

  When Musashi was residing in Edo, Osedo Hayashi, a samurai in the Yagyu clan, went with a certain Tsujikaze, a strong martial artist, to ask for bouts with the swordsman. Musashi gave his consent, and immediately stood and faced them. Osedo advanced and was about to strike, but Musashi took the initiative and struck first. Osedo collapsed where he stood.

  Next, Tsujikaze attacked, but for some reason fell backwards, hit his back on a waterjar at the edge of the veranda and died.17 Generally speaking, this Tsujikaze was a man of great strength. He was able, for example, to run alongside a galloping horse, and to bring it to a halt by wrapping his arms around its neck.

  By 1612 the situation in Edo had become tedious for Musashi. He was essentially barred from comparing skills with the best swordsmen of the day, such as Yagyu Munenori, because of Munenori’s connection with the Tokugawa and because of the precarious political status Musashi had after having fought for the Toyotomi. To make matters worse, the tension between these two clans was escalating day by day. The Toyotomi were ensconced in their castle at Osaka and still had the backing of a number of daimyo and ronin. So early in the year, Musashi traveled on foot to the Fujiwara area of Shimousa Province, ostensibly for the opening of new land. This was probably a ruse, because he did not stay there long, nor had he likely decided, at age twenty-nine, to give up the sword and begin a career in agriculture.

  Musashi clearly had something else in mind—and by February or March, he had already started on the long trip to the southwestern island of Kyushu.

  DEMON OF THE WESTERN PROVINCES

  Musashi’s mark for an appropriate match was Sasaki Kojiro, a swordsman popularly known as the Demon of the Western Provinces. Kojiro had arrived in the port city of Kokura in Buzen some two years earlier and, as his nickname implies, had attained great fame. Certainly he had caught everyone’s eye with his striking appearance—he wore a crimson haori with his long sword, known as the Drying Pole, slung across his back—but his skill too was astonishing and he had thus far defeated every opponent he had faced.

  Hosokawa Tadatoshi, who six years later would become the lord of Kokura, had been enamored of the martial arts from his youth and was himself a skilled practitioner of the sword. Thus, when news of Kojiro’s presence in Kokura reached him, he happily interviewed the man and soon hired him as an instructor to the Hosokawa clan. Although Kojiro was not actually taken on as a retainer to the clan, he received a substantial fee and was able to open his own dojo in the castle town, eventually gaining a great number of disciples.

  Ganryu Sasaki Kojiro was born in Jokyoji Village at Ichijogatani in Echizen. Ichijogatani was the home of the prosperous and cultured Asakura clan, who had been the lords of Echizen over the course of five generations spanning more than a hundred years. Their instructor of the martial arts was one Toda Seigen, the main heir to the Chujo-ryu. It, like the Shinto-ryu and the Kage-ryu, was a fundamental style of the Japanese martial arts and had been established as far back as the Kamakura period (1185–1333) by Chujo Hyogonosuke. Seigen himself was an extraordinarily accomplished practitioner who continued to perfect his martial art after he retired from teaching in his old age due to an eye disease. Secluding himself at his home in Jokyoji Village, he was commonly known as “the blind swordsman.” His ideal had been a technique called the “No-Sword” (muto), exemplified by the phrase, “If shortness [of the sword] is taken to an extreme, it becomes nothingness” (Tan kiwamareba mu); as his art advanced, his short sword became shorter and shorter still.

  Seigen had met Kojiro when the latter was quite young, and had recognized in him the makings of a great swordsman. For the purposes of his own research, he hired the teenaged Kojiro as a sparring partner. In their daily matches, Seigen wielded a short tachi about one-and-a-half feet long, while requiring Kojiro to oppose him with a much longer blade. With this intense training, Seigen developed a style he hoped would eventually lead to the abandonment of the sword as a weapon altogether; but for his part, Kojiro eventually gained great ability with the long sword and became one of Seigen’s top disciples. The moment of truth came when Kojiro was able to defeat Seigen’s younger brother, Jibuzaemon, in a match; at which point Kojiro went out on his own. He wandered the provinces of Japan as a shugyosha, eventually arriving in Kokura and establishing himself under Tadatoshi’s patronage.

  Musashi came to Kokura from Kyoto in April 1612, visiting the mansion of Nagaoka Sado no kami Okinaga, a chief retainer of the Kokura fief and, it will be recalled, a former student of Musashi’s father, Munisai. Musashi was now twenty-nine years old. After a short while, he made his wishes known to his host in a formal request, which records note as follows: “It would seem as though a Ganryu Sasaki Kojiro is now residing in this area, and I have heard that his technique is excellent. My request is for permission for us to have a ‘comparison of techniques.’ I make this in reference to your relationship with my father, Munisai.”

  Okinaga, whether out of deference to his old teacher or his impression of the intense Musashi, was quick to comply. Putting Musashi up at his own mansion, he contacted his lord, Tadaoki, and made the petition his own. Martial arts enthusiast that he was, Tadaoki had no doubt heard of Musashi’s bouts with the Yoshioka in Kyoto, and must have been quite curious about this man. But he was also acting out of respect for Sado, a trusted and respected retainer, when he gave his permission for a match to be held the following day, April 13.

  The place was to be a small, lonely island between Kokura and Nagato Shimonoseki, a little less than two-and-a-half miles from either shore. Known in ancient times as Anato no Shima, it was in Musashi’s time called Mukaijima (“the island over there”) by people in Buzen on the Kyushu side, and Funa Island (“boat island”) by those in Shimonoseki on the Honshu side, because of its boatlike appearance from that shore. The match was set to begin during the first half of the Hour of the Dragon (seven to nine A.M.). A decree was posted throughout the castle town and the surrounding area stating that absolutely no favoritism was to be shown either man and that spectators were strictly forbidden to travel to the island.

  Okinaga quickly informed Musashi of the decision and offered to escort him to the island the next day in his own boat. Overjoyed, Musashi thanked Okinaga for his efforts in arranging the match that he had so greatly anticipated.

  That night, however, Musashi disappeared. A search was made through the castle town, but he was nowhere to be found. Word spread quickly, as did rumors that Musashi, when confronted with the prospect of a bout with the Demon of the Western Provinces, had turned tail and run.

  Okinaga, as might be imagined, was chagrined. He had his own prestige on the line in this matter, having taken up Musashi’s petition and encouraged Lord Tadaoki to agree to the match. If Musashi had now truly fled, it would be a source of embarrassment not only for him, but worse, for Tadaoki as well. Upon some reflection, however, Okinaga realized that if Musashi really were a coward, he would not have waited until the night before the match to escape. He also reasoned that, as Musashi had come to Kokura from Shimonoseki, he may well have gone back to that city to spend the night away from the inevitable distractions in Kokura, and would probably go to the island from there.

  A courier was sent and, sure enough, Musashi was found staying in Shimonoseki at the residence of a wholesaler, Kobayashi Tarozaemon. The courier explained the situation in Kokura, and Musashi responded with a letter that demonstrated both his respect for Okinaga and his circumspection.

  I have heard that, concerning tomorrow’s match, you would send me in Your Excellency’s boat, and I am heavily honored by your solicitude. However, at this time, Kojiro and I are hostile opponents; and if Kojiro is sent by Lord Tadaoki’s boat and I am sent by Your Exc
ellency’s boat, I wonder if this would not place you in opposition with your lord.

  Please let me be of no concern to you in this affair. I considered speaking to you about this right away, but thinking that you would not agree, purposefully did not make any mention of it. I must strongly refuse Your Excellency’s boat. Tomorrow morning I will cross over to Mukaijima from this place. Please do not be the least bit concerned, and be convinced that I will come in good time.

  April 12

  Miyamoto Musashi

  —To Lord Sado—

  Musashi was clearly concerned that any sign of favoritism toward him on Okinaga’s part might result in some friction between lord and retainer, and he was determined to prevent this. His actions had predictably resulted in doubt about his courage and sincerity, but Musashi seems to have been concerned only for Okinaga’s relationship with the Hosokawa. It was important to him that this relationship would continue smoothly for his sponsor long after the following day’s bout had ended.

  Nevertheless, when the sun came up the next morning, Musashi was still sound asleep. The master of the house, Tarozaemon, woke him up and informed him that the Hour of the Dragon had already arrived. At this point, a courier came from Kokura, informing Musashi that Kojiro’s boat had already left and made the crossing. Musashi responded that he would be there soon, but then got up, washed his hands and face, and ate a leisurely breakfast. Requesting an oar from Tarozaemon, he sat and carved a large wooden sword until another courier arrived urging him to make the crossing immediately.

  Musashi then dressed himself in a silk-lined garment, folded a towel over his sash, put a wadded cotton garment over the silk one, boarded the boat and left. At the helm was Tarozaemon’s servant. Musashi sat in the middle of the boat twisting a paper string, with which he then tied back his sleeves. Finally, putting the wadded cotton garment over his head and shoulders, he lay down.

  On the island, Kojiro and the verifying officers waited with impatience and consternation. In the boat, Musashi was apparently asleep.

  In the end, Musashi arrived at Mukaijima after the Hour of the Serpent (nine to eleven A.M.). He had Tarozaemon’s servant stop the boat on a small, narrow sandspit projecting from the island, and removed the wadded cotton garment. Placing his sword in the boat and his short sword in his sash, he pulled his sleeves up high and got out of the boat, barefooted, into the shallow water. Holding his wooden sword in a lowered position, he took several steps in the little waves and walked up the beach. As he walked, he took the hand towel from his sash, folded it into the length of a hachimaki, and tied it around his head with the knot in the middle of his forehead.

  In contrast to Musashi, Kojiro was dressed colorfully in a sleeveless scarlet haori and dyed leather knickers. On his feet were new straw sandals, and in his hand was a sword over three feet long, reputedly fashioned by one of the great swordsmiths of Bizen.

  Kojiro felt insulted at having been made to wait. Seeing Musashi approaching in the distance, he rushed to the water’s edge. He angrily informed his opponent that he himself had been on the island at the appointed time and demanded to know whether Musashi had come late out of fear. Musashi silently ignored him and simply advanced. In a rage, Kojiro unsheathed his sword and dramatically threw the scabbard into the water. Musashi stood in the shallows, smiled, and uttered his now-famous words, “You’ve lost, Kojiro. Would the winner throw away his scabbard?”

  Inflamed, Kojiro moved quickly toward Musashi and swung his sword straight forward, aiming for the middle of the forehead. At the same instant, Musashi struck with his wooden sword in the same way, hitting Kojiro directly on the head. Kojiro fell where he stood. The tip of his sword had cut through the knot of Musashi’s hachimaki, and the hand towel had fluttered to the ground, but Musashi’s wooden sword had made a direct hit. Musashi lowered his sword and stood motionless for a moment, then quickly raised it to strike again. Kojiro was lying flat on the ground—but, at that moment, he wielded his sword to the side in a mowing motion, aiming for Musashi’s thigh. Musashi leapt back, and received a three-inch cut in the lining of his hakama, probably less than an inch away from his femoral artery.

  Musashi’s wooden sword now came down, splitting Kojiro’s ribs, and Kojiro, blood flowing from his mouth and nose, lost consciousness. Musashi crouched down and put his hand above Kojiro’s mouth and nose, checking for signs of life. There were none. He turned to the verifying officials, bowed briefly, then stood up and walked briskly to the beach. Jumping deftly into the boat, he helped the helmsman pole away from the island, and could soon be seen only dimly in the offing.

  It was noontime, and in the spring sea between Kokura and Shimonoseki, the bright sun reflected off the wavelets and a breeze began to rise. Musashi had fought the greatest fight of his life, one that is still discussed with great animation nearly four hundred years later.

  Musashi’s approach to the fight with Kojiro seems to have involved a two-tiered strategy. The first tier involved psychology, the same weapon he had used against the Kenpo Brothers. By making the opponent wait, he disturbed his equilibrium: anger and consternation thwarted the necessary concentration. Kojiro had had to wait in the bright morning sun, eventually, no doubt, clenching his fists in frustration. By the time Musashi arrived, refreshed and fully focused, his opponent was completely distracted by his hurt pride and impatience. The second tier was Musashi’s knowledge that Kojiro had a preference for long swords and would likely rely on the advantage of that length. It was a long sword that he had used to defeat Toda Seigen’s brother Jibuzaemon and every opponent since. Musashi therefore fashioned his oar into a wooden sword just a bit longer than Kojiro’s weapon, to take that advantage from Kojiro and make it his own. According to the Kokura Hibun:

  Ganryu said, “I would like to settle the match with real swords.” Musashi replied, “You handle a naked blade and show me every mystery it has. I will raise my wooden sword and manifest its secrets.” Thus the promise was made as hard as lacquer.

  Musashi’s “secret” may have been as little as one inch. At any rate, many years later, in the Wind chapter of The Book of Five Rings, he would warn his students against depending on the length of a weapon:

  There are other styles that prefer a long sword. From the standpoint of my own martial art, this can be seen as a weak style. The reason is this: not knowing how to defeat others in any situation, they put virtue in the length of their sword and think they can win by the distance from their opponent.

  Those who prefer long swords will have their explanation, but it is only their own individual quibbling. It is unreasonable when seen from the True Way in this world.

  But Kojiro was just as famous for his lethal tsubame-gaeshi (“swallow return”) style. Seigen himself seems to have initiated this style, but it was Kojiro who developed it further, or at least made it famous. The technique itself is not well understood today, but it seems to have been based on an instantaneous return of the blade after the first strike, and it was probably modeled after or compared to the swallow showing its white underside when suddenly reversing its course in midflight. The Ganryu hidensho describes it this way:

  The sword is held straight ahead, as though to strike the opponent on the forehead. Advancing straight ahead, you keep your eye on the tip of your opponent’s nose. Then, striking all the way to the ground, you immediately bend down to a crouch, bring your sword up over your shoulder, and thereby defeat your opponent.

  In other words, the first strike is a feint, and it is the return strike that is the actual attack. Essentially, this is a kaeshiwaza, or “returning technique.”

  Kojiro, nevertheless, did not use his famous technique against Musashi, unless the final strike at Musashi’s thigh might be considered the “return.” Instead, he went straight for his opponent in a jodan position, his long sword held high over his head. What happened? Was Kojiro too rattled to use the technique that had always brought him success? Was there a fear factor? Certainly he, too, was aware that Musas
hi had single-handedly dismantled the Yoshioka, but that was a decade earlier. Did he simply not have time for a return blow when Musashi’s wooden sword cracked down on his skull? We will never know. But the old swordsmen’s saying, “To catch a tiger, you must enter the tiger’s den,” may apply here. In this one strike, Musashi must have been within an inch of Kojiro’s very real and very sharp blade as it made its downward swing. His timing and sense of distance had to be perfect. As it was, his hachimaki was neatly severed by Kojiro’s sword, and it was the knot of that towel that received the tip of the blade of the Drying Pole.

  To say that Musashi had perfectly calculated the strikes of the two swords misses the point, however, for what brought him the victory was nothing so cerebral. Musashi himself addressed the matter in the Emptiness chapter of The Book of Five Rings, noting that all techniques and actions of either mind or body must have their foundations in Zen Buddhist Emptiness: “The heart of Emptiness is in the absence of anything with form and the inability to have knowledge thereof. This I see as Emptiness. Emptiness, of course, is nothingness. Knowing the existent, you know the nonexistent. This, exactly, is Emptiness.”

  The reader senses that in the absence of Musashi’s intuition and discipline, language itself fails here. Thus we go back to Mukai Island (Mukaijima), now called Ganryu Island (Ganryujima; jima means “island”), time and again, looking for the key to the most famous one-on-one fight in Japanese history. Until we are able to enter Musashi’s spirit that day, however, we will be left with only the sand and the sound of waves on this little island.

  It is interesting to note that Musashi was asked years later why he did not deliver a todome, or coup de grâce, to Kojiro. His response was that such an action was for true enemies, and there had been no enmity between himself and his opponent. Their match was one of a “comparison of techniques.”

  There are two meanings to the word todome that might apply to this case. The first and more common meaning is a simple stab to the throat that quickly and reliably ends a fallen man’s life, but this would make little sense in the context of this match: Kojiro had died immediately from the combination of Musashi’s two blows. The more esoteric meaning, however, is to finish off the opponent in a manner that prevents his angry spirit from returning to take revenge. In this case, the todome would have been delivered by stabbing him “just below the left nipple and twisting the blade from edge up to edge downward as it was withdrawn.”18 Musashi’s response indicated that he understood the question in terms of this second meaning, and that there was no need for such a todome. Kojiro himself had been eager for the match and, while his spirit might lament the result, it would honor Musashi for his victory.