Taira (Heike)
ATSUMORI: nephew of Kiyomori; dies at Ichi-no-tani.
KIYOMORI: son of Tadamori and, after his father’s death, Taira clan head; dominates the court even after taking vows.
KOREMORI: eldest son of Shigemori; commits suicide after taking vows.
MUNEMORI: son of Kiyomori and Nun of the Second Rank and, after Shigemori’s death, Taira clan head.
ROKUDAI: son of Koremori, grandson of Shigemori, and presumptive Taira clan head after Genpei war.
SHIGEHIRA: son of Kiyomori and Nun of the Second Rank; a Taira leader largely responsible for the burning of Nara; captured at Ichi-no-tani and later executed.
SHIGEMORI: eldest son of Kiyomori and, until his early death, a restraining influence on Kiyomori.
TADAMORI: father of Kiyomori and a former Taira clan head.
Minamoto (Genji)
YORITOMO: leader of the Minamoto in the east and founder of the Kamakura shogunate after the Genpei war.
YOSHINAKA: cousin of Yoritomo and leader of the Minamoto in the north; captures Kyoto and later is killed by Yoritomo’s forces; also called Lord Kiso.
YOSHITSUNE: younger half brother of Yoritomo and one of Yoritomo’s chief commanders; defeats the Heike at Dan-no-ura.
Priests
MONGAKU: monk; incites Yoritomo to rebel against the Taira.
SHUNKAN: bishop and Shishi-no-tani conspirator.
The Bells of Gion Monastery (1:1)
The bells of the Gion monastery in India echo with the warning that all things are impermanent.1 The blossoms of the sala trees teach us through their hues that what flourishes must fade.2 The proud do not prevail for long but vanish like a spring night’s dream. In time the mighty, too, succumb: all are dust before the wind.
Long ago in a different land, Zhao Gao of the Qin dynasty in China, Wang Mang of the Han, Zhu Yi of the Liang, and An Lushan of the Tang all refused to be governed by former sovereigns. Pursuing every pleasure, deaf to admonitions, unaware of the chaos overtaking the realm, ignorant of the sufferings of the common people, before long they all alike met their downfall.
More recently in our own country there have been men like Masakado, Sumitomo, Gishin, and Nobuyori, each of them proud and fierce to the extreme. The tales told of the most recent of such men, Taira no Kiyomori, the lay priest of Rokuhara and at one time the prime minister, are beyond the power of words to describe or the mind to imagine.
Kiyomori was the oldest son and heir of Taira no Tadamori, the minister of punishments, and the grandson of Masamori, the governor of Sanuki. Masamori was a ninth-generation descendant of
Prince Kazurahara, a first-rank prince and the minister of ceremonies, the fifth son of Emperor Kanmu.
Night Attack at Courtiers’ Hall (1:2)
While Tadamori was still governor of Bizen, he built a temple called Tokujōju-in to fulfill a vow taken by the retired emperor Toba. The main hall had thirty-three bays and enshrined one thousand and one Buddhist images. The dedication ceremony took place on the thirteenth day of the Third Month in the first year of the Tenshō era [1131]. In recognition of Tadamori’s services, the retired emperor announced that he was assigning him to one of the currently vacant governorships, and Tadamori was accordingly granted the post of governor of the province of Tajima. As a further expression of the retired emperor’s gratitude, he was given permission to enter the imperial palace. Thus at the age of thirty-six, Tadamori was able for the first time to enter the palace.
Persons of privilege that they were, the courtiers resented this move and plotted a night attack on Tadamori at the time the Gosechi Harvest Banquet was to be held on the evening of the twenty-third day of the Eleventh Month of that year. Upon learning of the plot, Tadamori declared, “I am not a civil official. I was born into a warrior family, and it would bring grief to both me and my family if I were to meet with unexpected humiliation. In the end, even the first thing they teach us is to defend ourselves so that we may serve our lord!”
Tadamori therefore made preparations to meet the attack. When he entered the palace, he carried with him a large dagger thrust casually under his court dress, and as he advanced toward the dimly lit interior of the chamber, he quietly drew out the dagger and held it up by his sidelocks. It glittered like ice. The courtiers’ eyes were transfixed. In addition, among Tadamori’s retainers was a man named Sahyōe-no-jō Iesada, the grandson of an assistant director of the Carpentry Bureau named Sadamitsu, a member of the Taira clan, and the son of Shinnosaburō Daifu Iefusa. This man, wearing a greenish yellow stomach guard under his light green hunting robe and carrying a sword with a bowstring bag under his arm, waited in attendance in a small courtyard by the hall.
Their suspicions aroused, the head chamberlain and his staff sent a chamberlain of the sixth rank to question him. “Who is this person in an unfigured hunting robe3 behind the rain pipe by the bell pull?” he demanded. “You’re causing a commotion! Get out!”
But Iesada replied, “I have been told that my liege lord, the governor of Bizen, is going to be attacked tonight. So I am waiting here to see what happens. I have no intention of leaving!”
Iesada held his ground, watchful as ever. As a result, the courtiers, perhaps concluding that the time was not right, did not attack that night.
But when Tadamori was summoned into the presence of the retired emperor and invited to dance, the courtiers, pretending to accompany his movements, sang out:
This Taira (wine jar) of Ise is a vinegar (squint-eyed) jar!
Although the members of the Taira clan were descended from Emperor Kanmu, they spent very little time in the capital, being of rather lowly rank, but they had close ties to the province of Ise. Hence they came to be known as the Ise Taira, or Heishi, which is pronounced the same as the word for “wine jar,” a noted product of the Ise region. In addition, Tadamori happened to be squint eyed, which led the courtiers to make another pun.
Tadamori realized there was nothing he could do about this situation, and so before the dance performances had ended, he quietly prepared to withdraw. Proceeding to the rear of the Shishinden, the Palace Hall, he took out the dagger at his waist and, making sure that the others could see what he was doing, handed it over to one of the women attendants on duty and then left.
“How did it go?” asked Iesada, who was waiting outside.
Although Tadamori wanted to tell him, he was fearful that if he were to divulge everything, Iesada might rush in slashing. So he replied, “Nothing in particular.” …
Not surprisingly, no sooner had the Gosechi dances ended than all the courtiers began to complain to the retired emperor. “When people appear at official banquets with swords at their waists or go in and out of the palace with an armed guard, they all do so in accord with the rules laid down for such behavior. For a long time, imperial orders have regulated these matters. And yet Lord Tadamori, claiming that the person is a longtime retainer, summons this soldier in commoner’s dress to wait in attendance in the palace courtyard and then to take his place at the Gosechi banquet with a sword slung at his waist. Both actions are a gross breach of etiquette that has rarely been seen in the past. He is guilty of a double fault and should not be let off lightly! We beg you to strike his name from the roster of those permitted in the palace and to relieve him at once of his post and duties!”
Much taken aback by their censures, the retired emperor sent for Tadamori and questioned him.
The courtiers are surprised by the presence of Iesada (bottom right) in the Palace Hall and attempt to remove him, but he does not budge.
Tadamori responded: “I did not know anything at all about my retainer who was waiting in the courtyard. But recently there have been indications that certain persons were plotting against me. This man, who has been in my service for some time, got wind of this and hoped to save me from possible embarrassment. Since he acted on his own without informing me, I had no way of forestalling him. If he has committed a fault, perhaps he should be summoned for questioning.
“As for the weapon I carried, I already have handed it over to a palace attendant. Perhaps it could be brought here so that you may determine whether it is a real weapon and whether I am at fault.”
“That would seem reasonable,” replied the retired emperor.
When the weapon was brought to him and the retired emperor examined it, he discovered that although the hilt was lacquered black like that of an ordinary dagger, the blade was made of wood coated with silver foil.
“In order to avoid possible humiliation, Tadamori had thought it best to provide himself with a weapon of some sort,” the retired emperor pointed out. “But since he knew he was likely to meet with accusations later, he took the wise precaution of arming himself with a dagger made of wood. Such resourcefulness is precisely what one would expect from a warrior accustomed to carrying a bow and arrow with him. As for the retainer who stationed himself in the courtyard, he too behaved in a manner wholly appropriate to the retainer of a samurai, and therefore Tadamori is not to blame for the matter.”
Thus the retired emperor ended by praising Tadamori’s conduct, and the question of possible punishment was dropped.
The Sea Bass (1:3)
… After having risen to the office of minister of punishments, Tadamori died on the fifteenth day of the First Month in the third year of the Ninpei [1153] era at the age of fifty-eight. He was succeeded by his heir, Kiyomori.
It is said that the Taira family’s unusual fortune and prosperity were due to the divine favor shown them by the deities of the Kumano Shrine.4 Some years earlier, when Kiyomori was still governor of Aki, he made a pilgrimage to the Kumano Shrine by boat from the bay of Ise. During this time a large sea bass leaped into the boat.
“This is a mark of divine favor bestowed by the deities,” announced the ascetic in charge of the pilgrimage. “You must hurry and eat it!”
“Long ago in China a white fish leaped into the boat of King Wu of the Zhou dynasty,” Kiyomori remembered. “This must be a good omen!” Accordingly, although the members of the party had been observing the ten precepts of Buddhism and eating strictly vegetarian fare, Kiyomori had the fish cooked and fed to all his family members and samurai retainers.
Perhaps because of this, he had one stroke of good fortune after another, until in the end he rose to the post of chancellor. Moreover, Kiyomori’s sons and grandsons advanced in their official careers faster than dragons climbing up to the clouds. Such was Kiyomori’s fortune that he outshone all his ancestors of the preceding nine generations.
Page-Boy Cuts (1:4)
No matter how wise a ruler may be or what policies his chief ministers may pursue, there always will be some worthless and insignificant fellows who, when others are not around, speak slanderously of the government; such is the way of the world. And yet when the lay priest Kiyomori was in his days of glory, not a soul dared to criticize him. The reason was this.
As part of his plans, the chancellor selected some three hundred boys aged fourteen, fifteen, and sixteen; had them cut their hair short and wear red battle robes; and go here and there around the capital. If someone spoke ill of the Heike, he might escape so long as his words were not detected. But if one of these boys heard about the matter, he would alert his companions and they would break into the person’s house, confiscate his goods and belongings, tie him up, and drag him off to Rokuhara.5 As a result, whatever people saw with their eyes or knew in their heart, they never dared express it in words. If “the Rokuhara lord’s short-haired boys” were so much as mentioned, carriages and horsemen along the road would get out of the way. Even when the boys went in and out of the imperial palace, no one asked their names. For these reasons, the high officials of the capital looked the other way.
Kiyomori’s Flowering Fortunes (1:5)
Not only did Kiyomori himself climb to the pinnacle of success, but all the members of his family enjoyed great good fortune as well. Kiyomori’s eldest son, Shigemori, became a palace minister and a major captain of the left; his second son, Munemori, became a junior counselor and a major captain of the right; his third son, Tomomori, rose to the level of middle captain of the third court rank; and his grandson, Shigemori’s heir Koremori, rose to that of lesser captain of the fourth court rank. In all, sixteen members of the family became high-ranking officials; more than thirty were courtiers; and a total of more than sixty held posts as provincial governors, guards officers, or officials in the central bureaucracy. It seemed as though there were no other family in the world but this one….
In addition, Kiyomori had eight daughters, all of whom fared well in life…. One of them was made the consort of Emperor Takakura and bore him a son who became crown prince and then emperor, at which time she received the title of Kenreimon’in. Daughter of the lay priest and the prime minister, mother of the ruler of the realm, nothing further need be said about her good fortune….
Giō (1:6)
As prime minister, Kiyomori now held the entire realm within the four seas in the palm of his hand. Thus ignoring the carpings of the age and turning a deaf ear to censure, he indulged in one caprice after another. An example was the case of Giō and Ginyo, sisters renowned in the capital at that time for their skillful performance as shirabyōshi dancers. They were the daughters of a shirabyōshi dancer named Toji. Giō, the older sister, had succeeded in winning extraordinary favor with Kiyomori. Thus the younger sister, Ginyo, also enjoyed wide repute among the people of that time. Kiyomori built a fine house for their mother, Toji, providing her with a monthly stipend of a hundred piculs of rice and a hundred strings of coins, so that the entire family prospered and lived a life of ease.
The first shirabyōshi dancers in our country were two women, named Shima-no-senzai and Waka-no-mai, who introduced this type of dancing during the time of the retired emperor Toba. Such dancers originally wore white jackets of the kind called suikan and tall black hats and carried silver-hilted daggers, pretending to be male dancers. Later they dropped the black hat and dagger and simply retained the suikan jacket, at which time they became known as shirabyōshi, or “white tempo,” dancers.
As Giō became renowned among the shirabyōshi of the capital for the extraordinary favor she enjoyed, some people envied her and others spoke spitefully of her. Those who envied her would say, “What splendid good fortune this Lady Giō enjoys! Any woman entertainer would be delighted to be in her place. Her good fortune doubtless derives from the Gi element that makes up the first part of her name. We should have a try at that too!” Giichi, Gini, Gifuku, and Gitoku were some of the names that resulted.
The scorners took a different view. “How could fortune come from a name alone?” they asked. “It is due solely to good karma acquired in a previous existence!” and for the most part they declined to change their names.
After some three years had passed, another highly skilled shirabyōshi dancer appeared in the capital, a native of the province of Kaga named Hotoke, or “Buddha.” She was said to be only sixteen. Everyone in the capital, high and low alike, exclaimed over her, declaring that among all the shirabyōshi dancers of the past, none could rival her.
Lady Hotoke thought to herself, “I have won fame throughout the realm, but I have yet to realize my true ambition, to be summoned by this prime minister of the Taira clan who is now at the height of power. Since it is the practice among entertainers, why should I hold back? I will go and present myself!” Accordingly she went and presented herself at Kiyomori’s Nishi-hachijō mansion.
When Kiyomori was informed that the Lady Hotoke who enjoyed such renown in the capital at that time had come to call, he retorted, “What does this mean? Entertainers of that type should wait for a summons—they simply do not take it upon themselves to appear! I don’t care whether she’s a god or a buddha—I already have Giō in my service! Send her away!”
Refused admission in this summary manner, Hotoke was preparing to take her leave when Giō spoke to the prime minister. “It is quite customary for entertainers t
o present themselves in this way. Moreover, the girl still is young and just has happened to hit on this idea; it would be a shame to dismiss her so coldly. I, for one, would be greatly distressed. Because we are devotees of the same art, I cannot help feeling sympathy for her. Even if you do not let her dance or listen to her singing, at least admit her into your presence before you send her away. That would be the kind thing to do. Bend your principles a bit and call her in.”
“If you insist,” replied Kiyomori, “I will see her,” and he sent word to have her admitted.
Having been rudely dismissed, Lady Hotoke was about to get into her carriage and leave, but at the summons she returned and presented herself.
“I had no intention of admitting you,” Kiyomori announced when they met. “But for some reason Giō was so adamant that, as you see, I agreed to the meeting. And since you are here, I suppose I should find out what sort of voice you have. Try singing an imayō for me.”
“As you wish,” replied Lady Hotoke, and she obliged with the following song in the imayō style:
Since I met you,
I’m like the little pine destined for a thousand years!
On turtle-shape isles of your pond,
how many the cranes that flock there!6
She repeated the song, singing it over three times while all the persons present listened and looked on in wonder at her skill.
Kiyomori was obviously much impressed. “You are very good at imayō ,” he said, “and I have no doubt that your dancing is of the same order. Let’s have a look. Call in the musicians!”
When the musicians appeared, Hotoke performed a dance to their accompaniment. Everything about her was captivating, from her hairdo and costume to her appearance as a whole, and her voice was pleasing and artfully employed, so her dancing could not fail to make an impression. In fact, it far exceeded Kiyomori’s expectations, and he was so moved by her performance that he immediately fell in love with her.
The Tales of the Heike Page 2
