Halfway down, they began calling out their battle cries, and as the voices of the three thousand horsemen came echoing back from the surrounding hills, they sounded like the shouts of one hundred thousand.
The men under Murakami Yasukuni began setting fires and before long had burned down all the Heike barracks and makeshift buildings. By chance, a strong wind was blowing and black smoke billowed through the air, throwing the Heike soldiers into such panic that they scrambled toward the beaches fronting the encampment, certain that in that direction lay their only hope for escape.
A number of boats were drawn up in readiness along the shore, but the fleeing troops were in such haste to board them that at times four or five hundred or even a thousand men, all fully armed, struggled to get into a single boat, impossible as that was. After advancing no more than three hundred and fifty yards from shore, three large vessels sank before the eyes of the onlookers.
Thereafter, the order went out: “Persons of rank are to be allowed aboard, underlings are not!” and swords and halberds were used to enforce it. But even after the order became known, men continued to cling to the boats that refused to take them, trying to climb aboard. As a result, a hand was cut off here, an arm severed at the elbow there, until the waters along the Ichi-no-tani shore turned crimson and the bodies floated side by side.
The Heike warrior Noritsune, the governor of Noto, had fought many battles and had never once been defeated, but what must have been his thoughts now? Mounted on his steed Usuguro, Gray Black, he fled westward. At the Akashi shore in Harima he boarded a boat and made his way across the straits to Yashima in Sanuki.
The Death of Tadanori (9:14)
Taira no Tadanori, the governor of Satsuma, served as commanding general of the western flank at the battle of Ichi-no-tani. Dressed in a battle robe of dark blue brocade and armor laced with black silk, he rode a sturdy black horse fitted with a lacquer saddle flecked with gold. Surrounded by some hundred horsemen under his command, he was retiring from the engagement in a calm and unhurried manner, halting his horse now and then to parry with one of the enemy.
Okabe no Rokuyata, a member of the Inomata group of Genji warriors, spotted Tadanori and galloped after him in pursuit, urging his horse forward with spurs and whip and shouting, “Who goes there? Declare your name!”
“I’m a friend!” replied Tadanori, but as he turned to speak, he revealed enough of his face to make it apparent that his teeth were blackened.
“Ha!” thought Rokuyata. “No one on our side looks like that! This must be one of the Taira lords.” Overtaking Tadanori, he began to grapple with him. On seeing this, the hundred horsemen under Tadanori, fighting men recruited from other provinces, fled as fast as they could, not one of them coming to his aid.
“Wretch!” exclaimed Tadanori. “You should have believed me when I said I was a friend!” Brought up in Kumano, a powerful man trained to act with lightning speed, Tadanori drew his sword and struck three blows at Rokuyata, two while the latter was still seated in the saddle and a third after he had unhorsed him. The first two glanced off Rokuyata’s armor and did no harm. The third pierced his face, though not with sufficient force to kill him.
Tadanori pinned his attacker to the ground and was about to cut off his head when Rokuyata’s page, rushing up from behind, drew his long sword and with one blow cut off Tadanori’s arm at the elbow.
Tadanori realized this was the end. “Give me time enough for ten invocations of the Buddha!” he said. Gripping Rokuyata, he flung him a bow’s length to the side. Then he faced west and, in a loud voice, recited these words: “His bright light illumines the worlds in the ten directions. Without fail He gathers up all living beings who recite His name!” He had scarcely concluded his recitation when Rokuyata approached from behind and struck off his head.
Rokuyata felt that the man had died like a true commanding general, but he still did not know his name. He found a slip of paper fastened to Tadanori’s quiver, however, on which was written a poem entitled “On a Journey, Lodging Beneath the Blossoms.” It read:
Evening drawing on, I’ll take lodging in the shade of this tree, and make its blossoms my host for the night.
The poem was signed “Tadanori.”
Having thus learned who his opponent was, Rokuyata impaled the head on the tip of his long sword and, lifting it high up, declared in a loud voice, “You have heard much these days of this Taira lord, the governor of Satsuma—I, Okabe no Rokuyata Tadazumi, have killed him!”
When they heard Tadanori’s name, the Taira and Genji warriors alike exclaimed, “What a pity! A man skilled both in arms and the practice of poetry, a true commanding general!” And there were none who did not wet their sleeve with tears.
The Capture of Shigehira (9:15)
Middle Captain Shigehira was second in command at the Heike encampment at Ikuta-no-mori, but all the men under his command had fled, leaving only Shigehira and one of his retainers.
On that day Shigehira was dressed in a battle robe of dark blue with a pattern of flocks of plovers embroidered in yellow. He wore armor with purple-shaded lacing and rode his famous horse Dōji Kage, Boy Fawn. The retainer with him was his foster brother Gotōbyōe Morinaga, who wore a battle robe of tie-dyed silk and crimson-laced armor and rode one of Shigehira’s prize steeds, a cream-color horse called Yomenashi, No-Night-Eyes.3
As they were making their way toward the shore, the Genji warriors Kajiwara Kagesue and Shō no Takaie, spotting Shigehira as one of the enemy commanders, flailed their whips and spurred their horses forward in swift pursuit. Several escape boats were drawn up on the beach, but the enemy riders pressed forward so rapidly from behind that Shigehira and his retainer had no time to embark. Instead, they raced over the Minato and Karumo rivers, galloped onward with Hasu Pond on their right and Koma Woods on their left, rode past Itayado and Suma, and fled off toward the west.
Shigehira and Morinaga were mounted on superlative horses, and their pursuers, whose horses were by now exhausted from the strained pace, had little hope of overtaking them. As the distance between the two parties grew greater, Kajiwara, rising up in his stirrups, drew back his bow and let fly an arrow on the chance that he might manage a hit. The arrow buried itself in the haunch of Shigehira’s horse.
As the horse faltered, Morinaga, fearful that he would be ordered to change mounts with his master, whipped up his horse and fled from the scene.
Looking after him, Shigehira called out, “Morinaga, what are you doing? After all those vows you made in past days, are you going to desert me?”
But Morinaga, pretending not to hear, merely ripped the red Heike badge from his armor and flung it aside, galloping away as fast as he could.
The Genji riders pressing closer, his horse weakened, and Shigehira rode into the sea, but by chance the water was so shallow at that spot that he realized it would be impossible to drown himself. Dismounting, he cut the straps of his armor, undid his shoulder cord and, slipping out of his helmet and other fittings, prepared to cut open his stomach.
Shō no Takaie, who was riding ahead of Kajiwara, spurred his mount forward with whip and stirrups and, leaping from the horse’s back with all possible speed, shouted, “Don’t try anything like that! From now on I’ll be right beside you wherever you go!” Then he hoisted Shigehira onto his own horse and tied him tightly to the pommel of the saddle, while he himself mounted another horse and led Shigehira off in the direction of the Genji encampment.
Meanwhile, Morinaga, mounted on a superb horse noted for its stamina, was able to make a rapid getaway. Later, he took refuge with a Buddhist priest of Kumano known as the Hokkyō (Dharma Bridge) of Onaka. But after the priest’s death, his widow, a nun, journeyed to the capital in connection with a lawsuit, and at that time Morinaga accompanied her. Because he was Shigehira’s foster brother, people of both high and low station in the capital recognized him. “How shameless, that Morinaga!” they said, wagging their fingers in reproval. “After all the kindness
he received, to refuse to die with his lord! And now, to add to the outrage, he comes here in the company of a nun!”
Even Morinaga, they say, could not help feeling a sense of shame, and he kept his face hidden behind a fan.
The Death of Atsumori (9:16)
The Heike had lost the battle. “Those Taira lords will be heading for the shore in hopes of making their getaway by boat!” thought Kumagae Naozane to himself. “Fine! I’ll go look for one of their generals to grapple with!” and he turned his horse in the direction of the beach.
As he did so, he spotted a lone warrior riding into the sea, making for the boats in the offing. He was wearing a battle robe of finely woven silk embroidered in a crane design, armor of light green lacing, and a horned helmet. He carried a sword with gilt fittings and a quiver whose arrows were fledged with black and white eagle feathers and held a rattan-wound bow in his hand. He was seated in a gold-rimmed saddle, astride a gray horse with white markings.
The lone warrior’s horse had swum out about two hundred feet from the shore when Kumagae, waving with his fan, called out, “Ho there, General! I see you. Don’t shame yourself by showing your back to an enemy. Come back!”
The rider, acknowledging the call, turned toward the beach. As he was about to ride up out of the waves, Kumagae drew alongside and grappled with him, dragging him from his horse. Pinning him down so as to cut off his head, Kumagae pushed aside his helmet. The face he saw was that of a young man of sixteen or seventeen, lightly powdered and with blackened teeth.
Gazing at the boy’s handsome face, Kumagae realized that he was just the age of his own son Kojirō, and he could not bring himself to use his sword. “Who are you? Tell me your name and I’ll let you go!” he said.
“Who are you?” asked the young man.
“No one of great importance—Kumagae Naozane of the province of Musashi.”
“Then there’s no need for me to tell you my name,” the young man replied. “I’m worthy enough to be your opponent. When you take my head, ask someone who I am—they will know all right!”
“Spoken like a true general!” thought Kumagae. “But simply killing this one man can’t change defeat into victory or victory into defeat. When my son Kojirō has even a slight injury, how much I worry about him! Just think how this boy’s father will grieve when he hears that he’s been killed! If only I could spare him.”
But as he glanced quickly behind him, he saw some fifty Genji horsemen under Toi and Kajiwara coming toward him. Fighting back the tears, he said, “I’d like to let you go, but our forces are everywhere in sight—you could never get away. Rather than fall into someone else’s hands, it’s better that I kill you. I’ll see that prayers are said for your salvation in the life to come.”
“Just take my head and be quick about it!” the boy said.
Kumagae was so overcome with pity that he did not know where to strike. His eyes seemed to dim, his wits to desert him, and for a moment he hardly knew where he was. But then he realized that, for all his tears, no choice was left him, and he struck off the boy’s head.
“We men who bear arms—how wretched is our lot!” he said. “If I had not been born of a warrior family, would I ever have faced a task like this? What a terrible thing I have done!” Again and again, he repeated the words as he raised his sleeve to brush the tears from his face.
After some time, aware that he must get on with the business, he removed the boy’s armor and battle robe and wrapped the head in them. As he was doing so, he noticed a brocade bag with a flute in it that had been fastened to the boy’s waist. “Ah, how pitiful!” he said. “Those people I heard at dawn this morning playing music in the enemy stronghold—he must have been one of them! Among all the ten thousand troops from the eastern provinces fighting on our side, is there anyone who carries a flute with him into battle? These highborn people—how gentle and refined they are!”
Later, when Kumagae’s battle trophies were presented to Yoshitsune for inspection, there were none among the company who did not weep at the sight.
It was subsequently learned that the young man slain by Kumagae was Atsumori, the seventeen-year-old son of the master of the Palace Repair Office, Taira no Tsunemori. From that time onward, Kumagae’s desire to become a Buddhist monk grew even stronger. The flute in question had been presented by Retired Emperor Toba to Atsumori’s grandfather, Tadamori, who was a skilled player. From him it had been passed down to the son, Tsunemori, and in turn had been given to Atsumori because of his marked aptitude for the instrument. It was known by the name Saeda, Little Branch.
It is moving to think that for all their exaggerated phrases and flowery embellishments, even music and the arts can in the end lead a man to praise the Buddha way.
After a resounding defeat, the Taira forces scatter in their attempt to flee by sea.
1. An allusion to a poem by Ariwara no Narihira in The Tales of Ise, sec. 87.
2. All the natural images mentioned are associated in Japanese poetry with early spring.
3. A horse with a white node, or “night eye,” behind its front knee was believed to be able to run fast at night. Presumably, this horse could run even faster.
HŌNEN: Buddhist priest and one of the founders of Pure Land Buddhism in Japan.
KOREMORI (Taira): son and heir of Shigemori; seeks salvation.
SHIGEHIRA (Taira): son of Kiyomori; accused of the crime of burning Nara.
TAKIGUCHI: son of a courtier; later becomes a priest at Mount Kōya.
YOKOBUE: woman of lesser birth.
In the aftermath of the battle of Ichi-no-tani, the captured commander, Shigehira, and the heads of the slain Heike are paraded in the capital. The retired emperor offers to spare Shigehira’s life in exchange for the imperial treasures held by the Heike. The request is denied, and rumors persist that Shigehira will be punished for his role in burning Nara.
Regarding the Precepts (10:5)
When Middle Captain Shigehira heard the Heike response to his request, he replied, “It was only to be expected. The people of my clan must think very badly of me!” He regretted ever having made such a request, useless as regrets now were. The Heike were hardly likely to return the three imperial regalia, the sacred treasures of the nation, just to save the life of one man, Shigehira. He thus had expected an answer like this all along, although before it was delivered, he had been in a mood of anxious suspense. Now that the reply had arrived and it was certain that he would be sent to the east, he became deeply despondent, convinced that all avenues of escape had finally been cut off. The thought of parting from the capital this time was more painful than ever.
He sent for Toi no Sanehira and told him, “I am considering becoming a monk. Would that be possible?”
Sanehira reported this to Yoshitsune, who passed on the request to Retired Emperor GoShirakawa. “After he has been handed over to Yoritomo, perhaps something can be arranged,” replied the retired emperor. “But it cannot be permitted at the present time.”
“In that case,” said Shigehira when he received word of this, “I would like to meet once more with a holy man who has been my teacher for many years so that I may discuss with him the matter of my life hereafter. Would that be possible?”
“Who is this holy man?” asked Sanehira.
“He is known as Priest Hōnen of Kurodani.”
“I see no objection,” said Sanehira, and gave his consent.
Overjoyed at this, Shigehira asked the holy man to visit him. Speaking through his tears, he said, “I was destined to meet with you once more—that must have been why I was taken prisoner alive! What should I do about my life in the world to come? In the past, when I was a person of some consequence, I was immersed in government affairs, tangled in official duties, my mind too often prone to pride and arrogance, so I had no time to think what fate might await me in a future life. And how much worse things have been since the fortunes of our clan ran out and we entered this era of confusion! Fighting battles here, wrang
ling and contending there, one finds one’s mind wholly taken up with evil thoughts of how to destroy others and save one’s own skin, making it impossible for goodness of heart to come forth.
“In particular, regarding the burning of Nara, I had orders from the sovereign, orders from the military, duties to the ruler, and obligations to society that I could hardly avoid. But when we went there to stop the nefarious actions of the monks, events took a totally unexpected turn that ended in the destruction of the temples. There was nothing we could do about it, and yet, since I was commander in chief at the time, I suppose it must be viewed as the evil deed of one man alone, for as the saying goes, responsibility rests with the one on top. And I have come to feel that all the many humiliations I have suffered recently, often of a nature hardly apparent to others, are nothing other than retributions for that deed.
“Now I would like to shave my head, begin observing the religious precepts, and devote myself entirely to the practice of the Buddhist way. But as you see, I am a prisoner and my mind is no longer mine to command freely. I cannot tell what fate awaits me from one day to the next. Is there some religious practice that might have the power to cancel out even one of my sinful actions?—to my great regret, I hardly know. For as I look back over my life up to now, I see that my transgressions pile up higher than Mount Sumeru and that my good deeds count for less than a handful of dust. Should the end come while I am in this hopeless state, my fate would doubtless be rebirth in one of the Three Evil Paths of hell dwellers, hungry spirits, and beasts. I therefore entreat you, holy man that you are, to show pity and compassion, and if there is some way by which an evil person such as I can find salvation, teach me what it is!”
The Tales of the Heike Page 11
