Robert Van Bergen

An Independent Tennô

As you have read before, Yoritomo's father-in-law was named Hojo, which means either a Buddhist priest or a convent, or one who sets free a live animal that has been caught. For you must know that the Buddhists believe that the souls of men go after death into the bodies of animals. That is why faithful believers in Buddha will not eat the flesh of animals. They say, "How does one know that the soul of his father or grandfather may not have been in the body of the ox that is killed?"

The Hojo family ruled over Japan one hundred and fourteen years, always in the name of some shadow regent. But although they had no right to rule the country, the Hojo were good and just to the people, and helped the progress of arts and industries, so that Japan grew to be a rich country.

It was during the Hojo period (1199-1333) that the famous Japanese swords were first made. Before this the two-edged blade had been used, which was but a clumsy weapon to strike with; but the swords made during the Hojo period would cut through a dollar without leaving a flaw. In 1877 there was a dangerous, rebellion in Japan. The government troops were armed with modern rifles and balls, and many of the rebels had only their swords. But they killed so many of the regular troops with these dangerous weapons that the government was compelled to form a troop of expert swordsmen to cope with them.

Forging a sword

The Hojo also kept up the army. The soldiers of Japan had now become a distinct caste, that is, only certain families could serve in war, and their sons were also soldiers. They were called samurai (sah-moo-ri), and had the right to wear two swords. The long two-handled one was used in war. The other, short as a dagger, was for nothing else than to commit suicide. At first it was used only after a battle, when a wounded soldier, preferring death to falling into the hands of the enemy, stabbed himself with the short sword. But soon it became a privilege of the samurai class to commit suicide when they had done anything for which the common people would have been condemned to death. The sons of samurai were taught in early youth how to behave themselves and what to do if ever the time should come when they would have to commit hara-kiri (hah-rah'-kee-ree—hara  is the Japanese word for stomach, and kiri  means to cut). By this kind of education, they grew familiar with the idea of dying at any time. Soon it became such a custom, that when a clan was insulted, and for some reason could not take revenge, the principal samurai would commit hara-kiri in a dignified manner, and so wipe out the stain upon the crest of the clan.

The Hojo were proud of their country, and loved it, as every Japanese does. They ruled, honestly thinking that it was best for Japan that they should do so. When the Chinese emperor sent two men to demand that Japan should pay tribute, thereby confessing that the emperor of China was really their master, the reigning Hojo ordered the messengers' heads to be cut off, as an answer to the insolent demand. The Chinese emperor was so angry at this that he gathered a great army and fleet to take Japan, but he was badly defeated. So the Hojo do not deserve the dislike with which they are regarded by the people, who call a bug that destroys the young rice by the name of Hojo bug.

But now I must tell you how the Hojo rule came to an end through the efforts of an emperor who would not be a mere puppet. The poor babies or boys who had held the title of Tennô had been much neglected, and when one of them died, the court had not sufficient money for funeral ceremonies, so that he had to be buried by charity. At last the Hojo, in their turn, became puppets, and Japan was ruled by some ex-regent, who had retired to a cloister; and for some time the monks were the ruling power. But although they held an unlawful authority, they were inclined to restore the government to the emperor.

The Chinese invasion

In the early part of the fourteenth century, the Tennô died, and the Hojo placed upon the throne a prince, named Godaigo (goh-di-goh), from whom they expected no trouble. He seemed to care for nothing except pleasure, and that was the sort of man they wanted. But this prince had only pretended to be of such disposition, for he was really a man of courage and ability. When the government at Kamakura discovered this, they decided that he must abdicate, and they sent an army to the capital. The emperor not having enough troops to defend Kyoto, withdrew with his band to a Buddhist cloister not far from Nara, which had been strongly fortified. But the regent was determined to maintain his power. His army set out in pursuit, carried the cloister by assault, and captured the emperor. He was sent into exile, and the heads of his advisers were cut off, and carried on poles fastened to his sedan chair.

But this emperor was a man of strong will, and, while in exile, he sent letters to one of his sons, who was a Buddhist priest, and to one of his captains, who had escaped with a small body of faithful troops. After everything was prepared, the emperor left the island to which he had been banished, escaping in a fishing boat, and hiding himself under a heap of mussels. He was missed, and the boat was pursued and overtaken; but the mussel heap was not searched, and the emperor reached the island of Hondo, where he was joined by a small army. With this he marched at once upon Kyoto, and as the Hojo commander was unprepared, the capital was captured.

Emperor Godalgo

The Hojo now sent more troops against him, but their leaders, who were members of the old Minamoto clan, went over to the emperor, and many who had been kept away, through fear of the power of the Hojo, now joined the imperial standard. One of the Minamoto leaders, in command of the emperor's army, advanced upon Kamakura. The Hojo made a desperate defense. The outer walls were carried by assault, but every ward had been made into a fortress, and the place was taken only after a furious hand-to-hand fight. When the Hojo clan were utterly defeated, their leaders took their own lives by the dreadful hara-kiri, and once more it seemed as though the Tennô would regain his power.

But it was not to be. The two Minamoto leaders who had betrayed the Hojo regent, began to quarrel, and one of them denounced his former comrade to the emperor, accusing the man who had taken Kamakura of designs against the Tennô. But this general succeeded in proving his innocence, whereupon the emperor commissioned him to punish his traducer. A battle was fought between the two former comrades in arms, in which the emperor's troops were defeated, and the poor Heaven Child was again compelled to flee from the capital. Once more he took refuge in the convent where he had been captured by the Hojo troops.

And now the victorious leader, whose family name was Ashikaga (ash-ee-kah-gah), took the title and office of regent. He did not pursue the emperor, for the generals who had remained loyal gave him enough to do. First the regent pursued his former friend, and attacked him with a very strong force northwest of Kyoto, and he not only defeated his troops, but killed their leader. Then Ashikaga attacked the capital, which was taken and retaken three times. Then the last faithful band retired upon Hiogo, where they were finally routed and their leader committed the inevitable hara-kiri. The regent now appointed a puppet emperor in Kyoto, and left the other Tennô to rule, if he chose, over the monks in the convent. For time there were two Tennôs in Japan. But after a while the real emperor resigned in favor of the puppet emperor at Kyoto, who had after all no more power than his rival.