Thank you for downloading this podcast. My name is Sean Bermingham. Welcome to The First Shogun.
In the hills overlooking the Japanese city of Kyoto, not far from the temple of Chorakuji, is an ancient site named the shogun-zuka, or Mound of the General. It marks the site where, according to legend, the eighth century Emperor Kammu came to view the site of a new capital that he planned to build.
For many years, the imperial family had ruled from the city of Nara to the south. But the monks of Nara’s temple had recently begun interfering in imperial affairs.
The answer was simple: the Emperor would move his capital, But unlike at Nara, he would build this one laid out on a grid plan modelled on the Chinese city of Chang’an – modern-day Xi’an. At the centre would be a north-south avenue connecting the great Rashomon gate in the south with the imperial Palace in the north. The city would lie in a fertile valley, fed by several rivers, and protected on three sides by mountain ranges. He would name the city Heian-kyo – capital of tranquility and peace.
But the canny Emperor did not leave to chance the fate of his new city. To protect it, he had a giant statue carved of a general, or shogun, more than two and a half meters tall, dressed in armor and holding a sword and bow and arrows, to serve as a guardian for the new city. He buried the general in a mound facing the site where he would build the new Imperial Palace.
If ever the Imperial capital was threatened, the people would know as they would hear the giant shogun rumbling in his grave.
For centuries after the founding of the city, there was peace in the realm. Among the court nobility, it was a time of refined tea ceremonies, cherry blossom viewing, and poetry – a period during which a lady-in-waiting at the imperial court named Murasaki Shikibu wrote what is regarded as the world’s first novel, The Tale of Genji. Her main character – Hikaru Genji – was fictional, but the family to which he belongs – the Genji, or Minamoto clan - was real. And it was largely to the Genji that the people of the capital owed their peaceful existence, for it was the Genji samurai who maintained order in the provinces and repelled any threat to the nation’s stability.
And so the years became decades became centuries, and the people of Heian could not imagine their lives ever changing.
But then, in the year 1156, alarm began to spread among the city’s inhabitants. There were rumours that the young reigning Emperor was not well, and there was discord among the imperial family. A comet had been seen in the sky. And then most ominous of all, the people of Heian began to hear strange sounds in the hills to the east of the city.
It was, all agreed, a disturbing sign – for the first time in the capital’s history, the Shogun’s Mound was rumbling. For the period of peace in Heian was about to be shattered, and the fate of Genji - the nations’ most illustrious samurai clan - was about to be changed forever
Today when we think of the word Shogun, we think of a powerful warlord ruling over Japan, like the character of Toranaga depicted in James Clavell’s novel – but the term shogun actually just means army commander and was first used in early days of imperial Japan. In the time of Emperor Kammu, who founded the city that would become modern-day Kyoto, the title was awarded to generals who were sent to fight the tribes of northern Japan. And so the title shogun is actually short for sei-i taishōgun which literally means 'Commander-in-Chief of the Expeditionary Force Against the Barbarians'
But first person to take the title Shogun as we think of it now, as a military ruler, was Minamoto no Yoritomo – or Yoritomo of the Genji clan. And in 1156 – the year that would bring an end to the capital’s centuries of calm - he was just 9 years old.
Yoritomo was not actually born in Heian but is believed to have been born to the east in Aichi – modern Nagoya – where his mother, the Lady Yura, was a daughter of the High Priest at Atsuta shrine. Through Yura’s father, Yoritomo was connected to the noble Fujiwara family who had great influence over the Emperor.
Yoritomo’s father, Yoshitomo, on the other hand, was a samurai, and the heir of the Seiwa Genji line. As a descendant of the most illustrious branch of the Genji clan, Yoritomo could trace his lineage all the way back to the 9th century Emperor Seiwa, the descendant of the Emperor Kanmu, founder of the capital.
Little is known of Yoritomo’s early life, but as an infant he must have grown up surrounded by legacies of his famous ancestors. His grandfather, the head of the Genji clan, possessed eight sets of ancestral armor. But among the Genji heirlooms, pride of place would have been a sword, more than two feet seven inches long. It was called Higekiri, or Beard-cutter, but as he listened to the family legends, the young Yoritomo would have learned how this precious Genji sword came to be known by another name:
… the Demon-cutter…
Long ago, the Emperor Seiwa had many sons, and of these princes the sixth, named Sadazumi, had a grandson named Mitsunaga who was the first to take the name of Genji.
Entrusted with the protection of the empire, Mitsunaga decided he must possess the greatest sword in the realm. To this end, he procured much iron and had many smiths summoned. But when they forged the swords, there were none that he found to his liking.
Eventually an ironsmith arrived who had studied far away in China. Although he offered everything he had, it was still not up to Mitsunaga’s expectations.
So the ironsmith took himself to a shrine and prayed to the god Hachiman:
Grant that I may make a great sword and I will become a vessel of thy disposal.
After seven days, a divine reply was received:
“Forge your iron for sixty days,” the voice came, “after which you will create two swords of the finest quality.”
Rejoicing at this dream, the ironsmith worked for sixty days and at length produced two swords, the finest that anyone had ever seen.
Mitsunaka was greatly pleased and had the swords tried out on two criminals. One of the swords was so sharp it not only beheaded the man, it also finely sliced through his beard in a single stroke. For that reason, it became known as Higekiri – or ‘beard-cutter’.
With these blades, Mitsunaka ruled as the realm’s protector and even the trees and plants inclined before him. And so in due time he was succeeded by his eldest son Minamoto no Yorimitsu, who in turn became the greatest samurai in the land.
Now Yorimitsu had four famous retainers, known as the Four Heavenly Kings. And of these the most courageous was Tsuna, or Yoshida Genji.
Now it happened that one night when Yorimitsu and his retainers were gathering for dinner, they heard reports that a strange apparition had been seen at the Rashomon gate and that several people had recently gone missing.
Immediately, Yorimitsu’s bravest swordsman Tsuna offered to investigate, and so Yorimitsu lent him his horse – and for protection, his great sword Higekiri.
It was a cold and moonless night, and when Tsuna arrived at the Rashomon gate, which guards the southern entrance to the capital, there was no-one to be seen. His horse struggled against the wind, and so he dismounted and approached the gate on foot, his hand by the hilt of his sword…
Suddenly Tsuna felt an enormous hand grab the hair at the back of his head and he felt himself being lifted by an unstoppable power. As the ground fell away he instinctively slashed upward with his sword against the unseen enemy, and as he felt Higekiri sliced through flesh and sinew, a terrifying cry erupted above him. Released from the demon’s grasp, Tsuna plunged headlong, fortunately landing on the roof of the shrine of Kitano. As he looked up he could see the demon, with its arm cut off, flying away to the northwest.
Miraculously unharmed, Tsuna leapt down from the shrine and pulled off the demon’s claw that was still gripping his hair, finding that it was covered in hideous white hairs that cut like wire.
When he brought it and showed it to his companions, they were astonished. He asked what he should do with the demon’s arm. Yorimitsu advised Tsuna to seclude himself in his house for seven days, keeping the claw carefully shut up and guarded, while he should occupy himself reading holy texts.
Tsuna did so, and for five days all was quiet. At dusk on the sixth day, he heard footsteps approaching on the veranda outside.
He heard a knock on the door and asked who was there.
“Tsuna, it is I, your aunt and foster mother. I have not seen you for such a long time.”
“I am so glad you have come,” replied Tsuna, “but I am undergoing religious seclusion, and I must not see anyone until the day after tomorrow.”
At this he could hear the woman burst into tears,
“Is it for this that I took you in as soon as you were born, and brought you up, ensuring that no bitter wind ever blew upon you. Of late many times I have had bad dreams about you, fearing that some evil might have befallen you.”
Tsuna, unable to withstand her pleas, opened the gate and let her in . The woman was overjoyed and asked about Tsuna’s wellbeing, curious why he was spending these days in seclusion.
After he had told her his story, she reassured him, saying he was right to take such precautions.
“But what kind of thing is a demon’s hand?” she said. “I should very much like to see it.”
“I would willingly show it to you, but I must keep it shut away until the seventh day is over.”
Seeing the woman’s displeasure, Tsuna relented and brought out the box. As he opened it, the woman leaned forward eagerly,
“So that is what a demon’s claw is like…” and then she suddenly stood up to a great height, transforming into a horrible demon, “That is MY hand, and I will take it!”
The demon grabbed the claw from the box and turned on Tsuna. At the same time, Tsuna reached for Higekiri and swung the sword, but he felt it slice through thin air. As he looked up he could see that the demon had burst through the roof and was flying up into the sky, flashing fire as she went.
Although Tsuna had lost the demon’s hand, he had at least lived to tell the tale. And from that time on, the sword Higekiri came to be known by its other name: the Demon-cutter.
Surrounded by heirlooms such as Higekiri and stories of Genji heroism, the young Yoritomo must have been filled with awe, as his family history was like a medieval Japanese version of the Lord of the Rings. The tale of the demon’s claw was just one of many legends – his ancestor Yorimitsu was also renowned for dispatching one of the most famous demons in Japanese folklore – the Drunken Ogre known as shuten-doji - as well as defending the capital from a giant spider-like demon known as tsuchigumo.
But despite such formidable ancestry, Yoritomo must also have been aware that in the present time all was not well with the Minamoto clan.
In recent years he would have noticed his father becoming increasingly frustrated as he was denied higher positions at the court, often at the expense of members of the Heike clan.
Even worse, there was clearly a growing dislike and distrust between his father and his uncle, as well as with his grandfather Tameyoshi, the head of the Genji clan, who threatened to disown Yoshitomo from the family inheritance.
At the same time, a similar crisis was affecting the imperial family. Just as with the Genji, the dispute was between brothers and their father – and the resulting crisis was a very tangled Game of Thrones.
On August 22, 1155, the reigning Emperor Konoe died at the age of just 17, leaving no heir. The expected successor was the son of the Retired Emperor Sutoku, who had earlier abdicated in favor of his younger brother.
Unfortunately for Sutoku, the previous Emperor, his father, the much-loved cloistered Emperor Toba, was still alive and still pulling the strings – even though he had taken vows as a monk and retired to a monastery.
Toba was suspicious of Sutoku – and so he advised the court to choose another of his sons to succeed to the throne.
And so it was that Toba’s fourth son was enthroned as the new Emperor of Japan, and he was known as Go-Shirakawa. In his late-20s, the new ruler is an extremely smart and manipulative character who will be one of the most important people in our story.
So to recap in the summer of 1155, there were in fact three Emperors living in capital.
The new Emperor, Go-Shirakawa, his brother the very angry retired Emperor Sutoku, and their father, the ageing monk-Emperor Toba.
Now if you’re not confused by this stage, you probably should be – because even at the time this was an unusual situation and the people of the capital must have been scratching their heads wondering what on earth was going on.
This delicate situation with three Emperors lasted for a few months until the old emperor Toba finally passed away, causing great sorrow among his people.
Within days of Toba’s passing, Sutoku began to plan his revenge, quickly moving to build a base of support on the east side of the Kamo river.
But he realized that to take arms against a reigning emperor he will need the most powerful samurai clan on his side.
And so he first summoned Tadamasa, a lord of the Heike clan – and then he called on Tameyoshi, the head of the renowned Genji clan. Reluctantly the ageing Tameyoshi agreed to support him, and headed to Sutoku’s palace with his sons – that is, all of sons except one, his eldest Yoshitomo, who he has not spoken to for months…
On the night that Sutoku was gathering his army, on the other side of the river to the west, Yoshitomo was preparing for an audience with the new Emperor.
So let us imagine the scene. Yoshitomo has been summoned to His Majesty’s presence at the great reception hall at Tosanjo Palace. As he enters he sees lines of samurai at the back of the hall, many are warriors of the Heike clan – and then he sees the Heike leader, Taira no Kiyomori, the man who has climbed the courtly ranks to such an extent he is as much a nobleman as a samurai.
At the front sit the court nobles, members of the Fujiwara clan – and there before them all, on a raised dais is the emperor himself, the newly enthroned Go-Shirakawa. Beside him sits his chief advisor, the monk Shinzei, a formidable character as it is through him that the emperor will convey his will. Yoshitomo knows that the emperor may be ruler, but it is Shinzei who really holds the cards.
“Ah, Lord Yoshitomo,” announces Shinzei, “tell us of what you have learned.”
Yoshitomo bows to the court: “I understand from my sources that the retired Emperor Sutoku has called upon the monks of Nara and they have sent a thousand horse, and that all of them are heavily armed and equipped with iron-clan shields. Tomorrow, I am told, they will reach Sutoku’s residence.”
His announcement causes a ripple of concern among the gathered nobles, although the samurai remain silent,
“Is that so…. And your father Tameyoshi is among Sutoku’s allies, is he not?” Shinzei asks
“Yes, sadly, my father chose to accept the retired Emperor’s request, together with my brothers. As, I believe, did Taira no Tadamasa of the Heike clan”. With that Yoshitomo shoots a glance at the Heike leader Kiyomori, then turns back to address Shinzei.
“It is true that my brothers have sided with Sutoku,” Yoshitomo says. “And among those is my brother Tametomo, a brave and powerful warrior, skilled in arms. What makes him a born warrior is that his left, bow arm is four inches longer than his right. His bow is therefore unusually long, hence his arrows as well. He is by far the greatest archer in the land, and his….
“Your brother is a thug and a renegade.”
Yoshitomo looks back to see who has dared to insult his family and encounters the Heike Lord Kiyomori’s icy glare.
Yoshitomo strides up to him
“My brother is more than a match for a hundred men!”
“Mm….” Kiyomori strokes his short beard and gives a skeptical smile. “I think one of my Heike archers will deal with Tametomo. But what of you, Yoshitomo, what if you have to face your father? Where will your loyalty truly lie?
Yoshitomo stares into kiyomori’s eyes
“I’ll deal with my father, Kiyomori. Will you deal with your uncle?”
There is silence as the two clan leaders glare at each other. Kiyomori is no longer smiling.
“Tadamasa is no longer a Heike,” he says. “Not after he betrayed his Emperor – and his clan.”
For a moment, even the Emperor himself looks up as the two leaders – Heike and Genji – stand facing each other, their hands hovering by their swords.
“Enough,” says Shinzei, “Both Tadamasa and Tameyoshi betrayed the Emperor and both will be dealt with. But first we need victory – for which we need both Heike and Genji to work together.”
“Yoshitomo you will lead us to victory, crush the traitors and you’ll be rewarded access to the palace. That is what you desire, is it not?
Still smarting from Kiyomori’s insult, Yoshitomo approaches Shinzei on the raised platform. Shinzei recoils in horror as Yoshitomo, a mere samurai, dares to step onto the dais where the Emperor sits.
“How dare you approach, Yoshitomo, you are out of order!
Yoshitomo cannot contain his frustration. “What good will access to the palace do if I lose my life on the battlefield? I should have had access already! When will the Genji benefit from the favor that you shower upon the Heike?
The tension finally breaks when they hear the emperor chuckle to himself, amused at the sight of a mere samurai threatening the most powerful noble in the court.
Shinzei forces a smile: “Do not worry Yoshitomo, your Genji will get its just reward – after the battle. But first you must win it. So what would recommend?”
“There are many ways to pursue a conflict,” Yoshitomo says. “But to achieve victory, no tactic can compare with a night attack. I recommend that I take command of the attack force, supported by Lord Taira no Kiyomori, set out with it immediately and we will decide this conflict before the enemy ever arrives.”
“The course of action is clear.” Shinzei announces. “As the classics say, to move first is to control the foe; to move after him is to fall under his control.
Shinzei looks to the Heike clansmen,
“Lord Kiyomori?”
Kiyomori stands and clutches his sword. “The Heike are ready.”
Shinzei looks to the Emperor who gives a barely perceptible nod of assent
“Proceed with your plan, Yoshitomo. You will launch your attack before dawn, at the Hour of the Tiger.”
Yoshitomo steps back from dais and both he and Kiyomori exchange a grudging nod of acknowledgment as they both leave to prepare their troops.
As they leave, Shinzei casts a furtive glance at the Emperor, whose expression remains unreadable.
Outside, as rumors spread and as the Hour of the Tiger - 4am – approaches, there is panic in the streets as people clamor to escape the coming war
At the Tosanjo palace gate, the 9-year-old Yoritomo watches with pride as his father, with the sword Higekiri at his side, leads out the Genji riders
Alongside Lord Kiyomori leads the Heike - the first and only time the two leaders would ride together into battle – Genji and Heike side-by-side
Behind them lines of samurai begin streaming east, to where Sutoku’s army lies in wait
The fuse has been lit.
And the powder keg is about to explode.