The Battle of Uji Bridge

An imperial decree urges rebellion against the Heike clan. As the Genji heir Yoritomo considers his response, a veteran Genji living in the capital - Minamoto no Yorimasa - takes matters into his own hands, and leads the first serious challenge to Lord Kiyomori's authority. The uprising will lead to the first pivotal moment of the Gempei War - the legendary Battle of Uji Bridge.

Key figures in this episode:

Yoritomo - Genji exile, the future First Shogun
Yorimasa - a veteran Genji warrior
Lord Kiyomori - Head of the Heike clan
Munemori - Kiyomori's heir and eldest surviving son
Go-Shirakawa - the Retired Emperor
Mochihito - the Retired Emperor's second son
Kio - an imperial guard 
Jomyo Meishu, Ichirai - warrior monks

Written and presented by Sean Bermingham. 
Music and sound effects from Pond 5: www.pond5.com

The First Shogun podcast website: https://firstshogun.buzzsprout.com

Transcript

It is the year 1180, and Taira no Kiyomori – the head of the Heike clan – is the most powerful man in Japan. 

The first samurai ever to reach the rank of Chancellor, he has hundreds of secret police under his control in the capital city of Heian-kyo, he has either killed, imprisoned or exiled his leading opponents – and he has now installed his grandson as the newly enthroned Emperor Antoku.

There are just a few people who could challenge Kiyomori. One of those is the retired Emperor Go-Shirawara, but Kiyomori has placed him under armed guard. 

Meanwhile, more than 200 miles to the east, Minamoto no Yoritomo, the heir to the Seiwa-Genji samurai clan who is now in his early 30s, is living in exile in the remote province of Izu. 

It is there that he receives a letter from the capital. It is a call to arms signed by prince Mochito, a son of the Retired Emperor.

In his letter, the prince calls on all the remaining Genji to come together to bring down the usurper Kiyomori and overthrow the Heike clan.

The imperial decree is the first serious challenge to Kiyomori’s authority. And it will lead to the first pivotal moment in the Gempei war, one of the great clashes of medieval Japan – 

the battle of Uji Bridge.

So how was a call to arms against the Heike sent from the capital, and why was it signed by the retired emperor’s son? 

Well, the man behind this attempted uprising is not in fact the prince, but a veteran samurai who for several years now has been living as a recluse. Until now this man has largely been a background figure in our story, but he will provide a spark that ignites the conflict that will become known as the Gempei war.

The man’s name is Minamoto no Yorimasa, and in many ways, it would be easy to see him as kind of Obi-Wan Kenobi figure in our story. By 1180, he is already in his 70s – at that time, an impressive age to reach - and he is still renowned as an expert swordsman – one of the best in the land - and also for his skill as a poet. But he is a somewhat forlorn figure living on the outskirts of Heian society, filled with regrets for events of the past. 

Yorimasa is also one of the very few members of the Genji still living in the capital, a city now controlled by the Heike Clan. He was a fifth-generation descendant of Yorimitsu- the great Genji samurai who had defeated demons with his legendary sword Higekiri. 

As a young samurai Yorimasa had been a loyal supporter of Yoritomo’s father Yoshitomo, the Genji leader. But during the Heiji rebellion he faced a terrible choice – should he side with his clan leader Yoshitomo, or should he fulfil his duty to the emperor and in doing so support the Heike leader Kiyomori. He chose his imperial duty. 

After leading 300 men across the Kamo river, Yorimasa had turned and faced the depleted Genji forces. From the far bank of the river, he heard Yoshitomo shout at him, “Yorimasa, why do you side with the Heike? Your treachery dishonours our house!”

For 20 years now, Yorimasa has lived with those words burned into his memory. For he knows that it was his decision to turn against his family that led to the near destruction of the Genji.

So now he is one of the few Genji in the capital, tolerated by the Heike but never really trusted or accepted. He has served loyally as an imperial guard, but many times he has been passed over for promotion. As Kiyomori’s grip on power has grown tighter, his resentment increases, as too does the guilt over his betrayal of his clan. 

Is it too late, he wonders, to make amends for the terrible choice he made 20 years ago?

Although a somewhat sad figure now, Yorimasa once was one of the greatest and most feared samurai in the land, famed for his heroic deeds, many of which have passed into legend. 

And the most famous of all is Yorimasa’s encounter with a fearsome creature known as the Nue.

Many years ago, the senior nobles of the land were called together for a secret council at the imperial palace. The cause for the summons was an apparition that had been haunting the young Emperor Konoe. Night after night His Majesty had been assailed by a crushing fear. His suffering always came about at the hour of the ox – 2 a.m. – and coincided with the emergence of a black cloud that would rise, approach, and settle over His Majesty’s dwelling.

Great monks and mighty healers worked their most powerful and secret rites but to no effect. And so it was that the council decided to have a warrior mount guard, and among all the Genji and Heike warriors the man selected was the head of the Armory, the Genji warrior Yorimasa.

At first Yorimasa was skeptical. “Warriors serve the court by putting down rebellion or by destroying those who flout the imperial will. Never have I heard of an order to suppress a specter that no eye can see.” 

Nevertheless, it was an imperial command and Yorimasa intended to fulfill his duty, and he went immediately to the palace accompanied by a retainer Hayata. Yorimasa stationed himself on the emperor’s veranda, holding two well-sharpened arrows fletched with tail feathers of a pheasant - a gift passed down from his ancestor Yorimitsu. And there he waited, under a crescent moon.

As the hour of the ox approached, he noticed a black cloud rising from a wooded grove – it then settled over where the emperor lay. Yorimasa could make out inside the cloud a strange shape. He took out an arrow, fitted it quietly to the string, and secretly praying to the Great Bodhisattva Hachiman, he drew to the full, and let fly.

He had a hit; his arm felt it. “Got him!”

An object fell from the cloud with a shriek like the cry of a thrush. His retainer swiftly approached the spot where the thing had fallen and ran it through nine times with his sword. All the other attendants rushed up holding torches. And then they recoiled in horror: the thing that Yorimasa had killed had a monkey’s head, a badger’s body, a snake’s tail, and the limbs of a tiger.

Deeply grateful, the emperor awarded Yorimasa a sword named Lion King. Receiving the gift, Yorimasa dropped to his right knee, glanced sidelong at the moon, and said:

“Thanks to a fine parting shot, from the crescent moon’s drawn bow!”

“Ah, not only are you incomparable at arms, Yorimasa,” said the sovereign. “You are as a poet too. Outstanding!”

As for the creature, it was stuffed into a hollow log and sent down the river to the sea. 

One night in 1180, Prince Mochihito, the second son of the Retired Emperor, is intrigued to hear that he has a visitor – the veteran Genji samurai Minamoto no Yorimasa, the man who once shot down a Nue at his uncle’s palace. Let us imagine we can witness their conversation, for it was this meeting, more than eight centuries ago, that ignited the war that would change Japan forever…

The 70-year-old white-bearded Yorimasa sweeps into the audience room and sits before his imperial host. 

“Your highness,” he says, “You stand in the 48th generation from the great sun-Goddess. You should have been elevated to heir apparent and then reigned as Emperor, but here you are, in your thirtieth year and still only a prince. Does this not distress you?”

Yorimasa is notorious for his bluntness, but the prince is still taken aback. Before he can utter a word, Yorimasa continues:

“The way the world is now, everyone here in this capital feigns meek obedience to the Heike, but is there anyone here who doesn’t secretly yearn for their destruction?”

He casts an enquiring eye at the prince, who tries to maintain a neutral expression.

“It appears,” says Prince Mochihito, “that you, Yorimasa, perhaps have your own axe to grind with the Heike clan?”

“Mm,” Yorimasa straightens his back, and looks aside as if conjuring memories from the past. “You know, I gave up everything for the Heike - my family, my reputation, several of my men, to support Kiyomori during Heiji. 

On that day, at the riverbank, Yoshitomo told me that I dishonored my own house. Every day I hear him telling me that. Well, perhaps he was right. No…. I am sure he was right. Kiyomori is not Yoshitomo – he does not care about the honor of the samurai, or about good governance, or about protecting the realm. He cares only about his own position, and the positions of his sons.”

Yorimasa pauses, and Mochihito asks: 

“So, Lord Yorimasa, what has prompted this visit tonight?”

Yorimasa suddenly starts chuckling, but there is a bitterness in his laugh. 

“It’s about a horse! A horse!”

“A horse?” Mochihito is confused.

“Yes, let me tell you about a horse named Konoshita, a fine horse. It belonged to my eldest son, Nakatsuna. It is incomparable, easy to ride, swift, manageable – there is no horse like him. 

“Then word reached Lord Kiyomori’s son Munemori – his eldest, now that Shigemori is unfortunately dead – who sent my son a message: “I would gladly see for myself this famous steed of yours.”

Well, my son of course was suspicious and said the horse had been sent away for a while to gain its strength. But Munemori sent us note after note – sometimes seven or eight in a single day – demanding that he see the horse. So, in the end I advised my son there was no point holding out, we should send the horse to Rokuhara.

And so he did. But rather than show appreciation for our offer, Munemori took it upon himself to brand the horse with my son’s name – so he burned the name Nakatsuna into its skin – and then when any visitor would come by asking to see the famous horse, he would say:

“Sure, mount the nag Nakatsuna. Let’s give him a taste of my whip!”

‘Do you see?” Yorimasa is now glaring at the prince, with barely disguised anger. “That is how the Heike treat a prized horse, and that is how they will treat the people of this country, as something they whip as they see fit. Now Kiyomori is a cold man, there’s no doubt about it – I know from my experience over these years – but he is a samurai at heart. But his son Munemori is worse, much worse. And with Shigemori gone, if Munemori succeeds, this country will have a very bleak future.”

Mochihito glances at his aides, then says “So, Yorimasa, what do you suggest? The Genji are depleted – your own exploits are legendary, of course, but there are so few of your family here now, and you yourself are ….”

“Yes, I am an old man now, and it’s true that I am one of the only Genji left in the capital. But there are remnants of other branches of the clan throughout the land that are sick of the Heike’s stranglehold”

“So,” says Mochihito, “what do you ask of me?”

Yorimasa leans forward and locks eyes with the prince.

“This is what you should do, Your Highness. You should raise rebellion and destroy the Heike, rescue the retired Emperor from his confinement, and succeed to the dignity of sovereign of the realm.

“If you were to do so, there would be many Genji who would hasten to your side. From Kumano, Settsu, Kawachi, Yamato, Omi, there are men who will join you. In the mountains of Shinano, there is Kiso no Yoshinaka; far in the north in Mutsu is the youngest son of Yoshitomo, the boy Ushiwaka now known as Yoshitsune – but most important, in Izu, is still the exile Yoritomo. 

Get Yoritomo to lead our rebellion, and hundreds, maybe thousands will follow.”

“Decide to act, your Highness, and issue a call to these men, and they would race day and night to join you, and then we can destroy the Heike before they wreak more havoc on our land.”

For more than an hour, Mochihito consults with his advisors before giving Yorimasa an answer:

“So be it,” the prince declares.

“It appears the Great Sun Goddess calls me to do my duty.”

After his meeting with Yorimasa, Prince Mochihito ordered that a declaration be sent to all corners of the land, carried by the Minamoto Yoshiie, the uncle of Yoritomo, calling for an uprising against the Heike.

Some days later, at the Heike stronghold of Rokuhara, a runner arrived from Kumano, sent by the superintendent Tanzo who had heard word of the prince’s rebellion.

The instant the news arrived, Kiyomori ordered that Mochihito be arrested and banished from the capital. One of the men sent to enforce the order though was Yorimasa’s son, so the prince received advance warning of the attack. 

On that night, Mochihito was contemplating the full moon in a carefree mood, when a hurried messenger came to him, announcing that his rebellion had been discovered, and Heike warriors were on their way. 

“You must leave immediately and proceed to Miidera,” his attendants urged “We will meet you there”

“So, how am I to do that?”

The attendants consulted with each other, then said “There is only way, your highness. You should go dressed as a woman,” 

“What?”

The prince let down his hair, and over layered robes donned a broad conical hat, and a long parasol – and left the mansion in disguise.

Fleeing north up Takakura Street they came to a wide ditch.

The prince leapt it across it, holding his robes.

A passerby observed him with puzzlement: ‘Wow, what a way for a lady to hop over a ditch.”

The prince hurried on as fast as he could. He headed north, then east across the Kamo river, then up the slopes of Mount Nyoi, all the while disguised as a woman.

Meanwhile, the Heike soldiers had broken into Mochihito’s compound, where a samurai named Kio had been captured. At Rokuhara, he was summoned before Lord Munemori, Kiyomori’s son.

“So, you did not go with Yorimasa, you stayed. Why? Is that because thoughts of future wealth and glory aspire you to serve the Heike house?”

Bowing respectfully, Kio replied, “Yes, I cannot act in sympathy with an enemy of the court.”

“Very well,” says Munemori “You will not find me less generous than Yorimasa.”

“I gather, my lord, that Yorimasa has gone off to Miidera temple - no doubt you will wish to send a force to attack him? I would gladly assist, but my horse has been lost in the fighting. Would it be possible, my lord, to let me have one?”

Lord Munemori nodded, eager to see one of Yorimasa’s samurai take forth the Heike banner, and so he gave to Kio one of his favored steeds, a pale grey named Silver.

Kio smiled in gratitude. His plan was working out.

Having reached Miidera temple, Lord Yorimasa was now waiting hopefully for Kio to arrive. His retainers were doubtful. “Don’t worry,” Yorimasa said “He’ll be here.”

Soon enough, out of the mist came a horseman donned in red-laced armor and a helmet studded with silver stars.

“Ah, I knew it!” declared Yorimasa. 

Kio addressed Yorimasa’s son Nakatsuka

“I have brought this horse, Silver, from Rokuhara, in place of your Konoshita. Please accept him. It is a gift from Munemori – although he may not know it yet!”

Nakatsuna was naturally delighted. Right there and then they branded the horse, and the next night sent him back to Rokuhara.

At midnight, in through the Rokuhara gate came the horse heading back to its stable.

The stable hands were astonished: “Silver is back my lord!”

Lord Munemori rushed out and saw that the horse had been branded with a message:

“Once I was Silver.” It read “Now, just a shaven novice. I am Taira no Munemori.”

“Argh” cried Munemori, hopping with rage. “Kio, I’ll cut off your head with a saw!”

With the Heike alerted to the uprising, there was no longer time to wait for reinforcements to arrive from the east. So Yorimasa and Prince Mochihito would have to rely on another source of support –warrior monks. 

Today our image of a Buddhist monk may be of a priest living a life of peaceful meditation, but in the late Heian era, each of the major Buddhist temples possessed its own formidable fighting force – essentially a private army  - of monks trained to fight and protect their monastery from rivals. And the most powerful of these were the temples of Enryakuji, to the north of the capital, on Mount Hiei; Miidera temple, also known as Onjo-ji, to the east, and Kofukuji and Todaiji temples in the former capital of Nara, to the south.

The monks of Miidera quickly voted to support the prince in his stand against the Heike, as they, like many of the other temples, had viewed with alarm Kiyomori’s violent rise to power. But they knew that with Kiyomori on the warpath, they could soon risk annihilation. So they sent out appeals to Mount Hiei and Nara. 

Soon a reply camefrom Enryakuji, basically saying Thanks but no thanks. Kiyomori had already sent to the monks there more than 20,000 bushels of rice and three thousand goods made of silk – a very effective bribe.

That left Nara. From Kofukuji came a much more promising reply. Protect the prince, the monks of Kofukuji urged. Kiyomori is the dregs of the Taira house, and our warriors will stand by you to bring him to account. 

By now, there were reports that Kiyomori had called upon tens of thousands of Heike warriors, so the Miidera monks realized that any attack on Rokuhara would be hopeless. So they decided to head south, in the direction of Nara. 

Among the riders were two monks especially famed for their fighting skills – Ichirai and Jomyo Meishi – as well as Kio, the guardsman who had stolen Munemori’s horse. In total just over 1,500 rode south toward Nara, led by Prince Mochihito, Yorimasa and his son Nakatsuna, hoping to join the monks of Kofukuji.

Between Miidera and Nara was a town called Uji, where a bridge crossed a wide river to the south of the capital. After crossing the river, Yorimasa ordered that wooden planks nearest the south bank be ripped up - and then, by the temple of Byodo-in, they paused, waiting to see who would arrive first: reinforcements from Nara or the pursuing Heike troops from the capital.

It is now early morning - a thick mist hangs over the river and there is an eerie silence. Wearing a long white robe under purple-laced armor, Yorimasa stands on the south bank searching for a sign of movement. Then the silence is broken - a war cry can be heard to the north, from the road leading from the capital. Kiyomori’s army is coming.

The Heike advance guard starts to pour across the bridge, but a panicked voice cries out:

“Look out! They’ve stripped planks from the bridge!”

But it’s too late –a horde of men charge across the bridge, and 200 men at the front are shoved forward and fall into the river.

From either end of the bridge, the sides now exchange opening arrows. 

Now Yorimasa nods to one of the Miidera monks, a giant who strides on to the bridge.

The monk is dressed all in black; on his back he bears 24 arrows fletched with black feathers, at his belt hangs a black-lacquered sword, in one hand he holds a bow, and in the other a mighty axe topped with a spike. 

“Here I am now, before your eyes!” he roars. “You will have heard tell of me – I am Jomyo Meishu, one man ready to face a thousand!”

He releases 23 of his arrows in quick succession – twelve Heike soldiers die, and eleven more are wounded; only one arrow remains. Jomyo drops the bow, unties the quiver, kicks off his boots, and darts across a gap in the bridge, balancing on a single beam. 

Six men come at him from the far end – five he mows down with his axe, but a fierce crack against the sixth breaks the shaft. 

He tosses it aside, draws his sword and carries on fighting, using a dazzling array of techniques – the four-arm cross, the spider strike, the dragon-fly, the waterwheel – his sword flashes until eight men lay dead before him. 

Down his sword comes on the helmet of a ninth, so hard that it breaks at the hilt, flies off and splashes in the river. 

Now his only weapon is a dagger, and in a mad frenzy he welcomes death.

Just then from behind, his fellow-monk Ichirai leaps over his shoulder and enters the fray. “Excuse me, Jomyo, it’s my turn now!”

As Ichirai lays waste to the Heike men in front of him, Jomyo manages to crawl back to grass on the south side of the river. There he takes off his armor and counts sixty-three arrow hits. Five had left wounds, but little damage. He burns mug wort leaves to cauterize his wounds, covers his head in a length of cloth, and cuts down a bow to make a staff; wearing simple clogs on his feet, he starts out for Nara.

By now Ichirai has been cut down by the Heike, but the exploits of the two Miidera monks has inspired others to pour eagerly after them, across the bare beams to attack the Heike. 

The Heike commander Tomomori, son of Lord Kiyomori, is now concerned that his army is still struggling to reach the south bank. He turns to his officers: “We must get across this river – somehow!”

One of the samurai, a 17-year-old warrior named Ashikaga Tadatsuna, steps forward. “Follow me, gentlemen! If we all drown, so be it!” With that he rides straight into the raging water, followed by a host of trusted men, in all 300 riders.

“Keep the stronger horses upstream!” he shouts “Keep a slack rein. When your horse loses footing, tighten the reins to make it swim. Link arms and cross shoulder to shoulder. If anyone is in danger of being swept away, hold out a bow tip for them to hang on to. Head directly across the current. Now let’s get on over there, go!” Despite the arrows raining down on them the riders manage to get to the far bank, without losing a man.

Ashikaga rushes up the bank and toward the Byodo-in temple. ‘Let any ally of Yorimasa who wants to test me come forward” he says ‘I will oblige!” 

From the far side of the river Tomomori sees Ashikaga’s riders advance up the south bank.

“Cross, cross over now!” he orders and the Heike riders plunge into the water. Damned by so many horses and men, the waters of the Uji river start to speed up in places where it can break through, and it sweeps off all in its path’ more than 600 mounted troops are washed down river, drowned. But the rest of the main army gets across and presses the assault in wave after wave through the gate of Byodo-in. The Heike have orders from Lord Munemori to take the samurai Kio alive, because of his theft of Munemori’s horse, but Kio takes his own life after sustaining a grave wound.

Amid the confusion, Yorimasa dispatches Prince Mochihito toward Nara, accompanied by thirty men,  while he and his remaining men stand fast to delay the attackers with their arrows. Despite his advanced age, Yorimasa brings down several Heike before taking an arrow in the knee, a wound he knows will prove fatal. 

Yorimasa retreats inside the temple ground and calls on an attendant Watanabe no Tano. 

“Watanabe, strike me down – cut off my head.”

“I cannot do that, my Lord. But, if you take your own life I can oblige”

“I understand.” Yorimasa faces west, calls on the Buddha’s mercy, and recites a poem:

“This forgotten tree Never through the fleeting years Burst into flower, and now that the end has come, No thought but turns to sorrow.”

He presses his sword point into his belly, collapses forward, and dies. His attendant, weeping, takes Yorimasa’s head, secures it to a heavy stone, steals out beyond the enemy, and drops it into the Uji River.

The battle of Uji River, which took place on the 20th of June, 1180, proved to be a disaster for the enemies of Kiyomori, and a resounding victory for the Heike. Soon after Yorimasa’s death, the Heike forces tracked down the fleeing Prince Mochihito and showered him and attendants with arrows. Only one man survived – the prince’s foster-brother – who evaded detection by leaping into a pond and hiding under the pond weed.

The news that the prince was dead soon reached the warrior-monks who were coming north from Nara. They were just a few hours away from joining the defenders at Uji, but it was too late. With nothing left to fight for, the monks turned around and headed back to Kofukuji.

Even through the Heike had achieved total victory, the short-lived uprising that ended at Uji was a spark that would ignite a much wider rebellion.

Yorimasa’s heroic stand, and his sacrifice by seppuku – among the most famous in history – became an inspiration for other potential rebels. 

Meanwhile, the call to arms sent out by Prince Mochihito was carried across the land, to areas in the north and east that Kiyomori did not yet control.

But the success of any uprising would depend on the decision of a young exile in Izu. All eyes were now on Yoritomo. 

How would he respond?

In the next episode, Yoritomo responds to the call to arms, and start a chain of events that will eventually see him reunited with his long-lost brother.