For better or for worse this condition prevailed and would have controlled the destinies of Shibusawa, as it had those before him, had not a new spirit risen within and possessed him as well as others with whom he was to become related. At the birth of this young prince, which occurred in the month of April, A.D. 1834, Maido, his father, was the lord daimyo[2] of Kanazawa prefecture, comprising the then wealthy and prosperous provinces of Kaga, Echigen, Sado, Echigo, Wakasa, Etchu, and Noto, in the northwestern part of Japan. It was the largest and most powerful of the shogun's[3] many prefectures, and Maido was the last in succession of one of the longest unbroken lines of royal daimyos: under the shogun, he was an undisputed ruler, and his people were among the most progressive and peaceful in the land.
Here, as elsewhere, the lord daimyo knew no law except of his own making; always subject, however, to the dictates of an inborn religion and the payment of just dues to his recognised superior, the shogun. Within the prefecture was the daimyo's estate and the source of his material support, and though Tokyo, the shogun's capital city, was decreed his legal residence, his prefectural land was the place of his birth and succession, his principal home, and the real seat of his power. Yet with all his wealth and influence and character, that he, too, as we shall see, must inevitably bow is the unalterable law of progress.
[Illustration]Maido, the lord daimyo, came strolling, late one May day, along a pebbled pathway in his castle grounds at Kanazawa, and while doing so he caught a last glimpse of the great red sun as it slowly sank toward the western horizon.
"What a glorious sunset!" said he to himself, as he halted and breathed deeply the sweetened air that floated by, lazily flagging the cherry and cypress trees standing here and there in the garden about him.
He paused only a moment, and then slowly approached the family mansion, where he cast his sandals upon the flagstone and bounded upon the polished veranda with a vigour that bespoke a well-preserved age at fifty or more. Once in the house he quietly proceeded to the great chamber and softly clapped his hands, whereupon a servant noiselessly approached, bowed low, and held for his convenience a silken kimono,[4] which he donned and folded in front. Having thus clad himself he turned his back upon Kimon (the Gate of Demons, or northwest comer of the room), crossed his toes under him, and squatted upon the soft, matted floor.