An age of war and tea, p.28
An Age of War and Tea, page 28
“Excellent work in taking Tamba!” Nobunaga called out to Mitsuhide. “I will reward as soon you as Lord Hideyoshi here finally finishes with subduing Harima.” Nobunaga watched Hideyoshi squirm, as was his intention.
“Now, where is this traitor, Hideharu?” Nobunaga said to Mitsuhide. All eyes fell upon Hideharu, prompting Mitsuhide to explain that Lord Hideharu regretted his actions and begged forgiveness for his crimes. He added that safe conduct to Azuchi to plead his case was a condition of Hideharu’s surrender, thus saving many lives on both sides. Nobunaga studied Hideharu. He sat erect and proud, and he returned Nobunaga’s stare with a steely glare of defiance.
“I do not see any signs of contrition here, Mitsuhide,” said Nobunaga, goading Hideharu into speaking.
“My Lord, my crime is that I have resisted your invasion of my lands for these past three years, but now I accept defeat and respectfully ask that I may live in peace with my family.” Nobunaga waved his war fan to signal the guards to have Hidehisa and their mother brought in. They stood before Nobunaga with their hands bound and feet tied together.
“My Lord,” Mitsuhide protested, “I have given my word to undertake safe-conduct for Lord Hideharu and his family.”
“My patience is at an end with traitors.” Nobunaga nodded to his adjutant and several more guards entered to arrest and restrain Hideharu before leading them all away.
“My Lord,” pleaded Mitsuhide, “what is happening?”
“What is happening, Lord Mitsuhide is that the traitor and his family are on their way to the execution grounds on Mount Kinsho for immediate crucifixion.”
Outside in the castle courtyard, as Mitsunari and Yoshimasa walked towards their quarters, light rain fell and Mitsunari commented on Nobunaga’s decision to execute Hideharu and his family.
“I never thought I would say this, but I felt sorry for Mitsuhide. He gave his word and is now dishonoured. Do you think he will commit seppuku?”
“No. He has to ask permission first and the lord will forbid it,” Yoshimasa said. “It is not for us to question the Lord’s decisions. Consider how many enemies he has forgiven, only to have them betray him again. He pardoned his brother, Nobuyuki, for conspiring against him only for him to try again, as did another brother Nobuhiro. Now it would seem Nobunaga has added Murashige and Hideharu to the list.”
“Maybe so but, I thought it unnecessary to kill Hideharu’s family, though,” Mitsunari replied.
“The family are, but an extension of the head of the household, his crimes are their crimes.”
#
In the tenth month under grey autumn skies, an angry Nobunaga returned to Arioka to deal with Araki Murashige. This time he took with him Akechi Mitsuhide, Hashiba Hideyoshi, and Takigawa Kazumasu. Yoshimasa also accompanied Nobunaga.
Nobunaga’s latest anger stemmed from the humiliating news circulating in the capital of Murashige’s audacious attack on Nobutada’s Kamo Fortress. With only five hundred men, Murashige overran the fortress, which was garrisoned with three thousand seasoned Mino and Oda soldiers. Nobutada was lucky to escape without injury. It was just before dawn in the hour of the tiger when Nobunaga arrived at Arioka and set up a camp at Murashige’s abandoned Ikeda Castle, which lay across the Ina River opposite Arioka Castle. Yoshimasa was sent to scout Arioka’s defences and report back.
With Nobutada’s forces reassigned to Amagasaki castle to put a stop to the frequent forays out of the castle by the Amagasaki defenders, Nobunaga depleted siege force waited patiently for Yoshimasa’s return.
“The castle is well defended and provisioned with water from the Ina River,” Yoshimasa reported on his return. “Moats and fortresses surround its inner and outer citadels.”
“Yes, we know all that,” an annoyed Nobunaga replied. “What do you suggest?”
“My Lord, the castle is impregnable to frontal assault, but they are vulnerable to attack from within.” Nobunaga slapped his war fan on his hip in annoyance at the suggestion.
“I assume you have more to tell than this, Yoshimasa,” Nobunaga said dryly.
“My Lord, the lord of Arioka, having abandoned the defenders to their fate, presents us with an opportunity. Morale is low and with the right inducements, Arioka’s commanders might be ripe for defection.”
Nobunaga snarled, “The only inducement they have to consider is sparing their lives, but I take your point.”
Following the failure of negotiations with Arioka’s defenders, a determined and visibly angry Nobunaga launched a full-scale night-time assault on the castle led by his general Takigawa Kazumasu. The first attack was against the Jorozuka Fortress protecting Arioka’s gates. Teppo units fired volley after volley into the fortress and archers let loose with fire arrows, setting fire to the residences behind the wall.
Kazumasu’s advance met with little resistance, and they easily breached the castle gates. Once inside, Kazumasu’s men faced the defector Araki commanders, Nakanishi Shinhachiro, and Miyawaki Heishiro. The commanders had earlier sent word to Kazumasu that the garrison would surrender, but Nobunaga refused to accept it and overruled him. Kazumasu pressed his attack, reinforced by Hideyoshi, who, along with Mitsunari, chased the Araki commanders into the inner citadel. Surrounded by water-filled moats on three sides and a dry moat on its southern flank, the inner citadel was only accessible by its drawbridge spanning the dry moat. Kazumasu moved his forces in front of the drawbridge and called out to the defenders. He warned he would have his men fill in the moat and storm the citadel and they would spare no one, whereupon the citadel commander Araki Kyuzaemon lowered the bridge and opened the gates, ending the siege of Arioka Castle.
Nobunaga had Araki Kyuzaemon brought to him, and he was not inclined to spare the castle inhabitants unless Kyuzaemon persuaded Murashige to leave Amagasaki castle. Taking fifty of his soldiers, Kyuzaemon went to Amagasaki to deliver Nobunaga’s demands, and given the perilous situation Murashige was in, Kyuzaemon was confident his lord would see reason. Despite his pleadings, Kyuzaemon failed to persuade Murashige and not wanting to face Nobunaga’s wrath, he fled with his soldiers and melted away into the Rokko Mountains. Nobunaga patiently waited well into the twelfth month, but having not heard anything from Murashige or Kyuzaemon, he closed the chapter on the Araki clan. Kazumasu, Hideyoshi, and Mitsuhide, out of concern for the fate of Arioka’s inhabitants, petitioned Nobunaga for leniency.
“Murashige has abandoned his family, his clan and his people to their fate,” Nobunaga said. “He is not fit to be a Daimyo, and Kyuzaemon has broken his promise and not returned despite knowing the consequences for his people.” Nobunaga slapped his war fan against his thigh to ease the anger within him and decreed the following.
“Murashige’s wife, mother, and all of Murashige’s family, along with their retainers, are to be taken to Kyoto for execution. The rest are to be sent to Nobutada at Amagasaki Castle.” Hideyoshi suspected he knew the answer but asked, anyway.
“What will become of the garrison at Amagasaki Castle?” Hideyoshi asked.
“Nobutada has his instructions.”
“My Lord,” Mitsuhide shouted. “As you well know, my daughter is Murashige’s daughter-in-law.”
“I am aware you once had a daughter, Mitsuhide. She is no longer Akechi but an Araki and is expected to share their fate.” Mitsuhide begrudgingly bowed his head to the inevitable. He wanted to beg for her life, but he knew it would be useless. Nobunaga was right, his daughter married an Araki, and her fealty is to the Araki clan, but he felt powerless and grew angry at the thought Nobunaga allowed his sister, Lady Oichi, who married his enemy Azai Nagamasa, to live. A brooding Mitsuhide excused himself and returned to his quarters, determined to get drunk and obliterate the pain he felt.
On the next day, in front of the defenders of Amagasaki Castle, Nobutada following his father’s instructions and his penchant for cruelty had ninety-seven crosses erected to crucify a portion of the hostages, for ninety-seven was the quantity he was restricted to in materials and time. One hundred and twenty women with children were lined up and shot by Nobutada’s Teppo units, and the remaining castle survivors in their hundreds were herded into four nearby farmhouses which were set on fire. Nobutada’s example in front of Amagasaki Castle did little to elicit a reaction from the castle defenders, and spies reported to Nobutada that once again Murashige had slipped away and escaped to the last Araki Fortress of Hanakuma Castle.
It took Nobunaga until spring the following year to mount an effective siege against Hanakuma, and a further five months to breach Hanakuma’s defences, only to discover that Murashige had again abandoned the castle and fled to the safety of the Mori clan.
#
Winter/Twelfth Month: Seventh Year of Tensho (1579)
Following the fall of Amagasaki Castle, Mitsuhide petitioned Lord Nobunaga to be allowed to return to his fife at Sakamoto. To reach Sakamoto meant passing through his intended destination, Kyoto and his daughters’ execution.
Mitsuhide left Amagasaki and rode alone, while his six retainers followed behind. His need for solitude grew strong, and he had a lot on his mind. Upon reaching the outskirts of Kyoto, Mitsuhide broke into a trot, and enormous wisps of warm vapour rose from the labouring nostrils of his horse as it mingled with the frosty morning air. Overhead, the clouds rolled away and blue skies with radiant sunshine appeared. The snow glistened on the ground and were it not for such a heavy heart, the magnificent view of the capital would have lifted his spirits.
The notice pinned to the veranda post of the inn he stopped at reminded Mitsuhide of why he was here. It announced the schedule for thirty-six executions to take place at dusk today at the Rokujo-gawara. His home at Sakamoto castle was but a half-day’s ride away and Mitsuhide had three of his retainers continue towards Sakamoto and prepare for his late arrival. Meanwhile, he would rest at the inn for the rest of the day.
Six bells rang out to signal the hour of the rooster had arrived, marking the beginning of the dusk period. Accompanied by his three retainers, Mitsuhide set off for the Sanjo Ohashi bridge spanning the Kamogawa River. The execution grounds of the Rokujo-gawara lay a short distance ahead in one of the dry riverbeds that once fed off the Kamogawa.
They found the bridge congested with hundreds of spectators making their way to the execution grounds for their evening entertainment. Mitsuhide’s retainers, with their hands menacingly resting on the hilt of their swords, cleared a passage through the throng and over the bridge. A steep path led down an embankment to the Rokujo-gawara and as they descended, the tops of crosses used for crucifixion came into view. At the bottom of the path, a large crowd had already gathered, and shouts of laughter permeated the air, creating an almost obscene, carnival-like atmosphere. Mitsuhide’s retainers again cleared a path and pushed through towards the Samurai guards in charge, passing the crucified bodies of long-dead souls with birds feasting on their eyes and open wounds.
One of the guards, recognising Mitsuhide, bowed and cleared a space for him among the crowd while another guard rushed to provide a camp stool. The crowd, upon seeing Mitsuhide as someone of significant importance, kept a respectful distance, and while he sat, he dwelt on the fate of his daughter Shizen. A nearby peasant girl playing with her brother immediately caught the attention of Mitsuhide and memories of Shizen as a little girl flooded his mind. He remembered a time when she wore her favourite bright blue silk kimono and played at skimming flat stones across the surface of the garden pond with her older sister, Tama. As children, the pair were inseparable, but having been raised by different mothers, they also grew up with distinct personalities. Tama, his daughter from his formal wife, Tsumaki Hiroko, was headstrong and loved learning about history and the arts, and when the time came, she was married off to Nagaoka Tadaoki of the Hosokawa clan. Shizen’s mother was Mitsuhide’s concubine, Hachijo-in, and became Mitsuhide’s favourite, and she too was eventually married off to Murashige’s son, Araki Muratsugu.
As his eyes glazed over, Mitsuhide woke from his memories to the sounds of shouting and opened his eyes to see guards leading the Arioka hostages onto the old dried out riverbed. They all had their hands bound and were tied together in a line with rope. Mitsuhide’s heart sank when he recognised the lead prisoner as Shizen. They had dressed her in white clothes, the colour of mourning, and her eyes looked downward, oblivious to her father’s presence. The Samurai leading them stopped and readout for the benefit of those assembled the charges for which they were to be executed and a thought flashed in Mitsuhide’s mind.
I could stop all this. I outrank them all.
Without thinking, his body tensed, and he attempted to rise, but his intentions were transparent enough for his retainer to place a restraining hand on his shoulder.
“If you do, my Lord,” the retainer said, “Lord Nobunaga will order your seppuku and she will still die.” The moment to act had passed, and he resigned himself to the inevitable. Not wanting to witness her death, Mitsuhide rose and walked away with his retainers. He had taken only half a dozen steps when he heard a dull thud and the roar of the crowd behind him, and he stopped. Anger again welled up inside him, and he inwardly cursed Nobunaga.
He could have spared her for me like he spared his sister.
The snow had become heavier, and Mitsuhide had lost no time in leaving Kyoto. At the inn, he had the horses re-saddled, and his retainers sent to purchase fresh straw capes. It was late into the hour of the rat, well after midnight, by the time Mitsuhide arrived home to Sakamoto Castle. With the household roused, servants scurried off to prepare refreshments for their lord. Mitsuhide was in no mood to eat, but he had planned on drinking. Yukishige, one of Mitsuhide’s trusted castle retainers, informed him that a priest from the Daito-Ku-Ji Temple had arrived earlier in the day with important news and was resting in the drawing-room.
“Send him in later. First, I need a drink,” Mitsuhide said as he handed the reins of his horse to Yukishige. Mitsuhide took his refreshments in the garden room. In summer, the room would be wide open to view the garden’s beauty and receive the cooling breeze coming off Lake Biwako, but tonight the wintry winds and heavy snow decided that the doors would remain shut. Servants brought in a warming charcoal brazier, and Mitsuhide warmed both his hands and his sake. Tonight, he would pour his own sake and he ignored the plates of fresh Bonito, Miso soup, and pickles laid out before him. He downed two bowls of warm sake in quick succession and then summoned the priest.
The Zen priest Sakugen Shuryo, expecting another cold room, stepped into the garden room, clutching his patchwork Kesa (priestly outer robe) tightly against his chest. He welcomed the warmth of the brazier and, at Mitsuhide’s invitation, sat down and warmed his hands.
“Greetings, Shuryo,” Mitsuhide said. “How is Mother? And What brings you here at this time of night?”
“I bear grave news, my lord. Your mother, Omaki-no-kata, has died.” Mitsuhide fell silent and eventually stammered his reply.
“How is this possible?” Mitsuhide exclaimed. “Before I left for Tamba I had visited her at your temple, and she was in fine spirits enjoying seeing out her days as a nun?” Shuryo, who had momentarily bowed his shaven head in prayer, looked at Mitsuhide. His sunken eyes were full of pity, but it was his duty, to be honest with him.
“Lord. The noble Omaki-no-kata has been killed.”
“How?” Mitsuhide demanded. Shuryo hesitated before replying.
“It is gruesome, Lord.”
“Tell me,” Mitsuhide again demanded.
“We found her body nailed to doors of the Daito-Ku-Ji. All her fingers were missing.” First anger, then a wave of depression swept over Mitsuhide as he choked on his words.
“Who is responsible?” Shuryo reached under into his robe and withdrew a folded note and handed it to Mitsuhide.
“My Lord, they nailed this notice alongside your mother’s body.” Mitsuhide snatched the note and read the simple wording.
In revenge for Hideharu’s mother. The note fell from his hands, and he reached for his sake bowl, hurling it across the room. He cursed as he watched it bounce off the mat, tearing a hole in one of the papered screen walls.
“Damn Nobunaga to the lowest levels of the Avichi hell.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The End of the Takeda
Spring: Tenth Year of Tensho (1582)
Two more winters had passed, and Nobunaga looked forward to consolidating his conquests. Hideyoshi had finally subdued Harima and Inaba provinces and brought the Mori clan to its knees, closing the supply route to the rebel monks of Ishiyama Hongan-Ji and ending their decades-old rebellion. General Shibata Katsuie, accompanied by Yoshimasa and his Teppo rifle brigade, added more misfortune to the rebel monks of Kaga Province and brought it under Nobunaga’s umbrella.
In the third month, as Mitsunari languished at Nagahama castle, he worried that he might one day die in battle without ever finding out the truth of Kasumi’s secret. He had just explained to Hideyoshi the events surrounding her death and the letter she wrote. The key was Hattori Hanzo, and Mitsunari sought leave from Hideyoshi to seek him out.
“Where would you find Hanzo?” asked Hideyoshi.
“Perhaps at Hamamatsu, where Lord Ieyasu is.”
“Ieyasu is not at Hamamatsu. In case you have not heard, Katsuyori’s retainer, Kiso Yoshinaka of Shinano, has rebelled and sworn allegiance to Nobunaga. Katsuyori has responded by sending a large force into the Kiso Mountains to deal with Yoshinaka, and that is where Ieyasu is heading.”
“Then with your permission, which is where I must go,” said Mitsunari.
“You cannot just wander into an attacking army and have a chat. I will write a letter outlining your mission and a request for safe passage to Ieyasu. One more thing, Ieyasu is joining up with Nobutada’s army, so do nothing silly.” As Mitsunari rode out for Shinano, a journey that would take the best part of five days, he looked back and noticed the dark clouds rolling in over Nagahama.
