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Early Japan
Early Japan
The Rise of the Japanese State
The Ancient Period
The origins of Japanese culture as we know it are to be found on the island of Kyûshu. The classic Japanese record of ancient events, the Kojiki, records that the Emperor Jimmu-Tenno oversaw the migration of the Japanese people from Kyûshu to the Yamato region. While the Kojiki says that this move occurred around 660 BC, modern scholars believe the transition occurred sometime in the 1st Century AD - perhaps around the same time iron working was introduced to Japan.
The Yamato peoples were essentially a clan (uji)-based society, loosely ruled by an Emperor or Empress, and in which religious ceremonies played an important part in governance. There would be no permanent seat of Imperial power for centuries, instead shifting with the ascension of each new ruler. This practice may have been based in the Shintô religion, which held that a home was defiled once a person had died within it's walls. It might be noted here that the Yamato rulers were elaborate tomb-builders, and one of these, the final resting place of the Emperor Nintoku, is truly remarkable.
In time, three families became particularly influential with the court-the Sogo, Motonobe and Nakatomi. The Motonobe appear to have been responsible or at least concerned with military affairs, for they were known as the 'Armorers'. The Nakatomi were the official practitioners of the Shintô faith and were the 'Court Ritualists'. There were many more clans, but judging by the following events, these seemed to have taken up camp behind one or the other of these three main families.
The Wei Chih, a chronicle of the events of the Wei Dynatsy in northern China (founded by the Emperor Cao Cao in 220 AD), provides us with an interesting and evidently faithful outside impression of the developing Yamato peoples as of around 297 AD…
"The people of Wa make their abode in the mountainous islands located in the middle of the ocean to the southeast of the Taifang prefecture. Formerly there were more then 100 communites. During the Han Dynasty their envoys appeared in court… They wear loincloth wrapped around their bodies and seldom uses stitches. Women gather their hair at the ends and tie in a knot and then pin it to the top of their heads. They make their clothes in one piece, and cut an opening in the center for their heads. They plant wet field rice, China grass (ramie), and mulberry trees. They raise cocoons and reel the silk off the cocoons. They produce clothing made of China grass, of coarse silk, and of cotton…They fight with halberds, shields, and wooden bows... There are class distinctions within the nobility and the base, and some of vassals of others. There are mansions and granaries erected for the purpose of collecting taxes. Each community has a marketplace where commodities are exchanged under the supervision of an official of Wa…'1
Little is known for certain about the centuries prior to and immediately following the Wei Chih, which is both intriguing and thought provoking. What, precisely, was meant by '100 communities'? Some recent scholars have taken the view that this could indicate multiple 'Japanese', of which the Yamato and Yamatai were two. In helping to at least fill the empty places in the story of Japan, our two primary Japanese sources on ancient affairs, the Kojiki and Nihon sho-ki, both call attention to the semi-mythical Yamato Takeru. A younger son of the Emperor keiko, Prince Yamato began his adventures by killing an elder brother who had not attended dinner with the family for a week. Perturbed at his son's violent disposition, keiko sent Yamato off to fight a rival tribe at Kumaso on Kyûshu. He arrived at Kumaso to find his quarry, two brothers, heavily guarded in their house, and hastily devised a scheme. He dressed himself in a robe his aunt had given him prior to departing and did his hair up in the way a woman might. Yamato was thus able to mingle with the women of the Kumaso borthers, and was allowed to sit with them during a feast that night. Mid-way through the proceedings, Yamato suddenly attacked and killed one of the brothers outright. The other brother attempted to flee but was tackled by Yamato…
"The prince said, 'I am a son of Emperor Otarashi-hiko-oshiro-wake (keiko), who, seated at the Hishiro Palace in Makimuku, rules the Great Eight Islands, and my name is Boy Prince Yamato. His majesty heard that you two Kumaso Braves haven't surrendered or paid your respects, so he sent me here to kill you.
'When he heard this, the Kumaso Brave said, "That's quite correct. In the west there's no other brave, no strong man other then the two of us. But in the Great Country of Yamato there is a man far braver then we are. May I give you a new name? From now on you should call yourself Prince Yamato Takeru."
As soon as this was said, the prince killed him by splitting him like ripe melon. From then on, people honored the prince by calling him Prince Yamato Takeru. On the way back he subdued and pacified all the mountain deities, river deities, and deities of the strights."2
On his way home, Yamato killed an independent leader of Izumo Province by first befriending him then tricking him into a swordfight (having sabatoged the man's sword). The prince was no sooner back in Yamato then his father had sent him to quell the eastern provinces (in this case the lands to the east of Yamato, to include Owari and Omi. After a series of further adventures (in which he sheds his earlier boorishness), Yamoto tragically dies.
The historical basis for Yamato Takeru is obscure at best, and he is likely an amalgamation of several different men, possibly including one emperor. Even the date of his father's reign is unclear. What can be said with some certainty is that the story of Prince Yamato (scarcely done justice here) loomed large in the development of what one could call the 'Japanese Philosophy'. Men of bravery, duty, and of tragic ends would crop up again and again throughout Japanese history, from Minamoto Yoshitsune to the old Takeda generals of Nagashino.
The Formation of the State
The Yamato court had become sufficiently developed by the 4th Century to send expeditions to Korea, although some if not most of these invasions rest on somewhat shaky historical ground (including the campaign led by the regent-empress Jingu Kogo in 200AD). There is some evidence that in the year 366 a mission was sent against the ancient Korean kingdom of Paekche and that in the aftermath a Japanese settlement/outpost called Mimana was established in southern Korea. Further military expeditions seem to have been carried out on behalf of Paekche against the other Korean kingdoms of Koguryo and Silla. These adventures came to an end with the fall of Mimana to Silla in 562, though not before Buddhism had been introduced to Japan, thanks in part to the King of Paekche, who in 538 (or 552, according to the Nihon sho-ki) dispatched gifts of Buddhist sutras and artifacts to the Japanese court (along with a thinly-veiled request for more military aid).
Ironically, Buddhism sparked fierce controversy within Yamato following its acceptance by the Imperial Court. Two of the notable families, the Nakatomi and Motonobe, strongly opposed the court's welcome of the foreign religion as well as the continuing involvement in Korea. The Sogo family, perhaps for political capital, embraced Buddhism, and their stance saw them gain favor with the imperial court. Sogo Iname's evident ploy to gain Imperial prestige backfired, however, when a plague broke out and was blamed on the Sogo's worship of the Buddhist image. The Sogo suffered the burning of their family temple and saw the Buddhist image tossed into a moat.
In around May 587 the Emperor Yomei died, and the feud between the Motonobe and Soga reached a boiling point. The leader of the Motonobe, Moriya, planned to arrange for a certain Prince Anahobe to ascend the throne. Sogo no Umako learned of the scheme, and, fearing the results should an enemy of the Sogo take the throne, had both Moriya and the Prince assassinated. Umako then decided to press the initiative and have it out with the Motonobe once and for all. It was a dangerous gamble, as the Motonobe were, after all, the 'official' military clan. Yet Moriya's death seems to have weakened his family and their pull with the other families. Following a string of clashes, the Motonobe were completely destroyed at the Battle (or Disturbance) of Mt. Shigi. In the aftermath of this great victory, Umako arranged for Prince Hatsusebe to succeed Yomei, and in September of 587 the Emperor Sujun took the throne. Umako ended up having the Emperor Sujun assassinated in 593 to protect his position and replaced with his own niece Suiko. At the same time Umako named the late Yomei's son as Regent (Sessho) to Suiko, a capacity in which he acted until 622. The regent became known as Shotoku Taishi, a remarkable figure in the shaping of Japanese culture and perhaps Japan's first statesman. Shotoku's de facto rule would see the Sinifcation of the Yamato people, including the adoption of the Chinese calendar, Chinese written characters, and, above all else, an embrace of Buddhism. Shotoku also reformed the government's ranking system in 603 and the following year (supposedly) composed his Jushichijo no Kempo (Seventeen Article Constitution), a document inspired by Chinese Confucian ethics that centered on a call for unity of spirit among the Yamato houses. Shotoku also sent three missions to China itself on behalf of the Empress of the 'Rising Sun', though he did not win great favor with the Sui court for the tone his dispatches took: that of an equal rather than an inferior.
Shotoku died in 622 and while much about his life is unknown, his contribution to the developing Japanese society was immense. At the same time, the fortunes of the family that had sponsored him began to decline. Emboldened by an extended time in the limelight, the Sogo became exceedingly high-handed in their dealings with the other houses, and prompted their old rivals, the Nakatomi, to action. Nakatomi Kamatari worked out an alliance with an Imperial prince named Naka no Ôe in 645 and later that year arranged for the Sogo chieftain, Iruka, to be cut down in the Court of the Empress Kokyoku. Kokyoku abdicated the throne and her brother Kotoku assumed her place, whilst the two conspirators ruled from behind the scenes. In appreciation for their efforts, the new regime awarded the Nakatomi with a special place at court and a new name, Fujiwara. Together, Naka no Ôe and Kamatari worked towards the realization of a sweeping set of new ideals that became known as the Taika (Great Change) reforms. The Taika reforms, borrowed freely from Chinese institutions, were designed to further strengthen the Imperial rule. The organization of provinces (kuni) was outlined, and the practice of reign names established (the first being, of course, Taika); the government was restructured along Chinese lines, and steps were taken towards economic reforms, which included a new system of taxation. Buddhism became even more entrenched, thanks in part to the ironic embrace of that religion by Fujiwara (Nakatomi) Kamatari. Conscription was introduced, although there is no way of knowing to what extent this practice was employed. Conscription was obviously unpopular, however, and was likened to the worst sort of forced labor.
This (virtual) political upheaval went quite peacefully, especially considering the manner in which Kotoku and the Fujiwara had come to power. When Kotoku died in 654, he was succeded by his sister, the former empress, Kokyoku. Kokyoku became known as Samei, and her six-year reign was to see a resurgence of interest in continental affairs. Exceedingly little is known about the events of her rule, but tradition has it that Samei was determined to liberate Paekche, recently conquered by Tang China. To this end, the empress led some 27,000 men from the Yamato in 662 (?) and had reached Kyûshu when she suddenly died of illness. Her followers decided to go forward with the expedition, a mistake that ended in complete defeat at the hands of the Tang navy. Whatever the specifics of this miscarried bid to return to Korea, no further expeditions of this sort would be attempted for nearly a thousand years. One side effect of the campaign was that it left the Court somewhat paranoid in regards to a possible counter-attack by the Tang, and efforts were taken to secure Kyûshu against invasion.
The Taihô-Yôrô Code and the Nara Period
Prince Naka no Ôe, already a seasoned politician, assumed the throne in Samei's place, and became known as the Emperor Tenchi. He ruled until 670 and during that time devoted himself to realization of the Taika reforms. His successor, the Emperor Kobun, was usurped in a civil war that saw the rise of the Emperor Temmu (Hakuho) in 673. Changes continued to sweep the Yamato region, and in 702 would culminate in the Taihô Code and the movement of the Imperial Court to Nara. The Taihô Code was expanded in the Second Year of Yoro, and is therefore sometimes referred to as the Taihô-Yoro code. The revised version of the Taihô code survives intact to this day. The Code called for the division of government into two overall offices-that of Administration and that of Religion, and the description of the latter clearly demonstrates the continued importance of Shintôism, despite a powerful Buddhist presence at Nara: 'The Ministers (Haku) [of the Department of Religion (Jingi Kan)] shall be responsible for the performance of [Shintô] religious ceremonies and keeping registers of all [Shintô] priests corporations of attendants of shrines.'
The administrative body of government was sub-divided into eight Ministries (Central Affairs, Ceremonial, Civil Administration, Popular Affairs (all under the control of the Controller of the Left; War, Justice, Treasury, and Imperial Household, under the Controller of the Right), and here we see clear Chinese influences. The question which has long interested scholars is just HOW greatly the Code was inspired by Chinese models-was it in fact borrowed word by word from some Chinese source document? The Code also divided Japan into provinces (kuni) and placed a governor (kami) in charge of each. These governors, and their deputies, were in practice tax-collecting bodies for the Court, although in theory they carried Imperial authority in all domestic and military matters pertaining to their provinces. The Household Law section of the Taihô-Yoro code allows us some glimpse into certain aspects of the lives of the common people, though in so far as law was concerned.
6. The following classification of members of a household must be used.
Males and females up to the age of 3: infants
Males and females from 3 to 16: children
Males and females from 16 to 20: youth and girls
Males of 21 and upwards: able-bodied
Males of 61 and upwards: elders
Males of 66 and upwards: aged men.
23. In the sharing of an inheritance (upon the decease of the head of a house) all property must be added together, namely servants, slaves, land, houses, and other property, and shared out as follows:
The mother (being wife of the household) 2 shares
The stepmother 2 shares
Children of the wife 2 shares
Children of concubines 1 share
24. Males may marry at the age of fifteen, females at the age of thirteen.
25. A woman before marriage must obtain the consent of her family, viz. paternal grandfather and grandmother, father and mother, uncles and aunts, cousins, ect.
33.The governor shall once a year make a tour of his province, when he shall take note of local customs; enquire after the health of persons over 100 years of age; examine the cases of persons detained in prison, and put right any injustices…'3
The court was not to avoid strife in its new home, due in part to an exceedingly pervasive influence held by the Buddhist clergy. In the year 758 the empress Koken abdicated in favor of Junnin, one of Temmu's grandsons. Junnin was supported by Fujiwara Nakamoro, the influential and ambitious leader of the Fujiwara who worked towards phasing out conscription in favor of a more professional military establishment. It happened that Koken, who held considerable power behind the scenes, took a certain Buddhist priest named Dokyû as an advisor and, so the story goes, as a lover. Dokyû's resulting power prompted the jealousy of Nakamoro, made only worse when Koken arranged to have Junnin taken from the throne and shipped off to Awaji Island (where he was soon to be killed on Koken's orders). Perhaps feeling threatened now that he no longer had the favor of the court, Nakamoro revolted in 765, only to suffer defeat and death. The Empress Shotoku (as Koken called herself during her second reign) died in 770, and the Fujiwara was quick to avenge themselves on Dokyû, who by now had been elevated to the rank of Hô-ô, a religious title that essentially had made him the second in charge at court. The Fujiwara sent this colorful character off into exile, and determined that from that point on, a woman was never again to assume the throne-a rule that held without exception until the ascension of the Empress Meisho in 1629.
Political vicissitudes aside, the Nara Period was an important and decisive time of transition for the Japanese state. Culturally and religiously as well as politically, the Japanese were in a state of steady refinement. Nara was to prove a stepping-stone, and the next leap forward was to be engineered by Kammu-one of the greatest of Japan's emperors.
The Emishi
By this point, the Yamato peoples had begun to expand deeper into the interior of Honshu. In the way of their colonization stood the emishi (or barbarians). These mysterious tribes are traditionally taken to have been the Ainu, the aboriginal people who now live in northern Hokkaido and enjoy a exceptionally peaceful culture. There is the possibility that many of these 'emishi' were in fact simply less culturally developed relatives of the Yamato peoples. This theory (a relatively recent one) is supported to an extent by the almost complete lack of evidence that the Ainu have ever lived on Honshu, much less Kyûshu. Additionally, later records, especially those detailing the campaigns of Minamoto Yoshiie, describe the 'emishi' in such a manner as to imply particularly rustic Japanese clans. No sufficiently conclusive answer has ever been provided for this question.
Whether the emishi were the Ainu, rustic Japanese tribes, or a combination of both, when they resisted the newcomers (which they did not always do), they did so tenaciously. By 720, the Imperial Court at Nara could claim influence as far as the remote Kanto region, but was faced with frequent emishi disturbances. In that a former ambassador to China and Inspector of the provinces of Sagami, Shimotsuke, and Kozuke, Tajihi Agatamori, was assigned the rank of Jeisetsu Sei-I-shôgun and given authority to war on the emishi. This may have been the first conferment of the rank of 'shôgun' on an individual in Japanese history.
The title of Sei-I-shôgun meant 'barbarian-quelling general', while sei-to-shôgun (essentially comparable) meant 'General who quells the eastern barbarians'. These titles were given on a temporary basis and were probably inspired by similarly dramatic Chinese military ranks. The actual extent of authority a Sei-I-shôgun carried is unclear, but he was clearly considered a commander-in-chief on his given assignment.
In 784 the noted poet-governor Ôtomo Yakamochi was given the title of Sei-I-shogun and sent to quell rebellious emishi in Mutsu province, an assignment which he proved unable to complete. Three years later the Emperor Kammu gave Ki no Kosami the title of shogun and 52,000 men (needless to say, a rather unbelievable figure) and sent him against the recalcitrant emishi of Mutsu. Once there, Ki was soundly defeated and his army recalled in shame. Clearly, these emishi may have been considered 'barbarians' but they were dangerous opponents. Kammu was furious at Ki's defeat, and nearly had him put to death. The emperor ordered a retaliatory expedition organized but this did not actually depart until 794 owing to logistical difficulties and the movement of the capital to Kyoto. The new commanders, Ôtomo Otomaro and Sakanoue Tamuramaro, fared much better then Ki, and returned in triumph.
Can we see in these early expeditions, and the countless skirmishes and raids that must have taken place over the countries, the seeds of a martial tradition? The Taihô Code of 702 had attempted to limit the ownership of weapons and strengthen the power of the Imperial military (an ambition furthered to an extent by the workings of Fujiwara Nakamoro in the 760's) and yet there is no indication that these laws extended beyond the Yamato Region. The clans who battled the emishi did so in part (we can assume) in the hopes of securing sizable rewards of land in the newly colonized areas, and to maintain these in the face of emishi resistance, arms would need to be kept. As late the 16th Century the Kanto was considered remote from the Home Provinces, a rustic land that sprawled beyond the Hakone Mountains, themselves traditionally considered the gates to the barbarous east. In the 8th and 9th Centuries, the eastern provinces must have seemed like another world. It would have taken hardy, resourceful folk to brave the dangers and settle these wild lands, even as their countrymen back home would come to regard them as little more then emishi themselves. With easy communications impossible and a potential enemy close at hand, these Japanese frontiersmen could not rely on the Imperial military for their defense. The clans that began to populate the Kanto region and its environs were to prove tough, proud, and independent-minded. These may well have provided the basis for the samurai tradition.
The Early warriors
The warriors of early Japan bore only a passing resemblance to the later samurai. Weaponry and armor were of a distinctly Chinese flavor, and the earliest warriors carried shields, a device evidently out of vogue even before the Heian period. Some of our knowledge of the weapons and protection the early Japanese warrior carried comes from artifacts excavated from the tombs constructed in the 4th and 5th Centuries to house departed royalty. Another, just as valuable resource are the haniwa, which were clay statues evidently used as grave markers (as opposed to guardians or servants, as in China). A good number of these haniwa depict warriors, and these provide us some insight into the nature of 'home-grown' Japanese armor of the time. The influence of China and Korea on early Japanese armor is evident, but may in part be explained by the large numbers of Koreans who settled in Japan prior to 562. The primary armor of the Yamato period seems to have been the tanko ('short armor'). Apparently designed for use by warriors on foot, the tanko was constructed from iron plates and vaguely resembled a corset, with an open top and an effort at body contouring. These do (cuirasses) were heavy and supported by both the hips and, thanks to cloth straps, the shoulders. Distinctive helmets were worn with tanko, and typified by a prominent front whose extended construction has earned it the nickname shokkau tsuki kabuto, or 'battering-ram helmet'. Additional protection was gleaned from kata yoroi, or shoulder armor and akabe yoroi - neck armor. The entire ensemble was coated with lacquer to provide the metal some protection from the elements.
The horse was imported to Japan sometime in the 4th or 5th Century, and quickly became a valuable commodity. Also brought over from the continent were keiko, or suits of lamellar scaled armor. This type, which is traditionally associated with horsemen, provided the foundation from which the classic patterns of samurai armor construction would build. Earlier examples resembled a sleeveless robe made of iron scales that extended to the upper or middle thighs and was fastened by bows at the front. Leg armor came into use, and the plate armor that had once protected the shoulders was replaced with flexible splint armor. Variations on the basic theme of the keiko would be produced into the Heian Period, and the tanko remained in use, though probably modified to enjoy some of the advantages of the keiko's lamed design. One such development were the kusazuri, or 'grass rubbing', which hung from the cuirass and protected the upper thighs. The kusazuri would become a staple of Japanese armor design.
The Yamato warriors carried sword, spear, and bow, the first resembling Chinese examples much more then the katana so familiar to us today. Again, clearly indigenous examples are rare, but a few basic sword types can be categorized. Among these was the kabutschi tachi, perhaps in use from 300 to 500 ad. Typified by a large pommel and almost claymore like appearance, the kabutschi was straight-edged and long, whereas the Warabite tachi (ca.650-680) was much shorter (somewhat less then half the length) and may have been a purpose built short sword.
The bow the Yamato warriors used may well have borne at least a conceptual resemblance to that employed by the later samurai. The Wei Chi reports, "The lower inflection of their bows is shorter, and the upper inflection longer." At least one source, the Nihongi (Chronicles of Japan) mentions the use of mounted archers in a succession dispute in 672, a possible early model for the future samurai. Beyond the manner of weaponry and armor that these early warriors wore, we are left only with conjecture. How they fought their battles - to what extent they were ceremonial, for instance - is entirely unclear. For the Japanese warrior to stride out of the mists of time, one must turn to the war tales of the Heian Period.
Heian-Kyo
In the year 794 ad the Japanese Imperial Court departed Nagaoka and transferred its seat to Heian-Kyo, or Tsuki no Miyako - the City of the Moon. The city had been laid out and built specifically to provide a new capital. Its builders, borrowing freely from Chinese conventions, had created an earthen-walled city three miles by three and a half miles, with straight streets intersecting to form no fewer then 1,200 blocks. The palace grounds, or daidairi, measured one mile by three quarters of a mile, and specific quarters were created to cater to merchants, nobility, and artisans. Japan had never seen a community like Heian-Kyo before and it is perhaps at this point that Japan as a state came into its own. At the same time, the Imperial shift to the new capital was in fact gradual, and could not be said to have been fully complete until a century or more had passed. Also shifting gradually was Japan's priorities, especially in the cultural field. Contact with China gradually petered off while native arts began to experience a state of great refinement, especially in literature. The great women writers of the later 10th century dominate the Heian Period's literary landscape, from the anonymous composer of the Kagero Nikki (the longest of the 'court diaries', ca. 975) to the famed 'Pillow Book' of Sei Shonagon and the monumental 'Tale of Genji' by Murasaki Shikubu. While reasonably well known outside Japan, the latter, composed around 1022, has yet to receive the recognition it deserves as possibly the world's 1st true novel. In most cultural pursuits -and in the realm of architecture- Chinese extravagance began to give way to a more thoughtful and conservative approach.
In the provinces, the movement towards imperial consolidation began to give way, out of a certain necessity, to the institution of shoen - estates which enjoyed a number of privileges, including varying degrees of tax exemption. Developed in the Nara Period and expanded in both scale and practice in the Heian Period, the granting of shoen allowed for the court to provide both individuals and institutions with a means of wealth in a country that lacked a real monetary system. In time, much of the imperial family's own income would be drawn from its own shoen (allowing for an increasingly comfortable lifestyle). This practice laid the framework for what would in time become the Japanese version of feudalism. 'Public' lands were known as kokugaryo and were administered by governors, often men of some ranking within either the court or religious community.
The Fujiwara
The Fujiwara clan continued to grow in strength until it had assumed a virtual monopoly on Heian politics. The manner in which this was accomplished was not through military force (or even the thinly-veiled threat of it) but rather a systematic implantation of marriage ties with the Imperial house. For a good two centuries, few emperors would have a mother of non-Fujiwara blood, even as this entailed the emperor commonly taking first cousins as consorts. The most successful of the Fujiwara, Michinaga (966-1027), had no fewer then four of his daughters married to emperors (with another marrying a prince who evidently suffered a breakdown before he could become emperor). The Fujiwara never made a bid for the throne itself, instead being content to act as regents and power brokers. Threats (real and potential) were identified and eliminated (often by means of exile) through the imperial apparatus and rarely through force of arms. By the time of Michinaga's death, a Fujiwara or close ally of the Fujiwara filled virtually every important civilian post within the government. At the same time, the Heian Period saw the growth of the practice of Insei, otherwise known as rule by 'cloistered' or retired emperors. Perhaps originally conceived as a way of keeping Fujiwara power in check, the strategy of retiring early and endeavoring to rule from 'behind the scenes' actually played into Fujiwara hands. At one point during the career of Fujiwara Kaneie (929-990) were no fewer then three retired emperors holding court, a situation that divided imperial authority and allowed Kaneie and his successor Michinaga to consolidate the Fujiwara hold on Kyoto.
This hold would finally be broken with the reigns of the emperors Go-Sanjo and Shirakawa. Go-Sanjo assumed the throne in 1068 at the age of 30, and it happened that his mother was not of Fujiwara blood. A heated dispute developed between the emperor and the steadily alienated Fujiwara over the issue of shôen (an area in which Go-Sanjo zealoulsy worked for reform). Faced with the danger that the Fujiwata would simply leave their court duties altoghether in protest, Go-Sanjo elected to continue his fight from behind the scenes. He retired in favor of his son Shirakawa in 1072 and was much freer to shape events now that he was unburdened of the many trappings of his former position. Unlike the former retired emperors who had spent their time living off the court's finances, Go-Sanjo stayed busy ruling through his son. While he was destined to die the following year, Go-Sanjo had established a precedent that Shirakawa would in time follow - this insei system essentially out-puppeteered the Fujiwara and assured that never again would that family hold the power it once had even as its vital role in running the goverment was left intact.
Buddhism in Heian Japan
Buddhism continued to grow during the Heian period, helped by an almost harmonious co-existence with the native Shinto religion and the acceptance of its teachings by the Court. Great religious complexes sprang up in the central provinces, aided by grants of shoen and other land rights. Chief among these was the Enryakuji on Mt. Hiei, to the northeast of the capital. Founded in 788 by the monk Saicho the Enryakuji grew throughout the Heian period to include thousands of buildings and to hold considerable influence as the vanguard of Tendai Buddhism. As the monastic complex grew, so did the willingness of its inhabitants to actively involve themselves in temporal affairs, or rather, to deal with issues in a very temporal manner. The early rivals of the Enryakuji included the older Nara temples, and, after the 10th Century, the Mii-dera temple. The latter came about as a result of a schism with the Tendai sect of Buddhism that saw a fair number of monks driven from Mt. Hiei and forced to establish their own place of worship. Outright battles between the Enryakuji and Mii-dera were common during the later Heian Period, and saw the later burned to the ground numerous times.
The famous warrior monks, or Sohei, of Mt. Hiei came about, it would seem, in an unexpected way.1 From its earliest times, the Enryakuji was held to be off limits to both women and law enforcement bodies. The latter prohibition attracted such a large criminal element to Mt. Hiei that Kakûjin (1012-81), the 35th abbot of the Enryakuji, called for his followers to form an army and drive away the undesirables. In fact, many of the men who took up arms may well have been those very same unwelcome fugitives they were intended to fight. From this time forward, Mt. Hiei would maintain a martial arm, one that it rarely hesitated to use. One frequent victim of the Enryakuji's heavy-handed tactics was none other then the emperor himself. As emperor Shirakawa is alleged to have said, "There are three things that even I cannot control: the waters of the Kamo river, the roll of the dice, and the monks of the mountain." When the monks of Mt. Hiei found themselves at odds with court over some affair (perhaps a question of land rights or taxation), they would gather and marcyh down at to the gates of Kyoto, bearing on their shoulders the sacred palanquin (mikoshi) of the Shinto deity Sanno. So revered was this artifact that no one dared block its passage and much more often then not the emperor would give in to the monk's demands. The warrior monks of the Enryakuji would continue to play an important role in the Kyoto area for hundreds of years, until the advent of Oda Nobunaga. While evidently not the first monastic complex to take on a military aspect, the Enryakuji's reputation was great indeed.
The other great Buddhist movement of the Heian period had been founded by the priest Kukai (774-835) and was called Shingon. Shingon (or True Word) was centered on the worship of Maha-Vairocana (or Great Illuminator, otherwise known as the Dainichi Nyorai), believed to be the first and greatest of the Buddhas. Shingon held that the Dainichi Nyori was present in all things in the universe and by extension was all people. Essentially, Kukai taught that to understand the Great illuminator, one needed to unlock the mysteries of their own minds and spirits. This involved a large amount of ceremony and ritual - hence earning Shingon the label of 'esoteric Buddhism'.
A third school of thought in Buddhism was to emerge at the tale end of the Heian Period. The monk Hônen (1133-1212), a former priest of the Enryakuji, founded what would become known as the Jodo, or Pure Land. Jodo popularized Amidism, a form of Buddhism the monk Genshin (942-1017) had written about and that centered on the worship of the Amida Buddha. The Amida resided in the Western Paradise and welcomed in all the faithful. No undo ceremony or spiritual honing was necessary for admittance to Paradise, only a honest belief in the Buddha and the reciting of his name in praise (the nembutsu). By the start of the Kamakura Period, Jôdo would have a strong following among the common people, for whom its straightforward approach appealed. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the established schools of Buddhism did not take kindly to Jôdo, and made very effort to limit its spread. Yet by the 15th and 16th centuries, Jôdo was to prove an exceptionally powerful force.
The Clans
The capital was perhaps not an exceedingly dangerous place for those notables of non-Fujiwara blood, but it could be a decided dead end. It is tempting, and not implausible, to imagine frustrated nobles departing for the wilds of the east, determined to make a name for themselves in the provinces. Those who left Heian-Kyo did so in the knowledge that they would never again be able to move casually in the 'world of the shining price'. As the Heian Period wore on, the divide in culture between those in the capital and those in the provinces would grow into a gulf.
The most famous of these clans (and by extension many later families) owed their existence to a bit of foresight on the part of the Emperor Temmu. Concerned that in time the Imperial house would grow to an unmanageable size and cost, Temmu declared that descendants of the emperors in the sixth generation were to be deprived of the rank of prince and instead receive a family name. This began to be observed in the time of Kammu (r.782-805) and provided the genesis of the Taira and Minamoto. The Taira (or Heike, or Heishi) were descended from Prince Katsurabara (the emperor Kammu's son), whose eldest son Takamune first took the name Taira. Katsurabara's second son, Takami, received permission to give the Taira name to his own son, Takamochi. Takamochi received the name in 889 on the authority of the emperor Uda and his son Kunika (d.935) settled in Hitachi province. It is primarily the line established by Takami's descendants that we will be encountering from this point onward.
The Minamoto (or Genji) were founded in a similar way but in their case, a total of four branches were established, each of which was named after the emperor from it was descended: the Saga-Genji, Murakami-Genji, Uda-Genji, and Seiwa-Genji. Of these four, the last could be considered the most important historically. Founded by the son of Prince Sadazumi (and therefore grandson of the emperor Seiwa), Tsunemoto (894-961), this branch took the name Minamoto in 961.
At this point, a common misconception should be noted. Contrary to what one might think, there was little unity of purpose amongst the various branches of the Taira and Minamoto. This is relevant in that the rise of the warrior house is sometimes attributed to the formation and growth of these two clans, which while true to some extent, is misleading. The names Taira and Minamoto were practically generic by the 11th Century, and numerous members of the two families formed their own offshoot families, often taking the name of the district in which they lived (the Ashikaga of Shimotsuke are a nice example). Furthermore, the court enjoyed a greater influence in the provinces then might be expected. One of the ways in which it affected this was the appointment of trusted men who became career governors. Most commonly drawn from the Minamoto and Taira families, these men were given successive appointments in various provinces, sometimes where a questionable element was thought to exist. As well as providing strong governors where needed, this strategy also assured that no Minamoto or Taira chieftain would be in one place long enough to form dangerously strong ties with his vassals there. As Jeffery Mass has pointed out, the various heads of the Minamoto and Taira were military-nobles, leaders whose ties were strong in both capital and province. Later events (those leading up to and following the Gempei War) do not weaken this view - rather, they substantiate them. The Heiji Distrubance of 1156, for instance, saw Minamoto and Taira allied on either side of the contest, and very much a part of Kyoto politics in general. Taira Kiyomori and Minamoto Yoritomo were able to achieve what they did largely as a result of the familiarity of their houses and the court, a point we will touch on again somewhat later.
The court had at one time moved to limit the potential power of the clans by decreeing that weapons were to be restricted to the Imperial military or otherwise regulated by the Ministry of Military Affairs (the Hyôbûsho). As conscription was abandoned in the early Heian Period, so was this decidedly half-hearted law. Just when one could really begin to refer to 'warrior houses', however, is a matter of great debate. The truth is that much of the development of the samurai is a matter of conjecture. We do see the term applied to palace guards in the 10th Century, but little can be drawn from that example beyond an affirmation of the 'one who serves' translation of the word. That the clans maintained some form of private army can be safely assumed, but to the extent that these were professional is most unclear, and likely the archetypal samurai of the 10th-13th Century was much like the later jizamurai - men of the land who counted military service as but one of their duties. Nonetheless, that a plentiful basis for the warrior tradition in Japan would be provided in the Heian Period goes without saying.
Early Exploits
In the year 935, a grandson of Taira Takamochi, Taira Masakado, petitioned the court for the respectable title of Kebiishi (Commissioner of Government Police). Masakado was something of a hothead, and according to the Konjaku Monogatari, was quick to resort to battle to resolve problems with his neighbors. Perhaps in view of this, the court refused Masakado the title he sought. Infuriated, he returned to his lands in the Kanto region and threw up the flag of rebellion, though perhaps not so much against the court as his local rivals. He killed his uncle Kunika and clashed with Taira Sadamori while attracting a number of neighboring landowners to his side. Emboldened by his successes and the lack of a reaction from Kyoto, Masakado went so far as to declare himself emperor, claiming a mandate to do so from the Sun Goddess herself. This proved a grave error, however, as it stiffened the opposition of his enemies and allowed the court to declare him a rebel. Loyalist forces under the command of Taira Sadamori and Fujiwara Hidesato first forced Masakado onto the defensive then defeated him at the Battle of Kojima in 940. In the course of the fighting Masakado was struck by an arrow in the head and was killed.
At around the same time the Minamoto clan gained some prestige by suppressing a formidable fleet of pirates commanded by Fujiwara Sumimoto that preyed on shipping in the Inland Sea between 936 and 941. Both Masakado and Sumimoto had presented the court with very real challenges, and both had failed due to the willingness of other chieftains to respect the wishes of the court and offer battle on the emperor's behalf. Those who rendered such services could hope for land grants and other rewards, and over the years certain families came to grow particularly powerful. Once such family was the Minamoto, whose capture of Fujiwara Sumimoto had earned them acclaim soon to be overshadowed by the endeavors of one of their most famous sons: Minamoto Yoshiie.
Hachiman Taro2
Minamoto Yoshiie, a man who came to embody the spirit of the samurai and a legend even in his own time, was the son of Minamoto Yoriyoshi. Yoriyoshi, the third generation of the Seiwa Genji, was a noted commander, and in 1051 was commissioned to defeat the rebellious Abe family of Dewa. The Abe had for years held prominent posts in this distant, forbidding region, and had come to enjoy a near autonomous existance. Like Taira Masakado, the Abe had been tasked with subduing the northern barbarians, and, from the Court's point of view and over time, become barbarians themselves.
Yoriyoshi's chief opponent was Abe Yoritoki, an unscrupulous character who died of an arrow wound in 1057. By this point in the so-called Former Nine-Years War, Yoriyoshi's son Yoshiie had joined the expedition. A promising young warrior, Yoshiie participated in the Battle of Kawasaki (later in 1057) against Yoritoki's heir Sadato. In a snowstorm, the Minamoto assaulted Sadato's stronghold at Kawasaki and were driven back; in the course of the hard-fought retreat Yoshiie distinguished himself and earned the nickname 'Hachimantaro', or 'First son (or First born) of the God of War (Hachiman)'. Abe Sadato comes across as an altogether more impressive man than his father, and proved a formidable foe even for Yoshiie and Yoriyoshi. Yet the Minamoto cause was much assisted by the enlistment of Kiyowara Noritake, a locally powerful figure whose rugged northern men swelled Yoriyoshi's ranks.
In 1057 the fighting culminated in a series of actions that further enhanced Yoshiie's reputation. Sadato had attacked the Minamoto troops but suffering a reverse retreated into a fort by the Koromo River. Yoriyoshi ordered a spirit assault on the fort, which Sadato was forced to flee. During the chaotic retreat, Yoshiie was supposed to have chased Sadato and had an impromptu renga (linked verse) session with his enemy from horseback, afterwards allowing him to escape, as related in the Mutsu Waki…
'Yoriyoshi's first son, Hachiman Taro, gave hot pursuit along the Koromo River and called out, "Sir, you show your back to your enemy! Aren't you ashamed? Turn around a minute, I have something to tell you." When Sadato turned around, Yoshiie said:
Koromo no tate wa hokorobinikeri
Koromo Castle has been destroyed. [The warps in your robe have come undone]
Sadato relaxed his reins somewhat and, turning his helmeted head, followed that with:
toshi o heishi ito no midare no kurushisa ni
over the years its threads became tangled, and this pains me
Hearing this, Yoshiie put away the arrow he had readied to shoot, and returned to his camp. In the midst of such a savage battle, that was a gentlemanly thing to do. 3
The likelihood that this incident actually occurred is probably nil but it made Yoshiie seem all the more colorful, and gave him an opponent worthy in both warfare and culture. Tales like these laid the groundwork for the samurai mystique, and provided young warriors with ready-made role models and measures against which to test their own prowess and bravery.
Yoshiie may have spared his noble opponent, but the war was nearly over. Sadato continued his flight until he reached one of his remaining forts, this one on the Kuriyagawa, and prepared for another stand. The government troops arrived and after a few days of fighting brought the fort down. Sadato and his son died, and his brother Muneto was captured. Yoshiie gave thanks to his (nick)namesake by establishing the Tsurugaoka Hachiman shrine near Kamakura on the way back to Kyoto. Yoriyoshi was awarded the governorship of Iyo for his services against the Abe while Yoshiie was named Governor of Mutsu. Interestingly, Abe Muneto was released into the custody of the Minamoto and lived in Iyo, becoming a companion of Yoshiie's.
In 1083 Yoshiie was commissioned by the Court to subdue another rebel, this time against the same Kiyowara family who had assisted the Minamoto in the previous war. After the Abe's defeat, the Kiyowara had been elevated and filled the power vacuum in the north. A power struggle had broken out among various family members, and in the end Yoshiie was sent to quell the disturbance. The conflict became known as the Later Three-Year War and culminated, after a setback at Numu (1086), in the Battle of Kanazawa. In an incident that became a famous military anecdote, Yoshiie's men were advancing to contact when a flock of birds began to settle in a certain spot then abruptly flew off. Yoshiie suspected an ambush and had the place surrounded, sure enough revealing the enemy army. Yoshiie went on to reduce Kanazawa through siege and the Later Three-Year War drew to a close. The Court was pleased that the Kiyowara had been suppressed, but viewed the conflict as outside the Court's responsibility, as technically Yoshiie had not been commissioned by the emperor to fight. This meant that no rewards would be distributed to Yoshiie's men, an unfortunate situation Yoshiie remedied by paying them himself with his own lands. This action greatly enhanced Yoshiie's reputation and also secured lasting bonds of loyalty for the Minamoto in the Kanto region, bonds that would pay dividends in the following century.
Stinginess aside, the aristocracy held Yoshiie in near-awe, and Fujiwara Munetada dubbed him 'The Samurai of the greatest bravery under heaven.' At the same time, the Court kept Yoshiie at arm's length. It did go so far as permitting Yoshiie to visit the Imperial Court in 1098; a rare honor that by it's very rareness indicates the widening gulf between the Court and provincial houses. This alienation would in the end contribute to the eclipse of Imperial authority by the samurai in the later 12th Century.
The Rise of the Taira
Perhaps as a result of Taira Masakado's belligerence or simply through the whims of fortune, the Taira family had not achieved the same fame as had the Minamoto. This began to change during the career of Taira Tadamori (1096-1153). His father, Taira Masamori, had been a particularly successful 'career-governor', acting as headman to no fewer then nine provinces over the course of his life. Tadamori would not match that record, but did become close to retired emperor Shirakawa, and as a result received the title of kebiishi and the governorship of Bizen, Harima, and Ise. He earned the gratitude of the court by suppressing Inland Sea pirates, and gradually the Taira's power base shifted to the western provinces. Tadamori received a favored concubine from his Imperial patron, and nine months later she gave birth to a child who would come to be known as Taira Kiyomori (1115-1181). He became a commander of palace guards in the capital and in 1146 the governor of Aki province, in the meantime earning a reputation for decisiveness. In one celebrated (and possibly apocryphal) event in 1146, one of his men insulted the head priest of Kyoto's Gion Shrine, prompting a large group of warrior monks to march on the city and demand Kiyomori's chastisement. Kiyomori rode out and to the shock of all present, shot an arrow into their mikoshi, a decided act of sacrilege that did have the effect of scattering the monks.
Tadanori died in 1153 and was succeded by Kiyomori, who was to advance his family's fortunes considerably by backing the right horse during the Hôgen Disturbance (Hôgen no ran) of 1156. Trouble had been brewing in the court since 1141. In that year, the retired emperor Toba forced his eldest son, the Emperor Sutoku (r.1123-1441), to abdicate in favor of a two-year old (borne by a favorite consort) to be known as Konoe. Konoe died in 1155, but Toba, rather then sponsoring Sotoku's son as successor, insisted that a half-brother be placed on the throne. Much to Sutoku's chagrin, Go-Shirakawa took the throne in November of 1155. Lines began to be drawn between Sutoku and Go-Shirakawa, a situation enflamed by a bitter feud that divided the Fujiwara family. Toba died in August of 1156 and events began to move quickly, though Sutoku was gripped by a hesitation that would prove fatal for his cause.
The Taira and Minamoto were both to be divided in the conflict. Kiyomori threw in with Go-Shirakawa, while his uncle Tadamasa took up Sutoku's cause. Minamoto Yoshitomo joined with Kiyomori even as his own uncle Tameyoshi and brother Tametomo joined Sutoku. The warrior monks of Mt. Hiei gave their nominal support to Sutoku, but could not be counted on. Yoshitomo suggested a sudden and decisive night raid on Sutoku's compound, the Shirakawa-den, a strategy that his brother Tametomo had actually urged Sutoku to authorize against Go-Shirakawa. Unlike his half-brother, Go-Shirakawa gave permission for the attack to proceed and in a violent action that left the Shirakawa-den in flames, Sutoku's side was crushed. Master archer Tametomo distinguished himself with great acts of bravery, and was afterwards spared, though at the cost, we are told, of the tendons in his firing arm. Sutoku was sent into exile to Sanuki Province, where he later died at the age of 64. Kiyomori and Yoshitomo were not so lenient towards their own uncles, whom they had executed.
The Hôgen Disturbace left Kiyomori in a strong position, and the following year he was made the head of the Daifuzu on Kyushu, a post once considered a dead-end but now a chance for Kiyomori to consolidate his hold on the western provinces. He actually remains a popular figure in western Japan, remembered for his economic initiatives and his patronage of the Itskushima Shrine on Miyajima. Thanks to his friendship with Go-Shirakawa's chief councilor Fujiwara Michinori (Shinzei), Kiyomori's influence at court and prestige continued to grow - much to Minamoto Yoshitomo's dismay. Yoshitomo had not been as fortunate in the wake of the Hogen Disturbance, and he became jealous of his erstwhile ally. He made an alliance with a certain Fujiwara Nobuyuki, a rival of Michinori, and together they plotted to depose their respective opponents. By this point, Go-Shirakawa had retired in favor of his son Nijô, and as the latter was also fond of Kiyomori, the conspirators were careful to wait for just the right opportunity to move.
Yoshitomo's chance came in January of 1160. Kiyomori had recently departed the capital to make a pilgrimage to Kumano and in his absence Yoshitomo seized both Go-Shirakawa and Nijô. Fujiwara Michinori suffered the burning of his mansion and was forced to commit suicide in an attempt to reach Kiyomori. In the afterglow of their success, Yoshitomo and Nobuyuki granted themselves titles and rewards-only to reap the consequences of their actions. Kiyomori rushed back to capital and with the able assistance of his son Shigemori made his way to his mansion at Rokuhara. Even as the two plotted some counter-attack, both Nijô and Shirakawa were rescued and brought under Taira protection, leaving Kiyomori a free hand in his planning. The Minamoto headquarters were assaulted, and after a stiff battle Yoshitomo was forced to flee the capital and headed eastward. He made it as far as Owari province before being murdered in his bath by Taira supporters even as three of his sons fell into Kiyomori's hands. These were Yoritomo, Noriyori, and Yoshitsune, all of whom Kiyomori spared and sent to the eastern provinces. This act of benevolence would later be bitterly regretted by the Taira. To the other members of the conspiracy, little compassion was shown. Yoshitomo's rashness had seen the Minamoto clan stripped of many of its most prestigious chieftains and the Taira left virtually unchallengeable.
With a now doubly grateful Go-Shirakawa and Nijô restored to their places in Kyoto, Kiyomori's influence continued to grow. That same year he received a court title (the Senior Third Rank) and in 1167 was granted the title of dajodaijin, or Grand Minister of State-the highest rank bestowed on a subject by the Emperor. Popular history has traditionally painted Kiyomori as a cruel military dictator, who relegated his imperial patrons to the role of mere puppets. In fact, at least initially, Kiyomori and Go-Shirakawa may have acted more as partners then puppet-puppeteer, and Kiyomori's military strength does not justify the picture of a warrior usurping the throne. Like so much of Japanese history, the relationship of the court and clan (be that warrior or otherwise) defies easy explanation or quantification.
Needless to say, Kiyomori was not without an enormous ambition, and as the years passed, his relationship with Go-Shirakawa proceeded to turn sour. The Taira clan began to resemble the Fujiwara in its rampant nepotism, and it is perhaps only now that we can begin to describe either 'Taira' or 'Minamoto' as inclusive units. Stung and shamed by the events of the Heiji Disturbance, the Minamoto went dormant for the next twenty years. In that time, the three sons that Kiyomori had spared came of age. The stage for the Gampei war was set.
The term sohei was in fact not a contemporary term, and many of the accepted assumptions regarding the activities of the so-called warrior monks are now being challanged. For what promises to be an illuminating look at the secular powers held by religous institutions in medieval Japan, see the forthcoming work by Prof. Mikael S. Adolphson - "The Gates of Power' (Hawaii, to be published in December).
Gampei war
I n May 1180 Prince Mochihito, the son of Retired emperor Go-Shirakawa, issued a statement urging the Minamoto to rise against the Taira. While Mochihito would be killed in June and Minamoto Yorimasa crushed at the Battle of the Uji, a fire had been set. In September Minamoto Yoritomo, who had recieved Mochihito's call from Miyoshi Yasukiyo, set about raising an army in the Province of Izu, where he had been in exile. There was an irony in the preceeding events, as Taira Kiyomori had himself sown the seeds of the war, so the poetic tale goes. His great error, we are told, had been to spare the sons of Minamoto Yoshitomo in the wake of the Heiji disturbance, allowing these three boys - Yoritomo, Noriyori, and Yoshitsune - to mature and form the leadership of a new and dangerous threat.
In fact, Yoritomo's own call to arms in the east was recieved cautiously at best. He did manage to kill the local Taira governor, but was defeated at the Battle of Ishibashiyama by Oba Kagechika. In the wake of this hard setback, however, Yoritomo did recieve the valuable additon of Kajiwara Kagetoki to his staff. Elsewhere in the Kanto, local families began to respond to Yoritomo in varying degrees and in Shimosa and elsewhere set about eliminating Kyoto-appointed officals. This often provoked inter-province and occasionally inter-clan civil war, a common and oft-overlooked element of the Gempei War. By the Spring of the following year, Yoritomo could count on at least the tacit support of most of the notable families in the Kanto, although the Chubu, though by now nominally Minamoto dominated, existed beyond his immediate control. Yoritomo's Kanto domain is occasionally referred to as the Tôgaku, and rather then surge forward against the Taira, he contented himself for the time being with consolidating his hold locally.
The Taira response to the violence was mixed and uncertain. Kiyomori dispatched his grandson Koremori with an army eastward, but he turned back at the Fuji River in Suruga Province. Closer to home, Taira Tomomori - who would prove the most able of the Taira - had defeated the combined forces of old Minamoto Yorimasa and the warrior monks of the Miidera at the Uji River in late June. To punish the monks for their involvement thus far in the fledgling conflict, Kiyomori ordered the Miidera burned and, a few months later, a number of temples in Nara as well. While all of this was going on, Kiyomori had made the surprising decision to move the Imperial seat to Fukuhara (to the west of Kyoto) in June. His motivations for this abortive upheaval are unclear, but by the end of the year, the emperor was back in Kyoto. In truth, the Taira seem to have settled on a containment policy as regarded Yoritomo, and made little effort following the 'Battle' of Fujigawa to reassert their control in the Kanto. They did have their hands full with other local warriors rising up, men who used the Minamoto name as a pretext for land grabs and the settling of old disputes.
In the middle of 1181, Yoritomo made a surprising offer to the Taira that called for the partition of the country between the two families, with Yoritomo taking the eastern half of the country. Despite some favorable murmers from the Court, the Taira dismissed the notion out of hand. Yoritomo's offer is in any event an odd one. He had, after all, been operating quite without concern for Kyoto since the previous summer and was at this point more or less immune to a direct Taira attack. It may well be then, as some scholars have suggested, that Yoritomo was hoping to head off the threat represented by Minamoto (Kiso) Yoshinaka. Also known as Kiso Yoshinaka (from the area of Shinano he hailed from), this rough and tumble warrior was to prove an immediate threat to the Taira - and to Yoritomo's claims of Minamoto leadership.
Somewhat earlier, Yoritomo's uncle Yukiie had taken the field and was to suffer defeat at the hands of Taira Tomomori at the Battle of Sunomata in Mino Province (March 1181). Yukkie survived this setback and would henceforth work in conjunction with Yoshinaka, who was in a better position then Yoritomo to challange the Taira directly.
In February 1181 Taira Kiyomori fell ill and died, leaving his son Munemori to rule. Later that year nature would impose a forced truce over the combatants as a poor harvest brought starvation and disease. This would last into 1183, although Yoshinaka would make some local moves in 1182. As soon as the situation improved enough for military manuevers, Munemori ordered a campaign to defeat Yoshinaka, who due to his location was more worrisome even then Yoritomo. A host departed from Kyoto in May, and in Kaga Province split up. One force, under Tomomori, would advance to the north and swing through Noto Province. The other, larger force, led by Taira Koremori, would advance due east towards Etchû Province. Yoshinaka managed to ambush the latter force at Kurikawa and engineered a rout of the Taira warriors. He followed up this stroke with a further victory at Shinohara, then marched on the Capital. With his warriors demoralized and in disarray, a shaken Munemori ordered an evacuation of Kyoto in he face of Yoshinaka's advance. Taking the child-emperor Antoku, Munemori departed for the Taira's western domain. On 17 August 1183 Yoshinaka and Yukiie entered the Capital with retired Emperor Go-Shirakawa.
Soon after taking up in Kyoto, Yoshinaka began making noises that he ought to be considered the overall leader of the Minamoto, a status which would if nothing else garner him a considerable amount of prestige with the clans that had risen in the Minamoto's name. Yoshinaka, however, quickly wore out his welcome in Kyoto thanks to the behavior of his men in the capital and his officers in other provinces, a situation probably not improved by his now-sluggish execution of the war with the Taira. He did dispatch one of his generals westward with the task of reducing Yashima, the Taira headquarters on Shikoku, an endeavor that resulted in a brisk Minamoto defeat at Mizushima. Yukiie attempted to recoup the loss (and an evident falling-out with Yoshinaka) by leading an army against Taira forces at Muroyama in Harima Province. This contest ended as a further Minamoto failure, with Yukiie barely escaping with his life.
Yoritomo had recieved the news of Yoshinaka's presumption with no small amount of anger. Yet, rather then rush westward to press his own claim, he had bided his time and sought to reach an agreement with Go-Shirakawa himself. Once he was evidently confident of Court support, he made his move. To lead his army, he dispatched his younger brothers, Noriyori and Yoshitsune - with this campaign being the first real occasion in which they come into the light of history. At some point in 1180 Yoritomo, Noriyori, and Yoshitsune had been reunited, probably for the first time since their separation in 1160. The exact activities of the latter two drift into the unknown again until February 1184, when they marched west. Yoshitsune, who by now had been given the rank Sô-daisho (general of the army), led an army that included Noriyori and Kajiwara Kagetoki into the Kyoto area. Yoshinaka, learning of the new threat, hastily dispatched an army to cover the two main eastern doorways to Kyoto - the Uji and Seta bridges. The attacking army split into two parts, with Yoshitsune heading for the Uji Bridge while Noriyori made a crossing upriver at the Seta Bridge. Crossings were successful at both points and Yoshinaka’s men lost heart and fled. When Yoshinaka heard of the defeat he abandoned Kyoto and attempted to escape the area with a handful of retainers, including Japan’s only famous example of a true female samurai warrior - Tomoe Gozen. He was soon cornered at Awazu and committed suicide.
Ichi no tani and the advance west
With Yoshinaka out of the way, Yoritomo secured the support of Go-Shirakawa and a mandate to press the war with the Taira. On 13 March Yoshitsune and Noriyori were given permission to set out for the Western provinces and moved into Settsu Province, the eastern doorway to the Setô Inland Sea. Yoshitsune’s first objective was the Taira outpost at Ichi no Tani, a well-positioned fortification that was covered from the rear by a steep incline. This was where the Taira had fled following their retreat from Kyoto and could be used as a staging area for any future attempts to return to the capital.
Ichi no tani was screened by a number of outposts that included Mikusuyama to the north and Ikuta no mori to the west. These would have to be reduced first before Ichi no tani itself could be attacked.
Yoshitsune was to lead a force of some 10,000 men around to the north of Ichi no tani and come out for an attack from the west while 50,000 or so (according to the war tales) under Noriyori would strike from the east. On 18 March Yoshitsune approached Mikusayama. Fearing that the Taira would hastily reinforce this important position, Yoshitsune launched an immediate night attack that brought the fort down. According to the Heike Monogatari the surviving defenders, including three of Taira Kiyomori’s grandsons, fled to the coast and passed over to Shikoku, leaving 500 dead. Yoshitsune then sent 7,000 men under Doi Sanehira down to the western side of Ichi no tani while he led the remaining 3,000 men under his command to the top of the cliffs overlooking the fort. Meanwhile, Noriyori had begun an attack on the forward Taira positions at Ikuta no mori, commanded by Taira Tomomori. While Doi began to trade blows with the Taira below, Yoshitsune called for a man who might know a way down to the rear of the castle and the monk Benkei furnished a guide. With the Taira’s attentions fully diverted by Doi and Noriyori, Yoshitsune led his men in a hair-raising ride down the incline and into the rear of the fort. Stunned by the accomplishment of what they had assumed was impossible, the Taira were thrown into a panic, their morale was shattered by Yoshitsune’s feat. Taking the boy-emperor Antoku the Taira commanders made for their ships, which were anchored just off shore. The boats quickly reached capacity and set sail, leaving more then a few Taira warriors behind to fight and die in the surf (including the tragic Taira Atsumori).
The Minamoto victory at Ichi no tani cleared the way for an assault on Yashima, the Taira headquarters on Shikoku. Yoritomo elected to adopt a cautious approach, however, and reined in his two hard-fighting younger brothers. The next six months were spent consolidating the gains already made and sorting out the many families who had thus far supported or opposed the Minamoto. Already, Yoritimo was assuming a rather hegemonic posture based on an agreement reached by the court and the Minamoto in November 1583. This understanding, formalized in an edic which has been lost to history, essentially acknowledged Yoritomo's control over those lands which he had already captured while calling for the restoration of Kyoto proprietorships in those regions with Yoritomo's assistance. The fact that Yoritomo was already the indisputed master of the Kanto is an important point when judging the arguement that this marked the actual 'birth' of the Kamakura bakufu. At any rate, Yoritomo clearly decided to use this Imperial sanction for all it was worth, to the point of making grants of land that were outside his actual control.
Immediately after Ichi no tani, Yoshitsune and Noriyori returned to Kyoto and paraded the notable Taira heads taken through the streets. In October, a month before the edict mentioned above was issued, Noriyori was dispatched to destroy Taira adherents on Kyushu and began a long and tiring march through the western provinces. Yoshitsune stayed in Kyoto and apparently acted as Yoritomo’s deputy there into early 1185. Officially, Yoshitsune was responsible for issuing decrees ordering the termination of any violence within Minamoto territory. In practice his directives covered various other issues, including the forbidding of drafts and war taxes without the express consent of the Minamoto leadership. This is a good point to mention that the brush fire and often local nature of the Gempei War was not easy to extinguish; Yoritomo would bring the houses of the Chubu into line only with some difficulty.
It was during Yoshitsune's tenure in Kyoto that the first rifts would develop between himself and his elder brother. Yoritomo is said to have denied Yoshitsune court titles granted Noriyori and to have become angry when the court went ahead and approved them anyway. It may be that this was simply a matter of Yoritomo wanting his deputy to stay outside any court influence but it seems likely that the stage was set for what would transpire after the end of the Gempei War.
Under clear skies on 8 October Noriyori had departed for the west with 30,000 men. Once in Harima, he received word of Taira activities at the port of Kojima in Bizen and hastily made for the area. Kojima was a small island separated from the mainland by a thin strip of seawater that was nonetheless daunting enough to check Noriyori’s advance. Stymied by a lack of boats to cross to the island, Noriyori was at a loss until a certain Sasaki Moritsuna found a fisherman who would reveal a spot shallow enough to allow for a crossing. By way of sharing this knowledge with the Minamoto army, Sasaki actually rode across to the island, thereby making sure it was he would was the first to set foot on Kojima!
Noriyori led a spirited charge through the seawater and forced the Taira to take to their ships. Taira Sukemori, Arimori, and Tadafusa lingered until dark trading arrows with the Minamoto before setting their oars in motion and departing for Shikoku. With no ships to use in pursuit, Noriyori could only resume his westward march. Little is known or can be said about Noriyori’s activities for the remainder of the year, although the Heike Monogatari states rather caustically that he settled down and engaged in amusements at the expense of the local people. More likely, logistical difficulties bogged down the campaign and in the end forced Noriyori to suspend the advance into the New Year.
Yashima
By January 1185 Noriyori was reporting that as he had no boats and few provisions, he was unable to prosecute his mission to Kyushu. He reached as far as the Shimonoseki Straight (that separated Honshu and Kyushu) before being forced to sit idly, and his requests for shipping yielded no definitive reply from Yoritomo. Disquiet began to swell in the ranks and Noriyori feared desertion; luckily, word came that a number of sea-faring samurai from Kyushu desired to join the Minamoto cause. These two, Ogata Koresaka and his brother Jirô Koretaka of Bungo, came across with some 82 vessels and finally, in February, Noriyori’s weary and demoralized army landed on Kyushu.
In March 1185, with Noriyori preparing to invade Kyushu, Yoshitsune was authorized to return to the war. Intending to launch an assault on Yashima, he assembled a fleet of ships at Watanabe (Settsu province). During the preparations he argued with Kajiwara Kagetoki, one of his elder bother’s closest retainers, about strategy, an incident which may very well have come back to haunt Yoshitsune later. On the stormy night of 22 March Yoshitsune decided the time was right to sail, and ordered his men to board ship. Observing that the weather was extremely bad the sailors refused to put to sea, and did so only after Yoshitsune threatened to kill any man who disobeyed his orders. Even still, not all of the ships followed Yoshitsune into the night. Unperturbed, Yoshitsune landed on Shikoku at dawn and set out for Yashima, some thirty miles distant. He learned from a local warrior that despite the importance of the fort, the Taira’s garrison at Yashima was presently reduced owing to an expedition into Iyo, a welcome piece of news that prompted him onward.
At the time, Yashima was separated from the mainland by a narrow channel easily fordable by horse when the tide was low. The Taira base was situated on the beach facing the mainland, with their fleet moored within easy reach in the shallows directly in front. Alerted to Yoshitsune’s approach by fires set in nearby Takamatsu and fearing that a much larger than Yoshitsune actually had was on its way, Taira Munemori ordered an immediate evacuation of the fort and fled to the ships with the emperor Antoku. Yoshitsune led his men into a headlong charge into the channel and a fight ensued around the ships while a certain Minamoto worthy named Gotobyôe Sanemoto set the fort on fire. By the time Munemori realized how few men Yoshitsune had, the fort was in flames. The fighting thus continued in the shallows until the coming of dusk forced a lull, at which point the Taira moved out beyond the reach of the Minamoto’s arrows. In a celebrated incident, the Taira, hoping to make their enemy waste arrows, hoisted up a fan on one of their ships and challenged the Minamoto to test their archery skill on it. A certain Nasu Munetaka, a young and diminutive warrior known for his skill with a bow, was summoned and Yoshitsune ordered him to make a try at the fan. Determined to hit the fan or commit suicide if he failed, Nasu rode out into the water and loosed a humming arrow, shattering the fan - much to the delight, we are told, of Minamoto and Taira alike.
Dan no ura
The morning after the attack on Yashima, the Taira set sail for nearby Shido harbor while Yoshitsune pursued on shore. According to the Heike Monogatari, the Taira grossly overestimated the number of troops the Minamoto had on Shikoku and ended up fleeing the island completely. They regrouped at Hikoshima in Nagato while Yoshitsune, after viewing the heads of those taken, crossed over to Suo province and prepared for what must certainly be the final battle of the war. Inspired by Yoshitsune’s victories, some last minute supporters arrived on the scene, strengthening Yoshitsune’s numbers in men and - more importantly - ships.
In the Taira camp, there was a sense of resignation. There would be no further avenues of retreat should the coming battle go against them, and their earlier defeats no doubt sat havily on their shoulders. According to the Heike Monogatari , Taira Tomomori rallied his comrades with a brief yet rousing call to fight to the last. Privatly, he urged Munemori to do away with a certain Taguchi Shigeyoshi, a general from Shikoku whose loyalty Tomomori questioned. Munemori ignored this advice.
At dawn on 24 April 1185 the Minamoto put to sea and sailed against the waiting Taira at a place that became famous in Japanese history as Dan no ura. Yoshitsune outnumbered his quarry in ships by almost two to one (850-500) but the Taira promised to fight fiercely, and with Tomomori leading them from the front, they did just that. By eight the battle had begun, with the tide flowing in the Taira’s favor. The Taira had divided into three groups, with a fine archer named Yamaga Hidetô commanding the van. His bowmen did bloody work against the Minamoto warriors crammed in their boats until the opposing flotillas joined and the fighting became one of sword and spear. The Taira fought well and the issue was very much in doubt until, just as Tomomori had feared, Taguchi Shigeyoshi switched sides. Taguchi made his way to Yoshitsune’s boat and pointed out the ship that sheltered the emperor. Armed with this knowledge and a favorable shift in the tides against the Taira, Yoshitsune rallied his samurai and shouted for his archers to take aim at the enemy sailors. The tide of the battle paused, shook, and then turned against the Taira. The emperor and his mother, Taira Kiyomori’s widow, stepped into the ocean and drowned, followed by Tomomori and hundreds of other Taira warriors. The hapless Munemori was fished out of the ocean by the Minamoto (having been put there by a Taira warrior disgusted at his hesitation to die) and captured and by early afternoon Yoshitsune’s triumph was complete. The Taira clan was all but eradicated as a threat to Minamoto power and in 1192 Yoritomo would be granted the title of Shôgun.
The Gempei War Reassessed
While a serious examination of the social aspects of the Gempei War is beyond the scope of this short piece, certain points must be made. The noted and astute western scholar Jeffrey P. Mass wrote, "…by inventing the compound Gempei (Genji vs. Heishi, or Minamoto vs. Taira), which might then be applied retrospectively to the fighting of 1180-85, some unknown writer or storyteller greatly simplified a more complex (and actually more significant) phenomenon." While traditionally viewed as a straight-forward fight to the death between two old rivals, the Gempei War was in fact a rather convoluted affair made all the more so for historians by a relative lack of historical documentation. The Taira and Minamoto dominate the Heike Monogatari, for example, and yet we know that much of the fighting was of a local and often opportunistic nature. The Taira themselves remain something of a mystery, especially as far as their organization is concerned. The composition of the Taira during the war years, and to what extent 'Taira' opposition to the Minamoto was composed of local and even unrelated houses, is unclear. The activities of the Minamoto between 1160 and 1180 are also by and large a mystery. That normally invaluable contemporary record, the Azuma kagami, is frustratingly silent on the Taira, as well as the Minamoto prior to 1180. The situation is not helped by a nearly complete lack of edicts issued by the Taira, leading some to question whether the Taira were ever confident enough of their position in Kyoto to issue any at all in their own name.
The course of the war itself is hazy at times, largely due to the old adage that 'victors write the history books', and holes in the historical record. We have no way of really knowing just how much of the Heike Monogatari, whose account of the Gempei War has long been taken almost word by word by western 'samurai' authors, is made from whole cloth insofar as its account of the actual battles is concerned. Clearly, the work simplified even the purely military events of the time and there can be no doubt that figures such as Minamoto Yoshitsune (and the earlier Taira Shigemori) were inflated to a degree for the benefit of the audience. In a sense, the specifics of the Gempei War - the battles, armies, and tactics - were secondary to the political arena. The only truly decisive battle, from a 'war-winning' standpoint, was Kurikawa. The famous fights at Ichi no Tani, Yashima, and Dan no Ura were 'nails in the coffin', conducted while Yoritomo himself was busy consolidating his hold over Minamoto occupied Japan. One might even argue daringly that Dan no Ura, which looms so large in Japanese history, was essentially a 'mopping up' operation given legendary and almost Homeric (for lack of a better word) dimensions by the Heike Monogatari's prose. Any one of the three battles mentioned probably paled in significance to the 1184 Court-Minamoto agreement that, if nothing else, paved the way for the Kamakura Bakufu.
In the final analysis, many of our questions about the Gempei War - and the years preceding it - will never be conclusively answered due to a simple lack of full historical documentation. At the same time, the 20th Century saw a long-overdue reevaluation of the events leading up to the foundation of the Kamakura Bakufu.
NOTED SAMURAI
Oda Nobunaga
1534 - 1582

The Oda of Owari
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Oda Nobunaga, as played by Ogata Naoto, in the NHK Taiga Drama 'Nobunaga, King of Zipangu'.
Nobunaga was born Oda Kippôshi, the second son of Oda Nobuhide (1508? -1549), a minor lord whose family once served the Shiba shugo. Nobuhide was a skilled warrior, and spent much of his time fighting the samurai of Mikawa and Mino. He also had enemies closer to home - the Oda were divided into two separate camps, with both vying for control of Owari's eight districts. Nobuhide's branch, of which he was one of three elders, was based at Kiyosu castle. The rival branch was to the north, in Iwakura Castle.
Many of Nobuhide's battles were fought in Mikawa, against the Matsudaira and the Imagawa clan. The latter were old and prestigious, rulers of Suruga and overlords of Tôtômi. The Matsudaira were as obscure as the Oda, and while not as splintered politically, they were slowly coming under the Imagawa's influence. The decade leading up to 1548 was dominated along the Mikawa-Owari border by the contention of three men - Oda Nobuhide, Matsudaira Hirotada, and Imagawa Yoshimoto. In 1542, Imagawa, supported by the Matsudaira, marched as far west as the Owari border, and was met by Oda Nobuhide and his younger brother Tsuda Nobumitsu at Azukizaka. In this bitter fight, the Oda emerged victorious, but not decisively. In 1548 Nobuhide attempted to arrange the defection of a certain Matsudaira Tadamoto of Mikawa away from Hirotada. Tadamoto, however, ended up being killed in the attempt, and Oda launched an attack on Okazaki, evidently to make up for the disappointment. Matsudaira Hirotada thus found himself in difficult straights, and called on Imagawa for assistance. Yoshimoto replied that he would be happy to help - so long as Hirotada was willing to send along his young son as a hostage. Hirotada had little choice, and shipped off 6-year old Takechiyo (the future Tokugawa Ieyasu) westward. En-route to Suruga, unfortunately, Oda loyalists intercepted the hostage party and made off with Takechiyo, taking the child to Nobuhide. Nobuhide immediately made use of his new card and demanded that Hirotada give up Okazaki in return for his son's life. Hirotada wisely refused, and Nobuhide, his bluff called, did no harm to the boy. Later in 1548, Imagawa and Oda met again in battle, and this time the Imagawa came out the winner. The following year Nobuhide died, leaving an Oda clan divided in every possible way.
Anxious to capitalize on the death of his rival, Imagawa Yoshimoto sent his uncle, the talented monk-general Sessai Choro, to attack Nobuhide's heir, Nobuhiro. Sessai besieged Nobuhiro in Anjo Castle, and sent word to Nobunaga that unless he wished to see his elder brother made to commit suicide, he would have to send back Takechiyo. Nobunaga could hardly refuse, and so Takechiyo ended up in Suruga, even though his father Hirotada had passed away that same year.
The progress of the next three years is hazy. By 1551, however, Nobunaga was the leader of his faction of the Oda and master of Kiyosu. His principal enemy (beyond his own family) was his father's nemesis, the Imagawa. Nobunaga's northern borders (not counting the area of Mino controlled by the Iwakura Oda) were more or less secured, at least: before his death, Nobuhide had arranged for the marriage of Nobunaga to Saitô Dosan's daughter. Saitô Toshimasa (Dosan) (1494-1556) was a colorful figure, a former oil-merchant (if tradition is to be believed) who supplanted the Tôki family of Mino.
Pausing for a moment, we see the young Nobunaga. He is estimated to have stood between 5'3" and 5'6" tall, and was a clear speaker with a strong prescence about him. He was considered a not unhandsome man, with a somewhat prominant nose and scarce beard. As a young man, Nobunaga was said to have been a brash and altogether rude fellow whose behavior often bordered on the disgraceful. Supposedly, he even acted out as his father's funeral was being conducted at the Bansyô-ji. This popular view of Nobunaga's early days is in part substantiated by the suicide of Hirate Kiyohide (1493-1553), one of Nobuhide's old retainers tasked with helping Nobunaga rule. Hirate committed what was called kanshi, or remonstration through suicide. The old samurai wrote up a letter urging Nobunaga to change his ways and then slit his belly. His death is said to have had a dramatic effect on Nobunaga. He did mend his ways, and in time built the Seisyu-ji in Owari to honor his loyal retainer.
By 1558, Nobunaga had largely managed to unify his family, although he suffered the rebellion of two brothers in so doing. In 1556, Nobuhiro, his elder brother, had plotted with the new (and hostile) lord of Mino, Saitô Yoshitatsu, an act Nobunaga pardoned him for. The following year, his younger brother Nobuyuki conspired with Shibata Katsuie and Hayashi Michikatsu and, if the legend is true, Nobunaga's own mother. Nobunaga learned of the treason and had Nobuyuki killed. Shibata and Hayashi, on the other hand, were spared - perhaps sending a powerful message to any other members of the Oda family who were thinking treacherous thoughts.
As just noted, Saitô Yoshitatsu was the new lord of Mino, having killed Dôsan at the Battle of Nagaragawa (1556), and he was no friend to the Oda. The Oda's forts in Mino were quickly reduced, and Nobunaga's attempts to make in-roads in that province were turned back. At the same time, Imagawa Yoshimoto was knocking on Owari's southeastern door, having all but absorbed Mikawa and the Matsudaira clan. Imagawa's army had lost some of it's potency with the death of Sessai Choro in 1555 but Yoshimoto could call on the services of a young and skillful ally - Matsudaira Motoyasu, a man whose fate would prove inter-twined with that of Nobunaga. In 1558, Motoyasu fought his first battle - at Nobunaga's expense. Oda had recently bribed Terabe Castle away from the Matsudaira, and Motoyasu, with the Imagawa's blessing, took it back, defeating a relief force sent by Nobunaga. The next year, Imagawa did a little horse-trading of his own, and lured Otaka castle away from the Oda. Nobunaga was furious, and had the fort surrounded. Soon, the garrison began to run out of food, and to lead a relief effort, Imagawa sent Matsudaira Motoyasu. Using a crafty bit of diversion, Motoyasu successfully provisioned Otaka - much to Nobunaga's chagrin.
1560
Okehazama
The following year, 1560, Imagawa Yoshimoto decided to make a decisive move to the west. His aim was to drive along the Tokaido coast, brushing aside the Oda and any who did not submit to the Imagawa army with the ultimate goal of occupying Kyoto. To this end Yoshimoto gathered perhaps 20,000 to 25,000 men from Suruga, Totomi, and Mikawa in June, leaving his son Ujizane to run things while he was off conquering. He included Matsudaira Motoyasu in the invasion force, and dispatched the Mikawa samurai to reduce the fort of Marume. Meanwhile, the rest of the Imagawa host crossed in Owari and assaulted Washizu Castle. The commanders of the besieged forts (Sakuma Môrishige and Oda Genba) managed to get off letters of warning to Nobunaga in Kiyosu, and his retainers were divided on what course of action to take. Given the obvious disparity in numbers, it seemed logical to adopt a defensive posture, or even to capitulate. Nobunaga was for fighting. With all the brash and unpredictable élan he was to show throughout his career, he ordered a conch shell blown and the garrison of Kiyosu made ready for battle.
The next morning, while Marume and Washizu were going up in flames, Nobunaga led a handful of men out of the castle and headed in the direction of Imagawa's army. Along the way he was joined by enough ashigaru and samurai to make an attack credible-if not particularly wise. At ten to one odds, Nobunaga's chances seemed slim at best, although the priests at the Atsuta Shrine that he stopped at to pray for victory commented on how calm he appeared.
Meanwhile, Imagawa was celebrating the course of his campaign so far. Encamped in the Dengakuhazama gorge, Imagawa's army rested and enjoyed sake, their leader engrossed in the viewing of the heads taken at Marume and Washizu. Nobunaga, paused near the Imagawa's Narumi Fort, learned of the Imagawa's location from scouts, and played a stratagem. He had battle flags hoisted up from behind a hill, presenting the image to the Imagawa stationed inside Narumi that the Oda were resting nearby. In fact, Nobunaga slipped his men quietly away, leading them in the direction of the Dengakuhazama. At this critical point, a bit of good luck went Nobunaga's way. A summer thunderstorm broiled over and let loose with a torrential downpour, enabling Nobunaga to sneak up quite close to the Imagawa's position. When the rains abated, he gave the order to attack.
Such was the suddenness and ferocity of the attack; Imagawa assumed that a fight had broken out among his own men. His misconception was quickly righted by the appearance of Oda spearmen who succeded in taking the head of the lord of Suruga. Nobunaga's surprise attack worked beautifully, and once word spread of Yoshimoto's demise, the Imagawa army fled, utterly defeated. Matsudaira Motoyasu, resting his men in Marume, heard of the defeat and thought it best to return to Mikawa forthwith.
Nobunaga's stunning victory at Dengakuhazama (known to posterity by the name of nearby Okehazama village) changed the course of Japanese history. It had two immediate results. Firstly, it brought Oda Nobunaga national fame and removed a wolf from his back door. Secondly, it allowed Matsudaira Motoyasu to extricate himself from the Imagawa's clutches and establish Mikawa as an independent province. Both results were to have heady consequences in the years to come.
1561-1570
Nobunaga's ambition
In 1561, Saitô Yoshitatsu, who had continued to fend off advances by the Oda, passed away, probably of leprosy. This left his son, Tatsuoki, in command and Nobunaga was quick to take advantage of the new lord's weak character. By bribing away key Saito generals, Nobunaga was able to weaken the defenses of Mino and in 1567 he attacked Inabayama, the headquarters of the Saitô clan. According to tradition, the hill-top castle was brought down by Hashiba (Toyotomi) Hideyoshi, although this valuable Oda retainer does not begin appearing in written records until around 1576.
The following year, Nobunaga moved his capital to Inabayama and renamed the castle Gifu. Everything about the move was auspicious, and made possible by two alliances - one to Matsudaira Motoyasu, and another to Takeda Shingenof Kai and Shinano. The name Gifu was taken from the castle from which Wu Wang, ruler of the Chou, had set out in the 12th Century to unify China. Emperor Ogimachi sent a letter of congratulations and Nobunaga adopted the motto Tenka Fubu, or 'the realm covered in military glory' (or, alternatively, 'The nation under one sword").
The only real opposition to his moves in Mino came from the Asai, who had declared war on the Saito at around the same time. Asai Nagamasa considered Mino at least partly his, and a small war quickly brewed up on the Ômi-Mino border. Nobunaga quickly arranged a peace and sealed an alliance by marrying his sister (O-ichi) off to Asai Nagamasa.
Nobunaga's ambition was given a powerful stimulant with the arrival of Ashikaga Yoshiaki at Gifu in 1567. The brother of the late shogun, Ashikaga Yoshiteru, murdered in 1565, Yoshiaki had spent the intervening years seeking out a patron. Yoshiteru's assassins - the Miyoshi and Matsunaga clans - had seen fit to legitimize their domination of Kyoto politics by naming the 2-year old Ashikaga Yoshihide as Yoshiteru's successor. When Yoshiaki heard the news, he gave up a Buddhist priesthood and fled with Hosokawa Fujitaka, both out of fear for his own life and in the hopes he would find a warlord strong enough to set things right in Kyôto. That he was the logical choice to follow Yoshiteru was clear…finding a Daimyô that would do something about it proved difficult. In his search, he approached the Takeda of Wakasa (not to be confused with the Takeda of Kai), the Uesugi of Echigo, and the Asakura of Echizen. The last seemed the most promising, in terms of military strength relative to a proximity to the capital, and indeed, Asakura Yoshikage promised to help. But Yoshikage stalled and in the end admitted that he was powerless to assist Yoshiaki's nomadic party.
Then Yoshiaki turned to Oda Nobunaga, who fairly jumped at the opportunity. In fact, he had expressed a desire in late 1565 to do just what Yoshiaki was asking, and it may be that Yoshiaki had been leery of approaching this young upstart to begin with. Uesugi and Asakura, after all, were names that carried quite a bit of prestige along with them. But, by 1567, Yoshiaki had evidently decided that beggars couldn't be choosers.
In 1568 Nobunaga's army marched westward in Yoshiaki's name, brushing aside the Rokkaku of southern Omi and putting to flight Miyoshi and Matsunaga. Matsunaga Hisahide promptly submitted (for which he was confirmed Daimyô of Yamato) while the Miyoshi withdrew to Settsu. In the ninth month Nobunaga entered Kyoto and within three weeks Yoshiaki was installed as the fifteenth Ashikaga shogun with the approval of Emperor Ogimachi. The mutually beneficial relationship of Yoshiaki and Nobunaga had thus far borne sweet fruit. In time, it would grow quite sour, foreshadowed by Nobunaga's refusal to accept the position of Kanrei, or deputy shogun, even when the Emperor himself requested he do so in 1569 . Nobunaga seemed determined to exist in a sort of political limbo, and expressed little interest in any orthodox rank or titles, including, as we shall see, that of shogun. That Nobunaga was the real ruler in Kyoto was the only part of the equation that lacked any sort of ambiguity.
1570-1573
Resistance
It was hardly surprising that the Daimyô who lived outside Nobunaga's sphere of influence would become quite agitated by the developments in Kyoto. Naturally, upheaval in Kyoto was nothing new - but Nobunaga was. He was quite unlike any of the various Miyoshi, Hosokawa, or Hatakeyama contenders of the past. Those lords, the Hosokawa Sumimoto's and Miyoshi Motonaga's of 1500-1565, had struggled for personal gain and prestige. Nobunaga seemed different. Certainly, he aimed for personal gain and prestige as well, but the sort of gain he desired was most different. By 1568, it is safe to say that Nobunaga aimed to rule all of Japan. Of course, this particular wish was hardly unique among the Daimyô - in point of fact, it is quite misleading to say that Nobunaga somehow possessed a vision denied his contemporaries. Rather, Nobunaga was in the right place at the right time and presented with the right window. The other great warlords of his day (some arguably greater as men go), Môri Motonari, Takeda Shingen, Uesugi Kenshin, and Hôjô Ujiyasu were all far removed from the capital, and in the case of the last three, unable to move due to the ambitions of their neighbors. The key was location. By taking Kyoto, Nobunaga positioned himself nicely in the center of Japan, which could be called the nation's 'soft under-belly'. While Nobunaga would face an implacable enemy in the Ikko-ikki that dwelled just beyond the Kinai, the weakness of the Daimyô within that region allowed him to build, by 1573, a considerable power-base. This is not to say, of course, that Nobunaga lacked the talents usually ascribed to him. But it is perhaps inaccurate to describe him as something other than a 'sengoku Daimyô'. He was rather the ultimate expression of the 'sengoku-Daimyô'. His power was based almost solely on the point of a sword, and as he grew in power, so did his use for diplomacy diminish. He kept a tight rein on his retainers, and was ruthless to his opponents, especially those who proved especially troublesome to him. His campaigns would be long and hard-fought as his reputation for cruelty grew. Few of his enemies had any illusion about what surrender would mean.
In early 1570, Nobunaga was presented with the first real challenge to his rise. Perhaps in an effort to feel out opposition, Nobunaga had evidently pressed Yoshiaki to request all the local Daimyô to come to Kyôto and attend a certain banquet. One of those who presence was requested was none other than Asakura Yoshikage, the very Daimyô who had frittered his own chance to champion Yoshiaki. Suspecting that Nobunaga was behind the 'invitation', Yoshikage refused, an act Nobunaga declared disloyal to both the shogun and the emperor. With this pretext well in hand, Nobunaga raised an army and marched on Echizen. Initially, all went well for the attackers, with the Asakura revealing their rather lack-luster leadership abilities. By March Nobunaga, supported by Tokugawa Ieyasu (the former Matsudaira Motoyasu), had penetrated Echizen's southern approaches and was moving on Yoshikage's capital (Ichijo-no-tani). Just then, Oda received startling news. His brother-in-law, Asai Nagamasa, had suddenly switched sides and gathered troops to help the Asakura. In fact, Nagamasa's change of heart was probably not as great a surprise as one might think. The Asai and Asakura had been allies for decades, and a single marriage - even if it included the Daimyô of the clan - was not enough to nullify such a long friendship.
At any rate, Nobunaga was placed in a bit of a tricky spot by Nagamasa's defection, but with the stout Tokugawa troops and wiles of Hashiba Hideyoshi at his disposal, he managed to extricate himself back to Kyoto without great loss. He wasted little time in taking issue with Nagamasa. In July he moved on the Asai's stronghold - Odani Castle - combining his levied troops with a sizable contingent of Tokugawa men for a total of 28,000 soldiers. Asai Nagamasa and Asakura Kagetake marched out to meet this host, and with their combined 20,000-man army, faced Nobunaga at the Anegawa River. The battle was hotly contested on the part of the Asai, but resulted in a victory for Nobunaga and Ieyasu. It was by no means decisive, but Anegawa represented a turning point in Nobunaga's career, in that while Okehazama may have been a fluke and the Saito and Rokkaku hardly impressive, Nobunaga was a man to be taken seriously.
But Asai and Asakura proved tenacious opponents. Later in 1570, they led another combined army along the coast of Lake Biwa and defeated an Oda army near Otsu, killing one of Nobunaga's own brothers, Nobuharu. In a significant development, the warrior-monks of Mt Hiei lent their support to the Asai and Asakura, a fatal error, as Nobunaga would ruthlessly prove in late 1571. In the meantime, Nobunaga found Ikko and warrior-monk resistance to his expansion stiffening at every turn. In Kwatchi, the warrior-monks of the Ishiyama Honganji fortress, well equipped with firearms, assisted the Miyoshi in their struggle against the Oda. In Ise, the Ikko-ikki of the Nagashima area openly defied Nobunaga and would cause him considerable difficulty until he dealt with them in 1574. An early struggle with the Ikko of Ise had already claimed the life of Nobunaga's brother Nobuoki (1569) and a preliminary assault in May of 1571 on Nagashima developed into a complete and costly fiasco.
By 1571 Nobunaga's position, while not in grave danger, was becoming a difficult one. Now actively arrayed against him were the Asai, Asakura, and Miyoshi clans, supported by Ikko and warrior monks from the Honganji, Enryakuji (of Mt. Hiei), Negoroji, and Nagashima. The Honganji proved the most formidable: head priest Kennyo Kosa and the Honganji's fanatical adherents were destined to hold out for a decade, in time supported by the Môri clan.
At the same time, there is some evidence that the shogun was busy conspiring against his former patron, sending out letters to the Môri of Western Japan, and to the Takeda, Uesugi, and Hôjô of Eastern Japan. Evidently Yoshiaki had become frustrated with Nobunaga's heavy-handedness, which only increased with the passage of time. By 1571 Oda had imposed a multitude of regulations and constraints on Yoshiaki's administration (chiefly outlined in two documents issued in 1569 and 1570) that all but reduced the shogun to a puppet.
Yoshiaki's best hope seemed to rest on the powerful Takeda Shingen of Kai, who by this point had taken control of Suruga and was pressing Oda's staunch ally, Tokugawa Ieyasu. While historians continue to debate just how deep Yoshiaki's schemes went, surviving documents and correspondence does lead one to believe that Shingen was seen by most as the greatest threat to Nobunaga and that Yoshiaki was proactive in getting the Takeda involved in the anti-Oda alliance.
Nobunaga, hardly willing to allow his enemies time to strangle him, responded with an act of brutality so unusual that even his own generals were shocked. In later 1571, Nobunaga's troops surrounded Mt. Hiei and proceeded to work their way up the mountainside, killing any and all found in their path. By the next day, the once sprawling Enryakuji complex was reduced to ashes and thousands lay dead. The centuries old power of Mt. Hiei had been broken, and Nobunaga was afforded a little breathing room. An attempt to repeat this success at Nagashima, however, ended in failure, and Nobunaga was forced to hold off on further efforts to reduce this stronghold while the Takeda threatened.
In 1572 Takeda Shingen stepped up his forays into Tokugawa's land, and Ieyasu requested military assistance. Nobunaga, despite the aid he had himself gotten from Ieyasu in the past, hesitated (he was, after all, still technically allied to Shingen). Ieyasu's response was to hint that there was little that might otherwise stop the Tokugawa from actually joining the Takeda - a scenario that would put the Oda in a most precarious position. Wisely, Nobunaga agreed to help as much as his own situation allowed.
In the winter of 1572, Takeda led a large army down from Shinano into Totomi and threatened Ieyasu's headquarters at Hamamatsu. Nobunaga sent a few thousand men under three generals of mixed quality - not enough to stave off the defeat that followed but enough to eliminate any pretext of civility that may have existed between Nobunaga and Shingen. At the same time, Takeda troops actually penetrated Mino, and captured the imposing Iwamura Castle - an embarrassing event that no doubt made Oda furious.
Fortune was destined to smile on Nobunaga in 1573, however. By that May, Takeda Shingen was dead. While the specifics of his passing remain something of a mystery, the loss of Shingen would ultimately prove fatal to the Takeda clan and a boon for Nobunaga. The timing certainly could not have proved worse for Ashikaga Yoshiaki, who in March had fortified Nijo Castle and dispatched letters to Nobunaga's enemies, urging them onward. While Shingen threatened, Nobunaga had been unable to respond to the shogun's defiance, save for making a few good will overtures to Yoshiaki.
The Takeda clan had endeavored to keep Shingen's death a secret, but it seems likely that Nobunaga at least intuited the truth. With all of the furious determination he would become famous for, Nobunaga turned on his remaining enemies in the Chubu region. On 3 May he surrounded Kyoto and caught Yoshiaki unprepared, forcing the shogun to negotiate. An uneasy truce was arranged through the intercession of the Emperor, one that neither side expected to hold for long. In the meantime, Nobunaga took charge of operations against the Nagashima Ikko stronghold and led an army there in July. He was defeated in a sharp struggle and forced to retreat, an embarrassing setback that may have helped goad Yoshiaki into rebelling again in the first week of August. Leaving Mizubuchi Fujihide in charge of Nijo, Yoshiaki barricaded himself in a fort astride the Uji River. His intention evidently was to hold off Nobunaga long enough for the Asai, Asakura, and Honganji to fall on Oda from behind. In fact, Yoshiaki's position was strong - but in the event not strong enough. Realizing the danger inherent in Yoshiaki's recalcitrance, Nobunaga acted swiftly. He assaulted Yoshiaki's stronghold and by 18 August had breached the fort's outer defenses. Yoshiaki sued for peace and pleaded for his life - a request Nobunaga granted. Instead, Yoshiaki was exiled, the last of the Ashikaga shoguns. From now until his death, Nobunaga would act as the defacto Shôgun.
Yoshiaki was barely on the road to refuge in the western provinces when Nobunaga marched north against the Asai and Asakura. He threatened Odani Castle, then ambushed and defeated the Asakura army dutifully dispatched in relief. Leaving a force to mask Odani, Nobunaga chased the fleeing Asakura into Echizen, easily capturing Ichijo-ga-tani. Asakura Yoshikage had abandoned his castle and ended up committing suicide in a temple on 16 September. Nobunaga then returned to Omi and surrounded Odani. Asai Nagamasa died a much less pathetic death then his ally Yoshikage, and made the honorable gesture of returning Nobunaga's sister and her children before committing suicide.
With the Asai and Asakura gone, and the Takeda for the moment quiet, Nobunaga was free to inflict vengeance on the Ikko of Nagashima. Supported by the naval strength of Kûki Yoshitaka of Shima, Nobunaga blockaded Nagashima and captured its outlaying forts. During the August of 1574 the Oda forced the Ikko within the walls of their main fortifications and essentially imprisoned them there. The Nagashima complex was then set alight, and as many as 20,000 men, women, and children were massacred. This was not to be the last of Nobunaga's blood baths, but in many ways it was the most shocking, though not nearly as well known as his destruction of Mt. Hiei.
Within one year, Nobunaga's borders and military clout had grown substantiality, enough to allow him to conduct three initiatives at once: the continued siege of the Honganji, a war of extermination aimed at the Ikko of Echizen and Kaga, and a showdown with the Takeda. The last would culminate in the bloody struggle at Nagashino.
Nobunaga the Ruler
In early 1574, Nobunaga was promoted to the junior third rank (ju sanmi) and made a court advisor (sangi); court appointments would continue to be lavished on a near-yearly basis, perhaps in the hopes of placating him. By February 1578 the court had made him Daijo daijin, or Grand Minister of State - the highest post that could be given. Yet if the court had hoped that exalted titles would woo Nobunaga, they were to be mistaken. In May of 1574 Nobunaga resigned his titles, pleading unfinished work in the provinces, and stepped up a campaign to force Emperor Ogimachi into retirement. That Nobunaga did not succeed in having Ogimachi removed goes some way towards demonstrating that there was a limit to his power - although what exactly acted as a check on his ambitions is a matter of scholarly debate. Suffice it to say that Nobunaga was in every other way tantamount to a shogun in the lands he controlled. That he did not actually take the title of shogun is generally explained by his not being of Minamoto blood, which is misleading and possibly quite off the mark. A worthwhile discussion of this issue would likely require a careful examination of the rank of Shôgun taken in its greater historical context - beyond the scope of this writing. Let it be said that in all probability Nobunaga could well have taken the title, at least after 1582, but died without saying much on the business himself.
Nobunaga's entry into Kyôto presented him with a situation very different from that which he had come. While Kyôto had come a long way since the dark days of the Ônin War, it was still in relative disrepair, with it's population subject to myriad tollbooths along the roadways and hills infested with bandits. Nobunaga's responsibilities increased exponentially, both militarily and politically after 1568. His first order of business, and that arguably most important to him, was to establish an economic power base and maximize the potential wealth of the Kinai. Among his many measures were included the abolition of tollbooths (perhaps partially as a PR move on his part, as the action was quite popular with the common people) and a series of cadastral surveys in Yamato, Yamashiro, Ômi, and Ise. Nobunaga moved to control the minting and exchange of coins, and brought the merchant city of Sakai under his influence, which in time proved to be worth it's weight in gold. He used his gathering wealth to compensate for the generally poor quality of his common soldiery by buying as many rifles as he could get his hands on-and building his own when the arms factory at Kunimoto (Omi) fell into his hands after 1573.
Culturally Nobunaga was also active. An avid student of the tea ceremony and poetry (if not an exceptional poet) he collected tea items from near and far, and held tea and poetry gatherings with such learned and cultured men as Hosokawa Fujitaka, Imai Sokyu, and Sen no Rikyu. In the same vein he encouraged the giving of tea items and other objects as a reward for exceptional service, as opposed to the traditional grant of land, and the reward of a tea item from Nobunaga's hand was felt to be an exceptional honor (regardless of whether the receiver was much of a tea man himself!).
Westerners fascinated Nobunaga and he showed a high degree of tolerance for their activities, to the extent that he is sometimes referred to mistakenly as a Christian. The chances that Nobunaga planned to convert are probably nonexistent - rather, the Jesuits fulfilled two uses for Nobunaga: 1) they provided him with some of the novelties and artifacts he habitually collected and probably added to his sense of power (the Jesuits tended to see Nobunaga as the real ruler of Japan - a distinction he could not have but enjoyed) and, 2), they acted as a foil to his Buddhist enemies, if only to increase their frustration. Much has always been made in western works of Nobunaga's relationship with the Jesuits - it is possible, however, that he saw them as merely useful and somewhat amusing diversions. Far more important to Nobunaga were his own retainers, and yet he does not come across as a particularly trustworthy leader. Few if any samurai entered his inner circle of top retainers after 1568. Even those top men he did employ were moved about from place to place, and often treated with at least some modicum of coldness. In 1580, after the fall of the Ishiyama Honganji, Nobunaga summarily dismissed and allowed to die in exile one of his oldest retainers - Sakuma Nobumôri, for alleged incompetence of command. He is recorded as teasing Hideyoshi with the nickname 'Saru', or Monkey, and deriding Akechi Mitsuhide for his poetic ability (actually considered rather good) and his hairline. There are other, more outrageous recordings, but, as always in Sengoku tales, it is sometimes difficult to discern where truth ends and hyperbole begins. For all that, it is likely that Nobunaga would not have been nearly as successful as he was had he been afraid to delegate. Shibata Katsuie, for instance, was dispatched to subdue the Hokuriku and with a few notable exceptions, Nobunaga left him to it for the better part of a decade. When Nobunaga decided to launch a campaign into the Chugoku region, he sent Hideyoshi and Akechi to lead the armies, never once commanding troops there himself.
In 1578 Azuchi Castle was completed in Ômi province and stood as the most impressive castle ever built in Japan. Lavishly decorated and immensely expensive, Azuchi was meant not so much for defense but as a way of clearly illustrating his power to the nation. He went to great lengths to draw merchants and citizens to Azuchi's accompanying town, and probably saw it becoming the long-term capital of the Oda hegemony - in whatever form it took.
While in certain ways a sengoku Daimyô on a grand scale, Nobunaga was a tireless ruler and worked for years to create a military and economic super-state within the slowly widening borders of his realm. The success of Toyotomi Hideyoshi and by extension Tokugawa Ieyasu rests largely on the shoulders of the work Oda Nobunaga did before 1582.
In 1575, of course, there was still much work to be done…
1575
Nagashino

The Battle of Nagashino, 1575
The loss of Shingen in 1573 had ostensibly only slowed the Takeda war machine. The following year Takeda Katsuyori, Shingen's heir, pulled off a strategic coup with the capture of Taketenjin Castle in Totomi. Tokugawa Ieyasu, whose efforts to relieve Taketenjin failed, had his hands full with Katsuyori; while not the ruler his father had been, Katsuyori was brave and was not lacking in aggression. Combined with the skilled Takeda army and the late Shingen's experienced cadre of captains, Katsuyori's indomitable spirit made him a formidable foe
In May 1575 Katsuyori hatched a plot whereby one of Ieyasu's retainers would betray his lord and open the gates of Hamamatsu Castle to the approaching Takeda army. Katsuyori was halfway to Hamamatsu before he learned that the plot had been uncovered and Ieyasu alerted. Perhaps as a consolation prize, Katsuyori turned his attentions to Nagashino Castle, a fort held by a certain Okudaira Sadamasa. When direct attack failed to reduce the garrison, Katsuyori settled in for a siege and attempted to mine the walls. Nagashino may well have fallen had it not been for a brave member of the garrison, Torii Sune'emon, who slipped through the Takeda lines and delivered a message to Ieyasu explaining the castle's predicament. Ieyasu sent Torii back to let Nagashino know that he had no intention of abandoning him, but he was captured and crucified by the Takeda in the attempt.
Tokugawa was determined to rescue Nagashino, but lacked the manpower to do so alone. Nobunaga, on the other hand, was hesitant, perhaps reluctant to take so many of his men and leaders so far from the Kyôto area. In frustration, Ieyasu once again played his trump card - he threatened to join the Takeda and attack Oda as part of their vanguard! Faced with this rather unpleasant prospect, Nobunaga changed his mind and agreed to throw his full weight into the effort. Moving quickly, he gathered an army of some 30,000 men, to be commanded by some of his best commanders, including Shibata Katsuie, Hashiba Hideyoshi, and Takigawa Kazumasu. Tokugawa brought about 8,000 men of his own, tough Mikawa men whose skill would once again more than make up for their relative lack in numbers. Perhaps most importantly, Nobunaga arranged to deal with the vaunted Takeda cavalry by bringing along a sizable contingent of riflemen (around 3,000) and logs to throw up a palisade for protection.
In late June, the Oda and Tokugawa forces converged on Nagashino, putting Katsuyori in a difficult spot. Nagashino Castle, bolstered by Torii's brave sacrifice, was holding firm, leaving the weary Takeda army outnumbered AND without a base from which to conduct operations from. The older - and wiser - Takeda retainers urged Katsuyori to either retreat or make one last push to take the castle. Unfortunately for them and the Takeda clan, Katsuyori chose to do neither - he ordered preparations for an all-out attack on the Oda and Tokugawa army massed just to their west. The attack, in retrospect, was almost bound to fail - even had Nobunaga left most of his guns at home and dispensed with his palisade building. The Takeda were tired from weeks in the field in poor weather, outnumbered almost three to one, and faced with attacking over ground broken by foliage, dips, and a stream. It has been said that Katsuyori planned to attack in the hopes that rain would render Nobunaga's guns useless, but this apologetic excuse seems unlikely. In truth, Nagashino seems to have simply been a tremendous mistake on the part of an impetuous commander. These judgments aside, the battle progressed poorly for the Takeda from the first. On the night of 27 June, the day before the actual battle, Sakai Tadatsugu led a raid into the Takeda camp and killed one of Shingen's surviving brothers, Takeda Nobuzane. When day broke, any possible Takeda hopes for rain were dashed by the rays of a bright morning sun. Nonetheless, Katsuyori gave the order to attack, sending nearly 10,000 of his troops across the Shidarahara against 38,000 troops established on superior ground and entrenched with wooden palisades. Matchlock fire produced the first casualties, and likely served to further disrupt formations already strained by the difficult terrain. In a scene vaguely reminiscent of Gettysburg, the Takeda vanguard managed to reach the enemy lines and even cut into their ranks before being thrown back by counterattacks led by fresh, eager troops. On the northern flank, Baba Nobuharu's Takeda contingent managed to capture some of the high ground, and held their integrity together well. To his immediate south, however, Baba's comrades fared much worse. Yamagata Masakage and Naito Masatoyo, two of the greatest Takeda generals, were killed in the melee, the former by a bullet and the latter by enemy spears. With the Takeda wavering, Nobunaga ordered a general pile-on, sending his ashigaru pouring out from behind the palisades. The battle had devolved into butchery, and Katsuyori added to the fiasco by sending in his reserves, which did little but add to the casualty list and encourage the Nagashino garrison to mount a sally. Finally, after hours of bitter struggle, Katsuyori was convinced to retreat by Baba Nobuharu, who covered his master's flight until he and his men were themselves killed. Katsuyori left as many as 10,000 of his men dead at Nagashino. 28 June 1575 was Nobunaga's greatest achievement, a victory as tactically decisive as Okehazama and ultimately of great strategic significance. The victory at Nagashino all but secured his eastern flank and allowed him to throw his weight into the siege of the Honganji and consolidate his recent gains. Takeda Katsuyori was beaten but not vanquished, and would continue to harass Tokugawa, yet, as a regional power, the Takeda were broken.
Nobunaga returned to Kyoto and prepared for new battles and new enemies.
1576 - 1580
The reduction of the Takeda made Nobunaga's dream of conquering Japan seem more and more plausible, although there were three enemies who were close enough to take active issue with his designs…
1) The Honganji. The Ishiyama Honganji stronghold proved no less formidable then before Nagashino. In June 1576 he dispatched Harada Naomasa with an army to attack the Honganji-an effort that ended in failure and the loss of Harada's life. Nobunaga responded by personally leading an attack that succeeded in taking quite a few heads but saw Nobunaga wounded in the course of the fighting. Realizing that a direct assault on the heavily defended fortress would prove extraordinarily costly even if it succeded at all, Nobunaga decided to change tactics. He began reducing the Ishiyama Honganji's satellites, crushing the Saiga monto of Kii and weakening the warrior monks of the Negoroji. The Honganji itself held firm, drawing support from two powerful clans sympathetic to its cause - the Uesugi of Echigo and the Môri of Western Honshu.
2) The Uesugi. Uesugi Kenshin and Oda Nobunaga had maintained a wary relationship into 1576. For a time, Kenshin had cooperated with Nobunaga against the Takeda, but lost interest in their alliance after Nagashino. Two factors contributed to the rising tension between the two clans. Firstly, Nobunaga was gradually expanding deeper into the Hokuriku, a region Kenshin considered within the Uesugi sphere of influence. Secondly, ground was broken on Azuchi Castle in the spring of 1576, and Nobunaga made little secret that he planned to make his new capital the grandest castle ever built. Kenshin took this, or at least chose to take this, as a threatening gesture-after all, Azuchi would block any move by Kenshin into the Kinai Region and act as a staging area for attacks into the Hokuriku. Kenshin's response was to step up his own expansion. He had already taken Etchu and in1577 attacked Noto, a province that Nobunaga had already made some political investment in. Nobunaga responded by leading a large army into Kaga and met Kenshin's army at the Tedori River. Kenshin proved himself to be as wily a foe as his old enemy Shingen, and lured Nobunaga into making a frontal assault across the Tedori at night. In a hard-fought struggle, the Oda forces were defeated and Nobunaga was forced to retreat south. Kenshin returned to Echigo and made plans to return the following spring, this time to destroy Nobunaga. Unfortunately, time deserted Kenshin just as it had Shingen, when he was at the height of his power and in a position to thwart Nobunaga's ambitions. In fact, Kenshin's death on 13 April 1578 was so fortuitous for Nobunaga that rumors of assassination began circulating almost immediately. In actuality, it appears more likely that Kenshin died from natural causes - he was supposedly quite ill even as he prepared for the coming campaign season. Regardless of the circumstances of his death, Kenshin's passing triggered a bitter civil war within the Uesugi and made Nobunaga's life that much easier. Over the next four years Oda forces under Shibata Katsuie, Maeda Toshiie, and Sassa Narimasa would pick away at the Uesugi's holdings, until they were at the borders of Echigo.
3) The Môri. In terms of sheer lands under their rule, the Môri were one of Japan's most impressive clans. From humble beginnings under Môri Motonari, the Môri had expanded to control much of the Chugoku region, and now watched Nobunaga's expansion with dismay. Motonari had been an early critic of Nobunaga and when he died in 1571 his successor, Môri Terumoto, carried on the Môri's budding opposition. The Ishiyama Honganji proved a convenient place to oppose Nobunaga. In 1576 Nobunaga diverted the naval forces of Kûki Yoshitaka to the waters off Settsu and proceeded with a naval blockade of the Honganji, assisted by the Atagi of Awaji Island. The Môri responded by mobilizing their first rate navy, which was commanded by the Murakami family: men who, like the Kûki, had cut their teeth in piracy. Sailing east, the Môri brushed aside Atagi Nobuyasu's forces off Awaji and proceeded to defeat Kuki Yoshitaka's ships at the 1st Battle of Kizugawaguchi. The Honganji's supply line was opened and supplies were funneled in via sea transport, making Nobunaga's efforts at blockade on land moot. Realizing that the Honganji would have to be isolated if he ever hoped to capture it, Nobunaga tasked Kûki with devising naval vessels that would offset the Môri's numerical superiority. Yoshitaka dutifully went back to Shima and in 1578 unveiled six massive, heavily armed warships some have fancied were equipped with armored plates. These formed the core of a fleet that sailed back into the Inland Sea and drove off the Môri at the 2nd Battle of Kizugawaguchi. The next year, Môri Terumoto made another abortive attempt to lift the naval blockade but failed. By that point, the Môri were faced with a crisis of their own: Nobunaga's generals were marching west. Akechi Mitsuhide was charged with conquering Tamba and then advancing along the northern coast of the Chugoku. Toyotomi (Hashiba) Hideyoshi entered Harima and began a number of sieges that would ultimately open the gates to the Môri's hinterland.
1580 opened with the Honganji completely isolated and now rapidly running low on supplies. Finally, faced with Nobunaga's seemingly endless energy and determination as well as starvation, the Honganji looked for a peaceful solution. The court stepped in (persuaded by Nobunaga) and requested that Kennyo Kosa and the commander of the Honganji garrison, Shimotsuma Nakayuki, honorably surrender. In August the Honganji came to terms, and threw open their gates. Somewhat surprisingly, Nobunaga spared all of the surviving defenders - even Kosa and Shimotsuma. After over a decade of bloodshed, Nobunaga had subdued the last of the great ikko bastions and cleared the way for an eventual rise to national hegemony.
One more difficulty remained to be dealt with in Nobunaga's backyard: Iga province. Small, mountainous and strategically unimportant, Iga and its rustic warrior houses had been spared Nobunaga's attentions for over a decade. Then in 1579 Oda Nobuo, Nobunaga's 2nd son, sent in an invasion force under Takigawa Kazumasu to bring the province under Oda control. The operation was a fiasco and prompted Nobuo to lead an army into Iga himself. This campaign (October 1579) was a near-disaster as well, and earned Nobuo no small amount of criticism from his father. Of course, Nobunaga had little choice but to avenge this embarrassment to the Oda name, although other matters delayed him from doing so until 1581. In October of that year, an army of some 44,000 men descended on Iga and brutally quelled the independent-minded samurai there.
When 1582 began, Nobunaga found himself in a suitable position to finish off the Takeda clan once and for all. Massing all of his available forces (anywhere from 50,000 to 100,000 men), Nobunaga made for Katsuyori's still considerable territories. Supported by Tokugawa Ieyasu and the Hôjô clan, Nobunaga easily broke into Shinano and Kai, whose people had lost all confidence in their daimyo. Katsuyori himself, all but abandoned by his men, committed suicide in the shadow of the Temmoku-zan. Of all the Oda's samurai enemies, Nobunaga seems to have despised the Takeda most of all, and gloated shamelessly over Katsuyori's head.
On 21 May Nobunaga returned to Azuchi Castle and was greeted by an imperial court that promised him new titles including, if he wanted it, that of shôgun. Nobunaga gave no answer, nor would he ever. Already, Akechi Mitsuhide was plotting against him; within two months Nobunaga would be dead.
The Death of Nobunaga
As mentioned earlier, Nobunaga was said to have treated his retainers haughtily, and this seems to have been nowhere more the case than with Akechi Mitsuhide. A relatively late addition to Nobunaga's inner circle, Mitsuhide was a talented general and poet, perhaps provoking his lord's jealousy as a result of the latter. The best-known story regarding the rift between the two men and just unusual enough to be true occurred in 1577. In that year, Akechi had been tasked with subduing Tamba, and in the course of his campaign besieged the castle of the Hatano clan. Akechi succeded in securing the bloodless surrender of Hatano Hideharu and brought him before Nobunaga. To Akechi's shock, Nobunaga (for reasons unknown) ordered Hatano and his brother executed. The Hatano retainers blamed Akechi for the betrayal and in revenge kidnapped and brutally murdered Akechi's mother (who lived on the Akechi lands in nearby Omi). Unsurprisingly, this whole business did not sit so well with Mitsuhide, although there is no real hint of his actively plotting until 1582. In that year, Nobunaga returned from his conquest of the Takeda clan in time for news of a crisis in the west. Hideyoshi was investing Takamatsu castle, but faced with the arrival of the main Môri army requested reinforcements. Nobunaga responded by speeding a large contingent of his personal troops westward while he himself entertained court nobles at the Honnoji in Kyôto on 20 June. He awoke the following morning in the Honnoji to find that during the night Akechi Mitsuhide had the temple surrounded. Raising an army on the pretext of going to Hideyoshi's aid, Mitsuhide had taken a detour into Kyôto and now called for Nobunaga's head. As Nobunaga had only a small personal guard in attendance on the morning of 21 June, the outcome was a forgone conclusion, and he died, either in the blaze that was started in the course of the fighting or by his own hand. Soon afterwards, Oda Hidetada was surrounded at Nijo and killed. 11 days after that, Akechi Mitsuhide would himself be killed, defeated by Hideyoshi at the Battle of Yamazaki.
Oda Nobunaga died one of most interesting and controversial figures in Japanese history who continues to inspire debate among scholars and enthusiasts of the Sengoku Period. Was he the tyrant so often portrayed in the history books, as his wholesale slaughter of religious adherents might indicate? Was there a method to his madness, where terror was a weapon he felt needed to be used were he ever to achieve his goals? Did he really believe himself a deity, as the contemporary observer Luis Frois recorded? How much further might he have gone had his career not been cut short?
Regardless of these questions and their possible answers, Oda Nobunaga, like Taira Kiyomori (his supposed antecedent), lives on in history as a complicated man who changed Japan forever. |
Miyamoto Musashi
1584? - 1645
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Miyamoto Musashi
T he famed swordsman Miyamoto Musashi was born Shinmen Takezo in Harima Province and may have fought at Sekigahara under the Ukita as a common soldier. He makes no mention this (perhaps unsurprisingly) in the brief biography in his book, rather confining himself to his achievements in single combat. He claimed to have defeated his first opponent (a certain Arima Kihei) at the age of 13, following this up with a victory over " powerful martial artist called Akiyama of Tajima province." After 1600 Musashi drifted to Kyoto and became involved in a well-known battle with the Yoshioka School of swordsmanship, emerging victorious. He wrote that he engaged in sixty duels without suffering defeat once, and was noted in this regard for his skill at handling two swords at once. He was also remembered for employing a simple bamboo sword, which he used to deadly effect.
Much of Musashi's life between 1600 and 1640 is the stuff of legend and some have postulated that he served at Osaka Castle (1614-1615) on the defending side, taking quite a few heads in the process. In a similar vein, he is sometimes said to have helped quell the Shimabara Rebellion of 1638 - a theory which, as with his glories at Osaka, is impossible to prove. On the other hand, many of the important events depicted in Yoshikawa Eiji's famous novel Musashi have a basis in reality, to include his battle with the Yoshioka School, his defeat of the noted spearman Inei (chief priest of the Hôzô-in), and his duel in 1612 with Sasaki Kojiro, another famed swordsman. Less well-known is his skill as a painter, his works including a number of self-portraits and naturescapes.
Musashi the man must have cut a forbidding appearance: he was said to have rarely bathed or changed his clothes as well as suffering from a somewhat disfiguring skin condition. Following his duel with Sasaki, he seems to have focused his energies on perfecting his style of swordsmanship, spending much time in travel and reflection - thus epitomizing the much-beloved image of the brooding wanderer samurai.
In 1640 Musashi accepted service with the Hosokawa clan, and three years later, in Higo Province, began work on his great book, Gorin no shô (The Book of Five Rings). He finished this influential work on swordsmanship in May 1645 - the same year he died.
Musashi has enjoyed an immense popularity in the 20th Century and beyond, largely as a result of Yoshikawa's novel (which was originally published in serialized form in the Asahi Shimbun). Musashi skillfully weaves fact and fiction together to create an engrossing tale that has experienced increasing reknown in the West. Interestingly, the Asahi Shimbun noted in 1988 that at least one Edo Period source questioned Musashi's duel with Sasaki, stating that Musashi was not alone at the fight, and that his followers killed Ganryu when he had been knocked down to the ground.
Musashi's own book, the Gorin no shô, was quite well thought of in the United States during the 1980's as a glimpse into the Japanese mind, and was thus consumed by American businessmen - perhaps to the ironic amusement of their Japanese counterparts |
Minamoto Yoshiie
1041-1108
Minamoto Yoshiie, a man who came to embody the spirit of the samurai and a legend even in his own time, was the son of Minamoto Yoriyoshi (995-1082). Yoriyoshi, the third generation of the Seiwa Genji, was a noted commander, and in 1051 was commissioned to defeat the rebellious Abe family of Dewa Province. The Abe had for years held prominent posts in this distant, forbidding region, and had come to assume a certain autonomy. Like Taira Masakado, the Abe had been tasked with subduing the northern barbarians, and, from the Court’s point of view, become barbarians themselves. They were in fact described as ebisu, a somewhat generic term which was also applied to the Ainu.
Yoriyoshi’s chief opponent was Abe Yoritoki, an unscrupulous character who died of an arrow wound in 1057. By this point in the so-called Former Nine-Years War, Yoriyoshi’s son Yoshiie had joined the expedition. A promising young warrior, Yoshiie participated in the Battle of Kawasaki (later in 1057) against Yoritoki’s heir Sadato. In a snowstorm, the Minamoto assaulted Sadato’s stronghold at Kawasaki and were driven back; in the course of the hard-fought retreat Yoshiie distinguished himself and earned the nickname ‘Hachimantaro’, or ‘First son (or First born) of the God of War (Hachiman)’. Abe Sadato comes across as an altogether more impressive man than his father, and proved a formidable foe even for Yoshiie and Yoriyoshi. Yet the Minamoto cause was much assisted by the enlistment of Kiyowara Noritake, a locally powerful figure whose rugged northern men swelled Yoriyoshi’s ranks.
In 1057 the fighting culminated in a series of actions that further enhanced Yoshiie’s reputation. Sadato had attacked the Minamoto troops but suffering a reverse retreated into a fort by the Koromo River. Yoriyoshi ordered a spirit assault on the fort, which Sadato was forced to flee. During the chaotic retreat, Yoshiie was supposed to have chased Sadato and had an impromptu renga (linked verse) session with his enemy from horseback, afterwards allowing him to escape. The probability that the incident actually occurred is next to nil, but it made Yoshiie seem all the more colorful, and gave him an opponent worthy in both warfare and culture. In fact, the war was nearly over. Sadato continued his flight until he reached another fort, this one on the Kuriyagawa, and prepared for another stand. The government troops arrived and after a few days of fighting brought the fort down. Sadato and his son died, and his brother Muneto was captured. Yoshiie gave thanks to his namesake by establishing the Tsurugaoka Hachiman shrine near Kamakura on the way back to Kyoto. Yoriyoshi was awarded the governorship of Iyo Province for his services against the Abe while Yoshiie was named Governor of Mutsu. Interestingly, Abe Muneto was released into the custody of the Minamoto and lived in Iyo, becoming a companion of Yoshiie’s. In 1082 Yoriyoshi died.
In 1083 Yoshiie was commissioned by the Court to subdue another rebel, this time against the same Kiyowara family who had assisted the Minamoto in the previous war. After the Abe’s defeat, the Kiyowara had been elevated and filled the power vacuum in the north. A power struggle had broken out among various family members, and in the end Yoshiie was sent to quell the disturbance. The conflict became known as the Later Three-Year War and culminated, after a setback at Numu (1086), in the Battle of Kanazawa. In an incident that became a famous military anecdote, Yoshiie’s men were advancing to contact when a flock of birds began to settle in a certain spot then abruptly flew off. Yoshiie suspected an ambush and had the place surrounded, sure enough revealing the enemy army. Yoshiie went on to reduce Kanazawa through siege and the Later Three-Year War drew to a close. The Court was pleased that the Kiyowara had been suppressed, but viewed the conflict as outside the Court’s responsibility, as technically Yoshiie had not been commissioned by the emperor to fight. This meant that no rewards would be distributed to Yoshiie’s men, an unfortunate situation Yoshiie remedied by paying them himself with his own lands. This action greatly enhanced Yoshiie’s reputation and also secured lasting bonds of loyalty for the Minamoto in the Kanto region, bonds that would pay dividends in the following century.
Stinginess aside, the aristocracy held Yoshiie in near-awe, and Fujiwara Munetada dubbed him ‘The Samurai of the greatest bravery under heaven.’ At the same time, the Court kept Yoshiie at arm’s length. It did go so far as permitting Yoshiie to visit the Imperial Court in 1098; a rare honor that by it’s very rareness indicates the widening gulf between the Court and provincial houses. This alienation would in the end contribute to the eclipse of Imperial authority by the samurai in the later 12th Century.
Shrouded in mystery, elevated to an almost godlike status in the old chronicles, it is difficult to place Minamoto Yoshiie in a historical context. His greatest political contribution was probably in strengthening the Minamoto family, especially those branches residing in the Kanto. His other contribution was less tangible. The legend of Minamoto Yoshiie, who emerged from his northern wars and the chronicles as a cultured man of war, established a model for future samurai that would influence generations of warriors to come.
Takayama Ukon
1552 - 1615
Takayama Ukon was born the son of Takayama Tomoteru (also known as Zusho; 1531-1596), a retainer of Matsunaga Hisahide who held Sawa Castle in NW Yamato province.
Known in his childhood as Hikogorô, the future Ukon was given the name Shigetomo upon his coming of age.1 Ukon’s father became a Christian 1564 and Ukon was baptized as ‘Justo’. Not long afterwards, in 1565, Matsunaga murdered the Shôgun Ashikaga Yoshiteru, and then became involved in a war with the Miyoshi. In the course of the feud, Sawa, Tomoteru’s castle, was lost, forcing the Takayama to flee. Through the good offices of Wada Koremasa, a friendly acquaintance of Tomoteru’s, the Takayama came under Oda Nobunaga’s banner and took up service with the Wada in 1568.
In 1571 the Wada came to blows with Araki Murashige (? -1579?), a powerful vassal of Ikeda Katsumasa (who in turn served the Miyoshi - Oda Nobunaga’s enemies). Murashige besieged Tomoteru’s castle, and Wada Koremasa came up to the front with a relief force. In the ensuing confrontation, Koremasa was killed. Murashige was nonetheless unable to bring the castle down and retreated, allowing Tomoteru to become advisor to Koremasa’s successor, Korenaga. Relations between the young lord and the Takayama were sour, and word came to Tomoteru that Korenaga plotted to have him and his son killed. Tomoteru decided to act fist. In April 1573 he called upon Korenaga and asked that he come and visit his home, where waited 15 samurai, including Ukon. Korenaga arrived with an armed escort and in the ensuing melee the latter was killed. The Takayama took over Wada’s castle, Takatsuki, a move backed by the troops of Araki Murashige, whose support Tomoteru had gained prior to the assassination. As Murashige had just sided with Oda Nobunaga, this affair was not quite treason, rather being an internal matter which Nobunaga seems to have had no comment on.2
The Takayama remained under the Araki’s influence until 1578, the year Murashige rebelled against Nobunaga. The reasons for Murashige’s revolt are unclear, though the suggestion has been made from time to time that Nobunaga distrusted the Araki and considered dispossessing them, intentions that reached Murashige’s ears. For Nobunaga, the rebellion could not have come at a worse time. He had just managed to complete his blockade of the Ishiyama Honganji; Murashige’s actions threatened to loosen the noose he had painstakingly set and also encourage dissension elsewhere.
Critical to Araki’s success were a number of castles that formed a perimeter around Itami, his headquarters. The most important of these included Ibaragi, held by Nakagawa Kiyohide (also known as Nakagawa Sebei; 1542-1583) and Takayama’s Takatsuki. Nobunaga had Takatsuki surrounded by the forces of Fuwa Mitsuharu, Kanamori Nagachika and others, while calling for the Jesuit Padre Gnecchi-Soldo Organtino. Knowing the Takayama were devout Christians, Nobunaga asked the Padre to convince them to surrender, promising that such an outcome would benefit the Church. At the same time, he hinted that failure to submit would lead to an unfortunate persecution. Padre Organtino obligingly contacted Ukon and informed him of Nobunaga’s message, which the younger Takayama took to heart. Unwilling to allow harm to come to his religion, he abandoned Takatsuki in the night. His father was furious and went to Murashige to apologize (and, hopefully, save a number of hostages that had earlier been sent to the Araki).3 Murashige took no action against the remaining members of the Takayama, and in the end, released the Takayama hostages.
Nobunaga rewarded Ukon for his decision, especially after the latter was able to convince Nakagawa to open Ibaragi’s gates to the Oda. Both Ukon and Nakagwa kept their castles and Takayama set about converting the population in his fief. Many temples were reportedly torn down or converted to churches, an activity that could have hardly drawn less concern from Nobunaga, the destroyer of the Enryakuji.
In June 1582 Nobunaga was killed by Akechi Mitsuhide in Kyôto. Toyotomi Hideyoshi hastily marched back from the western provinces on a campaign of vengeance, and in Settsu was joined by the Takayama and Nakagawa. In the ensuing Battle of Yamazaki, both men commanded troops in Hideyoshi’s vanguard and helped defeat Akechi Mitsuhide’s army.4
After Hideyoshi’s triumph at Yamazaki, conflict broke out between the late Nobunaga’s senior retainers over the matter of succession. The tensions culminated in open warfare between faction led by Hideyoshi and Shibata Katsuie. In late 1582 Hideyoshi dispatched Takayama and Nakagawa to northern Omi and tasked them with holding two critical forts placed to block any movement from the Shibata down from Echizen. Takayama was given Iwasakiyama and, some miles to the south, Nakagawa was installed in Shizugatake. In early 1583 Katsuie dispatched an army under Sakuma Morimasa to capture these frontier forts, and in the course of the campaign Takayama was forced to abandon Iwasakiyama and take up in nearby Tagami.5 Sakuma went on to besiege Shizugatake and killed Nakagawa, although he was unable to take the castle itself and in the end was defeated by Hideyoshi in battle.
Takayama went on to serve in Hideyoshi’s invasion of Shikoku (1584) and in 1585 was transferred to Akashi (Harima province, 60,000 koku). Once there, Ukon, as he had at Takatsuki, set about converting the population, an activity that enraged the local Buddhist monks but drew no immediate attention from Hideyoshi.6
Takayama went on to serve in Hideyoshi’s invasion of Kyushu in 1587, but this campaign proved to be Takayama’s last. Hideyoshi had finished breaking the power of the armed monks (an effort Takayama had assisted him with in 1585-86) in the Yamato region; now the de facto ruler of Japan turned on Christianity. Takayama was known to be a dyed-in-the-wool Christian, and was therefore considered untrustworthy. Even before the Kyushu campaign had been wrapped up, Ukon was deprived of his fief and forced to find shelter under Konishi Yukinaga, a much more powerful Christian lord who was awarded a substantial fee in Hyuga. Ukon ended up wandering all the way to the Hokuriku, where he sought service with the Maeda family in Kaga province. In 1588 Maeda Toshiie accepted him as a retainer, an interesting turnaround in Ukon’s career poorly explored by western historians. Over the next decade, Hideyoshi gradually stepped up a program of persecution against Christianity in Japan that was only temporarily halted by the Taiko’s death in 1598. The short respite was ended by a Tokugawa edict in 1614 that finally banned Christianity in its entirety, and ordered the expulsion of all missionaries and those samurai who refused to recant their faith.
Though Maeda Toshitsune feared Ukon would fight rather than leave the country, Takayama peacefully complied and on 8 November 1614 departed for Manila. He arrived later that month and was greeted warmly by the Jesuits there, but died of illness just 40 days afterwards.
Takayama Ukon was a rather controversial figure, considered by the Jesuits as a pillar of the Christian faith in Japan and by some Japanese (contemporary and modern) as a symbol of the duplicity and heavy-handedness of Christianity in the Sengoku era. At the time of Ukon’s transfer to Akashi some 18,000 of Takatsuki’s population (of 25,000) were said to have been Christian, an achievement much lauded by the Jesuits and scorned by many Japanese as proof of forced conversion. Additionally, Ukon’s betrayal of both Wada Korenaga and Araki Murashige were looked down upon, to say nothing of his questionable conduct at Shizugatake. Conversely, Takayama fought gallantly at Yamazaki and was a noted tea man, practicing that art with Sen no Rikyû as Minami no Bô. He was also supposed to have converted Kuroda Kanbei to Christianity and been respected by as many of his contemporaries as not, as his admittance into the service of the Maeda would seem to indicate. Takayama Ukon Shigetomo, whether considered a conniver or saint, provides an interesting case study of the rise and fall of a Sengoku warrior.
1 'Ukon' was in fact part of an honorific title he received later in life; as he is best known as Takayama Ukon, this name will be used for the remained of the text.
2 Nobunaga was rather distracted at this time with affairs in Kyoto and elsewhere; additionally, as the Wada had come into his service as a result of championing Ashikaga Yoshiaki, he was possibly not sorry to see them go. This was the same year Nobunaga banished Yoshiaki and brought the Ashikaga shogunate to an end.
3 Little further mention is made in most histories of Takayama Tomoteru, who is also known by his Christian name, Darie. He evidently gave up his Christian faith and retired, passing away around 1596.
4 It may be of some interest to note that later, during Nobunaga's funeral, Takayama refused to light incense at his mortuary alter or say traditional Buddhist prayers (due to Christian beliefs). This does not appear to have sat so well with Hideyoshi, and may have gone some way towards fostering disquiet between the two men.
5 Takayama is traditionally accused of cowardice during this action in arguably biased Japanese histories, an accusation difficult to substantiate one way or the other. It seems that had Takayama been guilty of blatant cowardice, Hideyoshi might have taken serious issue with him (as he would later with Otomo Yoshimune and others who broke before the enemy). In fact, Takayama's defeat further drew Sakuma Morimasa's neck out, much to Hideyoshi's benefit-a fact which, on the same token, may have spared Takayama a certain amount of disgrace. Tagami, incidentally, was held by Hashiba Hidenaga, Hideyoshi's half brother.
6 It remains a point of debate as to whether or not Takayama engaged in forced conversions at either Takatsuki or Akashi-if not both locations
Wisdom from Early Japan
Battle
Fate is in Heaven, the armor is on the breast, success is with the legs. Go to the battlefield firmly confident of victory, and you will come home with no wounds whatever. Engage in combat fully determined to die and you will be alive; wish to survive in the battle and you will surely meet death. When you leave the house determined not to see it again you will come home safely; when you have any thought of returning you will not return. You may not be in the wrong to think that the world is always subject to change, but the warrior must not entertain this way of thinking, for his fate is always determined.
Uesugi Kenshin (1530-1578)1
When Lord [Ryûzôji] Takanobu was at the Battle of Bungo, a messenger came from the enemy camp bearing sake and food. Takanobu wanted to partake of this quickly, but the men at his side stopped him, saying, "Presents from the enemy are likely to be poisoned. This is not something that a general should eat."
Takanobu heard them out and then said, "Even if it is poisoned, how much of an effect would that have on things? Call the messenger here!" He then broke open the barrel right in front of the messenger, drank three large cups of sake, offered the messenger one too, gave him a reply, and sent him back to his camp.
Yamamoto Tsunetomo2
The warrior doesn't care if he's called a beast or a dog; the main thing is winning.
Asakura Norikage (Soteki) (1474-1552) 3
The European Prespective
The Japanese are in general of a melancholy disposition and humor. Moved by this natural inclination they thus take much delight and pleasure in lonely and nostalgic spots, woods with shady groves, cliffs and rocky places, solitary birds, torrents of fresh water flowing down from rocks, and in every kind of solitary thing that is imbued with nature and free from all artificiality. All this fills their souls with the same inclination and melancholy, as well as a certain nostalgic feeling with the results therefrom.
João Rodriques (1561-1633)4
The Japanese have a high opinion of themselves because they think no other nation can compare with them as regards weapons and valour, and so they look down on all foreigners. They greatly prize and value their arms, and prefer to have good weapons, decorated with gold and silver, more than anything else in the world... Never in my life have I met people who rely so much on their arms.
St. Francis Xavier (1506-1552)5
Their way of writing is very different from ours because they write from the top of the page down to the bottom. I asked Paul [Anjiro] why they did not write in our way and he asked me why we did not write in their way? He explained that as the head of a man is at the top and his feet are at the bottom, so too a man should write from top to bottom.
St. Francis Xavier (1506-1552)6
Learning
We learn about the sayings and deeds of the men of old in order to entrust ourselves to entrust ourselves to their wisdom and prevent selfishness. When we throw off our own bias, follow the sayings of the ancients, and confer with other people, matters should go well and without mishap. Lord [Nabeshima] Katsushige borrowed from the wisdom of Lord Naoshige. This is mentioned in the Ohanashikikigaki. We should be grateful for his concern.
Moreover, there was a certain man who engaged a number of his younger brothers as retainers, and whenever he visited Edo or the Kamigata area, he would have them accompany him. As he consulted with them everyday on both private and public matters, it is said that he was without mishap.
Yamamoto Tsunetomo7
…all samurai ought certainly apply themselves to [the study of military science]. But a bad use can be made of this study to puff oneself up and disparage one's colleagues by a lot of high-flown but incorrect arguments that only mislead the young and spoil their spirit. For this kind gives forth a wordy discourse that may appear to be correct and proper enough, but actually he is striving for effect and thinking only of his own advantage, so the result is the deterioration of his character and the loss of the real samurai spirit. This is a fault arising from a superficial study of the subject, so those who begin it should never be satisfied to go only halfway but persevere until they understand all the secrets and only then return to their former simplicity and live a quiet life.
There is an old saying that bean sauce that smells of bean sauce is no good and so it is with the military pedants.
Daidoji Yuzan8
Learning is to a man as the leaves and branches are to a tree, and it can be said that he should not be without it. Learning is not only reading books, however, but is rather something that we study to integrate with our own way of life.
One who is born into the house of a warrior, regardless of his rank or class, first aquaints himself with a man of military feats and achievements in loyalty, and, in listening to just one of his dictums each day, will in a month know 30 precepts. Needless to say, if in a year he learns 300 precepts, at the end of that time he will be much the better.
Thus, a man can divide his mind into three parts: he should throw out those thoughts that are evil, take up those ideas that are good, and become intimate with his own wisdom… I would honor and call wise the man who penetrates this principle, though he lacks the knowledge of a single Chinese character. As for those who are learned in other matters, I would avoid them regardless of how deep their knowledge might be. That is how shallow and untalented this monk is.
Takeda Shingen (1521-1573)9
When a man in the beginning of his life is ignorant of everything, he has no scruples, finds no obstacles, no inhibitions. But after a while he starts to learn, and becomes timid, cautious, and begins to feel something choking in his mind, which prevents him from going ahead as he used to before he had any learning. Learning is needed, but the point is not to become its slave. You must be its master, so that you can use it when you want it.
Yagyu Munemori (1571-1646) (as interpreted by D. T. Suzuki)10
Marriage
Marriage is the union symbolizing the yin and yang, and it cannot be entered into lightly. The thirty-eighth hexagram k'uei [in the I ching (Book of Changes)], says "Marriage is not be contracted to create disturbance. Let the longing of male and female for each other be satisfied. If disturbance is to take hold, then the proper time will slip by." The "Peach young" poem of the Book of Odes says "When men and women observe what is correct, and marry at the proper time, there will be no unattached women in the land."
To form a factional alliance [of houses] through marriage is the root of treason.
The Buke Shohatto (article 8)11
The Martial Arts
The field of martial arts is particularly rife with flamboyant swordsmanship, with commercial popularization and profiteering on the part of both those who teach the science and those who study it. The result of this must be, as someone said, that 'amateuristic martial arts are a source of serious wounds."
Miyamoto Musashi (1584?-1645) 12
A man who has thoroughly mastered the art does not use the sword, and the opponent kills himself; when a man uses the sword, he makes it serve to give life to others. When killing is the order, it kills; when giving life is the order, it gives life. While killing there is no thought of killing, while giving life there is no thought of giving life; for in the killing or in the giving life, no Self is asserted. The man does not see 'this' or 'that'; he makes no discrimination and yet knows well what is what. He walks on water as if it were earth; he walks on the earth as if it were water. One who has attained this freedom cannot be interfered with by anybody on earth. He stands absolutely by himself.
Takuan 13
Morality
The one who does good deeds and expects to be appreciated, does something better then committing a bad deed. However, he does so for his own benefit and not for others. A truly righteous man does good deeds without letting his beneficiary know of his deeds. He does good deeds freely and does not expect that in the future someone will recognize his deeds. A monk must have resolve far greater then this. In treating all sentient beings, he must not discriminate between those who are close to him and those who are scarcely known to him.
Dôgen (1200-1253)14
…right and wrong are nothing but good and evil, for though I would not deny there is a slight difference between the terms, yet to act rightly and do good is difficult and is regarded as tiresome, whereas to act wrongly and do evil is easy and amusing, so that naturally most incline to the wrong or evil and tend to dislike the good and right. But to be thus unstable and make no distinction between right and wrong is contrary to reason, so that anyone who understands this distinction and yet does what is wrong is no proper samurai, but a raw and untaught person. And the cause of it is small capacity for self-control. Though this may not sound so bad, if we examine into its origin we find it arises from cowardice. That is why I maintain that it is essential for a samurai to refrain from wrong and cleave to what is right.
Daidoji Yuzan15
Offering prayers is for your own sake. Simply keep your mind straight and plaint, honest and law-abiding. Be respectful for those who are above you, and be compassionate to those who are below you. Accept things as they are: what you have as what you have, what you don't as what you don't. Doing so seems to accord with the Buddha and Shinto deities. Even if you don't pray, by keeping this in mind you will enjoy various deities' protection. Even if you pray, though, if your mind is crooked, you'll be abandoned by Heaven's Way. So be careful.
Hôjô Sôun (Sôunji Dono Nijuchichi Kajo article 5) 16
Parenting
There is a way of bringing up the child of a samurai. From the time of infancy one should encourage bravery and avoid trivially frightening or teasing the child. If a person is affected by cowardice as a child, it remains a lifetime scar. It is a mistake for parents to thoughtlessly make their children dread lightening, or to have them not go into dark places, or to tell them frightening things in order to stop them from crying.
Furthermore, a child will become timid if he is scolded severely.
Yamamoto Tsunetomo17
Thrift
Do not excessively covet swords and daggers made by famous masters. Even if you can own a sword or dagger worth 10,000 pieces, it can be overcome by 100 spears each worth 100 pieces. Therefore, use the 10,000 pieces to procure 100 spears, and arm 100 men with them. You can in this manner defend yourself in time of war.
Asakura Toshikage (1428-1481) (Toshikage Jushichikajo article 4)18
You can't manage the Empire properly without economy, for if those at the top are extravagant, taxes mount up and the lower orders are embarrassed, not to speak of the effect it has on military finances. But a lot of people can't understand the meaning of the word thrift, and think it means only omitting to do what you ought to do.
Tokugawa Ieyasu (1542-1616)19
Death and the Samurai
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F airly or unfairly, death has always been linked to the samurai. It is in fact the samurai's presumed affinity for death that seems to set him aside from other warriors and captures the imagination. Of course, there can be little doubt that the manner in which he viewed his own death was considered most important. But was he as obsessed by it as we have been led to believe, ready to toss his life away at a moment's notice?
Perhaps we, both Japanese and foreign, owe much of our 'death-intensive' view of the samurai to the Hagakure, a book composed in the 18th Century. Written long after the last samurai army had marched into battle, the Hagakure - and books like it - sought to stiffen the flagging martial spirit among a samurai class nearly destitute and directionless. Needless to say, a good deal of idealism found its way into the pages of these 'how-to' books, but at the same time, the wisdom contained within was (and is) often distorted or misconstrued. Perhaps the most famous example is provided in the opening chapter of the Hagakure itself…
"The Way of the Samurai is found in death. When it comes to death, there is only the quick choice of death."1
These oft-quoted lines find their way into many 'populist' books and magazines on the samurai and/or Japanese martial culture. Yet, if we read a bit further, we encounter this passage…
"We all want to live. And in large part we make our logic according to what we like. But not having attained our aim and continuing to live is cowardice. This is a thin dangerous line. To die without gaining one's aim IS a dog's death and fanaticism. But there is no shame in this. This is the substance of the Way of the Samurai. If by setting one's heart right every morning and evening, one is able to live as though his body were already dead, he gains freedom in the Way. His whole life will be without blame, and he will succeed in his calling."2
In these words we find a depth and thoughtfulness lacking to some degree from our image of the samurai and death. Another Edo samurai, Daidoji Yuzan, wrote…
"One who is a samurai must before all things keep constantly in mind…the fact that he has to die. If he is always mindful of this, he will be able to live in accordance with the paths of loyalty and filial duty, will avoid myriads of evils and adversities, keep himself free of disease and calamity and moreover enjoy a long life. He will also be a fine personality with many admirable qualities. For existence is impermanent as the dew of evening, and the hoarfrost of morning, and particularly uncertain is the life of the warrior…"3
Yet, how much can be drawn from the writings of peacetime samurai? Granted, any Edo samurai faced the prospect of suicide should he greatly displease his lord, or commit some notable transgression (the penalty for striking another with a sword in anger was often suicide). Additionally, even life in Edo Japan was fraught with all manner of hardships, including fires, earthquakes, and disease. In this respect life differed little from the days when Kamo no Chomei had written, "Where to find a place to rest? And how bring even short-lived peace to our hearts?"4
The samurai view and idea of death was shaped not so much, perhaps, from the ways of war as the realities of life. Every aspect of Japanese life was tailored to suit an existence in a land that could be shockingly and suddenly cruel. Earthquakes could topple castles, and plagues ravage the countryside. Raging fires often swept towns, leading Chomei to write, "all of man's doings are senseless / but spending his wealth / and tormenting himself / to build a house in this hazardous city / is especially foolish."5
Famine was an ever-present danger, and Chomei witnessed the especially cruel one that tormented the land from 1181-82. "There was little trade, but grain was worth more than gold / Beggars were many in the streets, clamor of suffering, sorrow filled the air / Even as you watched, stricken people walking by, would suddenly fall / so many bodies of the starved lay in the streets hard by the walls of houses / Since these were not removed there rose a dreadful stench. It was more then one could bear to look upon these rotting corpses."6 This same famine brought the Gempei war to a grinding halt, and claimed both high and low.
Over the centuries, many famous men would die not in battle but from illness, including the two great rivals Uesugi Kenshin and Takeda Shingen7 Promising young lords such as Mori Takamoto and Taira Shigemori died young and in their beds. All of this contributed to the sentiment behind the words of Daidôji Yuzan and the Japanese appreciation for fleeting beauty.
With this in mind, then, we'll take a brief look at two of the two ways a samurai might prefer to die, and how they were intertwined.
Battlefield Death
"Those who cling to life die, and those who defy death live."8 The sengoku daimyô Uesugi Kenshin left these words for his retainers just prior to his own death. The Hagakure provides a somewhat similar bit of wisdom. "A person who does not want to be struck by the enemy's arrows will have no divine protection. For a man who does not wish to be hit by the arrows of a common soldier, but rather those of a warrior of fame, there will be the protection for which he asked."9 In other words, while a peacetime samurai was free - and encouraged - to contemplate death, a fighting samurai was probably better off not thinking about it.
No samurai was ever safe from the shadow of death when at war, and many famous names fell on the battlefield. Uesugi Kenshin's own father had been killed in battle, and more then a few of his notable contemporaries would fall to an enemy's sword. Imagawa Yoshimoto, Ryûzôji Takanobu, Saitô Dosan, Uesugi Tomosada… great warlords all slain in daring enemy rushes. Many others commited suicide after their causes had been lost, from Minamoto Yorimasa of the 12th Century to Sue Harukata of the 16th. Naturally, the samurai took a somewhat philosophical approach to death, as we have already seen. Beauty, or at least an enduring pathos, could be found in the passing of a samurai. Rather then dwell on the dreary details of battlefield slaughter, let us read the closing lines to the Nô drama 'Atsumori', which recounted the death of the young Taira warrior Atsumori at the Battle of Ichi no Tani in 1184 and the later meeting of his ghost with the man who had killed him…
'Then, in time, His Majesty's ship sailed,
with the whole clan behind him in their own.
Anxious to be aboard, I sought the shore,
but all the warships and the imperial barge
stood already far, far out to sea.
I was stranded. Reining in my horse,
I halted, at a loss for what to do.
There came then, galloping behind me,
Kumagai no Jirô Naozane,
shouting, "You will not escape my arm!"
At this Atsumori wheeled his mount
and swiftly, all undaunted, drew his sword.
We first exchanged a few rapid blows,
then, still on horseback, closed to grapple, fell,
and wrestled on, upon the wave-washed strand.
But you bested me, and I was slain.
Now karma brings us face to face again.
"You are my foe!" Atsumori shouts,
lifting his sword to strike; but Kumagai,
with kindness has repaid old enmity,
calling the Name to give the spirit peace.
They at last shall be reborn together
upon one lotus throne in paradise.
Rensho (Kumagai), you were no enemy of mine.
Pray for me, O pray for my release!
Pray for me, O pray for my release! 10
It may be of some interest to note that the play 'Atsumori' was reputed to be a favorite of the often-ruthless 16th century warlord Oda Nobunaga.
The line between suicide and death in battle was often thin, especially since a certain measure of glorification was attached to the notion of perishing on the battlefield. Here we find the 'nobility of failure' Ivan Morris once wrote about, the gallant death of the losing warrior. The Battle of Nagashino in 1575 provides us with a moving example. The Takeda army had been crushed by the combined forces of Oda Nobunaga and Tokugawa Ieyasu and now faced complete annihilation, with no less then ten thousand men already dead. The venerable Takeda general Baba Nobufusa had somehow survived the morning's slaughter and now led the remains of his command in a doomed rear guard action.
Nobufusa rushed a man to [Takeda] Katsuyori to say, "Sir, leave this place at once. I beg you. I will stay here and die." He stayed on with eighty horsemen and lost all of them. He climbed a hill and, seeing that Katsuyori was now far away, shouted loudly to the enemy, "I am Baba, Governor of Mino. Kill me if you can and win a big reward!" Enemies gave him multiple stabs, and he died.11
The death of Nobufusa is given added poignancy by the knowledge that he and the other old Takeda generals had urged Katsuyori not to attack the allied army the night before. When Katsuyori ignored their advice, Baba and his colleagues dutifully led their men from the front and were killed almost to a man.
Another doomed warrior whose advice had been ignored prior to the start of his last battle was Taira Tomomori, perhaps the greatest of the Taira generals. With the final confrontation of the Gempei War imminent, Tomomori had urged his lord, Munemori, to dispose of a certain general whose loyalty he questioned. Munemori rejected his suggestion, and during the course of the Battle of Dan no Ura (1185) that very general betrayed the Taira cause. With all hope lost, Tomomori resolved to end his own life.
"I have seen enough," said the New Middle Counselor Tomomori. "It is time to take my life." He summoned his foster brother, Iga no Heinaizaemon Ienaga. "What do you say? You will stand by your promise, won't you?"
"Of course." Ienaga said.
Ienaga assisted the New Middle Counselor into a second suit of armor and donned another himself, and the two leaped into the sea with clasped hands. More then twenty samurai took one another by the hand and sank in the same place, determined not to stay behind after their master was gone. 12
Note that Tomomori's retainers were quick to follow him in death, an impulsive reaction not at all uncommon, especially under such devestating conditions.
In a marked contrast to the resignation of Tomomori is the head of the Taira, Munemori, and his son…
…Munemori and his son Kiyomune lingered at the side of their boat, looking around in bewilderment, with no apparent thought of jumping. Some of the Taira samurai, shamed by the minister's conduct, pushed him overboard under pretense of brushing past him. Kiyomune promptly leaped after him.
All the others had entered the water wearing heavy armor, with weighty objects borne on their backs or held in their hands to make sure of sinking. This father and son had done nothing of the kind; moreover, they were excellent swimmers with no stomach for drowning. Thus it was that they stayed afloat…As the two swam around, watching each other, Ise no Saburo Yoshimori suddenly rowed up in a small craft and dragged Kiyomune out with a rake. Munemori looked on without attempting to drown himself, and Yoshimori dragged him out too.13
Munemori's impulse towards self-preservation is altogether human, but occasionally death was actively avoided for the greater good of the cause. This is nowhere better illustrated then by the actions of Kusunoki Masashige, the famous Imperial loyalist of the early 14th Century. He is particularly well remembered for engineering two classic defensive stands, at Akasaka and Chihaya, where he tenaciously resisted much larger enemy armies. The Taiheki records the events surrounding the fall of Akasaka…
Kusunoki had built this castle in great haste, with no time to prepare adequate provisions. In a mere twenty days after the battle had started and the castle was surrounded, there were only four or five days' worth of provisions left in the castle. So Masashige faced his men and said:
"We've won several battles and destroyed countless enemies. But their number is so great they don't think anything of it. Meanwhile we're running out of food and there isn't any rescue force. Since I was the first among the soldiers of this country to rise with a decision to help his Majesty unify the land, I wouldn't hesitate to give up my life if the time were right and the act was just. Still, a courageous warrior is someone who takes precautions on an important occasion and chooses to plot things out. For this reason I, Masashige, would like to let this castle be taken and make the enemy assume I have committed suicide. Let me explain why.
"If they find out that I have commited suicide, the men from the Eastern provinces will be overjoyed and return to their lands. When they have, I'll come out and fight; if they come back here I'll withdraw into deep mountains. If I annoy the forces from the East in this fashion four or five times, they're bound to become exhausted. This is how by preserving myself I plan to destroy the enemy."14
Masashige's decision allowed him to embarrass the Eastern forces at Chihaya, but in the end he was ordered to a battle he knew he could not win. Dutifully accepting the wishes of the Emperor, who desired a decisive battle to end the war in one stroke, Masashige prepared to depart for Minatogawa, first visiting with his eleven-year-old son…
"…If you retain a single word of mine in your ear, please do not go against what I now have to say. I think the coming battle will decide the fate of our land, and this will be the last time for me to see your face in this life.
"When people learn that Masashige has been killed in battle, assume that our land is to be run by lord [Ashikaga] Takauji. But even if that happens, do not destroy our loyalty of many years and surrender to save your own life. As long as a young man remains alive in our clan, hide yourself near Mt. Kongo and fight the enemy…that will be your first filial duty…" 15
Masashige then departed for the battle where, as he had predicted, his side was defeated. Surrounded by the enemy, Masashige commited suicide. His son, Masatsura, took his father's parting words to heart, and carried on his fight on behalf of the 'Southern Court'. Sadly, Masatsura himself fell in battle, but not before leaving the names of his kinsmen and these lines etched on a temple door that remain to this day…
I could not return, I presume,
So I will keep my name
Among those who are dead with bows. 16
As we have seen, a meaningful or dramatic suicide (or de facto suicide) was one of the ways in which a samurai could achieve posthumous fame. Here are some other men noted for the manner in which they died…
Taira Noritsune (d.1185). At the same Battle of Dan no Ura where Tomomori would drown himself, Noritsune was determined to take the head of his clan's great foil, Minamoto Yoshitsune. He jumped from boat to boat, seeking out his quarry, until he finally shouted a challenge in frustration. Three Minamoto warriors came forward, seeking to subdue him, but straightaway suffered the loss of one of their number kicked into the sea. Noritsune then grappled with his other two assailants. '…he clamped the second man, Sanemitsu, under his left arm, and the younger brother, Jiro, under his right, gave them both a mighty squeeze, and sprang into the waves, saying, "All right, come on! Be my companions in the Shide Mountains."17 He was twenty-six years old.'
Shiaku Saburozaemon (d.1333). Saburozaemon was the son of a low ranking member of the Hojo Bakufu. In 1333 the Hojo were defeated by the supporters of the Emperor Go-Daigo and Kamakura was attacked. Saburozaemon's father decided to commit suicide along with his masters, but advised his young son to escape and assume the life of a Buddhist monk. Saburozaemon refused. "Even though I have not been actively and personally connected with our master, as your son I have been brought up under the benevolent protection of his grace. If I already followed the life of monkhood it would be a different matter. Having been born into the family of a samurai, how can I leave you and our master and save myself to become a monk? No shame is greater then this. If you are to share the destiny of our master, let me be your guide into the next world."18 Before he had even finished speaking, he slit his own belly open. He was followed by his father, who first wrote the lines… "Holding forth this sword, I cut vacuity in twain; In the midst of the great fire, A stream of refreshing breeze!'19
Makara Naotaka (d.1570) This great warrior, better known by his title of Jûrôzaemon, rode out to cover the retreat of the Asakura after they had given way to the forces of Tokugawa Ieyasu and Oda Nobunaga at Anegawa in 1570. He killed a certain Ogasawara Nagatada in single combat, then, aided by his son and a long sword, bought his clan as much time as possible . Finally surrounded in the shallow waters of the Anegawa, Makara and his son Naomoto were cut down - but not before the Asakura had made good their escape.
Matsunaga Hisahide (d.1577) Having failed in a rebellion against Oda Nobunaga, Matsunaga was faced with committing suicide even as enemy troops assailed the walls of his castle. It happened that Matsunaga was a tea master of some note, and knew that Nobunaga had always coveted his famous teakettle 'Hiragumo'. Hisahide therefore determined that Nobunaga would be denied the two things he wanted most from him. He ordered that, after he had commited suicide, his head and Hiragumo were to be fastened together and blown apart with gunpowder.
Nobunaga's reaction to losing both is unknown.
Nishima Morinobu (d.1582) Morinobu was the 5th son of the late warlord Takeda Shingen. His elder brother Katsuyori had lost the aforementioned Battle of Nagashino in 1575, and now Oda Nobunaga's troops were pouring into the Takeda lands. Almost everywhere the long-since disillusioned Takeda men were deserting, but at Takato Castle Morinobu held out. Though they resisted wave after wave, the defenders, which included all of the castle's able-bodied women, were finally worn down, and Morinobu mounted the battlements and shouted down at the attackers. He listed Nobunaga's crimes, and predicted the timely downfall of the Oda, then slit his belly in full view of both besieger and besieged. His head was spirited away in the ensuing confusion, and, in fact, Oda Nobunaga was dead just a few months later.
Sanada Yukimura (d.1615) Few other samurai warriors earned the fame accorded to Sanada, whose greatest glory came in the service of the defenders of Hideyori's Osaka Castle. Thanks in part to Sanada's skill, Osaka Castle held out against Tokugawa Ieyasu's initial assaults, and a peaceful settlement was arranged. Yet this peace was to be undone by treachery on the part of Tokugawa and indecision on the part of Hideyori and his mother. Faced with another siege they stood less chance of winning, Sanada and the other defenders of the castle elected to make a bold attack, which culminated in the Battle of Tennôji. The fighting was savage and often much in doubt, but finally, the Osaka troops began to give way. Sanada's men had borne more then their share of the fighting, and their leader, realizing that their cause was lost, slumped onto his campstool. A Tokugawa warrior burst forth and leveled a spear at him.
Sanada looked up wearily. "I am Sanada Yukimura, an adversary no doubt worthy of you. But I am too exhausted to fight any more."20 With that he took off his helmet and exposed his neck, allowing the Tokugawa man to take his head. The victor did not gain great fame for his prize, and Sanada was remembered by all as a warrior and man of the first rank.
Worthy of mention are Nitta Yoshisada, whom legend says had enough willpower in his body to stab an enemy warrior to death even after he had slit his own belly and been burned; and Miura Yoshinobu (d.1518), who is reported to have commited suicide by chopping his own head off!
Seppuku

The act of slitting one's own belly is such an unbelievable way in which to commit suicide that it is possibly the most famous element of the samurai mythos. Known in the West as hara-kiri (in fact a 'vulgar' expression probably never commonly used by the samurai themselves), the origin of disembowlment as suicide is impossible to pinpoint but the first notable acts were provided by Minamoto Tametomo and Minamoto Yorimasa in the latter part of the 12th Century. The original motivations for this method of death may well have been purely practical. Miura Yoshinobu's example aside, cutting off one's own head is a bit difficult, and as the spirit was felt to reside in the stomach, slitting the belly open was felt to be the most straightforward (if not quickest) way to die. Over the centuries, the philosophy behind seppuku was refined. One samurai wrote many centuries after the deaths of Minamoto Tametomo and Yorimasa that the spirit of a man was like that of an apple's core, unseen and locked within the skin.
The apple certainly exists, but to the core [soul] this existence as yet seems inadequate; if words cannot endorse it, then the only way to endorse it is with the eyes. Indeed, for the core the only sure mode of existence is to exist and to see at the same time. There is only one method of solving this contradiction. It is for a knife to be plunged deep into the apple so that it is split open and the core is exposed to the light-to the same light, that is, as the surface skin. Yet then the existence of the cut apple falls into fragments; the core of the apple sacrifices existence for the sake of seeing. 21
The above was clearly an esoteric point of view. Others have written that the act of belly slitting required an exceptional bravery, and over the years it became a 'privilege' reserved for the samurai. Commoners might hang or drown themselves, whilst samurai women might slit their own throats; only samurai could commit Seppuku. To be simply executed was a mark of particular shame, and generally reserved for notorious traitors.
By the Edo Period, the act of seppuku had become a fully developed ritual with Shinto undertones.
First, tatami edged with white would be set out, upon which a large white cushion was placed. Witnesses would arrange themselves discreetly to one side, depending on how important the coming suicide was considered.
The samurai, often garbed in a white kimono, would kneel on the pillow in formal style on his heels, hopefully in a composed manner. Just over a meter behind and to the left of the samurai knelt his kaishakunin, or 'second'. The second was often a close friend of the deceased, although his duty was not a popular one. His job was to prevent the samurai committing suicide from experiencing undo suffering by cutting the doomed man's head off once he had slit his belly. Botching this duty could be a shameful disgrace, and a steady hand was required.
In front of the samurai lay a knife on a lacquered tray. When he felt ready, the samurai would loosen the folds of his kimono and expose his belly. He would then lift the knife with one hand and unsheathe it with the other, setting the sheathe to one side. When he had prepared himself, he would drive the knife into the left side of the stomach, then draw it across to the right. The blade would then be turned in the wound and brought upward. Many samurai did not have to endure this last, unbelievable agony, as the second would lop their heads off at the first sign of pain. The cut carried out to its finish was known as the jumonji, or 'crosswise cut', and to perform it in its entirety was considered a particularly impressive seppuku.
Needless to say, one's frame of mind was of particular importance when approaching this act. The Hagakure and other Edo works relate stories of samurai losing their composure just prior to committing suicide, and in some cases having to be forcibly decapitated. Samurai were, after all, only human, and perhaps only through a lifetime of preparation could seppuku be faced with the prerequisite coolness.
Why would a samurai be expected or decide to slit open his own belly? The reasons are many, and much is made of them elsewhere. We'll content ourselves here with the briefest of lists of those reasons not involving a direct punishment…
Junshi: this act of suicide involved following one's lord in death. Not entirely uncommon in the days of open samurai warfare, junshi was banned in the Edo Period as wasteful. The last famous example was that of the General Nogi Maresue in 1912 following the death of the Emperor Meiji.
Kanshi: Suicide through remonstration. Not common, this involved killing one's self to make a point to a lord when all other forms of persuasion had failed. Perhaps the best known example of this is provided by Hirate Nakatsukasa Kiyohide (1493-1553), who commited suicide to make a youthful and irreverant Oda Nobunaga change his ways.
Sokotsu-shi: Here, a samurai would kill himself as a way of making amends for some transgression. This is possibly the best-known reason for seppuku, and has perhaps been popularized far out of proportion to its frequency. One well-known instance involves the Takeda general Yamamoto Kansuke Haruyuki (1501-1561), who flung himself into the enemy after his plans had put his lord in grave danger. Badly wounded, he withdrew from the fray and commited suicide.
Finally, it should be remembered that as ever-present as death may have been to many samurai (of Oda Nobuhide's many sons, for example, eight died untimely deaths-including the famous Nobunaga) most died the old-fashioned way: of old age. There are numerous examples of famous long-lived samurai, including Môri Motonari (74), Môri Terumoto (72), Nabeshima Naoshige (82), Ryûzôji Iekane (92), Sanada Nobuyuki (92), Shimazu Yoshihiro (84), and Ukita Hideie (90).
The noted swordsman Tsukahara Bokuden probably best summed up the philosophy of death as it related to the samurai with the words...
For the samurai to learn
There's only one thing,
One last thing -
To face death unflinchingly.22
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Zen
Zen has no secrets other than seriously thinking about life and death.
Takeda Shingen (1521-1573) 20
All my life I taught Zen to the people -
Nine and seventy years.
Who he sees not things as they are
Will never know Zen.
Enni Ben'en (1201-1280)21
1. Lu Sources of Japanese History pg.8 - 9.
2. Lu Sources of Japanese History pg. 30 - 31
3. Sato Legends of the samurai pg. 5
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