Years earlier, Ieyasu had agreed to send his two daughters to Kaminogo in a peace deal with Nagamochi. This was standard procedure in a country where no one trusted anyone and was a way to help maintain allegiances. If everyone behaved, the families wouldn’t be touched. But things had now changed. With Ieyasu and Nagamochi head to head once again, Ieyasu was well aware that just one wrong move would see his daughters murdered. It was checkmate. To break the impasse, Ieyasu would need to do something extraordinary.
However, while his samurai warriors excelled in battle, their skills were unsuitable for situations such as this. Their honour-driven code of bushidō (the ‘way of the warrior’) didn’t allow them to use the tools of deception or dirty tricks. They were only able to face their enemy head-on in an honourable battle. In a situation that required unconventional guerrilla tactics, this wouldn’t do. As such, Ieyasu began to look at another option: the shadow warriors, also known as the ‘Ninja’.
The Ninja were the special forces of feudal Japan, who excelled in unconventional warfare. Renowned for deception, espionage and murder, they moved in small teams and exploited speed, aggression and surprise, all the while apparently being invisible. Such was their prowess that some regarded them as supernatural beings. But not all Ninja were created equal. It was the Ninja of Iga who were considered the finest purveyors of their craft.
Cut off from the rest of the country, Iga was situated on a high mountain plateau, where the river rolled through its valley, filling it with mist and giving it an otherworldly feel. Its people were also very different. Fierce, resourceful mountain folk, they were proud of their independence, and what they lacked in riches they made up for with their use of their surroundings, making a little go a long way.
It was in these rural hinterlands and highland villages that the art of the Ninja was perfected over many centuries. Most boys would spend their childhood learning the martial arts, as well as mastering the famous samurai sword, the spear, bow and, later in Ninja history, guns. They would also be expected to ride well and to swim. Yet perhaps their most vital lesson was learning ninjutsu, the art of invisibility, which encouraged them to blend into their surroundings before launching an attack. Any budding Ninja would also have to learn about such matters as explosives and the blending of poisons, and become an expert in fieldcraft and survival.
Sent out into the wilderness, the young boys were exposed to the freezing temperatures at high altitude and had to learn to live off the land for an indefinite period. In this environment, the Iga Ninja became an expert at optimising their diet to resist cold and hunger. Hunting was also a vitally important training technique. This taught the Ninja how to track and study the habits, movements and routines of his prey, all without making a sound, before striking when it was at its most vulnerable.
While the Ninja of Iga were considered the best in Japan, among them was one member who towered above all others – a 20-year-old rising star called Hattori Hanzo. A former samurai, Hanzo had mastered the Ninja craft like no other. Said to be fearless during operations, some also added teleportation, psychokinesis and precognition to his ever-growing list of skills. It was for this reason he was nicknamed the ‘Demon’. Yet there was one particular skill in which Hanzo was said to excel – penetrating castles and freeing hostages. Knowing this, Ieyasu hired Hanzo and his men to rescue his daughters from Kaminogo Castle.
First, Hanzo needed to gather intelligence in order to decide his strategy. Like the Assassins before him, as soon as he arrived in the surrounding area he planted his Ninja into the local villages. There, they posed as a sect of Zen monks, who played the flute and provided prayers and blessings. This ruse had proven successful in the past and Nagamochi also fell for it, inviting Hanzo’s sleeper agents into his castle undetected.
With the intelligence they provided, combined with his unrelenting surveillance of the castle, Hanzo soon established the nature of its defences and its routines. He decided to enact a pincer movement, using his forces on the inside and outside to rescue Ieyasu’s daughters, and take the castle, all in one swoop.
Now Hanzo needed to wait for the right conditions in which to strike. The Ninja never moved on a full moon in order to avoid detection. Tradition dictated that they had to wait for eight days after the moon, or eight days before it, to ensure maximum darkness. Like most Ninja, he also followed Shintoism, a religious practice focused on the natural world. For the Ninja going on operations, it was crucial to become at one with nature and blend into their environment. While they would utilise camouflage and clothing, much like the Navy SEALs and SAS do today, they also eliminated any shapes that could give them away, removed shine from their forehead, nose or weapons, and ensured any shadow or silhouette was kept to a minimum. Other tricks, such as leaving no sign of disturbance and walking lightly, almost like a ballet dancer, to avoid making any noise, were also crucial.
Hanzo also used an ancient practice called Kuji Kiri, one of the spiritual arts that honed concentration and produced complete psychological detachment from fear. A Ninja would form nine different shapes with his hands in order to make his mind strong, harnessing power, energy, harmony, healing, intuition, awareness, force, creation and Zen as he did so.
With everything in place, Hanzo stood outside the castle walls in the darkness. Dressed all in black, with only his eyes visible, he forced some iron spikes into the clay, then steadily began to climb to the top. But scaling walls in silence and secrecy was the easy part. Hanzo now had to move unseen through a castle full of soldiers on patrol. Thankfully, his sleeper agents had already fed him details of all the patrol movements.
Gliding through the shadows, running on the balls of his feet to eliminate sound while crouching low, he weaved in and out of columns, balancing his sword’s scabbard on the tip of his blade as he did so. This extended his range of feel by a good 6ft. If it should touch an enemy in the darkness, Hanzo would let the scabbard fall before plunging his sword into them.
Following one sentry from behind, careful to ensure the sound of his footsteps matched his enemy’s, he suddenly whipped the base of his fist in an upwards stroke to the base of the sentry’s neck. The blow was so powerful it lifted the sentry’s skull free of his cervical vertebrae and severed his spinal cord. Death was instantaneous. When any guard should move his way, he hid in plain view, in the shadows, not moving, not daring to stare at the enemy in case they might sense his presence. But there was one fight he couldn’t avoid. Outside Ieyasu’s daughters’ room were two guards. To get inside, Hanzo needed to take them down quickly, and quietly.
In a flash of movement, he grabbed one from behind and slit his throat with a dagger, then, as the other turned, he slashed at him with his shorter ninjato sword, also known as the ‘sword of darkness’. At this, he signalled to his sleeper agents that it was time to make their move. They proceeded to set the castle alight, as a signal to Ieyasu’s forces that they could now attack.
As hordes of samurai overwhelmed the castle defences, Hanzo looked through the crack in the door to ensure there were no more guards in the room. Not taking any chances he stood to the side and slowly opened the door, being careful to avoid his shadow moving into the room, giving him away. But the room was clear, with only Ieyasu’s two daughters present. As mayhem erupted inside and outside the castle, Hanzo proceeded to smuggle them to safety, while Ieyasu defeated his rival. This operation not only cemented Hanzo’s reputation as the best Ninja in Japan, it also saw him build an alliance with Ieyasu that, in years to come, would prove to be crucial.
Seventeen years after the siege of Kaminogo Castle, Japan continued to be torn apart by feuding warlords. However, one aimed to bring the country under his sole command, by any means possible. The genocidal maniac, Oda Nobunaga, and his gigantic army crushed all who stood in their way, gaining a reputation unmatched in all of Japan’s bloody history. Despite this threat, the people of Iga refused to be cowed.
Faced with such disobedience, Nobunaga ordered his forces, le
d by his son, Oda Nobukatsu, to invade Iga. Nobukatsu seemed to think that all his ruthless band of samurai had to do was enter Iga and all would bow before them. He could not have been more mistaken. Walking through the main forest path of Iga, Nobukatsu had underestimated his foe, overestimated his own capabilities, while he did not know the lie of the land. Each mistake would prove to be fatal, as watching the samurai’s every move from the shadows was Hanzo and his Ninja.
Before making their move, the Ninja waited for the valley to become enshrouded in mist from the river. Thus, in the early morning gloom, Hanzo called for them to strike. Seemingly appearing from out of nowhere they attacked from all sides, overwhelming the confused samurai, causing chaos. Such was the panic and confusion that the samurai began to blindly lash out with their swords, cutting each other down in the process. Soon the only survivor was Nobukatsu, and rather than face the Ninja, or fall on his sword, he made a run for it. The almost total annihilation of Nobunaga’s samurai was one of the Ninja’s greatest triumphs, but it would also unleash forces that would test the men of Iga as never before.
Within days, the Ninja spy network reported that Nobunaga was mustering the biggest army Japan had ever seen. Columns were now streaming from every region with one order: destroy Iga. The Ninja knew they couldn’t defeat so huge an army. Again, taking their cue from the Assassins, there was only one solution – Nobunaga had to be assassinated.
The man appointed for this high-risk job was Ishikawa Goemon. To the people of Iga, Goemon was almost a Robin Hood figure. Renowned for stealing from the rich to give to the poor, he was also regarded as an exceptional Ninja. However, his most important qualification for this operation was that it was deeply personal for him. In 1573, his whole family had been murdered by Nobunaga’s men and since that fateful day he had sworn revenge.
But killing Nobunaga was the toughest assignment ever faced by a Ninja assassin. The warlord was constantly surrounded by bodyguards, while he also employed Ninja from Iga’s rivals. What’s more, Nobunaga knew that Iga would be plotting to kill him, so he was ready for them.
Again, this was a situation that could not be met head-on. It would need cunning and thinking outside the box. As such, Goemon believed that poisoning Nobunaga might be his best option, especially if he wanted to avoid detection and protect the people of Iga from retribution. In such situations, the Ninja would typically poison their target’s food or water supply. But Nobunaga employed a host of food tasters to protect him from this very threat. Yet Goemon came up with a simple, but ingenious, plan.
Just as Hanzo had proved at Kaminogo Castle, infiltrating a fortress was easy work for a well-prepared Ninja. Choosing his moment carefully, Goemon ensured he blended in with his surroundings, and using the intelligence provided by a sleeper cell he also knew what to avoid and where to go.
Navigating his way across the roof of the Azuchi Castle fortress, keeping low to avoid any silhouette, he entered above the royal apartment complex. Making a small hole in the ceiling, above where Nobunaga was sleeping, Goemon took out a long piece of string, gently threaded it through the hole, and left it hovering just above his target’s open mouth. Taking out his bottle of poison, he applied a few drops to the top of the rope and watched as the deadly liquid slowly trickled downwards. But, at the very last moment, just as it was about to drop into Nobunaga’s open mouth, he turned his head, leaving the poison to splash against his cheek. Waking with a start, Nobunaga saw the piece of string, as well as Goemon above him.
With the alarm raised, Goemon knew his mission had failed. All he could do now was try to escape the palace alive using all of his Ninja skills. As guards gave chase, he threw small steel spikes, known as caltrops, on the floor. This slowed some of his pursuers but the samurai bodyguard still gave chase. Reaching into his pockets, Goemon grabbed a handful of shuriken Ninja stars and launched them at his enemy. The pointed ends embedded themselves into his pursuers’ flesh and sent them writhing in agony to the ground.
Yet Goemon was still not safe. As he turned a corner, he appeared to have entered a dead end. Hearing the ever-nearing footsteps of the samurai, and knowing he couldn’t fight them all, he took out a special mix of gunpowder, threw it to the floor and lit it. Soon the area was a sea of smoke, and Goemon was able to creep right past the samurai undetected, and finally make good his escape.
My own family was once involved in a high-profile assassination. In 1327, my ancestor Roger Mortimer was accused of murdering Edward II by sticking a red-hot poker into His Majesty’s anus. Mortimer was apparently the lover of the king’s wife, Queen Isabella, and this was a chance for them to rule together. However, Roger was hanged, drawn and quartered for his crimes, after being arrested by Edward III in 1330.
Unlike Edward II, Nobunaga survived his assassination attempt and now went on the warpath. Taking personal command of his massive army, and enlisting rival Ninja from far and wide, he unleashed them against Iga, giving one order: spare no one.
Soon Iga was overwhelmed by over 60,000 of Nobunaga’s men, who destroyed all homes and villages, while they also slaughtered Ninja, women, children and monks. This was nothing less than an attempted genocide, the likes of which Japan had never seen. When he was finished, the Iga people had been almost totally eradicated.
Thankfully, some Ninja, including Hanzo, escaped to the hills. However, hunted down by Nobunaga’s thugs and with no land to return to, they were unable to offer their services elsewhere as everyone was aware that the Iga Ninja were wanted men. All they could seemingly hope for was to survive day by day.
Just as all seemed lost, Hanzo heard some incredible news. In a palace coup, Nobunaga had been assassinated by his vassal Akechi Mitsuhide. His successor, Toyotomi Hideyoshi, now sought to wipe out all of Nobunaga’s allies, one of whom was Tokugawa Ieyasu.
While many of the Ninja thought they could now relax and maybe even return home, Hanzo spotted an opportunity that could see them rise again like never before. With the once powerful Ieyasu hunted down and unable to get home, Hanzo told his fellow Ninja that they must help him. While Ieyasu was an ally of Nobunaga, he was also a friend of the Iga Ninja. If they could help him now, during his moment of greatest need, then the Ninja would have a powerful friend for life. His men reluctantly agreed. This could be their salvation.
Making contact with Ieyasu, Hanzo and the Iga Ninja helped him to escape back home to Mikawa, through the perilous mountain regions of Koga and Iga. But lying in wait for them was a hunter-killer unit of samurai, who aimed to slay Ieyasu and finish off the Ninja once and for all. In the ambush in the snow, a vicious fight broke out. While the samurai hacked and swiped at them with their swords, the Ninja were far too quick and agile. Dodging the blows, they proceeded to take down the samurai one by one. Forcing the samurai to retreat, the Ninja were able to guard Ieyasu all the way back to Mikawa.
In the years that followed, Ieyasu regrouped and rebuilt his power base with the help of Hanzo and his Ninja, who now guarded him at all times. Incredibly, in 1600, Ieyasu assumed complete control of a united and peaceful Japan, ushering in a golden shogun dynasty that would last for the next 265 years. It also guaranteed the survival of the Iga Ninja, who continued to guard Ieyasu and his descendants over the coming centuries.
To this day, the legend of Hattori Hanzo and his Iga Ninja lives on. In Tokyo’s Imperial Palace (formerly the shogun’s palace), there is a gate called Hanzo’s Gate; there is also the Hanzomon subway line, which runs from Hanzomon Station, in central Tokyo, to the southwestern suburbs.
You can also visit Hanzo’s remains, which rest in the Sainen-ji temple cemetery in Yotsuya, Tokyo, where his favourite spear and ceremonial battle helmet are also on display. The spear, originally 14ft long, was given to him by Ieyasu and, though it was damaged during the bombing of Tokyo in 1945, it remains a major tourist attraction. In popular culture, Hanzo and the Ninja continue to endure, being the subject of countless books, movies and computer games throughout the world, ensuring that the
ir legacy will never be forgotten, while also continuing to serve as inspiration to today’s special forces.
But, back in England, a civil war had also broken out. To settle it would involve one of the country’s most remarkable men building a new army, the likes of which had never been seen before . . .
14
CROMWELL’S NEW MODEL ARMY
AD 1644
By 26 October 1644, the English Civil War had raged for two years. On one side of the divide were King Charles I and his Cavaliers. On the other were the Roundheads of Parliament. But, with Parliament’s 19,000-strong army gathering around the Royalist outpost of Donnington Castle, their superior numbers looked set to put an end to matters once and for all. However, the king had defied Parliament right from the start of his reign. And now, despite being surrounded, he looked to do so once again.
When Charles ascended the throne in 1625, he had immediately butted heads with Parliament when it refused to raise taxes in order to fund wars in Spain and France. While Parliament did not believe such conflicts were worthwhile, the English armed forces were also in dire need of investment, with one general stating, ‘The number of lame, impotent and unable men, unfit for actual service, is very great.’
Moreover, England had been at peace for so long that men who had previously fought in wars were now too old to be of any use. On the other hand, the young had no knowledge of war and were therefore grossly unprepared. The training of the current armed forces was also pitiful. While men who held estates of certain value were bound to provide trained ‘bands’, in different regions of the country, they only met to drill once a month during the summer. In most cases, these get-togethers seemed to focus more on drinking in local taverns than any actual military training. As a Colonel Ward later commented, ‘As trainings are now used, we shall, I am sure, never be able to make one good soldier.’ It was said that London was the only region with trained bands of any consequence, as they hired expert soldiers to instruct them, but they still fell well short of the best European armies of the age.
The Elite Page 16
