* * *
Nobunaga was said to be merciful and loved by the people whom he ruled; Yasuke understood he was also feared. Servants in Azuchi often literally shook when he approached. Visiting lords sometimes stammered when they spoke. One even fainted. In the town below the castle, shopkeepers casually retreated back into their stores as Oda warriors breezed by on horseback. In the middle of June, Yasuke finally discovered why, firsthand.
They’d traveled on horseback and then by boat to a shrine in the middle of nearby Lake Biwa. An excursion to revel in nature, something to get them away from the tiring business of government and diplomacy and a good excuse, after, to pay a visit to Nobunaga’s senior vassal Hideyoshi’s nearby castle at Nagahama. Nobunaga had been preoccupied with events in the north where restive peasants, warrior monks and local lords had taken advantage of the distraction caused by the cavalcade of horses to rise up. Nobunaga’s men on the ground, and the reinforcements which he swiftly dispatched, had dealt with the rebellion, but it had been a worry. The ride out after to visit Hideyoshi’s castle was another chance to forget such concerns.
Yasuke and five other pages had accompanied their lord and expected to stay the night in Nagahama before returning to Azuchi in the morning. Nobunaga, however, had changed his plans and, in an exhilarating lightning ride that used multiple horses per rider, the group returned to Azuchi Castle within the day, a distance of thirty leagues, much farther than anyone would ever have imagined was possible.
Word of his change in plans, alas, had not reached his servants back home. When Nobunaga returned, he found nothing was ready for him; worse, many of his female domestics had gone to worship in a nearby temple, and were still absent from the castle. Word of his fury spread across the entire town. Those servants caught unprepared at Azuchi Castle were bound and taken to the courtyard for immediate execution. The women at the temple were rounded up—together with the abbot who begged for their lives to be spared—and brought back to the castle.
Yasuke watched the whole episode from a platform in the yard. Nobunaga sat on the ornate chair he’d received from Valignano and Yasuke stood beside him. The warlord gazed on impassively as each woman knelt without resistance and the warrior assigned to the duty lifted the victim’s hair. Another soldier poised his sword and then swiped. Each woman’s head was parted neatly from her neck, the corpse toppled forward, and the first man held up the trophy for inspection while the swordsman wiped his blade clean on the dead woman’s robes. Blood pooled on the ground. Each time Nobunaga nodded curtly in acknowledgment of the sentence carried out. After all the women had been killed, the Buddhist abbot was executed also.
Yasuke thought back to other mutilations, decapitations and executions he’d witnessed. One he’d seen in India had taken five swipes of a blunt sword; and another he’d seen on his journey to the African slave port as a child had been prolonged purposely by the perpetrators, who’d bet on how many strokes it would take. These, in comparison, had each been delivered in a single stroke.
His samurai brethren often used the bodies of recently executed criminals to test and hone their blades during training. The headless body would be fixed to a standing position with stakes so that warriors could swipe at it in different rounds of testing; the calves, then the thighs, the arms and so on to the torso until there was nothing left but mincemeat for the village dogs and waiting birds. At each round, they’d inspect their blades for notches and nicks, testing and proving the quality of their swords to themselves and each other. It was a chance to practice killing blows and to assess their swords on real human flesh and bone. Yasuke—who’d received similar training in India to inure him to killing—joined them.
They did not use the executed women in this way. Instead, their bodies were cleared away, the lesson at an end.
* * *
A week after executing a dozen members of his staff, Nobunaga stayed true to his mercurial style and held several extravaganzas for his people and numerous visiting lords.
Foremost among these was a sumo wrestling tournament.
Nobunaga was a well-known connoisseur of sumo, and many of today’s codified rules and conventions can be traced back to him. Sumo had originated in the mists of unrecorded history as a form of worship, where humans performed ritual combat with spirits in shrines. It had continued as one of the many ancient martial arts warriors used to keep fit and battle ready.
This occasion was a minor spectacle compared to some of Nobunaga’s earlier sumo tournaments. Those had attracted men from throughout all of Japan and lasted through days of feasting, drinking and—thanks to the local women and courtesans brought in especially for the event—a good deal of fornication. Prizes then had included ceremonial weapons, silken gowns, minor fortunes and even residences. The prize this time was, as always, handsome. The winner was to be awarded one hundred koku, enough rice to feed one hundred mouths for a year and the income of a medium-ranked samurai, something akin to what Yasuke himself might have enjoyed. It could be sold for a small fortune by the winning combatant. Even sumo wrestlers, Nobunaga joked, could not eat that much food.
Nobunaga, who routinely exhibited and challenged Yasuke’s strength, eventually had his newest samurai enter the dohyo for a go. While the crowd cheered and his fellow samurai shouted encouragement and laughed, Yasuke played along. He first took off his shirt, then climbed the steps to the dohyo. The ring was edged in rice-straw bales on top of a platform made of clay mixed with sand. The yobidashi (bout announcer) called Yasuke forward and indicated the two white lines on the floor with his fan. Yasuke, grinning, took his spot and squared off against a foe who stood more than a foot shorter. The crowd—drunk, and understanding this match was just for fun—yowled with expectant laughter.
Yasuke understood his role well enough and when the gyoji (referee) motioned with his fan for them to start, the two began their slow dance around the ring. The tournament’s many spectators would have seen the religious symbolism in the dark-skinned giant, who many equated with a semidivine spirit, engaging in the ring with a human foe.
Yasuke placed his hand on his opponent’s head and held him back as he would a child, several feet away, to raucous laughter and Nobunaga’s delighted grin. Next, Yasuke stood still and allowed his opponent to try and move him out of the circle for the win; but he could not be moved an inch. Finally, the African samurai grabbed his opponent and pushed him out of the ring in a single dismissive move; his expression, however, apologized to his defeated opponent. It would not do to humiliate his new comrades.
The crowd roared in approval. Yasuke was soon facing off against two, then three, at the same time. It took four to eventually drive him from the dohyo. The four triumphant Oda warriors drank and joked together with him for the rest of the day. Nobunaga joined them for a round or two.
A week after the sumo tournament, Nobunaga held another horseback spectacle—this time for the people of Azuchi. What was the point of soon ruling the whole of Japan, if he couldn’t bring such delights to his own people? They needed to get used to this. The Romans called it “bread and circuses,” perhaps “rice and spectacle” might have been more appropriate for Nobunaga.
The time for his final victories, after all, was near. Campaigns were going well against the Mori in the west and in the final planning stages for taking on the Chōsōkabe clan on Shikoku, Japan’s third largest island. Nobunaga’s troops were on standby, ready to attack the other minor factions, prime among them Nobunaga’s old foe, the loathed Takeda clan ensconced in the mountains around Mount Fuji to the east. When the opportunity revealed itself, he would pounce.
* * *
Yasuke held his left arm firm as the bronze-speckled hawk approached for landing, harking the gentle ringing of the suzu bell attached to the bird. Its underbelly and wings were mostly white, but it was the narrow streaks of bronze at the tips of each feather which flashed in the midday sun. It landed heavily on the glove made from
soft deerskin which extended up his left forearm, and after Yasuke had secured the jesses, he turned to grin at his amused audience.
Nobunaga smiled back, nodded in approval. Two of his sons—Nobutada and Nobukatsu, on a rare visit from their own fiefs to see their father—and Ranmaru stood behind him, their own hawks perched and waiting on their arms. Insects gossiped in the tall grass surrounding them.
A party of twenty had ridden along the Lake Biwa coast and then inland for an afternoon of hawking. Nobunaga had recently received six exceptionally rare Korean hawks as a gift from a lord seeking favor, and after weeks of lavishing care and training on the birds, he’d wanted to try them out.
Throughout the summer, supplicants from all over Japan had brought Nobunaga gifts to acknowledge his suzerainty. Jewels, expensive fabrics, horses, domestic falcon chicks and most prized of all, these hawks from Korea, a rarity that had not been seen in Japan for a century. Hawking was a prestigious pastime, introduced from Korea over a thousand years before, the sport of lords and princes. The best and rarest birds could change hands for a king’s ransom and to be able to partake in the activity showed extreme status and wealth. Still, every large city had a Takajo street, a “hawkers” street, supplying trainers and necessary gear for the exclusive few who could afford to shop there.
Yasuke gave his bird a wedge of duck meat from the black-lacquered food box proffered by Nobunaga’s hawk trainer, who’d stood close at hand, offering quiet encouragement throughout. The suzu bell tinkled as the bird chewed away at the meat. It had been a short flight for the older hawk, a hundred yards at most, but had adequately provided Yasuke his first hands-on experience with the sport. It was a great honor to be permitted to take part; normally even the hawk trainer was not allowed to touch the bird directly, using a special kind of blanket wrap called a muchi when needing to handle his charges.
The party stalked forward again, Nobunaga preparing his own bird as a pair of young retainers ran out ahead to scare up prey. Today’s catch had been a dozen quail and a pair of cranes. Soon, another crane took to the sky and Nobunaga’s hawk was set loose. It raced across the sky and struck the larger bird directly at the neck, clinging tight as the crane worked to shake the hawk away. Often it required a second hawk loosed to take down such large prey, but no one—not even Nobunaga’s sons—dared loose his own bird unless asked directly by Nobunaga. They waited and watched while the hawk’s vicious beak struck and the crane dropped from the sky, talons still clinging to its throat.
As they walked to the catch, Nobunaga recounted the story of a famous samurai poet who’d given up hawking forever after meeting a “samurai-like” crane who’d held off two hawks for some time before finally falling and then shown no signs of fear when the hunters had come to slit its throat. “The crane was resigned to the inevitable,” Nobunaga explained. “And met its death with a calm and reconciled defiance.”
Yasuke and the others reflected on his meaning while Nobunaga’s youngest son finished off the dropped bird and handed it to one of the servants. The hawk, already landed and tethered with the jesses as the warlord fed it morsels of moist duck meat from the ornate food box hanging from his belt, shuddered at the scent of the fresh kill.
Over lunch, Nobunaga asked Yasuke about hawking in other parts of the world. Yasuke had heard of it, even seen it in India, but never partaken. He felt a bit disappointed in himself; normally he had an answer for Nobunaga’s questions. Still, Valignano’s former bodyguard had clearly become a trusted voice in Nobunaga’s inner circle due to his wide knowledge and experience of foreign life and warfare.
* * *
In early August, Valignano—who’d been visiting Christian Japanese allies in the north—again passed through Azuchi. He was on his way back to Nagasaki, where he would prepare for his long-planned return home to Rome, a voyage which now included four young Japanese samurai emissaries he planned to introduce to Europe.
Before leaving, he visited Nobunaga one last time to bid his formal farewell. A necessary courtesy. They met in Nobunaga’s sixth-floor vermillion chamber, Yasuke kneeling to the warlord’s right. Yasuke and Valignano exchanged nods and cordial smiles as their gazes met. Valignano had been kept up-to-date with Yasuke’s trajectory, but the sight of him, at Nobunaga’s specific request, in his Japanese robes and samurai swords, was surely something to behold.
Nobunaga, naturally, granted Valignano’s wish to depart his realm, but also made clear his desire the Jesuits continue their work in Japan. Their presence pleased him a great deal as he found their conversation fascinating, their music beautiful, and they always brought interesting new contraptions with them as tribute. Also, of course, they annoyed the established ecclesiastical powers.
The Jesuits had already had a significant influence on Japanese warfare. The order’s patrons, the Portuguese, had been the first to bring handheld European firearms, more efficient than the older Chinese-style weapons. But now the Japanese had mastered their manufacture and even improved upon it by making waterproof guards for the ignition taper, and standardized bores for bullets. But who knew what newfangled gadgets the Jesuits would bring next?
Paying Valignano a particularly notable honor, Nobunaga gifted the Jesuit a huge pair of priceless gold-encrusted standing screens featuring paintings of Azuchi Castle. These were as tall and long as Yasuke and created by the most renowned artist of the day, Kanō Eitoku. Through Valignano, now word of Nobunaga’s power and glory would be transmitted around the world. Valignano promised to deliver Nobunaga’s gift directly to Pope Gregory XIII himself.
The Jesuit Visitor took the opportunity to bid a final farewell to his former manservant and bodyguard. The emotions for both men were complex, without words. They wished each other “Godspeed.”
Yasuke had been promoted further than he ever could have imagined and stood rich, proud and tall beside his new lord. And, Valignano’s visit to Japan had also been a wild success, his expectations exceeded, and it was with triumph in his heart that he paid obeisance to Nobunaga and, bowing deeply, took his final leave.
Yasuke was now alone in Japan.
* * *
Days later, all the streets and houses were hung with lanterns. For three long hot summer nights, the townspeople and garrison walked the streets, both out of devotion to the dead and in joy at taking their holiday. It was the annual Festival of the Dead, Obon, a Buddhist-inspired holiday in which ancestors’ spirits pay a visit to the family home and after three days return to the spiritual realm, seen off with fire, song and dance. It is an occasion for family gatherings and also the time to clean the ancestral graves and think upon sacrifices made by dearly departed loved ones. Offerings of water, incense, sake, rice and fruit are made to the dead, new babies are introduced, family updates shared with the unseen ancestor ghosts as they rest for the long journey back whence they came.
Nobunaga was not going to miss the opportunity for a spectacular show. On the third and final day of the festival, he had the whole upper castle, surrounding woods and Lake Biwa below lit with thousands of flaming torches and lanterns to show the ghosts and spirits of the ancestors the way home. For those spirits slow to take the hint and leave, children tossed rocks onto the roofs to drive them away.
Nobunaga’s horse guards even stood holding burning torches in boats far out from the shore. The light reflected and shimmered softly like the spirits themselves in the calm lake waters. Below the castle, a huge blaze formed the center of the festivities. The great war drums, taiko, were brought out and manned by teams of bulky samurai, setting the tempo for the Obon dance, as the people of Azuchi formed circles around the huge blaze and lost themselves in the hot sweaty evening and booming, mesmerizing beat of the taiko.
It was a sight to behold and as Yasuke took a break from the dancing, he drank it all in. It was a time to reflect on ancestors and the past. All that was lost to him so many miles and years away, somehow so close again. But he also re
flected on the present, and even wondered about the future, a future now so much more filled with possibility than at any previous time in his life.
He was a samurai, within the closest entourage of the most powerful man in Japan. He had servants, his own home, weapons and fine clothing. And he not only invoked fear in those around him—something he had likely always received, grudging or blatant—but respect. His trajectory was moving ever upward, rising like the many Obon flames reaching toward the sky.
Chapter Fifteen
Oda at War
Yasuke’s new clan, the Oda, were always at war.
Under Nobunaga’s leadership, the Oda had expanded from their home province of Owari during the 1560s—when they conquered the neighboring domain of Mino—and hadn’t ever looked back. Their strategy and pattern remained consistent for the next twenty years: giant strides forward in territory, followed with occasional small steps back in consolidation. In short order, they’d grabbed the whole of the central plain area of Japan, and the most important cities of Kyoto and Sakai.
As was common across the world in Yasuke’s time, before resorting to war, Nobunaga often tried using his wider family as pawns in his political machinations. He himself started playing this game early by marrying Nōhime, the daughter of a rival in 1549. She proved unable to have children, so all of his offspring were born by concubines, although Nōhime officially adopted his direct heir, Nobutada. Twenty years later, Nobunaga married off his younger sister, Oichi, to cement an alliance with warlord Azai Nagamasa, and then married another sister, Oinu, to a rival lord, Saji Nobukata. Both marriages ended after only a few years when the warlords betrayed Nobunaga by foolishly allying with enemies against him, and soon died at the hands of Oda troops. Still, the marriages had bought peace for a few years and allowed Nobunaga to continue his spread across Japan.
Yasuke: In Search of the African Samurai Page 19
