Thus Tominaga, for one, felt that the clapping of those dedicated hands, hands purified by sacred ablution, echoed as if in a forest glen deep in the mountains.
Especially on a night like this, in the darkness of the small hours with the spring rains not far off, the reverberating echo of Otaguro’s clapping seemed charged with yearning and devotion, and the seven heard it as striking upon the very doors of heaven.
Otaguro next began the prayer of purification. His loud, clear voice seemed to herald the dawn that would break through the curtain of night and whiten the eastern sky. To the eyes of those waiting in the fore-hall, there was perfection even in the straight seam running down the back of his white priestly robe. His clear voice seemed like a blade cutting through evil:
“. . . When these entreaties are heard, all the land under heaven, beginning with the court of the offspring of the gods, will be free of every defilement. As the winds of heaven scatter the towered clouds, as the breezes of morning and evening sweep away the mists of morning and evening, as a great ship moored in a wide harbor is freed at the prow and at the stern, and pushed out toward the deep, as the scythe blade forged in fire cuts away yonder tangled growth—so shall all defilements be purged and purified . . .”
The seven leaders held their breath in awe as they beheld the arcane ritual from the fore-hall. Unless they received the divine sanction this time, they would perhaps never be able to strike their blow.
Silence fell with the conclusion of Otaguro’s chant. His tall cap seemed to sink into the darkness of the inner sanctuary as he prostrated himself in prayer.
The shrine was surrounded by open country. The night scent of fresh young leaves, of manured fields, of oaks in blossom floated in upon the breeze, an oppressive heaviness to the mingled odors. Since they sat in darkness, there was not even the drone of swarming insects.
Suddenly a sound from the roof above shattered the silence. It was the cry of a night heron taking flight. The seven regarded one another. They knew that each had felt the same shudder.
Soon the candles burning in the sanctuary were hidden for a moment as Otaguro rose to make his return. The seven awaiting him heard the very sound of his footsteps as a favorable omen.
Otaguro announced that the gods had blessed their undertaking. The divine approbation thus gained not only freed them to act but designated them the army of the gods.
Matters having reached such a stage, Otaguro set about forming a secret coalition with patriots in other areas, and dispatched comrades of the League to Yanagawa in Chikugo, to Fukuoka, to Takeda in southern Bungo, to Tsuruzaki, to Shimabara, as well as to Saga, to Hagi in Choshu, and elsewhere. As for the comrades in Kumamoto itself, they were to enter into a seventeen-day period of mortification, during which they would pray for the success of their long-cherished enterprise. The day to strike, the grouping of the comrades—nothing was determined without consulting the will of the gods. As for the day, the divine will ordained thus: “At the start of the Eighth Day of the Ninth Lunar Month, when the moon hides herself behind the mountain.” In like manner, the comrades were assigned in accordance with the sacred casting of lots.
Thus the entire group was divided into three units, the first of which was then further divided into five bands. The first of these five, led by Unki Takatsu, had the task of assaulting the residence of the commander of the Kumamoto post, Major General Masaaki Taneda. The second band, with Unshiro Ishihara at its head, was to attack the residence of the chief of staff at Kumamoto, Lieutenant Colonel of Artillery Shigenori Takeshima. The third band, led by Kagesumi Nakagaki, had as its target the home of the commander of the Thirteenth Infantry Regiment, Lieutenant Colonel Tomozané Yokura. The fourth band, with Yoshinori Yoshimura commanding, was to direct its attack upon the residence of Nagasuké Yasuoka, the governor of Kumamoto prefecture. The fifth band, led by Tateki Ura, was to slay the chief of the Kumamoto Prefectural Assembly, Korenobu Otaguro. The total force thus committed was some thirty men and was designated the First Unit. Once they had taken these enemy heads, they were to signal by fire and rejoin the main body.
The next group was the main force, and its commanders were Tomo Otaguro and Harukata Kaya. The two elders, Kengo Ueno and Kyusaburo Saito, were among the secondary commanders, who also included Kageki Abé, Kotaro Ogata, Kisou Onimaru, Juro Furuta, Tsunetaro Kobayashi, and Gitaro Tashiro, aided by such stalwarts as Goichiro Tsuruda. Designated the Second Unit, its mission was to assault the Sixth Artillery Battalion. Its strength was some seventy men.
The last group, whose command was entrusted to Morikuni Tominaga and Masahiko Fukuoka, was to attack the Thirteenth Infantry Regiment, spurred on by the zeal of its elder, Masamoto Aikyo, together with such men as Tsuneyoshi Ueno, Gengo Shibuya, and Tomo Noguchi. Its strength was some seventy men, and it was designated the Third Unit.
There was one, however, who had not yet declared himself willing to join in this armed rising. This was Harukata Kaya. Kaya was a man of rigorous moral character. His heart was filled with courage, and his eyes flashed with the purity of his zeal. He was skilled in literature, composing both Japanese and Chinese poems and having an excellent prose style. As for martial accomplishments, he was adept in the Shiten School of kendo.
Since his decision would greatly affect the morale of all, Tominaga and the other leaders went in turn to try to persuade him to join them. Finally, a mere three days before the event, he told them that if the Divine Will were consulted and a favorable response elicited, he would commit himself to the enterprise.
Kaya himself having resigned his priestly office, he designated Tateki Ura to present to the gods the question of his participation. And thus at Kinzan Shrine on the Plateau of Kinzan, with Kimpo rising to the west and the haze-covered peak of Aso to the east, Ura fervently performed the rite of Ukei on his comrade’s behalf. The gods indicated their approval. Earlier, with regard to Kaya’s proceeding to Tokyo to present his petition to the Council of Elders at the sacrifice of his life, they had indicated disapproval.
Kaya realized that his reluctance to support the rising was something that had sprung from his own will. Now the will of the gods clearly took precedence. He believed firmly that they had enjoined him to commit himself to this seemingly hopeless resort to arms, and that, after its violence, they would somehow lay a banquet for him and his comrades upon a cloth of pure white, unmarred by the least wrinkle. And so, without vacillation, Kaya submitted to the divine will and joined the enterprise.
How did the men of the League prepare for combat? Most of all, night and day alike, by imploring the blessing of heaven. The shrines allied to them were thronged with comrades come to offer worship.
The troops opposing them numbered two thousand, and they themselves less than two hundred. One of the elders, Kengo Ueno, proposed that some firearms be obtained, but the comrades as a whole were hotly opposed to arming themselves with the weapons of the barbarians. Thus they would carry into battle nothing but swords, spears, and halberds. In order to destroy the post, however, they secretly made several hundred grenades by joining two bowls packed with gravel and gunpowder and attaching a fuse. For the same purpose, Masamoto Aikyo purchased and laid away a supply of kerosene.
How would they garb themselves for combat? Some of them would don helmets and cuirasses, some even the tall caps and ceremonial robes of the ancient nobility, but most would wear short hakama over their everyday dress, with two swords thrust into their sashes. Each would wear a headband of white cloth and bind up his sleeves with strips of white cotton. And every man would fasten on a white cloth shoulder-strap bearing the character victory.
More than their arms and equipment, however, more than their banners, they put their trust in the Divine Simulacrum that Tomo Otaguro was to bear upon his shoulder. The god whom Otaguro would carry into battle, the Divine Simulacrum of the war god Hachiman of Fujisaki Shrine, would be their unseen commander, the one who would mysteriously direct their efforts. And herein would be the fulfillment
of their late Master’s dying wish.
For when in his youth Master Oen heard of the incursion of the American warships and set out for Edo in great wrath to avenge this profanation, he bore upon his shoulders this same Divine Simulacrum.
PART THE SECOND
The Combat of the Ukei
THE ENTIRE FORCE was to meet at the home of the elder Masamoto Aikyo, directly behind the Fujisaki Hachiman Shrine with its guardian rows of huge camphor trees. This house stood on high ground at the western edge of the second defense perimeter of the old castle, adjoining the Kumamoto garrison.
So that nearly two hundred armed men could gather here without being noticed, small groups met at dusk at various rendezvous and thence made their way to the marshaling point under cover of night.
Here, by Aikyo’s house, they could see Kumamoto Castle rising into the night sky beneath the moon of the Eighth Day of the Ninth Month. The Great Tower, bathed in moonlight, thrust itself up at the castle’s very center, and to its left rose the lesser tower. Still further to the left the outline of the level roofs of the main hall and the women’s quarters stretched out for a short way before giving place to the Udo Turret, whose dark outline jutted skyward. To the right of the Great Tower, at the end of an irregular line of roofs, rose two final towers of more modest height, the Sangai Turret and the Tsukimi Turret, their tile roofs glistening in the moonlight. The Tsukimi Turret looked down upon the riding ground of Sakuranobaba just to the west of the castle, where slept the artillerymen upon whom would fall the assault of the Second Unit.
The moon set.
The First Unit whose object was the residences of major officials made its departure. The hour was drawing on to eleven. There were stars in the sky, and the deep grass of Fujisaki Heights was covered with dew.
Next to leave was the Second Unit, led by Otaguro and Kaya. And as it set out in the direction of the artillery battalion, the Third Unit also departed, bound for the infantry encampment.
The seventy-odd men of the Second Unit, the main force of the rising, went up the Slope of Keitaku, and divided into two sections, one of which was to assault the east gate of the artillery encampment and the other, the north. They found both gates firmly barred. At the east gate two expert young swordsmen, Wahei Iida, twenty-two, and Gitaro Tashiro, twenty-six years old, scaled the wall with gallant exuberance and, shouting “First over!” plunged into the camp and at once cut down the sentries who challenged them. They were followed over the wall by Tsunetaro Kobayashi and Tadajiro Watanabé. Then Tashiro, seizing a pestle from the nearby mess hall, rushed up and smashed the bolt of the gate, and the entire force came pouring in like an avalanche.
Just inside the gate, Kango Hayami overpowered a soldier and bound him with a rope, intending to press him into service as a guide.
Meanwhile, the north gate, too, had fallen, and the other section of the Second Unit dashed forward to join forces in cutting their way into the two barracks of the artillerymen. Roused from deep sleep by fierce battle cries, the troops were thrown into a panic by the sight of blades flashing in the darkness. Utterly routed, they sought safety by cowering in various corners of the barracks. The battalion headquarters duty officer on this night, Second Lieutenant of Artillery Keiichi Sakaya, ran downstairs from the second-floor duty room and engaged the onrushing swords with drawn saber. Quickly wounded, however, he escaped through a rear door and watched the scene from the shadows.
Leaderless, the soldiers fled like terrified women and children. As the lieutenant looked on, flames sprang up from the east barracks. Pressed by the billowing black smoke, the soldiers who had hidden in the barracks came tumbling from the windows, to be driven and scattered by the swords of the oddly garbed insurgents. Seeing this, the young officer grated his teeth.
The fire had been set with grenades and kerosene in the east barracks by Tsunetaro Kobayashi, Wahei Iida, and their comrades, and in the west barracks by Katsutaro Yonemura and his. Neither Iida nor Kobayashi were carrying matches, and they had had to shout out to their companions for “phosphorus,” as they were called, to light the fuses.
Avoiding the glare of the flames, Lieutenant Sakaya made his way to the garrison dispensary and hurriedly bandaged his wounded right arm. Then, plunging once more into the fray, he confronted some fleeing soldiers, and tried to take command of them. The terrified soldiers would not heed his orders. When he finally put heart into a few of them, his efforts caught the eye of Kyusaburo Saito, renowned for his skill in fighting with the spear, who came running to the attack.
Lieutenant Sakaya raised his saber with his wounded arm, but was instantly pierced by Saito’s spear, and fell, uttering a bitter cry. He was the first officer of the government forces to perish in the struggle.
Meanwhile, Yoshinori Yoshimura and his comrades of the fourth section of the First Unit had wounded Governor Yasuoka grievously in wild fighting but failed to take his head. They then withdrew from the Governor’s residence and hastened across Geba Bridge, attracted by the battle cries and the leaping flames within the castle walls. Kageki Abé turned aside from the final routing of the enemy to greet them, thereupon learning of the outcome of their battle and of the loss of Motoyoshi Aikyo at the tender age of seventeen, the first of the League of the Divine Wind to fall.
The garrison artillerymen had not been issued small arms. Those who had been tardy in fleeing either perished in the flames or were slain by the flashing blades of the comrades of the League, and now their corpses lay heaped about. Kisou Onimaru, who had cut down the foe with exuberant zeal, happened to come up at that moment and, seeing Yoshimura, broke into a broad smile. Raising his bloodied sword so that it glittered in the noonday brightness cast by the flames that enveloped the two barracks, he gazed at it with cheerful mockery as he declared: “Indeed, such is the worth of garrison troops!” Even his garments, drenched in enemy blood, glowed crimson in the flames. Then Onimaru rushed off in pursuit of the remnants of the enemy.
The comrades of the League had crushed all resistance here. A single hour had brought them victory.
Otaguro and Kaya re-formed their force, but as they were withdrawing they saw a red blaze lighting the sky above the infantry camp within the castle’s second perimeter. Realizing the fierceness of the battle there, Kaya called out to his men to help in the assault on the infantry garrison, to which they responded eagerly. Behind them flames ravaged the artillery barracks. The black bulk of Kumamoto Castle loomed up against a crimson sky. In Yamazaki, Motoyama, and other parts of the city were still more conflagrations. These flames, dancing skyward on all sides, gave witness to the fury with which their comrades had struck. In their mind’s eye they saw the brave figures of their brothers in arms, forever faithful, moving through the swirling fire, each one smiting the foe with flashing blade. This was the hour for which they had so long checked their fierce rage and whetted their sword blades in secret. Otaguro’s bosom heaved with an ineffable surge of joy. “Every man is fighting,” he murmured. “Every man.”
As for the Third Unit, led by Morikuni Tominaga, Masamoto Aikyo, Masahiko Fukuoka, and Hitoshi Araki, the seventy men of this group had left the precincts of Fujisaki Shrine at the same time as the main force commanded by Otaguro and Kaya. Its objective, the Thirteenth Infantry Regiment’s camp, lay within the same castle perimeter as the shrine, though at the eastern edge of it, whereas Fujisaki Shrine was at the western. The foe’s strength was close to two thousand men.
Finding the west gate of the infantry camp shut fast before them, twenty-year-old Haruhiko Numazawa clambered atop the palisades and, shouting “First over,” leapt down on the other side, to be followed immediately by several other young men. The lone sentry fled across the drill field intending to sound the alarm with his bugle, but he had no more than put it to his lips when he was cut down where he stood.
Hitoshi Araki had come equipped with a rope ladder. He flung this up so that it caught upon the top of the palisade, then hastened to mount it, but so many others graspe
d it too that the ropes gave way. Kyushichi, Araki’s loyal servant, thereupon offered his shoulders to his master, and several men, one after the other, scaled the wall by this means and opened the gate from the inside. With a great battle cry, the entire company rushed in to the attack.
Masahiko Fukuoka, wielding a massive sledgehammer, shattered one barrack’s door after another, and his comrades hurled in grenades. Soon the regimental headquarters barrack as well as those housing the first, second, and third companies of the second battalion were engulfed in flames.
According to current military practice, no ammunition was distributed to individual soldiers in time of peace. Thus the only weapons of use were sabers for the officers and fixed bayonets for their men. Beset as they were by battle cries, swirling flames, billowing black smoke, and sword blades flashing about them, the troops had no means to resist. The captain who was regimental duty officer was cut down before he could rally his forces, and the corpses of his men soon lay in heaps, some clad only in their shirts, still others stark naked, and the flames and the black smoke rolled over them.
A lone survivor, Second Lieutenant Ono, still wielded his saber and fought on with bitter tenacity. But then, just as two sergeants had come rushing to his assistance, all three men were cut down.
It was at this moment that the third section of the First Unit poured into the camp through the second perimeter gate to join forces with the Third Unit. In their assault on the residence of Lieutenant Colonel Yokura, the regimental commander, the third section’s prey, had slipped through their grasp, but now the morale of the combined forces soared to new heights.
With a full infantry regiment, however, the combat was of a different order from that waged in the artillery compound. There was a limit to the number of men that could be felled by blades alone. Though each attack threw that part of the camp into disorder, it took time for the waves of panic to spread. Thus some were able to regain their wits. With clearer vision, they could correctly assess the situation. And now the grenades that had served so well to terrify the foe worked against the men of the League. For as the flames soared up from the barracks and the men of the League leapt about in the noonday brilliance, it became all too clear how incredibly few they were.