Taiko. Part 131

All of them hung their heads.

"It was my mistake to mobilize in response to Lord n.o.buo's plea. It was also my fault that so many good retainers were killed in the battles at Mount Komaki and Nagakute. Once again, the fact that Lord n.o.buo secretly joined hands with Hideyoshi and rendered your righteous indignation and loyal anger meaningless is by no means his fault. Rather, it is due to my own oversights and lack of wisdom. You have all been completely and unselfishly sincere, and as your lord, I cannot find the words to apologize properly. Please forgive me."

At some point, everyone there had lowered his head. No one looked at Ieyasu's face. Shivers of unmanly weeping undulated from shoulder to shoulder like waves.

"There's nothing we can do, so please endure this. Strengthen your resolve and wait for another day."

After they had sat down, neither Ii nor Honda had said a word. Indeed, both men had taken out handkerchiefs and, looking aside, wiped their faces.

"This is a blessing. The war is over, and tomorrow I'll return to Okazaki. All of you should soon be on the road home, too, to see the faces of your wives and children," Ieyasu said, as he too blew his nose.

On the following day, the thirteenth of the month, Ieyasu and the greater part of the Tokugawa army withdrew from Kiyosu Castle and returned to Okazaki in Mikawa. On the morning of the same day, Ishikawa Kazumasa went to Kuwana with Sakai Tadatsugu. After meeting with n.o.buo, he went on to visit Hideyoshi at Nawabu. Relaying Ieyasu's formal greetings, he presented the letter of congratulations and left. After Kazumasa had gone, Hideyoshi looked at the men around him.

"Look at that," he said. "That's just like Ieyasu. No one else would have been able to swallow this painful blow as though it were simply hot tea."

As the man who had made Ieyasu drink molten iron, Hideyoshi appreciated his feelings very well. Putting himself in Ieyasu's place, he asked himself if he would have been able to react in the same way.

As these days pa.s.sed, one man who felt quite happy with himself was n.o.buo. After the meeting at Yadagawara, he became Hideyoshi's perfect puppet. Regardless of the situation, he would ask himself, "I wonder what Hideyoshi would think about this."

Just as he had formerly relied on Ieyasu, he now worried about how Hideyoshi would react to whatever he did.

He therefore was inclined to go along with exactly what Hideyoshi had desired in fulfilling the conditions laid down in the peace treaty. Portions of his lands, the hostages, and the written pledges were all presented without exception.

At that point Hideyoshi relaxed a little. Nevertheless, thinking that the army should remain at Nawabu until the following year, he sent a messenger to the men in charge at Osaka and made preparations to spend the winter in the field.

It goes without saying that from the very beginning Hideyoshi's object of concern had been Ieyasu, not n.o.buo. Since he had not yet concluded matters with Ieyasu, he could not say that the situation was under control, and his aims were only half-fulfilled. One day Hideyoshi visited Kuwana Castle, and after talking with n.o.buo about various subjects, he asked, "How have you been feeling recently?"

"I'm in great health! And I'm sure it's because I have no unpleasant thoughts. I've recovered from the exhaustion of the battlefield, and my mind is completely at ease."

n.o.buo displayed a bright and cheerful laughter, and Hideyoshi nodded a number of times, as though he were holding a child on his knee.

"Yes, yes. I imagine that that meaningless war wore you out, my lord. But you know, there a still are few remaining difficulties."

"What do you mean, Hideyoshi?"

"If Lord Ieyasu is left just as he is, he may cause you some trouble."

"Really? But he sent a retainer here with a message of congratulations."

"Well, he certainly wouldn't have wanted to go against your will."

"To be sure."

"So you'll have to say something first. In his heart, Lord Tokugawa would clearly like to make peace with me, but if he gave in on his own, he would lose face. Since there's no reason to confront me, he's probably perplexed. Why don't you help him out?"

There are many men among the sons of famous families who are extremely selfish, quite probably because of the illusion that everyone around them exits for their sake. Never would they think about serving someone else. But, being spoken to in that way by Hideyoshi, even n.o.buo was able to conceive of something greater than his own interest.

So, several days later, he suggested that he himself act as a mediator between Hideyoshi and Ieyasu. That was his natural responsibility, but he hadn't thought of taking it on until Hideyoshi had suggested it.

"If he'll agree to our conditions, we'll forgive his armed action in deference to your handling the situation."

Hideyoshi was taking the position of a victor but wanted to convey the terms for peace through n.o.buo's mouth.

The conditions were that Ieyasu's son, Ogimaru, was to be adopted by Hideyoshi, and that Kazumasa's son, Katsuchiyo, and Honda's son, Senchiyo, were to be delivered as hostages.

Other than the destruction of the fortifications, the division of lands formerly agreed upon by n.o.buo, and the confirmation of the status-quo by the Tokugawa clan, Hideyoshi did not seek any further changes.

"There is some resentment in my heart concerning Lord Ieyasu that will not easily be cleared away, but I can endure it for the sake of your honor. And since you've decided to take on this task, it would be distressing to delay it too long. Why don't you send a messenger to Okazaki right away?"

Thus instructed, n.o.buo sent two of his senior retainers as representatives to Okazaki that very day.

The conditions could not really be called severe, but when he heard them, even Ieyasu had to call on his reserves patience.

Even though Ogimaru was said to be adopted, he was truly a hostage. And sending the sons of senior retainers to Osaka was clearly a pledge of the defeated. Though his retainers were upset, Ieyasu remained calm so that Okazaki would remain calm as well.

"I agree to the conditions, and I'll ask you to take care of the matter," he replied to the envoys.

Back and forth they went, a number of times. Then, on the twenty-first day of the Eleventh Month, Tomita Tomon.o.bu and Tsuda n.o.bukatsu came to Okazaki to sign a peace treaty.

On the twelfth day of the Twelfth Month, Ieyasu's son was sent to Osaka. Kazumasa and Honda's sons went with him. The warriors who saw off the hostages lined up along the streets and wept. Their action at Mount Komaki-an action that had temporarily shaken the entire nation-had ended in this.

n.o.buo came to Okazaki on the fourteenth, toward the year's end, and stayed until the twenty-fifth. Ieyasu did not say one unpleasant word. For ten days he entertained that good-natured man whose future was so obvious, and then sent him home again.

The eleventh year of Tensho came to a close. People had an inordinate number of feelings about the pa.s.sing year. Among the things they felt keenly was the certainty that the world had changed. It had been only a year and a half since n.o.bunaga's death in the tenth year of Tensho. Everyone was surprised that such sweeping changes had come so quickly.

The exalted position, the popularity, and the mission that had formerly been n.o.bunaga's had quickly become Hideyoshi's. Indeed, the liberality of Hideyoshi's character wa in accord with the times, and helped create subtle revolutions and advances in society and government.

Watching the trends of the day, even Ieyasu could not help scolding himself for the stupidity of rowing against them. Of the men who had gone against the tide of fortune not one had escaped with his life since time immemorial, as he knew very well. At the foundation of his thinking was the cardinal rule that the observer should distinguish between the smallness of man and the vastness of time, and not resist the man who had grasped the moment. Thus he deferred at each step to Hideyoshi.

At any rate, the man who saw in the New Year while he was at the very height of prosperity was Hideyoshi. He was now in his forty-ninth year. At the age of fifty, in one more year, he would be in the prime of manhood.

The New Year's guests numbered many times more than they had the year before, and, dressed in their finery, they filled Osaka Castle, bringing with them the feeling of the springtime that was close at hand.

Ieyasu, of course, did not come, and a small number of provincial lords who paid deference to Ieyasu followed suit. Moreover, there were certain forces that even now decried Hideyoshi and rushed around making military preparations and gathering secret intelligence. Those men also refrained from tying up their horses at the gate of Osaka Castle.

Hideyoshi observed all that as he continued to greet guest after guest.

As the year entered the Second Month, n.o.buo visited from Ise. If he had come at New Year's with all the other provincial lords, it would have been as though he were making a New Year's call on Hideyoshi, and that would have been beneath his dignity. Or so he reasoned.

There was nothing easier than satisfying n.o.buo's conceit. Using the same courtesy he had shown when he knelt in front of n.o.buo at Yadagawara, Hideyoshi demonstrated a perfect sincerity in his hearty welcome. What Hideyoshi had said at Yadagawara was not a lie, n.o.buo thought. When rumors surfaced about Ieyasu, n.o.buo criticized the man's calculating nature because he thought it would please Hideyoshi. But Hideyoshi simply nodded silently.

On the second day of the Third Month, n.o.buo returned to Ise in great joy. During his stay in Osaka, he had been told that he had been invested with a court t.i.tle, thanks to Hideyoshi's good offices. n.o.buo had remained in Kyoto for about five days, receiving the congratulations of many callers. It seemed to him that the sun would hardly rise if it were not for Hideyoshi.

The traffic of provincial lords to and from Osaka during the New Year, and the activities of n.o.buo in particular, were reported in detail to Hamamatsu. Ieyasu, however, could now do nothing more than observe Hideyoshi's appeas.e.m.e.nt of n.o.buo from the sidelines.

Epilogue.

Between the spring and fall of that year Hideyoshi sent ships to the south and horses to the north in his campaigns to subdue the country. He returned to Osaka Castle in the Ninth Month and began overseeing the internal administration and foreign affairs of the Empire.

From time to time he would look back on the mountains he had climbed to get thus far, and at such moments he could not help congratulating himself on the first half of his life. In the coming year he would be fifty years old, the season in which a man reflects on his past and is made to think about his next step.

Then, because he was human and indeed was subject to carnal pa.s.sions more than the common run of men, it was natural that at night he would reflect on those pa.s.sions that had governed his life in the past and continued to do so in the present, and would wonder where they might lead in the future.

It is the autumn of my life. Not many more months remain of my forty-ninth year.

As he compared his life to climbing mountains, he felt as if he were looking down toward the foothills after having climbed almost to the summit.

The summit is believed to be the object of the climb. But its true object-the joy of living-is not in the peak itself, but in the adversities encountered on the way up. There are valleys, cliffs, streams, precipices, and slides, and as he walks these steep paths, the climber may think he cannot go any farther, or even that dying would be better than going on. But then he resumes fighting the difficulties directly in front of him, and when he is finally able to turn and look back at what he has overcome, he finds he has truly experienced the joy of living while on life's very road.

How boring would be a life lacking the confusions of many digressions or the difficult struggles! How soon would a man grow tired of living if he only walked peacefullyalong a level path. In the end, a man's life lies in a continuous series of hardships and struggles, and the pleasure of living is not in the short s.p.a.ces of rest. Thus Hideyoshi, who was born in adversity, grew to manhood as he played in its midst.

In the Tenth Month of the fourteenth year of Tensho, Hideyoshi and Ieyasu met in Osaka Castle for a historic peace conference. Undefeated in the field, Ieyasu nevertheless ceded the political victory to Hideyoshi. Two years before, Ieyasu had sent his son as a hostage to Osaka, and now he took Hideyoshi's sister as his bride. The patient Ieyasu would wait for his chance-perhaps the bird would yet sing for him.

After a great banquet to celebrate making peace with his strongest rival, Hideyoshi retired to the inner apartments of the castle, where he and his most trusted retainers hailed his victory over many cups of sake. Hours later, Hideyoshi rose shakily to his feet and bid the company good night. Slowly he stumbled down the hall, a short, monkeyfaced man surrounded by his ladies-in-waiting, almost hidden by the colorful, rustling silks of their many-layered kimonos. The laughter of the women could be heard all along the gilded corridors as the tiny figure of j.a.pan's supreme ruler was led to his bed.

In the dozen years left to him, Hideyoshi solidified his grip on the nation, breaking the power of the samurai clans forever. His patronage of the arts created an opulence and beauty still celebrated as j.a.pan 's Renaissance. t.i.tles were heaped upon him by the Emperor: Kampaku. Taiko. But Hideyoshi's dreams did not end at the water's edge; his ambitions reached beyond, to the lands he had dreamed of as a child-the realm of the Ming emperors. But there the armies of the Taiko would fail to conquer. The man who never doubted that he could turn every setback to his own purpose, that he could persuade his enemies to be his friends, that he could even make the silent bird wish to sing a song of his own choosing-in the end he had to yield to a greater force, and a more patient man. But he left a legacy whose brilliance yet remains as the memory of a Golden Age.

end.