CHAPTER XIII

THE SEN-HIMÉGIMI (Princess Sen)

The Sen-_himégimi_, eldest daughter of Hidétada the second Sho[u]gun,

figures little in our story; enough so, however, to necessitate the

telling of one of the not least striking episodes in a life full of

event. Married at the mature age of six years to the Udaijin Hidéyori,

son of the Taiko[u] Hidéyoshi and lord of O[u]saka castle, those

childish years were the happiest of that period. Clouds were rising

between Toyotomi and Tokugawa as the princess approached nubile years.

On her the Yodogimi, mother of the Udaijin, visited the more personal

effects of her resentment. For the growing girl it was a period of tears

and affliction. In truth she well knew the weight of her mother-in-law's

hand. So wretched was her life that there was some fear of her killing

herself. A powerful influence in screening her in these later years was

that of the famous Kimura Nagato no Kami. Shigenari and his wife Aoyagi

were the guides and friends of the _himégimi_ during this trying period;

her councillors to forestall cause of the Yodogimi's wrath. Moreover the

pleasant relations between the young husband and wife were an incentive

to bear a burden patiently, which time might remove. Nevertheless the

Yodogimi was inexorable. The night screens were set up in different

chambers. When the Sen-himégimi made her escape from O[u]saka castle she

was sixteen years old, and in all likelihood a virgin.

As to the stories of her escape from the besieged castle, then in the

very throes of the final vigorous and successful assault by the three

hundred thousand men surrounding it, these vary. According to one

account Iyeyasu Ko[u], brows knit with anxiety as he watched his men

pressing to the attack, thumped his saddle bow as vigorously as waning

years now permitted--"The Senhimé to wife, to him who brings her safe

from the castle!" Not a man in his train moved. They looked at the

blazing mass before them, the flying missiles--and staid where they

were. Then came forward a Tozama _daimyo[u]_, Sakasaki Dewa no Kami

Takachika.[15] Prostrating himself he announced his purpose to make the

attempt. Making his way into the blazing pile of the burning castle he

found the Senhimé amid her frightened maids. Wrapping her up carefully

he took her in his arms, and with great regard for her person, and none

for his own, he sought her rescue. The last chance was through the

blazing mass of the great gate. Just as he was about to clear it, down

came the tottering superincumbent structure almost on their heads. The

red hot tiles, the sparks like a fiery deluge, the blazing fragments of

wood carried and tossed by the air currents, surrounded them as in a

furnace. Nearly all the train perished in the attempt. Dewa no Kami

succeeded in presenting himself before the O[u]gosho[u] (Iyeyasu). Even

the old captain could but turn with pity from the hideously disfigured

man. The Senhimé in all her beauty was saved. Bitter was her resentment

against all--father, grandfather, their partisans--who had refused the

gift of life to the young husband. Rescue or no rescue, she absolutely

refused to carry out the agreement and become the wife of this--mask.

Other tales are less romantic. The most prosaic sends Dewa no Kami to

Kyo[u]to, on orders of Hidétada Ko[u]. For the princess a second bed was

to be found among the Sekké (the five great _kugé_ Houses of the

imperial court). The mission was not unsuccessful, but by the time the

messenger returned Hidétada had changed his mind.[16] Brusquely he

offered her to Dewa no Kami. The Senhimé got wind of these movements.

Her resentment toward the Tokugawa House determined her hostile stand.

She would not be an instrument to their advancement. Family relations

were taken very seriously. It is to be remembered that her uncle

Hidéyasu, adopted into the Toyotomi, was so fiercely loyal to that House

that his natural father, the O[u]gosho[u] Iyeyasu, poisoned him, by his

own hand and a gift of cakes, it is said. Those likely to hitch and

hamper the movement against O[u]saka, such as the famous Kato[u]

Kiyomasa, found short shrift in the soup bowl. At all events the insult

of refusal fell on Dewa no Kami. After all, by the most authentic tale,

he seems to have deserved no particular credit. As to the actual escape

from O[u]saka-Jo[u] either of the following versions can be accepted. As

suicide was the inevitable issue for the defeated, the Yodogimi, with

some reluctance, had announced her purpose; and her intent to involve

the _himégimi_ in the fate of herself and son. This was but the ethics

of the time; and was neither cruel nor unusual. It was thoroughly

constitutional. Fortunately the fears of the Lady Dowager made her

add--"the time is not yet propitious." She left the keep, intending to

ascertain in person how matters went on outside, before going on with

the ceremony inside. The maids of the Senhimé at once surrounded her and

urged flight. Overpowering any resistance, moral and physical, these

energetic _samurai_ women bundled their mistress well into _futon_

(quilts). Then with no particular gentleness they lowered her over the

castle wall. Others followed her--to destruction or better luck, without

_futon_. Some twenty of them risked the descent. Horiuchi Mondo[u], a

gentleman of Kishu[u] Kumano, noticed the unusual group. They besought

an aid for the princess he readily gave. Dewa no Kami happened to come

on the scene, and promptly took the responsibility of the safety of the

princess on his own shoulders.

Here the two versions join, for by the other Ono Shuri, captain of the

defense and hence most seriously involved, sought the safety of his own

daughter. The princess therefore was sent from the castle, under the

care of his _karo[u]_ Yonemura Gonémon, to plead for the lives of the

Udaijin and his mother the Yodogimi. Ono was careful to include his

daughter in the train, and the _karo[u]_ followed his illustrious

example. Dewa no Kami met the party outside the castle, and grasped the

chance of being agreeable by escorting it to the camp of the

O[u]gosho[u]. Honda Sado no Kami here was in charge. His mission to the

grandfather was eminently successful. Iyeyasu, overjoyed at the escape

of the beloved grandchild, consented; provided that of the actual

Sho[u]gun be obtained. All rejoiced, with little thought of Hidétada's

harsh feeling. Perhaps the message expressed this; perhaps it was spoken

to cover refusal, for he had deep affection for his children. But as in

greatest wrath he made answer--"The thing is not to be spoken of. Why

did she not die together with Hidéyori?" The Senhimé was safe enough now

in his camp; and he did not purpose the escape of his rival Hidéyori, to

be a permanent danger to his House. The princess, worn out by many days

of suffering, went to sleep in the shed which furnished her with

quarters, and never woke until high noon on the following day. By that

time she could choose between the tales of her husband's escape to

Satsuma; or his suicide and her widowhood, the only proof of which was

the finding of the hereditary sword of the Toyotomi House. She clung to

the former story, despite the ascertained suicide of the Yodogimi, who

hardly would have allowed the escape of the son and her own destruction.

Thus disgruntled, later the _himégimi_ was removed to Kyo[u]to, fiercely

hostile to all the Kwanto[u] influence.

A word in conclusion as to the fate of the attendants, thus skilfully

foisted on her. The daughter of Ono Shuri had escaped, with all the

sufferings and passions aroused by family disaster. When subsequently

the princess was removed to Edo she went in her train. They were

companions in misfortune. In the hostile atmosphere she was taken with a

consumption, long to undergo its torments. Overcome by homesickness she

would return to former scenes, and worship at her father's grave.

Permission was now granted. Yonémura accompanied the dying girl to the

capital. Here Ono Shuri had lost his head in the bed of the Kamogawa

(the execution ground). Here at Kyo[u]to the daughter found her tortured

end. Gloomy the old vassal prepared the funeral pyre of his mistress. As

the flames shot high and wrapped the corpse, a woman's figure darted

forward and sprang into the midst. Unable to distinguish the bones of

his daughter from those of the honoured mistress, Gonémon placed the

remains of both within the same casket, to rest at the last beneath the

pines and cedars of the holy mountain of Ko[u]ya.

On June 4th (1615) the castle had fallen. The date is important in

connection with one of the current scandals. Later the Senhimé was

escorted down to Edo by Honda Mino no Kami Tadamasa, in whose train was

his handsome son To[u]nosuké (Tadatoki). He is said to have been like

enough in appearance to the Udaijin Hidéyori to act as his substitute in

the most intimate sense. The fierce little lady fell violently in love

with him. By the time Edo was reached she ought to have married Honda,

and in the passage of the months and days would have to. At all events

this rather disproportionate marriage was early proposed to the council

of the Bakufu, and after some discussion accepted. This decision was not

reached until Genwa 2nd year 9th month (October 1616), or more than a

full year after the fall of the castle. The failure to carry out the

agreement with Dewa no Kami afforded ample reason for the extremity to

which this latter's rage was carried. By all accounts he had lost a

bride, the acknowledged beauty of the land, apart from the great

influence of the connection. Perhaps his own hideous disfigurement was

involved. He determined to lie in wait for the journey down to Himeji,

Honda's fief; and kill or carry off the lady. The Sho[u]gun's Government

got wind of the purpose. The lords were storming with wrath, and a

public fracas was feared. All composition had been refused. Dewa refused

to see his friend Yagyu[u] Munénori, sent to him as messenger of

greatest influence. Secret orders then were sent that Dewa no Kami must

be induced to cut belly, or--his vassals ought to send his head to Edo.

The Sho[u]gun's word and bond must be saved. The vassals knew their

lord, and had not loyalty enough to act otherwise than to sever his

head, as he lay sleeping off a drunken fit in broad daylight. It was

against rewarding this disloyal act that Honda Masazumi showed open

opposition to the council's decision; and Hidétada Ko[u] himself

disapproved enough not to inflict extinction (_kaieki_) on the family of

the dead lord, the usual process. The continuance of the succession was

permitted on the Sho[u]gun's order. All these matters were so public

that little credit is to be given to the rôle assigned to Sakasaki Dewa

no Kami in the event about to be described; the issue of which was so

unfortunate in the carrying out, that Sakasaki, in command of the bridal

cortege and keenly feeling the disgrace, cut open his belly in

expiation; and that the Government, to hush up talk as to attack on the

train of the princess, put forward as explanation the proposed treachery

and resultant death of Dewa no Kami.

As to the event itself: with greatest reluctance, uncertain as to her

former husband's fate, the Senhimé had been forced into agreement with

the Honda marriage. From the Nishimaru (western) palace the bridal

cortege took its way to the _yashiki_ of Honda near the Hitotsubashi

Gomon. Time was at a discount in those days, and by no means was the

shortest route to anything taken. The procession filed out of the

Sakurada Gomon, to circle with its pompous glitter the outer moat. All

went very well. The _yashiki_ walls bordering Tayasumura were slipping

by. Then the steadily accumulating clouds poured forth their contents.

It was a downpour, blinding in effect. The _rokushaku_ of the

Kurokwagumi--stout and tall palanquin bearers, "six footers"--floundered

and staggered in the mud. The heavy palanquin came to the ground. Great

was the rage of the princess at this unseemly precedent for such an

occasion. "Rude ruffians! By this very hand this scum shall die!"

_Te-uchi_ was to be the lot of the miserable fellows prostrate in

obeisance and seeking pardon in the blinding storm from the lady's

dagger, menacing them from the open door of the palanquin. The Lady of

O[u]saka was quite capable of carrying out her threat. Abé

Shiro[u]goro[u], later the famous Bungo no Kami, was equal to the

occasion. With soft words he would soothe her. "Congratulations to the

_Himégimi_! May her highness deign to accept the so happy augury of

present ill luck bringing good fortune throughout a long and happy life.

Deign to regard with future favour the words of Shiro[u]goro[u]." He got

as near the mud as he dared in his respectful salutation. The lady's

face softened. She was appeased.

Then she held up the hand, with the dagger still ready for action.

Shiro[u]goro[u] sprang to his feet. Something else than storm was in

progress. In the escort ahead there were other sounds than the rumbling

and sharp crash of the thunder, the swishing of rain wind driven. The

flashes of lightning showed that the cortege was the object of a most

determined attack, which sought to make its way to the palanquin of the

princess. Abé Shiro[u]goro[u] would have leaped forward, but the

flashing eyes and presence of the _himégimi_ held him to her nearer

defence. The number of the assailants could not be ascertained in this

darkness like to night.[17] The tower of defence was Yagyu[u] Tajima no

Kami, greatest master of the sword in Nippon. He had the support of the

younger O[u]kubo, of Kondo[u] Noborinosuké, of Mizuno Juro[u]zaémon even

then noted as expert with the spear. In general command was the beloved

superintendent of the _hatamoto_, O[u]kubo Hikozaémon. In daylight the

affair would have been easy. But in this darkness they had to stand to

their defence. That it was an attack by O[u]saka _ro[u]nin_, enraged at

the marriage of the princess, there was no doubt. But what their

numbers? So far the defense was impregnable. There was nothing to fear.

Three of the leaders of the _ro[u]nin_ lay on the ground. Their chief,

visible in the lightning flashes, could not hope for success. It was the

old and still active Hikozaémon, the _oyaji_ (old chap), the hardened

warrior of Iyeyasu, who scented out the threatening move. He sprang off

into the dark wood, almost as the crack of the musket was heard. They

would seek the life of the _himégimi_ with deadly missiles! How

contemptible; for great as yet was the scorn of such use. Vigorous was

the old man's pursuit of a foe, seeking to ascertain his success and

reluctant to flee. "Ah! Ah! Rascal! Just wait! Wait for this

Hikozaémon!" The fellow did wait, a little too long. Noting the

lessening darkness, the discomfiture of his train, he turned to flee in

real earnest. As he did so, Hikozaémon, despairing of success, hurled

his dirk. Deep into the fellow's shoulder it went. "Atsu!" Savagely he

turned on the old man. Hikozaémon was skilled in defence, but stiffening

with age. His opponent showed himself an able warrior. "Ah! Ha! 'Tis

Hikozaémon Dono. With him there is no quarrel. Deign to receive a

wound." The old fellow's sword dropped helpless under a sharp rap over

the wrist from the back of the blade. This was enough for the man's

purpose. With laughing and respectful salutation, of short duration, he

turned to a more successful flight.

The storm cleared away, the cortege was re-formed; to enter in state the

_yashiki_ of Honda Sama. It was said that he got but a cold bride--one

on whom only "the bed quilt lay light." Time, the ascertained fact of

Hidéyori's death, worked a change in the insanity simulated by the

princess. Then she was so taken with her lord that she proved fatal to

him. He died at the age of thirty-one years, was buried in his castle

town of Himeji, leaving but one daughter as issue by the princess. The

lady returned to residence at the Takébashi Goten, to be a disgruntling

influence in her brother's court. But Honda Ke had not done badly. This

consort made him a minister in the Sho[u]gun's household (Nakatsukasa no

Tayu), a more likely promotion than one at the age of sixteen years, at

this date of the Sho[u]gunate. From 10,000 _koku_ his fief was raised to

150,000 _koku_; and he secured a wife so beautiful that his exodus to

the houris of Paradise was a bad exchange. Meanwhile what was the cause

of objection, thus expressed by force of arms, to the conduct and

nuptials of the Sen-himégimi?

Bakemono Yashiki (The Haunted House), Retold from the Japanese Originals Tales of the Tokugawa, Volume 2 (of 2) · 第 4 / 19 章