Within the hour Satsuma had Midzuano trapped in his _yashiki_, and I
was closing in upon Keiki. The Mito men gathered rapidly, with the
evident purpose of driving us off or cutting their way through to their
Hitotsubashi allies. But the timely arrival of Yuki with a thousand
Owari retainers compelled the enemy to draw back for reinforcements.
Before these could come up, the rumor of the attack upon the Shogun
had spread throughout the official quarter, and so vast a number of
loyal _samurais_ swarmed to my support that the Mito men barely averted
destruction by a quick retreat across the outer moat to their Superior
Yashiki.
A word from me would have precipitated an attack that must have
resulted in the certain destruction of Keiki. But Yuki and my
counsellors alike advised me against a course of action that would
undoubtedly result in a conflagration not alone of fire. The death of
Keiki by the sword would be the signal for civil war. Even the Prince
of Owari had no right to punish the Shogunate’s enemies without the
command of the Shogun.
The most I could do was to lay siege to the fortified dwelling of the
plotter, that no message might pass between him and the old Prince, his
father. All through the day we waited, lined up about the _yashiki_,
and backed by the dense throngs of _hatamotos_ and loyal _samurais_,
that came and went, yet were always too numerous to be driven back by a
sortie of the Hitotsubashi men or scattered before an attack by Mito.
Keiki’s retainers wisely kept close and made no display of weapons at
the _yashiki_ windows. My men were held by my command, but there were
times when an arrow or even a gibe would have stung our allies to an
instant storming of the traitor’s stronghold.
Late in the afternoon my adopted father sent a message commending my
actions, and asking me to hold my position until notified by Iyesada,
with whom he was advising. At nightfall we lighted bamboo torches and
vast numbers of lanterns, that neither Keiki nor any messenger might
escape past us in the darkness.
A violent storm, accompanied by a deluge of rain and a display of
lightning most unusual in Japan, swept over the city during the night,
the wind at one time blowing a full gale. But though we were in the
midst of the typhoon season, the storm failed to augment to hurricane
force. The ardor of more than half of our volunteer allies was quenched
by the downpour and the turmoil of the elements. Appalled by the
seeming anger of the gods, they deserted us in great numbers. Yet
enough remained for the watch to be maintained with utmost vigilance
throughout storm and night.
Dawn brought us a clearing sky and lulling wind. At sunrise a rumor
reached us that Midzuano had committed _hara-kiri_. An hour later an
order from the palace, signed by Iyesada and countersigned by Abe
Ise-no-kami, commanded me to withdraw my forces. Uncertain whether to
obey, I despatched a messenger to Satsuma for instructions. Before the
man could return, my adopted father came to me in his _norimon_ and
directed me to comply with Iyesada’s command.
Once again old Mito and his accomplices had escaped the penalty of
treason. Midzuano had destroyed Kohana’s message, and with a false
fidelity in the very face of death, had left a testament to the effect
that he committed _hara-kiri_ in proof of his own innocence and the
loyalty of his friends. With consummate adroitness he had converted
what would have been taken as a confession of guilt into a shield to
hide his shame and a mask for the crime of his fellow-conspirators.
Without proof positive, Abe Ise-no-kami, who had already been appointed
to the office of the dead Counsellor, was of too cautious a temperament
to proceed to extremes. To assure himself a majority, he had favored
a reorganization of the Council of Elders. Otherwise the regime of
Iyesada promised better opportunity for the success of Mito than had
the iron rule of Iyeyoshi. The father had been a strong man, who could
command the fear and respect of all the great _daimios_; the son was an
amiable, capricious weakling. Abe, though astute, was over-cautious and
lacked the force and magnetism of a leader. His would be a policy of
expediency.
Such were the bitter comments of my father as we sat in Owari Yashiki,
breaking our fast on the dainty dishes served us by my quaint little
mother. Divining with subtle intuition the great fear that troubled her
son, Tokiwa Sama ventured to inquire what effect the murder of Iyeyoshi
would have on my marriage. The Prince confessed his inability to
foresee, but assured me that he would make every effort to obtain from
Abe and Iyesada a confirmation of the agreement.
With this he left us and returned to the palace,--to find Keiki already
in conference with the new Chief Counsellor. It was the beginning of a
ceaseless contest of influence and intrigue between Owari and Mito.
Sobered by the fate of his fellow-conspirator and guided no doubt by
the crafty counsel of his imprisoned father, Keiki restrained his
fiery temper and proved himself a master of subtlety. With every
move he expressed a heartfelt desire for an amicable adjustment of
differences and for the coalescence of all parties under the banner
of the Shogunate. This was his protestation even while his agents
were intriguing with the Kyoto court nobles to prevent the formal
investiture of Iyesada with the title and office of Sei-i-tai Shogun.
Meantime he had the audacity to demand the immediate release of his
father, my degradation and deportation as a _tojin_, and the marriage
of Azai to himself. Our only positive proposition was that the ports
should be opened for temporary intercourse. Against us the Mito faction
stirred up all the prejudices, fears, and passions of the proud
_samurai_ class.
Abe assumed a judicial attitude, and did all that lay in his power to
conciliate the contending factions. To please Mito, he authorized the
building of war junks, the drilling of an army, and the casting of
cannon. Plans for forts upon the shoals opposite Shinagawa were rushed
to completion and work begun.
To please Owari, he refused to take action against me, caused the
abrogation of the law that required persons suspected of Christianity
to tread upon the cross, held the question of releasing old Mito in
abeyance, and intimated that with regard to Azai he rather favored me
above Keiki, but would make no decision until the regular investiture
of Iyesada gave the new Shogun the prestige of the Mikadoic sanction.
The last of the answers of the _daimios_ to the letters of inquiry
sent out by Iyeyoshi were now coming in, and Abe compared them with
the others, with a politic inclination towards the weightier scale.
Yet decision was difficult. The vast majority of the counsellors were
uncertain and confused in their advice. Against a seeming weight of
opinion in favor of the ancient laws, the perplexed premier had to
consider the demands of the Russian admiral, Pontiatine, just received
from Nagasaki, the not improbable event of a visit from the powerful
Asiatic fleet of the British, and the future but certain return of
Commodore Perry.
The inevitable result was a continuance of the policy of compromise.
The Mito intrigues at Kyoto were delaying the investiture of Iyesada.
To secure the Mikadoic sanction the weak Chief Counsellor promised
Keiki the release of his father. To appease our party for this
concession to the enemy, Abe pledged his personal influence in favor
of a temporary treaty and engaged to secure the assent of the Mikado.
Keiki obtained an additional concession that old Rekko should be placed
in command of the defences of Yedo.
When the Prince heard of this last victory of Mito, he went to the
palace in a rage. Abe was most apologetic, but insisted that the
concession had been pledged under the seal of Iyesada, and could not be
withdrawn. As a peace offering he agreed to obtain Iyesada’s assent to
my marriage with Azai.