For two days I was kept caged, but fed and waited upon by _eta_
gaolers with utmost deference. Why there should have been such a delay
I could not conjecture, unless time was required to check some move
of my friends, or unless Mito wished Kohana and myself to regain our
strength, so that we might suffer the more keenly during our execution.
Utmost precautions were taken that I should find no means to put an end
to myself.
On the third day I was roused before dawn and led to a bathroom. My
wounds were now almost healed, and my full strength had come back to
me. But when I stepped from the cage, my arms were gripped by two
_samurais_ in such a manner that a slight twist would have dislocated
the shoulder joints. Of this I was given a hint, as a warning against
any attempt to escape. Otherwise I was treated with deference. After
the bath I was clad in a worn but clean robe of silk, and led back to
my cage for breakfast.
When I had eaten, I was again asked to leave the cage. As I stepped
through the opening, _etas_ seized me and lashed my arms behind my
back. I was led out to a court crowded with warriors in full armor,
and forced into a _kago_, over which nets were wound. Dawn had not yet
come, but torches flung a weird and lurid light over the outlandish
figures of the armored _samurais_.
Another _kago_ was borne forward past mine. Within the nets that
enmeshed it I saw the bowed form of a woman. She raised her head, and I
perceived the pallid face of Kohana. She greeted me with a smile that
wrenched my heart.
“Buddha bless you!” I called. “Be strong. There is one who awaits us
beyond!”
Her dark eyes glistened with tears of gratitude at the words of
sympathy. But the bearers of her _kago_ hastened past. She disappeared
among the close ranks of the _samurais_. A signal was given, and the
torch bearers filed out of the court. The _samurais_ strutted after,
with clanking armor. Others appeared and fell in behind my _kago_. I
was borne out in the midst of the procession.
Outside the gateway of the _yashiki_, Keiki, mounted on an armored
stallion, waited at the head of several thousand warriors. The lowly
_geisha_ and the despised _tojin_ were to be escorted through Yedo by
an army of _samurais_--though not in honor.
Dawn was at hand as we started along the causeway of the outer moat
towards Owari Yashiki. Far away, over the western suburbs of the
city, I caught the glorious vision of Fuji-yama, glowing high in the
blue-black sky, like a symbol of hope in the night of my despair. My
spirits revived with unreasoning elation. But Keiki led his warriors on
along the causeway, and within the half-hour the exultant Mito men were
marching past Owari Yashiki in the full light of dawn, with an insolent
clamor of conches and wooden clappers. The ranks about me opened out,
that I might be seen.
No sound came from the _yashiki_; no face peered from the grated
windows. We clashed past the great gateway. It was closed tight. The
Mito men strutted past, shouting in derision. No band rushed out in
fierce sortie, as I had expected. No face appeared at the windows. I
was abandoned to my fate. My head sank forward upon my breast.
Before me rose a picture of the beautiful gardens and fairylike palace;
of my quaint and gentle little mother Tokiwa, my stately father. But
all vanished before the white face of Azai. A pang of doubt and despair
pierced my brain. Was Azai still here in the _yashiki_, vainly longing
for me?--had she gone before me, with her dirk through that white
throat?--or had she been taken away to be given to Keiki? I muttered
a curse upon my friends. I was being borne past the end of Owari
Yashiki, and not even Yuki my swordbearer had struck a blow for me....
Down through west and south Yedo was a long and tedious march. But
I failed to heed the passage of time. I had sunk into a lethargy of
despair. Only once I roused up. They were bearing me past the groves of
Shiba, now glorious with the tints of autumn. The northeast monsoon,
after weeks of steady effort, had blown the moisture of the Japan
Current southward. The air was as clear as crystal, the blue sky
cloudless. It was no day to lead a man out to a hideous death--I should
have been strolling through the gardens with Azai....
On to the Tokaido, and down along the bay shore through Shinagawa,
marched the grimly grotesque warriors of antique Nippon. It seemed a
lifetime since my dear brother had led me after the cortege of Satsuma,
through the black gate and along the broad way and down that narrow
street to the house of Kohana. Now the _geisha_ was going with me to
meet him--through the black gate of death!
At the southern boundary of Shinagawa the main force of our escort
halted. We were borne onward, guarded only by a hundred swordsmen and
an equal number of pikemen. We came to the pillory upon which I had
seen the five heads. My bearers swung past. This was not the place
where we were to suffer.
Out on the blue bay I saw great foundations of stone rising from the
shoals that barred the approach to Yedo. Toiling workers swarmed over
and about the half-constructed forts, to which strings of sampans were
lightering blocks of stone from junks that lay in the offing. Other
craft sailed up or down the bay, or lay at anchor in the deeper water
down towards the tall white tower on the cape opposite Kawasaki.
Sailor bred, I looked out upon the wide bay with a sudden rousing from
lethargy. Wind, waves, swelling sails--all spoke of life and freedom.
If only the majestic _Susquehanna_ might come steaming around that
towered cape! I could see the grotesque warriors about me scuttling
like crabs before the thunder of the _tojin_ cannon.
But Perry had promised the reluctant Shogunate many months for
deliberation, and I had heard the report from Nagasaki that the
Tai-ping rebellion was raging in China. I could hope for no aid either
from my own countrymen or the ships of any other Western power. The
lives and property of white men were endangered at Shanghai by the
Chinese rebels. It was no time for squadrons to be cruising along the
remote coasts of Japan.
We approached Omori. A group of villagers shouted at me in derision,
and ran ahead of our party. Others joined them by the score. The news
spread down the Tokaido. I saw men in silk robes, white-clad pilgrims,
and even priests, cutting across towards the bay shore. Keiki turned
off the Tokaido. We had come to the execution ground. The mailed
_samurais_ clattered through the midst of the motley crowd assembled
to gloat upon the torture of the victims. There were peasants and
fishermen, merchants and porters, cowled priests and pilgrims, and a
scattering of _ronins_.
But I had no eyes for those who had come to see me suffer. The Mito men
were lining out to right and left. I was borne past after Kohana to
the edge of the hideous blood pit. Bones crunched under the iron-shod
sandals of my bearers. All about me the ground was composed more of the
dead of countless executions than of soil.
Before us stood a heavy post with cross-beams at top and bottom. A few
paces to the left was a massive gibbet with a chain dangling from its
arm. _Eta_ executioners advanced, bearing a huge copper kettle, which
they swung to the chain of the gibbet. Oil was poured into the kettle,
and a fire lighted below.
The _etas_ came to my _kago_ and unwound the nets. But as they dragged
me out, Keiki called to them. One took up his position beside me,
ready to catch me with a grappling-hook should I attempt to run. The
others went to Kohana’s _kago_. She was dragged out and taken to the
cross, which was directly in front of me, less than six yards away.
The _etas_ tore the robes from about her shoulders. The first dancer of
Yedo stood before the gaping mob nude to the waist. In a twinkling she
was triced up to the cross, her tender wrists lashed to the upper arm,
her ankles to the lower. An _eta_ brought a sheaf of slender lances and
handed one to his chief.
The executioner moved around and put the lance tip to the girl’s side.
I knew that his purpose was to pierce upwards through her body without
striking a vital organ. My eyelids fell. I could not endure the sight.
But again Keiki interfered.
“Hold!” he commanded, and he rode forward until between me and the
gibbet. “Wait until the oil is heated. You may miss your thrust. The
girl may not linger long enough to enjoy the first dipping of the
_tojin_ beast.”
“My lord,” protested the _eta_, “it is known to you that I have more
than once thrust through two and even three spears from each side, yet
death did not follow until after many hours. This is one who can endure
much.”
Keiki did not deign to reply. The executioner drew aside a step.
The crowd pressed closer, and an oppressive hush fell upon all. The
gloating spectators stared from myself to Kohana and from her to the
great kettle, where the _etas_ were casting brush and faggots on the
fire.
Even the certainty of torture cannot hold the mind to any one thought
for many moments. I found myself heeding such trifles as the downward
swoop of a flock of gulls and the heat of the midday sun upon my bare
head. I noticed with idle curiosity that those of the crowd who had
pressed forward on each side were nearly all men of the lower classes.
The upper-class men held back behind the guards, seemingly ashamed of
their morbid curiosity.
Gazing out over the bay, I began to count the junks and fishing smacks.
Sampans came and went between the anchored craft. From a junk that lay
opposite us a large sharp-bowed boat was sculling leisurely shoreward.
I flushed with petulant anger at the thought that here was another
party coming to see us tortured, yet too indifferent to hasten.
The purring voice of Keiki recalled me to the horror of the situation.
“The kettle boils,” he called. “Proceed.”
The chief executioner stepped forward with his spear. I caught a
farewell glance from Kohana. She raised her face to the sun. I turned
my head aside--and found myself gazing into the white face of Azai.
I stared, stupefied. She was wrapped about in the white dress of a
pilgrim, the dress of mourning. Had she come to die with me? That
thought was more fearful than the thought of death in the boiling oil.
A man in white behind her looked up, so that I saw his face under the
broad hat brim. My heart leaped. I was to die a merciful death--I and
Azai, my wife. Yuki had not failed me!