by John Allyn
.5i.
He went to his room and got a warm cloak. He had been profoundly shaken by the news about his master and he knew there was no use trying to sleep. There was only one place where he might get some help for the questions that were troubling him, and he quietly slipped outside the castle to go there. The guard on duty at the main gate let him out a small side door and politely concealed his surprise at such unusual actions on the part of his superior.
The night was dark with a cold breeze and Oishi shivered as he started to climb a small hill behind the castle. As he ascended, the wind grew stronger and he pulled his cloak more tightly around him. Looking back as he walked, he could see the dim outlines of the castle towers against the night sky; looking ahead he began to make out the shadows of a small cluster of gravestones on top of the hill. This was Kegaku-ji, the temple in Ako that constituted the Asano family burial grounds.
He made his way to the center of the tiny fenced area and looked around. Here were buried the ashes of all the members of the Asano family he had ever known and many that had died before he was born. He moved slowly around, reading the familiar inscriptions on the pointed stone markers, then paused to look upward at the sky.
"My Lord Asano," he said with great intensity, "I call to you in the spirit world."
There was no answer but the moan of the wind and the nervous friction of leafless branches, but still Oishi felt closer to his lord than he would anywhere else and took some comfort in being able to openly express his thoughts.
"If only I'd been with you," Oishi cried as he knelt with his hands pressed together and lifted upward in
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a, gesture that asked for forgiveness. Then he dropped his hands to his knees and cast his eyes down in humility.
"Please know, my lord, that we attach no blame to your action. You did what any man would have done to protect his honor. The blame is all on the other side."
Oishi was thinking that he had known Lord Asano all his life and that in spite of his occasional outbursts of temper, there was no more worthy daimyo in all Japan. This section of the country was known for its strong adherence to the traditional virtues of the samurai and there was no one more generous, more brave, more earnest in trying to live up to those ideals than Lord Asano. Oishi would follow such a master anywhere, even to the grave if necessary, and he would have no hesitation in drawing his dirk and joining him at this very moment if he thought the gesture would accomplish anything.
His hand went to the blade of the knife at his belt but then dropped away. His primary duty now was to the living. To Lord Asano's widow and little daughter and to all the retainers and people in the castle town who would look to him for guidance. If the time came when his suicide would serve a purpose, he would be ready.
Now there were decisions to be made and he was depending on the spirit of Lord Asano to guide him in making the right ones. Would his master want him to peaceably give up the castle or would he want him to stand a siege, fighting to the last man? Or should they simply all kneel in front of the castle and commit seppuku together as a protest against an unfair sentence? Oishi was used to carrying out orders, not formulating policy, and this was a difficult experience
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for him. He realized how much depended on his ability to decide what was best for all and the responsibility weighed on him heavily. Who could judge if his choices were the right ones? The silent voice of Lord Asano would guide him, but in the end he knew he must judge himself. The path of honor was easy to follow when it was easy to see. When there were conflicts between choice of action, such as Hara had raised, the solutions could not be expected to satisfy everyone.
In the deep woods, higher up the mountain, a fox barked at the wind and Oishi lifted his eyes. He saw the grave markers standing around him like an impenetrable fence and he imagined that this was how the spirit of Lord Asano saw them, too. His soul was in torment because of the dishonor his act had brought on Ako, and he would find true repose only when some resolution to the present state of affairs could be found. It was up to Oishi to find a way to bring this about.
He sighed, then rose to bow respectfully to all the tombs in the graveyard. He felt the coldness of dread in his bowels as he did so. The sudden extinction of this noble family was almost too awful a thought to bear. If they surrendered, these graves would be neglected and the spirits would search in vain for proper homage and care from their descendants. Those living would be denied the comforts of their ancestors' blessings and would wander the earth dispossessed of part of their souls. The urge to strike out against those who would bring this to pass came strongly over him, but he knew in his heart that a siege would be a futile gesture. In the end they would lose and the graves of the ancestors would be just as neglected
Chapter Four
Suddenly the immensity of what was going to happen to himself personally struck home for the first time. He would no longer be a respected samurai; he would be a ronin, a man without a master, one of those pitiful ones whose days of usefulness and glory were gone. He would be forced to become a soldier of fortune or drop out of the military ranks altogether. Either choice was a miserable one. Perhaps Hara was right and he should ignore the orders of Daigaku and Toda. It would be better to go down fighting than to watch his family starve and sink into the bottomless, honorless pit of poverty.
Then he shook his head free of such thoughts and went back down the hill to the castle to plan what he would say at the meeting that must be called. In the morning he would ask his wife to tell Lord Asano's little daughter that her father and mother would not be coming home.
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The next morning Oishi briefly told his wife what had happened in Edo. In the face of such a tragedy she was naturally shaken, but true to the samurai tradition to which she was born, she did not break down in
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useless tears. She was given her instructions about the little girl and bowed respectfully as she left to carry them out. The future of their own family was not discussed; there would be time for that later.
Weary from lack of sleep, Oishi moved slowly toward the front of the castle where the followers were to assemble, but as he passed the door of the room where he had met with Hara and Yoshida the night before, he heard voices and paused.
Someone was reading from the works of Confucius in a droning monotone and he could not resist the temptation to move silently to the sliding door and push it open a crack.
The scene inside was just as he had imagined and it took him back nearly thirty years to his own young manhood. His fifteen-year-old son Chikara, already nearly as big as a man, was kneeling on the tatami before a low writing table, patiently practicing the complicated brush strokes of Japanese character writing. Opposite him on a cushion, his pale-faced teacher in a priestly cap and flowing gray robes sat dictating from the works of Confucius. Oishi knew that through this constant exposure to literary culture and moral teachings, the boy would soon be as thoroughly indoctrinated as he himself was in the wisdom of the past.
Although the barren room was wide and light it was separated from the garden beyond by only a partition of paper shoji and was bitterly cold. Chikara had evidently been sitting stock still for several hours and Oishi noted with pride that although his hands were red with cold, he made no attempt to warm them or to shift his position. His son was following admirably in his own footsteps, and he reflected that the boy would soon be a man with a man's respon-
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sibilities. In view of present events, he would finish his apprenticeship none too soon.
Quietly, Oishi closed the door and went on down the corridor until the teacher's voice faded away. When he reached the front door of the castle it was opened for him by a guard and he took a deep breath as he stepped outside into the cold sun
light to face the assembled men.
All the Asano retainers of samurai rank had been summoned to the meeting. Ordinarily they would have formed in ranks outside the wall, but in the interests of privacy Oishi had summoned them to the front steps of the castle proper and here they gathered, under its soaring towers, over three hundred fighting men surrounding the entrance and overflowing into the paths of the garden beyond.
In attire they were all alike; semibattle dress, ready to don their armor if it should be necessary. In age they varied widely; from men in their sixties who might be more of a hindrance than a help on the battlefield to boys in their teens who had strength and agility but lacked wisdom and experience. The majority were in their thirties and forties, seasoned in life and combat, and it was to these that Oishi primarily addressed himself.
In spite of all precautions, rumors had begun to circulate. The precipitate and unexplained arrival of Hara and Mimura in the middle of the night could not help but be noticed and commented on. Conjectures of all kinds'passed among them while they waited, but their murmurs were quickly stilled when Oishi raised his hand for silence.
In the chill morning air, the frost on his breath was appropriate to his cold words: "Our master is dead." They stared at him in disbelief. Had he shouted it
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Forty-Seven Rofiin Story
with his sword flung high they would have understood that it was a call to action, but the tone in which he pronounced the words told them the situation was hopeless and that there was nothing to be done. As he went on to explain what had happened, there were tears of sorrow and of anger that came to the eyes of many who had never wept before in their lives.
He told them how^ the Shogun's Master of Ceremonies had goaded their master beyond endurance, and there were angry mutterings among them. He told them that Lady Asano was in exile and that the Shogun's representatives were coming to take over the castle and all the lands at Ako. There were again murmurs of outrage but they stopped when Oishi concluded, without even a glance in Hara's direction, that it was the decision of Daigaku Asano, the heir to the title, that they relinquish the castle peaceably.
Hara looked up quickly at this, then narrowed his eyes as they sought out Mimura. Being only a servant, he was not present at the meeting, but Hara vowed he would make him regret his betrayal when he found him. He had not long to wait for his man. Mimura unexpectedly appeared before them in the doorway to the castle and Oishi broke off to see what emergency had brought him there.
When he had been officially recognized, Mimura hurried to Oishi's side and all present turned their eyes on him as he whispered something into their leader's ear. Oishi looked startled, then nodded and the servant withdrew. Oishi turned to the assembled men.
"A messenger has arrived from Edo.'' he told them. "Gengoemon Kataoka has brought fresh news from the capital."
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Kataoka, his monkey face grim and his clothes in tatters, hobbled out on sore legs and bowed deeply to Oishi. He was obviously exhausted and had trouble breathing but did his utmost to hold himself at rigid attention while he was the focal point of the eyes of all of his comrades.
"Please," Oishi said, "tell us what you have learned. You may speak to the whole group together. We are all equally involved in this matter."
Kataoka hesitated, glanced around to identify some of the faces nearest him, then shouted the fateful words:
"KiraHves!"
Instantly the whole tenor of the meeting changed. Sorrow and hopelessness changed to pure rage and Hara was the first to voice it.
"Then he must die!" he cried, and there was a tremendous answering shout from the assembly. A surge of passion rose within Oishi, too, but he deliberately forced it down and waited for the uproar to subside. When the men saw that he wished to speak they gradually quieted down, although there were puzzled murmurings about his strangely cold response to the news that their dead master's arch-enemy still lived.
"I agree that Kira should die," he said finally. "There's nothing I'd like more than to launch an assault on him this very minute. But ..." and he paused as his jaw tightened, "... we should not be hasty in rushing into action. I hardly think that this group is sufficient in size or armament to undertake a punitive expedition to Edo to attack someone behind the walls of the Shogun's castle. We'll leave such discussions until later. At this meeting we are only concerned with the coming surrender of the castle
and I have certain recommendations to make in this regard."
This was more than some of the men could take. Their mutterings sounded mutinously in Oishi's ears but only Hara was bold enough to stand and speak. He addressed his leader formally, but with an undertone of incredulity in his voice.
"Please, Oishi-dono, I don't think I understand you correctly. We have just been told that our lord's enemy, the one who caused his death, still lives, and you say there are more important things to discuss?"
He looked to the crowd for approval and received it in their shouts. Bolder now, he continued to lay it on the line. "Does not even the peaceful Confucius say that no man may live under the same sky with the murderer of his lord?"
The men shouted again in agreement until Oishi held up his hand in a commanding gesture.
"You forget yourselves," he said. "Your loyalty ^ is to the house of Asano. Our first duty is to follow the command of our lord's brother and the rightful heir to this fief." He paused to look directly at Hara. "Does not Confucius also say that of the five virtues, loyalty dwarfs all other moral obligations?"
"Our lord's brother is not our lord!" came a shout from the rear and there were answering murmurs of assent. Hara excitedly took the floor again and addressed Oishi directly.
"There is no question of loyalty," he said. "We're all loyal. The only question is how we can best show that loyalty. And I say that if we don't take revenge on Kira, we're bound to appear as cowards and weaklings in the eyes of our countrymen!"
Oishi answered him icily. "And I say it doesn't matter what anyone thinks as long as we're convinced
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in our own minds that we're right. Think for a moment of our mistress, Lady Asano, and of her little daughter. Will taking the life of a miserable creature like Kira help regain their home? More likely they would only be executed along with the rest of us for our unsuccessful attempt. Consider also what such open rebelHon would mean to Ako. Will the ancestors of the Asano family be pleased to have their tombs desecrated in view of a ruined castle?"
"Will those ancestors sleep peacefully in death knowing that Lord Asano's followers were too cowardly to avenge his death?" shouted back Hara. There was a cry of agreement from many of the men and Oishi hesitated, then quietly signaled to Yoshida in the crowd. The gray-haired old man stood and made his way to the front of the group.
"I must reprimand you, Soemon Hara," he said sternly, "for what you have just said to our leader. There is no reason to impugn his loyalty, just because he doesn't agree with you on the best way to show it. For my part, I find his position entirely reasonable. By showing no resistance and obeying the Shogun's commands to the best of our ability we will gain more toward what we want than by seeking a blood bath. If we remain blameless, the Shogun may in time see where the true blame lies and punish Kira himself."
" 'He may in time?'" mocked Hara. "You're an old man, Yoshida. Don't you want to see justice done before you die?"
"I am an old man," agreed Yoshida. "And more than anything before I die, I want to see this house restored. I say we should appeal the Shogun's decision before taking any other action."
There was a murmur of approval to this course of
action which Oishi was relieved to hear. At least they were not all against him. There was a possibility now that he could reach a compromise that would satisfy both factions, at least for the time being. He was pleased with himself for having arranged beforehand that Yoshida should propose this plan so that he h
imself would appear more in the light of an impartial judge.
Ono, the treasurer, now stood and for a moment Oishi regretted he had not consulted with him beforehand.
Ono was an elderly man with a studious look, a tight smile, and a mind that clicked away at a problem like the counters on his abacus. His opinions carried considerable weight and he was capable of making trouble, but as Oishi had anticipated he was in accord with Yoshida's plan. He, too, was for waiting till the last possible moment to make a decision.
"T agree with both speakers that we should make an appeal," Oishi told the group when Ono was through. "It is in no way contrary to the wishes of Daigaku Asano—from what I have been able to learn of his views." He looked directly at Hara who squirmed uncomfortably. "And besides, such a course has the advantage of buying us time to prepare."
"Prepare for what?" asked Hara.
"For a siege, if our petition is denied," Oishi answered. This was the first time he had hinted at positive action and he could tell by the sharp intakes of breaths around him that it came as a not unwelcome prospect. "I will write the petition myself today and send it by courier to the proper officials in Edo. In the meantime I ask all of you to search your souls to decide the best course of action for yourselves. So much has happened so quickly that I recommend you
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all take time to think. We will meet tomorrow morning to discuss measures of resistance, if it becomes necessary to offer it, and I suggest that only those prepared to fight to the death attend."
A hush fell over the group and Oishi spoke more slowly so that there could be no mistake about what he was saying. "We can fight, we can die, or we may decide, if we are too few in number, that it might be better to simply kneel in front of the castle and commit seppuku as a greeting to the Shogun's representatives—if that doesn't seem like too cowardly a gesture."