Swords of Silence

by Shaun Curry

  Shogun Iemitsu was proud of his family symbol, which could be traced back to his grandfather, Ieyasu. Young Iemitsu was especially proud that his grandfather had begun his rule of Japan after a famous battle – the Battle of Sekigahara in the year 1600 – when Ieyasu had defeated all opposing forces to become master of the country.

  Among attendees at the meeting today were the Shogun’s father, Hidetada, the Shogun’s Roju advisory cabinet, multiple high-ranking samurai, and the appointee for Governor of Nagasaki, Mizuno Kawachi.

  The Shogun lifted his chin and inflated his chest as he glared around the room. Gathered before him were the most powerful men in Japan, and all owed fealty to him. He felt proud that at 19 he was the richest and most powerful samurai in all Japan.

  Iemitsu and his Roju cabinet controlled Japan’s finances with a tight grip. The daimyo were required to pay tax subsidies to him in the form of predefined quantities of rice, called kokus, which acted as the country’s main currency. Although other forms of currency existed, such as silver coins, the true measure of a man’s wealth was rice production, and Iemitsu controlled the entire system. The key for the daimyos who actually produced the rice was to secure as much productive land from Iemitsu as possible, and warlords manoeuvred and sometimes fought each other for this privilege.

  Iemitsu held his head high, his knees anchored on a beautiful golden satin cushion atop an elevated platform. The room became silent. Buddhist monks wearing yellow robes lined the room’s periphery.

  The Shogun turned to his right. ‘Official Mizuno Kawachi-san, we have called this meeting because soon you will leave for Nagasaki.’

  ‘Yes, Lord.’ Kawachi bowed low in deference to the Shogun.

  ‘Before you leave, we want to ensure you are clear about your role and our expectations in the south.’

  ‘Yes, Lord. I am here to serve.’

  ‘Your role is to annihilate Christianity in Nagasaki and throughout Kyushu . . . ‘ – the Shogun paused, – ‘. . . by whatever means necessary.’

  ‘Yes, Lord.’

  ‘I officially appoint you bugyo of Nagasaki. You will replace the existing governor, Hasegawa Gonroku.’

  ‘Thank you, Lord Shogun. Your appointment is a great honour.’

  ‘You will also act as my official representative in Nagasaki, and I empower you to oversee all of Kyushu’s warlords in exterminating Christianity. Furthermore, you will keep a close eye on Kyushu’s daimyo to monitor their eradication of these vermin. Do you understand your duties?’

  ‘Yes, Lord, I understand.’

  ‘I want you to place spies in all the domains to ensure that none of my subjects give sanctuary to any Christians. I will also place my own spies in the region.’

  ‘Yes, Lord.’

  ‘If you discover hidden Christians, I want to know.’

  ‘I will keep you informed, Lord Shogun.’

  ‘If our daimyo are neglectful in their domains, I want to know.’ The Shogun clenched his fists in emphasis. ‘I will punish them, and if they are lucky they will lose only their lands. Do you have any questions, Governor?’

  ‘No, Lord. I look forward to being your Iron Hand,’ Kawachi replied with a determined nod.

  ‘When do you leave?’ asked Sakai, a member of the Shogun’s cabinet.

  ‘In one week,’ Kawachi said.

  ‘What will you do upon your arrival in Nagasaki, Kawachi-san?’ the Shogun’s father, Hidetada, asked.

  ‘I will crucify Christians as a warning to others.’

  ‘Good.’ Hidetada nodded an approval.

  ‘I want to send a strong message to Nagasaki and all the domains. I want the whole island to know that Christianity will perish. I have no compunction about burning Christians alive, or dismembering them one limb at a time.’

  ‘Your resolve is praiseworthy, Kawachi-san,’ the Shogun said. He nodded his head with his shoulders back. ‘Make us proud of your appointment.’

  Light chatter broke out in the chamber as the attendees appeared pleased with their progress, but was quickly silenced by the Shogun’s father, Hidetada, who raised a hand in the air. ‘I would also like you to keep an eye on the foreigners in Nagasaki.’ He paused and questioned Kawachi. ‘You understand why we must watch them with sharp eyes, do you not?’

  ‘To ensure they don’t smuggle in any more priests or missionaries, Hidetada-san,’ the Governor replied.

  ‘Not only that,’ Hidetada continued. ‘We need you to gather intelligence about a potential raid or invasion of our lands by the foreign barbarians.’

  ‘Yes, Lord, of course.’

  ‘This is vital. The Spanish have already established a base in the Philippines.’

  ‘Yes, Lord. I know about their base in Manila.’

  ‘Do not take this duty lightly, Kawachi-san. The Spanish are a conquering nation.’

  ‘The Council has educated me in their tactics, Lord. First, they send Christians to infiltrate, convert, and gather intelligence. Then, they send their army.’

  ‘Correct,’ Hidetada replied. ‘Let us not forget that the English and Dutch have already warned us about the King of Spain. The Spanish have conquered so much of the new world to their west, why would they not also seek to go further and conquer Japan?’

  The Governor nodded.

  ‘I have studied the world maps of the Spanish, the Portuguese, and the Dutch,’ Shogun Iemitsu interjected. ‘Our country is small in size and might seem insignificant to the greater world. Foreigners could invade and conquer Japan and plunder our wealth, just as they have done elsewhere.’

  ‘I will deploy spies to learn all we can,’ the Governor said.

  ‘You must!’ Hidetada’s voice rose as he clenched his jaw. ‘The Christians are the beginning. They report not just to the Pope, but to the kings of their native lands. All foreigners are in league together, to threaten us and divide the spoils of Japan among themselves. First the Bible, then the sword and the lash.’

  Whispers buzzed throughout the chamber.

  ‘Don’t trust anyone,’ the Shogun interjected. ‘Imagine if the Japanese Christians, the foreigner barbarians, and the ronin were to join forces!’

  The murmurs grew louder.

  ‘Let us not underestimate the ronin,’ stated Abe Masatsugu, the most senior member of the cabinet. ‘Those leaderless samurai roam our lands and remain a serious threat to the Empire.’

  ‘The Shogun is correct,’ Hidetada exclaimed as his eyes darted around the room. ‘Imagine the ronin joining forces with a foreign army. They could overthrow us!’

  The murmurs in the meeting chamber grew louder as the Roju cabinet members exchanged worried glances. Meanwhile several samurai on the periphery of the room grumbled at the suggestion.

  ‘I despise those masterless samurai.’ The Shogun’s face was red, the veins in his forehead visible. ‘You have an important role in the south, Governor,’ Hidetada added. ‘You must keep watch on everything.’

  ‘Yes, Lord Hidetada. I am a loyal servant of the Shogun. I will not let you down.’

  ‘First, kill the Christians.’ The Shogun’s fury resounded throughout the room. ‘Second, watch the Spanish and Portuguese traders; they know things. Third, keep an eye on those unemployed ronin that roam our lands without purpose. They’re dangerous, and must not conspire against us.’

  ‘Yes, Lord.’

  ‘Good. This is my country.’ Iemitsu withdrew a knife from inside his garment and stabbed it into the elegant tatami mat before him. ‘And I will not give it up to anyone.’

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  31 May 1626

  Nagasaki City, District of Nagasaki, Kyushu

  Unlike Father Joaquim’s own straw bed, Mateus’s was large, elevated on an elegant wooden frame, and filled with an abundance of plush feathers. Joaquim rose, stretched, then knelt beside the bed. He searched inside his jacket, located a secret compartment, and withdrew a small, worn-out Bible.

  He opened the book of Luke and read: ‘The harvest is plenti
ful, but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field. Go! I am sending you out like lambs among wolves.’

  Joaquim turned his head at a light knock on the door. Mateus da Costa entered. ‘Ah, Father, good morning. How did you sleep?’

  ‘Well, Mateus. How was your night?’ Joaquim sat on the edge of the bed.

  ‘Terrific,’ Mateus answered with a smile that hinted at satisfaction. ‘I always enjoy my nights in the port.’

  ‘Was it prosperous?’

  ‘Always!’ Mateus smirked. ‘Japanese women love Portuguese traders.’

  ‘Good for you, but you know I fill my cup in other ways.’

  ‘Ah, Father, we traders cannot help ourselves. We enjoy the best that Nagasaki offers.’

  ‘And how is business, Mateus?’

  ‘More bureaucracy and barriers,’ Mateus replied, sighing. ‘The Shogun appears bent on closing the country to outsiders. Did you know that Japan is now influencing ships that depart from Macao?’ Mateus leaned against the doorframe.

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘The Shogun’s cabinet has stationed a Japanese official in Macao.’

  ‘For what reason?’

  ‘They are inspecting all prospective passengers and preventing anyone who looks suspicious from coming to Japan. They are creating pre-boarding lists, along with descriptions of everyone on board.’

  Joaquim shook his head. ‘For what purpose?’

  ‘An official gives a copy of the list to the ship’s captain, who must deliver it to the authorities in Nagasaki before anchoring. If there is any discrepancy between the list and the persons arriving, they kill the captain.’

  ‘Another measure to prevent missionaries from arriving?’

  ‘Sadly, yes.’

  ‘Unbelievable. The country is closing itself off.’ Joaquim banged the table in frustration.

  ‘It’s ridiculous.’ Mateus’s face mirrored the priest’s look of despair. ‘They expelled the Spanish two years ago. I think the Portuguese may be next.’

  ‘But we have traded with Japan for over seventy years – longer than anyone else.’

  ‘Nothing lasts forever, Father. Trade has become much more challenging, for the Portuguese and even the local merchants. Did you see all those boarded-up houses on the way here?’

  Joaquim nodded. ‘It looks like they are growing in number.’

  ‘Those are former homes of Japanese Christians. The local authorities have seized them because of their beliefs.’

  ‘But I thought Governor Gonroku turned a blind eye to Christianity?’

  ‘When he can,’ Mateus replied. ‘The Governor cannot always turn a blind eye. When Christian worship is blatant he must act, or face the Shogun’s wrath.’

  ‘I was not aware Governor Gonroku had become a persecutor.’

  ‘I do not think he has much choice these days. The Shogun controls religion now. He decides everyone’s faith.’

  ‘It’s sad that religious freedom has ended,’ said Joaquim.

  ‘I fear it will only get worse.’

  ‘Because of the expected arrival of Mizuno Kawachi?’

  ‘Yes. Any remaining, hidden Christians in Nagasaki are worried about his arrival, the traders too.’

  ‘Why the traders?’

  ‘Because Portuguese traders and merchants used to run Nagasaki.’

  ‘And that is changing?’

  ‘It’s rumoured that through the new governor, the Shogun will exert greater control over future trade.’

  ‘That’s not good.’ Father Joaquim’s shoulders slumped.

  Mateus nodded. ‘The Shogun does not like the Portuguese making so much money at the expense of the Japanese. It’s as though he thinks we’re picking his pockets.’

  ‘Hence the pancado system.’

  ‘Yes. More and more, the Governor and the authorities are meddling in trade issues, squeezing our profits.’

  With a hint of mischief in his voice Joaquim said, ‘All the more reason to sell on the black market then.’

  Mateus could not stop an explosive laugh at the priest’s grasp of moral ambiguity. ‘Exactly so, Father. Some merchandise we sell under the pancado system, and some – our best – we sell on the black market.’

  ‘The Japanese do love their Chinese silk,’ said the priest.

  ‘Without question, and right now everyone wants their silk in red and black.’

  ‘And this is where I would like to help – with the silk trade.’

  ‘Oh?’ Mateus raised an eyebrow.

  ‘My silver loan is not a gift; I want to repay you, and I have the language skills and knowledge of local customs to help you.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Let me negotiate for you on the black market.’

  Mateus paused for a moment, considering Joaquim’s proposal. ‘It’s a tempting offer, Father, but I’m not so sure. There are more complications now. The Dutch are growing more jealous of our strongholds in Nagasaki and Macao.’

  ‘Some things never change.’

  ‘They do a little.’ Mateus shifted his footing. ‘The Dutch are becoming more aggressive in their tactics.’

  ‘That is nothing new. Are they still sacking our ships at sea?’

  ‘They try.’

  ‘And still moaning about their lousy port in Hirado?’

  ‘Yes. I suspect they’ll never be happy with that small fishing village. They want to control Nagasaki and they’re jealous and unpredictable in their troublemaking.’

  ‘I still would like to help, Mateus. I would like the ability to pay back the loan.’

  ‘It could be very dangerous for you, Father. If the authorities discover your identity, they will kill you, painfully.’

  ‘We cannot live our lives in fear, Mateus.’

  The merchant was quiet. ‘Let me think about it. I need to secure the loan first.’

  ‘As you wish. You will make enquiries tonight?’

  ‘All the influential Portuguese traders with the deep pockets will be at the gaijin bar tonight. Let’s see how the night goes.’

  ‘Thank you, Mateus.’ Father Joaquim placed a hand on his chest and bowed. ‘Your help will save lives.’

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  31 May 1626

  Fukae, Shimabara Peninsula, Kyushu

  Daimyo Shigemasa, a dozen of his most senior samurai on horseback and a hundred on foot entered a village in Fukae, one of the largest farming communities in his domain. A number of villagers scurried out of sight making for their homes, while others bravely stayed with their families to greet their daimyo.

  ‘Welcome, Lord Shigemasa!’ a farmer cried out.

  ‘Welcome, Lord,’ a crowd echoed, and bowed several times.

  ‘I remember this village,’ Shigemasa said sourly. He scrutinized it from atop his tall black horse. ‘Always behind on rice production.’

  Shigemasa crossed his arms and gazed around at the tired-looking villagers. He saw a plethora of women and elderly people, but few strong-looking men able to perform the heavy manual farming work he required. He observed their bones outlined through their skinny frames and the dark circles under their eyes due to a lack of sleep.

  ‘We try our best, Lord Shigemasa!’ a peasant exclaimed. He ran up to the Daimyo, carrying a wooden pot filled with cold water. ‘Please, have cool water after your long journey.’ A samurai pushed the man away roughly.

  Shigemasa ignored the peasant and continued, ‘This village is the most unproductive in my entire domain. You have the greatest number of farmers but produce the least amount of rice.’

  ‘We work hard for you, Lord, every day! Our fields are not as fertile as others, but we work day and night,’ a man dared to say.

  ‘Do not offer me excuses for your laziness!’

  A senior farmer approached Shigemasa and his large horse with another pot of water. ‘Please, Lord, take cold water. You and your horse must be very thirsty.’

  ‘I
’m here for rice, not water!’ Shigemasa roared. He kicked the pot out of the farmer’s hands, sending it to the ground, where it shattered.

  The terrified farmer took a few steps back.

  ‘This soil looks perfectly fertile,’ the Daimyo announced.

  Another farmer stepped forward. ‘Lord, we would not lie to you nor make excuses, but the soil on these lands is not deep and there are many rocks.’

  ‘Silence!’

  ‘Please, Lord, let us move to another parcel of land,’ a young peasant cried out. ‘We can improve our production on better soil.’

  ‘You will not move to other lands. These are your lands!’ The Daimyo observed the stacks of filled rice bags. ‘Bring me your rice production – at once.’

  ‘Yes, Lord,’ the peasants answered and ran in all directions to collect every bag of rice in the village.

  ‘How many sacks of rice do I see before me?’ the warlord asked.

  A peasant counted the bags. ‘Almost forty large sacks of rice, Lord,’ he answered as he looked down and bit his lips.

  ‘I require one hundred sacks of rice from this village. This is less than half of your production quota.’

  ‘Please, Lord, it is not possible,’ a distressed woman near the rear of the crowd cried out.

  ‘Silence!’ The Daimyo glared at the peasants. ‘All across my domain I hear excuses for failing to meet quotas, but your village is the worst.’

  ‘Please, Lord, you own our entire lives,’ another farmer lamented. ‘It is not possible to work any harder.’

  ‘Nonsense. You are slacking in the fields and there must be a reason. Are there Christians among you?’

  ‘No, Lord,’ the village leader replied. ‘We are Buddhists. You know this.’

  ‘Then why are you slacking in the fields?’

  No one dared reply.

  ‘The other daimyo are getting richer and producing more rice, but not me!’ Shigemasa shouted in frustration. ‘If you are not slackening because of Christianity, then it means you are slackening because you are too old to work in the fields.’ He glared at the elderly in the village.