by Shaun Curry
With him in the torture chamber at the moment were members of the Shogun’s Bakufu cabinet and several Buddhist warrior monks. The cabinet members and monks, who witnessed the almost daily torture sessions, were also becoming inured to the pain inflicted on prisoners – most of them Christians.
Today, torturers had shackled a young Japanese man by his wrists and ankles to metal plates fixed to the wall. After months of imprisonment he was filthy and starving, but, given the circumstances, still relatively healthy. And, as yet, the torture had not bent his spirit. The Shogun was determined to change that.
Masayoshi stood to one side, awaiting orders as the young Shogun approached the man, almost the same age as himself. ‘You are Akihiko, neh?’ the Shogun said.
‘Yes,’ the shackled young man answered in a soft voice.
‘Do you know who I am?’
‘Hai.’
‘They say you are strong.’ The Shogun eyed the young man. ‘I’m told you have survived six months in my jail. That is impressive.’
Akihiko did not reply.
‘They also tell me you give your food to save other prisoners.’
Akihiko continued to remain silent. Masayoshi watched him, knowing they would soon call upon him to burn or cut parts of this young man’s body – it was his job. But today, for some reason, detaching himself was more difficult.
The prison was narrow and dark, and stank of sweat, human evacuations, mould, gore, and terror. There was a small opening through which guards passed tiny amounts of food to the gaunt, hungry inmates. The prison’s ceiling was so low most prisoners could not stand upright. Outside, prison guards yelled and screamed at all hours to deprive the prisoners of sleep. Inside, the jail master crammed 150 prisoners into a space built to hold half that number. Each prisoner had a space less than the width of his shoulders. Quarrels and fights were common.
The heat in the summer was blistering, and if a prisoner wanted to wear clothing, the others would loudly object. Clothing took up space and made their neighbours hot. There was no water to wash with, nor were they allowed to cut their hair, shave their beards, or trim their nails. Food was sparse, and for some, nonexistent. Masayoshi’s closest comrades often allowed the prisoners to starve to death, leaving their corpses to lie where they died, emitting hideous smells for days.
Over time, Masayoshi had noticed that Akihiko was not only one of the strongest inmates in the prison, he was also the most generous. On several occasions, he had watched Akihiko give away his food to others and pray with men on their deathbed. It left Masayoshi confused.
Most prisoners in the Edo jail were murderers, rapists, thieves, and other characters who had offended the Shogun. Like Christians and ronin they all somehow posed a threat to his dominance. The truth, Masayoshi admitted to himself, was that Akihiko was probably the least deserving of the torture he was about to endure – much of it at Masayoshi’s hands.
The Shogun stood close to Akihiko, staring at him with cold, narrowed eyes. ‘It seems my jail is not weakening you, so let us see how you respond to mutilation.’
The Shogun looked towards the Buddhist monks and torturers. ‘What do you think?’
‘I think he chose the wrong religion,’ one of the monks answered with a sneer.
‘I think you’re right,’ said the Shogun. ‘But we will show him the path to enlightenment, neh?’
‘I do not fear death,’ Akihiko said. He stared at the Shogun, raising his chin.
‘Your courage is admirable,’ the Shogun commented. ‘It’s too bad you don’t serve me. I am always in need of courageous retainers.’
‘I serve only my Lord Jesus Christ.’
‘And that is the problem, isn’t it?’ the Shogun said. ‘The peasants of this country exist to serve me, not some dead man named Jesus.’
‘He is the true Lord,’ Akihiko whispered.
The Shogun’s eyes narrowed. ‘I am your true Lord. I am the only one people should worship. Your Christianity imperils the fabric of our entire society. And I will stamp it out.’
‘Man was born free to make choices. I choose to follow my Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God.’
‘Let’s see if we can make you choose otherwise,’ the Shogun said. He walked over to a large table displaying instruments of torture. Taking a moment to study them, he selected a large pair of sharp metal scissors and handed them to Yasu, the torturer standing next to Masayoshi.
Yasu grabbed the scissors and bowed to the Shogun.
Together, the Shogun and the two torturers approached Akihiko.
The Shogun stared at Akihiko. ‘You are a beautiful young man. Let’s see if we can change that.’ He gestured to Akihiko’s face. ‘Start by removing his ears.’ The Shogun took several steps back.
Masayoshi grabbed Akihiko’s head from behind so Yasu could perform his grisly task. Despite their sharpness, the torturer had to chop several times as blood gushed and Akihiko screamed in pain. Masayoshi’s stomach began to turn – something he hadn’t experienced in years.
At last, Yasu’s lips curled into a smile. He held up a severed ear up for all to see.
‘Throw it on the floor in front of him,’ the Shogun commanded.
The bloody ear landed with a slap.
Akihiko sagged with exhaustion and pain, looking ashen.
‘This is what your Lord Jesus brings you.’ the Shogun said. ‘I am the mightiest Lord in Japan, neh?’
Akihiko shook his head from side to side.
The Shogun bellowed. ‘Cut off the other ear!’
Masayoshi felt a moment’s remorse, but he could not defy the Shogun. Again, he grabbed Akihiko’s head and held it still as Yasu took the scissors to the other ear.
Akihiko screamed in pain as blood again poured from his head.
Yasu dropped the second ear next to the first in front of Akihiko.
Akihiko’s eyes fluttered as he continued to roll his head from side to side.
‘You do not seem so strong any more,’ the Shogun stated. ‘Are you ready yet to pronounce me your true Lord?’
Akihiko tried to shake his head, but instead collapsed. Only the chains binding him to the wall held him up. Blood and tears of pain coursed down his face and dripped onto the floor.
‘Imbecile!’ the Shogun yelled in frustration. ‘How dare he deny me!’
The Shogun scurried over to the table. ‘What shall we choose next?’
One of the Buddhist monks approached the table and chose a bamboo saw. ‘I think we should saw off his feet.’
‘Do it. Hold his feet,’ the Shogun ordered the torturers. ‘Take him down and saw them off.’
Akihiko was freed from his chains, and held down on the ground. The monks held him down and readied his body for the removal of his feet. Akihiko came to and resisted, straining to free himself. For a moment his struggling worked, then Yasu grabbed a metal pipe and pounded Akihiko’s head and body until he was unconsciousness again.
The Shogun gave Yasu an approving look and nodded.
With a determination borne of fear for his own life and limbs, Masayoshi took the saw and sliced off Akihiko’s left foot, just below the ankle, while Yasu sawed off the right foot. The young Christian’s blood splattered over everyone standing nearby, but after a few minutes of gruelling work, Akihiko’s feet were removed.
‘Place his ears and feet in that basket,’ the Shogun instructed, ‘and leave them in front of him where he can see them. Hang him back up. And bring in the physician. I do not want this man to die yet.’
‘But why?’ a Buddhist monk asked.
‘These Christians die too fast,’ the Shogun answered. ‘I want to heal him so we can torture him again.’
‘As you wish, Lord Shogun,’ the monk replied. Several of his comrades ran off to find a physician.
The Shogun stared at the unconscious Christian hanging from the wall. ‘As Nami Amida Buddha himself is my witness, this Christian man will profess me, the Shogun of Japan, his Lord before his last day.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
18 June 1626
Nagasaki City, District of Nagasaki, Kyushu
As the early evening air cooled, Governor Mizuno Kawachi and a small entourage of senior officials walked up a long road towards the home of Deputy-Lieutenant Governor Heizo Suetsugu Masanao.
Elegant trees and shrubs lined the immaculate road leading to the Deputy-Lieutenant’s home, where workers had placed large boulders and rocks to enhance the appeal of the pathway. Perched on a small slope on the mountainside, the Deputy-Lieutenant’s home had a spectacular view of the city below, affording a serene panorama of the sea and the surrounding leafy green mountains.
Governor Kawachi and his entourage made their way towards the majestic gates, where dozens of staff and samurai greeted them.
Servants escorted the new Governor and his retainers through an immaculate garden with a stream, waterfalls, and magnificent bonsai trees to the front entrance of Daikan Suetsugu’s home, which boasted an immense curved thatched roof, at least half the size of the overall structure. Residents of Nagasaki could see the impressive roof from a great distance. Shaped in a temple style, the curved eaves, exquisite in their simplicity, extended beyond the walls, covering the verandas.
It was commonly known that Suetsugu was deeply involved in international trade. He often seized illegitimate vessels, taking for his own any slaves on board, as evidenced by some of his house staff.
Kawachi’s group bowed in cordial fashion and entered the Deputy-Lieutenant’s house, where all removed their street sandals. Suetsugu appeared hurriedly from behind a crowd of servants and approached the new arrivals.
‘Welcome to Nagasaki, Governor.’ Suetsugu stuck out his chest. ‘I thought it more hospitable to host you at my home, rather than meeting at the magistrate’s office.’
‘Thank you.’
Within the Bakufu hierarchy, while Kawachi was the more senior figure than Suetsugu, the Daikan or Deputy-Lieutenant was by far the richer of the two men. Capitalizing on his family connections, Suetsugu had built one of the most powerful trading franchises in Nagasaki.
Nevertheless, despite the deputy’s affluence and power, Suetsugu was all too aware that the Shogun could confiscate his wealth at a moment’s notice if he so chose. The fact caused him endless sleepless nights.
Suetsugu was always scheming ways to manipulate the Bakufu hierarchy in his favour.
At the top was the Shogun, the country’s chief warlord and military leader. Supporting him was the Roju cabinet, then the administrative officials and feudal daimyo.
Most daimyo were wealthy warlords who had inherited their lands, generating additional wealth by taxing the peasant class over whom they ruled, and resorting to bribery and corruption in their quest for more money, land, and power.
Governors and deputy-lieutenant governors helped administer and enforce the laws of the Bakufu regime and were appointed by the Shogun. These officials also served as his spies in the five major shogunate cities: Osaka, Kyoto, Edo, Sakai, and Nagasaki.
For each town, the Shogun appointed a governor to keep watch, rule, and administer. And to assist the governor, the Shogun also appointed a daikan.
As the newly appointed governor, Kawachi studied Deputy Suetsugu’s magnificent home, trying to gain the measure of the man. It was easy to see the extent of Suetsugu’s incredible wealth. His walls displayed exceptional Chinese art and multiple Buddhist statues, exotic art, and exceptional calligraphy.
Rumours had it that Suetsugu had multiple warehouses throughout Nagasaki to store his more significant assets. His wealth comprised dozens of boxes of gold and silver, vast piles of precious lumber, boxes of coral and exotic foreign tea sets, hundreds of pictures by Chinese artists, thousands of boxes of Chinese articles, dozens of folding screens, and hundreds of swords and other high-quality weapons.
‘Please, make yourself comfortable. May we offer you tea?’ The Deputy lowered himself into a seiza or kneeling position.
The governor nodded and gave a short grunt as he also lowered himself on the opposite side of the table.
‘And how do you find your time in Nagasaki thus far, Governor?’
‘I do not bother with pleasantries. I am here to execute the Shogun’s orders.’
‘Ah. You mean the Christians?’
‘Yes.’
‘Governor Gonroku disappointed the Shogun,’ the deputy said. ‘I know. It was me who told him about Gonroku’s failings.’
‘You told him?’
‘Yes, but I was not the only one. The Shogun has many spies in Nagasaki.’
‘It appears little goes unnoticed here.’
‘The Shogun knows everything.’ The Deputy signalled his servants to pour tea, starting with the Governor. ‘So, Governor, how will you conduct your administration in a different way from your unfortunate predecessor?’
‘Tomorrow, I will roast several Christians to death.’
‘Ah.’
‘I want my presence felt immediately. I want any remaining Christians to know that their slaughter is coming.’
‘I’m impressed.’ The Deputy nodded his head and gave a small smile. ‘I’m sure this will please the Shogun.’
‘The Shogun has honoured me with this appointment and I will not disappoint him. I want him to know that under my name, we will completely exterminate Christians from Nagasaki and surrounding areas.’
‘And how will you accomplish this, Governor?’
‘Death and torture.’
‘That’s it?’
‘Far from it.’
‘Alas, not all Christians fear death. Some even relish it.’
‘I will use every means available, Deputy-Lieutenant. I will use death and torture first to show that, unlike my predecessor, I am not averse to bloodshed. Killing is easy but not the complete solution.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘It’s easy to create large piles of bodies to put on display as warnings. I want apostates!’
‘You prefer them to renounce their faith rather than suffer death?’
‘Yes. I want to force these Christians to publicly abandon their useless faith.’
‘I’m intrigued. And how will you do this?’
‘I will make beggars of them. I shall conduct raids and routine searches of every home in Nagasaki.’
‘For what purpose?’
‘To discover the occupants’ true identity.’
‘That will take a great deal of men,’ the deputy said.
‘I will offer incentives. If one family betrays another, they will inherit the other family’s home and all their belongings.’
‘A wise plan,’ the Deputy nodded. ‘You will give them a strong incentive to inform on their neighbours.’
‘Greed and fear are powerful tools, used correctly.’
‘Indeed. And if a family is adept at hiding their faith?’
‘I will put pressure on their communities to give them up and place the onus on them. If we discover a Christian hiding in a community, we will kill their neighbours as punishment.’
The Governor sipped his tea with a blank stare and leaned back before continuing. ‘I will also take their homes and deprive them of work, food, and sustenance. I will take everything they have to force them to inform on their neighbours.’
‘Very thorough, Governor. And if all these measures are insufficient?’
‘Death, Deputy. If they do not recant, they will face torture and death. Can I count on your help?’
‘Of course, Governor. I have no reservations about persecuting Christians.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Why would you question my resolve?’ The Deputy sat upright, his body rigid.
‘Because you used to be a Christian.’
‘I apostatized a long time ago.’ The Deputy raised his hands. ‘My loyalties lie with the Shogun and the Bakufu now.’
‘The Shogun hopes that is the case, Deputy.’
Suetsugu placed his tea on the table. ‘Gov
ernor Kawachi, look around you. Do you think I would give up all this wealth because of a repulsive foreign religion?’ Suetsugu stared at the governor. ‘I chose money over God a long time ago.’
Kawachi studied him for a few moments. Then he seemed to come to a conclusion, nodded curtly and said, ‘Good.’
‘Rest assured, Governor. My apostasy is irrevocable and resolute, and I will prove it to you.’
‘Oh?’
‘With your own eyes you will witness me executing Christians.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
19 June 1626
Fields of Arima, Shimabara Peninsula
Even though she was only six years old, Haruko had quickly learned not to cry out as she slid along through the mud like a small anchor. Several backhands to the sides of her face had made a convincing impression, but her tired legs could not keep up, and her whimpering was involuntary as the other nineteen villagers, tied by their wrists to a bamboo pole, dragged her through the pouring rain, yanked from the front by a burly, short-tempered samurai.
The Daimyo’s samurai moved the villagers as fast as possible in the soggy conditions. There were three poles and at the front of each were the tallest, mostly men, followed by the women, with the shortest and children at the rear. At the back, the youngest children, like Haruko, were dragged like debris if they couldn’t keep up.
Haruko’s mother near the front could only pray, as she twisted her head to steal glimpses of her quietly weeping child. With no food, little sleep, and the falling rain as their only water source, samurai had tugged, pushed, and whipped the villagers non-stop since their village had burned twenty-four hours earlier. Along with their physical exhaustion, despair at the death of Master Yamaguchi had overtaken many of the villagers, evidenced by their sagging posture, resignation to their fate, and red eyes. He had been more than the village leader; he’d been an intimate friend and confidant to young and old, imparting wisdom to any willing to hear it.