by John Allyn
Hara was bitterly disappointed but Oishi took this development more philosophically.
“At least now we know who we can depend on,” he told Hara with a wry smile.
“But what about the siege?” Hara asked anxiously. “You said that would be our next step if the petition was denied, didn’t you?”
Oishi pointed to the group outside. “There can be no siege. Not with those few men at our disposal. And if you look closely you’ll see that many of them are either too young or too old to put up a good fight.”
Hara shook his head. “Then we have no choice but to surrender and give up everything without a struggle.”
Oishi smiled, but it was not a pleasant smile. “Oh, we still have a choice to make.” Then he stepped out before the assembly and raised his arm for silence. In his hand he held two documents.
“I have here a petition to the Shogun’s representatives requesting leniency for the survivors of the Asano clan—that they be allowed to keep their land and other possessions because of their long and illustrious history of service to the Shogun and his ancestors before him. It is merely a polite request for restitution on behalf of Lady Asano and Daigaku Asano and whatever its effect I don’t think it can do any harm. I am asking Gengoemon Kataoka to deliver it, in spite of his recent hard journey, because he is familiar with Edo and because he has a certain ability to think quickly and to make the best of any bargain that might be offered.”
Kataoka rose from his cross-legged position in front of the gathering and came to take the document with a respectful bow. Then he sat down again as Oishi continued.
“Now, if the petition is accepted, we have nothing more to worry about. If, on the other hand, it is rejected, we must make a choice regarding our course of action. As I see it, we have but two alternatives: either to kneel before the castle and commit seppuku as a final protest, or to surrender the castle peaceably . . . and then split up and wait until the right moment to take revenge on Kira himself!”
Hara was the first to his feet with a cheer for the latter course and the others were not far behind him. Oishi smiled briefly at their enthusiasm, but then raised his hand again with a more serious expression.
“I must make sure you realize that however appealing such a course may appear to men of action like you, it is still against the law to take revenge. So it would be well to keep in mind that even if we are successful we will be guilty of an illegal act. I need hardly add that the punishment is death. Let no one have any illusions about that. Whether we commit seppuku by our own hands or are crucified by the executioner, our ultimate end is to die. This is a band of death, but death with honor!”
The cheering was not as robust now, but it rang with sincerity and Oishi was satisfied that those present could be depended on to stand and fight to the end. Now he unrolled his second document and laid it flat on the steps of the castle. It was a solemn pledge of loyalty and he asked them all to step forward and sign. As the men gathered eagerly around, Oishi noticed that one boy among them appeared to be barely in his teens, and he stopped him to question him about his age. The boy swore he was sixteen, however, and his manner was so stalwart that Oishi did not have the heart to challenge him further. He was allowed to sign, as were all the others present.
When it came to Hara’s turn, he made a gesture with the writing brush toward the door of the castle and Oishi turned to see to what he was pointing. The door was slightly ajar and Oishi could see enough of the man standing inside to recognize him as Mimura. At first he was angry that a servant should be so bold as to eavesdrop on their meeting, but then he got the full import of Hara’s signal.
“Mimura,” he called, and the man stepped awkwardly out into the sunlight. Oishi turned to the group. “Here is another who would join our forces. Even though he is only of servant rank, I for one have no objection to his becoming our comrade in arms. He has demonstrated that he is as loyal as any of us. What do you say?”
There was a general murmur of approval, led by Hara, and the overjoyed Mimura was allowed to sign. His was the sixty-second signature and with it Oishi’s band of vengeance was formed.
Chapter Five
After Kataoka had left for Edo, Oishi and his men turned their attention to bringing the castle and the surrounding land into first-class condition. If they waited until the petition was officially denied, and they had to admit to themselves that this was a definite possibility, there would not be time to put things in order before the Shogun’s representatives arrived.
Work was begun on minor repairs to the castle itself and a complete inventory made of all property. Ono, as treasurer, was given the responsibility of bringing accounts up to date and collecting all currency in circulation. This would not be surrendered to the Shogun, but distributed among members of the clan at the proper time as Oishi saw fit.
On horseback, Oishi toured the area, trying to anticipate any discrepancies the Shogun’s representatives might notice. He found stone bridges that were crumbling away, wooden fences with broken boards, thatched roofs that needed repairing, small roadside temples and shrines that had become shabby looking, and a certain carelessness in town about keeping filth out of the streets. When he saw one peasant woman hold her child over an open gutter, he called to her to use a bucket instead. In this instance he was concerned not only about appearances but also with the practical aspects of using the material in the fields as fertilizer.
Everyone was set to work. On the biggest job of all, the repair of the main road from the town to the castle, even the samurai pitched in beside the farmers and townspeople to get the job done. This project entailed hauling large quantities of rocks from nearby stream beds and long bucket brigades were quickly set up. Soon hundreds of laborers were lined up along the road, toiling in the chill sunlight from dawn till dusk, often with frost on their breaths as well as perspiration on their bodies.
Oishi was checking the progress on the road one morning in late March when Kataoka arrived back in Ako, breathless and dirty. The dust was caked in the wrinkles of his face and his eyes were tiny red slits in the grime as he tumbled off his horse almost at Oishi’s feet.
“I am sorry,” he said, bowing his head into the dusty road. “Somehow, along the route, I missed the Shogun’s representatives. They had already left Edo when I got there.”
For a moment Oishi felt a twinge of despair. His first thought was of Lord Asano’s little daughter. He did not know what instructions the Shogun might have given in her case. Her mother had been forbidden to see any member of the clan, but did this apply to her own daughter? He realized that time was running out and questioned Kataoka abruptly.
“Why didn’t Horibe send word? He was supposed to be watching the exits to the city, wasn’t he?”
“They left by a roundabout way,” Kataoka answered. “You should know that popular feeling in Edo is against Kira, and the Shogun evidently thought it best to keep the departure of his troops a secret.”
Oishi was both surprised and pleased to hear that public opinion was with them, but that did not alter the fact that officials were on their way to confiscate the castle.
“Do you have any idea when they will reach Ako?”
“Within two or three days,” was Kataoka’s best estimate.
Oishi quickly began to revise in his mind his plans for additional renovation of the castle, but his thoughts were interrupted by Kataoka’s next remark.
“I hope I didn’t exceed my authority, Oishi-dono, but when I found I was too late I went to see Daigaku Asano at his uncle’s house. I thought they might have some instructions about the petition.”
“Yes?” said Oishi, with a flash of interest.
“They read the petition and seemed quite upset by it. They said that under no circumstances must you resist the confiscation of the castle. And they sent you this letter.” He took it out of his breastplate and handed it over with an apologetic bow.
Oishi took it and opened it to read. Daigaku and Toda both felt that
the idea of a petition was a good one and that most of his requests seemed reasonable enough—although they had some objections to Oishi’s reference to the difficulty he was having controlling his men, which could be interpreted as a threat—but they insisted that the castle be given up peaceably even if the petition were refused.
Oishi smiled. He was not surprised at the letter’s contents and Kataoka was relieved to see that he was not to be reprimanded for his actions. There was one more piece of information Oishi wanted very much to know, but he deliberately put his question in an offhand, casual manner.
“And what of Lord Kira? He’s recovering from his wound, I imagine?”
Kataoka looked at him quickly. He knew Oishi too well to think that any of his questions were idle.
“Horibe reports that he is well on the road to recovery. We have a man posted day and night near the entrance to the castle and when Kira is able to travel we will be informed.”
Oishi’s jaw set more firmly as he visualized Kira alive and well and behaving as though nothing had happened. A flash of fury went through him but he resolutely put it down. There would be time for Kira later. As long as he stayed within the Shogun’s castle there was nothing they could do.
Later, in the same lesson room where he had received Hara on that black night when their world began to crumble, Oishi went over the situation with Yoshida. He told the old man it relieved his mind to have written authority to give up the castle to the Shogun’s men, but he was concerned about Daigaku and his uncle’s attitude regarding the injury done to the name of Asano. They seemed to be unconcerned about such matters as justice or revenge and never once even mentioned Kira’s name.
Yoshida nodded. “I share your concern, my son. But look at it from their standpoint. They feel themselves so close to the brink of a new disaster—such as losing their own lives or property—that they have no desire to look back on the tragedy that brought all this about. But, even though they are in the family, we here in Ako are most immediately affected. We are the ones who are about to lose our home, not they.”
Oishi agreed that he was probably right and resolved for their own sake not to involve either Daigaku or his uncle in any plan for revenge which might be formulated. In this way he could justify any call for violent action with the knowledge that they would remain blameless and Yoshida agreed that this was wise policy.
The next order of business was to give his men their final orders. When they were all assembled in front of the castle again, Oishi read Daigaku’s letter to them and was depressed to see so many crestfallen faces among his warriors. It was irrevocable now that they would have to surrender, barring a last minute miracle, and they were too practical minded to believe in miracles. Oishi advised them that even if the Shogun’s representatives who came to Ako received the petition favorably, they would probably not have the authority to act on it and would have to refer the matter to Edo for a final decision. So there was nothing for them to do but prepare to evacuate. The time had come to tell their families to start packing, keeping in mind that they would only be allowed to take what they could personally carry. He stressed that they must obey the Shogun’s order of confiscation to the letter and do nothing that would compromise Daigaku’s eventual chances of inheritance.
Now came the business of dividing the clan’s monetary assets. First there were donations to the local temple to ensure that the graves of the ancestors would be well tended. Next, a sum representing Lady Asano’s widow’s dowry was set aside. After that the clan’s paper money was redeemed at a fair rate for both retainers and townspeople alike. So far there were no complaints about the way the finances were being handled, but now, with a meaningful glance at Hara, Oishi proposed that the bulk of what was left be put aside for “the restoration of the house of Asano.” As he had expected, there were mutterings from some of the men, including Ono, who had more seniority and therefore a larger share coming than most of them, but their objections became no stronger. In this company no one was bold enough to openly dispute such an allotment. What was left was then divided among the men according to rank and length of service. The amounts they received were not large and all realized that they were facing severe economic hardship if not outright destitution.
As they stepped forward politely one by one to receive their shares, Oishi pondered what was to become of them. Now they would be samurai no more, but would bear the despised title of ronin. They would be lonely men, without station or prestige, still privileged to wear their two long swords, but without any just cause to serve. No wonder it was so easy for ronin to come to bad ends, he thought. Some became beggars or priests, harmless enough pursuits, but others became professional mercenaries, fighting for any cause which paid enough to command their loyalty. In some cases they became nothing more than common criminals, using their prowess in the military arts to prey on those less strong, and Oishi realized that even the men of Ako could slip into the same pitfalls if he proved incapable of holding them together.
When all the shares had been distributed, Oishi felt called upon to say one final word. The men finished counting their money and gave him their full attention, many of them wondering if they would ever meet together again. His words were brief and to the point.
“Wherever you go, whatever you do, remember that in my mind and in our late lord’s mind you are always samurai of the house of Asano. Please behave in such a way as to bring nothing but honor to the memory of this house. I know that Lord Asano is watching you at all times just as I know that he watches me. Please make his spirit happy—not sad.”
There was silence for a moment and then the men began to leave. The last meeting they would ever attend in Ako was over.
“Here they come!” shouted the guard at the gate, and the word was quickly passed along to Oishi. He quickly finished his morning bowl of rice and hurried to the watchtower overlooking the plain in front of the castle. From the large cloud of dust approaching down the road it was apparent that the Shogun’s troops had indeed arrived.
Swiftly now he gave the necessary orders: all men in semibattle dress, all guard stations fully manned, all available mounts saddled and ready to ride. He himself dressed for riding, not for battle, but he also wore a thick, lacquered breastplate carrying the great gold crest of Asano. Then he joined the other horsemen mounted behind the closed gates, taking a position where he could see out through an observation slit.
Leading the advancing foot soldiers across the plain was the Shogun’s representative, a distinguished-looking man in his fifties on a well-groomed horse, which he advanced at a stately walk. Oishi knew that if the men of Ako made any show of resistance the neighboring daimyo would be obliged to put their forces at the Shogun’s disposal, but at the moment there was only this one small company of foot soldiers marching against him, and he had to admire the cool deliberateness of its leader.
The man on horseback continued to move forward, noting and appreciating the neat appearance of the castle and its approaches. He was more than halfway across the plain when his second in command, a plump, nervous dignitary who was also on horseback, called his attention to the castle gates which were now slowly opening.
As Oishi’s group of men appeared in the opening, the breathing of the approaching troops became faster, but they relaxed again as Oishi and his men rode slowly out in strict formation, in the manner of troops on parade. The leader of the Shogun’s forces noted that their horses were too well groomed, but he reflected that his own mount would not meet with the Shogun’s approval either and dismissed the matter from his mind as the two groups drew nearer.
“Welcome to the castle of Asano,” said Oishi in formal tones as he halted his men and saluted. The Shogun’s representative stopped and bowed his head in polite acknowledgment of this courteous reception. The tension was broken and the fat little deputy commander mopped his brow.
This mutually respectful exchange set the tone for the relationship that existed during the next few days while the forma
lities of the transfer of ownership went on. To Oishi’s satisfaction, the senior representative, whose name was Araki, was visibly impressed by the condition of the property and by the smart salutes he and his men received from the impeccable guards.
At the first opportunity, when the Edo group had had time to rest after their long journey, Oishi presented his petition. Along with it he recited the history of the Asano clan all the way back to service under the first Shogun, Ieyasu, and concluded that they were willing to make any sacrifice if Daigaku were made successor to their late beloved Lord Asano, even to committing seppuku before his grave.
Araki could not help but be impressed by the sincerity of Oishi and his men and promised to see what he could do on their behalf. He explained that he was in no position to personally make any guarantees but he would do what he could to see that the petition received proper attention at Tsunayoshi’s court. He even went so far as to write a personal recommendation and dispatch it with the petition to Edo by special messenger.
Oishi was encouraged by this and felt that he could rely on Araki to follow up on the matter when he returned to Edo. There was no reason to doubt the promises made by one old warrior to another and Oishi dared to hope that something would eventually come of their plea.
The inspection of the castle and surrounding territory took five days. At the end of that time, Araki declared that as official representative of the Shogun he was satisfied that the property was accurately inventoried and in good condition. He was ready to take possession.
That night Oishi went again to Kegaku-ji, the Asano family temple. Here he found many of his men had gathered to say farewell to the ancestral tombs and to one another. Oishi personally spoke to each one and told those in his volunteer group to spread the word as to where he could be located, but asked that no one try to reach him for a period of at least two months so that a conspiracy would not be suspected. He gave each a sincere message of hope that eventually honor would be restored to their lord’s name, although inwardly he could not help but feel certain misgivings about their being able to stay together as a band. He knew that separation was bound to weaken his position as leader and that discipline and morale, no matter how high now, would deteriorate with time.