council that no other lord could fill. Lines were soon drawn between two factions of warlords. On
one side was Tokugawa Ieyasu, the most powerful lord remaining, backed by Damian Kuroda, Dario
SŌ and Katō Kiyomasa, among others. On the other side was Ishida Mitsunari, backed by Augustin
Konishi and others.
It was an interesting division of allegiances. Ishida had a long military career, but in the less
glamorous world of supplies and logistics. Consequently, much of the old guard regarded him as a
samurai in name only, and flocked in- stead to the banner of Ieyasu the career soldier. Ishida gained
support from many of the surviving Christians, although most of the apostates who had already
given up their religion were welcomed into Ieyasu’s forces. Mean- while, Ieyasu gained support from
an unexpected quarter, when he impounded the cargo of the Liefde, a Dutch merchant ship that had
run aground in Kyūshū. Among her many chests of cargo, the Liefde had carried 19 cannons, 500
muskets, 5,000 cannonballs and 300 chain shot. Her English navigator, William Adams (1564-1620),
met Ieyasu on several occasions, and was treated cordially but suspiciously. He would eventually
become one of Ieyasu’s henchmen.
The news of a ‘revolt’ by Ishida in the western provinces came as no surprise to Ieyasu in
May 1600. Although there were several other skirmishes and sieges worthy of note, the most
infamous and decisive battle between the two factions did not occur until 21 October that year, at a
critical crossroads called Sekigahara.
Conditions were a test of martial resolve. A great storm the night before kept both sides
awake as they listened to the rain pounding against their tents. They, at least, were the lucky ones,
as many of the 1ower—ranking samurai were stuck out in the open, protected to some extent by
sedge raincoats that gave them the appearance of haystacks on legs.
Hilltops close by were occupied by either side, Down in the valley, Ishida’s men toiled
miserably on the construction of trenches, ready to repel an expected assault by Ieyasu’s supporters.
Much of the Sekigahara plain was `fields’, although in Japan such a simple statement is misleading —
even after harvesting, these ‘fields’ were actually rice paddies, likely to accumulate unwelcome
depths of water after a hard nights November rain.
In the small hours of the morning, the storm slackened, turning into a thick fog so
impenetrable that the first shots of the day were fired when two groups of rival samurai literally
bumped into each other. There were shots in the dim morning light, shouts and the ringing clashes
of swords before the commanders on both sides ordered an immediate withdrawal. Both sides
feared that the clash had been a planned ambush. It was only as the rising sun burned off the mist
that the samurai in the valley could truly see who was where.
The forces drawn up were not anonymous. Banners displaying the distinctive crests of each
house made it abundantly clear who was where. The triple hollyhock leaves of House Tokugawa; the
stark, bold swastika of House Hachizuka; the black dots of House Terazawa; and
the nine stars of House Hosokawa - they were all prominently visible among Ieyasu’s forces. Among
Ishida’s forces there were many more cruciform designs in evidence the stark cross with cross-bars
of Augustin Konishi, and the cross within a circle of Kyūshū’s Shimazu clan. It was the Tokugawa who
attacked first. Contrary to his instructions to wait for orders, Ii Naomasa, leader of the ‘Red Devils’
cavalry squadron, charged straight at the enemy. The identity of the attackers was unquestionable
Ii’s helmet was topped by a giant pair of horns, and his armour and the armour of all his horsemen
was unmistakably scarlet.
Ii’s decision was yet another manifestation of the samurai’s eternal desire to be in the front
line. The honoured position had actually been promised to one of his allies, who now hurled abuse
at Ii’s Red Devils as they galloped past. Ii’s excuse, ready to hand when the fighting was over, was
that he was merely going out to ‘check’ the disposition of enemy troops, and had no intention of
engaging them. This, of course, was news to the enemy, who charged out to meet him, initiating
battle by default.
The Red Devils cut a wide path through the enemy, wheeling to avoid a second
concentration of troops and scattering back towards safety. Not to be outdone, Ii’s thwarted allies