After the disastrous Battle of Mikatagahara in January 1573, contemporaries might have been forgiven for thinking that Tokugawa Ieyasu was finished. His army had been defeated and scattered, several important fortresses had fallen, and Takeda forces were camped deep inside his home province of Mikawa.
The Battle of Mikatagahara was a disaster from which Ieyasu might not have recovered.
Fate, however, was on Ieyasu’s side. Though Mikatagahara had been a catastrophe, the Takeda would prove unable to take advantage of their victory. Not long after the Battle, Takeda Shingen, arguably the most formidable warrior of his day, fell ill (some sources say he was wounded in battle, though later stories of Ninja assassinations are likely mythological).
With their leader bedridden, the Takeda campaign stalled. They tried to keep the full extent of his illness secret, but when Shingen died in May, the once-mighty Takeda army began a full retreat from Mikawa. The Art of War writes that a general should know his enemy, and Ieyasu, student of war that he was, seems to have realised that something was amiss.
An image depicting Shingen’s illness. He was arguably the most formidable warlord of his day, and his death was a huge strategic boon to the Tokugawa.
Under Shingen, the Takeda were aggressive and highly capable, but after his (still secret) death, Ieyasu identified several weaknesses and launched a counter-attack, the success of which effectively confirmed his theory that Shingen was gone. With the momentum swinging back towards the Tokugawa, several clans that had defected to the Takeda switched sides again, and Ieyasu was able to swiftly regain the strength lost at Mikatagahara.
Shingen’s successor, Katsuyori, has been remembered as a poor imitation of his father, though much of what was recorded about him was written by his enemies. In the short term, however, Katsuyori and Ieyasu were fairly evenly matched, and throughout 1574 and into 1575, they traded blows, with the momentum shifting back and forth.
Takeda Katsuyori. Though perhaps unfairly maligned in later writings, he would prove unable to live up to his father’s legacy.
Ieyasu had something that Katsuyori didn’t, however, a powerful ally. The death of Shingen had removed a serious (possibly existential) threat to the ambitions of Oda Nobunaga, and in 1575, he was finally able to dispatch significant forces to support Ieyasu’s ongoing campaign against the Takeda.
In early 1575, Takeda forces once again advanced against Mikawa province, laying siege to the strategically important Nagashino Castle. Sources suggest that the Takeda invested the castle with 15,000 men, whilst the defenders numbered only 500. Despite the disparity in strength, the fortress was situated in terrain that made it difficult for the Takeda to bring their full forces to bear, and for a time, the garrison held out.
The site of Nagashino Castle as it appears today.
The situation changed dramatically, however, when the garrison’s food supplies were burned. In response, a messenger, Torii Suneemon, slipped through Takeda’s lines and made it to a combined Oda-Tokugawa army that was supposed to have numbered some 38,000 men (30,000 Oda and 8,000 Tokugawa, which goes some way to demonstrating the power dynamic in this ‘alliance’.)
Suneemon then tried to return to Nagashino to inform the garrison that help was on the way, but he was instead captured by the Takeda. Katsuyori offered him a deal: if he told the garrison that no help was coming, he’d be set free. Instead, Sunemon shouted that relief was on the way, and the garrison should hold out, for which he was crucified in full view of the walls.
A later (and somewhat dramatised) depiction of Suneemon exhorting the garrison of Nagashino to keep resisting.
When the Oda-Tokugawa forces arrived two days later, the garrison was still holding out, and the Takeda turned to give battle. Although the Battle of Nagashino is one of the most famous and decisive battles of the Sengoku Jidai, scholars disagree on what actually happened. Nagashino has long been famous for Nobunaga’s innovative use of massed firearms, with thousands of foot soldiers firing in a three-rank system that kept up a constant hail of fire that decimated the Takeda’s famous cavalry charge.
The exact number of firearms and the tactics used are still debated, but what is known for sure is that Nagashino represented a blow to the Takeda Clan from which they would never recover. In the aftermath, both Ieyasu and Nobunaga moved to take advantage, extending their control over Suruga and Totomi Provinces, and boxing the Takeda up in their traditional home in Kai and Shinano Province (modern Yamanashi and Nagano prefectures)
An 18th-century depiction of the Battle of Nagashino, with the Oda-Tokugawa forces on the left, and Nagashino Castle on the far right.
Though Ieyasu had been on the winning side, the victory over the Takeda would mark the time when his relationship with Nobunaga ceased to be an alliance of equals. There was no disputing Nobunaga’s power by this point, and the resources at his disposal dwarfed anything Ieyasu could deploy. Consequently, in the aftermath of Nagashino, Ieyasu found himself a vassal to the Great Lord.
Perhaps the best evidence of how far the relationship had shifted came in 1579, when, on Nobunaga’s order, Ieyasu had his wife and eldest son put to death on suspicion of conspiring with the Takeda to arrange Nobunaga’s assassination.
Ieyasu’s first wife, Lady Tsukiyama.
The long-held theory was that Lady Tsukiyama, Ieyasu’s wife, and his eldest son, Nobuyasu, were indeed conspiring with the Takeda. Some sources portray Lady Tsukiyama as a scheming, evil woman who seduced men into joining her plot, whilst Nobuyasu is said to have been a cruel, vindictive psychopath who committed acts such as shooting random peasants dead during festivals for no reason other than that they danced poorly.
The catalyst for their death was apparently Nobunaga’s daughter, Tokuhime, who just so happened to be married to Nobuyasu. It is said that she hated her mother-in-law so much that she concocted the entire plot to have both of them removed.
Ieyasu’s eldest son, Nobuyasu, who was either a traitor, a violent lunatic, the victim of a vindictive wife, or a combination of all three, depending on who you believe.
There is another school of thought that suggests Nobunaga had nothing to do with the incident and that Ieyasu and Nobuyasu were instead engaged in a long-term feud. Nobuyasu, apparently supported by his mother, is said to have defied his father’s orders and even been plotting open rebellion, with or without the support of the Takeda.
Faced with such a direct threat to his authority, Ieyasu sought the advice of his overlord, Nobunaga (who also happened to be Nobuyasu’s father in law), who is said to have instructed that, as the matter was an internal family affair, that Ieyasu should do as he thought best, resulting in the execution of Lady Tsukiyama, and Nobuyasu’s seppuku.
Whether Nobunaga gave the order or Ieyasu acted on his own initiative, this incident highlights the situation Ieyasu faced in the late 1570s. Subordinate to Nobunaga’s power, and insecure at home, despite his successes, there was still no reason to believe that Ieyasu was going to be anything other than a footnote in another man’s story.
The Battle of Okehazama in 1560 saw Tokugawa Ieyasu’s masters, the Imagawa, dealt a serious blow at the hands of Oda Nobunaga. In the aftermath, Ieyasu began asserting his independence, and in 1562, the so-called “Kiyosu Alliance” between Ieyasu and Nobunaga was formalised.
The Imagawa, however, were down, but not out, and Ieyasu’s position was far from secure, despite his new alliance. In 1563, the “Mikawa Ikko-Ikki” Rebellion broke out, and in early 1564, when the Imagawa announced their intention to crush Ieyasu, several of his vassals in Mikawa switched sides, joining the Ikko-Ikki or else rising against Ieyasu in anticipation of an Imagawa attack.
The name “Ikko-Ikki” suggests that the uprising was similar to other religiously motivated risings that occurred throughout Japan during this period. Indeed, the focal point seems to have been several temples in Mikawa; however, some scholars now suggest that the uprising was motivated more by economic reasons, and some even go so far as to say that Ieyasu may have provoked the rising, or at least took advantage of it to cement his control of Mikawa Province.
A later depiction of the Battle of Azukizaka. Ieyasu is the figure on the white horse on the right.
While it’s impossible to know for sure, Ieyasu did much to boost his own reputation in putting down the rebellion. At the Battle of Azukizaka (sometimes called the Battle of Batogahara) in January 1564, Ieyasu led his forces in crushing the rebels, despite ferocious fighting. The story goes that Ieyasu charged the enemy fearlessly, and came under heavy gunfire, with several rounds penetrating his armour, but leaving him uninjured, inspiring his men, and leading some rebels to switch sides.
In the aftermath, Ieyasu banned the Jodo Shinshu sect of Buddhism in Mikawa, only to lift the ban in 1567, just a few years later, lending credence to the argument that the fighting had never been about religious issues but about political control of the province.
The Honshuji Temple, one of the focal points of the rebellion, as it appears today.
Before 1566, Ieyasu’s family name was Matsudaira, but around this time, he petitioned the Emperor to change it to Tokugawa. The exact reasons for this are related to the complex (and often impenetrable) genealogies of the Minamoto and Fujiwara Clans, from whom Ieyasu claimed descent. You may remember that Minamoto and Fujiwara were the names of two of Japan’s most ancient and illustrious families, and it was a big deal to claim descent from them.
This would become much more important later, as only a member of the Minamoto could become Shogun (technically), but that was still decades in the future. At the time, the name change was probably more closely associated with prestige and a desire to assert independence from the Imagawa, with a new name symbolising a new era for the clan.
Takeda Shingen.
In 1567, Ieyasu further strengthened his alliance with Nobunaga by marrying his eldest son to Nobunaga’s daughter. However, they were both just nine years old at the time, so the marriage was a political rather than conjugal union. The next year, Ieyasu dispatched forces to support Nobunaga’s march on Kyoto, and in December, he made an alliance with Takeda Shingen and launched a joint invasion of Imagawa territory.
The attack was a success, but the relationship between Ieyasu and Shingen fell apart almost immediately. According to Tokugawa accounts, it had been agreed that Ieyasu would take Totomi Province, and Shingen would take Suruga. However, it wasn’t long before Takeda forces were also crossing into Totomi, in direct violation of the agreement (which may never have existed to begin with).
Ieyasu then sought the support of the Hojo Clan, and their Lord, Ujiyasu, who had his own ambitions for the former Imagawa territory. Together, they successfully pushed the Takeda forces back, and in 1570, Ieyasu moved his base from Okazaki Castle in Mikawa Province to Hikuma, which he promptly renamed Hamamatsu, in Totomi. Later that year, he would further prove his value as an ally of Oda Nobunaga by supporting his campaign against the Azai-Asakura Alliance, fighting in the rearguard in the defeat at Kanegasaki, and then providing important reinforcements at the victorious Battle of Anegawa in July.
In 1571, the alliance would be sorely tested, as the last Ashikaga Shogun, Yoshiaki, sought to rally forces in opposition to Oda Nobunaga, with the ultimate goal of restoring his family’s position. The Anti-Nobunaga coalition (which was, importantly, not necessarily pro-Ashikaga) included the forces of the Azai-Asakura Alliance, the powerful temple of Ishiyama Honganji, and Takeda Shingen, among others.
Ashikaga Yoshiaki
In the aftermath of the defeat of the Imagawa, Hojo Ujiyasu, who had favoured an alliance with Ieyasu against the Takeda, died and was replaced by his son, Ujimasa, who reversed his clan’s diplomatic position and reestablished the alliance with Shingen. At this point, Yoshikai, seeking to take advantage of the pressure he was now under, sought to gain Ieyasu’s support, offering him the position of Kanrei or deputy Shogun in exchange.
Ieyasu refused this offer and chose to retain his alliance with Nobunaga; in response, Takeda Shingen launched an invasion of the Mikawa and Totomi Provinces in September 1572. Leading 20,000 troops, Shingen crossed the Aokuzure Pass, and with the help of several defections amongst Ieyasu’s retainers, swiftly gained control of northern Totomi.
A later depiction of the Takeda Army advancing into Totomi Province.
Meanwhile, a separate force invaded Nobunaga’s territory in Mino, meaning that when Ieyasu called for aid, none was readily available. Ieyasu was forced into an impossible situation; his forces were heavily outnumbered by the advancing Takeda, and a pitched battle would almost certainly end in defeat. On the other hand, if he retreated or even stayed on the defensive, he faced the prospect of losing support from his retainers, some of whom had already proved they were willing to switch sides.
The Takeda headed towards the strategically important Futamata Castle, and Ieyasu had no choice but to try to head them off. The advance guards of both armies clashed at the Battle of Hitokotozaka, and the Tokugawa were soundly beaten, causing them to retreat to the relative safety of Hamamatsu, and giving the Takeda a clear path to lay siege to Futamata, which fell shortly afterwards.
In the aftermath of this disaster, still more Tokugawa retainers switched sides and joined the Takeda, and it was assumed that Shingen, whose army, strengthened by defections and reinforcements, now stood at around 30,000 men, would march on Hamamatsu. Instead, the Takeda forces bypassed it entirely. It has been suggested that this was a ploy to lure Ieyasu out of the powerful fortress, giving Shingen the opportunity to destroy him in the open.
If that was the plan, it worked, and despite urging from his retainers to remain in Hamamatsu, Ieyasu was emboldened by some long-awaited reinforcements from Nobunaga and decided to march out and intercept the Takeda. The result was the disastrous Battle of Mikatagahara, in which the Tokugawa were decisively defeated, with Ieyasu himself only being saved by the bravery of his retainers, who fought a rearguard action so ferocious that Ieyasu was allowed to escape, and the Takeda were convinced to call off the pursuit.
A later depiction of the Battle of Mikatagahara
The winter of 1572 saw the Takeda forces camping deep inside Tokugawa territory, whilst Ieyasu himself was holed up in Hamamatsu, his army scattered, and his prospects looking very bleak.
A painting of Ieyasu supposedly made after the defeat at Mikatagahara. Traditional history suggests that Ieyasu commissioned the painting as a reminder of the defeat and a warning against future arrogance; however, this account doesn’t appear in any sources before the 20th century and is now generally believed to be apocryphal.
The third, and ultimately, final unifier was born Matsudaira Takechiyo in December 1542. His father, Matsudaira Hirotada, is a somewhat mysterious figure, with several theories about the events of his life, and even his death, but what is known with (relative) certainty is that the Matsudaira Clan were the lords of Okazaki Castle in Mikawa Province, which is where Takechiyo (from now on, referred to as Ieyasu) was born.
At the time of his birth, the Matsudaira Clan were a relatively minor family in the service of the more powerful Imagawa. This was an era of constant civil war, and plots, subterfuge, and outright betrayal were common. To pre-empt this, in 1547, when Ieyasu was about five, he was sent to the Imagawa capital at Sunpu (in modern Shizuoka) as a hostage to secure his father’s loyalty.
The boy’s escort was entrusted to one Toda Yasumitsu, who promptly betrayed the Imagawa and instead had Ieyasu sent to Oda Nobuhide. Quite why Yastumitsu did this is debated, with some sources saying he sold Ieyasu for 1000 gold pieces (some say 100), and that the Imagawa promptly attacked his castle, and destroyed his family (though other sources say the Toda held out for a year or more).
Other sources say that the whole thing was actually a ruse arranged by Ieyasu’s father, who had secretly agreed to swear fealty to the Oda and had sent his son as a hostage as proof. It is also suggested that this was the first time Ieyasu met Oda Nobunaga, though historians debate whether the meeting actually took place.
Oda Nobunaga, who may (or may not) have met Ieyasu during his time as a hostage.
Despite the somewhat murky circumstances, Ieyasu’s time as a hostage would not last long, as his father soon passed away (the exact date and circumstances are debated), aged around 23-24, and the Lord of the Imagawa, Yoshimoto, arranged a hostage swap that saw Ieyasu brought to Sunpu, where, despite now being the nominal lord of Okazaki, the Imagawa meant to keep a close eye on him.
This is another page in Ieyasu’s history that the sources disagree on. Some suggest he was still a hostage, whilst others point out that, as the Lord of Okazaki, he was a direct vassal of the Imagawa, and instead, his residence in Sunpu was part of a wider policy of keeping vassals in a central location. Either way, Ieyasu was hardly kept in the dungeons, and in 1557, he married Yoshimoto’s niece, Lady Tsukiyama. (Tsukiyama is a place near Sunpu; her real name is not recorded.)
Lady Tsukiyama, Ieyasu’s first wife. Her real name may have been Sena, but that name doesn’t appear in the records until 1740, 160 years after her death.
A marriage to a close relative of Yoshimoto boosted Ieyasu’s standing within the clan, but it may also have played a part in the Imagawa’s own ambitions. For decades, the Kira Clan, descendants of the Ashikaga Shoguns, had held a preeminient position in Mikawa Province. Though not officially governors (shugo) of the Province, their illustrious descent meant that, at least in terms of lineage, they were equals to the Imagawa.
As we have seen dozens of times before, however, during the Sengoku Jidai, the prestige of an illustrious name wasn’t what it had once been, and the real power in Mikawa lay with the Matsudaira. By binding Ieyasu more closely to his family, Imagawa Yoshimoto sought to use this power to assert Imagawa control over the Province at the expense of the Kira and the other Mikawa Clans.
These ‘other clans’ weren’t all that happy to see the Imagawa take over, however. Much like the rest of the realm, the minor lords of Mikawa were an independent-minded bunch and were more content to rule themselves. An initial outbreak of rebellion was crushed in 1557, only to begin again a year later. This time, Yoshimoto dispatched Ieyasu to play a part in putting the rebellion down, and he got his first taste of battle at the Siege of Terabe Castle in March 1558.
Ieyasu earned praise from Yoshimoto and some of his vassals for his diligent approach to warfare. Later records suggest that he recognised that simply taking Terabe Castle wouldn’t be enough to fully subdue the rebels, so he set about burning the castle town and then several other settlements nearby. This may not sound like praiseworthy behaviour to you and me, but Yoshimoto was so impressed he rewarded Ieyasu with land and a shortsword.
Imagawa Yoshimoto
With the rebellion in Mikawa crushed (for now), Ieyasu turned to securing his position as future lord of Okazaki and eventual master of the whole Province. The problem was that Ieyasu was still largely a stranger to the Mikawa Clans. He had been absent from the Province for most of his young life, first a hostage of the Oda, and later residing in the Imagawa Capital at Sunpu.
To resolve this, Ieyasu issued a seven-point decree outlining his relationship with his vassals. This decree was significant because it made it clear that, should Ieyasu’s vassals feel that he is ruling badly or ignoring their advice, they could appeal to Ieyasu’s father-in-law, Sekiguchi Ujizumi, who remained a powerful figure within the Imagawa Clan hierarchy, suggesting that, at least as late as 1559, Ieyasu intended to remain loyal to the Imagawa.
A later depiction of a battle in Mikawa Province. Like many minor clans at the time, the warriors of Mikawa were a fiercely independent bunch who would fight viciously to preserve that independence.
Since the time of Ieyasu’s Grandfather, the Matsudaira of Mikawa Province had been involved in a long-term conflict with the Oda Clan of neighbouring Owari. When the Mikawa and the Matsudaira came under the Imagawa banner, their new overlords inherited the conflict.
During the rebellion in 1556 and 1558, Oda had supported the anti-Imagawa forces, and Yoshimoto, weary of their interference, made the decision to crush them once and for all, which would have the added bonus of clearing his path to Kyoto. In preparation, Ieyasu was ordered to lead the vanguard and attack several border forts.
He captured two forts and then lifted the siege of Otaka Castle, making it his temporary base. However, news arrived that Yoshimoto had been defeated and killed in a surprise attack at Okehazama. At that, Ieyasu retreated back to Okazaki to plan his next move. Historians debate whether Ieyasu intended to betray the Imagawa right away, or if the decision was a reaction to events, but in early 1561, he attacked Ushikubo Castle, an Imagawa stronghold in Mikawa, signalling his change of allegiance.
It is generally accepted that Ieyasu’s change of heart was brought about by the decision of the Imagawa’s new Lord, Ujizane, to prioritise fighting against the Takeda and Hojo, over the Oda, leaving Ieyasu to fend for himself against Oda Nobunaga, who was very much in the ascendancy after his surprising victory at Okehazama.
A 19th-Century depiction of the Battle of Okehazama, showing Imagawa Yoshimoto (the figure on the left) facing his demise.
The long standing animosity between Mikawa and Owari meant that neither side found it easy to stomach making peace, however, with Nobunaga facing serious issues against the Saito Clan to the north, and Ieyasu having to deal with the vengeful Imagawa, both sides swallowed their pride, and, in 1562, agreed to the so-called Kiyosu Alliance, bringing into existance one of Japanese history’s most important partnerships.
By the late 1580s, Hideyoshi was at the very pinnacle of political and military power in Japan. Jesuit records from the time name him “tyrant” and suggest that he has achieved more power over the realm than any warlord before him.
After the successful conclusion of the Kyushu Campaign, Hideyoshi ordered a new palace built in Kyoto. Called Jurakudai (or Jurakutei in some sources), Toyotomi moved his political base there from Osaka Castle in early 1588, inviting the Emperor Go-Yozei for a feast in April 1588 and obliging powerful Daimyo (such as Tokugawa Ieyasu) to travel there and pay homage to him.
An image of the Emperor visiting Jurakudai.
Having secured personal political power, Hideyoshi then turned his attention to pacifying the realm at large. Through his military campaigns, he had subdued most of the powerful Daimyo in the realm, but there remained the issue of establishing peace at the local level as well.
The Sengoku Jidai exists in the popular imagination as more than a century of conflict, featuring epic clashes between armies of Samurai loyal unto death, and iconic lords like Takeda Shingen, Oda Nobunaga, and Uesugi Kenshin, who were locked in a titanic struggle for ultimate control of the realm.
Uesugi Kenshin and Takeda Shingen engaged in a duel that probably never happened but remains an enduring, if inaccurate, image of the Sengoku-era battlefield.
Whilst there is certainly truth to this image, much like any period of civil war, Japanese society at large had become incredibly violent during the 16th century. At the local level, the decentralised nature of Daimyo rule led to the emergence of Jizamurai, literally “Local Samurai”. These men often started out as armed peasants, usually levied into the armies of some local lord, and sent home again when the campaign ended.
Throughout the 16th century, these Jizamurai gradually achieved military and political influence over their local communities, often being allowed to collect tax revenue on behalf of their lord in exchange for military service, similar to a Knightly Manor in medieval Europe.
This situation worked fine whilst the realm was fractured into dozens of minor domains, but as consolidation followed conquest in the latter half of the 16th century, tensions between “Samurai” and “Jizamurai” became more of an issue. When a lord was defeated, he was usually killed or deprived of his land, meaning that the Jizamurai would often find themselves serving a new lord to whom they had no personal loyalty, leading to frequent conflicts.
Ashigaru on campaign. By the late 16th century, the distinction between Warrior and Peasant was often unclear to the point of being non-existent.
On a societal level, the distinction between Jizamurai and peasants was often academic. Though technically of a higher social status, a Jizamurai usually lived in the village, amongst the peasantry, who would themselves often have access to weaponry and a far greater loyalty to their local Jizamurai than to some powerful Daimyo whom they never saw.
This led to frequent Peasant Uprisings throughout the Sengoku Period, most famously the Ikko-Ikki, who were motivated by religious fervour but were largely made up of peasants and Jizamurai. It wasn’t just political violence; feuds between villages were common and often escalated into violence, as rival communities would quickly resort to the sword to settle disputes over territory, waterways, and other local matters.
In 1587, Hideyoshi passed a law forbidding the use of force to resolve such disputes. Though the exact wording of the law has been lost, by looking at the wording of laws from the later Edo Period, which often referred to ‘precedents’ (i.e., earlier laws), we can infer what Hideyoshi’s decrees may have looked like.
If any villagers or other people in a village engage in a dispute over mountains or waters, using bows, spears, or guns to fight amongst themselves, that entire village shall be punished. – From a decree by Shogun Tokugawa Hidetada -1610
Scholars debate exactly what Hideyoshi intended with this law, with some suggesting that he meant to disarm and pacify the peasants, whilst others say it was more to do with establishing who had weapons, and who had the right to weapons, part of an ongoing centralisation campaign in which a clearer line was to be drawn between Warrior and Peasant.
In 1589, Hideyoshi celebrated the birth of a son, Tsurumatsu, whom he swiftly named as his heir, securing his dynasty for the foreseeable future. The following year, after a series of political slights, he launched a decisive campaign against the Hojo, lords of the Kanto, crushing them in the Odawara Campaign.
A later, heavily stylised depiction of Hideyoshi’s son, Tsurumatsu.
Also in 1590, he crushed the defiant clans of Northern Japan in a swift campaign, and it is at this point that the “Sengoku Jidai” is said to have come to an end. For the first time in more than a century, the country was under the control of one man, and the realm would never again fracture as it once had. Despite this, one decision made by Hideyoshi in the aftermath of the Odawara Campaign had already sown the seeds of his clan’s ultimate downfall.
With the destruction of the Hojo, Hideyoshi offered the five provinces of the Kanto to Tokugawa Ieyasu, in exchange for the three he had originally ruled. At the time, this move was seen as political savvy. It positioned the potentially rebellious Ieyasu farther from Kyoto, and though the five Kanto provinces were nominally richer than the three Ieyasu had given up, they had recently been conquered and were potentially volatile, meaning the move weakened Ieyasu in the short term.
Tokugawa Ieyasu.
Hideyoshi, however, had not considered Ieyasu’s political and economic acumen. His base in the Kanto would eventually serve as a springboard for his own rise to power, demonstrated perhaps most clearly by the fact that Japan’s modern capital, Tokyo, is on the same site as Ieyasu’s was, more than 430 years after he moved there, but we’re getting ahead of ourselves.
The threat from Ieyasu was not Hideyoshi’s only concern, however. In 1591, his brother, Hidenaga, who had proven to be an extremely competent commander and political ally, died in February, followed by his son and heir, the two-year-old Tsurumatsu, in September of the same year.
Toyotomi Hidenaga
Following these deep personal and political blows, Hideyoshi adopted his nephew, Hidetsugu, and then retired, handing control of the clan over to him. As was common at the time, Hideyoshi retained true political power; however, becoming known as the Taiko, a title of respect for former regents.
Also in 1591, with Japan secured, Hideyoshi announced his intention to invade China, launching a brutal invasion of Korea to use it as a base for his main objective. We’ll give the Korean Wars their own post, but for now, we can say that the invasions both highlighted Hideyoshi’s power and brought about political divisions that would ultimately destroy his legacy.
Oda Nobunaga’s death in June 1582 left a power vacuum that was ultimately filled by Toyotomi Hideyoshi (then using the family name Hashiba). Hideyoshi’s tale is remarkable even by the standards of the time: from peasant footsoldier to master of the realm, he epitomised the danger and opportunity of the Sengoku Jidai and would be the man most responsible for bringing it to an end.
Hideyoshi’s origins are suitably mysterious and have been subject to a fair bit of speculation and mythologising, mostly by the man himself. After his rise to power, he is supposed to have spread the rumour that he was a secret bastard of the Emperor, stating that his mother had been a maid in the Imperial Palace and had “grown close to the Emperor’s Body”, which is quite the thing to say about your own mother.
Hideyoshi’s mother. She is often called Omandokoro, though this is the name she took after becoming a nun, and most sources think her birth name was Naka.
Less mum-shaming sources suggest that Hideyoshi was born in 1536 or 37 in Owari Province, now part of the modern city of Nagoya. His father, usually recorded as Kinoshita Yaemon, is a similarly mysterious figure, but historians generally agree he was probably of the lower classes, most likely a peasant soldier (Ashigaru). Hideyoshi’s childhood is also poorly recorded, with some sources suggesting his father died when he was 7, after which Hideyoshi entered a monastery, though he left shortly afterwards.
At the age of 15, he received part of his inheritance and left home to become a wanderer. Sometime later (the dates are unclear), he is recorded as Kinoshita Hideyoshi in the service of the Iio Clan, which, in turn, was a vassal of the Imagawa Clan. It’s not certain exactly when he came into the service of the Oda Clan, but it appears to have been before 1554, when he was serving at Kiyosu Castle (under Oda control) in charge of the kitchens, and in some kind of role in construction or maintenance.
Kiyosu Castle as it appears today.
Even this is a matter of some debate, though, as other sources state he didn’t join the Oda until 1558 (though they agree he served at Kiyosu Castle), and a common origin story in English language sources is that he was Nobunaga’s sandal bearer, a story which possibly reflects his role as a kind of ‘military servant’ which might explain how he was able to gain recognition from Nobunaga.
Even the matter of Hideyoshi’s marriage is subject to debate; it is certain that he married Nene, but her origins and even the year of the marriage aren’t totally clear. Some sources say the marriage took place in 1561, when Nene was 12 or 13, and Hideyoshi was in his 20s. This earlier date is controversial because even though 13 was the age at which girls became adults (legally speaking), it was still considered unusual for a girl to marry as soon as she came of age.
Hideyoshi’s wife, Nene, who also became a Nun, is often recorded as Kodai-in as a result.
Another theory is that the marriage took place in 1565, when Nene was 16 or 17, still young by modern standards, but a far more acceptable age at the time. Nene’s adoptive father was Asano Nagakatsu, who would later receive a stipend of 300 Koku from Nobunaga and served as one of his bodyguards. This status suggests that Nagakatsu was of sufficient rank, and the marriage to Nene is often cited as evidence that Hideyoshi was already moving up in the world by the mid-1560s.
As well as his marriage, further evidence of his rise in Nobunaga’s service appears in 1565 when his name appears as the co-signer on documents assigning fiefs, suggesting he was already one of Nobunaga’s most important vassals. Throughout the back half of the decade, he is recorded as having taken part in several of Nobunaga’s campaigns, notably taking Mitsukuri Castle during the Omi Campaign in 1568.
In 1569, in support of the Mori Clan (who were his temporary allies), Nobunaga dispatched a force of some 20,000 to support them against a rebellion, whilst the bulk of the Mori forces were in Kyushu fighting the Otomo clan. This army, led by Hideyoshi, was, by all accounts, a phenomenal success, capturing no fewer than 18 castles in just 12 days and ending the rebellion swiftly.
A year later, he was part of Nobunaga’s campaign against the Asakura Clan of Echizen Province, which ended when Nobunaga’s brother-in-law, Azai Nagamasa, switched sides, threatening to cut off Nobunaga’s retreat. Though the exact scale of the threat is debated (as I mentioned in my posts on Nobunaga himself), what is certain is that Hideyoshi led the rearguard and was instrumental in ensuring that his master was able to escape.
Azai Nagamasa, Nobunaga’s brother-in-law, whose betrayal nearly spelt disaster for his campaign.
After the Battle of Anegawa, in which Nobunaga avenged himself on the Azai-Asakura forces, Hideyoshi was appointed castellan of the strategically important Yokoyama Fortress, from which he would be tasked with keeping up the pressure on the remnants of the Azai-Asakura until their final destruction in 1573.
I’ve previously mentioned the tradition of changing names among Samurai and how it often leads to confusion when you’re trying to source information about specific figures who may have had several names. While Hideyoshi is generally remembered as “Toyotomi Hideyoshi” in English-language sources, this wasn’t his name until much later. His peasant origins mean that he likely didn’t have a surname at all, and the names he was known by later were either taken from places or bestowed by others.
Shibata Katsuie
Niwa Nagahide
In 1573, Hideyoshi adopted the name Hashiba. The origins of this name are somewhat unclear; a common theory is that he took one character each from Shibata Katsuie and Niwa Nagahide (the Japanese character ‘wa’ can also be pronounced ‘ha’), though this is disputed.
Along with a name change, the fall of the Azai Clan in 1573 resulted in Hideyoshi receiving their former lands around the shores of Lake Biwa. He based himself at Imahama, which is promptly renamed Nagahama, after Nobunaga. This was not some unique quirk of his, by the way, the ‘giving’ of character from prestigious names was a common occurrence, and was generally treated as a respectful and honoured thing to do.
He continued to play a significant role in Nobunaga’s military expansion, serving at the decisive Battle of Nagashino in 1575, and capturing Kiriyama Castle from the powerful Kitabatake Clan of Ise Province the next year. In 1577, Hideyoshi’s star seemed to be on an inexorable rise, but personal rivalries would get in the way.
Nobunaga dispatched an army under Shibata Katsuie to face Uesugi Kenshin in the north. Now, you may remember from my post about him, but Kenshin was a formidable opponent, a rival to both Hojo Ujiyasu and Takeda Shingen; he was certainly not a man to take lightly. Nobunaga obviously understood this and dispatched reinforcements commanded by Hideyoshi.
Uesugi Kenshin
At this point, a simmering feud between Hideyoshi and Katsuie exploded. The exact nature of the argument isn’t recorded in contemporary sources, and later writers could only speculate; however, it is known that Hideyoshi literally took his army and went home. This open defiance of Nobunaga’s orders would have been bad enough, but when Katsuie was defeated shortly afterwards at the Battle of Tedorigawa, Nobunaga was furious.
Hideyoshi was arguably lucky to keep his head after that, and he would spend some time in the political wilderness. His time would come again, however, and we’ll talk about that next week.
Last time we looked at Mori Motonari, the lord who took his clan from struggling to hold onto their domains to controlling one of the largest territories of any clan during the Sengoku Period. Motonari’s son, Takamoto, died early, and so it would fall to his grandson, Terumoto, to lead the clan after Motonari himself passed in 1571.
Mori Terumoto
Terumoto was born in 1553, at a time when his clan, the Mori, were already on the rise. Under the leadership of Motonari, the clan had recently purged the Inoue, who had presented a serious internal threat, obliging Motonari to get rid of them. Shortly before Terumoto was born, the Ouchi, nominal overlords of the Mori, were seriously weakened by an internal coup, allowing Motonari to expand his clan’s power base still further, and not long after that, the Mori would win the decisive Battle of Itsukushima, establishing themselves as the (relatively) unchallenged power in the region.
Throughout his early life, Terumoto hardly saw his father or grandfather, as both men were frequently on campaign, and the young boy, as the future leader of the Mori, was kept safe, far from the fighting. Takamoto was, by this point, technically the leader of the Mori (though Motonari would remain in control), and when he died suddenly in 1563, Terumoto, just 11 years old, became the nominal head of the clan. Due to his youth, however, Motonari agreed to serve as ‘co-leader’, whilst (again) retaining all the actual power.
In 1565, as a sign of how far the Mori had risen, Terumoto’s coming-of-age ceremony was attended by an official representative of the Shogunate, lending formal (if only symbolic) prestige to the young man. After this, Terumoto, who was now legally an adult, became the official head of the clan, and from then on, most legal documents carried his signature, though he would continue to defer to his grandfather in practice.
Later that year, Terumoto would join his grandfather in Izumo Province, taking part in the campaign against the Amago, who had once been strong enough to demand fealty from the Mori, but were now on their last legs. This final campaign against the Amago would be concluded successfully in late 1566, with the surrender of their last stronghold at Gassan-Toda Castle, signalling the end of the war and the Amago Clan.
Despite this victory, an uprising of former Amago retainers would occur in June 1569, followed by a similar uprising amongst former Ouchi warriors in October. These twin uprisings were either instigated or supported after the fact by the Otomo, whom the Mori had been fighting for control of Northern Kyushu with.
Mori control of Izumo, Suo, and Nagato provinces was suddenly under serious threat. Withdrawing forces from Kyushu allowed them to quickly deal with the Amago rebellion, but the Ouchi proved a much sterner test, and required the Mori to dedicate even more resources to putting them down. Though victorious in early 1570, the consequences were that the Mori lost all their influence in Kyushu and had to continue a long, bloody campaign, trying to stamp out the embers of the Amago.
Around this time, wider events began to have an impact on the Mori as well, bringing them onto the main stage of events in and around Kyoto. Earlier, in 1565, Shogun Ashikaga Yoshiteru was assassinated in what became called the Eiroku Incident, and his replacement, Ashikaga Yoshiaki, went looking for support from the clans further away from the capital.
In 1568, the new Shogun dispatched a request for aid to several powerful leaders, including Uesugi Kenshin, Oda Nobunaga, and Mori Motonari. The Uesugi and Mori refused, but Nobunaga, based closer to the capital and possessing uncommon ability and ambition, responded positively and dispatched forces to Kyoto.
Ashikaga Yoshiaki, the last of the troubled Ashikaga Shoguns.
Not long after that, the Oda and Mori began to cooperate against their common enemy, the Miyoshi (who also happened to be the clan behind the assassination of the previous Shogun, which was handy). Over the next few years, an alliance would be established, and Nobunaga would actually dispatch forces to help the Mori put down the Amago and Ouchi, but beyond that, there would be little direct cooperation.
When Mori Motonari died in 1572, leaving Terumoto to lead the clan alone, relations with Nobunaga were already in decline. Previously, the Mori had sought to use the authority of the Shogun (by now under Nobunaga’s control) to advance their own goals, and for a time, Nobunaga was happy to acquiesce, but after 1572, it became clear that Nobunaga had plans of his own that didn’t necessarily involve the Mori.
Though the Shogun had largely been under Nobunaga’s control since 1565, at first, it had been a subtle arrangement. Nobunaga was in charge, but Yoshiaki was permitted to still act like the Shogun, even if his commands and proclamations (such as they were) were increasingly screened and eventually written by Nobunaga.
Oda Nobunaga.
Yoshiaki didn’t passively accept this, however. His problem was that he had little military strength of his own (a problem for the Ashikaga Shoguns since the very start), and with Nobunaga’s pre-eminent military position, the Shogun needed help. He thought he might find it in the Mori, one of the few clans that had the strength to challenge Nobunaga directly.
In 1573, at the recommendation of the Shogun, Terumoto was granted the title of Uma no Kami, which translates as “Master of Horse”. Though Imperial titles had long since become little more than baubles, they still carried prestige, and Yoshiaki almost certainly did it to butter the Mori up and bring them over to his side, against Nobunaga.
Yoshiaki was desperate by this point. Earlier that year, Takeda Shingen, who had agreed to march on Kyoto at least nominally in support of the Shogun, had died suddenly, bringing an end to the prospect of Takeda support. In early Spring, Yoshiaki raised an army anyway, hoping to take advantage of Nobunaga being distracted elsewhere, but instead suffered a series of defeats, which culminated in the Battle of Makishima Castle in July, which saw Yoshiaki exiled from Kyoto.
Shortly after this, Nobunaga, aware of his vulnerable position, wrote to Terumoto, assuring him that it was the actions of the Shogun that led to Oda troops formally occupying the capital, and that he would do everything he could to maintain peace in the realm. Given that there hadn’t been peace in the realm for more than a century at this point, it leads us to conclude Nobunaga was just being polite.
Though Terumoto probably eyed Nobunaga’s expansionism warily, the alliance was, for now, convenient for both sides, as it largely secured the border between the two powerful clans and allowed them to carve up the territory of the smaller clans caught in the middle. Terumoto did continue to try to mediate a peace between Yoshiaki and Nobunaga, though neither side seems to have negotiated with much faith.
Scholars speculate that both Terumoto and Nobunaga wanted to avoid a situation in which the Shogun would flee to Mori territory, Terumoto because had no interest in helping Yoshiaki, but couldn’t rely on some of his more tenuous vassals not making trouble, and Nobunaga for pretty much the same reason, the Mori were one of the few clans strong enough to oppose him, and if they backed the Shogun, Nobunaga might be in trouble.
Though Nobunaga was allied with the Mori, he took other actions that would be considered unfriendly. On the Eastern borders of Mori territory (the West, as far as Nobunaga was concerned) lay the Urakami Clan, who dominated the three provinces of Bizen, Harima, and Mimasaka. The Mori and Urakami had engaged in a long war before the Urakami had agreed to submit to the Mori in exchange for recognition of this territory, terms to which the Mori agreed, effectively turning the Urakami into vassals.
Bizen Province Harima Province Mimasaka Province
However, Nobunaga issued a “Red Seal Letter” (an official, legally binding document named for its eponymous red seal), recognising the Urakami as lords of the three provinces. This was, in effect, simply making official something that was already a fact; however, when the Urakami accepted the letter, they effectively ceased to be Terumoto’s vassals, that is, if the Mori accepted the new situation.
The Mori, not surprisingly, did not. In 1575, they attacked the Urakami, defeating them in a series of battles and essentially eliminating them as a power, taking direct control of the provinces. The Urakami had apparently expected Nobunaga to dispatch forces to aid them, but he had erred on the side of caution, deciding that the Urakami were an acceptable sacrifice for keeping the peace with the Mori, at least for now.
An immediate consequence of this was that there were no more buffers between the Mori and Oda territories, which now shared a border. The relationship was already tense, and it only grew worse as both sides became involved in Tajima Province. Expecting that Nobunaga would seek to make the province part of his domain, Terumoto made an alliance with the province’s local power, the Yamana. You may remember that name from earlier posts, and well done if you did; the Yamana were still around at this point, though no longer the great clan they once were.
Then in 1576, the Shogun, Ashikaga Yoshiaki, having been forced to flee Kyoto by Nobunaga, found himself in Bingo Province, controlled by the Mori. Terumoto was not happy about this. Although he had ostensibly supported the restoration of the Shogunate, he understood that the only way that could happen was through war with Nobunaga, which he had no interest in. When the Shogun showed up on his doorstep and formally asked the Mori to support him in returning to Kyoto, then Terumoto was in a tricky spot.
The Mori had promised Nobunaga that they would not harbour the exiled Shogun. On the other hand, Nobunaga had taken actions that were widely seen as trying to undermine Mori power, and although he had attacked them directly, the damage had been done.
Terumoto, for his part, took a long time making up his mind. We’ll never know exactly what he was thinking, but it’s easy to imagine that Terumoto had plenty of reason to be wary of Nobunaga, who had already meddled in Mori affairs and would probably do so again if given the chance. The Mori were also one of the few clans with the power to actually face Nobunaga directly, something that Terumoto must have been aware of.
Terumoto would declare for the Shogun in May 1576, effectively ending his alliance with Nobunaga and setting the Mori on a collision course with the Oda, but more on that next time.
If you’ve been reading my blog for a while, you might be forgiven for thinking that Japanese history was mostly focused on the Kanto or Kansai regions (modern Tokyo and Kyoto/Osaka, respectively). Whilst the capital was in Kyoto, and some of the most powerful clans were based either there or in the Kanto, there were others, just as powerful and just as ambitious, who were based in other parts of Japan.
One such clan was the Mori, who we have mentioned briefly previously but are deserving of a much closer look. The subject of this post is Mori Motonari, and though he would go on to establish himself and his clan as one of Japan’s strongest, when he was born in 1497, there was little to indicate that the Mori would be anything other than a regional footnote.
Mori Motonari, our subject for today.
In the early 15th century, the most powerful clan in the region was the Ouchi, who played a significant role in the turmoil surrounding Kyoto and the Ashikaga Shogunate in the late 1400s. The Mori were based in Aki Province, in modern-day Hiroshima Prefecture, and found themselves caught up in the conflict between the Ouchi and the Hosokawa, who by this point were in effective control of the Shogunate.
In 1500, in a bid to avoid having to choose sides, Motonari’s father, Hiromoto, retired as head of the clan and was replaced by his son (Motonari’s older brother), Okimoto. Motonari would have a tough childhood, even by the standards of the day. His mother died in 1501, and his father in 1506, either from stress or alcohol poisoning (or a combination of the two).
In 1507, Okimoto had chosen his side, as he accompanied the Ouchi to Kyoto, leaving 10-year-old Motonari back in Aki. The young lad then had his income embezzled by unscrupulous vassals, leaving him destitute. However, the embezzler died suddenly in 1511, and Motonari’s income was restored.
Also in 1511, Okimoto returned from Kyoto and set about preserving the clan’s position in Aki Province. In 1513, Motonari would make a formal pledge of loyalty to his brother, supporting Okimoto’s rule, and (ideally) avoiding the kind of fratricidal violence that plagued so many of Japan’s other clans.
In 1515, there was an outbreak of violence in Aki and neighbouring Bingo (yes, it was really called that) province. In response, the Ouchi dispatched a member of the Takeda Clan to restore order. (You may remember we spoke previously of several branches of the Takeda family, this one is sometimes called the Aki-Takeda, due to the location of their base.)
The Aki-Takeda proved to be unreliable vassals, however, as they took advantage of the chaos to rebel against the Ouchi and take control of several castles for themselves. Okimoto, continuing his service to the Ouchi, would attack the Aki-Takeda and take one of their castles, forcing them to withdraw and giving birth to a local rivalry that would be important for Motonari and the Mori Clan.
In 1516, Okimoto died suddenly, aged just 24, apparently also from alcohol poisoning. His son was just two years old, and so Motonari would become the guardian and acting head of the clan. A sudden change in leadership can leave a clan vulnerable, and the Aki-Takeda sought to take advantage, attacking several castles in Aki Province that protected the Mori heartlands.
Mori Okimoto, Motonari’s brother. His sudden death paved the way for Motonari’s rise to power, though it would be said he deeply mourned his brother’s passing.
Motonari was obliged to respond and proved his mettle several times in the war that followed. Between 1517 and 1522, Motonari would engage in a series of sieges and battles against the Aki-Takeda, which would see Mori gradually extend control across southern Aki province (in the area around modern Hiroshima), and even into neighbouring Bingo.
Despite his personal successes, the overall situation remained chaotic, and in 1523, the Amago Clan, seeking to expand their influence, advanced into Aki Province. Motonari, who had fought for the Ouchi up to that point, switched sides and aided the Amago in their conquests of several castles in the region.
This relationship would be relatively short-lived, however. In 1523, Okimoto’s son (Motonari’s nephew), who had been the nominal head of the clan, died, aged just 9. As was common, there was no clear successor, and although he had been the de facto head for years, Motonari was opposed by a faction that wanted his half-brother in charge instead.
Initially, Motonari was able to secure enough political support to be named head of the clan, and he was even recognised as such by the Amago. Almost as soon as the ink was dry, though, the Watanabe Clan, who had supported Motonari’s half-brother, began agitating against him.
The situation worsened when several other clans joined the conspiracy, apparently with the approval (or possibly even direct support) of the Amago Clan. Motonari’s position was still insecure, and he was forced to take action, launching a purge of those involved. Japanese politics at this time was usually an extremely bloody affair, and it wasn’t uncommon for entire families to be wiped out as punishment for rebellion.
Though Motonari ordered the death of his half-brother and his key supporters, he stopped there. No harm was done to the wives and children of the conspirators, as Motonari himself seemed to believe the incident was not so much a rebellion as it was interference from the Amago. Indeed, it was even suggested at the time that Motonari deeply regretted the killings, blaming himself for not having been able to stop the conspiracy, and the Amago for having encouraged it.
Quite why the Amago were so keen to conspire against Motonari isn’t clear, but they’d soon have cause to regret it. In 1525, as a response to Amago meddling, Motonari switched sides again, giving his support back to the Ouchi, who had largely stabilised their own situation by this point. Motonari would use this new alliance to expand his control of Aki Province even further, as many of the local clans remained loyal to the Amago and were now prime targets for Motonari’s revenge and political ambitions.
Mori Motonari’s Battle Flag.
Over the next few years, Motonari would use a combination of diplomacy, threat, and outright force to establish broad control of Aki Province. In 1532, 32 local vassals of the clan signed a document pledging to follow Motonari’s lead and establishing him as the final arbiter in legal matters within the province. Also that year, Motonari was (with the support of the Ouchi) granted an Imperial title. As we’ve discussed previously, these titles were largely just for show by this point, but they did serve to increase Motonari’s personal prestige.
In 1540, the ongoing Amago-Ouchi war reached a new level of escalation, as the Amago marched into Aki Province with 30,000 men. Standing in their path was the Mori home castle at Yoshida-Koriyama, which quickly came under siege. Despite being outnumbered as much as 10 to 1, Motonari held out, and the Battle of Yoshida-Koriyama (which was actually a series of battles) eventually ended in the Mori’s favour, as the castled was relieved by Ouchi reinforcements, and the Amago were forced into a humilitating retreat, ending their attempts to conquer Aki, and leaving Mori control of the province in a much stronger position.
In 1545, Motonari’s wife died, and shortly after that, he announced his retirement as head of the clan. In a letter to his son, he strongly implied that it was grief over the passing of his wife that led him to make the decision. In 1546 (or possibly 1547), Motonari formally retired in favour of his son, Takamoto. However, as was common, Motonari’s ‘retirement’ was just for show, and he retained almost complete control of the clan.
As control over Aki and Bingo provinces was established, and Mori power increased, Motonari was now in a strong enough position to deal with his remaining internal enemies. In 1550, after gaining the tacit approval of the Ouchi (still the Mori’s nominal overlords), Motonari launched a violent purge of the Inoue Clan, one time vassals of the Mori, who had begun to operate independently, presenting a threat to Mori internal stability.
What followed was the massacre of up to 30 individuals, which left the other Mori vassals fearing for their lives. However, Motonari gathered 238 of them and had them sign a pledge of loyalty and obedience. All agreed, and the end of the Inoue Clan further cemented Motonari’s position.
A year later, the Ouchi themselves fell victim to an internal coup, their leader was assassinated, and replaced by his son, though the real power would be with the new regent, Sue Harutaka (pronounced soo-eh, by the way). Motonari took advantage of the chaos to capture several castles that remained loyal to the old Ouchi Lord, and Harutaka agreed, recognising the Mori as lords of the Aki and Bingo provinces.
This rapprochement didn’t last long (they never do), with Harutaka soon regretting the power he had given Motonari, and he demanded that he return control. Motonari, unsurprisingly, refused, and shortly after that, conflict broke out. The problem for the Mori was one of numbers; Harutaka was regent of the Ouchi Clan, the regional power, and could muster 30,000 men, to the Mori’s 5000.
Fortunately for Motonari, the Ouchi were facing several rebellions in the aftermath of the coup, and their forces were divided. This gave the Mori their chance, and at the Battle of Oshikibata in 1554, the Mori, despite being outnumbered nearly 2 to 1, launched a surprise attack against the Ouchi and won.
A later image of Motonari at the Battle of Itsukushima.
A year later, Harutaka himself led a large army to put down the Mori, laying siege to Miyao Castle on Itsukushima (site of the famous ‘floating’ Torii gate), with 20,000 men. Unbeknownst to Harutaka, however, was that this was exactly what Motonari had hoped he’d do. The Mori had one of the most powerful navies in Japan at the time, and what followed was a combined sea and land operation, in which the outnumbered Mori launched another surprise attack, trapping the Ouchi and effectively wiping them out, with Harutaka himself amongst the dead.
The Battle of Itsukushima was not the end of the Ouchi, but they were never again a serious force. Over the next two years, the Mori would expand into the former Ouchi heartlands of Suo and Nagato provinces, as well as advancing in Iwami Province, gaining control of the valuable silver mines there.
In a sign of how far things had changed, the Amago, who had previously been able to exert control over the Mori, now found that they had to deal with them on equal terms, with the conflict over the Iwami Silver Mines ending in the Mori’s favour.
In 1563, with Mori control reaching new heights, Takamoto, Motonari’s son and heir, died, leaving his son, Terumoto, as the new ‘leader’ of the Mori. The reality, of course, was that Motonari had retained control, and Terumoto was a child besides, leading to a kind of ‘dual leadership’, which was supposed to last until Terumoto came of age, but of course lasted much longer.
In 1566, Motonari, with Terumoto in tow, attacked the last Amago stronghold in Izumo province, forcing their surrender in November, and bringing a final end to the Amago, who had once been the region’s dominant power.
The next year, Terumoto was 15, and officially came of age, with Motonari announcing he would end the ‘dual leadership’. Apparently, Terumoto begged him to reconsider, and so Motonari would stay on as co-leader, though his health was already declining, and by the end of the 1560s, it was becoming clear that Motonari’s time was nearly up.
Mori Motonari would eventually pass away in June 1571, aged 75, possibly from cancer or old age. At his birth, the Mori had been a minor clan in a distant province, the proverbial leaf on the wind, buffeted to and fro depending on the whims of their powerful neighbours. As he lay dying 75 years later, Motonari ruled one of the largest territories of the era, and had established his clan as one of the truly great Sengoku Clans.
It would fall to his grandson, Terumoto, to continue this legacy, and though he would often prove equal to the task, fate was not yet done with the Mori Clan.
Having looked closely at the lives and careers of Takeda Shingen and Uesugi Kenshin, it is impossible not to notice the frequent mention of a place called Kawanakajima, and the series of battles that took place there from 1553 to 1564.
The battles at Kawanakajima were not the only confrontations between the Takeda and Uesugi clans, nor were they the largest or most significant battles in the Sengoku period, but they have been the subject of extensive study, writing, and mythologising, as they seem to symbolise the famous rivalry between Shingen and Kenshin, and so they’re worth a closer look.
The area called Kawanakajima is located in the northern part of Nagano Prefecture, and is the area surrounding where the Chikuma and Sai rivers meet. Now within the modern city of Nagano, in the 16th century the area was in Shinano Province and had long served as a key transportation route from north to south, and as such had frequently been a battleground.
There had been many small, but long-established clans in the area, but by the early 1500s, it was largely under the control of the Murakami Clan, who would come into frequent conflict with the Takeda, from neighbouring Kai Province, who were beginning to expand into Shinano around this time.
Starting in 1542, Takeda Shingen began a concerted effort to bring the province under his control, but he faced resistance of varying degrees of severity during his campaign, and it was the Murakami who proved the sternest test. At the Battle of Uedahara in 1548, the Murakami inflicted a serious defeat on the Takeda, and although Shingen would recover, he suffered a further defeat at the Siege of Toishi Castle in 1550.
Takeda Harunobu, better remembered as Takeda Shingen.
Shingen had what we might call “Bouncebackability”, and in 1551, Toishi Castle fell, leaving the Takeda in control of most of Shinano, with the exception of the area including, and to the north of, Kawanakajima. The clans in this area had previously allied with the Murakami, but with their defeat, they went looking for new friends.
They found them in the Nagao Clan of Echigo, and their lord, Kagetora, better known to history as Uesugi Kenshin, who advanced into northern Shinano to support these local clans and to oppose the Takeda.
The First Battle
In April 1553, Shingen resumed his advance against the remaining clans in northern Shinano, meeting only sporadic resistance and forcing the weakened Murakami to ask for intervention from Kenshin. He responded, and a combined force of around 5000 men counterattacked and defeated the Takeda at the Battle of Yahata in May.
Nagao Kagetora, better known as Uesugi Kenshin.
This success would be short-lived, however, as Shingen would resume his advance that summer, forcing the Murakami back again, until September, when Kenshin himself led a force into Shinano, engaging and defeating the Takeda at the Battle of Fuse, before laying siege to several castles in quick succession. Shingen would seek to outmanoeuvre Kenshin and cut off his retreat, but Kenshin responded with a strategic retreat to a place called Hachimanbara.
Unable to cut off Kenshin’s retreat, Shingen instead retreated to Shioda Castle, entrenching himself there and avoiding direct battle. With neither side apparently up for the fight, both armies gradually disengaged, with Kenshin returning home at the end of September, and Shingen following suit a few weeks later.
The First Battle of Kawanakajima was more of an extended series of engagements than a pitched battle, and both sides achieved some strategic goals. Kenshin was able to stop the Takeda advance into northern Shinano, whereas Shingen was able to consolidate his control in the central and eastern parts of the province, free from outside intervention.
The Second Battle
Through the remainder of 1553 and into 1554, Takeda Shingen continued to expand and consolidate his control of the areas of Shinano south of Kawanakajima. He has also formed an alliance with the Hojo and Imagawa Clans, securing his southern borders and gaining an ally (in the Hojo) against Kenshin’s ambitions in the wider region.
Shingen also sought to keep Kenshin off balance by supporting local rivals and instigating rebellions amongst his vassals. Though Kenshin was often able to swiftly put down these uprisings, in 1555, a previously loyal vassal, Kurita Eiju, who was based near the Zenkoji Temple, defected to the Takeda side. This was significant because Eiju controlled the southern half of the Nagano Basin, of which Kawanakajima was a central part.
Shingen marched north to support his new ally, whilst Kenshin was obliged to dispatch an army to retake the lost territory. Eiju, alongside 3000 Takeda allies, holed up at Asahiyama Castle (in modern Nagano City), a strategically important location that controlled crossings of the Sai River.
Kenshin could have manoeuvred around the strong point, but this would have left an enemy garrison at his rear, so instead, he entrenched his forces at Katsurayama (also in modern Nagano) and constructed a castle there, effectively bottling up the garrison at Asahiyama and neutralising the threat.
Shingen was not idle during all this construction; however, he dispatched an army in support of Kurita Eiju, and it arrived in early July, facing Kenshin’s forces across the Sai River. The only serious engagement of the Second ‘Battle’ was on July 19th, when Kenshin sent forces across the river and engaged in sporadic fighting against the Takeda. Whether this was a serious attempt to force a crossing or just a kind of skirmish isn’t clear, but Kenshin’s forces swiftly withdrew, and both sides spent the next 200 days glaring at each other across the river.
Eventually, events away from Kawanakajima would force a resolution. Shingen was a long way from his home base in Kai and was beginning to struggle to feed his army, whereas Kenshin was facing issues on his western borders from increasing activity from the local Ikko-Ikki, as well as dissatisfaction from his vassals over the months of inactivity.
The Ikko-Ikki proved to be difficult to deal with for many lords. Uesugi Kenshin was no different.
Eventually, both sides agreed to mediation, led by the Imagawa Clan, and a peace was agreed in October. The terms set the border between the rivals as the Sai River, as well as calling for the destruction of Asahiyama Castle, and the complete withdrawal of both armies from the area.
In the immediate aftermath, Kenshin would turn to deal with the Ikko-Ikki, and Shingen would subdue the remaining independent lords in southern Shinano, but neither side was done with Kawanakajima.
The Third Battle
In 1556, Kenshin, apparently suffering from what we might now call ‘burnout’, announced his intention to renounce his lordship and become a monk. His retainers, horrified at the prospect, did everything they could to persuade him to change his mind. They were ultimately successful, and a good thing too, because through the interim period, Shingen had again begun putting pressure on local lords to switch sides, or face conquest.
During the New Year festivities in January 1557, Kenshin, who had by now given up on his idea of becoming a monk (and the restful lifestyle that would have provided him), offered prayers at the Hachimangu Shrine (in Chikuma, Nagano) for the defeat of Takeda Shingen.
Hachiman Shrine as it appears today. It’s now called Takemizuwake Shrine.
Shingen, apparently put out by these attempts at divine intervention, advanced again, taking Katsurayama Castle (the site of the second ‘battle’) in mid-February, then advanced north, defeating the Takanashi Clan, who were allies of Kenshin. Kenshin’s response was delayed by winter snows, but he eventually came south, capturing several Takeda castles and even rebuilding Asahiyama.
Shingen would continue to evade Kenshin’s advance, and both sides continued to dance around each other until an indecisive clash at Uenohara in late August, after which, Kenshin, who had advanced far from his supply bases in Echigo, withdrew. At this point, the Shogun, Ashikaga Yoshiteru, intervened, sending a letter requesting that both sides make peace, apparently in the hope that they would then send forces to aid the Shogunate.
Neither side did, but a truce was agreed upon, which did not last long, as both Kenshin and Shingen would dispatch armies to duke it out in Northern Shinano. Kenshin arguably got the better of it, as the remaining clans in the area, previously just allies, were forced to become effectively his vassals.
The Fourth Battle
In 1559, Kenshin went to Kyoto to ask that the Shogun grant him the position of Kanto Kanrei, which had long been held by the Uesugi clan. Though the power of the Shogun and the prestige of any positions he might bestow were long since diminished, Kenshin was able to combine his appointment as Kanrei with his considerable martial talents to gather a large army and attack the Hojo in the Kanto region.
In 1560, he was apparently able to gather an army of 100,000 men (though this is probably exaggerated) and advance deep into Hojo territory, even besieging their capital at Odawara in March 1561, though he was unable to take the formidable fortress. In response, the Hojo called for help from their ally, Takeda Shingen, who responded by invading Northern Shinano once again.
When news of Shingen’s attack reached Kenshin’s army, many of his supporters returned home, and he was obliged to lift the siege of Odawara and turn to face the Takeda. Beginning in August, the Takeda and Uesugi forces would again seek to gain advantage, advancing and retreating in turn, largely centred on Kaizu Castle, newly constructed at Shingen’s command.
This would continue until late October, when the Takeda devised a strategy to launch a surprise attack against the Uesugi, with a second force positioned nearby to ambush and (hopefully) destroy the Uesugi as they attempted to regroup. Kenshin, however, was made aware of the Takeda’s movements, and, taking advantage of a moonless night, he had his army change position, moving them closer to the main Takeda force.
Just after dawn on October 28th, a thick fog covered the ground around Kawanakajima, obscuring both armies. When the fog cleared, however, the Takeda were confronted with the sight of the entire Uesugi army positioned in front of them. Almost as soon as visibility allowed, Kenshin ordered a furious attack that smashed into the Takeda force and forced them onto the back foot.
The Uesugi made it as far as the Takeda’s main camp, and it is here that one of the most famous tales of the Sengoku period takes place. In the heat of the battle, a warrior wearing a white robe (or towel) around his head charged directly at Takeda Shingen. This warrior slashed three times at Shingen, who was able to parry the blows with his war fan (made of iron, not the usual paper, luckily), before Takeda’s soldiers came to the rescue and forced the white-clad warrior to retreat.
The moment that Uesugi Kenshin and Takeda Shingen are said to have met on the battlefield.
It was later revealed that this warrior was Uesugi Kenshin himself, and the duel became a legendary scene, symbolising the violence of the age, and the particular rivalry between Shingen and Kenshin. Unfortunately, we’re not sure that the duel actually took place. Takeda sources describe it as I’ve written here, whereas the Uesugi say the duel did take place, but that it was either a different attacker, or that it took place, not in the Takeda camp, but nearer the river, where the fighting was fiercest.
Whether the famous duel actually happened or not, the battle itself was a bloody affair. The Uesugi attack was ferocious and drove the Takeda back to their camp, but failed to break them. At the same time, Takeda reinforcements rushing towards the battlefield were held up by a Uesugi rearguard.
The Uesugi army (right) advance against the Takeda (left)
If the battle had been brought to a conclusion that morning, then it’s likely the Uesugi would have won; however, the Takeda reinforcements arrived at around noon, and, fearing encirclement, Kenshin ordered a retreat. Shingen pursued him until around mid-afternoon, but then called it off, bringing an end to the bloodiest of the Battles of Kawanakajima.
Exact death tolls are always tricky, as are the size of the opposing armies, but total numbers of combatants are estimated to have been around 20,000 for the Takeda and 13,000 for the Uesugi. When the fighting was over, the Takeda had suffered 4000 casualties, to the Uesugi’s 3000, and since they remained in control of the field, the battle was arguably a Takeda victory.
The Fourth Battle of Kawanakajima was by far the bloodiest.
That being said, the Uesugi would also claim victory, as they had foiled Takeda’s attempts to trap them, stopped their advance, and, despite a bloody day, their army remained more or less intact. Strategically, the battle was probably a draw, as it ultimately didn’t change much on the ground, neither side was able to secure new territory in the aftermath, and apart from the casualties (who would no doubt be comforted to know they’d died for nothing), both sides remained relatively strong.
The Fifth Battle
The Fifth and Final Battle of Kawanakajima occurred in 1564. In the interim period, Kenshin had continued to send forces into the Kanto, and Shingen had continued to try to expand his control of Shinano and other surrounding provinces.
In Hida Province, a proxy war between a faction backed by the Uesugi and one by the Takeda swiftly drew both clans into direct confrontation once again. Shingen dispatched troops, and Kenshin moved to intercept them. The Takeda would get as far as the southern end of the Nagano Basin, but there would be no serious fighting. The Uesugi were content to limit themselves to blocking Shingen, and Shingen seemed to be content to allow himself to be blocked.
Both sides eventually withdrew after nearly two months of little more than dirty looks, and this would prove to be the last confrontation between the clans at Kawanakajima.
Aftermath
The conflict between the Takeda and Uesugi Clans did not end after the Fifth Battle (such as it was), but both sides had more pressing concerns elsewhere. Kenshin was keen to focus on Etchu Province, the source of frequent Ikko-Ikki attacks, whilst Shingen’s attention was drawn south, and then eventually towards Kyoto as the political situation shifted dramatically.
When Shingen died in 1573, Kenshin is supposed to have wept openly at the loss of his great rival, but the fortunes of both clans would continue to decline. The Takeda would be heavily defeated at the Battle of Nagashino in 1575, and their power would be permanently diminished. Then, in 1578, Kenshin died, and the Uesugi Clan was wracked by a civil war to determine who would succeed him.
The Takeda would eventually be destroyed by Oda Nobunaga in 1582, whereas the Uesugi would survive the Sengoku Period and the centuries to come. In fact, as I mentioned in their brief profile, direct descendants of this famous clan still live in Japan to this day.
Ultimately, the Battles of Kawanakajima became the stuff of myth and legend in the decades following the actual events. This was largely due to the actions of Tokugawa Ieyasu and his descendants, who made concerted efforts to elevate the actions of Takeda Shingen to almost semi-divine status.
A 19th Century artistic representation of the Battle of Kawanakajima.
The reality is that the battles were locally important, but ultimately proved to be fringe events in the course of the enormous bloodshed elsewhere in Japan during this period, as we shall soon see.
Much like Takeda Shingen, Kenshin’s real name wasn’t Kenshin, but Kagetora, with Kenshin being a religious name given in later life. However, as this is the name he is best known by, we will be referring to him as it throughout.
Uesugi Kenshin, the Dragon of Echigo and the topic of this post.
If you live your life in such a way that you earn the nickname ‘Dragon of something’ and have followers who think of you as an avatar of the God of War, then I’d say you’ve done pretty well for yourself. By this standard, our subject for today, Uesugi Kenshin, is a historical figure worthy of a closer look.
Confusingly enough, Uesugi Kenshin wasn’t actually a member of the Uesugi family to begin with. He was a scion of the Nagao family, a strong clan who were vassals of the Yamanouchi branch of the Uesugi Clan, based in Echigo Province, in what is now Niigata Prefecture.
Born in 1530, it is quite likely that Kenshin’s mother was a concubine, and what’s more, the boy himself was the second son. He was never intended to inherit control of the Nagao Clan, and he entered the temple at Risenji at age 11, apparently set on a life as a monk.
He doesn’t seem to have stayed at Risenji for long, however, as when his father died in 1542, just a year later, he was at the funeral with armour and sword at his side, and shortly after that, he was at Tochio Castle when a rebellion against Kenshin’s brother (the new Lord Nagao) broke out. Despite being just 14, Kenshin is supposed to have led the defence of the castle and won his first victory.
At the time, though the Uesugi were nominally the lords of the region, the Nagao served as deputy (and de facto) governors in their place. After the death of Kenshin’s father, it was his elder brother, Harukage, who inherited this position. The brothers don’t seem to have gotten along very well, however, and in the late 1540s, a movement emerged within the Nagao clan that sought to replace Harukage with Kenshin as head of the clan.
Exactly why the clan was so against Harukage isn’t clear, but their efforts were ultimately successful. In 1548, under mediation from Uesugi Sadazane (their nominal overlord), Harukage agreed to adopt Kenshin, then retire as head of the clan, clearing the way for Kenshin to become head of the Nagao Clan aged just 18 or 19 (depending on the source).
In 1550, Sadazane died without an heir, leaving Echigo Province without a lord. At this point, Shogun Ashikaga Yoshiteru instructed Kenshin to take the position of shugo of the province, effectively making him the new lord. Shogunate recognition was not quite the prestigious thing it had once been, however, and not long after this, supporters of Kenshin’s brother rose up in rebellion against him.
Kenshin quickly bottled up the rebels at Sakado Castle, when the castle fell, the leader of the rebels was spared because he was Kenshin’s brother-in-law, and following this, Kenshin, still aged just 22 had established effectively control over the whole of Echigo Province.
Looking back for a moment, five years earlier, the Uesugi Clan (or more accurately, the Ogigayatsu branch of the clan) had been defeated at the Battle of Kawagoe by the new rising star of the Kanto, the Hojo Clan. The Ogigayatsu-Uesugi were wiped out after this battle, leaving only the Yamanouchi Branch of the clan. In 1552, Uesugi Norimasa, who was, on paper, the Kanto Kanrei (Shogun’s deputy) was finally driven out of the Kanto entirely and sought refuge with Kenshin.
A later depiction of Kawagoe Castle.
Unsurprisingly, harbouring their enemies didn’t do much for the relationship between Kenshin and the Hojo, and Kenshin would send an army to oppose the Hojo’s invasion of Kozuke Province (modern Gunma Prefecture), capturing Numata Castle, and forcing the Hojo to retreat.
A year later, Kenshin would face a new enemy, as Takeda Shingen’s long-running invasion of Shinano eventually obliged some of the clans there to flee and seek refuge with Kenshin in Echigo. Much like the Hojo, the Takeda didn’t take kindly to someone giving refuge to their enemies, and one of Japanese history’s most famous rivalries was born.
In August 1553, an army led by Kenshin himself advanced against the Takeda in Shinan, defeating Shingen himself at the Battle of Fuse on August 30th, then again at Yuwata on September 1st. After this, Shingen adopted a strategy of avoiding direct battle with Kenshin, and the conflict settled into a stalemate that was later called the First Battle of Kawanakajima.
In 1554-55, Kenshin was obliged to face a rebellion launched by treacherous vassals in league with Shingen. Putting down the rebellion quickly, Kenshin again marched into Shinano in April 1555 to face the advancing Takeda forces, again led by Shingen.
At the Second Battle of Kawanakajima, the two sides faced each other in another stalemate, which dragged on for five months, before mediation from the Imagawa Clan led to both sides withdrawing after little actual fighting.
In the following year, Kenshin apparently announced he would retire and become a monk, however, another outbreak of Takeda-backed rebellion forced him to change his plans, and after a period of peace, in 1557, Shingen again advanced against Kenshin’s allies in Shinano, forcing him to intervene and leading to the Third Battle of Kawanakajima, which, much like the previous two, swiftly settled into stalemate.
A year later, Kenshin dispatched an army in an ultimately unsuccessful invasion of Kozuke Province and then in 1559 he was ‘invited’ for a meeting with the Shogun, Ashikaga Yoshiteru. Some sources say that Kenshin was granted the title of Kanto Kanrei at this time, the position traditionally held by the Uesugi Clan. He also apparently donated funds towards the maintenance and repair of the Imperial Palace.
Swords supposedly gifted to Kenshin by the Emperor, photographed in 1928.
It seems that Kenshin enjoyed good relations with the Shogunate, but the already well-established decline of the Shogun’s power is highlighted again when he asked Kenshin, Shingen, and the Hojo to make peace in order to combine their forces against the Shogun’s enemies. All three parties refused.
In March 1560, the Imagawa Clan’s devastating defeat at Okehazama opened the way for Kenshin to intervene directly in the Kanto again, as the Imagawa had been allied to his enemies, the Hojo, and their defeat left the Hojo vulnerable. Later that year, Kenshin launched another large-scale invasion of Kozuke Province, driving the Hojo back and capturing several important castles before celebrating New Year at Maebashi Castle, the gateway to the Kanto Plain.
In March 1561, Kenshin was formally adopted by the Yamanouchi-Uesugi Clan (the only remaining branch) and changed his surname to match. Though he would be known as Uesugi Kagetora from this point, we will continue to call him Kenshin to keep things simple.
In August of that year, Kenshin led another large army into Shinano, and engaged the Takeda at the Fourth Battle of Kawanakajima. Unlike the previous three, this battle was not an extended stalemate, but a bloody one. Both sides suffered heavy casualties, with sources ranging from around 20% losses, to as high as 60 or 70%, and when the battle was over, the Takeda held the field, but made no attempt to intervene as the Uesugi withdrew, leading some to suggest the battle was a bloody draw.
A legendary depiction of the Fourth Battle of Kawanakajima, depicting the (possibly apocryphal) moment that Uesugi Kenshin and Takeda Shingen met on the field.
The Takeda and Hojo clans, recognising the Uesugi as their common enemy, renewed their combined efforts and launched a joint counter-attack in Musashi Province in late 1561. At first, Uesugi forces were successful against the alliance, even getting as far as besieging Odawara Castle, the Hojo’s main stronghold, before being forced to withdraw after allied counter-attacks in other parts of the Kanto.
The strategic situation in the Kanto would ebb and flow over the following years, as Uesugi, Takeda, and Hojo armies advanced and retreated, and the local lords would switch sides depending on whoever appeared to be in the ascendancy.
All three factions would be occupied with fighting each other, but also engaged in other battles and proxy wars with allies and supporters of each other’s enemies. For Kenshin, this meant being obliged to dispatch forces into neighbouring Etchu Province in 1568, to deal with Ikko Ikki forces nominally allied with Shingen.
Etchu Province.
Seeking to take advantage of this distraction, Takeda forces attacked in Shinano and were ultimately defeated, but a rebellion in Echigo (Kenshin’s home province) meant he was unable to take advantage of this victory in the short term.
Later that year, the strategic situation would shift in Kenshin’s favour, however, as the long-term decline in Takeda-Imagawa relations finally led to open conflict between two of his main rivals. The Imagawa would request aid from both the Uesugi and the Hojo, and while Kenshin would refuse, the Hojo dispatched forces to oppose the Takeda, bringing an end to the alliance that had done so much to oppose Kenshin.
However, years of expensive (and bloody) campaigns in the Kanto had left the Uesugi exhausted, and in 1569, Kenshin reluctantly agreed to a peace deal with the Hojo, which saw the Uesugi withdraw from Musashi Province (modern day Tokyo and Saitama) and the Hojo withdrew from Kozuke.
With his borders with the Hojo (relatively) secure, Kenshin was able to focus on campaigning against the Takeda again. In 1570 and 1571, he would engage the Takeda and their allies in Etchu and Shinano Provinces, generally having the better of the fighting, but the situation would shift again in 1572 when the lord of the Hojo, Ujiyasu, passed away, and was replaced by Ujimasa, who made peace with the Takeda, turning on the Uesugi. At the same time, the Etchu Ikko Ikki launched a fresh attack, instigated by Takeda Shingen.
Hojo Ujimasa, who reversed his father’s diplomatic policy.
The Ikko Ikki would initially be successful against Kenshin, but by mid-1573, the momentum had shifted back in his favour, and several key fortresses within Etchu were taken. Also in that year, Kenshin’s long-time rival, Takeda Shingen, passed away, an event that apparently caused Kenshin to weep openly, but also significantly weakened the Takeda.
Over the following two years, Kenshin was forced to split his focus between his ongoing campaign in Etchu and the situation in the Kanto. By the end of 1574, the Hojo had effectively ended any Uesugi presence in the region, and although Kenshin would launch counterattacks, the writing was on the wall for Uesugi power in the Kanto.
In 1576, Kenshin would receive a request for aid from the Shogun, seeking support against Oda Nobunaga, who now dominated central Japan and had forced the Shogun into exile. In order to get to Kyoto, Kenshin was obliged to focus all his resources on securing Etchu and Noto Provinces. This campaign would drag on throughout 1576 and 1577, delayed by intervention from the Hojo and internal rebellion, but by November 1577, Kenshin had secured control of the provinces and was poised to strike at Kyoto itself.
Mustering a large army, Kenshin would march out to meet a force led by Nobunaga’s generals, Shibata Katsuie and Hashiba Hideyoshi (better remembered to history as Toyotomi Hideyoshi), who were not fond of each other. A dispute led to Hideyoshi withdrawing his forces early, and when the two sides clashed at the Battle of the Tedori River on November 3rd, Kenshin would emerge victorious.
The exact course of the battle, and even the size of the forces involved, is not clear from contemporary sources, but Kenshin would withdraw temporarily, issuing instructions for a renewed campaign to begin in the spring. The battle at the Tedori River had opened a strategic opportunity for Kenshin, and it has been speculated that he might have been able to complete his march on Kyoto.
Much like his rival, Shingen, however, Kenshin would never make the march. In early March, Kenshin would collapse (allegedly whilst in the toilet) and fall into a coma from which he would never wake up; he died on March 13th, aged 49.
Much like the Takeda after the death of Shingen, the Uesugi would be seriously weakened by Kenshin’s death. Though they had been a threat to Nobunaga, Kenshin’s death, and the ongoing effects of years of more or less constant conflict, rendered them powerless to stop the rise of Nobunaga, and after his death in 1582, the Uesugi would make their peace with his successors.
Decisions made at the end of the Sengoku Jidai would see the clan’s star fall even further, though that is a story for another time.
Chris Perry, Author 