Before his death in 1598, Toyotomi Hideyoshi had established a Council of Five Elders to rule Japan until his son, Hideyori, came of age. Of the five, the two most influential were Tokugawa Ieyasu and Maeda Toshiie, and almost before Hideyoshi’s body was cool, the two men set about trying to undermine and outmanoeuvre each other.
The ultimate victor would be Ieyasu, largely because Toshiie died in the Spring of 1599 and was replaced by his son, Toshinaga, who lacked his father’s political connections and ability. Later that year, a plot to assassinate Ieyasu was uncovered, and Toshinaga was implicated. Forced to flee to his home province of Kaga, he only avoided direct conflict with Ieyasu by sending his mother as a hostage.
Maeda Toshinaga. Like many before him, he would prove unable to live up to an illustrious father’s reputation.
The revelation of his plot allowed Ieyasu to neutralise the threat of Toshinaga in the short term, but it wouldn’t last. Hideyoshi’s death had had exactly the destabilising effect he had feared, and throughout 1598-1600, old rivalries, feuds, and ambitions resurfaced. Historians disagree on what exactly led to a fresh outbreak of conflict, but there are a few theories.
Some speculate that, without Hideyoshi’s strong hand, his attempts to centralise power in the realm were doomed to failure, as powerful local clans, who had been largely independent for decades (or more), saw little reason to kowtow to a government now headed by an infant. Others suggest that the invasion of Korea, whilst possibly intended to keep the Samurai busy, had actually stirred up old rivalries and forged a few new ones as the prideful warrior class competed for prestige amongst themselves at the expense of a cohesive campaign.
Despite their reputation for honour and duty, the Samurai primarily followed strength. When Hideyoshi died, the lack of strong central authority meant that it wasn’t long before local clans slipped back into old habits.
There are others who don’t necessarily disagree with either view, but argue that the unpopularity of Ishida Mitsunari was a key factor in the breakdown of relations between the men at the centre of the post-Hideyoshi political scene. He was not a powerful lord in his own right, and his reputation for military incompetence and political scheming weakened his ability to hold the administration of the realm together during Hideyori’s minority.
Though it could be argued that Mitsunari’s failings were overemphasised in later (pro-Tokugawa) sources, it is clear that Ieyasu himself had ambitions to increase his own power and perhaps to claim ultimate authority. He frequently violated Hideyoshi’s laws and even his will, doing things like forming marriage alliances with other powerful lords, and eventually residing at Osaka Castle, even though Hideyoshi’s testament had stipulated that he remain at nearby (and weaker) Fushimi Castle.
A later depiction of Ieyasu. Though he started out as something of a first among equals, by early 1600, it was clear he was aiming for ultimate power.
Ieyasu was the strongest individual member of the Council of Elders, but he lacked the strength to oppose the other four if they combined against him, so he set about ensuring that that wouldn’t happen. After dealing with Maeda Toshinaga in the aftermath of the alleged assassination plot, he intervened directly in a conflict between another elder, Ukita Hideie, and his vassals.
The result of the so-called “Ukita Incident” was that many of these vassals left Hideie’s service, seriously weakening his power and, conversely, his ability to oppose Ieyasu. Indeed, by early 1600, it was beginning to appear that Ieyasu might claim supreme power without resorting to violence. He had largely co-opted the former Hideyoshi administration, and even Mitsunari, who had previously opposed Ieyasu, seemed to be coming around.
Ukita Hideie. One of the Five Elders, Ieyasu’s machinations left him in a severely weakened position.
In the Spring of 1600, Ieyasu felt strong enough to send envoys to another Elder, Uesugi Kagekatsu, to demand an explanation for the construction of an (illegal) castle in his domain, as well as for rumours of collusion between him and Maeda Toshinaga. Kagekatsu agreed to go to Kyoto, but asked that the trip be postponed until the Autumn, a request that was refused.
Scholars generally agree that Ieyasu had already decided on a military campaign against the Uesugi, and he had sent the demand, knowing full well that Kagekatsu would refuse, thus giving him the pretext he needed. There are also some sources that suggest that Kagekatsu himself was behind a plot to lure Ieyasu into the difficult terrain of Northern Japan, and there ambush and destroy him.
Uesugi Kagekatsu. Sources disagree over whether he was a passive victim of Ieyasu’s ambition or a cunning strategist plotting to trap and destroy him.
Regardless of who ultimately provoked the campaign, Ieyasu left Osaka in mid-June, heading first to his base at Edo, from where he issued orders to his vassals and supporters to prepare for an attack against the Uesugi. It is perhaps a testament to how ephemeral his power was that, no sooner had Ieyasu left Osaka than members of the government, including Ishida Mitsunari, rose up against him and sent a letter to Mori Terumoto inviting him to come to Osaka to “settle affairs.”
Shortly after this, copies of a letter denouncing Ieyasu as a traitor to Hideyori’s government were circulated, and Terumoto was nominated as Commander of what would eventually become known as the “Western Army”, the collective forces gathered in opposition to Ieyasu’s “Eastern Army”. The first blow would fall on Fushimi Castle, still held by Ieyasu’s vassals, when it came under attack in August 1600.
Mori Terumoto. In terms of resources, Terumoto was second only to Ieyasu, which made him the obvious choice to lead the coalition army.
Though some sources suggest that the forces led by the Shimazu and Kobayakawa Clans actually intended to enter Fushimi to fight on Ieyasu’s behalf, they were refused by the garrison and thus ‘forced’ to attack the castle instead. However, the only contemporary source for this is the Shimazu’s own records, and it is generally dismissed as an attempt by the Shimazu to excuse their opposition to Ieyasu after the fact.
Fushimi was garrisoned by around 1800 men, and when the Western Army’s force of some 40,000 arrived, the result was a foregone conclusion. The garrison held out bravely, and there are many stories of heroism, but the odds were simply too great, and Fushimi fell after a siege of around two weeks, with most of the garrison being put to the sword.
The reconstructed Fushimi Castle as it appears today. Though the original castle fell, the delay would prove decisive.
Despite the defeat, the sacrifice of the garrison at Fushimi would not be in vain; 40,000 troops had been tied down for nearly two weeks, and this gave Ieyasu time and relative strategic freedom to gather his allies and position his forces, and it was time that had been well spent. At the beginning of September 1600, Ieyasu departed his capital of Edo and marched towards the most important battle of his life, and one of the most decisive in Japanese history.
Following his move to the Kanto following the destruction of the Hojo Clan in 1590, Ieyasu became indispensable to Toyotomi Hideyoshi’s plans for pacifying the rest of Japan. In 1591, Hideyoshi issued an order for clans in the Oshu Region (known today as Tohoku) to stop fighting and observe his newly established peace.
The modern Tohoku Region roughly corresponds to the medieval region called “Oshu”
Some clans obeyed, but others refused, and Hideyoshi dispatched an army under the command of his nephew (and adopted heir) Hidetsugu, with Ieyasu playing an important supporting role. Around the same time as this campaign, Ieyasu became known as Musashi Dainagon, or the “Grand Councillor of Musashi,” an illustrious title that further demonstrated his rising profile.
In 1592, when Hideyoshi ordered the first invasion of Korea, Ieyasu remained in Japan, taking up position at Nagoya Castle (not in the modern city of the same name, but in Saga Prefecture, Kyushu, close to the staging ground for troops in Korea). Ieyasu himself never actually went to Korea, and historians have generally praised this as a wise move.
A semi-contemporary depiction of the fighting in Korea.
Although Hideyoshi’s ambition to conquer China through Korea was arguably overly ambitious, the campaign did serve to occupy the otherwise restless Samurai who had no more wars to fight at home. Tactical success on the battlefield did not translate to overall strategic or political victory, however, and several feuds emerged that would have profound repercussions in the years to come, feuds that Ieyasu remained aloof from but would be able to take advantage of.
One such feud involved Ishida Mitsunari. The actual circumstances are quite complex, but Mitsunari was believed to have sent reports to Hideyoshi that portrayed certain generals in a bad light, leading to some being punished upon their return. Though Mitsunari enjoyed Hideyoshi’s support, those whom he had allegedly wronged would remember.
Ishida Mitsunari, though perhaps unfairly maligned by later historians, his reputation amongst his contemporaries was divisive at best.
In 1596, Hideyoshi had a son, Hideyori, casting doubt on the position of his adopted heir, Hidetsugu. The details of what followed can be read in the posts about Hideyoshi, but long story short, Hidetsugu was accused of plotting treason and obliged to commit seppuku, with dozens of his household also put to death in the aftermath.
Hidetsugu’s actual guilt is a matter of some controversy, but his death risked creating political instability at the heart of Hideyoshi’s regime. To get control of the situation, he sought to centralise political power by having many of the realm’s most powerful lords attend him directly, including Ieyasu, who spent more time at Fushimi Castle than at his new base in Edo.
Totoyomi Hidetsugu, once Hideyoshi’s heir, became a victim of his political ambitions.
In 1596, Ieyasu was named Naidajin, or Minister of the Interior, the third-highest rank in the Imperial Government, which technically made him a direct advisor to the Emperor, although by this point, real political power was in the hands of the Samurai, and more specifically, Hideyoshi.
Ieyasu was probably the most powerful individual lord, second only to Hideyoshi, though he was not strong enough in his own right to pose a direct political threat to Hideyoshi. As long as Hideyoshi was alive and healthy, then things would remain stable.
A contemporary image of Hideyoshi at the end of the 16th Century.
In 1598, he fell ill, and, seeing the writing on the wall, he set about establishing a system of government to keep things stable until his son came of age. In the summer of 1598, when he was already on his deathbed, Hideyoshi called on the five most powerful lords of the realm to rule in collaboration. When Hideyoshi died in August, the first act of the Five Elders was to withdraw Japanese troops from Korea, bringing home their battle-hardened armies.
It will surprise no one to learn that the power-sharing arrangement began to fall apart almost immediately. One problem was that the five had little reason to trust one another, and most sources agree they didn’t even seem to like each other much.
The Five Elders, from left to right: Tokugawa Ieyasu, Ukita Hideie, Maeda Toshiie, Uesugi Kagekatsu, and Mori Terumoto.
Another problem was Ieyasu himself; he outranked the other four Elders by a wide margin and was also the most powerful in purely economic and military terms, and the other four assumed (correctly, as it would turn out) that Ieyasu meant to overturn Hideyoshi’s will and take power for himself.
In the short term, Ieyasu’s power was not enough to take on the other four elders with any hope of success, but he hadn’t gotten where he was with passivity, and throughout the latter part of 1598 and into 1599, Ieyasu set about dividing his enemies and winning a few over to his side.
A semi-contemporary depiction of Fushimi Castle, which had become Ieyasu’s temporary base.
To this end, he arranged marriages between members of his family and those of other powerful Daimyo, in direct violation of a 1595 law which Hideyoshi had passed to stop clans from forging alliances against him. He also began to pay personal visits to the residences of ‘second-tier’ lords, who weren’t prestigious enough to be at the centre of government, but who still possessed considerable resources.
Ieyasu’s main opponent amongst the Elders was Maeda Toshiie, who allied himself with Ishida Mitsunari (him again) to hold the elders together in opposition to what they saw as the ‘threat’ from Ieyasu. Toshiie was an old and well-respected figure, but his political alliance with Mitsunari actually played into Ieyasu’s hands.
Maeda Toshiie. In his youth, he had been celebrated for his good looks, bravery, and wisdom, but by the late 16th Century, he was a respected, but ageing figure.
As we have already seen, Mitsunari was not well-liked. He had made some powerful enemies in Korea, and earlier, during the Odawara Campaign against the Hojo, he had been blamed for the handling of the Siege of Oshi, which had not fallen until after Odawara itself. Historians today generally agree that Mitsunari was a competent, if somewhat unlucky, figure. It’s never been definitively proved that he was behind the slanders of certain figures in Korea, and it’s also been pointed out that he was following Hideyoshi’s orders at Oshi, and therefore may not have been directly responsible for the tactics used.
None of this mattered at the time; however, 16th-century Japan was a period where reputation was everything, and Mitsunari’s was bad. It can be reasoned that some of his enemies sided with Ieyasu for no reason other than that they wanted to make life difficult for Mitsunari, but as long as Maeda Toshiie lived, the unity of the council was preserved.
Kato Kiyomasa, one of the men allegedly slandered by Mitsunari.
The problem with political systems that require their main actors to remain alive indefinitely is that, generally, they don’t. Toshiie was no different, and in an ominous sign, on the very day he died, Mitsunari was attacked by seven of the men he had allegedly slandered, and was lucky to escape with his life.
Ieyasu then stepped in to mediate, and in exchange for agreeing to resign his political position, Mitsunari was allowed to live, albeit temporarily. Exactly why Ieyasu stepped in to protect his enemy is debated, with some historians believing that the enmity didn’t run as deep as once believed (the men had cooperated previously), or that Ieyasu correctly predicted that the settlement would not last, and the hostility towards Mitsunari would be something he could take advantage of when the time came, and the time would come sooner than any of the major players knew.
In 1591, with dominance of Japan secured, Hideyoshi announced his intention to invade Ming China, via Korea, launching the first of two campaigns to subjugate the small kingdom. We’ll take a look at these invasions in more detail later, but in summary, the Japanese landed with a force of some 160,000 veteran warriors and achieved a series of quick successes against the Koreans.
A contemporary Korean image of the Japanese attack on Busan.
However, Chinese intervention turned back the invasion, and ultimately led to a stalemate that ended in a negotiated peace in 1593, that saw Japanese warriors remain in the fortresses they have built in the south of the peninsular, from which they would launch a second attempt in 1597, which would end when political changes at home saw the Japanese leave, with both sides declaring ‘victory’.
Meanwhile, Hideyoshi, who had ordered the invasion but did not travel to Korea himself, was facing problems closer to home. In 1591, his brother, Hidenaga, who had been an important military and political supporter, died. This was followed in short order by Tsurumatsu, Hideyoshi’s two-year-old son and heir, throwing the succession into doubt.
A stylised image of Tsurumatsu, who was only two when he died.
In response, Hideyoshi adopted his nephew, Hidetsugu, as heir to the Toyotomi family, and (presumably) eventually to supreme power. This arrangement endured until 1593, when one of Hideyoshi’s concubines, Lady Yodo, gave birth to a second son, Hideyori, whose arrival was apparently widely celebrated.
That is, widely celebrated by everyone but Hidetsugu, whose position was now under threat. In 1595, rumours began to spread that Hidetsugu was plotting rebellion, and a delegation, led by Ishida Mitsunari, was sent to his residence to investigate. He wrote a five-page letter declaring himself innocent of the accusations, which was promptly delivered to Hideyoshi.
Toyotomi Hidetsugu
Hideyoshi then summoned his nephew for an audience, but when Hidetsugu arrived at Fushimi Castle, as ordered, he was denied entry and instead told to shave his head and become a monk. Hidetsugu apparently complied, retiring to Mount Koya. However, even this was not enough, and on August 20th, 1595, an order arrived demanding Hidetsugu commit seppuku.
Hidetsugu swiftly complied, but even this did not satisfy Hideyoshi, who went further and ordered the deaths of Hidetsugu’s entire family. In the end, 39 people, including children, wives, and concubines, were beheaded at Sanjo Kawara, in Kyoto, and dumped in a mass grave. Some sources say that the commoners who came to watch were so disgusted with the manner of the executions that they began hurling insults at the magistrates responsible, and in the aftermath, a memorial stone dedicated to “Hideyoshi’s Evil” was erected.
A 19th-century depiction of Hidetsugu committing seppuku. Even his death did not spare his family from Hideyoshi’s wrath.
Theories around why Hideyoshi ordered his nephew’s death, and why it was carried out with such thorough brutality, have swirled since the moment Hidetsugu’s head was struck off. A common view is that Hidetsugu really was planning to rebel, or at least Hideyoshi believed he was, and the purge that followed was simply ensuring no one survived to take revenge.
Another theory is that Hidetsugu himself had earned a reputation as a violent lunatic, routinely hacking people down in the street, and even being known to take potshots at commoners with a musket, earning him the nickname the “Killing Regent”. Modern scholars are generally sceptical of this reputation, however, citing a lack of contemporary sources referring to what should have been a fairly well-known situation.
A much later depiction of Hidetsugu (top left) taking potshots at passersby. Images like this served to discredit Hidetsugu’s memory, but sources from his lifetime make no mention of such behaviour, except in reporting rumours.
An addition to this theory is that Ishida Mitsunari, and his associates, deliberate sought to slander Hidetsugu in the eyes of Hideyoshi, though again this is now widely seen as a latter invention, written by authors in the Edo Period, decades after the events, and writing at a time when there was active interest in painting both Hideyoshi, and Mitsunari in a bad light.
All of this paints Hideyoshi in an increasingly tyrannical light, and subsequent events in his reign would not help matters. In 1596, the Keicho-Fushimi Earthquake struck the area around modern Osaka, leading to widespread damage and the deaths of more than a thousand people. Earthquakes are nothing out of the ordinary in Japan, but damage to several temples around Kyoto prompted an inspection by Hideyoshi himself.
A 19th-century depiction of Hideyoshi during the Keicho-Fushimi Earthquake.
At the Hokoji Temple, Hideyoshi had ordered the construction of a “Great Buddha”, which was said to be over 19m tall, making it one of the largest in history. However, in order to speed up construction, Hideyoshi is said to have ordered the construction changed from the traditional bronze to wood. When the earthquake struck, the Buddha was badly damaged as a result of its lighter construction.
It is said that Hideyoshi, enraged at the damage caused to so expensive a monument, took a bow and shot an arrow into the Buddha’s forehead. Such an act of sacrilege was widely condemned, but scholars disagree over whether it actually happened, as the only sources (again) come from much later. The contemporary sources only say that Hideyoshi, upon inspecting the damage, ordered the Buddha and the hall containing it to be dismantled.
A sketch by Dutch merchant Engelbert Kaempfer, showing the great Buddha as it appeared in 1691.
On a side note, both structures would be reconstructed by Hideyoshi’s successor, Hideyori, and the re-consecration of the site would indirectly lead to the downfall and destruction of the Toyotomi Clan in 1615, but that’s a story for another time.
As we’ve discussed previously, Hideyoshi had issued an order expelling Christian missionaries from Japan back in 1587, but it had generally gone unenforced. That changed in 1596, when the Spanish Galleon, San Felipe, wrecked off the coast of Shikoku. In the immediate aftermath, the local lord (who happened to be a Chosokabe) confiscated the ship’s cargo, and the Spanish complained to Hideyoshi.
A European Ship in Japanese waters around the late 16th Century.
It seems that Hideyoshi himself didn’t much care about the confiscated Spanish treasure; however, one of the crew aboard the San Felipe, a man known as de Hollandia, proved to be a bit of a blowhard. He boasted to the local Japanese authorities that the Spanish Empire was vast, and he produced a map of the world to prove his point.
The Japanese were shocked that the Spanish holdings were so extensive, and when they asked how Spain had come to acquire such territory, de Hollandia made the fateful mistake of claiming that missionaries had gone in first to convert the population, who then served as a vanguard for the Conquistadors who followed.
The classic image of a Conquistador, this one in Seville, Spain. Though the Conquistadors were very successful in the Americas and the Philippines, they never set foot in Japan, though Hideyoshi had reason to fear they might. By CarlosVdeHabsburgo – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=24964604
Hideyoshi may not have cared about treasure, but he was definitely paying attention now. He took the silver for himself and then ordered all Spanish Friars in Osaka arrested, along with several Japanese converts. In the end, 26 were taken to Nagasaki and publicly executed
1596 also saw the restart of conflict in Korea, when negotiations with the Chinese broke down, and Hideyoshi ordered a second invasion, dispatching 140,000 men to reinforce the garrisons already in place. This time, instead of attempting to take the whole of Korea, Hideyoshi planned a more limited campaign, advancing into Gyeongsang Province and securing defensible positions there to serve as staging grounds for another round of conquest later.
An image depicting the fighting around Ulsan, site of some of the fiercest battles of the second invasion.
By late 1597, however, Hideyoshi knew he was nearly done. His son and heir, Hideyori, was just a child, and he knew that his succession was far from guaranteed. In order to guarantee a peaceful transfer of power, he summoned five powerful Daimyo to Fushimi, making them swear to rule the realm as a Council of Regents (or Elders) until Hideyori came of age.
The five regents were Ukita Hideie, Maeda Toshiie, Uesugi Kagekatsu, Mori Terumoto, and Tokugawa Ieyasu. Of the five, Ieyasu was far and away the most powerful, though he was not strong enough to oppose the other four directly, especially the venerable Maeda Toshiie and Mori Terumoto. This was presumably the point, however, as Hideyoshi wanted to create a council that was made up of men strong enough to rule, but not strong enough to rule alone.
The Council of Five Elders, from left to right: Tokugawa Ieyasu, Ukita Hideie, Maeda Toshiie, Uesugi Kagekatsu, and Mori Terumoto. Of the five, Ieyasu was the most powerful, and it became the task of the other four to rein him in.
Hideyoshi passed away in August 1598, and the order he had done so much to create would not long outlive him. The council he had created fell apart within a year, following the death of Maeda Toshiie in 1599 and the political manoeuvring of Tokugawa Ieyasu, who won the decisive Battle of Sekigahara in 1600 and was declared Shogun in 1603.
Though Hideyori would never rule in his own right, he would continue on as a living example of Hideyoshi’s legacy, but he would eventually fall foul of the rising power of the Tokugawa, and Hideyoshi’s line would come to an end in 1615, though, once again, we are getting ahead of ourselves.
Last time, we looked at how the relationship between Mori Terumoto and Oda Nobunaga broke down, leaving both sides on the verge of conflict. After Terumoto declared for the Shogun, Ashikaga Yoshiaki (the last Ashikaga Shogun) declared that Terumoto would serve as ‘Vice Shogun’, a slightly ambiguous position which was rendered largely moot in practice, as the Shogun relied almost entirely on Mori’s strength of arms, reducing him to little more than a figurehead.
Ashikaga Yoshiaki, the last of the Ashikaga Shoguns, and little more than a figurehead.
The first action of this new ‘Shogunate’ (read: Mori) army was supporting the besieged warrior monks of Ishiyama Hongan-ji. You may recall in the post about the Ikko-Ikki, we mentioned Nobunaga’s campaigns against Hongan-ji, which ultimately lasted more than a decade, and left the temple a charred ruin.
The Mori, possessing one of the most powerful navies amongst the Sengoku Daimyo, dispatched a fleet which made short work of the Oda forces in Osaka Bay, opening the way for supplies to be delivered to Hongan-ji. This victory prolonged the siege and gave the Mori unchallenged control of the Seto Inland Sea in the short term.
Later that year, Nobunaga sought to restore the Amago Clan (long-time enemies of the Mori) to a position of strength, putting up Amago Katsuhisa, the last Amago ‘lord’ at Kozuki Castle, in Harima Province, hoping to attract Amago loyalists and any other opponents of the Mori, and make life difficult for Terumoto.
A later image of Amago Katsuhisa, the last ‘lord’ of the Amago Clan.
In response, Terumoto himself led an army to lay siege to Kozuki, and when a relief force, led by Hashiba (later Toyotomi) Hideyoshi, arrived, Terumoto handily defeated it, driving the Oda out of Harima Province, taking Kozuki Castle, and obliging the remaining Amago partisans to commit seppuku, which isn’t bad for a day’s work.
Not long after this success, Terumoto would expand his influence in Harima still further, convincing several lords to defect to the Mori, and bottling up Nobunaga’s remaining loyalists in the province. After this series of successes, Terumoto had Nobunaga on the back foot, and in response, he pressured the Imperial Court to issue an order that Hongan-ji make peace with Nobunaga. The monks of Hongan-ji expressed a desire to make peace, but not without Terumoto, to whom they owed a debt of gratitude. In response, Nobunaga agreed and began negotiations with Hongan-ji and the Mori.
The strategic situation shifted considerably in the early winter, however, as a Mori fleet dispatched to deliver further supplies to Hongan-ji was defeated by new ironclad ships of the Oda Navy. The exact nature of these vessels isn’t clear; the word ‘ironclad’ is a direct translation from Japanese, implying the vessels were at least partially armoured, though the exact style and extent of armour isn’t clearly recorded.
An example of the type of warship used by the Mori Navy.
Shortly after this victory, which drove the Mori beyond Awaji Island and opened Osaka Bay to the Oda, Nobunaga swiftly called off negotiations and made plans to continue the war. Despite the defeat, the Mori were still in a very strong position, however, and at this point, Terumoto made plans to advance on Kyoto and take the fight to Nobunaga directly.
Plans were laid, including negotiation with Takeda Katsuyori for a simultaneous attack on Nobunaga’s ally, Tokugawa Ieyasu, and Terumoto set the date of the start of the campaign for early 1579. However, early 1579 came and went, and the Mori did not march. A series of rebellions broke out around the same time, supposedly instigated by both Nobunaga and the Otomo Clan (rivals to the Mori on Kyushu), and Terumoto had his hands full.
The situation went from bad to worse for the Mori throughout 1579, as several border clans, angered at what they saw as a ‘betrayal’ when Terumoto failed to march on Kyoto, defected to the Oda side, disrupting communications with troops on the front line, and opening several gaps in Mori defences. The Mori failure to march also resulted in no further attempts to relieve Hongan-ji, and it was forced to surrender in early 1580.
Not long after that, Nobunaga was able to focus significant forces on the Mori, and an army led by Hashiba Hideyoshi took advantage of the Mori’s weak position and launched a series of successful attacks against them, capturing castle after castle. A counter-attack in February 1582 led to a brief reprieve, but news from elsewhere was bad.
A later artistic depiction of Toyotomi Hideyoshi (then still called Hashiba) around 1582.
The Takeda, with whom the Mori had allied against Nobunaga, were decisively defeated in early Spring, and with their removal, Nobunaga turned his entire attention to the Mori. The situation was dire. A little more than five years earlier, the Mori had been a match for Nobunaga; indeed, had Terumoto marched on Kyoto, he would have had a good chance of success.
Now, however, Nobunaga was stronger than ever, and internal rebellion, defections, and military defeats meant that the Mori were far weaker in comparison. Had Nobunaga advanced, he almost certainly would have won.
As is so often the case, however, fate intervened. Nobunaga was betrayed by one of his generals in June 1582 and killed. His supporters immediately turned on each other, with Hashiba Hideyoshi, the man who had been leading the charge against the Mori, wishing to establish himself as Nobunaga’s successor, and so he concluded a swift peace with the Mori. For his part, Terumoto was glad to accept, even though it meant sacrificing three provinces. When news of Nobunaga’s death broke, Ashikaga Yoshiaki, still with the Mori, ordered Terumoto to march on Kyoto and take advantage of the situation.
A 19th century depiction of Oda Nobunaga’s final moments.
Terumoto refused, still forced to deal with internal rebellion, and although there would be plenty of opportunities to involve himself in the chaotic fighting that followed Nobunaga’s betrayal, the Mori would not move, instead adopting a ‘wait and see’ approach, which, in hindsight was wise, as although history would record Hideyoshi as the ultimate victor, in the summer of 1582, that was far from certain.
One thing that Terumoto did agree to, however, was refusing to accept the ceding of three provinces to Hideyoshi as part of their peace deal. No doubt the Mori felt that Hideyoshi had misled them (Terumoto hadn’t known about Nobunaga’s death before the agreement), and with Nobunaga’s successors tearing each other apart, the Mori were in a good position to keep hold of their territory.
Negotiations dragged on, even after Hideyoshi was able to win a decisive victory at the Battle of Shizugatake in April 1583, and he began to lose patience, threatening a resumption of war if the Mori didn’t concede. It would not be until early 1585 that a peace was actually agreed, and it was achieved largely without fresh fighting. The Mori would be allowed to keep seven provinces, representing much of the territory that had been taken by Terumoto’s grandfather, Motonari. In exchange, the Mori agreed to support Hideyoshi’s campaigns to unite the realm, especially in Shikoku and Kyushu, which the Mori assisted in invading in May 1585 and August 1586, respectively.
Finally, in the summer of 1586, Terumoto formally became a vassal of Hideyoshi (by now known as Toyotomi), ending decades of conflict and proving to be a significant step in bringing the Sengoku Jidai to an end more generally. A testament to the new trust placed in the Mori came in 1590, when Hideyoshi attacked the Hojo Clan, masters of the Kanto. Though the Mori did not join the campaign, Mori troops were entrusted with guarding the capital while Hideyoshi was away.
Around this time, Terumoto completed his new base at Hiroshima Castle and would take part in Hideyoshi’s ill-fated invasion of Korea in 1592. We will go into more detail about the events that followed later, but after Hideyoshi’s death in 1598, Terumoto was named as one of five regents for his infant son, Hideyori.
The five regents were meant to stabilise the realm until Hideyori came of age, but it didn’t work; Tokugawa Ieyasu was swiftly opposed by the other four as it was believed (rightly as it turned out) that he wished to overthrow the current government and make himself Shogun. The tension would eventually lead to a new outbreak of violence, and a brief campaign culminated in the decisive Battle of Sekigahara in 1600.
Teruhito and the Mori Clan were officially in opposition to the victorious Ieyasu, but had dispatched only a small force to Sekigahara, keeping their main strength at Osaka Castle to guard the heir. This was the strongest castle in the realm, and Terumoto had tens of thousands of fresh troops with which to hold it. Ieyasu, apparently aware of this, dispatched a letter to Terumoto, expressing his desire for positive relations between the two, and hoping that the Mori would depart Osaka without further violence.
The walls of Osaka Castle as they appeared in 1865.
Terumoto agreed when Ieyasu confirmed that the Mori would lose no territory in the aftermath. However, Ieyasu would almost immediately go back on his word once Terumoto was safely away from Osaka. The Mori were reduced to just two provinces in the far west, Suo and Nagato, and almost all the territory taken by Motonari and Terumoto was lost.
Terumoto himself would officially retire as head of the clan not long after Sekigahara and became a monk, though in reality, he would retain most of the actual authority within the clan. One challenge that came about almost immediately was the loss of income that came with the loss of territory. Before Sekigahara, the Mori had had an income of more than 1 million koku (a Koku being approximately how much rice one man needed for a year). After Sekigahara and the loss of five of their provinces, this income was down to less than 300,000.
This loss in income led to a loss in strength, as many of the clan’s retainers found their stipends reduced or lost entirely, leading them to seek employment elsewhere (just in case you thought Samurai were all about unquestioned loyalty.) Terumoto rather astutely recognised that this reduction might actually benefit the clan long term, as disloyal vassals would leave quickly, and even those who remained could be chosen based on ability, leading to a reduction in the clan’s overall strength, but perhaps improving skill and efficiency, at least in theory.
A 19th century photograph of Hagi Castle, where the Mori Clan were based after their forced relocation.
This would prove a wise move, as a land survey in 1610 showed that the Mori’s financial situation was better than originally assumed, and the reduction in vassals and retainers had led to a leaner, more efficient administration.
Peace in the realm would last a while under Tokugawa Ieyasu’s rule, but it was a fragile thing. In 1614, the now adult Toyotomi Hideyori (Hideyoshi’s heir) brought about a crisis when a new prayer bell was inscribed with language that was interpreted as calling for the overthrow of the Tokugawa. Hideyori holed up in Osaka Castle and called on all ‘loyal vassals’ to come to his aid. Most, including Terumoto, ignored him, and when Ieyasu marched on Osaka, he requested the Mori dispatch their navy in support, which they duly did.
Terumoto also led an army to Osaka, though the Mori would ultimately play a relatively small role in the so-called Winter Siege of Osaka. The following year, during what is called the Summer Siege, Ieyasu attacked Osaka again, this time successfully, capturing and executing Hideyori, and bringing his line to an end.
Tokugawa Ieyasu, the man who would ultimately bring the Sengoku Jidai to an end.
The Mori were again asked to dispatch an army, but delays in orders and the length of the march meant they arrived only after Osaka had fallen. There was some concern that this delay might be interpreted as treachery by Ieyasu; however, even the savvy political operator, Ieyasu, chose to lay the blame on slow communication instead, sparing the blushes of the Mori.
Terumoto, his health failing and age catching up with him, handed full control of the clan over to his heir, Hidenari, in 1621, and although a formal system of ‘dual leadership’ would continue, it was becoming increasingly clear that Terumoto’s time was running out.
He would continue to play a role in the affairs of the Mori until his death in 1625, and his clan’s distant position from the new capital in Edo afforded them a certain degree of autonomy, at least with regard to internal affairs, in the years that followed.
That would prove important in the 19th century, as the arrival of American ships in Edo Bay forced Japan to end its period of isolation. It would be the Mori Clan, based in what by then was called the Choshu Domain, who would lead the charge against the Tokugawa Shogunate, overthrowing it, and re-establishing Imperial Rule in the so-called Meiji Restoration, but we are getting way ahead of ourselves.
Mori Motonari, the last lord of Choshu Domain.
Mori Terumoto is one of the giants of the Sengoku Era. Building on the successes of his grandfather, Motonari, he led the Mori to a position in which they may well have been able to take power for themselves, had things gone a little differently. Ultimately, despite never gaining ultimate power for themselves, Terumoto and his successors would prove to be one of the success stories of this period, surviving the turmoil and even thriving in the new Japan of the 19th Century.
Chris Perry, Author 