Pathway to Japanese Literature

Sanada vs. Tokugawa There are various theories regarding Sanada Yukimura’s name, but it is certain that he was called Nobushige, as his elder brother Nobuyuki stated: “My younger brother’s true name shares both the characters and the given name of Takeda Shingen’s younger brother Nobukatsu.”

The author of *Sanadake Korō Monogatari*, Momoi Tomonao, stated: “Upon consideration, he was initially called Nobushige, later Yukishige in middle years, and finally Nobuyoshi.” Around the time of the Osaka Campaigns, he came to be known as Yukimura; however, the author of *Tsuneyama Kidan* recorded his name as Nobuyori. From this evidence, it appears he may have been commonly referred to as Nobuyori during the Tokugawa era. Nevertheless, the name Yukimura became overwhelmingly dominant after being adopted by popular writers of that period.

In ancient times, there was no such thing as name divination, yet someone as exceptionally talented as Yukimura likely changed his name on various occasions when faced with pivotal moments and events. The Sanada were descendants of Ueno Kotarō, a renowned clan of Shinano, and were themselves a distinguished family. In the time of Yukitaka, his grandfather, they served the Takeda, and this Yukitaka was a brilliant strategist who mastered the art of counterintelligence. It was called the Chronicle of Three Sanada Generations, but if one included Yukitaka and Yukimura’s son Daisuke, it could well have been considered a chronicle of four generations. Fundamentally, Sanada Yukimura was not a warrior beholden to the Toyotomi clan, yet why did he meet such a spectacular death in battle for Hideyori? This likely stemmed from the accumulated grudges against the Tokugawa house dating back to his father Masayuki’s era.

Numata in Kōzuke Province lies where the upper reaches of the Tone River converge with the Katashina River—a peerless strategic location flanked by the Tone on the right and the Katashina on the left. After the fall of the Kantō Kanrei family, it became land seized by the Sanada through their own strength. After Takeda’s demise, the Sanada had temporarily submitted to Tokugawa rule. However, when Ieyasu negotiated peace with the Hojo clan—yielding to Hojo demands—Numata was to be handed over to their side. Ieyasu told the Sanada: “Relinquish Numata to the Hojo, and in exchange I shall grant you Ueda.”

However, Masayuki argued that Ueda had been the Sanada’s seat since the days of Shingen, and there was no reason to receive it from the Tokugawa. Moreover, Numata was land we took with our own blades. Declaring they could not surrender it without cause, he refused Ieyasu’s demand and secretly sent a messenger to Hideyoshi to inform him of their intent to pledge allegiance.

This occurred in the 13th year of the Tenshō era (1585).

Ieyasu, enraged, ordered Ōkubo Tadayo, Torii Mototada, Ii Naomasa, and others to attack.

Masayuki repelled them with considerable military strategy. It is said that immediately after Komakiyama, when relations between Hideyoshi and Ieyasu were strained, Hideyoshi had ordered Uesugi Kagekatsu to support Masayuki. This confrontation marked the first time Sanada confronted Tokugawa. At the same time, this marked the first instance in which Sanada came under Toyotomi Hideyoshi’s patronage. Afterward, since Ieyasu had made peace with Hideyoshi, Masayuki also strategically made peace with Ieyasu. Ieyasu, deeming Masayuki’s martial prowess formidable, sought to make Sanada’s legitimate heir Nobuyuki the son-in-law of Honda Tadakatsu. And when he sent an envoy, Sanada Masayuki declared, “Such an envoy is unacceptable. It must be a misunderstanding on the envoy’s part. Hurry back and report this,” he declared, refusing to accept.

One can imagine Masayuki’s resolve in declaring, “How could I allow marrying into a Tokugawa retainer’s family?”

Thereupon, when Ieyasu consulted Hideyoshi, “Sanada’s stance is justified. Since I have adopted Nakatsukasa’s daughter as my own, I shall consent to take her as my son-in-law,” he declared. Ieyasu promptly adopted Honda Tadakatsu’s daughter as his own and had her marry Nobuyuki. In the end, Nobuyuki, drawn by his wife’s familial ties, parted from his father and younger brother in later years and aligned himself with Ieyasu.

However, in the 16th year of Tenshō (1588), when Toyotomi Hideyoshi began negotiations to summon Hōjō Ujimasa to Kyoto, the Hōjō family once again presented the cession of Numata as their condition. During their earlier peace with Lord Tokugawa, they had been meant to receive it, but Sanada made unreasonable demands and they could not obtain it. This time, they insisted on receiving Numata, declaring they would then proceed to Kyoto. The Hōjō envoy at this time was a man called Itabeoka Gansetsusai.

As for the Hōjō, they likely did not truly desire Numata, but probably intended to present such a difficult condition to uphold their family's honor before proceeding to the capital. Hideyoshi incorporated Numata into the Sanada territories in Kōzuke Province, compelled them to cede two-thirds to the Hōjō, and designated the remaining third along with Nameguchi Castle as Sanada territory. Regarding compensation for Numata, it was decided that Tokugawa would grant it to Sanada.

Gansetsusai acknowledged this and returned. However, Inomata Norinao—a warrior who had become castellan of Numata—acting recklessly on his own authority and disregarding the treaty entirely, went so far as to capture Nameguchi Castle within Sanada territory. Masayuki appealed this to the Taikō. Enraged by the Hōjō clan’s treaty violation, the Taikō finally resolved to launch the Odawara Campaign. From Masayuki’s perspective, Hideyoshi had mobilized a massive army for this Hōjō campaign specifically to uphold his honor—he must have been deeply gratified. When Masayuki unhesitatingly sided with Osaka at Sekigahara years later, he must have recalled this very moment of vindication.

This is a digression, but after the fall of Odawara, Hideyoshi captured Itabeoka Gansetsusai—the envoy at that time—shackled his hands and feet, dragged him before his presence, and rebuked: “It was due to your false words that the Hōjō house perished.” “Does it please you to have destroyed your own lord’s house?” he taunted. Yet this Gansetsusai, true to his role as envoy of the Great Hōjō, did not flinch in the slightest. “Within the Hōjō family,” he declared, “there was never any intent to betray [the treaty]. But regional warriors ignorant of current affairs seized Nameguchi—this marks where the Hōjō’s fate ended, a matter beyond redress.” “Yet taking on the realm’s great army and holding out for half a year—this is the Hōjō family’s honor!” he boasted.

Hideyoshi deemed this response admirable and declared, “I had intended to send you to Kyoto and crucify you,” before pardoning him. At that time, when Masamune—who had just arrived from Oshu—was being entertained at a banquet, Gansetsusai also attended as a guest. His dignified reply must have greatly pleased Hideyoshi. In any case, when they first fought against the Tokugawa house, they had Hideyoshi’s support. Since Hideyoshi had launched his campaign against the Hojo clan over their seizure of Nameguchi—our territory—Masayuki must have been deeply moved by his resolve.

Afterward, Masayuki offered Yukimura as a hostage to demonstrate his loyalty to Hideyoshi. Therefore, Yukimura stayed close to Hideyoshi and must have been treated quite favorably.

Sanada at the Battle of Sekigahara

At the time of Sekigahara, while the Sanada father and his two sons were accompanying Ieyasu on the march to Aizu, an envoy from Ishida Mitsunari arrived. The envoy informed Masayuki along with his sons Nobuyuki and Yukimura—the brothers—and they held discussions.

Masayuki naturally declared his support for Osaka’s cause. He argued that his eldest son Nobuyuki and Lord Tokugawa—men whose grand strategies surpassed those of a million others—were not adversaries to be destroyed; aligning with Tokugawa remained preferable. Here chronicles recount how Nobuyuki and Yukimura clashed vehemently. I recall Mr. Sasaki Misuzu’s popular novel opening precisely with this scene of fraternal conflict. When Nobuyuki stated, “My ties to Honda make siding with Ishida impossible,” Yukimura countered, “Would you truly draw bow against our father, swayed by your wife’s connections?”

Nobuyuki argued that siding with Ishida would inevitably lead to defeat—and when that came, all their allies would surely face execution. “We must save our father and younger brother from peril,” he urged, “and devise a way to prevent the house’s destruction.” Yukimura declared, “If the Western Army falls, Father and I shall become dust upon this battlefield. What need have I to seek your help? Since the thirteenth year of Tenshō, we have been deeply indebted to the Toyotomi house; siding with Ishida is only natural. If the time comes for both our house and people to perish, it is better to act with honor—why would we scheme to live on in disgrace?” Nobuyuki, enraged, moved to strike down Yukimura. “You may take my head,” Yukimura countered, “but my life shall be spent in service to the Toyotomi house. Such is my resolve.” Masayuki mediated, acknowledging that each brother’s argument held its own reason—Nobuyuki likely perceived that Ishida’s current actions were not true loyalty to Hideyori’s cause. “Since my thoughts align with Yukimura’s,” Masayuki resolved, “I shall return together with him.” It is said that Nobuyuki bid farewell with final words: “Do as your heart dictates.”

It is said that the location of this meeting was Sano Tenmyō, while there are also theories that it was a place called Inubushi. This heated debate between the brothers was likely imagined by later generations. Nobuyuki and Yukimura were already over thirty and seasoned generals known for their profound strategy; thus, they would not have engaged in such a heated argument. Moreover, there was no reason he would attempt to strike his younger brother, who shared their father’s opinion. It must certainly have been a somber and grave consultation. As we of later years know, since it was not clear that the Ishida faction would be decisively defeated, the father and sons’ arguments must have diverged. And it was only natural that Nobuyuki, being Honda Tadakatsu’s son-in-law, had grown close to the Tokugawa over time.

Moreover, in Masayuki’s mind, there must have been the belief that if the Sanada were split between the Eastern and Western Armies, at least one branch of their bloodline would endure. In the event of defeat, there may have been a tacit agreement between them to secretly aid one another. Since both the father and sons were intelligent, they would not have engaged in heated arguments during crucial situations. Later generations likely conjured such scenes from Yukimura’s subsequent actions.

The Sanada clan’s division between the Eastern and Western Armies was the optimal strategy to prevent the family’s annihilation. In market terms, their approach resembled hedging—simultaneously holding both long and short positions. Yet hedging does not lead to decisive victory. Had all three Sanada fathers and sons sided with Ieyasu, they might have become daimyōs controlling 500,000 *koku*. Nobuyuki alone barely survived as a daimyō of just over 100,000 *koku*. Still, compared to the daimyos who vanished without trace at Sekigahara, this outcome proved marginally preferable.

When Nobuyuki went to Ieyasu’s presence, Ieyasu rejoiced and said, “It feels as though we have broken one arm of Lord Awa-no-kami! If you wish to triumph in battle, take this as my pledge to grant you Shinano.” With that, he cut off the end of his sword’s cord and gave it to him.

Masayuki and Yukimura attempted to stop by Numata on their way back to Shinano. Numata Castle was Nobuyuki’s stronghold, guarded in his absence by his wife—the daughter of Honda Tadakatsu. However, when Masayuki attempted to enter, she declared, “Since father and son have become enemies and parted ways, even if you are his father, allowing you into the castle is unthinkable.” With that, she barred the gates, had the women arm themselves, and tethered a dappled horse from the stables to the main entrance. Masayuki, impressed, remarked, “Truly, she is the daughter of Honda Nakatsukasa-no-kami, renowned as Japan’s finest! A warrior’s wife ought to be just so,” then turned away and returned to Ueda. Honda Heihachirō Tadakatsu was the foremost stalwart general of the Tokugawa house. At the Battle of Komakiyama, with five hundred cavalrymen, he held off Hideyoshi’s army of tens of thousands—a feat that left Hideyoshi himself in awe. He was a man foremost in military exploits, wielding the Tombokiri long spear. Once, Tadakatsu floated a boat in the moat of Kuwana Castle with his son Tadaaki and told him, “Try striking those reeds with an oar.” Tadaaki too was a young man of peerless strength, but when he took the oar and struck the reeds, they snapped. Seeing this, Tadakatsu declared, “The youths of today are too soft! Let me show you how it’s done.” He then took the oar himself and swept it sideways—the reeds were cleanly severed. Whether such a thing was possible remains unclear, but it was said none but Tadakatsu could inherit the loyalty symbolized by Hideyoshi’s helmet. He was often compared to Tachibana Muneshige of western Japan as Kantō’s quintessential warrior—Honda Tadakatsu.

The tale of Masayuki defending Ueda Castle, stalling Hidetada’s vast army advancing along the Tōsandō, and ultimately preventing them from reaching Sekigahara in time is historically renowned. If the Western Army had won the Battle of Sekigahara and rewards had been distributed based on merit, Masayuki would have been recognized as the foremost in meritorious deeds. As Ishida Mitsunari had promised, he would likely have received around three provinces: Shinano supplemented by Kai—the ancestral land of their former lord Takeda—and Kōzuke, which included Numata.

Sanada Awa-no-kami Masayuki would likely have been a first-rate figure even in the Sengoku period. Like Kuroda Yoshitaka, Ōtani Yoshitsugu, and Kobayakawa Takakage, he was a commander with statesmanlike qualities—a man who, given different circumstances and position, might have accomplished deeds comparable to Ieyasu, Motonari, or Masamune. Moreover, as a formidable retainer of Shingen renowned for military prowess, he must have commanded awe in his time. During the Siege of Osaka, when Tokugawa Ieyasu heard of Yukimura’s valiant efforts and praised him, saying “He does not fall short of his father Lord Awa-no-kami,” we glimpse the measure of Masayuki’s character. Though his domain was small, Ieyasu and others must have found him thoroughly vexing.

When Hidetada’s army surrounded Ueda, a messenger from the besieging force was ordered to deliver a message to their allied camp on the opposite side. However, since going around the castle would take too long, he went to the main gate and requested passage through the castle. Masayuki, upon hearing this, deemed it a simple matter and allowed him to pass. On his return, the man came to the rear gate again and requested passage. Masayuki again deemed it a simple matter, allowing him passage through the castle and even guiding him around various areas. People of the time marveled, saying, “The fellow who passed through was quite a fellow, but the fellow who allowed it was even more so!”

During this castle siege, Kamiizumi Nobutsuna—later known as Ono Jirōzaemon—displayed the merit of the first strike. There are those who argue that master swordsmen are not necessarily useful on the battlefield, but this is not always the case; knowing that a direct assault would be difficult, they left a holding force and advanced along the Tōsandō but did not reach Sekigahara in time. After the Battle of Sekigahara, when Masayuki and his son were already in peril, Nobuyuki pleaded to exchange Shinano Province for the lives of his father and brother. However, Hidetada’s anger—provoked by Masayuki’s obstruction—did not easily subside. Yet Nobuyuki persisted, declaring, “Before my father is executed, let the order for seppuku be given to me, Izu-no-kami,” thereby ultimately saving his father and brother’s lives. People of the time marveled, “How different Izu-no-kami is from Yoshitomo!”

Entry into Osaka Castle

After the Battle of Sekigahara, Masayuki and his son retired to the retreat at Kudoyama at the foot of Mount Kōya. It is said that during this time, they developed a side industry—the Sanada cord… Masayuki died at sixty-seven. On his deathbed, Masayuki lamented, “Within three years of my death, the East and West will surely sever ties. Had I lived, I would have had full confidence in [preventing this].” Yukimura said, “Please teach me that strategy.” Masayuki replied, “Teaching you the strategy is easy enough, but you lack the prestige I possess. Even with a strategy, it will not be carried out.” When Yukimura insisted, Masayuki continued: “If East and West sever ties, lead the army first to engage the enemy at Mino-Aonogahara. But do not seek decisive battle with the Eastern Army—handle them lightly and withdraw to Seta. There you should hold out for four or five days. This done, rumors will spread across the land that Sanada Awa-no-kami supports the Eastern Army, enabling daimyos indebted to the Taikō to join Osaka’s side.” He concluded: “This strategy could work had I lived. Though your military cunning matches mine, you lack the prestige—thus this plan will never be executed.”

In later years, Yukimura entered Osaka Castle and advocated sallying forth to intercept the Eastern Army during the Winter Campaign, but his proposal was ultimately not accepted. It was, they say, exactly as Masayuki had foreseen.

Before the Siege of Osaka began, a summons from Hideyori came to Yukimura. Given that he had no desire to serve under the Tokugawa house, Yukimura had no choice but to rely on Osaka to achieve his aims. It was not merely loyalty to Hideyori; there was also inherited stubbornness from his father, and perhaps even a warrior’s dream, however modest.

As rumors of Sanada’s entry into Osaka Castle were rampant, Asano Nagaakira, the lord of Kii Province, commanded the peasants near Kudoyama to secretly keep watch.

However, under the pretext of hosting a memorial service for his father Masayuki, Yukimura invited nearby village headmen and wealthy landowners. He forced them to drink indiscriminately—regardless of whether they were light or heavy drinkers—until they collapsed in drunken stupors. During this interval, his family and retainers briskly loaded their prepared luggage onto horses the peasants had ridden in on. With roughly a hundred men in their company—spears bared, naginata blades unsheathed, matchlocks primed with fuses—they crossed the Kii River and set out for Osaka. The nearby peasants raised a flustered commotion, but with the village leaders in every hamlet passed out drunk at the Sanada residence, there was nothing they could do. When Asano Nagaakira heard of this, he regretted that assigning peasants to monitor someone of Sanada’s caliber had been his own mistake.

That maneuver—so fitting of a military strategist—was brilliant, he thought.

Upon arriving in Osaka, Yukimura went alone to Ōno Harunaga’s quarters. At that time, having shaved his head, he went by the name Denshin Gessō and presented himself as a yamabushi ascetic of Ōmine, claiming he wished to offer a prayer scroll. As Harunaga was absent at the time, he was made to wait beside the guardhouse where about ten men were playacting at appraising swords and daggers. One samurai said to Yukimura, “Let us see your blade.” With the mountain ascetic’s dog-scaring bluff, Yukimura declared there was nothing worth showing and presented it. When the young samurai drew it and looked, the scent of the blade and the gleam of the metal were beyond description. The wakizashi was no different. To their astonishment, upon examining the tangs, they found the katana was a Masamune and the wakizashi a Sadamune. While the young samurai were in an uproar over this extraordinary discovery, Harunaga returned, and it became clear this was Sanada.

Afterward, Yukimura met with those young samurai and teased them, saying, “How your sword appraisal skills have improved,” it is said.

Sanada Maru

When East and West severed ties, Yukimura sallied from the castle and vehemently advocated intercepting the Eastern Army. Though Gotō Matabei too supported Sanada’s proposal, Ōno, Watanabe, and others would not accept it—in the end, the strategy of holing up in the castle prevailed. As had been written before, they were staking everything on Osaka Castle itself.

As part of siege preparations—since the sole path for a large army to approach Osaka Castle lay to the south—they resolved to construct a fortress in this direction. Beyond Tamatsukuriguchi stood a bamboo-covered hill, an optimal site for fortification, and construction commenced. Yet as laborers worked, they gradually began murmuring among themselves: "None but Sanada could staunchly defend this outpost." Before long, the name "Sanada Maru" had taken root. Through castle deliberations, Yukimura was appointed fortress commander. However, having only seventy-odd hereditary retainers, he declined—until Gotō argued: "When even laborers call it Sanada Maru, would refusal not betray your true intent?" To this Yukimura replied: "Then at least grant me full control over its layout," and accepted.

Based on the secret techniques imparted by Sanada—that is, Masayuki—he built the outpost. It is recorded in *Keigenki Sankō* that Sanada’s outpost—renowned as the “carpenter’s square”—became known as a secret technique among military strategists. During the Winter Campaign, Sanada led the three thousand men assigned to him in defending this perilous small fortress. Facing tens of thousands of enemy troops on all sides, he showed not a trace of fear.

Ieyasu’s Recruitment The fortress of Sanada Maru was never breached during the Winter Campaign. After the peace treaty, Ieyasu attempted to recruit Yukimura, using his uncle Onki no Kami Nobutada as an envoy to urge him to join their side by saying, “We will grant you 30,000 *koku* in Shinano Province.” Yukimura met his uncle Nobutada outside the outpost for the first time in years, but he flatly refused to join the Tokugawa house. Nobutada reluctantly turned back and reported this to Ieyasu, whereupon Ieyasu said, “Then go and ask him again—what if we grant him all of Shinano Province?” When Nobutada met with him again and relayed this message, Yukimura declared, “Not only Shinano Province—even were you to grant me all under heaven itself—I will never commit disloyalty by betraying Lord Hideyori.” “If you send such an envoy again, I shall have my own response,” he declared resolutely and sent him back.

The author of *Jōzan Kidan* and others state that in this case, Yukimura’s efforts to uphold his duty to the Toyotomi house to such an extent cannot necessarily be said to have been in accordance with the Way. “The Toyotomi are not lords whom the Sanada have served for generations. If one were to argue the duty of loyalty to one’s lord, how could the Takeda house have survived had they not abandoned posterity and hidden in the mountains?” and similar critiques. But from Yukimura’s perspective, there was a debt of gratitude owed to the Toyotomi house dating back to his father Masayuki, while toward the Tokugawa house—as previously written—lay layers of inherited defiance that had accumulated since Masayuki’s time. Were it not so, there would be no reason for a warrior to waver now.

While hereditary retainers of the Toyotomi house had joined the Eastern army in attacking the castle, Yukimura—who was not even a hereditary retainer—had resolutely chosen to side with Osaka. Was this not a matter of profound satisfaction? By way of digression, among the hereditary retainers who had sided with Osaka, Katagiri Katsumoto was particularly egregious.

In works such as Dr. Tsubouchi Shōyō’s *The Falling Leaf of the Paulownia*, Katsumoto is portrayed as a man of profound foresight who devised schemes of self-sacrifice to sow discord between East and West after Hideyoshi’s death. But this was false. According to records like *Sunpu-ki*, Katagiri Katsumoto—having incurred Hideyori’s displeasure and left Osaka Castle—proceeded to Ieyasu’s encampment at Nijō in Kyoto, where he consulted with Tōdō Takatora in the shogun’s presence, using maps to plot Osaka’s assault. Furthermore, as recorded in *Honkō Kokushi Nikki*, during the Winter Campaign’s opening phase when Osaka forces pressed into Sakai, Katsumoto dispatched his own troops to aid Sakai, thus demonstrating his loyalty to the retired shogun.

Katagiri Katsumoto’s abominable actions provoked extreme antipathy among the discerning populace of Osaka at the time. There is a tale that a certain gang of chivalrous outlaws finally rose up, attacked Katsumoto, and killed about a hundred of his soldiers. Katagiri Katsumoto later appealed to Ieyasu regarding this and requested that the vigilantes be punished, but Ieyasu laughed and refused. It becomes clear how Katagiri Katsumoto was perceived by the pro-Osaka faction at that time. It is deeply regrettable that works like *The Falling Leaf of the Paulownia* depict Katsumoto as a loyal retainer, but perhaps it’s just as well—once even Utaemon dies, there’ll be no one left to perform such roles.

East-West Peace Treaty

When peace was concluded， Sanada， together with Gotō Matabei， vehemently argued that ceasefire negotiations from Kantō were pure stratagem and that Lord Hideyori must never accept them． Yet， as ever， Ōno， Watanabe， and others refused consent． Yukimura， who happened to share an old friendship from their Takeda household days with Haruhito Sadatane—a retainer of Lord Tadanaga， Echizen Shōshō—invited him one day and hosted a banquet． After several rounds of sake cups， Yukimura produced a small drum， struck it himself， and had his son Daisuke perform several pieces of *kowakamai* dance to complete the revelry．

At this moment, Yukimura declared, “This current peace treaty is but a temporary measure.” Pointing to the alcove, he continued, “Since we believe this will ultimately end in battle, my son and I have resolved to die in combat within a year or two. That deer-antlered helmet you see there was passed down through the Sanada family—Father Lord Awa-no-Kami bestowed it upon me. When battle comes again, I shall wear it to meet my end.” He concluded, “I ask you to bear witness to this.” Then he went out to the garden. Upon a sturdy Shirakawa-dappled horse fitted with a saddle inlaid with gold depicting the Six-Coin Crest, he mounted gracefully and rode five or six circuits before Haruhito. “Once the castle falls,” he declared, “the field will be leveled for open battle. I mean to ride out to Tennōji front and fight until this steed breathes its last—that resolve makes him doubly precious.” Dismounting, they resumed their banquet until midnight, when these old comrades parted with lingering farewells.

Sure enough, the following year, Yukimura donned this helmet, rode this horse, and fell in battle. When this peace treaty was concluded, Sanada Maru—the fortress Yukimura had built—was also ordered to be demolished.

When Honda Masazumi came as the overseer of the demolition work and attempted to dismantle it with his own hands, Yukimura became greatly angered and lodged a protest. But Masazumi did not back down. The news that both parties were snarling at each other eventually reached Ieyasu’s ears. Thereupon, Ieyasu promptly handed down his judgment: “Yukimura speaks reason—Masazumi is in error,” permitting Yukimura to demolish it with his own hands as he saw fit. At this juncture, Ieyasu may have been attempting to demonstrate great magnanimity in full measure, striving to win Yukimura’s allegiance to the East until the very end. Yet Yukimura, utterly indifferent, used his own laborers to erase even the terrain without a trace, leaving no remnants of the secret techniques imparted by Masayuki.

Battle of Tennōji-guchi

When the Genna era began, the East-West peace treaty had already been broken, and word spread that the Kantō army swiftly reached Fushimi.

On May 5th, battle had already begun at the Dōmyōji Tamate front, and even to the Prince’s position where Yukimura had stationed his forces, the war cries and gunfire reverberated. In the morning, Yukimura’s scouts galloped back and reported thirty to forty banners with twenty or thirty thousand troops crossing over from Kokufu Pass toward their position. This was Date Masamune’s army. Yet Yukimura calmly leaned against the shōji and simply said, “Let them come from the left.” In the afternoon, scouts returned again and reported forces distinct from the morning’s—bearing altered banner colors—with some twenty thousand troops descending through Tatsuta Pass. This was Matsudaira Tadateru’s army. Yukimura had been feigning sleep but opened his eyes. “Good, good. Let them cross all they like,” he said. “Nothing would please me more than gathering them all in one place and cutting them down!” he declared.

Toward the enemy forces, he displayed the composure of a strategist who had already formulated a solid plan.

Now, after the evening meal had concluded, Sanada Yukimura calmly declared, “This position is ill-suited for battle. Let us draw the enemy closer,” and solemnly deployed his force of over fifteen thousand troops. That night, they encamped at the Dōmyōji front.

At dawn on the sixth day, when Yukimura’s forces reached the vicinity of Nomura, Watanabe Kuranosuke Tadamatsu had already engaged Mizuno Katsunari in battle. In the fierce combat, Tadamatsu had suffered a grievous wound. Upon realizing Yukimura’s army had arrived, he sent a messenger: “Having sustained injuries in this recent clash, I can no longer continue fighting. Therefore, lest my presence hinder your mobilization, I have withdrawn my troops to the flank. We now hold position there, feigning an assault on the enemy’s side. Might this strategy prove of some service to you?”

Yukimura, delighted, said, “Your efforts have left me wide-eyed. We shall take charge of the enemy from here,” and advanced his forces.

Mizuno Katsunari’s army was a combined force of Date Masamune, Matsudaira Tadateru, and others. Hearing that Yukimura had finally appeared, Masamune’s soldiers attacked all at once.

To describe the terrain at Nomura: the front and rear formed hills, with a low-lying area spanning about ten chō between them, connected to rice fields on both sides. Just as Yukimura’s troops had pushed halfway up the hill, Masamune’s eight hundred mounted guns fired all at once. This mounted gun corps was Masamune’s pride and joy. Sendai was renowned as a land of famed steeds. Upon these fleet-footed horses, they mounted the robust second and third sons of Date retainers, ordering them to attempt simultaneous mounted shooting. It was a savage tactic characteristic of Eastern warriors: charging through the gunpowder smoke into disrupted enemy lines and trampling them underhoof.

Under this fierce assault, even Yukimura’s seasoned soldiers were wounded by bullets, and a considerable number perished.

However, Yukimura commanded, “Endure here! If you retreat even a step, you will be utterly annihilated!” galloping to the vanguard to issue orders. The entire group used the nearby pine grove as a shield, remaining prostrated without a single one retreating. Initially fearing his soldiers would weaken under the sweltering heat, Yukimura had not made them wear helmets or carry spears. Thus when the enemy forces drew within about ten chō, he ordered through messengers: “Put on your helmets!” Furthermore when they closed to about two chō, he commanded via messengers: “Take up your spears!”

This had an extraordinary effect on the soldiers' morale. Having tightened their helmet cords right before the enemy and gripped their spears as they stood ready, the soldiers' courage surged a hundredfold. It was likely due to this that even Yukimura's troops—newly attached provisional allies—endured Date's formidable mounted guns without a single soldier retreating a step.

When the enemy’s gunfire had finally ceased and the smoke began to thin, Sanada Yukimura judged the timing right and commanded in a booming voice, “Now, charge!” At his cry, they all rose and charged, driving back Masamune’s vanguard seven to eight chō in the blink of an eye. Though Date Masamune’s vanguard included famed commanders like Katakura Kojūrō and Ishimoda Daizen—who had boldly declared, “The enemy is few! Lure them in and crush them all!”—they were effortlessly shattered by Yukimura’s whirlwind assault.

This became known to the world as Sanada Dōmyōji’s army. Even the Date forces—armed with new-model weaponry and attempting their signature Eastern-style ferocious assault—found themselves utterly outmatched by Sanada’s military stratagems.

Sanada Yukimura then gathered his soldiers and came to Mōri Katsunaga’s camp.

Then, taking Katsunaga’s hand, he said tearfully, “Today, we had vowed to charge into the Eastern Army alongside Gotō Matabei and yourself to our heart’s content, but the hour grew late and Matabei fell in battle, rendering our stratagem futile. Is this too a sign that Lord Hideyori’s fortune has run out?” On the morning of the sixth day, the fog was so thick that the break of dawn could not be discerned, causing Yukimura’s departure for battle to be delayed. If there had been no such hindrance, it is impossible to say how deeply the Eastern Army would have been cut into by Yukimura and his forces.

Katsunaga too had tears welling on his face as he praised, “And yet, your efforts today—the display of your valor in overcoming a great army—surpass even the generals of antiquity.” Yukimura’s son Daisuke, who was sixteen that year, had taken a head in close combat and fastened it to his saddle’s four corners; though bearing considerable hand wounds, he galloped there without wiping the flowing blood. Upon seeing this, Katsunaga further praised, “Alas, a father’s son indeed!” it is said. Thus, the battle of May 6th was marked throughout by the Sanada father and son’s exceptionally fierce struggle.

Sanada’s Abandoned Banners

On the dawn of May 7th, Yoshida Shūri-no-jō Mitsushige, a retainer of Echizen Shōshō Tadanaga, led over two thousand cavalry as the vanguard to the Yamato River, leveraging his thorough familiarity with the land of Kawachi. After that, the main force of the Echizen army advanced solemnly. However, as it was still dark, the Echizen forces hesitated over the river’s depth, and many lingered on the banks. Yoshida Shūri-no-jō Mitsushige declared, “Though the river is wide, it is quite shallow,” and plunged into it himself to cross first. Yukimura, having long anticipated this event, had sunk iron chains into the riverbed and waited until a large number had crossed halfway before raising them all at once. Over three hundred vanguard cavalrymen were swiftly entangled in the chains and collapsed into the river.

At that very moment, caught in the raging currents of the May rains, they were mercilessly swept away.

The one who met the most tragic fate here was Commander Yoshida Shūri-no-jō Mitsushige. He was the first to plunge in, but almost immediately, his horse’s legs were entangled in the chains, and with a thunderous crash, he fell headlong into the river. However, due to his large, corpulent frame and the armor he wore, there was nothing to be done, and by the evening of the following day, his drowned corpse surfaced near Tenmabashi.

Also, at the same hour, the vanguard of the Tennōji front—Ishikawa Izu-no-kami, Miyamoto Tango-no-kami, and over three hundred men—arrived at the southern gate of Hirano. When they looked, the gate of the encampment there was tightly shut, and there was no way to enter. They circled around to peer at the east gate, but it was the same. Inside, three or four banners bearing the Six-Coin Crest fluttered in the morning wind, neatly aligned.

“So this is Sanada’s fortified position…” “We must not act rashly.”

Moreover, with the Echizen forces showing no sign of imminent arrival due to their failure at Yamato River, Ishikawa and his men held their position at the eastern riverbank, observing the situation.

The night began to dimly brighten with the break of dawn. When they peered at the eastern gate, the interior lay profoundly silent, devoid of any human presence. Muttering “What’s going on?” among themselves as they tried to open the eastern gate for their allies, the Echizen vanguard finally surged forward with great effort.

In place of Yoshida Shūri-no-jō who had been swept away in the Yamato River came Honda Hida-no-kami, Matsudaira Iki-no-kami, and over two thousand cavalry under their command. Yet Ishikawa, Miyamoto, and their men mistook this force for a Sanada assault, triggering a horrific clash between allies. By the time Ishikawa and Miyamoto noticed the Tokugawa crests, the battle had already devolved into uncontrollable ferocity. Only when they removed their helmets and knelt upon the earth did the Echizen forces finally calm. Fearing repercussions should this blunder reach the Ōgosho, they severed thirteen foot soldiers’ heads and presented them to Ieyasu with captured Sanada banners as fabricated evidence.

Tokugawa Ieyasu was greatly pleased and praised, “For one of Sanada’s stature to abandon his banners is a most extraordinary thing,” then ordered them made into heirlooms and presented to Lord Yoshinao of Owari at his side. Lord Yoshinao held up the banner and examined it closely, but his complexion changed as he declared, “This cannot be a family heirloom.” When Ieyasu looked closely, he saw that on each banner’s corner was written “abandoned banners” in fine script. “Truly a man of military strategy,” Ieyasu is said to have praised, though this was likely a bit of face-saving.

While the attacking army dawdled under repeated crushing defeats, Yukimura deployed his forces into three units stretching from Shōman-in’s front to west of Ishi no Kahyō, raising battle standards adorned with dragon motifs. The killing intent pierced heaven itself—like black storm clouds swirling upward—such was the scene. As sunlight finally broke through and battle loomed imminent, Yukimura summoned his son Daisuke: “Return to the castle. Witness our lord’s final moments before meeting your own end.” But Daisuke stubbornly refused: “Let hereditary retainers handle that duty!” After coaxing him from his resolve—“I must see your last moments!”—he finally compelled his son back within Osaka’s walls.

Yukimura watched Daisuke’s retreating figure and said, “Though he sustained grave wounds yesterday at Homuda, his body shows no sign of weakening. With that resolve, he will not be laughed at in his final moments—this puts my heart at ease.” It is said he shed tears. People of the time likened this parting to Sakurai Station. Why did Yukimura send Daisuke back to the castle to witness Hideyori’s end? In the depths of his heart lay a father’s wish—that should Hideyori somehow be spared execution, Daisuke might yet reenter society once more. As previously written during his meeting with Hayabusa Haya[to], Yukimura had also reflected: “It pains me to kill my son without ever letting him experience anything human-like.” This very stirring of parental love serves to remind us of Yukimura’s noble character.

Yukimura’s Final Moments

Yukimura’s final battle commenced with him directly confronting the vast Echizen forces. Yukimura repeatedly harassed the Echizen forces while making his soldiers consume provisions in preparation at Ryū no Maru between Tennōji and Isshin-ji. Yukimura took a momentary breather there and, in that interval, sent Akashi Kamon-no-suke Zendō circling from Imamiya Front to Abeno to strike the Ōgosho’s main camp from behind. However, this plan was obstructed by Matsudaira Musashi-no-kami’s forces and failed to advance steadily.

Thereupon, Yukimura conferred with Mōri Katsunaga and resolved at last to formally request Lord Hideyori’s deployment to the battlefield. Lord Hideyori ordered his banners and standards advanced to Tamatsukuriguchi, intending to divide the enemy forces and allow Akashi’s army to advance toward their objective. Kosuke Anayama of the Sanada and Ippeiji Furin of the Mōri raced to the castle as urgent messengers.

The one who detected this ongoing movement of messengers was Sakakibara Hida-no-kami, the inspector of the Echizen front. Hida-no-kami reported to Lord Tadanao, “Now is the time to attack! If we delay, we will surely be pursued from behind.” Lord Tadanao promptly had his younger brothers Iyo-no-kami Tadaakira and Dewa-no-kami Naotsugu lead the left and right armies, pressing forward with over twenty thousand cavalry. However, Yukimura, intending to wait a while longer before engaging, confronted them with the defenses of his awaiting allies. Then, unexpectedly, Honda Tadamasa, Matsudaira Tadaakira, Watanabe Ōtani, and others recklessly broke through the defenses and came charging into Sanada’s camp. Moreover, Mizuno Katsunari and his men, seeking to avenge yesterday’s defeat, raised their war cries and attacked from the west of Shōman-in with approximately six hundred soldiers. Sanada Yukimura was finally beset by enemies from three directions.

Resolving that “This is the end,” he tied his helmet cord in the *masuhanagata* knot—a style used when expecting death—tightened his armor’s waistband atop his horse, swiftly donned the crimson crepe battle surcoat bestowed by Lord Hideyori, grasped his golden command baton, and charged toward the enemy. The combined forces from three directions totaled thirty-five thousand men, while the Sanada forces numbered barely over two thousand. Moreover, since the attackers’ battle performance remained unsatisfactory, Tokugawa Ieyasu agonized to such an extent that he ordered Inatomi Kizaburō, Tazuke Hyōgo, and others to lead gunners in subjecting the Sanada forces to continuous volley fire from alongside the Echizen troops.

One could only fathom the intensity of the Sanada forces’ life-and-death struggle. Yukimura, already bearing three deep wounds, was struck by bullets from these gunners between his left neck guard. As he clung to his saddle’s front rim—nearly thrown from his horse while bowing forward—Nishiō Jin’emon, a retainer of Lord Tadanao, thrust his spear into him. With a heavy thud, Yukimura fell from his horse. Nishiō took the head but did not recognize its owner. Later, when they examined the helmet—the very one Yukimura had once described to Hayabusa Haya[to]—and found two front teeth missing upon opening its mouth, they confirmed it was unmistakably Yukimura’s severed head.

Nishiō was an unresourceful man who did not take the sword back at that time, so the sword was later obtained and returned by Saitō Kanshirō of the Echizen house. Yukimura’s severed head and sword were later bestowed upon his elder brother, Izu-no-kami Nobuyuki. It is said that Nobuyuki had his second son Naiki inter the head at Kōyasan Tentei-in and took the sword himself to make it a Sanada family heirloom. In this campaign, all members of the Sanada family who had sided with the Western Army perished in battle. Yukitsuna, Yukatada, and others perished on the same battlefield as Yukimura.

His only son, Daisuke, ended his life by suicide within the castle near the time of Lord Hideyori’s demise, obeying his father’s words.