Hosokawa Gracia

The following is the script we used for the first episode of our Misohitomoji Podcast. The subject of the episode was the life and times of Hosokawa Gracia, daughter of the infamous Akechi Mitsuhide. While her name is known, details about Gracia are few. If you'd like to listen to the podcast, you can find a direct link here or you can search for us on whatever podcasting application you use. If you prefer to read, grab a bite to eat and pull up a chair, because the script is about twenty-five pages long.

 

Only by knowing when to fall

Do flowers become flowers

And people become people

散りぬべき　時知りてこそ

世の中の

花も花なれ　人も人なれ

Hosokawa Gracia walked the short road to perfection – short, but not easy. She died when she was only 37 years old. In her life, she endured burdens no one should have to bear – treachery destroyed her family, her husband was mentally and physically abusive, and she spent years in hiding for fear of death. Yet she emerged from these pressures as a diamond. I compare her to a gem, first, because her birth name, Tama, can mean stone, gem, or pearl, but second because of all the different sides or faces that composed her being, sides offering us different perspectives from which to view her life. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but no matter which of Gracia’s faces we choose to analyze, that of a samurai, a proto-feminist, a wife, a mother, or a Christian, they are all beautiful. You’d be hard-pressed to find a historical figure so universally exalted by her contemporaries and those of us who know her through books, yet at the same time someone so relatively unknown. I had to study Japanese history as part of my major in Japanese literature, and I had never heard of her. Even in her home country, she is a rather anonymous character. After encountering her poetry through my work, I decided to look into her background as a means to help me with my translation. As I read more and more about her, I quickly realized that I wanted to share her story with as many people as I could. That feeling was the inspiration behind this podcast or video series or whatever it becomes. My goal is to examine the lives of poets through the lens of their poetry. While I could have started this series with a more well-known historical personage such as Tokugawa Ieyasu or Oda Nobunaga, and I’ll probably get to doing an episode on them sooner rather than later, I wanted to start with Gracia in hopes that you’ll fall in love with her the same way that I did. Telling her story will also help set the stage for future videos, so there is practical value in beginning with her as well. If you like tales about samurai, honor, deceit, and self-discovery, then Hosokawa Gracia is for you.

Setting the stage

It’s been said, somewhat jokingly, that in studying Japanese history, you can just skip everything up to the Sengoku, or Warring States period that lasted from the end of the 15th through the 16th century. The upheaval to the social order that took place during this century or so of unending warfare set up the developments that led to Japan’s modern era. At the same time, it severed society from the social norms and conventions that dictated life for the centuries preceding it.

While the history of any country is impossible to summarize in a few minutes, some background information about what the Warring States period was and how it started will help make more sense of the events that affected Hosokawa Gracia’s life. 

Prior to the Sengoku period, Japan had transitioned away from a government where the emperor and the nobles of the imperial court ruled the country towards a military dictatorship, or bakufu, which ruled with the emperor being reduced to a puppet who gave nominal assent to the leader of the dictatorship, called the shogun. This started with the Kamakura bakufu in the 12th century, followed by the Ashikaga shogunate after a brief revival of the emperor and the short-lived Northern/Southern Court era. Eventually, the warlords of individual provinces, known as daimyo, throughout the country began exerting more control over their individual fiefdoms as a means of self-preservation. The Ashikaga shogunate grew increasingly complacent, content to use its income to support the arts and enjoy a relatively luxurious existence. Pestilence and famine throughout the country created conditions of mass starvation, increasing lawlessness, and a shortage of able-bodied workers. These conditions affected all classes in Japanese society. Individual provinces became more and more countries unto themselves, and daimyo began vying with one another for control over land and resources, while at the same time fighting off challenges to their power from local families in their domains. The Ashikaga bakufu was unwilling and unable to assert control over the provinces beyond their personal holdings in the Kinai, or present-day Kyoto area , and the country descended into anarchy. William Wayne Farris summarizes the situation in his work “Japan to 1600: A Social and Economic History,”

In 1441, a disgruntled daimyo assassinated the despotic shogun Ashikaga Yoshinori and ended the period of assertive bakufu leadership. Although the assassin was eventually caught and executed, the shogun’s army did not dispatch him, but a rival warlord coveting the assassin’s territory killed the murderer…Yoshinori’s successor died of dysentery at the age of three. The next shogun, Ashikaga Yoshimasa, was only seven when he was chosen in 1443 and was dominated by first his wet nurse and then his wife’s family. Upon reaching adulthood, he relied heavily on the advice of his fiscal and household administrator and beginning in 1454 the bakufu was wracked by a series of succession disputes among important allied daimyo families. Yoshimasa tried to settle the various claims, but political strife within the government and among these warlords only worsened. In 1465, the contention among daimyo families reached into the shogun’s household itself, where two claimants to the succession appeared. Daimyo families took sides and Yoshimasa tried to resolve the conflict, but dithered. Yoshimasa’s indecisiveness eventually resulted in several warlords sending armies to Kyoto and sustained violence erupted in the capital. This conflict, known as the Ōnin War (1467–1477), launched a period of more than one hundred years of violence in Japan. As in the case of earlier contests, the trigger was a succession dispute, but a more important problem lay beneath the surface. To be specific, most daimyo families had failed to consolidate control of their jurisdictions. They had only weak economic bases and each faced several power-hungry rival samurai known as “men of the province” (kokujin). Daimyo held little of the land in their bailiwicks exclusively, and they had trouble enticing competing “men of the province” to become their vassals. The backing of the shogunate had always been an important component in daimyo power, and once the shoguns were no longer aggressive adults, daimyo positions became ever more vulnerable. At its root, the long “war of all against all,” starting in 1467, was a struggle to create and maintain more effective control over the economies and manpower of the hundreds of local regions comprising the archipelago.

This marked the beginning of the Warring States period. Life could be a desperate struggle in such an unstable time, regardless of one’s position in society. The emperor and court nobles resorted to selling their household items and autographing poetry verses for buyers. The enthronement ceremony for emperor Go-Nara in 1536 was postponed for ten years because he simply didn’t have money to pay for it and had to resort to begging daimyo for the funds. Upon leaving the Maluku Islands of eastern Indonesia and landing in Japan in 1549, even the missionary Francis Xavier remarked plainly, “They are a poor people in general.” Yet despite the lack of material resources, Japan was on an upward trajectory compared to the previous centuries. Though famine and pestilence were still issues, the years they struck were fewer and overall fertility increased. The bloated, indolent imperial court and shogunate were ousted from power and replaced by dynamic, though cruel and despotic, warlords seeking to establish some level of stability in the country. Chief among these warlords was Oda Nobunaga. He’s one of the most fascinating characters of Japanese history and more than deserves his own episode. For now, suffice to allow Farris to casually drop his name in as a means of moving forward with our story,

By 1560, several powerful daimyo had a chance to forge ahead in the wars. Nobunaga, who has become renowned for his cruelty, happened to be the one vaulted into the cat’s bird seat. A minor warlord in 1560, he defeated a force more than ten times the size of his own as it marched through his small territory—he immediately became a major player in the wars. Geography favored Nobunaga because his base was located in mountainous central Japan within marching distance of Kyoto, but not so near that he became embroiled in the daily warfare engulfing the capital. In 1568, he entered Kyoto at the head of an army of sixty thousand. At once, he declared himself the protector of the emperor and the last Ashikaga shogun, but Nobunaga made all the decisions. Until his assassination in 1582, Nobunaga was almost constantly at war. In 1571, he had his soldiers burn Mount Hiei, destroying more than three thousand buildings and eliminating the monks of Enryakuji as a political force. In that same year, he began fighting the adherents of the militant Single-minded sect throughout Japan. In 1573, he crushed two daimyo with domains near Kyoto and chased the final Ashikaga shogun out of the capital when he uncovered a shogunal plot against him.

Gracia - family and early life

Though our introduction has been brief, the stage is adequately set for our story. Hosokawa Gracia was born Akechi Tamako in 1563, the daughter of Akechi Mitsuhide and Tsumaki Hiroko. Her parents loved each other deeply. When he was eighteen, Mitsuhide received permission to marry Hiroko. On the evening of their wedding, however, Mitsuhide unveiled his bride to discover another woman in her place. When he asked Hiroko’s father for an explanation, he informed the groom-to-be that Hiroko had been stricken with smallpox and that the disease had marred her face and body with scars, rendering her unsuitable for marriage. Mitsuhide insisted on marrying Hiroko, however, and despite the custom of the time, he never took a concubine and was faithful to her until he died. Another story describing the genuine affection husband and wife had for each other relates how Mitsuhide supported the losing faction in the battle of Nagara-gawa, resulting in the loss of the Akechi family castle. Mitsuhide’s uncle committed suicide, but forbade Mitsuhide from doing so, forcing him to flee and take on the life of a masterless samurai, or ronin. According to the story, Hiroko was pregnant at the time, and Mitsuhide carried her on his back to safety. During his time as a ronin, Mitsuhide, due to his reputation for kindness and scholastic knowledge, was tasked with hosting a gathering of fellow ronin. He confessed to Hiroko his hesitation to hold the event due to the cost. Life as a ronin wasn’t lucrative, and money was always an issue. Hiroko assured him they would find a way to make ends meet and told her husband to let her take care of arranging the gathering. On the day of the party, Mitsuhide was surprised to see a vast banquet prepared for all his guests. When he asked Hiroko where she managed to find the money for all the luxuries they were serving, she revealed to him that she had cut and sold her hair to offset the costs. 

It was to these loving parents that Tama was born. Both her parents were thoroughly educated and of almost anachronistically good character. When Tama was three years old, her father entered into the service of Oda Nobunaga, and the family fortunes turned around. At this time, Nobunaga had yet to dispense with the charade of serving the Ashikaga shogun, and was “protecting” (I use that term with the hardest air quotes possible), Ashikaga Yoshiaki in Kyoto. 

In 1569, Mitsuhide, together with a daimyo named Hosokawa Fujitaka, repelled the attacks of the Miyoshi clan, rivals of Nobunaga and the force which was responsible for the death of the previous shogun, Ashikaga Yoshiteru. Mitsuhide continued to impress, and in 1571 Nobunaga rewarded him with the estate of Sakamoto, and soon after the entire province of Tamba (around modern day Hyogo), with an income of 100,000 koku. A koku was a measure used to assess land value for the purpose of taxation. It was roughly equivalent to the amount of rice that could feed one person for one year. 

So, at eight years of age, Tama is the daughter of the daimyo of Tamba province, and her family has become wealthy beyond imagination when compared to their circumstances just five years earlier. This must have been an exciting time for the Akechi family. Mitsuhide was distinguishing himself more and more while Hiroko was trusted with raising her growing family. According to all accounts, during this time Tama was especially educated in the teachings and meditative techniques of Zen Buddhism, and especially the question-and-answer style of debate by proposition and refutation known as mondō. She would utilize the concepts and techniques she learned during this period of her childhood for the rest of her life. As a youth, she had a reputation for a precocious intellect, and she was said to be as lovely as could be. 

The future continued to look bright as Nobunaga gave his approval to the cordial relationship that had developed over the years between his vassals Mitsuhide and Hosokawa Fujitaka. He went as far as acting as the matchmaker between Hosokawa’s son, Hosokawa Tadaoki, and Mitsuhide’s beautiful daughter, Tama. The marriage would cement ties between the families, and Mitsuhide’s Tamba province would form the southern border to the province of Tango, soon to be controlled by the Hosokawa family, creating a stable, reliable northern front against the Miyoshi-controlled domain of Settsu to the south. 

Accounts of Hosokawa Tadaoki by various historians describe him as valiant, learned, and loyal. He was an accomplished warrior and later became one of tea master Sen-no-Rikyu’s seven major disciples. Both he and Tama were fifteen years old when they were married, and I suppose you could say they were somewhat of a celebrity couple. Both their stars and the stars of their families were on the rise. They were young, wealthy, part of the cultural elite and both were seemingly amiable to the marriage.  

Initially the couple lived in the newly rebuilt Shoryuji Castle in Yamashiro province, nearby Kyoto. They spent their first two years of marriage together there, from 1578-1580. A year after their marriage, in 1579, they had their first child, a daughter named Ochō. A year after that they celebrated the birth of a son, Tadataka. The family fortune improved further when Nobunaga declared the 17 year-old Tadaoki daimyo of Tango province. The young family moved to Tanabe castle in Tango and took up their lives there, now lords of their small realm. 

Maybe it was a case of too much, too soon. Tama had never really known the hard years of living her father had endured as a ronin. Her childhood memories would have been of an ascendant family, well-off in material comforts. In many cases she was probably the most attractive and intelligent person in the room. She was known to be stubborn and headstrong, and later incidents from her life that we’ll discuss reveal she could be arrogant. We’ve all probably known one or two young people whose family status and good looks went to their heads. Perhaps as a counter to these personality traits, she was also said to have been subject to deep bouts of melancholy. It wouldn’t be unfair to suggest that despite all the blessings life had presented to her, she was unsatisfied in some fundamental way. Though her father-in-law had built a zen monastery for his family where she was allowed to engage in spiritual practice, in light of the later events, you get the sense that she was unfulfilled by the life she was leading.

On the other hand, despite his positive characteristics, Tadaoki could be violent, controlling, and jealous. He came from an old, well-established family that was partly responsible for the Ashikaga clan coming to power as the rulers of Japan. The Hosokawa family has been so entrenched in Japanese history that it continues to this day. The Japanese prime minister from 1993-1994, Hosokawa Morihiro, is a descendant of Tama and Tadaoki’s line. Tadaoki would have been raised in an atmosphere of privilege and entitlement, and even in the chauvinistic society that was 16th century Japan, his treatment of women, as we’ll come to see, was inexcusable. Domestic quarrels took place between the short-tempered young daimyo and his equally fierce wife. While these quarrels would definitely become violent later in their marriage, it wouldn’t be surprising if physical abuse was already taking place this early into their relationship. Yet this turbulence was only a foreshock to the earth-shattering upheaval that was to come.

Turning Point

A lot is unclear about the events that led up to the morning of June 21st, 1582. What we do know is that before dawn Akechi Mitsuhide led samurai under his command to attack Oda Nobunaga who was staying as a guest at Honnoji Temple in Kyoto. The attack was a surprise and Nobunaga only had a handful of guards protecting him so deep into his territory. The Jesuit priest Johannes Laures describes the incident in his book Two Christian Heroes:

…Nobunaga had for years slighted Akechi and greatly wounded his sense of honor. The estrangement between the two men began already in 1579. Nobunaga was a very haughty man who treated even feudal lords like slaves. It seems that he took special delight in teasing and insulting Akechi, all the more as the latter never showed the slightest sign of anger or resentment. Thus Nobunaga's slights went from bad to worse until his victim took fearful revenge. The almost incredible thing is that Nobunaga unwittingly gave Akechi a most welcome chance to destroy him. In the spring of 1582 Nobunaga had charged Akechi to prepare a great banquet in honor of Tokugawa Ieyasu and other lords who had given him help against Takeda Katsuyori. Akechi spared no effort to make the banquet as splendid as possible. He sent his servants to Kyôto, Sakai and Nara to borrow the most valuable pieces of China for the tea ceremony from famous temples and wealthy individuals and succeeded in collecting an astonishing quantity of them. When the noble guests began to arrive, a very urgent call for immediate help came from Hideyoshi, who had laid siege to Takamatsu, a strong fortress of the mighty Mori Terumoto, in the province of Bitchû. Nobunaga at once relieved Akechi of his office as master of the feast and charged him to rush help to Hideyoshi. Akechi was furious because of this new affront but, at the same time, realized that Nobunaga had thereby given him an excellent chance. He had received orders to lead a powerful army to Takamatsu, and so he could get ready for a decisive blow against his persecutor without arousing the least suspicion. He at once hurried to Sakamoto Castle, called his samurai to the colors and then proceeded to Kameyama to further strengthen his contingent. He made preparations for battle, but only very few of his men knew exactly against whom they were to fight. Nearly two weeks elapsed before Akechi moved his army. Meanwhile he had made sure when Nobunaga would proceed to Kyôto to celebrate the anticipated victory over the Mori clan. When Nobunaga had actually arrived in Kyôto and lodged himself in the Honnôji Buddhist temple Akechi left Kameyama and marched towards Kyôto telling his soldiers that the enemy was in Honnôji. About four o'clock in the morning he attacked Honnôji. Nobunaga, who had not even the slightest idea of Akechi's plans, was washing his face when the soldiers invaded his quarters. Hit by an arrow in his side he pulled it out, seized a halberd and began to fight like a lion for his life, but was soon wounded by a bullet in the arm and retired to his room. Simultaneously fire was set to the temple and Nobunaga perished in the flames if he did not take his life by seppuku. Thus died the great Nobunaga as the victim of the man whom he had treated so ignominiously.

Though Laures speculates regarding Mitsuhide’s motivation behind killing Nobunaga, many theories have developed through the centuries ranging from opportunism to Mitsuhide fearing that Nobunaga would lower his status as he had often capriciously done to other subordinates over the years. Personally, I look back to the depictions of Mitsuhide’s character and something doesn’t sit right with me. I get the feeling we don’t have the whole story and probably never will. The poem he left as his final words reads,

心知らぬ　人はなんとも　言わば言え　身をも惜しまじ　名をも惜しまじ

Kokoroshiranu hitowanantomo iwabaie miwomooshimaji nawomooshimaji

Meaning something like, “Let strangers to my beliefs say what they will, truth to oneself leaves no room for life or honor”

Maybe I’m naive, but I’d like to think that, taking into account the era in which he lived, Akechi Mitsuhide was a good person, and if not, at least he was a man who lived according to principles. He would have been intimately familiar with Nobunaga after serving him in a close capacity for over fifteen years. He might have felt that Nobunaga’s ambition propelled him to commit unforgivable atrocities, or that Nobunaga was a perverse character who should not be allowed to rule the country. If we take his final words at face value, Mitsuhide tells us three things: he knew people would speculate about his motives, he didn’t care what they would say, and that he was doing what he thought was right.

The aftermath was tragic for the Akechi family. Toyotomi Hideyoshi, the general who Nobunaga had originally ordered Mitsuhide to aid, promptly called for peace with the Mori clan in order to return to Kyoto to avenge Nobunaga. Mitsuhide sought aid from the Hosokawa family and other former vassals of the Oda family to support him as the new leader of Nobunaga’s coalition. Tadaoki’s family flatly refused to help him and threw their support behind Hideyoshi. While accounts differ in their details, Mitsuhide was killed within two weeks after escaping from the Battle of Yamazaki and, after years of infighting, Hideyoshi succeeded Nobunaga as the most powerful man in Japan. 

Various historians give slightly different timelines for the events involving Tama at this time. Laures says that the Hosokawa family wanted to distance themselves from their daughter-in-law, but killing her would be unjust, so they sent her into hiding so as not to be viewed by Hideyoshi as sharing any of the guilt the Akechi family carried for Nobunaga’s death. In Women Religious Leaders in Japan’s Christian Century, Haruko Nawata Ward states that Tadaoki immediately divorced Tama and she was sent into hiding rather than be turned over to the authorities. Laures gives a more concrete chronology, with Tama going into hiding before her father’s death, and his account seems to imply that Tadaoki wanted to protect her. Though this may be inaccurate, it seems to make more sense than Ward’s idea that the Hosokawa both wanted to immediately cut ties with her, but also were willing to take the risk of facilitating her escape from Hideyoshi’s wrath. Either way, Tama escaped to a remote village called Midono in the mountains and hills of northern Kyoto. Her brother and Hiroko, her mother, were executed as being part of a traitor’s family. Further, the death of her father, Mitsuhide, reached her in Midono on July 4th, shortly after her arrival. 

End of freedom

Though she was only 18 or 19 years old at the time she went into hiding, Tama would never again enjoy the freedom to travel or go where she wished for the remainder of her life. She spent the next two years in Midono, under guard, while Toyotomi Hideyoshi fought with Nobunaga’s other generals for control of Japan. Evidence suggests that she dwelt in a fortification on a hilltop clearing in the mountains, about 20 by 20 meters in area, while her guards were stationed nearby. Midono has never been a large settlement, and by a census in the year 2000, only 7 people were said to live there. At the time, though, apparently mountain ascetics frequently passed through the area, and so there was some kind of village infrastructure for lodging travelers.

Tama would have been in a desperate mental state. She had to leave her husband and children behind, both of her parents and her brother were dead, and she was now known as the daughter of Japan’s most notorious traitor. She went from being the lady of her own province, hosting parties and mixing in the highest of social circles to having her only human contact be with the ladies-in-waiting that accompanied her to Midono. At one point during the two years, a guard suggested she kill herself, as it was the respectable thing to do to follow her other family members’ own deaths. She replied she would like to do so, but she hadn’t received any word of permission from Tadaoki, who was her husband and her legal lord. Whether she lived or died was up to the whim of Toyotomi Hideyoshi, who knew she was hiding in the Midono area. If it weren’t for the zeal with which the Hosokawa family helped Hideyoshi in his fight against his former allies, Tama could well have been executed. 

I think when we talk about people’s lives in the context of historical discussion, we tend to concentrate on events, what happened, rather than empathy, how events must have affected the participants. Events are more like hard facts that we can objectively attest to having taken place, while empathy is more nebulous and difficult to attribute to the figures in question unless we have their firsthand reactions in the form of journals or letters. I want to pause here for a moment, though, and try to empathize with Tama. In our world where we’re jonesing for a dopamine hit after an hour or two away from our cellphones, it’s hard for us to put ourselves in her position. From my own experience, when I was in my 20s, I trained at a zen temple where, to show my commitment to entering, I spent the first two days doing nothing but bowing with my head touching the floor, waiting. I then spent 3 days in a room staring at a wall, meditating. I had never experienced anything like it and tried to give up midway before some helpful advice got me through. But to just sit there with nothing to do is more difficult than you would imagine. What could Tama have done to pass the time for two years? She wouldn’t have met new people, she couldn’t send or receive letters from friends or family. Any day she could have been suddenly notified that she was to be executed. At least on death row you know you’re going to die at some point. In my case, I knew after five days I’d be finished with my waiting. For her, though, the waiting combined with the not knowing when it would end must have been unbearable. Ochō, her daughter, was only three years old, and Tadataka, her son, only two. I have two children of my own, 6 and 4 years old. I can’t imagine being separated from them and not knowing when I could see them again. Her standard of living would have taken a considerable hit, and life must have been uncomfortable. Midono averages about 2 meters, or 80 inches, of snow a year. That’s about the same annual snowfall as Anchorage, Alaska. She was in prison, and her only crime was being the daughter of Akechi Mitsuhide. Experiences like that, when you’re so young, change you. I alluded earlier to a feeling Tama had of dissatisfaction with life. Despite all the money, status, and even familial happiness she had, she was often unhappy. The years she spent in Midono would certainly have given her ample opportunity to reflect on life and her place in the world. Whether she arrived at some understanding of her circumstances that brought her peace, no one can know. But it does seem that her isolation primed her for a future spiritual awakening

To Osaka

Finally, in 1584 or 1585, Toyotomi Hideyoshi, as a reward for the faithful service of the Hosokawa family, suggested to Tadaoki that he recall Tama to live together as husband and wife again. At the same time, Hideyoshi issued an edict to all daimyo that they were to build residences in Osaka where they and their families would dwell. Combined with a sword hunt in 1588, keeping his vassals and their families as virtual hostages residing near his base of power was clearly Hideyoshi’s move to bring the country to heel. Tadaoki followed the order and built a mansion at Tamatsukuri near the center of Osaka. There is one apocryphal story about Tama’s return from Midono. Hideyoshi was a well-known lecher in his day, and he reportedly allowed Tadaoki to recall Tama from exile under the condition that she meet with Hideyoshi once so that he could see if she was as beautiful as her reputation claimed. Tadaoki was in no position to refuse, so the meeting was arranged. When Tama came to make her formal greeting to Hideyoshi, she bowed low and a knife concealed between her breasts fell onto the floor in front of her. Without comment, she cooly picked it up and returned it to its hiding place. The rest of the meeting went by uneventfully, Tama having clearly set the boundaries of the interaction. 

Living in Osaka granted Tama a return to something resembling the life she had led prior to her two years in Midono. She reunited with her children, which had to have brought her joy. In 1585, she had her second son, Okiaki, so she was in the full swing of motherhood. However, as the song goes, every silver lining has a touch of grey. In moving from Midono to Osaka, she had traded her rough, rustic cage for one made of gold. For whatever reason, whether it be his overly-jealous personality or a fear that Tama being Akechi Mitsuhide’s daughter would create unforeseen complications in social interactions, Tadaoki forbid his wife from leaving their home. With the exception of a single day, Tama remained in the Tamatsukuri mansion until the day she died. Women from the nobility’s freedom of movement certainly had restrictions – just as Hideyoshi’s edict for all daimyo to erect residences in Osaka put restrictions on men as well. Even by these standards, Tadaoki’s treatment of his wife was harsh. You can imagine the inner conflict that Tama must have experienced. She was born and raised in an elite family, educated in the social values of her day which she seems to have fully embraced. Recall her unwillingness to commit suicide during her time in hiding because she hadn’t received permission to Tadaoki to do so. Yet she was also prideful, intelligent, and in some respects, her father’s daughter. No matter how deeply the expectations of society had been inculcated in her character, the fire of a strong will was still smoldering inside her despite how much she had been beaten down physically and mentally. 

As I mentioned before, Tama was an accomplished Zen practitioner and well-versed in Buddhist doctrine. However, as Nawata Ward alludes to, the metaphysical ambiguity surrounding questions that Tama, and other women of her day, had left her wondering. Could she find salvation as a woman in this world? Buddhism at the time in Japan was overtly misogynistic in several aspects, one being the idea that women were spiritually incapable of escaping the suffering of samsara, and would have to be reborn as men first to do so. As egalitarian as teachings from sects such as the Jodoshu, Jodoshinshu, Nichirenshu, or even some schools of zen are, their application at the time was often shaded by cultural, and not religious, principles. Were women supposed to just accept that their karma dictated their birth as supposedly inferior beings in the spiritual and temporal realms, and put up with whatever hardships they faced? Whatever answers to these worries that were available in Buddhism did not assuage Tama’s anxiety, but by chance, a simple dinner conversation with her husband would fan the embers of her potential into a fire.

Salvation

Tadaoki, as one of the main disciples of tea master Sen-no-Rikyu, rubbed elbows with the elite of the elite. As fortune would have it, another of Rikyu’s disciples was the daimyo Takayama Ukon. Ukon was a Christian who deserves an episode entirely to himself. His life really needs its own examination, so I can’t do it justice here. What’s important to Tama’s tale is that Ukon was open and passionate about his beliefs as a Christian, and had many chances to discuss Christianity with Tadaoki, who would then return home and tell his wife about the day he led. She listened to the Gospel for the first time, enraptured with her husband’s tales. The teachings of Christ and the church gave her a context in which she could understand her suffering, not as fate from previous karma, but as a way to cleanse her soul, remove her arrogance, and bring her closer to her Maker. Ironically enough, Ukon was one of the generals leading troops against her father at the Battle of Yamazaki, the skirmish in which Mitsuhide engaged after killing Nobunaga. Regardless of the messenger, Tama listened with full attention to her husband’s descriptions of his conversations with Ukon after each meeting they had. I imagine she had questions she funneled through Tadaoki, who seemed to find the doctrines of Christianity agreeable. 

Before long, hearing the teachings by proxy proved inadequate. Tama desired to go to church and hear the message of Christ herself. During the year of 1586, she bided her time, giving birth to a third son, Tadatoshi. This year was also when Toyotomi Hideyoshi met with Father Gaspar Coelho, Vice-provincial head of the Jesuits, showing him great respect. Though temperamental, Hideyoshi joked that he would have become a Christian if it weren’t for the moral restrictions married life placed on members of the church. In 1587, Tadaoki left with Hideyoshi for his campaign to bring Kyushu under his control. Christianity was widespread in Kyushu at this time, with daimyo there such as Omura Sumitada being the first in Japan to become Catholics. During a battle at Yatsushiro fortress, in modern-day Kumamoto, Hideyoshi’s besieged enemies, fearing execution or mistreatment if they surrendered, called on Father Coelho to intervene on their behalf. Hideyoshi spared their lives. Coelho would again encounter Hideyoshi in Hakata near the end of the Kyushu campaign, again, under cordial circumstances. At some point during this meeting, Coelho mentioned to Hideyoshi that he could arrange for the Portuguese to send ships to help Hideyoshi’s planned invasion of Korea, and also by gathering support among Christian daimyo for the war effort. This, perhaps, stoked Hideyoshi’s fear of the influence and power that Christianity was beginning to build in Japan. 

While the Kyushu campaign provided Hideyoshi opportunities to interact with the Christian lords of that island, it also provided Tama the chance to fulfill her wish of visiting Osaka church in person. On Easter Sunday, March 29th Tama, her lady-in-waiting Kojiju, and several other servants snuck out under the guise of some of Tama’s ladies going to the temple to celebrate Higan, or the Vernal Equinox. They fooled the guards who were under orders not to let Tama leave, and made their way to the church. The preacher that day Takai Cosme, a Japanese Jesuit, was out, so Father Gregorio Cespedes, through Kojiju, explained to Tama the Gospel through the many images throughout the church. She was particularly impressed by an image of Christ as Salvator mundi on the altar. They waited with other women until Brother Cosme returned and gave his sermon.

Tama’s character and intellect were finally released upon the object they were designed for. This was an Eastern sermon, not really the time or place for a debate – and she interrupted Brother Cosme repeatedly, refuting doctrines such as the immortality of the soul, citing numerous authorities from Buddhist sutras to their commentaries. Pause for a moment and imagine that scene. I’m guessing Father Cosme wasn’t expecting to have an argument during Easter mass, yet there Tama was, hectoring him. She might as well have yelled at him to play Free Bird. In reality, she wanted to hear the answers to any doubts she had had about a message that, until that point, probably seemed too good to be true to her. Apparently the answers Cosme gave were sufficient, and she requested to be baptized that day. However, she was unwilling to give her name due to the clandestine nature of her venture out of her home. Father Cespedes, not wanting to unwittingly baptize one of Hideyoshi’s concubines, refused her request. As the day was drawing to a close, she asked for any books that they might lend her, but again, this request was denied. Father Cespedes sent a servant to follow the ladies home and there he determined that she was Hosokawa Tama. Brother Cosme wrote of the experience that day, “in my eleven years [of ministry], up to now, I have never disputed with a woman in Japan of such a clear judgment and such definite knowledge of all the sects.”

A monster unleashed

Luis Frois, Portuguese missionary and a friend of Oda Nobunaga, in correspondence recalled the words of the disciples at the zen monastery that Tama’s father-in-law, Hosokawa Fujitaka, had built. Remember that he and his family would regularly visit the monastery during the days that Tadaoki and Tama lived in Tanabe Castle of Tango province. The monks there said of her, “the daughter-in-law superseded and excelled everyone; for she was a monster in delicate matters of ingenuities and natural knowledge in such a manner that she could already be a mistress of her master.” She wasn’t referred to a monster because of a hideous appearance – she was as beautiful a woman as there was in Japan. She was called a monster because of the misogyny of her day that found it unnatural for a woman to possess what would essentially be considered a man’s brain - her intellect surpassed that of the men around her. After her experience at Osaka church, Tama put that intellect to full effect. 

She began by sending her chief lady-in-waiting, Ito Kiyohara, back to the church the next day with a letter of thanks and a further request for any spiritual works they could spare. She sent Ito to church every Sunday so that she could come back and relay the sermon to the women of the house. Eventually Ito decided to be baptized, and took the name Maria. This would set a trend in which 16 servants under Tama’s call were baptized, as well as one of her guards and his wife, along with her wet nurse. Tama received Japanese and Portuguese writings from the Jesuits, including Contemptus mundi, known in English as The Imitation of Christ, which she particularly enjoyed. After receiving writings, she would consume them and send her ladies back to the fathers with her questions regarding subtle nuances of doctrine. In the surviving letters of correspondence between the European reformers Ignatius of Loyola and John Calvin and their female followers, none of them contain the discussion of theology to the nuanced level of those between Tama and the Jesuits in Osaka. She received books in both Portuguese and Latin by which she taught herself both languages and translated into Japanese. With these translations, a reading circle was born. She started her own Sunday school in which she taught her ladies in waiting and servants. She provided charity for the poor and gave gifts to the church. The Jesuit fathers remarked that she continued these activities until her death. Monstrous, indeed.

In June of that year, Toyotomi Hideyoshi, in a surprising about face considering his previous relationship with Christian daimyo and the Jesuit fathers in Japan, issued edicts called “Limitation on the Propagation of Christianity,” and  “Expulsion of Missionaries” stating that all missionaries were to leave the country within 20 days. Reasons for the sudden turnabout were numerous, but one can only speculate why he ultimately decided to do so. It’s a deep subject - was he always just playing politics and needed to keep Christian daimyos on his side, such as Otomo Sorin and Omura Sumitada? Otomo died on June 11th, and Omura on the 23rd. Had his anti-Christian physician, Seyakuin Zensō, convinced him not to trust Christians? Was he self-conscious of his moral failings in light of Christian teachings regarding violence and especially chastity? 

Tama contacted Father Organtino, a priest at Osaka church, wishing to be baptized before the missionaries were expelled. Her plan was to be smuggled in a basket to the church. The fathers cautioned her against this plan, stating that if she were discovered it would have made the persecutions against Christians even more severe. Instead, they taught Ito Maria the baptismal formula, and Tama, at last, realized her wish to be baptized. She took the name “Garasha,” the Japanese pronunciation of the Portuguese “Gracia,” or “Grace.” Frois remarked that while Hosokawa Tama was temperamental and full of pride, Hosokawa Gracia was patient and free from the depression that she suffered from for so long. 

Her patience would soon be tested, because soon after Hideyoshi issued his edicts, Tadaoki returned from Kyushu. Wishing to distance himself from the image he had of being favorable to Christians, he went so far as cutting the ears and nose off of one of his female servants after she made a relatively minor mistake. He also cut the hair from two other Christian women in his house and expelled the three of them from his residence. Gracia secretly sent them material aid.

In the fall of that year, Christian missionaries in the area fled to Hirado, nearby modern-day Nagasaki, then ruled by Omura Yoshiaki, who was, at the time, still a Christian, but would later become an apostate. The exceptions were Father Organtino, Brother Cosme, and a Jesuit called Leo the catechist, who hid on the Island of Shodoshima, part of Sanuki province, now known as Kagawa. Hideyoshi, after his issuing of the edicts, was at least reasonable enough to understand that transportation for all the missionaries in Japan would take more than 20 days to arrange, and the edicts weren’t actually enforced. Still, there must have been a general atmosphere of unease for Christians, as on December 7th Gracia wrote a letter to Father Cespedes stating her wish to become a martyr if given the opportunity. I believe the words were something along the lines of she and her fellow Christian women living with her, would run, barefoot, in their pajamas to wherever the crucifixes were being set up. She also told Father Cespedes that she had baptized her second son Okiaki, still only two years old. He had been seriously ill, and fearing he would die, she performed the rite, after which he swiftly recovered. 

At some point, enough had become enough for Gracia. She wrote to Father Organtino about her wish to flee from her house. Her lack of freedom, her abusive husband, it was too much. Father Organtino, however, advised her against doing this, as it could lead to further Christian persecution. According to Frois’ writings, the fact that abuse was taking place between Tadaoki and Gracia was known to the Jesuits. Despite this, the fathers that Gracia depended on for guidance chose to put the interests of the group above the individual. Perhaps they were giving what they thought was sincere pastoral advice. We can never know, but the church failed Gracia in this instance. Father Organtino traveled to Osaka to console Gracia, and it appears she could see how her actions would have affected her Christian brothers and sisters, because she relented in her desire to flee her household. 

The record of Gracia’s life is sparse for the next few years. In 1588, she gave birth to her second daughter, Tara. Finally, in 1591, the atmosphere of persecution against Christians shifted. Hideyoshi had an audience with Father Alessandro Valignano as ambassador of the viceroy of India. Several Jesuits were allowed to live and operate quietly in Kyoto, and Father Organtino even managed to convert two grandsons of Oda Nobunaga and two sons and nephews of Maeda Munehisa, Kyoto’s governor.  Hosokawa Okimoto, Tadaoki’s younger brother, became a Christian shortly after adopting Gracia’s son, Okiaki, the boy who had been baptized as a sick infant. These events must have given Gracia some comfort, because she began open appeals to her children to convert. Another major event was that she informed Tadaoki, that she was, in fact, a Christian. He casually responded that he was happy for her to join such a fine religion and built her an oratory for her prayers and meditation. Laures writes that knowing she was a Christian, Tadaoki gained respect for Gracia for having the courage to maintain her convictions despite the danger involved, and ceased, in his words ‘molesting’ her. I can only assume he meant physical abuse because they would still have another child several years later.

Unraveling

The next years passed peacefully enough. At least, there are no more accounts of Tadaoki cutting people’s ears and noses off, though Gracia was still a prisoner in her home. We’ve now come to 1592, the year when Toyotomi Hideyoshi’s son died. Without a male heir, he adopted his nephew, Hidetsugu, giving him the title of Kampaku, or First Regent to the emperor while Hideyoshi took the title Taikō, meaning the retired Kampaku. In reality, though, these titles were just window dressing. The Toyotomi family ruled Japan. Gracia had been confined to her house for seven years at this point. She couldn’t even receive guests freely. Who she could see was also dictated by Tadaoki. 

The next year, Hideyoshi had another son, Hideyori. Preferring his own child to come to power, Hideyoshi had asked Hidetsugu to voluntarily relinquish his claim to succession as the head of the Toyotomi family. When Hidetsugu obstinately refused, Hideyoshi ordered him to travel to Mt. Koya, and later gave him orders to commit suicide. Hideyoshi then took vengeance on Hidetsugu’s family and supporters. By vengeance, I mean he had them all murdered. Tadaoki’s position was uncertain – did he support Hideyoshi fully, or were there suspicions that he was sympathetic to Hidetsugu? In a grim declaration for his wishes after his death, he demanded that Gracia kill herself too, as was custom, if he was forced to kill himself. As someone who had taught church doctrine for years, she must have known that suicide is considered a grave sin by Catholics. She contacted Father Organtino for confession and direction by which he confirmed to her the Catholic prohibition on suicide. 

Around this time, Franciscan missions from Spain began arriving in Japan, proselytizing more widely than the Jesuits, and possibly raising the ire of Hideyoshi. While the edicts he had issued years prior were still technically in effect, a somewhat implicit understanding had developed between the Jesuits and Japan’s ruler. He would turn a blind eye to their activities provided they didn’t disrupt the status quo and remained discreet in their activities. 

In 1595, Grace’ daughter Tara gladly became a Christian at her mother’s urging, and her sister, Ochō, followed her in converting in 1596, though under quite different circumstances. 

On October 19, 1596, the Spanish ship, San Felipe, was shipwrecked along the coast of Shikoku along with a million and a half silver pesos that it was carrying. Standard practice at the time would have made the cargo hauled out of the sea the property of the daimyo whose territory the ship was in. Hideyoshi could certainly have used the money, with his wars in Korea and several earthquakes in the Kyoto region having recently decimated his treasury. The Spanish Franciscans, however, still maintained the cargo was theirs and decided to petition Hideyoshi themselves to get it back. The details of the case depend on whether you believe the Spanish Franciscan account or the Portuguese Jesuit account, but what can be factually agreed upon was that daimyo Mashita Nagamori was chosen by the Franciscans to present their case to Hideyoshi over the suggestions that either the Jesuits or another pro-Christian representative do so. In speaking to the Franciscans, Mashita was shocked by the words of the San Felipe’s Pilot Major Francisco de Olandia, who boasted to him of Spain’s military might and that missionaries coming to a new land first to make the population sympathetic before Spanish conquistadores show up was standard. This practice was explained to Hideyoshi, who reacted with fury, prompting the rounding up of 26 Christians (who were supposed to be Franciscans, yet 4 Jesuits were accidentally included), to be executed. While Hideyoshi had probably tolerated the Jesuit activity as a necessary part of doing business with foreign powers, the Spanish pilot’s insinuation that the conversion of Japanese to Christians was a first front of a larger plan of military conquest was beyond the pale. 

News of the 26 martyrs quickly reached the ears of all Christians in Japan. Gracia and her circle of converts discussed whether or not it was the time for their own martyrdom. Their anticipation must have been impossible to conceal. Ochō, who had until then rebuffed her mother’s efforts to bring her to become baptized, had a dream in which Gracia and Tara both were making their way to the place where Christians were being crucified. The two of them would not let Ochō follow, because they said martyrdom was a gift only Christians were allowed to experience. She woke up from the dream, shaken, and asked her mother for baptism. More Catholics would be martyred, the greatest single event taking place on September 10th, 1632, where 55 Catholics were killed. Far from a local event, the first 26 martyrs were canonized as saints in the Catholic church, and their feast day is February 6th. Anglicans, Episcopalians and some Lutherans also have special services for these martyrs. They also have a church in Italy called The Church of the Holy Japanese Martyrs.

Falling flowers

In 1598, Gracia’s third daughter, and final child, Oman was born. There was little time for peace or celebration in the Hosokawa house, however. The tenuous balance Japan had hung in was removed on September 16th, when Toyotomi Hideyoshi died. His son, Hideyori, was only five years old at the time, too young to rule. Hideyoshi had most likely wanted to avoid a situation where a single family would come to dominate the country by using Hideyori as a pawn much in the way that the shogun had ruled Japan in the emperor’s name. Before his death, he created a system whereby the country would be controlled by a group of daimyo called the Council of Five Elders. They were to rule according to principles laid out in a document they all agreed to follow until Hideyori was old enough to rule himself. There were also Five Commissioners who were to govern the day-to-day running of the country. To explain the interplay and intrigue between the members of these two councils, each member’s relationship to Hideyoshi and their personal ambitions would take a while and is beyond the scope of Gracia’s story. Eventually, though, factions within the ruling elite formed. On one side was Tokugawa Ieyasu, perhaps the single-most powerful daimyo in the country and the head of the Council of Elders. On the other side were the anti-Tokugawa allies. While tensions were high, the calming presence of Maeda Toshiie, daimyo of Kaga and Etchū provinces, as the second highest-ranking elder behind Ieyasu, managed to keep things from boiling over. On April 27th, however, Toshiie died, and the council lost its most diplomatic statesman. 

After this, Uesugi Kagekatsu, daimyo of the vast Echigo province, started construction of a castle in Aizuwakamatsu despite the city already having a large castle. The settlement among the Council of Elders after Hideyoshi’s passing was that ownership of land was not to change hands until after Hideyori had come to power, essentially an armistice on warfare between daimyo to maintain the status quo. Uesugi’s actions were interpreted by Tokugawa Ieyasu as a pretext to go to war. When Tokugawa demanded Uesugi return to Fushimi Castle in Kyoto to explain himself, Uesugi’s advisor, Naoe Kanetsugu, responded with a counter-condemnation of Ieyasu for his hypocrisy. Ieyasu, angered, decided to leave Kyoto and march on Uesugi, fortified in Echigo, near modern-day Fukushima – quite a long journey. Tadaoki, now a supporter of Ieyasu, left with him to wage war.

In a brazen move, Ishida Mitsunari, one of the five commissioners and leader of the anti-Tokugawa faction, used Ieyasu’s absence from the area as an opportunity to gather his forces and seize Osaka and Fushimi Castles. Because many daimyo and samurai of note had their family staying in estates in Osaka as hostages, Ishida thought that he could weaken Ieyasu’s support by seizing the wives and children of pro-Tokugawa daimyo, causing them to switch to his side. Ishida’s forces went to various estates in Osaka, rounding up hostages and taking them to Osaka castle. Eventually, the kidnappers made their way to the Hosokawa mansion in Tamatsukuri. Tadaoki had a reputation as an honorable samurai and skilled warrior. If he was to defect from Ieyasu to Ishida’s side, it would be a significant swing in the balance of power and bolster Ishida’s reputation.

On August 25th, 1600 they came looking for Gracia. Before leaving with Ieyasu to war on Uesugi, Tadaoki had told his retainer, Ogasawara Shōsai, to kill his wife if her honor was called into question by events while he was gone. Gracia’s fate was sealed. Ishida’s men threatened to take her by force if Ogasawara would not let her go. Ogasawara explained his orders from Tadaoki to Gracia. Without protesting, she went to her oratory, lit candles, and prayed in preparation for her death. Laures quotes the re-telling of Gracia’s final moments by eyewitnesses as compiled by Father Valentin Carvalho, “When she had finished her prayer, she stepped away from her oratory, courageous and determined, and bade all servans and ladies who were with her to save themselves, since she alone wanted to die as her husband had ordered. The servants refused to leave and insisted on dying with her. For in Japan, it was not only custom and a point of honor in such cases to follow one’s mistress to death, but Gracia’s servants were also attached to her by such great love that they wanted to die with her. Nevertheless, she insisted on her will and all were compelled to leave. When they had gone she knelt down, invoked several times the names of Jesus and Mary and bared her neck with her own hands. Her head was cut off with one single stroke. Then the samurai covered her body with silk cloths, strewed gunpowder on it and set fire to it. Then they retired to the entrance hall, since they believed it was unbecoming for them to die in the same room as their mistress. There they disemboweled themselves and soon they themselves as well as the rich and luxurious palace were reduced to ashes. Only the ladies whom Gracia wanted to save escaped death. Weeping, they hurried to Father Organtino and told him all that happened.”

When Ishida heard of Gracia’s death, he feared a major backlash from daimyo he was looking to persuade. He ceased taking any more hostages and let free the ones he had already seized. Tadaoki became a sympathetic figure because of the sacrifice Gracia had made. A later, alleged eyewitness account called “Shimome oboegaki,” which probably translates to “Eyewitness Memoir of Shimo,” recorded in 1644 by one of Gracia’s ladies-in-waiting, confirms many details of the Jesuit’s records and adds several other details. Among them was Gracia writing her death poem, 

Only by knowing when to fall

Do flowers become flowers

And people become people

散りぬべき　時知りてこそ

世の中の

花も花なれ　人も人なれ

Aftermath

Jean Crasset, a Jesuit theologian and professor whose life spanned the 17th century wrote of Gracia’s life, “Nature had made her a miracle of beauty, and grace, a mirror of virtue. Her only misfortune was her lovableness, and her only fault the passionate love of a husband altogether unworthy of her.” Though I don’t want to speak ill of the dead, I can’t help but agree with Crasset’s assessment. While he would show some gestures indicating self-awareness and a measure of remorse for his conduct towards his wife after her death, Tadaoki was, at his core, a calculating, unprincipled politician. He always seemed to end up on the winning side of a conflict and was always ready to support or persecute whoever necessary for him to get ahead. He disowned his son Tadataka because Tadataka objected and defended his wife when Tadaoki denounced her for not killing herself along with Gracia. His other son, Okiaki, refused to go to Edo as a hostage in the place of his brother Tadatoshi, Tadaoki’s heir. This made him a ronin. Years later, he fought on the losing side against Tokugawa Ieyasu for control of Osaka castle. Though Ieyasu said he could be pardoned, Tadaoki insisted his own son should die and ordered him to commit suicide. When he refused due to his Christian beliefs, Tadaoki killed him himself. Tara and Ocho seemed to have lived the rest of their lives true to their mother’s faith. Tadatoshi grew up to become daimyo of Higo, and despite initial leniency to Christians surpassing his father’s, he eventually joined the national persecution according to Ieyasu’s wishes.

Nawata Ward points out that all of Gracia’s children seemed to have had a close relationship with her and were mostly estranged from Tadaoki. This isn’t surprising given they grew up in such an atmosphere of abuse, where the outside world of politics didn’t have any place in their minds when they were undoubtedly witnesses to their mother’s treatment. At every opportunity to demonstrate compassion or understanding for his wife and children, Tadaoki chose instead to turn inward, favoring his own interests above any others. His life had no character arc - he was born a privileged, rich boy and died a selfish, rich man. He didn’t deserve Gracia, and he doesn’t deserve to be remembered kindly by history. 

Gracia, on the other hand…my mind keeps returning to a singular thought as I try and wrap this up – how did I not know about her before? How many other Gracias are there in history? How many are there right now, today? Though she hasn’t been beaitifed, unlike her contemporary Takayama Ukon, to me, Gracia represents the unknown holy people, the nameless saints of the world. When you see where she began life, with all the comforts and blessings one could wish for, yet restless, unsatisfied, and melancholy, and you compare that to where she ended life – imprisoned, yet those who knew her said she was calm, peaceful, happy, and contrast that with her husband Tadaoki and his life, I can’t help but think that in her death poem there is more than a bit of Matthew’s Gospel in it when Jesus says, “Whoever finds their life shall lose it, and whoever loses their life for my sake will find it.” When flowers and people are accepting of their finite lives, aware of their true nature, that is when they truly become themselves. Tadaoki might have found life, clinging to it as opportunistically as he did at every turn, but he was dead inside. Gracia, though, reached the point where she was ready to give up her life, running barefoot to meet her maker, and that was when she finally became truly alive.

And that is the story of Hosokawa Gracia. I hope you liked it. If you want to check out more of our content, you can find us on Instagram, or visit our website at misohitomoji.com. That’s m-i-s-o-h… I hope to have another episode out in a month where I’ll be discussing a…royal…poet from another time period. Until then, make some time for yourself to read some poetry. Thanks!