In the silent watches of a winter’s night when the silver moon flooded all the land with quiet beauty, Katsuno rose from her bed and with a dagger put an end to her life,—in the flower of her womanhood, at the age of twenty-two!
Katsuno left behind her four long letters addressed respectively to Iyeyasu, her husband, Katsutaka, Lady Saitō, and her former lord, Oda Nobuyuki, giving the reason for her rash act, and repeatedly thanking them for all their kindness.
[2] Lines by Hakkyoi, a great poet of ancient China.
[3] On the occasion of Buddhist funeral ceremonies, and at religious ceremonies held on the anniversary of a death, it is a common custom to set at freedom caged birds for the peace of the spirit of the deceased.
A WEDDING PRESENT
“LET go! Let go, can’t you!” shouted a young horseman furiously, as he raised himself up in his stirrups and angrily brandished a whip.
It was the ninth day of April in the twelfth year of Tensho (1584). The battle of Komaki Hill, one of the five greatest battles in Japanese history had just been fought, and intelligence had reached the camp that Lord Ikeda Nobuteru of the Castle of Ōgaki in the province of Mino and his eldest son had both fallen. Wild with grief and rage, Terumasa, the only remaining son, had leapt upon his horse and was about to plunge headlong into the opposing lines to avenge their death when his faithful servant, Dansuké, caught hold of his bridle and with all his might strove to keep back the impetuous youth—he was barely twenty—from rushing on his fate.
But all unavailing were his remonstrances and entreaties. Quite mad for the nonce, Terumasa was determined to carry out his intention, and he struck Dansuké more than one stinging blow with his whip in order to force him to let go.
“Since you will not listen to reason, my lord, it is vain for me to seek to detain you. Go, then, and gain renown from all who shall hear of your gallant deed—friends and foes alike. I wish you good speed. Let me touch up your horse a little that he may go the faster.”