A large force under the command of Ii Naotaka advanced from the enemy’s camp and rushed to the attack. Shigenari met them at the head of seven hundred cavalry, and a fierce struggle took place. With the strength of desperation Shigenari’s company, though so inferior in numbers, beat back the foe. But as one regiment was beaten, another and yet another dashed forward to take its place, and it was impossible that the castle party could win in the end.
“We must cut our way into the main regiment,” said Shigenari during a short breathing space to his faithful retainer Ryōkwan—once known as the “Tea-priest”—“If we can only manage to kill Ii Naotaka, the Commander in Chief, the enemy will be disheartened and we may have some chance.”
Then inspired by the example of their leader, the little band hurled themselves on the foe; and unable to stand against such fury, the fourth and fifth companies fell back in disorder, and it seemed that a general rout would be the result.
Ii alone stood his ground. Brandishing his saihai or baton he roared in stentorian tones:—
“Cowards! Do you fly before such a handful? Back, back, and the day is ours!”
His words took instant effect. His flying troops rallied, maintained their position and fought bravely. Seeing this, Shigenari smiled grimly to himself.
“Now is my time to break through the lines, kill Ii and then die!”
Putting spurs to his horse he darted forward swift as a flash of lightning, his brilliant helmet and shining armour gleaming in the sun. Ryōkwan followed close with his heavy iron rod, and the rest of the devoted band strove to keep up, cutting and hewing their way through the ranks. So violent was their onset that again Ii’s men wavered. At this critical juncture Seki Jūrozaemon, a samurai noted for his huge strength, suddenly appeared and struck at Shigenari with a great halberd; but Shigenari’s spear point pierced clean through his breastplate of mail and he fell dead from his horse. Ii’s soldiers were panic-stricken and none ventured to oppose Shigenari who continued his onward rush and attacked Ii before he had time to escape. Being no match for his assailant, Ii must have fallen had it not been for one Fujita Noto-no-Kami who came to his rescue. Furious at this check Shigenari turned to throw him from the saddle with a single thrust, and in that moment Ii managed to escape.
Looking back, Shigenari could see but few of his men; nearly all had fallen in the mêlée. Severely wounded, and faint with loss of blood, Shigenari realised that he could do no more. Unnoticed he alighted from his spent horse and retired to a small grove on some elevated ground. His approach was observed by a low fellow belonging to Ii’s camp who was hiding behind the trees. Such was the estimation in which Shigenari was held that even in his weakness he inspired awe and dread. The skulking coward did not dare to attack him openly, but as the wounded hero lay gasping on the ground stole softly up behind him and aimed a blow at his head. Shigenari heard the slight rustle of his approach and turned, whereupon the wretch made off. Shigenari called him back.
“Fellow,” he said, “whoever you are, come here and take my head.”