Secular Authority and the Sacred Arts in Momoyama Japan

Andrew M. Watsky (Vassar College)

Society for the Study of Japanese Religions
AAS Annual Meeting, Washington, D.C., April 5, 2002

Please Note: This draft is not for quotation or citation without author’s permission.

The role of religion in Japan was reconfigured in the late sixteenth-early seventeenth century. As they had in the past, the Japanese continued to engage the numinous in response to the needs of life and death, the everyday and the extraordinary. But the warrior-class leaders who emerged at this time, the Momoyama period, made new demands on the religious establishment that deeply altered its character. The great temples were disarmed, epitomized by Nobunaga’s razing of Mount Hiei in 1571. Warrior-class rulers were deified, gods whose cults immediately became dominant focuses of Japanese worship. Normally uncooperative Buddhist sects were made to collaborate in massive communal ceremonies, on order of Hideyoshi, who sought to make Buddhism serve his will. The sacred was still profoundly important in Momoyama Japan, but it was also profoundly transformed.

The Toyotomi, more than any other warrior family, manipulated this transformation, first under Hideyoshi and then, after Hideyoshi’s death, under his son and heir Hideyori. With increasing intensity, they laid claim to the sacred as an instrument of political success and as a source of identity. They asserted this most concretely through their massive sponsorship of religious architecture, much of it decorated by the most famous artists of the day, and in doing so virtually rebuilt the architectural framework of Japan’s sacred realm. Some of the most famous religious buildings of even ancient times—the seventh-century Hôryûji, for example—exist today, arguably, because of Toyotomi attentions. In this essay, I shall concentrate on the phase of Toyotomi activity after Hideyoshi’s death, to examine how the evidence of architecture—actual architecture, paintings of architecture, and documents related to architecture—reveals a history that is most often undervalued, if not disregarded.

Traditionally, the post-Hideyoshi period has been characterized as one of rapid Tokugawa ascent and corresponding Toyotomi decline. A more accurate description sees the Tokugawa domination as an incremental triumph only achieved slowly over the course of some fifteen years, during which time the Toyotomi remained a considerable force. [1] Many contestants at the time well understood that Toyotomi strength was lessened but not eliminated: in 1601, for example, the Tokugawa supporter Date Masamune (1567-1636) counseled, “If you treat Osaka casually, there are those who . . . will attempt to make Hideyori leader.”[2]

Although the child heir Hideyori was, initially, only a figurehead for the Toyotomi cause, behind him stood his forceful mother Yododono (d. 1615), who emerges in diaries and letters as a figure who wielded substantial power and who orchestrated many of the Toyotomi actions.

Almost immediately after Hideyoshi’s death, the Toyotomi embarked on massive sponsorship of the sacred realm, in the hope that, by engaging accepted religious practice, they could tap the authority that the sacred was widely believed to hold and make it the foundation for political resurrection. In Kyoto the Toyotomi carried out the central sacred project of the post-Hideyoshi era: the deification of Hideyoshi and the creation of Toyokuni Shrine (also read by some as the Hôkoku Shrine), the grand Shinto complex in which he was worshipped.[3] In this way Hideyoshi was transformed from temporal intermediary of sacred protection of Japan (through, for instance, his sponsorship of the Great Buddha) to the eternal, deified agent of protection itself. His family hoped to be elevated by relationship with this suddenly manifested god to a correspondingly privileged standing; Hideyori was the most closely related to Toyokuni Daimyôjin, an association the Toyotomi sought to perpetuate and publicize. To this end, the young Hideyori brushed numerous calligraphies of the deity’s name, typically one vertical line of boldly, if not yet expertly, brushed characters on a long piece of paper, and often, at the lower left, his own name and age. The Toyotomi sent them as talismanic objects to temples and shrines throughout Japan.

Among the many activities at the Toyokuni Shrine, one event stands out. On Hideyoshi’s seventh death anniversary, in the eighth month of 1604, a week-long festival was held, the Toyokuni Special Festival. The Toyotomi’s largest public display in the post-Hideyoshi period, it glorified the deified Hideyoshi and, by association, his survivors. Virtually all diaries of the period contain accounts of this Festival. The Toyotomi themselves commissioned a pair of folding-screen paintings depicting two days of the festival, seen here right and left, and donated them to the Toyokuni Shrine in 1606, where they were set up to be viewed.[4] The audience for such a painting likely comprised the unending stream of shrine visitors and so it disseminated the Toyotomi’s reading of the event.

Each screen is devoted to one day’s events, one to the great procession and performances of the fourteenth, the other to the frenetic dancing of the fifteenth, and each is given its compositional structure by the architectural complexes where the events were staged, respectively the Toyokuni Shine and the Great Buddha Hall. Holding the festivities at both temple and shrine displayed the Toyotomi’s syncretic embrace of the sacred, a conception rehearsed, with emphasis, by pairing the two complexes on these screens. The screens portray a population joined in mass veneration at a series of magnificent buildings that together form a religious epicenter.

The right-hand screen captures the fourteenth at its peak: a crowd fills the precinct, its numbers ever swelled by the lengthy procession still entering at the outermost gate. The painter has depicted all in rich detail, including elaborate viewing booths set against the walls, fitted with polychrome wall paintings; each accommodates well-dressed men, women, and children. The painting thus stresses the Toyotomi’s wish to incorporate Japan’s secular elites into their sacred event and thereby demonstrate their continuing hold over them. The Daigoji monk Gien writes in his diary, in fact, that the whole spectrum of Kyotoites witnessed the revelry of the fourteenth, though many were confined to the streets: “between the area of the bridges at Fifth Street and Third Street, and up to the Myôjin [Toyokuni Shrine], there was no empty space; there was nothing but crowds of people, high and low.”[5]

The painting’s composition is tipped forward and seen from above, permitting a privileged view of the vast shrine grounds (so extensive, the artist suggests, they could not be contained within the screen’s six panels). Overlooking all, at the top center of the painting, is the majestic principal building of the Toyokuni Shrine, pictured on an angle that allows its full grandeur to be appreciated; it consists of two linked structures on axis, creating a doubled and therefore amplified presence. In stark contrast to the commotion elsewhere in the painting, this area is tranquil and solemn: many figures face the shrine in silent contemplation, awed by the magnificence of the grand structure and by Toyokuni Daimyôjin, the august sacred presence within.

The activities of the next day, the fifteenth, took place at the Great Buddha Hall, on the left-hand screen. The centrality of the Great Buddha Hall, as depicted here, is one indication of the importance for the Toyotomi of its repair, for it had been greatly damaged by earthquake in 1596. We don’t have time to consider the complexity of this renewal; suffice it to say that it occupied the Toyotomi until their demise in 1615.

The architecture determines the painting’s composition: the massive hall—largest building in all Japan—towers above the human actors before it. Obliquely viewed, its enormous rectangular shape is precisely echoed by walls that define the outer perimeter of its broad precinct, which spreads across four of the six panels. Adding to its monumentality is the dark, double-tiered, deeply curved roof, which pierces the clouds that fill much of the rest of the screen.

In front of its perimeter walls, the townspeople’s celebratory dance is underway, viewed by privileged spectators in elaborately embellished booths. Two groups perform simultaneously, while three others watch and wait their turn. In the center of each circle of dancers, ecstatic disorder reigns: diversely garbed figures gyrate in abandon; according to Gien’s diary, “they [were dressed as] the Shitennô, . . . or as Daikoku, Ebisu, or the Kôya saint Oi. They took all possible forms . . . It is difficult to describe in words.” The painting confirms his account, capturing the astonishingly varied dancers. In the painting, the performers confine themselves within boundaries imposed by the Toyotomi’s great Buddhist precincts, a dutifulness witnessed by Kyoto’s elites and, of course, by the viewers of the painting. Pictured too are rough-shod beggars, noted in period accounts, gathered at the door of the Great Buddha Hall—framed by clouds and thereby highlighted—to receive alms, thus completing the roster of Kyoto inhabitants incorporated into this idealized vision of the Toyotomi’s conscientious benevolence. The festival continued on for several more days, but the two days immortalized on this pair of screens were its high point.

How are we to interpret the 1604 festival and its remembrances? The similarities among the written accounts indicate, presumably, a reality observed. The screens, commissioned by the Toyotomi, a reality desired. The writings confirm a decidedly positive reception: the comments are attentive, respectful, and awestruck. The screens mine the potential of painting to selectively distill, modify, and picture any situation according to the desire of its patron. There is, notably, remarkable agreement between the writers’ perceptions and the patrons’ painted portrayal: this religious festival was well executed and wildly popular. And so the Toyotomi’s objectives were met: to surpass any other public demonstration of its time; to elevate the still-living Toyotomi by virtue of their place in the lineage of a god; and, ultimately, to create a positive impression of Toyotomi suitability to rule.

Toyotomi Construction at Religious Sites Outside Kyoto

Although Kyoto—where the Festival and these buildings were located—was Momoyama’s political center, it was not its sole place of importance; long-revered wellheads of divine power, places at which previous sovereigns had demonstrated their wisdom by constructing outstanding buildings, punctuated the whole of the archipelago. The Toyotomi thus looked elsewhere in the sacred realm, beyond and in addition to their new shrine, to consummate their claims of legitimacy. And so, from 1599 through 1614, they sponsored construction at no fewer than ninety separate temples and shrines, many involving multiple structures.[6] Their campaign far exceeded anyone else’s; the Toyotomi, in short, became the chief patron of sacred Japan.

Within the Home Domain

Like other local rulers, the Toyotomi were active in their own domain; daimyo throughout Japan sponsored the construction of temples and shrines, invoking the sacred realm for the protection of their local interests.[7] What differentiated the Toyotomi from other daimyo is the remarkably large number of projects they sponsored: even the expected they did exceptionally. In the first decade of the seventeenth century, the Toyotomi completed projects at more than forty religious sites within their home territory of Settsu, Kawachi, and Izumi provinces, including the ancient Shitennôji, Sôjiji, Honzanji, Konda Hachimangû, and Kanshinji. Hideyori is named as the patron behind construction at a group of shrines in Izumi, including Katano Jinja, Anashi Jinja, Tsugawa Jinja, and Hijiri Jinja; the boldly carved and polychromed woodcarvings on this building are the stylistic descendants of an ornamental tradition of architecture that emerged under Hideyoshi and thus spoke of earlier Toyotomi power.

Outside the Home Domain: Following Hideyoshi’s Lead

Less expected of a ruler with only local ambition were projects executed outside his own domain, and in this regard no one in the post-Hideyoshi period was more active than the Toyotomi. They sponsored projects at temples and shrines in Kyoto, in Nara, and along far-flung pilgrimage routes encompassing the ancient shrines of Ise, Kumano, and Izumo. Their criteria for choosing a site varied, though several distinct patterns can be ascertained.

Some were linked to Hideyoshi. At Yoshino, for example, deep in the mountains outside Nara, Hideyori rebuilt the Great Bridge and Mikumari Jinja. Hideyoshi had sponsored construction at Yoshino’s eminent Buddhist temple, Kinpusenji, and he visited the area because of its famed cherry trees. Yoshino was replete with the aura of Hideyoshi and so the Toyotomi chose it as a site for restoration.[8]

We have seen that the Toyotomi rebuilt Hideyoshi’s most important creation, the Great Buddha Hall, and they also reconstructed the Kitano Shrine, where Hideyoshi had held his famed colossal tea gathering in 1587.[9] The Toyotomi sponsored work at many other significant Kyoto temples with Hideyoshi associations, including Tôji, Shôkokuji, Nanzenji, Seiryôji, Enryakuji on Mount Hiei, and Daigoji. Hideyoshi had restored Daigoji’s venerable tenth-century pagoda, and after his cherry-blossom outing there in 1598 promised reconstruction of its Golden Hall and, a week later, of a long roster of other structures. He died before this pledge could be carried out, leaving it to Hideyori to fulfill, a project he began in 1600, and which included the Golden Hall, still extant.

Gien, Daigoji’s head priest and therefore intensely interested in these proceedings, recorded in his diary the text he wrote for the Golden Hall’s munafuda, or commemorative ridgepole placard, which I will briefly paraphrase.[10] The text states that reconstruction was initially commanded by Hideyoshi, referred to by an imperial title—and who is therefore a legitimated ruler—but lay dormant until the next similarly legitimated magnate appeared, Hideyori, who released funds, and empowered those at his behest to realize the holy work with due efficiency. For such beneficence to the sacred realm, this “warrior house will last eternally.”

The circumstances within which this encomium appeared—and all evidence suggests these texts were well circulated—would have permitted the reception that the Toyotomi intended. The recent historical context appeared hopeful for the Toyotomi: in the first years of the seventeenth century, the cult of Hideyoshi was a potent dynamic; as his son and designated heir, Hideyori was seen by many as the rightful and still conceivable successor to his authority.

Several years after completing the Golden Hall, in 1606, Hideyori again turned his attention to Daigoji and sponsored the reconstruction of several other structures there, including the Mieidô, Godaidô, and Nyoirindô in the upper precincts on top of Daigo mountain, which had burned the previous year.[11]

Outside the Home Domain: Expanding Hideyoshi’s Legacy

The Toyotomi campaign transcended the parameters of domainal responsibility and family precedent. It ranged widely, seeking sites of consequence within Japan’s deep sacred past. These places existed in a sphere apart from local political controls, unlike secular buildings (such as castles, for instance), and by sponsoring them, the Toyotomi could assert their claim to relevance beyond their territory.

In Nara, for instance, Hideyori sponsored extensive repairs from 1600 through 1606 on many buildings at ancient Hôryûji, including the pagoda.[12] This project embraced some of the major themes the Toyotomi espoused in much of their far-reaching campaign, carefully articulated in ridgepole placard texts, which were sanctioned by the Toyotomi. The underlying theme of these Horyuji texts is Toyotomi concern for the spiritual, and hence overall, welfare of Japan. Let me read parts of one:

Hôryûji Gakumonji, in Heiguri County of Yamato Province, is the first temple of the Buddhist law and a holy site for the protection of the nation. Now, more than one thousand years since it was founded by Shôtoku Taishi, Toyotomi Ason Udaijin Hideyori Kô [gave the order] Katagiri Higashi Ichinokami to rebuild and repair all of the buildings within the four sides of the temple precincts with a succession of chief priests. This is because [this project] well matches the year of future repairs recorded [predicted] by Daishô [Shôtoku Taishi], and recalls the poetic description of [Shôtoku Taishi’s] follower. Without doubt, [Hideyori] should be respected, he should be revered.[13]

Thus, the entire Hôryûji complex is presented as a place of unsurpassed historical importance, a fountainhead of Japanese Buddhism, linked to Prince Shôtoku (574-622), the first major imperial patron of Buddhism in Japan, and also a fortification in Japan’s defense. A full millennium had elapsed since Hôryûji’s predecessor on the site, Wakakusadera, was founded, and Hideyori is credited with understanding and responding to the vital need to repair the temple’s physical decay; even more wondrous, however, the wise Shôtoku had foreseen the distant future need for these repairs, a need met by the sagacity of Hideyori. There is in this claim an assertion of Hideyori’s singular suitability, even inevitability, to take his proper place not only in his father’s line, but in the lineage of Japan’s most illustrious leaders: his links to Shôtoku further justifies Hideyori’s claim to power.

In this regard it is important to emphasize that Hideyori most often engaged in the restoration of religious buildings—rather than in the construction of new ones—repairing and therefore preserving old buildings whose places in the sacro-historical record were deeply embedded and widely recognized as important to the preservation of Japan. Such repair bolstered the ancient structures with new components, and thereby literally—as well as figuratively—linked the ancient with the present, that is, with the Toyotomi.

One of the most spectacular refurbishings of the Toyotomi program occurred on Chikubushima, a sacred island in the far northern end of Lake Biwa, where dwelled the protector deity Benzaiten. On this island, which had earlier enjoyed Hideyoshi’s favored patronage, Hideyori repaired the major building on the island, a hall dedicated to the worship of Benzaiten. As part of this repair, Hideyori moved from Kyoto to the island one of the most spectacular buildings of the Momoyama period—a small structure covered both inside and out in gold makie lacquer—the only building so richly lacquered in Japan—, paintings by Kano Mitsunobu, architectural relief carvings, and other mediums—and they incorporated this structure into the pre-existing Benzaiten Hall. This was a remarkably complex project—one that, for time’s sake, I cannot detail here—(but it is the focus of my forthcoming book). This project too was commemorated with a long ridgepole placard text that celebrated Hideyori’s role in providing proper accommodations for Benzaiten and—likening him to previous celebrated rulers—thereby provided the necessary protections for Japan.

Commemorating Sacred Construction

The Toyotomi hoped the Momoyama audience would appreciate all of these projects in the impressive terms in which they were proclaimed. Each project was commemorated in a ridgepole placard, some long and detailed, even more so than the examples cited above, others much shorter but never omitting the vital information that the patron was Hideyori. From the placards themselves, conversations about them, and reports of them, the Toyotomi gloss on these sacred activities reached its intended audience.

Diaries also tell us that the intent of Hideyori’s works was discussed. One writer, for example, saw Toyotomi sponsorship of religious construction projects as one part of the family’s broad range of sacred work, motivated not only by family interests, but often by the benefit of Japan as a whole. In a 1604 entry, he wrote, “For the past two or three years, Hideyori Kô has constructed temple buildings in the various provinces; could it be that it is because in his heart he is offering vows [ryûgan]?”[14] He thus proposes a spiritual motive for the extensive Toyotomi religious construction throughout Japan.

In 1607, the same writer expanded upon this hypothesis:

From this time, Hideyori Kô of Osaka is rebuilding Kitano Shrine; not only Kitano, but all temple and shrine buildings in recent years are constructed [by him]. Hideyori Kô is but a child, and it is said that perhaps [such reconstruction] is the vow [hatsugan] of his mother [Yododono], which is wonderful. The rumor throughout Kyoto is that this is because [Yododono] has repeatedly had auspicious dreams.[15]

The boy Hideyori was nominally the sponsor of Toyotomi religious construction, but Yododono was the true principal. Her motive was to realize, with the help of sacred powers, a wish manifested in repeated auspicious dreams. Considering the nature and documentary record of Toyotomi activities we’ve examined, such dreams were surely the restoration of Toyotomi political dominance. This account is not the opinion of a lone onlooker, moreover, but of a rumor he had heard. Throughout Kyoto, in other words, there circulated the perception that the Toyotomi projects were inspired by the hope of enlisting the sacred in great fortune. At this time, the possibility of Toyotomi revival seemed realistic—and to obtain it, the Toyotomi were working hard in the sacred realm.

Finally, the significance of Toyotomi religious activity as a symbol of Toyotomi power was not lost on the Tokugawa. One gauge of their awareness is the rapidity with which the Tokugawa dismantled the Toyokuni Shrine after the fall of Osaka in 1615. Equally significantly, the Tokugawa then followed the Toyotomi example, by elevating Ieyasu to the status of a deity (Tôshô Daigongen) in the year after his death and constructing the Tôshôgû shrine complexes at Kunôzan, Nikkô, and elsewhere. The Toyotomi showed that it well suited a ruling clan to worship its progenitor-turned-god, and to sponsor the sacred realm; no family pursued this path as single-mindedly, nor—at least until 1614—as successfully, as the post-Hideyoshi Toyotomi.

NOTES

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[1] Fujino Tamotsu, for example, describes a three-step process to Tokugawa hegemony, marked by the Battle of Sekigahara, the Osaka Campaigns, and finally the creation of the countrywide bakuhan administrative establishment that characterized the Tokugawa regime; see Fujino Tamotsu, Shintei bakuhan taisei shi no kenkyû (Tokyo: Yoshikawa Kôbunkan, 1975), pp. 201-208.

[2] Cited in Asao Naohiro, “Bakuhansei to tennô,” in Kinsei, vol. 3 of Taikei Nihon kokka shi, ed. Hara Hidesaburô, Minegishi Sumio, Sasaki Junnosuke, and Nakamura Masanori (Tokyo: Tôkyô Daigaku Shuppankai, 1975), p. 211.

[3] Much of the documentary evidence surrounding Hideyoshi’s apotheosis and the creation of his shrine is presented in Miyachi Naokazu, “Hôtaikô to Toyokuni Daimyôjin,” in Jingi to kokushi (Tokyo: Kokin Shoin, 1926), pp. 310-382, and two recent Japanese articles re-engage it: Miki Seiichirô, “Hôkokusha no zôei ni kansuru ichikôsatsu,” Nagoya Daigaku Bungakubu kenkyû ronshû 98, Shigaku 33 (1987), pp. 195-209, and Nishiyama Masaru, “Toyotomi ‘shiso’ shinwa no fûkei,” Shisô, no. 829 (1993), pp. 83-100. See also Kawauchi Masayoshi, “Hôkokusha no seiritsu katei ni tsuite: Hideyoshi shinkakuka o megutte,” Hisutoria, no. 164 (1999), pp. 56-70; Tsuda Saburô, Hideyoshi, hideo densetsu no nazo: Hiyoshimaru kara Hôtaikô e, Chûkô bunko, no. 800 (Tokyo: Chûô Kôronsha, 1997), pp. 13-32; and, for a useful chronology of events relating to the Toyokuni Shrine, Tsuda, Hideyoshi, hideo densetsu no kiseki: Shirarezaru uramenshi, pp. 200-234. For a recent, detailed discussion of human deification in this period, including Hideyoshi’s case, see W.J. Boot, “The Death of a Shogun: Deification in Early Modern Japan,” in Shinto in History: Ways of the Kami, ed. John Breen and Mark Teeuwen (Honolulu: University of Hawai‘i Press, 2000), pp. 144-166,

[4] Shunkyûki, ed. Kamata Jun’ichi, 5 vols., Shiryô sanshû, kokiroku hen (Tokyo: Zoku Gunsho Ruijû Kanseikai, 1970-1983). For this citation, see vol. 2, p. 248 (1606 [Keichô 11].8.18). Bonshun indicates that Katagiri Katsumoto, Hideyori’s chief administrator, made the donation. In 1612, Bonshun notes a new pair of screen paintings in the lower chamber of the shrine, although he does not indicate what they depict; cited in Dai Nihon shiryô, ed. Tôkyô Daigaku (Tokyo: Tôkyô Daigaku, 1901-): pt. 12, vol. 9, p. 679 (1612 [Keichô 17].4.16); Dai Nihon shiryô is hereafter referred to as DNS,

[5] Gien Jugô nikki, ed. Iyanaga Teizô, 3 vols., Shiryô sanshû, kokiroku hen (Tokyo: Zoku Gunsho Ruijû Kanseikai, 1976-); hereafter GJN. For this citation, see vol. 3, p. 240 (1604 [Keichô 9].8.14).

[6] The Toyotomi’s post-Hideyoshi sponsorship of religious construction has attracted notable scholarly interest. The most recent—and most comprehensive—effort to quantify and analyze this campaign, incorporating informative chronological and geographical charts, is Kimura Nobuko, “Toyotomi Hideyori no jisha zôei ni tsuite,” Nihon kenchiku gakkai keikakukei ronbunshû, no. 499 (1997), pp. 171-177. Among the earlier essays are: Kawakatsu Masatarô, “Hideyori no shaji kenchiku saikô,” Shiseki to bijutsu, no. 71 (1936), pp. 589-600; Moku Masao, “Katagiri Katsumoto to Keichô no shûri,” Gekkan bunkazai, no. 151 (1976), pp. 4-15; and Fujii Naomasa, “Toyotomi Hideyori no shaji zôei to sono ikô,” Ôtemae Joshi Daigaku ronshû, no. 17 (1983), pp. 48-72.

[7] The prevalence of such construction is affirmed by the numerous placards that remain from this period throughout Japan; see, for example, the many examples included in National Museum of Japanese History, ed., Hibunken shiryô no kisoteki kenkyû (munafuda)” hôkokusho: Shaji no kokuhô, jûbun kenzôbutsu nado: Munafuda meibun shûsei, 6 vols. (Sakura: National Museum of Japanese History, 1993-1997).

[8] See Yoshino Chô Shi Henshû Iinkai, ed. Yoshino Chô shi, 2 vols. (Nara: Yoshino Machiyakuba, 1972) and, for Mikumari Jinja, Sakurai Toshio, “Yoshino Mikumari Jinja Honden,” in Shaden 3, vol. 3 of Nihon kenchiku shi kiso shiryô shûsei, ed. Ôta Hirotarô, pp. 48-55 (Tokyo: Chûô Kôron Bijutsu Shuppan, 1981).

[9] For the period textual evidence of Hideyori’s patronage, which includes a placard and inscribed gibôshu and mirror, see Kawakatsu Masatarô and Sasaki Rizô, Kyôto komei shuki (Kyoto: Suzukake Shuppanbu, 1941), pp. 334-337; for only the placard, see National Museum of Japanese History, ed., “Hibunken shiryô no kisoteki kenkyû (munafuda)” hôkokusho, Kinki hen 1, p. 140.

[10] See GJN, vol. 2, pp. 159-161 (1600 [Keichô 5].4.18). The placard is transcribed in National Museum of Japanese History, ed., “Hibunken shiryô no kisoteki kenkyû (munafuda)” hôkokusho, Kinki hen 1, p. 187.

[11] For the documentary evidence surrounding this aspect of Hideyori’s Daigoji project, especially Gien’s careful diary notations, see DNS, pt. 12, vol. 4, pp. 216-229.

[12] For a review of the dates of the various stages of the Hôryûji project and of the types of evidence that have been uncovered, see Moku, “Katagiri Katsumoto to Keichô no shûri,” pp. 10-13.

[13] The text of the placard is transcribed in Sawamura Masashi, “Hôryûji Tôin Denpôdô,” in Butsudô 1, vol. 4 of Nihon kenchiku shi kiso shiryô shûsei, ed. Ôta Hirotarô (Tokyo: Chûô Kôron Bijutsu Shuppan, 1981), p. 50.

[14] Tôdaiki, in vol. 2 of Shiseki zassan, ed. Hayakawa Junsaburô (Tokyo: Kokusho Kankôkai, 1911), p. 83 (1604 [Keichô 9].5.3).

[15] Tôdaiki, p. 109 (1607 [Keichô 12].9.10). This passage is cited in Fujii, “Toyotomi Hideyori no shaji zôei to sono ikô,” p. 56.