Hattori Hanzō - The Samurai Ninja who Served Tokugawa Ieyasu

The Sengoku Jidai is one of the darkest and most brutal periods in Japanese history, with only the country’s entry into the industrial world coming close. A time of complete chaos and warfare, it was started by the collapse of the Ashikaga Shogunate. Even if they would live on for most of this period, they really had no control whatsoever over anything. Things were kicked off by the Ōnin War, a civil war started over a succession crisis, because of course this is the number one issue when shit hits the fan. The participants in the conflict, the Yamana and Hosokawa clans, fought for influence at the court, and while the latter would prove victorious on the field, in reality, both sides pretty much destroyed each other. What followed was a century of bloodshed, betrayal, and destruction on a scale that made the War of the Five Kings from A Song of Ice and Fire look like a Dr. Seuss storybook. If you know the minimum about Japan’s history, you know this period would end with the rise of Oda Nobunaga, Toyotomi Hideyoshi, and Tokugawa Ieyasu, who would put the island under a single banner once more. This week’s story will go over one of Ieyasu’s retainers, a man working faithfully in the shadows for the interests of his daimyo and even saving him twice from certain death: Hattori Hanzō.

Now, Hanzō was born into a smaller samurai clan, the Hattori, in the mountainous region of Iga. Iga Province was a bit of a special place, as in a Japan ruled by martial prowess and samurai, the prefecture was instead managed by a ring of ninjas and served as their home base. Yes, he was a samurai ninja; this wasn’t that strange for the time, so you’d better get used to it. The Hattori clan was a vassal of the Matsudaira, precursors of the Tokugawa, and would prove themselves to be their most loyal followers.

Hanzō’s first major contribution to the Tokugawa would be in 1562, with the siege of Kamigōno Castle. This was during Ieyasu’s campaign against the crumbling Imagawa, who, after their crushing defeat at Okehazama, had lost any form of authority and cohesion, and consolidated his own standing. That, and also because his wife and daughters were held hostage there, so there’s that. Hanzō played a crucial role in this victory, as he not only infiltrated the fortified place with a group of ninjas and rescued his daimyo’s family but also captured many surviving Imagawa, who would serve Ieyasu later as bargaining chips.

Despite being a ninja, Hanzō would also prove himself to be one of Ieyasu’s best strategists, leading the man to put him in charge of many offensives, like the siege of Kakegawa. Just like his father, Hanzō would stand out through his unwavering loyalty to the Tokugawa, demonstrated when Oda Nobunaga accused Tokugawa Ieyasu’s eldest son, Nobuyasu, of treason and ordered Hanzō to oversee the execution. Whether Nobuyasu was actually guilty or not was never truly determined, but Hanzō flat-out rejected the order, claiming that turning his blade on his master’s blood was unacceptable in principle.

This act didn’t go unnoticed by Ieyasu himself, and he would return the favor a few years later when the leader of the Iga ninjas got himself in a bit of a pickle. You see, during an incoming battle with the Shingen, a minor disagreement over strategy threatened to spiral out of control. Hanzō decided to step in and act as a mediator, but the Ōkagi, one of Nobunaga’s most influential vassals, attacked his retinue for unknown reasons. Despite having technically started the fight, which resulted in many casualties, the Ōkagi insisted that the blame be pinned on Hanzō and demanded his execution. Here, Ieyasu, instead of directly opposing the Ōkagi and risking his alliance with the Oda, hid the ninja away and presented someone else’s head instead to satisfy all parties. Where he got that head is anyone’s guess.

Hanzō’s true worth and dedication to Tokugawa Ieyasu would become clear in 1571, when Takeda Shingen, one of the great legends of the Sengoku Jidai, launched an invasion of the Oda-Tokugawa domain. The timing was perfect, as at the time both clans had their forces far from their homeland because this was during Nobunaga’s great campaign to conquer and secure Kyoto. He and Ieyasu were busy consolidating their powers and crushing pretenders who conveniently came one at a time: the Azai, Asakura, Miyoshi, and some Ikkō-ikki enclaves. Now Shingen made his move, and the Tokugawa lands were first on his path to total dominion over Japan, so Ieyasu was quick to make his stand. Here again, Hanzō was at the front of the defensive effort, deploying his ninja network against the invaders, gathering valuable intelligence, and striking wherever they could. Takeda’s advance was greatly slowed, as Hattori’s attacks cost them a fair number of men and scouts, but they still pressed on.

Ieyasu finally met Shingen at the Battle of Mikatagahara, a large and open plain. The Tokugawa chose this spot as it was the perfect place to deploy their arquebusiers, a new weapon in Japan. Unfortunately, that decision backfired horribly, as it also allowed Shingen to fully use his trump card: a cavalry charge. You see, horse riding had never really taken on an important role in Japanese warfare, being mostly employed for scouting and communications. For the rest, actual battlefield utilization was mostly carried out by samurai who were skilled mounted archers, until Takeda Shingen arrived.

The Battle of Mikatagahara was a brutal and completely one-sided massacre, as the eleven-thousand-strong Tokugawa force was nearly wiped out, while the Takeda, who already had three times their numbers, didn’t even lose a thousand men. This could have been the end of Ieyasu’s life, but since he would become the founder of the last Shogunate, you can guess this wouldn’t be the case. So how did he survive this seemingly doomed situation? Easily: through a mix of bushido, insane luck, and his good old subordinate, Hattori Hanzō.

Having escaped to a nearby fortress, Ieyasu had only a handful of men under his command. Knowing this would be nowhere near enough to stop the still-tens-of-thousands-strong Takeda, he decided to get creative. Despite his precarious situation, Ieyasu knew that time was actually on his side, as Shingen was on a tight schedule. You see, the more time he wasted in Tokugawa lands, the more time Nobunaga would have to strike back, but if he stayed too long outside his province, his great rivals, the Uesugi, would invade them.

Ieyasu made up his mind and, in a bold display of a ghost army, opened up the main gate as Shingen arrived for his final assault and gathered his men right outside. Meanwhile, on the walls, he had his soldiers prepare bonfires and dummy soldiers to give the illusion that the Tokugawa had reserves ready to fight. To complete his trick, Hanzō and his ninjas launched a lightning strike, killing many of the vanguard before disappearing into the woods, using their secret arts of camouflage. All of this put together convinced Shingen that he had vastly overestimated the Tokugawa’s weakness, and he retreated.

Well, that was a close call. I hope Hattori doesn’t have to narrowly save his master from another near-death situation. Wait, what’s that? This is the year 1582, and Mitsuhide just assassinated Oda Nobunaga? Oh well, I guess we are back at it again.

Mitsuhide wasted no time consolidating power and established himself as the new Shogun, at which he failed miserably. Toyotomi Hideyoshi, the second of Oda Nobunaga’s main allies, immediately B-lined for Kyoto and crushed the rogue general, avenging his friend days after his death. Ieyasu, meanwhile, was in a more precarious position, as at the time he was touring Kansai when Mitsuhide’s loyalists ambushed him. Barely escaping with his life, he was still in hostile territory, surrounded by enemies with just a handful of men at his command. And once again, when all hope seemed lost, good old Hattori Hanzō was there to cut the nose off his master’s face. Using secret passages and hidden trails, Hanzō guided Ieyasu and his retinue as they slipped away back into Iga, his homeland. Here, he first gathered more forces to protect Ieyasu before making their way back to Tokugawa territory.

There was one small problem: their path was blocked by the Kōka ikki ninja clans, fierce rivals of the Hattori. The good news was that they owed Tokugawa Ieyasu big time. You see, they had gotten into a pickle with Oda Nobunaga a while back and only survived the incident because good old Ieyasu convinced him to spare them. They had not forgotten that gesture, and despite having to work with their rivals, they were more than happy to repay their debt.

Hanzō would continue to loyally serve Tokugawa Ieyasu and participate in virtually all of his campaigns, such as the Tenshō-Jingo War, the Odawara Campaign, and even that one time Ieyasu and Hideyoshi went at each other’s throats. All of these would grant Hanzō the title of Yoriki, his right-hand man.

The only major campaign of Ieyasu’s that Hanzō would miss was the campaign against Mitsunari, a scheming administrator of Hideyoshi who plotted to take over the country after the latter’s death. The reason? Hanzō had died three years earlier, either of illness or while pursuing a rival ninja, Fūma Kotarō.