Martyrdom of Mokichi and Ichizo

The water punishment and martyrdom of Mokichi and Ichizo, two Christian peasants from the village of Tomogi, stands as the first direct, prolonged suffering that Sebastian Rodrigues witnesses as a direct consequence of his own presence in Japan. The event shatters his romanticized vision of glorious martyrdom and forces him to confront the agonizing silence of God in the face of human anguish, a silence that becomes the central theological crisis of his mission.

Background and Arrest

The event was set in motion by the arrest of Mokichi and Ichizo, along with the weak-willed Kichijiro, after they were taken as hostages from Tomogi. The officials, led by the cunning Inoue, had pressured the village to reveal the hidden priests. Before their departure, the three men climbed the mountain to the priests' hut. Mokichi, head hanging, asked Rodrigues a devastating question: "If we are ordered to trample on the fumie... It's not only a matter that concerns us. If we don't trample, everyone in the village will be cross-examined. What are we to do?" Overcome with pity, Rodrigues shouted, "Trample! Trample!"—a command he immediately regretted, as Garrpe looked at him reproachfully. Kichijiro wept, asking, "Why has Deus Sama given us this trial? We have done no wrong." At the magistrate's office in Sakuradai, the three were ordered to trample on the fumie. Kichijiro, following Rodrigues' advice, was the first to place his foot on the image of the Virgin and Child, followed by Mokichi and Ichizo. But the officials, noticing the heavy, nervous breathing on their faces, were not deceived. They were then ordered to spit on the crucifix and declare the Blessed Virgin a whore—a plan devised by Inoue, who knew the peasants honored Mary above all. Mokichi and Ichizo could not comply; a white tear overflowed from Mokichi's eye and rolled down his cheek, and Ichizo shook his head as though caught in the throes of pain. Both confessed openly that they were Christians. Only Kichijiro, overcome by threats, gasped out the required blasphemy and let fall the insulting spittle on the fumie. Mokichi and Ichizo were imprisoned for ten days, while Kichijiro was set free and disappeared.

The Water Punishment

On June 20th, the officials rode into Tomogi with a proclamation: Mokichi and Ichizo would be subjected to the water punishment on the beach. On June 22nd, a procession approached along the rain-blanketed road. The two men, arms bound fast and heads hanging low, were surrounded by guards. The people of the village did not venture out. Arriving at the shore, the officials ordered a fire to be lit so the men could warm their bodies drenched by the rain. With an unwonted sense of pity, someone gave them a cup of sake to drink—a gesture that reminded Rodrigues of the soldier giving vinegar to the dying Christ. Two trees, made into the form of a cross, were set at the water's edge. Mokichi and Ichizo were fastened to them. When night came and the tide rose, their bodies would be immersed in the sea up to the chin. The plan was not for a quick death but for a prolonged suffering of two or even three days, intended to terrify the villagers into abandoning their faith. The officials, leaving four guards to watch, withdrew on horseback.

The Suffering and Death

As the tide came in, the two forms did not move. The waves drenched their feet and lower bodies, surging up the dark shore with a monotonous roar. In the evening, Omatsu and her niece brought food to the guards and asked permission to approach in a small boat. "Mokichi! Mokichi!" cried Omatsu. "What is it?" Mokichi replied. When she called to Ichizo, the aged man could make no answer, though a slight movement of his head showed he was still alive. Omatsu tried to encourage them, saying, "You are suffering terribly; but be patient. Padre and all of us are praying. You will both go to Paradise." But when she tried to put a potato into Mokichi's mouth, he shook his head. "Give it to Ichizo," he said. "Let him eat. I can endure no more." Distraught and tearful, Omatsu and her niece returned to the shore, drenched by the rain, and raised their voices and wept. Night came. The red light of the guards' fire could be seen faintly from the mountain hut. The people of Tomogi gathered on the shore, gazing at the dark sea, not knowing if the men were alive or dead. Then, mingled with the sound of the waves, they heard Mokichi's voice, gaspingly singing a Christian hymn: "We're on our way, we're on our way / We're on our way to the temple of Paradise, / To the temple of Paradise… / To the great Temple…" All listened in silence. On June 24th, the drizzle continued. The shore, enveloped by rain, stretched out wearily. When the tide receded, only the solitary stakes remained, with the two men adhered to them so that it was impossible to distinguish between the stakes and the men. The only indication they were still alive was the dark moaning of a voice which sounded like that of Mokichi. After an hour of silence, the voice was again brought to the ears of the people by the wind—a sound like that of an animal, making the peasants tremble and weep. In the afternoon, the tide came in again; the black, cold color of the sea deepened; the stakes seemed to sink into the water. The white foaming waves, swirling past the stakes, broke on the sand. A white bird, skimming over the surface of the sea, flew far, far away. And with this, all was over.

Aftermath and Rodrigues' Crisis

In the evening, the officials arrived on horseback. At their command, the guards gathered damp pieces of wood and, removing the bodies from the stakes, began to burn them to prevent the Christians from bringing home the remains for veneration. When the bodies were reduced to ashes, they threw them into the sea. The flame flared red and black in the breeze; the smoke flowed over the sandy beach while the people, without the slightest movement, vacantly watched its undulations. Then, heads hanging like cows, they shuffled back to their homes. Rodrigues, writing from his hut, looked down at the sea, the grave of these two Japanese peasants who believed his word. He knew what others would say: that their death was not meaningless, that it was a stone for the foundation of the Church, that they were with the Lord. Yet he could not bear the monotonous sound of the dark sea gnawing at the shore. Behind the depressing silence of the sea, he felt the silence of God—the feeling that while men raise their voices in anguish, God remains with folded arms, silent. This was the martyrdom he had long read about in the lives of the saints, but it was no such glorious thing. It was a miserable and painful business, with the rain falling unceasingly on the sea, and the sea which killed them surging on uncannily in silence. The event directly precipitated Rodrigues' decision to leave Tomogi, separating from Garrpe, and marked the beginning of his own descent into doubt and eventual capture.