Water Punishment of Mokichi and Ichizo

The water punishment of Mokichi and Ichizo is the first martyrdom that Sebastian Rodrigues witnesses in Japan, and it shatters his romanticized vision of a glorious death for the faith. The two peasants from Tomogi, who had sheltered Rodrigues and Francisco Garrpe, are condemned after refusing to apostatize during interrogation at Nagasaki. Their execution is not a swift, triumphant end but a prolonged, agonizing ordeal by tidal drowning, designed by the authorities as a public spectacle to terrorize the Christian community. The event marks a decisive turning point for Rodrigues, forcing him to confront the unbearable silence of God in the face of innocent suffering and to question the very meaning of his mission.

Background and Arrest

The water punishment follows directly from the investigation that began on June 5th, when officials raided Tomogi and took the village elder, the Jiisama, as a hostage. On June 8th, a smiling old samurai returned, demanding three more hostages. Mokichi and Ichizo, along with Kichijiro, volunteered to go to the magistrate's office at Sakuradai. During interrogation, the three were ordered to trample on the fumie. Following Rodrigues's own advice, Kichijiro was the first to place his foot on the image of the Virgin and Child, and Mokichi and Ichizo did likewise. However, the officials, following a plan devised by Inoue, were not fooled by their outward compliance. They noticed the heavy, nervous breathing of the two men and ordered them to spit on the crucifix and declare the Blessed Virgin a whore. Kichijiro, overcome by threats, gasped out the required blasphemy. But Mokichi and Ichizo could not bring themselves to do it. A white tear overflowed from Mokichi's eye, and both men finally confessed openly that they were Christians. They were imprisoned for ten days, while Kichijiro, having apostatized, was set free and disappeared.

The Execution

On June 20th, the officials returned to 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, their arms bound and heads hanging low, were surrounded by guards. At the shore, the officials ordered a fire to be lit so the condemned could warm their rain-drenched bodies, and someone gave them a cup of sake, an act that reminded Rodrigues of the soldier offering vinegar to Christ on the cross. Two trees, made into the form of a cross, were set at the water's edge. Mokichi and Ichizo were fastened to them. The plan was that when the tide came in, their bodies would be immersed up to the chin. They would not die at once, but after two or even three days of utter physical and mental exhaustion, they would cease to breathe. The authorities intended for the people of Tomogi and neighboring villages to witness this prolonged suffering as a deterrent. The onlookers gradually departed, leaving only four guards. The tide came in, drenching the feet and lower half of their bodies with a monotonous roar.

The Final Days

That evening, Omatsu and her niece brought food to the guards and were permitted to approach the stakes in a small boat. Mokichi was still conscious and refused the potato she offered, saying he could endure no more and telling her to give it to Ichizo. The aged Ichizo could make no answer, only occasionally moving his head. Omatsu and her niece returned to the shore, distraught and weeping. As night fell, the red light of the guards' fire was visible from the mountain hut where Rodrigues and Garrpe hid. The people of Tomogi gathered on the shore, gazing at the dark sea, not knowing if the two 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 to the temple of Paradise." The next day, June 24th, the drizzle continued. The shore was enveloped in rain, and the two men had become indistinguishable from the stakes. The only indication they were still alive was a dark moaning from Mokichi, which sometimes ceased for an hour before returning, carried by the wind. The peasants trembled and wept at the sound, which was like that of an animal. In the afternoon, the tide came in again, and the stakes seemed to sink into the black, cold sea. The white foaming waves swirled past, and a white bird skimmed over the surface. Then all was over.

Aftermath and Rodrigues's Reaction

In the evening, the officials returned on horseback. At their command, the guards gathered damp wood and burned the bodies of Mokichi and Ichizo to prevent the Christians from taking the remains for veneration. When the bodies were reduced to ashes, they were thrown into the sea. The flame flared red and black in the breeze, and the smoke flowed over the sandy beach as the people watched vacantly. Rodrigues, writing from his hut, describes the martyrdom as a miserable and painful business, utterly unlike the glorious visions of saints he had read about. The rain falls unceasingly on the sea, and the sea that killed them surges on uncannily in silence. He is haunted by the memory of Mokichi's exhausted song and the monotonous sound of the dark sea gnawing at the shore. Behind this depressing silence, he feels the silence of God—the feeling that while men raise their voices in anguish, God remains with folded arms, silent. This experience, more than any other, plants the seed of doubt that will later consume him. The event also leads to a split in the village, with some blaming Rodrigues and Garrpe for the disaster, and ultimately forces the two priests to separate and flee.

Thematic Significance

The water punishment of Mokichi and Ichizo is a brutal inversion of the idealized martyrdom Rodrigues had dreamed of. It is not a glorious, triumphant death but a slow, degrading, and public spectacle of suffering. The execution is a calculated act of state terror, designed not just to kill but to break the spirit of the Christian community. The authorities' use of the tide as an instrument of death, the prolonged agony, and the final disposal of the bodies all serve to dehumanize the victims and erase any trace of their sacrifice. For Rodrigues, the event becomes the central crisis of his faith. The silence of God in the face of such innocent suffering is a wound that will not heal, and it directly leads to his later apostasy. The hymn Mokichi sings, "We're on our way to the temple of Paradise," takes on a dark, sad quality, reflecting the desperate hope of peasants for whom life in this world is too painful. The sea itself becomes a symbol of God's silence, a vast, indifferent force that swallows up the faithful without a word.