Mimizuka (Nose Mound)

Historical Site in Higashiyama Ward, Kyoto

About

In the heart of Kyoto's Higashiyama district, where the whispers of history intertwine with the rustling of ancient trees, there lies a mound that silently bears witness to a tumultuous past. This is the Ear Mound, or Mimi-zuka, a solemn testament to the complexities of human endeavor and the echoes of bygone conflicts.

As one approaches this unassuming hillock, the air seems to thicken with the weight of untold stories. The mound, modest in its elevation, is crowned by a weathered five-tiered stone pagoda, its surfaces etched with the passage of time. Encircling this monument is a stone fence, each post bearing the names of those who, in later years, sought to honor the memories enshrined within.

The origins of this site trace back to the late 16th century, during the era of Toyotomi Hideyoshi, a formidable figure whose ambitions extended beyond the seas. In his campaigns on the Korean Peninsula, known as the Bunroku and Keichō Wars, the practice of collecting the severed ears and noses of fallen adversaries became a grim token of military success. These macabre trophies, preserved in salt, were transported across the waters to Japan, culminating in the creation of this mound in 1597. Initially referred to as the Nose Mound, it was later renamed the Ear Mound, a change attributed to the scholar Hayashi Razan, who perhaps sought a term less jarring to the sensibilities of the time.

The mound's construction was not merely an act of commemoration but also one of contrition. Recognizing the profound loss and suffering inflicted, Hideyoshi ordered a grand memorial service, enlisting 400 monks from Kyoto's esteemed temples to conduct rites for the souls of the departed. This act of penance, however, could not erase the scars left on the hearts of those affected by the wars.

Over the centuries, the Ear Mound has stood as a poignant reminder of the consequences of human ambition and the fragile nature of peace. In 1898, during the 300th anniversary of Hideyoshi's death, the site underwent restoration, and a commemorative stone tablet was erected, inscribed with reflections on the events that led to the mound's creation. The inscriptions speak of the complexities of war, the valor of warriors, and the enduring hope for reconciliation.

Today, the mound resides quietly amidst the bustling city, a stone's throw from the vibrant streets and the serene temples that define Kyoto's landscape. Visitors who chance upon this site are often struck by its understated presence, a stark contrast to the monumental history it represents. The surrounding area, with its blend of traditional architecture and modern life, serves as a backdrop to this silent sentinel of the past.

As the sun casts its golden hues over the city, the Ear Mound stands resilient, a symbol of remembrance and reflection. It invites passersby to pause, to ponder the narratives woven into the fabric of history, and to acknowledge the shared humanity that transcends borders and epochs. In its quietude, the mound speaks volumes, urging us to learn from the past and to strive for a future where such monuments serve only as reminders of lessons well learned.