Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan

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Radical Reforms, Resourceful Rats, and Precarious Princes Aug 16, 2024

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Reform, Rebellion, and Rats! And all in less than a year! This episode we continue to look at the Taika era and the reforms that bear the era's name. We are still covering, though, just the first year or so from the start of the era--through 645 and very early 646. And yet there is a lot going on, some of it as part of the reforms and some of it just the normal international and domestic politics. For more check out https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-109 Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua and this episode 109: Radical Reforms, Resourceful Rats, and Precarious Princes. ----------------- Prince Furubito no Ohoye looked out over the changing autumn leaves of Yoshino. Where the mountains had been painted pink in cherry blossoms just seven months earlier, the mountains were now covered in garments of red, yellow, and orange. Seven months. A lot could happen in seven months. Seven months ago, Prince Furubito had been in line for the throne. His main contender for the position was dead, and he had the support of the most powerful men in the court. Then it had all come crashing down in an instant. After the turmoil of the court earlier in the year, life in the countryside was no doubt a welcome respite. The former Crown Prince had narrowly avoided sharing in the fate of his Soga relatives, who had been killed in front of him. Furubito was no stranger to the literally cutthroat politics of the day. Soga no Iruka had killed Yamashiro no Ohoye, son of Shotoku Taishi, ostensibly to place Furubito on the throne, no doubt with the expectation that the Soga descended prince would be easier to control. Furubito himself had not been entirely out of the loop on that whole thing, either, specifically advising Iruka that he should make sure to send subordinates to do the dirty work and keep himself out of harm's way. Now Furubito's seemingly untouchable supporters, Soga no Iruka and his father, were, themselves, dead at the hands of Furubito's younger brother, Prince Naka no Ohoye. Their mother, Takara, had immediately abdicated, and Prince Furubito was suddenly in the crosshairs, potentially standing between his murderous brother and the throne. And so he took himself out of the picture and retired, becoming a monk at a temple in Yoshino, a mostly wild area south of Asuka and the traditional heartland of Yamato, where sovereigns of the past had sometimes gone to get away. Furubito had spent the last several months there in the mountains, out of the political center, but that didn't mean he was completely on his own. Not everyone was against him, and he still had people bringing him news. He may have retired from the world, but he wasn't without his resources. And there were those still in his camp, who thought he should be on the throne. They just had to keep it under wraps until it was too late for Prince Naka and his cohorts to do anything about it. So, with that little snapshot of life in Yoshino, let's get into it. We're talking about the Taika era, so let's first start out with a recap of last episode and some things to keep in mind, and then continue with the story of the reforms, looking at what else was happening in that first year, as well. We'll talk about the diplomatic missions from the Korean peninsula, the edicts focused on the Yamato elite and the clergy, as well as the strategic use of the change in the capital. We'll also address just what happened with the "other" crown prince, Furubito no Ohoye. First off, let's quickly recap: So last episode we started talking about the Taika era and the Taika reforms. In particular, we looked at how the governance of the archipelago had changed—as best as we can tell, at least, from the evidence available to us—and we looked at some of the very first edicts that went out. According to the Nihon Shoki, things started with the appointment of the Ministers of the Left and Right, the Sadaijin and the Udaijin. As later institutions were created, these ministers would each take a portion of those institutions into their portfolio, effectively dividing the management of the government. Although the Sadaijin, or Minister of the Left, was considered senior to the Udaijin, the Minister of the Right, at least in later years, it should be noted that this system would prevent, at least on paper, a single prime minister from taking the reigns of the entire government, as the Soga seem to have largely done. Presumably this meant that the sovereign, as head of state, would have the ultimate authority over the realm. Still, from the very get-go, we see that there are positions set up outside of this dynamic. For one thing, you have the creation of the seemingly nebulous "Naidaijin". This is interpreted as the Minister of the Interior, meaning inside the royal house, and it was first granted to Naka no Ohoye's bro and best bud, Nakatomi no Kamatari—the co-conspirator who had helped make all this possible in the first place. While the Sadaijin and Udaijin nominally had most of the power—and we see them referenced executing that power on a not infrequent basis—the position of Naidaijin appears to be almost extra-numerary, and is rarely mentioned, and yet he seemed to have wielded considerable power and influence. This pattern of creating or using positions to exalt a singular individual, who would effectively run the affairs of state, is something that we'll see repeated multiple times in the future. Whether this positionwas something like dajo daijin or kampaku, powerful individuals would often find their way, regardless of the bureaucratic norms. In addition to the Naidaijin, however, the position of the royal princes—especially the Crown Prince—seem to be untouched. These were another class of elites often with wealth and influence, but who are largely outside the system of court ministers. In fact, the bureaucratic system of government only really covered those positions by the so-called "commoner" families—elite families that nonetheless were not considered to be in a direct line of succession for the throne. These were the members of the various be and uji corporate families that were created to serve the Yamato government. After all, you don't hear of Royal princes taking on the position of a minister or anything similar, and presumably they managed their own affairs and estates as members of the extended royal family, with the sovereign as the familial head. And then there were the peasants—the agricultural workers and truly common people who were so far removed from court business that they weren't even part of an uji clan or official familial unit other than their village, serfs or semi-free people—as free as anyone was in those days, though they were likely tied to the land by tradition and necessity—who owed service to some group of elites. One of the things we are seeing in these reforms is a move to redirect the responsibilities of those serfs and semi-free people more directly to the state, with edicts directly addressing their status and their responsibilities. That's something we'll talk about more as it comes up. But before that, let's get caught up on some other things happening in the first few months of the Taika era. Sure, Naka no Oe and Kamatari were working closely with our sovereign, Karu—aka Koutoku Tennou—to get their reforms in place. As we talked about last episode, they were sending out governors, hanging bells outside of the palace, and otherwise trying out all kinds of new stuff. However, as that was going on, they still had to deal with the day to day of the government. Life didn't just stop while they ramped up their transition to a new, bureaucratic monarchy. One such routine event for a new reign was the designation of Karu's wife, Hashibito, as the queen. In the fine Yamato tradition of keeping it all in the family, Hashibito was Karu's niece, the daughter of Karu's sister, Takara, aka Kougyoku Tennou, and her late husband, the sovereign Tamura, aka Joumei Tennou. That made Hashibito a sister to Prince Naka no Oe, who was now his uncle's brother-in-law and, since he was named Crown Prince, his heir. Probably don't think about it too much. There was also the matter of foreign envoys. As you may recall, the murder of Soga no Iruka and his father, known to us as the Isshi Incident, kicked off during a court reception for peninsular envoys. Two months later, we are told that envoys from Baekje, Goguryeo, and Silla all arrived with tribute. These appear to be separate from those who had witnessed Naka no Oe's bloody coup d'etat, and given the time it took to travel, they may have already been on their way when everything went down. They arrived in the 7th month of the year, not quite a full month since Karu had taken the throne. This might have been a regular visit, but we get some interesting information from the Chronicles about it. Kose no Tokuda no Omi addressed the envoys, at least those of Goguryeo and Baekje. Although it is also noted that Silla envoys arrived as well, communications with them are not recorded. There was also a slight problem in that one of the envoys (whose name Aston transcribes as "Chaphyong Yonbok", suggesting that he was actually the Minister of the Left, Yonbok) apparently traveled all the way to Yamato just to come down with an illness. He stayed at Naniwa and rested while the other envoys made the journey onward, presumably to the palace in Asuka, where the court received the tribute. As for Goguryeo, Kose notes that Yamato and Goguryeo had not had formal relations for very long. This is unsurprising, given that Goguryeo was on the far north of the peninsula, and would have had to go through either Silla or Baekje controlled territory to get to Yamato, and they weren't always on the best of terms with either of the other countries on the peninsula. There were some attempts to reach the archipelago by landing on the northern edge of Honshu, along the Japan sea coast, landing near Tsuruga, on the western edge of the land of Koshi, but still, Yamato's relationship with Goguryeo does not appear to have been as old or as consistent as Yamato's dealings with their less distant neighbors. Tokuda, the Yamato officer addressing the Goguryeo envoys, wished for long and continued interactions, but that was about it. Baekje, though, was another story, and a bit of a conflicting one. The speech that Tokuda gives according to the Chronicles is likely heavily edited to sound more regal and to be in line with the Chroniclers' ideas of Japan's place in the world, but it is also possible that they were just using flowery, continental style pronouncements. It starts off with the somewhat audacious statement that Karu is a God-incarnate, which tracks with the idea that he is descended from the Heavenly Grandson, who came down from Takama no Hara. This same language was used with Goguryeo, earlier. Then Tokuda repeats the claim that Baekje is a vassal state of Yamato, claiming that they were considered an "internal Miyake", likely referring to a land that was supposed to be directly controlled by Yamato. One is left to wonder just how Baekje felt about all of this, but then again, things may have been lost in translation from one court to the other. Finally, Baekje was admonished for not bringing sufficient tribute from Nimna, since it had theoretically been placed under Baekje's care. And here's where I see some conflicting information. After all, we know that Silla had absorbed Nimna well before this period, and Silla had been made to bring two ships during tribute missions or to meet the Yamato delegation with two ships to preserve at least the fiction that Nimna was still an independent country and ally to the archipelago. That was all back in the reign of Kashikiya Hime, aka Suiko Tennou, or earlier . Of course Baekje would not have any tribute from Nimna, and yet the Yamato court seem to have expected something unless, of course, they were just putting on some kind of show for Silla's sake? It seems like the matter of Nimna, which was no longer a going concern on the peninsula, was still something that Yamato was keeping front and center in their mind. Whatever the logic, Tokuda says that the sovereign pays special attention to the tribute from Nimna, and as it was deficient, they returned the tribute back to Baekje until they could bring the expected amount. There is plenty of ink that has been spilt on the subject of the diplomatic tribute systems that were set up across East Asia, largely as part of or in imitation of those systems set up by dynasties like the Han and the Tang. As we understand it, diplomats were expected to come to a foreign sovereign's courts as petitioners, bringing with them "tribute"—basically trade goods—to grease the wheels of international relations. The receiving country would reciprocate with lavish gifts on the envoys, in turn, often in excess of the "tribute" they had brought—at least, that is how the central Sinic dynasties operated. In this way, diplomatic missions were not only profitable for international relations, but also for acquiring elite goods that could not easily be otherwise obtained, and for that, envoys were willing to go along with the polite fiction that they were truly subordinate to the power they entreated. It is unclear whether or not this went both ways. I suspect that the Han or Tang dynasties would not have accepted the idea that their own ambassadors would be bringing tribute to any "lesser" nation. However, amongst nations like Yamato, Baekje, Silla, and Goguryeo, were there similar concerns? Unfortunately, we don't really have a clear, contemporary record of these interactions, and can only make assumptions based on what sources do exist. I suspect, however, that Baekje, though willing to indulge Yamato's fantasies, did not actually consider itself an "inner miyake" of Yamato—though they were a trusted ally. Most of the time. Which makes me wonder how they took such a snub. Unfortunately, both Baekje and Yamato sources appear to be quiet on that front. The envoys did not leave empty-handed, however. They sent away the wife and children of a man identified as "Wisa"—likely hostages being held at the Yamato court as part of the other diplomatic system between Baekje and Yamato. We are not told why, however, so we are left only to speculate on what actually happened. Later that month, and into the next, the reforms were really kicked off, sending out the governors to the eastern provinces and proclaiming some of the early edicts we talked about last month And while the court was waiting for news to come back from those governors, there was another issue that they were tackling, and that was further incorporating the Buddhist clergy and temples into the state government. Yeah, if you hadn't already guessed, Yamato at this time didn't exactly have a principle of the separation of church—or in this case temple—and state. In fact, quite the opposite. For a little over two decades at this point the court had assumed the authority to appoint individuals at the head of the Buddhist clergy, presumably to keep them in line ever since that one incident with the axe—and if you want a reminder, check out Episode 102. And so a messenger was sent from the court to Kudara-dera to gather all of the clergy there. That was the temple near where Tamura had built his palace, Kudara no Miya, and it reportedly had an absolutely jaw-dropping pagoda, so perhaps little wonder that it was a central location. After recounting the history of Buddhism in the archipelago, the court representative appointed chief priests to ten different temples, a…

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The Great Change Aug 01, 2024

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We are finally starting to get into the Taika era and the Taika reforms, which would really start the transformation of Yamato into the bureaucratic state of the Nara period. This episode, we look back at how the Yamato state had been changing up to this point, some of the possible influences and precursors, and then dive into some of the first edicts, largely dealing with sending out governors to the provinces. These governors, or "kokushi", were originally temporary positions, limited in what they could do. More info over at https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-108 Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua and this is Episode 108: The Great Change ……………….. The Kuni no Miyatsuko, hereditary leader of his lands, likely heard the news before they arrived. Apparently Yamato was sending out an official—a kokushi—who was going to be doing some sort of survey. Whatever. Just another person from Yamato's court—what did it matter? His family had been in charge of the local lands for as long as anyone remembered, and while they might give nominal fealty to the Oho-kimi in Yamato, along with the occasional bit of taxes, paid in rice, what consequence was it to him? Some might say he was a big fish in a small pond, but it was his pond. Always had been, and always would be. Wouldn't it? ……………….. And we are back with our regular chronological podcast, and we are finally going to pick back up on the fall out from the events of 645, the Isshi Incident, when Prince Naka no Oe orchestrated the murder of Soga no Iruka, and later his father, Soga no Emishi, in full view of the court, including his mother, Takara, aka Kougyoku Tennou. That incident would be the start of Naka no Oe's own rise to power and the reshaping of Yamato from the its longstanding clan based system of government to a new national government of laws and punishments, known generally as the Ritsuryo system. This episode we'll dive into this new system and the so-called "Taika reforms" that brought it about, the changes it ushered in, and the ripples this sent throughout the entire archipelago. The term "Taika" itself means "Great Change", and it isn't clear to me if it was picked because they expected to be making big changes or after the fact, but in the minds of most Japanese historians it is quite accurate. The entire system actually took about a century or so to really come together—we often think of the Ritsuryo system as it was in its final version. This period, though, is where things kicked off, so we'll be setting the stage and talking about some of the edicts during this period that eventually became the written code of the Ritsuryo system. This was started by Naka no Oe who, spoiler alert, would eventually reign as sovereign and be known as Tenchi Tennou. The system he helps put into place would continue to be used and refined even after his death and even after the end of the period covered by the Nihon Shoki. So after some background, we'll get to some of the very first edicts this episode, and then spend more time on them again, in the future. The RitsuryoThe Ritsuryo system was based largely on continental models, with Confucian ideals and the legal code of the Tang dynasty having particular influence. And as we discuss these changes, which were huge, I'll start with some clarifications and caveats. This was a system of government based largely on continental models, with Confucian ideals and the legal code of the Tang dynasty having particular influence. That One of the first things to emphasize is that said, itthis wasn't exactly an immediate revolution and reformation. Based on the entries in the Nihon Shoki, some of the work had already been started long before Naka no Oe came on the scene, largely attributed to the influence of Prince Umayado, aka Shotoku Taishi, and things like the 17 article constitution and rank system, which we discussed back in episode 95. And even after its initial implementation, there would come various tweaks to the system. Although there are numerous edicts made in the initial years of what is known as the Taika era, leading this change to often be given the nickname of the "Taika reforms", the earliest formal administrative codes would come much later, firming up in the 8th century. Another thing to keep in mind as we realize, as we start looking at these changes is that the Yamato courtit didn't necessarily discard the old system, either. Changes like this take time, and something even if it is implemented for a year or two , it might not stick. This is one of the reasons that it is important that two of the apparent architects of the new system for these changes were there present through much of its implementation, actively guiding and shaping the process direction that the changes would take. These two individuals at wereas Prince Naka no Oe and Nakatomi no Kamako, later known in this reign as Kamatari, which is the name I'm going to use from here on out as it is the much more well known in case anyone decides to look up information later. Finally, I would also note that many of these changes were being applied at the level of the elites of society, how they organized power and how they approached governance – but we should also spare a thought for how this affected the majority of people. After all, it was the majority of people who were working the fields, cutting the wood, or fishing the seas. The elites were often otherwise engaged, and whichthat isn't to say that they did nothing. Often they were coordinating and bringing things together, but that was a smaller part of the overall population. In these reforms we get to see some rare glimpses into how all of thisit may have affected people beyond just the court elites. To set this up, let's start with a look at what brought us here, and how things changed over time and how they had governed things up until now—or at least as best as we can make out from our various sources. From there we can take a look at some of the earliest edicts related to the changes evolution in the government, focusing how they focused on consolidating the power and support at the center of the Yamato court and starteding to make more concrete Yamato's control across the rest of the archipelago. We've covered much of the development of complex society in Yamato this in previous episodes: How Yayoi society came with or at least introduced a form of stratification evident in graves, grave goods, as well as other patterns of lifeways. Local elites rose up to oversee communities, and eventually extended their influence, creating the various "kuni", or countries—regional collections of communities that came together under a leadership structure and some shared cultural values. Some of the earliest stories give us the Hiko-Hime leadership structure, often with a male and female head of state, though sometimes shown as elder and younger co-rulers. This is backed up by some evidence in the kofun era, as we see large, single-purpose tomb mounds built for what we can only assume are the elite. Their construction would have required control of a large labor force, indicating a certain amount of their power, and their shape and various burial goods have further suggested, at least to scholars like Kishimoto, that there may have been a division of rulership, at least early on. We've talked about the spread of Yamato style round keyhole shaped kofun through the archipelago and how the popularity of that kofun shape demonstrated Yamato's influence but in the shape of their kofun, but that didn't necessarily accompany a change in change the actual dynamics of local government, other than demonstrating Yamato's increased influence. The next thing we see in the record, I would argue, is the change to a familial based system, or the Bemin-sei. This is what we've talked about periodically in terms of both the uji, familial groups or clans, and the "be" familial or occupational groups, but here I'll give an overview of the whole practice and what its development means in the sense of changing approaches to organizing and governing a complex society. The Bemin system was a means of further dividing and categorizing people in society, . It is rooted in continental concepts of a familial group. Prior to the 5th century, there isn't a clear indication of familial clans in Yamato, though that doesn't mean people didn't know where they were from. They still remembered who their ancestors were, and that was important, often tracing back to mythical and legendary individuals who are recorded as gods, or kami. I suspect, however, that in the smaller communities of the Yayoi period, where you were from was as a good an indicator of your relationships as anything else. Farming is a pretty sedentary lifestyle, and if you know all of your neighbors there isn't as much need to divide each other up into specific familial groups. It was more important that I'm from this village or region than I'm from this particular family. And so the oldest stories in the Nihon Shoki and the Kojiki only refer to individuals by their names or by locatives. Occasionally we will be told that so-and-so was an ancestor of this or that uji, or clan, but it is telling that they don't use the clan name with that person. Surnames do become important, however, in the Bemin system. But they are only really important for those in the upper tiers of society. Amongst the farmers and other commoners—the heimin—you often won't find specific surnames, or people will use pure locatives or something similar to refer to a person. Surnames were for people a little further up the social food chain. From what we can tell, the uji structure likely started with the "-Be" families, trying to set up groups of individuals who were in charge of certain economic activities beyond just farming the land. The Imbe, the Mononobe, the Abe, the Kuratsukuribe, and the Kusakabe are all examples of family names ending in "-Be". Some, like Kuratsukuribe, Inukaibe, and Umakaibe are all fairly straightforward: These are groups that were set up around particular industries. Kuratsukuri literally means "saddle-making", so the Kuratsukuri-be are the saddlemakers. Inukai and Umakai refer to the ones who kept or raised the dogs and horses. Setting up a familial or clan unit around a certain profession was one way of organizing society so that you had the things that you needed. Such jobs were often inherited, anyway, passing from father to son, mother to daughter, etc. So it makes some sense. And the clan, or uji, structure meant that there was a person or persons at the head of the familial unit who could be responsible for coordinating efforts across different, sometimes dispersed, groups of people. The thing is, there is no indication that the people in these professions were necessarily related to each other prior to this organization, and in many ways the idea that they were a family with a common ancestor was a created fiction. There may have been some relationship—for instance, weaver groups were often centered on immigrant groups that came over from the continent with knowledge of specific techniques, so there was likely some pre-existing relationship, but they weren't necessarily what we would consider family, related by blood, to one another. Over time these groups became actual clans—children were born into them and remained, unless they specifically were split off into a different uji for some reason. Some of them dropped the "-Be" part of their name—in some instances it seems this may have created a distinction between the line at the head of the clan vice the other members, but that distinction isn't entirely clear. Furthermore, members of these clans were not, ultimately, restricted to the hereditary jobs for which the clan had been created. There are also clans that appear to be more about location, possibly local rulers or magnates. For example, there are the Munakata and the Miwa, referring to local chiefs or lords of the Munakata and Miwa areas, both important ritual areas. The clans formed another function as well, as each clan had a kabane, which was an early form of social rank. Some of these ranks appear to have come from titles or positions. So, for instance, you have the Omi, the Muraji, the Kimi, and the Atahe. Early on, Muraji appears to be the more prestigious title, with the Ohomuraji being the head of a Muraji level house that was also a key member of the government. Omi, meaning minister, eventually came to be seen as more prestigious, however. Meanwhile, both were more presitiousprestigious than the term "Kimi", although that may have originated as a term for the rulers of the local countries, which makes sense if you consider that the Yamato sovereign was the Oho-kimi, or the Great Kimi, much as the Oho-omi was in charge of an Omi group and the Ohomuraji was in charge of a Muraji level house. There are also Omi and Muraji households for whom there is no Oho-omi or Oho-muraji ever mentioned, but only members of the Omi and Muraji ranked families were considered for positions at the top of the court hierarchy. This All of this clan and rank system began to change in the 6th century during the reign of Toyomike Kashikiya Hime, aka Suiko Tenno, with the introduction of the 17 article constitution and new rank system. While both of these developments are of debatable veracity, since the chroniclers likely made this change seem much more structured than it actually was in practice, —there is probably at least something to the idea that the Yamato court y werewas adopting more continental ideas regarding state governance. The rank system, in particular, was a step towards recognizing individuals above simply their inherited social position. While kabane rank was applied to an entire uji, the new rank was applied to individuals alone, meaning that an individual could be recognized without necessarily rewarding every other person holding their same surname. At the same time, more and more books were coming in from the continent. Some of these were focused on the new Buddhist religion, but there were also other works, based on a variety of subjects and introducing the Yamato court to some of the philosophical ideas of what government should be. And then there were various envoys sent to the Sui and Tang courts in the early 7th century, where they would have seen how things were working there. Nonetheless, to be clear, we don't know it is unclear just how far Yamato control extended across the archipelago. We know that in the 5th century there were individuals who considered themselves part of the Yamato court structure from the Kantou to Kyuushuu. In the Nihon Shoki, we also see the establishment of Miyake up and down the archipelago, from as far out as Kamitsukenu, aka Kozuke, to the western edge of Kyushu, in the early 6th century. These were areas of rice-land which owed their output to the Yamato court or a particular endeavor. They would have had officials there tied to the court to oversee the miyake, providing a local court presence, but how much this translated into direct Yamato control is hard to say. Then there is the Dazai , the Yamato outpost in Kyushu, set up in the area of Tsukushi, modern Fukuoka Prefecture, largely following the Iwai Rebellion, and which we . We talked about this some in the Gishiwajinden Tour episode about Ito and Na, extending a more directand how the Yamato government extended a more direct, and explicitly military, presence in Kyushu. Still, the individual lands of places like Hi, Toyo, Kibi, Owari, or Musashi were all governed by the Kuni no Miyatsuko, the Yamato court…

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Ito-koku and Na-koku Jul 16, 2024

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Ito-koku and Na-koku were the next two countries on the path of the Wei envoys noted in the Gishiwajinden. They likely refer to the areas known today as Itoshima and Fukuoka, so what do we know about these places in the Yayoi period, and how is it that by the 3rd century Yamato seemed to have taken the foremost position on the archipelago and not one of these other countries, where wet paddy rice agriculture and other continental technologies first arrived in the archipelago. For more see our podcast blog post at: https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/itoandna Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua, and this is Gishiwajinden Part Five: Ito-koku and Na-koku This episode we are finishing up our Gishiwajinden Tour, focusing on our journey to Ito-koku and Na-koku, or modern day Itoshima and Fukuoka. We'll talk about what we know from the records of these two areas in the Yayoi and early Kofun periods, and then look at some of the later history, with the development of the Dazaifu, the build up of Hakata and Fukuoka, and more. A key thread through all of this will be our discussion about why it was Yamato, and not these early states, who eventually became paramount. If this is where things like wet paddy rice agriculture started, and they had such close ties to the continent, including sending a mission to the Han dynasty, why did the political center shift over to Yamato, instead? It is certainly something to wonder about, and without anything written down by the elites of Na and Ito we can only really guess based on what we see in the histories and the archaeological record. We ended our tour in Na for a reason: while the Gishiwajinden—the Japanese section of the Wei Chronicles—describes the trip from the continent all the way to Yamatai, the locations beyond Na are largely conjecture. Did ancient travelers continue from Na along the Japan Sea coast up to Izumo and then travel down somewhere between Izumo and Tsuruga to the Nara Basin? Or did they travel the Inland Sea Route, with its calmer waters but greater susceptibility to pirates that could hide amongst the various islands and coves? Or was Yamatai on the island of Kyushu, and perhaps the name just happens to sound similar to the Yamato of Nara? Unfortunately, the Wei Chronicles have more than a few problems with accuracy, including problems with directions, meaning that at most we have some confidence in the locations out to "Na", but beyond that it gets more complicated. And even "Na" has some questions, but we'll get to that later. Unlike the other points on our journey, we didn't stay overnight at "Ito-koku", , and we only briefly stayed at Na—modern Fukuoka, but I'll still try to give an account of what was going on in both places, and drawing on some past visits to the area to fill in the gaps for you. Both the Na and Ito sites are believed to be in the modern Fukuoka prefecture, in Itoshima and Fukuoka cities. Fukuoka prefecture itself actually spans all the way up to the Shimonoseki straits and includes the old territory of Tsukushi—Chikuzen and Chikugo—as well as the westernmost part of Buzen, the "closer" part of the old land of "Toyo" on the Seto Inland Sea side of Kyushu. When it comes to locating the country of Ito-koku, we have lots of clues from current place names. The modern Itoshima peninsula, which, in old records, was known as the country of Ito, and was later divided into the districts of Ito and Shima. Shima district, at the end of the peninsula, may have once been an island—or nearly so. It is thought that there was a waterway between the two areas, stretching from Funakoshi bay in the south to Imazu Bay, in the north, in Fukuoka proper. Over time this area was filled in with deposits from the local rivers, making it perfect for the Yayoi style wet rice paddy agriculture that was the hallmark of the growth in that period. And indeed there are certainly plenty of Yayoi and Kofun era ruins in the area, especially in eastern reaches of the modern city of Itoshima, which reside in the valley that backs up to Mt. Raizan. There you can find the Ito-koku History Museum, which tells much of the story of Ito. The Weizhi, or the Wei Chronicles, note that Ito-koku had roughly a thousand households, with various officials under their own Queen, making it one of the few Wa countries that the Chroniclers specifically noted as being a "kingdom", though still under the nominal hegemony of the queen of Yamatai or Yamateg. If you continue eastward along the coast from Itoshima, you next hit Nishi-ku, the Western Ward, of modern Fukuoka city, which now continues to sprawl around Hakata Bay. Nishi-ku itself used to also be known as "Ito", though spelled slightly differently, and you can still find Ito Shrine in the area. So was this part of Ito-koku also? It's very possible. Na-koku, or the country of Na, was probably on the eastern edge of modern Fukuoka, perhaps around the area known as Hakata down to modern Kasuga. Much like in Karatsu, this area features some of the earliest rice fields ever found in Japan – in this case, in the Itazuke neighborhood, just south of Fukuoka airport. The land here is mostly flat, alluvial plains, formed by the rivers that empty out into Hakata Bay, another great area for early rice agriculture. Locating the country of Na is interesting for several reasons. For one, unlike all of the other Wei Chronicles sites we've mentioned, there is no clear surviving placename that obviously matches up between "Na" and the local area. It is a short enough name that it may simply be difficult to distinguish which "Na" is meant, though there is a "Naka" district in Kasuga that may show some promise. There certainly is evidence for a sizeable settlement, but that's much more tenuous than the placenames for other areas, which remained largely in use in some form up to the modern day, it would seem. The name "Na" shows up in more than just the Weizhi, and it is also mentiond in the Houhan-shu, or the Record of the Later Han, a work compiled later than the Weizhi, but using older records from the Late Han dynasty period. There it is asserted that the country of Na was one of the 99 some-odd countries of Wa, and they sent an embassy to the Later Han court, where they received a gold seal made out to the "King of Na of Wa". We talked about this in Episode 10: The Islands of the Immortals: That seal, made of gold, was seemingly found in the Edo period—1784, to be precise. A farmer claimed to have found it on Shika island, in Hakata Bay, which is quite prominent, and connected to the mainland with a periodically-submerged causeway. The description of the find—in a box made up of stones, with a large stone on top that required at least two men to move it—seems like it could have been an old burial of some kind. The island certainly makes sense as an elite burial site, overlooking Hakata Bay, which was likely an important feature of the lifeways of the community. While there have been questions about the authenticity of the seal, if it is a forgery, it is quite well done. It looks similar to other Han era seals, and we don't really have a way to date the gold it is made of. Without the actual context we can't be quite sure. This certainly seems like pretty strong evidence of the country of Na in this area, somewhere – probably not on the island itself, then close by.So unless something else comes along, I think we can say that this is at least the vicinity of the old country of Na. Okay, so now that we've talked in general about where these two places were, let's go back and look at them in more detail. The Ito-koku site is just up the coast from where we stayed for Matsuro-koku, in Karatsu, which all makes sense from the position of the Chronicles in that it says the early envoys traveled overland from one place to the other. Of course it also says they traveled southeast, which is not correct as the route is actually northeast. However, they had traveled southeast from the Korean peninsula to Tsushima and then Iki and Matsuro, so that direction was well established, and this is an easy enough error that could have been made by the actual envoys or by later scribes, as it would be a one character difference. For Ito-koku, as with Matsuro-koku, we have no large, reconstructed sites similar to Harunotsuji on Iki or Yoshinogari, further inland in Saga prefecture, where we have an entire, large, so-called "kingly" settlement. There is evidence of settlements, though, both near the major burial sites as well as around the peninsula. And as for those burial sites, well, Ito has a few, and they aren't merely important because of their size. Size is often an indication of the amount of labor that a leader must have been able to mobilize, and so it can be used to get a general sense of the power that a given leader or system was able to wield, as they could presumably turn that labor to other users as well. However, it is also important to look at other factors, like burial goods. What kind of elite material was the community giving up and placing with the deceased? That is the case with the first site we'll discuss, the Hirabaru burial mound. At first glance it isn't much—a relatively unassuming square mound, about 12 by 14 meters, and less than 2 meters in height. It was discovered in 1965 by a farmer who started digging a trench to plant an orchard and started pulling up broken pieces of a bronze mirror, one of the first clues that this was someone important. They later found various post holes around the site, suggesting that it was more than just an earthen mound, and as they excavated the site they found pottery, beads, mirrors, and more. Let's start with those post-holes. It looks like there was at least one large pillar set up due east of the burial. We don't know how tall it was, but it was likely of some height given the size of the pillar hole—I've seen some estimates that it could have been up to 70 meters tall. A tall pole would have provided visibility, and it may also be significant that it was east, in the direction of the rising sun. We know that the ancient Wa had a particular connection with the sun, and this may be further evidence of that. There are other holes that may be a gate, and possible a storehouse nearby, presumably for various ritual items, etc. Suddenly, even without knowing exactly what was there, we start to see a picture of a large, manmade complex that seems to be centered on this burial and whomever is there. On top of that, there was a mirror in the tomb that was larger than any other ever found in Japan at that time—certainly the largest round mirror of that period. It is not one of the triangular rimmed mirrors that Yamato is known for, but may have been part of another large cache brought over from the mainland. About 40 mirrors in total, many of them very large, were found buried in the tomb, some of which appear to have been broken for some reason. Furthermore, the large mirrors appear to fit within the dimensions given the Great Mirror—the Yata no kagami—housed at the sacred Ise Shrine. There is a document in 804, the "Koutai Jingu Gishiki Chou", detailing the rituals of Ise shrine, which describes the sacred mirror sitting in a box with an inner diameter of 1 shaku, 6 sun, and 3 bu, or approximately 49.4 centimeters, at least using modern conversions. The same measurements are given in the 10th century Engi Shiki. So we can assume that the mirror in Ise, which nobody is allowed to actually see, let alone measure, is smaller than that, but not by much, as the box would have been made to fit the mirror, specifically. It isn't like you can just grab a box from Mirror Depot. The mirrors found at Hirabaru Mound measure 46.5 centimeters, and have a floral pattern with an eight petaled flower on the back. Could this mirror be from the same mold or the same cache, at least, as the sacred mirror at Ise? At the very least, they would seem to be of comparable value. In addition, there were many beads, jars, etc. Noticeably absent from the burial were swords and weapons. Based on this, some have argued that this was the burial of a queen of Ito-koku. There is evidence that this may be the case, but I don't think the presence of weapons, or the lack thereof, is necessarily a good indicator. After all, we see in the old stories that women were also found wielding swords and leading troops into battle. So it's dangerous to make assumptions about gender based on this aspect alone. I wonder if the Hirabaru tomb assemblage might have more to do with something else we see in Yamato and which was likely applicable elsewhere in the archipelago: a system of co-rulership, where one role might have to do more with administrative and/or ritual practice, regardless of gender. This burial assemblage or mirrors and other non-weapons might reflect this kind of position. The Weizhi often mentions "secondary" or "assistant" positions, which may have truly been subordinate to a primary ruler, or could have just been misunderstood by the Wei envoys, who saw everything through their particular cultural stratification. In a similar fashion, early European explorers would often name people "king"—from the daimyo of Sengoku era Japan to Wahunsenacawh, known popularly as "Powhatan" for the name of his people, on what would become known as North America. That isn't to say that these weren't powerful individuals, but the term "king" comes with a lot of Eurocentric assumptions and ideas about power, stratification, etc. Is there any reason to believe that the Wei envoys and later chroniclers were necessarily better at describing other cultures? And of course we don't have any physical remains of the actual individual buried there, either. However, there is a good reason to suggest that this may have been a female ruler, and that *is* because of something in the Weizhi, which specifically says that the people of Ito lived under the rule of a female king, aka a queen, using a description not unlike what is used for Queen Himiko. In fact, Ito gets some special treatment in the record, even though it isn't the largest of the countries. Let's look at those numbers first: Tsushima is said to have 1,000 households, while Iki is more like 3,000. Matsuro is then counted at 4,000 families, but Ito is only said to have 1,000, similar to Tsushima. Just over the mountains and along the Bay, the country of Na is then counted at a whopping 20,000 households, so 20 times as many. These numbers are probably not entirely accurate, but do give an impression of scale, at least. But what distinguishes Ito-koku in this is that we are told that it had a special place for envoys from the Korean peninsula to rest when they came. It makes you wonder about this little place called Ito. Hirabaru is not the only kingly tomb in the area. Walk about 20 to 30 minutes further into the valley, and you might just find a couple of other burials—in particular Mikumo-Minami Shouji, discovered in 1822, and Iwara-Yarimizo, which includes artifacts discovered in the 1780s in the area between Mikumo and Iwara as they were digging a trench. Based on evidence and descriptions, we know that they pulled out more bronze mirrors and other elite goods indicative of the late Yayoi paramounts. In these areas they have also found a number of post holes suggesting other buildings—enough to perhaps have a relatively large settlement. As noted earlier, we do not have a reconstructed village like in Harunotsuji or Yoshinogari, given that these are private fields, so the shape of the ancient landscape isn't as immediately impre…

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Matsuro-koku Jul 01, 2024

Show notes

Moving on with our third part of the Gishiwajinden Tour, we head to the old area of Matsuro, which, for us, means modern Karatsu. Here we have some of the oldest rice paddies in all of Japan, but Karatsu is so much more. It was part of Matsura, where the Matsura family (aka league, factions, or pirates, depending on how you saw it) arose. It is also a short hop from Nagoya, which briefly became the capital of Japan; Nagaoka-kyo gets a mention in the histories, but Nagoya rarely merits it, since it was just the Taiko and every actually important person minus the Tenno. For more photos and others such things, check out: https://www.sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/matsuro-koku/ Rough Transcript: Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua and this is Gishiwajinden Tour, Part Four: Matsuro-koku So far on this tour through the locations listed in the Weizhi's Wa Record, the Gishiwajinden, following the route to Queen Himiko of Wa, we've hit the area of Gaya, or Gara; Tsushima—or Tuma-koku; Iki, aka Iki-koku; and now we are arriving at Karatsu, thought to be the location of Maturo-koku. Now before we go any further, let's talk about the name. After all, up to this point in the account, the names haven't been too far off. Well, Tsushima was recorded as something like Tuma in the Chinese record, which seems reasonable, and "Iki" was actually recorded as something like "I-dai", though we are pretty sure that was a transcription error based on other evidence. But Karatsu and Maturo, really don't seem related. Also, didn't we earlier equate Matsuro with Matsuura, Matsura? But if you look for Matsuura on a map it is quite some distance away from Karatsu—in fact, it is in modern Nagasaki prefecture as opposed to Karatsu, which is in modern Saga prefecture. First off, Karatsu is a later name for the city, not the area. It literally means "Tang Port", and that name seems to appear in the 15th century in the form of Karatsu Jinja, or Karatsu Shrine. So no, the names Karatsu and Matsuro are not related. Prior to being called Karatsu, though, it was part of a larger area called Matsura. It sits at the head of the Matsura River, which spills out into what is now called Karatsu Bay. In ancient times this seems to have been the heart of the area known as Matsura or Matsuro. Over time it was incorporated into the larger area known as Hi no Kuni, and when Hi no Kuni was divided up by the Ritsuryo state into Hizen and Higo, we see the Matsura district, or Matsura-gun, is a part, along the coast. The fact that it is spelled as "Matsu" and "Ura", meaning "pine beach", might hint at the original name of the place or could be a false etymology, imposed by the need to record the location in kanji, the Sinitic characters used at the time. Fun fact time: Hizen refers to the area of the land of Hi that was closer to Yamato, while Higo refers to the area of the land of Hi that was further away. If you look at a modern map of where these two ancient provinces were, however, you'll notice that by a slight technicality, Higo is actually closer, as the crow flies. But remember, people are not crows, at least not in this life, and in all likelihood, most of the travel to and from Yamato would have been via sea routes. So Hizen is closer to Yamato from that perspective, as you would have to sail from Higo, around Hizen, or take the long way south around Kagoshima. But where were we? So Matsura district in Hizen started at Matsura-gawa and the area around Karatsu bay, and included modern areas of Hirado all the way out to the Goto islands. That was a pretty large area. It later got further subdivided into East, West, North, and South Matsura subdistricts, with Karatsu in the Eastern subdistrict, and some portion of the west. Eventually, Karatsu city became its own administrative district, in modern Saga prefecture, and so did Hirado city, in what was the old Northern Matsura sub-district, joining Nagasaki prefecture. The western sub-district went to Karatsu or incorporated as Imari, known for their Imari-ware pottery. And that left a small portion of the northern sub-district. The incorporated villages and islands eventually came together as Matsuura city, in Nagasaki prefecture, which is what you'll see, today. And that is why, looking at a modern map, "Matsura" and modern "Matsuura" are not precisely in the same place. That history also helps demonstrate the historical connections between Karatsu, Hirado, Iki, and Tsushima—as well as the Goto islands. This region was where the Matsura clan arose, which controlled at least out to Iki, Hirado, and the Goto archipelago, and it was known for its strong navy, among other things. For our trip, heading to Karatsu was originally borne out of convenience: Our goal was to take the ferry so that we could travel along the ocean routes. We had traveled the route from Izuhara, on Tsushima, to Ashibe port, on Iki island. During that trip it was interesting to watch as Tsushima disappeared and then eventually Iki appeared on the horizon, but it wasn't immediate, and I suspect you would have wanted an experienced crew who knew the route and knew what to look for. Conversely, from Indoji port, on Iki, to Karatsu I felt like we were constantly in sight of one island or another, or at least could see the mountains of Kyushu to get our bearings. There wasn't really a time that felt like we were that far out from land. Even so, it would still have been a treacherous crossing back in the day. Coming in to Karatsu from the ferry, the first thing you will notice is the castle. Karatsu castle, also known as Maizuru Castle, is a reconstructed castle, but it really does provide a clear view of what one would have seen. The original was abandoned in the Meiji period and sold off in 1871. The main keep was later demolished and made into a park. In 1966 they built a new, 5-storey keep on the original base, and from 1989 onward have continued to make improvements to various parts of the castle moats and walls. You can still see the layout of the Ninomaru and honmaru sections of the castle, encompassing the old samurai districts of the jokamachi, or castle town, of Karatsu during the Edo period. Our primary goal in Karatsu, however, was not castle focused. We wanted to go back to an earlier time – the Yayoi period, to be precise - and Karatsu and the Matsuro-kan did not disappoint. While not quite as extensive as the reconstruction at other Yayoi sites like Harunotsuji or Yoshinogari, the site at the Matsuro-kan is still impressive in its own right. What is the Matsuro-kan, you might ask? It is the building and grounds of what is also known as the Nabatake site. In 1980, construction workers were excavating for a road through the Nabatake section of Karatsu when they noticed they were pulling up artifacts. An investigation between 1980 to 1981 determined that the artifacts were from the late Jomon to middle Yayoi period. Further investigation discovered the presence of old rice paddies. In 1983 the site was designated as a national historic site, further excavations were carried out, and the Matsurokan was built to house the artifacts and also provide some reconstructions of what the rice paddies would have looked like. For context these are some of the oldest rice paddies found in Japan, along with the nearby Itazuke rice paddies, in neighboring Fukuoka prefecture, and are key for giving us insights into what we know about early rice field cultivation. Here I should point out that these fields were in use through the middle Yayoi period, while the mission to Yamato—or Yamatai—recorded in the Weizhi would have been in the late Yayoi or early Kofun period, so likely several hundred years later. There are other Yayoi settlement remains found up and around the peninsula, and there are Kofun in the area, especially along the banks of the Matsura river. Given how built up much of the area is, it is possible that any large scale settlement may have been destroyed by subsequent settlements, or is somewhere that there just hasn't been a good reason for a full excavation. Still, who knows what we might eventually find. The Matsurokan appears to stick with the dating of the Yayoi period from about 300 BCE. This is based largely on assumptions regarding the development of different pottery styles. Recent research has suggested that this should be pushed back to about 800 or even 1000 BCE, suggesting a more gradual development. For our purposes, it is enough to note that this site appears to cover from the final Jomon era in Kyushu to the coming of wet rice agriculture with the advancing Yayoi culture. Based on what was found at the site, the wet rice paddies were created in what at least one scholar has suggested as a "primitive" wet rice paddy. The paddies themselves appear to have been placed in a naturally swampy area, irrigated by a natural stream. This would have made flooding the fields relatively simple, without the large ponds or waterworks required to cover a more extensive area. This may have sufficed for a small village, possibly only a handful of families living together and working the land. Besides the impressions of the paddies themselves, various tools, pottery, and more were also found at the site. Stone harvesting knives were plentiful—a semicircular stone knife that was held in the fingers of one hand, allowing a harvester to grasp the stalks and cut them quickly. This was the standard method of harvesting prior to the arrival of the sickle, or kama, and is still in use in some parts of China and Southeast Asia. It is more labor intensive than the sickle, but provides some benefits in the consistency and lack of waste product. The Matsurokan demonstrates how a lot of the Yayoi tools are, in fact, still in use in one form or another in different cultures that also absorbed rice cultivation, showing how widespread it became. In addition, there are artifacts such as shards of pottery showing what looks to be the imprint of a woven fabric, and various equipment for weaving and sewing. We have some beams and posts from buildings, which give us something at least try to guess at how things were put together. There are bones of various animals as well as stone arrowheads. There are also fish and even dugong bones, suggesting they also made a living from the nearby sea. And there are various bits of jewelry, including magatama, and what appears to be a shark's tooth with holes drilled in so it could be worn on a cord. There are also carbonized rice grains found at the site, likely grown there. We don't have any ancient strains of rice that can be proven to come from these fields, but in their reconstruction, outside the museum, they have rebuilt some of the rice fields and grow old rice variants in them. This is used, in part, to teach local schoolchildren about rice cultivation – in fact, local schools are allocated individual paddies each growing season. Besides the rice paddies, the Matsurokan also boasts several reconstructed dwellings. These are similar to ones you might find elsewhere depicting what life was like back in the Yayoi period. As the Yayoi period gave way to the kofun, we do see some mounded tombs in the area, though not quite as many as in others. Matsura appears to be rather rural. Around the Heian period, we see the rise of a local group that comes to be known as the Matsura group, or Matsura-tou, which eventually consolidated into the Matsura family. There are several lineages claiming that the Matsura family descended from the Minamoto or Abe clans or through branch families thereof. Matsura-to itself is sometimes called the 48 factions of Matsura. It wasn't as much a family as an alliance of local warriors, each with their own base of operations. I can't quite tell if the lineage of the later Matsura clan, as they were known, were meant to represent a single lineage or the various lineages that came together. For all we know, they may have married into official families or otherwise concocted lineages to help legitimize them as much as anything else—this far out from the center, in the 11th century, there wasn't necessarily as much oversight. Early in the 11th century they also had a chance to prove themselves with the Toi invasion – that was the Jurchen invasion we mentioned last couple episodes. After the Toi invaders attacked Tsushima and Iki, they set their sites on Hakata Bay, which was the closest landing to the Dazaifu, the Yamato government in Kyushu. They were chased off and headed down the coast. Minamoto Tomo is said to have led the forces that repelled the Toi invaders, who finally departed altogether, striking one more time on Tsushima before heading back to wherever they came from. Minamoto Tomo is said, at least in some stories, to have been the founder of the Matsura clan, or at least the leader of the 48 factions, which then coalesced into the Matsura clan, which eventually would run the Hirado domain. Over two hundred and fifty years after the Toi Invasion would come the Mongols. If the Toi were bad, the Mongols were much worse. The Toi were a band of marauders, who caused a lot of havoc, but do not appear to have had state backing. The Mongols were perhaps more appropriately the Yuan empire, who had already conquered the Yellow river valley and were working on the Song dynasty along the Yangzi. While the Toi had brought with them Goryeo warriors as well—who may or may not have joined up willingly—the Mongols had huge armies from all over that they could throw at a problem. As we talked about in the past two episodes, the Mongols swept through Tsushima and Iki and then headed straight for Hakata, the closest landing zone to the Dazaifu, the government outpost in Kyushu. Even during the height of the Kamakura shogunate, this was still an important administrative center, and would have given the Mongols a huge advantage on holding territory and eventually sweeping up the archipelago. Fortunately, they were stopped. Whether it was the gumption, skill, and downright stubbornness of their samurai foes or the divine wind that swept up from the ocean, the Mongols were turned back, twice. During each of these invasions, the Matsura clan and others rushed to the defense of the nation, but unlike with the Toi invasions, there do not appear to have been any serious battles along the Matsuura coastline—not that I can make out, anyway. After the Mongol invasion, Kyushu was not left out of the troubles that would follow, including the downfall of the Hojo, the rise of the Ashikaga, and the eventual breakdown of the shogunal system into the period known as the Warring States period. Through it all the Matsura continued to ply the seas and encourage the trade from which they and others, like the Sou of Tsushima, came to depend on. They also allied with other entrepreneurial seafarers, known to others as pirates, and they started trading with a group of weird looking people with hairy beards and pale skin, who came to be known as the Nanban, the southern barbarians—known to us, primarily, as the Portuguese. One faction of the Matsura were the Hata—no relation to the Hata that set up in what would become the Kyoto region in the early periods of Yamato state formation. The Hata ruled the area that would become Karatsu, but eventually they were taken over by the Ryuzoji, who were allied with Toyotomi Hideyoshi. Hideyoshi's interest in the Karatsu and Matsura area had to do with its easy access to the continent. And so Hideyoshi began to pay attention to Nagoya, at the end of the peninsula down from Karatsu. And no, not *that* Nagoya. If you hear Nagoya, today, you are probably talking about the bustling metropolis in Aichi, which was where Toyotomi himself got his start, growing up and going to w…

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Iki-koku Jun 16, 2024

Show notes

This is Part 3 of our Gishiwajinden Tour--following the route of the Wei embassy through the land of Wa and looking at the various locations along the way. So far we've looked at the old land of Gaya, as represented at Gimhae, the site of the old Geumgwan Gaya, and the island of Tsushima, on the border. This episode we look at the next island: Iki. It might be easy to overlook Iki--it was neither the center nor exactly the periphery. From the point of view of those in the court or those outside it was rather "mid", in a literal sense. However, it was certainly at the center of its own vibrant history, which was certainly important to everyone there, and hosted a thriving community. It is also a great place to visit in the modern day: something of a hidden gem for anyone looking for a slightly more out of the way place to visit, with a slower pace than cities like Tokyo. For more, see our blog page: https://www.sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/iki-koku Rough Translation: Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua and this is Gishiwajinden Tour Part 3: Iki-koku. As regular listeners know, we are currently taking a break from the Chronicles. With the Isshi Incident of 645—see Episode 107—we are about to get into the time known as "Taika" or "Great Change". Spoiler alert: This is the rise of Naka no Oe, aka Tenji Tennou; Nakatomi Kamako, aka Nakatomi Kamatari, the progenitor of the Fujiwara family; and more. It is the beginning of what is known as the Ritsuryo System, the idea of a state governed by laws and punishments similar to what we see on the continent, based largely on Confucian principles, but mixed with a healthy dose of local tradition. There is a lot there, and I want to do it justice. And so for now I have a little bonus content for you. Earlier this year, Ellen and I took a trip based on the account in the Gishiwajinden, the Wa section of the Weizhi, the section in the Wei Chronicles regarding the trip to visit Queen Himiko of Wa. In Part 1 we talked about our trip to Gimhae, formerly known as Geumgwan Gaya, a part of the old Gaya—or Kara—confederacy, with close ties to the archipelago. Part 2 we talked about our next stop, the island of Tsushima. But we didn't just talk about it in the 3rd century, because if you visit there is so much more to see from an historical perspective. This episode we are talking about the island of Iki, aka Ikijima, though in the Weizhi it is known as its own country: Iki-koku. Relative to Tsushima, Iki island is much smaller—about one fifth the overall landmass. However, it is much flatter as well—the highest point is only 212 meters above sea level, compared to Tsushima, which rises to about 649 meters at Mt. Yatate. This makes Iki an island with a lot of flat land or rolling hills—perfect for the kind of wet rice paddy agriculture that created the population boom in the Yayoi period, which we will talk about here in a minute. However, I will note that even today the population of Iki is similar to that of Tsushima despite having much less space. The flora and fauna of the island is much closer to that of the rest of the archipelago—in fact, it is nearly identical to what you would find in southwest Kyushu. This is not surprising given how close it is. For reference, Hitakatsu, on Tsushima is under 50km from Busan, Korea, and about 147 km to Hakata port in Fukuoka, or 138 km if you depart from Izuhara port instead. Comparatively, it is about 76 km from Hakata to Iki, and even less—just about 42km—from Iki to Karatsu, south of Fukuoka, and these routes are dotted with islands along the way. At its closest point, Iki is probably only 20km from Kyushu, but the ferries only stop at certain ports. Tsushima to Iki, on the other hand, is around 68 km, from Izuhara to Iki. Iki is about as close to Karatsu as Tsushima is to Pusan, and they are both further away from each other than from their respective larger landmasses. That makes this leg – Tsushima to Iki - the longest leg in the trip, realistically. Today, both Iki and Tsushima, along with the Goto islands to the south, are all part of Nagasaki prefecture, despite the fact that they are both closer to Saga and Fukuoka prefectures. This is in part because Iki came under the jurisdiction of the Hirado domain, which also was heavily involved with foreign trade through Nagasaki. Today, Iki is broken up into roughly four areas. This includes Katsumoto, Ashibe, Indoji, and Gonoura, based around the four main port towns on the island. Three of these ports, Ashibe, Indoji, and Gonoura, have ferries that regularly travel to either Tsushima or Kyushu. And all of them have various boats to take people out the islands around Iki, one of the major draws for many people coming to the island being to see the natural beauty of its coastline and surrounding waters. There is also a small airport. Although Iki is small—you can drive from one end to the other in 40 minutes or less—I highly recommend renting a car, much like Tsushima. This will be helpful to get to various sites, although be aware that while the main roads are well cared for, there are plenty of roads where it is better to go on foot rather than get stopped by fallen trees and branches in a less well maintained area. Taxis can be had, but aren't always convenient, and that adds cost and time. A car will give you much more freedom to get around. Iki is a popular tourist destination, with more people coming during the summer months. We were there in the off-season, which was somewhat nice, but also meant that many restaurants and the like were closed. Also, similar to Tsushima, there isn't a konbini—a convenience store—on every street corner. You can certainly find them, but just be aware. That said, we never really had a problem finding what we needed. Iki is known for several things. One, perhaps unsurprisingly, is the squid, and you can see the squid boats in the harbor or out at night. They have arrays of lights set up, to help draw the squid to the surface, a common technique around the world that makes squid fishing quite distinctive. In addition, Iki island is quite proud of its beef, a much more recent addition. The flat land allows them to raise cattle, and the Iki raised wagyu cattle, known as Iki-gyu, is highly prized. You can find several yakiniku restaurants around the island, that particular Japanese style of Korean barbecue where you grill up thinly sliced beef on a hot skillet or even an open grill at your table. An older product is the barley shochu. Iki island is said to be the birthplace of barley shochu, developing it in the 17th century. Back then, taxes from the island had to be paid in rice, and there wasn't enough left to make much alcohol, such as traditional sake. As such, the local farmers started using barley and koji, instead, to make the base alcohol that they then distilled into shochu. Shochu itself goes back to at least the 16th century, as distilling techniques reached southern Japan via either the Ryukyu kingdom or via the Korean peninsula—records are unclear, as these techniques reached both places before Japan, and Kyushu had connections to each. That said, early shochu was made with rice, and later it would be made with cheaper ingredients, such as barley, in the case of Iki, or sweet potato, in Satsuma, modern Kagoshima. These methods spread to other parts of Japan. There are plenty of other food options available on the island as well, and I don't think we had a bad meal anywhere we went. And so we left Izuhara port, on Tsushima, early in the morning and arrived at Ashibe port around lunchtime. We had arranged a car to meet us at the port, and after grabbing a bite at a locally renowned yakinikuya, we decided to start getting our historical bearings on the island. Our main objective on Iki island was to see the Yayoi site of Harunotsuji and the Iki-koku Museum, the museum of the country of Iki. Quick note for anyone looking this up: The "Haru" in "Harunotsuji" is typically pronounced "Hara" outside of Kyushu and Okinawa. This affects a lot of placenames in Kyushu, including Iki, and likely comes from remnants of an old dialect of Japanese spoken in this area. Whatever the reason, if you look up the site in Japanese you may want to type "Hara-no-tsuji" to help find the right kanji. Harunotsuji site is an incredible find in regards to the Yayoi period. It was a large settlement built on flat land in the interior of the island. Today it is surrounded by rice fields, and fortunately nobody else seems to have built up on the raised hills where the settlement once stood, allowing the site to remain for us to find years later. This is one of the better preserved sites from the Yayoi period, and is often touted as the likely center of activity in Iki during that period. Of course, as with other sites, like Yoshinogari, we can only see those sites that were preserved—those that were built upon in later generations may not have left any trace. However, in this case there's clear evidence that there was a thriving community here. And because of that, and the tremendous effort they've put into reconstructing the site, as well as the excellent museum, we wanted to make sure that we gave Iki a visit. There aren't many museums on Iki island, but the Iki-koku museum ranks up there with some of the best we've visited. The building itself is built to blend into the landscape, and from the observation tower you can look out over the Harunotsuji site. The museum provides an automated introduction to the area, with a small film depicting what they believe life was probably like back in the Yayoi period. From there you travel down a hallway that takes you through the history of Iki, but eventually deposits you in a room focused on the Yayoi period. Here they show a reconstructed boat, as well as a large diorama of the Harunotsuji site. One of the major finds at Harunotsuji is what appears to be a dock, reinforced with rocks, similar to what they find on the continent. This dock was at a small stream that was once larger, and was likely used to ferry goods and people from Harunotsuji to a settlement or outpost on the shore. It gives greater insight into what trade and life looked like. Speaking of which, props to the museum for their excellent use of often comical figures in their diorama, which is clearly made to appeal to young and old alike. They help humanize the figures, and each part of the layout that they created of the site tells a story about what was going on. In addition to the diorama of the site, and what it may have looked like, there were also actual Yayoi era pots that were there which you could pick up and handle yourself. I have to admit that I did this with some trepidation, even knowing that these were not particularly special, and that there are many pots and shards that are found at sites like these. Still, it was something to actually handle a pot that was made back in that time—something that was made by an actual person living back then and used for whatever purpose before it was discarded or lost, only to be found centuries later. Besides the room on the site, there is another side to the museum in that it is a working archaeological center. You can see the lab where people are working, and they also have a room where you can see the stacks—the giant shelves with all of the historical and archaeological bits and bobs that weren't on display for one reason or another. That is something that many people don't always appreciate: For many museums, only a portion of their collection is actually on display. It was really great to see all of that out in the open. The museum also has a café and some function rooms, as well as a giant observation tower, from which it feels like you can see the entire island, and beyond. You could definitely look down and see the site, but you could also see some of the more distant islands as well. From the museum we went down to see the actual Harunotsuji site. There is another museum there, which was a little less impressive but still quite informative, and it was where you park and then walk over to the site itself. And here I admit that it was getting late, so we came back to it another day, but it doesn't really take that long to see the site itself. Most of the site sits on a rise of land that sits just a little higher than the surrounding fields, with a gentle slope to it. It is oddly shaped, likely because they used the natural contours of the land rather than explicitly building up a terrace. There is another rise towards one end of the settlement, with what may have been a fence around the area, indicating that the buildings in that area were set aside as special. There are also ditches that appear to have been purposefully dug to separate a part of the rise from the area of the settlement, as buildings were apparently found on one side but not the other. What was found was a small area surrounded by a moat, generally thought to have been used for some kind of ritual. At the site today are reconstructed buildings of multiple kinds, based on the archeological findings. There are pit buildings, buildings sitting flush on the ground, as well as raised buildings, all based likely on the arrangements and size of post-holes and the like. There also appears to have been some kind of gate or barrier structure, also based on postholes, which they have physically reconstructed. It is always tricky to interpret what a building looked like other than guessing at its general shape and size. Extremely large post-holes likely held larger posts, which would make particular sense if they were for a tall structure, like a watchtower, but exact architectural features such as doorways, roof structure, etc. are derived based on other examples as well as Shinto shrine architecture, which seems to originate from some of the early Yayoi buildings. There were also some finds in the surrounding areas, including what appears to have been a stone-lined dock for boats to pull up, some kind of guard post to inspect people entering or leaving the settlement, and moats, which likely surrounded the settlement as well. Harunotsuji is not the only Yayoi site that has been excavated on Iki island, but nothing else is quite so large. Put in context with other archaeological sites from the same time period, Harunotsuji is thought to have been the most powerful, and therefore where the ruler, or the quote-unquote "King", of Iki would have lived. Here I'd note that the interpretation of Harunotsuji as a kingly capital is quite prevalent in the local literature, but what exactly was a "king" in this sense isn't fully explored. As we talked about two episodes back with Gimhae and the quote-unquote "Kingdom" of Gaya, Iki-koku probably better fits the English term of a large chiefdom, rather than a kingdom. However, that would also likely apply to Queen Himiko, as well—even if her chiefdom dwarfed Iki-koku by comparison. That said, there certainly appears to be a social stratification of some kind going on at the site, especially with a special area clearly set aside at one end of the settlement. Was that where a shaman-king—or queen—similar to Himiko carried out private, arcane rites on behalf of the entire settlement? Perhaps the entire island? Or is it something else? Unfortunately, we can't really know, at least not right now. However, we do know that it was an important part of the trade routes from the continent out to the archipelago. This isn't just because of the Weizhi, or the common sense that this is the clearest route between the two, but also because of artifacts found at the site, which include abundant goods from the continent. In addition we found evidence of dogs, armor, shields, and various pots. One thin…

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Tsushima Jun 01, 2024

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This is Part 2 of our special Gishiwajinden Tour from Gaya to Tsushima, Iki, Matsuro, Ito, and Na--aka Gimhae and Busan to Tsushima, Iki, Karatsu, Itoshima, and Fukuoka. This time we talk about the island of Tsushima, the border island between Japan and Korea. While itself a difficult place to make a living, it has long been the border--a place for foreign ambassadors, invadors, and pirates alike. For photos and more, check out our blogpost: https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/tsushima Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua and this is Gishiwajinden Tour Stop 2: Tsushima. As I mentioned last episode, we are taking a break right now from the workings of the Chronicles while I prep a bit more research on the Taika reform. As we do so, I'm taking you through a recent trip we took trying to follow the ancient sea routes from Gaya, on the Korean peninsula, across the islands to Na, in modern Fukuoka. This may have been first described in the Wei Chronicles, the Weizhi, but it was the pathway that many visitors to the archipelago took up through the famous Mongol invasion, and even later missions from the Joseon kingdom on the Korean peninsula. Last episode, we talked about our start at Gimhae and Pusan. Gimhae is the old Geumgwan Gaya, as far as we can tell, and had close connections with the archipelago as evidenced by the common items of material culture found on both sides of the strait. From the coast of the Korean peninsula, ships would then sail for the island of Tsushima, the nearest of the islands between the mainland and the Japanese archipelago. Today, ships still sail from Korea to Japan, but most leave out of the port of Pusan. This includes regular cruise ships as well as specialty cruises and ferries. For those who want, there are some popular trips between Pusan and Fukuoka or Pusan all the way to Osaka, through the Seto Inland Sea. For us, however, we were looking at the shortest ferries, those to Tsushima. Tsushima is a large island situated in the strait between Korea and Japan. Technically it is actually three islands, as channels were dug in the 20th century to allow ships stationed around the island to quickly pass through rather than going all the way around. Tsushima is the closest Japanese island to Korea, actually closer to Korea than to the rest of Japan, which makes it a fun day trip from Pusan, so they get a lot of Korean tourists. There are two ports that the ferries run to, generally speaking. In the north is Hitakatsu, which is mainly a port for people coming from Korea. Further south is Izuhara, which is the old castle town, where the So family once administered the island and relations with the continent, and where you can get a ferry to Iki from. Unfortunately for us, as I mentioned last episode, it turned out that the kami of the waves thwarted us in our plans to sail from Busan to Tsushima. And so we ended up flying into Tsushima Airport, instead, which actually required us to take an international flight over to Fukuoka and then a short domestic flight back to Tsushima. On the one hand, this was a lot of time out of our way, but on the other they were nice short flights with a break in the Fukuoka airport, which has great restaurants in the domestic terminal. Furthermore, since we came into the centrally-located Tsushima airport, this route also gave us relatively easy access to local rental car agencies, which was helpful because although there is a bus service that runs up and down the islands, if you really want to explore Tsushima it is best to have a car. Note that also means having an International Driver's Permit, at least in most cases, unless you have a valid Japanese drivers' license. As for why you need a car: There is a bus route from north to south, but for many of the places you will likely want to go will take a bit more to get to. If you speak Japanese and have a phone there are several taxi companies you can call, and you can try a taxi app, though make sure it works on the island. In the end, having a car is extremely convenient. Tsushima is also quite mountainous, without a lot of flat land, and there are numerous bays and inlets in which ships can hide and shelter from bad weather—or worse. Tsushima is renowned for its natural beauty. Flora and fauna are shared with continent and the archipelago. There are local subspecies of otter and deer found on the islands, but also the Yamaneko, or Mountain Cat, a subspecies of the Eurasian leopard cat that is only found in Japan on Tsushima and on Iriomote, in the southern Okinawan island chain. They also have their own breed of horse, as well, related to the ancient horses bred there since at least the 8th century. Tsushima is clearly an important part of Japan, and the early stories of the creation of the archipelago often include Tsushima as one of the original eight islands mentioned in the creation story. That suggests it has been considered an ancient part of the archipelago since at least the 8th century, and likely much earlier. Humans likely first came to Tsushima on their crossing from what is now the Korean peninsula over to the archipelago at the end of the Pleistocene era, when sea levels were much lower. However, we don't have clear evidence of humans until later, and this is likely because the terrain made it difficult to cultivate the land, and most of the activity was focused on making a livelihood out of the ocean. Currently we have clear evidence of humans on the island from at least the Jomon period, including remnants such as shellmounds, though we don't have any clear sign of habitation. It is possible that fishermen and others came to the islands during certain seasons, setting up fish camps and the like, and then departed, but it could be that there were more permanent settlements and we just haven't found them yet. Most of the Jomon sites appear to be on the northern part of Tsushima, what is now the "upper island", though, again, lack of evidence should not be taken as evidence of lack, and there could be more we just haven't found yet. After all, sites like Izuhara, which was quite populated in later periods, may have disturbed any underlying layers that we could otherwise hope to find there, and perhaps we will one day stumble on something more that will change our understanding. Things change a bit in the Yayoi period, and we see clear evidence of settlements, pit buildings, graves, and grave goods at various sites up through the Kofun period. Unsurprisingly, the assembly of goods found include both archipelagic and continental material, which fits with its position in between the various cultures. Understandably, most of these archeological sites were investigated and then either covered back up for preservation or replaced by construction – so in many cases there isn't anything to see now, besides the artifacts in the museum. But some of the earliest clear evidence that you can still go see today are the several kofun, ancient tumuli, scattered around the island at different points. Most of the kofun on the island appear to be similar, and overall fairly small. These are not the most impressive kofun—not the giant mounds found in places like Nara, Osaka, Kibi, or even up in Izumo. However, to students of the era they are still very cool to see as monuments of that ancient time. One example of this that we visited was the Niso-kofungun, or the Niso Kofun group. The Niso Kofungun is not like what you might expect in the Nara basin or the Osaka area. First, you drive out to the end of the road in a small fishing community, and from there go on a small hike to see the kofun themselves. Today the mounds are mostly hidden from view by trees, though there are signs put up to mark each one. Some of them have a more well defined shape than others, too, with at least one demonstrating what appears to be a long, thin keyhole shape, taking advantage of the local terrain. Most of these were pit style burials, where slabs of local sedimentary rock were used to form rectangular coffins in the ground, in which the individuals were presumably buried. On one of the keyhole shaped mounds there was also what appears to be a secondary burial at the neck of the keyhole, where the round and trapezoidal sections meet. However, we don't know who or even what was buried there in some instances, as most of the bones are no longer extant. Besides the distinctively keyhole shaped tomb, two more kofun in the Niso group caught my attention. One, which is thought to have been a round tomb, had what appeared to be a small stone chamber, perhaps the last of the kofun in this group to be built, as that is generally a feature of later period kofun. There was also one that was higher up on the hill, which may also have been a keyhole shaped tomb. That one struck me, as it would likely have been particularly visible from sea before the current overgrown forest appeared. There are also plenty of other kofun to go searching for, though some might be a little more impressive than others. In the next episode, when we talk about the island of Iki, we'll explore that ancient kingdom's much larger collection of kofun. After the mention of Tsushima in the Weizhi in the third century, there is a later story, from about the 6th century, involving Tsushima in the transmission of Buddhism. This story isn't in the Nihon Shoki and was actually written down much later, so take that as you will. According to this account, the Baekje envoys who transmitted the first Buddha image to Japan stopped for a while on Tsushima before proceeding on to the Yamato court. While they were there, the monks who were looking after the image built a small building in which to conduct their daily rituals, effectively building the first Buddhist place of worship in the archipelago. A temple was later said to have been built on that spot, and in the mid-15th century it was named Bairinji. While the narrative is highly suspect, there is some evidence that the area around Bairinji was indeed an important point on the island. Prior to the digging of the two channels to connect the east and west coasts, the area near Bairinji, known as Kofunakoshi, or the small boat portage, was the narrowest part of Tsushima, right near the middle, where Aso Bay and Mitsuura Bay almost meet. We know that at least in the 9th century this is where envoys would disembark from one ship which had brought them from the archipelago, and embark onto another which would take them to the continent, and vice versa. Likewise, their goods would be carried across the narrow strip of land. This was like a natural barrier and an ideal location for an official checkpoint, and in later years Bairinji temple served as this administrative point, providing the necessary paperwork for crews coming to and from Japan, including the various Joseon dynasty missions in the Edo period. Why this system of portage and changing ships, instead of just sailing around? Such a system was practical for several reasons. For one, it was relatively easy to find Tsushima from the mainland. Experienced ships could sail there, transfer cargo to ships experienced with the archipelago and the Seto Inland Sea, and then return swiftly to Korea. Furthermore, this system gave Yamato and Japan forewarning, particularly of incoming diplomatic missions. No chance mistaking ships for an invasion or pirates of some kind, as word could be sent ahead and everything could be arranged in preparation for the incoming mission. These are details that are often frustratingly left out of many of the early accounts, but there must have been some logistics to take care of things like this. Whether or not Bairinji's history actually goes back to 538, it does have claim to some rather ancient artifacts, including a 9th century Buddha image from the Unified, or Later, Silla period as well as 579 chapters of the Dai Hannya Haramitta Kyo, or the Greater Perfection of Wisdom Sutra, from a 14th century copy. These were actually stolen from the temple in 2014, but later recovered. Other statues were stolen two years previously from other temples on Tsushima, which speaks to some of the tensions that still exist between Korea and Japan. Claims were made that the statues had originally been stolen by Japanese pirates, or wakou, from Korea and brought to Japan, so the modern-day thieves were simply righting an old wrong. However, Korean courts eventually found that the items should be returned to Japan, though there were those who disagreed with the ruling. This is an example of the ongoing tensions that can sometimes make study of inter-strait history a bit complex. More concrete than the possible location of a theoretical early worship structure are the earthworks of Kaneda fortress. This is a mid-7th century fort, created by Yamato to defend itself from a presumed continental invasion. We even have mention of it in the Nihon Shoki. It appears to have been repaired in the late 7th century, and then continued to be used until some time in the 8th century, when it was abandoned, seeing as how the invasion had never materialized, and no doubt maintaining the defenses on top of a mountain all the way out on Tsushima would have been a costly endeavor. Over time the name "Kaneda" was forgotten, though the stone and earthworks on the mountain gave the site the name "Shiroyama", or Castle Mountain, at least by the 15th century. In the Edo period, scholars set out trying to find the Kaneda fortress mentioned in the Nihon Shoki, and at one point identified this with an area known as Kanedahara, or Kaneda Fields, in the modern Sasu district, on the southwest coast of Tsushima. However, a scholar named Suyama Don'ou identified the current mountaintop site, which has generally been accepted as accurate. The earthworks do appear to show the kind of Baekje-style fortifications that Yamato built at this time, which took advantage of the natural features of the terrain. These fortresses, or castles, were more like fortified positions—long walls that could give troops a secure place to entrench themselves. They would not have had the impressive donjon, or tenshukaku, that is the most notable feature of of later Japanese and even European castles. Most of the Baekje style castles in Japan are primarily earthworks—for example the Demon's castle in modern Okayama. Kaneda is unique, though, with about 2.8 kilometers of stone walls, most of which are reportedly in quite good condition. There were three main gates and remains of various buildings have been determined from post-holes uncovered on the site. There is a name for the top of the mountain, Houtateguma, suggesting that there may have once been some kind of beacon tower placed there with a light that could presumably be used to signal to others, but no remains have been found. The defensive nature of the position is also attested to in modern times. During the early 20th century, the Japanese military placed batteries on the fortress, and an auxiliary fort nearby. These constructions damaged some of the ancient walls, but this still demonstrates Tsushima's place at the edge of Japan and the continent, even into modern times. For all that it is impressive, I have to say that we regrettably did not make it to the fortress, as it is a hike to see everything, and our time was limited. If you do go, be prepared for some trekking, as this really is a fortress on a mountain, and you need to park and take the Kaneda fortress trail up. Moving on from the 8th century, we have evidence of Tsushima in written records throughout the next several centuries, but there isn't a lot clearly remaining on the island from that period—at least not extant buildings. In the records we can see that there were clearly things going on, and quite often it wasn't…

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Gishiwajinden Tour: Geumgwan Gaya May 16, 2024

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Taking a break from the story while I do some research, so presenting a recent trip we made along the same lines mentioned in the Gishiwajinden--the Wa section of the Weizhi. We started in Gimhae, representing Gaya, and headed to Tsushima, Iki, and on to Kyushu. This episode we talk about Gimhae, believed to be the site of ancient Gemgwan Gaya, at the head of the Nakdong River, and possibly the site of the Kings of Gaya. For more, see our blogpost: https://www.sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/geumgwangaya Rough Transcript: Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua and this is Gishiwajinden Self-Guided Tour: Geumgwan Gaya. For the next several episodes we are taking a bit of a detour from the narrative of the Chronicles. After all, with the coup of 645 that we covered a couple of episodes ago, we are about to dive into the period known as "Taika" or "Great Change". Prince Naka no Oe and Nakatomi no Kamako were not just assassins—they had plans that went beyond just cutting the head off the powerful Soga house. It's an eventful time, with a lot of changes, though some of those would take time to really come to fruition and before I get into all of that there is a bit more research that I want to do to figure out the best way to lay that out for you. And so I figured we would take a little detour for a few episodes, to share with you a special trip that Ellen and I recently took, reproducing – in a modern way – some of the earliest accounts we have about crossing over to the archipelago: the Gishiwajinden, the Japanese section of the Weizhi. We talked about this chronicle back in episode 11: it describes all the places one would stop when leaving the continent, from kingdoms on the peninsula and across the smaller islands of the archipelago before landing in what we currently call Kyushu. And Ellen and I did just that: we sailed across the Korean straits, from the site of the ancient kingdom of Gaya in modern Gimhae, to the islands of Tsushima and Iki, then on to modern Karatsu and Fukuoka, passing through what is thought to be the ancient lands of Matsuro, Ito, and Na. It was an incredibly rewarding journey, and includes plenty of archaeological sites spanning the Yayoi to Kofun periods—as well as other sites of historical interest. It also gets you out to some areas of Japan and Korea that aren't always on people's list, but probably should be. So for this first episode about our "Gishiwajinden Jido Toua" – our Gishiwajinden Self-Guided Tour – we'll talk about the historical sites in Gimhae, the site of ancient Geumgwan Gaya, but also some of the more modern considerations for visiting, especially on your own. By the way, a big thank you to one of our listeners, Chad, who helped inspire this trip. He was living on Iki for a time and it really made me think about what's out there. This episode I'll be focusing on the first place our journey took us, Gimhae, South Korea. Gimhae is a city on the outskirts of modern Pusan, and home to Pusan's international airport, which was quite convenient. This is thought to be the seat of the ancient kingdom of Gaya, also known as "Kara" in the old records. In the Weizhi we are told of a "Guyahan", often assumed to be "Gaya Han", which is to say the Han—one of the countries of the peninsula—known as Guya or Gaya. This is assumed to mean Gaya, aka Kara or Garak, and at that time it wasn't so much a kingdom as it was a confederation of multiple polities that shared a similar material culture and locations around the Nakdong river. This is the area that we believe was also referenced as "Byeonhan" in some of the earliest discussions of the Korean peninsula. By the way, while I generally believe this area was referred to as "Kara", "Gara", or even "Garak", originally, the modern Korean reading of the characters used is "Gaya", and since that is what someone will be looking for, that's what I'll go with. History of the Korean peninsula often talks about the "Three Kingdoms" period, referencing the kingdoms of Baekje, Silla, and Goguryeo. However, that is a very simplistic view of the ancient history of the archipelago. Numerous small polities existed without a clear, persistent overlord outside of those three larger polities, and even they were not always quite as grand as the later histories would like to make them out to be. Gaya is often referred to as the "Gaya Confederacy" by modern historians, at least for most of its existence, and refers to a number of polities including Daegaya, Ara, etc., and may also include "Nimna", though where exactly that was is a topic of great debate, with some claiming that it was just another name for what later was known as Geumgwan Gaya, and other suggestions that it was its own polity, elsewhere on the coast. This isn't helped by the nationalist Japanese view that "Nimna" was also the "Mimana Nihonfu", or the Mimana controlled by Japan, noted in the Nihon Shoki, and used as the pretext for so many of the aggressions perpetrated on the continent by Japan. These all appear to have been individual polities, like small city-states, which were otherwise joined by a common culture. Although the Samguk Yusa mentions "King Suro" coming in 42 CE, for most of its history there wasn't really a single Gaya state as far as we can tell. It is possible that towards the 5th and early 6th centuries, Geumgwan Gaya had reached a certain level of social complexity and stratification that it would classify as a "kingdom", but these definitions are the kinds of things that social scientists would argue about endlessly. Evidence for a "Kingdom" comes in part from the way that Geumgwan Gaya is referenced in the Samguk Sagi and other histories, particularly in how its ruling elite is referred to as the royal ancestors of the Gimhae Kim clan. Proponents also point to the elaborate graves, a large palace site (currently under excavation and renovation), the rich grave goods found in the tombs thought to be those of the royal elites, etc. Other scholars are not so sure, however, and even if there was a nominal kingdom, it likely did not last very long before coming under the rule of Silla in the 6th century. Unlike the other kingdoms—Baekje, Silla, and Goguryeo; the "Samguk", or three countries, of the "Samguk Sagi"—Gaya does not have its own record in the histories. The Samguk Yusa, which is of interest but also problematic in that it was clearly more about telling the miraculous tales of Buddhism than a strictly factual history, does have a bit about Gaya. The author of the Samguk Yusa, the monk Ilyeon, claimed that the information there was pulled from a no longer extant record called the Gayakgukki, or Record of the Gaya Kingdom, but the actual stories are not enough to tell us everything that happened. Most of what we know comes from members of the Gaya Confederacy popping up in the records of other nations, including Baekje, Silla, Goguryeo, and Yamato. For example, there are references in the Gwangaetto Stele from the 5th century, as well as plenty of references in the Nihon Shoki and the records in the Samguk Sagi. This is a little bit better than some of the other groups mentioned as being on the Korean peninsula that are often referred to only one time before being completely forgotten. For us, the importance of Gaya is its links with Yamato. Although it would seem that Nimna, in particular, had close ties with Yamato it is noteworthy that the Japanese word for the continent and things that would come from there—including the later Tang dynasty—is "Kara". "Kara-fu" generally refers to something that comes from China, but only because those things originally came through the peninsula and through Kara, or Gaya. The port on Kyushu where the goods likely arrived before continuing up to modern Fukuoka is even today known as "Karatsu", or "Kara Port". This lends credence to the idea that Nimna was likely at least a member of the Gaya confederacy. There are also deep similarities in many material items found in the peninsula and in the area of the Nakdong peninsula, including pottery, armor, horse gear, etc. At the very least this indicates a close trading relationship, and combined with the account in the Weizhi, emphasizes the idea that this was likely the jumping off point for missions to the archipelago and vice versa. Perhaps more controversial is the idea that at least some members of the Gaya Confederacy, or the Byeonhan cultural group before it, may have been speakers of some kind of proto-Japonic. There are also some that suggest there may have been ethnic Wa on the peninsula at an early point as well. However, I would note that the Weizhi refers to this area specifically as being part of the "Han", and that it was the jumping off point to find the lands of the Wa and eventually the lands of Yamato (or Yamatai), so make of that what you will. All of this is well after the introduction of rice cultivation in Japan, focusing on the 3rd century onward, roughly corresponding to what we think of as the Kofun Period in Japan, and which was also a period of ancient mound-building on the Korean peninsula as well. All that aside, it is clear that Gaya was an important part of the makeup of the early Korean peninsula, and that much of that history is on display in modern Gimhae. Gimhae is one of plenty of places on the Korean peninsula for anyone with an interest in ancient history. Besides the various museums, like thate National Museum in Seoul, there are sites like Gyeongju, the home of the tombs of the Silla kings and the ancient Silla capital, and much more. Gimhae itself is home to the Royal Gaya Tombs, as well as archaeological remnants of an ancient settlement that was probably at least one of the early Gaya polities. As I noted, Gimhae is more accurately the site of what is known in later historical entries as Geumgwan Gaya. The earliest record of the Weizhi just says something like "Gü-lja-han" which likely means "Gaya Han", or Gaya of Korea, referring at the time to the three Han of Mahan, Jinhan, and Byeonhan. That may or may not have referred to this particular place, as there are other Gaya sites along the coast and in the upper reaches of the Nakdong river. However, given its placement on the shore, the site at Gimhae seems to have a good claim to be the point mentioned in the Wei Chronicles, which is why we also chose it as the first site on our journey. The characters for "Gimhae" translate into something like "Gold Sea", but it seems to go back to the old name: Geumgwan, as in Geumgwan Gaya. It is part of the old Silla capital region. "Geum" uses the same character as "Kim", meaning "Gold" or "Metal". This is also used in the popular name "Kim", which is used by several different lineage groups even today. The "Sea" or "Ocean" character may refer to Gimhae's position near the ocean, though I don't know how relevant that was when the name "Gimhae" came into common usage. The museums and attractions around Gimhae largely focuses on the royal tombs of the Geumgwan Gaya kingdom, which in 2023 were placed, along with seven other Gaya tomb sites, on the UNESCO list of world heritage sites. Since they're so newly added, we did not see the kind of omnipresent UNESCO branding that we are used to seeing elsewhere, such as Nikko Toshogu or Angkor Wat, but taxi drivers certainly knew the UNESCO site and museum. For anyone interested in these tombs and in Gaya's early history, there are two museums you likely want to visit. First off is the National Museum, which covers a wide swath of history, with tons of artifacts, well laid out to take you through the history of the Gaya Confederacy, from early pre-history times through at least the 7th century. There is also a separate museum that specifically covers the Daeseong-dong tombs, which lay upon a prominent ridge on the western side of the city, north of a Gaya era settlement with a huge shell midden found at Bonghwang-dong, to the south, nearby an ongoing excavation of a potential palace site. These museums have some excellent displays, including pottery, metalwork, horse gear, armor, and even parts of an ancient boat. As I noted earlier, these show a lot of similarity to items across the strait in the archipelago, though it is clear that Gaya had a lot more iron than their neighbors —in fact, they had so much that they would often line the bottom of tombs with iron ingots. The displays emphasize that Gaya was really seen as a kind of ironworking center for the region, both the peninsula and the archipelago. The tombs, likewise, have some similarity to those in the archipelago—though not in the distinctive, keyhole shape. Early tombs, from the 1st to 2nd century, were simply wooden coffins dug in a pit with a mound on top. This became a wooden lined pit, where bodies and grave goods could be laid out, and then, in the 3rd century, they added subordinate pits just for the various grave goods. In the 5th century this transitioned to stone-lined pit burial, and in the 6th century they changed to the horizontal entry style stone chamber tomb, before they finally stopped building them. These seem to be similar to what we see in Silla, with wooden chamber tombs giving way to the horizontal entry style around the 5th and 6th centuries. Meanwhile, Baekje and Goguryeo appear to have had horizontal style tombs for some time, and that may have been linked to Han dynasty style tombs in the area of the old Han commanderies—which I suspect might have spread with the old families of Han scribes and officials that were absorbed into various polities. It is interesting to see both the similarities and differences between Gaya and Wa tombs in this period, particularly the transition to the horizontal entry style tombs, which I suspect indicates an outside cultural influence, like that of Silla—something that would also influence the burials in the archipelago. At first, in the 4th to 5th centuries, we just see these style tombs starting to show up in Kyushu, particularly in the area of modern Fukuoka—one of the areas that we will hit at the end of this journey from the peninsula to the archipelago. That may be from contact with Baekje or Goguryeo, or even from some other point, it is hard to tell. By the 6th century, though, just as Silla and Gaya were doing, it seems that all of the archipelago was on board with this style of internal tomb structure. Another tomb style you can find in Gimhae is the dolmen. These are megatlithic—or giant rock—structures where typically a roof stone is held up by two or more other large stones. In some cases these may have been meant as an above-ground monument, much like a structure such as Stonehenge. On the other hand, in some cases they are the remains of a mound, where the mound itself has worn away. Unfortunately, there was not as much information on them—it seems that dolmens were originally used before the mounded tomb period, but just what was a free-standing dolmen and what was an internal mound structure exposed by the elements I'm not sure I could say. If you visit the Daeseong-dong tombs, one of the things you may notice is the apparent lack of a tomb mound. The attached museum explains much of this, though, in that over time the wooden pit-style tombs would often collapse in on themselves. That, plus erosion and continued human activity in an area would often mean that, without upkeep, there would eventually be no mound left, especially if it wasn't particularly tall to start with. I…

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Winds Across the Straits May 01, 2024

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Filling in the rest of Takara's reign with the stories of the various envoys at court, the Baekje princes living in Yamato, and the story of a 7th century millenial cult. For more, check out https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-107 Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua, and this is episode 107: Winds Across the Straits Villagers gathered near the center of their community. In contrast to the clean, walled up compounds of the local elites, with their raised floor buildings, the buildings here were much simpler, often sitting directly on the ground, or dug down into the earth in the pit dwelling style that had been used for centuries. Mostly what anyone would notice were the thatched roofs, which had been used for centuries to keep out the rain and snow. A tall watchtower was currently unmanned as everyone had gathered around, curious at the news coming from the east. A wandering mystic had come to town, and she was spreading words of hope across the country of Yamashiro. Over the past few years there had been droughts, famine, earthquakes, and more. People had tried everything in conjunction with the advice of their local hafuri, or priests. They had petitioned the local kami of the rivers and lakes, they had tried imported practices like sacrificing horses, and at a nearby village they had changed the location of the marketplace to see if that would work. Even when the rains had come, the damage had been done. Food was scarce, and many of those who had survived were hardly in the best of situations. Life in the village, working the land, was quite different from the life of the elites. The wealthy had servants and slaves to tend to their needs, and they had access to stores of grain and other food in times of trouble. They also had charge of the mononofu—the warriors who worked for them and were often an implicit—if not explicit—threat of violence for anyone who didn't pay their expected taxes. This is perhaps what made the mystic's message so alluring. She told them about the teachings of a man from the River Fuji, in the East, named Ohofu Be no Ohoshi: he claimed to have discovered a new kami, the god of Tokoyo, the Everlasting world. It was said that those who worshipped this god, who appeared in the land in the form of a caterpillar that thrived on orange tree leaves, would earn great things in this new world, when it came. The poor would become rich and the old would become young again, when the promises of Tokoyo came to fruition. But it wasn't as easy as just saying some words. True devotees would need to prove themselves, casting out the valuables of their house and setting out any food on the side of the road. They would then yell out: "The new riches have come!" Then they were to worship these insects that were the kami's incarnation. They would put them in a pure place and worship them with song and dance. Many had already started doing this, the mystic said. Indeed, the people of Yamashiro had heard rumors of some of these new practices, but only now were learning about why they had arisen. It was a lot to ask, to give up their valuables and the little food they had — but then again, in this dew drop world, what was there to lose, for those already working themselves to the bone? Was this any more incredible than asking the hafuri to pray to the kami, or even relying on that new religion in Yamato, where they prayed to giant bronze and gold statues to bring about prosperity and happiness. Besides, if so many others had joined up already, perhaps there was something to these fantastic stories. And thus, village by village, a new religion began to take hold of the countryside, eventually making its way to the capital of Yamato, itself. Greetings, listeners! While the thing we covered last episode -- the Isshi Incident of 645, which is to say the assassination of Soga no Iruka in front of Her Majesty Takara, aka Kougyoku Tenno -- certainly dominates the narrative in the popular imagination for this particular point in Japanese history, there was a lot more going on over these last few years, both over on the continent in the archipelago. And so this episode we are going to cover some of that: From the missions from Baekje, Goguryeo, and Silla, which were likely driven by conflict on the peninsula, to the Baekje Princes who resided in the Yamato court as political hostages as well as esteemed guests. And to finish it off we'll talk about the popular 7th century millennial cult that sprang up in Yamashiro around the worship of the God of Tokoyo, the Everlasting World. All in the reign of the Empress known to history as Kougyoku Tennou…. At least for now. Michael Como, in his book on Shoutoku Taishi, makes particular note of some of the overarching themes across the straits and how that affected what was happening—or at least what gets remembered—in Yamato. As we discussed back in episode 98, Como makes the point that the early, opposing Buddhist factions that placed Shotoku Taishi on a pedestal were largely connected with one or more continental factions. While the Soga were heavily connected with Baekje, other family groups, like the Hata, were more closely tied with Silla, at least according to later accounts. And on top of that, the area around Koshi and Tsunaga had ties with Goguryeo. As the Tang dynasty and Goguryeo were in contention on their own borders, no doubt both of them and their allies were looking to nearby nations for either support or at least neutrality. One can also see how peninsular enmities might also make their way across the strait to the archipelago with families of various ethnic backgrounds no doubt carrying on some of the continental prejudices with them even into a new land. A lot of the accounts for this reign that aren't dealing with the weather and natural disasters—topics of particular concern from the 642 to 643—are dealing with the continent. It started out in 642, with Baekje envoys arriving in the first month of that year, apparently to deliver their condolences on the death of the sovereign. They were accompanied by Yamato's envoy to Baekje, Azumi no Yamashiro no Muraji no Hirafu, who left them at Tsukushi to rush back to Yamato via post-horse, while the Baekje envoys took their time via the normal, ship-borne route. And right off the bat we have a few things of note. The first is this idea of post-horses. The various circuits around the archipelago had reportedly been set up some time back, even before horses were a thing. While a single horse would have been rather fast overland, the mention of post-horse system implies a method of travel more akin to the short-lived pony express in the American west, where various post stations were set up across the major highways so that officials could quickly traverse them, riding horseback from one station to the next, where a fresh horse would be waiting for them. This way the horses themselves could be properly fed and rested, since no single horse could cover all of the ground in a straight up gallop, just as no person could. Instead, this is something like a relay race, where the envoy Hirafu became the baton passed from horse to horse. The Pony Express used stations set up at intervals of approximately 5 to 20 miles, so that the horses could be changed out frequently. Of course, changing horses would also take some time—I've found some sources citing average speeds of only about 10 miles per hour for the Pony Express, but that beats by far the four miles per hour for a fast walker, not to mention the ability to keep going for much longer than just 8 hours a day. Of course, he would have had to take a boat for at least some of the journey, likely crossing from Kyuushuu over to Honshuu near Shimonoseki or something similar, at which point he could have caught another horse from there. The resonates with something that goes back to pre-Qin Dynasty times, when kingdoms on the continent would set up not just courier stations with horses, but systems of canal boats, and inns for people to stay overnight on long journeys. Still, it must have been a grueling experience. That such a means of conveyance could take Hirafu from Kyushu to Yamato, though, implies that Yamato's reach was fairly solid all the way out to the Dazai near modern Fukuoka, at least. It is unclear how these post stations were set up in regards to the local Miyake, or royal granaries, another government project we've talked about, but either way it demonstrates a certain degree of control over the region. And so Hirafu was able to make it back to the court in time for the ceremonies associated with the mourning of Tamura, aka Jomei Tennou, and the ascension of Her Majesty, Takara no Ohokimi. He likewise was able to inform the court of Baekje's condolence envoys' imminent arrival and give the court a head's up on the situation in Baekje, where he said that the country was "greatly disturbed". When the Baekje envoys themselves arrived, Azumi no Hirafu, Kusakabe no Iwakane, and Yamato no Aya no Agata were sent to ask them about their news. From what we know in the Samguk Sagi, King Wicha of Baekje had just come to the throne. The previous king, King Mu, died in the third month of 641, so it hadn't even been a year since his death. Furthermore, we are told that his wife, the mother of King Wicha, had also passed away. The Baekje envoys asked for the return of prince Saeseong, possibly the younger brother of Prince P'ung, saying he had behaved badly and they wanted to convey him back to the King, but Takara refused. Presumably, based on context, this was one of the hostages that Yamato held from Baekje, but why they wouldn't turn them over to the Baekje envoys isn't explained. I suspect it had something to do with the politics of King Wicha coming to the throne, which seems like it may have not been accepted by everyone, as evidenced by his tour of the realm, mentioned in the Samguk Sagi, which was likely a political move to demonstrate his authority over the realm. This colors a lot of what we are going to talk about, so let's try to get some of it straight off the bat. Unfortunately, as we talked about in Episode 105, some of the Baekje related dates are questionable, and that means that there is a lot here that I'm going to give you where we may have to back track a bit and see if we can put it in the right order. I'm going to try to give you the information in largely chronological order according to the Nihon Shoki, but then I'll also try and place it where we think it might actually go, so apologies if this feels disjointed. Also, let me take a moment to talk a little bit more about the Baekje royal family, which will become rather important to our narrative. For one, there is King Wicha, son of King Mu. Mu passed away in 640 and Wicha came to the throne. Wicha already had several children of his own, one of whom, Prince Pung, or Prince Pungjang, will feature heavily in both the Japanese and Korean sources, though as we mentioned in episode 105, the dates around Prince Pung's arrival, which the Nihon Shoki has about 630, doesn't match up with what we know. We are fairly confident that Prince Pung returned to Baekje in 661, which accords with the Nihon Shoki, Samguk Sagi, and Tang records. However, Best makes a good case that he didn't actually come over to the archipelago until much later—probably 643. He wasn't the only royal prince of Baekje in Yamato, however. We are told of two others: Saeseong and Gyoki. Saeseong is mentioned as being a bit of a troublemaker, and requested to come home, but Yamato refuses to let him go. Gyoki is said to have caused trouble and been banished with some 40 others out to sea. I have a suspicion that much of this is misplaced in the Chronicle. Saesong may have been there first or perhaps came over with Prince Pung—I've seen him mentioned as the younger brother to Prince Pung, but I also wonder if he wasn't the younger brother to King Wicha. Gyoki, meanwhile, despite what we initially hear about him, is invited to Yamato shortly after that entry and treated like a real celebrity. It is unclear to me if he is a younger brother to Wicha or an elder brother to Prince Pungjang, but either way, he seems to have been a royal prince that wasn't quite in line for the throne. I suspect that in reality the mission that is listed as coming in 641 was actually much later—possibly in the 650s. That would explain some of it, including the gossip that the Senior Counselor, Chijeok, died in the 11th month of the previous year, Aston writes off most of this as an unreliable narrative by servants. Jonathan Best, in his translation of the Samguk Sagi, is a bit more generous and suggests that, much as with Prince Pung-jang, whom the Nihon Shoki records arriving in the 630s but who couldn't reasonably have arrived until the 640s, there was probably a dating issue. The scribes were using records with the branch and stem system of dates, and so it could easily have been off by a factor of ten or twelve years, at least. We know, for instance, that there is a record of Senior Counselor Chijeok in the Nihon Shoki in the 7th month of 642, though it says he died in 641. Furthermore, we have his name on a fragmentary inscription, likely dating to 654, noting him as a patron of a Buddhist monastery. So it would seem that word of his death was exaggerated or parts of this are coming from later accounts, and the scribes simply made a mistake. Hence my suggestion that this entire entry might be misplaced. If so, it would make more sense for Yamato to be asking about the fates of people that they knew, and hence hearing the fates of Chijeok and Gyoki, who had both visited Yamato and would have been known to the court. Regardless, it likely was the case, as recorded in the Nihon Shoki, that the envoys' ship was anchored in Naniwa harbor and the envoys were put up at the official government residence there, in modern Ohosaka. This may indicate that the mission mentioning Chijeok and Gyoki got conflated with other entries about the actual envoys of condolence and congratulations. Then, 19 days later, on the 22nd day of the 2nd month, another group of envoys showed up. This time it was Goguryeo. As mentioned, Goguryeo had a few things going on, but they still knew how to make an entrance. For example, the Chronicles mention that high ministers were sent to the district office in Naniwa to inspect the gold and silver that Goguryeo had sent with their envoys, along with other things from their country. This may have been them trying to get Yamato on their side. That said, Goguryeo had been going through a lot themselves, we are told. First off, based on the Samguk Sagi accounts, Goguryeo had sent envoys to the Tang in 640. In 641, the Tang court returned the favor, and in so doing their envoy, the Director of the Bureau of Operations in their Ministry of War, Chen Dade, used it as a chance to spy out the border region. At every walled town he would offer the local officials gifts of silk, and ask to be allowed to see the scenic spots. They let him roam freely, so by the time he went back he had an intimate account and understanding of Goguryeo's defenses along the Tang-Goguryeo border. Goguryeo seems to have been completely unaware of this touristic espionage, but then again, they may have been distracted dealing with their own internal problems. And so the Nihon Shoki reports that the envoys delivered news of this to the court: How the younger prince of Goguryeo died in the 6th month of 641. Then, in the 9th month, the Prime Minister murdered the king, along with some 180 people. He then put the son of the younger prince on the throne as king. In the Samguk Sagi, these events appear to happen a year later. Yon Gaes…

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Game of Thrones - Asuka Style Apr 16, 2024

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Onsen and Uprisings Apr 01, 2024

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This episode we look at the reign of Tamura, aka Jomei Tenno. For references and more, check out https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-105 Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua and this is episode 105: Onsen and Uprisings The general paced back and forth behind the walls of the fortress. Glancing around, he couldn't help but notice how empty it now seemed. The palisades were holding, but most of the soldiers had gone, disappearing in the night. Outside the walls of the fortress, he could hear the Emishi laughing and singing. They were in good spirits—and why wouldn't they be? The great army of Yamato sent to chastise them had been routed, and they had besieged them in their fortress, built in these still wild lands of northeastern Honshu, on the edge of an area known to many as Michi no Oku, roughly: the end of the road. And for the general, it looked like this might be the end of the road for him. His options were limited, and he was clearly outnumbered. It was beginning to look like his troops had the right idea. Of course, it meant leaving his wife and other women to fend for themselves, but fear can do a lot to motivate someone. The general eyed the walls and the trees beyond. If he could slip past the besieging forces in the darkness, perhaps he could escape. It wouldn't be the most honorable way out of this situation, but it would at least leave him with his head. And so, as night fell, he decided to make his move… Greetings everyone, and welcome back! Before I get into it, a quick shout out an thank you to YamiRaven for supporting us on Patreon, and thanks to Johnny for a supporting us on Ko-Fi.com. If you'd like to join them, and help us keep this thing going, we'll have more info at the end of the episode. Speaking of: This episode we are going to be talking about events during the reign of Prince Tamura, also known as Okinaga Tarashi-hi Hiro-nuka, or by the name given to him by the 8th century chroniclers: Jomei Tennou. As we discussed back in episode 103, Prince Tamura came to power in an interesting turn of fate. The grandson of Nunakura Futodamashiki, aka Bidatsu Tenno, his father, Prince Hikobito no Ohoye was killed during the tumultuous period following Nunakura's death. After several short-lived reigns, it was Kashikiya Hime, wife to Nunakura, who took the throne, known to us as Suiko Tennou. Kashikiya Hime had named an heir, Crown Prince Umayado, aka Shotoku Taishi, but he died before she did and by the time that Kashikiya Hime passed away, there was nobody clearly set up to take the throne, though two candidates did stand out. There was Prince Yamashiro no Ohoye, the son of Crown Prince Umayado, whom a strict lineal succession might seem to indicate was next up to inherit, but Yamato inheritance tradition was not so cut and dried. Soga no Emishi, the son of Soga no Umako, the powerful Oho-omi who helped run the government during Kashikiya Hime's reign, campaigned to put Prince Tamura on the throne, rather than Yamashiro no Ohoye, despite—or perhaps because of—the fact that Yamashiro no Ohoye was actually a close relative to Emishi. Now Prince Tamura was on the throne and Soga no Emishi was the Oho-omi, taking his father's place. And yet, despite the chaotic start to the reign in 629, the majority of it was almost tame and nondescript. Don't get me wrong, Tamura, as I'll keep referring to him, was on the throne for a respectable thirteen years, and during that time there were certainly events that move our narrative forward in many ways. However, much of the years of his reign are filled with discussions of things like rain storms and celestial phenomena. In fact, the only thing that apparently happened in all of 634 was that they saw a comet in the sky. The year before that, in 633, the only entry was the return of envoys from the Tang. For two years, then, there is hardly a mention of politics and anything else going on. And yet, this is a period that would set the stage for what was coming next. Shortly after Tamura was appointed sovereign, he appointed his consort, Princess Takara, as his queen. Takara was, herself, a great-great grand-daughter of Nunakura Futodamashiki, a granddaughter of Prince Hikobito and daughter of Prince Chinu—presumably niece to Tamura, then, which is basically par for the course. She was also a royal descendant on her mother's side, tracing back to Nunakura's father, Ame Kuniyoshi, aka Kinmei Tennou. In fact, her mother, Kibitsu Hime, is said to have been buried in her own kofun at the head of Ame Kuniyoshi's kofun—and today it is the site of the 7th century saruishi figures that I mentioned in the talk about traveling around Asuka. Takara would give birth to three children of note. The first was her eldest son, Prince Katsuraki, who would, spoiler alert, later be known as Crown Prince Naka no Ohoye. He was around three years old when his father took the throne. He had a sister by Takara, named Hashibito, and a brother, whose name you may have heard me mention previously: Oho-ama. Yes, Naka no Ohoye and Oho-ama are the future sovereigns Tenji and Temmu, but for now they are still relatively young. In fact, Oho-ama wouldn't be born until several years into his father's reign, in 631. Some of the early events of the reign were carryover from Kashikiya Hime's time on the throne. In 629, for instance, Tanabe no Muraji went to Yakushima, returning the following year, and with people coming to Yamato from Yakushima the year after that. There were also a fair number of foreign embassies, including an Embassy from Goguryeo and Baekje. These may have been missions of condolences and congratulations—typical international diplomacy at the time when a neighboring ruler passed away and a new one ascended the throne, it would seem. They arrived in the third month of 630 and departed in the 9th month of that same year—a 6 month visit, all told. We also have the first actual account of ambassadors sent off to the Tang dynasty: Inugami no Mitasuki and Yakushi no E'nichi, each of Dainin rank. These are some of the first true kentoushi, or Ambassadors to the Tang court, that were sent, but over time their influence would be felt across Yamato and the archipelago. These ambassadors—or at least Mitasuki—would return in 632 with a Tang ambassador, Gao Biaoren, along with student-priests Ryou'un and Soumin, as well as Suguri no Torikahi. Perhaps most tellingly, they would arrive with Silla escort envoys, which would seem to indicate that passage to the Tang court was not done without Silla's assistance. As you may recall, Silla had entered into a nominal alliance with the Tang against Goguryeo. The Tang Ambassadors eventually reached Naniwa, where they were met with boats decked out with drums, flutes, and flags, and where they exchanged formal greetings before being escorted into the official residence. The Nihon Shoki takes pains to note the different individuals involved in the duties, from the initial greeting, guiding them to the residence, and then preparing them in the residence, along with a welcome drink of sake brewed on temple rice land. And then, three months later, they depart once more. Nothing else is said of their visit. Meanwhile, in the time between when Mitasuki went to the Tang court and when he returned with Gao Biaoren and company, a few things had happened. For one we get a note about Tamura moving to a new palace complex known as Okamoto no miya, supposedly at the foot of Asuka hill, hence the name, which means "foot of the hill". This would not have been much of a change from Kashikiya Hime's palace, still within the sacred area defined by the Soga temple of Asukadera as well as various other temples being stood up in that area as well. A move was to be expected, though in this case it is interesting that he didn't go very far. There is also mention, still in 630, of the repairing the official residences in Naniwa where ambassadors from the continent would be quartered during their trips to Yamato 631 opens with something of a treat – so it would seem, anyway. We are told that in the third month of Tamura's third year on the throne, Prince Pung—named Pungjang in the Chronicles—was sent to the Yamato court by his father, King Wicha of Baekje. On the one hand, the Korean sources do agree that Prince Pung was, indeed, sent to Yamato, where he would live as a guest and diplomatic hostage. We've talked about this practice in the past, which seems to have strengthened bonds between nations, although we rarely hear of Yamato returning the favor by sending hostages to the continent. It may have also helped keep a potential heir out of harm's way in case of a coup or other such politics. Several times, heirs returned to Baekje to be enthroned with Yamato assistance, if the Chronicles are to be believed. Except that this entry is probably not quite right. You see, Wicha wouldn't even come to the throne until 641—he wasn't even made Crown Prince until 632—so why would he send his son as a diplomatic hostage in 631? Johnathan Best, translating the Baekje records of the Samguk Sagi, suggests that perhaps the Chroniclers were off by a factor of 10 or 12 years. You see, as we mentioned earlier, the East Asian calendrical system was based on a series of ten stems and twelve branches. The stems represented the elemental forces, and the branches were identified with the twelve signs of the zodiac. Incrementing each one each year led to a series of 60 years before it started repeating, and based on the way that the records for this reign are dated, it looks like the records the Chroniclers were drawing from used this system for their dates. However, if you misread—or even miswrite—one of these characters it can change your date by ten or even twelve years. It would make much more sense for Prince Pung to have arrived twelve years later, in 643. Similarly, we find other records, particularly having to do with Baekje, which may be a bit jumbled, possibly indicating they came from a similar source that either had things in the wrong chronological order or was simply vague or poorly scribed so that the Chroniclers had to figure out exactly what was happening when—which they may have made mistakes with, from time to time. So Prince Pung arriving as a hostage is probably misplaced, and likely didn't happen during Tamura's reign. Which means that other than people from Yakushima showing up in 631 the only other major event of the year was Tamura going to the hot springs of Arima, in Settsu, where he stayed for about three months. Now I know I've mentioned hot springs, or onsen, before in the narrative. After all, the volcanic islands that make up the Japanese archipelago are full of them, and it isn't like they were suddenly discovered during this reign, but it does look like this might be the first formal mention of them in the Nihon Shoki—which gives Arima, in the mountains north of Kobe, some serious bona fides to be considered the oldest known hot spring town in Japan. And that would be a cool side note in most reigns, but for Tamura it seems to have been a habit. He apparently went for a dip at least three times in his reign—the second time, in 638, he apparently went to the "Arima no Miya", or the Arima Palace, which suggests that he had something built specifically for his visits. And then, in 639, he headed to the hot springs in Iyo. The country of Iyo is better known today as Ehime prefecture, on the western edge of the island of Shikoku. The largest city in Ehime is Matsuyama, home to the famous Dougou Onsen, which also lays a claim to being the oldest operating hot springs in the archipelago. Dougou Onsen is not only the traditional place in Iyo where Tamura, aka Jomei Tennou, took the waters, as they might say in the west, but in the Iyo Fudoki it is said that its fame goes back even further. As we mentioned back in Chapter 18, it is said that the legendary figures Ohonamuchi and Sukuna Bikona met there, back in ancient times. In more recent times, relatively speaking, Dougou Onsen was the inspiration behind the fantastical bathhouse created by Hayao Miyazaki in the Studio Ghibli film, Spirited Away. For all that these visits to the hot springs are somewhat interesting, they don't exactly tell us a lot about what was happening with government, and in fact tend to make it seem almost as though Tamura was skipping out, at least in the fall to early winter. And to be honest, can you blame him? Winter is one of the best times to go take advantage of the volcanic springs. Many of the other records appear to be natural phenomena, mostly having to do with the heavens: rain, storms, lightning, and more. Some of the more intriguing are comets—stars with "long tails" that appeared in the skies. There are also mentions of eclipse and what may have been a meteor—a star in 636 "floated east to west, with a noise like thunder." The Priest Soumin, from the Tang, said it was the sound of the Celestial Dog, a creature from the ancient Han or possibly pre-Qin text, the Classic of Mountains and Seas, a fantastical account of mythical geography and various animals, including the nine tailed fox and the celestial dog, whose bark was said to be like Thunder. This book was considered to be a true account up through the Tang dynasty. One could probably track the celestial phenomena and see if there is any correlation with known sightings, but it is also just as likely that some of it was taken from continental records and inserted into the Chronicles as appropriate. Besides such phenomena, there were accounts of more missions, especially from Baekje. Yamato was still using the cap rank system attributed to Prince Umayado during Kashikiya Hime's reign, and some of the envoys were given cap rank, or granted a promotion—a gesture that was likely pure diplomacy, as the rank wouldn't necessarily convey any special rights back in their home country. There are a few more things of note. First, in 636, we are told that all those who had affairs with the uneme at court were put on trial and punished—which likely means they were put to death. The uneme, as you may recall, were women sent to serve at the court, and as such they were apparently off-limits, at least while they were serving. That clearly didn't stop people from having some late night escapades, though. The main reason it likely comes up, though, is that we are told that one of the accused was a man named Miwa no Kimi no Osazaki, and that he took his own life by stabbing himself in the throat because the examination—by which I'm sure they meant torture—was too much to bear. And here I have to wonder how similar Yamato's sense of justice was to that of their neighbor, the Tang dynasty. In the case of the latter, there was often a suspicion that any person accused of a crime must be guilty of at least something—after all, why would they have been accused if they didn't do something to upset the peace, even if it was just that they didn't get along with their neighbors. It was considered de rigeur to submit suspected criminals to torturous ordeals with the idea that this would elicit a confession. Unfortunately, this idea that harsh and torturous examinations can be used to uncover the truth often still persists, despite evidence that, under enough duress, most people will say anything. In this case, it drove Osazaki to take his own life. Later in that same year, the Okamoto palace caught fire and burned down, and so Tamura moved to a new palace, called the Tanaka palace, or the Palace in the Middle of the Rice Fields. We also have a little more court action, as Prince Ohomata, a son of Nunakura Futodamashiki by one of his consorts, reached out to Soga…

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Sengoku Daimyo’s Chronicles of Japan

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