Last episode we briefly talked about what happened when Ōama passed away, including the apparent conspiracy around the Royal Prince Ōtsu, and then the question as to why his son, Crown Prince Kusakabe, didn’t then succeed him to the throne.

This episode we are taking a look at that period, but more focused on the rituals and what went into a royal funeral, and then take a look all the way to the eventual ascension to the throne of not Crown Prince Kusakabe, but instead his mother, Ōama’s queen, Uno no Sarara. She would eventually be known as Jitō Tennō.

Model of the tomb thought to be that of Takara Hime, aka Saimei Tennō, from the Takechi district of Asuka. It is three levels, rather than five, but otherwise seems to be of a similar octagonal pattern in overall shape.

Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo’s Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua and this is Episode 148: A Nation Mourns
Crown Prince Kusakabe approached the temporary palace structure that had been hastily assembled in the courtyard in front of the Kiyomihara Palace.   Solemnly arrayed around him, dressed in their court garments, were the ministers and government officials. Together, they approached the palace building, where the Crown Prince’s father, Ohoama, also known as Ame no Nunahara oki no Mabito, lay in state. He had passed away, and according to the imported Confucian values of filial piety, Kusakabe was now expected to mourn in ritual fashion.
The court ritualists had seen to every detail of what should be done and even said, to the extent that the crown prince’s actions almost felt like a performance of grief, rather than a heartfelt tribute. And yet, Kusakabe could not help but feel some emotion at the sight of his father, once the most powerful man under heaven, now laid out in this place of temporary interment. There would be many more ceremonies and rituals before the final mausoleum would be built and the former sovereign’s body finally laid to rest. Until then, even though Ohoama’s spirit had left, his body would remain as a symbol to the people, and as the centerpiece of an elaborate ritual, designed, in part, to continue to bolster the state he had helped to create.

Last episode we went into some of the shenanigans around the death of Ohoama and the succession to the throne. As we saw, not everyone was apparently on board with the idea that Crown Prince Kusakabe would take the throne, leading to the arrest and execution of Prince Ohotsu. However, we noted that Crown Prince Kusakabe didn’t end up on the throne after all: for whatever reason, he never ascended to the honor, and died in 689 – not even three years after the death of his father. And so we saw Uno no Sarara, Ohoama’s wife and queen and mother of Crown Prince Kusakabe, formally take the reins of state and go on to reign as the sovereign, the Sumera Mikoto, or Tennou, until 697. From there she would become the first ever Retired Sovereign, keeping her hand in government until her death in 703.
This episode we are going to look a little more in depth regarding everything that went on around Ohoama’s death and the various rites accompanying his passing.
Ohoama’s was obviously not the first royal death that we have seen in the Chronicles. It is perhaps, however, one of the best documented in terms of the funerary arrangements and the various rituals that accompanied his passing. Some of those arrangements are mentioned previously in the Chronicles, but not to the same extent as we see for Ohoama. This leaves me wondering: are we seeing something novel—new rites for a new type of sovereign, perhaps? Or was this just the first time the ritual had been documented to this level of detail?.
Before jumping into what we see this time around, we should probably look back at what we have seen around the death of previous sovereigns, and which are still going on here.
First and foremost is the creation—or at least the designation—of a “Palace of Temporary Interment”.    This is the Mogari no Miya, with “mogari” being the term for the period between an individual’s death and their eventual burial. In the Nihon Shoki we see this practice go back to the earliest times. After all, most deaths do not occur on a set schedule, and once someone has passed away, funerary arrangements would need to be made. Now, if all you are doing is putting a body into a box and lowering it into the ground, you can probably bring it all together rather quickly. However, for centuries the burial practices on the archipelago had been significantly more elaborate. Even those without royal blood might be afforded a special mound, or kofun. There would be giant stones selected to create the chamber, and then tons of earth and pebbles placed on top. There might also be haniwa—clay cylinders—which then might even be topped with special figures. All of this had to be planned out and taken care of, and in some cases, such as the creation of haniwa, it appears as there was a major industry involved in funerary preparations. In the case of royal family members things got even more elaborate, and based on the size of many of the kofun that we see one can assume that their construction took time. In fact, I would not be surprised if the construction of a new tomb mound might not have kicked off on or near the ascension of the sovereign just to make sure it would be ready, but even still it would take time for all of the rites associated with a royal burial to be ready to go.
And so it was common practice that one would have to wait before a burial could actually take place. Since you couldn’t just leave a body out in the open in the community, the corpse would be deposited, instead, in a temporary building. These are sometimes referred to as mogari huts, which would likely be placed well away from others. Here we should also take into account the general pollution associated with death in its various forms. So you would want to have the body kept out of sight and away from people as best you could while you prepared for the actual burial at some later date.
For sovereigns, this mogari hut, or hut of temporary interment, was eventually referred to as a “miya”, or “palace”. In some cases it seems as if one of the buildings of the sovereign’s old palace was used for this purpose, while a new palace was then also built for the new reign.
In addition to the place of temporary interment, one of the common traditions we see in funerals in the Chronicles is the role of the eulogy. While a person lay in state during their temporary interment, we are told that people could come to eulogize and lament. In the case of a sovereign, the high ministers and politically connected would come together and deliver speeches. This served multiple purposes. On the one hand, these rituals reinforced concepts of the State and the central authority in the body of the sovereign. On the other hand, they also served as markers of status for those delivering the speeches, and provided opportunities to be seen and heard, signaling their support of the system that provided them their own power and authority.
So all of this process and ritual that we see for Ohoama is familiar, from previous royal deaths. However, it’s interesting to note that in the most recent years before Ohoama’s funeral, a lot of these traditions seem to have been scaled back. For one thing, there was the decline of large, keyhole shaped kofun, ever since the introduction of Buddhism in the 6th century and the move to memorial temples over large tombs. Furthermore, as part of the Taika era reforms we see regulations on how long temporary interment may last for those of princely rank and below—though nothing is clearly stated for the sovereign themselves.

Let’s look at the most recent royal death’s before Ohoama’s, but since the beginning of the Taika era. There are at least three we’ve talked about. First off is the death of Karu, aka Koutoku Tennou. Karu’s death is barely remarked upon—he was buried about two months after he passed away, and very little fanfare is given. One can’t help but wonder if this was, in part at least, due to the fact that Naka no Oe was actually in charge and running things at the Crown Prince.
Takara hime, aka Saimei Tennou, would pass away in the middle of the Baekje war against the Silla-Tang alliance. Her body was sent back to Yamato, but the Crown Prince and many of the elites established themselves in Tsukushi—modern Kyushu—to better conduct the war on the peninsula. Not only was her interment thus delayed, but Naka no Oe’s own ascension wouldn’t take place for several more years, possibly because of the new capital he was building in Ohotsu.
Naka no Oe’s own funerary arrangements were interrupted by the events of the Jinshin no Ran. In fact, the building of his tumulus was used by the government as a cover to bring in soldiers to prepare for the conflict. There may have been various funerary rituals planned or even carried out by the Afumi court, but if so they were overshadowed by the civil war that broke out between the two claimants to the throne.
As such, Ohoama’s appears to be the first royal funeral of this magnitude in a while, and in this case they really pulled out all the stops. There were various activities and rituals associated with Ohoama’s passing up through the 11th month of 688, over two years later, when he was finally buried. So let’s go over what happened and maybe what dragged it out so much longer.
First off were the immediate lamentations and eulogies. Ohoama passed away on the 9th day of the 9th month, according to the Nihon Shoki. It was the year 686 according to the western calendar. Two months later the erection of the temporary palace of interment began in the southern courtyard—presumably the area south of the Asuka Kiyomihara palace, where they had previously held the various archery competitions. This took a couple of weeks, and Ohoama’s body was finally placed in the temporary palace as of the 24th of that month.
While ritual lamentations were raised at the start of the building of the mogari palace and when the sovereign’s body was interred, the major rites appear to have started three days after he was laid to rest, on the 27th day, proceeding for the next three days, from the 27th until the 30th.
The rites started with Buddhist monks and nuns who arrived before sunrise and began to perform lamentations in the courtyard of the mogari. Later that day, we see food offerings, apparently for the first time in the Chronicles.
Offering food to the dead is not unique to Japan. Some in Japan will offer food to their ancestors, especially during the Obon festival. People will also offer food to kami. In the case of Obon, a bowl of rice is often served with two chopsticks sticking straight out of it. This has actually led to a social taboo on leaving your chopsticks “stuck” in food, as it looks as though you are offering the food up to the dead. Instead, chopsticks will be placed on a chopstick rest, on the table, or even across the top of a dish, just not sticking up out of the food, especially the rice.
In this case it isn’t clear exactly how the food offering was done, nor what happened to the food afterwards. In the case of food offered to the kami, it is often the case that once the kami have had enough time to partake of the aura of the food—its spiritual essence—the food will then be removed and often consumed by people. So for Ohoama’s funerary offerings, something similar may have happened—possibly with a feast of some kind to which the various nobles were also invited.
Along with the offering of food, we are told of a whole list of individuals who gave eulogies—though we aren’t told what the content was. It is likely that these eulogies were largely ritual utterances—stock phrasing by the participant to demonstrate their active performance of the rituals, rather than a deeply thought sermon about the sovereign. After all, this seems to have gone on at a rather constant pace for the next several days. The ritual order seems to have stayed the same, with priests and nuns kicking things off with lamentations in the courtyard, and various nobles presenting their eulogy. The third day, the 29th, was the same.
On the fourth day, the 30th, the last day of the month, the priests and nuns raised lament, and the eulogies were given by a Baekje prince in exile, on behalf of his father, as well as the various Miyatsuko of the various provinces. In addition there were all performances of all manner of singing and dancing—which makes it sound more like a wake than anything else.
With the close of the 9th month, we have a break in the tale of Ohoama’s funeral, as the narrative switches over to the next part of the Chronicles covering the reign of Uno no Sarara, aka Jitou Tennou. The first order of business—other than telling us who Uno no Sarara was and covering some of her history—was to deal with the Prince Ohotsu conspiracy. So we see Prince Ohotsu arrested, along with 30 conspirators. Prince Ohotsu was killed at his residence, where his wife and consort ran to him and took her own life as well. That all happened the 2nd and 3rd days of the 10th month. The 30 co-conspirators were apparently held for about twenty-seven days while the court debated what to do with them. Finally, the decree was made to pardon all except Toki no MIchidzukuri, who was only banished instead of executed, and the monk Heng-sin, who was exiled to a temple in Hida, over on Kyushu. The month after that, Ohotsu’s sister, Royal Princess Ohoku, returned to the capital from Ise Shrine where she had been serving as the Shrine Princess—though we aren’t told who replaced her.
And so it isn’t until the twelfth month that we see what appears to be the rites for Ohoama’s passing seem to resume. This takes the form of a universal great assembly held in Ohoama’s name at the Five temples, listed as Daikandaiji, Asukadera, Kawaradera, Toyoradera in Woharida, and Sakadadera.
This is an interesting list, as one would have expected that the rites would have occurred at the National Temples established previously—for more on the National temples, we talked about that back in Episode 142.. Daikandaiji, Asukadera, and Kawaradera were, of course, national temples. Yakushiji is not mentioned, probably because it was still under construction. At this date it’s only been dedicated, and we won’t see it show up in the Chronicles until 688—a year and change from the current gathering. Toyoradera was the nunnery of Toyoura temple, and Sakada temple appears to be another nunnery, formerly known as Kongoji. It is said to have been in MInabuchi, and ruins of a temple are found in the southeast of Asuka, in an area known today as, funnily enough, Sakada. There is also a modern temple known as Kongoji nearby, though I can’t tell if there is any connection between the two other than the name— whether its a true successor temple or just given that name because of the proximity of the ruins.
Either way, in this phase of the funerary rites, we have a combination of temples and nunneries involved. I wonder if that was so that men and women could gather in spaces for them. Either way, it is clear that these rites were held specifically to build merit for Ohoama. This was probably also the intent behind the actions of the court a week later, when presents of cloth and silk were made to orphans, as well as childless, widowed, and elderly men and women of the capital—those who didn’t have someone else to look after them or who were assumed to not have a stable income.
Come the first day of the new year of 687, we see a return to the palace of temporary interment, and this time it is in a new and different fashion. We are told that the Crown Prince, accompanied by ministers and public functionaries, proceeded to the Palace of Temporary Interments and made lament. We are told that it was the Nagon, Fuwe no Ason no Miaruji, who performed the eulogy, after which everyone once again raised a lament. Then the common people raised a lament. Then Ki no Ason and others of the High Stewards of the Palace made food offerings. After this, the Uneme of the Steward’s department raised a lament and then music was performed by the officials of the Department of Music.
This clearly indicates an involved ceremony, with set roles and functions. It is being headed by Ohoama’s son, Crown Prince Kusakabe, and attended by all the high ministers, and it is being held on the first of the year in place of other festivities for that day. Other than the timing, the basic pattern of events is similar to the other rituals of lamentation. . The contents of the ceremony might be different, and it was always someone new who was chosen to give the formal eulogy, but there does seem to be some ritual and pattern to the rites performed.
For major ceremonies, we are told of the Crown Prince, the ministers, and the various public functionaries who are there, in attendance, but in other instances we are just told of who is providing the lamentations or the eulogy. For example, on the 5th day of the first month—four months after the big ceremony, we are told that everyone—Crown Prince down to the common people—proceeded to the Palace of temporary interment and made lamentations. Either way, the period for the next year and change is filled with various ceremonies either at the palace of temporary interment, where Ohoama’s body lay in state, or elsewhere in the capital, such as at various temples. There were also various gifts from the court.
All of this was as much political spectacle as it was grieving. There are some suggestions that, according to Confucian tradition, a son was expected to mourn the loss of his father for up to three years. So perhaps that is part of what was happening—the royal family was participating in some costly signaling to both raise Ohoama—and thus, themselves—up on a pedestal and to try to demonstrate the virtue of Crown Prince Kusakabe. After all, the Queen and her son had been effectively running the government before Ohoama had passed, so it wasn’t like there was any actual change and only minor risk. The timeframe also allowed the court time to send messengers out to inform the far reaches of the archipelago of Ohoama’s passing and give them time to come and do homage. They even sent messengers to Silla, no doubt to both let them know about what had happened and possibly to solicit a condolence embassy. All of that would also play into the pageantry and mythmaking of the moment, further strengthening the position of the Yamato court, which was, of course, under the control of Uno no Sarara and her son.
And so we see numerous, and quite public, displays. Besides the lamentations and the eulogies, we see repeated gifts to the underprivileged, like giving gifts of coarse and floss silk to those residents of the Capital who were at least 80 years old, as well as to invalids with little hope as well as to the poor people who had no other means to support themselves. All of it being done in Ohoama’s name, even though the reputation no doubt was actually accruing to his son and widow.
In the third month we see a special mention: an ornamental chaplet of flowers, known as a mikage, was offered at the Palace of Temporary Interment. Today, flowers are often found in abundance at Japanese funerals. Certain flowers may be “gifted” to the deceased as a last gift from mourners, and large, elaborate flower constructions are often used to decorate the funeral parlor where the corpse is laid out. Groups and individuals may pay exorbitant sums to place flowers with a name card indicating who donated it, and some flowers may be for the grieving family to take home. There are meanings behind the type of flowers, and often white flowers are preferred, as white is often seen as the color of death.
Some of this appears to be influenced by the West, but flowers have long been symbols and used in various ceremonies and rites. It is possible that some of this was influenced by Buddhist and Tang court rituals. Or maybe they just wanted something that was sweet smelling to help cover up the inevitable odor that no doubt resulted from leaving a body out for about six months at that point.
Whatever the purpose, we aren’t given too many details on just what this floral display was. Aston calls the “mikage” a “chaplet” and Bentley simply describes it as decorative flowers placed at the mogari palace—the palace of temporary interment. Once the flowers were placed, then Taji no Mabito no Maro performed the ceremony of the eulogy.
Next, in the 5th month, we see the Crown Prince and various government officials once again involved. This time they were accompanied by the chiefs of the Hayato and the Ata of Ohosumi, accompanied by their people, advancing and providing a eulogy. The Hayato and the Ata were both indigenous groups of people from southern Kyushu, who were considered to be outside of the Yamato polity, with distinct cultural differences. It is unclear if they were ethnically Wa people. Evidence from that area suggests that the people there, whatever their ethnicity, had adopted many of the Yayoi and Kofun cultural life-ways. This was not without some differences, such as distinct burial practices, such as underground burial chambers. Hayato were also known in Yamato for their shields, which are often depicted as long, thin pentagonal shapes with red, white, and black figural paintings.
The propaganda-slash-merit making continued over the next few months. In the 6th month we see an amnesty, where criminals were pardoned, and in the 7th month the court unilaterally cancelled out any interest on debts contracted in the year 685 or earlier. In cases where the debtors already owed service to their creditors, for some reason, they made it so that the creditors could not demand that they provide additional service. People still had to pay back the balance, but they didn’t have to pay back anything extra.
The next ceremony at the palace of temporary interment wasn’t for about three months later, in the 8th month of 687. We are told that offerings of food were made, and that only awokimono—green things—were offered. Bentley translates this passage to say that it was the feast of first fruits, the Niinamesai, and they do use the character for “namé”, but not the full name. As for “Awokimono” – Aston translates this as plain, boiled rice, and says it is meant that it was without meat of any kind. Indeed, the characters appear to be for blue or green cooked rice. There is another reading for “Awokimono” as “Hijikioono”, and Aston suggests that there may have been some hijiki, or seaweed, involved. Regardless this appears to have been specifically a funerary tradition.
A day after the food was offered—and we aren’t told who did that—the elderly people of the capital, both men and women—some possibly with new duds thanks to the silk they had received earlier—came and made lamentation west of the bridge. I suspect that this means they didn’t enter the actual courtyard where the palace of temporary interment was set up, but simply gathered on the west side of the Asuka River, which flowed past the west side of the courtyard.
Later that month, we see another Buddhist ceremony. Fujiwara no Ason no Ohoshima and Kibumi no Muraji no Ohotomo invited 300 Buddhist dignitaries, known as Ryuuzou and Daitoku, to Asukadera. There they gave each one of them the present of a kesa—a Buddhist sash worn as part of their vestments.   Kesa were typically stitched together from cloth donated by Buddhist laypersons, and we are told that these kesa were made from the garments of the late sovereign. The language of the decree itself was apparently so painful—Aston translates it as pathetic—that it couldn’t be fully set forth. That sounds to me like someone forgot to write it down.
Eleven days after the assembly at Asukadera, a national Buddhist feast was sponsored at all of the Temples in the capital. The day after that, a feast was sponsored at the mogari palace.
Later that same month, Silla ambassadors arrived at the archipelago. The Dazai, the viceroy of Tsukushi, met with them and informed them of what had happened. It is likely that they had left before any word had reached the peninsula, so this was the first they heard of it. Nonetheless, they all put on mourning clothes, turned to face the East, and bowed three times and raised lamentations. This was all being done in Kyushu, but nonetheless it was clearly important to the people who were recording these interactions.
A similar note in the record appears on the 23rd day of the first month of the following year, where we are told that Ohoama’s death was announced to the Silla ambassador, Gim Sangnim, and his colleagues. They, in turn, made their lament three times. It is possible that these are records of the same event, and I even wonder if one was recorded on the date they arrived and the other was recorded on the date that they were formally told what was happening. Either that, or the events of the 9th month of 687 were an informal notice, so that they could get ready, after which they traveled the three months and change to Asuka, where they then were given the formal notification.
Moving on to finish out the year 687: on the 22nd day of the 10th month, the Crown Prince and government officials, along with all of the governors and Kuni no MIyatsuko—and not forgetting the common people—all began work on the sovereign’s tomb. This is one of the few tombs that we have some confidence in, though it isn’t a keyhole shaped kofun like many others from previous eras. Today it looks mostly like a round hill, but originally it seems to have been an eight-sided tomb with five distinct levels. Eight sides suggests a Buddhist influence, as eight is an auspicious number, such as in the 8-fold path. I can’t help but wonder if the five levels were connected to concepts of five in Confucian and Daoist teachings. For instance, there was the idea of five Confucian virtues as well as the Wuxing, or Gogyou, where we have five specific elements. Given the importance and influence of continental thinking at the time, neither one would surprise me.
The tomb would take almost a year to complete, which almost doesn’t seem like enough time given everything that they did. It is possible that they had already prepped much of what they needed and that the 10th month of 687 was simply the date they broke ground, but either way it was an impressive feat.
Meanwhile, as the construction was ongoing, the public displays of mourning continued. Once again, new year’s day celebrations of 688 were postponed in favor of public mourning, with the Crown Prince and all of the ministers making their lamentations on the first day of the year, followed by a company of priests the following day.
On the 8th day of the first month of the year we are told that there was a public great congregation of priests held at Yakushiji. This is the first official event held at Yakushiji, and so presumably the temple was now finished—or at least finished enough. Since Ohoama isn’t mentioned, it is certainly possible that this wasn’t directly connected to the ceremonies around the official mourning of Ohoama. On the other hand, Yakushiji was commissioned by Ohoama for the health of his wife, Uno no Sarara, so I have a hard time thinking that there weren’t any connections at all.
In the second month of 688, we get a decree that has a few different interpretations. The decree states that, “in the future, on all days of national mourning, it is absolutely necessary that abstinence be practiced.” Bentley translates this to mean that there would be a feast on the day of national mourning every year after. The key contention appears to be whether or not the day of mourning was a monthly or annual thing. The court appears to have been creating a national holiday around the memory of Ohoama, and it may have chosen the second month for that day of mourning and remembrance. Alternatively, this was for a day of mourning each month of the current year. The wording is vague. It is like the question of whether or not “Bi-weekly” means twice a week or once every two weeks, and I don’t know that there is any consensus. Still, it is interesting that they created their own holiday to remember Ohoama, and as far as I can tell this is the first such example of a holiday being used to remember a person in this way.
Once again on the 22nd day of the third month, flowers were again presented at the palace of temporary interment. This was only two days different from when the mikage had been set up in the previous year, so it would seem that the timing was significant—possibly because it was spring and the flowers were blooming. Fujiwara no Ason no Ohoshima, the same individual who had helped gather the various priests together at Asukadera to hand out kesa made of the sovereign’s own garments, presented the eulogy.
The ceremonies are then put on hold for a bit. There is an account from the 11th day of the 6th month where prisoners guilty of capital crimes would have their punishment mitigated one degree while those in prison for lighter offenses would be pardoned altogether. In addition, only half of the commuted taxes were to be levied. This might have been more merit-working for Ohoama or it may have been because the nation itself was undergoing a drought and they were seeking the Buddha’s favor to bring the rains.
Once again in the 8th month we see offerings of food are made, and a lament raised inside the palace of temporary interment. This time the eulogy was performed by Ohotomo no Sukune no Yasumaro. The day after that, Prince Ise was given commands regarding how the upcoming funeral was to be handled, which was to happen three months later.
The 11th month kicked off with the Crown prince and the ministers once more going to the palace of temporary interment, this time on the 4th day of the month. They had with them guests from the “frontier lands” as Aston notes—Bentley says foreign countries. Offerings of food were made, and the Tatefushi dance was performed. This was a dance with shields and swords, according to later records. It seems that the dancers also wore armor, or something to approximate armor. All of the ministers then advanced, each in turn, and pronounced a eulogy, with each recounting the services that their ancestors had rendered to the throne.
The following day, there was further ceremony as over 190 Emishi brought tribute in on their backs, and pronounced a eulogy for the departed sovereign.
Six days later, on the 11th day of the 11th month, Fuse no Ason no Miaruji and Ohotomo no Sukune no Mimiyuki both pronounced eulogies, and then Tahema no Mabito no Chitoko recited, as a eulogy, the succession to the throne of the royal ancestors.
And when that was finished, Ohoama’s body was finally placed in the Ohouchi tomb and the tomb was sealed.
And with that, the sovereign was put to rest, after over two years of mourning and ceremony, specifically designed to put on display the court’s apparent grief. Whether they were actually grieved or not, the importance was the performance of grief through the rituals set forth by the state. Individuals and groups demonstrated their loyalty through their participation. Noble families used the platform to recount their service and thus demonstrate their own history and pedigree and thus why they were deserving of their status in the court.
Furthermore, during all this ceremony around the funerary arrangements, to try to also have an ascension ceremony for the new sovereign was probably a little too much to try and push through. It would have also meant that they would been holding a ceremony that should be joyful and august under the pall of the mourning period. For the Crown Prince to don the robes of office while his father’s body lay in the courtyard was probably, as they say, a bad look. And, as I mentioned earlier, it wasn’t like it was making any real, practical difference. The ship of state was hardly rudderless, with Kusakabe and his mother both guiding it through the various ceremonies.
Sure enough, in the following year, 689, the new year ceremonies were no longer about mourning and lamentation. The queen gave an audience to all the lands in the Front Hall, and the following day the Ministry of Education presented 80 wooden staves, presumably for an old form of the Setsubun festival. Today, Setsubun, the day before Spring, is celebrated with soybeans, which are tossed at characters in oni masks, and then inside the house. The cries ring out “Oni ga soto” – “Demons Out” and then again, “Fuku ga uchi” – “Good luck inside!” Thus evil spirits are kept at bay and good fortune is welcomed into the home. In the older version of a similar ritual, it seems that wooden staves were used to symbolically drive the demons out, rather than just a handful of auspicious beans.
The first month of year 689 continued to look a lot like previous years, prior to Ohoama’s death. There was a banquet given to the Ministers, and gifts of clothing were handed out to them. And then, halfway through the month, the various officials brought presents of firewood to the palace. And then a meal was given to the various public functionaries.
A few days after that, Queen Uno left to visit the Yoshino palace for a few days, returning two days later.
There is something that is not mentioned in all of this that I suspect was happening. First of all, they had no doubt torn down the palace of Temporary Interment, and they were likely preparing for Crown Prince Kusakabe’s ascension. There are some that suspect Prince Kusakabe was waiting until three years had passed before taking the throne, mimicking a tradition sometimes observed on the continent, but nothing is explicitly said.
Instead, we see that on the 24th day of the 3rd month there was another amnesty across the realm, and we are explicitly told that crimes that hadn’t been pardoned in ordinary amnesties were also excepted in this amnesty. Amnesties typically seem to be part of merit-making to either prevent disaster or to celebrate something auspicious. Was this clearing the way for the ascension ceremony to take place? Or had something befallen the royal family?
We aren’t given many details, but on the 13th day of the 4th month, we are simply told that Crown Prince Kusakabe died. We aren’t told that he had previously been ill, or that anything in particular had happened. It is just a simple line in the text. And yet, this must have had tremendously serious consequences. I think we can fairly safely assume that he was prepared to ascend the throne—unless he was thinking of pulling something like Naka no Oe and running things from behind the scenes. However, there is plenty of evidence that Uno no Sarara was more likely to be the one to step back and be the power in the shadow. She had operated from that position before.
Whatever the plan was, clearly that plan was no more. Crown Prince Kusakabe was dead, and his only heir was still a young child. He also had no brothers to take the throne. The Chronicles don’t mention it, but this must have been a moment of incredible weakness for the court and the Queen. History as we know it could have turned out very differently from this point.
Also, sidebar—Prince Kusakabe’s death is recorded on the 13th day of the 4th month. While 13 would not necessarily be an inauspicious day until the Western superstition was introduced in recent times, the number 4 has long been associated with death because the pronunciation, “Shi” is the same as—or at least very similar to—the pronunciation of the character for death. This is also the case in Chinese, and so the number four is often avoided and seen as unlucky. Sometimes hotels will skip both the 4th and 13th floors in Asia to avoid any inauspicious vibes. In Japanese, the numbers 4—“Shi” and seven—“Shichi”—will often be pronounced with their kun’yomi readings, so “yon” and “nana” respectively. So I just find it rather an unfortunate coincidence that Crown Prince Kusakabe died on the 13th day of the 4th month. Yikes.
Anyway, if there was any wavering or grief by Uno no Sarara, it isn’t mentioned in the Chronicles. They continue to march on. Later that same month, Prince Kasuga passed away. Prince Kasuga was a non-royal prince, and the death of Prince Kasuga and the Crown Prince were met with an equal lack of fanfare or explanation. Compare to the death of Prince Ohotsu, who was given an entire eulogy about how he was really well liked.
Instead, the Chronicle simply moves on. The rest of the year passes by as though nothing had happened. The government continued with Uno no Sarara at its head. In the first day of the first month of the following year, Uno no Sarara formally ascended to the royal dignity in a ceremony where Mononobe no Maro set up the shields, Nakatomi no Ohoshima recited a prayer for the blessings of Heaven, and Imbe no Shikofuchi delivered the divine seal, sword, and mirror to her majesty. At that point all of the ministers and government officials made their obeisance in turn, clapping their hands as they did so.
One has to wonder if this ceremony wasn’t a little bittersweet, given everything that had happened. A few things about the ceremony to note. First are the three families mentioned: Despite the fact that the Mononobe house had been defeated by the Soga centuries back, here they stand in their traditional role as soldiers, raising up the shield. Then we see Nakatomi no Ohoshima—earlier mentioned as Fujiwara no Ohoshima—as the director of the Ministry of Kami matters, handling the ceremony. And then there is the Imbe, in some ways the rival to the Nakatomi and their descendants, the Fujiwara, who is handling the regalia.
Also of note is that the three regalia here are not the jewel, sword, and mirror, but the seal, sword, and mirror. We mentioned this many episodes back when we had seen these same three used for the ascension ceremony, and noted then that a royal seal appears to be used, rather than mention of a jewel. The character used, on the continent, referred to the imperial seal of the dynasty, which itself would have been carved into jade, or a jewel. And in Japan the character is also said to refer to the “Yasakani-magatama”, the sacred jewel. So was it the jewel, and they just called it the seal? Or is that a later attribution to try and maintain the concept that the three regalia remained the same? I couldn’t honestly say, but either way we see the concept of these three regalia as central to the ceremony.
And with that, Uno no Sarara, known to us as Jitou Tennou, ascended the throne. She would continue the process of making updates to the court and to the laws and regulations. She would also see the creation of the Fujiwara palace and accompanying city—designed as the first permanent capital city in all of Japan. She would also take a hard line with Silla and make her mark on the world stage, as well. But we’ll talk about that in future episodes.
And so, until next time, if you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts. If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode.
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Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast.
And that’s all for now. Thank you again, and I’ll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo’s Chronicles of Japan.

References

Bentley, John R. (2025). Nihon Shoki: The Chronicles of Japan. ISBN 979-8-218634-67-4 pb
Aston, W. G. (1972). Nihongi, chronicles of Japan from the earliest times to A.D. 697. London: Allen & Unwin. ISBN 0-80480984-4.

Rough Transcript

References