Episode 151: The Dazai no Sochi of the Late 7th Century

June 16, 2026 Joshua Badgley

The gate to the Dazaifu Tenmangu, the shrine at the Dazaifu, today. Though built centuries later, the architecture clearly shows the influence of the continent, which was a major focus of the Dazaifu throughout its history. Photo by author.

Tajihi no Mabito no Shima(八口朝臣音橿)

Born in 624 to Tajihi no Maro, a powerful noble who is mentioned providing eulogies for Ōama, and the daughter of Ōtomo no Hirafu. He is said to be the great-grandson of Senka Tennō. He was the Dazai from at least 682, during the time of Ōama. He was made Udaijin 690/7/5. This was the first Udaijin since Nakatomi no Kane. His fief was increased to 500 houses on 691/1/13. In 696/10/17 he was given permission to use a carriage and a staff as he retired from the office of Udaijin. He was given 120 retainers only 5 days later. He went on to become Sadaijin under Monmu, serving almost a year until his death in 701/7/21.

After him, Ōtomo no Miyuki was named Udaijin posthumously, after which Fuse no Miushi was raised to the post, but he only lasted a couple of years before his own death. The post was empty almost a year until Isonokami no Maro was raised in 704, serving until 708, when he followed Tajihi no Shima as Sadaijin, a post that had been empty, apparently, for about 7 years. He would serve until his death in 717. In the meantime, in 708, Fujiwara no Fubito would follow in the position of Udaijin, which would begin the Fujiwara domination of both the positions of Udaijin and, eventually, Sadaijin.

He is said to have been one of the models for a suitor for Kaguya Hime in Taketori Monogatari. He may also have been patron of the famous poet Kakinomoto no Hitomaru, one of the famous 36 immortal poets, and one of the most famous with works in the Man'yoshu.

Awada no Mahito no Ason (粟田眞人朝臣)

In 653 he traveled to the Tang dynasty, accompanying the 2nd envoy as a scholar monk, but he returned to secular life. His father is said to have been Kasuga no Awada no Omi no Kudara (“Kudara”, spelled “百済”, is also known as “Baekje”). In 685 he tried to get his father promoted to his rank, but it was denied. In 689 he was made Dazai and seems to have held that position until he was replaced by Prince Kawachi. There is a theory, it appears, that he was, instead, the Dazai Daini--an assistant to the Dazai--when Prince Kawachi was made Dazai that same year.

Prince Kawachi (河内王)

Thought to be the descendant of the sovereign Bidatsu Tennō, he, or someone with the name, pops up in the reign of Ōama, traveling with Ōtomo no Yasumaro and Fujiwara no Ōshima, and others, to entertain Gim Jisyang of Silla. Later he was one of those pronouncing eulogies for Ōama. We next see him being appointed to the post of Dazai in 689. He continued in that position until 694, when he passed away.

Tsukushi no Fubito no Masaru (筑紫史益)

Secretary to the Viceroys of Tsukushi for 29 years, his incredibly long service was recognized in 691. The name “Tsukushi” is a locative, and may just refer to him being local rather than anything else.

Prince Mino (三野王)

Appointed Dazai in 694. There are actually several people named as “Prince Mino” in the Nihon Shoki, with slight differences in spelling. In this case there are at least three.

One is Prince Mino, named “Beautiful Field” (美野). He supported Ōama in the Jinshin no Ran and is later helping with offerings to the Wind-gods of Tatsuta.

Another version of the name only pops up once, and I'm ignoring that for now.

Last is Prince Mino spelled as “Three fields” (see above). This name shows up as one of the sons of Prince Kurikuma, a former Dazai, who denied the Afumi court reinforcements against Ōama, and who was clearly close to Ōama. Mino is described as being a key member in Ōama's court. He became a Daibu of the Household Ministry, and was sent to Shinano to investigate a possible second capital site. He became Dazai in 694, but we don't know when he retired, other than the fact that Isonokami no Maro was appointed to the post in 700. He is said to have passed away in 708.

Isonokami no Maro (石上朝臣麻呂)

Born in 640, as Mononobe no Maro, his career would see some wild swings. For one, he supported Prince Ōtomo in the Jinshin no Ran. He was pardoned with other nobles who sided with the Afumi court, but that doesn’t explain how he then did so well in the court, later. It may have been at least in part due to the loyalty that he showed. When the tide had turned and the Afumi court had lost, most of the high ranking men fled, but Maro and two toneri stayed with Ōtomo to the bitter end. It is thought that this show of loyalty was considered praiseworthy, even if it was on the “wrong” side of the conflict.

His first experience with Tsukushi may have been when he came out to inspect the fortifications. By that point he was using the name “Isonokami”, which was one of the names used previously by members of the Mononobe clan. However, when he played a part in Queen Uno’s ascension ceremony, he is once again mentioned as “Mononobe”, probably because he was fulfilling his clan’s traditional role.

He wouldn’t become Dazai no Sochi until after the end of the reign, but he would go on from there to become Udaijin, then Sadaijin. When he passed away in 717 he was the highest ranking noble in the Yamato court.

Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo’s Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua and this is Episode 151: The Dazai no Sochi of the late 7th century

Tsukushi no Masaru was busy. A new boss was coming in, and he wanted to make sure everything was prepared. The Dazai may have been about as far as one could get from the capital and still be in Yamato, but it was also the first—and sometimes only—encounter some would have with the archipelago, so there was no excuse to be slacking off. Of course, this was hardly his first new boss, though for as long as he’d been on the job, each one could well be his last. He was getting a bit long in the tooth, after all. Twenty-nine years was a long time to be working in the same position. As Masaru paused, he thought back on some of the people he’d served.
There was Soga no Akae—he was ambitious. Apparently he’d been in some rather compromising positions before coming out, but he’d done well enough when he went back. Shame that he backed the wrong horse.
That did bring a chuckle to old Masaru’s throat, though. He remembered when Prince Kurikuma had come out there, to the the Dazai, , and there were still people around who told stories of him. When those Afumi court stooges had showed up to try and conscript the barrier guards, Prince Kurikuma and his sons just stared them down. Everyone had been afraid that it would end in bloodshed, or at least that there would be consequences for defying the court, but Kurikuma was adamant, and the messenger had left with his tail firmly between his legs.
Then there was Shima. By the time he came, Masaru already knew how everything was supposed to work. He may not have been in charge, but that wasn’t his ambition. It was enough for him to be good at what he did. He didn’t need to go all the way to the Palace and deal with the politics there—there were enough politics out here already. Shima, though, he was clearly suited for that Palace life. He was a capable administrator, but Masaru could tell he was ambitious. When he left, everyone knew that he would be going on to bigger and better things.
And now there was another Prince coming out. So they would get the government offices prepared and greet him with proper fanfare. They’d bring him in and hold the ceremonies, and then they would get down to work. A stream of officers would present him with what they were working on and what had to happen. Masaru would be there to help make sure that everything was running smoothly and nothing got too out of hand. And that was the way things worked out on the edge of the realm.

Welcome back to Sengoku Daimyo. We are still covering the reign of Uno no Sarara, and, similar to last episode, we are going to continue to talk about the people who made up Yamato at this time. This episode, more specifically, we are going to be turning away from the capital, in Asuka, and looking all the way over to Tsukushi—modern Kyushu—and at the people who served as Dazai no Sochi, or head of the local government out there, as well as the bureaucrats and staff that worked for them—at least as far we know. Many of them went on to have considerable careers that took them well beyond Kyushu. At the same time, we’ll take a look at some of the things that happened under their rule as what Aston translates as the “Viceroy of Tsukushi”.
After that, I have a special announcement about the podcast at the end of the episode, so if you are interested in learning more about what we plan on doing, please listen all the way to the end to hear about some plans for the future.
And with that out of the way, let’s begin.
So we are talking about the position of Dazai no Sochi or the Viceroy of Tsukushi. Often these people are referred to only as being of the “Tsukushi no Dazai” or the “Tsukushi no Ohomochi”. The term “Sochi” appears later, and we first see this term applied to Prince Kawachi, in 689. It seems to show up with two different characters, which might be a term from the later Taihou code that was retroactively applied or may refer to an evolution of the position over time. I’m honestly not sure. There is still plenty of confusion over what was meant in some of the references.
We’ve discussed this position before on the podcast: This was the sovereign’s representative to the world outside of the archipelago. Not only did the Dazai no Sochi oversee all of Tsukushi—all of Kyushu— and extensive defensive forces stationed there and in the outlying islands, but they oversaw all diplomatic and trade missions to and from the archipelago. Envoy missions would come to Tsushima, where they would get a local pilot and send word ahead. They would then be received at the government center, the Dazai, near modern Fukuoka and Hakata bay. For most envoys, this was as close as they would ever get to Yamato proper. They would offload their goods there and be put up at the government supplied quarters in Wogohori. They would be wined and dined there, entertained as appropriate to their status, while word was sent on to the capital. In rare cases, envoys would be sent on another journey through the inland sea to Naniwa, and then on to Asuka, but otherwise their journey would end at the Dazaifu. Any return gifts would come back with the correspondence from the capital, and thus be handed out to the envoys and their escorts before the mission was sent back home to Silla, Tamna, or wherever they had come from.
Being the middle man in this operation offered a lot of power and authority, but it also would have been quite lucrative. While diplomatic missions brought gifts for the court, they also brought trade goods, of which the Dazai no Sochi could have first pick. This is on top of the fact that this position often came with a stipend equaling the labor of hundreds of individuals.
Many of the Dazai no Sochi would serve limited terms, eventually returning to Asuka, where we see them take on powerful positions. Take, for example, our first Dazai no Sochi, Tajihi no Mabito no Shima.
Tajihi no Shima was born, we are told, in or around 624 to Tajihi no Maro and a daughter of Ohotomo no Hirafu. Tajihi no Maro, Shima’s father was a powerful noble in the court of Ohoama, aka Temmu Tennou, and he had enough standing that he was one of the named individuals who provided eulogies for Ohoama on the occasion of his passing.   The Tajihi family were quite well placed: they were descendants of Hinokuma no Takata no Miko, aka Senka Tennou, Shima’s great-grandfather. This earned them the kabane of “Mabito”, or “True Person” because of their royal lineage.   Tajihi no Shima was placed in charge of the Dazai from at least 682. His predecessor that we know about is Prince Yagaki, who was dismissed around 676, and we don’t know who filled the gap between him and Shima.
Shima had quite the run. We don’t know exactly when he returned to the court in Asuka, but it cannot have been later than 689, when we see Awada no Mahito in the position. A year later, in 690, Shima was made Udaijin, or minister of the right. That’s a huge deal and we will talk about that in a bit, but what did Shima actually oversee during his tenure as Dazai no Sochi? We have quite a few events attributed to him, this reign. In 686, we see the Tsukushi no Dazai sending tribute in the form of human beings: Common men and women of Goguryeo, Baekje, and Silla, along with 62 priests and nuns. We aren’t told where these men and women came from, but I suspect that they were refugees or captives from all the fighting on the peninsula. That they were given as tribute suggests to me that they were enslaved—or at the very least they were not free. If they were uneducated, they were likely put to work as labor, perhaps building out the new capital or opening new farmlands.
Later we see the various missions from Silla around the death of Ohoama, and the back and forth that went on, there, and in 688 the Tsukushi no Dazai entertained Kara, a Minister of Tamna, aka modern Jeju island, who had been sent by the king of that small country. You may recall that Tamna, while late to the game, may have been one of the last holdouts of an early Japonic speaking people outside of the archipelago.
Being the Tsukushi no Dazai, Shima would not have only been concerned with foreign envoys, but also with two other groups of Hayato—specifically the Ohosumi no Hayato and the Ata no Hayato. Little is known about them, other than that Yamato considered them to be distinct ethnic and cultural groups living in the far south of Kyushu. We’ve talked before about how southern Kyushu maintained a significantly different material culture through Kofun period until more recent times. We also have indication that they had a distinctive shield and even art style—the famous “Hayato shields” appear to have been appropriated by the court, along with a contingent of Hayato men that were expected to act as an exotic guard for the sovereign and the court. The earliest reliable evidence we have for them is a record from 682. There are some questions as to whether or not they were related to the groups previously called Kumaso or even the Tsuchigumo, but there is no clear historical or archaeological evidence linking them other than the common cultural finds in Kyushu more generally.
The Ata and Ohosumi Hayato may have been distinct clans or lineage groups living in Ohosumi and the area of modern Satsuma.
We have a record in 687 of the Ata no Hayato attending Ohoama’s funeral and presenting a eulogy. The chiefs who came brought 337 others—a sizeable contingent—and they were all given presents by the court. Later, we would see presents given out to 174 Hayato by Shima’s successor in the Dazai, Awada no Mahito, and then in 692 we know that the court sent priests to preach Buddhism to Ata and Ohosumi.    In 695, Hayato of Ohosumi were entertained in the capital, and they even held a wrestling match for the Queen and her attendants in the area west of Asukadera, by the site of the famous Tsuki tree.
So the Hayato would have been another group that Shima no doubt dealt with on a somewhat regular basis in his capacity as Dazi no Sochi—and then later on when he returned to Asuka and took up his new role as Udaijin.

And as I mentioned, that appointment was a Big Deal. The position of Udaijin had been vacant since Nakatomi no Kane, one of the infamous leaders of the Afumi court, was non-consensually removed from the position—and this plane of existence—when he was executed in 672, at the closure of the Jinshin no Ran. After that, Ohoama appears to have been gun-shy about sharing power with anyone outside the royal family. The position had been left vacant for about 18 years. So what made Uno no Sarara take up Shima as Minister of the Right? And what about the Minister of the Left, or the Sadaijin?
Well, we don’t have a Sadaijin, but we do have a Dajodaijin in the form of Prince Takechi, Ohoama’s first-born son. The Dajodaijin was the Prime Minister in charge of the entire Dajokan, the Council of State, made up of the ministers of the left and right and the 8 bureaus of the government. The Sadaijin and Udaijin served under the Dajodaijin, in that hierarchical order, with the Sadaijin generally being considered higher in precedence. So it looks like, in this case, they had the Dajodaijin, Prince Takechi to run the Council and Shima, as Udaijin would have been responsible for ensuring the administration of the eight bureaus was properly carried out.
That Shima was appointed just under Prince Takechi again shows the power and influence he likely had and the trust he must have had from Uno no Sarara. Remember, the Crown Prince, Kusakabe, had died before he could take the throne. Uno was enthroned as Queen, while the Crown Prince, Karu, was still a minor. Whereas Ohoama had his wife and many sons to help him run things, Uno no Sarara was running thin. As had been seen with Prince Ohotsu, there was always the threat that one of Ohoama’s other sons could be propped up on the throne. Uno had to look after Karu’s birthright, but there was no guarantee that he would make it to adulthood in times before modern medicine. It appears that Prince Takechi was actually considered the next in line, just in case something happened to Karu before he could ascend the throne, which makes sense that Prince Takechi was also trusted as Dajo Daijin. Shima’s place as Udaijin must have been indicative of similar trust that he would look after the royal family’s interests. This was no doubt helped by the role he played as Dazai no Sochi.
As Udajin, Tajihi no Shima went on to have a rather incredible career. He was given 4 cho of land for his residence. This appears to be around 10 acres or so—a not inconsiderable amount of land, and it probably refers to the amount of land he was granted in the new Fujiwara capital city. Later, in the Nara capital of Heijo-kyo, Prince Nagaya’s residence was about that size and Fujiwara no Nakamaro’s residence is thought to have been about twice that. This would have given Shima space for multiple buildings, sprawling gardens, servants quarters, quarters for his wives and children, and much more.
Tajihi no Shima would continue in his role as Udaijin, and would eventually, be promoted to the position of Sadaijin, a post he held only briefly, as he passed away almost a year later. He was not forgotten, however. It is thought that he was the model for one of the suitors of Kaguya Hime in the famous story of Taketori Monogatari—the tale of the Bamboo Cutter. Taketori Monogatari, also known as Kaguya Hime Monogatari, is considered the oldest known story in the Monogatari form. It was probably written in the late 9th or early 10th century, with references to it appearing in works as early as 909 CE. This suggests that Tajihi no Shima and others were still remembered, at least in part, over a century later.
Shima is also thought to have been the patron of the famous poet, Kakinomoto no Hitomaro, one of the famous 36 immortal poets. We’ll have to include Hitomaro in a later episode, though we might come back to him after this reign, as he isn’t mentioned in the Chronicles, but we do have some fragmentary biographical information thanks to his inclusion in the Man’yoshu. In fact, he’s probably one of the most famous poets in the Man’yoshu who is not otherwise mentioned. We are told that he was the court poet during the reign of Uno no Sarara, so it makes sense that Shima may have very well been his patron and helped him get his start.
Now while Shima was back in Asuka, making it big in the court, the position of Tsukushi no Dazai had to be filled, and we are told that the mantle was taken up by Awada no Mahito no Ason. This name is a bit tricky, as it seems to have two kabane: Mahito and Ason. Since his father is said to have been Kasuga no Awada no Omi no Kudara, the assumption seems to be that “Mahito” was his name, rather than his kabane. Although it was likely pronounced “Mabito” at the time, I’m going to go with the modern pronunciation of “Mahito” in part to distinguish it from the kabane. A quick side note: When reading names from this period, we usually see the kabane coming right after the family name, as the kabane is basically a rank for the family and not the individual. But we do occasionally see the kabane tacked on at the end of a name, as in Awada no Mahito’s case.
I would also like to quickly draw your attention to his father’s name: Kudara. That can also be read as Baekje. Was this an indication that his father or an ancestor came from the continent, perhaps from Baekje? Or just that he had close ties to that kingdom? I couldn’t find anything specific, but it seems interesting that he was put in place at the Dazai, where dealing with the continent would have been an important part of his duties.
Awada no Mahito was not just a noble of the court, and even if his father was of Baekje descent, that may not have been the main thing that gained him the position. It may have also had to do with an earlier incident. We are told that in 653 Mahito was one of those who traveled with the 2nd envoy to the Tang court as a scholar monk. He would later return to secular life, but that experience must have been a big feather in his cap, helping him land a good position at court. In fact, in 685, we are told that he was Jikikwoushi rank—a fairly respectable position for anyone at the time—and he apparently tried to get his father raised to the same rank as he was. Aston translates the record as saying he was willing to give his rank to his father, but it is unclear to me if this means he was offering to give up his rank altogether. At the very least it seems that he felt awkward outranking his father—a good, filial attitude, it would seem. However, Ohoama didn’t care. In the past, rank may have been given to entire families, but now the court was giving rank to individuals, and the rank Mahito had earned was his, not his father’s. And so his request was denied.
Four years later, Ohoama was gone and Awada no Mahito was sent to the Tsukushi no Dazai. We are told that he was in that position as of 689. If that was the position of Dazai no Sochi, however, he didn’t hold it for long, as Prince Kawachi was raised up to that position that same year, and here we have a bit of a conundrum.
Mahito is only mentioned as “Tsukushi no Dazai” while Prince Kawachi is specifically mentioned, at least twice, as Tsukushi no Dazai no Sochi. There are some who suggest that Mahito may have been the Dazai Daini, an assistant to the Dazai no Sochi—effectively the second-in-command it would appear. This makes some sense, when you consider it, and he may even have been acting Dazai no Sochi until Prince Kawachi was appointed.
Of course, because our records are quite lackluster, and we are never actually told when Tajihi no Shima left the position, it is possible that Awada no Mahito was actually the Dazai Sochi for many years leading up to 689, and that Shima had returned to Asuka some time ago. This is the problem with the way things are written—sometimes they mention a name and sometimes just a position, and rarely do they mention when someone stepped down.
Still, Mahito oversaw a few things that we can be somewhat sure about as they happened after he is first mentioned in the position, though it was all in the same year. For one thing, he is the one who presented gifts to the 174 Hayato in the first month of 689. This included cloth, ox hides, and deerskins. He was also there when the Queen sent relief to the Barrier Wardens whose terms were up. These were the Sakimori, a position set up to defend the archipelago and repel any potential invasions. I would assume they were regularly rotated out, especially if they were expected to man the fortifications out on some of the islands. It is interesting that we don’t often see them referenced, so it isn’t clear to me why the reference was made here—it may have just been a note in one of the sources the Chroniclers were using.
Later that same year, we also see garments being given out—likely meaning official court clothing—to the Tsukushi Dazai and others. This was probably to bring them all in line with the latest formal wear being used in the court in Asuka. We also know that in the 6th month of that year they entertained the Silla envoys, who were given various presents.
And then, two months later, Mahito is out and Prince Kawachi comes in. At the same time that Prince Kawachi is being made the Dazai no Sochi, our previous Dazai no Sochi, Tajihi no Shima, had his rank and fief increased.   I doubt this was a coincidence, and it is one of the things that, for me, lends credence to the idea that Shima had just then returned to Asuka and Prince Kawachi was his replacement, suggesting that Mahito had really just been in an acting capacity while the change over was taking place.
Unfortunately, if we were looking for more information about Prince Kawachi’s background, we would be disappointed. Although he is a prince, probably descended from Nunakura, aka Bidatsu Tennou, we don’t have a lot about him. He—or someone with the same name, since we do see these Princely titles get reused, it seems—is found in the reign of Ohoama traveling with Ohotomo no Yasumaro and Fujiwara no Ohoshima to go entertain Gim Jisyang of Silla. Later we see a Prince Kawachi delivering eulogies during Ohoama’s funeral. That suggests he held an important position, and that he was somewhat familiar with the continent, but we don’t get a whole lot more. Our next evidence is when he was appointed to the post of Dazai no Sochi in 689, a position he would hold until his death in 694—which may also explain why we just don’t see too much of him in the record. A promising career may have been cut short, as happened all too often back in that day and age.
Still, as Dazai no Sochi, he had plenty to keep him busy. Not a month after he arrived, Isonokami no Maro and Ishikawa no Mishina arrived at the head of a delegation. They were there to deliver patents of rank to members of the Tsukushi government and to inspect the fortifications at the edge of the archipelago. These were the same fortifications being manned by the newly arrived Sakimori.
Speaking of the members of the Tsukushi government, it took a lot of people to make the Dazaifu work, not just the Sochi giving people orders about what they should do. There were numerous assistants helping to keep everything running. Some of them would have just been dealing with the Sochi’s own residence, while others were clerks, guards, and more. It really was a miniature version of the court in Asuka, and would have required a lot of people to tend to it.
And we know of at least one of them: Tsukushi no Fubito no Masaru, whose imagined thoughts we heard at the top of the episode. In 691, Masaru was recognized for 29 years of service as a secretary to the Tsuksuhi no Dazai. Twenty-nine years in place suggests to me that he would have likely been one of the longest serving members of the Tsukushi government center. He would have known where all the bodies were buried—perhaps quite literally. While the Dazai no Sochi was often a temporary appointment, sometimes just for a few years, they would have likely leaned on Masaru for his expertise. This is just like how modern government appointees like ambassadors may come and go, including for political reasons, but they rely on permanent staff, including a lot of locals, to provide the institutional knowledge they need to do their jobs. One can assume that if Masaru had been successful for 29 years he knew how things were supposed to work. And so I hope that his superiors made sure to remember that when Secretary’s day rolled around.
Prince Kawachi didn’t make it 29 years, but he made it five. He might have gone even longer, but he died in office in 694 and was posthumously raised in rank for his service. History is full of stories, but in real life, the stories don’t always follow the expected narratives. As much as we’d like to think otherwise, good, moral people do not always triumph and sometimes those who do awful things are never punished. And some times stories come to abrupt ends. Of course, looking back, it just is what it is. Prince Kawachi’s life becomes little more than a footnote. And yet, what if he had gone on? Would he have followed Tajihi no Shima to help become one of the grand ministers of the court? Unfortunately, we will never know. He could have been a rising star, but we just know about his passing.
Five months after Prince Kawachi’s untimely death, he was followed in the post by Prince Mino. Prince Mino would continue in the position, it seems, through the end of the reign in 697—or at least nobody else was appointed until 700, when Isonokami no Maro—apparently the same one who had previously come out to inspect the fortifications during Prince Kawachi’s tenure—was appointed. Although he came into the position in the next reign, we’ll still touch on him, as he was another notable figure at this time.
Looking back at Prince Mino, however, we seem to run into a problem—there are too many Princes Mino in the record. If you just use the English translations, you’ll find several references to Prince Mino, but if you look at the original text, you’ll see that there are at least three different spellings. For one it means “Beautiful Field” and another is just “Three Fields”. A third “Mino” is spelled with characters that don’t necessarily create obvious meaning, and may just be a phonetic spelling.
It is possible that all of these Princes Mino are the same. Spelling wasn’t standard, and different characters could be used for the same name. On the other hand, we have one set of characters being used to describe a Prince Mino who supported Ohoama during the Jinshin no Ran, while another, the “Three Fields” Prince Mino, describes one of the sons of Prince Kurikuma, who was with his father in Tsukushi when the Afumi court came calling. Since travel wasn’t necessarily an overnight endeavor—unless you were Ohoama, rushing through the mountains to the east—it would seem that the Prince Mino in Tsukushi is unlikely to be the same one as the Prince Mino who joined Ohoama’s forces back in the Home Provinces.
So let’s make the assumption that Prince Mino—Prince “Three Fields” Mino—is one person and the others are separate. What do we know about him?
Well, he appears to have had experience with Tsukushi and the government out there, since he would be the son of Prince Kurikuma, a former Tsukushi Dazai no Sochi. We talked about Prince Kurikuma before, back in numerous episodes, but particularly in episodes 128 and Episode 144, as well as references in betweend. Prince Kurikuma was not only a significant factor in the outcome of the Jinshin no Ran, denying the Afumi court the resources of all of the defenders at the Tsukushi fortifications, he shows up in local legends in Tsukushi still today. So he definitely seems to have had an impact on the region. It also suggests that Prince Mino had connections in the area through his father.
After his father’s posting as Dazai no Sochi ended, Prince Mino appears to have returned with him to Asuka. He is described as a key member in Ohoama’s court. He was one of the Princes mentioned in the audience at the Daigokuden in 681, when Ohoama instituted the commission to bring together the various court sources that we presume would eventually lead to the creation of the Chronicles—the Nihon Shoki and the Kojiki. Later, he become a daibu, a high official, of the Household Bureau, responsible for the household of the sovereign, the sumera no mikoto. This meant the upkeep of the palace, the kitchens, and the various servants waiting on the sovereign and his family. This also means that he was likely close to the movers and shakers of the court.
One of the projects under his purview appears to have been the laying out of a new palace and a new capital city. In 682 he headed up the investigations at the place called Nihiki, determining that it would be a good location for what would eventually become Fujiwara-kyo—a project still underway in Queen Uno’s reign. He was also sent out to Shinano two years later to look for a site for a second capital. It ended up not happening, but he spent a couple months and eventually came back with a map of the region.
It may be that the Fujiwara-kyo project took up a lot of Mino’s time and effort, because we then don’t hear from him for another decade, during which Ohama passed away and so much more happened. Assuming he was still involved with the Fujiwara capital project, however, we see that in 691 there was a ceremony held for the tranquility of the new capital—a Chin-sai or, what we would today call a “Ji-chin-sai”. This is a “land pacification ceremony” done when breaking ground on a new building or other project. So it looks like planning and land clearing had taken some 10 years, but it was finally ready to get started. Later that same year we hear of them laying out the residences of high ranking nobles, like the Udaijin, Tajihi no Shima, and we also see the Queen inspecting the roads. Then, a year later in 692, they were holding the land pacification ceremony for the new palace. The queen would move into the new palace in the very last months of 694.
But by that time, Prince Mino was on to his next assignment. He had been appointed Tsukushi Dazai no Sochi earlier that year following the death of Prince Kawachi. Not much more is said of Tsukushi for the next three years of the reign, but we do see the Hayato visiting Asuka, presumably with Prince Mino’s assistance.
We don’t have a clear idea of when Prince Mino retired—it’s certainly not in the Nihon Shoki—but we know that he did because he was succeeded in the role by none other than Isonokami no Maro, who would take up the position in 700. Prince Mino, on the other hand, returned to the court, where he would eventually pass away in the year 708.
And that was the last Dazai no Sochi who held the position during this reign, but I do want to talk about the one who came after Prince Mino just a bit—though more because this was an up-and-coming court noble whom we should be watching.
Isonokami no Maro was born, by all accounts, in the year 640. Despite his name he was actually born to a family that we know somewhat well from much earlier on: The Mononobe. In fact, his father is apparently Mononobe no Muraji no Umaro, and he appears to be descended from the main line of the Mononobe family, which had declined ever since Mononobe no Moriya had been defeated and killed by Soga no Umako and others.
And it seems that the Mononobe curse of being on the losing side in a contest for power hit Maro during the Jinshin no Ran, because we see him, at that time referenced as Mononobe no Muraji no Maro, along with two servants, or Toneri, serving Prince Ohotomo—aka Koubun Tennou—up to the very end. In fact, when Ohotomo fled and the Afumi court deserted him, only Mononobe no Maro and the servants stayed with him when he eventually strangled himself.
And one would think that would be it.   You were with the rival for the throne in the most contentious fight in recent memory. You couldn’t protect him and you were on the wrong side. Sure, Ohoama was going to pardon you because he couldn’t just rid himself of half of the court and hope things would still run smoothly—that would be a surefire recipe for disaster, and nobody wanted the government crippled like that. However, you can’t imagine that those on the losing side would be given any position of trust or authority.
And yet, in 676, we see that Mononobe no Maro was sent to Silla. And he wasn’t just helping out: he was sent as the chief envoy of Ohoama’s court. That is quite the turnaround in four years, and we don’t really know why, but it has been speculated that Ohoama was actually impressed. While other members of the Afumi court fled and abandoned Ohotomo to his enemies, Maro and the two toneri with him did not, staying with Ohotomo until the bitter end, and likely conveying what had happened to the other side once it was all over.   That kind of loyalty was impressive, especially back then.
It is also thought that Maro may have benefited from the fact that Enoi no Okimi, who was also descended from the Mononobe family, fought on the side of Ohoama. This is a common scenario we see throughout Japanese history, where different members of the same family fight on different sides of a conflict, often meaning that no matter who wins the family can still claim to have been on the winning side. When Okimi passed away in 676 he was posthumously recognized as the ujigami, or clan head, of the Mononobe, leading some to suspect that a bit of his shine may have rubbed off on Maro as well.
In 684, when the various kabane were being rectified by Ohoama’s court, the Mononobe no Muraji were included as Ason, or Asaomi. There is some thought that around this time is when Maro changed his name to Isonokami, which is a name that was previously used by members of the Mononobe, including one of the brothers to Mononobe no Moriya. We see him mentioned as Isonokami no Maro in 686, as one of those giving a eulogy for Ohoama: specifically he gives the eulogy on behalf of the Houkan, or Nori no Tsukasa, the Judicial officers. He is mentioned right after Fuse no Miushi, whom we talked about last episode, who would go on to become a Dainagon and, later, Udaijin, or Minister of the Right.
The first connection between Isonokami no Maro and Tsukushi was in 689, and we noted it earlier—he came out to inspect the fortifications as well as to hand out patents of rank to the court officials working out there on the edge of the realm.    He would return to Asuka in time to be a part of Uno no Sarara’s official enthronement ceremonies. There he is named Mononobe no Maro, and is in charge of the shields. Given what we know of the role of the Mononobe as the early soldiers of the court, it makes sense that he would play this role, and that they would use the name Mononobe rather than Isonokami. In the same way, the ritual was conducted by Fujiwara no Ohoshima, but he is recorded as Nakatomi no Ohoshima, probably because these were roles specifically for the Mononobe and Nakatomi, rather than for the Isonokami and the Fujiwara.
This is another thing that can be quite frustrating when researching Japanese history—names can change at the drop of a hat, and people often had various ancestral names and titles that could be pulled out for various political or ceremonial reasons. If you don’t have the history or understand the nuance it can be easy to just think that it is a different person altogether. And when you don’t have much information, sometimes you have to ask yourself which is it?
Maro would stay close to Queen Uno, even accompanying her to Ise shrine, and then, in the following reign, he would succeed Prince Mino as Dazai no Sochi in the year 700. It isn’t clear, however, if he left for the Dazaifu immediately, since in 701 he is noted as having been promoted from the office of Chunagon to Dainagon, and in that same year he went with Royal Prince Osakabe to pay respects at the house of the late Udaijin, Tajihi no Shima, who had just passed away. He then left for Tsukushi in 702—or possibly headed back. But in 703, he was once again back in Asuka, paying condolences on the death of the next Udaijin, Abe no Miushi—aka Fuse no Miushi, the same one whom Maro had pronounced a Eulogy with during the funeral ceremonies for Ohoama. Isonokami no Maro would go on to take the mantle of Udaijin, and then eventually Sadaijin as well. He would be raised up to the second rank, along with the famous Fujiwara no Fubito, who took the vacated position of Udaijin. This meant that technically Maro was the senior of the two, though many people think that Fujiwara no Fubito held most of the actual power.
Regardless of that, Isonokami no Maro nonetheless would go on to become the highest ranking court noble before his eventual death in 717. At that point he was 78 years old, by the reckoning of the day, and he had seen multiple sovereigns, several bloody conflicts, and the creation of two permanent capitals—Fujiwara kyo and Heijo kyo, in modern Nara. He went from being a supporter in the Afumi court, on the wrong side of the Jinshin no Ran to become the highest ranking court noble in the land. He would be granted the head of the Mononobe family and would continue to prosper as Isonokami. It was truly a remarkable career over an incredible span of time.
And there you have it. A look at some of those that were sent out to the Dazaifu in Tsukushi. In later years, the post of Dazai no Sochi would be seen more as a burden than a blessing, but at this point it was still a lucrative and powerful position. Several of those involved in the Dazaifu or who held the position as Dazai no Sochi would go on to even more powerful positions back in Asuka. Whilst this posting did move you further away from the politics—perhaps not always a bad thing—it also put you atop a structure where one had considerable power, authority, and autonomy, at least at this point.
Next episode we’ll get back to the court in Asuka and take a look at a little more of what is going on.
Before I end this, however, a quick administrative note about the podcast. This creation is a labor of love. It was started largely as a way to get myself to regularly dive into the Chronicles and really see what was going on. In particular, I was excited about the Asuka period, because I don’t think we really have enough of a sense of what life was like and what was going on back then. It was clearly a very dynamic time, and yet we tend to see it through the lens of later Nara and Heian court culture, which was still very much evolving. The stories that I didn’t know about were what drew me to this project, and I hope that we’ve all learned a bit more as the project has continued.
And we are reaching the end of the area that is covered by the main Chronicles, the Kojiki, the Nihon Shoki, and the Sendai Kuji Hongi, which have been our main guides through this period. But that doesn’t mean we are bringing things to a close.
Next we have the Shoku Nihongi and many other grecords, and I am going to keep up with the project and the schedule as best I can. In fact, it looks like I may be able to devote even more time to it in the near future as some drastic life changes are coming for me, such that I will no longer be working a 9-to-5 job while also trying to get this podcast out like clockwork twice a month—not to mention my other passion, teaching traditional Japanese martial arts here in the DC region at a local not-for-profit dojo. This is happening as we are also in the process of building a house, traveling, and more.
But it does mean that we are going to be looking into alternative sources of funding beyond just donations. We are eternally grateful to everyone who has donated, but I may end up doing something that I’ve been putting off for a while: allowing advertisements. I want to do this so that we can continue to offer this for podcast for free, but hosting, staying up to date on sources, etc. does cost money. I’m not looking to make a huge profit, but if we can at least get the podcast paying for itself, that would be a good start.
Before I do that I’ll look to find a way that we can get subscribers on Patreon and elsewhere ad-free copy. I just need to figure that out, but once I do, I’ll let you all know.
So there you have it. We aren’t going to stop the podcast, but we may be adding a bit more to it in the future. I hope, though, that we can do more beyond the historical chronicles. For instance, did you know that we have an English translation of a 17th century cookbook up on our website, SengokuDaimyo.com? I would love to redact those recipes and maybe provide some cooking videos for anyone who would want to try them. A shoutout to Max Miller of Tasting History, who reached out to us about using a couple of our translations for his episodes on historical Japanese cooking – Max is a great guy and his series and cookbook are well worth following. But there’s a lot more to explore: one of my favorites so far that we’ve tried is “keiran”, or “eggs”: doughy balls filled with brown sugar and cooked in a miso based soup. I don’t know if there is anything like that still being served in Japan, but it’s a strange and pleasant recipe and I would love to do that again and record it for everyone to try.
All of this is in the works, and nothing will change immediately, but I wanted to keep you all in the loop. Thank you so much for listening, I can’t tell you how much it means.
And of course, as always, 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.
Also, feel free to reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page. You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.
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.

Episode 33: Keiko's Kumaso Campaign

January 16, 2021 Joshua Badgley

19th century drawing of the 12th sovereign, known to us as Keikō Tennō.

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Map of the Campaign

This map gives a rough idea of the possible route described in the Chronicles, assuming placenames are correct. It is not exact, and the borders are based on later province boundaries, which may not match up exactly with the territories of the ancient countries, which may have been more like collections of city-states without well-defined borders as we might think of them. In addition, it is unclear if there was any central authority or if it was simply a collection of alliances—as noted, there is no good evidence for any truly hierarchical relationships at this stage. That said, the areas of Tsukushi and Toyo, including Ōita, were areas that showed political activity in the Yayoi and into the Kofun period. Furthermore, at the Saitobaru Kofun Group (“7” on the map), we do have evidence of kofun building from at least the 3rd century. So it fits with our timeline, and there may even be some evidence of fighting at some of the locations mentioned, though it is hard to exactly pinpoint when, let alone whether or not it was connected by an invading force from Yamato.

Armor and Weapons of the Early 4th Century

Since we are talking about military engagements, it is good to get an idea of the weapons and armor of this time. It seems clear that there were iron swords of various types available, but iron armor seems new. There may have been some iron armor sent in the 3rd century with requests to the Wei and Jin courts, but if so, I’m not sure that it has been verified. Of the armor we do have, it seems to date to the early 4th century. It is often called a tankō (短甲), though that is not how it would have been referred to at the time, and simply means “short armor”. Some have challenged this term, and instead refer to it simply as an iron cuirass of vertical plates. These early body armors were likely held on with straps at the shoulders and otherwise secured at the hips. It is not an uncommon shape for torso protection across the world, and a similar design is seen in different cultures at different times.

Prior to this, we have only limited armor styles, primarily made out of organic material—in this case wood. Wood, even lacquered, is not going to last long in acidic soil, and so it is unsurprising that so little has survived. These pieces, centuries apart and quite different, don’t give us enough to really know what was going on with armor development, other than the briefest glimpse. Did these wooden armors continue, dwindling as iron armors came into use? Or was there something else entirely? Functionally, the 2nd century armor seems similar to the 4th century example, and it would not be hard to imagine armors of wooden vertical slats similar to the iron construction, or even more elaborate wooden armors, similar to later iron models. Unfortunately, unless we find more examples, it will be hard to say for certain.

Iron Armor of Vertical Plates

Early 4th century armor, similar to those found in Gaya. Photo taken by author at the Tokyo National Museum.

Elaborate Wooden Armor

2nd century wooden armor. In shape it shares many characteristics with later iron armors, but it is much more elaborate and includes two large “wings” on the back. Photo by author at the National Museum of Japanese History.

Armor of wooden plates

This armor comes from fragments from the 3rd C BCE. It is a simple set of wooden plates laced together. It is unclear how long this kind of armor continued to be in use, but it seems a far cry from the solid armors of later. Photo by author at the National Museum of Japanese History in Sakura.

Dramatis Personae

Here we will talk about some of the figures in the story so you can try to keep them straight.

Ōtarashi Hiko Oshiro Wake no Mikoto - The 12th sovereign of Yamato, son of Ikume Iribiko. He is our main protagonist in this campaign. Aka Keikō Tennō

Take Morogi - One of Ōtarashi Hiko’s advanced scouts, sent ahead to see what there was in the land. He came up with the plan to defeat the brigands in Toyo.

Kamuhashi Hime - Recognized in the Chronicles as the ruler of her country, which would appear to be Toyo. She presents herself with all the trappings of a sovereign, just like Yamato—the sword, the mirror, and the magatama, all hung up in the branches she affixed to the front of her boat. She told the Yamato forces about the brigands in her area. Her home was at a place called Nagao—possibly Yukuhashi City.

Hanatari, Mimitari, Asahagi, and Tsuchiori-iori - The four brigand leaders of Toyo. They each lived at the headwaters (kawakami) of different areas: Usa, Mike, Takawa, and Midorino. Of those, Usa, is perhaps the most prominent, being the home of Usa Shrine. They are accused of taking on “unauthorized titles” and giving out chieftainships to their family members.

Haya tsu Hime - The Lady of Haya. She is not accorded the same status as Kamuhashi Hime, but seems to function in a similar role. Her home is Hayami, in “Ōgita”, which was later “Ōita”. She tells the Yamato forces about the Tsuchigumo up in the hills of Negino.

Ao and Shiro - Literally “Blue” and “White”, these are the names of two of the Tsuchigumo who live with their followers in caves in the country of Ōita.

Uchizaru, Yata, and Kunimaro - The three Tsuchigumo that live around Mt. Negi and Negi moor (Negino), in the western areas of modern Ōita Prefecture. After Yata is killed, Uchizaru and his forces commit suicide rather than let themselves be killed by the Yamato forces.

Atsu Kaya and Sa Kaya - The two leaders of the Kumaso. Sometimes called the Kumaso Takeru, or Kumaso Braves.

Ichifu Kaya and Ichi Kaya - Two daughters of one of the Kumaso leaders. Ichifu Kaya eventually betrays her father and he is killed. In the end, she, herself, is put to death for this unfilial act. Ichi Kaya goes off to marry the Kuni no Miyatsuko of Ki no Kuni.

Izumi Hime - Lord of the country of Murokata. This is thought to be there area around Kirishima, though I would note there is also an “Izumi” on the shores of the Yatsushiro Sea. She meets the Yamato forces north of Hinamori Peak, an area known today as Kobayashi.

Hinamori the Elder and Hinamori the Younger - Two members of Ōtarashi Hiko’s retinue. It is unclear if they are from Yamato or if they were local lords in the area of Hinamori, modern Kobayashi. They don’t show up except in that part of the narrative.

Kuma tsu Hiko the Elder and Kuma tsu Hiko the Younger - A pair of “princes” of “Kuma” It is not entirely clear if they are considered Kumaso—their names are more titles than name, and little can really be gleaned form jsut what is in the chronicles

Tsudzura - A Tsuchigumo in the land of Tamakina, in Hi no Kuni—modern Tamana city. He was killed by the Yamato soldiers.

Kumaso - A group of people living in Southern Kyūshū—possibly throughout the entire island. Believed to possibly be two groups, the Kuma and the So. “Kuma” is still a common element in placenames in southern Kyūshū, including Kumamoto Prefecture. All DNA and linguistic evidence points to them being a Wa people distinct from, but similar too, the people in Yamato.

Hayato - Another group of people living in Southern Kyūshū, similar but distinct from the Kumaso—maybe. At least in the later centuries they are treated as distinct.

Tsuchigumo - It is unclear exactly what is meant by this term, other than a people outside of Yamato without an otherwise clean designation. It is used for groups in Yamato, in Kyūshū, as well as over in the Kantō and Tōhoku regions. Some have suggested they were remnants of Jōmon populations still living in the islands, but there is no evidence of that, and they could easily be Wa people who have adapted to a different sytle of life, living more in caves and pit dwellings than the later Yayoi and early Kofun Wa people.

Locations of Interest

Suwo/Suō (周防国) - An old country/province on the Seto Inland Sea coast, just east of Nagato. Today it is part of eastern Yamaguchi Prefecture. The name persists in the name of Hōfu City (防府市), which seems to indicate the old government seat of Suō, near the Saba River. Indeed, there is evidence of the old provincial capital and numerous kofun in the area.

Toyo (豊国) - This country likely spanned across much of modern Ōita Prefecture and parts of eastern Fukuoka prefecture, covering the northeast quadrant of Kyūshū. It was later broken up into Front and Back Toyo: Buzen (豊前) and Bungo (豊後).

Himuka/Hyūga (日向国) - The ancient country (and later, province) that covered much of modern Miyazaki Prefecture. This area played a special part in the early foundation myths of the Yamato Royal line, and there are many places connected to the early stories of Yamato and the Heavenly Rock Cave found in this area, today.

Murokata (諸縣) - Apparently a district, country, or area in the middle of Himuka, today it signifies a district from modern Kirishima, north to the border of Miyazaki Prefecture.

Hi (肥国) - The Nihon Shoki says that his was named the “Fire Country” and relates numerous fire-related phenomena. It is interesting, however, that the word for fire, “Hi” seems to be the same as the word for sun, “Hi”, and I can’t help but wonder if there isn’t some connection between the two. The country of Hi would eventually be broken up into Hizen (肥前) and Higo (肥後).

Tsukushi (筑紫国) - Tsukushi is the name sometimes used to refer to the entire island of Kyūshū, in which case it is more properly “Tsukushi-no-shima”, and sometimes it is used to refer to the areas of modern Fukuoka and Saga as “Tsukushi-no-kuni”. This is the area where much of the later administration of the remote provinces of the island would take place, housed at the Dazaifu, a second capital for overseeing the frontier and the trade with the mainland. That was still some years out, however. For our purposes, we will simply skirt the southern and eastern edge of the country. Later it would be split up in Chikuzen (筑前) and Chikugo (筑後).

Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo’s Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua, and this is Episode 33: Keiko’s Kumaso Campaign.
This episode, we are moving on to the third of what we can maybe refer to as the Miwa sovereigns: Mimaki Iribiko, Ikume Iribiko, and now Oho-Tarashi Hiko, known today as Keikou Tennou. Name-wise, you can see some patterns, because the next three will be Waka-Tarashi Hiko, Tarashi-Nakatsu Hiko, and Okinaga Tarashi Hime. There seems to be some debate over the exact meaning of “Tarashi”, but it does appear to mark a hereditary lineage—whether that lineage was actual or massaged by the various Chroniclers.
The Nihon Shoki opens this reign in the year 71 and ends it around the year 130, with the sovereign reigning some 60 years. More likely, though, this all takes place some time in the late 3rd century and early 4th, but we won’t get any events we can check against other records for at least another several reigns, so we are still in that “Dark” period of Japanese history, where our only source of guiding light is the Chronicles and archaeology.
What we do read at this time gives us an idea, though, that the country still wasn’t settled under any one particular ruler. In fact, Oho Tarashi’s reign would be dominated by his wars both in Kyushu and in the Kanto and up to the Tohoku regions, indicating that they were still quite independent of Yamato, though of course that isn’t quite how it comes across in the Chronicles. These wars gained him some notoriety, as events of his reign are recalled not just in the official histories, but also in the Fudoki, the local gazetteers that were ordered in the 8th century, where Oho Tarashi is mentioned even more than his predecessors. I find this telling, as these documents often contain tidbits that aren’t necessarily found elsewhere in the records. That could be a red flag—additions biased towards local politics and tradition—or it could be indications that they had access to other records, stories, etc. We’ll be adding the stories to the mix as it makes sense and hopefully that will help.
One more curious note before we dive into everything—we really have two major stories of conquest. In the Nihon Shoki we get both the conquests of Oho Tarashi Hiko, but also of his son—one of the more famous princes in the Chronicles, Wo’usu no Mikoto, more commonly known as Yamatodake or Yamato Takeru, the Brave of Yamato. We’ll devote the entire next episode to Yamato Takeru, but in summary, he in many ways defined the early cultural imaginary of the warrior. He was strong and merciless and intelligent. His stratagems were hardly what one would consider orthodox, even in later times, but one could not refute the results. And, like Icarus, he warns us against pride, and is the first in a long line of tragic heroes lionized throughout Japanese history. In fact, his story is so powerful, that in the Kojiki it overshadows almost everything else about this period. Truly, the authors of the Kojiki would have us believe that this should have been the reign of Yamato Takeru, not Oho Tarashi, for he was the true actor. Today, we are left with questions, chief among them: Did Yamato Takeru even exist, and if so, can we really attribute all of these accounts to him? Was he perhaps an aggregate of various stories, where the hero is simply given as a “Brave of Yamato”? Or is there something else going on? We’ll take a look at this as we examine this period, but also try to better understand what it means for our study of history.
But for now, in this episode, let’s look at the other conquest story and the life of sovereign #12, Oho Tarashi Hiko Oshiro Wake no Mikoto, aka Keikou Tennou. This account will mostly be from the Nihon Shoki, with some tidbits from the Fudoki and others as appropriate.
We already know something of Oho Tarashi Hiko’s origin story. He was a son of Ikume Iribiko and Hibasu Hime, Ikume’s wife after the tragic affair with Saho Hime and her brother. Interestingly, Homutsu Wake, Saho Hime’s son who we discussed previously, seems to have not been even considered for the position of Crown Prince—perhaps for his lack of speaking ability and implied mental immaturity, but it is never even raised. Rather it is Oho Tarashi Hiko and his brother, Inishiki Hiko, who seem to be offered the chance to take on the royal dignity of Yamato, and it is only Oho Tarashi Hiko that takes it.
Of course, we could look at this in a slightly different light. Given what we know of paired rulers, where one was responsible for the spiritual and the other seems to have been responsible for the martial, could that have been happening here? After all, Inishiki *was* given mastery of Isonokami shrine, while Oho Tarashi Hiko, well… we’ll get to that.

Remember, Yamato may have ties to Izumo, Kibi, and Koshi, but their rule is far from absolute. There are apparently others claiming that they are the true kings of the Wa, and possibly even keeping the Seto Inland Sea trade to themselves, controlling the straits of Shimonoseki. Of course, the Chronicles only take the faintest nod at such disunity, indicating only that there were still those who resisted the royal authority, and often acting as if the Yamato kings were already the natural rulers of the entire archipelago by divine right. Therefore, if any opposed them, it was as if they were opposing the natural order of things. The royal forces weren’t sent out to “conquer” land, according to the royal narrative—how could they be? That would imply that the land did not already belong to Yamato, regardless of what the people living on it might have to say about that. This despite the fact that they’ve already acknowledged that there were other Divine Descendants in the world, who would theoretically have had just as strong a celestial claim to rule as the descendants of Ninigi no Mikoto
Unfortunately, we only have one lineage that we are given in any detail, so we’ll have to see what we can see of the rest of the archipelago, even if just through that limited frame.
So Oho Tarashi Hiko Oshiro Wake, son of Ikume Iribiko, was promised the Royal Dignity by his father, but he didn’t just get the throne right away. In fact, it was some time after that before he was finally made Crown Prince, which was his position until his father passed away. It seems there wasn’t really much of a tradition of abdication at this point, something that we will see later on, though presumably he had already been working in the court of his father in one way or another, working to help run the fledgling state.
When he did take the throne there is an interesting note in the Nihon Shoki—they say that there was “kaigen”, or in the words of Aston, “the chronological epoch was altered accordingly.” Of course, for many students of Japanese history, this is a familiar tradition—in fact, we only recently entered the Reiwa era with the enthronement of the most recent emperor. And it is the case that our early dates are all relative to the reigning sovereign, though typically it is expressed as a given year in the reign of the prince of such-and-such palace—or at least that is what we dsee in the Fudoki and the Kujiki.
The era names, or “Nengo” that really define later Japanese date systems, won’t come about for another four and a half centuries—around 645, and the next time we see this term, “kaigen”, isn’t until the entry for 650, when the Hakuchi era replaces “Taika” during the reign of Kotoku.
I assume this is just another example of the 8th century chroniclers using terms common to their own time to describe era transitions in the past.
But why am I going on about obscure references about regnal dates in an era that was probably all oral history, anyway? Let’s get to the good stuff, shall we?
And by good stuff, I mean the sex and fighting, right?
Well, this episode that will mean mostly fighting—though there is some sex as well. Honestly, there is enough to do an entire episode just on Oho Tarashi’s marriage conquests - we have at least 14 different women with whom he had children scattered across the various records, and supposedly something like 80 kids. There is just a lot to get through with Kyushu alone. But for right now we will focus on the fighting part of things.
After sealing a possible marriage with the people of Owari, around modern day Nagoya, Oho Tarashi came back to Yamato and set up a new palace at Makimuku, the same region as his predecessors. No sooner had he done so, however, but word came in that the Kumaso, over in Kyushu, had rebelled.
So we’ve talked about one group of people down in Kyushu, the Hayato, who were said to be descended from the elder brother of Hiko Hohodemi—see episode 23 for that whole story—but we’ve only really mentioned the Kumaso once or twice. They appear to have been another ethnicity in the islands—possibly even related to the Hayato, but just as likely that they were entirely different. It is unclear who they were, though the “Land of the Kumaso” generally seems to refer to the land of Hyuuga, also known as Himuka, which is where Ninigi no Mikoto, ancestor of the royal line, is also said to have first landed, on the southeast quadrant of Kyushu. Some have suggested that they were actually two peoples, the Kuma and the So. Others have suggested that “Kuma” specifically refers to “bear”, and even make a connection to the Bear Worship of the Ainu and suggest that there may be a connection to pre-Yayoi beliefs.
Still others note the continued use of “Kuma”, even today. Kumamoto in Kyushu, for example, and the Kuma district, which is noted as having a distinct dialect of Japanese, though not so much as to be called a separate language like Ryukyuan or even the Hachijo dialects. They appear to be referred to in texts up to the Nara period, lending some credence as to their existence as more than just southwestern bogeymen of the Yamato court—but then again, the Fudoki are also replete with stories of the Tsuchigumo, or Earth Spider, people, so you may want to take this all with a grain of salt.
Regardless, the Kumaso were clearly a people set apart from Yamato and their allies. They are portrayed as subjects—after all, the narrative is that all of the Japanese archipelago was under the Divine authority granted to the Heavenly Descendant and his progeny—but they are typically shown as rebellious, thus requiring the sovereign to chastise them.
Of course, I think by now we can easily see that this is little more than a polite fiction. There is no evidence of any kind of extensive control of the archipelago at this time, let alone Kyushu. The court isn’t punishing rebellious subjects, but rather it is taking military action against people that it finds to be counter to its own interests. If the ensuing campaign, as described in the Chronicles, is at all based on reality, I would suggest that this was part of a military push by Yamato to gain more complete control over the islands—particularly the pathways to the mainland, still the source for so much that the archipelago themselves could not easily produce domestically.
Interestingly, this Yamato dominance may have had something to do with the technological advantage of iron armor imported from the mainland: because in the early 4th century we start to see examples of early iron armor in the archipelago. Previously, armor had been made of wood or other organic materials, and surviving examples vary between extremely simplistic designs of hanging plates to elaborately carved wooden cuirasses that may have had as much, or more, of a ceremonial function—it certainly is more than is strictly needed for the purpose of protection on the battlefield.
Wood armor is all well and good, but wood has its disadvantages, including its weight. Pound for pound, wood is not as strong as metal, and so you need more of it and larger pieces. Iron armor, on the other hand, can be made with relatively thin plates, greatly reducing weight and also allowing for protection over more of the body.
From what we can tell, the early iron cuirasses that appear in the archipelago likely came from the mainland—specifically from the Kara, or Gaya, region. These were solid armors of vertical plates, which seem to have been laced together with leather thongs—I’ll have an example in the podcast page. The early versions found in the archipelago seem to be exactly like the ones found in Kara, leading to the conclusion that they were likely imports, though it is possible that they were manufactured locally—it is hard to tell. Surviving armor generally was passed down to us, today, as grave goods, and there are still a lot of questions, including just how widespread armor was on the ancient battlefield. Iron was, itself, a precious commodity, and no doubt an entire cuirass of iron was, at least early on, only available to the most elite warriors. Even the rivets, at this point, were made of leather.
Now, I’m aware of no records of just what, exactly, a warband of the time would have looked like in the early 4th century. I suspect that some were armored in iron, while others may have had armor of wood or similar, and still other warriors may have had no armor at all. There do seem to be a plethora of iron weapons, such as swords and the like, so maybe there was more armor than I’m giving credit for. Still, in an age where there is still no definitive evidence of iron manufacturing—that is, smelting iron from raw iron ore—in the archipelago, it must have been really prestigious to have iron armor, whether imported or made from imported raw materials. Moreover, to see a band of warriors in iron armor must have been quite a sight for the time.
Horses still seem to be a ways off in the historical record, so these warbands likely traveled on foot. This would mean crossing overland along footpaths and trails, or else taking long, slender boats, putting me in mind of the large canoes of Polynesia and the Pacific Northwest. I can easily imagine them, plying the waves, their iron cuirasses and helmets lacquered black to protect against the elements, possibly sporting a young sapling or similar decoration on the bow.
Now as I said, the Chronicles claim that the Kumaso were in “rebellion”—which implied they had previously been under Yamato’s authority, otherwise what were they rebelling against? There is no real evidence outside of the chronicles for any kind of subordinate relationship between Yamato and the other groups on the islands—alliances and cultural sharing, yes, but still no sign of a Japanese “state” as such. So then, assuming these assaults did occur, it must have been for some other reason. Perhaps to secure trade routes or other alliances.
There’s also always the possibility that these conflicts had nothing to do with Yamato, and that it was some other conflict between other groups that was later attributed to Yamato to help explain their hegemony over the archipelago.
But enough dithering about, let’s take a look at what the Chronicles—or at least the Nihon Shoki and the various Fudoki—have to say about this campaign.
So when the sovereign, Oho Tarashi Hiko, decided to head west to punish the Kumaso, he gathered up his forces and headed to Saba, in the country of Suou. This was probably in the area of the Saba River in Houfu City, in modern day Yamaguchi Prefecture. I mean, come on, the modern city’s name basically reads as “Suou Government Seat”, and indeed it apparently was the capital of the old province of Suou—and likely would have held a similar role even earlier, back in the early 4th century. There are certainly plenty of kofun clusters in and around the area. So it might make sense for Oho Tarashi Hiko to stop there, especially if they had some kind of alliance with Yamato, to regroup and plan for the campaign before heading into Kyushu.
Oho Tarashi is said to have looked south from Saba, and claimed to see smoke billowing up, indicating the presence of bandits. Now, first off, this would have meant meant looking out over more than 20 miles of ocean in the Seto Inland Sea down to Kyushu, and then picking out smoke in the sky over the distant mountains, which is certainly possible—signal smoke can be visible for at least 50 miles, and if it is a settlement of any size, one imagines it would have been the smoke from several fires. Still, while I’m sure smoke was a good indication of people and a settlement, in what way does it specifically indicate “bandits”—unless, of course, you are an invading foreign power, in which case they are probably all “bandits”, i.e. “enemies”, until proven otherwise.
And so Oho Tarashi dispatched some men to go scout out the region. One presumes they set out with a small force while Oho Tarashi continued to take advantage of his hosts in the country of Suou. This must not have been a stealth mission, though, because the chieftain of that far country—likely the country of Toyo—took to the water in a ship of her own to come out and meet the Yamato forces. We are told that she—and, yes, this chieftain, we are told, was, specifically, a woman—had a branch of hard wood that had been taken from Mt. Shitsu, on the northern coast of Kyushu, and placed it at the bow of her ship, placing on it a sword, a mirror, and a jewel—similar to the three items of the royal regalia, and reminiscent of the tree that had been set up to lure Amaterasu out of the Heavenly Rock Cave. In addition, she also raised up a white flag—apparently even in ancient Japan, that was a sign of truce. This chieftain’s name, we are told, was Kamuhashi Hime, and she was the ruler of her country. She told the Yamato forces that she and her people were not in rebellion—which could be taken as a sign of submission—but there were some brigands in the area apparently causing trouble. These were Hanatari, who was camped out at the headwaters of the Usa River; Mimitarai, who was up at the headwaters of Mi-ke; Asahagi, at the head of the Takawa, and Tsuchiwori-Wiwori, who was hiding out at the headwaters of Midorino. According to Kamuhashi, these four and their followers were causing mischief, each one declaring himself and his relations chieftains, and Hanatari himself had assumed an unauthorized title—we aren’t told which, but do you remember how, in the last reign, someone was calling themselves King of the Wa and suggesting that Korean vessels stop at their country and go no farther? Well, I suspect we may have a similar situation.
And of course, who is to say whether or not these were “unauthorized” claims or not? They may all have been just as “legitimate” as our protagonist, Oho Tarashi, but they were on the wrong side of our current narrative.
So hearing all this from Kamuhashi Hime, one of the Yamato advance scouts, Take Morogi, came up with a plan. He invited one of the four, Asahagi, to come see him and enticed him with the promise of various presents, and encouraged him to bring his friends. Sure enough, all four of these local leaders and their followers came to see what it was that these Yamato envoys had to offer. There was talk of red trousers, and other such things; and I guess for some reason, red trousers were a thing? But of course, this was one of the oldest tricks in the book—like offering fugitive criminals a free cruise. And just like with the free cruise, as soon as they showed up, they were taken prisoner and subdued. Perhaps not the most “honorable” means of defeating one’s enemies, but certainly practical.
With those four groups subdued, it must have been deemed safe to bring the big guns, because the advance force sent a message to Oho Tarashi, presumably still hanging out in Suou, and he sailed down, landing at Nagao in the country of Toyo—possibly in the area of modern Yukuhashi city. This was apparently the capital of that country, the seat of Kamuhashi Hime. Did she welcome Oho Tarashi Hiko as a fellow sovereign to her lands? Or was she coerced by his military might? We aren’t really told, but this seems to have become the beachhead for the rest of their campaign.
From Nagao they marched onto the country of Ohokida, modernly known as Ohoita prefecture, and came to the village of Hayami, which might have been the area of Hayami district on the north of Beppu Bay. It was there that they met another chieftain, Haya tsu Hime.
Haya tsu Hime met with Oho Tarashi’s men and reported that there were two “Tsuchigumo”—the Earth-Spider people—living in a place called “The Rat’s Cave”, but it isn’t entirely clear. These Tsuchigumo were known simply as Awo and Shiro—Blue and White. Hayatsu Hime also told him about three others in Negino, in the district of Nawori, named Uchizaru, Yata, and Kunimaro. All five of these men were said to be quite large and strong, with numerous followers, apparently in the western regions of modern Oita Prefecture.
This account is confirmed in the Bungo Fudoki—or at least that Fudoki used the same sources—which said said that after leaving Saba, Oho Tarashi and his men traveled to Miyaura in the Ama District, which is where he met Hayatsu Hime, who told him about all five of these Tsuchigumo. Oho Tarashi thought about what he would do, and he had his men stop at Kutami, where they built a giant muro or pit building which they could use as their council chambers while plotting their next move. Oho Tarashi had his men cut down camellia trees to make mallets as their weapons, and they then used these to attack the two Tsuchikumo living in the caves, defeating them near the headwaters of Inaba.
I’m not really sure what the mallets were all about, but since the Tsuchigumo are implied to have lived underground—these ones specifically, it also feels like they were playing some kind of giant and violent game of whack-a-mole. Of course, the description of the aftermath was much more gruesome, with claims that there was so much blood it soaked the soldiers’ feet up to their ankles, and they called that area the Blood Fields—Chida—because of the gory aftermath.
But they weren’t done yet—there still was more. After defeating Awo and Shiro in their caves, the army crossed Mt. Negi, seeking Uchizaru, but they stopped when they came under heavy attack from multiple sides, caught in what appears to be a cross-fire ambush of some kind. This caused Oho Tarashi to pull his men back to figure out what to do next. And of course, what else do you do when you have a big decision to make and aren’t sure what is best? That’s right! He pulled out the magic eight-ball of the Kofun era: Divination.
And so, armed with this occult intelligence, Oho Tarashi decided that they should maneuver around Uchizaru, and first attack one of the other Tsuchigumo, Yata. The Yamato forces descended on the moor of Negino and defeated Yata and his forces. This unnerved Uchizaru, who was losing allies left and right, and so he attempted to submit, hoping that he and his men would be spared, but Oho Tarashi Hiko was having none of it, and he refused Uchizaru’s submission. And so Uchizaru and his men—including, one assumes, the last Tsuchigumo leader, Kunimaro—decided that it would be better to die than to fall into their enemies’ hands, and they threw themselves into a ravine, where they perished.
There follows a story about Oho Tarashi Hiko kicking a giant stone into the air as though it was a leaf on the wind as part of an oath that he would destroy the Tsuchigumo, though, since he had just done that, it seems a bit out of order. It also goes into the three deities that he prayed to, I guess attributing his victory to them. We may come back to this, but for now it appears to have little relevance to our immediate story as we try to understand what might be going on.
Speaking of, what is going on here? Oho Tarashi Hiko comes to take on the Kumaso, but first has to fight off bandits, and *then* fights off Tsuchigumo? That seems rather out of place—though they were on his way to the land of the Kumaso, so I guess there is that.
If I try to look beyond the narrative of the Yamato court, I could see it a little differently. For instance, from Saba, he sends out an advance team who meets the titular ruler of the land of Toyo—or at least that part later known as Buzen—Kamuhashi Hime. Yamato and Toyo come to an agreement and they offer military aid in securing control of the nearby territory. This then repeats itself to the south, in the land of Ohoita, where they meet with Haya tsu Hime. While Haya tsu Hime is only credited with running a village—or mura—she may have been an ally similar to Kamuhashi Hime, but her problem seems to have been with people living in the interior part of the island, up in the mountain valleys, and again Yamato forces lend their aid, possibly in return for an alliance. In this light, it is less simply conquest, and more like consolidating alliances with various groups and helping to ensure that they would be in positions to be useful to Yamato—such as allowing trade through the straits, and protecting the sea lanes of the Seto Inland Sea—after all, most of these allies are coastal, while their enemies appear to be up at the headwaters—that is, up in the mountains. Conflicts, then, between coastal and interior polities.
And I can’t pass by without also commenting on the fact that the two allied leaders, so far, are both women. Women who are in charge of settlements, communities, and even entire countries.
Having secured the countries of the Northern Toyo and Ohoita—which would later be part of Toyo before the two were split into Buzen and Bungo in the 7th century—Oho Tarashi Hiko and his men continued south in their pursuit of the Kumaso, coming to Himuka—aka Hyuuga—the land where Ninigi no Mikoto himself is said to have descended to earth. They set up a residence—specifically a “traveling palace”, which seemed to be the norm in their journeys—in a place called Takaya, believed to be the location of modern Takaya Shrine, in Saito city, Miyazaki. Saito city itself has an impressive number of kofun—a collection of over 300 in the western plain, built between the 3rd and 7th centuries, known as the Saitobaru Kofungun. It even includes two large tombs that are identified by the Imperial Household Agency as the tombs of the mythical Ninigi no Mikoto and his wife, Konohana Sakuya Hime. However, let’s face it, I am highly skeptical of any ancient Yamato ancestors in this area, and figure that was a later addition to the lineage. Still, a somewhat intriguing connection.
Keeping his men at Takaya, Oho Tarashi Hiko consulted with his generals on just how they would approach this next task. From what they knew, the Kumaso led by two men, known as Atsu-Kaya and Sa-Kaya. Between the two of them they had at least 80 warriors, or “Braves”—Kumaso-takeru. That may not sound like much in modern terms, but it was likely quite the warband for the time, especially given how far the Yamato forces were from their home base.
Oho Tarashi Hiko wanted to try to get through this as best he could without fighting, if at all possible. One of his ministers proffered a rather radical suggestion. It seems that one of the Kumaso braves had two daughters, Ichi Fukuya and Ichi Kaya. What if the Yamato sovereign were to offer presents and let them know he was seeking marriage. Using this ruse, they could infiltrate the Kumaso, get to know their strengths, and attack them when they were least expecting it. Oho Tarashi liked this plan and so it was put into motion.
The two Kumaso women were lured into this Yamato version of the Bachelor, and Oho Tarashi immediately made love to Ichi Fukaya, who apparently fell for him something hard. She suggested that she could get the Kumaso to submit—she would just need a couple of soldiers to accompany her back home.
And so, she brought the soldiers back to her father’s house, and she got her father so drunk on wine that he passed out. Then she cut his bowstring, so he couldn’t defend himself, and called in the Yamato soldiers, who killed him straight away.
This had the desired effect—the Kumaso were apparently subdued quickly after that, though the details beyond that one incident are obscured.
As for Ichi Fukaya, what happened to her? Well, if she thought that the Yamato forces would reward her for her actions she was sadly mistaken. Rather than being pleased with her ruthless act of loyalty, Oho Tarashi Hiko was disgusted. After all, how could she so easily participate in the murder of her own father? And if she was willing to do that, what else would she do? What loyalty could he really count on? No, Ichi Fukaya’s reward for betraying her father and, indeed, all of her people, was death. Her sister, Ichi Kaya, on the other hand, was given to the chieftain of the country of Ki, south of Yamato.
With the Kumaso subdued, Oho Tarashi found the land of Himuka rather peaceful, and he stayed there with his court for six years, we are told. He even took a local bride, Miwakashi Hime, and together they had a son—Toyokuni Wake no Miko, or the Royal Prince, Lord of the country of Toyo, who was, in turn, the ancestor of the chieftain of the country of Himuka—later Hyuuga.
Of course, what they don’t mention in this are all the little details. One big logistical question that I’m going to explore a bit is, if Oho Tarashi was spending all this time outside of Yamato, then who was tending to the court rituals? Were they performing the Niinamesai and other such rituals at Takaya, or was there a stand-in back in Miwa that was doing all of this for them? How many court members were with him and who was “minding the store”, so to speak, back home? I mean, while six years doesn’t exactly hold a candle to some monarch’s absences—I’m looking at you Richard the Lionheart—they at least had regents and robust systems in place to manage things while they were gone. What did Oho Tarashi have?
In fact, later on in his reign, back in Yamato, Oho Tarashi Hiko would hold a feast for his ministers, which lasted several days. During the feast, his son and eventual successor Waka Tarashi Hiko, as well as a trusted minister, Takechi Sukune, were conspicuously absent. When Oho Tarashi tracked them down and asked why they were keeping themselves apart, they explained that somebody had to be guarding against the crazies. What would happen if, while everyone was drunk and incapacitated, some madmen were to take the palace? So they were keeping watch.
If things were so bad they couldn’t leave the store without a minder for several days, what made them so confident they could be gone for six years?
And while Himuka isn’t the Holy Land—they were still within a few weeks boat ride back to Yamato—faster if it was an emergency, I have to wonder about much of this. Several theories come to mind that could explain what was going on.
First, perhaps this is a good example of the co-ruler idea, where one ruler focused on the rituals at home while the other handled military matters, such that one might go on an expedition and still leave a functioning administration—such as it was—back home.
Second, there is always the possibility that Oho Tarashi Hiko was not the ruler when he went on campaign, but perhaps simply a prince, and without context the story of his expedition against the Kumaso just became part of his reign, since we don’t tend to get much of the sovereigns lives outside of their reigns.
Then there is the possibility he was never there at all. That it was some other general leading the armies. Of course, that always brings its own set of potential problems, even if we are only talking about warbands, moreso than large groups of armed forces.
Of course, there may have been a regent left back in Yamato that we just don’t hear about. After all, this isn’t about them, or even about the state—it is about the royal line.
And then the whole thing about 6 years may have been nothing more than an exaggeration as well. Or perhaps, rather than sitting there in comfort, the wars with the Kumaso actually did drag on. Maybe the story we aren’t seeing is of supply lines all the way back to Yamato supplying men and goods while they fought with their allies against an entrenched opponent who would not go quietly. But a military quagmire is not the epic narrative that anyone wants to read about—least of all the royal descendants.
Then, finally, there is the outside possibility that Oho Tarashi wasn’t originally from Yamato at all, but that he was actually a ruler in Kyushu, or at least in Western Japan. That could explain the sudden change from two sovereigns named “Iribiko” to several sovereigns styled Tarashi—Tarashi the Elder—Oho Tarashi—and his son and eventual successor, Tarashi the Younger—Waka Tarashi—followed by Tarashi Nakatsu Hiko, who is also known for his campaigns in Kyushu.
Who knows the truth, but this definitely seems to be the first time that the territories in Kyushu really are shown entering the Yamato sphere, so I still find it an important story.
Now after six years, Oho Tarashi Hiko decided to pack it in and head back home, but not before finishing a circuit of Kyushu. And so they crossed overland, through what is believed to be the territory of the Kumaso. As they neared what is believed to be the modern sight of Kobayashi, they saw a group gathered at the banks of the Iwase River. Cautiously—after all, they were basically in a foreign land—Oho Tarashi Hiko sent two of his retinue ahead. These were Hinamori the Elder and Hinamori the Younger. Hinamori the Younger brought back word that everything was good—the crowd gathered there was summoned by the local lord, Izumi Hime, the lord of Murokata, which would seem to indicate she was the local ruler of the area around modern Kirishima up to the Iwase River. Interestingly, the Nihon Shoki specifically calls this area “Hinamori”, and there is a local peak known, today, as Hinamori Dake. You may also have a vague memory of Hinamori from the days of Himiko—it was the title given for the deputy governors in Tsushima, Iki, Ito, Na, and Fumi—basically all of the states mentioned in the Weizhi between the Korean Peninsula up through Kyushu. Whether or not this Hinamori was at all related, who knows, but it is an interesting connection.
By the way, if you go to Kobayashi, today, they have a stone where they said Oho Tarashi took his ease, presumably during the feast. Of course, how one would even prove such a thing I have no idea, but it is yet another connection in the minds of the people between that place and this story.
Continuing on their way, the Yamato forces arrived at the district of Kuma, and they summoned the princes of Kuma: Kuma tsu Hiko the Elder and Kuma tsu Hiko the younger. As is so often seen in these stories—so much so that it is almost cliché—only one of them accepted the invitation. In this case it was Kuma tsu Hiko the Elder. And so Oho Tarashi Hiko sent his forces to kill Kuma tsu Hiko the Younger.
The district of Kuma was quite possibly the heart of Kumaso territory—or at least the heart of the Kuma of the Kuma and So. Indeed, they were probably moving north towards the Kuma river and modern Kumamoto Prefecture, possibly through the area of Hitoyoshi, and perhaps nearby Kuma-mura. They didn’t keep to the mountains, though. They eventually made it to the Yatsushiro Sea, along the southwest edge of modern Kumamoto prefecture. There they acquired or built boats—the Chronicles doesn’t specify which—and took to the water.
We are told they stopped for a meal at an island at near Ashikita, and then headed north. The Hizen Fudoki records that they left Ashikita from Hinagare no Ura, specifically, and both the Fudoki and the Nihon Shoki mention that as they were on the water, the sun started to go down. Now of course, traveling in the dark was never ideal back in ancient times, when torches and the like were your best source of illumination, but I can only imagine what it must have been like to realize they were going to be caught in the dark in an unknown area. The men on the ships would have scanned the shores for any sign of village or settlement where they could pull in and take advantage of the local hospitality, but they saw nothing until dusk began to settle in. Suddenly, Oho Tarashi Hiko glimpsed a light up in the sky, and told the pilot to steer in that direction. Following that light, like the magi following the Christmas star, they made their way safely to land. Sure enough, they found a village, but nobody there knew what the light could have been that they had seen. Awed by this, Oho Tarashi assumed that it must have been a fire set by the kami to help guide him and his men to safety. According to the Nihon Shoki, this was Toyo Mura, the Bountiful Village, in the land of Yatsushiro. The Hizen Fudoki provides it a more romantic name, however: Hi no Mura, or the Fire Village, and likewise attributes this story to why the entire country was called Hi no Kuni—though given the Wa and their penchant for the sun, it is just as likely that it was named to be the “Country of the Sun”.
Departing Toyomura, they traveled on to Tamakina, in the district of Takaku, which is thought to be the area of modern Tamana city, northwest of modern Kumamoto city. There they were apparently not met with the warmest of welcomes, and we are told that the Yamato soldiers killed a Tsuchigumo named Tsudzura.
From Tamakina, they seem to have traveled east, back towards the center of the island. Traveling through the land, they apparently headed through Aso—the area around Mt. Aso, an active volcano in Kyushu on the border of modern Ohoita Prefecture.
From there they traveled to north Kyushu—Tsukushi—visiting numerous other places. I swear, just do a search of monuments in Kyushu and you’ll find a slew of what amounts to “Keiko Tenno slept here” (Keiko Tenno being Oho Tarashi Hiko’s posthumous name, of course) all over the place. The Nihon Shoki seems to take his route back up to Toyo no Kuni, including Mi-ke and the like, but the Hizen Fudoki puts him more in Yame, east of Chikugo, and Kurume, where there is mention of him in regards to staying in the “Kaura palace”. He is also said to have passed through Ukiha. The long and short of it is that it seems somewhat confused, and since all it would be is learning a bunch of different place names, I think we can leave it at that. There are some other stories that I skimmed or glossed over for time, and because they largely are focused more on the mythology than anything that would seem to connect us to an historical or geographical time period.
And with that, the Kyushu campaign was finished.
Well… mostly finished. There would be another round with Oho Tarashi’s son, Oho Usu no Mikoto, but that was not nearly as detailed and more directly dealing just with the Kumaso. But if we get into that, we may as well look at the rest of his story, and that will be an episode unto itself. So let’s save that for a future date.
As for this episode—whew, that was a lot. Many new faces popping up—the country of Suou in eastern Yamaguchi prefecture, and then the countries of Toyo and Ohoita—later Buzen and Bungo. And then Kuma and up to Tsukushi. It was quite the ride. Also, let’s not forget how many women we saw running things in the era before Confucian misogyny rolled into town and set up shop. Next episode we’ll look at the rest of the military campaigns in this reign and that legendary figure, Yamato Takeru.
Until then, thank you for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, tell your friends and feel free to rate us on iTunes, Spotify, or wherever you listen to podcasts. If you feel the need to do more, we have information about how you can donate through our KoFi site, kofi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the link over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Questions or comments? Feel free to Tweet at us at @SengokuPodcast, or reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.
That’s all for now. Thank you again, and I’ll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo’s Chronicles of Japan.

References

Barnes, G., & Ryan, J. (2015). Armor in Japan and Korea. Encyclopaedia of the History of Science, Technology, and Medicine in Non-Western Cultures, p. 1-16. DOI: 10.1007/978-94-007-7747-7_10234
Ō, Yasumaro, & Heldt, G. (2014). The Kojiki: An account of ancient matters. ISBN978-0-231-16389-7
KISHIMOTO, Naofumi (2013, May). Translated by Ryan, Joseph. Dual Kingship in the Kofun Period as Seen from the Keyhole Tombs. UrbanScope e-Journal of the Urban-Culture Research Center, OCU, Vol.4 (2013) 1-21. ISSN 2185-2889 http://urbanscope.lit.osaka-cu.ac.jp/journal/vol.004.html
Bentley, John. (2006). The Authenticity of Sendai Kuji Hongi: a New Examination of Texts, with a Translation and Commentary. ISBN-90-04-152253
Chamberlain, B. H. (1981). The Kojiki: Records of ancient matters. Rutland, Vt: C.E. Tuttle Co. ISBN4-8053-0794-3
Aston, W. G. (1972). Nihongi, chronicles of Japan from the earliest times to A.D. 697. London: Allen & Unwin. ISBN0-80480984-4
Philippi, D. L. (1968). Kojiki. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press. ISBN4-13-087004-1

Tajihi no Mabito no Shima(八口朝臣音橿)

Awada no Mahito no Ason (粟田眞人朝臣)

Prince Kawachi (河内王)

Tsukushi no Fubito no Masaru (筑紫史益)

Prince Mino (三野王)

Isonokami no Maro (石上朝臣麻呂)

Rough Transcript

References

Map of the Campaign

Armor and Weapons of the Early 4th Century

Dramatis Personae

Locations of Interest

Rough Transcript

References