The rake’s progress - from the battlefield to modern-day civilian protection - part 1

From the Scroll of the Mongol Invasion (Mōko Shūrai Ekotoba) - a fine example of a kumade in the centre.

Today, seeing the leaves beginning to turn to the gold of autumn, I was reminded of that perennial garden chore, raking leaves. It made me think of a reference I came across regarding a certain Matsuda Hidenobu, a warrior of some note who fought at the battle of Sekigahara (1600) during which he is reported to have used a long weapon called a kumade (literally ‘bear’s claw’) to bring down 11 mounted opponents whom his followers then dispatched. What had caught my eye was that the weapon he was depicted with was a large leaf rake (see below).

Chicken or egg? One of these is clearly derived from the other, but they both have poor old Matsuda using a leaf rake.

While it is true that the same word, kumade, is used for a modern leaf rake, this is very far from the weapon that Matsuda Hidenobu must have used.

The word ‘battlefield’ is often bandied about with regard to traditional martial arts – some of them really were created for or used on battlefields; others are more likely to have developed for civilian self-protection in what were very violent times. Some were probably meant as a kind of training to imbue discipline and other virtues in a suitable cultural package. Many are hybrids, adapting and developing military techniques for other purposes. But early examples of the use of the kumade can, indeed, be located on battlefields in early medieval Japan. 

This can be seen in artwork such as the Kasuga Gongen E-Maki (early 14th century - see above) and in the well known Scroll of the Mongol Invasion (13th century), and several instances appear in war chronicles, both on land and at sea. Set at an earlier date than both the aforementioned scrolls, the story of Taira no Yorimori being attacked by one Hachimachi Jiro, who hooked a rake onto his helmet, only for Yorimori to reverse the tables by cutting through the shaft of the kumade with his sword, the famous Nuke-maru, sending Jiro tumbling, and returning to camp with the kumade still attached to his helmet, has a ring of truth to it, despite the clearly fictional basis of many of the individual exploits in these tales.  These tales and picture scrolls were mostly created well after the periods they depict (not in the case of the Mongol Invasion scroll, however), but still in a time of pretty constant warfare, so they can be considered reasonably reliable in the weapons they depict.

Doubling as a weapon and a tool, it is difficult to ascertain the origins of this device, but its similarity to the kind of anchor used by small boats suggests this is a possible source. It is often depicted with a rope or chain wound around the shaft, and although I have seen no depictions (or read any accounts) of how this was used, it suggests the head may not have been too firmly fixed on the shaft and the rope/chain served as an additional means of controlling the opponent if the head became detached (or if the shaft was cut through, as in the story above).

Not surprisingly, it was used differently on land and at sea. On land, it seems to have been used both by foot soldiers and mounted warriors, principally as a means of pulling armoured riders off their mounts – a useful tactic, especially given the amount of cordage and loose fitting pieces that made up Japanese armour. At sea, it could be used not only to grapple with enemy boats, but accounts also note its use in rescuing comrades who had fallen into the water. 

Although it seems to have been effective, it was not particularly common. With the weight concentrated at one end, it is likely it was less well-balanced than more typical spears and naginata. Both Musashibo Benkei, legendary retainer of Minamoto Yoshitsune, who carried it as one of his seven weapons/tools, (which also included a large mallet, a broad-bladed axe and an iron staff, all of which were meant to indicate his strength) and the aforementioned Hachimachi Jiro, were warriors of more than average strength, and it may well be that it was, indeed, heavier and less wieldy than more common weapons. 

A close-up from the Denshoubi showing a hybrid rake-like weapon

That it was used by Matsuda Hidenobu in the battle of Sekigahara, suggests it continued to be used throughout the Sengoku period, and perhaps beyond. The fact that surprisingly few examples have survived to the present day suggests it quickly fell out of favour, perhaps to be replaced by other weapons more suitable to the demands of new era. A screen painted around 1614 (the Denshoubi probably by Iwasa Matabei) depicting scenes in Kyoto, shows what looks like a kumade, together with other pole arms, on display at a theatre. Here, however, it seems to have assumed something of a civic role, as something symbolic or to be used in a crowd control function. I believe that it is in this guise that it continued up the the modern era - more of that next time.

One last picture of Matsuda Hidenobu with his leaf rake.It looks like it is from one of the Osprey publications, but it shows the difficulty of finding accurate source material.

 

Unlocking the Secrets of the Tenshin Shoden Katori Shinto Ryū

The late Otake Risuke, master of the Tenshin Shoden Katori Shinto Ryū

 Tenshin Shoden Katori Shinto Ryū is one of the oldest extant schools of martial arts in Japan, with an unbroken lineage from late medieval times, blessed (until recently) with an open and charismatic shihan (not sōke as I wrote previously) who oversaw the teaching and passing on of his skills and knowledge to the next generation while managing to maintain quality control at the same time as expanding its popularity.

It was also notable as the principal koryū studied by Donn Draeger, and through his influence became the point of entry for many non-Japanese interested in older martial traditions. Because of this connection, it was also featured in the BBC documentary ’Way of the Warrior’, becoming familiar to another generation of practitioners outside Japan and it was because of both of these that I learnt about it first myself.

It has a broad technical repertoire utilizing a number of weapons and, unusually in traditional Japanese martial arts, involves quite long kata which are done at speed (and also, at least at one time and depending on the circumstances, also practiced out of doors). Seen from an outsider’s perspective, it is often difficult to tell exactly what is happening in these kata, especially as targets are substituted for the real target to allow a longer sequence and to hide the true nature of the attacks from outsiders. There are several videos online of Otake Risuke demonstrating and explaining parts of these kata, and one can only assume this is the tip of the iceberg. Although such explanations give us an insight into the meanings of the kata, it must be viewed as a partial explanation of the system as a whole - there is, no doubt, very much more that is kept within the teachings. However, it gives enough to have good idea of how deceptive surface appearances can be. 

At first glance, the kata appear more combative than those of other schools - there is much clashing of bokken and the pace is fast. In fact, they look like the kind of choreography you might see in a movie. When Otake explains the techniques it opens a window to understanding, but there is more left unexplained. Two of the points he stressed were that targets are predominantly those areas that would be left minimally protected by armour, and that the targets which are shown in the kata are not the real targets. Strikes made in the kata are typically blocked (for want of a better word) by the opponent’s bokken, or avoided, and although it is sometimes easy to see where the cut is aimed, often the intended target is purposely obscured.

Looking at the kata more closely, there are several other points common to much of Japanese swordsmanship. Many schools of sword stress the ability to make a straight downward cut; their kata feature this as an attack (albeit often an unrealistic one) and often begin with a number of cuts that are obviously not directed at the opponent. (You can see this in the introductory kata of the TSKSR.) Putting aside considerations of reigi (proper behaviour and respect, custom, even religion) that may have influenced these kata (and these aspects should not necessarily be downplayed) what purpose does this have? I believe it is intimately bound up with the style of fighting, one which relies on assessment of line and distance, and one which sees attack as the best defence. These initial cuts are a means of establishing one’s own awareness of the line of the sword, the line which you use to attack and, vitally, must defend against. Understanding and being able to see this line is a vital component of effective swordsmanship: creating and manipulating this line within oneself is an important step towards this.

Otake explaining the finer points of technique to a student

The kata of TSKSR feature a wide variety of attacks to different targets, but still, many of them derive from this basic downward stroke; some other schools keep this focus through whole series of kata. In branches of the Ittō Ryū, for example, understanding this is basically the main point of the whole school. It is not something that a student can develop quickly, but continually returning to this motion will, it is hoped, bring an unconscious understanding. The vital corollary to this is being able to read the line of the opponent’s sword, and this is the basis of all the defensive (for which also read 'attacking') moves.

If line does not seem to be as immediate a focus in TSKSR as in some schools, the same cannot be said of distance, and this, indeed, is key to a proper understanding of the kata. An awareness of this can be seen in the avoidance of cuts by stepping back or taking one hand off the hilt to avoid a cut to the wrist. The importance of this is greater than it first appears, for it is axiomatic in this school that “if you can block, you should cut”, which is to say, in principle, all the ‘blocks’ or ‘parries’ in the kata were actually meant to be cuts, either to the attacking arm or to some other part of the body. (I have seen many a discussion online in which people marshal a variety of evidence - often including reference to TSKSR kata - in argument against this, usually along the lines of “it’s in this kata” or “if it’s a matter of life or death…”, largely unconvincingly). 

I don’t train in TSKSR, nor do I make any claim to understand all the minutiae of the style, so feel free to disregard my opinion on this, but I think the above gives an accurate insight into what makes the sword techniques work. It is an interesting training method, and not having experienced it from the inside, I can’t give any direct comparison with other modes of training. From an outsider's perspective, it seems that some of the kata moves involve strikes of bokken against bokken that are far from the intended usage, even though the speed and rhythm of the kata is much closer to how the techniques might have been used 'for real'.  Like all kata, the effectiveness will depend on how good the attacks are and how much pressure is put on the student, and of course there are trade-offs. 

The vexed question of just how to conduct effective training was something that remained on people’s minds well into the twentieth century. I suspect that, in many cases, kata devolved into a choreographed performance in which the participants relied on foreknowledge of the attack to defend against it, not to mention attacks that were not committed enough to cause much damage even if they had hit. Overcoming these problems is where the advanced levels of training come in, and at least one commentator, Joseishi, an adept of the Shingyōtō ryū, noted that the inner teachings of a style are a development of what was taught as the basic principles, and the importance of sensitivity in developing skill.

For an insider’s view of TSKSR, I recommend listening to this online talk given by Aiden O’Reilly, who does a good job of introducing the style, as well as making some interesting comparisons with another style he practises. (See if you can spot my question towards the end).

https://youtu.be/RGFiodeyx0I?feature=shared

Golden Spring - Japanese historical fiction

                                                    FREE novella available here: Golden Spring

It has taken me long enough, but finally I have my 1930's mystery novel, The Tiger’s Gate available on pre-order on Amazon and most other online bookshops (only as an e-book so far but that may change).

Not only that, but my prequel novella, Golden Spring is available for download free here. You have to sign up for my newsletter to get it, but I promise I won't flood your inbox with emails.

The series is set in 1930's Tokyo, and in Golden Spring, our hero, Oshima Kai, is reminiscing about his time as a soldier in Manchuria and his old friend, Boss. Hired to escort the daughter of a local industrialist as she travels to the Golden Spring Resort, the two comrades look forward to a break from the monotony of a soldier’s life.

Of course, things don’t go as smoothly as they planned and instead of the relaxing weekend he’d hoped for Oshima finds himself involved in a deadly intrigue.

For those of you who enjoy period details and immersing yourself in a culture a little different from your own, this might be just the book. Throw in a shadowy fixer, bandits, a military spy master and mysterious woman and there's a bit off something for everyone! And if you like it, why not take a look at The Tiger's Gate. I hope you enjoy them!

For more information, see my website: cjhellman.com

Now I've sorted that out, I might get down to writing a few more blogs!

 

Passing of a master – Kuroda Tetsuzan (1950-2024)

 

Kuroda demonstrating battojutsu (screen shot from budojapan.com)

Tributes to Kuroda Tetsuzan, master of the Komagawa Kaishin Ryu kenjutsu (as well as related schools of iaijutsu and jujutsu) have been slowly appearing online, marking the passing earlier this month of a martial artist of rare skill, who had polished and refined his skills, passed down through his family, into something quite unique.

I never met him or had any connections with his school, but he clearly displayed impressive and unusual body skills developed, as he explained, through strict adherence and analysis of the kata passed down to him. He was able to illustrate facets of these skills in a variety of ways, opening aspects of his art to those outside his school. Indeed, he was one of the pioneers of this approach in Japan, of bringing the body skills of traditional Japanese arts to a wider audience, through books, seminars and DVDs. Kono Yoshinori (who was a friend of Kuroda's) and Akuzawa Minoru (founder of Aunkai) are two others who were (and still are) similarly involved in making such skills more widely known, but it was Kuroda who kept strictly to the art that was passed down to him. He has preserved and passed on the kata he was taught, and it is these that he sees as being invaluable to developing the skills of former generations of bugeisha. 

Watching him in action, his movements are clearly different from other schools of classical martial arts – the sudden change from one position to another and the very specific use of the body, for example. You can get a good idea of his concerns from an old (rather long but highly illuminating) interview by Stanley Pranin from the Aikido Journal. This is a short extract:

Since we stress kata [forms] training just as is done in other traditional Japanese martial arts, I don’t think there is anything that can be said to be particularly different in our method. I teach concrete, practical mental and physical techniques to enable students to realize the essence of the art through these kata.

A teaching called zegoku itto no koto has been transmitted in Japanese swordsmanship from olden times. When confronting an opponent one aims for a level where the movements of his mind and body control the opponent before he swings his sword. This is the highest level of swordsmanship. It seems to be a rather abstract spiritual teaching, but that’s not at all the case. It is an “invisible” technique which consists of advanced technical movements and the workings of the spirit based on these movements. All martial arts training begins with learning how to perceive this invisible element.

Kuroda Tetsuzan (2002)

https://aikidojournal.com/2002/08/26/interview-with-tetsuzan-kuroda/

The interview is from 2002, but from what I've seen, I assume his approach has not changed, however much his skills might have developed. What I think the interview gives is a sense of the importance of kata and how they can be used to develop particular skills. In these times when so much is available on video to be endlessly critiqued, when various forms of combat and combat sports are being practised and researched across cultures, when so many arguments are reduced to whether something works in sparring, it is not always easy to see the value of closely held secret methods of training or stylised kata that are not clearly (or clearly not) applicable to combat or self-defense. Some people have looked deeply into classical arts and derived real value from them, developing skills beyond the ordinary. Kuroda was one of those people.