IBot

Gary, We tend to allocate all swords into the tachi / katana / wakizashi / tanto classifications, forgetting that during the past, some swords were classified differently. I have a blade, in an Edo period mount, that is dated to the second year of Onin (1468), signed: Bishu Osafune Saemonjo Norimitsu. The nagasa of this blade is 596mm and like yours is heavy despite a wide groove on each side that occupy most of the shinogi ji. It is clearly meant to be used single handed - a Katateuchito I believe. Ian Bottomley

Most armours made to equip ashigaru and other low-ranking soldiers were laced in hemp (asa) for the simple reason that it is virtually indestructible and lasts without degrading, whereas silk has a finite life. Judging by the cost of buying a hemp kimono, as opposed to one in silk in the flea-markets, I suspect hemp lacing was more initially more expensive, but worked out cheaper in the long run because of its extended life. Ian Bottomley

As a former senior curator at the Royal Armouries, the UK's National Museum of arms and armour, I am acutely aware of the preference for conservation over restoration. I am also aware that the conventional attitude to this matter is that whatever process is carried out on an object, it should be reversible. To this end I have seen professional conservators fastening down lacquer flakes with approved reversible adhesives, using complex clamping systems that had to stay in place for months on end since the adhesives relied on the evaporation of solvents. What happens is that the adhesive around the edges of the flake harden and all but prevented solvent evaporation from under the impervious lacquer flake. This attitude of insisting on the need for reversibility is perfectly sensible if there is any doubt about the permanence the technique or if there is the possibility of the material used for conservation reacting adversely over time with the original. Another factor that is insisted upon by conservation staff that of the need for any restored element to be identifiable. To this end, any replaced or renewed element such as a plate in a European armour at the Museum was stamped with text stating it was a replacement, a process that was even used for new rings used to repaired mail. There is however something of a problem when it comes to the conservation of Japanese armour, not least because of the mix of totally disparate materials in their construction. Virtually all of the materials used in their construction suffers degradation from light, so unless an armour has been stored in the dark since it was made, it will have suffered to some extent. Another source of damage is the humidity of the environment it has been stored in. Lacquer suffers in a low humidity whilst textiles, rawhide and metals suffer if the humidity is high. Gravity too can play its part in damaging textile fastenings. In short, however we try to prevent it, the environment we live in is attacking our armours. So, what do we do? The obvious answer is to make every attempt to conserve the original and make every attempt to minimise further degradation. However, for some items, the damage has already been done. Do we relace an armour with new silk braid or leave it as a collection of separate pieces? Do we accept accept areas of missing lacquer or replace it by new urushi applied in the correct manner? There will be different views on the answers to these questions but is any view more valid than another? Ian Bottomley

I saw a copy of Ieyasu's Daikokunari kabuto in the US once. It also had the fern leaf maedate associated with it and was beautifully made but no indication of who had made it. Ian Bottomley

On one of my annual stays at Nikko Toshogu Shrine I was mooching around in their Museum and had a good look at a rack of bows. One requirement of the Shrine is that all the priests practice a musical instrument as well as a martial art. Some of the bows were very nominal and I suspect were used for driving away demons by plucking the string, but others seemed to be real. Perhaps kyudo was practiced there at one time - when I was there it was kendo that was very much the preferred martial art. I noticed that the string on the real bows in the rack was not down the centre line, as in Europe, but aligned with the right edge. This would have helped the paradox question considerably as well as needing the spine of the arrows to be matched to the bow. I have an Edo period bow but wouldn't dare try and string it so I cannot say how that aligned. Ian Bottomley

Chris, No - iyozane were wide scales assembled with virtually no overlap. Because of the latter they had to be laced onto a thick leather strip to hold them into a row that was then wrapped in thin leather and lacquered. I have a Momoyama dou made from them where the leather cover has been damaged and you can see that all of the scales have the full compliment of holes but the leathger covering was only pierced where the lacing was needed. Ian Bottomley

My dog is older than this. Ian Bottomley

It was the Onin war that did much to encourage the development of okegawa dou. As you will remember, the war broke out because there was a family dispute over succession. Being childless the Shogun had named his brother as his successor only to find his wife then bore a son. Nobles around the country flocked with their armies to Kyoto to support one side or the other, resulting in some ten years of largely urban warfare that failed to resolve anything. With their forces depleted and exhausted, they returned to their domains only to find they had been usurped by those they had left in charge; the classic situation known as gekokujo. It was the actions of the usurpers that led to the changes in the armour of the time. Having enjoyed the good-life while their lords were away fighting in Kyoto, they realised they were going to have to put up a fight to retain their life style despite the fact that their lord's armies were depleted and weakened. What they needed were their own forces. This led to the recruitment of peasants, farmers and others known as ashigaru, spurred on by the promise of improving their lot. Lacking the years of training the use of swords, naginata and other traditional weapons demanded, they needed a weapon they could use effectively and that proved to be the simple spear. The samurai the ashigaru had to face wore their traditional lamellar armours where the scales were held into rows by two leather thongs, the shita toji, laced through the lower four holes in each column of holes in the scales. It was a construction that worked well against a cut from a sword, a naginata or the low-energy impact of an arrow, but one where these thongs simply broke when subject to the concentrated thrust of a spear. The solution was to replace the rows of scales with strips of iron / steel, hinged initially in four places but still laced together vertically with braid. These armours still had the defect of incorporating a considerable quantity of braid that absorbed water in bad weather, increasing in weight and being difficult to dry out in camp. The final step was to eliminate the lacing and the multiplicity of small hinges by riveting the rows to each other and fitting long hinges connecting the rows. This gave gave an even stronger dou, one we now call an okegawa dou. Ian Bottomley

Chris, My apologies for my sarcastic post. It is now many years since I last visited Japan and I now would not want to endure the long tedious hours the flight entails. Fortunately, I still retain my mental faculties and my memories of meeting so many wonderful people there. It was on one of my visits that I had the pleasure of meeting members of the Armour Society at a dinner organised by my dear old friend Dr. Galeno. After dinner I spent hours discussing armour and sharing images of them with a couple of Society members in my hotel room. It was from that meeting that I was later introduced to Nishioka at his home where he showed me some of the restoration work he had done. He also showed me images of o-yoroi he had made and emphasised how he insisted on using had-hammered plates from which he made the iron elements whilst his wife wove the braid by hand. Perhaps what impressed me most was his rejection of a Heian style helmet bowl that sat on top of his TV because it was several mm too tall and the fact that he would not use machine-made braid because it had the wrong number of threads in it. A true perfectionist. He also showed me a copy of the miniature o-yoroi ,that if I remember correctly is in the Imperial collection, that he had made as a present for his wife. I recall how he described the difficulty of cutting the stencil for making the tsuru bashira leather. It was on a later visit to his new house that we had the discussion about the Heian style helmet bowl that had been on his TV and how he made the kara boshi. I think that now is the time to close this topic down as little more can be said. Ian Bottomley

I am grateful for the person using the nom-de-plume 'Miura' who has pointed out the ridiculous errors I made in my former post. I now realise I must have fantasied about having visited Nishioka San and that his wife cooked us a delicious meal of nasu. I remember in my dream that he showed me how he made the rivets for the helmet of a replica o-yoroi that was to be displayed alongside an original to demonstrate how it appeared when new. What is even more amazing is that I am holding an example of such a rivet as I type that for years I foolishly believed he had given me as a souvenir of my visit. Ian Bottomley

On another point, I have a copy of a diary kept by Myochin Muneyasu that mentions a pupil who made one of my armours. The armour is inscribed to the effect that it was made in 1847 for a samurai of the Chohan (Nagato) called Nakagawa Mochinori by a Ki Yasukyo and is of russet metal in a modern style - probably commissioned in response to the panic over a potential invasion by the Americans. According to the diary, Yasukiyo, whose real name was Araji Katsuzo, had stayed in Edo with Muneyasu only three years before returning to Nagato and making the armour at the age of 19. Three years seems insufficient time to learn to be an armourer from scratch, so it is probable that Yasukyo was already an armourer at the age of 16 and had been sent to Edo to learn the latest styles and techniques. The same diary also mentions that Muneyasu had a total of 18 pupils drawn from all over Japan over a ten year period, the youngest being 13, the oldest 46. It also includes some of the work being done around this time. In 1865 he carried out some unspecified work on a helmet by Myochin Nobuie and charged 19 gold ryu for it. In 1859 he made an armour in the modern style for a member of the Yamamoto family and charged just under 30 ryu. Another armours in a modern style were considerably more, in one case 120 ryu. Clearly these were available in different qualities, some perhaps incorporating re-used components. Being an era of nostalgia for the glories of the samurai's past, Muneyasu was quite prepared to meet the demand for copies of old armours. In 1858 he made a do-maru that he charged 212 ryu for, whilst in 1863 the Lord of Mikawa was charged 300ryu for a copy of an o-yoroi. Perhaps someone could approximate these prices into modern values. Ian Bottomley

I once had a chat with Nishioka San about making the hollow rivets (kara boshi) for a replica of a Heian style helmet bowl. He tried using a shaped punch on a block of lead to form the iron, but the metal split each time. Eventually he had no alternative but to hammer the metal over a shaped former, trim the lower edge and then add the rivet stem by drilling a hole in the apex, filing it square and riveting the stem into that. Even that amount of work pales into insignificance compared to a ko-boshi kabuto with some 2000 odd rivets, each column of which has the rivets decreasing in size towards the apex. Ian Bottomley

I was at Nikko Toshogu Shrine during one of their Spring festivals during which Tokugawa San attended to pray for his ancestor. This he does in a special side-room off from the main room of the shrine. I was perched on a shogi in the main room with my backside getting more and more uncomfortable as the Head priest, Inaba San, went through the ceremony. Finally Tokugawa San emerged from the side room dressed in traditional costume. The effect was really spooky as he looked exactly like all the portraits of Ieyasu. Afterwards during the evening banquet I managed to have a few words with him, and he came across as an absolute gentleman in the true sense of the word. Ian Bottomley

Whilst taking the blade out of the koshirae the other day, it dawned on me what this sword is all about. It has a screwed mekugi, the thread of which is absolutely modern in appearance. Pre-Meiji Japanese were never really comfortable with screw threads, most of which look very dodgy. That this sword has such a well cut thread would date the koshirae to the Boshin wars, a date of production that explains the reference to two masters (the Emperor and Shogun) and why there is no record of an Ishii maker of fittings - the whole sword industry packed up before the guy was recorded. Ian B

Every so often something comes along that causes a bit of head scratching. Almost invariably, my trusty, well-thumbed and re-bound copy of Koop & Inada will supply an answer, and when it fails it is almost invariably because of my stupidity. I also recourse to Nelson's 'Character Dictionary' when I can see a radical as it is often quicker. I now find myself in a position where all attempts to find a kanji, both in any of my books and on-line and, since it appears to be the first kanji of a name, I have reached an impasse. The tale began a couple of weeks ago with the acquisition of a rather imposing aikuchi. The blade is unsigned and at first I thought the mounts were as well but to my surprise I found a well written inscription on the rear of the kozuka that I illustrate here. Much of it I can read and I find the reason for the isolated 4 kanji at the top rather curious. The meaning of this, and I am paraphrasing, is something along the lines of -'Never try to serve two masters at the same time'. So far so good. Thenn we have the name Ishii Yojiro Minamoto ? yoshi - kao. I would be grateful if anyone can identify the mysterious kanji. Ian Bottomley

I agree with others that one of the primary reasons for the apparent lack of interest amongst the young are the prices being asked for anything of quality. I was fortunate in being bitten by the bug during the late 1950's when there was not only a lack of interest in Nihonto but a positive aversion to them in the arms and armour collecting fraternity. This attitude had arisen not only from memories of the recent conflict, but with the the opinion created by multitude of cheap Japanese items that had flooded the West in the pre-war years giving rise to the 'Japanese rubbish' attitude. During that era, Japanese swords of all descriptions were plentiful in antique shops, usually stuck in umbrella stands or piled up with bayonets on the tables at arms fairs. Here in the UK we are fortunate in that there is a residue of good Nihonto surviving from the late 19th century when 'Japanism' was fashionable. However, the prices being asked can be eye-watering. At a recent arms fair prices ranged from £1,000 - £2,000 for what were really only average Nihonto. That is a heck of an investment. As for Colin's point about a ban by the UK, don't forget our lords and masters were very badly bitten by their knee-jerk decision to ban hand guns. Oh did that blow up in their faces. I think our swords are safe enough for now. Ian Bottomley

Jean C, Here is a picture of the tsuba I mentioned. It has been ascribed to late Umetada School, but I know so little about sword fittings I wouldn't like to say. Ian

Jean C, As it happens I do have a very nice tsuba - a Christmas present from my sadly missed friend, Dr. W. Galeno of California. I need to photograph it. Ian

Brian, Yes I am still extant. I haven't been anywhere really, just tootling along picking up the odd sword here and there and generally enjoying life. It's funny how things happen. I bought my first sword when I was 14, but yearned for an armour in its box. Later, this wish became true and I both traded and sold almost all of the swords I had acquired (I once sold 30 swords and a naginata for £30 and made a profit). Those were the days when every junk shop had the odd sword in an umbrella stand that were invariably executioner's or 'harakiri knives'. Gradually I accumulated more and more armours, keeping some and passing others on. More recently I have re-discovered swords and have sold off some of the armours and started buying swords again, the finest being the subject of this thread. So here I now sit in my study, a helmet on a stand on my desk, some half a dozen or so armours in a room upstairs together with a modest collection of swords, a few teppo the odd yari, a naginata and jingasa hanging on a wall. - what more could I wish for? Ian

Thank you Colin and Jean - you are probably right about the alloy being hakudo. It looks very much like nickel - white, but dull and I would guess pretty hard. Iab

I didn't complicate matters by commenting too much on the koshirae, but people have asked so:- The tsuba and fuchi are gilded, the former with a shakudo rim, and covered in cloisonné wires in the form of minute leaves and tendrils in green enamel. The only oddity is the fuchi has a small red spot on the ura side. I'm editing this because I forgot the menuki. These are quite thin, but show repoussé marks inside, as well as soldered wires suggesting they were once pouch clasps. They are of a matt white metal that doesn't seem to be silver as there is no tarnishing even inside. What the alloy is I am unsure but could be a variant of shibuichi with a higher silver content. Ian B

Many UK readers will be familiar with the TV programme ‘Fake or Fortune’ in which an art-expert rummages around in the cellars of provincial art galleries and notices some feature of painting that suggests it may be a ‘lost’ masterpieces by a world famous artist. The show culminates in an opinion on the painting’s authenticity by a world leading expert on the suspected artist. There is a correlation of sorts between that programme and the story of the acquisition of the sword that forms the subject of this article, and in the absence of access to a shinsa panel, I can only offer the opportunity for the readers to make a judgement. This tale started one evening whilst I was idly scrolling through images of swords coming up for sale on various on-line auctions. Amid the usual offerings of Chinese fakes, guntō, and older nihontō, was an image that showed, of all things, a spectacular silver kojiri partially embedded in the black lacquer of a saya. The only other image of the sword the auction house had posted was a somewhat out-of-focus shot taken from the end of the tsuka, showing that the kashira was missing, that the tsuka maki was black and there was a circular tsuba that was textured in some way. Purely on the quality of that kojiri I resolved to buy that sword if I possibly could. Came the day of the auction I had a brief bidding-tussle with someone before the sword was knocked down to me at a price that was rather more than I had anticipated, but was bearable. What I had bought was a heavy blade with a 604mm nagasa, 16mm torii zori with a wide hi in the shinogi ji with a narrow hi along the line of the shinogi. The kissaki is of moderate length with only a short kaeri. The hada is a tight itame and there a slightly irregular suguba hamon with utsuri. Swords of this type, designed for use with one hand, are known as katate uchi tō. The blade is signed: Bishu Osafune Saemonjo Norimitsu - 　備州長船左衛門所則光 Dated: Onin 2nd year, 8th month, a day - 応仁ニ年八月日 (1468) Hawley lists a number of smiths using the name Saemonjo Norimitsu working in Osafune around this time, in particular, three generations founded by one whose work is rated in Afu Watson’s translation of Nihon To Koza as being rated Juyo Bunkasai or Important Cultural Property. The latter work has a complete section on the founder of the group giving details of his work that suggests I may have been rather more fortunate than I initially thought. Could it be I had acquired a blade by the founder of the group? Was it, a ‘fake’ or had I found a lost ‘masterpiece’? I think I have and will leave the readers of this to draw their own conclusions.

Grev, Obviously the braid is wider than the hole, so the edges need to roll up for it to fit through it. The edges are always rolled under / or curled downwards as it emerges - never tolled / curled upwards. Ian

I understand that the fur covers were called shrisaya, and the different types of fur indicated rank. Lowest rank used black bear-fur, higher rank used tiger skin. An example loaned to the Royal Armouries in Leeds, UK turned out to be snow leopard !!! - I've no idea what rank that indicated but can you imagine the reaction from Cites? Ian Bottomley

The use of yari were the result of te aftermath of the Onin wars when so many traditional armies were decimated and those left to look after the estates of the nobles usurped control - gekokujo. The forces these usurpers could muster were low ranking soldiers, peasants anf farmers out to better their lot. Yari were weapons they could master in a short time. They also had the advantage of being effective against the samurai's lamellar armour, smashing through the scales by breaking the thongs holding the in rows. It was this that led to the introduction of plate armours. The 'Book of Common Soldiers' shows all the yari with proper lacquered wood scabbards - so I assume they were used at all times except when sctually fighting. None of those depicted are particularly fancy shapes. Ian Bottomley