Last August I was lucky enough to receive a set of the brand new Kendo Taikai (kendo playing cards) from it’s creator, Ákos Vachter from Hungary. Having never seen or even heard of anything like this, I was quite exited to see what it was like.
First of, have a look at the video rundown of the full game play:
Next, check out the visual gameplay guide:
(To see an easier version of the game – called Musashi’s Challenge – check out this video here.)
The first thing that I noticed about the game when I got it was the professional quality of the presentation. The design is attractive, the cards stiff and long lasting, and – in general – the whole package was great. My only real disappointment in this respect was that the game board is not included in the package, you have to (if you want to use it that is) download it separately.
The cards are split into three colour-coded types – shikake-waza (brown), oji-waza (red), and special cards (green) – and you play these, individually or in combination, to attempt to score an ippon on your opponent.
I couldn’t wrap my head around the instructions at first but – after the instructional videos came out – things became clearer much quicker. Rules and an instructional video for an easier version of the game (called Musashi’s challenge) also came out as well, which makes gameplay a lot less complex, so if you prefer you can start of with the easier version (btw, as I was playing the full game with my friends we came up with our own versions of the meanings of some of the special cards, which made it even easier to understand for us).
The game is something that you have to play quite a few times with friends in order to ‘get it’ but once you get to that stage it is quite fun. I think it’s the type of game that – because it’s so mobile (you can play with one set of cards and no board) – you whip out at kendo parties once a few beers have been had and challenge your sempai and sensei. I’m sure university students could make a drinking game out of it as well !!
As we are coming up to xmas, perhaps – at a fraction under 16 Euros for a set – this would make a nice gift for a kendo friend or activity at a dojo party. Try it!!
This years All Japan Championships were won by 21 year old Takenouchi Yuya, a 3rd year student at Tsukuba university, one of the top kendo universities in the country (not to mention the direct descendant of one of the most famous kendo establishments that ever existed: Tokyo Shihan Gakko). It’s only the 2nd time in the competitions 60+ year history that a student has taken the title (it’s important to remember here that there were grade restrictions for part of that time) and the first time since 1988 (and before that 1980) that it hasn’t been won by a policeman. His road to success in the shiai – though a lot faster than most – follows a familiar pattern (YMMV):
Start kendo very young.
Attend a good kids (shonen) kendo club.
Achieve (some) junior high school kendo success.
Go to a well known kendo high school (possibly scouted).
Achieve (some) high school kendo shiai success.
Go to a well known kendo university (possibly scouted).
Achieve (some) university kendo shiai success.
Join a regional police dept. or Keishicho (recruited).
Spend a few years training very hard and competing in police competition, perhaps even making it to the All Japan Champs themselves.
Win the All Japan Championships (possibly after multiple attempts).
This is pretty much the usual route of most if not all modern All Japan Championship winners (male) for as long as I can remember (again, YMMV). Even if a particular competitor gets to step 9 success in the All Japans itself doesn’t come to everybody, especially when there is a some dominant competitors around making things awkward (e.g. Miyazaki Masahiro and Uchimura Ryoichi). Note that shiai success as a policeman is one of the most important keys to a possible professional kendo teaching position post-tokuren (mid 30s).
Takenouchi is in the unique position of achieving number 10 while still being on step 7. What this means for him personally I have no idea, but I can guess that recruitment offers will increase (which is awesome for him as most Japanese university students struggle to find a job after graduating).
But anyway, discussion of the All Japan championships is not really the point of this article and, honestly, I’m not too interested in who wins or who doesn’t anymore. Personally, I’m far more interested in the process that people went through to achieve “success” in their kendo lives, whether this be in shiai or what not. As such – and to serve as a counter to Takenouchi and the pattern described above – I’d like to introduce kenshi 24/7 readers to the story of Asagawa Haruo sensei, winner of the 4th All Japan Kendo Championships way back in 1956.
The following is a highly abridged and freely adapted version of an interview from the very late 70s (published in 1981, I’m not sure of the exact interview date).
“My family were descendants of Heike warriors who fled defeat in the wars. Originally they worked the land selling many types of products. Eventually, however, the business collapsed and the family moved onto other work.
My father was a barber and had 5 kids. From 8-14yrs I learned kendo from a very unique school teacher called Taika sensei. Although we only had 12 kids in the kendo club he was a really good teacher and he helped me develop quickly.
However, my family were so poor at the time that I shouldn’t really have been spending my time doing kendo. When I got home I had to look after my younger brother. If I said I had been doing kendo my father would scold me.
There were times when I’d carry my baby brother on my back and take my other kindergarden-aged brother by the hand and lead them to school. Taika sensei would tell the girl students ‘Asagawa is going to do kendo, so look after the kids’ and off I would go to practise. When I returned home my father would scream at me.
I continued to practise secretly like this during my youth and was berated countless times by my father.
After doing this for about a year or so our school won a prefectural level school competition. News of it appeared in the newspaper, and the bicycle shop owner – whose shop was next to my fathers – walked round with the paper and showed my father: ‘Look, Haruo is in the paper!’ My father react as a pigeon does when hit by a peashooter, he was shocked: ‘When did this happen? Where?’
After winning this competition my father started to understand a little bit more and he allowed me to practice kendo as well as relieving me of having to look after my younger brothers. I went on to win many competitions at this time and my nickname became shobu-Asagawa.”
After graduating from elementary school (at 14) various junior high schools tried to recruit him.
“My family was too poor to think of continuing education even though I was being recruited. My father wanted me to continue the family business but I was dead-set against doing that.
There was a kendo/jukendo teacher called Yoshida (a military school instructor) at one of the schools who basically demanded that I attend his school. ‘You don’t need to pay a school entrance fee, you don’t need to pay tuition fees… in fact, we will give you some pocket money’ he said. Taika sensei went to my father and beseeched him ‘It’s such a waste for his kendo career to end before it started’ he said. Eventually my father relented and allowed me to go to junior high school. This was the start of my real kendo shugyo.
Yoshida sensei was a strong teacher and training was hard. I attended practice those 3 years whether it rained or shined, travelling 40 minutes by bicycle to school. We trained everyday until the sun set, even the long summer days. As he was from a military school, the training was regimental. Over the 3 years he gradually increased our skill so that we were able to win many tournaments including the prefectural tournament and becoming 2nd in All Japan Junior High School championship (editor: at this time the shiai were kachinuki style, Asagawa was the sempo and beat 4 teams – 20 people – himself).
After Yoshida sensei finished his 3 year position at the junior high school he became a kendo/jukendo teacher for the navy and eventually died during the war in Shanghai.”
At the age of 18, Asagawa graduated from the junior high school in 1937 and became a substitute primary school teacher, despite not having any qualifications nor knowing how to teach.
“I had no dream of becoming a teacher, all I wanted to do was earn money (because my family was poor) and, as such, I studied to get a proper teacher license and would take on extra kendo instruction duties here and there for money. Eventually I realised that being a teacher was never going to make me rich, so I started to think about quitting and going to Manchuria or something. Eventually, in 1939, I joined the army. I was 20 years old.
During army training I did really well and I aimed at becoming an Company Commander. My superiors saw that I had enough ability and were keen that I get promoted to that status. However when they looked at my school record they found that I didn’t study enough and had bad scores. Because of this I couldn’t receive a recommendation and so could not be promoted. This shocked me and I decided to re-think my attitude, which was to change the direction of my life completely.
Upon completion of my training I worked for a year as a leader of an army education division, after which I was ordered to take a teaching position at a newly created army reserve officer training school. This was around the time of the start of the pacific war. Here I taught military drills, jukenjutsu, and kendo. At the time I had the highest available rank of 5dan in both arts (editor: note that he was issued his 5dan both by Toyama Gakko and the Butokukai).
When the pacific war started I asked to be sent to the front lines but was denied the chance. Eventually, however, I was ordered to go to Singapore in February 1944. At that time it was said that something like 80-90% of the boats heading that way were sunk. Luckily I reached my destination safely and upon arrival I was attached to a special group that gathered people with special skills together. My job was to teach kendo and jukenjutsu to officers from various battalions. I was 25 at the time.
People who practised with me then came from Busen, or had graduated university, however, I never lost to any of them. The time I spent in this job was highly beneficial to my kendo shugyo.
As things worsened we built caves and stayed in them until the end of the war (editor: as you can imagine, there is little discussion about combat or anything in the interview). “
Asagawa returned to his hometown in 1946. It was a time of great hardship throughout Japan.
“After being demobilised I returned a different man to a country where the fields were burned, kendo was banned, and living an ordinary life was difficult. Even though life has become better since then, the mental scars of living through such a tough period are still with me today.
Ono sensei, who currently (at the time of the interview) is a director of the ZNKR and in the past was the director of both the imperial guards and national police, used to bring people together and secretly practice kendo in the local Butokuden. His (brave!) excuse was that even though it was banned in schools, there was nothing stopping people from privately practicing.
When shinai-kyogi came around I also practised that, and won the National Athletic Meet, after which my nickname became ‘shinai kyogi Asagawa.’ I didn’t like this at all so I decided to work hard at practising iaido (I already knew Toyama Gakko battojutsu). Although I started serious practise of iaido in order to clear my name, I kept going at it and am currently kyoshi 8dan. I believe that kendo and iaido are two sides of the same coin, and I know that Kamimoto Eiichi sensei (iaido hanshi 9dan, kendo hanshi 8dan) thought the same way. Whenever we did an iaido seminar we told everyone to bring their bogu, and we’d practise kendo no kata as well.
After this I was commissioned by Gifu city police dept. to teach kendo, but as I couldn’t earn enough to live, I also started a commercial industry side job as well. However, doing 2 jobs at once wasn’t working well, so I decided then to concentrate solely on kendo. I was working at police dept and teaching at a high school, but it still wasn’t enough. My wife then helped out by finding work in a traditional dance troupe. From the ages of 26-29 all I did was kendo and, my father getting sick of it, kicked me out. I ended up living in a primary school gym’s night guard station. There were only 2 rooms there, and it was when my son was about 6 or 7 years old.
Despite working multiple jobs (police kendo teacher, high school kendo teacher, and as the attendant at the primary school gym I was living in) plus my wife’s dancing, we still didn’t have enough money to live. At the time the police system was under reform and I wondered if I couldn’t get a proper full time job as a police kendo shihan. At this time the idea came to me that if I won the (recently begun) All Japan Kendo Championships then I’d get offered a full time position somewhere. With this in mind I took the money we had saved for my son’s school tuition, and embarked, in 1955 at the age of 36, on a musha-shugyo.
The first place I went to was Keishicho in Tokyo and after that I walked around Kanto for a month doing kendo here and there. The last place I arrived at was Mito Tobukan. I spent a week in the dojo practising multiple times a day. Kowaza sensei would ask me ‘Don’t you miss your wife?’ ‘Of course I do’ I said, ‘I am fighting hard to continue this hard shugyo.’ Kozawa sensei said ‘What you are doing is admirable, but you must look after body more carefully. It’s about time you went home.’ The next day, after a warm friendly handshake from Kozawa sensei, I headed home. I was resolved to use this experience in challenging the following years All Japan Championships.”
The following year Asagawa sensei qualified as the Gifu prefecture representative to the 4th All Japan Kendo Championships.
“When someone secured their position as a prefectural representative there would usually be gifts and celebratory parties. However, I refused all of these things and set off towards Tokyo secretly in a late night train one week before the shiai. Nobody saw me of at the station but my wife. I got off the train in Kanagawa and practised with the police department. I was in amazing form, as if the ‘shobu-Asagawa’ of old had come back! However, even though I was in great form I couldn’t relax. I played some pachinko and I couldn’t relax. I visited Hachimangu shrine in Kamakura and still couldn’t relax. Lastly I visited the Kamakura Daibutsu. There I sat facing him until the sun came up.
What I realised during that night was that I desired to win to much; I was trying too hard. I decided then to just give up, to stop thinking only of winning. Then, finally, I felt clear.
So I had thrown all thoughts of victory out. It was my first time in the competition after all, and there were famous competitors such as Nakakura Kiyoshi and Iho Kyotsugu taking part. Probably because of being known as ‘Shinai-kyogi Asugawa’ nobody thought I had a chance. At the party before the event when all the competitors were in attendance, one of the top sensei stood up and said ‘Good luck Nakakura, good luck Nakamura (Nakamura Taro was the previous years winner. He won the title twice and was runnier up a further twice)!’ but nothing to me. ‘What about me?’ I asked, to which he replied smoothly, half in jest ‘Oh yeah, good luck Asagawa!’ Thoughts of ‘I’m going to beat you all tomorrow’ started to swim in my head but I tried not to think about it and jinx my chances.
The next day I met last years winner Nakamura and his friends travelling to the venue. ‘Hey Asagawa’ said Nakamura ‘Please carry the winners flag for me’ he demanded in jest. I carried if for him from the station to the venue. Little did I think I’d meet him in the final of the competition later that same day.
My first round fight was a no-show, but in the 2nd round I faced difficulty versus Takano from Kanagawa. This was the only difficulty I was to face that day until the final. After this fight I sailed smoothly through the rounds until I faced last years winner Nakamura in the finally.
Actually, a few days early when I practised at Kanagawa police dept. Nakamura was there. I asked him for a fight and – because I was on excellent form that day and he saw that – he refused. This decision of Nakamura’s, I believe, changed my life. Had he accepted that challenge that day and we keiko-ed together then perhaps there would have been no strange feeling during the final that day. Perhaps I might even have lost. However, he had refused due to fear, and now he must face it. He had too much pride and was scared to lose to someone such as me.
When the shiai started I thought I’d attempt a kote-dou, hoping that my kote strike would take the mind of his dou just enough so I could strike it. However, when I went for kote I raised my hands too much and he struck my dou immediately. Ippon. Nihon-me. I changed my tactic and started aggressively attacking his kote. His movement was fast so every time I’d attempt to get debanagote we’d do ai-uchi and end up in tsubazeria. This happened a number of times. However, when he tried kote-men I was able to strike his kote successfully. Ippon. Shobu. Nakamura was strong in shiai and would strike me the minute he saw any sort of opening. However I was ready for him and struck his dou. Shobu-ari. Everyone on the venue was clapping and so were the shinpan.
When I returned to Gifu there was a big reception awaiting me at the train station: my wife’s dancing students, policemen, members of the public, and even an open roofed car. I tried to avoid all the fuss by getting off at the other side of the train, but I was soon discovered and pointed towards the celebrations. At 37 years old, it was the first time I had ridden such a fancy car in my life.
However, even though I trained hard, devoted myself to getting a full time police kendo teaching post, and won the All Japan Championships, I wasn’t given such a job. ‘There is no quota for such a position in Gifu police department’ they said.
Although my economic situation didn’t change because of the win, I started to become known amongst the general public. Due to this some nefarious people would drop my name when trying to make deals to build gyms and such like. Tiring of all this, at 39 years old I decided to rid myself of kendo once and for all. I planned to rip up my All Japan Kendo Championships winners certificate and go into some sort of business to make money.
Just at that time a city council member said he had some land near where I live. He offered to rent it to me and suggested that I should build and run a dojo on it. However, I had no money at all. My friends and my wife’s students got together and worked out the details: ‘lets get together and build a dojo’ they said. The ‘Asagawa dojo support group was founded with 60 starting members. It was settled then, my destiny, my life, was to be kendo. We built a dojo called ‘SORYUKAN’ (雙柳館) to teach kendo and traditional Japanese dancing.”
Asagawa sensei would go onto run multiple dojo’s and be one of the starting members and serve on the executive committee of the All Japan Kendo Dojo Renmei (an association of childrens dojo that exists beneath the ZNKR). He was awarded 8dan in 1969 and hanshi in 1974. In 1979 he attained iaido 8dan.
Note that Soryukan still exists in Gifu today. It looks like it’s run by Asagawa sensei’s son and maybe grandson. It seems – at least to me – then that his kendo life was extremely successful.
I’ll end this article with a last quote from Asagawa sensei:
“The educational objective of kendo for me is this. Even if you become the best in Japan it won’t allow you to eat. Kendo itself is useless. The point is that the kendo spirit is the means to forging the self, and it’s through this that you can lead you to become successful in todays society.”
Yesterday we held this years 5th Eikenkai session at our usual place, Sumiyoshi Budokan next to Sumiyoshi Taisha in central Osaka. Sessions at this time of year are generally quite cool but since we’ve been having some unseasonably warm weather over the last couple of weeks the dojo ended up being boiling!!
This of course didn’t stop us: we did our usual 45-30-45 (45 mins kihon, 30 mins waza keiko, 45 minutes jigeiko) format, followed by another 3 hours or so of post-practice drinking and eating. Great fun!
The last session of 2014 will be held on November 30th. If you are interested in joining us, please keep an eye out on the kenshi 24/7 facebook page for information.
Next years schedule has been finalised and is as follows:
Feb 22nd / April 26th (private, invite only session) / June 28th / Sept 13th / Nov 29th
If you are interested in attending any of our sessions, please read the information on this page.
The following is a translation of short piece by Haga Junichi.
Haga was born in 1908 and started kendo when he was 18. Moving to Tokyo he joined Nakayama Hakudo’sYushinkan and became one of the top pupils there. With Nakayama’s introduction he got a post as an imperial guard in 1930, eventually being transferred to keishicho in 1931 to work as a professional kendo instructor. In 1934 he transferred to Korea and taught kendo at police, military, and university level. Post WW2 he was a much sought after kendo teacher, but he turned down various requests, including an offer from keishicho. He was also influentially in helping to start up the ZNKR but chose not to continue his work there soon after the organisations establishment. He died in 1966.
Pressure the opponents spirit and technique with your own
During shiai practice most people (save the selfish) feel defeated when struck. On the other hand, there are times when, despite not sensing or feeling that you have been struck even lightly, a point is scored against you. This type of loss happens only when you spar with someone who is good at “touching” and cannot be said to be a true victory.
There is a kendo teaching that says:
There are mysterious victories, but no mysterious defeats.
If you take the effort to discipline yourself daily over time it stands to reason that you will naturally develop good cutting ability. With this skill there are times where you will be victorious in competition. Despite acquiring such technique however, there are times that you may lose: the source of this loss springs from trying to force things to much, that is, by desire and ambition. Like this, there are times in kendo where despite hitting or striking someone you don’t feel like you have been victorious.
Rather than talk about other people, let me give an example using myself.
Back when I was attended keiko at keishicho (Tokyo Metropolitan Police), there was this one time when I approached Saimura Goro sensei for keiko. I was around 24 or 25 and he was in his 40s I think. I had what I thought was quite a good spar with Saimura sensei, and so did my friend who was watching. However, when I sat in seiza and thought about it, all I could remember were the few times I was struck by Saimura sensei… all the strikes I thought I had made had disappeared from my mind like melted snow. I realised then that my strikes had actually been spiritless and that Saimura sensei had just led me around by the nose, striking me with large spirited strikes now and then as he pleased.
In kendo, if you don’t attack the faults in your opponents technique or any deficiency in their spirit, then you will never achieve true victory.
Edo, December 1865. Momoi Junzo and 8 of his disciples were walking home in the fading evening light after finishing their end of year keiko. Despite the cold and the late hour, the city was still busy preparing for the upcoming end-of-year and new-year celebrations. Coming down the hill at Choenjizaka and tuning into Ichigaya they came face to face with a group of horsemen travelling in the opposite direction. As the street was narrow Momoi and his disciples moved to give the horsemen space. Suddenly, one of the horsemen shouted brusquely:
“This is the city patrol, get out of our way!”
Despite the rude manner, Momoi replied calmly:
“Please, pass by.”
“Get further out of the way!” one of the horsemen shouted. “We need more space, move! We are the Shinchogumi under command of the Sakai family from Shonai domain. We are charged with policing the city. Move!”
“We saw that you were patrolmen and moved to let you pass. As you can see, we cannot move further than we have. Surely you can squeeze past?” replied Momoi.
“What?! Are you disobeying our order!” barked one of the horsemen, at which Momoi’s top student Ueda Umanosuke lost it:
“What the hell !?! I can’t forgive such insolence!!!!”
Immediately a number of the Shinchogumi as well as Ueda drew their swords and moved towards each other. All hell had broken loose.
In that instant Momoi stepped in-between the drawn swords. He faced the man who seemed to be the Shinchogumi’s superior officer and said gently:
“Excuse me, but I think you can see that we moved aside for you. Do you have any intention to rein in your men? Or are you planning to allow them to cut us down?”
The calmness of Momoi’s question disarmed the superior officer and he made no reply. Momoi then stepped forward, grabbed the still-mounted officers hakama, and pulled him strongly:
“Now, get down of your horse, I want a word with you.”
The dismounted officer and Momoi stood face to face:
“My name is Momoi Junzo, and I am a Shogun-appointed kenjutsu teacher at the Kobusho. Even though you are a follower of the Sakai family from the Shonai domain and an officially appointed patrolman, I can’t forgive your outrageous actions. If it’s a fight you want then I won’t stop it.”
Motioning towards his top student:
“This here is Ueda Umanosuke. He has a reckless disposition and it looks like he didn’t use up all his energy at keiko today.”
The officer, immediately realising just who it was he had crossed, meekly apologised, followed by his red faced men, and the whole affair was settled.
Momoi never drew his sword.
The dignity of Momoi Junzo
Momoi has dignity, Chiba skill, and Saito power
Known mostly nowadays as the 4th generation master of Kyoshin meichi-ryu, Momoi Junzo (1825-85) was a highly significant kenshi in the late Edo/early Meiji period. He first reached fame while teaching kenjutsu in central Edo in the 1850’s. His dojo, Shigakukan, was one of the most renowned dojo in the city, ranking with Chiba Shunsuke’s Genbukan and Saito Yakuro’s Renpeikan (collectively they were know as the “3 big dojo’s of Edo”).
His prowess was awarded with promotion in status and a teaching position at the highly prestigious Kobusho (Bakufu military training academy). From this position – and through his students – he would go onto to influence (directly and indirectly) on what would later become kendo.
Finding Junzo (field work)
Although I’ve known that Momoi moved to Osaka during the Bakumatsu period for a number of years now, I hadn’t really bothered rolling up my sleeves and poking around to see if I could find any remnants of the man… mainly because there was – as far as I knew – no physical structures left that I could go and visit. Recently, however, I accidentally discovered that in later life he had worked as a shinto priest just south of Osaka and that his grave was in the vicinity of the shrine. Using the excuse of a sore elbow, I decided to skip keiko one Saturday and go exploring.
The grave: Momoi’s grave is located in the far corner of a gravesite situated on the edge of a Kofun, a type of very old and, usually very large, key-shaped mound grave unique to Japan. The particular mound is called Hakayama Kofun and is located very near Furuichi station in Habikino, south Osaka. I guess nobody really visits the area much as there are almost no sign posts and very little information on Momoi save a very old and very faded bio of his life. Momoi’s wife Fumiko is also interred at the same site.
The shrine: A short 15 minute walk from the gravesite takes you to Konda Hachimangu (originally constructed in 1051), the large and spacious shinto shrine where Momoi spent his final years. Although there would’ve been a dojo in the grounds back in the day, there was no sign of one now.
Although there isn’t a lot of physical remnants of the Momoi left to wonder at, it’s nice to put the shinai and the books down now and then and actually get out and visit somewhere. It also served as a great impetus for revision.
If you are in Osaka and looking for something alternative to visit rather than the usual places, then I can recommend this as a nice afternoon out. Check out the gallery below for pictures of his grave and the shrine.
The first batch of instructors were chosen by Sakakibara Kenkichi (perhaps with input from Momoi?) and included the following of Momoi’s students: Kajikawa Yoshimasa, Ueda Umanosuke, and Henmi Sosuke. More of Momoi’s students were also employed by keishicho later, for example Sakabe Daisuke.
It was these kenshi that would put together the Keishi-ryu gekken and battojutsu kata, both of which include a single Kyoshin meichi-ryu kata each.… all that is left of the school today. It’s important to note that this was the first ever attempt at trying to standardise a set of kata to be taught to swordsmen from differing backgrounds, and as such can be considered a forerunner to kendo kata.
In the years that followed, young keishicho kenjutsu teachers/students would go on to include Naito Takaharu, Takano Sasaburo, and Monna Tadashi amongst others… all of whom would receive instruction under Kyoshin meichi-ryu kenshi (i.e. Momoi’s disciples). They would all also be involved in the creation of kendo kata in the future.
Nowadays it’s hard to measure exactly what impact/influence Momoi had on keishicho and modern kendo (especially since Kyoshin meichi-ryu is now no longer extant), but we can probably surmise that it wasn’t insignificant.
1825: born in Suruga province, Numazu domain (present day Shizuoka prefecture) as the 2nd son of the samurai Tanaka Toyoaki. His childhood name was Tanaka Zinsuke and his adult name Naomasa.
1838: went to Edo (Tokyo) and began studying Kyoshin meichi-ryu at Shigakukan under the 3rd generation teacher of the school, Momoi Naokatsu.
1852: became the 4th generation master of the school, taking on the hereditary name of “Momoi Junzo” (by this time he had taken the current teachers daughter as a wife and was adopted into the family).
1856: The Tosa domain samurai Takechi Hanpeita comes to Edo and enters Shigakukan (already an accomplished swordsman, this shows Momoi’s fame). Spotting Takechi’s talent, Momoi makes him the chief student of the dojo.
1862: The shogunate promotes Momoi, making him a direct retainer of the shogun. He is then ordered to become a kenjutsu teacher at the shogunate’s military training facility for senior retainers, the Kobusho. Other instructors included Odani Seiichiro and Sakakibara Kenkichi (Yamaoka Tesshu entered as a student and became an assistant instructor).
1867: is made the head bodyguard of Tokugawa Yoshinobu when he goes to Kyoto after which he is appointed a kenjutsu instructor at the short-lived Kobusho in Osaka (at Tamatsukuri). Disagreeing with the Boshin war, Momoi and a few of his students withdraw to the south of Osaka.
1868: government forces expel the shogunate forces from the Kansai area and burn down Osaka castle. The shogunate attempt to recruit Momoi to their cause again but he refuses. Instead he takes up an offer from the loyalist government to teach kenjutsu to soldiers from Satsuma, Choshu, and Geishu who would be responsible for policing Osaka. A dojo was built for this purpose in a now no longer extant temple in Tenma.
1868-70: after the prefectural system was set up and “Osaka prefecture” came in to being, a more official policing structure was started called the Naniwa-tai (it began with 80 members). Momoi was 1 of the 4 leaders of this where he continued to teach kenjutsu. At its peak, there were over 600 peace keepers in the system. In 1870 the organisation was split up as the civil war was over (the modern police system would not begin until later). During this period a new Shigakukan based in central Osaka was built and he taught kenjutsu here as well.
1875: becomes head priest of Konda-hachimangu where he built a dojo and taught kenjutsu, and Chinese classics.
1884: becomes the official kendo instructor for Osaka prefecture
1885: dies of cholera.
2005: is awarded a posthumous citing from the All Japan Kendo Federation
Bio of Momoi next to his grave
The location of Shigakukan in Tokyo is marked with this sign
1. the terms kendo, kenjutsu gekken, gekiken, shinai uchikomi are often used synonymously in this article.
2. the kanji for “Momoi” is sometimes read “Momonoi”
This article is based more on “pulp” sources rather than academic or original sources. There is nothing online in English about Momoi at all, so please consider this simply a basic primer about the man, rather than something academically substantial. Note that I used some artistic licence in the introductory part of the article!!