Reading the Zōhyō Monogatari · 02
Horse First, Then Rider: A Matchlock Leader’s Priorities
A mounted opponent closes the distance. The speaker does not offer one timeless rule: he gives alternatives, then changes weapons and targets as the range collapses.
A fresh translation
Against a mounted enemy, it is best to fire first at the horse and then strike the man.
Depending on circumstances, one may instead shoot down the rider and use the loose horse to throw the enemy ranks into confusion.
When they press close, divide to left and right and begin the contest with spears.
Once you have emptied your cartridge case, pull out the heavy ramrod, hang the gun at your waist, draw your sword, and cut at the enemy’s hands and feet.
Original text
馬上の敵は、先馬をはじいて後に人を打よし。
又時により、乗たるものを打おとし、はなれ馬をして、敵の人数をさわがす事も有べし。
間近くおつつめたらば、左右へ分て、鑓の勝負を始むべし。
胴乱一杯ぶちまけたらば、朸杖をひん抜いて、鉄炮を腰にひつぱさげて、刀を抜て敵の手足をねらつて切めされい。
Words, equipment, and one uncertain name
- Hajiku (はじく)
In this occupational voice, to discharge or fire a matchlock. The same verb appears throughout the speaker’s instructions. - Dōran (胴乱)
A case or pouch carried at the waist. Here it holds prepared charges; “emptying” it marks ammunition expenditure, not throwing away the container. - Karasao / ramrod (朸杖)
A stout rod used in loading or clearing the gun. The old character and reading vary between editions and modern references. - Hanaré-uma (はなれ馬)
A horse separated from its rider. Its uncontrolled movement can interfere with nearby men and formations. - Asahi Deuemon
The name placed under the occupational heading. The speaking voice is vivid, but the text does not prove a verbatim interview with an identifiable soldier.
The first sentence is not the only rule
“Horse first, then man” is memorable enough to detach from its context. The very next sentence prevents that. Depending on circumstances, the gunner may shoot the rider first and let the loose horse disturb the enemy. The passage teaches selection between effects, not blind obedience to one target order.
Firing at the horse removes the rider’s platform before a later shot or blow reaches the man. Firing at the rider seeks a more immediate removal while turning the animal into a moving obstacle. Each choice changes both a single opponent and the space around him.
The wording “depending on circumstances” carries much of the tactical burden. The source does not provide a table of distances, angles, horse behavior, or formation density. A reader is told that the alternative exists but must not invent exact conditions the passage never states.
Range reorganizes the whole job
The sequence is built around closing distance. At firing range, the speaker distinguishes horse from rider. At close range, the gunners divide left and right. After charges are spent, the matchlock is suspended and the sword is drawn. The same person’s task changes as the enemy approaches.
This matters because “matchlock soldier” can sound like a fixed identity. In the passage it is an assignment centered on a weapon, not a promise that the weapon answers every phase of combat. Ammunition runs out. Loading time disappears. The formation must make space for another method.
The change is physical as well as conceptual. A long firearm has to be moved out of the hands before a sword can be used. The text specifies hanging it at the waist rather than dropping it. Retaining valuable equipment remains part of the action even at the moment of transition.
Why split to left and right?
The instruction to divide laterally appears between shooting and the spear contest. It may help clear the front, avoid a direct collision, or create room for spear users. The excerpt itself does not choose among those explanations. What it establishes is coordinated movement at a dangerous moment.
A group cannot divide effectively if each member improvises without reference to the others. The line assumes signals, awareness, and rehearsed relationships among weapon roles. A matchlock volley is only one event within a formation that must continue to function after smoke and noise.
The mention of spears also stops us from imagining isolated duels. “Begin the contest with spears” describes a collective next phase. Firearms, spears, and swords appear in succession because several tools and people share the same shrinking space.
Hands and feet, not heroic center mass
When the sword comes out, the speaker orders attacks against exposed extremities. The following sentence explains why: striking the front of a helmet can bend a common soldier’s sword like the handle of a cooking pot. Armor changes the sensible target.
The advice is strikingly unromantic. It does not promise that courage makes a cheap blade cut through protective equipment. Material quality and target selection remain stubborn facts. The soldier is told to preserve the possibility of an effective cut by aiming where protection is weaker.
This detail also links social position to equipment. The line speaks about the sort of sword available to a rank-and-file fighter, not an ideal blade in a later collector’s display. Tactical counsel begins from what the person is likely to carry.
A voice made from imperatives
Asahi Deuemon’s section repeatedly tells listeners what to put where, when to prepare the match, how to carry spare rods, and what to do if fire or loading fails. The speech is crowded with commands because it simulates instruction before danger.
The colloquial tone creates immediacy, but it requires historical caution. Zōhyō Monogatari organizes knowledge through named occupational speakers. A literary compiler can shape such a voice, combine traditions, and regularize advice. The name alone cannot establish authorship for every sentence.
The secure observation is narrower and still valuable: the work assigns this chain of matchlock advice to a foot-soldier leader. It locates expertise below the level of grand strategy and treats small movements, spare equipment, and target choice as knowledge worth transmitting.
Preserving the gun while abandoning its use
Once the pouch is empty, the firearm has ceased to be the immediate answer. Yet the speaker does not confuse temporary uselessness with worthlessness. The gun is hung at the waist. Earlier in the chapter, spare implements are likewise positioned so that they do not injure comrades or catch against a hat.
This distinction is easy to miss. Tactical adaptation does not necessarily mean discarding the old tool. It can mean securing it while another tool takes precedence. Equipment has a future beyond the next few seconds, provided the soldier survives and retains it.
The same logic appeared in this site’s earlier reading of the work’s edible load rope: an object can move between uses when circumstances change. Here the transition is not from transport to food but from firearm to sword while keeping possession of the firearm.
What the four lines cannot tell us
The excerpt does not report a specific battle. No lord, place, unit, date, or casualty appears. It cannot prove that every matchlock formation followed this sequence or that firing at horses was consistently effective.
It does not quantify accuracy, range, reload time, or ammunition capacity. “A pouchful” is not a standardized ballistic measure. Nor does the alternative of shooting the rider provide a success rate for creating confusion with a loose horse.
Finally, prescription is not observation. The text tells a soldier what should be done. It does not record how often frightened, wounded, or poorly supplied troops managed to do it. Advice is evidence for transmitted practice and expected problems, not automatic evidence for universal performance.
Battle as a series of diminishing options
The passage begins with a choice between two targets. As distance closes, the choices narrow. The formation must split, spear combat begins, charges disappear, and the gunner reaches the sword. Each stage is prepared by the previous one.
That sequence gives the advice its force. The speaker is not celebrating one weapon as decisive. He is teaching a soldier to notice when a weapon’s useful moment has ended, to keep comrades from obstructing one another, and to select the next attainable target.
A mounted enemy is therefore more than a large mark. Horse, rider, nearby ranks, distance, ammunition, and armor form one changing problem. The practical intelligence preserved by Zōhyō Monogatari lies in moving through that problem without mistaking the first instruction for the last.
Instructions for failure, not only success
Much of the section anticipates things going wrong. A match can go out. A ball can stick. A spare rod can catch against a hat or threaten a comrade’s eye. The enemy can close before another shot is ready. These are not marginal accidents added to a perfect firing drill; they define the conditions in which the drill has to work.
The selected lines continue that habit. Ammunition depletion is treated as an expected state with a next action, not as the end of useful service. Close contact likewise triggers movement and a weapon change. Preparation gives the soldier a route through failure before there is time to invent one.
This does not make the sequence mechanically certain. A wounded soldier may be unable to hang the gun or draw the sword. Units may lose contact in smoke. The value of the instruction lies in reducing decisions that must be made under pressure. It names where the gun goes, what comes into the hand, and which protected parts should not receive the first cut.
Source
Zōhyō Monogatari (雑兵物語), Upper Scroll, section headed “鉄炮足軽小頭 朝日出右衛門.” The wording was checked against the public-domain National Archives of Japan scan of Zōhyō Monogatari 1, a Kōka 3 (1846) printed edition, PDF image 8. The Kyoto University catalogue records another two-volume witness in the Tanimura Collection. The section title and punctuation have been regularized for reading.