It is strange but true, that whereas for many years past much has
been said and written about the hypothetical transmission of Asiatic
influences to Mexico and Central America by means of the ship-wrecked
crews of Japanese junks, the precise date when official relations
were first established between Japan and Mexico has only just been
ascertained.
It is Señor C. A. Lera, the actual Mexican Envoy Extraordinary and
Minister Plenipotentiary to Japan and China, who deserves the credit
of having instituted researches in archives and annals of Japan
and succeeded in finding therein the documentary evidence which a
countryman of his, Angel Nuñez Ortega, had vainly endeavored to find
in the national archives of Mexico.
With the coöperation of Father Steichen, a learned missionary
residing in Japan, who is known as the author of a History of
Japanese Commerce, Señor Lera obtained translations of important
original documents, and incorporated them in a report to the Mexican
Minister of Foreign Affairs, which was privately printed in Tokio in
pamphlet form a few months ago, under the title of “First Official
Relations Between Japan and Spain With Respect to Mexico.”
On reading Señor Lera’s valuable contribution I found evidences that
he was unacquainted with the scholarly monograph privately published
in Mexico in 1879, by the distinguished scholar and diplomat, Señor
Ortega, under the title “Historical Note on the Political and
Commercial Relations Between Mexico and Japan in the XVIIth Century.”
I found moreover that although Señor Lera refers to it, neither of
the above writers had ever read that most valuable document, the
detailed report of his embassy submitted to Viceroy Mendoza, by the
first ambassador ever sent from New Spain to Japan. This is contained
in Vol. VIII of that monumental work published in Madrid: Collection
of unedited documents relating to the discovery and conquest and
organization of ancient Spanish possessions in America and Oceania.
Finding myself deeply interested in the facts preserved in the above
disconnected monographs, it occurred to me that I could not send
to the San Francisco meeting of the Anthropological Association
a more acceptable communication than a compilation of all three
publications, with translations of the original documents contained
therein. In preparing this I found it necessary, in order to fill
certain gaps, to refer to a number of works on Japan, and also to
incorporate certain data contained in a newspaper article recently
published in the City of Mexico by the erudite Father V. de P.
Andrade. I venture to believe that the data collectively presented
here, for the first time in English, will be of interest and value,
not only to historians and ethnologists, but also to the general
public.
To them it will doubtless be a matter of surprise, as it was to me,
to learn that it was no less a personage than Tokugawa Iyeyasu,
surnamed “The Illustrious,” who, in 1598, took the first steps
towards establishing official relations with Mexico. Iyeyasu is known
to have inaugurated the policy of exclusion and isolation, which was
perfected by his grandson, Iyemitsu, and to have organized the form
of government which secured to Japan a peace of two hundred years.
At the time, however, when he conceived the desire to enter into
direct communication with New Spain, he was at the beginning of
his remarkable career. Only two years had passed since Taikun
Hideyoshi had bestowed upon him, as a reward for his services as a
general, the eight provinces, which were designated “The Kwanto,” and
ordered him to take up his residence at the then unimportant town
of Yedo, the present Tokio. Considering that since 1542, when the
first Portuguese trading vessels visited Japan, the Portuguese had
been enjoying the monopoly of a system of trade by barter, it was
certainly a new departure for General Iyeyasu to attempt to establish
direct communication between his new domain and Mexico. It was his
idea that this result might be obtained if he could but induce the
merchant vessels which plied between the Philippines and Mexico
to touch at one of the ports of “The Kwanto.” With this object in
view, he sought the advice and aid of the learned Franciscan friar,
Geronimo de Jesús, who wrote for him a Spanish letter to the governor
of the Philippines, in which, as an opening to future negotiations,
Iyeyasu courteously invited the Spanish merchant vessels to seek
shelter in any of the ports situated in his domain, if ever overtaken
by the dangerous storms so prevalent in these regions. This letter,
which was written in the same year in which the second expedition to
Corea came to an end and a number of Coreans were brought from that
country to Japan, was not sent when written, for the negotiations
were suspended by the stirring events which culminated in the famous
battle of Sekigakara, which, in 1600, established Iyeyasu’s supremacy
in Japan. It was not until 1601 that Iyeyasu found leisure to revert
to his plan, and sent Shinkiro, a wealthy merchant of the City of
Sakai, as bearer of the above letter and some costly presents to the
governor of the Philippines. The latter, deeply involved at that time
in the war which Spain was carrying on in Cambodia against Siam,
responded by saying that Iyeyasu’s proposal pleased him extremely,
and that he would accept it as soon as he was free and able to do so.
Meanwhile he begged him to accept certain gifts in return for those
which he had received with much gratitude through the Japanese envoy
Shinkiro.
In the month of May of the following year, a new governor, Don Pedro
Bravo de Acuña, was appointed for the Philippines. In September of
the same year Iyeyasu dispatched Shinkiro again with another letter,
also written in Spanish by the Franciscan friar, Geronimo. The
original draft of this interesting document, which is preserved in
Japan, is in Japanese, from which language it was translated into
French for Señor Lera, so that he, in turn, could translate it into
Spanish, from which language I have made the following literal
translation.
I venture to suggest that it would be an interesting experiment for
some scholar to translate my version back into Japanese, and to
compare his translation with the original document and verify the
changes which must have been produced by its passing through the
crucible of three European languages.
“Minamoto Iyeyasu of Japan, to his Lordship the Governor of
Luzon:--
“After a long voyage your envoy has arrived at last with your
letter. He has spoken to me of the mode of government and the
flourishing condition of your country, and, at the same time,
delivered to me the five objects which you have deigned to
send me as presents.
“Although I have never had the honor to see or listen to you,
your amiable behavior makes me realize how all men are members
of a single family; which reflection has moved me deeply.
“Nothing would satisfy my desires so much as to see merchant
vessels establishing frequent communication between my country
and New Spain. In formulating this wish, it was not only the
interests of Japan which moved me, but also, in equal measure,
your own advantage. Many of your people have assured me that
it would be a considerable advantage to them to be able to
count upon a port in the Kwanto as a shelter for their ships
during tempests. They have also manifested to me the pleasure
with which they would see Japanese vessels making voyages
between the Kwanto and New Spain.
“I shall await your answer with eager anticipation.
“If you render me this service, I, in turn, will severely
prohibit piracy even in the most remote islands of Japan, and,
if you so desire, I will condemn all pirates to death. You, in
turn, can execute all Japanese who in the Philippines violate
your laws. If any of the merchants who with my authorization
visit your country, prove to be rebellious to your authority,
I will, upon being informed of their names, prohibit their
embarking again.
“Although unworthy of you, deign to accept as a sign of
friendship the Japanese suit of armor, which I send you.
“My ambassador will tell you all that I have failed to express
in this letter.”
It is related that Iyeyasu’s assurances did not disarm the
suspicions of the Spaniards, nor convince them that he would or
could keep his promise. Indeed the Spaniards’ fear to send their
galleons to Japan was not unfounded, for, but eight years previously
in 1596, Hideyoshi, since surnamed the “Napoleon of Japan,” had
confiscated without provocation the Spanish vessel named “San
Felipe,” and a month before the date of Iyeyasu’s above letter
another galleon, the “Espirito Santo,” almost incurred the same
fate. It was sailing with contrary winds from Manila to New Spain,
and touched the coast of Tosa in August, 1602. It was immediately
attacked by the natives of this province, and its captain, Lope
de Ulloa, had to resort to arms in order to defend it against its
assailants. As soon as the news of this singularly inopportune
episode reached Iyeyasu, in October, he hastened to write to the
governor of the Philippines, protesting that what had occurred had
been without his knowledge and consent. He laid stress upon the
amicable relations then existing between both countries--adding that
they might almost be regarded as an alliance. Refusing to admit that
his subjects were in fault, he adroitly suggests that it was probably
only the fear of a repetition of the “San Felipe” episode, which had
caused the Spaniards to take alarm and precipitate their departure
from the Japanese coast. He adds: “Henceforth, in case of any kind of
accidents, let your people not hesitate to take refuge in the ports
of my domain, for I have sent to all quarters severe orders relating
to this matter. Through your merchants I have learned that the eight
galleons which leave Luzon every year for New Spain desire to obtain
a license permitting them to take refuge in the ports of my country.
Full of compassion for these foreigners I have had eight licenses
written and sealed. These will preserve them from the rapacity of the
people, and thanks to them they will without fear be able not only to
take refuge in the ports and islands, but also to land and penetrate
into all villages and towns throughout Japan, without incurring the
risk of being treated as spies, even should they devote themselves to
studying the usages and customs of the land.”
While nothing could exceed the courtesy and good will expressed in
this letter, it utterly failed to reassure the governor of the
Philippines, who could but bear in mind several recent disastrous
losses of Spanish galleons, laden with the much coveted riches from
the Spanish possessions in Asia. But fifteen years had elapsed since
Francis Drake had lain in wait at Cape St. Lucas for the galleon
expected from the Philippines, and after robbing it of its treasures,
abandoned its crew on the arid shores of the Peninsula of California.
This disaster had produced a profound commotion throughout the
Spanish colonies, and brought infinite trouble upon the viceroy
of Mexico, who was obliged to send out a maritime expedition with
orders to pursue and punish the English corsairs. The seizure of
another galleon by a Japanese potentate had taken place but six years
previously, and now, at the very time that Iyeyasu was offering
hospitality to Spanish merchantmen, came the news of the real or
imaginary danger incurred by the vessel which had taken refuge in a
Japanese port. Considering that besides all this the memory of the
persecution and martyrdom of Roman Catholic missionaries in 1597 was
still fresh, it is not surprising that the Spanish governor took no
notice of Iyeyasu’s overtures, and broke off negotiations.
In the native history of Japanese Commerce (Nihon Shogyoshi) and
Kottenhamp’s “History of the Colonization of America,” this rupture
and the subsequent failures to establish the desired commercial
relations are attributed, no doubt justly, chiefly to the powerful
merchant princes of Seville, who violently opposed any encroachment
on their monopoly of Asiatic trade. Six years later, however, in
1608, the situation suddenly changed. A new governor, Don Rodrigo de
Vivero, came to the Philippines, where, at that period, there existed
a colony of about fifteen thousand Japanese. The principal Japanese
merchants residing in Manila petitioned him to resume the interrupted
negotiations, and an ambassador sent by Iyeyasu insisted, at the same
time, upon the advantages that would accrue to Spanish interests by a
friendly treaty with Japan.
Iyeyasu’s ambassador, in this case, was the Englishman William Adams,
a native of Gillingham, Kent, who shares, with his companion Timothy
Shotten, the distinction of being the first Englishmen who went to
Japan. Both served as pilots on a Dutch ship, the “De Liefde,”
which had sailed from Texel at the mouth of the Zuyder Zee in 1598
with four other vessels and was wrecked at Bunzo, in Japan, on April
19, 1600. Adams ingratiated himself with the Japanese, volunteered
to instruct them in the art of ship-building, and won the Emperor’s
notice by offering to teach him geography and geometry. Received at
court, he rapidly rose in favor. The title “Hatamoto,” or Noble, was
conferred upon him, and he became not only Iyeyasu’s influential
adviser, but was employed, as in this case, as the emperor’s envoy in
establishing commercial relations with foreign countries.
Won over by William Adams’ representations, backed by the petition
presented by the Japanese residents of Manila, Governor Vivero agreed
to renew negotiations at once, and commissioned the leaders of the
Japanese colony to write two letters for him in their language. These
and some gifts were entrusted to William Adams, who was likewise
placed in command of the next Spanish vessel which was sent to
Japan. In the first letter, addressed to Iyeyasu, the interruption
of negotiations and its cause were wisely ignored, and great stress
was laid upon “the amiable sympathy which from olden times had bound
one nation to the other,” and assurances were given that “far from
wishing to abandon it or allowing it to become lukewarm, it would be
his aim diligently to tighten the bonds of their long friendship.” He
states, immediately afterwards, that a number of turbulent characters
having promoted sedition and made disturbance in the Japanese colony
at Manila, he had adopted the course of sending them back to Japan.
According to Father Steichen not less than two hundred Japanese
were thus expelled from Manila. Governor Vivero adds that their
troublesome behavior would certainly not prevent him from receiving
any peaceful Japanese merchants who might come to the Philippines.
With respect to such nothing had changed. He continues: That he was
sending a vessel to Japan, and had given orders to William Adams
to take shelter by preference in a port in the “Kwanto.” In case,
however, that contrary winds should impede the vessel’s course,
he had no objection to any other port being entered, now that the
whole of Japan was under Iyeyasu’s Lordship. He did not doubt that
his captain and his people would meet with a good reception, and
he begged, at the same time, that the Catholic friars residing in
Japan should be well treated. In the second letter, addressed to
the shogun, Hidetada, Iyeyasu’s son, in whose favor the latter had
resigned in 1605, Vivero announced the sending of a galleon, and
states that he would be obliged if the shogun would send Japanese
vessels, but not more than four a year, to the Philippines, and he
requests that he view with benevolence the friars and priests who
were living in Japan.
By the time that these letters reached their destination, eight
years had elapsed since Iyeyasu had made his first attempt to open
negotiations. Vivero, the enterprising and enlightened governor of
the Philippines, henceforth became his ally, and, as we shall see,
conducted the first Japanese embassy to Mexico.
The credit of having established amicable relations should be given
to William Adams, whose influence over Iyeyasu finally opened to the
Spaniards the Port of Uraga, the most commodious and flourishing port
of Japan, situated in the Province of Sagami, a day’s journey from
Yedo. An imperial decree, dated 1608, was posted at the entrance of
this port, threatening severe penalties to all who might molest the
merchantmen from Luzon.
The answers to Governor Vivero’s letters, which were soon sent,
express Iyeyasu’s and his son’s pleasure at the realization of their
desire.
With regard to the Japanese who had been forcibly expelled from
Manila, Iyeyasu simply remarks:--
“In your country the government and the people live in
harmony, the inhabitants treat each other with good will and
courtesy, and extend even to foreigners the same general
benevolence. In Japan we also have just laws, and all are
governed with equity. Consequently we have no thieves nor
malefactors. Therefore, if the Japanese who are in the
Philippines commit injustices, pray condemn them to death.”
In a letter dated October 2, 1608, Hidetada reiterates his father’s
assurances that Spanish vessels might visit Japan without fear,
and expressed the desire that future communications should be more
frequent between both countries.
Perfect harmony having thus been established, friendship increased
between the Japanese and Spaniards, and the galleon which navigated
between Manila and Acapulco regularly touched at Uraga.
In the following year a change of governor took place in the
Philippines, and Don Juan de Silva, the new governor, hastened to
announce to Iyeyasu his arrival in Luzon, and his intention to
continue to send vessels to Japan. He seized this opportunity,
however, to inform the emperor that a number of Japanese residents in
the Philippines were fomenting revolt and disturbing the peace. In
answer to the latter complaint, Iyeyasu sent the governor a copy of
the severe laws applied to criminals in Japan, directing him to apply
these laws in punishing the seditious Japanese in the Philippines. He
ends with the assurance that the friars in Japan were being treated
with sympathy and good will. Considering that, in 1597, twenty-six
Christians and foreign friars, among them a native of Mexico, San
Felipe de Jesús, were crucified at Nagasaki, the imperial assurances
that he viewed the friars with benevolence and good will must have
been extremely welcome to Governor Vivero.
Three months subsequently, Hidedata, who vied with his father in
liberality and affability, renewed the privilege granted to Spanish
vessels to enter all Japanese ports indiscriminately, and sent their
captains copies of an official permission, dated November 2, 1609,
which reads as follows:--
“The vessels sailing from Luzon to New Spain may freely enter
all ports in Japan and take shelter therein in stormy weather.”
In this same year a strange combination of circumstances occurred,
which afforded the Japanese rulers an unexpected opportunity not
only of demonstrating their good will towards the Spaniards, but
of giving a proof of their good faith and generosity. Don Rodrigo
de Vivero, the retiring governor of the Philippines, sailed from
Luzon for New Spain on the 25th of July, in a vessel named the “San
Francisco,” escorted by two galleons. Overtaken by a storm, the “San
Francisco” and one of the galleons were wrecked on the shores of
Japan. As soon as the Japanese learned that the ship-wrecked crews
were Spaniards, and that among them was the former friendly governor
of the Philippines, they hastened to offer them shelter and food.
Vivero dispatched two messengers to the Japanese court to inform the
emperor and the shogun of his misfortunes. Whereupon they not only
invited him and his companions to the capital, but with spontaneous
liberality promised a restitution of all the merchandise, etc., which
could be saved from both wrecks. Iyeyasu generously offered to part
with one of the best vessels, which had been constructed for him
by William Adams, and likewise to lend him four thousand ducats,
with which to man and provision the ship, which was named “San
Buenaventura.” Vivero was also loaded with presents for the King of
Spain and Viceroy of Mexico, and was requested to exert his influence
towards the sending of a Spanish ambassador to Japan.
It appears that Vivero took advantage of his sojourn in Japan to
prejudice the Japanese rulers against the Portuguese, who had
hitherto enjoyed the sole privilege of exporting gold from Japan.
He likewise attempted to have this privilege transferred to the
Spaniards.
An interesting fact connected with this visit, and to which I will
revert, is that Iyeyasu requested that as many as fifty expert miners
be sent to Japan from Mexico in order to teach the Japanese the most
advantageous methods of working their gold mines, the principal one
of which was situated in the Island of Sado.
Governor Vivero, having consented to take with him to New Spain a
certain number of Japanese merchants, so that they might learn the
way, and also study commercial conditions, stipulated that the price
of the vessel ceded to him might be payable in Spanish merchandise.
On the first of August, 1610, after having enjoyed Japanese
hospitality for over a year, Vivero and his countrymen embarked for
New Spain with twenty-three Japanese merchants, who were under the
leadership of two noblemen named Tanaka Shosake and Shuya Ryusai.
In Mexico City, where they arrived towards the end of the year, the
Japanese were presented by Vivero to the viceroy, Don Luis de Velasco
the Second, who received them well and stood sponsor at the baptism
of at least one of the two Japanese noblemen, who returned to Japan
bearing the Christian name Francisco and the viceroy’s family name,
Velasco.
The singularly noble conduct of the Japanese towards the ship-wrecked
sailors at a time when all nations accepted the principle of “_jus
littoris_” could but make a particularly deep impression upon the
viceroy, who in the year 1600, for instance, had granted a concession
to the inhabitants of the coast of the Gulf of Mexico, which legally
authorized them to appropriate all ship-wrecked goods. Moved by
gratitude, or as Father Caro prefers to state, by his ardent desire
for the aggrandizement of New Spain, the viceroy determined to
exert a prerogative usually confined to sovereigns, and to send an
ambassador to Japan, entrusted with a letter in which he expressed
to the Japanese rulers his gratitude and appreciation of the great
charity and liberality towards his ship-wrecked countrymen.
Mexican historians have differed as to the name of the ambassador
appointed, but an original document preserved in the archives of
the Indies proves, beyond a doubt, that it was General Sebastian
Viscaino, who in this document is twice mentioned as being a son of
the viceroy.[1]