The conflicts between Arima and Ōmura had calmed somewhat, as both lords—despite support from the Jesuits—had largely capitulated, kowtowing to Ryūzōji’s overwhelming force. This meant a fragile peace, but as yet, Nagasaki remained unthreatened. Perhaps due to its shiny new defenses. Its population swelled further with refugees from the persecution that the anti-Catholic Ryūzōji Takanobu wrought, but despite his avid hatred of the Jesuits, Ryūzōji had agreed to a peace with Arima and seemed to be less of a threat to Nagasaki itself. He was biding his time.
Yasuke and Valignano remained in Nagasaki until September of 1580, watching the war orphans and dispossessed families tramp through the city gates to be looked after in Jesuit poorhouses or adopted into local families. It was a heart-wrenching sight, some of them were barely clothed and all looked skeletal. If they had been poor before, they had nothing except their faith now. A testament to the effectiveness and passion of Jesuit missionary activity; these second-and third-generation converts sincerely professed their belief in Christ and were willing to lose the little they possessed to preserve it.
Valignano had successfully solidified the Catholic hold on the various regions of western Kyushu which they’d visited. His inspection of Japan had been, thus far, an unmitigated success. Nagasaki—once a minor Japanese fishing village—was now firmly in the hands of the Church, a thriving base from which to claim an entire empire for Christ. Valignano and the Jesuits had successfully gathered another forty thousand converts under the wing of the Catholic Church, and planned to found four seminaries and numerous other institutions, and had placated and flattered several Japanese warlords to ensure better security for the Church moving forward. All for the greater glory of their God. Not bad work for only an estimated fifty-some Jesuits in Japan at this time.
This task completed, it was time to head to the other side of Kyushu to the home of Japan’s richest Catholic lord, Ōtomo Sōrin of Bungo. From there, supported by Ōtomo’s patronage, eventually they would head inland into the heart of the country, northeast toward Kyoto. The most important souls in the Japanese world waited there. The fiercest warlords, merchants with wealth beyond compare, and even the emperor himself. If they could be brought under the banners of Christ, then surely the rest of Japan would follow.
Each and every river punt, coastal barge, trail and step north or east was bringing Valignano, and Yasuke, ever closer to their greater destinies.
Chapter Six
The Witch of Bungo
Lord Ōtomo Sōrin was the most powerful and wealthiest of the Japanese Christian lords by far. As ruler of Bungo (now Oita Prefecture), he controlled almost half of Japan’s second largest island and commanded armies of up to fifty thousand men. His plush new residential palace in Utsuki had been, officially, constructed as a haven and fortress where he could pursue his new Christianity without being pressured to recant by his own people. However, Ōtomo’s actual reason for his pecuniary support of the Jesuits and his seemingly pious gilt hermitage was far from pure. He’d embraced Christ and moved from his domain’s capital, leaving his twenty-year-old son there to rule, primarily so he could divorce his wife of thirty-five years and marry his new, younger lover.
This ulterior motive had surprised no one as Ōtomo had never been the most righteous of rulers, or men. When younger, he’d predominantly been known as a prolific womanizer, taking for himself the most beautiful women in his domain and routinely exercising droit du seigneur. Even when married, he’d spent vast sums bringing the most famous and refined courtesans, female and male, in from Kyoto for legendary court debauchery that lasted for days. Still, his most notorious deed was to have a soldier, whose wife he desired, put in the front line of battle. (Clearly, a time-honored scheme of smitten and cold-blooded rulers throughout history.) After the man was predictably killed, Ōtomo toyed with the wife for some time, destroyed her reputation and then moved on to other women. His senior advisors and frustrated wife—who came from another powerful local family, the Nata—protested against him, but he would not mend his ways. This, coupled with what many of his vassals saw as his sacrilegious behavior in embracing a foreign god, nearly brought his domain to civil war as his warriors took sides and squared off.
When the Jesuits arrived, with their new God and interesting gadgets, Ōtomo saw a way to rid himself of his tedious wife and the burden of power at the same time, while still retaining independence and comfort in his choice of residence and romantic partner. The Jesuits also saw advantage for themselves and were happy to oblige. The baptism of the most powerful Japanese lord yet would indeed be a coup and they advised Ōtomo that if he and his lover were to both be baptized, then all would be legitimate; as his first wife was not Catholic, his original marriage was invalid in the eyes of God. Thus, both Ōtomo and his younger lover, known in the Jesuit records as Julia, were soon baptized and the couple moved to Utsuki to live happily ever after.
Ōtomo’s estranged wife, alas, had not taken the divorce well. Upon the news, she shaved her head, tried to kill herself, was kept on suicide watch and then routinely threatened to take her daughters out into the wilderness to die as punishment to Ōtomo. Far worse—as far as the Jesuits were concerned—she’d remained behind in the old capital, and wielded enormous influence over her son and his rule; influence she was using specifically to destroy the Catholics.
Ōtomo’s first wife’s Japanese name is lost to history, this despite her great power and important family ties (which reveals something of how history is written). The Jesuits simply labeled her “Jezebel the Witch,” and for now, that is the only name we are left with. She had many followers through her family connections, but also—more damning in the eyes of the Europeans—enjoyed spiritual and political legitimacy as one of the high priestesses of the age-old Japanese god of war, Hachiman. As such, she was a well-known and celebrated devotee of ancient and esoteric magical rituals. She resented the Jesuits’ challenge to both her spiritual and temporal power over the people of the domain and thwarted their efforts in the area incessantly. She’d already orchestrated several coup attempts against her husband and his new Christian friends, and routinely leaked rumors of plans to kill every Christian priest and brother in Bungo. When the Jesuits tried to take their mission to outlying villages, Jezebel sent messengers and hundreds of letters warning the locals to return to the old gods or face terrible consequences. Valignano and the other Jesuits were convinced she worked directly for Ba’al, the false and demonic pagan god, and Fróis wrote that the very Devil himself “had deeply taken hold of her mind.”
With Valignano’s relocation to Utsuki, a bigger and grander city than any they’d yet stayed at in Kyushu, Yasuke was entering another troublesome security situation. This Jezebel woman and her allies had good reason to want Valignano dead. Ōtomo’s divorce was not recognized in Japanese law, and as far as most people were concerned, Jezebel was a deeply wronged woman with an unfaithful, work-shy cad for a husband. It was under his watch, a year ago, that the Bungo army of fifty thousand had been thrashed, the Catholic church burned by the Satsuma clan and the Jesuits had run for their lives.
Yasuke and the Jesuits needed to be on guard for both poison and rebellion. The threat of ninja assassins was, in this region, quite genuine. Such warriors were an ideal weapon for Jezebel to use: covert, lethal and deniable. If they remained undiscovered, she’d keep the moral high ground and do away with her troublesome husband and his new friends. Outright rebellion, political intrigue and family pressure had all failed. Perhaps the only option left was a swift and stealthy ninja strike. And her status as a high priestess and as a practitioner of magic meant she was ideally placed to ally herself with them. These assassins often disguised themselves as wandering esoteric priests, entertainers and magicians. For such people to associate with Jezebel would arouse no suspicion. Then all it would need would be an assassin’s bullet, poison administered to the open mouth of a sleeping victim by thread in the dead of nig
ht, or a blow dart fired by a “begging monk” in a busy street.
Justifying the Jesuits’ concerns, an unexplained fire broke out during their stay. Arson was suspected. The only house that burned down belonged to the married daughter of Ōtomo’s new Christian wife. The couple barely escaped and everything else was lost. In solace, Valignano gave the young bride a rosary and she cried with joy (at least according to the later Jesuit report).
Jezebel the Witch was blamed immediately, or at least her devotees were. Security was increased, though Ōtomo waved off all concerns, claiming his former wife was “only a woman.” (A comment which perhaps sums up Ōtomo’s character nicely.) The Jesuits were not convinced. She was quite clearly a force to be reckoned with, and there was no room for any surprises. Despite the threat of arson and “witches,” there were still three vital jobs which needed to be seen to in Bungo.
First on the list was the founding of the most ambitious seminary yet, one built in Utsuki, beneath the protective shadow of Lord Ōtomo’s castle and palatial residence, intended to attract students from throughout the Portuguese territories in Asia, as far away as India. It was to become the first truly “international school” in Japan. Of the first class of students, twelve were Japanese and eight were Portuguese. The curriculum was also more challenging than the seminary in Arima too, eventually including other European languages aside from Latin, philosophy and logic, as well as basic subjects such as liturgy, math and music. For several weeks, Valignano himself lectured at the school twice a day on Jesuit matters and morality—though to the Portuguese-speaking students only.
The second task was to organize a delegation of young Japanese noblemen for a pilgrimage to Europe. This was to be the next step in Valignano’s grand plan for a Catholic Japan. With Ōtomo, Ōmura and Arima (all now baptized Christians) picking up the bill, these handpicked Japanese teens would tour and astonish Europe with their sophistication and dedication to the faith. And, upon their return to Japan, they’d then be able to impress the glory of Europe upon the rest of their country.
Yasuke likely assumed he would follow where Valignano led, and journey with the delegation west to Lisbon, Madrid, Milan, Florence and Rome. Places he’d only heard or dreamed of, but lands the Europeans hearkened back to again and again. The continent was their home and Yasuke was curious, if only for its contrast with the worlds he knew. The bustle of mercantile, multicultural Lisbon, the beauty of the palaces and gardens of Florence, the churches of the Vatican, the slowly growing glory of St. Peter’s Basilica and the cosmopolitan finery of the papal court. As Valignano’s man, Yasuke had access to the palaces and corridors of power and would meet the mightiest players of Christendom. He knew also that Valignano would have no less need of protection in war-ridden Europe. The regular reports from Rome, while a few years out of date, made it clear all was not well. The Dutch provinces were engulfed in the flames of revolution; unruly Protestants in France had been massacred, but the survivors still engaged in sedition; heretic English pirates were raiding any Catholic ships they could find after the Pope had declared their witch queen, Elizabeth, “the pretended Queen of England and the servant of crime” and then ordered her subjects to defy her under pain of excommunication. If that were not enough, despite the major victory at the Battle of Lepanto, the Muslim Ottoman Empire still threatened the whole of the Mediterranean, and North African pirates were constantly raiding and slaving along Christian coasts from Greece to Ireland. Ships and harbors approaching Europe were not safe. Yasuke’s martial skills would be sorely needed.
The final task Valignano had to fulfill during his time in Utsuki was to fund and finalize a crucial, and decisive, trip within Japan. He needed to travel to Kyoto and appeal to the greatest power in the land, Oda Nobunaga. There, the Visitor would request formal permission to depart Japan and secure approval for his remaining colleagues to continue their missionary work. For the first time in nearly a century, there was a recognizable power in Kyoto who could almost be called a national leader, and obeisance to him was required. Nobunaga had, thus far, been more than tolerant of the Jesuits in Japan, but if Valignano could transform that tolerance into support or even conversion, all of Japan could be Catholic within a matter of years.
While Oda Nobunaga did not hold the title shogun—a position essentially meaning “military ruler” which he himself had abolished in 1573—the Japanese warlord now controlled the dominant center of the country and was making final moves toward pacifying, or as he called it “reunifying,” the rest. He ruled primarily from his castle in Azuchi, not far from Kyoto, the ancient capital and still home of the in-name-only “ruling” emperor. Azuchi was close enough to keep an eye on goings-on there, but far enough away to not become embroiled in imperial court shenanigans. For that, Nobunaga had also secured quarters in a temple called Honnō-ji, on the outskirts of Kyoto. There, he and Valignano were to finally meet.
But reaching Nobunaga was no simple undertaking. Traveling to Kyoto, or Azuchi, from the Kyushu coast was at least a two-week journey, three hundred miles away and inland toward the heart of Japan.
The most established and safest route was to travel along the Seto Inland Sea, a sprawling waterway that split the largest Japanese islands down the center, peppered within by some three thousand smaller islands. Alas, the islands and surrounding waters were entirely controlled by ruthless bands of pirates.
Each day, ships traversing the passage were seized and burned, their passengers held for ransoms, sold into slavery, raped or killed. Unless, of course, they’d paid the “courtesy fee,” in which case the pirates became the most hospitable of hosts and accompanied ships to ensure their safe arrival at the determined destination. Generous payment, with all its perils, afforded the best chance for safe passage. Alternative paths would take them by land and add months to their journey, crossing treacherous mountains and the territory of enemies of the Church. Not an option. It was pirates, or nothing.
* * *
The pirates, or Sea Lords, of the Seto Inland Sea were known and feared throughout Asia as far away as southern China and even modern-day Cambodia, well over two-thousand miles away. So much so, they’d harmfully influenced mainland Asian views of Japan. Many Chinese and Koreans assumed all Japanese behaved like pirates—violent, cruel, greedy and vulgar. (As if all medieval Europeans were judged solely by marauding Vikings.) Pirates had always been in these seas, but the breakdown in centralized political power during The Age of the Country at War meant there were no governmental forces powerful enough to control or suppress them. Coupled with weakness in the defense of the Chinese coastal provinces, whose riches they plundered, they became ever more powerful.
The Sea Lords—similar to the more traditional territorial lords found on land in that they were often hereditary and clan based—were ruthless in their practices and often desperate, a powerful combination. They had the reputation of being fearless in battle, sometimes fighting to the death against forces ten times their size rather than concede.
The disorganized Ming Chinese soldiers and officials, expected to defend their coast, often fled in dread fear of these eastern “demons,” leaving the unfortunate fisher folk and farmers to face the onslaughts alone. No wonder, then, that many of the maritime Chinese communities felt it better to make friends with these marauders than fight them, hosting their clandestine vessels and providing them with crucial intelligence on neighboring provinces. As the pirates grew bolder, they ventured as far as Thailand and met, among others, English and Dutch sailors who also shared tales of their fearsome reputation. Their multicultural crews—including renegade Chinese locals, and Portuguese, African and other Asian mercenaries—often initially posed as legitimate merchants. And, indeed, some of them were. But if trade was refused, or terms were unfavorable, they would turn pirate again in a flash, looting the nearest coast to make good their losses.
In Japanese waters, however, the pirates were somewhat less badly behaved, as long
as they were treated with the right degree of respect. While mainland Asia was typically offered no such protection, Japanese travelers and coastal communities could pay “tolls”—protection money—for security against “those other” nefarious, rival pirates. If the gratuity payments were not forthcoming, travelers, and coastal dwellers, faced an uncertain future.
When not transporting travelers and cargo for a “reasonable fee,” these same men and women often acted as mercenary navies for one land-based lord or another. Only a few years earlier, a Seto pirate clan had constructed—for Nobunaga, no less—several of the world’s first ironclad ships. These bore armor plating fastened across their hulls, and were loaded with small cannon and muskets. According to a Jesuit account, the ships were “the best and largest in Japan, being about the size of [Portuguese] royal carracks” which “shocked the eyes and ears of those who came to see them.” The pirate-built ships had devastated their enemies with ease.
* * *
Even with the required levies paid, Yasuke and the Jesuits would have to sail through hostile and treacherous waters.
The Mori clan, on the northern Seto coast (modern-day Yamaguchi) had expressly driven the Jesuits away in 1557, two decades earlier. Then, the Mori had taken control of the region from their former overlords and found themselves disgusted with the, in their view, sacrilegious behavior of the foreign missionaries. This usurpation had not been without pirate assistance and some of the Sea Lords remained allies with the Mori. And, the Mori—in continuous warfare with Nobunaga who coveted control over their lands for his “reunification” project—were keenly aware of the armaments the Jesuits could eventually supply to the ascending warlord. The Mori clan bristled at the prospect of greater contact between these unwashed, meddling foreigners and their powerful sworn enemy in the capital city.
Yasuke: In Search of the African Samurai Page 8