Yasuke: In Search of the African Samurai

by Thomas Lockley

  Therefore, to avoid the danger from the Mori clan, Valignano and Yasuke took a slightly longer journey than normal, one that avoided the safety of a northern coast-hugging voyage that passed through Mori-controlled territory. They, instead, island-hopped through the central, rougher, but less threatened, waters.

  Fortunately, the Jesuits’ gratuity payment had bought a powerful and well-armed escort: Lord Murakami of Noshima. The most powerful of the pirate lords.

  Until recently, Murakami had been considered a virtual vassal of the Mori clan, but had lately been leaning more toward the rising power of Oda Nobunaga. This followed his fleet’s defeat, and near destruction, in 1579 by Nobunaga’s ironclad ships (vessels built by a competing pirate clan). Murakami, the consummate sailor, had read which way the winds were blowing. Escorting Valignano and Yasuke to his audience with Nobunaga was part of this shifting alliance.

  Described by Fróis as “the greatest pirate in all of Japan,” Murakami lived in “a grand fortress and possessed many retainers, holdings, and ships that continually fly across the waves.” He was so powerful that “on these coasts as well as the coastal regions of other kingdoms, all pay him annual tribute out of fear he will destroy them.”

  It was his team that would escort the Jesuits and Yasuke throughout the journey. Who but the most feared pirate in Japan to get them through pirate-infested waters?

  Chapter Seven

  Pirates and Choir Boys

  In early March, Valignano and Yasuke boarded a ship for Kyoto.

  They embarked from Ōtomo’s Utsuki capital and were glad to finally be escaping from Jezebel’s territory and the threat she posed. Every face in Bungo looked like a potential enemy and stepping onto a boat was, unexpectedly, proving a genuine relief.

  Their transport was no deep-sea Portuguese galleon, but a shallow-hulled coastal beauty, constructed specifically by Ōtomo for this route and task, to transport Valignano and his party to Nobunaga. A gift to the Jesuits, the barge was decked out in red-and-gold cloth with parasols and gazebo-like structures to protect Ōtomo’s guests from the elements. Autumn would bring the area typhoons severe enough to rip roofs from houses and sink boats, but it was only March and the sea was reasonably calm, though the sun could be severe and it often rained. Ōtomo had built the luxurious barge and also picked up the entire tab for the Jesuit’s protection and safe passage with pirate lord Murakami. Ōtomo was closely allied with the Murakami pirates, and had used their muscle regularly as a mercenary force when he needed seaborne attacks. Here, he engaged them only to see that his charge, Valignano, reached the port of Sakai, from where they’d continue to Kyoto, and the great Lord Nobunaga, by land.

  Ōtomo was also warily friendly with Nobunaga, largely because Nobunaga’s power had not yet reached his borders and so he needed Nobunaga’s friendship as a balance to the other major Kyushu powers—Ryūzōji and Ōtomo’s lifelong foe, the Satsuma clan to the south. The sumptuous barge was to remind Nobunaga that Ōtomo’s support for the Catholics was not only lip service, but something he would pay solid silver and gold for; an insinuation that the Jesuits were part of Japan’s future and, with all due respect, Nobunaga should join the club.

  Valignano and Yasuke traveled with three dozen fellow Jesuits and local Catholic representatives from the domains and missions of Kyushu. They boarded from a specially constructed dock, just below Ōtomo’s castle in shallow waters at the mouth of the Usuki River. A short distance out to sea, as the forested hills and steaming sulfur pools of Kyushu shrank and the island of Shikoku and its smaller Seto brethren grew, several ships appeared against the horizon.

  Murakami’s Noshima pirates approaching to escort them.

  Despite assurances of safe passage, and their weariness from worrying about Jezebel and her followers, the Jesuit party prepared again for the worst. Pirates were not to be trusted any more than witches, even if they were paid allies. Only five years earlier, these same men had been the allies of the Mori clan. What if the Mori had offered a better price than Ōtomo?

  Lord Murakami’s men proved a mixture of oarsmen and warriors. The sailors were dressed in rough-looking short kimonos, tied at the waist with hempen rope and were either barefoot or wearing rice-straw sandals; the warriors were slightly better dressed, some sporting items of armor and most wearing helmets of some sort, even if these only amounted to leather belts affixed with a steel strip and tied around the head. These men were obviously soldiers, but they were not rich enough to wear the ornate armor Yasuke had seen on the land-based warriors in Kyushu, and in a sea fight, armor would be quite the hindrance if you ended up in the water. Still, the sailors would be handy in a fight should the need arise.

  The accompanying ships carried a floating arsenal of weapons; small cannon, spears, grappling hooks and chains, polearm sickles (to counter the enemy’s grappling devices) and unstrung bows stowed in racks in the upper-deck cabin for easy access. They also had muskets and grenades; nasty little devils filled with shrapnel and explosives, launched, after the fuse had been lit, by spinning them around the head on a rope; these were kept somewhat safer in a locked storeroom. Their arsenal also included rocket launchers which shot clusters of fire arrows, a tactic recently learned from Chinese or Korean raids or allies, and not yet common in Japanese warfare.

  Murakami’s men had distinct flags to raise at the right moment when approaching associates and allies, so they could pass without hindrance. God willing, in just over a week, Yasuke’s party would arrive in Sakai.

  Valignano remained in state, working alone or in conversation with his colleagues, being briefed thoroughly on what he was seeing as they traveled. The opportunity for a double cross was high. Yet, the pirate sailors went about their business, largely ignoring their passengers, although happy to pass on the odd piece of maritime lore or even a joke. They were a hard lot, but the best at what they did, and they were used to foreign “guests,” such as Jesuits who traveled regularly between Kyushu and Kyoto.

  There were no sleeping facilities on the new Jesuit barge, as they stopped each night on a different island. There, they were put up in the best accommodations available—often small forts or pirate bases at strategic points along the way.

  Beside the extortionate tolls, the Sea Lords’ main industry was trade; providing and selling sea-derived products, foreign plunder and foods to landlubbers. In addition to fish and sea grasses such as kelp (essential for the ubiquitous Japanese soup stock), people who lived along this narrow and island-strewn sea also dived for pearls and coral. This job was done by the ama, or sea women, celebrated divers who harvested shellfish, pearls and coral for use in kitchens, medicine and jewelry. Yasuke had seen such work before in India, but the fact that the ama were all female and dove nude certainly added a new wrinkle. Ashore, when they stopped each night, he could see the ama more closely and noticed their teeth were rough from grasping shells as they rose from the sea depths, and blood-red eyes discolored from the high pressure of years of deep dives. Yasuke watched in wonder as, like mermaids, they submerged for five minutes at a time off rocks and moored boats, descending to great depths in the clear waters.

  As usual, the large Jesuit party had brought their own supplies with them for meals, but also relied on the locals they passed to supplement their meals. Their new hosts each night entertained them. This entailed modest portions of food, but copious amounts of rice wine, sake, toward the end of each meal, to which the Jesuits contributed their prized and highly exotic European wine. As it was customary for any gift brought by the guest to be cracked open and enjoyed by all present straightaway, they had a jolly time and, afterward, a good night’s sleep. The frolics likely did not extend to Yasuke, who’d have to remain alert for treachery; even paid pirates were still pirates.

  After eating his own evening meal—enjoyed while Valignano presided over the prayers or while waiting for Valignano to retire for the night—Yasuke could finally doze
just inside the door of the Visitor’s room. Whereas a normal person could easily fit within the standardized six-foot length of the long tatami mats, Yasuke’s great height meant his feet spilled beyond, onto a second mat. Each night, he slept to the gentle sound of the wind and waves against unseen shores, the hardworking villagers, fishermen and pirates having retired themselves after dinner, with the sunset.

  The exception to this quiet life was in the “grand fortress” which was one of the effective capitals of the Sea Lords’ domains, Noshima Island. In reality, a small, but easily defended pair of islands that Yasuke reached halfway through his voyage. The entire main island had been turned into a fortified stronghold, complete with walls which stretched to the beaches, numerous bastions and quays for the ships which docked there—like something out of a fairy tale—with high wooden walls that seemed to keep out the sea. It would take an audacious navy to even attempt an attack on the island fortress.

  They came ashore at a wooden landing where Lord Murakami himself welcomed them warmly to his base. Murakami was dressed as finely as any of the other powerful Japanese lords Yasuke had met in the past two years. He wore a shimmering robe of deep blue Chinese silk and a black cap of stiff cotton on his head.

  The climb up the steep island slopes to his small hall was a welcome stretch for Yasuke’s long legs. And, it turned out, Murakami had all the trappings and servants of a land-based aristocrat. Far from the harsh conditions experienced by his sea people, he lived in relative luxury, and was only too happy to show off his fine porcelain and lacquered ware, no doubt stolen for the most part. This night, his important guests, having politely admired their host’s treasures, were wined and dined late into the night as he regaled them with stories of various sea escapades and the provenance of his luxuriant possessions. (Mainly China, though he did not mention how, exactly, he’d come by them.)

  Out of respect to the Jesuits’ celibacy, the customary female entertainment had the night off.

  * * *

  The “Venice of Japan.” That’s what Europeans called Sakai, their final destination on this sea voyage. An attractive settlement of rivers, canals, mercantile spirit and international trade, and also a center of gun, sword and knife manufacture. It was a rich city with tentacles of commerce stretching far overseas, a city ruled, like Venice, by a merchant oligarchy. The Catholic mission there was the oldest in central Japan and perhaps the most successful. Several prominent Sakai families had already converted and made suitably large contributions to the Church. They were ecstatic about having the chance to host the Pope’s direct representative and receive Valignano’s blessings, however brief his stay was to be.

  Having survived the pirates, the Jesuit party stepped off the barge onto a first-rate stone dock, an arrival far removed from their simple beach landing of two years before in Kuchinotsu. Compared to other ports he’d seen, Yasuke found this one clearly well-to-do and well cared for by its citizens. Warehouses lined the docks and wealthy merchants’ compounds, and numerous vast temples, to spiritually safeguard the seafarers, formed the backdrop. Merchants and sailors did not have far to go to give thanks for the safe arrival of their ships and cargos.

  This time there were no Latin hymns, but a welcome committee of leading citizens and a large corps of warriors sent by the region’s primary Catholic lord, and one of Nobunaga’s most senior generals, Takayama Ukon.

  The dignitaries all knelt to kiss Valignano’s hand and there was much rejoicing at his safe arrival. Valignano then gave public blessings again. Takayama himself was not present, but sent word by a senior vassal that he looked forward to hosting them in his castle in a few days’ time.

  Map of Sakai in 1704. The sea, and docks, are at the bottom. East is at the top, and the burial mounds (Kofun) of past emperors are clearly shown.

  Courtesy of Sakai City Central Library.

  Afterward, they were escorted straight to the home of Konishi Ryusa, one of the Jesuits’ first converts in Sakai, and a wealthy international dealer in tea and foreign medicinal products such as ginseng and rhubarb. The Konishi compound was large and comfortable, a most suitable place to recover from the trials of the sea journey. But Valignano could not be idle. The region’s Catholics dignitaries had gathered to hear a private mass in the home of this generous magnate and were not to be denied. The crowd of wealthy Catholics listened, kneeling on tatami mats in the audience hall, in awed and ecstatic reverence as the Pope’s personal Visitor blessed them and led them all in Latin prayer. Some of the congregation muttered the wording, pretending to follow along, but plenty among them could speak the true words. The Jesuit missionaries had been busy in these parts for years and the high-class congregants were well educated in Catholic ritual.

  This area of the country was thought to be far less threatening than Kyushu had been, but the troops who’d met them on the dockside were still set on watches around the vast Konishi compound. They were, after all, in territory closer to both the mercenary ninja and Buddhist warrior monks, even if both groups had largely been quelled by Nobunaga. In either case, it took only a few, or even one, to end a life.

  After recovering overnight, the growing Jesuit entourage was to head to Osaka, the next stop on their journey of several days to meet Nobunaga. The plan was to depart Sakai in a distinguished procession to convey the power and glory of Christ to as much of this metropolitan region of Japan as possible. It was also Easter week, and processions and finest apparel were hallmarks of this holiest of celebrations.

  Things did not quite go according to plan.

  The party leaving Sakai included thirty-five packhorses, forty baggage carriers and another forty local Jesuits and their followers. The priests, brothers and Japanese notables from Sakai, Bungo, Arima, Ōmura and Nagasaki who’d accompanied Valignano on his journey as a demonstration of their numbers and power, were all on horseback. They were dressed for the ride in drab clothing, but nevertheless, had still made an effort to stand out. Large crucifixes were displayed prominently on chains which hung around their necks and colorful devotional banners flew high. Valignano himself led the procession bearing a holy relic: an avowed splinter from Christ’s cross encased in a jeweled casket wrapped up for safekeeping for the journey.

  The narrow streets of Sakai that the Jesuit procession struggled through. This photograph is from the early twentieth century, but besides the electricity pylons, would probably not have looked much different in Yasuke’s day.

  Courtesy of Sakai City Central Library.

  This procession was, as intended, one of the most peculiar and arresting things the locals had ever seen. In this war-ravaged age of disunity, Valignano’s procession was an extreme spectacle and novelty for those they passed. Many of the participants were of racial types never, or rarely, seen before. There was Yasuke, of course, but also a number of pale Europeans and some Indo-Portuguese men too. Even some Japanese marchers wore strange-looking European robes and contributed to the outlandish effect. It’s no wonder people of all classes converged from miles around to get a peek at this once-in-a-lifetime experience. Hundreds crammed the narrow streets to see Valignano and his traveling Catholic show. The streets between Konishi’s compound, near the docks, and the outskirts of town were crowded with onlookers, gawking and pointing, and the dignified procession soon became the center of a manic crowd.

  Yasuke walked directly behind Valignano, and was meant to add to the awe as much as any relic in the Jesuit’s possession. The decorated spear, the powerful, muscled arms. Here, in Sakai, he was probably the first African person they’d ever seen, and the locals were astonished.

  A commercial city, Sakai’s citizens had probably seen darker-skinned men—the occasional tanned Portuguese sailors, Indians perhaps—but, in living memory, no African man such as Yasuke. The combination of his size and shade fascinated the crowd; the women were gasping and grabbing at him as he passed, the men pointing at
his muscles and comparing them with their own.

  Had Valignano been planning to use him thus from the very beginning? Had Yasuke been selected by Valignano in India, knowing how the Japanese would respond? Or, was it merely an added bonus that the Visitor realized only after arriving in Japan? Perhaps the reaction to Yasuke took the Jesuit completely by surprise as they struggled to leave Sakai. In either case, Yasuke’s appearance was a hit and the crowds clamored to get a sight of him.

  Lord Takayama’s men escorted the Jesuit procession. Along the way, more than a hundred of his soldiers, armed with swords and spears, lined the streets, attempting to control the growing, boisterous crowd. It was not enough.

  In a world before photographs, television and the internet, people were still amazed at seeing something new for the first time and unapologetic about its thrill. Scraps and pushing broke out in the crowd straining to get their eyeful. People shouted out in glee and fell backward through paper and lattice windows into the houses and shops which lined the main thoroughfare out of the city. Guards were taunted and jostled. A shop collapsed when too many people crowded onto its roof for a better look.

  “But nobody complained,” claimed Fróis later; the sight of Yasuke, the African giant, made up for everything. The spectators could not get enough of him.

  Mounted warriors from the head of the procession turned back to help the others through, half pulling and half pushing Valignano’s horse through the press of people. But, again, Valignano was not the problem. The crowd wanted to see Yasuke. They needed to see Yasuke. And as soon as those on horseback were able to clear a space, the mob filled in behind them, surrounding and cutting off Yasuke and the other seventy porters and attendants who remained unmounted. Shouts and kicks and threats were to no avail. Valignano could either leave behind more than half his party—including all his gifts and supplies—or take three days to leave the city.