Michael Cooper recalls how Rodrigo de Vivero y Velasco, a Spanish administrator, composed an excellent account of Japan and its rulers after his unintended visit.
Europeans first reached Japan in 1543 and, until their final expulsion in 1639, they sent back a good deal of fascinating information about the remote island kingdom. Many of these accounts were written by Jesuit missionaries; and for the most part they are contained piecemeal in their letters to Europe.
A notable exception is to be found in the narrative of Don Rodrigo de Vivero y Velasco, an observant layman and experienced administrator.
After an unscheduled stay of ten months in Japan in 1609-10, Vivero wrote a concise report of his experience, and as an honoured guest of the Japanese authorities, he was able to include a personal account of his audiences with the de facto ruler, Tokugawa Ieyasu, and his son Hidetada.
Vivero was born in Mexico of noble Spanish parentage in 1564; but, while still a boy, he went to Spain and served as a page to the wife of Philip II. Returning to Mexico, he took part in various campaigns, and was made Governor of Nueva Vizcaya, north-east Mexico, in 1599. In this capacity he personally led a military expedition against the local Indians and helped to extend Spanish rule.
When Don Pedro Bravo de Acuna, seventh governor of the Philippines, suddenly died in Manila in June 1606, Vivero was nominated by his uncle, Don Luis de Velasco, Viceroy of Mexico, as interim administrator of the islands until a permanent governor could be appointed. Vivero sailed to the Philippines to take up his temporary appointment and reached Cavite, in the Bay of Manila, on June 13th, 1608.
The post was hardly a sinecure. As Vivero wrote to Philip III, there were only 1,800 men under his command, and the natives in the southern islands were both restless and aggressive. The hostile Dutch were also prowling around the islands in their ships and posed another danger to Spanish control. The acting governor also had to deal with financial problems as government expenditure in the Philippines amounted to more than twice its income.
And finally, in 1606 and again in 1607, there had been disturbances among the 1,500 Japanese living in and around Manila, and on the latter occasion deaths and injuries had resulted from the rioting. Whether out of compassion or expediency, Vivero released some two hundred Japanese from prison and paid their passage back to Japan - an act that was to stand him in good stead in the near future.
In the spring of 1609 Don Juan de Silva was appointed the new governor and, with his temporary assignment completed, Vivero was free to return to Mexico. Three ships sailed from the Philippines in the summer of that year - San Antonio, San Francisco, and the small Santa Ana - but only the first-named was to reach Mexico safely. Vivero embarked on the San Francisco, a galleon of more than a thousand tons, on July 25th, but scarcely had the ship left Philippine waters than it ran into a succession of storms and gales.
Eyewitness accounts provide harrowing descriptions of the ordeal: the decks were pounded by giant waves, men were swept overboard, and thirty men straining at the tiller were not able to keep the great ship on course. Crew and passengers alike promised reform of life and repentance if their lives were spared; the captain was so shaken by the experience that in the following year he gave up his profession and entered a seminary in Mexico.
Finally, on September 30th, ‘the feast of the glorious St Jerome’, the San Francisco ran aground at 35° N. and broke up on the rocks. Some sixty men were drowned, but about three hundred, including Vivero, managed to swim or float ashore. It was only when the shivering and drenched survivors met some peasants on the beach that they learnt that they had been washed up on the east coast of Japan, near a small village called Iwawada, forty leagues from Edo, present-day Tokyo.
Although saved from the storm at sea, the survivors still had to face some danger on land; for the sudden arrival of so many bedraggled foreigners was viewed with alarm and suspicion by the villagers. On hearing the news, the local lord, Honda Tadatomo, who resided at Otaki some six leagues away, sent orders that the uninvited visitors were to be provided with food and clothing, but should not be allowed to leave the village.
Three or four days later, Honda arrived in person, accompanied by a retinue of three hundred attendants, and greeted the former governor of the Philippines with every sign of respect. But he remained at a loss to know how to handle the situation until instructions had been received from the central government.
So two of the Spaniards were allowed to set off for Suruga, present-day Shizuoka, where the de facto ruler of Japan, Tokugawa Ieyasu, was living in nominal retirement; their route took them through Edo, the seat of the government of Ieyasu’s son, Hidetada, the shogun or military ruler of the country. Within a month the messengers returned with various officials, including the Englishman Will Adams.
Adams had also been cast up in Japan as long ago as 1600 and, in the meantime, had become the trusted friend and adviser of Ieyasu, for whom he built two Western-style ships. The Englishman carried the good news that Vivero could leave Iwawada and proceed on his way to visit Ieyasu.
The ex-governor’s first stop was at Otaki, where he was lavishly entertained by Honda in his castle. Vivero admired the fortress, which he judged with his experienced eye to be almost impregnable; he was also deeply impressed by the armoury, which he deemed more suitable for a king than for an individual lord. But he was to see far more impressive castles during his stay in Japan; and, on his arrival in Edo four days later, his official welcome began.
An enormous crowd gathered in the city streets to see his entry; and Hidetada’s chief counsellor, Honda Masanobu, was obliged to post guards around Vivero’s lodgings to keep out the host of inquisitive visitors. Two days later, the Spaniard was invited to pay a formal visit on the shogun; and, if the fortress at Otaki had impressed Vivero, the mighty Edo Castle, built only a few years previously, took the Spaniard’s breath away:
It is not easy to describe the grandeur that I saw there, both as regards the material structure of the royal house and buildings, and also the multitude of courtiers and soldiers who thronged the palace that day. Without any doubt there were more than 20,000 persons there between the first gate and the prince’s chamber, and they were not visitors but paid servants employed in diverse offices in the palace.
The first and principal wall is made up of huge square blocks of hewn stone, without mortar or any other mixture but simply set in the wall. Below this wall there is a moat through which flows a river, and the biggest drawbridge I have ever seen. The gates are very strong, and when they opened them for me, I saw two ranks of soldiers; as far as I could judge they numbered more than a thousand men.
After passing through more gates, viewing the stables and inspecting the armoury, which had ‘enough weapons to equip 100,000 men’, Vivero passed into the palace and took note of the lavish decoration and the gold-leaf paintings covering both walls and ceilings. The further he penetrated into the building, the more splendid became the decoration. As he passed from one chamber to the next, court officials came forward to welcome him and conduct him to the presence of the shogun, Hidetada:
The Prince awaited me in a large hall, in the middle of which there were three steps. He was seated on a square cloth, which was like a carpet of red velvet embroidered with gold. He was wearing two green and yellow robes, called kimono, over which he carried at his waist a sword and dagger, which they call katana. He wore nothing on his head, except the coloured ribbons with which his hair was braided. He was a man of about 35 years of age, swarthy but good-looking and well built.
He told me to cover my head and then smiled, saying to the interpreters that for all he had desired to meet and know me, it grieved him to think that I should be sad over my loss. Men of position, he continued, should not grieve over enterprises which had turned out badly; such things were not their fault and I should therefore rejoice, for he would grant me everything I desired while in his kingdom. I thanked him for his kindness and answered him as best I could.
After receiving from the ruler a gift of six Japanese robes and two swords, Vivero withdrew from the chamber and was then escorted with much ceremony back to his lodgings. Being a practical man, he wished to leave immediately for Suruga, forty leagues away, to pay his respects to Ieyasu.
But Hidetada insisted that he remain for four more days, so that word could be sent ahead to his father, and adequate preparation be made for his visit. This delay allowed Vivero to make several sight-seeing tours of Edo, with the result that he was able to leave in writing an excellent description of the city:
There is as much to see in the streets of this city as there is to consider in its administration, for the latter is comparable with Roman government. There are but few streets better than others for all are alike in evenness and size, and they are far broader, longer and straighter than the streets of Spain. They are kept so clean that you might well think that nobody ever walks along them.
The houses are wooden and some, but not all, have two stories. Even though our houses look better from without, the interior of these houses is far more beautiful. The houses are completely separate, one from the other, and each has a porchway.
The people live in particular streets according to their trade and station; one street, for example, is reserved for carpenters and men of another trade will not live there. There are special districts and streets with shops selling game, such as partridge, geese, wild duck, cranes, hens and an abundance of every kind of bird. In another street there may be found rabbits, hares, wild boars and deer without number.
Another place is called the Fish Market and I was taken to see this because of its special interest, for here they sell every kind of salt and freshwater fish you could desire—dried, salted and fresh. And many live fish are kept in tubs full of water so that you can buy just what you want.
The nobles and people of quality live in streets and districts quite different from the rest of the town and no commoner or person of the lower classes mixes with them. This may easily be seen by the armorial bearings which only the gentry have painted and gilded above the gates of their houses.
Vivero then set out for Suruga along the great Tokaido (or Eastern Coastal Route) highway. During the five-day journey he was impressed by the dense population, observing that not a quarter of a league of his route remained unpopulated. Yet despite this immense number of people living so close together, the country was excellently administered, and law and order were strictly enforced.
When one of the Spaniards complained to the authorities that he had been robbed of a small sum of money, the Japanese culprit was arrested and within three hours was sentenced to death. Aghast at this severe punishment, Vivero personally pleaded with the local magistrate for the man’s life.
At this, the official ‘began to wring his hands and look very upset. He explained that the laws and regulations were so strict that even if the Emperor’s eldest son had come to make the same request, he would not be able to comply’. The magistrate added that officials themselves were under pain of death to see that the law was carried out.
The usual crowd was at hand to welcome Vivero at Suruga, a city of 120,000 inhabitants; and on the following day Ieyasu sent servants and gifts to make the Spaniard’s stay as comfortable as possible. Thanks to the favour shown to him by the all-powerful Tokugawa family, Vivero was overwhelmed with kindness and entertainment wherever he went. Such was the hospitality extended to him that he noted that, if only the Japanese believed in God and were subjects of the Spanish King, he would gladly exchange his own country for Japan.
After a week, Ieyasu’s chief counsellor, Honda Masazumi, the son of Hidetada’s adviser, presented himself at Vivero’s lodgings and enquired when he wished to visit the ruler. Vivero replied courteously that this was not a matter for him to decide; and after some discussion and polite conversation the audience was set for 2.00 p.m. on the following day.
Once more Vivero was taken aback by the grandeur and might of Ieyasu’s castle, where, he remarked, there were even more soldiers and weapons than in Edo Castle. Again, as he passed through sumptuously decorated chambers, he was welcomed by high-ranking courtiers until he finally reached an ornate antechamber. There he was joined by Honda, who discussed the final arrangements.
Vivero announced at this point that he could be received in his private capacity, in which case he would not insist on any special protocol. If he were to be received as a servant of Philip III, ‘the most powerful and greatest monarch in the world and ruler of so many ample possessions in the New World’, as he explained to Honda, then certain formalities would have to be observed.
If we may believe Vivero’s account, Honda clutched his brow on hearing this and disappeared for fifteen minutes to discuss this latest development with Ieyasu. He eventually returned and assured the visitor that all due ceremony would be observed in the audience. Thereupon Vivero was ushered into the presence of Tokugawa Ieyasu, the most powerful man in Japan and founder of the dynasty that was to govern the country until the 1860s.
Vivero noticed that twenty courtiers were kneeling in the audience chamber, ready to do Ieyasu’s slightest will. ‘All of them wore long pantaloons which trailed two spans behind them on the floor, so that it was quite impossible to see their feet.’ He then describes Ieyasu, whom he styles ‘Emperor’:
The Emperor was seated on a chair covered with blue velvet and exactly the same kind of seat had been provided for me about two yards to his left. He wore a blue satin robe with many silver stars and half-moons, and he carried a sword girded at his waist. His hair was plaited and tied with coloured ribbons, and he wore neither hat nor anything else on his head. He is an old man of 70 years of age and of average build; he is very stout and has a venerable and pleasing countenance, and he is not so swarthy as the Prince.
The audience was quite short, and began with a period of silence lasting about three Credos. Then Ieyasu and his visitor carried on polite conversation through interpreters, with the ruler offering his sympathy for the hardships suffered on account of the shipwreck. The Spaniard tactfully replied that the mere sight of such a mighty ruler amply compensated him for the loss at sea. After some more formal exchanges, Vivero withdrew from the chamber, but not before he witnessed a visiting baron paying homage to the former shogun:
There entered one of the greatest nobles of Japan, whose high rank was evident from the gifts he brought - bars of silver and gold, silk robes and other things, all of which must have been worth more than 20,000 ducats. All of this was first of all placed on some tables, but I do not believe the Emperor even looked at it.
Then at over a hundred paces from where His Highness was seated, this lord prostrated himself, bowing his head so low that it looked as if he wanted to kiss the ground. Nobody said a word to him nor did he raise his eyes towards the Emperor on entering or leaving. Finally he turned and withdrew with his large retinue, which, according to some of my servants, numbered more than three thousand men.
It is more than likely that this last episode was arranged to offset Vivero’s boasting of the might and wealth of the Spanish King; for, although Vivero was an intelligent and sympathetic visitor, he was very much a hidalgo and spared no effort to advance his country’s interests. Later, he visited Kyoto and the grandeur of the great city filled him with astonishment and admiration; ‘but I did not let them see this lest they might think that Spain has nothing comparable’.
At one point in his conversations with Vivero, Honda Masazumi mildly voiced two criticisms of the Spaniards who had visited Ieyasu’s court; he alleged that he was merely repeating remarks made by Ieyasu; but this may, in fact, have been a polite way of expressing his own feelings.
Honda observed that the Spaniards were arrogant and haughty, and that, unlike the Japanese who had been wearing the same style of dress for more than a thousand years, the Spaniards showed their fickleness and inconstancy by changing their clothing styles every two years. The second criticism was not perhaps meant to be taken too seriously; but Vivero had difficulty in answering the first complaint, explaining somewhat lamely that what appeared to be Spanish pride and presumption was merely high-spiritedness and valour.
Honda may well have made this criticism following Vivero’s visit to the official's palatial residence on the day after the audience with Ieyasu. After suitable greetings and toasts had been exchanged, Vivero handed the official a three-clause petition written in Japanese, and asked that it be forwarded to Ieyasu for his consideration. In this document Vivero petitioned the ruler to favour the Christian missionaries working in Japan, to foster friendship with Spain, and to break off relations with the Dutch, who, he averred, were nothing but rogues and pirates.
At ten o’clock the following morning, Honda returned with Ieyasu’s answer. Ieyasu had accepted the first two requests (although nothing much came of either petition), but with much flowery language he had declined the third clause, although politely thanking Vivero for having kindly let him know the truth about the villainous Dutch.
One can only admire the nerve of Vivero, a shipwrecked and uninvited guest with no official status, in making such a request concerning the Dutch in the first place. But the Spaniard obviously had his country’s interests very much at heart, both in the political and commercial spheres. When Honda announced that Ieyasu would like to have fifty skilled miners from Mexico to increase the low yield of his silver mines, Vivero answered that, with the agreement of Philip III, such an arrangement might be possible.
But he then went on to spell out on his own initiative a condition that was most favourable to his own countrymen - half the yield was to be given to these miners, while the remaining half was to be divided equally between Japan and Spain: Once more Honda’s renowned patience must have been severely taxed.
In addition to various gifts, Ieyasu gave further evidence of his friendship by offering Vivero one of the ships built by Will Adams so that the shipwrecked Spaniards could return to Mexico. But Vivero had received news that the Santa Ana had fetched up on September 22nd at Usuki, on the north-east coast of Kyushu, the southernmost of the four main islands of Japan.
He therefore expressed his wish to return on the Santa Ana if it were possible, suggesting that he should go to Usuki to inspect the vessel; if the small ship was not seaworthy, then he would gladly accept Ieyasu’s offer of transport.
Vivero’s route to Usuki led him through Kyoto, the ancient capital. He was told that about a million people lived in and around the city; and he rightly presumed that Kyoto was the most populous city in the world. He took the opportunity of visiting various temples in the capital, and has left a long description of the temple in which the former ruler and Ieyasu’s predecessor, Toyotomi Hideyoshi, was enshrined.
Vivero’s conscience would not allow him to show any reverence in the shrine, although his guides prostrated themselves before the sanctuary. But the visitor was impressed by the silence and reverence of the Japanese; and he was honest enough to admit that the same devotion was seldom to be seen in the Christian churches in Mexico.
Before continuing his journey, Vivero went to inspect the Daibutsu, the colossal statue of Buddha, which he thought might well be included among the seven wonders of the world. At a loss how to convey some idea of the statue’s enormous size, he eventually hit upon an ingenious method:
The statue is made entirely of bronze and is so singularly tall that however extravagantly it might be praised (and they certainly extolled it) it was quite impossible to visualize what I eventually saw. Wondering how I could describe it when I returned home, I told a servant belonging to the great nobles who were accompanying me to climb up and measure the thumb of the idol’s right hand. So in the presence of about thirty of us, the fellow clambered up and tried to encircle the thumb with both his arms; but however much he stretched, he was unable to make his hands meet around the thumb by about two spans. This will give some idea of the size of the idol. But its proportions are no less admirable for it is one of the most perfectly fashioned things that I have ever seen.
While in Kyoto, Vivero was unable to obtain an audience with the ‘Dairi’, or true Emperor of Japan, whose power had been whittled away during the centuries, and whose office consisted mostly of religious and ceremonial functions. In his subsequent report Vivero correctly pointed out that this obscure figure living in Kyoto was, in fact, the legitimate ruler of Japan and that his power had been usurped by the military barons. Devoted monarchist that he was, Vivero went on to express his indignation at this state of affairs.
Although Vivero undoubtedly received a good deal of information from the resident Christian missionaries, he shows in this and other remarks that he was a shrewd and alert observer. He also records knowledgeable information about Japanese mythological history, administration, commerce, climate, the practice of harakiri, and a host of other topics which would have escaped the attention of a less perceptive visitor.
On Christmas Eve he left Kyoto and travelled by river down to the port of Osaka, a city with a population of 200,000 inhabitants and, in Vivero’s opinion, the loveliest place in Japan. There he embarked for Kyushu and spent about two weeks on board ship - a lengthy period for a relatively short distance; but, as he explains, the ship followed the usual practice of Japanese coastal traffic and put into port every night.
On his reaching Usuki about January 10th, 1610, he quickly saw that the Santa Ana was not in a fit condition for the arduous trans-Pacific voyage back to Mexico, and so he retraced his steps and returned to Suruga.
There Ieyasu renewed his offer of Adams’ ship, together with a loan of 4,000 ducats to cover the expenses of the voyage. Vivero gratefully accepted this bounty and then proceeded back to Edo, where he received further gifts from Hidetada as well as a letter addressed to Philip III. Renamed the San Buenaventura, Adams’ ship set sail for Mexico on August 1st, 1610.
On board were Vivero and his companions, as well as a group of Japanese traders, headed by the Kyoto merchant Tanaka Shosuke, who planned to promote trade between Japan and Mexico. The ship reached its destination on October 27th after a prosperous and uneventful voyage. In accordance with the agreement, Sebastian Vizcaino returned the ship in the following year and was also able to make a tour of inspection around Japan.
Hidetada’s letter was eventually delivered to the Spanish court, and Philip III wrote a reply from the Escorial on June 20th, 1613, thanking the Japanese for their kindness to his shipwrecked subjects and pledging renewed Spanish friendship. As for Vivero, he went on to become Governor of Panama in 1620 and received an impressive list of decorations and honours for his services to the Crown.
He is said to have died in 1636 at the age of about seventy-two years. But, however illustrious were Vivero’s services to the Crown in the Philippines and Central America, his unscheduled visit to Japan and his subsequent report form the highlight of his career and have earned for him a prominent place in the records of early Japanese-Western relations.
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