Chapter 2

A Scramble for Influence

Salvador Diaz moved stealthily toward the docks. Tonight, he hoped, he would finally escape from Taiwan. For four years he had been a prisoner of the Dutch—since 1622, when they had captured his junk and enslaved him and its other Chinese passengers. He had been luckier than the others, many of whom had died building Dutch fortresses. He could speak Portuguese and write Chinese, so the Dutch had used him as a translator. Gradually, he had gained their trust, becoming a confidant of the Dutch lieutenant governor, who had even revealed to Diaz that he was a closet Catholic, scandalous information in such a Protestant society. But Diaz, too, had secrets. He had been in league with pirates, feeding them information from within the Dutch headquarters: where and when Chinese junks would sail and what they carried. He had even collected protection money from rich Chinese merchants. Even more dangerous, he had carefully recorded notes about the Dutch colony in a little book, which he planned to show to Portuguese officials in Macao. If he made it out alive, that is.

His heartbeat quickened as he reached the small junk he had bought from a Chinese fisherman. He climbed aboard. A crew member untied the mooring rope, and the junk slipped into the bay.

Four days later it reached Macao, where Diaz's arrival caused a stir. The Portuguese were eager for details about their enemy's new colony and made Diaz tell his story many times. They were encouraged by his account. The Dutch had managed to build a fortress, located at a bay called Tayouan, on the southwestern coast of Taiwan, but the bay was shallow and made a poor harbor. More important, the Dutch faced opposition. The natives of the land were fierce "savages" [montesinhos]; Japanese and Chinese merchants were angry about Dutch tolls; and the land was full of pirates. (Diaz did not mention his own involvement with the pirates.) Moreover, the Dutch soldiers were, Diaz said, few, thinly spread, and frightened.1 The Dutch would not have an easy time if they hoped to make their colony as stable and prosperous as Macao.2

Diaz correctly assessed the key challenges facing the Dutch in Taiwan: aborigines, Japanese merchants, and pirates.3 Whereas the next chapter is about the company's relations with aboriginal villages, this one is about pirates and samurai, both of which contested company dominion on Taiwan. Pirates were the easier of the two challenges. To be sure, pirates interfered with trade and had close links to aboriginal villages such as Mattau, whose inhabitants had attacked Captain Ripon in 1623, and one pirate was even bold enough to attack the company's main fortress. But the company also found pirates useful. Indeed, it was through a pirate-turned-official that the company eventually achieved its goal of regular trade with China. As one Dutch governor wrote, if it were not for the pirates, Chinese officials would become arrogant [hoochmoedigh] and refuse to deal with the company.4

The greater threat came from Japanese merchants. As Diaz noted, Japanese had arrived on Taiwan before the Dutch, and they did not follow the company's new trading rules as Dutch officials would have liked. The Dutch knew they had to tread carefully because the company needed to preserve its trade privileges in Japan, source of the silver it used to buy Chinese silk. The two sides got along, albeit tensely, until tactless Dutch officials tried to forbid Japanese trade on Taiwan altogether. Japanese merchants responded by arranging for "ambassadors" from an aboriginal village to have an audience with the shogun of Japan, who might, the merchants hoped, be persuaded to claim Taiwan from the Dutch. The imbroglio that followed nearly cost the company its trading privileges in Japan. Indeed, things got so bad that in the early 1630s some Dutch officials considered abandoning Taiwan altogether, on the grounds that the colony was useless without the Japan trade. Fortunately for the Dutch, the shogun refused to take Taiwan. Indeed, on the contrary, he ended up decreeing that his subjects could no longer go abroad. This stroke of luck gave the Dutch a free hand on Taiwan.

The Bay of Tayouan

Before we meet the pirates and samurai, let us get acquainted with the company's base on Taiwan: the Bay of Tayouan (大員), near today's Tainan City. Although it gave Taiwan its modern name, the bay itself no longer exists. Over the centuries it has been filled in by silt from the rivers of the western plains. Today the remains of the Dutch fortress are far from the ocean.5 Fortunately our fugitive, Salvador Diaz, told Portuguese officials all about it, and his detailed description allows us to imagine the bay as it existed under early Dutch rule.

Diaz describes the bay as "a large cove penetrating inland more than two leagues from west to east." Its waters were shallow and filled with sandbars, making navigation difficult, especially for deep-drawing European ships. The seaward arm of the bay was a long, narrow peninsula, which stretched northward and then made an abrupt turn, pointing landward like a crooked finger. At the crook crouched a few low hills, and it was here that Chinese laborers built the Dutch fortress. Fort Zeelandia had "four square bulwarks which command [descobrem] the sea beyond as well as the bay and its entrance." The fortress, made of brick, was surrounded by stone-reinforced earthworks. Beneath it, at the entrance of the bay, was a village "of Chinese fishers, pirates [ladroes], and traders . . . in front of which the ships of the Chinese dock, bringing textiles, food, fish, and other things to sell."6

Between the fortress and the Chinese village stood a warehouse and lodge, surrounded by a bamboo stockade. Diaz himself had lived in the lodge, along with the Dutch governor and his aides. The warehouse was the focus of Dutch commercial operations, where silk, pepper, and other goods were weighed and stored. Before it lay a dock for Dutch ships to load and unload. Farther along the beach was a Japanese camp [bangasal] of little thatch houses before which swayed junks from Japan and China. The Japanese came to trade as they had done for years, but now the Dutch "want to make the Japanese and Chinese pay [a toll of 10 percent], which they do not want to do."7

Across the bay, on the mainland of Taiwan, the Dutch flag flew over another fort. "Here the Hollanders have a farm with cows and horses, which they brought from Japan, as well as goats and sheep. Next to this fort is a small settlement of Chinese pirates [ladroes] and fishermen."8 The coast beyond this settlement was "all wild, and one cannot disembark, except with small ships, since it is all too shallow." In the lush plains lived "an infinity of deer, which the Hollanders hunt on foot and on horse."9 Farther inland were thousands of "savages" [montesinhos] who lived in villages with no kings, "the most powerful one in each place making himself chief. They come to sell a few things and the Hollanders and Chinese give them cangans [colorful Indian textiles] in return."10

To the relief of Portuguese officials, Diaz noted that the Dutch soldiers were "short, miserable, and very dirty." He said that there were only 320 of them and that they were "spread thin among the settlements and ships."11 They had to guard against many dangers, such as the Chinese pirates who increasingly infested the seas of coastal China and who used Taiwan itself as a base. Yet the pirates offered opportunities as well as troubles, and they were not as chaotic as the storybook pirates of our imagination. Indeed, they were often quite well organized.

Pirates

When the Dutch arrived, the pirates of Taiwan appear to have been led by an enigmatic figure named Yan Siqi (顏思齊). According to an important (but dubious) source known as the Taiwan wai ji (臺灣外記), Yan had lived for a time as a tailor in Japan before coming to the realization that "life is as fleeting as the morning dew" and deciding to devote himself to piracy.12 The story told in this source reads like a martial-arts novel. Yan gathers a trusty band, whose members include Deep Mountain Monkey, skilled with guns and powder, and Iron Zhanghong, a forthright strongman. The men take an oath before heaven ("though we were born on different days, let us die on the same day"), accept Yan Siqi as leader of the alliance (盟主), and eventually establish a base on Taiwan from which to rove the seas. The story has elements of fancy, and some scholars have even suggested that Yan Siqi did not exist. Yet the name Yan Siqi (or his courtesy name Yan Zhenquan) does appear in other, more reliable Chinese sources, albeit without the picaresque details.13 Yan Siqi existed but remains mysterious.

We have more information about another pirate: Li Dan (李旦), whom Westerners called Captain China.14 Born near the city of Quanzhou in Fujian Province, Li Dan rose to prominence as an overseas trader, becoming "governor of the Chinas at Manila."15 After legal trouble with the Spanish, he went to Japan, where he became the "chosen captain cheefe commander of all the Chinas in Japon" and got rich trading with Southeast Asia and Taiwan.16 Elie Ripon met him in 1623 and witnessed the arrival in Taiwan of one of his junks, "loaded with all sorts of merchandise to trade with the Formosans, as he was accustomed to do, both deerskins and venison, which he took to Japan."17 Having chosen to live in Japan, Li Dan had, in Ripon's words, "alienated himself from his government" [s'était écarté de son gouvernement].18 But living with the enemy and smuggling were not his only crimes. Chinese texts refer to him as the "pirate Li Dan," and some scholars in Taiwan believe that he was an associate of Yan Siqi's, although the evidence is inconclusive.19 According to Ripon, Li Dan "conducted piracy wherever he could . . . taking everything he could capture," activities he carried out with his "more than fifty Chinese-style ships."20 Dutch sources show that Li Dan asked the company to sell him a few junks so that he could "rob the Chinese . . . in the name of the Dutch nation."21

Indeed, Li Dan worked with the Dutch East India Company. While Elie Ripon was fighting aborigines in Taiwan, the main Dutch force was stationed in the Penghu Islands in the middle of the Taiwan Strait. The Dutch hoped to establish their trading post there rather than in Taiwan, but Chinese officials had other ideas. They felt that Penghu, unlike Taiwan, was part of China, so in 1623 the governor of Fujian Province, Nan Juyi (南居益), sent Chinese troops to Penghu to attack the Dutch. The Dutch promptly recalled Ripon and his fellows from Taiwan, because "it is better to fortify one fortress well than to guard two poorly."22 Then both sides—Chinese and Dutch—asked Li Dan to act as an intermediary. Thanks to his negotiations, the Dutch agreed to withdraw from Penghu and move to Taiwan.23 Li Dan's mediation earned him a rapprochement with Chinese officials and an amnesty, but his cooperation with the Dutch was short-lived. In 1625, company officials learned that he had kept gifts they had entrusted him with giving to Chinese officials.24 They also learned that his men had tried pillaging junks coming to trade in Taiwan.25 Li Dan died in 1625, as did the mysterious Yan Siqi, but the company's pirate troubles were just beginning.

In his report to the Portuguese, Salvador Diaz said that there were two Chinese settlements on Taiwan, each of which was filled with pirates [ladroes]. He did not go into further detail, but he could have, because he was in cahoots with them. Shortly after his escape, the Dutch discovered that Diaz had been the pirates' informant, giving them inside information, such as where junks leaving Tayouan might best be captured. He also collected protection money. A Chinese merchant named Xu Xinsu (許心素), who was the company's most important link to the silk markets of southern China, complained to Dutch officials that he had paid 2,000 taels to Diaz to "protect" his junks against attack.26 Such protection money, known as "water taxes" (報水), had deep roots in the Taiwan Straits.27 Indeed, around the same time that Diaz's protection racket was discovered, the Dutch discovered that Li Dan's son, Li Guozhu (李國助), was also selling protection.28 His customers were Chinese fishermen. For 10 percent of their catch they could buy a signed document guaranteeing their safety from pirates.29 The discovery prompted the company itself to enter the protection business. They dispatched three war junks to patrol near a newly arrived fishing fleet of 120 junks. The company's fee was the same as the pirates': 10 percent of the catch.30 It was one of the first taxes the company levied in its new colony.

The discovery of these undercover pirates convinced company officials to keep closer tabs on Chinese in Taiwan. In July 1626, the Council of Formosa, the ruling body of Taiwan, passed a new law: "In order to distinguish the pirates from the traders and workers, we have resolved . . . that all Chinese who live or trade inland among the natives must appear here . . . and obtain a license [een acte van lisentie] permitting them to reside in the land. They shall not be charged for this license."31 This is the first mention in Dutch sources of an institution that would become a key feature of Dutch rule: the residence permit, which became known as the head tax (hoofdgeld). Later the company would begin charging for this permit, which eventually became an important source of income, but in the early years of Dutch rule the residency permit was intended merely to distinguish pirates from non-pirates. Knowing who was a pirate was not easy, because the pirates of Taiwan were linked to larger pirate-merchant networks.

The most important of these networks was led by Zheng Zhilong (鄭芝龍), a key figure in the history of Taiwan.32 Born in Nan'an (between Xiamen and Quanzhou) in 1604, he was by all accounts a handsome and talented lad, who, possibly after a fight with his father, left home to seek his fortune in Macao.33 While in Macao he converted to Christianity, receiving the baptismal name Nicholas Gaspard. After stays in Manila (where he appears to have had trouble with the law) and Nagasaki, he went to Taiwan and joined Yan Siqi's gang.34 He also, and probably concurrently, served as translator for the Dutch East India Company under his Christian name Nicholas Gaspard.35 He probably met Salvador Diaz, and I like to imagine them plotting together in low voices. If, as seems likely, Zhilong worked for the pirates from within the Dutch administration, the Dutch did not find out about it.36 In any case, he soon had bigger opportunities.

After Yan Siqi and Li Dan died in 1625, Zheng sought to become the new pirate chief. Some East Asian sources indicate that the other pirate chiefs elected him as leader thanks to divine intervention, but in fact he won out only after a struggle.37 He had developed close ties to Li Dan, becoming one of his trading agents in Southeast Asia. According to one account, Zheng had just arrived in Cambodia with two of Li Dan's richly laden junks when news arrived that his mentor had died, and he lost no time in declaring himself sole owner of the junks' cargo.38 Whether or not the story is true, there is no doubt that after Li Dan's death Zheng vied with Li Dan's son for control over Li Dan's trading empire.

Zheng's ties with the Dutch helped him, for the Dutch allowed him to pillage under their flag.39 In early 1626, for example, he sailed into the Bay of Tayouan aboard a large junk with a leaking hull and a broken mast. He told Dutch officials that he had come from the north, where he had been patrolling with forty or so companion junks. "From his junk," the governor of Taiwan reported, "the company received for its half, as we had agreed with him, about 960 reals."40 On another occasion the same year, Zheng delivered to the company nine captured junks and their cargos, whose total value was more than 20,000 taels.41

Dutch patronage was only one factor in Zheng's success. He was also a charismatic leader. He cultivated the image of the "noble robber," a seaborne Robin Hood who robbed the rich to feed the poor (jie fu ji pin 劫富濟貧), and stories of his generosity abound.42 He appears to have been careful to avoid violence against the common people, preventing his followers from pillaging those who cooperated, especially near his homeland in Nan'an.43 The image went over well, and thousands of men joined his fleets.44 Others joined because drought and famine left them few alternatives.45

Chinese officials began to worry about his growing power. In a report to the Board of War in Beijing, the Governor-General of Guangdong and Guanxi Provinces wrote that the pirate was "unusually cunning, and practiced in sea warfare. . . . His ships are built like those of foreign barbarians [製自外番], tall and sturdy. . . . His cannons are very effective, shooting from a distance of ten li and smashing their targets. . . . Our ships, on the other hand, although numerous, are scattered along the coastline. They are always on guard but always too few."46 Fujianese officials actually asked the Dutch for help against Zheng, using trading rights as an incentive. Company officials were told that if they refused their help, their main Chinese trading partner, Xu Xinsu, would no longer be permitted to trade with the company but would instead "be destroyed along with his entire family."47 The company agreed to help, and a month later the Dutch lieutenant governor went in person to China to inform officials in Fujian that "the company will undertake to drive (either by force or friendship) the pirate [Zheng Zhilong] and his men from the coast . . . without any help from the Chinese in men or ships (aside from five junks that will be manned by Netherlanders)." In exchange the Dutch expected that "the officials [de grooten] of China will grant to the company permanent free public trade."48 Chinese authorities agreed to the deal, but the Dutch did not act quickly enough. Zheng attacked the city of Xiamen, destroying hundreds of junks and setting fire to buildings and houses.49 The Ming court decided that Zheng was too powerful to subdue with military force. It resolved to woo him with a "summon and appease" policy (zhao fu 招撫).

So, early in 1628, the emperor of China offered Zheng an official title, an imperial rank, and an opportunity to prove his loyalty. Zheng was named "Patrolling Admiral" (you ji jiang jun 遊擊將軍) and ordered to clear the coast of pirates. The assignment suited him. He now had a legitimate excuse to destroy his competitors, and his title made it easy to gather supplies for his growing fleets. He established himself in the port of Yuegang (月港, also known as Haicheng 海澄) and worked to expand his trading networks.50 The Dutch, too, found opportunities in Zheng's official status. In October of 1628, the governor of Taiwan took advantage of Zheng's visit aboard a Dutch ship and forced him to sign a three-year trade accord: Zheng would supply silks, sugar, ginger, and other goods in exchange for silver and spices at fixed rates.51

Yet although Zheng had turned legal, his underlings had not. They still wanted booty, so a series of new pirate leaders emerged. First came Li Kuiqi (李魁奇), one of Zheng's former subcommanders, whom Zheng put down with help from the Dutch.52 Then came Zhong Bin (鍾斌), one of Li Kuiqi's subcommanders, who became so powerful that Chinese officials decided to give him Zheng's official position. Zheng attacked and defeated him anyway.

Then, however, the Dutch themselves got angry at Zheng. They grew convinced that he was trying to monopolize trade to Taiwan, feeling that his promises always "disappeared into smoke".53 In the summer of 1633, a Dutch fleet, in alliance with a pirate named Liu Xiang (劉香), carried out a devastating sneak attack.54 Zheng was under the impression that he and the Dutch were on good terms and was caught off guard. He had been building a special new fleet, inspired by European ships.55 ("It is said," wrote the Dutch governor, "That such an armada of beautiful, big, well-armed junks . . . has never been seen before in China.")56 The surprise attack destroyed the fleet before it set sail.

But Zheng was persistent. He immediately began preparing a new fleet. When it was finished he led it to victory against a Dutch armada, forcing the company to come to terms with him. Fortunately for the Dutch, he was conciliatory in peace negotiations. He arranged for three Chinese traders to receive licenses to trade in Taiwan. Thereafter, four or five large junks and eight or so smaller junks arrived in Taiwan each year laden with silks and other Chinese products for the Dutch. The governor of Taiwan believed that the favorable terms could be attributed to Zheng's and other officials' fear of piracy, without which China would become "arrogant" and less willing to deal with the company.57

Thus, by 1634, the Dutch had reached a modus vivendi with Zheng Zhilong, who knew that the Dutch must be kept appeased with trade goods or they would make trouble again. The pirate wars were not yet over. The pirate Liu Xiang still fought against Zheng. He tried to get the Dutch to ally with him, and when they demurred he asked them at least to allow his fleet to rest in Taiwan. The Dutch refused. In response, Liu Xiang captured a Dutch junk and distributed its thirty-man crew throughout his fleet as human shields. Not long thereafter, Liu Xiang sent a force to attack Fort Zeelandia. Some Chinese residents of Taiwan warned the company, which therefore had no trouble repelling the assault.

By 1637, Zheng had defeated Liu Xiang and other rivals and was solidified in his position as master of the Fujianese trading world. His ships sailed freely throughout East and Southeast Asia, from Japan to Melaka.58 Private traders paid to fly his flag for prestige and protection. He built an opulent castle, connected by a canal directly to the sea, and he continued to have a hand in trade to Taiwan. Few junks dared call there without his consent, for which they usually had to pay. For the most part he and the company maintained cordial relations, but there is little doubt that he kept a secret hand in affairs in Taiwan. There is evidence that he even abetted the growth of the Chinese colony there. On one occasion he and a Chinese official made a plan to relocate victims of a severe drought to Taiwan, providing "for each person three taels of silver and for each three people one ox."59 The plan was never carried out, but he maintained an interest in Taiwan. His son would inherit this interest, with devastating consequences for the Dutch. But that was in the future. For now the Dutch were more preoccupied with other rivals, such as samurai.

Japanese

Japanese traders had for decades been using the Bay of Tayouan as a waystation to buy Chinese silk when the Dutch arrived in 1624.60 Yet Japanese interest in Taiwan went beyond peaceful commerce.61 In 1593, the great unifier, Toyotomi Hideyoshi, planned to incorporate Taiwan into his empire and even sent an envoy with a letter demanding tribute.62 Since there was no authority to which to deliver the letter, it never arrived.63 In 1616, Japanese merchant-adventurer Murayama Toan (村山東庵) sent thirteen vessels to conquer the island.64 Headhunters ambushed one junk in a creek, after which the expedition turned instead to pillaging the Chinese coast.65 Seven years later, after the Dutch had arrived at the Bay of Tayouan, influential Japanese merchants still harbored dreams of annexing Taiwan. Moreover, Japanese junks carried powerful soldiers.66 This combination of ambition and military might made the Japanese an important threat to Dutch control, especially given that aboriginal groups were eager to find allies.

Company officials knew that Japanese merchants had cheap silver and could undercut the company's trade. In 1625 Batavia ordered the governor of Taiwan to prevent the Japanese from trading.67 This, however, was a foolhardy policy. The company's position in East Asia depended upon Japan.68 The company's office in Hirado, established in 1609, was one of its most profitable, yet it was constantly menaced because of Portuguese and Spanish influence in the shogun's court. If the company tried to restrict Japanese commerce in Taiwan it risked angering Japanese traders. The most important of these traders was the regent of Nagasaki, Suetsugu Heizo Masanao, a powerful man with close connections to ruling circles in the shogun's court.69 Suetsugu had for several years been sending junks to Tayouan to trade silver for silk and saw no reason to put up with the pretensions of the new arrivals.

Fortunately for the Dutch, officials in Taiwan did not receive Batavia's foolish orders right away. So when two Japanese junks arrived in the Bay of Tayouan and prepared to trade their rich silver cargos for silk and deerskins, officials in Tayouan resolved not to prohibit their trade altogether but rather "to make [them] pay a duty of ten percent on all products exported [from the island]."70 The Japanese nonetheless protested, "saying that they had come with the emperor's license, that the lords of Nagasaki were their masters, that with the emperor's pass they were allowed to trade anywhere in the Indies without paying tolls, and that . . . their lords would be very displeased."71 While the Dutch and Japanese were negotiating, the letter from Batavia arrived, and the Japanese traders were informed that they would not be allowed to trade at all, information which provoked still more protests. Yet even when forbidden to trade, the presence of Japanese traders hurt the company: Chinese silk merchants refused to sell their wares to the company, convinced that the Japanese would pay more.72

The Japanese insisted that the shogun would be upset, for they carried his red seal. Company officials in Taiwan wisely decided to moderate their policy. They decided that the Japanese would be allowed to trade the silver they had brought this year without tolls but that henceforth "they would not be allowed to trade [in Formosa] with any silver [contanten], but could only sell, directly to the company, goods or provisions it might find useful."73 The Japanese were not pleased with the idea of future restrictions, but they began trading their current cargo with gusto, with dramatic consequences to the company. The Japanese traders, complained company officials, "havecaused the price of silk to go up so quickly that the Chinese sold no silk [to us] for three weeks. . . . If this were to happen every year, the company would be greatly damaged . . . and [the Japanese] would dominate the trade."74 After having spent 70,000 taels on silks and deerhides, the Japanese left, but they said that if they had realized the extent of trade possibilities in Taiwan "they would have sent much more silver this year."75

Japanese traders returned the following year, this time with a huge cargo of 300,000 taels of silver. Again, they asked that the Dutch allow them to trade freely. Company officials stood by their decision to forbid Japanese trade, saying that unless further orders arrived from Batavia the Japanese would not be allowed to trade in Taiwan or even send their capital to China.76 The Japanese visited company officials daily, "with a semblance of great friendship . . . as if there were no disagreement in the world."77 No new orders arrived from Batavia, and the Japanese began getting impatient. They asked to send a small convoy to the Chinese coast. The Council of Formosa refused, saying that Chinese officials would be gravely displeased if the company allowed the Japanese, "who are their enemies," to cross the Taiwan Straits.78 Eventually Dutch officials said that they would allow the Japanese to cross the straits, but under two conditions. First, the company would write a letter to Chinese officials to inform them of the Japanese junks and absolve himself of responsibility.79 And second, the Japanese would be allowed to use only three small junks rather than heavily-armed war or "convoy" junks. The Japanese knew that sending silver across the pirate-infested seas without a convoy was foolhardy, so they asked permission to rent one or two armed junks belonging to Chinese merchant Xu Xinsu (these would attract less attention than armed Japanese junks). The company refused, on the grounds that Chinese officials might find out and revoke Xu Xinsu's permission to trade on Taiwan. The Japanese found little contentment in this, and decided to wait for orders to arrive from Batavia, but no orders came.

Under increasing Japanese pressure the Council of Formosa resolved to allow the Japanese to cross the strait and trade their silver on the coast of China, provided that they use no Japanese war junks.80 To protect themselves from pirates they might instead "man their junks with many Chinese and weapons as Xu Xinsu does, since they should in any case be satisfied to trade in the same way as the company, sending no war junks." The company even provided them with an old junk to fit out as they wished, and they "appeared to be fairly content with the arrangement."81 But by then the monsoon winds had changed and the Japanese were forced to winter in Tayouan. They were getting angry.

Officials in Batavia had warned Taiwan: "You should by no means trust the Japanese. If they were powerful enough and saw an opportunity, they would have no compunction about making themselves masters of the fort and the land, not just in order to get free trade, but also in order to lay claim to the island itself."82 These words proved prescient. As winter turned to spring, the Japanese grew bolder. With a hint of defiance, they requested that the company use its own junks to convoy their goods from China to Taiwan, since they would otherwise, "due to the multitude of the pirates," run a great risk.83 Company officials refused. Indeed, they said, the Japanese themselves would not be allowed to go to China. The Japanese response was audacious. Many of them had trading relationships with a nearby aboriginal village named Sinkan. They secretly took on board sixteen inhabitants of the village and left for Japan. Shocked members of the Dutch Council of Formosa mused, "We presume that the Japanese may undertake something that might cause great problems and prejudice for the company in Japan."84

This was an understatement. The Sinkan expedition to Japan sparked a series of events that nearly ended the company's rule over Taiwan and, indeed, the company's East Asian operations in general. It is not clear whether the action had been planned beforehand or whether it was an ad hoc measure worked out by the junks' captain and the Sinkanders themselves.85 In any case, the Sinkanders arrived at the headquarters of the rich Japanese merchant Suetsugu Heizo Masanao in Nagasaki. Suetsugu was furious about Dutch attempts to hinder his trade in Taiwan. Not long after the Sinkanders had arrived in Nagasaki, Suetsugu presented a remonstrance in their name to the governor (bugyo 奉行) of Nagasaki, charging that the Dutch had tried in all ways to hinder the Japanese trade on Taiwan: Not only had the Dutch aided Chinese pirates and themselves engaged in piracy, but they had also forbidden Chinese merchants to trade with Japanese on Taiwan and had confiscated silk belonging to the Japanese and sold it in Hirado.86 Suetsugu lodged the Sinkanders in his house and gave them clothing and gifts of deerskins. He was preparing to present them at the shogun's court as ambassadors of Formosa. Through translators they would complain about Dutch rule and ask the shogun to take Taiwan under his protection.87

Officials in Batavia were, in the meantime, worried about relations with Japan. They did not know about the Sinkanders, but they knew that Japanese merchants were complaining about trade restrictions. To smooth things over with the shogun, they decided to send a special embassy to Japan. A man named Pieter Nuyts was to lead it, after which he would take over duties as governor of Formosa. His mission was to persuade the shogun that the Dutch had not been mistreating Japanese traders or otherwise hindering their activities. Most importantly, he was to ask the shogun to forbid Japanese junks to sail to Taiwan or, failing that, to ask him at least to refrain for a few years from issuing red seal passes to Taiwan. But when Nuyts arrived in Japan and learned about the Sinkanders, he was furious. He wrote a letter to Taiwan, excoriating officials there for failing to inspect the Japanese junks before their departure from Tayouan.88 Due to Suetsugu's machinations, the shogun declined to receive Nuyts's embassy. To make matters worse, the shogun had decided to grant an audience to the Sinkanders. Fortunately for the Dutch, he declined to accept Formosa for Japan, but he did give the Sinkanders gifts, telling Suetsugu to see to it that the ambassadors were returned safely to Formosa.

Nuyts arrived in Taiwan before the Sinkanders. When they arrived aboard two Japanese junks, Nuyts refused to allow them or anyone aboard the junks to land or even to take in provisions.89 He justified these measures on the grounds that the Japanese were planning to attack the Dutch. Indeed, when company soldiers inspected the junks, they found them highly armed: They carried 470 men and only 40,000 taels of silver. This did not appear to be merely a trading mission. Nuyts ordered the junks to be disarmed. Then he clapped the Sinkanders into irons and confiscated the gifts they had received from the shogun. The Japanese asked to return to Japan, but Nuyts refused to allow them to leave until he had helped them exchange their silver for silk in China. He hoped that if the junks returned to Japan laden with silks the company would avoid complaints in Japan.90

But the Japanese were suspicious. They began to hatch a plot. The Japanese captain, along with fifteen companions, called on governor Nuyts in his house. They found him at home with his son. They said they had come to say goodbye. The governor replied that goodbyes were premature because the Japanese were not allowed to leave yet. The Japanese captain said he intended to leave anyway. Nuyts insisted that he would not. At this, the Japanese "leapt up, seized the governor by his head, and tied him up in the Japanese manner."91 Then they chased the governor's guards out of the house and secured it. In the meantime, other Japanese soldiers had surrounded the house and begun fighting with company soldiers. Gunners in Fort Zeelandia fired their cannons, hitting a Japanese boat, but Nuyts ordered the Dutch military commander to cease firing.

By the time the smoke cleared, 150 Japanese had barricaded themselves in the governor's house. After three days of parleys, the Council of Formosa acceded to five demands, in exchange for which the Japanese would release Nuyts. First, both sides would have five hostages (among the Dutch hostages would be Nuyts's son). Second, the eleven Sinkanders who remained in captivity would be released. Third, the Sinkanders would have their gifts restored to them. Fourth, the Dutch would give the Japanese 200 picols of raw silk which, according to the Japanese, the Dutch had prevented them from collecting in China and which had therefore been stolen by Chinese pirate Zheng Zhilong. Fifth and finally, the rudders would be removed from the Dutch ships in Tayouan to prevent them from chasing the Japanese.92 After the Dutch commander accepted the demands, Nuyts went free.

As company officials began gathering the 200 picols of silk and removing the rudders from their ships, a group of Japanese escorted the Sinkanders back to their village. The party arrived in Sinkan in triumph and "celebrated and made merry, praising and glorifying the Japanese as those who treated them magnificently and generously, both in Japan and during their journey, having received from them many gifts, money, and goods. In contrast, they denigrated the Hollanders, painting them in ugly colors, as those who treated them badly and impolitely . . . and took away . . . that which the Japanese had given."93 Shortly thereafter, the Japanese sailed for Nagasaki.

A Dutch ship was dispatched shortly thereafter to try to repair relations with Japan, but upon arrival there it was seized its crew was imprisoned. In fact, all Dutch ships in Japan were detained. Suetsugu had complained to the shogun, who had frozen company activities in Japan. Suetsugu's aims were clear: He ordered his Dutch prisoners to write to Batavia and demand that the company abandon its post on Taiwan. The Council of the Indies in Batavia responded by sending another special envoy to Japan. The envoy went in vain, obtaining only a letter from Suetsugu demanding that Fort Zeelandia be abandoned.

The loss of the Japan trade was a serious blow to the company. As the Governor-General of Batavia (the highest Dutch official in Asia) wrote, "the pantry is closed."94 Officials reflected seriously on their options. On the one hand, they felt that the company had a legal right to collect tolls from the Japanese who traded in Taiwan.95 On the other hand, without trading privileges in Japan, the Dutch colony in Taiwan was not worth the cost of upkeep.96 The governor of Formosa and his council members wrote to Batavia, urging the Council of the Indies to retain the Taiwan factory. They argued that if Taiwan were abandoned, the Portuguese and Spanish would take over.97 After some discussion, Batavia decided not to dismantle the colony, but it did decrease the funds going to Tayouan  telling officials there to cut costs and cease building projects until the Japan trade could be restored.98

But in June 1630, the Dutch had a stroke of luck. Suetsugu died. His son, Suetsugu Heizo Masafusa, was better disposed toward them.99 Whereas his father had kept company officials from appearing in the shogun's court, the son allowed the Dutch to reestablish dialog with the shogun. How would the Dutch make their case? Perhaps a scapegoat would do the trick. Pieter Nuyts soon found himself on a second voyage to Japan, but this time he wore no ambassador's finery. He was far more effective as a prisoner than as a leader. The shogun ordered the Dutch prisoners to be freed (many had died, including Nuyts's son), and the Dutch were once again allowed to trade in Japan. Nuyts remained imprisoned in Japan until 1636, after which he returned to the Netherlands.

The company's lucky streak continued. In 1635, the shogun forbade Japanese to go abroad and required that all Japanese who were currently abroad return to Japan or lose their citizenship. At once, the Japanese threat to Taiwan was lifted. Not only had the company weathered a severe threat to its sovereignty on Taiwan, but henceforth they would face no competition from Japanese traders. (The removal of Japanese competition did not just affect Taiwan. It also allowed the Dutch to expand into other Japanese markets in Southeast Asia.) In 1639, the shogun ended all contact with the Portuguese. Once again, the decision was of tremendous help to the Dutch. The Portuguese, the company's major competitor in the silk-for-silver trade, were no longer a threat in Japan. Taiwan was set to become a flourishing colony. Batavia opened its purses again, allowing—even encouraging—investments in the colony. But the colony would not be able to prosper until the company established authority over its aboriginal neighbors, especially the powerful and recalcitrant village of Mattau.

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