For several centuries Chinese records seem to have made little or no mention of Formosa; then in the twelfth century occurred an event even more extraordinary, as far as the relations between China and Formosa were concerned. This was the appearance in the sea-coast villages of Fokien Province, China, of a band of several hundred Formosans. These men came, it is said, for the purpose of pillaging iron from the homes and shops of the Chinese. This metal they valued above anything else in the world,[14] because they had learned that it could be made into spear-heads and arrow-heads, also into knives, more serviceable than those made of flint. They were not able, apparently, to smelt the crude ore, but they understood the building of forges, and were skilful in “beating ploughshares into swords”—to paraphrase. Locks, bolts, nails, from the houses of the Chinese villagers, were grist to the mill of these Formosans, as was anything else made of iron on which they could lay their hands. It is said that before they could be driven away they had secured a large store of iron, in various forms, much of which they succeeded in carrying off in their boats. This is the only occasion on record on which the Formosan “barbarians” ventured to cross the channel which separates their island from China; or at least the only one on which they succeeded in doing so.

It was not until the Yuan dynasty (in the early part of the fourteenth century), during a war between China and Japan, that a Chinese expedition proved that Formosa did not belong to the Lu-chu group; this with tragic consequences to an eminent Chinese scholar of the day. The history of the Yuan dynasty records that “a literate of Fokien Province advised attacking Japan through the Lu-chu Islands.” This literate, believing Formosa to be one of the Lu-chu group, begged the Chinese admiral, Yangtsian, to set sail first for that island. It seems that it had been the intention of Admiral Yangtsian to sail from North China directly to Japan, but, with that respect for reputed scholarship characteristic of the Chinese, the admiral listened to the advice of the literate; the latter being promoted to naval rank, and asked to join the expedition as adviser.

This expedition proved that the principal island of the Lu-chu group lay many li to the north of Formosa. China was the gainer in geographical knowledge; but the admiral lost the advantage which he probably would have gained had he sailed from North China, and his adviser, the literate, lost his head—not figuratively, but literally. Even after this expedition, however, Formosa was still called “Little Lu-chu.”

It was not until the time of the Ming dynasty (1368-1644) that the island seems to have been called Taiwan. In Chinese records of this period the name “Taiwan,” as applied to the island, appears for the first time. Indeed, for some reason, Chinese authorities seem to consider that the “authentic history” of the island begins from the time of the Ming dynasty. The event which in Chinese chronicles dates the beginning of this “authentic history” was the visit—an unintentional one—in about 1430, of the eunuch, Wan San-ho, an officer of the Chinese Court. Wan San-ho had been on a visit to Siam, and was on his way back to China, when the boat on which he was sailing was struck by a typhoon and blown so far out of its course that the captain was obliged to take refuge in the nearest port, which happened to be on the south-west coast of Formosa, near the present town of Tainan.[15] It is recorded that Wan San-ho remained for some time on the island, and when he eventually returned to China took back with him herbs and plants of high medicinal value. It is said that the Chinese still use in their pharmacopœia herbs grown from the seeds of those brought from Formosa by Wan San-ho in the fifteenth century. For the accuracy of this statement I, of course, cannot vouch; nor could my Chinese-Formosan friend who first told me the story of Wan San-ho. He, however, evidently believed it to be true.

It was also during the Ming dynasty that the first association of the Japanese with Formosa is recorded. This was about the close of what is known in Japanese history as the Ashikaga dynasty, which lasted from 1336 to 1443. At this time the Japanese Empire was torn by internal conflict, and was the scene of constant strife between contending political parties, the followers of the Great Daimyos. During this period of disorder Japanese pirates, under the banner of Hachiman (the Japanese God of War), plundered the villages on the coast of China and established headquarters, first on the Pescadores—the small group of islands off the west coast of Formosa—and later at the port that is now known as Keelung, on Formosa proper.

This seems to have been a harvest-time for Japanese pirates. Unrestrained by authority at home, and finding no enemy stronger than themselves on the sea, they made raids not only on the towns of the China Coast, but made successful plundering expeditions even as far south as Siam. The booty from these raids, it seems, was first brought to Keelung, then sent to Japan, where it was sold at a high profit. Those were days in which bold buccaneers waxed fat.

Nor were the Japanese pirates allowed to reap the harvest alone. At the same time that these men had headquarters at Keelung, in the north of Formosa, Chinese pirates had established headquarters near Tainan, in the southern part of the island. If the records report truly, the intercourse between the Chinese and Japanese pirates does not seem to have been unfriendly, even while their respective nations were at war with each other—outlaws presumably being absolved from the obligations of patriotism. This state of affairs lasted for over a hundred years. During the sixteenth century Formosa, which was then known to the Japanese as “Takasago,” seems to have become a sort of “clearing-house” between China and Japan—a link between nations the “respectable” portions of whose populations were estranged. In the early part of that century the Chinese pirates were united under the leadership of Gan Shi-sai, grandfather of the famous Koksinga, shrines to whose memory recently erected by the Japanese—because it has been learned that his mother was a Japanese—one sees everywhere in Formosa at the present time.[16]

The sixteenth century was a rather noteworthy one in the history of Formosa. It was during this century that the Hakkas—the outcaste class of China—fled to Formosa to escape persecution in the mother-country. And more important, at least from the European point of view, it was in the sixteenth century that Europeans first learned—as far as there is any record—of the existence of the island. It is sometimes said that the Portuguese had a fort in Keelung about 1590. Of this there seems to be no definite proof. Not only was this the opinion of the Chinese-Formosan who first gave me in outline the history of the island, but later investigation on my own part failed to find proof, or even trustworthy evidence, of the existence of such a fort. However, there can be little doubt that the Portuguese navigators, sailing down the west coast of the island, gave to it the name by which it is known to-day to Europeans—“Ilha Formosa” (Beautiful Island).[17] The Dutch navigator Linschotten, in the employ of the Portuguese, so recorded it in his chart in the latter part of the sixteenth century.