The Islands of Unwisdom

by Robert Graves

  Since the Governeress had boarded up the door between the Chart-room and the Great Cabin, which she forbade Pedro Fernandez to enter on whatever pretext, he sent me to her as his go-between. I was to announce that if she refused to sell him food against his pledge to pay her in Manila, he would not hold himself responsible for the consequences: the troops, who were now in a worse condition even than when we had sighted the Cape of Santo Espiritu, might mutiny and break into her store-room.

  ‘My good Andrés,’ she said, ‘ask the Chief Pilot whether he has lost forty thousand pesos on this expedition, as I have!’

  ‘But the men, your Excellency?’

  ‘The soldiers do no work and need not eat; for the sailors I care nothing.’ She did not, however, go so far as to reveal what must have been uppermost in her mind: that the smaller the ship’s company when we reached port, the less money would she need to expend.

  Pancha came nobly to our rescue. She reported to Doña Ysabel that the calf had died during the night, never having recovered from an injury it sustained when the ship was buffeted about off Capul. ‘I should not recommend any Christian to try that veal,’ she said. ‘Its guts were rotted through.’

  ‘My poor brindle!’ cried Doña Ysabel. ‘And I had hoped to bring you safe to Manila!’

  ‘What am I to do with the carrion, your Excellency?’

  ‘What else but throw it overboard? Ah, if God had only spared me this!’

  The calf, which was alive and in the best of health, was then secretly slaughtered, and the carcase thrown into the sea at the end of a line, but presently hauled aboard again. Pancha had bound us on oath not to make a stew, lest the smell might reach the Governeress’s nostrils; it was therefore eaten raw. Some found this repugnant, but Jaume reminded them: ‘What does not poison, fattens.’

  About noon on the 4th of February, we met with two forty-oared galleys coming from Manila. We showed the Royal Standard and hailed them. The officers and crew were Filipinos to a man and the master of the leading galley, as she came alongside, told us in passable Castilian that he was taking a cargo of Chinese trade-goods to the Jesuit mission on Zebu, west of Leyte; a voyage of a hundred leagues between the islands. When Pedro Fernandez, in the King’s name, asked for a pilot to steer us past the notorious Tuley Reef, they gave us one at a daily charge of three pesos, which we might pay in Manila.

  Observing our famished looks, which contrasted strangely with the sparkling rings which Doña Ysabel was displaying, their purser offered to sell her some rice. She told him that his price was too high and, finding that she could not beat him down by so much as a maravedi, retired in a huff to the Great Cabin. We pleaded with him for a gift, to which he replied that the remedy lay in our hands, and that we deserved nothing if we were not men enough to pull those rings from her fingers. However, Pedro Fernandez found two good pairs of buckled shoes in his sea-chest, for each of which the Filipino paid him with a large basketful of rice. This he divided among the crew, and also gave them leave to chop up the mizzen-yard for fuel.

  We then coasted along the islet of Fortun, and on the 7th of February came to the entrance of Manila Bay. Land stretched on either side of us, and we could even make out the distant smoke of the City; but the wind was north-easterly and blew dead against us. For three days and nights we tried to enter, but could not: and though we counted the hours between each flood-tide, hoping that the next would bring us within hail of Corregidor Islet, which commands the mouth of the Bay, we lost distance, rather than gained it. At last Damian said to the Chief Pilot: ‘For the love of God, your honour, run the ship aground; our luck is out.’

  ‘But, man, the coast is steep-to and the waves are high.’

  ‘What other chance has this vile woman left us?’

  I carried one last appeal to the Governeress, who replied that she had no more than two sacks of flour left and four bottles of wine, all of which she needed to buy masses for Don Alvaro’s soul. She was lying, and did not care who knew it; so I refrained from contradicting her.

  As I turned to go, she called me back. ‘When the Chief Pilot delivers me a certain letter,’ she said, ‘addressed to him by my sister, the men will be fed, but not until then.’

  I took Pedro Fernandez his answer, feigning ignorance of the letter. ‘I would gladly give it her,’ he assured me, ‘to save their lives, if I could be certain that she would keep to her bargain. But I have no notion to whom Doña Mariana entrusted it—unless it were Captain Lopez, who is no longer with us.’

  ‘In that case,’ Doña Ysabel told me, when I went to her again, ‘I fear I cannot oblige him.’

  I miauled at her, like a hungry kitten: ‘But what of me? Would you let your own secretary waste away to a ravelling?’

  She flung a sheaf of papers at my head. ‘Begone with you, little misery! I’m not the fool you take me to be: I know a double-dealer by his way of walking.’

  There was no more to be done. Hourly we grew weaker, and I composed myself for death, not having had a bite to eat for a week but a platter of dry rice and a small piece of raw veal, and scarcely a spoonful of drink. Myn, who had been fed well enough, was sent round the ship with a fellow-servant in a brisk search for the letter; he unlocked sea-chests or broke them open with his axe, shook the straw out of palliasses, ripped up the lining of coats, slit open the soles of shoes, chuckling at the feeble protests of the owners. A reward of a jar of oil and half a sack of flour was offered for ‘a treasonable letter written to the Chief Pilot, if presented to the Governeress with the seal intact.’

  Nothing was found, and Doña Ysabel dared not put Pedro Fernandez to the torture until we were safely past Corregidor.

  ‘One last effort, brave hearts,’ said he to his three remaining seamen, ‘and Manila is ours! We have made a voyage through uncharted seas which will be famous for many a year, and done our duty nobly by God and the King.’

  With dry throats and blackened tongues they croaked back: ‘To the Devil with that! The Governeress and her bloody-minded brothers will claim the lion’s share of praise. We are only sailors, ragged and dying: what welcome or mercy can we expect?’

  They executed his orders sullenly, with reproachful looks, or not at all. The wind blew still from the north-east. I painfully entered my own name in the death-ledger, marking the cross, but leaving a blank for the date, and wondered dully who would complete the entry.

  Yet our Blessed Lady always looks pityingly upon her afflicted children and brings succour and solace in time of most distress. At dawn on the 10th of February the wind backed to the north-west, and we were able to tack slowly towards the entrance of Manila Bay, still two leagues distant. Soon after nine o’clock a baranguay was seen approaching from the direction of Corregidor, where a duty-officer is always posted to give the Governor-General early intelligence of the arrival of ships. Four Spaniards were in it, who seemed to us like four thousand angels, and a sturdy crew pulled at the oars. They hailed us and clambered aboard; it was the Duty-officer, by name Don Alonzo de Albarran, with two soldiers and the Governor-General’s major-domo. Our people gave them weak hand-clasps and tearful embraces, and tried to cheer, but could not. Doña Ysabel came out on the quarter-deck, where the Major-domo handed her a letter from his illustrious master, full of condolences on her misfortunes, of which Don Diego and Don Luis had informed him in detail, and high compliments on her single-minded courage and devotion to the Royal cause.

  She showed this to the Chief Pilot, remarking with satisfaction: ‘You had best be careful how you behave in Manila, where I am already famous.’

  ‘We are not there yet,’ he answered. ‘God may have further troubles in store for us. Pray excuse me: I have work to do.’ He pointed at the channel between Corregidor and The Friar, a large rock which lies due south of it.

  She invited the Major-domo into the Great Cabin, where she plied him with wine and wrote a reply to the Governor-General.

  Meanwhile, the Duty-officer gazed in horrified wonder at our people and,
seeing them so emaciated, tattered, sickly and covered with sores, could exclaim only: ‘God be praised that you have made port at last!’ Then he ventured below, despite the noisome stink that assailed him, and saw such a scene of misery and filth as, I suppose, was never before found in a royal ship. The between-decks might have been a lazar-house in a city that had been sacked after a two years’ siege. Naked corpses lay putrifying in a row against the bulkhead; half-naked scarecrows who had once been upright men and comely women stared at him from sunken, lack-lustre eyes, and whimpered: ‘Water! For the love of Christ, a drop of water and a few crumbs of bread!’ A madman raved in the stocks: ‘Alas, alas, the black men have eaten my lovely children, blood, bones and all!’

  Don Alonzo retreated, in anguish of mind, murmuring: ‘O God! To think that Christians should have sunk so low!’ At the sound of loud grunts and squeals from the other side of the bulkhead, he went into the aftercastle to discover what new horror this might be; and found that the noise proceeded from two well-fed pigs. He called the Purser, and asked incredulously: ‘Man, what are these?’

  ‘Pigs, if it please your honour.’

  ‘Then my eyes do not play me false! But, in the name of mercy, why are they not slaughtered to feed your starvelings?’

  ‘They are the Governeress’s own.’

  ‘What the Devil! Is this a time for courtesy to pigs?’ Then, with a profound sigh, he declaimed dramatically: ‘O cruel avarice which, entering in and taking possession of so fair a bosom, can turn a living heart to flint!’

  He broke unceremoniously into the Great Cabin where Doña Ysabel, radiant with joy, was sealing the letter that she had just written. When he bowed to her, she offered him her best Malaga. ‘Wine, too?’ he cried aghast. ‘I should have a heavy load on my conscience if I even wetted my lips at this goblet.’

  ‘Have you fault to find with my hospitality?’ she asked, puckering her brow.

  Don Alonzo gazed sternly at her. ‘When did your ladyship last call upon your sisters of the between-decks?’ he enquired.

  With more than her usual haughtiness, she replied: ‘I had but one sister, who lived and died here, in the aftercastle, as befitted her quality.’

  ‘Follow me!’ he ordered harshly, and she came, with a shrug of her shoulders, not caring to cut a bad figure before the Major-domo. Don Alonzo led her down below where, at sight of her, the women pursed their cracked lips as if to spit, but the men crossed themselves in abhorrence and looked away. She stood there, dressed in jewelled clothes, her skirts lifted high to avoid soiling them. Her cheeks were plump and rosy; her delicate nose twitched in disgust. Don Alonzo snatched a bundle of rags from the arms of a dying woman: it was a child with a face like a shrivelled winter-apple, arms like cabbage stalks, and a portentously swollen stomach. Pressing it on Doha Ysabel, ‘Take this, you charitable dame!’ he commanded. She let out a shriek and darted off, weeping, pursued by whispered curses and laughter like the crackling of sticks.

  At her order Myn slaughtered the two pigs, lighted the galley-fires, and threw the corpses into the sea; and she, with a tearful protest that the Chief Pilot had failed to inform her of her people’s plight, engaged herself to dole them out wine, flour and oil forthwith. But at last we reached Corregidor on a long tack, and there our visitors left us, so she did not trouble to keep her promise.

  Soon afterwards another baranguay came up, carrying the Provincial Magistrate, the Barreto brothers, and several soldiers. They brought Doña Ysabel wine, fruit, fresh bread and other dainties as a present from the Governor-General. Having learned prudence from her encounter with Don Alonzo, she was now dressed soberly enough, and told the Magistrate with a sad smile: ‘Alas, your worship, hungry though I be, I must not touch these good things until the poor sufferers forward have been given their share. Their need is even greater than mine.’ She found it easy to deceive him.

  The Magistrate took his gifts below, where the wolfish way in which they were snatched from his servants’ hands made him exclaim: ‘Gentlemen, ladies, remember your manners! You are no longer in the jungle.’

  I staggered from my cabin and secured for my share a small loaf and a cup of wine, but the three ship’s officers to whom the navigation was now wholly abandoned had been given nothing as yet. In the privacy of the Great Cabin I found Don Diego and Don Luis carousing with their sister and helping her to empty a large hamper of bread and cold chicken. I asked Don Diego whether he would have the kindness to spare a morsel for the Chief Pilot. He would not answer, except to rally me on my appearance, with: ‘Why, Fat Cheeks, you’d not cut up very well now, eh? However, I dare say you might still serve for the stock-pot, given plenty of vegetables.’

  It was Pancha once again who relieved the distress of Pedro Fernandez and his companions by a timely theft from her mistress. Damian told her with emotion as he ate and drank: ‘At one time you caused a deal of trouble in the ship, but I know now that you are on the side of the angels.’

  ‘When a woman loses her looks, she must needs fall back on virtue,’ Pancha answered, gazing ruefully at her shrunken body.

  That night seemed endless, but with the dawn a capacious barge came alongside, laden with various cooked meats, bread, wine and vegetables, a gift sent at the Governor-General’s request by Don Diego Marmolejo, the richest land-owner of the district. This time everyone received as much as he could eat.

  The white-washed houses of Cavite, a port two leagues from Manila, hove in sight and we tacked towards them. Don Juan Pinao, boatswain of a royal galleon lying at anchor there, arrived in a skiff rowed by sailors in their best silks and came aboard to guide us into harbour. His men were between tears and laughter at the crazy appearance of the San Geronimo, and he told Pedro Fernandez: ‘By the body of Bacchus! You must be the most skilful, or the luckiest, pilot the world has ever known.’

  ‘He is both, and more!’ said Don Marcos. ‘His skill would not have served without extraordinary luck, nor his luck without extraordinary skill, nor either without Our Lady’s help.’

  The Captain of the Port stood, sword in hand, on the beach, his men drawn up smartly under arms. We made one last tack and ran in. As we dropped anchor, the Royal Standard was broken on the quay, and a resounding salvo of cannon and musketry bade us welcome. The gunner’s mate and Myn touched off a couple of falcons in reply, and the veterans discharged their arquebuses.

  It was the 11th of February 1596, and on that day I put EXPLICIT to my ledger. Not one of all the marriages contracted in the flagship, but had been dissolved by death. Of one hundred and twenty souls, our original complement, only twenty-five men, nine women and one child still lived; and eight more men, one woman and the child were dead within the month.

  Twenty casks of water, twelve sacks of flour, four jars of oil, half a dozen pipes of wine, many sides of bacon and much other food remained in Doña Ysabel’s larder: all that Belita had not been able to sell at famine prices (secretly, as though without the Governeress’s consent) to the destitute ship’s company. But this shameful hoard was carefully concealed from the good people of Manila, who came out in boats, bringing gifts of food and clothing for our relief. With their charitable help the sick and dying were carried to a lazar-house, while those still able to walk went to private homes, where they received much kindness. I stayed on board with the Governeress and the ship’s officers.

  A stream of sightseers now called to view the marvellous vessel which, as rumour had it, was despatched by the Viceroy of Peru to bring back the Queen of Sheba from the Isles of Solomon. All of them, for good luck, touched the famous cable that still kept us at anchor, and knelt in adoration before Our Lady of Solitude, still smiling tenderly from the sprung mainmast.

  Chapter 26

  AT MANILA

  The Coastal Magistrate arriving on a courtesy visit, Doña Ysabel importuned him with complaints that all the ship’s officers were guilty of treason: the Chief Pilot and the Boatswain had disobeyed her orders at Cobos, and the Boatswain’s mate had
publicly insulted Captain-General Barreto at Galban. Since she laid her accusations on so thick, he agreed to hold a Court in the Great Cabin without further delay, expecting her to appear as the principal witness; then, at the last moment, she retired and he could but examine them informally.

  Don Marcos Marin pleaded not guilty, on the ground that the orders in question had been improperly delivered. Damian replied with a counter-charge, that he had been shot at for speaking the truth; he also denied that Don Diego ever held the rank of Captain-General. Pedro Fernandez refused to plead, and asked to be placed under arrest until a regular charge should be lodged against him.

  Looking very big and thumping the table with his fists, the Magistrate said in violent tones that he marvelled how any man could hesitate to obey the orders of so pious, beautiful and afflicted a lady as Doña Ysabel.

  ‘Your worship,’ boldly answered the Boatswain, ‘of her piety let God judge; her afflictions have been for the most part of her own contrivance; and when we few who survive are starved into frightful ugliness her very beauty accuses her of vile avarice and greed.’

  He was sternly rebuked and told not to slander the Governeress further, unless he cared to be shut in a madhouse for the rest of his life. ‘Look ye, Peruvian rascals,’ said the Magistrate in conclusion, ‘your countrymen are well-known for their mettlesomeness, but I charge you to remember that you are no longer in the Isles of Solomon where a man can behave as he pleases. You are come to the Philippines and subject to our penal law, with which you will be foolish to trifle.’