The Chrysanthemum, the Cross, and the Dragon

by Iver P. Cooper

  "Good to be under the stars, neh?" Masatsugu said to the lieutenant.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  The ships moved in-shore off Malate, somewhat over a mile from the walls of Intramuros. Boats were lowered and the first ashigaru infantry, musketeers, and spearmen landed. These were followed by samurai spearmen and specialist ashigaru archer-sharpshooters.

  Advancing north along the shore, the Japanese occupied one church after another: first the Malate church and convent, then the Ermita church, perhaps nine hundred yards from the city, and finally the churches of San Juan and San Diego, in Bagumbayan, beside the very moat of Manila.

  They did not encounter any serious opposition; the Spanish forces had been distracted by the events in the city and the Parian.

  The main fleet, composed of both Dutch warships and Japanese junks, was also on the move. The warships headed toward Fort Santiago, to discourage its garrison from sallying. They formed a line, parallel to the shore, just out of cannon shot.

  The junks sailed toward Malate. They anchored in the shallows and disgorged thousands more troops, including cavalry. They also unloaded Dutch-supplied artillery and other siege equipment.

  Masatsugu was relieved to see them. While the soldiers on the galetas outnumbered the entire garrison of Manila by something like three to one, there were hundreds more Spanish living in the city who might bear arms in a time of need, as well as indios auxiliaries that could be summoned.

  With many more Japanese soldiers on hand, they now pressed the indios civilians into service. This was done not so much because their help was necessary, but so they would be complicit in the invasion. Carts were hitched to water buffaloes, and the mortar barrels and carriages and their powder and bombs were loaded up. The artillery was brought up to the churches of San Diego and San Juan.

  The church of San Diego was only three hundred yards from the bastion of the same name, already rendered almost toothless by the ninja masquerading as "ambassador's retainers." The stone walls of the church, built thick to withstand earthquakes, were equally well suited to providing cover for the Japanese troops.

  Safe behind the mass of the Church of San Diego, Dutch mortars roared, gradually reducing the walls. Thanks to the saboteurs, there was no return cannon fire. Arquebusiers in the bell tower made sure that the Spanish could do little or nothing to repair the damage. The galetas moved up and pounded the bastion from the bayside.

  The second mortar battery, beside the more northerly Church of San Juan, opened fire on the bastion of San Nicholas, and the Puerta Real, the main gate of the Intramuros, just south of it.

  Even here, the return fire was desultory. Plainly, the distractions were still working.

  General Masatsugu turned to one of his aides. "How soon can we launch the assault on the gate?"

  "The kamikosha are here, sir, just out of sight of the enemy." These "tortoise wagons" were wheeled rams, with roofs of dampened hide to protect against arrows and bullets. "We have an ample supply of scaling ladders, too. The moving staircases, last I heard, were still being assembled in Malate."

  "We can't wait for them," said the general. "Once the fires in the city are put out and the rioting in the Parian suppressed, the Spanish will shift forces back here. Signal, 'prepare to commence assault on main gate.' "

  Several tsukai-ban, samurai messengers with outsized flags attached to their backs, rode off to deliver the necessary orders to the various units.

  Once they returned and confirmed that all was in readiness, a Dutch mortar was used to throw a light-shell into the air. It was the signal to commence the assault. The arquebusiers formed up in line and added their fire to that of the artillery. The kamikosha lumbered forward, followed by a column of spear-carrying ashigaru.

  The Spanish were aware of their peril, but the walls were undermanned and the troops demoralized. Cannon fire did demolish two of the kamikosha, but the third made it into position directly before the gate, and the Japanese shooters kept the defense at bay.

  Moreover, the Spanish couldn't devote all of their attention to the gate. More infantry had come forward and laid scaling ladders against the walls. It was a race: could the samurai and their followers make it up the ladders before the defenders could push them aside? Sometimes, the defenders lost that race and had to shift troops in order to limit how much of the wall was taken by the invaders.

  The gate, only weakly defended now, was rammed again and again, and at last was broken. With a battle shout never heard in the Philippines before this year--"Banzai!"--the Japanese troops poured through.

  Chapter 8

  “W

  hat happened?" groaned Juan. "Where am I?"

  Suddenly, Mingyu was looking down at him. "Do you know who I am?"

  "Yes, of course, although you're a bit blurry right now."

  "Not surprising. You had a nasty scalp wound."

  "I remember some man dressed in dark blue. He had this weird weapon, a staff of some kind. He swung it, and next thing I knew, there was a chain wrapped around my leg. He pulled me down, I saw the other end of the staff swinging toward me, and well, here I am. Wherever that is."

  "Here is in the Binondo." Mingyu gave an indignant sniff. "You could sound more appreciative, I think. I found you lying on the street and had you carried here by my friends."

  "My humblest thanks, madonna. What is going on?"

  "The Japanese invaded. The gossip mongers say that there are a hundred thousand of them, but I would guess more like ten thousand. There are perhaps thirty thousand Chinese in the Parian or the Binondo, and I would say that at least half have thrown in with the Japanese and have been given arms."

  "Not you?"

  "No. If there are no Spanish here, then we aren't going to get silver from Nueva Espana, right? And Chinese aren't going to come here to trade, right? Why kill the goose that lays the golden eggs?"

  "What about the Chinese Christians, in the Binondo?"

  "What do you expect? Plenty of them converted only for practical reasons, and they were perfectly prepared to un-convert if circumstances changed. There are still Chinese Christians in the Binondo, I'm sure, but they are keeping a low profile right now."

  "I have to get back to my garrison."

  "Impossible. You are in no condition to walk, let alone swing a sword. And I doubt that you could take ten steps out of my house without being killed. Spaniards aren't exactly welcome in the Parian, or even the Binondo, right now."

  "So what do you propose?"

  "You like me, don't you?"

  "Very much." Juan blushed. "Even before you saved my life."

  "Well, I like you, too. I can get you out of Manila and onto a ship, if I have to. And I can take you to meet my uncle in Fujian. He can send warnings to Macau and to Cebu and....We might find a use for you in the family business."

  "I've been meaning to ask you... ask you... I'm sorry, I think I better go back to sleep."

  "Do that. There will be time for questions and answers when you're fully recovered."

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  A few days later, she sat on the bed next to him. "Feeling better?"

  He gave her a brief smile. "As soon as you sat beside me."

  "I have bad news. Fort Santiago has surrendered. After they entered the Intramuros, they sent an emissary to the fort with the message that if the fort didn't surrender by sunrise the next day, they would set up crosses in Plaza Mayor, crucify every Spanish man, woman and child in the city, catapult their heads into the fort, and throw their bodies into the Pasig to poison the fort's water supply. The emissary also said that if they surrendered, the garrison would be allowed to leave, with personal possessions other than arms, on Dutch ships."

  "And the governor surrendered?"

  "Not immediately. But after the heads started sailing over the walls, the garrison mutinied and sent out an emissary of their own, asking whether, if they turned over the governor, the terms were still good.

  "All Spanish men still left alive in the city�
��there aren't a lot—have been handed over to the Dutch, to be taken back to Europe and held for ransom. The Spanish women and children are being allowed to take Chinese ships to Macau. So there's no need to bring a warning there, they'll know soon enough."

  "What about Cavite and the garrison of Fort Felipe? Why didn't they come to our aid?"

  "They couldn't. Those Portuguese galetas, it turns out, had been seized by the Japanese in Nagasaki and were carrying Dutch crews and Japanese soldiers. And there were elite night fighters of some kind on that Japanese red seal ship, the Asahi Maru. They seized a guard patache, and the galetas fired a couple of broadsides upon the Spanish ships at that port before the fort woke up to the threat. With its shipping rendered unfit to sail, the garrison at Cavite couldn't interfere with the assault on Manila; it would have had to march twenty-six miles. And I guess they were reluctant to leave Fort Felipe undefended."

  "Can you get me to Fort Felipe? Or close enough for me to walk there?"

  "There'd be no point. Once Fort Santiago surrendered, Fort Felipe did, too."

  Juan fingered the bandage across his head. "I think.... I think with Manila fallen and the governor-general a prisoner, authority will devolve to the captain-general of Cebu. What are the chances that any of my countrymen escaped to bring warning to the authorities in Cebu?"

  Mingyu shrugged. "I am sure that there are other Spaniards in hiding in the city. And perhaps more in the countryside, among the Pampangans. But unless they have access to a ship, they aren't going to be able to warn Cebu. And the route to Cebu is long and treacherous; they would need a stout ship and an experienced captain and crew to make it there. A canoe or even a fishing boat probably isn't going to be good enough."

  She stood up. "Don't worry. I will get you out of here safely. I can't promise I can get you to Cebu, but I will get you out of Manila somehow."

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  For the next few days, Juan remained confined to the small windowless room in which he had awakened. The door had a small hatch at the bottom through which food trays were inserted and removed; only Mingyu, apparently, was allowed to enter the room, and Juan was forbidden to leave it. This was, Juan was told, a precaution to minimize how many of her people knew of his presence, as a reward had been offered for turning in Spaniards.

  Each day he asked when he would be able to leave, and each day she told him, "Not yet, the invaders are still searching the ships."

  At last the day came when her answer changed. "They seem to have tired of the search for escaping Spaniards. We will wait another day to be sure and then remove you that night if there has been no change for the worse."

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  The appointed night arrived. Mingyu entered the room and told Juan, "It's time." Then two Chinese carried a large chest, the kind that had carrying poles affixed to accommodate a heavy load, into the room, and left without saying anything to Juan.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  "Can they be trusted?" he asked.

  "They were the friends--shipmates, actually--that helped me carry you here in the first place. Since they didn't betray you earlier, I think they can be trusted now.

  "You need to get into the chest."

  Juan eyed it suspiciously. "How long will I be in there?"

  'An hour, perhaps? Long enough to get you to the dock, on board our chuan, and into a hiding space below."

  "I don't think I can hold my breath that long," said Juan.

  Mingyu laughed, "You won't have to. There are concealed airholes."

  Juan looked more closely at the chest. "I don't see them."

  "And that's the point. We have used this very chest to smuggle missionaries into Japan. We would stop here in Manila on our way to Nagasaki and pretend we had come directly from China." She paused. "It was profitable for us, but your continuing to send missionaries is probably why the Japanese attacked you."

  "We have an obligation to spread the True Faith," Juan admonished her.

  "And now your Manila priests are preaching to the fishes."

  Juan started to make a retort and then thought better of it.

  "Well, what are you waiting for? Get in!"

  Juan stepped into the chest. "It's a bit small for me."

  "Lie on your side, bend your knees, drawn them up against your chest.... Perfect."

  Juan heard Mingyu call back her Chinese shipmates, and they laid some sort of false bottom on top of Juan. He heard it click into place. Then he heard a series of thumps, and he guessed that they were piling merchandise on top of the false bottom, just in case some suspicious official ordered it opened.

  He then faintly heard Mingyu giving orders in Chinese, and suddenly he felt the chest lurch upwards. They were on the move....

  And as they moved, the chest bobbled, vertically and sideways. Juan started a silent prayer. The prayer included thanks that the room he had been sequestered in was on the ground floor of Mingyu's house.

  A few minutes later, the movement changed. Juan guessed that the chest had been placed on some sort of cart

  After what seemed like an eternity, but doubtless was more like half an hour, he felt the chest incline slightly. Presumably, they were now on the gangway leading from the dock to the deck of the chuan.

  The chest leveled and he could feel it be set down. "Now what?" Juan wondered.

  He heard some odd metallic sounds, and the next he knew, the chest swung sharply to one side and then dropped. "Madre Mia!" he exclaimed, and then bit his lip.

  Hopefully, there was no Japanese or Dutch soldier on deck. Or if there were, there was too much noise from the crew and the wind for Juan's exclamation to be heard. It was time for another silent prayer....

  At long last, Juan heard the chest opened, the legitimate contents taken out, and the false bottom removed. Juan didn't hear any Dutch or Japanese, but frankly, at this point he didn't care much whether he was being freed by Mingyu or by some hostile. All that mattered now was getting to breathe and move normally again.

  Light from a lantern suddenly flooded Juan's hiding place, and Juan turned his head and saw that the lantern was held by Mingyu. Juan Cardona took a series of deep breathers, and then Mingyu helped him clamber out of the chest. Every one of Juan's bones seemed to ache.

  "You'll feel better soon," she said, smiling at him. "Welcome to my family's ship, the Golden Venture."

  "However, I must warn you, in a few hours we will be passing Corregidor. There are Dutch ships patrolling the entrance to Manila Bay and they might decide to board us."

  Juan grimaced. "So I will need to get back into the damned chest?"

  "Oh, no. that is only for getting between ship and shore. There is a secret compartment in the hold; much more comfortable than the chest, I am told. I will show you how to open and close it, from both outside and inside."

  "A secret compartment?"

  "Yes, for the movement of goods and persons without the inconveniences which governments seek to impose. One part of the family business."

  "Your family are smugglers?"

  "As I said, that's one part of the family business. We also used to engage in the liberation of goods from those who don't know how to take proper care of them."

  "Your family were pirates?" Juan's eyes were wide.

  "Yes. Well, it depends on circumstances. Sometimes we trade, sometimes we smuggle, and sometimes we pirate. I mean, we used to. The Huangs gave their allegiance to the pirate king, Zheng Zhilong. When he decided it was more profitable to become an admiral and clear the seas of the competition, we followed his lead. So now we only attack ships that have failed to obtain a license to sail from the Zheng family.

  "So, my father is a pirate captain. Excuse me, an ex-pirate. And you are now a part of his crew. Temporarily, at least." She narrowed her eyes. "I hope you know how to obey orders."

  "Where are we sailing?" asked a somewhat subdued Juan.

  "To Xiamen, to unload our cargo. And then we will go speak to my uncle, the admiral Zheng Zhilong, about what
has happened in Manila. He lives in Anhai, in-between Xiamen and Quangzhou."

  She demonstrated the workings of the secret compartment, and then, after closing it, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "My poor Juan, your life may seem to be at a low, but the admiral will help you, I am sure."

  He started to pull her into an embrace, but she squirmed away. "Not here, anyone could come down at any moment. This is my father's ship, and if he thinks your actions are improper he will have you thrown overboard.

  "There will be opportunity for cuddling once we are on land, but for now, you must be on your best behavior. And to keep you honest, not to mention dry, I am going above deck."

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Much to Juan's relief, it was unnecessary to avail himself of the dubious comforts of the secret compartment.

  He spent part of his time exploring the hold and when Mingyu came down again to check on him, he couldn't contain his curiosity. "I couldn't help but notice the rather eclectic assortment of goods you're carrying now. I would have thought your cargo would be mostly Chinese silk and porcelain."

  "That is indeed what we took with us to Manila," said Mingyu, to trade for your galleon silver. But once the invasion happened"--she shrugged--"there was no chance of that. And a Huang doesn't sail home with an unsold cargo if he, or she, can help it. So I waited until the Dutch and Japanese had tired of pillaging the walled city and then I offered my silk and porcelain for sale to them. And they gave me their loot in exchange."

  "Hopefully you won't be stopped and inspected by a Spanish costa garda. Your merchandise will look rather like a pirate's haul to them."

  "Hopefully the costa garda have more to worry about these days than a solitary junk," she retorted. "Anyway, we are coming up on Corregidor now... I am going back on deck, and I will call down if you need to hide."

  Chapter 9

  Once Corregidor sank below the horizon, Juan was allowed on deck. Mingyu insisted that he wear Chinese clothing, however, so he would not stand out if they were scanned by a Dutch officer with a spyglass. Juan complained when he was given boatman's clothing of the poorest sort: essentially a cloak and pants made of strips of some kind of leaf and a broad-brimmed hat of the same material.