The Chrysanthemum, the Cross, and the Dragon

by Iver P. Cooper

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  The Chinese called Xiamen the "Gate of China," but few Europeans, mostly missionaries, had ever seen it. Juan, therefore, was very curious about it.

  Mingyu had shown Juan one of her father's maps of the area. Juan thought that Xiamen Island in outline looked like the head of some beast with a short snout but powerful jaws, facing west. The chin then was the town of Xiamen, and the evilly smiling mouth was a deep, narrow inlet, Yunlang, leading northeast. When Juan had asked why the port wasn't located at the head of this inlet, Mingyu explained that it was a mere a tidal flat, navigable only by small boats at high tide. It was, indeed, shallower now than it had been a century ago, and most likely would one day far in the future be just dry land.

  The town of Xiamen nonetheless had a deep harbor, one of the best in the world, as it was protected by Gulangyu, the Island of Drumming Waves, a half mile away to the southwest, as Mingyu was quick to point out.

  "And even though Xiamen is smaller than Fuzhou, which is the capital of Fujian province, we have three times as many trading junks," Mingyu said proudly.

  "What do you export?" Juan asked.

  Mingyu thought for a moment. "Tea, of course. Bricks, shoes, umbrellas, crockery, and iron utensils. Religious icons.

  "Of course, not all of these ships are from Xiamen." The junks from different ports in China each had distinctive design features, which Mingyu knew like the back of her hand. "The ship unloading there--it's a coasting junk from Fuzhou; it will probably be bringing oranges." She smacked her lips in anticipation. "That bigger one alongside it is from Ningpo; it will be carrying cotton and furs.

  'When the southwest monsoon arrives, we will see ships from the lands of the Nguyen and Trinh lords, from the kingdom of Ayutthaya, and from Malacca and Batavia."

  "The Dutch are allowed to come here? After sponsoring piracy against you?"

  Mingyu shook her head. "No, those will be Fujianese ships that took goods to Batavia and have a return cargo. Grain, sea cucumbers, and various fragrant woods."

  While her father supervised the unloading of the Golden Venture's cargo, Mingyu and Cut-Nose took Juan sightseeing. In some parts, Xiamen was the Parian of Manila writ large: here, as there, were narrow streets with a multitude of shops, restaurants, and great crowds of people. But away from the immediate port area, Juan saw wider avenues lined with coconut, areca palm, mango, and banyan trees, and one totally unfamiliar to Juan: the "flame tree," with fern-like leaves that Mingyu likened to the tail of the phoenix.

  "If only we were here in the summer," said Mingyu. "That's when its yellow flowers come into bloom. Or in the fall, when it displays little seed capsules that look like rose colored paper lanterns."

  In Manila, the Chinese were fishermen, farmers, sailors, tradesmen, and petty merchants, and dressed accordingly. But here in Xiamen, Juan saw mandarins, scholars, soldiers, and upper-class women. Well, he saw elegant palanquins, which Mingyu told him were carrying such women.

  At sunset, Mingyu and Cut-Nose took Juan to a hill that overlooked the great Yunlang inlet. Here, there were thousands of egrets, fishing by the waning light of the setting sun.

  Once the sun had set, they went to Captain Huang's favorite inn to meet up with him. The inn had a tavern associated with it, and its specialty was meat pies, especially pork and mutton.

  The only wine available, Juan discovered, was rice-wine, as the grape was not grown in Fujian. Still, it was enough to render him pleasantly tipsy, and Cut-Nose had to help him to their room. Juan and Cut-Nose had been assigned one room, and Mingyu and her father took another. Juan would have preferred a different arrangement but knew better than to say so.

  The next day, they took a sampan to Anhai. It was time to enter the dragon's lair.

  Zheng Compound, Anhai, China

  Juan and Mingyu entered the outer courtyard of Admiral Zheng Zhilong's home by its north gate. According to the principles of feng shui, the gate of a merchant house must face north, the direction associated with the element of metal. If its builders were so foolish as to erect it facing south, the direction of Fire, the merchant's coins would be melted and his wealth would disappear.

  Since Zheng Zhilong was no ordinary merchant, but also an admiral in the Ming navy, the buildings surrounding the outer courtyard were several stories tall, and the home was part of a much larger Zheng family complex that was encircled by a three-mile long wall. It included warehouses, guest quarters, offices, additional gardens, a tea-house, an armory, and even a small zoo. Since the Zheng family was of Hokkien descent, and very wealthy, the buildings all had swallowtail roofs.

  The outer courtyard had a garden and a fish pond, and Juan spent a few moments admiring the colors of the koi swimming in the latter. At last, he strolled to the south side of the courtyard, where the door to the inner hall was located. A picture of a tiger, its paws pointing toward a disk marked with eight trigrams, hung above that door and, more remarkably, a six-foot tall African stood just outside it.

  "I am Jelani, lieutenant in the admiral's Black Guard. You are expected, Lieutenant Cardona." He pushed back with one hand, opening the door for Juan.

  "The admiral's office is on the left, Lieutenant....." Juan entered, followed by Mingyu.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Juan was shocked to discover that Mingyu's "Uncle Dragon" was not much older than Juan himself: at a guess, perhaps thirty years old, whereas Juan was twenty-five and Mingyu nineteen. Zhilong wore a steel-gray blouse with a golden dragon embroidered on it and a martial-looking dark gray cap with gold trim. He had a short, triangular beard and a moustache and was taller than most of his countrymen. The table in front of him was bare save for a few writing implements. A calico cat snoozed in the pool of light cast by a flower-shaped latticework window, high on one wall, that faced the inner courtyard.

  Mingyu had told Juan quite a bit about Zheng Zhilong, albeit in a somewhat worshipful tone. Zhilong was from Anhai but had lived in both Macao and Hirado. After leaving Japan, Zhilong became first a privateer captain in Dutch service, preying on Chinese and Spanish ships, and then the commander of a large squadron of privateers. Before long, a Fujianese official referred to him as the "Great King of the Sea," and early in 1628 the Ming court had offered him a fleet command and put him to work suppressing other pirates. He prospered as both an admiral and the head of a trading (and smuggling) enterprise, an enterprise in which Mingyu and her father were quite deeply enmeshed.

  Anhai was an inland port, communicating by water with Xiamen, the "Gate of China." Every day ships sailed into or out of Xiamen harbor or other Fujianese ports, and all of the oceangoing vessels were either owned by the Zheng family or paid the Zhengs for a license to sail unhindered. As a result, the Zheng family was extremely wealthy, with an annual income of over ten million taels--greater, they thought, than that of the Dutch East India Company.

  So Zheng Zhilong had power. But would he have the desire to aid the Spanish?

  The admiral was the first to speak. "So, Lieutenant Cardona. You have come to me, as we Chinese say, by 'wading through scalding water and treading across burning flame.' "

  Zhilong spoke in Portuguese. Fortunately, Juan was from Galicia, the Spanish province north of Portugal, and spoke Galician, a language closely related to Portuguese, as well as the Castilian of Spanish officialdom.

  "I am amazed to be alive," admitted Juan.

  "And I gather that you would not be, save for the intervention of my 'niece,' Mingyu." He glanced in her direction, and she gave him a quick bow.

  "I freely admit it."

  "And why have you come to me?" asked Zhilong.

  "To seek aid for Manila, which has long been a good trading partner for China, against a common threat: Japan...." He continued in that vein for some minutes, without any interruption by the admiral.

  At last, Juan finished his plea for Chinese help against the Japanese invaders of the Philippines and bowed to Admiral Zheng Zhilong.

  Zheng Zhilong, Mingyu's "U
ncle Dragon," assumed a sorrowful expression. "I wish I could help you against the Japanese, Lieutenant Cardona, I really do. The silk-for-silver trade with Spanish in Manila is one of the mainstays of my business. But it's a business, and I am not going to go to war with the Japanese. Chances are that this invasion will cut off the flow of silver from across the ocean, and if so I will need to get silver from Japan.

  "Now, if I were the governor of the Philippines, I would pull back my forces from the periphery, from the Visayas and Taiwan and so on, and gather them all at Cebu, your old capital, and wait for reinforcements from the Manila Galleon. And then seek to retake Manila."

  "That sounds sensible," said Cardona.

  "It is the voice of experience," Zheng Zhilong assured him. "If you Spanish do not concentrate your forces, you will be defeated piecemeal. Your forts in Taiwan are especially vulnerable, as the Dutch have their own settlement on the island, and Taiwan is closer to Japan than are the Philippines themselves."

  "Alas, I am a mere lieutenant. I can only await orders."

  "A mere lieutenant!" exclaimed Zhilong. "I am shocked to hear you belittle yourself. Why, you may be the highest-ranking officer of the Manila garrison to escape the onslaught."

  "From what Mingyu told me, I am not surprised to hear you say that. Saddened, but not surprised."

  "Indeed. And what I suggest is that I take you to Keelung and Tamsui on Taiwan, to urge your people to evacuate those settlements, if they still exist, and move to Cebu. I would be happy to offer my assistance, of course. On reasonable terms, that is."

  "I am gratified by your concern for Spain," said Cardona, "but I fear that they will not accept your gracious offer of assistance without orders from the governor of the Philippines. Or if Mingyu is right that he is dead or captured, the acting governor, who would be, I think, the commandant of Cebu."

  Zheng Zhilong raised his eyes skyward. "Then we must pray that God in his wisdom guides the commandant of Cebu on this righteous path.

  "But I am sure you would rather be alone with my lovely kinswoman. Mingyu, please take Lieutenant Cardona into the inner courtyard; there are some relatives who will want to greet you. And then go to your father, and tell him to take you to Keelung as soon as possible. Lieutenant, make sure that they know of the fall of Manila, and urge them to evacuate to Cebu. Tell them that I can provide shipping. Indeed, I would be willing to provide them with such shipping in return for, say, the sale of northern Taiwan. That way, it will not fall into Dutch or Japanese hands!

  "I hope, for your countrymen's sake, that you are persuasive."

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Mingyu led Juan through the south door of the inner hall, into the inner courtyard. This had a central paved area with a fountain. Here a man who appeared to be about Juan's age was engaged in quarterstaff practice with a young boy. They were so engrossed in discussing some fighting maneuver that they failed to notice Mingyu's and Juan's appearance.

  "The man is Zheng Zhifeng, that is, my Uncle Feng the Phoenix," Mingyu whispered into Juan's ear. His ear tingled at the closeness of her lips. So did some other parts of his anatomy. "He is the third oldest of the Zheng brothers, after Uncle Dragon and Uncle Panther."

  The boy bowed to Uncle Phoenix, who returned the bow. Juan noticed with surprise that despite the difference in age between them, Feng's bow was almost as deep as the boy's had been. Clearly, the boy was of high status.

  "Who is the boy?"

  "Well, that's Uncle Dragon's only son. His mother named him 'Fukumatsu'--that's 'Pine Tree of Fujian' in her tongue."

  "That sounds Japanese."

  "It is." Mingyu made a moue. "I have never met her, but she is Lady Takata, the daughter of a samurai of the Matsuura clan. Before leaving Hirado, Uncle Dragon invited her to come to China to be his second wife, but she declined. In 1631, Uncle Dragon sent an envoy who told her about his rise in status and the advantages that Fukumatsu would gain by joining his household. She let him go, and here he is!

  "He is ten years old now, by your reckoning. We call him Da Mu: Big Tree."

  Zheng Zhifeng, "Feng the Phoenix," raised his staff to guard position. "Try again, Big Tree. I attack, you block."

  Big Tree, his nine-year-old nephew, nodded. He raised his own staff. "Ready."

  Feng thrust his weapon forward, while Big Tree swung against it, deflecting the attack.

  "Too slow, and then too much follow through," said Feng. "Do it again." The two repeated the drill.

  "Better. Not good, but better. Try again."

  After some minutes, Feng smiled. "Now you're getting the hang of it."

  He turned to face Juan and Mingyu. "Welcome back, Mingyu! Who's the foreign devil and why is he here?"

  Fortunately for Juan's peace of mind, this was said in Chinese, as was Mingyu's heated reply.

  "My very good friend Lieutenant Juan Cardona been given a mission by Uncle Dragon, so be nice," she admonished.

  "Oh...." Feng turned to Big Tree. "Say hello to Cousin Mingyu's friend from Manila, Lieutenant Juan Cardona."

  "Hallo, luitenant."

  "You speak Dutch," said Juan haltingly. He was not fluent in that language.

  "Ja, meneer. Ik kan het ook lezen en schrijven." He could read and write it, too.

  "Uncle Dragon encourages his family and employees to learn European speech," explained Mingyu.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Juan and Mingyu returned to the Golden Venture and told Captain Huang about Zheng Zhilong's orders. "Hermosa, eh? Hope the Dragon knows what he's doing. I have heard that the Spanish colony in the north is barely surviving.

  And you, young man, sooner or later, you'll have to choose between the Dragon and the king of Spain. And considering that your king has lost Manila and has many enemies in these waters—the Dutch, the Japanese, and the Moro Sultans—it may be wise for you to reconsider your allegiance."

  "For now, Spain's interests and the Dragon's are the same," Juan urged. "They both want to trade silver for silk, and they just need to find a safe place to do it. Perhaps it will be in Cebu, perhaps even in Keelung."

  "For your sake," said Captain Huang, "I hope you're right. But you better start thinking about what you'll do if your Spanish admiral disagrees."

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  "You called for me, Brother Dragon?" asked Yan the Swallow. He and Zheng Zhilong were sitting by the fountain in the inner courtyard of Zhilong's home.

  "Yes, Brother Swallow," said Zhilong. "I believe we still have agents in the parian on Cebu? Despite the decline in trade there?"

  "Of course," said Yan. "What needs to be done?"

  "Rumor mongering. About the vicious Dutch-Japanese assault on Manila. About the continued arrival of new ships and troops, as if further operations are planned. About the interrogation of the Spanish prisoners and the Chinese community leaders in Manila concerning the strengths of the Spanish defenses elsewhere in the Philippines, but particularly those of Cebu."

  "Not a problem." Yan snorted. "Some of those rumors might even be true."

  "Well, yes. As to that ... In Manila, there is a Japanese personage named Yosioka Kuzaemon. He was previously in surreptitious contact with Chinese residents who resented the treatment they received from the Spanish. I know we have our own contacts among the dissidents. Have them suggest to him that the Japanese and Dutch immediately send an emissary to demand the surrender of Cebu."

  Yan chuckled. "You are playing Three-Handed Xiangqi with the Spanish and Japanese." Xiangqi was Chinese chess.

  "Yes, and they don't even know that there's a third player yet."

  Anhai, China

  Juan stood on Anping Bridge. The stone bridge, the longest one in China, crossed the Shijing River and connected Anhai with Shuitou. There were five pavilions along its five li span, and Juan waited in the Shuixin pavilion, which stood on a small island. Stone generals leaned against each of the pillars of the pavilion, and red lanterns hung from its ceiling.

  Where was Mingyu? he wondered. She should h
ave been here an hour ago.

  Some minutes later, she finally arrived. Juan cut short the exuberant greeting he had been about to give her; he had never seen Mingyu look so grim. "What's wrong?"

  "I have lost a kinsman," she said, wiping away a tear.

  "Lost them? How?"

  "To treachery. You have heard of the pirate Liu Xiang?"

  "I am sorry, I haven't," said Juan. He moved to put his arm around Mingyu, but she shrugged it off.

  She took a deep breath and explained. "He was once a squadron commander under Uncle Dragon. When Uncle swore off piracy and became an admiral, Liu Xiang took his men and ships and went his own way. Before long, he teamed up with the Dutch of Taiwan, and together they raided the coasts of Guangdong and Fujian. Uncle Dragon defeated them all at the Battle of Liaoluo Bay, and Liu Xiang went south to lick his wounds.

  "Last month, Uncle Dragon sent Uncle Hu the Tiger and Uncle Bao the Panther to Guangzhou with several squadrons to find Liu Xiang and either bring him back into the fold or defeat him in battle. Liu Xiang invited Hu to his ship to parley. He agreed to terms and invited Hu on board for a celebratory feast. There, he killed Hu and his officers. At the same time, Liu Xiang's ships attacked ours without warning. We thought that they had just allied with us and thus weren't braced for attack.

  "Uncle Bao, fortunately, wasn't at the feast because he wasn't feeling well. He lost his ship but was rescued by another. Because of the northeast monsoon, word of this disaster traveled back here only slowly."

  "What will the admiral do?"

  "He will kill Liu Xiang, his family, and all his supporters, of course. But first he has to find them. They are no longer at Guangzhou, and they haven't been reported recently at any of Liu Xiang's known haunts along the Guangdong coast. Messengers and scouts have gone out, and every Chinese merchant who sails under our license will be watching and listening. "Perhaps he has taken refuge with the Dutch in Taiwan?"

  "That is possible, but there are other places. He could have gone further south to Hainan, or Vietnam, or Batavia, or turned east, hiding in the Pescadores or the Philippines. Anyway, before the main fleet can bring him to justice, Uncle Dragon must make sure that the defenses of Xiamen are adequate."