by John Regan
Chapter 15
The ships now had frequent visitors from the shore and the captain general received them on the poop, seated them in velvet chairs like his own or on cushions or mats depending on their rank. Espinosa and Master Andrew repeated their demonstrations of European invincibility while the captain general reassured his guests that his men were implacable towards enemies but kind to friends.
Humabon’s nephew, who was also his son-in-law and hence a prince, or datu, came with a gift of two goats and a pig, for which the captain general thanked them. Three chieftains accompanied him and they listened to the captain general discourse on the Christian God, who had made heaven and Earth, the sea and all things; achievements far beyond those of Abba, who had only created these islands. “We are all descended from Adam and Eve and are all born with an immortal soul, he explained,” with Henriqué translating, “and if your soul is not to burn forever in hellfire then you must embrace the Lord Our God and his holy son, Jesus Christ.”
He asked who would succeed Humabon when he died, for death comes to all, and was told the rajah had no sons, which is why his nephew had married his eldest daughter so as to become prince.
“Then that is all the more important for you and the rajah both to be anointed in the Christian church, so the line continues through the grace of God. If you wish to become Christians so your sons may succeed you, then you must be baptised and take part in Holy Communion and other mysteries of our faith.”
“Yes, yes,” said the prince, “I wish to become Christian but I must speak with my uncle, the rajah.”
“You must not become Christian out of fear but only because you believe in the love of Jesus Christ, our Lord and Saviour. And remember, that once you become Christian you must not have intercourse with any pagan woman, for that is a sin.”
The prince and the chieftains were even prepared to give up the pleasure of sex for the joy of salvation and the captain general gave the prince a robe made of fine, white linen and other presents for the chieftains.
Henriqué and Pigafetta accompanied them ashore with a Turkish robe of yellow silk, glass beads, Venetian glass and other things on a silver tray as presents for the rajah. They found him in his palace seated on his cushion with several men around him and platters of food and jars of wine before them. It seemed to be a never-ending banquet here.
Henriqué bowed with his hands clasped in a gesture of obeisance and Pigafetta followed suit.
“My captain general thanks you for your gift,” Henriqué said, “and sends you this unworthy present.”
He put the robe around the rajah’s shoulders and the beads around his neck while Pigafetta placed the silver tray at the rajah’s feet.
Humabon merely nodded in acknowledgement and the prince began telling him about his decision to become Christian, at which Humabon frowned. He took a sip of wine, and chewed on a drumstick, then took more wine, which seemed to be his solution to most problems.
The prince finished his dissertation and abruptly turned to leave, beckoning Pigafetta and Henriqué to join him, leading them to his own house, a short walk from the palace and not as big but well built and raised above the ground like the others.
“My uncle will accept your god,” the prince said. “He just needs time. Meanwhile, we relax.”
They sat on cushions as before and a servant brought wine and the prince ordered food and then clapped his hands and Pigafetta was astonished when four beautiful girls, naked from the waist up, entered with gongs and an instrument like a xylophone and began to sing and dance and play.
Soon Henriqué and then Pigafetta joined the dance, pausing only to take a sip of wine and a bite of food, until Pigafetta fell exhausted on the cushions. One of the girls squatted beside him and fumbled with the sash at his waist.
“What are you doing?”
“Just looking.”
“What for?”
“Does the white man have palang?”
“What is palang?”
Her explanation was too much for Pigafetta’s grasp of the language and, while he hitched up his pants, Henriqué explained that the palang was an instrument for the pleasure of women worn by many men in these islands. It was a pin, usually of gold but sometimes of tin, that pierced the private member from one side to the other. On each end was a spur, or sometimes a bell. When the couple wish to fornicate, the private member is inserted into the female nature while still soft. When it is inside it stiffens and remains so for as long as they wish, which is sometimes three or four hours. They have to wait for the member to go soft again or else they could not get it out. A man without a palang is not desirable and sometimes the woman will refuse to lie with him.
“Barbarous!” Pigafetta said. “I never heard of such a thing, not even in Venice.”
He knew that men had as many wives as they wanted but one chief wife, and he wondered, but did not ask, whether these girls were the prince’s junior wives and Humabon’s daughter, who was nowhere to be seen, the principal wife.
The girl still squatted beside him, pouting in disappointment, her honey-brown body shining with anointed oil. Her hand went back to the sash around his waist and Pigafetta’s hand went exploring between her thighs. As a result of this scientific research he concluded that these women were fundamentally no different from European, Brasilian and Patagonian women.
A few crew members still suffered the effects of scurvy and two of them died overnight. It was the duty of Henriqué and Pigafetta, who acted as the ship’s messengers, to ask the rajah where the deceased could be buried. The ground would have to be consecrated by the priest and crosses erected to mark the graves. Actually, the captain general had chosen the place, the public square, and merely wanted confirmation. The public square was the best place to expose the natives to Christianity.
“We shall first establish a burial ground and then a church,” he said to Valderrama, “where we shall do the baptisms. Once we have consecrated the ground, it is like a little corner of the Kingdom of God.”
The priest nodded agreement, assembled his holy accoutrements and accompanied the bodies ashore on the first of many boat trips bringing the ships’ companies to attend this service meant to open the eyes of Humabon and his people to the mysteries of the Christian faith. By the time the graves were dug and the congregation assembled, Humabon, his chieftains and many of his people had also come to watch. They gazed in silence as the priest in his white chasuble and strange hat delivered the mass in verses in an unknown language, repeated in a rumble of deep voices by the sailors on their knees. The wailing lament of the funeral chant, the frequent gesture of the sign of the cross, the smell of smoky incense that wafted over the ground and, finally, the reverence with which the bodies wrapped in sailcloth were laid to rest in deep graves and the consecrated earth piled on top, all made a huge impression on the watchers: earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, watched over by the wooden crosses. Death seemed to be a major business for these Christians.
After the ceremony, the rajah, the prince and several chieftains came to the captain general and the prince said, “The rajah is most impressed by your dance. He wishes to know more about your Christian faith, as do I.”
“The Lord be praised. Come to my ship each day and my priest and I will instruct you in the scriptures. Meanwhile, I wish to set up a trading post on the shore. Perhaps the rajah can let me have a house to store our goods.”
“Of course, but you must pay rent.”
“Of course.”
With such an amicable agreement, the ships brought their real trade items ashore: axes, knives, hammers and nails made of iron; plates, knives, forks, cups, tankards made of pewter; pumps, wheels, pulleys, hinges made of bronze; pots and pans made of copper. The trading post was a house fronting the public square and shared by the three ships. Clerks were appointed to record transactions and ensure an orderly business. When the captain general showed the rajah the store full of merchandise he was amazed and very impressed.
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br /> For brass, bronze and iron, the natives paid in gold in about the ratio of ten weights of gold to fourteen weights of iron, measured carefully on scales indicating they were accustomed to this kind of trade.
“Be sure not to trade too much gold in case it drives the price up,” the captain general warned the traders. “Better to trade Turkish robes, woven cloth and Venetian glass for rice, pigs, goats and other food.”
Duarte and John Serrano both disagreed with this policy.
“Brother-in-law, gold is never going to be cheaper than in these islands, where they pick it up off the ground.”
“Patience, Duarte. We can’t eat gold. I am looking to the future, when these islands become colonies of Spain and a source of gold for many years. Our first need is food; sufficient to get us back to Spain if necessary. We still don’t have enough. There is no point in driving up the price of gold if we starve in the meantime. You have seen what starvation does to our men.”
“And another thing,” Duarte said. “All this religion is just a distraction. I mean, why not just leave the priest to convert them so we can get on with trading? We still have to get to the Spice Isles.”
“The priest will play his part but the job is too big for one man. And it’s not just religion. The head of the Holy Roman Empire is also king of Spain. If we capture these islands for the church, we also capture them for Spain.”
“Or vice versa.”
“Or vice versa, as you rightly say. Either way, we have to bring Humabon and his people into the fold. Once we baptise the rajah, his people will follow.”
“I still think it’s a waste of time.”
With all the traffic back and forth between the ships and the trading post, the sailors now mixed freely with the people and some even took wives, although none volunteered for the palang. Pigafetta observed all, and recorded it in his journal. He attended the funeral of a chieftain in a house smoky with incense and crowded with women. The body, anointed with camphor, lay in an open coffin and the women, all dressed in white, sat on mats around it, each with a servant to fan her with a palm frond.
The dead man’s principal wife lay on top of the body, her mouth against his, her hands in his and her feet touching his. While another wife cut off the dead man’s hair, the principal wife sang a dirge, and then the wives put a lid on the coffin and closed it up with wooden pegs. After four or five days’ mourning they would bury it in the ground. The principal wife told Pigafetta that a black bird as big as a crow would come that night and sit on the roof and shriek. Dogs would howl for four or five hours and this was Abba calling for the soul of the dead man. For a funeral in this land, the role of the priest is taken by the dead man’s wives, who also make sacrifices to the idols of Abba, although for what purpose Pigafetta could not fathom. The idols were seen beneath almost every house and beside every pathway. They were made of a hollow log painted all over in different colours, having arms and face and legs and four fangs like the tusks of a boar. The captain general regarded these heathen idols as an affront and an abomination.
On Friday, two weeks after Good Friday, the rajah agreed to become a Christian and the captain general was overjoyed. Now the ground consecrated for burials could be utilised for a tabernacle like the one at Port St Julian, with a platform adorned with hangings and palm fronds for the baptism on Sunday. For such a great event, the captain general dressed in biblical white robes, like the priest, and required fifty musketeers in their best clothes and two men in armour to carry the royal standard. All the sailors from the ships except those needed to tend the anchor came ashore in boats and gathered on the beach. When the musketeers arrived they fired their muskets all together, which was a signal for the ships to fire their cannons with a booming noise and a cloud of blue smoke. The captain general had sent warning to the rajah that the cannons would be fired but the ordinary people who gathered to watch had received no warning and were frightened, and many fled into the forest.
To trumpets and drums, the procession marched up the beach and across the square with the royal standard held aloft, the priest swinging his censer and the captain general with a look of adoration on his face. The captain general and the rajah and the prince embraced, and then the captain general led the rajah by the hand to the font in the tabernacle, where the priest asked, with Henriqué translating, “Do you believe in God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Ghost?” and so Humabon was baptised into Mother Church in the name Carlos, like the emperor.
The captain general embraced Humabon again and they sat in red and violet velvet chairs. The captain general thanked God for inspiring Humabon to become Christian and said he would now more easily conquer his enemies than before.
Unfortunately, several of Humabon’s chieftains had not seen the light and refused the offer of baptism.
“Call them, Rajah, and I will speak with them.”
While they waited, Magellan described the glories of Spain, the Cathedral of the Giralda in Seville, the great power of Don Carlos, who commanded many fleets bigger than the Armada de Moluccas and also armies that marched across Europe and others that laid claim to the Americas.
“Indeed, your king is a great lord,” Humabon agreed.
When the recalcitrant chieftains were assembled, the captain general addressed them sternly.
“Your rajah has agreed to baptism in the Christian faith and acceptance of my king, Don Carlos, as his lord. It is your duty to follow the example of your rajah. It is written in our scriptures, submit yourselves to every ordinance of man for the Lord’s sake, whether it be to the king, as supreme, or to governors. If you do not obey your king you commit a grave sin and must be punished. If you do not embrace the Christian faith like your rajah, you will be put to death and all your goods forfeit to the rajah.”
The chieftains required not very long to change their minds and all promised to follow the rajah in baptism. The rajah raised his clasped hands to the sky and praised Abba for this news, but Henriqué translated it as Dios.
“Your rajah will become the greatest king in these islands because he is the first to become Christian, and now all Christians must destroy the pagan idols of Abba and replace them with the sign of the cross. All Christians must make the sign of the cross each morning when waking and say three Hail Maries.”
The prince was baptised in the name Ferdinand, who was the emperor’s brother, then the chieftains one after the other received baptismal names of dukes and grandees of Spain, and then the common people coming forward were baptised in batches, with Magellan and Valderrama both sprinkling water without the formality of the oath since there were so many of them. They created dozens of Juans, Pablos, Panchos and Cristóbals. Even a Moor from the ship from Siam, who had remained in Cebu to trade, was baptised, and this was a great triumph because Moors are harder to convert than pagans.
After luncheon came the turn of the women, first of whom was the rani, or queen; young and beautiful unlike her husband, wearing white silk embroidered in gold and a hat like the pope’s made of palm leaves. She was baptised in the name Juana, after the emperor’s mother, who was insane, keeping her husband’s corpse beside her bed in expectation that he would come back to life. Forty chieftains’ wives were baptised and then hundreds more women and children until no one knew how many were Christians or how many understood what they had pledged, and, afterwards, the ships fired their artillery to celebrate the great occasion, and more women ran into the forest.
The captain general set out to baptise all the people and travelled across the island. In each place, a mass was said, a cross erected and any images of Abba torn down and burned, for which purpose the captain general carried a tinder box. The inhabitants of entire villages were baptised without instruction in the scriptures and without their even knowing it. By the end of a week, new Christians numbered in their thousands but Humabon was not satisfied.
“Captain General,” he said after mass one morning, “yonder island of Mactan has two rajahs, Zula and Lapu
-lapu. Zula is my friend and agrees to become Christian but Lapu-lapu is my enemy and defies your king, Don Carlos.”
“No one defies Don Carlos. Where lives this Lapu-lapu?”
“On the island of Mactan, just across the water,” said Humabon, pointing. “Here is Rajah Zula, who can show you the way.”
He introduced Rajah Zula, a younger man equally adorned with gold jewellery.
“Do you believe in God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Ghost? Magellan asked.”
“I do.”
“I baptise thee in the name Miguel,” said the captain general, making the sign of the cross. “Now show me this rebel.”
Magellan took two boatloads of armed men through the channel between the islands and landed on a beach where Zula said his own territory ended and Lapu-lapu’s began. Zula led the way by forest paths to a village he called Bulaia, a collection of thatch houses amid lazy palls of blue smoke from cooking fires and cries of contented cockerels. Dogs barked on their approach and Magellan called a halt while people emerged from their houses to investigate. Right in the path was a prominent idol of Abba; clear evidence of their pagan status.
The captain general arranged his troops into two ranks and instructed them to cock their crossbows.
“Is there a head man of the village?” he asked Zula.
“Yes, captain general. His name is Taniban and he lives in that big house.”
Zula pointed to a house distinguished from the rest only by being slightly larger.
Leaving one rank of his troops where they were, Magellan led the other nearer to the village, whereupon most of the villagers fled into the trees, clutching their children to them. An old man with a tattooed face, the head man, Taniban, emerged from the indicated house and waited for the invaders to approach. Once he recognised Zula, he spat on the ground, a blob as red as blood.
“Zula!”
Rapid conversation between Zula and Taniban led to tempers rising and arms gesticulating, which Henriqué did not even try to interpret.
“Captain General,” Zula said, “he refuses to accept Humabon, yourself, your king or your god as his master.”
“Then tell him he shall pay the consequences.”
Whatever Taniban thought the consequences might be, he spat on the ground in contempt.
The captain general produced his tinder box from under his vest and gave it to the nearest sailor.
“Make me a torch,” he said.
The sailor gathered dry sticks and leaves, huddled over the tinder box and soon kindled a fire. He handed the captain general a flaming torch.
“Last chance,” Magellan said. “Surrender your soul to God Almighty and accept Don Carlos as your lord or pay the consequences.”
Taniban spat on the ground again and the captain general tossed the torch on to his house, which immediately ignited. In a paroxysm of rage, Taniban launched himself at the captain general, who easily brushed him aside to be dealt with by his troops. Burning embers wafted into the next house, and the next, and the heat was so intense that they backed away with arms covering their faces, then turned and ran from the inferno. Magellan picked up the image of Abba and hurled it into the fire and then set up a cross, which had been brought for the purpose, in its place.
When news of this event passed around the fleet, Duarte and John Serrano made a special visit to Trinidad, separate from their regular dining engagements.
“Brother-in-law, what do you think you’re doing? Is this the way to make friends with the people?”
“We have made friends with the Christian rajah by striking at his enemy. To all things there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven; a time to love and a time to hate, a time of war and a time of peace.”
“Don’t quote the bible at me. We came here to trade, not to love or hate or make war or peace and not to convert the natives.”
“Ferdinand, I think it is unwise to get involved in the local wars,” Serrano said. “Remember Juan de Solìs. We could finish up getting eaten.”
“These people are not cannibals. They are intelligent and rational and perfectly capable of accepting the teachings of Jesus Christ. Almost civilised.”
“Almost civilised but not quite, and lucky for them.”
The news also carried to Rajah Humabon and after mass next morning he congratulated the captain general and thanked him for punishing the rebellious Lapu-lapu.
“Meanwhile, please accept these few tokens of my gratitude.”
He presented the captain general with a set of gold earrings and bracelets like the ones he wore himself, so that Magellan would now be considered a rajah.
“I thank you, Rajah, but my reward is not gold, but our great friendship. But one thing bothers me. When I walk around among the people I still see images of the hateful Abba, and people making sacrifices to this heathen idol. When you became a Christian you promised to put away all heathen images and it has not happened.”
“Forgive me, Captain General. It is not for my sake but for my nephew, the prince’s brother. He is badly ill and has not spoken for four days, and for this reason we make sacrifices to Abba, as has always been our custom.”
“Sacrifices to Abba will not cure him. If he believes in Jesus Christ Our Lord and destroys the idols and if he consents to be baptised in the Christian faith he will be cured immediately. If this prophecy does not come to pass, then you may cut off my head.”
Humabon agreed to this extreme bargain and they went in procession from the tabernacle to the sick man’s house; the captain general in his biblical robes with a crucifix at his belt attended by Henriqué, as always, for translation; by Humabon, his chieftains and the prince, and, as always, by a retinue of children and dogs.
The sick man lay on a woven mat in his elevated house, his two wives and ten children clustered around him with deep concern on their faces. He tossed restlessly and moaned in the grip of some mysterious disease, not unlike a man dying of scurvy although he did not show the symptoms of purple bruises and bleeding gums.
The captain general kneeled beside him to examine him more closely while Humabon, his chieftains, Henriqué, Pigafetta and the wives and children watched. The sick man opened his eyes, shut them and then opened them again in fright of this black-bearded apparition with eyes that seemed to blaze with an inner fire. The apparition made the sign of the cross, pronounced some unintelligible words and sprinkled him with water from a container at his belt. Then another man, a proper person, said with a strange accent, “I baptise thee in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost. Accept Jesus Christ as your saviour and earn everlasting life.”
Then the apparition stood up and turned into a giant that seemed to hover in the air. It said more words and the other person asked, “Are you well?”
“Yes, yes,” the sick man said and scrabbled with his legs to push himself away from the black-bearded ghost. He tried to sit up but failed and fell back, exhausted.
Astonishment was palpable in the air. This man had not spoken in four days and yet at the command of the black-bearded one had broken his silence. The two wives threw themselves upon him and the ten children threw themselves upon the wives; Humabon gaped and even the captain general looked surprised.
“Hallelujah, brothers,” he cried. “He speaks. Let us offer thanks to the Lord for this miracle in our time.”
He went down on his knees, clasped his hands before him and recited a psalm of David, “Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful, but his delight is in the Lord and in His law doth he meditate day and night.”
The captain general made the sick man drink coconut milk, the treatment that seemed to work in curing scurvy, and then baptised the two wives and ten children. In jubilation, the procession returned to the palace, where Humabon ordered a feast.
The captain general visited the sick man each morning after mass and brought him rosewater and a littl
e of the quince jam that still survived in his stock of food. Each day when he walked through the town his retinue grew as his fame spread among the people. Within five days, the sick man began to walk and Magellan’s fame exceeded that of Abba so the people themselves destroyed the heathen idols wherever they were to be found, even one belonging to the queen in Humabon’s palace. The sick man discovered an effigy of Abba in his own house, believed to have been placed there by old women who hated him, probably the source of his illness.
This was clear proof that Magellan’s power exceeded Abba’s and, at least in certain eyes, he was elevated to godhood.
“Captain General” Humabon said, “It is my great honour to offer you the insignia of a rajah and this morning have ordered my craftsmen to make for you a gold necklace with emeralds and rubies, such as rajahs wear, and it shall be my gift to you and an everlasting symbol of my love.”
The public square, with its tabernacle on one side, trading post on another, not far from the rajah’s palace, lay at the centre of the armada’s activities. While Magellan’s were based on the tabernacle, those of Barbosa and Serrano were concerned with trade. Despite Magellan’s fear, the price of gold had fallen to equal that of iron, or the price of iron had risen. Despite his warning, sailors slept with pagan women. Despite his fervour, his senior officers saw religion as a distraction from the main game.
Zula, the Christian chief of Mactan who opposed Lapu-lapu, came to the trading post with a present of two goats for the captain general and the complaint that Lapu-lapu still defied him, despite his punishment, and therefore defied the captain general and Don Carlos.
“My warriors are not enough to defeat Lapu-lapu,” he said, “but with the help of Humabon and with your men and muskets and cannons he can be brought to submission.”
The idea of a Christian force against the heathen immediately appealed to the captain general but the armada, with its obviously superior gun power and its all but invincible armoured soldiers with musket and crossbow could certainly overcome a tribe of uncivilised savages.
“Yes, we shall bring Lapu-lapu to account but your assistance will not be required. My men and my ships can discipline him.”
All trade had come to a halt. Magellan, Zula and Henriqué stood in the middle of a ring of watchers, half European and half native, each receiving one side of the conversation through the interpreter.
“Brother-in-law, this is none of our business. Leave the natives to fight their own wars,” Duarte said.
“It is not just a war between native tribes but between Christian and heathen; between the word of God and pagan idolatry; between good and evil.”
“We are not going to fight the Crusades all over again. And, anyway, you call them Christians when all that has happened is you sprinkled water on them and gave them another name. I’m sure they have no idea what that is all about.”
Serrano said, “Ferdinand, how many men are you going to put up against this Lapu-lapu? Do you have any idea how many warriors he has and what weapons?”
“I have been on Mactan Island. They have no defences; only thatch villages…”
“Which you burned down…”
“No defences, no knowledge of modern warfare and their weapons are merely bamboo spears.”
“Captain General,” said Espinosa, the master-at-arms, “if you take men off the ships to fight this war on land, the ships will be undefended and without even enough men to sail them, since we have already lost so many.”
Even Pigafetta added his voice to the chorus of dissent.
“Might it not be wise to consider, Captain General, and perhaps a different decision can be made tomorrow?”
“My mind is made up. We shall send three longboats against the heathen but I will command no man in this. I shall call for volunteers as soldiers of Christ.”
One of Humabon’s chieftains also added his comment.
“Captain General, the rajah will rejoice at this news. I shall inform him immediately.”
Preparations for war continued through the afternoon aboard Trinidad. Humabon, the prince and several chieftains came aboard and pledged their support in twenty or thirty war canoes and Zula promised five or ten.
“I thank you for your offer but it will not be necessary,” the captain general said. “My men are Spanish lions, protected not only by their armour but also by God.”
He called for volunteers from Victoria and Concepción as well as his own ship and, one by one, they came forward – a few men-at-arms but mainly stewards, ships’ boys and servants left over from Cartagena’s regime – amateurs who required basic lessons in sword play, musket and crossbow from Espinosa. Each of the volunteers was fitted with body armour, not just for demonstration purposes this time but for real combat. As Duarte pointed out to them, they had better make sure they didn’t fall in the water.
As the day progressed, Pigafetta became more apprehensive and less convinced of the wisdom of this adventure and it was nearly supper time before he presented himself to the captain general and said, “Captain General, will you not reconsider and take the advice of your captains to desist?”
“I march in the name of God, Pigafetta; in the name of Truth and Righteousness.”
“Can nothing change your mind?”
“Nothing.”
“Then with great reluctance I volunteer to join your army, and may God protect us.”
“God will protect us, never fear. Pray with me, Pigafetta.”
This time they prayed on their knees not for forgiveness but for strength.
After supper, the captain general instructed the priest to conduct Holy Communion for his army and Pigafetta took the flesh and blood of Our Lord, reflecting on Carvalho’s comment that the cannibals of Brasil take the sacrament after the battle and not before.
At midnight, sixty armoured men in three boats, more than one third of the ships’ complements, cast off and proceeded down the channel between Mactan and Cebu that Pigafetta and the captain general had travelled two weeks before. The breeze was too light to drive the heavy longboats and men laboured at the oars with a rhythmic thumping and the squeak of leather against wood in a space cramped by the confusion of crossbows and muskets.
In the near-full moon a month after Easter, the shore on either side was visible in silhouette and narrow strips of sand marked the line of demarcation between land and sea. Full moon meant spring tides and the stream ran faster than before and progress was slower than planned. Trinidad, Victoria and Concepción, with only skeleton crews on board, heaved up their anchors and set their sails, which barely filled in the light airs so the bluff-bowed, clumsy ships made slow headway.
It was about three hours before the little armada arrived off that part of Mactan Island regarded as Lapu-lapu’s territory. The rowing watch had changed three times and Pigafetta’s arms already ached. The captain general, on the steering oar, called across the water for Humabon’s boat, nearby, to approach. The rajah’s boat carried the Moor who had been baptised on the same day as Humabon, and who spoke a smattering of Portuguese. The captain general now called on him to deliver a message to Lapu-lapu.
“Tell the renegade that he can avoid war if only he swears allegiance to Don Carlos and consents to be baptised in the Christian faith. In that case, we shall be friends but, if not, he will learn the sharpness of Christian swords by painful experience.”
Humabon’s canoe edged closer to shore, where the messenger climbed out and waded the rest of the way to the beach.
While they waited, the captain general repeated his earlier instructions. “In any military action, discipline is of supreme importance. You must follow my orders without question.”
Raw recruits were given final lessons in how to cock their crossbows or reload their muskets, which they now did with more seriousness than they had in the afternoon. The musketeers received yet another warning to keep their powder dry. Finally, the captain general made the sign of the cross over them and said, “May God go with y
ou,” which only made them more nervous.
Lapu-lapu’s reply, when it came, was defiant. His lances were made of stout bamboo, he boasted, and he had stakes hardened with fire, but he requested Magellan to wait for daylight before attacking, an absurd proposition that the captain general brushed aside. The first hint of dawn already touched the eastern sky and the cover of night was slipping away.
The spring tide uncovered numerous coral heads, seen as dark shapes by the last light of the moon, which also showed the vague outlines of the three ships of the armada, now anchored far offshore where their cannons could not be brought to bear. Pigafetta tried once more to dissuade the captain general.
“Captain General, please, please; without the cannons we have no advantage. Your own plan is now wrecked.”
“We have stout-hearted men in armour with swords of Toledo steel and the Lord God Almighty as their shield. The Lord’s will be done.”
He once again ordered Humabon and Zula to stay clear of the fighting and then climbed over the side into thigh deep water, drew his sword and set out wading towards the dark outline of Mactan Island, “Follow me in the name of the Lord!” He pointed the way with his sword.
Eleven men were left to guard the boats and 49 staggered, stumbled, slipped and slid across the jagged coral reef. Pigafetta stayed close behind the captain general, step by dogged step, his own sword in hand, his armour a dead weight on his shoulders. As they reached ankle-deep shallows, the sky had lightened enough to show a village among the trees, possibly the village of Opon, and also a horde of Lapu-lapu’s men farther up the shore, who broke into loud shouts when they sighted the invaders.
The captain general paused, surveying the village.
“We shall have that village for a distraction,” he said, and withdrew his tinder box from the vest beneath his armour. He detailed off four of his men. “Take this tinder box. I want you to set fire to that village, but beware; Lapu-lapu mentioned stakes hardened with fire. That could mean a palisade. When the village is well alight, come back to your post here. Move quickly.”
The four men set off in a crouching run towards the village, soon reaching the cover of the trees. It was likely they had not been seen by Lapu-lapu’s men, who had divided into three platoons. Pigafetta was shocked by their number; not a few dozen as anticipated but well over a thousand, outnumbering the Christians by at least twenty to one. They seemed to have no leader but were just a mob.
“Break into two squads,” the captain general ordered. “Equal crossbows and muskets on each flank. Hold your fire. Keep your powder dry.”
The troop reorganised, with a phalanx of crossbows and muskets on each side and resumed the slow, deliberate advance upon the enemy, who leaped and shouted wildly as if in some mad dance. When he judged the enemy to be in range, the captain general ordered a volley of musket fire to the count of one, two, three. About one third of them fizzled in the pan; the rest performed as expected but to little effect. In his first show of emotion, the captain general snarled, “I told you to keep your powder dry.”
Shocked by the noise and smoke, the enemy fell silent momentarily, but the volley seemed to have produced no casualties and they resumed their gesticulations. A second volley caused hardly any interruption although two men fell down, and a third prompted a hail of stout bamboo spears, as Lapu-lapu had promised, although all fell short.
They pressed on to within crossbow range and the deadly bolts were successful, passing through the natives’ wooden shields. The attack paused while the natives tried to understand the short, featherless arrows that hummed like bees. The crossbow was quicker to recock than the musket and a second volley produced consternation, and it seemed the crossbow had gained a real advantage for the outnumbered sailors.
The scouts sent to create the distraction accomplished their task and the thatch village burst into flames, which rapidly spread. This seemed to create further confusion in the enemy but it quickly turned to fury when they realised what had happened. With an enraged roar they surged forward, flinging spears, some of which now bounced off Spanish armour. Another volley of crossbow fire sent set them back, and for a while it seemed they were about to retreat, but then they charged like demons in overwhelming numbers on three sides, not only with spears but with swords, sticks, stones and some with blowpipes firing poisoned darts. Spears that fell short or bounced off armour were retrieved and used over and over again so they had an unlimited supply of ammunition.
“Cease fire!” Magellan ordered. “Use your swords.”
His men faltered, and three or four went down. Some dropped their muskets and drew their swords but others continued fumbling with clumsy weapons. When it came to hand-to-hand fighting, the invaders had a slight advantage but the natives soon learned to target unprotected legs.
The first to break and run was a cabin boy named Correa. He dropped his sword, turned and floundered through the water back towards the boats, but a spear took him in the back and he fell face down. Another followed, and then another. Magellan’s force was disintegrating and the enemy tasted victory, leaving him with no option.
“Retreat!” he ordered. “Do not turn your backs. Go for the boats.”
‘Retreat’ was a word that Pigafetta never thought he would hear from Magellan’s mouth, but he had taken a spear in his leg, wrenched it out and tried to staunch the flow of blood with one hand while wielding his sword in the other. Pigafetta slashed about himself wildly, half-blinded by blood from a wound in his forehead. Back by backwards steps he and the captain general and half a dozen stalwarts fought off the screaming berserkers, fighting for time to allow their men to reach the boats.
“Go, Pigafetta,” the captain general said. “Go for the boats.”
“You come, Captain General.”
“Go, Pigafetta. Do what you’re told!”
“Come, Captain General.”
Go, Pigafetta. Go! Go! Go!”
Finally, the captain general stood alone to face an army. With whoops and yells, they stabbed and hacked and the water turned red with his blood and his body was lost to the sea.
