Chapter 284: Vanity at Sea

Andrade couldn’t bring himself to laugh. Just a few minutes ago, he was sitting on a comfortable sofa in the stern cabin, sipping a cool and delicious mojito, grateful to the Count for providing such a comfortable way to get to the shipyard, sparing him the pain of a long, bumpy ride along the seaside avenue. But the Count had shifted the conversation to the Malay pirates who were acting as tigers for the Dutch, threatening the security of the colony.

The more he spoke, the more agitated and indignant he became. “Do you know what I’d do if I met these savages? I’d crush them like bedbugs!” Andrade couldn’t even get a word in before the Count dragged him out of the cabin and onto the deck. The ship’s bell rang urgently, and a group of sailors surged up from the deck hatches like a wave. Their uniforms were neat, and though they moved quickly, there was no sign of disorder. The captain, who looked either Japanese or Chinese, barked orders in a strange language. A moment later, the short cannon at the bow had its cover removed and was loaded with ammunition. The gunner turned the wheel, and with a loud bang, the short barrel recoiled violently along its carriage. The canister shot hit the calm sea, and the water churned as if boiling.

From the ringing of the ship’s bell to the firing of the cannon, Andrade estimated it was only two or three minutes. The Count held a pocket watch, much smaller and more exquisite than a Nuremberg egg. The treasurer followed his gaze and looked up. The sails had been partially lowered, revealing the mast reinforced with iron hoops and a large fighting top, which was now filled with armed sailors holding muskets, ready to snipe any target that might appear.

Before its last return from Bopu, the Esmeralda had its armament replaced while undergoing maintenance at the naval shipyard. The 68-pounder carronade at the bow was replaced with a lighter 48-pounder. The weight saved was used to add Type 34 machine guns to the two fighting tops, replacing the Gatling guns. These weapons were either dismantled and hidden in the hold on Weiss’s orders or tightly wrapped in oiled canvas covers. Even a single solid shot from a 48-pounder carronade was impressive enough. A fleet of sailboats that had been heading towards the yacht was startled by the cannon fire and hastily turned, fleeing deep into Manila Bay. Weiss noticed that the ships were of various sizes, the largest seemingly one or two hundred tons, all of junk design, but with European square and lateen sails on their masts. Through his telescope, he could see a white flag with a red Burgundian cross flying from the masthead of each ship.

“So many strange and interesting ships,” the Count said, handing his telescope to the treasurer.

“Those are Mr. Delgado’s ships,” Andrade said. “He always buys old ships from the Chinese that are about to be scrapped, and those one-time trading ships are made of unseasoned wood. A little repair and they can be loaded and sent on their way. It’s very cheap, if you don’t count the cargo that sinks to the bottom with the rotten planks.”

“A few years ago, Mr. Delgado was the richest shipowner in the colony, but now he’s far behind Mr. Sanavria.”

“A wonderful businessman. And what kind of treasures would his ships be carrying?”

“Let me think… such ships can only sail on coastal routes between the islands,” the treasurer said, raising his telescope again. “It seems to be coming from the Visayas, and the cargo should be corn.”

“Corn?”

“His Excellency the Governor’s orders,” Andrade made a helpless gesture. “He ordered the transport of corn from the Visayas, as well as sweet potatoes. He’s even prepared to trade rice grown in Luzon for these things.”

“Damn it. If I gave the soldiers corn instead of bread and rice for dinner, they would surely mutiny. Corn, sweet potatoes, that stuff is only fit for horse feed.”

Andrade sincerely agreed. “This is a terrible practice, really. We still have to send ships to Siam or Malacca to buy rice. And we still have to provide rations for those Japanese. They absolutely will not eat corn.”

“Are there many Japanese here? Does Mr. Salamanca need to worry about their rations?” the Count asked casually, lowering his telescope and calling for a servant. “Bring the drinks.”

“At most, there were over three thousand. With their families, they formed several small towns near Manila. They are all devout Christians. Thirty years ago, it was they who formed a volunteer corps and fought alongside His Majesty’s soldiers to quell the great riot started by the Chinese. It was truly terrifying.”

“These good people are probably becoming fewer and fewer. The Japanese emperor and the ruling shogun have already decreed that no one is allowed to leave the country,” the Count said, personally pouring rum mixed with sugar and fruit juice into the cups. The treasurer drank his in a few gulps, smacking his lips in satisfaction.

“More than half of those who can serve are still left. These poor believers are having a hard time. They can only make a living as soldiers. Some even have to serve under those cheese-eaters or some other god-knows-what heretics.” Andrade held his empty cup, looking expectantly to see if anyone would pour him another drink. The Count’s attendant immediately obliged.

“My dear Count, you know there are less than 700 European soldiers in the whole of Manila. Every year we spend money to recruit poor devils to fill the army. But half of them are thrown into the sea on the way, and half of the rest die after arriving at their posts. The remainder are too sick with fever and dysentery to fight. No company is ever at full strength, not to mention that we now have to dispatch three companies to Baguio to guard the gold mines. We have to dig out the gold there to recruit more troops. At the same time, we need more soldiers to guard the arsenals and shipyards. Lord Salamanca believes that the only solution now is to re-enlist Japanese soldiers, not as a volunteer corps, but to form new companies in the colonial army and train them with firearms.”

“Even if they are recruited, a considerable number of them are already too old to be soldiers.”

“Yes, what you say is true. But the governor has no other choice. There are only so many Japanese in the Philippines. Even if we recruit all the healthy men among them, it will be difficult to expand the army enough,” Andrade sighed. “And we have encountered a competitor.”

“A competitor?”

“The Australian pirates on Hainan Island. Their agents are recruiting Japanese all over Asia to be their mercenaries, with excellent pay. Even in the Philippines, there are Japanese who have gone to join them.”

“That’s outrageous!”

“Who’s to say it isn’t? The Australian pirates are both powerful and rich, so much so that their ambition is great enough to invade China,” Andrade said with a worried expression. “I heard they have already killed the Chinese pirate king and annexed his fleet. God forbid, thankfully they are only interested in robbing a few galleons from the Philippines, and not coming to Manila to try to plunder the colony. Otherwise, I’m afraid we wouldn’t have enough time to gather resources and train a new army.”

“I believe His Excellency the Governor will entrust the task of training the new army to the most outstanding Japanese immigrant in Manila at present.”

“No, not Paul. Lord Salamanca never sees that man as Japanese, but as a messenger sent by God, a savior. As soon as he arrived, the financial and security crises facing the colony seemed to melt away like snow in the sun,” Andrade said, leaning against the bulwark, trying to steady himself on the deck, which was beginning to sway as the wind grew stronger. The alcohol seemed to be taking effect. “And Mr. Paul is very busy. He works day and night, eating and sleeping in the factory, constantly making demands on the governor for more craftsmen, more laborers, more iron, copper, and wood, and more saltpeter. But after taking so much, what results has he shown us? One expedition exhausted all the rockets and explosive shells he had made. Now, on average, each rifled cannon can only be allocated two conical shells. Of course, Mr. Paul will swear on the holy icon that newer machines will soon be completed, and new shells will be produced by the hundreds and thousands, as fast as mushrooms sprouting in the forest after the rain! I hope the gold dug from Baguio can afford that many shells.”

“Then who is responsible for supervising and commanding the Japanese companies—”

“The lucky Captain Piral. Ah, help!”

The Cavite Peninsula was already in sight. Beyond the dark rocks, one could see the masts of various heights and the yet-to-be-lowered sails behind the cape. For many ships with a deeper draft that could not enter the Pasig River, Canacao Bay behind the cape was a good sheltered anchorage.

The wind began to change direction at this time, growing stronger. The yacht was blown off its usual course by the strong wind. The helmsman turned one point upwind to bypass a cluster of reefs in the channel. What no one expected was that a large four-masted galleon suddenly shot out from behind the cape. The Esmeralda made a sharp half-turn to avoid a tragic collision. If the Count’s sailors hadn’t reacted in time to support him, Andrade would have undoubtedly taken a tumble on the sharply tilting deck, which would have been too undignified for a colonial official of Peninsular nobility.

“Hey, bastards, what are they trying to do?”

A puff of white smoke erupted from near the sterncastle of the large galleon, and the roar of a cannon echoed across the rolling waves.

“It was a blank shot, probably to warn us to stay away,” Andrade said, being helped over by a sailor. He found the Count staring at the galleon. The yellow and red Burgundian cross flag hanging from its masthead was dazzlingly bright, a size larger than any other ship’s. Another flag ostentatiously embroidered with a griffin perched on a castle.

“That is Don Sanavria’s crest,” Andrade deliberately avoided the word “coat of arms.” “This is not the Mercury, just one of his merchant ships, probably returning from Goa or the Coromandel Coast.”