Barely six months after taking Goa, Albuquerque stormed and sacked Malaca, in Malay, a city which now belongs to the British Empire and has about 100,000 inhabitants, and which then, in Albuquerque’s own words, was “muito grande cousa.”[15] Of all the great spoils the Governor characteristically reserved for himself only two great bronze lions which he intended to have placed on his tomb. But his ship, laden with the costliest plunder, much of which was intended for King Manoel, met with a violent storm and foundered. Albuquerque, dressed in a brown coat and anything that came to hand, escaped on a raft.
In 1513 he carried out his long-cherished project of an attack on Aden, whence, he said, “vermilion, currants, almonds, opium, horses, dates, gold” went to India. The Portuguese assaulted but failed to take the town—in their eagerness the ladders broke again and again under their weight—and it was not safe to blockade it for fear of adverse winds, lack of water, and the large and speedy assistance the enemy might expect. Swift cameleers carried the news of the attack in fifteen days to Cairo, and, generally, the presence of a large Portuguese fleet in the Red Sea made a far-reaching impression.
Albuquerque set out to attack Aden again in 1515, but was occupied for some time at Ormuz, and fell ill there. He started to return to India, and on the way received tidings from a passing boat that his successor to the Governorship of India had been appointed, and many important posts given to his personal enemies.
This was his death-blow. Only a year before he had written to the King of his determination to continue in India for the rest of his life, at whatever sacrifice to himself, for the sake of maintaining and strengthening the empire he had won. Now heartbroken he exclaimed, “Out of favour with men for the sake of the King, and out of favour with the King for the sake of men. It is good to make an end.” He dictated a last brief letter to the King “in the throes of death,” recommending his son, and died as the ship came in sight of Goa, straining his eyes to see the tower of the church he had founded (December 1515).
Next day his body, dressed in the habit of Santiago, was carried ashore and buried amid universal grief. The natives perhaps mourned him sincerely, since he had worked for their prosperity and his attitude towards them, as distinguished from the Moors, had always been kindly. The gods, they said, had summoned him to war in heaven. His enemies continued to fear him even dead, so that King João III declared that India would be safe so long as Albuquerque’s body remained there, and it was only in 1566 that his bones were brought to Portugal.
A contemporary Portuguese historian, Barros, thus describes Albuquerque: “He was a man of medium height, of a cheerful, pleasant countenance, but when angry he had a melancholy look; he wore his beard very long during the time of his command in India, and as it was white it made him very venerable. He was a man of many witty sayings and in some slight annoyances [menencorias leves! Had not Barros read Albuquerque’s letters?] during his command he said many things the wit of which delighted those whom they did not immediately affect. He spoke and wrote very well with the help of a certain knowledge of Latin [the superior Barros!]. He was cunning and sagacious in business, and knew how to mould things to his purpose, and had a great store of anecdotes suited to different times and persons. He was very rough and violent when displeased and he tired men greatly by his orders, being of a very urgent disposition. He was very charitable and devout, ever ready to bury the dead. In action he was somewhat impetuous and harsh. He made himself greatly feared by the Moors and always succeeded in getting the better of them.”
Another historian, Correa, who had served Albuquerque three years as private secretary in India, knew him better and appreciated his greatness. It is Correa who gives us an imposing glimpse of the Governor of India two years before his death, i.e. at the time when Albuquerque described himself as “a weak old man.” He was dressed “in doublet and flowing open robe, as was then the fashion, all of black damask streaked with black velvet, on his head a net of black and gold thread, and above this a large cap of black velvet; in his belt a dagger of gold and precious stones worth fifteen thousand crusados, round his neck a thick chain; and his long white beard, knotted at the end, gave him a very venerable presence.”
Albuquerque was sincerely devout, even to the verge of mysticism or superstition. He believed that St. James went before the Portuguese on a white horse guiding them to victory, and when in the Red Sea that a fiery cross in the sky was specially sent to beckon him on to further conquests.
There is a massive strength in all that he said and did.[16] After he had subdued Ormuz its king hesitated whether he should pay his customary tribute to Persia and sent to consult Albuquerque. Albuquerque made a little collection of firearms and cannon-balls and answered, “In this coin is the King of Portugal wont to pay tribute.”
But the whole man is in his letters, aptly described as being “written with a sword.” Perhaps it is only in the letters of Napoleon that one finds the same mingling of great plans and conceptions with a mastery of the smallest details and concern for things which a lesser man would scorn to notice.