Now, although all these things were enough in themselves to cause some trouble, yet the most agreeable conversation of his Lordship, with the pious division which he made of the hours of the day, left the evil one no opportunity. For, in the morning, Father Juan de Barrios and I said mass; there with his Lordship we recited the canonical hours, the office to our Lady, matins, and the prayers for the dead; in the afternoon at vespers, the same prayers, and the holy matins, and the prayers to the Virgin; in the early evening we had the Salve [i.e., “Hail, Mary”], with the public litany; and at night prayers for the souls in purgatory, usually relating some miracle, which was of great profit to many. Nor need your Reverence think that we lost any time because of the contrariety of the winds at Point Nasso that I mentioned; for orders were despatched to the Pintados Islands by the Indian volunteers, and sent to Othon with the falua[5] by Adjutant Don Francisco Olozaran—who returned in a champan with the father rector of Othon, Father Francisco Angel,[6] and Father Gregorio Belin. The latter was going from Samboanga to Manila to give his Lordship the news of the victory won by Sargento-mayor Nicolas Gonçalez over seven caracoas from Mindanao, which were returning, with some slaves and sacred ornaments, from plundering the islands. The father rector brought with him from Othon excellent provisions, and afterward he gave the whole fleet much better at Iloilo. His Lordship arrived at that place with the aforesaid father, in the falua, three days before we did, in order to have time to visit the fort, and see whether the boats of Captain Briones were prepared for the relief of our troops in Mindanao. On the arrival of the champans, Father Angel disembarked, to return to his mission in the island of Negros; and the father rector of Othon embarked in Captain Martin Monte’s champan, with his Lordship’s orders for Samboanga, which place we reached on the twenty-second of February.

Here his Lordship commanded that neither the [cannon of the] fort nor the musketry should be discharged at his approach, in order not to make a noise and thus make his presence known; and for the same reason he ordered that no vessels should go out of the river. In spite of all this Corralat soon knew of his coming, through the son of a chief of Basilan, who at that time was imprisoned in the fort of Samboanga, with orders that he was not to be released except upon urgent request by the [Jesuit] fathers, so that in this way they might secure the goodwill of the Moros. The next day general communion was proclaimed, together with an indulgence and full jubilee for the whole camp, for the first Sunday in Lent—his Lordship obliging all the soldiers to give certificates of confession and communion to their officers; and he had his own servants do the same thing, for I found him one day collecting the certificates with his own hands. All this was done with great fervor, and with many general confessions, in which the continual discourses and sermons of those days aided greatly. All received communion on Sunday with his Lordship, the blessed sacrament being exposed, and all were present later at Father Berlin’s [sic] sermon. In the evening, at the time of replacing the Host, his Lordship was again present with all the soldiery, because he had appointed me in the morning to preach the evening sermon on the reverence and devotion necessary to be observed in church, in the presence of so great a Majesty. This I did to the best of my ability, at the end inspiring the soldiers for the campaign, and inciting them to battle by showing them, painted on canvas,[7] a figure of Christ, whose feet and right arm the Moros had cut off; in the middle of it they had made a large hole, using the cloth as a chinina, or small mantle. This a Moro actually wore, and they killed him while he had it on, the day when Nicolas Gonçalez captured the caracoas. Father Berlin brought it with the sacred ornaments to his Lordship; and he, knowing that I had been on the lookout for some such thing in Manila, as soon as he saw it at Point Nasso, gave it to me. When I showed this image to the soldiers, and exhorted them to avenge with arms the injuries of the holy Christ, such were the tears, and so great the tender devotion and holy desire for vengeance with which they were fired, that (as they afterward told me) they would, on leaving the church, have been willing to offer battle with all the world [against them]. The effects were very marked, and much tenderness [of feeling was displayed], so that at last it was openly said that the mother who had no sons in this glorious enterprise was very unfortunate.

With this fervor and so excellent preparation, the champans departed on the trip to Mindanao,[8] which is sixty leguas from Samboanga, on the third of March, and on the fourth all the rest of us set out, with his Lordship, in eleven caracoas. In all, four companies embarked, three of Spaniards, and one of Pampangos. His Lordship’s company consisted of a hundred and fifty soldiers; Nicolas Gonçalez had one hundred, and Ugalde as many more, who were seamen; the master-of-camp had that of the Pampangos. I would not fail to write of what happened on Tuesday, when the champans departed. We all wished that his Lordship would not go until Saturday, that we might see whether some of the Indian scouts would not return in the meanwhile; but I did not wish to ask it from him until I had commended the matter to God. I asked the father rector to say mass to St. Francis Xavier for my intention, and I also said it. Then we withdrew into a room, and, after suitable prayer, his Lordship opened the book of the letters of that saint (which I hold to be a divine guide), pointing out beforehand the part which was to be read, and these were the words: Many times we think that our own opinion might be better; nevertheless, we must leave affairs to Him who governs them, if we wish to succeed. The will of the saint was plain to be seen, nor did I desire to contrive further speech about the arrangements with his Lordship. And truly all things were guided by Heaven in order to give him the glorious victory which he attained—to the confusion of the Moros and the undeceiving of the Indians, who now know that the Spaniards can, when they choose, fight in their territory without them.

In the gulf of La Silanga we met with a very severe and dangerous tempest, of which we rid ourselves by exorcisms and sacred relics, as is our way in dealing with things evidently planned by the evil one. Here Nicolas Gonçalez waited with eight caracoas to tow the champans through La Silanga, which is a strait of the sea two leguas long, between the great island of Mindanao and another and small island. His Lordship, with four of the caracoas, went to Punta de Flechas, so called from the ceremony and superstition of the Moros in shooting arrows at one of its rocks when they are returning to their own country, to show their thankfulness to Mahomet. Here we remained for two days, awaiting the vessels of the fleet; during this time I said mass on shore, having beforehand uttered tremendous conjurations against the evil one, as holy Mother Church is wont to do, with her exorcisms, holy water, etc. Then our people burned all the arrows, of infinite number, that were fixed on that headland, with a thousand other things—articles of food, such as fish, eggs, etc.—which, as a sign of their devotion, they are wont to leave fastened to the rock with black pegs. We set up a number of crosses in different places, and then the name of the place was solemnly changed to Punta de San Sebastian, in order that that saint, with his holy arrows, might complete the destruction of those infernal and accursed ones which for so many years have vexed us. The name was given also in commemoration of the fact that Don Sebastian [i.e., Corcuera] has been the first governor to cast anchor here and to round this cape; besides this, the marvelous fall of this rock in the night when Nicolas Gonçalez fought within sight of it, we all attribute to this saint, who desired to give to Don Sebastian pledges for the glorious campaign of Mindanao, since only that part of the rock fell which faced toward Mindanao—as we all saw with wonder. While we were here, a light vessel came from the enemy to reconnoiter our fleet; our falua gave chase, but, being very far away, could not overtake it. We, however, encountered a small boat containing four of our Indian captives who had fled from the enemy; they informed us that several Javanese ships were on the point of departure from Mindanao, laden with Christian slaves. I confess to your Reverence that this was not news to his Lordship, but he was cut to the heart by the misery of so many souls, and he at once decided to sail night and day in order to overtake the ships. This holy zeal was the sole and true reason for his pushing on without halt till he came up with them, instead of waiting for his fleet; and he was well rewarded by Heaven with so fortunate a victory, as your Reverence will see.

Now the evil spirit, who for so many years had dwelt at this Punta de Flechas, undertook to oppose us and hinder our advance. For three times, by the violence of the wind and sea, we were turned back; and the fourth time, without any contrary wind, we remained motionless for more than an hour, although our caracoa had ninety barrigas (as they call rowers on the Pintados Islands). Thus the work of the evil one was plainly to be seen; but, by casting a few holy relics into the sea and pronouncing exorcisms, as before, we soon passed on.

These deceptions and obstacles of the invisible enemy being overcome, we came in sight of Mindanao, without recognizing it, on Friday the thirteenth of March, with four caracoas. When I had finished saying mass—this was before dawn—his Lordship embarked in the falua, and with only six soldiers went to reconnoiter the place, to sound the rivers and harbors of the coast, and to see whether any Moro who could serve as a guide might be captured, for we had none. He pursued several of them up to their own shore, discharged two muskets at them, and nevertheless they fled up the river, abandoning their vessels. In response to these shots, the report of a cannon was heard from inland; this gave us much cause for fear, seeing that his Lordship was so bold, and we dreaded lest he had engaged with the enemy. Then we recited the litany, and other prayers; and, rowing as fast as possible, met them coming back. The governor embarked in his caracoa at eleven o’clock in the morning, and placed in order all four of the caracoas, with the two champans of our fleet—those of Captains Don Rodrigo and Ugalde, which had arrived three days before, and captured three caracoas from the enemy.[9] From another direction there came, under a white flag, a letter from the Recollect fathers whom the Moros held captive there, that [our men?] should inform them of what was going on. He cast anchor near the mouth of the river, where some huts were to be seen, without knowing what village it was;[10] and turning to me, said: “I will quarter my men in those cabins tonight.” Then he ordered all to eat; and having sent Adjutant Don Francisco Olazaran to land with twenty-five musketeers to seize the shore, and sounding the trumpets and the drums, discharging the ship’s cannon in the direction of the harbor, his Lordship disembarked, with all his soldiers—who, between Spaniards and Pampangos, amounted to seventy men. The sargento-mayor of the forces and the admiral of the fleet, Don Pedro Hurtado de Corcuera, drew up the forces on the beach, placing, at his Lordship’s direction, two field-pieces in the vanguard; and these were the terror of the enemy. Here, after I had aroused and encouraged the soldiers with the [sight of the] miraculous picture of St. Francis Xavier on one side, and that of the holy Christ (which I mentioned above) on the other—the two suspended from a lance—I walked between the vanguard and the body of the troops, with Father Juan de Barrios, the Augustinian father, and the chaplain of the fleet, which line of march we preserved during the whole campaign. At the time when we were disembarking one of our captive Indians came swimming toward us from the land, and we learned from him that this was the port of Corralat; but he was in such terror of the many musket-shots which the Moros, on seeing us, fired at him from an ambuscade which they had prepared against our people, that he could tell us nothing more. And so we marched on without knowing whether in the aforesaid port there were any force of arms or soldiers; we took for granted that what had always been said of the place was true—namely, that all the defenses of Corralat were upon the hill above, and not in the town below. Yet because this was the cause of God, where human means failed, I besought His Divine Majesty, together with the saints, to illumine with especial light his Lordship [the governor], so that, leaving the open road from the shore to the town, he should march with his soldiers by the road on the right. This route compelled us to cross the river twice, with considerable difficulty for the two cannon and for the person of his Lordship, who plunged into the water with all the rest of the soldiers. In spite of all this, it saved us from two very great dangers: one of them the armed ambuscade on the left side of the road, in the thickly-wooded part of a little hill—which we could hardly have escaped, as the road was very marshy, and was blocked by reeds, fruit plantations, and houses. The other peril was even greater; all the cannon of the fort were trained in the aforesaid direction [toward the left], and could not harm us, because they could not be turned to the right. The truth is that they had trained two chambered culverins very low against our path at the foot of the fortification—which would doubtless have done us much injury, but, through their great fear and confusion, no one succeeded in firing them.

After God had delivered us, without our knowing it, from perils so great, considering the small numbers of our expedition, his Lordship was marching in the vanguard, by the road which he had miraculously chosen. We had crossed the river for the first time, and the artillery and musketry were soon clearing the field as far as a stockade near the river, where the Moros made their first stand. Here it happened that, upon his Lordship’s going forward for a moment to see what enemy lay behind the stockade, four Moros set upon him with their campilans; he very swiftly faced about, to fire at them his gun, which a negro at his side always bore; and, not seeing the servant (for he had fallen a little behind), his Lordship fell to with his sword, with such spirit that the Moros, disheartened, soon fled. In spite of this, one of the Moros—Borongon, Corralat’s most valiant captain—going out most courageously from the other side of the stockade, tried to prevent our men (who were now ready to cross the river for the second time) from attacking the fort, which had been descried from this first stockade. He valiantly wounded two, and, for a third, attacked Captain Lorenço de Ugalde who was leading half the troops in this direction—the rest, under Captain Don Rodrigo, marching along the right bank of the river, where a great number of Moros was now gathering. Captain Ugalde parried with his shield the first two blows of the campilan; and then, rushing in with his sword, gave Borongon many wounds in the face, being unable to reach his breast because of the arms that the Moro carried; but he forced him to retire. His retreat, however, availed but little, because of the furious musket-fire of our men; and finally Don Francisco Olaceran’s sword completed the work, and the Moro captain went into the river. And now, after this man’s death, our troops went on, without further resistance, to the fort. It was furnished with a new moat, and was full of arms; and it had eight pieces of artillery in bronze, twenty-seven culverins [versos], many muskets with rests [?; de pinsote], arquebuses, and other hand-arms. There was a garrison of more than two thousand Moros for the fortress and the port, as we were told by Sosocan (a Moro friendly to us, and very well informed in regard to the equipment and strength of Corralat). All this profited them little, however; for so pressing was our attack that very soon we were masters of all, and Alférez Amesquita raised his flag above the fort. Many Moros had been killed, and the rest fled badly wounded, as we learned on the following day from our prisoners. At this place we killed the commander of the fort, a grandson of Corralat—the son of one of his daughters, who had married the lord of the lake[11] [country]—a very spirited youth, of whom his grandfather was very fond. He had that day vowed to Mahomet not to abandon the fort until his death, and thus he fulfilled his promise.

Seeing now our flags on the enemy’s stockade, we soon, with his Lordship, crossed the river for the second time; and climbing up on the other side, I also raised my standard, that of Christ and St. Francis Xavier. We all sang the Te Deum laudamus; and, after his Lordship had given the name of St. Francis Xavier to the fort and had left Alférez Amesquita as its governor, with a garrison of soldiers, we advanced to the rear of a stockade which Corralat defended with its one cannon, and to the mosque. Here the Moros had rallied for the last time, trusting in what their captain-general [condestable] had told them, that they were not to retreat until they saw him fall. He believed, by some witchcraft or other, that our bullets could not injure him; and he had had proof of this, for once a ball had broken the bone of his leg, crippling him, but without breaking the skin or drawing blood. In this confidence, he came out with his men to defy us, but Captain Zubire at once leveled his musket at him, and sent two balls through his forehead; this was the only portion of his body uncovered, the rest of it being protected by an English shield. The wretched man fell dead on the spot, and instantly all the rest in the stockade and the mosque lost courage, left their arms, and fled with all possible speed to the woods. At this same time Don Rodrigo, marching with his detachment between the slope of the hill and the river, charged the enemy so valiantly that by force he compelled them to abandon all their ships—which, for fear of us, they had hidden two days before in a broad inlet to this same river. Here they thought the ships would be safe, because they had brought them in so quietly, and because the place was so far away from the mouth of the river.

Thus in a little more than half an hour we gained possession of all below [the hill], and we would have captured the heights above on the same day, had we had all our forces, for the Moros fled in so great fright that Corralat himself had covered his face with mud so as not to be recognized by our men. This was told us by one of his servants, a Christian, who came to us the following morning, reporting a great number of Moros wounded—especially the king of the Lake, who was suffering with a bullet-wound in the breast; he had come to celebrate some marriage, that of a cousin of his with a daughter of Corralat. From this captive, and others, we learned that Corralat had desired, in any event, to surrender to the governor, but that the Christians had not consented to this, and had persuaded him to make a defense, promising that they would fight in the front rank. This promise they fulfilled, especially the day of the assault upon the hill, for it was they who did us the most injury; but they paid the penalty of this advice, not only with the property which we took from their ships, but with their lives, which the Moros themselves took in anger at their bad advice.

After the fight, the soldiers commenced to sack the houses; and the governor, having seen all the ships as far as the river above, retired with those who had accompanied him, to the mosque. Here the first thing that was done was to take the great chair of Mahomet, with his books and other paraphernalia, and burn them. What we saw when we came to take out this throne certainly surprised us; for, before we reached the fire, two most venomous serpents came out from the feet of the chair, terrifying the soldiers greatly. And truly, nothing other than serpents and poison ought to guard the chair of the great devil of Mindanao. When the chair was burned, together with all else that savored of superstition, we consecrated the mosque to our Lady with the Salve; and early the next morning (which was Saturday, the fourteenth of March), having dedicated the church to God with the title of “Our Lady of Good Fortune,” we commenced to say masses in it, at a very beautiful altar, which served us during the twelve days while we were there.