Affairs being now in the said condition, we continued to make ready our retirade,[3] and were expecting that the enemy would begin with baskets [i.e., filled with earth] or would be fortified in some other manner in order to make an assault; but this did not occur, as they made no fort at the lookout, which would rise above the land about. However, on the side next the sea they made on the mountain a large esplanade, from which they fired the cannons; and, this done, they opened in the mountain itself two mouths, as it were, in the shape of trenches, through which they brought the cannons to bear, and bombarded us openly, while from our retirade we could not discover their men or more than barely see the mouths of the cannon in their artillery.
After this manner the war lasted five days, until the day of the glorious apostle St. Bartholomew, the twenty-fourth of August, when they bombarded and overthrew the wall of our retirade—which we had finished building, but it was not finished inside, nor did it contain any lodgings. As the Dutchmen afterward said, they fired that day, with the two cannon and from the fleet, one hundred and eight times; it was so arranged that while the cannon were being loaded there was no cessation of firing from all the musketry—which they had stationed at the top of the lookout, in files, directing the men to shelter themselves behind the hill, and to load their muskets while the artillery was at work. This they did so incessantly that it seemed to be the Judgment Day; and they gave no respite to our men, who were few in number and worn out with fatigue.
The wall being now thrown down, and many men being slain—among them Alférez Juan de Valdes, a very valiant soldier—and many others wounded, and the rest of the troops being exhausted with the incessant fighting for five days and nights, and a palisade which we occupied having been broken into with iron bars: the enemy formed four troops for assaulting the retirade. This they did, and entered without ladders, since the walls were thrown down, as I said. This being perceived from above by our men, some of these, of the baser sort, fled through the gate; while others leaped over the wall, on the side next our fort, which they succeeded in reaching. Others who were above with Captain Valentin de Arechaga, fighting with the enemies, and, as they say, retreating, drove the enemy back on their haunches; and thence they retreated to the fort below. Two others, Spanish boys, hid themselves—one in the powder-house, the other in a water-tank; the enemy slew the former, thinking that he intended to set fire to the powder, and the other they took captive.
Being now masters of the retirade, they trained a cannon from it (for they had no other left), mounted, against our men; and at the same time they sent a white flag with one of their men, demanding that, since they now held all the place as their own, we should surrender, since there was still opportunity to escape with our lives. He said that if we did not yield there would be no advantage for us in doing so, and there would be nothing to expect but death. The governor received this envoy, for he saw that what they said was true, and that we had no hope or refuge in the world, nor could even hope to delay the catastrophe; and he considered that by not accepting their proposal he was exposing to death more than four hundred innocent souls—children, women, servants, roadmakers, and soldiers—and that the soldiers did not amount to forty effective men. He saw that there was no hope of doing more than to die for the sake of dying; but if relief could be hoped for by any means, or he could see any indication that they could resist the enemy, he and his men were all determined to die rather than yield up anything of their rights. But he concluded that they were able to resist no longer, as I have said; and considered that any one who understood the occasion well, and who knew the opportunity and advantage and superior strength that the enemy had, and what our men had done in every way, would not rashly condemn his course. For in order to form a proper judgment of anything, to see it and be on the spot is very different from hearing it afar, and, as they say, talking from behind the palings. The governor replied to him who came to offer this settlement that he would consult his officers as to what ought to be done and what should seem most expedient; and that afterward he would return answer in accordance with such decision. Thereupon the bearer of the white flag went away, and the governor placed the matter before his followers and the religious who were there. It seemed to all that, considering that the enemy had now demolished and gained the retirade and the eminence, which was the mainstay and guard of the fort below, and that now without any doubt the fort was practically in their possession—[which they could accomplish] without the loss of a single man, but with the death of all our people; without need for attacking us, but simply by driving us out—the best possible terms ought to be secured, and that accordingly we should surrender. For [they considered that, to justify] exposing all those people to death there must be some hope [of success or relief], of which there was none at that time. Nor were they ignorant of the requirements of military honor and usage, but these passed sentence [upon surrender] when the enemy were not so sure of victory, and when they themselves had some grounds for hope; but without such hope neither did God, nor consequently human law, hold them under such rigorous obligation; and one law states that no one is obliged to do what is impossible.
The conference being concluded, answer was made to the enemy in conformity with the above decision. When they came to the terms of surrender, our men stipulated that they should leave the fort with their arms, flags flying, drums [beating], guns loaded, and matches lighted. At first the enemy refused this, being willing only to spare our lives; for they saw very plainly that everything was in their power, and that what they were giving was only a favor. They were not willing to give us the vessels that we asked from them, but said that we all must go to Tay-Chuan, their fort; and that if the governor of that place had orders he would give us boats. If he did not, they said that we must voyage to Jacatra, to see the commander-in-chief,[4] and that he would give us transportation; for they themselves carried no orders for anything else [than the seizure of the island]. With this the affair was ended—which is the truth of the matter, without any pretense or cloak.
Having departed from the fort with the said terms they placed us all in the convents of St. Domingo and St. Francis, with guards, while they arranged their affairs; then they sent us to Tay-quan, a fort of theirs on the other side. At the convents, the Dutch proceeded to take from all our men their weapons and flags, on the pretext that they must embark the Spaniards without these, for fear of some mutiny or uprising. This was afterward told to the commander-in-chief at Jacatra [now Batavia], and he replied that the guns and flags had been left at Tay-quan; but that if the governor of that place, who was coming by March or April, should bring them [to Jacatra], he would give them up. On this account the [Spanish] governor remained at Jacatra to await them, and to send away his men, and to be the last one. There was great danger that some men would remain there, by their own choice; or that, urged by the Dutch, they would say that they preferred to remain. The Pampangos and Cagayans remained with the Dutch, who refused to give them to us, although they had granted liberty to all [of our men]. Although many remonstrances were made to them on this point, they replied that they would pay those Indians as the Spaniards had done, and that the former should serve them. Accordingly, some of the Indians remained in Tay-quan, and the rest were taken by the Dutch in their ships that were going against Amboino and Terrenate. Some free servants were seized by certain Dutchmen in Tay-quan and in Hermosa Island, who refused to give them back; and afterward we learned that they had sold these servants to some of their countrymen. When this was told to the commander-in-chief, he said that it could not be true, and that he would make them give back all who remained in Tay-quan, twelve in number. The affair remained thus, unsettled, a matter which is certainly worthy of consideration; and it is sufficient cause for keeping back, whenever opportunity offers, some of their men until they return to us all those free and Christian people, who remain with them at the risk of losing the faith.
From the convents where they had kept us, they embarked us in four ships to convey us to the fortress of Tay-quan; and at the same time six companies of the Dutch who remained in our forts set out by land to go to the province of Torboan, in the eastern part of the island, to find the gold mines that the natives possess there. The latter obtain some gold from the sands of a river, of which fact the Dutch were informed; and this was a powerful motive for their seizing our forts. In order to carry out their purpose to search for gold mines, they came provided with men who were skilled in such work. This expedition marched until they reached the village of Santiago, eight leguas of the journey, [where they were stopped] by some precipices; they turned back, as they were not able to go any farther on account of the bad weather and roads, and as their provisions gave out—difficulties which, it seemed, they could ill overcome. But, although they could make no farther progress, they sent men with a champan to examine and reconnoitre the port of San Lorenzo, of which some inconsiderate person, or the Indians, had informed them; and they explored it very thoroughly.
The commander returned to the island with the said six companies, and hanged six Indians of the natives of Hermosa Island, from the three villages friendly to us—Santiago, Guimarri, and Taparri—because they had not supplied the Dutch with food, nor gone with them, nor guided them as the Dutch wished, the natives having promised to do so, although through fear. The enemy were unmindful that, since the Indians were our friends, they usually act thus, as it is their nature. The Dutch also hanged another, a Tagálog boy, who served their commander, because he ran away to the natives of that country; and two Dutchmen whom they found in our garrison, in the pay of his Majesty. These things, and the knowledge that the Indians have of them, have had such an effect on the latter that whenever they can they will break the heads of the Dutchmen, and will not accept their friendship. On the contrary, they now deplore our absence, and in the shadow of the Dutchmen the Spaniards are now almost saints; and the natives only ask when the Spaniards will return.
They immediately fortified themselves on the river of Tanchuy, where they erected a fort of logs, in the same place where our fort was first built, and left their artillery and sixty soldiers—as afterward we were told by some of our roadmakers whom they carried there to work. All this was to make them masters of the trade—in sulphur, rattan, pelts, and many other products that are found along that river and in its vicinity. They also built at once a fort of stone, although without lime, on the highest point of the island where our forts were, the lookout station by which they won the retirade from us.
Finally, while our men were voyaging to their forts of Tay-quan, we encountered the four other ships that were going to them with succor, and with these came the general and leader of them all, who had been unable to arrive before.[5] He went to our island, and began to govern it and direct its affairs; and it was he who went to look for gold, and who hanged the said Indians, and built a fort at Tanchuy. He despatched four ships to the coasts and routes of Japon, in order that they might attack the champans of the Sangleys who might go to trade in that empire; for the Dutch say that those traders go without chapa (or license) from their king. In Tay-quan they detained some of our men a month and a half, or more; others they immediately sent away, with our governor, in the first ship that sailed to Jacatra; and afterward, at the end of October, those who remained in Tay-quan went in four other ships.[6] Having thus sent all our men to Jacatra, the Dutch again undertook an expedition to discover the gold mines at Torboan; and they actually set out with a large force of men in November, which is a rainy season in the Tay-quan region. On this account, and because it is nearer, they crossed by land the middle ridge which Hermosa Island has, from Tay-quan to Torboan; but, as we afterward learned in Jacatra from the people on the other ship (which sailed later from Tay-quan), they did not reach the river of gold, on account of the great ruggedness of the mountains, and the bad weather which through November and December prevails in the Torboan region. Therefore they only punished some villages which lay nearer; and they burned these because, years before, the natives had killed a [Dutch] factor. With this they returned, leaving that expedition for the spring-time; this will cost them much hardship and perhaps many lives, for there is great difficulty in both the entrance and the ascent; and the Indians who are now among them will have changed their settlements, and will make great resistance to them—and will do so quite safely—since in the mountains they are very dextrous and experienced, and the Dutch clumsy.