WAR BY LAND AND SEA
Albeit sheltered by a cognate Latin people, our traveller had by no
means found a haven of perfect safety. In a few days, we find him
taking his part in a great sea-fight between the Portuguese fleet
of eleven ships (of which two were galleons and one a brigantine),
commanded by Don Francisco de Almeyda, and the great Indian fleet
of two hundred and nine sail, which had gathered together from all
those parts of the Malabar coast which remained in the hands of the
Mohammedan traders. But only eighty-four ships of the Mohammedan fleet
were large sail; the rest being _praus_, mainly propelled by the oar.
Nor were they all meant to fight: many of them were traders under
convoy. As they approached, “it was as if one looked on a very big
wood.” Varthema, restored to western civilization and Christianity,
is borne away by the inexorable spirit of the Portuguese sea-dogs.
Never saw he braver men and he is with them in their prayers to God
“to confound the heathen faith.” He tells us how the Admiral incited
his men, by the passion of Christ, to thrust at these dogs; for this
is the day which shall cleanse them from their sins; and how the
Spiritual Father, crucifix in hand, exhorted them in language so
beautiful that the graceless men shed tears. All received absolution,
and then the Admiral sailed past two galleons of the foe, firing
broadsides into them to find out of what mettle they were. Nothing
further happened that day; and next morning, the Moorish Admiral made
certain overtures to be allowed to pass by in peace. “Sail by if you
can,” was the reply of the Portuguese Admiral; “but first learn what
manner of men we Christians be.” “Mohammed is our trust against you
Christians,” retorted the Moors, and then they crowded all sail and
plied the oar. Don Francisco de Almeyda let them come on until they
were immediately off Cannanore; “‘for he wished the ruler of the city
to see what stuff Christians were made of’.... And when the time to eat
had come, the wind freshened somewhat and our Captain said: ‘now, up,
my brothers; now is the time,’ and sailed for the two biggest ships.”
The Moorish fleet struck up all kinds of weird, inspiriting music while
the fleets met. Thrice did Almeyda’s men cast their grappling-irons on
the largest galleon, and thrice they failed; but the fourth attempt
was a success. The retaliatory cruelties of the Moors at Calicut
were remembered, and not one of the six hundred crew was suffered to
escape. Another Moorish vessel was boarded, and five hundred Moors
were slaughtered. But the enemy still fought desperately and well, and
managed to divide the Portuguese fleet. The galley commanded by João
Serrão, who had taken Varthema from Cannanore to Cochin was surrounded
by fifty vessels, great and small; and the brigantine was boarded by
fifteen Moors, who drove its crew to the poop. But the captain, one
Simon Martin, called aloud to Jesus Christ for victory, smote off
half a dozen Moorish heads with his own hands, and cast such fear
into the surviving boarders, that they threw themselves into the sea
for safety. Four other Moorish vessels now drew on; but Martin saved
the situation by seizing an empty barrel and making as if it were a
mortar; and seeing this, the attackers turned back. Don Francisco
de Almeyda then sailed into the very midst of the convoyed traders,
captured seven of them, laden with spice and other goods, and sank
nine or ten more by gun-fire, amongst which was one with a cargo of
elephants. The Moors fled, and the pursuit was kept up by ships’ boats,
to prevent any attempt at swimming ashore. About two hundred swam
twenty miles and escaped; but cross-bow and lance put an end to most.
Next morning all the corpses that could be recovered from the waves, or
the shore, or from captured ships, were counted: they numbered three
thousand six hundred; but, “by God’s grace, no Christian was killed
on galley or other ship; but many were wounded during the long day of
battle.” The Moors were a match for the Portuguese in battle, but not
in artillery, ships or seamanship. This sea-fight took place in March,
1506, and three months later the Viceroy rewarded Varthema’s services,
by making him head-factor of the Portuguese warehouses. A man with so
much knowledge of Mohammedan and Hindu customs and method, speaking
Arabic, and with some smattering of the native tongue; a man, withal,
with such experience of the ways of the world, so diplomatic, and so
masterful, would be invaluable. A little later, he was sent from Cochin
to Cannanore to get behind the curtain of certain frauds; for traders
from Calicut had got safe-conducts there by passing themselves off as
residents of Cannanore. About this time the Râja of Cannanore died; and
the new sovereign was no friend to the Portuguese. He got artillery
from the Zamorin, and, from the 27th April until the 17th August there
was open war, begun by Moorish traders, who attacked the Christians
when they were going to a well to draw water. The latter retired to
the fort, in good order; and Varthema and 200 men held it, under the
captaincy of a certain Lorenzo de Britto. They had nothing to eat but
nuts, rice and sugar. Water they had to draw from a well a bow-shot
off, after fighting for it all the way. The investing force had more
than 140 cannons; but, although it consisted of thousands of men, they
were mainly armed with bows and arrows, spears, swords and shields.
This host would rush on with fury, inspired by musical instruments of
many kinds and the splutter of fireworks; but they never got within two
stones’ cast of the fort; and every day half of a score of them were
killed and the rest fled. “They said we kept the devil with us for our
defence.”
At last, up came the Portuguese fleet under Tristão da Cunha, of
unperished name, and his three hundred knights in shining steel, who
were dissuaded with difficulty from burning Cannanore to the ground.
The ocean, up to now the auxiliary and defence of the Peninsula and its
Moorish traders, had become a highway for the enterprise of the armed
fleets of Europe. On the arrival of this strong force, the Râja and the
Moorish traders sued for peace, which the Viceroy had the foresight to
grant. For, whatever victories the Portuguese might win, and at however
small a cost, their position in the East was precarious. The Mohammedan
world was weak as against Europe for the same reason that Europe was
weak as against Constantinople: it was divided. Should the spirit of
resistance once become so strong as to overcome local jealousies, with
the whole Mohammedan world set aflame in Europe, Africa and Asia, and
with the countless hosts of the Far East at the call of the Mohammedan
trader, where had the Portuguese—nay where had Europe been?
Varthema, once again a devout Catholic, tells us how he spent leisure
hours when there was peace with the natives, in trying to convert some
of his old acquaintance among the traders of Cannanore to Christianity.
He professes great disdain for the simplicity and ignorance of these
Pagans! and the arguments he used were not precisely scrupulous, and
were far from skilful.
In November, 1507, at the request of the Viceroy, Varthema accompanied
him and Tristão da Cunha to the assault on Ponani, a port to the south
of Calicut. He tells us how, after the customary prayers and spiritual
monitions, “a little before break of day, we opened war to the death
on these dogs, who were eight thousand; and we, about six hundred.”
Native troops have never had a chance against European arms and
discipline. The disproportion of the opposing troops was about the same
as at Plassey, two centuries and a half later; and if all De Almeyda’s
troops were Europeans, as Clive’s were not, the latter were all led by
European officers and trained in European methods. And if, opposed to
Clive and the famous Thirty-ninth _primus in Indis_ there were a few
French auxiliaries, opposed to De Almeyda and Da Cunha were 64 Moors
vowed to victory or death, “for each one of them was master of a ship.”
“But God gave us His help, so that none of our folk were slain here;
yet we killed 140; and of these, with my own eyes, I saw Don Lorenzo
slay six; and he got two wounds; and many others were wounded also. For
a little while the battle was most fiercely fought. But our galleys
neared the shore; and then these dogs began to give way: and for that
the water (of the river at Ponani) began to fall, we followed them no
farther. But these dogs began to swell their numbers; so we set fire to
their ships, burning thirteen thereof, most of them newly builded and
big. And then the Viceroy withdrew all his troops to the headland; and
here he made some knights; and of these, of his grace he made me one;
and that most valiant leader, Tristão da Cunha, was my sponsor.” And
then they all embarked for Cannanore.