MacTavish and Zheng’s eyes locked in defiance and challenge.
“Prepare to be boarded,” MacTavish commanded through a foghorn.
“Lǎolao! [Never]; You surrender and be spared,” the Chinese pirate answered in response.
At MacTavish’s order, the USS Jamestown, fired a single cannon shot which gravely damaged the after deck of the junk. Zheng knew that she could not sustain another.
“Approach under white flag, Captain,” she said, less defiant now.
In the few moments that it took for MacTavish to send his second-mate and five marines to the junk in a lifeboat, Zheng slipped overboard on her port side, opposite to where the Jamestown was standing in the water.
Unfortunately for Zheng, the watch officer of the USS Atlanta, sitting just behind and to the portside of the junk saw her escape attempt. He sent two fast boats after her and subdued her without a fight.
While Zheng was being taken into custody, the marine contingent from the Jamestown boarded the junk without a fight. The pirates had been ordered by Zheng to fight to the death to give their admiral a chance to live to fight another day, but they were not suicidal. While they had never given a ship’s company compassion and had inflicted brutal wounds, beheadings, tortures, rape, and enslavement, they expected better treatment from the Christian Americans.
MacTavish had Zheng brought to his sloop-of-war.
Once aboard, he offered her a steaming mug of chai which she gratefully accepted.
“Greetings, Admiral Zheng Shi Sao,” he said in a surprisingly polite manner which threw her off guard.
“Good afternoon,” Zheng responded in her stilted and imperfect English.
“Would you prefer that we converse in Chinese, Madam?” he offered.
“Jess prease. Best I talk in Cantonese.”
“Let us sit and talk about pleasant things until I can get my interpreter who is on another ship.”
The two leaders and his first and second mates sat down on comfortable cushioned chairs in MacTavish’s state room. If it was his intention to impress her with the futility of further resistance, he was successful. The Jamestown and the remaining ships of his flotilla were in motion, racing, in fact towards the southwest.
Alexandra Tarasova-Yusupov was brought alongside in a fast boat, and she was helped up the Jacob’s ladder and onto the main deck. The sailors saluted her and escorted her to the stateroom.
“Captain,” she said, “you sent for me, Sir?”
“I did, Captain. I trust you had an exciting ride.”
“Most bracing, Sir,” she said with a broad smile feeling lucky to be in one piece.
“I presume you recognize Admiral Zheng Shi Sao, Captain?”
“I have seen paintings…and wanted posters.”
At this Zheng laughed and gave a small bow.
“I asked you here to translate. I am in hopes that you speak Cantonese.”
“Fluently, Sir.”
“Neih hou, Madam,” Alexandra said in Zheng’s native language, taking care to enunciate the tonal qualities to distinguish between Cantonese and Mandarin.
They are both tonal languages but have different tones giving different meanings to the same sound. Mandarin has four tones per sound, while Cantonese has from six to as many as nine tones per sound. The two languages have different vowels and consonants; and for the most part, the differences are such that Cantonese people cannot understand Mandarin speakers and vice versa.
That broke the ice, and soon the two women—who came from opposite ends of the earth culturally—were carrying on a vigorous conversation in the language common only in Guangzhou Province–where it originated–and Hong Kong. It is the lingua franca in the southern provinces of Guangdong and Guangxi, including Hong Kong and Macau. MacTavish wisely did not interrupt the flow of what was indecipherable even as human speech to him. He waited until there was a lull before he asked Alexandra,
“Please tell me the gist of your conversation. I want only one thing from it. She must agree to send a letter in her special code, ordering her pirates to stay in their fortified port cities and to accept a parlay with us in the harbor. We must avoid a major fight at all costs; she doesn’t need to know that, of course.”
Alexandra related the conversation in generalities. They spoke of their childhoods, cultures, and life’s experiences. Then, Zheng confessed her fear that this was the end for her. She had defeated the Europeans, the British, and the Chinese—who had been reduced to using fishing boats as their navy after their encounters with her. However, she was tired. She feared that she would eventually be taken to hang in Hong Kong because the round-eyes from America had very convincingly trapped her. She was ready to capitulate but had several conditions she wanted to extract from the handsome navy officer.”
Both MacTavish and Alexandra laughed at that.
“Now, I think it is time for you to translate; so, I can be certain that the message is received accurately, and her response is what I want to hear. This is delicate, Alexandra, our careers–maybe even our very lives–ride on what we can get her to say and do.”
“I’m ready.”
She signaled to Zheng that they should resume talking and that it was now time for her to translate for the pirate admiral and Captain MacTavish.
Each question and each answer were laboriously asked and answered from Cantonese to English and back.
Q-“We are hurrying towards Ciudad de Isabela and the Zamboanga Peninsula to put a halt to piracy and slavery in the Sulu/Celebes region. We wish to accomplish that without bloodshed. We offer you amnesty if you make that happen, Zheng.”
A-“But what can such a humble one as me do that would help? I am your prisoner.”
Q-“You can write a set of orders in your language and in your handwriting to have your people stay in their homes, turn in their weapons, and wait for us. We will grant them amnesty as well.”
A-“That is generous of you, Kind Sir. I will do as you ask.”
A quill pen and parchment were brought to Zheng.
“I regret that the letter must be written in both of the main Sulu languages—Tausug and Yakan. Most people throughout the archipelago speak Tausug, but on Basilan Island where we are going, most speak only their old Yakan. Also, I must apologize once more, Kind Sir. The letter must be in our own special pirate code or else they will believe it is a trick.”
MacTavish asked Alexandra, “Do you speak Tausug and Yakan?”
“Sorry, no. I cannot speak or read either.”
“Then we must trust Zheng; is that what you say?”
“Not quite, Oliver. We can find one of the local hands who speaks and reads one or the other of those languages.”
“Zheng, you start writing. Alexandra, take the first mate and find the interpreter. Be quick about it. We are less than a day out of Fuerte Isabel Segunda. Time is of the essence.”
Zheng had finished a two-page letter for the chieftains of her fortified islands by the time Alexandra and Lieutenant Forsyth returned with the member of the galley crew from this work station.
MacTavish handed the missive to the cook who read it with assiduous care.
“What does it say, Man?” Capt. MacTavish asked brusquely.
“Oh, Good Sir, Missy Zheng says that she gives order to all pirate persons to lay down their arms and to stay off junks. They to sit in homes and wait for kind American navy persons to come and give them…freedom…not sure of the word.”
Zheng said, “Is amnesty.”
“Ah, so. After that they will no longer be pirates or sellers of persons, and they can go about their lives as Philippine citizens with full rights. No have to be punished, ever.”
He raised his eyes first to Zheng, who gave a slight nod, then to Capt. MacTavish and Alexandra.
“Is good,” pronounced Zheng and smiled at the cook.
“I guess we will have to trust you Zheng. Remember, things will go badly for you if this is a lie.”
“I fear you too much t
o lie. I swear on the life of the Virgin Mother.”
A fast boat was dispatched to Fuerte Isabel Segunda with the important orders, and the USS Jamestown and the Far East Transporter and the flotilla raced on taking advantage of fair seas and a brisk wind at their backs. In the several hours left before they reached the Isabel Segunda harbor, Alexandra had the member of the galley crew write down the gist of the letter that was sent to the best of his recollection. This is the message sent by Zheng:
Good captains and friends:
Tell this to all our people in all our cities in all our islands. All is lost for the Red Flag Fleet and for your humble servant Zheng Shi Sao. Have been taken prisoner by the American Navy who makes demands and gives promises. Demands are that you bring all of your weapons: dirks, kampilians, scimitars, barongs, your bamboo spears with the iron spearhead, your swivel guns, and all else, and pile them on the wharf. Do not go onto your ships. Go to your houses; stay inside; and do not come out until the American officers say you do that. Failure to obey will result in loss of heads, lands, homes, families. Obey me.
Signed,
Zheng Shi Sao,
Zheng Shi Sao,
Admiral Red Flag Fleet
Two days later the American warships and commercial vessels weighed anchor in the bay of Fort Isabel Secunda. Seeing no one in the city or near the stone fort, MacTavish dispatched a heavily armed contingent of marines on three lifeboats. They were in the city for two hours before returning with a disappointing message; there was not a single human being in the town, nor was there a single boat of any kind.
MacTavish and Alexandra were furious.
MacTavish ordered the master-at-arms to place both the member of the galley crew and Zheng Shi Sao in irons and stand them under the yardarm of the mainsail.
A heavy hemp rope was slung over the yard and looped over and through a heavy pulley. “Prepare a collar,” MacTavish commanded two ordinary seamen who quickly and expertly applied tallow to the rope’s end and wound thirteen loops to make a proper hangman’s knot.
Fully aware of the number thirteen as the world’s most well-recognized unlucky number, the man and woman in shackles gulped, paled, and stared at their shoes.
Alexandra lifted the Bangsa Moro cook’s chin to force him to look her directly in the eyes.
“What did Zheng Shi’s letter really say?”
The master-at-arms put the noose around the man’s neck and shifted it to the side so that his head was forced into an angle with his neck. The two hefty sailors on the other end of the rope pulled it taut, and it forced the terrified islander to stand on his tip toes.
“Are you deaf?” she asked and nodded to the sailors who inched the noose slightly higher.
“No, no, Missy. I hear you. Can’t talk. Choking.”
“Are you ready to write down what the letter said…NOW!”
He nodded his head as vigorously as he could.
“Lower him.”
MacTavish looked directly at Zheng and said with quiet malice, “Pay close attention, Pirate. Look and learn.”
Alexandra removed the noose and sat the trembling cook down at a table conveniently available a few feet away. She handed him a pen, ink, and two sheets of paper.
“Write,” she said. “If you write a lie, you will get your neck stretched. Then you will never marry, have children, or have any ancestors to light joss sticks for you. Understand?”
“Yes, yes, Missy. No lies. Had to lie first time because afraid of the dragon lady. Must protect me from her when I tell the real truth.”
Zheng gave him a dagger stare, but he ignored her and penned a note in pidgin English that he hoped would save his life. He knew that Zheng was going to die minutes from then which reduced his level of fear
Good captains and friends:
Tell this to all our people in all our cities in all our islands. All is lost for the Red Flag Fleet and for your humble servant Zheng Shi Sao if you do not make good plans to disappear. Have been taken prisoner by the American Navy who makes demands and gives promises. Demands are that you bring all of your weapons: dirks, kampilians, scimitars, barongs, your bamboo spears with the iron spearhead, your swivel guns, and all else, and pile them on the wharf. Do not go onto your ships. Go to your houses; stay inside; and do not come out until the American officers say you do that. I say, go fast to south end of Mindanao and hide in hills above Fort of Sepac. Know that I will find a way to trick the round eyes. Failure to obey me will result in loss of heads, lands, homes, families. Obey me now.
Signed,
Zheng Shi Sao,
Zheng Shi Sao,
Admiral Red Flag Fleet
“Is this the truth, Muhummad ibn Kabungsuwan?” Alexandra asked the cringing cook.
“Yes, Missy. All truth. Madam Zheng say she cut my throat and privates if I not tell you lie about first letter. So solly. Many times solly, Missy. Tell truth now.”
He began to cry, the most demeaning thing a Moro man could do in his entire life. That act alone convinced MacTavish and Alexandra that he had been scared straight.
MacTavish looked directly into Zheng Shi Sao’s cruel opaque eyes and said softly, “Why should we not stretch your neck? Maybe your only choice is to ask me to have the executioners break your neck fast. My inclination is to go slow and watch your eyes bulge for a few minutes while you die. What say you, Madam Liar?”
“Not like to be insulted. Not want to have war with America or American navy. Wanted only to have people to hide and save their skins. Ready to do all to make piracy go away.”
“And slavery?” asked Alexandra.
“And that important part of our economy go away, too. Time of fighting should stop, I say.”
“Prove it,” MacTavish said. “I ask you again why should I not hang you, Madam Pirate?”
“Take rope off. We talk. I can and will make both bad things go away. You guarantee Zheng that she can live like normal Chinee, keep her money, not be hunted by government peoples; and Zheng will go around and convince pirate peoples that it is not longer possible to live safe selling peoples and pirating ships. Will take monies from China, Brits, and American round-eyes. I not want more than £100,000 for me.”
“How can we possibly trust you?”
“Will go around to my towns and talk to my people while you listen. Gold haired girl can come. Will only speak English and Mandarin; so, she not find it difficult.”
Alexandra knew she and Oliver MacTavish had to find a way for Zheng to save face; so, she said courteously, “Perhaps, Admiral Zheng, we have misunderstood what you have said, and all is well. Perhaps we misheard your utterances and thought good was evil, and black was white.”
“Yes, Missy with the golden hair. You say right. Now we can work together as friends. Is there a word for such misunderstandings?”
“We do have a word for them, it is mondegreens.”
“Never heard it before. Is good word. I will try remember it.”
Reluctantly, MacTavish had his men dismantle the gallows even though he had never intended to hang either of the miscreants in reality.
Alexandra took Oliver aside and asked, “What is your plan if she fails to deliver a peaceful solution?”
MacTavish took no time to answer, “Fire and steel, shock and awe.”
He had a very serious look on his face. The fight would be blood and suffering and would likely end in a lethal defeat for his fleet.
He hoped his bluff had worked and committed the next four weeks to traveling with Zheng and ibn Kabungsuwan to make it so. The entire fleet traveled around the south Sulu/Celebes sea area and stopped in every pirate port they could manage in the time allotted to the project. It was dangerous, but to everyone’s great surprise—even Zheng’s—it was successful. They gave the same presentation in Fort Isabel Secunda, Basilan, Jolo—the great slave market–Tawitawi, Banguinqui, Sulu, Talipao, and finally they completed the mission in Maimbung at the Sulu Sultan’s Daru Jambangan—Palace of Flowers.
The sultan put it best: “It is time for this history “written in blood and tears and nourished in pain and suffering” as the Spanish say, to end. Throughout my archipelago, no more shall we keep slaves for the dirty Dutch slavers taking peoples to the Dutch East Indies. No more shall use our junks, Iranun garays armed with a lantaka at the bow, Moro paraws, or wooden galleys, to attack ships. No more shall we have to hide and to fear the governments and the navies. No more shall we have starvation without doing slavery and pirating. No more shall traders and government vessels fear our menace.”
“Agreed. Sultan, you guarantee that Zheng and her pirates go to their homes and stay there; and we will guarantee that the governments will not come hunting for them or you. We will pay a sum of money to assist you and your people to resume decent lives without committing crimes,” Capt. MacTavish promised on behalf of America for whom he might have been able to speak and on behalf of China, Portugal, all of Europe, and India for whom he had no authority to speak.
It was not necessary that the sultan or Zheng know that part, and it was a bluff he hoped would bear fruit. As time passed, it was amazing even to the bluffing Americans and the war-weary Chinese, Japanese, and the pirates that the bluff had worked.
Ultimately, Alexandra learned much later that Zheng left her profession as a pirate, murderer, and slaver and returned to her old profession of prostitution. She was given a stipend by the government of Hong Kong to build a casino next to her brothel where she prospered doing legitimate work. She married her son–adopted son–had two children with him, and died of old age in her bed in the brothel. She never entirely outgrew the gruesome reputation she deserved among the Cantonese people. Two generations and more remembered when her Red Flag Fleet established a harsh despotic pseudo-government over many coastal villages in the province. She imposed levies and taxes on the struggling settlements. She and her pirates robbed many innocent and defenseless towns, markets, and villages, from Macau to Canton. No one forgot the rape of one village where they beheaded 80 men and abducted all their women and children and held them for ransom until they were sold in slavery. But even that memory dimmed over time and the change of generations.
The Mysterious Alexandra Tarasova-Yusupov Page 30