Over the Edge of the World: Magellen's Terrifying Circumnavigation of the Globe (34 page)

Once he was ashore, Enrique asked the Limasawan ruler, Rajah Kolambu, to send more food to the fleet, for which payment would be rendered. As instructed, he added “that they would be well satisfied with us, for he [Magellan] had come to the island as friends and not as enemies.” The king responded favorably to the request and came himself, along with “six or eight men,” all of whom boarded the flagship. “He embraced the Captain General to whom he gave three porcelain jars covered with leaves and full of raw rice and two very large
orades”
—the dorado, a fish. In return, Magellan “gave the king a garment of red and yellow cloth made in the Turkish fashion, and a fine red cap. . . .T hen the Captain General had a collation spread for them, and told the king through a slave that he desired to be
casicasi
with him. The king replied that he also wished to enter the same relations with the Captain General.”

This was a strong statement. To be
casicasi
meant that Magellan wished to become blood brothers with the island king, a ceremony requiring the mingling of their blood. “Both cut their chests,” said de Mafra, “and the blood was poured in a vessel and mixed together with wine, and each of them drank one half of it.”

Magellan’s attitude toward indigenous people had undergone a revolution. Where he had been content to convert, kidnap, and, when it suited his whim, even kill the giants of Patagonia, he felt a genuine kinship with this Filipino ruler. He took the king into his confidence and was soon trying to explain how the Armada de Molucca had navigated its way across the globe. “He led the king to the deck of the ship that is located above at the stern and had his sea-chart and compass brought. He told the king how he had found the strait in order to voyage thither, and how many moons he had been without seeing land, whereat the king was astonished.”

T
he understanding nearly unraveled when Magellan decided to one of his gunners to demonstrate an arquebus, and the spectacle, all smoke and fire and noise, made the “the natives . . . greatly frightened.” Recent experience should have warned Magellan that a show of force was courting disaster, but he could not resist the urge to impress the king with the power of European weapons.

Magellan gave an even more astonishing demonstration as he brought out one of his men, who was dressed in armor from his knees to his neck; then three other Europeans, “armed with swords and daggers . . . struck him on all parts of the body.” As the blows fell and glanced off the armor, the clank of metal on metal echoing across the water, “the king was rendered speechless.” The king seemed to think that these visitors possessed superhuman powers. No man could have withstood the shower of blows, yet the armored soldier had done just that.

Gratified by the king’s reaction to the swordplay, Magellan instructed Enrique, his slave and translator, to tell the king that “one of those armed men was worth one hundred of his own men” and boasted that his armada brought with it two hundred warriors equipped with armor and weapons—swords, halberds, and daggers. The message was plain: A wise leader would do well to keep Magellan as an ally rather than antagonize him. Recovering from the shock of what he had seen, the king hastily agreed that a single warrior in armor was worth one hundred natives.

Magellan’s Armada de Molucca carried enough weaponry to equip a small army. The sheer number of weapons reflected the growing reliance on arms in Spain and Portugal. Both nations depended on gunpowder, which had appeared in Europe at the beginning of the fourteenth century. Gunpowder was slow to reach the Iberian peninsula, but once it caught on, the Spanish and the Portuguese embarked on an arms race with a sense of deadly urgency. Local gunpowder works sprang up all over Spain; and eventually a government-sponsored gunpowder plant appeared in Burgos. The demand for gunpowder grew along with the demand for guns and cannon, and the number of foundries across Spain and Portugal increased as both countries armed themselves to compete for global dominance. It was only a matter of time before weapons found a place aboard the ships of both nations, at first to defend their harbors, and later to protect crews on voyages of exploration. The most powerful weapons aboard Magellan’s ships were the three
lombardas.
This was a cannon made of wrought iron. Designed for use at sea, it was equipped with rings to lift it on and off ships. Aboard the deck of a ship, the
lombarda
rested in a wooden cradle to which it was securely lashed. It could fire almost anything—stones, iron, and lead projectiles, but the most lethal shot consisted of an iron cube covered with a leaden sheath. To fire a
lombarda,
the gunner held a flaming taper to a touch hole leading to a small chamber holding priming powder; this in turn set off the main charge, expelling the shot with a great concussive roar as the
lombarda
shuddered in its massive cradle. The
lombarda
was not accurate, but its heavy projectile could inflict considerable damage on a hull. The fleet also carried seven breech-loading guns called
falcones
. They were smaller than the
lombardas,
and light enough for sailors to carry them into the longboats. The fleet also carried three
pasamuros
, another type of gun; nearly sixty
versos
, a crude rifle that could fire stone shots; fifty shotguns; three tons of gunpowder; and at least that weight in cannonballs.

Although these firearms could be exceedingly effective, they were also unreliable. Each time a gunner fired a weapon, he risked injury or death. Guns and cannon were liable to blow up or sputter harmlessly. The arquebus posed special dangers. It employed a matchlock, a small pan holding the gunpowder beside the gun barrel; its nine-foot-long match, or fuse, had to be lit at all times, which eliminated surprise in night combat. To maintain the match’s length, the gunner pulled it by hand, risking injury. Even if a dexterous gunner managed to get off a shot, the bullets could not penetrate armor, and their effective range was less than a few hundred feet. At that moment, gun manufacturers were phasing out the awkward matchlock in favor of the wheel lock, which produced a spark, but the improvement came too late for Magellan’s gunners to take advantage of it. If his expedition had left only a year later, he would have carried more advanced guns with him, and the outcome of his voyage might have been very different.

For real fighting, the weapons that mattered most were more traditional swords, knives, and pole weapons, which Spain had brought to a high level of refinement. The ships carried nearly one thousand spears (four for every member of the crew), several hundred steeltipped javelins and pikes, and a dozen lances. They also carried halberds—an especially nasty weapon consisting of a blade mounted on a shaft with two handles. Properly used, a halberd could slice a man in two. There were at least sixty crossbows, and hundreds of arrows to supply them.

To complement the weapons, the fleet carried one hundred sets of armor (rather than the two hundred Magellan had claimed), consisting of corselets, cuirasses, helmets, breastplates, and visors. Magellan brought his own deluxe armor, which included a coat of mail, body armor, and six swords. His helmet was topped with bright plumage. With their firearms and armor, the men of Magellan’s fleet believed they were the masters of all they surveyed. As far as Magellan was concerned, the combination of firepower and armor gave the armada unequaled power over the people of the islands, a belief that would cost him dearly.

O
nce Magellan finished his military display, he formally requested that two emissaries inspect the island’s huts and food stores. The king rapidly assented, and the Captain General chose Pigafetta and another crew member, whose name the attentionloving chronicler ignored. After his months at sea, keeping out of harm’s way during the mutiny and narrowly avoiding disaster when he fell overboard, this was Pigafetta’s great opportunity to distinguish himself as a diplomat.

The moment he stepped ashore, he encountered luxury the likes of which he had not seen since leaving Spain. “When I reached the shore, the king raised his hands toward the sky and then turned toward us two. We did the same toward him as did all the others.” He made a regal spectacle, “very grandly decked out,” and “the finest looking man that we saw among those people.” His hair, “exceedingly black,” hung to his shoulders, and he wore two large golden earrings. “He wore a cotton cloth all embroidered with silk, which covered him from the waist to the knees. At his side hung a dagger, the haft of which was somewhat long and all of gold, and its scabbard of carved wood. He had three spots of gold on every tooth, and his teeth appeared as if bound with gold.” Tattoos covered every inch of his glistening, perfumed body. The women, Pigafetta noticed, “are clad in tree cloth from their waist down, and their hair is black and reaches to the ground. They have holes pierced in their ears which are filled with gold.” Gold was everywhere, in jewelry, goblets, and dishes; it was evident throughout the king’s dwelling. The precious metal, Pigafetta learned, was readily mined on the island in “pieces as large as walnuts and eggs.”

Everyone, it seemed, chewed constantly on a fruit that resembled a pear. “They cut that into four parts, and then wrap it in the leaves of their tree, which they call betel. . . . They mix it with a little lime and when they have chewed it thoroughly, they spit it out. It makes the mouth exceedingly red. All the people in those parts of the world use it, for it is very cooling to the heart, and if they ceased to use it they would die.”

Pigafetta had little time to gape. “The king took me by the hand; one of his chiefs took my companion, and they led us under a bamboo covering, where there was a
balanghai
as long as eighty of my palm lengths. . . . We sat down upon the stern of that
balanghai
, constantly conversing with signs. The king’s men stood about us in a circle with swords, daggers, spears, and bucklers. The king had a plate of pork brought in and a large jar filled with wine. At every mouthful, we drank a cup of wine. . . . The king’s cup was always kept covered, and no one else drank from it but him and me. Before the king took the cup to drink, he raised his clasped hand toward the sky, and then toward me; and when he was about to drink, he extended the fist of his left hand toward me. At first, I thought he was about to strike me. Then he drank. I did the same toward the king. They all make those signs toward one another when they drink.” Dinner was announced, and a royal feast it was. “Two large porcelain dishes were brought in, one full of rice and the other of pork with its gravy.” Out of respect for the king, Pigafetta, an observant Catholic, forced himself to overlook one of his own religious customs. “I ate meat on Holy Friday,” he confessed, “for I could not help myself.” During the meal, Pigafetta gave the king a presentation that made almost as large an impression as Magellan’s show of force: it was the power of the written word. Pigafetta coaxed the king to name various objects surrounding them, and recorded a phonetic transcription. “When the king and the others saw me writing, and when I told them their words, they were all astonished.”

After the demonstration, “We went to the palace of the king”— in reality, a “hay loft thatched with banana and palm leaves. It was built up high from the ground on huge posts of wood and it was necessary to ascend it by means of ladders.” Once everyone had clambered inside the flimsy structure, “The king made us sit down there on a bamboo mat with our feet drawn up like tailors. After a halfhour a platter of roast fish cut in pieces was brought in, and ginger freshly gathered, and wine. The king’s eldest son, who was the prince, came over to us, whereupon the king told him to sit down near us, and he accordingly did so.” More feasting ensued; Pigafetta claimed that he held his own, but “my companion became intoxicated as a consequence of so much eating and drinking.” Eventually, the king, his appetite sated, retired for the night, leaving the prince behind. Pigafetta and the besotted prince slumbered in the rickety palace on bamboo mats “with pillows made of leaves.”

In the morning, the king returned, took Pigafetta “by the hand” once more, and offered him another lavish meal, but before the feasting could resume, the longboat came to fetch the Europeans. Magellan had finally had enough; in addition, Easter was fast approaching. Pigafetta’s reluctance to return to the fetid, barrackslike surroundings of
Trinidad
can be imagined. “Before we left, the king kissed our hands with great joy, and we his. One of his brothers, the king of another island, and three men came with us. The Captain General kept him to dine with us, and gave him many things.”

E
arly on the morning of Sunday, the last of March, and Easter Day, the Captain General sent the chaplain ashore to celebrate mass,” wrote Pigafetta of that holiday. They explained the importance of the occasion to the king, so that he would not feel it necessary to feed everyone again, but neither he nor his royal brother could resist, and they sent two freshly slaughtered pigs to the Europeans. And then some of the islanders decided to worship alongside them. Once the mass began, the islanders gradually fell under its incantatory spell, barely comprehending the rite’s significance, but, to judge from Pigafetta’s description, feeling its spiritual power nonetheless. “When the hour for mass arrived, we landed with about fifty men, without our body armor, but carrying our other arms, and dressed in our best clothes. Before we reached the shore with our boats, six weapons were discharged as a sign of peace. We landed; the two kings embraced the Captain General and placed him between them. We went in marching order to the place consecrated, which was not far from the shore. Before the commencement of mass, the Captain General sprinkled the entire bodies of the two kings with musk water. The mass was celebrated. The kings went forward to kiss the cross as we did, but they did not participate in the Eucharist. When the body of our Lord was elevated, they remained on their knees and worshiped Him with clasped hands. The ships fired all their artillery at once when the body of Christ was elevated, the signal having been given from the shore with muskets. After the conclusion of the mass, some of our men took communion.”