The Story of Magellan and The Discovery of the Philippines

In his youth he had been dissolute. Seeing the responsibilities that he owed to the world and the age, he suddenly received new moral impulses and conquered himself, and his moral life was followed by a religious disposition. He received from the Pope the title of Roman Emperor. His powerful intellect subdued a great part of continental Europe to his will; but he became weary of the cares of state, retired from the world, and ended his life as a religious recluse.

The young King entered Spain in triumph, but amid the glare of receptions his ears were not dull to projects for acquiring gold.

Magellan and Faleiro, under the commendation of the ministry, were soon able to lay their project before the young grandson of the great Isabella. He received them in the spirit that Isabella had met Columbus. He approved their plans, and charged them to make preparations for the expedition.

Charles entered Zaragoza in May, 1518, a youth of eighteen, and Magellan and Faleiro followed the royal train on its triumphal march in the blooming days of the year. They were happy men, and their glowing visions added to the joy of the court on its journey amid singing nightingales and pealing bells.

The royal name signed to Magellan's commission was "Juana," who had been the favorite daughter of Queen Isabella, who had signed the commission of Columbus.2 This royal daughter of Aragon and Castile was born at Toledo, November 6, 1479. She was in the bloom of her girlhood when the news of the return of Columbus thrilled Spain.

She was a girl of ardent affections; a lover of music; not beautiful, but charming in manner; and at the age of eighteen was betrothed to Philip of the Low Countries, called Philip the Handsome.

The wedding of this daughter of Isabella was to be celebrated in Flanders by fêtes of unusual splendor. A fleet of one hundred and thirty vessels prepared to bear the bride to her handsome Prince. The ships were under the command of the chivalrous admiral of Castile.

Juana took leave of her mother at the end of August, 1496, and embarked at the port of Laredo. A more interesting bride under more joyous circumstances had seldom gone forth to meet a bridegroom.

The sails covered the sea under the flags of the glory of Spain. They drifted away amid music and shoutings, but the salvos of the guns had hardly died away before terrible storms arose. The fleet was shattered, and many of the vessels were lost.

The young bride herself arrived in Flanders safely, and her marriage with the archduke followed at Lille.

When Queen Isabella heard of the birth of Charles, she recalled that it fell on the day of Matthias, and exclaimed, "Sors cecidit super Mathiam" – "the lot fell upon Matthias."

She predicted that the infant would become the King of Spain.

Philip and Juana were summoned to Spain to meet the people over whom it then seemed probable that they would soon be called to reign. They entered France in 1501, attended by Flemish nobles, and wherever they went was a holiday. There were weeks of splendid fêtes in honor of the progress.

When Ferdinand and Isabella heard of the arrival of Philip and Juana in Spain they hastened to Toledo to meet them. Here Philip and his Queen received the allegiance of the Cortes.

But Philip was a gay Prince, and he loved the dissipations of Flanders more than his wife or the interests of his prospective Spanish possessions. So he left his wife, and returned to Flanders.

The conduct of the handsome Prince drove Juana mad. She loved him so fondly that she thought only of him, and sat in silence day after day with her eyes fixed on the ground, as an historian says, "equally regardless of herself, her future subjects, and her afflicted parents."

She subsequently joined Philip at Burgos. Here Philip died of fever after overexertion at a game of ball. Juana never left his bedside, or shed a tear. Her grief obliterated nearly all things in life, and she was dumb. Her only happiness now, except in music, was to be with his dead body.

She removed her husband's remains to Santa Clara.

The body was placed on a magnificent car, and was accompanied in the long way to the tomb by a train of nobles and priests. Juana never left it. She would not allow it to be moved by day. She said:

"A widow who has lost the sun of her soul should never expose herself to the light of day!"

Wherever the procession halted, she ordered new funeral ceremonies. She forbade nuns to approach the body. Finding the coffin had been carried to a nunnery at a stage of the journey, she had it removed to the open fields, where she watched by it, and caused the embalmed body to be revealed to her by torches. She had a tomb made for the remains in sight of her palace windows in Santa Clara, and she watched over it in silence for forty-seven years, taking little interest in any other thing.

But as she survived Ferdinand and Isabella, her name for a time was affixed to royal commissions, and so Magellan sailed in the service of Charles under the signature of Juana, who was silently watching over her husband's tomb, in the hope that the Prince would one day rise again.

We relate this narrative to give a view of the events of the period, and for the same reason we must speak of another eminent person who acted in the place of the Queen in her unhappy state of mind.

This was the great political genius of the time, the virtuous and benevolent Cardinal Ximenes, statesman, archbishop, the heart of the people and the conscience of the Church. He was born of a humble family in Castile in 1487. He was educated in Rome. His character and learning were such that Queen Isabella chose him for her confessor, and made him Archbishop of Toledo, with the approval of the Pope.

On the death of Philip in 1505, he was made regent for Juana. Ferdinand named Ximenes regent of Spain on his deathbed, until Charles V should return from Flanders to Spain.

The regency of Ximenes was one of honor and glory. He himself lived humbly and simply amid all his associations of pomp and power.

He maintained thirty poor persons daily at his own cost, and gave half of his income to charity. He excited the jealousy of Charles V at last, and lost his power in consequence. He lived to extreme age, and left a character that Spain has ever loved to hold in honor.

Such was the political condition of Spain in the early days of Magellan.

CHAPTER V

ABOUT THE HAPPY ITALIAN WHO WISHED TO SEE

THE WORLD. – BEAUTIFUL SEVILLE!

We should have known but little of the adventures of Magellan, but for Antonia Pigafetta, Chevalier, and Knight of Rhodes.

He was a young Italian of a susceptible heart and happy imagination.

He came wandering to Barcelona, Spain, in the generation that remembered Columbus, and the splendid scenes that welcomed the return of Columbus on the field of Sante Fé. He must have heard the enthralling description of those golden days – he could not be a Columbus; but, if he could win the good will of Magellan, he might go after Columbus and see what no Europeans had seen.

So he wandered the streets of Barcelona and heard the tales of the events that occurred when the "Viceroy of the Isles" was received there by Isabella.

What days those had been! The march of Columbus through Spain to meet Isabella at Sante Fé, was such as had a demigod appeared on earth. Spain was thrilled. The world knew no night. The trumpets of heralds rent the air, and men's hearts swelled high at the tales of the golden empires that Colon had added to Aragon and Castile. Alas! they did not know that there are riches which do not enrich, and that it is only the gold that does good that ennobles.

As Columbus approached with his glittering cavaliers songs rent the air, whose words have been interpreted —

"Thy name, O Fernando!Through all earth shall be sounded,Columbus has triumphed,His foes are confounded!"

or

"Thy name, Isabella,Through all earth shall be sounded,Columbus has triumphed,His foes are confounded!"

To Aragon and Castile Columbus had "given a new world." Peals of golden horns shook the delighted cities, where balconies overflowed with flowers.

His reception at Barcelona by the King and Queen had been made inconceivably splendid:

"That was a glorious dayThat dawned on Barcelona. Banners filledThe thronging towers, the old bells rung, and blastsOf lordly trumpets seemed to reach the skyCerulean. All Spain had gathered there,And waited there his coming; Castilian knights,Gay cavaliers, hidalgos young, and e'en the oldPuissant grandees of far Aragon,With glittering mail and waving plumes and allThe peasant multitude with banneretsAnd charms and flowers."Beneath pavilionsOf brocades of gold, the Court had met.The dual crowns of Leon old and proud CastileThere waited him, the peasant mariner."The heralds waitedNear the open gates; the minstrels young and fairUpon the tapestries and arrased walls,And everywhere from all the happy provincesThe wandering troubadours."Afar was heardA cry, a long acclaim. Afar was seenA proud and stately steed with nodding plumes,Bridled with gold, whose rider stately rode,And still afar a long and sinuous trainOf silvery cavaliers. A shout arose,And all the city, all the vales and hills,With acclamations rung."He came, the Genoese,With reverent look and calm and lofty mien,And saw the wondering eyes and heard the cries,And trumpet peals, as one who followed stillSome Guide unseen."Before his steedCrowned Indians marched with lowly faces,And wondered at the new world that they saw;Gay parrots screamed from their gold-circled arms,And from their crests swept airy plumes. The sunShone full in splendor on the scene, and hereThe old and new world met!"

The young Italian Chevalier, Pigafetta, Knight of Rhodes, visited the scenes that his own countryman had made immortal by his voyage.

He thought of the plumed Indians and of the birds of splendid plumage that Columbus had brought back.

He heard much of Magellan, the "new Columbus." Why might he not go out upon unknown seas with him and discover new races, and bring back with him tropic spices, birds, and flowers?

He journeyed to Seville and there met Magellan. He entered into the dreams of the new navigator. He asked Magellan to let him sail with him.

"Why do you wish to enter upon such a hazardous undertaking?"

"I am desirous of seeing the wonderful things of the ocean!"

Magellan saw it was so. The Spaniards might distrust him, the Portuguese be jealous of him, but here was a man who would have no race prejudices – a man after his own heart, whom he could trust.

"You wish to see the wonders of the ocean world?" he asked.

"Yes, and I can write, and whatever I may do, and wherever I may go, I will always be true to you – the heart of Pigafetta will always be loyal to the Admiral!"

"My Italian Chevalier, you may embark with me to see the wonders of the ocean world. You shall follow my lantern."

From that hour the young Italian lived in anticipation. What new lands would he see, what palm islands, what gigantic men and strange birds, and inhabitants of the sea?

The young Knight of Rhodes had spoken truly, whatever light might fail, his heart would ever be true to the Admiral.

So the Knight embarked with the rude crew to follow, in the silences of uncharted seas, the lantern of Magellan.

He composed on the voyage a narrative for Villiers de l'Isle Adams, Grand Master of Rhodes. By this narrative we are still able to follow in fancy the lantern of Magellan through the straits that now bear the name of Magellan, to the newly discovered Pacific, and around the world.

His character was as spirited as Magellan's was noble.

We will sail with him in our voyage around the world, for he went all the way and bore the news of Magellan's triumphs to Seville again.

Beautiful Seville! We must glance at the city here. She was the pride of Spain in those times when Spain dazzled the world. The Hispal of the Phœnicians, the Hispales of the Roman conquest, and the Seville of the Moors! Her glory had arisen in the twilight of history, and had grown with the advancement of the race.

She was indeed beautiful at the time when Magellan was preparing for the sea. The Moorish period had passed leaving her rich in arts and treasures, and splendid architecture.

Situated on the banks of the Guadalquivir, circular in shape and surrounded with more than a hundred Moorish towers, and about ten miles in circumference, she rivaled the cities of Europe and of the Orient.

The great cathedral was being completed at that time, a mountain of art, arising from its plain of marble. It was four hundred and thirty-one feet long, and three hundred and fifteen feet wide, with solemn and grand arches lighted by the finest windows in Spain, perhaps the most enchanting lights through which the sun ever shone. The altars were enriched by the wealth of discovery.

Over this mountain of gold, marbles, and gems gleamed the Giralda, or weather vane, in the form of a statue, three hundred and fifty feet high.

Seville at this time was a city of churches. To these, sailors resorted while waiting for an expedition to complete its preparations for the sea, for most of them were good Catholics, and such as hoped for God's favor in the enterprise upon which they were about to enter.

Here, too, was the old Moorish palace, the Alcázar, with its delicate lacework like the walls of the Alhambra, but richer in color. In this palace was the Hall of the Ambassadors, one of the most enchanting apartments ever created by the genius of man.

In the latter dream of Moorish fancy have passed aching hearts, as well as those filled with wonder and delight. Here Pedro the Cruel received one of the kings of Granada, and murdered him with his own hand, to rob him of the jewels that adorned his person.

The tales of Pedro the Cruel haunted the city at this time.

We are told that this monarch used to go about the city in disguise.

One night he went out thus to serenade a beautiful lady. As he approached the balcony with his guitar where the lady lived, he saw another man there, who had come for the same purpose. The rival musician filled him with rage, and the King rushed upon him and struck him down and killed him.

He fled away. He reasoned that as he was in disguise no one could know him.

There was an old woman who kept a bakery across the way from the house where the noble lady lived. She was looking out of her window at the time of the murder. She saw the act, and got a view of the terrible face of the royal musician as he was fleeing away.

"That was the King himself," said the old bake woman. "By my soul, that was the King!"

The next day the news of the murder filled the city. The murdered man was a person of rank and importance. The people were alarmed and indignant.

"Who did the deed?" was a question that arose to every lip.

The King, cruel as he was, did not wish to be suspected of being a street assassin. So he issued a proclamation in this form:

"Unless the alcalde (judge) of Seville shall discover the murderer of the gallant musician within three days, the alcalde shall lose his head."

The city judge began to make great exertions to discover the murderer.

The old bake woman came to him and said:

"I know who did the deed. But silence, silence! I saw it with my own eyes, but we must be still. It was the King himself!"

The alcalde dared not accuse the King, and yet he must save his own head. What was he to do?

He made an image of the King. He then went to the palace.

"O King! I have found the murderer. I have brought him here to receive sentence."

The King was glad that a suspected person had been found, so that the public thought might be directed to the suspect.

"What shall be done with him?" asked the alcalde.

"What! He who would slay a musician about to serenade a noble lady?"

"Yes, your Majesty."

"What shall be done with him? I condemn him to death. Bring him before me."

The alcalde brought in the image of the King, and uncovered it.

The King beheld himself.

"I will save your head," said the King, and the alcalde went thoughtfully away.

CHAPTER VI

ENEMIES. – ESTEBAN GORMEZ

No man living could better know what he needed for such a stupendous and unprecedented undertaking than Magellan, who had already been to the spicery of the Orient in the service of Albuquerque, the Portuguese Viceroy. Under the royal sanction, the dockyards of Seville were at his command. He repaired to Seville, and was there looked upon as one destined to harvest the wealth of the Indies.

But as soon as it became known in Portugal that Magellan was to lead a new expedition of discovery, the mistake that the King had made in rejecting the proposal of the lame soldier, to whom he had refused pension honors, became apparent. The court saw what this rejected man of positive purpose and invaluable knowledge of navigation might accomplish. Should his dreams be prophetic and his projects prove successful, the glory would go to Spain, and the King would be held responsible for another mistake like that which his predecessor had made in the case of Columbus.

What must the court of Portugal do? The hammers were flying in Seville on the ships loading for the voyage. Magellan was making up his crews. Spain had faith in him, and he had faith in himself; never a man had more.

Portugal must prevent the expedition. The Crown must appeal to Magellan to withdraw from it. The King must ask young King Charles to dismiss Magellan as an act of royal courtesy. If these efforts were not successful, it was argued that the expedition must be arrested by force, or Magellan must be murdered by secret spies of the court.

The fleet preparing was to consist of five ships with ample equipment. These were named the Trinidad, the San Antonio, of one hundred and twenty Spanish tons each; the Concepcion, of ninety Spanish tons; the Victoria, of eighty-five tons; and the Santiago, of seventy-five. The Victoria, the ship of destiny, was to circumnavigate the globe.

And now while the hammers were at work, the dull King of Portugal began to arouse himself to arrest the plan, and the court, seeing his spirit, acted with him.

In the bright days in Zaragoza Magellan had been warned that he was in danger of being assassinated. But he did not take alarm. As his project rose into public view at Seville he must have known that he was surrounded by spies, but he did not heed them; he kept right on, marching forward as it were after the inspiration that had taken possession of his soul.

There was an India House in Seville, composed of merchants, and these were favorable to the expedition. In Spain everything favored Magellan.

Aluaro da Costa was the Portuguese minister to the court of Spain. He plotted against Magellan, and sought an interview with young Charles in order to induce him to eliminate the Portuguese from the expedition. Charles was about to become a brother-in-law to Dom Manoel, and Aluaro da Costa could appeal to the King in this cause in many ways.

Full of diplomacy and craft, he met the King who had to weigh the prospect of gold and glory against this personal argument. Gold outweighed the family considerations, for Charles in his young days was a man of powerful ambitions.

Aluaro da Costa wrote to Dom Manoel a graphic account of this interview. It shows how politic ministers of state were in those days. We can not give the reader a clearer view of some of the obstacles against which Magellan had to contend in those perilous days in Spain than by citing Aluaro's account to Dom Manoel of his interview with young Charles V in his intrigue against Magellan:

"Sire: Concerning Ferdinand Magellan's affair, how much I have done and how I have labored, God knows, as I have written you at length; and now I have spoken upon the subject very strongly to the King, putting before him all the inconveniences that in this case may arise, and also representing to him what an ugly matter it was, and how unusual for one King to receive the subjects of another King, his friend, contrary to his wish, a thing unheard of among cavaliers, and accounted both ill-judged and ill-seeming. Yet I had just put your Highness and your Highness's possessions at his service in Valladolid at the moment that, he was harboring these persons against your will. I begged him to consider that this was not the time to offend your Highness, the more so in an affair which was of so little importance and so uncertain; and that he would have plenty of subjects of his own and men to make discoveries when the time came, without availing himself of those malcontents of your Highness, whom your Highness could not fail to believe likely to labor more for your disservice than for anything else; also that his Highness had had until now so much to do in discovering his own kingdoms and dominions, and in settling them, that he ought not to turn his attention to these new affairs, from which dissensions and other matters, which may well be dispensed with, may result.

"I also presented to him the bad appearance that this would have at the very moment of the marriage – the ratification of friendship and affection. And also that it seemed to me that your Highness would much regret to learn that these men asked leave of him to return,3 and that he did not grant it, the which are two faults – the receiving them contrary to your desire, and the retaining them contrary to their own. And I begged of him, both for his own and for your Highness's sake, that he would do one of two things: either permit them to go, or put off the affair for this year, by which he would not lose much; and means might be taken whereby he might be obliged, and your Highness might not be offended, as you would be were this scheme carried out.

"He was so surprised, sire, at what I told him, that I also was surprised; but he replied to me with the best words in the world, saying that on no account did he wish to offend your Highness, and many other good words; and he suggested that I should speak to the Cardinal, and confide the whole matter to him.

"May the Lord increase the life and dominions of your Highness to his holy service. From Saragoca, Tuesday night, the 28th day of September.

"I kiss the hands of your Highness,

"ALUARO DA COSTA."

Court intrigue against Magellan did not avail. There was one thing statecraft could do. It could set spies on Magellan on board his own ships. This it succeeded in doing.

There was in Spain at this time a Portuguese adventurer and navigator by the name of Estevan or Esteban Gormez – Stephen Gormez.

He was a student of navigation, and was restless to follow the examples of Columbus and Vasco da Gama. He had applied to the court of Spain – probably to Cardinal Ximenes, for a commission to go on a voyage of discovery and he had received a favorable answer, and was preparing to embark, when Magellan appeared at court and promised to find the Spice Islands by way of South America.

Magellan's scheme was so much larger and definite than that of Gormez that the court canceled its favors to the lesser plans, and Gormez had to abandon his prospects of sailing under the royal favors of Spain.

The eyes of Spain were now fixed on Magellan.

"I will find a way to the Spice Islands by South America or by the West," said Magellan to the ministers of the King, "or you may have my head."

These were bold words. Magellan had not only been to the Spice Islands, but he had gone out on the very voyage that discovered some of them. He had behaved heroically on the voyage. So his application to the court superseded the plan of Gormez and the latter sunk out of sight.

In his despondency at the failure of his plans, Gormez came to Magellan.

"My countryman," said Gormez, "your schemes have supplanted mine and turned my ships into air. I was the first to plan a voyage to the Moluccas out of the wake of hurricanes and monsoons. I do not feel that I have been treated rightly. Something surely is due to me."

Magellan was a man of generous impulses. He saw that Gormez had a case for moral appeal.

"My friend," said he, "you shall have a place in my expedition."

He could but think that the inspiration and knowledge of navigation of his countryman would be useful to him, and he pitied him for his disappointment, knowing how he himself would feel were his plans to be set aside.