Over the Edge of the World: Magellen's Terrifying Circumnavigation of the Globe (59 page)

For a discussion of the armada’s weaponry, see Charles Boutell,
Arms and Armour
(p. 243) and Parr (p. 383). Roger Craig Smith’s 1989 thesis,
Vanguard of Empire: 15th- and 16th-Century Iberian Ship Technology in the Age of Discovery
: offers more specialized information on the subject. Also recommended are Courtlandt Canby’s
A History of Weaponry
(vol. 4) and John Hewitt’s
Ancient Armour and Weapons in Europe
(vol. 3), as well as
The Penguin Encyclopedia of Weapons and Military Technology
.

Guillemard (p. 235) mentions the bats seen by the sailors. Albo’s description of Cebu comes from Navarrete (vol. 4, pp. 219–221).

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Two very different facets of Pigafetta’s wide-ranging interests are on display in his account of Magellan’s visit to Cebu. As a former papal diplomat, he was duty-bound, but also genuinely moved, by the Captain General’s efforts to convert the Filipinos. In addition, Pigafetta is virtually the only source on the subject. See Robertson’s translation of Pigafetta (pp. 133–169) for more details of Magellan’s religious convictions.

Pigafetta also dwells at length on
palang
, which fascinated him. The subject frequently appears in accounts of Pacific and Eastern cultures during the Age of Discovery, and even the Chinese sailors with the Treasure Fleet came across a variant of
palang
, and, like Magellan’s men, were both fascinated and appalled by the practice. In this instance,
palang
took the form of small sand-filled beads inserted into the scrotum, and when men who were thus adorned moved or walked, they made a faint noise, reminiscent of bells ringing. It was, said Ma Huan, “a most curious thing.”

In his assessment of
palang
, Pigafetta was unusually tolerant, at least by European standards. Other European visitors wrote about
palang
in censorious tones. Andres Urdaneta, the capable Spanish navigator, visited the region several times, beginning in 1525, four years after the Armada de Molucca, and he left an account of
palang
in which the Indians of Borneo fasten a “few small round stones” to the penis with a leather sleeve, while others are pierced with “a tube of silver or tin . . . and on those tubes, they put thin sticks of silver or gold at the time they want to engage with women in coitus.” In practice, the bearer of
palang
often inserted a range of objects into the tube; pig’s bristles were employed, as were bamboo shavings, beads, and even shards of glass. Urdaneta was appalled, and missionaries in the Philippines preached against it.

Antonio de Morga, a Spanish historian who wrote one of the first accounts of the Philippines, was also revolted by the practice, which he considered highly immoral, but he provided a detailed description of
palang
as practiced elsewhere in the Philippine archipelago. By the time Morga got around to describing
palang
, in 1609, it was clearly a practice on the way out, thanks to the strenuous efforts of the Catholic clergy to discourage it: “The natives . . . especially the women, are very vicious and sensual, and their wickedness has devised lewd ways of intercourse between men and women, one of which they practice from their youth onwards. The men skillfully make a hole near the head of the penis into which they insert a small serpent’s head of metal or ivory. Then they secure this by passing a small peg of the same material through the hole, so that it may not work loose. With this device they have intercourse with their wives and for long after the copulation they are unable to withdraw. They are so addicted to this, and find such pleasure in it, that although they shed a great deal of blood, and receive other injuries, it is a common practice among them. These devices are known as
sagras,
and there are very few of them left, because after they become Christians, care is taken to do away with such things and not permit their use.”

For more on the subject, see Morison (p. 435). The two articles by Tom Harrison listed in the bibliography contain the quoted descriptions.

Juan Gil, in his recent
Mitos y Utopiás del Descubrimiento
(1989), is one of the few commentators to consider the possibility that Magellan’s disaffected officers let the Mactanese slaughter him.

Simon Winchester describes the reenactment of the battle between Magellan and Lapu Lapu in “After Dire Straits, an Agonizing Haul Across the Pacific,”
Smithsonian
(pp. 84–95).

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In addition to Pigafetta and other accounts mentioned in the text, details concerning Enrique’s treachery are drawn from Gonzalo Fernandez de Oviedo y Valdez’s
Historia General y Natural de las Indias
(pp. 13ff ). Denuce (pp. 323–326) adds to the picture of the massacre’s aftermath. See also Morison (pp. 438–441) and Navarrete (vol. 4).

Concerning
San Antonio
’s return to Spain, Guillemard (p. 215) remarks that Argensola, an early and occasionally inaccurate historian, states that Cartagena and the priest were rescued by
San Antonio,
but no records support this claim. Although Guillemard (p. 216) believes
San Antonio
ran low on food during the return journey, that was likely not the case, for she carried the entire fleet’s provisions. It is possible that those aboard
San Antonio
invented this story to gain sympathy. Skelton provides the date of the ship’s arrival (p.156).

The official reports and orders concerning the mutiny of
San Antonio
and her paltry contents can be found in Licuanun and Mira,
The Philippines Under Spain
(pp. 17, 24–28, 43–44). See also Denuce (p. 293). Joyner (p. 159) says Mesquita had to pay for his trial-related costs.

Roger Merriman offers much more on King Charles’s astonishing ascent to power in
The Rise of the Spanish Empire
(vol. 3, 1925).

For accounts of daily life in sixteenth-century Seville, see Pike’s “Seville in the Sixteenth Century,”
The Hispanic American Historical Review
, vol. 41, no. 3, August 1961.

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Elcano’s ascent and the problems facing the Armada de Molucca after Magellan’s death are ably set forth in Mitchell. See especially pp. 42–48 and 63–64.

Robertson’s translation of Pigafetta carries forward into vol. 2 at this point in the narrative.

Morison’s description of Palawan appears on p. 442, and Albo’s exasperation while trying to reach Brunei can be found in Stanley (pp. 226–227).

Jones’s 1928 translation of
The Itinerary of Ludovico de Varthema of Bologna
has been quoted. Varthema’s description of the Spice Islands (pp. 88–89) offers a fairly exact preview of scenes the armada later encountered. And for more on the Bajau, see Harry Nimmo’s
The Sea People of Sulu
(1972).

Argensola’s description of the Moluccas comes from Stevens’s 1708 translation of
The Discovery and Conquest of the Molucco and Philippine Islands
(p. 7). The quotation of
The Lusíads
comes from Landeg White’s translation (p. 223).

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Barros’s harsh view of the inhabitants of the Spice Islands is cited in Charles Corn’s charming and evocative study,
The Scents of Eden
(p. 58), and in Andaya (p. 16). Given the reputation of the Spice Islands’ inhabitants, it is surprising that the armada treated them with as much civility as they did.

Antonio Galvao’s useful and vivid description of the Spice Islands’ volcanoes and rainfall can be found in his
Treatise on the Moluccas
, tr. Hubert Jacobs (1971), and
The Discoveries of the World
, tr. Richard Hakluyt (1862, originally published in 1601). Barbosa’s descriptions of cloves and Almanzor’s family are drawn from his
Description of the Coasts of East Africa and Malabar
, tr. Henry E. J. Stanley, 1866 (pp. 201–202). Andaya discusses the primacy of oral over written agreements (p. 61).

On the subject of Serrao’s curious odyssey in the Spice Islands, Guillemard offers several unsubstantiated theories. According to one scenario, he was “poisoned by a Malay woman who acted under Portuguese orders.” But Guillemard also cites Argensola’s assertion that Serrao was not poisoned at all; rather, he was sent back to India and he died aboard ship (p. 281).

Anyone wanting to learn more about cloves should start by consulting Frederic Rosengarten’s
Book of Spices
(rev. ed., 1973), especially pp. 200–204. Much of the information about spices in this chapter is drawn from this comprehensive and entertaining reference work. Other useful works on the subject include Parry’s
The Story of Spices
(1953) and Larioux Bruno’s “Spices in the Medieval Diet: A New Approach,”
Food and Foodways
, vol. 1, no. 1, 1985. Also of interest is M. N. Pearson, ed.,
Spices in the Indian Ocean World
(1996).

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It is still possible that syphilis in Timor—if that was what the sailors saw—originally came from Portugal, because the Portuguese went to China as early as 1513; the Chinese might then have carried it to Timor.

Pigafetta’s elaborate account of China relies on stories he gathered in Indonesia from a well-traveled Arab merchant. Pigafetta sketched a convincing description of the emperor’s seat, Peking: “Near his palace are seven encircling walls, and in each of those circular places are stationed ten thousand men for the guard of the place [who remain there] until a bell rings, when ten thousand other men come for each circular space. They are changed in this manner each day and night. Each circle of the wall has a gate. At the first stands a man with a large hook in his hand, called
satu horan
with
satu bagan;
in the second, a dog, called
satu hain;
in the third, a man with an iron mace, called
satu horan
with
pocum becin;
in the fourth, a man with a bow in his hand, called
satu horan
with
anat panam;
in the fifth, a man with a spear, called
satu horan
with
tumach;
in the sixth, a lion, called
satu horiman;
in the seventh, two white elephants called
gagua pute.

“The palace has seventy-nine halls which contain only women who serve the king. Torches are always kept lighted in the palace, and it takes a day to go through it. In the upper part are four halls, where the principal men go sometimes to speak to the king. One is ornamented with copper, both below and above; one all with silver; one all with gold; and the fourth with pearls and precious gems. When the king’s vassals take him gold or any other precious things as tribute, they are placed in those halls, and they say, ‘Let this be for the honor and glory of our Santhoa Raia.’ ”

Concerning the Cape of Good Hope: in Canto Five of
The Lusíads
, Luis de Camoes personified it as a mighty giant named Adamastor, who resented the intrusion of mere humans, even audacious Portuguese navigators, into his domain.

I am that vast, secret promontory
You Portuguese call the Cape of Storms,
Which neither Ptolemy, Pompey, Strabo,
Pliny, nor any authors knew of.
Here Africa ends. Here its coast
Concludes in this, my vast, inviolate
Plateau, extending southwards to the Pole
And, by your daring, stuck to my very soul.

Espinosa’s sad comment about turning back is in Levesque (p. 306).

Much of what is known about
Trinidad
’stragic end comes from Barros, whose account is skewed in favor of the Portuguese. Barros (Chapter 10) states that Brito discovered the armada’s attempts to alter the locations of various lands, and Guillemard (p. 303) approvingly quotes Brito’s callous report to the Portuguese crown about the armada’s survivors.
Trinidad
’s tragic end inspired Barros to twist events so that Brito emerges as the savior of Magellan’s men, when in fact he was happy to let them die. “The first thing he did,” Barros writes of Brito, “on request of a certain Bartolome Sanchez, clerk of that ship, whom Gonzalo Gomez de Espinosa had sent for help due to their sorry condition, was to dispatch a caravel with plenty of provisions and anchors for the ship. . . . Antonio de Brito had the crew cured and tended as carefully as they had been natives of this kingdom, and not gone to those lands to cause us trouble.” In conclusion, Barros writes, “We are free of any suspicion.”

The description of Espinosa’s travails in the Portuguese penal colony is drawn from Levesque (p. 306), Guillemard (p. 304), and Navarrete (vol. 4, pp. 378ff ).

The vignette of
Victoria
’s encountering an indifferent Portuguese vessel at the Cape of Good Hope is related by Joyner (p. 231), and Morison (p. 461) mentions
Victoria
’s multiple crossings of the equator. Joyner (p. 234) explores Burgos’s character and motives for betraying his crew members.