Over the Edge of the World: Magellen's Terrifying Circumnavigation of the Globe (44 page)

BOOK: Over the Edge of the World: Magellen's Terrifying Circumnavigation of the Globe
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This was a hazardous crossing, replete with shoals and sandbanks, and the fleet needed the pilots’ assistance to reach Brunei. Even Albo, the resolute pilot, became agitated on this leg of the journey. “You must know that it is necessary to go close to land, because outside there are many shoals,” he complained in a rare outburst, “and it is necessary to go with the sounding lead in your hand, because it is a very vile coast, and Brunei is a large city, and has a very large bay, and inside it and without it there are many shoals; it is necessary to have a pilot of the country.” Reaching the mouth of the harbor, the fleet followed junks whose pilots were familiar with the route to safety. At last, they dropped anchor in the harbor of Brunei, in the midst of a realm of enchantment and luxury that would surpass anything they had previously experienced on the voyage.

 

T
he next day, July 9, what appeared to be a
proa
appeared on the horizon, but as it approached, the crew realized it was a much larger vessel “whose bow and stern were worked in gold. At the bow flew a white and blue banner surmounted with peacock feathers.” Trailing the ornamental
proa
were two smaller vessels. To add to the theatrical nature of the scene, musicians on board serenaded the shocked Europeans. “Some of the men were playing on musical instruments and drums,” Pigafetta noted in disbelief.

The
proa’s
crew signaled with elaborate gestures that they wished to board, and “eight old men, who were chiefs, entered the ships and took seats in the stern upon a carpet. They presented us with a painted wooden jar full of betel and areca (the fruit which they chew continually), and jasmine”—a shrub whose white and yellow flowers released a soft, almost cloying scent into the sea-permeated air—as well as orange blossoms, whose sweet intoxicating perfume the crew members had not sampled since Seville. The old chiefs brought much more: bolts of yellow silk cloth, two cages filled with flapping fowl, jars filled with sublime rice wine, and bundles of sugarcane. After depositing their offerings aboard
Trinidad,
the chiefs did the same with
Victoria.

Their generosity toward the armada likely stemmed from a case of mistaken identity. Most of these regions had been visited by the Portuguese, who, traveling a different route, had pioneered trading relationships with the local Arab rulers. Ginés de Mafra described the rajah of Brunei as a “friend of the Portuguese and an enemy to the Castilian, whom he hates.” That made the Armada de Molucca an interloper, but many of the crew were Portuguese and appeared to be the latest emissaries of the Portuguese crown.

That night, the men, craving distraction from their trials, tasted the local rice wine, found it to their liking, and drank themselves into oblivion.

 

T
he fleet remained anchored off Brunei for six peaceful days, allowing the men to recover, at least partially, from the violence that had marked the last few weeks. From the decks of their ships, the men could see an assortment of elevated houses constructed over a complicated series of waterways, piers, and boardwalks. Behind the city, tall palms stood as sentries. At night, dim fires flickered in the distance and sent slender plumes skyward. If the sailors listened carefully, they could hear faint voices from the shore echoing across the surface of the water, or even a kind of primitive music consisting of gongs and bells and chanting. It was a scene of domestic tranquillity transplanted to an exotic setting, but the men were afraid to leave their ships and explore the unknown.

The fleet’s isolation ended when their benefactor dispatched a convoy of
proas
to beguile and seduce them. Arriving “with great pomp,” Pigafetta wrote, they “encircled the ships with musical instruments playing and drums and brass gongs beating. They saluted us with their peculiar cloth caps which cover only the top of their heads. We saluted them by firing our mortars without stones [bullets]. Then they gave us a present of various kinds of food, made only of rice. Some were wrapped in leaves and were made in somewhat longish pieces, some resembled sugarloaves, while others were made in the manner of tarts with eggs and honey. They told us that their king was willing to let us get water and wood, and to trade at our pleasure.”

The king’s messenger promised to help them with all their needs. “The messenger was an old man,” de Mafra recalled, “handsome and well-dressed. He wore gold jewelry on his fingers, neck, and ears.” He wanted to know where they were going, and when they spoke of the Moluccas, he scoffed; there was nothing there but cloves, he advised, but if they were determined to go, he would supply a pilot for each ship. “For this our men thanked him, and then asked whether there was in that land any pitch with which to caulk the ships.” After months in tropical water, the hulls badly needed reconditioning. The messenger explained that “they caulked their own boats with a pitch they made with coconut oil and wax, for which they could send out some people to town, where they could find many things to buy.” And again he invited the men to stay awhile and sample the pleasures of Brunei.

The repeated entreaties from the mysterious island ruler eventually had their intended effect, and the crew members reciprocated by sending a delegation consisting of Gonzalo Gómez de Espinosa, the master-at-arms, still on the job; Elcano, the would-be Captain General; two Greek sailors; Carvalho’s illegitimate Brazilian son; Pigafetta; and one other sailor. The delegation transferred from
Trinidad
to the
proa,
bearing gifts salvaged from the wreckage of the fleet: “a green velvet robe made in the Turkish manner, a violet velvet chair, five
brazas
of cloth, a cap, a gilded drinking glass, a covered glass vase, three writing books of paper, and gilded writing case.” The crew thoughtfully brought along separate tributes for the queen, should there be one: “Three
brazas
of yellow cloth, a pair of silvered shoes, and a silvered needle case full of needles.”

 

A
fter a short trip over water, the delegation reached an elaborate city “entirely built in salt water,” said Pigafetta, “except the houses of the king and certain chiefs. It contains twenty-five thousand fires”—that is to say, hearths indicating family units. “The houses are all constructed of wood and built up from the ground on tall pillars. When the tide is high, the women go in boats through the settlement, selling the articles necessary to maintain life. There is a large brick wall in front of the king’s house with towers like a fort, in which were mounted fifty-six bronze pieces, and six of iron.” The gunpowder for these weapons was likely imported from China, where it was invented. After months of drifting among more primitive (though none the less dangerous) tribes, the armada had finally reached a civilization at least as advanced as their own.

After waiting in the
proa
for two hours, Pigafetta, Elcano, and the others were rewarded with the spectacle of “two elephants with silk trappings, and twelve men, each of whom carried a porcelain jar covered with silk in which to carry our presents.” The members of the delegation were invited to mount the elephants, and from their swaying eyries, they surveyed the landscape. Their grins can be readily imagined. The elephants lurched forward, carrying the members of the armada toward the dwelling of the “governor,” while “twelve men preceded us afoot with the presents in the jars.”

Reaching their destination, the elephants knelt, discharging their astonished passengers, who immediately sat down to a great feast. After they ate and drank their way into a state of pleasant stupefaction, they were treated to “cotton mattresses, whose lining was of taffeta and the sheets of Cambaia.” It was the first night the men had slept on mattresses and linen since they had left Seville, but few remained awake long enough to savor the sublime comfort, because they fell into a deep sleep. As they slept, servants constantly tended large candles fashioned from white wax and oil lamps, adjusting the wicks and finally snuffing them when the sun rose.

 

A
t noon the next day, the men awoke and remounted the elephants and proceeded to the king’s palace, while onlookers treated them with a respect reserved for great dignitaries. “All the streets from the governor’s to the king’s house were full of men with swords, spears, and shields, for such were the king’s orders.” Dismounting, they passed through a courtyard to a “large hall full of many nobles,” perhaps as many as three hundred, and came upon an extraordinary scene: “We sat down upon a carpet with the presents in the jars near us. At the end of that hall there is another hall higher but somewhat smaller. It was all adorned with silk hangings, and two windows, through which light entered the hall . . . opened from it. There were three hundred foot soldiers with naked rapiers at their thighs to guard the king. At the end of the small hall was a large window from which a brocade curtain was drawn aside so that we could see within it the king seated at a table with one of his young sons, chewing betel. No one but women were behind him.” They were cautioned not to speak directly to the king. Should they wish to say anything, they were to inform a servant, who would pass it on to a functionary of slightly higher rank, who would then tell the governor’s brother, who would in turn whisper the message through a “speaking-tube” passing through the wall, where another servant would intercept it and relay it to the king. As if that were not sufficiently off-putting, they were instructed to kowtow. “The chief taught us the manner of making three obeisances to the king with our hands clasped above the head, raising first one foot and then the other and then kissing the hands toward him, and we did so, that being the method of the royal obeisance.”

Once they had completed these formalities, Pigafetta explained that they wished only to make peace and to trade. The king, through his intermediaries, happily cooperated. Take water and wood, he offered, trade as you wish, and he ordered his minions to place a cloth made of gold and silk brocade on his visitors’ shoulders. For a moment, they resembled their hosts, “all attired in cloth of gold and silk which covered their privies,” and carrying “daggers with gold hafts adorned with pearls and precious gems,” but then the ornamental cloth was quickly and mysteriously removed. Of greater importance, the king conferred samples of cinnamon and cloves, the spices his guests had been seeking for nearly two years. It appeared they were now on the Spice Islands’ doorstep. “That king is a Moro,” or Muslim, Pigafetta observed, “and his name is Rajah Siripada. He was forty years old and corpulent. No one serves him except women who are daughters of the chiefs. He never goes outside of his palace, unless he goes hunting.” No less than ten scribes wrote down his every action “on very thin tree bark.” These people also had a written language, another indication of how advanced they were.

Ceremony pervaded every aspect of life in Brunei, and after the audience with Rajah Siripada, the Europeans were ceremoniously returned atop elephants to the “governor’s house” accompanied by seven bearers carrying the presents bestowed on them by the ruler. When they dismounted, each man received his present, which the bearers carefully placed on the left shoulder, and in return, “We gave each of those men a couple of knives for his trouble.” That evening, nine servants came to the house, each man carrying a large tray, and “each tray contained ten or twelve porcelain dishes full of veal, capons, chickens, peacocks, and other animals, and fish.” Pigafetta claims they dined on thirty-two different kinds of meat, in addition to the fish. “At each mouthful of food we drank a small cupful of their distilled wine from a porcelain cup the size of an egg. We ate rice and other sweet food with gold spoons like ours.”

Even now, nearly a century after the era of the Treasure Fleet, Chinese wares were everywhere. Pigafetta mentions porcelain (“a kind of very white earthenware”); silk; and, amazingly enough, “iron spectacles.” Eyeglasses are thought to have been invented in Venice, but it appears likely that the Chinese also developed techniques for grinding glass, and this technology had found its way to Brunei. Even the kingdom’s currency revealed a pronounced Chinese influence. “The money coined by the Moors in those parts is of metal, pierced at the center for stringing. And it bears only, on one side, four marks, which are letters of the great king of China.” All the men were curious to inspect two giant pearls “as large as eggs” owned by the king. “They are so round they cannot lie still on a table,” Pigafetta marveled. After considerable negotiation, and even more tributes, the officers of the armada made their wishes known, and the king reluctantly displayed the two giant pearls.

After their second night ashore, the delegation rode by elephant back to the ocean, and boarded their crude and confined ships. The familiar creaks filled their ears, and the familiar reek of stagnant water filled their nostrils. Not everyone returned, however. According to Ginés de Mafra, only four men made it back to the fleet while three—the two Greek sailors and Carvalho’s son—remained ashore. (De Mafra forgot to mention that Elcano and Espinosa were also among the missing.) The Europeans suspected that they were all being held against their will and anxiously awaited their safe return.

 

S
hortly after dawn on July 29, more than one hundred
proas,
organized into three groups, appeared out of nowhere, bearing down on the armada.

For the first time since the massacre three months earlier, the crew feared for their lives. They broke out their halberds, crossbows, and arquebuses, knowing that they were badly outnumbered, because each
proa
carried a full complement of warriors. To complicate matters, two great junks—de Mafra claims three—had anchored just behind the armada during the night. No one aboard
Trinidad
or
Victoria
noticed the junks at the time, but it now appeared that the
proas
intended to drive the armada toward the junks, whose crew would overwhelm the Europeans and take them as prisoners, or worse.

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