were deserving of punishment. To have retained these on board, after a
short period of imprisonment, was to invite another mutiny, so Magellan
determined to put the remaining mutineers on shore and leave them to
the mercy of the native Patagonians. They were seated in the boats,
were landed, and the ships sailed southward, never to return.
The men had now been away from Spain for about a year; the long and
cold winter was drawing to a close; they were plowing towards the south
with the land ever in view upon the starboard. Would they reach a point
where the ships could enter the South Sea from the Atlantic?
Magellan was determined either to die or to bring the expedition to a
successful conclusion, so one day he addressed his sailors as follows:
“My men,” said he, “the Emperor has assigned me to the course which I
am to take, and I cannot and will not depart from it under any pretext
whatsoever. If our provisions grow scarce, you can add to your rations
by fishing and hunting on the land. I _will not_ put back, under any
consideration, and if any of you speak to me again of this, I will
throw you overboard where the sharks can have a full meal.”
Seeing the determination of their leader the sailors said nothing more.
The vessels kept onward, and, having reached a point about fifty-two
degrees south of the equator, were obliged to lay to in a harbor near
the shore. The men secured an ample supply of fish, of fuel, and of
fresh water, and, thus well provided, the prows were again turned in
a southerly direction. Suddenly the coast seemed to turn westward. The
sailors saw land on either side of them: sometimes there was scarcely a
mile between coast and islands.
This began to look interesting, as if, at last, they were nearing that
unknown sea for which they searched. The prows of the caravels were now
turned due west, and, with sails well filled by tempestuous winds, the
Spanish ships plowed onward, ever onward, until they emerged from among
the rocky islands, which surrounded them, into a broad and peaceful
ocean. Hurrah! Magellan had entered the gray waters of that sea which
Balboa had seen from the palm-clad hills of the Isthmus of Panama.
It was a warm, still day when the caravels forged ahead through the
straits which were ever afterwards to bear the name of this Spanish
adventurer, and, remembering the dreary winter upon the coast of
Patagonia, Magellan named the ocean the Pacific, for all seemed beauty
and peace after the troublous times which had passed. His men scrambled
ashore, erected a huge cross, and called the place Cape Desire, a
name well suited to their hopes of finding a route to India with its
treasures of gems and of spices.
There was trouble in store for them, in spite of the pacific greeting
which the vast ocean had given them. Turning westward and northward,
for three long months the caravels tossed upon the oily swells with no
sight of land. All the provisions were finally consumed and the water
casks were almost empty. Food was obtained by soaking old leather in
sea-water to soften it, and so weak were many of the sailors that
they could not perform their duties. Nineteen died, including the two
Patagonians.
But the ocean was truly pacific, it was like glass. No storms
threatened, no tempests alarmed them, and, after sailing four thousand
miles, the adventurers suddenly were cheered by the sight of land.
Eagerly they drew near and went ashore, only to find two small,
treeless, and uninhabited islands which they called the Unfortunate
Isles. Certainly these sea rovers were having a rough time of it!
The Spaniards were upon the outskirts of Polynesia, and, as they sailed
onward, soon came upon a number of islands where they obtained plenty
of food from the dusky-hued natives who eagerly swarmed around them in
skin boats. The islanders also stole everything which they could get
their hands on, including one of the long boats, which they paddled
ashore and hid near their village. This angered the men from Castile
exceedingly, so they determined to punish the Polynesians, and that
right quickly.
Arming themselves, and putting on their steel helmets and breastplates,
the Spaniards now went ashore, shot at the natives with their guns,
drove them from their village, smashed their canoes, and burned their
huts. After killing seven of the yelping brown-skins, they seized their
lost boat, rowed it back to the ship, hoisted sail, and left for other
scenes. Magellan revenged himself further by calling these islands the
_Insular Latronum_, or “Islands of Thieves.” They are now called the
Ladrones.
It was the month of March, 1521. The air was balmy and the navigators
much enjoyed the sight of many beauteous islands in the South Sea.
They landed upon one of them, pitched a tent for the accommodation of
the sick, and killed a stout porker which they had obtained from the
thieving natives. After their diet of leather, soaked in sea water,
this fresh meat was appreciated. In fact they had a good, old-fashioned
banquet, such as one is accustomed to on Thanksgiving day. After this
they chanted the _Te Deum_ and had a siesta beneath the shadows of the
trees.
They had remained here about a week when nine men came paddling up in
a canoe, and brought presents of cocoa-wine and some golden trinkets.
These were eagerly accepted, and the visitors rowed away, promising by
signs to return in four days with flesh, fowls, and rice. This promise
they kept, and, when they arrived, offered to exchange various kinds
of spices and articles made of gold, for the beads and trinkets which
the Spaniards showed them. Magellan wished to impress the natives with
his reserve power, so he ordered one of the cannon to be discharged,
while the visitors were on board his vessel. This so frightened them
that they ran to the gunwale in order to jump into the sea. The sailors
interfered, and, assuring them of the friendliness of the Admiral, soon
had them quieted.
Leaving this island behind them, the Spaniards now steered west and
southwest, and, after a run of three days, anchored near a large body
of land which was inhabited by a tribe of brown-skinned natives, who
seemed to be well-disposed towards these strange foreigners. Magellan
presented the King with a red and yellow garment made long and flowing,
and gave his principal courtiers knives and glass beads.
The Spaniards were well received by these people, so well received, in
fact, that the King of the island offered to furnish them with pilots
when they wished to sail away. This offer was accepted, and, steering
westward, they soon reached another island, called Zubut, where they
learned that a vessel manned by a Portuguese crew, and having a cargo
of gold and of slaves, had anchored opposite the capital only the
day before Magellan’s arrival, and had offered tribute to the King.
Rendered bold by this deference, the native proceeded to exact tribute
from Magellan, informing him that all who came to his dominions were
obliged to pay it.
“I cannot pursue the same course that these Portuguese have done,”
answered Magellan. “For the King of Portugal is a far less powerful
monarch than he whom I serve, for my Emperor has such power that his
subjects pay tribute to no one. If, therefore, you persist in your
claim, you may find yourself involved in a war with one who will crush
you at the first conflict.”
These words made the bold native reflect, and, as a Moorish trader,
who was present, informed him that what he told him was the truth, the
monarch asked for a day in which to consider his answer to Magellan’s
refusal. In the meantime he entertained the sailors right royally.
While deliberating how to gracefully withdraw from the arrogant
position which he had assumed, the savage ruler was visited by the
native monarch who had accompanied Magellan on board his ship from the
island which he had recently visited. This fellow spoke so well of the
Admiral that his words had great weight with the proud islander. The
demand for tribute was withdrawn, and the people of the island entered
eagerly into traffic with the newcomers, who became missionaries and
preached the Christian faith with so much earnestness, that, within a
very short time, the whole territory was converted to the religion of
Jesus Christ. The native idols were destroyed and crosses were erected
in many places.
After a lengthy stay at this island, the Spaniards again went on board
their ships, and, sailing away, reached the Philippine Islands, which
were called Mathan by the natives. Here were two native rulers, Tual
and Cilapulapu, whom Magellan summoned to pay tribute to the King of
Spain. The first acceded to his demand, the second refused indignantly
to do so.
This roused the hot blood of the Castilian adventurer, and he
determined to enforce his claim with cold steel. He, therefore, chose
sixty of his bravest men, armed them with coats of mail and steel
helmets, and, taking to the boats, soon landed. They marched inland in
order to chastise this independent ruler.
Cilapulapu had hastily collected all of his fighting men, arranged them
in three divisions, and awaited the oncoming Spaniards. His soldiers
were many—there were two thousand in each division, or six thousand in
all—armed with spears, lances, darts, javelins, and arrows dipped in
poison. The Spaniards little knew what they were marching against, yet,
like Custer at the Little Big Horn, they kept on moving. And, like
Custer, there was soon to be an equally severe defeat.
The mail-clad Castilians advanced boldly through the jungle to where
the enemy was lying concealed, and there a shower of arrows beat down
upon them, rattling like hail upon their steel coats. Many of the barbs
were turned aside, but some penetrated the joints of the armor, and,
entering the skin of the Spaniards, sent the deadly poison coursing
through their veins.
Magellan urged on his followers by voice and waving sword, but, as
he led the advance, a sharp barb penetrated a joint of his armor,
and forced the deadly poison into his blood. The enemy now rushed in
on every side, in overwhelming numbers, and showered their javelins
upon the sixty brave soldiers of Castile. The wounded leader bravely
endeavored to direct his men, in spite of his injury, but, as he
shouted his battle-cry, a cane-lance struck him full in the face. The
blow was fatal and he sank dead upon the ground.
His soldiers were now almost surrounded. Eight of them were killed, the
rest retreated (as best they might) to the beach, leaving the body of
their dead leader in the hands of the exultant savages, who made the
air hideous with their exultant battle-cries.
[Illustration: THE DEATH OF MAGELLAN]
So died the brave Portuguese navigator, on an island which was to
belong to the Spanish Crown for many, many years. He had fallen as he
had always wished to do, in the front of battle, and, although his
followers endeavored to secure his body from the wild Filipinos, they
were unable to do so. Their emissary to the barbarous Cilapulapu was
murdered by this wily monarch, and, seeing that it was impossible to
remain longer in this region, the navigators sailed away, bitterly
cursing their misfortune in losing such a brave and courageous leader.
* * * * *
Reduced to forty-six in number, the survivors of this expedition of
adventure and discovery continued their journey among the various
islands of Polynesia until February, 1522, when they passed the
extremity of Molucca, and, keeping outside of Sumatra, sailed due west
toward the eastern coast of Africa. Twenty-one of the forty-six died
of hunger before they reached the Cape Verde Islands, where, sending
deputies ashore to represent their pitiable condition to the Portuguese
authorities, they were allowed some rice, which was quickly disposed
of. Thirteen of the sailors went on shore again to secure a further
supply of provisions, but the Portuguese considered that they had done
quite enough for them, so seized them and threw them into prison. The
others, panic-stricken, hoisted sail, and, without endeavoring to
release their companions, set out for their beloved Spain.
On September the seventh, 1522, twelve miserable-looking Spanish
sailors landed at the port of St. Lucar, near Seville. They were
ragged, bare-foot, and gaunt from hunger. Proceeding to the Cathedral,
they sank to their knees and thanked God for their preservation, for,
out of the two hundred and thirty-seven who had sailed gayly away from
Seville more than three years before, these were all that remained to
tell the tale.
And it was a pretty good tale they had to tell, for they had been the
first white men to circumnavigate the globe. But the bones of their
gallant leader lay among the wild and bloodthirsty natives of the
Philippine Islands, with not even a stone to mark the last resting
place of the brave and energetic Portuguese mariner.
GIOVANNI VERRAZANO:
FIRST NAVIGATOR TO EXPLORE THE
COAST OF NEW JERSEY AND
NEW YORK.
(1480-1527)
GIOVANNI VERRAZANO:
FIRST NAVIGATOR TO EXPLORE THE
COAST OF NEW JERSEY AND
NEW YORK.
(1480-1527)
IT was a calm, still day off the coast of Spain. A light, southerly
breeze rippled the surface of the water, and, if you had been standing
on the Cape St. Vincent, you would have seen the sails of six vessels
which were headed for the shore. If you had been nearer, you would have
seen that here were three Spanish galleons of war and three treasure
ships from far distant Hispaniola, on the Isthmus of Panama. They were
loaded with gold, with silver, and with spices, which had been sent to
the King of Spain by Hernando Cortés, conqueror of Montezuma and the
Mexican people.
But, ah! what is this!
As the treasure ships and their convoys approached the shore, suddenly
a fleet of six vessels could be seen boiling along under full canvas,
and rushing to meet them. They were armed corsairs under Juan Florin,
fitted out at New Rochelle, in France, and having on board a man who
was to have some prominence in later years, as he was to be the first
European to view the broad salt marshes of New Jersey. This was
Giovanni Verrazano, a Florentine navigator, who, like all the mariners
in those days, was a sea robber, a pirate, and an explorer.
The Spanish ships were about thirty-five miles from the shore, and
rollicked along right merrily, under a full spread of canvas. Their
steermen thought, no doubt, that these were friendly vessels coming to
greet them and to convoy them home. But in an hour they found out their
mistake. The flag of France flew defiantly at the mast-heads of the
oncoming galleons, and, as they drew near, cannon were trained upon the
Spaniards and balls began to fly dangerously close. One of the treasure
ships turned around and took flight, but the others had to fight it out.
Now was a sharp little battle. Around and around went the boats,
banging away at a good rate; but the French corsairs were accurate
marksmen and were keen to win, for they longed for all that Mexican
gold. At the end of two hours’ time the French were alongside, had
boarded, and the yellow flag of Spain came fluttering to the decks of
the galleons from the coast of Mexico. The treasure of Cortés was to
find a safe home on the shores of Merrie France.
The King of Spain was deeply grieved to hear of this loss and thereupon
ordered all homeward-bound vessels to rendezvous at Hispaniola, in
order to be safely convoyed to Spain. He also offered one-half of the
treasure captured to any Spaniard who would chase the French and get
back that which had been stolen. Hernando Cortés, too, was greatly
disappointed when he heard of this loss, but he took measure to avoid
such mishaps in the future. As for Verrazano: he reaped such a large
share of this treasure, that he soon owned some vessels of his own.
For several years this Florentine corsair, now sailing under the flag
of France, made it a business to lie in wait for treasure ships coming
from Mexico, and the West Indies, to the shores of Spain. He did well,
captured many a prize, and on one occasion took a Portuguese ship
bringing from the Indies a freight valued at 180,000 ducats. He grew
rich and prosperous, and, as he was of an adventurous disposition,
determined to, himself, sail to the New World, and make an attempt to
find that passage to Cathay, for which all European navigators were
then searching. The Spaniards, at this time, had just about given up
all hope of finding Asia connected with the continent of North America.
In the year 1522, with four ships, Verrazano turned his face towards
America and started across the Atlantic. But fierce storms beset his
path; he was driven back to the coast of Brittany, where his vessels,
badly damaged by wind and waves, were refitted. After this he gathered
a fleet of armed caravels, cruised southward into Spanish waters,
took several prizes, and then returned. This was in the Spring of
1524. He then determined to sail for the land of America, in one ship,
the _Dauphine_. He took fifty men, with ammunition, arms, and stores
sufficient to last them for eight months, and turned the prow of the
trim little vessel towards the west.
Heading straight across the broad Atlantic, Verrazano and his
Frenchmen passed north of the Bermuda Islands, and, drifting northward
in the Gulf Stream, sighted land about the sixth day of March. Many
fires were seen on the beach, made by the Indians, who flocked to
the shore at this season to feast on shell fish and to manufacture
_wampum_, or shell money. The explorers were off the coast of New
Jersey, probably near Cape May.
Verrazano was much pleased to see that he had reached the shores of
America and ordered a boat to land. As the sailors scrambled up on the
sandy beach, a number of natives came down to the shore; but fled as
the white men approached, sometimes stopping, and turning about, gazing
with much curiosity at the white-skinned navigators. Being reassured
by signs that they would not be injured, some of them came near, and,
looking with wonder at the dress and complexions of the foreigners,
offered them food. This was accepted, and then the sailors returned to
their vessel.
The explorers sailed northward, again landed, and, going inland, found
this to be a country full of very great forests. They marveled at
the many trees and shrubs which stretched away in unbroken splendor.
Verrazano was undoubtedly in the harbor of New York, at this time,
and saw Shrewsbury River, the Kills, and the Narrows. He says: “The
land has many lakes and ponds of fresh water, with numerous kinds of
birds adapted to all the pleasures of the chase. The winds do not blow
fiercely in these regions and those which prevail are northwest and
west.”
[Illustration: GIOVANNI VERRAZANO]
Leaving New York harbor, the explorers followed the coastline, and
sailed along the shores of Long Island, where they saw many great fires
made by the native inhabitants. Approaching the beach in order to get
water, the Captain ordered the boat to land, with twenty-five men, but
there was such high surf that it was impossible to do so. Many Indians
came down to the sand, making friendly signs, and pointing to where the
white men might gain a footing.
Rockaway Bay was a great resort of the Indians for the purpose of
manufacturing _wampum_ or _seawan_, the money of the native Americans.
Numerous shell beds now line the shore where the manufacture was
carried on. The navigators must have therefore landed on Rockaway
Beach, where the shore-line meets the narrow and barren outer-bar,
which for over seventy miles separates the ocean from the bay, or
lagoons, behind it.
Still coasting along, the keen Verrazano went ashore again near Quogue
or Bridgehampton, where he found the place full of forests of various
kinds of woods, but not as odoriferous as those on the Jersey shore;
the country being more northerly and colder. Here the Indians again
fled into the thickets, as the white men approached, but the Frenchmen
saw many of their boats, made of a single log twenty feet long and four
feet wide, hollowed out with sharp knives and axes.
After remaining here three days, the navigators departed, running along
the coast in a northerly direction, sailing by day and dropping anchor
at night. At the end of a journey of a hundred miles they found a
very pleasant place, indeed, where a large river, deep at its mouth,
ran into the sea between high cliffs upon either side. The explorers
proceeded up the curving stream in a boat and soon found themselves
surrounded by the redskins in canoes, these natives being dressed with
bird feathers of gay colors. They came towards the Frenchmen, joyfully,
and emitted great shouts of admiration.
The sailors ascended the river for about half a mile, “where,” says
Verrazano, “we saw a fine lake about three miles in circumference
through which were passing many canoes of the red men.” But a violent
wind sprang up, so that the explorers had to return to their ships,
“leaving the land,” continues Verrazano, “with much regret, as the
hills there showed minerals.” The navigators had entered the river
Thames, the vessel being anchored well within Fisher’s Island, where
many a steam-yacht would afterwards cast its anchor, while the sailors
would watch the rival crews of Yale and Harvard, as they battled for
supremacy on the waters of the shimmering stream.
But the navigators would not remain to make friends with the Indians,
and, weighing anchor, sailed eastward, where they saw an island,
triangular in form, distant about ten miles from the mainland, full of
hills and covered with trees. Judging from the fires which they viewed
along the shore, the Frenchmen considered it to be thickly inhabited.
This was Block Island, but the sunburned explorers called it Louisa
Island, after the mother of King Francis the First, of far distant
France.
Fourteen miles from Block Island is Narragansett Bay, and hither the
_Dauphine_ was headed, anchoring first at its mouth, then between
Goat Island and the present town of Newport. Immediately the vessel
was surrounded by canoes, filled with wondering savages, who at first
did not venture to approach the ships, but, stopping about fifty paces
away, gazed in silent admiration at the strange object which had risen,
as if by magic, before them. Then, all of a sudden, they broke into a
loud shout of joy.
The Frenchmen crowded to the rail, reassuring the natives and imitating
their gestures. The Indians therefore, came nearer, and, as they
approached, the navigators threw them bells, mirrors, and other
trinkets, which they picked up, laughing, and then paddled up to the
sides of the great hulk. Catching hold of the gunwales with their
hands, they crawled up on the deck, saying: “Ugh! Ugh!”
Among the visitors were two kings, one of whom seemed to be about
forty, the other twenty-four years of age. The elder was arrayed in
a robe of deer skins, skillfully wrought with rich embroidery; his
head was bare and his hair was carefully tied behind him; his neck
was adorned by a large chain, set off with various colored stones.
The dress of the younger monarch was nearly like that of his elder
companion.
The followers of these kings crowded around them, “and,” says
Verrazano, “they were the most beautiful and genteel-mannered people I
had met in all the voyage.” Their complexions were remarkably clear;
their features regular, their hair long, and dressed with no ordinary
degree of care; their eyes black and lively. Their whole aspect was
pleasing, and their profiles reminded the Frenchmen of the busts of
the ancients. The wives and daughters of the native Narragansetts were
not allowed to come on board, and had to wait for their husbands in the
canoes. These, too, were richly dressed in deer and beaver skins. The
early inhabitants of Newport, it seems, were as gaudily arrayed as were
their white-skinned descendants to be many centuries later.
The Frenchmen lingered here for more than two weeks, while Verrazano
made numerous trips into the many estuaries of Narragansett Bay,
finding a pleasant country with all kinds of cultivation going on.
Corn was being grown; wine and oil were being manufactured by the
native inhabitants. The corsair was particularly struck with the total
ignorance shown by the natives of the value of gold, and the preference
which they gave for beads and for toys, over more costly objects. So,
in trade, he was able to get many valuable furs and skins for a few,
shining, glass beads.