THE MUTINY AT PORT JULIAN.--THE STRAITS.--1519.
Days of mutiny came in the cold waters.
The spirit of disloyalty that had found expression in the inspector
broke out anew at Port St. Julian. It spread through the officers and
crews of three of the ships. These caused to be published the resolution
that they would sail no farther.
"You are leading us to destruction," said the mutineers.
Luis de Mendoza, Captain of the Victoria, the treasurer of the
expedition, was a leader of the mutiny. Another disturbing spirit was
Gasper de Queixada, Captain of the Concepcion.
Magellan, of the kind heart, had, as we have seen, the resolution to
meet emergencies. This expedition was his life. It must not be opposed,
hindered, or thwarted. He lived in his purpose. He must stamp out the
mutiny. He no more used gentle and courteous words. He thundered his
will.
One day Ambrosia Fernandez, his constable, came to him, and said:
"Three crews are ready to mutiny, to force you to go back."
Magellan saw that he must make the leaders of these ships his prisoners,
or that he would become theirs.
"Constable," he said, "pick out sixty trusty men and arm them well. Go
with them on board the treasurer's ship, and arrest Mendoza and lay him
dead on the deck."
The fleet was moored in line. It was flood tide, and Mendoza's ship rode
astern of Magellan's, and the ship of Queixada, ahead.
Magellan prepared his own crew to face the consequences of a tragedy
should one occur. He ordered his hawser to be attached to the cable, and
called his crew to arms.
When the flood tide was at its height, Fernandez, the constable,
prepared to execute his order.
He appeared before the ship of the mutinous Mendoza, and asked to be
received on board.
"Back to your own ship," said the mutineer. "I command the Victoria."
"But we are few against many," said the constable, "and I have a message
from the Admiral which I must deliver."
He was helped on board the Victoria.
His feet had no sooner touched the deck than he seized Mendoza.
"I arrest you in the name of the Emperor."
The armed men that the constable had left on the boat rushed on board.
The crew of the Victoria, stood aghast. They saw the power of the
Admiral's mind.
Magellan brought his ship alongside the Victoria.
He led his armed crew on board the Victoria, and halted before a
terrible scene. Mendoza had been stabbed by the constable, and the crew
of the Victoria plead for mercy, and promised to be loyal to the
Admiral.
In this hour of tragedy and terror Magellan bore his ship around to
Queixada's, and made the officers and crew of the Concepcion his
prisoners. The leaders of the mutiny were executed. It was a necessity.
Magellan caused also the sentence he had imposed on the inspector and
his accomplice to be carried out here.
Carthagena and Sanches were led from their prison to the shore.
As the sails were being lifted to depart, they were marooned--left with
some provisions, among which were some bottles of wine, on the desert
shore.
There were hearts that pitied them as the ships sailed away. There was
_one_ who plotted to rescue them. It was Gormez.
They left them some biscuits with the bottles of wine.
"It is the last bread they will ever eat," said their companions.
"And the last wine that they will ever drink," said a loyal priest on
board.
But there was one on board that shook his head.
If he could have his will the two would eat bread and drink wine again
in the convents of beautiful Seville.
The execution of the disloyal Spaniards again awakened the jealousy of
Gormez. He probably began to plan about this time to separate the
Antonio from the expedition, and lead her back to Spain. His heart was
with the inspector and friar far away on the desolate shore.
The ships sailed away, and the marooned priests saw them disappear.
"They were cast aside for opposing a madman," reasoned Gormez. "Magellan
is no fit leader of an expedition. If I had full command of the Antonio,
I would rescue the inspector, if I were to find him alive."
But he could not take the Antonio back while Mesquita, Magellan's loyal
cousin, was in command. Had he breathed a breath of disloyalty in the
presence of this Portuguese, he might have himself been deposed from his
position and marooned, as had been the inspector and the friar.
A dark plot began to form in the pilot's mind. If he could incite the
crew against Mesquita in some hour of peril, he might cause him to be
imprisoned on his own ship, and then he could succeed to the command,
and take the Antonio back to Spain.
And he would also endeavor to rescue the inspector and the friend of the
inspector who had been marooned. If he could rescue them and take them
back with him to Spain, they would be powerful witnesses for him against
Magellan.
Gormez now waited his opportunity. A jealous man seeks for a principle
of life to ease his conscience and justify evil deeds. Gormez had two
principles to sustain him in his disloyalty. The one was that he could
lead a better expedition, and the other the merciful rescue of his two
companions who had been marooned for the same opinions that he had from
the first carried in his heart. So calling treachery, loyalty and
sympathy, he awaited an hour favorable to his plan.
If he could return to Spain he would offer his services to Portugal or
to Spain to lead an expedition to the Spice Islands that should be
conducted in some more promising way than by the winter seas.
As the ships sailed on into the clouds and cold, the sailors were filled
with apprehension. But the farol still shone at night like a star in the
changing atmosphere. They had expected that the extremity of South
America would point West, but this was not the case. Whither were they
tending?
It was the middle of October. The water grew colder and the land became
more desolate. Suddenly a bay appeared and the continent seemed to part.
The sea poured its tides to the East amid towering mountains, and a
strait appeared, which now bears the name of Magellan.
The soul of the Admiral thrilled. It was the fulfillment of his visions.
He called the opening to the swift channel Cape Virgins, as he
discovered it on the day on which the Church commemorated the martyrdom
of the "eleven thousand virgins."
His lone lantern entered the straits. The way was toward the East.
Magellan sent the ship Antonio, which was commanded by his cousin Alvaro
de Mesquita, to explore the bay, of which ship Gormez still held the
position of pilot. The mutineer's hour had come.
The pilot entered the bay, but presently a powerful tide carried the
ship back, and beyond the sight of the flag and the lantern of Magellan.
The jealous Portuguese had seen enough to know that great perils were
before the fleet or that a glory like to that of Columbus was now likely
to fall to the lot of Magellan. He determined to be revenged upon the
Admiral for supplanting him in accepting the favors of the King.
He called the crew secretly about him.
"You are rushing on to ruin," he said. "I can take you back to Spain.
Put Mesquita in irons, and let us return. Mesquita advised Magellan to
execute our comrades!"
The crew, overcome by the perils of the situation, obeyed the pilot.
Mesquita was placed in irons, and the pilot bore the Antonio away from
the wintry seas, and turned her prow toward Spain.
But untrue as the sailors were to Magellan, he was true to them. He
delayed the expedition for their return, and sent out the Victoria in
search of them. The Victoria's crew planted signal standards, under
which were letters.
Now perhaps for the first time Magellan was master of the expedition. He
supposed at first that the Antonio had become lost in the terrible
tides, but he still suspected treachery.
As the fleet entered the straits, the hills at night blazed with fires.
The explorers thought these fires were volcanoes. They were signal fires
kindled by the natives. Magellan gave the place the name of "Tierra del
Fuego"--the "Land of Fire," a name that it still bears.
The water ran icy cold. Peaks of crystal towered above the straits, and
the sublimities of mountain desolations everywhere appeared. So amid
awful chasms of the sea, now white with snows, now dark with shadows,
the little fleet glided on, the farol in the air at night, and all eyes
strained with wonder to see what new disclosure this strait would
bring.
What must have been the reflection of Magellan as the mysteries of the
new world lifted before his eyes?
Joy is the compensation of suffering, and if his happiness was as great
as his trials had been, he must have indeed known thrilling moments. He
had dared, and he had achieved.
He wondered at the fate of the Antonio, as the days went by. He indeed
thought her lost, but yet hoped that she might appear.
"She has deserted us," ventured a loyal officer.
"No," reasoned the Admiral. "Mesquita would never desert me."
He was right. There were many true hearts that made the voyage like Del
Cano's, but no heart was truer to Magellan than Mesquita's; and true
hearts know and love each other.
The ships glided on slowly, without the Antonio. They had two new
passengers in the giants whose lives must have been filled with wonder
on ship-board.