Above all, Seville was a commercial center, “well adapted to every profitable undertaking, and as much was brought there to sell as was bought, because there are merchants for everything,” in the words of a sixteenth-century observer. “It is the common homeland, the endless globe, the mother of orphans, and the cloak of sinners, where everything is a necessity and no one has it.” Only Seville was capable of providing Magellan with the technology, the labor, and the financial resources to travel halfway around the world in search of lands to claim and spices to bring back to Europe.
It was also a city of faith, the home of the third largest church in the world, after Saint Peter’s in Rome and Saint Paul’s in London. Work on Seville’s cathedral continued for well over a hundred years, until 1519, the year Magellan set sail for the Spice Islands. With its bell tower, vaults, chambers, and fantastic amalgam of Gothic, Greco-Roman, and Arabic architecture, the cathedral became the expression of Seville’s striving, a world unto itself. The flame of the Catholic faith burned most brightly in Seville during Semana Santa, Holy Week, lasting from Palm Sunday to Easter Sunday, when solemn, almost frightening processions of religious penitents coursed through the city’s narrow, winding streets and capacious squares. The penitents walked barefoot over the sharp stones and splinters embedded in the streets, bearing a wooden cross, their feet bleeding, displaying their wounds in emulation of Jesus. This was an act of piety straight out of the Middle Ages, a demonstration of blind obedience to an omnipotent Lord, a recognition of and mastery over mortal suffering, and an acknowledgment of humankind’s sinful state. As such, it served as good practice for the rigors and pains of a voyage of discovery.
As Magellan and Faleiro arrived in Seville to commence preparations in earnest for the voyage, the ill will between Spain and Portugal led to rumors that the lives of the Portuguese co-commanders were in danger. It was said that Bishop Vasconcellos, a confidant of King Manuel, inspired an assassination attempt. Magellan was inclined to ignore the death threats, but King Charles took the intimidation so seriously that he provided bodyguards for Magellan and Faleiro, granted them another audience, proclaimed them Knights of the Order of Santiago, and reaffirmed the terms of their original commission. Having done all he could to demonstrate his support of the two Portuguese, King Charles urged them to begin their expedition as soon as possible. Time was short, and an empire was at stake.
Something has come up,” Magellan wrote to King Charles on Saturday, October 23, 1518, in the midst of outfitting the fleet for the voyage. Unlike many captains, Magellan involved himself in the day-to-day preparations, even loading goods onto the ships as if he were an ordinary seaman, not the Captain General, and that was how the trouble started. Despite his close interaction with the sailors and dockworkers, or perhaps because of it, Magellan believed he did not receive the cooperation and respect to which he was accustomed. In desperation, he appealed to the one individual who could restore order.
It is possible that Magellan’s problems stemmed at least in part from his inadequate Spanish; time and again, he had to rely on translators, and his inability to communicate underscored his outsider status. Even now, writing to King Charles, he had to rely on a scribe, “because I still do not know how to write in Spanish as well I should.” He proceeded to explain the matter. “I had to haul one of the ships to shore because there was an ebb tide. I got up at three in the morning to make sure that the riggings were in place and when it was time to work I ordered the men to put up four flags with my coat of arms on the mast where those of the captain are customarily placed, while those of Your Majesty were to be placed on top of Trinidad, which is the name of the ship.” The unusual juxtaposition of signs, emphasizing that a Portuguese captain was sailing for Spain, attracted a large, gossipy crowd of onlookers. “Because in this world there is never any lack of envious people, they began to talk. They said I had done wrong in putting up my coat of arms on the capstan.” The crowd thought that the four flags containing Magellan’s coat of arms signified those of the king of Portugal. Resentment boiled along until a functionary ordered Magellan to remove the offending flags. “I approached him and told him that those flags were not of the King of Portugal but my own, and that I was a vassal of Your Majesty.” And he refused to remove the flags. Another Spanish official approached Magellan with the same demand. No, Magellan explained, he would not take down the flags.
As Magellan was explaining all this to the official, the man who had first approached him, “without any warning and without any authority to do so . . . came up the steps calling the people to seize the Portuguese captain who had put up the flags of the King of Portugal.” He demanded to know why Magellan chose to display these flags, and Magellan, not surprisingly, refused to explain.
At that moment, chaos erupted. The insolent functionary “called military officers to seize me and laid his hands on me, shouting that they would seize me and my men.” Worse, “There were some who showed their intentions to harm my men rather than to help us do what was for the service of Your Majesty.” At that point, the two officials who had challenged Magellan got into a fight with each other over how to treat Magellan. The workmen outfitting Trinidad quickly fled, as did a number of the sailors, further exasperating Magellan, who stood by helplessly as he watched the local officials disarm the sailors, and even arrest several of them and lead them away to prison. In the struggle, one of Magellan’s pilots was stabbed as he was going about his work. Although Magellan escaped harm, his dignity and authority had suffered a blow. To make matters worse, the fight had occurred in the open, under the watchful eye of a Portuguese spy, who would carry news of the brawl back to Lisbon.
“Because I believe that Your Majesty does not approve of maltreating men who leave their kingdom and their own kind to come and serve Your Majesty,” Magellan wrote, “I ask you most humbly to decide what would be best for your service. Whatever Your Majesty orders would give me utmost satisfaction because I consider the affront done me not an affront done to one Ferdinand Magellan, but done to a captain of Your Majesty.”
Magellan’s fury at the incident was understandable. An exile, he enjoyed the protection of King Charles, but in reality he was at the mercy of the mob and self-appointed busybodies. If he could not maintain order here on the quay at Seville, how would he lead men on the perilous journey across an uncharted ocean to the Spice Islands? And if there was another uprising on a distant shore, where it would be impossible for him to summon the king’s help, how would matters stand?
Within days of receiving Magellan’s letter, King Charles demonstrated his loyalty and punished the offenders—those who had boarded Trinidad, stabbed the pilot, seized Magellan himself—and arrested the sailors. Preparations for the voyage continued, but the flag incident served as a warning to Magellan that his men, especially the Spaniards, posed a danger as great as the sea itself.
On April 6, 1519, the king sent orders to another officer, Juan de Cartagena—orders that became the most controversial aspect of the entire expedition—to serve as the inspector general of the fleet under the command of the two Portuguese commanders. Yet his salary was considerably more than Magellan’s, the highest of any in the fleet: 110,000 maravedís. Essentially, Cartagena was to have the final say over all commercial aspects of the expedition; he was the chief accountant and representative of the king’s treasury. “You must see to it that a book is kept in which you will make entry of all that is loaded in the holds. These things must be marked with your mark, each different class of merchandise being by itself; and you must designate particularly what belongs to each person, because, as will be seen later, the profits must be allotted at so much to the pound, in order that there may be no fraud.”