Conqueror of the Seas: The Story of MAGELLAN


 


 


 

PUBLISHED IN FEBRUARY 1938

MAGELLAN COPYRIGHT 1938 BY HERBERT REICHNER VERLAG, VIENNA-LEIPZIG-ZURICH

CONQUEROR OF THE SEAS COPYRIGHT 1938 BY THE VIKING PRESS, INC.

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

DISTRIBUTED IN CANADA BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY OF CANADA, LTD.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

While this book was still on the presses, there began to appear in Lisbon the documentary work on Magellan in the Portuguese language which had been for years in preparation. Only the first portions could be examined, but I must thank the honoured writer, the Visconde de Lagoa, for the information about it which he was so kind as to give me personally. I am equally indebted to the Visconde Carnaxide in Buenos Aires for special stimulation. Active assistance was rendered me by Dr. Leo Bagrow in the selection of illustrations, by Dr. Christine Rohr in the translation of the documents to be found in the Appendix, and not least by Professor Eugen Oberhummer of Vienna, leading expert on the age of discovery, who took an active interest in this work even before the final preparations for printing it.

~S. Z.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

The name of the first man who undertook to circumnavigate the globe has come down to us in various forms. In Portuguese documents the great navigator is sometimes spoken of as FERNAO DE MACALHAIS, sometimes as FERNAO DE MAGALHAES; after entering the Spanish service, he signed documents alternately MAGHALLANES and MAGHELLANES, while the cartographers latinized this Spanish form as MAGELLANUS. Not wishing to perplex my readers with needless variations, I have decided to use throughout the semi-latinized form, MAGELLAN, which has long had international currency. We have the precedent of COLUMBUS, who is rarely spoken of as CRISTOFORO COLOMBO or as CRISTOBAL COLON. Almost invariably, too, I describe by the more familiar name of CHARLES V the Habsburg ruler who made MAGELLAN'S voyage possible, although during the opening years of my narrative he had not yet been crowned Holy Roman Emperor, and was merely KING CHARLES I of Spain.


INTRODUCTION

Books originate under the spur of the most diversified feelings. Some may write books owing to the stimulus of enthusiasm or through the promptings of gratitude; on the other hand, bitterness, anger, or annoyance may kindle the requisite spiritual passion. Often curiosity supplies the motive force, the psychological pleasure derived from the way in which writing about men or their doings explains these to oneself. Frequently it is less creditable factors, such as vanity, cupidity, or delight in self-portraiture, that arouse the itch for writing. It would be well for every author to analyse what urge, what desire for personal gratification, has led him to commit his thoughts to paper. For my part I have no doubt as to the internal causes that led me to pen the present work. I did so under stress of a comparatively unusual but very powerful sentiment—that of shame.

This is how it came to pass. Last year I was able to undertake a long-desired journey to South America. I knew that in Brazil some of the finest landscapes in the world would be disclosed to me, and that in Argentina I should have an incomparable encounter with many of my spiritual comrades. This anticipation alone would have sufficed to make the voyage memorable, but there were many other circumstances calculated to please. The sea was calm; I had opportunities for complete relaxation on the swift and roomy liner, where I was freed from ties and daily vexations. Greatly, at first, did I enjoy these paradisiacal conditions. Then, on the seventh or eighth day, I became aware of a froward impatience. The sky was so unfailingly blue, and the blue waters were so unfailingly smooth. In my mood of exasperation the hours seemed to pass too slowly. I yearned for the arrival in port; was eager to note every day how much the clock had been put back; and was irked by being expected to enjoy such utter idleness. The continual sight of the same faces wearied me, and the monotony of the ship's routine had become insufferable. On, on; quicker, quicker. This fine, comfortable, swift steamer was steaming far too slowly for my taste.

Yet I was thoroughly ashamed of myself in the very moment when I realized my impatience* "Here you are," I said to myself reproachfully, "travelling in the safest of ships upon the loveliest voyage imaginable, with all the luxuries in the world at your disposal. If you find it chilly in your cabin after sunset, you need merely turn a switch and the air is warmed.