THE ISLANDS BEYOND THE EMPIRE Portuguese Essays on Early Modern Philippine History (16th-18th Centuries) Edited by Paulo Jorge de Sousa Pinto Miguel Rodrigues Lourenço Foreign Service Institute Manila 2023 The Islands Beyond the Empire Portuguese Essays on Early Modern Philippine History (16th-18th Centuries) Edited by Paulo Jorge de Sousa Pinto Miguel Rodrigues Lourenço Published by Foreign Service Institute Republic of the Philippines www.fsi.gov.ph email: fsiphilippines@fsi.gov.ph Sponsored by Embassy of the Republic of the Philippines in Lisbon CHAM – Centro de Humanidades, NOVA FCSH, Lisbon Cover image (detail) João Teixeira Albernaz, “Noueno mapa de las costas de la Persia Asia Tartaria y China”, Taboas geraes de toda a navegação / divididas e emendadas por Dom Ieronimo de Attayde com todos os portos principaes das conquistas de Portugal delineadas por Ioão Teixeira cosmographo de Sua Magestade, anno de 1630. Library of Congress, Washington, DC, G1015 .T4 1630 Vault folio. Copyright © 2023 by the Embassy of the Republic of the Philippines in Lisbon and CHAM – Centro de Humanidades, NOVA FCSH, Lisbon Open Access publication, distributed under License Creative Commons BY 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/ DEPÓSITO LEGAL: 521474/23 ISBN: 978-971-552-194-9 E-ISBN (PDF): 978-971-552-195-6 Printed by ACD Print, S.A. – www.acdprint.pt THE ISLANDS BEYOND THE EMPIRE Portuguese Essays on Early Modern Philippine History (16th-18th Centuries) Edited by Paulo Jorge de Sousa Pinto Miguel Rodrigues Lourenço TABLE OF CONTENTS Message of Senator Franklin M. Drilon .........................................................................................VII Message of Secretary for Foreign Affairs Enrique A. Manalo .......................................................... IX Foreword by Ambassador Celia Anna M. Feria .............................................................................. XI INTRODUCTION – Paulo Jorge de Sousa Pinto; Miguel Rodrigues Lourenço ................................ 1 EARLY PORTUGUESE CONTACTS WITH THE PHILIPPINES José Manuel Garcia Portugal’s relations with the Philippines according to 16th century Portuguese chroniclers ...... 9 Miguel Rodrigues Lourenço From St. Lazarus to the Philippines: representations of an archipelago in 16th century Iberian nautical cartography ...................................................................................................... 19 ACCOMMODATING EMPIRES: THE PHILIPPINES IN THE CONTEXT OF PORTUGUESE, SPANISH AND DUTCH INTERACTION IN ASIA João Paulo Oliveira e Costa Portuguese-Spanish rivalry in the Far East and the missionary quarrel in Japan ..................... 59 Rui Manuel Loureiro Macao and Manila in the context of Iberian-Dutch rivalry in the South China Sea .............. 101 Paulo Jorge de Sousa Pinto Manila, Macao and Chinese networks in South China Sea: adaptive strategies of cooperation and survival (16th-17th centuries) ..................................................................... 111 Manuel Lobato The Philippines and the Portuguese Estado da Índia in the time of the Habsburgs: tension, convergence and accommodation between the Iberian empires in Southeast Asia... 127 Miguel Rodrigues Lourenço The border between the Inquisitions of Goa and Mexico during the 16th and 17th centuries .... 157 VIII TABLE OF CONTENTS Rui Manuel Loureiro Traveling experiences vs. intertextuality: the description of the Philippines in Gemelli Careri’s Giro del Mondo (1699-1700) ................................................................... 183 THE PHILIPPINES AND MACAO Elsa Penalva Women in Macao 1633-1644 ................................................................................................... 217 Eduardo Frutuoso Population, economy and commerce: Macao and the Philippines on the road of Iberian arbitrism in the first half of the 17th century........................................................... 243 José Manuel Garcia Historical relations between Macao and the Philippines: a Portuguese perspective............... 259 Elsa Penalva Poor Clares in 17th century Macao: faith, power and freedom ............................................... 285 Paulo Jorge de Sousa Pinto Enemy At The Gates – Macao, Manila and the “Pinhal episode” (end of the 16th century) .... 305 THE PHILIPPINES AND CULTURAL TRANSFERS ACROSS EMPIRES Graciete Nogueira Batalha Coincidences with Macao’s dialect in Spanish dialects of the Philippine Islands ................... 335 Rui Manuel Loureiro Early European sinology – Between Macao and Manila at the end of the 16th century ......... 343 Alexandra Curvelo Commodities on the move. Philippines as a contact zone between East Asia and the Viceroyalty of New Spain in the Early Modern Age ................................................... 361 Manuel Lobato The Mardicas of Ternate and the creoles of Portuguese origin in the Philippines. An interdisciplinary look at the relations between identity and language ............................. 381 Maria João Pacheco Ferreira Designation issues around Chinese textiles in the Iberian heritage collections ..................... 393 THE AUTHORS............................................................................................................................. 403 THE TEXTS ................................................................................................................................... 407 From St. Lazarus to the Philippines: representations of an archipelago in 16th century Iberian nautical cartography1 Miguel Rodrigues Lourenço Introduction On August 9, 1543, the island of Sarangani, situated off the southernmost point of Mindanao, was the setting for an episode which succinctly illustrates the issues explored over the course of this chapter. It was there that the “captain-general of the Islands and Provinces of the West”, Ruy López de Villalobos met with the Portuguese António de Almeida. Almeida had been sent by Dom Jorge de Castro, captain of the fortress of Ternate, to protest before López de Villalobos that he and the members of his expedition had no right to be sailing in these waters, as it constituted a violation of the Treaty of Zaragoza signed between the crowns of Portugal and Castile. In his response to the request issued by the captain of Ternate, Ruy López de Villalobos briefly summarized his voyage from New Spain, concluding his account by stating that he had anchored at “this Isla Antonia, which the aforesaid Antonio de Almeyda states is called Maludo”2 (CDI, 1886: 79). 1 2 This research was carried out in 2004 during my professional internship at the Centro Científico e Cultural de Macau. I am deeply grateful to Dr Isabel Correia, who oversaw the Division of Audio-visual and Interactive Technologies, where I undertook my research, and Professor Rui Manuel Loureiro, my research supervisor. I would like, also, to express my thanks to Professors Francisco Contente Domingues, Francisco Roque de Oliveira and Luís Filipe Barreto for the suggestions and proposals they made to drafts of this study. I am also indebted to the Arquivo Nacional da Torre do Tombo, the Herzog August Bibliothek, the Huntington Library of San Marino, the John Carter Brown Library, and the Österreichische Nationalbibliothek for their permission to publish the images that illustrate this text. Finally, I would like to thank the Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation, for their grant to travel to Mexico, where I gave this paper in 2008. The publication of this document by the Real Academia de la Historia transcribed this toponym as “Maluco”, the sixteenth-century Portuguese way of referring to the Maluku Islands, which is perhaps a transcription error. The documentation issued by the fortress of Ternate the following year, reveals that the island was designated, in different texts, as “Maludo” (Gavetas, 1971: 181; 189), hence in this quotation I have opted to correct the text of the 1886 edition. 20 MIGUEL RODRIGUES LOURENÇO The toponymic discrepancy, which was noted by both parties, neither advanced, nor contributed to the debate prompted by both sides’ pursuit of exclusive seafaring rights, and which, through a dialectic centred on the recent Iberian diplomatic history, embraced broader concerns over their respective rights over the geographical space of Southeast and East Asia. Nevertheless, the obvious divergence between the two sides was seemingly considered significant enough to merit inclusion in the official records of the interview held between López de Villalobos and Almeida. The disagreement over how to designate the island they met on was not the focus of the dispute that evolved; nevertheless, it clearly demonstrates how it was wholly impossible for either side to reach an agreement: there was no alignment between their respective geographies. Their rejection of the basic referents for spatial definition meant the rejection of their counterparts’ legitimacy to act within the disputed space and, above all, their right to possess it. The coexistence, in the same document, of a Sarangani-Isla Antonia and of a Sarangani-Maludo reveals their incapacity to establish a universal system of references and, thereby, the impossibility of overcoming the impasse created by the structural divergence between these two competing projects for the occupation of the space of Southeast Asia. The Spaniards’ identification of Sarangani as “Isla Antonia”, whose eponym was the viceroy of New Spain, Antonio de Mendoza, meant defending a new conceptual structure of geographical denomination by overlaying the onomastics employed by the Portuguese side. It is significant that Ruy López de Villalobos rejected the toponymic dimensions of Dom Jorge de Castro’s title: “Captain of the fortress of San Juan de Ternate, and the Islands of Maluku, Banda, Borneo, Mindanao, with all the Islands of San Juan, and Manado, Panciave, with the whole coast of the Calabres and Oanborno,3 with the whole Archipelago of the Papua’s” (CDI, 1886: II, 71). His refusal was underscored by the counter-assertion of his own title with its patent geographical system: “Captain-General of the Islas y Provincias del Poniente [Islands and Provinces of the West]”. The humiliating curtailment of Castro’s territorial attributes signals López de Villalobos’s perversion and the subordination of the Portuguese system, yet also the geographical scope of the Spanish intervention; Castro was relegated to the condition of “Captain-General of the Maluku Islands”. While the competition of Iberian expansion across Southeast Asia necessarily entailed confrontations on the ground, it was likewise fought within a global and systemic level founded on the power and right to name territories and inscribe them within a specific cultural complex. The fact that the political cartography of Southeast Asia today displays the existence of a state that designates its borders as the “Philippines” and is recognized as such, means that the initial contest for power and the right of denomination was won by the Spanish project, and was thus granted what Christian Jacob terms a “collective consensus” that ensured the symbolic affirmation of a value system subsequently associated with a physical space (Jacob, 1992: 265-267). 3 Another error for “Ambon”. FROM ST. LAZARUS TO THE PHILIPPINES The eponymic origin of “Filipinas” was formed from the name of Prince Felipe [Philip], future Philip II, which conferred a value of belonging that was intended to declare the House of Habsburg’s sovereignty over a plural insular geographical unit, all the while stressing the unity of that plurality of islands. The dissonant proposals concerning the limits and extension of the “Filipinas” which persisted into the seventeenth century in Spanish historical writing (Lourenço, 2006), sheds light on the dynamic meaning of this eponymy and its unifying function within the project of constructing a new territorial identity and phase of spatial domination. However, within Portuguese spheres of influence the recognition of a geographic and administrative nucleus denominated “Filipinas” was the result of the abrupt effacement of the entity – the Portuguese Crown as a state that could pursue an effective autonomous policy – which promoted a valid alternative system of denomination, as opposed to this system’s gradual demise. In the context of Iberian competition, this critical moment occurred in 1582, when news of Philip II’s acclamation as king of Portugal reached the eastern limits of the Estado da Índia. Following the fall of the Avis dynasty, the cessation of the military and diplomatic pressure exerted by the Portuguese, both at a local and international level, against the Philippines, rendered irreversible the presence of this new regional agent and the exclusivist system of spatial relations it entailed. It was these two factors – the sustained Spanish presence and the end of the territorial confrontation in 1582 – which definitively altered the prevailing conditions that had, until then, governed the Iberian empires’ relationships with the Philippines; essentially, it was these factors that had permitted the overlay and plurality of concepts of identity over the archipelago. Until the third quarter of the sixteenth century, the political, cultural, and geographical perception of the Philippines was conditioned by infrequent contact – on the Spanish side – in addition to the regional or secondary scope of spatial interactions – on the Portuguese side – ; practices that did not generate a consensual model for the archipelago’s denomination. It was the delayed integration of the Philippines into an (Iberian) exclusivist system of relationships that led to the islands remaining open to several channels of interaction by Iberian seafarers. This favoured the formation of divergent geographical frameworks for the islands, while also broadening the sources of information about the archipelago. The variety of Portuguese-Spanish experiences in this insular complex led to the formation of a diverse range of nuclei of information. The latter’s heterogeneity was not only the result of the variety of sources (rutters, logbooks, cartographic sketches, travel relations, correspondence), nor the fact they were created in rival political or socio-political contexts. Instead, the distinctive forms used to record cartographic knowledge which was gradually accumulated about the archipelago reflect a range of experiences and encounters: official exploration expeditions; pillaging or diplomatic campaigns sanctioned by those wielding regional political-military power; private initiatives, either commercial or for pillage; and even indirect forms of information gathering or exchange (merchants, pilots, seafarers) in the wider Asian context. 21 22 MIGUEL RODRIGUES LOURENÇO Each of these practices encompassed a diverse number of experiences, whose documentary expression constituted the testimony of a unique interaction with the territory. Therefore, a plurality of images and modes of apprehension circulated in both official and private networks, although the latter were not always convergent with the former. Documents could be channelled through several, rival networks, until reaching the compiler, constructor, organizer of these heterogeneous nuclei of knowledge, who could then form them into coherent and harmonious systems of information. Cartography, and especially that of the Portuguese and Spanish overseas expansion, reflects, precisely, the moments in which a considerable quantity of documents, albeit at times containing incompatible information, was compiled into a stable form. Even though cartographers were the transmitters of this collective knowledge, the knowledge they conveyed is defined by its temporality, in a manner that makes the map-reader unaware or indifferent to the inherent anachronism of the contexts through which the information was obtained. Their maps are the bearer of a degree of organization, homogeneity and synchronicity, yet are a site of coexistence for several stages of knowledge obtained in wholly distinct periods (Jacob, 1992: 277, 309). Nevertheless, the map’s conceptual structure can be subjected to an analysis contrary to that of its composition. The systematic study of graphic solutions and toponymic variation encountered in the different models of cartographic representation over the course of their respective diachronic evolutions demonstrates the existence of subtle variations in the organization of knowledge. It also reveals temporal segments of continuity and rupture within cartographic renderings, which in turn reveal their respective communities of knowledge and documentary circulation, and thus allows us to isolate the constitutive elements of each cartographic proposal. The case study addressed below seeks to understand the different moments in which different sources of information on the Philippines converged in the creation of an apparently harmonic cartographic composition. It is only by taking this approach that an overarching analysis of the cartographic discourse can subsequently be undertaken. From an after-image of the discovery of the Philippines to the exploration of Mindanao: the first phase of cartographic representations of the archipelago (1522-circa 1550) The oldest Portuguese nautical chart that depicts a perceptible representation of the Filipino archipelago, whose southern regions were surveyed by Ferdinand Magellan’s fleet in 1521, can be dated to circa 1535. It forms part of what appears to be an incomplete chart of Southeast Asia and the coasts of China by an anonymous author, whose identity remains elusive (Cortesão, 1960: I, 124). FROM ST. LAZARUS TO THE PHILIPPINES Figure 1 Detail of the Philippines in the anonymous “Penrose” Chart, previously in the private collection of Boies Penrose, c. 1535. Image originally published by Armando Cortesão and Avelino Teixeira da Mota em Portugaliae Monumenta Cartographica, vol. 1, plate 58. 23 24 MIGUEL RODRIGUES LOURENÇO Although this document’s relevance as an example of the first wave of information provided by Portuguese cartographers has been called into question by Armando Cortesão, it is significant none the less.4 Its survival reveals correlations with preceding charts which, despite not being inscribed in the same circuits of cartographic production, mean the problem of the construction of a geographic space can be framed by a paradigm other than that of “being the first record of a discovery”, or the quality of this cartographic representation. The execution of the “Penrose” chart (Figure 1), named after its first owner, Boies Penrose, faithfully adhered to the configuration of coastlines and geographic structures5 established through the practice of the official cartographers working for Seville’s Casa de la Contratación (House of Commerce) – Diogo Ribeiro, in particular – since, at least, 1525; see, for example, the complete drawing of Mindanao, which is bordered to the north by the incomplete representation of some islands from the Visayas and, to the west, by Palawan. This model is seemingly the culmination of a gradual process of correcting the initial attempt at a cartographic composition of the archipelago, which was produced immediately upon the return of Magellan’s expedition in 1522 by Nuño García de Toreno, who used the nautical documentation contributed by Juan Sebastián de Elcano. The evidence for the cartographic praxis undertaken at the Casa de la Contratación between 1523 and 1525 (Martín Merás, [n.d.]: 83-84, 88-89, 92) reveals two areas of engagement. Firstly, the harmonization of two cartographic discourses, the predominantly Portuguese one known in Spain through the works of Pedro Reinel6; and the one based on the first circumnavigation of the world, which was first elaborated in the chart of Asia produced by García de Toreno (Magnaghi, 1927; Martín Merás, [n.d.]: 90). This harmonization was directed at the re-elaboration of the spaces that had been surveyed by Magellan’s expedition in order to create 4 According to Armando Cortesão, the oldest, anonymous and dateless, Portuguese chart to include the image of the archipelago is conserved at the British Museum (Add. Mss. 9812). Cortesão attributed the work to Pedro Reinel. On the basis of an infrared photograph taken of a damaged section of the document, he proposed that it was made in 1522. The infrared study – no longer extant – would have enabled the identification of the forms of Saint Lazarus Archipelago as charted during Ferdinand Magellan’s expedition, as well as the respective caption identifying it as such (Cortesão, 1960: I, 35-36). However, this image was not incorporated into the Portugaliae Monumenta Cartographica, and the edition of the chart does not allow one to perceive any evidence of outline or toponymy, which is why I have not included it in this study. Likewise, I have not considered the representation of the Philippines in the Livro de Francisco Rodrigues, of circa 1515 due, even if it could be identified as part of the Philippines, to the complete lack of influence of this representation exerted over later cartographic works (Garcia, 2008: 102-103). 5 There is very little toponymy inscribed on the “Penrose” chart; only one inscription for the Philippine archipelago, whereby it is not possible to assess the influence of the Spanish cartographic models based on this chart beyond the configuration of the islands. 6 The testimony of the Portuguese factor in Seville, Sebastião Álvares, records how Pedro Reinel travelled to Seville in 1519, the year of Magellan’s departure, to collect his son and apprentice cartographer, Jorge Reinel, who was at the time working on a globe and a nautical chart. According to Álvares, Pedro Reinel concluded the work initiated by his son, thereby producing a model (“padram”) which the Portuguese Diogo Ribeiro, in the service of the “Casa de la Contratación”, was in charge of reproducing (Cortesão, 1960: I, 20). FROM ST. LAZARUS TO THE PHILIPPINES an image that was as functional as possible for navigational purposes; hence, for example, the abandonment of the closed insular forms of García de Toreno, while maintaining only the depiction of sighted coastlines, and the exclusion or introduction of toponymy, according to its degree of relevance in the context of the expeditioners’ experience in those seas. In 1525, the preparations underway in La Coruña to dispatch a new fleet to the Maluku Islands suggests that the emergence of a new reconfigured representation of the Philippines would have been part of a process of revising the available cartographic depictions of Asia. In the mid-1530s, the Portuguese circles of cartographic production began incorporating representational models conceived and institutionally established by their political adversary with whom they disputed control over the charted space, which reveals the validity they attributed to the cartographic proposal appropriated from the Spanish side. In the context of the Portuguese-Spanish dispute over the spice trade, the stabilization of geographical knowledge corresponds to a primordial logistical imperative. After 1522/1525, on the Spanish side, the creation of a cartographic composition of the Philippines that may display a consistent “record of the expedition’s itinerary”, constituted an operation meant to establish this record in anticipation of a subsequent need to renavigate the route. On the Portuguese side, the route’s integration into the Portuguese corpus of knowledge represented a means of preventing this very outcome. However, the Portuguese cartographers’ debt to the work of their Spanish peers with regard to the Philippines, should not lead us to draw any conclusions on the character of each side’s interaction within this space, according to which the most successful cartographic model would be interpreted as the reflection of a more privileged access to the region. To consider this premise’s validity would imply denying the Portuguese the possibility of any regular communication with the archipelago, in the 1520s when in fact sources other than cartography reveal this not to have been the case. Between 1523 and circa 1535, Portuguese-Spanish rivalry in Southeast Asia concerning control over the Maluku Islands and the need to make the Portuguese military presence in Ternate economically viable led to a succession of Portuguese incursions into the seas to the south of the Philippines. In 1523, the captain of Ternate, António de Brito, dispatched Simão de Abreu to Malacca via northern Borneo for the purpose of reconnoitring an alternative route linking the two forts; in 1526, Dom Jorge de Meneses led a voyage following the opposite route from Malacca to Ternate, and, like Simão de Abreu beforehand, he sailed through the Strait of Basilan – formed by the island of Basilan and the tip of the peninsula of Zamboanga, in Mindanao; then, in 1527, Gomes de Siqueira led an expedition to Mindanao in search of provisions, one which ultimately failed due to bad weather; the following year, Simão de Vera lost his life on the same island, during a voyage to Malacca; and, finally, in 1535, João da Canha Pinto is understood to have led an expedition, probably along the eastern coast of Mindanao up to Siargao in search of gold and slaves (Garcia, 2003: 12-23). 25 26 MIGUEL RODRIGUES LOURENÇO Therefore, over the course of a decade, from Maluku the Portuguese sought to integrate the seas south of the Philippines into the sphere of activity centred around the captaincy of Ternate. While, their mercantile activities being primarily concerned with the clove trade, the Portuguese nonetheless identified in the “arçipelago de sam Lázaro” (St. Lazarus Archipelago) – included in the “Penrose” chart – a facet of logistic complementarity as can be observed at two levels: communication, as a new sailing route to and from Malacca “by way of Borneo”, which required sailing off Mindanao; and economic and mercantile interests obtained by normalizing the use of this island as space for obtaining supplies and other economic resources. As can be seen from the above chronology, in the mid-1530s, Portuguese cartographers still adhered to the earlier Spanish model of cartographic representation, which, on the basis of the navigational experience acquired by the Portuguese during the previous decade could already be considered as partially out of date; this immediately signals a key factor to be taken into account when considering the Philippines in Portuguese cartography: the specific conditions that shaped the Portuguese presence in the region were objectively insufficient to construct an image that constituted a viable conceptual alternative to the Spanish cartographic proposal. The Portuguese preference for excluding the knowledge they acquired from their own navigation – knowledge which became increasingly more precise given the frequency of their voyages –, indicates that the significance they attached to charting this space was not based on any concern for updated hydrographic information; instead, it responded to other imperatives. In a region that was, fundamentally, peripheral to Portuguese mercantile and seafaring activities in the seas of Island Southeast Asia, the maintenance of the Spanish representational structure fulfilled a strategic purpose by reproducing their competitors’ route: thus, Portuguese cartography highlights the objective constraints faced by their Iberian rival with regard to their access to highly important trade sectors. In Portugal, the defence of their exclusive right to relations with Maluku and their Crown’s control over the archipelago was still at stake in these years. It is unclear when the model incorporated into the “Penrose” chart became authoritative in Portugal. Unless the information had been obtained beforehand through espionage, this cartographic solution became accessible by 1536 at the latest, when the Portuguese authorities confiscated all the nautical materials carried by Andrés de Urdaneta, one of the last survivors of the expedition led by Jofre de Loaisa, when he returned to the Iberian Peninsula (CVD, 1955: III, 247). The approximate date of 1535, which Cortesão assigns to the production of the “Penrose” chart, means that it could have been valid for a period of ten years, following its seeming institutionalization through the model created in Seville (see the anonymous planisphere of 1525, in the possession of the Marquises de Castiglioni). The same composition was also used in 1547 in the so-called “Vallard” Atlas to represent the St. Lazarus Archipelago (HL, HM 29, fol. 1v-2), yet this does not mean that it could not have been already discontinued in Portugal. Indeed, up until the mid-century in both cartographic structures of production the representation of the Philippines seems to have followed distinctive trajectories. Contrary to FROM ST. LAZARUS TO THE PHILIPPINES Figure 2 Detail of the Philippines on the anonymous chart of Asia, c. 1540, preserved in the Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel, Cod. Guelf. 102 Aug. 2nd. 27 28 MIGUEL RODRIGUES LOURENÇO what occurred in Casa de la Contratación, where the morphology of the archipelago remained faithful to the 1525 model (Alonso de Santa Cruz continued to reproduce it, some two decades later, in his map of the islands, Islario General, circa 1545), in Portuguese cartography the creation of a stable image of the Philippines was delayed by the progressive integration of coastal information gained from the voyages made in this region. From the late 1530s onwards, the representation of the archipelago in Portuguese cartography workshops reveals a continued process of correcting the model inherited from Casa de la Contratación. Above all, this tendency focuses on the outline of Mindanao Island, and this can be traced in several anonymous works, which Armando Cortesão and Avelino Teixeira da Mota state were produced over the course of a decade and a half. I refer specifically to two atlases (circa 1537), probably authored by Gaspar Viegas (Cortesão and Mota, 1960: 1, plates 51AC-52AC and 51BD-52BD), an anonymous chart of Asia (circa 1540), preserved in the Herzog August Bibliothek, in Wolfenbüttel (Figure 2), and, finally, two planispheres, also anonymous, conserved, respectively, in the Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, in Vienna (Cortesão and Mota, 1960: 1, plate 79), and the Biblioteca Vallicelliana in Rome (Cortesão and Mota, 1960: 1, plate 80). Gaspar Viegas is considered to be the likely author of the additions made, circa 1542, to the manuscript Livro de Duarte Barbosa, conserved in the National Archive/Torre do Tombo (Sousa, 1996: 24-25). If this hypothesis were to be confirmed, it would mean Viegas, a person who had gained first-hand experience in Asia between 1535 and 1543, due to his connections to the key navigational networks operating between Malacca, Banda and the Chinese coastlines (Barreto, 2006: 31; Sousa, 1996: 24), could have collected the elements that were used in the revised cartographic composition of the Philippines that is found in both atlases dated to circa 1537. Nevertheless, Viegas was not responsible for updating the Livro de Duarte Barbosa with specific information concerning the islands. The only copy this book that indicates any navigational experience of the Philippines is a manuscript that was completed in Congo in 1539, and which uses a discursive aesthetic similar to that encountered in rutters when referring to the archipelago. It reveals a knowledge of the peninsula coasts of Zamboanga (Mindanao), of Basilan, of the archipelago of Sulu and of Cagayan of Tawi-Tawi (Sousa, 2000: 404-406). It is above all Gaspar Viegas’s representations of the region of western Mindanao, an unavoidable zone of communication between Ternate and Malacca via northern Borneo, that reveals his departure from the cartographic configuration promoted by the Casa de Contratación. In his work, the Zamboanga Peninsula acquires a definitive identity as such, and its format and orientation are more accurate. The south of the island likewise underwent alterations and its coastal features along this maritime route, such as the bays of Ilana and of Sarangani, were accentuated. Unfortunately, we lack information to adequately frame these changes. With regard to the Philippines, the anonymous works attributed to Gaspar Viegas testify to first-hand experiences of sailing in the region; considering the documented frequency of Portuguese voyages FROM ST. LAZARUS TO THE PHILIPPINES via northern Borneo, maritime interactions with Mindanao would have taken place between 1523/1528. Nevertheless, the terminus ad quem for these representations is seemingly no later than 1534, when Andrés de Urdaneta mentioned the disclosure of an “island very rich in gold” in Ternate (CVD, 1955: III, 248): indeed, in both the circa 1537 atlases the anonymous cartographer delineated some unexpected “Jlhas do ouro” (Islands of Gold) north of Mindanao, a toponym that would not be repeated in later charts.7 The possibility of identifying the phenomenon evoked by these “Islands of Gold” permits us to establish the corresponding year as the earliest date which can objectively be referred to as marking a concern to renew the model received from Spanish cartographers. Since Portuguese cartographic works produced prior to the “Penrose” chart do not represent the Philippines, there is a period between circa 1523 and 1534 in which the model depicted in the “Penrose” chart would have been considered valid, as it would not have been challenged by the alternative composition of the anonymous atlases. Therefore, the tentative period of charts based on the “Penrose” model’s cartographic currency should be prudently established as up to 1535. Around 1540, cartographic corrections of Mindanao’s shoreline were extended to the island’s southern region: Wolfenbüttel’s chart already elegantly provides details for the contours of the gulfs of Moro and Davao, which were only insinuated in the atlases made circa 1537. In addition, details are provided for the island’s southern bays, those of Ilana and Sarangani. It is during the 1540s that cartographic representations of Mindanao better reflect the integration of the island into the economic sphere of the captaincy of Ternate. Wolfenbüttel’s chart (circa 1540) and the planispheres of Vienna (circa 1545) and Rome (circa 1550) reflect the diversity of routes undertaken by the Portuguese during the first half of the sixteenth century, for the purpose of reaching the Philippines. The outline of Mindanao in these documents reflects both the normalization of the sailing route “by way of Borneo”, and the progress made into more northerly latitudes along the eastern coast of the island, towards the sea of Bohol. This progression is clearly demonstrated by several features. Firstly, the disappearance of the outline common to the works by the author of the “Penrose” chart and the maps by the anonymous cartographer/Gaspar Viegas as a representation of the eastern region of Mindanao; it is replaced in the depictions conserved in Wolfenbüttel and especially in Rome, with a coastal delineation whose geographical orientation is more correctly marked. Secondly, by the introduction of one 7 A clear parallel to this information is provided by the news transmitted by Andrés de Urdaneta to Carlos V, in 1537, on his return to Europe: “From the northeastern region of Bendenao [Mindanao], Tristán de Taide, captain of the fortress of Maluco, heard news that in the year of [fifteen] thirty-four there was an island very rich in gold, and the said Tristán de Taide prepared to send a ship there” (CVD, 1955: III, 248). It should be recalled that João da Canha Pinto navigated there based on information such as this in 1535, to “Sirigaio” (Siargao) (Garcia, 2003: 19). The absence of alterations from the Spanish cartographic models to the eastern coast of Mindanao in Viegas’ charts suggests that the cartographer had knowledge of these widespread rumours in Ternate, but not of the voyage made by João da Canha Pinto, which upon his return to Ternate would have proven how baseless the rumours were and, therefore, the redundancy of this toponymy. 29 30 MIGUEL RODRIGUES LOURENÇO (in the case of the planisphere of Rome) or perhaps two (the planisphere of Vienna) personalized insular shapes northeast of Mindanao (likely, Dinagat and Siargao), which stand out from the chaos of the islands that represent the eastern limits of the Visayas. The final significant feature is the pronounced bay in the northern margins of Mindanao, which, in the Wolfenbüttel chart, surrounds a smaller island. The latter configuration undoubtedly refers to Butuan Bay, and northeast from that position begins the jagged northern coast of Mindanao and, out to sea the island of Camiguin. According to the surveys of the Portuguese chronicles undertaken by José Manuel Garcia it was the edge of the Bohol Sea and the banks of the Agusan River that marked the limits of the Portuguese explorations during the 1530s. One account, which was widely circulated initially by Fernão Lopes de Castanheda, recorded how in 1538 Francisco de Castro led an expedition to several points in Mindanao as well as neighbouring islands for the purpose of extending the captaincy of Ternate’s network of regional alliances. “Butuan” and “Camiguin” are among the most distant toponymies recorded by the chronicler before the return of Francisco de Castro to Ternate (Garcia, 2003: 28), which means it is plausible that the expedition turned back at an undetermined point in the vicinity of Butuan Bay. The coincidence between the discourses set out in chronicles and cartography indicates the existence of a shared documentary foundation, which would have been the documentation gathered during the 1538 voyage. The fact that the cartographers’ knowledge ceases where Castanheda’s account ends is indisputable, given that the Wolfenbüttel chart places Butuan Bay in the proximity of the next documented geographical feature, the Zamboanga Peninsula. Both are depicted to the detriment of the invented sketch made in 1522 by Nuño García de Toreno in order to remedy the lack of direct knowledge between these two points obtained during the navigation of Magellan’s fleet. With the inclusion of this detail, the authors of the Wolfenbüttel and Rome maps definitively abandoned the outline established by the Casa de la Contratación as the model reference for the layout of Mindanao. As is the case with the majority of cartographic manuscript production from this period, the lack of indications concerning information included in the maps renders it difficult to fully appreciate the meaning of the changes that occurred in the case of the Philippines around this time. The interval between circa 1535 and circa 1550 suggests the possibility of a practice of progressively updating cartographic representation, which would have been prompted or favoured by the cessation of diplomatic tension following the signing of the Treaty of Zaragoza. Having been freed from the pressure of the Spanish expansion over the Maluku Archipelago the Portuguese may have relativized the need to maintain the cartographic representation of the islands identified by Magellan’s fleet as the mirror of that specific route. The introduction of these alternative cartographic depictions does not mean that there was any perversion of the fundamental knowledge structure introduced by the model which had been available up until then. Up until the 1550s the toponymy present in the aforementioned FROM ST. LAZARUS TO THE PHILIPPINES anonymous cartographic works derives, in so far as can be observed, from the elements identified by Magellan’s fleet and from the documentation elaborated during their voyage across the archipelago – with the exception of the “Jlhas do ouro” (Islands of Gold) in the atlas made circa 1537. Likewise, the morphology and composition of the individual groups of islands went untouched by this dynamic of graphic renewal. For example, the form ascribed to the Visayas in the Spanish model maintained its validity in Portuguese cartography, and was on the whole repeated by various cartographers as part of a process of reducing excessive visual information. Indeed, during the 1540s the structure of the Visayas was reduced to four islands, and only the larger ones, those that were most strategically significant for Magellan’s voyage, were conserved (see the Vienna and Rome planispheres). From the mid-1530s, cartographic transformations focused on the representation of Mindanao did not fundamentally change the continuity of the inherent knowledge associated with the Magellan’s fleet exploration of the archipelago. Albeit without ever disappearing, the mnemonics of its exploration diminished in scale, and within the context of Portuguese-Spanish rivalry for control over Maluku this was a reflection of the lesser relevance ascribed to a detailed representation of their competitors’ route to gain access to this space. Until the mid-sixteenth century, the islands that would soon be designated as “Filipinas” would remain bound to a visual and toponymic structure intended to evoke the specific memory of the voyage of “discovery”. The revival of Portuguese-Spanish rivalry in Southeast Asia and the cartography of the Philippines (1551-1580) In 1543, a fleet from New Spain arrived in the southeastern seas of the Philippines, which prompted a swift response from the captaincy of Ternate and sparked a dispute between the two forces and their local allies. The conflict lasted five years and ended with the Spaniards being defeated and having to be returned to Europe. During this time, the members of Ruy López de Villalobos’s expedition endeavoured to secure a settlement on the Philippines and decide on a viable route for their return voyage to New Spain. As a result, their geographic knowledge of the archipelago was increased exponentially. Between 1543 and 1545, the coast of Mindanao, Samar and the eastern side of Leyte were charted, and it is possible that depictions of the Island of Luzon were made at this time (Varela, 1983: 11). With regard to the cartographic representation of the Philippines, this quantitative and qualitative expansion of the framework of geographic data gave rise to what was a new corpus of information and a new structure of knowledge, which in turn complemented the model established following the voyage led by Ferdinand Magellan. 31 32 MIGUEL RODRIGUES LOURENÇO Figure 3 Detail of the Philippines on Sancho Gutiérrez’s 1551 planisphere, preserved in the Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Vienna, Picture Archive, K I 99416, Tf. 1. FROM ST. LAZARUS TO THE PHILIPPINES Cartographers from the Habsburg Monarchy saw López de Villalobos’ expedition as an opportunity to update the cartographic representations that had been circulated since 1525 by Diogo Ribeiro, Alonso de Chaves and, more recently, by Alonso de Santa Cruz. A testimony of the cartographic incorporation of the new surveys undertaken in the Philippines is provided by the 1551 planisphere signed by Sancho Gutiérrez, which is today conserved in the Österreichische Nationalbibliothek (Wagner, 1951: 49). Singular features of Sancho Gutiérrez’s representation of the islands are the introduction of a new depiction for the form of Mindanao, the definition of the coastlines of Samar and Dinagat and a section of coastline that perhaps refers to the south of the Bicol Peninsula, in Luzon (Figure 3). For the regions that had not been explored anew by López de Villalobos’s fleet (Bohol, Cebu and Negros), Gutiérrez reused the previous cartographic model, although, his depiction of these areas used a closed-form mode of representation. In the regions where voyages were not undertaken in a systematic manner, as was the case for Leyte and Dinagat, their simplified delineation with regard to earlier charts raises questions about the role of these islands in the context of Gutiérrez’s cartographic project. However, the relocation of these islands vis-a-vis earlier cartographic depictions, suggests they were also part of the new surveys incorporated to the extant model following the return of the survivors from the expedition in 1548. Unfortunately, the poor condition of Gutiérrez’s planisphere, especially in the section where the archipelago is represented, hinders efforts to read the cartographer’s toponyms and identify all the islands. Likewise, the damage makes it impossible to undertake a detailed comparison of every island depicted in his work with those of earlier maps. Nevertheless, the graphic alterations he made insinuate that his intentions should not be restricted to or confused with solely updating cartographic knowledge. The fact that we can identify a sort of figurative frontier when confronting Gutiérrez’s work with the earlier model suggests that the cartographer is displaying a preference for a more recent record of an itinerary, namely, the one displaying the surveys undertaken by Ruy López de Villalobos’s fleet as opposed to those by Ferdinand Magellan’s men. Gutiérrez’s new designs unquestionably maintained an undeniable hydrographic sense of nautical operationality, which justifies his abandonment of less precise layouts, or those based on less thorough coastal surveys. However, it is important to consider these cartographic mutations in the light of the expedition’s specific aims and the courses it intended to follow. López de Villalobos’s expedition was the first official undertaking towards Asian territory following the agreement reached between John III and Charles V, according to which the emperor renounced, for a price, Castile’s right to possess, trade with and navigate to Maluku. Therefore, there was clearly no scope for confusing the aims of the expedition led by López de Villalobos with those that had guided the voyages of Magellan, Jofre de Loaisa and Alvaro de Saavedra, because, for the first time, the fleet’s destination, was not the Spice Islands, but rather the imprecise insular group of Islands of the West: “islas del Poniente” (CDI, 1886: II, 29). The 33 34 MIGUEL RODRIGUES LOURENÇO shift in political conditions gave rise to a strategic difference, which manifested itself both in terms of the physical space engaged with, and the epistemic tier of perception applied to that same space. In an Asian context, to accept the geographic classification designated by “islas del Poniente” (Islands of the West) would mean subtracting a territorial nucleus from the indigenous, pre-existent toponymy in use by their political rival. In practical terms, it would mean being able to define the territory through toponymic baptism, by integrating it into a specific system of geographic knowledge, and, thereby, laying claim to ownership of it, or at least the right to operate there. It is clear that this notion was shared by the members of Ruy López de Villalobos’s expedition; consider the practice of (re)naming the islands which they carried out during those years. Mindanao, Sarangani and Leyte/Samar were, respectively, designated by “Caesarea Karoli”, “Isla Antonia” and “Felipina”, proposals which, as was discussed above, were rejected by the Portuguese of Ternate. Sancho Gutiérrez’s planisphere is a cartographic landmark because it introduces the onomastic practice of referring to the archipelago under discussion as “las yslas de las filipinas”. No less significant is the caption, inscribed close to the east coast of Mindanao, which reads “Here one obtains cinnamon” (Aqui se toma la canela), while another inscription alludes to the same spice in the peninsula of Zamboanga, but only “the cinnamon” (la canela) is legible. Nearby, is the only legible (in the reproductions I have consulted) toponym inscribed by the cartographer within the archipelago, which reads: “cavite”. This toponym’s association with the cinnamon trade was confirmed by García de Escalante Alvarado in the extensive list that he sent to Carlos V in 1548: “Then they set sail in search of the General, (...) went to the West to Çessarea [Mindanao] and arrived at the point of the island which is called Cabite, which they say is well populated and has a good expanse of land, the Indians brought cinnamon and wax and honey to sell there. The Portuguese call at this point when coming from Malacca and going to Maluku.”8 (Varela, 1983: 139-140). Despite the limited written information provided by the planisphere, these elements provide a deeper understanding of the concerns underlying this cartographic composition. The main toponym, the Archipelago of St. Lazarus – the chaotic stage of the route leading to Maluku – was replaced by the “yslas de las filipinas”, a destination in its own right, where cinnamon replaced cloves as the factor of economic viability which would underpin future investment. The impact of these new explorations in the context of Portuguese cartographic production gave rise to a variety of contrasting responses to spatial organization vis a vis those set out by their political rival. However, this is not to say that their responses were not motivated by a 8 The original reads: “Luego se hizieron a la vela para ir en busca del General, (...) fueron por la banda del Hueste a Çessarea [Mindanau] y allegaron a una punta de la isla que se llama Cabite, la cual dizen qu’es bien poblada y que tiene buen paresçer de tierra, sacaronle alli los indios a vender canela y ciera y miel. Esta punta toman los portugueses cuando vienen de Malaca y ban a Maluco”. FROM ST. LAZARUS TO THE PHILIPPINES profound requalification of the epistemic programme pertaining to the archipelago. Perhaps the most visible expression of this phenomenon was the irreversible abandonment of the practice of correcting the Casa de la Contratación’s cartographic model, which had been undertaken throughout the 1530s and 1540s. After 1554, the date of a planisphere signed by Lopo Homem (Cortesão and Mota, 1960: 1, plate 27), Portuguese cartography starts to integrate, albeit with stylistic divergences, the configurations introduced by Sancho Gutiérrez for the representations of Mindanao, Samar and Luzon. In addition, the traditional drawing of the Visayas was redefined in order to present profiles – not adopted in the 1551 planisphere – that referred to navigational experience at the time of Villalobos’ expedition, such as the case of the Leyte coast, where the only coastline to be drawn was the eastern one, which was actually surveyed. Thus, the arch of four islands surrounding northern Mindanao seen in previous cartographic works disappears and is replaced by a structure of three insular units placed in a triangular shape. In addition, this graphic re-composition was complemented by a selection of toponyms based on the surveys made by Villalobos’ men. This overarching cartographical renewal affected all possible locations in the available model for the Philippines. The preference for the recent explorations of the archipelago resulted in the implosion of the previous structure of knowledge based upon the route taken by the first voyage to the region, that of Magellan’s fleet. Palawan was the only place to conserve the graphic and toponymic identity ascribed to it in previous Portuguese charts. With regard to the Visayas, the legacy of Magellan’s voyage was reduced to the fundamental episodes that took place in the archipelago – those that in the mid-sixteenth century kept defining the expedition’s continued relevance and that of subsequent Spanish activity in Asia. I am referring to the event of Ferdinand Magellan’s death in Mactan, as well as the subsequent treason of their supposed regional ally, the ruler of Cebu. These episodes continued to be associated through toponymic inscriptions to the only insular shape – that of Cebu – which was transferred from the previous depictions of the Visayas. Between 1554 and 1580, Cebu was incorporated into a composition representing a graphic fusion of the remaining vestiges of information gathered from the voyage made by Magellan’s fleet, along with the closest geographical feature of the explorations undertaken in the 1540s, i.e., the island of Leyte. In objective terms, this graphic construction linked the characteristic layout of Cebu to the coastal strip of Leyte, which seemingly corresponds to the one Pedro Ortiz de Rueda had sailed to in 1543, and which lay between Sogod Bay and the river mouth which Rueda’s expedition had named “Abuyo”. This toponymy, present in Lopo Homem’s work, along with his abandoning some of the region’s established set of insular forms, lends weight to the hypothesis that this cartographic model was founded, in so far as was possible, on the explorations made by Villalobos’s fleet. Symptomatic of this is the fact that it was only Cebu (to a certain extent) and Palawan, which went unchanged, that maintained their cartographic identity. 35 36 MIGUEL RODRIGUES LOURENÇO These choices made to the cartographic depiction of the Philippines effectively relegated superior renderings in terms of geographic precision to a secondary status, in so far as they were abandoned. For example, this is the case for the delineation of Mindanao in the Wolfenbüttel’ chart and the Rome planisphere, and even the representation of the Visayas, which had been inherited from the Casa de Contratación charts and was repeated successively in the Portuguese maps up until the mid-century. Thereby, the new composition introduced a shift in terms of the fundamental perception of space – from a regional focus, in the sense that geographical information was acquired through the dynamics of the captaincy of Ternate, to a more transversal scope, one that transcended the usual logics for integrating information on the geography of Southeast and Eastern Asia in Portuguese cartography, by choosing to incorporate the surveys conducted by their rivals. From 1543 onwards, the Crown of Castile’s claim to the “Islands of the West” reiterated the problem of Spanish competition in Southeast Asia which confronted the Avis dynasty. The unexpected centrality of the St. Lazarus Archipelago as a site of dispute imposed the need to revaluate its strategic dimension. It should be recalled that the presence of the Villalobos’s fleet along the coastline of the Philippines coincided with a period of new trading opportunities for some Portuguese networks operating in Asia. Around the same time that López de Villalobos attempted to establish the Philippines as a node of operations, Portuguese traders were reinforcing their ties with their Asian partners in order to develop trade between Southeast Asia and the Chinese coast, which enabled them access to Japanese markets. Not long afterwards, the involvement of the Portuguese in this trade created the conditions for wintering and settling in a small harbour on the coast of the Guangdong Province, today known as Macau. Essentially, there was an economic drive circa 1550 which the Portuguese Crown sought to participate in by establishing a monopoly for the trade voyages to Japan. The increasing commercial opportunities to be found in a space where the Estado da Índia did not exert any form of official presence may have underpinned the guiding principles for the cartographic recreation of St. Lazarus. The new model must have evolved roughly between 1548, when the members of the ill-fated expedition returned to Europe, and 1554, as the incorporation of the new discoveries was not instantly applied to new maps, but, instead, over time. For the first time, the planisphere conserved in the Biblioteca Vallicelliana (circa 1550) includes the northern coasts of New Guinea, as charted by Ortiz de Retes in 1545 (Mota, 1960: I, 158), all the while maintaining compositional elements derived from the Philippines’ model of the Casa de la Contratación charts collated with information gathered during the Portuguese explorations undertaken close to and in Mindanao. The anonymous cartographer of this planisphere was, for example, the author of the most exemplary outline of the east coast of Mindanao; the only sixteenth-century depiction to present its true North-South orientation. The progressive renewal of geographic knowledge in the Portuguese maps made after 1548, once again, signals the lack of any ordered process of cartographic construction. With FROM ST. LAZARUS TO THE PHILIPPINES regard to the series of representational models or solutions for the Philippines, in particular, the phased inscription of geographic novelties that can be detected by contrasting the Rome planisphere and the one by Lopo Homem signals how consideration must be given to the communicative programme adopted for the archipelago. Finally, and akin to what appears to have occurred during the 1520s, the option taken by the Portuguese was to emulate the knowledge system used by their political competitor as opposed to the sources of data provided by their own knowledge gathering endeavours. The model revealed by Lopo Homem’s 1554 planisphere went on to influence subsequent Portuguese cartography up until the fall of the Avis dynasty, whereby the Philippines were integrated into subsequent charts. Diogo Homem, Bartolomeu Velho, Lázaro Luís, Sebastião Lopes, Domingos Teixeira and Fernão Vaz Dourado all repeated the graphic and toponymic structure established by Homem in 1554, which clearly denotes the sustained imperatives of a strategic nature that underpinned alterations made to this cartographic project. During the decades that followed, the exception to the monotonous recurrence of the same representational model is Palawan, whose representation was the only one to rupture the archipelago’s figurative monolithism. From the early 1560s, Portuguese cartography9 underwent a phenomenon akin to what occurred with Mindanao during the 1520s and 1530s. At the time, the specificity of the Portuguese interaction with this East Asian space and the shifting political and diplomatic panorama justified the occasional abandonment of a cartographic programme of knowledge that sought to provide an exclusive materialization of a particular navigational experience, that of Magellan’s expedition. In 1561/1563, cartographers such as Bartolomeu Velho and Lázaro Luís likewise possessed autonomous sources of information not pertaining to the expedition led by Villalobos, which they made recourse to in order to introduce, renew and develop solutions for Palawan’s cartographic representation. The latter changes to Palawan indicate that other instances of meaning were available and that were not circumscribed by the strategic or political concerns that had, from the outset, structurally presided over representations of the Philippines. The cartography of Bartolomeu Velho, for example, represents a unique and unrepeatable moment of fracture in the practices of thinking about this set of islands. The complete replacement of the old layout and toponymy of Palawan reveals how tiers of access to the space were reached, and these were either sufficiently complex or diversified to render inoperable or superfluous the previous referential cartographic framework provided by Magellan’s expedition. Until the start of the Spanish expansion across the archipelago, the representation proposed by 9 Except for the works by Diogo Homem, who maintained the traditional configuration of Palawan until, as far as can be discerned, 1568, the date of the atlas of the Sächische Landesbibliothek (Dresden). This delay, despite the newer configuration that had been adopted by Lázaro Luís and by Fernão Vaz Dourado was probably due to the cartographer’s exile. It is possible that his status hindered his access to updated cartographic resources, thereby forcing him to repeat the same models. 37 38 MIGUEL RODRIGUES LOURENÇO Figure 4 Detail of the Philippines in the anonymous atlas of c. 1560, attributed to Bartolomeu Velho, preserved at the Huntington Library of San Marino, California, HM 44, fol. 9. Image reproduced by permission of the Huntington Library of San Marino, California. FROM ST. LAZARUS TO THE PHILIPPINES Figure 5 Detail of the Philippines in Fernão Vaz Dourado’s atlas of 1571, preserved in the Torre do Tombo, Lisbon, Casa Forte 165, fol. 7. Originally published by Armando Cortesão and Avelino Teixeira da Mota in Portugaliae Monumenta Cartographica, vol. 3, plate 284. 39 40 MIGUEL RODRIGUES LOURENÇO Bartolomeu Velho provided the most accurate depiction of the island’s real contours (Figure 4). The corrections he made to the depiction of the west coast, the demarcation of a bay to the south of the island and the detailed treatment of the northern region, which has the shape of a pitchfork (probably an illusion prompted by the proximity between the northeast of Palawan and the neighbouring island of Dumaran) suggest a long-distance navigational experience (Lourenço, 2005: 8). We do not possess the necessary evidence to contextualize the view of Palawan provided by Bartolomeu Velho’s map. It may have been the result of the knowledge accumulated by the Portuguese while sailing along the intersecting routes between Borneo, Luzon, the Sulu Archipelago and southern China that passed Palawan. However, given the temporal specificity of this representation – only one of Velho’s two maps is dated to 1561, while the second is considered to have, approximately, been made in the early 1560s – suggests that they were based on the surveys made during a single voyage, which was, perhaps, led by one Nuno da Costa about whom nothing is known, except that he would give his name to the bay drawn in the Southeast of Palawan (possibly San Antonio bay). Thus, this map could be a cartographic composition developed during the 1550s, possibly in parallel with Lopo Homem’s model up until it was subsequently discontinued. Indeed, during the 1560s Portuguese cartographers chose not to impose a discourse of fracture onto the archipelago. In 1563 – the date given for the atlas made by Lázaro Luís (Cortesão and Mota, 1960: 2, plate 217) – an alternative cartographic discourse for Palawan was set out. By retrieving the format used by Lopo Homem, Luís added an impressive “coast of luçoes and Laos” which was maintained in representations of Palawan up until 1580 (Figure 5). Whereby, it becomes clear that there was a commitment to harmonize the information pertaining to Spanish surveys with that obtained from the of new maritime experiences undertaken in the region. The establishment and the maintenance of this representational model must have been linked to new sources of information or the circulation of information based on them. António Galvão’s Tratado dos Descobrimentos [Treaty of the Discoveries], which was printed the same year as Lázaro Luís completed his atlas, refers to a voyage made from Borneo to China by a Portuguese named Pero Fidalgo, which would have been undertaken aboard a junk in 1545 (Galvão, 1987: 169). According to Galvão’s account, having encountered difficult conditions at sea the vessel drifted past “an island at a longitude of nine or ten degrees, [and] up to twenty-two, that they call the Lucões”, although this exceeds the real dimensions of Palawan. Taking into account the acuity of the data mentioned in the text, it has been suggested that the route referred to in this description could correspond to the corridor of islands between the southernmost tip of Palawan and the edge of Taiwan. In adverse conditions, the route may have given the illusion of one unique coastline, which in cartographic terms was translated into the “coast of lucões and laos” that was introduced in 1563 along with a caption referring to the trip made by Pêro Fidalgo (Sousa e Garcia, 2003: 28; Garcia, 2005: 41-42). FROM ST. LAZARUS TO THE PHILIPPINES In the wake of the work by Lázaro Luís, Palawan is undoubtedly the most visible element of a discourse that articulated the memory of the Spanish explorations and the knowledge accumulated by the Portuguese as a result of their participation in Asian mercantile networks. In the 1560s the archipelago’s residual importance within the global context of the Portuguese engagement with Southeast Asia with regard to the increasing importance of southern China and Japan may have facilitated Palawan’s replacement of Mindanao as a linking referent between the two epistemic proposals.10 Indeed, this is suggested by a chart contained in an anonymous atlas dated to circa 1560, which was inserted into Livro de Marinharia de João de Lisboa; the island of Palawan has been displaced from its geographic field of reference, the Philippines, and was added to another visual field, where it was drawn in direct proximity to Borneo and the Chinese coast (Lourenço, 2005: 7-8). The image of the Philippines established by Lopo Homem, and whose definitive form was produced by Lázaro Luís , remained unaltered until the final work to reproduce it, which was undertaken in 1580 by Fernão Vaz Dourado. It was only around 1576, eleven years after the beginning of the conquest by Miguel López de Legazpi’s expedition, that an anonymous cartographer, identified with Fernão Vaz Dourado, recorded their advances by placing a flag over the island which was linked to the toponym “panaie”11 (Cortesão and Mota, 1960: 3, plate 341). However, until the Habsburg succession to the Portuguese Crown, the dispute over this space did not revive the Portuguese concern to renew the cartographic representation of the Philippines. 10 Symptomatically, only one toponym stands out in the cartographic conceptualization of Mindanao in this period, which, as we have seen, is associated to Villalobos’s expedition. It concerns the point where cinnamon was obtained on the Zamboanga Peninsula, which García de Escalante Alvarado called “Cavite” and Portuguese cartography refers to using the forms “cabrita” and “quabrita”. The fact the toponym appears in the accounts of the expedition led by Villalobos with a graphic variant points to an alternative form of linguistic incorporation into Portuguese cartography, resulting, perhaps, due to the more or less frequent presence of the Portuguese in the region, as Escalante Alvarado noted, in the context of the navigational routes between Malacca and Maluku (Varela, 1983: 140). 11 It is possible that the cartographer had intended to mark the voyage Miguel López de Legazpi made to Panay Island in 1569. In this case, the misunderstanding is remarkable, given that “panaie” had already appeared in 1563 in the atlas by Lázaro Luís, prior to the arrival of Legazpi to the archipelago. Therefore, it does not designate the modern Panay, but the small island of Panaon to the South of Leyte, called “Panal” during Villalobos’s trip (Varela, 1983: 134) and “Panae” in the itinerary recorded by Esteban Rodríguez in 1565 (CDR, 1947: V, 28). Furthermore, it is uncertain whether the insular configuration in question refers to Panaon, given that another toponym often appears in these charts, that of “Masagua”/Limasawa, which played a prominent role in both the expeditions led by Magellan, and that by Villalobos as a host port, whereby it is highly likely that this depiction could have been chosen to refer preferably to the latter toponym. 41 42 MIGUEL RODRIGUES LOURENÇO Spanish expansion in Asia and the uniformization of the cartographic models representing the Philippines (1565-1596) Between the initial phase of Spanish expansion into the islands of Southeast Asia and the dynastic transition in Portugal in 1580, the representation of the Philippines followed particular trajectories in the two Iberian kingdoms’ distinctive contexts of cartographic production. From the late 1560s, new information on the Filipino archipelago begins to arrive in Seville. In the short term, this documentary contribution led to a revision of the available models and would transform (and, ultimately, establish) the global image of these islands. On the Portuguese side, on the contrary, the practice of representing the Philippines was seemingly indifferent to the new spatial relationships which the Spanish occupation was starting to establish, and it was seemingly reluctant to reformulate its proposal for cartographic knowledge on the islands. The stasis imposed on the representation of the archipelago during, approximately, two decades in Portuguese cartography occurred regardless of the likely existence of resources for a reassessment of the cartographic model, especially by the Portuguese operating from Ternate. We know from Diogo do Couto and an early seventeenth-century anonymous author, that in 1566 Gonçalo Pereira Marramaque faced great difficulties when sailing his fleet from Borneo to Cebu, which did not happen again when he sought to return to this island from Ternate, where he equipped himself with “pilots who knew the islands of Scebu” (Garcia, 2003: 54). Likewise, the Castilian reports that were sent back to the peninsula following their arrival in the archipelago suggest that the Portuguese navigational practices became standard practice in the Bohol Sea, to such an extent that, in Ternate, a large-scale pillaging expedition was undertaken in Bohol and Limasawa (Lourenço, 2005: 7). In addition, Portuguese cartography from this period also benefitted from the contribution made by the Portuguese-Indian Fernão Vaz Dourado, who worked in Goa; it would not be unfair to argue that he had a comparative advantage over other cartographers settled in Portugal, when it came to accessing privileged documentation, whether that be about the islands, or regarding the progress of the Spanish conquest. The significance of the options taken by the Portuguese centres of cartographic production is unclear. On the one hand, between 1566-1568, the Portuguese failure to expel the Castilians from Cebu prevented, as had happened with past expeditions, the access of new exploratory surveys, and thereby a potentially new cartographic image. At this time the reproduction of the “after-image” of routes once sailed, which was the preferred practice in Portuguese cartography workshops for mapping the Philippines, was not based on as up-to-date resources as had been the case earlier in the century. On the other hand, their adherence to the same configuration of the archipelago may be indicative of an official ruling; thereby, the continuity of the model would have been considered as a better suitable cartographic representation within the context of the Portuguese-Spanish rivalry. Philip II’s accession to the Portuguese throne, brought an end to the premises that had defined the conceptualization of the archipelago’s cartographic representation for over half a FROM ST. LAZARUS TO THE PHILIPPINES Figure 6 Detail of the Philippines in Demarcación y división de las Indias, c. 1575, preserved in the John Carter Brown Library, Brown University. 43 44 MIGUEL RODRIGUES LOURENÇO Figure 7 Detail of the Philippines on the chart of East and Southeast Asia engraved by Henricus Florentius van Langren, based on prototypes by Bartolomeu Lasso, and printed in the Itinerario of Jan Huygen van Linschoten, 1596. Reproduced from the Portuguese edition of the Itinerario by Arie Pos and Rui Manuel Loureiro, CNCDP, Lisbon, 1997. FROM ST. LAZARUS TO THE PHILIPPINES century. Although the dynastic change did not effectively mean the end of Portuguese-Spanish tensions along the Asian fringes of the Iberian expansions, it did remove its martial expression and disentangled the Spanish presence from the political-diplomatic setbacks raised by the Avis dynasty. In Portuguese cartography, the disappearance of a hostile political argument opposing the Crown of Castile’s claim to the Philippines implied the end of the cartographic expression of that same position on the Portuguese side. As a result, the epistemic structure that had been reproduced since the beginning of the 1560s was discarded under the new dynasty. The superior geographic knowledge of the Philippines gathered during the fifteen years of Spanish uninterrupted presence dictated the replacement of the old model by new representational solutions. The new composition – current since circa 1583 – , which may be seen in the works by Sebastião Lopes, Luís Teixeira and Bartolomeu Lasso (Figure 7), corresponds to a de facto information revolution; one whose coastlines and toponymy (in so far as can be discerned in the available reproductions) was founded, entirely on the conquest and exploration of the islands begun in 1565. Although the drawings of Mindanao and Samar are transferred from Gutiérrez’s cartography, the new navigational knowledge obtained by the members of Miguel López de Legazpi’s expedition gave rise to an increased or renewed toponymy for these islands. Likewise, they resulted in the complete abandonment of all the residual graphic compositions, which were replaced by new surveys of the main islands of the archipelago (Luzon, Masbate, Palawan, Mindoro, Panay, Cebu, Negros and Leyte), as well as smaller ones. There is insufficient information to fully determine when this new model gained currency. Undoubtedly it was after 1574, when Juan López de Velasco delivered the manuscript of his Descripción Universal de las Indias to the Council of Indies (Consejo de Indias). Although, his text provides clues about the toponymy of the northwestern region of Luzon – the regions of Pangasinan and of Ilocos, explored during 1572 (López de Velasco, 1971: 299-300) – Velasco did not benefit from cartographic information gathered any time after early 1572. The layout of Luzon that accompanies the copy of his manuscript in the John Carter Brown Library (Figure 6) reveals how his knowledge was limited to southern regions of the island, and was based either on sailing between the bay of Manila and the tip of the Bicol Peninsula, en route to New Spain, or from the campaigns led by Martín de Goiti and the explorations undertaken by Juan de Salcedo in Pampanga and Camarines, respectively, which were both carried out in 1571. The imaginary and incomplete prolongation of the longitudinal layout of Luzon above the region of Manila and of Laguna de Bay seems to illustrate the words of an anonymous author who in April 1572 described the geography of Manila as: “the island extends from Manila to the West (…); the natives are unable to say how long the island is” (Hidalgo Nuchera, 1995: 299)12. 12 The original reads: “dende Manila hazia al hueste corre mucho esta ysla (...); los naturales no han sabido dezir qué tan lexos va la longitud de la ysla”. 45 46 MIGUEL RODRIGUES LOURENÇO It would not be long before the cartographic proposal for Luzon depicted using an open layout would be discarded. The same year that this anonymous account was written, Juan de Salcedo led an expedition to the island’s northern regions, whereby he was able to rectify the provisional idea of the island’s form. Although his voyage is only recorded in later texts, such as that by Friar Gaspar de San Agustín, O.S.A. (1698), as well as other eighteenth-century chronicles and accounts (San Agustín, 1975: 379-394; Ferrand, 1870: 159-161; Alcazar, 1895: 23-24), Salcedo surveyed the unexplored coastlines of Luzon following a route taken to the north of the island and the opposite shore, and this is recorded by the Augustinian, Friar Francisco de Ortega, in Manila in 1573: “(...) he undertook a thing that everyone admires because it was undoubtedly very bold, daring and spirited; and this was wanting to survey the island, just as he did (...) going as far as had already been seen and navigated” (Hidalgo Nuchera, 1995: 315-316)13. Undoubtedly this initiative gave rise to the conclusion of the Luzon coastline along with the abundant toponymy inscribed along its western side in the cartography of the 1580s and the 1590s. The latter would be repeated in Portuguese cartography from the early 1580s up until the end of the century. More serious difficulties are encountered with regard to Palawan. Juan López de Velasco makes no mention of this island in his “Hidrografía de las Islas Filipinas”, and its representation is absent from the drawing conserved in the John Carter Brown Library. Its exclusion clearly demonstrates the gradual marginalization and neglect that befell Palawan in Spanish geographic culture during the sixteenth century, seeing as no expedition would return there following its initial discovery. In 1601, a revival of the island’s outline created in the 1520s was used in order to complete the depiction created by López de Velasco – for the purpose of illustrating Antonio de Herrera’s publication of his Decadas; this text shows that by the mid-1570s no new elements had emerged, which would have permitted the creation of an alternative cartographic discourse concerning the island. However, it would not take long for Palawan to become the focus of attention once more. By 1582, Miguel de Loarca referred to the “calamianes” in his Tratado on the Philippines, stating that “the main island is called paraguan” (AGI, Patronato, 23, R9, fl. 14v). Calamianes is also included in Portuguese charts made circa 1583 as a reference associated with the latest cartographic configuration of the island. During the 1570s, these alterations must have become established in the official Spanish cartography, and attained a degree of stability around the time of the dynastic transition in Portugal. It was then that the legacy of an empire distributed over three continents would have become a still more pressing concern, one which for the Habsburgs required the accumulation of a body of geographic knowledge that could meet the demands of an immense territorial project that extended over a world undergoing continuous expansion. The integration of the 13 The original reads: “(...) acometió vna cosa que a todos pone admiraçión porque sin dubda es muy osado, atribido y animoso; y ffue querer boxear la ysla, como lo hizo (...) hasta donde estaua ya bisto y boxeado”. FROM ST. LAZARUS TO THE PHILIPPINES Portuguese empire into Philip II’s global politics, irrespective of the recognition of the country’s political governance, imposed, through a mere logistic imperative, the revision of the specific fields of physical and human geography with regard to the domains of the Crown of Castile. The principle of autonomy that governed the Iberian empires did not preclude the need to optimize either the resources used to govern it or the mechanics of informative exchange that this required. As early as 1583, Philip II, became aware of the deficiencies and inaccuracies of the Portuguese sea charts, and he ordered Juan de Herrera and Bernardino de Escalante to travel to Portugal and to summon a committee “of the best pilots due to their very manifest mistakes, as well as the Geographers due to the neglect shown in the charts” in order to proceed with the systematic correction of their work (Cerezo Martínez, 1994: 239)14. The popularization of a new cartographic model of the Philippines in Portuguese cartography, with an outline and toponymy conceived in the Spanish context, was thus a response to the fundamental imperatives that underpinned the engagement with space. The absorption of the new proposal, which was an indispensable tool for efficient Iberian cooperation, crystallized the structure and aims of the Spanish spatial perception, and embedded it within the Portuguese cartographic conceptualization of Asian geography, which thereby established this representation of space and the new balance of Iberian power in the region. Conclusion Throughout the foregoing study, an emphasis has been placed upon the group of islands which, from the outset, we not only designated and defined as the “Philippines”, but also identified with the archipelago that is recognized with that onomastic today. Evidently, this methodology is underpinned by an evident anachronism, as it precedes the expansion and constitution of a structure of government over this set of islands. In this case, the anachronism is all the more remarkable inasmuch as the “Filipinas” was not, even, the first identity proposed as a way of understanding – in other words to, simultaneously, encompass and endow with meaning – the archipelago in question. “Filipinas”, as Juan López de Velasco well understood, was the onomastic expression that was circumstantially coined to support a structure of geographic cohesion imposed on a specific set of islands, which, otherwise, would have remained undifferentiated: “at that time [1521] they [islands of the Philippines] were not considered as anything different from those of the Maluku, nor much later during the discussions that emerged over the demarcation [between the crowns of Portugal and Castile] (...) until in the year of [15]42 or [15]43 Ruy López de Villalobos travelled to them (...) and having arrived on the island of Tanday [Samar], he gave it the name Filipina, to commemorate and show devotion to King Don Philip 14 The original reads: “de los mejores pilotos por la razón de sus yerros muy manifiestos, y a los Geógrafos de sus descuidos en las cartas”. 47 48 MIGUEL RODRIGUES LOURENÇO our lord, the second with this name, who at the time was prince of Spain, whereby the others were called Filipinas”15 (López de Velasco, 1971: 295). The account given by the cosmographer and chronicler of the Indies is very clear with regard to the condition of the Philippines’ possible identity as perceived by the Spanish. It was non-existent while the Crown of Castile’s Asian projects were focused on Maluku, but this became a phenomenon under construction as soon as the integration of the archipelago into the Spanish logic of spatial perception was put forward. Historically, it is clear that the transition is not entirely credible. From the outset, the attribution of a saint’s name, “St. Lazarus”, to a group of islands that did not match the expectations of the fleet, institutes a differentiation, that is nonetheless an attribution of identity. Cumulatively, over the ten years that followed, a different trend would emerge: to conceive the future Philippines as an integral part of the Celebes’ Archipelago, an idea put forward as early as 1537 by Andrés de Urdaneta (CVD, 1955: III, 243) and later disseminated in the texts of Gabriel Rebelo and of Diogo do Couto. However, the fact that, in 1574, the senior person in charge of systematizing the geographic knowledge available to the Crown of Castile could describe the Philippines in the manner he did, means these islands did not possess in the eyes of the Spaniards any distinctive identity traits favouring their conceptual individuation. Therefore, the imagination of a Spanish archipelago in Southeast Asia benefitted from the circumstances that enabled the 1521 navigational route to persist as a referent of knowledge: on one hand, this was due to the fact that from a Spanish perspective these islands were an indistinguishable geographical group which had been identified during an exploratory voyage towards an alternative destiny, i.e. Maluku – and, therefore, were differentiated from it; on the other hand, the contingency of these islands due to their having represented a marginal role in the context of Portuguese trading activities in the region prevented the affirmation, creation or dissemination of identity proposals on the Portuguese side that would efficaciously counteract that of “Filipinas”. When Maluku ceased to be a viable prospect for the Crown of Castile, the future Philippines became the target of the subsequent expeditions led by Ruy López de Villalobos and of Miguel López de Legazpi. Thus, the legitimacy of the Spanish intervention in the “Islands of the West” (islas del Poniente) meant generating a specific identity for the archipelago, one which was differentiated from Maluku, which they regarded as having been the object of the treaty signed in Zaragoza. The decision to consider and analyse the cartographic conception of the “Philippines” prior to their existence as such, is thus based on the enduring memory of the Spanish 15 The original reads: “por entonces [1521] no se tuvieron [as Filipinas] por cosa distinta de las de los Malucos, ni mucho después en las diferencias que hubo sobre la demarcación (...) hasta que el año de 42 ó 43 fué a ellas Ruy Lope de Villalobos (...) que habiendo llegado á la isla de Tanday [Samar], puso por nombre Filipina, en memoria y devoción del Rey Don Felipe nuestro señor segundo de este nombre, que á la sazon era príncipe de España, de la cual se llamaron las otras Filipinas”. FROM ST. LAZARUS TO THE PHILIPPINES engagement with these Islands. In Portuguese cartography, the discursive change between the representations of Asia and of the Philippines is blatantly clear. The evocation of the route taken by their Iberian rivals always carried more weight in the Portuguese conception of a set of islands that, except for Borneo, tended to have as their common denominator, firstly, their first surveys, and, secondly, the dispute with the Spanish adversaries. The alternation of solutions of cartographic representation, oscillating between local knowledge and that directly obtained through Portuguese networks, on the one hand, and exogenously constituted models, on the other, clearly demonstrates these options’ lack of linearity. Throughout the sixteenth century, the Philippines did not necessarily give rise to cartographic discourses intended to provide the latest information, as was the tendency on the Spanish side; their access to the space was more limited and less frequent, which generated a quantitative and qualitative increase in the available information and a subsequent re-composition of the cartographic model. On the contrary, the chronology of Portuguese cartography reveals continuous reformulations of the projects of knowledge associated with the archipelago, in response to the revival or the diminution of tensions along the insular Asian demarcation between the two crowns. The cartographic reading of the “islands discovered by Ferdinand Magellan” reveals a myriad of fragments of knowledge juxtaposed and articulated in a complex, plural discourse, that systematized relationships, navigational routes, charts and drawings, among other resources. By analysing the morphological and toponymic mutations of the Philippines in the diachronic order of these cartographic specimens, this chapter has sought to formulate a broad understanding of the several informative proposals that underpinned the different cartographic models executed over the course of the sixteenth century. Working at this level, and by amplifying the scale of analysis at a microanalytical level, future studies will undoubtedly provide still more complete tiers of understanding concerning the detailed spatial relationships that not only provided, but, also justified the options taken for the representation created by the cartographers of the Iberian kingdoms during the sixteenth century. 49 50 MIGUEL RODRIGUES LOURENÇO Sources and Bibliography Acronyms AGI – Archivo General de Indias (Sevilha) CEPESA – Centro Português de Estudos do Sudeste Asiático CNCDP – Comissão Nacional para as Comemorações dos Descobrimentos Portugueses CVD – Colección de los viages y descubrimientos, que hicieron por mar los españoles desde fines del siglo XV CDI – Colección de documentos inéditos relativos al descubrimiento, conquista y organización de las antiguas posesiones españolas de Ultramar CDR – Colección de diarios y relaciones para la historia de los viajes y descubrimientos Gavetas – As Gavetas da Torre do Tombo HL – The Huntington Library (San Marino, Califórnia) Sources Blair, Emma Helen; Robertson, James Alexander, The Philippine Islands. 1493-1898, 55 vols., Arthur H. Clark, Cleveland, Ohio, 2000 [cd-rom] (1st ed.: 1903-1909) Castanheda, Fernão Lopes de, História do Descobrimento e Conquista da Índia pelos Portugueses. Ed. by M. Lopes de Almeida, 2 vols., Lello & Irmão, Porto, 1979. Colección de diarios y relaciones para la historia de los viajes y descubrimientos, vols. 4 and 5, Instituto Histórico de Marina, Madrid, 1944-1947. Colección de documentos inéditos relativos al descubrimiento, conquista y organización de las antiguas posesiones españolas de Ultramar, 2nd ed., vols. II and III, Nendeln (Liechtenstein), Kraus Reprint, 1967. Colección de los viages y descubrimientos, que hicieron por mar los españoles desde fines del siglo XV: con varios documentos inéditos concernientes a la historia de la Marina castellana y de los establecimientos españoles en Indias. Ed by Martín Fernández de Navarrete, vols. 4 y 5, En la Imprenta Real, Madrid, 1837 (New edition in 3 volumes by Carlos Seco Serrano in Obras de D. Martín Fernández de Navarrete, Biblioteca de Autores Españoles, Madrid, 1955). Correia, Gaspar, Lendas da Índia. Introdução e revisão de M. Lopes de Almeida, vols 2-4, Lello & Irmão, Porto, 1975. Couto, Diogo do, Década Quarta da Ásia. Ed. by M. Augusta Lima Cruz, 2 vols., CNCDP, Fundação Oriente and Imprensa Nacional Casa da Moeda, Lisbon, 1999. Couto, Diogo do, Decada Quinta da Ásia, Lisbon, by Pedro Crasbeeck, 1612. Descripción de los reinos, costas, puertos e islas que hay desde el Cabo de Buena Esperanza hasta los Leyquios por Fernando de Magallanes, piloto portugués que lo vió y anduvo tudo, Libro que trata del descubrimiento y principio del estrecho que se llama de Magallanes por Ginés de Mafra y Descripción de parte del Japón FROM ST. LAZARUS TO THE PHILIPPINES (Anónima). Ed. by Antonio Blazquez y Delgado Aguilera, Estabecimiento Tipográfico de Torrent y Compañía, Madrid, 1920. Documentação para a História das Missões do Padroado Português. Insulíndia. Ed. by Artur Basílio de Sá, 6 vols., Lisbon, Agência Geral do Ultramar and IICT, 1954-1988. Ferrand, Juan, Historia de los PP. Dominicos en las Islas Filipinas y en sus misiones del Japón, China, Tung King y Formosa, tomo 1, Imprenta y estereotipia de M. Rivadeneyra, Madrid, 1870. Galvão, António, Tratado dos Descobrimentos, 4.th ed., Livraria Civilização, Porto, 1987 [1563]. Gavetas da Torre do Tombo (As), vols. 4 and 9, Centro de Estudos Históricos Ultramarinos, Lisbon, 1964 and 1971. Herrera y Tordesillas, Antonio de, Historia General de los Hechos de los Castellanos en las Islas y Tierrafirme del Mar Océano o “Decadas”. Ed. by Mariano Cuesta Domingo, 4 tomes, Universidad Complutense de Madrid, [Madrid], [s. d.]. Hidalgo Nuchera, Patricio, Ed., Los Primeros de Filipinas. Crónicas de la Conquista del Archipiélago, Miraguano Ediciones e Ediciones Polifemo, Madrid, 1995. Linschoten, Jan Huygen van, Itinerário, viagem ou navegação para as Índias Orientais ou Portuguesas. Ed. by Arie Pos and Rui Manuel Loureiro, CNCDP, Lisbon, 1997. Livro de Duarte Barbosa (O) (Edição Crítica e Anotada). Ed. by Maria Augusta da Veiga e Sousa, 2 vols., Ministério da Ciência e da Tecnologia, IICT, Lisbon, 1996. López de Velasco, Juan, Geografía y Descripción Universal de las Indias. Edición de Don Marcos Jiménez de la Espada. Ed. by María del Carmen González Muñoz. Biblioteca de Autores Españoles, Madrid, 1971. Oviedo y Valdés, Gonzalo Fernández, Historia General y Natural de las Indias, Islas y Tierra Firme del Mar Océano. Ed. by José Amador de los Rios, t. 2, Imprenta de la Real Academia de la Historia, Madrid, 1852. Pigafetta, Antonio, Primer Viaje Alrededor del Mundo. Ed. by Leoncio Cabrero Fernández, Dastin, Madrid, 2002. Primer documento impreso de la Historia de las Islas Filipinas. Relata la Expedición de Legazpi, que llegó a Cebú en 1565. Estampado en Barcelona el año 1566. Ed. by Carlos Sanz. [s.n.], [s.l.], [1958]. Rebelo, Gabriel, “Historia das Ilhas de Maluco Escripta no Anno de 1561”, in Documentação para a História das Missões do Padroado Português do Oriente. Insulíndia. Ed. by Artur Basílio de Sá, vol. 3, Agência Geral do Ultramar, Lisbon, 1955, pp. 1933-43. Rebelo, Gabriel, “Informação das Cousas de Maluco”, in Documentação para a História das Missões do Padroado Português do Oriente. Insulíndia. Ed. by Artur Basílio de Sá, vol. 3, Agência Geral do Ultramar, Lisbon, 1955, pp. 348-508. Rebelo, Gabriel, “Informaçam das Cousas de Maluco”, in Documentação para a História das Missões do Padroado Português do Oriente. Insulíndia. Ed. by Artur Basílio de Sá, vol. 6, Instituto de Investigação Científica e Tropical, Lisbon, 1988, pp. 163-294. San Agustín, Gaspar de, Conquista de las Islas Filipinas (1565-1615). Ed. by Manuel Merino, O.S.A. Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, Madrid, 1975. 51 52 MIGUEL RODRIGUES LOURENÇO Santa Cruz, Alonso de, “Islario General de todas las islas del mundo [...]”, Boletín de la Real Sociedad Geográfica, tomes 60 and 61, Madrid, 1918-1919, pp. 788; 231-392; 491-516 from tome 60; pp. 69-128; 217-288; 437-728 from tome 61. Suma Oriental de Tomé Pires e o Livro de Francisco Rodrigues (A). Ed. by Armando Cortesão. Por Ordem da Universidade, [Coimbra], 1978. Treatise on the Moluccas (c. 1544) (A). Edited, annotated, and translated into English from the Portuguese manuscript in the Archivo General de Indias by Hubert Th. M. Jacobs, S.J., Jesuit Historical Institute, Roma e St. Louis, 1971. Viaje de don Ruy López de Villalobos a las islas del Poniente (El). 1542-1548. Ed. by Consuelo Varela, Istituto Editoriale CisalpinoLa Goliardica, Milan, 1983. Cartography Atlas de Fernão Vaz Dourado. Facsimile edition [from the fols. 1 a 18 (frontispice and charts)]. Foreword by Margarida Garcez Ventura. Ed. Poseidon, Lisbon, 2005. Atlas de Lázaro Luís. 1563. Códice da Academia das Ciências de Lisboa. Ed. by Luís de Albuquerque and Maria Catarina Henriques dos Santos. Academia das Ciências de Lisboa, Lisbon, 1990. Atlas “Vallard”, 1547, unpublished (The Huntington Library, San Marino, Califórnia, HM 29) [Representation of the Philippines at fols. 1v2, <http://dpg.lib.berkeley.edu/webdb/dsheh/heh_brf?Description=&CallNumber=HM+29> accessed: 24 March 2008] Cortesão, Armando e Mota, A. Teixeira da, Portugaliae Monumenta Cartographica, 5 vols., [s.n.], Lisbon, 1960. Dourado, Fernão Vaz, Atlas. Reprodução do códice iluminado 171 da Biblioteca Nacional. Ed. by Luís de Albuquerque, Maria Armanda Ramos Taveira and Maria Catarina Madeira Santos. CNCDP and Finantia, Lisbon, 1991. Garcia, José Manuel, O Livro de Francisco Rodrigues. O Primeiro Atlas do Mundo Moderno, Universidade do Porto, Porto, 2008. Gutiérrez, Sancho, 1551, Planisfério manuscrito (Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Viena, Picture Archive, K I 99416, Tf. 1). Wider, F. C., Monumenta Cartographica, vol. 2, Martinus Nijhoff, The Hague, 1927. Bibliography Alcazar, José de (1895), Historia de los dominios españoles en Oceanía: Filipinas, Imprenta de J. Atayde y Comp., Manila. Albuquerque, Luís de (1989), A Cartografia Portuguesa nos Séculos XV a XVII, offprint from História e Desenvolvimento da Ciência em Portugal, vol. 2, Lisbon, pp. 1061-1084. FROM ST. LAZARUS TO THE PHILIPPINES Albuquerque, Luís de (ed., imp. 1994); Domingues, Francisco Contente (coord., imp. 1994), Dicionário de História dos Descobrimentos Portugueses, 2 vols., Círculo de Leitores, [s. l.]. Barreto, Luís Filipe (Cartographic Selection and Text, 1997), Cartografia de Macau (Séculos XVI e XVII), Missão de Macau em Lisboa, [Lisbon]. Barreto, Luís Filipe (2006), Macau: Poder e Saber. Séculos XVI e XVII, Ed. Presença, Lisbon. Barreto, Luís Filipe (2000), Lavrar o Mar. Os Portugueses e a Ásia. c. 1480 c. 1630, CNCDP, Lisbon. Barreto, Luís Filipe (1986), Introdução à Sabedoria do Mar, Centro de História da Cultura da Universidade Nova de Lisboa, Lisbon. Cerezo Martínez, Ricardo (1994), La Cartografía Náutica Española en los Siglos XIV, XV y XVI, Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, Madrid. Cortesão, Armando (1935), Cartografia e Cartógrafos Portugueses dos Séculos XV e XVI (Contribuição para um estudo completo), 2 vols., Seara Nova, Lisbon. Costa, João Paulo Oliveira e (1995), A Descoberta da Civilização Japonesa pelos Portugueses, Instituto Cultural de Macau e Instituto de História de AlémMar, [s. l.]. Costa, Leonor Freire (2004), “Acerca da produção cartográfica no século XVI”, Revista de História Económica e Social, n.º 24, Lisbon, pp. 126. Díaz Trechuelo, María Lourdes (1984), “Filipinas en el Siglo XVI”, Historia General de España y América. El descubrimiento y la fundación de los Reinos ultramarinos. Coordinación de Manuel Lucena Salmoral, Tomo 7, Ediciones RIALP, Madrid, pp. 563-571. Edwards, Clinton R. (1969), “Mapping by questionnaire: an early Spanish attempt to determine New World geographical positions”, Imago Mundi, vol. XXII, Amsterdam, pp. 17-27. Garcia, José Manuel (2003), As Filipinas na Historiografia Portuguesa do Século XVI, CEPESA, [s.l.]. Gil, Juan (1989), Mitos y Utopías del Descubrimiento, vols. 1 and 2, Alianza Editorial, Madrid. González González, Alfonso (1973), “Los requerimientos portugueses a Legazpi sobre la pertenencia de Filipinas”, El Tratado de Tordesillas y su Proyección. Segundas Jornadas Americanistas. Primer Coloquio LusoEspañol de Historia Ultramarina, tome 1, Universidad de Valladolid, Valladolid, pp. 255291. Harley, John Brian; Woodward, David (eds., 1987), The History of Cartography, vol. 1, The University of Chicago Press, Chicago and Londres. Hidalgo Nuchera, Patricio (2003), Guía bibliográfica de fuentes manuscritas para la historia de Filipinas conservadas fuera de España, Fundación Mapfre Tavera, Madrid. Hidalgo Nuchera, Patricio (1998), Guía de fuentes manuscritas para la Historia de Filipinas conservadas en España. Con una guía de instrumentos bibliográficos y de investigación, Fundación Histórica Tavera, Madrid. Jacob, Christian (1992), L’Empire des Cartes. Approche théorique de la cartographie à travers l’histoire, Albin Michel, Paris. Lach, Donald F.; Van Kley, Edwin J. (1993), Asia in the Making of Europe, vol. 3, The University of Chicago Press, Chicago and Londres. 53 54 MIGUEL RODRIGUES LOURENÇO Lagoa, Visconde de (1950-1953), Glossário Toponímico da Antiga Historiografia Portuguesa Ultramarina. Ásia e Oceania, 3 vols., part 1, Ministério do Ultramar and Junta das Missões Geográficas e de Investigações do Ultramar, [Lisbon]. [Adenda and Corrigenda to part 1 of 1954] Landin Carrasco, Amancio (1984), Islario Español del Pacífico, Ediciones Cultura Hispana, Madrid. Landin Carrasco, Amancio (dir., 1992), Descubrimientos Españoles en la Mar del Sur, 3 vols., Editorial Naval, Madrid. León Guerrero, María Montserrat (1999), “Los Descubrimientos Cartográficos del Viaje de Legazpi”, in: Cuesta Domingo, Mariano (coord., 1999), Descubrimientos y Cartografía en la Época de Felipe II. Seminario Iberoamericano de Descubrimientos y Cartografía, Instituto Interuniversitario de Estudios de Iberoamérica y Portugal and Ayuntamiento de Valladolid, Valladolid, pp. 265-286. Loureiro, Rui Manuel (2004), António Galvão e os seus tratados históricogeográficos, separata de D. João III e o Império. Actas do Congresso Internacional comemorativo do seu nascimento (Lisboa e Tomar, 4 a 8 de Junho de 2002), Lisbon, pp. 85-102. Loureiro, Rui Manuel (2000), Fidalgos, Missionários e Mandarins: Portugal e a China no Século XVI, Fundação Oriente, [Lisbon]. Lourenço, Miguel José Rodrigues (2006), As Filipinas na Literatura Histórica Ibérica (1580-1640). Uma análise estrutural. Research conducted with the support of the Programa de Bolsas Integradas Ruy de Clavijo of Casa Asia. Unpublished. Lourenço, Miguel (2005), “Os portugueses e as Filipinas no século XVI. Estudo de cartografia histórica”, Centro Macau, n.º 1, [Lisbon], pp. 49. Magnaghi, Alberto (1927), La prima rappresentazione delle Filippine e delle Molucche dopo il ritorno della spedizione di Magellano, nella carta construita nel 1522 da Nuño Garcia de Toreno, conservata nella Biblioteca di S. M. il Re in Torino, offprint from Atti. X Congresso Geografico Italiano, volume primo, Milan, pp. 293-307. Martín-Merás, Luisa, (s. d.), Cartografía Marítima Hispana. La imagen de América, Lunwerg Editores, Barcelona and Madrid. Meilink-Roelofsz, Marie Antoinette Petronella (1962), Asian Trade and European Influence in the Indonesian Archipelago between 1500 and about 1600, Martinus Nijhoff, The Hague. Mota, A. Teixeira da (1969), O Cosmógrafo Bartolomeu Velho em Espanha, separata de Revista da Faculdade de Ciências, vol. 39, Coimbra, pp. 527. Mota, A. Teixeira da (ed., 1975), A Viagem de Fernão de Magalhães e a Questão das Molucas. Actas do II Colóquio Luso-Espanhol de História Ultramarina, Junta de Investigações Científicas do Ultramar, Lisbon. Oliveira, Francisco Roque de (2003), “Os Portugueses e a Ásia Marítima, c. 1500-c. 1640: Contributo para uma leitura global da primeira expansão europeia no Oriente. 1ª Parte: Os mares da Ásia no início do século XVI”, Scripta Nova. Revista Electrónica de Geografía y Ciencias Sociales, vol. 7, n.º 151 <http:// www.ub.es/geoscript/sn/sn151.htm> Accessed: 04 March 2004. Oliveira, Francisco Roque de (2003), “Os Portugueses e a Ásia Marítima, c. 1500-c. 1640: Contributo para uma leitura global da primeira expansão europeia no Oriente. 2ª Parte: O Estado Português da FROM ST. LAZARUS TO THE PHILIPPINES Índia”, Scripta Nova. Revista Electrónica de Geografía y Ciencias Sociales, vol. 7, n.º 152 <http://www. ub.es/geoscript/sn/sn152.htm> Accessed: 04 March 2004. Ollé, Manel (2003), “A inserção das Filipinas na Ásia Oriental (15651593)”, Revista de Cultura. Edição Internacional, n.º 7, R. A. E. de Macau, pp. 7-22. Ollé, Manel (2000), La invención de China. Percepciones y estrategias filipinas respecto a China durante el siglo XVI, Harrassowizt Verlag, Wiesbaden. Parker, Geoffrey (1992), “Maps and Ministers: The Spanish Habsburgs”, in: David Buisseret (ed., 1992), Monarchs, Ministers and Maps. The Emergence of Cartography as a Tool of Government in Early Modern Europe. The University of Chicago Press, Chicago and Londres, pp. 124-152. Pérez-Bustamante, Ciriaco (1975), “La Expedición de Ruy López de Villalobos a las Islas del Pacífico”, in: Mota, A. Teixeira da (ed., 1975), A Viagem de Fernão de Magalhães e a Questão das Molucas. Actas do II Colóquio Luso-Espanhol de História Ultramarina. Junta de Investigações Científicas do Ultramar, Lisbon, pp. 613-626. Philippine Islands. Sailing Directions (Enroute) (2001). Prepared and published by the National Imagery and Mapping Agency, 5.ª ed., NGA, Bethesda, Maryland (EUA). Prieto, Ana María (1993), El contacto hispano-indígena en Filipinas según la historiografía de los siglos XVI y XVII, Servicio de Publicaciones de la Universidad de Córdoba, Córdoba. Quirino, Carlos (1959), Philippine Cartography (13201899), Carmelo & Bauermann, Inc., Manila. Rumeu de Armas, Antonio (1992), El Tratado de Tordesillas, Editorial MAPFRE, Madrid. Sousa, Ivo Carneiro de e Garcia, José Manuel (2001), The First Portuguese Maps and Sketches of Southeast Asia and the Philippines, CEPESA, [s.l.]. Thomaz, Luís Filipe F. R. (1998), De Ceuta a Timor, 2ª ed., Difel, Lisbon. Thomaz, Luís Filipe F. R. (1995), “The image of the Archipelago in Portuguese cartography of the 16th and early 17th centuries”, Archipel, n.º 29, Paris, pp. 79-124. Torres Lanzas, Pedro (1918-1923), Catálogo de los documentos relativos a las Islas Filipinas existentes en el Archivo de Indias de Sevilla, 5 vols., Compañía General de Tabacos, Barcelona. Wagner, Henry R. (1951), “A Map of Sancho Gutiérrez of 1551”, Imago Mundi, vol. 8, Stockholm, pp. 47-49. 55