REYES Flaunting 2017
REYES Flaunting 2017
JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide
range of content in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and
facilitate new forms of scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact [email protected].
Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at
https://about.jstor.org/terms
University of Pennsylvania Press is collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend
access to Early American Studies
R AQ U E L A . G . R E Y E S
The School of Oriental and African Stadies (SOAS), University of London
I wish to warmly thank Jessica Choppin Roney at Temple University for inviting
me to Philadelphia to present an earlier draft of this paper at the superb conference
she organized on Port Cities in the Early Modern World at the University of Penn-
sylvania, McNeil Center for Early American Studies, November 5–7, 2015, and
Christian J. Koot at Towson University, Maryland, for his generous and stimulating
comments. Mark Mir, archivist at the Ricci Institute, University of San Francisco,
and Jim Richardson in London gave me their unstinting help and encouragement
in the research for this paper.
INTRODUCTION
When the Spanish navigator Miguel López de Legazpi (1502–72) and his
party of conquistadors arrived in the lowlands of Luzon in 1571, they found
a sheltered natural harbor on the eastern side of a bay and at the mouth of
the Pasig River. They encountered a population composed of natives, set-
tlers and merchants, and Muslim missionaries, about two thousand souls all
told, who lived in sparse clusters of hamlets and villages. They learned how
these communities were loosely organized in small sociopolitical and spatial
units called barangay, which had only just begun to submit to the leadership
of a foremost datu. These Muslims and native converts of the settlement
known as Maynilad, Spanish chroniclers noted, were strikingly proud, self-
confident, and aggressive in nature, materially prosperous and cultivated in
manners. They were bound by blood, trade, and friendship to the sultan
of Brunei, and they nurtured connections of commerce and culture with
neighboring Muslim centers spanning the Jolo archipelago in southern
Philippines; Borneo; Aceh, at the northern tip of Sumatra; the Moluccas,
within the Indonesian archipelago; Malacca, in the Malay Peninsula; and
Pattani, in the southern region of Thailand. At various times of the year,
Chinese merchants, the majority of whom came from the Fujian province
and were southern Min speakers, arrived in trading junks laden with wares
to do business with the coastal Malays, who favored their jars and dishes.
Chinese merchandise in turn would be used to barter for valuable forest
products—plant medicines, honey, and beeswax—that Negrito upland
peoples supplied. With its safe harbor, strategic position that allowed for
intraregional trade, and established Sino-Filipino-Muslim trade networks,
Manila presented an ideal location.
Legazpi liked what he saw. As he had done a few years earlier in the
Visayas, in the central Philippines, he expended great effort in putting down
local resistance and set about establishing a permanent colonial settlement.
He deposed Rajah Sulayman, the key native datu of Manila, negotiated a
series of pacts and alliances, and instituted Manila as the capital of the
Philippine archipelago, which the Spaniards would rule for more than three
hundred years, until 1898.
Legazpi died in 1572, by which time Spanish domination of the country
was virtually complete. Moreover, seven years earlier, a fast and efficient
return route across the Pacific to Mexico, a critical factor to Spain’s venture
in the East Indies, had already been secured by the circumnavigator and
Augustinian friar Andrés de Urdaneta (1498–1568). Carrying a small cargo
of cinnamon from Mindanao, Urdaneta sailed northeasterly from the
1. Dennis O. Flynn, Arturo Giráldez, and James Sobredo, eds., European Entry
into the Pacific: Spain and the Acapulco-Manila Galleons (Burlington, Vt.: Ashgate,
2001), xvii; O. H. K. Spate, The Spanish Lake (London: Croom Helm, 1979).
2. Most recent works are Tatiana Seijas, Asian Slaves in Colonial Mexico: From
Chinos to Indians (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2014); Birgit Tremml-
Werner, Spain, China and Japan in Manila, 1571–1644: Local Comparisons and
Global Connections (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2015); Arturo Giral-
dez, The Age of Trade: The Manila Galleons and the Dawn of the Global Economy
(London: Rowman and Littlefield, 2015). See also selected essays in A Primeira
Viagem Histórica da Globalização (Macau: Instituto Cultural de Macao, 2006).
3. Dennis O. Flynn, Lionel Frost, and A. J. H. Latham, eds., Pacific Centuries:
Pacific and Pacific Rim History since the Sixteenth Century (New York: Routledge,
1999), xxxiii.
4. Ibid., 2.
5. For several recent works see, for instance, selected essays in Ma. Dolores Eli-
zalde, Josep Fradera, and Luis Alonso, eds., Imperios y naciones en el Pacı́fico: La
formación de una colonia, Filipinas, 2 vols. (Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaci-
ones Cientı́ficas, 2001), 1:181–299; Edgardo J. Angara, José Ma. A. Cariño, Sonia
Pinto Ner, eds., El Galeón de Manila: Cruzando el Atlántico (Manila: Read Founda-
tion, 2014).
6. Lourdes Diaz-Trechuelo, “The role of the Chinese in the Philippine Domes-
tic Economy (1570–1770),” in Alfonso Felix Jr., ed., The Chinese in the Philippines,
vol. 1, 1570–1770 (Manila: Solidaridad, 1966), 175–210. On the work of art histo-
rians, see, for instance, Marjorie Trusted, “Survivors of a Shipwreck: Ivories from a
Manila Galleon of 1601,” Hispanic Research Journal 14, no. 5 (2013): 446–62;
Regalado Trota Jose, Images of Faith: Religious Ivory Carvings from the Philippines
(Pasadena: Pacific Asia Museum, 1990); Regalado Trota Jose and Ramon N. Vil-
legas, Power Faith Image: Philippine Art in Ivory from the 16th to the 19th
Century (Makati: Ayala Foundation, 2004); Margareta Mercedes and Estella Mar-
cos, Ivories from the Far Eastern Provinces of Spain and Portugal (Monterrey: Espejo
de Obsidiana Ediciones, 1997); Gauvin Alexander Bailey, “Translation and Meta-
morphosis in the Catholic Ivories of China, Japan, and the Philippines, 1561–
1800,” in Gauvin Alexander Bailey, Michel Massing, and Nuno Vassallo e Silva,
eds., Ivories of the Portuguese Empire (Lisbon: Scribe, 2013); Cristina Cruz-
Gonzalez, “Landscapes of Conversion: Franciscan Politics and Sacred Objects in
Late Colonial Mexico” (Ph.D. diss., University of Chicago, 2009), esp. 213; Donna
Pierce and Ronald Otsuka, eds., Asia & Spanish America: Trans-Pacific Artistic and
Cultural Exchange, 1500–1850 (Denver: Denver Art Museum, 2009).
religious art played a significant and far-reaching role in global trade, mak-
ing money, and religious conversion.
Was Manila any different from other early modern port cities in the
Atlantic and Asian worlds? Philip D. Curtin, along with other contributors
to the volume Atlantic Port Cities, identified certain elemental features that
defined port cities, which could readily be applied to Manila. For Curtin,
“hierarchies of multifunctionality” determined how cities networked in
accordance with political and economic relations of dominance and depen-
dence. Singapore, for instance, was under the command of the colonial
office in London and had government officials in the straits settlements.
Similarly, Manila was administratively under Mexico and deferred to
Madrid.
Referring to British colonial port towns, Jacob Price observed an “interre-
latedness of economic function, occupational structure, and long-term
growth.” For Price, whether they were the great port towns of Europe or
the many American and Atlantic ports between Montreal and Buenos
Aires, port towns functioned not only in terms of attracting goods for their
own consumption but also, importantly, for “storage, exchange, and trans-
shipment,” in the process linking the “economies of riverine and ocean
transport.”7 Frank Broeze’s exploration of Asian port cities likewise empha-
sized a geographic area where “goods and/or passengers are physically trans-
ferred between two modes of transport, of which at least one is maritime.”
The land-sea exchange is here the fundamental key to the port city’s essen-
tial character. “This process,” writes the geographer Rhoads Murphy, “has
been and remains a major source of livelihood, and a major force for culture
mixing or cosmopolitanisation.”8
Historians studying port cities in Asia have, at best, glossed over the life
of Manila’s constituent parts or, at worst, tended to exclude or sideline
Manila altogether. Yet their findings would find resonance in apprehending
7. Philip D. Curtin, “Port Cities in the Atlantic World,” and Jacob M. Price,
“Summation: The American Panorama of Atlantic Port Cities,” both in Peggy K.
Liss and Franklin W. Knight, eds., Atlantic Port Cities: Economy, Culture, and Society
in the Atlantic World, 1650–1850 (Knoxville: University of Tennessee Press, 1991)
xi–xvii and 262–77, respectively.
8. Frank Broeze, ed., Brides of the Sea: Port Cities of Asia from the 16th–20th
Centuries (Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1989), 11, and Rhoads Murphy,
“On the Evolution of the Port City,” ibid., 225. See also, Gerrit Knaap and Heather
Sutherland, Monsoon Traders: Ships, Skippers, and Commodities in Eighteenth-
Century Makassar (Leiden: KITLV Press, 2004).
9. For instance, Manila does not figure at all in the recent volume by Haneda
Masashi, ed., Asian Port Cities, 1600–1800 (Singapore: NUS Press, 2009), or in
Broeze, Brides of the Sea.
10. Christian J. Koot, e-mail to the author, November 7, 2015.
11. Antonio de Morga, Sucesos de las Islas Filipinas (1605), trans. J. S. Cummins
(Cambridge, U.K.: Hakluyt Society, 1971), 280–84.
12. Ibid., 47.
13. James C. Boyajian, Portuguese Trade in Asia under the Habsburgs, 1580–1640
(Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1993), 30.
maritime trade route from India to Manila, bringing with them Iranian
and Indian silk varieties, Bengali textiles, Chinese goods from Malacca and
Canton, and cinnamon from Ceylon to exchange for silver.14 Armenian
traders played a role in the highly profitable and illicit so-called country
trade, in which Dutch, English, and French entrepreneurs covertly partici-
pated. Spanish prohibitions on other Europeans trading in Manila were put
in place from the outset; they were intended to protect the Spanish com-
mercial monopoly with Asia from their more powerful European rivals. But
these rules were circumvented in various ways. Spanish officials were easily
bribed to turn a blind eye. English- and Dutch-owned ships sailed under
assumed Asian flags (the Armenian colors was favored, for instance, as they
were honored in Spanish Philippines and Portuguese ports in the Indian
Ocean) and were skippered by Portuguese or Armenian captains who acted
as go-betweens, dummies, or front men in possession of passes obtained
from Makassar or Siam. These ships arrived in Manila loaded with English-,
Dutch-, and French-owned commodities.15 They often took circuitous
routes, departing from Madras, Bengal, Coromandel, and Malacca. Behind
these operations were English and Dutch merchants, individual entrepre-
neurs who might be either rivals or collaborators, and who sometimes were
connected with the East India Company or the Dutch East India Company
(VOC).16 The ships carried cotton piece goods, chintz, diamonds and
pearls, spices and black pepper, Dutch iron and lead to exchange for silver
specie.17
Over three months in the year, from March to June, Manila’s inhabitants
and merchants engaged in feverish commercial activity. Unloading the
cargo was an uproarious, jostling, greed-fueled, haggling affair. “Ah, woe to
you, Manila! When will you ever set your affairs in order! Ay, false deceiv-
ers, schemers, fabricators of bribes, outbidders by the ton!” despaired one
14. Sebouh David Aslanian, From the Indian Ocean to the Mediterranean: The
Global Trade Networks of Armenian Merchants from New Julfa (Berkeley: University
of California Press, 2011), 58–65.
15. Ibid.
16. Jan Christiaan Nierstrasz, “In the Shadow of the Company: The VOC
(Dutch East India Company) and Its Servants in the Period of Its Decline (1740–
1796)” (Ph.D. diss., Leiden University, 2008), 135–39.
17. On covert English trading with Spanish Manila, see Serafin D. Quiason,
English “Country Trade” with the Philippines, 1644–1765 (Quezon City: University
of the Philippines Press, 1966); on illicit Dutch trading, see Ruurdje Laarhoven and
Elizabeth Pino Wittermans, “From Blockade to Trade: Early Dutch Relations with
Manila, 1600–1750,” Philippine Studies 33, no. 4 (1985): 485–504.
Filipino caught up in the mêlée.18 The trade required little effort and mini-
mal business acumen, while the profits that could be reaped were, as Morga
put it, “quite simply splendid.”19 Morga also calculated that what flowed
into the city’s Royal Exchequer was not unsubstantial. Dues of three percent
were levied on merchandise from China, and dues of two percent that were
payable by Spaniards for the export of goods to Acapulco brought in around
150,000 pesos to the Philippine treasury annually. In addition, a ten percent
tax on goods arriving in Acapulco was paid over to Manila in the form of a
subsidy.20
By June and July, Japanese ships would set off with the southwest winds
on their return journey loaded with the goods they had exchanged: Chinese
silks, deer hides, gold, honey, wax, civets, palm liquor and Spanish wine,
mirrors, and jars for tea. The Portuguese ships departed with the northeast
monsoon winds in January, taking with them rice, gold, and wines. A few
ships from Siam and Cambodia made turnaround visits in the months of
April, May, and June, arriving and departing in the interlude between the
northeasterlies and the southwesterlies. Thus, by the end of June, the great
Manila galleon had been loaded with goods and was ready to sail for Aca-
pulco with the first southwest winds.
C O S MO P O L I TA N MA N IL A
Unsurprisingly, the galleon trade irresistibly drew settlers and transient mer-
chants alike to the colonial capital. From a population as small as 2,000 in
1571, the city’s population grew by 1620 to 41,400, of whom 2,400 were
Spaniards, 3,000 Japanese, 20,000 Filipinos and 16,000 Chinese.21 Natives
and other Asians were compelled to reside in extramural communities. Fili-
pinos clustered along the Pasig River and the shore of Manila Bay in sub-
urbs called arrabales. Working as market gardeners, domestic servants, and
18. William Henry Scott, Looking for the Prehispanic Filipino (Quezon City: New
Day, 1992), 67.
19. Morga, Sucesos, 304.
20. Ibid., 313.
21. Robert R. Reed, Colonial Manila: The Context of Hispanic Urbanism and
Process of Morphogenesis (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1978), 33. Other
scholars have given a higher number for the Chinese. Edgar Wickberg claims there
were 20,000 to 30,000 Chinese living in Manila at the end of the sixteenth century.
See Edgar Wickberg, “Anti-Sinicism and Chinese Identity Options in the Philip-
pines,” in Daniel Chirot and Anthony Reid, eds., Essential Outsiders: Chinese and
Jews in the Modern Transformation of Southeast Asia and Central Europe (Seattle:
University of Washington Press, 1997), 155.
22. James K. Irikura, “Trade and Diplomacy between the Philippines and Japan,
1585–1623” (Ph.D. diss., Yale University, 1958), 153.
23. On the Chinese in early modern Manila, see Felix , The Chinese in the Philip-
pines; Edgar Wickberg, The Chinese in Philippine Life, 1850–1898 (New Haven:
Yale University Press, 1965); Eugenio Menegon, Ancestors, Virgins, and Friars:
Christianity as a Local Religion in Late Imperial China (Cambridge: Harvard Univer-
sity Asia Center for the Harvard-Yenching Institute, 2009); Timothy Brook, Ver-
meer’s Hat: The Seventeenth Century and the Dawn of the Global World (New York:
Bloomsbury, 2008); Charles C. Mann, 1493: Uncovering the New World Columbus
Created (New York: Knopf, 2011).
quarreling with the Chinese every day, and because they did not give them
their goods for what they wanted, they would threaten them with violence,
and kick and slap them and grab them by the neck, and call them queers,
cuckolds, thieves, traitors, dogs, Moros . . . and us they called carabaos.”24
The Chinese came to be regarded as a threat to Spanish sovereignty and
a barbarous people of low morals with sodomitic predilections.25 Forced to
bear onerous taxes that were collected with cruelty and extortion, the Chi-
nese, on the other hand, labored under an atmosphere of oppression. A
string of Chinese-led insurrections gave vent to their grievances and dissat-
isfaction but were harshly suppressed and achieved little.
The lethal mixture of mutual distrust, fear, prejudice, and paranoia was
felt on both sides but culminated in mass expulsions and massacres of the
Chinese in 1603, 1639, 1662, 1686, and 1762. The massacre in 1603
claimed up to 25,000 Chinese lives and was enthusiastically aided and abet-
ted by disgruntled Filipinos who felt their livelihoods undermined. A severe
shortage of Chinese artisans and retailers predictably resulted, depriving
the city of much-needed services. “Since there were no sangleyes,” Morga
lamented, “there was nothing to eat and no shoes to wear.”26 Yet the Chi-
nese continued to arrive undeterred, and after each massacre their numbers
rebounded. Between 22,000 and 24,000 Chinese perished in the 1639 mas-
sacre. Ten years later their number had bounced back to 15,000 in Manila.
Another identifiable demographic trend was the increase in Sino-Filipino
births. By the 1620s it was estimated there were over 1,000 Chinese mesti-
zos in the colonial metropolis, their Filipino mothers raising them to be
good Catholics while their Chinese fathers taught their mixed-blood sons
to be astute merchants.27
In addition to the settlers, Manila’s population swelled during the trading
season. Transient peddlers, hucksters and hawkers, traders and merchants,
crewmen and seamen converged on the Hispanic colonial emporium in
droves. Observers noted men “from all kingdoms and nations,” listing,
32. Linda Newson, Conquest and Pestilence in the Early Spanish Philippines
(Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press, 2009), 128.
33. Fernando N. Zialcita and Martin I. Tinio Jr., Philippine Ancestral Houses
(1810–1930) (Quezon City: GCF Books, 1980), 28.
34. Newson, Conquest and Pestilence, 127.
35. Pedro Chirino, History of the Philippine Province of the Society of Jesus (1602),
trans. José S. Arcilla, 2 vols. (Quezon City: Ateneo de Manila University Press,
2009–10), 1:264.
36. Ibid., 2:178.
37. Robert K. Reed, “The Colonial Origins of Manila and Batavia: Desultory
Note on Nascent Metropolitan Primacy and Urban Systems in Southeast Asia,”
Asian Studies 5, no. 2 (1967): 557.
38. Chirino, History, 2:251.
Chirino’s disdainful opinion. For sojourner and resident alike, the city
evoked glamour, the promise of riches and prestige, a place where life-
changing fortunes could be made. People’s keen sense of awareness of that
idea found expression in ostentatious display. Being shown off was not only
the newly acquired wealth, but also the confident knowledge of living in
the greatest emporium in all Asia: “The streets, squares and churches, are
ordinarily filled with people of all classes, especially with Spaniards, all of
them, men and women alike, carefully dressed and adorned in silks. They
wear many ornaments and all sorts of fine clothes, because of the ease with
which these are obtained: so that this is one of the settlements most highly
praised by all strangers who visit here from all over the world.”39
HOW T O S PEND IT
submerge their “whole bodies in rivers and streams without reflecting that
it could at any time be harmful to them.” Women of all classes took particu-
lar pride in their lustrous tresses. They washed their hair using the boiled
bark of a vine called gogo (Entada phaseoloides), which made it gleam. Fra-
grant herbs, aromatic flowers, and sesame oil scented the hair of most
women, and it is probable that the perfumes and oils included the endemic
ylang-ylang (Canangium odoratum), whose blossoms exuded a powerfully
sweet scent and which women were fond of tucking into their hair. Affluent
women anointed their heads with animal-derived scents—musk, ambergris,
and civet.42
Aromatic tree resins joined the arsenal of perfumes already in use. There
was so-called true Manila Elemi that yielded a distinct spicy, herbal fra-
grance. Derived from the tree Canarium luzonicum, Manila Elemi is a
highly aromatic honeylike resin with a smell suggestive of fennel and
mace.43 Camphor and benzoin had been staples in the Southeast Asia–Sino
trade since at least the Sui Dynasty (589–618 c.e.). In the mid-thirteenth
century the Chinese particularly sought out Barus camphor from Sumatra,
Patani, and Ligor for its pungency and potent medicinal qualities, whereas
benzoin from Siam (Styrax tonkinensis), Malacca, and Sumatra was consid-
ered to have the most powerful scent.44 The olfactory choices enlarged with
the galleon trade. Fine camphor arrived from Borneo, and Cambodian ships
brought benzoin of the Styrax tonkinensis variety. But an even more luxuri-
ous and exotic perfume was introduced. Still more indulgently, well-to-do
women had begun to moisten and perfume their hair with oils mixed with
a brand-new substance—mastic.45 Sometimes known as Arabic gum, mastic
is an aromatic resin derived from the small Mediterranean evergreen tree
Pistacia lentiscus. Prized in Asia Minor since ancient times, mastic was
worth its weight in gold. Ancient Egyptians used mastic in embalming;
Turks, Greeks, Moroccans, and Lebanese used it as frankincense and pro-
duced incense from it; soaps and cosmetics were scented with mastic; it
perfumed sweetmeats and desserts; and pieces of it were chewed for both
its scent and its antibacterial properties.46 It smells much like cedar, pine,
and olibanum—woody and spicy with a hint of citrus; mastic-perfumed hair
must have surely been the height of refined grooming.
As new scents subtly changed the smell of bodies, sartorial innovations
began to insinuate themselves. Women wound ribbons into their hair knots;
pleated skirts started to be worn, the edges of their saya, or skirt, and tapis,
or overskirt, embroidered and trimmed with gold and silk. Women’s stock-
ings appeared, as did mantillas, lavishly embroidered shawls or wraps that
came to be known as mantones de Manila or pañuelos Filipinos de tapar. “On
going out,” Chirino observed, “they cover themselves with cotton and or
taffeta shawls, their entire dress perfumed and fragrant.” Japanese-inspired,
Chinese-made hand-held fans—los abanicos chinos–of silk, paper, and lac-
quer, with intricately carved folding blades of bone, ivory, and mother-of-
pearl, were exported to Acapulco along with so many other knickknacks,
but they appealed to the city’s women, who found them indispensable not
only on warm days but in conversation, when they were used to make
emphatic gestures.47
Tagalog men folded and tucked striped cotton cloths around their legs
and waists to form a garment that was an attempt at breeches. Another
wide cloth would be wound around the body and—a first—fastened with
solid gold buttons, “each one bigger than a dove’s egg.” Pockets appeared: a
small one to keep “pieces of gold or silver to pay for what they had bought,”
and a larger pocket sewn on a belt below the chest, which also carried a
dagger; some were made of gold and had an ivory hilt and a scabbard of
carabao horn. The ensemble was completed with three more remarkable
additions: a hat, stylish stockings, and shoes.48
The city presented a number of opportunities when its well-heeled popu-
lation could show off publicly: there were the daily rituals—the late after-
noon paseo and the church Mass; beatifications and canonizations, seasonal
and votive festivities, and the regular feasts that marked the liturgical calen-
dar, which ranged from Christmas and Holy Week to the feast days of the
46. A. F. Hill, Economic Botany: A Textbook of Useful Plants and Plant Products,
2nd ed. (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1952); Maud Grieve, A Modern Herbal, 3rd ed.
(Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1980); Christos Belles, Mastiha Island (Chios: Aegeas,
2007). I thank William G. Clarence-Smith for these references.
47. Blas Sierra de la Calle, Vientos de Acapulco: Relaciones entre America y Oriente
(Valladolid: Museo Oriental de Valladolid, 1991), 125; Chirino, History, 1:264–68.
48. Chirino, History, 1:267.
city’s patron saints, those that protected against disasters and those associ-
ated with Spanish military and naval victories.49 The best occasions, how-
ever, were the sumptuous fiestas that celebrated the departure of the
galleons to Acapulco, when images of the Blessed Virgin Mary and saints
were petitioned to ensure the success of the voyage. A novena, a daily Mass
held for nine consecutive days, honored the patron saint Nuestra Señora de
Guı́a, whose image resided in the extramural parish church of Ermita. The
novena culminated in a procession in which the saint was carried from her
chapel to the cathedral. In 1642 a city ordinance was passed stipulating that
a procession be held to celebrate the completed construction of every new
galleon ship.50 The image of Nuestra Señora de Antipolo, renamed Nuestra
Señora de la Paz y del Buen Viaje, was the tutelary patroness of the Manila
galleons.
Brought by Governor Tabora from Acapulco in 1626 on the galleon ship
El Almirante, the small statue carved from dark wood undertook eight gal-
leon crossings from 1641 to 1746.51 It was believed that her presence safe-
guarded the ship and her crew from the perilous journey and ensured their
return. Each safe return was a joyous occasion that began with a procession
on the Pasig River in her honor. Flags, banners, and cheering crowds lined
the shores. She would be carried back to her shrine in Antipolo, southeast
of Manila, at the foothills of the Sierra Madre. Lasting two days, the cele-
brations included artillery salvos, singing, fireworks, music, litanies, and
Masses to mark her triumphant return.52
Fiestas to commemorate the feast days of saints and the Virgin were
numerous and expensive.53 Available data suggest that the city was truly
blessed—at least fourteen saints manifested themselves in some form or
other in the city. The date of the fiesta would be set in conjunction with
the saint’s first apariciòn. The sums spent were considerable. The Spanish
scholar Inmaculada Alva Rodrı́guez has shown that the expenses for each
fiesta during the period from 1592 to 1613 ranged from a few hundred
49. For the full calendar of celebrations, see Nick Joaquı́n, Almanac for Manileños
(Manila: Mr & Ms Publications, 1979).
50. Inmaculada Alva Rodrı́guez, Vida municipal en Manila, Siglos XVI–XVII
(Córdoba: University of Córdoba, 1997), 106.
51. Horacio de la Costa, S.J., The Jesuits in the Philippines (Cambridge: Harvard
University Press, 1961), 369.
52. D. R. M. Irving, Colonial Counterpoint: Music in Early Modern Manila
(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010), 220.
53. Reinhard Wendt, Fiesta Filipina: Koloniale Kultur zwischen Imperialismus
und neuer Identität (Freiburg im Breisgau: Rombach, 1997).
pesos to several thousand. The feast day of San Andrés, the patron saint
of Manila, was one of the most lavish celebrations.54 The spectacle was
amazing: horses were richly dressed, and people from neighboring towns
came wearing their most excellent finery, competing with one another.
The celebrations ran for two days and went on late into the night; a splen-
did banquet was prepared, possibly cooked by the Chinese, and there was
music and dancing.55 Priests spared no expense in ensuring their churches
put on grand musical performances. The archbishop in charge of Nuestra
Señora de Guı́a spent five hundred pesos on a new bell and the choir. The
richly ornamented capilla real, or royal chapel, possessed an organ and a
choir of skilled singers; Augustinian parishes around Manila had ensem-
bles comprising harps, various stringed instruments, organs, and singers.56
The performances were lively and spirited. Writing in the mid-eighteenth
motifs, embossed, chased, and riveted, and a silver stomacher with almost
two hundred rock crystals of different sizes and cuts.60
The galleon trade made financing such religious flamboyance possible.
Although considered unseemly among the more high-minded members of
the clergy and officially frowned upon, clerical participation in galleon com-
merce was as enthusiastic as those of other traders. Since the establishment
of the galleon trade, religious and secular priests enjoyed the same advan-
tages and privileges as other Spanish traders. The Ecclesiastical Cabildo of
Manila, composed of priests, was a trading bloc ostensibly formed to aug-
ment clerical incomes, but, in practice, there seems to be no way of telling
whether it was real financial need or the amassing capital in the name of
profit that lay behind clerical motivations.61 The economic interests of the
60. Pedro G. Galende, OSA, and Clifford T. Chua, The Gold and Silver Collec-
tion, San Agustin Museum, Intramuros, Manila (Manila: National Commission for
Culture and the Arts, 2003), 92–93.
61. Nicolas Cushner, “Merchants and Missionaries: A Theologian’s View of
Clerical Involvement in the Galleon Trade,” Hispanic American Historical Review 47
(1967): 360–69; Barbara Andaya, “Between Empires and Emporia: The Economics
Figure 3. Map of the Philippine Islands by Pedro Murillo Velarde, 1734. Cour-
tesy of the Biblioteca Nacional de España, Madrid.
Clerics did not shy from hoarding earthly riches and had an eye for pre-
cious decorations, alajas, and sacred vessels, vasos sagrados. They spent
extravagantly. Religious purchases for San Agustı́n church in the early
seventeenth century were solid gold chalices from Mexico studded with
diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and amethysts, gold cruet sets and reliquaries
heavily embellished with precious jewels, also from Mexico, and gold bells
from China.62 The interior of the vaulted church, built in 1604, boasted an
ornate choir stall, gilded retables, and a magnificently carved and embel-
lished pulpit with an inverted pineapple. Used as a decorative motif, did the
pineapple, a New World import, reformulate the pinecone, a well-known
Euro-Christian symbol for eternal life, for local use?63
Religious imagery was venerated, and precious New World church trea-
sures doubtlessly dazzled, but native peoples set their sights on acquiring a
64. William Henry Scott, Prehispanic Source Materials for the Study of Philippine
History (Quezon City: New Day, 1984); and Scott, Looking for the Prehispanic
Filipino.
65. Roxanna M. Brown, ed., Guangdong Ceramics from Butuan and Other Philip-
pine Sites (Manila: Oriental Ceramic Society of the Philippines, 1989), 79.
66. Elisabeth A. Bacus, “The Archaeology of the Philippine Archipelago,” in
Ian Glover and Peter Bellwood, eds., Southeast Asia: From Prehistory to History (New
York: RoutledgeCurzon, 2004), 267. On the Vietnamese trade, see Kerry Nguyen
Long, “Vietnamese Ceramic Trade to the Philippines in the Seventeenth Century,”
Journal of Southeast Asian Studies 30, no. 1 (1999): 1–21.
67. These are on permanent display at the National Museum, the Philippines,
visited in August 2015. Martaban (also Martabani, Martabana, Montaban, Mata-
vann) identifies massive, lead-glazed, narrow-based water or storage jars that were
produced in Burma by the eleventh century and commonly traded between the
fourteenth and nineteenth centuries, from the Gulf of Martaban, near Moulmein
in lower Burma. Pamela Gutman, “The Martaban Trade: An Examination of the
Literature from the Seventh Century until the Eighteenth Century,” Asian Per-
Figure 5. Sunken cargo of earthenware jars recovered from the galleon San
Diego, commanded by Antonio de Morga in 1600, on display at the National
Museum, Manila. Photo by the author.
spectives 40, no. 1 (2011): 108–18; Don Thein, “Ceramic Production in Myanmar
—Further Evidence on Old Traditions,” in Traditions in Current Perspective: Pro-
ceedings of the Conference on Myanmar and Southeast Asian Studies, November 15–17,
1995, Yangon (Yangon: Universities Historical Research Center, 1996). Kendi, a
Malay word from the Sanskrit kunda, is a spouted vessel for drinking and pouring
that has been used in rituals and daily life in Southeast Asia since ancient times. In
the seventeenth and nineteenth centuries, glazed kendi produced in China, Japan,
Thailand, and Vietnam was an important item of trade for the Southeast Asian
market. Roxanne M. Brown, The Ceramics of Southeast Asia: Their Dating and Iden-
tification (Singapore: Oxford University Press, 1988), and http://rooneyarchive.net/
articles/kendi/kendi_album/kendi.htm; accessed May 8, 2017.
68. Takenori Nogami, “On Hizen Porcelain and the Manila-Acapulco Galleon
Trade,” Indo-Pacific Pre-History Association Bulletin 26 (2006): 124–30, http://jour
nals.lib.washington.edu/index.php/BIPPA/article/viewFile/12001/10626; accessed
August 25, 2015.
It is well known how the Columbian Exchange (the term coined by Alfred
Crosby to describe the global movement of plants and animals after 1492)
brought about profound environmental changes.73 Equally, agriculture and
everyday diets were immeasurably enriched by the migration of crops and
animals: wheat, cattle, and horses traveled from the Old World to the New,
while New World potatoes, tomatoes, and paprika went to Europe, maize
and cassava to Africa, and maize, sweet potatoes, and tomatoes to Asia. In
maritime Southeast Asia, maize and sweet potatoes spread rapidly and
widely to become prominent staples, even supplanting, in certain areas espe-
cially vulnerable to unseasonable weather, the traditional staples of indige-
nous millet and roots and tubers, specifically aroids and yams, the most
hold among the populace. Added to the betel quid and chewed, rolled into
cigars and smoked, or inhaled as powdered snuff, tobacco, and the nicotine
it contained, contributed a new sensory dimension to the consumption of
addictive substances and established social rituals. Cultivated from the mid-
seventeenth century, cacao was a favorite of the Spanish Catholic clergy,
who introduced and popularized its consumption as a hot beverage among
all classes of Philippine society.79
Hispanic food came to be associated with wealthy, urbanized, lifestyles—
luxurious, classy, and expensive food of the rich. The use of certain ingredi-
ents that were heavy on the stomach and rich in taste, such as beef and
cured pork, contrasted sharply with the native fare of fish and braised vege-
tables and demanded new cooking methods—sautéing (called guisando
locally) and frying in oils, prito. Sourness, the pronounced and defining
flavor of lowland, Christianized Filipino cuisine, came to be enhanced when
combined with the new additions of garlic, onions, and chili peppers.80 Chi-
nese chronicles from the Fujian and Zhejiang provinces indicate that chili
became known to the Chinese in about 1671, in all probability through
trade with the Philippines, where five different species were collectively
known by the vernacular term buyobuyo.81 In the Visayas, in central Philip-
pines, betel chew is also known by the same term, which perhaps suggests
that chili was not only used for culinary purposes, but may also have been
incorporated in the betel quid or consumed in the same way, as a stimulant.
Filipinos developed a sweet tooth, a taste for sweet, sugary, buttery, egg-
based foods, particularly in the form of desserts and pastries—a liking that
has been attributed to the Hispanic culinary legacy. In contrast to native
rice-based puddings, or panghimagas, “our repertoire of sweetness,” write
Doreen Fernandez and Edilberto Alegre, “seem[s] to have come from the
Spanish kitchen and the elite lifestyle: flan de leche . . . mamones con man-
tequillado . . . borrachuelos . . . buñuelos o suspiros de monja.”82 The terms
C O N C L U SI O N
The first of the Manila galleons sailed for Acapulco in 1572, and the last in
1815.86 Luxuries and precious merchandise from the East—cargoes of
spices, and silks and porcelain from China, demanded by New Spain and
Europe, were traded in New Spain in exchange for American silver desired
by China. Neither demand outweighed the other. The significance of this
demand-and-supply commerce, and the route taken to facilitate it, was far-
reaching. Through the direct exchange of goods, Asia and the Americas
came into contact with one another for the first time. But, arguably, the
trans-Pacific trade also influenced the histories of Europe, Africa, and the
Levant—the commercial corridor linking Asia.
On a quotidian level, the effect of the galleon trade on Manila was just as
profoundly transformative. During its Golden Age, Manila was a teeming
cosmopolitan city, where many languages could be heard and where people
from all walks of life converged to try their luck at getting rich. The city
was elegant and stately, but also conflict-ridden, corrupt, dirty, and disease-
filled. It was a city of dreams, where no expense was spared on fiestas and
feasts. Filled with music, pomp, and revelry, these occasions celebrated the
safe arrival of ships and were divinely blessed by the resplendent earthly
images of the Virgin and the Christ Child.
The influx of worldly goods took consumption habits to new heights.
Prosperous inhabitants delighted in ostentatious displays of wealth and
adored the luxurious and sensuous. Bodies were clothed in fine, costly
fabrics—silks, damasks, taffeta—new imports that brought about sartorial
innovations: new folds and pockets, embellishments and trimmings, and
accessories, from hats and fans to stockings and shawls. New fragrances
introduced olfactory experiences and an air of worldly glamour. With the
introduction of New World plant crops and animals, culinary as well as
geographic landscapes were irrevocably altered. A taste for rich and sweet
foods was engendered. Plant motifs found their way to church decoration,
thereby bringing about new visual aesthetics that reached beyond Manila.
Communities far removed from the urban milieu of the galleon trade
responded to a manifold increase in the range and variety of Chinese trade
ceramics and porcelains, age-old objects of desire about which new stories
could be spun.
Peter Burke has pondered why and how there was an apparent rise of a
“more conspicuous kind of consumption” in different parts of the world; he
cites Europe and Asia, at much the same time, that is, between the late
sixteenth and late eighteenth centuries. Though focused mainly on Europe
and the Renaissance and taking a different tack, Lisa Jardine found how
mercantile rivalries and collaborative commercial enterprises expanded hori-
zons, which in turn fostered acquisitiveness and an appreciation of finery
and luxuries, but also in the process enacted an intellectual and cultural sea
change.87
Could Manila’s Golden Age of conspicuous consumption claim an intel-
lectual and creative flowering that profoundly defined an era and beyond?
In terms of scale, and if a Eurocentric compass were to be our guide, the
answer would have to be a rather undramatic No. But similar ingredients
were present. The period was not devoid of creative energy, enthusiasm,
and swashbuckling bravura, whose effects were felt throughout the archipel-
ago. The Manila galleon trade offered a quick route to riches but could
plunge a man into penury just as fast. It fueled conspicuous consumption
and encouraged venality, vanity, and acquisitiveness on a massive scale. But
flaunting it had other consequences. Cultures of consumption were formu-
lated and reshaped in and beyond the port city. As hinterland communities
reprocessed and disseminated goods, they too became economic actors as
well as active consumers. Objects and their materiality took on a multiplicity
of meanings and cultural uses for the different peoples that received, con-
sumed, and cherished imported goods. Thus, for a brief period, the port
city of Manila was one of the world’s most spectacular emporia with cosmo-
politan sensibilities and a genuinely global outlook that reached out to a
truly diverse consumer market.
87. Burke, “Res et Verba”; Lisa Jardine, Worldly Goods: A New History of the
Renaissance (London: Macmillan, 1993).