Schottenhammer EAMH 11.indd Abs11 21.09.2011 08:48:23 East Asian Economic and Socio-cultural Studies ᵅѲ㍧△㟛⼒᳗᭛࣪䂪শ ) Edited by Angela Schottenhammer (㭁။ East Asian Maritime History 11 2011 Harrassowitz Verlag . Wiesbaden Schottenhammer EAMH 11.indd Abs12 21.09.2011 08:48:46 Taiwan – A Bridge Between the East and South China Seas Edited by Angela Schottenhammer 2011 Harrassowitz Verlag . Wiesbaden Schottenhammer EAMH 11.indd Abs13 21.09.2011 08:48:46 Publication of this book was supported by a grant of the Volkswagenstiftung. Cover Illustration: Coastal map of Taiwan with the Dutch fort “Zeelandia” (hongmaozhen 紅毛鎮). (Source: Qianlong Taiwan dili quantu 乾隆臺灣地理全圖, courtesy of Li Xiaocong 李孝聰). Bibliografische Information der Deutschen Nationalbibliothek Die Deutsche Nationalbibliothek verzeichnet diese Publikation in der Deutschen Nationalbibliografie; detaillierte bibliografische Daten sind im Internet über http://dnb.d-nb.de abrufbar. Bibliographic information published by the Deutsche Nationalbibliothek The Deutsche Nationalbibliothek lists this publication in the Deutsche Nationalbibliografie; detailed bibliographic data are available in the internet at http://dnb.d-nb.de. For further information about our publishing program consult our website http://www.harrassowitz-verlag.de © Otto Harrassowitz GmbH & Co. KG, Wiesbaden 2011 This work, including all of its parts, is protected by copyright. Any use beyond the limits of copyright law without the permission of the publisher is forbidden and subject to penalty. This applies particularly to reproductions, translations, microfilms and storage and processing in electronic systems. Printed on permanent/durable paper. Printing and binding: Memminger MedienCentrum AG Printed in Germany ISSN 1860-1812 ISBN 978-3-447-06173-5 Schottenhammer EAMH 11.indd Abs14 21.09.2011 08:48:46 CONTENTS List of Illustrations................................................................................................. VII Acknowledgements and Technical Remarks ........................................................ IX ANGELA SCHOTTENHAMMER Introduction and Historical Context .................................................................... 1 CHANG PIN-TSUN The Emergence of Taiwan as an International Trading Rendezvous in the Sixteenth Century ........................................................................................ 9 RODERICH PTAK Zwischen zwei „Mittelmeeren“: Taiwan als Barriere und Brücke ............................................................................ 25 RUI MANUEL LOREIRO Formosa But Unattractive: Portuguese Impressions of Taiwan (Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries) ..... 45 MANEL OLLÉ Castilians in the North of Taiwan: Frontier Interactions at Isla Hermosa ..................................................................... 57 MATHIEU TORCK Travelling the Strait: The Physical Experience Naval and Military Diets in Early Modern Taiwan and East Asia...................... 75 CHU TE-LAN ᵧᗭ㱣 䘇ԙਦ⚙ऻつ㥬୼ (Powchong Tea Merchants) Ⲻ㠾䎭㠽୼ᾣ㌴㍑δ1895–1945ε..................................................................... 95 CHRISTIAN SOFFEL Taiwan in Early Qing Chinese Poetry .................................................................. 117 LIST OF MAPS AND ILLUSTRATIONS CHU TE-LAN, POWCHONG TEA MERCHANTS Figure 1, p. 112: Name registry of the Yonghe ≮㼋 Guild (1909). Source: ᱄⋱ 42 ᒪ (1909) Taibei Lutaibei chashang gonghui dang’an ਦ्ᔩਦ्㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹ⃊Ṿ, courtesy of Xu Xianyao 䁧䌘⪚. Figure 2, p. 113: Letter of protest (1900) of the 18 Powchong tea merchants against the registry of a trade mark by Guo Chongyang 䜣ᱛ〝. Source: Taiwan zongdufu gonwen leibian ਦ⚙㑳⶙ᓒ‫ޢ‬ᮽ五㒸, ㅢ 9202 㲕θɃਦ्㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹˠ䰒ˎ ̀ԬɄθ᱄⋱ 34 ᒪδ1901ε1 ᴾ 1 ᰛ. Figure 3, p. 114: Letter by the Powchong tea merchant Guo Chongyang requesting to register a trademark. Source: Taiwan zongdufu gonwen leibian ਦ⚙㑳⶙ᓒ‫ޢ‬ᮽ五㒸, ㅢ 9202 㲕θɃਦ्㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹˠ䰒ˎ̀ԬɄθ᱄⋱ 34 ᒪδ1901ε1 ᴾ 1 ᰛ. Figure 4, p. 115: Letter by the Yşkichi Habara 䗨୼䃨 (1882– 1969) asking the Taibei Tea Merchants’ Association to act as coordinator in the case of Guo Chongyang. Source: Taiwan zongdufu gonwen leibian ਦ⚙㑳⶙ᓒ‫ޢ‬ᮽ五㒸,Ƀਦ्㥬୼‫ޢ‬ ᴹˠ䰒ˎ̀ԬɄθ᱄⋱ 34 ᒪδ1901ε1 ᴾ 1 ᰛ. Acknowledgements and Technical Remarks The present volume is the eleventh volume of East Asian Maritime History, introducing results of the research project “The East Asian ‘Mediterranean’” that has generously been sponsored by the Volkswagen Foundation from May 2002 to July 2009. The papers included here were originally presented for the second project concluding conference entitled “Taiwan – a Bridge between the East and South China Seas” and held at Munich University on November 5, 2007.1 First of all, I wish to thank the Volkswagen Foundation for their generous sponsorship of both the conference and the publication of this volume. The conference was also supported by the Taipeh Representative Office in Munich. I therefore also want to thank the Taipeh Representative Office, in particular its General Director in 2007, Chu Jian-Song. The present volume is basically written in English but includes one article in Chinese and one in German. Citations and footnotes were standardized to a large measure. However, due to the wishes and suggestions of individual authors, some items were not changed. The Chinese contribution by Chu Te-lan is written in long characters as are the characters included in the English and German contributions. Quotations from websites that use short characters are reproduced in short characters. Chinese transcriptions, as a rule, follow the Pinyin system. Except for the Chinese contribution each paper has its own bibliography. Titles of secondary literature have, as a rule, not been translated. The reign periods of emperors are given in small letters and in italics and are not capitalized. Finally, I wish to thank the Harrassowitz Publishing House for kindly having allowed this to be published also in Chinese. AS (㮣Ⴍ) 1 Two papers, those by Leonard Blussé and by Murray Rubinstein, are not included in this volume. Introduction and Historical Context Angela Schottenhammer The aim of the conference “Taiwan – a Bridge between the East and South China Seas”, held at Munich University on November 5, 2007, was to discuss the historical role of Taiwan as a bridge but also as a barrier for exchange relations between Northeast and Southeast Asia in both vision and reality. After all, Taiwan has played a particular role in the geographical context of the East Asian waters. Of course, only a few aspects of the wide range of Taiwan’s historical exchange relations can be covered here. But we hope to provide at least another small contribution to certain aspects of Taiwan’s history. And we are very happy to eventually complete this volume just in time for the centenary of the Republic of China (ROC, 1912–), which was officially declared by Sun Yatsen’s ᆡ䙮ԏ (or Sun Zhongshan ѣኧ) on January 1 1912. The Peoples Republic of China (PRC), since its establishment in 1949, considers Taiwan to be a part of mainland China, thus of the PRC, but the ROC has continued to exist on Taiwan. With the flight of the Nationalist Party (Guomindang ു ≇唞) under Jiang Kaishek ሽԁ⸩ to Taiwan in 1949, the ROC also moved to Taiwan. Still today, in addition to the Western calendar, a Republican calendar is used that takes 1912, the year of its official declaration, as year 1, 2012 accordingly as year 100. In 1683, after an eventually successful military campaign of Qing naval forces under the leadership of Shi Lang ᯳⨻ (1621–1696), Taiwan officially became part of the Qing Empire. But it is well-known that the Qing Emperor Kangxi ᓭ⟏ (r. 1661–1722) was originally hesitating to incorporate the island into Chinese territory. And the role the Qing rulers assigned to Taiwan is at least revealing. The island was not really considered a part of the mainland but rather an “appendix” of Fujian ⿅ ᔰ (Min 䯟) Province, as a kind of protection belt from dangers that might arrive from the southern seas. As Christian Soffel shows at the end of this volume, in Chinese poetry Taiwan was rather considered “a remote outer island that never has been a part of Chinese territory (zi gu bu ru bantu 㠠ਚу‫ޛ‬⡾ൌ), but has strategic importance to shield Min and Yue ㋫ (modern Fujian and Guangdong) from outside”1 – a frontier in other words. Between 1895 and 1945 Taiwan was a colony of Japan. 1 See his contribution in this volume, pp. 129–130. 2 Angela Schottenhammer Little is known about the early history of Taiwan. Archaeological evidence only provides vague hints. Early Chinese descriptions, too, mostly remain very vague and it is not known with certainty if the expression “Liuqiu ⨿⨹” of which there exist various character variants and which in early texts appears with the adjectives “big” (da ཝ) or “small” (xiao ቅ) refers to Taiwan and the Liuqiu or Ryşkyş Islands or either only Taiwan or only the Ryşkyş Islands. The name of “Taiwan 㠰⚙” seems not to have been used before the 1630s.2 Probably, the island was early on known to the Chinese particularly since we know about sea explorations. But we do not possess any definite date or time period of the first contacts between mainland Chinese and Taiwanese aborigines. Even about the first mention of the island in Chinese courses, there are still controversies among historians. Some are of the opinion that the island Yizhou ཭ᐔ mentioned in the Hou Han shu ᗂ╘ᴮ and the Linhai shuitu zhi 㠞⎭≪ൕᘍ was identical with the Liuqiu Islands and both actually referred to Taiwan. 3 But since Song ᇁ times (960–1279), the term “Liuqiu”, as a rule, referred to the Ryşkyş Islands. This, however, would suggest that early Chinese historians were at least not conscious of the island. On the other hand, taking into consideration that a state like Wu ੩ in Southeast China during the time period of the Three Kingdoms (222280) already possessed a kind of a navy and ocean-going ships and attacked for example an island like Hainan ⎭঍, it would remain at least astonishing that the Chinese knew about islands as far away as Japan but at the same time possessed no geographical knowledge of Taiwan? The Sui Emperor Yangdi ✀ᑓ (r. 605–617) eventually ordered the construction of a fleet and undertook military expeditions to Liuqiu ⍷≸.4 But, once again, the problem remains to which island does this actually refer, the Ryşkyş Islands or Taiwan? Until today scholars have not arrived at a definite conclusion. According to Ts’ao Yung-ho ᴯ≮ૂ the majority of historians considers it to be Taiwan. 5 These problems at least attest to the particular geographical role Taiwan has played in East Asia’s maritime history. Prior to the late sixteenth century, this is certain, the island was generally bypassed by merchants, although it was visited by fishermen, shipwrecked refugees and international outlaws from Song times at the latest.6 In particular the Penghu ◄ ⒌ Island group off the west coast of Taiwan, today a district of Taiwan, seems to have been used as a kind of meeting point by traders, fishermen, and “outlaws”. 2 3 4 5 6 See the contribution by Chang Pin-tsun in this volume, p. 12. See the reference in Yü Ying-shih, Trade and Expansion in Han China. A Study in the Structure of Sino-Barbarian Economic Relations. (Berkeley. Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1967), p. 187, footnote 61. Sui shu 䳁ᴮ (636) by Wei Zheng 内ᗫ (580–643) . (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1973), j. 81, pp. 1822-1823 (Dongyi ᶧ཭) states: ⍷≸ുθቻ⎭ጬҁѣθ⮬ᔰᆿ䜗ᶧθ≪㺂ӊᰛ㙂㠩. Ts’ao Yung-ho ᴯ≮ૂ (Cao Yonghe), Zhongguo haiyangshi lunji ѣു⎭⍁ਨ䄌䳼. (Taibei: Lianjiang chubanshe, 2000), p. 40. Ts’ao Yung-ho, Taiwan zaoqi lishi yanjiu xuji 㠰⚙ᰟᵕ↭ਨ⹊ガ㓂䳼. (Taibei: Lianjing chuban shiye gongsi, 2000), pp. 43–44. Introduction and historical context 3 Penghu apparently appeared for the first time in Song period sources. In his Zhufan zhi 䄮㰟ᘍ Zhao Rugua 䏏⊓䘸 (1170–1231) states: “In the district of Ts’üan-chou [i.e. Quanzhou ⋿ᐔ] there is an island in the sea named P’öng-hu ( ◄ ⒌ ); it belongs to the jurisdiction of Tsin-kiang-hien ( ᱿ ⊕ 㑙)…[The country of Pisheye ∍㡃㙬, by Hirth and Rockhill identified as people of probably Philippine origin living on South Formosa] is so near to this island that smoke on it may be discerned.” 7 A number of Song and Yuan ceramics have been excavated on Penghu8 and it was certainly known to some merchants and fishermen by Song times. Nevertheless, it remains unclear if the large island east of Penghu was perceived as an island distinct from the Ryşkyş Islands. Penghu may perhaps have served as a strategic place to exchange cargoes during the maritime prohibition period. In the eyes of the Ming court, Taiwan seems rather to have represented a hiding place for “pirates”. When the Ming shi explains that Jilongshan 䴔㊖ኧ lies in the north of Penghu and this is why it is called the “Northern Port” (beigang ्⑥)9, this reads as if until Ming times obviously Penghu was still the point of orientation. Exchanged with aborigines were products such as ceramics, textiles, salt, some copper jewellery and the like for deer skins, dried deer meat (Sambar und Muntjak) and antlers. 10 And the island was certainly visited by Fujianese fishermen – evidence for which is also suggested by the later Portuguese designation of the island group, namely “Pescadores”, literally meaning “fishermen”. But Taiwan emerged only relatively late as a bridge, as a trading “rendezvous”, in the East Asian waters. Not before the opening of the port of Haicheng off the Fujian coast (formerly called Yuegang ᴾ⑥) and the subsequent gradual liberation of Chinese private maritime trade in 1567 – the year in which the maritime trade prohibition was lifted – did its history as an international trading “rendezvous” begin. This process of Taiwan’s emergence as an international “meeting point”, the question of why this happened at that time, even before Chinese colonization actually started and what consequences this had for the island, is treated in Chang Pin-tsun’s contribution. 7 8 9 10 Friedrich Hirth and W. W. Rockhill, Chau Ju-Kua. His Work on the Chinese and Arab Trade in the twelfth and thirteenth Centuries, entitled Chu-fan-chï. (St. Petersburg: Printing Office of the Imperial Academy of Sciences, 1911; reprint: Amsterdam: Oriental Press, 1966), p. 165. Chen Xinxiong 䲩‫ؗ‬䳺, Penghu Song Yuan taoci ◄⒌ᇁ‫ݹ‬䲬⬭. (Penghu: Penghuxian wenlihua zhongxin, 1985). Ming shi ᱄ਨ by Zhang Tingyu ᕫᔭ⦿ (1672–1755) et. al. (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1997), j. 323, p. 8376. Cf. for example Thomas Höllmann, “Formosa and the trade in venison and deer skins”, in Roderich Ptak & Dietmar Rothermund (eds.), Emporia, commodities and entrepreneurs in Asian maritime trade, c. 1400–1750. (Stuttgart: Franz Steiner, 1991), pp. 263–90; John Shepherd, Statecraft and Political Economy on the Taiwan Frontier, 1600–1800. (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1993); also Gudula Linck-Kesting, Ein Kapitel chinesischer Grenzgeschichte. Han und Nicht-Han im Taiwan der Qing-Zeit 1683–1895. Stuttgart: Steiner, 1979. Münchener Ostasiatische Studien 22. 4 Angela Schottenhammer Also Roderich Ptak argues that far into the Middle Period Taiwan remained “terra incognita” for the Chinese. He considers maritime space around the island. There existed an Eastern (dong hanglu ᶧ㡠䐥) and a Western sea route (xi hanglu 㾵㡠䐥) but these routes generally bypassed Taiwan. Gradually, however, first due to the commercial activities of Fujian merchants in particular but during the high-tide of the Ming maritime trade prohibition (1371–1567) also by Ryşkyşan “competitors” or intermediaries in the East Asian waters, the role of the Taiwan Strait changed. In the last third of the sixteenth and the early seventeenth century with the abolition of the trade prohibition it was not only Fujian merchants who reappeared. Other, new competitors also appeared on the scene. Thus, Taiwan gradually emerged as a “playball” (p. 32) in international commercial relations. In separate sub-chapters Ptak discusses Taiwan’s role as a commercial link (Bindeglied, p. 33) between internationally acting powers under its rule of the Zheng 䝣 clan, when the island was occupied by Zheng Chenggong’s 䝣ᡆࣕ (1624–1662) forces and subsequently selfadministered for some time, and its integration into the Manchu Qing regime. Consequently, we can observe the process of how Taiwan functioned first as a barrier between two maritime zones that communicated almost exclusively along the Western sea route, before it emerged as a kind of a bridge, maintained primarily by the Fujianese. The Portuguese were the first Europeans who eventually systematically ventured into the East Asian waters. They, too, obviously first bypassed the island, which they originally called “Lequio Peqeno” (Smaller Liuqiu) and then “Formosa” (Beautiful), as they were trading in luxury articles that could not be found on Taiwan. They may have had contact with the island or people there before the 1580s, by accident, for purposes of exploration or something else, but no traces of such visits have been found. But, eventually, as Rui Manuel Loureiro explains in his paper, they considered Taiwan absolutely unattractive – not only due to their established trade in luxury commodities, but also, because – in contrast to the Spanish and the Dutch – they disposed of a secure and more attractive base in South China, Macao, with direct access to the Canton area. Manel Ollé expounds upon a rather neglected aspect of Taiwan’s history – activities of Castilians in the north of Taiwan during the time period between 1626 and 1642, that is, the brief period before Taiwan became Dutch. Information on the Castilian presence on the island is mainly transmitted in letters, memories and other documents from primarily Spanish and Philippine archives. These sources provide an insight into many aspects of daily life of the new settlers on Taiwan (Castilians, Chinese, Dutch) and how they interacted, what they traded in etc. Castilian Taiwan was a colony that depended on the archipelago of the Philippines and through the Philippines was linked up with both New Spain and the Iberian colonies there and with Madrid. We see which commercial relations the Castilians maintained via Manila to Mexico and New Spain, what kind of missionary initiatives in north Taiwan existed and how the Castilians were situated on the island during a period of inter- Introduction and historical context 5 national competition. Eventually, in 1642, a Dutch naval attack with 500 men conquered the Spanish ports in the north of Taiwan. Within only a couple years, the Iberian Oriental Asian scene underwent a radical transformation. In 1639, the Portuguese were expelled from Japan and were forbidden to trade, which was left to the Dutch, Chinese and Koreans. 11 In 1641, the Dutch expelled the Portuguese from Malacca and briefly afterwards the Castilians from North Taiwan – before the Dutch were expelled from Taiwan by Zheng Chenggong twenty years later. Mathieu Torck discusses the importance of dietary provisions for naval and general military enterprises, focussing on travel accounts of and naval operations in and around Taiwan. We see that, although distances from and to the mainland were actually very short, the factor of food supplies in the success of military operations remained crucial. Zheng Chenggong, for example, during his conquest of the island experienced serious problems with food provisions in 1661 and eventually had to procure sweet potatoes (fanshu ⮠㯥) from the local Taiwanese population. Chu Te-lan opens another, more recent chapter of Taiwan’s commercial history. Today, Taiwan is a renowned international tea producing area.12 The history of its production and export can be traced back to the second half of the nineteenth century. In this context, Chu Te-lan discusses the rise and the international trading networks of Taiwanese Powchong ऻつ㥬 tea merchants during the time period when Taiwan was a colony of Japan, 1895–1945). Powchong or light Oolong ✅嗃 tea is a lightly fermented (oxidized) tea. With floral notes and roasted it is called “flower tea” (huacha 㣧 㥬 ). The contribution in detail introduces organizations (such as hang 㺂) and finance structures of and among these merchants and their gradual development, including measures they undertook to improve their position in the international competition. Famous tea merchants on Taiwan had already existed since the 1870s but their rise began during the time period of Japanese colonization. In 1915, the Taiwanese Powchong tea merchants founded the “Taibei Tea Merchants Association” which in Chu’s eyes reflects their advantageous position within the Taiwanese Powchong export market. They made great profits in the trade with for example Indonesia (Java), China and Hong Kong. However, with the boycott of Japanese commodities in the course of the Japanese Pacific War and their hostile activities against many countries, the Taiwanese tea merchants also began to feel these effects. Eventually the export of Powchong tea was overtaken by strong Japanese merchants. The final contribution by Christian Soffel sheds light on yet another aspect of Taiwan’s role as an island off the Southeast coast of China. He investigates Qing pe11 12 C. R. Boxer, The Great Ship from Amacon. Annals of Macao and the Old Japan Trade, 1555–1640. (Lisboa: Centro de Estudos Históricos Ultramarinos, 1963), p. 153. Her paper contribution has originally not been part of the 2007 conference, but it has been included here, as it nicely investigates trading networks of Taiwanese tea merchants during a period when the island was a colony of Japan. 6 Angela Schottenhammer riod poetry on Taiwan. Taiwanese poetry emerged when Zheng Chenggong and his clan ruled the island. A second period of Taiwanese poetry can be discerned for the first half of the Qing period, including the time when the island was officially incorporated into Chinese territory and mainland officials dispatched to the island described what they saw. From the nineteenth century onwards, when Taiwan more and more became a defence area against colonial forces, an increasingly patriotic awareness even led to the emergence of so-called “poetry societies” (shi she 䂟⽴), in particular after 1851, and these societies continued their activities during the period of Japanese colonization. Christian Soffel shows that the topos “Taiwan” was present in a broad range of works, and even Qing emperors like the Emperor Qianlong expressed their views on the island. Qianlong’s verses were composed with the help of servants “in order to embellish his military achievements and to propagate imperial splendour” (pp. 130–131), and did not show much interest in natural or cultural particulars of Taiwan: We did not expect that calamities would sweep through the ocean region and that it would take over a year to seize the bandits completely…. … The prophecy came true and the heroes arose, however the island was occupied; but in the end the war ended, the beast was shot and finally the sea became calm again. … I lessened the taxes and duties and thus did a favour; the rebellious people and the disobedient clerks regretted their former errors. I recite these parallel verses to remember the errors and not the joy, to remember how the power of the country is spread and propagated over ten thousand miles.13 Already these few lines may provide evidence of Qianlong’s official vision of Taiwan – an area in the ocean that was full of bandits and had therefore been “pacified” to prevent the mainland having to face such dangers. Analyzing entries in the Shizong Xianhuangdi zhupi yuzhi ьᇍ៨ⲽᑓ⹹᢯䄣ᰞ we receive a similar picture.14 Taiwan is, generally speaking, either considered as an important strategic point (jinyao 㐀㾷) 15 in terms of frontier defence or as a rice providing area16 in terms of defence belonging to the “maritime frontier” (haijiang ⎭⮼).17 Repeatedly, we find entries on people who crossed the Taiwan Straits secretly (toudu ‫)⑗ڭ‬. Taiwan is described as “lonely hanging beyond the seas” (gu xuan haiwai ᆚᠮ⎭ཌ) 18 , an expression (haiwai) also used to designate a foreign country, as a “lonely island hanging beyond the seas with the evil of cruel foreign 13 14 15 16 17 18 Cf. the complete poem in the contribution by Christian Soffel, pp. 128–129. Shizong Xianhuangdi zhupi yuzhi ьᇍ៨ⲽᑓ⹹᢯䄣ᰞ by Yongzheng 䴃↙ (1677–1735) and Qianlong Ҵ䲼 (1711–1799), in Siku quanshu, fasc. 418–423. For example Shizong Xianhuangdi zhupi yuzhi, j. 43, section xia, p. 20b. See for example several entries in Shizong Xianhuangdi zhupi yuzhi, j. 176, section 5, passim. Shizong Xianhuangdi zhupi yuzhi, j. 72, p. 17a–b, 22a. Shizong Xianhuangdi zhupi yuzhi, j. 176, section 5, p. 27b. Introduction and historical context 7 people” (gu xuan haiwai you xiong fan zhi huan ᆚᠮ⎭ཌᴿ‫⮠ݽ‬ҁᛙ) and robbers,19 as a “far away place beyond the deep ocean” (yuan zai zhongyang zhi wai 䚖൞䠃⍁ҁ ཌ). 20 The local inhabitants are repeatedly referred to as cruel, ruthless, and stubborn. They are described as “foreign people that came from several places beyond [the seas]” (fanmin zachu er wailai zhi min ⮠≇䴒㲋㙂ཌּҁ≇). 21 The Provincial Governor of Fujian Province, Zhu Gang ᵧ㏧ (?–1728), in a memorial from 1728 (yongzheng 6, 7th month, 6th day) interestingly categorizes them as a group of “yi” people from many origins, a term that traditionally was used for the so-called “Eastern barbarians” 22 (Taiwan yijun gu xuan haiwai, min yi zachu, zui wei jinyao zhi qu 㠰⚙ж䜗ᆚᠮ⎭ཌ≇཭䴒㲋ᴶ⛰㐀㾷ҁॶ).23 Here, however, “yi” referred to the locals and aborigines of Taiwan who were apparently really considered as a kind of wild, cruel barbarians with qualities very much distinct from the population of any other of China’s neighbouring countries. In the Pingding Zungar fanglue ᒩᇐⓌಬ⡴ᯯ⮛ Taiwan is even compared with the Zungar frontier and it is stated that since the territory has become part of China the villains of Fujian and Guangdong no longer have any place to hide.24 The relation between Taiwan and the mainland is described as one of “coat and lining” or “outside and inside” (biaoli 㺞㼗). 25 Penghu is seen as the “channel” or “throat” (yanhou ૳ி) between Xiamen and Taiwan.26 All these examples may show that Taiwan, although it had officially become an integral part of mainland China under Emperor Kangxi in the late seventeenth century, continued to occupy a particular position as a kind of outer frontier, viewed by both officials and emperors as not really belonging to China proper. 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 Shizong Xianhuangdi zhupi yuzhi, j. 13, section xia, p. 61a. Shizong Xianhuangdi zhupi yuzhi, j. 13, section xia, p. 22b; also j. 72, p. 1b (yuan ge haiyang difang 䚖䳊⎭⍁൦ᯯ). Shizong Xianhuangdi zhupi yuzhi, j. 72, p. 3b. The term was used differently in Qing times, because the Manchus themselves were a people that traditionally had been categorized as “yi” by Han Chinese. Still we can find a great amount of hits when checking, for example, the electronic version of the Shizong Xianhuangdi zhupi yuzhi in the Siku quanshu database. The Shizong Xianhuangdi zhupi yuzhi, j. 7, section 4, p. 3b, speaks of “yiguo ཭ു”. The term seems to be related not only to foreigners from the East, that is, people who had traditionally been designated as “Yi barbarians” by Han Chinese, but also foreigners in general, including those from the West. In the Shizong Xianhuangdi zhupi yuzhi, j. 7, section 2, p. 19a, it is used in relation with French ships (Falanxi chuan ⌋㱣㾵㡯). Shizong Xianhuangdi zhupi yuzhi, j. 33, pp. 77b–78a. Pingding Zungar fanglue ᒩᇐⓌಬ⡴ᯯ⮛ by Fu Heng ‫ڻ‬ᚈ (d. 1770) et. al. (Electronic version of the Siku quanshu-edition), qianbian ࢃ㐞 j. 4, p. 29a, 1791 (qianlong 56). Shizong Xianhuangdi zhupi yuzhi, j. 13, section xia, p. 12b. See for example Shizong Xianhuangdi zhupi yuzhi, j. 176, section 5, p. 30a. 8 Angela Schottenhammer BIBLIOGRAPHY C. R. Boxer, The Great Ship from Amacon. Annals of Macao and the Old Japan Trade, 1555–1640. (Lisboa: Centro de Estudos Históricos Ultramarinos, 1963). Chen Xinxiong 䲩‫ؗ‬䳺, Penghu Song Yuan taoci ◄⒌ᇁ‫ݹ‬䲬⬭. (Penghu: Penghuxian wenlihua zhongxin, 1985). Friedrich Hirth and W. W. Rockhill, Chau Ju-Kua. His Work on the Chinese and Arab Trade in the twelfth and thirteenth Centuries, entitled Chu-fan-chï. (St. Petersburg: Printing Office of the Imperial Academy of Sciences, 1911; reprint: Amsterdam: Oriental Press, 1966). Thomas Höllmann, “Formosa and the trade in venison and deer skins”, in Roderich Ptak & Dietmar Rothermund (eds.), Emporia, commodities and entrepreneurs in Asian maritime trade, c. 1400–1750. (Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag, 1991), pp. 263–90. Gudula Linck-Kesting, Ein Kapitel chinesischer Grenzgeschichte. Han und Nicht-Han im Taiwan der Qing-Zeit 1683–1895. (Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag, 1979). Münchener Ostasiatische Studien 22. Ming shi ᱄ਨ by Zhang Tingyu ᕫᔭ⦿ (1672–1755) et. al. (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1997). John Shepherd, Statecraft and Political Economy on the Taiwan Frontier, 1600–1800. (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1993). Shizong Xianhuangdi zhupi yuzhi ьᇍ៨ⲽᑓ⹹᢯䄣ᰞ by Yongzheng 䴃↙ (1677–1735) and Qianlong Ҵ䲼 (1711–1799), in Siku quanshu, fasc. 418–423. Sui shu 䳁ᴮ (636) by Wei Zheng 内ᗫ (580–643). (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1973). Ts’ao Yung-ho ᴯ≮ૂ (Cao Yonghe), Zhongguo haiyangshi lunji ѣു⎭⍁ਨ䄌䳼. (Taibei: Lianjiang chubanshe, 2000). Ts’ao Yung-ho, Taiwan zaoqi lishi yanjiu xuji 㠰 ⚙ ᰟ ᵕ ↭ ਨ ⹊ ガ 㓂 䳼 . (Taibei: Lianjing chuban shiye gongsi, 2000). Yü Ying-shih, Trade and Expansion in Han China. A Study in the Structure of Sino-Barbarian Economic Relations. (Berkeley. Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1967). Pingding Zungar fanglue ᒩᇐⓌಬ⡴ᯯ⮛ by Fu Heng ‫ڻ‬ᚈ (d. 1770) et. al. (Electronic version of the Siku quanshu-edition). The Emergence of Taiwan as an International Trading Rendezvous in the Sixteenth Century Chang Pin-tsun The island of Taiwan is geographically located at the dividing point between maritime East and Southeast Asia, and accordingly, an ideal bridge between the East and South China Seas. Oddly it had never played the role of bridging the flows of economic resources, until about the last third of the sixteenth century. Conventional explanation takes it for granted that the economy on the island was so primitive that it was bypassed by international maritime traders altogether, despite the visits of it by fishermen, shipwrecked refugees and international outlaws.1 The snag is that Taiwan’s economy continued to be as primitive as ever throughout the sixteenth century. Economic transformation barely began on the island in the second quarter of the seventeenth century when the Dutch East India Company (VOC hereafter) set up a government on the island and induced Chinese people to colonize it in 1624–1662. The flow of Chinese immigrants continued on and off in the remaining seventeenth century but it steadily quickened entering the eighteenth century.2 With a Chinese economy transplanted on it Taiwan now was able to offer economic opportunities attractive to international traders. Theoretically Taiwan could have been incorporated into the international economy of maritime East Asia only after the economic transformation on it had taken place with Chinese colonization. The intriguing fact is that it emerged as a trading rendezvous at least three-quarters of a century before the onset of Chinese colonization. Why did it happen then? This paper tries to shed light on this puzzle mainly from an institutional perspective. We’ll review Ming maritime policy in theory and practice and highlight the critical effect of ad hoc political adaptations on Taiwan’s early rise in the mercantile world of maritime East Asia. Evidence of Taiwan’s emergence In 1575, the two ports of Jilong 叺㊖ (chicken coop) and Danshui ␗≪ (fresh water) in north Taiwan were officially listed among the visiting ports of the Eastern Ocean Route for Chinese trading junks, marking the first formal rise of Taiwan as 1 2 Ts’ao Yung-ho ᴯ≮ૂ, Taiwan zaoqi lishi yanjiu xuji 㠰⚙ᰟᵕ↭ਨ⹊ガ㓂䳼. (Taibei: Lianjing chuban shiye gongsi, 2000), pp. 43–44. Chang Pin-tsun, “Chinese Migration to Taiwan in the Eighteenth Century: A Paradox”, in Wang Gungwu and Ng Chin-keong (eds.), Maritime China in Transition 1750–1850. (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag, 2004), pp. 97–114. 10 Chang Pin-tsun an international trading rendezvous.3 I say “formal rise” in the sense that they both might have risen informally earlier, perhaps going back to the opening of Haicheng ⎭► port in 1567, the first and only break of Ming regime’s maritime policy laid down by the founding emperor in 1367. The Chinese authorities did not have knowledge on overseas countries unless supplied by people of practical experiences. The list of trading places as sanctioned by them, therefore, must have been recommended by Chinese maritime merchants who had already frequented Jilong and Danshui, in addition to many places in the South Seas. It was first announced in 1575 because, eight years after the opening of Haicheng, trading junks sailing overseas grew in increasing number and the authorities deemed it imperative to regulate their trading destinations for easy control, thus starting a system of ship permits. Prior to the permit system Chinese junks could sail in and out of the port as long as they had registered at local authorities and paid taxes on ships and imports. In 1575 the Fujian Governor Liu Yaohui ࢿ๥䃞 (1522–1585) implemented the permit system and revamped the tax rates relating to foreign trade, which was first fixed by his predecessor Yin Congjian ⇭ᗔܿ (?–1573) in 1572.4 From then on all trading junks would have to apply for ship permits and pay permit taxes before they embarked on overseas voyages. For each permit a ship was entitled to sail out to a specified destination. In addition to ship tax and import tax imposed previously, a permit tax was created. The rate of permit tax for ships going to Jilong and Danshui was one third of those going elsewhere, indicating a smaller scale of trade in Taiwan. 5 There was at first no upper limit for the number of permits issued, which should suggest that as many junks as needed might set sail to service overseas trade. In 1589, however, an upper limit of 88 permits was set, but this limit was extended to 110 shortly afterwards due to people’s demand.6 That year Ming authorities seem to have begun to allocate a fixed number of ships for each specified destination. It is not clear if the increase of permit issues was made right in 1589. But at the latest in 1593 this was the case. That year the Fujian Governor Xu Fuyuan 䁧ᆐ䚖 (1535– 1604) submitted a memorial to the court against a decision made by Ministry of War, which had ordered the Fujian government to ban overseas trade due to security concerns over Japanese invading Korea in 1592. Xu wrote the memorial at the petition of 56 merchants engaging in foreign trade, and requested on their behalf that overseas trade in Haicheng should be allowed to go uninterrupted. Xu’s request 3 4 5 6 Zhang Xie ᕫ⠤, Dongxiyang kao ᶧ㾵⍁㘹. New print of the 1617-ed., punctuated and collated by Xie Fang 䅓ᯯ. (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1981), p. 132, also p. 104 and p. 185. For a detailed discussion see Chen Tsung-Jen 䲩ᇍӷ, Jilongshan yu danshuiyang: dongya haiyu yu Taiwan zaoqi lishi yanjiu 䴔㊖ኧ㠽␗≪⍁: ᶧӔ⎭ต㠽㠰⚙ᰟᵕ↭ਨ⹊ガ 1400–1700. (Taibei: Lianjing chuban shiye gongsi, 2005), pp. 63–77. Luo Qingxiao 㖻䶈ᇫ, Zhangzhou fuzhi ╩ᐔᓒᘍ. (Reprint of the 1573-ed., Taibei: Xuesheng shuju, 1965), j. 5, pp. 25a–26b. Ming shilu (MSL) ᱄ሜ䤺. (Taibei: Institute of History and Philology, Academia Sinica, 1966), 䲼ឬ 6 ᒪ 7 ᴾ䗑ч, Shenzong shilu ⾔ᇍሜ䤺, j. 3, pp. 18a–18b; and 㩢᳼ 2 ᒪ 12 ᴾ⭨ᆆ, Shenzong shilu, j. 32, pp. 9b–10a. Zhang Xie, p. 132. Ibid., and MSL, 㩢᳼ 17 ᒪ 4 ᴾя⭩, Shenzong shilu, j. 210, p. 6a. The emergence of Taiwan as an international trading rendevouz 11 should have prevailed, for maritime foreign trade did continue as usual in Fujian. Meanwhile, in a decree Xu issued that year to the authorities of Zhangzhou ╩ᐔ prefecture, the number of ship permits was clearly fixed at 110. Xu took a further step of relaxation by pardoning all junks which had previously sailed overseas and stayed overtime, on condition that they paid required taxes. Jilong and Danshui were lumped together by Xu as one destination and entitled for the visits of 10 ships yearly.7 Permit issues increased to 137 in 1597 at the request of Governor Jin Xueceng 䠇ᆮᴴ (?–1622), as several new destinations were added to the previous list.8 For Jilong and Danshui the quota of ten ships per year remained unchanged. This permit system remained intact as long as Haicheng was opened for overseas trade, and with it each year ten junks could legally sail to Jilong and Danshui. It was not until in 1628 when the Ming court decided to tighten the maritime prohibition and ban all private maritime trade in Haicheng, that junk trade to Taiwan was outlawed. The newly enthroned emperor Chongzhen ጽ⿄ (r. 1628–1644) endorsed the idea of prohibition as proposed in a memorial submitted by the censor Zhou Changjin ઞ᱂᱿.9 The prohibition was not rescinded to the end of the Ming, despite repeated petitions by officials in Fujian and Beijing for relaxation on overseas trade in Fujian. By that time Jilong and Danshui had declined and international trade had shifted to the unsanctioned port of Dayuan ཝଗ (Tayouan in Dutch) in southwest Taiwan, which was ruled by the Dutch in 1624–1662.10 Just when international trade at north Taiwan, as represented by Danshui and Jilong, began to shift to the southwest of the island centering at Dayuan, is hard to tell. The few extant records tend to indicate that the shift was first found at least around the turn of the century. Xu Fuyuan’s memorial of 1593 reported that Chinese had been trading in Jilong and Danshui, but had been fishing in Beigang ्⑥ instead.11 Beigang was the port later on called Dayuan. If it was still mainly a shelter for Chinese fishermen in the 1590’s, it was soon to turn into a trading port for Chinese and Japanese merchant vessels to congregate anyway. Chen Di’s 䲩ㅢ (1541– 1617) Dongfan ji ᶧ⮠䁎, written in 1603, was the first to describe this kind of illegal trade carried out there. As Chinese trade in Taiwan was outlawed other than Jilong and Danshui, their secretly meeting Japanese partners in southwest Taiwan invited attacks in late 1602 by the Ming navy commanded by the famous admiral Shen Yourong ⊾ᴿᇯ (1557–1627). Chen joined in the military expedition and gave a firsthand account on that part of the island, which turned out to be the first reliable 7 8 9 10 11 Xu Fuyuan 䁧ᆐ䚖, Jinghe tangji ᮢૂุ䳼. (Hishi copy of the 1694-ed.), j. 6, pp. 19b–30a, j. 9, pp. 10a–10b. MSL, 㩢᳼ 25 ᒪ 11 ᴾᓐᡂ, Shenzong shilu, j. 316, p. 4a. Jin Xueceng died in 1622, see MSL, ཟக 2 ᒪ 3 ᴾҏᐩ, Xizong shilu ⟯ᇍሜ䤺, j. 20, p. 6b. MSL, ጽ⿄ 1 ᒪ 1 ᴾ⭨ᆆ, Chongzhen shilu ጽ⿄ሜ䤺, j. 1, p. 6a. The complete text of Chou Changjin’s memorial is preserved in the MingQing shiliao ᱄␻ਨᯏ, Gengbian ᡀ㐞. (Taibei: Institute of History and Philology, Academia Sinica, 1972), vol. 1, pp. 5–7. Ts’ao Yung-ho, Taiwan zaoqi lishi yanjiu ਦ ⚙ ᰟ ᵕ ↭ ਨ ⹊ ガ . (Taibei: Liajing chuban shiye gongsi, 1979), pp. 25–44. Xu Fuyuan, Jinghe tangji, j. 6, p. 27a. 12 Chang Pin-tsun and detailed Chinese record on Taiwan.12 We may speculate the business shift from north to south Taiwan was gradual and was initiated by Chinese maritime merchants who were often fishermen in disguise. 13 Japanese were probably the only trading counterpart for Chinese merchants to meet at Jilong and Danshui throughout the sixteenth century, and this seems to have continued during the early shift of business toward southwest Taiwan in the early seventeenth century, until the Dutch VOC joined them in 1622. Toyotomi Hideyoshi’s 䊆㠙⿶ਿ (1536–1598) letter of 1593 demanding tribute from Takasango 儎⸸ു, and Tokugawa Ieyasu’s ᗭᐓᇬᓭ (1542–1616) vermilion seal writ shuinsen ᵧদ⣶ of 1615 that licensed it as a destination for Japanese trading vessels, both clearly showed Japanese involvement in the international trade on Taiwan.14 In those days the Japanese used Takasango to refer to native tribes surrounding Jilong and Danshui. As a result of the business shift international maritime trade began to coexist in both north and south Taiwan, with increasing weight tilting toward the latter. When the Dutch VOC ended the Spanish occupation of Jilong and Danshui (1626–1642) in 1642, Dayuan was left the sole port for international maritime traders to meet together. It should be remembered that both the Dutch and the Spaniards chose to set up trading bases on Taiwan only reluctantly after they had failed in repeated attempts, diplomatic as well as military, at gaining direct access to the Chinese market. They were convinced of the fact that business still could be done in Taiwan, as Chinese junks had carried merchandise to exchange with other nationals on the island for a long time. It is to be noted that “Taiwan 㠰⚙”, which we now use as a common name for the island, seems to have not gained its currency until the 1630’s. Prior to that date various Chinese names, each indicating a specific port or place, appeared in contemporary Chinese sources. Beigang, Dayuan, Taiyuan 㠰ଗ, Dawan ཝ⚙, for example, were often found to refer to the same port and its surroundings.15 The aborigines living in southwest Taiwan were called Dongfan, which Chen Di took for the title of his essay. Not infrequently it came to represent the island in late Ming 12 13 14 15 Shen Yourong collected many writings by his friends into a book Minhai zengyan 䯟⎭䌾䀶 and printed it in the 1620’s. Two of Chen Di’s essays in relation to the expedition are found in the book, one being the Dongfan ji. See new print, in Taiwan wenxian congkan ਦ⚙ᮽ⦱ਘࡀ, no. 56. (Taibei: Bank of Taiwan, 1959), pp. 24–32. Ts’ao Yung-ho, Taiwan zaoqi lishi yanjiu (1979), pp. 157–174. The letter and the writ are preserved in Ishin Sşden ԛᗹጽ۩ (comp.), Ikoku nikki ⮦ുᰛ䁎. (TŇkyŇ: Bijutsu, 1989), pp. 160, 174. Despite the prohibition against Japan, many Chinese went to Japan in the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries, as shown in Masuda Kazuki ໔⭦ओₕ, Satsuma ni ita mingokujin 㯟᪟ʉɢɽ᱄ുӰ. (Kagoshima: Takagi shobo, 1999), pp. 7–36. For Japanese trade to Taiwan and Southeast Asia in the early seventeenth century, see Iwao Seiichi ዟ⭕ᡆж, Shuinsen bŇekishi no kenkyş ᵧদ㡯䋵᱉ਨʌ⹊ガ. (TŇkyŇ: Yoshikawa kŇbunkan, 1985), esp. pp. 159–161, 360–365. InnŇ Yoshinori Հ㜳ి⸟, Taiwan bunkashi 㠰⚙ᮽौᘍ. (TŇkyŇ: TŇkyŇ shoin, 1928), vol. 1, pp. 1–90. Nakamura Takashi ѣᶇᆓᘍ, “Taiwanshi gaiyŇ 㠰⚙ਨᾸ㾷”, Minzokugaku kenkyş kikan ≇ᰅᆮ⹊ガᆙࡀ 18: 1–2 (1954), pp. 113–122. The emergence of Taiwan as an international trading rendevouz 13 sources. The island was again called Xiao Liuqiu ቅ⨿⨹, which first appeared in the Ming Veritable Record Ming shilu ᱄ሜ䤺 (MSL hereafter) in 1392 to make a distinction from the Ryşkyş kingdom. 16 These Chinese names in relation to Taiwan were never unified in the late Ming, and confusion often arose as to the exact location each represented. Why the name Taiwan 㠰⚙ finally won out and became fixed, was still a matter of controversy. Legend in Qing times has it that this very name of Taiwan was first coined by the Chinese pirates who settled down somewhere north to Dayuan in the 1620’s. It was not verified in Ming sources though. At present we can only trace credible Ming records to the 1630’s. As far as I have surveyed the present name of Taiwan was first found in a memorial submitted in 1633 by the Fujian Governor Zou Weilian 䝈㏣⪿ (?–1635) asking for policy relaxation.17 Zou of course just followed the usage of contemporary people, and the appearance of Taiwan in official documents indicates that by his time the usage was a convention widely accepted. He Kai ֋ᾭ and Fu Yuanchu ‫ࡓݹڻ‬, for instance, both followed the convention to use the present name of Taiwan throughout their memorials presented to the throne in 1635 and 1638 respectively.18 Though other names continued in use as well, they were dropping out soon. In contrast to Chinese usage westerners in those days commonly named the island “Formosa”, following the custom of Portuguese sailors who first sighted it and called it “Ilha Formosa” in the 1540’s. It now still goes as a nickname for the island.19 The opening of Haicheng The immediate cause for Taiwan’s first emergence on the international scene of maritime trade was the opening of Haicheng port for Chinese civilians to go overseas. Previously it was called Yuegang ᴾ⑥ (Crescent Port). It had long been a smuggling center and was the largest one after Sino-Portuguese and Sino-Japanese smuggling in the Zhoushan 㡕ኧ archipelagoes were completely destroyed by Ming troops in 1549 and 1558, respectively.20 Why Haicheng port was opened? The temporal sequence of historical events would lead us to regard its opening as an aftermath of the well-known Japanese 16 17 18 19 20 MSL, ⍠↜ 25 ᒪ 5 ᴾᐧч, Taizu shilu འ⾌ሜ䤺, j. 217, p. 6a. Ts’ao Yung-Ho, Taiwan zaoqi lishi yanjiu (1979), pp. 317–326. Chen Tsung-Jen, Jilongshan yu danshuiyang (2005), pp. 57–62. MingQing shiliao ᱄␻ਨᯏ, Guibian Ⲯ㐞. (Taibei: Institute of History and Philology, Academia Sinica, 1975), vol. 1, pp. 44–45. MSL, ጽ⿄ 11 ᒪ 1 ᴾᡀᇻ, Chongzhen shilu, j. 11, p. 1b. Their memorials can be found in Sun Chengze ᆡᢵ◚, Chunming mengyu lu ᱛ᱄མ低䤺. (Reprint of 1883, Hong Kong: Longmen shudian, 1965), j. 42, pp. 28b–30b, 33b–37a. A Portuguese map of 1554, now the earliest extant copy, gives this name to the island. See Ts’ao Yung-ho, Taiwan zaoqi lishi yanjiu (1979), pp. 300–301. Chang Pin-tsun ᕫᖢᶇ, “Shiliu shiji Zhoushan qundao de zousi maoyi ॷ‫ޣ‬ь㌶㡕ኧ㗚ጬⲺ 䎦 ⿷ 䋵᱉ ”, in Zhongguo haiyang fazhanshi lunwenji ѣ ു⎭ ⍁ Ⲳኋ ਨ䄌 ᮽ 䳼 , vol. 1. (Taibei: Zhongyang yanjiuyuan sanminzhuyi yanjiusuo, 1984), pp. 71–95. 14 Chang Pin-tsun piratical attacks on coastal China during the Jiajing reign (1522–1566).21 In the last two decades of the Jiajing period there broke out the largest and most prolonged piratical raids in Chinese history. Pirates pillaged many costal areas from the Yangtze delta to the estuary of the Pearl River, and the two provinces of Zhejiang and Fujian suffered the greatest damages. Ming contemporaries called these pirates “wokou ٣ᇽ”, literally Japanese pirates. In reality, they consisted of international components, including Chinese, Portuguese and Southeast Asian smugglers, though Japanese were substantial. Ming officials in this period, however, were well aware of Chinese participation in the raids; they even knew that Chinese were the majority among pirates. In their reports to the court on captures and kills, therefore, they were required to make a difference between genuine Japanese “zhenwo ⵕ٣” and others, so that different prizes could be awarded.22 These piratical raids in unprecedented scale prompted the Ming government to review conventional maritime policy seriously.23 Officials were found to have been divided into two opposing groups in terms of their diagnoses on coastal security in general and pirate problem in particular. The conservative hardliners believed the problem arose from lax enforcement of the prohibition, which had led to deteriorating social order on the coast. The institution designed by the founding emperor therefore should be seriously observed in toto. For a solution tightened police enforcement was in order. They advocated a policy of strict maritime prohibition (yan haijin ೪⎭⾷). In contrast, the pragmatic officials, by taking into account of the contradiction between people’s economic needs and the denial of it by the prohibition, concluded that the conventional institution of the prohibition had to be modified to remove the contradiction. They claimed diehard pirates were very few and did not constitute a serious threat. Instead, most pirates of the Jiajing period were armed traders who, when denied of their economic opportunities and pursued by coastal guards, turned into piracy as a last resort. To ensure coastal security maritime institution had to be made consistent with people’s economic needs. They considered a policy of relaxed maritime prohibition (kuan haijin ሢ⎭⾷) as a solution. 24 Throughout the later half of the 21 22 23 24 So Kwan-wai, Japanese Piracy in Ming China during the 16th Century. (East Lansing: Michigan University Press, 1975), pp. 122–160. Tanaka Takeo ⭦ѣ‫ڛ‬ཡ, WakŇ ٣ᇽ. (TŇkyŇ: KyŇikusha, 1982), pp. 15–20. Lin Renchuan ᷍ӷᐓ, Mingmo qingchu siren haishang maoyi ᱄ᵡ␻ࡓ⿷Ӱ⎭ р䋵᱉. (Shanghai: Huadong shifan daxue chubanshe, 1987), pp. 40–77. Chen Wenshi 䲩ᮽ⸩, “Ming jiajing nianjian zhefu yanhai kouluan yu sifan maoyi de guanxi ᱄ి䶌ᒪ䯉⎏⿅⋵⎭ᇽҸ㠽⿷ 䋟䋵᱉Ⲻ䰒‫”׸‬, Zhongyang yanjiuyuan lishi yuyan yanjiusuo jikan ѣཤ⹊ガ䲘↭ਨ䃔䀶⹊ガᡶ䳼 ࡀ 36:1 (1965), pp. 375–418. Tan Lun 䆐㏮, Tan xiangmin zouyi 䆐㽺ᮅ྅䆦, in Wenyuange siku quanshu ᮽ␫䯙഑ᓡ‫ޞ‬ᴮ. (Taibei: Shangwu yinshuguan, 1986), vol. 429, j. 1, pp. 4a–12b. Lin Renchuan, pp. 50–60. So Kwan-wai, Japanese Piracy in Ming China (1975), pp. 15–40. We would like to draw the reader’s attention here to the excellent analysis of Ming Chin’as maritime policy by Li Kangying ᶄᓭ㤧, The Ming Maritime Policy in Transition, 1368 to 1567. (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag, 2010). East Asian Maritime History, 8. Officials’ debates were well recorded by Zheng Ruoceng 䝣㤛ᴴ, Chouhai tubian ㊂⎭ൌ㐞. New print of 1693 ed., punctuated and collated by Li Zhizhong ᶄ㠪ᘖ. (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 2007), j. 12, pp. 763–856. The emergence of Taiwan as an international trading rendevouz 15 Ming Dynasty the Ming court had been locked in the tug-of-war between these two opposing parties among the bureaucrats and policy enforcement had swung from one side to the other. Generally speaking hardliners prevailed in the two reigns of Jiajing and Chongzhen ጽ ⿄ (1628–1644), while pragmatists had their days inbetween. It is to be noted that Ming maritime policy, formulated by the dynasty founder, was deemed sacred and inviolable throughout the Ming. Official debates tend to fall on the degree to which prohibition should be carried out. In other words, Ming officials, at least in appearance, were completely in consensus with regard to the maritime prohibition. What they differed was a complete ban or a partial ban on private maritime activities. The lesson of piratical attacks during the Jiajing reign, over which the government had barely won a Pyrrhic victory after a long-stretched war of nearly two decades, had convinced many bureaucrats of the necessity of relaxation. They became more and more vocal from the 1550’s onwards, especially when their viewpoint was endorsed by Hu Zongxian 㜗ᇍ៨ (1511–1565) and Tan Lun 䆐㏮ (1520–1577), both credited with the ultimate defeat of the pirates.25 Military campaigns against Japanese pirates in the Jiajing period were seriously undertaken at the two intervals of 1547–1549 and 1552–1564. The last Japanese pirates, including local rebels around Yuegang, were eradicated in Fujian province in 1564.26 With a devastated coastal economy and an escalated tax burden due from an enlarged military buildup, the Fujian government was hard pressed with financial deficit. Opinion for a relaxation policy was more appealing than ever as it argued on the basis of tax revenues and military cut, both now compatible with legalized private maritime trade. Maritime prohibition was still upheld in principle, but in practice it had to be modified to make terms with economic reality. This increasing consensus among the bureaucrats in favor of relaxation was doubtlessly crucial to the opening Haichheng in 1567.27 On the other hand change of power in the palace was another contributing factor. That year a new emperor Longqing 䲼ឬ (r. 1567–1573) acceded to the throne at the death of his father, Emperor Jiajing, a year earlier. Guided under a group of practical officials headed by Xu Jie ᗆ䳄 (1503–1583) as Senior Grand Secretary, the new reign began with measures of redress and reform, thus removing the barrier of policy relaxation in the court. 28 It was unlikely that the stern and stubborn Jiajing Emperor would yield to the pressure of piratical raids and modify his ancestral policy of maritime prohibition. In a conversation with Xu 25 26 27 28 MSL, ి䶌 35 ᒪ 12 ᴾⲮথ, Shizong shilu ьᇍሜ䤺, j. 442, pp. 3a–4a. This entry of MSL records a memorial by Zhao Wenhua 䏏ᮽ㨥, in which Zhao proposed for policy relaxation. Zhao was Hu Zongxian’s patron at the court. Tan Lun’s proposal is found in the entry of MSL, ి䶌 43 ᒪ 9 ᴾзᵠ, Shizong shilu, j. 538, pp. 3b–4a. Chen Wenshi, pp. 375–418. In addition to Hu Zongxian and Tan Lun, from 1567 to the end of Ming dynasty nearly all governors of Fujian were supportive on relaxation. They particularly emphasized the importance of tax revenues and people’s welfare. L. Carrington Goodrich, Dictionary of Ming Biography, 1368–1644. (New York: Columbia University Press, 1976), pp. 315–321, 570–576. 16 Chang Pin-tsun Jie in his final years he still told his most entrusted Grand Secretary that the country was not in good order because, to his disappointment, officials had not well observed his ancestral institutions.29 In fact during his reign no officials had requested for a permission of private overseas trade. Though they had discussed among themselves the advantages of allowing civilian maritime trade, at the court they were silent on the matter. Instead they just suggested vaguely the necessity for relaxing maritime prohibition, particularly for lifting the ban on people’s offshore maritime activities. Some of them used historical precedents to suggest incorporating private trade into the tribute trade system as a solution, which they deemed in line with the spirit of the founding emperor. That is relaxation of the greatest extent in their policy review. What these officials persistently pressed the court to do was sever part of the two counties of Zhangzhou Prefecture, in the surrounding area of Yuegang, to establish a separate county for coastal security. As early as 1549 Zhu Wan ᵧ㌾ (1494–1550), who had routed the Sino-Portuguese smuggling bases in the Zhoushan archipelagoes, memorialized to create a new county at Yuegang, which was rejected by the court. After the last batch of Japanese pirates consisting mainly of local rebels were eliminated in Yuegang in 1564, petitions for a new county by native Fujianese and local officials pressed ahead, culminating in a memorial submitted by the provincial governor Wang Daokun ⊠䚉᰼ (1525–1693) in 1565. The court did not give its consent until the very end of 1566, just a few days before the Jiajing Emperor died. Yuegang was then made county capital and was officially renamed Haicheng, in the hope that hereafter the sea would be calm and the waves clean (haijing pocheng ⎭䶒⌘►).30 That hope seems to have sustained for Haicheng in the half century immediately following its opening, though it would have to take another decade for southern Fujian bordering Guangdong ᔙᶧ province to be totally free from pirates. These pirates after the Jiajing reign were called sea bandits (haikou ⎭ᇽ). In contrast with the previous pirates of the Jiajing reign comprising international outlaws, they were made up of Chinese people alone. It is likely that, with the death of the Jiajing Emperor, the Governor of Fujian, Tu Zemin ຍ ◚ ≇ (?–1569), was emboldened by the new political atmosphere around the court and submitted a memorial to request for opening Haicheng port and legalizing private maritime foreign trade. The request was made in 1567 and was accepted by the court, according to Zhang Xie’s ᕫ⠤ (1574–1640) Dongxiyang kao ᶧ㾵⍁㘹.31 Permission for opening Haicheng, however, never appeared in the MSL until Xu Fuyuan’s memorial of 1593, which cited Tu’s precedent to argue against prohibition.32 Xu’s memorial did not give the exact date of Tu’s request but merely said it was made in early Longqing 䲼ឬ reign (1567-1572). As Tu died in the third year of Longqing, i.e., 1569, he could have submitted his memorial only in 29 30 31 32 MSL, ి䶌 42 ᒪ 7 ᴾ⭨⭩, Shizong shilu, j. 523, pp. 1a–b. MSL, ి䶌 45 ᒪ 12 ᴾ⭨ॾ, Shizong shilu, j. 566, p. 2b. For details of Haicheng’s birth see Luo Qingxiao, Zhangzhou fuzhi, j. 30, pp. 1a–2a, 60b–61b. Zhang Xie, Dongxiyang kao, p. 131. Xu Fuyuan, Jinghe tangji, j. 6, pp. 20a, 25b. The emergence of Taiwan as an international trading rendevouz 17 the early years of the Longqing reign. His memorial is lost now. Xu’s memorial is luckily preserved in a collection of his writings, but it does not appear in the MSL either. Instead, the MSL merely mentions Xu’s request in 1597 when Governor Jin Xueceng asked for an increase of permit issues.33 Without further sources for crosscheck we are now inclined to accept Zhang Xie’s words and fix the year of opening Haicheng in 1567. In contrast to the absence of record in relation to private overseas trading in Haicheng, the MSL does keep a record for the first time on the restructuring of the maritime tax system in Haicheng, which was recommended by the Fujian Governor Zhou Cai ઞᇶ (?–1592) in 1589.34 This should indicate Tu’s request had been a widely known fact, despite silence among the bureaucrats. In hindsight we can’t better appreciate the significance of this policy change initiated by Tu, which, after two century of prohibition, for the first time in the Ming permitted Chinese civilian junks to sail overseas. Contemporary Ming officials might yet be too cautious to expose the break of their ancestral institutions and thus purposely bypassed the event in official records, lest they turn out to be political scapegoats someday. Chinese and Japanese merchant ships may have come to Jilong and Danshui prior to 1575, as official recognition tended to follow a fait accompli. It is unlikely, however, that they would have come before the opening of Haicheng port in 1567. Smugglers for convenience used to carry out their business on China coast or offshore islands until such was made impossible in the two decades before 1567. China was then locked up in military campaigns against international pirates. With the opening of Haicheng Chinese civilians could now legally undertake maritime trade in foreign countries, save for Japan. But Japan was the biggest market for Chinese exports in East Asia. Now that risk cost of smuggling near Chinese waters was too high, and unnecessary, Taiwan became the nearest selection for them to meet and trade. Ming maritime policy The root cause of Taiwan’s first emergence, as hinted by the description in the previous section, is embedded in Ming maritime policy laid down by the founding emperor. 35 Ming maritime policy consisted of two parts: tribute trade and maritime prohibition. By maritime prohibition the Ming regime suppressed all private transactions between Chinese and foreigners; and by the tribute trade system it monopolized all Sino-foreign economic exchanges. The Ming system of tribute trade allowed foreigners from overseas countries to enter China only in the name of paying tribute to Chinese emperor, thus recognizing him as their overlord. Commodities exchanges took place in two ways. Tribu33 34 35 MSL, 㩢᳼ 25 ᒪ 11 ᴾᓐᡂ, Shenzong shilu, j. 316, p. 2a. MSL, 㩢᳼ 17 ᒪ 4 ᴾя⭩, Shenzong shilu, j. 210, p. 6a. Zhang Xie, Dongxiyang kao, p. 132. Ts’ao Yung-ho, “Shilun mingtaizu de haiyang jiaotong zhengce 䂜䄌᱄འ⾌Ⲻ⎭⍁Ӛ䙐᭵ㆌ”, in Zhongguo haiyang fazhanshi lunwenji ѣ ു ⎭ ⍁ Ⲳ ኋ ਨ 䄌 ᮽ 䳼 , vol. 1. (Taibei: Zhongyang yanjiuyuan sanminzhuyi yanjiusuo, 1984), pp. 41–70. 18 Chang Pin-tsun tary missions presented part of their cargoes as tribute gifts to the emperor, who in turn would grant them a reward consisting of the coveted Chinese goods. For the rest of the cargoes foreigners were permitted to sell them to Chinese civilians at the port of call and the imperial capital, where Chinese goods likewise could be purchased too. All business transactions had to be conducted within a specified period under government supervision. Chinese government had the priority of buying foreign imports, if it decided to do so. These two parts of goods exchanges comprised almost the whole of tribute trade in China.36 There was a minor supplementary way for Sino-foreign economic exchanges to take place under the system of tribute trade. This is the exchanges of merchandise carried out in overseas countries by Chinese envoy missions dispatched by Chinese emperor. Chinese envoys were sent out by the Ming court to invite tributary payments from foreign rulers or to carry out investiture of foreign rulers on behalf of the emperor. Their ships were entitled to carry some Chinese goods for trade at the host countries, and buy foreign goods on their return. From ancient times Chinese emperors had received foreign embassy missions and accepted their tributary payments with reciprocal rewards. These missions were usually allowed to bring with them some native products in exchange for Chinese goods on Chinese market, tax free or at a privileged tax rate. Diplomacy merging with commerce had long been a convention in dynasties prior to the Ming. Following the convention the founding emperor of the Ming dynasty set up a system of tribute trade to maintain diplomatic relationship with foreign states. There was an innovation in his system though, and this is that Sino-foreign trade was entirely enmeshed in tribute trade. Prior to the Ming, Sino-foreign trade was done primarily via merchandise exchanges among civilians. Tribute payment was one thing, and Sino-foreign trade was another. They were separate activities. Although tributary missions could take advantage of their privileges to engage in profitable mercantile activities, it was by no means the major way for Sino-foreign trade. It in fact was just a by-product of tribute payment and represented but a tiny proportion of Sinoforeign trade. The Ming founding emperor, in contrast, deleted the separation of tribute payment and Sino-foreign trade, and made them completely identical. From now on Sino-foreign trade was to be conducted only by foreign tributary missions in China at fixed time and places, under the supervision of officials from the Ministry of Rites (libu ⿤䜞) or from the Maritime Trade Supervisorates (shibosi ᐸ㡬ਮ). It was also to be conducted in foreign countries by Chinese investiture missions, 36 For details of Ming tribute trade, see KŇbata Atsushi ቅ㩿⭦␩, Chşsei nantŇ tsşkŇ bŇekishi no kenkyş ѣь঍ጬ䙐Ӛ䋵᱉ਨʌ⹊ガ. (TŇkyŇ: TŇkŇ shoyin, 1968), pp. 212–372; Li Jinming ᶄ 䠇᱄, Mingdai haiwai maoyishi ᱄ԙ⎭ཌ䋵᱉ਨ. (Beijing: Zhongguo shehui kexue chubanshe, 1990), pp. 11–79; Li Qingxin ᶄឬ᯦, Mingdai haiwai maoyi zhidu ᱄ԙ⎭ཌ䋵࡬ᓜ. (Beijing: Shehui kexue wenxuan chubanshe, 2007), pp. 99–162; Roderich Ptak, “Ming Tribute Trade to Southeast Asia, 1368–1567: Vision of a System”, in Claude Guillot, Denys Lombard, and Roderich Ptak (eds.), From the Mediterranean to the China Sea. (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag, 1998), pp. 157–191. The emergence of Taiwan as an international trading rendevouz 19 which took place infrequently and had marginal contribution to economic exchanges. The Ming system of tribute trade, which transformed Sino-foreign trade into a government monopoly and which entirely shut down the channel of private transactions, was unprecedented indeed. To sustain it the founding emperor implemented a policy of maritime prohibition, banning all civilian maritime trade, Chinese as well as foreigners’. Other than matters in relation to tributary payment, Chinese were forbidden to go overseas, and foreigners were likewise forbidden to come forth to China. When enforced to the extreme, the maritime prohibition could be even extended to ban offshore marine fishing. Ming maritime policy, consisting of government-monopolized tribute trade and maritime prohibition, had an inherent contradiction between political and economic interests. The contradiction, with time, would undermine both the smooth operation of tribute trade and the practical enforcement of the maritime prohibition. Tribute trade would diminish to be symbolic, and the maritime prohibition would become formal. Ming maritime policy was so devised as to maximize political interest at the expense of economic interest. Though a government monopoly, tribute trade was not aimed at making profit. It was deemed as an inducement for foreign rulers to come and pay tribute to Chinese emperor, thereby acknowledging their vassaloverlord relationship. No wonder the trade was handled by the Ministry of Rites instead of Revenue. The principle of exchanges, as laid down by the founding emperor, was “give more and take less” (houwang bolai ৐ᖶ㮺ּ),37 which as a result would overvalue foreign goods and underprice Chinese merchandises in their exchange. Tribute trade therefore was a trade-off between Chinese economic interest and foreigner’s political interest, and could serve as an inducement for foreigners. It was essentially a loss-making business to the Chinese government, and reversely, highly profitable for foreigners. Chinese government and foreign tributary missions accordingly had opposite incentives towards tribute trade. Chinese government would have it scale down, whereas foreigners would have it scale up. This interest conflict could be avoided as long as the Chinese government was generous enough to subsidize the trade and absorb the loss, as was witnessed in the period of Zheng Ho’s expeditions (1405–1433). When the Chinese government was no longer enthusiastic at political interest and decided to scale down the trade, tension flared up. Foreigners became less and less interested in it, and from the mid-fifteenth century tributary missions dwindled to make the trade more a form than substance. 38 The contradiction of political and economic interest essentially rendered Ming tribute trade system untenable. Again with time, the inherent contradiction would extend to an area of wider repercussions, and this is the tension between official concern for national security and civilian concern for economic welfare. Tribute trade, under Ming maritime policy, should represent all Sino-foreign economic interflow. When it was scaled down, 37 38 MSL, ⍠↜ 5 ᒪ 1 ᴾ༢ᆆ, Taizu shilu འ⾌ሜ䤺, j. 71, p. 1a. Li Jinming, Mingdai haiwai maoyishi (1990), pp. 54–67. 20 Chang Pin-tsun the interflow weakened, and market demand and supply in China as well as overseas countries were strained. Market demand, however, would not go away with political squeeze anyway. It had to be satisfied one way or another. If tribute trade failed to satisfy it, other ways should be opened as substitutes. Ideally tribute trade would be maintained as a government monopoly by maritime prohibition, and no alternative would be allowed for remedy. This was but an official ideal. The reality was market demand had to be satisfied, and indeed it was satisfied via an informal economy created by smugglers. It is little wonder that from the mid-fifteenth century onward maritime smuggling had outweighed tribute trade to become the major way of Sinoforeign economic exchanges.39 We have noted the contradiction between official interest in security and people’s interest in economy. The contradiction could be evaded in two ways: lax enforcement of prohibition, or policy relaxation to allow private participation in maritime trade. Prior to the mid-Jiajing reign lax enforcement characterized the approach tacitly adopted by the Ming authorities. The half century following Haicheng’s opening witnessed the dominance of the other way. In either way a relatively symmetrical demand and supply between Chinese and foreign market would be maintained, thereby satisfying people’s economic need and ensuring political security. Contradiction would arise when enforcement was geared up and private participation in overseas trade was thwarted. This is the case of the Jiajing reign. Starting with the appointment of Zhu Wan as governor of Zhejiang ⎏⊕, with authority extending to supervising coastal Fujian, a move strongly supported by the conservative Grand Secretary Xia Yan ཅ䀶 (1482–1548), the Ming government began to enforce maritime prohibition with earnest in 1547, driving many international smugglers to take arms in defiance.40 That the last two decades of the Jiajing reign was written with a chapter of bloody military showdown between official troops and international smugglers represented by Japanese pirates, is not surprising at all. What is shocking is the severity of contradiction as expressed in the protracted war that inflicted so much loss on the empire. National security, as far as coastal China was concerned, was endangered to the extent never experienced before. The ideal of Ming maritime policy, which aimed at maximizing political interest, once put into practice, proved to be self-defeating on both counts: it failed to enhance Ming international prestige in an ossified tribute trade system, and it generated people’s armed struggles that put national security in jeopardy. Many Ming officials, especially those with practical experience in military campaigns or in local governance, came to realize the inherent contradiction of their ancestral institutions and searched for practical solution. The solution was opening a seaport for Chinese 39 40 KŇbata Atsushi, Chşsei nantŇ tsşkŇ bŇekishi no kenkyş (1968), pp. 350–360; Li Jinming, Mingdai haiwai maoyishi (1990), pp. 80–108; Li Qingxin, Mingdai haiwai maoyi zhidu (2007), pp. 163–181. So Kwan-wai, Japanese Piracy in Ming China (1975), pp. 84–99. Chang Pin-tsun, “Shiliu shiji Zhoushan qundao de zousi maoyi” (1984), pp. 71–95. L. Carrington Goodrich, Dictionary of Ming Biography (1976), pp. 372–375. The emergence of Taiwan as an international trading rendevouz 21 private junks to engage in foreign trade, and enforcing at the same time the policy of maritime prohibition by suppressing illegal trade. It is conceivable that right after the Jiajing war against Japanese pirates, the Chinese coast was sealed off more tightly than ever by strengthened naval surveillance, and risk cost of smuggling on coastal China was far too high. Offshore islands, reaching as far as the Penghu ◄⒌ archipelagoes, which had long been considered as a frontier of imperial China, were strictly banned by the government for foreign trade. Taiwan was thus left a choice of the second-best for international traders to meet and exchange merchandise. To the end of the dynasty Ming authorities regarded this island as beyond the realm of their empire and therefore, when the permit system was first announced in 1575, it was listed among the sanctioned destinations along the Eastern Ocean route. Ming officials should have been aware that Chinese junks visiting Taiwan were actually engaged in trade with the Japanese, as evidenced by their reports in the 1590’s and thereafter when the court demanded them to be alert against Japanese invasion. 41 They just connived at what happened in Taiwan as long as the island was deemed far off and posed no immediate threat to coastal security. It is under these circumstances that Taiwan emerged on the commercial stage of maritime East Asia, even still with a primitive native economy. Conclusion In 1575 Chinese trading junks were issued permits to visit the two ports of Jilong and Danshui in north Taiwan, marking the first emergence of Taiwan as a rendezvous for international maritime traders. Until the turn of the century Chinese and Japanese represented the whole of these international traders coming forth to Taiwan regularly to exchange merchandizes, and Jilong and Danshui were their marketplaces. Situation began to change at the turn of the century, as some of their ships were sailing to anchor at the port of Dayuan in southwest Taiwan. Business at this new rendezvous grew rapidly despite its absence in the Chinese official list of permit issues. It attracted not only Chinese and Japanese, but also Europeans. When the Dutch VOC took over Dayuan and made it headquarter of its East Asian trade in 1624, it quickly overshadowed Jilong and Danshui to become the most dynamic trading port in Taiwan. The Spanish occupation of Jilong and Danshui in 1626–1642 did give a lease of life to these two ports, but business there kept waning beyond recovery and the Spaniards had been planning an evacuation even before they were finally forced out of the island by the Dutch in 1642. International trade on Taiwan was concentrated in Dayuan henceforth. In the early decades of the seventeenth century Taiwan as a trading rendezvous became more internationalized. The immediate cause for Taiwan’s emergence is the opening of Haicheng in 1567. Chinese trading junks now could sail overseas without risking in smuggling. 41 Xu Fuyuan, Jinghe tangji, j. 6, pp. 19a–29a, 70a–86a. MSL, 㩢᳼ 25 ᒪ 11 ᴾᓐᡂ, Shenzong shilu, j. 316, p. 4a; and 㩢᳼ 40 ᒪ 8 ᴾзথ, Shenzong shilu, j. 498, pp. 2a–4a. 22 Chang Pin-tsun As China remained closed to foreigners, business transaction had to be done somewhere in overseas countries. Taiwan came to be the closest country for Chinese junks sailing from Haicheng to visit. With the ban on trade to Japan remained in effect, they stopped at Taiwan to meet their Japanese partners. Jilong and Danshui, which had long been familiar to sailors going between Fujian and Japan, won out as their favorite ports to service their business. Chinese authorities in Fujian may have suspected their maritime merchants were trading with Japanese in Taiwan, but they simply cast a blind eye to what happened on that foreign land and sanctioned the trade there in 1575. With Chinese junks visiting Taiwan, Japanese and later on, Europeans were attracted to exchange merchandise on this island. Underlying the emergence of Taiwan is the effect of Ming maritime policy. The policy was devised for Ming regime’s political interest, without taking into account people’s economic interests. For the purpose of political security civilians, Chinese and foreigners alike, were denied access to Chinese and overseas markets. They therefore joined together to defy maritime prohibition by undertaking smuggling. The growth of smuggling threatened coastal security and invited government’s crackdown, which again intensified smugglers resistance. Vicious cycle of power struggle set in, until a Pyrrhic victory was finally won by government troops. The root cause for Taiwan’s emergence is thus the contradiction inherent in Ming maritime policy. This policy was unique in Chinese history in its very nature of a total ban on civilian participation in maritime mercantile pursuits. It is by no means an accident that in the Ming there appeared the smuggling and piracy of the largest scale in Chinese history. Ming government was eventually forced by protracted coastal violence to open a seaport for Chinese civilians to undertake foreign trade. As the ban of foreign ships from visiting China continued, Chinese civilians and foreigners ended up in meeting at Taiwan, an island closest to Haicheng which was the only Chinese port open to private trade. Taiwan therefore owed its first rise in international maritime trade to Ming maritime policy and the modification of it in the sixteenth century. Indeed, had it not been for the blocking of Ming maritime policy, international maritime traders would have thronged into China for direct transaction, as the case in previous dynasties, and Taiwan would have continued to be bypassed, unless its primitive economy was transformed into a commercial attraction. 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Zheng Ruoceng 䝣㤛ᴴ, Chouhai tubian ㊂⎭ൌ㐞. New print of the 1693-ed., punctuated and collated by Li Zhizhong ᶄ㠪ᘖ. (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 2007). Zwischen zwei „Mittelmeeren“: Taiwan als Barriere und Brücke * Roderich Ptak Einleitung Sowohl das Südchinesische wie auch das Ostchinesische Meer – letzteres mit seinen nördlichen „Anhängen“, dem Gelben Meer und dem Bohai – sind gelegentlich mit dem europäischen Mittelmeer verglichen worden. Es ist nicht meine Absicht, diese Vergleiche im Detail zu überprüfen oder gar die Übertragbarkeit Braudelscher Kategorien auf außereuropäische Kontexte zu kommentieren, doch gehe ich davon aus, daß die genannten asiatischen Regionen sehr wohl als mehr oder minder eigenständige Austauschräume betrachtet werden können, zumindest in voreuropäischer Zeit. Damit ist zugleich unterstellt, daß die sie umgebenden Küstengebiete jeweils durch eine Reihe von Gemeinsamkeiten verbunden waren, von denen einige als naturgegebene, überwiegend unveränderliche longue durée-Phänomene im Braudelschen Sinne, andere eher als von Menschenhand geformte, konjunkturell bestimmte und folglich weniger langlebige Elemente aufgefaßt werden müssen. Die eigentliche Ereignisgeschichte wiederum, welche die jeweiligen Küsten in Bezug zueinander bringt, wäre dann als oberste Schichtung anzusehen, als Sequenz von Abläufen, die, eingebettet in vorgegebene „Tiefenstrukturen“, eher einen vorübergehenden Charakter hätten. Dieses Bild läßt sich noch mit einigen anderen Forderungen verknüpfen: Um überhaupt von einer in sich zusammenhängenden, maritimen Region sprechen zu können, sollte es mehr Gemeinsamkeiten zwischen den einzelnen Küstenräumen geben, auch zwischen jenen, die einander gegenüberliegen und in historischer Zeit allein über See zugänglich waren, als zwischen selbigen und den jeweils angrenzenden Hinterlandszonen. Anders ausgedrückt: Die seegestützten Austauschbeziehungen – wirtschaftliche wie kulturelle – müssen an Bedeutung bzw. in der Summe jene Kontakte überwiegen, die über Land liefen. Dergleichen bleibt freilich unüberprüfbar, zumal die Festlegung entsprechender Kriterien ziemlich willkürlich wäre – ganz zu schweigen davon, daß sich letztere auch nicht wirklich messen ließen. Demnach kommt die Vorstellung von maritimen Austauschräumen bisweilen einem Bündel von Impressionen gleich, von dem wir annehmen, es sei durch einen inneren Zusammenhalt geprägt, der die Wirklichkeit auch einigermaßen wahrheitsgemäß abbil- * Zuerst erschienen in B. Häse und C. Storm (Hg.), „Eroberungen aus dem Archiv“... Festschrift für Lutz Bieg (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2009; Abhandlungen für die Kunde des Morgenlandes 69), S. 149–170. 26 Roderich Ptak de. Der Raum „an sich“ muß somit zwar in letzter Konsequenz als konstruiert gelten, doch scheint seine Konstruktion durchaus gerechtfertigt zu sein. Das Obige deutet an, daß die Charakterisierung des Ostchinesischen wie des Südchinesischen Meeres als „Mittelmeere“ im Braudelschen Sinne – oder zumindest als vormals mittelmeerähnliche Gebilde – viele konzeptuelle Fragen aufwirft, die einer komplexen Diskussion bedürfen. Diese kann hier nicht geleistet werden. Deshalb bleibt die gewählte Kategorisierung selbstverständlich nur vorläufiger Natur. Weniger schwierig gestaltet sich die Überlegung, welcher Art die Grenze zwischen den beiden oben genannten Meeren war. Hiermit sind die Insel Taiwan und die Formosa- oder Taiwan-Straße angesprochen, die beide Seegebiete physisch und in anderer Hinsicht voneinander trennten, aber ebenso miteinander verbanden. Die folgenden Ausführungen möchten genau dieses Thema aufgreifen und zeigen, wie sich die unterschiedlichen Funktionen ebenjenes maritimen Grenzsaumes fassen lassen. Betrachtet wird der Zeitraum bis ca. 1700, wobei der Anfangspunkt naturgemäß offen bleibt. Dabei soll es nicht um Einzelheiten gehen, sondern um eine Gesamtschau, um den Blick von oben, gleichsam aus der Vogelperspektive. Taiwan als geographische Barriere Über die frühe Geschichte Taiwans ist wenig bekannt. Archäologische Zeugnisse liefern oft nur vage Hinweise, und chinesische Beschreibungen, die ältesten überhaupt, bleiben häufig unscharf, außerdem ist nicht immer klar zu ermitteln, ob das gängige Toponym „Liuqiu“ ⨿⨹, welches in mehreren Schreibvarianten und gelegentlich mit den Attributen „groß“ (da ཝ) und „klein“ (xiao ቅ) auftritt, Taiwan und die Ryukyu-Inseln meinte, oder nur Taiwan alleine bzw. nur die Ryukyu-Gruppe. Chinas Geographen, so der Eindruck, wußten insgesamt recht wenig über die Inselwelt vor den eigenen Küsten. Selbst die verschiedenen Kaiserhöfe zeigten kaum Interesse, und entsprechende Erkundungen, militärisch oder anderweitig motiviert, blieben meist ohne längerfristige Konsequenzen. Sogar Khubilais Versuch, „Liuqiu“ zu vereinnahmen (im späten 13. Jahrhundert), hatte keine dauerhaften Folgen. Taiwan in jenen frühen Zeiten zum chinesischen „Kernland“ zählen zu wollen, würde demnach nicht auf uneingeschränkte Zustimmung stoßen. In gewisser Weise blieb die Insel bis weit in unser Mittelalter hinein terra incognita, bestenfalls quasi cognita. Dies galt natürlich nicht für die Westseite der TaiwanStraße. Schon in vorchristlicher Zeit lassen sich seegestützte Kontakte längs der chinesischen Küste, zwischen dem heutigen Zhejiang im Norden und der Guangdong-Gegend im Süden, nachweisen. Händler, Diplomaten, Mönche und sogar Soldaten verkehrten auf dieser Linie. Weniger wissen wir über die Ostseite der Taiwan-Straße, wohl schon allein deshalb, da ja zu Taiwan selbst kaum Beschreibungen vorliegen. Wahrscheinlich wurde sie nur selten genutzt, gab es doch kaum Gründe, die Fujian-Küste zu meiden und auf das gegenüberliegende Ufer auszuweichen. Auch mögliche Verbindungen von Japan via Ryukyu nach Luzon, entlang der pazifischen Seite Taiwans, sind durch frühe Schriftquellen nicht sicher zu belegen. Gelegentlich geäußerte Annahmen, Taiwan als Barriere und Brücke 27 Personen wie Fa Xian ⌋亥 (um 340 bis um 420), der im frühen 5. Jahrhundert unterwegs war, hätten Taiwan in einem großen Bogen ostwärts umsegelt, bleiben letztlich Spekulationen. Zusammengefaßt also: Anfangs spielten weder Taiwan selbst noch die Ostseite der Taiwan-Straße und auch nicht die pazifische Route für den Handel und Kulturtransfer zwischen Ost- und Südchinesischem Meer nennenswerte Rollen. Lediglich die Westseite der Taiwan-Straße kann als rege Verkehrsader zwischen den genannten Austauschzonen angesehen werden. Sofern zutreffend, lag Taiwan damit abseits der Weltgeschichte, vergleichbar bisweilen der Insel Hainan, die ebenfalls während bestimmter Epochen von der Historie „geschnitten“ wurde. Und außerdem: Taiwan wirkte fast wie eine geographische Barriere zwischen zwei gigantischen Räumen, der nordost- und der südostasiatischen Welt. Kurz, es trennte wohl mehr als daß es verband. Ähnliche Konstellationen lassen sich in anderen Regionen aufspüren. Man denke etwa an die Lakkadiven und Malediven: In früher Zeit folgten Schiffe, die vom Bengalischen Meer zum Golf von Aden oder zur Kenia-Küste wollten, der indischen Westseite bis zum heutigen Kalikut oder Mangalore, ehe sie schließlich den direkten Weg über die offene See nach Westen einschlugen. Die Lakkadiven, Minicoy und die Malediven lagen wie ein undurchdringlicher Gürtel vor der südindischen Küste, die Route via Minicoy oder gar Male galt als gefährlich. Wohl erst später, nachdem die Malediven fester in den internationalen Handel eingebunden waren, wurde häufig der direkte Weg von Südindien nach Ostafrika gewählt, unter Umgehung anderer Küsten. Zur Entwicklung der Seerouten Hatten Taiwan und seine Küstengebiete in früher Zeit für die Austauschbeziehungen zwischen Ost- und Südchinesischem Meer wie ebenso für die Kontakte innerhalb dieser beiden Zonen bestenfalls marginale Bedeutung, wie oben angedeutet, so mehren sich unter den Song und Yuan allmählich die Hinweise auf neue Entwicklungen, vor allem auf chinesische Handelsaktivitäten entlang der taiwanesischen Westküste. Diese waren allerdings weniger mit Taiwan selbst verknüpft, sondern hatten in erster Linie mit solchen Faktoren zu tun, die außerhalb Taiwans lagen. Um die Änderungen zu verstehen, ist erneut ein Blick auf die Seerouten Quanzhouerforderlich. ⋿ᐔ an der Fujian-Küste bildete unter den Song und Yuan in vielerlei Hinsicht den eigentlichen Knotenpunkt zwischen Ost- und Südchinesischem Meer. Muslimische Händler, die aus Champa oder gar Westasien kamen, malabarische, tamilische und andere Kaufleute verkehrten hier. Nur selten reisten südostasiatische Gesandte nach Norden und nordostasiatische nach Süden, ohne die Küste Fujians aufzusuchen. Für die meisten war Quanzhou demnach der Eckpfeiler ihrer jeweiligen Missionen. Umgekehrt stachen chinesische Schiffe von Quanzhou aus in See, um Orte weiter südlich, rund um das Südchinesische Meer und sogar im Indischen Ozean, sowie weiter nördlich, etwa in Korea und auf Kyushu, aufzusuchen. 28 Roderich Ptak Mit den Gebieten im Süden war Quanzhou vor allem über die sogenannte „Westroute“ (xi hanglu 㾵 㡠 䐥) verbunden, die den Küsten Fujians, Guangdongs und Hainans bis zur vietnamesischen Küste folgte. Von der Südspitze Vietnams aus konnten dann verschiedene Orte auf der Malaiischen Halbinsel erreicht werden. Ebenso möglich war die Überfahrt von Vietnam zur Nordwestspitze Kalimantans. Weiter südlich lagen Ostsumatra, Bangka und Nordjava, und über die SingapurGegend oder die Sunda-Straße ließ sich schließlich der Indische Ozean erreichen. Die zweite Route, die Quanzhou mit dem Süden verband, war die sogenannte „Ostroute“ (dong hanglu ᶧ㡠䐥). Sie führte von Fujian hinüber zu den PenghuInseln ◄ ⒌ 㗚 ጬ oder direkt zur Südspitze Taiwans und von dort weiter nach Nordluzon. Entlang der Westseite Luzons, auf dem Weg in die Sulu-See, lag Mindoro, am Südrand der Sulu-See selbst konnten Mindanao, die Sulu-Inseln und die Sabah-Küste besucht werden. Die allseits bekannten Beschreibungen Zhou Qufeis ઞৱ䶔 und Zhao Ruguas 䏏⊓䘸 aus der Südsong-Zeit sowie archäologische Funde – z.B. auf Mindanao – legen nahe, daß dieses Routensystem ab dem 12. Jahrhundert systematischer genutzt wurde. Unter den Yuan scheinen dann außerdem Nordsulawesi und die Gewürzinseln von Norden her angelaufen worden zu sein. Die Ostroute wurde damit, gewissermaßen in Fortsetzung der Sulu-Trasse, über die Celebes- und Molukken-See nach Südosten hin verlängert. Hiervon zeugen die Texte Wang Dayuans ⊠ཝ␫ und Chen Dazhens 䲩ཝ䴽 aus dem 14. Jahrhundert. Beide Trassen, die West- und die Ostroute, waren überdies durch den Weg längs der Sarawak-Küste miteinander verknüpft wie vermutlich ebenso durch eine vorübergehend genutzte „horizontale“ Direktpassage zwischen Champa und Mindoro, die an den Zhongsha-Riffen ѣ⋏㗚ጬ vorbeilief. Eine direkte Nord-SüdDurchquerung des Südchinesischen Meeres, etwa von Fujian hinunter nach dem heutigen Brunei, war indes unmöglich, zumal ausgedehnte Sandbänke und Korallenatolle diesen Weg blockierten. Folglich führten die Nord-Süd-Verbindungen zwischen Fujian und Südostasien an den Rändern des Südchinesischen Meeres entlang, dessen Mitte sie gleichsam zangenförmig umfaßten. Völlig anders gestaltete sich die Situation im Ostchinesischen Meer. Zum einen war Quanzhou über die Küstenroute mit den Zhoushan-Inseln 㡕ኧ㗚ጬ, Ningbo ም⌘ (Mingzhou ᱄ᐔ) und Hangzhou verknüpft. Von diesen Punkten aus führte die Küstenroute überdies weiter nach Norden, entlang der heutigen Jiangsu-Küste, bis zur Shandong-Halbinsel. Von dort aus konnte Korea besucht werden – wie ebenso das Bohai-Gebiet. Theoretisch ließen sich sogar die Südspitze Koreas und die ihr vorgelagerte Insel Cheju auch direkt von Zhejiang aus erreichen. Außerdem waren Überfahrten von Zhejiang nach Kyushu möglich. Hindernisse, vergleichbar den Korallenriffen im Südchinesischen Meer, gab es so gut wie keine in diesen Zonen. Zum anderen gab es die Möglichkeit, von Fujian aus, vorbei an der Nordspitze Taiwans und den kleinen Eilanden Pengjia ᖣ֩ und Diaoyu 䠙冐, nach Okinawa und schließlich weiter in Richtung Kagoshima oder Tanegashima zu segeln. Via Südkyushu konnten Reisende zudem die Goto-Gruppe, den Tsushima-Archipel und ebenso Pusan in Korea erreichen, während die Bungo-Straße zur japanischen In- Taiwan als Barriere und Brücke 29 landssee führte. Dieses Routensystem, vor allem aber die Passage von Fujian nach Okinawa und Kyushu – so der allgemeine Eindruck –, wurde zunehmend unter den Song und Yuan genutzt. Schiffe aus Fujian konnten somit, ohne in Ningbo oder auf den ZhoushanInseln Zwischenstation einzulegen, nach Nordostasien gelangen. Das erwies sich bereits unter den Südsong als vorteilhaft, denn der nordchinesische Küstenraum – Shandong und Teile der heutigen Provinz Jiangsu eingeschlossen – stand zu jener Zeit erst unter Herrschaft der Jin und dann unter Aufsicht der Mongolen, deren Kontrollen somit zu umgehen waren. Die Verlagerung der direkten Kontakte zwischen Japan / Korea und Rest-China auf die etwas weiter südlich gelegenen Trassen ist folglich im Zusammenhang mit den politischen Entwicklungen nördlich des Yangzi und Huai zu sehen. Daß die alte Route via Shandong parallel dazu an relativer Bedeutung verlor, liegt auf der Hand. Die Einzelheiten der geschilderten Verschiebungen interessieren hier nicht. Wichtig ist statt dessen, daß sowohl der Ausbau der sogenannten „Ostroute“ zwischen Fujian und Südostasien als auch die allmähliche Intensivierung der Verbindung Fujian-Okinawa-Kyushu die Insel Taiwan tangierten – insofern nämlich als beide Trassen direkt an selbiger vorbeiführten und natürlich zu Zwischenstops an der taiwanesischen Westseite einluden. Das mag auch die Erwähnung der PenghuInseln in Wang Dayuans Bericht und die vorübergehende Errichtung eines Militärpostens auf selbigen erklären. Gleich wie – Taiwan begann nun aus Sicht Fujians näher an das Festland heranzurücken. Fujianesen als Katalysatoren der Entwicklung Die meisten chinesischen Seefahrenden, welche die oben beschriebenen Wege durch das Ostchinesische Meer sowie die „Ostroute“ nach Luzon nutzten, kamen vermutlich aus Fujian selbst. Sie befreiten Taiwan gleichsam aus der geographischen Isolation und erschlossen die Formosa-Straße für den regulären Handelsverkehr. Zugleich waren sie dafür verantwortlich, daß die Handelsverbindungen zwischen der Ostchinesischen Meereszone und den Gebieten rund um das Südchinesische Meer langsam ausgeweitet wurden – über Häfen wie eben Quanzhou. Entsprechend änderte sich auch die Rolle Taiwans: Die Nähe des „Wachstumsmarktes“ Fujian hinterließ nun erste Spuren auf der Insel, die allmählich zu einer Art Interessensphäre der Händler aus Min avancierte. Natürlich hatte der Aufstieg der Fujianesen im internationalen Seehandel mehrere Gründe. Sie sind nicht alle restlos geklärt, aber zumindest einige können heute als gesichert angenommen werden. So durchlief Fujians lokale Wirtschaft strukturelle Verschiebungen, die wohl dazu führten, daß Teile der lokalen Bevölkerung neue Erwerbsmöglichkeiten suchten. Das kam vermutlich dem Überseehandel zugute und förderte schon sehr früh die Auswanderung kleinerer Gruppen. Kaufleute, die sich mit Erfolg in der Fremde etabliert hatten, zogen sodann weitere Personen nach, welche beim Ausbau entsprechender Handelsnetze hilfreich sein konnten. Und bald wurden diese Entwicklungen von Angehörigen der lokalen Oberschicht in 30 Roderich Ptak Fujian selbst wie gelegentlich ebenso von entsprechend einflußreichen Kreisen in den jeweiligen Gastorten wohlwollend begleitet, zumal Gewinne aus dem Überseegeschäft allen Seiten dienlich waren. Dieser Prozeß dürfte dadurch beschleunigt worden sein, daß, modern ausgedrückt, technisches Knowhow, navigatorisches Wissen und andere Kenntnisse nach Fujian einsickerten – und zwar wohl meist über muslimische Kanäle entlang der alten „Westroute“. Den Fujianesen kam dies sehr zugute, wußten sie doch alles Neue für sich nutzbar zu machen. So übernahmen sie allmählich die Rolle ihrer ausländischen Kollegen im Handel zwischen Quanzhou, der Malaiischen Halbinsel, Sumatra und Java. Ja, möglicherweise zählten sie im 13. Jahrhundert auch schon weiter westlich, in einigen Häfen an den Ufern des Indischen Ozeans, zu den führenden Händlergruppen. Als die muslimischen Kaufleute dann im 14. Jahrhundert von den Ming aus Quanzhou und anderen chinesischen Häfen vertrieben wurden, brach der Seehandel entlang der chinesischen Küste zwar vorübergehend ein, nicht zuletzt aufgrund rigoroser Verbote, mit denen der Hof private Geschäfte zu unterbinden suchte. Doch bereits wenig später übernahmen Fujianesen nun erst recht jene Handelssegmente, die zuvor noch in ausländischen Händen gelegen hatten, zumal sich die neuen Regeln vielerorts umgehen ließen, wenngleich auch unter hohen Risiken. Die muslimischen Händler wiederum blieben China nun auf Dauer fern. Offenbar wichen sie auf etliche Orte rund um die Sulu-See, nach Brunei und vielleicht ebenso nach Nordjava aus. Von diesen Häfen aus hielten sie die „rückwärtigen“ Verbindungen zu den islamischen Häfen Indiens und Westasien offen. Das frühe 15. Jahrhundert ist vor allem durch die berühmten Fahrten Zheng Hes 䝣ૂ (1405–1433) und anderer gekennzeichnet, die in staatlichen Diensten unterwegs waren. Fujian sei durch einen hohen „Input“ maßgeblich am Erfolg dieser Unternehmungen beteiligt gewesen, so die gängige Sicht. Zumindest deuten die Texte an, daß Fujian viele Schiffe und erfahrene Seeleute bereitstellte, von denen einige wohl aus dem illegalen privaten Sektor in den staatlichen übernommen wurden. Wichtig zudem: Wang Jinghong ⧁Ქᕎ (um 1370 bis nach 1435), heute gerne auf einer Ebene gesehen mit Zheng He, soll in Fujian geboren worden sein. Damit spielte diese Provinz offenbar auch für die Kommandostrukturen der offiziellen Seefahrt eine zentrale Rolle. Fujian bildete also eine entscheidende Stütze, vielleicht sogar das Rückgrat der frühen Ming-“Expansion“ überhaupt, welche unter dem Yongle-Kaiser (reg. 1403–1424) begonnen worden war. Das Ende des staatlich gesteuerten Handels (1433) sollte – langfristig – für Fujian einen weiteren Entwicklungsschub bringen. Kapitäne, Schiffbauer und andere Spezialisten, die zuvor im Dienste der Ming gearbeitet hatten, verschrieben sich nun erneut der privaten Seefahrt. Obgleich diese illegal blieb (nur der jetzt abflauende Tributhandel war offiziell gestattet), blühte sie doch im Verborgenen allmählich wieder auf und zog bald sogar die lokale Beamtenelite in ihren Bann, die vom Auslandsgeschäft zu profitieren suchte und folglich die Handelsrestriktionen der Zentrale unterlief. Um 1500 und danach finden wir deshalb fujianesische Fahrzeuge in Taiwan als Barriere und Brücke 31 vielen Häfen Südostasiens, vor den Ryukyu-Inseln und eben zugleich vor Taiwan. Einzelne Buchten entlang der taiwanesischen Küste sowie die Penghu-Inseln, so ist gelegentlich vermutet worden, wurden häufig als Treffpunkte für solche Transaktionen genutzt. Daneben fuhren fujianesische Fischerboote zur taiwanesischen Westseite. Der spätere portugiesische Name für die Penghu-Gruppe – Pescadores (d.h. „Fischer“) – ist ein klares Anzeichen hierfür. Fujians Konkurrenten Doch waren die Fujianesen nicht die einzigen, welche in der frühen Neuzeit die maritime Welt Ost- und Südostasiens kommerziell „dominierten“. Die RyukyuInseln, noch um 1400 in drei kleine Gebiete geteilt, wurden wenig später unter einer Hand geeint und errichteten im Laufe des 15. Jahrhunderts ein eigenes Handelsnetz, in dessen Zentrum der Ort Naha auf Okinawa lag. Dieses Netz mit internationalen Verästelungen ist in vielen Quellen gut belegt. Im Norden reichte es bis Korea und Japan, im Süden bis Luzon sowie – die „Westroute“ durch die Taiwan-Straße nutzend – bis Vietnam, Siam, Melaka und Java. In gewisser Weise wurden Fujian und Ryukyu damit Konkurrenten, denn Ryukyu-Schiffe lieferten – im Rahmen des chinesischerseits erlaubten Tributverkehrs, aber auch heimlich – Pfeffer, Salpeter, Sapanholz, Zinn, Pferde und andere Waren nach Fujian. Außerdem überlappten sich die Interessen beider Gruppen in Südost- und Nordostasien. Neu war zudem wohl noch etwas anderes: Auf dem Wege von Naha nach Südostasien fuhren Ryukyu-Schiffe vermutlich häufig an der taiwanesischen Westseite entlang. Die Verbindung zwischen Ost- und Südchinesischem Meer wurde damit direkter, Zwischenstops in Fujian erübrigten sich. Dafür scheinen Ryukyu-Händler gelegentlich Orte in Guangdong und auf Hainan besucht zu haben, die weit jenseits der Taiwan-Straße lagen. Insgesamt implizierte dies eine etwas andere Segmentierung des Handelsraumes: Zuvor bildete Fujian die eigentliche Nahtstelle zwischen Ost- und Südchinesischem Meer, die handelstechnische Übergangszone fiel also gleichsam mit einer „natürlichen Grenze“ zusammen; nun wurden die alten Konturen aufgeweicht, denn Ryukyu-Schiffe „übersprangen“ diese Grenze in einem weit ausholenden Bogen. Gleichzeitig zählte Taiwan nicht mehr ausschließlich zur Interessensphäre Fujians, am Rande gehörte es jetzt ebenso zum Einflußbereich des kleinen Ryukyu-Reiches. Wesentliche Ursache für diese neuartige Konstellation scheint die Entwicklung auf dem chinesischen Festland gewesen zu sein: Die Zentrale in Beijing begünstigte den offiziellen Tributverkehr von Naha nach Fujian und damit entsprechende Reexporte süd- und nordostasiatischer Güter via Ryukyu nach China, während der private fujianesische Seehandel durch die bereits erwähnten Vorschriften weiterhin als illegal galt. Das ermöglichte es dem Ryukyu-Staat, tropische Produkte aus Melaka, Patani und anderen Orten zu beschaffen und diese nicht nur nach China, sondern ebenso nach Korea und Japan weiterzureichen. Koreanische Quellen jener Zeit melden z.B. ryukyuanische Pfefferlieferungen, die ihren Ausgang in Südostasien nahmen. 32 Roderich Ptak Obschon China ungünstige Rahmenbedingungen für den eigenen Überseeverkehr gesetzt hatte, ließen sich die Fujianesen hiervor kaum beeindrucken. Im Laufe des 16. Jahrhunderts wurde der Wunsch nach vermehrten Handelskontakten immer lauter, und das bedeutete, daß fujianesische Händler ihre Aktivitäten in Südostasien sowie einigen Häfen rund um das Ostchinesische Meer nun deutlich ausweiteten. Damit begannen sie auch, das bestehende Ryukyu-Netz zu unterwandern und schließlich ganze Abschnitte desselben zu „fujianisieren“. Gefördert wurde diese schleichende Entwicklung vermutlich durch schubweise Änderungen der Tributvorschriften in China, welche den offiziellen Verkehr von Naha nach Fujian alsbald in enge Schranken wiesen. Das erhöhte den Substitutionsdruck, ermunterte fujianesische Händler also dazu, ebenjene Lücken zu füllen, die durch den erzwungenen Rückgang der Ryukyu-Lieferungen entstanden waren. Infolgedessen schrumpfte das ryukyuanische Handelsnetz weiter, während das fujianesische kontinuierlich wuchs. Nach 1500 begegnen wir allerdings noch einer weiteren Kraft: den Portugiesen. Der lusitanischen Eroberung Melakas im Jahre 1511 folgten, wie allgemein bekannt, die Erkundung des Seeweges nach China und schließlich wiederholte Bemühungen um eine feste Basis entlang der chinesischen Küste. Interessant hierbei: Portugiesische Schiffe „schnitten“ Formosa (wie Taiwan nun in europäischen Quellen genannt wurde), und Portugal unternahm zu keiner Zeit ernste Anstrengungen, sich auf den Ryukyu-Inseln auszubreiten, obschon eine sichere Station irgendwo auf dem langen Inselgürtel vor der chinesischen Küste für die Ausgestaltung des portugiesischen Handels mit Japan – selbiger bahnte sich ja schon in der ersten Hälfte des 16. Jahrhunderts an – durchaus opportun gewesen wäre. Daß sich Portugal am Ende mit der Halbinsel Macau begnügte, mit einem kleinen Terrain im Einzugsgebiet Guangzhous ᔙᐔ, hat wohl einen „kuriosen“ Grund (neben vielen anderen), über den in der Literatur allerdings kaum je spekuliert worden ist: Portugiesen und Fujianesen waren zu diesem Zeitpunkt nachweislich Konkurrenten – in Südostasien und vor der chinesischen Küste –, und die Händler Fujians, die den RyukyuArchipel und Taiwan als ihre Sphäre betrachteten, taten vermutlich alles, um die Konkurrenz auf Distanz zu halten. Aus fujianesischer Sicht mußte es demnach ein Vorteil sein, wenn Portugiesen vor den Toren Guangzhous weilten und ZentralGuangdong bedienten, zumal sie dadurch von anderen Märkten abgelenkt wurden. Fujian konnte sich somit auf „seine“ Zonen konzentrieren, die Absorption des Ryukyu-Sektors fortsetzen und die Entwicklung der „Ostroute“ vorantreiben – bzw. jener Segmente derselben, welche noch außerhalb des Zugriffs der iberischen Mächte lagen. Zugleich hielt es sich alle Optionen für Taiwan offen. Anders formuliert: Taiwan war nun erstmals, wenngleich zunächst nur ansatzweise, in eine andere Kategorie vorgerückt – es war zum Spielball international denkender Kräfte geworden, allen voran der expandierenden Fujianesen. Auch die Funktion der Taiwan-Straße hatte sich geändert, wurde sie doch seit dem 15. Jahrhundert mehr als je zuvor für den direkten Verkehr zwischen Ost- und Südchinesischem Meer genutzt, anfangs in erster Linie von Ryukyu-Schiffen, später von den alljährlich via Melaka und Macau nach Japan fahrenden Portugiesen. Die alte Rolle Taiwan als Barriere und Brücke 33 der Insel als Barriere zwischen den Meeren begann zu verblassen, eine neue Ära kündigte sich an. Die sich in Nord- und Südostasien intensivierenden Austauschbeziehungen zogen Taiwan gleichsam immer mehr in ihren Bann. Spielball im globalen Geschehen Im letzten Drittel des 16. Jahrhunderts und im frühen 17. Jahrhundert wurde diese Entwicklung durch das Auftreten zusätzlicher Gruppen und weiterer Faktoren verstärkt. Zunächst gab der Ming-Hof 1567 die unsinnige Seeverbotspolitik auf. Das bedeutete, daß fujianesische Händler nun leichter – und meist legal – ins Ausland reisen konnten. Damit stieg die Bedeutung der „Ostroute“ sowie des Weges von China via Ryukyu nach Japan sprunghaft an. Zugleich ließen sich Chinesen jetzt häufiger auf der Westseite Taiwans nieder, wo sie mit autochthonen Gruppen Handel trieben oder ihr Glück im Landbau versuchten. Vor allem Zuckerrohr sollte sich langfristig als wichtiges Agrarprodukt erweisen. Die nächste Gruppe, die hier zu berücksichtigen ist, waren die Japaner. Diese überwanden allmählich ihre innenpolitischen Rivalitäten, und bald lief ein Großteil des japanischen Auslandsverkehrs in Nagasaki zusammen. Das erleichterte den Handel für alle Beteiligten. Im übrigen fuhren Japaner nun selbst immer häufiger von Kyushu aus nach Südostasien, und zwar vor allem zu Orten entlang der heutigen Vietnam-Küste und nach Ayuthaya in Siam. Dabei mußten Zwischenstops in den chinesischen Häfen vermieden werden, denn der Ming-Staat hatte die vielen blutigen Zwischenfälle, von denen einige durch Japaner provoziert worden waren, noch nicht vergessen. Japanische Händler zählten also wie die Portugiesen in Macau und zuvor die Ryukyuaner auf Okinawa eher zu jenen, die Ost- und Südchinesisches Meer direkt miteinander verbanden und dabei gelegentlich an der taiwanesischen Westküste entlang segelten, freilich ohne größere Versuche zu wagen, sich auf Taiwan niederzulassen. Eine ganz andere Gruppe bildeten die Niederländer, die kurz vor 1600 erstmals in Südostasien erschienen waren und sich seither um die Aufnahme regulärer Handelskontakte nach Japan bemühten. Zu diesem Zweck wollten sie, gleich den Portugiesen, eine feste Zwischenstation vor der chinesischen Küste erwerben, um den langen Weg zwischen Java und Kyushu besser überbrücken zu können. Doch die Ming ließen sich von der ebenso geizig wie brutal auftretenden OstindienCompagnie (VOC) nicht betören und lehnten alle niederländischen Wünsche ab. Schließlich versuchten die Niederländer im Jahre 1622, das friedfertige Macau zu erobern. Da der Angriff gründlich mißlang, besetzte die VOC kurzerhand den Penghu-Archipel, den sie jedoch bald wieder aufgeben mußte. Es folgte die Errichtung eines befestigten Stützpunktes an der Südwestseite Taiwans, der Fort Zeelandia genannt wurde. Dieser blieb für rund vier Jahrzehnte in niederländischen Händen und diente, wie es die VOC erhofft hatte, als wichtiges Bindeglied für den Handel mit Japan. Hiermit war etwas Außerordentliches geschehen: Eine externe Kraft, die global dachte und weiträumige geostrategische Ziele verfolgte, hatte sich mit Nachdruck 34 Roderich Ptak auf Taiwan etabliert. Vergleichbare Absichten können den schon zuvor gekommenen Fujianesen wohl kaum nachgesagt werden. Fort Zeelandia hingegen wurde nicht nur kommerziell, sondern ebenso als Basis für Attacken gegen chinesische und andere Schiffe in der Taiwan-Straße genutzt. Das führte zu einer tiefen Kluft zwischen Chinesen und Niederländern. Allerdings gelang es der VOC im Laufe der Jahre, einige chinesische Gruppen auf ihre Seite zu ziehen. Dabei ging es um wirtschaftliche Interessen, etwa um die Beschaffung von Rehfellen für den japanischen Markt. Taiwan wurde folglich als gigantisches Jagdrevier genutzt und mit Hilfe chinesischer Partner als Rohstofflieferant „ausgeschlachtet“. Auch das war neu für die Insel. Obschon die niederländische Präsenz auf Taiwan räumlich sehr begrenzt blieb, erwies sie sich somit in mancherlei Hinsicht als radikaler Einschnitt. Taiwan glich nun einer kommerziellen Brücke zwischen Japan und den VOC-Häfen in Südostasien und damit erstmalig einem Verbindungsglied zwischen zwei großen Austauschzonen. Das an sich war nicht verwerflich, doch die autochthone Bevölkerung hatte unter den Fremden zu leiden. Übervorteilung und Ausbeutung standen an der Tagesordnung, die Inselressourcen wurden rücksichtslos geplündert. Durch die nahezu völlige Vernichtung des heimischen Rotwilds provozierten die Niederländer und ihre chinesischen Zulieferer sogar eine vorübergehende Störung des ökologischen Gleichgewichts. Wenig verständlich deshalb, daß taiwanesische Wissenschaftler heute, einseitigen nordwesteuropäisch überprägten Geschichtsbildern aufsitzend, gelegentlich mit Stolz von der „niederländischen Epoche“ ihrer Insel sprechen. Nur wenig früher als die Niederländer, fast zeitgleich also, etablierte sich noch eine weitere fremde Gruppe auf Taiwan: die Spanier. Ihr Einfluß konzentrierte sich auf den Norden der Insel, während die VOC vor allem die Südwestseite kontrollierte. Militärisch und wirtschaftlich waren die Spanier nicht so wichtig, im Vergleich zu Fort Zeelandia wirkten ihre Niederlassungen gar nur wie kleine Außenposten, dafür aber übten sie auch keinen so zerstörerischen Einfluß aus wie die protestantisch-calvinistische Konkurrenz. Und während es letzterer meist nur ums Materielle ging, sandte Spanien gelegentlich Missionare, darum bemüht, wie auf den Philippinen, die lokale Bevölkerung langfristig für sich zu gewinnen. Doch Spanien trug kein leuchtendes Gewand, dies kann selbst die Tatsache, daß seine taiwanesischen Niederlassungen recht bald in niederländische Hände fielen, nicht vertuschen. Hier bedarf es einigen Ausholens: Schon lange davor hatte die Aufteilung der Welt in zwei Interessensphären – folgend der alten Vereinbarung von 1494 – die transpazifischen Erkundungen vorangebracht und schließlich zur Besetzung von Positionen auf den nördlichen Philippinen und Molukken geführt. Ende des 16. Jahrhunderts wurde gar über eine Eroberung Chinas nachgedacht, ein wenig nach dem Vorbild der Konquista Amerikas. Kurz, von Luzon aus sei mit Hilfe von Japanern, Portugiesen und philippinischen Kontingenten zumindest die Küstenprovinz Fujian zu nehmen. Aus diesen kühnen Plänen, von einzelnen Kreisen lanciert, hitzköpfigen Individuen zumeist, nicht vom Habsburger Hof an sich, wurde freilich nichts. Spanien fehlte es an Geld und Personal, die Vernichtung der Ar- Taiwan als Barriere und Brücke 35 mada in Europa mußte erst verdaut werden. China blieb somit eine Invasion erspart und Taiwan wohl das Schicksal, gegebenenfalls als militärisches „Sprungbrett“ dienen zu müssen. Gleich wie – der Vorfall zeigt, daß sich die Interessen global handelnder Mächte im insularen Gürtel vor Chinas Küste nun gleichsam kreuzten, denn Spanien blickte von Ost nach West, Holland von Süden nach Norden. Und nicht nur Niederländer und Spanier dachten in großen Dimensionen, auch Japan, das gerade erst damit begonnen hatte, Schiffe von Kyushu nach Südostasien zu entsenden, durch die Taiwan-Straße hindurch, arbeitete inzwischen an militärischen Plänen: Als Hideyoshi Ende des 16. Jahrhunderts Korea verwüstete, wurden zugleich Angriffe gegen China und Manila erwogen. Wäre es hierzu gekommen, hätte Taiwan, aus japanischer Sicht, wohl als logistische Basis dienen müssen. Bereits zuvor hatte ja der allseits bekannte Fall des Lin Feng ᷍ 仞 (Limahon etc., aktiv vor allem in der 2. Hälfte des 16. Jahrhunderts) angedeutet, daß Taiwan für Aktionen gegen Luzon nützlich sein konnte. Doch aus diesen frühen Expansionsträumen wurde freilich nichts. Erst später, im 19. und 20. Jahrhundert, sind sie in anderer Form umgesetzt worden. Die einzige global handelnde Macht jener Zeit, die in Fernost präsent war, Taiwan aber nie wirklich in komplexere Pläne einbezog, blieben die Portugiesen. Ihre realistische Einschätzung der Lage und ihre profunde Kenntnis der ostasiatischen Verhältnisse hielten sie dazu an, sich von den spanischen Vorschlägen zu distanzieren, niederländischen Übergriffen vorzubeugen, so gut dies ging – vor allem an der diplomatischen Front –, und den Fujian-Chinesen aus dem Wege zu gehen. Auch durch Japans Launen ließ sich das portugiesische Lager nicht erschüttern. Obgleich sich die Portugiesen in Fernost eher defensiv verhielten, erregte doch die Tatsache, daß sie über einen soliden Stützpunkt an der südchinesischen Küste verfügten, Neid und Aufsehen. Zumindest die Bemühungen der Niederländer und Spanier, Taiwan in ihr jeweiliges System einzubinden, können daher bis zu einem gewissen Grade auf die portugiesische Präsenz in Guangdong zurückgeführt werden. Macau zog aus dem Verkauf chinesischer Seide in Nagasaki und dem Verkauf japanischen Silbers in Guangzhou hohe Gewinne; vergleichbare Gewinne ließen sich an anderer Stelle in Portugiesisch-Asien kaum erwirtschaften; das machte den Fernen Osten für andere Europäer umso attraktiver. Die VOC, so ist hieraus zu folgern, hätte sich vielleicht nie auf Taiwan niedergelassen, wäre es ihr nur gelungen, Macau einzunehmen. Vergleichbares gilt für die Spanier: Der freie Zugang nach China blieb diesen ebenso verwehrt, folglich war Manila beim Kauf chinesischer Seide und bei der Veräußerung amerikanischen Silbers fast stets auf seine fujianesischen Zubringer angewiesen. Die Manila-Fujian-Achse kreuzte somit die portugiesischen und niederländischen Verbindungen, wobei die Ministützpunkte auf Taiwan gleichsam vorgeschobene Außenposten bildeten, die im übrigen auch für den Handel zwischen Luzon und Japan dienstbar gemacht werden konnten. Hinzu kam die missionarische Komponente: Portugal war, mit Unterstützung Roms, in Japan und China aktiv. 36 Roderich Ptak Spanien träumte davon, mit dem iberischen Nachbarn in diesen Bereichen gleichziehen zu können. Die Präsenz der Europäer in Fernost führte noch zu einer weiteren, angesichts des Obigen fast nebensächlich wirkenden Entwicklung: Jetzt segelten die großen Handelsschiffe gelegentlich an der pazifischen Küste Taiwans entlang. Zwar blieb die Taiwan-Straße der eigentliche Korridor zwischen Ost- und Südchinesischem Meer, aber der direktere und durchaus kürzere Weg durch die pazifischen Weiten wurde hin und wieder bevorzugt, vor allem, um feindlichen Kanonen auszuweichen. Die gebirgige Pazifikseite der Insel selbst blieb hiervon freilich so gut wie unberührt. Durch die sich ausweitenden Nord-Süd-Verbindungen wurden beide Austauschzonen, Ost- und Südchinesisches Meer, von außen zusätzlich geöffnet. Das gilt umso mehr, als diese Gebiete längst auch von Amerika aus, über den Pazifik, erreicht werden konnten. Die oben beschriebenen Änderungen, die Taiwan „an sich“ betrafen, fallen demnach in etwa mit der beginnenden Nutzung des pazifischen Raumes zusammen. Und ferner: Gelegentlich wird betont, die Schließung der pazifischen „Lücke“ durch Magellan und seine Nachfolger habe den sogenannten „Globalisierungsprozeß“ entscheidend vorangebracht. Falls zutreffend, dann gäbe es eine Korrelation zwischen Taiwans verstärkter Einbindung in den Seehandel bzw. in weitreichende geostrategische Überlegungen einerseits und eben der „Globalisierung“ andererseits. Auf konzeptuellem Parkett könnte man noch einen Schritt weitergehen: In vorkolonialer Zeit dürften Ost- und Südchinesisches Meer nicht so eng miteinander verknüpft und als Austauschräume darum in sich geschlossener gewesen sein. Ab der zweiten Hälfte des 16. Jahrhunderts wurden sie von Fremden, den Europäern, immer mehr „aufgebrochen“. Das gilt besonders für das Südchinesische Meer. Fast könnte man daher von einer beginnenden „Ent-Mediterranisierung“ sprechen, denn jene Kräfte, welche von außen auf die bestehenden Systeme einwirkten, sollten langfristig an relativer Bedeutung gewinnen. Taiwan, so wäre abschließend zu bemerken, geriet von Anfang an in diese Entwicklung hinein: Es wurde, bildlich gesprochen, von einer Art „Transformationsstrudel“ gepackt, den mehrere externe Faktoren mit ausgelöst hatten. Besetzt und eigenverwaltet: die Zheng-Herrschaft Und dennoch – im ausgehenden 16. und frühen 17. Jahrhundert war Taiwan sicher noch keine „echte“ Brücke zwischen unterschiedlichen Kulturen, vielmehr fungierte es als kommerzielles Bindeglied und kleiner Dominostein im Spiel interregional auftretender bzw. global planender Mächte, wie wir sahen. Dies sollte sich Mitte des 17. Jahrhunderts ändern – mit dem Fall der niederländischen Stützpunkte an den Zheng-Klan (䝣). Hatte sich die spanische und niederländische Präsenz auf einige Orte beschränkt, gelang es den Zheng-Anhängern jetzt, sich über weite Teile des taiwanesischen Westens auszubreiten und dort eine eigene Verwaltung zu errichten, nach chinesischem Vorbild, aber unabhängig von den Behörden auf dem Festland. Das erste Mal in der Geschichte verfügte die Insel damit über eine separate, für ihre Taiwan als Barriere und Brücke 37 Zeit durchaus moderne Herrschaftsstruktur, die ihr freilich von außen aufgezwungen worden war – und zwar abermals nicht unbedingt zum Vorteil der autochthonen Bevölkerung. Hier mag eingewendet werden, daß die autochthonen, nichtchinesischen Ethnien auf Taiwan schon lange davor eigene soziale Strukturen entwickelt und sich selbst „verwaltet“ hätten. Dies ist ganz gewiß richtig, doch von früher Staatenbildung zu sprechen, wäre sicher unangemessen. Staatlichkeit ist – nach gängigem Verständnis – an bestimmte Elemente gebunden, von denen vermutlich nur wenige auf Taiwan realisiert worden waren. Den ersten „richtigen“ Staat, den Taiwan kannte, baute somit der Zheng-Klan auf. Das Zheng-Gebilde glich einem eigenartigen Zwitter. Es verstand sich einerseits als Erbe der alten Ming-Dynastie, die 1644 aus Beijing verdrängt und schließlich im Gebiet von Yunnan und Myanmar nach jahrelangen Kämpfen vernichtet worden war, andererseits agierte es wie eine selbständige Entität, die sich vom „eigentlichen“ China unterschied. Ihre demographischen Wurzeln reichten nach Fujian hinüber; dort blieben denn auch etliche kleine Inseln im Küstenraum unter ZhengEinfluß, außerdem entstammten viele Migranten, die dem Zheng-Staat dienten oder in ihm lebten, ebendieser Provinz. Auf Taiwan selbst mußte sich das neue Gebilde gegen den Widerstand autochthoner Gruppen behaupten. Das bedeutete auch: Erschließung neuer Landflächen und fortschreitende Besiedlung. Diese Phase der Inselgeschichte erinnert somit abermals an den Fall Hainan. Auch hier kam es über lange Zeiträume zu einer Teilsinisierung auf Kosten einheimischer Gruppen und somit zu Konflikten, allerdings in der Regel provoziert durch die chinesische Zentralmacht im Norden, nicht durch eine Resistance-Gruppe oder ein (quasi-)unabhängiges Staatsgebilde. Doch damit ist noch nicht alles gesagt. Der Zheng-Klan ging mehrfach militärisch gegen das Festland vor, er kooperierte vorübergehend mit den Briten, die inzwischen ebenfalls in Ost- und Südostasien Handel trieben, und er errichtete, wie es bereits das alte Ryukyu-Reich getan hatte, ein eigenes Handelsnetz, welches von Japan bis hinunter nach Südostasien reichte. In dieser Funktion repräsentierte er gewissermaßen die alte Rolle Fujians, gegen die Interessen der herrschenden ManjuDynastie, der Qing, mit einer Besonderheit allerdings – nämlich daß die maritime Schaltzentrale der Region jetzt nicht mehr am Westufer der Taiwan-Straße lag, sondern auf deren insularer Ostseite – gleichsam ins Exil verschoben. Familiäre und kommerzielle Bande – internationalen Zuschnitts, wie angedeutet – verliehen diesem Gebilde eine eigene Prägung, obschon es seine überwiegend fujianesische Kennung, so dürfen wie annehmen, bis zum Ende beibehielt. Just hier wird auch – erstmals in Taiwans Geschichte – eine Art multidimensionaler Brückenfunktion spürbar: Der Zheng-Staat lebte vor allem vom Handel und damit vom Austausch zwischen jenen Makroregionen, die eingangs beschrieben worden waren, dem Ost- und dem Südchinesischen Meer. Kurz, er gab nach Süden weiter, was aus dem Norden kam, und umgekehrt, und er versuchte, so gut dies ging, zugleich die Kontakte mit der fujianesische Heimat, nach Macau und anderen Orten zu pflegen. Dabei ging es nicht allein um den reinen Warenaustausch, sondern 38 Roderich Ptak Dabei ging es nicht allein um den reinen Warenaustausch, sondern ebenso um kulturellen Transfer. Die alten Seerouten – xi hanglu, dong hanglu und die nordwärts gerichteten Trassen – liefen jetzt im übrigen an der taiwanesischen Westseite zusammen, also nicht mehr in erster Linie vor der Küste Fujians. Taiwan war damit zu einem maritimen Zentrum, fast zu einem Handelsstaat geworden. Mit dem Dynastienwechsel in China gingen natürlich noch andere Entwicklungen einher, die für das Gesamtbild von Bedeutung sind und Taiwans neue Rolle begünstigten. Hier ist vor allem an Japan zu denken. Die Tokugawa-Administration hatte sich schon einige Jahrzehnte zuvor gegen die Christen im eigenen Land gewandt, schließlich fror sie die Auslandskontakte weitestgehend ein und kappte sogar die Verbindungen zu Spaniern und Portugiesen. Aus „südlichen“ Ländern durften fortan nur noch chinesische und niederländische Schiffe nach Kyushu kommen. Da zudem die Manju-Verwaltung Chinas Küsten in den 1660er Jahren vorübergehend abriegelte, wurde die chinesische Schiffahrt, die vom Zheng-Staat ausging, für Japan umso wichtiger. Das wiederum stärkte die neuartige Brückenfunktion Taiwans. Zu dieser Zeit spielte das alte Ryukyu-Netzwerk keine große Rolle mehr, weder für Taiwan selbst, noch in der Taiwan-Straße. Auch die Route entlang der taiwanesischen Pazifikküste verlor vermutlich wieder an Bedeutung, zumal es für ZhengSchiffe kaum Gründe gab, auf einer direkten Linie zwischen Japan und Südostasien zu verkehren, und die iberischen Schiffe ebenso ausblieben. Nahezu alle Verbindungen zwischen Nord und Süd liefen jetzt, um es zu wiederholen, über Zwischenstationen am Westufer Taiwans. Letzteres kam dem Zheng-Staat zugute, doch gleichzeitig verlor die Welt des Ostchinesischen Meeres insgesamt an Attraktivität, zumal Japan und die chinesische Küste für viele Außenstehende unzugänglich blieben. Nur die VOC unterhielt als externe Kraft, als einziger Nichtanrainer des Ostchinesischen Meeres sozusagen, weiterhin Kontakte nach Japan, die freilich jenen, welche der Zheng-Staat pflegte, in vielerlei Hinsicht nachstanden. Die oben vorgetragene Überlegung, möglicherweise habe im frühen 17. Jahrhundert oder bereits zuvor eine Art „EntMediterranisierung“ eingesetzt, wäre damit also – mit Bezug auf Nordostasien wenigstens – wohl wieder in Frage zu stellen. Anders ausgedrückt: Das Ostchinesische Meer kehrte vorübergehend zu seinem alten Rhythmus zurück, wobei die chinesische Seefahrt, die Nord und Süd miteinander verzahnte, nun weniger von Fujian ausging, als eben von Taiwan, obschon die eigentlichen Träger dieser Verbindungen vermutlich mehrheitlich aus Fujian stammten. Anzufügen wäre noch, daß ihre Rolle an die der Ryukyu-Händler im 15. Jahrhundert erinnerte, denn beide Gruppen, die Zheng-Chinesen wie die RyukyuHändler jener Epoche, unterhielten zu ihrer Zeit jeweils ausgedehnte Handelsnetze, die Ost- und Südchinesisches Meer miteinander verbanden, wobei zuerst Okinawa und später Taiwan die eigentlichen Verschiebezentralen bildeten. Und in beiden Fällen war das chinesische Festland nicht uneingeschränkt zugänglich, wie zugleich entsprechende Faktoren am japanischen Ende zum Tragen kamen. Taiwan als Barriere und Brücke 39 Peripherer Zwitter: Taiwan unter Manju-Kontrolle Bei den obigen Ausführungen wurden die maritimen Kontakte zwischen Japan und Korea sowie zwischen Korea und China nicht berücksichtigt. Das kann insofern legitimiert werden, als sie in technisch-definitorischer Hinsicht zu den internen Verbindungen zählten, die aus der nordostasiatischen Region selbst hervorgingen. Externe Mächte – Portugiesen, Spanier, Niederländer und andere – unterhielten im 16. und 17. Jahrhundert keine regelmäßigen Beziehungen nach Korea, Shandong oder Liaodong. Anders das Bild im Südchinesischen Meer und Südostasien im allgemeinen. Hier blieben die lokalen Gruppen nicht unter sich. Vielmehr bauten die Europäer ihre Positionen mit großem Nachdruck aus, ersetzten gar die eine oder andere asiatische Macht, nahmen Land in Besitz und intensivierten zudem die Außenkontakte der Region, etwa durch verstärkte Nutzung der transpazifischen Wege oder der direkte Route vom Kap zur Sunda-Straße. Der südostasiatische Austauschraum nahm also eine etwas andere Entwicklung als die Gebiete nördlich von Taiwan. Diese Konstellation sollte sich auf die Orientierung der chinesischen Seefahrt auswirken. Das Zheng-„Imperium“, so scheint es, wandte sich insgesamt mehr den südlichen Zonen zu als dem Norden. Die europäisch geführten Häfen in Südostasien, vor allem Manila und Batavia, zogen langfristig viele Chinesen an, und auch in anderen Orten, die eher der Kategorie freier emporia zugeordnet werden können, waren Chinesen in der Regel willkommen. Dazu gehörten etliche muslimische Häfen, etwa in der Sulu-Zone oder entlang der malaiischen Ostküste. Trotz dieser an sich günstigen Ausgangslage blieb das Zheng-„Imperium“ auf Taiwan ein künstliches und in mancherlei Hinsicht ebenso fragiles Gebilde. Selbst der Sieg über die VOC – die Niederländer wurden in den frühen 1660er Jahren vertrieben – konnte darüber nicht hinwegtäuschen. Denn bald holte der Manju-Staat auf, baute seine eigenen Seestreitkräfte aus und setzte die Zheng-Regierung zunehmend unter Druck. Da diese zugleich unter inneren Problemen litt, zerbrach sie schließlich. Damit wurde Taiwan, wie zuvor Hainan unter den Mongolen, dem Terrain einer über das Festland herrschenden Zentralmacht einverleibt – erstmalig in seiner Geschichte. Eine externe Kraft, der Manju-Staat, hatte also eine andere vertrieben, gleichsam auf ganzer Fläche. Auch das ist in Taiwans Geschichte als etwas Neues anzusehen, denn die Vernichtung der Niederländer war im wesentlichen an einem kurzen Küstenabschnitt erfolgt, hatte also nicht größere Landstriche getroffen. Den Manjus gelang es recht bald, weite Teile der Insel unter ihre Kontrolle zu bringen. Da das Zheng-Imperium nun nicht mehr existierte, lockerten sie zugleich die Bestimmungen für den internationalen Seehandel. Das kam vor allem der Provinz Fujian zugute. Bald stachen chinesische Schiffe wieder von dort aus in See, Taiwans Sonderrolle als Drehscheibe für den Verkehr zwischen Nord- und Südostasien wurde damit unterlaufen. In der Folge gewann die Westseite der TaiwanStraße erneut an Gewicht, während die Ostseite wirtschaftlich an relativer Bedeutung verlor. 40 Roderich Ptak Während der letzten Jahre des 17. Jahrhunderts und danach, im 18. Jahrhundert, wanderten trotzdem immer wieder Menschen von Fujian nach Taiwan aus. Unter ihnen fanden sich neben den eigentlichen Fujianesen häufig Angehörige von HakkaGruppen, die eigene Traditionen pflegten. Gleichzeitig blühten die Verbindungen zwischen Fujian auf der einen Seite und den Häfen Japans und Südostasiens auf der anderen Seite. Händler und Auswanderungswillige, die Fujian verlassen wollten, hatten daher die Wahl zwischen verschiedenen Zielregionen, wenn sie von Xiamen ড়䮶 oder Zhangzhou ╩ᐔ aus in See stachen. Taiwan bildete demnach nur eine von mehreren Gegenden, auf die sich chinesische Blicke richteten. Dadurch daß Taiwan formal dem Manju-Staat unterstand, unterschied es sich freilich von den übrigen Gebieten. Aus Sicht der Zentrale im nördlichen Beijing bildete es allerdings nur ein peripheres Element, das gleichsam von Fujian aus erschlossen wurde, wobei Fujian selbst zu den Randzonen des Imperiums zählte, das seinerseits aus mehreren großen Segmenten bestand, nämlich dem Hanchinesischen Teil, der Mongolei, Tibet, den manjurischen Stammlanden und einigen anderen Gebieten. Überspitzt formuliert war Taiwan folglich eine „Kolonie“ unter Fujian, und Fujian selbst glich einer Kolonie unter der Han-„Zone“, die wiederum als eine von mehreren gleichrangigen Räumen innerhalb des Manju-Staates angesehen werden kann. Das erinnert ein wenig an die frühere spanische Präsenz auf Taiwan: Santísima Trinidad und andere Niederlassungen bildeten damals „Anhängsel“ Manilas – seinerseits Kolonie unter der Kolonie Mexiko, die wiederum – ebenfalls im Rahmen einer „kompartmentalisierten“ Struktur – an der langen Leine habsburgischer Herrschaft lief. Demnach war Taiwan unter den Qing – in rein funktionaler Hinsicht und mit den Augen der übergeordneten Zentrale gesehen – bisweilen so stark marginalisiert wie nie zuvor in seiner Geschichte und auch niemals mehr danach, obgleich ja die Han-Besiedlung jetzt erst richtig begann. Aus der Perspektive derer, denen es ein Anliegen ist, die Manju-Herrschaft über Teile Ostasiens als eine quasi-chinesische zu betrachten, bietet sich natürlich ein anderes Bild: Taiwan wurde schlicht und einfach durch China in toto erschlossen. Die Heranführung der Insel an das chinesische Festland ging, wie bereits angedeutet, mit gewissen Verschiebungen im internationalen Seeverkehr einher. Taiwans Rolle als multifunktionale Brücke zwischen Nord- und Südostasien war nun nicht mehr so wichtig, diese Funktion wechselte wieder zurück auf die andere Seite der Taiwan-Straße, nach Fujian. Wenig änderte sich dagegen am japanischen Ende, und das Ostchinesische Meer folgte im großen und ganzen seiner alten Rhythmik. Südostasien wiederum blieb auf „Internationalisierungskurs“ und wurde weiterhin sehr viel direkter in die Weltwirtschaft integriert, also mehr und mehr „entmediterranisiert“, wenn die obige Terminologie akzeptiert werden kann. Die verstärkte Hinwendung der Fujianesen zu den Häfen und Küsten Südostasiens, in denen große Gewinne und neue Arbeitsplätze winkten, setzte sich daher fort. Folglich stand dieser Teil der Welt nicht nur unter der Fuchtel rivalisierender europäischer Gruppen – fast könnte man ihn ebenso als koloniale Zone Chinas betrachten, mit Taiwan als Barriere und Brücke 41 der Besonderheit allerdings, daß sich der Manju-Staat nicht wirklich um die Interessen seiner Han-chinesischen Untertanen im Ausland kümmerte und schon gar nicht um die Anliegen all jener, die der fujianesischen Peripherie entstammten. Allein Taiwan bildete in dieser Hinsicht eine geostrategische Ausnahme, denn diese Insel gehörte ja nun einmal zum Qing-Imperium. Schluß Taiwans Geschicke sind in vielen Studien skizziert worden. Die obigen Ausführungen haben zeigen können, so jedenfalls hofft der Verfasser, wie sich die Funktion der Insel allmählich wandelte. Vieles blieb dabei unerwähnt, etwa die gelegentlichen Besuche taiwanesischer Seefahrender in Fujian oder frühe Migrationen am Südrand der „einheimischen“ Welt. Doch diese Elemente würden im Gesamtkontext des Geschehens – und für die Funktionsanalyse im allgemeinen – wohl kaum eine Rolle spielen. Die hier vorgetragenen Argumente sind darum auf das Wesentliche – oder das augenscheinlich Zentrale – konzentriert worden. Daß die gewählte Sichtweise vielleicht ein wenig einseitig ausfiel, liegt somit gleichsam in der Sache an sich. Gleich wie – festgestellt wurde, daß Taiwan zunächst einer Barriere zwischen zwei maritimen Zonen glich, die nahezu ausschließlich über die Westseite der Taiwan-Straße miteinander kommunizierten. Später avancierte Taiwan zu einer Art Brücke, welche vor allem von den Fujianesen betrieben wurde. Diese Brücke stand vorübergehend im internationalen Rampenlicht, bildete dann für einige Jahrzehnte eine unabhängige Einheit, nur um schließlich formal an das Festland angeschlossen und in gewissem Sinne marginalisiert zu werden. Dabei ergaben sich verschiedene Wechselwirkungen zwischen der Insel selbst und den angrenzenden maritimen Zonen im Norden und Süden. Dieser Prozeß, vergleichbar vielleicht einer Kette von Transformationen, kann auch in späteren Zeiten beobachtet werden. Vermutlich wird er erst mittelfristig einen Abschluß finden – sofern es Beijing und Taibei gelingt, eine einvernehmliche Lösung für die sogenannte „Taiwan-Frage“ zu finden. 42 Roderich Ptak Ausgewählte Sekundärwerke Alvarez, José M., Formosa geográfica e históricamente considerada. 2 Bde. (Barcelona: Luís Gili, 1930). Andrade, Tonio, How Taiwan became Chinese. Dutch, Spanish, and Han Colonization in the Seventeenth Century. Elektronisches Buch. (www.gutenberg-e.org/andrade/, Zugriff im Oktober 2007). Borao, Mateo J. E., Spaniards in Taiwan. Documents. 2 Bde. (Taibei: SMC Publishing, 2001– 2002). Cai Pingli 㭗ᒩ㄁, Penghu tongshi ◄⒌䙐ਨ. (Taibei: Zhongwen tushu gufen youxian gongsi, 1959). Cao Yonghe ᴯ≮ૂ, Taiwan caoqi lishi yanjiu xuji ਦ⚙ᰟᵕ↭ਨ⹊ガ. (Taibei: Lianjing chuban gongsi, 2000). Taiwan yanjiu congkan ਦ⚙⹊ガਘࡀ. Carioti, Patrizia, Zheng Chenggong. (Napoli: Istituto Universitario Orientale, 1995; chin. Üb. Nanning: Guangxi renmin chubanshe 1997). Chen Xinxiong 䲩‫ؗ‬䳺 und Chen Yunü 䲩⦿ྩ (Hg.), Zheng He xia Xiyang guoji xueshu yantaohui lunwenji 䝣ૂс㾵⍁ു䳑ᆮ㺉⹊䁄ᴹ䄌ᮽ䳼 . (Taibei: Daoxiang chubanshe, 2003). Deeg, Max, Das Gaoseng-Faxian-Zhuan als religionsgeschichtliche Quelle. Der älteste Bericht eines chinesischen buddhistischen Pilgermönchs über seine Reise nach Indien mit Übersetzung des Textes. (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2005). Studies in Oriental Religions 52. Delgado, L. und D. Delgado, „La presencia española en Formosa“, Revista de Historia Naval 10.37 (1992), S. 55–72. Haijiaoshi yanjiu ⎭Ӛਨ⹊ガ, Zeitschrift, mehrere Bände. Knapp, Ronald G. (Hg.), China’s Island Frontier. Studies in the Historical Geography of Taiwan. (Honolulu: Hawai’i University Press, 1980). Liao Dake ᔌཝ⧸, Fujian haiwai jiaotong shi ⿅ᔰ⎭ཌӚ䙐ਨ. (Fuzhou: Fujian renmin chubanshe, 2002). Linck-Kesting, Gudula, Ein Kapitel chinesischer Grenzgeschichte. Han und Nicht-Han im Taiwan der Qing-Zeit 1683–1895. (Stuttgart: Franz Steiner, 1979). Münchener Ostasiatische Studien 22. Ollé, Manel, La invención de China. Percepciones y estrategias filipinas respecto a China durante el siglo XVI. (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag, 2000). South China and Maritime Asia 9. Ptak, Roderich, „China and Portugal at Sea: The Early Ming System and the Estado da Índia Compared“, Revista de Cultura (Review of Culture) (Macau) 13/14 (1991), S. 21–38 (=Spezialnr., Os mares da Ásia, 1500-1800: Sociedades locais, portugueses e expansão europeia). Ptak, Roderich, „Chinesische Wahrnehmungen des Seeraumes vom Südchinesischen Meer bis zur Küste Ostafrikas, ca. 1000-1500“, in Dietmar Rothermund u. Susanne Weigelin-Schwiedrzik (Hg.), Der Indische Ozean. Das afro-asiatische Mittelmeer als Kultur- und Wirtschaftsraum (Wien: Verein für Geschichte und Sozialkunde; ProMedia, 2004; Edition Weltregionen 9), S. 37–59. Ptak, Roderich, „Jottings on Chinese Sailing Routes to Southeast Asia, Especially on the Eastern Route in Ming Times“, in Jorge M. dos Santos Alves (Hg.), Portugal e a China. Conferências nos encontros de história luso-chinesa (Lissabon: Fundação Oriente, 2001), S. 107–131. Ptak, Roderich, „Ming Maritime Trade to Southeast Asia, 1368-1567: Visions of a System“, in Claude Guillot, Denys Lombard und Roderich Ptak (Hg.), Richard Teschke (Assis- Taiwan als Barriere und Brücke 43 tent), From the Mediterranean to the China Sea: Miscellaneous Notes (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 1998; South China and Maritime Asia 6), S. 157–192. Ptak, Roderich, “Sino-Japanese Maritime Trade, circa 1550: Merchants, Ports and Networks“, in Roberto Carneiro und A. Teodoro de Matos (Hg.), O século cristão do Japão. Actas do Colóquio Internacional Comemorativo dos 450 Anos de Amizade Portugal-Japão (1543-1993) (Lisboa, 2 a 5 de Novembro de 1993). (Lissabon: Centro de Estudos dos Povos e Culturas de Expressão Portuguesa da Universidade Católica Portuguesa und Instituto de História de Além-Mar da Faculdade de Ciências Sociais e Humanas da Universidade Nova de Lisboa, 1994), S. 281–311. Ptak, Roderich, „Südchinas Häfen und der maritime Handel in Asien, ca. 1600-1750“, Orientierungen, Neue Mitteilungen des Seminars für Orientalische Sprachen der Universität Bonn (2/1991), S. 65–88. Ptak, Roderich, „The Fujianese, Ryukyuans and Portuguese (c. 1511 to 1540s): Allies or Competitors?“, Anais de História de Além-Mar 3 (2002), S. 447–467. Ptak, Roderich, „The Ryukyu Network in the Fifteenth and Early Sixteenth Centuries“, Revista de Cultura (international edition) 6 (2003), S. 7–23. Schottenhammer, Angela, Das songzeitliche Quanzhou im Spannungsfeld zwischen Zentralregierung und maritimem Handel. Unerwartete Konsequenzen des zentralstaatlichen Zugriffs auf den Reichtum einer Küstenregion.( Stuttgart: Franz Steiner, 2002). Münchener Ostasiatische Studien 80. Schottenhammer, Angela (Hg.), Trade and Transfer Across the East Asian „Mediterranean“. (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag, 2005). East Asian Maritime History 1. Struve, Lynn A., The Southern Ming, 1644–1662. (New Haven und London: Yale University Press, 1982). Su Ming-Yang, Seven Epic Voyages of Zheng He in Ming China (1405–1433). Facts, Fiction and Fabrication. (Torrance, 2005; ohne Verlag). Thompson, L. G.: „The Earliest Eyewitness Accounts of the Formosan Aborigines“, Monumenta Serica 23 (1964), S. 163–204. Thompson, L. G., „The Junk Passage across the Taiwan Strait: Two Early Chinese Accounts“, Harvard Journal of Asiatic Studies 28 (1968), S. 170–194. Wang Gungwu und Ng Chin-keong (Hg.), Maritime China in Transition 1750–1850. (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag, 2004). South China and Maritime Asia 12. Wills, John E., Jr., Pepper, Guns and Parleys: The Dutch East India Company and China, 1622– 1681. (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1974). Xu Xiaowang ᗆ᳿ᵑ (Hg.), Fujian tongshi ⿅ᔰ䙐ਨ. 5 Bde. (Fuzhou: Fujian renmin chubanshe, 2006). Yang Guozhen ᾀുᾞ, Min zai hai zhong. Zhuixun Fujian haiyang fazhanshi 䯟൞⎭ѣ. 䘳ቁ ⿅ᔰ⎭⍁Ⲳኋਨ. (Nanchang: Jiangxi gaojiao chubanshe, 1998). Haiyang yu Zhongguo congshu ⎭⍁㠽ѣുਘᴮ. Zeng Shaocong ᴴቇ㚦, Dongyang hanglu yimin. Ming Qing haiyang yimin Taiwan yu Feilübin de bijiao yanjiu ᶧ⍁㡠䐥〱≇. ᱄␻⎭⍁〱≇ਦ⚙㠽㨨ᗁ䌉Ⲻ∊䔹⹊ガ. (Nanchang: Jiangxi gaojiao chubanshe, 1998). Haiyang yu Zhongguo congshu ⎭⍁㠽ѣുਘᴮ. Zheng He yanjiu yu huodong jianxun 䝣 ૂ ⹊ ガ 㠽 ⍱ ऋ ㉗ 䁀 , mehrere internet-Nummern, Taibei. Zhongguo haiyang fazhanshi lunwenji ѣു⎭⍁Ⲳኋਨ䄌ᮽ䳼, mehrere Bände, herausgegeben von der Academia Sinica. Formosa But Unattractive: Portuguese Impressions of Taiwan (Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries) Rui Manuel Loureiro The Portuguese first visited the China coast in 1513. Since their arrival in India, fifteen years earlier, the strategy of the Portuguese had been straightforward. First, they had set about establishing secure bases in the major Oriental port-cities, whether by force or by diplomacy, taking advantage of their naval and military capabilities. Then, they tried to identify the main trading routes and to locate the key centres of production and distribution of the most valuable commodities, using local pilots and local knowledge. In less than two decades they were able to establish a vast and efficient network of maritime routes, centred in Goa, on the east coast of India, in order to control or to monitor a significant share of the most lucrative Eastern trades. And so, the Portuguese soon became a permanent feature of the Asian seas.1 After conquering the city of Melaka in 1511, it was only a matter of time before they started exploring the traditional trade routes that for centuries had crossed the South China Sea. Melaka was a vantage point for the collection of valuable intelligence, since it was a crossroads of Oriental peoples and cultures. And it was in this city that Tomé Pires gathered the necessary materials to write his Suma Oriental, the first modern European geographical treatise about the East Indies, concluded in 1515. The Portuguese apothecary had a lot to say about many of the regions surrounding the South China Sea, including in his innovative treatise political, economic, cultural and geographical data on mainland China, which is extensively dealt with, and on Japan, which is briefly mentioned. 2 He also offered information about some islands he names “Lequios”, located somewhere off the Chinese coast; 3 but since he claimed that its king was “a tributary vassal of the king of China” and that its inhabitants traded in Melaka, he was certainly referring to the Ryşkyş archipelago. 4 1 2 3 4 Câmara Municipal de Lagos; Centro de História de Além-Mar, Lisboa. For the establishment of the Estado da Índia, see Sanjay Subrahmanyam, The Portuguese Empire in Asia, 1500–1700: A Political and Economic History. (London: Longman, 1993), pp. 55–79; and Luís Filipe Barreto, Lavrar o Mar: Os Portugueses e a Ásia, c. 1480–c. 1630. (Lisbon: Comissão Nacional para as Comemorações dos Descobrimentos Portugueses), pp. 15–59. Armando Cortesão (ed.), The Suma Oriental of Tomé Pires and the Book of Francisco Rodrigues, 2 vols. (New Delhi: Asian Educational Services, 1990), pp. 116–128 and pp. 131–133, respectively. Armando Cortesão (ed.), The Suma Oriental (1990), pp. 128–131. See Roderich Ptak, “The Fujianese, Ryukyuans and Portuguese (c. 1511 to 1540’s): Allies or 46 Rui Manuel Loureiro However, a map prepared by Francisco Rodrigues around 1512–1513, on the basis of materials also collected in Melaka, shows a long island with the inscription “This is the principal island of the Lequeos. They say that there you can find wheat and copper artefacts”.5 It has been suggested that this could be the first European cartographic depiction of the island later known as Formosa, notwithstanding the fact that the mentioned products were in no way abundant there at the time.6 Not many years after the occupation of Melaka, the Portuguese authorities dispatched a large naval expedition to China under the command of Fernão Peres de Andrade, which remained in the Guangdong waters between 1517 and 1518.7 One of the captains, Jorge de Mascarenhas, was sent with one ship on a survey mission along the Chinese coast, with instructions to locate the Léquios; but due to weather conditions he only sailed as far as Fujian, which the Portuguese styled Chinchéu.8 It is not impossible that the Portuguese then had their first sighting of Formosa, but no clear testimony has survived. After the failure of the embassy of Tomé Pires, disembarked in Guangzhou in the course of this expedition, official relations with the Chinese authorities deteriorated, and the Portuguese were expelled from the Guangdong area. 9 In the following decades, usually in association with Chinese partners, Portuguese merchants and adventurers illegally frequented the coasts of Fujian on a regular basis, until in the early 1540’s they reached the southern islands of the Japanese archipelago for the first time.10 The Portuguese were quick to grasp the opportunities opened up by their arrival in Japan, soon becoming indispensable middlemen in the trade between Chinese silk and Japanese silver, which until then, for conjunctural reasons, had been officially banned by the authorities of the Middle Kingdom. The technological characteristics of their ships and their weapons gave them the necessary leverage to contend with Asian competitors in the South China Sea. In the course of their frequent trading ventures along the South China coast, in the 1530’s and 1540’s, the Portuguese repeatedly sighted the large island which they first styled Lequio Pequeno 5 6 7 8 9 10 Competitors?”, Anais de História de Além-Mar 3 (2002), pp. 447–467; and also Roderich Ptak, “The Ryukyu network in the Fifteenth and Early Sixteenth Centuries”, Revista de Cultura / Review of Culture 6 (2003), pp. 16–20. Armando Cortesão (ed.), The Suma Oriental (1990), p. 525: “Esta he a primçipal Jlha dos Llequeos / dizem que há nella triguo & obra de cobre”. Cf. Mário de Albuquerque (ed.), Atlas du Vicomte de Santarém. (Lisbon: Administração do Porto de Lisboa, 1989), no page numbers. Armando Cortesão (ed.), The Suma Oriental (1990), p. 525. See Rui Manuel Loureiro, Fidalgos, Missionários e Mandarins: Portugal e a China no Século XVI. (Lisbon: Fundação Oriente, 2000), pp. 215–238. See Loureiro, Fidalgos, Missionários e Mandarins (2000), pp. 232–234. See T’ien-Tsê Chang, “Malacca and the failure of the first Portuguese embassy to Peking”, Boletim do Instituto Luís de Camões 15:1/2 (1981), pp. 149–163; and Rui Manuel Loureiro, “A Malograda Embaixada de Tomé Pires a Pequim”, in Jorge Manuel dos Santos Alves (ed.), Portugal e a China – Conferências no II Curso Livre de História das relações entre Portugal e a China (Séculos XVI–XIX). (Lisbon: Fundação Oriente, 1998), pp. 39–55. On the Portuguese arrival in Japan, see Charles R. Boxer, The Christian Century in Japan 1549– 1650. (Manchester: Carcanet Press, 1993), pp. 1–40. Formosa but unattractive 47 (Smaller Liuqiu) and then Formosa (Beautiful). The exact date of its first sighting is not known, since documents about Portuguese contacts with those regions in this period do not abound. Most trading ventures were of a private nature, probably unknown to the authorities of the Portuguese Estado da Índia, which were based in Goa and in Melaka. The notorious Portuguese traveller Fernão Mendes Pinto repeatedly sailed from the Malayan Peninsula to China and to Japan between 1540 and 1550. But in his voluminous book of memories, the Peregrinaçam, published many years later, no references to Formosa are to be found, although one important shipwreck episode is located in the Ryşkyş Islands.11 Around 1555, after reaching an informal agreement with the Guangdong mandarins, the Portuguese were allowed to establish a secure base in Macau, where, from then on, all their trading activities with the Chinese were concentrated.12 From there, they had clear access to the Guangzhou bi-annual trade fairs. Also, they could easily sail from Macau to the ports of Kyushu in the proper monsoon, reducing the risks of shipwreck or of confrontation with Chinese maritime authorities. Immediately after the founding of Macau, and denoting an increase in shipping movement along the Formosa Straits, the Beautiful Island starts to appear regularly in Portuguese cartography produced in Goa or in Lisbon. Such is the case of the chart of East Asia prepared by Diogo Homem in 1558, where a chain of islands represented off the China coast includes “I[lha] Fermosa”.13 The same “I[lha] Fermosa” appears again in an anonymous chart prepared two years later and included in the Livro de Marinharia de João de Lisboa; 14 or in another chart of East Asia included in the 1563 Atlas Universal drawn by Lázaro Luís.15 In some charts, as those produced by the celebrated cartographer Fernão Vaz Dourado in Goa in the 1570’s, Formosa appears divided in two or three different sections, which are named “llequio peqeno”.16 Sometimes, both names are used simultaneously by the Portuguese cartographers. Such is the case of the chart drawn by Bartolomeu Lasso in the early 1590’s, which found its way into the Itinerario by Dutch traveller Jan Huygen van Linschoten, published in Amsterdam in 1596: alongside “Lequeo pequeno” it is possible to spot the “I[lha] Fermosa”.17 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 Fernão Mendes Pinto, The Travels of Mendes Pinto, ed. & trans. Rebecca D. Catz. (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1989), chs. 138–143, pp. 288–301. See Rui Manuel Loureiro, Em Busca das Origens de Macau. (Macau: Museu Marítimo de Macau, 1997), pp. 21–61. Alfredo Pinheiro Marques, A Cartografia Portuguesa do Japão (Séculos XVI–XVII) / The Portuguese Cartography of Japan (16th and 17th Centuries). (Lisbon: Imprensa Nacional – Casa da Moeda, 1996), p. 81 (plate 13). Alfredo Pinheiro Marques, A Cartografia Portuguesa (1996), p. 115 (plate 30). Alfredo Pinheiro Marques, A Cartografia Portuguesa (1996), p. 125 (plate 35). Alfredo Pinheiro Marques, A Cartografia Portuguesa (1996), p. 145 (plate 45). Jan Huygen van Linschoten, Itinerário, Viagem ou Navegação de Jan Huygen van Linschoten para as Índias Orientais ou Portuguesas, ed. Arie Pos & Rui Manuel Loureiro. (Lisbon: Comissão Nacional para as Comemorações dos Descobrimentos Portugueses, 1997), plate 39. 48 Rui Manuel Loureiro But apart from these cartographic representations, not much else transpires from Portuguese contemporary sources, indicating that the huge island of Formosa was mostly ignored by the numerous Portuguese ships that regularly travelled the route from Macau to Nagasaki, which became their Japanese port-of-call in the early 1570’s. The Léquio Pequeno was obviously uninteresting to the Portuguese, who were mainly concerned with busy port-cities and with luxury commodities, none of which could be found on Formosa. The origin of these names is still the subject of speculation. Lequio Pequeno could derive from the Chinese designation of the island, Xiao Liu Qiu, which the Portuguese navigators learned from their Chinese collaborators, and which meant literally “Lesser Liu Qiu”, as opposed to Da Liu Qiu, or Léquio Grande, the “Greater Liu Qiu”, which in Portuguese cartography consistently refers to the Ryşkyş Islands. 18 Formosa, on the other hand, apparently must have been derived from the flourishing vegetation that could be seen from board the ships sailing along its coasts, in the course of voyages to and from the Japanese archipelago, as it is hinted by the Jesuit Alonso Sanchez, in an account written in the 1580’s.19 But in spite of its scenic formosura, the island remained essentially unattractive to the Portuguese. In the earlier part of the 16th century, mostly the same thing had happened with the archipelago later styled Philippines, which the Portuguese visited sporadically, represented on their charts, but where they never tried to establish permanent bases.20 The Portuguese probably contacted Formosa on some occasions before the 1580’s, whether by accident, due to shipping hazards, or deliberately, for purposes of exploring the hinterland or in search of provisions. But no trace of such visits has been found. The first documented Portuguese landfall on Formosan territory occurred in July 1582, when a large junk outbound from Macau, under Captain André Feio, accidentally ran aground near the south-western tip of the island. Several Jesuit missionaries who were on board, on their way to Japan, later wrote accounts of the journey, 21 including Francisco Pires and Pedro Gomez, and also Alonso Sanchez, who had come from Manila to Macau with the official news of the 18 19 20 21 Léon Bourdon & Luís de Albuquerque (eds.), Le “Livro de Marinharia” de Gaspar Moreira. (Lisbon: Junta de Investigações Científicas do Ultramar, 1977), pp. 126–127, n. 21. Francisco Colín, Labor Evangélica de los Obreros de la Compañía de Jesús en las Islas Filipina, ed. Pablo Pastells, 3 vols. (Barcelona: Henrich y Compañía, 1900–1902), vol. 1, p. 299, n. 1: “una ysla que llaman hermosa por la linda aparencia que tiene desta parte de montañas altas y verdes”. On Portuguese contacts with the Philippines, see José Manuel Garcia, As Filipinas na Historiografia Portuguesa do Século XVI / Philippines in Portuguese XVIth Century Historiography. (Porto: CEPESA, 2003), passim. Cf. José Manuel Garcia (ed.), Cartas que os padres e irmãos da Companhia de Iesus escreuerão dos Reynos de Iapão & China [1598], 2 vols. (Maia: Castoliva Editora, 1997), fls. 82v–85v; Joseph F. Schütte (ed.), Monumenta Historica Japoniae I. (Rome: Institutum Historicum Societatis Iesu, 1975), pp. 387–391; Colín, Labor Evangélica (1900–1902), vol. 1, pp. 299–301; and Luís Fróis, História de Japam, ed. Josef Wicki, 5 vols. (Lisbon: Biblioteca Nacional, 1976–1984), vol. 3, pp. 286–291. Formosa but unattractive 49 union that had just taken place in Europe, in the preceding year, between the Portuguese and the Spanish crowns under King Felipe II. A passage from a letter by Pedro Gomez, dated December 1582, contains an interesting statement: “our ship stumbled upon a savage island and coast, where I’m not sure if the Portuguese ever disembarked, which is named Léquio Pequeno”. 22 Alonso Sanchez confirms this view, writing that the Portuguese had been sailing between the Chinese coast and “Hermosa”, on their way to Japan, for nearly forty years, without ever having set foot on it.23 The mixed group of about 300 people, including, among others, Portuguese, Chinese, Spanish and Japanese, stayed on the coast of Formosa for several months, until they were able to built some improvised sailing craft, on which they made the journey back to Macau in September of the same year. During their forced residence on the island, they came into contact with the local population, whom the Jesuits describe in some detail. Pedro Gomez states that the Formosans went around almost naked, with loose hair down to their ears. They were armed with bows and arrows,24 and, according to Francisco Pires, they were excellent deer hunters, selling the hides to Chinese traders who visited the island every so often.25 Curiously enough, Perez mentions that the Portuguese “did not know what kind of people” they were dealing with, or even if “they ate human flesh”, a clear sign that this must have been one of their first visits to Formosa. 26 Francisco Pires adds that the Portuguese named the local inhabitants “Cateos (because they constantly used this word)”.27 Years later, in 1596, the Portuguese nau of Rui Mendes de Figueiredo, on its way to Japan, was becalmed for a few days off the same region of Formosa, which means that the sailing route between Macau and Nagasaki sometimes followed along the west coast of the island. 28 This is confirmed by the Livro de Marinharia de Gaspar Moreira, a compendium of sailing instructions completed around 1596, which includes a “Roteiro de Macao pera Japão”. This nautical rutter mentions, as being two different islands, the Léquio Pequeno, “a long and high stretch of land”, and also “Fermosa”, a “stretch of land higher than all the others”.29 Which means that Formosa Island, until the closing years of the sixteenth century, remained outside Portuguese interests, only a passing landscape for the passengers of the Great Ship from Macau. 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 José Manuel Garcia (ed.), Cartas de Japão (1997), vol. 2, fl. 83: “demos cõ o junco em húa ilha & costa braua, onde não sei se deraõ nunca Portugueses, que se chama Liqueo piqueno”. Francisco Colín, Labor Evangélica (1900–1902), vol. 1, p. 299, n. 1. José Manuel Garcia (ed.), Cartas de Japão (1997), vol. 2, fl. 83v. Joseph F. Schütte (ed.), Monumenta Historica (1975), pp. 390–391. José Manuel Garcia (ed.), Cartas de Japão (1997), vol. 2, fl. 83v. Joseph F. Schütte (ed.), Monumenta Historica (1975), p. 388. Charles R. Boxer, The Great Ship from Amacon. (Lisbon: Centro de Estudos Históricos Ultramarinos, 1963), p. 59. Léon Bourdon & Luís de Albuquerque (eds.), Le Livro de Marinharia (1977), pp. 126–127. 50 Rui Manuel Loureiro Meantime, the opening years of the seventeenth century witnessed the arrival of the Dutch on the South China Sea.30 Attentive to the mechanics of eastern trades, the Dutch were quick to grasp the enormous importance of China, both as an importer of silver, spices and scented woods, and as an exporter of such valuable commodities as silk and porcelain. The first Dutch visit to Macau took place in 1601. But, with very few exceptions, all the men that went ashore were almost immediately executed by the Macanese authorities. The Portuguese were afraid that any European interference in their dealings with the Chinese might upset the terms of the informal agreement that allowed for the existence, and the prosperity, of Macau on the southern borders of the Celestial Empire. In the late 1570’s, when the Spanish, recently arrived in Manila, had tried to establish a permanent outpost on the Chinese littoral, also for trading purposes, the Portuguese had done their best to prevent them from doing so.31 After the Macau incident,32 and following the foundation of the Vereenigde Oostindische Compagnie, or V.O.C., in 1602, the Dutch persistently tried their hand at Macau, regularly threatening the city with their powerful ships and relentlessly haunting Portuguese navigation in the South China Sea, and elsewhere. The Portuguese, however, profiting from Chinese complicities, managed to keep the Dutch away from the Pearl River estuary, until 1622, when a fleet under the command of Cornelis Reijersen made the final and also unsuccessful attempt to conquer Macau.33 It was in the wake of this heavy defeat that the Dutch headed for the Pescadores and later established a fortified outpost “on the small island of Tayouan off the southwest coast of Formosa near modern Tainan”,34 where they would remain for the next four decades. 35 Dutch sources, curiously enough, suggest that there was some sort of Portuguese influence on the island before their arrival, since Formosan deer hunters classified the skins of the game according to their quality: the three 30 31 32 33 34 35 See Ernst van Veen, “VOC Strategies in the Far East (1605–1640)”, Bulletin of Portuguese / Japanese Studies 3 (2001), pp. 85–105. See Manel Ollé, La empresa de China: De la Armada Invencible al Galeón de Manila. (Barcelona: Acantilado, 2002), passim; and also Rui Manuel Loureiro, “Macao and Manila in the context of Iberian-Dutch rivalry in the South China Sea”, in Alan Norman Baxter, Maria Antónia Espadinha & Leonor Diaz de Seabra (eds.), Conference Proceedings of Macao – Philippines Historical Relations. (Macau: Universidade de Macau & CEPESA, 2005), pp. 282–296. On which see Leonard Blussé, “Brief Encounter at Macao”, Modern Asian Studies 22 (1988), pp. 647–664. See Charles R. Boxer, Estudos para a História de Macau – Séculos XVI a XVIII. (Lisbon: Fundação Oriente, 1991), pp. 19–66. Donald F. Lach & Edwin J. van Kley, Asia in the Making of Europe – Volume 3: A Century of Advance, 4 bks. (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1993), vol. 3, bk. 4, p. 1798. About Dutch Formosa, see Ernst van Veen, “How the Dutch Ran a Seventeenth-Century Colony: The Occupation and Loss of Formosa 1624–1662”, Itinerario 20:1 (1996), pp. 59–77; Lach & van Kley, Asia in the Making (1993), vol. 3, bk. 4, pp. 1797–1827; and Tonio Andrade, How Taiwan Became Chinese – Dutch, Spanish, and Han Colonization in the Seventeenth Century. (Gutenberg e-book, Columbia University Press, 2007), www.gutenberg-e.org/Andrade, passim. Formosa but unattractive 51 groups were named “cabessa”, “barriga” and “pee”, Portuguese words for head, belly and foot, testifying at least to some sort of relations between Formosa and Portuguese language traders.36 After 1618, and in response to the Dutch threat, the Portuguese had abandoned their large carracks, which were substituted on most trading ventures in the South China Sea, and especially in the Japan route, by smaller and faster galliots. In this way, risks were shared among several sailing vessels, increasing the frequency of successful journeys.37 The establishment of the Dutch in Formosa kept the Portuguese away from the island. In fact, ships originating from Macau, and on their way to Nagasaki, tried their hardest to avoid any contacts with the Dutch. As a consequence, extant Portuguese sources are rather disappointing in their references to Formosa, with one notable exception, that of the manuscript account of Salvador Dias. A Christian Chinese from Macau, Dias was captured in 1622 on his way to Manila, and he was kept as a prisoner by the Dutch, first in the Pescadores and then in Formosa, for four years. Since he knew Portuguese and written Chinese, he served his captors as “an interpreter in their trade dealings with the Chinese”. During his captivity, Salvador Dias kept a diary in Chinese, where he noted “everything that was of any importance”, and which he later gave to the first governor of Macau, Dom Francisco de Mascarenhas.38 The surviving account includes mainly information of a strategic nature about the Dutch in Formosa, with soundings of the harbours, surveys of the fortresses, the available weaponry, number of Dutch residents with respective functions, number of ships stationed at the harbour, and so on. The Portuguese were particularly worried about the strength of Dutch positions in the island, and so Salvador Dias gave detailed account of the existent fortifications: the main fortress was 200 “passos” by 100 “passos”, with stone and brick walls, and had four strong bulwarks, each with six pieces of artillery; two other smaller forts protected the entry to the harbour and the approach from the hinterland. A two storied warehouse, made of wood planks, was used as a factory, the head merchant being called “Comedor Dallite”, probably a reference to Commodore Gerard De With, governor of Fort Zeelandia between 1625 and 1627. There were about 220 Dutchmen in the Formosan stronghold, “most of them low, vile and dirty people”. The report also gave the size of the Chinese and Japanese communities living near the Dutch establishment, 36 37 38 Thomas O. Höllmann, “Formosa and the Trade in Venison and Deer Skins”, in Roderich Ptak & Dietmar Rothermund (eds.), Emporia, Commodities and Entrepreneurs in Asian Maritime Trade, c. 1400–1750. (Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag, 1991), p. 271. See Boxer, The Great Ship (1963), pp. 95–97. Salvador Dias, “Relação da fortaleza, poder e trato com os chinas, que os olandeses tem na Ilha Fermosa”, in António da Silva Rego (ed.), Documentação Ultramarina Portuguesa, 5 vols. (Lisbon: Centro de Estudos Históricos Ultramarinos, 1960–1967), vol. 2, p. 61. See José Eugénio Borao, “‘Intelligence-gathering’ episodes in the ‘Manila-Macao-Taiwan Triangle’ during the Dutch Wars”, in Baxter, Espadinha & Seabra (eds.), Conference Proceedings (2005), pp. 234–238. 52 Rui Manuel Loureiro which totalled, respectively, 5000 and 160 people.39 The account of Salvador Dias included a drawing of the Dutch settlement in Formosa, which is now lost.40 Most probably, this drawing was sent on to Goa, where it was used by Portuguese cartographers, such as the anonymous author of the Livro das Plantas das Fortalezas, Cidades e Povoações do Estado da India Oriental, prepared around 1635, and which includes a map of Formosa.41 The island of Formosa had been largely ignored by the Portuguese before the Dutch established a secure base there. After 1624 they immediately tried to gather sound intelligence about Dutch movements and about Dutch military strength. Since they maintained regular contacts with Chinese communities along the Fujian coast, from where many of the Chinese inhabitants of Macau originated, it was not difficult to obtain the kind of information they were searching for. Located in a strategic position in the context of the Macau-Nagasaki route, the Dutch settlement in Formosa was closely monitored by the Portuguese. But the island’s inhabitants in themselves, or the local resources, were never perceived by the Portuguese as anything worthy of real interest. Mention must be made that contemporary Chinese views of Formosa presented the island inhabited by uncivilized peoples, dedicated not only to deer hunting but also to headhunting.42 Maybe some eco of these views reached Macau, contributing to the construction of an essentially negative view of Formosa. It must be noted that Salvador Dias, in his account, was of the opinion that Macau and Manila should join forces to expel the Dutch from their Formosan base. Otherwise, they soon would have on the island “a famous emporium with a large settlement of people”, because they maintained regular trade contacts with Fujian and with Japan.43 As a response to news coming from Macau or Manila, the Iberian Crown organized the establishment of a Spanish stronghold in the northern coast of Formosa, which was, however, rather precarious and ephemeral.44 The title of this paper is self-explanatory: the Portuguese named the island of Formosa on account of its scenic beauty, usually glanced from afar, but found no reason whatsoever to settle there or to explore the interior. In fact, the island was 39 40 41 42 43 44 Salvador Dias, “Relação da fortaleza” (1960–1967), pp. 62–64. Salvador Dias, “Relação da fortaleza” (1960–1967), p. 62: “hum porto chamado Taivam aonde agora estão cuyo retrato està pintado avante”. Luís Silveira (ed.), Livro das Plantas das Fortalezas, Cidades e Povoações do Estado da Índia Oriental. (Lisbon: Instituto de Investigação Científica Tropical, 1991), p. 111. See Michel Cartier, “La vision chinoise du Monde: Taiwan dans la littérature géographique chinoise”, in Centre de Recherche Interdisciplinaire de Chantilly (ed.), Appréciation par l’Europe de la Tradition Chinoise à partir du XVIIe Siècle – Actes du IIIe Colloque International de Sinologie. (Paris: Les Belles Lettres, 1983), pp. 1–12; and Tonio Andrade, How Taiwan Became Chinese (2007), ch. 1, pp. 1–15. Salvador Dias, “Relação da fortaleza” (1960–1967), p. 66. See Manel Ollé, “Chineses, Holandeses e Castelhanos em Taiwan (1624–1684)”, Revista de Cultura / Review of Culture 11 (2004), pp. 82–98; and Andrade, How Taiwan Became Chinese, ch. 4, pp. 1–19. Formosa but unattractive 53 found utterly unattractive, and the only Portuguese approaches to it were involuntary, resulting from physical or human constraints, that is, shipwreck or captivity. Two simple reasons explain this option: First, they were mainly interested in busy port-cities and in the trade of luxury commodities; none could be found on Formosa. Second, the Portuguese had obtained since the middle of the sixteenth century a privileged base in Macau, from where they had access to the Guangzhou trade fairs and from where they could sail to sundry destinations in the South China Sea. Logically, there was no use in searching for another point of access to the Chinese mainland. Significantly, their competitors, the Spanish and the Dutch, only settled in Formosa after their efforts to secure a safe base on the China coast had completely failed. Formosa only became attractive for foreigners in despair. BIBLIOGRAPHY Mário de Albuquerque (ed.), Atlas du Vicomte de Santarém. (Lisbon: Administração do Porto de Lisboa, 1989), no page numbers. Tonio Andrade, How Taiwan Became Chinese – Dutch, Spanish, and Han Colonization in the Seventeenth Century. (Gutenberg e-book, Columbia University Press, 2007), www.gutenberg-e.org/Andrade, passim. Luís Filipe Barreto, Lavrar o Mar: Os Portugueses e a Ásia, c. 1480–c. 1630. (Lisbon: Comissão Nacional para as Comemorações dos Descobrimentos Portugueses). Leonard Blussé, “Brief Encounter at Macao”, Modern Asian Studies 22 (1988), pp. 647–664. José Eugénio Borao, “‘Intelligence-gathering’ episodes in the ‘Manila-Macao-Taiwan Triangle’ during the Dutch Wars”, in Alan Norman Baxter, Maria Antónia Espadinha & Leonor Diaz de Seabra (eds.), Conference Proceedings of Macao – Philippines Historical Relations. (Macau: Universidade de Macau & CEPESA, 2005), pp. 234–238. Léon Bourdon & Luís de Albuquerque (eds.), Le “Livro de Marinharia” de Gaspar Moreira. (Lisbon: Junta de Investigações Científicas do Ultramar, 1977). Charles R. Boxer, The Christian Century in Japan 1549–1650. (Manchester: Carcanet Press, 1993). Charles R. Boxer, The Great Ship from Amacon. (Lisbon: Centro de Estudos Históricos Ultramarinos, 1963). Charles R. Boxer, Estudos para a História de Macau – Séculos XVI a XVIII. (Lisbon: Fundação Oriente, 1991). Michel Cartier, “La vision chinoise du Monde: Taiwan dans la littérature géographique chinoise”, in Centre de Recherche Interdisciplinaire de Chantilly (ed.), Appréciation par l’Europe de la Tradition Chinoise à partir du XVIIe Siècle – Actes du IIIe Colloque International de Sinologie. (Paris: Les Belles Lettres, 1983), pp. 1–12. Francisco Colín, Labor Evangélica de los Obreros de la Compañía de Jesús en las Islas Filipinas, ed. Pablo Pastells, 3 vols. (Barcelona: Henrich y Compañía, 1900–1902). Armando Cortesão (ed.), The Suma Oriental of Tomé Pires and the Book of Francisco Rodrigues, 2 vols. (New Delhi: Asian Educational Services, 1990). Salvador Dias, “Relação da fortaleza, poder e trato com os chinas, que os olandeses tem na Ilha Fermosa”, in António da Silva Rego (ed.), Documentação Ultramarina Portuguesa, 5 54 Rui Manuel Loureiro vols. (Lisbon: Centro de Estudos Históricos Ultramarinos, 1960–1967), vol. 2, p. 61– 66. Luís Fróis, História de Japam, ed. Josef Wicki, 5 vols. (Lisbon: Biblioteca Nacional, 1976– 1984). José Manuel Garcia, As Filipinas na Historiografia Portuguesa do Século XVI / Philippines in Portuguese XVIth Century Historiography. (Porto: CEPESA, 2003). José Manuel Garcia (ed.), Cartas que os padres e irmãos da Companhia de Iesus escreuerão dos Reynos de Iapão & China [1598], 2 vols. (Maia: Castoliva Editora, 1997). Thomas O. Höllmann, “Formosa and the Trade in Venison and Deer Skins”, in Roderich Ptak & Dietmar Rothermund (eds.), Emporia, Commodities and Entrepreneurs in Asian Maritime Trade, c. 1400-1750. (Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag, 1991), pp. 263–290. Donald F. Lach & Edwin J. van Kley, Asia in the Making of Europe – Volume 3: A Century of Advance, 4 bks. (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1993). Rui Manuel Loureiro, Fidalgos, Missionários e Mandarins: Portugal e a China no Século XVI. (Lisbon: Fundação Oriente, 2000). Rui Manuel Loureiro, “A Malograda Embaixada de Tomé Pires a Pequim”, in Jorge Manuel dos Santos Alves (ed.), Portugal e a China – Conferências no II Curso Livre de História das relações entre Portugal e a China (Séculos XVI–XIX). (Lisbon: Fundação Oriente, 1998), pp. 39–55. Rui Manuel Loureiro, Em Busca das Origens de Macau. (Macau: Museu Marítimo de Macau, 1997). Rui Manuel Loureiro, “Macao and Manila in the context of Iberian-Dutch rivalry in the South China Sea”, in Alan Norman Baxter, Maria Antónia Espadinha & Leonor Diaz de Seabra (eds.), Conference Proceedings of Macao – Philippines Historical Relations. (Macau: Universidade de Macau & CEPESA, 2005), pp. 282–296. Alfredo Pinheiro Marques, A Cartografia Portuguesa do Japão (Séculos XVI–XVII) / The Portuguese Cartography of Japan (16th and 17th Centuries). (Lisbon: Imprensa Nacional – Casa da Moeda, 1996). Manel Ollé, La empresa de China: De la Armada Invencible al Galeón de Manila. (Barcelona: Acantilado, 2002). Manel Ollé, “Chineses, Holandeses e Castelhanos em Taiwan (1624–1684)”, Revista de Cultura / Review of Culture 11 (2004), pp. 82–98. Fernão Mendes Pinto, The Travels of Mendes Pinto, ed. & trans. Rebecca D. Catz. (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1989). Roderich Ptak, “The Fujianese, Ryukyuans and Portuguese (c. 1511 to 1540’s): Allies or Competitors?”, Anais de História de Além-Mar 3 (2002), pp. 447–467. Roderich Ptak, “The Ryukyu network in the Fifteenth and Early Sixteenth Centuries”, Revista de Cultura / Review of Culture 6 (2003), pp. 16–20. Joseph F. Schütte (ed.), Monumenta Historica Japoniae I. (Rome: Institutum Historicum Societatis Iesu, 1975). Luís Silveira (ed.), Livro das Plantas das Fortalezas, Cidades e Povoações do Estado da Índia Oriental. (Lisbon: Instituto de Investigação Científica Tropical, 1991). Sanjay Subrahmanyam, The Portuguese Empire in Asia, 1500–1700: A Political and Economic History. (London: Longman, 1993). T’ien-Tsê Chang, “Malacca and the failure of the first Portuguese embassy to Peking”, Boletim do Instituto Luís de Camões 15:1/2 (1981), pp. 149–163. Jan Huygen van Linschoten, Itinerário, Viagem ou Navegação de Jan Huygen van Linschoten para Formosa but unattractive 55 as Índias Orientais ou Portuguesas, ed. Arie Pos & Rui Manuel Loureiro. (Lisbon: Comissão Nacional para as Comemorações dos Descobrimentos Portugueses, 1997). Ernst van Veen, “VOC Strategies in the Far East (1605-1640)”, Bulletin of Portuguese / Japanese Studies 3 (2001), pp. 85–105. Ernst van Veen, “How the Dutch Ran a Seventeenth-Century Colony: The Occupation and Loss of Formosa 1624–1662”, Itinerario 20:1 (1996), pp. 59–77. Castilians in the North of Taiwan: Frontier Interactions at Isla Hermosa Manel Ollé The sixteen years of Castilian presence in Taiwan – between 1626 and 1642 – represent a historic episode that is still relatively little studied and not well represented on the general map of relevant happenings in the Oriental Asia of the seventeenth century. Despite this, it would be fair to point out that in recent years there has been an important advance: Castilian sources that were mainly already known but only in partial editions or ones that were difficult to find have emerged and have come into circulation in academic circles. 1 The information about the Castilian presence in Taiwan that is transmitted and certified in letters, memories and other documents that are mostly kept in Spanish and Philippine archives, had already been found – in their principle, but at the same time, detailed sketches – to be overall fairly faithfully reflected in the work of historic erudition that was published in 1930 by the Dominican priest José M. Alvarez called Formosa, geográfica e históricamente considerada.2 In this important monographic work, we even find preserved, in full or partially reproduced, the only references to some data and episodes based on documents that are now lost. Obviously, the recently contributed documents enable us to give a new dimension to the historic matter of the north of Taiwan: they enable aspects to be broadened, and the different perspectives of construction of the stories and historical analyses based on them to be specified, qualified and founded on more precise, reliable data. In recent years, authors such as José Eugenio Borao have started to make the most of this material detailing some specific aspects of this process with a positivist approach and precision (geographical situation and architectural structure of the Castilian enclaves, the role of the Dominican priests in Taiwan, the Austronesian enclave names, shipment dates of the supply boats from Manila, etc.).3 We should also 1 2 3 José Eugenio Borao, Pol Heyns, Carlos Gomez, and Anna Maria Zandueta Nisce, Spaniards in Taiwan. (Taibei: SMC Publishing Incorporation, 2002), 2 vols. José María Alvarez, Formosa Geográfica e Históricamente Considerada. 2 vols. (Barcelona: Librería Católica Internacional, 1930). Cf. an excellent Chinese edition an translation by Lee Yu-chung ᶄ∉ѣ, Jose Maria Alvarez 㦭㾵.俢㾵Ӕ.䱵⬜ࡍᯥ, Xibanya ren zai Taiwan 㾵⨣⢏Ӱ൞㠰⚙ (1626–1642). (Taibei: Guoshiguan taiwan wenxianguan ുਨ佞㠰⚙ᮽ⦱佞, 2006). José Eugenio Borao, “The aborigines of Northern Taiwan according to the 17th Spanish Sources”, Newsletter of Taiwan History Field Research, no. 27, Academia Sinica (1993), pp. 98–120; 58 Manel Ollé highlight the recent contribution of Tonio Andrade, with a global approximation to the history of Taiwan in the seventeenth century that includes in its discourse the colonisation of the Castilians in the north of the island. 4 The wealth of historic and ethnological information latent in these Castilian sources opens new perspectives, not just for specifying the historic episodes of the Castilians in Taiwan, but also for their inclusion in the overall perception of the regional processes in maritime Oriental Asia in the first half of the seventeenth century. When these documents are read in a parallel way to the documentation and to the understanding of Dutch Taiwan and the Chinese maritime imperial and regional historic dynamics, they take on a greater value and explanatory capacity; they exceed the framework of microscopic erudition or of Castilian missionary historiography. This is information that has normally been interpreted in the Spanish area only from the Spanish and missionary point of view: as an episodic, lesser and failed part of the Philippine project; however, they enable other different perspectives and should be included as part of a broader story, in a joint perspective of a complex, fascinating historic process, that irreversibly changed the historic course of the island of Taiwan and its inhabitants. These sources present a complex historic subject with diverse ramifications. The Castilian incursions into Taiwan show an episode that is apparently less with regard to two other important matters concerning the entry of Taiwan into the Chinese area in the seventeenth century – the Dutch dominance of the southwest of the island and the migration, trade and conquest of the island by the Chinese – but it raises relevant questions and opens new perspectives. The historic sources that remain from this episode reveal unpublished information about the characterisation and the relations between the different groups of Austronesian anthropological matrix that inhabited the north of the island at the beginning of the seventeenth century and the new settlers installed on the island of Taiwan (Castilians, Chinese, Dutch), they thus provide information about their ways of life, social and territorial organisation, about mutual perceptions, conflicts, territorial control, symbiosis, methods of domination. A part of the historiographical interest presented by this historic episode of the Castilians in Taiwan resides in the determination of the routes, products, coalitions and changes of commercial strategy which occurred in the area throughout the period. 4 José Eugenio Borao, “The Catholic Dominican Missionaries in Taiwan, 1626–1642”, in Missionary Approaches and Linguistic in Mainland China and Taiwan, Leuven Chinese Studies, no. X, (2000), pp. 101–132; José Eugenio Borao, “Fleets, relief ships and Trade. Communications between Manila and Jilong, 1626–1642”, in Around and About Formosa, T’sao Yung-ho Foundation for Culture and Education (2003), pp. 307–336; José Eugenio Borao, “The ‘Justification’ of the Spanish Intrusion in Taiwan”, in Humanitas Taiwanica 60 (2004), pp. 338–372. Tonio Andrade, How Taiwan Became Chinese. Dutch, Spanish, and Han Colonization in the Seventeenth Century. (New York: Columbia University Press, 2007). Castilians in the north of Taiwan 59 In 1626, the north of Taiwan became an extreme frontier within an imperial Castilian system in Asia which, as a whole, we can now contemplate as an endemically conflictive border, transgressed and laid siege to. The Castilian Taiwan was a colony that depended on the archipelago of the Philippines, while the Philippines depended on New Spain, which in turn depended on Madrid. It was an extreme border far from an imperial system. Taiwan was situated in an area constantly defined by the re-negotiation of spaces of control and influence, of disputes and interactions, defined by a selective permeability (only limited groups or individuals could cross, enter, leave, trade and preach), also defined by the coexistence or superimposing in the territory of groups in conflict or collaboration but always limited defence and extension of control and influence territories. These are features which, due to their apparent obviousness, could be passed over. Apart from this Asiatic regional perspective, the Castilian presence in the Philippines and Taiwan has tended to be studied with regard to its Mexican metropolis on which it depended or as an object of isolated, self-sufficient knowledge, based on its internal makeup (tax systems, relationships between Austronesian, Castilian and Chinese communities, conflicts between religious and civic bodies, etc.) without seeing them as nodes of a series of networks that cohabited and were violent among themselves. In the Taiwan of the first half of the seventeenth century, it became quite clear that the metaphor of the Mediterranean in the China Sea was only partly applicable to the geographical area of maritime oriental Asia, as this could not be defined as a closed world of self-sufficient interactions and of long duration between communities or nations of the region but as a complex, always border area, in which multiple changing borders of conflict and contact (economic, military, religious, cultural) crossed over and converged, and that from this regional network limited by the China Seas it projected towards the exterior in a decisive way, specifically towards the further reaching exterior networks of the Indian Ocean and of the Pacific Ocean. There, imperial projects and maritime merchant communities superimposed and competed. The north of Castilian Taiwan was situated in a regional area that was irreversibly modified with the arrival of new economic and territorial logics exported from the European metropolis and from the Iberian colonies of America (New Spain) and south Asia (Estado da India). In this field, the currency, the silver used in economic exchange, that also appeared in Taiwan thanks to the Castilians and the Dutch, was fundamental, replacing the anterior local trading system based on exchange. The dynamics of “reduction to population”, in other words the grouping of disperse Austronesian populations initially into small settlements, was fundamental; this was to favour the control and the missionaries’ task of introducing Christianity.5 5 “Después de estos yndios de Taparri, allá cerca de la fuerza de Tanchuy, están los yndios de Senár, que seran pot todos asta unos ocho o nuebe pueblezillos, todos los quales stamos procurando reduzirlos a un solo pueblo, a donde tienen edificadas muchas de sus cassas, y 60 Manel Ollé Obviously, the Castilian settlement in the north of Taiwan also threw light on the strategic value, on the role of the island in the set of the respective Asiatic colonial systems and of the different maritime trading communities in competition in the area. From the Philippine point of view, the analysis of the Castilian expansion towards Taiwan led it to question its causes and intentions; it also led it to question the motivations for the initial settling and for the final Castilian withdrawal and defeat on the Island of Taiwan. From this point of view we could talk about Taiwan as a failed project, as a doubtful colonising project, unfinished, in which, naturally, immediate factors of the reaction of the settlers of the north of Taiwan and of the Philippine and Castilian situation influenced, as well as exogenous factors, such as the process of Japanese trading isolation which took place between 1633 and 1639 or the revolt of the Chinese of Manila in 1639 and the evolution of the relations and coalitions between the Dutch and Chinese trading communities. The repercussion in the Chinese coastal provinces of the South of the crisis that opened in the Chinese empire in 1627 after the death of the emperor Ming Xizong ᱄⟯ᇍ (Tianqi ཟ੥, r. 1621–1627) also had a clear influence. This repercussion was quickly perceived by the authorities in Manila. The governor, Niño de Tabora (?–1632), informed King Felipe IV (1605–1665) of the negative repercussion in Fujian of these successive problems in the Chinese court. Before the Castilians arrived in the north of Taiwan, there was already a significant trading dynamic in the northern area of the island.6 Not just between different, numerous Austronesian populations settled in the area; there is also information that tells us about the annual arrival of Chinese ships. It should be remembered that after the Chinese maritime opening of 1567, private sailing trade permits in Yuegang ᴾ⑥ – later known as Haicheng ⎭► – that were registered for Taiwan did not go to the South West Coast, to Taoyuan ṹൈ, the area that today is Tainan 㠰঍, where the Dutch later installed themselves, and that would end up being the main Chinese trading and migratory centre on the island, but to the area in the north, the area where the Castilians settled in 1624. Up until 1593, there had been no limit to the permits granted to ships, but from that year, up to five ships a year were allowed to Danshui ␗≪ and five to Jilong 䴔㊖.7 Sulphur and deerskins were the main products that this trade activated, in exchange for rice, silk, pottery, iron or cereals. Castilian sources offer revealing data about the Austronesian groups that inhabited the area. In the years he spent in Taiwan (1631 to 1633), the Dominican friar, Ja- 6 7 solían bibir antiguamente, las quales desanpararon de miedo de los españoles quando tomaron este puesto”, Archivo de la Universidad de Santo Tomás, AUST, Libros, vol. 49, pp. 308–309. See Lee Yu-chung ᶄ∉ѣ, Jose Maria Alvarez (2006), p. 181. See for example also the contribution by Chang Pin-tsun ᕫᖢᶇ in this volume. Chang Pin-ts’un ᕫᖢᶇ, Chinese Maritime Trade: The case of Sixteenh-Century Fu-chien (Fukien). (Princeton: UMI Dissertation Services, 1983), pp. 263–264. Castilians in the north of Taiwan 61 cinto Esquivel, wrote two invaluable reports on his observations on the local settlers of the area.8 He described a panorama of numerous headhunting populations, rivals always in conflict with each other, dedicated to hunting deer and to selling different parts of these deer to the traders. He described an area that was linguistically and culturally very fragmented. Proportionally, the volume of information that is preserved about the Austronesians from the north of Taiwan is far lower than the detailed ethnographic contribution that came from Dutch sources with regard to the south west of Taiwan. However, in a synthetic but highly revealing way, particularly in the anonymous narration attributed to the Dominican, Jacinto Esquivel, there is an interesting description of ways of life, social classes, customs, beliefs, social and cultural institutions. The Austronesians from the north of Taiwan were compared to the native settlers of the area of Pangasinán in the Philippine island of Luzón.9 A kind of shamanic ritualism is described, with circular dances, the sacrifice of animals and the prolonged consumption of alcohol over days, with ancient women dedicated to friendly curing rituals. He describes a warrior and hunter society, in which the headhunters registered their exploits with tattoos on their skin, 10 but usually without internal violence and also dedicated to agriculture, apart from the singular case of the Tapari and Quimaurri people, who specialised in trade. He describes populations with a society with an enriched elite but without complex forms of government. Most of the characterised features mentioned above are also applicable to the Taiwanese aborigines from the South, however, the aspects that singularise the Austronesian people of the north of Taiwan with regard to what we know about the local inhabitants from the south west concerns the vitality of their internal and external trading networks, before the arrival of the Castilians, linked to a great degree to the trade of gold and sulphur. With regards to this, the mention of the existence 8 9 10 Jacinto Esquivel, “Memoria de las cosas pertenecientes al estado de la Isla Hermosa”, 1633, Archivo de la Provincia del Santísimo Rosario APSR (Avila), Libros, Tomo 49, 306-316. See José Eugenio Borao, Spaniards in Taiwan (2002), pp. 179–189, and Lee Yu-chung, Jose Maria Alvarez (2006) pp. 177– 195; an abbreviated version is preserved in José María Alvarez, Formosa Geográfica e Históricamente Considerada (1930), vol. 2, pp. 424–428. Jacinto Esquivel, “Memoria de lo perteneciente a la nueva conversión de la Isla Hermosa”, Archivo de la Provincia del Santísimo Rosario (Avila), Formosa, Tomo 1, cuadernillo 8, pp. 355–361; see José Eugenio Borao, Spaniards in Taiwan (2002), pp. 179–189, and Lee Yu-chung, Jose Maria Alvarez (2006), pp. 196–209, an abbreviated version is preserved in José María Alvarez, Formosa Geográfica e Históricamente Considerada (1930), vol. 2, pp. 424–428. “Son estos indios como los demás de corta capacidad y entendimiento, pero de naturales cándidos y sencillos a mi parecer, a modo de los indios de Pangasinan.” Jacinto Esquivel, Memoria de lo perteneciente…, Archivo de la Universidad de Santo Tomás, AUST fol. 317v. See Lee Yu-chung, Jose Maria Alvarez (2006), p. 196. “Los balientes que an cortado cabezas se pintan los cuellos y los brazos” Jacinto Esquivel, Memoria de lo perteneciente…, Archivo de la Universidad de Santo Tomás, AUST fol. 318v. See Lee Yu-chung, Jose Maria Alvarez (2006), p. 198. 62 Manel Ollé of a “lingua franca”, bazay or bacay, is notable, widely used in different areas of the north of the island, like a code superimposed on the great fragmentation among inhabitants of different languages. 11 It was a language used for trading, a kind of “lingua Franca” or “Formosan Swahili” with Austronesian Malay roots, that appeared as an instrument of communication in a parallel way to the trading of gold on the east coast of the island and of sulphur on the north coasts. With regards to these Austronesian commercial networks, we should also point out due to their singular nature in the Taiwanese context, the mention in Castilian sources of the two only native groups which – according to what sources have shown so far – did not live thanks to agriculture or to hunting, but basically from trade and traditional manufacturing. In his memories, Jacinto Esquivel specifically refers to two peoples in the area of the bay of Jilong 䴔㊖, the Taparris and the Quimaurris, whom he described as eminently trading people, set apart from the dominant rivalry between the neighbouring peoples (although it would seem that between the two of them there was great rivalry), with great mobility and greater intelligence than the rest of their neighbours. Esquivel put them on a level in their functions with the Chinese with regards to the Castilians and other Asian communities: inevitable trade partners, intermediaries par excellence, essentially traders. The commercial system of the Taparris and the Quimaurris consisted of being intermediaries between the Chinese boats and the other Austronesian groups. They were dedicated to offering the Chinese boats gold, sulphur and leather, antlers and other parts of deer in exchange for silk and other textile products, beads and ironware. These products, which came from the exchange with boats from China – together with the products that they themselves made or prepared (arrows, knives, agricultural tools, pieces of clothing, salt, and so on) – were used by them to also obtain, through exchange with people further to the south and east of the island, gold, sulphur and leather and other deer derivates. The existence of these people who specialised in trade and craftsmanship perhaps explains the absence in Castilian sources of any mention of the existence of Chinese or Japanese communities of any importance in the area, and would also explain the mentioning in later sources of the refusal of the Taiwanese people from the interior of the northern area to trade directly with the Chinese, as they were used to exchanging products with these Austronesian Taiwanese people.12 11 12 “Todos estos pueblos dizen ser grandes y que en todos ellos corre una misma lengua común y jeneral en toda esta ysla, que es la de bazay; no obstante que algunos pueblos tienen también su lengua particular, ussan de ambas.” Jacinto Esquivel, Memoria de las cosas…, Archivo del a Universidad de Santo Tomás, AUST fol. 308v. See Lee Yu-chung, Jose Maria Alvarez (2006), p. 180. About this “lingua franca”, cf. Ang Kaim 㗷֩丩, “Jindai chuqi beibu Taiwan de shangye maoyi yu yuanzhumin 䘇ԙࡓᵕ्䜞㠰⚙Ⲻ୼ᾣ䋵᱉㠽৕օ≇”, in Ang Kaim and Huang Fusan (eds.), Taiwan shangye chuantong lunwenji 㠰⚙୼ᾣ۩㎧䄌ᮽ䳼. (Taibei: Academia Sinica, 1999), pp. 45–80; and Tonio Andrade, How Taiwan Became Chinese (2007), cap. IV, note 22, p. 16 (http://www.gutenberg-e.org/andrade/andrade04.html#note 22). See José Eugenio Borao, Spaniards in Taiwan (2002), p. 479. Castilians in the north of Taiwan 63 The first Spanish plan for conquering Taiwan appeared in the framework of the memorial of the General Meeting of the Philippines of 1586, presented to the Court of Felipe II by the Jesuit, Alonso Sánchez (1547–1593).13 Ten years later, in 1596, the governor of the Philippines, Luís Pérez Dasmariñas, once again suggested this Taiwan venture as a preventative response to the expansive policy of Japan and as a strategic enclave before the coast of Fujian ⿅ᔰ and intermediate ports when sailing towards Japan.14 The following year, in 1597, the ruling elite of the Philippine colony took on Luís Pérez Dasmariñas’ project as its own, and it received the support and encouragement of the new governor, Francisco Tello (d. 1603), and was debated in a war junta in Manila. Among the various letters and memorials sent to the court, we should mention the letter of the cosmographer, Hernando de los Ríos Coronel, who drew and sent the court plans of the island and arguments for its conquest. The authorities of Manila insistently requested the arrival of troops and help from Mexico to start this venture. However, the requests and reasoning made at the court were not given a positive response. The following Spanish proposal for the conquest of Taiwan came in 1619 from Bartolomé Martinez, a Dominican priest who during an eventful trip to Macao, put into port in Taiwan. The Dominican friar had been sent to Macao by the governor of the Philippines to inform the traders of Guangzhou ᔙᐔ and Quanzhou ⋿ᐔ that the Dutch were going to block the port of Manila. 15 The 1626 Spanish initiative to conquer Taiwan, driven by the governor, Fernando de Silva (r. July 1624 to June 1626) occurred in a context of very hard colonial competition with the Dutch fleets, which since their arrival had not stopped pestering and attacking the Spanish ships and blocking the port of Manila every year before the arrival of the seasonal trading of the Chinese traders who sailed to the rhythm of the monsoons. Since 1624, when the Dutch had established themselves in the south west of the island of Taiwan, the action to block the arrival of the Chinese boats in Manila had intensified. For the Spaniards in Manila, conquest of a stable, strategic enclave in Taiwan became a necessity for trading survival. A squadron was chartered composed of two galleons (three according to some contemporary Dutch sources) and twelve Chinese sampans. They left Manila with secret orders about which the soldiers themselves knew nothing. After participating in pacification actions of rebellious native Philippines, they started sailing towards Taiwan, going round the west coast to avoid meeting the Dutch ships.16 13 14 15 16 Manel Ollé, La Invención de China. Percepciones y estrategias Filipinas respecto a China en el siglo XVI. (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag, 2000), pp. 60–130. Spanish sources insist that the Japanese considered establishing themselves in Taiwan at several different times. The most organised attempt to would have taken place in 1615 and in particular, in 1620–1621. See Joseph Dehergne, “L’île Formose au XVIIe siècle: Essais ephémères d’expansion Européenne”, Monumenta Nipponica 4 (1941), p. 272. “Memoria del dominico Bartolomé Martínez acerca de la utilidad de la conquista de Isla Hermosa”. See José Eugenio Borao, Spaniards in Taiwan (2002), pp. 40–47. José María Alvarez, Formosa Geográfica e Históricamente Considerada (1930), vol. II, pp. 37–39. 64 Manel Ollé Two years later than the Dutch, on the May 12 1626, the Spanish attacked in a place on the northeast coast of the island they called Santiago (Sandiaojiao п䊸䀈), 17 they then set up a fort with the name of San Salvador on the small island of Heping ૂᒩጬ, in Jilong (Keelung) Bay, on the north east side of the island, with the aim that from there, they would undertake actions to expel the Dutch from the island. The Taparris and Quimaurris that lived in the area of Jilong abandoned their villages frightened by the Castilian arms, leaving some fifteen hundred houses at the disposal of the Castilians. Later, they constructed six more small forts on the base of the island and on the mainland to control the passage of boats and to keep the Parian under surveillance, the Chinese district that was conceived to be the living image of that of Manila. They called the port in this bay Santísima Trinidad. 18 The Spaniards did not come up against any initial violent resistance from the natives of the enclave (who initially fled) or from the reduced group of Chinese and Japanese traders and fishermen who had settled in the place. Initially, the Spaniards had difficulties in surviving due to the lack of fluent contact with the natives, the delay in the arrival of Chinese junks and the irregular nature of the arrival of supplies from Manila, that the difficulties of the climate and sailing interfered with on occasions. At the beginning, the Quimaurris and the Taparris refused to sell rice and other essential products to the Castilians in Jilong. After this initial period of isolation and difficulties of supplies, some Chinese junks started to arrive and some groups of Quimaurris and Taparris started to come to the Castilian enclave to exchange the foodstuffs they brought for pottery and silver. 19 Despite this, the dependence of the Spanish enclaves in Taiwan on the relief ships sent from Manila was constant throughout the siteen years of Spanish presence on the island. In the early years of the General Governor of the Philippines in Manila, Juan Niño de Tavora, they tried to send two relief boats a year from Manila to Jilong, however incidents of different types complicated the regular sending of supplies to Taiwan. Between 1631 and 1637 the use of the ship San Francisco regularly corresponded with the two yearly trips, one in March and the other in August. It is highly significant that they chose the month of August for the second trip, despite the profusion of violent typhoons and the difficulties in sailing involved during this month, the least advisable month to make this journey. Despite these difficulties, the fact that 17 18 19 In Japanese: Sanshiokaku – the port where the Japanese vessels and troops landed on Taiwan in 1895, after the Treaty of Shimonoseki. See José María Alvarez, Formosa Geográfica e Históricamente Considerada (1930), vol. II, p. 89. L. Delgado and D. Delgado, “La presencia española en Formosa”, Revista de Historia Naval 10:37 (1992), pp. 55–72. “Relation of the condition of the Filipinas Islands and other regions surrounding, in the year 1626”, from Ventura del Arco MSS in Ayer Collection of Newberry Library, reprinted in Emma Helen Blair, James A. Robertson, The Philippine Islands, 1493–1898. (Cleveland: The A. H. Clark Company, 1903), vol. 22, p. 143; Tonio Andrade, How Taiwan Became Chinese (2007), cap. IV, note 39, p. 17 (http://www.gutenberg-e.org/andrade/andrade04.html#note 39). Castilians in the north of Taiwan 65 they insistently sailed during the month of August must be clearly related to the correlation of these supply trips and the payment of the salaries of Castilian soldiers and civil servants in Taiwan with the arrival in Manila of the Galeón de Manila (normally between the end of May and July) and also with the arrival in Manila of the dozens of Chinese boats that came into trade in Manila every year to the rhythm of the monsoons. It is also related to the impossibility of waiting until later, with the precariousness of the material and food situation in the north of Castilian Isla Hermosa. In the final years of the Castilian presence in Taiwan, the regular nature of the two relief trips was broken and it became usual for two sampans instead of one ship to be responsible for transporting silver, foodstuffs and supplies.20 The main source of information about the number of boats that circulated in this trade during the period in question comes from the valuation register that was imposed on commercial boats in Manila, the almojarifazgo. This valuation of 3% on maritime trade, calculated according to the estimated value of the goods transported, enables us to deduce the number and the origin of the boats that arrived in Manila. 21 After the expedition to conquer the north of Taiwan in 1626, a contingent of 200 Spaniards with little more than a dozen pieces of artillery was left in charge of the place. Five Dominican missionaries also stayed there, led by the Dominican father, Bartolomé Martínez. Spanish missionary sources talk, with great optimism, of a set of 5,000 conversations during the almost two decades of Spanish presence in Taiwan. Jilong was a safe port but it was surrounded by mountainous land. Finally, the Castilians managed to set up a base from which they gained the acceptance of some native, neighbouring villagers and also managed to increase the presence of Chinese and Japanese traders in the fort of Jilong. On August seventeenth 1627, the year after the arrival of the Spaniards in Jilong, the new governor and General Captain of the Philippines, Juan Niño de Tabora, set sail from the Philippine port of Cavite at the head of a fleet of eight ships, among which there were three galleons and two galleys, 136 cannons and 2,000 men with supplies for six months. The objective was to consolidate the conquest of the north of Taiwan and to set up trading alliances with Chinese naval traders. The usual sailing setbacks in the area put an end to this initiative. At the end of 1627, the Castilians in Jilong discovered the existence of the port of Danshui – close to the current capital, Taipei – at a point on the coast not very 20 21 “Dos veçes al año se socorren estas fuerças, la una por el mes de março y la otra en el de agosto, después de aver venido el socorro de la nueva España a estas islas”, Alonso García Romero Archivo Historico Nacional, Madrid, AHN Diversos 34, n. 39; see José Eugenio Borao, Spaniards in Taiwan (2002), pp. 324–325; Lee Yu-chung, Jose Maria Alvarez (2006), p. 212. AGI (Archivo General de Indias), Contaduría, legajos 1195–1221). Pierre Chaunú relies in these séries for their analysis of Manila trade. Pierre Chaunu, Les Philippines et le Pacifique des Ibériques (16e, 17e, 18e siècles). (Paris: S.E.V.P.E.N., 1960), pp. 66–67. See also Carmen Yuste López, El Comercio de la Nueva España con Filipinas, 1590–1785. (México D. F.: Instituto Nacional de Antropología e Historia, 1984). 66 Manel Ollé far from the first Spanish enclave in Jilong, closer to the Chinese continent, as well as the route to Japan, and frequented by some traders. A leader of one of the villages in the area of Danshui went to see the Castilians in Jilong to ask for their help against an enemy attack.22 A group of twenty Castilian soldiers went to the area. The native leader of Danshui took them in but did not agree to sell them rice or any other supplies. Castilian sources indicate that he reached a peaceful agreement with the native enemy that had led to the call for help, the two villages prepared an ambush for the Castilians. They invited them to hunt and during the trip they attacked them by surprise. The Spaniards managed to kill the native leader and some of the attackers, but they lost eight soldiers. When the twelve surviving soldiers returned to Jilong, they found the Castilian ship, which was arriving from Manila with supplies and reinforcements. They decided to go on board and attack the natives of Danshui with the boat. As had happened on their arrival at Jilong, the Austronesians from Damshui fled on perceiving the military power of the Castilians, leaving behind their reserves of rice, their houses and their crops. That same year the Spaniards took control of Danshui, where they erected the Santo Domingo fort, made from earth and staked. Around Danshui there were productive rice-producing plains.23 Also between 1627 and the beginning of 1628, a Chinese junk from Fujian arrived in Jilongwith the mission of collecting information about the new settlers in the northern area of Taiwan, the Castilians who had displaced the Quimourris and the Taparris from the bay almost two years earlier. The commander of the Castilian detachment in the area, Antonio Carreño de Valdés, perceived the extreme importance of this Chinese embassy and tried to set up links of friendship and cooperation with the Chinese people who came to visit them. His objective was for them to come to Jilong to trade with the same intensity and frequency as in Manila and to settle in the enclave to carry out traditional production and trading functions as well as the local services that the Chinese offered in Manila. He assured them that the motive for their arrival in the north part of Taiwan was to fight against the pirates that dominated the seas and he gave them gifts to win their trust and friendship. The opening of fluent interactions with Chinese traders was vitally important for the supply and profitability of the Castilian expansion in Taiwan. When the Chinese ship was preparing to return to the continent with its gifts and promises of co-operation, a group of Austronesians attacked and plundered the Chinese ship. The Castilian commander, Antonio Carreño de Valdés, counterattacked capturing some native leaders and demanding the return of the goods stolen from the Chinese ship. Finally the Austronesians yielded and, in return for the free22 23 “Relation of the condition of the Filipinas Islands and other regions surrounding, in the year 1626”, from Ventura del Arco MSS in Ayer Collection of Newberry Library, reprinted in Blair and Robertson, Philippine Islands, vol. 22, pp. 181–212. “Brief relation of the Loss of the Island of Hermosa, Fr. Juan de los Angeles, O.P.”, Tonio Andrade, How Taiwan Became Chinese (2007), p. 43; Blair and Robertson, Philippine Islands, vol. 35, p. 128. Castilians in the north of Taiwan 67 dom of their leaders, they returned what they had stolen and left some young natives, some of the children of one of the leaders, locked in the fort as hostages. The Chinese were satisfied with the treatment they had been given by the Spaniards. Later Castilian embassies to Fuzhou ⿅ᐔ did not set up formal agreements to legalise a commercial route between Fujian and Taiwan; however, an informal commercial circuit arose, encouraged by favourable trading conditions that the Castilian authorities set up to attract Chinese ships: they excluded Chinese traders in Taiwan from any tax charge and they were released from the obligation to have the cargo in their boats inspected.24 In 1629, a small fleet of three ships with a galley, a brigantine and a ship was chartered. This fleet was promoted by the Manila traders and carried 200,000 pesos of Mexican silver destined for the purchase of Chinese silk. This was a huge quantity of silver, so huge that it was larger than all the silver sent in by the relief ships over the sixteen years of Castilian presence in the north of Taiwan. The brigantine lost its way due to the storms and ended up on the coast of Fujian. Its crew members were cordially received in Fujian, making way for a later embassy in which letters were given to the governor of the Philippines, Niño de Tabora, that asked for the opening of formal trading relations between Fuzhou and Taiwan. The missionary initiatives in the area and the attempts of the soldiers of the detail to collect taxes from the local villagers in the form of hens and rice created tension and confrontation with the neighbouring villagers of the Spanish enclave. Despite the initial lack of hostility by the local people of Taiwan, during the first two years the Spaniards registered thirteen Spanish deaths. Throughout the sixteen years of Spanish presence in Taiwan, diverse violent episodes were registered which led to tens of deaths. According to witnesses from those times, Danshui did not stop being “a shanty town of local people with three or four provisional hovels for the Chinese traders who brought rice and other things for the Spaniards. And fabrics and trinkets that they changed with the natives for sulphur, precious woods and so on”25 the sulphur mines, necessary for manufacturing gunpowder, were one of the main trading assets of the area. In 1630, an embassy was organised and sent before the governor of Fujian (Ocheo, or Ucheo in the Spanish sources of the times) led by General Juan de Alcaraz with the aim of opening stable commercial links, however, out at sea, the Chinese who were accompanying the Spaniards did a mutiny. Only the Dominican priest, 24 25 AGI (Archivo General de Indias), Filipinas 30, N. 11, “Instrucción que han de guardar los alféreces D. Juan de Aréchaga y Bernardino de Riveros y León Vullafaña, que van al presidio de Isla Hermosa a servir los oficios de contador e veedor ...1628; cf. José Eugenio Borao, Spaniards in Taiwan (2002), pp. 117–125. José María Alvarez, Formosa Geográfica e Históricamente Considerada (1930), vol. II, pp. 43–44. 68 Manel Ollé Angel Cocci, managed to reach Fujian, without fulfilling the purpose of the embassy.26 Dutch sources confirmed the annual arrival in Jilong, in the years that they opened between 1627 and 1631, of a number of between twenty and thirty Chinese junks loaded with silk, clothing, rice and wheat. Sulphur was the main product used for exchange. In 1631, the exchange of 5,000 piculs of sulphur were documented which, according to the prices of sulphur destined to the preparation of gunpowder, could cost 20,000 taels of silver. 27 After 1631, the insufficient nature of supplies from Manila discredited the port of Jilong as an attractive centre for Chinese ships. The two relief sampans that arrived in Jilong from Manila in May 1631 only transported rice. They were unable to purchase a great amount of the silk that the Chinese boat had brought with it, which meant that, from that moment, it no longer stopped off in the north of Taiwan.28 Attempts were also made to attract Japanese ships to Jilong. In 1632, some Japanese boats arrived in Jilong that exchanged silver for deerskin. This new trading route was soon cut short in the decree issued by the shogun in 1635 which put an end to any possibility of trade between Castilians and Japanese. The Spaniards in Taiwan managed to repel the first Dutch naval aggressions in 1631 organised by Pieter Nuyts (1598–1655). In Madrid, in April the same year, the convenience of the governor of the Philippines coordinating his energy with the Portuguese of Goa and Macao to expel the Dutch from Batavia and from Taiwan was discussed. The Dutch attacks and the successful precedents of Iberian collaboration were arguments used by the defenders of the Unión de Armas, in other words, of the collaboration or unification of the Portuguese and Spanish Armadas in Asia, which especially after the Ormuz crisis in 1622 was grouped around the Count-Duke of Olivares. This strategy obtained support in Taiwan and Manila but awoke great rejection in the Estado da Índia.29 This Portuguese-Spanish co-operation in the attack 26 27 28 29 Fray Diego de Aduarte, Historia de la Provincia del Santo Rosario de la Orden de Predicadores en Filipinas, Japón y China. (Manila, 1640–Zaragoza, 1693. Edited by Manuel Ferrero. 2 vols. Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciónes Científicas, 1964), pp. 357–366. Jacinto Esquivel, Memoria de las cosas pertenecientes al estado de la Isla Hermosa, 1632, APSR (UST) Libros, tomo 49, fols. 306–316, fol. 310. See Ang Kaim, “Jindai chuqi beibu Taiwan de shangye maoyi yu yuanzhumin” (1999), p. 60. “No vale contra esto el oponer que el cebo de rescatar estas cosas hace venir los sangleyes con la ropa, y que poniendo ese estanco no vendrían; esto es falso porque el no venir con abundancia de ropa es porque desde aquel negro socorro de mayo, en que no enviaron sino dos champanes de arroz, e tiempo en que estaba la isla cargada de sedas…”. Jacinto Esquivel, “Memoria de las cosas pertenecientes al estado de la Isla Hermosa.” 1633. Archivo de la Provincia del Santísimo Rosario (Avila), Libros, Tomo 49, p. 314. See José Eugenio Borao, Spaniards in Taiwan (2002), vol. I, p. 176, and Lee Yu-chung, Jose Maria Alvarez (2006), p. 192. Rafael Valladares, Castilla y Portugal en Asia (1580–1680): declive imperial y adaptación. (Leuven: Leuven University Press, 2001), pp. 37–64. Castilians in the north of Taiwan 69 against the Dutch in Taiwan can also be found in different letters from King Felipe IV to Juan Niño de Tabora, governor of the Philippines, to the authorities of Macao and to the Viceroy of the Estado de India (2nd February 1622, seventeenth February 1624, 10th March 1630, 14th March 1630, 14th March 1634, 12th April 1639). This military collaboration between the Portuguese and the Spaniards that was promoted from Madrid was never put into practice.30 The Spanish presence in the north of Taiwan remained precarious and strategic; it lasted for less than two decades. Unlike the Dutch establishment in the south of the island which did not stop growing and attracting trade and immigrants from the continent, mainly thanks to the complex interaction, not exempt of conflicts, with the Chinese and Japanese trading communities that already existed in the area, the Spanish enclaves in Taiwan did not manage to polarise a relevant trading activity or to make their presence profitable through the effective dominance over the local population of Taiwan. They did not manage to create or generate any benefit. The Japanese policy of partially closing her borders for foreigners and not permitting Japanese to leave the country (what was called sakoku 䧌ള in Japanese), a result of Christian missionary activities pursued by the Portuguese, established by Tokugawa Ieyasu ᗩᐓᇬᓭ (1543–1616) in various decrees issued between 1633 and 1639, contributed to devaluating part of the trading and missionary interest that the strategic enclaves in the north of Taiwan had for the Spaniards in the Philippines. In addition, the diseases that were suffered by a significant part of the soldiers of the two forts in the north of the island influenced the stagnation of the Spaniards and their later abandoning their possessions on the island. The loss of some of the yearly relief boats sent from Manila led to Spanish expeditions to the interior of the territory in search of food by purchasing or plundering, and an increase in the pressure on the local population, obliged to contribute to the survival of the Spanish garrisons by handing over yearly amounts of rice and hens. In response to this, in 1636 there was an uprising among the locals near Danshui who attacked and set fire to the Spanish fort, defended by sixty men, thirty of whom died.31 On January 22 1637, the Governor and General Captain of the Philippines, Sebastián Hurtado de Corcuera, called a meeting and a war council to contemplate the withdrawal from Taiwan due to the great expense for Manila of maintaining it, the few people there were to defend it, populate it and convert it to Christianity, the low volume of trade it generated, in view of the low influx of Chinese ships and the absence of contact with Japan. The general opinion of the meeting was that it 30 31 Arquivos de Macau (1929–1931), Serie I, vol. I, p. 247, Arquivos de Macau (1929–1931), Serie I, vol. II, pp. 57–58, 61, 119, and 385; Arquivos de Macau (1929–1931), Serie I, vol. 3, p. 126; Boxer Charles R., “The rise and Fall of Nicholas Iquam”, Tien Hsia Monthly 11.5 (1941), pp. 401–443. Dutch East Company, VOC 1120, p. 425. See José Eugenio Borao, Spaniards in Taiwan (2002), p. 249. 70 Manel Ollé would be convenient for the Spaniards to withdraw from Taiwan.32 The problems Manila had with the locals of Jolo (in the Sulu Sea), in the central and southern area of the Philippines meant that in 1639 there was a partial withdrawal of forces that led to abandoning Santo Domingo fort in Danshui, which had in fact been destroyed in the native uprising of 1636 and partially reconstructed by its governor, Francisco Hernández. 33 The triumph of the Braganzas in Lisbon and the independence of Portugal proclaimed in December 1640, broke the dynastic alliance of the Iberians in Asia and weakened its position before the Dutch even more. In 1640, the garrison in Jilong had barely sixty-four Spanish soldiers and artillerymen, 118 Philippines from Panpanga and Cagayan, three sailors, one doctor, one priest and six slaves.34 Ten years later, in 1640, there was a second failed Dutch attempt to expel the Spaniards from the island.35 In 1641 the important Portuguese strategic enclave of Malacca fell into the hands of the Dutch. The following year, an attack of Dutch ships with 500 men conquered the Spanish ports in the north of Taiwan without too much effort.36 In addition, the successive war between the Manchu invaders of China and those in favour of the legitimacy of the Ming dynasty in the mid-seventeenth century created a complicated economic situation, marked by insecurity and a lack of confidence. Since the 1620s, the provinces in the south of China had been undergoing a situation of deterioration in their economic conditions, however, Chinese maritime external trade did not start to suffer the consequences of the crisis until the 1640s. In very few years, the Iberian Oriental Asian scene underwent a radical transformation. In 1639, the Portuguese were expelled from Japan and were forbidden to trade, which was left to the Dutch, Chinese and Koreans.37 The most profitable of the routes for Macao was closed definitively. Two years later, in 1641, the Dutch expelled the Portuguese from Malacca, the key point of the link between the Indian Ocean and the seas of China, accentuating its precarious nature and isolation. The 32 33 34 35 36 37 AGI (Archivo General de Indias, Seville) Escribania de Cámara, 409–B, ff. 20–24v and 76–83. Acta de la Junta que realizo don Sebastián Hutado de Corcuera, y los pareceres que dieron los asistentes sobre la conveniencia de retirar el presidio de Isla Hermosa y el de Camboanga. Cf. José Eugenio Borao, Spaniards in Taiwan (2002), pp. 262–271. José María Alvarez, Formosa Geográfica e Históricamente Considerada (1930), II, p. 50. José Eugenio Borao, (2002) Vol. I, p. 324. About castilians-dutch rivarly and conflict in Asia see Ruurdje Laarhoven and Elizabeth pino Wittermans, “From Blockade to Trade: Early Dutch Relations with Manila, 1600–1750”, Philippine Studies 33:4 (1985), pp. 485–504. William Campbell, Formosa Under the Dutch described from Contemporary Records. (Taibei: SMC Publishing Incorporation, 1992), pp. 495–498. Charles R. Boxer, The Great Ship from Amacon. Annals of Macao and old Japan Trade, 1555–1640. (Lisboa: Centro de Estudos Históricos Ultramarinos, 1963), p. 153. Castilians in the north of Taiwan 71 following year, in 1642, news reached Asia of the crowning of João IV as King of Portugal, thus breaking relations with Manila, just two years after the Senate of Macao had approved a new proposal for legalising trade with Manila. The same year, the Dutch managed to expel the Spaniards from the north of Taiwan, meaning they managed to access the northern area of the island with a substantial increase of their territorial base on the island. Twenty years after the expulsion of the Spaniards from the north of Taiwan, a new historic episode placed them again in direct contact with the island. When Zheng Chenggong 䝣ᡆࣕ (Koxinga) expelled the Dutch, commercial exchanges between Taiwan and Manila were consolidated. Twenty years after the expulsion, Zheng Chenggong’s expansionism placed its objectives on the Philippine Islands.38 During the first moments of the regime established by Zheng Chenggong, in Taiwan there were problems of supplies due to the sudden increase of the population on the island. They had to add the thousands of people that made up Zheng Chenggong’s fleet to the approximately 100,000 Chinese people who had, in just a few decades, grouped around the Dutch fortifications of Zeelandia and Provintia during the Dutch period. One should add to these, the significance influx of immigrants provoked by the prohibition of the Manchu court in 1660 of residing near the coast of Fujian. Despite this, it should not be forgotten that both the Dutch settlements, as well as those of the Ming loyalists were limited to the coastal plains in the south of the island: most of the territory and the majority of the population of the island continued to be aboriginal. Nor should it be forgotten that, despite their defeat, the Dutch continued to frequent the island to trade and were allowed to maintain their presence in the old Spanish fortifications in the north of the island, in Jilong and Danshui. As a response to the demographic pressure, cultivated land expanded at the expense of the land of the locals, the plantations of the Dutch East India Company were confiscated and trade with Japan, the Philippines and Indonesia was intensified. The new Chinese regime of the Zhen clan intensified fiscal pressure on the population. Zheng Chenggong also decided to expand his maritime empire from the south towards the Philippines. On April 24 1662, the Dominican, Vittorio Ricci, left Taiwan as the Ambassador of the Ming, with a letter in which Zheng Chenggong ordered the leaders of Manila to pay tribute and to recognize his supremacy if they did not want the island of Luzon to be invaded and the city of Manila to be destroyed. The arrival of these threats and the knowledge of them by the Chinese Parian community in Manila aroused the endemic flame of Portuguese-Spanish tension in Manila. There was a new revolt of the Sangleys – the Chinese of Manila – which was repressed with the same firmness with which the recurrent rebellions in Manila since the beginning of 1603 had been resolved. The result was the death of 38 Domingo Abella, “Koxinga Nearly Ended Spansih Rule in the Philippines in 1662”, Philippine Historical Review II:1 (1969), pp. 295–334. Manel Ollé 72 10,000 Sangleys. When news of this killing reached Taiwan, Zheng Chenggong decided to make the most of the situation to attack the Philippines. However, his death in June 1662, only a few months after the Dutch withdrawal from the island, meant that his plans were not fulfilled.39 Zheng Chenggong became a deified myth, honoured in Taiwan and other areas that had been made Chinese or with Chinese minorities from maritime Asia.40 BIBLIOGRAPHY AGI (Archivo General de Indias, Seville) Escribania de Cámara, 409–B, ff. 20–24v and 76– 83. Acta de la Junta que realizo don Sebastián Hutado de Corcuera, y los pareceres que dieron los asistentes sobre la conveniencia de retirar el presidio de Isla Hermosa y el de Camboanga. AGI (Archivo General de Indias), Contaduría, legajos 1195–1221 (http://www.mcu.es/ archivos/MC/AGI/BaseDatos.html). Arquivos de Macau (1929–1931), Serie I, vol. I–III. Domingo Abella, “Koxinga Nearly Ended Spansih Rule in the Philippines in 1662”, Philippine Historical Review II:1 (1969), pp. 295–334. José María Alvarez, Formosa Geográfica e Históricamente Considerada. 2 vols. (Barcelona: Librería Católica Internacional, 1930). Tonio Andrade, How Taiwan Became Chinese. Dutch, Spanish, and Han Colonization in the Seventeenth Century. (New York: Columbia University Press, 2007), http://www.gutenberge.org/andrade/andrade04.html. Ang Kaim 㗷֩丩, “Jindai chuqi beibu Taiwan de shangye maoyi yu yuanzhumin 䘇ԙࡓ ᵕ्䜞㠰⚙Ⲻ୼ᾣ䋵᱉㠽৕օ≇”, in Ang Kaim and Huang Fusan (eds.), Taiwan shangye chuantong lunwenji 㠰⚙୼ᾣ۩㎧䄌ᮽ䳼. (Taibei: Academia Sinica, 1999), pp. 45–80. Emma Helen Blair, James A. Robertson, The Philippine Islands, 1493–1898. (Cleveland: The A. H. Clark Company, 1903). José Eugenio Borao, Pol Heyns, Carlos Gomez, and Anna Maria Zandueta Nisce, Spaniards in Taiwan. (Taibei: SMC Publishing Incorporation, 2002), 2 vols. José Eugenio Borao, “The aborigines of Northern Taiwan according to the seventeenth Spanish Sources”, Newsletter of Taiwan History Field Research, no. 27, Academia Sinica (1993), pp. 98–120. José Eugenio Borao, “The Catholic Dominican Missionaries in Taiwan, 1626–1642”, in Missionary Approaches and Linguistic in Mainland China and Taiwan, Leuven Chinese Studies, no. X (2000), pp. 101–132. 39 40 Patrizia Carioti, Zheng Chenggong. (Napoli: Istituto Universitario Orientale, 1995), pp. 154–157. See also G. Foccardi, The Last Warrior. The life of Cheng Ch’eng-kung, the Lord of the “Terrace Bay”. (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag, 1986). R. C. Croizier, Koxinga and Chinese Nationalism. (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1977), pp. 25–47. Castilians in the north of Taiwan 73 José Eugenio Borao, “Fleets, relief ships and Trade. Communications between Manila and Jilong, 1626–1642”, in Around and About Formosa, T’sao Yung-ho Foundation for Culture and Education (2003), pp. 307–336. José Eugenio Borao, “The ‘Justification’ of the Spanish Intrusion in Taiwan”, in Humanitas Taiwanica 60 (2004), pp. 338–372. Charles R. Boxer, The Great Ship from Amacon. Annals of Macao and old Japan Trade, 1555-1640. (Lisboa: Centro de Estudos Históricos Ultramarinos, 1963). Charles R. Boxer, “The rise and Fall of Nicholas Iquam”, Tien Hsia Monthly 11.5 (1941), pp. 401–443. William Campbell, Formosa Under the Dutch described from Contemporary Records. (Taibei: SMC Publishing Incorporation, 1992). Patrizia Carioti, Zheng Chenggong. (Napoli: Istituto Universitario Orientale, 1995). Chang Pin-ts’un ᕫᖢᶇ, Chinese Maritime Trade: The case of Sixteenh-Century Fu-chien (Fukien). (Princeton: UMI Dissertation Services, 1983), pp. 263–264. Pierre Chaunu, Les Philippines et le Pacifique des Ibériques (16e, 17e, 18e siècles). (Paris: S.E.V.P.E.N., 1960). R. C. Croizier, Koxinga and Chinese Nationalism. (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1977). Fray Diego de Aduarte, Historia de la Provincia del Santo Rosario de la Orden de Predicadores en Filipinas, Japón y China. (Manila: 1640–Zaragoza: 1693; edited by Manuel Ferrero. 2 vols. Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciónes Científicas, 1964). Joseph Dehergne, “L’île Formose au XVIIe siècle: Essais ephémères d’expansion Européenne”, Monumenta Nipponica 4 (1941), pp. 270–277. L. Delgado and D. Delgado, “La presencia española en Formosa”, Revista de Historia Naval 10:37 (1992), pp. 55–72. Jacinto Esquivel, “Memoria de las cosas pertenecientes al estado de la Isla Hermosa”, 1633, Archivo de la Provincia del Santísimo Rosario APSR (Avila), Libros, Tomo 49, pp. 306–316. G. Foccardi, The Last Warrior. The life of Cheng Ch’eng-kung, the Lord of the “Terrace Bay”. (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag, 1986). Ruurdje Laarhoven and Elizabeth Pino Wittermans, “From Blockade to Trade: Early Dutch Relations with Manila, 1600–1750”, Philippine Studies 33:4 (1985), pp. 485–504. Lee Yu-chung ᶄ∉ѣ, Jose Maria Alvarez 㦭㾵.俢㾵Ӕ.䱵⬜ࡍᯥ, Xibanya ren zai Taiwan 㾵 ⨣⢏Ӱ൞㠰⚙(1626–1642). (Taibei: Guoshiguan taiwan wenxianguan ുਨ佞㠰⚙ᮽ ⦱佞, 2006). Carmen Yuste López, El Comercio de la Nueva España con Filipinas, 1590–1785. (México D. F.: Instituto Nacional de Antropología e Historia, 1984). Manel Ollé, La Invención de China. Percepciones y estrategias Filipinas respecto a China en el siglo XVI. (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag, 2000). Rafael Valladares, Castilla y Portugal en Asia (1580–1680): declive imperial y adaptación. (Leuven: Leuven University Press, 2001). Travelling the Strait: The Physical Experience Naval and Military Diets in Early Modern Taiwan and East Asia Mathieu Torck In the past few years, my research has focused on the living conditions aboard Asian junks in pre-modern times. In particular the history of Chinese and – to a lesser extent – Japanese and Southeast Asian wooden sea craft and maritime travelling was scrutinized in the light of a reassessment of the history of scurvy, the vitamin C deficiency disease that formed a hideous chapter in the history of long distance seafaring. Since biochemical findings at Ghent University in Belgium had drawn attention to a differentiation in the proneness to vitamin C deficiency among the peoples of the globe, a new perspective necessitated itself. As a result of these findings, the conclusion was reached that scurvy was as much a matter of genetic predisposition as of the right diet. In my work, I attempted to explore scurvy from the perspective of Chinese history. Seen from the point of view of provisioning, Taiwan presents itself as a peculiar case, not so much in terms of sailing times, but rather in view of the military operations that characterised the stormy history of the short-lived Dutch presence, the emergence of Zheng power and the eventual incorporation of the island into the Qing Empire. In spite of the limited expanse of the southeast Chinese maritime region, including the coastal provinces and Taiwan, the vulnerability of operating armies and navies with respect to ruptures in the supply lines, in general, remained a permanent concern. Consequently, the line of approach adopted in this paper focuses on the crucial role of logistics. I will first elaborate on the results of the core research and then gradually concentrate on the East Asian situation and the place that Taiwan occupies within the contours of this approach. Although the textual corpus has not yet been exhaustively explored in the light of the topic under scrutiny, I will present the first preliminary results with respect to this chapter in Taiwan’s history. My findings draw on textual research and partly also on fieldwork carried out in the maritime province of Fujian in March/April 2004. The fields of study at the crossroads in which I work are the maritime, military and naval history of China and, furthermore, traditional Chinese medicine and the history of food ways in China. The scourge of armies and navies Due to a genetic condition, the human being is one of those very few species that is unable to synthesise vitamin C by itself. Consequently, if one does not consume a regular intake of foodstuffs containing ascorbic acid, scurvy becomes a serious 76 Mathieu Torck health threat. Throughout history, scurvy is, first and foremost, known to have wrought havoc during long-distance sea voyages. Vasco Da Gama (1460?–1524) witnessed a severe outbreak of scurvy during voyages to and from India around the turn of the fifteenth century, while a naval expedition against the Spanish Manila galleons led by George Anson (1697–1762), was almost ruined by the disease. No matter whether Portuguese or British, all seafaring nations had to cope with the disease to some degree. Moreover, the effects of scurvy were equally detrimental in war zones and as a result of crop failure. As late as the First World War (1914– 1918), scurvy was prevalent among the Russian army. On each and every occasion, a lack of access to fresh foods or extended periods without a nutritionally balanced diet were the main reasons for the occurrence of scurvy. The history of the disease is a relatively long one, from the first descriptions occurring in sea travel accounts and medical publications by surgeons, such as John Woodall’s (1570–1643) The Surgeon’s Mate and James Lind’s (1716–1794) famous Treatise on Scurvy, to Captain James Cook’s effective dealing with the disease during the voyages to Australia to the discovery and isolation of the antioxidant vitamin C by Albert Szent-Györgyi (1893– 1986) in 1928. It was not until the twentieth century that the disease was finally and almost completely subdued, although, even today, cases of sub-clinical scurvy may occur sporadically.1 In the 1990’s, biochemical research at Ghent University showed that haptoglobin polymorphism is a determinant factor in the occurrence of scurvy. Haptoglobin is a protein that binds haemoglobin and is characterised by polymorphism, meaning that there are three haptotypes: Hp1–1, Hp2–1 and Hp2–2 which show a differentiated spread among the peoples of the world. The fundamental finding pertained to the fact that carriers of the Hp2–2 type show a relatively faster depletion of vitamin C compared with carriers of the Hp2–1 and Hp1–1 type. As the Hp2–2 is far more prevalent among Asian peoples than among Europeans or native South Americans, it was assumed that, in theory, there should have been a far higher incidence of the vitamin C deficiency disease among such well-known victim categories as sailors or soldiers (this time in China), unless the historical context in China, whether it be military, medical, or maritime, proved to be substantially different from or even incomparable to its western counterpart.2 1 2 For a detailed account of all these cases see Kenneth Carpenter, The History of Scurvy and Vitamin C. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1986). Carpenter’s monograph, drawing on a particularly substantial amount of primary and secondary sources, constitutes by far the most exhaustive work on scurvy to date. See also Mathieu Torck, Avoiding the Dire Straits – An Inquiry into Food Provisions and Scurvy in the Maritime and Military History of China and Wider East Asia. (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2009). For the geographical distribution of Hp phenotypes see Michel Langlois, Joris Delanghe, Bernard D. De Buyzere, Ouyang Jin, “Effect of Haptoglobin on the Metabolism of Vitamin C”, Journal for Clinical Nutrition 66 (1997), pp. 606–610. Na Na, Joris Delanghe, Youri Taes, Mathieu Torck, Willy Baeyens, Ouyang Jin, “Serum Vitamin C concentration is influenced by Haptoglobin Polymorphism and Iron Status in Chinese”, Clinica Chimica Acta 365 (2006), pp. 319–324. For the geographical distribution of Hp1 gene frequency see H.E. Schultze, J.F. Travelling the strait 77 Scurvy in early modern China An important source of information on scurvy in early modern China is a rare text belonging to the realm of traditional Chinese medicine. In the Yizong jinjian 䟡ᇍ䠇 䪈, a Chinese medical classic compiled in 1742 by Wu Qian ੩䅏,3 scurvy is called qingtui yagan 䶈㞵⢏⯩ (or: green-leg gan of the teeth)4 and is reported to have occurred among Chinese armies operating in the north of the empire. The text itself constitutes a detailed analysis of the symptomatology of the disease and, in a note added to the document at the time of compilation, reference is made to the spotting and diagnosis of scurvy by a military physician called Tao Qilin 䲬䎭哕 in the northern garrisons during the Yongzheng 䴃↙ period (1723–1735). It is striking that the reasons why the disease crops up, according to Tao, are seen in connexion with the frequent consumption of meat and the cold, damp climate of the region. Subsequently, the text provides an overview of many different methods of treatment going from the intake of horse milk and horse brain to the use of several decoctions to restore the body’s inner balance to bloodletting and applying ointment to the gums. It is unsurprising that the first substantial text documenting scurvy in China originates in a military setting. As indicated briefly above, in the military history of the west, among other places, scurvy was known as a frightening ailment which cropped up when the supply lines were hampered.5 The meticulousness of the text in the Yizong jinjian and the possibility of scurvy appearing as a soldier’s disease paved the way for a reinforced investigation of military operations and logistics in pre-modern and early modern China, whether purely land-based or with a maritime connexion – and the potential dangers surrounding them. 6 Sailors’ diets in pre-modern China and Southeast Asia The passage about scurvy which is contained in the Yizong jinjian does not show any link with the seafaring business of Qing China at the time. Yet, as scurvy was a dis- 3 4 5 6 Heremans, Molecular Biology of Human Proteins. Volume 1: Nature and Metabolism of Extracellular Proteins. (Amsterdam: Elsevier Publishing Company, 1966), p. 390. Wu, a famous physician, was a native from She District ↏ in Anhui Province ᆿᗳ. For a short biographical note cf. Zhao Faxin 䏏⌋᯦, Hu Yongxin 㜗≮‫ؗ‬, Lei Xinqiang 䴭᯦ᕰ, Ding Hongzhan з ㌻ ᡦ , Zhongyi wenxianxue cidian ѣ 䟡 ᮽ ⥤ ᆮ 䗔 ޮ (Dictionary of Chinese Medical Literature). (Beijing: Zhongyi guji chubanshe, 2000), p. 213. This translation of the term is based upon Nigel Wiseman and Feng Ye 俤ᳺ, A Practical Dictionary of Chinese Medicine. ሜ⭞㤧╘ѣ䟡䗔ޮ. (Beijing: Renmin weisheng chubanshe, 2002; second edition), pp. 248–249. Frequent cases of the disease were noted by the Austrian army surgeon, J. G. Kramer. Cf. Nixon Nixon, J.A., “Health and Sickness in the Merchant Navy to 1815”, Proceedings of Royal Society of Medicine 17 (1944), “Section of the History of Medicine” (1943–), p. 512. Cf. Yuzuan Yizong jinjian in Qinding Siku quanshu (1987 edition) vol. 782, pp. 344–347. For a modern edition of the text, see Yizong jinjian. (Beijing: Renmin weisheng chubanshe, 2001). The passage is found in vol. 2, pp. 316–319. For further discussion, see Mathieu Torck, “Maritime Travel and the Question of Provisions and Scurvy in a Chinese context”, in Hans-Ulrich Vogel (ed.), East Asian Science, Technology and Medicine 23 (2005), pp. 70–73. 78 Mathieu Torck ease that has acquired its particular notoriety in western maritime history, it is of interest to determine whether a similar pattern of cases characterized the long history of maritime activities in China and Asia. To this purpose, I will first address the question of the provisioning aboard seagoing junks in general in order to create the necessary background. This will make it possible to arrive at a conjunction of military and maritime matters subsequently. As it appears from wide searches of the sources relating to maritime history, the provisions for sailors do not constitute the kind of topic that would be widely documented in our pre-modern or early modern sources. However important the food issue may be in seafaring life, it remains a tiny aspect which does not easily find its way into the written sources. Nonetheless, there are some peculiar cases in Chinese maritime history that shed light on the micro-history of diet and the physical experience of travelling aboard Chinese and other Asian countries’ wooden sea craft. There is the experience of the Buddhist monk, Faxian ⌋亥 (377–422), who returned by sea from his sojourn in India as early as the fifth century.7 In the work entitled the Gaoseng Faxian zhuan 儎‫⌋ܝ‬亥 ۩ (Biography of the Eminent Monk Faxian), which contains the earliest extant Chinese description of an actual sea voyage, the horror of shipwreck, drifting and food shortages are described, which Faxian had to undergo while crossing the Indian Ocean and the Chinese seas. Furthermore, in the fourteenth century, the Arabian traveller, Ibn Battuta, speaks of Chinese junks being equipped with small gardens, much in the way in which the Dutch in the seventeenth century, from time to time, would attempt to install wooden tubs aboard their ships in order to obtain a regular supply of fresh vegetables. 8 Moreover, there are the rather exceptional large-scale sea voyages to the countries of the Indian Ocean headed by the Ming ᱄ Dynasty eunuch, Zheng He 䝣 ૂ 9 (1371–1433), who commanded fleets crewed by many thousands, which posed a serious challenge in terms of provisioning.10 7 8 9 10 Cf. Gaoseng Faxian zhuan in TaishŇ, vol. 51, T2085, p. 866, a15–b2. For a translation see e.g. Herbert A. Giles, The Travels of Fa-hsien. (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1956), p. 78. H. A. R. Gibb, Ibn Battuta – Travels in Asia and Africa 1325–1354. (New Delhi: Munshiram Manoharlal, 1986, first published in 1929, Oriental Reprint), pp. 235–236. For a reference to the cultivation of vegetables aboard Dutch ships see S. P. L’H. Naber, Reisebeschreibungen von Deutsche Beamten und Kriegslenten in dienst der Niederländischen West- und Ost-Indischen Kompagnien, 1602–1797. (The Hague: M. Nijhoff, 1932), vol. 8, p. 9. In order to learn about this practice and the work in question, the aforementioned standard work by Kenneth Carpenter proved crucial. For a lengthy discussion of Zheng He’s life and the voyages see L. Carrington Goodrich and Chaoying Fang, Dictionary of Ming Biography. (New York and London: Columbia University Press, 1976), pp. 194–200. Primary sources for the study of Zheng He’s voyages are plentiful but occassionally fragmentary. The travel accounts, Yingya shenglan ♑⏥ओ㿳 (The Overall Survey of the Ocean’s Shores) by Ma Huan 俢↗ (fl. 1413–1451), Xingcha shenglan ᱕ ओ㿳 (The Overall Survey of the Star Raft) by Fei Xin 䋱‫( ؗ‬1388–?), and Xiyang fanguo zhi 㾵⍁㭹ുᘍ (Record of the Foreign Countries in the Western Oceans) by Gong Zhen ䷅ ⨃ , have very little to say regarding the practical living conditions aboard the junks while plying the waves of the Indian Ocean. Gong Zhen, however, refers to the presence of supply ships in the fleets and the consumption of tea. Cf. Xiang Da Travelling the strait 79 While some of these cases may be considered as exceptional rather than the general rule and it might generally be accepted that the junks would never venture far from the coast, this does not signify that the Chinese sailors were incapable of staying out at sea for a long time without regularly calling at ports in order to replenish their food reserves. This is illustrated, for instance, by a peculiar collection of ships’ reports, called TŇsen fusetsu gaki ୆㡯仞䃠ᴮ (Reports of Rumours from Chinese Ships), as contained in the Ka-i hentai 㨥཭䇀ខ (Metamorphosis from Civilised to Barbarian). The reports were compiled on behalf of the daimyŇ ཝ੃ of Nagasaki 䮭ፄ, in which a Japanese interpreter would question the captain of the incoming Chinese ships about the details of the voyage. The reports themselves provide fragmentary but clarifying data about the living conditions aboard Chinese junks. From these documents, it also appears that the sailing times between Southeast Asia and Nagasaki varied from between 47 and 85 days (e.g. between Java and Nagasaki). 11 This is definitely sufficient time for a disease like scurvy to develop, as it usually showed its face after twelve to fifteen weeks of consuming deficient diets. One report in the Ka-i hentai from 1688 describes how a Chinese junk coming from Kelapa in Java had to make a detour to Xiamen to procure an extra extra provisions. It reads as follows: “(…) ਩ҁᰛ䲆ʉૢɷ12੝࠰㡯ԋȽ᯲⍁ѣȽ≪҅㖭ᡆ⭩ُʉԎȽ‫ޣ‬ᴾӂॷ‫ޣ‬ᰛʉ ᓾ䮶ɦ㡯ʰᇺɹȽ≪㯠䠄㨒ҁ⭞ᝅԋُ㙂Ƚ⮬ᴾпᰛʉᓾ䮶࠰㡯ԋ㖭⑗ʨ⭩ُȽ ᓾ䮶ɦ㡯ᇺɹ⭩᯲ُཌȽ⮦ുҁ൦ɦ࡛ʉҎʨᇺɹ⭩ُܶʠ❗ҁȽ (…)”13 “After we left Kelapa, we began to run out of drinking water at sea. On the 26th day of the 6th month [23 July 1688], we called at Xiamen to procure water, fuel and vegetables, and we left there on the 3rd day of this month. We did not stop anywhere else, apart from Xia men (…)” 14 The presence of vegetables in the diet of East Asian sailors is further attested in several other sources, such as the Liuqiuguo zhilüe ⨿⨹ുᘍ⮛ (Account of the Liuqiu 11 12 13 14 (ed.), Xiyang fanguo zhi, (Beijing: Zhonghua Shuju, 1961), p. 12. and p. 16. Qianwen ji ࢃ㚔䁎 (Traditions of Past Affairs), written somewhat later, by Zhu Yunming (1460–1526), provides interesting listings of the various categories of personnel in the fleet, among which were 180 physicians who attended to the crew’s health. Cf. Qianwen ji in Shen Jiefu ⊾ㇶ⭡ (comp.), Jilu huibian ㌶䤺ᖏ㐞, vol. 70. Edited by Wang Yunwu ⧁䴨ӊ. (Taibei: Taiwan shangwu yinshuguan, 1969), j. 212, p. 37. Cf. Ishii Yoneo, The Junk Trade from Southeast Asia: translations from TŇsen Fusetsu-gaki, 1674– 1723. (Singapore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, 1998), p. 5. Ishii’s work is the first to provide selected translations from the Kai hentai. This is a rare kanji consisting of the mouth-radical ਙ (left position) and ⮏ (right position). Kai hentai 㨥཭䇀ខ (Metamorphosis from Civilized to Barbarian) by Hayashi Harukatsu ᷍ᱛओ (1618–1680) (also Hayashi Shunsai ᷍ᱛ喁 or GahŇ ᷍厔匩) and Hayashi Nobuatsu ᷍‫ؗ‬㈚ (1644–1732), with an introduction by Ura Ren’ichi ⎜ᓿж. (TŇkyŇ: TŇyŇ bunko, 1958–1959), vol. 2, j. 15, pp. 1001–1002. For technical reasons the old kana’s (hentaigana) from the original sŇrŇ and yori have been replaced respectively by the kanji ُ and ᯲. Ishii Yoneo, The Junk Trade from Southeast Asia: translations from TŇsen Fusetsu-gaki, 1674–1723 (1998), p. 215. Mathieu Torck 80 Islands, 1757) by Zhou Huang ઞ➂ (1714–1785),15 in which he describes a Chinese embassy to the Ryukyu Islands in 1756 which was aimed at bringing imperial letters to the local ruler in the light of the recognition of his rulership by the Qing.16 The usually relatively short sea voyage between the mainland and the island kingdom, on this occasion became an ordeal, when a storm prevented the Chinese from approaching the island. On the other hand, a proposal by some of the crewmembers to abandon the vessel temporarily was countered by the officials. Yet, as the wind grew ever stronger, they turned to the goddess of the sea to make a decision.17 The goddess replied: “ɉ仞घྸ↚, у㠪䙲ኧ㘻, ᐼᵠ䎭ҕȾ㝡ж䎭ᐼⷢᚥ㱶㊿⸙! ъḪȽ㭢Ƚ≪Ƚ㊩ ٬ⴗ, 䯁ሽ֋ᖶɊ? ѹ↘Ⱦ(…)”18 “(…) “As the wind is like this, you can not get near the mountain [i.e. island]. Your sails are not hoisted. If you release one sail and hoist it, it will be smashed to pieces in the twinkling of an eye. Moreover, your firewood, vegetables, drinking water and rice are all used up; where would you go? (…)”19 Another example of provisioning is contained in the Qingdai waijiao shiliao ␻ԙཌӚ ਨᯏ (Historical Materials on the Foreign Contacts during Qing Dynasty), where we find an account of the rescue operations of Japanese trade junks during the Daoguang 䚉‫ݿ‬ reign (1821–1851). 20 Equally illustrative is a memoir dating back to the year 1796 which is included in the Qing renzong shilu xuanji ␻ӷᇍሜ䥨䚮䕥 (Compilations from the Veritable Records of the Renzong Emperor of the Qing Dynasty). This document relates how the surrendering pirate leaders are incorporated into the Qing troops, and ex- 15 16 17 18 19 20 Zhou Huang (1714–1785) was a man from Fuzhou ⏠ᐔ in eastern Sichuan and obtained his jinshi 䙨 ༡ degree in 1737. Cf. Qing shigao jiaozhu ␻ ਨ ふ ṗ 䁱 by Guoshiguan (Taibei: Guoliguan yinhang, 1986), vol. 11, j. 328, pp. 9221–9222. A survey of the historical relations of imperial China and the Ryukyu may be found in Xie Bizhen 䅓ᗻ䴽, Zhongguo yu Liuqiu ѣു㠽⨿⨹ (China and the Ryukyu Islands). Xiamen: Xiamen daxue chubanshe, 1996. There is a substantial amount of literature on the sea goddess cult among Chinese sailors see, among many others, Bodo Wiethoff, “Der Staatliche Ma-tsu-Kult”, Zeitschrift der Deutschen Morgenländischen Gesellschaft 116:2 (1966), pp. 311–357, James L. Watson, “Standardizing the Gods: The Promotion of T’ien Hou (“Empress of Heaven”) Along the South China Coast, 960–1960”, in David Johnson Andrew J. Nathan and Evelyn S. Rawski (eds.), Popular Culture in Late Imperial China. (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1985), pp. 292–324; Klaas Ruitenbeek, Mazu, The Patroness of Sailors, Chinese Pictorial Art, in Artibus Asiae 58:3/4 (1999), pp. 281–329 and many others. Liuqiuguo zhilüe ⨿⨹ുᘍ⮛ (Account of the Liuqiu Islands) by Zhou Huang ઞ➂ (1757), in Taiwan wenxian congkan ਦ⚙ᮽ⦱ਘࡀ (Collection of Documents on Taiwan). (Taibei: Taiwan yinhang jingji yanjiu shi, 1971), vol. 293, p.146. Own translation (M. T.). Qingdai waijiao shiliao ␻ԙཌӚਨᯏ. (Beijing: Gugong Bowuguan, 1933), Daoguang chaoyi 䚉‫ݿ‬ ᵓж, p. 1b. Travelling the strait 81 plicitly states that they should receive the same food supplies (i.e. vegetables and grain rations) as the regular Qing naval forces.21 Apart from Japanese and Chinese sources, the actual living conditions aboard Chinese junks are also highlighted in the accounts of Europeans travellers and adventurers. The particular value of these sources cannot be neglected. They represent an almost photographical still-life of the situation in the field, whereby details are retained that would go unnoticed in other, less personal sources that rather highlight the commercial networks and the political order of the day. Thomas Forrest (c. 1729–1804) and Johannes Splinter Stavorinus (1739–1788), being but two examples of a large gallery, were both travelling around the Indonesian Archipelago in the latter part of the eighteenth century and had encountered Chinese junks during their wanderings. Both adventurers were driven by curiosity upon witnessing oriental seacraft and described in great detail what they saw on entering the vessel. Forrest, who served as an officer in the British Royal navy, recalled a Chinese junk that he encountered in Borneo in February of the year 1776. His observations about the tidiness aboard the ship are sincere. Much in the same way, Stavorinus, a Dutch sea captain, demonstrates a positive attitude in his evaluation of the seaworthiness of the Asian vessels and life aboard them. Stavorinus states explicitly: “The furnace for cooking was by the larboard side of the mainmast upon the deck; for these vessels have but one deck; and we saw the victuals dressed there, in a much cleaner and neater manner, than is practised on board of European ships”. 22 John Crawfurd, a British ambassador who visited the courts of Siam and Cochin China in 1822, speaks of Chinese (Fujianese) and Vietnamese sailors upon witnessing junks in the harbour of Singapore. 23 In his account he relates: “They pressed us to sit down, to eat with them, to drink tea with them, and to smoke their pipes. (…) The Chinese sailors are, of course, fed, and at sea receive salt pork, salt fish, occasionally poultry, with rice, and sour or salt krout; and, when in harbour, they receive fresh animal food and fresh vegetables”.24 Crawfurd’s description contains by far the most complete data we possess about the diet of Chinese sailors and, here again, we see the presence of vegetables in the daily diet. Very important also is the habit of drinking tea. A very popular beverage 21 22 23 24 Qing Renzong shilu xuanji ␻ӷᇍሜ䥨䚮䕥, in Taiwan wenxian congkan. (Taibei: Taiwan yinhang jingji yanjiu shi, 1963), vol. 178, pp. 4–5. Johannes Splinter Stavorinus, Voyages to the East-Indies (1969), pp. 286–287. On Crawfurd see John Bastin, “Malayan Portrets: John Crawfurd”, Malaya 3 (1954), pp. 697– 698. John Crawfurd, Journal of an Embassy to the Courts of Siam and Cochin China. (Kuala Lumpur, New York, London: Oxford University Press, 1967), pp. 48–49. 82 Mathieu Torck in China, the decoction of tea leaves proves to have a beneficial effect on health in various ways.25 The textual evidence may have highly conclusive value regarding the reconstruction of sailors’ diets, yet becomes more complete when confirmation is sought in traditions which reflect the habits of the past. In order to facilitate a more tangible overview of the dietary habits aboard Chinese junks, a visit to the former residence of the Cai 㭗 family in Zhangli ╩䠂 village in Nan’an ঍ᆿ in the vicinity of Quanzhou proved both useful and informative. At the site of the residential complex, the reminiscence of the flourishing maritime past of the Cai family is kept alive. Cai Qichang 㭗 ੥ ᱂ (?–?), who constructed the impressive complex in Nan’an together with his son Cai Zishen 㭗䋽␧ (1839–1911), was a merchant who obtained his wealth through trade in the Philippines. Today, the maritime traditions are still recounted by the descendants of the wealthy trade family. A local guide, a descendant himself, recounted how, aboard ships to the Philippines, tea was drunk in great quantities and, among the foodstuffs, there were salted white radishes bailuobo ⲳ㩓঒. Although analysis shows that this product does not contain a substantial amount of vitamin C, the consumption of vegetables snacks may be indicative of sailors’ diets during short sea voyages. 26 Usually, the ships would not take more than one or two weeks to reach the Philippines.27 Taiwan in the focus: travelling, naval operations and provisions Like the Ryşkyş Islands and the Philippines, Taiwan is a geographical entity that played an important role in the commercial and political history of the “East Asian Mediterranean”. Especially from the beginning of the seventeenth century onwards, Taiwan floated within the focus of interest of Chinese, Japanese and western traders who were in search of mercantile profit. In addition to its place within the network of commercial relations and as an object of political aspiration, the history of the island offers some interesting cases regarding the study of the material culture relating to sailors’ diets. The region is undoubtedly highly maritime but it goes without 25 26 27 Tea contains among others things, phytates, a nutrient with the capacity of keeping vitamin C longer in the body due to reducing iron absorption Cf. I. Zijp, O. Korver, L. Tijburg, “Effect of tea and other dietary factors on iron absorption”, Critical Reviews in Food Science and Nutrition 40:5 (2000), pp. 371–398; see also Mathieu Torck, Avoiding the Dire Straits, pp. 224–227. I thank Prof. Dr. Joris Delanghe of the Department of Clinical Biochemistry of Ghent University Hospital for fruitful collaboration in the light of these analyses. For a detailed account of historical background and architectural features of the Cai residence, see Zhang Lianying ᕫ㬤㤧, “Cong lishi shang kan Minnan Huaqiao yu Feilubin renmin de youhao guanxi” ᗔ↭ਨрⵁ䯟঍㨥‫܇‬䕵㨨ᗁ䌉Ӱ≇Ⲻਁླ䰒‫( ׸‬The friendly relations between the people of the Philippines and the overseas Chinese from Minnan seen from a historical perspective), Huaqiao shi 㨥‫܇‬ਨ 3 (1985) (History of the Overseas Chinese), edited by the Jinjiang diqu Huaqiao lishi xuehui choubei zu ᱿⊕൦ॶ㨥‫↭܇‬ਨᆮᴹ㊂‫㍺ۏ‬, pp. 30–45, and Wang Lan ⧁ᎆ, Luo Qi 㖻ཽ, “Caishi guminju jianzhuqun 㭗≅≇ቻᔰㇿ㗚”, in Beifang jiaotong daxue xuebao ्ᯯ Ӛ䙐ཝᆮᆮ๧ 27:1 (2003), pp. 87–93; see also Mathieu Torck, Avoiding the Dire Straits, pp. 203–206. Travelling the strait 83 saying that protracted sailing is not a matter of relevance here. In terms of sailing distance, the East Asian maritime region is a relatively limited expanse compared to the extended routes to Southeast Asia. 28 From the above mentioned textual fragments, it has already become clear that sea voyages would be jeopardized rather by adverse winds and currents, occasional storms, sandbanks or pirates than by dietary problems. The treacherous aspect of sailing in this maritime environment constitutes a topic which is commonly evoked in the relevant accounts. As an illustration may serve the travel diary, the Pihai jiyou 㼞⎭㌶䚀 (Small Sea Travelogue) by Yu Yonghe 䛷≮⋩ (fl. 1697),29 a fine example of one of the earliest accounts of Taiwan after the Qing conquest.30 Yu, who was an official sent to Taiwan to search for sulphur springs after the explosion of the gunpowder stores in Rongcheng Ήค (Fujian Province) in 1696, makes several comments about sailing the straits: “(…) 䀾㠠ӂॷжᰛཝᰜ䮶࠰⍁䗺㠰䜗, ࠗ䏀഑ᲓདྷȾ⎭⍁❗䚉䠂ਥび, ᜕䀾ԛᴪ, ࠼Დདྷ⛰ॷᴪ, ੇ䄸ᓾ䮶㠩㠰⚙, ≪ぁॷжᴪঀ: 㠠ཝᰜ䮶йᴪ㠩◄⒌, 㠠◄⒌഑ ᴪঀ㠩咵㙩䮶Ⱦ仞丼ࡽ❬; ੜࡽ, ॷᰛ㺂жᴪ, ᵠ᱉ᵕҕȾ (…)” 31 “It took more than four days from the time we left Dadan Men until we arrived at Taiwan. One cannot count the distance on the open sea, so we can only calculate by the number of watches, in which one day and night is divided into ten watches. It is said that the Xiamen to Taiwan sea route is eleven and a half watches; from Dadan Men to Penghu, seven watches; from Penghu to Lu-er-men four and a half watches. This counts on favourable winds. If there are none, it will take ten days to cover what is usually covered in one watch, but one can never be sure.”32 Yu’s description leaves little doubt that, although the distances covered are theoretically negligible, danger was never far off.33 While the geographical and climatic 28 29 30 31 32 33 Cmpare, for example, to the sea journeys between Nagasaki and Java that are documented in the Kai hentai. Yu Yonghe (style Canglang ⓺⎠) was a native from Renhe ӷૂ (Hangzhou). For more biographical details see the discussion in the introduction to the text (p. 7) by Fang Hao ᯯ䊠, p. 7. Cf. Yu Yonghe 䛷≮⋩, Pihai jiyou 㼞⎭㌶䚀, in Taiwan wenxian congkan. (Taibei: Taiwan yinhang jingji yanjiushi, 1955), vol. 44. For an analysis of the Qing imperial views on the “barbarian” indigenous populations of Taiwan as reflected in Yu’s account see Emma Teng, “Taiwan as a Living Museum: Tropes of Anachronism in Late-Imperial Chinese Travel Writing”, Harvard Journal of Asiatic Studies 59:2 (1999), p. 462 ff. Pihai jiyou in Taiwan wenxian congkan, vol. 44, p. 8. Macabe Keliher, Small Sea Travel Diaries – Yu Yonghe’s Records of Taiwan. (Taipei: SMC Publishing Inc., 2004), pp. 29–30. Further on in his account, Yu touches upon the ‘Black Ditch’ (Heishuigou 唇≪ⓓ) a peculiar area in the middle of the Strait which lured ships into trouble, cf. Pihai jiyou, p. 5, Macabe Keliher, Small Sea Travel Diaries, p. 23: see, for additional remarks on this phenomenon, Laurence G. Thompson, “The junk passage across the Taiwan Strait: two early Chinese accounts” (1968), pp. 192–193, note 44. For a discussion of the sea routes in the area see Ng Chin-keong, Trade and Society: the Amoy Network on the China Coast, 1683–1735. (Singapore: Singapore University Press, 1983), pp. 149–152. 84 Mathieu Torck circumstances are often mentioned in Yu Yonghe’s record, the food question is almost omitted. Usually, the failure to mention concrete data about the food issue in Chinese travel accounts from the pre-modern and early modern periods is anything but exceptional. After all, this is a highly specific topic, yet the absence of any reference in the case of the Pihai jiyou may, after all, be regarded as rather surprising in view of the very personal way of writing that typifies this travel diary. The only reference to the sailors’ provisions is when his ship is moored at the Penghu Islands ◄⒌ and a fisherman brings crab and shark which, as he says, “I take to the chef to prepare for lunch…”.34 The passage illustrates the fact that pre-modern junks did have a galley or at least a place where meals could be prepared. This is not only documented by the primary textual evidence but also appears from the reconstruction maps of ship designs. 35 Furthermore, from Yu’s account, it appears that the kitchen was manned by a cook, paoren ᓌӰ as Yu Yonghe calls him, who seemed to have served in the crew on a permanent basis. Indeed, the junks involved in coastal as well as sea-going trade usually had a storekeeper (zongpu 㑳䤠) aboard who took care of the provisions and the daily menu.36 The term does not occur in Yu’s account but it does appear in an earlier travel account about Taiwan – in fact, the earliest known of its kind – the Taihai shicha lu 㠰⎭ֵ 䤺 (Record of a Tour of Duty on the Raft in the Taiwan Sea), written by Huang Shujing 哹ਊ⫛ (1681–1757).37 For lack of more specific data, we cannot linger too long over the exquisiteness of the dishes prepared by Yu’s chef, but at least we may assume that, for officials such as Yu Yonghe, some more refined dishes would have to be cooked than for the common sailors, fishermen or marines.38 34 35 36 37 38 Macabe Keliher, op. cit., p. 25. In the original: “(…) ֏ԛԎᓌӰ, ⭞ֆॾ⛀Ⱦ (…)” cf. Pihai jiyou, p. 7. As a good example may serve here the cross-section of a Jiangsu shachuan ⋏㡯 in Joseph Needham, Science and Civilisation in China. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1971), pp. 400–401. See Huang Shujing 哹ਊ⫛, Taihai shicha lu 㠰⎭ֵ 䤺, in Taiwan wenxian congkan, vol. 4. (Taibei: Taiwan yinhang jingji yanjiushi, 1957), pp. 17–18. Huang was the younger brother of the scholar-official Huang Shulin 哹ਊ⩩ (1672–1756). In 1722, Huang Shujing was sent to Taiwan in his capacity as provincial censor on an inspection mission following the rebellion of Zhu Yigui ᵧж䋪 (?–c. 1721) cf. Arthur W. Hummel, Eminent Chinese of the Ch’ing Period (1644–1912). (Washington: Government Printing Office, 1943), pp. 344–345. More clarifications regarding the composition of junk crews can be found in Laurence G. Thompson, “The junk passage across the Taiwan Strait: two early Chinese accounts” (1968), pp. 184–185 and Ng Chin-keong, Trade and Society: the Amoy Network on the China Coast, 1683–1735 (1983), p. 149.; Leonard Blussé, “Chinese trade to Batavia during the days of the V.O.C.”, in “Trade and Shipping in the Southern Seas”, Selected Readings from Archipel 18 (1979), (SPAFA, 1984), pp. 125–126. In general, the documentation as presented above suggests that sea travel was always a hazardous undertaking and comfort seems to have been basic. In that sense, we may perhaps conclude that meals aboard the Chinese junks, in spite of the information we get from Western sources, were sometimes rather on the modest side. Travelling the strait 85 In general, the food supply cannot have posed a huge problem unless a ship were blown adrift 39 or the vessel formed part of a larger unit. That the operational movements and readiness for battle of a naval fleet largely depended on logistics is all too obvious. On the other hand, the distances to be covered did not play such a key role. Rather, the accessibility and availability of provisions decided upon whether or not a military unit could reach its preconceived goals. Naturally, this concerns not only navies but also standing continental armies. The fundamental importance attached to the food supply helped this item to find its way into a wide variety of sources. The reasons for this are twofold: first of all, there is the profound recognition of the fact that an army cannot exist without a well-elaborated supply system. Already in the earliest works on military theory, such as the Sunzi bingfa ᆡᆆޫ⌋ (Sunzi’s Art of War), the food supply issue was well understood and became an integral part of military writings ever after.40 In the classical work from the Song Dynasty, the Wujing zongyao ↜㏉㑳㾷 (Essentials of the Military Classics) by Zeng Gongliang ᴴ‫ޢ‬Ӥ (998–1078) and Ding Du зᓜ (990–1053), a detailed list may be found of many different army provisions and supply techniques for soldiers in case they were forced to subsist on survival diets under extreme circumstances.41 The second reason for recording the military food supplies is closely related to the first: feeding armed forces is expensive, even to such an extent that expeditions could not be drafted without detailed calculations of the costs involved, including the soldiers’ payments and all kinds of supplies, of which food formed an important proportion.42 It is mainly in this regard that we should understand the references to army rations in sections such as the shihuo zhi 伕䋞ᘍ (treatises on food and commerce) and the bingzhi ޫᘍ (military treatises) of the dynastic histories and the local gazetteers (difangzhi ൦ᯯᘍ). The details concern the number of soldiers in the armies and army stations. Information is provided regarding the cost of supplies needed to guarantee the effective functioning of the garrison. On occasion, the 39 40 41 42 There are a number of recorded drifting accidents in the East Asian seas, most notably those of Japanese sea travellers drifting towards the Chinese coasts or out onto the Pacific Ocean; for a partial survey, see Endymion Wilkinson, Chinese History. A Manual. (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press), pp. 757–758. For a detailed study, see Katherine Plummer, The Shogun’s Reluctant Ambassadors: Japanese Sea Drifters in the North Pacific. (Portland: Oregon Historical Society, 1991, North Pacific Studies Series, No. 17). Cf. Sunzi in Ralph D. Sawyer (transl.), The Seven Military Classics. (Boulder, San Francisco, Oxford: Westview Press, 1993), p. 159–160. Wujing zongyao (qianji) ↜㏉㑳㾷ࢃ䳼 (Essentials of the Military Classics) by Zeng Gongliang ᴴ‫ޢ‬ Ӥ and Ding Du зᓜ (Song), Ming Zhengde jian kanben ᱄↙ᗭ䯉ࡀᵢ (edition from the Zheng He Period in the Ming Dynasty), Zhongguo gudai keji tulu congbian chuji ѣുਚԙ〇ᢶൌ䥨ਘ㐞 ࡓ䳼 (4) (First Collection from the Compilation of Books, Records and Maps from Ancient Chinese Science and Technology). (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1959), vol. 2, j. 5, paragraph 6, pp. 17b-19a. On military finance and supplying in the Qing era, see e.g. Dai Yingcong, “Yingyong shengxi: Miltitary Entrepreneurship in the High Qing Period, 1700–1800”, Late Imperial China 26:2 (2005), pp. 1–67. In comparative respect, supplying and finance in Western military history has been investigated in great detail by Martin van Creveld, Supplying War: Logistics from Wallenstein to Patton. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1977). 86 Mathieu Torck sources only provide detailed records of the number of troops stationed in a particular region as well as the costs of maintaining them. As an example related to the history of Taiwan may serve here the Taiwan fuzhi 㠰⚙ᓒᘍ (Gazetteer of Taiwan Prefecture) from 1685, in which the author, the Qing magistrate, Jiang Yuying 㭙∉㤧 (?-?), preserves meticulous records of the different categories and number of troops stationed in Taiwan. In the continuation of this work, his colleague, Gao Gongqian 儎ᤧҴ (fl. 1691–1696), calculates the costs of the salaries of the soldiers on duty.43 Many sources, like the Taiwan fuzhi, which document this particular aspect of military organisation do not further specify the kind of supplies and, thus, do not allow us to peep into the army cooks’ caldrons. Junliang 䔃㌝, junshi 䔃伕, kouliang ਙ㌝, liangmi 䠅㊩ and other similar terminology often recur in the relevant primary source materials, but these expressions do not suggest anything particular, beyond cereal staple food. 44 In most cases, an amount of money to buy some additional foodstuffs is understood to be included. However, from the point of view of nutrition, it is difficult to see how armies in action could survive on staple food alone. Meagre rations limited to grain would easily provoke an upsurge in nutritional deficiency disease, of which scurvy, as described above, was a gruesome representative. Taking into account the history of Chinese food culture, it appears natural to assume that at least some vegetables accompanied these cereals. Fortunately, evidence can be obtained from a few rare instances, where our sources provide a more complete view of the soldiers’ diet. One such document is a memorial to the imperial throne written by the Ming general, Zeng Xian ᴴ䣇 (?–1548),45 who, shortly before the mid-sixtenth century, worked out an estimate of the expenses that would be needed to retake the Ordos area from the Mongols: “(…) ԀᬢྍҁޫȾ᪎䚮俢䔃‫ޣ‬㩢ӰȾ∄Ӱᰛ㎜㺂㌝жॽӊਾȾ∄ᰛ䀾㺂㌝ғⲴ ⸩Ⱦԛӊॷᰛ⛰ᵕȾާ 䂨㺂㌝഑㩢ӊॹ⸩Ⱦ∄㊩ж⸩ᣎ䢶ж‫ޟ‬ӂ䥘θާ䀾䢶 ӊ㩢഑ॹ‫ޟ‬Ⱦ∄Ӱᣎ咳㨒䢶ж࠼Ⱦᰛ䂨䢶‫ޟⲴޣ‬Ⱦ(…)”46 “(…) Now, I shall draw an estimate about the preparations of the harnessed troops. I select 60,000 mounted troops. Every man receives one sheng 47 and five he 48 of grain per day. For every day [an amount of] 900 dan49 of grain is calculated over a period of 50 days. This totals 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 Cf. Taiwan fuzhi 㠰⚙ᓒᘍ. (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1985), vol.1, j. 8, p. 9 (p. 210–211) and j. 5. pp. 66 ff. (p. 772 ff.). Many of these terms are included in the useful tool for military terminology, see Chen Gaochun 䲩儎ᱛ Zhongguo gudai junshi wenhua da cidian ѣുਚԙ䔃Ӂᮽौཝ䗣ޮ (Dictionary of Military Matters in Ancient China). (Beijing: Changzheng chubanshe, 1992), p. 936 ff. A biographical note on Zeng can be found in L.C. Goodrich, Chaoying Fang, Dictionary of Ming Biography (1976), pp. 1303–1304. Chen Zilong 䲩ᆆ嗃 (1608–1647), Huang Ming jingshi wenbian ⲽ᱄㏉ьᮽ㐞 (Ming Documents on Statecraft), (Taibei: Tailian guofeng chubanshe, 1968), vol. 90, j. 233: pp. 19–20. One sheng ॽ in the Ming Dynasty equals 1 l. Cf. Hanyu dacidian (1994), vol. 13, p. 13. One he ਾ in the Ming Dynasty equals 0.1 l. Cf. ibidem. One dan ⸩ in the Ming Dynasty equals 70.8 kg. Cf. Hanyu dacidian (1994), vol. 13, p. 19. Travelling the strait 87 45,000 dan of grain. Every dan of rice costs 1 liang 50 and 2 qian51 of silver, a total cost of 54,000 liang. Every man costs 1 fen52 of silver for pickled vegetables per day. (…)” The presence of salted vegetables, as reflected in Zeng’s memorial, does make a difference as it points to a more stable and, thus, ‘safer’ diet in terms of nutrition for the soldiers.53 The yancai 咳㨒, as mentioned here, were and remain a common food product in China and have a long history.54 It goes without saying that, in the provisioning of troops, the tuntian system played a key role. As early as the Western Han Dynasty, farms run by farmersoldiers were established in the border regions in order to create a supply system for the local armies and thereby diminish the burden of army expenditure on the treasury. At certain moments, if the production of supply goods proved insufficient, the local population had to contribute. 55 Data documenting this are to be found in the aforementioned shihuo zhi sections of the dynastic histories. One such illustrative and, in its description, most detailed example is a passage in the History of the Ming (Ming shi ᱄ਨ), which speaks of grain 哛, rice ㊩, and beans 䉼 , among other necessities. 56 Returning to the issue of military diets, the shihuo zhi section mentioned here is of value. Apart from Zeng Xian’s cereals and salted vegetables, beans and rice could form the core of the soldier’s daily diet. The difficulty connected with the supplying of armies that are stationed and operate in border regions becomes all the clearer when we address the specific case of the island of Taiwan, where mainland and maritime environments meet. The seventeenth century witnessed a particularly tumultuous and decisive period in Taiwan’s history. In a span of a hundred years, the island was probed by the Spanish, occupied by the Dutch, turned into a bulwark by the Zheng clan, and eventually conquered by Qing forces and incorporated into the empire. The military operations on China’s southeast coast and Taiwan around the mid-seventeenth century undoubtedly posed a challenge in terms of provisioning for the coastal defence and the supply programmes for the standing armies and navies. As a case study may serve here the short period of events involving the Zheng 䝣 clan; it goes without saying that food was a fundamental issue. Although the maritime region in which Zheng Chenggong 䝣ᡆࣕ (1624–1662) and his troops operated was relatively limited, he was aware of the importance of supplies and it remained a permanent con50 51 52 53 54 55 56 One liang ‫ ޟ‬of silver (or tael) in the Ming Dynasty equals 37 g. Cf. ibidem. One qian 䥘 in the Ming Dynasty equals 3.7 g. Cf. ibidem. One fen ࠼ in the Ming Dynasty equals 0.37 g. Cf ibidem. Further research is needed in order to shed further light on the contents of military diets and the organisation of the military supply lines in pre-modern China. On the process and the history of salting and pickling vegetables, see H. T. Huang, Science and Civilisation in China Vol. 6: Biology and Biological Technology, Part 5: Fermentations and Food Science. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000), pp. 416–419. For a discussion of the tuntian system, see, for example, William G. Crowell, Government Land Policies and Systems in Early Imperial China. (Ph.D. diss. University of Washington, Seattle, 1979), pp. 144–182. Ming shi, j. 82, shihuo 6, kuaiji ᴹ䀾. (Beijing Zhonghua shuju, 1974), p. 2005. 88 Mathieu Torck cern. As Zeng Jingmin ᴴ㏉≇ shows in great detail, the supplies did have a profound influence on the course of events during that era. In their strategy related to supplying Zheng Chenggong and his collaborators resorted to a variety of techniques in order to keep his troops well fed. Before 1649, he could still rely on the wealth of the Zheng clan to buy the necessary supplies for operations in the shortterm, although the expansion of his power base and, thus, also of the needs of his military forces increased the pressure on logistics. Gradually, Zheng Chenggong’s troops turned to the use of force to secure provisions. Supplies would have to come from grain taxes or through “luedi quliang ⮛൦਌㌝”, supplies from the conquered territory. In the very act of retreating from the mainland to occupy Taiwan with a force of 25,000, Zheng Chenggong would experience provisional problems and come to rely on the production of the local populace. In the relevant sources, very seldom can more clarifying data be obtained regarding the kind of provisions that were procured, but there is a rewarding exception. During the conquest of the island, supplying became particularly troublesome as grain shipments failed to reach the troops and, in July 1661, Zheng Chenggong had to procure sweet potatoes (fanshu ⮠ 㯥 ) from among the local population. 57 Although these tubers most probably did not form part of the standard daily diet of Koxinga’s soldiers, they must have signified a substantial nutritional intake for their health which would have served to protect them to some extent.58 This emergency foraging undoubtedly brought temporary relief, but in the long-term, the troops would have to be supplied on a more structured basis. In this respect, it can be understood why, already, from the beginning of Zheng Chenggong’s first arrival on the island, the tuntian እ ⭦ system was installed. Later, as more troops came over to the island, it was thoroughly expanded in order to secure the army’s food supplies.59 57 58 59 Yang Ying ᾀ㤧, Congzheng shilu ᗔᖷሜ䤺 (Veritable Records of Zheng Chenggong), in Taiwan lishi wenxian congkan. (Taibei: Taibei yinhang jingji yanjiushi 㠰⚙䢶㺂㏉☕⺅ガᇚ, 1958), vol. 32, p. 191. See Zeng Guangzheng, “Ming Zheng shiqi Gaoxiong diqu de tuoken” ᱄䝣ᱸᵕ儎 䳺൦ॶⲺᤉ໴ (The cultivation of land in the Gaoxiong area during the times of the Zhengs in the Ming Dynasty), Kaohsiung Historiography 3 (2006), pp. 122–128. The sweet potato (Ipomeia batatas) is a highly nutritious plant, introduced into China in the 16th century. For an analysis of the plant’s introduction into China, see Patricia O’Brien, “The sweet potato: its origin and dispersal”, American Anthropologist 74:3 (1972), pp. 346–365. On the vitamin C contents in sweet potatoes, see Guan Yueqing, Wu Ting, Lin Miao, and Ye Jiannong, ”Determination of pharmacologically active ingredients in sweet potato (Ipomoea batatas L.) by capillary electrophoresis with electrochemical detection”, Journal of Agriculture and Food Chemistry 54 (1) (2006), pp. 24–28. For a year-by-year analysis of Zheng Chenggong’s supply policies see Zeng Jingmin ᴴ㏉≇, “Zheng Chenggong fu Tai qianhou de liangshi zhengce 䝣ᡆࣕགྷ㠰ࢃᗂⲺ㌝伕᭵ㆌ” (The policy on food supply before and after Zheng Chenggong’s retreat on Taiwan), in Xu Zaiquan 䁧൞‫ ޞ‬and Wang Wei ⧁‫( ٿ‬eds.), Zheng Chenggong yanjiu 䝣ᡆࣕ⹊ガ (Research on Zheng Chenggong). (Beijing: Zhongguo shehui kexue chubanshe, 1999), pp. 188–198. A good overview of the crucial events in and around seventeenth century Taiwan can be found in John E. Wills, Jr, “The seventeenth-century transformation: Taiwan under the Dutch and the Cheng regime”, in Travelling the strait 89 After Taiwan was incorporated into the Qing Empire, logistics, naturally, remained an important factor. Since remote times, the island’s potential only had to meet the demands of the aboriginal population, yet Taiwan had now become a prefecture which formed part of Fujian and would function as a grain source for the garrisons in that province.60 As a well-supplied and well-paid army is a fundamental factor in the maintenance of stability in the region, as well as among the troops themselves, the topic of the supply of the stationed troops recurs in the official documents. At the end of the eighteenth century, army rations were a frequent theme in the imperial reports. As an example may serve a memorial to the throne (tiben 亂ᵢ) by the Manchu censor, Jueluo (Gioro) Wulana 㿰㖻Ճ᣿㍃ (?–1795), governor-general61 of both Zhejiang and Fujian provinces (Min Zhe zongdu 䯟⎏㑳⶙), as preserved in the Ming Qing shiliao ᱄␻ਨᯏ. Among the military supplies, the official mentions sweet potatoes, called by the name digua ൦⬒, which are synonymous with the aforementioned fanshu, and, in his calculations of the cost of food supplies, frequently mentions kouliang yancai ਙ㌝咳㨒.62 In terms of food supplies, Jueluo Wulana’s report reflects the kind of balanced diet that is to be expected if the goal is to keep a standing army in decent physical shape. Conclusion The provisions of sailors and soldiers in pre-modern and early modern China seem to have been characterised by the presence of vegetables. Rarely in maritime history would Chinese junks cover intercontinental distances, so diet in general did not cause any major concern. As some of the routes between East and Southeast Asia happened to be quite lengthy, food occasionally became a serious issue, but never to the extent which is reflected by our sources regarding Western long-distance seafaring. Continental armies seem to have been more prone to suffering from nutritional deficiency diseases. One medical text very clearly refers to occurrences of scurvy in the Qing army, yet these must have been relatively rare. In any case, this raises the question of what happened when the supply lines were disrupted. In many sources, the only food component mentioned is rice or grain, yet, if the soldiers had subsisted on the cereals alone, this would have led to catastrophy. Complementary evidence was acquired through various sources documenting the presence of vegetables in army diets. The very fact that vegetables were included in the menu or that at least some money was provided to buy an addition in the form of vegetables shows that there was a tendency to work out a stable and nutritionally 60 61 62 Murray Rubinstein (ed.), Taiwan: A New History. (New York/London: M.E. Sharpe, 1999), pp. 84–106. John R. Sheperd, “The island frontier of the Ch’ing, 1684–1780”, in Murray Rubinstein, (ed.), Taiwan: A New History. (New York, London: M. E. Sharpe, 1999), pp.124–129. A biography can be found in Qing Shigao jiaozhu, vol. 12, j. 339, pp. 9444–9446. Ming Qing shiliao ᱄␻ਨᯏ (Historical Materials on Ming and Qing), Min Zhe zongdu Jueluo Wulana tiben 䯟⎏㑳⶙亂ᵢ, wubian ᡀ㐞. (Taibei: Zhongyang yanjiuyuan lishi yuyan yanjiusuo, 1987), p. 409. 90 Mathieu Torck balanced diet for soldiers. That the food issue becomes a priority in naval confrontations and may decide the outcome of military conflicts is richly illustrated by themes from Taiwan’s stormy history. Although the distances covered were relatively short, the long series of military confrontations on land and at sea created particularly challenging conditions for humans in their environment. Zheng Chenggong’s case show how crucial the factor of the food supplies is in the success or failure of military operations. In times of relative stability, the availability of food remained equally important for the standing armies. The necessary ingredients for the soldiers’ daily rations were provided by the tuntian system, the backbone of the Chinese military supply in this region, which was also extended to Taiwan, first by the Zhengs and later when the island had become the south-eastern maritime border of the Qing Empire. BIBLIOGRAPHY Historical Sources Congzheng shilu ᗔᖷሜ䤺 by Yang Ying ᾀ㤧, in Taiwan wenxian congkan 㠰⚙ᮽ⦱ਘࡀ. (Taibei: Taibei yinhang jingji yanjiushi 㠰⚙䢶㺂㏉☕⺅ガᇚ, 1958). 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Zijp, I., Korver, O., Tijburg, L., “Effect of tea and other dietary factors on iron absorption”, Critical Reviews in Food Science and Nutrition 40:5 (2000), pp. 371–398. 䘇ԙਦ⚙ऻつ㥬୼ (Powchong Tea Merchants) Ⲻ㠾䎭㠽୼ᾣ㌴㍑δ1895–1945ε ᵧᗭ㱣 Chu Te-lan жȽࢃ䀶 ѣുᱥ㥬㩿Ⲻ䠃㾷⭕⭘൦㠽⎾䋱൦θҕᱥ 19 ь㌶ѣ㩿ԛࢃ⦞খь⮂ᐸ๪Ⲻ䕮 ࠰ཝുȾ⴮ቃ᯲ѣുθਦ⚙൦ᖘཐኧཐ⋩θ⎭ᤊ䔹儎Ⲻኧ൦փ᯲ѣ䜞‫څ‬ᶧҁ 㲋θ⎭ᤊ 200 ‫ޢ‬ተԛсⲺᒩ৕ѱ㾷փ᯲㾵঍䜞θ⎭ᤊᮮⲴ‫ޢ‬ተⲺю䲫θૂ㺞 䶘ᒩගθ䛀㐙∊䔹䲗ጣⲺਦ൦ࡽѱ㾷࠼վ᯲्䜞Ⱦਦ⚙्䜞ю䲫⭧᯲ൕ༚Ƚ ≙ⓡȽ☋ᓜȽ䲃䴞䠅ㅿ㠠❬⫦ູθᖾ䚟ਾṳฯ‫ݠ‬㢥૷つⲺ㥬θᡶԛ㌺㠠 19 ь㌶ѣ㩿䯁ခθቧᴿཌ୼ᣋ䋽㥬ᾣθሽ✅嗃㥬䚁䣭㗄ുθ✅嗃㥬࠰ਙⲺ䲼 ⴑθᑬऋ 19 ь㌶ᗂᵕऻつ㥬Ⲻ㠾䎭θ㥬ᾣⲲኋ㠩 1930 ᒪԙθ৾ᴿ㌻㥬ࣖ‫ുޛ‬ 䳑䋵᱉⍱ऋȾ1 ᴿ䰒ਦ⚙㥬ᾣਨⲺ⹊ガθ䔹ޭԙ㺞ᙝⲺ㪍֒ᴿφઞ៨ᮽ㐞㪍Ʌਦ⚙㏉☕ ਨɆжᴮθԛ㎧䀾䋽ᯏ࠼᷆↭ᒪּਦ⚙㥬Ⲻ⭕⭘䠅ૂ䕮࠰䠅Ⱦ䲩᝾⦿㪍Ʌਦ ्㑙㥬ᾣⲲኋਨɆθѱ㾷᧘䁄φ㥬ᾣⲺⓆ䎭Ƚᰛᬐᱸԙδ1895–1945 ᒪεⲺⲲ ኋȽㅢӂ⅗ь⮂ཝᡦ㎆ᶕδ1945 ᒪεᗂⲺⲲኋθԛ਀㥬㩿⭘䣭ૂ伨㥬ᮽौⴑ 㺂㠽‫ڛ‬ᓭᯯ䶘Ⲻ䰒‫׸‬Ⱦ᷍┵㌻㪍Ʌ㥬Ƚ㌌Ƚ⁕㞜ᾣ㠽ਦ⚙ҁ⽴ᴹ㏉☕䇀䚭 δ1860–1895εɆθԛ␻ԙᗂᵕਦ⚙㥬Ƚ㌌Ƚ⁕㞜⛰❜唔θ␧‫ࢌޛ‬᷆↚пཝ䕮 ࠰૷Ⲻ⭘ᾣⲲኋᑬ㎜ਦ⚙⽴ᴹ㏉☕Ⲻᖧ丵Ⱦ⋩৕᷍⴪Ӱ㪍Ʌ䘇ԙʷˍʷʆਦ ⚙φਦ⚙㥬ᾣʌ↭ਨⲺኋ䯁Ɇθࡽ䠓ቃਦ⚙㥬ᾣⲺ㠾䎭Ƚᰛᬐᱸԙऻつ㥬ᾣ ⲺⲲኋȽᇎ≇ቃ㥬ᾣⲺਃ៿Ƚ1930 㠽 1940 ᒪԙऻつ㥬䋵᱉Ƚਦ⚙㥬ᾣⲺ↭ਨ ᝅ㗟ㅿஅ亂θ‫ڐ‬Ҽᔙ⌑㠽䂩ⴗⲺ᧘䁄Ⱦ2 ᵢᮽᴿ䪇᯲ᰘᖶ⹊ガቃਦ⚙ऻつ㥬୼৹㠽ു䳑䋵᱉ҁሜ⋷θቐᴿ㤛ᒨ䄌 䘦у䏩ҁ㲋θ⛰ມ㼒↭ਨグⲳθ᭻ᬢ৹㘹Ƀ᱄⋱ 42 ᒪਦ्ᔩਦ्㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹ⃊ ṾɄȽɃਦ⚙㑳⶙ᓒ‫ޢ‬ᮽ五㒸ɄȽɅਦ⚙ᰛᰛ᯦๧ɆȽɅਦ्ᐸ㥬୼ᾣੂᾣ 1 2 ᴿ䰒ਦ⚙㠠❬⫦ູθ৹㿁⧁ᘍᄱㅿ㐞㪍θɅുѣ 1 р⽴ᴹᮏᑡᢁ߀Ɇ. (᯦ᓍφᓭ䔈ᮽᮏ Ӂᾣ㛗Գᴿ䲆‫ޢ‬ਮθ2002 ᒪ)θ丷 25χᴿ䰒ਦ⚙㥬ᾣⲲኋ䇀ौθ৹㿁⋩৕᷍⴪ӰθɅ䘇 ԙʷˍʷʆਦ⚙φਦ⚙㥬ᾣʌ↭ਨⲺኋ䯁ɆθӢ䜳φь⮂ᙓᜩ⽴θ2003 ᒪθ㐈䄌θ丷 5Ⱦ ઞ៨ᮽ㐞㪍θɅਦ⚙㏉☕ਨɆ. (ਦ्φਦ⚙䯁᱄ᴮቶθ1980 ᒪ)θ丷 507–513χ䲩᝾⦿θ Ʌਦ्㑙㥬ᾣⲲኋਨɆ. (ᶵ₁ᐸφਦ्㑙㄁ᮽौѣᗹθ1994 ᒪ)χ᷍┵㌻θɅ㥬Ƚ㌌Ƚ⁕ 㞜ᾣ㠽ਦ⚙ҁ⽴ᴹ㏉☕䇀䚭δ1860–1895εɆ. (ਦ्φ㚥㏉࠰⡾Ӂᾣ‫ޢ‬ਮθ1997 ᒪ)χࢃ ᕋ⋩৕᷍⴪ӰθɅ䘇ԙʷˍʷʆਦ⚙φਦ⚙㥬ᾣʌ↭ਨⲺኋ䯁ɆȾ 96 Chu Te-lan ᵧᗭ㱣 ‫ޢ‬ᴹᴹਨɆㅿ䋽ᯏθ䂜ቧφжȽ䘇ԙਦ⚙㥬ᾣⲲኋ⢯㢨χӂȽऻつ㥬୼㏉⠕ ሜ⋷ι≮㼋㲕ӁׁχпȽऻつ㥬୼᧞ኋ㥬ᾣ⍱ऋχ഑Ƚ୼ᾣ㌴㍑ㅿ主ⴤθ‫ڐ‬ жޭ儊Ⲻ࠼᷆Ⱦ ӂȽ䘇ԙਦ⚙㥬ᾣⲲኋ⢯㢨 㥬㩿੡ᴿφ㥬ཐ䞐Ƚ㥬௤ምȽὃ⢟咲Ƚ㴁ⲳ䌠Ƚ≞ะ䞮Ƚ㏣⭕㍖Ƚ᷒㟖㍖Ƚ ᴿₕ䞮Ƚ㜸ཐ㌌Ƚ㌌五Ƚ䞬五Ƚ㢨㍖ㅿᴿₕौᆮᡆԳθ਀䥩Ƚ䩫Ƚ䡶Ƚ䡙Ƚ 䦸Ƚ䡭Ƚ䣷Ƚ䠿Ƚ䣻Ƚ䢻Ƚ≤Ƚ⼭Ƚ≕Ƚ⻎Ƚ⺈ㅿ❗ₕ⽜⢟‫ݹ‬㍖θഖᴿཐ‫ݹ‬ ᙝⲺؓ‫ڛ‬ᡆԳθᡶԛ伨㥬ਥԛ⭘⭕ԛс䄮ཐࣕ᭾θྸφ ᨆ⾔䟈㞜Ƚ⎾䲚⯨औȽ䀙䲚➟᛬Ƚᒡࣟ⎾ौȽ乆䱨㳶⢏Ƚ䱨↘ᗹ㹶㇗⯴⯻Ƚ乆 䱨㌌ት⯻Ƚ࡟ትȽ⇰㨂ᣍ∈ȽᣍⲂȽ⑑㐟㺦㘷Ƚ䱨⋱લ੮䚉⯴⯻Ƚᣍ䕱ሺȽؓ 䆭⵲ⶑȽ⑑㛛㗄ᇯㅿȾ3 ѣുᱥ㥬㩿Ⲻ䠃㾷⭕⭘൦㠽⎾䋱൦ȾѣുӰ൞ᰛᑮ⭕⍱ѣθᖾᰟቧᴿ伨 㥬Ⲻ㘈យȾ୆ԙ伨㥬ᮽौ㠾䎭ᗂθᴿ䃵ࣇ䓡ᗹ㠽ࣖᕭӰ䳑䰒‫׸‬᭾ⴀⲺ㥬佞θ Ფ䚃Ⲻ䁣᯲਺ཝค䧤Ⱦ4 ѣു㥬䙨‫ޛ‬䘇ԙθ䳞㪍䋽ᵢѱ㗟㏉☕ⲺⲲ䚊θь⮂㥬 ⎾䋱ᐸ๪Ⲻᬪཝθᴪᡆ⛰ж主䠃㾷Ⲻ䕮࠰૷Ⱦ⿅ᔰ⛰ѣു㪍੃⭘㥬ॶҁжθ ⿅ᔰ㥬䲚Ҽж䜞࠼⮏൞⮬൦⎾䋱ԛཌθཝ䜞࠼㏉⭧ᓾ䮶Ƚᔙᐔᡌр⎭䣭୤ 㤧Ƚ㗄ുᇬȾެѣθᗔᆿⓠȽም⍁䚁ᖶᓾ䮶Ⲻ✅嗃㥬θቚ਍㗄ു⎾䋱ᐸ๪Ⲻ ↗䘄θ㥬୼൞䕮࠰㗄ുҁ低θҕሽ⿅ᔰ㥬᧞䣭ࡦ⎭ጳ⇌≇൦Ƚ俢ቲ᣿Ƚ⡠ ૽Ƚ㾵䋘ㅿ൦Ⱦ5 ਦ⚙㥬ᵢּ⭘䠅ᖾቇθ૷䌠ҕᐤȾ1860 ᒪԙ␗≪ȽᆿᒩȽะ䲼Ƚᢉ⤍ δ儎䳺ε䲮㓂ቃཌ䯁᭴⛰㠠⭧䙐୼⑥ᗂθ1865 ᒪ㤧ു୼Ӱ㌺㘦 䲬ᗭδJohn DoddεּਦθⲲ⨴ਦ⚙्䜞Ⲻ㠠❬⫦ູᖾ䚟ਾつὃ૷䌠‫ݠ‬㢥Ⲻ㥬θ䙸ᗔ⿅ ᔰᆿⓠᑬּ㥬㤍θ䋮ⅴ㎜ਦ्㥬䗨θ啉फ䗨≇つ㥬θќ൞ཝぱซ䯁䁣 Dodd Co(ሬ丼⍁㺂)θ㚎䄁⿅ᔰ㥬ᑡ⡬⑗ਦ㼳㥬θኋ䯁ਦ⚙㥬⴪䣭㗄ുⲺӁᾣȾཝ儊 㙂 䀶 θ ␻ ԙ ਦ ⚙ 㥬 Ⲻ ࠰ ਙ ᯯ ᕅ ᱥ θ ⍁ 㺂 ‫ ੇ ݾ‬॥ 䊆 䢶 㺂 δ Hongkong and Shanghai Banking Corporationε䋮ⅴθᣀ䥘䋮㎜ɇჳᥥ佞Ɉδmerchantεθჳ ᥥ佞䕿䋮㥬㺂θ㥬㺂߃乆ٕ㎜㥬䗨χ㥬䗨Ƚ㥬㺂㻡۫ए㎷օθ⛰㒲㓂ઞ䕿䋽 䠇θਠླሽք᯲ᐸ‫Ⲻܯ‬㥬㩿䌙㎜ჳᥥ佞θჳᥥ佞䌙㎜⍁㺂θ⍁㺂߃ሽ㥬䕮࠰ 3 4 5 䲩᝾⦿θɅਦ्㑙㥬ᾣⲲኋਨɆθ丷 209-210ȾɃ㥬㩿ะᵢᡆԳ਀ࣕ᭾Ʉθਜ㿁ѣ䟡ѣ 㰛㏨൶ www.zhong-yao.netθ2010 ᒪ 8 ᴾ 30 ᰛᕋ⭞Ⱦ 䋾ཝ⋿Ƚ䲩ж⸩θɅ഑ᐓ㥬㩿ਨɆ. (ᡆ䜳φ഑ᐓᐪ㴶ᴮ⽴θ1989 ᒪ)θ丷 366–369Ⱦ 䲩᝾⦿θɅ䘇ԙѣു㥬ᾣⲺⲲኋ㠽ь⮂ᐸ๪Ɇ. (ਦ्φѣཤ⹊ガ䲘㏉☕⹊ガᡶθ1982 ᒪ)θ丷 184–185Ƚ301–302Ⱦ 䘇ԙਦ⚙ऻつ㥬୼ 97 ⎭ཌȾԛр⍁㺂࡟⭞䋽䠇᧝࡬㥬䗨Ƚ㥬㺂Ⲻ㏉⠕ᢁ⌋θഖਥᧂᨗਦ⚙㥬Ⲻཌ 䣭ᮮ䠅Ƚ‫ܯ‬Ṳૂ૷䌠θ᭻ᗍ䌰਌ᾫཝⲺ୼ᾣ࡟ⴀȾ6 ྸቧਦ⚙㥬Ⲻ⢯㢨㙂䀶θ㥬㩿௒ླ▤☋Ⲻ⭕䮭⫦ູθࠗᱥ㠞䘇⋩ᐓȽ䵝◹ ☋≙䠃θ᭓≅ⓡᓜ൞ 15 ᓜ㠩 18 ᓜҁ䯉Ⲻኧ඗൦θ䜳ᱥ䚟ਾṳὃ㥬Ⲻ㢥ླ ॶตȾਦ्䘇䜀ⲺᮽኧȽ⎭ኧ‫⋩≪␗ۃד‬θ⊆↘♋㠞ะ䲼⋩θ᯦ㄯ䰒㾵䶖䘇 匩ኧⓠθ䙏ӑ൦ॶഖ⛰∅䙘ߢȽᱛᆙㇶ䕿䇀ҁ䳑θ㏉ᑮ㍦䴞䙙㏵θᴿⴀ᯲㥬 ⲺⲲ㛨θᡶԛᡆ⛰‫ޞ‬ਦ⚙ᴶ䚟ᇒ⭕⭘ླ㥬Ⲻ൦ॶȾ7 ਦ⚙㥬૷つཐ䚊 70 つԛрθ∅‫૷ف‬つⲺ㼳㥬⌋乍у⴮ੂȾᾸᤢ䀶ҁθ五 ࡛ኢ᯲ᇂ‫ޞ‬у䟧䞫Ⲻで⛰ɇ㏖㥬Ɉθཝ䜞࠼㏉䚄䟧䞫Ⲻで⛰ɇ㌻㥬Ɉθж䜞 ࠼㏉䚄䟧䞫Ⲻで⛰ɇ✅嗃㥬ɈȽɇऻつ㥬Ɉθ✅嗃㥬∊䔹᧛䘇㌻㥬㌱ࡍθऻ つ㥬∊䔹᧛䘇㏖㥬㌱ࡍȾऻつ㥬␱ࣖ俏㣧⠱㼳Ⲻθ‫؍‬で⛰ɇ㣧㥬Ɉθуࣖ俏 ᯏ⠱㼳Ⲻθ䙐で⛰ɇ㍖㥬ɈȾ 8 ൞ਦ⚙㥬ѣθ✅嗃㥬⦞䵮㗄ുᐸ๪↭ਨᴶѻȾ ✅嗃㥬Ⲻ㼳⌋⭧⿅ᔰ۩‫ޛ‬θ⋌⌗ᗂ㩿ᖘ᮪喀θഖެ亅㢨᧛䘇⩛⧶㢨θ㤧ുӰ でҁ⛰ɇ⩛⧶✅嗃Ɉθ৾ഖ✅嗃㥬઩䚉㣩俏θ㙂ਜᴿɇਦ⚙㗄ӰɈҁでθ൞ 㗄ു᫷ᴿᖾཝⲺ⎾䋱ᐸ๪Ⱦ9 ਦ⚙㥬Ⲻ૷䌠Ƚ⭘䠅␧਍૷つȽ喗Ƚൕ䌠Ƚ≙ُȽ㇗⨼ㅿθ㠠❬ồԬ㠽 Ӱ⛰ഖ㍖ᐜ਩Ⱦਦ⚙✅嗃㥬૷䌠ᴶ֩Ⲻᴿφ䶈ᗹ✅嗃Ƚ䶈ᗹཝ޽δ䆶丩 mouεȽཝ㩿✅嗃Ƚ⺢ᷓ㌻ᗹȽ✅䠇Ƚⲳ∑⥪ㅿθ૷䌠ѣㅿⲺᴿφชᗹȽ⢑ ชȽ哹ḇȽ䋉㙩∑ԊȽཝ㩿ㄯ㩿Ƚ㌻ቴᆆȽḇᆆつㅿθ૷䌠䔹ᐤⲺᴿφᷓ 㱣Ƚу⸛ᱛȽ㫊㥬Ƚ㠣䶈ᆆȽኧ㥬ㅿȾ10 ‫ٲ‬ᗍжᨆⲺᱥθ19 ь㌶ᗂঀ㩿θ֒⛰㥬㩿䳼ᮙѣᗹⲺਦ्ཝぱซθഖᴿ ⍁㺂ᨆ‫ב‬䋽䠇θ⴪᧛㇗⨼㼳㥬θ᧝࡬㥬㩿૷䌠θ䣭୤䠅уᯭⲺ໔ཝθ᭻੮ᕋ уቇ㨥୼ᗔቃዮ䐞⎭ּਦθ㍑㍑൦൞ཝぱซ䯁䁣㥬佞Ƚ㥬㺂Ƚ㥬Ἕθ㠽ਦ् ᵢ൦㥬୼ж䎭ࣖ‫✅ޛ‬嗃㥬Ⲻ⭘䣭ӁᾣȾ᜕θ㤛ᒨ䋠ൌ৐࡟Ⲻ㥬୼θഖሽࣙㅿ 㥬ᡌ㥬㊿᧰‫ޛ‬儎㍐㥬ѣθ冐ⴤ␭⨖䋟୤Ⲻ㎆᷒θֵ✅嗃㥬䶘㠞࠰ਙуᥥθ䋥 㰅ᰛѻሽ䘇㞆㶋ⲺദູȾਦ्㥬୼⛰䀙⊰฼ゃྸኧⲺᓡᆎθ‫׵‬ሽѣсㅿ㍐Ⲻ ✅嗃㥬␱ࣖ俏㣧θ᭯㼳ᡆऻつ㥬Ⱦ11 ऻつ㥬㒲✅嗃㥬൞୼๪அᐸᗂθ਍ࡦᶧ঍Ӕ㨥‫↗Ⲻ܇‬䘄θᗔ㙂䯁கҼऻ つ㥬䋵᱉Ⲻ↭ਨ᯦丷Ⱦ✅嗃㥬ԛ㗄ുȽ㤧ുӰ⛰ѱ㾷⎾䋱ቃ䊗θ䙐䚄䋭䗜Ԩ 6 7 8 9 10 11 ᷍┵㌻θɅ㥬Ƚ㌌Ƚ⁕㞜ᾣ㠽ਦ⚙ҁ⽴ᴹ㏉☕䇀䚭δ1860–1895εɆθ丷 107χ䲩↙㤸㐞 㪍θɅਦ⚙㏉☕ⲲኋਨɆ. (ਦ्φ᯦ᮽӢ䯁Ⲳ࠰⡾㛗Գᴿ䲆‫ޢ‬ਮθ2003 ᒪ)θ丷 92Ⱦ॥ 䊆䢶㺂θ 1865 ᒪ䁣᯲俏⑥Ƚр⎭θ䋽ᵢ亃 500 㩢‫ݹ‬θ⛰ↆȽ㗄ുᇬ୼Ӱ䳼䋽ࢫ䁣Ⱦ䂩 ৹ⴝ਍䟽Ƚⴝߢ䶈θɅ俏⑥㏉☕ਨɆ. (्ӢφӰ≇࠰⡾⽴θ2004 ᒪ)θ丷 96Ƚ100Ⱦ ਦ⚙ⴷ᯦㚔㲋㐞θɅਦ⚙㥬ᾣɆ. (঍ᣋφਦ⚙ⴷ᯦㚔㲋θ1950 ᒪ)θ丷 5Ⱦ ઞ៨ᮽ㐞㪍θɅਦ⚙㏉☕ਨɆθ丷 507–508Ⱦ ਦ⚙ⴷ᯦㚔㲋㐞θɅਦ⚙㥬ᾣɆθ丷 17Ⱦ ਦ⚙ⴷ᯦㚔㲋㐞θɅਦ⚙㥬ᾣɆθ丷 5–6Ƚ11–12Ⱦ ⋩৕᷍⴪ӰθɅ䘇ԙʷˍʷʆਦ⚙φਦ⚙㥬ᾣʌ↭ਨⲺኋ䯁Ɇθ丷 20–21Ƚ36–39Ⱦ 98 Chu Te-lan ᵧᗭ㱣 ԁⲺ㤧Ƚ㗄⍁㺂䋽ᵢփቻ✅嗃㥬䋵᱉‫ݠ‬घχऻつ㥬ԛদቲ⡠૽Ƚ⌦ുȽѣു ཝ䲮Ⲻ㨥Ӱ⛰ѱ㾷⎾䋱ቃ䊗θਦ⚙㥬୼ഖԛ⴪⭘⴪䣭ᯯᕅ䌙㥬θ᭻փቻऻつ 㥬䋵᱉‫ݠ‬घȾ19Ƚ20 ь㌶ҁӚθь⮂਺൦仞㺂伨㥬ᮽौθ㥬Ⲻ⎾䋱䠅уᯭ൦ ໔ཝθ৕ᵢ⦞খു䳑ᐸ๪൦փⲺѣു㥬θⓆ᯲ѣു᭵ᓒቃ㥬䗨䃨ᗫ䠃〻θ㕰 ҅䕊ࣟ㥬ᾣⲲኋ᧠᯳θ㤧ു୼Ӱу于䌲䋭‫ܯ‬Ṳ儎θ૷䌠с䲃Ⲻѣു㥬θԛ਀ 㤧ു⦄फ⇌≇൦দᓜȽ䥡㱣⭕⭘㥬θদᓜ㥬Ƚ䥡㱣㥬╮╮਌ԙѣു㥬θ൞ 㤧Ƚ㗄ᐸ๪֊ᴿ⦽ᨆ儎θԛ਀⭘㥬ཝുᰛᵢҕኋ䯁㏖㥬䕮࠰䋵᱉ㅿഖ㍖Ⲻᖧ 丵θቄ㠪㥬䋵᱉ㄬ⡣⍱ऋᰛⴀ◶⛾Ⱦਦ⚙㥬୼⛰Ҽ໔ࣖ㥬ᾣㄬ⡣࣑θ‫⿅ࡦ׵‬ ᔰᆿⓠᤑ㚎ᑡ⡬Ƚ㥬ᐛθּਦᗔӁ㼳㥬Ƚ〚䠃Ƚऻ㼓ᐛ֒Ⱦ12 1895 㠩 1945 ᒪᰛᵢ㎧⋱ਦ⚙ 51 ᒪ䯉θᴿ䰒ਦ⚙㥬䕮࠰䠅Ƚ䕮࠰‫ܯ‬亃਀ 䕮࠰൦Ⲻ䇀ौθਥ㿁᯲㺞 1Ƚ㺞 2Ƚ㺞 3Ⱦ 㺞 1φਦ⚙㥬䕮࠰䠅δ1897– 1945 ᒪε ௤փφ1,000 ᯚ ᒪ࡛ ✅嗃㥬 ऻつ㥬 ㌻㥬 ᒪ࡛ ✅嗃㥬 ऻつ㥬 ㌻㥬 1897 13,393 1,836 — 1930 5,276 7,496 352 1900 10,937 2,506 — 1935 6,624 4,621 2,481 1905 14,156 2,960 — 1940 2,477 3,692 6,830 1910 11,886 4,673 65 1945 — 355 — 1915 11,976 5,205 37 1920 4,768 6,038 — 1925 8,005 7,786 44 䋽ᯏּⓆφᕋ㠠⋩৕᷍⴪ӰθɅ䘇ԙʷˍʷʆਦ⚙φਦ⚙㥬ᾣʌ↭ਨⲺኋ䯁Ɇθ丷 62– 63Ⱦ 㺞 2φਦ⚙㥬䕮࠰‫ܯ‬亃δ1897–1945 ᒪε ᒪ࡛ ✅嗃㥬 1897 6,445 1900 4,187 1905 5,341 1910 3,853 1915 4,313 1920 2,536 1925 5,221 䋽ᯏּⓆφੂ㺞 1Ⱦ 12 ऻつ㥬 461 631 893 1,935 2,756 3,821 6,173 ㌻㥬 — — — 3 14 — 26 ௤փφ1,000 ᰛ൉ ᒪ࡛ 1930 1935 1940 1945 ✅嗃㥬 2,609 3,814 2,829 — ऻつ㥬 5,786 2,815 6,068 2,307 ㌻㥬 202 1,490 7,961 — ⋩৕᷍⴪ӰθɅ䘇ԙʷˍʷʆਦ⚙φਦ⚙㥬ᾣʌ↭ਨⲺኋ䯁Ɇθ丷 30-32χ䲩᝾⦿θ Ʌ䘇ԙѣു㥬ᾣⲺⲲኋ㠽ь⮂ᐸ๪Ɇθ丷 187-189χ᷍┵㌻θɅ㥬Ƚ㌌Ƚ⁕㞜ᾣ㠽ਦ⚙ ҁ⽴ᴹ㏉☕䇀䚭Ɇθ丷 108–110Ⱦ 99 䘇ԙਦ⚙ऻつ㥬୼ 㺞 3φਦ⚙ऻつ㥬䕮࠰൦਀䕮࠰䠅δ1897– 1939 ᒪε ᒪ࡛ ѣു 俏⑥ 㦭ኢ দቲ 1897 1,758 78 — 1900 2,403 103 — 1905 2,685 140 133 1910 4,503 170 — 1915 1,333 186 3,655 1920 230 50 3,993 1925 122 737 4,937 1930 1,003 1,180 5,076 1935 63 212 794 1939 — — 240 ‫ۏ‬䁱φ1940 㠩 1945 ᒪ㎧䀾䋽ᯏᗔ㕰Ⱦ 䋽ᯏּⓆφੂ㺞 1θ丷 70– 71Ⱦ ⎭ጳ⇌ ≇൦ — — — — 32 536 623 109 760 — 㨨ᗁ 䌉 — — — — — 199 142 82 44 1 ௤փφ1,000 ᯚ ⌦ു — — — — — 852 1,207 42 822 141 ⌋ኢ 䏀঍ — — — — — 160 12 — 597 68 ┵ᐔ — — — — — — — — 1,293 4,924 㺞 1 ᡶ⽰θ✅嗃㥬ᒪ䕮࠰䠅ᗔ 1897 ᒪࡦ 1915 ᒪ䯉θ‫ݾ‬໔ᗂ⑑θཝ䜞࠼ᒪᓜ㌺ 䕮࠰жॹ低㩢ᯚθ1920 ᒪ䎭᱄亥Ⲻс䲃θᒪ䕮࠰䠅⑑㠩ᮮⲴ㩢ᯚȾਃҁθऻ つ㥬ᒪ䕮࠰䠅঱੾⨴ᡆ䮭Ⲻ䏞घθ1920 ᒪԛ䲃θ⭐㠩ᴿⲺᒪ䕮࠰䠅䎻䚄✅嗃 㥬Ⱦ㌻㥬ᒪ䕮࠰䠅䎭ࡓᖾቇθ㠠 1930 ᒪ䯁ခθഖᴿᰛᵢ䋗ൎпӋਾ੃Ṡᕅᴹ ⽴↙ᕅᣋ䋽⭕⭘θਦ⚙㑳⶙ᓒҕཝ࣑᭥ᨪθ䁣㖤㥬㩿䂜傍๪Ƚ⁗ㇺ㥬ൈθᗔ Ӂ૷つ᭯㢥θќᨆ࠰ᥥ㠾࠰ਙ᭵ㆌθ᭻ެᒪ䕮࠰䠅ཝ໔θ⭐㠩ᴿⲺᒪ䕮࠰䠅 ‫ݠ‬᯲ऻつ㥬Ⱦ1941 ᒪԛ㗄ു⛰ѱ㾷䕮࠰ቃ䊗Ⲻ✅嗃㥬θ਍ࡦའᒩ⍁ᡦ⡣Ⲻᖧ 丵θ䕮࠰䠅䣩⑑Ⱦ㌻㥬䕮࠰ቃ䊗⛰ᰛᵢᵢൕȽ㗄ുȽ㤧ുθ1944Ƚ1945 ᒪ਍ ࡦᱸቶ೪ጱθ਀㡯㡬㕰҅Ⲻᖧ丵θ䕮࠰䠅ཝᑻ㺦䘶θ⭐㠩੾⨴䴬䕮࠰Ⲻ⣶ ⋷Ⱦ 㺞 2 ਃ᱖θऻつ㥬Ⲻ䕮࠰‫ܯ‬亃儎᯲✅嗃㥬Ⱦ䙨ж↛䃠θ㥬㩿୤‫Ⲻܯ‬儎 քθ਌⊰᯲ᒴつ㾷㍖θऻᤢφ㩿⡽Ⲻᇂ᮪ᡌ⻄㻸Ƚ㢨◚ȽᄟᓜȽồᖘȽ␞ ᓜθԛ਀⒥㢨Ƚ俏≙Ƚ━઩ㅿཌᖘ㠽䌠൦Ⲻླ༔Ⱦᴿ䰒ऻつ㥬㠽✅嗃㥬∅Ⲵ ᯚⲺ୤‫ܯ‬θ↭ᒪּ䇀ौྸсφ1910 ᒪऻつ㥬 41.41 ൉Ƚ✅嗃㥬 32.42 ൉χ1915 ᒪऻつ㥬 52.99 ൉Ƚ✅嗃㥬 36.01 ൉χ1920 ᒪऻつ㥬 63.29 ൉Ƚ✅嗃㥬 53.19 ൉χ1925 ᒪऻつ㥬 79.29 ൉Ƚ✅嗃㥬 65.23 ൉χ1930 ᒪऻつ㥬 77.19 ൉Ƚ✅嗃 㥬 49.45 ൉χ1935 ᒪऻつ㥬 60.92 ൉Ƚ✅嗃㥬 57.58 ൉Ⱦ亥㙂᱉㿁θሽѣс㍐ ✅嗃㥬␱ࣖ俏㣧߃㼳Ⲻऻつ㥬θᡆᵢքȽ୤‫ܯ‬儎θ࡟▚儎᯲✅嗃㥬Ⱦ13 ៿䂨᤽࠰Ⲻᱥθ䘇ԙь⮂ѱ㾷⭘㥬൦ᴿφѣുཝ䲮ȽদᓜȽ䥡㱣Ƚ㦭ኢ দቲⲺ⡠૽ȽᰛᵢȽਦ⚙㠽‫ു׺‬Ⱦਦ⚙൞ 1929 ᒪ㼳㥬‫ⴑޞ‬ᵕθṳฯ㥬䶘ゃ 13 ⋩৕᷍⴪ӰθɅ䘇ԙʷˍʷʆਦ⚙φਦ⚙㥬ᾣʌ↭ਨⲺኋ䯁Ɇθ丷 68Ⱦ 100 Chu Te-lan ᵧᗭ㱣 ㌺֊‫ޞ‬ь⮂Ⲻ 4.2%θ⭕⭘䠅㌺֊‫ޞ‬ь⮂Ⲻ 1.66%Ⱦਦ⚙㥬ࡦ 1945 ᒪㅢӂ⅗ь ⮂ཝᡦ㎆ᶕԛࢃθ㌺֊ь⮂㥬䕮࠰㑳亃ⲺㅢйփȾ14 1931 ᒪᰛᵢ⠼Ⲳғж‫ޡ‬Ӂ䇀θ1937 ᒪⲲऋ‫ޞ‬䶘‫׫‬㨥ᡦ⡣θᕋ䎭ѣുཝ 䲮Ƚᶧ঍Ӕ਺൦↚䎭ᖲ㩳ⲺਃᰛȽᧈᰛ䋞䚁ऋθਦ⚙㥬਍ࡦു䳑᭵⋱㺓シⲺ ᖧ丵θ䕮࠰ք䘭θռਦ⚙㥬୼㠽ᶧ঍Ӕ㨥‫܇‬ཐኢ䯟঍Ӱθ伨㥬ఒླ⴮ੂθࣖ ԛ 1934 ᒪѣുᶧ्ᡆ㄁‫┵ڳ‬ᐔുθ㐞‫ޛ‬ᰛᵢᑓുⲺ㏉☕ാθࡦ┵ᐔ㏉୼Ƚቧ ᾣⲺਦ⚙Ӱ໔ཐθ᭻ྸ㺞 2Ƚ㺞 3 ᡶ㿁θऻつ㥬ᗔ䕮࠰ࡓᵕᒪ࠰ਙ亃഑ॷ低㩢 ൉θゟᇐᡆ䮭ࡦ‫Ⲵޣ‬低㩢൉θ䣭୤ᐸ๪ԛদቲȽѣുȽ俏⑥Ƚ┵ᐔㅿ൦⛰ ѱȾ пȽऻつ㥬୼㏉⠕ሜ⋷ι≮㼋㲕Ӂׁ ཝぱซփ᯲Ԁਦ्ᐸᔬᒩॶȽᔰᡆॶжᑬθᱥ䘇ԙਦ⚙㥬Ⲻ䳼ᮙѣᗹȾᬐ䋽 ᯏ䁎䔿θ1896 ᒪཝぱซ㥬㺂ᴿ 252 ᇬθ㑳䋽ᵢ亃䀾 1,071,956 ൉θᗔᾣӰଗާ 3,612 Ӱθެѣθ䋽ᵢ亃䔹儎Ⲻ୼㲕ᴿφ ж㩢൉ԛрⲺ㥬㺂φᵓ䲳㺍Ⲻ≮㼋㲕δᓍѱ䲩⦿䵨εȽᔰ᱂㺍Ⲻ㤧‫ݹ‬㲕 δᓍѱᶄ঵䴨εȽᔰ᱂㺍Ⲻੂ俞㲕δᓍѱ⒥⫵εȽॹ、㺍Ⲻ≮㏵࡟㺂δᓍѱ 䲩䗦۩εθᗭओ㺍Ⲻ䴽঍㲕δԙ㺞哹␱зȽ哹ᆾ㚨εާӊᇬȾ ӂ㩢൉ԛрⲺ㥬㺂φᔰ᱂㺍Ⲻ䥜㣩㲕δԙ㺞੩༡ԳȽ㗷⪕༡εȽ঍㺍Ⲻ ⿅ᔰ᱂㲕δᓍѱ䲩❽䴠εȽ⑥䛀ᗂ㺍Ⲻ㗟ਿ㲕δᓍѱ㰽ᘍ㥬εθާпᇬȾ ഑㩢൉ԛрⲺ㥬㺂φ⑥䛀ᗂ㺍Ⲻᶄㇶ䁎㲕δᓍѱᶄᱛ⭕εȾ ‫ޣ‬㩢൉ԛрⲺ㥬㺂φᔰ᱂ᗂ㺍Ⲻ㚥ᡆ㺂δᓍѱ哹⡴ԦεȾ ॷӂ㩢൉ԛрⲺ㥬㺂φ‫ޣ‬佞㺍Ⲻᔰ⾛㲕δᓍѱ᷍ᵢⓆεȾ15 ᴿ䰒ਦ⚙ऻつ㥬୼ࢫᾣȽⲲኋ᛻ᖘθԛ␻ᵡ൞ਦ䁣㄁Ⲻ≮㼋㲕⛰ׁθㅢ ж ԙ ᓍ ѱ 䲩 ⦿ 䵨 ᯲ 1857 ᒪ ࠰ ⭕ ᯲ ᓾ 䮶 θ Ԍ ൞ ᰛ ᵢ ࢨ ਦ ԛ ࢃ θ ঩ ᖶ ⡠ ૽ δJavaεࢫ䁣㗟㼋㥬㺂θ㏉⠕⿅ᔰ✅嗃㥬䕮࠰⡠૽ҁു䳑䋵᱉ӁᾣȾ䲩⦿䵨ᴿ ॷж‫ވف‬ᆆδ‫ޝ‬੡഑‫ف‬佀ᆆεθ⅗⭭ᵓ倵⭕᯲ 1886 ᒪθཟ䋽㚦やθ୼ᢃ࠰ ⵴θ1899 ᒪ 13 ↨㠽⡬⑗ਦθ↮ौᰛᵢ㊃θќ䳞⡬ࡦ⡠૽пሬ༕δSemarangε ᆮ‫ڐ‬㥬㩿䋵᱉Ⱦ1909 ᒪਦ्ᔩ䃵ḛਦ्㥬ᾣθ൞੃߀рⲱ䁎≮㼋㲕ᓍѱ䲩⦿ 䵨δ52 ↨εȽ㥬୼䲩ᵓ倵δ23 ↨εȾ1910 ᒪ䲩ᵓ倵 24 ↨θ㒲ᢵ≮㼋㲕Ӂ ᾣθᡆ⛰ㅢӂԙᓍѱȾ1923 ᒪ䲩ᵓ倵⯻䙓θ⭧䲩⦿䵨п⭭䲩ᵓ➂㒲Աㅢпԙ ᓍѱȾ16 ਦ⚙ⴷ᯦㚔㲋㐞θɅਦ⚙㥬ᾣɆθ丷 6Ⱦ ᴴ䘰⻟θɃ␻ᆙཝぱซҁ㥬ᾣɄθࡀ᯲ཝぱซሾ㲕θɅਦ्ᮽ⢟Ɇㅢ 5 ভ 4 ᵕθ1957 ᒪ 6 ᴾθ丷 99–117Ⱦ 16 Ƀ᱄⋱ 42 ᒪਦ्ᔩਦ्㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹ⃊ṾɄθᵠ㐞丷δ䁧䌘⪚‫⭕ݾ‬ᨆ‫ב‬εχ≮዗㣩䕊㐞㪍θ Ʌ᱄ᵓʦʨՀ◚ᱸԙʜʅɆ. (ਦ्φਦ्⍱⡾⽴θ1925 ᒪ)θ丷 44χᴴ䘰⻟θɃ␻ᆙཝ 14 15 䘇ԙਦ⚙ऻつ㥬୼ 101 ᬐɃ᱄⋱ 42 ᒪਦ्ᔩਦ्㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹ⃊ṾɄ䁎䔿θ1909 ᒪ≮㼋㲕ӰӁ㍺㒊࠼⛰ ᓍѱȽ㥬୼Ƚ୼ए⊰㻷Ƚᴹ䀾ȽሾᾣᐛӰㅿӊ‫ف‬䳄ኚθᴿ䰒ެ㉗↭θ㥨ԁ㍯ ᯲ᗂȾδ㿁䱺Ԭ 1ε 䲩⦿䵨θ1857 ᒪ࠰⭕᯲ᓾ䮶θ1899 ᒪ⑗ਦδᱸᒪ 42 ↨εθᓍѱȾ 䲩ᵓ倵θ1886 ᒪ࠰⭕᯲ᓾ䮶θ1899 ᒪ⑗ਦδᱸᒪ 13 ↨εθ㥬୼Ⱦ ֏䮭仞θ1873 ᒪ⭕᯲ਦ्ᐸδᱸᒪ 36 ↨εθ୼ए⊰㻷Ⱦ ֋ᶆᇍθ1868 ᒪ⭕᯲ᔙᶧⴷ▤ᐔθ1898 ᒪ⑗ਦδᱸᒪ 30 ↨εθᴹ䀾Ⱦ ᶄࣽθ1884 ᒪ⭕᯲⿅ᔰⴷᆿⓠ㑙θ1908 ᒪ⑗ਦδᱸᒪ 24 ↨εθদ㍏ᐛȾ ᡪओθ1876 ᒪ⭕᯲⿅ᔰⴷ঍ᆿ㑙θ1903 ᒪ⑗ਦδᱸᒪ 27 ↨εθদ㍏ᐛȾ ᶄ䴏㠾θ1877 ᒪ⭕᯲⿅ᔰⴷᆿⓠ㑙θ1908 ᒪ⑗ਦδᱸᒪ 31 ↨εθদ㍏ᐛȾ ᯳㾵㨥θ1875 ᒪ⭕᯲⿅ᔰⴷᆿⓠ㑙θ1908 ᒪ⑗ਦδᱸᒪ 33 ↨εθদ㍏ᐛȾ ᯳㾵嗃θ1884 ᒪ⭕᯲⿅ᔰⴷᆿⓠ㑙θ1908 ᒪ⑗ਦδᱸᒪ 24 ↨εθদ㍏ᐛȾ 㗷⍷θ1882 ᒪ⭕᯲⿅ᔰⴷᆿⓠ㑙θ1908 ᒪ⑗ਦδᱸᒪ 26 ↨εθ䠅㥬ᐛȾ ੩ുሂθ1869 ᒪ⭕᯲⿅ᔰⴷᓾ䮶θ1908 ᒪ⑗ਦθऻ㥬ᐛȾ ਜθ‫⭞ܧ‬ғ੃❏㥬ᐛ㉗↭ྸсȾ ⧁Ӌθ1871 ᒪ⭕᯲⿅ᔰⴷᆿⓠ㑙θ1908 ᒪ⑗ਦδᱸᒪ 27 ↨εχ ⧁ળθ1871 ᒪ⭕᯲⿅ᔰⴷᆿⓠ㑙θ1908 ᒪ⑗ਦδᱸᒪ 37 ↨εχ ⧁儊ဇθ1884 ᒪ⭕᯲⿅ᔰⴷᆿⓠ㑙θ1908 ᒪ⑗ਦδᱸᒪ 24 ↨εχ ⧁䏀θ1874 ᒪ⭕᯲⿅ᔰⴷᆿⓠ㑙θ1908 ᒪ⑗ਦδᱸᒪ 34 ↨εχ ᾀ䏀θ1888 ᒪ⭕᯲⿅ᔰⴷᆿⓠ㑙θ1908 ᒪ⑗ਦδᱸᒪ 20 ↨εχ ⧁Ҕθ1866 ᒪ⭕᯲⿅ᔰⴷᆿⓠ㑙θ1908 ᒪ⑗ਦδᱸᒪ 42 ↨εχ ᴴ␻ἁθ1874 ᒪ⭕᯲⿅ᔰⴷᆿⓠ㑙θ1908 ᒪ⑗ਦδᱸᒪ 34 ↨εχ ⧁␻➂θ1882 ᒪ⭕᯲⿅ᔰⴷᆿⓠ㑙θ1908 ᒪ⑗ਦδᱸᒪ 26 ↨εχ ⧁๠θ1880 ᒪ⭕᯲⿅ᔰⴷᆿⓠ㑙θ1908 ᒪ⑗ਦδᱸᒪ 28 ↨εȾ17 ԛр㺂ଗⲺᵢ㊃൦θਥԛⲲ⨴ 18 ੃ଗᐛѣθ❏㥬ᐛᴿ 9 ੃Ƚদ㍏ᐛᴿ 4 ੃Ƚ䠅㥬ᐛᴿ 1 ੃θ䙏 14 Ӱ䜳ּ㠠⿅ᔰⴷ㪍੃⭘㥬ॶᆿⓠ㑙Ⱦऻ㥬ᐛᴿ 1 ੃θּ㠠ᓾ䮶θ㠽≮㼋㲕ᓍѱੂ䜿Ⱦ୼ए⊰㻷 1 ੃θѹ⭕᯲ਦ्Ⲻ䯟঍Ӱθ ᴹ䀾 1 ੃θ⛰▤ᐔӰȾ䰒᯲ଗᐛᒪ喗θ❏㥬ᱥж䮶ሾᾣᢶ㺉θᗻ举㾷⭧ᒪ喗 䔹ཝȽ㏉傍⟕㐪Ⲻᑡ⡬θ۩ᦾᢶ㺉㎜㏉傍у䏩Ⲻᒪ䕋ᗂ䕟Ⱦ❏㥬ᐛԁ᯲ 20 ↨ 㠩 42 ↨䯉ҁᒪ喗ኚθ乍ㅜਾ↚主䴶≸Ⱦদ㍏ᐛ൞ 24 ↨㠩 33 ↨ҁ䯉θӜᑬᴿ ۩ᦾᢶ㺉Ⲻᝅ㗟Ⱦ୼ए⊰㻷ૂᴹ䀾ᱥᓍएṮᗹӰ⢟θ≮㼋㲕‫ ⭞ܧ‬36 ↨Ⲻ֏䮭 仞ૂ 30 ↨Ⲻ֋ᶆᇍθ䚟ਥਃ᱖Ԍ‫ه‬уռ䗜Ӂ㜳࣑ᕭθъᐨᴿ㤛ᒨⲺ⽴ᴹ↭ 㐪Ⱦੇּθ䯟঍୼ᒡᖾ䠃㿌㹶㐙Ƚ൦㐙Ƚੂᾣ㐙Ƚᯯ䀶㐙Ƚ‫ؗ‬Ԧ㐙θ䙏ӊ㐙 17 ぱซҁ㥬ᾣɄθ丷 96χᵧᗭ㱣᯲ 1998 ᒪ 9 ᴾ 30 ᰛ൞ਦ्㗄㺉ᇬ㚥䃲ѣᗹ䁠அ䲩ᵓ倵ֺ ᆆ䲩ᴿᘍ‫⭕ݾ‬δ1922 ⭕᯲ਦ्εȾпሬ༕δSemarangεᱥদቲѱ㾷⑥ਙҁжθփ᯲ѣ⡠ ૽Ⱦ2010 ᒪ 7 ᴾ 28 ᰛᕋ⭞ Google ൦ൌȾ ࢃᕋɃ᱄⋱ 42 ᒪਦ्ᔩਦ्㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹ⃊ṾɄȾ 102 Chu Te-lan ᵧᗭ㱣 䰒‫׸‬ቃᬪኋӁᾣⲺ֒⭞Ⱦ⭧≮㼋㲕Ⲻଗᐛ㜂Ქ㼗θӜਥヰ⸛൦㐙Ƚੂᾣ㐙Ƚ ᯯ䀶㐙൞⭘ᾣ⍱ऋѣⲺ䠃㾷ᙝȾ 1912 ᒪ≮㼋㲕Ӂᾣ䚷‫ޛ‬哹䠇ᵕθ䲚Ҽᵢᓍ䁣᯲ਦ्ཝぱซ᯦㠾㺍 6 㲕θ ᫷ ᴿ ᯦ 㠾 㺍 ㅢ 5 Ƚ 6 Ƚ 7 㲕 ਀ ᵓ ᶧ 㺍 ㅿ ཐ 㲋 ᡵ ൦ ⭘ ཌ θ ൞ ⡠ ૽ Semarang Ƚ Surakarta ਀ Yogyakarta ㅿ㲋䚺䁣㄁Ҽ࠼㺂θਜᣋ䋽㢥ᗭ㲕δཝぱซᔰ᱂ᗂ㺍 3 㲕θᓍѱ੩ᮽ⿶εθᡆ⛰ऻつ㥬ᾣѣ㚨ᵑᖾ儎Ⲻᐞ୼Ⱦ18 1913 ᒪ䲩ᵓ倵ሽփ᯲ਦ्൉ኧ൦ॶะ䲼⋩䛀Ⲻཝ⡽ൕ൦θည䁍㎜ཌുӰ 㒠㼳䁣䀾ൌθ߃㚎䄁ᰛ㊃ᔰㇿᑡ㠾ᔰ࡛ົȾ1914 ᒪɇ൉ኧ࡛㧀Ɉᇂᐛθ䙏ἕ 䙖ශ⢯⇀Ƚ㢨ᖟ㗄响Ⲻↆᕅᔰㇿ⢟θॷ࠼ᕋӰ⌞ⴤȾ൉ኧ࡛㧀‫ޝ‬ᴿѣുᕅ۩ ㎧ᵞ䙖ẂἻȽ㾵⍁ᕅ⟾ޭȽ⬭⼐Ƚ໷⡆Ƚᰛᵢᕅ῱῱㊩θ䙏ӑ䁣‫ۏ‬ਃ᱖䲩ᵓ 倵ᇬᰅ乍㜳㷃ਾ۩㎧㠽䘇ԙθᖦ亥ѣുȽᰛᵢȽ㾵ᯯുᇬуੂᮽौҁ⢯㢨Ⱦ ऻつ㥬Ⲻ俏㣧৕ᯏᴿ㤿㦿Ƚ⿶㤧ȽỊᆆȽ㱣ㅿθѹ⭕ળ࣑ᰰⴑθᖾᇯ᱉ṳ ฯⲺὃ⢟Ⱦ൉ኧ࡛㧀഑ઞつὃҼ䁧ཐ㤿㦿㣧ૂ⿶㤧㣧θ∅䙘ᱛཅ䯁㣧ᆙㇶθ ◹䛷Ⲻ俏≙䳞仞仺䘷θ㣢㣩᫨啱θ䚖䚖ᵑ࠰ৱθж⡽ⲳ㢨㣧⎭⴮⮬༥㿶Ⱦ䲩 ᵓ倵⛰䲃ք㏉⠕ᡆᵢθ⭐㠩ሽ⿶㤧㣧㤍〱つࡦদቲθ㙂ཝⲲ࡟ᐸȾ19 1913 ᒪѣു⠼Ⲳു≇唞㠿ޫ䁄Ն㺷ьࠧⲺ᭵⋱䚁ऋδਨでӂ⅗䶟ળεȾ ⭧᯲ӂ⅗䶟ળཧᮍθਃ㺷Ⲻᆡᮽૂ㜗╘≇ᡆ⛰㺷ьࠧⲺ䘳⇰ቃ䊗θᡶᒮᆡȽ 㜗ӂӰ⦨ᗍᰛᵢཌӚᇎⲺᨪࣟθ『ᇼᩣҎ‫◹ؗ‬Ѯθ᯲ੂᒪ 8 ᴾ 3 ᰛᣫਦȾਦ ⚙㑳⶙ᓒ亝਀Ԍ‫Ⲻه‬ᆿ‫ޞ‬θૂу于䇉㺷≅䃃⛰ᰛᵢᒨ⎿ѣു‫ޝ‬᭵θ᭻ॷ࠼䳧 ᇼᆡȽ㜗ӂӰⲺ⎾ᚥȾ8 ᴾ 9 ᰛᆡȽ㜗䴘ਦθࢃᖶᶧӢ㊂㍺ɇѣ㨥䶟ળ唞Ɉҁ ࢃθᆡᮽօ൞ẻኁᮭδԀѣኧ्䐥ҁẻൈεθ㜗╘≇օ൞൉ኧ࡛㧀Ⱦ䲩ᵓ倵 ⛰᭥ᨪᆡȽ㜗θ৹ࣖҼᦆⅴૂ䙙㒡⡠૽㨥‫਀܇‬ਦ⚙ᯯ䶘Ⲻकⅴ⍱ऋȾ20 1914 ᒪਦ्ᔩ䮭ࣖ⿅䊆⅗᤽ᇐ䲩ᵓ倵਀ 22 ੃㥬୼ᬊԱ㥬୼㍺㒊Ⲻࢫ㄁ည ଗθ䋖䋢ሽਦ्㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹ᭯㍺⛰ɇੂᾣ㍺ਾਦ्㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹɈȾ1915 ᒪੂᾣ㍺ ਾਦ्㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹ↙ᕅᡆ㄁θᴹଗ 134 ੃᧞䚮䲩ᵓ倵ᬊԱ‫ޢ‬ᴹ㍺ਾ䮭δ঩ᴹ 䮭εθᶄ㩢ቻδ䙨ⴀ㲕ᓍѱεȽ䜣╘⋿δ䜣⋩ᶧ㛗Գᴿ䲆‫ޢ‬ਮԙ㺞εᬊԱࢥ ㍺ਾ䮭δࢥᴹ䮭εθ䲩ཟּδ䥜䁎㲕ᓍѱεȽ哹␻⁏δᔰᡆ㲕ᓍѱεȽ⧁྄ ↜δ㠾䲼㲕ᓍѱεᬊԱᒯӁȾ21 18 19 20 21 ᗆ㤧⾛Ƚ䁧䌘⪚θɅਦ्ᐸ㥬୼ᾣੂᾣ‫ޢ‬ᴹᴹਨɆ. (ਦ्φਦ्ᐸ㥬୼ᾣੂᾣ‫ޢ‬ᴹθ 2000 ᒪ)θ丷 29Ƚ32Ƚ60Ƚ63χࢃᕋᵧᗭ㱣䁠அ䲩ᴿᘍ‫⭕ݾ‬䁎䤺ȾSurakarta ㉗で Solo (ѣ 䆥ợ㖻ᐸ)Ƚ Yogyakarta (ѣ䆥ᰛᜯᐸ )Ⲽփ᯲ѣ⡠૽Ⱦ2010 ᒪ 7 ᴾ 28 ᰛᕋ⭞ Google ൦ ൌȾ 䲩᝾⦿θɅਦ्㑙㥬ᾣⲲኋਨɆθ丷 128χࢃᕋᵧᗭ㱣䁠அ䲩ᴿᘍ‫⭕ݾ‬䁎䤺Ⱦ 㖻ᇬ١ѱ㐞θɅു⡬ᒪ䆒Ɇ(໔䀸ᵢр߀). (ਦ्φ唞ਨᴹθ1969 ᒪ)θ丷 530–531Ƚ535– 536χ㭙≮ᮢθɅ㜗╘≇‫⭕ݾ‬ᒪ䆒Ɇ. (ਦ्φ唞ਨᴹθ1978 ᒪ)θ丷 164–166Ⱦ ᗆ㤧⾛Ƚ䁧䌘⪚θɅਦ्ᐸ㥬୼ᾣੂᾣ‫ޢ‬ᴹᴹਨɆθ丷 60–62Ⱦ 䘇ԙਦ⚙ऻつ㥬୼ 103 1914 㠩 1922 ᒪ䲩ᵓ倵ቧԱਦ्㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹᴹ䮭ᵕ䯉θᴴ㏉᧛ᖻᓾ䮶㪍੃঍㇗丩 ‸ᇬȽᓾ䮶ᰣ♑ᴮ䲘ṗ䮭Ƚ㘷ᑡȽᆮ⭕օᇵ൉ኧ࡛㧀θќ൞൉ኧ࡛㧀ԛਦ⚙ ᯏ⨼ᤑᖻ䚄ᰛᵢ䋪ᰅ䲘䆦ଗȽਦ⚙㑳⶙ᓒ儎㍐ᇎଗȾ22 ‫ٲ‬ᗍжᨆⲺᱥθ␻ԙ䯟঍р⍷⽴ᴹӰ༡⛰Ҽ㠠ၑၑӰθᴿ䳼㚐ੂླθԛ ᤃᶵȽ⩫⩬Ƚ⍔㉡ȽㅑȽӂᕜȽпᕜȽ㜗⩪Ƚཝ啉Ƚቅ啉Ƚ⡽啉ㅿ‸ಞθਾ ྅ɇпുᘍɈȽɇ≪┮۩ɈȽɇ㤿㦿㣧ɈȽɇғ䙙⫦Ɉㅿ≇䯉䙐‫‸؍‬ᴨⲺ䳻 㠾Ⱦ 23ᰛᬐᱸԙּ㠠ᓾ䮶Ⲻਦ्㥬୼乍⍷㺂↚仞θԌ‫㍺ه‬㒊ɇ䳼㍹ุɈθ䚮᫽ 䚟⮬ᱸᰛૂ๪ᡶ㏉ᑮ㎆ἐ╊྅Ⱦ1923 ᒪ 4 ᴾ 16 ᰛ㼋ӷⲽའᆆδ঩ 1926 ᒪⲱ ะⲺᱣૂཟⲽε䁠ਦθ17 ᰛ䲩ᵓ倵Ƚ䱤丼≪Ƚᶄக㣩Ƚ⧁໔‫ݹ‬ȽⲳжᝐȽ᷍ ᆆ‫ؤ‬Ƚ哹䘷ּȽ哹且ኧȽ䲩૷䁎ㅿ 10 ੃༡㍩θ⢯࡛⛰ⲽའᆆ㺞╊␻‸θਾ྅ ɇⲴ匛↮ᐘɈθↂ乂㚌ᗭᔙ㻡θᇎ≇䃖ᵃθެ᜿ᚻҁ᛻ྸੂⲴ匛↮ᐘ㡢Ⲻ↗ ௒Ⱦ24 䲩ᵓ倵ԛ䕮࠰ऻつ㥬⛰ѣᗹᡶ㍥ゃⲺ䋗ሂθⲲኋ㠩 1922 ᒪθ䋽ᵢ亃ᐨ䚊 600 㩢൉θ⮬ᱸԌ൞ਦ्঍Ӣ㾵䐥᫷ᴿ‫فޟ‬㼳㥬ᐛᔖθ䶘ゃ㌺‫ॹޟ‬චθᡆ⛰ਦ ⚙㥬୼ѣ俩੃䚆䚽Ⲻ䊠୼Ⱦੂᒪθ䲩ᵓ倵⛰໔ࣖ⠕ᾣ䋽䠇਀᭬ⴀθ᭯㍺㥬㺂 ⛰㛗Գᴿ䲆‫ޢ‬ਮ࡬θ⭧пᕕᵓ➂Ƚӊᕕᵓ㚎Ƚ‫ޣ‬ᕕᵓ哕Ƚйᕕᵓ⌘࠼࡛ᬊԱ ⨼ⴙӁȾ↚ཌθቐᣋ䋽φぱ⊕‫㍺⭞ؗ‬ਾδԀㅢж‫⭞ؗ‬ਾ֒⽴εȽ᯦儎䢶㺂Ƚ ཝᡆ⚡⚳⎭рؓ䳠Ṡᕅᴹ⽴Ƚ≮ૂ㠾‫ޢ‬ਮȽ咳≪⑥㼳㌌Ṡᕅᴹ⽴ㅿθ৹㠽䠇 㷃Ƚؓ䳠Ƚ㼳㥬ᇯಞȽ㼳㌌ㅿཐ䀈ӁᾣȾ䲩ᵓ倵୼ₕᮅ䣩Ƚ⟧ᗹ‫ⴀޢ‬Ƚ‸஺ ླ᯳θу‫ۻ‬ῤԱਦ्㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹᴹ䮭Ƚਦ⚙㼳㥬૷䂋ᴹᴹ䮭Ƚぱ⊕‫㍺⭞ؗ‬ਾ 䮭Ƚ᯦儎䢶㺂㪙Ӂ䮭Ƚཝᡆ⚡⚳⎭рؓ䳠‫ޢ‬ਮ㪙ӁȽ≮ૂ㠾‫ޢ‬ਮ⽴䮭θ൞୼ ⮂փቻ㾷⍛θ䚺㻡ᇎᯯ䚮Ա⛰ਦ्ᐔঊ䆦ଗθਦ्ᐸमᾣညଗ਀㺑⭕ညଗȽ ਦ⚙⎾䱨ᖯ㍺ਾညଗθ᫷ᴿጽ儎Ⲻ⽴ᴹ൦փȾ1923 ᒪ 7 ᴾ 11 ᰛ䲩ᵓ倵൞൉ኧ ࡛㧀⯻ধδᱸᒪ 37 ↨εθެ᜗䁀р䚊ཟ㚳ᗂуѻθཝ↙ཟⲽ঩䌾Ҿ↙йփࣕ ऩθ㘂ᰛ⭧ਦ्ԙ⨼ᐸ䮭ᶇኧ⨼Ӂᇎ㠽Ӌᐓᓬए䃨䮭㿠䎪൉ኧ࡛㧀㠪૶θќ ۩䚊ᮎऩ䁀ᚥȾ25 22 23 24 25 Ʌਦ⚙ᰛᰛ᯦๧Ɇθ1921 ᒪ 2 ᴾ 5 ᰛθ╘ᮽ⡾ㅢ 5 ⡾χੂθ1922 ᒪ 4 ᴾ 23 ᰛθᰛᮽ⡾ ㅢ 6 ⡾χੂθ1922 ᒪ 10 ᴾ 27 ᰛθᰛᮽ⡾ㅢ 6 ⡾χࢃᕋᵧᗭ㱣䁠அ䲩ᴿᘍ‫⭕ݾ‬䁎䤺Ⱦ ⧁㘶㨥θɅ⿅ᔰ۩㎧丩‸Ɇ. (⿅ᐔφ⿅ᔰӰ≇࠰⡾⽴θ2000 ᒪ)θ丷 72–73Ƚ78Ƚ81Ⱦ Ʌਦ⚙ᰛᰛ᯦๧Ɇθ1910 ᒪ 8 ᴾ 6 ᰛθ╘ᮽ⡾ㅢ 5 ⡾χੂθ1912 ᒪ 11 ᴾ 1 ᰛθ╘ᮽ⡾ ㅢ 6 ⡾χੂθ1922 ᒪ 4 ᴾ 23 ᰛθ╘ᮽ⡾ㅢ 6 ⡾χੂθ1923 ᒪ 4 ᴾ 16 ᰛθ╘ᮽ⡾ㅢ 14 ⡾χɃਦ⚙㑳⶙ᓒሾ䌙ቶ‫ޢ‬ᮽ五㒸Ʉㅢ 2453 ߀θɃⲽའᆆ⇵сཿ䘄ညଗᴹ㿅ぁɄθ 1923 ᒪθ丷 406–408Ⱦ ≮዗㣩䕊㐞㪍θɅ᱄ᵓʦʨՀ◚ᱸԙʜʅɆθ丷 44χཝൈᐸ㰅㐞θɅਦ⚙Ӱ⢟䃂Ɇθਦ ्φぶ◚ᴮᓍθ1916 ᒪθ丷 217χ䡪ᵞ䗦п㐞θɅਦ⚙ᇎ≇㚭ଗ䤺Ɇθ㐞㘻Ⲳ㺂θ1920 ᒪθ丷 140Ƚ150–151Ƚ164χ‫ޝ‬㰚㍖⭕㐞θɅ঍ുҁӰ༡Ɇ. (ਦ्φਦ⚙Ӱ⢟⽴θ1922 ᒪ)θ丷 1χɅਦ⚙ᰛᰛ᯦๧Ɇθ1923 ᒪ 7 ᴾ 13 ᰛθᰛᮽ⡾ㅢ 9 ⡾χ⭦ѣжӂ㐞θɅᱣ ૂ 13 ᒪᓜ⡾ਦ⚙ᒪ䪇Ɇ. (ਦ्φṠᕅᴹ⽴ਦ⚙䙐‫⽴ؗ‬θ1937 ᒪ)θ丷 355χࢃᕋᵧᗭ㱣 䁠அ䲩ᴿᘍ‫⭕ݾ‬䁎䤺Ⱦ 104 Chu Te-lan ᵧᗭ㱣 1931 ᒪɅਦ⚙ᰛᰛ᯦๧Ɇࡀⲱж俌䅓⊓䣉᝕ᘫ䲩ᵓ倵Ⲻ䂟䂔φ ㏰ᑣุ䯁䳼㇗㍹θ ୼ѣ䊠‫ۇ‬䞈ѣԏθ ᢵ᚟只個঍ᐗᰛθ ␻ᴨ匝䏞྅ᗗ ࢃȾ 26 ঩䘳៬䲩ᵓ倵᫻䮭㍹‸θ⛰Ӱ䊠䚷Ƚឭឞθ᯲㼋ӷⲽའᆆ䁠ਦҁ䳑θ㎆ ਾ䄮ᮽӰ䳻༡൞ⲽའᆆ䶘ࢃ╊྅␻‸θ乍ԚӰで䚉ҁӁȾ ഑Ƚऻつ㥬୼᧞ኋ㥬ᾣ⍱ऋ 1895 ᒪᰛᵢ⇌≇ਦ⚙ᗂθਦ⚙㑳⶙ᓒ⛰Ҽ༉ᣇཌു୼ӰⲺ୼ᾣघ࣑θঊࣟᰛ ୼ੇᵢጬȽ㨥঍Ƚ঍⍁਺൦ᬪᕫ㏉☕घ࣑θ᭻㠠 1896 ᒪ䎭θ‫∅׵‬ᒪ㼒ࣟᰛᵢ 䜫㡯Ƚཝ䱠୼㡯ᴹ⽴θળԚ䙏ӂ䯉‫ޢ‬ਮ㏉⠕ᶧӔᇐᵕ㡠䐥Ⱦ1910 ᒪ䙨ж↛਌ ⎾ᰛᵢȽਦ⚙䯉ҁ䰒〻䳒⽏θᔘ䲚ਦ⚙⭘૷࠰ਙ〻਀䕮࠰ᰛᵢⲺ࠰⑥〻θԛ ֵਦ⚙㍃‫ޛ‬ᰛᵢ㏉☕儊㌱ѣȾᰛ㌱䋽ᵢᇬ൞ਦ⚙㑳⶙ᓒ᧞㺂䗨ᾣਦ⚙Ƚᐛᾣ ᰛᵢⲺ⇌≇᭵ㆌсθ⍱䓃ⲺᗔӁਦ⚙㊩Ƚ⸸㌌䕮ᰛθૂᰛᵢᐛᾣ૷䕮ਦⲺ䋵 ᱉⍱ऋȾ27 ‫ٲ‬ᗍ䰒⌞Ⲻᱥθ䘇ԙᰛᵢҕ⛰ь⮂㪍੃⭘㥬ുҁжθռഖᰛᵢӰ㘈យ伨⭞ ᵢു⭕⭘Ⲻ㏖㥬θↆ㗄⎾䋱㘻‫څ‬ᝑਦ⚙✅嗃㥬θਦ⚙ऻつ㥬ԛ㨥‫܇‬Ƚ㨥Ӱ⛰ ѱ㾷⎾䋱ቃ䊗θ᭻ऻつ㥬Ⲻ䕮࠰䋵᱉ᒴ҄ཐ⭧ཝぱซਦ⚙㥬୼ᡶᧂᨗθᾫቇ ᴿཌ୼ԁ‫ޛ‬Ⱦ ਦ⚙㥬୼⛰ൌ໔䙨ੂᾣާੂ࡟ⴀθ൞᧞ኋཌ䣭ᯯ䶘乍ཐ֒⛰Ⱦ㠿ּׁ 䃠θެ䠃㾷⍱ऋᴿφ δжε⛰⎾䲚㼳㥬ᾣᕀ⯻Ƚ᭯㢥㥬㩿૷䌠θќ䯁ᤉ㥬䕮࠰ᐸ๪θ1914 ᒪ Ⲳ䎭Ե➝ᰛᵢӰࢫ㄁ਦ्୼ᐛᴹ⁗ᕅθ㍺㒊ਦ्㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹδ䂩ᗂ䘦εȾ28 δӂε⛰ঊࣟ㥬୼㷃䙐㼳㥬Ƚٕ䋮䋽䠇θཝぱซਦ୼㠠 1914 ᒪ䎭㠩 1918 ᒪ䯉θ䲮㓂䁣㄁᯦儎䢶㺂Ƚぱ⊕‫㍺⭞ؗ‬ਾȽ❗ⴗᴹ⽴ㅿ䠇㷃ₕ Ⱦ29 δпε⡠૽ᱥਦ⚙ऻつ㥬Ⲻᴶཝ⎾䋱൦Ⱦ1914 ᒪ 8 ᴾѣᰢ䎭 90 ཟθਦ् 㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹ乆ᇐ൞⡠૽ Semarang 㠿䗜ɇ঍⍁ᤉ⇌ঐ㿳ᴹɈθਦ्㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹੇਦ ⚙㑳⶙ᓒ⭩䄁㼒ࣟθ㎆᷒⦨ᗍ 17,500 ൉㼒ࣟ䠇θ⭧‫ޢ‬ᴹ亝அཝᓣ≮ᡆ䋖䋢㊂ 26 27 28 29 Ʌਦ⚙ᰛᰛ᯦๧Ɇθ1931 ᒪ 4 ᴾ 29 ᰛθ╘ᮽ⡾ㅢ 4 ⡾Ⱦ ᶧి⭕㪍Ƚઞ៨ᮽ䆥θɅਦ⚙㏉☕ਨᾸ䃠Ɇ. (ਦ्φᑋ㊩⡴ᴮᓍθ1985 ᒪ)θ丷 66χ᷍ ┵㌻θɅ഑ⲴᒪּⲺ‫ޟ‬ዮ࠼ਾ---ж‫ف‬㏉䋵ਨⲺഔ亝Ɇ. (ਦ्φ㠠㄁Ა๧⽴θ1994 ᒪ)θ丷 36–38χᡪሬᶇθɅ䘇ԙਦ⚙⎭䚁Ⲳኋᡄ‫ށ‬㡯ࡦ䮭ῤᐞ㡬ɆȾ(ਦ्φ⦿ኧ⽴θ2000 ᒪ)θ 丷 130–131Ⱦ Ʌਦ⚙ᰛᰛ᯦๧Ɇθ1914 ᒪ 5 ᴾ 3 ᰛθ╘ᮽ⡾ㅢ 5 ⡾Ⱦ Ʌਦ⚙ᰛᰛ᯦๧Ɇθ1915 ᒪ 3 ᴾ 17 ᰛθᰛᮽ⡾ㅢ 2 ⡾χੂθ1918 ᒪ 1 ᴾ 31 ᰛθ╘ᮽ⡾ ㅢ 6 ⡾χੂθ1918 ᒪ 3 ᴾ 16 ᰛθ╘ᮽ⡾ㅢ 6 ⡾Ⱦ 䘇ԙਦ⚙ऻつ㥬୼ 105 䁣ɇਦ⚙௡㥬ᓍɈθᴹ䮭䲩ᵓ倵‫ੂڋ‬䜣䛜ᖛࢃᖶᴹ๪ⴙ⨼θ㯿ԛ᧞䣭ਦ⚙ऻ つ㥬Ⱦ1920 ᒪ㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹੇਦ⚙㑳⶙ᓒ⡣਌ࡦ 21,620 ൉㼒ࣟⅴθ䚮⍴ਦ⚙ቇྩ ৹ࣖ⿅዗ঐ㿳ᴹθᇙ۩Ƚ‫׹‬䣭ਦ⚙㥬Ⱦ30 δ഑ε1918 ᒪㅢж⅗ь⮂ཝᡦ㎆ᶕᗂθ⡠૽᭵ᓒᇙվ⾷↘䕮‫ޛ‬ཌു㥬θ ਦ⚙ऻつ㥬␧਍ᢉᬀȾਦ्㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹᴹ䮭䲩ᵓ倵㠽ᮮ੃ԙ㺞δ੩ᮽ⿶Ƚ䜣ᱛ 〝Ƚ๚᷍ᮮ㺑ε঩ᨆ࠰䲩᛻ᴮθ䄁≸ਦ⚙㑳⶙ᓒⴗ࣑Ӛ⎿θќᤃ䴱⡠૽ऻつ 㥬୼ੇদቲᇎᯯ䄁于θ㎆᷒䀙䲚Ҽ⾷ԚȾ৾⛰䱨↘ੂᾣ᜗ᙝㄬ⡣θᣢ儎俏㣧 ‫ܯ‬Ṳθ㙂⭧㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹ㎧ж䌲䋭㼳㥬ᯏ㣧θ߃䞃୤਺‫ف‬㥬୼Ⱦ31 δӊε1920 ᒪь⮂ᙝⲺ㏉☕Ქ≙ք䘭θቄ㠪㥬ᐸ๪‫ܯ‬Ṳᳪ䐂θ୼⋷⊿ ᇸθ㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹᴹ䮭䲩ᵓ倵ㅿ‫੃ޣ‬θᴿ䪇᯲㥬㩿у㜳䕮࠰θѻ䋥ሽ䘇㞆㶋θྸ уቁ≸䮶䐥θघᗻ㑤ቅ䣭୤Ƚ⑑ቇ⭕⭘θֵ㥬ൈ㦈ᔘθ೪䠃Ⲻᖧ丵㥬୼Ƚ㥬 䗨㏉☕θ᭻ੇਦ⚙㑳⶙ᓒ䲩᛻θ䄁≸᭵ᓒ㘹ឤᮇ☕᧠᯳Ⱦ32 δ‫ޣ‬ε1922 ᒪ 10 ᴾ 22 ᰛ㠩 28 ᰛθਦ्㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹ᯲ཝぱซ㠿䗜‫ޞ‬ਦ㼳㥬 ૷䂋ᴹθќ㠿㺂㺞ᖦ‫ݠ‬㢥㥬୼⍱ऋȾ⦨ᗍжㅿ⦄Ⲻᴿ 20 ੃θ∅੃⦄䠇 20 ൉θӂㅿ⦄Ⲻᴿ 40 ੃θ∅੃⦄䠇 10 ൉θпㅿ⦄Ⲻᴿ 60 ੃θ∅੃⦄䠇 5 ൉θ ⦨么⦄⣶Ⲻᴿ 100 ੃χ䲩ᵓ倵ᴹ䮭ῤ⦨߃㼳ऻつ㥬∊䌳主ⴤⲺӂㅿ⦄Ⱦ᯲৾ ૷䂋ᴹᵕ䯉θ㍺㒊㠞ᱸᓿ‫࠰ܯ‬୤㥬㚥ਾᴹθԛ㮺࡟ཐ䣭ᯯᕅθᥥ㠾ᐸ⋷θ㑷 ῤ㏉☕Ⱦ33 δйε1929 ᒪਦ⚙฻ሜ䶈ᒪ⛰ᨆॽᵢጬӰᮽौθ਀ᵃए⽴ᴹཝ⵴θᡆ㄁ Ҽж‫⛰੃ف‬ɇྸ≪⽴ɈⲺ⽴Ӛ‫‸ا‬䜞Ⱦྸ≪⽴ࢫᴹҁࡓθ㌺ᴿ 70 ੃ᴹଗθ‫ޝ‬ 䜞㍺㒊࠼⛰φྸ≪‫‸ا‬䜞Ƚ⽴ᴹӁᾣ䜞Ƚᆮ㺉ᱸӁ⹊ガ䜞ㅿп‫ف‬䜞䮶Ⱦྸ≪ ⽴ኢ᯲ညଗ࡬θ᧞䚮φ᷍ḅ༳δ୼ᐛ䢶㺂㪙ӁεȽ᷍⟀‫ݿ‬δཝᡆ⚡⚳⎭рؓ 䳠Ṡᕅᴹ⽴⽴䮭εȽ᷍ኛ‫ؗ‬δ‫ޞ‬䯟᯦๧ࢥ⽴䮭޲ѱㅼεȽ䲩ᵓ哕δऻつ㥬୼ 䲩⦿䵨ҁ‫⭭ޣ‬θ≮㼋㲕㪙ӁεȽ䲩㍯㼎δ⪔⌦୼㺂ᓍѱεȽᕫ␻⑥δぱ⊕‫ؗ‬ ⭞㍺ਾሾए⨼ӁεȽ㭗ᕅぶδᗁᑡεㅿ 7 ੃ᬊԱညଗȾੂᒪθྸ≪⽴‫‸ا‬䜞 ᯲ਦ्ᐸ⑥⭰ 3 зⴤࢫ㄁ཅᆙཝᆮθᤑ᭬ 50 ੃ᆮଗθ∅੃‫ޛ‬ᆮ䋱 1 ൉θ㚳䅑 䋱 2 ൉θ㠠 7 ᴾ 22 ᰛ䎭䙙㓂ӂ䙧θ∅ᰛᰟр 7 ᱸঀ㠩 10 ᱸঀ䅑䃨θ䅑ᑡ਀ᦾ 䃨〇ⴤྸсφ⽴ᴹᆮ᷍ኛ‫ؗ‬Ƚ⽴ᴹӁᾣᶫ␫㗟ᡵδਦ⚙㑳⶙ᓒഇ䁍εȽ⌋ᗁ 㭗ᕅぶȽ↭ਨ䙙䳻ุȾ22 ᰛ䎭䙙㓂п䙧θਜ䯁䗜དྷ䯉ཅᆙཝᆮθ䅑ᑡ䲚Ҽр 30 31 32 33 Ʌਦ⚙ᰛᰛ᯦๧Ɇθ1914 ᒪ 4 ᴾ 8 ᰛθᰛᮽ⡾ㅢ 2 ⡾χੂθ1914 ᒪ 4 ᴾ 28 ᰛθᰛᮽ⡾ ㅢ 2 ⡾χੂθ1914 ᒪ 7 ᴾ 12 ᰛθ╘ᮽ⡾ㅢ 5 ⡾Ⱦ Ʌਦ⚙ᰛᰛ᯦๧Ɇθ1918 ᒪ 9 ᴾ 5 ᰛθ╘ᮽ⡾ㅢ 6 ⡾χੂθ1919 ᒪ 4 ᴾ 11 ᰛθ╘ᮽ⡾ ㅢ 2 ⡾Ⱦ Ʌਦ⚙ᰛᰛ᯦๧Ɇθ1920 ᒪ 7 ᴾ 15 ᰛθ╘ᮽ⡾ㅢ 5 ⡾Ⱦ 䲩ཟּ㐞θɅੂᾣ㍺ਾਦ⚙㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹ⋵䶟ਨɆ. (ਦ्φਦ⚙㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹθ1938 ᒪ)θ丷 36– 57χɅਦ⚙ᰛᰛ᯦๧Ɇθ1922 ᒪ 10 ᴾ 14 ᰛθ╘ᮽ⡾ㅢ 6 ⡾χੂθ1922 ᒪ 10 ᴾ 23 ᰛθ ╘ᮽ⡾ㅢ 2 ⡾Ⱦ 106 Chu Te-lan ᵧᗭ㱣 䘦Ӱ༡ҁཌθ䚺ᆿᧈኧᵢᮏᑡ䅑ᦾ‫ؗ‬䁍⌋θᰛᵢᇎଗ╊䅑ਦ⚙≪⭘Ƚ⽜ᾣȽ 䠇㷃Ƚᮏ㛨ㅿሾ亂Ⱦ 1930 ᒪ 5 ᴾྸ≪⽴᯲ཝぱซȽ㩢㨥䯁䗜‫ޟ‬䯉䱺ኢ䟡䲘θԛ‫ⵁ⵴≇׵‬䁰⋱ ⱸȾ 34㏒рθਥ⸛ऻつ㥬୼৹ࣖྸ≪⽴θу‫ۻ‬ਥԛᔰ㄁㢥ླⲺ⽴ᴹᖘ䊗θъਥ ᬪᕫӰ㜾䰒‫׸‬θቃެ᧞ኋ㥬ᾣ㏉☕乍ᴿࣟⴀȾ ‫ٲ‬ᗍжᨆⲺᱥθ䲩ᵓ倵ԛ 37 ↨㤧ᒪৱьᗂθ᧛Աਦ्㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹᴹ䮭Ⲻᱥ ऻつ㥬୼䲩ཟּδ䥜䁎㼳㥬ᴹ⽴ᓍѱεȾ䲩ཟּп⭭␻⌘࠰⭕᯲ 1905 ᒪθᒪ ቇᴴᆮ㘈╘ᮽθᓾ䮶ѣ㨥ѣᆮ⮘ᾣθ1921 ᒪ 16 ↨৹㠽㥬ᾣᗂуѻθቧԛ䥜䁎 㥬㺂ᑮए䓡Գ⍱䓃᯲⡠૽Ƚਦ्ҁ䯉Ⱦ1928 ᒪ䲩␻⌘ᬊԱਦ्䆜ሕ㖨㇗‫ؓޝ‬ ⭨ঊᴹ䂋䆦ଗȽཝぱซ䶈ᒪൎ䮭θ1932 ᒪ㌴ਾཝぱซ䶈ᒪ㍩୼θࢫ䁣ɇਦ् मᾣ‫㍺⭞࡟⭞ؗ‬ਾɈᬊԱ㍺ਾ䮭θќॽԱ䥜䁎㼳㥬Ṡᕅᴹ⽴ᑮए㪙ӁȾ䲩␻ ⌘୼ᢃ࠰⵴θ1933 ᒪᡆ㄁ɇਦ्୼ᐛঊᴹɈᬊԱᴹ䮭θ1934 ᒪ㻡䚮Աਦ्ᐸ ঊ䆦ᴹଗθ1935 ᒪ⮬䚮ਦ्ᐸᴹ䆦ଗθ൞᭵⮂Ƚ୼⮂᫷ᴿᖾ儎Ⲻ㚨ᵑȾ35 1934 ᒪ‫┵ڳ‬ᐔുᡆ㄁ᗂθ䲩ཟּ⡬ᆆ䪇᯲঍⍁㨥‫ᧈ܇‬ᰛ䚁ऋ儎╨θ⛰ᢉ 䯁ऻつ㥬䣭䐥θ⦽‫ݾ‬ኋ䯁ਦ⚙ऻつ㥬䕮࠰┵ᐔҁ䋵᱉⍱ऋȾ1941 ᒪའᒩ⍁ᡦ ⡣⠼Ⲳθ㥬䕮࠰䋵᱉ᰛ䏞ദ䴙θࣖԛਦ⚙㑳⶙ᓒሜ᯳ᡦᱸ儊࡬θсԚ䠃᯦᮪ 义㥬ᾣθ߃㼳㥬ᾣ਍ࡦᖧ丵θቄ㠪᭬ⅽૂ䕿ᾣⲺӰᖾཐȾ1944 ᒪਦ्㥬୼‫ޢ‬ ᴹ䙨㺂᭯㍺θ᯦ᡆ㄁Ⲻɇਦ⚙㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹɈᴹଗ⑑㠩 73 Ӱθ俌Աᴹ䮭⭧᭯੃⛰ ⭦ᐓ␻⌘Ⲻ䲩␻⌘࠰Աθࢥᴹ䮭⭧ࢿᇍ࿏δ঍㠾⍁㺂ᓍѱεᬊԱθ䂋䆦ଗާ 11 ੃θ࠼࡛⭧ 7 ੃ᰛ୼φՀ㰚޲ਿδਦ⚙㥬䕮〱࠰Ṡᕅᴹ⽴ᓍѱεȽѣቴᶴ ⋱δп㨧୼Ӂԙ⨼ӰεȽㄯ‫ޝ‬ะ䳺δпӋ䗨᷍Ṡᕅᴹ⽴ਦ्᭥ᓍ䮭εȽѣ䠄 ॷ䜄δѣ䠄ॷ䜄୼ᓍᓍѱεȽр࿱ᔙδਦ्ᐔ㥬࠰㦭㍺ਾԙ⨼Ӱε⸩≪␻⋱ δኛ↭у䂩εȽ䮭⭦㾵⋩δኛ↭у䂩εθԛ਀ 4 ੃ਦ୼φ⧁␱⚥δᮽኧ㥬㺂 ԙ⨼ӰεȽ䗒ᥥ⭡δཝ㼋㥬㺂⽴䮭εȽဒ⪔᱂δਦ⚙㥬ᾣṠᕅᴹ⽴ᓍѱεȽ 哹㏣⭕δ᯦ㄯᐔ㥬ᾣṠᕅᴹ⽴ᓍѱεᬊԱȾ⭧рਦ⚙㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹⲺᒯ䜞੃௤ 㼗θ៿ਥሕ⸛‫ޢ‬ᴹ㼗Ⲻ䠃㾷Ӱ⢟ཐ⭧ᰛᵢሜ࣑⍴୼ӰᬊԱȾᨑ䀶ҁθਦ୼ᐨ у߃ᧂᨗਦ⚙㥬䕮࠰䋵᱉ҁ‫ݠ‬घȾ36 34 35 36 Ʌਦ⚙ᰛᰛ᯦๧Ɇθ1929 ᒪ 2 ᴾ 24 ᰛθᰛᮽ⡾ㅢ 7 ⡾χੂθ1929 ᒪ 7 ᴾ 7 ᰛθ╘ᮽ⡾ ㅢ 4 ⡾χੂθ1929 ᒪ 7 ᴾ 16 ᰛθ╘ᮽ⡾ㅢ 4 ⡾χੂθ1930 ᒪ 10 ᴾ 25 ᰛθ╘ᮽ⡾ㅢ 4 ⡾χੂθ1932 ᒪ 3 ᴾ 23 ᰛθ╘ᮽ⡾ㅢ 4 ⡾Ⱦ╘⨃䴱ᆆ䋽ᯏᓡɅਦ⚙Ӱ⢟䃂Ɇθ㏨൶ http://libdata.ascc.sinica.edu.twθ2010 ᒪ 8 ᴾ 27 ᰛᕋ⭞Ⱦ ࢃᕋ╘⨃䴱ᆆ䋽ᯏᓡɅਦ⚙Ӱ⢟䃂Ɇθ2010 ᒪ 8 ᴾ 27 ᰛᕋ⭞Ⱦ ᗆ㤧⾛Ƚ䁧䌘⪚θɅਦ्ᐸ㥬୼ᾣੂᾣ‫ޢ‬ᴹᴹਨɆθ丷 118–124Ⱦ 䘇ԙਦ⚙ऻつ㥬୼ 107 ӊȽਦ⚙ऻつ㥬㺂Ⲻ୼ᾣ㌴㍑ ␻‫ݿ‬㐈 15 ᒪδ1889εਦ⚙㥬୼⛰᭯㢥Ƚ‫׹‬䙨㥬㩿䋵᱉θ໔䙨ੂ㺂䯉ҁ࡟ⴀθ ᴴᴿࢫ䁣ɇ㥬䜀≮ૂ㠾Ɉҁ㍺㒊Ⱦ᱄⋱ 30 ᒪδ1897ε㥬䜀≮ૂ㠾᭯でɇਦ⚙ 㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹɈȾ1898 ᒪ᭯⛰ɇਦ्㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹɈȾཝ↙ 3 ᒪδ1914εਦ⚙㑳⶙ᓒ ᤽⽰䠃᯦᭯㍺θ1915 ᒪ߃᭯でɇੂᾣ㍺ਾਦ्㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹɈθ᫷ᴿᴹଗ 134 ੃Ⱦੂᾣ㍺ਾਦ्㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹⲺѱ㾷ᾣएऻᤢφжȽ䄶≸᭯஺㼳㥬૷䌠Ƚ䲃ք ⭕⭘䋱ҁᯯ⌋χӂȽ᭯஺Ӛ᱉Ƚᤉኋ䣭䐥਀䃵ḛ㠽↚⴮䰒䁀ᚥχпȽ䃵ㇶ㥬 㩿䕮࠰ᯯ⌋Ƚ䱨↘୼ᾣㄬ⡣ҁᕀㄥχ഑Ƚ䃵ḛ㥬㩿ᐸ๪䳼ᮙȽӚ᱉᛻๧χ ӊȽԨ㻷ᴹଗ䯉⠕ᾣᯯ䶘ҁ㌴㍑χ‫ޣ‬ȽⲲ㺂ᴹ๧θࡀ䔿㥬ᾣ⴮䰒Ӂ主਀ᴹए ⣶⋷ㅿȾ㾷䀶ҁθ䁣㄁‫ޢ‬ᴹⲺⴤⲺᱥ⛰䶟䲚㼳㥬ᾣⲺᕀㄥȽ᭯㢥ਦ⚙㥬૷ 䌠θ਀ᬪᕫਦ⚙㥬ᐸ๪θቃ᯲у↙⮬㏉⠕Ⲻ㥬୼䀸ᇐ㖦ࡽθ⭧‫ޢ‬ᴹਢ䯁ᒯ䜞 ᴹ䆦Ҿԛ㻷࡚Ƚ㲋࠼Ⱦ37 举㾷⮏ᝅⲺᱥθਦ्㥬୼൞Ӛ᱉㥬㩿ᱸθ㏉ᑮⲲ⭕୼ᾣ㌴㍑Ⱦྸφᴿ䴒 ‫ࣙޛ‬㥬θ冐ⴤ␭⨖㘻χᴿ䕮‫ޛ‬ѣു㥬‫ڳ‬でਦ⚙㥬㘻χᴿ䂆ⅰ਌䋗㘻χᴿᵠ਍ ᭵ᓒ⃘ᇐθ⿷㼳〚䠅ಞૂ㠠㼳〚䥎Ƚ〚㍘㘻χᴿ‫߈ٽ‬ԌӰҁ୼⁏㘻ㅿㅿȾ 38 ൞䄮Ӛ᱉㍑⡣ѣθᕋ䎭仞⌘䔹ཝⲺθࡽᴿс䘦 18 ᇬ㥬㺂᧝઀䜣ᱛ〝ⲱ䤺୼⁏ ṾԬȽᔰᱛ㲕‫׫‬ᇩ≮㼋㲕୼⁏ӁԬȽཝぱซ㥬୼䋟䌙唪㥬ӁԬȾ δжε18 ᇬऻつ㥬㺂᧝઀䜣ᱛ〝䁱߀୼⁏ṾԬ 1900 ᒪ 11 ᴾਦ्ཝぱซᴿ 18 ᇬऻつ㥬㺂Ƚ୼㲕ԙ㺞θ঩᤽φᮽᐓ㲕⍠㤧Ƚ ᔰ⌦㲕䲩ᥥ䁎Ƚ⿅ᔰ᱂㲕䲩䕓䴠Ƚ⨃䁎㲕䲩ཝ⨃Ƚᔰᡆ㲕哹␻ㅏȽ≮㼋㲕䲩 ⦿䵨Ƚ䴽঍㲕哹␱⋿ȽⓆᱛ㲕哹␻喁Ƚૂᱸᱛ㲕⧁ỿ᫵Ƚ⨃ᱛ㲕⧁㣩でȽ䊆 㼋㲕ᕫখ具Ƚᡆ䁎㲕俢ᆾ䅏Ƚ⿅঍᱂㲕Ƚ䗦䁎㲕Ƚᙗ㼋㲕ࢿ␻䩎Ƚ⋿㗄㲕ⲳ ⻝Ƚᥥ⌦㲕᷍⏽≪ȽҴ࡟㲕䝣≪ԏㅿθԌ‫ੂާه‬䙙㖨Ҽжሷ䲩᛻ᴮθੇਦ् 㑙䗨୼䃨₡ኧ༥⅗䜄䃨䮭ᨆ࠰φ᫚䣭䜣ᱛ〝Ⲻ୼⁏䁱߀Ṿθԛᵕ㏣䆭ੂᾣާ ੂ࡟ⴀҁ䁪≸Ⱦδ㿁䱺Ԭ 2ε ᴿ䰒↚ж⡣䁕Ṿᆆθެ৕ညྸсȾ ␻ᆙਦ्㏉⠕ऻつ㥬䕮࠰ᓾ䮶Ⲻ㥬㺂Ƚ㥬䤠㑷ཐθᓾ䮶ᇎᔩ‫ݷ‬䁧㥬୼দ⭞φ 䴏匩Ƚ䠇㪡㰼ȽӊদȽⲳ㪡㰼ㅿ⎭ཌ਺൦௒↗䣭୤Ⲻ୼⁏θԛ࡟㥬୼䕮࠰ཌ ുȾऻつ㥬୼䜣ᱛ〝 1896 ᒪ㠠ᓾ䮶ּਦθ䯁䁣ɇ䥜⾛㲕Ɉ䋟䌙ऻつ㥬θ1898 ᒪᬊԱ㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹᴹ䮭ᗂθഖ㾷≸਺㥬㺂㾷ሽާᴿⲺ୼⁏θ֋㘻ླ䣭θ֋㘻у ླ䣭θ‫ޞ‬䜞੾๧‫ޢ‬ᴹθ㯿ԛⷣ䀙୼⋷θ㎆᷒Ԍ࡛ᴿ⭞ᗹθ1900 ᒪ 7 ᴾሽੂᾣ 37 38 ᗆ㤧⾛Ƚ䁧䌘⪚θɅਦ्ᐸ㥬୼ᾣੂᾣ‫ޢ‬ᴹᴹਨɆθ丷 47-49Ƚ52Ƚ55Ƚ48–49Ƚ60Ⱦ Ʌਦ⚙ᰛᰛ᯦๧Ɇθ1898 ᒪ 8 ᴾ 14 ᰛθᰛᮽ⡾ㅢ 2 ⡾χੂθ1899 ᒪ 9 ᴾ 15 ᰛθ╘ᮽ⡾ ㅢ 3 ⡾χ1906 ᒪ 10 ᴾ 26 ᰛθᰛᮽ⡾ㅢ 5 ⡾χੂθ1907 ᒪ 8 ᴾ 30 ᰛθ╘ᮽ⡾ㅢ 2 ⡾χ ੂθ1908 ᒪ 7 ᴾ 1 ᰛθᰛᮽ⡾ㅢ 3 ⡾Ⱦ 108 Chu Te-lan ᵧᗭ㱣 䙐⭞ཌുᴶ᳘䣭ⲺӊদȽ䴏匩Ƚ䠇㪡㰼ㅿ୼⁏θ⴪᧛ੇᰛᵢ䗨୼एⴷⲱ䁎θ ๧で⛰Ԍᖶᰛ㠠⭞ऻ㼓ҁ୼⁏Ⱦ18 ᇬऻつ㥬㺂㚔⸛↚Ӂθᕭ⛾ᣍ䆦䜣ᱛ〝у ਜ䁣᯦୼⁏θሽ䮭ѻԛּੂᾣ䙐⭞ҁ୼⁏ᬐ⛰⿷ᴿθ‫׫‬ᇩੂᾣᰘᴿⲺ࡟ⴀθ ⛰↚θ㙂៽≸₡ኧ䃨䮭䕿๧䗨୼एⴷθ‫↘ڒ‬਍⨼ެ୼⁏ⲱ䁎ṾȾ39 䜣ᱛ〝㻡Ӱ᭱ᬀθᖾ⋈䶘ᆆθቧੇਦ⚙㑳⶙ᓒ䄁于θ㎆ֵ᷒୼⁏ⲱ䁎Ṿ仞 ⌘᜾╊᜾⛾Ⱦδ㿁䱺Ԭ 3ε₡ኧ䃨䮭ᑂᵑᚥӁምӰθ‫׵‬ਢ䳼㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹᴹ䮭Ƚᒯ ӁȽ亝அθम઀Ԍ‫ه‬ԁ‫ޛ‬䃵‫ڒ‬θ䇉䴏ᯯੂᝅૂ䀙Ⱦδ㿁䱺Ԭ 4εռԚӰ᝕ࡦᝅ ཌⲺᱥθ䜣ᱛ〝ੇ⌋䲘ᨆ࠰䁪䁕θ᧝઀ᮽᐓ㲕⍠㤧䚋⣥ެ୼⁏Ⱦ⃘ሕᇎࡦᮽ ᐓ㲕㫆䅿θ↙ླᓍѱ⍠㤧䎪ᓾθу൞ᓍ‫ޝ‬θ⃘ሕᇎ঩ḛᢙᓍ㼗ᮮॷԬ㥬䋞θ Ӛ㎜⮬൦ॶ䮭ؓ㇗Ⱦ䜣ᱛ〝᧝઀ᮽᐓ㲕жṾθ㻡ੂᾣ㿌⛰᧝઀ 18 ᇬऻつ㥬㺂 ‫⁏୼ެ׫‬ҁ㠿ऋȾ18 ᇬ㥬㺂ॷ࠼≙៚θ䙸᯲ᶧӢည䁍໔ጬ‫ޣ‬ж䜄ᗁᑡ࠰䶘᧝ ઀䜣ᱛ〝θ㾷≸䜣≅φжȽ᫚䣭୼⁏ⲱ䤺ሾ⭞χӂȽ䌖‫ݕ‬ᮽᐓ㲕ᩃཧχпȽ ੇᮽᐓ㲕䅓㖠θੜࡽ㎋у㖭ՇȾ40 ਦ्ᔩ䮭㨀⊖ᵡའ䜄䃃⛰୼⁏Ṿҁሟ࡚ぁᓅ⴮⮬䋱ᱸθ⛰ᚆ五ղ㌴㍑ኚ࠰ уヤθ᭻Ԛ਺୼㲕൞ 1901 ᒪ 3 ᴾᓋԛࢃθ㾷ሽᡶ⭞୼⁏⁙ᕅжжさ๧ᇎᔩᆎ 䅿Ⱦᵕ䯉ऻつ㥬㺂᳡ਥֵ⭞㡀䙐⭞୼⁏θ䜣ᱛ〝ࡽуᗍ߃ᢙᣲੂᾣҁऻつ 㥬Ⱦ41 ެሜθᰛᵢ᭵ᓒ⛰᧞ኋ䘇ԙौɇ⇌⭘㠾ᾣɈ㏉☕᭵ㆌҁ䴶θ൞৹㘹㾵ᯯཐ ുҁ୼⁏࡬ᓜᗂθᰟ㠠᱄⋱ 17 ᒪ(1884)䎭θቧᐨሜ᯳୼⁏䁱߀⌋θԛ࡟ᾣ㘻 ؓ䆭ќᨆॽެ૷⢂‫ؗ‬䆳Ⱦᰛᵢ୼⁏⌋㏉䚄 1888 ᒪȽ1899 ᒪӂᓜ‫ؤ‬䀸θ୼⁏ᝅ 䆎╮╮Ფ਀᯲ᰛᵢᵢൕθ᜕ᵠੇ⇌≇൦ᇙቄθԛ㠪ਦ⚙୼⮂ཐᖾ䲂⭕Ⱦ 42 ‫ݎ‬ ㇗ྸ↚θᶧӢ⌋䲘䃃⛰᱄⋱ 32 ᒪ 7 ᴾ 1 ᰛਦ⚙ᐨሜ᯳୼⁏⌋θ䜣ᱛ〝᯲᱄⋱ 33 ᒪ 7 ᴾੇ䗨୼एⴷ⭩䄁୼⁏䁱߀θ‫ד‬ᬐ୼⌋ㅢӂồㅢӊ㲕୼⁏ⲱ䤺㿅ᇐθ ⨼៿਍ࡦ⌋ᗁؓ䆭θ᭻᯲ 1901 ᒪ 12 ᴾᇙ࡚䜣ᱛ〝ओ䁪Ⱦ43 18 ᇬऻつ㥬㺂᧝઀䜣ᱛ〝䁱߀ሾ⭞୼⁏Ṿ㻡㻷ᇐᮍ䁪ᗂθ䲚Ҽ㾷䋖ᬊж ㅼ⛰ᮮਥ㿶Ⲻ䁪䁕䋱ཌθ䚺уᗍ߃⭞ӊদȽ䴏匩Ƚ䠇㪡㰼ㅿ୼⁏࠰୤ऻつ 㥬θᩃཧ乍⛰ᐞཝȾ18 ᇬऻつ㥬㺂уᵃθੇᶧӢ⢯䁧ቶȽ⌋䲘р䁪θ൞䮭ᒪ ⡣䁕ᵕ䯉θഖᴿ㥬୼ੂᾣᯗᰁ䃵䀙θԛ㠩᯲ 1908 ᒪ 8 ᴾ䚊ᡆૂ䀙ާ䆎Ⱦ䴏ᯯ 39 40 41 42 43 Ƀ ਦ ⚙ 㑳 ⶙ ᓒ ‫ ޢ‬ᮽ 五 㒸 Ʉ ㅢ 9202 ߀ θ Ƀ ਦ ् 㥬 ୼ ‫ ޢ‬ᴹ ˠ 䰒 ˎ ̀ Ԭ Ʉ θ ᱄ ⋱ 34 ᒪ δ1901ε1 ᴾ 1 ᰛθ丷 75–80Ⱦ Ʌਦ⚙ᰛᰛ᯦๧Ɇθ1901 ᒪ 1 ᴾ 16 ᰛθ╘ᮽ⡾ㅢ 4 ⡾χੂθ1901 ᒪ 2 ᴾ 3 ᰛθ╘ᮽ⡾ ㅢ 5 ⡾Ⱦ Ʌਦ⚙ᰛᰛ᯦๧Ɇθ1901 ᒪ 3 ᴾ 26 ᰛθ╘ᮽ⡾ㅢ 3 ⡾χੂθ1901 ᒪ 4 ᴾ 3 ᰛθ╘ᮽ⡾ ㅢ 3 ⡾Ⱦ ᰛᵢ୼⁏䁱߀θ httpφ//www.inttm.org/Article/yzzc/184.htmlθ2010 ᒪ 8 ᴾ 7 ᰛᕋ⭞Ⱦ Ʌਦ⚙ᰛᰛ᯦๧Ɇθ1901 ᒪ 12 ᴾ 3 ᰛθᰛᮽ⡾ㅢ 2 ⡾Ⱦ 䘇ԙਦ⚙ऻつ㥬୼ 109 䚶䄁㑳⶙ᓒ⇌⭘ቶਚ₁⴪δ䗨୼ԙ⨼䃨䮭εȽ㄁ᐓӁएᇎȽਦ्ᔩ⴮䰒ᇎଗ ࠰ᑣ㿁䅿θ൞ཝぱซჳ⾌ᇤ❐俏θ㠿㺂Ҽૂ䀙ܶᕅȾ44 δӂεᔰᱛ㲕‫׫‬ᇩ≮㼋㲕୼⁏ӁԬ 1900 ᒪԛּθਦ्ཝぱซ㥬㺂䪇᯲୼⁏⛰Ⲳᨐ୼૷‫ؗ‬䆳θᱥ୼ᾣрⲺᗻ㾷⢟ Ԭθੇ⮬ቶ䁱߀ሾ⭞୼⁏㘻໔ཐθ䗺 1912 ᒪ⛰↘θᐨ䁱߀䚄Ⲻ୼⁏ཐ䚊ᮮॷ つθռԃᴿ㕰҅୼⁏㿶ᘫⲺ㥬୼Ⲳ⭕‫׫‬⣥୼⁏ҁӁȾྸθ1908 ᒪ≮㼋㲕䁱߀ ж‫ف‬᯦୼⁏ɇ㣧㤧দɈθㄕ㻡ཝぱซᵓ䲳㺍 46 㲕ᔰᱛ㲕ᓍѱ⧁≮㨥‫ֵڭڭ‬ ⭞θሽཝ䠅ऻつ㥬䌙㎜ᓾ䮶⪔Ⓠ㲕Ⱦ⧁≮㨥Ⲻ㺂⛰ж⴪ࡦ 1912 ᒪᢃ㻡≮㼋㲕 ሕ㿰Ⱦ≮㼋㲕ੇ⌋䲘᧝઀⧁≮㨥‫ⴀ⅀⁏୼ެ׫‬θ⃘ሕᇎࡦ⧁≮㨥ᓍ‫ޝ‬ᩒḛθ ⮬๪ᢙᣲⲴ低㇧ᑬᴿ㣧㤧দ୼⁏Ⲻऻつ㥬Ⱦ45 δпεཝぱซ㥬୼䋟䌙唪㥬ӁԬ 1922 ᒪཝぱซ⪔⌦㲕ૂ㤛ᒨ୼㲕θ㠠⋌㒟䙨ਙ 13,500 ᯚऻつ唪㥬θ㏉⮬ቶ䃵 ḛθ䲚⋈᭬唪㥬ҁཌθཝ䜞࠼Ⲻ唪㥬䜳ᐨ㏉䚄䠒⛈θ␭‫ླޛ‬㥬ҁ‫ޝ‬㻡䌙ࡦѣ ঍䜞Ⱦਦ्㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹ㚳㚔↚Ӂθ㄁঩ਢ䯁ᒯ䜞ᴹ䆦θ䲩ᵓ倵ᴹ䮭Ƚ䲩ཟּ⨼ Ӂ਀‫ޢ‬ᴹᒯ䜞ൽ࠰ᑣ䁄䄌唪㥬அ亂θᴹѣ⊰䆦ቃ〱‫ޛ‬唪㥬Ⲻ‫ؗ‬ᡆ㥬㺂θ⭧‫ޢ‬ ᴹ⋈᭬⨴䋞жॹ低ᯚθૂ㲋㖦䚄ᙖ䠇 40 ൉χቃಪ≪␭‫㊿ޛ‬㥬ⲺԨԁ୼θࡽ㲋 㖦䚄ᙖ䠇 20 ൉θќ⋈᭬⨴䋞Ⱦ46 ᴿ䰒䙏⅗䙨ਙ唪㥬ӁԬθᴿӰ᢯䂋ਦ्㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹቃ㢥ᗭ㲕ᓍѱ੩ᮽ⿶Ⲻ 㲋㖤乍уᗯᓋȾ๧⽴䁎㘻⢯࡛ሾ䁠䲩ᵓ倵ᴹ䮭θ䲩ᵓ倵ቃ↚ⵁ⌋θࡽ䗥䀙᯲ ᗂȾ ਦ्㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹ⛰ᨆ儎ਦ⚙㥬Ⲻ૷䌠θ਀ᬪᕫ㥬㩿䣭䐥䎭㿁θ㍖ᴿᆿᧈᒴ੃ Ӱଗሾ䮶ᗔӁ਌㐖㼳㥬ҁ᧠᯳θ㙂൞Ⲳ⭕唪㥬ӁԬԛࢃθ⃘㠿у㢥㼳㥬Ṿᐨ ᴿ 22 ԬȾ㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹቃ㤛ᒨ㥬୼Ⲻ☡㼳㥬㺂⛰θ䜳ᴹਢ䯁ᴹ䆦θҾԛ㲋㖦θ㥬 ୼ᵢ䓡ҕ⭘⭕㠠㿰θ⃘ֵ㠿ṾԬ╮╮⑑ቇȾ䙏⅗⠼Ⲳ䙨ਙ唪㥬ӁԬθሜ⛰ᾣ ⮂Ⲻжཝ᚛䗧θ㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹ㎋уሢᇛȽ᭴ԱȾ 㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹⲺഖ៿᧠᯳ᱥθ11 ᴾ 18 ᰛདྷᲐቃཝぱซᡶᴿ㥬ἝȽ㥬㺂䙨㺂䃵 ḛθ㎆᷒Ⲳ⨴ᗭᕕ㥬㺂⎮≪㥬 200 ᯚθ‫ޞ‬䜞Ҿԛ⋈᭬χ᯦ঊ䊆Ƚ‫ؗ‬ᡆ㥬㺂䅿 ᬐ⻰䪵θ䲚Ҽ⋈᭬⨴䋞ԛཌθቐ㲋㖦䚄ᙖ䠇Ⱦ㙂੩ᮽ⿶䴌ᴿ䙨ਙ㥬θ㥬୼‫ޢ‬ ᴹҕ‫ڐ‬䚄䃵ḛθռެ⨴䋞ᐨ㻡ެ㏉⨼䌙ࡦ঍䜞Ⱦ䘇ж‫ف‬ᴾּθ൞ཝぱซԊ㍦ ᩒḛθќ⋈ᢴࡦԱ֋ਥ⯇Ⲻ⨴䋞Ⱦቧ㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹ㚭⅀㙂䀶θ⋈ᴿ൞ਦ्ᐸ‫Ⲳޝ‬ ⨴ᰛᴢ㥬Ƚ⎮≪㥬ㅿ唪㥬θቧ❗⌋䏀ॶ㻷㖦Ⱦ֋⋷੩ᮽ⿶ᒩᰛቃ㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹҁ Ӂ䶔ᑮ⟧ᗹθԌᴴࡍᑣ৹ࣖ㲋㖦᯦ঊ䊆㥬㺂Ⲻᒯ䜞ᴹ䆦θ⮬ᱸԌҕᠭ⯇㠠ᇬ 44 45 46 Ʌਦ⚙ᰛᰛ᯦๧Ɇθ1908 ᒪ 8 ᴾ 13 ᰛθᰛᮽ⡾ㅢ 3 ⡾Ⱦ Ʌਦ⚙ᰛᰛ᯦๧Ɇθ1912 ᒪ 5 ᴾ 23 ᰛθᰛᮽ⡾ㅢ 7 ⡾Ⱦ Ʌਦ⚙ᰛᰛ᯦๧Ɇθ1922 ᒪ 11 ᴾ 16 ᰛθ╘ᮽ⡾ㅢ 6 ⡾Ⱦ 110 Chu Te-lan ᵧᗭ㱣 ᓍ‫ޝ‬㏉⨼䌙࠰ৱⲺ㥬ᱥуᱥ唪㥬Ⱦ㑳ҁθ⮬ᵢӰम઀੩ᮽ⿶䗣ৱ‫ޢ‬ᴹ䂋䆦ଗ 㚭एᱸθ㄁঩਌ᗍԌⲺ䄈䀙θᨆ࠰䗣੾θ㺞⽰于ᝅ൞ᇬ㠠ⴷθ᧛਍⽴ᴹ䕵䄌 Ⲻ࡬㻷Ⱦ⽴ᴹཝ⵴ቃ᯲㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹ㲋㖤唪㥬ӁԬθղ҄䃚䀙乍␧θռ‫ٲ‬ᗍឬᒮ Ⲻᱥθ䙏⅗ᖾᰟⲲ⨴唪㥬அ亂θ唪㥬ҕਠ䲆᯲ጬ‫⎾ޝ‬䋱θќᵠ䕮࠰㗄ുȽ⡠ ૽θ⹪༔ਦ⚙㥬൞⎭ཌᐸ๪Ⲻ‫ؗ‬䆳Ⱦ47 ӊȽ㎆䄌 ѣു㠠ਚԛּᰘᱥж‫⭘ف‬㥬ཝുθҕᱥᴿ੃Ⲻ㥬⎾䋱ཝുθ䘇ԙԛࢃᴪᱥ⦞ খു䳑ᐸ๪Ⲻ䕮࠰ཝുȾਦ⚙㠽ެ䠃㾷⭘㥬ॶ⿅ᔰж㺙ᑬ≪θ୼ᾣ㏉☕ӈऋ ᇼ࠽θ⭧᯲ጬ‫ޝ‬ཐኧθ≙ُⓡ᳌▤☋ᖾ䚟ਾつ㥬θ᭻㠠 19 ь㌶ѣ㩿䎭θ঩ᴿ 㥬୼ሽᆿⓠ‫ݠ‬㢥૷つ㥬㤍〱ὃጬ‫ޝ‬θ㏉䚄㥬䗨ฯ㛨θ⿅ᔰ㥬ᑡȽ㥬ᐛ۩ᦾ㼳 㥬ᢶ㺉θ㥬୼ゃᾫⲺ᧞䣭⎭ཌθԛ㠩᯲䗻䙕㠾䎭✅嗃㥬䚁䣭㗄ുθ䙨㙂 19 ь ㌶ᗂᵕᑬऋऻつ㥬䕮࠰ᶧ঍Ӕθ1930 ᒪԙ߃䯁க㌻㥬䕮࠰ↆ㗄ുᇬθ㐖䙖ਦ ⚙㥬Ⲳኋп䳄⇫θ仞㺂‫ޞ‬ь⮂Ⲻ↭ਨ᯦丷Ⱦ 㪍੃㥬୼䲩⦿䵨θ৕㊃ᓾ䮶Ӱθᰟ൞ 1870 ᒪԙ‫׵‬ԛᓾ䮶⛰ᬐ唔θ㏉⠕䕮 ࠰⿅ᔰ㥬ࡦদቲ⡠૽Ⲻ㥬䋵᱉ӁᾣȾ1899 ᒪ䲩⦿䵨ૂެᆆᵓ倵⑗ਦθ↮ौ⛰ ᰛᵢ㊃ᗂθഖ⛰䲩ᵓ倵ཟ䋽㚦ឝȽ୼ₕᮅ䣩θ⛰Ӱឭឞθ৾‸஺ླ᯳θ᭻ᗍ ㍥ゃ䋗ሂθ䲚Ҽ൞ਦ्ཝぱซ䁣ᴿ≮㼋㲕ᵢᓍཌθቐ᯲⡠૽䁣㄁ཐᇬ᭥ᓍθ 1914 ᒪᴪ㠾ᔰ㤧ു䜳䩮ᱸԙⲺↆᕅ࡛ົɇ൉ኧ࡛㧀Ɉθԛ⛰᧛ᖻ਺⮂㚔Ӱ䳻 ༡Ⲻ⽴Ӛ๪ᡶȾ䲩ᵓ倵↭Աਦ्㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹᴹ䮭Ƚਦ⚙㼳㥬૷䂋ᴹᴹ䮭Ƚぱ⊕ ‫㍺⭞ؗ‬ਾ䮭Ƚ᯦儎䢶㺂㪙Ӂ䮭Ƚਦ्ᐔঊ䆦ଗȽਦ्ᐸमᾣညଗ਀㺑⭕ည ଗȽਦ⚙⎾䱨ᖯ㍺ਾညଗθӡᴿጽ儎Ⲻ⽴ᴹ㚨ᵑȾ㾷䀶ҁθԌᱥ㏉⠕ऻつ㥬 ᡆࣕ㠪ሂθᨐ੃ു䳑୼๪ⲺླׁᆆȾ 1910 㠩 1930 ᒪԙθਦ⚙ऻつ㥬୼⛰⎾䲚㼳㥬ᾣᕀ⯻Ƚ᭯㢥㥬㩿૷䌠θќ 䯁ᤉ㥬䕮࠰ᐸ๪θ൞᧞ኋ㥬ᾣр乍ཐ֒⛰Ⱦྸθ䁣㄁ਦ⚙ӰⲺ䠇㷃ₕ θԛ ࡟㥬୼㷃䋽χੇਦ⚙㑳⶙ᓒ⭩䄁㼒ࣟ䋱θ൞਺ශঐ㿳ᴹ䁣㖤ɇਦ⚙௡㥬 ᓍɈθԛ‫׵‬ᇙ۩Ƚ᧞䣭ਦ⚙㥬χੇদቲᇎᯯ䄁于θ㾷≸䀙䲚䙨ਙਦ⚙㥬⾷ Ԛχ㠿䗜‫ޞ‬ਦ㼳㥬૷䂋ᴹȽ㠿㺂㺞ᖦ‫ݠ‬㢥㥬୼⍱ऋθԛᨆॽਦ⚙㥬ㄬ⡣‫ݠ‬ घχ৹ࣖྸ≪⽴θ᧞ᔙ⽴ᴹӁᾣθᔰ㄁㥬୼㢥ླᖘ䊗θԛࣟ㥬ᾣ㏉☕⅙⅙ੇ ῤȾ ਦ्㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹࢫ㄁᯲ 1915 ᒪθᱥж䄶≸ੂᾣާੂ࡟ⴀⲺ㍺㒊θ↭ቼᴹ 䮭Ƚ䠃㾷ᒯ䜞䜳⭧ਦ⚙ऻつ㥬୼࠰Աθ↚ж⨴䊗ਃ᱖θਦ㊃㥬୼ᧂᨗऻつ㥬 䕮࠰‫ݠ‬घȾऻつ㥬乍਍দቲ⡠૽Ƚѣു਀俏⑥ᐸ๪↗䘄θഖެ䕮࠰䠅ཝȽ୤ ‫ܯ‬儎θ୼ᾣ࡟ⴀ‫ݠ‬৐θ᭻੮ᕋуቇ㥬୼ࣖ‫ޛ‬ᐸ๪ㄬ⡣θ㙂‫׫‬খ୼⁏Ƚ䋭䌙唪 47 Ʌਦ⚙ᰛᰛ᯦๧Ɇθ1922 ᒪ 11 ᴾ 21 ᰛθᰛᮽ⡾ㅢ 9 ⡾χੂ 1922 ᒪ 11 ᴾ 22 ᰛθᰛᮽ⡾ ㅢ 2 ⡾Ⱦ 䘇ԙਦ⚙ऻつ㥬୼ 111 㥬ㅿ୼ᾣ㌴㍑ҕ䳞ҁ໔ཐȾ㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹ⛰⎾䲚ᾣ⮂ᕀㄥθ㏣䆭ੂᾣ‫ؗ‬䆳਀ާੂ ࡟ⴀθൽԛ‫ޢ‬䆦ᡌԨ㻷ᯯᕅθ䀙⊰⡣ㄥȾ ‫ٲ‬ᗍ䰒⌞Ⲻᱥθ൞ᰛᵢⲲऋ‫׫‬㨥ᡦ⡣Ƚའᒩ⍁ᡦ⡣ᵕ䯉θऻつ㥬୼਍ࡦ਺ ൦ᦶ䎭ᧈᰛ䋞䚁ऋⲺᖧ丵θ䕮࠰䋵᱉䲭᯲ദູθ⛰ᢉ䯁࠰䐥θ䴌❬䕿ੇ┵ ᐔθ੾⨴䋵᱉֩㑴θռ൞ਦ⚙㑳⶙ᓒሜ᯳ᡦᱸ儊࡬θ䱱⽏㠠⭧䋵᱉᭵ㆌсθ ԃуᗍу᭬ⅽᡌ㑤ቅ䋵᱉⍱ऋθ㙂ሜ࣑䳺৐Ⲻᰛ୼ࡽ਌ԙਦ୼θᧂᨗҼऻつ 㥬ቃཌ䋵᱉ҁ‫ݠ‬घȾ 112 Chu Te-lan ᵧᗭ㱣 䱺Ԭ 1φ1909 ᒪ≮㼋㲕㺂ଗ੃߀Ⱦ 䋽ᯏּⓆφɃ᱄⋱ 42 ᒪਦ्ᔩਦ्㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹ⃊ṾɄθ䁧䌘⪚‫⭕ݾ‬ᨆ‫ב‬㼽দ䋽ᯏȾ 䘇ԙਦ⚙ऻつ㥬୼ 113 䱺Ԭ 2φ1900 ᒪਦ् 18 ᇬऻつ㥬㺂ਃቃ䜣ᱛ〝䁱߀୼⁏ሾ⭞䲩᛻ᴮδ䜞Գ䋽 ᯏεȾ 䋽ᯏּⓆφɃਦ⚙㑳⶙ᓒ‫ޢ‬ᮽ五㒸Ʉㅢ 9202 㲕θɃਦ्㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹˠ䰒ˎ̀ԬɄθ᱄ ⋱ 34 ᒪδ1901ε1 ᴾ 1 ᰛȾ 114 Chu Te-lan ᵧᗭ㱣 䱺Ԭ 3φ1900 ᒪऻつ㥬୼䜣ᱛ〝䁱߀୼⁏ሾ⭞Ṿθ੾Ӛਦ⚙㑳⶙Ⲻ䄁于ᴮȾ 䋽ᯏּⓆφɃਦ⚙㑳⶙ᓒ‫ޢ‬ᮽ五㒸Ʉㅢ 9202 㲕θɃਦ्㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹˠ䰒ˎ̀ԬɄθ᱄ ⋱ 34 ᒪδ1901ε1 ᴾ 1 ᰛȾ 䘇ԙਦ⚙ऻつ㥬୼ 115 䱺Ԭ 4φ1901 ᒪ䗨୼䃨䮭䄁ਦ्㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹ࠰䶘ঊ䃵䜣ᱛ〝䁱߀୼⁏அ亂ҁᮽ ԬȾ 䋽ᯏּⓆφɃਦ⚙㑳⶙ᓒ‫ޢ‬ᮽ五㒸Ʉㅢ 9202 㲕θɃਦ्㥬୼‫ޢ‬ᴹˠ䰒ˎ̀ԬɄθ᱄ ⋱ 34 ᒪδ1901ε1 ᴾ 1 ᰛȾ Taiwan in Early Qing Chinese Poetry Christian Soffel Introduction: The relevance of Qing poetry and collections of Qing poetry on Taiwan Since antiquity poetry has always been an integral part of China’s culture. Burton Watson states that “whatever level of society it may have sprung from, poetry is woven into the life and history of the Chinese people, and perhaps no other facet of their traditional culture possesses such universal appeal.”1 Still, the late imperial dynasties are in general not considered to represent the culmination of poetic literature. Watson himself ended his collection of poems with the thirteenth century, because, as he states “by that time the shih, the principal poetic form in use in the early period, had clearly passed the zenith of its development and inspiration. In later centuries [...] the focus of interest tended to shift to other poetic forms or to other genres such as drama and fiction.”2 As a matter of fact, Ming and Qing poetry is either omitted totally or only plays a marginal role in many anthologies of Chinese poetry. 3 However, from the viewpoint of the early modern Chinese themselves Watson’s statement is not quite true: in fact, poetry and poetry collections have been very popular all the time. But the originality of late imperial poetical work sometimes seems rather lacking. After all, the Qing dynasty was a time of literary inquisition, during which individuality in poetry writing was stifled, 4 and many poets would rather seek to imitate the ancient masters from the Tang dynasty. 5 Hence, instead of stating that the Ming and Qing literati lost interest in writing poetry, it would be more appropriate to describe this period as a time of decelerated poetical 1 2 3 4 5 Watson, Burton, The Columbia Book of Chinese Poetry. (New York: Columbia University Press, 1984), p. 1. Ibid., p. 2. See for example Lai T. C. and Kwong Y. T., Chinese Poetry (Hong Kong: Swindon Book Company, 1972), Liu Wu-chi and Lo Irving Yucheng, Sunflower Splendor – Three Thousand Years of Chinese Poetry (Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 1975), and Yip, Wailim, Chinese Poetry – An Anthology of Major Modes and Genres. (Durham and London: Duke University Press, 1997). Barnstone, Tony, Chou Ping (ed.), The Anchor Book of Chinese Poetry. (New York: Anchor Books, 2005), p. LXVIII. Idema, W. L., Spiegel van de Klassieke Chinese Poëzie. (Amsterdam: Meulenhoff, 19935 [1991]), p. 618–619. 118 Christian Soffel innovation, during which the focus shifted from creating new styles of expression towards mimicing older patterns. The writing of poems was common practice among Qing government officials and private literati alike. Result of this passion is an astonishingly large number of works having also a high value as historical source. Aside from more or less peculiar historical facts that can be extracted, the material grants direct insight into the psychological situation of the principal and the supporting performers on the historical stage. Its range includes of course also Taiwan as part of the Qing Empire. Poetry composed by people born on the island or by mainlanders during their stay there is meanwhile readily available in several abundant collections. Most of them have been printed in Taiwan, but some are also coming from the People’s Republic of China or can be dated back to the first half of the twentieth century. Already the historian Lian Heng 䙙₡ (1878–1936), well-known author of the Comprehensive History of Taiwan (Taiwan tongshi 㠰⚙䙐ਨ), gathered poetry from Taiwan. His most important works of this kind are the Collected Poems from Taiwan (Taiwan shisheng 㠰⚙䂟Ҏ) and the periodical Anthology of Taiwanese Poetry (Taiwan shihui 㠰⚙䂟㮾). Having a favour for writing verses himself, he also produced several poems, often with strong patriotic undertones, which were praised by later authors as continuation of Chinese culture under Japanese rule.6 Another early collection are the Records of Poetry from the Three Taiwanese Districts (San Tai shi zhuan п㠰䂟۩) by Li Yushu ᶄ┷ਊ (1904–1972), completed in 1955. He continued Lian Heng’s efforts and mainly tried to assemble poetry from the Qing period that was lost during the time of Japanese occupation. Still larger awareness in this field came into existence during the last twenty years, on both sides of the Taiwan Strait. The recently emerged conciousness of a genuine Taiwanese cultural uniqueness has fostered an increased interest in Taiwanese poetry as well. Of course, this search of identity is fueled by the current political situation; the conflict with the People’s Republic of China poses to the population of Taiwan the question how “Chinese” they really are. To find possible answers for these issues, there have been large scale research projects on the corresponding subjects. This has also led to the compilation of the Complete Taiwanese shi-Poems (Quan Tai shi ‫ޞ‬㠰䂟), a currently still ongoing project supervised by Shi Yilin ᯳ᠵ⩩. Several years ago, this research group published five volumes (Guojia Taiwan wenxue guan, 2004), containing about 800,000 characters of poetry in five volumes and covering the period from 1661 to around 1850. Currently there are plans to expand this work up to 1945, even though the more recent material is very abundant and difficult to edit, as the editors state in the preface. The Quan Tai shi includes the complete extant shi 䂟 oeuvre from people, who were born in Taiwan, and furthermore incorporates verses by literati from abroad written during their stay on the island. The pieces are arranged chronologically, and short biographies of 6 See for example Liao Yijin ᔌж⪴, Taiwan shi shi 㠰⚙䂟ਨ. (Taibei: Wenshizhe chubanshe, 1998), p. 352f. Taiwan in early Qing Chinese poetry 119 the authors are provided as well. It should be noted that shi is to be understood as “shi-poetry” and not as poetry in general: This collection encompasses (not surprisingly) only pieces written in Chinese language, and therefore does not represent the whole scope of poetry ever produced on the island (which would have to include at least material in Japanese, the aborigine languages, and maybe even Spanish and Dutch). But also Chinese poetry in other styles (like ci 䂔, qu ᴨ or fu 䌜) is not included. The Quan Tai shi is not only available in printed form, but also online, including a full-text character search function, which makes it a very valuable research tool. Aside from this rather complete database, there are still other collections worth looking at, either because they provide additional information in their commentaries, or because they grant insight into some other cultural phenomena. For example, there is a very nicely made volume called Three Hundred Taiwan Poems (Taishi sanbai shou ਦ䂟пⲴ俌, Taibei 2003, edited by Yang Zhichu ᾀ⴪⸍), which is of course an allusion to some famous older collections of classical poetry (in particular the Tang shi sanbai shou ୆䂟пⲴ俌 or the Song ci sanbai shou ᇁ䂔пⲴ俌). But this book also contains the pronounciation of each single character in a Taiwanese Minnan 䯟 ঍ dialect, written in a phonetical transcription system derived from the Zhuyin fuhao ⌞丩ㅜ㲕 popular in Taiwan (also known as Bopomofo ̏̐̑̒). This is of course also done because the Minnan pronounciation has preserved the traditional rhyme categories much better than the northern Putonghua Ფ䙐䂧. However, it should be noted that several of the poets included in the Taishi sanbai shou were in fact from other parts of China, not even from Fujian, and probably never recited their poems in Minnan dialect. Hence the Tai shi sanbai shou is a nice example of modern Taiwanese local colour. But there are also interesting collections from the other side of the Taiwan Strait, for example the Mirror of Patriotical Taiwanese Poetry (Taiwan aiguo shijian ਦ⚙ ᝑു䂟䪈), compiled by the Institute of Literature of the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences (Zhongguo shehui kexueyuan wenxue yanjiusuo ѣു⽴ᴹ〇ᆮ䲘ᮽᆮ ⹊ガᡶ, 2000). This little volume shows, not surprisingly, very strong anti-secession undertones. Not only is Taiwan described as integral part of China in the preface, but particular focus is also given to the patriotic thought contained in the chosen verses. So we can see that both Taiwanese and Mainland collections are influenced by present day political issues. Aside from the material mentioned above, there are still more very interesting sources. Later in this paper I will also show an example of poetry, whose author has never been to the island. 120 Christian Soffel A short historical outline of Chinese poetry in Taiwan All in all we can state that there is abundant material waiting to be examined. However, research on it seems to be somewhat sparse, especially in Western languages. Not only do historians tend to focus on archive material and other more mundane writings, but even most of those doing research in the field of Taiwanese literature seem to be more interested in modern poetry, even though its previous history is a fascinating subject as well. There are several works on this topic published in Taiwan. However, we also find different perspectives here. For example, while Liao Yijin is focusing on the ties between Taiwanese literature and the mainland, 7 Chen Zhaoying states that “because of the peculiarities of Taiwanese humanistic culture, like the coexistence of aboriginees and Han-Chinese and the experience of being a Japanese colony for 50 years, the expression of [Taiwanese ...] literature does not completely conform to the world of Han-Chinese life and spirit.”8 These two statements are not necessarily contradictory to each other, but definitely show a different standpoint in scholarship. According to Chen Zhaoying, the evolution of Taiwanese poems before 1945 can be split into three periods. The first would be the reign of the late Ming loyalist and resourceful seafarer Zheng Chenggong 䝣ᡆࣕ (1624–1662) and his successors. The most important poet of this time is Shen Guangwen ⊾‫ݿ‬ᮽ (1612–1688). His set of six poems entitled I Wish To Return (Si gui ᙓ↮) was composed around 1662, or ten years after Shen’s arrival on Taiwan, 9 and expresses his grief from being separated from his home on the mainland. It is at least partly contained in most of the later anthologies, and he was praised by Lian Heng for being the first prolific poet in Taiwan.10 The following period comprises the first half of the Qing rule, featuring mainly poetry by officials dispatched from the mainland. They tend to focus on their own experience being cast away from their homes, but also on the beautiful scenery and the difficulties of the local population on the island. 11 From the 19th century onwards, Taiwan became more and more important as defense against the colonial forces and their imperialism. Patriotic feelings and an increased level of public education contributed to the emergance of so-called “poetry societies” (shi she 䂟⽴), which started to become numerous from 1851 on.12 After the Japanese had taken power in 1895, these poetry societies continued to strive. On the one hand, they were trying to preserve the Chinese cultural tradition, but on the other hand, many of the newly composed poems were in fact glorifying 7 8 9 10 11 12 Ibid., preface (zixu 㠠ᓅ) p. 3, and also main text pp. 3–5. Chen Zhaoying 䲩ᱣ㤧, Taiwan shi xuanzhu ਦ⚙䂟䚮⌞. (Taibei: Zhengzhong, 1996), p. 1. Ibid., p. 12. Ibid., p. 2. Ibid., p. 4. Liao Yijin, op. cit., pp. 32ff. Taiwan in early Qing Chinese poetry 121 the Japanese rule.13 However, after the fall of the Qing in 1911 on the mainland, the classical poetry in Taiwan weakened due to the influence of modern trends, mainly the Taiwanese New Literature Movement (Xin wenxue yundong ᯦ᮽᆮ䚁ऋ), featuring literature in contemporary spoken Taiwanese dialect.14 In order to keep this essay brief and simple, I will narrow down the scope of the research on the 17th and 18th century and present some interesting samples from that time period. Special focus will be given on poetry as a historical source. Poetry by scholar-officials dispatched to Taiwan Let us first look at some examples composed by Sun Yuanheng ᆡ‫ݹ‬㺗 (c. 1661–?, styled Xiangnan ᆍ⒎঍). Being a native of Tongcheng Ẇค (today Anhui province) he was born into a poor family. After passing the civil service examinations, he first served in Shandong as magistrate of Xincheng (᯦คԚ) and later in Sichuan as magistrate of Hanzhou (╘ᐔ⢝), where – according to some local gazetteers – he gained large merits. He was then sent to Taiwan as coadministrator (Taiwan tongzhi 㠰⚙ੂ⸛), where he stayed for four years, before being dispatched back to Shandong.15 He left two main collections of his own poems, the first is called Poems from the Single Stone Garden (Pianshiyuan shi ⡽⸩ൈ䂟) and contains works composed prior to his arrival on Taiwan. Interesting for us, however, is the Chikan-Collection (Chikan ji 䎚ᎂ䳼), obviously named after the Fort Provintia (in Chinese Chikan cheng 䎚ᎂ ค or Chikan lou 䎚ᎂ⁉, at a location in the modern city of Tainan), 16 a wellknown garrison originally built by the Dutch, but by then already taken over by the Chinese for a long time. The Chikan ji was composed in 1705–1708 and is the oldest poem collection specifically devoted to Taiwan. It found official recognition already in the Qing dynasty, since is mentioned in the imperial catalogue Siku quanshu zongmu ഑ᓡ‫ޞ‬ᴮ㑳ⴤ; however, it was not included into the Siku quanshu ഑ᓡ‫ޞ‬ᴮ anthology itself. In total, the Chikan ji consists of 360 poems divided into four chapters (juan ভ). Sun Yuanheng gives a detailed description of his private and official life in Taiwan, his impressions of the environment during his travels and the local life. Let us now take a look at a few examples: 13 14 15 16 Chen Zhaoying, op. cit., pp. 5–6. See Chen Yixiong 䲩䙮䳺, Lin Zhuangsheng ᷍㧀⭕ (trsl.), “Taiwan xin wenxue yundong daolun 㠰⚙᯦ᮽᆮ䚁ऋቄ䄌”, Wenxue Taiwan ᮽᆮ㠰⚙ 36 (2000.10), pp. 41–54. For Sun Yuanheng’s life, see Chen Jiahuang 䲩ᇬ➂, “Lun Sun Yuanheng ji qi Chikan ji 䄌ᆡ ‫ݹ‬㺗਀ެɅ䎚ᎂ䳼Ɇ”, Hanxue yanjiu ╘ᆮ⹊ガ 23:2 (2005.12), pp. 289–320, in particular pp. 290–295. The character ᎂ is alternatively written ጷ. 122 Christian Soffel ᆡ‫ݹ‬㺗φ䲚㠰⚙䜗єᇘԛ⎭ൌ㿁䚰╡䌜жㇽᇺ䄮ੂᆮ ѣ৕ॷӊᐔθ❗൦䁍ᡇ䏩Ⱦ䣒ળ㦭㱣ുθጣᐼᡠ⎭㞯Ⱦ ᣡ㥨♑༌ൌθጬᏲ㍑ਥ⸐Ⱦഔ䓡᤽঍ᯍθᶧ㾵ᰛᴾ⎪Ⱦ 们仞ᙈᴿ㚨θ倣⎠฼㈭ᑻȾ│⊊㍸ਚᗹθ☽☷㩢䠂ⴤȾ ∡䠆Ღ㡕䕵θ぀㊩䗞ᐌ䉭Ⱦ䚉⢽㼮儊Ӱθᐸ㧳䙙䴨ㄯȾ 㿳㘻ⶡ⭕㣈θ㚔ҁ㛂䎭㋕Ⱦᇺ䃔ᒩ⭕㿠θሽ∁ⴗжଣȾ A random poem sent to my comrades, when I was given a sea map while traveling to serve in the district of Taiwan17 Inside the fifteen provinces of the Central Plain, there is no room to rest my foot. Carrying official order of the country of the Dutch, the steep sails of the boats penetrate the ocean’s body. I hold this map of the coastal line, and all the islands can be observed. When turning back, one can see the Southern Dipper;18 East and West is bathed in the light of sun and moon. The tempest is howling angrily, terrifying waves pile up around the sails. In our minds the eternity is cleansed; before our eyes infinity becomes visible. Tiny boats and chariots become clearly discernible; mountain valleys appear small like rice corns. Naked people are running around on the streets, and bamboo scrub is growing as high as the clouds. If you see it then your eyes will go blind; if you hear to it, your body will start to tremble. These words I am sending to my family and close friends, so that they hopefully will not be unhappy all the time. At first glance the parallelism between the Chinese Central Plain and the Dutch is quite surprising. Already in 1662 the Dutch had been expelled from Taiwan by Zheng Chenggong’s forces – forty years before these verses were written. Instead of assuming that Sun Yuanheng considers Taiwan still as Dutch territory, we should rather suppose that this poem is a description of the map he mentions in the title, an old sea map depicting foreign ships, islands, weather conditions, celestial constellations and the local aborigine population. It is a tale of the bustling surroundings of modern Tainan, but also of the primitive environment. Obviously these drawings on the maps had a big influence on the view outsiders had of Taiwan. This includes all the pictures on the maps, and the consciousness of Taiwan being a former platform for Dutch activities. Furthermore we can conclude that maps were also used by people not directly involved in seafaring as travel guide. Let us now look at another example from the Chikan ji: 17 18 See Quan Tai shi bianji xiaozu ‫ޞ‬㠰䂟㐞䕥ቅ㍺ (ed.), Quan Tai shi ‫ޞ‬㠰䂟. (Tainan: Guojia Taiwan wenxueguan, 2004), vol. 1, p. 252. This refers to a group of stars in the constellation Sagittarius. Taiwan in early Qing Chinese poetry 123 ᆡ‫ݹ‬㺗φᣫ㠰⚙ ‫ޡ‬ᑻᖷᐼ㩳䚖グθ㫲嗃䣒⠣Ა⌘㌻Ⱦ⍨ࢃㄯ⯇↮ᗂθཟཌ䴨ኧղམѣȾ 咵㙩ⴠ㓉࠼ᐜ䐥θ刚䓡⋏㐐࡟঍仞Ⱦᴮ੃㍏ቴ⸛❗㼒θ㪍ᗍ䂟ㆈ㠽䠙ㆈȾ ⎠䀶⸘ᘍ൞►␻θঐᗍཟ⏥⊍╡㺂Ⱦኧघ्ⴚ✅兲⑗θ▤㚨঍ੲ䎚ᎂคȾ ⵲᱄䊗ཌпॹ⮂θ㞮䕿Ӱ䯉ॷӂᴪȾᡇ㠽㰽儥ੂу᚞θ㥨⑮ཽ㎋ߖᒩ⭕Ⱦ Arriving in Taiwan19 The vessel with eight yard sails is entirely lost in the void; the Dragon Stars connect with the torch light and redden the evening waves. The bamboo forest in front of the isle makes me feel to have returned back home; the clouded mountains far in the skies are like in a dream. The drifting tassels mark the left side of the channel in the harbour; when passing by the Leviathan isles 20 one benefits from southern winds. My name appears only at a useless place at the bottom of the governmental ranking list, but I have got my casket with the poems and my fishing tackle. In copious words I have sworn to strive for integrity, and now I can wander boundlessly within the entire world. The hilly landscape in the north engulfs the Black Ghost Ferry, the noise of the flood in the south echoes in the walls of the Chikan fort. My eyes can see the Three-Thousand-World 21 beyond our consciousness, but inside I have only passed through twenty-four hours of our secular time.22 Just like the old poet Su Shi I do not complain, the marvels of this journey crest my whole life. Already in his previous poem we have observed Sun Yuanheng’s mixed positive and negative feelings about Taiwan. He is obviously quite impressed by the spacious landscape of the Tainan harbour, but also feels somewhat lost in the foreign environment quite different from the mainland. We can also get some insight into the relaxed working morale of Sun Yuanheng. He is actually quite contented to fill an unimportant position at the bottom end of the official clerk ranking list. By freeing himself from bureaucratical duties, he is about to have a lot of leisure time. Since he speaks about this openly and without any shame, we can conclude that living a relaxed life was not a taboo for the Qing 19 20 21 22 See Quan Tai shi, op. cit., vol. 1, p. 259 f. The Leviathan Isles (in Chinese Kunshen 刚䓡, named after the giant fish appearing at the beginning of the book Zhuangzi) were a group of seven islands close to the port of modern Tainan. They do no longer exist today. This is a Buddhist expression, referring to the Three-Thousand-Great-Thousand-World (san qian da qian shijie пॹཝॹь⮂), or the “Buddha-world”. In his comment the author says that twenty-four hours are the time needed fort he ship passage from the mainland to Taiwan. 124 Christian Soffel officials. This attitude also had its merits: Thanks to these pastime efforts we have collections like the Chikan ji today. Our next poet had a much more thrilling time on Taiwan. Lan Dingyuan 㰃啄 ‫( ݹ‬1680–1733, styled Yulin or Ren’an ᆍ⦿䵌ȽԱᓫ), originally from Zhangpu ╩ ⎜ in Fujian, is well-known as co-editor of the huge geographical work The Comprehensive Gazetteer of the Great Qing (Da Qing yitong zhi ཝ␻ж㎧ᘍ). He was sent to the island around 1721 in order to strike down the rebellion led by Zhu Yigui ᵧж䋪 (1690–1722). Eventually he authored the Brief Notes on Taiwan’s Pacification (Ping Tai jilüe ᒩ㠰㌶⮛) and the Collection on the Eastern Expedition (Dongzheng ji ᶧᖷ䳼). It is not surprising that Lan Dingyuan experiences Taiwan in a much more negative way than Sun Yuanheng did. In many of his writings we find a strong emphasis on local problems, with the aim to further expand the settlements in Taiwan. Even though his suggestions were not accepted by the government, they have influenced later policies to improve Taiwan’s development.23 The following excerpt is part of a poetry collection with the title Taiwan jin yong shi shou cheng xunshi Huang Yupu xiansheng 㠰⚙䘇䂖ॷ俌੾ᐗֵ哹⦿ഹ‫( ⭕ݾ‬Ten pieces recently recited in Taiwan and presented to the superintendent Huang Shujing 哺ਊ⫛ (doc. 1709)): 24 㓃㓃֋⛰㘻θ㾵ּ‫⑗ڭ‬ӰȾ䣹䩰䴒䋡㍘θж䳀ж䞮䗑Ⱦ క⊓⛰侇偻θ䄸㥨৕䳦⭽Ⱦ㡕ᆆԱ❗ૄθᤤᦤ䋭㾷⍛Ⱦ ም⸛ᱥ‫⑗ڭ‬θⲱዮ⿃਀䓡Ⱦਥ᚞൞㡕ᆆθ⇑↱у䏩ӇȾ ⊓䚉㏉吰ጬθびሕਮ俢䮶Ⱦਮ俢ᴿদ➝θж㍏⛰㢥≇Ⱦ ⊓ᝐѹ㠩ᯥθᡇⅨ␐⋴ᐴȾ૶૿↚২⾷θ⣥㘻ԃ乱乱Ⱦ ྮᗈⴚ⮅䂦θᤷ➝ㄕ㧡ఊȾ㥨⌋᷒ᚥྮθ䴌ߚӜᇒचȾ ྸެᡌᵠᗻθም᯳⌋ཌӷȾ Why are all these people tied up together? They are illegal immigrants from the west. They are entwined by the shackles, and the whole group is full of bitter feelings. Alas, you have been driven from home by famine and have been told new fields are available here. The skipper did not have to worry in the least, as you scraped money together for the passage. You better should have known that this is an illegal passage and that you would meet trouble upon arrival. Despicable is foremost the skipper, to punish him to death would worry me the least. On the way you have passed through Ludao,25 where the examination official resides. The official has a seal, with one sheet of paper you become a law-abiding man. 23 24 25 See his biography in Quan Tai shi, op. cit., vol. 2, p. 15. See Quan Tai shi, op. cit., vol. 2, p. 17. Another name for the modern island of Xiamen ᓾ䮶. Taiwan in early Qing Chinese poetry 125 Your foolishness is to such a high degree that my tears are going to moisten my clothes. Alas, in spite of this very harsh law, there are by far many who disobey it. The true criminals should fear to be interrogated, but they have the permit and are not prosecuted. If this law would really stop the evil, even those caught innocently should be careful about it. But in this case this should even be unnecessary, and it would be better to temper justice with mercy. This piece is a very impressive poem and shows a lot of compassion to the illegal immigrants from the mainland. It is a bit irritating that Lan Dingyuan naively assumes it to be easy to get a permit for the passage to Taiwan, since the restrictive immigration rules imposed by the Qing are well-known. 26 Maybe he was just emphasizing the legal way of moving to Taiwan, since he represented the official Qing government himself. Since this poem was presented by the author to his superiors, we can also see it as an appeal to lessen the immigration threshold enforced by the Qing. In this piece we also learn about the reasons for migration. He speaks of a great famine on the mainland, which forced the population to pursue the hazardous and illegal task of traveling to Taiwan on their own account – to a dangerous territory by itself. The description about the people smugglers is also very revealing: it seems that they in fact owned a travel permit that saved them from prosecution when caught. Lan Dingyuan is aware of the human tragedy and sympathizes with the actual victims, the population from the mainland. Imperial poetry on Taiwan All the present collections of Taiwanese poetry described at the beginning of this paper focus on pieces composed by literati dwelling in Taiwan, being either visitors or permanent residents. But the topos “Taiwan” also appears in poetry by people, who have never set foot on the island, and a study about Taiwan in Qing poetry would not be complete without mentioning them. This includes even the Qing emperors, in particular Qianlong Ҵ 䲼 (1711– 1799, r. 1736–1795), whose poems constitute a quite informative source. Already in 1683 the Manchu dynasty had established control over Taiwan, long before he was born, but the ambitious Qianlong was keen to surpass every previous Chinese emperor.27 As such, he was especially proud of his military accomplishments, in particular of his ten victorious military campaigns (Shi quan ॷ‫ )ޞ‬against the Dsungars, the Mohamedans of Turkestan, the Jinchuan 䠇ᐓ rebels from Sichuan, the rebels led by Lin Shuangwen ᷍⡳ᮽ (?–1788) on Taiwan, the Burmese, the An26 27 Itoh Kiyoshi Հ 㰚 ▊ , Chen, Walter 䲩 ≪ 㷰 (trsl.), History of Taiwan. (Taibei: Avanguard Publishing House, 2004), pp. 56–61. See Mote, F. W., Imperial China 900–1800. (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2003 [1999]), p. 913. 126 Christian Soffel namese and the Gurkas, some of which are counted twice.28 It should be noted that he was not personally involved in several of them, and confined himself to giving orders from Peking. After each of his victories, he took measures to demonstrate the presence of Qing authority in the corresponding regions. By his own hand he conceived inscriptions for nine steles carried by giant stone tortoises (bixi 䍊ኣ) at the Chikan Fort in modern Tainan 㠰঍, and a tenth situated in present-day Zhongshan ѣኧ Park in Jiayi ి㗟, close to the location of the put down rebellion.29 Similar tortoises can of course be found in many places of the former Qing Empire, not just on Taiwan. Qianlong also took great pride in his achievements as poet. His poetical works are omnipresent in his sourroundings. His mannerism of writing his poems directly on precious old paintings from the imperial palace collection is well known, but they appear also on various other art objects, like fans 30 or even jade vessels imported from Hindustan.31 The Collection of Imperial Poems (Yuzhi shiji ᗗ㼳䂟䳼) is a compilation of Qianlong’s poems from the 44th year of his reign and incorporated into the Siku quanshu. The editors proudly state in the preface that it contains several ten thousand pieces, by far more than any other poet ever living in China had produced. However, the actual role played by Qianlong during the creation process should be relativized. Some contemporary records say he often muttered just a few inarticulate words, and his servants wrote them down in form of complete well-balanced verses, which then counted as being “made by His Majesty” (yuzhi ᗗ㼳). Another source states that all of the pieces in the Yuzhi shiji were either created or revised by the venerated master poet and court favourite Shen Deqian ⊾ ᗭ ░ (1673–1769). 32 This statement can be substantiated by the fact that the quality of Qianlong’s poetry mysteriously worsened after Shen Deqian had fallen in disgrace.33 Whether original or not, there can be no doubt that the contents of the Yuzhi shiji represent the ideas of Qianlong. It is not surprising that we can find many verses on the military campaign against Lin Shuangwen. 34 One good example is the Parallel Sentences Written on the Occasion of the Pacification of Taiwan (Pingding Taiwan 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 See Hummel, Arthur W. (ed.), Eminent Chinese of the Ch’ing Period (1644–1912). (Washington: United States Government Printing Office, 1943), p. 369f. The author of the article on Emperor Qianlong in Hummel’s book, Fang Zhaoying, also writes: “Several of these campaigns can hardly be called victories in any far-reaching sense” (p. 370). Guo Guoliu 䜣᷒‫ޣ‬, “Taiwan di Qianlong yuzhi shiwen bei 㠰⚙ⲺҴ䲼ᗗ㼳䂟ᮽ⻇”, Lishi yuekan ↭ਨᴾࡀ 119 (1997.12), pp. 16–22. Zhuang Lian 㧀㐪, “Qianlong huangdi di yuzhi shi Ҵ䲼ⲽᑓⲺᗗ㼳䂟”, Zhonghua wenhua fuxing yuekan ѣ㨥ᮽौᗟ㠾ᴾࡀ 13:3 (1980.3), p. 71–75 (p. 71). Deng Shuping 䝝␇㱁, “Yisilan di qipa – Diao you Qianlong yuzhi shi di Hendusitan yuqi Հ ᯥ㱣Ⲻཽ㪟 – 䴋ᴿҴ䲼ᗗ㼳䂟ⲺⰋ䜳ᯥග⦿ಞ”, Gugong wenwu yuekan ᭻ᇤᮽ⢟ᴾࡀ 75 (1989.6), pp. 92–111. Zhuang Lian, op. cit., p. 73. Ibid., p. 75. For details on this rebellion see Hummel, op. cit., p. 23f. Taiwan in early Qing Chinese poetry 127 lianju ᒩᇐ㠰⚙㚥ਛ), appearing not only in the Yuzhi shiji, but is also in the earlier collection Short Record of the Pacification of Taiwan on Behalf of the Emperor (Qinding pingding Taiwan jilüe ⅳᇐᒩᇐ㠰⚙㌶⮝). The Pingding Taiwan lianju is a set of 1,008 characters in seventy-two parallel sentences (lianju 㚥ਛ) and is preceded by a preface, which gives information on the history of Taiwan up to the recent events during Lin Shuangwen’s uprisal. The impressive length truely reflects the splendor and richness the emperor claimed for himself, not just in his life style, but also in his literary works. The structure is also very elaborate. It consists of some parts (allegedly) written by Emperor Qianlong himself, meandering through sections written by his officials as shown in the following diagram ( ƽ or ƾ represents a character attributed to Qianlong, ƻ or ƿ a character attributed to one of his servants; ƾ and ƿ denote the rhyme characters): ˟˼́˸ʳ ˄ʳ ˅ʳ ˆʳ ˇʳ ˈʳ ˉʳ ˊʳ ˋʳ ˌʳ ˄˃ʳ ˄˄ʳ ˄˅ʳ ˄ˆʳ ˄ˇʳ ˄ˈʳ ˄ˉʳ ˄ˊʳ ˄ˋʳ ˄ˌʳ ˅˃ʳ ˅˄ʳ ˅˅ʳ ˅ˆʳ ˅ˇʳ ˅ˈʳ ˅ˉʳ ˅ˊʳ ˅ˋʳ ˅ˌʳ ˆ˃ʳ ˆ˄ʳ ˆ˅ʳ ˆˆʳ ˆˇʳ ˆˈʳ ˆˉʳ ʳ ƽƽƽƽƽƽƽ ƽƽƽƽƽƽƽ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƽƽƽƽƽƽƽ ƽƽƽƽƽƽƽ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƽƽƽƽƽƽƽ ƽƽƽƽƽƽƽ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƽƽƽƽƽƽƽ ƽƽƽƽƽƽƽ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƽƽƽƽƽƽƾ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƽƽƽƽƽƽƾ ƽƽƽƽƽƽƾ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƽƽƽƽƽƽƾ ƽƽƽƽƽƽƾ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƽƽƽƽƽƽƾ ƽƽƽƽƽƽƾ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ˟˼́˸ʳ ˆˊʳ ˆˋʳ ˆˌʳ ˇ˃ʳ ˇ˄ʳ ˇ˅ʳ ˇˆʳ ˇˇʳ ˇˈʳ ˇˉʳ ˇˊʳ ˇˋʳ ˇˌʳ ˈ˃ʳ ˈ˄ʳ ˈ˅ʳ ˈˆʳ ˈˇʳ ˈˈʳ ˈˉʳ ˈˊʳ ˈˋʳ ˈˌʳ ˉ˃ʳ ˉ˄ʳ ˉ˅ʳ ˉˆʳ ˉˇʳ ˉˈʳ ˉˉʳ ˉˊʳ ˉˋʳ ˉˌʳ ˊ˃ʳ ˊ˄ʳ ˊ˅ʳ ʳ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƽƽƽƽƽƽƽ ƽƽƽƽƽƽƽ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƽƽƽƽƽƽƽ ƽƽƽƽƽƽƽ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƽƽƽƽƽƽƽ ƽƽƽƽƽƽƽ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƻ ƽƽƽƽƽƽƽ ƽƽƽƽƽƽƽ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƽƽƽƽƽƽƾ ƽƽƽƽƽƽƾ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƽƽƽƽƽƽƾ ƽƽƽƽƽƽƾ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƽƽƽƽƽƽƾ ƽƽƽƽƽƽƾ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƻƻƻƻƻƻƿ ƽƽƽƽƽƽƾ ƽƽƽƽƽƽƾ ƽƽƽƽƽƽƾ 128 Christian Soffel The authors of each part are stated explicitly in the small print commentary to the Yuzhi shiji: Lines 2b–10a were written by Wang Jie ⧁ᶦ, lines 12b–20a by Debao ᗭؓ, lines 22b–30a by Hu Jitang 㜗ᆙุ, lines 32b–40a by Huiling ᜖喗, lines 42b–50a by Abida 䱵ᗻ䚊, lines 52b–60a by Ye Guanguo 㩿㿶ു and lines 62b– 70a by Yan Fu ೪⿅. This sophisticated design makes this poem look much larger than Qianlong’s personal contribution actually was. In fact, the emperor “wrote” only sixteen lines or only about a fifth of the whole piece. But nevertheless, the emperor still “composed” twice as many lines as of each of his servants. Consequently, he still is doubtlessly considered to be the main contributor, and his dominant position is hereby preserved. The last characters of each line also are mutually different and rhyme pretty well.35 It is, however, questionable, whether he wrote this piece in dialogue with his entourage, or whether he first composed (or inspired) his sixteen lines en bloc, which were then extended by his servants. Judging this question from the contents of the poem, the latter is more likely. Here a translation of lines 1–10 and 71–72 (the underlined parts are attributed to Qianlong, the rest of this sample text to Wang Jie):36 (1) уᝅ࿌≑➳⎭༌θᬈ‫ݽ‬㭼Ӂ䙤㏉ᒪȾ (2) ╮ӷ᪟㗟ថ᜕ᡇθⲲឤ࠰䄶ᒴ൞‫ݾ‬Ⱦ (3) 㾕ᑬ঍ⓕᔲ䯟ⴷθ‫∍ד‬ཌ䜗ᴦ㠰ଗȾ (4) 㚽䯁㥼ἎߜՅ㧳θᰁᬐ㦭㱣≪䐋匬Ⱦ (5) 䇌៿䴔匪䴌ጬ㄀θ↜ᡆ⢶ሺㄕ⌘ᒩȾ37 (6) Ⲵᒪᴿӊཟⷱᯍθжᓒ䳮п᱕ࡍ䓊Ⱦ (7) ൕ⊹⭙䊆侈㋕㭍θӰ嗄ྮ䴒䮭㳊㶓Ⱦ (8) ٗ䛠ᕫ冥䁑␱ᕕθᣋ⓰ⴝᗠྺᗍԏȾ (9) ⩥ऋ㪣⚦ㄵခᨣθ㠎䵇哛䴠⢎ּ۩Ⱦ (10) ᱥ֋㹘⡴ㄕᮘ⡴θ঩ԛᵠ❬⸛ᗻ❬Ⱦ [....] (71) 䙣䌜㹨〕᯳ᗂᚫθ↹≇㑧੅ᛊࢃ᜼Ⱦ (72) 㚞੕䃂䚄䶔䃂௒θ䃂入ു့㩢䠂ᇙȾ We did not expect that calamities would sweep through the ocean region and that it would take over a year to seize the bandits completely. We felt shamefully the need to enact virtue and righteousness; to ponder about it and to make plans was the order of the day. The Min province is the protection belt from the Southern Ocean, and the subordinated outer prefecture is called Taiyuan. 35 36 37 Strictly spoken they belong to two different Tang rhyme categories (xian ‫ ݾ‬and xian ԏ). Quoted after: Yuzhi shiji wuji ᗗ 㼳 䂟 䳼 ӊ 䳼 , juan 36, f. 20b–39a. Wenyuange Siku Quanshu dianzi ban ᮽ␫䯙഑ᓡ‫ޞ‬ᴮ䴱ᆆ⡾, CD-ROM edition (Hongkong: Dizhi wenhua, Zhongwen daxue, 1999). Here the character ᒩ should be read pián, in order to preserve the rhyme. Taiwan in early Qing Chinese poetry 129 In the beginning it was dangerous territory, where thugs would hide in the bushes. Then it was occupied by the Dutch and there was a dangerous situation on the waters.38 The prophecy came true and the heroes arose, however the island was occupied; but in the end the war ended, the beast was shot and finally the sea became calm again. For one hundred and five years one could observe the Dipper rotating in the heavens, and the three stars governed by a single one would follow their path.39 The soil was rich and the harvest copious, millet and sugar cane grew in abundance; ordinary and wicked people increased in numbers, and they grew like ants and locusts. They harboured evil, propagated rudeness and gained supporters by blackmailing; people would join the fruitless endeavour and the dogs would follow in the vain hope to become immortal. The reed ash in the pipes would move40 and the flagpoles would be erected; the message arrived when at year-end the snow covered the winter barley. How stupid is somebody, who dares to do such things; you can already foresee what will happen before it happens. [....] I lessened the taxes and duties and thus did a favour; the rebellious people and the disobedient clerks regretted their former errors. I recite these parallel verses to remember the errors and not the joy, to remember how the power of the country is spread and propagated over ten thousand miles. Let us first return to the question just asked about the order of the composition of these lines. We observe that the beginning lines attributed to the emperor speak about the outbreak of the recent crisis, but the reply by Wang Jie jumps back to the early history of Taiwan. In line 10b it seems that the emperor is answering to the line 10a, but his verse would also match perfectly his previous words from line 2a. In other words, when removing the contribution by Wang Jie, the remaining lines also make perfect sense and are even in the correct chronologial order. Whether this really means that the lines by Wang Jie were added later is, however, hard to determine. The role assigned by the Qing court to Taiwan in the geographical context of East Asia is quite revealing. We read that Taiwan is nothing more than an appendix to Min 䯟 (Fujian), which itself is just the protection belt from the dangers of the southern oceans. This shows the low status Taiwan has for Qianlong. It is basically only important for strategic reasons, but not seen as part of China proper. In the introduction (tiyao ᨆ㾷) to the Qinding pingding Taiwan jilüe we read a brief history of Taiwan that puts this poem in historical context. Just like in the poem, we read about Taiwan being a remote outer island that never has been a part 38 39 40 Literary: “Kites would fall down from the sky”. The commentary says that this refers to the single prefecture (fu ᓒ) in Taiwan, with three subprefectures (xian 㑙) attached to it. This metaphor is indicating the beginning of a new season. 130 Christian Soffel of Chinese territory (zi gu bu ru bantu 㠠ਚу‫ޛ‬⡾ൌ), but has strategic importance to shield Min and Yue ㋫ (modern Fujian and Guangdong) from outside. It is well known that the Qing Emperor Kangxi ᓭ⟏ (1654–1722, reg. 1661– 1722) did not deem Taiwan to be part of China and was hesitating to incorporate it into the Qing Empire.41 But we see here clearly that these reservations were still as influential during Qianlong’s rule. The last verses of the poem are also typical. After Qianlong’s deeds have been embellished extensively in the previous lines without concealing his claim to absolute power, he eventually states that the main goal of this piece of literature is to remember the erroneous ways of the rebels. Cruel suppression of dissidents on the one hand, paired with sorrow and benevolence towards his subjects on the other hand – this contrast is archetypal for Emperor Qianlong’s mannerism and shows his paradoxical personality.42 Conclusion Even though in this paper I could only introduce a very small selection of traditional poetry on Taiwan, it became obvious that the topos “Taiwan” is present in a very broad range of works, including pieces from lesser government officials, military advisors and even the Qing emperors. Used as historical source, poetry definitely gives us insight into the different layers of society, ranging from laid-back lower officials to the highest ranks of aristocracy, and can provide interesting background information. However, poems are generally written in rather ambiguous language, which makes it often somewhat difficult to extract historical facts from the available material. It should also be noted that – at least in early times – there was almost no poetry written by the locals in Taiwan. This kind of literature only started to flourish from the nineteenth century onwards. Even the works from the seventeenth and eighteenth century show only a very low level of enthusiasm. We can find a lot of verses dealing with negative feelings (including bad weather, typhoons, earthquakes, rebellions, poverty, famine, problems with indigenes, homesickness and so on). This tendency is of course not only to be explained by the hardships the first Chinese settlers encountered, but also by the fact that the early poets were born on the mainland and were not accustomed to the life on the island. Consequently information on trade activities is also rather scarce, since the intellectuals were in general busy with other activities, be it governmental duties or leisure pursuits. The poetry by Emperor Qianlong is no exception here. His verses were created with the help of his servants in order to embellish his military achievements and to 41 See for example Itoh Kiyoshi, op. cit., pp. 54–55. 42 For Qianlong’s character see also Woodside, Alexander, “The Ch’ien-lung Reign”, in: Peterson, Willard J. (ed.), The Cambridge History of China – Volume 9 Part One: The Ch’ing Empire to 1800. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002), pp. 230–309. I, in particular pp. 231–235. Taiwan in early Qing Chinese poetry 131 propagate imperial splendour, and he does not show much interest in the cultural peculiarities of Taiwan. It is obviously quite impossible to find a common denominator of all this diverse material. But we should note that the various collections of Taiwanese poetry all are a product of the twentieth century or later, and they all have been created retroperspectively, mostly influenced by a consciousness of Taiwanese local culture that did not exist among the literati during the first half of the Qing dynasty. BIBLIOGRAPHY Sources Li Yushu ᶄ┷ਊ, San Tai shi zhuan п㠰䂟۩. (Taibei: Xuehai chubanshe, 1976). Lian Heng 䙙₡, Taiwan shisheng 㠰⚙䂟Ҏ. (Taibei: Wenhai chubanshe, 1978). Quan Tai shi bianji xiaozu ‫ޞ‬㠰䂟㐞䕥ቅ㍺ (ed.), Quan Tai shi ‫ޞ‬㠰䂟. (Tainan: Guojia Taiwan wenxueguan, 2004), 5 vols. Wenyuange Siku quanshu dianzi ban ᮽ␫䯙഑ᓡ‫ޞ‬ᴮ䴱ᆆ⡾, CD-ROM edition (Hongkong: Dizhi wenhua, Zhongwen daxue, 1999). Yang Zhichu ᾀ⴪⸍ (ed.), Taishi sanbai shou ਦ䂟пⲴ俌. (Taibei: Dunli chubanshe, 2003). Zhongguo shehui kexueyuan wenxue yanjiusuo ѣു⽴ᴹ〇ᆮ䲘ᮽᆮ⹊ガᡶ (ed.), Taiwan aiguo shijian ਦ⚙ᝑു䂟䪈. (Beijing: Beijing chubanshe, 2000). Secondary Literature Barnstone, Tony, Chou Ping (ed.), The Anchor Book of Chinese Poetry. (New York: Anchor Books, 2005). Chen Jiahuang 䲩ᇬ➂, “Lun Sun Yuanheng ji qi Chikan ji 䄌ᆡ‫ݹ‬㺗਀ެɅ䎚ᎂ䳼Ɇ”, Hanxue yanjiu ╘ᆮ⹊ガ 23:2 (2005.12), pp. 289–320. Chen Yixiong 䲩䙮䳺, Lin Zhuangsheng ᷍㧀⭕ (trsl.), “Taiwan xin wenxue yundong daolun 㠰⚙᯦ᮽᆮ䚁ऋቄ䄌”, Wenxue Taiwan ᮽᆮ㠰⚙ 36 (2000.10), pp. 41–54. Chen Zhaoying 䲩ᱣ㤧, Taiwan shi xuanzhu ਦ⚙䂟䚮⌞. (Taibei: Zhengzhong, 1996). Deng Shuping 䝝␇㱁, “Yisilan di qipa – Diao you Qianlong yuzhi shi di Hendusitan yuqi Հᯥ㱣Ⲻཽ㪟 – 䴋ᴿҴ䲼ᗗ㼳䂟ⲺⰋ䜳ᯥග⦿ಞ”, Gugong wenwu yuekan ᭻ᇤᮽ⢟ ᴾࡀ 75 (1989.6), pp. 92–111. Guo Guoliu 䜣᷒‫ޣ‬, “Taiwan di Qianlong yuzhi shiwen bei 㠰⚙ⲺҴ䲼ᗗ㼳䂟ᮽ⻇”, Lishi yuekan ↭ਨᴾࡀ 119 (1997.12), pp. 16–22. Hummel, Arthur W. (ed.), Eminent Chinese of the Ch’ing Period (1644–1912). (Washington: United States Government Printing Office, 1943). Idema, W. L., Spiegel van de Klassieke Chinese Poëzie. (Amsterdam: Meulenhoff, 19935 [1991]). Itoh Kiyoshi Հ㰚▊, Chen, Walter 䲩≪㷰 (trsl.), History of Taiwan. (Taibei: Avanguard Publishing House, 2004). Lai T. C., Kwong Y. T., Chinese Poetry. (Hong Kong: Swindon Book Company, 1972). Liao Yijin ᔌж⪴, Taiwan shi shi 㠰⚙䂟ਨ. (Taibei: Wenshizhe chubanshe, 1998). Liu Wu-chi, Lo Irving Yucheng, Sunflower Splendor – Three Thousand Years of Chinese Poetry. (Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 1975). 132 Christian Soffel Mote, F. W., Imperial China 900–1800. (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 20032 [1999]). Watson, Burton, The Columbia Book of Chinese Poetry. (New York: Columbia University Press, 1984). Woodside, Alexander, “The Ch’ien-lung Reign”, in Willard J. Peterson (ed.), The Cambridge History of China – Volume 9 Part One: The Ch’ing Empire to 1800. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002), pp. 230–309. Yip, Wai-lim, Chinese Poetry – An Anthology of Major Modes and Genres. (Durham and London: Duke University Press, 1997). Zhuang Lian 㧀㐪, “Qianlong huangdi di yuzhi shi Ҵ䲼ⲽᑓⲺᗗ㼳䂟”, Zhonghua wenhua fuxing yuekan ѣ㨥ᮽौᗟ㠾ᴾࡀ 13:3 (1980.3), pp. 71–75. 

Harrassowitz East Asian Economic and Socio-cultural Studies Taiwan – A Bridge Between the East and South China Seas 東 亞 經 濟 與 社會文化 論 叢 EAMH 11 www.harrassowitz-verlag.de East Asian Maritime History 11 Angela Schottenhammer (Ed.) Taiwan – A Bridge Between the East and South China Seas Harrassowitz Verlag