The Birth Date of Camões and the Eclipse of Science and Literature

The Mother of many waters, the Moon, standing between the Sun and the Earth, hindered the way of the light to the place where a woman was about to give birth to the Portuguese Bard, Luís Vaz de Camões (1524-1580). In the lunar shadow of the 23rd of January 1524, these luminaries aligned, a solar eclipse drew an astonishing ring of fire in the dim heavens, and Camões took his first breath on the planet he came to sing so remarkably. Unaware of the crown of literary glory that History of Literature would place upon him, given his eventful and somewhat star-crossed life, Camões wrote a biographical sonnet where the solar corona of this eclipse cast a darkness over him since the day he was born:

“Let the day I was born die and be gone
Forever from all time that is or was.
Let it never return or, if it does,
Let an eclipse bear down upon the sun.

Let it black out and light go on the run,
The world show signs of being about to die,
And monsters spawn and blood rain from the sky,
And mother be a stranger to her son.

Then let the people, ignorant and dazed,
Face pale in tears, ghastliness in the heart,
Reckon the world already come apart.

O timid creatures, do not be amazed
That this day of all days beheld the birth
Of the most cursèd wretch upon the earth.”

This mysterious day of light and shadow was elusive until Luciano Pereira da Silva’s historiographical gesture of searching for Camões’ specific date of birth in scientific early modern artifacts. In A Astronomia d’ Os Lusíadas (1915), Silva used early modern astronomical tables – such as those in the Almanach Perpetuum (1496), by Abraham Zacuto, and Cosmographia (1524), by Petrus Apianus – to unravel this biographical mystery. By listing the apparent positions of celestial bodies in the heavens at regular intervals, and the dates corresponding to the calculated positions of these bodies, these texts allowed astronomers to track the movements of the Sun, Moon, and planets over time, and predict celestial events such as eclipses. By crossing the information in these texts with a hermeneutic analysis of the sonnet, these texts allow historians to answer old questions such as the date of birth of Camões.

Placing the gaze of historians of science on the flickering interstice between science and literature, the conjunct reading of scientific and literary texts gives access to ideas and ways of knowing the world of a given era. Five-hundred years after the birth of Camões, it is no mystery that his opus magnum, Os Lusíadas, displays a poetic image of the scientific idea of the “machine of the world”, the intricate celestial machinery that governs the movements of the heavenly bodies according to the Ptolemaic cosmology that was then accepted. An era when cosmology and poetry were equally good ways of making sense of the universe.

Five-hundred years after, it is time to celebrate the poet, the eclipse, and the historiographical light that shines when science and literature join forces. This longstanding relation between peers is sometimes overshadowed in History, and sometimes distorted by well-meaning but misguided attempts at restoring an essential connection. [Joana Lima]

When the Moon Wanes, Don’t Start Anything

In this post, we delve into a specific voyage undertaken by the ship “São Pantaleão” in 1596, sailing from Kochi to Lisbon, under the skilled guidance of the pilot Gaspar Ferreira Reimão (fl. 1612). With thirty years of experience navigating the India Run and playing various roles, from second pilot to pilot-major, Reimão meticulously recorded daily life aboard his ship, including measurements, annotations about the magnetic needle’s variation, and astronomical observations. One intriguing aspect to explore is the moon’s role during this voyage.

Reimão’s logbook contains references to nearly every phase of the moon, including what is called “conjunção da lua” (conjunction of the moon) in Portuguese. This refers to the moment when sunlight hits only the part of the moon that is hidden from human view (“new moon”). However, it’s worth noting that in the 16th century mariner jargon, the term “conjunction” could refer to any moon phase. Additionally, the phases of the moon were and are perceived differently in the northern and southern hemispheres, a significant factor for a long-distance voyage.

The majority of the pilot’s textual references to the moon had negative connotations, as they often reflected adverse meteorological conditions. For instance, leaving the Maldives on the 28th of January, the weather worsened, and Reimão explicitly attributed it to the new moon’s weakness, leading to relentless heavy rainfall. The pilot used expressions like “we were rotting with water” (“andamos podres com água”), “new moon, bad moon” (“lua nova, má lua”), and “never-ending rainfall” (“tanta infinda chuva”). On February 24th, a month later, while near the Cargados Carajol Shoals (or Saint Brandon) still in the Indian Ocean, the moon’s appearence coincided again with deteriorating weather, characterized by heavy downpours and strong south winds. Near Cape Agulhas on the 20th of March, Reimão encountered what he considered the worst of all possible moon conjunctions, with waning moon, contrary winds, and frequent lightning flashes signaling severe storms (“é quarteirão de minguante… é conjunção [de lua] que eu tenho por pior que todas a que tem a lua”). In the explanation of the phenomena, he did not forget to add that these signs were exactly the same that “mathematicians declare”. Approaching Saint Helena Island in Atlantic waters on the 5th of April, Reimão called the moon “lua chorosa” (“the weeping moon”), associated with atmospheric vapor and westerly winds. The personification of the moon was the beginning of a series of references. The continuous changes in winds and rough seas caused by this moon (“trabalhosa”,“malíssima”, “Lua do Sueste” (Southeast Moon)) brought additional challenges to the navigation. The pilot complained categorically: “This moon has me tired and dead” (“traz-me cansado e morto esta lua”), indicating that the west winds had not changed for twenty-five days, and the southeast winds had not entered; instead, a marine waterspout was produced. Not by chance, the pilot made mention of the presence of wandering albatross (“mangas-de-veludo”), sea birds also known nowadays as storm petrels.

The moon’s influence on navigation compelled pilots like Reimão to wait for the right moon (“esperando a lua que será amanhã”) and favourable travel conditions to continue or begin their voyage. Gaspar Ferreira Reimão’s sailing directions, published in 1612, reveal his navigational experience, including practical reccomendations related to the better moon’s conjunction. The moon’s impact on the voyage of “São Pantaleão” provides valuable insights into oceanic practices and the challenges faced by skilled pilots like Reimão. His numerous references to the moon highlight the richness of maritime technical documents, encompassing climate, global wind patterns, ornithology, tides, astrology, and science at sea, while also resonating with a poweful proverbial cultural heritage. In fact, the timeless Portuguese proverb seems to echo: “When the Moon wanes, don’t start anything” (Quando a Lua minguar, não deves começar). [Luana Giurgevich]

Science on the Verge of Disaster? The 1577-78 Comets and the Astrological Predictions in Europe and Asia

Following up on the previous blogposts on documental surprises awaiting the researcher when visiting archives, we could not fail to report on an unexpected document found in the Vatican Secret Archives, filed under the Nunziatura di Portogallo. The documents in question are part of the correspondence collection of Monsignor Roberto Fontana, who served as the apostolic collector in Portugal between 1577 and 1583. The letters were exchanged between Fontana and Rome during the papacy of Gregory XIII (1572-1585).

Shortly after arriving in Portugal, Monsignor Fontana reported on the illness of Queen Catherine of Austria (1507-1578). In his report, he commented on the Queen’s worsening health and expressed hope for her recovery, despite her advanced age, due to the appearance of a comet that year. Fontana’s mention of the comet is linked to the astrological predictions about the fate of Portuguese King Sebastian (1557-1578) in the upcoming Alcazar-Quibir battle in August 1578, as shown in the following treatise. While astrologers in Portugal and Europe debated whether the comet was a good or bad sign, Fontana believed it was a positive omen for Queen Catherine’s recovery. However, in February 1578, Fontana sadly reported that he had been mistaken as the Queen had passed away.

Catherine of Austria, Queen of Portugal

Now, Monsignor Fontana’s interest in the astrological predictions surrounding comets did not end with the Queen’s death. In 1579, while reporting on the Portuguese empire in Asia, Fontana collected an interesting piece of information about the impact of the 1578 comet in distant India. During the war between Sultan Ali Adil Shah I of Bijapur (1558-1579) and the Portuguese viceroy, D. Luís de Ataíde (1578-1581), the Sultan became concerned about the comet’s significance and asked his astrologers to predict whether it indicated a victory or defeat for him in the war. When the astrologers predicted that the comet foretold his defeat (as indeed happened with the failed conquest of Portuguese Goa in 1578), the Sultan asked for measures to reverse its bad effects. Some suggested that he sacrifice human flesh, while others recommended building a golden comet similar to the one seen that year to be worshiped as a symbol of a new era. In addition, the Sultan was advised to order all men in his kingdom to be circumcised to commemorate the new era. While this document does not describe the outcome of these events, it is known that the Sultan died shortly afterwards.

Ali Adil Shah I of Bijapur

Thus, the bad omens of the 1577 and 1578 comets were confirmed both in Europe and Asia, showing decisively how astrological predictions were regularly practised and widely commented in those days. When it came to making forecasts on important events, astrological science was always called into action as had been happening ever since Antiquity. No Papal order could prevent such an interest, even if it came from a distinguished member of the Papacy, Monsignor Roberto Fontana, who voiced his personal opinions on contemporary events while stationed in Portugal. [Nuno Vila-Santa]