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The working-method of the new cartographers:
The Gulf of Mexico and Spanish sources,
1696-1718
Monique Pelletier
The lands bordering the Gulf of Mexico
attracted the attention of Claude (1644-1720) and Guillaume (1675-1726) Delisle
around 1700, after the voyages of Robert Cavelier de La Salle and at the time
when the French began to establish themselves in the lower Mississippi valley.
This had international consequences, for the Spanish king Philip V protested,
declaring that the Mississippi River was the greatest jewel in his crown. In order to work out the cartography of the
region, the Delisles generally relied on Spanish textual sources, since the
cartographic evidence was both lacking in interest and also hard to
obtain. The printed work of Guillaume
is well known, but the more abundant manuscript work of the Delisles, father and
son, has been less studied, even if it has been listed and cited by researchers
like Jack Jackson and Nelson-Martin Dawson.
The cartographic collection belonging to
the “Fonds Delisle” at the Archives nationales de France in Paris contains both
geographical sketches, relating to texts coming from the Delisles’ reading, and
also maps, drawn up by Guillaume. For
the lands surrounding the Gulf of Mexico, the maps show both the development of
the cartographer’s ideas and his hesitancy, while the sketches rely on the
content of those sixteenth- and seventeenth-century Spanish works translated
into French: the travel narrative of
Hernando de Soto for Florida (the future Louisiana), and the works of Alonso
Benavides for New Mexico and of Antonio de Herrera for New Spain. We can trace the delicate mixture of textual
and cartographic sources by seeing how the sketches were incorporated into the maps, with the additional use of a
Spanish portolan chart. This process
cannot be seen apart from the aims and development of the colonial policy of
the French monarchy, which also supplied information to the cartographers.
Guillaume Delisle published maps of
America from 1700 onwards. At that time
he had not yet been elected to the “Académie royale des Sciences,” but he would
be in 1702 as a student of astronomy, “even though he was not an
observer.” In fact, he had received a
joint training: one type with his father Claude, the historian/geographer for
whom he prepared maps and globes, and another with Jean-Dominique Cassini, who
taught him astronomy. It was
necessarily the latter who persuaded him to use the figures of latitude and
longitude set out by the Académie des Sciences, to compile documents which
would renew French cartography.
A recent work1 refers to the Delisles as continuing the
work of Nicolas Sanson, which is true as far as their pedagogical effort is
concerned, but which is more debatable as far as method goes. For while Sanson used existing cartographic
models, which he developed further using textual information, the Delisles
began by considering the validity of the models, renewing them by incorporating
new observations. When such observations were lacking, they did not neglect any
other source of information, whether old or new, but tried to work out new
cartographic models using available texts.
Nicolas Sanson had already used textual information, following a system
that he may have passed on to Claude Delisle,2 and that may emerge from the cartographic
sketches that we are going to consider.
The examples shown here will demonstrate the method followed by the
Delisles, whose printed maps give only a faint idea of their intense activity
in re-working their cartographic ideas.
They were very different from the Sanson dynasty, who produced a great
number of varied printed maps, but did not often review them.
From Florida to Louisiana
The Delisles, like other French
cartographers, wondered where they should plot the mouth of the Mississippi
River, reached in 1682 by Robert Cavelier de La Salle. He had come right down the great river, and
in the name of the king of France had
taken possession of a “Louisiana” stretching from the Ohio River to the
Gulf of Mexico and, to the west, as far as the mouth of the “Rivière des
Palmes”, that is to say as far as the frontier of New Spain. This is what is shown on the map by Roussel
which accompanied the Description de la
Louisiane published in 1683 by Father Louis Hennepin, who claimed himself
to have discovered the upper valley of the Mississippi River (fig. 1).
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Figure 1. Part of the Roussel map from the Description de la
Louisianne of Louis Hennepin (1683)
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The region called “Louisiana” by La Salle
would interest Louis XIV if it were near the Spanish mines of New Mexico, as
the explorer seems to think. This
proximity links up with the ideas of abbé Claude Bernou who, even before La
Salle’s voyage, had in January 1682 sent to the marquis de Seignelay (Colbert’s
son), a plan for colonization from the mouth of the Rio Bravo—on the coast of
what he still calls “Florida”—towards the silver, gold and lead mines of Nova
Biscaya.3 These toponyms—Florida, Nova Biscaya and Rio
Bravo—appear on the splendid map attributed to Bernou, who restricted the name
“Louisiana” to that part of the Mississippi River explored before 1682.4 La
Salle’s second voyage, of 1684, ended tragically in 1687 without having found
the mouth of the great river. French
exploration of Louisiana resumed after the peace of Ryswick in 1697, under the
patronage of the naval minister, Louis de Pontchartrain. He appointed Pierre Le Moyne d’Iberville
head of a new expedition which, working along the coast, detected the mouth of
the Mississippi River on 3 March 1699.5
This was the situation when Claude Delisle
published in Le Journal des Savans
for 17 May 1700 a letter to M. de Cassini concerning the mouth of the
Mississippi (“Lettre […] à M. de Cassini sur l’embouchure de la riviere de
Mississipi”). This letter is well
known, and sets out the near impossibility of locating the position of the
mouth with precision, because astronomical methods – observing the eclipses of
the satellites of Jupiter or of the moon – could not have been used and because
the coast of Florida is one “of the least known in America” (“des moins conües
de l’Amerique”). So Claude Delisle
compiled his map of the coast and interior of Florida (“carte de l’intérieur et
de le côte de Floride”) using well-known travel accounts which had been both
published and often translated into French.
Thus he quoted the expeditions of Pánfilo de Narváez (c. 1460-1529), of
Alvar Nuñez Cabeza de Vaca and of Hernando de Soto (1500-1542), emphasizing the
difficulty of using textual sources for cartographic work.
In fact, some of these sources are
difficult to use, as the travel accounts of Hernando de Soto show.6
The one compiled by Garcilaso de la Vega (1539-1616) is more literary
than precise, and it is the one written by a Portuguese gentleman from Elvas,
published at Evora (Portugal) in 1557 and translated into French in 1685,7 that the Delisles seem to prefer.8
They made a summary of it, and drew sketches carefully following the
Portuguese gentleman’s instructions9 (fig. 2), the result of which is far from
satisfactory.
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Figure 2. Part of Hernando de Soto's itinerary from the
sketch made by Claude and Guillaume Delisle according to the account of
the Portuguese gentleman (1557) (Archives Nationales, Paris)
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Also, in order to work out the various
stops made by de Soto that are shown on the manuscript 1696 map of New France
and neighboring countries10 (fig. 3), Guillaume combined the Portuguese
gentleman’s toponymy with information on directions and distances from the
account of Garcilaso de la Vega. One
of the main points at issue was the exact position of Ucita, from which the
expedition had set out. The first
sketches put it on a bay of the northern coast of the Gulf of Mexico, between
the Florida peninsula and the mouth of the Mississippi. The manuscript map of 1696 has two bays “of
Saint-Esprit”; one of them, called the “Baye du St Esprit ou Tacobago,” is on
the western coast of the Florida peninsula and was thought to be de Soto’s
base. Another manuscript map, which in
its coastal outlines resembles Guillaume
Delisle’s Amerique Septentrionale
of 1700, suggests a more northerly point of departure, to the northwest of the
same peninsula (fig. 4).
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Figure 3. The itinerary of Hernando de Soto on the
manuscript map by Guillaume Delisle covering New France and the
neighbouring territory (1896) (Archives Nationales, Paris)
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Figure 4. The itinerary of Hernando de Soto on a
manuscript map of North America by Guillaume Delisle (c. 1700) (Archives
Nationales, Paris)
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Finally, the cartographer came back in
1718 to his interpretation of 1696. He
also had to relate the explorer’s itinerary to the hydrography of the region,
and particularly to the Mississippi River.
On the 1696 map, then, Delisle could put in little sections of the rivers
crossed by de Soto, but he clearly could not draw the rivers fully. The manuscript map drawn about 1700 was more
carefully prepared, perhaps for Jérôme de Phélypeaux, comte de Pontchartrain,
naval secretary of state between 1699 and 1715. On it, Delisle retained the “mer de l’ouest”, kept the name
“Loüisiane” alongside the Mississippi River—a name which would disappear from
the map of 1700—and made it exist together with that of “Floride,” above the
Gulf coast.
The itinerary of Hernando de Soto may also
be seen on the Carte de la Louisiane et
du cours du Mississippi, published by Delisle in 1718. It is the map of a greater Louisiane
containing the most recent travels, those of Cavelier de La Salle (1687), of
Henri de Tonty (1702), of Louis Juchereau de Saint-Denis (1713 and 1716), and
of Jean-Baptiste Le Moyne de Bienville.
As on the map of 1696, de Soto is shown as leaving from the west coast
of the Florida peninsula (at a latitude about that of Cape Canaveral) and
following a track—close to that suggested by Delisle’s first version—whose
stops are marked by stars. From there
on, the explorer’s route is inserted on a more complete map that included the
course of several rivers. Thus, it no
longer serves to construct the map, but rather to give the document a
historical foundation.

Figure 5. Florida and New Mexico on the Carte due
Mexique et de la Floride published by Guillaume Delisle in 1703. |

Figure 6. Eastern part of the great manuscript map of the
Mississippi area compiled by Guillaume Delisle about 1703 (Archives
Nationales, Paris). |
Guillaume Delisle emphasized the
importance of the map published in 170311 under the title Carte du Mexique et de la Floride, des terres angloises et des isles
Antilles, du cours et des environs de la riviere de Mississippi (fig.
5). He claimed that a larger-scale
version of this document had been presented at the court, and this is perhaps
the Carte des environs du Mississippi
preserved at the Archives nationales12 (fig.6).
The de Soto travel accounts still appear among the sources for the 1703
map, but Delisle does not put in the itinerary. He suppresses the name “Louisiane,” stretching “Floride” out
between Canada (or “Nouvelle France”) to the north, the English colonies to the
east, and “Nouveau Mexique” to the west.
The published map shows the Spanish establishments on the coast to the
east of the Mississippi: Pensacola,
Saint-Joseph and Sainte-Marie d’Apalache, while only “Apalachicoly” and the
“Apalaches” appear on the large manuscript map. This also contains soundings found as well on Nicolas de Fer’s Partie meridionale de la riviere de
Missisipi, published in 1718 on the basis of Delisle’s map of 1703.13
None of these maps shows the fort of Mobile, whose construction had all
the same been hurried forward by Le Moyne d’Iberville in 1701. As he shows only the fort of Biloxi (1699)
and that of Missisippi (1700), Delisle must have relied on the account of
d’Iberville’s second voyage during which the explorer made soundings at the
entrance to the Spanish port of Pensacola and in Mobile Bay. It was also during this voyage that Charles
Le Sueur delineated the course of the Mississippi River, a version that was
used by Delisle for compiling his Carte
de la riviere de Missisipi of 1702,14 which has remained manuscript, and for
inserting the river on the great manuscript map now conserved at the Archives
nationales.
The position of official cartographers
like the Delisles allowed them access to confidential documents. Thus Guillaume Delisle claimed that for his
1703 map he used a portolan chart that he does not identify, but that I believe
I have found in the “Service hydrographique” documents now held in the
department of maps and plans at the Bibliothèque nationale de France.15 If
I am correct, the author of this document was the Spanish pilot Juan Bisente
del Campo, and it was compiled at Havana and dedicated to admiral Guillermo
Morphi in 1696.16 Bisente had drawn another chart covering
the same area at Cartagena in November 1700, and this document also ended up in
France.17 The 1696 chart may have been captured from
the Spaniards in 1697 by the royal ship Le
Bon in the West Indies, and if this is so, then it would have fallen into
the hands of Mr. de Patoulet, the ship’s captain. This at all events is what a note on another manuscript map –
perhaps a copy of the first chart – suggests.18
Another copy19 (fig. 7), more similar to this portolan to which it
explicitly refers, may, in the absence of the original, have been used by
Guillaume Delisle to review the shape of the western coast of the Gulf from the
mouth of the Mississippi River to Yucatan.
This revision could only have been made using either the work of Bisente
or some very similar chart; moreover, either the original or the copy of the
1696 chart must have helped Lemoyne d’Iberville to find the mouth of the great
river in 1699.
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Figure 7. Western part of the manuscript copy of the
portolan chart compiled in 1696 by Juan Bisente (Bibliothèque National
de France)
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“Le Nouveau Mexique”
This area appeared on the 1703 map
alongside Florida. In order to show it
on the previous maps, Guillaume Delisle had already used the account of Alonso Benavides,
published at Madrid in 1630 and translated into French in an edition that came
out at Bruxelles in 1631 under the title of
Requeste remonsrative [sic] au roi
d’Espagne sur la conversion du Nouveau Mexico. This text was also summarized in the collection by Johannes de
Laet published in French at Leyden in 1640.
It allowed Delisle to plot the position of the Indian tribes of Nouveau
Mexique in the positions suggested by Benavides, and to estimate certain distances. On a sketch (fig. 8) the Delisles set out
the geographical position of information derived from the text of the Spanish
Cordelier.20 There is, for instance, the following
passage from de Laet:
Nouvelle Mexique, or at any rate its
capital city, Santa Fé, is situated on the 27th degree of the line to the north [Santa Fé is a little above 35
degrees on the Carte du Mexique of
1703 and at about 37 degrees on the Carte
de la Louisiane of 1718]; you go there from the silver mines of S. Barbara
through the province of the Conchos, which is separated from New Spain by a
river of the same name. Between S.
Barbara and the “riviere del Norte” is about one hundred leagues, full of
danger through the lands of the Tabosos, Tarrahumares, Tepoanes, Tomites, Sumas,
Hanos and other cruel and savage peoples […].
From the riviere del Norte it is also one hundred leagues to Nouvelle
Mexique,21 and here you first meet the Mansos and
Gorretas […]. You come along the
riviere del Norte, where Nouvelle Mexique begins and has one hundred leagues
from Saint Anthonio de Senecu, the first township of the Biroros, as far as the
township of S. Hieronimo in the province of the Taoros.22
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Figure 8. Northern part of the sketch map drawn by Claude
and Guillaume Delisle according to the account of New Mexico by Alonso
Benavides in 1630 (Archives Nationales, Paris)
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The Delisles used this information first
on the manuscript maps23 that preceded the engraved map of 1700. Thus the three manuscript maps and the
engraved map show a zone in the upper valley of the rio del Norte, called also
“Nouveau Mexique”, which illustrates the ideas of Benavides. Based on Santa Fé, created by the Spaniards
at the beginning of the seventeenth century, this region on Guillaume Delisle’s
maps includes as well information derived from another map owned by the
Delisles,24
also used by Vincenzo Coronelli for Louis XIV’s great terrestrial globe.25
This map was called the Carte du
Nouveau Mexique tirée des relations de Mr le comte de Peñalossa qui en a été
gouverneur en 1665, du manuscrit du P. Estevan de Peroa, custode de l’ordre de
saint François dans le même pays et d’autres memoires écrits sur les lieux,
and came from documentation assembled by abbé Claude Bernou.
Bernou, related to Jean Bobé, another
acquaintance of the Delisles,26 is among the people proposed as expert
witnesses in the case for cartographic plagiarism brought against Jean-Baptiste
Nolin.27 The comte de Peñalosa had come to the
attention of the abbé Bernou, who at one time wanted him to lead a colony
proposed for New Biscaya. After being
chased out of Nouveau Mexique by the Inquisition, Peñalosa had successively
offered his services to England and to France, proposing to conquer the north
of the Spanish province, consisting of the lands of Quivira and Thogayo, which
appear on Delisle’s map of 1703. As was
the case for Coronelli, the Delisles seemed to attract adventurers who craved new space, and
thought that cartography could give their projects a certain appeal and make
them attractive to the king and his ministers.
“La Nouvelle Espagne”
The Spanish chart signed by Bisente was
thus used by Guillaume Delisle for delineating the coasts of Nouveau Mexique
and of Nouvelle Espagne towards 1703.
But for the latter great province Delisle could also call on a precious
text: the Description des Indes occidentales of Antonio de Herrera. He had been named historian for the Indies
by Philip II, and after being published at
Madrid in 1601-1605, his work came out at Amsterdam in a French
translation in 1622. Relying on this
text, the Delisles compiled a map called L’audience
de la Nouvelle Gallice et de la Nouvelle Espagne,28 and this was based on a set of distances
which allowed them to form constructional triangles (fig. 9). Herrera provided many figures of distances,
as the following extract, used by Delisle in his preparatory map, shows:
The bishopric of Guaxaca, which takes its
name from the province, also called Antequera, from the city with the cathedral,
between the bishopric of Los Angeles and the bishoprics of Guatemala, contains
125 leagues from one sea to the other on the side of the diocese of Tlascala,
and 60 towards that of Chiapa, and 100 along the coast of the southern sea, and
50 to the coast of the northern sea, including the provinces of upper and lower
Mixteca […]. When the treasurer Alfonse
d’Estrada was governor he settled the town of Saint Alfonse de los Zapotecas,
20 leagues from Antequera towards the north-east.29
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Figure 9. New Galicia on the manuscript map compiled by
Claude and Guillaume Delisle using the Description des Indes
occidentales of Antonio de Herrera (1601 - 1605) (Archives
Nationales, Paris).
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One may also wonder if the Spaniard did
not have one or more maps, much more
detailed than those which accompany his
Description des Indes occidentales, and which were probably based on the
sixteenth-century maps drawn by Juan López de Velasco.30
Delisle unhesitatingly used the information from Herrera in his map of
1703, in addition to the coastal outline derived from Bisente’s chart.
Conclusion
Our examination of three case-studies of
Florida, Nouveau Mexique and Nouvelle Espagne, coming from the Delisle archives,
and analysis of the corresponding maps drawn by Guillaume Delisle, show that
the documentation was always consulted, but that it was differently used for
different maps. Thus the material
concerning the de Soto voyage eventually lost its primary value and became only
of historic interest. On the other
hand, the information generated from Herrera became crucially important when it
was combined with the secret chart captured from the Spaniards. As for information from Benavides and
Peñalosa, it was used to locate Indian tribes and was checked for internal
consistency as this note shows: “the
comte Peñalosa told the abbé Bernou that it was a mistake to put Quivira in the
west of Nouveau Mexique and that it was surely in the east [the solution
adopted by the 1703 map]. Benavides
puts this city in both east and west;
Laet says that he does not have much faith in this Cordelier.”31
The evolution of cartography cannot be
studied apart from the history of the colonial policy directed by the royal
power, which allowed the geographer to collect new information and so to create
new documents for the monarch’s use.
What would have become of Guillaume Delisle’s American work, without the
scientific support of Le Moyne d’Iberville and of Le Sueur, whose expeditions
were a response to the aims expressed
by Louis XIV in 1697? For the king, the
Mississippi is the “one place where you can export the goods of Louisiana,
which His Majesty’s agents discovered
some years ago, and which would be useless to him unless he were master of this
river-mouth.”32
The objective of d’Iberville’s second
voyage was to investigate the
advantages of establishing a colony on the banks of the great river. However, questions about the successor of
Charles II—who would die in 1700—made France prudent and discouraged conflict
with the Spaniards over Pensacola.
Moreover, Louis XIV was interested in trading with the Spanish colonies
in America. In September 1698 he
created the Compagnie de Saint-Domingue, one of whose objects was to organize
interlopers in the trade with Terra Firma.
Once Louis XIV’s grandson had ascended the Spanish throne in 1700 with
the title of Philip V, the former governor of Saint-Domingue, Jean Ducasse,
negotiated with the Madrid government the treaty known as the Asiento, concerning the importation of
slaves into French and Spanish America.
Thereafter he collaborated with Spain by ensuring the security of its
galleons. Then in 1701 Louis XIV made
the colony on the lower Mississippi independent of New France. All these events and objectives may be
traced on the Carte du Mexique et de la
Floride of 1703, which traces the frontiers of Florida, defines the Spanish
possessions and does not forget to show the division of Saint-Domingue between
France and Spain. This is the island
from which French expeditions into the Gulf left.
Louisiana replaced “la Floride” of the
1703 map as a text of 1712 shows, as the term for a “country at present known
as the government of Louisiana,” but now taking in the Ohio River. Letters-patent empowered the sieur “Crozat
to direct the trade in all our lands between Nouveau Mexique and the English in
the Carolinas […] principally the Saint Louis river, once called Mississippi,
from the mouth up to the Illinois [though not including them] […] with all the
lands […] and the rivers which flow directly or indirectly into this part of
the Saint-Louis river.”33 But Crozat
had been too ambitious and on 6 September 1717 further letters were given to
the Compagnie d’Occident, allotting to it Louisiana, to which Louis XV soon
added “the country of the Illinois.”34
This was the context for Guillaume Delisle’s 1718 Carte de la Louisiane et du cours du Mississippi, published at the
same time as the similar map of Nicolas de Fer, geographer to the king of
Spain. Like Delisle, de Fer took
advantage of the political situation which encouraged the sale of his map,
though it was compiled from old work.
1718 was an important year in Guillaume Delisle’s career. On 24 August he received the title of premier géographe du roi from the king
to whom he and his father had given history and geography lessons. As the citation put it, he had given
“authentic proof” of his “deep erudition” and had published many geographical
works of high quality. Royal favor
would allow him to continue publishing “such useful works.”35 Our examination of a few
examples concerning the Gulf of Mexico suggests that this was a wise
appointment, honoring the father through the son, both having brought to their
joint work on cartography the rigor of historical analysis.
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