Juan De Ovando: Governing the Spanish Empire in the Reign of Philip II

Juan de Ovando

This page intentionally left blank

Juan de Ovando Governing the Spanish Empire in the Reign of Philip II

STAFFORD POOLE

University of Oklahoma Press : Norman

Also by Stafford Poole A History of the Congregation of the Mission, 1625–1843 (Santa Barbara, 1974) Seminary in Crisis (New York, 1965) Pedro Moya de Contreras: Catholic Reform and Royal Power in New Spain, 1571–1591 (Berkeley, Calif., 1987) Our Lady of Guadalupe: Origins and Sources of a Mexican National Symbol, 1531–1797 (Tucson, 1995) Published with the assistance of the Program for Cultural Cooperation between Spain’s Ministry of Education and Culture and United States’ Universities.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Poole, Stafford Juan de Ovando : governing the Spanish Empire in the reign of Philip II / Stafford Poole. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references. ISBN 0–8061–3592–1 (alk. paper) 1. Ovando, Juan de. 2. Spain—History—Philip II, 1556–1598. 3. Statesmen—Spain—Biography. I. Title. DP181.O83P66 2004 946'.043'092—dc22 [B] 2003067165 The paper in this book meets the guidelines for permanence and durability of the Committee on Production Guidelines for Book Longevity of the Council on Library Resources. ∞ Copyright © 2004 by the University of Oklahoma Press, Norman, Publishing Division of the University. All rights reserved. Manufactured in the U.S.A. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

To the memory of my parents Beatrice Hessie Smith and Joseph Outhwaite Poole, Sr.

This page intentionally left blank

Contents

Acknowledgments

ix

1.

The Spain of the Letrados

3

2.

A Provincial First Family

22

3.

The Provisor of Seville

29

4.

The Reform of the University of Alcalá de Henares

56

5.

The Council of the Supreme and General Inquisition

80

6.

An Empire Threatened

98

7.

The Visita of the Council of the Indies

116

8.

The Grand Design

138

9.

The Road to Bankruptcy

162

10.

The King’s Good Servant

189

Appendix: Spanish Coinage of the Sixteenth Century

205

Glossary

207

Notes

215

Bibliography

269

Index

285

This page intentionally left blank

Acknowledgments

T

his book owes its origins, in however convoluted a way, to my doctoral dissertation, “The Indian Problem in the Third Mexican Provincial Council, 1585,” written under the direction of John Francis Bannon, S.J., and Ernest J. Burrus, S.J., two scholars to whom I owe a great debt. My work on the council led to my interest in the archbishop who convoked and presided over it, Pedro Moya de Contreras. From that came my biography of this notable ecclesiastic that was published in 1987. It was, however, impossible to deal with Moya de Contreras without in some way considering his patron, Juan de Ovando. Several conversations with the late José de la Peña Cámara, former director of the Archive of the Indies in Seville, cemented my resolution to learn more about this important though all but unknown minister of Philip II. This research brought me to the realization that Ovando was important, not just in himself, but for what he represented: the rising class of letrados who figured so prominently in the government of Philip II. So it is that Ovando is presented to the reading public. I would like to express my gratitude to the Vincentian Fathers (Padres Paúles) of the central house, Madrid; the Vincentian Community of San Vicente de Paúl, Seville; and the provincial house of Salamanca for their hospitality during my stay in Spain. I also wish to thank the administration and staff of the Archivo Histórico Nacional, Madrid; the Countess of Canilleros, for permission to use her family archive in Cáceres, and Doña Fátima Martín Pedrilla, for guiding me through that archive; Father Evelio Tábara Delgado of the Precious Blood Fathers, archivist of the Casa del Sol,

x

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Cáceres; don Gregorio de Andrés, librarian of the Instituto de Valencia de Don Juan, Madrid; María Teresa Baratech Zalama, director of the Archivo Histórico de Protocolos, Madrid; Javier de Carlos Morales, who shared information on the hacienda real; don Pedro Rubio Moreno, archivist of the archdiocese of Seville; the administration and staff of the Archivo General de Indias, Seville; the administration and staff of the Archivo General de Simancas, Simancas, especially Señorita Isabel Aguirre Landa; Professor Ida Altman of the University of New Orleans, who generously shared her research into the Ovando family; and Professor Kevin Terraciano who gained me access to books that otherwise would have been difficult to consult. I would like to give special thanks to Richard Greenleaf, professor emeritus of Tulane University; the late Professor Woodrow Borah of the Department of History, University of California, Berkeley; and Professor Demetrio Ramos of the Semanario de Estudios Americanos, Valladolid, all of whom helped me to obtain a grant from the Comité Conjunto Hispano Norteamericano para la Cooperación Cultural y Educativa that made it possible to do the research for the book. Acknowledgment is also due to the pioneering studies by a number of major scholars, without whose work this book would not have been completed or even begun. These include Henry Kamen, Geoffrey Parker, and A. W. Lovett. My dependence on their work is apparent throughout. José de la Peña Cámara had a longtime dream that Ovando’s biography would someday be written. In addition to doing pioneer research and writing about Ovando’s career, he encouraged me to follow out this project and guided me to important documents. Without him this work would not have been possible. Last, a word of appreciation is due to the management and staff of the Bar Restaurante Amaya in Madrid, whose good food and warm ambience restored me in body and spirit after hours in unheated archives.

Juan de Ovando

This page intentionally left blank

CHAPTER ONE

The Spain of the Letrados

I

n 1554, in the waning years of the reign of Charles V, there appeared in Spain an anonymously written novella, Lazarillo de Tormes. One of the first picaresque novels, it detailed the story of a wandering homeless boy who served a number of masters and in so doing drew a vivid picture of the underside of Spanish life at the height of the country’s imperial glory. In one of the great scenes in Spanish literature, he becomes a servant to a squire (escudero), a man with pretensions to nobility and status from whom Lazarillo hopes to obtain at least a few good meals.1 It slowly dawns on the boy that the squire has no money and is, in fact, starving. A model of Spanish punctiliousness and honor, the squire is simultaneously ridiculous and pathetic. He is last seen walking down the street to change money he does not have for rent that he will never pay. The Lazarillo is a satire, and many have seen in the squire’s story a picture of Spain itself as it stood precariously on the edge of decline. “We are left wondering,” observed Gerald Brenan, “what strange people these Spaniards are whose pretensions to gentility make them prefer starvation to the ignominy of working.”2 It would be rash to accept this picture uncritically. It is true that in the aftermath of the reconquest of Spain from the Moors (718–1492) and the establishment of the New World empire, many upperclass Spaniards—not just squires but hidalgos, members of the lower nobility—found themselves in straitened conditions. This was particularly true as many from the bourgeoisie purchased titles of nobility and so raised their status. Such a title, however, was no guarantee of income. Where the picture painted in the Lazarillo and Brenan’s conclusion go awry

4

JUAN DE OVANDO

is in the fact that not all of these people preferred starvation to work. The hidalgos proved themselves adaptable to the new times and found another means of social advancement: they entered the Spanish imperial bureaucracy. Like other ambitious young men, they chose the world of the letrados, lawyer–civil servants who proliferated with the bureaucracy and came to dominate it. When Christopher Columbus was received by Fernando and Isabel at Barcelona on his return from the first voyage of discovery in March 1493, neither he nor anyone else present could have foreseen the Spanish empire of sixty years later. Castilian imperial expansion was something unexpected. It was the work of private enterprise, with royal permission, followed by royal intrusion. As geographic knowledge of the newly found areas expanded, and with it the realization that it was indeed a new world to Europeans, so did the conquests. After each conquest came consolidation. And with consolidation came the bureaucrats. At first, the governmental structure of the newly won territories was improvised, based for the most part on Castilian institutions adapted to meet the needs of the frontier. Older forms were changed to meet the demands of expanded rule, and new ones were devised. Because the discovery and subjugation of the Indies belonged by right to Castile, not to the other kingdoms that constituted the polity now known as Spain, the earliest governmental agency was the Royal Council, later known as the Council of Castile. In effect, Queen Isabel ruled the New World through her privy council. In 1503, not long before her death, the queen founded the Casa de Contratación, the equivalent of a board of trade. Its functions were primarily commercial and financial, but it also controlled emigration to the Indies. The dominant voice in colonial matters, however, belonged to Juan Rodríguez de Fonseca, bishop of Burgos, a man whose personal qualities were not on a par with his administrative talent. From 1506 to 1516, when Fernando acted as regent of Castile for his young grandson, the future Charles I (more commonly known as Charles V, from his title, Holy Roman Emperor), the Indies were viewed primarily in terms of exploitation. This view contributed to the extinction of the natives on the Caribbean islands ruled by Spain. As Spanish rule spread to the mainland, it became clear that a new administrative structure was needed. In 1524 Charles V created the Royal and

THE SPAIN OF THE LETRADOS

5

Supreme Council of the Indies, the first of the territorial councils. It served as an advisory body to the king, to be consulted when convenient on all matters relating to Castile’s possessions in the New World; the Casa de Contratación continued to handle routine financial affairs. As the bureaucracy expanded to meet the needs of the New World, it also underwent an evolution in the Old. In the early years of Charles’s reign (1516–56), Spain was viewed by the Flemish monarch and his northern European advisers as an appendage to what was to be a larger empire, embracing the Holy Roman Empire, the Low Countries, and parts of Italy. The Spanish reaction, peninsular and localized, was a series of revolts centered in some of the urban districts and hence called the comunero revolts (1517–22). When these had been subdued, Charles was wise enough to adjust himself to Spanish sensitivities. As he grew older, he became more Hispanicized. So did the civil service. Though his son, Philip II (1556–98), is often styled king of Spain, and he thought of himself as such, his was not a unified state, nor was he an absolute monarch. The various kingdoms on the Iberian Peninsula had their own financial regulations, currencies, and customs barriers. As John Lynch observed, Fernando and Isabel gave Spain a common government but not a common administration.3 The king’s rule varied in structure and power from kingdom to kingdom, city to city. Powerful blocs, such as the clergy or the old nobility, acted as checks on his authority. Philip’s power over Aragon was far more attenuated than it was over Castile. The various states were united only in the person of the king. His rule actually was based on two contrasting theories of government. One was medieval in origin and was at least implicitly constitutional. Spain was viewed as comprising a number of kingdoms (reinos), which in turn were composed of city-states (comunidades), each with its own charter of liberties (fueros). In each the king ruled in a different way as enunciated in the fueros. This concept of the reino and the comunidad remained strong in the sixteenth century, and correspondents were wont to refer to “ese corte” and “este corte,” meaning Spain or the New World depending on where the writer was located. At the same time a newer ideology was emerging, that of the nation-state, with the king as the center of unity, a centralized and increasingly complex bureaucracy, a fixed capital (in contrast to the peripatetic habits of previous rulers), and all the apparatus of a modern state. It was this second concept that was embraced by the rising class of bureaucrats called letrados.

6

JUAN DE OVANDO

Despite the changes, the medieval concept of the king as the dispenser of justice to his vassals or as first among equals remained strong.4 Though the king ruled for and under God, he did not rule by divine right. Castilian kings were not anointed or crowned, nor did they amass crown jewels.5 Their portraits showed them in military or civilian dress, not the silks and ermines of the French Bourbons. They did not use the “We” of majesty but the simple “I.” Later in his reign Philip II abandoned the honorific address Sacra Católica Real Majestad (Sacred Catholic Royal Majesty) in favor of the older Señor, for which he was lavishly congratulated by Gerónimo de Mendieta, the famed missionary and chronicler. Spanish government and society were a composite of corporate and special interests, all of which looked to the king as their supreme arbiter. The policy of the Habsburgs was to balance one group against another, with the king as the final arbiter. This accounts for the fact that royal policies often vacillated, first favoring one interest, then another, without concern for the contradictions involved. No one group, faction, or person was allowed to become dominant, at least not for long. Philip administered his kingdoms through a series of councils whose number grew from eleven to fourteen during his reign.6 These were of two kinds: territorial and nonterritorial. First in importance among the territorial councils were the Council of Castile (which was also the supreme judicial court, established in 1480) and the Council of State (1523–24). The latter was concerned primarily with foreign affairs. The other territorial councils were the Indies (1524), Italy (1555), Portugal (1582), Flanders (1588), and Aragon (1494). The Cámara de Castilla (1518) dealt with matters of patronage in Castile, that is, the appointment of bishops and beneficiados (holders of an ecclesiastical office to which an income was attached). It was originally a sort of council within the Council of Castile: its president was the president of that council together with three senior members. It was reorganized in 1588, apparently to receive a greater degree of independence.7 The nonterritorial councils were the Inquisition (1481), Military Orders (1494), the Cruzada (1509), Finance or Hacienda (1523), and War (1524). In addition, there was a Standing Committee on Works and Forests (Junta de Obras y Bosques, 1545).8 All of these councils were purely advisory. In the maze of states and administrations, only the king had access to all information. Individuals were often members of more than one council or could be given entrada (entry) to another council to discuss specific business.

THE SPAIN OF THE LETRADOS

7

In the last half of the sixteenth century, Castile emerged as the paramount force in the Spanish states and the one to which the good of the others was subordinated.9 In territory and population it was the largest kingdom on the Iberian Peninsula. During Philip’s reign, not only did Castile come to dominate the bureaucracy, but the bureaucrats themselves became more Castilianized. The Council of Castile developed into an advisory body for all Spanish affairs, not just for those of one kingdom. In general, the royal ministers and servants at all levels became more parochial and peninsular in their outlook. They were less concerned and less knowledgeable about European and American affairs, and most had no personal experience of the places about which they were giving advice. Councillors all too frequently showed an astounding ignorance of matters in New Spain, Peru, or Flanders. Yet within their narrow spheres, they were often capable, well-educated lawyers. They were the letrados, the “men of letters.” By the mid-sixteenth century the letrados had assumed a corporate identity: they were often from the lower or middle nobility or poorer classes and were trained in law at one of the great universities, dedicated civil servants, or churchmen who spent their lives in the service of the state as much as the church—or rather who regarded service to one as service to the other. They had begun their ascent in the bureaucracy long before the sixteenth century, perhaps as early as the reign of Alfonso XI (1312–50).10 Enrique IV of Castile (1454–74) had ruled that his Royal Council should have at least eight letrados. When that council became the Council of Castile, it was given a majority of letrado members. Fernando and Isabel, known as the Catholic Monarchs, continued the practice and expanded it, so that by 1493 letrados totally controlled the council. They grew in prestige and from 1475 on began to predominate in the ranks of bishops. Those who held doctorates from the Universities of Bologna, Salamanca, and Valladolid (and later Alcalá de Henares) were tax exempt, a privilege that put them on a par with the hidalgos. The letrados were a constantly expanding class, yet paradoxically they tried to remain closed and exclusive, especially through the statutes of purity of blood (limpieza de sangre). In theory, though not always in practice, wisdom was still regarded as residing in persons of cloak and sword (capa y espada), the grandes and títulos who formed the highest ranks of the nobility.11 The nobles had been curbed by the Catholic Monarchs and Charles V, but men like the duke of Alba and the counts of Feria and Chinchón still felt entitled by birth to major

8

JUAN DE OVANDO

roles in the royal service. Hence the royal bureaucracy became divided between those who believed that heredity and ancient bloodlines were the keys to high positions and those who relied on merit. The two groups were natural rivals for power and influence. One result was an enduring hostility. In 1578 the Admiral of Castile fumed, “[T]he king’s government is not a government of justice but of tyranny and vengeance. Everything is in the hands of lowly and vindictive people, many of whose fathers were Comuneros.”12 The conciliar system and the letrados who staffed it gave Spain one of the most efficient civil services in Europe, but this description is relative.13 John Elliot has given a balanced evaluation of it: “In terms of well-developed and professionally run bureaucratic organization, the Spain of Philip II was the most advanced state in sixteenth-century Europe. . . . We all know the defects of this bureaucracy, that it was cumbersome, corrupt, and appallingly slow.”14 Efficiency was hindered by many factors, foremost among them the king’s personality. He demanded that work be carried out in writing rather than orally, with a consequent growth in the quantity of paperwork, a trait that earned him the name el rey papelero (the paper king).15 He was slow to make decisions and sometimes allowed problems to languish in a bureaucratic limbo without any resolution. Philip did not attend council meetings, and councillors were often afraid to express themselves while ignorant of the king’s feelings. At times he would ignore or reverse a council’s recommendations without informing them. He also lacked an understanding of many aspects of government, especially finances. His demand for absolute loyalty and his suspicion of independence, together with an intimidating presence, tended to keep his councilors reticent and afraid to speak openly.16 At times the provincialism of the royal councillors blinded them to the world outside Castile, especially Flanders and the Indies. Another factor was the obsessive distrust that Philip, like most Spanish monarchs, had of his ministers. He rarely allowed any one adviser to have complete access to information on a subject. Counsel was sought from one, then from another, but without the two being put into communication with each other. In this way he not only kept the complete picture to himself but also was able to learn what his ministers thought of each other. Similarly, the letrados, who owed their status to the king, not to birth, served as a useful counterbalance to the grandes. The location of the royal

THE SPAIN OF THE LETRADOS

9

capital in Madrid, with Seville as the gateway to the New World, helped to centralize the bureaucracy, bringing it closer to the king but farther from the country at large. It was the letrados whose skill and dedication helped to counteract the centrifugal forces of the empire and keep it from splintering. Even today, it seems incredible that Spain was able to rule the Indies for almost two and a half centuries without a standing army. One reason for the prominence of the letrados was Philip’s belief that the nobility, with their extended families and clients, brought factionalism into the government.17 Yet the letrados also belonged to bandos, or factions. A common pattern was that a young university graduate would come under the patronage of a powerful secretary and serve a kind of apprenticeship. He, in turn, would become the patron of others, a process that is clearly seen in the careers of Juan de Ovando and Mateo Vázquez de Leca. Cardinal Diego de Espinosa, at the height of his power, kept a list of promising young men, their sponsors, and the offices available to them.18 As a result Castilian government in the sixteenth century was a government by factions. The king was the center from which emanated all favor. This was especially clear in the case of the letrados, who had no independent status or power base.19 The structure of patron-client relationship was founded on personal relationships. These were personal, mutual, dependent, reflecting a vertical social structure. In the late 1550s Charles V’s impending abdication set the stage for a power struggle, as various groups sought to ingratiate themselves with Prince Philip, the future sovereign.20 In the last years of the old reign and the first years of the new, the dominant figures were Fernando de Valdés and the duke of Alba. Valdés, who at one time or another was archbishop of Seville, president of the Royal Council, president of the Council of the Inquisition, and a member of the Cámara de Castilla, emerged as the dominant figure between 1545 and 1547.21 He and his allies had inherited a web of clients and patronage from Charles V’s secretary, Francisco de los Cobos. With Prince Philip’s departure for England in 1554 for his marriage to Mary Tudor and the coming abdication of Charles V, an anti-Valdés group began to coalesce around Philip’s sister Juana, the regent of Castile, and Ruy Gómez de Silva, the future Prince of Eboli, a childhood friend of Philip’s.22 As a result a major struggle broke out for control of the councils in 1554 that would last until about 1560. In taking over the organs of government, the ebolistas first went after the Council of Finance, which was

10

JUAN DE OVANDO

still dominated by former clients of Cobos under the presidency of Juan Vázquez de Molina.23 Aided by Valdés’s own recklessness in dealing with both Charles V and Philip II, they were gradually able to exclude the archbishop and his clients from key positions. The ebolistas had ties to the royal family and included both nobles and letrados. A key member of this faction was Francisco de Eraso, Philip II’s secretary and after 1556 secretary of the Council of Finance. Eraso was widely disliked because of his greed and ambition for power.24 The opposing faction, with Valdés as its chief patron, was more diffuse, and for the most part their principle of unity seems to have been that they were not ebolistas. Alba had briefly joined with Eraso and Eboli, but Eraso, an opportunist, turned against the duke in 1555, and Alba turned to Vázquez de Molina. An albista party now began to emerge in opposition to the ebolistas. This resulted in part from social differences. Gómez de Silva was a Portuguese from a humble background and owed his rise entirely to his close relationship with Philip II. The latter granted Gómez de Silva the title Prince of Eboli in 1559 to enhance his status.25 So influential did the prince become that he was known as “Rey Gómez.” Alba, in contrast, was of the aristocracy and by temperament authoritarian and brusque. Philip did not like him but needed him because of his military abilities. By 1560 the ebolistas were in the ascendancy: Valdés was in disgrace, Vázquez de Molina was in retirement, and Alba was sent to lead the Spanish army in Italy.26 The ascendancy did not last. The year 1565 marked the beginning of change or crisis for the Eboli party. The problems began in the Council of Finance. The hoped-for improvement in the financial situation did not take place, and the crown had to suspend payment on its debts in 1563, the second such suspension in Philip’s reign. Gómez de Silva and his group advocated a policy of accommodation in the Low Countries that was strongly opposed by members of the old nobility, particularly the duke of Alba.27 There was also general discontent in the Cortes, the body representing those cities in Castile that had the right to vote some taxes.28 At the same time Eboli began to slip from royal favor.29 Then in 1565 charges of corruption were lodged against Eraso. These were instigated by Juan de Figueroa, an old enemy of Eraso and president of the Council of Castile. Eraso was found guilty and although not barred completely from government never regained his former influence. The ebolistas tried to cling to

THE SPAIN OF THE LETRADOS

11

power, but they were effectively sidetracked, if only temporarily, by a new generation of letrados. Their leader was Diego de Espinosa, who at this time began to come between Eboli and Philip II.30 His rise was meteoric, and he became the most powerful person in Spanish government in that century, though the precise process by which this came about is not clear.31 In part it may have been an effort by the king to gain mastery over the increasing volume of paperwork and routine business from the councils. The granting of so much power to one man went against Philip’s mode of government, and after Espinosa’s death in 1572 he would never again employ such a powerful minister. The cardinal’s rise also coincided with a marked change in governmental administration between 1565 and 1573: the ascendancy of the letrados, the beginnings of the junta system of ad hoc committees as a means of bypassing the councils, a hard-line policy toward the Flemish rebels and the moriscos, and the imposition of a religious culture based on the reforms of the Council of Trent and the Catholic Reformation.32 This kind of government could be administered by letrados but not by nobles. Espinosa, who had an open disdain for the nobility, placed letrados in key positions. At a later date Juan de Ovando tried to have the king appoint a letrado as viceroy of New Spain, a bold but abortive move to displace the nobility. A peculiar aspect of Espinosa’s ascendancy was that it brought about reconciliation between Eboli and Alba. The great noble families dominated the general councils of government or those concerned with wider empire, such as the Councils of State, War, and Italy. The letrados dominated those councils that were immediately concerned with Castile and that required legal expertise, such as Finance, the Inquisition, and the Indies. With the rise of Espinosa, however, the use of juntas, whose membership the letrados could also control, increased. The nobles were rarely knowledgeable about specific areas, such as finance and the Indies, and so there arose a lack of coordination between the juntas and the councils. José Martínez Millán says that “the system of juntas represented the triumph of personal relations over institutional ones in the exercise of power,” especially because the juntas lacked even the most basic regulations for their functioning.33 The only requisite for their foundation and membership was the will of the monarch. There were other factors at work, however. Because the juntas were easier to control, they could also be more efficient. The persons called to them were expected to be more

12

JUAN DE OVANDO

expert in their fields than the traditional councillors. Also, in these years, several of the councils, such as Finance and the Indies, had come under a shadow because of corruption or incompetence.34 The reign of Philip II was one of almost uninterrupted crises, especially in the area of finance. The entire sixteenth century was a period of financial difficulty for Spain, but under Philip II, the difficulty escalated into crisis. Three times the crown had to suspend payment on its debts, the equivalent of declaring bankruptcy. The bullion that came from the Indies passed through Spain to pay for Habsburg policies outside the peninsula. Most of the financing of the government was in the hands of foreigners. Few of the king’s advisers were equipped by training or knowledge to give proper counsel. Juan de Ovando played a major role in the financial planning of the kingdom, but his role, as will be seen, was somewhat equivocal. Although sixteenth-century Spain was in theory universally Catholic, the religious picture was complex. There was no uniformity of religious practice, at least not before the reforms of the Council of Trent (1545–63). An external allegiance to the established church did not necessarily indicate a high degree of religious literacy or practice. Though the reforms introduced by Fernando and Isabel and carried out by the queen’s confessor, Cardinal Francisco Jiménez de Cisneros, have been credited with cleansing the church and uprooting the abuses that led to religious revolt in other countries, these reforms were in fact rather limited.35 Until the time of the Council of Trent, religious observance seems to have been inconsistent. There is evidence of widespread religious illiteracy and general ignorance of doctrine and prayers, combined with a heavy overlay of superstition.36 There were no formal means of religious instruction outside the home or, for a minority, the schools. Sunday sermons were not a general practice, especially in rural areas where there were relatively few educated priests—if there were any priests at all. Religious practice was largely local in character, centered on devotions to the Virgin Mary and patron saints. The exalted mysticism of Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross existed side by side with superstition and a satisfaction with externals. Pilgrimages, processions, the cult of saints, the celebration of patronal feasts of churches, confraternities, and villages were often the totality of religious observance for many. According to Henry Kamen, the clergy constituted about 1.2 percent of the Spanish population of 1591, a proportion that is not very high. William S.

THE SPAIN OF THE LETRADOS

13

Christian’s figure for that same year, one priest for every forty-two households, seems more realistic.37 As in other parts of Europe at this time, the clergy were unevenly distributed. Whereas urban areas had a surfeit of clergy, rural districts often lacked the most elementary religious ministries. The quality of these priests is more difficult to evaluate. University graduates, of course, were better educated than their nonuniversity counterparts, but they rarely located in rural areas. The only institution in Spain that had as its primary purpose the training of priests was the University of Alcalá de Henares. The colegios mayores (residential colleges) of major universities such as Alcalá, Salamanca, and Valladolid often had a high proportion of clerics whose training was almost monastic in form and tone. They constituted an elite, and many came to hold important bishoprics, though they often dedicated more time to civil government than to their ecclesiastical duties. The Council of Trent, whose decrees were accepted and implemented in the Spanish dominions at an early date, had a profound positive influence.38 The education and spiritual formation of the clergy became a high priority. Although bishops often introduced the Tridentine reforms into their dioceses, many bishops and clerics (such as Ovando) continued to have full-time careers in civil government. The clergy had a fixed place in society and entrance into the priesthood was a gateway to social advancement. For the bishops, whether reformers or not, a principal difficulty was the chapters (cabildos), which often had, or claimed, more power over the administration of the diocese than did the bishops. In addition to diocesan priests, Spain was filled with various kinds of religious orders: Benedictines, Mercedarians, Carthusians, Carmelites, Franciscans, Dominicans, Augustinians, and, later in the century, Jesuits. In general, the reputation of religious priests was superior to that of diocesans. Their spiritual education was more systematic, and their theological education was generally superior. They enjoyed a better reputation as preachers, especially in periodic sermons such as missions or special celebrations. Because the orders were international in their organization, with superiors general and administrative offices in Rome rather than in Spain, they tended to be less subject to the authority of the crown. The crown’s response was an attempt to nationalize the orders, especially by the appointment of commissaries who took over the functions of superiors general within the Spanish dominions.

14

JUAN DE OVANDO

Relations between church and state were governed by the patronato real, a complex series of concessions from the papacy and intrusions by the state that gave the crown sweeping control over the life and administration of the church.39 Without doubt, the strongest element of royal control was the right to nominate, that is, virtually to appoint, bishops and higher ecclesiastical officers. Though less clear and less extensive than it was in the New World, the patronato in Spain was still a potent instrument for dominating an institution that touched every aspect of Spanish life. The Catholic Church in Spain was for the most part independent of the papacy; it looked more to the Escorial than to Rome. Spanish monarchs from Fernando and Isabel to Philip II had achieved the same goal as Henry VIII of England but without the need for formal rupture or schism. In modern thinking, religion in sixteenth-century Spain is inevitably associated with the Spanish Inquisition. In literature, movies, opera, and drama, it has often been depicted as an omnipotent state within a state, intimidating even the monarchs and imposing a stifling orthodoxy on a cowed population.40 Like most human institutions, however, the Inquisition was far from being consistent or uniform. It was complex and uneven, upright and corrupt, religious and secular—an institution whose purpose, mentality, and operation continue to baffle the non-Spanish mind. In part the Inquisition grew out of a need, real or imagined, to control two major ethnic minorities within Spanish society: recent converts from Islam (Moriscos) or Judaism (conversos, confesos, marranos).41 The Moriscos, because of their distinctive language, dress, and culture and their close resemblance to the Arab enemies, were viewed as a threat to a nation that had only recently achieved a semblance of national unity, in part by conquering the kingdom of Granada, the last Moorish stronghold in the Iberian Peninsula. They were also viewed with suspicion by the populace and suffered hostility and persecution. A series of popular revolts in the late sixteenth century, which confirmed the common Spanish prejudice and which were brutally suppressed, led to official attempts to disperse the Morisco population throughout Spain. In 1609 all Moriscos were expelled. They never posed a threat within the structure of Spanish Catholicism, however, for few if any were found in the ranks of the priesthood or the religious orders. The conversos were different. Throughout most of the Middle Ages Jews and Christians lived together in Spain in a form of mutual accommodation called convivencia.42 This

THE SPAIN OF THE LETRADOS

15

meant more than just coexistence; it was the toleration of a minority religion by the majority one.43 It embraced a complex web of social, economic, political, and familial relationships. Convivencia began to erode in the fourteenth century, because of its intrinsic fragility, the strains caused by the reconquest of Christian territory from the Moors, economic rivalry, and the tendency to blame the Jews for poor economic conditions. In 1391 antiSemitic disturbances broke out in Seville and quickly spread to other cities.44 Though these attacks were limited in scope and peace was soon restored, they were harbingers of greater difficulties to come. One result was an increase in conversions that brought large numbers of Jews into the Catholic Church.45 Together with conversos who had entered the church through genuine conviction, they swelled the number of New Christians in Spanish society. In contrast to the Moriscos, who remained isolated by barriers of dress, language, and culture, the conversos advanced rapidly in all sectors of Spanish society, including the church.46 The expulsion of all nonChristian Jews from Spain by the Catholic Monarchs in 1492, which brought a painful choice between conversion or exile, also added to the ranks of the conversos. Thousands of Jews converted to Catholicism in a simple quest for survival. The Spanish state and church found themselves with a large minority of converts whose sincerity often seemed questionable. As the conversos grew in numbers and influence during the fifteenth century, so did anticonverso sentiment. For the most part this animosity was confined to Castile.47 There was widespread suspicion that the conversions were not sincere and that the presence of so many newly converted constituted a threat to Christians.48 In 1449 an anticonverso riot broke out in Toledo, where they were blamed for an oppressive tax. Actually it was a sign of increased tensions arising from political instability in Castile. As a result a statute was passed by the city whereby Christians of Jewish descent were banned from all public and private offices in the city and its jurisdictions.49 In contrast to the spontaneous disturbances in Seville, the anticonverso riots in Toledo and other places were carefully organized. The reason was most probably envy of the wealth and status of the conversos, who were seen as an aggressive and ambitious group, unlike the Jews, who tried to remain inconspicuous.50 Many of the conversos entered the priesthood and the religious orders, either out of sincere enthusiasm for their new faith or as protection against suspicion of crypto-Judaism.

16

JUAN DE OVANDO

The presence of the conversos in Spanish society produced a backlash, and with it came the infamous concept of limpieza de sangre.51 This drew an invidious distinction between “Old Christians” (those without suspect lineage) and “New Christians” (those tainted by the blemish of conversion from Judaism or Islam, even when remote). Despite official church teaching to the contrary, New Christians became the object of systematic discrimination. During the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, even educated Spaniards came to believe that heresy, or any tendency toward heterodoxy, could be passed from generation to generation, in the bloodline. Limpieza de sangre quickly came to mean that an individual’s family tree was uncorrupted by Jewish or Moorish blood or by descent from anyone who had been condemned by the Inquisition. Conversos, in particular, found themselves second-class citizens, a permanently marginalized minority. The concept of limpieza de sangre began to be extended, aided in part by the Inquisition’s investigation and prosecution of Judaizers. Statutes of limpieza de sangre were a systematic effort to exclude conversos from positions in Castilian society. They deprived conversos of their rights as Christians, no matter how sincere their conversion. The statutes multiplied in the sixteenth century, and their strongest support was in the cathedral chapters and the colegios mayores of the major universities.52 Apparently the cathedral chapter of Badajoz was the first to enact a statute, in 1511.53 Four years later the cathedral chapter of Seville adopted a statute that excluded the sons and grandsons of anyone who had been burned or reconciled by the Inquisition.54 It did little more than repeat the common law on the subject—that descendants of heretics to the second generation could not hold positions or benefices “as is contained in the sacred canons.”55 This statute said nothing about racial descent and was probably concerned with the concept of infamy. The next year it was extended to include chaplains. In 1526 the cathedral chapter of Granada excluded the sons and grandsons of penitenciados (those who had been sentenced by the Inquisition) and the newly converted. In 1550 Charles V was asked to decide whether the newly converted included the descendants of Jews and Muslims. He answered that it did not: “Sons and descendants are to be admitted if they are good Christians and capable and competent.”56 It should be noted that at first these statutes were not perpetual; that is, they did not intend the exclusion to be permanent. The most rigid statute, and the one that set the tone for many others, was imposed on the cathedral

THE SPAIN OF THE LETRADOS

17

chapter of Toledo by the rabidly anti-Semitic archbishop Juan Martínez Silíceo (a tutor of the young Philip II) in 1547.57 Beginning with San Bartolomé at Salamanca, the colegios mayores banned conversos from membership and scholarships.58 This statute was the model for that of the Toledo chapter. San Ildefonso at Alcalá followed suit in 1519, but in all probability this was not effectively enforced.59 Except for the school of theology, sentiment at Alcalá was not favorable to anticonverso legislation. This discrimination became more widespread by the mid-sixteenth century, but even then it remained limited in scope. The statutes were a matter of private, not civil or canon, law. The institutions with limpieza de sangre statutes were the Inquisition, the six colegios mayores of Castile, the Military Orders, some universities, several religious orders, a handful of town councils, and the cathedrals of Badajoz, Toledo, Seville, Sigüenza, Córdoba, Jaén, Osma, León, Oviedo, and Valencia.60 On the other hand, conversos were not banned from being pastors, bishops, secretaries to the king, or members of royal councils. And doubtful lineage did not prevent some individuals from attaining high positions in the court of Philip II.61 Though the pretext for the statutes was the preservation of orthodox faith, ecclesiastical organizations other than cathedral chapters were slow to adopt them. For a long time the Inquisition’s attitude was ambiguous.62 Religious orders on the whole were slow to adopt the statutes. One of the earliest to do so was the Hieronymite order in 1495.63 It appears that the Dominicans never had a general exclusion, and there was strong opposition to the statutes within the order.64 The Franciscans had one, but it was inconsistently enforced and received opposition. The Jesuits were the longest holdouts. Ignatius of Loyola refused to exclude conversos, and two of his early associates, Diego Laínez and Juan Alonso de Polanco, were of converso extraction. By the 1570s the pressure for exclusion was growing, in part because some Spanish Jesuits feared that the Society was becoming known as a refuge for conversos. The final exclusion came in 1593. There was opposition to these statutes, both in Spain and in Rome.65 Silíceo’s statute was condemned by the University of Alcalá.66 The city authorities of Toledo opposed it, as did the bishop and clergy of Sigüenza and the Royal Council. In September 1547 Prince Philip suspended it, though he ratified it nine years later, when he was king.67 In 1565 Pope Paul IV refused to approve a more stringent statute for the chapter of Seville.68 Although opposition continued, anticonverso sentiment gained

18

JUAN DE OVANDO

ground in the last half of the sixteenth century. Why? A partial answer may be found in the growing influence of the letrados. Their outlook and attitudes were narrowly Castilian. A large number of them were educated at San Bartolomé (bartolomicos), a bastion of anticonverso sentiment, and their elitism and exclusivity may have added to their desire to keep Castilian administration free of conversos. The controversies over the statutes, however, continued well into the seventeenth century. It would seem that the statutes of limpieza de sangre were racially motivated, but in the last half of the sixteenth century the situation was much more complex. Jean-Pierre Dedieu asserts that being a biological converso was “a true original sin,” one that could not be expunged (imborrable).69 Norman Roth believes that the statutes were strongly racial, the precursor of modern racialist anti-Semitism. According to him, the hatred of the Jews was directed at the people, not the religion, and this carried over to the conversos. Because of official church policy, the “bigots” had to fall back on limpieza de sangre. “Accordingly, it was not that the conversos were not ‘good Christians,’ for in fact everyone knew they were, but that inherent characteristics corrupted them (‘Jewish blood’), and through them would corrupt all of Christian society. The only solution to this imagined threat was, first, the total isolation of conversos in society, and, finally, their complete elimination through the fires of the Inquisition.”70 Even if they were devout enough to escape the Inquisition, they found themselves marginalized for the mere fact of Jewish descent. “Their complete elimination through the fires of the Inquisition” is too strong and simplistic a statement. It ignores the fact that after 1530 “the Inquisition’s prosecution of conversos declined almost everywhere in Spain.”71 There was never a genocidal element in the statutes or in anticonverso prejudice. The racial element was dominant only in the early years of the statutes and inquisitorial persecution.72 By the mid-sixteenth century the letrados’ wholesale embrace of limpieza was as much a matter of self-definition vis-à-vis the nobility, defensiveness, political advancement, and status seeking as it was of racial lineage.73 Hence race alone did not define limpieza de sangre. After the establishment of the Spanish Inquisition it came to include those whose parents or grandparents had been condemned by the Holy Office. It was not just Jewish or Moorish blood that was contaminated; by midcentury it also included ancestors who had been punished by civil justice or who held

THE SPAIN OF THE LETRADOS

19

demeaning occupations (such as public executioner or butcher). Tainted lineage brought with it an automatic infamy that was passed from generation to generation. This concept of infamy was an essential element of limpieza de sangre.74 Race and infamy were components of a larger complex of social, political, and clannish attitudes. By the second half of the sixteenth century there was little danger to Christianity in Castile from the conversos. Statutes of limpieza kept the world of the letrados exclusive even while, paradoxically, their numbers were expanding. They gave these letrados the prestige of a background that was unsullied by blemishes, whether racial, religious, criminal, or even, in some cases, lower working class.75 This untainted background added to the letrados’ standing in their ongoing struggle to supplant the nobility of blood, many of whom had Jewish ancestry, in the upper reaches of Castilian government. Limpieza was the letrados’ answer to the ancient bloodlines of the hereditary nobility. Appearance and perception were as important as the reality. So it was that limpieza de sangre, so closely associated with the world of the letrados, could be manipulated to meet their needs. With the passage of time it became more difficult to uncover converso ancestry. Rich and influential people, such as Mateo Vázquez de Leca, found it easier to employ favorable witnesses and compliant genealogists. Poderoso caballero es don dinero: Don Money is a powerful gentleman. The result was a genre of fanciful genealogies fabricated to assure limpieza.76 It is instructive to look at the origins of some of the men who rose to positions of power under Philip II. Cardinal Diego de Espinosa came from impoverished rural nobility in Old Castile and was twice refused entrance into the prestigious colegio mayor of San Bartolomé at the University of Salamanca. He may well have been of converso extraction. Antonio Pérez was the illegitimate son of a converso cleric who had also been a letrado and royal secretary.77 Benito Arias Montano may also have been of converso origin, though the question is disputed. Juan de Ovando’s father was a poor farmer and the illegitimate son of a local noble. Mateo Vázquez de Leca sprang from origins so murky that they cannot be reconstructed with certainty. In middle age he was obliged to invent a genealogy to account for his background. Yet in 1575 Ovando vetoed the appointment of a cleric as chaplain to the king because of rumors that the man’s lineage was not clean.78 Though Ovando knew for a fact that it was, the rumors were sufficient to prevent the appointment

20

JUAN DE OVANDO

because there could be no suspicion attached to one who served the king so closely. Policy and expediency could and did coexist. Despite its moves against Moriscos and conversos, the Inquisition’s primary function was to ferret out and punish unorthodox doctrines. By the mid-sixteenth century the special targets were anyone suspected of Lutheranism (the global term for any sort of Protestant belief) and the alumbrados, or illuminists. The latter were attracted to a personal, nonorganizational type of religion. Inspired in part by the writings and teachings of the Dutch humanist Desiderius Erasmus (1466?–1536), they looked for a simpler form of religious life, with emphasis on ethical conduct and a direct experience of the divine rather than externals. Early in the century the Erasmian current had come under the suspicion of the Inquisition, but it was not until Fernando de Valdés became Inquisitor General in 1547 that wholesale persecution began. Valdés made use of Ovando to combat the Erasmian and illuminist trends in Seville. By 1560, however, crypto-Jews and heretics were less of a threat, and the Inquisition became more of an instrument of social control and moral discipline.79 The reign of Philip II was crucial in the history of the Spanish empire in the New World. This period is often depicted as one in which exploitation of native labor as a source of wealth for Philip’s foreign policy became fixed in the Indies, a time when the “American reality” triumphed over the humanitarian campaigns of Bartolomé de las Casas and others. “With the accession to the throne of Philip II (1556), however,” writes Benjamin Keen, “the Indianist movement headed by Las Casas began a steep decline. Faced with a desperate financial crisis, Philip undertook to augment the royal revenues from the Indies. . . . [T]he Lascasian reform program was dead.”80 Juan Friede has a similar opinion: “The change in the Crown’s Indian policy, which began with the accession of Philip II, was reflected in innumerable cases, and especially in the growing disinterest of the Council of the Indies in Indian problems.” He bases this in part on the fewer number of cédulas (royal decrees) that dealt with Indian problems and the fact that the Council of the Indies was turning Indian questions over to the civil officials in the Indies. The most significant defeat of the Lascasian movement was the decree of 13 May 1556, which revoked the decree of 1549, which had prohibited new conquests. Although the latter had never been strictly

THE SPAIN OF THE LETRADOS

21

enforced, it had been the most resounding triumph of the Lascasian movement and its revocation signified the end of that movement. . . . The aged Protector of the Indians, the ex-Bishop of Chiapas, saw the collapse of the structure he had built over fifty years of continual struggle in behalf of the Indian. . . . Las Casas was no longer active and dangerous. He was a venerable but quite uninfluential ancient who would not admit defeat.81 Kamen, however, defends Philip as a patron of las Casas and a sovereign sincerely interested in the good of his native subjects.82 Whatever the truth may be, the period of Ovando’s ascendancy in Philip’s government saw an attempt to regularize the situation in the Indies, to bring them more under governmental control, to codify the laws, to facilitate the flow of information in both directions, and to protect the rights of the natives. This study shows that the crown took very seriously its obligations to the natives. The figure of Philip II, both as man and as king, continues to fascinate historians. Complex, enigmatic, a devout Catholic who pursued antipapal policies, warmhearted and cold, ascetic and sensuous, suspicious and indecisive, ruthless and tenderhearted, a fan of jousting and a hater of war, he intrigued his contemporaries as much as he does ours. For a few brief years Ovando played a key role in Philip’s governmental system. He was in the classic mold of the Spanish civil servant of the sixteenth century, a prince of letrados. Yet he has remained almost unknown. Robert Padden, called him “the dominating figure in formulation of all policies of colonial government,” then added, “Very little is known about the personal life of Ovando and his relationship with the crown. Even after he assumed direction of the Council [of the Indies], documentary evidence remains rare, so that in his official capacity he is often shrouded in mystery.”83 This study attempts to shed light on that mystery.

CHAPTER TWO

A Provincial First Family

T

he city of Cáceres is situated in the province of the same name, which together with the province of Badajoz constitutes the region known as Extremadura. Located in the extreme west of Spain, not more than fifty miles as the crow flies from the border with Portugal, it dates from Roman times and probably derives its name from Castra Caesaris (Caesar’s Camp) or Castra Caecilia (Cecilian Camp). It was taken by the Moors during the course of their conquest of Spain (711–18), and they called it Qazris. In the twelfth and thirteen centuries it passed between Moslem and Christian control, until it finally came under Christian rule in 1227. A modern historian describes Extremadura as “[a] province renowned for the harshness of its climate and the poverty of its soil.”1 This picture of an arid, inhospitable land has perhaps been enhanced by the fact that the region was home to many of the conquistadors, including Fernando Cortés and the Pizarro brothers. In fact, in many places it is attractive, with alternating pleasant valleys and low-lying mountains. Much of it is treeless, and though the land is fertile, frequent droughts and irregular rainfall make it more suited to livestock than agriculture. The city of Cáceres is in a hilly area, a little over fifteen hundred feet above sea level. The climate is temperate; the average temperature is fifty degrees Fahrenheit in winter and seventy-five degrees in summer. The old quarter of the city has been remarkably well preserved, and walking through it, especially at night, one is carried back to the sixteenth century.

A PROVINCIAL FIRST FAMILY

23

In that century Cáceres had a population of between 6,300 and 8,500, not large even by the standards of the time.2 The city was strongly linked to the crown of Castile and remained under royal jurisdiction rather than that of a local señor or noble.3 Life was not appreciably different from that of any other provincial city. It centered on agriculture and husbandry, especially sheep but also swine, and as a result great prestige was attached to the ownership of land. The monotony of daily life was relieved by bullfights and religious festivities, such as processions, pilgrimages to local shrines, and the activities of religious confraternities or brotherhoods. There were no theaters. Life was narrowly circumscribed for women, confined for the most part to church, the home, and walking and shopping in the main square. Hunting was important, not only as a sport for the nobility but also as a source of food. Professional hunters went from door to door, selling rabbit, venison, wild boar, and quail. The region was an important wine-producing area, as it is today, and consumption seems to have been high. On the surface, it was a placid, rural, religious life, but it was not easy.4 Hard times in the rural areas, difficulties with local lords, the desire for a better, freer life in a new land—all these things tempted peasant and hidalgo alike to uproot and emigrate. Extremadura provided a disproportionately high percentage of migrants to the New World. The Ovandos were among the first families of Cáceres, although their status had been achieved somewhat later than that of the rest of the provincial nobility. The family belonged to the lowest rung of the nobility, the hidalgos, who in Cáceres constituted what Ida Altman has called “an oligarchy of wealthy families who intermarried, dominated the city council, and monopolized most of the grazing land of the region.”5 The founder of the family fortune for one branch of the Ovandos was Diego de Ovando de Cáceres, who was commonly called the Captain.6 He made his fortune in the late fifteenth century when there were numerous civil wars among the nobles. On the death of King Enrique IV of Castile in 1474 there was no designated successor. A war ensued between two claimants to the throne, both women. At the battle of Toro in 1476, one of these, Isabel, emerged triumphant. The Captain had backed the right side and was richly rewarded. Subsequent generations preserved and augmented the fortune while at the same time assuming posts of power and responsibility in the city. Two of the most famous were a grandson, Frey

24

JUAN DE OVANDO

Nicolás de Ovando, royal governor of the island of Española (1502–9)‚ and a great-grandson, Juan de Ovando, best known for his work as president of the Council of Finance and the Council of the Indies.7 Juan de Ovando was descended from an illegitimate line of the family. The Captain owned property near the small village of Monleón, in the jurisdiction of Salamanca, which on one occasion in the late fifteenth century he visited together with his son, also named Diego de Ovando de Cáceres (d. 1505).8 The son had an affair with a local girl, Elvira Sánchez, daughter of Juan Moreno and Elvira Sánchez and at that time or later wife of one Juan Durán. The affair resulted in a son, Francisco de Ovando.9 Francisco was taken to live with his father, though there is some evidence that the mother either nursed or took care of him. The entire family, from the grandfather down through cousins, acknowledged Francisco as one of them, although there is no indication that he was formally legitimated.10 The paternity was generally known in Cáceres, if only because Francisco bore a strong physical resemblance to his father. Francisco’s father tried to provide for him, which was not easy under Spanish law of that era, for inheritance by bastards was difficult when there were legitimate siblings.11 The former were often encouraged to enter the religious life. In addition, the entailed estates (mayorazgos), which were increasing in number, favored inheritance by the eldest son. Ovando de Cáceres the younger arranged an advantageous marriage between Francisco and Leonor de Aguirre, daughter of Juana Rodríguez and Martín de Aguirre. Aguirre was rich, honored, and perhaps a hidalgo, and because Francisco’s prospects were precarious, it was probably only his father’s influence that caused the marriage to take place.12 Francisco and Leonor had five children. Among them Juan de Ovando. The year of his birth is usually given as 1514; however, in a report to Philip II of 25 March 1575, he clearly stated that he “is approaching sixty,” which makes his date of birth 1515.13 There was an older son, Antonio, and a daughter, Juana, who may have been the one whose dowry used up a large part of the family income. A witness at the investigation into Juan de Ovando’s limpieza de sangre, Sancho de Paredes, age eighty-six, declared that there was another son, also named Juan, who was a student at Salamanca. This was probably a confusion with Juan himself.14 Apparently Francisco had some land that he farmed. By 1546 he was dead, and his family was considered poor, although that term was often used loosely in

A PROVINCIAL FIRST FAMILY

25

that time and place. Leonor de Ovando sold some land, and according to one testimony had 30,000 maravedís at her disposal for herself and all her children, a rather high sum for a poor rural family.15 Beyond this, nothing certain is known about Juan de Ovando or his immediate family before 1545.16 On 28 November 1545 he applied for a scholarship to the colegio mayor of San Bartolomé at the University of Salamanca.17 The investigation into his suitability took place in January 1546. He was found to be of Old Christian stock, that is, without any trace of descent from Jews, Moors, or heretics. Apparently the illegitimacy of his father did not work against him. Later in the century this would have been an obstacle because of doubts about his biological lineage. One of the witnesses stated that Ovando’s mother could give him no more than 12,000 maravedís out of a patrimony of 30,000—the figure that was the definition of poverty in the statutes of San Bartolomé.18 Ovando also met another qualification in that he already had a bachelor’s degree (bachiller), generally a prerequisite for entering a colegio mayor.19 He may already have been a student at Salamanca, but it is also possible that he obtained it from the Colegio de San Pedro, the only school in Cáceres, which had been founded by a local bishop, García de Galarza.20 Also, according to the investigation, he met the other conditions of admission: he was not married, a religious, or a cleric. On 8 July 1547 Ovando entered the colegio mayor of San Bartolomé in the cold and windy city on the plains of Old Castile.21 Juan de Ovando was fortunate indeed. A scholarship in a colegio mayor, especially one as prestigious as San Bartolomé, was almost a guarantee of a future career. A degree in law from one of the universities of Spain, such as Salamanca or Valladolid, enabled a young man with Ovando’s background not just to better himself; he could rise to the highest levels of imperial government. The offshoot of an illegitimate line of a provincial first family would one day be adviser to the king. The colegios mayores were small, semiautonomous communities within the university structure.22 They were modeled on the Colegio Mayor de San Clemente de los Españoles, founded in 1365 by Cardinal Gil de Albornoz at the University of Bologna, which had a large Spanish student body. San Clemente had a limited number of scholarships, an eight-year stay, distinctive dress, and an austere lifestyle, in all of which it was imitated by the colegios mayores of Spain. The distinction between a colegio mayor and a colegio menor was based on the course of studies, the size of the

26

JUAN DE OVANDO

endowment, and the status of the founder. In addition, the rector and officers of a colegio mayor were elected by the scholars rather than appointed by the trustees.23 Initially the purpose of the colegios was to help deserving poor and orphaned students, a mission that San Bartolomé retained throughout much of its history. It has been asserted that no organized teaching took place in the colegios, though tutorial services similar to the repetitores, or coaches, of medieval universities were offered.24 At both Salamanca and Valladolid, however, there were colegios that had endowed chairs distinct from those of the university.25 San Bartolomé was the most prestigious of the four colegios mayores at Salamanca. It was founded in 1401 by Diego de Anaya, archbishop of Seville, though it did not open until 1418.26 Its purpose was to provide for fifteen poor students (later increased to twenty-four) to study in the faculties of theology and canon law, although it came to have a large number of legistas, or specialists in civil law. Until the seventeenth century no one with a patrimony or benefice above 1,500 maravedís could be admitted.27 San Bartolomé had an endowed chair of civil law, which Ovando was to hold for a number of years. Bartolomicos who specialized in canon law were forbidden to take courses in civil law, with the possible exception of one year of study of the Instituta, the textbook of the Corpus Iuris Civilis.28 Admissions standards were exacting. The concept of limpieza de sangre was important, more important, in fact, than at the other colegios. One modern scholar has not hesitated to call it an “obsession” and to link it to a mania for exclusivity.29 The original statutes had not dealt with the question explicitly, stating only that colegiales (fellows) should be descended from “a pure bloodline” (ex puro sanguine procedentes). It is not clear that this meant limpieza de sangre in the later sense of the term.30 Later, perhaps when he revised the statutes in 1435 and 1437, Anaya added a rigid statute that no one of Jewish blood on either side, no matter how remote, could be a colegial or chaplain. He then claimed that it had always been his intention to reject conversos.31 There are no accurate figures on the attrition rate among the colegiales, but one can speculate that it was high. There is no doubt that the bartolomicos considered themselves an elite, no matter how humble their backgrounds.32 The alumni maintained their connections after graduation and formed a kind of “old boy” network through which they advanced one another’s careers. The esprit de corps lasted throughout their lives and contributed to the letrado self-consciousness

A PROVINCIAL FIRST FAMILY

27

and self-definition.33 Ovando, for example, remained involved with Fernando de Valdés, archbishop of Seville and Inquisitor General; Pedro de Alderete, a canon of Seville and nephew of Diego de Alderete, of whom more will be said in chapter 3; Pedro Farfán, oidor (judge) of the audiencia (court) of Mexico and rector of the Royal and Pontifical University in that city; and Francisco Tello de Sandoval and Hernando de Vega, both of whom served as president of the Council of the Indies. The alumni of the colegio mayor of San Bartolomé became so dominant in the imperial bureaucracy in both the Old and New Worlds that there was a saying, “The world is full of bartolomicos” (Lleno está el mundo de bartolomicos). Ovando was twenty-one or twenty-two when he entered San Bartolomé. This was not unusually late as the educational prerequisites were stringent. The minimum age for admission was eighteen, later raised to twenty. Although maximum length of stay was set by statute at eight years, in practice there seems to have been more flexibility.34 The schedule and discipline at San Bartolomé were strict and monastic. On entering, the becario (scholar) took an oath to obey the rules. There were detailed regulations concerning clothing. The distinctive dress of the bartolomicos was a cloak of undyed wool with a hood of the same color.35 During the winter, students rose at 6:00 a.m.; in the summer at 5:00 a.m. Daily mass was mandatory, and those who failed to attend were punished with the deprivation of a meal. Of these, there were two a day.36 Eggs and fish were served on days of abstinence, and there were double portions on feast days. Wine, plentifully diluted with water, was served at each meal. There was reading during the meals, with each colegial taking his assigned turn. Only Latin could be spoken at the colegio, and violations could result in expulsion. A colegial could leave the premises only with the permission of the rector, who assigned a companion, and marrying meant losing his scholarship.37 It is testimony to the enduring nature of these practices that some were still to be found in seminaries and religious houses in the midtwentieth century. By 1551 Ovando had received the degree of licenciado in civil law, which permitted him to teach.38 For some years he was a catedrático (professor) of the Codex, the first part of the Corpus Iuris Civilis, at the colegio. It is not clear whether he had yet become a churchman. None of the entries in the records of the University of Salamanca or San Bartolomé refer to him as cleric or priest.39 He was always called a legista, but that does not rule out

28

JUAN DE OVANDO

his having been a cleric. His future protégé, Pedro Moya de Contreras, who later became archbishop of Mexico, was also a student of civil law at this time.40 There is little that tells us much about Juan de Ovando’s character and outlook during these years. There is room to conjecture that his illegitimacy of his ancestry and his meager prospects gave him the burning ambition that characterized his life. It was an ambition that was not just personal, but was directed toward what he saw as the service of God and king—and the two forms of service were one in his mind. In all probability it gave rise to that demonic passion for work that appears throughout his life. A man who could write dispatches to the king on Easter Sunday afternoon must have been driven indeed. His gifts for organization, planning, and efficiency were not yet manifest. Ovando remained at San Bartolomé until 8 March 1556.41 Through the influence of a fellow bartolomico, Fernando de Valdés, archbishop of Seville and president of the Supreme Council of the Inquisition, Ovando was appointed chief ecclesiastical judge (provisor) and vicar general of Seville.

CHAPTER THREE

The Provisor of Seville

Q

uien no vió Sevilla no vió maravilla: “Whoever has not seen Seville has not seen a marvel.” In 1556 Seville was on its way to becoming the most populous and prosperous city in all of Spain. Its location made it the gateway to the New World, and the presence of the Casa de Contratación enhanced its unique position. Its merchants had a monopoly on trade with the Indies, and it was truly, “a republic of merchants.”1 The city attracted foreigners, including Flemings and Genoese, who came to make their fortune and added a new element to the ethnic mix of Spaniards, Jews, and Moriscos already present. The Genoese were probably the dominant foreign presence, having been in Seville since the thirteenth century. They enjoyed a number of privileges and specialized in trade, banking, and financing expeditions to the New World. In addition, the city was situated in an area rich in olive orchards, vineyards, wheat fields, and orange groves.2 The population tripled between 1534 and 1561, when it reached 95,000.3 The district of Triana, directly across the Guadalquivir River from Seville proper and connected to it by a pontoon bridge, was the most densely populated urban area and the industrial center. Counterbalancing the wealth and burgeoning population were the inevitable setbacks: famine and epidemic (in part the result of poor sanitation) in 1557, drought in 1561.4 Chronic inflation, the negative result of Seville’s commercial success, devalued earning power and brought hardship to many.5 Seville was regarded as an open city, commercially, intellectually, and religiously. Morals were lax enough that it was sometimes called the

30

JUAN DE OVANDO

Castilian Babylon.6 It was a place not only of great commercial achievement but also of cultural and religious ferment, a rich breeding ground for every kind of heterodox belief and teaching. Such a city had to have a center of learning. In 1505 the archdeacon of the cathedral chapter, Rodrigo Fernández de Santaella, more commonly known as Maese Rodrigo, obtained a bull from Pope Julius II that permitted the founding of the Colegio de Santa María de Jesús, which was later raised to university status.7 The instruction and curriculum remained narrowly ecclesiastical, so the university did not share in the cultural and humanistic richness of the surrounding city. It never approached the prestige of the Universities of Salamanca, Valladolid, and Alcalá de Henares. After Toledo, the archdiocese of Seville was the richest in all Spain. In the early part of the century, the city had twenty-seven parish churches and two exempt ecclesiastical jurisdictions.8 The latter were districts of the archdiocese that were the equivalent of parishes but independent of the authority of the archbishop. One of these was San Telmo, also called Marruecos or Morocco. In 1512, when Archbishop Diego de Deza called a provincial council, the suffragan dioceses were Cádiz, Málaga, Silves (Portugal), the Canary Islands, and Morocco. Shortly after this the first dioceses in the New World were created as suffragans. Hence the organization of the archdiocese of Seville was the model for that of the Indies. This was especially true of New Spain (modern Mexico), whose dioceses continued to be suffragan until 1547. Despite the wealth of the archdiocese, the overall religious picture was bleak. There was a general lack of instruction and religious knowledge, which the people tended to blame on the recently converted but relatively small Morisco population.9 In reality, it reflected the level of the clergy. In 1556 Archbishop Fernando de Valdés wrote to Prince Philip that concubinage and gambling were rampant among the clergy, and many of them openly raised families.10 The problems with the clergy were worsened by the fact that throughout the sixteenth century most of the archbishops did not live in their sees. Alonso Manrique (d. 1538) and García de Loaysa (ca. 1480–1546) were both absentees, but they made important, if occasional, visits.11 Valdés, archbishop from 1547 to 1568 and Inquisitor General, began promisingly by making a visit of a year and a half early in his episcopate (1550–51) but after that did not see the city again. He attempted to be a reforming bishop in the style of Trent but did so at a distance. His attempts

THE PROVISOR OF SEVILLE

31

to suppress Erasmian and Lutheran tendencies were viewed by his chapter as maneuvers for power, as in some cases they clearly were, and this led to all-out conflict. A chapter may be defined as an association of clerics of a certain church, a moral and legal body instituted by ecclesiastical authority for the purpose of promoting divine worship by means of choir services, that is, the singing in common of the canonical hours or divine office. Although chapters were originally instituted for this liturgical purpose, by the sixteenth century a cathedral chapter had as its primary function assisting the bishop or archbishop in the administration of the see, with the choir functions secondary. The cathedral chapter of Seville consisted of some forty to forty-two canons, twenty racioneros (who received two-thirds of a canon’s salary but had neither the authority nor the rank of one), twenty medio racioneros (whose salary was one-third that of a canon), and twenty veintineros, or beneficed clerics. In addition to the five higher ranks (dignidades) usually found in a chapter, such as dean (deán), archdeacon (arcediano), treasurer (tesorero), choirmaster (chantre), and schoolmaster (maestrescuelas), there were a number of special titles, such as Archdeacon of Jerez, Archdeacon of Reina, Archdeacon of Niebla, Archdeacon of Carmona, Prior of las Ermitas, and Bishop of Morocco.12 There were at least fifty employees, including lamplighters, bell ringers, silversmiths, gatekeepers, heralds, organists, and musicians and singers. The chapter, then, was a large, self-sufficient, and independent corporate body, whose members had a strong sense of their own importance and were sensitive about questions of jurisdiction and protocol. As in many dioceses, there was a special antagonism between the archbishops and the chapters. The canons of the cathedral chapter of Seville were generally of a high quality because Archbishop Alonso Manrique had awarded many of the positions to professors and students from the University of Alcalá de Henares, the only university in Spain whose primary purpose was the education of good clergy.13 The chapter also had a longstanding humanistic tradition, tinged with Erasmianism. Because of this many saw in Seville a hotbed of crypto-Protestantism from which not even the clergy were exempt. The provisor, or chief ecclesiastical judge, was one source of friction between the archbishop and his chapter. He was often a simple cleric chosen by the archbishop from among his friends or clients,

32

JUAN DE OVANDO

who lacked the status and prestige of a canon but wielded immense power in the absence of the archbishop. After some years of service, a provisor usually became a member of the chapter, something that involved him in a conflict of roles. One archbishop is supposed to have compared his relationship to the chapter to that of Adam to Eve, quae data est ei in adiutorium et versa est in ruinam, who was given to him as his help but turned into his ruin.14 Seville was the first permanent location of the Spanish Inquisition (1480), and the Inquisition of Seville was a particularly important branch of that body. Several of its archbishops were Inquisitors General. The cosmopolitan nature of the city, its openness to influences from outside the peninsula, the large foreign population, and the presence of conversos and Moriscos, offered more than enough reasons for the Holy Office to be vigilant. This vigilance extended to the cathedral chapter. As a result Seville also had a history of anti-Inquisition feelings, especially among the converso members of the cathedral chapter.15 Since 1483 the tribunal had its headquarters in the castle of Triana, the river Guadalquivir, at the point where the Triana bridge now touches the shore. It was Ovando’s membership in the Inquisition that was to cause the first of several conflicts during his stay in Seville.

PROVISOR AND INQUISITOR Fernando de Valdés was born at Salas, in the Asturias, in 1483.16 In 1512 he became a colegial of San Bartolomé at Salamanca and was later made dean of the cathedral chapter of Oviedo and a member of the Suprema, the Supreme Council of the Inquisition. In 1524 he was named bishop of Huelva and in 1539 bishop of Oviedo. He was also president of the Council of Castile. He was named archbishop of Seville and president of the Suprema in 1547 at a rather advanced age. He published a revision of the rules and procedures of the Holy Office and oversaw a revision of the Index of Forbidden Books. Valdés was essentially an ecclesiastical careerist who used his various positions for personal advancement. He tended to favor family members and fellow bartolomicos in appointments to major positions.17 As inquisitor, he was ruthless and exploited the crown’s genuine fear of heretical intrusion as a means of enhancing his own power. A case can be made that Valdés genuinely tried to carry out reforms, but that

THE PROVISOR OF SEVILLE

33

case is weakened by almost twenty years of absenteeism.18 He died at Madrid on 9 December 1568 and was buried in a sumptuous tomb in the cathedral of Oviedo. In general, the verdict of posterity has not been kind.19 Valdés came to Seville in 1550 but left after a little over a year, never to return. He ruled through Ovando, who was appointed provisor on 5 March 1556.20 His authority, at least on paper, was extensive and for all practical purposes gave him the full powers of the archbishop, with the exception of those things limited to a bishop, such as ordination to the priesthood. The appointment made Ovando “provisor general in matters spiritual and temporal” in order that he might judge and give sentence “in all cases and lawsuits whatever, whether concerned with marriage or benefices, civil and criminal of whatever quality or condition they may be, both ecclesiastical and secular.”21 Ovando was given the power to suspend clerics from the exercise of their functions and to impose excommunications and interdicts and to call on the secular arm to enforce them. The appointment included the powers of inquisitor ordinary, that is, the inquisitorial power that belonged to the archbishop by reason of office. He could call synods and provincial councils, give absolution in all cases reserved to the archbishop, name pastors and chaplains for benefices and chaplaincies of churches, and grant faculties to bishops from outside the archbishopric to perform ordinations. Such sweeping grants could only lead to trouble. One grant that was sure to prove controversial concerned the cathedral chapter. Ovando was empowered to confer all benefices, including canonries, even those in the cathedral chapter, that fell vacant. The wording, however, was ambiguous: “even if the conferral of the benefices and prebends that are to be provided jointly by us and the chapter of our holy church to the said church on suitable and qualified persons according to your judgment be simultaneous.”22 The statutes of the cathedral chapter provided that those members who were in sacris, that is, who had been ordained to the major orders of subdiaconate, diaconate, or priesthood, chose new members of the chapter together with the archbishop. The difficulty lay in the implementation of this joint power. Was the appointment made by the archbishop but with the approval of the chapter? Or was the archbishop merely first elector among equals? Did the archbishop have veto power over an election by the chapter? Valdés came into conflict with the chapter during his one and only visit to his archdiocese. On 23 January 1551 he called a meeting at which a

34

JUAN DE OVANDO

number of disputes arose, with the result that the chapter members walked out on the archbishop one by one. Finally, Valdés himself left, instructing the archdeacon to call another meeting for another time.23 There seems no doubt that Valdés used Ovando as his agent to suppress any movement in Seville that seemed in the least heterodox. The zeal for orthodoxy, however, went hand in hand with an increase of personal power. One ploy used by Valdés was to unite the office of provisor with that of inquisitor. In 1550 he named Gaspar Cervantes de Gaete to both posts, a move that aroused the hostility of the chapter. The chapter accused both Cervantes and Valdés of abusing their powers by using the Inquisition against crimes that fell under common law rather than inquisitorial jurisdiction. The crown sided with the chapter. Both Charles V and Prince Philip wrote Valdés to instruct him to separate the two offices.24 Valdés, nevertheless, proceeded to appoint Ovando as both provisor and inquisitor. When Philip, who became king on his father’s abdication in 1556, reproached him for this, Valdés claimed that he had never received the original order. This angered the king, who wrote a sharp letter on 27 July 1556, accusing the archbishop of disobedience.25 This incident marked the beginning of Valdés’s fall from favor, a fall that was accelerated by his own blundering and character flaws. Philip II, who was in Flanders, desperately needed money for his wars, including one with Pope Paul IV, and sent Ruy Gómez de Silva to Castile to obtain forced loans from nobles and prelates. The higher orders in Spain, both ecclesiastical and lay, had grown increasingly independent and recalcitrant during Philip’s protracted absence.26 Princess Juana, his regent in Castile, called on Valdés for 150,000 ducados.27 The archbishop gave nothing, pleading a variety of implausible excuses. Valdés vigorously denied having any money, though everyone knew he did. For a man whose whole career depended on royal favor, Valdés was quite reckless in his dealings with the crown. On 5 June 1558 Philip issued an order from Flanders banishing Valdés to his see. However, the discovery of a cell of so-called Lutherans in Valladolid and later in Seville gave Valdés the opportunity to extricate himself by exploiting the crown’s fear of heresy. Valdés presented the king with an alarming picture of heterodox opinion on the loose throughout Castile and urged that the Inquisition be put in charge of these investigations.28 The king countermanded the order of banishment. Valdés was somewhat more restrained with regard to heresy in Seville, since a picture that was too

THE PROVISOR OF SEVILLE

35

alarming might provide the crown with an excuse to return him there. Ovando continued as inquisitor despite the royal letter, although in 1559 (or perhaps earlier) Valdés appointed Juan González de Munébrega, bishop of Tarazona, chief inquisitor of Seville. Ovando and González did not get along, and the Suprema had to intervene to keep the peace.29 Ovando continued to work with the Inquisition and signed some of the sentences for the auto de fe held in September 1559, which he also attended. He was still working with it in 1563, on the eve of his departure from Seville.30 Valdés continued as both president of the Suprema and archbishop of Seville. There was one conflict between the archbishop and the chapter whose repercussions would last into Ovando’s tenure. It was the case of Juan Gil, more commonly known as Doctor Egidio (Gil and Egidio are the same name in Spanish).31 He held the position of canónigo magistral, or official preacher of the cathedral chapter, for more than twenty years. Although he was bishop-elect of Tortosa, he fell afoul of the Inquisition in 1549. On 21 August 1552 Egidio was compelled to abjure a series of propositions on the grounds that they were tinged with Lutheranism.32 He was sentenced to a year in prison, which was quickly commuted to a stay in a Carthusian monastery. In 1553 he was released and returned to the cathedral chapter, where he was warmly welcomed and resumed his position as canon preacher.33 He died in November 1555. Although Egidio had been treated leniently by the Holy Office, his case worsened relations between the archbishop and the chapter. Egidio does not seem to have been guilty of any genuine doctrinal error. Rather, he appears to have been a man of humanistic, Erasmian convictions, with a strong tendency to a biblically centered theology. Time was running out for such persons. The chapter seems to have viewed the whole process as a means of lessening its prestige and centralizing more power in the hands of the archbishop. Thus the canons were ready for the next challenge, which was not slow in coming: the appointment of a successor to Doctor Egidio. The choice was to fall on Doctor Constantino Ponce de la Fuente, commonly known as Doctor Constantino.

THE CASE OF DOCTOR CONSTANTINO The story of Doctor Constantino, as it is commonly told, has until recently rested on two opposed accounts. The first is that of Reinaldo González de

36

JUAN DE OVANDO

Montes (or Montano), an exile in Heidelberg who wrote a two-volume work, Sanctae Inquisitionis Hispanicae artes aliquot detectae (Some Devices of the Holy Spanish Inquisition Revealed), which was published in 1567.34 González de Montes was hostile to the Inquisition, and if he was not openly Protestant, he was strongly sympathetic to the Erasmian and illuminist movements of Seville. His portrait of Constantino is hagiographic, that of a hero who stood for gospel freedom against repressive dogmatism. Equally influential has been the account given by Marcelino Menéndez y Pelayo in his Historia de los heterodoxos españoles (History of the Heterodox Spaniards).35 A self-styled “sledgehammer” Catholic, he was unsympathetic to Constantino, whom he viewed as a crypto-Protestant. His account is based on primary sources, although he was careless in transcribing them.36 The major drawback of the Historia is that it treats the Constantino affair in a vacuum, without reference to factors involving Valdés, Ovando, and the cathedral chapter of Seville. Contemporaries saw Constantino and Egidio as the leaders of cell of Lutheran, that is, Protestant, thought in Seville. This view of Constantino was challenged by Marcel Bataillon, who sought to place Constantino within a more Catholic, humanistic reform movement of the sixteenth century.37 Since then, in the words of María Paz Aspe Ansa, Constantino “has ceased to be viewed simply as the great martyr for gospel truth or the impious Lutheran heretic, and his figure has begun to be studied in the light of the Erasmian-Illuminist movement presented by Bataillon.”38 William Burwell Jones sees him as an orthodox, evangelical Catholic.39 Constantino Ponce de la Fuente was born at San Clemente near Cuenca, early in the sixteenth century.40 There is general agreement among those who have written about him that he was of converso lineage, although there is no documentary proof of this.41 The only thing that is known for certain about his education is that on 30 August 1534 he received the degree of licenciado in theology, not from Alcalá, but from the University of Seville, where he was a colegial of the colegio mayor of Santa María de Jesús.42 There is no indication as to when he received the doctorate. At least once the minutes of the cathedral chapter of Seville refer to him as licenciado (1556).43 On 22 May 1535 he was ordained to the priesthood in the church of San Salvador in Seville by Sebastián de Obregón, bishop of Morocco. In general, all available evidence connects Constantino’s life and work with Seville.

THE PROVISOR OF SEVILLE

37

Constantino quickly made a name for himself as a preacher. In 1539 he gave the sermon at the memorial services held in Seville for the Empress Isabel of Portugal, wife of Charles V.44 On 1 May 1548 he preached a sermon before Prince Philip that brought him great notice and favor. Not long after, he accompanied the prince as chaplain and preacher on a trip to northern Europe and preached at Brussels during Lent in 1549.45 Constantino returned to Seville in 1551. At some unknown time Prince Philip appointed him to the post of maestrescuelas of Málaga and made him one of his paid preachers.46 In 1554 Constantino accompanied Philip to England on the occasion of the prince’s marriage to Mary Tudor. While in the royal service, Constantino was offered the post of canónigo magistral of Toledo but refused it.47 According to González de Montes, the reason he gave was that “the bones of his parents and grandparents had been resting in their tombs for many years and that he did not want to take on any duty that would be the cause of disturbing that rest.”48 The reference was to his converso background and to the fact that Archbishop Juan Martínez Silíceo of Toledo had recently imposed a limpieza de sangre statute on the chapter.49 It may also have reflected the grotesque story that the archbishop had exhumed the bones of the ancestors of some converso churchmen. Constantino seemed embarked on a major career. He was a man of learning and eloquence who was widely regarded as the best Spanish preacher of his age. Six of his sermons based on the text of Psalm 1, known by its initial Latin words as the Beatus vir, were published at Seville in 1546.50 He was the author of three other books, Suma de doctrina cristiana, an Erasmian dialogue dedicated to Archbishop García de Loaysa of Seville, which had enormous success throughout Spain, Confesión de un pecador penitente (Confession of a Penitent Sinner), and Catechismo cristiano (Christian Catechism).51 Constantino had an attractive personality and a keen sense of humor, which, like that of Erasmus, was often directed against ignorant monks and preachers.52 When, on 5 February 1556, the chapter published edicts throughout Seville that the canongía magistral, vacant since the death of Egidio, was open for candidates, it was only natural to suppose that Constantino would win it. A canónigo magistral needed advanced education and superior preaching ability. In addition, as the official preacher of the cathedral chapter, his doctrine had to be in accord with that of the canons. In this regard, Constantino was acceptable to the chapter but not to Valdés.

38

JUAN DE OVANDO

It was clear that the election required the participation of both the archbishop and the canons in major orders. What was not clear was whether the archbishop was just another elector, on a par with the canons, or whether he had veto power over their choice. What applied to the archbishop applied by delegation to his provisor. Valdés had his own candidate, Doctor Pedro Sánchez Zumel, the canónigo magistral of Málaga. All of this led to a dramatic confrontation between the chapter and Ovando, acting as the archbishop’s agent. On 20 April 1556 the chapter announced that the edicts had been complied with and listed the candidates for the canonry. Constantino’s name was on the list, but Zumel’s was not.53 On 22 April Ovando appeared before the chapter and announced that since the election had to take place within three days, he intended to have a role in it. For that purpose he asked to see the papal bulls that stipulated the conditions and procedures for such elections. The canons in major orders deputed five of their number to meet with Ovando, examine the bulls with him, and discern his intentions regarding the upcoming election.54 They decided that the chapter would be notified that Ovando should be given the role that belonged to him by right but that the chapter should lose none of its rights.55 On 24 April twenty-four of the canon electors, joined by Ovando, met and appointed a committee to examine the academic credentials of the candidates and to assign them topics and days on which to give demonstration sermons. Ovando’s name was at first included among the examiners but was scratched out later.56 It was at this time that Zumel was first listed as a candidate. On Sunday, 26 April, the deputies met and approved the academic credentials, saying that they were good and “free of all suspicion.”57 The candidates other than Constantino gave their demonstration sermons between 30 April and 7 May. On 8 May the canon electors approved a proposal that those candidates with doctoral degrees from recognized universities should not be required to undergo an examination or engage in a public scholastic disputation, a move that Ovando would soon challenge.58 Three days later three physicians, citing a long list of symptoms, testified that it would be impossible for Constantino to appear before the canons to preach or dispute in public.59 The real conflict began later that same day. The canons in major orders met and declared that it was time to proceed to the election. When it was Ovando’s turn to vote, he gave a long discourse, partly written, partly oral,

THE PROVISOR OF SEVILLE

39

which he began by citing numerous papal bulls that regulated elections to canonries. He claimed that they demanded that a rigorous public examination precede the election, and even if they did not, it was still a useful and appropriate thing to do in order to assess the orthodoxy of the candidates, “something that experience has shown in the last holder of this canonry”—a none too subtle reference to Egidio.60 He went on to say that in the capitular statutes “it is laid down that no one who is descended from parents or grandparents who are suspect in the holy Catholic faith can be admitted to this holy church.”61 Although he did not apply this clear reference to limpieza de sangre to Constantino, the reference must have been obvious to his hearers. Ovando went on to demand that the canons follow correct procedure “by ordering the candidates to make known their qualifications by submitting their clerical titles, giving information about their lineage and degrees and undergoing a public examination, as is customary and as one or more of the candidates have done.”62 He also demanded that the candidates provide assurance that their lineage had no taint (raça ni macula) that would prevent their being chosen for the position. If these conditions were not met, Ovando said, he would claim nullity against whatever was done and carry his appeals to Rome.63 He went even further when he said that as the ordinary judge of both the cathedral and the archdiocese, with the responsibility for seeing that the cathedral statutes were observed, he was ordering the canons under pain of an automatic major excommunication and a fine of 500 ducados not to choose any person who failed to provide the information he had specified. He also claimed the right as ordinary to examine and learn the qualifications of each candidate and to exclude those who were not thus examined. He accused the electors of having engaged in bargaining and intrigue before the election and forbade this under pain of another excommunication and an additional 500 ducado fine. In his oral presentation Ovando came to the crux of the matter. Constantino, he said, was clearly a candidate, and he had information that Constantino was married. He warned the canons not to elect Constantino, under the same penalties stated previously, until it was clear that he was no longer living a married life or that he had been properly dispensed. Ovando had thrown down the gauntlet, both in claiming his rights as provisor and in intervening directly in the election. Although his references to the public examinations and lineage applied to all the candidates,

40

JUAN DE OVANDO

they were implicitly aimed at Constantino. The only explicit accusation directed at Constantino was that of having been married before his ordination to the priesthood. Ovando’s interpretation of the foundational bulls and his role in the election did not have a strong basis, for Rome later found against him. Even more tenuous was his evidence that Constantino was or had been married, based as it was on the testimony of two women, one in San Clemente, the other in Málaga. If Ovando had had clear proof of the accusation, there would have been no possibility of Rome’s ruling for Constantino.64 Nor did Ovando directly impugn Constantino’s orthodoxy. This, however, was implicit in his call for public lecture and disputation. The chapter responded by commissioning four of its number to examine Ovando’s claim and make a report the following day, 12 May.65 Not surprisingly, the report went against Ovando.66 It summarized his stand and then refuted each point in turn. It emphasized that there was a natural presumption in favor of the candidates because the law presumed good unless there was proof to the contrary. Ovando, the committee said, should have put forth his objections earlier. As for the accusations of intrigue, they were rejected as “very false.”67 The committee rejected the accusation that Constantino was married, pointing to his good reputation as a priest, a reputation that went back twenty years to the time of Archbishop Manrique. Constantino had been universally accepted as priest, theologian, and preacher, without anything contrary ever being known about him.68 Ovando was also reminded that he had participated in the election as a coelector with the chapter, not as its superior or judge. The canons announced their intention to appeal to Rome against any steps that Ovando might take.69 Ovando rejected their appeal on the grounds that he had done nothing prejudicial to their rights.70 He told them that if they proceeded with the appeal, they would incur the excommunication with which he had threatened. The canon electors replied that they would proceed and would meet “grievance with grievance, force with force, appeal with appeal.”71 Ovando answered by agreeing to hear their arguments while still rejecting their appeal.72 The canon electors defied the provisor by declaring that they would proceed immediately to the election. Thereupon Ovando declared the entire group excommunicated.73 The canons declared the excommunication invalid and unanimously elected Constantino canónigo magistral. They then conferred the position over Ovando’s protests.74 On his own authority Ovando named Zumel

THE PROVISOR OF SEVILLE

41

to the post, and the canons announced their intention to appeal his act to Rome.75 A week later, on 20 May, Constantino sent a message to the canon electors expressing his desire to avoid all difficulties by preaching and lecturing as he had been asked. Despite his illness, he said, he had been willing to come “even if they brought me on a stretcher,” but the rapidity with which events had moved had not given him the opportunity to be available. The canons acceded to his request while carefully noting that it did not prejudice the election or introduce an innovation into the electoral process.76 They then invited Ovando to join them in choosing the passage on which Constantino was to expound, but he declined on the grounds that he was busy. The passage eventually chosen was distinction 30, book 2, of the Sentences of Peter Lombard, which dealt with original sin, a topic that offered a good opportunity to detect Lutheran sympathies.77 It is not clear if the lecture actually took place. After this there is no documentation that connects Ovando with Constantino’s case, although as inquisitor he must have been involved in subsequent events. Ovando’s signature is not found on any of the correspondence with the Suprema. The campaign against Constantino was carried on by another inquisitor, the licenciado Miguel de Carpio (uncle of the playwright Lope de Vega Carpio), who was inquisitor of Seville from 1559 to 1578. He was also a protégé of Valdés and earned a fearsome reputation as inquisitor.78 On 7 June 1557 the chapter was notified that Rome had decided in favor of Constantino.79 He was not allowed to enjoy his triumph. Both the Suprema in Valladolid and the local Inquisition of Seville had begun to move against Constantino even before the disputed election of 1556.80 The Suprema kept up a steady correspondence, ordering the confiscation of Constantino’s books and citing evidence that he was a converso.81 On 28 February 1557 Carpio wrote to the Suprema Constantino’s books were being examined and that suspect material had been found.82 It is not clear when Constantino was arrested and imprisoned in the castle of Triana, though the assertion 16 August 1558 is quite probable.83 The case against him was not strong, and the local inquisitors kept up a desperate search for evidence. The testimony regarding his marriage seems to have been unreliable. And the inquisitors found no conclusive proof of his doctrinal deviation or Lutheran sympathies. In the end they did not

42

JUAN DE OVANDO

need to do so, since Constantino died sometime between 15 January and 20 February 1560, most likely as the result of the rigors of his imprisonment.84 At first the news of his death was kept secret, but as it began to leak out the Suprema advised the local tribunal, “You ought to proceed against his memory and reputation.”85 Thus it is quite possible that the Inquisition of Seville was responsible for the circulation of stories that Constantino was a bigamist and that he committed suicide in prison.86 He was not allowed to rest in peace. In the auto de fe of 22 December his bones, like those of Egidio, were disinterred and burned, either separately or encased in an effigy of him preaching on a pulpit.87 Ovando was present at the auto.88 It is commonly accepted that the Constantino affair was a major step or perhaps an opening shot in a campaign against Erasmianism or any form of suspected heterodoxy in Seville. It is clear that the Inquisition was becoming more repressive under Valdés, who exploited the crown’s fear of heresy as a way to protect his position.89 The treatment of Constantino stands in sharp contrast to the comparatively lenient treatment of Egidio just a few years before. As Bataillon has shown, the spiritual climate in Spain changed dramatically in the period between 1556 and 1563, as the older generation of humanist churchmen died off and was replaced by the less tolerant generation of the Council of Trent and the Catholic Reformation.90 He goes so far as to say that after 1558 the Inquisition’s methods had a character of “premeditated atrocity” that was not present before and that persons who would have been given short-term penances a few years before were being burned.91 These generalizations, however, are not sufficient in themselves to explain the Constantino affair. Ovando never directly accused Constantino of heresy, nor was there anything in Constantino’s writings that could positively convict him of Lutheranism.92 The repeated assertions both then and later that Constantino had cleverly concealed his heresy reflected the frustration of those who tried to find heterodoxy in his writings.93 Heresy entered into the picture only indirectly, that is, through reference to limpieza de sangre (specified as descent from persons reconciled by the Inquisition) and the demand for a public disputation. Perhaps Ovando hoped that Constantino would implicate himself in the latter. Unfortunately, without the original inquisitorial process, it is impossible to determine the precise charges against Constantino.

THE PROVISOR OF SEVILLE

43

It was in his capacity as provisor, not inquisitor, that Ovando sought to thwart Constantino’s candidacy. The struggle with the chapter and the inquisitorial process were two different things. Ovando’s campaign was aimed first at Constantino personally; the only direct accusation was that of having been married, and Constantino was challenged to produce a dispensation and proof that he no longer lived a married life. The latter point, it seems, easily could have been verified in a city like Seville. It is significant that three years after the accusation, the Inquisition had the word of only two witnesses whose testimony was not considered sufficient and was still seeking others. Ovando displayed to the chapter written proof of the marriage, without the names of witnesses, but refused to allow the canons to read the depositions. The accusation of bigamy was ill founded and came long after the original controversy. The chapter itself was no more tolerant of doctrinal deviation or tainted lineage than was Ovando. In September 1556, just a few months after the encounter with Ovando, the canons rejected a candidate on the grounds that his lineage was suspect, despite (or perhaps because of) the fact that he had bulls from Rome giving him a position on the chapter.94 In the Constantino affair, the canons were defending both their candidate and their rights. Although on one occasion in 1559 they sent two representatives to inquire about the Inquisition’s treatment of Constantino, on the whole they showed remarkably little interest in him after his arrest. Thus, while the doctrinal element was present, the main question involved a power struggle between the archbishop and his chapter, a continuation of one that had begun from the day Valdés took possession of his see. What was Ovando’s attitude in all this? A firm believer in the Inquisition and all that it stood for, he seems to have remained convinced that Valdés’s stance was correct, that is, that Seville was a hotbed of heresy and that Constantino was a leader in the subversive movement. Evidence in support of this comes from a draft of a remarkable, and self-serving, letter that Ovando wrote to Philip II on 9 February 1573 in which he volunteered himself for the office of president of the Suprema.95 In reviewing the history of the Inquisition in Spain, he criticized Valdés for his absence from Seville: [While the archbishop was proceeding against heretics in Palencia and Zamora,] the Lutheran sect was being preached so publicly in Seville that I saw a letter there from a heretic exile in Germany written

44

JUAN DE OVANDO

to another of his disciples in Seville in which he said these words, “Happy Seville! where the teaching of Martin Luther is preached as publicly as in Ulm.” . . . I am an eyewitness because at that time he [Valdés] sent me as his provisor and inquisitor, and the first thing I encountered in the Inquisition was that they were employing wellknown heretics to evaluate propositions [i.e., verbal offenses] and in the [cathedral] church the chapter wanted to put into the canongía magistral Doctor Constantino, a bigamist with both wives still living and known for his evil teaching which was so accepted that they thought I was crazy for trying to oppose his election.96 It should be borne in mind that Ovando was making a case for his own advancement and was perhaps following a party line mentality as far as the Constantino case was concerned. He was an honest man, but he was also dedicated to the governmental and bureaucratic structure of which he was a part.

AT WAR WITH THE CHAPTER Ovando’s struggles with the chapter did not end with the Constantino affair. Like provisores before him, he was caught up in the conflicts between two competing authorities, the archbishop and the chapter. Though not without melodramatic moments, the conflicts entailed the serious issue of power over the archdiocese of Seville. Like the Constantino case, they often involved the question of who had the right of appointment to vacant canonries. That, however, came to the fore only when Ovando or Valdés had their own candidates to propose. Twice in 1556 Ovando attempted to appoint candidates to the chapter over the objections of the canons.97 Again the issue was his authority as provisor: was he just another elector, or did he have an absolute right of appointment? Ovando claimed his powers, and the chapter rejected them, to the extent of saying that if one of his candidates entered the choir the services would be suspended.98 In at least one case the canons admitted Ovando’s candidate, a retainer of Valdés’s, while insisting that it did not curtail their rights.99 Eventually compromises were reached, with each side trying to save face. These disputes were complicated by the fact that at the same time Ovando was dealing with criminal charges against some of the canons. These provide a lurid picture of the turbulence of that era. On 13 June 1556

THE PROVISOR OF SEVILLE

45

the chapter learned that Ovando had imprisoned a racionero named Diego Jiménez in the archbishop’s palace, and it delegated two members to find out the reason.100 The accusation, it turned out, was that Jiménez had tried to kill his uncle, the dean of the chapter, by putting an arsenic compound in his food.101 On 23 November Ovando informed the chapter that the city authorities had accused a racionero named Andrés de Salcedo of certain unmentioned crimes and that the royal justice was also pursuing him. As a result, he told the canons, he had imprisoned Salcedo, who was already under a two-year suspension by the chapter. In a rare display of cooperation, both the chapter and the provisor approved Salcedo’s continued imprisonment, if only to keep the civil authorities out of the case.102 In July 1563 Ovando asked the chapter to appoint deputies to help with a case against a canon, Alfonso de Zamora, who was accused of being involved in a murder. The canons asked Ovando to leave the room and then accepted his proposal while making the usual protestations that this did not diminish their rights in cases involving members of the chapter.103 The case lasted into 1564, when Zamora resigned his post.104 Sometime in fall 1556 Ovando imprisoned three members of the chapter for reasons that are now unknown.105 Valdés and Ovando viewed these canons as responsible for the opposition by the chapter and as trying to eliminate the archbishop from having a role in the provision of offices. At a brief meeting on 1 November (a Sunday as well as a holyday of obligation), the canons ordered their lawyers to work on the case in their name. They also directed the lawyers to contact the papal nuncio.106 They were about to appeal to both the Royal Council and, more to be feared, Rome. The papal nuncio, while asking to be kept informed, declined to intervene.107 Valdés also approved Ovando’s plan to arrest two more canons but only after they had been excommunicated. He drew the line, however, at an audacious proposal by his provisor to imprison the entire chapter. Valdés had no hesitation about rewarding relatives or retainers with positions in the cathedral chapter, using Ovando as his agent. In 1560 Ovando intervened in Valdés’s name to appoint the archbishop’s secretary, Fortuno de Ibargüen, a medio racionero.108 In 1563 Ovando appointed Ibargüen, who was already archdeacon of Sigüenza, to a vacant canonry. The canon electors unanimously accepted the appointment but only on condition that a competitor be given five months to prove that he had received the position from Rome. Ovando agreed, and eventually Ibargüen was

46

JUAN DE OVANDO

appointed.109 On 20 December Valdés gave Ovando the names of two candidates to be presented in the event of a vacancy in the chapter. One of them was Valdés’s nephew in Salamanca.110 The full irony came with Ovando’s own appointment as a member of the chapter in September 1559.111 Unfortunately, the minutes of the chapter were not kept from May to December of that year. They might have provided valuable information on what opposition the appointment encountered and about Ovando’s academic degrees and the holy orders he had received.112 The chapter did not have regularly scheduled meetings. It met according to the demands of business, as often as every day or as infrequently as once a week. There was no hesitation about meeting on Sundays or holydays, but for some reason it never met on Thursdays. Ovando seems to have been reasonably active in the chapter meetings, but aside from his involvement in disputed elections, there was nothing special about his participation. His duties as provisor and inquisitor took up much of the time that should have been spent in the chapter. He tended to become more involved in chapter business when he thought that its financial interests were being threatened. He usually voted in favor of money-saving proposals.113 Juan de Ovando’s primary function in Seville was to administer the archdiocese for an absentee archbishop. In itself this was a full-time job. Most of the provisor’s business was routine, such as inspecting and visiting parishes and hospitals, reviewing requests for dispensations or special privileges (such as a private chaplain for a noble family), the construction and endowment of chapels, and disciplinary problems among the clergy (such as absence without the archbishop’s permission). Although Valdés did not live in his see, he kept in close contact by letter. He, Ibargüen, and Ovando maintained a constant correspondence on all matters, from the most important to the most trivial. Unfortunately, Ovando’s part of this correspondence has not yet been found. The business of the archdiocese has to be reconstructed from the letters of Valdés and Ibargüen, which offers only a partial picture of events. A major part of their correspondence consisted of letters of recommendations for individuals to ecclesiastical offices. In Valdés’s case most of these were friends, retainers, relatives, or fellow bartolomicos. As president of the Suprema, he was concerned that inquisitors should receive canonries or other benefices that would give them financial support apart from

THE PROVISOR OF SEVILLE

47

the Holy Office.114 Both the archbishop and the provisor were at the center of an extended system of ecclesiastical patronage.

“PROTÉGÉS OF LICENCIADO ALDERETE” One of the most important factors in Juan de Ovando’s life and career was the network of relationships that he developed in Seville. The most immediate ones were within his own family, and it was during his stay in Seville that he first used his relatives as messengers and agents in a variety of matters, including financial ones. Most commonly mentioned in his correspondence were Doctor Nicolás de Ovando (who later entered the service of Cardinal Diego de Espinosa and became a member of the Council of Military Orders), and Fray Diego de Ovando. The former died in August or September 1565.115 He also mentioned a Doctor Alonso de Cáceres de Ovando, oidor of Santo Domingo and then Panama, who was probably a relative. Aside from his family, three people stood out in this network: the licenciado Diego Vázquez de Alderete, Benito Arias Montano, and Mateo Vázquez de Leca. It is also likely that it was in Seville that Ovando first came to know Diego de Espinosa. Of these, Vázquez de Alderete is the one about whom the least is known. A well-to-do and influential canon, he gathered about him a small group of capable individuals who were destined to rise in the Spanish imperial bureaucracy.116 He died on 4 February 1556 and was succeeded in the chapter by his nephew, Pedro de Alderete.117 When Pedro died in 1559, Ovando succeeded to his canonry. Outside of this, the little we know of Diego Vázquez de Alderete is found in the life of his protégé, Mateo Vázquez de Leca. In a letter congratulating Diego de Espinosa on his appointment as president of the Council of Castile, Vázquez de Leca spoke of the “support and shelter that all of us who were protégés of licenciado Alderete will have.”118 How or why a comparatively obscure canon in Seville formed such a network of clients or came to exercise such influence is still not known. Benito Arias Montano (1527–98) was a figure of the Spanish Renaissance. Whether he was of converso lineage is a matter of dispute.119 He devoted himself to biblical studies and was the editor of the Antwerp Polyglot, also known as the Biblia Regia, published in 1572. At one point he was

48

JUAN DE OVANDO

denounced to the Inquisition because he preferred the Hebrew original of the Old Testament to the Latin Vulgate translation, which, especially in the aftermath of the Council of Trent, came to have an almost sacred position among many Catholic theologians. He was, however, cleared of all suspicion of heresy.120 In 1576 Philip II invited him to be professor of oriental languages and curator of the library of the Escorial. Bataillon considered Arias Montano “a mysterious figure” and wrote that he had “a rare charm, which consisted principally of a very great knowledge added to an extraordinary modesty and the disinterestedness of an ascetic.”121 Luis Morales Oliver’s statement that he harmonized medieval scholasticism with the Renaissance does not ring true, for he was primarily a biblical scholar and theologian.122 It is not clear when and how Ovando and Arias Montano first came to know each other. The extant correspondence dates from 1568 to 1573 when Arias Montano was in Antwerp.123 It presupposes a close acquaintance of long standing. This correspondence, which took place during the last and most active period of Ovando’s life, was that of two renaissance men, based on mutual respect and interests. The primary focus was the interchange of news and the purchase of books and scientific instruments for the Council of the Indies. It also exhibits a humanistic side of Ovando’s personality not often seen at other periods of his life. Of the relationships that Ovando formed in Seville, that with Mateo Vázquez de Leca (ca. 1543–97) was the most important.124 It was also the longest, deepest, and, for a time, the most emotional. Vázquez de Leca rose to be private secretary to Philip II (1573–91) and arguably the second most powerful man in the Spanish empire, yet he reached that peak from origins so murky and questionable as to cause surprise in our own day as well as his. The story of his background is complex and tedious, but in view of his long and close relationship with Ovando, his position of power under Philip II, and the whole question of limpieza de sangre, it needs to be examined. The standard account of his youth as he told it in middle age and as it has been repeated by some modern authors was that he was the son of Santo de Ambrosino (or Ambrogini) and Isabel de Luciano (usually given in the Spanish spelling, Luchiano), natives of Coya on the island of Corsica.125 Both parents were supposedly descended from the noble house of Lecca, which had been dispossessed by the Genoese. In about 1542 Coya

THE PROVISOR OF SEVILLE

49

was sacked by Moslem corsairs, and Isabel, who was in late pregnancy, was taken to Algiers as a captive. There she gave birth to a son, a fact that was made known in Coya through letters and reports of freed captives. When the boy was about two or three years old, they were ransomed and went to Seville. There, according to one author, Hazañas y la Rúa, Isabel entered the service of the canon Diego Vázquez de Alderete.126 He added that no one in Seville knew her husband and that out of gratitude she adopted Vázquez’s name for her two children. When Vázquez de Alderete died in 1556, he left a sum of money for Mateo’s education. According to Hazañas y la Rúa, followed indirectly by A. W. Lovett, Isabel de Luchiano is to be identified with the Isabel Pérez to whom the canon bequeathed a sum of money for her daughter’s dowry.127 Until the age of twenty, Mateo Vázquez was under the care of tutors, who looked after him as if he were a true orphan. This standard account is full of inconsistencies. It does not account for the fact that Isabel de Luchiano had two children, Mateo and a girl, María Vázquez de Luchiano, who was born in Seville, a city that Santo de Ambrosino never visited. It does not explain why Isabel went to Seville from Algiers instead of returning to Corsica. It contradicts testimony given in 1556 that Mateo was an orphan without parents. It conflicts with evidence that Mateo lived in the canon’s home from the age of three or five. Among the many servants, including a black slave, who are mentioned in the canon’s will, there is no mention of Isabel de Luchiano.128 The identification of Isabel de Luchiano with Isabel Pérez is clearly mistaken. The former never went by any name but Luchiano, and the references in the will to Isabel Pérez indicate no relationship with Mateo. There is no documentary evidence that connects Isabel de Luchiano with Canon Diego Vázquez de Alderete. Who, then, was Mateo Vázquez? The first documentary evidence of his existence is in Vázquez de Alderete’s will, dated 5 September 1553. The canon left Mateo, one of his servants, 30 ducados for his clothing and provisions “especially because he is a minor.”129 In a codicil dated 13 April 1556, he altered the terms: “I leave to Mateo, my little page, one hundred gold ducados which [illegible] 37,500 maravedís.”130 This was apparently intended to take care of his expenses and education. On that same day testimony was given that described Mateo, age eleven, as without parents and having been raised by Vázquez de Alderete from the age of three.131

50

JUAN DE OVANDO

There is contemporary evidence that Mateo was educated in Seville by the Jesuits.132 The next documentary evidence comes from an investigation into his lineage made in Seville in 1561 during the time when Ovando was still provisor. This is the first document that connects Mateo with Isabel de Luchiano. Two witnesses, Damián Corsa and Catalina Corsa, who was apparently Damián’s sister-in-law, both Corsicans, claimed to have been captives with Isabel in Algiers. They testified that Isabel had a son whom they had seen with her in Seville. Damián claimed to have been captured in Corsica four months after Isabel and to have been imprisoned with her. He testified that at that time the boy was two or three months old and that he was two or three years old at the time of the ransom. He said that he was ransomed after three years, came to Seville, and then settled in Cádiz. Catalina Corsa testified that she was captured four years after Isabel and saw her raising the boy, who was about four years old. Although the witnesses gave different ages for the boy, the court of inquiry ruled that the filiation was “beyond doubt.”133 Three years later Mateo petitioned for control of his estate. He declared that he was a fatherless orphan (huérfano de padre), had been about thirteen when Diego Vázquez de Alderete died, and was now twenty.134 On 6 September a royal cédula sought opinions on this. One response said that Mateo had been in the canon’s service for eight years.135 After Mateo Vázquez reached prominence, there was widespread skepticism about his background. As a result, in 1572 another investigation was made into his ancestry and limpieza de sangre, in part to stop speculation about his origins. The inquisitors of Seville, Carpio and Salazar, asked the inquisitor of Sardinia to investigate the matter. The latter sent an agent and notary to Corsica in October 1572. In November twelve witnesses recounted to the mayor of Ajaccio and a notary the standard story of the Algerian captivity and the birth of Mateo in Algiers. The inquisitors of Seville declared themselves satisfied as to both his limpieza and his nobility. From 1582 on, Mateo began to sign himself Vázquez de Leca and at about the same time commissioned a long and rather fanciful genealogy. He clung to that as the official story for the rest of his life.136 It is impossible to reconstruct the background of Mateo Vázquez de Leca. It is most probable that he was an orphan, perhaps illegitimate, who was taken into Vázquez de Alderete’s household at an early age.137 He may

THE PROVISOR OF SEVILLE

51

have been the son of Isabel de Luchiano, although the reference to that comes rather late in his life. Before Mateo’s rise to respectability, Isabel lived in a tawdry section of Triana and may even have been a prostitute. Sometime in the 1580s a Corsican captive in Algiers, Pier Antonio Ambrosini, asked for ransom on the grounds that he was Mateo Vázquez’s brother. Isabel stoutly denied this, saying that her husband, Santo de Ambrosini, believing her dead in Algiers, had remarried and fathered a half brother to Mateo. This is inconsistent with statements by witnesses about the regular communications between Algiers and Corsica concerning Isabel’s captivity.138 In later life Mateo corresponded with Isabel and her daughter, María, on a regular basis. He acted as patron for María’s son, also called Mateo Vázquez de Leca, who became a prominent churchman in Seville. It is possible that Mateo Vázquez was the illegitimate son of a local cleric, although there is no evidence of legitimation prior to his ordination to the priesthood.139 The most remarkable aspect of all this is that in a society that placed such importance on unsullied lineage, a man of suspicious origins could rise to such heights. How did Vázquez de Leca rise from such a questionable background to be private secretary to the king? Clearly, he had powerful patrons. After Diego Vázquez de Alderete, the chief among these was Juan de Ovando and Diego de Espinosa. Although it is clear that Ovando first met Mateo Vázquez in the household or service of Diego Vázquez de Alderete, nothing is known for certain about the early years. Mateo began to act as Ovando’s secretary in late 1562 or early 1563.140 The first evidence of their relationship comes in a series of letters written by Ovando from the University of Alcalá de Henares in 1565 when he was conducting the reform of that university. Ovando had brought Vázquez with him from Seville to act as secretary and general helper. Although the letters deal mostly with routine business, they reveal an intensely personal and emotional attachment on Ovando’s part. He talked about himself and his attitudes in a way that he never did in any other correspondence. The salutations habitually refer to Vázquez as his “brother” and on one memorable occasion as “Very Magnificent Sir, my brother and son.” The father-son motif was strong. On one occasion he spoke of Vázquez as “a son whom I want very much to persevere in virtue.”141 In September 1565 Mateo Vázquez began a campaign to enter the service of Diego de Espinosa, president-coadjutor of the Suprema and newly

52

JUAN DE OVANDO

appointed president of the Council of Castile. Ovando joined in the campaign. On 11 August 1564 he wrote to Pedro Deza, one of Espinosa’s most influential colleagues, to request that he use his good offices to bring Mateo into Espinosa’s service. He said that the young man’s merits and character “made him the worthy servant of any prince.”142 He pointedly reminded Deza of Vázquez de Alderete’s affection for the young Mateo, perhaps an indication that Deza, too, had belonged to that circle. To Espinosa, Ovando wrote that Vázquez was “the best loved thing that licenciado Alderete left in this world,” that he was second to none in clerical ability, and that he (Ovando) “regard[s] him as a son.”143 On Vázquez’s departure to enter the cardinal’s service, Ovando presented him with one of his own academic gowns and counseled him to remain firm in his good habits and conduct.144 When Vázquez showed some nervousness about being in the cardinal’s service, Ovando assured him in fatherly tones, “[k]eep your mouth closed and continue as is your habit and be very humble, making yourself available to everyone and God will do the rest.”145 The young man apparently took this advice to heart, for one of the secrets of his success was his ability to “know his place.” Unlike Espinosa or Antonio Pérez, he never overreached himself. In later years, after Vázquez de Leca had become one of Philip II’s secretaries (8 March 1573), the correspondence continued, but the paternal tone did not. Ovando addressed Vázquez as an equal, and in some ways as a superior, and there was no longer the homely advice and exchange of confidences that had taken place earlier. The two men were remarkably alike in their sense of duty, dedication to efficiency and good administration, and unquestioned devotion to Philip II. As the king’s secretary, Vázquez de Leca reached a pinnacle of power just below that of the king himself. One of Philip’s biographers commented that, “[H]e grew in favor and power because of the king’s absences. All consultas came into his hands and he dispatched them to their tribunals, so that he seemed to be an archsecretary.”146 He also made many enemies, especially Antonio Pérez and the Princess of Eboli, who called him “this Moorish dog” because of his swarthy complexion and dubious origins.147 This hostility is also reflected in the works of modern historians. Lynch called him an “assiduous and time-serving cleric” who remained in power “largely by his utter loyalty and his readiness to inform on his colleagues.” Gregorio Marañón was particularly

THE PROVISOR OF SEVILLE

53

hostile, calling him “this curious character” and “the mysterious Mateo.” He also described Mateo as a hypocrite, “not very intelligent but patient, studious, meticulous and organized” and suffering from the Spanish vice of “squealing.” He said that “the poison of Machiavelli had entered into his bureaucratic and servile soul.”148

THE LURE OF ALCALÁ DE HENARES By 1564 Ovando was approaching his fiftieth year, an advanced age by the standards of the sixteenth century. At that crucial stage in his life he found himself still the provisor of Seville, still acting as the agent of an absentee bishop, without any higher or more permanent station in his life. There is no doubt that he was growing dissatisfied with what appeared to be a dead end. Valdés was full of placating words. In 1559 he wrote, “Some day, please God, there will be some way of repaying you as I wish, and I will do it in such a way that you will not find yourself in any need, having, as I do, concern for your personal advancement, as is right.”149 On 16 May of the same year he wrote to Philip II, “[m]y provisor . . . deserves more than I to be given a bishopric.”150 Then, in spring 1564, Ovando received a request to undertake a general reform of the university of Alcalá de Henares. There is no documentation on how the decision for the reform was reached or why Ovando was asked to do it. The first mention of it is in a letter from Valdés to Ovando of 8 May 1564. Ovando had communicated the news to the archbishop, who replied, “[u]p to now I know nothing for certain nor has anyone told me anything and so I cannot give an opinion, except that if something should happen, you will know what is best for you.” He went on again to insist on how much he had always desired Ovando’s advancement.151 He made the same point again three days later: “I wish that there were something else that would be of more help to your advancement and advantage, as I have always desired and tried every time I have had the occasion to report to His Majesty about you.”152 Valdés, of course, realized that he was in danger of losing an invaluable helper, one who effectively enabled him to be an absentee archbishop. On 8 June he redoubled his efforts, even though it appears that by this time Ovando had decided to go to Alcalá. The archbishop pointed out that all of Ovando’s colleagues, “relatives, colegiales, and catedráticos,” were trying to dissuade him from

54

JUAN DE OVANDO

leaving Seville. Valdés admitted that Ovando’s eventual departure was inevitable but expressed his doubt that the reform of the university of Alcalá was the best way to go. He pointed out that the offices of reformer and provisor were incompatible and that Ovando would have to resign the latter (as he eventually did).153 Fortuno de Ibargüen joined in the campaign by emphasizing the bleak experiences of visitadores (investigators) and reformers. His letter also expressed the realities of royal service: In my own experience I have seen that people to whom things of this sort are entrusted are usually left with little to do. Since they are going to be idle, they try to make something out of it in the hope of doing something for the king so that he will reward them some day. No visita [investigation of governmental operation or abuse], no matter how brief it may be, fails to last at least a year. . . . Sometimes years pass without its ending and during all that time those who make the visitation support themselves at their own expense.154 Ibargüen was correct. The visitation of the university took almost three years and saddled Ovando with debts that lasted to the end of his life. There was obvious self-interest on the part of both the archbishop and his secretary. Still, there seems no doubt that the pessimists had a good case and some of the gloomier prophecies proved correct. Ovando, of course, may well have seen his position in Seville as leading nowhere. Despite all of Valdés’s protestations, he was still only provisor. Ovando was obviously growing tired of promises. He had incurred some debts in doing favors for Ibargüen, and the latter offered manifold excuses for delaying repayment. In one of his last letters to Ovando, the archbishop’s secretary thanked him for all the work that he had done but said it would be impossible to recompense him with the benefice of Utrera, since Valdés had promised it to one of his clients.155 Ovando undoubtedly saw, as the others did not, that the proposed reform of the university would provide him with the opportunity to make himself known beyond Seville and find a niche in the royal service. In this he was correct. Beyond this, however, there was also the fact that he had found a new patron, Diego de Espinosa. Rising from humble beginnings, Espinosa was for some seven years the second most powerful man in

THE PROVISOR OF SEVILLE

55

Spain. He was also a patron of both Juan de Ovando and Mateo Vázquez de Leca. On 4 August 1564 Ovando resigned as provisor of the archdiocese of Seville but not as a canon of the cathedral chapter.156 Soon after he set out for Madrid, and the twentieth of the month found him on the outskirts of the city, where he received Ibargüen’s apologies for not having gotten him better lodgings.157 Ovando’s whereabouts and activities for the next nine months are difficult to reconstruct. In December 1564 he was in Alcalá de Henares, and letters to him there identified him as the “reformer of the University of Alcalá.”158 At some time in March or April 1565 he planned a return visit to Seville but changed his mind.159 For almost a full year following his resignation Ovando and Ibargüen kept up a regular correspondence about the affairs of the archdiocese of Seville, and it was not until July 1565 that his involvement with the archdiocese finally ended.160 Ovando now undertook a major and important task, one that would advance his career and begin his ascent to the higher levels of government.

CHAPTER FOUR

The Reform of the University of Alcalá de Henares

T

he foremost Spanish churchman of his age was born Gonzalo Jiménez de Cisneros at Torrelaguna, in the diocese of Avila, in 1463.1 His parents were of noble but poor lineage. He undertook his early studies at Alcalá and then went to Salamanca to study law and theology. He also spent some years in Rome, apparently as a student. On the death of his father, he returned to Spain, armed with papal bulls that gave him the post of archpriest of Uceda. This caused a dispute with the archbishop of Toledo, who briefly imprisoned him.2 Cisneros eventually went free with his right to the benefice vindicated. After a brief tenure in that post, he became provisor of the diocese of Sigüenza. In search of a less worldly life, he entered the Observant Franciscan order at Toledo in 1484 and took the name Francisco. For a short time after finishing his novitiate he led a secluded and ascetic life in a Franciscan house outside Toledo. In 1492 he came to the attention of Queen Isabel, who named him her confessor. In 1495 the queen had him named archbishop of Toledo, a position he accepted only at the explicit order of the pope. The new archbishop held synods for the purpose of reform and was responsible for preserving the Mozarabic liturgy, which dated back to Visigothic times. At the death of Isabel in 1506, Castile entered a prolonged period of dynastic instability that culminated in the comunero revolt in 1520–21. In 1506–7, after the death of Philip I and because of the incapacity of the lawful queen, Juana la loca, Cisneros became regent of Castile.3 In the name of the Castilian nobles he invited Fernando of Aragon, then in

THE REFORM OF THE UNIVERSITY OF ALCALÁ DE HENARES

57

Italy, to assume the regency. When Fernando returned to Castile, he brought with him papal bulls that made Cisneros both a cardinal and the Inquisitor General. Cisneros was a strong supporter of the Inquisition and resisted all attempts to do away with its secret procedures.4 Although he has often been credited with a wholesale reform of the Spanish church under Fernando and Isabel, this is greatly exaggerated. His reforming work was confined mostly to his own order, the Observant Franciscans, and was primarily in terms of turning Conventual houses over to the order.5 Even this was strongly resisted in Spain (particularly Aragon where the Conventuals were strong) and Rome. After Fernando’s death on 23 January 1516, Cisneros again became regent, this time for the young Charles V. There was a great deal of dissatisfaction with the new situation. The young Flemish king was not popular, and the nobles and cities were restive. Cisneros ruled with a strong hand. He crushed a rebellion in Navarre and in 1517 began the formation of a permanent militia. As much as anyone else, Cisneros was responsible for Charles V’s accession to the thrones of Castile and Aragon. Despite the eighty-year-old regent’s success in keeping the kingdom controlled and peaceful, the self-seeking Flemings around the young king turned the royal mind against him.6 Traveling across Spain in response to a rather formal and cold letter from the monarch, Cisneros died at Roa, near Valladolid, on 8 November 1517. Cisneros dominated Spanish religious life for twenty years and was a major political power throughout most of that period. He was a man of contradictions. Early in life he was a successful priest with a good career ahead of him, yet he gave it up to become a Franciscan. He preferred to live a simple, austere life but rose to ecclesiastical and political eminence. He was inflexible, even ruthless, in certain policies, such as the forced conversion of the Moors of Granada. He was well educated and a humanist, yet supported the Inquisition and for many years was its guiding force. Bataillon sees Cisneros as a humanist in the mold of Erasmus,7 whom in 1517 Cisneros unsuccessfully sought to bring to Spain.8 The two themes of humanistic education and church reform so prominent in his life came together in what may have been his greatest achievement, the foundation of the University of Alcalá de Henares.

58

JUAN DE OVANDO

COLLEGE AND UNIVERSITY The idea of renewing the clergy through the reform of their education may have been in Cisneros’s mind for many years. There are indications of his interest in revitalizing Spanish theological teaching and founding a school in Toledo. He began to think on a larger scale and turned his attention to Alcalá de Henares, which was in his archdiocese and where the archbishops of Toledo had a palace. It was there, late in the fifteenth century, that Cisneros decided to found a colegio mayor to be called San Ildefonso.9 In 1499 he obtained a bull of approval from Pope Alexander VI. Cisneros commissioned the architect Pedro Gumiel to draw up plans for the new school, and the cornerstone was laid on 14 March 1498.10 Gumiel also built a new church to replace the older collegiate church of Santos Justo y Pastor. This became the university church, and Cisneros endowed it with twentynine additional prebends, to be awarded to masters of theology and arts from the university. It was the only church in the Catholic world, outside of one in Louvain, to have the title Iglesia magistral, literally, “teaching church.”11 Today it is the site of the cardinal’s tomb. San Ildefonso opened its doors on 24 June 1508.12 The first constitutions, however, were not promulgated until 22 January 1510. The building of a college and university literally from the ground up allowed Cisneros to give it a distinctive character. There is no doubt that his primary objective was to provide a means for educating the Spanish clergy. The university was to become something of a bastion of Christian humanism. The influence of the Renaissance was notable, as was the theological pluralism of its program of studies, which included chairs of Scotism and Nominalism.13 The University of Salamanca had been alarmed by the cardinal’s project and tried to persuade him to found his colegio there. He refused, because San Ildefonso and the university were not to overlap with the functions of the other Spanish universities but supplement them. Theology was the supreme discipline at Alcalá. To assure this, Cisneros excluded civil law from the curriculum, although he eventually permitted the introduction of chairs in canon law.14 The organizational structure of the new institution was unique among the Spanish universities of the time in that the colegio mayor of San Ildefonso (sometimes simply called the Mayor) was the governing body of the university. Some functions, including many financial ones, resided in both

THE REFORM OF THE UNIVERSITY OF ALCALÁ DE HENARES

59

institutions, while others belonged exclusively to the one or the other.15 The most important point of convergence was that the rector of San Ildefonso was also the rector of the university. He and his council were elected by and from its colegiales.16 The election took place each October 17, the eve of the feast of Saint Luke. Each elected member served a one-year term that could be repeated only after an interval of two years.17 The rector had far more power than his counterparts in other Spanish universities. His authority included judicial powers—the university and its personnel were independent of local criminal justice—and he could impose excommunications for certain offenses. A great deal of pomp surrounded the office of rector, and it was said that “under God he has no superior on earth.”18 This was not entirely true, for there were two checks on his authority. The first was the chancellor, who had the power to award degrees.19 The other was the annual visita, which was intended to ensure that the constitutions were observed and that the financial affairs of the university were in good order.20 In contrast to the older universities, such as Salamanca and Valladolid, the newer ones had clear, carefully spelled out procedures for the visitas. At Alcalá the constitutions of 1510 established norms for the visita (constitution 63); later these were given fuller development in the Forma visitationis established after Cisernos’s death.21 The rector’s authority was also closely circumscribed by the constitutions. He was assisted by two separate groups of three councillors each, one group for San Ildefonso and one group for the university. Important business was transacted in meetings called claustros. The claustros of San Ildefonso that included all the colegiales were called the capilla.22 A claustro pleno was a plenary meeting of all the officers and faculties of the university. So close was the union between the colegio mayor and the university that they were referred to by the common name Colegio Mayor de San Ildefonso y Universidad. According to Cisneros’s original constitutions of 1510, there were four patrons of the university: the king, the archbishop of Toledo, the cardinal whose titular church was Santa Balbina in Rome, and the duke of Infantado.23 The advantage was that the fledgling institution had the two most powerful patrons in the civil and ecclesiastical spheres. The disadvantage, aside from the divided leadership, was that it could be made to serve ends that were other than educational. The most egregious example of this occurred in 1520–21, when Charles V expropriated the university’s money

60

JUAN DE OVANDO

to help pay for his coronation as Holy Roman Emperor.24 This may help to explain why the rector of the university was accused of favoring the comunero revolt against royal authority in 1520–21.25 At San Ildefonso, many of the scholarships were under the control of patrons, usually prominent families or civil and ecclesiastical corporations.26 Some of the students lived in religious houses, while others were in pupilajes, or licensed student residences that were essentially small boardinghouses subject to university rules and inspection. As in most other colegios mayores in Spain, life at San Ildefonso was quasi-monastic and the discipline strict.27 Many of its practices would have been familiar to Ovando from his days at San Bartolomé. No resident could spend the night outside the colegio; the doors were locked at sunset. There was reading at table, and only Latin could be spoken, even in ordinary conversation.28 There were six categories of persons at the colegio. The colegiales, originally thirty-three but reduced to twenty-four by Ovando, ranked first, and had to meet exacting admissions standards. The minimum age of admission was twenty, and a scholarship lasted eight years. The porcionistas, of whom there were usually twenty, mostly from noble families, paid tuition and board. They ate in the refectory with the colegiales but sat in a lower place. They were subject to a less severe regimen.29 The cameristas were generally poor and received from the colegio only lodging and two gold florins annually during a two-year term.30 There were thirteen cameristas, and they were often unruly. Compañeros, whose number depended on the availability of beds, received only lodging and were roommates of the cameristas. They sometimes worked as servants for the porcionistas. In addition, the colegio population included chaplains (capellanes) and servants (familiares).31 In addition to the colegio mayor of San Ildefonso, Cisneros established a number of colegios menores, including those for poor students (colegios de pobres) and for religious orders. When the university opened there were seven colegios menores, one of which, San Lucas, was actually a hospital for students.32 At the time Ovando began his reform, there were eight in addition to the hospital. Each of the colegios housed students in a particular discipline. These were Madre de Dios (theology), San Pedro y San Pablo (Franciscans), Santa Catalina (philosophy), San Isidro (grammar), Santa Balbina (summae), San Ambrosio (logic), San Dionisio (metaphysics), San Eugenio (grammar), and San Jerónimo or Colegio Trilingüe (Latin, Hebrew,

THE REFORM OF THE UNIVERSITY OF ALCALÁ DE HENARES

61

and Greek). Over time, some thirty-two colegios menores, representing provinces, religious orders, and military orders, were added. These were administratively independent of San Ildefonso, linked to it only through their relationship to the university.33 The five original faculties were arts and philosophy, theology, canon law, and letters.34 Cisneros wanted a curriculum in which theology was paramount, but classical and modern philosophies were also included. The faculty of arts was viewed as a necessary preparation for theology. Since medicine was one of the arts and the cardinal considered it essential for the common good, a small faculty of medicine, consisting of two chairs, was included in the original constitutions. The first chair was set up in 1514. Teaching positions at the major Spanish universities were highly prized and well paid. A professor could be a catedrático, a holder of a tenured chair, or a regente, a holder of a regencia or catedrilla, chairs with set time limits.35 Although the university offered courses representing various schools and their philosophical substrata, including eventually Thomism, Nominalism, Durandism, and Scotism, they had a strong biblical orientation. Among the courses was patristics, the study of the church fathers. The biblical and patristic emphasis, in turn, required study of the original languages. The constitutions decreed the establishment of a chair of Greek and foresaw the establishment of chairs of Hebrew, Arabic, and Syriac. The teaching of Hebrew was inaugurated in 1512, but apparently the chair of Arabic never materialized. Of the colegios menores, one of the most prestigious was the Colegio Trilingüe, founded in 1548, which had thirty colegiales. The university was characterized by intellectual rigor. Students began studying by candlelight at five o’clock in the morning, and the first classes began at seven and ended at three.36 The students retired at nine o’clock after doing further study. Instruction was primarily by lecture. As in most Spanish universities, the professor read from a prepared text or notes. At specified times some of the professors would be “at the post” (al poste); that is, they would retire to one of the patios and lean against a column where they would answer students’ questions and objections.37 According to Cisneros’s original constitutions, there were four actas, or public debates and disputations: quaestiones quodlibetales, parva ordinaria, magna ordinaria, and alfonsina. The latter two were called solemn actas

62

JUAN DE OVANDO

because those who had doctoral, master’s, and licenciado degrees participated, not just those with bachelor’s degrees.38 After Ovando’s reform, theologians were required to undergo three successive examinations: tentativa, tercer principio, and magna ordinaria. For medical students, the magna ordinaria was replaced by the alfonsina (a corruption of ildefonsina), which took place every two years or even less frequently and was a prerequisite for the degree of licenciado. Of all the examinations, it was the most feared. It was a public scholastic disputation that had to be done entirely from memory. On the feast of San Ildefonso (23 January), the bachelors would choose a prior to preside over the alfonsinas for that year. These took place each Friday during the seven weeks between Easter and Pentecost and usually lasted an entire day for each person who was being examined.39 Graduation was accompanied by the publication of the rótulo, which consisted of three parts: a preamble with information about the examiners, professors, and students; a notification from the examiners to the professors that the students had been examined and awarded degrees; and a list of the new graduates ranked in numbered order. Whether to retain the rótulo became a major question during Ovando’s reform, and it was abolished by the claustro pleno. There is no agreement as to the degree to which Cisneros’s university was truly a “humanistic” or Renaissance-style school. Bataillon believed it was a humanistic university that was deeply impregnated with Christianity.40 Ramón González Navarro is of a similar opinion, holding that it had a strong humanist orientation associated with the New Learning of the Renaissance.41 The question of the humanistic nature of the University of Alcalá is closely tied to another, the extent to which Cisneros’s original vision of the school was altered or corrupted in subsequent generations.42 This, in turn, is related to the various visitations and reforms of the university that were made in its early history. Cisneros had ruled that there should be annual visitas to determine whether the constitutions were being obeyed and the financial affairs of the university properly administered. In addition to these, there were periodic reforms, usually made by crown appointees, whose purpose was to ascertain what changes were needed in the to keep it functioning properly. In the history of Alcalá, then, there is a major distinction between visitas and reforms. The former were annual checks to make sure that the university was functioning according

THE REFORM OF THE UNIVERSITY OF ALCALÁ DE HENARES

63

to its constitutions; the latter were sporadic investigations into the very structure of the institution. There were four known reforms of the university before that undertaken by Ovando.43 The first to deal with substantive issues was that of Juan de Quíñones, maestrescuelas of Salamanca, who was sent by Charles V in 1544 to make sure that the original constitutions were being observed.44 Eleven years later, in response to rumors of the nonobservance of the constitutions and previous reforms, the king appointed Gaspar de Zúñiga, bishop of Segovia, as reformer. Zúñiga instituted substantial reforms, but there are indications that they did not take effect. It is significant that Ovando’s reform of the university followed so closely on that of Zúñiga. This has led to speculation that Zúñiga’s reforms were not implemented.45 In view of the confusion that Ovando found in the documentation of the university and its history, this is quite plausible.

OVANDO’S REFORM How and why Juan de Ovando was chosen to undertake the reform is not clear. It is possible that Espinosa arranged it as a way to advance Ovando’s career and his own position.46 What is clear is that on 4 August 1564 Ovando resigned as provisor of Seville, though not as canon, and in September 1564 he undertook his new work with diligence, enthusiasm, and exhausting thoroughness.47 On 17 September 1564, a royal notary informed Ovando in Alcalá de Henares of the royal provision for the reform of the university.48 Ovando was given broad powers to deal with a variety of questions, which may have reflected the concerns that had come before the Council of Castile. He was to investigate how the rector and colegiales were elected and how the chairs were provided and to determine if there was any factionalism or dishonesty involved, especially with regard to the university’s finances. He was given the right to subpoena witnesses.49 When the investigation was completed, he was to bring the results before the Council of Castile. Ovando’s assistants in the reform were Mateo Vázquez, his secretary, and Pedro Carrillo, his notary. On 19 September Ovando summoned a claustro pleno, which included the rector, Martín Ramos, and the abbot and chancellor, Hernando de Balbás, and informed them of his commission. The entire assembly went

64

JUAN DE OVANDO

through the quaint ritual of accepting the royal order: they received it, kissed it, placed it over their heads in sign of submission, “and obeyed it with the respect due a letter of their king and natural lord, whom God our lord keep and let live for many years with the growth of greater kingdoms and dominions.”50 Ovando had three copies of a proclamation of his reform drawn up and published in various parts of the university on the following day. Ovando wasted no time beginning his work. His first task was to learn as much as possible about the university’s administration, finances, physical plants, enrollment, and all other aspects of its functioning. He quickly discovered that obtaining the necessary documentation was not an easy task. On 26 September he went to San Ildefonso to obtain from the rector and his councillors a long list of documents necessary for drawing up the questionnaires of the reform.51 Ramos took Ovando to the university archive, whose door was protected by three iron locks. Inside was a large wooden chest, with some twenty slots with titles. These, Ramos declared, contained all the papers dealing with every imaginable aspect of university business. Ovando demanded to see the book that was mandated by paragraph 24 of Cisneros’s constitutions, that is, a general ledger of all the privileges, exemptions, and income of the university.52 Ramos replied that the book was incomplete and that many of the documents were not notarized. In the chest they found two leather-bound books containing many papal bulls and privileges for benefices and other documents. These, however, were unauthenticated copies. Ovando then asked to see the inventory of documents that was mandated by the constitutions. Ramos gave him two manuals, one of which had been copied only two years before. The other was a small book that appeared to contain certain documents. Neither manual was notarized or indexed. Ovando then made a detailed examination of the contents of the chest, a task that took him two days. What he found was that many entries were missing and that the various inventories were poorly organized. The financial books were particularly confusing. Some were still in the process of being organized, and Ramos and his councillors claimed that it had never been their duty to do so. Ovando replied by giving them thirty days in which to draw up a detailed, complete, and fully authenticated inventory of all the university’s papers. He also ordered the compilation of a report that would make clear at first reading what goods and properties belonged to the colegio. Another, shorter

THE REFORM OF THE UNIVERSITY OF ALCALÁ DE HENARES

65

book was to list all real property, and a report was to be made to the councillors once a month. Ovando gave detailed instructions on how these were to be prepared and bound, so that they would not be lost. Ovando encountered similar difficulties when he was given a book that contained the names of all the students in the university for the academic year 1564–65. What he received was a small, unpaginated book with numerous erasures. Ovando gave the claustro’s secretary two days to bring him a list of members and officials of the claustro and of all persons at the university, with a declaration of who they were, where they were from, what positions they held, and where they lived, from the year 1551. This was done on 1 October 1564.53 On the same day Ovando began an intensive visit to each of the churches and colegios of the university. He spent three days at the church of San Ildefonso, checking the vestments and furnishings.54 He meticulously checked all vestments against the inventory and noted exactly how many were missing. He inspected the dining room and found that very few items had been entered in the inventory. Consequently, he ordered that the accounts be kept in better order. He also visited the stables, the jail, the wheat storehouse, the barley storehouse, and the student quarters. When he had the money chest in the student section opened, a chest that had eight locks on the outside and three chests on the inside, it was found to contain nothing. So Ovando asked for the account book, only to be told by Ramos and the councillors that such a book had never been seen or heard of. Ovando then asked to see the general inventory of the residence halls and was told that the inventory in his possession was the only one. When he asked to see the ledger of the accounts that were closed at the end of each year, he was again told that no such book existed. He gave the customary order that all these things be brought up to date.55 On 6 October, a Sunday, he went to the colegio of Nuestra Señora la Madre de Dios, where again he found a shortage of the required books. The vice-rector told him that the college was very poor and had too few worldly goods to be concerned about.56 On the same day he visited San Pedro y San Pablo, the Franciscan colegio. The friars had inventories of the goods of the colegio but no copies of the mandates of past visitors and reformers. Ovando ordered that henceforth there should be an annual audit and then went to the colegio of Santa Catalina, which specialized in philosophy. Here the books were apparently in order, and Ovando contented himself with

66

JUAN DE OVANDO

ordering a cataloging system for the library.57 On the following day he went to the colegio of San Isidro, where he also found the books in order. His next stop was the colegio of Santa Balbina, where the colegiales of San Ambrosio also lived after the collapse of part of their residence. Here, again, the books were in order.58 Ovando then visited the colegio of San Dionisio, where he found the books in order but the buildings “in very bad condition[,] . . . old and desolate,” and in need of repair.59 He finished the day’s work by visiting the colegio of San Eugenio, where he found the books in order.60 Ovando interrupted his visits to the various colegios when he learned that elections to certain tenured chairs would begin on 11 October. That afternoon he sat with the rector and councillors during the first part of the public examination of the candidates and then with the examiners of the students who had come to vote. When these examinations ended, he delivered a homily to the entire assembly in which he gave his opinion of the procedure (unfortunately not specified in the documentation) and made some recommendations. During the next two days, he attended the actual voting. On 14 October he attended the public examination of a candidate for the degree of licenciado in arts until 11:30 a.m. Then he and the examiners retired to the rector’s room and discussed the candidate and five or six others. Ovando noted with disapproval that of the five examiners, two or three left without voting so as to attend other examinations.61 On 16 October Ovando attended a first-stage examination (auto de tentativa) in the hall of theology and was displeased to notice that many of the faculty did not stay for the entire process. The voting took place afterward in the rector’s room, though neither Ramos nor the master of ceremonies (bedel) was present.62 On 17 October a new rector was elected, Doctor Andrés Uzquiano de Uzquiano, a priest of the diocese of Calahorra and catedrático of Saint Thomas in the university.63 Five days later Ovando informed him and his councillors of his orders concerning the books of San Ildefonso and their obligation to obey them.64 On 28 October he continued his visitations of the various colegios, beginning with the Colegio Trilingüe. His investigations continued for the next year. The period from January to October 1565 was one of intense work on Ovando’s part. He not only continued his investigation of the financial, administrative, and academic condition of the university but also rewrote

THE REFORM OF THE UNIVERSITY OF ALCALÁ DE HENARES

67

the constitutions and statutes. On 26 February 1565 he informed the rector, councillors, and colegiales that the account books for the finances and real property of the university had not been well kept. He directed them to meet and depute persons to lay legal claim to all buildings, orchards, lands, mills, and other possessions of the colegio, especially any that were connected with benefices, and ascertain their value.65 On 14 March 1565 Ovando reported to the rector and his councillors about the financial situation of the university. His conclusion was that the university’s money was passing through too many hands. He gave orders that the constitutions were to be followed in financial matters and that no unauthorized person inside or outside the colegio should intrude into them. He then defined a procedure to be followed in the care of finances and records.66 On 17 March he issued orders that the treasurer and various majordomos were to give a full accounting of their accounts each year on the feast of Saint Luke (18 October), just after the election of a new rector.67 On 21 March he reissued the order but provided penalties of deprivation of office and expulsion from the colegio for those who violated the constitutions in financial matters and added further instructions on the proper handling of money.68 In April and June he issued detailed instructions to the majordomos about keeping their accounts.69 Not all the university’s financial problems were the result of careless bookkeeping. Ovando charged at least two officials, one of them a canon of the university church and visitador of the colegio, with shortages in their accounts. Both men were fined.70 He blamed this situation on the lack of vigilance by the rector and councillors. In September and October 1565 Ovando made second visitations to the colegios that he had already visited a year before. In most of these cases he seems to have been interested in getting an updated list of the students.71 Beginning in October, he, or his helpers, interviewed individual faculty members. One purpose of these interviews was to learn how much the average faculty member knew about the history and functioning of the university. In general, the questions followed closely those in the royal commission to Ovando.72 One problem that emerged during these later investigations was the tense relationship between the university and the town of Alcalá de Henares, particularly with regard to the students’ exemption from local civil justice. Like other major universities in Spain, the personnel and grounds of the university were autonomous, which led to a long history of

68

JUAN DE OVANDO

town and gown conflicts. The townspeople quickly seized the opportunity offered by Ovando’s visitation to present their cases against the university’s exemption from civil justice. In September 1565 Juan de Medimilla, the city’s representative (procurador), entered a long list of complaints about the lawlessness of the students, resulting in “many deaths” and scandals, and the lack of judges and peace officers in the university.74 He cited as a typical act of vandalism the fact that some students had broken open the city gates when they had been walled up because of an epidemic. He asked Ovando to allow the city government to take action against students for these and other crimes. The university’s exemption was vigorously defended by Martín de Zavarte, a síndico (an official who acted on behalf of the university), who wrote that the city officials had no right to intrude into the university’s jurisdiction.75 He claimed that the city officials knew nothing of what was going on in the university and that many crimes were actually committed by townspeople and then blamed on the students. He denied Medimilla’s claim that there was insufficient justice within the university. He even rejected Ovando’s right to hear any cases involving university personnel because he did not have a specific commission for it.76 Despite Zavarte’s claim that Ovando had judicial authority, Ovando was besieged by aggrieved parties who demanded justice. These included claimants who had not been awarded chairs and candidates who had failed to receive scholarships (becas). The local Franciscans complained that when the university was founded, Cisneros had been allowed to take over a hall they owned on condition that the Franciscan students be allowed to attend lectures there. The hall had recently collapsed, together with part of their house, and the rector and councillors were refusing to rebuild it. Ovando found in favor of the Franciscans, though the administration of the colegio appealed.77 One catedrático complained that his commentary on Aristotle’s Physics was no longer required reading for the students.78 Musicians and notaries asked for salary increases, and the grandson of an early faculty member, the great Spanish lexicographer Antonio de Nebrija, wanted to know why a special burial place and anniversary mass for his grandfather had not been implemented, as decreed by the rector and councillors in 1522.79 The sheer volume of these papers is staggering, and one wonders how Ovando, even with the help of Vázquez and Carrillo, was able to deal with them all.80

THE REFORM OF THE UNIVERSITY OF ALCALÁ DE HENARES

69

REVISING THE CONSTITUTIONS Ovando’s most pressing task, and ultimately his most lasting achievement, was the complete revision of the university’s constitutions and statutes. The process was a difficult one, not least because there was no way of knowing with certainty what the original constitutions and statutes were. When Ovando began his reform, there were three handwritten versions of the constitutions and seven printed ones. Since the latter lacked all authorization, Ovando had to work from the manuscripts. The various versions contained substantial differences. The magnitude of Ovando’s task can best be seen in the fact that a modern scholar, after a minute investigation of the versions of the constitutions, has called them “an insoluble problem of historical textual identification.”81 On 12 May 1565 Ovando addressed the claustro pleno of the university, telling them to meet again on the following day and elect representatives to meet with him for the purpose of examining and revising the constitutions and statutes.82 Representatives were elected from the faculties of theology, canon law, medicine, and languages. Perhaps because of his own academic background, Ovando was following a far less authoritarian course than he had as provisor of Seville. He assured all the personnel of the university that their opinions would be respected, and he was faithful to his word. Most of what Ovando did was in the nature of specifying what was unclear and eliminating loopholes. There were some disagreements since the faculty was more inclined to abide by the original constitutions. There was only one major conflict over procedure, however, and Ovando yielded on that issue. He refused to budge only on the question of limpieza de sangre, which some faculty members were reluctant to agree to. On 11 July the representatives met with Ovando at his lodgings. He informed them that after all the meetings and interviews, he had drawn up the results in the form of statutes that paralleled the titles and materials of Cisneros’s fundamental constitutions. In reality what he presented was his own work, based on his findings in the reform. He expressed his hope that they would agree to his ideas but that he would remove whatever they did not approve. He then read the entire body of materials to them, something that must have taken considerable time. After that he opened the floor to suggestions. In cases of disagreement, a vote was taken and the

70

JUAN DE OVANDO

results appended to the end of each chapter. When any item was removed, the opinions of the representatives, or at least of a majority, were added.83 The full claustro met for a week, from 21 to 28 August 1565. Those present listened to the reading of the changes and additions to the constitutions and discussed them in painstaking detail.84 Ovando opened the meetings by discussing the discrepancies among the various copies of the constitutions and the confusions that had been added by an accumulation of orders and reforms in the years since 1517. He and the claustro then proceeded to a consideration of individual changes. In the majority of cases the claustro had few major recommendations. The entire process seems to have gone rather smoothly, and Ovando maintained his conciliatory approach. One issue that surfaced was that of unblemished lineage. First of all, this meant legitimacy. Neither the original constitutions nor any of the subsequent additions required that the colegiales of San Ildefonso be of legitimate birth. Title 7 was now amended to read that only legitimate sons of a legitimate marriage could be admitted.85 Possibly thinking of his own family background, Ovando suggested to the claustro that an illegitimate son who had been legitimated according to law should be allowed to be a candidate for the licenciado. The claustro rejected the proposal.86 The real question of lineage, of course, centered on limpieza de sangre. Cisneros had avoided this issue in the original constitutions. Although the colegio mayor of San Ildefonso adopted a statute of limpieza on 9 August 1519, subsequently approved by Pope Clement VII in 1525, there is room to doubt that it was systematically implemented.87 When in 1547 Archbishop Martínez Silíceo of Toledo enacted his ordinance of limpieza for the cathedral chapter of Toledo and obtained the approval of that body for it, the university sent the dean of the chapter an open letter condemning it.88 The move in favor of such statutes for the university seems to have been strongest in the school of theology. On 21 September 1560 a statute was unanimously enacted by the theology faculty that declared that no one was to be admitted to the degree of licenciado “without a previous investigation as to whether he is an Old Christian, free of any race of Moors, Jews, and conversos, and that neither he nor any of his parents or grandparents or great-grandparents, on either the father’s or mother’s side, have received penances from the Holy Inquisition nor made infamous by any other justice.”89 The statute also included those who were to hold chairs in theology in the university. The statute was approved by the Council of

THE REFORM OF THE UNIVERSITY OF ALCALÁ DE HENARES

71

Castile and signed by the king on 21 June 1561.90 There may well have been a popular belief that the university was a refuge for conversos, and there is the possibility that the earliest known rector, Pedro de Santa Cruz, was a converso. The statute, however, was still restricted to the school of theology. The additions to the constitutions in this regard were undoubtedly initiated by Ovando, who was a firm supporter of the statutes of limpieza, but they were also approved by the claustro. From this time on, no one could be a colegial or major or minor chaplain of San Ildefonso who was the son or descendant of a Jew, Moor, converso, pagan, heretic, or a person made infamous by the Inquisition. If such a person was discovered to have been admitted to the colegio, he was to be expelled immediately.91 The statute was extended so that even servants and those who testified on behalf of candidates had to be Old Christians.92 The strongest statement was placed among the qualifications for a candidate for the licenciado in theology. It substantially repeated the statute of 1560.93 Like the statute of 1560, Ovando’s original proposal had included civil as well as inquisitorial justice, but this was voted out by the theology faculty.94 There was a strong opinion among the representatives that the statute should be moderated, but the majority of the theology faculty favored it. The statute was extended to include the faculty of canon law, but in more general terms: “no one who is infamous or the son of a recent convert on either the father’s or mother’s side.”95 It seems that the matter still met opposition. In the claustro pleno of 5 October 1565, Ovando made reference to “the second proposal that was made in the preceding claustro about the statute of limpieza which those who are to be licenciados in theology should have.”96 The preceding claustro took place on 1 October and dealt with the provision of prebends in San Ildefonso.97 From what can be reconstructed of the meeting, it appears that some faculty members objected to the statute on the grounds that it was a novelty. Ovando “in view of the fact that the statute [of 1560], having been confirmed by His Majesty, has the force of law, ordered that there be no more discussion of the said proposal unless the claustro unanimously and without any dissenting vote decides otherwise.”98 There is no evidence that the matter was pursued. Ovando’s impact was stronger and more positive in other areas of the university’s life and administration. In accordance with his commission from the king, he drew up a complex and detailed set of regulations for the

72

JUAN DE OVANDO

election of regents and lecturers for the various chairs. Whereas Title 35 of the constitutions had insisted on the qualities of the candidates, Ovando emphasized efficient and honest processes, including such matters as time limits, the method of voting, and the role of the rector. However, his wish to detail the precise level of academic degree that a candidate should have was overruled by the deputies and claustro, who were inclined toward more leniency in this regard. As in other cases, the claustro tended to favor the original constitutions, saying that anyone who met the qualifications demanded therein should be allowed to compete.99 Ovando also increased the salaries of all faculty members. The precise amount to be paid to the faculty had not been specified in the original constitutions. Ovando’s increases were not immediately approved by the claustro. Some voted for them only on condition that the university had sufficient revenues: others voted against them on the grounds that it did not.100 Even more important as a lasting contribution to the university was Ovando’s additions to and rearrangement of the chairs in the various faculties, including a detailed specification of the course of studies, the materials to be covered by each chair within a certain period, and even the texts that were to be used. The new arrangement was based on the needs of the university and the students, the availability of funds, and also on a desire to increase enrollment by offering a more varied program.101 In the school of theology Title 43 of Cisneros’s original constitutions had established three principal chairs, Thomism, Scotism, and Nominalism, which represented competing schools of theology “for our common tolerance.” Catedráticos had been required to lecture twice a day.102 Ovando’s reform called for one lecture a day but compensated by creating three lesser chairs. The second lecture on Thomism was replaced by the lesser chair of Thomism, but the second lecture on Scotism was replaced by a lesser chair of Durandus (ca. 1275–1334, a Dominican theologian who was neither Thomist nor Nominalist but whose thought was often associated with the latter). The Nominalist chair (also called the chair of Gabriel) lost a second lecture, which was replaced by one on Aristotle’s Ethics, Economics, and Politics.103 All five chairs of theology had to use the Sentences of Peter Lombard, but the chairs of Scotism, Nominalism, and Durandism were specifically required to cover the entire text in the course of four years.104 The chair of Scripture, which seems to have been a lesser one, was raised to the status of principal chair.105

THE REFORM OF THE UNIVERSITY OF ALCALÁ DE HENARES

73

The materials and order of study in the school of theology were drawn up by the deputies and approved by the claustro, with Ovando’s concurrence. The chair of Thomism had as its principal text Aquinas’s Summa Theologiae. Both the principal and lesser chairs were to lecture on it. The arrangement was such that the professor was sure to cover all the material during the course of the academic year rather than emphasize some parts and hurry over others.106 The professors were to read the texts of both Lombard and their authors integrally, not just give summaries.107 Dates were established for covering each part of the course; however, if these dates turned out to be unrealistic, the faculty could change them.108 Ovando also expanded other faculties. He established two new principal chairs and two lesser chairsof canon law. There were now six chairs of canon law, the same number as systematic theology. Two new chairs of Greek, apparently intended for beginners, were added to the one envisioned by Title 58 of the original constitutions, and the text was specified.109 Two additional chairs of Hebrew, one principal and one lesser, were established. The text was to be the grammar of Nicolas Clénard (Cleynaerts) of Louvain (1495–1542), or a better one, if such could be found.110 If any students wished to delve more deeply into Hebrew, the professor was obliged to lecture on an unpointed text (i.e., one without vowel markings) to be chosen by the rector and his councillors.111 Ovando devoted a great deal of time and attention to the school of medicine. Title 49 of the original constitutions had established two chairs of medicine to be held by “two physicians of great learning and mature experience.” One was to teach Avicenna, the other Hippocrates and Galen, each course lasting two years.112 The constitutions specified nothing further about the content of the courses. As he had done in the school of theology, Ovando restricted the principal chairs to one lecture a day and established two lesser chairs, one of them in anatomy.113 Perhaps with the help of the medical faculty, Ovando went far beyond the original constitutions and listed the readings and subjects that the aspiring physician had to master. Unfortunately, these are difficult to reconstruct with complete accuracy because the scribe who copied the titles clearly had difficulty with the unfamiliar Latin terms and erased and rewrote them numerous times.114 Certainly recognizable is the first book of Hippocrates’ Prognostics. Other works dealt with such subjects as bloodletting, pulse taking, symptoms and diseases, and simple medicines. In all these embraced seven courses.

74

JUAN DE OVANDO

The course in anatomy was to last two years. The first year was dedicated to the study of bones and the dissection of extremities, arteries, veins, and muscles and the use of medical instruments. From 1 November until the following April, the coldest part of the year, the students were required to dissect a human body every two weeks, if one was available.115 A royal order of 4 April 1559 had specified that the cadavers of those executed for crimes or who died in the hospitals of the city were to be given to the medical school for dissection.116 Bachelor’s degree holders in medicine were also required to accompany a doctor or licenciado of the medical faculty for two years.117 Originally, the chair of arts envisioned by Cisneros included a comprehensive course in philosophy. Ovando’s reform resulted in three chairs of rhetoric, two of Hebrew and one of mathematics.118 There was also a detailed description of how the lecturer was to teach his class.119 Included in the arts were courses on mathematics and astronomy. The basic authors in mathematics were Ptolemy and Aristotle. If, however, some students were able enough and requested additional lessons in “speculative astrology,” they could study in the Almagest of Ptolemy or the works of Copernicus, provided that they did not miss regular classes.120 Ovando’s reform offers fascinating insights into the day-by-day functioning of the university. His disciplinary provisions were more draconian than Cisneros’s. The latter’s constitutions specified that any chaplain or colegial who spent the night outside the colegio was to punished for the first offense with three days of bread and water, for the second with a deprivation of a month’s income, and for the third expulsion. Ovando ruled that anyone in San Ildefonso who went outside after the door was locked in the evening was to be expelled immediately. Any outsider caught inside the colegio after the door was closed was to spend six days in chains in the colegio’s jail for the first offense, with the sentence doubling for each subsequent transgression.121 When Ovando began his reform there was already a schedule of holidays. There were two school calendars, one for the students in arts and one for the schools of theology, canon law, and medicine. The rationale was that the younger students in arts had to be kept busy because of their natural propensity to vanity and idleness. Consequently, their calendar provided less free time than did the other. Holidays were divided into two classes according to the classic scholastic qualifications simpliciter (in the

THE REFORM OF THE UNIVERSITY OF ALCALÁ DE HENARES

75

full sense of the term) and secundum quid (after a fashion or in a qualified sense). On the former the regents were not required to lecture at all; on the latter they had to give one lecture in the afternoon. There were ten holidays simpliciter. Twelve specified days, plus all Sundays and feasts established by the archdiocese of Toledo, were holidays secundum quid. The list of holidays that emerged from Ovando’s reform was considerably augmented. For the arts, the number of holidays simpliciter was raised to an astounding thirty-one (seven movable and twenty-four immovable feasts). The holidays secundum quid were thirteen, plus all Sundays of the year and the Thursday of any week that did not have a holiday. Whereas Sundays were feasts secundum quid for the lecturers in arts and grammar, they were simpliciter for all the faculties in theology, medicine, and canon law. Holidays secundum quid for all faculties without exception were Ash Wednesday, the Wednesday after Easter, All Souls Day (1 November), and the day in honor of Cardinal Cisneros (16 November). The summer vacation was relatively brief, 11 July to 24 August. Although the grant of holidays seems generous, it is in line with the number of feast days in Spanish society at that time. In general, classes were held from 7:00 to 11:00 a.m. and from 1:00 to 5:00 p.m. During the summer, the schedule was moved forward an hour in the morning and back an hour in the afternoon. The most detailed description of a daily schedule is found in a proposal for the school of arts that Ovando presented to the claustro pleno. The regent was to spend one hour lecturing (7:00 to 8:00 a.m.) and then leave the classroom, shutting the door so that no student could leave. The students were expected to spend that time discussing the lecture. At 9:00 a.m. the regent returned, answered any questions and doubts that had arisen, and gave a second lecture, repeating the process of shutting the students in. From 12:00 to 1:00 p.m. he gave a review (reparación) of the morning’s lecture. The entire process was repeated through the afternoon until 6:00 p.m. The claustro voted against having the regent shut the students in the classroom and in favor of retaining the old complutense tradition of having the regent “go to the post.”122 There was only one area in which Ovando seems to have encountered a major challenge from the claustro. In the claustro pleno of 5 October 1565, Ovando discussed in great detail the problems involved in the conflicting and overlapping jurisdictions within the university. Those who were supposed to give judicial decisions found themselves in a statute of “mutual

76

JUAN DE OVANDO

and reciprocal subjection.”123 Everyone involved in elections or examinations found himself either in debt to or subject to another person, with the result that the entire process had degenerated into a political system of mutual patronage and favoritism. When he presented his proposals for remedying this situation, he also specified that there was to be a secret vote and prior public discussion. The votes were to be given to his secretary and Ovando would make the results known. On 7 October a group of faculty, led by Doctor Hernando de Balbás, the chancellor of the university and dean of the school of theology, lodged a protest with Uzquiano and requested a meeting of the claustro to deal with the question.124 The claustro met and after lengthy discussion voted in favor of discussion and public vote. Ovando accepted the decision, and the question was settled.125

OVANDO’S REFORMS IN PERSPECTIVE What impact did Ovando’s reforms have on the university? Perhaps a more important question would be whether his reforms marked a move away from the original spirit of the university’s founder. González Navarro is of the opinion that by Ovando’s time, Cisneros’s original vision had been altered, especially as a result of increased royal control.126 On the other hand, Martín Esperanza, rector of the university in 1805, wrote a glowing account of Ovando’s work, speaking of his “immortal statutes” and the “grandeur of his reform.”127 For Esperanza, all subsequent reforms were merely variations on Ovando’s work. Most authors, for example, Joaquín de Entrambasaguas and Luis Alonso Muñoyerro, see the decline of the university as having become clear in the seventeenth century, in part because of the reforms of the Bourbon monarchs.128 In the sense that the king as patron was beginning to overshadow all other patrons and that royal authority, especially as exercised through the Council of Castile, was being thoroughly established as dominant at the university, González Navarro is correct. However, this did not occur until the seventeenth century. In 1618 the council assumed the right to have the annual visita made by one of its members.129 In 1672, in a final turnabout, the study of civil law was introduced at the request of the university itself. The school of medicine lost prestige, and eventually both mathematics and theology disappeared from the curriculum. By a royal order of 21 February 1777, Charles III removed the governance of the university from the colegio

THE REFORM OF THE UNIVERSITY OF ALCALÁ DE HENARES

77

mayor of San Ildefonso and separated the rectorships.130 Henceforth the university was no different from any other in Spain. In 1836, in the final period of its decline, the university was removed to Madrid. In terms of the academic program and the rules of the various colegios, however, Ovando’s reforms were very much in accord with Cisneros’s original version. The one exception to this is the emphasis on limpieza de sangre, but this emphasis had first begun to be felt before Ovando’s time and within the university itself, specifically, within the school of theology. Ovando’s work was complex, but the consistent theme was expanding the academic offerings of the university and clarifying those procedures that were vague or obscure in the constitutions. Additional chairs were set up in almost every faculty. The greatest expansion was to be found in theology, canon law, and medicine. Perhaps because medicine had been the least specified by Cisneros, it received a major share of Ovando’s attention, especially the study of anatomy. His reforms in the medical school were broad and farsighted. In the school of theology the diversity foreseen by Cisneros was allowed to remain. The aspiring theologian could choose from among competing schools: Thomism, Scotism, Durandism, and Nominalism. The latter school is perhaps the most remarkable because of its popular association with the thought of Martin Luther. It was also the most popular. The study of Copernicus was an elective in the arts curriculum, and no objections were raised.131 The biblical emphasis also remained, with the study of Hebrew given special encouragement. However, Cisneros’s original intention to found a chair of Arabic, which had never been implemented, seems not to have been seriously considered. It should also be noted that Ovando’s reforms encountered little opposition from the faculty. On the contrary, there seems to have been a spirit of cooperation, unusual in any academic setting, and an acknowledgment that his work was not undermining the distinctive nature of the university. The same can also be said of the clarification of procedures for elections and the financial operations of the university. What is clear is the theological pluralism and vitality of the university, as opposed to the popular picture of a closed, obscurantist society. In summary, Ovando’s work at the University of Alcalá de Henares was an accommodation of the founder’s original vision to a changed world but an accommodation that was faithful to the original. It was also one of the major accomplishments of Ovando’s life.

78

JUAN DE OVANDO

MOVING ON On 1 May 1565 Ovando called a claustro pleno to inform the faculties of his departure for Madrid.132 Whether he actually went is not known. He still had a major portion of his work ahead of him. Three months later, when Ovando, in the midst of all his other activities, was arranging to purchase a mule for Diego de Espinosa, word arrived that Espinosa had been named president of the Council of Castile. Mateo Vázquez wrote a hurried letter of congratulations to the future cardinal and immediately offered to enter his service.133 Ovando followed this almost immediately with an enthusiastic recommendation for Vázquez. He also expressed his concern for Archbishop Valdés’s health and asked Espinosa if he should make a special journey to see the ailing prelate.134 In September Ovando planned to go to Madrid to ask Espinosa about a position, but the death of a near relative prevented him.135 On 9 October 1565 he dispatched a kinsman, frey Diego de Ovando, to carry a report on the reform to the president of the Council of Castile. He wrote to Vázquez, who had entered Cardinal Espinosa’s service in Madrid in September, of his desire to finish the reform and his discomfort at not receiving a salary from his posts in Seville.136 As he pointed out, however, no matter what the cost he could not fail in the work that had been entrusted to him.137 This was literally true, because until the day of his death Ovando had not been paid for his services as reformer.138 Six days later Ovando repeated his protest that he had no other thought than the service of God and king, but he was also growing more anxious to leave Alcalá de Henares. He asked Vázquez to help Nicolás de Ovando (who had also entered Espinosa’s service) find him lodging in Madrid.139 Despite his wish to leave, however, he tarried in Alcalá to see how well his reforms were being observed and also to audit the financial records for the previous academic year.140 Perhaps another reason was his desire to frustrate an effort by the rector and councillors to be involved in the process of approbation by the Council of Castile. On 30 October 1565 Philip II wrote to them that he had heard that reform would soon be finished and that they had named or wanted to name persons to come to court to be present when the visita was seen. He instructed them not to. By January 1566 Ovando was back in Seville, where he took up residence with the Inquisition and on 6 January resumed the office of provisor.

THE REFORM OF THE UNIVERSITY OF ALCALÁ DE HENARES

79

As he wrote to Vázquez, “You know how I hate to be idle.”141 He was also anticipating a call from Cardinal Espinosa. The call came toward the end of the month when Espinosa ordered the Council of Castile to take up consideration of the reform and that Ovando come to participate. Ovando left Seville for a new career on 25 January 1566.142

CHAPTER FIVE

The Council of the Supreme and General Inquisition

O

n 11 December 1566 Juan de Ovando became a member of the Supreme and General Council of the Inquisition,1 the most powerful, controversial, and reviled institution in Spanish history. It was one that he believed in and that opened to him the road of advancement to higher positions. On 1 November 1478 Pope Sixtus IV signed the bull Exigit sincerae devotionis affectus (A Feeling of Sincere Devotion Demands), which granted to the Catholic Monarchs the right to appoint two or three bishops or priests to act as inquisitors in the cities and dioceses of Spain.2 This simple concession marked the beginning of the three and a half centuries of the Spanish Inquisition. It was a striking move away from established Spanish tradition. There had never been an Inquisition in Castile, and the Roman Inquisition, which had functioned in Aragon, was all but dead.3 Although the Inquisition was popularly regarded as a Castilian invention, Fernando of Aragon may have played a crucial role in its development.4 There is also a possibility that the Inquisition was originally regarded as a crisis measure rather than a permanent institution.5 Once established, however, it spread throughout Spain and became permanent. Even more than the other bureaucracies on the peninsula, the Inquisition tended to expand its authority beyond its original limitations. It was the only authority, outside that of the monarchs themselves, that was universal throughout the Spanish territories. In fact, there seems to have been little genuine heresy in Spain.6 The Inquisition had no authority over non-Christians. Its raison d’être was the

THE COUNCIL OF THE SUPREME AND GENERAL INQUISITION

81

large number of recent converts to Catholicism whose sincerity and devotion to their new faith were suspect.7 The Inquisition did not begin to function until 1480, and then only in Seville, but within ten years there were branches throughout Castile. The Roman Inquisition continued briefly in Aragon, but because it was under papal, not royal, control it was united to that of Castile in 1483 under the direction of the Dominican Tomás de Torquemada (1420–98), who may have been of converso extraction.8 In effect he became the first Inquisitor General, the only person besides the monarchs whose authority extended to all of Spain.9 In 1483 he established the appellate council commonly called the Suprema. It originally consisted of a president and three members. This was followed by the formulation of the ordinances of the Inquisition, which would be revised many times in the succeeding years. These laid down the basic procedures that the tribunal would follow throughout its existence. The period of Torquemada’s ascendancy was characterized by a fanatical campaign against crypto-Jews.10 Ovando said of him, “Because he was a poor friar he was the best Inquisitor General there ever was.”11 Torquemada’s successors were bishops. The first was Diego de Deza (1498–1507), archbishop of Seville, whom Ovando regarded as a good archbishop because he resided in his archdiocese.12 This, however, militated against his being a good inquisitor “and so everything was done and administered by Dominican friars, and they carried out the processes without any order, which caused astonishment because of the readiness with which they burned people.”13 Cisneros was inquisitor of Castile in 1507–17 (another person held the post for the rest of Spain). He was succeeded by Alonso Manrique, archbishop of Seville (1523–38), whose devotion to his archdiocese caused him to neglect the work of the Inquisition.14 He was also a humanist with marked Erasmian tendencies whose fall from royal favor in 1529 was a setback for the Erasmians.15 The most vigorous period of the Inquisition was from 1480 to about 1530.16 In the first decades of the sixteenth century the Inquisition spread its net to include alumbrados and Erasmians. Both groups sought a simpler, less externalized route to God and spirituality. The followers of Desiderius Erasmus of Rotterdam (1466?–1536) preferred ethical to doctrinal Christianity and wanted to return Catholicism to the simplicity of the early church. They were critical of clericalism, monks, and many devotional practices, such

82

JUAN DE OVANDO

as pilgrimages and indulgences. Erasmianism in Spain reached its high point around 1527, at the very time that the Inquisition was moving against it. Manrique’s disgrace was the beginning of the first period of repression.17 Although the campaign did not last long, it left lingering damage and would be repeated in the future. By 1527 the structure and operation of the Inquisition had settled into the pattern that would characterize it for the next three centuries.18 At the top stood the Suprema, with the president, or Inquisitor General, as the chief officer (there was never any such title as Grand Inquisitor) and about six members. The Inquisitor General was nominated by the king and appointed by the pope. After the Council of Castile, the Suprema was the most independent and powerful of the royal councils. Yet it was simultaneously a religious tribunal that inherited the laws and procedures of the medieval Roman Inquisition. It was also responsible for the prosecution of heresy, by its nature a crime against the church but also one against the state. The Inquisitor General, one of the highest posts in Spain, was appointed by the king. As one historian has observed, it had two faces as inseparable as those on a coin.19 In the earlier period of the Inquisition the accused often appealed to the pope against their arrest or sentence, something that the crown increasingly tried to prevent.20 Below the Suprema and subject to it were the various local tribunals whose inquisitors were appointed by the Inquisitor General. By the early 1560s the district tribunals had become more independent, which Espinosa attempted to curb. On the local level there were usually two or three inquisitors, an assessor (calificador, a theologian whose duty it was to evaluate writings and propositions for heresy), lawyers, a constable (alguacil), a prosecutor (fiscal), and lay assistants (familiares). The latter, more or less equivalent to Inquisition police, were sometimes local dignataries or first citizens appointed to their posts by way of honor. The introduction of the Inquisition into a district or an outburst of inquisitorial activity was usually preceded by an edict of grace, which allowed people to accuse themselves before the Holy Office took action. Arrests were usually made at night, adding to the fear surrounding the tribunal. Victims often disappeared for a number of years, without friends or relatives having any sure indication of what happened. Those arrested were allowed to write out lists of their enemies who may have accused them, since most arrests resulted from denunciations. The accused were

THE COUNCIL OF THE SUPREME AND GENERAL INQUISITION

83

not allowed time to prepare statements or answers to questions. Torture could in theory be applied only once, but this was circumvented by the technicality of dividing the single torture period. In the use and severity of judicial torture, the Inquisition was not appreciably different from civil tribunals.21 Condemnation could entail a number of penalties, ranging from spiritual penances and imprisonment in religious houses to flogging and the galleys.22 Death was administered only when a person relapsed into heresy or proved contumacious. Because church courts could not impose a penalty that involved the shedding of blood or bodily mutilation, those condemned to capital punishment were “remanded to the secular arm,” that is, turned over to the civil authorities. Burning at the stake was the form of death penalty inflicted, but if the individual showed signs of repentance at the end, he or she might be strangled first. Sentences were imposed during an elaborate ceremony called the auto de fe (act of faith). The condemned wore a special chasuble-like garment called a sambenito. Another important function of the Inquisition was vigilance over books and publications, including religious art. As experience had shown during the German Reformation, books, pamphlets, woodcuts, and broadsides were effective means of transmitting heterodox ideas. Since southern France was a center for Calvinist activity, the northern border of Spain became a concern of the tribunal.23 In contrast to the Roman Inquisition, however, that of Spain rarely involved itself with scientific matters. The heliocentric theory did not concern the inquisitors, as is apparent in Ovando’s reform of the University of Alcalá de Henares. Galileo’s works were never placed on the Spanish Inquisition’s index.24 The Spanish Inquisition had a skeptical attitude toward witchcraft, which it commonly regarded as a delusion. In 1526 a junta was convened at Granada to decide what should be done about witches in the FrancoNavarre region. The Erasmian members and two bishops were convinced that there were in fact witches who attended the Sabbath, whereas the others (including Fernando de Valdés) believed that these things existed only in the imaginations of the accused. The first opinion was adopted by a majority of one. While not denying witchcraft, the panel enacted enlightened procedures that prevented witch-hunts and hysteria.25 The renewal of interest in witchcraft in Europe beginning about 1550 met with skepticism by the Inquisition, especially the Suprema. In addition, the Inquisition tried

84

JUAN DE OVANDO

to take cases of witchcraft out of the jurisdiction of ordinary justice, both civil and ecclesiastical.26 The Spanish Inquisition, however, did intrude into areas other than heresy, specifically, moral lapses such as bigamy and blasphemy. The case of sodomy was more complex. According to William Monter, the Inquisition in Aragon took jurisdiction over cases of sodomy while Castile consistently refused. Prosecutions rarely involved consenting adults; sodomy was viewed in terms of adults and adolescents and involved consummated anal intercourse. It retained its competence in those areas throughout most of its history, although trials for sodomy declined in the seventeenth century.27 The Holy Office was supported by goods confiscated from those condemned for various offenses. This meant that its financial stability was in direct proportion to the number of persons it arrested and condemned, hardly an incentive for the impartial administration of justice. As a financial base, it proved insufficient, and so the practice grew of uniting various prebends or canonries to the Inquisition.28 The diocesan clergy who were also candidates for these positions resented this, and the result was a large number of lawsuits.29 Thus the inquisitors gained positions in cathedral and collegiate chapters and used the income to supplement their somewhat meager salaries. In addition, the Holy Office derived income from censos, or investment income. The Inquisition never held much real property, and its finances were always precarious. Not surprisingly, corruption proved an endemic problem. Greed was not the only source of excess. A lust for power and intemperate zeal in ferreting out heresy sometimes played equal or larger roles.30 The Inquisition to which Torquemada gave form met opposition. The concept of capital punishment for heresy is not only repugnant to modern minds; it was equally so to many Spaniards of the fifteenth century. Its procedures ran counter to traditional Spanish concepts of justice. Objections were raised to the secrecy of proceedings and the inability of the accused to confront witnesses.31 In addition to being viewed in Aragon as an alien institution, the Inquisition was seen as a threat to Spanish rights and liberties.32 The various provinces and kingdoms of Spain resisted the intrusion of the Inquisition into their traditional rights, or fueros. Often this required the Suprema to enter into concordias, or jurisdictional agreements, with local cortes and civil governments.33 Opposition was also expressed through conspiracies, riots, pressures brought by special interests, and even attempts

THE COUNCIL OF THE SUPREME AND GENERAL INQUISITION

85

on the lives of the personnel. Ultimately the objections had little impact, although some of the realms on the peninsula were able to force changes through the practice of concordias. In late 1563 Philip had to face attacks on the Inquisition in the cortes of Aragon.34 The Aragonese nobility were angry over the Inquisition’s moves against the Moriscos under their authority.35 Although Philip tried to prevent any discussion of the matter, he eventually had to take notice of the complaints, and in 1568 he allowed some limitations on the Inquisition’s authority in Aragon. There were also attacks on the Inquisition in Murcia and Mallorca in 1568 and in Valencia in 1567. There was even stronger opposition in Cataluña in 1569.36 One of the worst aspects of the Inquisition, and one that was particularly galling to Spanish traditionalists, was the concept of infamy. Condemnation by the Holy Office was something that was never really expunged. In some ways it was logical that a person condemned by the Holy Office should be considered notorious. This stain, however, remained throughout his life and was passed down to his descendants. The sambenito was permanently displayed in the local church so that the infamy passed to succeeding generations. From an early period, condemnation of an ancestor by the Holy Office contaminated a family’s limpieza de sangre. In some cases arrest and prolonged imprisonment preceded the actual investigative process, resulting in financial loss or ruin for the persons arrested. The abuses and corruption associated with the Holy Office aroused protests. The exemptions and immunities enjoyed by Inquisition officials were resented. The familiares were controversial, both because of their exemption from civil law and because of their association with corruption.37 According to Stephen Haliczer, “[H]atred for the Inquisition ran deep, and it was constantly forced to protect itself and its agents from verbal and physical attack.”38 Well into the sixteenth century there were calls for reform, particularly of the policy of total secrecy, but most of these failed because of the strong position of the inquisitors and the attitude of the crown itself. Early in its history the Inquisition became a training ground for royal civil servants. It was one of the ways that a letrado could advance in the royal service or become a bishop. For that reason inquisitorial posts, especially on the Suprema, were prizes to be coveted and pursued. Terms of service were relatively short, often no more than four or six years. Inquisitors could expect to become bishops or be advanced, like Ovando, to important royal

86

JUAN DE OVANDO

councils. Monter has shown that these men “were famous for their learning and capable of filling top posts in various branches of royal government” and in an apt phrase called them “interchangeable careerists.”39 During the reign of Philip II, the Inquisition received consistent royal protection and favor. The king was dedicated to the preservation of the Holy Office and would accept no criticism of it or efforts to diminish its authority. Whatever his feelings about religious toleration in other countries, Philip was determined that there would be no room for heterodoxy in Spain or its dependencies. In addition to his religious feelings, the king was influenced by his conviction that heresy went hand in hand with rebellion and civil disorder, and, with memories of the comuneros ever fresh in his mind, he regarded rebellion with a special horror.40 In Fernando de Valdés he found the ideal instrument for this task. On 23 January 1547 Pope Paul III named Valdés archbishop of Seville and Inquisitor General Apostolic against Heretical Depravity and Apostasy.41 His appointment marked a sharp change in Inquisition policies as the tribunal entered its second period of ferocity. Valdés was essentially an ecclesiastical careerist who used his various positions for personal advancement, and he exploited the crown’s genuine fear of heresy as a means of rescuing his own career. During his term, which lasted until 1566, the Inquisition renewed its campaign against the remnants of Erasmianism and the alumbrados in Spain. The cases of Egidio, Constantino, and Archbishop Carranza of Toledo became symbolic of this repression. Because of this campaign a whole generation of spiritual writers and thinkers came under suspicion.42 Even after his retirement Charles V remained involved in his son’s policies, frequently sending advice, memoranda, and recommendations. On 25 May 1558, from his place of retirement at Yuste, he wrote a letter urging stronger moves against Lutherans.43 Perhaps this grew out of his experience in the Holy Roman Empire, or perhaps it was the result of his increasing religiosity. In addition, the Catholic Reformation, sparked by the Council of Trent and the work of reforming popes, was beginning to make an impact on the Catholic world. Whatever the reason, Philip II was only too ready and willing to take his revered father’s advice to heart. Charles’s letter coincided with the discovery in 1557–58 of a group of alleged Lutherans in Valladolid and Seville. This discovery, which gave rise to wild rumors about the dangers of Protestantism in Spain, provided Valdés with an

THE COUNCIL OF THE SUPREME AND GENERAL INQUISITION

87

opportunity to extricate himself from the difficult position to which his follies had led him. Because he was still in danger of losing royal favor, he began to exploit the cases of the Seville Lutherans and Archbishop Carranza. He presented the crown with an alarming picture of heterodox opinion on the loose throughout Castile and urged that the Inquisition be put in charge of investigating it.44 Philip agreed and urged his sister, Princess Juana, to use all methods necessary to uproot heresy.45 The regent did as her brother and father wished, and with the help of Valdés a number of new regulations were issued, including a law on censorship. In May 1559 an auto de fe was held in Valladolid, the prelude to many others. Among the condemned was Agustín Cazalla, who had been in the Netherlands with the king and was a noted preacher. Philip himself returned in time to attend another auto in Valladolid in October 1559. Though the repression was severe, it should not be exaggerated. It fell on a relatively small number of persons, and the works of Erasmus continued to be imported and read.46 Valdés reorganized the Holy Office and issued a new codification of its rules. On 7 September 1558 a harsh decree on censorship of books was issued.47 Valdés issued an index of forbidden books in 1559 and was responsible for Benito Arias Montano’s Index expurgatorius published in the Netherlands in 1571.48 In the same year he obtained a papal brief that extended his authority, including limited authority over bishops. There was a conscious attempt, beginning with Philip II’s recall of Spanish students studying abroad (22 November 1559), to isolate Spain from the rest of Europe. This decree, however, was limited to Castile and seems not to have had much practical impact.49 In 1568 he issued an order for the crown of Aragon that students could not study in France.50 In 1564 Diego de Espinosa was named coadjutor to Valdés. The ostensible reason was the latter’s advancing age and increasing infirmities, though both king and pope wanted to get rid of him.51 Espinosa has never found a worthy biographer and despite his prominence in the government of Philip II, information about him is sketchy and often inaccurate.52 He was born at Martín Muñoz de las Posadas near Avila in 1513 or 1514.53 His parents, Diego de Espinosa and Catalina de Arévalo, were poor hidalgos. In 1522 he was admitted to first tonsure, apparently in anticipation of a career in the church, but did not receive other orders until 1564.54 He twice sought admission to the colegio mayor de San Bartolomé at Salamanca but was

88

JUAN DE OVANDO

turned down. The date of his first application is unknown. He competed for the second time on 2 August 1542, but there was no inquiry into his qualifications, “pasose sin informacion.”55 The reasons for his rejection were not given, but since Espinosa was not an uncommon name among conversos, this may have been a factor. The investigation made in April and May 1568 at the time of his appointment as bishop of Sigüenza declared him an Old Christian. It should be noted, however, that most of the witnesses were members of the Royal Council or the Suprema and that the investigation was carried out by Doctor Nicolás de Ovando, who had entered Espinosa’s service around 1566. In 1566 there was an investigation into his background when his nephew, also named Diego de Espinosa, sought entrance into the military order of Santiago. None of the witnesses knew or could remember the name of the elder Diego de Espinosa’s maternal grandmother. It was said that her name was Calderón. This led to accusations in his lifetime that his mother was not a true hidalgo and to the suspicion by modern historians that he may have been of converso background.56 This investigation is a good example of the difficulty of proving limpieza in the late sixteenth century and of the ways that the process could be manipulated. Around 1540 he went to Salamanca to study law. He applied to the Colegio de Santiago el Zebedeo, more commonly called the Colegio Mayor de Cuenca, and he was admitted in 1543. He distinguished himself as a student and professor of canon and civil law.57 He took the degree of licenciado in canon law at Salamanca in 1547 and taught there.58 Espinosa’s many enemies considered him of mediocre intellectual ability and cited this as the reason for his twofold rejection by San Bartolomé.59 They attributed his remarkable rise to powerful patrons, including Hernando Niño de Guevara, Juan de Figueroa, Hernán Pérez, Francisco de Eraso, Francisco de Menchaca, and Briviesca de Muñatones.60 Espinosa also established a firm friendship with the Jesuits, including Francisco Borja, the duke of Gandía and future superior general of the Society. At that time the Jesuits were influential at court. At Salamanca he made numerous friends who remained with him for life and whose careers he promoted: Juan Zapata de Cárdenas, Francisco Hernández de Liévana, Francisco Briceño, Francisco Sancho, and Juan Arce de Otálora. Later he would add Juan de Ovando and Mateo Vázquez to this list.

THE COUNCIL OF THE SUPREME AND GENERAL INQUISITION

89

Espinosa left the colegio at about the age of thirty-five. In 1548 he was named appeals judge of the archdiocese of Zaragoza and was then called by Niño de Guevara, bishop of Sigüenza, to be provisor of the diocese. There is no documentation as to how this came about. Martínez Millán theorizes that it was arranged by Francisco de Montalvo, a member of the Council of Castile and a friend of Niño de Guevara, who had been born in Martin Muñoz de las Posadas and may have been related to Espinosa.61 Niño de Guevara was president of the Council of Castile and probably was responsible for the beginnings of Espinosa’s career. However, Niño died suddenly in 1552. Because the bishop was an enemy of Valdés, Espinosa suffered a brief eclipse, and there is no definitive information on what he did. Martínez Millán believes that he returned to his hometown. At about this time he seems to have linked his fortunes to the ebolista faction.62 Niño de Guevara had proposed him as oidor of the chancellería of Granada, but he had been turned down. Unfortunately, the chronology of his officeholding is not clear. The licenciado Hernán Pérez de la Fuente arranged for him to be appointed oidor of Seville in 1553. Pérez de la Fuente had conducted a visita of the audiencia of Seville in 1551 during which he reorganized the audiencia and increased the number of judges, thus requiring more letrados. Espinosa was in Seville from 1553 to 1556. During his stay in Seville, he became friendly with Vázquez de Alderete, Ovando, Gaspar Cervantes de Gaete, and the very young Mateo Vázquez.63 On 29 February 1556 he was named regent of the Council of Navarre, chiefly through the agency of Francisco de Eraso, Francisco de Menchaca, and Briviesca de Muñatones, and later in the year a member of the Council of Castile.64 After Seville he became a judge of the chancellería of Valladolid. These three appointments brought him into contact with the court.65 Most of Espinosa’s work was done in lay administration, although he had been admitted to first tonsure. There seems to have been some reluctance on his part to become a cleric—a contemporary profile says that “he does not wish to be a cleric”—and it was not until March 1564 that he was ordained to the priesthood.66 This change of vocation came when he was almost fifty years old. Because as regent of Navarre he was involved in the judgment of criminal cases, he renounced any income from the church. In 1564, in anticipation of receiving more ecclesiastical orders, he obtained a

90

JUAN DE OVANDO

dispensation from the canonical impediments to ordination that resulted from the sentences of death and bodily mutilation that he had passed as a civil magistrate.67 On 1 July 1564 he was named coadjutor to Valdés in the presidency of the Inquisition.68 In 1565 he was appointed president of the Council of Castile, of which he had been a member since 1560.69 A little over a year later, on 8 September 1566, he became president of the Council of the Inquisition.70 In 1568 Philip II asked Pope Pius V to make Espinosa a cardinal. It was widely believed that his motive was to give him more authority and to make the nobility respect him.71 If so, the move had little success. The pope agreed with a rapidity that surprised the king.72 On 24 March 1568 Espinosa was named a cardinal, under the title of San Stefano in Monte Celio and received the office on 15 April.73 Pope Pius V, after realizing that Espinosa’s first loyalty was to the king, not the papacy, is supposed to have expressed his regret at having made him a cardinal.74 As Espinosa became more powerful and received more signs of royal favor, the papal secretary of state, Cardinal Alessandrino, commented that making Espinosa a cardinal “was the equivalent of creating another pope in Spain.”75 On 5 July 1568 Espinosa was named bishop of Sigüenza.76 The city was near the court and was one of the richest dioceses in Spain. The papal nuncio in Madrid estimated Espinosa’s annual income at 36,000 ducados.77 Though Espinosa lived in luxury, he was not regarded as greedy or grasping for wealth as much as for honors and titles. A major difficulty in those post-Tridentine days was that Espinosa was an absentee bishop. As a result it was necessary for the pope to give him a dispensation from residence, which was granted in part because of the proximity of Sigüenza to Madrid. Still Espinosa was required to reside in his diocese during Lent and at one other time during the year.78 Philip II showed Espinosa extraordinary royal favor. He had a seat at the monarch’s right hand almost equal to that of the king himself. He had precedence above everyone but the royal princes and walked on the king’s right hand in processions.79 Luis Cabrera de Córdoba said that it seemed “as if he was born only to command.”80 The count of Chinchón wrote to the duke of Alburquerque in 1566, “[Espinosa is] the man in all of Spain in whom the king confides the most and with whom he conducts the most business, both of Spain and outside of it.”81 This favor aroused the envy and anger of the nobility, who regarded him as an upstart. Espinosa, in return, was openly disdainful of the old nobility. He and Eboli

THE COUNCIL OF THE SUPREME AND GENERAL INQUISITION

91

were especially hostile to Alba—”envious of the duke,” in the words of Cabrera de Córdoba. They were, he said, “contented by his victories, discontented by his triumph.”82 On 4 December 1566 Espinosa notified the Suprema that the pope, “taking into consideration the age and infirmities of the Most Reverend Lord Don Fernando de Valdés, who has asked to be relieved of the office and charge of Inquisitor General,” had appointed Espinosa to the position.83 The papal appointment had actually been made the previous 8 September. The cardinal was now president of the two most powerful councils in Spain. One week after the notification to the Suprema, Juan de Ovando was appointed a councillor.84 Ovando’s first recorded participation in a meeting was on 24 December 1566.85 His fellow councillors were Rodrigo de Castro, Sancho Busto de Villegas, and Soto Salazar. In 1567 they were joined by Hernando de Vega, like Ovando a future president of the Council of the Indies.86 At an unknown date Ovando’s protégé, Mateo Vázquez, became a secretary to the Suprema. Vázquez’s first known participation was in December 1567. What his precise duties were is not clear. It was in early 1569, while he held this position, that he was ordained to the priesthood.87 The Holy Office under Espinosa was in many ways a quite different institution from what it had been under Valdés. While Bataillon’s statement that there was a general sigh of relief may be exaggerated, the Inquisition was certainly less ferocious.88 In part this was because many of the targets of the Inquisition, such as the Erasmians, alumbrados, and conversos, had been largely eliminated. Also, Espinosa and his councillors were concerned about reining in the independence of the local tribunals and regularizing the procedures and organization of the Holy Office.89 Espinosa and his aides brought letrado sensitivities to bear on the Inquisition and sought to make it a more coherent and law-abiding body. The increase of control over the local bodies included matters of both finance and centralization. The finances of the Inquisition were in poor condition. Salaries in the local tribunals were low, with a corresponding temptation to increase confiscations. In the last years of Valdés’s presidency many of the local inquisitions had begun to operate as virtually independent bodies. Espinosa not only sought to regain control but also to impose order on them. All of this required meticulous record keeping. The president sent out detailed instructions on the number and kind of books to be kept.90 In January 1567 he demanded reports on the number of familiares and consultors

92

JUAN DE OVANDO

in the various districts.91 The following May the Suprema ordered the local tribunals to send copies of all letters for a general archive of the Holy Office.92 In 1568 it directed that all the processes of relajados, or persons who had been remanded to the secular arm, be sent to it.93 Two months later it circulated a book detailing the procedures of the Holy Office that each local tribunal was obliged to follow.94 In 1570 an edict forbade tribunals in towns where there were bishops and cathedrals from appointing comisarios, local clergy who assisted the inquisitors, without first consulting the Suprema.95 The control also extended to lesser matters. The Suprema decreed that in an auto de fe the relajados pertinaces, or condemned persons who refused to recant, were not to be accompanied by clerics or religious but only by the confessors who were with them the night before.96 They also sent an order about the reconciliados por diminutos, those who had made partial confessions, but it is difficult to say precisely what the order was.97 Another order reaffirmed that copies of testimonies should be kept, according to custom.98 In 1571 confessors in Granada were granted faculties to absolve Moriscos privately from apostasy and heresy.99 Local inquisitors were instructed to investigate accusations of solicitation in the confessional in the best way they could.100 The financial problems were acute. The first step taken by the new Inquisitor General and his councillors was to gather information on the financial status of the local inquisitions. They sent a letter, erroneously dated 24 January 1566, to the various tribunals demanding an accounting of money.101 At the end of the same year the Suprema sent out a circular instructing the local tribunals to submit reports of income and expenditures.102 A year later another circular raised salaries or gave financial aid to local officials, “trusting that you gentlemen . . . will take the care and diligence that are required in such a troubled time.”103 As a money-saving measure, the Suprema ordered the tribunals to accelerate the cases of poor prisoners (whose food was paid for by the Inquisition) and not wait until the auto de fe to resolve them.104 The Suprema also issued orders concerning the canonries held by the Inquisition105 whose income was frequently tied up in endless lawsuits brought by disappointed candidates or by the chapters themselves.106 The money-saving measures extended beyond the grave. When Valdés died, Espinosa directed that he should be given the usual honors by the local tribunals but that there should be moderation in the cost.107

THE COUNCIL OF THE SUPREME AND GENERAL INQUISITION

93

On 19 August 1569 the Suprema, in consultation with Cardinal Espinosa, sent out a general instruction on the proper care and order of the Inquisition’s finances.108 It was a classic example of the letrado approach to administration. The instruction cautioned local inquisitors to be careful about money and goods and pointed out that both salaries and costs had gone up. A receptor, or receiver, was not to sell or dispose of confiscated goods without authorization from the senior inquisitor. All officials were to meet on the last day of the month to discuss finances, and serious questions were to be forwarded to the Inquisitor General and the Suprema for resolution. The local inquisitors were allowed to pay certain expenses, such as food for indigent prisoners, but not to pay for transporting inquisitors and their officials to their homes. No general payments were to be made, and every item was to be accounted for. The instruction also restricted payments on the occasion of an auto de fe and directed that spending limits imposed by the Inquisitor General were not to be exceeded. The Suprema was to be kept well informed. The instruction was an attempt to bring rationality and order to what had been a slipshod procedure. One means of vigilance was the visita, of which there were two kinds. One was an investigation of local tribunals by the Suprema; the other was the investigations made by the local tribunals of the territories in their jurisdiction. In 1567 Espinosa demanded to see the edicts that were published in the visitas of the various districts.109 In 1567 Soto Salazar made a comprehensive visitation of three tribunals.110 Two years later he made a similar visitation of the inquisition in Murcia and instituted a full-scale reform.111 The frequent absences of councillors from the Suprema may be explained by similar visitas to other local tribunals, for the members of the Suprema were basically itinerant. In November 1567 the Suprema issued a set of instructions on how the visitas of the various districts were to be made.112 In 1570, at the same time that he granted the salary increase, Espinosa ordered that each inquisitor had to make an annual visita of his district for four months of each year. Failure to do so brought a fine of 50,000 maravedís. Receptors had to show proof of the visita before they could be paid.113 In light of all this, it is not surprising that the Suprema paid somewhat less attention to what may be called true inquisitorial activity.114 Some of this involved vigilance over shipping and the frontier with France, since the south of France was viewed as a Calvinist stronghold.115 Though there

94

JUAN DE OVANDO

appears to have been very little heresy among the Catalans, their proximity to France was worrisome.116 On 18 January 1571 the Suprema informed the local tribunals that because of a meeting that the princess of Béarne had had with some Protestants, their ministers were entering Spain in disguise. The inquisitors were exhorted to pray that God would spare Spain from heresy, “since we have from his divine hand every obligation to give him infinite thanks for the good state in which religious matters are found in it.”117 In an almost farcical episode, the crown attempted to use the Inquisition to stop the export of horses to Calvinists in France. The first directive was sent by the Suprema on 23 May 1569, with the follow-up in February 1574. The effort failed, both because of resistance by the Catalans and because it was not Inquisition business.118 The major concern of the Inquisition was books, not only those that were openly heretical, but also vernacular translations of scripture and orthodox works with suspect passages. These books formed the bulk of the Suprema’s work during the time that Ovando was a member.119 Some books were ordered sent to the Suprema immediately without anyone being permitted to have copies. Among these were works on Saint John and Romans by Miguel de Medinaceli, a Franciscan, and a book titled Problemata Sacrae Scripturae by the Franciscan Giorgio Veneto.120 The most intense activity occurred in May, June, and October 1568. In May and June two orders were issued to collect copies of Gonzalo de Illescas’s Historia pontifical y católica.121 At the same time the Suprema instituted a search for a vernacular translation of the Bible by Casiodoro, a friar living in Geneva.122 This was Casiodoro de Reina, a former Observantine Hieronymite who had been a leader of a Lutheran cell in Seville. He had been burned in effigy at the auto de fe in Seville on 26 April 1560, together with Doctor Egidio and Constantino Ponce de la Fuente. He completed his translation of the Bible into Spanish in 1569.123 In June the Suprema also issued warnings against the works of the French Protestant humanist Pierre Ramus, whom it identified as a “Lutheran catedrático.”124 In August orders came to confiscate Los Feros’s commentary on Ecclesiastes and Ceiglerius’s Implimion de naturali historia.125 Because of observations made by faculty at the University of Alcalá de Henares, the Suprema ordered the correction of an edition of the works of Saint Cyril published at Basel in 1566 and of a book on the Four Last Things by Denis the Carthusian.126 After that there were relatively few confiscations.127

THE COUNCIL OF THE SUPREME AND GENERAL INQUISITION

95

No reasons were given for these confiscations, though the works of Ramus and perhaps Casiodoro were overtly Protestant. The latter would also have been suspect because of his translations of scripture into Spanish. Giorgio Veneto was probably viewed as having appeal to persons with alumbrado sympathies. Denis the Carthusian and Gonzalo de Illescas, on the other hand, were highly regarded and orthodox Catholic writers. Illescas was obliged to expunge certain critical comments about the popes, and his work was republished in 1574. Except for Illescas, all these authors were non-Spaniards. There is no way of knowing what special role Ovando played in the various activities of the Suprema. In general the record shows him to have been a rather consistent though not outstanding participant. Six months after his appointment to the Suprema Ovando was commissioned to undertake a visita of the Council of the Indies. It is not surprising, then, that he was absent for prolonged periods. Except for three meetings, he was absent from 1 January to 10 April 1568.128 After that there were periodic absences of varying lengths. His last recorded participation in a meeting was 26 August 1571, shortly before he became president of the Council of the Indies. The royal cédula to the archbishop of Mexico requiring a survey of the archdiocese (23 January 1569) lists him as being a member of the Suprema.129 In the list of councils and officeholders that Espinosa drew up and that was edited by Mateo Vázquez in 1573, Ovando’s name does not appear among the members of the Suprema.130 Cardinal Espinosa died on 5 September 1572. A commonly accepted story is that Philip II rebuked Espinosa for lying to him, something that almost literally killed him. However, there is no indication in the existing documentation of a fall from favor before his death.131 He was buried in an unfinished tomb in his native city. Cabrera de Córdoba saw in the cardinal’s fall a lesson for all favorites: “In the end he fell from favor because he did not walk behind his lord in glory, esteem, and the dispatch of business. . . . The favorite should live more modestly, carefully, uprightly, circumspectly, warily, cautiously. Those on top are in the greater danger, and the tree that has grown for many years falls in a second.132 After his death Espinosa was succeeded as Inquisitor General by Pedro Ponce de León, bishop of Plasencia, who died in 1573 before the papal brief of approbation could arrive. Philip II turned to Ovando, by then the president of the Council of the Indies, for advice, and Ovando replied in a letter

96

JUAN DE OVANDO

of 9 February 1573.133 His strongest and most persistent recommendation was that the post should not be given to a bishop, since the two positions were incompatible. In a marginal note he stated his belief that Espinosa should never have accepted the bishopric of Sigüenza because he was unable to fulfill the law of residence, to the great detriment of the souls of his people. He suggested that the office be united with that of the president of the Council of Castile; this would eliminate the competition or rivalry between the president and the Inquisitor General and also between their councils. This would also give all the inquisitions the favor of royal authority. He went on to demonstrate how this was not only theoretically true but also true in practice by giving a brief history of the various Inquisitors General. Ovando’s letter hints that he was seeking the post of Inquisitor General. An even clearer indication is given in a second draft of his response to the king.134 He called on God to witness that what he was saying was entirely disinterested. He had closely studied the affairs of the Indies, and he had provided what had been necessary for them and seen that these things were carried out. Matters were now so efficient that he had time to devote to other aspects of the royal service, such as those of the Holy Office, in which he had been trained and had experience. He was the senior inquisitor in Spain after the archbishop of Tarragona (Cervantes de Gaete, who had been inquisitor and provisor in Seville) and the bishops of Osma and Cartagena. Anyone who came into these jobs anew would have to spend many days learning about the individual inquisitions. Without failing in his duties as president of the Council of the Indies, he could also serve as Inquisitor General because he worked on the council only during the mornings when they dealt with civil cases (causas civiles fiscales) and during the afternoon when criminal caseswere heard. As he wrote, “[W]ith regard to matters of administration, at which the Inquisitor General ought to be present, I have [the afternoons] free and unoccupied with regard to the Council of the Indies.”135 Ovando’s effort at self-promotion failed, as did his attempt to prevent the appointment of a bishop. According to Cabrera de Córdoba, Ovando was seriously considered for the post but was not appointed because he was necessary to the other councils 136 The king named the aged Gaspar de Quiroga, bishop of Cuenca, Inquisitor General. A general look at the activities of the Suprema during Ovando’s term is enlightening in several ways. The sheer amount of paperwork that the

THE COUNCIL OF THE SUPREME AND GENERAL INQUISITION

97

inquisitors handled was staggering. Not only the cases but also the procedures of the Inquisition generated extraordinary quantities of documents, letters, and reports. Most of these dealt with questions of competence and jurisdiction, an area about which Spaniards of that age were sensitive. The Inquisition sought to extend its authority, while other agencies, such as provincial governments or cathedral chapters, tried just as forcefully to restrain it. The inquisitors were concerned with their own status, and there was a strong emphasis on genealogies, and hence limpieza, in their work. This, together with the overriding concerns about finances and centralization, meant that their workload would be heavy. In Ovando’s case this is all the more remarkable in view of the fact that from 1567 on he was conducting a visita of the Council of the Indies. Above all, the Inquisition under Espinosa was characterized by the classic letrado mentality so well represented by him and Ovando. There was the usual concern for good record keeping, financial responsibility, the rapid and unimpeded flow of information, and a rational and centralized administration in which each section, from top to bottom, knew its function and carried it out. It was this mentality that Ovando would now bring to bear on the Council of the Indies and the Council of Finance.

CHAPTER SIX

An Empire Threatened

“D

o not bind yourself to or become dependent upon any individual, because although it may save time it does no good.”1 Philip II followed his father’s advice: his government was characterized by an obsessive distrust, often justified, of all subordinate officials. His policy has aptly been described as “confuse and rule.” Because access to information meant access to power the king alone had the total picture of any subject. Information was parceled out to lesser officials in such a way as to enable them to give advice but not to gain command of a situation, something about which they often complained bitterly. This system functioned well as a form of checks and balances, but it was not conducive to efficient government. In 1560 one of Philip II’s ministers complained, “His Majesty makes mistakes and will continue to make mistakes in many matters because he discusses [matters] with different people, sometimes with one, at other times with another, concealing something from one minister and revealing it to another. It is therefore small wonder that different and even contradictory decisions are issued.”2 In 1573 Ovando made a similar complaint about the king’s lack of trust in his ministers and warned him against seeking advice from people without experience or knowledge, as happened with the New Laws of 1542.3 The governmental system of Castile during the reign of Philip II was that of councils. Although the cabinet form of government, with ministers responsible for specific areas and administering them below the king, was making headway elsewhere in Europe, Philip clung to the system inherited from his father. The councils were well suited to a system of “confuse and

AN EMPIRE THREATENED

99

rule,” allowing the king alone to have access to important information and make final decisions. Its basic component was the consulta, an advisory paper that a council submitted to the king for annotation, comments, and final decision. Philip would scrawl his comments in his incredibly bad handwriting, sometimes in the margin, sometimes between the lines.4 If no immediate decision was forthcoming, a common occurrence in the reign of that often indecisive monarch, the consulta might be returned to the council for further consideration. This process was sometimes repeated so often that the original problem would either have resolved itself or evolved into a form entirely different from that originally presented. It is small wonder that the volume of paperwork grew enormously during Philip’s reign or that Spain led Europe in the development of national archives. The nobles and letrados competed for positions on the councils. In general, the former predominated on the Council of State, which was concerned primarily with foreign policy. Letrados were heavily represented in the Council of the Indies and the Council of Finance. Often members of one council were transferred to another or belonged to more than one. Frequently outsiders were given an entrada to a council for specific deliberations, a practice that Ovando considered detrimental to sound deliberations and tried to stop. The councils, though purely advisory, were often quite influential. They were not, however, the only source of advice. Philip had other means of supplementing or second-guessing the counsel he received. One was to consult privately with individual members of the various royal councils. Another was the use of informal committees, or juntas, often composed of members of various councils or individuals who were considered trustworthy and competent in specific fields.5 The Junta Magna of 1568, which drew up the coordinated plan for the Indies, was one such ad hoc committee. In 1573, with a financial crisis looming, Philip established the Junta of Presidents to advise him on financial matters. Later in his reign Philip came to rely more on the juntas than on the councils. Another means of securing advice and information was through advisers who had no formal position in government. Typical was the way in which the king used the archbishop of Mexico, Pedro Moya de Contreras, as unofficial adviser on the Indies even before naming him president of the Council of the Indies. During that time, Philip frequently turned over to him consultas from the Council, usually in secret, for comment, review, and

100

JUAN DE OVANDO

approval.6 Long before Juan de Ovando became the president of the Council of Finance, he played an informal but important role in its deliberations. The role of unofficial adviser was also filled by private secretaries. Theoretically, a secretary’s primary function was to free the king from routine bureaucratic tasks and enable him to concentrate on the larger picture. They arranged his papers, delivered consultas, dealt with petitioners, and acted as liaison with the various councils and advisers. As the secretaries came increasingly to control the flow of information to the king, their power grew accordingly. Generally these men belonged to the letrado network and owed their position and advancement primarily to the king, with whom they often had a close relationship. This advancement was dependent on a system of patronage. A secretary, council president, or powerful noble would become the patron of a talented and rising young letrado, guide him during his apprenticeship in the intricacies of administration and factionalism, and eventually situate him in a position of influence. The protégés in turn would become patrons to others.7 The result was that the government of Philip II was based on a complex web of personal relationships, mutual help, and interdependence. This network was not confined to Castile. It was found at all levels of government in both the Old World and the New. The bureaucracy was a combination of meritocracy and patronage. A capable, trustworthy, and discreet secretary could come to exercise great power, provided, of course, that he kept within the appropriate limits.8 Two secretaries stood out in the reign of Philip II, Antonio Pérez and Mateo Vázquez de Leca. Pérez, the illegitimate son of Gonzalo Pérez, a cleric of converso extraction who had also been the king’s secretary, went beyond those limits by involving his monarch in a political assassination. This led to his downfall and exile, in which Vázquez de Leca, his successor, played a major role. Vázquez de Leca had no hesitation about blatantly advancing his own career, as when he offered himself to Espinosa in 1566 and to Philip II in 1573. He wrote to the king, “It does not seem that Your Majesty has a personal secretary, with the result that there is a great deal of unavoidable reading and writing; and from this employment and effort we must fear the damage to health which we know occurs in most people who deal with papers.”9 His self-promotion was rewarded when he was appointed the king’s private secretary on 29 March 1573, with a starting salary of 100,000 maravedís a year.10 His efficiency and dependability, together with an instinctive ability to know his place, kept him in this

AN EMPIRE THREATENED

101

position until his death in 1591, a record number of years for a private secretary. Vázquez de Leca acted as liaison between Philip II, who lived at the Escorial, and the various councillors and advisers, who lived and worked in Madrid. Even for his ministers the king was a remote, daunting figure, accessible primarily through his secretary. Consequently, Vázquez de Leca was influential in the determination of the time and place of meetings, the agenda, and who would or would not attend them. In his role as middleman he carried on a private correspondence with the various councillors and committee members. He also recruited junior civil servants and funneled precise information to his royal master. When the occasion demanded, he could make sure that this information reflected his own views. He was the only person in the kingdom whose access to information approximated the king’s, so that by the time of his death he was de facto the second most powerful man in the government. So it was that despite the hindrances to the accumulation of power that were inherent in the Habsburg governmental system, some letrados were able to rise to positions of great authority. Espinosa, Ovando, Pérez, and Vázquez de Leca were such. Espinosa died at the height of his power and at a time when in the opinion of some he had overreached himself and was falling out of favor.11 Pérez lost power because of political miscalculations. Ovando was reaching the summit at the time of his death, and Vázquez de Leca remained in power until his death. It is now commonplace to observe that under Philip II the civil service became Castilianized. Flemings and Italians no longer held high positions; those who worked most closely with Philip II were natives of the peninsula. While their outlook was more restricted and peninsular, they were able at the same time to dedicate themselves more exclusively to the problems of Spain. There is no evidence that any of them, except Pérez, ever traveled outside of Spain before or during their ascendancies or spoke any modern language other than Castilian. All of these men came from poor, disadvantaged, or even suspect backgrounds. Three of the four were churchmen, a fact that may have convinced Philip II of their reliability if not necessarily their disinterestedness. All royal servants, however, realized, or were made to realize, that there was only one source of power in the Spanish empire.

102

JUAN DE OVANDO

AN EMPIRE UNDER THREAT In the 1560s the empire ruled by Philip II was the largest and apparently most powerful state in Europe. Its domain included the Low Countries (modern Netherlands and Belgium), Milan (Lombardy), Naples, Sicily, and the Indies, stretching from central Mexico to Tierra del Fuego and to the Philippines in the Far East. After 1580, with the absorption of Portugal, Philip would rule the entire Iberian Peninsula and the Portuguese empire in Brazil and the Far East. As Geoffrey Parker has noted, Philip’s was the first global empire in history, the first on which the sun truly never set.12 In the preceding century “Spain” had been a geographic expression, a collection of independent states, at least one of which, Castile, was dynastically unstable. The creation of the nation-state, which in reality was more of a confederation (even in the sixteenth century “Spain” was often pluralized), had taken little more than sixty or seventy years. Ten years into Philip’s reign, however, this was an empire facing a real or perceived threat of dissolution. On almost every side there were challenges to its stability and integrity. The Turks were on the offensive in the Mediterranean. Together with Barbary pirates they raided European coasts with relative impunity and turned the eastern part of the Mediterranean into a Muslim lake. The Christian victory at Lepanto was still five years away. There was also a Moorish threat within Spain: the Moriscos. Fifty years of blundering Spanish policy, which included harassment, persecution, forcible conversion, and treaty violations, left the crown with an embittered minority that had ethnic, cultural, and linguistic ties with the foe in North Africa. In 1568 the Moriscos of the Alpujarras rebelled and were not subdued for two years, offering to Europe the distressing spectacle of a king unable to control his own kingdom.13 In northern Europe Protestantism continued to make gains. Unrest in the Netherlands would soon lead to a general revolt. The border with France was viewed as a gateway for the onslaught of the reformed religion from the north. There was a looming financial crisis in Castile, for which there seemed to be neither remedy nor competent advisers. The threat extended to the New World. In 1565 Pedro Menéndez de Avilés turned back an incursion of French Huguenots in Florida with a surprise attack and attendant massacre. In the Caribbean French and English corsairs raided treasure ships and threatened Spain’s communications

AN EMPIRE THREATENED

103

with its New World possessions. Domestic instability added to the bleak picture. In New Spain the so-called Avila-Cortés conspiracy (1566), a premature and muddled attempt at independence that was brutally suppressed, was followed by the loose rule of the viceroy, the marqués de Falces (1566–68). Peru had but recently been pacified after a series of civil wars and rebellions (1538–48). In 1567 the royal adviser Diego Briviesca de Muñatones advised against allowing the citizens of Peru to undertake further conquests or penetrations for fear that they would turn their arms against the government.14 Castile depended on regular shipments of silver from the New World in order to support the crown and finance its wars. From the Escorial Castile’s grip on its overseas possessions did not look secure. This same period marked the beginning of a new and innovative era in the history of Spanish administration of the Indies. In the upper reaches of government there was a growing realization that the Indies needed strong viceroys, consolidation of laws and institutions, and centralization. Matters had gone beyond conquest and the first settlements, when policies and administrative structures were a combination of improvisation and adaptations of peninsular models. Since the time of the first discoveries, the crown had been groping toward a consistent and coherent policy for the Indies. By midcentury there was a growing concern about the rise of creole (criollo) consciousness, the emerging self-awareness of those Spaniards born in the New World. In 1564 the licenciado García de Castro gave Philip II a graphic description of the instability of Peru. One reason, he said, was the increasing number of creoles: “An armed force is necessary for their peace and security, all the more so in those lands, and even more now that the number of those who have been and are born in this land and who have never known Your Majesty or have any expectation of knowing you has grown and goes on growing by the hour.”15 Even more disturbing was the attitude taken by some religious. According to the comisarios who had been sent to Peru in 1561 to negotiate perpetuity of the royal land grant (encomienda), the friars believed that they were called to construct a new Christendom in the Indies “in the fullness of time.” This meant that the supervision of the indigenous people should be reserved entirely to them, and they saw themselves as their only lords.16 If their position was not recognized, the comisarios claimed, the religious were threatening to withdraw from the mission field and send no more

104

JUAN DE OVANDO

friars to the New World. It was also asserted that the religious wanted to put the government of the natives directly under the pope with themselves as his representatives.

THE ATTACK OF THE HUMANITARIANS Spain’s rule of the New World was threatened on still another front—that of the humanitarians and pro-Indianists. If unruly elements in Peru and New Spain wanted to separate those kingdoms from Spain, there were radical pro-Indianists who believed that the conquest had been immoral from the beginning and consequently Spain was obliged to withdraw from the Indies and return them to their rightful sovereigns. In 1566 Bartolomé de las Casas, at that time on the eve of his death, asked the Council of the Indies to convene a junta of theologians similar to that at Valladolid in 1550–51 to decide the question of Spain’s title to the Indies and to find means to end their destruction.17 He died, however, on 20 July, before his petition could be submitted to the Council. It was later presented by Hernando de Barrionuevo, the Franciscan commissary at court; the Augustinian Alonso de la Veracruz, a devoted follower of Las Casas; and the Franciscan Alonso Maldonado de Buendía. Maldonado submitted a memorial of his own, also requesting the convocation of a junta.18 Maldonado was one of the most biting critics of Spanish rule in the New World and also one of the least known to modern historians.19 Though the principal facts of his life are clear, it is difficult to date them with certainty. He was born early in the sixteenth century, but the date and place are unknown. He was probably of converso lineage on his mother’s side. At an unknown date he entered the Franciscan order, probably at Salamanca. Despite his own claim to have lived and worked in New Spain for twelve years, he was there for certain only from 1551 to 1561. Little is known about his work there, though he always enjoyed a reputation for being a devoted and zealous missionary. Around September 1561 Maldonado returned to Spain. His purpose was to present to Philip II the grave abuses and exploitation of the Indians in New Spain, probably in the name of the Franciscans of his province. In the subsequent nine years he made six visits to Madrid to present his case to the Council of the Indies and the papal nuncio in Spain.20 At the order of the Franciscan minister, or superior, general, he sent a memorial to the king

AN EMPIRE THREATENED

105

in 1565 concerning better treatment for the Indians and the safeguarding of the Franciscans in the New World.21 He claimed that the Spaniards in New Spain were undoing the work of the friars and were thus endangering the peace and security of the land: “I implore your majesty by the sacred baptism with which you were dedicated to God to understand that there is not nor has been a matter more serious than this nor more worthy of a general council and that there has been no cause greater or more universal or more difficult, one that is most worthy that the entire Church of God should come together to decide it.”22 At an unknown date, but probably in July 1566, a summary of Las Casas’s petition and the ideas advocated by Maldonado and Barrionuevo was drawn up for use by the Council of the Indies. Las Casas’s ideas, coming at the end of his long crusade on behalf of the natives, were increasingly radical. For example: “All the wars that they called conquests were and are most unjust and by nature tyrannical. All the kingdoms in the Indies we hold by usurpation. All the encomiendas or repartimientos are most wicked and intrinsically evil and thus tyrannical, and such a government is tyrannical. All those who give them commit mortal sin, and those who hold them are always in a state of mortal sin, and if they do not give them up they cannot be saved.”23 And he made an even stronger statement whose impact can only be imagined: “The native peoples of any and all whose parts we have entered in the Indies have an acquired right to make a most just war on us and to erase us from the face of the earth, and this right will last until the day of judgment.”24 Barrionuevo contented himself with a statement urging justice for the religious in the Indies. The summary of Maldonado’s opinions, longer than that of Las Casas, was even more radical and more threatening. Unlike Las Casas, Maldonado threw the challenge directly at the king. He repeated many of Las Casas’s ideas, such as the immorality of the conquests, but went further in specifying what had to be done: “His Majesty is obliged to restore all the lands and fields that by His Majesty’s authority have been taken from the Indians, and each Spaniard is obliged in the same way to restore what he has taken.”25 Royal government, as then exercised in the Indies, was likewise against all natural and divine law because the laws were not carried out and transgressors were not punished. Maldonado was equally condemnatory of the church and the way in which the Christianization of the natives had proceeded: “The way that has been used to

106

JUAN DE OVANDO

promulgate the gospel is against the entire gospel and natural law, the same as robbery, adultery, and committing greater evils than has ever been done.”26 Bishops and archbishops who failed to learn the native languages committed mortal sin, and clerics and religious who brought with them anything more than their food and clothing were causing scandal and adulterating the law of God. The Council of the Indies did not fulfill its responsibilities because it was far from the New World and failed to learn the situation there. His final judgment on the Council was quite literally damning: “The business of the Indies is to preach the gospel, establish churches, explain scripture, and determine what can be done with a sound conscience. It is a worthy business and entirely ecclesiastical. His Majesty does not discharge his conscience with the Council [of the Indies] because they are laymen and jurists. They are charged with an office that is not theirs, and they do not attempt to know the truth at its root in order to advise his majesty. They are in a state of eternal condemnation.”27 Maldonado was remarkably, or recklessly, explicit about the king’s obligations: “For if Your Highness does not do what is in him according to God’s law in order to make clear these truths and to declare them publicly, and make known what can be preached about them and absolved [in the confessional], and thus put an end to so many evils, Your Highness cannot be saved nor any of his ministers. And Your Highness and these kingdoms of his will feel the most weighty hand of God without there being any doubt.”28 Juan Vázquez de Arce, senior member of the Council of the Indies, defended the king against these attacks.29 He recalled how Las Casas had provoked the Valladolid dispute of 1551: “About twenty years ago a friar who was the bishop of Chiapas came from there to this kingdom, claiming that in the said conquests there had been great excess. . . . At his insistence our lord, the emperor [Charles V], ordered the members of this council [of the Indies] to meet with persons of learning and conscience who had differing opinions.”30 Because of this Charles V gave orders on future conquests that were still being followed. But, he wrote, a few months ago, without news of any excess or any other reason, the said bishop and a certain fray Alonso Maldonado have returned to publish throughout this court that everything conquered and taken from the Indies was unjust and with an obligation to restitution, and

AN EMPIRE THREATENED

107

of this and other similar matters they have given to His Majesty many rash conclusions, asking with great confidence another meeting to determine it . . . which His Majesty did not approve, and with this the council sent to the king a long letter which in one of its chapters said that the said discoveries were to cease until the order that should be observed in them was given.31 Maldonado’s propositions were submitted for evaluation to fray Diego de Chaves (who later became Philip II’s confessor). On 28 April, probably in 1567, he responded in a letter that was likely intended for the Council of the Indies.32 The first proposition, that the king had no title to the Indies, he called “scandalous and seditious.” It left the way open for other rulers to try to seize the Indies or some part of them. It justified all the plots and conspiracies that had taken place in the New World. He also condemned the proposition as “rash,” for it was to deny the Christian commission given by the pope. Maldonado was in many ways an eccentric. He was single-minded, eloquent, and dramatic, even self-dramatizing. His personality strongly resembled that of Las Casas, especially in his obsession with a single theme that he repeated time and time again. Both his writings and preaching were apocalyptic. At one time he spoke about the plight of the Indians to Saint Teresa of Avila and her Carmelite nuns. The saint was so disturbed by what she heard that she retired to a cell to pray for the natives.33 His efforts were not always successful. He lamented that the Council of the Indies did not give them the attention they deserved. He also made enemies, especially Francisco de Guzmán, the commissary general of the Franciscans in Madrid. Maldonado’s agitation was reflecting badly on the Franciscans and on Guzmán, who had ambitions to become minister general of the order. Pedro Borges says that at an unknown date Guzmán locked him up in a Franciscan friary, though it is not certain that this actually happened.34 What is certain is that in late April 1567 Maldonado was arrested by the Inquisition at El Fresno outside of Calatayud and confined in the palace of the bishop of Tarragona, Gaspar Cervantes de Gaete. The investigation lasted between 27 and 30 April.35 Maldonado certainly showed signs of fanaticism and perhaps mental instability. On 4 May he wrote to the king that with his provincial’s permission he had been wandering, hungry and barefoot, from one Franciscan convent to another,

108

JUAN DE OVANDO

searching for his general in order to ask permission to go to Jerusalem to end his life.36 Nothing further is known about Maldonado’s brush with the Inquisition, but in 1568 he was able to give to Giovanni Battista Castagna, papal nuncio in Madrid, a book he had written, Defensa de los pequeñuelos evangélicos (Defense of the Little Ones of the Gospel), for forwarding to the pope. In 1570 he submitted a memorial to the Council of the Indies, though it was really intended for the king.37 During the same year, he was in Rome at the invitation of Pope Pius V, to whom he submitted his book and a petition, which was almost identical to one submitted by Las Casas to the pope in 1566.38 The following year, he submitted another memorial.39 Maldonado was not the only one concerned with Spanish policies in the Indies, nor was this concern confined to a small number of radical agitators. He now received powerful support for the proposed junta. In 1566 Cardinal Espinosa asked Luis Sánchez, a cleric who had spent eighteen years in the Indies, to write a comprehensive report on the situation in the New World. On 26 August 1566 Sánchez submitted his report, a condemnation as sweeping as any made by Las Casas or Maldonado.40 He began by saying that the entire question of the Indies could be reduced to one point, “and it is in favoring the bodies and souls of the Indians or destroying them and putting an end to them, as today has been and is being done.”41 He described, in terms reminiscent of Las Casas, how vast areas of New Spain had been depopulated. But, he said, “I am not speaking of Mexico City, because there, I understand, there has always been a little bit of justice and favor for the Indians.”42 “I have seen, with these eyes, things and cruelties never seen before, which no Christian could bear to hear, especially Your Excellency.”43 The root of all problems was the “insatiable greed” of the Spaniards, a factor that also contributed to civil war in Peru. “All of us who go to the Indies go with the intention of returning to Spain very rich, which is possible . . . only at the cost of the sweat and blood of the Indians.”44 Wars and slavery had caused this destruction in the past, and in the present it was the forced labor system, the repartimiento, that was destroying New Spain.45 The Indians were also destroyed by being forcibly removed from their native areas, “and so it is said that the Indian is like a fish: take it out of the water and it dies.”46 His report was very much in the spirit of Las Casas—he repeatedly used the term “destruction”—and he spoke approvingly of Las Casas’s work. He placed responsibility for the

AN EMPIRE THREATENED

109

many abuses that still remained eighty years after the first discoveries on the fact that no one in Spain really understood the Indies. He saw two reasons for this ignorance. The first was that the new lands were so distant from Spain and so vast. The other was the false and misleading information received at court from interested parties who had a stake in maintaining the status quo. The remedy had to come soon. “I think,” he wrote, “that nothing will be left if it is not remedied.”47 As for the persons responsible, Sánchez blamed all judges, whether lay or ecclesiastic, who had failed to secure justice for the natives, the secular clergy and friars who sought riches, and the conquistadors and encomenderos (grant holders). The immediate remedy that Sánchez, like Maldonado, proposed was the convocation of “a great junta such as is appropriate for such an important business, in which His Majesty and Your Excellency [Espinosa] and the Council of the Indies itself and other great theologians should be present, all acting as judges.”48 They should, he said, summon good religious and other persons of virtue and experience in the Indies in order to search out the truth. If it was not done, “we will always be groping.”49

THE INTRACTABLE PROBLEM: THE PERPETUITY OF THE ENCOMIENDA At the center of much of the turmoil over the Indies was the question of the encomienda. A peninsular institution that was transplanted to the New World in the earliest years of discovery, it was a means of rewarding the conquistadors and settlers by allowing them to collect tribute and labor from the natives from assigned villages. At the same time the encomenderos formed a militia in times of civil disturbance and supported the Christianization of the Indians. The encomienda was not feudal—for example, the encomenderos could not live in the territory of their encomiendas and had no civil or criminal jurisdiction over the natives—but it was similar enough to make the crown uneasy. It was also subject to appalling abuses that aroused the ire of humanitarians and pro-Indianists such as Las Casas. In 1542 the crown enacted the New Laws, which outlawed all future encomiendas and decreed that on the death of the present encomenderos the existing ones would revert to the crown.50 The result was a revolt in Peru and the suspension of the laws in New Spain because of local unrest.

110

JUAN DE OVANDO

Eventually the more stringent of the laws were rescinded. For the rest of the century, however, there was heated debate over the question of perpetuity, that is, whether encomiendas could be bequeathed from one generation to another without restriction. Perpetuity was not a free grant from the crown; the encomenderos had to purchase it. For a financially strapped monarchy that was a great temptation. The Council of the Indies, however, was set in its opposition to any grants of perpetuity.51 The question had been argued for decades and seemed in danger of being talked to death. Royal policy had generally opposed the encomienda, but it also vacillated in practice. There were financial advantages to the sale of perpetuity, but the religious consequences and the outcries of the pro-Indian school made Philip II more cautious than usual. Eventually the encomienda became marginal because it benefited only a minority and was out of step with an increasingly mercantile society. The encomenderos in the Indies, especially in Peru, lobbied incessantly not only for the preservation of the system but also for its expansion. Central to their plans was the hope that the crown would grant them civil and criminal jurisdiction over the Indians. In 1554 the encomenderos of Peru offered the crown 4 million ducados for such a concession.52 Such a grant, however, would have created a hereditary colonial aristocracy and intruded a new legal apparatus into that established by the crown. The growth of criollo feeling and self-awareness also made the crown reluctant to grant any further power to a local elite. In 1559 the king sent to Peru three commissaries, Ortega de Melgosa, Diego de Vargas Carvajal, and Diego Briviesca de Muñatones (who also conducted a visita of the audiencia of Lima and a residencia of the viceroy). They were soon joined by the new viceroy, the count of Nieva, to investigate the possibility of selling perpetuity. The encomenderos were a minority, 480 out of a population of 8,000, whereas there was a solid bloc of caciques, clergy, and humanitarians who wanted the encomiendas to revert to the crown and were willing to pay for it. The comisarios and Nieva wanted to come up with a compromise proposal that would guarantee as much money as possible for the crown and still preserve the peace. They proposed that one-third of the encomiendas would be sold in perpetuity and would include civil and criminal jurisdiction in the second instance; one-third would be incorporated to the crown after two lifetimes and after a payment by the caciques; and one-third would be incorporated to the

AN EMPIRE THREATENED

111

crown after two lifetimes and then granted for another lifetime without jurisdiction to those who had performed services for the crown. The grant of jurisdiction was the most important concession. Jurisdiction in the first instance would belong to Indian officials after they had been gathered together in larger urban units. These local alcaldes would have the power then held by the caciques. Vargas Carvajal died in July 1562, and the other two commissaries left for Spain toward the end of that year.53 The work of the commissaries and viceroy was undone by revelations of their extravagant corruption, proof of which reached Spain before they did. Ortega de Melgosa was banned from holding public office for six years and Briviesca de Muñatones was sentenced to a prison term.54 He must have returned to favor, however, because in 1567 he was a witness in the visita of the Council of the Indies and served on the Junta Magna the following year.

ROME AND THE INDIES In 1568, when concern for the state of the Indies was reaching a peak in Spain, Pope Pius V added to the pressure on the Spanish government by establishing his own papal commission on the missions. The idea of such a commission came not from the pope but from the Jesuits, specifically, Juan Alonso de Polanco, an early companion of Ignatius of Loyola, and the Jesuit superior general Francisco Borja.55 On 20 May 1568 Polanco and Borja, together with Alvaro de Castro, the Portuguese ambassador to the Holy See, had an audience with the pope in which they persuaded him to establish a commission to deal with matters concerning the conversion of unbelievers.56 Although the pope agreed to the formation of the commission in May, its formal establishment had to wait for a future consistory. According to Polanco, this occurred on 23 July.57 The final membership of the commission consisted of four cardinals with input by the Jesuits Polanco and Jerónimo Nadal, and later Juan de Zúñiga, the Spanish ambassador to the Holy See. None of them had any experience in or special knowledge of the Indies. In addition, all of them were pro-Spanish in their sympathies. The commission’s agenda embraced the worldwide missions of the Catholic Church, but it was the Spanish Indies that was the principal object of discussion. The emphasis seems to have been almost exclusively on the means of bringing the natives to Christianity.58 One author believes that

112

JUAN DE OVANDO

Pius V wanted to have some influence on the instructions to be sent to the newly appointed viceroys in Peru and New Spain.59 It is not clear from whom they received their information, though there were friars in Rome who had spent time in the Indies, including fray Juan Aguilera, a Franciscan who was held in high regard in Rome, and a retired bishop of Cuzco, probably the Dominican Juan Solano. Both were defenders of Spain’s right to rule the Indies. It is difficult to say what role was played by Las Casas’s 1566 memorial to the pope or by Maldonado. The latter, however, was not in Rome during the commission’s deliberations, though he had sent his book and a memorial to the pope. Even so, the crown feared his influence. In 1568 Zúñiga wrote to Philip II of his fear that if Maldonado arrived in Rome, it could cause problems with the pontifical commission.60 On the whole, however, the humanitarians appear not to have had a strong influence on the commission. The cardinals completed their work in approximately three weeks and formulated their conclusions toward the end of August 1568.61 They drew up briefs that were sent by the pope to Philip II, Espinosa, Ovando, Francisco de Toledo, the Council of the Indies, Martín Enríquez, and Pedro Menéndez de Avilés, adelantado of Florida.62 The last two documents have not been located. The briefs seem to have gone through two redactions, as the members of the commission were concerned that they might prove offensive to Philip II. On 20 November the papal nuncio in Madrid was able to reassure Rome that the king had not taken offense and that Toledo was so pleased that he intended to write his thanks to the pope. Similarly, the Council of the Indies expressed its satisfaction and its intention to write to the pope. It did so on 29 December. There was also an instruction on the good treatment and Christianization of the Indians, which was drawn up at the same time as the briefs.63 Rome was so concerned about Philip II’s reaction to the instruction that Castagna was given latitude to change it as he saw fit.64 The nuncio’s contact with the king was delayed by the death of the twenty-two-year-old queen, Elizabeth of Valois, on 3 October 1568. Toward the end of November, however, the nuncio was able to give the king an oral summary of the instruction together with a copy in Italian. He gave copies in Spanish to Toledo. Since Martín Enríquez and Menéndez de Avilés had already left, he planned to send them copies. Philip II turned the document over to Cardinal Espinosa so that it could be studied in the Junta Magna. Ultimately

AN EMPIRE THREATENED

113

the king sent the pope a polite but firm rejection of any papal interference in the Indies. Rome made no further insistence on the matter. What did the instruction say? The original Italian began with a statement of the pope’s desire for the conversion and Christianization of the natives, to which Nuncio Castagna added a paragraph of fulsome praise for Philip II’s zeal for the same cause. Similarly, the nuncio added a statement of thanks and praise concerning the choices of the viceroys of Peru and New Spain and the governor [sic] of Florida. The pope expressed his hope that they would live up to Christian ideals. There was also a pointed reminder that the conversion of the natives was “the end for which the conquest of those kingdoms was granted to the kings of Spain because of which there is a duty to provide preachers and priests who know how to preach the gospel and instruct them in our holy Catholic faith.”65 They should be persons whose lives gave “clear testimony” to the Christian religion. The encomenderos in those lands were obliged to support the missionaries and pay for their sustenance out of the tributes they received. There should also be sufficient instruction before baptism, and children should be provided with teachers “who should not destroy with their example what they seek to build with words.”66 For this purpose the pope supported the policy of congregación, whereby Indians who lived nomadically or in small scattered settlements were brought together in larger population centers. He also endorsed the destruction of native temples as a means of preventing recidivism. Older converts should give good example to newer ones, and if they gave scandal, they should be publicly punished. They should be taught to lead a life of temperance, so celebrations and gatherings that led to carousing should be stopped. At this point the nuncio added a sentence, “It will also be necessary to see to it that the unbelieving Indians be constrained to observe the natural law and be taught to avoid the unmentionable vices [sodomy and incest] which corrupted and defiled a community. The law of matrimony should be introduced among them so that one woman may not have many husbands.”67 There was a strong statement that Indians were not to be used as household slaves but could serve voluntarily provided they were paid a just wage. They should not be burdened with excessive tributes. Every effort should be made to prevent the bad example of Spaniards or older converts from hindering the process of Christianization. Finally, no war should be waged against the Indians that was not assuredly just.

114

JUAN DE OVANDO

The instruction was a rather strange document that probably reflected in a confused way the views of the Spaniards consulted by the commission. Thus the assertion that the Indians were guilty of sodomy, incest, and polyandry was inserted by the nuncio. This was a common Spanish prejudice, and it probably came to Castagna from contacts in Madrid. The statement about Indian servitude reflected a consistent papal policy throughout the century, and that in favor of congregación would reflect the viewpoints of bishops rather than mendicants. Similarly, the emphasis on sufficient instruction before baptism endorsed the approach of the Dominicans as opposed to that of the Franciscans, though by this time the practice of mass and indiscriminate baptisms was probably over. Underlying the entire document is the Roman belief that the Indies were “very badly governed” coupled with a fear of saying so too openly.68 One anonymous member of the commission, however, said that if the king of Spain did not remove the obstacles to evangelization, he should be deprived of that kingdom.69 The papal commission had no real impact other than adding to the pressure on the king and his councillors to formulate a consistent policy for the Indies.

THE CROWN’S RESPONSE So it was that by the mid-1560s, in addition to growing tensions in Flanders and financial problems at home, the government of Castile was beset by colonial problems on several fronts: separatism and unrest in the New World, the question of the encomienda, the continuing radical agitation by pro-Indianists, and corruption and incompetence in the Council of the Indies. Some voices warned that Spain was in danger of losing the Indies. Others said that it deserved to do so. The crown’s reaction, conceived and guided by Espinosa and Ovando, was unusually rapid, bringing the full weight of the letrado mentality to bear on royal policy on Castile’s overseas possessions. The change began in 1567 when Ovando was appointed to carry out a visita of the Council of the Indies. This led to the reform of the Council itself, giving it a new and comprehensive set of laws (ordenanzas). Out of the visita came the move, spearheaded by Ovando, to organize and codify the laws of the Indies, a project that would not be completed for another century. In 1568 Philip II established the Junta de Indias, or Junta Magna, to address the more pressing questions of colonial policy, a junta for which Ovando prepared

AN EMPIRE THREATENED

115

the agenda and suggested some of the membership. In the same year the crown appointed two of its most effective viceroys, Francisco de Toledo for Peru and Martín Enríquez de Almansa for New Spain.70 In 1571 Ovando was named president of the Council of the Indies, but even before that he had undertaken another major project, collecting and organizing information on the Indies, the antecedent of the famed Relaciones geográficas. Rarely in the era of the Habsburgs did the royal government, often so lethargic and dilatory, respond with such alacrity to a crisis. It was not, however, just a matter of haste. The goal was a comprehensive, effective, and fully implemented policy. Ovando died before his grand design could be completed, but his accomplishments make him one of the most important figures in the history of Spain’s overseas possessions.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The Visita of the Council of the Indies

T

he crown’s sweeping investigation of the Council of the Indies and its members was carried out by means of a time-honored Castilian institution, the visita, an exhaustive inquiry by a competent and trustworthy individual who had the confidence of the king. That person was Juan de Ovando, who was appointed visitador in 1567.1 Beyond doubt both Espinosa and Ovando influenced the king in the decision to conduct the visita, and Espinosa was responsible for the choice of Ovando. As his assistants Ovando chose Juan de Ledesma and Juan López de Velasco, later the first cosmógrafo-cronista (cosmographer-chronicler) of the Indies. Ledesma appears to have been the secretary for the visita itself, whereas López de Velasco handled the collection of information and the codification of laws. Ledesma later served as one of the executors of Ovando’s will. The visita lasted from 7 June 1567 to 12 August 1571.2 The testimonies were taken from July 1567 to December 1568, with the majority being recorded in August 1567. At the beginning of the visita the president of the Council of the Indies was Francisco Tello de Sandoval, who was named bishop of Osma in August 1567.3 On 21 May 1568 he was succeeded by Luis Méndez de Quijada, who was effectively president for only eleven months before he left to join the war against the Moriscos in the Alpujarras.4 He died of wounds received at the battle of Caniles on 25 February 1570. Ovando’s visita did not suspend the work of the Council, which continued to function as it previously had. The departure of Méndez de Quijada for the Morisco war probably gave him a freer hand. This must have

THE VISITA OF THE COUNCIL OF THE INDIES

117

put the councillors in a rather difficult position, since Ovando was effectively acting as both president and visitador.5 Strong evidence for his participation is lacking, however, not surprising in view of the secrecy of the visita. Ovando’s visita went far beyond the conduct and functioning of the council. In a wide-ranging investigation he gathered information on the conduct of the local government of the Indies, trade and commerce, the church and its missionary work, abuse of power by local officials and caciques, and the status of the Indians. He and his aides drew up a questionnaire for witnesses, comprising forty-six questions.6 Instead of following the questionnaire, however, most witnesses submitted memorials, reports, and recommendations. As was customary in visitas, the witnesses were interrogated in total secrecy. Among the papers in the British Library there are thirty-one distinct testimonies, covering an astounding 351 folios, and these were only part of the responses received.7 The testimony of Briviesca de Muñatones filled 34 densely written folios, and that of another witness, Cristóbal Ramírez de Cartagena, fiscal of the audiencia of Quito, covered 108 folios.8 All these documents were read by Ovando or his aides, and a capsule summary of each paragraph was written in the margins. Most of the witnesses were either still in the Indies or had had experience there. In view of the troubled state of Peru, most of the responses dealt with that turbulent colony rather than New Spain. These were often concerned more with the local economy and local government—audiencias, governors, and viceroys—than with the Council of the Indies. As often happened in visitas, some responses were complaints by individuals about injustices that they had endured and pleas for rectification, payment for back salaries and royal grants or boons (mercedes), and other personal business. A pervasive, underlying theme not only of the visita reports, but of all governmental deliberations at this time was the fear of separatist tendencies, or even revolt, in the Indies, especially Peru. In a detailed analysis Briviesca de Muñatones proposed a twofold solution: increase Peru’s dependence on the mother country and reorganizing the local government.9 He viewed Peru as a controlled market for goods from Spain and recommended that the local production of certain products, such as wine and olives, be forbidden. He recommended retaining an audiencia in Ecuador as an effective check on rebellions. He also wanted to prohibit the oidores (audiencia judges) from marrying within the jurisdiction because it involved them with the local elite and created conflicts of interest, as did

118

JUAN DE OVANDO

their marrying their children to local rich people. Regarding these marriage alliances, the Franciscan Francisco de Morales made a similar observation: “It has been ordered that it not be done, and it is not observed; the difficulty with which the Indian is to achieve justice from the oidor who is the brother-in-law of the encomendero is clear.”10 The only testimony that dealt exclusively with New Spain was that of the priest Cristóbal Ayala de Espinosa.11 He was a creole who was suspected of involvement in the Avila-Cortés conspiracy and who seems to have had a strong identification with the Indians. He was also a member of the cathedral chapter and administrator of the royal Indian hospital. It was rumored that he left the hospital disguised as an Indian in order to make his nightly assignations with women of various classes. He claimed to have baptized 2,000 adults and 12,000 children and to have preached to the Indians for ten years in their own language. His testimony covered almost every aspect of life in New Spain.12 The large number of idle Spaniards was a danger, he said, as were the Indians, who grew increasingly insolent. They were learning “something other than virtue, dealing with mestizos, children of Spaniards and Indian women, and with mulattos, sons of blacks and Indian women, who [were] commit[ting] considerable violence and vexations against the Indians.”13 One reason for the unrest among the citizens and encomenderos of New Spain, he said, was the royal provision that encomiendas not extend beyond a second life. The encomenderos were still hoping for perpetuity. He recommended that all encomiendas become royal ones. This would increase income and would also lead to better treatment for the Indians. As for the conquistadors, the crown should grant them perpetual pensions and longterm bonds, and they would be satisfied with a half or third of what they now had. He also believed that education would be a stabilizing factor. He urged the king to give financial support to the University of Mexico, which had only four chairs and needed fifteen. In contrast to another witness, Salazar de Villasante, who recommended the abandonment of the viceregal system of government (see below), Francisco de Morales believed that viceroys were the best means for assuring peace and stability.14 A viceroy should stay in the Indies until he died, because “[o]ne of the great harms that the Indies suffer is the newness of government which in such new lands is a great difficulty.”15

THE VISITA OF THE COUNCIL OF THE INDIES

119

THE COUNCIL OF THE INDIES AND OTHER OFFICIALS The stated purpose of the visita was to gather information on the Council of the Indies and local government in the Indies. A high proportion of the responses centered on the corruption and incompetence of the councillors and their ignorance of the New World. Testimonies, however, went beyond the members of the Council to include viceroys, audiencias, churchmen, and a wide variety of local officials in the New World. Many of the familiar bureaucratic problems of Spanish government emerged, such as partiality and favoritism, solicitation of bribes, amassing of personal fortunes, and arrangement of advantageous marriages for relatives, servants, and various hangers-on, often resulting in a close relationship with the local power structure. In a long, somewhat verbose testimony Briviesca de Muñatones related his experiences in Peru in 1559.16 Because the councillors were letrados and lacked experience in the Indies, he considered them competent to deal with lawsuits and legal matters but not with administration. His solution was to separate administrative from judicial authority both in Madrid and in the New World. Another witness, the licenciado Barrionuevo de Peralta, made an interesting recommendation concerning appointments to the Indies.17 The standard procedure was that the president together with the councillors recommended candidates to the king. He believed that a better procedure would be to have “these offices filled with consultation and recommendation of the president alone because . . . factions and favoritism that are possible in the council are avoided.”18 This recommendation was implemented in 1571 when Ovando became president. According to Barrionuevo de Peralta, a major defect of the council was slowness.19 A year could pass without anything being done, causing great expense to the petitioners. By the time action was taken, it was too late to benefit anyone. Morales thought that a major defect of the council was its distance from the Indies and the unfamiliarity of the councillors with their government.20 The first viceroy of Mexico, don Antonio de Mendoza, had advised Charles V that he could not govern properly until the council actually went to the Indies. If that was not practical, then the president should at least be someone who had spent time there.21 With regard to individual officials, there were numerous criticisms of Tello de Sandoval, the outgoing president of the Council of the Indies,

120

JUAN DE OVANDO

centering on his failure to expedite routine business and to hold a sufficient number of meetings.22 One witness, Salazar de Villasante, had spent eight months in Madrid with two residencias (investigations of officeholders at the end of their terms) that he had taken in the Indies, and neither was seen by the council. He also accused Tello de Sandoval of removing and appointing oidores of the colonial audiencias at whim. In addition, the members of the council removed capable oidores and sent others “of little experience and learning solely as a favor and because they were relatives.”23 According to Salazar de Villasante, when Vázquez de Arce, the senior councillor, became acting president, there was an immediate improvement: “In the short time Doctor Vázquez has been president, he has expedited more business than the said Tello de Sandoval did in a year.”24 Another witness, Bartolomé Vázquez, related the problems he had with Tello de Sandoval in seeking repayment of a claim he had against the crown for past services. Everyone, he said, believed that Vázquez de Arce should be named president of the council.25 A similar opinion was voiced by Barrionuevo de Peralta, Although this was not unbiased testimony: he was a close friend and associate of the acting president.26 Despite the praise that he received, Vázquez de Arce did not escape denunciation, and his case may be considered typical of the council’s problems. The most extensive charge against him concerned his efforts to help his brother, Melchor Vázquez Dávila, when the audiencia of Lima removed the latter’s Indians from his control. The senior councillor sent a letter as well as a royal cédula to the audiencia that deprived it of authority to remove Indians from encomiendas.27 The oidores were angered by the limitation of their authority, as well as because the cédula contradicted a previous royal order, and they believed it had been obtained by Vázquez de Arce solely to protect his brother’s interests.28 It was rumored that Vázquez de Arce gambled a great deal, and he was accused of being partial to the affairs of the marqués de Cañete because he was a relative of Cañete’s wife.29 It was said that anyone seeking a favorable decision from the council had go through Vázquez de Arce’s wife or his friends or clients. Among the latter was Barrionuevo de Peralta. He solicited bribes under the guise of a “deposit” to be returned if a favorable outcome did not come about, but in fact the money was never returned.30

THE VISITA OF THE COUNCIL OF THE INDIES

121

LOCAL GOVERNMENT IN THE INDIES Two of the visita witnesses, Ayala de Espinosa and Briviesca de Muñatones, recommended sweeping changes in the government of both Peru and New Spain. Ayala de Espinosa recommended the abolition of viceregal government for New Spain and its replacement by a president and governor, both of whom should be letrados. Until that time the viceroys had been intent only on amassing possessions, especially land, and arranging advantageous marriages for their children. A letrado, in contrast, would be concerned only with the king’s service and the good treatment of the Indians, whom everyone else was trying to exploit.31 In 1575 Ovando tried to implement this recommendation but failed. Like his recommendations concerning the Council of the Indies, Briviesca de Muñatones advocated separating governmental authority from judicial authority in the audiencias in the New World. The audiencias should deal only with lawsuits because, he said, “it is the science they have studied.”32 He also said that by the time the oidores began to understand local conditions they were either removed from office or returned to Spain. Briviesca de Muñatones recommended that a special council be formed to deal with matters of government and administration. This council should consist of the viceroy or president of the audiencia and the two senior or most experienced oidores. It could have as many as eight members and would be required to reside in Lima.33 Briviesca de Muñatones recommended disbanding the audiencias of Quito and Charcas because there were few Spaniards among the population.34 He felt an audiencia in Panama would be accessible to both New Spain and Chile. “He also believe[d] that it would act as a brake on the states of Peru because they would not dare to rebel, knowing that from there [Panama] people could arm and come in order to put it down easily, as experience showed in the uprising of Gonzalo Pizarro who sent his captains to Panama because it was not considered secure.”35 Rather than an audiencia, he suggested royal governors for Charcas and Quito. In contrast, Salazar de Villasante was in favor of retaining the audiencia of Quito because the audiencia of Lima was so distant.36 He believed that audiencias better protected the rights of the Indians and provided a check on the encomenderos as well as on unrest and rebellions.

122

JUAN DE OVANDO

Briviesca de Muñatones had a dismal opinion of virtually all royal officials in Peru, especially those who served in the audiencia of Lima. He denounced the fiscal, licenciado Juan Bautista Monzón, “a man of little education and a man of little authority and seriousness, given to jokes and frivolities” and as “a man of bad conscience . . . who does not fulfill his office as he ought.” And, as a final blow, he said that although he is not certain, he believed Bautista Monzón “is not of pure lineage.”37 In Lima, the most fault was found with Hernando Santillán, oidor from 1548 to 1563. He and fray Domingo, bishop of Cuzco, without consulting the encomenderos or making any investigation, ordered that the tribute paid by the Indians in the encomiendas should be assessed by population rather than previous totals.38 Because of the decline in native population, this reduced the tribute by one-third or even one-half.39 When Salazar de Villasante was an oidor of the audiencia the oidores were paid in silver rather than gold by order of Briviesca de Muñatones during his visita. Even when the king approved this order, Santillán continued to collect his in gold and ordered that all oidores be paid in the same specie. The treasurer refused, citing the royal provision, but Santillán pressured him into doing so. Eventually an arrangement was worked out that added 800 pesos to Santillán’s annual salary of 4,000 pesos.40 The testimony of the licenciado Alférez shed light on the prejudices of the times.41 When Alférez sought an appointment in the administration of New Spain or Peru, there was a long delay. Someone suggested that he approach Juan Cano, a cleric and subordinate of Tello de Sandoval and a favorite of his. Alférez did so, and Cano answered in terms that suggested a bribe. Alférez did not have the money. He was an Old Christian and hidalgo, with more than twenty-five years of administrative experience, and was insulted that he did not receive a position. What really dismayed him was that so many positions were going to conversos. He concluded piously, “May God in his mercy grant that we Old Christians be considered as such because it strengthens us to die serving our faith and our lord the king.”42 A Doctor Cáceres, probably a relative of Ovando’s and also in Española, made a number of suggestions concerning the good government of the Indies. In all probability this was Doctor Alonso de Cáceres de Ovando, who was an oidor of Santo Domingo from 1559 to 1572. After certain accusations, he was suspended but then became an oidor of Panama, where he

THE VISITA OF THE COUNCIL OF THE INDIES

123

died in 1580.43 These suggestions clearly reflected some of the fundamental problems in Philip II’s mode of governance. Cáceres stressed the importance of the audiencias and oidores and the need for audiencia presidents to have previous experience as oidores. Letters from the audiencias to the king should be answered immediately, for sometimes years went by without a response because the royal councils were involved in so much other business. There should be more control over friars who served as visitadores or commissaries, as they sometimes abused their power. Finally, he said, the island of Española had not had a bishop for sixteen years.44 Though the accusations against officials went on and on, ultimately very little action would be taken. There were so many accusations and denunciations that the requisite investigations would have taken years. Ovando, for his part, was more interested in structural reform than criminal punishment.

TRADE AND COMMERCE Briviesca de Muñatones advocated a mercantilist policy that would restrict local production as a means of binding the colonies more closely to the mother country. As a result of his experience in the visita of the audiencia of Lima, he believed that the administration of the royal hacienda should be separated from the audiencia.45 As for the silver and mercury mines, there had been great deficiency both in searching for and working them.46 Officials of the audiencias were busy with their offices and were not expert in matters concerning the mines. The same was true of other industries, such as cochineal, alum, cinnamon, and cacao.47 Briviesca de Muñatones also gave advice on the Spanish convoys (flotas).48 He had heard that ships went independently of the flotas as a means of avoiding the import-export duties (almojarifazgos). He had seen two such cases in Sanlúcar de Barrameda in 1559. It was rumored that the Casa de Contratación had granted license for the practice, and there were complaints about the blatant favoritism.49 In his discussion of the reforms needed in New Spain, Ayala de Espinosa went into great detail about the money lost to the crown through failure to collect the almojarifazgos.50 Each year large quantities of clothing were shipped to the port of Acajutla in Guatemala from various parts of New Spain for purchase by the Indians. The cargoes included blankets, coarse materials, headpieces, Indian mantles, breechclouts (maxtiles), petticoats,

124

JUAN DE OVANDO

gourds, copal, amber, silks, taffeta, wine, and fruit preserves. Each cargo was worth about 12,000 pesos, from which the king supposedly received at least 10 percent in duties. On the return voyage the ships were full of cacao, “which is the money that is used in those parts, and from it the natives make a certain kind of drink which is a great sustenance and the Spanish people also use it.”51 Guatemala was then at the height of its cacao boom. According to Ayala de Espinosa, 30,000 loads of cacao were sent each year, each worth 20 pesos; in Mexico its worth was 30 pesos. The whole was valued at 600,000 pesos. If the almojarifazgos were collected at 10 percent as required, the king would get 60,000 pesos at the end of each voyage. From Yucatan and the ports of Campeche and the area of Tabasco, each year by land and sea came more than 40,000 mantles; at the port of origin they were valued at 3 pesos, in Mexico City the value rose to 4 pesos, and in Chiapas and Guatemala to 5 pesos. The almojarifazgos would be worth 12,000 pesos. From Yucatan each year came 10,000 quintals of wax, 4,000 arrobas of honey, blouses, shawls, cotton thread, and brazilwood, which was used as a source of dye. Ayala de Espinosa estimated the almojarifazgos at 20,000 pesos a year. There was also extensive commerce in livestock—mules, sheep, goats, and cattle—and in wool, which textile mills in Mexico turned into clothing. He estimated that if collected at customshouses the tolls would bring in 20,000 pesos. The provinces of New Spain and the Mixteca alta y baja produced more than 15,000 pounds of silk a year, from which the customshouses could collect 7,000 pesos a year. In Mexico City large quantities of dried fish were imported from the coastal regions, whose almojarifazgos were worth 8,000 pesos. In the marquesado a dye and powder called añil (indigo) was produced that could be exported to Castile, which at that time depended on the Turks for it. In New Spain the royal share (quinto) on proceeds from lead, copper, and alum was not collected. Ayala de Espinosa\ estimated it would be more than 10,000 pesos de minas (see Appendix). In summary, the crown was losing enormous sums in uncollected duties. Another important question was the cultivation of coca in Peru.52 A certain Vaca de Castro emphasized the harmful effects on the Indians of having to go from a cold to a hot climate to cultivate the crop.53 However, coca production was the principal business in Peru, and banning it would not only cause serious harm to the royal treasury but would also run the risk of rebellion. There was agreement that the current situation needed reform. The coca producers should be made to live up to their contracts

THE VISITA OF THE COUNCIL OF THE INDIES

125

with the Indians, specifying wages, workloads, and time spent away from home. In their turn the Indians were so desirous of both the leaves and their money that they would stay on after their contracts expired to sign new ones.

THE CHURCH The reports and memorials that dealt with the Catholic Church covered questions of organization, the patronato real, difficulties with the missionary religious orders, and the religious instruction of the Indians, especially in the encomiendas. Briviesca de Muñatones recommended that the patronato be more effectively implemented in the New World as a way to guarantee high-quality clergy. At the time there were not enough positions for diocesan clergy, and the encomenderos had to use religious.54 The encomenderos had become accustomed to naming the priest who said mass in parishes composed of recently converted Indians (doctrinas), but the king had turned this power over to the local bishop. Briviesca de Muñatones considered it essential for the good of Peru that the king should make these appointments from a list submitted by the bishop.55 The testimony of Antonio Vaca de Castro was concerned primarily with the religious instruction of the Indians in Peru.56 A principal difficulty was that no care had been taken to place a priest in each encomienda. The first remedy was to compel bishops to make visitations and encomenderos to hire a priest and pay a sufficient salary. Large numbers of scattered villages should be brought together into fewer larger ones and the roads improved. More clergy should be placed among the Indians; their salaries were excessive, and two could be supported for the current salary of one. The clergy sometimes left the encomienda without informing the encomendero, who might also appoint a less suitable replacement. The clergy often lived in their particular towns and might not visit the outlying areas more than twice a year. As a result, many Indian children died without baptism. Ayala de Espinosa urged the establishment of benefices for diocesan clergy, who would then look after the Indians as their own and see to their good. He recommended that these be conferred on deserving creoles, who could support themselves without depending on tributes or pensions. He also urged the establishment of more bishoprics and prebends and the appointment of men of virtue and learning. The king had ordered that no

126

JUAN DE OVANDO

provision be made without the preliminary investigation and approval of the audiencia and bishop. Often, however, it was a matter of favoritism. He suggested that the investigations be carried out by a committee composed of the bishop, his provisor, one prebendary, and one oidor. They would then give the approbation, which they would send to the Council of the Indies without letting the candidate know their decision. “In this regard,” Ayala de Espinosa wrote, “His Majesty will reform those churches and encourage virtue and learning in those who live in that land, something that is so very necessary for those born there.”57 He also reported that the Indians were oppressed by the building of costly and opulent churches, whose support fell principally on them. Some churches and monasteries had been evaluated at 300,000 to 400,000 pesos in areas where there were few people. Finally, Ayala de Espinosa favored establishing the Inquisition in New Spain. The land was no longer new, and the episcopal inquisition had not functioned well. He suggested four inquisitors for Mexico, two for Guatemala, one for Oaxaca, one for Jalisco, two for Michoacán and Tlaxcala, and two for Yucatan and Chiapas, a number that would have involved great expense. The Inquisition of Mexico should be the supreme tribunal in the land because of the difficulty of sending cases back to Spain. “The name alone will frighten people so that they moderate their way of living.”58 He recommended that the Indians should be subject to the Inquisition

THE NATIVE PEOPLES In his opening statement, Francisco de Morales observed that one of the principal purposes of Ovando’s visita was “to take information and inquiry into the harm and prejudices that the natives suffer and the causes that have so finished them off.”59 The souls of the Indians were being harmed by the bad example of those who gave them religious instruction. What they saw and received from the Spaniards was tyranny in the name of Christianity. The Indians had a forlorn hope that as Christians they might be treated better, but this was not so. Rather, it gave rise to both a tepid Christianity and a perpetual hatred for the Spaniards, who always had the natives “between their teeth.”60 Morales denounced all expeditions and settlements: “The demon, who never sleeps, has invented another pernicious way to finish laying waste to

THE VISITA OF THE COUNCIL OF THE INDIES

127

the Indians, which they call settlements.”61 All expeditions and settlements and personal service and use of porters should be forbidden. As for the mines, the work was excessive and dangerous. If a religious spoke against the maltreatment of Indians in the mines, the Spaniards replied that he was hurting the royal income. Contrary to what some persons said, the natives did not go voluntarily to the mines but only if forced.62 There they became sick, were poorly fed, and were overworked. The Indians should be allowed to enjoy their total liberty, “since they are free like us and in no aspect of the assessment of tribute may the Indians be compelled to serve either personally or in homes or ranches or any other enterprises.”63 In stark contrast to other informants, Briviesca de Muñatones believed that work in the mines was beneficial to the Indians, as experience in the mines of Potosí had shown. Each year, he said, the number of those going to the mines increased, and they went freely and made money. In the lowlands of Peru there was not a large native population, whereas the population had increased in the highlands to more than that at the time of the conquest. A layman, Captain Antonio Gómez de Acosta, wrote against the use of Indians in pearl fishing on the grounds that it was killing them. Yet, to modern readers, his solution to the problem was little better: “And since this said fishing can be well supported with black slaves who are more capable of enduring any kind of work, it is just that the poor Indians who are by their nature weak be released from such a captivity and such a brutal life.”64 The belief that the use of black slaves, who were thought stronger and more robust, would relieve the indigenous peoples of oppressive work was rather common in the sixteenth century.65 Ayala de Espinosa’s statements in favor of the Indians were among the strongest: “Your Majesty has often ordered that the tributes and vexations of the native Indians be calculated, moderated, and evaluated and with this the former grievances, such as slavery and personal services, of which Your Majesty has extensive information, was to a certain extent reformed.”66 The reform, however, had not reached outlying areas such as Acapulco, Zacatula, and Colima. Because of distance the Spaniards lived in great freedom and the Indians suffered. According to Ayala de Espinosa, “[W]hat is most important for the perpetual peace of that land is that there not be any powerful people in it, except those who administer justice on behalf of Your Majesty.”67 Also: “[T]he rich people that there are would live with

128

JUAN DE OVANDO

more moderation than hitherto, both in their lifestyle and in the ill-treatment of the Indians, whom Your Majesty should favor since these are those who bear the pondus diei et aestus,68 serving the Spaniards and paying tribute to Your Majesty, which is going to decrease because they are decreasing, as I have said.”69 Two hundred encomenderos should not be allowed to live in luxury at the expense of the poor Indians. Ayala de Espinosa was very concerned about the Indians’ relationship to the judicial system. First of all, there were not enough justices for the increasing number of civil and criminal cases. This worked great hardship on the Indians because of delays and expense. “And some of those who in Mexico are called nahuatlatos, who are interpreters for the audiencia, on which because of the sins of that republic depends justice for the poor Indians, these are those who take advantage of the delay of lawsuits, from which they make money forever.”70 The king had ordered that when Indians were convicted of crimes that were capital in Spain, the sentences could be commuted, for example, to work in textile mills. In itself this was not a vexation, as the natives were paid. However, they were forced to sleep out in the open, “worse than animals.” They were given little to eat and almost literally worked to death. “They are more oppressed than in the galleys.”71 The oidores and the alcalde de corte (judge of the civil division) had failed to visit and supervise these workshops. Morales testified that the increase in tributes beyond the Indians’ capacity to pay was leading to their destruction, or at least their flight to other areas.72 “By all right they have no obligation to contribute except to the support of the preaching of the gospel and the administration of justice.”73 Anything beyond that was unjust. But it was not only the Spaniards who were oppressing and diminishing the Indians. Another harm was the service that the Indians had to perform for the native principales (nobles), which was reducing their numbers from one hundred in an area to ten or even three or four. This practice should be outlawed.74 In Mexico City the king had established a hospital solely for Indians. According to Ayala de Espinosa, who was administrator of the hospital for three years, all Indians, male and female, and even those in jail went there to be cured. The king should continue to support it as he did when “this living temple” was first founded.75 A site had been purchased and on it were built a church and some rental apartments as infirmaries where the sick were very poorly accommodated. The present building was overcrowded, and it

THE VISITA OF THE COUNCIL OF THE INDIES

129

was sometimes necessary to refuse patients. The hospital was seriously understaffed. It needed a pharmacy, a surgeon, and a bleeder (barbero). There was no chaplain and no majordomo to handle the finances. Morales observed that the natives’ addiction to coca was a matter of concern: Coca is a plant that the Indians of Peru in a special way want very much; it serves them as a delicacy rather than as sustenance, as has been learned. So great is their desire for it that if they do not have money or anything else to buy it, they will sell their children in order to have it. . . . It seems that this plant has such a natural power that when an Indian has it he can dig for seven or eight hours without eating and walk nine or ten leagues with nothing else in his mouth. Since they delay so much in eating anything and giving the stomach some sustenance, day by day the stomach becomes distended, and they lose what they eat, and in this way it harms them.76 When the Indians carried the leaves in their mouths, said Morales, “they seem literally to be no more than animals.”77 Another correspondent, Diego de Robles, wrote in 1570, “Coca is a plant that the devil invented in those parts for the total destruction of the natives there. . . . Many of them end up with an incurable cancer that affects their nostrils. It eventually eats them away, together with the entire face.”78 The marqués de Cañete had tried to extirpate its cultivation but had failed. This, then, was the dismal picture that Ovando’s informants painted for him. It was against this background that the “Great Junta” met to examine Castile’s colonial policies.

THE JUNTA MAGNA The recommendations of Las Casas, Maldonado, and Sánchez for a special junta were realized in 1568. In May of that year Philip II convened the Junta Magna, or Great Junta, as it came to be known, to deal with the more important matters of royal government in the Indies. The two moving spirits behind the junta were Cardinal Espinosa who, as president of the Council of Castile, was the presiding officer, and Ovando.79 No thought was given to entrusting such a policy review to the Council of the Indies, which was viewed with disdain and distrust. The reports and agitation on the deplorable situation in the Indies did not reflect well on the Council’s

130

JUAN DE OVANDO

handling of colonial policies and appointments. The conde de Nieva and the marqués de Falces had been appointed at the Council’s recommendation, and their failures were attributed to the Council’s shortcomings.80 The appointment of Méndez de Quijada, a military man known for his loyalty to the king, as president of the Council in May 1568 was a step forward. One reason for the choice was probably that, as an outsider, he was not associated with the Council’s previous failings.81 The membership of the Junta Magna followed closely Ovando’s recommendations, though it was later expanded.82 The Council of the Indies was represented by its president, Méndez de Quijada, and the two senior councillors, Vázquez de Arce and Gómez Zapata. From the Council of Finance came Francisco de Menchaca and Francisco de Garnica, the latter generally regarded as the royal servant most knowledgeable about financial matters. The Council of Orders was represented by its president, Antonio de Padilla y Meneses, later Ovando’s successor as president of the Council of the Indies. Francisco de Toledo, viceroy-elect of Peru and a man with whom Ovando had a close relationship, delayed his departure for Lima in order to participate. His appointment as viceroy was the work of Espinosa and Ovando, who requested it from the king without going through the Council of the Indies.83 Two members of the junta who had already gained experience in attempting to codify the laws of the Indies were Francisco Fernández de Liévana and Juan López de Velasco. Briviesca de Muñatones had been a member of both the commission on perpetuity and a witness in the visita and was considered to be something of an expert on Peru. More difficult to identify were the bishop of Cuenca and Antonio de Toledo, the prior of San Juan. Gaspar de Quiroga was later to be Inquisitor General. Others included the Dominican fray Diego de Chaves (the king’s confessor after 1571), the Franciscan fray Bernardo de Fresneda (Chaves’s predecessor as royal confessor),84 the count of Chinchón (Pedro de Cabrera), and two friars, an Augustinian, Bernardino de Alvarado, and a Franciscan, Miguel de Medina. The friars were to be present only for the discussion of the first two points of the agenda and thus were excluded from the discussions that most closely affected their orders in the New World. Somewhat surprising, in view of the supposed eclipse suffered by their faction, was the presence of Ruy Gómez, prince of Eboli, and Francisco de Eraso, the king’s secretary.85 This was two years after Eraso had been found guilty of corruption. He was not dismissed from all his offices, but as a

THE VISITA OF THE COUNCIL OF THE INDIES

131

face-saving gesture they were divided. He remained on the Council of the Indies and as the king’s secretary, though he seems to have had little influence on policy. Other members who had or had had ebolista connections were Gómez Suárez de Figueroa (the first duke of Feria), Gómez Zapata, and Garnica. The presence of so many present and former ebolistas supports the idea that the faction was undergoing a resurgence. Eboli, Feria, Chinchón, and Antonio de Toledo all came from the Council of State and may well have been intended to counterbalance Ovando’s predominantly letrado nominations. Though there is no clear evidence of Ovando’s attachment to any group, as a client of Espinosa’s he would have been in the antiEboli faction that included the duke of Alba. Mateo Vázquez de Leca also belonged to this group and had an enduring antagonism toward Antonio Pérez, an ebolista. In addition, Ovando proposed members for a junta particular, a special junta or inner group, composed of Méndez de Quijada, Ruy Gómez, Briviesca de Muñatones, López de Velasco, Fernández de Liévana, Vázquez de Arce, Gómez Zapata, and Eraso. Ovando did not join the inner circle until its meeting of 21 November 1569.86 It is disconcerting to find a junta within a junta. This one was intended to have fewer members and apparently was the one at which specific decisions were made.87 One name that was missing from both lists was that of Martín Enríquez de Almansa, the newly appointed viceroy of New Spain. In all probability he had already departed for or had arrived at Mexico City. In addition, the focus of the Junta Magna was Peru, not New Spain.88 The agenda was drawn in great part from the information gathered by Ovando’s visita, but it was also fluid and underwent change. Sometime before the first meeting, Ovando and the Council of the Indies listed for the king the topics they considered the most important of those that were emerging from the visita:89 (1) perpetuity of the encomienda; (2) payment of tithes by the Indians; (3) new discoveries and settlements; (4) visitas and taxes and the imposition of tributes; (5) collection of almojarifazgos at those ports where they were currently not collected (probably a result of Ayala de Espinosa’s report); (6) rights of royal patronage over the church; (7) establishment of a patriarchate of the Indies to which the bishops in the Indies could have recourse and what authority the patriarch would have; (8) establishment of the Inquisition in New Spain and Peru; (9) appointment of criminal judges (alcaldes del crimen) in Lima; and (10) the status of

132

JUAN DE OVANDO

royal finances in the New World. With the exception of the question of conquests, all these points were discussed in greater or lesser depth by the junta. Though the king agreed to the junta in May 1568, the first meeting was delayed until 2 July because of the illness and death of the king’s son, don Carlos.90 The meetings were held in Espinosa’s house in Madrid, and he described the discussions as long and intense.91 Almost certainly Mateo Vázquez was responsible for keeping the minutes and decisions of the junta, which have survived in two documents.92 In all probability the junta completed its business at the end of 1568.93 At Espinosa’s behest the first meeting addressed the questions relating to the church and the missionary enterprise in the Indies.94 There was an obvious sensitivity to and worry about the criticisms that had been leveled against the way in which Spain had handled evangelization. The bishop of Cuenca began by asserting the traditional view that the only just title for ruling the Indies was the promulgation of the gospel. This would justify his rule in reaction to the restitucionistas, such as Las Casas and Maldonado. Diego de Chaves indirectly defended the crown by asserting that the orders did not send their best men to the New World. Fresneda pointed to the dissension between bishops and religious. If the crown favored the bishops, the religious would be weakened. If it favored the religious, the bishops would consider themselves worthless, and the lax would become even more so.95 In this first meeting the members of the Junta Magna also considered the question of whether Indians should pay tithes. Fresneda said that if they did, their tributes ought to be lessened because they would be paying twice for the same obligation.96 The junta eventually avoided a decision by leaving it to those who would have to implement it. At a later meeting it decided that the Indians’ tithes should be restricted to the fruits of the earth, since they already paid tribute on other items. With regard to Indian tribute, the junta tried to strike a balance that would require the natives to pay a just amount without being oppressed by it.97 The junta’s major innovation was to shift the responsibility for payment from individuals to communities. The local chiefs were to administer this. It was impossible, however, to set a standard system of payment throughout the Indies because of the diverse conditions. Natives who lived near the mines were expected to pay in specie and as individuals.

THE VISITA OF THE COUNCIL OF THE INDIES

133

Other were to pay in the accepted ways, that is, with agricultural products, mantles, and other products. At the first meeting of the inner junta the members considered the question of the patriarchate of the Indies.98 Since it appeared unlikely that the papacy would approve a plan that further weakened its authority in the Indies, the discussion was postponed, though a paragraph on it was included with the instructions to Viceroy Toledo.99 The king, however, did seek it later, when it had become a purely honorary title, and it became the subject of protracted negotiations between Philip and Pius V and the latter’s successor, Gregory XIII.100 Pius V, in turn, wanted to send a papal nuncio to the Indies who would be directly responsible to him. The papal nuncio in Madrid, Giovanni Battista Castagna, reassured the papal secretary of state, Cardinal Alessandrino, that he would continue to press the matter with the king at a time he judged opportune, “because in truth one should examine His Majesty’s mind very closely on this point.”101 No nuncio was ever sent to the New World. The junta considered it absolutely necessary to increase the number of dioceses and set their boundaries with precision. In a separate document they listed the possible new dioceses. The nominees for the new sees should be persons who had resided in the land and thus had knowledge and experience of it. The members also decided to ask Rome for expanded faculties for bishops because of the vast areas and the difficulty of travel.102 The bishops were to make visitas of their dioceses and to have provincial councils every two years and diocesan synods every year. Because of the shortage of secular clergy, there were few canonical parishes in the Indies. The junta wanted to change this and establish regular parishes for the natives. This followed the lead of the Council of Trent in attempting to enhance the diocesan church structure.103 Because of intrusion into the Indies by English and French Protestants, including an attempt by Huguenots to colonize the Carolina coast, and because of disorders among Spaniards, such as heresy, treason, and homosexuality, the junta favored the establishment of the Inquisition in the Spanish dependencies.104 In one sense it seems strange that this should have come so late after the conquest. Up to the time of the Junta Magna, inquisitorial functions had been in the hands of bishops, with a resulting inefficiency, as Ayala de Espinosa had pointed out. The members of the

134

JUAN DE OVANDO

junta recommended the establishment of four tribunals: Lima, Mexico City, the Nuevo Reino de Granada, and the Caribbean-Florida. Eventually only the first two were established. It was also foreseen that the Indians would not be subject to the Holy Office.105 The junta gave Viceroy Toledo a set of instructions on the church and the religious situation in Peru, dated 28 December 1568.106 They undoubtedly reflected the discussions in the junta as well as later contributions by Ovando and others. Toledo was to visit his jurisdiction and not remain only in the capital city. An important task was congregación, whereby the natives were removed from their seminomadic or village life and concentrated in larger urban districts, a policy that had been condemned by Luis Sánchez.107 In general, there seems to have been little or no discussion of regulating conquests or improving the status of the Indians. Such regulations would come from a different source. Given the perilous state of the Castilian economy, it was only natural that the Junta Magna should devote a great deal of attention to financial matters. There were two clear but elusive ways to stop the slide toward bankruptcy: increase income and decrease expenses. The junta decided in a rather general way that the alcabala, a general sales tax, to be collected from both Spaniards and natives, should be introduced to the Indies.108 The Indies had been excused from it in the beginning, and attempts to introduce it to Peru had been unsuccessful. Martín Enríquez later introduced the tax in New Spain over local opposition, but his attempt to do the same in Peru failed.109 Though the Indies did not have the alcabala, it did have the almojarifazgos. The latter were not effective since the evaluations of merchandise were not based on true value. The junta said that the evaluation should be made where the goods were sold rather than in Seville. It also favored drawing up a schedule of fees (arancel) for greater consistency. Up to this time an almojarifazgo was not assessed on merchandise transported from the Indies to Spain, so the junta suggested a rate of 2.5 percent. For the collection of the duties, the junta favored a system of tax farming (arrendamiento de renta) rather than direct collection by royal officials. The junta also sought to put an end to fraud. One such was that the merchants registered only the merchandise that was going to the port of destination, while unregistered merchandise was sold at the intervening ports of call. The junta wanted the local officials at those ports to register all sales. Large quantities of unregistered mercury and slaves were going to

THE VISITA OF THE COUNCIL OF THE INDIES

135

New Spain. Ships from Flanders and other parts of Europe would go to the Canary Islands on the pretext that it was the port of destination. The cargoes would then be transshipped and smuggled into New Spain. The junta discussed at length ways to revive the failing mining industry in the New World,110 which was central to royal finances. Those who exploited the mines should be helped as much as possible and should have all necessary supplies—wood, materials, buildings. With regard to the gold and silver mines, the junta believed that among the native peoples there must be persons who were experienced in working these or retained the tradition from Pre-Hispanic times. They considered sending experienced German technicians but only those currently working in Spain, because those who came directly from Germany might be tainted with Lutheranism. Special attention was given to the mercury mines in Peru, which the members of the junta believed should be incorporated into the crown. A formidable obstacle was that black slaves could not work the mines in Peru because of the high altitude. Since force or compulsion could not be used to conscript Indians, other means were considered, such as establishing large towns nearby so that Indians would not have to travel long distances. It was recommended that they be well treated and not compelled to stay after they completed their service. Other inducements would be high wages, awarding titles and eminences after a certain amount of service, and allowing them to pay their tribute in gold or silver. The local chiefs should be used to encourage the Indians to work in the mines. The members of the junta seemed to have few original ideas about the mines; the question of gold mines in Chile, for example, was turned over to the Council of Finance, and it was delegated to see that the mines of New Spain had a sufficient number of slaves and mercury. One of the more vexing questions facing the junta concerned competition between the peninsular and colonial economies. It was believed that the sale of Spanish goods in the Indies was decreasing, in large part because the latter were becoming self-sufficient in many areas.111 As a result the junta favored limiting production of certain products in the Indies “in order that the appropriate need and dependence on these realms should endure in them.”112 As Briviesca de Muñatones had suggested during the visita, these products included iron, steel, wine, olive oil, linen, woolens, and silk. He pointed out that implementing this policy would require the greatest “caution and dexterity” and even a level of “dissimulation.”113 It

136

JUAN DE OVANDO

was also believed that a prohibition on the production of steel and wine would contribute to peace. There was disagreement over silk. Because of the diversity of opinions, the members of the junta did not reach agreement on the matter of perpetuity of the encomiendas; rather, it submitted all the opinions to the king for his decision.114 They did make some recommendations, however. If the king should adopt the program proposed by the commissaries and the conde de Nieva, then it should be up to the viceroy to decide, according to local circumstances in Peru, if perpetuity was advisable and under what conditions. He should also decide if the “one-third” referred to the total income or a third of the number of encomiendas.115 To avoid difficulties, the viceroy should announce, before negotiations took place, that only a third of the encomiendas would be considered for perpetual grants. Since the term feudo (fief) was unacceptable in reference to encomenderos, they should be given some other title, such as baron or count.116 They should be granted civil but not criminal jurisdiction, since the latter would allow them to intervene in too many cases involving the “weak and submissive” Indians.117 Clearly the king was still thinking about the possibility of selling grants in perpetuity. He was also trying to buy time. The majority of the members of the junta agreed with the threefold program of the commissaries. In the question of civil jurisdiction, they were trying to strike a balance between the demands of the encomenderos and the needs of the Indians, but this was a substantive change in the concept of the encomienda, and it is surprising that the king’s advisers would even think of it. The Council of the Indies, in contrast, was strongly opposed to perpetuity and the granting of jurisdiction, both out of concern for the natives and out of the fear of separatism.118 In 1569 the papal nuncio in Madrid informed Rome of the status of the question and added, “This point has already been discussed for more than twenty years, and there is no danger that it will soon be resolved.”119 The deliberations of the Junta Magna showed how correct he was. Finally, in 1592, the king suspended all discussion of the matter.120 Ovando’s final evaluation of the Junta Magna, given in a letter to the king five years later, was not favorable.121 Most of the members did not know anything about the Indies, he wrote. They agreed on instructions to Viceroy Toledo, but though he was zealous and a hard worker, he had the land in such an uproar that he had to spend all his time pacifying it. That same junta agreed to establish the Inquisition but not everywhere in the

THE VISITA OF THE COUNCIL OF THE INDIES

137

New World where it was necessary. To have done so would have cost too much money. It was clear how few understood the affairs of the Indies. The greatest shortcoming of the Junta Magna was its failure adequately to address the questions of perpetuity and of pacification and settlements. The encomienda would grow increasingly anachronistic in a mercantile society and would eventually wither on the vine of endless discussion. The issue of conquests (but under the name of pacification) and settlements would be resolved by Ovando in his compilation of the laws of the Indies. Ovando grew increasingly frustrated with the junta system. As it turned out, such innovations as were made in colonial policy came from his personal initiative, not from the deliberations of committees.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The Grand Design

J

uan de Ovando’s visita of the Council of the Indies and the extensive information he collected provided much of the agenda for the Junta Magna and helped to direct the focus of imperial policy. Its impact, however, was not limited to this. Other aspects of the visita can be reconstructed from reports and recommendations that Ovando submitted to the king. Unfortunately, all are undated, but from internal evidence it appears that they were written sometime in 1571.1 Shortly after the close of the visita Ovando had an audience with the king, one of the few known times that they met face to face. At or after this audience Ovando submitted his recommendations in written form.2 He sounded a familiar note when he said that if steps were not taken there was danger that “everything built up in that world, spiritually and temporally, will very soon come to total ruin and destruction.”3 His observations touched on the ignorance of the councillors, the lack of organization and knowledge of existing laws, and the need for reform and new laws in the Indies. Under present circumstances “neither those who have been appointed by the Council or by those who govern the Indies have or have had any regard for the public good but only for the good of the persons appointed. This causes the destruction of the republic.”4 The incompetence and personal guilt of various councillors did not occupy him because so many of the accused were dead. There is little evidence of any systematic follow-up. Ovando was more interested in structural reform. The immediate needs were the reform of the council itself, accurate information about

THE GRAND DESIGN

139

the state of the Indies, and organization of existing legislation as a basis for a comprehensive law code. Ordinarily the king would have appointed outside judges to try the individual cases and implement the results of the visita, but in sharp contrast to standard procedure, Ovando persuaded Philip II to let him remain as visitador even after the visita was concluded.5 Equally innovative was his proposal to involve the council in the work of reform and in the formulation of laws and ordenanzas for both the council and the Indies. In this way, he told the king, the councillors would accept this work as their own, not something imposed from outside.

REFORMING THE COUNCIL OF THE INDIES On 24 September 1571 Philip II gave royal approval for Ovando’s ordenanzas for the Council of the Indies.6 Unfortunately, the two key documents describing the formulation of the ordenanzas are undated, and so it is difficult to get a clear picture of this process. One of these documents was a report to the king after the visita, in which Ovando suggested means for improving the performance of the council.7 Not only was there general ignorance in the council about the affairs of the Indies, but he doubted that the councillors could or would learn anything. Up to 1569 only six of forty councillors had had any personal experience in the Indies and two of those only briefly.8 Councillors, he wrote, should be chosen from among the deserving oidores who had experience in the New World and they should not be members of other councils. Ovando’s recommendation would have permitted a councillor to concentrate on specific areas but at the cost of coordination with other agencies. The president alone should submit the consultas on offices in the Indies, just as the president of the Council of Castile did. This would expedite the business of the council and would also avoid factionalism and favoritism among its members. The king should be consulted only about appointments to high offices in the Indies, such as those of viceroy and bishop. He suggested a number of changes in the procedures of the council. Hitherto all the councillors had to be present for discussion of even the most inconsequential business. According to Ovando, routine matters of governance could be transacted by the president with two or three councillors. Afterward the president

140

JUAN DE OVANDO

could inform the rest of the council of what business was transacted. The majority of the councillors were against this idea, but “the more sound” were in favor of it.9 Though some of these proposals were eventually implemented, three of the most important ones were not approved by the king, who apparently wanted to keep a free hand—that the places on the Council of the Indies be given to the most deserving members of the colonial audiencias, that no councillor be a member of another council, and that both these proposals be put in the ordenanzas. However, the granting of positions on the Council of the Indies was reserved exclusively to the Council of Castile and its chamber (cámara), without consultation with the Council of the Indies. Actually, the Council of Castile knew little or nothing about the Indies but was jealous of its turf. Subsequently, few oidores from the Indies were appointed to the Council of the Indies. The Ordenanzas del Consejo were signed by the king on 24 September 1571.10 They established a council consisting of one president, eight councillors, and one fiscal.11 In addition to other qualifications, all had to be Old Christians. There were numerous subordinate officials, including a secretary, two notaries, one each for administration and justice, two clerks (relatores), one advocate (abogado), and one representative (procurador) of the poor, plus assorted doorkeepers and accountants. Two important additions that had been championed by Ovando were an alguacil and the cosmógrafocronista. Of the tasks set before the council, the two most important were to learn as much as possible about the Indies and to see to the good treatment of the natives. The council was to meet every Wednesday to transact ordinary business and on the first Monday of every month to draw up consultas and advice for submission to the king.12 All proceedings were held in strict secrecy.

THE RELACIONES GEOGRÁFICAS From the beginning of the visita Ovando had concentrated on learning all he could about the New World and for that purpose searched through all the papers in the council. He quickly discovered that many of the documents that belonged to the council had gone astray, so one of his first tasks was to reclaim them. Ovando became almost obsessive in his desire to gather information on history and life in the New World. His interest went

THE GRAND DESIGN

141

beyond the merely pragmatic to include not only the current state of the Indies but also the customs, rites, history, religion, and even the eating habits of the natives from preconquest times until his own. What one author has called “a fever” of information gathering was not merely a matter of curiosity.13 Ovando wanted to build a corpus of data that would compensate for the ignorance of the Council of the Indies and prevent a recurrence of that ignorance. His gathering of information for the visita and for the council overlapped, so that it seems that the one grew out of the other.14 In 1569 Ovando sent a questionnaire of thirty-seven chapters to a number of jurisdictions, asking for information on expeditions, discoveries, navigation, and descriptions of provinces.15 In about 1570 Ovando drafted a parallel inquiry of some 200 questions to the heads of civil and ecclesiastical units to obtain more detailed coverage of these and allied subjects.16 As this was too cumbersome, in 1573 a questionnaire of a mere 135 questions was issued. A response from the licenciado Echagoian, oidor of the audiencia of Santo Domingo on the island of Española, commented on the “great work and curiosity, unseen and unheard of by any visitador up to now.”17 On 16 August 1572 Philip II signed a cédula concerning the general descriptions (descripciones generales).18 It was remarkable for the breadth and nature of the information that was sought, including not only history and politics but also geographic and ethnographic data: “the religion, government, rites, and customs that the Indians have had and do have and the description of the land, nature, and qualities of the things there.”19 Ovando was genuinely concerned about the welfare of the natives and equally concerned to preserve their preconquest history, a concern not shared by all his contemporaries. On 3 June 1573 the king issued a cédula that ordered the compilation of a book of descripciones, a sort of encyclopedia of the data that would be gathered.20 In 1575 a new questionnaire of fifty questions was sent out.21 A program as ambitious as the one envisioned by Ovando required a full-time official to supervise and implement it. For that purpose he proposed to the king the creation of the office of cosmógrafo-cronista.22 This official’s record keeping, which was to be “according to the art of geography,” included data on provinces, seas, islands, rivers, mountains, and other places according to longitude, latitude, and size. Maps, drawings, and paintings were also to be kept, based on the information received from the Indies.23

142

JUAN DE OVANDO

The first person appointed to this post was Juan López de Velasco, a close associate of Ovando’s both in the visita of the Council of the Indies and in the work of codifying the laws of the Indies. In addition to his other tasks, he was charged with compiling a history of the Indies, including preconquest times. From the end of 1571 on there were directives from the king ordering the search for data, news, and documents and their immediate forwarding to the council.24 Authorities in America were to provide information on any persons, lay or religious, who had written or collected or had in their possession any history, commentaries, or accounts of the discoveries, conquests, expeditions, or wars. The novelty of Ovando’s approach was that it institutionalized what had been a sporadic, ad hoc approach. There was now a high government office that had a twofold purpose, geographic and historical, but it proved difficult to find individuals who were equally skillful in both fields. The cosmógrafo-cronista was to a permanent resource for the council, compensating for the councillor’s general ignorance of the Indies. On 17 August 1572 Philip II sent a cédula to Viceroy Martín Enríquez directing him to gather together and send to Spain either originals or copies of all documents relating to the history of New Spain.25 On 28 March 1576 Archbishop Pedro Moya de Contreras wrote to the king, “I came to learn that an elderly Franciscan friar, named Bernardino de Sahagún and the best Nahuatl speaker in all New Spain, which is what is most essential for the true history of the natives, has put together a general [history] of the things of this New Spain.”26 Ovando asked to see a copy of the work.27 In Spain another Franciscan, Miguel Navarro, gave Ovando a summary of Sahagun’s work. Because the original was written in Nahuatl, Ovando asked for a translation. The Franciscan provincial in New Spain ordered Sahagún to make the translation, which was forwarded to Spain. The translation was done in relative haste between 1575 and 1577.28 The fate of this history and of Ovando’s project is discussed below. Ovando’s interest extended to the scientific sphere. He was responsible for dispatching at least one scientific expedition to the New World, perhaps even before he joined the Council of the Indies.29 This was the mission of Doctor Francisco Hernández, who went to New Spain in about 1570.30 Ovando and Hernández were good friends who had been in Seville together. Hernández’s office was that of protomédico, general supervisor of

THE GRAND DESIGN

143

all scientific endeavors. In New Spain he collected botanical, medicinal, and other specimens for Ovando and reported on various natural phenomena.31 At Ovando’s urging, he wrote a major work, De Antiquitatibus Novae Hispaniae (On the Antiquities of New Spain). Unfortunately for Hernández, Ovando’s death in 1575 meant the loss of his best friend at court, and his work was suppressed because of the crown’s fear of separatism.32 One of the most valuable of the various relaciones was drawn up before Ovando became president of the council. As part of the visita he sent a questionnaire to Alonso de Montúfar, the second archbishop of Mexico, asking for a comprehensive report on his archdiocese.33 The archbishop was to gather information on persons, lay or ecclesiastical, in his archdiocese “and about what they know, believe, understand, may have seen or heard say, that in any way whatever may belong to the visita of the Council of the Indies and of the persons visited.”34 He was also to report anything these individuals might know about how the Council of the Indies carried out its business “and if there is or has been any lack, carelessness or wrongdoing.”35 The amount of detailed information that Ovando requested was staggering. He wanted copies of all official documents concerning the archdiocese and the ecclesiastical jurisdictions within it, a list of all former and present bishops, authorized copies of the statutes of the principal church, the rules for choir, the acts of provincial and diocesan synods and the persons who attended them and where they were held; copies of all instructions given to provisores and visitadores and the provisions given to diocesan clerics and religious for ministering to and instructing the Indians; and copies of the catechism being used, the acts of the religious chapters, the instructions for visitadores of the religious orders, the schedule of fees in ecclesiastical courts, orders and instructions that governed the financial administration of the cathedral and other churches. There was to be a list and description of all churches, whether cathedrals or mother churches, parishes, monasteries; privately endowed churches, hospitals, and colleges and who built them, when, and who the patrons were; all benefices and ecclesiastical offices with the names of their previous and current holders; and a list of all doctrinas, the number of diocesan clergy in the archdiocese, when and how they were licensed to go to the Indies, and their qualifications. The archbishop was also to submit a list and description of all towns

144

JUAN DE OVANDO

of Spaniards and Indians in the archdiocese together with the number of inhabitants and homes in each. Ovando also wanted a report on discoveries, expeditions, new settlements, and navigation.36 Because of Montúfar’s age and ailments, it seems likely that the response was drawn up by his vicar general, the Dominican Bartolomé de Ledesma, who had been effectively ruling the archdiocese for some years. What is truly remarkable is that the final report contained almost all the information requested. The resulting Descripción del arzobispado de México is of surpassing importance for the information that it contains on church and society in New Spain in 1570. The majority of the responses to the various questionnaires arrived after Ovando’s death. There was little consistency in them. Some respondents returned the questionnaire quickly, others dallied for years. Some were detailed, others were superficial. Many respondents took the occasion to indulge in special pleading, including some natives of New Spain who responded in Nahuatl. Yet for all their shortcomings, they remain a supremely valuable source for modern scholars. This undoubtedly was one of the most farsighted and important of all of Juan de Ovando’s accomplishments. In 1577, after Ovando’s death, there was a sharp change in the royal policy regarding information sought from the Indies. On 22 April the king ordered that all copies of works dealing with the natives and their preconquest history be confiscated and sent to Spain.37 The crown was becoming increasingly concerned about the attitudes of the mendicants, especially the Franciscans, who were thought to identify too closely with the natives. The specter of native revolt coupled with the fear of the impact of the friars’ millenarian sentiments on the natives led to the suppression of Sahagún’s history as well as those of Diego Durán, Andrés de Olmos, Toribio de Benavente Motolinía, Martín de la Corona, Francisco Hernández, Gerónimo de Mendieta, and López de Gómara. Although the Inquisition is sometimes mentioned in connection with the confiscation, it was not involved. This was a matter of royal policy.38

TOWARD A CODIFICATION OF THE LAWS OF THE INDIES One of the most formidable tasks faced by Ovando was organizing and revising the vast body of legislation that had accumulated since the early

THE GRAND DESIGN

145

days of discovery and conquest. The laws were kept in almost two hundred registers (registros) but without any attempt at order. The process that Ovando and his associates followed was threefold: locating and bringing together all the cédulas, provisions, and laws that had been issued since the earliest days of conquest and settlement; putting them in order according to books and titles; and editing and amending these so as to form an entirely new and comprehensive code of laws for the Indies. Unfortunately, the lack of precision in Ovando’s reports and the lack of any sure dating make it difficult to reconstruct with exactitude the process of compilation and codification. The idea of assembling the existing legislation did not originate with Ovando. The first attempt at a collection of royal cédulas was made by Francisco Fernández de Liévana, fiscal of the Council of the Indies, in about 1562.39 Almost nothing is known of these efforts. In 1560 Philip II directed Luis de Velasco, viceroy of New Spain, to compile the various laws of the viceroyalty. Velasco entrusted this work to the oidor Vasco de Puga who in 1563 published his Cedulario, a collection of various cédulas and provisions.40 However, it was limited to New Spain, and the rapid accumulation of ad hoc responses and legislation soon limited its usefulness. In 1563, perhaps even earlier, Juan López de Velasco began work on a compilation and continued it through 1564–65, apparently without supervision by the council. Little is known about this work, but when Ovando began his visita López de Velasco had been laying the groundwork for several years.41 The next step was to organize these materials according to a systematic plan. Ovando decided to make a compilation of all laws and ordinances from 1492 to 1570 “in the form of ordenanzas, in one volume, divided into seven books.”42 The format that he presented to the king subdivided these into titles and laws under the headings spiritual government, temporal government, the Indians, the republic of the Spaniards, matters of justice, the royal treasury, and navigation and trade in the Indies. From this emerged the compilation Ovando called the Copulata de leyes y provisiones, which José de la Peña Cámara credited more to López de Velasco than to Ovando. Supporting this attribution is the fact that the Copulata was put together with great rapidity, presupposing a process of compilation that was already well advanced.43 The Copulata was the foundation on which the codification of the laws of the Indies was to be built. For the most part,

146

JUAN DE OVANDO

it contained extracts or summaries of cédulas and provisions. With López de Velasco as a guide, it served the Council of the Indies as a resource for previous policies and actions in the Indies. Ovando drew up a cumbersome process for formulating the new law code. As each book was finished, it was to be submitted to the king for his approval and signature. It would then be sent to the appropriate officials in the Indies for implementation. At the same time these officials—viceroys, audiencias, bishops, and provincial councils—would be asked for opinions. The final code would be the result of this consultation. It was unusual for a law to be subject to change after the king had signed and promulgated it.44 This was another of Ovando’s innovations, but it was not destined to last. By mid-1571 Ovando had submitted to the council the first two books, and it had approved book 1, Libro de gobernación espiritual, and title 2 of book 2, Ordenanzas.45 Of Ovando’s compilation, only four parts were published and promulgated. This was done on a piecemeal basis, without waiting for the completion of the entire corpus. Two of these have already been described: the Ordenanzas for the Council of the Indies (24 September 1571) and the Ordenanzas on descriptions (3 July 1573). The other two were the Ordenanzas on pacification and settlements (13 July 1573) and the Ordenanza del patronazgo real (1 June 1574). The last two took immediate effect in the Indies and were later incorporated in great part into the Recopilación de leyes de las Indias of 1680. The Ordenanzas for the Council of the Indies remained in force until new ones were promulgated in 1636. Of Ovando’s original ordenanzas, only those that were incorporated into the revision of 1636 found their way into the Recopilación of 1680. Those that covered the description of the state of the Indies were not only quickly forgotten but left no trace in the Recopilación of 1680. The process of compiling and codifying the laws remained unfinished at Ovando’s death. There were attempts to continue the work, but these proved largely unsuccessful. Possibly Ovando was the only person with sufficient ambition and energy to complete the work. Perhaps most of the councillors simply did not want that type of reform. Lethargy and bureaucratic inertia may also have played a role. It was only in 1680 that the Recopilación de leyes de las Indias was finally published, more than a century after Ovando’s death.

THE GRAND DESIGN

147

SPIRITUAL ADMINISTRATION When Ovando was conducting his investigation of the council, he also worked on the first volume of the proposed compilation, De la gobernación espiritual, completing the first version early in 1569.46 In his undated report to Philip II after the conclusion of the visita, Ovando offered his vision of the Libro de gobernación espiritual.47 The first question was that of the tithes from the Indies, all of which, by papal concession, belonged to the king. For the construction of churches that had taken place up to that time, the king conceded the tithes to the churches and their ministers in perpetuity, reserving two-ninths of one-half, or one-ninth of the total, for himself. The new Libro de gobernación espiritual reserved to the king two-ninths of the total. Ovando suggested that the royal concession should be not be perpetual but according to the will and pleasure of the monarch. This would provide more flexibility when times changed. One extraordinary proposal that Ovando made was that all churches to be erected in the Indies in the future should be regulares, that is, entrusted to the religious according to the model that he forwarded to the king.48 In his opinion this would satisfy the friars, there would be more of them, there would be better relationships with the bishops, the churches would be subject to the diocesan clergy “who are a very poor and wretched people,” and the churches could be supported with less expense and without the pomp of diocesan churches. It would eliminate greed among the friars (he did not explain how) and their need to exact tithes and alms from their parishioners. It would also relieve the king of the need to support the religious from the royal treasury, which in New Spain cost 36,000 pesos annually. This, he admitted in a masterpiece of understatement, was an innovation, since all parishes in the Indies, in contrast to mission stations, had been established as diocesan. The question, he concluded, should be discussed both in the Council of the Indies and in the provincial councils to be held in the Indies. The model of the proposal found in the Gobernación espiritual was somewhat different from that proposed to the king.49 The plan was to be implemented only in those areas where the majority of the inhabitants were natives. In those places the entire church structure, from bishop to parish priests, would be composed of religious. The bishop would be a religious, would live in the religious house closest to the cathedral or principal church,

148

JUAN DE OVANDO

and would simultaneously function as religious superior. All goods, both of the order and of the diocese, would be held in common. Eventually diocesan bishops and clergy would yield to the religious in these areas. He was proposing two parallel churches: one for the natives and mission areas, consisting entirely of religious, the other for Spaniards and more settled areas, under regular diocesan administration and staffing. Ovando’s proposal would have spelled the end of doctrinas, mission stations that had passed beyond missionary status and most of whose parishioners were Indians. They were not parishes in the proper canonical sense, for if they were, the religious would have had to yield them to diocesan clergy, as many bishops wanted. In the sixteenth century the office of pastor was considered incompatible with the religious life. The theory was that the friars would work in the missions, and once the missions were stabilized, they would become regular diocesan parishes, and the friars would make way for the diocesan pastors. The doctrinas had created great tension between bishops and religious, with the latter claiming independence of the local ordinary.50 Ovando sought to obviate this difficulty by putting everything in the hands of the religious. On the face of it he wanted to turn the friars into parish priests, something that not only ran counter to their constitutions and traditions but also would bring them directly under the control of the bishops, even if they all belonged to the same order.51 There is no further information about the fate of this proposal, and the later Ordenanza general del patronazgo real would move in the opposite direction. There is reason to suspect that like his attempt to have letrados appointed viceroys, it was too revolutionary. It is also difficult to believe that the proposal would have had the beneficial effects he claimed for it. Ovando then broached the need for some sort of order and regulation in the church in the Indies. Here he dealt with the subject very much in the spirit of the Catholic Reformation: “The churches are not well ordered nor endowed or provided with ministers, and those that they do have are useless, appointed through favoritism and partiality and not as a public matter.” He then gave a devastating critique of the state of the church in the New World. There is no bishop in the church [diocese] of San Juan de Puerto Rico. Santo Domingo was sixteen years without a bishop. In Cuba there is

THE GRAND DESIGN

149

a bishop but on the entire island there are not four diocesan priests. In Venezuela there are only a bishop and an aged, decrepit dean. There is no bishop in Cartagena, Guatemala, Nicaragua, Tlaxcala, Nueva Galicia. The one in Mexico is so old as to be useless. There is none in the Nuevo Reino [de Granada]. The one in Popayán is not worth much [de muy poca substancia]. [The archbishop] of Lima is very old and would like to resign. Cuzco has been without a bishop for ten years. Tucumán is without a bishop. And although for many of these places they have been named and appointed, they have not gone because they seek these dignities more to escape being friars and out of vanity than embracing the work that the office of bishop brings with it. And those who have made the appointments have concentrated more on their friends than on those who could do the work well.52 What Ovando envisaged was an all-encompassing body of legislation that would regulate almost every aspect of religious life in the Indies: the Libro de gobernación espiritual. According to a preliminary list it was to have included twenty-two parts: (1) laws, cédulas, provisions, and ordenanzas for the government of the Indies; (2) the Most Holy Trinity and the Holy Catholic Faith; (3) the sacraments; (4) bishops; (5) clerics; (6) religious orders; (7) vows and promises; (8) excommunication, suspension, and interdict; (9) churches; (10) privileges and immunities of churches and their cemeteries; (11) monasteries, churches, and other properties of religious orders; (12) burials; (13) properties of churches; (14) the right of patronage; (15) benefices; (16) first fruits; (17) offerings; (18) tithes; (19) smallholdings by diocesan clergy; (20) mortgages and taxes given by churches; (21) feast days, fasting, and alms; and (22) pilgrimages and the poor.53 This reads much like an agenda for a provincial council or an abbreviated code of canon law. There are four known manuscripts of the Libro de gobernación espiritual. One is in the Archivo Histórico Nacional, Madrid. González thinks that this may have been Ovando’s original prepared for the Council of the Indies.54 It has no signature, date, or authentication. There is another in the Biblioteca Nacional in Madrid.55 It was written between 1570 and 1571 and signed by members of the Council of the Indies. Apparently, this copy was to be given to Philip II for revision and comments. The other two manuscripts are in the library of the royal palace in Madrid in the Colección de

150

JUAN DE OVANDO

Copias brought together by Manuel José de Ayala under the title Miscelánea, volume xxi, numbers 2848 and 2849. They are written in two different hands. The most notable variation in the four manuscripts is that the proposal for religious churches is lacking in the Biblioteca Nacional manuscript but is found in the other three at the end of title 9, numbers 81 to 92.56 The manuscript of the Libro de gobernación espiritual in the Biblioteca Nacional has been transcribed and published together with cross-references to the other manuscripts by González.57 Because the Gobernación espiritual was not signed by the king or promulgated, it did not have an immediate impact on the Indies. The most likely reason for this was fear of opposition from the papacy, which did not want to see its power over the church in the Indies further eroded. Gregory XIII, who became pope on 13 May 1573, was openly hostile to the reforms of Philip II and the attempt to reclaim some authority over the church in mission lands. Many of the provisions were later incorporated into the decrees of various provincial councils, most notably the Third Council of Lima (1583) and the Third Council of Mexico (1585). Ovando’s reforms took root in an indirect and belated fashion.

THE ORDENANZA DEL PATRONAZGO REAL By 1574 most of the crown’s, and Ovando’s, attempts to gain full control of the church in the Indies had failed. Besides the Libro de gobernación espiritual, the attempt to establish a patriarchate of the Indies, which also would have emancipated the church from papal control, had also failed.58 Ovando faced a nagging problem—how to bring the missionary friars under the control of the crown without causing them to withdraw from their mission. At one of the meetings of the Junta Magna it was decided that the section on religious should be sent as a separate cédula, that is, the Ordenanza del patronazgo real, the only part of the entire Gobernación espiritual that was published or promulgated. Perhaps this was done because of royal reluctance to submit all of book 1 to the papacy or because of a sense of urgency to settle the mendicant question.59 Philip II signed the Ordenanza del patronazgo real on 1 June 1574. This was published as a royal decree, without mention of the codification that was in progress.60 The cédula opened with a ringing declaration of the absolute and total nature of the right of patronage.61 Anyone who violated it

THE GRAND DESIGN

151

“being a secular person, will incur the loss of the favors that he may have from us in the entire state of the Indies, and will be ineligible to have and obtain others and will be permanently exiled from all our kingdoms.”62 No church, cathedral, or religious building of any type could be built or established without express royal permission, nor could any archdiocese, diocese, or any ecclesiastical office be instituted without the same permission. It regulated the provision of benefices and appointments to ecclesiastical cabildos, for which letrados were preferred to other candidates. It also provided for the participation of the viceroy and the local audiencias in this process, a participation that gave them a high degree of control. Arrangements were made for the religious instruction of the Indians in places where there were no benefices or ecclesiastical offices. In contrast to previous procedures, this one applied to all ecclesiastical offices, “all residential and simple benefices, secular and religious,” all of which were now under the control of the bishops and civil officials.63 Behind the legal terminology lay an attack against the privileges of the mendicant friars, especially in the doctrinas. These replacements were to be chosen by competition (oposición). The names of the top two candidates were to be submitted to the viceroy or president of the audiencia, who would make the choice and give it to the bishop for canonical conferral. The cédula was a stark document. It had little in the way of introduction or context other than the protection of the right of patronage. It was a tactical response to a perceived threat to the Spanish empire, with the mendicants as the special target. That it regulated other aspects of church life was in some ways secondary. It was taken out of its original context so as to bring order to the church of New Spain and especially to bring the mendicants’ doctrinas under the control of the bishops and the civil authorities. The friars in the New World reacted with disbelief and outrage. They firmly rejected any attempt to bring them under the control of the bishops or the local civil government. In New Spain Archbishop Moya de Contreras attempted to persuade them that the ordenanza was for their good and that of their flocks, but his soothing words had little effect.64 In December 1574 the provincials of the principal orders sent a letter to Philip II threatening to withdraw from New Spain altogether. In 1575 the representatives of the religious went to Spain and personally asked the king to rescind the ordenanza. This he did, in large part, but also left the way open to reviving it. Over the next few years, however, the policy switched back

152

JUAN DE OVANDO

and forth, with the crown gaining with each change. In the period up to 1600 the quality of the diocesan clergy improved and more and more of them moved into the doctrinas.65 By the beginning of the seventeenth century, the secular church had won out over the friars’ church.

PACIFICATION AND SETTLEMENTS During the first years after the discovery, Spain’s rule in the New World was characterized by brutality, lawlessness, and instability. In the Caribbean islands conquest, exploitation, and European diseases led to the wholesale destruction of the native population. Some of the conquistadors were veterans of Spain’s European wars; others were ruthless adventurers. Fernando Cortés had a certain level of education and statecraft, but Francisco Pizarro, though his father claimed hidalgo status, was illegitimate, illiterate, and brutal. Pedrarias Dávila in Darién, Nuño de Guzmán in New Spain, and Hernán de Soto in the American Southwest—loathsome creatures all—were typical of this breed of conquistador. While New Spain remained relatively quiet, especially after the Avila-Cortés conspiracy, Peru was rent by violent civil wars. In the early years Spanish control of its New World possessions was sometimes tenuous, especially during the time of the comunero revolts. From 1492 until the first years of the sixteenth century, when effective control of colonial policy was in the hands of Bishop Fonseca of Burgos and Lope de Conchillos, there was no attempt to rein in the conquistadors. For eighty years, Castile groped toward a coherent policy on conquests and imperial expansion. Through a variety of legislation and royal orders, the crown sought to reconcile the sometimes violent expansion of its empire with the concept of just war, the rights of native peoples, and an overarching obligation of spreading the Christian faith. However varied these efforts may have been, there was one constant: royal control of conquests and settlements. Most of these were undertaken by private individuals using their own or others’ finances, yet contingent on the approval of the crown and subject to its dictates. There was no room for unfettered private enterprise. The progress of legislation on this point, and hence the question of the sources that Ovando and his coworkers may have used, is complex, if only because of the large number of laws, provisions, and cédulas that

THE GRAND DESIGN

153

accumulated during the sixteenth century.66 One of the earliest attempts to regulate the situation in the Indies was the Laws of Burgos of 1512–13.67 To the dismay of the humanitarians, these laws legalized the encomienda and fixed it on colonial society. On 17 November 1526 Charles V issued a decree to ensure that conquests were carried out justly. This included the proviso that every expedition had to have two ecclesiastics to instruct the natives and protect them from the rapacity of the Spaniards. Of this decree Lewis Hanke states, perhaps somewhat hyperbolically, that it “remained as standard for a generation and was never officially superseded by any other general law until Philip II issued his 1573 ordinances.”68 However, it was the New Laws of 1542, the work in large part of Bartolomé de las Casas, that extended royal control and most closely regulated SpanishIndian relations. Though they were concerned primarily with the good treatment of the Indian, they also regulated conquests. The laws abolished Indian slavery and condemned the encomienda to extinction. Although some of the more stringent provisions were eventually repealed, the New Laws marked a definite step forward in pro-Indian legislation and had a strong impact on the royal ordinances of 1573. Balancing royal power and his obligations to the native peoples was a question that vexed Charles V throughout much of his reign. In his “political testament” of January 1548, he counseled his son to find a balance between his position as king and the good of the indigenous peoples.69 On 3 July 1549 the Council of the Indies, pressured by denunciations of abuses, sent a consulta to the emperor about preventing new conquests from that time. On 31 December he issued a provision directed to the audiencias and justices of the Indies, in which it was stated that in view of the harm suffered by the Indians further expeditions and settlements were prohibited, even with the approval of the governors, under pain of death and the loss of goods.70 Matters came to a head with the famous disputation at Valladolid in 1550–51, at which las Casas and Juan Ginés de Sepúlveda propounded their differing opinions on the Spanish right to conquer and rule.71 In preparation for this debate, on 16 April 1550 Charles V suspended all conquests until their morality could be determined.72 Though the Valladolid disputation stands out as a high-water mark for the defense of the Indians, in fact the judges never delivered a verdict. In 1556, after the insurrection of Hernández Girón in Peru (1553–54), Charles V authorized renewed discoveries with certain restrictions. These

154

JUAN DE OVANDO

were given in the instructions to the viceroy, marqués de Cañete, on 13 May 1556. Francisco Morales Padrón sees these instructions as one of the sources for the Ordenanzas.73 Therefore, in preparing their Ordenanzas, Ovando and his collaborators had at hand abundant material dealing with this matter. The date when they were completed is a matter of dispute. Peña Cámara cites two orders of payment of January and April 1568 that indicated that the Ordenanzas had already been compiled by those dates. Ismael Sánchez Bella, however, believes that Ovando and his collaborators used the 30 November 1568 instruction to Viceroy Toledo, of which there is an extract in the Copulata. In addition, the correspondence of Viceroy Toledo in 1572 seems to have been annotated by the councillors with reference to the Ordenanzas as a work still in preparation: “In conquests, discoveries, settlement, and pacifications, follow the instruction that will be sent to you.”74 Sánchez Bella believes it possible that their redaction may have taken place in 1571–72. Ovando’s ordenanzas for new discoveries, settlements, and pacifications, the cornerstone of royal policy throughout the rest of the colonial period, were promulgated by Philip II from Bosque de Segovia on 13 July 1573.75 The text consisted of 148 chapters divided into three groups or sections.76 In the first of these, Ovando followed the instructions that had been given to the marqués de Cañete and Viceroy Toledo. The other two—the regulation of new settlements, and laws on the work of pacification—were original to him. The Ordenanzas of 1573 reflected the ideas and policies that had taken shape over the year: state control, respect for the natives, Christianization. They were not new policy created by Ovando.77 It is especially significant that the text of the king’s cédula of promulgation both in the published version and in the manuscript in the Instituto de Valencia de Don Juan begins by quoting and incorporating in full the New Laws of 1542.78 What did the Ordenanzas actually say? The overall features of the legislation are those of centralization and control. The crown assumed minute and detailed control over the entire process of expansion and settlement. Private action without authorization was to be severely punished with the penalty of death and the loss of all goods. No new discovery, expedition, or settlement could be made at the expense of the royal treasury. The word conquest could not be used lest “the name provide the opportunity or pretext that force or grievance can be used against the Indians.” If war was

THE GRAND DESIGN

155

made, it had to be “for the defense of the settlers and in order that the settlement not be hindered.”79 Relations with the natives were to be carried out “by way of commerce and barter with gifts and peace.” The Spaniards were to make friends with them, showing them much love,” without “causing them any harm or hurt nor taking their possessions from them against their will”80 To carry out the enterprise, preference was given to religious.81 In all cases the persons who were to be entrusted with the discovery “should be approved for their Christianity and good conscience, zealous for the honor of God and our service, lovers of peace and whatever concerns the conversion of the Indians,” and in their actions, they should observe strictly the ordenanzas and instructions.82 Christianity was not to be imposed by force. The natives should be persuaded that “of their own will they should give up that which is contrary to our Holy Catholic Faith.”83 To attract them, they should see the advantages brought by keeping them in justice, the burdens that have been lifted from them, and the material goods they received.84 If necessary, they could be granted a temporary exemption from tributes.85 It is not going too far to say that these requirements reflect the influence of las Casas. They also reflect a Eurocentric attitude and utopian vision. In the chapters dealing with new settlements, there was a plethora of regulations that dealt with every imaginable contingency. It was city planning on a grand scale.86 Norms were laid down for the selection of the site and the election of town councils. The nature and duties of the office of adelantado were carefully spelled out. It is significant that the institution of the encomienda was retained. These could be given for three lifetimes. Settlers were given lands and ranches that would become theirs in perpetuity after five years of residence.87 Conditions were laid down for settling a “villa,” for example, the number and social status of settlers and what animals they were to have, the amount of land that was to be received and how it was to be divided. The fields were common, except for pastures (dehesa). New settlements were to be laid out “with core and rule, beginning from the plaza mayor [main plaza],” which is described in detail, as is the cathedral, the royal buildings, and the hospitals.88 Provisions for defense were to be made as soon as practicable. Ovando’s Ordenanzas were an attempt to harmonize the spread of empire and Christianity with the demands of justice for the native peoples. It is remarkable that the text of these regulations begins with a complete

156

JUAN DE OVANDO

citation of the New Laws of 1542 together with their later changes and additions—the same legislation that had provoked a revolt in Peru and came close to doing so in New Spain. The crown never really let go of them. The picture of Philip II’s reign as a time when the “American reality” and financial distress caused the crown to accept institutionalized exploitation of the natives needs to be modified. Ovando himself was deeply committed to securing justice for the native population. Granted that these ordinances may have been less than effective in practice and that many exceptions were permitted, they still stand out as unique in modern history. No other colonial empire went to such lengths to regulate its expansion and to see that it was done without detriment to the indigenous peoples. The ordinances were generally known in the Indies. Copies were given to explorers and settlers, along with special instructions that accompanied their contracts (capitulaciones). As Sánchez Bella has observed, “[T]he most important conclusion may be to verify that the policy of peaceful penetration into Indian territories, in place of that of violent war, firmly planted by the Spanish monarchy beginning with the New Laws of 1542–1543 and reaffirmed in the ordinances of 1573, was maintained in general lines in the following century.”89 The ordenanzas were idealistic in two senses. First, they were high principled, recognizing moral obligations in the expansion and administration of the world’s first global empire. They sought to harmonize two realities: the religious and the expansionist. The second kind of idealism was the expectation that such detailed and meticulous laws would or could be implemented in territories thousands of miles from the mother country. Spanish policy from the earliest days until the 1570s had been one of asserting royal control over conquests and settlements. The ordenanzas were the final and definitive expression of that control. It is true that exceptions were made to the regulations, but these exceptions came from the crown and were controlled by it. There was no room for filibustering expeditions or untrammeled individual enterprise. The ordenanzas remained the defining royal policy for the rest of the colonial period.

PRESIDENT OF THE COUNCIL OF THE INDIES Ovando was appointed to succeed Luis Méndez de Quijada as president of the Council of the Indies on 28 August 1571, with an annual salary of 500,000

THE GRAND DESIGN

157

maravedís.90 The cédula of appointment directed the council to receive Ovando’s oath of office immediately, without the need for additional royal letters. On 29 August he took the oath, and in the ritual followed by Spanish officialdom at that time the councillors kissed the royal order and put it on their heads as a sign of acceptance. On 3 September 1571 he received his first payment of 169,444 maravedís.91 Ovando lost no time consolidating his powers at the expense of the council as a whole. In this he was undoubtedly aided by Philip II’s suspicion of the councillors and their known incompetence. The king began this process by implementing some of Ovando’s previous recommendations for streamlining the council’s business. On 24 September 1571 he granted Ovando discretionary power to hold separate meetings to deal with matters of administration. After that he would report to the council what had been decided, and the councillors could then make their comments. On the same day he made another change in procedure, undoubtedly at Ovando’s behest: when petitions for grants or favors that required a consulta with the king came before the council, the petitioners were not to be told that the matter was going to the king, as had been done up to that time. In this way, in the event of refusal the king could avoid direct blame. This order was to be kept secret.92 The greatest grant of power came on 6 October 1571 when the king decreed that only Ovando could recommend names for appointment to higher offices in the Indies. These offices were specified: bishops, viceroys, presidents of the audiencias in all the Indies, oidores and alcaldes del crimen of the audiencias of Mexico and Lima, alguaciles mayores (constables) of these audiencias and the cities of Mexico and Lima, all the treasury officials of Mexico and Lima, and all notaries throughout the Indies.93 Ovando would have the same authority with regard to the lesser offices: ecclesiastical benefices and ecclesiastical and civil offices, jueces de comisión (investigative judges), notaries, receptores, and all other commissaries “who were to be nominated in the council for those kingdoms and outside of them.”94 Also on 6 October, the king revoked the ordenanza that the president of the council could not vote in lawsuits and matters of justice and granted that right to Ovando.95 These were sweeping delegations of royal power, and no other president had had the like. Ovando now had the dominant voice in all appointments in the New World, and the councillors were effectively excluded

158

JUAN DE OVANDO

from all appointments. It is clear that they resented these grants, but it was only in 1591, after Ovando’s death, that the council recovered its former authority.96 For four crucial years Juan de Ovando was the Council of the Indies.

PROTECTING THE INDIES The protection of the Indies against English and French corsairs was an overwhelming concern of the Council of the Indies during Ovando’s presidency. He was continually receiving reports on maritime and military activity in the New World. In 1571, for example, the adelantado Juan Ortiz de Zárate sent him a complete report on the ships and artillery at the province of Río de la Plata.97 Security was vital to the biannual convoys that carried bullion, merchandise, and mail between Spain and the New World. Castile depended on these flotas to bring in silver from the mines of New Spain and Peru. In addition, there was concern that the captains delayed the departure of the flotas in order to cram more private merchandise onto the ships. Unauthorized merchandise and passengers were also crossing the Atlantic. Merchants exaggerated the value of their goods so as to collect more insurance or undervalued them so as to escape the import and export taxes. Some ships were sailing alone, apart from the flotas. The galleons of the armada commanded by the adelantado Pedro Menéndez de Avilés were costing 160,000 ducados a year. Worse, they would come and go whenever the occasion presented itself, but it was impossible to get them to leave on time, and there was a suspicion that they delayed in order to pick up more merchandise for trading in the Indies. The council suggested that there be two galleys on the coast and two on the barlovento (windward) islands; that should be enough to discourage corsairs.98 In November 1575 a royal secretary, probably Vázquez de Leca, wrote to an unnamed person, probably Ovando, about the king’s concern for the safety of the route to the Indies and for the timely departure of flotas and armadas. The king directed Ovando to reread all the papers on this point, not in council, but separately with Gasca and Santillán, though at different times some members of the Council of War were present. The king wanted to know if there was any other way to transport money, for example, jointly

THE GRAND DESIGN

159

from New Spain and Peru. He wanted this last point to be considered in the council.99 Maritime security was not Ovando’s only concern. On 31 January 1572 the city of Segovia, in the region of La Plata, sent a plea to him to halt the banditry and freebooting activity that was disrupting their area.100

LETRADOS FOR VICEROYS Martín Enríquez de Almansa had been viceroy of New Spain since 1568. A brusque but capable administrator, he had done a great deal to restore the prestige of the viceregal office and bring order to a potentially fractious colony. Ovando and Enríquez did not always get on. Like his patron Espinosa, Ovando tended to show a certain disdain for the old nobility. In 1573 Enríquez rebuked him for this: “Your Excellency should not treat me in any way except as a superior.”101 By 1574 Enríquez seems to have grown tired of the factionalism and infighting associated with his office, though he wrote to the king that he wanted to return to Spain because of his age and infirmities.102 His request prompted Ovando to make one of his most audacious efforts to solidify letrado control of the Spanish imperial bureaucracy. Philip II was first consulted about a successor for Enríquez in February 1574.103 The king believed that Enríquez should be persuaded to remain, if possible, because he had governed the land so well. But if his health did not permit it, he should inform the king on the next flota. If he could not wait, he could return on that same flota and leave Archbishop Moya de Contreras as temporary viceroy. Given the hostility between Enríquez and Moya de Contreras, that was hardly a realistic suggestion and was perhaps designed to keep the viceroy at his post. When the flota returned in February 1575, it brought the news that Enríquez still wanted to return. The council looked at his letters and suggested that the king send a successor on the flota that was due to leave in April. This was not done, and in May Ovando assured Enríquez that the king was very satisfied with his work and wanted to grant him a merced. He put the viceroy off, telling him that the king would try to send him a successor but was now very busy.104 With the arrival of Enríquez’s letters in February, Ovando began a campaign to have a letrado appointed as viceroy. He suggested that if Enríquez was allowed to retire, a letrado should replace him because of the money it would save in salary.105 It was an unheard-of proposal, one that was clearly intended to enhance the status of the letrado bureaucracy and

160

JUAN DE OVANDO

was supported by the Council of the Indies and the audiencias of Mexico and Lima.106 Saving money was a strong inducement to a financially straitened monarchy. Ovando sent the king a list of possible successors but also included a list of candidates for the post of viceroy of Peru. No títulos or grandes were named, only letrados, “because it has now been a year since your Majesty was consulted and was pleased to order that henceforth it would remain agreed in this way.”107 Since this was taking place at the height of the financial crisis, Philip may have felt there was no alternative. In New Spain the salary would be 12,000 ducados a year, one-half of the current salary. In Peru the salary would be 15,000 ducados, less than half of the current 40,000.108 Yet the proposal was a veritable revolution in government. The viceroy was not just another official, he literally stood in the place of the king. It was a position that in the thought of the time only a member of the nobility could fulfill. A month after this consulta, Ovando was still urging the king to appoint a successor to Enríquez.109 Ultimately, his efforts were in vain. The irony, of course, was that Enríquez was never allowed to retire. Instead he was appointed viceroy of Peru in 1580 and died there three years later. He was succeeded in New Spain by the amiable but ineffective conde de Coruña (1580–83). Ovando’s plan for an empire governed by letrados had suffered a setback, but it was probably doomed from the start. Without a standing army, a letrado, especially if he came from humble circumstances, could not hope to inspire the awe necessary for the post. It would have been too radical a departure from tradition. The vice-king had to come from the military aristocracy. This must have been a frustrating time for Ovando. In addition to all the other problems he had to deal with, he tried to hurry Philip II into making a decision, but haste was not in the king’s nature.110 On 14 March he submitted numerous suggestions for filling offices in the Indies. This included many lesser offices, in accord with the delegation given to him. One such office was the factor of Mexico, which offers still another insight into how the government functioned. Ovando was against selling the office because there was no assurance of the person’s honesty. There had been some bad experiences in that regard. The salary was not enough to recover what the person had paid for the office, so there was a temptation to dishonesty. Ovando observed that the accountant (contador de cuentas) in Mexico City, after five years in office and a salary of 3,000 ducados a

THE GRAND DESIGN

161

year, still had not finished half his accounts. So the Council of the Indies had ordered him to return. Ovando suggested eliminating the office and having the factor do the accounts, thus saving the salary. Ovando had just sent out an order that all treasury officials in the Indies who did not finish their accounts on time would lose their jobs.111 Ovando’s work with the Council of the Indies was probably the most important of his career. He brought his obsession with order and organization to bear on a chaotic situation. He reorganized the council, began the process of codifying the laws of the Indies, sought to give the crown comprehensive knowledge of its New World possessions, and worked to establish control over restive colonies while at the same time preserving the rights of the natives. Tragically, some of these projects died when he did. There was simply no one else with Ovando’s vision, ability, and dedication to carry through all these projects. In many ways the bureaucracy reverted to its former practices. Most notably, after Ovando’s death on 8 September 1575 the Council of the Indies was without a president until the appointment of Antonio de Padilla on 18 July 1579, a period of almost four years.112

CHAPTER NINE

The Road to Bankruptcy

R

oyal finances in Spain throughout the sixteenth century were precarious at best, but during the forty-two year reign of Philip II the crown lurched from one fiscal crisis to another.1 The reason was not difficult to find: expenditures outpaced income at an ever-increasing rate. A solution defied the best efforts of the king and his advisers. The problem was intensified by structural weaknesses in the financial administration and a general ignorance of financial matters that extended from the king down through the majority of his councillors. Philip admitted in 1574, “You are aware of my ignorance as to financial affairs. I cannot tell a good memorial on the subject from a bad one. And I do not wish to break my brains trying to comprehend something which I do not understand nor have ever understood in all my days.”2 The sources of the financial crises were complex and in good part were inherited from the previous reign. The very size of the Spanish empire required an immense financial outlay. Ruling the Holy Roman Empire, parts of Italy, the Low Countries, and the Indies, Charles V was compelled to spend more money than any previous Spanish monarch. His reign was marked by almost continuous warfare that seriously depleted Spain’s resources, and his son’s reign of forty-two years would see only six months of peace.3 A consistent rise in prices throughout the sixteenth century accelerated the demand for money. When Philip II ascended the throne almost all royal revenues were mortgaged or encumbered in some way. While relieved of the burden of the Germanies, he found himself facing some of

THE ROAD TO BANKRUPTCY

163

the same problems as his father: a growing bureaucratic apparatus, mounting royal expenses, and continuous wars, especially the revolt in Flanders. The expenses of royalty increased during Philip’s reign. In 1557 the Venetian ambassador estimated that Philip had fifteen hundred officials in his household service.4 By one estimate his household expenses rose 9.6 percent between 1560 and 1591. In addition, there were the costs of weddings, funerals, and journeys. Another major expense was the construction and upkeep of palaces and residence. In Madrid, which he fixed as his capital in 1561, there were three, and there were residences in Toledo, Aranjuez, Segovia, Valsaín (also called the Bosque de Segovia), and the Alhambra and Charles V’s palace in Granada. Most expensive of all was the monastery-palace of San Lorenzo at El Escorial, the construction of which began in 1563. It is difficult to ascertain the total cost of its construction, but in the three years 1573–76, at the height of the second financial crisis and third bankruptcy of Philip’s reign, it cost 158,000 ducados.5 The expenses associated with royal dwellings also included artwork, luxury items, devotional materials (such as books of hours and missals), and personal goods. As principal patron of the church, the king also contributed large sums to churches, monasteries, hospitals, and schools, both in Spain and in the New World. Royalty did not come cheaply. As the reasons for spending money increased, so too did the opportunities to borrow it. As Lovett has observed, limits on the growth of the royal debt effectively disappeared after 1550 as money was borrowed, not from the great personal fortunes of the bankers, but from the larger investing public.6 Income came from a variety of sources but principally from a widespread, complex system of taxation. The system was bewildering because a specific tax, or name of a tax, could vary from place to place. It was as chaotic as the rest of Castilian financial administration. Foremost among these taxes were the alcabalas, the sales taxes that were the single most important source of royal income.7 Theoretically, the alcabala was a 10 percent tax on all sales and transactions. In practice, the rate varied and fell to as low as 2 percent. These were collected in a variety of ways, including some that were the direct responsibility of the king. Cities and provinces, however, often entered into an agreement with the crown, called encabezamiento, whereby they agreed to pay a lump sum instead of the ongoing tax. The cities would negotiate a single payment and then

164

JUAN DE OVANDO

collect the tax themselves. A general encabezamiento was an agreement between the crown and the Cortes (the assemblage of representatives of the principal Castilian cities) on the amount of money to be paid and the term of payment.8 It is interesting to note that the Cortes was also involved in the encabezamiento of tercias. These were the king’s share of the tithes collected by the church, amounting to 2/9 of the total, and for most of the sixteenth century were, like the alcabalas, collected by means of encabezamiento.9 Another source of income was the servicios ordinario y extraordinario. These were personal taxes paid by pecheros, or ordinary taxpayers, and they varied throughout Spain. Pecheros were non-nobles or others not exempt by reason of privilege or custom. Non-noble exemptions included certain urban dwellers, secular and religious clergy, and doctors and licenciados from some universities. Originally, the servicios were supplementary and occasional to help the monarch out of financial difficulties, but the occasional nature of the taxes disappeared in the reign of Charles V. By the time Philip II took the throne these taxes were periodically granted or voted by the Cortes; during his reign, the Cortes never refused to vote them. While the concession of the servicio ordinario was usually voted immediately, that of the servicio extraordinario was often delayed in the hope of coercing concessions from the crown. The cruzada was a tax paid in lieu of military service against the Muslim infidels and was intended to finance wars against them.10 The individual who contributed received a certificate that included the granting of indulgences and other spiritual favors. Since the cruzada was collected by preaching, it tended to be sporadic and hence not a consistent or reliable source of income. Almojarifazgos were import-export taxes levied and paid at the ports of embarkation and arrival, but as the testimony of Ayala de Espinosa showed, collection was uneven and in many cases nonexistent. The crown also had income from the sale of town charters, common lands, and patents of nobility. Though the latter conferred exemption from taxes, there were other ways in which the hidalgos were compelled to give money. A more drastic measure, usually reserved for dire emergencies, was the impounding, or seizure, of silver shipments from the Indies on their arrival in Seville. This was not an outright confiscation but a forced conversion of the bullion to long-term, low-interest bonds. Philip II inherited not only financial problems but also the financial structure of his father’s reign. There was no budget in the modern sense of

THE ROAD TO BANKRUPTCY

165

the term. The ways in which borrowing and repayment were handled in practice also evolved during that century. Charles V depended for the most part on German bankers as a source of funds, particularly the house of Fugger in Augsburg. Early in the century, however, the Genoese began to dominate the Castilian financial scene and devised schemes of stunning complexity to separate the crown from its money.11 Early on, foreign bankers had lent to the monarchs out of their personal fortunes, which involved considerable risk.12 This situation changed after 1540, as other forms of investment, particularly loans from private citizens, began to develop. There was an increased dependence on asientos, or short-term loan contracts that had a specified date for repayment and were usually pledged against crown revenues, and on juros, long-term, interest-bearing bonds that constituted a form of annuity for the holders. By 1575, according to one modern historian, 40 percent of the total wealth of the Genoese aristocracy was committed to loans to the Spanish monarchy.13 In Spain the financial domination and speculations of the Genoese aroused deep resentment, especially in the Cortes. The asientos were negotiated at financial fairs (ferias), which were held at Piacenza, Antwerp, and other cities. During the reign of Charles V, the fair held twice a year at Medina del Campo became the primary venue.14 At the fairs the bankers, known as feriantes or mercaderes, borrowed money from Spanish subjects that they lent to the crown at usurious interest rates, which were established anew at each fair. In effect, the Genoese acted as middlemen between the crown and its investing subjects. Hence when to extend and finish the fairs, which in the sixteenth century generally lasted fifty days, became closely associated with the government’s credit. “Finishing the fair” meant that the government’s obligations to its creditors were satisfactorily settled—though this did not necessarily mean total liquidation of the debt. The advantage was that the debt was arranged and the crown’s credit rating maintained, often with silver from the Indies. The disadvantage was the outflow of cash from the treasury. Deferring the end of the fair avoided the strain on the treasury but by advertising the crown’s financial weakness hurt its credibility and added to interest costs. The asientos were a tempting device for meeting immediate financial needs, especially the floating debt (deuda suelta), though the cost was highinterest rates and ongoing indebtedness.15 Many contemporary observers considered the asientos the running sore of Castilian finances. They were

166

JUAN DE OVANDO

the principal business of the fairs and sustained the state in its increasing needs and daily pressures. Those who negotiated the asientos (asentistas) dominated and controlled the market and were the link between the state and private citizens. They were also cordially detested, both as foreigners and as moneylenders. The crown would sometimes guarantee payment with the anticipated silver shipments from the Indies but more often with liens on some source of income, including taxes and royal lands. For longer-range financing of the monarchy, the Genoese pioneered the concept of the juro.16 This was a contract between the crown and a lender, whether individual or corporate, whereby the lender, in return for advancing cash to the crown, received an annuity that was guaranteed by a lien on some source of royal income, such as a sales tax. A juro was perpetual (perpetuo) or redeemable (al quitar), either at some specified time or a lifetime (de por vida). In the latter case it could also be inherited (de heredad). The value of a juro depended on the value and stability of its source and the share of the crown income that was granted. As a result juros varied greatly in value. They were also negotiable and not surprisingly became a fertile field for speculation.17 For the crown they were a convenient way to raise money, but they also tended to drain investment capital from commercial and industrial needs. They constituted a long-term, funded debt (deuda consolidada). Because of the risks involved in lending money to the crown, creditors began to demand that some part of the collateral be transferred to them at the beginning of the loan. In the original form of this bond (juro de recaudación or caudación), all the collateral would be returned to the crown on repayment of the debt.18 After 1566 another form, the security bond (juro de resguardo), was developed to provide protection against royal default.19 “Resguardo” referred to additional collateral or assurance that the bond would be redeemed. Because of the unstable financial situation, royal creditors were given the right to sell part of their securities or to exercise a lien even before repayment. Eventually they obtained the right to sell all the securities. In case of repayment by the crown, an unlikely prospect, they were obliged to reimburse the crown for the full value of the collateral sold. The creditors, however, especially the Genoese, obtained the privilege of paying for these bonds by bartering bonds purchased on the open market rather than by paying cash. Since these market bonds were often devalued but were still accepted at face value by the government, the

THE ROAD TO BANKRUPTCY

167

opportunities for quick profit were manifold. Another safeguard against loss allowed the bankers who accepted devalued bonds from the government to repay their own creditors with the real rather than face value of the bonds, thus enabling them to pass on to their creditors any loss they might suffer from the crown.20 Periodically, it became clear that the crown could not meet even the interest on its debts. This led to the suspension of payments, the equivalent of bankruptcy. This was followed by a period of negotiation or settlement, during which the crown’s debts were renegotiated. The suspended payments were changed to long-term, low-interest juros on which it was tacitly understood that the principal would never be paid. For the creditor these formed a guaranteed annuity. The juros were often based on anticipated revenues (anticipos), which were thus encumbered (situados) well in advance. This met the immediate financial needs of the crown but also tied down future income. By the latter years of Philip II’s reign there were few taxes or royal rights that were not encumbered in some way. Philip II also routinely permitted the export of bullion, a relatively uncommon occurrence in previous reigns. The export of bullion made it easier to borrow money but also guaranteed that Spain would become a way station for the wealth of the Indies. An additional source of income was the sale of town charters.21 Another was the sale of ecclesiastical jurisdictions and devotional books, the collection and redonation of tithes, and subsidios. The latter, also known as décima and cuarta, were direct 10 percent contributions levied on ecclesiastical income and which, by papal concession, the kings of Spain were entitled to collect.22 Like the cruzada, these were intended to finance wars against the infidels. Because the subsidios were a violation of the traditional immunity from personal taxes enjoyed by the clergy, the practice was strongly resented. In 1555 Pope Paul IV revoked both the cruzada and the subsidio at the request of the clergy of Spain, which claimed it was being bled by the crown’s exactions.23 This provoked a crisis in the crown’s relations with the papacy, one that was aggravated by the war that broke out between the two in September 1556. The concessions were restored by Pius IV in 1561, but they were not a consistent source of revenue. The subsidios were sporadic, and the cruzada depended on preaching and was granted only for three-year periods, at least until 1566. The papacy of the Catholic Reformation, perhaps remembering how

168

JUAN DE OVANDO

earlier financial exactions had helped to bring about the Lutheran revolt, was hostile to the cruzada and sought to abolish it. In 1567 Pius V granted the excusado —a subvention from the ecclesiastical persons and institutions from income that was not strictly ecclesiastical, such as seigniorial dues— as a compensation for the loss of the cruzada.24 It had originated about 1566 in an attempt to seek monetary contributions from the clergy without seeking papal approval.

THE COUNCIL OF FINANCE The Council of Finance had been founded in 1523 to deal with data and decision making in royal finances. In the period from 1554 to 1568 a number of changes were made in the financial administration of the government, most of them in the reign of Philip II. The purpose was to centralize the financial authority of Castile and make it more manageable. The Council was supposedly given a clearer structure and jurisdiction, but in fact neither was clear either to contemporaries or modern researchers. The Council of Finance remained what Lovett has called, with little exaggeration, “a model of chaos.”25 In 1575 Ovando described the organization and functioning of the Council to Philip II.26 There were three divisions. The first was the contaduría mayor, or principal accounting office, which was responsible for the overall administration and care of the treasury, especially the collection and expenditure of royal revenues. In Ovando’s mind this branch constituted the true Council of Finance. The second division was the law court (sala de letrados), which heard and judged the inevitable lawsuits that involved the hacienda. The third was the actual bookkeeping operation (contaduría mayor de cuentas), which kept and closed the various accounts. It had two accountants and two assistants. In practice the situation was not nearly so clear. Ovando was ambiguous as to whether the contaduría mayor constituted the Council of Finance or whether a separate council had been established in competition with it. In either case the councillors came from outside the hacienda itself. The accountants were left with little to do and as a result involved themselves in hearing the lawsuits brought before the sala de letrados. The latter, wrote Ovando, had enough letrados to constitute a full law court but had no head, so that it was disorganized and in disarray. The contaduría mayor

THE ROAD TO BANKRUPTCY

169

de cuentas was totally independent. Its accountants restricted themselves to bookkeeping functions and made no effort to ascertain the harm caused by maladministration or the asientos. After the reforms of the early years of Philip II’s reign, the three divisions were decentralized (“dismembered” was the expression Ovando used) but were not coordinated in any way. The precise structure and functioning of the Council of Finance was unclear in Ovando’s day and remains so today. As Lovett aptly observed, “Ovando himself—a bad omen—was never very clear as to the exact nature of the tripartite arrangement.”27 The personnel of the Council of Finance consisted of a president, three senior councillors, and two senior auditors.28 Councillors sometimes came from other agencies, such as the Council of Castile, and they often lacked even rudimentary knowledge of finance. Throughout his association with the financial branch of government, Ovando bombarded the king with memoranda and memorials on the shortcomings of the council and his recommendations for improvement. In one such document, he wrote, “The government and administration of the hacienda is divided into so many tribunals, and in all of them there is so much confusion and so little, or no, implementation of the work of each office that I believe that there is no way of improving it except to form and reform them all and make them one.”29 It was Ovando’s favorite theme, to be repeated at later dates, that the only way to have an effective financial administration was to have a single, powerful authority in charge of a centralized and rational operation. He even suggested that there should be a school for officials of the hacienda. The contaduría should inspect and examine all aspects of the hacienda at least every year, perhaps every month. Although the principal function of the contaduría mayor de cuentas was to take the accounts, it did not do a tenth of them and when it did, it was always at the wrong time: “All three of these tribunals should be in one structure and one wheel [Ovando’s favorite metaphor for the smooth running of the hacienda]; each one goes its own way and it seems that the ministries of the hacienda are being furtively dismembered while it is still living. I will ask Your Majesty to be pleased to adjust and unite this ministry.”30 He concluded by pointing out another difficulty: the squabbles over precedence, especially when advisers from other councils attended meetings.31

170

JUAN DE OVANDO

The Burden of Factionalism The Council of Finance was beset by a sorry history of factionalism, dating to the final years of Charles V’s reign. Two groups of bureaucrats jockeyed for dominance, led by the royal secretary Cobos and the prince of Eboli.32 The group around Eboli chose the Council as its first target. In 1556 Francisco de Eraso was made secretary, and Gutierre López de Padilla became effectively the president of the Council, replacing Vázquez de Molina. The takeover was completed in 1557.33 The year 1565, however, marked the beginning of decline for the Eboli party. The problems began in the Council of Finance, the arena of their first major victory. The hoped for improvement in finances did not take place; instead, there was a bankruptcy in 1563. Then came the fall of Eraso, who was found guilty of corruption in early 1566. For the sake of others, including the king, some part of Eraso’s reputation had to be salvaged, and so he was allowed to keep some offices, including membership in the Council of the Indies.34 However, he was fined and barred from the Council of Finance for a year; he did not regain his former influence.35 The fall of Eraso coincided with the rise of Cardinal Espinosa, to whom Philip II turned in an attempt to stave off the impending financial crisis. The cardinal quickly began to stack the Council with his own men: Ovando, Francisco Hernández de Liévana, Melchor de Herrera (the marqués de Auñón), Juan de Escobedo (a protégé of Eboli and secretary to Don Juan of Austria, the king’s illegitimate half brother), Francisco de Garnica (another client of Eboli who switched to the winning side), and Francisco Gutiérrez de Cuéllar (nephew of Archbishop Valdés).36 Mateo Vázquez de Leca also began to play a role in the Council, principally as the go-between with the king. Garnica, who came from a banking family, had the reputation of being the only man on the Council who actually understood finances, but he was widely suspected of lining his own pockets with crown funds. The council’s work was hampered by enmities among the members and by squabbles over precedence. In particular, Ovando disliked Herrera and had a difficult time with Escobedo, who was short-tempered and intimidating. In 1575 Ovando wrote to Vázquez de Leca, “They say that Escobedo is coming and if it is for money, I tremble because he treats us worse than Indians.”37 Philip II’s opinion was no higher. He complained to Vázquez de Leca, “I am so fed up and tired [of his pestering] that I could not be more

THE ROAD TO BANKRUPTCY

171

so.”38 Cabrera de Córdoba, Philip II’s biographer, said of Escobedo that he was “ambitious and free in asking for and giving advice on what did not concern him, interfering, presumptuous, and excessively self-satisfied.”39

Earlier Crises The first financial crisis came early in Philip’s reign. In 1557, a year after Philip assumed the throne and while he was in the Netherlands, the crown was forced to declare bankruptcy.40 This involved the suspension of interest payments and a long period of negotiation with creditors that led to a forced conversion of its short-term debt into long-term, low-interest juros. The government resorted to a number of expedients to increase revenue: sale of offices, subsidios from the clergy, sales of privileges to individuals and towns, and seizure of bullion that arrived in Seville from the crown’s New World possessions. Between 1555 and 1559 bullion seizure was resorted to more frequently than at any other time.41 On 8 September 1559, after a prolonged stay in northern Europe, Philip II landed in Spain, having returned at the urging of the Council of State in order to face the financial crisis. The suspension of 1557 does not seem to have been effective. On 14 November 1560 the suspension of payments was ordered again as a preliminary to the forcible conversion of royal debts to juros with a fixed rate of interest of 5 percent.42 There is disagreement as to whether the two decrees constituted two separate bankruptcies or were two stages of only one.43 The fifteen years following the resolution of this first crisis saw the crown’s need for money increase dramatically. Sostenimiento, that is, the maintenance of the armed forces and the civil service, was a major source of spending. The multitudinous royal grants and favors to individuals further drained the treasury. Most of the expense, however, resulted from military needs. Spain joined the Holy League, organized by Pope Pius V (1566–72) to thwart Turkish expansion in the eastern Mediterranean. This culminated in the battle of Lepanto (7 October 1571), an important but ultimately temporary defeat for the Turks. Philip continued to pour money into defensive, and sometimes offensive, measures against the Turks until the truce of 1577–78.44 The revolt in the Netherlands, beginning about 1563 was the most serious drain on the royal finances. This, more than any other single factor, contributed to a new financial crisis.

172

JUAN DE OVANDO

From 1571 to 1574 Ovando played an important if informal role in the Council of Finance.45 After Espinosa’s death he became the single most influential figure in financial deliberations and in 1574 was named president of the council, the only man in that century to be simultaneously president of the Council of Finance and the Council of the Indies.46 The former was not a position he aspired to. His ambition at that time—or at least so he claimed—was to be Inquisitor General and president of the Council of the Indies.47 His appointment was part of a three-pronged royal approach to the financial crisis. The other two were the Junta of Presidents and the Cortes of Castile.

Reorganizing the Council of Finance Even before his appointment as president of the Council of Finance, Ovando boasted to the king, he had made a point of studying everything connected with the royal hacienda.48 After his appointment he quickly sought to familiarize himself with all laws and royal decrees that dealt with the hacienda, not only in Spain, but also in Naples, Sicily, and Milan. He asked all the officials of the hacienda and the contadurías to give him descriptions of their jobs. He made summaries of all the most important accounts for his personal use, so that no lower functionary could outdistance him in work or breadth of knowledge. He alphabetized the libro de partidas (book of entries) so that he would know how to locate each and every entry, “just like any Genoese in his own accounts.” He talked Luis Torregrosa into coming to Madrid and serving as an unpaid accountant. Torregrosa was from Valencia, had been born poor, made a fortune in Seville, and become a city councillor, and he was one of the best accountants in the realm.49 Ovando’s first impression was that in theory there was sufficient income to meet the crown’s needs but that “it was all diminished, consigned, and pledged.”50 The personnel of the Council were “busy and distracted in different offices with the result that almost no one was master of what was to be done in the administration of the hacienda.”51 Ovando formulated a threefold response to the problem. The first would be to buy time by taking care of immediate payment needs. Then the tribunal would be put in order, and a general remedy would be devised for the council and for each of its members.

THE ROAD TO BANKRUPTCY

173

One of Ovando’s longest memorials on the Council of Finance came on 16 January 1574 in response to a letter from Vázquez de Leca, which proposed a number of questions about the council and which indicated that the king was ready to appoint Ovando as its president. Ovando began by remarking that it was the most difficult area of government, one whose officials led an unquiet life and suffered exhaustion and burnout. Ovando was reluctant to become involved in it because of his lack of qualifications and because his strength was in decline. He would accept the position only out of devotion to the king since he “consider[ed] it a means to his salvation.”52 The first question asked by Philip II was whether the president of the council should also conduct a visita of it. Ovando saw little use in this unless the president had the authority to control all branches of the hacienda and enforce his will on it. With his typical obsession with coherent organization, he outlined a plan whereby a visitador could exercise control over the entire operation. Ovando also used the second question—how the tribunals should be organized for the better operation of the hacienda—to press for a strong centralized authority. The only remedy, Ovando insisted, was that all the departments should have one president who could compel them to work in unison. Three of these should be retained: one to deal with the administration of the hacienda to which the councillors would belong; the second to hear and resolve lawsuits; and the third, the contaduría de cuentas, to deal with the closing of accounts, with its accountants subject to the president. The president would preside over all three departments and coordinate their work, though he would not vote in the judgment of lawsuits. Another problem was the lack of any laws or guidelines directing the operations of the council. These, Ovando wrote, should be drawn up and modeled along the lines of the Council of Naples (that is, the Council of Italy). Ovando recommended that for the contaduría de cuentas there should be no more than four members, and he favored retaining the individuals who were then serving. For the sala of letrados, he favored retaining the individuals already serving and suggested some reforms of procedure. He suggested the same for the Council of Finance proper but added that the councillors were so busy that none of them was really involved in the council’s work. The most important reform would be one that would allow them to attend all meetings without fail. It was also essential that Francisco de Garnica should remain on the council “because he is very intelligent

174

JUAN DE OVANDO

and capable, and he is very well informed and in command of matters and without him they cannot be resolved at the present time. It is his proper office, and he is not occupied in it.”53 Ovando passed a very different judgment on Melchor de Herrera, the marqués de Auñón. He regarded Auñón as dangerous and problematic, particularly because of his activities as a crown creditor.54 Ovando considered him guilty of conflict of interest and profiteering at crown expense but did not want to bar him from the council’s meetings, at least not until a visita should show otherwise. Ovando also nominated a number of other persons for the council, among them, Fernández de Espinosa “because he possesses great intelligence.”55 Despite what he had said previously, Ovando agreed that members of the Council of Castile should continue to attend meetings of the Council of Finance. With regard to recruiting new officials, Ovando advocated a meritocracy. They should be noble young men, of good penmanship and ability, who, if they proved themselves, should be advanced through the bureaucracy. Finally, Ovando broached the delicate problem of his being president of both the Council of the Indies and Finance, which he thought could be “overcome with work and health.”56 He had, he wrote, so organized the Council of the Indies that there was rarely need for more than one meeting a day. Business was dispatched quickly and efficiently. In addition, the two councils met in such close proximity that it was easy to go from one to the other. Ovando may have put too much faith in reorganization as the key to resolving the crisis of the royal finances. He drew up a set of recommendations that he sent to Vázquez de Leca on 2 April 1574, but his suggestions for reorganizing the tribunal were not put into effect. On 14 April 1575 Ovando urged Vázquez de Leca to push the king into seeing that the organization of the council and its tribunals was put in order.57 Again, his efforts seem to have been in vain.

The Junta of Presidents In 1573, with a new financial crisis looming, Philip II established an informal committee known as the Junta of Presidents, so called because its membership included the presidents of some of the major councils. Its original members were Diego de Covarrubias y Leyva (president of the Council of Castile after 1574), Ovando (president of the Council of the

THE ROAD TO BANKRUPTCY

175

Indies and from 1574 of the Council of Finance), Antonio de Padilla (president of the Council of Military Orders), Doctor Martín de Velasco (assistant to Cardinal Espinosa), licenciado Juan Díaz de Fuenmayor, Doctor Francisco Hernández (from the Council and Cámara of Castile), Francisco de Garnica (from the Council of Finance), and Mateo Vázquez de Leca, the king’s private secretary who also acted as liaison and took minutes.58 The membership seems to have been fluid, with different individuals attending meetings at different times. The junta began meeting on 1 June 1573.59 According to secret instructions from the king, it was to come up with means of obtaining money to meet immediate expenses and to free the crown’s income from its various encumbrances, that is, desempeño.60 In their first four meetings the members of the junta decided to begin with the desempeño, to undertake negotiations with the Cortes, and also to deal with specific extraordinary taxes (arbitrios). At the same time that the Council of Finance and the Junta of Presidents were considering these matters, Philip II was using Ovando as his private adviser.61 From June 1573 through at least 1574 Philip II was receiving financial advice from at least three different sources. The junta’s overall contribution to resolving the financial crisis does not seem to have been substantial. The minutes for 1573–74 provide little information.62 Discussions, even on small points, seemed interminable. One difficulty was that it was also discussing and editing Ovando’s proposed Libro de gobernación espiritual. Another was the endless squabbles over precedence that bedeviled all Spanish councils and juntas of the time, particularly when persons other than the members of the junta participated in its meetings.63 The junta was divided into factions. One was led by Juan Fernández de Espinosa, whose name appeared as one of the crown’s principal creditors in the bankruptcy of 1575.64 The other was led by Garnica and Escobedo. The latter’s murder in March 1578, engineered by Antonio Pérez, would become a public scandal and lead to Pérez’s fall. Both Garnica and Fernández de Espinosa were royal creditors and thus were involved in a conflict of interest.65 This was a situation about which Ovando complained bitterly. Garnica had been associated with Ruy Gómez, prince of Eboli, and with Francisco de Eraso, the king’s former private secretary. This group had been eclipsed by the rise of Espinosa. Pérez and Vázquez de Leca were fierce rivals.

176

JUAN DE OVANDO

President of the Council of Finance Although the exact date of Ovando’s appointment as president of the Council of Finance is uncertain, it was probably in January or February 1574. Once appointed he set to work with his wonted energy. Vázquez de Leca congratulated him on the way things were going, a compliment that may have been premature.66 Ovando agreed with him, however, and reported that the councillors “affirm that more is done in one day than was previously done in weeks.”67 A little later he boasted that more shipments of money had been sent in one week than in the previous two months.68 The new president faced two immediate needs, provisioning the army in Flanders and ending the financial fair at Medina del Campo. He had to deal with the first at a time when he was ill with what he called catarro. It was also at this time that royal policy in the Netherlands was in flux. The duke of Alba was losing favor with the king, and the cost of the war almost doubled in 1573–74. The other challenge, closing the fair at Medina del Campo, required a large sum of money and to many seemed impossible. Both he and Fernández de Espinosa insisted that the fair should not be closed unless the entire hacienda would be put in order by the amount to be spent. This turned out to be impossible, so it was closed for a sum negotiated by Ovando, 2,297,000 ducados. Lovett asserts that Ovando believed that the crown could continue its rate of expenditure and also amortize the debt.69 Undoubtedly, Ovando also believed that a rationalization of the committee, council, and financial structure would resolve the underlying problem. As Lovett observes the options open to Ovando and the junta were limited by the heavy encumbrances on the crown’s revenues and the needs of empire, especially in the Low Countries.70 On Easter Sunday, 11 April 1574, Ovando sent a long and formal report to the king on the status of finances.71 It was written in large print and spelled everything out in elementary detail, as for someone totally ignorant of the subject. To understand the royal finances, he began, it was necessary to consider four things: (1) “what it is that we have”; (2) “what it is that we owe”; (3) “what is left to us, what is lacking, and what we need”; (4) “where and how we will provide it, putting it into execution.”72 What did the crown have? Looking over the various sources of revenue—the encabezamiento of the alcabala, tax farming, almojarifazgos—

THE ROAD TO BANKRUPTCY

177

he estimated income at 985,250,000 maravedís. What was owed in various forms of debt, including money owed in Flanders, came to 27,715,601,935 maravedís. The war in Flanders was costing between 600,000 and 700,000 a month. Thousands more were supporting Spain’s military commitments abroad.73 It was a simple case of expenses outpacing income. The conclusion was simple and brutal: “[W]e owe much more than we have in income and we lack everything that we need.”74 What was needed, Ovando concluded, totaled 1,847,000,000 maravedís. What was left in the treasury was 168,368,040 maravedís. Where would the money come from? He laid out his master plan to resolve the financial crisis: increase income and suspend payments on the running debt.75 The additional income would come from two sources: an increase in the encabezamiento of alcabalas in Castile and León, the salt tax, and servicio, and the seizure of the bullion on the next flota from New Spain. The encabezamiento, he believed, would yield two million ducados. Since he was at that time involved in delicate negotiations with the Cortes, he advised that the seizure of the bullion be carried out with the greatest discretion, even duplicity. Disinformation should be spread about the crown’s intentions, and officials in Seville should be advised “to proceed very cautiously in this matter.”76 Ovando believed that the crown would thus obtain more than one million ducados in cash and more than two million in the consignments that would be freed of encumbrance and which the mercaderes were still collecting. The royal income would continue to increase “to the extent that Your Majesty could rule the world as he would want and so time runs to Your Majesty’s harm and everything is ruined.”77 The suspension of interest payments, called the “decree,” was intended to involve the restructuring of both the floating and the funding debts. Payment on the floating debt would be suspended, and interest would be lowered on the consolidated debt by reducing the interest rates on the juros.78 Ovando had suggested a major step to rescue crown finances that, had it been carried out, might have yielded positive results. His plan, however, seems to have met opposition in the Junta of Presidents. Eventually the members agreed to a decree of suspension only after the king intervened. Even then, though they did not block the decree, they hindered its implementation, especially by invoking various fearful consequences, “which is the artifice that is used to obstruct everything good.”79 Their tactics worked,

178

JUAN DE OVANDO

and although the decree was accepted in August 1574 Ovando’s plan was not implemented. The following year he lamented to Philip II that if the suspension had been timed with the bullion seizure the king’s financial problems would have been resolved. In an especially frank letter to the king in March 1575, he complained, “We could have remedied the situation by adopting any of the following schemes. We could have reformed the central tribunal of the exchequer; or we could have dealt with my scheme for raising a large sum to free crown rents . . . ; or we could have resorted to ‘the decree.’ . . . Any of these measures would have sufficed to remedy the situation.”80 Ovando returned to this plan in 1575, and again it was hindered by poor implementation. During this time, he became increasingly disillusioned with the junta. In his Easter Sunday report he complained to the king about the state of the treasury and about how poorly the junta had been functioning. In a marginal note he commented bitterly, “[F]ourteen or fifteen months of juntas are enough. They have not done three hours work and there is no reason to believe that it will not be the same in the future.”81

Negotiations with the Cortes Since it was Castile that carried most of the tax burden of empire, the crown sought another way out of its financial difficulties by undertaking negotiations with the Cortes of Castile.82 This body, also called the Reino, or Kingdom, was to play a crucial role in the financial negotiations during the next two years. In the sixteenth century it comprised eighteen cities: Avila, Burgos, Córdoba, Cuenca, Granada, Guadalajara, Jaén, León, Madrid, Murcia, Salamanca, Segovia, Seville, Soria, Toledo, Toro, Valladolid, and Zamora.83 The cities were represented by procuradores, chosen according to the traditions and practices of the individual cities. There was also a standing commission (diputación) of two procuradores that watched over the Cortes’s interests between meetings. The king, however, named the president of the Cortes, who acted as the crown’s agent and communicated his wishes to the assembly. The president was present for major votes but did not vote. In addition to some legislative functions, the Cortes had the right to approve or reject certain taxes. Like similar bodies in England and France, the Cortes was usually called only when the monarch needed money, and it would use those occasions to

THE ROAD TO BANKRUPTCY

179

try to protect or enhance its own power. It did not meet on a regular basis in the sixteenth century, and the length of its meetings varied. It was called fifteen times in the reign of Charles V and twelve times in the reign of Philip II. Of those twelve meetings, three lasted more than two years each.84 Prolongation of the meetings, with the attendant expenses, was a royal tactic for pressuring the Cortes into voting the desired money. The crown also attempted to influence the procuradores directly, particularly by granting them various favors and rewards at the conclusion of sessions. The Cortes had little influence on the major decisions of the crown, which was often able to bypass it, and so its power was based more on obstruction and delay. However, it voted two of the most important sources of royal income, the servicios and the encabezamiento of the alcabalas.85 There is a disagreement over the vitality of the Cortes and the extent of its powers in the sixteenth century.86 However, the cities were still an important part of the Spanish corporate state and a force to be respected. Although consultation with the Cortes was regarded as essential in levying new taxes, the crown often was able to evade it. In the early 1560s the king introduced new taxes and increased others on his own initiative, including custom duties and a royal monopoly on production and sale of salt. Strictly speaking, these did not require the consent of the Cortes.87 In both 1566 and 1570 the Cortes complained bitterly about the impounding of silver shipments from the Indies and the failure to pay interest on the juros, saying that such moves were destroying commerce.88 The Cortes of 1566 seems to have been the first to attempt to withhold servicios in order to force repeal of the taxes. The Cortes of 1569 complained about the fact that the crown had imposed new taxes and increased others without its consent. In this, as in similar cases, Philip II invoked necessity. The Cortes of 1573–75 had two sessions. The first met from April to December 1573, when it was suspended. It reopened in May of the following year and was formally closed in September 1575. A great deal of discontent surfaced during this time, and the Cortes used the occasion to try to regain some of its former powers. This was centered not just on the crown’s infringements on the Reino’s prerogatives but also on its general fiscal policy, especially the asientos. During the first year, it dealt with the crown’s plan to have the cities bring about the desempeño, primarily through an increase of the encabezamiento of the alcabala. In return it would give the cities the administration of the tax for thirty years. This would give

180

JUAN DE OVANDO

the cities control over the collection, but at the same time it deprived the crown of control over its most important source of income.89 Among the conditions that the Reino sought were perpetuity of the encomiendas and a prohibition against exporting gold and silver. In the second session the crown abruptly dropped the desempeño in favor of a flat increase in the value of the sales taxes.90 The Cortes opened in Madrid on 26 April 1573 under the presidency of Diego de Covarrubias y Leyva, bishop of Segovia, president of the Council of Castile, and an outstanding jurist of his age.91 Two days later the Cortes met with the king at San Lorenzo and heard his opening speech, called the proposición, read by a secretary.92 The king described the seriousness of the situation, which threatened to wipe out the entire hacienda. The crown presented no plan to the Cortes, leaving it to that body to find some way out of the financial mess. The response came from the city of Burgos, which, after fulsome praise for the king and his efforts on behalf of Spain and Christendom, flatly stated that the cities did not have the money to help. The first item of business was the voting of the servicios, which were often used as a means of exacting concessions from the crown. The Cortes voted in favor of the servicio but only after having listed conditions for the grant—that the amount should be reduced in relation to the number of patents of nobility that the crown had sold (these reduced the number of taxpayers); that the crown not exceed the amount allotted; and that henceforth the spending of the servicio be in consultation with the diputación.93 Although the king and Covarrubias said only that the king would consider the proposals, the crown later accepted them.94 On 10 June the procuradores voted the servicio extraordinario without any conditions.95 Twelve days later, however, they appointed a watchdog committee to ensure that no more of this money was handed over than had been voted.96 In August the crown submitted a complex plan for the desempeño that would have given the cities the administration of the encabezamiento of the alcabalas and tercias for a period of thirty years. It would also have extended the alcabala to additional items and would have granted the Cortes an encabezamiento on the salt tax. It was a form of tax farming with the cities as the farmers, and would have been profitable for the cities. Ovando opposed this plan as impractical and was eventually able to swing royal thinking against it.97 In the meantime negotiations over the plan would occupy the Cortes for the rest of this session.

THE ROAD TO BANKRUPTCY

181

In September the Cortes formulated a series of demands that strongly reflected the attitudes and needs of the cities. The Cortes wanted to turn back the clock, seeking the suppression of all taxes that the king had established without its consent. It wanted the encabezamiento of the alcabala and tercias to be made perpetual. It also asked that the price of salt be lowered and that some guarantee be given that it would not continually rise. In an even more drastic request, it sought a contract that would have effectively stopped any further royal indebtedness and restricted some common sources of income, such as juros or the sale of lands or jurisdictions or enclosures of common lands or exemptions from jurisdiction. The Reino also asked for the right of cities to buy back exemptions from their jurisdiction that had been sold to neighboring towns and villages.98 It asked that the king no longer permit the export of bullion except for his own immediate needs, and it drew up a list of taxes that it wanted to have repealed or lessened, together with a petition that the king promise not to reimpose them.99 Additional requests included a lowering of certain taxes, such as that on wool, perpetuity of the encomiendas in the Indies, and that the king not encumber or mortgage any of the income sources that would be freed by the desempeño. The responses given by Covarrubias and his assistants on behalf of the king were varied and often ambiguous.100 The encabezamiento of the alcabala and the tercias were granted for thirty years, with any increase in the taxes going toward the desempeño.101 The Reino was given the encabezamiento of salt for a period of thirty years but under the same condition that any increase would go toward the desempeño. As for the encomiendas, the king declared that this matter had not yet been decided. Regarding the creation of new offices, the king promised to keep this in mind but said that a final decision would have to wait for the completion of the desempeño. In the same way he promised that there would be greater supervision and control of the export of bullion. Finally, he declared that any doubts about this matter would be adjudicated by members of his council, whom he would appoint. On 30 October the Cortes returned these responses to the crown for reconsideration, on the grounds that they did not correspond to what had been requested.102 The king made some additional concessions, most of them relatively minor, such as extending the encabezamientos of alcabalas and salt to forty years. He still refused to discuss the encomienda in the

182

JUAN DE OVANDO

Indies. The Cortes now began to emphasize that it was not a decision-making body, that is, that the final decision would be made by the cities themselves, not their representatives. When Covarrubias indicated to the procuradores that this was the final royal response, the Reino voted to take the matter to the cities for their verification.103 The king suspended the Cortes on 13 December 1573.104 The suspension was extended three more times, and it was not until 31 May 1574 that the procuradores again presented their credentials.105 The second session lasted until September 1574. Much had changed. The Cortes now became more aggressive and demanding, and the discussions of 1574 were intense. The Cortes sought to exploit the worsening crisis. The two sides were at an impasse, with each one presenting endless proposals and counterproposals. On 15 June 1574 the Cortes reviewed the instructions that the procuradores had received from their cities.106 Their reaction was that the crown had not answered the request as it had been given. Some cities agreed to the desempeño but added conditions. Others wanted more mercedes than the crown had originally offered. Some cities wanted the encabezamiento for longer than forty years and voted to ask the king for a perpetual encabezamiento or, if that was not feasible, for as long as possible.107 On 17 July two delegates of the Cortes met with Covarrubias and told him that nothing could be accomplished until the floating debt and the asientos were brought under control. The cities were willing to take on the desempeño of the funded debt but only after steps had been taken to remedy the floating debt.108 They also wanted to stop the speculation in juros, suggesting that if speculators had already sold them at a profit, the king’s debt to them should be discounted by the amount of the profit.109 The delegates also stated that the floating debt would never be remedied as long as the war in Flanders contained to drain money from the royal treasury. They felt obliged to make the extraordinary proposal that the king seek to make peace with the rebels.110 In the meantime, the Reino asked the king to instruct the Councils of Castile and War and the generals in the field to hold down costs as much as possible. On 22 September 1574 the Cortes was abruptly notified that the crown had dropped the plan for desempeño and had a new plan that called for an increase in the encabezamiento of the alcabala.111 The reason given for this was the disparity of the responses from the cities, which made any agreement

THE ROAD TO BANKRUPTCY

183

on the desempeño impossible. In essence this amounted to a sudden and unexpected tax increase. The king wanted two and a half million ducados, a sum beyond Castile’s capacity to produce. Through late 1574 the Junta of Presidents negotiated with the Cortes, which resisted the inflated figure presented by the king. This required all the diplomatic skill the members had. Ovando began calling on old friends to help with the lobbying effort.112 The Cortes wanted to continue with the discussion of the desempeño. The king remained adamant.113 On 16 November 1574 the Cortes gave provisional consent while trying to reduce the sum to two million ducados. In January 1575 Ovando intensified his campaign with the Cortes. When Salamanca delayed in responding, Ovando suggested writing to some of the city council members whom he had known since his student days. Similarly, when the city council of Granada proved recalcitrant, he wrote to the president, oidores, corregidor, and all his friends there, “I am writing to the sons of friends that I had there, renewing with them the friendship that I had with their fathers and asking them very earnestly that they not delay any more in doing what His Majesty orders.”114 Finally, on 22 February 1575, the Cortes reluctantly voted the amount asked by the king.115 Philip II’s sum indeed proved too high and had to be readjusted in 1577.116 The two years of negotiations showed that the differences between the crown and the Cortes were profound. In the first period the crown was willing to yield the administration of its most important sources of income in return for the cities’ redeeming its income and taking over the royal debts. In the second period the king wanted a flat increase but one that was spread over a wider tax base and had permanence. The intense negotiations with the Cortes show that this body still had power and was aggressive in using it. A subtext was its antagonism to foreigners, especially the Genoese. Salamanca told its procuradores that it would not accept the desempeño unless it was agreed beforehand to expel from the kingdom within the space of three or four years the foreigners who did business in it, or at least that they be prevented from conducting business as usual. Segovia asked that the king not deal with the Genoese or other foreigners.117 It sought a drastic cutback in asientos and juros, if not their complete abolition, or at least a lowering of interest rates. In many ways they sought to restructure the whole hacienda. The crown, in contrast, opted for more short-term solutions. Most of all, it wanted to find new

184

JUAN DE OVANDO

sources of income, in part by widening the tax base and assuring collection. Its proposals left the old system intact, especially the encabezamientos, and did little or nothing to improve it. As one historian observed, the crown’s immediate needs took precedence over a general overhaul of royal finances.118

The Frustrations of the Junta The first year of deliberations of the Junta of Presidents and the Cortes produced nothing, and Ovando became increasingly critical. In a letter of 16 January 1574 he wrote that the junta’s meetings were of value but that too much time was lost. He suggested reducing the number of meetings and having the king attend at least one meeting a week. No important decision, he said, could be taken without the king hearing the discussions and arguments.119 It was a bold suggestion that went against established practice. Royal attendance at meetings did not conform to Philip II’s mode of government. In July 1574 Garnica brought before the junta the question of juros that investors, or speculators, had purchased from the Genoese at depreciated prices but that were redeemable at face value. He suggested lowering the rates on the bonds so that the speculators would not make a profit. Ovando agreed and believed that such a reduction could save the crown some 800,000 ducados. The other members attacked the proposal violently, and it did not come up for a vote. The reason, of course, was that some of the councillors were among those who had purchased the depreciated bonds. Ovando was incensed. “Interested judges should not be trusted,” he wrote, and suggested that the king promulgate a general law prohibiting councillors or ministers from buying such things.120 Ovando also took the opportunity to voice his complaints about the junta: “Nothing has been done that would have been worth three hours in a council. And because there is need and haste, yesterday they were complaining because two [meetings] were spent on the subject and there was no way of avoiding another two today and so we who have spent so many hours studying the remedy will go to the next world before we shed any light on it.”121 A year later he complained that the outsiders brought to the junta were no more competent than the members of the council: “Because there has been no trust in me or all the ministers of the Hacienda, all these

THE ROAD TO BANKRUPTCY

185

matters have been carried to the Junta. . . . But of the three or four who joined it, except for those who are or have been ministers of the Hacienda, there was little reason to have confidence in their experience, which they lacked.”122 In 1574 Ovando complained that “fourteen, fifteen months of meetings, in which they have not done three hours work, are sufficient to believe that the future will be the same.”123 In March 1575 Vázquez de Leca complained to the king that although the members were well intentioned, “for most of the these days almost all their time has been wasted in doing nothing and instead of facilitating the business on which, after God, everything depends, they bring forward specters and terrible difficulties.”124 When it was suggested to Ovando that one of the accountants of the Council of Finance be brought to the meetings to help with the encabezamiento, he vetoed the proposal on that grounds that it would mean another negative voice.125 That work on the Council of Finance had its lighter moments is evident from an incident that occurred on 30 April 1575. Juan de Cuadros, who had the reputation for being a jokester, read a report in the council that sounded quite serious but was soon recognized as a parody. While Ovando apparently enjoyed the jest, he wrote that he read the report very carefully before concluding that it was not meant to be taken seriously.126 The line between parody and reality was perilously thin. Ovando vented some of his frustrations to Vázquez de Leca in a letter of 20 May 1575.127 He was upset by a letter from the king to his secretary in which he urged Ovando to greater haste in supplying money to various royal needs. Ovando replied that he did not need any urging, since he thought about nothing else day and night. That, he added irritably, was more than the other ministers did or were capable of doing. “If I were given ministers with whom I could work, eventually it could happen that we would get around to dealing with what now has no remedy, and certainly I feel that God will go on forsaking it because of such an enormous sin as is given license and authorizes this devilish profit and usury.”128 In particular, at every available minute, he (Ovando) was taking care of the payments for Italy, Oran, the galleys, and the armada of the west coast that left every hour. He carried a manual with him that he studied continually. If the rest of the year was like this, “this is sufficient death knell to wipe out this crown.” Vázquez de Leca’s comment was, “[W]hen I consider . . . what happens in this Council, I have to go hide myself and weep.”129

186

JUAN DE OVANDO

Others noted a change in the council president. Fernández de Espinosa told Vázquez de Leca that he found Ovando “changeable and diminished and like a man full of fear.”130 Though the documentation is not clear, it seems that Ovando may have moved to or near the Escorial and hence was surrounded by the factionalism and backbiting of the court. Vázquez de Leca, for one, was eager to have him move away.131 In 1575 Ovando found himself facing two of the same challenges that he had the previous year, closing the fair at Medina del Campo and coordinating a seizure of bullion at Seville with a declaration of bankruptcy. In February the king issued a cédula closing the fair but suspended it after the city protested. Ovando wrote four letters to the king between 18 and 25 May. If the fair was closed, he said, he could provision Flanders within twenty days and then a general solution could be worked out.132 Vázquez de Leca forwarded these letters to the king and suggested that he accept Ovando’s solution. Ovando indicated that if the king did not agree immediately to closing the fair, he saw no need to pursue the matter, because, having given his opinion, he had fulfilled his duty. “I no longer have the strength to fight these things,” he wrote.133 Ovando’s attempt in the previous year to simultaneously suspend payment on debts and confiscate the treasure fleet had been frustrated. He hoped for a better result in 1575, but this too was frustrated. After more than a year of discussion the decree of suspension was signed on 1 September 1575.134 It was announced to the Cortes on 15 September, by which time Ovando was dead. Lovett believes that in its final form the decree was the work primarily of the king and that Ovando and the junta had little impact on it.135 Ovando’s condition that the decree should coincide with the seizure of the bullion was not met, so that the admission of bankruptcy was not accompanied by any increase of crown wealth. The immediate result was dislocation in the financial markets and panic in both Spain and Genoa.136 A general settlement was not reached until 1577, after two years of acrimonious negotiations.137 The long-range effects of the bankruptcy were harmful, not only to Spain but also to all of Europe. It was far more disastrous than either that of 1560 or the later one of 1596.138 The impact of the sudden increase in the encabezamiento was felt mostly in Castile. It adversely affected on the Castilian economy and wiped out many merchants. Together with poor harvests, it contributed to a general recession that turned a growing economy

THE ROAD TO BANKRUPTCY

187

into a declining one.139 The crown found itself unable to pay its army in Flanders, a fact that helped to lead to “the Spanish Fury,” the sack of Antwerp by unpaid soldiers, in November 1576. The events of 1573–75 probably made any settlement with the Flemish rebels impossible and lost Flanders to Spain. There can be no doubt that the blunders of 1574–75 had profoundly negative effects on the Castilian economy. Ovando did not see any of this, for he died on 8 September 1575.

OVANDO’S CONTRIBUTIONS At some unknown date a friar named Francisco de Córdoba wrote to Philip II about the grievances of the king’s subjects. The king referred him to Ovando, who granted him an interview. Fray Francisco said that the people had grievances in five areas: the alcabala, the sale of public lands (which may refer to communal pastures), the sale of ecclesiastical jurisdictions, and the monopoly on missals and breviaries. Ovando asked the friar what should be done. Fray Francisco replied that the alcabala should be reduced, the lands of cities should not be sold, the salt tax should be one real per fanega (equivalent to 1.58 bushels) and the monopoly should be abolished, and church jurisdictions should no longer be sold. He added that many poor clerics and religious had given up the recitation of the breviary because they could not afford the books. In rebuttal Ovando pointed out that the king required palaces, councils, and ministers, all of which cost some 400,000 ducados; that the king had to protect the realm at a cost of 600,000 ducados; that galleys and warships cost more than a million ducados; that a standing army against the Turks and Moors cost two million; and that another army fighting against heretics cost two million. The poor friar was overwhelmed by the flood of statistics and admitted that the king was obliged to do all these things.140 The incident is revealing for several reasons besides the fact that the president of the Council of Finance intimidated the good friar. That the friar was granted such an interview at the king’s request shows the extent to which the Spanish crown paid service—lip service if naught else—to its role as the distributor of justice. Through his discussion with fray Francisco and all the discussions of the juntas and councils, Ovando never seriously suggested that the crown needed to curtail its spending. He accepted as a given that the king had a right and need to continue expenditures as he

188

JUAN DE OVANDO

had before. Despite their crushing financial burden, Ovando believed that the wars in the Low Countries and the Mediterranean were necessary for the survival of the monarchy and the advancement of Catholicism. He sought a remedy for the royal financial plight by lobbying for reorganization and rational structure in both the financial organism and the structure of government. Though much of the indebtedness had been inherited from Charles V, Ovando did nothing to restrain the free-spending policies of his monarch, and therein probably lay his greatest failure in the area of finances. In the years after Ovando’s death there were some who viewed him as among those who were incompetent in financial matters.141 In January 1578 Antonio de Padilla, president of the Council of Finance, wrote a report on the council for Philip II. The report indicated that little had changed or improved in the intervening years and continued, “[I]n truth, Ovando knew little about finance. Being already of considerable age . . . and having no help from his ministers, he was not able to enter thoroughly into the science[,] . . . and neither Juan de Ovando nor, I believe, anyone can learn this in old age.”142 Padilla had his own motives for this harsh judgment, but in substance it was true. Ovando never wanted the presidency of the council and had to begin the study of finances at what was in that century an advanced age. He put his faith in rational organization and efficient handling of business and seemed to have little concern for the burden on the lower classes.

CHAPTER TEN

The King’s Good Servant

A

fter the death of Cardinal Espinosa in 1572 Philip II and his advisers began searching for a replacement as president of the Council of Castile. Ovando seemed to be the best qualified candidate. Cabrera de Córdoba described him as, “president of the Council of the Indies, close to being that of Castile, truthful, upright, qualified,” but then quickly added that “the only thing against him was that he was so involved in the affairs of his office that it would hurt them.”1 Ovando was not chosen. Three years later, however, Archbishop Moya de contreras wrote of hearing a rumor that Ovando had been named archbishop of Santiago and president of the Council of Castile.2 It is difficult to verify if there was any basis to that rumor. None of the documents in the Archivo General de Simancas, Quitaciones de Corte, makes any reference to such appointments. On the contrary on 4 June 1574 Pope Gregory XIII named the bishop of Málaga, Francisco de Blanco, archbishop of Santiago.3 Buenaventura Delgado’s notes on the colegiales of San Bartolomé mention Ovando’s appointment as president of the Council of the Indies and state, “afterwards in 1574 he was appointed to the royal council [postea anno 1574 creatus consilii Regis].”4 It would certainly have been an extraordinary appointment, since Ovando was still technically a member of the Suprema and the president of both the Council of Finance and the Council of the Indies. There is no reference to such an appointment in the extensive correspondence between Ovando and Vázquez de Leca at this time. The royal cédulas concerning Ovando’s will and burial refer to his presidency of the Indies and Finance but say nothing about the Council of Castile, nor is there a mention

190

JUAN DE OVANDO

of it on his tombstone. It is possible that the appointment was contemplated but never implemented. Little is known about the causes of Ovando’s death. In 1571 he had a spell of bad health, but nothing specific was mentioned.5 On 14 April 1575 he wrote to Vázquez de Leca that he had been ill with catarro and its attendant fevers.6 A few days later a certain Arrellana, who may have been Ovando’s secretary, wrote to Vázquez de Leca that Ovando was ill with a small abscess (apostemilla) on his face.7 On the same day Ovando wrote to Vázquez de Leca that he had not been well for two days.8 A few days later Ovando wrote that he was feeling better because he had been working on a difficult project, apparently sent by the king’s secretary.9 On 28 April 1575 Ovando again wrote to Vázquez de Leca about his health. He had an abscess, but the surgeon assured him that he would soon be better. On the same day he held meetings of the Councils of the Indies and Finance.10 Ovando’s death was not unexpected. He began settling his affairs in early September 1575. Years of dedication to the royal service left him with nothing but debts. Spanish sovereigns were not noted for their generosity or gratitude to their servants. Service and sacrifice were expected as matters of right. Philip II is reputed to have said that he preferred to do more for the dead than for the living.11 His officials were often paid inadequate salaries, and many, like Ovando, died in real or borderline poverty or heavily in debt. It was at that point that the king would seek to make some restitution. This was true in Ovando’s case. Six days before his death Ovando wrote to Philip II to ask for money to clear his debts,12 which were contracted in the royal service, and he gave a history of both his debts and his service. On 4 August 1564, he wrote, he left Seville for the visita of the University of Alcalá de Henares. The visita lasted two and a half years, during which he was paid nothing by the crown. He received little or no salary from his posts as canon, provisor, and inquisitor of Seville because he was not in residence.13 Since he had to support himself and his servants, this was the beginning of his indebtedness. He listed a total of 5,400 ducados for debts incurred during the visita of the Council of the Indies. He mentioned both Juan de Ledesma and Juan López de Velasco, who had served on the visita, as witnesses. As president of the Council of Finance, Ovando said, he had worked for a year and a half “with great effort and to the extent of [his] capacities” and deserved the same salary as the presidents of the other councils.14 “I have

THE KING’S GOOD SERVANT

191

no other estate from which to pay my debts and obligations which afflict my soul and what there is [is] in order to do good for my soul,” he wrote.15 He suggested that the king delay naming a successor to the president of the Council of the Indies—and in fact it was four years before a new president was named—and let those functions be exercised by the senior councillor.16 The money saved could be used to reimburse his creditors.17 This was a rather remarkable statement for someone so devoted to good order. On 4 September Ovando completed his will and had it notarized. Four days later the royal notary, Juan de Mitarte, wrote, “[A]fter ten o’clock at night I saw the most illustrious señor Juan de Ovando, president of His Majesty’s Councils of Indies and Finance . . . and the next day, the eighth of the said month, early in the morning, I saw him dead, and many persons who were at his end and death said that he died at two in the morning.”18 That is all that is known about the final illness and death of Juan de Ovando. The abscess may have been cancerous, but there is no way of knowing for sure. Ovando died at the house of Diego Ramírez in Madrid, where he had been lodging. Ovando’s will was registered in Madrid on 4 September 1575. The executors were Diego Mejía de Ovando, knight of the order of Alcántara, licenciado Alonso Martínez Espadero of the Council of the Indies, frey Diego de Ovando of the order of Alcántara, and Juan de Ledesma, Ovando’s secretary in the visita of the Council of the Indies and at that time its notary (escribano de cámara).19 All of these men had long been associated with Ovando. In his will Ovando left instructions that he be buried in the cemetery of the church of Santa María, his parish in Madrid. It was almost unheard of for a high official of the crown or any person of rank to be buried in a cemetery rather than in a church. His executors considered the request a sign of humility, “more to be praised than carried out,” and set it aside with the permission of Philip II.20 The body was taken to Cáceres, where a more appropriate tomb was built in the Ovando family church of San Mateo. He was buried there on 15 September 1575.21 The epitaph reads, “Here lies the señor licenciado don Juan de Ovando, great-grandson of Captain Diego de Ovando de Cáceres, fellow of the colegio mayor of San Bartolomé of Salamanca, president of the Councils of the Indies and Finance on which he served simultaneously during the reign of the Catholic King don Felipe II. He died on 8 September 1575.”22 It is instructive that

192

JUAN DE OVANDO

his family ties and the fact of being a bartolomico rated a mention on his tomb on a par with his presidency of two royal councils. In one of the clauses of his will Ovando directed that every year on All Saints’ Day (1 November) one high mass and ten low masses should be celebrated for his soul, for the souls of the dead to whom he had an obligation, and for all the souls in purgatory.23 On the Feasts of Saint Bartholomew (24 August), Saint Anthony of Padua (13 June), and Saint Julian (probably the archbishop of Toledo whose feast was celebrated on 6 March), one high mass should be sung “for the celebration and commemoration of the said saints to whom I have always been and am devoted and because they have been and in order that they may be my advocates for my salvation.”24 It was his intention that this would be paid for with the income from the sale of his goods. His brother Antonio and Antonio’s son Francisco were given responsibility for seeing that these masses were said. It was also Ovando’s intention to establish a chaplaincy at San Mateo for the celebration of these masses, with the chaplain being the priest who was most closely related to him. Ovando died so poor that there was insufficient estate to take care of his servants and other obligations.25 At a later date, probably after 1589, Philip II granted 1,000 pesos from the Nuevo Reino de Granada, paid to Juan de Ledesma, the sole surviving executor, to be used for both the chaplaincy and the adornment of Ovando’s tomb.26 In 1593 Ledesma used the money to purchase a juro based on the income from the alcabalas of Cáceres to establish a chaplaincy in the church together with certain conditions and obligations for saying the masses.27 The income in 1593 and 1594 amounted to 65,200 maravedís. Four hundred ducados of income from the first year of the juro were to be used for the erection of an arch above the tomb and a bust of Ovando together with an inscription. Today the tomb has an arch but no bust. As happened so frequently in that litigious age, this gave rise to numerous lawsuits that continued into the following century.28 After the chaplaincy had been set up and the first chaplain named, the clergy of Cáceres laid claim to it, alleging that Ledesma had failed to carry out his mandate within the allotted time.29 On 30 December 1595 Philip II issued another cédula validating everything that Ledesma had done and forbidding any further interference, giving as the reason for Ledesma’s inaction the delay in receiving the money from the Indies.30 On 4 December 1612 Ledesma turned over all of his rights to the chaplaincy and its income to Diego de

THE KING’S GOOD SERVANT

193

Ovando y Torres.31 This did not end the lawsuits, however. The question arose as to which of Ovando’s relatives was entitled to hold the chaplaincy. This question was still under litigation as late as 1632.32 In his will Juan de Ovando named his brother Antonio de Ovando as sole heir.33 Antonio requested an inventory of Juan’s estate on 15 November 1575. Three inventories were taken: the chapel, goods already sold and their prices, and books.34 The inventory of the chapel was surprisingly long and included among the furniture a clavichord. Of the goods sold, it appears that there were two coaches and two mules and two globes and an astrolabe. Everything else was ordinary household furniture. Antonio benefited little from his borther’s will. On 3 March 1576 the Council of the Indies voted to pay to Ovando’s heir 146,708 maravedís.35 Ten days later the council noted that because of Juan de Ovando’s services and Antonio’s need, the king had decided to grant the latter 1,000 pesos from the situación of licenciado García de Castro in Peru, to be paid during the lifetime of Antonio and that of his eldest son, Francisco.36 A royal cédula from Madrid on the 28 March decreed “that because in view of the many and very outstanding and important services that the late licenciado Juan de Ovando did for us,” Antonio was to receive 1,000 pesos from a royal encomienda.37 The encomiendas in question were Belille and Guanaquito in Cuzco.38 On 3 September 1577 Philip II issued a cédula from the Escorial ordering the payment of the equivalent of one year of Ovando’s salaries to the executors.39 Four days later the Council of the Indies noted “[T]o the heirs of the said Juan de Ovando was given the free [encomienda] for a second year.”40 On 5 October the Council of the Indies ordered the payment of one year’s salary to the executors.41 Antonio died on 10 May 1583. In 1584 his descendants were seeking some 74,043 reales in payment.42 If a man’s books tell us of his character and personality, then the 363 titles in Ovando’s library deserve careful study.43 Not surprisingly for a jurist and administrator, almost 40 percent were legal texts. They dealt not only with Roman and canon law but also with Spanish law, such as the Siete Partidas and the fueros of Castile and Aragon. As an inquisitor Ovando possessed a copy of the Malleus Malificarum, the notorious manual of court procedures in cases of witchcraft. This is rather surprising in view of the Spanish Inquisition’s hands-off attitude toward supposed witches. The second largest group comprised theological works, a comprehensive collection that included Arias Montano’s commentary on the twelve minor

194

JUAN DE OVANDO

prophets and several medieval theologians, among them Antoninus of Florence, Thomas Aquinas, and Durandus. It was particularly strong on the church fathers, with the complete works of Saint Jerome and the collected works of Saint Augustine, Saint Ambrose, the Venerable Bede, and Cyril of Alexandria. Ovando had a great interest in the works of classical antiquity, including Terrence, Plautus, Livy, Ovid, Plato, Pliny, Ptolemy, Suetonius, Vergil, and Flavius Josephus. Only two books were in Greek, however; all others by Greek authors were Latin translations. As Alcalá de Henares was the only university that placed importance on the study of Greek, it is understandable that Ovando probably knew little of that language. The humanist side of Ovando’s personality is also seen in the Renaissance authors found in his library, such as Marsiglio Ficino, Juan Luis Vives, Lorenzo Valla, and Erasmus. The Erasmian works, however, were the Adagia and Apophthegmata, which were primarily grammatical and stylistic in content, not connected with his philosophical and religious ideas. In contrast, he owned the complete works of Vives. Unfortunately, the work by Valla is unnamed. He also had one Hebrew grammar. There were books on astronomy and mathematics (including one book on Euclid), especially on the use of the astrolabe. Somewhat more unexpected are the books on medicine, specifically, the works of Galen and Hippocrates. Ovando’s library reflected his work on the Council of the Indies. There were copies of the histories of the Castilian conquests that had become standard by that time, such as Gonzalo Fernández de Oviedo’s Historia, the Décadas of Pedro Mártir d’Anglería, the history of Peru by Diego Fernández, and the Relación of Alvar Núñez Cabeza de Vaca. Alonso de Ercilla’s epic poem on the conquest of Chile, La Araucana, was also in the library. Notably lacking was the Cedulario of Vasco de Puga, an early attempt to compile the laws of the Indies. It may be that it was available at the Council of the Indies. There were two works that certainly pique the interest of modern-day historians, an unnamed work by las Casas and a SpanishNahuatl dictionary, Vocabulario de las lenguas castellana y mexicana, most likely that of Alonso de Molina, first published in 1555 and 1571. There were notable lacunae. Only two Bibles were listed, one the Biblia Regia edited by Arias Montano, the other simply labeled “antigua.” Completely absent were devotional books or books of ascetic or mystical theology (some of the greatest works of Spanish spirituality would appear only after

THE KING’S GOOD SERVANT

195

Ovando’s death). Though his collection of theological works was extensive, there were no works by the theologians of the Thomistic revival at Salamanca, such as Francisco de Vitoria and Melchor Cano. Juan de Ovando’s library was first and foremost a reference library. It shows that he was a practical person who at the same time had a lively and curious mind. There was definitely an element of the Renaissance man in his character. The assertion that it was the library of a technocrat rather than an intellectual cannot be supported.44 There are no known portraits of Ovando. In October 1571 a certain Gonzalo de Molina commissioned forty-four portraits of notables by the famed Spanish painter Alonso Sánchez Coello, including one of Ovando. By the following year it was still unfinished.45 Nothing more is known about it. The sort of problem against which Ovando fought surfaced again after his death. On 23 September 1576 some letters arrived for him from the viceroy of Peru. They were in code, and the king did not know where the code book was. He thought that it might be among Ovando’s papers.46 Despite all Ovando’s efforts, some things in the Spanish bureaucracy had not changed.

SERVING GOD AND KING “I am the king’s good servant but God’s first.” Thomas More’s final words from the scaffold are justly famous as exemplifying not only the courage of his stance but also the agonizing choice between two loyalties that had been forced on him. Juan de Ovando would not have understood the need to make such a choice. To him, as to his fellow letrados, to serve the king was to serve God. There could be no conflict between the two. Philip II himself believed that what he did was God’s work on earth.47 “There’s such divinity doth hedge a king,” said Hamlet’s uncle, and that sentiment was fitting for the court of Philip II. It had a highly religious character, both in its practices and in the way it was viewed by its courtiers.48 Philip was truly the Catholic king (rey católico). He was also the source of all authority and all patronage, both church and state. Although he was often bored with the ceremonial surrounding his person and preferred a simple lifestyle and dress, Philip II could at the same time intimidate even the strongest of men by his inscrutability, nearly inaudible speech, and stoic manner.49 His empire was theocratic in the sense that Spain’s grandeur was also God’s

196

JUAN DE OVANDO

glory; the kingdom of Spain was the kingdom of God. The king resided in the Escorial, the ministers and councils in Madrid. Even for them, Philip II was a distant and aloof presence. The principal means of communication were the consulta and reports and memorials, and all of these were funneled to the king through Mateo Vázquez de Leca. There is only one, sure recorded instance of Ovando’s having a personal audience with the king. Ovando’s approach to administration fitted perfectly with Philip II’s devotion to paperwork and detail. This study supports the more traditional concept of Philip II’s mode of government: the slowness of communication, the delays in responding to crises, personal indecision, reluctance of ministers to take responsibility, fiscal crises, the king’s failure to delegate, the conflicting and overlapping jurisdiction of governmental agencies, the compartmentalization of information and administration, the careful parceling of information to subordinates, a Castilian centralism, peninsularity, factionalism, and conflict of interest and inexperience on the part of councillors. Unfortunately for Castile, “confuse and rule” engendered as much confusion as rule. Philip’s administrative style was, in modern parlance, one of “reaction strategy” or “crisis management.” He generally did not take a proactive role. Most problems were dealt with only after they had become acute. The system of councils, inherited from medieval precedents, was not adequate for the needs of the sixteenth century, at least in the cases of the Indies and Finance. The primary reason for this was the ignorance and lack of experience of the persons called to serve on the councils. It is instructive that two historians, separated by almost forty years, described these two councils in the same terms. Ernesto Schäfer called the records of the Council of the Indies “all this chaos”; Lovett called the Council of Finance “a model of chaos.”50 One can see why Ovando was obsessed with the idea of reorganization and structuring, for it was the only way to guarantee that the conciliar form of government would work. In this study the inadequacies of the Council of the Indies and the Council of Finance stand out. Ovando’s visita of the Council of the Indies uncovered a high level of corruption and cronyism, but the overriding difficulty was the councillors’ ignorance of the New World. Ovando and others tried to persuade the king that the members, or at least the president, should have some experience in the Indies and that he should appoint oidores and other officials to the council, but Philip II refused. In the Council of Finance, as well, the

THE KING’S GOOD SERVANT

197

members, with the possible exception of Francisco de Garnica, knew little of finances and were involved in conflicts of interest (Garnica himself being a royal creditor). The inadequacies of the conciliar model led to the rise of the juntas. These displaced or replaced the councils as the king’s source of information and advice. Often however, they proved little better than the councils. Though Ovando participated in both the Junta Magna and the Junta of Presidents, he had scant patience with their shortcomings—he considered them useless debating societies—and sought, through reorganization, to revive the authority of the councils. Ovando saw the solution in the appointment of strong ministers with extensive powers—and he clearly saw himself as such a minister. Though he received extensive powers as president of the Council of the Indies, neither he nor any other minister approached the level of authority of Cardinal Espinosa. Philip II’s government was also a rule by factions. The letrados formed one such faction, and in a special way the bartolomicos tended to be clannish and cliquish. It appears, however, that the membership in these factions was not always stable, that there was a certain fluidity as individuals switched from one side to another. The rise or ascendancy of one faction did not inevitably mean the eclipse of the others. This would have been contrary to the Habsburg system of checks and balances. The juntas in particular show a mixture of different groups. Ovando was above all else a letrado. His life story is a window on the mentality, attitudes, and workings of the letrado bureaucracy-meritocracy: single-minded devotion to the king, enmity toward the old nobility, mania for rational organization, legalism, identification of the service of God and crown, often self-sacrificing, Castilian and peninsular. The letrados saw themselves as disinterested and upright royal servants whose only concern was serving the king and promoting the welfare of his subjects. In contrast to the perceived factions and self-aggrandizement of the nobility, the letrados’ vision of themselves was that of dedicated civil servants who were capable and efficient. Yet at the same time Ovando’s visita shows that many of the most avaricious, corrupt, and aggressive officials in both Spain and the Indies were letrados. Though letrados had played key roles in Spanish imperial administration long before the reign of Philip II, they enjoyed a greater ascendancy under that prudent monarch. Ovando, like many of his associates, wanted

198

JUAN DE OVANDO

a government by letrados, displacing the grandes and títulos who claimed a superior role because of their bloodlines and status in society. It was aristocracy versus meritocracy, but the letrado meritocracy was also supported by a close-knit network of partisanship, factions, and “old boy” associations. Ovando’s most quixotic move was his attempt to have letrados appointed viceroys in the New World. That would have constituted a true revolution in Spanish administration. James M. Boyden has given an excellent summary of the situation: “The crown needed and had to create and utilize a class of servants who were simultaneously dependent upon the king and of sufficient stature to hold their own with the haughty noblesse de race.”51 For the most part, the letrados came from poor families. In fact, a certain level of poverty was a prerequisite for acceptance into a colegio mayor such as San Bartolomé. In part because they had no economic or power base, their rise depended entirely on royal favor. At the same time Espinosa and, to a lesser extent, Ovando were contemptuous of the old aristocracy. The letrados’ sense of exclusivity and status was bolstered by the statutes of limpieza de sangre. The concept of blood purity was not static. It did not have the same meaning at Ovando’s death that it had had fifty years before. The ancient bloodlines of the nobility were matched by the letrados’ freedom from any taint of Judaism, Islam, or heresy. In addition, they were free of any dishonor in their ancestry, including punishment by civil justice and demeaning occupations. The letrados may have arisen from poverty, but their ancestors were Old Christians who had not worked at unsuitable occupations. Thus, ironically, both the nobles and the letrados believed in the importance, even the necessity, of ancestry and blood descent. They differed on how they defined it. A large number of the letrados in Ovando’s time were churchmen, but they were lawyers rather than theologians. In addition to Ovando and Vázquez de Leca, these included Fernando de Valdés, Diego de Espinosa, Diego de Covarrubias, and Benito Arias Montano. These men saw no inconsistency in dedicating their lives to the king and royal administration. Though bishops like Valdés and Espinosa did give attention to their dioceses, if only as absentees, that was not their primary duty. There is no evidence that Ovando or Vázquez de Leca, personally devout as they may possibly have been, ever exercised even a minimal ministry as priests. The king’s service was their ministry.

THE KING’S GOOD SERVANT

199

Precisely because so many of the letrados were churchmen, the Catholic Reformation and the Council of Trent strongly influenced their outlook. For them, as for their king, the reform and vitality of the church was the primary goal. This reform, however, was to be according to accepted, regalistic style. Philip II professed devotion to the pope, but that did not prevent his restricting papal power in his kingdoms. The boundaries between church and state were blurred but with the state holding the controlling hand. The Catholic Church in the Spanish empire was a national church, but in a collaborative as well as an administrative sense. In some ways the aims of Trent and those of the crown coincided, for example, the enhancement of the role of the bishop, the control of the religious orders, the regularization of ecclesiastical government and practice, the calling of provincial councils, and improving the quality of the clergy. Despite the immense number of documents that Ovando penned or received or that were written about him, there is much in his life that is elusive: his early education, when, where, or to what orders he was ordained, his relationship with the many putative relatives who helped him in his work, how he came to be provisor of Seville, how he first attached himself to Diego de Espinosa, and whether he was presidentelect of the Council of Castile. Similarly, we know little about the purpose and nature of the web of clients formulated by Diego de Alderete in Seville or about the way in which Espinosa gained the confidence of the king so quickly. Our knowledge of Ovando as a person is also limited. Much of his prodigious energy and ambition probably resulted from his father’s illegitimacy and his family’s humble circumstances. He had a mania for organization and order. He wrote to Mateo Vázquez, “[Y]ou know how I hate to be idle.”52 His early relationship with Mateo Vázquez is the only sign of an affective aspect in his character, and that eventually receded. Not enough is known of his personal life to attempt any sort of psychological profile. One receives the impression that letrados like Espinosa, Ovando, Moya de Contreras, and Vázquez de Leca had no private lives, only professional ones, that there was no “man behind the man.” This is not true, but existing documentation gives us only the royal servant, not the human being. Apparently Ovando’s workaholic attitudes and attention to detail could grate on or at least weary his coworkers, as demonstrated in Vázquez de Leca’s comment, “[T]here are many of us in the world just as

200

JUAN DE OVANDO

imperfect.”53 Juan del Castillo, bishop of Cuba, wrote, “I learned never to be idle for one hour more than Your Excellency.”54 For all of his forward-looking ideas, Juan de Ovando was not a modern man. He belonged to the sixteenth century, specifically, to that century in Castile. This explains many of his attitudes toward religion, the Inquisition, limpieza de sangre, suspect doctrine, and devotion to the king and his participation in the letrado network. He believed in all these things, and for this reason some of what he did seems deplorable by modern standards. Certainly his role as hatchet man for Valdés in Seville did him little credit, especially in the Constantino affair. He never felt any regret for this and in fact believed that his actions were correct. He was a sincere supporter of the Inquisition, but he could hardly have believed that Constantino was a threat to orthodoxy or that Spain was imperiled by Lutheran cells. It should be noted, however, that after Seville he became less aggressive and more diplomatic. In Seville he was something of an extremist; in Alcalá de Henares he was a moderate. Perhaps it was because in that university context he was his own agent, not subject to an overlord whom he had to please. But there was an element of manipulation and hypocrisy in his attitude toward limpieza de sangre, especially in regard to Vázquez de Leca. Ovando was ambitious and self-promoting, yet he was content to remain relatively unknown and to work behind the scenes. He sought power but not for its own sake. He saw it as a means of advancing religion and monarchy and bringing efficiency to both. Unlike Espinosa, he did not live luxuriously and showed no sign of greed. The only money he sought was for repayment of debts contracted in the king’s service. Unlike Espinosa, Ovando was never a privado, a favorite who had ready access to the king, was given honors, and whose opinion was close to definitive. The evidence shows that personal contacts between Ovando and Philip II were almost exclusively through memorials, consultas, and letters, and even these usually went through Vázquez de Leca. The king may have wanted to keep a distance between himself and his intimidating minister. On viewing the many lengthy reports that Ovando sent to the king, one can sympathize with any weariness or impatience the king may have felt. According to Geoffrey Parker, “Not surprisingly, the king came to hate the smug Ovando.”55 This is questionable, though not implausible. Dependence and dislike often go hand in hand.

THE KING’S GOOD SERVANT

201

It would be a mistake to classify Ovando as a faceless bureaucrat. He was a man of vision, which can be seen in his reform of the University of Alcalá de Henares and his grand design for the Indies. He believed that Spain and its king had a mission in the world, and he sought to bring his own work to bear on realizing that vision. On 17 March 1575, when he heard of the king’s good health, he wrote to Mateo Vázquez, “May God keep him, for the world has need of him.”56 However, Ovando’s zeal for king and empire was balanced by a genuine concern about justice for the natives of the New World. His ordenanzas on pacifications and settlements were the backbone of Castilian policy for the rest of the colonial period. Martínez Millán’s assertion that Espinosa’s death spelled the end of letrado ascendancy is debatable.57 Though there was no immediate successor to the cardinal’s position of power, the letrados continued to be a strong, even dominating influence in certain areas of government, especially the Indies. Ovando was ascendant in the last years of his life, and Vázquez de Leca took his place after 1575. Ovando never reached the same pinnacle of power as had Espinosa. His impact on Castilian foreign policy in Europe and the Mediterranean world came entirely from his position on the Council of Finance. Ovando amassed a great deal of power, but it was in restricted areas. His two greatest achievements were the reform of the University of Alcalá de Henares and his work on the Council of the Indies. His visitation and reform of the university not only showed his humanistic side but also set a tone for one of Castile’s greatest schools that lasted for two hundred years. Ovando’s presidency of the Council of the Indies was a crucial period in the history of Spain’s policies in the New World. Ovando wanted a clear, coherent policy in which each group had its place and in which its rights and interests were defined and protected. He believed in the crown’s right to rule the Indies and in its mission there. The means to achieve this began with the reform of the Council of the Indies, but in fact it was Ovando himself who was the arbiter of colonial policy for four years. The long-range means for guaranteeing a rational policy were the codification of the laws of the Indies and the Relaciones geográficas. Through no fault of Ovando’s, neither of these achieved their stated purpose during his lifetime. He was the architect of colonial policy, but it was only partially implemented. It is fascinating but ultimately futile to speculate on the impact he could have had if he had lived longer.

202

JUAN DE OVANDO

Castile’s colonial policies underwent substantial change in the years that Ovando was involved with them, and his impact on the entire New World situation is undeniable. In view of that it is disheartening that so little of his contributions are reflected in histories and studies of the Spanish empire in the New World in the colonial period. There is, in fact, a gap between the histories of Castile and its overseas possessions. Events, developments, and institutions in the peninsula are not reflected in studies of America.58 Yet these had a strong influence on what was occurring in the New World. Among the important issues are the concept of kingship, the process for formulating and implementing policies, bureaucratic organization, the Habsburg system of checks and balances, the impact of factionalism, the Spanish crown’s messianic sense of destiny, the financial crises, the threats to the fabric of empire, religious organization and practice, dynastic and political instability, and the precarious nature of the empire. When historians of colonial Latin America do treat Castile, they rarely go beyond Fernando and Isabel. America was only one part of a broader empire. The Castilian dimension needs to be articulated, and not just with regard to those factors that led to revolution. Ovando was less successful on the Council of Finance. Conflicts of interest, conflicting advice, and the incompetence of many advisers worked against a solution to the crown’s financial problems. In the end it was the demands of a global empire and Castile’s external commitments that bled it of money and resources. Ovando had no special knowledge of finances, but neither did anyone else in that age. Ovando believed that the key to successful functioning of the councils was strong, authoritarian leadership by the presidents. He came close to achieving this on the Council of the Indies but was less successful on the Council of Finance. Philip II was reluctant to trust any subordinate with a large share of power. In one sense, then, Ovando’s place in the history of Philip II’s reign can be seen negatively, that is, by the failures to maintain his policies after his death: the proposed recopilación which was immediately abandoned at his death and which did not appear until 1680; the sometimes disorganized collection of information in the Relaciones geográficas and the failure to use that information fully; the failure to coordinate the impounding of the treasure fleet with the consolidation of debts in 1575. But, as Vázquez de Leca observed, not everyone could keep up with Ovando.

THE KING’S GOOD SERVANT

203

Ovando was just coming into his own when he died. The letrado spirit lived on in Vázquez de Leca, though it is not clear how dominant it was in other areas of government. In the next century there was a move toward government by favorites. The career of Juan de Ovando is a story of both what was and what might have been.

This page intentionally left blank

APPENDIX

Spanish Coinage of the Sixteenth Century

T

he basic unit of coinage and the one against which all others were measured was the maravedí, a fictional standard of value which did not circulate as currency. The coins most commonly in circulation were the peso and real. Each peso was divided into eight reales and twelve granos. 1 peso de oro de minas = 450 maravedís 1 ducado (5/6 of oro de minas) = 375 maravedís 1 peso de oro = 450 maravedís 1 peso de oro común = a silver coin worth 272 maravedíes or 1 peso of silver 1 peso de tepusque = same as one peso de oro común (tepuzque, from Nahuatl tepoztli, meaning copper, bronze, iron, or metal in general). Gold mixed with copper = 272 maravedís. 1 silver peso = 8 reales. 1 real = 12 granos 1 real = 1 tomín. In the sixteenth century tomín often referred to money in general, especially in Nahuatl.

This page intentionally left blank

Glossary

Actas Adelantado

Alcabala Alcalde de corte Alcalde del crimen Alcalde mayor Alguacil Alguacil mayor Almojarifazgo Alumbrados

Anticipos Arcediano

Arrendamiento de renta Arroba Asentista Asiento

Official written records or minutes of meetings. Commander of an expedition of conquest. Governor of a frontier area that had not yet passed to civil rule. Sales taxes. In 1572, a little below 2 percent. Judge of the civil division of the audiencia Judge of the criminal division of the audiencia. Chief magistrate and administrative officer of a province. Equivalent to a corregidor. Constable, peace officer. Chief constable of a district; constable for an alcalde mayor. Import-export duty. “Enlightened” individuals who sought a more personal, simplified approach to religion, often inspired by Erasmus of Rotterdam. Anticipated crown revenues. Archdeacon, official of the cathedral chapter who examined all who presented themselves for ordination and sometimes acted as administrator of a diocese in the absence of a bishop. He was the presiding office of the chapter. Tax farming Unit of dry measure, about 25 pounds. Negotiator or holder of asientos. Also called hombres de negocios. Contract. Often used to refer to short-term contracts for loans to the government, negotiated at the fair

208

GLOSSARY

Audiencia

Auto de fe

Auto de tentativa Bachiller

Bartolomico Beca Becario Bedel Beneficiado Bienes raíces Caballero Cabildo

Calificador Cámara de Castilla (1518)

Cambiador Canónigo magistral Capellán

at Medina del Campo. Unlike juros, these had specified repayment dates and were usually pledged against crown revenue. Highest court of appeals in a district. In the New World it also had administrative duties and served as a council for the viceroys. Public ceremony in which the sentences of the Inquisition were pronounccd. In English-language histories it is often given in the Portuguese form, auto-da-fé. In Spanish universities a first-stage examination. Holder of a bachelor’s degree. Less common and more prestigious in the sixteenth century than at present. Fellow (colegial) of the Colegio Mayor de San Bartolomé at the University of Salamanca. University scholarship. The recipient or holder of a beca. Town crier for Spanish universities; he also acted as a master for ceremonies for certain occasions. Holder of a benefice (beneficio), any ecclesiastical office to which an income was attached. Real property, immovable goods. Knight, member of the intermediate nobility. A knight ranked above a hidalgo. 1) Chapter of canons. 2) Municipal council. 3) Building in which the council met. Theologian whose duty it was to evaluate writings and propositions for heresy. Dealt with matters of patronage in Castile, that is, the appointment of bishops and beneficiados. It was originally a sort of council within the Council of Castile: its president was the president of that council together with three senior members. It was reorganized in 1588, apparently receiving a greater degree of independence. Person who handled international financial transactions. Official preacher of a cathedral chapter. Chaplain; cleric who received a stipend from an endowment in return for saying a specified number of masses.

GLOSSARY

Capitulación Carga Casa de Contratación Catedrático Cédula Censo

Chancellería Colegial Colegio Mayor

Colegio Menor

Comisario

Compluto Comunero Concordia Confeso Congregación Consulta Contaduría de Cuentas

209

Agreement or contract, specifically one that governed exploration and conquest. Measure of weight, equal to about three bushels. Board of Trade in Seville; also responsible for screening immigrants to the New World. Holder of a tenured chair in a university. Royal decree or order. Generically, a mortgage. Encumbrance on previously clear property. There were many varieties and forms. A major law court in Spain, located in Valladolid, Granada, and other principal cities. Fellow of a colegio, or residential college. Small prestigious residential college or fraternity, semiautonomous but within the university structure. Colegio mayores offered tutorial services and sometimes had their own chairs. Their programs usually lasted about eight years, and members wore distinctive dress and prcticed an austere lifestyle. Members elected the rector of the colegio. The same as a colegio mayor except for the size of the endowment, the course of studies, and the prestige of the founder. Members did not elect the rector of a colegio menor. (1) One who has been given the charge and responsibility for carrying out a certain task. A commissionaire. (2) In the Inquisition a priest who helped with evaluating theological propositions or with ordinary administrative tasks Latin name for Alcalá de Henares. Participant in the revolt of the cities against Charles V in 1520–21. Jurisdictional agreement between the Inquisition and local governments. Another name for a Jewish convert to Christianity; converso. Reconcentration or settlement of scattered Indians into fixed settlements. Report or recommendation submitted to the king by one of the councils for his decision. Bookkeeping department of the Council of Finance.

210

GLOSSARY

Contaduría mayor

Converso

Cortes

Criollos Cruzada

Cura Dehesa Desempeño Deuda consolidada Deuda suelta Doctrina

Encabezamiento Entrada

Escribano Escribano de cámara Excomunión

Excusado

Principal accounting office of the Council of Finance, which was responsible for the overall administration and care of the treasury, especially the collection and expenditure of royal revenues. Convert from Judaism or Islam to Catholicism; used mostly in reference to Jewish converts and their descendants. Representative body of the principal cities of Castile. It had the right to vote on certain taxes. Also called reino. Creoles; persons of Spanish blood born in the New World. Tax or offering levied originally to finance wars against the Moslems, in return for which the offerer received indulgences and spiritual benefits. By the sixteenth century it was used to support the expenses of empire. Parish priest. Pasturelands. Process of unburdening or removing mortgages from crown income. Funded debt. Floating or running debt. Parish consisting of recently converted Indians but no longer in a strictly missionary status or yet a part of the diocesan structure. Payment of taxes, usually by the cities, in a lump sum rather than over the course of years. Military expedition or penetration of native territories. Entrée to a council by a nonmember. Notary or secretary in legal and judicial cases. Notary of the Council of the Indies. Excommunication; ecclesiastical penalty whereby a person was barred from receiving the sacraments and participating in public worship. An excomunión mayor barred him from all church actions, including Christian burial. Excomunión menor was not so drastic. The penalty was used more frequently in the sixteenth century than in modern times. Tax on ecclesiastical income from sources that were not exclusively religious, such as seigneurial dues.

GLOSSARY

Familiares

Feria

Fiscal

Flota Fray Frey Fuero Grande

Hacienda Hidalgo Hidalguía Entredicho

Juez de comisión Junta

Juro

Juro al quitar Juro de heredad Juro de por vida Juro de resguardo

211

Deputies or police agents of the Inquisition, often an honorary post. Servants in general. Financial fair, usually the one held at Medina del Campo, at which loans and interests rates were negotiated. In general, a crown attorney whose special function was to promote and defend royal jurisdiction. In the Council of the Indies he was to have special concern for the Indians and the poor. Convoy, specifically those that sailed between Seville and the New World. Title used with the name of a member of a mendicant order. Title used with the name of a member of one of the military orders. Charter of privileges and rights, usually belonging to cities. Highest rank of nobility in Spain, with the right to wear a hat in the king’s presence and be addressed by him as “cousin.” Global term for the royal treasury or financial administration. Member of the lowest rank of nobility. Patent of nobility. Interdict; ecclesiastical penalty by which religious services were forbidden in particular districts or churches. Investigative official appointed for a specific case ad hoc as opposed to standing committee. A group of experts called together for a specific task or purpose. Long-term, interest-paying bonds, issued by the crown. The interest formed a kind of annuity and was guaranteed by a lien on a specific crown revenue, such as a sales tax. Juro redeemable at a particular date rather than being perpetual. Juro de por vida that could be inherited. Juro redeemable at the end of a lifetime. Juro that carried additional collateral as a guarantee against default, together with the right to sell

212

GLOSSARY

Juro situado

Letrado Licenciado Limpieza de sangre

Marqués Medio general Merced Oidor Oposición Patronato real

Pechero Penitenciado Principal Procurador

Provisión

Provisor Quintal Quinto

part or all of the collateral before repayment by the crown. Juro based on a specific source of revenue. Situado meant that the income was burdened or mortgaged in advanced of being collected. Holder of a law degree, a professional civil servant. Holder of the degree of licentiate, intermediate between bachelor and doctor. A law degree. Certification that one had no Jewish or Moorish blood or descent from a person penanced by the Inquisition, a presupposition for doctrinal orthodoxy. Marquess, marquis, margrave. Title of nobility, usually ranked below a duke. Period of settlement or negotiation during which the repayment of the crown’s debts were renegotiated. Royal favor or grant. Judge of an audiencia. Public competition for an office, especially an ecclesiastical one. Congeries of rights and privileges that regulated the relations between church and state in the Spanish empire. Taxpayer, one who did not belong to one of the tax exempt classes. One who has been penanced or punished by the Inquisition. Indian noble. A village leader or official. 1) One who had the legal right by delegation to act in the name of another. 2) Representatives who defend the rights and privileges of cabildos (both municipal and ecclesiastical), cities, and religious orders. Did not need to be a trained attorney. 1) Order given by a tribunal that accompanied a royal decree and directed that it be implemented. 2) Act of conferring an office, such as a benefice. Chief ecclesiastical judge of a diocese, sometimes also the vicar general. Measure of weight, about 100 pounds. Royal share of the gold and silver mined in the colonies, theoretically 20 percent but varying.

GLOSSARY

Reconciliados por diminutos Reino

Relator

Sambenito Servicios ordinario y extraordinario Síndico

Subsidio Suprema Tercias Tierras Baldías Títulos Visita Visitador

213

Persons accused by the Inquisition who made partial confessions and were reconcilied. 1) Kingdom, a division of the Spanish empire, usually one with its own audiencia. 2) Cortes of Castile. Clerk in the Council of the Indies who was responsible for gathering and arranging petitions and other papers. Distinctive garb, resembling a chasuble, worn by those reconciled or condemned by the Inquisition. Taxes, usually voted by the Cortes and paid by nonexempt taxpayers (pecheros). The burden usually fell on the lower classes. Official who collected court fines but also acted as a public defender for any organization or corporation, such as a university. Tax on ecclesiastical income, usually 10 percent, also know as décima and cuarta. Supreme governing council of the Inquisition in Spain. King’s share of the tithes amounting to twoninths of the total. Common lands. High-ranking nobility in Spain, just below grandes. General or specific investigation of governmental operation or abuses. Office in charge of conducting a visita.

This page intentionally left blank

Notes

ABBREVIATIONS BL AGI AGS AHN AHP ASCM AUS IVDJ

British Library, London, United Kingdom Archivo General de Indias, Seville, Spain Archivo General de Simancas, Simancas, Spain Archivo Histórico Nacional, Madrid, Spain Archivo Histórico de Protocolos, Madrid, Spain Archivo de la Santa Catedral Metropolitana, Seville, Spain Archivo de la Universidad de Salamanca, Salamanca, Spain Instituto de Valencia de Don Juan, Madrid, Spain CHAPTER 1

1. La vida de Lazarillo de Tormes, 147–201. 2. Brenan, The Literature of the Spanish People, 170. 3. Lynch, Spain under the Habsburgs, 1:4. 4. “Hapsburg administration had treated justice as the highest attribute of sovereignty” (Taylor, Magistrates of the Sacred, 13). 5. On this aspect of kingship, see Thompson, “Absolutism in Castile,” V. 74. 6. Parker, Grand Strategy, 21–26; Parker, Philip II, 26, which has a diagram of the conciliar structure; Williams, Philip II, 64–70. A good description of the working of some of the councils (State, War, Castile, Cámara, Military Orders, Finance, Cruzada, Inquisition) can be found in Ulloa, La hacienda real, 50–67. 7. Ulloa, La hacienda real, 59. 8. In addition to these, Williams (Philip II, 67) lists the Council of Navarre, 1525, which Parker does not. 9. See Braudel, The Mediterranean, 2:676, 677; Williams, Philip II, 4, 46–50; Lynch, Spain under the Habsburgs, 1:3.

216

NOTES TO PAGES 7–11

10. On the medieval background of the letrados, see Maravall, “La formación.” 11. See Haliczer, Comuneros, 108. 12. Quoted in Kamen, Philip of Spain, 177. 13. Koenigsberger, “The Politics of Philip II,” 185. Braudel also has a favorable evaluation: “Although much criticized, the Spanish Empire was equal or indeed superior to other leading states for transport, transfer, and communications” (The Mediterranean, 1:372). Braudel also has a benign view of the delays and slowness in Spanish imperial administration (1:374). 14. Elliot, Spain and Its World, 14. He goes on to quote the memorable comment of a viceroy: “If death comes from Madrid, we shall live to a very old age.” 15. On Philip’s preference for written communications, see Parker, Grand Strategy, 20. 16. On the awe that Philip inspired and the quasi-religious nature of court ceremonial, see Lynch, Spain under the Habsburgs, 1:185; Parker, Grand Strategy, 15–17. 17. Maltby, Alba, 49, 67. Kamen says that Philip’s administration was, like others of his time, “a jungle of bitter personal rivalries and open corruption” (Philip of Spain, 214). On Philip’s efforts to be independent of the aristocracy, see Williams, Philip II, 40. 18. Martínez Millán, “Un curioso manuscrito”; Parker, Grand Strategy, 57. The document was drawn up by Espinosa before his death and edited by Mateo Vázquez in 1573. 19. Martínez Millán, “Introducción,” 17–18. 20. Carlos Morales, “Grupos de poder,” 110. 21. Martínez Millán and Carlos Morales, “La administración de la gracia real,” 30–34; Martínez Millán, “Grupos de poder,” 140. 22. Martínez Millán and Carlos Morales, “La administración de la gracia real,” 33. On Gómez de Silva, see Boyden, The Courtier and the King. 23. On the ebolista struggle for the control of the Council of Finance, see Carlos Morales, “El poder de los secretarios reales, 130–33. 24. Boyden, The Courtier and the King, 50. 25. Ibid., 107. 26. Martínez Millán, “Grupos de poder,” 173. Boyden has an interesting and enlightening summary of the historiography of the Alba-Eboli conflict (The Courtier and the King, 91–97). 27. Eboli and Alba also had differing views on the role of the king. See Williams, Philip II, 35–36. 28. See Ulloa, La hacienda real, 764–66. 29. On this process, see Boyden, The Courtier and the King, 128–38. 30. Martínez Millán and Carlos Morales, “La administración de la gracia real,” 40; Boyden, The Courtier and the King, 129–30. 31. Maltby says that Espinosa was originally an ebolista, that his appointment to the Council of State around 1566 was a blow to Alba, and that he supported a

NOTES TO PAGES 11–15

217

policy of accommodation in the Netherlands (Alba, 75, 132). An opposing view is held by Carlos Morales (“Grupos de poder,” 135) and Martínez Millán (“Grupos de poder,” 181). 32. The idea of the imposed religious culture has been most thoroughly explained and defended by Martínez Millán, “Introducción,” 13–35. 33. Ibid., 33. 34. Martínez Millán and Carlos Morales also believe that after Espinosa’s death the nobles regained control of the government, with the exception of the Council of the Indies, and speak of Epinosa as the “last letrado” to hold top positions in the Council of Castile and the Inquisition (“La administración de la gracia real,” 42). This seems to ignore the continued dominance of Ovando and Vázquez de Leca. 35. A good study of ordinary religious practice as found in a somewhat limited sphere is Christian, Local Religion. 36. For further examples, see Kamen, The Spanish Inquisition, 255–57. 37. Kamen, Spain, 1469–1714, 177: Christian, Local Religion, 14. 38. An excellent study of the impact of the Council on Trent on a specific area of Spain is Nalle, God in La Mancha. 39. For an overview of the patronato, see Shiels, King and Church. 40. One thinks of Giuseppe Verdi’s opera Don Carlo or the novel and movie Captain from Castile. The nadir of this historical distortion is found in the musical, Man of La Mancha. 41. For an excellent brief summary of the early years of the Spanish Inquisition, see Lynch, Spain under the Habsburgs, 1:20–28. 42. For a brief description, see Roth, Conversos, 9, 10. 43. Valdeón Baruque, “Los orígenes de la Inquisición,” 39. 44. Sicroff, Los estatutos, 45–46; Roth, Conversos, 11, 115; Monsalvo Antón, Teoría y evolución, 259, 280. 45. Roth rejects the widely accepted idea that these disturbances led to conversions through fear; rather, he believes that almost all conversions at this time were the result of sincere conviction (Conversos, 34–35, 44, 133–34). Monsalvo Antón accepts the more traditional interpretation that many of the conversions were the result of fear and force (Teoría y evolución, 280), as does Netanyahu, Toward the Inquisition, 196. Domínguez Ortiz considered the disturbances true massacres that led to forced conversions (Los Judeoconversos, 15). 46. Sicroff, Los estatutos, 43, 47, 51; Roth, Conversos, 133–50. 47. Roth, Conversos, 114; Monsalvo Antón, Teoría y evolución, 282–86. 48. According to Rábade Obradó, most contemporaries of Fernando and Isabel believed that there was danger from the Jews and conversos. Even those who were sincere Christians were suspected of insincerity (Una élite de poder, 21). Roth, in contrast, says, “It must be understood once and for all: conversos were not ‘crypto-Jews’; they were Christians, who chose completely to separate themselves from the Jewish people, and not just from the Jewish ‘faith’” (Conversos, 320).

218

NOTES TO PAGES 15–17

49. Sicroff, Los estatutos, 51–56; Roth, Conversos, 88–92. The statute never received royal approval (Domínguez Ortiz, Los Judeoconversos, 81). 50. Gutiérrez Nieto, “La estructura castizo–estamental,” 524–25. 51. For general treatments of the concept, see Domínguez Ortiz, Los Judeoconversos; Sicroff, Los estatutos; Monsalvo Antón, Teoría y evolución; Kagan, Students and Society, 90–91; Kamen, Inquisition and Society; Bataillon, Erasmo y España; 699–700, n. 2; Rábade Obradó, Una élite de poder; Roth, Conversos; Valdeón Baruque, “Los orígenes de la Inquisición,” 35–45; Gutiérrez Nieto, “La estructura castizo–estamental”; Gutiérrez Nieto, “Los humanistas castellanos”; Dedieu, “¿Pecado original o pecado social?” 61–76; Dedieu, “Limpieza, pouvoir et richesse”; Caro Baroja, Los judíos en la España, 2:167–390. 52. Kamen believes that the statutes had fallen out of style by the mid-sixteenth century and were generally ignored (Philip of Spain, 33). On the contrary, the reign of Charles V (1516–1556) seems to have been characterized by a strong anti-converso feeling in Castile. 53. Domínguez Ortiz, La clase social, 62. 54. Ortiz, Los Judeoconversos, 94. 55. Sicroff, Los estatutos, 120. A history of the Seville statute can be found in Domínguez Ortiz, La clase social, 63–64. 56. Cited in Domínguez Ortiz, Los Judeoconversos, 96. 57. On the background and history of this statute, see Caro Baroja, Los judíos en la España, 2:276–80; Domínguez Ortiz, La clase social, 37–50; Hernández Franco, Cultura y limpieza, 27–30. On opposition to it, see Domínguez Ortiz, La clase social, 280–85. 58. Netanyahu, Origins of the Inquisition, 272–73. 59. This was many years after its foundation. The statute is quoted in full in Caro Baroja, Los judíos en la España, 2:271–72. The author calls it a “classic model” of such statutes. 60. This listing is taken from Kamen, “A Crisis of Conscience.” 61. Netanyahu states, “By the time Siliceo [sic] began his campaign, no converso served as bishop, archbishop, or cardinal” (Origins of the Inquisition, 1066). It might be more accurate to say “no known converso.” He adds, “[N]or, with rare exceptions, could conversos be found in high posts of the royal administrations, such as those of royal councillors, major judges, governors, or corregidores” (ibid.). Contrast this statement with Kamen’s: “In terms of career a converso could normally study at any university or occupy a chair, enter into any civil or commercial profession, serve in the armed forces, occupy posts in the central and in most municipal government, obtain a noble title, or enter the Church and rise to become bishop” (“A Crisis of Conscience,” VII. 4). An interesting example of the inconsistency of the limpieza de sangre statutes is found in the life of Hernando Ortiz de Hinojosa, ordained as a diocesan priest in 1568. He had a distinguished career as professor at the Royal and Pontifical University of Mexico, a canon of the cathedral chapter of Mexico, rector of the hospital

NOTES TO PAGES 17–19

219

of Santa Fe, and theological consultor to the Third Mexican Provincial Council of 1585. In 1592, however, when he sought a position with the Mexican Inquisition, it was discovered that his parents were conversos and that his grandmother had been punished by the Inquisition and his mother reconciled by it. His career seemed to be at a standstill, but in 1596, despite his ancestry, he was named bishop of Guatemala. He died in 1598 before taking possession of his post. See Ramírez González, Grupos de poder clerical, 46–41, 93–99. 62. For the position of the Inquisition, see Sicroff, Los estatutos, 118 n.101. According to Lea, in 1547 the Inquisition refused to hear complaints about Moriscos serving as familiares (History of the Inquisition, 2:294, 295). Kamen writes, “The Inquisition itself followed an ambiguous policy: although it always insisted on the inability of condemned persons and their descendants to hold office, it did not itself exclude conversos, condemned or otherwise, until as late as 1550, and only in 1572 did it draw up strict rules on entry to the Holy Office” (“A Crisis of Conscience,” 3). 63. Domínguez Ortiz, Los Judeoconversos, 99. For a history of these statutes in the various religious orders, see Sicroff, Los estatutos, 102–19. 64. Kamen, “A Crisis of Conscience,” 13. 65. For an excellent survey, see Kamen, “A Crisis of Conscience,” passim. 66. Kamen, Inquisition and Society, 120. On opposition to Silíceo’s statute, see Sicroff, Los estatutos, 134–38; Caro Baroja, Los judíos en la España, 2:280–85. 67. Kamen, Philip of Spain, 33–34. For a detailed analysis of how the statute came into being, see Jones, “Constantino Ponce de la Fuente,” 401–4. Domínguez Ortiz says simply that the statute did not receive royal approval (Los Judeoconversos, 81), but Kamen says that Philip approved it in August 1556 after he became king (The Spanish Inquisition, 238). Elsewhere Kamen calls Philip’s approval belated (“A Crisis of Conscience,” 4). 68. Kamen, Inquisition and Society, 120. 69. Dedieu, “¿Pecado original o pecado social?” 63; see also Roth, Conversos, 230. 70. Roth, Conversos, 314. 71. Monter, Frontiers of Heresy, 322. 72. Homza rejects any racial element in the Inquisition’s persecution of suspected Judaizers: “It is problematic to equate the inquisitors’ attention to conversos with racial anti-Semitism, because inquisitors focused on signs with religious import. . . . The inquisitors were acting out of anti-Judaism” (Religious Authority, 100–101). 73. Kamen also believes that the divide between new and old Christians was more political than racial. The tensions between the two groups “seem to have served only to benefit an elite that wished to protect its monopoly of power and influence” (“A Crisis of Conscience,” 2). 74. The laws of limpieza of the order of Santiago, 1480, mentioned “infamy” (Roth, Conversos, 231). The same concept lay behind the prohibition against

220

NOTES TO PAGES 19–24

ordaining Indians and castas to the priesthood in New Spain. See Poole, “Church Law on the Ordination of Indians and Castas.” 75. The demands of pure bloodlines are comparable to the requirements in some European monarchies that high positions in the military could be held only by those who were able to prove several generations of noble lineage. 76. Domínguez Ortiz, Los Judeoconversos, 59; Contreras Contreras, “Linajes y cambio social,” 118, 120. The latter quotes the famed comment of Saint Teresa of Avila that honors and riches always go together. 77. Though the converso descent of Antonio Pérez’s father has been disputed, most evidence seems to favor it. See Caro Baroja, Los judíos en la España, 2:18. 78. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, from Madrid, 30 April 1575, IVDJ, Madrid, envío 24, caja 37, f. 70. 79. Lovett, “The Inquisition under Close Scrutiny,” 709–10. 80. Keen, “Approaches to Las Casas,” 5, 6. 81. Friede, “Las Casas and Indigenism,” 196, 197. 82. Kamen, Philip of Spain, 33, 60–61. 83. Padden, “The Ordenanza del Patronazgo,” 345, note 26. CHAPTER 2 1. Lovett, Early Habsburg Spain, 249. 2. See LeFlem, “Cáceres, Plasencia y Trujillo,” 254–55; Altman, “Spanish Hidalgos,” 324. In 1557, the date of the first reliable survey, the city had 1,401 heads of households (vecinos). From this Lovett estimates 6,305 persons (Early Habsburg Spain, 249). 3. Altman, “Spanish Hidalgos,” 325. The latter is the best summary of the position of the provincial nobility in Cáceres as well as of the descent and activities of the Ovando family. 4. Orti Belmonte, La vida en Cáceres, 85–89. 5. Altman, “Spanish Hidalgos,” 324. On the Ovandos, see also Muñoz de San Pedro, El capitán Diego de Cáceres Ovando, 99–101; Lodo de Mayorgal, Viejos linajes, 180–81, 185; Orti Belmonte, Los Ovando. 6. For his biography, see Muñoz de San Pedro, El capitán Diego de Cáceres Ovando. 7. On Nicolás de Ovando, see Lamb, Frey Nicolás de Ovando. On the earlier history of the family, see 24–25, 30. 8. All of the following information is taken from the investigation into Juan de Ovando’s limpieza de sangre, January 1546, and is based on testimonies in AUS, unnumbered, Colegio de San Bartolomé: Expedientes de alumnos, 1546–1552: Juan de Ovando, ff. 34r–58r. The testimonies varied in details. The information given here has been collated from the points of agreement. 9. Lodo de Mayorgal, Viejos linajes, 180–81, gives the name of Francisco’s mother as Catalina de Godoy and says that there was another illegitimate son,

NOTES TO PAGES 24–25

221

Antonio, the progenitor of the Ovandos of Las Navas. This Antonio was actually the son of Francisco and elder brother of Juan de Ovando. The name of Catalina de Godoy, though found in some histories, is certainly incorrect. In his introduction to the Memorial de Ulloa, on the basis of a conversation with José de la Peña Cámara, Lodo de Mayorgal gives the name as Elena Sánchez. See Memorial de Ulloa, 18. 10. The author of the Memorial de Ulloa, 177v, tried to cover up the story of the illegitimacy by making Francisco the son of the captain. This fabrication was refuted by Muñoz de San Pedro, El capitán Diego de Cáceres Ovando, 99–101. Lockhart has pointed out, “Spaniards of the medieval and modern periods had a whole set of social practices concerning the innumerable illegitimate children their system produced. The fully recognized child would grow up in his father’s house and receive almost the same education as the legitimate heirs” (The Men of Cajamarca, 139). 11. According to law 12 of the Laws of Toro, a bastard, even if legitimated, could not inherit if there was subsequent legitimate offspring. See Llamas y Molina, Comentario, 1:153–54. It is interesting that Juan de Ovando did not use his grandfather’s arms, which were primarily of a military nature. His arms, insofar as they can be discerned from sculpture on his tomb and the few surviving seals, contained two bears and a sword. 12. Her name is sometimes given as Juana de Aguirre or Leonor García de Aguirre. See Martínez Quesada, “Documentación,” 140; and Altman, “Spanish Hidalgos,” 345. In his will Juan de Ovando founded a chaplaincy that became a bone of contention among his relatives for a number of years. In 1635, in one of the lawsuits over it, Antonio de Solís claimed that Leonor García de Aguirre, Juan’s mother, was the daughter of Juana García de Aguirre, the elder, who was herself the daughter of Jerónimo García Pulido and Juana García. The papers of this lawsuit are in the archive of the Casa del Sol, the residence of the Precious Blood Fathers in Cáceres, and were made available to me by Father Evelio Tábara Delgado. It has also been asserted that Francisco de Ovando was made a Comendador de Belvís of the military order of Alcántara (which was very prestigious in western Extremadura). See Martínez Quesada, “Documentación,” 140; and Lodo de Mayorgal, Viejos linajes, 185. However, in his edition of the Memorial de Ulloa, 18, Lodo de Mayorgal points out that this was due to confusion between two different Francisco de Ovandos. There is no evidence that Juan de Ovando’s father was given such an honor, and it seems improbable for a poor farmer. 13. IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 103. Díaz y Pérez says that he was born in Mérida (Diccionario), 2:187. This may result from confusion with Juan’s older brother, Antonio, who lived in Mérida toward the end of his life. 14. AUS, San Bartolomé, f. 41v. 15. AUS, San Bartolomé, ff. 41r–v. A land owning farmer or peasant (labrador) could sometimes be rather well off. See Domínguez Ortiz, The Golden Age of Spain, 149. 16. On 11 February 1574 Ovando wrote to Mateo Vázquez de Leca, Philip II’s secretary, that he was sorry to hear of the death of the marqués del Adrada, whose

222

NOTES TO PAGES 25–26

servant he had once been. IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 72. The marqués was principal majordomo to Philip II’s fourth wife, Anna of Austria (Cabrera de Córdoba, Historia de Felipe II, 2:122). Nothing more is known about this. 17. The dates for this and his acceptance can be found in an interesting though sketchy report on Spanish universities and their graduates that was commissioned by Cardinal Diego de Espinosa at an unknown date. It is to be found in IVDJ, envío, caja 127, unfoliated. On the history of San Bartolomé, see Carabias Torres, Colegios mayores, 2:392–421. 18. AUS, Colegio de San Bartolomé: expedientes de alumnos, 1546–52, f. 44r. For a treatment of the infractions of the statute on poverty, see Carabias Torres, Colegios mayores, 2:497–508. Bell comments that the statutes on poverty were not always observed, “and more attention came to be paid to the purity of a scholar’s descent than to his poverty” (Luis de León, 69). See also Roxas y Contreras, Historia, chap. 1, par. 23. 19. All the colegios mayores at Salamanca required a bachelor’s degree as a prerequisite for admittance. See Carabias Torres, Colegios mayores, 2:491. 20. Orti Belmonte, La vida en Cáceres, 73. As mentioned in note 11 above, Sancho de Paredes declared that there was a Juan de Ovando at Salamanca in 1546. Another witness, García de Paredes Perera, declared that Juan was a student at Salamanca. The Libro de matrículas of the university for 1546–47 (AUS 267) contains 8,053 names, among which I was unable to find a single Ovando. Still, it seems likely that he pursued his courses in artes at Salamanca. 21. Espinosa report, IVDJ, envío 90, caja 127. It is interesting that it is the only entry that does not give any information on the family background of the individual named. 22. For a detailed description of life at Salamanca, see Bell, Luis de León, 60–84. 23. Lascaris Comneno-Bescansa Aler, Colegios mayores, xiv. 24. Kagan, Students and Society, 65. 25. Lascaris Comneno, Colegios mayores, xiv; Carabias Torres, Colegios mayores, 2:631. 26. The basic source of information on Anaya and the early years of San Bartolomé is Ruiz de Vergara y Alava, Vida. See also Carabias Torres, Colegios mayores, 2:392–400, 405. 27. The original Latin of the statutes says “1500 moropetinorum.” Twelve maravedís was the figure given for 1536 by Martín Hernández, La formación clerical, 92, apparently a typographical error. The original figure increased markedly over the years until it reached 12,000 in Ovando’s day. 28. Roxas y Contreras, Historia, chap. 1, par. 47. 29. Carabias Torres, Colegios mayores, 2:514–15. 30. This was in statute 14. Carabias Torres speculates that these words were interpolated into the papal bull of approval of the colegio (Colegios mayores, 2:512–13), a conclusion also reached by Netanyahu, who compared the printed version of the bulls with the originals in the Vatican Archives (Netanyahu, Origins, 1103–5).

NOTES TO PAGES 26–29

223

31. For a fascinating discussion of the question, see Sicroff, Los estatutos, 117 n.101. See also Netanyahu, Origins, 272–73; Révah, “La controverse,” 263–306. Anaya’s statute was renewed and strengthened on 15 July 1507, adding Moriscos to the forbidden category. 32. Without citing a source or elaboration, Bell says that between 1480 and 1600 San Bartolomé produced three cardinals, sixty-six bishops and archbishops, two viceroys, one grand inquisitor [sic], and five prime professors of canon law (Luis de León, 70). 33. On this spirit of “caste,” see Carabias Torres, Colegios mayores, 2: 863–83. 34. Roxas y Contreras, Historia, chap. 1, par. 23, 28; Carabias Torres, Colegios mayores, 2:405, 486. 35. Carabias Torres, Colegio mayores, says that the cloak was black but adds that little is known about the dress of the bartolomicos. Bell says that it was a brown cassock or gown with a brown stole (Luis de León, 70). This would have been very similar to the dress of the rest of the students at Salamanca. 36. Carabias Torres says that mutton and veal were the only meats served, and she also analyzes the nutritional value of the meals (Colegios mayores, 2:804, 806–9). 37. Roxas y Contreras, Historia, chap. 1, pars. 22, 29, 35, 70. 38. AUS, Libros de Matrículas, libro 268 (1551–52), f. 15r; 269 (1552–53), f. 10r; 271 (1554–55), f. 10r; 272 (1555–56) f. 8v. In libro 270 (1553–54), f. 11v, Ovando is listed as a legista but not licenciado. There is a four-year gap in these records. In 1551 there were seventeen colegiales and seven familiares at San Bartolomé. 39. In AUS, Libros de matrículas, the word p[resbíter]o was placed behind the names of priests. 40. AUS, libros de matrículas, libros 268 (1551–52), f. 45v; 269 (1552–53), f. 41r; 270 (1553–54), f. 44v. 41. Espinosa report, IVDJ, envío 90, caja 127. CHAPTER 3 1. Morales Padrón, “La Ciudad del Quinientos,” 135. Chanu, Seville et l’Atlantique, is a monumental study of Seville and the Atlantic trade in the sixteenth and first half of the seventeenth century. Earlier but still valuable accounts are Ortiz de Zúñiga, Anales; and Morgado, Historia de Sevilla. See also Ruth Pike, “Seville in the Sixteenth Century.” 2. Morales Padrón, “La Ciudad del Quinientos,” 79–82. 3. Kamen, Spain, 98. For differing figures, see Morales Padrón, “La Ciudad del Quinientos,” 65; Aspe Ansa, Constantino Ponce de la Fuente, 54; Pike, “Seville in the Sixteenth Century,” 2; Elliot, Spain and Its World, 18. Despite the differences, the estimates are in substantial agreement, especially regarding the explosive population growth. 4. Ortiz de Zúñiga, Anales, bk. 15:518–23.

224

NOTES TO PAGES 29–34

5. Pike, “Seville in the Sixteenth Century,” 16–17, 24–25. 6. Aspe Ansa, Constantino Ponce de la Fuente, 58; Pike, “Seville in the Sixteenth Century,” 18. 7. On Fernández de Santaella, see Hazañas y la Rúa, Maese Rodrigo. 8. Morales Padrón, “La Ciudad del Quinientos,” 26. 9. González Novalín, Valdés, 168–69; Morales Padrón, “La Ciudad del Quinientos,” 92–95. 10. González Novalín, Valdés, 169. 11. Ibid., 170. 12. Morales Padrón, “La Ciudad del Quinientos,” 250. 13. González Novalín, Valdés, 169; Aspe Ansa, Constantino Ponce de la Fuente, 52–53. 14. González Novalín, Valdés, 185–87. 15. Ibid., 257. 16. The literature on Valdés, his career, and his fall is abundant. See González Novalín, “El Inquisidor general don Fernando de Valdés,” in Historia de la Inquisición, 538–56; González Novalín, “Reforma de las leyes”; Martínez Millán, “Grupos de poder,” 137–97; Pizarro Llorente, “Las relaciones de patronazgo,” 226–39. 17. González Novalín, Valdés, 224–28, enumerates instances of this. 18. González Novalín, Valdés, 173–77, tries to show that Valdés was a reformer. 19. Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 702; Kamen, Philip of Spain, 73, 80. 20. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, ff. 28r–30r. The appointment was given at Salamanca and signed by Valdés and his secretary, Fortuno de Ibargüen. González Novalín states, incorrectly, that Ovando was president of the Council of the Indies at the same time (Valdés, 167). Valdés’s correspondence with Ovando on the day-to-day administration of the archdiocese of Seville can be found in IVDJ, envío 91, caja 130. 21. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, f. 28r. 22. Ibid., f. 29r. 23. Ibid., libro 19, f. 85. 24. These two letters have not been found. They are mentioned in a letter from Philip II to Valdés, 27 July 1556, AGS, Secretería de Estado, leg. 114, f. 165, which quotes the letter from Charles V. See González Novalín, Valdés, 190. They are also mentioned in Valdés’s response of 22 August 1556, AGS, Patronato Real, leg. 28, f. 58. The letter of Charles V was dated 2 November 1555. The date of Philip’s letter, which was sent from La Coruña, is not known. 25. There is an undated copy of this letter in AGS, Secretería de Estado, leg. 114, f. 165. 26. On this, see Boyden, The Courtier and the King, 72–75. 27. Williams, Philip II, 36. 28. Kamen, Philip of Spain, 73. The source is letters and memorials to the king in AGS, Secretería de Estado, leg. 129, ff. 110–12, 128.

NOTES TO PAGES 35–36

225

29. Lea, History of the Inquisition, 2:305; Suprema to the Inquisition of Seville, 19 February 1562, AHN, Inquisición, libro 575, f. 126. González had been sent either to make a visitation of the Inquisition of Seville or as local inquisitor to put it in order. His first letter from Seville is dated 23 December 1558. See AHN, Inquisición, libro 2942, núm. 52. He made a number of enemies. Part of his commission was to inspect the Inquisition’s jails, about which he gave a negative report. See Suprema to Inquisition of Seville, from Valladolid, 11 July 1559, AHN, Inquisición, libro 575, f. 81r and v. González presided at the auto de fe of 24 September 1559. AGI, Secretería de Estado, leg. 137, f. 2. 30. On 11 January 1563 Ovando asked the cathedral chapter for payment for the time missed from choir while he was occupied with business in the castle of Triana. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 24, f. 121r. 31. On Egidio, see Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 524–27. 32. Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 526; González Novalín, Valdés, 183. AHN, Inquisición, 2942, núm. 78, contains extracts of the process against Egidio, drawn up on 11 September 1559. 33. González Novalín, Valdés, 183, 188. 34. Reginaldus Gonsalvius Montanus [Reinaldo González de Montes], Sanctae inquisitionis hispanicae artes aliquot detectae (Spanish trans., Artes de la Inquisición española); Marcelino Menéndez y Pelayo, Historia de los heterodoxos. Both are tendentious and at times unreliable. On the Montes book, see Castrillo Benito, El “Reginaldo Montano”; he deals with Constantino on 72–77. Reginaldus Montanus appears to have been a pseudonym for two Spanish reformers, a certain licenciado Zarpa and Cassiodoro de Reina, a former Hieronymite living in Geneva. See Pérez Villanueva, “La historiografía de la Inquisición española,” 8. Other references are Boehmer, Bibliotheca Wiffeniana, 2:3–40; Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 529–45; Aspe Ansa, Constantino Ponce de la Fuente; Ponce de la Fuente and Gracián de la Madre de Dios, Beatus Vir, 52–59. The papers on the case can be found in ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, ff. 28r–76v. For another view regarding the identity of Gonsalvius Montanus, see Jones, “Constantino Ponce de la Fuente,” 9–11. 35. Menéndez y Pelayo, Historia de los heterodoxos, 5:81–103, appendix 2:6–11. González Novalín bases his entire account on that of Menéndez y Pelayo. See González Novalín, Valdés, 196–200. 36. A special problem is encountered with the documentary appendix (appendix 2 in the edition used for this work). The transcriptions contain inaccuracies, but more irritating for the researcher is the author’s habit of not separating his own explanatory comments from the quotations from the documents. For a brief summary of Menéndez y Pelayo’s historical method and his attitude toward heresy, see Jones, “Constantino Ponce de la Fuente,” 26–33. 37. Bataillon, Erasmo y España, esp. 522–40. 38. Aspe Ansa, Constantino Ponce de la Fuente, 23–24. Many details and quotations from documents that are not otherwise known are given by Benítez de Lugo, “Constantino Ponce.” Unfortunately, he gives no sources, so the citations are unreliable.

226

NOTES TO PAGES 36–38

39. A thorough and balanced treatment of Constantino and his teachings is Jones, “Constantino Ponce de la Fuente.” 40. Aspe Ansa estimates that the year was about 1502 (Constantino Ponce de la Fuente, 31). 41. A letter of the Supreme Council of the Inquisition to the Inquisition of Seville, from Valladolid, 13 January 1559, speaks of a genealogy that Constantino submitted (AHN, Inquisición, libro 565, f. 72v). Unfortunately, it has not been found. 42. ASCM, Actas capitulares, libro 23, f. 56r. 43. Menéndez y Pelayo, Historia de los heterodoxos, 5:appendix 2:6. Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 527. 44. Ortiz de Zúñiga, Anales, bk. 3:374; Maltby, Alba, 42. Both Aspe Ansa (Constantino Ponce de la Fuente, 65) and Ortiz de Zúñiga mistakenly give the date as 1534. 45. Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 528; Aspe Ansa, Constantino Ponce de la Fuente, 12; Kamen, Philip of Spain, 43. 46. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, f. 55r. 47. The minutes of the cathedral chapter of Seville, 12 May 1556, say that the offer was the canongía magistral of Seville (esta prebenda) without any competitors. See ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, f. 55; Menéndez y Pelayo, Historia de los heterodoxos, 5:appendix 2:13. González de Montes (Artes, 303) says that it was in Toledo, as does Bataillon (Erasmo y España, 523). Boehmer says that Constantino also refused a canonry in his home diocese of Cuenca (Bibliotheca Wiffeniana, 2:10). For a detailed analysis of this incident see Jones, “Constantino Ponce de la Fuente,” 404–5. 48. González de Montes, Artes, 309. 49. Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 523. Only Boehmer says that Constantino was not talking about his Jewish lineage (Bibliotheca Wiffeniana, 2:10). In 1557 the Suprema received a denunciation from a friar in Seville, dated 22 January, that accused Constantino of being a confeso (AHN, Inquisición, libro 575, f. 57v). On the question of his ancestry, see Jones, “Constantino Ponce de la Fuente,” 405–11, 413. 50. Exposición del primer psalmo de David cuyo principio es Beatus vir, dividido en seys sermones (Seville, 1546). For a modern translation and analysis, see Ponce de la Fuente and Gracián de la Madre de Dios, Beatus Vir. For another analysis, see Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 530–34. 51. Suma de doctrina christiana en que se contiene todo lo principal y necessario que el hombre christiano deue saber y obrar (Seville, 1543); Confessión de un pecador penitente, seguida de dos meditaciones de Fr. Luis de Granada (Evora, 1554). For a description and analysis of these works, see Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 534–40. The third work, Catechismo christiano para instruir a los niños, was published at Seville in 1546 and 1556. 52. According to González de Montes, Artes, 306. 53. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, ff. 38v–39r. 54. Ibid., f. 40r; Menéndez y Pelayo, Historia de los heterodoxos, 5:appendix 2:6–7. This is one of the instances in which Menéndez y Pelayo paraphrases rather than transcribes the document. He mistakenly gives Ovando’s first name as Francisco (94).

NOTES TO PAGES 38–40

227

55. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, f. 40r; Menéndez y Pelayo, Historia de los heterodoxos, 5:appendix 5:7. Although this entire transcription by Menéndez y Pelayo is enclosed in quotation marks, it is actually part quotation and part paraphrase. 56. Next to it someone wrote Vala esto (let this be enough, or no need to go further). ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, f. 41v. See Menéndez y Pelayo, Historia de los heterodoxos, 5:appendix 2:7, where again quotation and paraphrase are mingled. 57. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, f. 42v; Menéndez y Pelayo, Historia de los heterodoxos, 5:appendix 2:7. He paraphrases this section, mistakenly saying that it was all the canons in major orders who approved the credentials. 58. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, ff. 48v–49v; Menéndez y Pelayo, Historia de los heterodoxos, 5:appendix 2:7–8. 59. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, ff. 50v–51r; Menéndez y Pelayo, Historia de los heterodoxos, 5:appendix 2:8–9. This transcription is unusually faithful to the source. 60. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, f. 51v. The minutes for this meeting go from f. 51r to f. 52v. They have been transcribed almost in full by Menéndez y Pelayo, Historia de los heterodoxos, 5:appendix 2:9–11, but with a number of errors. 61. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, f. 51v; Menéndez y Pelayo, Historia de los heterodoxos, 5:appendix 2:10. 62. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, f. 51v; Menéndez y Pelayo, Historia de los heterodoxos, 5:appendix 2:10. 63. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, f. 52r; Menéndez y Pelayo, Historia de los heterodoxos, 5:appendix 2:10. 64. González de Montes appears to have accepted the truth of this accusation, although the Inquisition of Seville later had difficulty proving it (Artes, 317). 65. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, f. 52v; Menéndez y Pelayo, Historia de los heterodoxos, 5:appendix 2:11. 66. The minutes for this meeting cover ff. 53r to 57v of ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23; Menéndez y Pelayo, Historia de los heterodoxos, 5:appendix 2:12–17. Unfortunately, his transcription is garbled and confusing. The following account is based on the originals. 67. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, f. 54r. Aspe Ansa deals with this in Constantino Ponce de la Fuente, 80–85, but there seems to have been an editorial error in these pages. All the citations of the Inquisition section of the AHN are incorrect. 68. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, f. 55r. 69. Ibid., f. 54v. 70. Ibid., f. 55v–56r; Menéndez y Pelayo, Historia de los heterodoxos, 5:appendix 2:14. 71. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, f. 56r; Menéndez y Pelayo, Historia de los heterodoxos, 5:appendix 2:14. 72. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, f. 56r.

228

NOTES TO PAGES 40–42

73. Ibid., f. 56v. 74. Ibid., ff. 56v–57r. The minutes say that there was no contradiction by anyone present. 75. Ibid., f. 57v. 76. Ibid., f. 60v–61r; Menéndez y Pelayo, Historia de los heterodoxos, 5:appendix 2:18–19. 77. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, f. 61r; Menéndez y Pelayo, Historia de los heterodoxos, 5:appendix 2:19. Lombard’s Sentences were the standard medieval text in theology. 78. On Carpio, see Espinosa Maeso, “Don Miguel de Carpio; Márquez, Literatura e Inquisición, 128–31. 79. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, ff. 133v–34r; Menéndez y Pelayo, Historia de los heterodoxos, 5:appendix 2:21. 80. The inquisitorial process against Constantino has never been found. Much of what follows is based on the copies of letters sent by the Suprema to the Inquisition of Seville. These are in AHN, Inquisición, primarily in libro 575. 81. Cited in Aspe Ansa, Constantino Ponce de la Fuente, 79; AHN, Inquisición, libro 575, f. 36v; Suprema to Inquisition of Seville, from Valladolid, 22 January 1557, AHN, Inquisición, libro 575, f. 57v. 82. Jones, “Constantino Ponce de la Fuente,” 444. 83. It is also given by Llorente (A Social History, 220), but it is possible that he got it from González de Montes. The date is given by Diego Suárez to Diego Laínez, one of the first members of the Society of Jesus, in a letter published by Sala Balust, Obras completas del Santo Maestro Juan de Avila, 1:198 n.34. It is also the date given by Jones, “Constantino Ponce de la Fuente,” 477. 84. AHN, Inquisición, libro 565, f. 91v, contains a letter from the Suprema, from Toledo, 15 January 1560, which is in deteriorated condition and difficult to read. It seems to indicate that Constantino’s case was still under judgment. It is the only reference to him by the Suprema between 9 November 1559 and 20 February 1560. ASCM, Libro de entradas, f. 44v, says that Constantino died in late 1559, but it is doubtful that the secretary of the chapter had access to precise information on the matter. 85. Suprema to the Inquisition of Seville, from Toledo, 20 February 1560, AHN, Inquisición, libro 565, f. 95v. This letter contains the first mention of Juan González de Munébrega, bishop of Tarazona, in reference to the case. 86. For the differing stories on Constantino’s supposed suicide, see Menéndez y Pelayo, Historia de los heterodoxos, 5:101, n. 2; Cabrera de Córdoba, Historia de Felipe II, 1:276; Ortiz de Zúñiga, Anales, 15:522; Aspe Ansa, Constantino Ponce de la Fuente, 11–12. Valera called those who propagated the story “sons of deceit.” The accusation of bigamy, a crime that was popularly associated with Judaizers, came later. See Kamen, Inquisition and Society, 198. The first evidence of it is found in a draft letter of Ovando to Philip II in 1573 in IVDJ, envío 76, caja 102, ff. 458r–460v. Jones (“Constantino Ponce de la Fuente,” 100) quotes a letter from the Inquisition headquarters

NOTES TO PAGES 42–45

229

in Valladolid, 19 May 1558: “Enclosed we send the investigations which the inquisitors of Granada have conducted over the marriages of Dr. Constantino.” Since there is no other reference to plural marriages until 1573, this passage should perhaps not be taken too literally. 87. Ortiz de Zúñiga, Anales, 15:522, says that they were encased in the effigy. González de Montes’s account is less clear on the point (Artes, 324–25, 329). The account of the auto by the Suprema simply says that the statue and bones were relaxed to the secular arm (AHN, Inquisición, 2075, no. 4). 88. Ortiz de Zúñiga, Anales, 15:522. 89. Kamen, Philip of Spain, 73, 80; Dedieu, L’Administration de la foi, 289. 90. Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 699. See also Kamen, Inquisition and Society, chap. 5. 91. Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 708–9. 92. Kinder believes that Constantino’s teachings presented “a remarkable affinity” to those of Luther (Casiodoro de Reina, 8). Kinder’s treatment of Constantino is very brief and relies too much on González de Montes. 93. Aspe Ansa, Constantino Ponce de la Fuente, 73, 79–80. 94. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, 2 September 1556, libro 23, ff. 85v–86v; libro 24, f. 58v. 95. IVDJ, envío 76, caja 102, ff. 458r–460v. 96. Ibid., f. 458v. 97. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, ff. 88r–v, 89r–91v, 97v; libro 24, ff. 24r–v; libro 23, f. 98r, 99r. 98. Ibid., libro 23, f. 100v. 99. Ibid., libro 26, ff. 22r–23v. 100. Ibid., libro 23, f. 67r. 101. Ibid., f. 69v. There is a reference to this case in a letter of Valdés to Ovando, from Valladolid, 12 November 1556, IVDJ, envío 91, caja 130, f. 208. 102. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, ff. 105r–v. 103. Ibid., libro 26, f. 193v. 104. Meeting of 6 October 1564 and meeting of 16 October 1564, ASCM, libro 27, ff. 99v, 104r. 105. Minutes of the meeting of 21 October 1556, ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, f. 100v. 106. Ibid., f. 102r; Valdés to Ovando, from Valladolid, 12 November 1556, IVDJ, envío 91, caja 130, f. 208. 107. Valdés to Ovando, from Valladolid, 12 November 1556, IVDJ, envío 91, caja 130, f. 208. 108. According to ASCM, Libro de Entradas, ff. 59, 80, Ibargüen became a medio racionero in April 1560 and racionero on 31 December 1560. According to the capitular minutes, however, Ovando intervened on behalf of Ibargüen’s candidacy for medio racionero on 30 December 1560, ASCM, libro 25, f. 98v. Valdés’s letter of appointment for Ibargüen is found on ff. 99r–101v.

230

NOTES TO PAGES 46–48

109. Meeting of 9 June 1563, ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 26, ff. 177v–178v; Libro de Entradas, f. 47. 110. Valdés to Ovando, from Madrid, 20 December 1563, IVDJ, envío 91, caja 130, f. 234. 111. ASCM, Libro de Entradas, f. 26v. No day is given for the appointment or conferral. Lovett says incorrectly that Ovando was already a canon when he became provisor of Seville (Philip II and Mateo Vázquez de Leca, 12). Another source says that he received the appointment in 1560 (Delgado, El colegio de San Bartolomé de Salamanca, 103). 112. The Libro de Entradas does not contain such information. 113. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 26, ff. 80, 210v. 114. See González Novalín, Valdés, 231. 115. Vázquez de Leca to Espinosa, from Alcalá de Henares, 11 September 1565, IVDJ, envío 57, caja 70, no foliation. The genealogical chart drawn up by Altman shows Doctor Nicolás de Ovando as Juan de Ovando’s first cousin, once removed (“Spanish Hidalgos,” 345). Neither of her charts mentioned a fray Diego de Ovando. In the 1580s a fray Juan de Ovando was guardian (superior) of a Franciscan convent at San Juan de los Reyes, near Toledo. See Kagan, Lucrecia’s Dreams, 156–57. 116. See Lovett, Philip II and Mateo Vázquez de Leca, 14. 117. ASCM, Libro de Entradas, sesión secretum, 382, f. 26v. 118. Vázquez de Leca to Espinosa, from Alcalá de Henares, 9 August 1565, IVDJ, envío 57, caja 70, unfoliated. In later life Vázquez de Leca had a relative named Juan Vázquez Aldrete, who was most probably related to the canon (Cabrera de Córdoba, Historia de Felipe II, 3:346). 119. The converso descent is accepted by Roth (Conversos, 157) but is discounted by Rekers (Benito Arias Montano, 3 n. 3). Information on Arias Montano can also be found in Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 721–23, 738–49, 771–72; and; Morales Oliver, Arias Montano. 120. Cabrera de Córdoba indicates that the accusations came after Arias Montano’s death (Historia de Felipe II, 2:174), but they were actually made during his lifetime. See Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 742. 121. Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 739–40. 122. Morales Oliver, Arias Montano, 47. For an analysis of Arias Montano’s thought, see Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 740–49. 123. It can be found in IVDJ, envío 78, caja 103. The foliation of this caja is erratic. Most of the letters have been transcribed and published by Jiménez de la Espada, “Correspondencia del Doctor Benito Arias Montano.” These are transcriptions of the documents in the IVDJ, but they are not complete. Jiménez de la Espada has summarized parts of them and has omitted one letter of 28 November 1570 (f. 11). 124. The story of Vázquez de Leca can be found in Poole, “The Politics of Limpieza de Sangre.” The date of birth is based on a document, drawn up in

NOTES TO PAGES 48–52

231

1564, in which he declared that he was twenty–nine years old. On the basis of the same document, Lovett gives 1544 as the year of his birth (“A Cardinal’s Papers,” 242). 125. His official genealogy can be found in IVDJ, envío 77, caja 102, f. 610r. 126. Hazañas y la Rúa, Mateo Vázquez de Leca, 4. This is a biography of the secretary’s nephew, not the secretary himself. The nephew used the name Mateo Vázquez de Leca Luchiano. 127. Ibid., 4; Lovett, Philip II and Mateo Vázquez de Leca, 11. 128. The persons mentioned in the will were Pedro de Alderete (his nephew), Isabel Pérez (housekeeper), María (black servant), Gaspar (a black slave, who was a good Christian and married and who was freed by the will), Rodrigo Vázquez de Alderete, and other, unnamed servants. IVDJ, envío 54, caja 71, tomo 4, ff. 365r–366v. 129. IVDJ, envío 54, caja 70, f. 352r. 130. Ibid., caja 71, f. 353r. The omitted words are lost in the binding. 131. Ibid., f. 353v. This document makes Mateo two years younger than others do. 132. Marañón (Antonio Pérez, 2:910) reproduces a letter from a Jesuit named Rengifo to Mateo Vázquez, 7 July 1582, in which he said that the secretary has been raised by the Jesuits from his youth. There is no evidence, however, that Vázquez de Leca ever attended a university. At no point in his life are any academic titles attached to his name. In all probability his murky origins and the impossibility of establishing his limpieza de sangre had something to do with this. 133. Testimony given in July 1561, IVDJ, envío 77, caja 102, f. 608r. 134. IVDJ, envío 54, caja 71, tomo 4, f. 367r. 135. Ibid., f. 370r. 136. Lovett, Philip II and Mateo Vázquez de Leca, 6. 137. Juan Antonio Escudero is the only author who speculates that Mateo Vázquez was the canon’s illegitimate son (Los secretarios de estado, 1:188). 138. Isabel de Luchiano to Mateo Vázquez de Leca, from Seville, undated, IVDJ, envío 54, caja 70, tomo 2, ff. 734–77. 139. Marañón repeated a rumor that circulated in Madrid that Mateo Vázquez was the illegitimate son of an unknown father via a casual affair (padre ocasional) (Antonio Pérez, 1:376). He also stated that in his will Vázquez de Alderete provided for Mateo and his sister “with suspicious tenderness” (ibid.). However, the sister was not mentioned in the will. 140. Lovett, Philip II and Mateo Vázquez de Leca, 12. 141. Ovando to Vázquez, from Alcalá de Henares, 21 October 1565, IVDJ, envío 57, caja 70, no foliation. 142. Ovando to Vázquez, from Alcalá de Henares, 21 October 1565, IVDJ, envío 57, caja 70, f. 9, quoted in Lovett, Philip II and Mateo Vázquez de Leca, 14. 143. Ovando to Espinosa, from Alcalá de Henares, 11 August and 27 September 1565, IVDJ, envío 57, caja 70, no foliation.

232

NOTES TO PAGES 52–56

144. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, from Alcalá de Henares, 28 September 1565, IVDJ, envío 57, caja 70, no foliation. Ovando’s gift was a sotana, which can also mean a cassock, but since he indicates that it was to be worn over Vázquez de Leca’s clothes, it probably refers to a gown or cloak. 145. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, from Seville, 15 January 1566, IVDJ, envío 57, caja 70, no foliation. Ovando literally told him to “sew up his mouth.” 146. Cabrera de Córdoba, Historia de Felipe II, 2:449. Escudero speaks of this period as the “zenith of private secretaries” (Los secretarios de estado, 1:187). 147. She called him this in a fiery letter of denunciation to Philip II (Marañón, Antonio Pérez, 1:376); Kamen, Philip of Spain, 148, describes Vázquez de Leca as “swarthy, plump, and balding,” a description that may be based on a medal issued during his lifetime. 148. Lynch, Spain under the Habsburgs, 1:188; Marañón, Antonio Pérez, 1:376, 377, 378, 379. 149. Valdés to Ovando, from Valladolid, 10 April 1559, IVDJ, envío 91, caja 130, f. 213. 150. Valdés to Philip II, from Valladolid, 16 May 1559, AGS, Secretería de Estado, leg. 137, f. 12. 151. IVDJ, envío 91, caja 130, f. 329. 152. Valdés to Ovando, from Madrid, 11 May 1564, ibid., f. 240. 153. Valdés to Ovando, from Madrid, 8 June 1564, ibid., f. 242. 154. Ibargüen to Ovando, from Madrid, 11 May 1564, ibid., f. 247. 155. Ibargüen to Ovando, from Madrid, 12 July 1564, ibid., f. 280. 156. This was also the date Ovando gave for the opening of his visitation of the University of Alcalá de Heneres in a deathbed report to Philip II, 2 September 1575, Madrid, IVDJ, envío 91, caja 43, f. 1. 157. Ibargüen to Ovando, from Madrid, 20 August 1564, ibid., caja 130, f. 283. 158. Ibargüen to Ovando, from Madrid, 19 December 1564, ibid., f. 284. 159. Ibargüen to Ovando, from Madrid, 13 April 1565, ibid., f. 285. 160. The latter letter from Ibargüen is dated 25 July 1565, ibid., f. 288. CHAPTER 4 1. There is no comprehensive biography in English of Cisneros, as he is commonly called. The most recent, Rummel, Jiménez de Cisernos, though brief, is a good introduction. Of works in Spanish, Conde de Cedillo, El Cardenal Cisneros, and García Oro, El Cardenal Cisneros, deal mostly with Cisneros’s political activities. An early biography, translated and annotated, is Gómez de Castro, De las hazañas de Francisco Jiménez de Cisneros. Another early biography is reproduced in Nelson and Wiess, “An Early Life.” A popular treatment but one that is sound and shows the contradictions in Cisneros’s life is Fernández-Armesto, “Humanist, Inquisitor, Mystic.” This chapter is based on Poole, “Juan de Ovando’s Reform of the University of Alcalá de Henares.”

NOTES TO PAGES 56–59

233

2. Rummel thinks that the story of the imprisonment may have been exaggerated (Jiménez de Cisneros, 13). 3. On his first regency, see Rummel, Jiménez de Cisernos, 73–76. 4. Kamen, Spain, 48. See also his Inquisition and Society, 54, 168. 5. Kamen, Spain, 46–47; Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 5. The Observants originated in the fourteenth century as a reform movement seeking to restore observance of the primitive Franciscan rule. The Conventuals, who had accepted papal modifications of the rule, viewed the Observants as divisive. The two groups were definitively separated by the papacy in 1517. 6. Lovett, Early Habsburg Spain, 28–29. Haliczer describes Cisneros’s second regency as “disastrous,” in part because the cardinal’s freedom of action was severely limited (The Comuneros of Castile, 129). For a differing interpretation, see Rummel, Jiménez de Cisernos, 79–103. 7. Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 10–11 8. Kamen, Spain, 111. Erasmus is supposed to have replied “non placet Hispania.” 9. Information on the University of Alcalá de Henares can be found in Bataillon, Erasmo y España, passim, but especially 10–20; Kagan, Students and Society, passim; Lascaris Comneno, Colegios mayores; Beltrán de Heredia, “La teología”; Martín Hernández, La formación clerical; Urriza, La preclara facultad; González Navarro, Universidad Complutense; Rummel, Jiménez de Cisneros, 53–57. 10. Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 11. 11. Ibid., 14. 12. Lascaris Comneno, Colegios mayores, xviii. Urriza, La preclara facultad, 22, says that the first school year was 1509–10. 13. On this, see Escandell Bonet, “La regulación cisneriana,” 104. He calls these novedades, or innovations. It caused some consternation at other Spanish universities. See also Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 16–18. 14. Beltrán de Heredia, “La teología,” 16; Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 13. 15. A good general description of the organizational system of the colegio and university can be found in Gil García, “La Universidad de Alcalá de Henares,” 16–17, 20. A rather complex diagram can be found in González Navarro, “La universidad de Alcalá de Henares,” 1:26. 16. Kagan, Students and Society, 69. 17. Lascaris Comneno, Colegios mayores, xx. 18. González Navarro, Universidad Complutense, 84–85. For a description of the office of rector, see also his “La universidad de Alcalá de Henares,” 1:30–31. 19. Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 12. For a description of his office, see González Navarro, “La universidad de Alcalá de Henares,” 1:32–33. 20. González Navarro, Universidad Complutense, 84–85. 21. García de Oro and Portela Silva, “Visitas a la Universidad de Alcalá,” 11. 22. On the capilla, see González Navarro, “La universidad de Alcalá de Henares,” 1:31–32.

234

NOTES TO PAGES 59–62

23. According to Title 81 of the constitutions. See González Navarro, Universidad Complutense, 340–45. See also Estado de la universidad de Alcalá, desde su fundacion que manifiesta sus fundadores, agregadores, reformadores, catedras, colegios, dependientes, ministros, jurisdiccion, y rentas. Presentado por el Don D.r Mariano Martin Esperanza, actual rector de d.ha Universidad, al s.or Don Arias Antonio Mons, del Supremo Consejo de Castilla y visitador real de dicha, handwritten manuscript, AHN, Universidades, libro 1083-F, f. 6r (hereinafter cited as Esperanza, Estado). Esperanza says that some or all of these had the right of presentation to becas in the university. The constitutions, Title 33, gave the right to presentation in the colleges for poor students to these four, plus the heir to the Cisneros family estates. See González Navarro, Universidad Complutense, 255. Most sources list only the king and the archbishop of Toledo as patrons. 24. González Navarro, Universidad Complutense, 25. 25. Haliczer, The Comuneros of Castile, 144. 26. Kagan says that about half the becas at San Ildefonso were in the hands of patrons (Students and Society, 110 n.4). 27. Urriza, La preclara facultad, 72–73; González Navarro, Universidad Complutense, 95; Lascaris Comneno, Colegios mayores, xviii. 28. Lascaris Comneno, Colegios mayores, xxi; title 62 in González Navarro, Universidad Complutense, 322–27. 29. González Navarro, Universidad Complutense, 89, n. 70. 30. Urriza says that they had to pay all their own expenses (La preclara facultad, 79–80). 31. Beltrán de Heredia, “La teología,” 171; Urriza, La preclara facultad, 73, 75; Lascaris Comneno, Colegios mayores, xviii–xx. The familiares should not be confused with those of the Inquisition. 32. González Navarro, Universidad Complutense, 148–50. Kagan, Students and Society, 65, 110. The hospital was named in honor of Saint Luke because according to tradition he was a physician. 33. These are listed in Gil García, “La Universidad de Alcalá de Henares,” 21. 34. Urriza, La preclara facultad, 23. According to González Navarro (“La Universidad de Alcalá de Henares,” 1:23), Cisneros envisioned three levels of study. The lower level was the study of grammar and language; the intermediate level, the study of arts (the súmulas, rhetoric, natural philosophy, and the beginnings of metaphysics); the upper level, theology and canon law. 35. Kagan, Students and Society, 163–65. 36. Escandell Bonet, “La regulación cisneriana,” 104. 37. Urriza, La preclara facultad, 72. 38. Escandell Bonet, “La regulación cisneriana,” 106. 39. Ibid. There seems to be no agreement about how the examinations were conducted. Martín Hernández has a somewhat differing description of the alfonsina and says it was confined to the school of medicine (La formación clerical, 64–69). González Navarro lists it under the second two years in the school of theology, six months after the magna ordinaria.

NOTES TO PAGES 62–66

235

40. Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 14–15. 41. González Navarro, Universidad Complutense, 25. 42. González Navarro is one author who holds that there was a great difference between Cisneros’s original conception and what the university became after 1530 (Universidad Complutense, 35). He cites the reforms of both Zúñiga and Ovando to confirm this thesis. As will be seen, I do not agree with this. 43. Information on these reforms is to be found in Esperanza, Estado, ff. 21r–24v. The Ovando reform is dealt with in ff. 25r–28r. 44. Esperanza, Estado, ff. 21v–23r. Ovando referred to two royal provisions of 29 August 1544 that resulted from Quiñones’s reform but did not specify what they were. AHN, Universidades, leg. 525F, f. 42r. 45. González Navarro, “La Universidad de Alcalá de Henares,” 1:38. 46. Lovett, Philip II and Mateo Vázquez de Leca, 13. Though there is no evidence to bear this out, it seems the most plausible explanation. 47. On 9 October 1565 Ovando wrote to Vázquez de Leca that he was not receiving money from Seville, “mi iglesia” (IVDJ, envío 57, caja 70, unfoliated). In his deathbed letter to Philip II, 2 September 1575, he said that he had not been paid in full for his posts as canon, provisor, and inquisitor (IVDJ, envío 91, caja 43, f. 1). It is extraordinary that he was still exercising the latter post. 48. AGS, Cámara de Castilla, leg. 2789, tomo 1, f. 1. The text of the commission, which was issued in Madrid, runs to f. 3r. 49. This was in a separate provision of 14 September 1564, ibid., f. 3. 50. Ibid., f. 3r and v. The witnesses were Nicolás de Ovando and Mateo Vázquez de Leca. 51. Ibid., f. 8r. 52. Ibid., f. 8v. 53. AGS, Cámara de Castilla, leg. 2789, tomo 1, f. 12r. 54. The record says that he went to the church of “Sand lifinso,” the scribe’s way of spelling San Ildefonso. There are numerous such scribal errors in these documents. This church should not be confused with the university church of Santos Justo y Pastor. 55. AGS, Cámara de Castille, leg. 2789, tomo 1, ff. 15v–16r. 56. Ibid., ff. 16r and v. 57. Ibid., f. 17v. 58. Ibid., f. 19r. 59. Ibid., f. 19r. 60. Ibid., f. 19r and v. 61. Ibid., f. 20v. 62. A bedel was originally a town crier or herald for the university. There were two of these, and they were important officials. They oversaw the holding of classes and the presence of the teachers in order to give an account to the rector so that he could impose fines. They also watched the students to make sure that they spoke only Latin. They acted as general masters of ceremonies, ensuring that all

236

NOTES TO PAGES 66–70

formalities were observed. See González Navarro, “La Universidad de Alcalá de Henares,” 1:33–34. 63. Espinosa report, IVDJ, envío 90, caja 127. 64. AGS, Cámara de Castilla, leg. 2789, f. 22r and v. 65. Ibid., f. 54r. 66. Ibid., f. 56r–57r, 61r–62v. 67. Ibid., ff. 58r and v, 59r–60v, 62v. 68. Ibid., ff. 63r–64v. 69. Ibid., ff. 65r–66v, 67–68r, 69r–70v 70. Ibid., packet 6, ff. 15r–24r. 71. Ibid., tomo 1, ff. 83r, 86r, 87r, 98r, 99r and v, 100r–101r, 102r–3v, 107r–8v, 109r–10r. 72. The questionnaires can be found in AGS, Cámara de Castilla, leg. 2789, packets 1–6, unfoliated. 73. A good, brief summary of this can be found in Gil García, “La Universidad de Alcalá Henares,” 23–24. 74. De la ministracion de la justicia de Alcala q[uanto] a los estudiantes e informacion dellos, AGS, Cámara de Castilla, leg. 2789, packet 9 (author’s enumeration), unfoliated. Medimilla’s two memorials are dated 26 and 28 September. 75. A síndico was a person who collected court fines but also acted as a public defender for any organization or corporation. 76. Zavarte to Ovando, 9 October, 1565, AGS, Cámara de Castilla, leg. 2789, packet 9 (author’s enumeration), unfoliated. 77. AGS, Cámara de Castilla, leg. 2789, packets 11 and 14 (author’s numeration), unfoliated. 78. Ibid., packet 10, unfoliated. 79. Ibid. The date was the petitioner’s error, since Nebrija died in 1532. 80. See especially AGS, Cámara de Castilla, leg. 2789, tomo 1, f. 15. 81. González Navarro, Universidad Complutense, 33. His treatment of the question is on pp. 35–64. 82. AHN, Universidades, leg. 525F, f. 111. 83. Ibid., f. 113r and v. 84. Ibid., f. 114r. The order of materials is inverted. Titles 35 to the end are to be found in ff. 116v to 172v and Titles 1–35 are in ff. 38r–76r, but in this legajo the latter are bound after the former. Ff. 76v–101r contain the rules for the individual colegios. 85. Ibid., f. 49. The pertinent section of the original constitutions, in Latin and a Spanish translation, can be found in González Navarro, Universidad Complutense, 194–97. 86. AHN, Universidades, leg. 525F, f. 142r, undated. 87. Sicroff, Los estatutos, 119. He cites as a source Rújula y de Ochotorena, Indice, 34. 88. Cited in Sicroff, Los estatutos, See also Kamen, Philip of Spain, 33.

NOTES TO PAGES 70–74

237

89. AGS, Patronato Real, leg. 59, f. 147. 90. Ibid. 91. AHN, Universidades, leg. 525F, f. 49v. 92. Ibid., ff. 52v–54r, 56r. 93. Ibid., ff. 141v–42r. 94. Ibid., f. 143v. 95. Ibid., f. 152r. It was an addition to Title 56 of the constitutions. 96. Ibid., f. 183v. 97. Ibid., ff. 173r–74r. There is a document with similar contents on ff. 175r–77v. Unfortunately, both documents are in bad condition, and large sections have been lost in the binding of the legajo so that it is almost impossible to read them. 98. Ibid., f. 183v. 99. Ibid., ff. 116v–23v; González Navarro, Universidad Complutense, 260–67. 100. The tabulation of the votes can be found in AHN, Universidades, leg. 525F, f. 124r. 101. Esperanza, Estado, f. 25v. 102. González Navarro, Universidad Complutense, 284–85. 103. AHN, Universidades, leg. 525F, ff. 135v–36r. Esperanza in his report wrote of four principal chairs of theology, but he was including one of Scripture. Cisneros’s original constitutions had viewed the chair of Scripture, together with the classes on Peter Lombard’s Sentences as preparatory to the other chairs. Esperanza also said that Ovando established only two lesser chairs of theology, that is, Thomist and Durandist. He omitted the Aristotelian chair, but that may be the one he calls moral philosophy (Estado, f. 25v–26r). 104. AHN, Universidades, leg. 525F, f. 136r. 105. Ibid., f. 135v. 106. Ibid., f. 139r. 107. Ibid., f. 139r. 108. Ibid., f. 139v. 109. Ibid., f. 152v. 110. Ibid., f. 153r. 111. Ibid., f. 153v. 112. González Navarro, Universidad Complutense, 298–301. Avicenna (980–1037) was an important Arab philosopher who also wrote treatises on chemistry and medicine. He had great influence on medieval scholasticism. 113. AHN, Universidades, leg. 525F, f. 144v. 114. Ibid., f. 145r. 115. Ibid., f. 145v. 116. Esperanza, Estado, AHN, f. 27r. 117. AHN, Universidades, leg. 525F, f. 140v, 146v. 118. Esperanza, Estado, AHN, f. 26r. 119. AHN, Universidades, leg. 525F, ff. 124r–28v. 120. Ibid., f. 158r. González Navarro, Universidad Complutense, 222–23.

238

NOTES TO PAGES 74–79

121. González Navarro, Universidad Complutense, 270–71. 122. AHN, Universidades, leg. 525F, ff. 124r–28v. 123. Ibid., f. 179v. 124. Ibid., f. 185r. 125. Ibid., ff. 185v–92r. 126. González Navarro, Universidad Complutense, 37. 127. Esperanza, Estado, 28r. 128. Entrambasaguas, Grandeza y decadencia, 207–8, 223, 225; Muñoyerro, La facultad de medicina, 23. 129. Gil García, “La Universidad de Alcalá de Henares,” 16. 130. Esperanza, Estado, 11. 131. The Spanish Inquisition, unlike the Roman, generally avoided dealing with matters of science. Copernicus’s work was never banned. See Kamen, Inquisition and Society, 262. 132. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, from Alcalá de Henares, 1 May 1565, IVDJ, envío 57, caja 70, unfoliated. 133. Vázquez de Leca to Espinosa, from Alcalá de Henares, 9 or 10 August 1565, ibid. By 28 September Vázquez was in Madrid and in Espinosa’s service. Ovando sent him his salary and possessions from Alcalá. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, from Alcalá de Henares, 28 September 1565, ibid. 134. Ovando to Espinosa, from Alcalá de Henares, 11 August 1565, ibid. 135. Ovando to Espinosa, from Alcalá de Henares, 11 September 1565, ibid. The relative was a Doctor Ovando, not further identified. 136. Marañón says that Mateo Vázquez’s tutors placed him in Espinosa’s service at the Casa de Contratación in Seville in 1565 (Antonio Pérez, 1:378). This is inconsistent with the anxiety that Vázquez felt about entering the cardinal’s service in Madrid. 137. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, from Alcalá de Henares, 9 October 1565, IVDJ, envío 57, caja 70, unfoliated. 138. As he himself testified in his deathbed request to Philip II, 2 September 1575, IVDJ, envío 31, caja 43, no. 59. 139. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, from Alcalá de Henares, 15 October 1565, IVDJ, envío 57, caja 70, no foliation. This Nicolás de Ovando must have been the grandson of Doctor Nicolás de Ovando, Juan’s cousin, who had died sometime before June 1565. See Altman, Emigrants and Society, 159, 310 n.62. 140. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, from Alcalá de Henares, 21 and 23 October 1565, IVDJ, envío 57, caja 40, unfoliated. 141. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, from Seville, 6 January 1566, IVDJ, envío 57, cajas 40, 70, unfoliated. 142. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, from Seville, 24 January 1566, IVDJ, envío 57, caja 40.

NOTES TO PAGES 80–82

239

CHAPTER 5 1. The appointment can be found in book 5, the second book of Castile, AHN, Inquisición, libro 1279, f. 184r. There was a separate instillation for Aragon, Titulo de consiliario al Li.do Ju.o de ouando, ante el s.o P.o de Tapia, 1566, in the index to libro 9 de Aragon. AHN, Inquisición, libro 1273, f. 20r. 2. Kamen, Inquisition and Society, 30; Pérez Villanueva and Escandell Bonet, Historia de la Inquisición, 1:281. 3. There were three kinds of inquisition. The first was the inquisitorial activities of bishops, who were called Inquisitors Ordinary, each one for his own diocese. The Roman Inquisition, an international organization, was established by the papacy in the Middle Ages and was a moribund institution in most places by the fifteenth century. The Spanish Inquisition was entirely distinct from the other two. 4. Kamen, for one, gives him great credit for its foundation and development (Inquisition and Society, 46). He was certainly a strong supporter of the new tribunal in Aragon. See Monter, Frontiers of Heresy, 3–28. 5. This is Kamen’s view, Inquisition and Society, 46, and repeated in Spain, 40. 6. Kamen, Philip of Spain, 79. See also Nalle, God in La Mancha, and Christian, Local Religion. 7. A thorough study of the origins of the Inquisition is Netanyahu, Origins. 8. Kamen, Inquisition and Society, 43. The two were separated from 1507 to 1518 and then reunited. 9. Kamen, however, says that he was not appointed head until 11 February 1492 (Inquisition and Society, 32). 10. Kamen calls this the “most bloody” period of the Inquisition’s history (Inquisition and Society, 50). 11. Ovando to Philip II, from Madrid, 9 February 1573, IVDJ envío 76, caja 125, f. 458r. Ovando was arguing against the appointment of bishops as Inquisitors General. 12. Meseguer Fernández, “Los hechos,” 343–49. Ovando to Philip II, from Madrid, 9 February 1573, IVDJ envío 76, caja 125, f. 458r. 13. Ovando to Philip II, from Madrid, 9 February 1573, IVDJ envío 76, caja 125, f. 458r. Deza resigned under pressure in 1507 because of the abuses associated with the Inquisition during his tenure. See Kamen, Inquisition and Society, 52. 14. Avilés Fernández, “El Santo Oficio,” 448–72. 15. He first fell from favor in 1529 but was partially restored. In 1533 Charles V became displeased with him and confined him to his archdiocese until his death. See Avilés Fernández, “El santo oficio,” 471. 16. Lovett, “The Inquisition under Close Scrutiny,” 709. 17. Kamen, Inquisition and Society, 66–67. 18. For a survey of the structure and organization of the Inquisition, see Kamen, The Spanish Inquisition, 144–48; Dedieu, “Note sur l’Inquisition,” l’Inquisition;

240

NOTES TO PAGES 82–86

Rodríguez Besne, “Notas.” The latter article deals mostly with the seventeenth century. 19. Dedieu, “Note sur l’Inquisition,” 30. For a good summary of the question of whether the Inquisition was a civil or ecclesiastical institution, see Tomás y Valiente, “Relaciones de la Inquisición.” 20. For some examples of these appeals, see Caro Baroja, Los judíos en la España, 2:19. 21. A set of instructions on how to administer torture can be found in the AHN, Inquisición, libro 1237, ff. 130r–31r. 22. On the Inquisition’s system of punishments, see Kamen, Inquisition and Society, chap. 10. 23. Monter, Frontiers of Heresy; Kamen, Philip of Spain, 92–93, 105. 24. For the attitude of the Inquisition toward scientific questions, see Kamen, The Spanish Inquisition, 134. 25. On the question of witchcraft and the 1526 meeting, see Monter, Frontiers of Heresy, 255–75. 26. See Avilés Fernández, “El Santo Oficio,” 463–64; and Contreras Contreras, “Los procesos.” Kamen gives an opposite interpretation of the 1526 junta but then appears to contradict himself (The Spanish Inquisition, 271, 272, 274). For an extensive treatment of the Inquisition’s attitude toward witchcraft, see Kamen, The Spanish Inquisition, 269–76. 27. Monter, Frontiers of Heresy, 279. 28. Kamen, Inquisition and Society, 149; Lovett, Early Habsburg Spain, 286; Lovett, “The Inquisition under Close Scrutiny,” 710. 29. Another means of support was to suppress the canonries and turn their income over to the Inquisition. AHN, Inquisición, libro 1235, is full of these suits. 30. For examples of corruption and excess, see Kamen, Inquisition and Society, 50–52. 31. On earlier opposition to the Inquisition, see Avilés Fernández, “Motivos de crítica.” Kamen holds that secrecy was the major abuse of the Inquisition (Inquisition and Society, 168–69). 32. On opposition to the Inquisition in Aragon, see Carrete Parrondo, El judaísmo español, 42–44; Monter, Frontiers of Heresy, 3–15. 33. Kamen, The Spanish Inquisition, 53. 34. On this, see Kamen, Philip of Spain, 95–96. 35. See Carrasco, El problema morisco, 142. 36. Kamen, Philip of Spain, 235; Correspondencia diplomática, ed. Serrano, 3:cviii–cxii. 37. On the familiares and their problems, see Kamen, The Spanish Inquisition, 145–48; Monter, Frontiers of Heresy, 61–66. 38. Haliczer, The Comuneros of Castile, 43. 39. Monter, Frontiers of Heresy, 58–59. 40. See Kamen, Philip of Spain, 82–83.

NOTES TO PAGES 86–88

241

41. This was the full title of the president of the Supreme Council of the Inquisition. Details of Valdés’s appointment can be found in AHN, Inquisición, libro 1271, f. 11v. According to Lea, Valdés received his commission on 20 January 1547 and took possession of his office on 19 February 1547 (A History of the Inquisition, 1:557). Biographical details on Valdés are taken from González Novalín, Valdés. He had been a tutor to the young Philip II. 42. Kamen, Inquisition and Society, 68–69. 43. Ibid., 74. 44. Kamen, Philip of Spain, 73. The source is letters and memorials to the king, in AGS, Estado, leg. 129, ff. 110–12, 128. 45. Kamen, Philip of Spain, 73; AGS, Estado, leg. 138, f. 23. 46. Kamen, Philip of Spain, 83; Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 723–24. 47. On the extent of foreign books entering Spain in the 1560s, see Kamen, Inquisition and Society, 87. On Valdés’s revitalization of the Holy Office, see Monter, Frontiers of Heresy, 40–45. 48. An Index Expurgatorius is different from an Index Librorum Prohibitorum (Index of Forbidden Books). The former condemned a book only until it had been corrected or purged of offending passages; the latter forbade it absolutely. 49. Kamen says that the king realized the decree was little more than a gesture, since it applied only to Castilians, few of whom were studying abroad (Philip of Spain, 81). In a later work Kamen says that the decree did not apply to the universities at Bologna, Rome, Naples, and Coimbra (The Phoenix and the Flame, 388). 50. Kamen, Philip of Spain, 105. 51. On the pope’s disgust with Valdés, see Serrano, ed. “Introducción” to Correspondencia diplomática, 2:lxxvi, note 3. 52. The only published information that is at all helpful is to be found in the investigative process that preceded Espinosa’s appointment as bishop of Sigüenza in 1568. See González Novalín, “El cardenal Espinosa,” 465–81. Some brief biographical data can be found in the report that Espinosa commissioned on the alumni of the universities of Spain, IVDJ, envío 90, caja 127, unfoliated. Biographical information can also be found in Kamen, Philip of Spain, 114, 147–48; and Martínez Millán, “Un curioso manuscrito,” 299–344. 53. González Novalín, “El cardenal Espinosa,” 467 n.2. Martínez Millán gives the date as 1512 (“En busca de la ortodoxía,” 192). It is sometimes said that he was born in 1502. 54. The testimony of his first tonsure, together with other documents on his ecclesiastical advancement, can be found in González Novalín, “El cardenal Espinosa,” 470, 472. 55. This information can be found in the biographical information on notable alumni of Spanish universities that Espinosa ordered compiled, IVDJ, envío 90, caja 127, unfoliated. Espinosa was listed among those who sought entry but failed to achieve it.

242

NOTES TO PAGES 88–90

56. Martínez Millán does not name the historians (“En busca de la ortodoxía,” 192). 57. This was noted by Francisco Hernández, a witness to Espinosa’s limpieza at the time of his appointment as bishop of Sigüenza, who said that he had seen the original process. González Novalín, “El cardenal Espinosa,” 478. On the Colegio Mayor de Cuenca, see Carabias Torres, Colegios mayores, 2:422–32. It had been founded in 1500 by Diego Ramírez de Villaescusa, bishop of Málaga. According to Caro Baroja, the founder laid down a very rigous statute of limpieza de sangre for the colegio in 1537 (Los judíos en la España, 2:272). 58. A transcription of the examination and awarding of this degree, dated 28 June 1547, can be found in González Novalín, “El cardenal Espinosa,” 469–70. 59. See the low opinion of Espinosa’s abilities by García de Loaysa Girón in Martínez Millán, “Un curioso manuscrito,” 304–5. Braudel also had a low opinion of the cardinal, whom he called “grossly vain and overwhelmed with honours and responsibilities” (The Mediterranean, 2:1124). 60. Martínez Millán, “Un curioso manuscrito,” 306. 61. Ibid., 308. He also says that the Espinosa and Niño families became closely allied. 62. Martínez Millán,”Grupos de poder,” 185. 63. Martínez Millán consistently refers to Cervantes de Gaete as the provisor. 64. BL, Additional Manuscripts, 28351, f. 21; Martínez Millán, “Un curioso manuscrito,” 306; Cabrera de Córdoba, Historia de Felipe II, 1:469. 65. Martínez Millán. “Grupos de poder,” 184 n.252. 66. González Novalín, “El cardenal Espinosa,” 467, 472–73. 67. It can be found in González Novalín, “El cardenal Espinosa,” 471–72. The document is dated at Rome 5 February 1560. Added to it is a dimissorial (a letter granting permission for an individual to be ordained to the priesthood by a bishop other than his own) from the administrator of the archdiocese of Toledo, dated 20 January 1564, granting permission to any bishop to administer minor orders to Espinosa. 68. Lovett, “Juan de Ovando and the Council of Finance,” 3 n.10. He cites British Museum, Additional Manuscript 28351, f. 65, for the date. He also says that Espinosa was named president of the Inquisition, though he was actually coadjutor; that is, he administered the Inquisition because of Valdés’s infirmities and had the right of succession. 69. Vázquez de Leca to Espinosa, from Alcalá de Henares, 9 August 1565, IVDJ, envío 57, caja 70, no foliation. Kamen refers to it as the Council of State (Philip of Spain, 114). Pius V’s letter of congratulation, dated 17 April 1566, can be found in Serrano, ed., Correspondencia diplomática, 1:183–84. 70. AHN, Inquisición, libro 1271, f. 11v. 71. Serrano, ed., “Introducción” to Correspondencia diplomática, 2:79. 72. Ibid., 80. 73. The date is given by Gómez Rivas, El virrey del Perú don Francisco de Toledo, 121.

NOTES TO PAGES 90–91

243

74. González Novalín, “El cardenal Espinosa,” 467–68 n.15. 75. Serrano, ed., “Introducción” to Correspondencia diplomática, 2:72. 76. González Novalín, “El cardenal Espinosa,” 466. The inquiry into Espinosa’s background and suitability for the office of bishop, conducted by Nicolás de Ovando in April 1568, is on 474–81. The witnesses included two members of the Council of Castile, Francisco Hernández and Juan Zapata, and two members of the Suprema, Hernando de Vega and Francisco Soto de Salazar. Their answers can hardly be considered unbiased. 77. Castagna to Alessandrino, 21 April 1568, in Serrano, ed., Correspondencia diplomática, 2:81. 78. “Introducción,” ibid., 2: LXXXII. 79. Ibid., 2: LXXXI. 80. Cabrera de Córdoba, Historia de Felipe II, 2: 125. 81. IVDJ, envío 81, leg. 1251, quoted in Gómez Rivas, El virrey del Perú don Francisco de Toledo, 119 n.1. 82. Cabrera de Córdoba, Historia de Felipe II, 1: 494, 629. 83. Pius V to Espinosa, 9 September 1566, Serrano, ed., Correspondencia diplomática, 1:334; AHN, Inquisición, libro 1271, ff. 54v–55r. The notification to the local tribunals was sent out on 9 December. Lea believed that Valdés’s resignation was forced, not by Philip II, but by Pius V because of his role in the Carranza affair (Lea, History of the Inquisition, 1:305–6, 2:79). This is quite possible, since Valdés was willing to risk schism rather than permit the Carranza case to be removed to Rome (Lea, History of the Inquisition, 2:78). Nuncio Castagna reported to Cardinal Alessandrino that “the public, which does not know otherwise, believes that it was done by His Holiness as punishment for his having been opposed to the said archbishop of Toledo” (Castagna to Alessandrino, 28 November 1566, in Serrano, ed., Correspondencia diplomática, 1:406). 84. Unfortunately, the original appointment has not been found. It is referred to in AHN, Inquisición, libro 1279, f. 184r, and libro 1273, f. 20r. 85. AHN, Inquisición, libro 1233, ff. 91v–92r. 86. Both Busto de Villegas and Hernando de Vega were later part of Vázquez de Leca’s faction and enemies of the Ebolis and Antonio Pérez. See Marañón, Antonio Pérez, 1:383. 87. There is an interesting draft of a dimissorial in IVDJ, envío 57, caja 70. Originally, the letter was to have been issued in the name of Archbishop Valdés, but his name has been erased and Ovando’s substituted in his capacity as provisor and vicar general. The letter is garbled, especially since it gives the date for ordination to the diaconate as coming before minor orders and subdiaconate. Probably the only thing that can be said for sure is that Vázquez de Leca was ordained in 1569. 88. González Novalín does not agree. He considers Espinosa as much a careerist as Valdés (El Inquisidor General Fernando de Valdés, 285). 89. Until Espinosa’s time “the Suprema rarely attempted to supervise the routine operations of local tribunals” (Monter, Frontiers of Heresy, 68).

244

NOTES TO PAGES 91–93

90. Unsigned, undated instruction, AHN, Inquisición, libro 1229, f. 63 (original pagination). 91. Acordada of 16 January 1567. Signed by Rodrigo de Castro, Busto de Villegas, Soto Salazar, and Ovando. AHN, Inquisición, libro 1233, f. 92r. The order was renewed on 18 January, AHN, Inquisición, libro 1254, letter 39, f. 342v. 92. 22 May 1567, AHN, Inquisición, libro 1233, ff. 92r–92v. A copy is in the letters of the Inquisitor General to inquisitors, libro 1254, letter 40, f. 342v. 93. 22 June 1568, AHN, Inquisición, libro 1254, letter 51, 345v–345(bis)r. 94. 18 August 1568, ibid., libro 1233, f. 94r, and libro 1254, letter 52, f. 345(bis)r. 95. 20 September 1570, ibid., libro 1254, f. 349v. A copy is in libro 1254, letter 69, f. 349v. The copy is somewhat different, indicating “consultors” rather than comisarios and ordering the local tribunals to do nothing without consulting the Suprema. 96. 20 September 1570, AHN, Inquisición, libro 1233, f. 100r. Copy in libro 1254, letter 67, ff. 349r–v. 97. 12 August 1570, ibid., f. 99v. Copy in libro 1254, letter 67, ff. 349r–v. 98. 16 October 1570, ibid., ff. 100r–v. 99. 30 January 1571, ibid., f. 100v; and libro 1254, letter 72, ff. 350r–v. 100. 22 May 1571, ibid., f. 101r, and libro 1254, letter 74, ff. 350v–51r. 101. AHN, Inquisición, libro 1254, letter 36, f. 342r. It is signed by Ovando. In all probability it should be dated 24 December 1566. 102. 24 December 1566, AHN, Inquisición, libro 1233, ff. 91v–92r, copy in libro 1271, f. 55v. 103. 10 December 1567, ibid., f. 92v, and libro 1254, letter 42, f. 345r. Ovando did not sign this. 104. 14 April 1570, ibid., f. 99r, libro 1254, letter 65, f. 348v. 105. Unsigned, undated instruction, AHN, Inquisición, libro 1233, f. 99v, and libro 1254, letter 66, ff. 348v–49r. 106. See AHN, Inquisición, libro 1235, which is filled with the papers of these suits. 107. AHN, Inquisición, libro 577, f. 135v. 108. Ibid., libro 1233, f. 95r; libro 124, letter 61, f. 446r. 109. 8 April 1567, ibid., f. 92r; libro 1254, letter 39, f. 342v. 110. For details, see Monter, Frontiers of Heresy, 68. 111. AHN, Inquisición, libro 1243, f. 379. 112. 26 November 1569, AHN, Inquisición, libro 1233, ff. 98r–98v; libro 1254, letter 63, ff. 384r–89v, and ff. 349v–50r. 113. 20 September 1570, AHN, Inquisición, libro 1233, f. 100r; Monter, Frontiers of Heresy, 66. 114. See the comments by Monter, Frontiers of Heresy, 45. 115. On 15 January 1567 the Suprema circulated a letter from Cardinal Grenvelle to Philip II, emphasizing the need for vigilance over ships in Spanish ports. AHN, Inquisición, libro 1233, f. 92r; libro 1254, letter 37, f. 342v.

NOTES TO PAGE 94

245

116. Kamen, “The Impact of the French Wars of Religion,” 145, 152. 117. AHN, Inquisición, libro 1233, f. 101r, and libro 1254, letter 75, f. 350v. 118. Kamen, “The Impact of the French Wars of Religion,” 149. For similar efforts in Aragon, see Monter, Frontiers of Heresy, 86–89. 119. Kamen takes a more moderate view of the censorship of books by the Inquisition (“The Impact of the French Wars of Religion,” 146). 120. Suprema to the Inquisitors of Alcalá de Henares, from Madrid, 8 October 1567, AHN, Inquisición, libro 1233, f. 92v; libro 1254, letter 41, f. 343r. Francesco Giorgio Zorzi (1460–1540), known as Giorgio Veneto (George of Venice), was an Italian philosopher and mystic who mingled Christian, Jewish, and pagan ideas. There does not seem to be any basis for calling him a Franciscan. 121. 6 May 1568. AHN, Inquisición, libro 1233, 93v, and libro 1254, letter 47, f. 344r; 18 June 1568, libro 1233, f. 93v, and libro 1254, letter 49, f. 345r, 345v. On his history, see Llorente, A Critical History, 108. On his friendship with Vázquez de Leca, see Marañón, Antonio Pérez, 1:379. 122. 4 June 1568, AHN, Inquisición, libro 1233, f. 93v; libro 1254, letter 48, f. 345r. Casiodoro de Reina, or di Regno, was an obscure sixteenth-century writer who translated a number of books of the Bible into Spanish. He may also have been one of the pseudonymous authors of Artes. See Castrillo, El “Reginaldo Montano,” 31; Kinder, Casiodoro de Reina. 123. Kinder, Casiodoro de Reina, 19, 54. See also Kelley, “Introduction,” in Ponce de la Fuente and Gracián de la Madre de Dios, Beatus Vir, 62–63. 124. 21 June 1568. AHN, Inquisición, libro 1233, f. 94r; libro 1254, letter 50, f. 345v; libro 376, f. 210. Ramus (1515–72) was an anti-Aristotelian. 125. 18 August 1568, AHN, libro 1254, letter 53, f. 345(bis)r; 30 August 1568, libro 1233, f. 94v, and libro 1254, letter 54, f. 345(bis)r. It is possible that Los Feros is to be identified with Juan Fero, a Franciscan. See Llorente, A Critical History, 108. The name Ceiglerius is the author’s reconstruction of the name in the document, which is almost illegible. 126. 20 October 1568. AHN, Inquisición, libro 1233, f. 94v, and libro 1254, letter 55, f. 345(bis)r; 30 October 1568, libro 1233, f. 94v, and libro 1254, letter 56, f. 345(bis)v. The order was renewed on 30 January 1571, libro 1233, ff. 100v–101r, and libro 1254, letter 73, f. 350v. Denis the Carthusian (1402–71) was a popular spiritual writer and the author of De Quattuor Novissimis (The Four Last Things). 127. These included a book with annotations by Philip Melancthon (unsigned, undated, AHN, Inquisición, libro 1233, f. 99r, and libro 1254, letter 64, f. 348v); an edition of the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary (Officium Parvum Beatissimae Mariae) printed in Paris in 1566, letter of 16 June 1570, libro 1233, f. 99r, and libro 1254, letter 66, f. 348v–49r; libro 577, f. 135v, where it says that the book can be identified by a frontispiece with a cross and swan and the motto in hoc signo vinces (in this sign you will conquer). The Inquisition’s objection was that the Paris volume had cigno for signo, changing the meaning to “in this swan.” Llorente, A Critical History, 109.

246

NOTES TO PAGES 95–100

128. AHN, Inquisición, libro 489. 129. Descripción del Arzobispado de México, ed. García Pimentel, 4. 130. Martínez Millán, “Un curioso manuscrito,” 326. 131. Kamen, who considers Espinosa to have been very conservative, believes that there was tension between the king and the cardinal over the latter’s work habits, including the fact that he tended to make decisions orally rather than on paper. He also believes that Philip’s rebuke of Espinosa, whom he accused of lying, “almost literally killed Espinosa” (Philip of Spain, 147–48). The story of the mortal rebuke seems to have originated with Cabrera de Córdoba, Historia de Felipe II, 2:125, 450. Braudel says that the death was the result of apoplexy but also quotes one testimony that it was the result of low fevers plus the onset of a catarrh that suffocated him (The Mediterranean, 2:1124 and n. 186). Gómez Rivas also doubts the story of death by rebuke. He cites the anecdote that Philip II, on passing through Martín Muñoz de las Posadas, said, “Here rests the best minister that I have had in my kingdoms” (El virrey del Perú don Francisco de Toledo, 122). His source was Biografía eclesiástica completa, 5:589 (Madrid, 1852). 132. Cabrera de Córdoba, Historia de Felipe II, 2:126. 133. IVDJ, envío 76, caja 102, f. 458r–60v. 134. Ibid., f. 460v. 135. Ibid., f. 460v. According to Parker, the Council of the Indies under Ovando met three days a week, morning and afternoon (Philip II, 30). 136. Cabrera de Córdoba, Historia de Felipe II, 2:127. CHAPTER 6 1. Quoted in Parker, Philip II, 30. 2. Gonzalo Pérez to Cardinal Granvelle, 16 April 1560, quoted in Parker, Philip II, 28–29. See also Kamen, Philip of Spain, 100, where he says that the letter was dated 30 June 1565 and was addressed to Margaret of Parma’s secretary. 3. Ovando to Philip II, 25 November 1573, IVDJ, envío 101, f. 214r. 4. Kamen says that Philip’s handwriting was neat and legible and that the bad writing was the result of sloppiness or haste (Philip of Spain, 225). Never having seen a sample of the king’s neat handwriting, I am inclined to agree with Schäfer’s observation, “Before the arrival of [Mateo] Vázquez, Don Felipe would write the majority of the marginal notes in a handwriting that is the despair of every researcher” (El Consejo, 1:99 n.2). 5. Parker, Philip II, 29. 6. See Poole, “The Last Years of Archbishop Pedro Moya de Contreras.” 7. This system is well described by Maltby, Alba, 73–74. 8. For a good description of the duties and functions of royal secretaries, see Escudero, Los secretarios, 2:325–40. 9. Vázquez to Philip II, undated but sent on 19 April 1573, quoted in Parker, Philip II, 32. This was actually after Vázquez had received his appointment.

NOTES TO PAGES 100–106

247

10. Different authors give different accounts of his entry into the royal service. Kamen says that he entered the royal service twenty-four hours after Espinosa’s death on 5 September 1572 (Philip of Spain, 148). Cabrera de Córdoba says that it was Philip’s powerful secretary, Sebastián de Santoyo, who was responsible for bringing Vázquez into the royal service (Historia de Felipe II, 2:449). Vázquez’s official appointment was 29 March 1573, and he took the oath of office on 1 April (Escudero, Los secretarios, 3:627–29). Cabrera de Córdoba related a story that the king once saw Santoyo’s son disturbing some carefully arranged papers and commented to Vázquez that the only reason he did not order his head cut off was his father’s services “because he gave me you” (Historia de Felipe II, 2:307). 11. Martínez Millán and Carlos Morales, “La administración de la gracia real,” 41; Martínez Millán, “Grupos de poder,” 194, 196. Maltby says that Espinosa was a product of Francisco de Eraso’s network (Alba, 75). He also makes the same assertion about Vázquez de Leca, but that is doubtful in view of the roles played by Ovando and Espinosa in his rise. 12. Parker, Grand Strategy, xv, 3, 111; Brading, The First America, 213. 13. On the history of the Moriscos from 1500 to 1568, see Domínguez Ortiz and Vincent, Historia de los moriscos, 14–33. For the revolt, see 35–56. The revolt lasted approximately from Christmas 1568 to autumn 1570. See Caro Baroja, Los moriscos, 159. He is very critical of Espinosa’s policies toward the Moriscos (14–15, esp. 14 n.42), as is Braudel, The Mediterranean, 2:790. 14. Testimony in the visita of the Council of the Indies, 18 August 1567, BL Additional Manuscripts, 33983, f. 17r. All quotations from these materials are made with the kind permission of the administration of the British Library. 15. García de Castro, from Lima, 20 December 1567, in Nueva colección de documentos inéditos, 6:210–17; Ramos, “La Junta Magna y la nueva política,” 7:453. The letter was received in March 1568. 16. Comisarios de Perpetuidad to the king, undated, probably 1562–63, in Nueva colección de documentos inéditos, 6:46, esp. 96; Ramos, “La Junta Magna y la nueva política,” 7:437. 17. Wagner and Parish, The Life and Writings of Bartolomé de Las Casas, 236. 18. Reproduced in Borges, “Un reformador de Indias,” 145–47. 19. The best treatment of Maldonado is in Borges, “Un reformador de Indias,” 108–52. 20. Borges, “Un reformador de Indias,” 290. 21. Reproduced in Borges, “Un reformador de Indias,” 131–37. 22. Ibid., 134. 23. IVDJ, envío 25, caja 40, f. 139. 24. Ibid. 25. Ibid. 26. Ibid. 27. Ibid. See also Borges, “Un reformador de Indias,” 493–96. 28. IVDJ, envío 25, caja 40, f. 139; Borges, “Un reformador de Indias,” 148.

248

NOTES TO PAGES 106–12

29. Undated opinion, IVDJ, envío 25, caja 40, f. 142. Vázquez de Arce, the senior councillor, served on the Council of the Indies from 1554 to 1571 (Schäfer, El Consejo, 1:355). 30. IVDJ, envío 25, caja 40, f. 142. On the Valladolid disputation see Hanke, The Spanish Struggle, 113–30; Hanke, All Mankind is One, throughout but especially 67–71; las Casas, In Defense of the Indians. 31. IVDJ, envío 25, caja 40, f. 142. 32. Ibid., f. 143. The date carries no year. 33. Borges, “Un reformador de Indias,” 292. 34. Ibid., 293–94. 35. IVDJ, envío 25, caja 40, f. 143. 36. Ibid., f. 145. 37. Reproduced in Borges, “Un reformador de Indias,” 147–49. The heading states that it was intended for the council, but throughout it is addressed to Vuestra alteza. 38. The petition is reproduced in Borges, “Un reformador de Indias,” 149–51. 39. Ibid., 151–52. 40. “Memorial,” in Colección de documentos inéditos (1864–84), 11:163–70. For a brief summary, see Real Díaz, “La política del Consejo de las Indias,” 112–14. 41. “Memorial” 11:163. 42. Ibid. 43. Ibid., 164. 44. Ibid., 163. 45. On this, see Poole, “The Church and the Repartimientos.” 46. “Memorial,” 164. 47. Ibid., 163. 48. Ibid., 169, 170. 49. Ibid. 50. Hanke, The Spanish Struggle, 92. 51. This section relies heavily on Goldwert, “La lucha,” 207–42. Goldwert’s article is a comprehensive treatment of the question. 52. See Brading, The First America, 70. 53. Goldwert, “La lucha,” 220, 221. 54. Ibid., 222. 55. Letter of Polanco, 13 November 1568, and Jerónimo Nadal, 2 August, Document 4, in Borges, “Nuevos datos,” 232. Francisco Borja (1510–72), known in English as Saint Francis Borgia, was the former duke of Gandía and great-grandson of Pope Alexander VI. 56. Lopetegui, “San Francisco de Borja y el plan misional,” 6. 57. Document 1, in Borges, “Nuevos datos,” 231. 58. Document 5, in Borges, “Nuevos datos,” 232–33. 59. Borges, “Nuevos datos,” 218. Borges mistakenly identifies Pedro Menéndez de Avilés as viceroy of Florida. His title was adelantado, or governor.

NOTES TO PAGES 112–17

249

60. Zúñiga to Philip II, 17 August 1568, in Borges, “Nuevos datos,” 233. 61. Document 4, in Borges, “Nuevos datos,” 232. 62. Some of these letters can be found in Colección de bulas: the letter to Philip II, 17 August (1:104); to Espinosa, 18 August (1:105); to Toledo, 18 August, (1:105); and to the Council of the Indies, 18 August (1:106). All were in Latin. 63. Document 7, in Borges, “Nuevos datos,” 234. It is not clear that this instruction was separate from the briefs. Burrus believed that Francis Borgia drew up the original draft of this document (“Pius V and Francis Borgia,” 211 n21). 64. A Spanish translation of the instruction, with Castagna’s modifications in italics, can be found in Borges, “Nuevos datos,” document 13, 237–41. 65. Borges, “Nuevos datos,” 239. 66. Ibid. 67. Ibid., 239–40. Inexplicably, Burrus refers to this as “polygamy” but in a note cites the Latin, which clearly says ne qua mulier plures haberet maritos (“Pius V and Francis Borgia,” 216 n35). The unmentionable vices were los vicios nefandos, from the Latin nephandus, meaning something that ought not to be mentioned. 68. Castagna to Cardinal Alessandrino, document 15, in Borges, “Nuevos datos,” 241. 69. Ramos, “La Junta Magna y la nueva política,” 438. 70. Manzano Manzano, an admirer of both Ovando and Toledo, says that “Ovando in Spain and Toledo in Peru were going to constitute the two cornerstones on which it [the crown] counted to raise up the colossal edifice in the Indies, in critical danger of ruin” (Historia de las Recopilaciones, 1:76). CHAPTER 7 1. A brief but good description of the visita can be found in Manzano Manzano, “La visita de Ovando;” Schäfer, El Consejo, 1:129–32. 2. These dates are from Lovett, “Juan de Ovando and the Council of Finance,” 6. Schäfer incorrectly gives 1569 as the year the visita began and says that Ovando was appointed president on 28 August 1571 (El Consejo, 1:129, 352). 3. Schäfer, El Consejo, 1:351. 4. Real Díaz, “La política del Consejo de las Indias,” 79, 81 n7. 5. Ibid., 82–83. 6. Though Schäfer asserted that the acta of Ovando’s visita had been lost (El Consejo, 1:129), a corpus of documents can be found in BL, Additional Manuscripts, 33983. These papers, however, do not contain the original questionnaire. Real Díaz says that the questionnaire can be found in the Descripción del arzobispado de México, but he is apparently confusing the visita with the Relaciones geográficas (“La política del Consejo de las Indias,” 82). 7. A listing of the individual documents can be found in Peña Cámara, “Nuevos datos,” 429–33. Another voluminous set of responses from Guadalajara can be found in AGI Guadalajara, leg. 5, with the title Averiguaçiones hechas por el

250

NOTES TO PAGES 117–21

yllustre Sr. Liçencado Contreras y Guebara, oydor-alcalde mayor del Audiencia Real del Nuevo Reyno de Galicia y el más antiguo, sobre lo tocante a la visita del Real Consejo de Yndias. Unfortunately, I did not have the opportunity to consult these. Undoubtedly there are other papers of the visita still to be located in the AGI. 8. Testimony of 2 July 1567, BL, Additional Manuscripts, 33983, ff. 53–161; testimony of Briviesca de Muñatones, 18 August 1567, BL, Additional Manuscripts, 33983, f. 1r–23r. 9. Ibid., f. 3v–4r. 10. Testimony of fray Francisco de Morales, 2 January 1568, BL, Additional Manuscripts, 33983, f. 262v. 11. On Ayala de Espinosa, see Vigil, Alonso de Zorita, 173, 175, 208. 12. Ayala de Espinosa actually gave two testimonies. The first, which is found in BL, Additional Manuscripts, 33983, ff. 194r–203r, dated 23 December 1567 and addressed to Juan de Ovando. The second, which contains some additional paragraphs, is found in ff. 204r–14v, is undated and is addressed directly to the king. 13. Testimony of licenciado Ayala de Espinosa, 23 December 1567, BL, Additional Manuscripts, 33983, f. 194v. 14. Testimony of fray Francisco de Morales, 2 January 1568, ibid., f. 259r. 15. Ibid., f. 260r. 16. Testimony of licenciado Briviesca de Muñatones, 18 August 1567, ibid., f. 1r–23r. 17. Testimony of licenciado Barrionuevo de Peralta, 1 September 1567, ibid., f. 187v–88r. 18. Ibid. 19. Ibid., f. 188r. 20. Testimony of fray Francisco de Morales, 2 January 1568, ibid., f. 260r. 21. Ibid., f. 261r. 22. Testimony of Salazar de Villasante, Madrid, 23 August 1567, 23 June 1568, and 23–25 June 1568, ibid., ff. 21r–44v. 23. Ibid., f. 21v. 24. Ibid., f. 21r. Vázquez de Arce was not president of the Council but was acting president in his capacity as senior councillor from August 1567 to May 1568. 25. Testimony of 28 August 1567, BL, Additional Manuscripts, 33983, ff. 178r–79r. 26. Testimony of 1 September 1567, ibid., ff. 180r–81v. 27. Testimony of Salazar de Villasante, 23 August 1567, 23–25 June 1568, ibid., ff. 36v, 37r, 44r. 28. Testimony of Salazar de Villasante, Madrid, 23 August 1567, 23 June 1568, and 23–25 June 1568, ibid., f. 44r. 29. Testimony of Briviesca de Muñatones, 18 August 1567, ibid., f. 20r. 30. Testimony of don Diego de Santillán, 1 August 1567, ibid., f. 190r. 31. Testimony of Ayala de Espinosa, 23 December 1567, ibid., f. 194v.

NOTES TO PAGES 121–27

251

32. Testimony of Briviesca de Muñatones, 18 August 1567, ibid., f. 5v. 33. Ibid., f. 6r. 34. Ibid., f. 7r. 35. Ibid., f. 8r. 36. Testimony of Salazar de Villasante, 23 August 1567, 23 and 23–25 June 1568, ibid., ff. 39v–40r. 37. Testimony of Briviesca de Muñatones, 18 August 1567, ibid., f. 10v. 38. Apparently Briviesca de Muñatones confused the name of the bishop. There was no bishop of Cuzco by that name in that period. 39. Testimony of Briviesca de Muñatones, 18 August 1567, BL, Additional Manuscripts, 33983, f. 2v. 40. Testimony of Salazar de Villafante, 23 June 1568, ibid., f. 38r–v. 41. BL, Additional Manuscripts, 33983, f. 49r. 42. Testimony of the licenciado Alférez, 24 August 1567, ibid., f. 49r. 43. “Representación del Dr. Cáceres,” in Colección de documentos ineditos (1864–84), 11:55–82. On his suspension, see Schäfer, El consejo, 2:445, 468. 44. “Representacion del Dr. Cáceres,” in Colección de documentos ineditos (1864–84), 11:56, 57, 58, 59, 62, 63, 65, 71. 45. Testimony of Briviesca de Muñatones, 18 August 1567, BL Additional Manuscripts, 33983, f. 13v. 46. Ibid., ff. 11v–12r, 13v. 47. Ibid., ff. 13v, 15r. 48. Ibid., f. 15r. 49. Ibid., f. 15v. 50. Testimony of licenciado Ayala de Espinosa, 23 December 1567, ibid., ff. 208v–14v. 51. Ibid., f. 209v. 52. Testimonies of Vaca de Castro, 11 September 1567, ibid., f. 184v; Francisco de Morales, 2 January 1568, ibid., 254v–55r. 53. There is no indication of who this person was. 54. Testimony of Briviesca de Muñatones, 18 August 1567, BL, Additional Manuscripts, 33983, f. 4r. 55. Ibid., ff. 4v–5r. 56. Testimony of don Antonio Vaca de Castro, 11 September 1567, ibid., ff. 182r–89v. 57. Testimony of Ayala de Espinosa, 23 December 1567, BL, Additional Manuscripts, 33983, f. 201v. 58. Ibid., f. 200r. 59. Testimony of fray Francisco de Morales, 2 January 1568, ibid., f. 252r. 60. Ibid., f. 252r. 61. Ibid., f. 253r. 62. Ibid., f. 253v. 63. Ibid., f. 254v.

252

NOTES TO PAGES 127–31

64. Testimony of Captain Antonio Gómez de Acosta, 28 August 1568, ibid., f. 176r. 65. Bartolomé de Las Casas has been the object of much criticism because he once advocated importing black slaves to replace the Indians. However, his critics often fail to note that he later regretted this suggestion and regarded black slavery as evil as Indian slavery. 66. BL, Additional Manuscripts, 33983, f. 198r. 67. Ibid., f. 214r. 68. “The burden of the day and its heat” (Matt. 20:12). 69. BL, Additional Manuscripts, 33983, f. 214r. 70. Testimony of licenciado Ayala de Espinosa, 23 December 1567, ibid., f. 195r. 71. Ibid., f. 198v. 72. Testimony of fray Francisco de Morales, 2 January 1568, ibid., f. 256r. 73. Ibid., f. 256r. 74. Ibid., f. 257r. 75. Testimony of licenciado Ayala de Espinosa, 23 December 1567, ibid., f. 202v. 76. Testimony of Francisco de Morales, 2 January 1568, ibid., ff. 254v–55v. 77. Ibid., f. 255v. 78. Memorial of 5 April 1570, in Colección de documentos ineditos (1864–84), 11:51. 79. García-Abásolo, Martín Enríquez, 267. 80. Martiré, “La política de Juan de Ovando,” 7:456. 81. Pérez Picón, “Don Luis Méndez Quixada,” 99. 82. This list, undated and unsigned, is in IVDJ, envío 88, caja 124, f. 545, visitas. It is part of the papers dealing with the visita and seems to be a preparatory paper for the Junta Magna. Manzano Manzano gives a longer list (Historia de las Recopilaciones, 1:78–79). That is the list that is followed here. See also Lovett, “A Cardinal’s Papers,” 247; Ramos, “La Junta Magna y la nueva política,” 7:438–39. The additional names were Antonio de Toledo (prior of San Juan), Padilla, the count of Chinchón, Menchaca, and Fresneda. 83. Levillier, D. Franascode Toledo, 81, 85. 84. Pizarro Llorente says that Fresneda was an ebolista and an enemy of Valdés (“El control de la conciencia real,” 153, 155). Martínez Millán, however, indicates that Fresneda owed part of his advancement to Espinosa (“En busca de la ortodoxía,” 199). 85. See Carlos Morales, “Grupos de poder,” 134. Martínez Millán says that in about 1570 the Eboli faction was regaining favor and Espinosa was losing it. The ebolistas claimed that the cardinal’s repressive policies in the Netherlands and Alpujarras provoked revolt and bankruptcy (“Grupos de poder,” 194, 195). Goldwert believed Gómez and Eboli were different people, calling them “two favorites of the king in the Council of State” (“La lucha,” 23:225). 86. IVDJ, envío 25, caja 40, f. 163; Lovett, Philip II and Mateo Vázquez de Leca, 21. 87. Ramos, “La Junta Magna y la nueva política,” 7:440.

NOTES TO PAGES 131–35

253

88. Manzano Manzano, Historia de las Recopilaciones, 1:89. 89. IVDJ, envío 88, caja 124, f. 544, visitas. The document is unsigned and undated. 90. The deliberations on the establishment of the Inquisition are in AHN, Inquisición, libros 352, 1033, 1035. 91. See Levillier, D. Francisco de Toledo, 77; Ramos, “La Junta Magna y la nueva política,” 7:439. 92. Lovett, Philip II and Mateo Vázquez de Leca, 20 n.63. 93. Parker says that Vázquez was the coordinator of all the juntas and that without him the junta system would not have worked (Philip II, 33). See also Lovett, “A Cardinal’s Papers,” 247. Lovett gives a careful analysis of the work of the Junta Magna in an appendix to this article, 255–61. This is drawn from a document in IVDJ, envío 59, f. 768, which Lovett (256) believes was a preliminary draft of the instructions later given to Viceroy Toledo. It is undated, somewhat incomplete, and unsigned, though the hand appears to be that of Mateo Vázquez de Leca. A more detailed analysis, based on a document in the archive of the Ministerio de Justicia, Madrid, is given by Ramos, “La Junta Magna y la nueva política,” 439–51. That is the document I have used for this chapter. See also the comments about the work of the junta of Nuncio Castagna to Cardinal Alessandrino, 1 October 1568, in Serrano, ed., Correspondencia diplomática, 4:471–72. 94. Manzano Manzano, Historia de las Recopilaciones, 1:86. 95. Ramos, “La Junta Magna y la nueva política,” 7:439. 96. Ibid., 440. 97. Ibid. 98. Ibid., 447; Lovett, “A Cardinal’s Papers,” 259. 99. Lovett, “A Cardinal’s Papers,” 257; Castagna to Cardinal Alessandrino, 1 October 1568, in Correspondencia diplomática, 4:471–72; Ramos, “La Junta Magna y la nueva política,” 7:440. 100. Lisson Chávez, ed., La Iglesia de España en el Perú, 2:439. 101. For a discussion of this, see Padden, “Ordenanza,” 347–50. 102. Castagna to Alessandrino, 5 June 1568, Serrano, ed., Correspondencia diplomática, 2:382. 103. Ramos, “La Junta Magna y la nueva política,” 7:440. 104. Ibid., 105. Ibid., 444–45. 106. The text can be found in Lisson Chávez, ed., La Iglesia de España en el Perú, 2:438–56. 107. Lovett, “A Cardinal’s Papers,” 261. 108. Ramos, “La Junta Magna y la nueva política,” 7:448. 109. On this see Poole, Pedro Moya de Contreras, 41–44, 62. 110. Ramos, “La Junta Magna y la nueva política,” 7:445–57. 111. Ibid., 449. 112. Lovett, “A Cardinal’s Papers,” 260.

254

NOTES TO PAGES 135–40

113. Ibid.; Ramos, “La Junta Magna y la nueva política,” 7:449. 114. Goldwert, “La lucha,” 23: 226. The consulta of the Junta Magna on perpetuity can be found in Colección de documentos, ed. Konetzke, 1:437–41; Ramos, “La Junta Magna y la nueva política,” 7:450–51 115. Goldwert, “La lucha,” 226. 116. The term feudo was associated with the encomiendas of Naples, all of which belonged to the crown, which paid a stipulated amount to the encomenderos. See Goldwert, “La lucha,” 219. 117. Goldwert, “La lucha,” 226. 118. Brading, The First America, 71. 119. Castagna to Cardinal Alessandrino, 9 February 1569, in Serrano, ed., Correspondencia diplomática, 3:42. 120. Goldwert, “La lucha,” 232; Schäfer, El Consejo, 2:296. 121. Ovando to Philip II, November 25, 1573, IVDJ, envío 101, f. 214r CHAPTER 8 1. These can be found in IVDJ, envío 88, caja 124, ff. 542, 543. Some have been reprinted in Jiménez de la Espada, El Código Ovandino, 8–23; Maurtúa, Antecedentes, 3–18. Peña Cámara believed that they were written between February of 1569 and August of 1571 (“El manuscrito,” 17). 2. “El Lic.do Joan de Ovando del Vro. consejo en la Santa general Inquisicion dize que aviendo acabado la visita del consejo de las Indias que V. M.d le ma[n]do hazer consulta a V. Md. en presencia lo que della resultaua,” undated, IVDJ, envío 88, caja 124, visitas, f. 542. Reprinted in Jiménez de la Espada, El Código Ovandino, 11–23; Maurtúa, Antecedentes, 5–18. 3. Maurtúa, Antecedentes, 6. 4. Ibid., 7. 5. Schäfer said that it was unheard of for a visitador to participate in the implementation of the reforms he suggested but that after a personal conversation with Ovando, Philip II considered it worthwhile (El Consejo, 1:132). 6. “Ordenanzas reales del Consejo de Indias,” in Colección de documentos inéditos (1864–84), 16:406–60; Muro Orejón, ed., “Las ordenanzas de 1571 del Real y Supremo Consejo de las Indias,” 363–423. This is a facsimile reproduction of the original printed version of the ordenanzas. See also Schäfer, El Consejo, 1:234–44. 7. Maurtúa, Antecedentes, 9–16. 8. Schäfer, El Consejo, 1:131. 9. Ibid., 12. 10. Ibid., 133–34; Colección de documentos . . . de ultramar, 1, 16, 40–460. They can also be found in “Códice e Leyes y ordenanzas nueuamente hechas por su Magestad para la gouernacion de las Yndias y buen tratamiento y conservacion de los Yndios que se han de guardar en el consejo y audiencias Reales que en ellas Residen y por todos los otros gouernadores jueces y personas particularles de

NOTES TO PAGES 140–42

255

ellas. Setiembre 24 de 1571,” in Colección de documentos ineditos (1864–84), 16: 376–460. 11. A fiscal was a crown attorney whose special task was to promote and defend royal jurisdiction, patrimony, and financial interests. He was to be vigilant that royal orders and decrees were carried out, especially with regard to the Indians and the poor. See “Ordenanzas,” in Colección de documentos ineditos (1864–84), 16:431. 12. Ibid., 16:412, 416. The accumulation of paperwork in the Council of the Indies in 1571 had reached such a height that in addition to meeting daily for three hours, it was found necesssary to add three more meetings each week. See Parker, Grand Strategy, 28. 13. Baudot, Utopia, 511–12; Carbia, La crónica, 97–98. For the background and general history of the Relaciones geográficas, see Sánchez Bella, Dos estudios, 91–211. 14. Martínez Carreras, “Estudio preliminar,” 183:xlv. He also believes that Ovando was responsible for the similar surveys of Spain, the Relaciones geográficas de España, and that he inaugurated them after becoming president of the Council of Finance. Ovando died, however, before these surveys could be undertaken. Ibid., lv–lvi. 15. Cline, “The Relaciones geográficas,” 346. The cédula of 23 January 1569 for the archdiocese of Mexico can be found in Cuestionarios, 12–15. 16. Jimenez de la Espada, Relaciones geográficas, l:xliv–xlvii. See p. 346, no. 18, for some of these descriptions. Sánchez Bella says that this questionnaire was drawn up in September 1571 (Dos estudios, 92). 17. “Relacion de la Isla Española enviada al Rey D. Felipe II por el licenciado Echagoian Oidor de la audiencia de Santo Domingo,” in Colección de documentos ineditos, 1:10. 18. Manzano Manzano, Historia de las Recopilaciones, 1:225 n.12. 19. Cuestionarios, 15–16. 20. Ibid., 16–74. 21. Ibid., 75–87. 22. Jiménez de la Espada, El Código Ovandino, 21; Maurtúa, Antecedentes, 16. For a good brief summary of his duties, see Goodman, Power and Penury, 68–73. 23. Manzano Manzano, Historia de las Recopilaciones, 224. 24. Carbia, La crónica oficial, 103. 25. Colección de documentos, 1:361. 26. Moya de Contreras to Philip II, 28 March 1576, in Epistolario de la Nueva España, 12:12–13. 27. D’Olwer, Fray Bernardino de Sahagún, 90. 28. Edmonson, ed., Sixteenth-Century Mexico, 9. 29. Cline, “The Relaciones geográficas,” 344. See Schäfer, El Consejo, 1:118–19; 2:406, 421; Jimenez de la Espada, Relaciones geográficas, l:lvii–lix. 30. Baudot says that Hernández’s researches lasted from 1570 to 1574 (Utopia, 506).

256

NOTES TO PAGES 143–50

31. Somolinos d’Ardois, Vida y obra de Francisco Hernández, 44–47, 53–54; Schäfer, El Consejo, 2:421–23. 32. Baudot, Utopia, 506–8. 33. Descripción del arzobispado de México hecha en 1570 y otros documentos, ed. Pimentel; Descripción del Arzobispado de México. 34. Descripción, ed. Pimentel, 4. 35. Ibid., 4. 36. Ibid., 4–6. 37. D’Olwer, Fray Bernardino de Sahagún, 96–97. 38. For a comprehensive treatment of the confiscations, see Baudot, Utopia, 491–526; Brading, The First America, 120–23; Durán, The History of the Indies, xxx–xxxiii. 39. Manzano Manzano, Historia de las Recopilaciones, 1:33–35. 40. For a brief history of Puga’s work, see Manzano Manzano, Historia de las Recopilaciones, 1:21–26; González, Gobernación espiritual, xxxii. 41. Manzano Manzano, Historia de las Recopilaciones, 1:47–50, 73. 42. AGI, Indiferente general, leg. 427, book 29, ff. 62–93v. 43. When López de Velasco died in 1598 he still had not been paid for his work (Manzano Manzano, “La visita de Ovando,” 119). The name Copulata is found in a payment order from Ovando to Velasco around 1570. See Peña Cámara, “La Copulata,” 12. González says that the Copulata was drawn up by a team headed by Juan de Ledesma and López de Velasco, both of whom had been associated with Ovando in his visita of the Council of the Indies (Gobernación espiritual, xxxiii.) 44. Jiménez de la Espada, El Código Ovandino, 10; Maurtúa, Antecedentes, 9. 45. Manzano Manzano, Historia de las Recopilaciones, 1:147. 46. Schäfer. El Consejo, 1:132. 47. See “Relación del estado en que tiene el licenciado Ovando la visita del Consejo de Indias,” in Maurtúa, Antecedente, 4. 48. IVDJ, envío 88, caja 124. 49. Maurtúa, Antecedentes, 17. 50. The proposal is summarized in González, Gobernación espiritual, 88–90. The text is on 270. 51. Manzano Manzano called this proposal “verdaderamente revolucionario” (Historia de las Recopilaciones, 153). 52. Jiménez de la Espada, El Código Ovandino, 22; Maurtúa, Antecedentes, 17–18. 53. Undated, unsigned document, IVDJ, envío 76, caja 102, f. 520r–v. 54. González, Gobernación espiritual, 5. 55. AHV, Ms. 2935, 3. 56. González, Gobernación espiritual, 7. 57. Ibid., 127–333. His analysis of the contents is on 12–35. 58. Padden, “The Ordenanza del Patronazgo,” 347–52. 59. Manzano Manzano, “La visita de Ovando,” 122.

NOTES TO PAGES 150–55

257

60. On this ordenanza, see Padden, “The Ordenanza del Patronazgo,” 333–54; Schwaller, “The Ordenanza del Patronazgo, 253–74; Poole, Pedro Moya de Contreras, 23–24; 79–87. 61. The text can be found in Cedulario indiano, 1:83–86. 62. Ibid., 83. 63. Ibid., 84. 64. Poole, Pedro Moya de Contreras, 80–81. 65. On the rise in status and competence of the diocesan clergy as a result of the Ordenanza, see Schwaller, “The Ordenanza del Patronazgo,” 266–70l. 66. The only systematic examination of the sources of the ordenanzas has been made by Sánchez Bella, Dos estudios, 21–36. 67. Hanke, The Spanish Struggle, 23–25; The Laws of Burgos. 68. Hanke, The Spanish Struggle, 112. 69. Parker, Grand Strategy, 87. 70. Cedulario indiano, 4:254. 71. Hanke, The Spanish Struggle, 111–32; Hanke, All Mankind Is One, 57–112. 72. Hanke, The Spanish Struggle, 117. 73. Morales Padrón, Teoría y leyes, 487. 74. Zavala, Las instituciones jurídicas, 5, 481. 75. “Ordenanzas sobre descubrimientos nuevos y poblaciones,” in Colección de documentos ineditos, 8:484–537 (incorrectly dated); 16:142–87. 76. Schäfer, El Consejo, 1:135–36. Ovando’s signature was in second place, after Gómez Zapata. Schäfer deduces from this that Philip II had examined them for a long time, since Ovando had been president of the Council of the Indies since 28 August 1571, and his name should have been first. 77. On this, see Manzano Manzano, La incorporación, 207–17. He believes that the ordenanzas were very much in the spirit of Las Casas (215). 78. See Manzano Manzano, La incorporación, 167; Morales Padrón, Teoría y leyes, 458–60; Góngora, El estado en el derecho indiano, 95; Domínguez Ortiz, The Golden Age of Spain, 314. 79. Cédula of 24 September 1571, in Colección de documentos inéditos, 16:376–97; the additions to the New Laws are in 16:397–406. 80. Chaps. 1, 2, 25, 29, 136. 81. Chaps. 4, 139, 20, 24. 82. Chap. 26. 83. Chaps. 27, 30. 84. Chap. 140. 85. Chap. 147. 86. Chap. 141. 87. Chap. 146. 88. The ordenanzas dealing with laying out a town can be found in Nuttal, “Royal Ordinances.” The Spanish original is on 745–49; the English translation, 749–53.

258

NOTES TO PAGES 156–62

89. Sánchez Bella, Dos estudios, 88. 90. AGS, Quitaciones de Corte, leg. 28, ff. 459r–60r. There is a copy of the cédula in IVDJ, envío 25, caja 40, f. 130. 91. AGS, Quitaciones de Corte, leg. 28, f. 460r. 92. Philip II to Council of the Indies, 24 September 1571, AGI, Indiferente general, leg. 582, despachos secretos, vol. 1, 24 September 1571–28 October 1598, ibid., f. 2r. 93. Philip II to the Council of the Indies, 6 October 1571, ibid., f. 3r–v. 94. Philip II to the Council of the Indies, 6 October 1571, ibid., f. 3v. 95. Philip II to the Council of the Indies, 6 October 1571, ibid., f. 3v–4r. 96. The councillors began their campaign in 1576, Council of the Indies to Philip II, undated, probably 1576, AGI, Indiferente general, leg. 738, f. 161. 97. Zárate to Ovando, 20 December 1571, AGI, Indiferente general, leg. 1094, unfoliated. 98. Ovando to Philip II, 14 April 1575, AGI, Patronato Real, leg. 171, núm. 1, ramo 2, 1575. 99. Ovando to Philip II, 13 November 1575, ibid. 100. AGI, Indiferente general, leg. 1094, unfoliated. 101. Enríquez to Ovando, 8 October 1573, quoted in García-Abásolo, Martín Enríquez, 30. 102. On this, see Poole, Pedro Moya de Contreras, 59–60. 103. Ovando to Philip II, 8 February 1575, AGI, Patronato Real, leg. 171, núm. 1, ramo 2, 1575. 104. Ovando to Enríquez, 20 May 1575, AGI, Indiferente general, leg. 1094, unfoliated. 105. Ovando to Philip II, 2 February 1575, AGI, Patronato Real, leg. 171, núm. 1, ramo 2, 1575. 106. García–Abásolo, Martín Enríquez, 38. 107. Ovando to Philip II, 8 February 1575, AGI, Patronato Real, leg. 171, núm. 1, ramo 2, 1575. Schäfer gives the date as 18 February (El Consejo, 2:49–51. 108. Ovando to Philip II, 8 February 1575, AGI, Patronato Real, leg. 171, núm. 1, ramo 2, 1575. These figures are underlined in the text. 109. Ovando to Philip II, 14 April 1575, ibid. 110. Ovando to Philip II, 14 March 1575, ibid. 111. Ovando to Philip II, 14 March 1575, ibid. 112. AGI, Indiferente general, leg. 865, titulos de presidentes 1579–1814. CHAPTER 9 1. Lovett, “Juan de Ovando and the Council of Finance,” 2; Kamen, Philip of Spain, 159–60. 2. IVDJ, envío 53, f. 97, 12 September 1574, quoted in Lovett, “Juan de Ovando and the Council of Finance,” 7. See also Parker, Grand Strategy, 41–42.

NOTES TO PAGES 162–69

259

Kamen has a different evalution: “No other ruler of his time had more experience of and perception in matters of state finance” (Philip of Spain, 157). I find this evaluation somewhat benign. 3. Parker, Grand Strategy, 87. 4. Cited in Elliot, Spain and Its World, 145 n.11. 5. Ulloa, La hacienda real, 97, table 2. 6. Lovett, Early Habsburg Spain, 221–22. For a similar assertion, see Carande, Carlos V y sus banqueros, 1:337. 7. Ulloa, La real hacienda, 171; Carande, Carlos V y sus banqueros, 2:221–38. 8. Ulloa, La real hacienda, 172. According to Williams, in 1559 the encabezamiento brought in about 890,000 ducados annually (Philip II, 47). 9. Ulloa, La real hacienda, 171; Carande, Carlos V y sus banqueros, 2:238–565. Originally a tercia was one-third of the income for the upkeep of churches. 10. For an explanation of the cruzada, see Ulloa, La real hacienda, 571–78. 11. For the spread of Genoese financial influence in Spain, see Braudel, The Mediterranean, 1:342–43. Genoese expansion and financial domination was not confined to Spain but reached throughout the Mediterranean world. The so-called age of the Genoese is dealt with on 1:500–504. 12. Ruiz Martín, “Las finanzas españoles,” 114. 13. Parker, Grand Strategy, 82. 14. The following explanation relies heavily on Lovett, Philip II and Mateo Vázquez de Leca, 61, 82. See also Carande, Carlos V y sus banqueros, 1:323–49. There is no adequate published history of the fairs. 15. Ruiz Martín, “Las finanzas españolas,” 111; Lovett, “The Castilian Bankruptcy,” 905. 16. See Lovett, Early Habsburg Spain, 225. 17. Castillo Pintado, “Los juros de Castilla,” 44–45, 49–50. 18. Ibid., 48 n.12. Braudel makes a distinction between juros de recaudación and juros de caudación, saying that the former were negotiable, the latter were not (The Mediterranean, 1:501 n.268). 19. On the origins of the juros de resguardo, see Ruiz Martín, “Las finanzas españolas,” 122. 20. Lovett, Early Habsburg Spain, 226. 21. See Nader, Liberty in Absolutist Spain. 22. Ulloa, La hacienda real, 597; Haliczer, The Comuneros of Castile, 54. 23. Ulloa, La hacienda real, 581. 24. For a description of the excusado, see Ulloa, La hacienda real, 623–35. 25. Lovett, “Juan de Ovando and the Council of Finance,” 10. 26. Consulta of 25 March 1575, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, unfoliated. 27. Lovett, “Ovando and the Council of Finance,” 9. 28. Ulloa, La hacienda real, 31; Lovett, “Juan de Ovando and the Council of Finance,” 3. 29. Unsigned, undated consulta, Envío 72, caja 99, tomo 1, f. 33v.

260

NOTES TO PAGES 169–75

30. Ibid., f. 34r. 31. Ibid., ff. 33v–34r, 38r–39r. 32. Carlos Morales, “Grupos de poder,” 111. 33. Martínez Millán, “Familia real,” 90. 34. Carlos Morales, “Grupos de poder,” 134. 35. Boyden, The Courtier and the King, 129. 36. Martínez Millán, “Grupos de poder,” 187. 37. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, 24 June 1575, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 99. 38. Quoted in Parker, Philip II, 134. See also Kamen, Philip of Spain, 163–64. 39. Cabrera de Córdoba, Historia de Felipe Segundo, 2:449. 40. Lovett, “Juan de Ovando and the Council of Finance,” 2; Kamen, Philip of Spain, 87. There is a lengthier description of the bankruptcies of 1557 and financial problems in Braudel, The Mediterranean, 2:960–66. 41. Ulloa, La real hacienda, 151. 42. Ibid., 759, 762. 43. Lovett regards them as two distinct bankrupties. Both decrees established the funding of the debt at 5 percent. The 1557 decree obtained the money from taxes on Castile. In 1560 the base was shifted to taxes on the Indies trade. In this way the king redeemed his sources of revenue for his own use (Lovett, “The Castilian General Settlement,” 3). See Ulloa, La real hacienda, 761. Ruiz Martín also considers them to have been distinct suspensions (“Las finanzas españolas,” 115, 118). 44. Parker, Grand Strategy, 92, 145. 45. Lovett, “Juan de Ovando and the Council of Finance,” 7. 46. The exact date on which he was appointed is uncertain. He was involved in studying the work of the council by the spring of 1574. See Lovett, “The Castilian Bankruptcy,” 901. 47. Ibid. 48. Consulta of 25 March 1575, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 103. 49. Unsigned, undated consulta, IVDJ, envío 72, caja 99, tomo 78, f. 32v; Ovando to Philip II, 16 January 1574, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, unfoliated. 50. Consulta of 25 March 1575, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 103. 51. Ibid. 52. Ovando to Philip II, from Madrid, 16 January 1574, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 38. 53. Ibid. 54. On Herrera’s tangled business relationships with the prince of Eboli, see Boyden, The Courtier and the King, 144–45; Carlos Morales, “Ambiciones y comportamiento.” 55. Ovando to Philip II, from Madrid, 16 January 1574, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37. 56. Ibid. 57. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, from Madrid, 14 April 1575, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 83. 58. Lovett, Philip II and Mateo Vázquez de Leca, 66.

NOTES TO PAGES 175–77

261

59. According to Ovando, the junta began its meetings on 1 June (IVDJ, envío 76, caja 102, f. 530r). According to another source the meetings began on Saint John’s day (IVDJ, envío 76, f. 530, cited in Lovett, “Juan de Ovando and the Council of Finance,” 8; Ovando to Philip II, 16 January 1574, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 38). In another article Lovett says that the meetings began on 8 July (“The Castilian Bankruptcy,” 908). It is possible that the four preliminary meetings began on 1 June and the decisive ones on 24 June, the Feast of Saint John the Baptist. Lovett says that the junta did not play a prominent part in discussions during 1573 and the first half of 1574 but that it began to emerge in part because Herrera, Fernández de Espinosa, and the factor Fernán López del Campo were all royal creditors (Lovett, “The Castilian Bankruptcy,” 908). However, Philip II, writing on 26 June 1574, said that the junta had been discussing the financial situation for a full year (IVDJ, envío 76, caja 102, f. 600r–v). 60. Vázquez de Leca, “Para la junta de los presidentes,” IVDJ, envío 21, f. 233, cited in Lovett, “Juan de Ovando and the Council of Finance,” 8. 61. Lovett, “Juan de Ovando and the Council of Finance,” 8. 62. Minutes, November 1573–13 January 1574; agenda for 25 November 1573; minutes from 25 July 1574 to November 25 1574, IVDJ, envío 76, caja 102, ff. 531v–33r, 538r, 540r–52r. 63. IVDJ, envío 72, caja 99, tomo 1, ff. 38r–39r. 64. On Fernández de Espinosa, see Carande, Carlos V y sus banqueros, 1:306. He gives 1574 as the year when Fernández de Espinosa was appointed treasurer. 65. Lovett, “The Castilian Bankruptcy,” 903. 66. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, from Madrid, 11 February 1574, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 72. 67. Ibid. 68. Ibid., f. 76. 69. Lovett, “The Castilian Bankruptcy,” 903. 70. Ibid., 910. 71. Ovando to Philip II, 11 April 1574, IVDJ, envío 76, caja 102, ff. 491r–503v. It is nicely summarized by Lovett, “Juan de Ovando and the Council of Finance,” 14–16. 72. Ovando to Philip II, 11 April 1574, IVDJ, envío 76, caja 102, f. 491r. 73. Lovett, “Juan de Ovando and the Council of Finance,” 15. 74. Ovando to Philip II, 11 April 1574, IVDJ, envío 76, caja 102, f. 495r. 75. Ibid., f. 541v. 76. Ibid. 77. Ovando to Philip II, 25 March 1575, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 103. 78. Ovando to Philip II, 11 April 1574, IVDJ, envío 76, caja 102, ff. 497r–503r; Lovett, “The Castilian Bankruptcy,” 904. Ovando gave a second, different set of figures in August (Lovett, “The Castilian Bankruptcy,” 902). 79. Consulta of 25 March, 1575, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 103. According to Lovett, by July 1574 the Council of Finance “accepted that a decree of bankruptcy

262

NOTES TO PAGES 177–82

was inevitable” (“The Castilian Bankruptcy,” 909). He seems unaware that there were two attempts at suspension and seizure. 80. Quoted in Parker, Philip II, 124–25; Lovett, “Juan de Ovando and the Council of Finance,” 18. 81. Ovando to Philip II, from Madrid, 11 April 1574, IVDJ, envío 76, caja 102, ff. 507r–8v, 511r–14v. 82. A summary of the negotiations can be found in Ruiz Martín, “Las finanzas españolas,” 137–40. An excellent brief summary is Williams, Philip II, 48–50. The most thorough study of the crown’s negotiations with the Cortes is Fortea Pérez, Monarquía y Cortes. An abridged version in English is Fortea Pérez, “The Cortes of Castile,” 117–38. The same material is covered in Fortea Pérez “Fiscalidad Real,” 63–79. 83. Ulloa, La hacienda real, 76. Williams gives Palencia instead of Toro (Philip II, 47, table 3.1). 84. Ulloa, La hacienda real, 81. See table 3.1 Williams, Philip II, 47. For the period of Ovando’s involvement this meant only one meeting, from April 1573 to September 1575. 85. Fortea Pérez, “The Cortes of Castile,” 119. 86. A bibliography on revisionist ideas about the Cortes can be found in Fortea Pérez, “The Cortes of Castile,” 117 nn.1,2. 87. Jago, “Philip II and the Cortes of Castile,” 39. 88. Martínez Cardós, “Las Indias y las cortes,” 258–59. 89. Lovett, “The Castilian Bankruptcy,” 906. 90. Ibid., 907. 91. Ibid., 906; Ulloa, La real hacienda, 787. 92. Actas de las Córtes, 4:21. The speech is on 15–23. 93. Ibid., 35. 94. Ibid., 36–40, 23 May 1573. 95. Ibid., 65–68, 10 June 1573. 96. Ibid., 71, 22 June 1573. 97. Lovett, The Castilian Bankruptcy, 906–7. 98. On similar attempts in an earlier period, see Nader, Liberty in Absolutist Spain, 79. 99. Actas de las Córtes, 4:104, 5 september 1573. 100. Actas de las Córtes, 4:128–30, 30 October 1573; Fortea Pérez, Monarquía y Cortes, 51. 101. Fortea Pérez says that it was for forty years (Monarquía y Cortes, 51). 102. Actas de las Córtes, 4:130–39, 30 October 1573. 103. Ibid., 154, 159–68. 104. Fortea Pérez, Monarquía y Cortes, 53. I do not share Lovett’s assessment that “a whole year had been consumed in formalities” (Lovett, “The Castilian Bankruptcy,” 907). This was a period of intense negotiation. 105. Actas de las Córtes, 4:190 n.1, 191.

NOTES TO PAGES 182–86

263

106. Ibid., 193. 107. Ibid., 199. 108. Ibid., 225–26. 109. Ibid., 236–38, 2 August 1574. 110. Actas de las Córtes, 4:241–42, 4 August. 111. Lovett, “The Castilian Bankruptcy,” 907. 112. Consulta of 4 November 1574, IVDJ, envío 76, caja 102, f. 608r–v. 113. Fortea Pérez, Monarquía y Cortes, 65. 114. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, from Madrid, 9 January 1575, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 77. 115. Lovett, “The Castilian Bankruptcy,” 907; Fortea Pérez, Monarquía y Cortes, 77. 116. Lovett, “The Castilian Bankruptcy,” 908. 117. Fortea Pérez, Monarquía y Cortes, 62. 118. Ibid., 66. 119. Ovando to Philip II, 16 January 1574, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 38. 120. Consulta of Ovando to Philip II, from Madrid, 26 July 1574, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, ff. 467r–v. 121. Ibid., f. 470v. 122. Ovando to Philip II, 25 March 1575, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 103. 123. Undated marginal notation in Ovando’s hand, IVDJ, envío 76, caja 102, f. 513r. 124. Vázquez de Leca to Philip II, from Madrid, 21 March 1575, IVDJ, envío 44, caja 57. 125. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, from Madrid, 27 March 1575, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 80. 126. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, from Madrid, 30 April 1575, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 70. Parker relates a story that on an occasion when one of the abler members of the junta was absent, Ovando, for the fun of it, decided to say nothing. None of the other members said anything because they did not know enough about the subject to make a contribution (Philip II, 123). 127. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, from Madrid, 20 May 1575, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 92. 128. Ibid. 129. Vázquez de Leca to Philip II, 20 May 1575, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 92. 130. Vázquez de Leca to Philip II, 26 March 1575, IVDJ, envío 44, caja 57, f. 121. 131. Ibid. 132. See Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, from Madrid, 24 June 1575, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 99. 133. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, from Madrid, 25 May 1575, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 97. 134. According to Lovett, “The Castilian Bankruptcy,” 909, and “The General Settlement,” 3, it was probably dated 1 September but released later. Ulloa also

264

NOTES TO PAGES 186–91

believes it was dated 1 September but was not promulgated until 15 September when it was announced to the Cortes (La real hacienda, 789). 135. Lovett, “The Castilian Bankruptcy,” 909. 136. Ulloa, La real hacienda, 790. The decree was in part directed against the Genoese. All asientos entered into after 1560 were annulled, causing them massive losses. See Braudel, The Mediterranean, 1:506. 137. Ulloa, La hacienda real, 791; Lovett, “The General Settlement,” 796. 138. Lovett, “The General Settlement,” 2; Ruiz Martín, “La finanzas españolas,” 143; Jago, “Philip II and the Cortes of Castile,” 25. 139. Jago, “Philip II and the Cortes of Castile,” 26. 140. IVDJ, envío 76, caja 102, f. 454. 141. This material is based on Lovett, “Juan de Ovando and the Council of Finance,” 19–21. 142. Ibid., 19. CHAPTER 10 1. Cabrera de Córdoba, Historia de Felipe II, 2:127. 2. Moya de Contreras to Ovando, 24 March 1575, in Epistolario de la Nueva España, 11:253. The same assertion is made by Lodo de Mayorgal, Viejos linajes, 185. 3. AGS, Patronato Real, leg. 62, f. 98. 4. Delgado, El colegio, 104. 5. Arias Montano to Ovando, 17 April 1571, IVDJ, envío 78, caja 103, f. 15. He also mentioned that Ovando was busier every day. 6. Ovando to Vázquez de Lecca, 14 April 1575, IVDJ, envío 78, caja 103, f. 75. 7. Arellana to Vázquez de Leca, 19 April 1571, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 101. 8. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, 19 April 1571, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 85. 9. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, 24 April 1575, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 68. 10. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, 28 April 1575, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 69. 11. Parker, Philip II, 34. 12. IVDJ, envío 31, caja 43, no. 59, ff. 1r–3r. On the outside is the notation Copia de un memorial del p.te Ovando estando al cabo desta vida, para su m.d 1575. This apparently was a draft, since it contains many corrections and is rather difficult to read. Lovett considers it very remarkable, but "sad" might be a better word. 13. IVDJ, envío 31, caja 43, no. 59, f. 1r. In view of the royal disapproval of his having acted as both inquisitor and provisor, it is remarkable that Ovando referred to the latter post. Later in the letter he said that he received 500 ducados from the archdiocese of Seville and 1,000 ducados from the diocese of Plasencia, of which he was able to collect only 500 (ibid., ff. 1v, 3r). 14. Ibid., 1v. 15. Ibid. 16. Ibid.

NOTES TO PAGES 191–92

265

17. He wrote a list of these creditors and then crossed it out. They were Juan Fernández de Espinosa, Juan de Curiel, de la Torre, Esteban Grillo, Vicente Cataña, Agustín Spínola (ibid.). Later he said that he had borrowed money on behalf of the king from the treasurer Fernández de Espinosa, the marqués de Auñón, and others with no security except his word (ibid., f. 2r). 18. AGS, Quitaciones de Corte, leg. 28, f. 466r. One of the witnesses who testified to the time of death was Ovando's valet, Juan Cebadilla. 19. Testimony of Juan de Ledesma, Madrid, 11 July 1594, in Martínez Quesada, "Documentación," 148. This document seems to be identical with the one in AGS, Contaduría de Mercedes, leg. 337, f. 28. Martínez Espadero was apparently an associate of Ovando's for many years. He entered the colegio mayor of San Bartolomé on 18 October 1557 (after Ovando had left for Seville). He held a position in the financial administration but lost his scholarship because of irregularities in the accounts. He was readmitted in 1560. He became a member of the Council of the Indies in 1572 and died at Madrid on 13 March 1589. See Ruiz de Vergara, Vida, 377. Diego Mejía de Ovando, señor de los Corbos, married doña Isabel de Zapata Chávez and died some time before 1587, when his wife remarried (Lodo de Mayorgal, Viejos linajes, 62). His nephew, Diego Velázquez Mejía y Ovando was a knight of Calatrava. Philip II made him the duke of Uceda (Memorial de Ulloa, 165r). 20. Bouza Alvarez and Alvar Ezquerra, "Apuntes biográficos," 88; royal cédula of 30 December 1595 in Martínez Quesada, "Documentación," 154. In his introduction, Martínez Quesada erroneously states that Ovando wanted to be buried in the church of Santa María ("Documentación," 146). Peña Cámara said that such a cemetery was "nada más que una fosa común" (pers. com., 1987). 21. The date is given by Lodo de Mayorgal, Viejos linajes, 185. 22. Quoted in Díaz y Pérez, Diccionario, 2:187. 23. Martínez Quesada, "Documentación," 157. 24. Ibid. The concept of saints as a person's advocates in heaven was quite strong in Spanish religion at that time. See Christian, Local Religion, 55. 25. Royal cédula of 30 December 1595 in Martínez Quesada, "Documentación," 154. 26. It is not clear when the king made this grant. It is referred to in the cédula of 30 December 1595. See Martínez Quesada, "Documentación," 154. 27. Martínez Quesada, "Documentación," 154. Bouza Alvarez and Alvar Ezquerra, "Apuntes biográficos," 88. Bouza Alvarez and Alvar Ezquerra are mistaken when they say that all the executors did the purchasing. Another source says that 1,000 pesos were contributed by the Council of the Indies and that the tombstone was delayed because one of the executors was careless or unfaithful to his task. See Colección de documentos inéditos . . . de ultramar, 14:162. It appears that the Council did not make the contribution but merely noted that the king had. 28. Martínez Quesada, "Documentación," 147.

266

NOTES TO PAGES 192–201

29. Ibid., 154. 30. Ibid., 154–55. 31. Ibid., 156–58. 32. There is a packet of documents relating to this in the archive of the Precious Blood Fathers in Madrid. Unfortunately, almost all the folios have bled through on both sides and are almost illegible. The documents contain two family trees drawn up by one of the claimants. 33. AHP, Protocolo 755, f. 431r. 34. The chapel holdings are listed in AHP, Protocolo 755, ff. 435r–37; the goods that had been sold, f. 437r–40r; the books ff. 440r–45r. The books are listed in Bouza Alvarez and Alvar Ezquerra, "Apuntes biográficos," 81–139. 35. AGS, Quitaciones de Corte, leg. 28, f. 462v. 36. AGI, Indiferente general, 738, f. 180. 37. AGI, Contratación, estado 13, caja 3, leg. 27/10, f. 233. 38. Ibid., f. 233. 39. AGS, Quitaciones de Corte, leg. 28, f. 463r. 40. Colección de documentos inéditos . . . de ultramar, 14:146. 41. AGS, Quitaciones de Corte, leg. 28, f. 462v. 42. AGI, Contratación, estado 13, caja 3, leg. 27/10, f. 233. Antonio's sons, Juan de Ovando's nephews, were Francisco de Ovando, Juan de Ovando, Martín de Aguirre Ovando, and Antonio de Ovando. 43. The contents of the library have been analyzed by Bouza Alvarez and Alvar Ezquerra, "Apuntes biográficos," 81–139. Unfortunately, they overlooked some of the most interesting and significant items in the library. 44. Bouza Alvarez and Alvar Ezquerra, "Apuntes biográficos," 90. 45. IVDJ, envío 44, caja 57, f. 152. 46. AGI, Indiferente general, f. 231. 47. See Parker, Philip II, 55; Parker, Grand Strategy, 75, 325 n.83. 48. Eliott, Spain and Its World, 147; Parker, Grand Strategy, 96–102. 49. As mentioned in chapter 1, Philip rejected the title "Majesty" (which traditionally had been applied only to God) in favor of the simple "Señor" in 1586. 50. Schäfer, El Consejo, 1:131; Lovett, "Juan de Ovando and the Council of Finance," 10. 51. Boyden, The Courtier and the King, 153. 52. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, from Seville, 6 January 1566, IVDJ, envío 57, cajas 40, 70. 53. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, from Madrid, 1 May 1575, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 91. 54. Castillo to Ovando, 9 August 1572, in Colección de documentos inéditos, 1864–84, 13:539. 55. Parker, Philip II, 125. He cites no source for this. 56. Ovando to Vázquez, from Madrid, March 27, 1575, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 80.

NOTES TO PAGES 201–202

267

57. Martínez Millán and Carlos Morales. "La administración de la gracia real," 42, 44. 58. One of the most popular current histories of Mexico has five chapters on indigenous civilizations and none on the Castilian background.

This page intentionally left blank

Bibliography

Actas de las Córtes de Castilla publicadas por acuerdo del Congreso de los Diputados á propuesta de su Comision de Gobierno Interior. Vol. 4. Madrid, 1863–1929. Alba, Duque de. “La hacienda real de España en el siglo xvi.” Boletín de la Real Academia de la Historia 80, 2 (February 1992): 162–63. Altman, Ida. “Spanish Hidalgos and America: The Ovandos of Cáceres,” The Americas 43 (January 1987): 323–46. ———. Emigrants and Society: Extremadura and Spanish America in the Sixteenth Century. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989. Aspe Ansa, María Paz. Constantino Ponce de la Fuente: El hombre y su lenguaje. Madrid: Editores Universidad Pontifica de Salamanca—Fundación Universitaria Española, 1975. Avilés Fernández, Miguel. “El Santo Oficio en la primera etapa carolina.” In Historia de la Inquisición en España y América, edited by Joaquín Pérez Villanueva and Bartolomé Escandell Bonet, 443–74. Madrid: Biblioteca de Autores Cristianos, Centro de Estudios Inquisitoriales, 1984. ———. “Motivos de crítica a la Inquisición en tiempos de Carlos V (aportaciones para una historia de la oposición a la Inquisición).” In La Inquisición española: Nueva visión, nuevos horizontes, edited by Joaquín Pérez Villanueva, 165–92. Madrid: Siglo XXI de España Editores, 1980. Bataillon, Marcel. Erasmo y España: Estudios sobre la historia espiritual del siglo XVI. Translated by Antonio Alatorre. Mexico: Fondo de Cultura Económica, 1986. Baudot, Georges. Utopia and History in Mexico: The First Chronicles of Mexican Civilizaton, 1520–1569. Niwot: University Press of Colorado, 1995. Bell, Aubrey F. G. Luis de León (A Study of the Spanish Renaissance). Oxford: At the Clarendon Press, 1925. Beltrán de Heredia, Vicente. “La teología en la Universidad de Alcalá.” Revista Española de Teología 5, no. 1 (January–March 1945): 145–78.

270

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Benítez de Lugo, Antonio. “Constantino Ponce y la Inquisición de Sevilla.” Revista de España 104 (1885): 5–26, 180–200. Boehmer, Edward. Bibliotheca Wiffeniana. Spanish Reformers of two centuries from 1520. Their lives and writings, according to the late Benjamin B. Wiffen’s plan and with the use of his materials, described by Edward Boehmer. Vol. 2. Strassburg: K. Trübner, 1874–1904. Borges, Pedro, O.F.M. “Un reformador de Indias y de la Orden Franciscana bajo Felipe II: Alonso Maldonado de Buendía, O.F.M.” Archivo Ibero-Americano: Revista Trimestral de Estudios Históricos, 2d period, 20 (1960): 281–337, 487–535; 21 (January–December 1960): 108–52. ———. “Nuevos datos sobre la comisión pontificia para Indias de 1568.” Missionalia Hispanica 16 (1959): 213–41. Bouza Alvarez, Fernando Jesús, and Alfredo Alvar Ezquerra. “Apuntes biográficos y análisis de la biblioteca de un gran estadist hispano del siglo XVI: El presidente Juan de Ovando.” Revista de Indias 44, no. 173 (1984): 81–139. Boyden, James M. The Courtier and the King: Ruy Gómez de Silva, Philip II, and the Court of Spain. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1995. Brading, David. The First America: The Spanish Monarchy, Creole Patriots, and the Liberal State, 1492–1867. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998. Braudel, Fernand. The Mediterranean and the Mediterranean World in the Age of Phillip II. 2 vols. Translated by Siân Reynolds. New York: Harper & Row, 1972. Brenan, Gerald. The Literature of the Spanish People from Roman Times to the Present Day. Cambridge: At the University Press, 1953. Burrus, Ernest, S.J. “Pius V and Francis Borgia: Their Efforts on Behalf of the American Indians.” Archivum Historicum Societatis Iesu 51 (1972): 207–26. Cabrera de Córdoba, Luis. Historia de Felipe II Rey de España. 4 vols. Madrid: Aribau, 1976–77. Carabias Torres, Ana M.a. Colegios mayores: Centros de poder; los colegios mayores de Salamanca durante el siglo XVI. 3 vols. Salamanca: Ediciones Universidad de Salamanca, Diputación Provincial de Salamanca, 1986. Carande, Ramón. Carlos V y sus banqueros: La vida económica en Castilla (1516–1556). 3 vols. Madrid: Sociedad de Estudios y Publicaciones, 1965–69. Carbia, Rómulo D. La crónica oficial de las Indias Occidentales: Estudio histórico y crítico acerca de la historiografía mayor de Hispano-América en los siglos XVI a XVIII. Biblioteca Humanidades Tomo 14. La Plata, 1934. Carlos Morales, Carlos Javier de. “Grupos de poder en el Consejo de Hacienda de Castilla: 1555–1566.” In Instituciones y élites de poder en la Monarquía hispana durante el siglo XVI, edited by José Martínez Millán, 107–36. Madrid: Ediciones de la Universidad Autónoma de Madrid, 1992. ———. “Ambiciones y comportamiento de los hombres de negocios: El asentista Melchor de Herrera.” In La corte de Felipe II, under the direction of José Martínez Millán, 379–415. Madrid: Alizana Editorial, 1994.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

271

———. “El poder de los secretarios reales: Francisco de Eraso. In La corte de Felipe II,” under the direction to José Martínez Millán, 107–48. Madrid: Alizana Editorial, 1994. Caro Baroja, Julio. Los moriscos del reino de Granada. Madrid: Instituciones Políticos, 1957. ———. Los judíos en la España moderna y contemporánea. 3 vols. Madrid: Ediciones Arion, 1961. Carrasco, M. S. El problem morisco en Aragón al comienzo del reinado de Felipe II. Valencia, 1969. Carrete Parrondo, C. El judaísmo español y la Inquisición. Madrid: Editorial MAPFRE, 1993. Castillo Pintado, Alvaro. “Los juros de Castilla, apogeo y fin de un instrumento de crédito.” Hispania 23 (1963): 43–70. Castrillo Benito, Nicolás. El “Reginaldo Montano”: Primer libro polémico contra la Inquisición española. Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, Centro de Estudios Inquisitoriales, 1991. Cedulario indiano, Recopilado por Diego de Encinas, Oficial Mayor de la Escribanía de Cámara del Consejo Supremo y Real de las Indias. Facsimile reproduction of the first edition, 1596. Study and indexes by Alfonso García Gallo. 4 vols. Madrid: Ediciones Cultura Hispánica, 1945. Chanu, Pierre. Seville et l’Atlantique (1504–1650). Partie interprétative: Structure et conjoncture de l’Atlantique espagnol et hispano-américain (1504–1650). Paris, 1959. Christian, William S., Jr. Local Religion in Sixteenth-Century Spain. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1981. Cline, Howard. “The Relaciones geográficas of the Spanish Indies.” Hispanic American Historical Review 44 (1964): 341–74. Colección de bulas, breves y otros documentos relativos a la iglesia de América y Filipinas, dispuesta, anotada e ilustrada por el P. Francisco Javier Hernáez. 2 vols. Brussels, 1879. Coleccion de documentos ineditos relativos al descubrimiento, conquista y colonización de las posesiones españolas en America y Oceania sacados, en su mayor parte del Real Archivo de Indias bajo la direccion de los S.res D. Joaquin F. Pacheco y D. Francisco de Cárdenas, miembros de varias reales academias cientificas; y D. Luis Torres de Mendoza, abogado de los Tribunales del Reino. 1st ser. 41 vols. Title and printer varies. Madrid, 1864–84. Colección de documentos inéditos relativos al descubrimiento, conquista y organización de las antiguas posesiones españolas de ultramar. Second series published by the Real Academia de la Historia. Title and printer varies. 25 vols. Madrid, 1885–1932. Colección de documentos para la historia de la formación social de Hispanoamérica, 1493–1810. Edited by Richard Konetzke. 3 vols. Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 1953. Conde de Cedillo. El Cardenal Cisneros gobernador del reino. 3 vols. Madrid: Real Academia de la Historia, 1921.

272

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Constantino, Doctor. See Ponce de la Fuente, Constantino. Contreras Contreras, Jaime. “Linajes y cambio social: La manipulación de la memoria.” Historia Social 21 (1995): 105–24. ———. “Los procesos de la estapa: Zugarramodi.” In Historia de la Inquisición en España y América, edited by Joaquín Pérez Villanueva and Bartolomé Escandell Bonet, 913–18. Madrid: Biblioteca de Autores Cristianos, Centro de Estudios Inquisitoriales, 1984. Dedieu, Jean-Pierre. “Limpieza, pouvoir et richesse: Conditions d’entrée dans le corps des ministres de l’lnquisition Tribunal de Tolède-XVIe-XVIIe siècles.” In Les sociétés fermées dans le monde Ibérique (XVIe–XVIIe s.), 169–87. Paris: Editions du Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique, 1986. ———. L’Administration de la foi: L’Inquisition de Tolède (xvie–xviiie siècle). Madrid: Casa de Velázquez, 1989. ———. “Note sur l’Inquisition.” In Les morisques et l’Inquisition, edited by Louis Cardaillac, 29–36. Paris: Editions Publisud, 1990. ———. “¿Pecado original o pecado social? Reflexiones en torno a la constitución y la definición del grupo judeo-converso en Castilla.” Manuscrits: Revista d’Història Moderna 10 (January 1992): 61–76. Delgado, Buenaventura. El colegio de San Bartolomé de Salamanca: Privilegios, bienes, pleitos, deudas y catálogo biográfico de colegiales, según un manuscrito de principios del XVIII. Acta Salmanticensia: Historia de la Universidad 41. Salamanca: Ediciones Universidad de Salamanca, Diputación de Salamanca, 1986. Descripción del arzobispado de México hecha en 1570 y otros documentos. Ed. Luis García Pimentel. Mexico City: José Joaquín Terrazas e Hijas, 1897. Descripción del Arzobispado de México. Año 1571. Vol. 3 of Papeles de Nueva España publicados de orden y con fondos del gobierno mexicano por Francisco del Paso y Troncoso, segunda serie: geografía y estadística. Madrid: Est. Tipográfico “Sucesores de Ribadeneyra,” 1905. Díaz y Pérez, Nicolás. Diccionario histórico, biográfico, crítico y bibliográfico de autores, artistas y extremeños ilustres. 2 vols. Madrid: Pérez y Boix Editores, 1884. d’Olwer, Luis Nicolau. Fray Bernardino de Sahagún (1499–1590). Mexico, 1990. Domínguez Ortiz, Antonio. La clase social de los conversos en Castilla en la edad moderna. Monografías histórico-sociales, vol. 3. Madrid: Instituto Balmes de Sociología, Departamento de Historia Social, Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 1955. ———. Los Judeoconversos en España y América. Colección Fundamentos 11. Madrid: Ediciones ISTMO, 1971. ———. The Golden Age of Spain, 1516–1659. Translated by James Casey. New York: Basic Books, Inc., 1971. Domínguez Ortiz, Antonio, and Bernard Vincent. Historia de los moriscos: Vida y tragedia de una minoría. Madrid: Biblioteca de la Revista de Occidente, 1978. Durán, Diego. The History of the Indies of New Spain. Translated, annotated, and with an introduction by Doris Heyden. Norman: The University of Oklahoma Press, 1994.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

273

Edmundson, Munro S., ed. Sixteenth-Century Mexico: The Work of Sahagún. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1974. Elliot, John. Spain and Its World, 1500–1700: Selected Essays. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1989. Entrambasaguas, Joaquín de. Grandeza y decadencia de la Universidad Complutense. Madrid, 1972. Epistolario de la Nueva España, 1505–1818. Edited by Francisco del Paso y Troncoso. 16 vols. Mexico City: Porrúa, 1939–1942. Escandell Bonet, Bartolomé. “La regulación cisneriana de los grados académicos.” In Estudios Cisnerianos: “In honorem B. Escandell Bonet collectanea dicata,” 101–11. Alcalá de Henares, Universidad de Alcalá de Henares: Institución de Estudios Complutenses, 1990. Escudero, José Antonio. Los secretarios de estado y del despacho (1474–1724). 4 vols. Madrid: Instituto de Estudios Adminstrativos, 1969. Espejo, Cristóbal, and Julián Paz. Las antiguas ferias de Medina del Campo. Valladolid: Imp. La Nueva Pincia, 1912. Espinosa Maeso, Ricardo. “Don Miguel de Carpio, tío de Lope de Vega.” Boletín de la Real Academia Española 58 (1978): 293–371. Fernández-Armesto, Felipe. “Humanist, Inquisitor, Mystic: Cardinal Jiménez de Cisneros.” History Today 38 (October 1988): 33–40. Fortea Pérez, José Ignacio. “Fiscalidad real y política urbana en la corona de Castilla en el reinado de Felipe II.” In Haciendas forales y hacienda real: Homenaje a D. Miguel Artola y D. Felipe Ruiz Martín. II En cuentro de Historia económica regional (1987), edited by Emiliano Fdez. De Pinedo, 63–79. Bilbao: Servicio Editorial Universidad del País Vasco, n.d. ———. Monarquía y Cortes en la corona de Castilla: Las ciudades ante la política fiscal de Felipe II. N.p. Cortes de Castilla y León, 1990. ———. “The Cortes of Castile and Philip II’s Fiscal Policy.” Parliaments, Estates and Representation 11, no. 2 (December 1991): 117–38. Friede, Juan. “Las Casas and Indigenism in the Sixteenth Century.” In Bartolome de las Casas in History: Toward an Understanding of the Man and His Work, edited by Juan Friede and Benjamin Keen, 127–34. DeKalb: Northern Illinois University Press, 1971. García-Abásolo, Antonio F. Martín Enríquez y la reforma de 1568 en Nueva España. Seville: Diputación Provincial de Sevilla, 1983. García Oro, José. El Cardenal Cisneros: Vida y empresas I. Madrid: Biblioteca de Autores Cristianos, 1992. García de Oro, José, and María José Portela Silva. “Visitas a la Universidad de Alcalá en vida del Cardenal Cisneros.” Archivo Ibero-Americano: Revista trimenstral de estudios históricos publicada por los PP. franciscanos 55 (July–December 1995): 5–264. Gil García, Angel. “La Universidad de Alcalá de Henares en el siglo XVII.” In La ciudad del título y el título de la ciudad, 15–31. Edición de Institución de Estudios Complutenses. Alcalá de Henares, 1987.

274

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Goldwert, Marvin. “La lucha por la perpetuidad de las encomiendas en el Perú virreinal, 1550–1600.” Revista Histórica (Peru) 22 (1955–56): 336–60; 23 (1957–58): 207–42. Gómez Rivas, León. El virrey del Perú don Francisco de Toledo. Serie I.a Monografías No. 37. Madrid: Instituto Provincial de Investigaciones y Estudios Toledanos Diputación Provincial, n.d. Góngora, Mario. El estado en el derecho indiano: Epoca de fundación (1492–1570). Santiago de Chile: Instituto de Investigaciones Histórico-Culturales, Facultad de Filosofía y Educación, Universidad de Chile, 1951. Gonsalvius Montanus, Reginaldus. Sanctae inquisitionis hispanicae artes aliquot detectae, ac palam traductae. Exempla aliquot, praeter ea quae suo quoque loco in ipso opere sparsa sunt, seorsum reposita, in quibus easdem inquisitorias artes veluti in tabulis quibusdam in ipso porro exercitio intueri licet. Addidimus appendice vice piorum quorumdam martyrum Christi elogia, qui cum mortis supplicium ob fidei confessionem christiana constantia tulerint, inquisitores eos suis artibus perfidiae ac defectionis inflamarint. Heidelberg: Michael Schirat, 1567. González, Angel Martín, S.D.B. Gobernación espiritual de Indias código ovandino, Libro 1o. Guatemala: Instituto Teológico Salesiano, 1977. González de Montes, Reginaldo. Artes de la Inquisición española. Translated by Santiago Usoz y Río. Reformistas antiguos españoles 5, edited by Luis de Usoz y Río. Madrid, 1851. González Navarro, Ramón. Universidad Complutense. Constituciones originales cisnerianas. Edición bilingüe y comentario. Estudios de los textos legislativos, su evolución y sus reformas posteriores, durante el siglo XVI. Latin texts translated by Antonio Larios and Bernaldo de Quirós. Alcalá de Henares: Taller Gráfico de Ediciones Castilla, 1984. ———. “La universidad de Alcalá de Henares en los comienzos del siglo XVI.” In L’Université en Espagne et en Amérique Latine du Moyen Age à nos jours. Edited and introduction by Jean-Louis Guereña, Ève-Marie Fell, and Jean-René Aymes. 2 vols. I. Structure et acteurs. 1:23–42. C.I.R.E.M.I.A. Série Études Hispanique, 11–12. Tours: Publications de l’Université de Tours, 1991. González Novalín, José Luis. “El cardenal Espinosa (†1572): Proceso informativo para su consagración episcopal.” Anthologia Annua 15. Rome: Instituto Español de Historia Eclesiástica, 1967. ———. El Inquisidor General Fernando de Valdés (1483–1568). 2 vols. Oviedo: Universidad de Oviedo, 1968. ———. “Reforma de las leyes, competencia y actividades del Santo Oficio durante la presidencia del inquisidor general don Fernando de Valdés (1547–1566).” In Historia de la Inquisición en España y América, edited by Joaquín Pérez Villanueva and Bartolomé Escandell Bonet, 538–56. Madrid: Biblioteca de Autores Cristianos, Centro de Estudios Inquisitoriales, 1984. ———. “Reforma de las leyes, competencia y actividades del Santo Oficio durante la presidencia del Inquisidor General don Fernando de Valdés (1547–1566).” In

BIBLIOGRAPHY

275

La Inquisición española: Nueva visión, nuevos horizontes, edited by Joaquín Pérez Villanueva, 193–217. Madrid: Siglo XXI de España Editores, 1980. Goodman, David C. Power and Penury: Government, Technology and Science in Philip II’s Spain. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1988. Gounom-Loubens, M. J. Essais sur l’administration de la Castille au XVIe siècle. Paris: Librairie de Guillaumin, 1860. Grijalva, Juan de. Cronica de la Orden de N.P.S. Agustin en las provincias de la Nueva Espana. Mexico City: Ioan Ruyz, 1624. Gutiérrez Nieto, Juan Ignacio. “La estructura castizo-estamental de la sociedad castellana en el siglo XVI.” Hispania 125 (1973): 519–63. ———. “Los humanistas castellanos ante la limpieza de sangre: algunas manifestaciones.” In Homenaje a Américo Castro, edited by José Jesús Bastos Tavar and Joseph H. Silverman, 77–89. Madrid: Universidad Complutense, 1987. Haliczer, Stephen. The Comuneros of Castile: The Forging of a Revolution, 1475–1521. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1981. Hanke, Lewis. The Spanish Struggle for Justice in the Conquest of America. Boston: Little, Brown, 1965. ———. All Mankind Is One: A Study of the Disputation between Bartolomé de Las Casas and Juan Ginés de Sepúlveda on the Religious and Intellectual Capacity of the American Indians. DeKalb: Northern Illinois University Press, 1974. Hazañas y la Rúa. Maese Rodrigo. Seville: Libería e Imprenta de Izquierdo, 1909. ———. Mateo Vázquez de Leca, 1573–1649. Seville: Imprenta y Librería de Sobrinos de Izquierdo, 1918. Hernández Franco, Juan. Cultura y limpieza de sangre en la España moderna: Puritate sanguinis. Murcia: Universidad de Murcia, 1996. Homza, Lu Ann. Religious Authority in the Spanish Renaissance. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2000. Jago, Charles. “Philip II and the Cortes of Castile: The Case of the Cortes of 1574.” Past and Present: A Journal of Historical Studies 109 (November 1985): 24–43. Jiménez de la Espada, Marcos. “Correspondencia del Doctor Benito Arias Montano con el Licenciado Juan de Ovando,” Boletín de la Real Academia de la Historia 19 (1891): 476–98. ———. El Código Ovandino. Madrid: Imprenta de Manuel G. Hernández, 1891. ———. Relaciones geográficas de Indias: Peru. Preliminary study by José Urbano Martínez Carreras. Biblioteca de Autores Españoles, vols. 183–85. Madrid, 1965. Jones, William Burwell. “Constantino Ponce de la Fuente: The Problem of Protestant Influence in Sixteenth-Century Spain.” Ph.D. dissertation, Vanderbilt University, 1965. Kagan, Richard. Students and Society in Early Modern Spain. Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 1974. ———. Lucrecia’s Dreams: Politics and Prophecy in Sixteenth-Century Spain. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1990. Kamen, Henry. Spain, 1469–1714: A Society of Conflict. London: Longman, 1983.

276

BIBLIOGRAPHY

———. Inquisition and Society in Spain in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1985. ———. “A Crisis of Conscience in Golden Age Spain: the Inquisition against ‘Limpieza de Sangre.’” In Crisis and Change in Early Modern Spain, 7:2–29. Aldershot, Hampshire: Variorum, 1993. ———. The Phoenix and the Flame: Catalonia and the Counter-Reformation. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1993. ———. “The Impact of the French Wars of Religion on a Frontier Province: Problems of Confrontation in Catalonia.” In Politics Religion and Diplomacy in Early Modern Europe: Essays in Honor of De Lamar Jensen, edited by Malcolm R. Thorp and Arthur J. Slaving. Sixteenth Century Essays and Studies 27, Charles G. Nauert, gen. ed. Kirksville, M.: Sixteenth Century Journal, 1994. ———. Philip of Spain. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1997. ———. The Spanish Inquisition: A Historical Revision. London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1997. Keen, Benjamin. “Approaches to Las Casas, 1535–1970.” In Bartolomé de las Casas in History: Toward an Understanding of the Man and His Work, edited by Juan Friede and Benjamin Keen, 3–63. DeKalb: Northern Illinois University Press, 1971. Kinder, A. Gordon. Casiodoro de Reina: Spanish Reformer of the Sixteenth Century. London: Tamesis Books, 1975. Koenigsberger, H.G. “The Politics of Philip II.” In Politics, Religion, and Diplomacy in Early Modern Europe. Essays in Honor of De Lamar Jensen, edited by Malcolm R. Thorp and Arthur J. Slaving. Sixteenth Century Essasy and Studies 27. Kirksville, Mo.: Sixteenth Century Journal, 1995. Lamb, Ursula. Frey Nicolás de Ovando, gobernador de las Indias (1501–1509). Commentary by Miguel Muñoz de San Pedro, Conde de Canilleros y de San Miguel. Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, Instituto Gonzalo Fernández de Oviedo, 1956. Lascaris Comneno, Constantino. Colegios mayores. Historical introduction by Luis Bescansa Aler. Ediciones de Cultura Hispánica. Madrid: Editorial Magisterio Español, 1952. las Casas, Bartolomé de. In Defense of the Indians. Trans. Stafford Poole, C.M. DeKalb: Northern Illinois University Press, [1974] 1992. Lea, Henry Charles. A History of the Inquisition of Spain. 4 vols. New York: Macmillan, 1906. LeFlem, Jean-Paul. “Cáceres, Plasencia y Trujillo en la segunda mitad del siglo XVI (1557–1596).” Cuadernos de Historia de España 45–46 (1967): 248–99. Levillier, Roberto. D. Francisco de Toledo, supremo organizador del Perú. Madrid: Espasa-Calpe. 1935. Lisson Chávez, Emilio, ed. La Iglesia de España en el Perú: Colección de documentos para la historia de la Iglesia en el Perú que se encuentran en varios archivos. 3 vols. Seville, 1943.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

277

Llamas y Molina, Sancho de. Comentario crítico-jurídico-literal á las ochenta y tres Leyes de Toro. 2 vols. Madrid: Imprenta de Repullés, 1827. Llorente, Juan Antonio. A Critical History of the Inquisition of Spain. [English edition, published in 1823.] Williamstown, Mass.: John Lilburne Company, 1966. Lockhart, James. The Men of Cajamarca: A Social and Biographical Study of the First Conquerors of Peru. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1972. Lodo de Mayorgal, José Miguel. Viejos linajes de Cáceres. Cáceres: Caja de Ahorras y Monte de Piedad, 1971. Lopetegui, León. “San Francisco de Borja y el plan misional: Primeros pasos de una Congregación de Propaganda Fide.” Archivum Historicum Societatis Iesu (1942): 1–26. Lovett, A. W. “Juan de Ovando and the Council of Finance (1573–1575),” Historical Journal 15, no. 1 (1972): 1–21. ———. “A Cardinal’s Papers: The Rise of Mateo Vázquez de Leca.” English Historical Review 88, no. 347 (April 1973): 1–261. ———. Philip II and Mateo Vázquez de Leca: The Government of Spain (1572–1592). Travaux d’Humanisme et Renaissance, no. 155. Geneva: Librairie Droz, 1977. ———. “The Castilian Bankruptcy of 1575.” Historical Journal 23, no. 4 (1980): 899–911. ———. “The General Settlement of 1577: An Aspect of Spanish Finance in the Early Modern Period.” Historical Journal 25, no. 1 (1982): 1–22. ———. Early Habsburg Spain, 1517–1598. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1986. ———. “The Inquisition under Close Scrutiny.” Historical Journal 32, no. 3 (1989): 709–12. Lynch, John. Spain under the Habsburgs. 2 vols. New York: Oxford University Press, 1964. Maltby, William S. Alba: A Biography of Fernando Alvarez de Toledo, Third Duke of Alba 1507–1582. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1983. Manzano Manzano, Juan. “La visita de Ovando al Real Consejo de las Indias y el Código Ovandino.” In El Consejo de las Indias en el siglo XVI, edited by Demetrio Ramos et al., 11–22. Valladolid: Universidad de Valladolid, Secretariado de Publicaciones, 1970. ———. La incorporación de las Indias a la corona de Castilla. Madrid: Ediciones Cultura Hispanica, 1948. ———. Historia de las Recopilaciones de Indias. 2 vols. Madrid: Ediciones Cultura Hispánica, 1950. Marañón, Gregorio. Antonio Pérez (El hombre, el drama, la época). 2 vols. Madrid: Espasa–Calpe, 1948. ———. Antonio Pérez “Spanish Traitor.” Translated by Charles David Ley. London: Hollis and Carter, 1954. Maravall, José A. “La formación de la consciencia estamental de los letrados.” Revista de estudios políticos 70 (July–August 1953): 53–81. Márquez, Antonio. Literatura e Inquisición en España 1478–1834. Madrid: Taurus Ediciones, 1980.

278

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Martín Hernández, Francisco. La formación clerical en los colegios universitarios españoles (1371–1563). Victoriensia 14. Publicaciones del Seminario de Vitoria. Vitoria: Editorial Eset, 1961. Martínez Cardós, José. “Las Indias y las cortes de Castilla durante los siglos XVI y XVII.” Revista de Indias 16, no. 64 (1956): 207–65; no. 65: 353–411. Martínez Carreras, José Urbano. “Estudio preliminar.” In Relaciones geográficas de Indias: Peru, edtied by Marcos Jiménez de la Espada, 183–85. Estudio preliminar de José Urbano Martínez Carreras. Madrid: Biblioteca de Autores Españoles, 1965. Martínez Millán, José. “Las élites de poder durante el reinado de Carlos V a través de los miembros del Consejo de Inquisición (1516–1558).” Hispania 168 (1988): 104–67. ———. “Las élites de poder en tiempos de Felipe II (1539–1572),” Hispania 49 (1989): 111–49. ———. “Grupos de poder en la corte durante el reinado de Felipe II: La facción ebolista, 1554–1573.” In Instituciones y élites de poder en la Monarquía hispana durante el siglo XVI, edited by José Martínez Millán, 137–97. Madrid: Ediciones de la Universidad Autónoma de Madrid, 1992. ———. “Introducción: La investigación sobre las élites del poder.” In Instituciones y élites de poder en la Monarquía hispana durante el siglo XVI, edited by José Martínez Millán, 11–24. Madrid: Ediciones de la Universidad Autónoma de Madrid, 1992. ———. “Un curioso manuscrito: El libro de gobierno del Cardenal Diego de Espinosa (1512?–1572).” Hispania 53, no. 13 (January–April 1993): 299–344. ———. “Familia real y grupos políticos: La Princesa Doña Juana de Austria (1535– 1573).” In La corte de Felipe II, edited by José Martínez Millán, 73–105. Madrid: Alizana Editorial, 1994. ———. “En busca de la ortodoxía: El Inquisidor General Diego de Espinosa.” In La corte de Felipe II, edited by José Martínez Millán, 189–228. Madrid: Alizana Editorial, 1994. Martinez Millán, Jose, ed. La corte de Felipe II. Madrid: Alizana Editorial, 1994. Martínez Millán, Jose, ed. Instituciones y élites de poder en la Monarquía hispana durante el siglo XVI. Madrid: Ediciones de la Universidad Autónoma de Madrid, 1992. Martinez Millán, Jose, and C. Javier de Carlos Morales. “La administración de la gracia real: Los miembros de la cámara de Castilla (1543–1575).” In Instituciones y élites de poder en la Monarquía hispana durante el siglo XVI, edited by José Martínez Millán, 25–45. Madrid: Ediciones de la Universidad Autónoma de Madrid, 1992. Martínez Quesada, Juan. “Documentación de la capellanía y enterramiento del Presidente Juan de Ovando,” Revista de Estudios Extremeños 14 (1958): 145–58. Martiré, Eduardo. “La política de Juan de Ovando y su actividad recopiladora.” In Historia general de España y América, 7:455–63. 19 vols. Madrid: Ediciones Rialp, 1982.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

279

Maurtúa, Víctor. Antecedentes de la recopilación de Indias: Documentos sobre la visita del Consejo de Indias por el licenciado Juan de Ovando. Madrid: Imprenta de Bernardo Rodríguez, 1906. Memorial de Ulloa, facsímil de la edición príncipe de 1675, por Francisco Sanz, en Madrid. Introducción, árboles genealógicos e índices de José Miguel Lodo Mayorgal. Badajoz: Institución Cultural “Pedro de Palencia,” Excma. Diputación Provincial. 1982. Menéndez y Pelayo, Marcelino. Historia de los heterodoxos españoles. 2d ed. 6 vols. Madrid: Librería General de Victoriano Suárez, 1911–30. Meseguer Fernández, J. “Los hechos.” In Historia de la Inquisición en España y América, edited by Joaquín Pérez Vallanueva and Bartolomé Escandell Bonet, 443–47. Madrid: Biblioteca de Autores Cristianos, Centro de Estudios Inquisitoriales, 1984. Monsalvo Antón, Juan. Teoría y evolución de un conflicto Social: El anti–semitismo en la corona de Castilla en la Baja Edad Media. Madrid: Siglo XXI, 1981. Monter, William. Frontiers of Heresy: The Spanish Inquisition from the Basque Lands to Sicily. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990. Morales Oliver, Luis. Arias Montano y la política de Felipe II en Flandes. Colección “Hispania” dirigida por el Excelentísimo Señor D. Antonio Ballesteros y Beretta. Vol. 4, ser. 5. Madrid: Editorial Voluntad, 1927. Morales Padrón, Francisco. Teoría y leyes de la conquista. Madrid: Ediciones Cultura Hispánica del Centro Iberoamericano de Cooperación, 1979. ———. “La Ciudad del Quinientos.” In Historia de Sevilla, 2d ed., edited by Francisco Morales Padrón. 7 vols. Colección de bosillo, no. 58. Seville: Publicaciones de la universidad de Sevilla. 1983. Morgado, Alonso de. Historia de Sevilla. Reprint. Seville: Sociedad del Archivo Hispalense, 1887. Muñoyerro, Luis Alonso. La facultad de medicina de Alcalá de Henares. Madrid, 1945. Muñoz de San Pedro, Miguel. El capitán Diego de Cáceres Ovando, paladín extremeño de los Reyes Católicos. Badajoz, 1952. Muro Orejón, Antonio. “Las ordenanzas de 1571 del Real y Supremo Consejo de las Indias.” Anuario de Estudios Americanos 14 (1957): 363–423. Nader, Helen. Liberty in Absolutist Spain: The Habsburg Sale of Towns, 1516–1700. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1990. Nalle, Sara. God in La Mancha: Religious Reform and the People of Cuenca, 1500–1650. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1992. Nelson, Lynn H., and Arnold H. Wiess. “An Early Life of Francisco Jiménez de Cisneros.” Franciscan Studies 42 (1982): 156–65. Netanyahu, B[enzion]. The Origins of the Inquisition in Fifteenth-Century Spain. New York: Random House, 1995. ———. Toward the Inquisition: Essays on Jewish and Converso History in Late Medieval Spain. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1997. Nueva Colección de documentos inéditos para la historia de España y de sus Indias. Publícanla Don Francisco de Zabálburu y Don José Rayon. Madrid: G. Hernández, 1896.

280

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Nuttal, Zelia. “Royal Ordinances concerning the Laying out of New Towns.” Hispanic American Historical Review 4, no. 4 (November 1921): 745–53. Orti Belmonte, Miguel. Los Ovando y Solís en Cáceres. Badajoz, 1932. ———. La vida en Cáceres en los siglos XIII y XVI al XVIII. Colección de Estudios Extremeños. Cáceres: Diputación Provincial de Cáceres, Servicios Culturales, 1949. Ortiz de Zúñiga, Diego. Anales eclesiasticas y seculares de la muy noble, y muy leal ciudad de Sevilla, Metropoli de la Andaluzia, que contienen sus mas principales memorias desde el año de 1246 en que emprendio conquistarla del poder de los moros, el gloriosissimo Rey S. Fernando Tercero de Castilla, y Leon, hasta el de 1671, en que la Catolica Iglesia le concediò el culto, y titulo de bienauenturado. Formados por D. Diego Ortiz de Zuñiga, cauallero de la orden de Santiago, natural, y originario de la mesma ciudad. Madrid: En la Emprenta Real, por Juan Garcia Infançon, 1677. Padden, Robert. “The Ordenanza del Patronazgo, 1574: An Interpretive Essay.” The Americas 12 (April 1956): 333–54. Parker, Geoffrey. Philip II. N.p.: Sphere Books, 1988. ———. The Grand Strategy of Philip II. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1998. Peña Cámara, José de la. “Nuevos datos sobre la visita de Juan de Ovando al consejo de Indias.” Anuario de historia del derecho español 12 (1935): 425–38. ———. “La Copulata de Leyes de Indias y las ordenanzas ovandinas.” Revista de Indias 6 (October–December 1941): 1–26. ———. “El manuscrito llamado ‘Gobernación espiritual y temporal de las Indias’ y su verdadero lugar en la historia de la Recopilación.” Revista de Historia de América 12 (August 1942): 5–72. Pérez Picón, Conrado, S.J. “Don Luis Méndez Quixada Presidente del Real Consejo de Indias.” In El consejo de las Indias en el siglo XVI, 89–108. Valladolid: Universidad de Valladolid, Secretariado de Publicaciones, 1970. Pérez Villanueva, J[oaquín]. “La historiografía de la Inquisición española.” In Historia de la Inquisición en España y América. Vol. 1: El conociminetos científico y el proceso histórico de la Institución (1478–1834), 2d ed., edited by Joaquín Pérez Villanueva and Bartolomé Escandell Bonet, 3–39. Madrid: Biblioteca de Autores Cristianos, Centro de Estudios Inquisitoriales, 1984. Pérez Villanueva, Joaquín, ed. La Inquisición Española: nueva visión, nuevos horizontes. Madrid: Siglo XXI de España Editores, 1980. Pérez Villanueva, Joaquín, and Bartolomé Escandell Bonet, eds., Historia de la Inquisición en España y América. Madrid: Biblioteca de Autores Cristianos: Centro de Estudios Inquisitoriales, 1984. Pike, Ruth. “Seville in the Sixteenth Century,” Hispanic American Historical Review 41, no. 1 (February 1961):1–30. Pinto Crespo, Virgilio. “Institucionalización inquisitorial y censura de libros.” In La Inquisición Española: nueva visión, nuevos horizontes, edited by Joaquín Pérez Villanueva, 513–36. Madrid: Siglo XXI de España Editores, 1980. Pizarro Llorente, Henar. “Las relaciones de patronazgo a través de los inquisidores de Valladolid durante el siglo XVI.” In Instituciones y élites de poder en la Monarquía

BIBLIOGRAPHY

281

hispana durante el siglo XVI, edited by José Martínez Millán. 223–62. Madrid: Ediciones de la Universidad Autónoma de Madrid, 1992. ———. “El control de la conciencia real: El confesor real fray Bernardo de Fresneda.” In La corte de Felipe II, edited by José Martínez Millán, 149–88. Madrid: Alizana Editorial, 1994. Ponce de la Fuente, Constantino. Suma de doctrina Christiana en que se contiene todo lo principal y necessario que el hombre Christiano deue saber y obrar. Seville, 1543. ———. Confessión de un pecador penitente, seguida de dos meditaciones de Fr. Luis de Granada. Evora, 1554. Ponce de la Fuente, Constantino, and Fray Jerónimo Gracián de la Madre de Dios. Beatus Vir: Carne de hoguera. Exposición del primer Salmo seguido de Diez Lamentaciones del miserable estado de los ateistas de nuestros tiempos. Madrid: Editora Nacional, 1977. Poole, Stafford, C.M. Pedro Moya de Contreras: Catholic Reform and Royal Power in New Spain, 1571–1591. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1987. ———. “The Church and the Repartimientos in the Light of the Third Mexican Council, 1585.” The Americas 20 (July 1963): 3–36. ———. “Church Law on the Ordination of Indians and Castas in New Spain.” Hispanic American Historical Review 61 (November 1981): 637–50. ———. “Juan de Ovando’s Reform of the University of Alcalá de Henares, 1564– 1566.” Sixteenth Century Journal 31, no. 4 (winter 1990): 575–606. ———. “The Last Years of Archbishop Pedro Moya de Contreras: 1586–1591.” The Americas 47 (July 1990): 1–38. ———. “The Politics of Limpieza de Sangre: Juan de Ovando and His Circle in the Reign of Philip II.” The Americas 55, no. 3 (January 1999): 359–89. Rábade Obradó, María del Pilar. Una élite de poder en la corte de los Reyes Católicos: Los judeoconversos. Prologue by Miguel Angel Ladero Quesada. Madrid: Sigilo, 1993. Ramírez González, Clara Inés. Grupos de poder clerical en las universidades hispánicas II: Los regulares en Salamanca y México durante el siglo XVI. Mexico City: Centro de Estudios sobre la Universidad, Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México, 2002. Ramos, Demetrio. “La Junta Magna y la nueva política.” In Historia general de España y América, 7:437–54. 19 vols. Madrid: Ediciones Rialp, 1982. Real Díaz, José Joaquín. “La política del Consejo de las Indias, durante la presidencia de don Luis Méndez Quixada.” In El Consejo de las Indias en el siglo XVI, 79–87. Valladolid: Universidad de Valladolid, Secretariado de Publicaciones, 1970. Rekers, B. Benito Arias Montano (1527–1598). London: Warburg Institute, University of London, 1972. “Relación del estado en que tiene el licenciado Ovando la visita del Consejo de Indias.” In Antecedentes de la recopilación de Indias: Documentos sobre la visita del Consejo de Indias por el licenciado Juan de Ovando, edited by Víctor Manuel Maurtúa. Madrid: Imprenta de Bernardo Rodríguez.1906.

282

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Révah, S. I. “La controverse sur les statuts de pureté de sang: un document inédit.” Bulletin Hispanique 73 (1971): 263–306. Rodríguez, Agueda María. “Pedro Farfán.” Revista de Indias 21 (July–December 1971): 221–89. Rodríguez Besne, José Ramón. “Notas sobre la estructura y funcionamiento del consejo de la Santa, General y Suprema Inquisición.” In La Inquisición española: nueva visión, nuevos horizontes, edited by Joaquín Pérez Villanueva, 61–65. Madrid: Siglo XXI de España Editores, 1980. Rodríguez O., Jaime. “The Emancipation of America.” American Historical Review 105, no. 1 (February 2000): 131–52. Roth, Norman. Conversos, Inquisition, and the Expulsion of the Jews from Spain. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1995. Roxas y Contreras, Joseph de. Historia del Colegio Viejo de S. Bartolome mayor de la celebre universidad de Salamanca. 2d pt., vol. 3. Madrid: Andres Ortega, 1770. Ruiz de Vergara y Alava. Vida del ilustrisimo señor don Diego de Anaya Maldonado, arzobispo de Sevilla, fundador del colegio viejo de S. Bartolome y noticias de sus varones excelentes. Dedicala a la Mag.d del Rey D. Felipe IV. Madrid, n.d. Ruiz Martín, Felipe. “Las finanzas españolas durante el reinado de Felipe II.” In Cuadernos de Historia, anexos de la revista Hispania 2, 109–73. Madrid: Instituto Jerónimo Zurita, C.S.I.C., 1968, Rújula y de Ochotorena, José de. Indice de los colegiales del mayor de San Ildefonso y menores de Alcalá. Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, Instituto Jerónimo Zurita. 1946. Rummel, Erika. Jiménez de Cisneros: On the Threshold of Spain’s Golden Age. Medieval and Renaissance Texts and Studies, 212. Tempe: Arizona Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies, 1999. Sala Balust, Luis. Obras completas del B. Mtro Juan de Avila. Critical ed. Biography, introduction, edition, and notes by Luis Sala Balust. Vol. 1. Madrid: La Editorial Católica. 1970–1971. Sánchez, Luis. “Memorial que dió el bachiller Luis Sanchez, residente en Chillaron de Pareja, al Presidente Espinosa, en Madrid á 26 de Agosto de 1566.” In Coleccion de documentos ineditos relativos al descubrimiento conquista y colonizacion de las posesiones espanolas en America y Oceania sacados, en su mayor parte del Real Archivo de Indias bajo la direccion de los S.res D. Joaquin F. Pacheco y D. Francisco de Cárdenas, miembros de varias reales academias cientificas; y D. Luis Torres de Mendoza, abogado de los Tribunales del Reino, 163–70. 1st ser. 41 vols. Title and printer varies. Madrid, 1864–1884. Sánchez Bella, Ismael. Dos estudios sobre el Código de Ovando. Pamplona: Ediciones Universidad de Navarra, 1987. Schäfer, Ernesto. El Consejo Real y Supremo de las Indias: Su historia, organización y labor administrativa hasta la terminación de la Casa de Austria. 2 vols. Seville: Universidad de Sevilla, Publicaciones del Centro de Estudios de Historia de América, 1935.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

283

Schwaller, John Frederick. “The Ordenanza del Patronazgo in New Spain, 1574–1600.” The Americas 42 (January 1986): 253–74. Serrano, Luciano, O.S.B., ed. Correspondencia diplomática entre España y la Santa Sede durante el pontificado de S. Pío V. 4 vols. Madrid: Junta para Ampliación de Estudios é Investigaciones Científicas: Escuela Española en Roma, Obras, 1914. Shiels, W. Eugene, S.J. King and Chruch: The Rise and Fall of the Patronato Real. Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1961. Sicroff, Albert A. Los estatutos de limpieza de sangre: controversias entre los siglos XV y XVII. Versión castellana de Mauro Armiño. Madrid: Taurus Ediciones, S.A., 1985. Simpson, Lesley Byrd, trans. The Laws of Burgos of 1512–1513: Royal Ordinances for the Good Government and Treatment of the Indians. San Francisco: J. Howell, 1960. Sobaler Seco, María de los Angeles. Los colegiales de Santa Cruz (1484–1670): Una élite de poder. [Valladolid:] Junta de Castilla y León, Consejería de Cultura y Bienestar Social, 1987. Solano, Francisco de. Cuestionarios para la formación de las Relaciones Geográficas de Indias siglos XVI/XIX. Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicos, 1988. Somolinos d’Ardois, Germán. Vida y obra de Francisco Hernández precedida de España y Nueua España en la época de Felipe II por José Miranda. Mexico: Universidad Nacional de México, 1960. Taylor, William B. Magistrates of the Sacred: Priests and Parishioners in Eighteenth-Century Mexico. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1996. Tomás y Valiente, Francisco. “Relaciones de la Inquisición con el aparato institucional del estado.” In La Inquisición Española: Nueva visión, nuevos horizontes, edited by Joaquín Pérez Villanueva, 41–60. Madrid: Siglo XXI de España Editores, 1980. Thompson, I. A. A. “Absolutism in Castile.” In Crown and Cortes: Government, Institutions and Representation in Early-Modern Castile. V. 69–229. Aldershot, Hampshire, 1993. Ulloa, Modesto. La hacienda real de Castilla en el reinado de Felipe II. Madrid: Fundación Universitaria Española, Seminario “Cisneros,” 1986. Urriza, Juan, S.I. La preclara facultad de artes y filosofía de la universidad de Alcalá de Henares en el siglo de oro 1509–1621. Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, Instituto Jerónimo Zurita, 1942. Valdeón Baruque, Juan. “Los orígenes de la Inquisición en Castilla.” In Inquisición y conversos: Conferencias pronunciadas en el III Curso de Cultira Hispano-Judía y Sefardí de la Universidad de Castilla-La Mancha celebrado en Toledo del 6 al 9 de septiembre de 1993, 35–45. Madrid, CROMOGRAF, n.d. La vida de Lazarillo de Tormes y de sus fortunas y adversidades. Edited by Julio Cejador y Frauca. Clásicos Castellanos. Madrid: Espasa-Calpe, S.A., 1962. Vigil, Ralph H. Alonso de Zorita: Royal Judge and Christian Humanist, 1512–1585. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1987.

284

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Wagner, Henry Raup, with Helen Rand Parish. The Life and Writings of Bartolomé de Las Casas. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1967. Williams, Patrick. Philip II. European History in Perspective. Houndmills: Palgrave, 2001. Zavala, Silvio A. Las instituciones jurídicas en la conquista de América, Tercera edición revisada y aumentada. México: Editorial Porrúa, 1971.

Index

Aguilera, fray Juan de, 112 Aguirre, Leonor de. See Ovando (née Aguirre), Leonor de Aguirre, Martín de, 24 Alba, Fernando Alvarez de Toledo, 7; and factionalism, 9, 11, 176 Alcalá de Henares, university of, 7, 13, 31, 36, 51, 83, 190, 194; academic disputations, 61–62; categories of students, 60; colegios menores, 60–61; confused state of records, 64–65; and conversos, 17; decline of, 76–77; examinations, 62; financial problems, 67; holidays, 74–75; humanistic nature of, 58, 62; Ovando’s reform of, 53–54, 55, 63–76, 200, 201; Ovando’s reforms in perspective, 76–77; Ovando’s revision of constitutions, 69–70; Ovando’s visitations of colegios menores, 65–66, 67; patrons, 59–60; rector, 59; reforms, 62–63; scholarships, 60; and statutes of limpieza de sangre, 69, 70–71, 77; structure and organization, 58–59; student life and discipline, 61, 74; teaching, 61, 74; tensions with the city, 67–68; theological pluralism, 58, 61, 77; visitations, 62. See also Jiménez de Cisneros, Cardinal Francisco; Limpieza de sangre; Ovando, Juan de

Alderete, Diego de. See Vázquez de Alderete, Diego Alderete, Pedro de, 27, 47 Alférez, licenciado, 122 Altman, Ida, 23 Alumbrados, 20, 81–82, 86, 91 Ambrosino (Ambrogini, Ambrosini), Santo de, 48, 49. See also Vázquez de Leca, Mateo Anaya, Diego de, 26 Aquinas, Thomas, Summa Theologiae, 73 Arce de Otálora, Juan, 88 Arias Montano, Benito, 193–94, 198; converso background, 19, 47; described, 47–48; Index expurgatorius of, 87; and Juan de Ovando, 48 Asientos, 165, 169, 179, 182, 183 Aspe Anza, María Paz, 36 Auñón, marqués of. See Herrera, Melchor de Auto de fe, 83; Valladolid, 1559, 87; Seville, 1560, 42 Avicenna, 73, 237n.112 Avila-Cortés conspiracy, 1566, 103, 118; 152. See also Separatism Ayala de Espinosa, Cristóbal, 118, 121, 123–24, 125–26, 127–28, 133, 163

286

INDEX

Balbás, Hernando de, 63, 76 Barrionuevo, Hernando de, seeks junta, 104 Barrionuevo de Peralta, 119, 120 Bataillon, Marcel, 36, 48, 57, 62, 91 Board of Trade. See Casa de Contratación Borgia, Saint Francis. See Borja, Francisco Borja, Francisco, 88, 111 Boyden, James M., 198 Brenan, Gerald, 3 Briceño, Francisco, 88 Briviesca de Muñatones, Diego, 88, 89, 103; comissary and visitador in Peru, 110–11; and Junta Magna, 130, 135; and Junta particular, 131; testimonies in visita of Council of Indies, 117–18, 119, 120, 122, 123, 125, 127 Busto de Villegas, Sancho, 91 Cabrera de Córdoba, Luis, 90, 91, 95, 96, 189 Cáceres (city), history and description, 22–23 Cáceres de Ovando, Alonso de, 47; testimony in visita of Council of Indies, 122–23 Cámara de Castilla, 6, 9 Cañete, marqués de, 120, 129, 154 Cano, Juan, 122 Carpio, Miguel de, 41, 50 Carranza, Bartolomé, 86, 87 Carrillo, Pedro, 63, 68 Casa de Contratación, 4, 29 Casas, Bartolomé de las, 20–21, 112, 132, 153, 155; and Maldonado de Buendía, 107, 108; opposition to encomienda, 109; seeks junta, 104, 129; and Junta of Valladolid, 106 Casiodoro. See Reina, Casiodoro de Castagna, Giovanni Battista, 108; on encomienda, 136; on nuncio to indies, 133; and papal commission on missions, 112, 114

Castile, Council of, 4, 6, 7, 9, 10, 32, 45, 63, 70–71, 76, 78, 79, 88, 89, 96, 139, 140, 169, 199; Ovando as president of, 189 Castro, Alvaro de, 111 Castro, Rodrigo de, 91 Cervantes de Gaete, Gaspar, 34, 96, 107 Charles III, 76 Charles V (Charles I of Spain), 3, 5, 7, 10, 16, 37, 57, 98, 119, 153; abdication, 9; fear of heresy, 86–87; finances, 162–63, 165, 170, 179, 188; patron of university of Alcalá de Henares, 59–60, 63 Chaves, Diego de, 107, 130, 132 Chinchón, Pedro de Cabrera, count of, 7, 90, 130 Christian, William S., 12 Cisneros, Francisco Jiménez de. See Jiménez de Cisneros, Cardinal Francisco Cobos, Francisco de los, and factionalism, 9, 10 Coca, harmful effects on Indians, 124–25, 129 Colegios mayores, 13; described, 25–26; and statutes of limpieza de sangre, 16. See also San Bartolomé, Colegio mayor de Comunero revolt, 56, 60 Comuneros, 7 Confesos. See Conversos Constantino, Doctor. See Ponce de la Fuente, Constantino Conversos, 14, 91; and convivencia, 14–15; in government of Philip II, 19; and limpieza de sangre, 15–20; in Seville, 32. See also Inquisition; Limpieza de sangre Copernicus, 74, 77 Corsa, Catalina, 50 Corsa, Damián, 50 Cortés, Fernando, 22, 152, Cortes of Castile, 10; and financial crises, 163, 165, 177, 178–84 Coruña, conde de, 160

INDEX

Cosmógrafo-cronista, 140, 141–42. See also López de Velasco, Juan Covarrubias y Leyva, Diego de, 174, 180, 181–182, 198. See also Cortes of Castile Dedieu, Jean-Pierre, 18 Delgado, Buenaventura, 189 Denis the Carthusian, 94, 245n.126 Deza, Diego de, 30; Inquisitor General, 81 Deza, Pedro, 52 Durán, Diego, 144 Durán, Juan, 24 Durandism, 61, 72, 77 Durandus, 72 Eboli, Prince of. See Gómez de Silva, Ruy Eboli, Princess of, and Mateo Vázquez de leca, 52 Echagoian, licenciado, 141 Egidio, Doctor. See Juan Gil Eliot, John, 8 Encomienda, 103, 118, 155, 181; disputes over, 109–11, 114; in the Junta Magna, 136. See also Native peoples Enrique IV, 7, 23 Enríquez de Almansa, Martín, 142; and the alcabala, 134; efforts to resign, 159–60; and Junta Magna, 131; and papal commission on missions, 112; viceroy of New Spain, 115 Entrambasaquas, Joaquín de, 76 Erasmianism, 81–82, 91 Erasmus, Desiderius, 37, 57, 81, 87, 194 Eraso, Francisco de, 88, 89; and factionalism, 10, 170, 175; and Junta Magna, 130–31; and Junta particular, 131 Escobedo, Juan de, 170; murder of, 175; unpopularity of, 170–71 Esperanza, Martín, 76 Espinosa, Cardinal Diego de, 9, 19, 52, 101, 175, 200, 201; bishop of Sigüenza, 90; coadjutor to Valdés, 87, 90; and Council of Finance, 170;

287

converso background, 88; death, 95, 246n.131; early life and education, 88–90; hostility to old nobility, 90–91, 198; Inquisitor General, 90, 91, 92–97; and Junta Magna, 129, 130, 132; network of relationships, 89; and papal commission on missions, 112, 114; patron of Mateo Vázquez de Leca, 51, 55; of Juan de Ovando, 54–55, 79, 199; Philip II’s favoritism toward, 90, 197; president of Council of Castile, 78, 189; rejected by Colegio Mayor de San Bartolomé, 87–88; rise to power, 11; seeks information on the Indies, 108, 109. See also Castile, Council of; Finance, Council of; Inquisition; Ovando, Juan de; Philip II; Sánchez, Luis; Vázquez de Leca, Mateo Fairs, financial. See Medina del Campo Familiares: Inquisition, 82; university of Alcalá de Henares, 60 Farfán, Pedro, 27 Feria, Gómez Suárez de Figueroa, 7; and Junta Magna, 131 Fernández de Espinosa, Juan, 175, 176, 186 Fernández de Liévana, Francisco: codification of laws of Indies, 145; and Junta Magna, 130; and Junta particular, 131 Fernández de Santaella, Rodrigo, 30 Fernando, king of Aragon, 4, 5, 7, 12, 14, 57, 202; and Inquisition, 80; regent of Castile, 56–57 Figueroa, Juan de, 10, 88 Finance, Council of, 9, 10, 11, 97, 99, 135, 184, 185, 191, 196, 201, 202; factionalism, 170–71; history and structure, 168–69. See also Ovando, Juan de; Philip II Flanders, Council of, 6 Flanders, revolt in, 102, 171, 176, 177, 182, 187, 188

288

INDEX

Fresneda, Bernardo de, and Junta Magna, 130, 132 Friede, Juan, 20 García de Castro, licenciado, 103 García de Loaysa, 30, 37, Garnica, Francisco de: and Council of Finance, 170, 173, 184, 197; and Junta Magna, 130, 131; and Junta of Presidents, 175 Genoese: control of Castilian finances, 165, 166, 183, 184; in Seville, 29 Gil, Juan (Doctor Egidio), 35, 36, 37, 42, 86; accused of heresy, 35, 39; burned in effigy, 94 Girón, Hernández, 153 Gobernación espiritual, libro de, 146, 147–50 Gómez de Acosta, Antonio, 127 Gómez de Silva, Ruy, 34; and factionalism, 10, 11, 175; royal favorite, 9; hostility to duke of Alba, 90–91; and Junta Magna, 130–31; and Junta particular, 131 Gómez Zapata: and Junta Magna, 130, 131; and Junta particular, 131 González, Angel Martín, 149, 150 González de Montes (Montano), Reinaldo, 35–36, 37 González de Munébrega, 35 González Navarro, Ramón, 62, 76 Gregory XIII, pope, 150, 189 Guevara, Niño de, 88, 89 Gumiel, Pedro, 58 Gutiérrez de Cuéllar, Francisco, 170 Guzmán, Francisco de, 107 Guzmán, Nuño de, 152 Hacienda. See Finance, Council of Haliczer, Stephen, 85 Hanke, Lewis, 153 Hazañas y la Rúa, 49 Hernández, Francisco, 142–43, 144, 175 Hernández de Liévana, Francisco, 88, 170 Herrera, Melchor de, 170, 174

Ibargüen, Fortuno de, 45–46, 54, 55 Illescas, Gonzalo de, 94 Illuminists. See Alumbrados Index of Forbidden Books, 32, 241n.48. See also Arias Montano, Benito Indians. See Native peoples Indies, Council of, 5, 6, 20, 97, 99, 104, 108, 110, 136, 142, 147, 149, 153, 170, 172, 189, 191, 192, 196, 197, 201, 202; criticisms by Maldonado de Buendía, 106; deficiencies, 114, 141; ordenanzas of, 139–40, 146; Ovando’s report to Philip II, 138; Ovando as president, 156–61; Ovando’s visita, 116–29, 139, 143, 190; papal commission on missions, 112. See also Ovando, Juan de Infantado, duke of, 59 Inquisition, 16, 200; abuses and corruption, 85; different kinds, 239n.3; finances, 84, 91, 92–93; Index of Forbidden Books, 87; in Indies, 133–34; limpieza de sangre, 17, 85; opposition to, 84–85; origins, 14, 80–81; overview of activities under Espinosa, 96–97; penalties, 83; procedures, 82–83; sodomy, 84; structure, 82; training ground for civil servants, 85–86; vigilance over books, 83, 94–95; visitas, 93; witchcraft, 83–84. See also Espinosa, Cardinal Diego de; Index of Forbidden Books; Ovando, Juan de; Suprema (Council of Inquisition); Valdés, Fernando de Isabel (queen of Castile), 4, 5, 7, 12, 14, 23, 202; and Jiménez de Cisernos, 56 Isabel of Portugal, 37 Italy, Council of, 6, 11 Jesuits, and admission of conversos, 17 Jiménez, Diego, 45 Jiménez de Cisneros, Cardinal Francisco, 12, 68; biographical data, 56–57; described, 57; founds university of Alcalá de Henares, 57–58; Inquisitor of Castile, 81

INDEX

Jones, William Burwell, 36 Juana (sister of Philip II): campaign against heresy, 87; and factionalism, 9; regent in Castile, 34 Juana la loca (daughter of Fernando and Isabel), 56 Junta Magna, 99, 112, 114, 129–37, 138, 150; agenda, 131–32; Junta particular, 131; Ovando’s evaluation of, 136–37, 197 Junta of Presidents, 99, 174–76, 177, 183; factionalism, 175; Ovando’s criticisms, 184–85, 197 Junta system of government, 99, 197; described, 11 Juros, 166–67, 183, 184, 192 Kamen, Henry, 12, 21 Keen, Benjamin, 20 Laínez, Diego, 17 Las Casas, Bartolomé de. See Casas, Bartolomé de las Lazarillo de Tormes, 3 Ledesma, Bartolomé de, 144 Ledesma, Juan de, 116, 190, 191, 192 Lepanto, battle of, 102, 171 Letrados, 4, 5, 8, 9, 10, 11, 26, 119, 121, 151, 168, 200, 201, 203; castilianization of civil service, 101; described, 7, 195, 197–98; and limpieza de sangre, 18, 198; as viceroys, 159–60, 198 Libro de gobernación espiritual. See Gobernación espiritual, libro de Limpieza de sangre, 7, 85, 200; at Colegio Mayor de San Bartolomé, 17, 18, 26; factors other than race, 18–19; opposition to statutes, 17–18; statutes of, 16–19; at the University of Alcalá de Henares. See also Conversos; Inquisition; Moriscos Lombard, Peter, Sentences, 41, 72, 73 López de Padilla, Gutierre, 170 López de Velasco, Juan, 116, 190; codification of laws of Indies, 145,

289

146; and Junta Magna, 130; and Junta particular, 131 Lovett, A. W., 49, 163, 169, 176, 186, 196 Loyola, Ignatius of, 111; and conversos, 17 Luchiano (Luciano), Isabel de, 48, 49, 50, 51 Lynch, John, 5, 52 Madre de Dios, colegio menor de, 60, 65 Maese Rodrigo. See Fernández de Santaella, Rodrigo Maldonado de Buendía, Alonso, 112, 132; early life, 104; extremism, 105–106; personality, 107–108; petitions to crown and Council of Indies, 104–106; seeks junta, 104, 108, 129; threatens Philip II, 106 Manrique, Alonso, 30, 31, 40; disgrace, 82; Inquisitor General, 81 Marañón, Gregorio, 52–53 Marranos. See Conversos Martínez Espadero, Alonso, 191, 265n.19 Martínez Millán, José, 11, 89, 201 Martínez Silíceo, Juan, 37; and statute of limpieza de sangre, 16–17, 70; opposition to statute by university of Alcalá de Henares, 70 Medimilla, Juan de, 68 Medina, Miguel de, and Junta Magna, 130 Medinaceli, Miguel de, 94 Medina del Campo, financial fair at, 165, 166, 176 Mejía de Ovando, Diego, 191, 265n.19 Menchaca, Francisco de, 88, 89; and Junta Magna, 130 Méndez de Quijada, Luis, 116, 130; and Junta particular, 131 Mendieta, Gerónimo de, 6, 144 Mendoza, Antonio, 119 Menéndez de Avilés, Pedro, 102, 158; and papal commission on missions, 112

290

INDEX

Menéndez y Pelayo, Marcelino, 36 Military Orders, Council of, 6, 47 Montalvo, Francisco de, 89 Montúfar, Alonso de, 143, 144 Monzón, Juan Bautista, 122 Morales, Francisco de, 118, 126–27, 128, 129 Morales Oliver, Luis, on Arias Montano, 48 Morales Padrón, Francisco, 154 Moreno, Juan, 24 Moriscos, 11, 14; in Seville, 29, 30, 32; revolt in the Alpujarras, 102. See also Limpieza de sangre Moya de Contreras, Pedro, 28, 142, 151, 159, 189, 199 Muñoyerro, Luis Alonso, 76 Nadal, Jerónimo, 111 Native peoples: coca addiction, 125, 129; defense of by humanitarians, 104–109; labor and exploitation, 126–29; Ovando and, 140–41, 142; Papal commission on Indies, 111–14; and policies of Philip II, 20–21, 133, 144; wars against, 152–56. See also Ayala de Espinosa, Cristóbal; Casas, Bartolomé de las; Encomienda; Indies, Council of; Junta Magna; Maldonado de Buendía, Alonso; New Laws; Ordenanzas on pacifications and settlements Navarro, Miguel, 142 Nebrija, Antonio de, 68 New Laws, 98, 109, 154, 156 Nieva, conde de, 130, 136 Nominalism, 58, 61, 72, 77. See also Durandus Obregón, Sebastián de, 36 Olmos, Andrés de, 144 Ordenanza general del patronazgo real, 146, 148, 150–52. See also Patronato real Ordenanzas on descriptions. See Relaciones geográficas

Ordenanzas on pacifications and settlements, 146, 201 Ortega de Melgosa, 110, 111 Ortiz de Zárate, Juan, 158 Ovando, Antonio de (brother of Juan de Ovando), 24, 192, 193 Ovando, Diego de, (relative of Juan de Ovando), 47, 191 Ovando, Francisco de (nephew of Juan de Ovando), 192, 193 Ovando, Juan de, 9, 11, 13, 19, 21, 198; attitude toward Inquisition, 43–44, 200; and auto de fe of 20 February 1560, 42; birth and youth, 24–25; canon of cathedral chapter of Seville, 46; and Cardinal Diego de Espinosa, 54, 55, 78, 79, 88, 89; and cathedral chapter of Seville, 33, 38–41, 44–46; character, 28; criticisms of Junta of Presidents, 184–85; death, 186, 187, 190; codification of laws of Indies, 144–46; complains about Philip II’s mode of government, 98; and Council of Castile, 189–90; and Council of Finance, 168–69, 170, 172–74; and Doctor Constantino, 38–41; education, 25–28; evaluated, 195–203; family background, 23–25; financial work evaluated, 187–88; Gobernación espiritual, 147–50; and Inquisition in Seville, 32; and Junta Magna, 129, 130, 136–37; and Junta particular, 131; and Junta of Presidents, 174–75; library, 193–95; and Mateo Vázquez de Leca, 51, 52; negotiations with Cortes of Castile, 178–84; network of relationships in Seville, 47–53; Ordenanza general del patronazgo real, 150–52; and papal commission on missions, 112, 114; president of Council of Finance, 176–88, 189, 190–91; president of the Council of the Indies, 96, 115, 156–61, 172, 190; provisor of Seville, 33, 46–47, 50, 53, 55; provisor and inquisitor, 34, 35; reform of the university of Alcalá de

INDEX

Henares, 53, 55, 63–76, 190; Relaciones geográficas, 140–44; reorganizes chairs of university of Alcalá de Henares, 71–72; seeks office of Inquisitor General, 96–97; on the Suprema, 86–87, 91, 94; visita of Council of Indies, 95, 97, 114, 116–29, 138; visitation of colegios menores, 65–66, 67; will, 192–93. See also Alcalá de Henares, university of; Cortes of Castile; Espinosa, Cardinal Diego de; Finance, Council of; Indies, Council of; López de Velasco, Juan; Philip II; Ponce de la Fuente, Constantino (Doctor Constantino); Valdés, Fernando de; Vázquez de Leca, Mateo Ovando, Juana de, 24 Ovando (née Aguirre), Leonor de, 24, 25 Ovando, Nicolás de (governor of Española), 24 Ovando, Nicolás de (relative of Juan de Ovando), 47, 78, 88 Ovando de Cáceres, Diego, (the elder), 23, 191 Ovando de Cáceres, Diego, (the younger), 24 Ovando y Torres, Diego, 192–93 Pacifications and settlements, ordenanzas on. See Ordenanzas on pacifications and settlements Padden, Robert, 21 Padilla y Meneses, Antonio de, 175, 288; and Junta Magna, 130 Paredes, Sancho de, 24 Parker, Geoffrey, 102, 200 Patronato real, 125; described, 14 Paul III, pope, 86 Paul IV, pope, 34, 167; and limpieza de sangre, 17 Peña Cámara, José de la, 145, 154 Pérez, Antonio, 19, 52, 100, 101, 175 Pérez, Hernán, 88 Pérez, Isabel, 49

291

Philip II, 5, 6, 7, 9, 10, 12, 17, 30, 37, 43, 48, 53, 78, 95–96, 104, 138, 149, 160, 191, 192, 193, 199; administrative reforms, 103–104; and Arias Montano, 48; and Cortes of Castile, 178–79, 180; councils, 98–99; criticisms by humanitarians, 104–109; defender of Inquisition, 85, 86; and encomienda, 110; exploitation of Indians, 20–21, 156; extent of domains, 102; favoritism toward Espinosa, 90; fear of heresy, 286–87; and Fernando de Valdés, 34–35; financial crises, 163–63, mode of government, 8–9, 98–100, 123, 157, 184, 190, 196, 200, 202; Ordenanzas on pacifications and settlements, 153; Ordenanza real del patronazgo real, 150, 151; and papal commission on missions, 112–13; and patriarchate of Indies, 133; personality, 21; policy toward Indies, 20; and Relaciones geográficas, 142; secretaries, 100–101; threats to his empire, 102–15; unofficial advisers, 99–100; and Vázquez de Leca, 100–101; and visita of Council of Indies, 138, 139, 168, 169, 170, 171, 173, 174, 175–78, 188 Pius IV, Pope, 167 Pius V, Pope, 108, 168, 171; instruction on missions, 113–14; and nuncio to Indies, 133; establishes papal commission on missions, 111, 112 Pizarro, Francisco, 1, 152 Pizarro, Gonzalo, 121 Polanco, Juan Alonso de, 17, 111 Ponce de la Fuente, Constantino (Doctor Constantino), 35–44, 86, 94, 200; accusation of marriage, 39, 40, 43, 44; of bigamy, 42, 43, 44; arrested by Inquisition, 41; burned in effigy, 94; death, 42; differing views of, 35–36; early life and education, 36; fame as a preacher, 37; rumors of suicide, 42. See also Ovando, Juan de; Seville, cathedral chapter of; Valdés, Fernando de

292

INDEX

Ponce de León, Pedro, 95 Portugal, Council of, 6 Ptolemy, 74 Puga, Vasco de, Cedulario, 145, 194 Purity of blood statutes. See Limpieza de sangre Quiñones, Juan de, 63, Quiroga, Gaspar de, 96; and Junta Magna, 130 Ramos, Martín, 63, 64 Ramus, Pierre, 94, 95 Reina, Casiodoro de, 94, 95, 245n.122 Relaciones geográficas, 115, 140–44, 201, 202 Repartimiento, 108. See also Encomienda Robles, Diego de, 129 Rodríguez, Juana, 24 Rodríguez de Fonseca, Juan, 4, 152 Roth, Norman, 18 Royal council. See Castile, Council of Sahagún, Bernardino de, 142, 144 Salazar de Villasante, 122; testimonies in visita of Council of Indies, 118, 120, 121 Salcedo, Andrés de, 45 San Bartolomé, Colegio mayor de, 19, 32, 191, 198; banned conversos, 17, 18, 26; history of, 26; Juan de Ovando at, 25–28; life at, 25–28. See also Anaya, Diego de; Ovando, Juan de Sánchez, Elvira, 24 Sánchez, Luis, 129; report on status of the Indies, 108–109, 134 Sánchez Bella, Ismael, 154, 156 Sánchez Zumel, Pedro, 38, 40–41, Sancho, Francisco, 88 San Ildefonso, Colegio mayor de, 58, 64, 66; and colegios menores, 61; decline, 76–77; discipline, 74; legitimacy of applicants, 70; rector of, 59. See also Alcalá de Henares, university of

Santa Balbina, colegio menor de, 60, 66 Santa Catalina, colegio menor de, 60, 65 Santa Cruz, Pedro de, 71 Santa María de Jesús, Colegio de, 30, 36 Santillán, Hernando, 122 Santos Justo y Pastor, collegiate church of, 58 Schäfer, Ernesto, 196 Scotism, 58, 61, 72, 77 Separatism: fear of, 117, 143, 144; in New Spain, 118, 152; in Peru, 152. See also Avila–Cortés conspiracy Sepúlveda, Juan Ginés de, 153 Seville, 9, 51; archdiocese of, organization, 30; cathedral chapter of, 31–32, 33–34; Inquisition in, 32; in sixteenth century, 29–32 Silíceo. See Martínez Silíceo, Juan Sixtus IV, pope, 80 Solano, Juan, 112 Soto, Hernando de, 152 Soto Salazar, 50; member of Suprema, 91; visita of Inquisition of Murcia, 93; State, Council of, 6, 11, 99 Suprema (Council of Inquisition), 6, 9, 11, 35, 41, 42, 80, 88, 92–93; Espinosa named president, 91; established, 81; Ovando as member, 189, skepticism about witchcraft, 83. See also Inquisition; Valdés, Fernando de Tello de Sandoval, Francisco, 27; accusations against, 119–20, 122; president of Council of Indies, 116 Teresa of Avila, 12, 107 Thomism, 61, 72, 73, 77 Toledo, Antonio de, and Junta Magna, 131 Toledo, Francisco de, 154; and Junta Magna, 130, 133, 134; papal commission on missions, 112; viceroy of Peru, 115 Toro, battle of, 23

INDEX

Torquemada, Tomás de, 81 Torregosa, Luis, 172 Trent, Council of, 11, 12, 13, 86, 133, 199 Trilingüe, colegio menor, 60, 61, 66 Uzquiano de Uzquiano, Andrés, 66, 76 Vaca de Castro, Antonio, 125 Valdés, Fernando de, 27, 28, 78, 198, 200; appointed Inquisitor General, 86; archbishop of Seville, 30, 33–35, 86; attempts to keep Ovando in Seville, 53–54; campaign against Erasmianism, 86–87; campaign against heterodoxy, 86–87; and Cardinal Espinosa, 54–55; Espinosa named coadjutor, 87, 90; conflicts with cathedral chapter of Seville, 33–35, 43; and the Constantino affair, 37–38; early life, 32–33; and Erasmianism in Seville, 42; exploits fear of heresy, 34–35; and factionalism, 9; fall from royal favor, 34–35; and illuminism, 20; issues Index of Forbidden Books, 1559, 87; nepotism of, 44, 45; and Niño de Guevara, 89; reorganizes Inquisition, 87; replaced by Espinosa as Inquisitor General, 91; skepticism about witchcraft, 83. See also Inquisition; Ovando, Juan de; Suprema (Council of Inquisition) Váquez, Bartolomé, 120 Vargas Carvajal, Diego de, 110, 111 Vázquez Dávila, Melchor, 120 Vázquez de Alderete, Diego, 27, 47, 89, 199; patron of Mateo Vázquez de Leca, 49, 51, 52

293

Vázquez de Arce, Juan: defends Philip II against Las Casas and Maldonado de Buendía, 106–107; and Junta Magna, 130; and Junta particular, 131; praised, condemned, 120 Vázquez de Leca, Mateo, 9, 19, 47, 79, 89, 95, 158, 186, 198, 200, 201, 202, 203; biographical data, 49–51; and Cardinal Espinosa, 51–52, 78, 88; and Council of Finance, 170, 173, 174, 176; and Diego Vázquez de Alderete, 49, 50, 51; dubious origins of, 48–51; hostility toward, 52–53; and Juan de Ovando, 48, 189, 190, 199; and Junta Magna, 132; and Junta of Presidents, 175, 185; and reform of the university of Alcalá de Henares, 63, 68; secretary to Philip II, 52, 100–101, 247n.10 Vázquez de Leca, Mateo (supposed nephew of royal secretary), 47, 51 Vázquez de Luchiano, María, 49, 51 Vázquez de Molina, Juan, 10, 170 Vega, Hernando de, 27, 91 Velasco, Luis de, 145 Velasco, Martín de, 175 Veneto, Giorgio, 94, 245n.120 Veracruz, Alonso de la, 104 Zamora, Alfonso de, 45 Zapata de Cárdenas, Juan, 88 Zavarte, Martín de, 68 Zumel, Pedro. See Sánchez Zumel, Pedro Zúñiga, Gaspar de, 63 Zúñiga, Juan de, 111, 112