Philip of Spain

by Henry Kamen

  The settlement reached at the Cortes brought peace to Aragon but did not reassure the eastern realms. Castilians began to boast that they had ‘conquered an enemy kingdom’,149 a consoling achievement at a time when they were everywhere in retreat. The official Castilian version of events spoke of a ‘revolt of Aragon’, a clear distortion of what had happened.150 There was corresponding pressure among the ruling class of Aragon to give voice to their version. None of this helped to create understanding between Castile and its neighbours; if anything, it continued to foment suspicion. Two contemporaries, the count of Luna in Aragon and the noble Francesc Gilabert in Catalonia, pointed out that in the long view the troubles had arisen because of Castile's erroneous policies towards the rest of Spain.151

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  The Castilian Cortes happened to be in session in 1588 when news of the Armada disaster came through. This helped powerfully to persuade its members to vote to the crown, by a two to one vote in February 1589, one of the most notorious taxes of the century, the millones (so called from its value in the monetary unit of maravedis). Details were formally agreed in April 1590. For the first time, a tax was levied directly on basic food items such as wine, oil, vinegar and meat. Hostility to the millones was widespread. Philip was not unaware of the injustice of the new taxes, imposed according to census figures which were (the king admitted) fifty years out of date.152 In Madrid in the spring of 1591 there was a threat of riot. Witnesses said that up to 2,000 people were involved.153 The city magistrates managed to control the situation, arrested the ringleaders and hanged some of them.154 At the end of June in Seville leaflets were being distributed. The king urged his ministers to look into the matter ‘before it gets out of control’.155 In Avila in October 1591 seditious papers were found fixed to the main public buildings. ‘Spain, Spain,’ they said, ‘look to yourself and defend your liberty; and you, Philip, be satisfied with what is your own and do not claim what is another's.’156 Seven people were arrested for the offence. One, the noble Diego de Bracamonte, was executed four months later. The tax burden made even the king's confessor advise him to desist from pressing the towns too far.157

  When the troubles in Saragossa broke out, on top of the tensions in Castile, it appeared that the whole peninsula might fall apart. Philip's caution was certainly motivated by awareness of the risks. In November 1591, in a last-minute plea to the government to avoid the use of force in Aragon, the duke of Gandía, the principal grandee of Valencia, commented that

  if this matter of Aragon should reach breaking-point I would not count much on those in Castile, for not only are those who have complaints about the burdens and taxes of these last few years happy to spread it around by word of mouth, they even publish it with posters that they have put up in Seville and Avila; and you know the disturbance they caused in Madrid. I also beg you to consider what assurance there is that the Portuguese stay quiet, and how things are going in Italy. The affairs of Flanders, France and England speak for themselves on the little need the king has to seek another war.158

  The duke had good reason for caution. In Madrid there were many critics of the king who were actively (reports a historian of the time who preferred not to name names) ‘hostile to the current situation, which they considered wretched’.159 The right to express dissent had always been accepted, but the severity to those in Avila appeared to take away the right. Even in Castile the execution of the justiciar appeared to some to be unwarranted. ‘Everybody,’ observed a monk of the Escorial, ‘criticised such cruelty.’160

  The last Castilian Cortes of the reign convened in the first week of May 1592. It held periodic sessions over the next few years, and was still in existence when Philip III succeeded to the throne. As in previous Cortes, negotiations were often carried out in committee rather than in plenary sessions. In a committee of the Cortes in May 1593 a deputy for Burgos, Jerónimo de Salamanca, laid the blame for the current situation squarely on the wars. ‘That in Flanders began twenty-seven years ago, and has shown little sign of improvement until now.’ The wars had ‘allowed our enemies to seize all the riches that have come from America, as well as the substance of these realms’.161 In a clearly concerted move, similar speeches were made by the deputies for Seville and Cuenca, and by the deputy for Madrid, Francisco de Monçón. Two weeks later, on 20 May, the tax proposals of the government were put to the vote of the full Cortes. One-third of the thirty-three deputies present followed Salamanca in refusing approval.

  This last Cortes of the reign made striking constitutional claims. The desired taxes were duly voted, but in return the deputies demanded that since the taxes were exceptional, they must be treated less as taxes than as a contractual grant. ‘It must be a mutual contract between His Majesty and the realm … It is a real contract.’162 They took their demands to further unprecedented lengths. While the Cortes was in session, the king should make laws only through it. Laws made through the Cortes should be revocable only by the Cortes. New taxes should be voted only by the Cortes.163 The claims were unparalleled in the Europe of their day.

  These crisis years had a direct impact on the standard of living. From Mexico a settler wrote back to her brother begging him to come over from ‘that poverty and need which people suffer in Spain’.164 Philip was not blind to the growing distress among his subjects. Armada year marked the beginning of a run of lean years. In the early months of 1588 the influx of transients into the capital provoked concern. A suggestion was made that the city should have a police force to patrol the streets. ‘Having men in the streets,’ the king noted, ‘is a very good idea.’ Then he recalled that he had seen it in practice. ‘It is done in England, I saw it there and it works well.’165 In May 1589 the king commented that ‘I am most concerned about the poor harvest this year and what I have seen these days of the countryside … The shortage can be seen already …’. He ordered an examination of food stocks. At the same time, ‘it is days since I wrote to Sicily to find out what they have there’. Sicily was the wheat supplier to which Spaniards always turned in an emergency. In the autumn of 1590 the king was alarmed by the food situation in the capital: ‘they say there is great trouble in Madrid about the bread shortage, which is like nothing seen before’.166 He had heard that his officials were seizing the bread for themselves, ‘and that they care little for the poor, who are dying of hunger’. He was indignant and ordered an inquiry.167

  His concern for the poor was demonstrated in sporadic help for schemes of poor relief put forward at the time.168 He commissioned a report from one of the doctors of the court, Cristóbal Pérez de Herrera. While preparing his study, the latter in about 1594 struck up a friendship with a writer, Mateo Alemán,169 who was then living in Madrid and was interested in the same problem. Pérez de Herrera's work, the Relief of the Poor, was published in a definitive form in 1598. Alemán the year after published his novel Guzmán de Alfarache, one of the most famous of satires on the life of the poor in Golden Age Spain.

  In Portugal the discontent with a Castilian regime surfaced continually. In the 1590s there were various clashes with the Castilian soldiers there. In 1591 a Castilian friar living in Portugal reported that the situation was intolerable but that those in authority seemed not to care. ‘Don Cristobal is blind and the king even more, God enlighten them. The king is not told what is going on.’170 In 1593 ‘offensive papers exhorting the people to rise’ were found in towns of the Alemtejo. The leaflets complained of Philip that ‘he treats his subjects intolerably; the towns must rise and seek another king’.171 There were continuous incidents. The Venetian ambassador to Madrid reported in 1596 that ‘the Portuguese are natural foes of the Castilians and are almost daily at blows with them’.172

  The other realms of the monarchy were also having problems. Sicily in 1590–1 suffered severe harvest failures, in common with much of southern Italy.173 In 1592 there were disorders in the city of Messina.174 That same year there were attempts to provoke a rising in Naples. The crisis of authority was not limited to E
urope. In the New World dissatisfaction with Spanish control provoked the city of Quito to rebel in 1592. ‘To conquer these realms of Peru,’ the city council protested, ‘His Majesty did not have to make any contribution. The land was won by those who came over at their own expense.’175 The authorities played for time, and eventually the viceroy had to send in armed forces to suppress the rebellion.

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  In the Netherlands the position of Parma had worsened as a result of the Armada failure. The great period of convincing victories was followed by one of stalemate. In August 1589 the first of a new spate of serious mutinies in the Spanish army took place. Criticism of the general became more audible as no further victories materialised. Parma attempted to persuade the Spanish government to make a political settlement based on religious concessions. In the autumn of 1589 he sent to Madrid the president of the Netherlands council of State, Jean Richardot, who brought a general proposal for peace covering all the areas where Spain was in conflict. The crucial aspect was the proposal for partial religious toleration by both sides in the Netherlands.176

  Philip discussed the paper with Moura and Juan de Idiáquez. The proposal, the ministers summed up, was that ‘if those there [in rebel Holland and Zealand] for their part allow the public exercise of our faith, His Majesty will allow and tolerate the public exercise of their erroneous opinions in a few select towns’. It was an indication of how far the situation had changed that both king and ministers were now prepared to mention the forbidden word ‘tolerate’. Even more significant, they agreed that it was no longer Spain's objective to reconquer the rebel provinces. The ministers stated that ‘to seek to conquer them by force is to talk of a war without end, for which there are neither lives nor money sufficient’. Accepting the concession might seem, they said, a blow to Spain's honour, its reputación. But was reputación worth preserving at the cost of the souls that might be saved by acceptance? Philip agreed entirely with all this. ‘It would be very good to achieve by this means all that is offered.’ But, he said, the council must also be consulted; and in any case he could not make any decision without consulting the pope. While they waited for the pope to look at the question, the war dragged on.

  Philip's reluctant conversion to the possibility of toleration for his northern subjects showed that he was, at last, ready to recognise the logic of reality. At the end of 1590 the emperor, Rudolf II, began to organise peace talks along the lines of those held at Cologne in 1579. This time the meeting, which took place in 1591, was in Vienna. The king's spokesman was his ambassador there, Guillén de San Clemente. Philip insisted that the papal nuncio preside in order to give legitimacy to the concession of toleration ‘for a limited time’ in return for the submission of Holland and Zealand.177 The concession, a big one for Philip, was not enough to achieve peace.

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  The threatened succession of Henry of Navarre to the French crown dominated Spain's foreign policy in the last decade of the reign. The papacy attempted to tread carefully in French affairs, since there were active Catholics on both sides of the civil wars. Philip suspected Rome of supporting the new heretic king. When informed that two of the French cardinals had recognised Henry as heir, he commented indignantly: ‘These are splendid cardinals of the Church. Rome is to blame for creating them.’178 Spain's policy was straightforward: a Protestant ruler in France posed a direct threat to the Netherlands; everything must accordingly be done to oppose Henry of Navarre. To this end, the Catholic League must be supported. But Philip was not convinced that further bloodshed would end the war, and resolutely opposed intervention. He supported a common front of all groups: ‘unite both sides, good and bad,’ he wrote to his daughter Catalina in 1590, ‘and follow the path that causes least conflict.’179

  In fact, Catalina's husband the duke of Savoy was an unnecessary complication in the picture. In the autumn of 1588 he invaded the territory of Saluzzo, to which he had claims. Other Italian states, particularly the papacy, became alarmed. Carlo Emanuele also made no secret of his claims to parts of French territory. Philip had to try and soothe the protesting powers, while at the same time sorting out his own policy over France.

  The situation within France spoke for itself. Navarre's forces, though small, were ably led. In the spring of 1590 they marched on Paris. The way was blocked by the forces of the League, aided at the last moment by a relief force sent from Flanders by Parma. At Ivry, in March, Henry won perhaps the most famous of his victories over the joint Catholic army. Paris lay wide open. At the end of April the siege of the capital began.

  Four months of siege created inhuman conditions in Paris. They also forced Philip to take the step he had tried to avoid. In May he sent special instructions to his representatives in France, declaring that he was ordering Parma in. Early in August 1590 Parma crossed the frontier and forced Navarre to raise the siege at the end of the month. Philip in no way intended any more than a one-off intervention. The real military task was to remain in the hands of Mayenne and the League army.

  From the first, the king knew that only a political solution was the answer. Yet there was no clear Catholic choice for the crown of France. The one acceptable candidate, the cardinal of Bourbon, died in May 1590, shortly after Spain decided to intervene. Another possibility was the young duke of Guise. But Philip had his own candidate, whom he offered from the very start in order to set matters straight. He had had lawyers working on the problem for some time. They had assured him (he told his agents in France) that ‘the Infanta my eldest daughter has a well-grounded right’ to the throne, as granddaughter of Henry II.

  Philip's chief agents in France were Jean Baptiste Tassis and Bernardino de Mendoza. Philip's instructions to them show that he considered the throne to be the key.180 The agents must fully back Mayenne, even though he was not to be trusted. The candidature of the Infanta should be broached tactfully, at all levels. Tassis should visit Guise at his home in Lorraine, offer him military help from Flanders and the Golden Fleece. In return, Guise might refrain from offering himself for the throne. Of course, if all else failed then ‘the candidature of the duke of Guise is also acceptable’. Meanwhile, the Catholics must be kept divided so they didn't reach any agreement (that is, in favour of Navarre). They must be told not to trust the promises made to them.

  While Philip's agents began to spread the message, France was falling into chaos. Philip felt it necessary to make minor interventions. A small force of Spanish troops was sent into Languedoc in July 1590, to help the French Catholic League. This aid vanished when the events in Aragon forced Philip to concentrate his troops south of the border, to repulse attacks from Antonio Pérez's allies in Béarn. Another force under Juan de Aguila was sent by sea from Coruña in September 1590 to help the League's duke of Mercoeur in Brittany. The military intervention was meant to be a strictly limited exercise, until a political solution could be found.

  At first, few French Catholic leaders accepted the reassurances of the king of Navarre. Most rallied to the Catholic League, led by Mayenne. There were other foreign interventions. The duke of Lorraine made incursions into France from the north. On the eastern frontier Carlo Emanuele exploited the confusion to invade Provence in the autumn of 1590. Regions and provinces split up; some even threatened to secede from France. Among the separatists were the civic leaders of the city of Marseille, France's chief Mediterranean city. In Paris extremist members of the League set up a virtual commune.

  At the end of 1590 the duke of Savoy came to San Lorenzo to consult with Philip. The visit led to the holding in Madrid, in April 1591, of a high-level conference between Philip, Savoy and representatives of Marseille and the League. Various possible solutions to the conflict were mooted. ‘All of this,’ the king mused, ‘is in a terrible state if God does not produce a remedy, since the cause is his.’181 He agreed to finance a task force in the Mediterranean. Savoy left Madrid at the end of May 1591, passing rapidly through Saragossa which was in upheaval as a result of the Antonio Pérez troubles. He
left Barcelona with the promised Spanish fleet in July, and captured the royalist fortress of Berre. But by the autumn the complex politics of Provence collapsed into turmoil. At the end of March 1592 Carlo Emanuele withdrew his forces. Marseille struggled on alone against the royalists. It sent a delegation of three to Philip in the Christmas of 1595; in response Andrea Doria's fleet and two Spanish companies came to relieve the besieged city.182

  However, no credible political alternative to Henry of Navarre emerged. Philip consequently found himself being sucked into a conflict that prolonged itself for six more long and expensive years. In August 1591 Parma was once again ordered to enter France, this time to relieve Rouen, besieged by Navarre and English auxiliaries. The seige was raised the following April, but Parma was seriously wounded during the campaign and taken back to the Netherlands in a litter. He never fully recovered. When ordered to lead yet another intervention in France, in November 1592, he left Brussels so unwell ‘that he kept falling off his horse’.183 Long before then, Philip had decided to withdraw him. The king seems to have been unhappy over differences of policy, and over the direction of affairs in Brussels, run ‘by persons little known over here’.184 In the summer of 1592 he sent an army veteran, the count of Fuentes, Pedro Enríquez de Guzmán, to replace him. Fuentes arrived in Brussels at the end of November. Just over a week later, on 3 December, the duke of Parma died in France of his wounds, unaware that he had been relieved of his command.