[192] Vagabonds, beggars, rogues (pícaros), ruffians, prostitutes, and thieves abounded in sixteenth-century Seville, where they represented an organized group with a language of their own (germanía) and a large number of well defined methods and traditions. ⁽¹⁾ Such a city, overflowing with wealth, vice, and poverty, presented the most favorable conditions for the shelter and protection of vagrants and lawbreakers of every sort. With a large population and an exceedingly lax and corrupt municipal government, the town was filled with all types of disreputable elements. Disorder and confusion reigned. Criminals could usually escape the law by moving from one district to another or even by fleeing to the Indies. Law officials and criminals often worked together -- many police officers were like Cervantes' "constable in charge of vagabonds," who, according to the thieves' chieftain, "was a friend and never came to do us harm." Thieves' jargon was used in common speech throughout the city, and everyone went about armed for protection. ⁽²⁾ Faced with so many disorderly and criminal elements, the city government was hard put to maintain order.

[193] Regardless of their numbers we know very little about the gente del hampa, or underworld, for available sources are few and incomplete. Judicial records are practically nonexistent and the notarial deeds, the source of so much information on the social life of Seville, are silent on such marginal and transient beings whose style of life and meager possessions did not require formal recording. What fragmentary information remains comes mainly from literary works and municipal legislation. Literary sources are especially valuable, for Cervantes and other Golden Age writers described in vivid tones those colorful individuals who occupied the lower depths of Sevillian society during this period.

Although contemporary authorities customarily included all undesirables in one comprehensive term -- vagabond -- and legislated against them as such, the Sevillian hampa was not a homogeneous class. Undoubtedly these delinquent elements had much in common; they all shared the same desire to live without working and freely borrowed each other's methods and tricks, but there were important differences. Two main groups can be delineated: the vagabonds and beggars, on the one hand, and the professional criminals (thieves, murderers, and the like), on the other. Vagrants and beggars roamed the city and surrounding countryside begging and stealing in turns. They included both harmful and harmless types and were divided into orders and ranks depending on experience, methods of begging and stealing, and even physical strength. Among the most common were the sham beggars -- those who pretended to be blind, lame, mute, mad, or afflicted with some dread disease like palsy. Some excited compassion by means of artificial sores, like the beggar in Quevedo's [194] Buscón who "had a huge false hernia and used to tie a rope right around his upper arm so that it looked as though his hand was all swollen up as well as paralyzed and inflamed at the same time." ⁽³⁾ Others posed as redeemed captives, false soldiers and sailors, and musicians.

There are no reliable figures for the number of vagrants and beggars in Seville. A few contemporary estimates of the vagabond population at different times are available, but most seem to be mere guesses. The figures most often mentioned date from 1597 when the reforming Asistente, Count of Puñonrostro, decided to reduce their numbers through a system of municipal licensing. He ordered all the city's beggars to present themselves at the Hospital de la Sangre on April 29 of that year to obtain their permits. According to the chronicler Ariño, two thousand men and women appeared; they included the strong and healthy as well as the old and sick, the maimed and deformed. Only the aged and the physically deformed were granted licenses; the sick were sent to the hospital, and the rest were ordered to find work within three days or be flogged and put out of the city by force. ⁽⁴⁾ Unfortunately, there is no way to determine whether or not these figures are the result of a direct count or are a guess on the part of municipal officials, or even Ariño. Nor do they include part-time beggars -- in reality unemployed unskilled workers for whom begging was a temporary resort only.

In addition to vagrants and beggars, Seville harbored a [195] class of professional criminals more numerous than in any other city in Spain during this period. The most typical representatives of this group were the ruffians or bullies (jácaros, rufos), who at their lowest level were nothing more than hired thugs and professional assassins. Their principal activities consisted of inflicting punishment for pay -- murders, cuts, cudgeings, ink throwings, and the nailing of horns over the doors of cuckolds. The ruffians also acted as procurers (they held the door of the brothel open for customers they had procured) and lived off the earnings of prostitutes. Literary sources further indicate that they often were employed in playing the enraged husband who clamored for reparation from an unlucky victim found with his pretended wife. With sword in hand, threatening murder in revenge for the wrong done to their honor, they forced the culprit to hand over all his money to save his life and reputation. Don Martín, in Agreda y Vargas' Novelas morales, had such a trick played on him in Seville. ⁽⁵⁾

The Sevillian bullies were especially noted for their valor and arrogance. They had their own code of honor, the first provision of which was to resist all forms of "grilling" rather than reveal the names of accomplices. Torture added prestige to the virtues of valentía or "toughness" and even the specter of death at the end of the hangman's noose could not move them. No wonder there was coined the popular expression, "they go to their death as if they were going to their wedding." ⁽⁶⁾ Cervantes, who had a good knowledge of these Sevillian ruffians, describes them [196] as follows: "Among the latest arrivals were a couple of swaggering young ruffians with large mustaches, broad brimmed hats, walloon ruffs, colored stockings and large showy garters. Their swords exceeded the length allowed by law, each carried a brace of pistols in place of daggers and their bucklers were suspended from their belts." ⁽⁷⁾ Among the most notorious of these bullies were those of the San Román parish and the Feria quarter. ⁽⁸⁾

Regardless of their notoriety and bravado, ruffians represented only a small group within the ranks of the underworld, for the majority of criminals in Seville were thieves. There were many kinds -- a dozen or more categories (all bearing fantastic cant names) were described by Dr. Carlos García in his Desordinada codicia de los bienes agenos (1609). Among the most common were the cortabolsas (cutpurses), duendes (hobgoblins or sneak thieves), and grumetes (cat thieves). There were also capeadores (cloaksnatchers), mayordomos who stole provisions, and even a class of religious thieves called devotos who despoiled images. ⁽⁹⁾ Both thieves and ruffians belonged to so-called thieves' fraternities, one of which, presided over by Monipodio, was so vividly described by Cervantes in Rinconete y Cortadillo. These criminal associations were organized [197] along the lines of medieval guilds with masters and apprentices, rules, and registers. The Sevillian brotherhood, according to Luis Zapata in his Miscelánea, "had a prior and consuls (the names being an obvious parody of the Seville Merchants Guild or Consulado) with a depository for stolen goods and a chest with three keys in which the loot is kept." ⁽¹⁰⁾ Guild regulations called for an equitable division of streets and territories and their assignment to different thieves who were responsible for whatever was stolen in the district. All booty was divided; the thief shared equally with the chieftain; his accomplices received one-third, and sentinels (postas) and scouts (abispones), one-fifth. A portion of all thefts was set aside for "benefactors" who, in the words of Monipodio, included "the lawyer who defends us, the constable who tips us off, and the executioner who shows us mercy." ⁽¹¹⁾ A certain percentage was also devoted to pious uses, such as masses for deceased brothers and for the sick and needy of the fraternity.

The thieves and bullies who made up the Sevillian hampa lived in a world of their own, one possessing its own heroes and martyrs. These men were the objects of toasts at gang get-togethers, such as the one described in El Buscón, and their names and deeds offered inspiration to their brothers. ⁽¹²⁾ Contemporary chronicles and literary works contain abundant references to the heroes of the underworld, most of whom were also "martyrs" (at least in the eyes of the [198] hampa) because they died on the gallows. Among the most notorious were Pedro Vázquez Escamilla, whose name served in later years as a rallying cry for ruffians in "battle" with rival gangs or the police; Gayón, inventor of a special kind of knife thrust, indispensable for the toughs; and Gonzalo Genis, known as "king of the ruffians," who was hanged for murder in 1596, and who during his career had even dared to fire a pistol at the Asistente of Seville, Count of Priego. But the most popular and tragic figure of them all was the poet-ruffian Alonso Alvarez de Soria, over whom the maudlin bullies wept in Buscón; for he was, in their words, "a fine lad, a fighter with guts -- a champion and a good friend." ⁽¹³⁾

Although the ineffectiveness of the Seville police force allowed the underworld a free run of the city (there was no quarter in which they did not make an appearance), they had several chief haunts right in the center of town. Among their favorite meeting places were two courtyards of the Cathedral known as the Corral de los Olmos and the Corral or Patio de los Naranjos. The Corral de los Olmos was situated at the eastern end of the Cathedral between the Giralda Tower and the Archbishop's Palace. In the Middle Ages a mosque had occupied this site, but in the sixteenth century the area was almost all taken up by  a mean eating place (casa de gula) that catered to the lowest elements in the city. ⁽¹⁴⁾ Here meals were served at [199] all hours of the day and night to the hordes of undesirables in the neighborhood. In contrast to the Corral de los Olmos, the Corral de los Naranjos was the haunt of the "elite" of the underworld -- important criminals, notorious rogues, and bullies. Contemporaries thought of it as a kind of "Salamanca" for criminals from which many ruffians like the one described by Salas Barbadillo in El Sagaz Estacio had "graduated." ⁽¹⁵⁾

The popularity of the Corral de los Naranjos was in no small part due to the fact that it was within the sanctuary area of the Cathedral. Protected by prevailing ecclesiastical privilege, all churches and religious houses in sixteenth century Spain offered asylum to persons fleeing from secular jurisdiction. Municipal authorities seldom dared to break the inviolability of church sanctuary since to do so inevitably brought conflict with the church and excommunication of city officials. As a result the sanctuaries often became hideouts for thieves enjoying a de facto immunity from the law. Such was the situation in the Seville Cathedral and the adjoining Corral de los Naranjos. The delinquents who took refuge there customarily left the sanctuary at night and went out into the streets, where they committed all kinds of crimes. During the day they received visits from whores, who brought them food and clothing, and gaming went on both day and night. The ecclesiastical authorities repeatedly tried to put an end to the scandals and disorders connected with sanctuary life. In 1586, for example, they limited the right of asylum within a given church to eight [200] days and prohibited gambling and the entrance of women into the sanctuaries. ⁽¹⁶⁾ Unfortunately, these well-intentioned regulations proved difficult to enforce, and the abuses continued.

Like the sanctuaries, the city jail served as a refuge for criminals and a base for their operations. The Seville jail (Cárcel Real de Sevilla) was famous throughout Spain for its large number of prisoners and the variety of their crimes. There are several estimates of the regular prison population. In 1579, when the city fathers petitioned Philip II for additional financial aid for the jail, they said that it usually held 7,000 prisoners, male and female, but that at times it housed as many as 7,300. Similar figures were given in 1587 by Morgado, who placed the prison population at from 1,000 to 7,500. A third estimate, made in the same period when Morgado was writing, was 1,800. ⁽¹⁷⁾ It would be useless to comment on the validity of these figures; those of 1579 were official, but it is not clear whether or not they were the result of a direct count. In any case, a high rate of lawlessness characterized the city during this period.

One of the best descriptions of the prison of Seville is in Cristóbal de Chaves' Relación de la cárcel de Sevilla, begun after 1585 and completed in 1597. Chaves, a lawyer [201] of the Audiencia, had ample opportunities to observe the members of this picturesque community, whom he viewed with both sympathy and humor. He vividly portrays the daily existence of the prisoners in the courtyards and various sections of the jail -- vaults, old and new gallery, the chamber of iron, and the women's prison -- and describes the duties of the governor and undergovernor, the ruses and tricks of the inmates, and anecdotes of famous criminals. Some of the most interesting details relate to the curious customs of the inmates. Prisoners who resisted torture were acclaimed by fellow inmates -- sheets drenched in wine were hung out in their honor, and lutes and tambourines sounded when they entered their cells. Similarly, an execution became a heroic moment in which prisoners in rented mourning garments crowded about a condemned man, shaking his hands and alternately consoling and extolling him. Then, chanting litanies, they accompanied him through the streets to the place of execution. ⁽¹⁸⁾ Thus a death march became a triumphant procession, and a convicted criminal was turned into a hero.

Life in jail could be quite tolerable for delinquents and criminals. Prisoners were permitted to receive visits from friends, confederates, and mistresses. From the time the doors were opened early in the morning, until ten at night, a steady procession of visitors brought food and clothing to the inmates. Luxuries of all kinds were available to those who could pay; others lived off charity or on donations from friends and relatives. There were four taverns, a similar number of restaurants, and two shops that catered to the needs of the prisoners. Gaming went on [202] from morning to night; fights, knifings, and thefts among the inmates were common. Most prisoners were armed even though weapons were confiscated at regular intervals.

Unlike the criminals, the poor debtors endured great sufferings in this vicious environment. They were protected principally by the Jesuits, who worked tirelessly distributing charity and spiritual comfort. The Jesuits often acted as intermediaries between the debtors and their creditors. In addition, the Confraternity of Nuestra Señora de la Visitación, founded in 1585 by a judge of the Audiencia, Andrés Fernández de Córdoba, helped poor prisoners. Its membership included some of the most prestigious Sevillians -- nobles, professionals, and merchants. Every week two members of the brotherhood visited the jail to listen to the complaints and problems of the inmates. Through the combined efforts of this confraternity and the Jesuits, some two to three thousand prisoners were freed each year. ⁽¹⁹⁾

Outside the city proper quite a few places were frequented by the underworld. Among the more important were the outer fortifications of the city (barbacanas) and the Campo de Tablada, a favorite spot for gang fights. The whole right bank of the Guadalquivir up to San Juan de Alfarache was popular, and there were several inns on that side of the river where they gathered for merrymaking. One of these, known as the Venta de la Barqueta, was for many years a thieves' den. In 1595 the Count of Priego, upon being informed that the notorious ruffian [203] Damián de Carmona was at the Venta de la Barqueta, took a company of armed men there to arrest him. Carmona was eventually captured, but only after a pitched battle between the municipal force and the criminals inside the inn. As a result of this incident, the Count of Priego ordered the inn razed to the ground. ⁽²⁰⁾ Also on the right bank of the river was the Huerta del Alamillo, often mentioned as a recreation area for the hampa. It was here that the ruffians and their girl friends from the brothel enjoyed a rather sumptuous picnic in Cervantes' Rufián dichoso. ⁽²¹⁾

Notwithstanding these places, the principal stamping ground of the Sevillian underworld was an extramural area on the Seville side of the river known alternately as El Compás, El Compás del Arenal, or simply El Arenal. It covered all the low-lying swampy terrain from the city walls to the river between the Triana and Arenal Gates. The Arenal came close to being an authentic criminal quarter where immunity from arrest was based partly on custom, but mostly on the strength of the criminals and the weakness or indifference of the law. Here, in sight of the incessant movement and turmoil of the port, could be found the inns, taverns, and cheap rooming houses that harbored and serviced the underworld. The Arenal also served as a kind of second-hand market where fraud and cheating were the order of the day. ⁽²²⁾

One of the main centers of activity within the Arenal [204] district was a collection of small shacks (boticas) lying close to the city walls on the left side of the Arenal Gate. This was the site of the notorious Sevillian brothel, El Compás, which had given its name to the entire quarter. Like most urban property in Seville, these miserable dwellings belonged to both the municipality and the several ecclesiastical corporations (Cathedral chapter, hospitals, religious houses) which leased them to private individuals, usually government employees and law officials. Thus at the end of the sixteenth century the city's twenty houses of prostitution were rented to the public executioner, Francisco Vélez. The lessees in turn collected a daily rent of one and a half reales from the prostitutes who occupied the shacks and selected persons to serve as brothel keepers. The brothel keepers were almost always men (known as padres de la mancebía), but occasionally mention of women keepers can be found. In 1577 the constable Marco Ocaña chose Mari Sánchez de Marquina as madre for his eleven shacks. According to Ocaña she was an excellent selection because "she was a mature woman experienced in her trade; she resided in the brothel district and was the mother-in-law of Rafael Rodríguez, also a brothel keeper." ⁽²³⁾

Whether male or female, all appointments to brothel keeper had to be approved by the city. Furthermore, all appointees were required to take an oath before the town clerk to uphold the statutes of the brothel (Ordenanzas de la mancebía). The fact that these posts offered ample opportunities [205] for gain made them popular and highly prized. The padres easily exploited the women through their unscrupulous dealings. They rented clothes to them at a profit and lent money on their future earnings. One of their principal activities was pawn broking, and they would lend money on all kinds of pledges including the women themselves, who were often "pawned" by their ruffian boy friends for 10 or 20 ducats. Throughout the century the brothel ordinances repeatedly prohibited such abuses, but seemingly to no avail. In the opinion of the Jesuit Juan de Mariana, the padres were cruel and avaricious men who tyrannized the unhappy women under their control; they were padres in name only.⁽²⁴⁾

Surprisingly enough, at the time such positions were not considered demeaning or dishonorable. The brothel keepers, like Padre Carrascosa in El rufián dichoso, prided themselves on being honest, respectable men who held "honorable posts in the country." Similarly, the brothel owners held themselves in as high esteem as they did the padres. In 1584 Licenciado Francisco Díaz addressed a petition to the city council in which he proudly described himself as the owner of twenty boticas and his keeper as a "respectable married man and a good Christian." ⁽²⁵⁾ Moreover, some of the padres had overly scrupulous consciences. The Jesuit Pedro de León (who for many years conducted [206] missions in the brothel) tells of a padre who so feared for his salvation that he confessed every eight days. ⁽²⁶⁾

One of the best sources of information about the Sevillian brothel is the collection of governing ordinances that were enacted by the city government during the sixteenth century. These statutes had two main objectives: to protect the rights of the women and to insure the proper functioning of an evil but accepted institution. To begin with, restrictions were placed on admission to the brothel. Women who wished to enter had to be approved by city officials. They had to prove that they were commoners of more than twelve years of age; had lost their virginity; were orphans, of unknown parents, or had been abandoned by their parents; and were in good health (this required a certificate from the official brothel physician). Municipal officers had the moral obligation to try to dissuade candidates from such a perditious path, but failing this, they were empowered to issue documentation authorizing them to enter the brothel. Strict penalties were provided for those who failed to comply with these regulations. When in 1600 a certain Mariana Martínez was found to be exercising her profession in the brothel without prior municipal examination and authorization, she was forcibly expelled "until such time as she has satisfied the regulations," and the brothel keeper who accepted her was fined 12 reales. ⁽²⁷⁾

[207] If the brothel statutes helped to protect women from being forced into a life of prostitution against their will, they also effectively kept down their numbers. There is no way to determine the brothel population because of lack of documentation. One set of figures exists for the sixteenth century, that is, the census of 1561, but it only includes women who were denizens of Seville, a meager fourteen in all. Some comparative statistics for the seventeenth century (especially those of 1620) are no more illuminating because they reflect a period in which church authorities were exercising pressure to close the brothel and had succeeded in placing restrictions on it. ⁽²⁸⁾

The origins of the brothel inmates remain obscure. All those mentioned in the census of 1567 were vecinos of Seville, but apparently a substantial number came from neighboring towns and villages. Some were apparently drawn from the brothels of nearby cities -- like La Pintada in Francisco de Lugo y Dávila's novel De Ja hermanía, who left the San Lucar de Barrameda brothel for that of Seville where "more money could be earned." ⁽²⁹⁾ The brothel ordinances of 1570 specifically excluded mulatto women, and similar prohibitions existed for married women and those whose parents resided in Seville, but it is quite clear that all three groups were amply represented. The number of married women is surprising; some of their husbands are listed among the male residents of the brothel district in the [208] census of 1561 and on the seventeenth-century lists. Other male inhabitants of this quarter were either relatives or boy friends. Among the latter category were ruffians who acted as procurers for the women and even a number of men who worked as police officers (criados or mozos de la justica). ⁽³⁰⁾

The income of the brothel women varied, but age and physical appearance were important factors. Good-looking young prostitutes (marcas godeñas) earned from 4 to 5 ducats a day, while older or less attractive women received around 60 cuartos (4 maravedís). Typical of the second category was La Pericona, the idol of the ruffian Trampagos in Cervantes' El rufián viudo, who was fifty-six years of age, practically toothless, and had taken the sweat cure for syphilis more than eleven times. La Pericona had been in the brothel for fifteen years, and the documents indicate that many prostitutes were there for as many years and even longer. Some women were active for twenty or more years. Age and defects were concealed by heavy makeup and the skillful use of cosmetics and dyes. La Pericona, for example, with dyed hair (her own was white) and false teeth, was able to "pass for thirty-two years of age." Painted faces, rouged lips, and bosoms painted with ceruse were the marks of the prostitute. ⁽³¹⁾

To facilitate the task of law officers in enforcing regulations [209] concerning prostitutes, these women were subject to certain restrictions in dress. They were not permitted to wear hats, gloves, mantles, or slippers, but only half-mantles (like modern-day mantillas), for which reason they were called the "ladies of the half-mantle" (damas de medio manto). Throughout the sixteenth century municipal authorities stipulated that these mantles be yellow, as they had been in the Middle Ages, and it was not until the seventeenth century that they finally approved what had been the garb of prostitutes for many years -- the short black mantle. This distinctive dress had to be worn by the women at all times in public, except in church, when they "might wear their mantles long like respectable women." ⁽³²⁾

Finally, the city fathers did not neglect the prostitutes' spiritual life. On Sundays and feast days when the brothel was closed, they were required to attend church, where they were taken as a group by the "constable of the brothel." During Lent especially strong efforts were made to convert them, but most seemed to be like La Pericona, whose "ear had been bent by the droning out of thirty Lenten sermons," but who had resisted them all. ⁽³³⁾ The Jesuits in particular carried their message of redemption directly into the brothel, exhorting the inmates to abandon their sinful lives. On these occasions the doors of the brothel were closed, and it was sealed off from the surrounding area. The Jesuits apparently met with little success, although Padre Pedro de León, who spent his life redeeming prostitutes and criminals, reports that he once [210] secured the conversion of eleven of the women. This was most unusual. Repentant prostitutes were given refuge in the convent of the Dulcísimo Nombre de Jesús which had been founded for this express purpose. ⁽³⁴⁾

The brothel represented an officially sanctioned center of promiscuity outside the walls; the intention of city authorities was to draw all coarse and vicious elements into one area that could be watched closely, and in doing so to purge the streets. It is apparent that they failed; undesirables roamed about, and the city was powerless to stop them. Furthermore, stringent municipal policies in regard to the brothel inmates actually increased the number of prostitutes on the streets. Contemporaries constantly complained about their conspicuous presence all over the city, especially in the barrio of La Resolana (between the Golden Tower and the Arenal Gate) and in the extramural districts of San Bernardo and Triana. In 1601 the prebendary Porras de la Cámara estimated that there were some three thousand prostitutes in Seville, and it is quite clear that most of them were out on the streets rather than in the brothel. ⁽³⁵⁾ Undoubtedly, the streetwalkers included women who had been expelled from the brothel because of ill health. At least this is what the brothel physician Licenciado García Arroyal claimed in a petition that he sent to the city council in 1572 urging the municipality to [211] round up these women and send them to the appropriate hospitals. His opinion is confirmed by Padre León, who blamed them for the existence of so much syphilis in the city. ⁽³⁶⁾ In addition to these hapless creatures, another category of streetwalkers was described by Porras de la Cámara. They were usually young and attractive and worked under the direction of a male procurer who often maintained quarters for them in some cheap rooming house. According to the prebendary Porras, their earnings could amount to 4,000 ducats a year, and they usually maintained friendly relations with the police. La Colindres in Cervantes' Coloquio de los perros is a good example of this kind of prostitute. She worked the streets under the protection of her lover, a constable. With the cooperation of a notary friend (who also lived with a prostitute) they made a living by trapping and blackmailing men (preferably foreigners with money) who were lured into compromising situations with La Colindres. ⁽³⁷⁾

Much has been said in the foregoing pages about the ineffectiveness of the Sevillian government in dealing with organized crime, but it is not true that city officials ignored the problem or willingly accepted it. That they constantly legislated against "vagabonds and criminals" can be seen from the large number of laws on the statute books, but graft and corruption prevented this legislation from being carried out. Nevertheless, it is doubtful whether they [212] could have been more successful even if there had been less corruption and maladministration. What really defeated the efforts of the city fathers was a basic defect in the Spanish system of government during this period: the lack of a clear division of powers among governing authorities. The whole century was characterized by bitter conflicts of jurisdiction between the church and the municipality; between the Asistente and the Audiencia; and between the Audiencia and the city. These constant struggles made strong and effective government impossible.

The administration of the reforming Count of Puñonrostro (1597-1599) amply illustrates the limitations of the system. Upon assuming the position of Asistente, Puñonrostro, a stern disciplinarian, inaugurated a vigorous campaign against misgovernment and corruption in Seville. ⁽³⁸⁾ His program included energetic measures against vagabonds and delinquents. In addition to the establishment of a municipal licensing system for beggars, he ordered the frequent inspection of inns and rooming houses where undesirables gathered, and he personally accompanied the inspectors on many occasions. Several notorious criminals who for many years had operated openly in Seville were seized and executed; others fearing for their lives fled the city. But Puñonrostro's success doomed him, for a strong executive in the person of the Asistente was the last thing [213] in the world desired by the Audiencia. Fearful of a diminution of their powers and prerogatives, the judges opposed and counteracted his efforts to such a degree that he finally gave up in despair. With the departure of the Count of Puñonrostro the normal state of disorder and confusion returned. Maladministration and corruption; fabulous wealth and massive poverty; overpopulation and insecurity -- all that was Seville in the sixteenth century -- enabled the underworld to survive and prosper and its members to live out their marginal and nonproductive lives.

Underworld elements were just one of the many groups that made up the population of sixteenth-century Seville, but whose presence along with that of other marginal classes -- Moriscos, freedmen, and slaves -- greatly added to the diversity and cosmopolitanism for which the city was justly famous.

The heterogeneity that characterized the lower ranks of society also prevailed at the top. The usual stereotype of the Spanish nobility as a narrow Old Christian caste obsessed with the idea of racial and religious purity and profoundly anticommercial has no place in Seville. On the contrary, the Sevillian nobility was never a closed or homogeneous class; there had always been incursions into its ranks by nonnobles, especially in the fifteenth century by wealthy merchants of converso background, and this movement reached its culmination in the sixteenth century. By the middle of that century the majority of the Sevillian nobility consisted of recently ennobled families of mixed social and racial origins whose commercial orientation and activities reflected their mercantile background. In cooperation with enterprising merchant-commoners of similar [214] converso descent to whom they were often related through blood or marriage, they created a powerful elite that by 1550 dominated the transatlantic trade. These same families controlled the church, monopolized the municipal government, and constituted the largest number of titled professionals. With the stigma of their origins carefully hidden under false genealogies and their lives and ideas patterned along the lines of the official ideology of religious orthodoxy and limpieza de sangre, these aristocrats and traders directed the destinies of their city, and it is to them that Seville owed its period of greatness and prosperity in the sixteenth century.

1. Thieves' cant or germanía of the period is discussed by Rafael Salillas, El delincuente español; El lenguaje (Madrid, 1896). See also Hesse, ed., Romancero.

2. M. de Cervantes Saavedra, Rinconete y Cortadillo, ed. F. Rodríguez Marín (Madrid, 1952), p. 175; Peraza, Historia, as quoted in Cervantes Saavedra, Rinconete y Cortadillo (1905 ed.), p. 73.

3. F. de Quevedo y Villegas, Historia de la vida del Buscón, ed. S. Gui Gaya (Zaragoza, 1959), pp. 116-117. A good description of vagabonds, beggars, and criminals is in J. Deleito y Piñuela, La mala vida en la España de Felipe IV (Madrid, 1959), and R. Salillas, El delincuente español: La Hampa (Madrid, 1898).

4. Ariño, Sucesos de Sevilla, pp. 45-47.

5. Frank Chandler, Romances of Roguery (New York, 1961), p.175; Domínguez Ortiz, Orto y Ocaso, p. 70.

6. Cristóbal de Chaves, La relación de la cárcel de Sevilla, in Bartolomé José Gallardo, Ensayo de una biblioteca española de libros raros y curiosos, I (Madrid, 1863), 1362.

7. Cervantes Saavedra, Rinconete y Cortadillo (1952 ed.), p. 164.

8. For references to the bullies of San Roman and the Feria, see M. de Cervantes Saavedra, El rufián dichoso, ed. Edward Nagy (New York, 1968), Jornadas I, III, and Hesse, ed., Romancero.

9. Dr. Carlos García, La desordinada codicia de los bienes ajenos, in Angel Valbuena Prat, La novela picaresca española (Madrid, 1956), Chapters VII, VIII.

10. Luis Zapata, Miscelánea, in Memorial histórico español (Madrid, 1859), XI, 49.

11. Cervantes Saavedra, Rinconete y Cortadillo (1952 cd.), p. 168; García, Desordinada codicia, Chapter XIII.

12. Quevedo y Villegas, El Buscón, pp. 125-126.

13. Ibid., p. 726. For more information on these heroes of the underworld, see A. Domínguez Ortiz, "Delitos y suplicios en la Sevilla imperial (La crónica negra de un misionero jesuita)," in Crisis y Decadencia de la España de los Austrias (Barcelona, 1969), pp. 40-77, and Chaves, La cárcel de Sevilla, especially the second and third relaciones.

14. Caro, Antigüedades, pp. 53, 61-62.

15. Alonso Jerónimo de Salas Barbadillo, La Peregrinación sabia y el sagaz Estacio, marido examinado, ed. F. A. de Icaza (Madrid, 1958), p. 227. Both corrales are mentioned continuously in Hesse, ed., Romancero.

16. These prohibitions can be found in the Ecclesiastical Reform Ordinances of 1572 (ordinance no. 39); see Cotarelo y Valledor, Deza, p. 200. For an excellent description of sanctuary life in the Cathedral, see Quevedo y Villegas, El Buscón, pp. 126-127.

17. Chaves, La cárcel de Sevilla, p. 1341; Morgado, Historia, p. 192. The figures for 1579 can be found in BM, MS. Add. 28.341, "Carta a Felipe II de los deputados y administradores de la cárcel de Sevilla."

18. Chaves, La cárcel de Sevilla, pp. 1344, 1362.

19. For information about the Confraternity of Nuestra Señora de la Visitación, see Morgado, Historia, pp. 196-201, and Chaves, La cárcel de Sevilla, pp. 1342-1343. The activities of the Jesuits are described in Domínguez Ortiz, "Delitos y suplicios."

20. Domínguez Ortiz, "Delitos y suplicios," p. 59.

21. Cervantes Saavedra, El rufián dichoso, Jornada I.

22. Additional information on the Arenal is in José María Asensio y Toledo, "El Compás de Sevilla," in Cervantes y sus obras (Barcelona, 1902), pp. 405-424.

23. Rodríguez Marín, El Loaysa, p. 355; Cervantes Saavedra, Rinconete y Cortadillo (1905 ed.), pp. 107, 110; AMS, Varios Antiguos, Mancebías, no. 339, as quoted in ibid., p. 112. This legajo no longer exists in the Municipal Archives.

24. Juan de Mariana, Tratado contra los juegos públicos in Biblioteca de Autores Españoles, XXXI (Madrid, 1950), Chapter XIX; BM. MS. Eg. 1873, "Ordenanzas a los Padres de la mancebía (año 1570)," folios 755-756.

25. Cervantes Saavedra, El rufián dichoso, Jornada I, p. 45; AMS, Varios Antiguos, Mancebía, no. 339, as quoted in Cervantes Saavedra, Rinconete y Cortadillo (1905 cd.), p. 113.

26. Domínguez Ortiz, "Delitos y suplicios," p. 27.

27. AMS, Colección del Conde del Aguila, tomo 7, Letra A, no. 73, as quoted in "Documentos relativos a la Mancebía," Archivo Hispalense, IV (1888), 76; BM, MS. Eg. 1873; Asensio, "El Compás," p. 472.

28. AGS, Expedientes de hacienda, leg. 170, p. 525. Figures for 1620 are in "Documentos relativos a la Mancebía," pp. 16-18. An excerpt from another list dated 1600 has been published by Rodríguez Marín, El Loaysa, p. 152.

29. Francisco de Lugo y Dávila, Teatro popular ( Novelas), ed. Emilio Cotarelo y Mon (Madrid, 1906), p. 133.

30. Rodríguez Marín, El Loaysa, p. 152; BM, Eg. 7873, Ordenanza XIII, folios 156v-157; AGS, Expedientes de hacienda, leg. 170, fol. 525.

31. Cervantes Saavedra, El rufián viudo, p. 23. In 1620 two prostitutes, Angela del Castillo and Ana María, were ordered to leave the brothel because of "age, ill health and the many years that they had been there." The names of both these women appear on the list of 1600; a certain Gerónima "la rubia" is also on the 1600 and 1620 lists.

32. AMS, Escribanías del cabildo, siglo XVII, tomo 22, fol. 14; BM, Eg. 7873, Ordenanza XI, fol. 156v.

33. Cervantes Saavedra, El rufián viudo, p. 24; AMS, Colección del Conde del Aguila, Letra A, tomo 7, fol. 20.

34. Domínguez Ortiz, "Delitos y suplicios," pp. 25-29. For more about the convent of the Dulcísimo Nombre de Jesús, see Morgado, Historia, p. 448.

35. "Memorial del Licenciado Porras de la Cámara al Arzobispo de Sevilla sobre el mal gobierno y corrupción de costumbres en aquella ciudad," Revista de Archivos, Bibliotecas y Museos, 3a época, IV (1900), 552.

36. Domínguez Ortiz, "Delitos y suplicios," p. 28; AMS, Escribanías del cabildo, siglo XVI, Mancebía, no. 62; ibid., siglo XVII, Mancebía, no. 90.

37. Cervantes Saavedra, El coloquio de los perros, pp. 267-268; "Memorial del Licenciado Porras de la Cámara," p. 552.

38. For information about the career of Francisco Arias de Bobadilla, Count of Puñonrostro, see J. Guichot y Parody, Historia del Excm. Ayuntamiento de la Ciudad de Sevilla (Seville, 1896), II, 133-136; Ariño, Sucesos de Sevilla, pp. 45-99. Reference to his "persecution of criminals" is in M. de Cervantes Saavedra, La ilustre fregona in Novelas ejemplares, ed. F. Rodríguez Marín, II (Madrid, 1957), 236-238.