[246] The crown of Castile had conceived of itself as imperial
since the eleventh century, and the crown of Aragón had created
a Mediterranean empire on land and sea. During the later Middle Ages a
whole series of institutions had been built to cope with imperial expansion.
The Catalans had dealt with the problem of controlling far-flung territories
by creating the office of "vice-roy" (sub-king) for direct representation
of the crown. This office was used also in administering peninsular principalities
of the Aragonese crown. Commerce was regulated by the Consulat of Barcelona,
which chartered and administered maritime activity. In Castile, border
governors (adelantados) had been appointed since the thirteenth century
to govern and defend the frontier territories. The outfitting of individual
expeditions against the infidels (or others) in imperial enterprise or
reconquest had been common since the early Middle Ages, though the most
extraordinary example until the sixteenth century had been the conquest
of Athens by the Catalan Grand Company of Almogávars. Subjects of
all the major Hispanic states had participated in the repartimiento, or
division, of conquered territories and the tutelage of alien ethnic groups.
The Castilian crown for four centuries had been accustomed to intermittently
augmenting its income, somewhat artificially, by bullion shipments in tribute
from the remaining Muslim territory. In all three major kingdoms the reconquest
had encouraged a massive flow of [247] colonizing emigrants outward
(southward). Local social and urban structures had been developed or redeveloped,
with varying representation or self-government.
Even more important than any particular aspect of historical experience
was the continuing psychic mold which patterned the thinking of the people
of Castile in particular. The crusade psychology rose to its height in
the late fifteenth century. The paradoxical consequences of this orientation
have frequently been pointed out, for the guerra divinal for God
and the crown had the added appeal of making some of its practitioners
rich. It was the opportunity for renewed military aggrandizement that had
enabled Hispanic society to remain socially mobile over a period of eight
hundred years. Thus at the end of the fifteenth century no societies were
better prepared for imperial expansion than those of the Hispanic kingdoms.
The completion of the reconquest, absorbing the entire emirate of Granada
after the ten-year struggle of 1482-1492, was a galvanizing deed that gripped
the imagination of nearly all Castile and much of Aragón as well.
It extended royal power and satisfied popular aspirations at the same time.
Once completed, however, the straits hardly served as a stopping point.
The Maghreb and the Hispanic peninsula had formed a geographic unit in
African expansion throughout the Middle Ages, and were perceived in the
same terms when the tide began to flow in the opposite direction. The Spanish
crown received the blessing of the papacy and special tax rights over church
and laity for expansion into North Africa. Portugal had begun its offensive
in Morocco in 1415, and the Castilian phase began with the capture of the
northeast Moroccan port of Melilla in 1497. Several minor ports and fortresses
were seized during the next few years. In her will of 1504, Isabel commended
to her subjects the continuation of the offensive against the Muslim world
as their main international objective, and a major expedition in 1509 seized
the key Algerian port of Oran.
Yet the grand Hispanic counteroffensive into northwest Africa did not
fully materialize, for almost from the beginning it was shoved into the
background by other considerations. The united crown had inherited not
one but two imperial traditions: the crusading drive of the Castilians
against the Muslim world to Africa and beyond, and the Mediterranean thrust
of the Catalan-Aragonese monarchy. Even during Isabel's lifetime foreign
affairs were mostly the prerogative of the more experienced, sophisticated
Fernando, who had every intention of restoring, and if possible extending,
the Aragonese sphere of influence in the west Mediterranean, though that
would bring the Spanish crown into conflict with other Christian states.
The rise of the united monarchy in Spain coincided with the last great
burst of vigor of medieval Europe. The French monarchy, [248] always
potentially the most powerful force in western Europe, had greatly consolidated
its position during the second half of the fifteenth century. This was
done partly at the expense of its traditional enemy, Aragón, as
the French crown incorporated Catalan border territory and pressed its
imperial ambitions in Italy. By the treaty of Barcelona of 1493, Fernando
skillfully avoided immediate conflict with the French in the Italian peninsula,
winning in return, as a bloodless concession from Charles VIII of France
(1483-1498), restoration of the former Catalan dominions of Cerdanya and
Rosselló.
At no time during the Middle Ages or after could even a united Castile-Aragón
equal the economic and organizational potential or manpower reserves of
a unified kingdom of France. France was the most densely populated major
power in Europe, and if not always ahead economically, was never too far
behind, enjoying the medieval and early modern equivalent of the largest
gross national product in Europe. France's population was at least 50 percent
greater than that of Castile-Aragón; its domestic economic superiority
was potentially even greater.
In contrast, medieval Aragón had built its position in the west
Mediterranean by exceptional military, naval, and commercial skill, at
times abetted by clever diplomacy and the intermittent breakdown of French
political unity. Fernando made more effective use of diplomacy than perhaps
any other king in Hispanic history. He was assisted by the first regular
cadre of diplomats, agents, and spies used by an Hispanic government, and
it may not be too much to say that he developed the first regular royal
diplomatic service in late medieval Europe.
The union of Castile with the Aragonese Mediterranean empire meant
that the Spanish monarchy almost inevitably inherited an anti-French orientation.
After Charles VIII established French hegemony in the Italian peninsula
in one swift campaign (1494), the balance of power was so greatly changed
that the Spanish crown had no alternative to direct action unless it was
ready to relinquish the entire sphere of traditional Aragonese activity.
Fernando labored to restore the broad international anti-French alliance
first fashioned by his father, Juan II of Aragón. There followed
the campaigns of 1495-1497 and 1501-1504, in which the Spanish forces,
aided by Italian allies, drove the French from the peninsula, regaining
Sicily and Naples for the Spanish crown.
These contests were triumphs of skill and leadership over superior
French manpower and were the training ground for what would become the
royal Spanish army. Though the medieval Castilian forces had more often
than not been paid soldiers, and the crown maintained a few small mercenary
units, there was no more a standing royal army in Spain than elsewhere.
The Spanish army did not develop [249] fully until after the reign
of Fernando, but prolonged confrontation with the leading military power
in western Europe hastened its organization.
The early Italian campaigns made famous the name of Gonzalo Fernández
de Córdova, the Andalusian grande called by Italians "the great
captain." One of the most chivalrous spirits of his time, Fernández
de Córdova led Spanish forces in Italy and began the tactical transformation
that created the classic military operations of the imperial age. The Catalans
had been used to employing professional infantrymen in their Mediterranean
operations, and foot soldiers had been used to great advantage in the siege
warfare of the Granada region. By the fifteenth century, the dominance
of armored cavalry was nearly ended. The new military elite of Europe were
sturdy infantry pikemen, usually Swiss or German mercenaries, who wielded
compact rows of long, heavy lances. Such a well-disciplined foot formation
had broken many a cavalry charge, though it was not itself very mobile.
Fernández de Córdova's achievement was to build a diversified
force, incorporating firearms, that could deal with both cavalry and infantry.
The standard Spanish unit developed in the Italian campaigns was at
first made up of some 6,000 men. These large sections were later broken
into tercios (thirds) or brigades of approximately 2,000. Until
the l530s, pikebearers, infantry armed with short swords, and arquebusiers
firing a sort of matchlock were combined in proportions of 32-1. The pikemen
guaranteed the defense, the swordsmen carried the offensive against the
enemy infantry once the latter had been engaged, and the arquebusiers provided
what was perhaps the first portable long-range missile force in modern
history, able to strike at a distance before the enemy was ready to engage.
Small light-cavalry companies also accompanied the tercios. The soldiers
were almost entirely volunteers, but they normally served for long terms
of ten years or more and were paid by the royal treasury. Discipline and
organization became strict, for only careful coordination could ensure
success in increasingly complex battles.
Beside these titanic struggles on the European continent and in the
Mediterranean, the great transatlantic empire developed as a marginal activity.
It has sometimes been observed that the Spanish conquest and partial colonization
of so much of America--and of a large swathe of the western Pacific as
well--was a matter of private initiative. There is considerable truth to
this, yet it must be remembered that all the principal expeditions of exploration
and conquest were conducted under royal license, though not usually at
royal initiative or expense, and that the crown was always careful to reserve
for itself all political sovereignty in new areas brought under Spanish
domination. Properties and a few positions were granted on an hereditary
basis, and toward the end of the sixteenth century it became increasingly
possible to purchase local administrative offices in Spanish America, whether
or not on an hereditary basis, but all this merely followed Castilian precedent.
Every town established in the overseas [255] empire had to be chartered
by the crown, and the entire administrative structure was organized from
Castile. Thus the overseas empire was not at first a fully Spanish empire
but an empire of the Spanish crown and more precisely of the crown of Castile.
For several generations, subjects of the Aragonese principalities were
nominally prohibited from participating, though in one guise or another
a small number had been involved from the very beginning.
The government of the Spanish crown was organized on the basis of a
series of separate councils for various regions and branches of governmental
activity, expanded over a period of one hundred years. In 1494, a general
royal Council of Aragón to deal with the affairs of all the Aragonese
principalities was established parallel to but separate from the royal
Council of Castile, which dealt with the internal affairs of Castile. This,
in turn, required formation of a new Council of State, to help formulate
the foreign policy of the royal government as a whole. The conquest of
Mexico made it necessary to set up a new organ, the Council of the Indies,
to supervise the American possessions. This body was officially constituted
in 1524 and retained its authority until most of Spanish America had gained
its independence. The council was not officially dissolved until 1834.
Since the Spanish Habsburg empire in Europe was governed on the Aragonese
pluralistic principle, further councils were added to supervise its affairs.
A Council of Italy was organized between 1555 and 1558, a Council of Portugal
in 1580, a Council of Flanders in 1588, and finally, a separate Council
of Finance in 1593, to try to bring order to the crown's highly complex
and overburdened financial system. Smaller royal councils administered
royal justice in Castile and the affairs of the Inquisition. The pluralistic
conciliar system guaranteed considerable autonomy in the affairs of various
regions of the empire and certain branches of government, but it also discouraged
cooperation and coordination in the whole. It resulted in the duplication
and overlapping of functions and the entrenchment of vested interests that
became increasingly pernicious during the seventeenth century.
There was a basic difference between the structure of the Council of
the Indies and those which governed the crown's European principalities.
The latter were composed for the most part of influential inhabitants of
the regions with which they dealt and were guided and limited by the local
constitutions or laws and usages of the area. The Council of the Indies
was staffed exclusively by peninsular Spaniards, mostly Castilian, and
was not bound by any colonial charter, tradition, or constitution. For
three hundred years its power was nearly absolute. It must be said, however,
that the council's members were more often than not able and hardworking,
and even during the [256] seventeenth century tended to escape the
pervasive corruption that was by that time weighing down most branches
of Spanish government. Their legislative and judicial activity was prodigious,
for they constantly felt called upon to regulate life in the most minute
detail. By 1635, over 400,000 edicts were nominally in force; an abridgment
of 1681 reduced this number to a more digestible 6,400.
Under the Spanish Habsburg empire, the executive powers of the crown
were vested in regional viceroys, more or less on the Aragonese pattern.
Viceroys represented the crown in Zaragoza, Barcelona, Valencia, Palermo,
and Naples, and after the incorporation of Hispanic Navarre (1512), in
Pamplona as well. Overseas, powers of viceroy were delegated to Columbus
in the first charter of 1492 and subsequently divided between two viceroys
in Mexico and Peru. All commerce and navigation with Spanish America was
controlled and administered by the Casa de Contratación (House
of Trade), an agency of the Council of the Indies established in Seville
and modeled, to some extent at least, on the medieval Catalan consulate,
though its powers were more extensive and arbitrary. The colonial judicial
system, by comparison, was a direct extension of the Castilian. Regional
audiencias were formed in America from 1511 onward, expanding the audiencia
system slowly elaborated in Castile since the thirteenth century and reformed
by the Catholic Kings.
The empire was administered by the largest bureaucratic apparatus in
the western world. This vast mechanism, which sometimes worked with surprising
effectiveness, was eventually overwhelmed by its own size, by distance,
and by the volume of its work. By the end of the sixteenth century it was
becoming ossified, but even during the seventeenth-century decline it continued
to serve its main purpose of holding the empire together administratively.
The overseas empire, of distinctly secondary importance during the
first third of the sixteenth century, became more significant after the
increase in shipments of precious metals in the 1530s. By the reign of
Felipe II, American resources were a vital mainstay of the crown, even
though the overseas territories still received much less attention than
did the European principalities.
Felipe II (1556-1598) has been the most controversial ruler in Spanish
history. Foreign and Protestant writers gave him a long and enduring reputation
as the arch-fiend of Counter-Reformation iniquity, blackening his fame
outside of Spain for three centuries. To Spaniards, he has been the great
ruler who guided the empire at the [257] height of its power, the
sword arm of Catholicism, defender of the faith and unity of Europe. He
has also been called el prudente-"the wise" or "prudent."
Felipe II was a Spanish king in a way that Carlos V could never become.
Born and bred in Castile, he was thoroughly imbued with Castilian values
and knew no other language well. After the retirement of Carlos, the central
European Habsburg ("Austrian") domains were split off from the Spanish
crown. They remained the patrimony of Ferdinand, younger brother of Carlos
V, who decades earlier, as the Castilian-bred Infante D. Fernando, had
been much the more Spanish of the two sons of Juana and Philip the Fair.
Ferdinand also succeeded his brother as Holy Roman Emperor. This title
henceforth would remain exclusively among the Austrian Habsburgs.
Freed of the central European imperial title and obligations, the empire
of Felipe II was much more a Spanish empire than that of his father had
been. Its base was the kingdom of Castile, whence came the bulk of its
manpower, the largest share of its income, the tenor of its religious policy,
and even to some extent the spirit of its politics. Felipe II was most
similar to his father in his sense of duty. Yet whereas Carlos V had been
a military and cavalier king, devoted to battle, the hunt, and the pleasures
of the table, Felipe was a bureaucratic ruler. He did not personally lead
his armies and was averse to hunting, but he himself attended to the vast
paperwork and correspondence that held together the huge diplomatic and
administrative network of the empire. He served as the first clerk of the
imperial bureaucracy. The amount of detail to which Felipe applied himself
was truly prodigious, but even his tireless application was inadequate
to the task. Refusing to delegate central authority, he fell farther behind
each year, and the backlog of imperial paper work became even greater.
The imperial affairs of the reign of Felipe II fall into five general
periods: 1) the peaceful Spanish hegemony of 1559-1565, inaugurated by
the treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis in 1559; 2) the imperial crisis of
1566-1570; 3) the Spanish response of 1571-1572; 4) the relatively static
period of 1573-1580; and 5) the concluding era of the crown's great struggle
for the unity and hegemony of western Europe, 1581-1598.
The last round of the Franco-Spanish wars of Carlos V had begun in
1552, and was climaxed by the major Spanish victory at St. Quentin in northeastern
France in 1557. The peace of Cateau-Cambrésis (1559) putting an
end to these Hispano-French wars, proved the longest peace agreement of
the century between the two crowns, lasting for thirty-seven years until
1596. Felipe II was eager to have [258] the costly struggle over,
while the French crown found its kingdom weakened by internal division.
Cateau-Cambrésis was a "Catholic" peace, designed to promote harmony
between the two major Catholic powers and enable them to concentrate their
energies on internal and religious unity. It coincided with the first measures
of Felipe II to seal off Spain from foreign books, and with major persecution
of Castilian crypto-Protestants by the Inquisition. It also recognized,
in effect, the hegemony of the Spanish crown, for France renounced its
ambitions in Italy and evacuated the duchy of Savoy, which it had occupied
for more than two decades. Felipe II thus began his reign in a stronger
position in western Europe than his father had ever enjoyed.
Four years later the Council of Trent completed its work, providing
reformed Catholicism with a strong doctrinal base from which to launch
a counteroffensive on wavering borderlands. The political difficulties
of Felipe II with the papacy have been discussed in chapter 11. In his
own dominions, the Spanish king took an even more ruthless and uncompromising
stand against heresy than some church theologians felt was necessary. Toward
other powers, however, he followed a more prudent line, ignoring all pressures
from the papacy to pursue a hostile policy toward Elizabeth of England
so long as Elizabeth avoided an outright declaration of Protestantism.
For nearly fifteen years the center of attention for Felipe was not
western Europe but the Turkish menace in the Mediterranean, which had been
a major factor in his desire for peace with France. During the 1550s the
Mediterranean had become almost a Muslim lake. The first offensive expedition
of Felipe's reign, against Tripoli in 1560, was badly led and ended in
disaster with the loss of twenty galleys and more than six thousand men.
It prompted a major naval construction campaign in Spain and Italy during
the next four years, however, and Spanish forces conquered the Peñón
de Yélez on the north Moroccan coast in 1564, then defeated a major
Turkish attempt to seize Malta in the central Mediterranean the following
year.
Felipe II had to face a series of new challenges between 1566 and 1568,
starting with the Protestant revolt in the Low Countries in 1566. Though
this was completely crushed in less than a year, Felipe decided in 1567
that he could no longer trust the affairs of that area to semi-autonomous
local administration supervised by a viceroy, as in his father's reign.
In 1567, he dispatched an Hispano-Italian army of occupation under his
leading military commander, the duke of Alba. This marked a turning away
from the ecumenical, federal policy of his father toward a more centralized
and authoritarian Spanish Counter-Reformation policy. The decision to adopt
an intransigent line against heresy in the Low Countries, involving the
execution even of recanters, was primarily that of the king himself. His
theological advisers did not themselves agree on such draconian measures.
During [259] the next six years, the "Council of Troubles" (also
called the Council of Blood) in Brussels executed more than one thousand
rebels and heretics, exceeding the peninsular Inquisition in its harshness.
The great crisis year of Felipe's reign was 1568. Muslims were still
a major threat in the Mediterranean, where Spanish forces had not yet made
good the losses of the 1540s and l550s. The English and rebel Dutch navies
in the North Atlantic were an incipient menace to the sea route to Flanders
and communications with the Indies. Then there occurred simultaneously
the beginning of French Huguenot military activity on the Catalan border
and the momentary fear of rebellion and heresy in Catalonia (see chapter
9), a royal domestic tragedy resulting from the attempted flight and death
of Felipe's apparently schizophrenic heir, D. Carlos, and, most perilous
of all, the great Morisco rebellion in the Alpujarra mountains around Granada,
involving nearly all the Muslims of southeastern Castile. The royal forces
were unprepared--most of the trained units had been dispatched to the Low
Countries--and the bloody struggle went on for nearly two years. What made
the situation particularly dangerous was the Morisco appeal to Turkey and
the threat of Turkish intervention which, however, never materialized.
The Morisco revolt was finally crushed (see chapter 14).
As soon as this grave question of internal security was solved, the
crown had to face a renewed Turkish threat in the Mediterranean. In 1570,
the Turks launched a major expedition of conquest against the Venetian-held
island of Cyprus. The papacy helped organize a Holy League bringing together
the navies of the Spanish crown, Genoa, and Venice. Cyprus fell in 1571,
but a few months later the Christian forces engaged the main Turkish fleet
at the great battle of Lepanto in the Gulf of Corinth, the largest engagement
in the history of naval warfare to that time. Thanks to superior naval
technology, strong leadership, and tenacious combat, the Christian armada,
under Carlos V's bastard D. Juan de Austria, won a smashing victory. More
than one-third of the Turkish fleet was destroyed, with great loss of life,
and the triumph inspired Christian confidence throughout the Mediterranean.
Though the Christian forces did not follow up their triumph with any lasting
conquests, the Turks were stopped. The Ottoman regime became increasingly
preoccupied with affairs on its eastern border and drew away from Europe.
A truce was signed with the Spanish crown in 1578 and renewed periodically
for the rest of the century.
Yet achieving this balance in the Mediterranean did not completely
restore the initiative to the crown, for the revolt in the Netherlands
grew broader and more costly. In 1572, the Dutch "Sea Beggars" seized the
port of Brill, giving them a permanent naval base in the [260] Low
Countries. The Spanish forces were threatened by French invasion from the
south, as well, an initiative that was choked off by the great massacre
of French Protestant leaders by their Catholic rivals in Paris on St. Bartholomew's
Day in August 1572. This French slaughter killed about as many people within
twenty-four hours as did the Spanish Inquisition in three hundred years.
Though Spain had no hand in the mass murder, it greatly benefitted the
Spanish position by eliminating French support for the Flemish and Dutch
rebels. The duke of Alba began a major counteroffensive in Flanders in
1572-1573, marked by some of the worst planned atrocities of sixteenth-century
west European wars. By official policy whole populations of towns were
slaughtered, and thousands of civilians perished. The growing savagery
and ruthlessness of the reign of Felipe II reflected the intransigent religious
position of the Spanish leaders and contrasted sharply with the temperate
military policies of an earlier period in Spanish history. Yet it should
be kept in mind that the Spanish outrages were no greater than those committed
in certain other parts of continental Europe.
The duke of Alba's terror was also counterproductive, for it probably
did even more than foreign political control and increased taxation to
solidify opinion in the Low Countries, of both Catholic and Protestant,
against Spanish rule. In 1573, the soldier Alba was replaced by the diplomat
Luis de Requesens as viceroy in Brussels, but by that time the revolt was
out of hand. Spanish resources were no longer sufficient to meet gigantic
and prolonged military strains, and the result was a declaration of bankruptcy
in 1575. Lack of pay eventually led to a mutiny by the main Spanish force
at Antwerp-- the so-called Spanish fury (though most of the troops were
non-Spanish mercenaries) in which the city was sacked and at least seven
thousand people slaughtered. Don Juan of Austria, the hero of Lepanto,
who had been sent as the new viceroy, was forced to agree to withdraw the
Spanish tercios. A decade after it began, the revolt in the Low Countries
was settling into a draw, with little prospect of Spanish victory.
The king's outlook was made gloomier by the discovery that his chief
personal secretary, Antonio Pérez, had been playing a double game
in his relation to the crown and high officials and had maintained secret
contacts with the rebels. Pérez was removed and arrested in 1579,
and the elderly Cardinal Granvelle, who had served Felipe II at the beginning
of his reign, was installed as imperial chancellor.
The years 1573-1579 were relatively static because of the crown's multiple
burdens, financial shortages, and erratic policy in the Low Countries,
but new opportunities presented themselves in 1580. Incorporation [261]
of the Portuguese monarchy increased the naval resources of the empire,
(1) and by that time the flow of bullion from Spanish America
had begun to increase markedly. By 1582, the Spanish forces in the Low
Countries had been expanded once more to nearly sixty thousand, including
the return of the tercios, (2) and Alessandro
Farnese, viceroy since 1578, was able to launch a general offensive. Farnese
was undoubtedly the most able lieutenant to serve the Spanish crown during
the later sixteenth century, combining outstanding qualities of military
and diplomatic leadership. From about 1579 he was assisted by a growing
reaction among the Catholic aristocracy of Flanders and Brabant against
radical urban middle- and lower-class Calvinists. Spanish strength had
always been centered in the southern Low Countries, and after a social
and ideological split developed in the rebel camp, Farnese was able to
solidify much of the population of Flanders and Brabant behind the restoration
of a Catholic regime which, though part of the Spanish empire, would be
respectful of local rights. By 1585, he had conquered Antwerp. The entire
southern half of the Low Countries--the predecessor of modern Belgium--lay
under Spanish control and was being restored to Catholicism.
This threatened to return full Spanish domination to the Low Countries,
which in turn would menace the political and religious independence of
England. Elizabeth and her advisors could not afford to see the Dutch cause
go under completely, while to the Spanish crown England stood as its principal
maritime rival, after Holland, and the only encouragement for continued
Dutch resistance. Hence the key to complete victory in the Low Countries
and secure hegemony for the empire in western Europe seemed to be the subjection
of England. The execution of Mary Queen of Scots by the English crown in
1587 finally removed the danger of a French succession to the English throne
if Elizabeth were overthrown and thus left Felipe II free to act.
The Armada of 1588 was a much more complex enterprise than the expedition
to Lepanto seventeen years earlier had been. It was the most massive high
seas fleet that Europe had ever seen, but it was also part of an amphibious
operation that planned to ferry much of the Spanish forces in the Low Countries
to a land invasion of England. There were some one hundred thirty ships
in the Armada. The English mustered a larger fleet, though their tonnage
was considerably smaller. Spanish naval strategy relied on heavy short-range
artillery to [262] close with the enemy vessels, wreck their rigging,
and hold them still in the water to be boarded. The English relied on long-range
artillery. Their ships were sufficiently maneuverable to frustrate Spanish
strategy, but their long-range artillery was too weak to do great damage.
The worst Spanish problem was lack of a deep-water port in which to pick
up Farnese's troops, making the junction of forces almost impossible. After
English fireships forced the Armada from Calais harbor in disarray, heavy
winds cut it off from contact with Farnese. A storm blew the remnants of
the Armada all the way around the British Isles. Only one-third of the
vessels were completely wrecked, and most of these were merchantmen, but
damage was heavy and there was great loss of life among skilled Spanish
seamen.
Perhaps the greatest effect of the Armada was its psychological impact
on the Spanish people. The struggles and triumphs of the century had built
up a complex of Counter-Reformation messianism and imperialism among many
Spaniards. The empire was associated with a sense of divine mission, and
the Armada had been preached from many village pulpits. Its defeat for
the first time began to raise doubts as to whether God would bless further
imperial enterprise, whether the great physical burdens of taxation and
military recruitment were really worthwhile for Castile.
Yet the losses of the Armada were made good within a year or two. Taxes
could still be raised and bullion imports from America remained high. The
Spanish fleet was still the strongest in the Atlantic, and in some respects
Felipe II stood at the height of his power in 1590-1592. The crown was
determined to combat the conquest of the French throne by the Protestant
Henri IV, and in this connection Felipe II pressed the claim of his daughter,
Isabel Clara Eugenia, whose mother had been a French princess. During 1590-1591,
the Spanish invaded France from the northeast, northwest, and southwest.
The Spanish crown also pressed the Austrian Habsburgs to pursue a more
militant Counter-Reformation policy, provided Vienna with a subsidy in
the struggle against the Turks, and even contemplated sending a Spanish
force to campaign in the Balkans.
The new struggle in France distracted Spanish strength from the Low
Countries, however, where the Dutch won important victories. It also encouraged
a Franco-English-Dutch alliance against Spain in 1596. The English naval
raid of that year against Cádiz was a smashing success. Two new
Spanish efforts to send major expeditions to Ireland were blown back by
storms in 1596 and 1597. In 1595, the crown was forced to declare bankruptcy
for the third time in less than four decades. By the last year of his life,
Felipe II was a chastened and disillusioned ruler who realized that dominance
of western Europe and the repression of heresy abroad had escaped him.
His last [263] major act was to conclude peace with France before
dying in 1598 at the age of 71.
The wisdom and prudence of Felipe II are open to doubt. He was stubborn
and persevering in strategy, but his tactics were sometimes erratic. He
occasionally followed long periods of caution by overreaching himself in
grandiose enterprises, such as the Armada, which had the odds against it
from the start. His drastic policy in the Low Countries proved partially
counterproductive.
There is no questioning his devotion to duty and his sense of personal
responsibility; he was the hardest working ruler of his time. Though he
distinguished between Spanish political and Catholic religious interests
in general European affairs (at one point in 1584 he was willing to subsidize
French Protestantism to weaken the French crown), his religious ardor was
genuine and complete, and he did far more than reason of state required
to combat heresy. Thus the supreme moment of his reign was indeed 1588,
when imperial interest and religious zeal were ideally combined in the
great Armada. It is possible that he made his reign unnecessarily difficult
by taking so much responsibility upon himself. At any rate, he had a great
distrust of strong personalities and powerful advisers, and was even preparing
to replace the brilliant Farnese at the moment of the latter's death in
1592.
With the passing of Felipe II, the Spanish politico-military hegemony
did not by any means come to an end but would last half a century more.
The Spanish sense of providential mission, however, of being the sword
arm of Catholic Christendom, of expanding a divinely guided empire, was
indeed beginning to wane. Multiple strains--economic, spiritual and psychological--compounded
by the frustrations of the unrewarding final decade of 1588-1598, were
leaving their effect.
Felipe III was a prince of pleasant, negative personality, with few
vices and few virtues. He lacked the industry and driving sense of responsibility
of his father and from the beginning left government to a personal favorite,
the duke of Lerma. This set the style of Spanish government for most of
the seventeenth century. Lerma had no long-range policy, but dealt with
the vast problems confronting the empire on the basis of makeshift and
procrastination.
There was clear reluctance to continue the aggressive policies of Felipe
II. Peace had already been made with France (1598); it was followed by
peace with England in 1604 and after another state [264] bankruptcy
in 1607 by a ten-year truce with Holland in 1609. The struggle to recover
all of the Low Countries had turned into a hopeless drain of men and money.
By the beginning of the seventeenth century, the seven northern provinces
that made up rebel Holland were on their way to becoming economically and
technologically the most dynamic part of western Europe, combining the
maritime enterprise and daring of the Portuguese of an earlier period with
the economic acumen of the Germans and north Italians. Holland presented
an increasing contrast to Spain itself, which had developed an almost closed
society during the sixteenth century and under the burden of war, taxes,
and its own social values was no longer able to expand economically. Holland
was becoming the freest, most open country in Europe, and for the next
two generations the most socially and economically creative. The truce
of 1609 recognized the apparent inability of Spain to reconquer it.
For most of the reign of Felipe III, the Spanish fleet remained the
strongest in the western world, but its margin of superiority was dwindling.
Sources of naval supplies in the peninsula were being exhausted and much
had to be imported from the north. Spanish wages rose more rapidly than
general prices in the early part of the seventeenth century, and costs
of naval construction, outfitting. and maintenance were much higher--possibly
two or three times higher-- than in Holland, England, or even France. Moreover,
the half century 1570-1620 was the heyday of west European piracy, and
Spanish shipping was the main target. When the conflict with Holland began
once more after expiration of the ten-year truce in 1619, the Dutch inflicted
a crushing defeat upon the Spanish fleet and made it clear that the naval
hegemony had passed from Spain.
The reign of Felipe III was a static period in most aspects of imperial
affairs, but the loss of naval leadership was grave, for control of communications
was vital to the integrity of the empire. Thus the apprehension and disillusion
noticeable in the last years of the reign of Felipe II slowly increased
during the period of his successor.
The era of Spanish domination almost inevitably brought the enmity of
most of western Europe against the Spanish crown and its subjects. This
hostility was tinged with deference, as witnessed by the vogue of dark-hued
Spanish clothing and the domination of Castilian literature and of Castilian
as a literary language in western Europe. But among the chief foes of Spain
and its royal policies there took shape a vague but sweeping denunciation,
not merely of Spanish power but of [265] almost all things Spanish.
The conceptualization of this enmity defined as uniquely Spanish the vices
of overweening pride, violence, intolerance, ethnocentrism, and obscurantism.
By the beginning of the seventeenth century it was taking the form in which
it would subsequently be known to Spaniards as the Black Legend.
The earliest roots of Black Legend theorizing lay in the anti-Aragonese
feeling generated in the Italian peninsula during the fourteenth and fifteenth
centuries. Denunciations of Aragonese expansion in the late Middle Ages
were sometimes coupled with racial sneers referring to race-mixing in the
Hispanic peninsula. By contrast, Italians preferred to consider themselves
comparatively "pure" descendants of ancient Romans. In the 1490s, the Aragonese
pope Alexander VI was called a marrano (Spanish Jew) by Italian
enemies. Anti-Aragonese sentiment in Italy changed to general anti-Spanish
and anti-Castilian feeling during the sixteenth century. By the middle
of that century, with the tension between Carlos V and German Protestants
and the first major Spanish campaigns in central Europe, German sources
also began to launch general denunciations of things Spanish. Even more
influential in building the image of brutal, violent, intolerant Spaniards
were the long war with Holland and the struggle with Elizabethan England.
The most important objective factor was the Spanish atrocities, particularly
during the bloody epoch of the duke of Alba in the Low Countries, for this
went beyond anything experienced in northwestern Europe in the sixteenth
century. The French seem to have contributed rather less to the early formulation
of the Black Legend, possibly because they usually equalled or surpassed
the Spanish in their own atrocities, as in the case of the St. Bartholomew's
Day massacre.
Paradoxically, the most important single document in establishing the
Black Legend was written by a Spanish monk, Bartolomé de las Casas,
in his effort to defend American Indians from the further depredations
of Spanish colonists. His account of the destruction of the Indians of
the West Indies, first published in 1552, was written in lurid, occasionally
exaggerated tones, and later republished in foreign editions by Spain's
detractors. (3)
It should be kept in mind, however, [266] that Las Casas' campaign
on behalf of the American Indians had been possible precisely because moral
and political protest, as distinct from heterodox religious protest, had
always been possible in Spain. For example, the Spanish crown of the Counter-Reformation
period never committed an arbitrary act in domestic politics equivalent
to the execution of Sir Walter Raleigh by the English crown.
The first full-blown statement of the Black Legend was the Apology
of the Dutch leader William the Silent, prepared in 1580 and circulated
throughout western Europe. It emphasized the fanaticism and cruelty of
Spaniards, the horrors of the Inquisition, the suppression of Moriscos,
destruction of "twenty million" Indians, the supposed tyranny of Spanish
political institutions, and varied imagined iniquities of the personal
life and reign of Felipe II. Some of this was invented and most of it was
greatly exaggerated, yet it contained a certain kernel of truth, particularly
for Dutchmen and Englishmen trying to preserve local freedoms, religious
choice, and a more open society than that of militant, Counter-Reformation
Castile.
[346] The best Spanish study of foreign affairs in the sixteenth
century is Manuel Fernández Alvarez, Política mundial
de Carlos V y Felipe II (Madrid, 1966). Fernand Braudel, La Méditerranée
et le monde méditerranéen a l'époque de [347]
Philippe II, rev. ed. (Paris, 1966), is classic synthesis of comparative
history. Aside from the work of Fernández Alvarez, the best biographies
of Carlos V are Karl Brandi, Charles V, Eng. tr. (London, 1965),
and Royall Tyler, The Emperor Charles V (London, 1956). On Felipe
II, see C. Bratli, Felipe II (Madrid, 1940); Fernández Alvarez's
Felipe II (Madrid, 1956); Rafael Altamira's Ensayo sobre Felipe
II (Mexico City, 1950); and Henri Lapeyre's "Autour de Philippe II,"
Bulletin Hispanique 59 (1957): 152-75.
On Spanish policy in North Africa there is Giancarlo Sorgia, La
politica nord-africana di Carlo V (Padua, 1963). Bohdan Chudoba,
Spain and the Empire, 1519-1643 (Chicago, 1952), is useful on relations
with the Austrian Habsburgs. Lucien Febvre, Philippe II et la Franche
Comté (Paris, 1921), deals with the Spanish Habsburgs' French
province. On the crown's Portuguese policy, see Alfonso Danvila, Felipe
II y la sucesión de Portugal (Madrid, 1956), and J. M. Rubio,
Felipe II de España, rey de Portugal (Madrid, 1939). Hans
Koenigsberger, The Government of Sicily under Philip II of Spain
(London, 1951), presents an interesting case study. Two biographies of
key imperial figures are M. Van Durme, El Cardenal Gran vela (Barcelona,
1957), and L. Van der Essen, Alexandre Farnése, 5 vols. (Brussels,
1933-37). The finest narrative of any event in sixteenth-century Spanish
history is Garrett Mattingly's The Armada (Boston, 1959).
Two works by J. A. Maravall are important on political theory: Carlos V y el pensamiento político del Renacimiento (Madrid, 1960), and La teoría española del Estado en el siglo XVII (Madrid, 1944). Spanish attitudes toward the imperial policies of Carlos V are treated in J. Sánchez Montes, Franceses, protestantes, turcos: Los españoles ante la política internacional de Carlos V (Madrid, 1951), and in J. M. Jover, Carlos V y los españoles (Madrid, 1960).
Genesis of the Black Legend has been studied by Sverker Arnoldsson, La leyenda negra (Goteborg, 1960). On its elaboration in England and later in the United States, see William S. Maltby, The Black Legend in England (Durham, N.C., 1971), and Philip W. Powell, Tree of Hate (New York, 1971).
1. According to the best available estimate, after 1581 the combined Spanish and Portuguese fleets totaled 250,000-300,000 tons, that of Holland about 230,000, those of the German states 110,000, France 80,000, and England 42,000.
2. Of the Spanish forces in the Low Countries after 1577, only 10 to 20 percent were actually soldiers from Spain itself.
3. The forged title page of the 1689 London edition of Las Casas' Very Brief Recital of the Destruction of the Indies, published as anti-Spanish propaganda, read, "Popery truly Displayed in its Bloody Colours: Or a Faithful Narrative of the Horrid and Unexampled Massacres, Butcheries, and all manner of Cruelties, that Hell and Malice could invent, committed by the Popish Spanish Party on the Inhabitants of West-India...Composed first in Spanish by Bartholomew de las Casas, a Bishop there, and an Eye-Witness of most of these Barbarous Cruelties; afterwards translated by him into Latin, then by other hands into High-Dutch, Low-Dutch, French, and now Taught to speak modern English."