Stafford Poole - Juan de Ovando - Governing The Spanish Empire in The Reign of Philip II (2004) PDF

Juan de Ovando
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Juan de Ovando
Governing the Spanish Empire

in the Reign of Philip II
STAFFORD POOLE
University of Oklahoma Press : Norman

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

between Spain’s Ministry of Education and Culture and United States’
Universities.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Poole, Stafford
Juan de Ovando : governing the Spanish Empire in the reign of Philip
II / Stafford Poole.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references.
ISBN 0–8061–3592–1 (alk. paper)
1. Ovando, Juan de. 2. Spain—History—Philip II, 1556–1598.
3. Statesmen—Spain—Biography. I. Title.
DP181.O83P66 2004
946'.043'092—dc22
[B]
2003067165
The paper in this book meets the guidelines for permanence and durability
of the Committee on Production Guidelines for Book Longevity of the
Council on Library Resources. ∞
Copyright © 2004 by the University of Oklahoma Press, Norman, Publishing

Division of the University. All rights reserved. Manufactured in the U.S.A.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
To the memory of my parents
Beatrice Hessie Smith and Joseph Outhwaite Poole, Sr.
Contents
Acknowledgments ix
1. The Spain of the Letrados 3
2. A Provincial First Family 22
3. The Provisor of Seville 29
4. The Reform of the University of Alcalá de Henares 56
5. The Council of the Supreme and General Inquisition 80
6. An Empire Threatened 98
7. The Visita of the Council of the Indies 116
8. The Grand Design 138
9. The Road to Bankruptcy 162
10. The King’s Good Servant 189
Appendix: Spanish Coinage of the Sixteenth Century 205
Glossary 207
Notes 215
Bibliography 269
Index 285
Acknowledgments
T
his book owes its origins, in however convoluted a way, to my
doctoral dissertation, “The Indian Problem in the Third Mexican
Provincial Council, 1585,” written under the direction of John Fran-
cis Bannon, S.J., and Ernest J. Burrus, S.J., two scholars to whom I owe a
great debt. My work on the council led to my interest in the archbishop
who convoked and presided over it, Pedro Moya de Contreras. From that
came my biography of this notable ecclesiastic that was published in 1987.
It was, however, impossible to deal with Moya de Contreras without in
some way considering his patron, Juan de Ovando. Several conversations
with the late José de la Peña Cámara, former director of the Archive of the
Indies in Seville, cemented my resolution to learn more about this impor-
tant though all but unknown minister of Philip II. This research brought
me to the realization that Ovando was important, not just in himself, but
for what he represented: the rising class of letrados who figured so promi-
nently in the government of Philip II. So it is that Ovando is presented to
the reading public.
I would like to express my gratitude to the Vincentian Fathers (Padres
Paúles) of the central house, Madrid; the Vincentian Community of San
Vicente de Paúl, Seville; and the provincial house of Salamanca for their
hospitality during my stay in Spain. I also wish to thank the administration
and staff of the Archivo Histórico Nacional, Madrid; the Countess of
Canilleros, for permission to use her family archive in Cáceres, and Doña
Fátima Martín Pedrilla, for guiding me through that archive; Father Evelio
Tábara Delgado of the Precious Blood Fathers, archivist of the Casa del Sol,
x ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Cáceres; don Gregorio de Andrés, librarian of the Instituto de Valencia de

Don Juan, Madrid; María Teresa Baratech Zalama, director of the Archivo
Histórico de Protocolos, Madrid; Javier de Carlos Morales, who shared
information on the hacienda real; don Pedro Rubio Moreno, archivist of the
archdiocese of Seville; the administration and staff of the Archivo General
de Indias, Seville; the administration and staff of the Archivo General de
Simancas, Simancas, especially Señorita Isabel Aguirre Landa; Professor
Ida Altman of the University of New Orleans, who generously shared her
research into the Ovando family; and Professor Kevin Terraciano who gained
me access to books that otherwise would have been difficult to consult.
I would like to give special thanks to Richard Greenleaf, professor
emeritus of Tulane University; the late Professor Woodrow Borah of the
Department of History, University of California, Berkeley; and Professor
Demetrio Ramos of the Semanario de Estudios Americanos, Valladolid, all
of whom helped me to obtain a grant from the Comité Conjunto Hispano
Norteamericano para la Cooperación Cultural y Educativa that made it
possible to do the research for the book.
Acknowledgment is also due to the pioneering studies by a number of
major scholars, without whose work this book would not have been com-
pleted or even begun. These include Henry Kamen, Geoffrey Parker, and
A. W. Lovett. My dependence on their work is apparent throughout. José
de la Peña Cámara had a longtime dream that Ovando’s biography would
someday be written. In addition to doing pioneer research and writing
about Ovando’s career, he encouraged me to follow out this project and
guided me to important documents. Without him this work would not
have been possible.
Last, a word of appreciation is due to the management and staff of the
Bar Restaurante Amaya in Madrid, whose good food and warm ambience
restored me in body and spirit after hours in unheated archives.
Juan de Ovando
CHAPTER ONE
The Spain of the Letrados
I
n 1554, in the waning years of the reign of Charles V, there appeared in
Spain an anonymously written novella, Lazarillo de Tormes. One of the
first picaresque novels, it detailed the story of a wandering homeless
boy who served a number of masters and in so doing drew a vivid picture
of the underside of Spanish life at the height of the country’s imperial
glory. In one of the great scenes in Spanish literature, he becomes a servant
to a squire (escudero), a man with pretensions to nobility and status from
whom Lazarillo hopes to obtain at least a few good meals.1 It slowly
dawns on the boy that the squire has no money and is, in fact, starving. A
model of Spanish punctiliousness and honor, the squire is simultaneously
ridiculous and pathetic. He is last seen walking down the street to change
money he does not have for rent that he will never pay.
The Lazarillo is a satire, and many have seen in the squire’s story a picture
of Spain itself as it stood precariously on the edge of decline. “We are left
wondering,” observed Gerald Brenan, “what strange people these Spaniards
are whose pretensions to gentility make them prefer starvation to the
ignominy of working.”2 It would be rash to accept this picture uncritically.
It is true that in the aftermath of the reconquest of Spain from the Moors
(718–1492) and the establishment of the New World empire, many upper-
class Spaniards—not just squires but hidalgos, members of the lower
nobility—found themselves in straitened conditions. This was particularly
true as many from the bourgeoisie purchased titles of nobility and so
raised their status. Such a title, however, was no guarantee of income.
Where the picture painted in the Lazarillo and Brenan’s conclusion go awry
4 JUAN DE OVANDO
is in the fact that not all of these people preferred starvation to work. The
hidalgos proved themselves adaptable to the new times and found another
means of social advancement: they entered the Spanish imperial bureau-
cracy. Like other ambitious young men, they chose the world of the letra-
dos, lawyer–civil servants who proliferated with the bureaucracy and
came to dominate it.
When Christopher Columbus was received by Fernando and Isabel at
Barcelona on his return from the first voyage of discovery in March 1493,
neither he nor anyone else present could have foreseen the Spanish empire
of sixty years later. Castilian imperial expansion was something unex-
pected. It was the work of private enterprise, with royal permission, fol-
lowed by royal intrusion. As geographic knowledge of the newly found
areas expanded, and with it the realization that it was indeed a new world
to Europeans, so did the conquests. After each conquest came consolida-
tion. And with consolidation came the bureaucrats.
At first, the governmental structure of the newly won territories was
improvised, based for the most part on Castilian institutions adapted to
meet the needs of the frontier. Older forms were changed to meet the
demands of expanded rule, and new ones were devised. Because the dis-
covery and subjugation of the Indies belonged by right to Castile, not to
the other kingdoms that constituted the polity now known as Spain, the
earliest governmental agency was the Royal Council, later known as the
Council of Castile. In effect, Queen Isabel ruled the New World through
her privy council.
In 1503, not long before her death, the queen founded the Casa de Con-
tratación, the equivalent of a board of trade. Its functions were primarily
commercial and financial, but it also controlled emigration to the Indies.
The dominant voice in colonial matters, however, belonged to Juan Rodrí-
guez de Fonseca, bishop of Burgos, a man whose personal qualities were
not on a par with his administrative talent. From 1506 to 1516, when Fer-
nando acted as regent of Castile for his young grandson, the future Charles
I (more commonly known as Charles V, from his title, Holy Roman Em-
peror), the Indies were viewed primarily in terms of exploitation. This view
contributed to the extinction of the natives on the Caribbean islands ruled
by Spain.
As Spanish rule spread to the mainland, it became clear that a new admin-
istrative structure was needed. In 1524 Charles V created the Royal and
THE SPAIN OF THE LETRADOS 5
Supreme Council of the Indies, the first of the territorial councils. It served
as an advisory body to the king, to be consulted when convenient on all
matters relating to Castile’s possessions in the New World; the Casa de
Contratación continued to handle routine financial affairs. As the bureau-
cracy expanded to meet the needs of the New World, it also underwent an
evolution in the Old. In the early years of Charles’s reign (1516–56), Spain
was viewed by the Flemish monarch and his northern European advisers
as an appendage to what was to be a larger empire, embracing the Holy
Roman Empire, the Low Countries, and parts of Italy. The Spanish reac-
tion, peninsular and localized, was a series of revolts centered in some of
the urban districts and hence called the comunero revolts (1517–22). When
these had been subdued, Charles was wise enough to adjust himself to
Spanish sensitivities. As he grew older, he became more Hispanicized. So
did the civil service.
Though his son, Philip II (1556–98), is often styled king of Spain, and he
thought of himself as such, his was not a unified state, nor was he an
absolute monarch. The various kingdoms on the Iberian Peninsula had their
own financial regulations, currencies, and customs barriers. As John Lynch
observed, Fernando and Isabel gave Spain a common government but not a
common administration.3 The king’s rule varied in structure and power
from kingdom to kingdom, city to city. Powerful blocs, such as the clergy or
the old nobility, acted as checks on his authority. Philip’s power over Aragon
was far more attenuated than it was over Castile. The various states were
united only in the person of the king. His rule actually was based on two
contrasting theories of government. One was medieval in origin and was at
least implicitly constitutional. Spain was viewed as comprising a number of
kingdoms (reinos), which in turn were composed of city-states (comunidades),
each with its own charter of liberties (fueros). In each the king ruled in a dif-
ferent way as enunciated in the fueros. This concept of the reino and the
comunidad remained strong in the sixteenth century, and correspondents
were wont to refer to “ese corte” and “este corte,” meaning Spain or the New
World depending on where the writer was located. At the same time a
newer ideology was emerging, that of the nation-state, with the king as the
center of unity, a centralized and increasingly complex bureaucracy, a fixed
capital (in contrast to the peripatetic habits of previous rulers), and all the
apparatus of a modern state. It was this second concept that was embraced
by the rising class of bureaucrats called letrados.
6 JUAN DE OVANDO
Despite the changes, the medieval concept of the king as the dispenser
of justice to his vassals or as first among equals remained strong.4 Though
the king ruled for and under God, he did not rule by divine right. Castil-
ian kings were not anointed or crowned, nor did they amass crown jewels.5
Their portraits showed them in military or civilian dress, not the silks and
ermines of the French Bourbons. They did not use the “We” of majesty but
the simple “I.” Later in his reign Philip II abandoned the honorific address
Sacra Católica Real Majestad (Sacred Catholic Royal Majesty) in favor of
the older Señor, for which he was lavishly congratulated by Gerónimo de
Mendieta, the famed missionary and chronicler. Spanish government and
society were a composite of corporate and special interests, all of which
looked to the king as their supreme arbiter. The policy of the Habsburgs
was to balance one group against another, with the king as the final arbiter.
This accounts for the fact that royal policies often vacillated, first favoring
one interest, then another, without concern for the contradictions involved.
No one group, faction, or person was allowed to become dominant, at least
not for long.
Philip administered his kingdoms through a series of councils whose
number grew from eleven to fourteen during his reign.6 These were of two
kinds: territorial and nonterritorial. First in importance among the territo-
rial councils were the Council of Castile (which was also the supreme judi-
cial court, established in 1480) and the Council of State (1523–24). The latter
was concerned primarily with foreign affairs. The other territorial councils
were the Indies (1524), Italy (1555), Portugal (1582), Flanders (1588), and
Aragon (1494). The Cámara de Castilla (1518) dealt with matters of patron-
age in Castile, that is, the appointment of bishops and beneficiados (holders of
an ecclesiastical office to which an income was attached). It was originally
a sort of council within the Council of Castile: its president was the presi-
dent of that council together with three senior members. It was reorgan-
ized in 1588, apparently to receive a greater degree of independence.7 The
nonterritorial councils were the Inquisition (1481), Military Orders (1494),
the Cruzada (1509), Finance or Hacienda (1523), and War (1524). In addi-
tion, there was a Standing Committee on Works and Forests (Junta de
Obras y Bosques, 1545).8 All of these councils were purely advisory. In the
maze of states and administrations, only the king had access to all infor-
mation. Individuals were often members of more than one council or could
be given entrada (entry) to another council to discuss specific business.
In the last half of the sixteenth century, Castile emerged as the para-
mount force in the Spanish states and the one to which the good of the
others was subordinated.9 In territory and population it was the largest
kingdom on the Iberian Peninsula. During Philip’s reign, not only did
Castile come to dominate the bureaucracy, but the bureaucrats themselves
became more Castilianized. The Council of Castile developed into an advi-
sory body for all Spanish affairs, not just for those of one kingdom. In gen-
eral, the royal ministers and servants at all levels became more parochial
and peninsular in their outlook. They were less concerned and less knowl-
edgeable about European and American affairs, and most had no personal
experience of the places about which they were giving advice. Councillors
all too frequently showed an astounding ignorance of matters in New
Spain, Peru, or Flanders. Yet within their narrow spheres, they were often
capable, well-educated lawyers. They were the letrados, the “men of letters.”
By the mid-sixteenth century the letrados had assumed a corporate
identity: they were often from the lower or middle nobility or poorer classes
and were trained in law at one of the great universities, dedicated civil ser-
vants, or churchmen who spent their lives in the service of the state as much
as the church—or rather who regarded service to one as service to the
other. They had begun their ascent in the bureaucracy long before the six-
teenth century, perhaps as early as the reign of Alfonso XI (1312–50).10
Enrique IV of Castile (1454–74) had ruled that his Royal Council should
have at least eight letrados. When that council became the Council of
Castile, it was given a majority of letrado members. Fernando and Isabel,
known as the Catholic Monarchs, continued the practice and expanded it,
so that by 1493 letrados totally controlled the council. They grew in pres-
tige and from 1475 on began to predominate in the ranks of bishops. Those
who held doctorates from the Universities of Bologna, Salamanca, and Val-
ladolid (and later Alcalá de Henares) were tax exempt, a privilege that put
them on a par with the hidalgos. The letrados were a constantly expanding
class, yet paradoxically they tried to remain closed and exclusive, espe-
cially through the statutes of purity of blood (limpieza de sangre).
In theory, though not always in practice, wisdom was still regarded as
residing in persons of cloak and sword (capa y espada), the grandes and títulos
who formed the highest ranks of the nobility.11 The nobles had been curbed
by the Catholic Monarchs and Charles V, but men like the duke of Alba
and the counts of Feria and Chinchón still felt entitled by birth to major
8 JUAN DE OVANDO
roles in the royal service. Hence the royal bureaucracy became divided
between those who believed that heredity and ancient bloodlines were the
keys to high positions and those who relied on merit. The two groups were
natural rivals for power and influence. One result was an enduring hostil-
ity. In 1578 the Admiral of Castile fumed, “[T]he king’s government is not
a government of justice but of tyranny and vengeance. Everything is in the
hands of lowly and vindictive people, many of whose fathers were
Comuneros.”12
The conciliar system and the letrados who staffed it gave Spain one of
the most efficient civil services in Europe, but this description is relative.13
John Elliot has given a balanced evaluation of it: “In terms of well-developed
and professionally run bureaucratic organization, the Spain of Philip II
was the most advanced state in sixteenth-century Europe. . . . We all know
the defects of this bureaucracy, that it was cumbersome, corrupt, and
appallingly slow.”14 Efficiency was hindered by many factors, foremost
among them the king’s personality. He demanded that work be carried out
in writing rather than orally, with a consequent growth in the quantity of
paperwork, a trait that earned him the name el rey papelero (the paper
king).15 He was slow to make decisions and sometimes allowed problems
to languish in a bureaucratic limbo without any resolution. Philip did not
attend council meetings, and councillors were often afraid to express them-
selves while ignorant of the king’s feelings. At times he would ignore or
reverse a council’s recommendations without informing them. He also lacked
an understanding of many aspects of government, especially finances. His
demand for absolute loyalty and his suspicion of independence, together
with an intimidating presence, tended to keep his councilors reticent and
afraid to speak openly.16 At times the provincialism of the royal councillors
blinded them to the world outside Castile, especially Flanders and the
Indies.
Another factor was the obsessive distrust that Philip, like most Spanish
monarchs, had of his ministers. He rarely allowed any one adviser to have
complete access to information on a subject. Counsel was sought from one,
then from another, but without the two being put into communication
with each other. In this way he not only kept the complete picture to him-
self but also was able to learn what his ministers thought of each other.
Similarly, the letrados, who owed their status to the king, not to birth,
served as a useful counterbalance to the grandes. The location of the royal
capital in Madrid, with Seville as the gateway to the New World, helped to
centralize the bureaucracy, bringing it closer to the king but farther from
the country at large. It was the letrados whose skill and dedication helped
to counteract the centrifugal forces of the empire and keep it from splin-
tering. Even today, it seems incredible that Spain was able to rule the Indies
for almost two and a half centuries without a standing army.
One reason for the prominence of the letrados was Philip’s belief that
the nobility, with their extended families and clients, brought factionalism
into the government.17 Yet the letrados also belonged to bandos, or factions.
A common pattern was that a young university graduate would come
under the patronage of a powerful secretary and serve a kind of appren-
ticeship. He, in turn, would become the patron of others, a process that is
clearly seen in the careers of Juan de Ovando and Mateo Vázquez de Leca.
Cardinal Diego de Espinosa, at the height of his power, kept a list of prom-
ising young men, their sponsors, and the offices available to them.18 As a
result Castilian government in the sixteenth century was a government by
factions. The king was the center from which emanated all favor. This was
especially clear in the case of the letrados, who had no independent status
or power base.19 The structure of patron-client relationship was founded
on personal relationships. These were personal, mutual, dependent,
reflecting a vertical social structure.
In the late 1550s Charles V’s impending abdication set the stage for a
power struggle, as various groups sought to ingratiate themselves with
Prince Philip, the future sovereign.20 In the last years of the old reign and
the first years of the new, the dominant figures were Fernando de Valdés
and the duke of Alba. Valdés, who at one time or another was archbishop
of Seville, president of the Royal Council, president of the Council of the
Inquisition, and a member of the Cámara de Castilla, emerged as the dom-
inant figure between 1545 and 1547.21 He and his allies had inherited a web
of clients and patronage from Charles V’s secretary, Francisco de los Cobos.
With Prince Philip’s departure for England in 1554 for his marriage to
Mary Tudor and the coming abdication of Charles V, an anti-Valdés group
began to coalesce around Philip’s sister Juana, the regent of Castile, and
Ruy Gómez de Silva, the future Prince of Eboli, a childhood friend of
Philip’s.22 As a result a major struggle broke out for control of the councils
in 1554 that would last until about 1560. In taking over the organs of gov-
ernment, the ebolistas first went after the Council of Finance, which was
10 JUAN DE OVANDO
still dominated by former clients of Cobos under the presidency of Juan

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

generation of letrados.
Their leader was Diego de Espinosa, who at this time began to come
between Eboli and Philip II.30 His rise was meteoric, and he became the
most powerful person in Spanish government in that century, though the
precise process by which this came about is not clear.31 In part it may have
been an effort by the king to gain mastery over the increasing volume of
paperwork and routine business from the councils. The granting of so
much power to one man went against Philip’s mode of government, and
after Espinosa’s death in 1572 he would never again employ such a pow-
erful minister. The cardinal’s rise also coincided with a marked change in
governmental administration between 1565 and 1573: the ascendancy of
the letrados, the beginnings of the junta system of ad hoc committees as a
means of bypassing the councils, a hard-line policy toward the Flemish
rebels and the moriscos, and the imposition of a religious culture based on
the reforms of the Council of Trent and the Catholic Reformation.32 This
kind of government could be administered by letrados but not by nobles.
Espinosa, who had an open disdain for the nobility, placed letrados in key
positions. At a later date Juan de Ovando tried to have the king appoint a
letrado as viceroy of New Spain, a bold but abortive move to displace the
nobility. A peculiar aspect of Espinosa’s ascendancy was that it brought
about reconciliation between Eboli and Alba.
The great noble families dominated the general councils of government
or those concerned with wider empire, such as the Councils of State, War,
and Italy. The letrados dominated those councils that were immediately
concerned with Castile and that required legal expertise, such as Finance,
the Inquisition, and the Indies. With the rise of Espinosa, however, the use
of juntas, whose membership the letrados could also control, increased.
The nobles were rarely knowledgeable about specific areas, such as finance
and the Indies, and so there arose a lack of coordination between the juntas
and the councils. José Martínez Millán says that “the system of juntas repre-
sented the triumph of personal relations over institutional ones in the exer-
cise of power,” especially because the juntas lacked even the most basic
regulations for their functioning.33 The only requisite for their foundation
and membership was the will of the monarch. There were other factors at
work, however. Because the juntas were easier to control, they could also
be more efficient. The persons called to them were expected to be more
12 JUAN DE OVANDO
expert in their fields than the traditional councillors. Also, in these years,
several of the councils, such as Finance and the Indies, had come under a
shadow because of corruption or incompetence.34
The reign of Philip II was one of almost uninterrupted crises, especially
in the area of finance. The entire sixteenth century was a period of financial
difficulty for Spain, but under Philip II, the difficulty escalated into crisis.
Three times the crown had to suspend payment on its debts, the equivalent
of declaring bankruptcy. The bullion that came from the Indies passed
through Spain to pay for Habsburg policies outside the peninsula. Most of
the financing of the government was in the hands of foreigners. Few of the
king’s advisers were equipped by training or knowledge to give proper
counsel. Juan de Ovando played a major role in the financial planning of
the kingdom, but his role, as will be seen, was somewhat equivocal.
Although sixteenth-century Spain was in theory universally Catholic,
the religious picture was complex. There was no uniformity of religious
practice, at least not before the reforms of the Council of Trent (1545–63).
An external allegiance to the established church did not necessarily indi-
cate a high degree of religious literacy or practice. Though the reforms
introduced by Fernando and Isabel and carried out by the queen’s confes-
sor, Cardinal Francisco Jiménez de Cisneros, have been credited with
cleansing the church and uprooting the abuses that led to religious revolt
in other countries, these reforms were in fact rather limited.35
Until the time of the Council of Trent, religious observance seems to
have been inconsistent. There is evidence of widespread religious illiter-
acy and general ignorance of doctrine and prayers, combined with a heavy
overlay of superstition.36 There were no formal means of religious instruc-
tion outside the home or, for a minority, the schools. Sunday sermons were
not a general practice, especially in rural areas where there were relatively
few educated priests—if there were any priests at all. Religious practice
was largely local in character, centered on devotions to the Virgin Mary
and patron saints. The exalted mysticism of Teresa of Avila and John of the
Cross existed side by side with superstition and a satisfaction with exter-
nals. Pilgrimages, processions, the cult of saints, the celebration of patronal
feasts of churches, confraternities, and villages were often the totality of
religious observance for many.
According to Henry Kamen, the clergy constituted about 1.2 percent of the
Spanish population of 1591, a proportion that is not very high. William S.
Christian’s figure for that same year, one priest for every forty-two house-
holds, seems more realistic.37 As in other parts of Europe at this time, the
clergy were unevenly distributed. Whereas urban areas had a surfeit of
clergy, rural districts often lacked the most elementary religious ministries.
The quality of these priests is more difficult to evaluate. University gradu-
ates, of course, were better educated than their nonuniversity counterparts,
but they rarely located in rural areas. The only institution in Spain that had
as its primary purpose the training of priests was the University of Alcalá
de Henares. The colegios mayores (residential colleges) of major universities
such as Alcalá, Salamanca, and Valladolid often had a high proportion of
clerics whose training was almost monastic in form and tone. They consti-
tuted an elite, and many came to hold important bishoprics, though they
often dedicated more time to civil government than to their ecclesiastical
duties.
The Council of Trent, whose decrees were accepted and implemented
in the Spanish dominions at an early date, had a profound positive influ-
ence.38 The education and spiritual formation of the clergy became a high
priority. Although bishops often introduced the Tridentine reforms into
their dioceses, many bishops and clerics (such as Ovando) continued to
have full-time careers in civil government. The clergy had a fixed place in
society and entrance into the priesthood was a gateway to social advance-
ment. For the bishops, whether reformers or not, a principal difficulty was
the chapters (cabildos), which often had, or claimed, more power over the
administration of the diocese than did the bishops.
In addition to diocesan priests, Spain was filled with various kinds of
religious orders: Benedictines, Mercedarians, Carthusians, Carmelites,
Franciscans, Dominicans, Augustinians, and, later in the century, Jesuits.
In general, the reputation of religious priests was superior to that of dioce-
sans. Their spiritual education was more systematic, and their theological
education was generally superior. They enjoyed a better reputation as
preachers, especially in periodic sermons such as missions or special cele-
brations. Because the orders were international in their organization, with
superiors general and administrative offices in Rome rather than in Spain,
they tended to be less subject to the authority of the crown. The crown’s
response was an attempt to nationalize the orders, especially by the appoint-
ment of commissaries who took over the functions of superiors general
within the Spanish dominions.
14 JUAN DE OVANDO
Relations between church and state were governed by the patronato real,
a complex series of concessions from the papacy and intrusions by the state
that gave the crown sweeping control over the life and administration of
the church.39 Without doubt, the strongest element of royal control was the
right to nominate, that is, virtually to appoint, bishops and higher ecclesi-
astical officers. Though less clear and less extensive than it was in the New
World, the patronato in Spain was still a potent instrument for dominating
an institution that touched every aspect of Spanish life. The Catholic Church
in Spain was for the most part independent of the papacy; it looked more
to the Escorial than to Rome. Spanish monarchs from Fernando and Isabel
to Philip II had achieved the same goal as Henry VIII of England but with-
out the need for formal rupture or schism.
In modern thinking, religion in sixteenth-century Spain is inevitably
associated with the Spanish Inquisition. In literature, movies, opera, and
drama, it has often been depicted as an omnipotent state within a state,
intimidating even the monarchs and imposing a stifling orthodoxy on a
cowed population.40 Like most human institutions, however, the Inquisi-
tion was far from being consistent or uniform. It was complex and uneven,
upright and corrupt, religious and secular—an institution whose purpose,
mentality, and operation continue to baffle the non-Spanish mind.
In part the Inquisition grew out of a need, real or imagined, to control
two major ethnic minorities within Spanish society: recent converts from
Islam (Moriscos) or Judaism (conversos, confesos, marranos).41 The Moriscos,
because of their distinctive language, dress, and culture and their close
resemblance to the Arab enemies, were viewed as a threat to a nation that
had only recently achieved a semblance of national unity, in part by con-
quering the kingdom of Granada, the last Moorish stronghold in the Iber-
ian Peninsula. They were also viewed with suspicion by the populace and
suffered hostility and persecution. A series of popular revolts in the late
sixteenth century, which confirmed the common Spanish prejudice and
which were brutally suppressed, led to official attempts to disperse the
Morisco population throughout Spain. In 1609 all Moriscos were expelled.
They never posed a threat within the structure of Spanish Catholicism,
however, for few if any were found in the ranks of the priesthood or the
religious orders. The conversos were different.
Throughout most of the Middle Ages Jews and Christians lived together
in Spain in a form of mutual accommodation called convivencia.42 This
meant more than just coexistence; it was the toleration of a minority reli-
gion by the majority one.43 It embraced a complex web of social, economic,
political, and familial relationships. Convivencia began to erode in the
fourteenth century, because of its intrinsic fragility, the strains caused by
the reconquest of Christian territory from the Moors, economic rivalry, and
the tendency to blame the Jews for poor economic conditions. In 1391 anti-
Semitic disturbances broke out in Seville and quickly spread to other cities.44
Though these attacks were limited in scope and peace was soon restored,
they were harbingers of greater difficulties to come. One result was an
increase in conversions that brought large numbers of Jews into the Catholic
Church.45 Together with conversos who had entered the church through
genuine conviction, they swelled the number of New Christians in Span-
ish society. In contrast to the Moriscos, who remained isolated by barriers
of dress, language, and culture, the conversos advanced rapidly in all sec-
tors of Spanish society, including the church.46 The expulsion of all non-
Christian Jews from Spain by the Catholic Monarchs in 1492, which brought
a painful choice between conversion or exile, also added to the ranks of the
conversos. Thousands of Jews converted to Catholicism in a simple quest
for survival. The Spanish state and church found themselves with a large
minority of converts whose sincerity often seemed questionable.
As the conversos grew in numbers and influence during the fifteenth
century, so did anticonverso sentiment. For the most part this animosity
was confined to Castile.47 There was widespread suspicion that the con-
versions were not sincere and that the presence of so many newly con-
verted constituted a threat to Christians.48 In 1449 an anticonverso riot
broke out in Toledo, where they were blamed for an oppressive tax. Actu-
ally it was a sign of increased tensions arising from political instability in
Castile. As a result a statute was passed by the city whereby Christians of
Jewish descent were banned from all public and private offices in the city
and its jurisdictions.49 In contrast to the spontaneous disturbances in
Seville, the anticonverso riots in Toledo and other places were carefully
organized. The reason was most probably envy of the wealth and status
of the conversos, who were seen as an aggressive and ambitious group,
unlike the Jews, who tried to remain inconspicuous.50 Many of the con-
versos entered the priesthood and the religious orders, either out of sin-
cere enthusiasm for their new faith or as protection against suspicion of
crypto-Judaism.
16 JUAN DE OVANDO
The presence of the conversos in Spanish society produced a backlash,

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

Silíceo (a tutor of the young Philip II) in 1547.57 Beginning with San Bartolomé
at Salamanca, the colegios mayores banned conversos from membership
and scholarships.58 This statute was the model for that of the Toledo chap-
ter. San Ildefonso at Alcalá followed suit in 1519, but in all probability this
was not effectively enforced.59 Except for the school of theology, sentiment
at Alcalá was not favorable to anticonverso legislation.
This discrimination became more widespread by the mid-sixteenth cen-
tury, but even then it remained limited in scope. The statutes were a matter
of private, not civil or canon, law. The institutions with limpieza de sangre
statutes were the Inquisition, the six colegios mayores of Castile, the Military
Orders, some universities, several religious orders, a handful of town coun-
cils, and the cathedrals of Badajoz, Toledo, Seville, Sigüenza, Córdoba, Jaén,
Osma, León, Oviedo, and Valencia.60 On the other hand, conversos were
not banned from being pastors, bishops, secretaries to the king, or members
of royal councils. And doubtful lineage did not prevent some individuals
from attaining high positions in the court of Philip II.61
Though the pretext for the statutes was the preservation of orthodox
faith, ecclesiastical organizations other than cathedral chapters were slow
to adopt them. For a long time the Inquisition’s attitude was ambiguous.62
Religious orders on the whole were slow to adopt the statutes. One of the
earliest to do so was the Hieronymite order in 1495.63 It appears that the
Dominicans never had a general exclusion, and there was strong opposi-
tion to the statutes within the order.64 The Franciscans had one, but it was
inconsistently enforced and received opposition. The Jesuits were the
longest holdouts. Ignatius of Loyola refused to exclude conversos, and two
of his early associates, Diego Laínez and Juan Alonso de Polanco, were of
converso extraction. By the 1570s the pressure for exclusion was growing,
in part because some Spanish Jesuits feared that the Society was becoming
known as a refuge for conversos. The final exclusion came in 1593.
There was opposition to these statutes, both in Spain and in Rome.65
Silíceo’s statute was condemned by the University of Alcalá.66 The city
authorities of Toledo opposed it, as did the bishop and clergy of Sigüenza
and the Royal Council. In September 1547 Prince Philip suspended it,
though he ratified it nine years later, when he was king.67 In 1565 Pope
Paul IV refused to approve a more stringent statute for the chapter of
Seville.68 Although opposition continued, anticonverso sentiment gained
18 JUAN DE OVANDO
ground in the last half of the sixteenth century. Why? A partial answer may
be found in the growing influence of the letrados. Their outlook and atti-
tudes were narrowly Castilian. A large number of them were educated at
San Bartolomé (bartolomicos), a bastion of anticonverso sentiment, and their
elitism and exclusivity may have added to their desire to keep Castilian
administration free of conversos. The controversies over the statutes, how-
ever, continued well into the seventeenth century.
It would seem that the statutes of limpieza de sangre were racially moti-
vated, but in the last half of the sixteenth century the situation was much
more complex. Jean-Pierre Dedieu asserts that being a biological converso
was “a true original sin,” one that could not be expunged (imborrable).69
Norman Roth believes that the statutes were strongly racial, the precursor
of modern racialist anti-Semitism. According to him, the hatred of the Jews
was directed at the people, not the religion, and this carried over to the
conversos. Because of official church policy, the “bigots” had to fall back on
limpieza de sangre. “Accordingly, it was not that the conversos were not
‘good Christians,’ for in fact everyone knew they were, but that inherent
characteristics corrupted them (‘Jewish blood’), and through them would
corrupt all of Christian society. The only solution to this imagined threat
was, first, the total isolation of conversos in society, and, finally, their com-
plete elimination through the fires of the Inquisition.”70 Even if they were
devout enough to escape the Inquisition, they found themselves margin-
alized for the mere fact of Jewish descent. “Their complete elimination
through the fires of the Inquisition” is too strong and simplistic a state-
ment. It ignores the fact that after 1530 “the Inquisition’s prosecution of
conversos declined almost everywhere in Spain.”71 There was never a
genocidal element in the statutes or in anticonverso prejudice. The racial
element was dominant only in the early years of the statutes and inquisi-
torial persecution.72 By the mid-sixteenth century the letrados’ wholesale
embrace of limpieza was as much a matter of self-definition vis-à-vis the
nobility, defensiveness, political advancement, and status seeking as it was
of racial lineage.73
Hence race alone did not define limpieza de sangre. After the establish-
ment of the Spanish Inquisition it came to include those whose parents or
grandparents had been condemned by the Holy Office. It was not just
Jewish or Moorish blood that was contaminated; by midcentury it also
included ancestors who had been punished by civil justice or who held
demeaning occupations (such as public executioner or butcher). Tainted

lineage brought with it an automatic infamy that was passed from gener-
ation to generation. This concept of infamy was an essential element of
limpieza de sangre.74 Race and infamy were components of a larger com-
plex of social, political, and clannish attitudes. By the second half of the
sixteenth century there was little danger to Christianity in Castile from the
conversos. Statutes of limpieza kept the world of the letrados exclusive
even while, paradoxically, their numbers were expanding. They gave
these letrados the prestige of a background that was unsullied by blem-
ishes, whether racial, religious, criminal, or even, in some cases, lower
working class.75 This untainted background added to the letrados’ stand-
ing in their ongoing struggle to supplant the nobility of blood, many of
whom had Jewish ancestry, in the upper reaches of Castilian government.
Limpieza was the letrados’ answer to the ancient bloodlines of the hered-
itary nobility.
Appearance and perception were as important as the reality. So it was
that limpieza de sangre, so closely associated with the world of the letra-
dos, could be manipulated to meet their needs. With the passage of time it
became more difficult to uncover converso ancestry. Rich and influential
people, such as Mateo Vázquez de Leca, found it easier to employ favor-
able witnesses and compliant genealogists. Poderoso caballero es don dinero:
Don Money is a powerful gentleman. The result was a genre of fanciful
genealogies fabricated to assure limpieza.76 It is instructive to look at the
origins of some of the men who rose to positions of power under Philip II.
Cardinal Diego de Espinosa came from impoverished rural nobility in Old
Castile and was twice refused entrance into the prestigious colegio mayor
of San Bartolomé at the University of Salamanca. He may well have been
of converso extraction. Antonio Pérez was the illegitimate son of a con-
verso cleric who had also been a letrado and royal secretary.77 Benito Arias
Montano may also have been of converso origin, though the question is
disputed. Juan de Ovando’s father was a poor farmer and the illegitimate
son of a local noble. Mateo Vázquez de Leca sprang from origins so murky
that they cannot be reconstructed with certainty. In middle age he was
obliged to invent a genealogy to account for his background. Yet in 1575
Ovando vetoed the appointment of a cleric as chaplain to the king because
of rumors that the man’s lineage was not clean.78 Though Ovando knew
for a fact that it was, the rumors were sufficient to prevent the appointment
20 JUAN DE OVANDO
because there could be no suspicion attached to one who served the king
so closely. Policy and expediency could and did coexist.
Despite its moves against Moriscos and conversos, the Inquisition’s
primary function was to ferret out and punish unorthodox doctrines. By
the mid-sixteenth century the special targets were anyone suspected of
Lutheranism (the global term for any sort of Protestant belief) and the
alumbrados, or illuminists. The latter were attracted to a personal, nonorgan-
izational type of religion. Inspired in part by the writings and teachings of
the Dutch humanist Desiderius Erasmus (1466?–1536), they looked for a
simpler form of religious life, with emphasis on ethical conduct and a
direct experience of the divine rather than externals. Early in the century
the Erasmian current had come under the suspicion of the Inquisition, but
it was not until Fernando de Valdés became Inquisitor General in 1547 that
wholesale persecution began. Valdés made use of Ovando to combat the
Erasmian and illuminist trends in Seville. By 1560, however, crypto-Jews
and heretics were less of a threat, and the Inquisition became more of an
instrument of social control and moral discipline.79
The reign of Philip II was crucial in the history of the Spanish empire in
the New World. This period is often depicted as one in which exploitation
of native labor as a source of wealth for Philip’s foreign policy became
fixed in the Indies, a time when the “American reality” triumphed over the
humanitarian campaigns of Bartolomé de las Casas and others. “With the
accession to the throne of Philip II (1556), however,” writes Benjamin Keen,
“the Indianist movement headed by Las Casas began a steep decline.
Faced with a desperate financial crisis, Philip undertook to augment the
royal revenues from the Indies. . . . [T]he Lascasian reform program was
dead.”80 Juan Friede has a similar opinion: “The change in the Crown’s
Indian policy, which began with the accession of Philip II, was reflected in
innumerable cases, and especially in the growing disinterest of the Coun-
cil of the Indies in Indian problems.” He bases this in part on the fewer
number of cédulas (royal decrees) that dealt with Indian problems and the
fact that the Council of the Indies was turning Indian questions over to the
civil officials in the Indies.
The most significant defeat of the Lascasian movement was the

decree of 13 May 1556, which revoked the decree of 1549, which had
prohibited new conquests. Although the latter had never been strictly
enforced, it had been the most resounding triumph of the Lascasian

movement and its revocation signified the end of that movement. . . .
The aged Protector of the Indians, the ex-Bishop of Chiapas, saw the
collapse of the structure he had built over fifty years of continual
struggle in behalf of the Indian. . . . Las Casas was no longer active
and dangerous. He was a venerable but quite uninfluential ancient
who would not admit defeat.81
Kamen, however, defends Philip as a patron of las Casas and a sovereign

sincerely interested in the good of his native subjects.82
Whatever the truth may be, the period of Ovando’s ascendancy in Philip’s
government saw an attempt to regularize the situation in the Indies, to
bring them more under governmental control, to codify the laws, to facili-
tate the flow of information in both directions, and to protect the rights of
the natives. This study shows that the crown took very seriously its obli-
gations to the natives.
The figure of Philip II, both as man and as king, continues to fascinate
historians. Complex, enigmatic, a devout Catholic who pursued antipapal
policies, warmhearted and cold, ascetic and sensuous, suspicious and
indecisive, ruthless and tenderhearted, a fan of jousting and a hater of war,
he intrigued his contemporaries as much as he does ours. For a few brief
years Ovando played a key role in Philip’s governmental system. He was
in the classic mold of the Spanish civil servant of the sixteenth century, a
prince of letrados. Yet he has remained almost unknown. Robert Padden,
called him “the dominating figure in formulation of all policies of colonial
government,” then added, “Very little is known about the personal life of
Ovando and his relationship with the crown. Even after he assumed direc-
tion of the Council [of the Indies], documentary evidence remains rare, so
that in his official capacity he is often shrouded in mystery.”83 This study
attempts to shed light on that mystery.
CHAPTER TWO
A Provincial First Family
T
he city of Cáceres is situated in the province of the same name,
which together with the province of Badajoz constitutes the region
known as Extremadura. Located in the extreme west of Spain, not
more than fifty miles as the crow flies from the border with Portugal, it
dates from Roman times and probably derives its name from Castra Cae-
saris (Caesar’s Camp) or Castra Caecilia (Cecilian Camp). It was taken by
the Moors during the course of their conquest of Spain (711–18), and they
called it Qazris. In the twelfth and thirteen centuries it passed between
Moslem and Christian control, until it finally came under Christian rule in
1227.
A modern historian describes Extremadura as “[a] province renowned
for the harshness of its climate and the poverty of its soil.”1 This picture of
an arid, inhospitable land has perhaps been enhanced by the fact that the
region was home to many of the conquistadors, including Fernando Cortés
and the Pizarro brothers. In fact, in many places it is attractive, with alter-
nating pleasant valleys and low-lying mountains. Much of it is treeless,
and though the land is fertile, frequent droughts and irregular rainfall
make it more suited to livestock than agriculture. The city of Cáceres is in
a hilly area, a little over fifteen hundred feet above sea level. The climate is
temperate; the average temperature is fifty degrees Fahrenheit in winter
and seventy-five degrees in summer. The old quarter of the city has been
remarkably well preserved, and walking through it, especially at night,
one is carried back to the sixteenth century.
A PROVINCIAL FIRST FAMILY 23
In that century Cáceres had a population of between 6,300 and 8,500,

not large even by the standards of the time.2 The city was strongly linked
to the crown of Castile and remained under royal jurisdiction rather than
that of a local señor or noble.3 Life was not appreciably different from that
of any other provincial city. It centered on agriculture and husbandry,
especially sheep but also swine, and as a result great prestige was attached
to the ownership of land. The monotony of daily life was relieved by bull-
fights and religious festivities, such as processions, pilgrimages to local
shrines, and the activities of religious confraternities or brotherhoods.
There were no theaters. Life was narrowly circumscribed for women, con-
fined for the most part to church, the home, and walking and shopping in
the main square. Hunting was important, not only as a sport for the nobil-
ity but also as a source of food. Professional hunters went from door to
door, selling rabbit, venison, wild boar, and quail. The region was an
important wine-producing area, as it is today, and consumption seems to
have been high. On the surface, it was a placid, rural, religious life, but it
was not easy.4 Hard times in the rural areas, difficulties with local lords,
the desire for a better, freer life in a new land—all these things tempted
peasant and hidalgo alike to uproot and emigrate. Extremadura provided
a disproportionately high percentage of migrants to the New World.
The Ovandos were among the first families of Cáceres, although their
status had been achieved somewhat later than that of the rest of the
provincial nobility. The family belonged to the lowest rung of the nobility,
the hidalgos, who in Cáceres constituted what Ida Altman has called “an
oligarchy of wealthy families who intermarried, dominated the city coun-
cil, and monopolized most of the grazing land of the region.”5
The founder of the family fortune for one branch of the Ovandos was
Diego de Ovando de Cáceres, who was commonly called the Captain.6 He
made his fortune in the late fifteenth century when there were numerous
civil wars among the nobles. On the death of King Enrique IV of Castile in
1474 there was no designated successor. A war ensued between two
claimants to the throne, both women. At the battle of Toro in 1476, one of
these, Isabel, emerged triumphant. The Captain had backed the right side
and was richly rewarded. Subsequent generations preserved and aug-
mented the fortune while at the same time assuming posts of power and
responsibility in the city. Two of the most famous were a grandson, Frey
24 JUAN DE OVANDO
Nicolás de Ovando, royal governor of the island of Española (1502–9)‚ and

a great-grandson, Juan de Ovando, best known for his work as president
of the Council of Finance and the Council of the Indies.7
Juan de Ovando was descended from an illegitimate line of the family.
The Captain owned property near the small village of Monleón, in the
jurisdiction of Salamanca, which on one occasion in the late fifteenth cen-
tury he visited together with his son, also named Diego de Ovando de
Cáceres (d. 1505).8 The son had an affair with a local girl, Elvira Sánchez,
daughter of Juan Moreno and Elvira Sánchez and at that time or later wife
of one Juan Durán. The affair resulted in a son, Francisco de Ovando.9
Francisco was taken to live with his father, though there is some evidence
that the mother either nursed or took care of him. The entire family, from
the grandfather down through cousins, acknowledged Francisco as one of
them, although there is no indication that he was formally legitimated.10
The paternity was generally known in Cáceres, if only because Francisco
bore a strong physical resemblance to his father.
Francisco’s father tried to provide for him, which was not easy under
Spanish law of that era, for inheritance by bastards was difficult when
there were legitimate siblings.11 The former were often encouraged to enter
the religious life. In addition, the entailed estates (mayorazgos), which were
increasing in number, favored inheritance by the eldest son. Ovando de
Cáceres the younger arranged an advantageous marriage between Fran-
cisco and Leonor de Aguirre, daughter of Juana Rodríguez and Martín de
Aguirre. Aguirre was rich, honored, and perhaps a hidalgo, and because
Francisco’s prospects were precarious, it was probably only his father’s
influence that caused the marriage to take place.12
Francisco and Leonor had five children. Among them Juan de Ovando.
The year of his birth is usually given as 1514; however, in a report to Philip
II of 25 March 1575, he clearly stated that he “is approaching sixty,” which
makes his date of birth 1515.13 There was an older son, Antonio, and a
daughter, Juana, who may have been the one whose dowry used up a large
part of the family income. A witness at the investigation into Juan de
Ovando’s limpieza de sangre, Sancho de Paredes, age eighty-six, declared
that there was another son, also named Juan, who was a student at Sala-
manca. This was probably a confusion with Juan himself.14 Apparently
Francisco had some land that he farmed. By 1546 he was dead, and his
family was considered poor, although that term was often used loosely in
that time and place. Leonor de Ovando sold some land, and according to
one testimony had 30,000 maravedís at her disposal for herself and all her
children, a rather high sum for a poor rural family.15
Beyond this, nothing certain is known about Juan de Ovando or his
immediate family before 1545.16 On 28 November 1545 he applied for a
scholarship to the colegio mayor of San Bartolomé at the University of
Salamanca.17 The investigation into his suitability took place in January
1546. He was found to be of Old Christian stock, that is, without any trace
of descent from Jews, Moors, or heretics. Apparently the illegitimacy of his
father did not work against him. Later in the century this would have been
an obstacle because of doubts about his biological lineage. One of the wit-
nesses stated that Ovando’s mother could give him no more than 12,000
maravedís out of a patrimony of 30,000—the figure that was the definition
of poverty in the statutes of San Bartolomé.18 Ovando also met another
qualification in that he already had a bachelor’s degree (bachiller), generally
a prerequisite for entering a colegio mayor.19 He may already have been a
student at Salamanca, but it is also possible that he obtained it from the
Colegio de San Pedro, the only school in Cáceres, which had been founded
by a local bishop, García de Galarza.20 Also, according to the investigation,
he met the other conditions of admission: he was not married, a religious,
or a cleric. On 8 July 1547 Ovando entered the colegio mayor of San Bar-
tolomé in the cold and windy city on the plains of Old Castile.21
Juan de Ovando was fortunate indeed. A scholarship in a colegio mayor,
especially one as prestigious as San Bartolomé, was almost a guarantee of
a future career. A degree in law from one of the universities of Spain, such
as Salamanca or Valladolid, enabled a young man with Ovando’s back-
ground not just to better himself; he could rise to the highest levels of
imperial government. The offshoot of an illegitimate line of a provincial
first family would one day be adviser to the king.
The colegios mayores were small, semiautonomous communities within
the university structure.22 They were modeled on the Colegio Mayor de
San Clemente de los Españoles, founded in 1365 by Cardinal Gil de Albor-
noz at the University of Bologna, which had a large Spanish student body.
San Clemente had a limited number of scholarships, an eight-year stay,
distinctive dress, and an austere lifestyle, in all of which it was imitated by
the colegios mayores of Spain. The distinction between a colegio mayor
and a colegio menor was based on the course of studies, the size of the
26 JUAN DE OVANDO
endowment, and the status of the founder. In addition, the rector and offi-
cers of a colegio mayor were elected by the scholars rather than appointed
by the trustees.23 Initially the purpose of the colegios was to help deserving
poor and orphaned students, a mission that San Bartolomé retained
throughout much of its history. It has been asserted that no organized
teaching took place in the colegios, though tutorial services similar to the
repetitores, or coaches, of medieval universities were offered.24 At both Sala-
manca and Valladolid, however, there were colegios that had endowed
chairs distinct from those of the university.25
San Bartolomé was the most prestigious of the four colegios mayores at
Salamanca. It was founded in 1401 by Diego de Anaya, archbishop of
Seville, though it did not open until 1418.26 Its purpose was to provide for
fifteen poor students (later increased to twenty-four) to study in the facul-
ties of theology and canon law, although it came to have a large number of
legistas, or specialists in civil law. Until the seventeenth century no one
with a patrimony or benefice above 1,500 maravedís could be admitted.27
San Bartolomé had an endowed chair of civil law, which Ovando was to
hold for a number of years. Bartolomicos who specialized in canon law
were forbidden to take courses in civil law, with the possible exception of
one year of study of the Instituta, the textbook of the Corpus Iuris Civilis.28
Admissions standards were exacting. The concept of limpieza de sangre
was important, more important, in fact, than at the other colegios. One
modern scholar has not hesitated to call it an “obsession” and to link it to
a mania for exclusivity.29 The original statutes had not dealt with the ques-
tion explicitly, stating only that colegiales (fellows) should be descended
from “a pure bloodline” (ex puro sanguine procedentes). It is not clear that
this meant limpieza de sangre in the later sense of the term.30 Later, per-
haps when he revised the statutes in 1435 and 1437, Anaya added a rigid
statute that no one of Jewish blood on either side, no matter how remote,
could be a colegial or chaplain. He then claimed that it had always been his
intention to reject conversos.31 There are no accurate figures on the attri-
tion rate among the colegiales, but one can speculate that it was high.
There is no doubt that the bartolomicos considered themselves an elite,
no matter how humble their backgrounds.32 The alumni maintained their
connections after graduation and formed a kind of “old boy” network
through which they advanced one another’s careers. The esprit de corps lasted
throughout their lives and contributed to the letrado self-consciousness
and self-definition.33 Ovando, for example, remained involved with Fer-

nando de Valdés, archbishop of Seville and Inquisitor General; Pedro de
Alderete, a canon of Seville and nephew of Diego de Alderete, of whom
more will be said in chapter 3; Pedro Farfán, oidor (judge) of the audiencia
(court) of Mexico and rector of the Royal and Pontifical University in that
city; and Francisco Tello de Sandoval and Hernando de Vega, both of
whom served as president of the Council of the Indies. The alumni of the
colegio mayor of San Bartolomé became so dominant in the imperial
bureaucracy in both the Old and New Worlds that there was a saying,
“The world is full of bartolomicos” (Lleno está el mundo de bartolomicos).
Ovando was twenty-one or twenty-two when he entered San Bartolomé.
This was not unusually late as the educational prerequisites were strin-
gent. The minimum age for admission was eighteen, later raised to twenty.
Although maximum length of stay was set by statute at eight years, in
practice there seems to have been more flexibility.34
The schedule and discipline at San Bartolomé were strict and monastic.
On entering, the becario (scholar) took an oath to obey the rules. There were
detailed regulations concerning clothing. The distinctive dress of the bar-
tolomicos was a cloak of undyed wool with a hood of the same color.35
During the winter, students rose at 6:00 a.m.; in the summer at 5:00 a.m.
Daily mass was mandatory, and those who failed to attend were punished
with the deprivation of a meal. Of these, there were two a day.36 Eggs and
fish were served on days of abstinence, and there were double portions on
feast days. Wine, plentifully diluted with water, was served at each meal.
There was reading during the meals, with each colegial taking his assigned
turn. Only Latin could be spoken at the colegio, and violations could result
in expulsion. A colegial could leave the premises only with the permission
of the rector, who assigned a companion, and marrying meant losing his
scholarship.37 It is testimony to the enduring nature of these practices that
some were still to be found in seminaries and religious houses in the mid-
twentieth century.
By 1551 Ovando had received the degree of licenciado in civil law, which
permitted him to teach.38 For some years he was a catedrático (professor) of
the Codex, the first part of the Corpus Iuris Civilis, at the colegio. It is not
clear whether he had yet become a churchman. None of the entries in the
records of the University of Salamanca or San Bartolomé refer to him as
cleric or priest.39 He was always called a legista, but that does not rule out
28 JUAN DE OVANDO
his having been a cleric. His future protégé, Pedro Moya de Contreras,
who later became archbishop of Mexico, was also a student of civil law at
this time.40
There is little that tells us much about Juan de Ovando’s character and
outlook during these years. There is room to conjecture that his illegiti-
macy of his ancestry and his meager prospects gave him the burning ambi-
tion that characterized his life. It was an ambition that was not just per-
sonal, but was directed toward what he saw as the service of God and
king—and the two forms of service were one in his mind. In all probabil-
ity it gave rise to that demonic passion for work that appears throughout
his life. A man who could write dispatches to the king on Easter Sunday
afternoon must have been driven indeed. His gifts for organization, plan-
ning, and efficiency were not yet manifest.
Ovando remained at San Bartolomé until 8 March 1556.41 Through the
influence of a fellow bartolomico, Fernando de Valdés, archbishop of
Seville and president of the Supreme Council of the Inquisition, Ovando
was appointed chief ecclesiastical judge (provisor) and vicar general of
Seville.
CHAPTER THREE
The Provisor of Seville
Q
uien no vió Sevilla no vió maravilla: “Whoever has not seen
Seville has not seen a marvel.” In 1556 Seville was on its way to
becoming the most populous and prosperous city in all of Spain.
Its location made it the gateway to the New World, and the presence of the
Casa de Contratación enhanced its unique position. Its merchants had a
monopoly on trade with the Indies, and it was truly, “a republic of mer-
chants.”1 The city attracted foreigners, including Flemings and Genoese,
who came to make their fortune and added a new element to the ethnic
mix of Spaniards, Jews, and Moriscos already present. The Genoese were
probably the dominant foreign presence, having been in Seville since the
thirteenth century. They enjoyed a number of privileges and specialized in
trade, banking, and financing expeditions to the New World. In addition,
the city was situated in an area rich in olive orchards, vineyards, wheat
fields, and orange groves.2
The population tripled between 1534 and 1561, when it reached 95,000.3
The district of Triana, directly across the Guadalquivir River from Seville
proper and connected to it by a pontoon bridge, was the most densely pop-
ulated urban area and the industrial center. Counterbalancing the wealth
and burgeoning population were the inevitable setbacks: famine and epi-
demic (in part the result of poor sanitation) in 1557, drought in 1561.4
Chronic inflation, the negative result of Seville’s commercial success,
devalued earning power and brought hardship to many.5
Seville was regarded as an open city, commercially, intellectually, and
religiously. Morals were lax enough that it was sometimes called the
30 JUAN DE OVANDO
Castilian Babylon.6 It was a place not only of great commercial achievement

but also of cultural and religious ferment, a rich breeding ground for every
kind of heterodox belief and teaching. Such a city had to have a center of
learning. In 1505 the archdeacon of the cathedral chapter, Rodrigo Fernán-
dez de Santaella, more commonly known as Maese Rodrigo, obtained a
bull from Pope Julius II that permitted the founding of the Colegio de Santa
María de Jesús, which was later raised to university status.7 The instruction
and curriculum remained narrowly ecclesiastical, so the university did not
share in the cultural and humanistic richness of the surrounding city. It
never approached the prestige of the Universities of Salamanca, Valladolid,
and Alcalá de Henares.
After Toledo, the archdiocese of Seville was the richest in all Spain. In
the early part of the century, the city had twenty-seven parish churches
and two exempt ecclesiastical jurisdictions.8 The latter were districts of the
archdiocese that were the equivalent of parishes but independent of the
authority of the archbishop. One of these was San Telmo, also called Marrue-
cos or Morocco. In 1512, when Archbishop Diego de Deza called a provincial
council, the suffragan dioceses were Cádiz, Málaga, Silves (Portugal), the
Canary Islands, and Morocco. Shortly after this the first dioceses in the
New World were created as suffragans. Hence the organization of the arch-
diocese of Seville was the model for that of the Indies. This was especially
true of New Spain (modern Mexico), whose dioceses continued to be suf-
fragan until 1547.
Despite the wealth of the archdiocese, the overall religious picture was
bleak. There was a general lack of instruction and religious knowledge,
which the people tended to blame on the recently converted but relatively
small Morisco population.9 In reality, it reflected the level of the clergy. In
1556 Archbishop Fernando de Valdés wrote to Prince Philip that concubi-
nage and gambling were rampant among the clergy, and many of them
openly raised families.10 The problems with the clergy were worsened by
the fact that throughout the sixteenth century most of the archbishops did
not live in their sees. Alonso Manrique (d. 1538) and García de Loaysa (ca.
1480–1546) were both absentees, but they made important, if occasional,
visits.11 Valdés, archbishop from 1547 to 1568 and Inquisitor General, began
promisingly by making a visit of a year and a half early in his episcopate
(1550–51) but after that did not see the city again. He attempted to be a
reforming bishop in the style of Trent but did so at a distance. His attempts
THE PROVISOR OF SEVILLE 31
to suppress Erasmian and Lutheran tendencies were viewed by his chapter

as maneuvers for power, as in some cases they clearly were, and this led to
all-out conflict.
A chapter may be defined as an association of clerics of a certain church,
a moral and legal body instituted by ecclesiastical authority for the pur-
pose of promoting divine worship by means of choir services, that is, the
singing in common of the canonical hours or divine office. Although chap-
ters were originally instituted for this liturgical purpose, by the sixteenth
century a cathedral chapter had as its primary function assisting the
bishop or archbishop in the administration of the see, with the choir func-
tions secondary.
The cathedral chapter of Seville consisted of some forty to forty-two
canons, twenty racioneros (who received two-thirds of a canon’s salary but
had neither the authority nor the rank of one), twenty medio racioneros
(whose salary was one-third that of a canon), and twenty veintineros, or
beneficed clerics. In addition to the five higher ranks (dignidades) usually
found in a chapter, such as dean (deán), archdeacon (arcediano), treasurer
(tesorero), choirmaster (chantre), and schoolmaster (maestrescuelas), there
were a number of special titles, such as Archdeacon of Jerez, Archdeacon
of Reina, Archdeacon of Niebla, Archdeacon of Carmona, Prior of las Ermi-
tas, and Bishop of Morocco.12 There were at least fifty employees, includ-
ing lamplighters, bell ringers, silversmiths, gatekeepers, heralds, organists,
and musicians and singers. The chapter, then, was a large, self-sufficient,
and independent corporate body, whose members had a strong sense of
their own importance and were sensitive about questions of jurisdiction
and protocol.
As in many dioceses, there was a special antagonism between the arch-
bishops and the chapters. The canons of the cathedral chapter of Seville
were generally of a high quality because Archbishop Alonso Manrique had
awarded many of the positions to professors and students from the Uni-
versity of Alcalá de Henares, the only university in Spain whose primary
purpose was the education of good clergy.13 The chapter also had a long-
standing humanistic tradition, tinged with Erasmianism. Because of this
many saw in Seville a hotbed of crypto-Protestantism from which not even
the clergy were exempt. The provisor, or chief ecclesiastical judge, was one
source of friction between the archbishop and his chapter. He was often a
simple cleric chosen by the archbishop from among his friends or clients,
32 JUAN DE OVANDO
who lacked the status and prestige of a canon but wielded immense
power in the absence of the archbishop. After some years of service, a pro-
visor usually became a member of the chapter, something that involved
him in a conflict of roles. One archbishop is supposed to have compared
his relationship to the chapter to that of Adam to Eve, quae data est ei in
adiutorium et versa est in ruinam, who was given to him as his help but
turned into his ruin.14
Seville was the first permanent location of the Spanish Inquisition
(1480), and the Inquisition of Seville was a particularly important branch of
that body. Several of its archbishops were Inquisitors General. The cosmo-
politan nature of the city, its openness to influences from outside the penin-
sula, the large foreign population, and the presence of conversos and
Moriscos, offered more than enough reasons for the Holy Office to be vigi-
lant. This vigilance extended to the cathedral chapter. As a result Seville
also had a history of anti-Inquisition feelings, especially among the con-
verso members of the cathedral chapter.15 Since 1483 the tribunal had its
headquarters in the castle of Triana, the river Guadalquivir, at the point
where the Triana bridge now touches the shore.
It was Ovando’s membership in the Inquisition that was to cause the
first of several conflicts during his stay in Seville.
PROVISOR AND INQUISITOR

Fernando de Valdés was born at Salas, in the Asturias, in 1483.16 In 1512 he
became a colegial of San Bartolomé at Salamanca and was later made dean
of the cathedral chapter of Oviedo and a member of the Suprema, the
Supreme Council of the Inquisition. In 1524 he was named bishop of
Huelva and in 1539 bishop of Oviedo. He was also president of the Coun-
cil of Castile. He was named archbishop of Seville and president of the
Suprema in 1547 at a rather advanced age. He published a revision of the
rules and procedures of the Holy Office and oversaw a revision of the
Index of Forbidden Books. Valdés was essentially an ecclesiastical careerist
who used his various positions for personal advancement. He tended to
favor family members and fellow bartolomicos in appointments to major
positions.17 As inquisitor, he was ruthless and exploited the crown’s gen-
uine fear of heretical intrusion as a means of enhancing his own power. A
case can be made that Valdés genuinely tried to carry out reforms, but that
case is weakened by almost twenty years of absenteeism.18 He died at

Madrid on 9 December 1568 and was buried in a sumptuous tomb in the
cathedral of Oviedo. In general, the verdict of posterity has not been kind.19
Valdés came to Seville in 1550 but left after a little over a year, never to
return. He ruled through Ovando, who was appointed provisor on 5
March 1556.20 His authority, at least on paper, was extensive and for all
practical purposes gave him the full powers of the archbishop, with the
exception of those things limited to a bishop, such as ordination to the
priesthood. The appointment made Ovando “provisor general in matters
spiritual and temporal” in order that he might judge and give sentence “in
all cases and lawsuits whatever, whether concerned with marriage or
benefices, civil and criminal of whatever quality or condition they may be,
both ecclesiastical and secular.”21 Ovando was given the power to suspend
clerics from the exercise of their functions and to impose excommunica-
tions and interdicts and to call on the secular arm to enforce them. The
appointment included the powers of inquisitor ordinary, that is, the inquisi-
torial power that belonged to the archbishop by reason of office. He could
call synods and provincial councils, give absolution in all cases reserved to
the archbishop, name pastors and chaplains for benefices and chaplaincies
of churches, and grant faculties to bishops from outside the archbishopric
to perform ordinations. Such sweeping grants could only lead to trouble.
One grant that was sure to prove controversial concerned the cathedral
chapter. Ovando was empowered to confer all benefices, including canon-
ries, even those in the cathedral chapter, that fell vacant. The wording,
however, was ambiguous: “even if the conferral of the benefices and
prebends that are to be provided jointly by us and the chapter of our holy
church to the said church on suitable and qualified persons according to
your judgment be simultaneous.”22 The statutes of the cathedral chapter
provided that those members who were in sacris, that is, who had been
ordained to the major orders of subdiaconate, diaconate, or priesthood,
chose new members of the chapter together with the archbishop. The dif-
ficulty lay in the implementation of this joint power. Was the appointment
made by the archbishop but with the approval of the chapter? Or was the
archbishop merely first elector among equals? Did the archbishop have
veto power over an election by the chapter?
Valdés came into conflict with the chapter during his one and only visit
to his archdiocese. On 23 January 1551 he called a meeting at which a
34 JUAN DE OVANDO
number of disputes arose, with the result that the chapter members walked
out on the archbishop one by one. Finally, Valdés himself left, instructing
the archdeacon to call another meeting for another time.23 There seems no
doubt that Valdés used Ovando as his agent to suppress any movement in
Seville that seemed in the least heterodox. The zeal for orthodoxy, however,
went hand in hand with an increase of personal power.
One ploy used by Valdés was to unite the office of provisor with that of
inquisitor. In 1550 he named Gaspar Cervantes de Gaete to both posts, a
move that aroused the hostility of the chapter. The chapter accused both
Cervantes and Valdés of abusing their powers by using the Inquisition
against crimes that fell under common law rather than inquisitorial juris-
diction. The crown sided with the chapter. Both Charles V and Prince Philip
wrote Valdés to instruct him to separate the two offices.24 Valdés, neverthe-
less, proceeded to appoint Ovando as both provisor and inquisitor. When
Philip, who became king on his father’s abdication in 1556, reproached him
for this, Valdés claimed that he had never received the original order. This
angered the king, who wrote a sharp letter on 27 July 1556, accusing the
archbishop of disobedience.25
This incident marked the beginning of Valdés’s fall from favor, a fall that
was accelerated by his own blundering and character flaws. Philip II, who
was in Flanders, desperately needed money for his wars, including one
with Pope Paul IV, and sent Ruy Gómez de Silva to Castile to obtain forced
loans from nobles and prelates. The higher orders in Spain, both ecclesias-
tical and lay, had grown increasingly independent and recalcitrant during
Philip’s protracted absence.26 Princess Juana, his regent in Castile, called on
Valdés for 150,000 ducados.27 The archbishop gave nothing, pleading a vari-
ety of implausible excuses. Valdés vigorously denied having any money,
though everyone knew he did. For a man whose whole career depended on
royal favor, Valdés was quite reckless in his dealings with the crown.
On 5 June 1558 Philip issued an order from Flanders banishing Valdés
to his see. However, the discovery of a cell of so-called Lutherans in Val-
ladolid and later in Seville gave Valdés the opportunity to extricate himself
by exploiting the crown’s fear of heresy. Valdés presented the king with an
alarming picture of heterodox opinion on the loose throughout Castile and
urged that the Inquisition be put in charge of these investigations.28 The
king countermanded the order of banishment. Valdés was somewhat more
restrained with regard to heresy in Seville, since a picture that was too
alarming might provide the crown with an excuse to return him there.
Ovando continued as inquisitor despite the royal letter, although in 1559 (or
perhaps earlier) Valdés appointed Juan González de Munébrega, bishop of
Tarazona, chief inquisitor of Seville. Ovando and González did not get
along, and the Suprema had to intervene to keep the peace.29 Ovando con-
tinued to work with the Inquisition and signed some of the sentences for
the auto de fe held in September 1559, which he also attended. He was still
working with it in 1563, on the eve of his departure from Seville.30 Valdés
continued as both president of the Suprema and archbishop of Seville.
There was one conflict between the archbishop and the chapter whose
repercussions would last into Ovando’s tenure. It was the case of Juan Gil,
more commonly known as Doctor Egidio (Gil and Egidio are the same
name in Spanish).31 He held the position of canónigo magistral, or official
preacher of the cathedral chapter, for more than twenty years. Although
he was bishop-elect of Tortosa, he fell afoul of the Inquisition in 1549. On
21 August 1552 Egidio was compelled to abjure a series of propositions on
the grounds that they were tinged with Lutheranism.32 He was sentenced
to a year in prison, which was quickly commuted to a stay in a Carthusian
monastery. In 1553 he was released and returned to the cathedral chapter,
where he was warmly welcomed and resumed his position as canon
preacher.33 He died in November 1555.
Although Egidio had been treated leniently by the Holy Office, his case
worsened relations between the archbishop and the chapter. Egidio does
not seem to have been guilty of any genuine doctrinal error. Rather, he
appears to have been a man of humanistic, Erasmian convictions, with a
strong tendency to a biblically centered theology. Time was running out
for such persons. The chapter seems to have viewed the whole process as
a means of lessening its prestige and centralizing more power in the hands
of the archbishop. Thus the canons were ready for the next challenge,
which was not slow in coming: the appointment of a successor to Doctor
Egidio. The choice was to fall on Doctor Constantino Ponce de la Fuente,
commonly known as Doctor Constantino.
THE CASE OF DOCTOR CONSTANTINO

The story of Doctor Constantino, as it is commonly told, has until recently
rested on two opposed accounts. The first is that of Reinaldo González de
36 JUAN DE OVANDO
Montes (or Montano), an exile in Heidelberg who wrote a two-volume

work, Sanctae Inquisitionis Hispanicae artes aliquot detectae (Some Devices of
the Holy Spanish Inquisition Revealed), which was published in 1567.34
González de Montes was hostile to the Inquisition, and if he was not openly
Protestant, he was strongly sympathetic to the Erasmian and illuminist
movements of Seville. His portrait of Constantino is hagiographic, that of
a hero who stood for gospel freedom against repressive dogmatism. Equally
influential has been the account given by Marcelino Menéndez y Pelayo in
his Historia de los heterodoxos españoles (History of the Heterodox Spaniards).35
A self-styled “sledgehammer” Catholic, he was unsympathetic to Constan-
tino, whom he viewed as a crypto-Protestant. His account is based on pri-
mary sources, although he was careless in transcribing them.36 The major
drawback of the Historia is that it treats the Constantino affair in a vacuum,
without reference to factors involving Valdés, Ovando, and the cathedral
chapter of Seville.
Contemporaries saw Constantino and Egidio as the leaders of cell of
Lutheran, that is, Protestant, thought in Seville. This view of Constantino
was challenged by Marcel Bataillon, who sought to place Constantino
within a more Catholic, humanistic reform movement of the sixteenth cen-
tury.37 Since then, in the words of María Paz Aspe Ansa, Constantino “has
ceased to be viewed simply as the great martyr for gospel truth or the
impious Lutheran heretic, and his figure has begun to be studied in the
light of the Erasmian-Illuminist movement presented by Bataillon.”38
William Burwell Jones sees him as an orthodox, evangelical Catholic.39
Constantino Ponce de la Fuente was born at San Clemente near Cuenca,
early in the sixteenth century.40 There is general agreement among those
who have written about him that he was of converso lineage, although
there is no documentary proof of this.41 The only thing that is known for
certain about his education is that on 30 August 1534 he received the
degree of licenciado in theology, not from Alcalá, but from the University
of Seville, where he was a colegial of the colegio mayor of Santa María de
Jesús.42 There is no indication as to when he received the doctorate. At least
once the minutes of the cathedral chapter of Seville refer to him as licenci-
ado (1556).43 On 22 May 1535 he was ordained to the priesthood in the
church of San Salvador in Seville by Sebastián de Obregón, bishop of
Morocco. In general, all available evidence connects Constantino’s life and
work with Seville.
Constantino quickly made a name for himself as a preacher. In 1539 he

gave the sermon at the memorial services held in Seville for the Empress
Isabel of Portugal, wife of Charles V.44 On 1 May 1548 he preached a ser-
mon before Prince Philip that brought him great notice and favor. Not long
after, he accompanied the prince as chaplain and preacher on a trip to
northern Europe and preached at Brussels during Lent in 1549.45 Con-
stantino returned to Seville in 1551. At some unknown time Prince Philip
appointed him to the post of maestrescuelas of Málaga and made him one
of his paid preachers.46 In 1554 Constantino accompanied Philip to Eng-
land on the occasion of the prince’s marriage to Mary Tudor. While in the
royal service, Constantino was offered the post of canónigo magistral of
Toledo but refused it.47 According to González de Montes, the reason he
gave was that “the bones of his parents and grandparents had been resting
in their tombs for many years and that he did not want to take on any duty
that would be the cause of disturbing that rest.”48 The reference was to his
converso background and to the fact that Archbishop Juan Martínez Silíceo
of Toledo had recently imposed a limpieza de sangre statute on the chapter.49
It may also have reflected the grotesque story that the archbishop had
exhumed the bones of the ancestors of some converso churchmen.
Constantino seemed embarked on a major career. He was a man of
learning and eloquence who was widely regarded as the best Spanish
preacher of his age. Six of his sermons based on the text of Psalm 1, known
by its initial Latin words as the Beatus vir, were published at Seville in
1546.50 He was the author of three other books, Suma de doctrina cristiana, an
Erasmian dialogue dedicated to Archbishop García de Loaysa of Seville,
which had enormous success throughout Spain, Confesión de un pecador
penitente (Confession of a Penitent Sinner), and Catechismo cristiano (Chris-
tian Catechism).51 Constantino had an attractive personality and a keen
sense of humor, which, like that of Erasmus, was often directed against
ignorant monks and preachers.52 When, on 5 February 1556, the chapter
published edicts throughout Seville that the canongía magistral, vacant
since the death of Egidio, was open for candidates, it was only natural to
suppose that Constantino would win it. A canónigo magistral needed
advanced education and superior preaching ability. In addition, as the
official preacher of the cathedral chapter, his doctrine had to be in accord
with that of the canons. In this regard, Constantino was acceptable to the
chapter but not to Valdés.
38 JUAN DE OVANDO
It was clear that the election required the participation of both the arch-
bishop and the canons in major orders. What was not clear was whether
the archbishop was just another elector, on a par with the canons, or whether
he had veto power over their choice. What applied to the archbishop applied
by delegation to his provisor. Valdés had his own candidate, Doctor Pedro
Sánchez Zumel, the canónigo magistral of Málaga. All of this led to a dra-
matic confrontation between the chapter and Ovando, acting as the arch-
bishop’s agent. On 20 April 1556 the chapter announced that the edicts had
been complied with and listed the candidates for the canonry. Constan-
tino’s name was on the list, but Zumel’s was not.53
On 22 April Ovando appeared before the chapter and announced that
since the election had to take place within three days, he intended to have
a role in it. For that purpose he asked to see the papal bulls that stipulated
the conditions and procedures for such elections. The canons in major
orders deputed five of their number to meet with Ovando, examine the
bulls with him, and discern his intentions regarding the upcoming elec-
tion.54 They decided that the chapter would be notified that Ovando
should be given the role that belonged to him by right but that the chapter
should lose none of its rights.55
On 24 April twenty-four of the canon electors, joined by Ovando, met
and appointed a committee to examine the academic credentials of the
candidates and to assign them topics and days on which to give demon-
stration sermons. Ovando’s name was at first included among the exam-
iners but was scratched out later.56 It was at this time that Zumel was first
listed as a candidate. On Sunday, 26 April, the deputies met and approved
the academic credentials, saying that they were good and “free of all sus-
picion.”57 The candidates other than Constantino gave their demonstration
sermons between 30 April and 7 May. On 8 May the canon electors
approved a proposal that those candidates with doctoral degrees from rec-
ognized universities should not be required to undergo an examination or
engage in a public scholastic disputation, a move that Ovando would soon
challenge.58 Three days later three physicians, citing a long list of symp-
toms, testified that it would be impossible for Constantino to appear before
the canons to preach or dispute in public.59
The real conflict began later that same day. The canons in major orders
met and declared that it was time to proceed to the election. When it was
Ovando’s turn to vote, he gave a long discourse, partly written, partly oral,
which he began by citing numerous papal bulls that regulated elections to

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

directed at Constantino was that of having been married before his ordina-
tion to the priesthood. Ovando’s interpretation of the foundational bulls
and his role in the election did not have a strong basis, for Rome later found
against him. Even more tenuous was his evidence that Constantino was or
had been married, based as it was on the testimony of two women, one in
San Clemente, the other in Málaga. If Ovando had had clear proof of the
accusation, there would have been no possibility of Rome’s ruling for Con-
stantino.64 Nor did Ovando directly impugn Constantino’s orthodoxy. This,
however, was implicit in his call for public lecture and disputation.
The chapter responded by commissioning four of its number to exam-
ine Ovando’s claim and make a report the following day, 12 May.65 Not
surprisingly, the report went against Ovando.66 It summarized his stand
and then refuted each point in turn. It emphasized that there was a natu-
ral presumption in favor of the candidates because the law presumed good
unless there was proof to the contrary. Ovando, the committee said, should
have put forth his objections earlier. As for the accusations of intrigue, they
were rejected as “very false.”67
The committee rejected the accusation that Constantino was married,
pointing to his good reputation as a priest, a reputation that went back
twenty years to the time of Archbishop Manrique. Constantino had been
universally accepted as priest, theologian, and preacher, without anything
contrary ever being known about him.68 Ovando was also reminded that
he had participated in the election as a coelector with the chapter, not as its
superior or judge. The canons announced their intention to appeal to
Rome against any steps that Ovando might take.69 Ovando rejected their
appeal on the grounds that he had done nothing prejudicial to their rights.70
He told them that if they proceeded with the appeal, they would incur the
excommunication with which he had threatened. The canon electors replied
that they would proceed and would meet “grievance with grievance, force
with force, appeal with appeal.”71 Ovando answered by agreeing to hear
their arguments while still rejecting their appeal.72 The canon electors
defied the provisor by declaring that they would proceed immediately to
the election. Thereupon Ovando declared the entire group excommuni-
cated.73 The canons declared the excommunication invalid and unanimously
elected Constantino canónigo magistral. They then conferred the position
over Ovando’s protests.74 On his own authority Ovando named Zumel
to the post, and the canons announced their intention to appeal his act
to Rome.75
A week later, on 20 May, Constantino sent a message to the canon elec-
tors expressing his desire to avoid all difficulties by preaching and lectur-
ing as he had been asked. Despite his illness, he said, he had been willing
to come “even if they brought me on a stretcher,” but the rapidity with
which events had moved had not given him the opportunity to be avail-
able. The canons acceded to his request while carefully noting that it did
not prejudice the election or introduce an innovation into the electoral
process.76 They then invited Ovando to join them in choosing the passage
on which Constantino was to expound, but he declined on the grounds
that he was busy. The passage eventually chosen was distinction 30, book
2, of the Sentences of Peter Lombard, which dealt with original sin, a topic
that offered a good opportunity to detect Lutheran sympathies.77 It is not
clear if the lecture actually took place.
After this there is no documentation that connects Ovando with Con-
stantino’s case, although as inquisitor he must have been involved in sub-
sequent events. Ovando’s signature is not found on any of the correspon-
dence with the Suprema. The campaign against Constantino was carried
on by another inquisitor, the licenciado Miguel de Carpio (uncle of the
playwright Lope de Vega Carpio), who was inquisitor of Seville from 1559
to 1578. He was also a protégé of Valdés and earned a fearsome reputation
as inquisitor.78
On 7 June 1557 the chapter was notified that Rome had decided in favor
of Constantino.79 He was not allowed to enjoy his triumph. Both the Suprema
in Valladolid and the local Inquisition of Seville had begun to move against
Constantino even before the disputed election of 1556.80 The Suprema kept
up a steady correspondence, ordering the confiscation of Constantino’s
books and citing evidence that he was a converso.81 On 28 February 1557
Carpio wrote to the Suprema Constantino’s books were being examined
and that suspect material had been found.82
It is not clear when Constantino was arrested and imprisoned in the
castle of Triana, though the assertion 16 August 1558 is quite probable.83
The case against him was not strong, and the local inquisitors kept up a
desperate search for evidence. The testimony regarding his marriage seems
to have been unreliable. And the inquisitors found no conclusive proof of
his doctrinal deviation or Lutheran sympathies. In the end they did not
42 JUAN DE OVANDO
need to do so, since Constantino died sometime between 15 January and

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

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

and Zamora,] the Lutheran sect was being preached so publicly in
Seville that I saw a letter there from a heretic exile in Germany written
44 JUAN DE OVANDO
to another of his disciples in Seville in which he said these words,

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

Ovando’s struggles with the chapter did not end with the Constantino
affair. Like provisores before him, he was caught up in the conflicts between
two competing authorities, the archbishop and the chapter. Though not
without melodramatic moments, the conflicts entailed the serious issue of
power over the archdiocese of Seville. Like the Constantino case, they
often involved the question of who had the right of appointment to vacant
canonries. That, however, came to the fore only when Ovando or Valdés had
their own candidates to propose. Twice in 1556 Ovando attempted to
appoint candidates to the chapter over the objections of the canons.97 Again
the issue was his authority as provisor: was he just another elector, or did
he have an absolute right of appointment? Ovando claimed his powers,
and the chapter rejected them, to the extent of saying that if one of his can-
didates entered the choir the services would be suspended.98 In at least one
case the canons admitted Ovando’s candidate, a retainer of Valdés’s, while
insisting that it did not curtail their rights.99 Eventually compromises were
reached, with each side trying to save face.
These disputes were complicated by the fact that at the same time
Ovando was dealing with criminal charges against some of the canons.
These provide a lurid picture of the turbulence of that era. On 13 June 1556
the chapter learned that Ovando had imprisoned a racionero named Diego
Jiménez in the archbishop’s palace, and it delegated two members to find
out the reason.100 The accusation, it turned out, was that Jiménez had tried
to kill his uncle, the dean of the chapter, by putting an arsenic compound
in his food.101 On 23 November Ovando informed the chapter that the city
authorities had accused a racionero named Andrés de Salcedo of certain
unmentioned crimes and that the royal justice was also pursuing him. As
a result, he told the canons, he had imprisoned Salcedo, who was already
under a two-year suspension by the chapter. In a rare display of coopera-
tion, both the chapter and the provisor approved Salcedo’s continued
imprisonment, if only to keep the civil authorities out of the case.102 In July
1563 Ovando asked the chapter to appoint deputies to help with a case
against a canon, Alfonso de Zamora, who was accused of being involved
in a murder. The canons asked Ovando to leave the room and then
accepted his proposal while making the usual protestations that this did
not diminish their rights in cases involving members of the chapter.103 The
case lasted into 1564, when Zamora resigned his post.104
Sometime in fall 1556 Ovando imprisoned three members of the chap-
ter for reasons that are now unknown.105 Valdés and Ovando viewed these
canons as responsible for the opposition by the chapter and as trying to
eliminate the archbishop from having a role in the provision of offices. At
a brief meeting on 1 November (a Sunday as well as a holyday of obliga-
tion), the canons ordered their lawyers to work on the case in their name.
They also directed the lawyers to contact the papal nuncio.106 They were
about to appeal to both the Royal Council and, more to be feared, Rome.
The papal nuncio, while asking to be kept informed, declined to inter-
vene.107 Valdés also approved Ovando’s plan to arrest two more canons but
only after they had been excommunicated. He drew the line, however, at
an audacious proposal by his provisor to imprison the entire chapter.
Valdés had no hesitation about rewarding relatives or retainers with
positions in the cathedral chapter, using Ovando as his agent. In 1560
Ovando intervened in Valdés’s name to appoint the archbishop’s secretary,
Fortuno de Ibargüen, a medio racionero.108 In 1563 Ovando appointed
Ibargüen, who was already archdeacon of Sigüenza, to a vacant canonry.
The canon electors unanimously accepted the appointment but only on con-
dition that a competitor be given five months to prove that he had received
the position from Rome. Ovando agreed, and eventually Ibargüen was
46 JUAN DE OVANDO
appointed.109 On 20 December Valdés gave Ovando the names of two can-

didates to be presented in the event of a vacancy in the chapter. One of
them was Valdés’s nephew in Salamanca.110
The full irony came with Ovando’s own appointment as a member of
the chapter in September 1559.111 Unfortunately, the minutes of the chapter
were not kept from May to December of that year. They might have pro-
vided valuable information on what opposition the appointment encoun-
tered and about Ovando’s academic degrees and the holy orders he had
received.112 The chapter did not have regularly scheduled meetings. It met
according to the demands of business, as often as every day or as infre-
quently as once a week. There was no hesitation about meeting on Sun-
days or holydays, but for some reason it never met on Thursdays. Ovando
seems to have been reasonably active in the chapter meetings, but aside
from his involvement in disputed elections, there was nothing special
about his participation. His duties as provisor and inquisitor took up much
of the time that should have been spent in the chapter. He tended to become
more involved in chapter business when he thought that its financial inter-
ests were being threatened. He usually voted in favor of money-saving
proposals.113
Juan de Ovando’s primary function in Seville was to administer the
archdiocese for an absentee archbishop. In itself this was a full-time job.
Most of the provisor’s business was routine, such as inspecting and visit-
ing parishes and hospitals, reviewing requests for dispensations or special
privileges (such as a private chaplain for a noble family), the construction
and endowment of chapels, and disciplinary problems among the clergy
(such as absence without the archbishop’s permission).
Although Valdés did not live in his see, he kept in close contact by let-
ter. He, Ibargüen, and Ovando maintained a constant correspondence on
all matters, from the most important to the most trivial. Unfortunately,
Ovando’s part of this correspondence has not yet been found. The busi-
ness of the archdiocese has to be reconstructed from the letters of Valdés
and Ibargüen, which offers only a partial picture of events.
A major part of their correspondence consisted of letters of recommen-
dations for individuals to ecclesiastical offices. In Valdés’s case most of
these were friends, retainers, relatives, or fellow bartolomicos. As president
of the Suprema, he was concerned that inquisitors should receive canon-
ries or other benefices that would give them financial support apart from
the Holy Office.114 Both the archbishop and the provisor were at the center
of an extended system of ecclesiastical patronage.
“PROTÉGÉS OF LICENCIADO ALDERETE”

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

the Old Testament to the Latin Vulgate translation, which, especially in the
aftermath of the Council of Trent, came to have an almost sacred position
among many Catholic theologians. He was, however, cleared of all suspi-
cion of heresy.120 In 1576 Philip II invited him to be professor of oriental
languages and curator of the library of the Escorial. Bataillon considered
Arias Montano “a mysterious figure” and wrote that he had “a rare charm,
which consisted principally of a very great knowledge added to an
extraordinary modesty and the disinterestedness of an ascetic.”121 Luis
Morales Oliver’s statement that he harmonized medieval scholasticism
with the Renaissance does not ring true, for he was primarily a biblical
scholar and theologian.122
It is not clear when and how Ovando and Arias Montano first came to
know each other. The extant correspondence dates from 1568 to 1573 when
Arias Montano was in Antwerp.123 It presupposes a close acquaintance of
long standing. This correspondence, which took place during the last and
most active period of Ovando’s life, was that of two renaissance men,
based on mutual respect and interests. The primary focus was the inter-
change of news and the purchase of books and scientific instruments for
the Council of the Indies. It also exhibits a humanistic side of Ovando’s
personality not often seen at other periods of his life.
Of the relationships that Ovando formed in Seville, that with Mateo
Vázquez de Leca (ca. 1543–97) was the most important.124 It was also the
longest, deepest, and, for a time, the most emotional. Vázquez de Leca rose
to be private secretary to Philip II (1573–91) and arguably the second most
powerful man in the Spanish empire, yet he reached that peak from ori-
gins so murky and questionable as to cause surprise in our own day as
well as his. The story of his background is complex and tedious, but in
view of his long and close relationship with Ovando, his position of power
under Philip II, and the whole question of limpieza de sangre, it needs to
be examined.
The standard account of his youth as he told it in middle age and as it
has been repeated by some modern authors was that he was the son of
Santo de Ambrosino (or Ambrogini) and Isabel de Luciano (usually given
in the Spanish spelling, Luchiano), natives of Coya on the island of Cor-
sica.125 Both parents were supposedly descended from the noble house of
Lecca, which had been dispossessed by the Genoese. In about 1542 Coya
was sacked by Moslem corsairs, and Isabel, who was in late pregnancy,
was taken to Algiers as a captive. There she gave birth to a son, a fact that
was made known in Coya through letters and reports of freed captives.
When the boy was about two or three years old, they were ransomed and
went to Seville. There, according to one author, Hazañas y la Rúa, Isabel
entered the service of the canon Diego Vázquez de Alderete.126 He added
that no one in Seville knew her husband and that out of gratitude she
adopted Vázquez’s name for her two children. When Vázquez de Alderete
died in 1556, he left a sum of money for Mateo’s education. According to
Hazañas y la Rúa, followed indirectly by A. W. Lovett, Isabel de Luchiano
is to be identified with the Isabel Pérez to whom the canon bequeathed a
sum of money for her daughter’s dowry.127 Until the age of twenty, Mateo
Vázquez was under the care of tutors, who looked after him as if he were
a true orphan.
This standard account is full of inconsistencies. It does not account for
the fact that Isabel de Luchiano had two children, Mateo and a girl, María
Vázquez de Luchiano, who was born in Seville, a city that Santo de
Ambrosino never visited. It does not explain why Isabel went to Seville
from Algiers instead of returning to Corsica. It contradicts testimony given
in 1556 that Mateo was an orphan without parents. It conflicts with evi-
dence that Mateo lived in the canon’s home from the age of three or five.
Among the many servants, including a black slave, who are mentioned in
the canon’s will, there is no mention of Isabel de Luchiano.128 The identi-
fication of Isabel de Luchiano with Isabel Pérez is clearly mistaken. The
former never went by any name but Luchiano, and the references in the
will to Isabel Pérez indicate no relationship with Mateo. There is no docu-
mentary evidence that connects Isabel de Luchiano with Canon Diego
Vázquez de Alderete.
Who, then, was Mateo Vázquez? The first documentary evidence of his
existence is in Vázquez de Alderete’s will, dated 5 September 1553. The
canon left Mateo, one of his servants, 30 ducados for his clothing and pro-
visions “especially because he is a minor.”129 In a codicil dated 13 April
1556, he altered the terms: “I leave to Mateo, my little page, one hundred
gold ducados which [illegible] 37,500 maravedís.”130 This was apparently
intended to take care of his expenses and education. On that same day tes-
timony was given that described Mateo, age eleven, as without parents
and having been raised by Vázquez de Alderete from the age of three.131
50 JUAN DE OVANDO
There is contemporary evidence that Mateo was educated in Seville by

the Jesuits.132
The next documentary evidence comes from an investigation into his
lineage made in Seville in 1561 during the time when Ovando was still
provisor. This is the first document that connects Mateo with Isabel de
Luchiano. Two witnesses, Damián Corsa and Catalina Corsa, who was
apparently Damián’s sister-in-law, both Corsicans, claimed to have been
captives with Isabel in Algiers. They testified that Isabel had a son whom
they had seen with her in Seville. Damián claimed to have been captured
in Corsica four months after Isabel and to have been imprisoned with her.
He testified that at that time the boy was two or three months old and that
he was two or three years old at the time of the ransom. He said that he
was ransomed after three years, came to Seville, and then settled in Cádiz.
Catalina Corsa testified that she was captured four years after Isabel and
saw her raising the boy, who was about four years old. Although the wit-
nesses gave different ages for the boy, the court of inquiry ruled that the fil-
iation was “beyond doubt.”133
Three years later Mateo petitioned for control of his estate. He declared
that he was a fatherless orphan (huérfano de padre), had been about thirteen
when Diego Vázquez de Alderete died, and was now twenty.134 On 6 Sep-
tember a royal cédula sought opinions on this. One response said that
Mateo had been in the canon’s service for eight years.135
After Mateo Vázquez reached prominence, there was widespread skep-
ticism about his background. As a result, in 1572 another investigation was
made into his ancestry and limpieza de sangre, in part to stop speculation
about his origins. The inquisitors of Seville, Carpio and Salazar, asked the
inquisitor of Sardinia to investigate the matter. The latter sent an agent and
notary to Corsica in October 1572. In November twelve witnesses recounted
to the mayor of Ajaccio and a notary the standard story of the Algerian
captivity and the birth of Mateo in Algiers. The inquisitors of Seville
declared themselves satisfied as to both his limpieza and his nobility. From
1582 on, Mateo began to sign himself Vázquez de Leca and at about the
same time commissioned a long and rather fanciful genealogy. He clung to
that as the official story for the rest of his life.136
It is impossible to reconstruct the background of Mateo Vázquez de
Leca. It is most probable that he was an orphan, perhaps illegitimate, who
was taken into Vázquez de Alderete’s household at an early age.137 He may
have been the son of Isabel de Luchiano, although the reference to that
comes rather late in his life. Before Mateo’s rise to respectability, Isabel
lived in a tawdry section of Triana and may even have been a prostitute.
Sometime in the 1580s a Corsican captive in Algiers, Pier Antonio Ambro-
sini, asked for ransom on the grounds that he was Mateo Vázquez’s brother.
Isabel stoutly denied this, saying that her husband, Santo de Ambrosini,
believing her dead in Algiers, had remarried and fathered a half brother to
Mateo. This is inconsistent with statements by witnesses about the regular
communications between Algiers and Corsica concerning Isabel’s cap-
tivity.138 In later life Mateo corresponded with Isabel and her daughter,
María, on a regular basis. He acted as patron for María’s son, also called
Mateo Vázquez de Leca, who became a prominent churchman in Seville.
It is possible that Mateo Vázquez was the illegitimate son of a local cleric,
although there is no evidence of legitimation prior to his ordination to the
priesthood.139
The most remarkable aspect of all this is that in a society that placed
such importance on unsullied lineage, a man of suspicious origins could
rise to such heights. How did Vázquez de Leca rise from such a question-
able background to be private secretary to the king? Clearly, he had pow-
erful patrons. After Diego Vázquez de Alderete, the chief among these was
Juan de Ovando and Diego de Espinosa. Although it is clear that Ovando
first met Mateo Vázquez in the household or service of Diego Vázquez de
Alderete, nothing is known for certain about the early years. Mateo began
to act as Ovando’s secretary in late 1562 or early 1563.140 The first evidence
of their relationship comes in a series of letters written by Ovando from
the University of Alcalá de Henares in 1565 when he was conducting the
reform of that university. Ovando had brought Vázquez with him from
Seville to act as secretary and general helper. Although the letters deal
mostly with routine business, they reveal an intensely personal and emo-
tional attachment on Ovando’s part. He talked about himself and his atti-
tudes in a way that he never did in any other correspondence. The saluta-
tions habitually refer to Vázquez as his “brother” and on one memorable
occasion as “Very Magnificent Sir, my brother and son.” The father-son
motif was strong. On one occasion he spoke of Vázquez as “a son whom I
want very much to persevere in virtue.”141
In September 1565 Mateo Vázquez began a campaign to enter the serv-
ice of Diego de Espinosa, president-coadjutor of the Suprema and newly
52 JUAN DE OVANDO
appointed president of the Council of Castile. Ovando joined in the cam-

paign. On 11 August 1564 he wrote to Pedro Deza, one of Espinosa’s most
influential colleagues, to request that he use his good offices to bring Mateo
into Espinosa’s service. He said that the young man’s merits and character
“made him the worthy servant of any prince.”142 He pointedly reminded
Deza of Vázquez de Alderete’s affection for the young Mateo, perhaps an
indication that Deza, too, had belonged to that circle. To Espinosa, Ovando
wrote that Vázquez was “the best loved thing that licenciado Alderete left
in this world,” that he was second to none in clerical ability, and that he
(Ovando) “regard[s] him as a son.”143 On Vázquez’s departure to enter the
cardinal’s service, Ovando presented him with one of his own academic
gowns and counseled him to remain firm in his good habits and conduct.144
When Vázquez showed some nervousness about being in the cardinal’s
service, Ovando assured him in fatherly tones, “[k]eep your mouth closed
and continue as is your habit and be very humble, making yourself avail-
able to everyone and God will do the rest.”145 The young man apparently
took this advice to heart, for one of the secrets of his success was his abil-
ity to “know his place.” Unlike Espinosa or Antonio Pérez, he never over-
reached himself.
In later years, after Vázquez de Leca had become one of Philip II’s
secretaries (8 March 1573), the correspondence continued, but the paternal
tone did not. Ovando addressed Vázquez as an equal, and in some ways
as a superior, and there was no longer the homely advice and exchange of
confidences that had taken place earlier. The two men were remarkably
alike in their sense of duty, dedication to efficiency and good administra-
tion, and unquestioned devotion to Philip II. As the king’s secretary,
Vázquez de Leca reached a pinnacle of power just below that of the king
himself. One of Philip’s biographers commented that, “[H]e grew in favor
and power because of the king’s absences. All consultas came into his
hands and he dispatched them to their tribunals, so that he seemed to be
an archsecretary.”146
He also made many enemies, especially Antonio Pérez and the Princess
of Eboli, who called him “this Moorish dog” because of his swarthy com-
plexion and dubious origins.147 This hostility is also reflected in the works
of modern historians. Lynch called him an “assiduous and time-serving
cleric” who remained in power “largely by his utter loyalty and his readi-
ness to inform on his colleagues.” Gregorio Marañón was particularly
hostile, calling him “this curious character” and “the mysterious Mateo.”
He also described Mateo as a hypocrite, “not very intelligent but patient,
studious, meticulous and organized” and suffering from the Spanish vice
of “squealing.” He said that “the poison of Machiavelli had entered into
his bureaucratic and servile soul.”148
THE LURE OF ALCALÁ DE HENARES

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

inevitable but expressed his doubt that the reform of the university of
Alcalá was the best way to go. He pointed out that the offices of reformer
and provisor were incompatible and that Ovando would have to resign the
latter (as he eventually did).153
Fortuno de Ibargüen joined in the campaign by emphasizing the bleak
experiences of visitadores (investigators) and reformers. His letter also
expressed the realities of royal service:
In my own experience I have seen that people to whom things of this

sort are entrusted are usually left with little to do. Since they are
going to be idle, they try to make something out of it in the hope of
doing something for the king so that he will reward them some day.
No visita [investigation of governmental operation or abuse], no
matter how brief it may be, fails to last at least a year. . . . Sometimes
years pass without its ending and during all that time those who
make the visitation support themselves at their own expense.154
Ibargüen was correct. The visitation of the university took almost three
years and saddled Ovando with debts that lasted to the end of his life.
There was obvious self-interest on the part of both the archbishop and
his secretary. Still, there seems no doubt that the pessimists had a good
case and some of the gloomier prophecies proved correct. Ovando, of
course, may well have seen his position in Seville as leading nowhere.
Despite all of Valdés’s protestations, he was still only provisor. Ovando
was obviously growing tired of promises. He had incurred some debts in
doing favors for Ibargüen, and the latter offered manifold excuses for
delaying repayment. In one of his last letters to Ovando, the archbishop’s
secretary thanked him for all the work that he had done but said it would
be impossible to recompense him with the benefice of Utrera, since Valdés
had promised it to one of his clients.155
Ovando undoubtedly saw, as the others did not, that the proposed
reform of the university would provide him with the opportunity to make
himself known beyond Seville and find a niche in the royal service. In this
he was correct. Beyond this, however, there was also the fact that he had
found a new patron, Diego de Espinosa. Rising from humble beginnings,
Espinosa was for some seven years the second most powerful man in
Spain. He was also a patron of both Juan de Ovando and Mateo Vázquez
de Leca.
On 4 August 1564 Ovando resigned as provisor of the archdiocese of
Seville but not as a canon of the cathedral chapter.156 Soon after he set out
for Madrid, and the twentieth of the month found him on the outskirts of
the city, where he received Ibargüen’s apologies for not having gotten him
better lodgings.157 Ovando’s whereabouts and activities for the next nine
months are difficult to reconstruct. In December 1564 he was in Alcalá de
Henares, and letters to him there identified him as the “reformer of the
University of Alcalá.”158 At some time in March or April 1565 he planned
a return visit to Seville but changed his mind.159 For almost a full year fol-
lowing his resignation Ovando and Ibargüen kept up a regular correspon-
dence about the affairs of the archdiocese of Seville, and it was not until
July 1565 that his involvement with the archdiocese finally ended.160
Ovando now undertook a major and important task, one that would
advance his career and begin his ascent to the higher levels of government.
CHAPTER FOUR
The Reform of the

University of Alcalá de Henares
T
he foremost Spanish churchman of his age was born Gonzalo
Jiménez de Cisneros at Torrelaguna, in the diocese of Avila, in 1463.1
His parents were of noble but poor lineage. He undertook his early
studies at Alcalá and then went to Salamanca to study law and theology.
He also spent some years in Rome, apparently as a student. On the death
of his father, he returned to Spain, armed with papal bulls that gave him
the post of archpriest of Uceda. This caused a dispute with the archbishop
of Toledo, who briefly imprisoned him.2 Cisneros eventually went free
with his right to the benefice vindicated. After a brief tenure in that post, he
became provisor of the diocese of Sigüenza.
In search of a less worldly life, he entered the Observant Franciscan
order at Toledo in 1484 and took the name Francisco. For a short time after
finishing his novitiate he led a secluded and ascetic life in a Franciscan
house outside Toledo. In 1492 he came to the attention of Queen Isabel,
who named him her confessor. In 1495 the queen had him named arch-
bishop of Toledo, a position he accepted only at the explicit order of the
pope. The new archbishop held synods for the purpose of reform and was
responsible for preserving the Mozarabic liturgy, which dated back to
Visigothic times. At the death of Isabel in 1506, Castile entered a prolonged
period of dynastic instability that culminated in the comunero revolt in
1520–21. In 1506–7, after the death of Philip I and because of the incapacity
of the lawful queen, Juana la loca, Cisneros became regent of Castile.3 In
the name of the Castilian nobles he invited Fernando of Aragon, then in
THE REFORM OF THE UNIVERSITY OF ALCALÁ DE HENARES 57
Italy, to assume the regency. When Fernando returned to Castile, he brought

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

The idea of renewing the clergy through the reform of their education may
have been in Cisneros’s mind for many years. There are indications of his
interest in revitalizing Spanish theological teaching and founding a school
in Toledo. He began to think on a larger scale and turned his attention to
Alcalá de Henares, which was in his archdiocese and where the archbish-
ops of Toledo had a palace. It was there, late in the fifteenth century, that
Cisneros decided to found a colegio mayor to be called San Ildefonso.9 In
1499 he obtained a bull of approval from Pope Alexander VI. Cisneros
commissioned the architect Pedro Gumiel to draw up plans for the new
school, and the cornerstone was laid on 14 March 1498.10 Gumiel also built
a new church to replace the older collegiate church of Santos Justo y Pastor.
This became the university church, and Cisneros endowed it with twenty-
nine additional prebends, to be awarded to masters of theology and arts
from the university. It was the only church in the Catholic world, outside
of one in Louvain, to have the title Iglesia magistral, literally, “teaching
church.”11 Today it is the site of the cardinal’s tomb. San Ildefonso opened
its doors on 24 June 1508.12 The first constitutions, however, were not prom-
ulgated until 22 January 1510.
The building of a college and university literally from the ground up
allowed Cisneros to give it a distinctive character. There is no doubt that
his primary objective was to provide a means for educating the Spanish
clergy. The university was to become something of a bastion of Christian
humanism. The influence of the Renaissance was notable, as was the the-
ological pluralism of its program of studies, which included chairs of Sco-
tism and Nominalism.13 The University of Salamanca had been alarmed by
the cardinal’s project and tried to persuade him to found his colegio there.
He refused, because San Ildefonso and the university were not to overlap
with the functions of the other Spanish universities but supplement them.
Theology was the supreme discipline at Alcalá. To assure this, Cisneros
excluded civil law from the curriculum, although he eventually permitted
the introduction of chairs in canon law.14
The organizational structure of the new institution was unique among
the Spanish universities of the time in that the colegio mayor of San Ilde-
fonso (sometimes simply called the Mayor) was the governing body of the
university. Some functions, including many financial ones, resided in both
institutions, while others belonged exclusively to the one or the other.15 The
most important point of convergence was that the rector of San Ildefonso
was also the rector of the university. He and his council were elected by
and from its colegiales.16 The election took place each October 17, the eve
of the feast of Saint Luke. Each elected member served a one-year term that
could be repeated only after an interval of two years.17 The rector had far
more power than his counterparts in other Spanish universities. His
authority included judicial powers—the university and its personnel were
independent of local criminal justice—and he could impose excommuni-
cations for certain offenses.
A great deal of pomp surrounded the office of rector, and it was said
that “under God he has no superior on earth.”18 This was not entirely true,
for there were two checks on his authority. The first was the chancellor,
who had the power to award degrees.19 The other was the annual visita,
which was intended to ensure that the constitutions were observed and
that the financial affairs of the university were in good order.20 In contrast
to the older universities, such as Salamanca and Valladolid, the newer ones
had clear, carefully spelled out procedures for the visitas. At Alcalá the con-
stitutions of 1510 established norms for the visita (constitution 63); later
these were given fuller development in the Forma visitationis established
after Cisernos’s death.21 The rector’s authority was also closely circum-
scribed by the constitutions. He was assisted by two separate groups of
three councillors each, one group for San Ildefonso and one group for the
university. Important business was transacted in meetings called claustros.
The claustros of San Ildefonso that included all the colegiales were called
the capilla.22 A claustro pleno was a plenary meeting of all the officers and
faculties of the university. So close was the union between the colegio
mayor and the university that they were referred to by the common name
Colegio Mayor de San Ildefonso y Universidad.
According to Cisneros’s original constitutions of 1510, there were four
patrons of the university: the king, the archbishop of Toledo, the cardinal
whose titular church was Santa Balbina in Rome, and the duke of Infan-
tado.23 The advantage was that the fledgling institution had the two most
powerful patrons in the civil and ecclesiastical spheres. The disadvantage,
aside from the divided leadership, was that it could be made to serve ends
that were other than educational. The most egregious example of this
occurred in 1520–21, when Charles V expropriated the university’s money
60 JUAN DE OVANDO
to help pay for his coronation as Holy Roman Emperor.24 This may help to
explain why the rector of the university was accused of favoring the
comunero revolt against royal authority in 1520–21.25
At San Ildefonso, many of the scholarships were under the control of
patrons, usually prominent families or civil and ecclesiastical corpora-
tions.26 Some of the students lived in religious houses, while others were in
pupilajes, or licensed student residences that were essentially small board-
inghouses subject to university rules and inspection. As in most other cole-
gios mayores in Spain, life at San Ildefonso was quasi-monastic and the
discipline strict.27 Many of its practices would have been familiar to Ovando
from his days at San Bartolomé. No resident could spend the night outside
the colegio; the doors were locked at sunset. There was reading at table,
and only Latin could be spoken, even in ordinary conversation.28
There were six categories of persons at the colegio. The colegiales, orig-
inally thirty-three but reduced to twenty-four by Ovando, ranked first, and
had to meet exacting admissions standards. The minimum age of admis-
sion was twenty, and a scholarship lasted eight years. The porcionistas, of
whom there were usually twenty, mostly from noble families, paid tuition
and board. They ate in the refectory with the colegiales but sat in a lower
place. They were subject to a less severe regimen.29 The cameristas were
generally poor and received from the colegio only lodging and two gold
florins annually during a two-year term.30 There were thirteen cameristas,
and they were often unruly. Compañeros, whose number depended on the
availability of beds, received only lodging and were roommates of the
cameristas. They sometimes worked as servants for the porcionistas. In
addition, the colegio population included chaplains (capellanes) and ser-
vants (familiares).31
In addition to the colegio mayor of San Ildefonso, Cisneros established
a number of colegios menores, including those for poor students (colegios
de pobres) and for religious orders. When the university opened there were
seven colegios menores, one of which, San Lucas, was actually a hospital
for students.32 At the time Ovando began his reform, there were eight in
addition to the hospital. Each of the colegios housed students in a particu-
lar discipline. These were Madre de Dios (theology), San Pedro y San Pablo
(Franciscans), Santa Catalina (philosophy), San Isidro (grammar), Santa
Balbina (summae), San Ambrosio (logic), San Dionisio (metaphysics), San
Eugenio (grammar), and San Jerónimo or Colegio Trilingüe (Latin, Hebrew,
and Greek). Over time, some thirty-two colegios menores, representing

provinces, religious orders, and military orders, were added. These were
administratively independent of San Ildefonso, linked to it only through
their relationship to the university.33
The five original faculties were arts and philosophy, theology, canon
law, and letters.34 Cisneros wanted a curriculum in which theology was
paramount, but classical and modern philosophies were also included.
The faculty of arts was viewed as a necessary preparation for theology.
Since medicine was one of the arts and the cardinal considered it essential
for the common good, a small faculty of medicine, consisting of two chairs,
was included in the original constitutions. The first chair was set up in
1514. Teaching positions at the major Spanish universities were highly
prized and well paid. A professor could be a catedrático, a holder of a
tenured chair, or a regente, a holder of a regencia or catedrilla, chairs with set
time limits.35
Although the university offered courses representing various schools
and their philosophical substrata, including eventually Thomism, Nomi-
nalism, Durandism, and Scotism, they had a strong biblical orientation.
Among the courses was patristics, the study of the church fathers. The bib-
lical and patristic emphasis, in turn, required study of the original lan-
guages. The constitutions decreed the establishment of a chair of Greek
and foresaw the establishment of chairs of Hebrew, Arabic, and Syriac. The
teaching of Hebrew was inaugurated in 1512, but apparently the chair of
Arabic never materialized. Of the colegios menores, one of the most pres-
tigious was the Colegio Trilingüe, founded in 1548, which had thirty
colegiales.
The university was characterized by intellectual rigor. Students began
studying by candlelight at five o’clock in the morning, and the first classes
began at seven and ended at three.36 The students retired at nine o’clock
after doing further study. Instruction was primarily by lecture. As in most
Spanish universities, the professor read from a prepared text or notes. At
specified times some of the professors would be “at the post” (al poste); that
is, they would retire to one of the patios and lean against a column where
they would answer students’ questions and objections.37
According to Cisneros’s original constitutions, there were four actas, or
public debates and disputations: quaestiones quodlibetales, parva ordinaria,
magna ordinaria, and alfonsina. The latter two were called solemn actas
62 JUAN DE OVANDO
because those who had doctoral, master’s, and licenciado degrees partici-
pated, not just those with bachelor’s degrees.38 After Ovando’s reform, the-
ologians were required to undergo three successive examinations: tenta-
tiva, tercer principio, and magna ordinaria. For medical students, the magna
ordinaria was replaced by the alfonsina (a corruption of ildefonsina), which
took place every two years or even less frequently and was a prerequisite
for the degree of licenciado. Of all the examinations, it was the most feared.
It was a public scholastic disputation that had to be done entirely from
memory. On the feast of San Ildefonso (23 January), the bachelors would
choose a prior to preside over the alfonsinas for that year. These took place
each Friday during the seven weeks between Easter and Pentecost and
usually lasted an entire day for each person who was being examined.39
Graduation was accompanied by the publication of the rótulo, which con-
sisted of three parts: a preamble with information about the examiners,
professors, and students; a notification from the examiners to the profes-
sors that the students had been examined and awarded degrees; and a list
of the new graduates ranked in numbered order. Whether to retain the
rótulo became a major question during Ovando’s reform, and it was abol-
ished by the claustro pleno.
There is no agreement as to the degree to which Cisneros’s university
was truly a “humanistic” or Renaissance-style school. Bataillon believed
it was a humanistic university that was deeply impregnated with Chris-
tianity.40 Ramón González Navarro is of a similar opinion, holding that it
had a strong humanist orientation associated with the New Learning of
the Renaissance.41 The question of the humanistic nature of the University
of Alcalá is closely tied to another, the extent to which Cisneros’s original
vision of the school was altered or corrupted in subsequent generations.42
This, in turn, is related to the various visitations and reforms of the uni-
versity that were made in its early history. Cisneros had ruled that there
should be annual visitas to determine whether the constitutions were
being obeyed and the financial affairs of the university properly adminis-
tered. In addition to these, there were periodic reforms, usually made by
crown appointees, whose purpose was to ascertain what changes were
needed in the to keep it functioning properly. In the history of Alcalá, then,
there is a major distinction between visitas and reforms. The former were
annual checks to make sure that the university was functioning according
to its constitutions; the latter were sporadic investigations into the very
structure of the institution.
There were four known reforms of the university before that under-
taken by Ovando.43 The first to deal with substantive issues was that of Juan
de Quíñones, maestrescuelas of Salamanca, who was sent by Charles V in
1544 to make sure that the original constitutions were being observed.44
Eleven years later, in response to rumors of the nonobservance of the con-
stitutions and previous reforms, the king appointed Gaspar de Zúñiga,
bishop of Segovia, as reformer. Zúñiga instituted substantial reforms, but
there are indications that they did not take effect. It is significant that
Ovando’s reform of the university followed so closely on that of Zúñiga.
This has led to speculation that Zúñiga’s reforms were not implemented.45
In view of the confusion that Ovando found in the documentation of the
university and its history, this is quite plausible.
OVANDO’S REFORM
How and why Juan de Ovando was chosen to undertake the reform is not
clear. It is possible that Espinosa arranged it as a way to advance Ovando’s
career and his own position.46 What is clear is that on 4 August 1564 Ovando
resigned as provisor of Seville, though not as canon, and in September 1564
he undertook his new work with diligence, enthusiasm, and exhausting
thoroughness.47 On 17 September 1564, a royal notary informed Ovando
in Alcalá de Henares of the royal provision for the reform of the univer-
sity.48 Ovando was given broad powers to deal with a variety of questions,
which may have reflected the concerns that had come before the Council
of Castile. He was to investigate how the rector and colegiales were elected
and how the chairs were provided and to determine if there was any fac-
tionalism or dishonesty involved, especially with regard to the university’s
finances. He was given the right to subpoena witnesses.49 When the inves-
tigation was completed, he was to bring the results before the Council of
Castile. Ovando’s assistants in the reform were Mateo Vázquez, his secre-
tary, and Pedro Carrillo, his notary.
On 19 September Ovando summoned a claustro pleno, which included
the rector, Martín Ramos, and the abbot and chancellor, Hernando de
Balbás, and informed them of his commission. The entire assembly went
64 JUAN DE OVANDO
through the quaint ritual of accepting the royal order: they received it,
kissed it, placed it over their heads in sign of submission, “and obeyed it
with the respect due a letter of their king and natural lord, whom God our
lord keep and let live for many years with the growth of greater kingdoms
and dominions.”50 Ovando had three copies of a proclamation of his
reform drawn up and published in various parts of the university on the
following day.
Ovando wasted no time beginning his work. His first task was to learn
as much as possible about the university’s administration, finances, phys-
ical plants, enrollment, and all other aspects of its functioning. He quickly
discovered that obtaining the necessary documentation was not an easy
task. On 26 September he went to San Ildefonso to obtain from the rector
and his councillors a long list of documents necessary for drawing up the
questionnaires of the reform.51 Ramos took Ovando to the university archive,
whose door was protected by three iron locks. Inside was a large wooden
chest, with some twenty slots with titles. These, Ramos declared, contained
all the papers dealing with every imaginable aspect of university business.
Ovando demanded to see the book that was mandated by paragraph 24 of
Cisneros’s constitutions, that is, a general ledger of all the privileges, exemp-
tions, and income of the university.52 Ramos replied that the book was
incomplete and that many of the documents were not notarized. In the
chest they found two leather-bound books containing many papal bulls
and privileges for benefices and other documents. These, however, were
unauthenticated copies. Ovando then asked to see the inventory of docu-
ments that was mandated by the constitutions. Ramos gave him two man-
uals, one of which had been copied only two years before. The other was
a small book that appeared to contain certain documents. Neither manual
was notarized or indexed. Ovando then made a detailed examination of
the contents of the chest, a task that took him two days.
What he found was that many entries were missing and that the various
inventories were poorly organized. The financial books were particularly
confusing. Some were still in the process of being organized, and Ramos
and his councillors claimed that it had never been their duty to do so.
Ovando replied by giving them thirty days in which to draw up a detailed,
complete, and fully authenticated inventory of all the university’s papers.
He also ordered the compilation of a report that would make clear at first
reading what goods and properties belonged to the colegio. Another, shorter
book was to list all real property, and a report was to be made to the coun-
cillors once a month. Ovando gave detailed instructions on how these
were to be prepared and bound, so that they would not be lost.
Ovando encountered similar difficulties when he was given a book that
contained the names of all the students in the university for the academic
year 1564–65. What he received was a small, unpaginated book with numer-
ous erasures. Ovando gave the claustro’s secretary two days to bring him a
list of members and officials of the claustro and of all persons at the univer-
sity, with a declaration of who they were, where they were from, what posi-
tions they held, and where they lived, from the year 1551. This was done on
1 October 1564.53
On the same day Ovando began an intensive visit to each of the churches
and colegios of the university. He spent three days at the church of San
Ildefonso, checking the vestments and furnishings.54 He meticulously
checked all vestments against the inventory and noted exactly how many
were missing. He inspected the dining room and found that very few
items had been entered in the inventory. Consequently, he ordered that the
accounts be kept in better order. He also visited the stables, the jail, the
wheat storehouse, the barley storehouse, and the student quarters. When
he had the money chest in the student section opened, a chest that had
eight locks on the outside and three chests on the inside, it was found to
contain nothing. So Ovando asked for the account book, only to be told by
Ramos and the councillors that such a book had never been seen or heard
of. Ovando then asked to see the general inventory of the residence halls
and was told that the inventory in his possession was the only one. When
he asked to see the ledger of the accounts that were closed at the end of
each year, he was again told that no such book existed. He gave the cus-
tomary order that all these things be brought up to date.55
On 6 October, a Sunday, he went to the colegio of Nuestra Señora la
Madre de Dios, where again he found a shortage of the required books. The
vice-rector told him that the college was very poor and had too few worldly
goods to be concerned about.56 On the same day he visited San Pedro y San
Pablo, the Franciscan colegio. The friars had inventories of the goods of the
colegio but no copies of the mandates of past visitors and reformers.
Ovando ordered that henceforth there should be an annual audit and then
went to the colegio of Santa Catalina, which specialized in philosophy. Here
the books were apparently in order, and Ovando contented himself with
66 JUAN DE OVANDO
ordering a cataloging system for the library.57 On the following day he

went to the colegio of San Isidro, where he also found the books in order.
His next stop was the colegio of Santa Balbina, where the colegiales of San
Ambrosio also lived after the collapse of part of their residence. Here,
again, the books were in order.58 Ovando then visited the colegio of San
Dionisio, where he found the books in order but the buildings “in very bad
condition[,] . . . old and desolate,” and in need of repair.59 He finished the
day’s work by visiting the colegio of San Eugenio, where he found the
books in order.60
Ovando interrupted his visits to the various colegios when he learned
that elections to certain tenured chairs would begin on 11 October. That
afternoon he sat with the rector and councillors during the first part of the
public examination of the candidates and then with the examiners of the
students who had come to vote. When these examinations ended, he deliv-
ered a homily to the entire assembly in which he gave his opinion of the
procedure (unfortunately not specified in the documentation) and made
some recommendations. During the next two days, he attended the actual
voting. On 14 October he attended the public examination of a candidate
for the degree of licenciado in arts until 11:30 a.m. Then he and the exam-
iners retired to the rector’s room and discussed the candidate and five or
six others. Ovando noted with disapproval that of the five examiners, two
or three left without voting so as to attend other examinations.61
On 16 October Ovando attended a first-stage examination (auto de ten-
tativa) in the hall of theology and was displeased to notice that many of the
faculty did not stay for the entire process. The voting took place afterward
in the rector’s room, though neither Ramos nor the master of ceremonies
(bedel) was present.62
On 17 October a new rector was elected, Doctor Andrés Uzquiano de
Uzquiano, a priest of the diocese of Calahorra and catedrático of Saint
Thomas in the university.63 Five days later Ovando informed him and his
councillors of his orders concerning the books of San Ildefonso and their
obligation to obey them.64 On 28 October he continued his visitations of the
various colegios, beginning with the Colegio Trilingüe. His investigations
continued for the next year.
The period from January to October 1565 was one of intense work on
Ovando’s part. He not only continued his investigation of the financial,
administrative, and academic condition of the university but also rewrote
the constitutions and statutes. On 26 February 1565 he informed the rector,

councillors, and colegiales that the account books for the finances and real
property of the university had not been well kept. He directed them to meet
and depute persons to lay legal claim to all buildings, orchards, lands, mills,
and other possessions of the colegio, especially any that were connected
with benefices, and ascertain their value.65 On 14 March 1565 Ovando
reported to the rector and his councillors about the financial situation of
the university. His conclusion was that the university’s money was passing
through too many hands. He gave orders that the constitutions were to be
followed in financial matters and that no unauthorized person inside or
outside the colegio should intrude into them. He then defined a procedure
to be followed in the care of finances and records.66 On 17 March he issued
orders that the treasurer and various majordomos were to give a full
accounting of their accounts each year on the feast of Saint Luke (18 Octo-
ber), just after the election of a new rector.67 On 21 March he reissued the
order but provided penalties of deprivation of office and expulsion from
the colegio for those who violated the constitutions in financial matters
and added further instructions on the proper handling of money.68 In April
and June he issued detailed instructions to the majordomos about keeping
their accounts.69 Not all the university’s financial problems were the result
of careless bookkeeping. Ovando charged at least two officials, one of them
a canon of the university church and visitador of the colegio, with short-
ages in their accounts. Both men were fined.70 He blamed this situation on
the lack of vigilance by the rector and councillors.
In September and October 1565 Ovando made second visitations to the
colegios that he had already visited a year before. In most of these cases he
seems to have been interested in getting an updated list of the students.71
Beginning in October, he, or his helpers, interviewed individual faculty
members. One purpose of these interviews was to learn how much the
average faculty member knew about the history and functioning of the
university. In general, the questions followed closely those in the royal
commission to Ovando.72
One problem that emerged during these later investigations was the
tense relationship between the university and the town of Alcalá de
Henares, particularly with regard to the students’ exemption from local
civil justice. Like other major universities in Spain, the personnel and
grounds of the university were autonomous, which led to a long history of
68 JUAN DE OVANDO
town and gown conflicts. The townspeople quickly seized the opportunity
offered by Ovando’s visitation to present their cases against the univer-
sity’s exemption from civil justice. In September 1565 Juan de Medimilla,
the city’s representative (procurador), entered a long list of complaints about
the lawlessness of the students, resulting in “many deaths” and scandals,
and the lack of judges and peace officers in the university.74 He cited as a
typical act of vandalism the fact that some students had broken open the
city gates when they had been walled up because of an epidemic. He asked
Ovando to allow the city government to take action against students for
these and other crimes. The university’s exemption was vigorously defended
by Martín de Zavarte, a síndico (an official who acted on behalf of the uni-
versity), who wrote that the city officials had no right to intrude into the
university’s jurisdiction.75 He claimed that the city officials knew nothing
of what was going on in the university and that many crimes were actually
committed by townspeople and then blamed on the students. He denied
Medimilla’s claim that there was insufficient justice within the university.
He even rejected Ovando’s right to hear any cases involving university
personnel because he did not have a specific commission for it.76
Despite Zavarte’s claim that Ovando had judicial authority, Ovando
was besieged by aggrieved parties who demanded justice. These included
claimants who had not been awarded chairs and candidates who had
failed to receive scholarships (becas). The local Franciscans complained that
when the university was founded, Cisneros had been allowed to take over
a hall they owned on condition that the Franciscan students be allowed to
attend lectures there. The hall had recently collapsed, together with part of
their house, and the rector and councillors were refusing to rebuild it.
Ovando found in favor of the Franciscans, though the administration of
the colegio appealed.77 One catedrático complained that his commentary
on Aristotle’s Physics was no longer required reading for the students.78
Musicians and notaries asked for salary increases, and the grandson of an
early faculty member, the great Spanish lexicographer Antonio de Nebrija,
wanted to know why a special burial place and anniversary mass for his
grandfather had not been implemented, as decreed by the rector and coun-
cillors in 1522.79 The sheer volume of these papers is staggering, and one
wonders how Ovando, even with the help of Vázquez and Carrillo, was
able to deal with them all.80
REVISING THE CONSTITUTIONS

Ovando’s most pressing task, and ultimately his most lasting achievement,
was the complete revision of the university’s constitutions and statutes.
The process was a difficult one, not least because there was no way of
knowing with certainty what the original constitutions and statutes were.
When Ovando began his reform, there were three handwritten versions of
the constitutions and seven printed ones. Since the latter lacked all author-
ization, Ovando had to work from the manuscripts. The various versions
contained substantial differences. The magnitude of Ovando’s task can
best be seen in the fact that a modern scholar, after a minute investigation
of the versions of the constitutions, has called them “an insoluble problem
of historical textual identification.”81
On 12 May 1565 Ovando addressed the claustro pleno of the univer-
sity, telling them to meet again on the following day and elect representa-
tives to meet with him for the purpose of examining and revising the con-
stitutions and statutes.82 Representatives were elected from the faculties
of theology, canon law, medicine, and languages. Perhaps because of his
own academic background, Ovando was following a far less authoritarian
course than he had as provisor of Seville. He assured all the personnel of
the university that their opinions would be respected, and he was faithful
to his word. Most of what Ovando did was in the nature of specifying
what was unclear and eliminating loopholes. There were some disagree-
ments since the faculty was more inclined to abide by the original consti-
tutions. There was only one major conflict over procedure, however, and
Ovando yielded on that issue. He refused to budge only on the question
of limpieza de sangre, which some faculty members were reluctant to
agree to.
On 11 July the representatives met with Ovando at his lodgings. He
informed them that after all the meetings and interviews, he had drawn
up the results in the form of statutes that paralleled the titles and materials
of Cisneros’s fundamental constitutions. In reality what he presented was
his own work, based on his findings in the reform. He expressed his hope
that they would agree to his ideas but that he would remove whatever
they did not approve. He then read the entire body of materials to them,
something that must have taken considerable time. After that he opened
the floor to suggestions. In cases of disagreement, a vote was taken and the
70 JUAN DE OVANDO
results appended to the end of each chapter. When any item was removed,
the opinions of the representatives, or at least of a majority, were added.83
The full claustro met for a week, from 21 to 28 August 1565. Those pres-
ent listened to the reading of the changes and additions to the constitutions
and discussed them in painstaking detail.84 Ovando opened the meetings
by discussing the discrepancies among the various copies of the constitu-
tions and the confusions that had been added by an accumulation of
orders and reforms in the years since 1517. He and the claustro then pro-
ceeded to a consideration of individual changes. In the majority of cases
the claustro had few major recommendations. The entire process seems to
have gone rather smoothly, and Ovando maintained his conciliatory
approach. One issue that surfaced was that of unblemished lineage. First of
all, this meant legitimacy. Neither the original constitutions nor any of the
subsequent additions required that the colegiales of San Ildefonso be of
legitimate birth. Title 7 was now amended to read that only legitimate sons
of a legitimate marriage could be admitted.85 Possibly thinking of his own
family background, Ovando suggested to the claustro that an illegitimate
son who had been legitimated according to law should be allowed to be a
candidate for the licenciado. The claustro rejected the proposal.86
The real question of lineage, of course, centered on limpieza de sangre.
Cisneros had avoided this issue in the original constitutions. Although the
colegio mayor of San Ildefonso adopted a statute of limpieza on 9 August
1519, subsequently approved by Pope Clement VII in 1525, there is room
to doubt that it was systematically implemented.87 When in 1547 Arch-
bishop Martínez Silíceo of Toledo enacted his ordinance of limpieza for the
cathedral chapter of Toledo and obtained the approval of that body for it,
the university sent the dean of the chapter an open letter condemning it.88
The move in favor of such statutes for the university seems to have been
strongest in the school of theology. On 21 September 1560 a statute was
unanimously enacted by the theology faculty that declared that no one
was to be admitted to the degree of licenciado “without a previous inves-
tigation as to whether he is an Old Christian, free of any race of Moors,
Jews, and conversos, and that neither he nor any of his parents or grand-
parents or great-grandparents, on either the father’s or mother’s side, have
received penances from the Holy Inquisition nor made infamous by any
other justice.”89 The statute also included those who were to hold chairs in
theology in the university. The statute was approved by the Council of
Castile and signed by the king on 21 June 1561.90 There may well have been
a popular belief that the university was a refuge for conversos, and there
is the possibility that the earliest known rector, Pedro de Santa Cruz, was a
converso. The statute, however, was still restricted to the school of theology.
The additions to the constitutions in this regard were undoubtedly ini-
tiated by Ovando, who was a firm supporter of the statutes of limpieza,
but they were also approved by the claustro. From this time on, no one
could be a colegial or major or minor chaplain of San Ildefonso who was
the son or descendant of a Jew, Moor, converso, pagan, heretic, or a person
made infamous by the Inquisition. If such a person was discovered to have
been admitted to the colegio, he was to be expelled immediately.91 The
statute was extended so that even servants and those who testified on
behalf of candidates had to be Old Christians.92
The strongest statement was placed among the qualifications for a can-
didate for the licenciado in theology. It substantially repeated the statute of
1560.93 Like the statute of 1560, Ovando’s original proposal had included
civil as well as inquisitorial justice, but this was voted out by the theology
faculty.94 There was a strong opinion among the representatives that the
statute should be moderated, but the majority of the theology faculty
favored it. The statute was extended to include the faculty of canon law,
but in more general terms: “no one who is infamous or the son of a recent
convert on either the father’s or mother’s side.”95 It seems that the matter
still met opposition. In the claustro pleno of 5 October 1565, Ovando made
reference to “the second proposal that was made in the preceding claustro
about the statute of limpieza which those who are to be licenciados in the-
ology should have.”96 The preceding claustro took place on 1 October and
dealt with the provision of prebends in San Ildefonso.97 From what can be
reconstructed of the meeting, it appears that some faculty members
objected to the statute on the grounds that it was a novelty. Ovando “in
view of the fact that the statute [of 1560], having been confirmed by His
Majesty, has the force of law, ordered that there be no more discussion of
the said proposal unless the claustro unanimously and without any dis-
senting vote decides otherwise.”98 There is no evidence that the matter was
pursued.
Ovando’s impact was stronger and more positive in other areas of the
university’s life and administration. In accordance with his commission
from the king, he drew up a complex and detailed set of regulations for the
72 JUAN DE OVANDO
election of regents and lecturers for the various chairs. Whereas Title 35 of
the constitutions had insisted on the qualities of the candidates, Ovando
emphasized efficient and honest processes, including such matters as time
limits, the method of voting, and the role of the rector. However, his wish
to detail the precise level of academic degree that a candidate should have
was overruled by the deputies and claustro, who were inclined toward
more leniency in this regard. As in other cases, the claustro tended to favor
the original constitutions, saying that anyone who met the qualifications
demanded therein should be allowed to compete.99 Ovando also increased
the salaries of all faculty members. The precise amount to be paid to the
faculty had not been specified in the original constitutions. Ovando’s
increases were not immediately approved by the claustro. Some voted for
them only on condition that the university had sufficient revenues: others
voted against them on the grounds that it did not.100
Even more important as a lasting contribution to the university was
Ovando’s additions to and rearrangement of the chairs in the various fac-
ulties, including a detailed specification of the course of studies, the mate-
rials to be covered by each chair within a certain period, and even the texts
that were to be used. The new arrangement was based on the needs of the
university and the students, the availability of funds, and also on a desire
to increase enrollment by offering a more varied program.101
In the school of theology Title 43 of Cisneros’s original constitutions had
established three principal chairs, Thomism, Scotism, and Nominalism,
which represented competing schools of theology “for our common toler-
ance.” Catedráticos had been required to lecture twice a day.102 Ovando’s
reform called for one lecture a day but compensated by creating three lesser
chairs. The second lecture on Thomism was replaced by the lesser chair of
Thomism, but the second lecture on Scotism was replaced by a lesser chair
of Durandus (ca. 1275–1334, a Dominican theologian who was neither
Thomist nor Nominalist but whose thought was often associated with the
latter). The Nominalist chair (also called the chair of Gabriel) lost a second
lecture, which was replaced by one on Aristotle’s Ethics, Economics, and
Politics.103 All five chairs of theology had to use the Sentences of Peter Lom-
bard, but the chairs of Scotism, Nominalism, and Durandism were specif-
ically required to cover the entire text in the course of four years.104 The
chair of Scripture, which seems to have been a lesser one, was raised to the
status of principal chair.105
The materials and order of study in the school of theology were drawn
up by the deputies and approved by the claustro, with Ovando’s concur-
rence. The chair of Thomism had as its principal text Aquinas’s Summa
Theologiae. Both the principal and lesser chairs were to lecture on it. The
arrangement was such that the professor was sure to cover all the material
during the course of the academic year rather than emphasize some parts
and hurry over others.106 The professors were to read the texts of both
Lombard and their authors integrally, not just give summaries.107 Dates
were established for covering each part of the course; however, if these
dates turned out to be unrealistic, the faculty could change them.108
Ovando also expanded other faculties. He established two new princi-
pal chairs and two lesser chairsof canon law. There were now six chairs of
canon law, the same number as systematic theology. Two new chairs of
Greek, apparently intended for beginners, were added to the one envi-
sioned by Title 58 of the original constitutions, and the text was specified.109
Two additional chairs of Hebrew, one principal and one lesser, were estab-
lished. The text was to be the grammar of Nicolas Clénard (Cleynaerts) of
Louvain (1495–1542), or a better one, if such could be found.110 If any stu-
dents wished to delve more deeply into Hebrew, the professor was obliged
to lecture on an unpointed text (i.e., one without vowel markings) to be
chosen by the rector and his councillors.111
Ovando devoted a great deal of time and attention to the school of med-
icine. Title 49 of the original constitutions had established two chairs of
medicine to be held by “two physicians of great learning and mature expe-
rience.” One was to teach Avicenna, the other Hippocrates and Galen, each
course lasting two years.112 The constitutions specified nothing further
about the content of the courses. As he had done in the school of theology,
Ovando restricted the principal chairs to one lecture a day and established
two lesser chairs, one of them in anatomy.113 Perhaps with the help of the
medical faculty, Ovando went far beyond the original constitutions and
listed the readings and subjects that the aspiring physician had to master.
Unfortunately, these are difficult to reconstruct with complete accuracy
because the scribe who copied the titles clearly had difficulty with the
unfamiliar Latin terms and erased and rewrote them numerous times.114
Certainly recognizable is the first book of Hippocrates’ Prognostics. Other
works dealt with such subjects as bloodletting, pulse taking, symptoms
and diseases, and simple medicines. In all these embraced seven courses.
74 JUAN DE OVANDO
The course in anatomy was to last two years. The first year was dedicated
to the study of bones and the dissection of extremities, arteries, veins, and
muscles and the use of medical instruments. From 1 November until the
following April, the coldest part of the year, the students were required to
dissect a human body every two weeks, if one was available.115 A royal
order of 4 April 1559 had specified that the cadavers of those executed for
crimes or who died in the hospitals of the city were to be given to the med-
ical school for dissection.116 Bachelor’s degree holders in medicine were
also required to accompany a doctor or licenciado of the medical faculty
for two years.117
Originally, the chair of arts envisioned by Cisneros included a compre-
hensive course in philosophy. Ovando’s reform resulted in three chairs of
rhetoric, two of Hebrew and one of mathematics.118 There was also a
detailed description of how the lecturer was to teach his class.119 Included
in the arts were courses on mathematics and astronomy. The basic authors
in mathematics were Ptolemy and Aristotle. If, however, some students
were able enough and requested additional lessons in “speculative astrol-
ogy,” they could study in the Almagest of Ptolemy or the works of Coper-
nicus, provided that they did not miss regular classes.120
Ovando’s reform offers fascinating insights into the day-by-day func-
tioning of the university. His disciplinary provisions were more draconian
than Cisneros’s. The latter’s constitutions specified that any chaplain or
colegial who spent the night outside the colegio was to punished for the
first offense with three days of bread and water, for the second with a dep-
rivation of a month’s income, and for the third expulsion. Ovando ruled
that anyone in San Ildefonso who went outside after the door was locked
in the evening was to be expelled immediately. Any outsider caught inside
the colegio after the door was closed was to spend six days in chains in the
colegio’s jail for the first offense, with the sentence doubling for each sub-
sequent transgression.121
When Ovando began his reform there was already a schedule of holi-
days. There were two school calendars, one for the students in arts and one
for the schools of theology, canon law, and medicine. The rationale was
that the younger students in arts had to be kept busy because of their nat-
ural propensity to vanity and idleness. Consequently, their calendar pro-
vided less free time than did the other. Holidays were divided into two
classes according to the classic scholastic qualifications simpliciter (in the
full sense of the term) and secundum quid (after a fashion or in a qualified
sense). On the former the regents were not required to lecture at all; on the
latter they had to give one lecture in the afternoon. There were ten holi-
days simpliciter. Twelve specified days, plus all Sundays and feasts estab-
lished by the archdiocese of Toledo, were holidays secundum quid.
The list of holidays that emerged from Ovando’s reform was consider-
ably augmented. For the arts, the number of holidays simpliciter was raised
to an astounding thirty-one (seven movable and twenty-four immovable
feasts). The holidays secundum quid were thirteen, plus all Sundays of the
year and the Thursday of any week that did not have a holiday. Whereas
Sundays were feasts secundum quid for the lecturers in arts and grammar,
they were simpliciter for all the faculties in theology, medicine, and canon
law. Holidays secundum quid for all faculties without exception were Ash
Wednesday, the Wednesday after Easter, All Souls Day (1 November), and
the day in honor of Cardinal Cisneros (16 November). The summer vaca-
tion was relatively brief, 11 July to 24 August. Although the grant of holi-
days seems generous, it is in line with the number of feast days in Spanish
society at that time.
In general, classes were held from 7:00 to 11:00 a.m. and from 1:00 to
5:00 p.m. During the summer, the schedule was moved forward an hour in
the morning and back an hour in the afternoon. The most detailed descrip-
tion of a daily schedule is found in a proposal for the school of arts that
Ovando presented to the claustro pleno. The regent was to spend one hour
lecturing (7:00 to 8:00 a.m.) and then leave the classroom, shutting the
door so that no student could leave. The students were expected to spend
that time discussing the lecture. At 9:00 a.m. the regent returned, answered
any questions and doubts that had arisen, and gave a second lecture,
repeating the process of shutting the students in. From 12:00 to 1:00 p.m. he
gave a review (reparación) of the morning’s lecture. The entire process was
repeated through the afternoon until 6:00 p.m. The claustro voted against
having the regent shut the students in the classroom and in favor of retain-
ing the old complutense tradition of having the regent “go to the post.”122
There was only one area in which Ovando seems to have encountered
a major challenge from the claustro. In the claustro pleno of 5 October 1565,
Ovando discussed in great detail the problems involved in the conflicting
and overlapping jurisdictions within the university. Those who were sup-
posed to give judicial decisions found themselves in a statute of “mutual
76 JUAN DE OVANDO
and reciprocal subjection.”123 Everyone involved in elections or examina-

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

What impact did Ovando’s reforms have on the university? Perhaps a
more important question would be whether his reforms marked a move
away from the original spirit of the university’s founder. González Navarro
is of the opinion that by Ovando’s time, Cisneros’s original vision had been
altered, especially as a result of increased royal control.126 On the other
hand, Martín Esperanza, rector of the university in 1805, wrote a glowing
account of Ovando’s work, speaking of his “immortal statutes” and the
“grandeur of his reform.”127 For Esperanza, all subsequent reforms were
merely variations on Ovando’s work. Most authors, for example, Joaquín
de Entrambasaguas and Luis Alonso Muñoyerro, see the decline of the
university as having become clear in the seventeenth century, in part
because of the reforms of the Bourbon monarchs.128
In the sense that the king as patron was beginning to overshadow all
other patrons and that royal authority, especially as exercised through the
Council of Castile, was being thoroughly established as dominant at the
university, González Navarro is correct. However, this did not occur until
the seventeenth century. In 1618 the council assumed the right to have the
annual visita made by one of its members.129 In 1672, in a final turnabout,
the study of civil law was introduced at the request of the university itself.
The school of medicine lost prestige, and eventually both mathematics and
theology disappeared from the curriculum. By a royal order of 21 February
1777, Charles III removed the governance of the university from the colegio
mayor of San Ildefonso and separated the rectorships.130 Henceforth the

university was no different from any other in Spain. In 1836, in the final
period of its decline, the university was removed to Madrid.
In terms of the academic program and the rules of the various colegios,
however, Ovando’s reforms were very much in accord with Cisneros’s
original version. The one exception to this is the emphasis on limpieza de
sangre, but this emphasis had first begun to be felt before Ovando’s time
and within the university itself, specifically, within the school of theology.
Ovando’s work was complex, but the consistent theme was expanding
the academic offerings of the university and clarifying those procedures
that were vague or obscure in the constitutions. Additional chairs were set
up in almost every faculty. The greatest expansion was to be found in the-
ology, canon law, and medicine. Perhaps because medicine had been the
least specified by Cisneros, it received a major share of Ovando’s attention,
especially the study of anatomy. His reforms in the medical school were
broad and farsighted. In the school of theology the diversity foreseen by
Cisneros was allowed to remain. The aspiring theologian could choose
from among competing schools: Thomism, Scotism, Durandism, and Nomi-
nalism. The latter school is perhaps the most remarkable because of its
popular association with the thought of Martin Luther. It was also the most
popular. The study of Copernicus was an elective in the arts curriculum,
and no objections were raised.131 The biblical emphasis also remained, with
the study of Hebrew given special encouragement. However, Cisneros’s
original intention to found a chair of Arabic, which had never been imple-
mented, seems not to have been seriously considered. It should also be
noted that Ovando’s reforms encountered little opposition from the fac-
ulty. On the contrary, there seems to have been a spirit of cooperation,
unusual in any academic setting, and an acknowledgment that his work
was not undermining the distinctive nature of the university. The same can
also be said of the clarification of procedures for elections and the financial
operations of the university. What is clear is the theological pluralism and
vitality of the university, as opposed to the popular picture of a closed,
obscurantist society. In summary, Ovando’s work at the University of
Alcalá de Henares was an accommodation of the founder’s original vision
to a changed world but an accommodation that was faithful to the original.
It was also one of the major accomplishments of Ovando’s life.
78 JUAN DE OVANDO
MOVING ON
On 1 May 1565 Ovando called a claustro pleno to inform the faculties of his
departure for Madrid.132 Whether he actually went is not known. He still
had a major portion of his work ahead of him. Three months later, when
Ovando, in the midst of all his other activities, was arranging to purchase
a mule for Diego de Espinosa, word arrived that Espinosa had been named
president of the Council of Castile. Mateo Vázquez wrote a hurried letter
of congratulations to the future cardinal and immediately offered to enter
his service.133 Ovando followed this almost immediately with an enthusi-
astic recommendation for Vázquez. He also expressed his concern for
Archbishop Valdés’s health and asked Espinosa if he should make a spe-
cial journey to see the ailing prelate.134 In September Ovando planned to
go to Madrid to ask Espinosa about a position, but the death of a near rel-
ative prevented him.135 On 9 October 1565 he dispatched a kinsman, frey
Diego de Ovando, to carry a report on the reform to the president of the
Council of Castile. He wrote to Vázquez, who had entered Cardinal
Espinosa’s service in Madrid in September, of his desire to finish the reform
and his discomfort at not receiving a salary from his posts in Seville.136 As
he pointed out, however, no matter what the cost he could not fail in the
work that had been entrusted to him.137 This was literally true, because
until the day of his death Ovando had not been paid for his services as
reformer.138 Six days later Ovando repeated his protest that he had no other
thought than the service of God and king, but he was also growing more
anxious to leave Alcalá de Henares. He asked Vázquez to help Nicolás
de Ovando (who had also entered Espinosa’s service) find him lodging
in Madrid.139 Despite his wish to leave, however, he tarried in Alcalá to
see how well his reforms were being observed and also to audit the
financial records for the previous academic year.140 Perhaps another rea-
son was his desire to frustrate an effort by the rector and councillors to
be involved in the process of approbation by the Council of Castile. On
30 October 1565 Philip II wrote to them that he had heard that reform
would soon be finished and that they had named or wanted to name
persons to come to court to be present when the visita was seen. He
instructed them not to.
By January 1566 Ovando was back in Seville, where he took up resi-
dence with the Inquisition and on 6 January resumed the office of provisor.
As he wrote to Vázquez, “You know how I hate to be idle.”141 He was also

anticipating a call from Cardinal Espinosa. The call came toward the end
of the month when Espinosa ordered the Council of Castile to take up con-
sideration of the reform and that Ovando come to participate. Ovando left
Seville for a new career on 25 January 1566.142
CHAPTER FIVE
The Council of the Supreme

and General Inquisition
O
n 11 December 1566 Juan de Ovando became a member of the
Supreme and General Council of the Inquisition,1 the most power-
ful, controversial, and reviled institution in Spanish history. It was
one that he believed in and that opened to him the road of advancement to
higher positions.
On 1 November 1478 Pope Sixtus IV signed the bull Exigit sincerae devo-
tionis affectus (A Feeling of Sincere Devotion Demands), which granted to
the Catholic Monarchs the right to appoint two or three bishops or priests
to act as inquisitors in the cities and dioceses of Spain.2 This simple con-
cession marked the beginning of the three and a half centuries of the
Spanish Inquisition. It was a striking move away from established Spanish
tradition. There had never been an Inquisition in Castile, and the Roman
Inquisition, which had functioned in Aragon, was all but dead.3 Although
the Inquisition was popularly regarded as a Castilian invention, Fernando
of Aragon may have played a crucial role in its development.4 There is
also a possibility that the Inquisition was originally regarded as a crisis
measure rather than a permanent institution.5 Once established, however,
it spread throughout Spain and became permanent. Even more than the
other bureaucracies on the peninsula, the Inquisition tended to expand its
authority beyond its original limitations. It was the only authority, outside
that of the monarchs themselves, that was universal throughout the
Spanish territories.
In fact, there seems to have been little genuine heresy in Spain.6 The
Inquisition had no authority over non-Christians. Its raison d’être was the
THE COUNCIL OF THE SUPREME AND GENERAL INQUISITION 81
large number of recent converts to Catholicism whose sincerity and devo-

tion to their new faith were suspect.7
The Inquisition did not begin to function until 1480, and then only in
Seville, but within ten years there were branches throughout Castile. The
Roman Inquisition continued briefly in Aragon, but because it was under
papal, not royal, control it was united to that of Castile in 1483 under the
direction of the Dominican Tomás de Torquemada (1420–98), who may
have been of converso extraction.8 In effect he became the first Inquisitor
General, the only person besides the monarchs whose authority extended
to all of Spain.9 In 1483 he established the appellate council commonly
called the Suprema. It originally consisted of a president and three mem-
bers. This was followed by the formulation of the ordinances of the
Inquisition, which would be revised many times in the succeeding years.
These laid down the basic procedures that the tribunal would follow
throughout its existence. The period of Torquemada’s ascendancy was
characterized by a fanatical campaign against crypto-Jews.10 Ovando
said of him, “Because he was a poor friar he was the best Inquisitor Gen-
eral there ever was.”11
Torquemada’s successors were bishops. The first was Diego de Deza
(1498–1507), archbishop of Seville, whom Ovando regarded as a good
archbishop because he resided in his archdiocese.12 This, however, mili-
tated against his being a good inquisitor “and so everything was done and
administered by Dominican friars, and they carried out the processes with-
out any order, which caused astonishment because of the readiness with
which they burned people.”13 Cisneros was inquisitor of Castile in 1507–17
(another person held the post for the rest of Spain). He was succeeded by
Alonso Manrique, archbishop of Seville (1523–38), whose devotion to his
archdiocese caused him to neglect the work of the Inquisition.14 He was
also a humanist with marked Erasmian tendencies whose fall from royal
favor in 1529 was a setback for the Erasmians.15
The most vigorous period of the Inquisition was from 1480 to about
1530.16 In the first decades of the sixteenth century the Inquisition spread
its net to include alumbrados and Erasmians. Both groups sought a simpler,
less externalized route to God and spirituality. The followers of Desiderius
Erasmus of Rotterdam (1466?–1536) preferred ethical to doctrinal Chris-
tianity and wanted to return Catholicism to the simplicity of the early church.
They were critical of clericalism, monks, and many devotional practices, such
82 JUAN DE OVANDO
as pilgrimages and indulgences. Erasmianism in Spain reached its high

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

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

civil and ecclesiastical.26 The Spanish Inquisition, however, did intrude into
areas other than heresy, specifically, moral lapses such as bigamy and blas-
phemy. The case of sodomy was more complex. According to William
Monter, the Inquisition in Aragon took jurisdiction over cases of sodomy
while Castile consistently refused. Prosecutions rarely involved consent-
ing adults; sodomy was viewed in terms of adults and adolescents and
involved consummated anal intercourse. It retained its competence in
those areas throughout most of its history, although trials for sodomy
declined in the seventeenth century.27
The Holy Office was supported by goods confiscated from those con-
demned for various offenses. This meant that its financial stability was in
direct proportion to the number of persons it arrested and condemned,
hardly an incentive for the impartial administration of justice. As a finan-
cial base, it proved insufficient, and so the practice grew of uniting various
prebends or canonries to the Inquisition.28 The diocesan clergy who were
also candidates for these positions resented this, and the result was a large
number of lawsuits.29 Thus the inquisitors gained positions in cathedral and
collegiate chapters and used the income to supplement their somewhat
meager salaries. In addition, the Holy Office derived income from censos, or
investment income. The Inquisition never held much real property, and its
finances were always precarious. Not surprisingly, corruption proved an
endemic problem. Greed was not the only source of excess. A lust for power
and intemperate zeal in ferreting out heresy sometimes played equal or
larger roles.30
The Inquisition to which Torquemada gave form met opposition. The
concept of capital punishment for heresy is not only repugnant to modern
minds; it was equally so to many Spaniards of the fifteenth century. Its pro-
cedures ran counter to traditional Spanish concepts of justice. Objections
were raised to the secrecy of proceedings and the inability of the accused
to confront witnesses.31 In addition to being viewed in Aragon as an alien
institution, the Inquisition was seen as a threat to Spanish rights and liber-
ties.32 The various provinces and kingdoms of Spain resisted the intrusion
of the Inquisition into their traditional rights, or fueros. Often this required
the Suprema to enter into concordias, or jurisdictional agreements, with local
cortes and civil governments.33 Opposition was also expressed through con-
spiracies, riots, pressures brought by special interests, and even attempts
on the lives of the personnel. Ultimately the objections had little impact,
although some of the realms on the peninsula were able to force changes
through the practice of concordias.
In late 1563 Philip had to face attacks on the Inquisition in the cortes of
Aragon.34 The Aragonese nobility were angry over the Inquisition’s moves
against the Moriscos under their authority.35 Although Philip tried to pre-
vent any discussion of the matter, he eventually had to take notice of the
complaints, and in 1568 he allowed some limitations on the Inquisition’s
authority in Aragon. There were also attacks on the Inquisition in Murcia
and Mallorca in 1568 and in Valencia in 1567. There was even stronger
opposition in Cataluña in 1569.36
One of the worst aspects of the Inquisition, and one that was particularly
galling to Spanish traditionalists, was the concept of infamy. Condemnation
by the Holy Office was something that was never really expunged. In some
ways it was logical that a person condemned by the Holy Office should be
considered notorious. This stain, however, remained throughout his life
and was passed down to his descendants. The sambenito was permanently
displayed in the local church so that the infamy passed to succeeding gen-
erations. From an early period, condemnation of an ancestor by the Holy
Office contaminated a family’s limpieza de sangre.
In some cases arrest and prolonged imprisonment preceded the actual
investigative process, resulting in financial loss or ruin for the persons
arrested. The abuses and corruption associated with the Holy Office aroused
protests. The exemptions and immunities enjoyed by Inquisition officials
were resented. The familiares were controversial, both because of their
exemption from civil law and because of their association with corruption.37
According to Stephen Haliczer, “[H]atred for the Inquisition ran deep, and
it was constantly forced to protect itself and its agents from verbal and phys-
ical attack.”38 Well into the sixteenth century there were calls for reform, par-
ticularly of the policy of total secrecy, but most of these failed because of the
strong position of the inquisitors and the attitude of the crown itself.
Early in its history the Inquisition became a training ground for royal civil
servants. It was one of the ways that a letrado could advance in the royal
service or become a bishop. For that reason inquisitorial posts, especially on
the Suprema, were prizes to be coveted and pursued. Terms of service were
relatively short, often no more than four or six years. Inquisitors could
expect to become bishops or be advanced, like Ovando, to important royal
86 JUAN DE OVANDO
councils. Monter has shown that these men “were famous for their learning
and capable of filling top posts in various branches of royal government”
and in an apt phrase called them “interchangeable careerists.”39
During the reign of Philip II, the Inquisition received consistent royal
protection and favor. The king was dedicated to the preservation of the
Holy Office and would accept no criticism of it or efforts to diminish its
authority. Whatever his feelings about religious toleration in other coun-
tries, Philip was determined that there would be no room for heterodoxy in
Spain or its dependencies. In addition to his religious feelings, the king was
influenced by his conviction that heresy went hand in hand with rebellion
and civil disorder, and, with memories of the comuneros ever fresh in his
mind, he regarded rebellion with a special horror.40 In Fernando de Valdés
he found the ideal instrument for this task.
On 23 January 1547 Pope Paul III named Valdés archbishop of Seville
and Inquisitor General Apostolic against Heretical Depravity and Apos-
tasy.41 His appointment marked a sharp change in Inquisition policies as
the tribunal entered its second period of ferocity. Valdés was essentially an
ecclesiastical careerist who used his various positions for personal advance-
ment, and he exploited the crown’s genuine fear of heresy as a means of
rescuing his own career. During his term, which lasted until 1566, the Inqui-
sition renewed its campaign against the remnants of Erasmianism and the
alumbrados in Spain. The cases of Egidio, Constantino, and Archbishop
Carranza of Toledo became symbolic of this repression. Because of this
campaign a whole generation of spiritual writers and thinkers came under
suspicion.42
Even after his retirement Charles V remained involved in his son’s poli-
cies, frequently sending advice, memoranda, and recommendations. On
25 May 1558, from his place of retirement at Yuste, he wrote a letter urging
stronger moves against Lutherans.43 Perhaps this grew out of his experience
in the Holy Roman Empire, or perhaps it was the result of his increasing
religiosity. In addition, the Catholic Reformation, sparked by the Council of
Trent and the work of reforming popes, was beginning to make an impact
on the Catholic world. Whatever the reason, Philip II was only too ready
and willing to take his revered father’s advice to heart. Charles’s letter coin-
cided with the discovery in 1557–58 of a group of alleged Lutherans in
Valladolid and Seville. This discovery, which gave rise to wild rumors
about the dangers of Protestantism in Spain, provided Valdés with an
opportunity to extricate himself from the difficult position to which his fol-
lies had led him. Because he was still in danger of losing royal favor, he
began to exploit the cases of the Seville Lutherans and Archbishop Car-
ranza. He presented the crown with an alarming picture of heterodox
opinion on the loose throughout Castile and urged that the Inquisition be
put in charge of investigating it.44 Philip agreed and urged his sister,
Princess Juana, to use all methods necessary to uproot heresy.45 The regent
did as her brother and father wished, and with the help of Valdés a number
of new regulations were issued, including a law on censorship. In May
1559 an auto de fe was held in Valladolid, the prelude to many others.
Among the condemned was Agustín Cazalla, who had been in the Nether-
lands with the king and was a noted preacher. Philip himself returned in
time to attend another auto in Valladolid in October 1559. Though the
repression was severe, it should not be exaggerated. It fell on a relatively
small number of persons, and the works of Erasmus continued to be
imported and read.46
Valdés reorganized the Holy Office and issued a new codification of its
rules. On 7 September 1558 a harsh decree on censorship of books was
issued.47 Valdés issued an index of forbidden books in 1559 and was respon-
sible for Benito Arias Montano’s Index expurgatorius published in the Nether-
lands in 1571.48 In the same year he obtained a papal brief that extended his
authority, including limited authority over bishops. There was a conscious
attempt, beginning with Philip II’s recall of Spanish students studying
abroad (22 November 1559), to isolate Spain from the rest of Europe. This
decree, however, was limited to Castile and seems not to have had much
practical impact.49 In 1568 he issued an order for the crown of Aragon that
students could not study in France.50
In 1564 Diego de Espinosa was named coadjutor to Valdés. The ostensible
reason was the latter’s advancing age and increasing infirmities, though
both king and pope wanted to get rid of him.51 Espinosa has never found
a worthy biographer and despite his prominence in the government of
Philip II, information about him is sketchy and often inaccurate.52 He was
born at Martín Muñoz de las Posadas near Avila in 1513 or 1514.53 His par-
ents, Diego de Espinosa and Catalina de Arévalo, were poor hidalgos. In
1522 he was admitted to first tonsure, apparently in anticipation of a career
in the church, but did not receive other orders until 1564.54 He twice sought
admission to the colegio mayor de San Bartolomé at Salamanca but was
88 JUAN DE OVANDO
turned down. The date of his first application is unknown. He competed

for the second time on 2 August 1542, but there was no inquiry into his
qualifications, “pasose sin informacion.”55
The reasons for his rejection were not given, but since Espinosa was not
an uncommon name among conversos, this may have been a factor. The
investigation made in April and May 1568 at the time of his appointment
as bishop of Sigüenza declared him an Old Christian. It should be noted,
however, that most of the witnesses were members of the Royal Council or
the Suprema and that the investigation was carried out by Doctor Nicolás
de Ovando, who had entered Espinosa’s service around 1566. In 1566 there
was an investigation into his background when his nephew, also named
Diego de Espinosa, sought entrance into the military order of Santiago.
None of the witnesses knew or could remember the name of the elder
Diego de Espinosa’s maternal grandmother. It was said that her name was
Calderón. This led to accusations in his lifetime that his mother was not a
true hidalgo and to the suspicion by modern historians that he may have
been of converso background.56 This investigation is a good example of the
difficulty of proving limpieza in the late sixteenth century and of the ways
that the process could be manipulated.
Around 1540 he went to Salamanca to study law. He applied to the Cole-
gio de Santiago el Zebedeo, more commonly called the Colegio Mayor de
Cuenca, and he was admitted in 1543. He distinguished himself as a stu-
dent and professor of canon and civil law.57 He took the degree of licenciado
in canon law at Salamanca in 1547 and taught there.58
Espinosa’s many enemies considered him of mediocre intellectual abil-
ity and cited this as the reason for his twofold rejection by San Bartolomé.59
They attributed his remarkable rise to powerful patrons, including Her-
nando Niño de Guevara, Juan de Figueroa, Hernán Pérez, Francisco de
Eraso, Francisco de Menchaca, and Briviesca de Muñatones.60 Espinosa
also established a firm friendship with the Jesuits, including Francisco
Borja, the duke of Gandía and future superior general of the Society. At that
time the Jesuits were influential at court. At Salamanca he made numerous
friends who remained with him for life and whose careers he promoted:
Juan Zapata de Cárdenas, Francisco Hernández de Liévana, Francisco
Briceño, Francisco Sancho, and Juan Arce de Otálora. Later he would add
Juan de Ovando and Mateo Vázquez to this list.
Espinosa left the colegio at about the age of thirty-five. In 1548 he was
named appeals judge of the archdiocese of Zaragoza and was then called
by Niño de Guevara, bishop of Sigüenza, to be provisor of the diocese.
There is no documentation as to how this came about. Martínez Millán the-
orizes that it was arranged by Francisco de Montalvo, a member of the
Council of Castile and a friend of Niño de Guevara, who had been born in
Martin Muñoz de las Posadas and may have been related to Espinosa.61
Niño de Guevara was president of the Council of Castile and probably was
responsible for the beginnings of Espinosa’s career. However, Niño died
suddenly in 1552. Because the bishop was an enemy of Valdés, Espinosa
suffered a brief eclipse, and there is no definitive information on what he
did. Martínez Millán believes that he returned to his hometown. At about
this time he seems to have linked his fortunes to the ebolista faction.62 Niño
de Guevara had proposed him as oidor of the chancellería of Granada, but
he had been turned down. Unfortunately, the chronology of his office-
holding is not clear.
The licenciado Hernán Pérez de la Fuente arranged for him to be
appointed oidor of Seville in 1553. Pérez de la Fuente had conducted a
visita of the audiencia of Seville in 1551 during which he reorganized the
audiencia and increased the number of judges, thus requiring more letra-
dos. Espinosa was in Seville from 1553 to 1556. During his stay in Seville,
he became friendly with Vázquez de Alderete, Ovando, Gaspar Cervantes
de Gaete, and the very young Mateo Vázquez.63 On 29 February 1556 he
was named regent of the Council of Navarre, chiefly through the agency of
Francisco de Eraso, Francisco de Menchaca, and Briviesca de Muñatones,
and later in the year a member of the Council of Castile.64 After Seville he
became a judge of the chancellería of Valladolid. These three appointments
brought him into contact with the court.65
Most of Espinosa’s work was done in lay administration, although he
had been admitted to first tonsure. There seems to have been some reluc-
tance on his part to become a cleric—a contemporary profile says that “he
does not wish to be a cleric”—and it was not until March 1564 that he was
ordained to the priesthood.66 This change of vocation came when he was
almost fifty years old. Because as regent of Navarre he was involved in the
judgment of criminal cases, he renounced any income from the church. In
1564, in anticipation of receiving more ecclesiastical orders, he obtained a
90 JUAN DE OVANDO
dispensation from the canonical impediments to ordination that resulted

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

Cabrera de Córdoba. They were, he said, “contented by his victories, dis-
contented by his triumph.”82
On 4 December 1566 Espinosa notified the Suprema that the pope, “tak-
ing into consideration the age and infirmities of the Most Reverend Lord
Don Fernando de Valdés, who has asked to be relieved of the office and
charge of Inquisitor General,” had appointed Espinosa to the position.83 The
papal appointment had actually been made the previous 8 September. The
cardinal was now president of the two most powerful councils in Spain.
One week after the notification to the Suprema, Juan de Ovando was
appointed a councillor.84 Ovando’s first recorded participation in a meeting
was on 24 December 1566.85 His fellow councillors were Rodrigo de Castro,
Sancho Busto de Villegas, and Soto Salazar. In 1567 they were joined by
Hernando de Vega, like Ovando a future president of the Council of the
Indies.86 At an unknown date Ovando’s protégé, Mateo Vázquez, became a
secretary to the Suprema. Vázquez’s first known participation was in
December 1567. What his precise duties were is not clear. It was in early
1569, while he held this position, that he was ordained to the priesthood.87
The Holy Office under Espinosa was in many ways a quite different
institution from what it had been under Valdés. While Bataillon’s state-
ment that there was a general sigh of relief may be exaggerated, the Inqui-
sition was certainly less ferocious.88 In part this was because many of the
targets of the Inquisition, such as the Erasmians, alumbrados, and conver-
sos, had been largely eliminated. Also, Espinosa and his councillors were
concerned about reining in the independence of the local tribunals and reg-
ularizing the procedures and organization of the Holy Office.89 Espinosa
and his aides brought letrado sensitivities to bear on the Inquisition and
sought to make it a more coherent and law-abiding body. The increase of
control over the local bodies included matters of both finance and central-
ization. The finances of the Inquisition were in poor condition. Salaries in
the local tribunals were low, with a corresponding temptation to increase
confiscations. In the last years of Valdés’s presidency many of the local inqui-
sitions had begun to operate as virtually independent bodies. Espinosa not
only sought to regain control but also to impose order on them.
All of this required meticulous record keeping. The president sent out
detailed instructions on the number and kind of books to be kept.90 In Janu-
ary 1567 he demanded reports on the number of familiares and consultors
92 JUAN DE OVANDO
in the various districts.91 The following May the Suprema ordered the local
tribunals to send copies of all letters for a general archive of the Holy
Office.92 In 1568 it directed that all the processes of relajados, or persons who
had been remanded to the secular arm, be sent to it.93 Two months later it
circulated a book detailing the procedures of the Holy Office that each local
tribunal was obliged to follow.94 In 1570 an edict forbade tribunals in towns
where there were bishops and cathedrals from appointing comisarios, local
clergy who assisted the inquisitors, without first consulting the Suprema.95
The control also extended to lesser matters. The Suprema decreed that
in an auto de fe the relajados pertinaces, or condemned persons who refused
to recant, were not to be accompanied by clerics or religious but only by
the confessors who were with them the night before.96 They also sent an
order about the reconciliados por diminutos, those who had made partial
confessions, but it is difficult to say precisely what the order was.97 Another
order reaffirmed that copies of testimonies should be kept, according to
custom.98 In 1571 confessors in Granada were granted faculties to absolve
Moriscos privately from apostasy and heresy.99 Local inquisitors were
instructed to investigate accusations of solicitation in the confessional in
the best way they could.100
The financial problems were acute. The first step taken by the new
Inquisitor General and his councillors was to gather information on the
financial status of the local inquisitions. They sent a letter, erroneously
dated 24 January 1566, to the various tribunals demanding an accounting
of money.101 At the end of the same year the Suprema sent out a circular
instructing the local tribunals to submit reports of income and expendi-
tures.102 A year later another circular raised salaries or gave financial aid to
local officials, “trusting that you gentlemen . . . will take the care and dili-
gence that are required in such a troubled time.”103 As a money-saving
measure, the Suprema ordered the tribunals to accelerate the cases of poor
prisoners (whose food was paid for by the Inquisition) and not wait until
the auto de fe to resolve them.104 The Suprema also issued orders concern-
ing the canonries held by the Inquisition105 whose income was frequently
tied up in endless lawsuits brought by disappointed candidates or by the
chapters themselves.106 The money-saving measures extended beyond the
grave. When Valdés died, Espinosa directed that he should be given the
usual honors by the local tribunals but that there should be moderation in
the cost.107
On 19 August 1569 the Suprema, in consultation with Cardinal Espinosa,

sent out a general instruction on the proper care and order of the Inquisi-
tion’s finances.108 It was a classic example of the letrado approach to
administration. The instruction cautioned local inquisitors to be careful
about money and goods and pointed out that both salaries and costs had
gone up. A receptor, or receiver, was not to sell or dispose of confiscated
goods without authorization from the senior inquisitor. All officials were to
meet on the last day of the month to discuss finances, and serious ques-
tions were to be forwarded to the Inquisitor General and the Suprema for
resolution. The local inquisitors were allowed to pay certain expenses,
such as food for indigent prisoners, but not to pay for transporting inquisi-
tors and their officials to their homes. No general payments were to be
made, and every item was to be accounted for. The instruction also restricted
payments on the occasion of an auto de fe and directed that spending lim-
its imposed by the Inquisitor General were not to be exceeded. The Suprema
was to be kept well informed. The instruction was an attempt to bring
rationality and order to what had been a slipshod procedure.
One means of vigilance was the visita, of which there were two kinds.
One was an investigation of local tribunals by the Suprema; the other was
the investigations made by the local tribunals of the territories in their
jurisdiction. In 1567 Espinosa demanded to see the edicts that were pub-
lished in the visitas of the various districts.109 In 1567 Soto Salazar made a
comprehensive visitation of three tribunals.110 Two years later he made a
similar visitation of the inquisition in Murcia and instituted a full-scale
reform.111 The frequent absences of councillors from the Suprema may be
explained by similar visitas to other local tribunals, for the members of the
Suprema were basically itinerant. In November 1567 the Suprema issued a
set of instructions on how the visitas of the various districts were to be
made.112 In 1570, at the same time that he granted the salary increase,
Espinosa ordered that each inquisitor had to make an annual visita of his
district for four months of each year. Failure to do so brought a fine of
50,000 maravedís. Receptors had to show proof of the visita before they
could be paid.113
In light of all this, it is not surprising that the Suprema paid somewhat
less attention to what may be called true inquisitorial activity.114 Some of
this involved vigilance over shipping and the frontier with France, since
the south of France was viewed as a Calvinist stronghold.115 Though there
94 JUAN DE OVANDO
appears to have been very little heresy among the Catalans, their proxim-
ity to France was worrisome.116 On 18 January 1571 the Suprema informed
the local tribunals that because of a meeting that the princess of Béarne had
had with some Protestants, their ministers were entering Spain in disguise.
The inquisitors were exhorted to pray that God would spare Spain from
heresy, “since we have from his divine hand every obligation to give him
infinite thanks for the good state in which religious matters are found in
it.”117 In an almost farcical episode, the crown attempted to use the Inqui-
sition to stop the export of horses to Calvinists in France. The first directive
was sent by the Suprema on 23 May 1569, with the follow-up in February
1574. The effort failed, both because of resistance by the Catalans and
because it was not Inquisition business.118
The major concern of the Inquisition was books, not only those that were
openly heretical, but also vernacular translations of scripture and orthodox
works with suspect passages. These books formed the bulk of the Suprema’s
work during the time that Ovando was a member.119 Some books were
ordered sent to the Suprema immediately without anyone being permitted
to have copies. Among these were works on Saint John and Romans by
Miguel de Medinaceli, a Franciscan, and a book titled Problemata Sacrae
Scripturae by the Franciscan Giorgio Veneto.120 The most intense activity
occurred in May, June, and October 1568. In May and June two orders were
issued to collect copies of Gonzalo de Illescas’s Historia pontifical y católica.121
At the same time the Suprema instituted a search for a vernacular transla-
tion of the Bible by Casiodoro, a friar living in Geneva.122 This was Casiodoro
de Reina, a former Observantine Hieronymite who had been a leader of a
Lutheran cell in Seville. He had been burned in effigy at the auto de fe in
Seville on 26 April 1560, together with Doctor Egidio and Constantino
Ponce de la Fuente. He completed his translation of the Bible into Spanish
in 1569.123 In June the Suprema also issued warnings against the works of
the French Protestant humanist Pierre Ramus, whom it identified as a
“Lutheran catedrático.”124 In August orders came to confiscate Los Feros’s
commentary on Ecclesiastes and Ceiglerius’s Implimion de naturali his-
toria.125 Because of observations made by faculty at the University of Alcalá
de Henares, the Suprema ordered the correction of an edition of the works
of Saint Cyril published at Basel in 1566 and of a book on the Four Last
Things by Denis the Carthusian.126 After that there were relatively few con-
fiscations.127
No reasons were given for these confiscations, though the works of

Ramus and perhaps Casiodoro were overtly Protestant. The latter would
also have been suspect because of his translations of scripture into Spanish.
Giorgio Veneto was probably viewed as having appeal to persons with
alumbrado sympathies. Denis the Carthusian and Gonzalo de Illescas, on
the other hand, were highly regarded and orthodox Catholic writers.
Illescas was obliged to expunge certain critical comments about the popes,
and his work was republished in 1574. Except for Illescas, all these authors
were non-Spaniards.
There is no way of knowing what special role Ovando played in the var-
ious activities of the Suprema. In general the record shows him to have
been a rather consistent though not outstanding participant. Six months
after his appointment to the Suprema Ovando was commissioned to
undertake a visita of the Council of the Indies. It is not surprising, then,
that he was absent for prolonged periods. Except for three meetings, he
was absent from 1 January to 10 April 1568.128 After that there were peri-
odic absences of varying lengths. His last recorded participation in a meet-
ing was 26 August 1571, shortly before he became president of the Coun-
cil of the Indies. The royal cédula to the archbishop of Mexico requiring a
survey of the archdiocese (23 January 1569) lists him as being a member of
the Suprema.129 In the list of councils and officeholders that Espinosa drew
up and that was edited by Mateo Vázquez in 1573, Ovando’s name does
not appear among the members of the Suprema.130
Cardinal Espinosa died on 5 September 1572. A commonly accepted
story is that Philip II rebuked Espinosa for lying to him, something that
almost literally killed him. However, there is no indication in the existing
documentation of a fall from favor before his death.131 He was buried in an
unfinished tomb in his native city. Cabrera de Córdoba saw in the cardi-
nal’s fall a lesson for all favorites: “In the end he fell from favor because he
did not walk behind his lord in glory, esteem, and the dispatch of business.
. . . The favorite should live more modestly, carefully, uprightly, circum-
spectly, warily, cautiously. Those on top are in the greater danger, and the
tree that has grown for many years falls in a second.132
After his death Espinosa was succeeded as Inquisitor General by Pedro
Ponce de León, bishop of Plasencia, who died in 1573 before the papal brief
of approbation could arrive. Philip II turned to Ovando, by then the pres-
ident of the Council of the Indies, for advice, and Ovando replied in a letter
96 JUAN DE OVANDO
of 9 February 1573.133 His strongest and most persistent recommendation

was that the post should not be given to a bishop, since the two positions
were incompatible. In a marginal note he stated his belief that Espinosa
should never have accepted the bishopric of Sigüenza because he was
unable to fulfill the law of residence, to the great detriment of the souls of
his people. He suggested that the office be united with that of the presi-
dent of the Council of Castile; this would eliminate the competition or
rivalry between the president and the Inquisitor General and also between
their councils. This would also give all the inquisitions the favor of royal
authority. He went on to demonstrate how this was not only theoretically
true but also true in practice by giving a brief history of the various Inqui-
sitors General.
Ovando’s letter hints that he was seeking the post of Inquisitor General.
An even clearer indication is given in a second draft of his response to the
king.134 He called on God to witness that what he was saying was entirely
disinterested. He had closely studied the affairs of the Indies, and he had
provided what had been necessary for them and seen that these things
were carried out. Matters were now so efficient that he had time to devote
to other aspects of the royal service, such as those of the Holy Office, in
which he had been trained and had experience. He was the senior inquisi-
tor in Spain after the archbishop of Tarragona (Cervantes de Gaete, who
had been inquisitor and provisor in Seville) and the bishops of Osma and
Cartagena. Anyone who came into these jobs anew would have to spend
many days learning about the individual inquisitions. Without failing in
his duties as president of the Council of the Indies, he could also serve as
Inquisitor General because he worked on the council only during the
mornings when they dealt with civil cases (causas civiles fiscales) and during
the afternoon when criminal caseswere heard. As he wrote, “[W]ith regard
to matters of administration, at which the Inquisitor General ought to be
present, I have [the afternoons] free and unoccupied with regard to the
Council of the Indies.”135 Ovando’s effort at self-promotion failed, as did
his attempt to prevent the appointment of a bishop. According to Cabrera
de Córdoba, Ovando was seriously considered for the post but was not
appointed because he was necessary to the other councils 136 The king
named the aged Gaspar de Quiroga, bishop of Cuenca, Inquisitor General.
A general look at the activities of the Suprema during Ovando’s term
is enlightening in several ways. The sheer amount of paperwork that the
inquisitors handled was staggering. Not only the cases but also the proce-
dures of the Inquisition generated extraordinary quantities of documents,
letters, and reports. Most of these dealt with questions of competence and
jurisdiction, an area about which Spaniards of that age were sensitive. The
Inquisition sought to extend its authority, while other agencies, such as
provincial governments or cathedral chapters, tried just as forcefully to
restrain it. The inquisitors were concerned with their own status, and there
was a strong emphasis on genealogies, and hence limpieza, in their work.
This, together with the overriding concerns about finances and centraliza-
tion, meant that their workload would be heavy. In Ovando’s case this is
all the more remarkable in view of the fact that from 1567 on he was con-
ducting a visita of the Council of the Indies.
Above all, the Inquisition under Espinosa was characterized by the clas-
sic letrado mentality so well represented by him and Ovando. There was
the usual concern for good record keeping, financial responsibility, the
rapid and unimpeded flow of information, and a rational and centralized
administration in which each section, from top to bottom, knew its func-
tion and carried it out. It was this mentality that Ovando would now bring
to bear on the Council of the Indies and the Council of Finance.
CHAPTER SIX
An Empire Threatened
“D
o not bind yourself to or become dependent upon any
individual, because although it may save time it does no
good.”1 Philip II followed his father’s advice: his govern-
ment was characterized by an obsessive distrust, often justified, of all sub-
ordinate officials. His policy has aptly been described as “confuse and
rule.” Because access to information meant access to power the king alone
had the total picture of any subject. Information was parceled out to lesser
officials in such a way as to enable them to give advice but not to gain com-
mand of a situation, something about which they often complained bit-
terly. This system functioned well as a form of checks and balances, but
it was not conducive to efficient government. In 1560 one of Philip II’s min-
isters complained, “His Majesty makes mistakes and will continue to make
mistakes in many matters because he discusses [matters] with different
people, sometimes with one, at other times with another, concealing some-
thing from one minister and revealing it to another. It is therefore small
wonder that different and even contradictory decisions are issued.”2 In
1573 Ovando made a similar complaint about the king’s lack of trust in
his ministers and warned him against seeking advice from people without
experience or knowledge, as happened with the New Laws of 1542.3
The governmental system of Castile during the reign of Philip II was
that of councils. Although the cabinet form of government, with ministers
responsible for specific areas and administering them below the king, was
making headway elsewhere in Europe, Philip clung to the system inherited
from his father. The councils were well suited to a system of “confuse and
AN EMPIRE THREATENED 99
rule,” allowing the king alone to have access to important information and
make final decisions. Its basic component was the consulta, an advisory
paper that a council submitted to the king for annotation, comments, and
final decision. Philip would scrawl his comments in his incredibly bad
handwriting, sometimes in the margin, sometimes between the lines.4 If
no immediate decision was forthcoming, a common occurrence in the reign
of that often indecisive monarch, the consulta might be returned to the
council for further consideration. This process was sometimes repeated so
often that the original problem would either have resolved itself or evolved
into a form entirely different from that originally presented. It is small
wonder that the volume of paperwork grew enormously during Philip’s
reign or that Spain led Europe in the development of national archives.
The nobles and letrados competed for positions on the councils. In gen-
eral, the former predominated on the Council of State, which was con-
cerned primarily with foreign policy. Letrados were heavily represented in
the Council of the Indies and the Council of Finance. Often members of one
council were transferred to another or belonged to more than one. Fre-
quently outsiders were given an entrada to a council for specific delibera-
tions, a practice that Ovando considered detrimental to sound deliberations
and tried to stop.
The councils, though purely advisory, were often quite influential. They
were not, however, the only source of advice. Philip had other means of
supplementing or second-guessing the counsel he received. One was to
consult privately with individual members of the various royal councils.
Another was the use of informal committees, or juntas, often composed of
members of various councils or individuals who were considered trust-
worthy and competent in specific fields.5 The Junta Magna of 1568, which
drew up the coordinated plan for the Indies, was one such ad hoc com-
mittee. In 1573, with a financial crisis looming, Philip established the Junta
of Presidents to advise him on financial matters. Later in his reign Philip
came to rely more on the juntas than on the councils.
Another means of securing advice and information was through advis-
ers who had no formal position in government. Typical was the way in
which the king used the archbishop of Mexico, Pedro Moya de Contreras,
as unofficial adviser on the Indies even before naming him president of the
Council of the Indies. During that time, Philip frequently turned over to
him consultas from the Council, usually in secret, for comment, review, and
100 JUAN DE OVANDO
approval.6 Long before Juan de Ovando became the president of the Coun-
cil of Finance, he played an informal but important role in its deliberations.
The role of unofficial adviser was also filled by private secretaries. The-
oretically, a secretary’s primary function was to free the king from routine
bureaucratic tasks and enable him to concentrate on the larger picture. They
arranged his papers, delivered consultas, dealt with petitioners, and acted
as liaison with the various councils and advisers. As the secretaries came
increasingly to control the flow of information to the king, their power
grew accordingly. Generally these men belonged to the letrado network
and owed their position and advancement primarily to the king, with
whom they often had a close relationship. This advancement was depend-
ent on a system of patronage. A secretary, council president, or powerful
noble would become the patron of a talented and rising young letrado,
guide him during his apprenticeship in the intricacies of administration
and factionalism, and eventually situate him in a position of influence. The
protégés in turn would become patrons to others.7 The result was that the
government of Philip II was based on a complex web of personal relation-
ships, mutual help, and interdependence. This network was not confined to
Castile. It was found at all levels of government in both the Old World and
the New. The bureaucracy was a combination of meritocracy and patronage.
A capable, trustworthy, and discreet secretary could come to exercise great
power, provided, of course, that he kept within the appropriate limits.8
Two secretaries stood out in the reign of Philip II, Antonio Pérez and
Mateo Vázquez de Leca. Pérez, the illegitimate son of Gonzalo Pérez, a
cleric of converso extraction who had also been the king’s secretary, went
beyond those limits by involving his monarch in a political assassination.
This led to his downfall and exile, in which Vázquez de Leca, his succes-
sor, played a major role. Vázquez de Leca had no hesitation about blatantly
advancing his own career, as when he offered himself to Espinosa in 1566
and to Philip II in 1573. He wrote to the king, “It does not seem that Your
Majesty has a personal secretary, with the result that there is a great deal of
unavoidable reading and writing; and from this employment and effort we
must fear the damage to health which we know occurs in most people
who deal with papers.”9 His self-promotion was rewarded when he was
appointed the king’s private secretary on 29 March 1573, with a starting
salary of 100,000 maravedís a year.10 His efficiency and dependability,
together with an instinctive ability to know his place, kept him in this
position until his death in 1591, a record number of years for a private
secretary.
Vázquez de Leca acted as liaison between Philip II, who lived at the
Escorial, and the various councillors and advisers, who lived and worked
in Madrid. Even for his ministers the king was a remote, daunting figure,
accessible primarily through his secretary. Consequently, Vázquez de Leca
was influential in the determination of the time and place of meetings, the
agenda, and who would or would not attend them. In his role as middle-
man he carried on a private correspondence with the various councillors
and committee members. He also recruited junior civil servants and fun-
neled precise information to his royal master. When the occasion demanded,
he could make sure that this information reflected his own views. He was
the only person in the kingdom whose access to information approximated
the king’s, so that by the time of his death he was de facto the second most
powerful man in the government.
So it was that despite the hindrances to the accumulation of power that
were inherent in the Habsburg governmental system, some letrados were
able to rise to positions of great authority. Espinosa, Ovando, Pérez, and
Vázquez de Leca were such. Espinosa died at the height of his power and
at a time when in the opinion of some he had overreached himself and was
falling out of favor.11 Pérez lost power because of political miscalculations.
Ovando was reaching the summit at the time of his death, and Vázquez de
Leca remained in power until his death.
It is now commonplace to observe that under Philip II the civil service
became Castilianized. Flemings and Italians no longer held high posi-
tions; those who worked most closely with Philip II were natives of the
peninsula. While their outlook was more restricted and peninsular, they
were able at the same time to dedicate themselves more exclusively to the
problems of Spain. There is no evidence that any of them, except Pérez,
ever traveled outside of Spain before or during their ascendancies or
spoke any modern language other than Castilian. All of these men came
from poor, disadvantaged, or even suspect backgrounds. Three of the four
were churchmen, a fact that may have convinced Philip II of their relia-
bility if not necessarily their disinterestedness. All royal servants, how-
ever, realized, or were made to realize, that there was only one source of
power in the Spanish empire.
102 JUAN DE OVANDO
AN EMPIRE UNDER THREAT

In the 1560s the empire ruled by Philip II was the largest and apparently
most powerful state in Europe. Its domain included the Low Countries
(modern Netherlands and Belgium), Milan (Lombardy), Naples, Sicily,
and the Indies, stretching from central Mexico to Tierra del Fuego and to
the Philippines in the Far East. After 1580, with the absorption of Portugal,
Philip would rule the entire Iberian Peninsula and the Portuguese empire
in Brazil and the Far East. As Geoffrey Parker has noted, Philip’s was the
first global empire in history, the first on which the sun truly never set.12 In
the preceding century “Spain” had been a geographic expression, a collec-
tion of independent states, at least one of which, Castile, was dynastically
unstable. The creation of the nation-state, which in reality was more of a
confederation (even in the sixteenth century “Spain” was often pluralized),
had taken little more than sixty or seventy years.
Ten years into Philip’s reign, however, this was an empire facing a real
or perceived threat of dissolution. On almost every side there were chal-
lenges to its stability and integrity. The Turks were on the offensive in the
Mediterranean. Together with Barbary pirates they raided European coasts
with relative impunity and turned the eastern part of the Mediterranean
into a Muslim lake. The Christian victory at Lepanto was still five years
away. There was also a Moorish threat within Spain: the Moriscos. Fifty
years of blundering Spanish policy, which included harassment, persecu-
tion, forcible conversion, and treaty violations, left the crown with an
embittered minority that had ethnic, cultural, and linguistic ties with the
foe in North Africa. In 1568 the Moriscos of the Alpujarras rebelled and
were not subdued for two years, offering to Europe the distressing specta-
cle of a king unable to control his own kingdom.13 In northern Europe
Protestantism continued to make gains. Unrest in the Netherlands would
soon lead to a general revolt. The border with France was viewed as a gate-
way for the onslaught of the reformed religion from the north. There was
a looming financial crisis in Castile, for which there seemed to be neither
remedy nor competent advisers.
The threat extended to the New World. In 1565 Pedro Menéndez de
Avilés turned back an incursion of French Huguenots in Florida with a sur-
prise attack and attendant massacre. In the Caribbean French and English
corsairs raided treasure ships and threatened Spain’s communications
with its New World possessions. Domestic instability added to the bleak
picture. In New Spain the so-called Avila-Cortés conspiracy (1566), a pre-
mature and muddled attempt at independence that was brutally sup-
pressed, was followed by the loose rule of the viceroy, the marqués de Fal-
ces (1566–68). Peru had but recently been pacified after a series of civil
wars and rebellions (1538–48). In 1567 the royal adviser Diego Briviesca de
Muñatones advised against allowing the citizens of Peru to undertake
further conquests or penetrations for fear that they would turn their arms
against the government.14 Castile depended on regular shipments of silver
from the New World in order to support the crown and finance its wars.
From the Escorial Castile’s grip on its overseas possessions did not look
secure.
This same period marked the beginning of a new and innovative era in
the history of Spanish administration of the Indies. In the upper reaches of
government there was a growing realization that the Indies needed strong
viceroys, consolidation of laws and institutions, and centralization. Matters
had gone beyond conquest and the first settlements, when policies and
administrative structures were a combination of improvisation and adap-
tations of peninsular models. Since the time of the first discoveries, the
crown had been groping toward a consistent and coherent policy for the
Indies. By midcentury there was a growing concern about the rise of creole
(criollo) consciousness, the emerging self-awareness of those Spaniards
born in the New World. In 1564 the licenciado García de Castro gave Philip
II a graphic description of the instability of Peru. One reason, he said, was
the increasing number of creoles: “An armed force is necessary for their
peace and security, all the more so in those lands, and even more now that
the number of those who have been and are born in this land and who
have never known Your Majesty or have any expectation of knowing you
has grown and goes on growing by the hour.”15
Even more disturbing was the attitude taken by some religious. Accord-
ing to the comisarios who had been sent to Peru in 1561 to negotiate per-
petuity of the royal land grant (encomienda), the friars believed that they
were called to construct a new Christendom in the Indies “in the fullness
of time.” This meant that the supervision of the indigenous people should
be reserved entirely to them, and they saw themselves as their only lords.16
If their position was not recognized, the comisarios claimed, the religious
were threatening to withdraw from the mission field and send no more
104 JUAN DE OVANDO
friars to the New World. It was also asserted that the religious wanted to
put the government of the natives directly under the pope with themselves
as his representatives.
THE ATTACK OF THE HUMANITARIANS

Spain’s rule of the New World was threatened on still another front—that
of the humanitarians and pro-Indianists. If unruly elements in Peru and
New Spain wanted to separate those kingdoms from Spain, there were
radical pro-Indianists who believed that the conquest had been immoral
from the beginning and consequently Spain was obliged to withdraw from
the Indies and return them to their rightful sovereigns. In 1566 Bartolomé
de las Casas, at that time on the eve of his death, asked the Council of the
Indies to convene a junta of theologians similar to that at Valladolid in
1550–51 to decide the question of Spain’s title to the Indies and to find
means to end their destruction.17 He died, however, on 20 July, before his
petition could be submitted to the Council. It was later presented by Her-
nando de Barrionuevo, the Franciscan commissary at court; the Augustinian
Alonso de la Veracruz, a devoted follower of Las Casas; and the Franciscan
Alonso Maldonado de Buendía. Maldonado submitted a memorial of his
own, also requesting the convocation of a junta.18
Maldonado was one of the most biting critics of Spanish rule in the New
World and also one of the least known to modern historians.19 Though the
principal facts of his life are clear, it is difficult to date them with certainty.
He was born early in the sixteenth century, but the date and place are
unknown. He was probably of converso lineage on his mother’s side. At
an unknown date he entered the Franciscan order, probably at Salamanca.
Despite his own claim to have lived and worked in New Spain for twelve
years, he was there for certain only from 1551 to 1561. Little is known about
his work there, though he always enjoyed a reputation for being a devoted
and zealous missionary.
Around September 1561 Maldonado returned to Spain. His purpose
was to present to Philip II the grave abuses and exploitation of the Indians
in New Spain, probably in the name of the Franciscans of his province. In
the subsequent nine years he made six visits to Madrid to present his case
to the Council of the Indies and the papal nuncio in Spain.20 At the order of
the Franciscan minister, or superior, general, he sent a memorial to the king
in 1565 concerning better treatment for the Indians and the safeguarding of
the Franciscans in the New World.21 He claimed that the Spaniards in New
Spain were undoing the work of the friars and were thus endangering the
peace and security of the land: “I implore your majesty by the sacred bap-
tism with which you were dedicated to God to understand that there is not
nor has been a matter more serious than this nor more worthy of a general
council and that there has been no cause greater or more universal or more
difficult, one that is most worthy that the entire Church of God should
come together to decide it.”22
At an unknown date, but probably in July 1566, a summary of Las
Casas’s petition and the ideas advocated by Maldonado and Barrionuevo
was drawn up for use by the Council of the Indies. Las Casas’s ideas, com-
ing at the end of his long crusade on behalf of the natives, were increas-
ingly radical. For example: “All the wars that they called conquests were
and are most unjust and by nature tyrannical. All the kingdoms in the
Indies we hold by usurpation. All the encomiendas or repartimientos are
most wicked and intrinsically evil and thus tyrannical, and such a govern-
ment is tyrannical. All those who give them commit mortal sin, and those
who hold them are always in a state of mortal sin, and if they do not give
them up they cannot be saved.”23 And he made an even stronger statement
whose impact can only be imagined: “The native peoples of any and all
whose parts we have entered in the Indies have an acquired right to make
a most just war on us and to erase us from the face of the earth, and this
right will last until the day of judgment.”24
Barrionuevo contented himself with a statement urging justice for the
religious in the Indies. The summary of Maldonado’s opinions, longer than
that of Las Casas, was even more radical and more threatening. Unlike Las
Casas, Maldonado threw the challenge directly at the king. He repeated
many of Las Casas’s ideas, such as the immorality of the conquests, but
went further in specifying what had to be done: “His Majesty is obliged to
restore all the lands and fields that by His Majesty’s authority have been
taken from the Indians, and each Spaniard is obliged in the same way to
restore what he has taken.”25 Royal government, as then exercised in the
Indies, was likewise against all natural and divine law because the laws
were not carried out and transgressors were not punished. Maldonado
was equally condemnatory of the church and the way in which the Chris-
tianization of the natives had proceeded: “The way that has been used to
106 JUAN DE OVANDO
promulgate the gospel is against the entire gospel and natural law, the
same as robbery, adultery, and committing greater evils than has ever been
done.”26 Bishops and archbishops who failed to learn the native languages
committed mortal sin, and clerics and religious who brought with them
anything more than their food and clothing were causing scandal and
adulterating the law of God. The Council of the Indies did not fulfill its
responsibilities because it was far from the New World and failed to learn
the situation there. His final judgment on the Council was quite literally
damning: “The business of the Indies is to preach the gospel, establish
churches, explain scripture, and determine what can be done with a sound
conscience. It is a worthy business and entirely ecclesiastical. His Majesty
does not discharge his conscience with the Council [of the Indies] because
they are laymen and jurists. They are charged with an office that is not
theirs, and they do not attempt to know the truth at its root in order to
advise his majesty. They are in a state of eternal condemnation.”27
Maldonado was remarkably, or recklessly, explicit about the king’s obli-
gations: “For if Your Highness does not do what is in him according to
God’s law in order to make clear these truths and to declare them publicly,
and make known what can be preached about them and absolved [in the
confessional], and thus put an end to so many evils, Your Highness cannot
be saved nor any of his ministers. And Your Highness and these kingdoms
of his will feel the most weighty hand of God without there being any
doubt.”28
Juan Vázquez de Arce, senior member of the Council of the Indies,
defended the king against these attacks.29 He recalled how Las Casas had
provoked the Valladolid dispute of 1551: “About twenty years ago a friar
who was the bishop of Chiapas came from there to this kingdom, claiming
that in the said conquests there had been great excess. . . . At his insistence
our lord, the emperor [Charles V], ordered the members of this council [of
the Indies] to meet with persons of learning and conscience who had dif-
fering opinions.”30 Because of this Charles V gave orders on future con-
quests that were still being followed. But, he wrote,
a few months ago, without news of any excess or any other reason,
the said bishop and a certain fray Alonso Maldonado have returned
to publish throughout this court that everything conquered and taken
from the Indies was unjust and with an obligation to restitution, and
of this and other similar matters they have given to His Majesty many
rash conclusions, asking with great confidence another meeting to
determine it . . . which His Majesty did not approve, and with this
the council sent to the king a long letter which in one of its chapters
said that the said discoveries were to cease until the order that should
be observed in them was given.31
Maldonado’s propositions were submitted for evaluation to fray Diego

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

end his life.36
Nothing further is known about Maldonado’s brush with the Inquisi-
tion, but in 1568 he was able to give to Giovanni Battista Castagna, papal
nuncio in Madrid, a book he had written, Defensa de los pequeñuelos evangéli-
cos (Defense of the Little Ones of the Gospel), for forwarding to the pope.
In 1570 he submitted a memorial to the Council of the Indies, though it was
really intended for the king.37 During the same year, he was in Rome at the
invitation of Pope Pius V, to whom he submitted his book and a petition,
which was almost identical to one submitted by Las Casas to the pope in
1566.38 The following year, he submitted another memorial.39
Maldonado was not the only one concerned with Spanish policies in the
Indies, nor was this concern confined to a small number of radical agita-
tors. He now received powerful support for the proposed junta. In 1566
Cardinal Espinosa asked Luis Sánchez, a cleric who had spent eighteen
years in the Indies, to write a comprehensive report on the situation in the
New World. On 26 August 1566 Sánchez submitted his report, a condem-
nation as sweeping as any made by Las Casas or Maldonado.40 He began
by saying that the entire question of the Indies could be reduced to one
point, “and it is in favoring the bodies and souls of the Indians or destroy-
ing them and putting an end to them, as today has been and is being
done.”41 He described, in terms reminiscent of Las Casas, how vast areas of
New Spain had been depopulated. But, he said, “I am not speaking of
Mexico City, because there, I understand, there has always been a little bit
of justice and favor for the Indians.”42 “I have seen, with these eyes, things
and cruelties never seen before, which no Christian could bear to hear,
especially Your Excellency.”43 The root of all problems was the “insatiable
greed” of the Spaniards, a factor that also contributed to civil war in Peru.
“All of us who go to the Indies go with the intention of returning to Spain
very rich, which is possible . . . only at the cost of the sweat and blood of
the Indians.”44 Wars and slavery had caused this destruction in the past,
and in the present it was the forced labor system, the repartimiento, that was
destroying New Spain.45 The Indians were also destroyed by being forcibly
removed from their native areas, “and so it is said that the Indian is like a
fish: take it out of the water and it dies.”46 His report was very much in the
spirit of Las Casas—he repeatedly used the term “destruction”—and he
spoke approvingly of Las Casas’s work. He placed responsibility for the
many abuses that still remained eighty years after the first discoveries on
the fact that no one in Spain really understood the Indies. He saw two rea-
sons for this ignorance. The first was that the new lands were so distant
from Spain and so vast. The other was the false and misleading informa-
tion received at court from interested parties who had a stake in maintain-
ing the status quo. The remedy had to come soon. “I think,” he wrote, “that
nothing will be left if it is not remedied.”47 As for the persons responsible,
Sánchez blamed all judges, whether lay or ecclesiastic, who had failed to
secure justice for the natives, the secular clergy and friars who sought
riches, and the conquistadors and encomenderos (grant holders). The imme-
diate remedy that Sánchez, like Maldonado, proposed was the convoca-
tion of “a great junta such as is appropriate for such an important business,
in which His Majesty and Your Excellency [Espinosa] and the Council of
the Indies itself and other great theologians should be present, all acting as
judges.”48 They should, he said, summon good religious and other persons
of virtue and experience in the Indies in order to search out the truth. If it
was not done, “we will always be groping.”49
THE INTRACTABLE PROBLEM:

THE PERPETUITY OF THE ENCOMIENDA
At the center of much of the turmoil over the Indies was the question of the
encomienda. A peninsular institution that was transplanted to the New
World in the earliest years of discovery, it was a means of rewarding the
conquistadors and settlers by allowing them to collect tribute and labor
from the natives from assigned villages. At the same time the encomen-
deros formed a militia in times of civil disturbance and supported the
Christianization of the Indians. The encomienda was not feudal—for
example, the encomenderos could not live in the territory of their encomi-
endas and had no civil or criminal jurisdiction over the natives—but it was
similar enough to make the crown uneasy. It was also subject to appalling
abuses that aroused the ire of humanitarians and pro-Indianists such as
Las Casas.
In 1542 the crown enacted the New Laws, which outlawed all future
encomiendas and decreed that on the death of the present encomenderos
the existing ones would revert to the crown.50 The result was a revolt in
Peru and the suspension of the laws in New Spain because of local unrest.
110 JUAN DE OVANDO
Eventually the more stringent of the laws were rescinded. For the rest of
the century, however, there was heated debate over the question of perpe-
tuity, that is, whether encomiendas could be bequeathed from one genera-
tion to another without restriction. Perpetuity was not a free grant from the
crown; the encomenderos had to purchase it. For a financially strapped
monarchy that was a great temptation. The Council of the Indies, however,
was set in its opposition to any grants of perpetuity.51 The question had
been argued for decades and seemed in danger of being talked to death.
Royal policy had generally opposed the encomienda, but it also vacillated
in practice. There were financial advantages to the sale of perpetuity, but
the religious consequences and the outcries of the pro-Indian school made
Philip II more cautious than usual. Eventually the encomienda became
marginal because it benefited only a minority and was out of step with an
increasingly mercantile society.
The encomenderos in the Indies, especially in Peru, lobbied incessantly
not only for the preservation of the system but also for its expansion. Cen-
tral to their plans was the hope that the crown would grant them civil and
criminal jurisdiction over the Indians. In 1554 the encomenderos of Peru
offered the crown 4 million ducados for such a concession.52 Such a grant,
however, would have created a hereditary colonial aristocracy and intruded
a new legal apparatus into that established by the crown. The growth of
criollo feeling and self-awareness also made the crown reluctant to grant any
further power to a local elite.
In 1559 the king sent to Peru three commissaries, Ortega de Melgosa,
Diego de Vargas Carvajal, and Diego Briviesca de Muñatones (who also
conducted a visita of the audiencia of Lima and a residencia of the viceroy).
They were soon joined by the new viceroy, the count of Nieva, to investi-
gate the possibility of selling perpetuity. The encomenderos were a minor-
ity, 480 out of a population of 8,000, whereas there was a solid bloc of
caciques, clergy, and humanitarians who wanted the encomiendas to revert
to the crown and were willing to pay for it. The comisarios and Nieva
wanted to come up with a compromise proposal that would guarantee as
much money as possible for the crown and still preserve the peace. They
proposed that one-third of the encomiendas would be sold in perpetuity
and would include civil and criminal jurisdiction in the second instance;
one-third would be incorporated to the crown after two lifetimes and after
a payment by the caciques; and one-third would be incorporated to the
crown after two lifetimes and then granted for another lifetime without
jurisdiction to those who had performed services for the crown. The grant
of jurisdiction was the most important concession. Jurisdiction in the first
instance would belong to Indian officials after they had been gathered
together in larger urban units. These local alcaldes would have the power
then held by the caciques.
Vargas Carvajal died in July 1562, and the other two commissaries left
for Spain toward the end of that year.53 The work of the commissaries and
viceroy was undone by revelations of their extravagant corruption, proof
of which reached Spain before they did. Ortega de Melgosa was banned
from holding public office for six years and Briviesca de Muñatones was
sentenced to a prison term.54 He must have returned to favor, however,
because in 1567 he was a witness in the visita of the Council of the Indies
and served on the Junta Magna the following year.
ROME AND THE INDIES

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

newly appointed viceroys in Peru and New Spain.59
It is not clear from whom they received their information, though there
were friars in Rome who had spent time in the Indies, including fray Juan
Aguilera, a Franciscan who was held in high regard in Rome, and a retired
bishop of Cuzco, probably the Dominican Juan Solano. Both were defend-
ers of Spain’s right to rule the Indies. It is difficult to say what role was
played by Las Casas’s 1566 memorial to the pope or by Maldonado. The
latter, however, was not in Rome during the commission’s deliberations,
though he had sent his book and a memorial to the pope. Even so, the
crown feared his influence. In 1568 Zúñiga wrote to Philip II of his fear that
if Maldonado arrived in Rome, it could cause problems with the pontifical
commission.60 On the whole, however, the humanitarians appear not to
have had a strong influence on the commission.
The cardinals completed their work in approximately three weeks and
formulated their conclusions toward the end of August 1568.61 They drew
up briefs that were sent by the pope to Philip II, Espinosa, Ovando, Fran-
cisco de Toledo, the Council of the Indies, Martín Enríquez, and Pedro
Menéndez de Avilés, adelantado of Florida.62 The last two documents have
not been located. The briefs seem to have gone through two redactions, as
the members of the commission were concerned that they might prove
offensive to Philip II. On 20 November the papal nuncio in Madrid was
able to reassure Rome that the king had not taken offense and that Toledo
was so pleased that he intended to write his thanks to the pope. Similarly,
the Council of the Indies expressed its satisfaction and its intention to write
to the pope. It did so on 29 December.
There was also an instruction on the good treatment and Christianiza-
tion of the Indians, which was drawn up at the same time as the briefs.63
Rome was so concerned about Philip II’s reaction to the instruction that
Castagna was given latitude to change it as he saw fit.64 The nuncio’s con-
tact with the king was delayed by the death of the twenty-two-year-old
queen, Elizabeth of Valois, on 3 October 1568. Toward the end of Novem-
ber, however, the nuncio was able to give the king an oral summary of the
instruction together with a copy in Italian. He gave copies in Spanish to
Toledo. Since Martín Enríquez and Menéndez de Avilés had already left,
he planned to send them copies. Philip II turned the document over to Car-
dinal Espinosa so that it could be studied in the Junta Magna. Ultimately
the king sent the pope a polite but firm rejection of any papal interference
in the Indies. Rome made no further insistence on the matter.
What did the instruction say? The original Italian began with a state-
ment of the pope’s desire for the conversion and Christianization of the
natives, to which Nuncio Castagna added a paragraph of fulsome praise
for Philip II’s zeal for the same cause. Similarly, the nuncio added a state-
ment of thanks and praise concerning the choices of the viceroys of Peru
and New Spain and the governor [sic] of Florida. The pope expressed his
hope that they would live up to Christian ideals. There was also a pointed
reminder that the conversion of the natives was “the end for which the
conquest of those kingdoms was granted to the kings of Spain because of
which there is a duty to provide preachers and priests who know how to
preach the gospel and instruct them in our holy Catholic faith.”65 They
should be persons whose lives gave “clear testimony” to the Christian reli-
gion. The encomenderos in those lands were obliged to support the mis-
sionaries and pay for their sustenance out of the tributes they received.
There should also be sufficient instruction before baptism, and children
should be provided with teachers “who should not destroy with their
example what they seek to build with words.”66 For this purpose the pope
supported the policy of congregación, whereby Indians who lived nomadi-
cally or in small scattered settlements were brought together in larger pop-
ulation centers. He also endorsed the destruction of native temples as a
means of preventing recidivism. Older converts should give good example
to newer ones, and if they gave scandal, they should be publicly punished.
They should be taught to lead a life of temperance, so celebrations and
gatherings that led to carousing should be stopped. At this point the nuncio
added a sentence, “It will also be necessary to see to it that the unbelieving
Indians be constrained to observe the natural law and be taught to avoid the
unmentionable vices [sodomy and incest] which corrupted and defiled a
community. The law of matrimony should be introduced among them so
that one woman may not have many husbands.”67
There was a strong statement that Indians were not to be used as house-
hold slaves but could serve voluntarily provided they were paid a just
wage. They should not be burdened with excessive tributes. Every effort
should be made to prevent the bad example of Spaniards or older converts
from hindering the process of Christianization. Finally, no war should be
waged against the Indians that was not assuredly just.
114 JUAN DE OVANDO
The instruction was a rather strange document that probably reflected

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

So it was that by the mid-1560s, in addition to growing tensions in
Flanders and financial problems at home, the government of Castile was
beset by colonial problems on several fronts: separatism and unrest in the
New World, the question of the encomienda, the continuing radical agita-
tion by pro-Indianists, and corruption and incompetence in the Council of
the Indies. Some voices warned that Spain was in danger of losing the
Indies. Others said that it deserved to do so.
The crown’s reaction, conceived and guided by Espinosa and Ovando,
was unusually rapid, bringing the full weight of the letrado mentality to
bear on royal policy on Castile’s overseas possessions. The change began
in 1567 when Ovando was appointed to carry out a visita of the Council of
the Indies. This led to the reform of the Council itself, giving it a new and
comprehensive set of laws (ordenanzas). Out of the visita came the move,
spearheaded by Ovando, to organize and codify the laws of the Indies, a
project that would not be completed for another century. In 1568 Philip II
established the Junta de Indias, or Junta Magna, to address the more
pressing questions of colonial policy, a junta for which Ovando prepared
the agenda and suggested some of the membership. In the same year the
crown appointed two of its most effective viceroys, Francisco de Toledo for
Peru and Martín Enríquez de Almansa for New Spain.70 In 1571 Ovando
was named president of the Council of the Indies, but even before that he
had undertaken another major project, collecting and organizing informa-
tion on the Indies, the antecedent of the famed Relaciones geográficas. Rarely
in the era of the Habsburgs did the royal government, often so lethargic
and dilatory, respond with such alacrity to a crisis. It was not, however, just
a matter of haste. The goal was a comprehensive, effective, and fully imple-
mented policy. Ovando died before his grand design could be completed,
but his accomplishments make him one of the most important figures in
the history of Spain’s overseas possessions.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Visita of the

Council of the Indies
T
he crown’s sweeping investigation of the Council of the Indies and
its members was carried out by means of a time-honored Castilian
institution, the visita, an exhaustive inquiry by a competent and
trustworthy individual who had the confidence of the king. That person
was Juan de Ovando, who was appointed visitador in 1567.1 Beyond doubt
both Espinosa and Ovando influenced the king in the decision to conduct
the visita, and Espinosa was responsible for the choice of Ovando. As his
assistants Ovando chose Juan de Ledesma and Juan López de Velasco,
later the first cosmógrafo-cronista (cosmographer-chronicler) of the Indies.
Ledesma appears to have been the secretary for the visita itself, whereas
López de Velasco handled the collection of information and the codifica-
tion of laws. Ledesma later served as one of the executors of Ovando’s will.
The visita lasted from 7 June 1567 to 12 August 1571.2 The testimonies
were taken from July 1567 to December 1568, with the majority being
recorded in August 1567. At the beginning of the visita the president of
the Council of the Indies was Francisco Tello de Sandoval, who was
named bishop of Osma in August 1567.3 On 21 May 1568 he was suc-
ceeded by Luis Méndez de Quijada, who was effectively president for
only eleven months before he left to join the war against the Moriscos in
the Alpujarras.4 He died of wounds received at the battle of Caniles on 25
February 1570.
Ovando’s visita did not suspend the work of the Council, which con-
tinued to function as it previously had. The departure of Méndez de Qui-
jada for the Morisco war probably gave him a freer hand. This must have
THE VISITA OF THE COUNCIL OF THE INDIES 117
put the councillors in a rather difficult position, since Ovando was effec-
tively acting as both president and visitador.5 Strong evidence for his par-
ticipation is lacking, however, not surprising in view of the secrecy of the
visita. Ovando’s visita went far beyond the conduct and functioning of the
council. In a wide-ranging investigation he gathered information on the
conduct of the local government of the Indies, trade and commerce, the
church and its missionary work, abuse of power by local officials and
caciques, and the status of the Indians. He and his aides drew up a ques-
tionnaire for witnesses, comprising forty-six questions.6 Instead of fol-
lowing the questionnaire, however, most witnesses submitted memorials,
reports, and recommendations. As was customary in visitas, the witnesses
were interrogated in total secrecy. Among the papers in the British Library
there are thirty-one distinct testimonies, covering an astounding 351 folios,
and these were only part of the responses received.7 The testimony of
Briviesca de Muñatones filled 34 densely written folios, and that of another
witness, Cristóbal Ramírez de Cartagena, fiscal of the audiencia of Quito,
covered 108 folios.8 All these documents were read by Ovando or his aides,
and a capsule summary of each paragraph was written in the margins.
Most of the witnesses were either still in the Indies or had had experience
there. In view of the troubled state of Peru, most of the responses dealt
with that turbulent colony rather than New Spain. These were often con-
cerned more with the local economy and local government—audiencias,
governors, and viceroys—than with the Council of the Indies. As often
happened in visitas, some responses were complaints by individuals about
injustices that they had endured and pleas for rectification, payment for back
salaries and royal grants or boons (mercedes), and other personal business.
A pervasive, underlying theme not only of the visita reports, but of all
governmental deliberations at this time was the fear of separatist tenden-
cies, or even revolt, in the Indies, especially Peru. In a detailed analysis Briv-
iesca de Muñatones proposed a twofold solution: increase Peru’s depend-
ence on the mother country and reorganizing the local government.9 He
viewed Peru as a controlled market for goods from Spain and recom-
mended that the local production of certain products, such as wine and
olives, be forbidden. He recommended retaining an audiencia in Ecuador
as an effective check on rebellions. He also wanted to prohibit the oidores
(audiencia judges) from marrying within the jurisdiction because it
involved them with the local elite and created conflicts of interest, as did
118 JUAN DE OVANDO
their marrying their children to local rich people. Regarding these mar-
riage alliances, the Franciscan Francisco de Morales made a similar obser-
vation: “It has been ordered that it not be done, and it is not observed; the
difficulty with which the Indian is to achieve justice from the oidor who is
the brother-in-law of the encomendero is clear.”10
The only testimony that dealt exclusively with New Spain was that of
the priest Cristóbal Ayala de Espinosa.11 He was a creole who was sus-
pected of involvement in the Avila-Cortés conspiracy and who seems to
have had a strong identification with the Indians. He was also a member
of the cathedral chapter and administrator of the royal Indian hospital. It
was rumored that he left the hospital disguised as an Indian in order to
make his nightly assignations with women of various classes. He claimed
to have baptized 2,000 adults and 12,000 children and to have preached to
the Indians for ten years in their own language. His testimony covered almost
every aspect of life in New Spain.12 The large number of idle Spaniards was
a danger, he said, as were the Indians, who grew increasingly insolent.
They were learning “something other than virtue, dealing with mestizos,
children of Spaniards and Indian women, and with mulattos, sons of blacks
and Indian women, who [were] commit[ting] considerable violence and
vexations against the Indians.”13
One reason for the unrest among the citizens and encomenderos of New
Spain, he said, was the royal provision that encomiendas not extend beyond
a second life. The encomenderos were still hoping for perpetuity. He rec-
ommended that all encomiendas become royal ones. This would increase
income and would also lead to better treatment for the Indians. As for the
conquistadors, the crown should grant them perpetual pensions and long-
term bonds, and they would be satisfied with a half or third of what they
now had. He also believed that education would be a stabilizing factor. He
urged the king to give financial support to the University of Mexico, which
had only four chairs and needed fifteen.
In contrast to another witness, Salazar de Villasante, who recommended
the abandonment of the viceregal system of government (see below), Fran-
cisco de Morales believed that viceroys were the best means for assuring
peace and stability.14 A viceroy should stay in the Indies until he died,
because “[o]ne of the great harms that the Indies suffer is the newness of
government which in such new lands is a great difficulty.”15
THE COUNCIL OF THE INDIES AND OTHER OFFICIALS

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

cient number of meetings.22 One witness, Salazar de Villasante, had spent
eight months in Madrid with two residencias (investigations of office-
holders at the end of their terms) that he had taken in the Indies, and nei-
ther was seen by the council. He also accused Tello de Sandoval of
removing and appointing oidores of the colonial audiencias at whim. In
addition, the members of the council removed capable oidores and sent
others “of little experience and learning solely as a favor and because
they were relatives.”23 According to Salazar de Villasante, when Vázquez
de Arce, the senior councillor, became acting president, there was an
immediate improvement: “In the short time Doctor Vázquez has been
president, he has expedited more business than the said Tello de San-
doval did in a year.”24 Another witness, Bartolomé Vázquez, related the
problems he had with Tello de Sandoval in seeking repayment of a claim
he had against the crown for past services. Everyone, he said, believed
that Vázquez de Arce should be named president of the council.25 A sim-
ilar opinion was voiced by Barrionuevo de Peralta, Although this was
not unbiased testimony: he was a close friend and associate of the acting
president.26
Despite the praise that he received, Vázquez de Arce did not escape
denunciation, and his case may be considered typical of the council’s prob-
lems. The most extensive charge against him concerned his efforts to help
his brother, Melchor Vázquez Dávila, when the audiencia of Lima removed
the latter’s Indians from his control. The senior councillor sent a letter as
well as a royal cédula to the audiencia that deprived it of authority to
remove Indians from encomiendas.27 The oidores were angered by the lim-
itation of their authority, as well as because the cédula contradicted a pre-
vious royal order, and they believed it had been obtained by Vázquez de
Arce solely to protect his brother’s interests.28 It was rumored that Vázquez
de Arce gambled a great deal, and he was accused of being partial to the
affairs of the marqués de Cañete because he was a relative of Cañete’s
wife.29 It was said that anyone seeking a favorable decision from the coun-
cil had go through Vázquez de Arce’s wife or his friends or clients. Among
the latter was Barrionuevo de Peralta. He solicited bribes under the guise
of a “deposit” to be returned if a favorable outcome did not come about,
but in fact the money was never returned.30
LOCAL GOVERNMENT IN THE INDIES

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

cials in Peru, especially those who served in the audiencia of Lima. He
denounced the fiscal, licenciado Juan Bautista Monzón, “a man of little
education and a man of little authority and seriousness, given to jokes and
frivolities” and as “a man of bad conscience . . . who does not fulfill his
office as he ought.” And, as a final blow, he said that although he is not
certain, he believed Bautista Monzón “is not of pure lineage.”37 In Lima,
the most fault was found with Hernando Santillán, oidor from 1548 to
1563. He and fray Domingo, bishop of Cuzco, without consulting the
encomenderos or making any investigation, ordered that the tribute paid
by the Indians in the encomiendas should be assessed by population rather
than previous totals.38 Because of the decline in native population, this
reduced the tribute by one-third or even one-half.39 When Salazar de Vil-
lasante was an oidor of the audiencia the oidores were paid in silver rather
than gold by order of Briviesca de Muñatones during his visita. Even when
the king approved this order, Santillán continued to collect his in gold and
ordered that all oidores be paid in the same specie. The treasurer refused,
citing the royal provision, but Santillán pressured him into doing so. Even-
tually an arrangement was worked out that added 800 pesos to Santillán’s
annual salary of 4,000 pesos.40
The testimony of the licenciado Alférez shed light on the prejudices of
the times.41 When Alférez sought an appointment in the administration of
New Spain or Peru, there was a long delay. Someone suggested that he
approach Juan Cano, a cleric and subordinate of Tello de Sandoval and a
favorite of his. Alférez did so, and Cano answered in terms that suggested
a bribe. Alférez did not have the money. He was an Old Christian and
hidalgo, with more than twenty-five years of administrative experience,
and was insulted that he did not receive a position. What really dismayed
him was that so many positions were going to conversos. He concluded
piously, “May God in his mercy grant that we Old Christians be consid-
ered as such because it strengthens us to die serving our faith and our lord
the king.”42
A Doctor Cáceres, probably a relative of Ovando’s and also in Española,
made a number of suggestions concerning the good government of the
Indies. In all probability this was Doctor Alonso de Cáceres de Ovando,
who was an oidor of Santo Domingo from 1559 to 1572. After certain accu-
sations, he was suspended but then became an oidor of Panama, where he
died in 1580.43 These suggestions clearly reflected some of the fundamen-

tal problems in Philip II’s mode of governance. Cáceres stressed the impor-
tance of the audiencias and oidores and the need for audiencia presidents
to have previous experience as oidores. Letters from the audiencias to the
king should be answered immediately, for sometimes years went by with-
out a response because the royal councils were involved in so much other
business. There should be more control over friars who served as visita-
dores or commissaries, as they sometimes abused their power. Finally, he
said, the island of Española had not had a bishop for sixteen years.44
Though the accusations against officials went on and on, ultimately very
little action would be taken. There were so many accusations and denuncia-
tions that the requisite investigations would have taken years. Ovando, for
his part, was more interested in structural reform than criminal punishment.
TRADE AND COMMERCE

Briviesca de Muñatones advocated a mercantilist policy that would restrict
local production as a means of binding the colonies more closely to the
mother country. As a result of his experience in the visita of the audiencia
of Lima, he believed that the administration of the royal hacienda should
be separated from the audiencia.45 As for the silver and mercury mines,
there had been great deficiency both in searching for and working them.46
Officials of the audiencias were busy with their offices and were not expert
in matters concerning the mines. The same was true of other industries,
such as cochineal, alum, cinnamon, and cacao.47
Briviesca de Muñatones also gave advice on the Spanish convoys
(flotas).48 He had heard that ships went independently of the flotas as a
means of avoiding the import-export duties (almojarifazgos). He had seen
two such cases in Sanlúcar de Barrameda in 1559. It was rumored that the
Casa de Contratación had granted license for the practice, and there were
complaints about the blatant favoritism.49
In his discussion of the reforms needed in New Spain, Ayala de Espinosa
went into great detail about the money lost to the crown through failure to
collect the almojarifazgos.50 Each year large quantities of clothing were
shipped to the port of Acajutla in Guatemala from various parts of New
Spain for purchase by the Indians. The cargoes included blankets, coarse
materials, headpieces, Indian mantles, breechclouts (maxtiles), petticoats,
124 JUAN DE OVANDO
gourds, copal, amber, silks, taffeta, wine, and fruit preserves. Each cargo
was worth about 12,000 pesos, from which the king supposedly received at
least 10 percent in duties. On the return voyage the ships were full of cacao,
“which is the money that is used in those parts, and from it the natives make
a certain kind of drink which is a great sustenance and the Spanish people
also use it.”51 Guatemala was then at the height of its cacao boom. According
to Ayala de Espinosa, 30,000 loads of cacao were sent each year, each worth
20 pesos; in Mexico its worth was 30 pesos. The whole was valued at
600,000 pesos. If the almojarifazgos were collected at 10 percent as required,
the king would get 60,000 pesos at the end of each voyage. From Yucatan
and the ports of Campeche and the area of Tabasco, each year by land and
sea came more than 40,000 mantles; at the port of origin they were valued
at 3 pesos, in Mexico City the value rose to 4 pesos, and in Chiapas and
Guatemala to 5 pesos. The almojarifazgos would be worth 12,000 pesos.
From Yucatan each year came 10,000 quintals of wax, 4,000 arrobas of
honey, blouses, shawls, cotton thread, and brazilwood, which was used as
a source of dye. Ayala de Espinosa estimated the almojarifazgos at 20,000
pesos a year. There was also extensive commerce in livestock—mules, sheep,
goats, and cattle—and in wool, which textile mills in Mexico turned into
clothing. He estimated that if collected at customshouses the tolls would
bring in 20,000 pesos. The provinces of New Spain and the Mixteca alta y
baja produced more than 15,000 pounds of silk a year, from which the cus-
tomshouses could collect 7,000 pesos a year. In Mexico City large quanti-
ties of dried fish were imported from the coastal regions, whose almojari-
fazgos were worth 8,000 pesos. In the marquesado a dye and powder called
añil (indigo) was produced that could be exported to Castile, which at that
time depended on the Turks for it. In New Spain the royal share (quinto) on
proceeds from lead, copper, and alum was not collected. Ayala de Espinosa\
estimated it would be more than 10,000 pesos de minas (see Appendix). In
summary, the crown was losing enormous sums in uncollected duties.
Another important question was the cultivation of coca in Peru.52 A
certain Vaca de Castro emphasized the harmful effects on the Indians of
having to go from a cold to a hot climate to cultivate the crop.53 However,
coca production was the principal business in Peru, and banning it would
not only cause serious harm to the royal treasury but would also run the
risk of rebellion. There was agreement that the current situation needed
reform. The coca producers should be made to live up to their contracts
with the Indians, specifying wages, workloads, and time spent away from
home. In their turn the Indians were so desirous of both the leaves and
their money that they would stay on after their contracts expired to sign
new ones.
THE CHURCH
The reports and memorials that dealt with the Catholic Church covered
questions of organization, the patronato real, difficulties with the mission-
ary religious orders, and the religious instruction of the Indians, especially in
the encomiendas. Briviesca de Muñatones recommended that the patronato
be more effectively implemented in the New World as a way to guarantee
high-quality clergy. At the time there were not enough positions for diocesan
clergy, and the encomenderos had to use religious.54 The encomenderos
had become accustomed to naming the priest who said mass in parishes
composed of recently converted Indians (doctrinas), but the king had turned
this power over to the local bishop. Briviesca de Muñatones considered it
essential for the good of Peru that the king should make these appoint-
ments from a list submitted by the bishop.55
The testimony of Antonio Vaca de Castro was concerned primarily with
the religious instruction of the Indians in Peru.56 A principal difficulty was
that no care had been taken to place a priest in each encomienda. The first
remedy was to compel bishops to make visitations and encomenderos to
hire a priest and pay a sufficient salary. Large numbers of scattered villages
should be brought together into fewer larger ones and the roads improved.
More clergy should be placed among the Indians; their salaries were exces-
sive, and two could be supported for the current salary of one. The clergy
sometimes left the encomienda without informing the encomendero, who
might also appoint a less suitable replacement. The clergy often lived in
their particular towns and might not visit the outlying areas more than
twice a year. As a result, many Indian children died without baptism.
Ayala de Espinosa urged the establishment of benefices for diocesan
clergy, who would then look after the Indians as their own and see to their
good. He recommended that these be conferred on deserving creoles, who
could support themselves without depending on tributes or pensions. He
also urged the establishment of more bishoprics and prebends and the
appointment of men of virtue and learning. The king had ordered that no
126 JUAN DE OVANDO
provision be made without the preliminary investigation and approval of

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

In his opening statement, Francisco de Morales observed that one of the
principal purposes of Ovando’s visita was “to take information and inquiry
into the harm and prejudices that the natives suffer and the causes that
have so finished them off.”59 The souls of the Indians were being harmed
by the bad example of those who gave them religious instruction. What
they saw and received from the Spaniards was tyranny in the name of
Christianity. The Indians had a forlorn hope that as Christians they might
be treated better, but this was not so. Rather, it gave rise to both a tepid
Christianity and a perpetual hatred for the Spaniards, who always had the
natives “between their teeth.”60
Morales denounced all expeditions and settlements: “The demon, who
never sleeps, has invented another pernicious way to finish laying waste to
the Indians, which they call settlements.”61 All expeditions and settlements
and personal service and use of porters should be forbidden. As for the
mines, the work was excessive and dangerous. If a religious spoke against
the maltreatment of Indians in the mines, the Spaniards replied that he was
hurting the royal income. Contrary to what some persons said, the natives
did not go voluntarily to the mines but only if forced.62 There they became
sick, were poorly fed, and were overworked. The Indians should be allowed
to enjoy their total liberty, “since they are free like us and in no aspect of the
assessment of tribute may the Indians be compelled to serve either per-
sonally or in homes or ranches or any other enterprises.”63
In stark contrast to other informants, Briviesca de Muñatones believed
that work in the mines was beneficial to the Indians, as experience in the
mines of Potosí had shown. Each year, he said, the number of those going
to the mines increased, and they went freely and made money. In the low-
lands of Peru there was not a large native population, whereas the popu-
lation had increased in the highlands to more than that at the time of the
conquest.
A layman, Captain Antonio Gómez de Acosta, wrote against the use of
Indians in pearl fishing on the grounds that it was killing them. Yet, to mod-
ern readers, his solution to the problem was little better: “And since this
said fishing can be well supported with black slaves who are more capable
of enduring any kind of work, it is just that the poor Indians who are by
their nature weak be released from such a captivity and such a brutal life.”64
The belief that the use of black slaves, who were thought stronger and more
robust, would relieve the indigenous peoples of oppressive work was
rather common in the sixteenth century.65
Ayala de Espinosa’s statements in favor of the Indians were among the
strongest: “Your Majesty has often ordered that the tributes and vexations
of the native Indians be calculated, moderated, and evaluated and with
this the former grievances, such as slavery and personal services, of which
Your Majesty has extensive information, was to a certain extent reformed.”66
The reform, however, had not reached outlying areas such as Acapulco,
Zacatula, and Colima. Because of distance the Spaniards lived in great free-
dom and the Indians suffered. According to Ayala de Espinosa, “[W]hat is
most important for the perpetual peace of that land is that there not be any
powerful people in it, except those who administer justice on behalf of
Your Majesty.”67 Also: “[T]he rich people that there are would live with
128 JUAN DE OVANDO
more moderation than hitherto, both in their lifestyle and in the ill-treatment
of the Indians, whom Your Majesty should favor since these are those who
bear the pondus diei et aestus,68 serving the Spaniards and paying tribute to
Your Majesty, which is going to decrease because they are decreasing, as I
have said.”69 Two hundred encomenderos should not be allowed to live in
luxury at the expense of the poor Indians.
Ayala de Espinosa was very concerned about the Indians’ relationship
to the judicial system. First of all, there were not enough justices for the
increasing number of civil and criminal cases. This worked great hardship
on the Indians because of delays and expense. “And some of those who in
Mexico are called nahuatlatos, who are interpreters for the audiencia, on
which because of the sins of that republic depends justice for the poor
Indians, these are those who take advantage of the delay of lawsuits, from
which they make money forever.”70 The king had ordered that when
Indians were convicted of crimes that were capital in Spain, the sentences
could be commuted, for example, to work in textile mills. In itself this was
not a vexation, as the natives were paid. However, they were forced to sleep
out in the open, “worse than animals.” They were given little to eat and
almost literally worked to death. “They are more oppressed than in the
galleys.”71 The oidores and the alcalde de corte (judge of the civil division)
had failed to visit and supervise these workshops.
Morales testified that the increase in tributes beyond the Indians’ capac-
ity to pay was leading to their destruction, or at least their flight to other
areas.72 “By all right they have no obligation to contribute except to the
support of the preaching of the gospel and the administration of justice.”73
Anything beyond that was unjust. But it was not only the Spaniards who
were oppressing and diminishing the Indians. Another harm was the serv-
ice that the Indians had to perform for the native principales (nobles), which
was reducing their numbers from one hundred in an area to ten or even
three or four. This practice should be outlawed.74
In Mexico City the king had established a hospital solely for Indians.
According to Ayala de Espinosa, who was administrator of the hospital for
three years, all Indians, male and female, and even those in jail went there
to be cured. The king should continue to support it as he did when “this
living temple” was first founded.75 A site had been purchased and on it were
built a church and some rental apartments as infirmaries where the sick were
very poorly accommodated. The present building was overcrowded, and it
was sometimes necessary to refuse patients. The hospital was seriously

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

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

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

Indies and as the king’s secretary, though he seems to have had little influ-
ence on policy. Other members who had or had had ebolista connections
were Gómez Suárez de Figueroa (the first duke of Feria), Gómez Zapata,
and Garnica. The presence of so many present and former ebolistas sup-
ports the idea that the faction was undergoing a resurgence. Eboli, Feria,
Chinchón, and Antonio de Toledo all came from the Council of State and
may well have been intended to counterbalance Ovando’s predominantly
letrado nominations. Though there is no clear evidence of Ovando’s attach-
ment to any group, as a client of Espinosa’s he would have been in the anti-
Eboli faction that included the duke of Alba. Mateo Vázquez de Leca also
belonged to this group and had an enduring antagonism toward Antonio
Pérez, an ebolista.
In addition, Ovando proposed members for a junta particular, a special
junta or inner group, composed of Méndez de Quijada, Ruy Gómez, Briv-
iesca de Muñatones, López de Velasco, Fernández de Liévana, Vázquez de
Arce, Gómez Zapata, and Eraso. Ovando did not join the inner circle until
its meeting of 21 November 1569.86 It is disconcerting to find a junta within
a junta. This one was intended to have fewer members and apparently was
the one at which specific decisions were made.87 One name that was
missing from both lists was that of Martín Enríquez de Almansa, the newly
appointed viceroy of New Spain. In all probability he had already departed
for or had arrived at Mexico City. In addition, the focus of the Junta Magna
was Peru, not New Spain.88
The agenda was drawn in great part from the information gathered by
Ovando’s visita, but it was also fluid and underwent change. Sometime
before the first meeting, Ovando and the Council of the Indies listed for
the king the topics they considered the most important of those that were
emerging from the visita:89 (1) perpetuity of the encomienda; (2) payment
of tithes by the Indians; (3) new discoveries and settlements; (4) visitas and
taxes and the imposition of tributes; (5) collection of almojarifazgos at
those ports where they were currently not collected (probably a result of
Ayala de Espinosa’s report); (6) rights of royal patronage over the church;
(7) establishment of a patriarchate of the Indies to which the bishops in the
Indies could have recourse and what authority the patriarch would have;
(8) establishment of the Inquisition in New Spain and Peru; (9) appoint-
ment of criminal judges (alcaldes del crimen) in Lima; and (10) the status of
132 JUAN DE OVANDO
royal finances in the New World. With the exception of the question of con-
quests, all these points were discussed in greater or lesser depth by the junta.
Though the king agreed to the junta in May 1568, the first meeting was
delayed until 2 July because of the illness and death of the king’s son, don
Carlos.90 The meetings were held in Espinosa’s house in Madrid, and he
described the discussions as long and intense.91 Almost certainly Mateo
Vázquez was responsible for keeping the minutes and decisions of the
junta, which have survived in two documents.92 In all probability the junta
completed its business at the end of 1568.93
At Espinosa’s behest the first meeting addressed the questions relating
to the church and the missionary enterprise in the Indies.94 There was an
obvious sensitivity to and worry about the criticisms that had been leveled
against the way in which Spain had handled evangelization. The bishop of
Cuenca began by asserting the traditional view that the only just title for
ruling the Indies was the promulgation of the gospel. This would justify
his rule in reaction to the restitucionistas, such as Las Casas and Maldon-
ado. Diego de Chaves indirectly defended the crown by asserting that the
orders did not send their best men to the New World. Fresneda pointed to
the dissension between bishops and religious. If the crown favored the
bishops, the religious would be weakened. If it favored the religious, the
bishops would consider themselves worthless, and the lax would become
even more so.95
In this first meeting the members of the Junta Magna also considered
the question of whether Indians should pay tithes. Fresneda said that if
they did, their tributes ought to be lessened because they would be pay-
ing twice for the same obligation.96 The junta eventually avoided a deci-
sion by leaving it to those who would have to implement it. At a later
meeting it decided that the Indians’ tithes should be restricted to the
fruits of the earth, since they already paid tribute on other items. With
regard to Indian tribute, the junta tried to strike a balance that would
require the natives to pay a just amount without being oppressed by it.97
The junta’s major innovation was to shift the responsibility for payment
from individuals to communities. The local chiefs were to administer
this. It was impossible, however, to set a standard system of payment
throughout the Indies because of the diverse conditions. Natives who
lived near the mines were expected to pay in specie and as individuals.
Other were to pay in the accepted ways, that is, with agricultural products,
mantles, and other products.
At the first meeting of the inner junta the members considered the ques-
tion of the patriarchate of the Indies.98 Since it appeared unlikely that the
papacy would approve a plan that further weakened its authority in the
Indies, the discussion was postponed, though a paragraph on it was included
with the instructions to Viceroy Toledo.99 The king, however, did seek it
later, when it had become a purely honorary title, and it became the sub-
ject of protracted negotiations between Philip and Pius V and the latter’s
successor, Gregory XIII.100 Pius V, in turn, wanted to send a papal nuncio to
the Indies who would be directly responsible to him. The papal nuncio in
Madrid, Giovanni Battista Castagna, reassured the papal secretary of state,
Cardinal Alessandrino, that he would continue to press the matter with the
king at a time he judged opportune, “because in truth one should examine
His Majesty’s mind very closely on this point.”101 No nuncio was ever sent
to the New World.
The junta considered it absolutely necessary to increase the number of
dioceses and set their boundaries with precision. In a separate document
they listed the possible new dioceses. The nominees for the new sees should
be persons who had resided in the land and thus had knowledge and expe-
rience of it. The members also decided to ask Rome for expanded faculties
for bishops because of the vast areas and the difficulty of travel.102 The
bishops were to make visitas of their dioceses and to have provincial coun-
cils every two years and diocesan synods every year. Because of the short-
age of secular clergy, there were few canonical parishes in the Indies. The
junta wanted to change this and establish regular parishes for the natives.
This followed the lead of the Council of Trent in attempting to enhance the
diocesan church structure.103
Because of intrusion into the Indies by English and French Protestants,
including an attempt by Huguenots to colonize the Carolina coast, and
because of disorders among Spaniards, such as heresy, treason, and homo-
sexuality, the junta favored the establishment of the Inquisition in the
Spanish dependencies.104 In one sense it seems strange that this should
have come so late after the conquest. Up to the time of the Junta Magna,
inquisitorial functions had been in the hands of bishops, with a resulting
inefficiency, as Ayala de Espinosa had pointed out. The members of the
134 JUAN DE OVANDO
junta recommended the establishment of four tribunals: Lima, Mexico

City, the Nuevo Reino de Granada, and the Caribbean-Florida. Eventually
only the first two were established. It was also foreseen that the Indians
would not be subject to the Holy Office.105
The junta gave Viceroy Toledo a set of instructions on the church and the
religious situation in Peru, dated 28 December 1568.106 They undoubtedly
reflected the discussions in the junta as well as later contributions by Ovando
and others. Toledo was to visit his jurisdiction and not remain only in the
capital city. An important task was congregación, whereby the natives were
removed from their seminomadic or village life and concentrated in larger
urban districts, a policy that had been condemned by Luis Sánchez.107 In
general, there seems to have been little or no discussion of regulating con-
quests or improving the status of the Indians. Such regulations would come
from a different source.
Given the perilous state of the Castilian economy, it was only natural
that the Junta Magna should devote a great deal of attention to financial
matters. There were two clear but elusive ways to stop the slide toward
bankruptcy: increase income and decrease expenses. The junta decided in
a rather general way that the alcabala, a general sales tax, to be collected
from both Spaniards and natives, should be introduced to the Indies.108 The
Indies had been excused from it in the beginning, and attempts to intro-
duce it to Peru had been unsuccessful. Martín Enríquez later introduced
the tax in New Spain over local opposition, but his attempt to do the same
in Peru failed.109 Though the Indies did not have the alcabala, it did have
the almojarifazgos. The latter were not effective since the evaluations of
merchandise were not based on true value. The junta said that the evalua-
tion should be made where the goods were sold rather than in Seville. It
also favored drawing up a schedule of fees (arancel) for greater consistency.
Up to this time an almojarifazgo was not assessed on merchandise trans-
ported from the Indies to Spain, so the junta suggested a rate of 2.5 percent.
For the collection of the duties, the junta favored a system of tax farming
(arrendamiento de renta) rather than direct collection by royal officials.
The junta also sought to put an end to fraud. One such was that the
merchants registered only the merchandise that was going to the port of
destination, while unregistered merchandise was sold at the intervening
ports of call. The junta wanted the local officials at those ports to register all
sales. Large quantities of unregistered mercury and slaves were going to
New Spain. Ships from Flanders and other parts of Europe would go to
the Canary Islands on the pretext that it was the port of destination. The
cargoes would then be transshipped and smuggled into New Spain.
The junta discussed at length ways to revive the failing mining industry
in the New World,110 which was central to royal finances. Those who
exploited the mines should be helped as much as possible and should have
all necessary supplies—wood, materials, buildings. With regard to the gold
and silver mines, the junta believed that among the native peoples there
must be persons who were experienced in working these or retained the
tradition from Pre-Hispanic times. They considered sending experienced
German technicians but only those currently working in Spain, because
those who came directly from Germany might be tainted with Lutheranism.
Special attention was given to the mercury mines in Peru, which the mem-
bers of the junta believed should be incorporated into the crown.
A formidable obstacle was that black slaves could not work the mines in
Peru because of the high altitude. Since force or compulsion could not be
used to conscript Indians, other means were considered, such as estab-
lishing large towns nearby so that Indians would not have to travel long
distances. It was recommended that they be well treated and not com-
pelled to stay after they completed their service. Other inducements would
be high wages, awarding titles and eminences after a certain amount of
service, and allowing them to pay their tribute in gold or silver. The local
chiefs should be used to encourage the Indians to work in the mines. The
members of the junta seemed to have few original ideas about the mines;
the question of gold mines in Chile, for example, was turned over to the
Council of Finance, and it was delegated to see that the mines of New
Spain had a sufficient number of slaves and mercury.
One of the more vexing questions facing the junta concerned competi-
tion between the peninsular and colonial economies. It was believed that
the sale of Spanish goods in the Indies was decreasing, in large part because
the latter were becoming self-sufficient in many areas.111 As a result the
junta favored limiting production of certain products in the Indies “in
order that the appropriate need and dependence on these realms should
endure in them.”112 As Briviesca de Muñatones had suggested during the
visita, these products included iron, steel, wine, olive oil, linen, woolens,
and silk. He pointed out that implementing this policy would require the
greatest “caution and dexterity” and even a level of “dissimulation.”113 It
136 JUAN DE OVANDO
was also believed that a prohibition on the production of steel and wine
would contribute to peace. There was disagreement over silk.
Because of the diversity of opinions, the members of the junta did not
reach agreement on the matter of perpetuity of the encomiendas; rather, it
submitted all the opinions to the king for his decision.114 They did make
some recommendations, however. If the king should adopt the program
proposed by the commissaries and the conde de Nieva, then it should be
up to the viceroy to decide, according to local circumstances in Peru, if per-
petuity was advisable and under what conditions. He should also decide
if the “one-third” referred to the total income or a third of the number of
encomiendas.115 To avoid difficulties, the viceroy should announce, before
negotiations took place, that only a third of the encomiendas would be
considered for perpetual grants. Since the term feudo (fief) was unaccept-
able in reference to encomenderos, they should be given some other title,
such as baron or count.116 They should be granted civil but not criminal
jurisdiction, since the latter would allow them to intervene in too many
cases involving the “weak and submissive” Indians.117
Clearly the king was still thinking about the possibility of selling grants
in perpetuity. He was also trying to buy time. The majority of the members
of the junta agreed with the threefold program of the commissaries. In the
question of civil jurisdiction, they were trying to strike a balance between
the demands of the encomenderos and the needs of the Indians, but this
was a substantive change in the concept of the encomienda, and it is sur-
prising that the king’s advisers would even think of it. The Council of the
Indies, in contrast, was strongly opposed to perpetuity and the granting of
jurisdiction, both out of concern for the natives and out of the fear of
separatism.118 In 1569 the papal nuncio in Madrid informed Rome of the
status of the question and added, “This point has already been discussed
for more than twenty years, and there is no danger that it will soon be
resolved.”119 The deliberations of the Junta Magna showed how correct he
was. Finally, in 1592, the king suspended all discussion of the matter.120
Ovando’s final evaluation of the Junta Magna, given in a letter to the
king five years later, was not favorable.121 Most of the members did not
know anything about the Indies, he wrote. They agreed on instructions to
Viceroy Toledo, but though he was zealous and a hard worker, he had the
land in such an uproar that he had to spend all his time pacifying it. That
same junta agreed to establish the Inquisition but not everywhere in the
New World where it was necessary. To have done so would have cost too
much money. It was clear how few understood the affairs of the Indies.
The greatest shortcoming of the Junta Magna was its failure adequately
to address the questions of perpetuity and of pacification and settlements.
The encomienda would grow increasingly anachronistic in a mercantile
society and would eventually wither on the vine of endless discussion. The
issue of conquests (but under the name of pacification) and settlements
would be resolved by Ovando in his compilation of the laws of the Indies.
Ovando grew increasingly frustrated with the junta system. As it turned
out, such innovations as were made in colonial policy came from his per-
sonal initiative, not from the deliberations of committees.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The Grand Design
J
uan de Ovando’s visita of the Council of the Indies and the extensive
information he collected provided much of the agenda for the Junta
Magna and helped to direct the focus of imperial policy. Its impact, how-
ever, was not limited to this. Other aspects of the visita can be reconstructed
from reports and recommendations that Ovando submitted to the king.
Unfortunately, all are undated, but from internal evidence it appears that
they were written sometime in 1571.1
Shortly after the close of the visita Ovando had an audience with the
king, one of the few known times that they met face to face. At or after this
audience Ovando submitted his recommendations in written form.2 He
sounded a familiar note when he said that if steps were not taken there
was danger that “everything built up in that world, spiritually and tem-
porally, will very soon come to total ruin and destruction.”3 His observa-
tions touched on the ignorance of the councillors, the lack of organization
and knowledge of existing laws, and the need for reform and new laws in
the Indies. Under present circumstances “neither those who have been
appointed by the Council or by those who govern the Indies have or have
had any regard for the public good but only for the good of the persons
appointed. This causes the destruction of the republic.”4 The incompetence
and personal guilt of various councillors did not occupy him because so
many of the accused were dead. There is little evidence of any systematic
follow-up. Ovando was more interested in structural reform. The immedi-
ate needs were the reform of the council itself, accurate information about
THE GRAND DESIGN 139
the state of the Indies, and organization of existing legislation as a basis for
a comprehensive law code.
Ordinarily the king would have appointed outside judges to try the
individual cases and implement the results of the visita, but in sharp con-
trast to standard procedure, Ovando persuaded Philip II to let him remain
as visitador even after the visita was concluded.5 Equally innovative was
his proposal to involve the council in the work of reform and in the for-
mulation of laws and ordenanzas for both the council and the Indies. In
this way, he told the king, the councillors would accept this work as their
own, not something imposed from outside.
REFORMING THE COUNCIL OF THE INDIES

On 24 September 1571 Philip II gave royal approval for Ovando’s orde-
nanzas for the Council of the Indies.6 Unfortunately, the two key docu-
ments describing the formulation of the ordenanzas are undated, and so it
is difficult to get a clear picture of this process.
One of these documents was a report to the king after the visita, in which
Ovando suggested means for improving the performance of the council.7
Not only was there general ignorance in the council about the affairs of the
Indies, but he doubted that the councillors could or would learn anything.
Up to 1569 only six of forty councillors had had any personal experience in
the Indies and two of those only briefly.8 Councillors, he wrote, should be
chosen from among the deserving oidores who had experience in the New
World and they should not be members of other councils. Ovando’s rec-
ommendation would have permitted a councillor to concentrate on specific
areas but at the cost of coordination with other agencies. The president
alone should submit the consultas on offices in the Indies, just as the pres-
ident of the Council of Castile did. This would expedite the business of the
council and would also avoid factionalism and favoritism among its mem-
bers. The king should be consulted only about appointments to high offices
in the Indies, such as those of viceroy and bishop. He suggested a number
of changes in the procedures of the council. Hitherto all the councillors had
to be present for discussion of even the most inconsequential business.
According to Ovando, routine matters of governance could be transacted
by the president with two or three councillors. Afterward the president
140 JUAN DE OVANDO
could inform the rest of the council of what business was transacted. The
majority of the councillors were against this idea, but “the more sound”
were in favor of it.9
Though some of these proposals were eventually implemented, three of
the most important ones were not approved by the king, who apparently
wanted to keep a free hand—that the places on the Council of the Indies be
given to the most deserving members of the colonial audiencias, that no
councillor be a member of another council, and that both these proposals
be put in the ordenanzas. However, the granting of positions on the Coun-
cil of the Indies was reserved exclusively to the Council of Castile and its
chamber (cámara), without consultation with the Council of the Indies.
Actually, the Council of Castile knew little or nothing about the Indies but
was jealous of its turf. Subsequently, few oidores from the Indies were
appointed to the Council of the Indies.
The Ordenanzas del Consejo were signed by the king on 24 September
1571.10 They established a council consisting of one president, eight coun-
cillors, and one fiscal.11 In addition to other qualifications, all had to be Old
Christians. There were numerous subordinate officials, including a secre-
tary, two notaries, one each for administration and justice, two clerks (rela-
tores), one advocate (abogado), and one representative (procurador) of the
poor, plus assorted doorkeepers and accountants. Two important additions
that had been championed by Ovando were an alguacil and the cosmógrafo-
cronista. Of the tasks set before the council, the two most important were
to learn as much as possible about the Indies and to see to the good treat-
ment of the natives. The council was to meet every Wednesday to transact
ordinary business and on the first Monday of every month to draw up
consultas and advice for submission to the king.12 All proceedings were
held in strict secrecy.
THE RELACIONES GEOGRÁFICAS

From the beginning of the visita Ovando had concentrated on learning all
he could about the New World and for that purpose searched through all
the papers in the council. He quickly discovered that many of the docu-
ments that belonged to the council had gone astray, so one of his first tasks
was to reclaim them. Ovando became almost obsessive in his desire to
gather information on history and life in the New World. His interest went
beyond the merely pragmatic to include not only the current state of the
Indies but also the customs, rites, history, religion, and even the eating habits
of the natives from preconquest times until his own. What one author has
called “a fever” of information gathering was not merely a matter of curi-
osity.13 Ovando wanted to build a corpus of data that would compensate
for the ignorance of the Council of the Indies and prevent a recurrence of
that ignorance. His gathering of information for the visita and for the coun-
cil overlapped, so that it seems that the one grew out of the other.14
In 1569 Ovando sent a questionnaire of thirty-seven chapters to a num-
ber of jurisdictions, asking for information on expeditions, discoveries,
navigation, and descriptions of provinces.15 In about 1570 Ovando drafted
a parallel inquiry of some 200 questions to the heads of civil and ecclesias-
tical units to obtain more detailed coverage of these and allied subjects.16
As this was too cumbersome, in 1573 a questionnaire of a mere 135 ques-
tions was issued. A response from the licenciado Echagoian, oidor of the
audiencia of Santo Domingo on the island of Española, commented on the
“great work and curiosity, unseen and unheard of by any visitador up to
now.”17
On 16 August 1572 Philip II signed a cédula concerning the general
descriptions (descripciones generales).18 It was remarkable for the breadth
and nature of the information that was sought, including not only history
and politics but also geographic and ethnographic data: “the religion,
government, rites, and customs that the Indians have had and do have and
the description of the land, nature, and qualities of the things there.”19
Ovando was genuinely concerned about the welfare of the natives and
equally concerned to preserve their preconquest history, a concern not
shared by all his contemporaries. On 3 June 1573 the king issued a cédula
that ordered the compilation of a book of descripciones, a sort of encyclo-
pedia of the data that would be gathered.20 In 1575 a new questionnaire of
fifty questions was sent out.21
A program as ambitious as the one envisioned by Ovando required a
full-time official to supervise and implement it. For that purpose he pro-
posed to the king the creation of the office of cosmógrafo-cronista.22 This
official’s record keeping, which was to be “according to the art of geography,”
included data on provinces, seas, islands, rivers, mountains, and other places
according to longitude, latitude, and size. Maps, drawings, and paintings
were also to be kept, based on the information received from the Indies.23
142 JUAN DE OVANDO
The first person appointed to this post was Juan López de Velasco, a close
associate of Ovando’s both in the visita of the Council of the Indies and in
the work of codifying the laws of the Indies. In addition to his other tasks,
he was charged with compiling a history of the Indies, including precon-
quest times. From the end of 1571 on there were directives from the king
ordering the search for data, news, and documents and their immediate
forwarding to the council.24 Authorities in America were to provide infor-
mation on any persons, lay or religious, who had written or collected or had
in their possession any history, commentaries, or accounts of the discover-
ies, conquests, expeditions, or wars.
The novelty of Ovando’s approach was that it institutionalized what
had been a sporadic, ad hoc approach. There was now a high government
office that had a twofold purpose, geographic and historical, but it proved
difficult to find individuals who were equally skillful in both fields. The
cosmógrafo-cronista was to a permanent resource for the council, com-
pensating for the councillor’s general ignorance of the Indies.
On 17 August 1572 Philip II sent a cédula to Viceroy Martín Enríquez
directing him to gather together and send to Spain either originals or
copies of all documents relating to the history of New Spain.25 On 28 March
1576 Archbishop Pedro Moya de Contreras wrote to the king, “I came to
learn that an elderly Franciscan friar, named Bernardino de Sahagún and
the best Nahuatl speaker in all New Spain, which is what is most essential
for the true history of the natives, has put together a general [history] of
the things of this New Spain.”26 Ovando asked to see a copy of the work.27
In Spain another Franciscan, Miguel Navarro, gave Ovando a summary of
Sahagun’s work. Because the original was written in Nahuatl, Ovando
asked for a translation. The Franciscan provincial in New Spain ordered
Sahagún to make the translation, which was forwarded to Spain. The
translation was done in relative haste between 1575 and 1577.28 The fate of
this history and of Ovando’s project is discussed below.
Ovando’s interest extended to the scientific sphere. He was responsible
for dispatching at least one scientific expedition to the New World, perhaps
even before he joined the Council of the Indies.29 This was the mission of
Doctor Francisco Hernández, who went to New Spain in about 1570.30
Ovando and Hernández were good friends who had been in Seville
together. Hernández’s office was that of protomédico, general supervisor of
all scientific endeavors. In New Spain he collected botanical, medicinal, and

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

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

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

de Velasco as a guide, it served the Council of the Indies as a resource for
previous policies and actions in the Indies.
Ovando drew up a cumbersome process for formulating the new law
code. As each book was finished, it was to be submitted to the king for his
approval and signature. It would then be sent to the appropriate officials
in the Indies for implementation. At the same time these officials—vice-
roys, audiencias, bishops, and provincial councils—would be asked for
opinions. The final code would be the result of this consultation. It was
unusual for a law to be subject to change after the king had signed and
promulgated it.44 This was another of Ovando’s innovations, but it was not
destined to last. By mid-1571 Ovando had submitted to the council the first
two books, and it had approved book 1, Libro de gobernación espiritual, and
title 2 of book 2, Ordenanzas.45
Of Ovando’s compilation, only four parts were published and promul-
gated. This was done on a piecemeal basis, without waiting for the com-
pletion of the entire corpus. Two of these have already been described: the
Ordenanzas for the Council of the Indies (24 September 1571) and the Orde-
nanzas on descriptions (3 July 1573). The other two were the Ordenanzas on
pacification and settlements (13 July 1573) and the Ordenanza del patronazgo
real (1 June 1574). The last two took immediate effect in the Indies and were
later incorporated in great part into the Recopilación de leyes de las Indias of
1680. The Ordenanzas for the Council of the Indies remained in force until
new ones were promulgated in 1636. Of Ovando’s original ordenanzas,
only those that were incorporated into the revision of 1636 found their way
into the Recopilación of 1680. Those that covered the description of the state
of the Indies were not only quickly forgotten but left no trace in the Recopi-
lación of 1680.
The process of compiling and codifying the laws remained unfinished
at Ovando’s death. There were attempts to continue the work, but these
proved largely unsuccessful. Possibly Ovando was the only person with
sufficient ambition and energy to complete the work. Perhaps most of the
councillors simply did not want that type of reform. Lethargy and bureau-
cratic inertia may also have played a role. It was only in 1680 that the
Recopilación de leyes de las Indias was finally published, more than a century
after Ovando’s death.
SPIRITUAL ADMINISTRATION
When Ovando was conducting his investigation of the council, he also
worked on the first volume of the proposed compilation, De la gobernación
espiritual, completing the first version early in 1569.46 In his undated report
to Philip II after the conclusion of the visita, Ovando offered his vision of
the Libro de gobernación espiritual.47 The first question was that of the tithes
from the Indies, all of which, by papal concession, belonged to the king.
For the construction of churches that had taken place up to that time, the
king conceded the tithes to the churches and their ministers in perpetuity,
reserving two-ninths of one-half, or one-ninth of the total, for himself. The
new Libro de gobernación espiritual reserved to the king two-ninths of the
total. Ovando suggested that the royal concession should be not be per-
petual but according to the will and pleasure of the monarch. This would
provide more flexibility when times changed.
One extraordinary proposal that Ovando made was that all churches to
be erected in the Indies in the future should be regulares, that is, entrusted
to the religious according to the model that he forwarded to the king.48
In his opinion this would satisfy the friars, there would be more of them,
there would be better relationships with the bishops, the churches would
be subject to the diocesan clergy “who are a very poor and wretched peo-
ple,” and the churches could be supported with less expense and without
the pomp of diocesan churches. It would eliminate greed among the friars
(he did not explain how) and their need to exact tithes and alms from their
parishioners. It would also relieve the king of the need to support the reli-
gious from the royal treasury, which in New Spain cost 36,000 pesos annu-
ally. This, he admitted in a masterpiece of understatement, was an innova-
tion, since all parishes in the Indies, in contrast to mission stations, had
been established as diocesan. The question, he concluded, should be dis-
cussed both in the Council of the Indies and in the provincial councils to be
held in the Indies.
The model of the proposal found in the Gobernación espiritual was some-
what different from that proposed to the king.49 The plan was to be imple-
mented only in those areas where the majority of the inhabitants were
natives. In those places the entire church structure, from bishop to parish
priests, would be composed of religious. The bishop would be a religious,
would live in the religious house closest to the cathedral or principal church,
148 JUAN DE OVANDO
and would simultaneously function as religious superior. All goods, both

of the order and of the diocese, would be held in common. Eventually
diocesan bishops and clergy would yield to the religious in these areas. He
was proposing two parallel churches: one for the natives and mission
areas, consisting entirely of religious, the other for Spaniards and more set-
tled areas, under regular diocesan administration and staffing.
Ovando’s proposal would have spelled the end of doctrinas, mission
stations that had passed beyond missionary status and most of whose
parishioners were Indians. They were not parishes in the proper canonical
sense, for if they were, the religious would have had to yield them to dioce-
san clergy, as many bishops wanted. In the sixteenth century the office of
pastor was considered incompatible with the religious life. The theory was
that the friars would work in the missions, and once the missions were
stabilized, they would become regular diocesan parishes, and the friars
would make way for the diocesan pastors. The doctrinas had created great
tension between bishops and religious, with the latter claiming independ-
ence of the local ordinary.50
Ovando sought to obviate this difficulty by putting everything in the
hands of the religious. On the face of it he wanted to turn the friars into
parish priests, something that not only ran counter to their constitutions
and traditions but also would bring them directly under the control of the
bishops, even if they all belonged to the same order.51 There is no further
information about the fate of this proposal, and the later Ordenanza general
del patronazgo real would move in the opposite direction. There is reason to
suspect that like his attempt to have letrados appointed viceroys, it was
too revolutionary. It is also difficult to believe that the proposal would have
had the beneficial effects he claimed for it.
Ovando then broached the need for some sort of order and regulation in
the church in the Indies. Here he dealt with the subject very much in the
spirit of the Catholic Reformation: “The churches are not well ordered nor
endowed or provided with ministers, and those that they do have are
useless, appointed through favoritism and partiality and not as a public
matter.” He then gave a devastating critique of the state of the church in
the New World.
There is no bishop in the church [diocese] of San Juan de Puerto Rico.

Santo Domingo was sixteen years without a bishop. In Cuba there is
a bishop but on the entire island there are not four diocesan priests.
In Venezuela there are only a bishop and an aged, decrepit dean.
There is no bishop in Cartagena, Guatemala, Nicaragua, Tlaxcala,
Nueva Galicia. The one in Mexico is so old as to be useless. There is
none in the Nuevo Reino [de Granada]. The one in Popayán is not
worth much [de muy poca substancia]. [The archbishop] of Lima is
very old and would like to resign. Cuzco has been without a bishop
for ten years. Tucumán is without a bishop. And although for many
of these places they have been named and appointed, they have not
gone because they seek these dignities more to escape being friars
and out of vanity than embracing the work that the office of bishop
brings with it. And those who have made the appointments have
concentrated more on their friends than on those who could do the
work well.52
What Ovando envisaged was an all-encompassing body of legislation

that would regulate almost every aspect of religious life in the Indies: the
Libro de gobernación espiritual. According to a preliminary list it was to have
included twenty-two parts: (1) laws, cédulas, provisions, and ordenanzas
for the government of the Indies; (2) the Most Holy Trinity and the Holy
Catholic Faith; (3) the sacraments; (4) bishops; (5) clerics; (6) religious
orders; (7) vows and promises; (8) excommunication, suspension, and
interdict; (9) churches; (10) privileges and immunities of churches and their
cemeteries; (11) monasteries, churches, and other properties of religious
orders; (12) burials; (13) properties of churches; (14) the right of patronage;
(15) benefices; (16) first fruits; (17) offerings; (18) tithes; (19) smallholdings
by diocesan clergy; (20) mortgages and taxes given by churches; (21) feast
days, fasting, and alms; and (22) pilgrimages and the poor.53 This reads
much like an agenda for a provincial council or an abbreviated code of
canon law.
There are four known manuscripts of the Libro de gobernación espiritual.
One is in the Archivo Histórico Nacional, Madrid. González thinks that
this may have been Ovando’s original prepared for the Council of the
Indies.54 It has no signature, date, or authentication. There is another in the
Biblioteca Nacional in Madrid.55 It was written between 1570 and 1571 and
signed by members of the Council of the Indies. Apparently, this copy was
to be given to Philip II for revision and comments. The other two manu-
scripts are in the library of the royal palace in Madrid in the Colección de
150 JUAN DE OVANDO
Copias brought together by Manuel José de Ayala under the title Mis-
celánea, volume xxi, numbers 2848 and 2849. They are written in two dif-
ferent hands. The most notable variation in the four manuscripts is that the
proposal for religious churches is lacking in the Biblioteca Nacional man-
uscript but is found in the other three at the end of title 9, numbers 81 to
92.56 The manuscript of the Libro de gobernación espiritual in the Biblioteca
Nacional has been transcribed and published together with cross-refer-
ences to the other manuscripts by González.57
Because the Gobernación espiritual was not signed by the king or prom-
ulgated, it did not have an immediate impact on the Indies. The most likely
reason for this was fear of opposition from the papacy, which did not want
to see its power over the church in the Indies further eroded. Gregory XIII,
who became pope on 13 May 1573, was openly hostile to the reforms of
Philip II and the attempt to reclaim some authority over the church in mis-
sion lands. Many of the provisions were later incorporated into the decrees
of various provincial councils, most notably the Third Council of Lima
(1583) and the Third Council of Mexico (1585). Ovando’s reforms took root
in an indirect and belated fashion.
THE ORDENANZA DEL PATRONAZGO REAL

By 1574 most of the crown’s, and Ovando’s, attempts to gain full control of
the church in the Indies had failed. Besides the Libro de gobernación espiri-
tual, the attempt to establish a patriarchate of the Indies, which also would
have emancipated the church from papal control, had also failed.58 Ovando
faced a nagging problem—how to bring the missionary friars under the
control of the crown without causing them to withdraw from their mission.
At one of the meetings of the Junta Magna it was decided that the section
on religious should be sent as a separate cédula, that is, the Ordenanza del
patronazgo real, the only part of the entire Gobernación espiritual that was
published or promulgated. Perhaps this was done because of royal reluc-
tance to submit all of book 1 to the papacy or because of a sense of urgency
to settle the mendicant question.59
Philip II signed the Ordenanza del patronazgo real on 1 June 1574. This
was published as a royal decree, without mention of the codification that
was in progress.60 The cédula opened with a ringing declaration of the abso-
lute and total nature of the right of patronage.61 Anyone who violated it
“being a secular person, will incur the loss of the favors that he may have
from us in the entire state of the Indies, and will be ineligible to have and
obtain others and will be permanently exiled from all our kingdoms.”62 No
church, cathedral, or religious building of any type could be built or estab-
lished without express royal permission, nor could any archdiocese, dio-
cese, or any ecclesiastical office be instituted without the same permission.
It regulated the provision of benefices and appointments to ecclesiastical
cabildos, for which letrados were preferred to other candidates. It also pro-
vided for the participation of the viceroy and the local audiencias in this
process, a participation that gave them a high degree of control. Arrange-
ments were made for the religious instruction of the Indians in places
where there were no benefices or ecclesiastical offices. In contrast to previ-
ous procedures, this one applied to all ecclesiastical offices, “all residential
and simple benefices, secular and religious,” all of which were now under
the control of the bishops and civil officials.63 Behind the legal terminology
lay an attack against the privileges of the mendicant friars, especially in the
doctrinas. These replacements were to be chosen by competition (oposi-
ción). The names of the top two candidates were to be submitted to the
viceroy or president of the audiencia, who would make the choice and give
it to the bishop for canonical conferral.
The cédula was a stark document. It had little in the way of introduction
or context other than the protection of the right of patronage. It was a tac-
tical response to a perceived threat to the Spanish empire, with the mendi-
cants as the special target. That it regulated other aspects of church life was
in some ways secondary. It was taken out of its original context so as to
bring order to the church of New Spain and especially to bring the mendi-
cants’ doctrinas under the control of the bishops and the civil authorities.
The friars in the New World reacted with disbelief and outrage. They
firmly rejected any attempt to bring them under the control of the bishops
or the local civil government. In New Spain Archbishop Moya de Contr-
eras attempted to persuade them that the ordenanza was for their good
and that of their flocks, but his soothing words had little effect.64 In Decem-
ber 1574 the provincials of the principal orders sent a letter to Philip II
threatening to withdraw from New Spain altogether. In 1575 the represen-
tatives of the religious went to Spain and personally asked the king to
rescind the ordenanza. This he did, in large part, but also left the way open
to reviving it. Over the next few years, however, the policy switched back
152 JUAN DE OVANDO
and forth, with the crown gaining with each change. In the period up to
1600 the quality of the diocesan clergy improved and more and more of
them moved into the doctrinas.65 By the beginning of the seventeenth cen-
tury, the secular church had won out over the friars’ church.
PACIFICATION AND SETTLEMENTS

During the first years after the discovery, Spain’s rule in the New World
was characterized by brutality, lawlessness, and instability. In the Caribbean
islands conquest, exploitation, and European diseases led to the wholesale
destruction of the native population. Some of the conquistadors were
veterans of Spain’s European wars; others were ruthless adventurers.
Fernando Cortés had a certain level of education and statecraft, but Fran-
cisco Pizarro, though his father claimed hidalgo status, was illegitimate,
illiterate, and brutal. Pedrarias Dávila in Darién, Nuño de Guzmán in New
Spain, and Hernán de Soto in the American Southwest—loathsome crea-
tures all—were typical of this breed of conquistador. While New Spain
remained relatively quiet, especially after the Avila-Cortés conspiracy, Peru
was rent by violent civil wars. In the early years Spanish control of its New
World possessions was sometimes tenuous, especially during the time of
the comunero revolts. From 1492 until the first years of the sixteenth cen-
tury, when effective control of colonial policy was in the hands of Bishop
Fonseca of Burgos and Lope de Conchillos, there was no attempt to rein in
the conquistadors.
For eighty years, Castile groped toward a coherent policy on conquests
and imperial expansion. Through a variety of legislation and royal orders,
the crown sought to reconcile the sometimes violent expansion of its
empire with the concept of just war, the rights of native peoples, and an
overarching obligation of spreading the Christian faith. However varied
these efforts may have been, there was one constant: royal control of con-
quests and settlements. Most of these were undertaken by private indi-
viduals using their own or others’ finances, yet contingent on the approval
of the crown and subject to its dictates. There was no room for unfettered
private enterprise.
The progress of legislation on this point, and hence the question of the
sources that Ovando and his coworkers may have used, is complex, if
only because of the large number of laws, provisions, and cédulas that
accumulated during the sixteenth century.66 One of the earliest attempts to

regulate the situation in the Indies was the Laws of Burgos of 1512–13.67 To
the dismay of the humanitarians, these laws legalized the encomienda and
fixed it on colonial society. On 17 November 1526 Charles V issued a
decree to ensure that conquests were carried out justly. This included the
proviso that every expedition had to have two ecclesiastics to instruct the
natives and protect them from the rapacity of the Spaniards. Of this decree
Lewis Hanke states, perhaps somewhat hyperbolically, that it “remained
as standard for a generation and was never officially superseded by any
other general law until Philip II issued his 1573 ordinances.”68 However, it
was the New Laws of 1542, the work in large part of Bartolomé de las
Casas, that extended royal control and most closely regulated Spanish-
Indian relations. Though they were concerned primarily with the good
treatment of the Indian, they also regulated conquests. The laws abolished
Indian slavery and condemned the encomienda to extinction. Although
some of the more stringent provisions were eventually repealed, the New
Laws marked a definite step forward in pro-Indian legislation and had a
strong impact on the royal ordinances of 1573.
Balancing royal power and his obligations to the native peoples was a
question that vexed Charles V throughout much of his reign. In his “polit-
ical testament” of January 1548, he counseled his son to find a balance
between his position as king and the good of the indigenous peoples.69 On
3 July 1549 the Council of the Indies, pressured by denunciations of abuses,
sent a consulta to the emperor about preventing new conquests from that
time. On 31 December he issued a provision directed to the audiencias and
justices of the Indies, in which it was stated that in view of the harm suf-
fered by the Indians further expeditions and settlements were prohibited,
even with the approval of the governors, under pain of death and the loss
of goods.70 Matters came to a head with the famous disputation at Valla-
dolid in 1550–51, at which las Casas and Juan Ginés de Sepúlveda pro-
pounded their differing opinions on the Spanish right to conquer and
rule.71 In preparation for this debate, on 16 April 1550 Charles V suspended
all conquests until their morality could be determined.72 Though the Valla-
dolid disputation stands out as a high-water mark for the defense of the
Indians, in fact the judges never delivered a verdict.
In 1556, after the insurrection of Hernández Girón in Peru (1553–54),
Charles V authorized renewed discoveries with certain restrictions. These
154 JUAN DE OVANDO
were given in the instructions to the viceroy, marqués de Cañete, on 13

May 1556. Francisco Morales Padrón sees these instructions as one of the
sources for the Ordenanzas.73 Therefore, in preparing their Ordenanzas,
Ovando and his collaborators had at hand abundant material dealing with
this matter. The date when they were completed is a matter of dispute.
Peña Cámara cites two orders of payment of January and April 1568 that
indicated that the Ordenanzas had already been compiled by those dates.
Ismael Sánchez Bella, however, believes that Ovando and his collaborators
used the 30 November 1568 instruction to Viceroy Toledo, of which there
is an extract in the Copulata. In addition, the correspondence of Viceroy
Toledo in 1572 seems to have been annotated by the councillors with ref-
erence to the Ordenanzas as a work still in preparation: “In conquests, dis-
coveries, settlement, and pacifications, follow the instruction that will be
sent to you.”74 Sánchez Bella believes it possible that their redaction may
have taken place in 1571–72.
Ovando’s ordenanzas for new discoveries, settlements, and pacifica-
tions, the cornerstone of royal policy throughout the rest of the colonial
period, were promulgated by Philip II from Bosque de Segovia on 13 July
1573.75 The text consisted of 148 chapters divided into three groups or sec-
tions.76 In the first of these, Ovando followed the instructions that had been
given to the marqués de Cañete and Viceroy Toledo. The other two—the
regulation of new settlements, and laws on the work of pacification—were
original to him.
The Ordenanzas of 1573 reflected the ideas and policies that had taken
shape over the year: state control, respect for the natives, Christianization.
They were not new policy created by Ovando.77 It is especially significant
that the text of the king’s cédula of promulgation both in the published
version and in the manuscript in the Instituto de Valencia de Don Juan
begins by quoting and incorporating in full the New Laws of 1542.78
What did the Ordenanzas actually say? The overall features of the legis-
lation are those of centralization and control. The crown assumed minute
and detailed control over the entire process of expansion and settlement.
Private action without authorization was to be severely punished with the
penalty of death and the loss of all goods. No new discovery, expedition,
or settlement could be made at the expense of the royal treasury. The word
conquest could not be used lest “the name provide the opportunity or pre-
text that force or grievance can be used against the Indians.” If war was
made, it had to be “for the defense of the settlers and in order that the set-
tlement not be hindered.”79 Relations with the natives were to be carried
out “by way of commerce and barter with gifts and peace.” The Spaniards
were to make friends with them, showing them much love,” without
“causing them any harm or hurt nor taking their possessions from them
against their will”80 To carry out the enterprise, preference was given to
religious.81 In all cases the persons who were to be entrusted with the dis-
covery “should be approved for their Christianity and good conscience,
zealous for the honor of God and our service, lovers of peace and what-
ever concerns the conversion of the Indians,” and in their actions, they
should observe strictly the ordenanzas and instructions.82
Christianity was not to be imposed by force. The natives should be per-
suaded that “of their own will they should give up that which is contrary
to our Holy Catholic Faith.”83 To attract them, they should see the advan-
tages brought by keeping them in justice, the burdens that have been lifted
from them, and the material goods they received.84 If necessary, they could
be granted a temporary exemption from tributes.85 It is not going too far to
say that these requirements reflect the influence of las Casas. They also
reflect a Eurocentric attitude and utopian vision.
In the chapters dealing with new settlements, there was a plethora of
regulations that dealt with every imaginable contingency. It was city plan-
ning on a grand scale.86 Norms were laid down for the selection of the site
and the election of town councils. The nature and duties of the office of
adelantado were carefully spelled out. It is significant that the institution of
the encomienda was retained. These could be given for three lifetimes. Set-
tlers were given lands and ranches that would become theirs in perpetuity
after five years of residence.87 Conditions were laid down for settling a
“villa,” for example, the number and social status of settlers and what ani-
mals they were to have, the amount of land that was to be received and
how it was to be divided. The fields were common, except for pastures
(dehesa). New settlements were to be laid out “with core and rule, begin-
ning from the plaza mayor [main plaza],” which is described in detail, as
is the cathedral, the royal buildings, and the hospitals.88 Provisions for
defense were to be made as soon as practicable.
Ovando’s Ordenanzas were an attempt to harmonize the spread of
empire and Christianity with the demands of justice for the native peoples.
It is remarkable that the text of these regulations begins with a complete
156 JUAN DE OVANDO
citation of the New Laws of 1542 together with their later changes and
additions—the same legislation that had provoked a revolt in Peru and
came close to doing so in New Spain. The crown never really let go of
them. The picture of Philip II’s reign as a time when the “American reality”
and financial distress caused the crown to accept institutionalized exploita-
tion of the natives needs to be modified. Ovando himself was deeply
committed to securing justice for the native population. Granted that these
ordinances may have been less than effective in practice and that many
exceptions were permitted, they still stand out as unique in modern history.
No other colonial empire went to such lengths to regulate its expansion
and to see that it was done without detriment to the indigenous peoples.
The ordinances were generally known in the Indies. Copies were given to
explorers and settlers, along with special instructions that accompanied
their contracts (capitulaciones). As Sánchez Bella has observed, “[T]he most
important conclusion may be to verify that the policy of peaceful penetra-
tion into Indian territories, in place of that of violent war, firmly planted by
the Spanish monarchy beginning with the New Laws of 1542–1543 and
reaffirmed in the ordinances of 1573, was maintained in general lines in the
following century.”89
The ordenanzas were idealistic in two senses. First, they were high prin-
cipled, recognizing moral obligations in the expansion and administration
of the world’s first global empire. They sought to harmonize two realities:
the religious and the expansionist. The second kind of idealism was the
expectation that such detailed and meticulous laws would or could be
implemented in territories thousands of miles from the mother country.
Spanish policy from the earliest days until the 1570s had been one of
asserting royal control over conquests and settlements. The ordenanzas
were the final and definitive expression of that control. It is true that excep-
tions were made to the regulations, but these exceptions came from the
crown and were controlled by it. There was no room for filibustering expe-
ditions or untrammeled individual enterprise. The ordenanzas remained
the defining royal policy for the rest of the colonial period.
PRESIDENT OF THE COUNCIL OF THE INDIES

Ovando was appointed to succeed Luis Méndez de Quijada as president of
the Council of the Indies on 28 August 1571, with an annual salary of 500,000
maravedís.90 The cédula of appointment directed the council to receive

Ovando’s oath of office immediately, without the need for additional royal
letters. On 29 August he took the oath, and in the ritual followed by Span-
ish officialdom at that time the councillors kissed the royal order and put
it on their heads as a sign of acceptance. On 3 September 1571 he received
his first payment of 169,444 maravedís.91
Ovando lost no time consolidating his powers at the expense of the
council as a whole. In this he was undoubtedly aided by Philip II’s suspi-
cion of the councillors and their known incompetence. The king began this
process by implementing some of Ovando’s previous recommendations
for streamlining the council’s business. On 24 September 1571 he granted
Ovando discretionary power to hold separate meetings to deal with mat-
ters of administration. After that he would report to the council what had
been decided, and the councillors could then make their comments. On the
same day he made another change in procedure, undoubtedly at Ovando’s
behest: when petitions for grants or favors that required a consulta with
the king came before the council, the petitioners were not to be told that the
matter was going to the king, as had been done up to that time. In this way,
in the event of refusal the king could avoid direct blame. This order was to
be kept secret.92
The greatest grant of power came on 6 October 1571 when the king
decreed that only Ovando could recommend names for appointment to
higher offices in the Indies. These offices were specified: bishops, viceroys,
presidents of the audiencias in all the Indies, oidores and alcaldes del crimen
of the audiencias of Mexico and Lima, alguaciles mayores (constables) of
these audiencias and the cities of Mexico and Lima, all the treasury officials
of Mexico and Lima, and all notaries throughout the Indies.93 Ovando
would have the same authority with regard to the lesser offices: ecclesias-
tical benefices and ecclesiastical and civil offices, jueces de comisión (inves-
tigative judges), notaries, receptores, and all other commissaries “who
were to be nominated in the council for those kingdoms and outside of
them.”94 Also on 6 October, the king revoked the ordenanza that the pres-
ident of the council could not vote in lawsuits and matters of justice and
granted that right to Ovando.95
These were sweeping delegations of royal power, and no other presi-
dent had had the like. Ovando now had the dominant voice in all appoint-
ments in the New World, and the councillors were effectively excluded
158 JUAN DE OVANDO
from all appointments. It is clear that they resented these grants, but it was
only in 1591, after Ovando’s death, that the council recovered its former
authority.96 For four crucial years Juan de Ovando was the Council of the
Indies.
PROTECTING THE INDIES

The protection of the Indies against English and French corsairs was an
overwhelming concern of the Council of the Indies during Ovando’s pres-
idency. He was continually receiving reports on maritime and military
activity in the New World. In 1571, for example, the adelantado Juan Ortiz
de Zárate sent him a complete report on the ships and artillery at the
province of Río de la Plata.97 Security was vital to the biannual convoys
that carried bullion, merchandise, and mail between Spain and the New
World. Castile depended on these flotas to bring in silver from the mines
of New Spain and Peru. In addition, there was concern that the captains
delayed the departure of the flotas in order to cram more private mer-
chandise onto the ships. Unauthorized merchandise and passengers were
also crossing the Atlantic. Merchants exaggerated the value of their goods
so as to collect more insurance or undervalued them so as to escape the
import and export taxes. Some ships were sailing alone, apart from the
flotas.
The galleons of the armada commanded by the adelantado Pedro
Menéndez de Avilés were costing 160,000 ducados a year. Worse, they
would come and go whenever the occasion presented itself, but it was
impossible to get them to leave on time, and there was a suspicion that
they delayed in order to pick up more merchandise for trading in the Indies.
The council suggested that there be two galleys on the coast and two on
the barlovento (windward) islands; that should be enough to discourage
corsairs.98
In November 1575 a royal secretary, probably Vázquez de Leca, wrote to
an unnamed person, probably Ovando, about the king’s concern for the
safety of the route to the Indies and for the timely departure of flotas and
armadas. The king directed Ovando to reread all the papers on this point,
not in council, but separately with Gasca and Santillán, though at different
times some members of the Council of War were present. The king wanted
to know if there was any other way to transport money, for example, jointly
from New Spain and Peru. He wanted this last point to be considered in
the council.99 Maritime security was not Ovando’s only concern. On 31 Jan-
uary 1572 the city of Segovia, in the region of La Plata, sent a plea to him to
halt the banditry and freebooting activity that was disrupting their area.100
LETRADOS FOR VICEROYS

Martín Enríquez de Almansa had been viceroy of New Spain since 1568. A
brusque but capable administrator, he had done a great deal to restore the
prestige of the viceregal office and bring order to a potentially fractious
colony. Ovando and Enríquez did not always get on. Like his patron
Espinosa, Ovando tended to show a certain disdain for the old nobility. In
1573 Enríquez rebuked him for this: “Your Excellency should not treat me
in any way except as a superior.”101 By 1574 Enríquez seems to have grown
tired of the factionalism and infighting associated with his office, though he
wrote to the king that he wanted to return to Spain because of his age and
infirmities.102 His request prompted Ovando to make one of his most auda-
cious efforts to solidify letrado control of the Spanish imperial bureaucracy.
Philip II was first consulted about a successor for Enríquez in February
1574.103 The king believed that Enríquez should be persuaded to remain, if
possible, because he had governed the land so well. But if his health did
not permit it, he should inform the king on the next flota. If he could not
wait, he could return on that same flota and leave Archbishop Moya de
Contreras as temporary viceroy. Given the hostility between Enríquez and
Moya de Contreras, that was hardly a realistic suggestion and was perhaps
designed to keep the viceroy at his post. When the flota returned in Feb-
ruary 1575, it brought the news that Enríquez still wanted to return. The
council looked at his letters and suggested that the king send a successor
on the flota that was due to leave in April. This was not done, and in May
Ovando assured Enríquez that the king was very satisfied with his work
and wanted to grant him a merced. He put the viceroy off, telling him that
the king would try to send him a successor but was now very busy.104
With the arrival of Enríquez’s letters in February, Ovando began a
campaign to have a letrado appointed as viceroy. He suggested that if
Enríquez was allowed to retire, a letrado should replace him because of the
money it would save in salary.105 It was an unheard-of proposal, one that
was clearly intended to enhance the status of the letrado bureaucracy and
160 JUAN DE OVANDO
was supported by the Council of the Indies and the audiencias of Mexico
and Lima.106 Saving money was a strong inducement to a financially strait-
ened monarchy. Ovando sent the king a list of possible successors but also
included a list of candidates for the post of viceroy of Peru. No títulos or
grandes were named, only letrados, “because it has now been a year since
your Majesty was consulted and was pleased to order that henceforth it
would remain agreed in this way.”107 Since this was taking place at the
height of the financial crisis, Philip may have felt there was no alternative.
In New Spain the salary would be 12,000 ducados a year, one-half of the
current salary. In Peru the salary would be 15,000 ducados, less than half of
the current 40,000.108 Yet the proposal was a veritable revolution in gov-
ernment. The viceroy was not just another official, he literally stood in the
place of the king. It was a position that in the thought of the time only a
member of the nobility could fulfill.
A month after this consulta, Ovando was still urging the king to appoint
a successor to Enríquez.109 Ultimately, his efforts were in vain. The irony,
of course, was that Enríquez was never allowed to retire. Instead he was
appointed viceroy of Peru in 1580 and died there three years later. He was
succeeded in New Spain by the amiable but ineffective conde de Coruña
(1580–83). Ovando’s plan for an empire governed by letrados had suffered
a setback, but it was probably doomed from the start. Without a standing
army, a letrado, especially if he came from humble circumstances, could
not hope to inspire the awe necessary for the post. It would have been too
radical a departure from tradition. The vice-king had to come from the mil-
itary aristocracy.
This must have been a frustrating time for Ovando. In addition to all
the other problems he had to deal with, he tried to hurry Philip II into
making a decision, but haste was not in the king’s nature.110 On 14 March
he submitted numerous suggestions for filling offices in the Indies. This
included many lesser offices, in accord with the delegation given to him.
One such office was the factor of Mexico, which offers still another insight
into how the government functioned. Ovando was against selling the
office because there was no assurance of the person’s honesty. There had
been some bad experiences in that regard. The salary was not enough to
recover what the person had paid for the office, so there was a temptation
to dishonesty. Ovando observed that the accountant (contador de cuentas)
in Mexico City, after five years in office and a salary of 3,000 ducados a
year, still had not finished half his accounts. So the Council of the Indies
had ordered him to return. Ovando suggested eliminating the office and
having the factor do the accounts, thus saving the salary. Ovando had just
sent out an order that all treasury officials in the Indies who did not finish
their accounts on time would lose their jobs.111
Ovando’s work with the Council of the Indies was probably the most
important of his career. He brought his obsession with order and organi-
zation to bear on a chaotic situation. He reorganized the council, began the
process of codifying the laws of the Indies, sought to give the crown com-
prehensive knowledge of its New World possessions, and worked to estab-
lish control over restive colonies while at the same time preserving the
rights of the natives. Tragically, some of these projects died when he did.
There was simply no one else with Ovando’s vision, ability, and dedica-
tion to carry through all these projects. In many ways the bureaucracy
reverted to its former practices. Most notably, after Ovando’s death on 8
September 1575 the Council of the Indies was without a president until the
appointment of Antonio de Padilla on 18 July 1579, a period of almost four
years.112
CHAPTER NINE
The Road to Bankruptcy
R
oyal finances in Spain throughout the sixteenth century were
precarious at best, but during the forty-two year reign of Philip
II the crown lurched from one fiscal crisis to another.1 The reason
was not difficult to find: expenditures outpaced income at an ever-increasing
rate. A solution defied the best efforts of the king and his advisers. The
problem was intensified by structural weaknesses in the financial admin-
istration and a general ignorance of financial matters that extended from
the king down through the majority of his councillors. Philip admitted in
1574, “You are aware of my ignorance as to financial affairs. I cannot tell a
good memorial on the subject from a bad one. And I do not wish to break
my brains trying to comprehend something which I do not understand nor
have ever understood in all my days.”2
The sources of the financial crises were complex and in good part were
inherited from the previous reign. The very size of the Spanish empire
required an immense financial outlay. Ruling the Holy Roman Empire,
parts of Italy, the Low Countries, and the Indies, Charles V was compelled
to spend more money than any previous Spanish monarch. His reign was
marked by almost continuous warfare that seriously depleted Spain’s
resources, and his son’s reign of forty-two years would see only six months
of peace.3 A consistent rise in prices throughout the sixteenth century accel-
erated the demand for money. When Philip II ascended the throne almost
all royal revenues were mortgaged or encumbered in some way. While
relieved of the burden of the Germanies, he found himself facing some of
THE ROAD TO BANKRUPTCY 163
the same problems as his father: a growing bureaucratic apparatus, mount-

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

between the crown and the Cortes (the assemblage of representatives of the
principal Castilian cities) on the amount of money to be paid and the term
of payment.8 It is interesting to note that the Cortes was also involved in the
encabezamiento of tercias. These were the king’s share of the tithes collected
by the church, amounting to 2/9 of the total, and for most of the sixteenth
century were, like the alcabalas, collected by means of encabezamiento.9
Another source of income was the servicios ordinario y extraordinario.
These were personal taxes paid by pecheros, or ordinary taxpayers, and
they varied throughout Spain. Pecheros were non-nobles or others not
exempt by reason of privilege or custom. Non-noble exemptions included
certain urban dwellers, secular and religious clergy, and doctors and licen-
ciados from some universities. Originally, the servicios were supplemen-
tary and occasional to help the monarch out of financial difficulties, but the
occasional nature of the taxes disappeared in the reign of Charles V. By the
time Philip II took the throne these taxes were periodically granted or
voted by the Cortes; during his reign, the Cortes never refused to vote
them. While the concession of the servicio ordinario was usually voted
immediately, that of the servicio extraordinario was often delayed in the
hope of coercing concessions from the crown.
The cruzada was a tax paid in lieu of military service against the Muslim
infidels and was intended to finance wars against them.10 The individual
who contributed received a certificate that included the granting of indul-
gences and other spiritual favors. Since the cruzada was collected by
preaching, it tended to be sporadic and hence not a consistent or reliable
source of income. Almojarifazgos were import-export taxes levied and
paid at the ports of embarkation and arrival, but as the testimony of Ayala
de Espinosa showed, collection was uneven and in many cases nonexistent.
The crown also had income from the sale of town charters, common lands,
and patents of nobility. Though the latter conferred exemption from taxes,
there were other ways in which the hidalgos were compelled to give
money. A more drastic measure, usually reserved for dire emergencies,
was the impounding, or seizure, of silver shipments from the Indies on
their arrival in Seville. This was not an outright confiscation but a forced
conversion of the bullion to long-term, low-interest bonds.
Philip II inherited not only financial problems but also the financial
structure of his father’s reign. There was no budget in the modern sense of
the term. The ways in which borrowing and repayment were handled in
practice also evolved during that century. Charles V depended for the
most part on German bankers as a source of funds, particularly the house
of Fugger in Augsburg. Early in the century, however, the Genoese began
to dominate the Castilian financial scene and devised schemes of stunning
complexity to separate the crown from its money.11 Early on, foreign bankers
had lent to the monarchs out of their personal fortunes, which involved
considerable risk.12 This situation changed after 1540, as other forms of
investment, particularly loans from private citizens, began to develop.
There was an increased dependence on asientos, or short-term loan con-
tracts that had a specified date for repayment and were usually pledged
against crown revenues, and on juros, long-term, interest-bearing bonds
that constituted a form of annuity for the holders. By 1575, according to
one modern historian, 40 percent of the total wealth of the Genoese aris-
tocracy was committed to loans to the Spanish monarchy.13 In Spain the
financial domination and speculations of the Genoese aroused deep resent-
ment, especially in the Cortes.
The asientos were negotiated at financial fairs (ferias), which were held
at Piacenza, Antwerp, and other cities. During the reign of Charles V, the
fair held twice a year at Medina del Campo became the primary venue.14
At the fairs the bankers, known as feriantes or mercaderes, borrowed money
from Spanish subjects that they lent to the crown at usurious interest rates,
which were established anew at each fair. In effect, the Genoese acted as
middlemen between the crown and its investing subjects. Hence when to
extend and finish the fairs, which in the sixteenth century generally lasted
fifty days, became closely associated with the government’s credit. “Finishing
the fair” meant that the government’s obligations to its creditors were sat-
isfactorily settled—though this did not necessarily mean total liquidation
of the debt. The advantage was that the debt was arranged and the crown’s
credit rating maintained, often with silver from the Indies. The disadvan-
tage was the outflow of cash from the treasury. Deferring the end of the fair
avoided the strain on the treasury but by advertising the crown’s financial
weakness hurt its credibility and added to interest costs.
The asientos were a tempting device for meeting immediate financial
needs, especially the floating debt (deuda suelta), though the cost was high-
interest rates and ongoing indebtedness.15 Many contemporary observers
considered the asientos the running sore of Castilian finances. They were
166 JUAN DE OVANDO
the principal business of the fairs and sustained the state in its increasing
needs and daily pressures. Those who negotiated the asientos (asentistas)
dominated and controlled the market and were the link between the state
and private citizens. They were also cordially detested, both as foreigners
and as moneylenders. The crown would sometimes guarantee payment
with the anticipated silver shipments from the Indies but more often with
liens on some source of income, including taxes and royal lands.
For longer-range financing of the monarchy, the Genoese pioneered the
concept of the juro.16 This was a contract between the crown and a lender,
whether individual or corporate, whereby the lender, in return for advanc-
ing cash to the crown, received an annuity that was guaranteed by a lien
on some source of royal income, such as a sales tax. A juro was perpetual
(perpetuo) or redeemable (al quitar), either at some specified time or a life-
time (de por vida). In the latter case it could also be inherited (de heredad).
The value of a juro depended on the value and stability of its source and the
share of the crown income that was granted. As a result juros varied greatly
in value. They were also negotiable and not surprisingly became a fertile
field for speculation.17 For the crown they were a convenient way to raise
money, but they also tended to drain investment capital from commercial
and industrial needs. They constituted a long-term, funded debt (deuda
consolidada).
Because of the risks involved in lending money to the crown, creditors
began to demand that some part of the collateral be transferred to them at
the beginning of the loan. In the original form of this bond (juro de recau-
dación or caudación), all the collateral would be returned to the crown on
repayment of the debt.18 After 1566 another form, the security bond (juro de
resguardo), was developed to provide protection against royal default.19
“Resguardo” referred to additional collateral or assurance that the bond
would be redeemed. Because of the unstable financial situation, royal cred-
itors were given the right to sell part of their securities or to exercise a lien
even before repayment. Eventually they obtained the right to sell all the
securities. In case of repayment by the crown, an unlikely prospect, they
were obliged to reimburse the crown for the full value of the collateral
sold. The creditors, however, especially the Genoese, obtained the privi-
lege of paying for these bonds by bartering bonds purchased on the open
market rather than by paying cash. Since these market bonds were often
devalued but were still accepted at face value by the government, the
opportunities for quick profit were manifold. Another safeguard against

loss allowed the bankers who accepted devalued bonds from the govern-
ment to repay their own creditors with the real rather than face value of
the bonds, thus enabling them to pass on to their creditors any loss they
might suffer from the crown.20
Periodically, it became clear that the crown could not meet even the
interest on its debts. This led to the suspension of payments, the equivalent
of bankruptcy. This was followed by a period of negotiation or settlement,
during which the crown’s debts were renegotiated. The suspended pay-
ments were changed to long-term, low-interest juros on which it was tacitly
understood that the principal would never be paid. For the creditor these
formed a guaranteed annuity.
The juros were often based on anticipated revenues (anticipos), which
were thus encumbered (situados) well in advance. This met the immediate
financial needs of the crown but also tied down future income. By the lat-
ter years of Philip II’s reign there were few taxes or royal rights that were
not encumbered in some way. Philip II also routinely permitted the export
of bullion, a relatively uncommon occurrence in previous reigns. The
export of bullion made it easier to borrow money but also guaranteed that
Spain would become a way station for the wealth of the Indies.
An additional source of income was the sale of town charters.21
Another was the sale of ecclesiastical jurisdictions and devotional books,
the collection and redonation of tithes, and subsidios. The latter, also
known as décima and cuarta, were direct 10 percent contributions levied
on ecclesiastical income and which, by papal concession, the kings of
Spain were entitled to collect.22 Like the cruzada, these were intended to
finance wars against the infidels. Because the subsidios were a violation of
the traditional immunity from personal taxes enjoyed by the clergy, the
practice was strongly resented. In 1555 Pope Paul IV revoked both the
cruzada and the subsidio at the request of the clergy of Spain, which
claimed it was being bled by the crown’s exactions.23 This provoked a cri-
sis in the crown’s relations with the papacy, one that was aggravated by
the war that broke out between the two in September 1556. The conces-
sions were restored by Pius IV in 1561, but they were not a consistent
source of revenue. The subsidios were sporadic, and the cruzada depended
on preaching and was granted only for three-year periods, at least until
1566. The papacy of the Catholic Reformation, perhaps remembering how
168 JUAN DE OVANDO
earlier financial exactions had helped to bring about the Lutheran revolt,
was hostile to the cruzada and sought to abolish it. In 1567 Pius V granted
the excusado —a subvention from the ecclesiastical persons and institutions
from income that was not strictly ecclesiastical, such as seigniorial dues—
as a compensation for the loss of the cruzada.24 It had originated about
1566 in an attempt to seek monetary contributions from the clergy without
seeking papal approval.
THE COUNCIL OF FINANCE

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

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

The Council of Finance was beset by a sorry history of factionalism,
dating to the final years of Charles V’s reign. Two groups of bureaucrats
jockeyed for dominance, led by the royal secretary Cobos and the prince of
Eboli.32 The group around Eboli chose the Council as its first target. In 1556
Francisco de Eraso was made secretary, and Gutierre López de Padilla
became effectively the president of the Council, replacing Vázquez de
Molina. The takeover was completed in 1557.33 The year 1565, however,
marked the beginning of decline for the Eboli party. The problems began
in the Council of Finance, the arena of their first major victory. The hoped
for improvement in finances did not take place; instead, there was a bank-
ruptcy in 1563. Then came the fall of Eraso, who was found guilty of cor-
ruption in early 1566. For the sake of others, including the king, some part
of Eraso’s reputation had to be salvaged, and so he was allowed to keep
some offices, including membership in the Council of the Indies.34 How-
ever, he was fined and barred from the Council of Finance for a year; he
did not regain his former influence.35
The fall of Eraso coincided with the rise of Cardinal Espinosa, to whom
Philip II turned in an attempt to stave off the impending financial crisis.
The cardinal quickly began to stack the Council with his own men:
Ovando, Francisco Hernández de Liévana, Melchor de Herrera (the mar-
qués de Auñón), Juan de Escobedo (a protégé of Eboli and secretary to Don
Juan of Austria, the king’s illegitimate half brother), Francisco de Garnica
(another client of Eboli who switched to the winning side), and Francisco
Gutiérrez de Cuéllar (nephew of Archbishop Valdés).36 Mateo Vázquez de
Leca also began to play a role in the Council, principally as the go-between
with the king. Garnica, who came from a banking family, had the reputa-
tion of being the only man on the Council who actually understood finances,
but he was widely suspected of lining his own pockets with crown funds.
The council’s work was hampered by enmities among the members and
by squabbles over precedence. In particular, Ovando disliked Herrera and
had a difficult time with Escobedo, who was short-tempered and intimi-
dating. In 1575 Ovando wrote to Vázquez de Leca, “They say that Escobedo
is coming and if it is for money, I tremble because he treats us worse than
Indians.”37 Philip II’s opinion was no higher. He complained to Vázquez de
Leca, “I am so fed up and tired [of his pestering] that I could not be more
so.”38 Cabrera de Córdoba, Philip II’s biographer, said of Escobedo that he

was “ambitious and free in asking for and giving advice on what did not
concern him, interfering, presumptuous, and excessively self-satisfied.”39
Earlier Crises
The first financial crisis came early in Philip’s reign. In 1557, a year after
Philip assumed the throne and while he was in the Netherlands, the
crown was forced to declare bankruptcy.40 This involved the suspension of
interest payments and a long period of negotiation with creditors that led
to a forced conversion of its short-term debt into long-term, low-interest
juros. The government resorted to a number of expedients to increase rev-
enue: sale of offices, subsidios from the clergy, sales of privileges to indi-
viduals and towns, and seizure of bullion that arrived in Seville from the
crown’s New World possessions. Between 1555 and 1559 bullion seizure
was resorted to more frequently than at any other time.41 On 8 September
1559, after a prolonged stay in northern Europe, Philip II landed in Spain,
having returned at the urging of the Council of State in order to face the
financial crisis. The suspension of 1557 does not seem to have been effec-
tive. On 14 November 1560 the suspension of payments was ordered
again as a preliminary to the forcible conversion of royal debts to juros
with a fixed rate of interest of 5 percent.42 There is disagreement as to
whether the two decrees constituted two separate bankruptcies or were
two stages of only one.43
The fifteen years following the resolution of this first crisis saw the
crown’s need for money increase dramatically. Sostenimiento, that is, the
maintenance of the armed forces and the civil service, was a major source
of spending. The multitudinous royal grants and favors to individuals
further drained the treasury. Most of the expense, however, resulted from
military needs. Spain joined the Holy League, organized by Pope Pius V
(1566–72) to thwart Turkish expansion in the eastern Mediterranean. This
culminated in the battle of Lepanto (7 October 1571), an important but ulti-
mately temporary defeat for the Turks. Philip continued to pour money
into defensive, and sometimes offensive, measures against the Turks until
the truce of 1577–78.44 The revolt in the Netherlands, beginning about 1563
was the most serious drain on the royal finances. This, more than any other
single factor, contributed to a new financial crisis.
172 JUAN DE OVANDO
From 1571 to 1574 Ovando played an important if informal role in the

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

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

16 January 1574 in response to a letter from Vázquez de Leca, which pro-
posed a number of questions about the council and which indicated that
the king was ready to appoint Ovando as its president. Ovando began by
remarking that it was the most difficult area of government, one whose offi-
cials led an unquiet life and suffered exhaustion and burnout. Ovando was
reluctant to become involved in it because of his lack of qualifications and
because his strength was in decline. He would accept the position only out
of devotion to the king since he “consider[ed] it a means to his salvation.”52
The first question asked by Philip II was whether the president of the
council should also conduct a visita of it. Ovando saw little use in this
unless the president had the authority to control all branches of the hacienda
and enforce his will on it. With his typical obsession with coherent organ-
ization, he outlined a plan whereby a visitador could exercise control over
the entire operation. Ovando also used the second question—how the
tribunals should be organized for the better operation of the hacienda—to
press for a strong centralized authority. The only remedy, Ovando insisted,
was that all the departments should have one president who could compel
them to work in unison. Three of these should be retained: one to deal with
the administration of the hacienda to which the councillors would belong;
the second to hear and resolve lawsuits; and the third, the contaduría de
cuentas, to deal with the closing of accounts, with its accountants subject to
the president. The president would preside over all three departments and
coordinate their work, though he would not vote in the judgment of law-
suits. Another problem was the lack of any laws or guidelines directing
the operations of the council. These, Ovando wrote, should be drawn up
and modeled along the lines of the Council of Naples (that is, the Council
of Italy).
Ovando recommended that for the contaduría de cuentas there should
be no more than four members, and he favored retaining the individuals
who were then serving. For the sala of letrados, he favored retaining the
individuals already serving and suggested some reforms of procedure. He
suggested the same for the Council of Finance proper but added that the
councillors were so busy that none of them was really involved in the
council’s work. The most important reform would be one that would allow
them to attend all meetings without fail. It was also essential that Francisco
de Garnica should remain on the council “because he is very intelligent
174 JUAN DE OVANDO
and capable, and he is very well informed and in command of matters and
without him they cannot be resolved at the present time. It is his proper
office, and he is not occupied in it.”53
Ovando passed a very different judgment on Melchor de Herrera, the
marqués de Auñón. He regarded Auñón as dangerous and problematic,
particularly because of his activities as a crown creditor.54 Ovando consid-
ered him guilty of conflict of interest and profiteering at crown expense but
did not want to bar him from the council’s meetings, at least not until a
visita should show otherwise. Ovando also nominated a number of other
persons for the council, among them, Fernández de Espinosa “because he
possesses great intelligence.”55 Despite what he had said previously, Ovando
agreed that members of the Council of Castile should continue to attend
meetings of the Council of Finance. With regard to recruiting new officials,
Ovando advocated a meritocracy. They should be noble young men, of
good penmanship and ability, who, if they proved themselves, should be
advanced through the bureaucracy. Finally, Ovando broached the delicate
problem of his being president of both the Council of the Indies and Finance,
which he thought could be “overcome with work and health.”56 He had, he
wrote, so organized the Council of the Indies that there was rarely need for
more than one meeting a day. Business was dispatched quickly and effi-
ciently. In addition, the two councils met in such close proximity that it was
easy to go from one to the other.
Ovando may have put too much faith in reorganization as the key to
resolving the crisis of the royal finances. He drew up a set of recommen-
dations that he sent to Vázquez de Leca on 2 April 1574, but his sugges-
tions for reorganizing the tribunal were not put into effect. On 14 April
1575 Ovando urged Vázquez de Leca to push the king into seeing that the
organization of the council and its tribunals was put in order.57 Again, his
efforts seem to have been in vain.
The Junta of Presidents

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

Although the exact date of Ovando’s appointment as president of the
Council of Finance is uncertain, it was probably in January or February
1574. Once appointed he set to work with his wonted energy. Vázquez de
Leca congratulated him on the way things were going, a compliment that
may have been premature.66 Ovando agreed with him, however, and
reported that the councillors “affirm that more is done in one day than was
previously done in weeks.”67 A little later he boasted that more shipments
of money had been sent in one week than in the previous two months.68
The new president faced two immediate needs, provisioning the army
in Flanders and ending the financial fair at Medina del Campo. He had to
deal with the first at a time when he was ill with what he called catarro. It
was also at this time that royal policy in the Netherlands was in flux. The
duke of Alba was losing favor with the king, and the cost of the war almost
doubled in 1573–74. The other challenge, closing the fair at Medina del
Campo, required a large sum of money and to many seemed impossible.
Both he and Fernández de Espinosa insisted that the fair should not be
closed unless the entire hacienda would be put in order by the amount to
be spent. This turned out to be impossible, so it was closed for a sum nego-
tiated by Ovando, 2,297,000 ducados.
Lovett asserts that Ovando believed that the crown could continue its
rate of expenditure and also amortize the debt.69 Undoubtedly, Ovando
also believed that a rationalization of the committee, council, and financial
structure would resolve the underlying problem. As Lovett observes the
options open to Ovando and the junta were limited by the heavy encum-
brances on the crown’s revenues and the needs of empire, especially in the
Low Countries.70
On Easter Sunday, 11 April 1574, Ovando sent a long and formal report
to the king on the status of finances.71 It was written in large print and
spelled everything out in elementary detail, as for someone totally ignorant
of the subject. To understand the royal finances, he began, it was necessary
to consider four things: (1) “what it is that we have”; (2) “what it is that we
owe”; (3) “what is left to us, what is lacking, and what we need”; (4) “where
and how we will provide it, putting it into execution.”72
What did the crown have? Looking over the various sources of rev-
enue—the encabezamiento of the alcabala, tax farming, almojarifazgos—
he estimated income at 985,250,000 maravedís. What was owed in various

forms of debt, including money owed in Flanders, came to 27,715,601,935
maravedís. The war in Flanders was costing between 600,000 and 700,000
a month. Thousands more were supporting Spain’s military commit-
ments abroad.73 It was a simple case of expenses outpacing income. The
conclusion was simple and brutal: “[W]e owe much more than we have in
income and we lack everything that we need.”74 What was needed, Ovando
concluded, totaled 1,847,000,000 maravedís. What was left in the treasury
was 168,368,040 maravedís.
Where would the money come from? He laid out his master plan to
resolve the financial crisis: increase income and suspend payments on the
running debt.75 The additional income would come from two sources: an
increase in the encabezamiento of alcabalas in Castile and León, the salt
tax, and servicio, and the seizure of the bullion on the next flota from New
Spain. The encabezamiento, he believed, would yield two million duca-
dos. Since he was at that time involved in delicate negotiations with the
Cortes, he advised that the seizure of the bullion be carried out with the
greatest discretion, even duplicity. Disinformation should be spread about
the crown’s intentions, and officials in Seville should be advised “to pro-
ceed very cautiously in this matter.”76 Ovando believed that the crown
would thus obtain more than one million ducados in cash and more than
two million in the consignments that would be freed of encumbrance and
which the mercaderes were still collecting. The royal income would con-
tinue to increase “to the extent that Your Majesty could rule the world as
he would want and so time runs to Your Majesty’s harm and everything is
ruined.”77 The suspension of interest payments, called the “decree,” was
intended to involve the restructuring of both the floating and the funding
debts. Payment on the floating debt would be suspended, and interest
would be lowered on the consolidated debt by reducing the interest rates
on the juros.78
Ovando had suggested a major step to rescue crown finances that, had
it been carried out, might have yielded positive results. His plan, however,
seems to have met opposition in the Junta of Presidents. Eventually the
members agreed to a decree of suspension only after the king intervened.
Even then, though they did not block the decree, they hindered its imple-
mentation, especially by invoking various fearful consequences, “which is
the artifice that is used to obstruct everything good.”79 Their tactics worked,
178 JUAN DE OVANDO
and although the decree was accepted in August 1574 Ovando’s plan was
not implemented. The following year he lamented to Philip II that if the
suspension had been timed with the bullion seizure the king’s financial
problems would have been resolved. In an especially frank letter to the
king in March 1575, he complained, “We could have remedied the situa-
tion by adopting any of the following schemes. We could have reformed
the central tribunal of the exchequer; or we could have dealt with my
scheme for raising a large sum to free crown rents . . . ; or we could have
resorted to ‘the decree.’ . . . Any of these measures would have sufficed to
remedy the situation.”80
Ovando returned to this plan in 1575, and again it was hindered by poor
implementation. During this time, he became increasingly disillusioned
with the junta. In his Easter Sunday report he complained to the king
about the state of the treasury and about how poorly the junta had been
functioning. In a marginal note he commented bitterly, “[F]ourteen or fif-
teen months of juntas are enough. They have not done three hours work
and there is no reason to believe that it will not be the same in the future.”81
Negotiations with the Cortes

Since it was Castile that carried most of the tax burden of empire, the
crown sought another way out of its financial difficulties by undertaking
negotiations with the Cortes of Castile.82 This body, also called the Reino,
or Kingdom, was to play a crucial role in the financial negotiations during
the next two years. In the sixteenth century it comprised eighteen cities:
Avila, Burgos, Córdoba, Cuenca, Granada, Guadalajara, Jaén, León, Madrid,
Murcia, Salamanca, Segovia, Seville, Soria, Toledo, Toro, Valladolid, and
Zamora.83 The cities were represented by procuradores, chosen according
to the traditions and practices of the individual cities. There was also a
standing commission (diputación) of two procuradores that watched over
the Cortes’s interests between meetings. The king, however, named the
president of the Cortes, who acted as the crown’s agent and communicated
his wishes to the assembly. The president was present for major votes but
did not vote. In addition to some legislative functions, the Cortes had the
right to approve or reject certain taxes.
Like similar bodies in England and France, the Cortes was usually called
only when the monarch needed money, and it would use those occasions to
try to protect or enhance its own power. It did not meet on a regular basis
in the sixteenth century, and the length of its meetings varied. It was called
fifteen times in the reign of Charles V and twelve times in the reign of
Philip II. Of those twelve meetings, three lasted more than two years
each.84 Prolongation of the meetings, with the attendant expenses, was a
royal tactic for pressuring the Cortes into voting the desired money. The
crown also attempted to influence the procuradores directly, particularly
by granting them various favors and rewards at the conclusion of sessions.
The Cortes had little influence on the major decisions of the crown, which
was often able to bypass it, and so its power was based more on obstruc-
tion and delay. However, it voted two of the most important sources of
royal income, the servicios and the encabezamiento of the alcabalas.85
There is a disagreement over the vitality of the Cortes and the extent of its
powers in the sixteenth century.86 However, the cities were still an impor-
tant part of the Spanish corporate state and a force to be respected.
Although consultation with the Cortes was regarded as essential in
levying new taxes, the crown often was able to evade it. In the early 1560s
the king introduced new taxes and increased others on his own initiative,
including custom duties and a royal monopoly on production and sale of
salt. Strictly speaking, these did not require the consent of the Cortes.87 In
both 1566 and 1570 the Cortes complained bitterly about the impounding
of silver shipments from the Indies and the failure to pay interest on the
juros, saying that such moves were destroying commerce.88 The Cortes of
1566 seems to have been the first to attempt to withhold servicios in order
to force repeal of the taxes. The Cortes of 1569 complained about the fact
that the crown had imposed new taxes and increased others without its
consent. In this, as in similar cases, Philip II invoked necessity.
The Cortes of 1573–75 had two sessions. The first met from April to
December 1573, when it was suspended. It reopened in May of the fol-
lowing year and was formally closed in September 1575. A great deal of
discontent surfaced during this time, and the Cortes used the occasion to
try to regain some of its former powers. This was centered not just on the
crown’s infringements on the Reino’s prerogatives but also on its general
fiscal policy, especially the asientos. During the first year, it dealt with the
crown’s plan to have the cities bring about the desempeño, primarily
through an increase of the encabezamiento of the alcabala. In return it would
give the cities the administration of the tax for thirty years. This would give
180 JUAN DE OVANDO
the cities control over the collection, but at the same time it deprived the
crown of control over its most important source of income.89 Among the
conditions that the Reino sought were perpetuity of the encomiendas and
a prohibition against exporting gold and silver. In the second session the
crown abruptly dropped the desempeño in favor of a flat increase in the
value of the sales taxes.90
The Cortes opened in Madrid on 26 April 1573 under the presidency of
Diego de Covarrubias y Leyva, bishop of Segovia, president of the Council
of Castile, and an outstanding jurist of his age.91 Two days later the Cortes
met with the king at San Lorenzo and heard his opening speech, called the
proposición, read by a secretary.92 The king described the seriousness of the
situation, which threatened to wipe out the entire hacienda. The crown pre-
sented no plan to the Cortes, leaving it to that body to find some way out of
the financial mess. The response came from the city of Burgos, which, after
fulsome praise for the king and his efforts on behalf of Spain and Christen-
dom, flatly stated that the cities did not have the money to help.
The first item of business was the voting of the servicios, which were
often used as a means of exacting concessions from the crown. The Cortes
voted in favor of the servicio but only after having listed conditions for the
grant—that the amount should be reduced in relation to the number of
patents of nobility that the crown had sold (these reduced the number of
taxpayers); that the crown not exceed the amount allotted; and that hence-
forth the spending of the servicio be in consultation with the diputación.93
Although the king and Covarrubias said only that the king would consider
the proposals, the crown later accepted them.94 On 10 June the procu-
radores voted the servicio extraordinario without any conditions.95 Twelve
days later, however, they appointed a watchdog committee to ensure that
no more of this money was handed over than had been voted.96 In August
the crown submitted a complex plan for the desempeño that would have
given the cities the administration of the encabezamiento of the alcabalas
and tercias for a period of thirty years. It would also have extended the
alcabala to additional items and would have granted the Cortes an
encabezamiento on the salt tax. It was a form of tax farming with the cities
as the farmers, and would have been profitable for the cities. Ovando
opposed this plan as impractical and was eventually able to swing royal
thinking against it.97 In the meantime negotiations over the plan would
occupy the Cortes for the rest of this session.
In September the Cortes formulated a series of demands that strongly

reflected the attitudes and needs of the cities. The Cortes wanted to turn
back the clock, seeking the suppression of all taxes that the king had estab-
lished without its consent. It wanted the encabezamiento of the alcabala
and tercias to be made perpetual. It also asked that the price of salt be low-
ered and that some guarantee be given that it would not continually rise.
In an even more drastic request, it sought a contract that would have effec-
tively stopped any further royal indebtedness and restricted some com-
mon sources of income, such as juros or the sale of lands or jurisdictions or
enclosures of common lands or exemptions from jurisdiction. The Reino
also asked for the right of cities to buy back exemptions from their juris-
diction that had been sold to neighboring towns and villages.98 It asked
that the king no longer permit the export of bullion except for his own
immediate needs, and it drew up a list of taxes that it wanted to have
repealed or lessened, together with a petition that the king promise not to
reimpose them.99 Additional requests included a lowering of certain taxes,
such as that on wool, perpetuity of the encomiendas in the Indies, and that
the king not encumber or mortgage any of the income sources that would
be freed by the desempeño.
The responses given by Covarrubias and his assistants on behalf of the
king were varied and often ambiguous.100 The encabezamiento of the alca-
bala and the tercias were granted for thirty years, with any increase in the
taxes going toward the desempeño.101 The Reino was given the encabeza-
miento of salt for a period of thirty years but under the same condition that
any increase would go toward the desempeño. As for the encomiendas, the
king declared that this matter had not yet been decided. Regarding the cre-
ation of new offices, the king promised to keep this in mind but said that a
final decision would have to wait for the completion of the desempeño. In
the same way he promised that there would be greater supervision and
control of the export of bullion. Finally, he declared that any doubts about
this matter would be adjudicated by members of his council, whom he
would appoint.
On 30 October the Cortes returned these responses to the crown for
reconsideration, on the grounds that they did not correspond to what had
been requested.102 The king made some additional concessions, most of
them relatively minor, such as extending the encabezamientos of alcabalas
and salt to forty years. He still refused to discuss the encomienda in the
182 JUAN DE OVANDO
Indies. The Cortes now began to emphasize that it was not a decision-mak-
ing body, that is, that the final decision would be made by the cities them-
selves, not their representatives. When Covarrubias indicated to the procu-
radores that this was the final royal response, the Reino voted to take the
matter to the cities for their verification.103 The king suspended the Cortes
on 13 December 1573.104
The suspension was extended three more times, and it was not until 31
May 1574 that the procuradores again presented their credentials.105 The
second session lasted until September 1574. Much had changed. The Cortes
now became more aggressive and demanding, and the discussions of 1574
were intense. The Cortes sought to exploit the worsening crisis. The two
sides were at an impasse, with each one presenting endless proposals and
counterproposals. On 15 June 1574 the Cortes reviewed the instructions
that the procuradores had received from their cities.106 Their reaction was
that the crown had not answered the request as it had been given. Some
cities agreed to the desempeño but added conditions. Others wanted
more mercedes than the crown had originally offered. Some cities wanted
the encabezamiento for longer than forty years and voted to ask the king
for a perpetual encabezamiento or, if that was not feasible, for as long as
possible.107
On 17 July two delegates of the Cortes met with Covarrubias and told
him that nothing could be accomplished until the floating debt and the
asientos were brought under control. The cities were willing to take on the
desempeño of the funded debt but only after steps had been taken to rem-
edy the floating debt.108 They also wanted to stop the speculation in juros,
suggesting that if speculators had already sold them at a profit, the king’s
debt to them should be discounted by the amount of the profit.109 The dele-
gates also stated that the floating debt would never be remedied as long as
the war in Flanders contained to drain money from the royal treasury.
They felt obliged to make the extraordinary proposal that the king seek to
make peace with the rebels.110 In the meantime, the Reino asked the king to
instruct the Councils of Castile and War and the generals in the field to
hold down costs as much as possible.
On 22 September 1574 the Cortes was abruptly notified that the crown
had dropped the plan for desempeño and had a new plan that called for an
increase in the encabezamiento of the alcabala.111 The reason given for this
was the disparity of the responses from the cities, which made any agreement
on the desempeño impossible. In essence this amounted to a sudden and

unexpected tax increase. The king wanted two and a half million ducados,
a sum beyond Castile’s capacity to produce. Through late 1574 the Junta of
Presidents negotiated with the Cortes, which resisted the inflated figure
presented by the king. This required all the diplomatic skill the members
had. Ovando began calling on old friends to help with the lobbying effort.112
The Cortes wanted to continue with the discussion of the desempeño. The
king remained adamant.113
On 16 November 1574 the Cortes gave provisional consent while trying
to reduce the sum to two million ducados. In January 1575 Ovando inten-
sified his campaign with the Cortes. When Salamanca delayed in respond-
ing, Ovando suggested writing to some of the city council members whom
he had known since his student days. Similarly, when the city council of
Granada proved recalcitrant, he wrote to the president, oidores, corregi-
dor, and all his friends there, “I am writing to the sons of friends that I had
there, renewing with them the friendship that I had with their fathers and
asking them very earnestly that they not delay any more in doing what His
Majesty orders.”114 Finally, on 22 February 1575, the Cortes reluctantly
voted the amount asked by the king.115
Philip II’s sum indeed proved too high and had to be readjusted in
1577.116 The two years of negotiations showed that the differences between
the crown and the Cortes were profound. In the first period the crown was
willing to yield the administration of its most important sources of income
in return for the cities’ redeeming its income and taking over the royal
debts. In the second period the king wanted a flat increase but one that was
spread over a wider tax base and had permanence.
The intense negotiations with the Cortes show that this body still had
power and was aggressive in using it. A subtext was its antagonism to for-
eigners, especially the Genoese. Salamanca told its procuradores that it
would not accept the desempeño unless it was agreed beforehand to expel
from the kingdom within the space of three or four years the foreigners
who did business in it, or at least that they be prevented from conducting
business as usual. Segovia asked that the king not deal with the Genoese
or other foreigners.117 It sought a drastic cutback in asientos and juros, if
not their complete abolition, or at least a lowering of interest rates. In many
ways they sought to restructure the whole hacienda. The crown, in contrast,
opted for more short-term solutions. Most of all, it wanted to find new
184 JUAN DE OVANDO
sources of income, in part by widening the tax base and assuring collec-
tion. Its proposals left the old system intact, especially the encabeza-
mientos, and did little or nothing to improve it. As one historian observed,
the crown’s immediate needs took precedence over a general overhaul of
royal finances.118
The Frustrations of the Junta

The first year of deliberations of the Junta of Presidents and the Cortes
produced nothing, and Ovando became increasingly critical. In a letter of
16 January 1574 he wrote that the junta’s meetings were of value but that
too much time was lost. He suggested reducing the number of meetings
and having the king attend at least one meeting a week. No important
decision, he said, could be taken without the king hearing the discussions
and arguments.119 It was a bold suggestion that went against established
practice. Royal attendance at meetings did not conform to Philip II’s mode
of government.
In July 1574 Garnica brought before the junta the question of juros that
investors, or speculators, had purchased from the Genoese at depreciated
prices but that were redeemable at face value. He suggested lowering the
rates on the bonds so that the speculators would not make a profit. Ovando
agreed and believed that such a reduction could save the crown some
800,000 ducados. The other members attacked the proposal violently, and
it did not come up for a vote. The reason, of course, was that some of the
councillors were among those who had purchased the depreciated bonds.
Ovando was incensed. “Interested judges should not be trusted,” he wrote,
and suggested that the king promulgate a general law prohibiting coun-
cillors or ministers from buying such things.120
Ovando also took the opportunity to voice his complaints about the
junta: “Nothing has been done that would have been worth three hours in
a council. And because there is need and haste, yesterday they were com-
plaining because two [meetings] were spent on the subject and there was
no way of avoiding another two today and so we who have spent so many
hours studying the remedy will go to the next world before we shed any
light on it.”121 A year later he complained that the outsiders brought to the
junta were no more competent than the members of the council: “Because
there has been no trust in me or all the ministers of the Hacienda, all these
matters have been carried to the Junta. . . . But of the three or four who
joined it, except for those who are or have been ministers of the Hacienda,
there was little reason to have confidence in their experience, which they
lacked.”122 In 1574 Ovando complained that “fourteen, fifteen months of
meetings, in which they have not done three hours work, are sufficient to
believe that the future will be the same.”123 In March 1575 Vázquez de Leca
complained to the king that although the members were well intentioned,
“for most of the these days almost all their time has been wasted in doing
nothing and instead of facilitating the business on which, after God, every-
thing depends, they bring forward specters and terrible difficulties.”124
When it was suggested to Ovando that one of the accountants of the Coun-
cil of Finance be brought to the meetings to help with the encabezamiento,
he vetoed the proposal on that grounds that it would mean another nega-
tive voice.125
That work on the Council of Finance had its lighter moments is evident
from an incident that occurred on 30 April 1575. Juan de Cuadros, who had
the reputation for being a jokester, read a report in the council that sounded
quite serious but was soon recognized as a parody. While Ovando appar-
ently enjoyed the jest, he wrote that he read the report very carefully before
concluding that it was not meant to be taken seriously.126 The line between
parody and reality was perilously thin.
Ovando vented some of his frustrations to Vázquez de Leca in a letter
of 20 May 1575.127 He was upset by a letter from the king to his secretary in
which he urged Ovando to greater haste in supplying money to various
royal needs. Ovando replied that he did not need any urging, since he
thought about nothing else day and night. That, he added irritably, was
more than the other ministers did or were capable of doing. “If I were
given ministers with whom I could work, eventually it could happen that
we would get around to dealing with what now has no remedy, and cer-
tainly I feel that God will go on forsaking it because of such an enormous
sin as is given license and authorizes this devilish profit and usury.”128 In
particular, at every available minute, he (Ovando) was taking care of the
payments for Italy, Oran, the galleys, and the armada of the west coast that
left every hour. He carried a manual with him that he studied continually.
If the rest of the year was like this, “this is sufficient death knell to wipe
out this crown.” Vázquez de Leca’s comment was, “[W]hen I consider . . .
what happens in this Council, I have to go hide myself and weep.”129
186 JUAN DE OVANDO
Others noted a change in the council president. Fernández de Espinosa

told Vázquez de Leca that he found Ovando “changeable and diminished
and like a man full of fear.”130 Though the documentation is not clear, it
seems that Ovando may have moved to or near the Escorial and hence was
surrounded by the factionalism and backbiting of the court. Vázquez de
Leca, for one, was eager to have him move away.131
In 1575 Ovando found himself facing two of the same challenges that he
had the previous year, closing the fair at Medina del Campo and coordi-
nating a seizure of bullion at Seville with a declaration of bankruptcy. In
February the king issued a cédula closing the fair but suspended it after
the city protested. Ovando wrote four letters to the king between 18 and 25
May. If the fair was closed, he said, he could provision Flanders within
twenty days and then a general solution could be worked out.132 Vázquez
de Leca forwarded these letters to the king and suggested that he accept
Ovando’s solution. Ovando indicated that if the king did not agree imme-
diately to closing the fair, he saw no need to pursue the matter, because,
having given his opinion, he had fulfilled his duty. “I no longer have the
strength to fight these things,” he wrote.133
Ovando’s attempt in the previous year to simultaneously suspend pay-
ment on debts and confiscate the treasure fleet had been frustrated. He
hoped for a better result in 1575, but this too was frustrated. After more
than a year of discussion the decree of suspension was signed on 1 Sep-
tember 1575.134 It was announced to the Cortes on 15 September, by which
time Ovando was dead. Lovett believes that in its final form the decree was
the work primarily of the king and that Ovando and the junta had little
impact on it.135 Ovando’s condition that the decree should coincide with
the seizure of the bullion was not met, so that the admission of bankruptcy
was not accompanied by any increase of crown wealth. The immediate
result was dislocation in the financial markets and panic in both Spain and
Genoa.136 A general settlement was not reached until 1577, after two years
of acrimonious negotiations.137
The long-range effects of the bankruptcy were harmful, not only to
Spain but also to all of Europe. It was far more disastrous than either that
of 1560 or the later one of 1596.138 The impact of the sudden increase in the
encabezamiento was felt mostly in Castile. It adversely affected on the
Castilian economy and wiped out many merchants. Together with poor har-
vests, it contributed to a general recession that turned a growing economy
into a declining one.139 The crown found itself unable to pay its army in
Flanders, a fact that helped to lead to “the Spanish Fury,” the sack of
Antwerp by unpaid soldiers, in November 1576. The events of 1573–75
probably made any settlement with the Flemish rebels impossible and lost
Flanders to Spain. There can be no doubt that the blunders of 1574–75 had
profoundly negative effects on the Castilian economy. Ovando did not see
any of this, for he died on 8 September 1575.
OVANDO’S CONTRIBUTIONS
At some unknown date a friar named Francisco de Córdoba wrote to
Philip II about the grievances of the king’s subjects. The king referred him
to Ovando, who granted him an interview. Fray Francisco said that the
people had grievances in five areas: the alcabala, the sale of public lands
(which may refer to communal pastures), the sale of ecclesiastical jurisdic-
tions, and the monopoly on missals and breviaries. Ovando asked the friar
what should be done. Fray Francisco replied that the alcabala should be
reduced, the lands of cities should not be sold, the salt tax should be one
real per fanega (equivalent to 1.58 bushels) and the monopoly should be
abolished, and church jurisdictions should no longer be sold. He added
that many poor clerics and religious had given up the recitation of the bre-
viary because they could not afford the books. In rebuttal Ovando pointed
out that the king required palaces, councils, and ministers, all of which cost
some 400,000 ducados; that the king had to protect the realm at a cost of
600,000 ducados; that galleys and warships cost more than a million duca-
dos; that a standing army against the Turks and Moors cost two million;
and that another army fighting against heretics cost two million. The poor
friar was overwhelmed by the flood of statistics and admitted that the king
was obliged to do all these things.140
The incident is revealing for several reasons besides the fact that the
president of the Council of Finance intimidated the good friar. That the
friar was granted such an interview at the king’s request shows the extent
to which the Spanish crown paid service—lip service if naught else—to its
role as the distributor of justice. Through his discussion with fray Francisco
and all the discussions of the juntas and councils, Ovando never seriously
suggested that the crown needed to curtail its spending. He accepted as a
given that the king had a right and need to continue expenditures as he
188 JUAN DE OVANDO
had before. Despite their crushing financial burden, Ovando believed that
the wars in the Low Countries and the Mediterranean were necessary for
the survival of the monarchy and the advancement of Catholicism. He
sought a remedy for the royal financial plight by lobbying for reorganiza-
tion and rational structure in both the financial organism and the structure
of government. Though much of the indebtedness had been inherited from
Charles V, Ovando did nothing to restrain the free-spending policies of his
monarch, and therein probably lay his greatest failure in the area of finances.
In the years after Ovando’s death there were some who viewed him as
among those who were incompetent in financial matters.141 In January 1578
Antonio de Padilla, president of the Council of Finance, wrote a report on
the council for Philip II. The report indicated that little had changed or
improved in the intervening years and continued, “[I]n truth, Ovando
knew little about finance. Being already of considerable age . . . and having
no help from his ministers, he was not able to enter thoroughly into the
science[,] . . . and neither Juan de Ovando nor, I believe, anyone can learn
this in old age.”142 Padilla had his own motives for this harsh judgment,
but in substance it was true. Ovando never wanted the presidency of the
council and had to begin the study of finances at what was in that century
an advanced age. He put his faith in rational organization and efficient
handling of business and seemed to have little concern for the burden on
the lower classes.
CHAPTER TEN
The King’s Good Servant
A
fter the death of Cardinal Espinosa in 1572 Philip II and his
advisers began searching for a replacement as president of the
Council of Castile. Ovando seemed to be the best qualified candi-
date. Cabrera de Córdoba described him as, “president of the Council of
the Indies, close to being that of Castile, truthful, upright, qualified,” but
then quickly added that “the only thing against him was that he was so
involved in the affairs of his office that it would hurt them.”1 Ovando was
not chosen. Three years later, however, Archbishop Moya de contreras wrote
of hearing a rumor that Ovando had been named archbishop of Santiago
and president of the Council of Castile.2 It is difficult to verify if there was
any basis to that rumor. None of the documents in the Archivo General de
Simancas, Quitaciones de Corte, makes any reference to such appoint-
ments. On the contrary on 4 June 1574 Pope Gregory XIII named the bishop
of Málaga, Francisco de Blanco, archbishop of Santiago.3 Buenaventura
Delgado’s notes on the colegiales of San Bartolomé mention Ovando’s
appointment as president of the Council of the Indies and state, “afterwards
in 1574 he was appointed to the royal council [postea anno 1574 creatus con-
silii Regis].”4 It would certainly have been an extraordinary appointment,
since Ovando was still technically a member of the Suprema and the pres-
ident of both the Council of Finance and the Council of the Indies. There is
no reference to such an appointment in the extensive correspondence
between Ovando and Vázquez de Leca at this time. The royal cédulas con-
cerning Ovando’s will and burial refer to his presidency of the Indies and
Finance but say nothing about the Council of Castile, nor is there a mention
190 JUAN DE OVANDO
of it on his tombstone. It is possible that the appointment was contem-

plated but never implemented.
Little is known about the causes of Ovando’s death. In 1571 he had a
spell of bad health, but nothing specific was mentioned.5 On 14 April 1575
he wrote to Vázquez de Leca that he had been ill with catarro and its atten-
dant fevers.6 A few days later a certain Arrellana, who may have been
Ovando’s secretary, wrote to Vázquez de Leca that Ovando was ill with a
small abscess (apostemilla) on his face.7 On the same day Ovando wrote to
Vázquez de Leca that he had not been well for two days.8 A few days later
Ovando wrote that he was feeling better because he had been working on
a difficult project, apparently sent by the king’s secretary.9 On 28 April 1575
Ovando again wrote to Vázquez de Leca about his health. He had an
abscess, but the surgeon assured him that he would soon be better. On the
same day he held meetings of the Councils of the Indies and Finance.10
Ovando’s death was not unexpected. He began settling his affairs in
early September 1575. Years of dedication to the royal service left him with
nothing but debts. Spanish sovereigns were not noted for their generosity
or gratitude to their servants. Service and sacrifice were expected as mat-
ters of right. Philip II is reputed to have said that he preferred to do more
for the dead than for the living.11 His officials were often paid inadequate
salaries, and many, like Ovando, died in real or borderline poverty or
heavily in debt. It was at that point that the king would seek to make some
restitution. This was true in Ovando’s case.
Six days before his death Ovando wrote to Philip II to ask for money to
clear his debts,12 which were contracted in the royal service, and he gave a
history of both his debts and his service. On 4 August 1564, he wrote, he
left Seville for the visita of the University of Alcalá de Henares. The visita
lasted two and a half years, during which he was paid nothing by the
crown. He received little or no salary from his posts as canon, provisor, and
inquisitor of Seville because he was not in residence.13 Since he had to sup-
port himself and his servants, this was the beginning of his indebtedness.
He listed a total of 5,400 ducados for debts incurred during the visita of the
Council of the Indies. He mentioned both Juan de Ledesma and Juan
López de Velasco, who had served on the visita, as witnesses.
As president of the Council of Finance, Ovando said, he had worked for
a year and a half “with great effort and to the extent of [his] capacities” and
deserved the same salary as the presidents of the other councils.14 “I have
THE KING’S GOOD SERVANT 191
no other estate from which to pay my debts and obligations which afflict
my soul and what there is [is] in order to do good for my soul,” he
wrote.15 He suggested that the king delay naming a successor to the pres-
ident of the Council of the Indies—and in fact it was four years before a
new president was named—and let those functions be exercised by the
senior councillor.16 The money saved could be used to reimburse his
creditors.17 This was a rather remarkable statement for someone so
devoted to good order.
On 4 September Ovando completed his will and had it notarized. Four
days later the royal notary, Juan de Mitarte, wrote, “[A]fter ten o’clock at
night I saw the most illustrious señor Juan de Ovando, president of His
Majesty’s Councils of Indies and Finance . . . and the next day, the eighth
of the said month, early in the morning, I saw him dead, and many persons
who were at his end and death said that he died at two in the morning.”18
That is all that is known about the final illness and death of Juan de Ovando.
The abscess may have been cancerous, but there is no way of knowing for
sure. Ovando died at the house of Diego Ramírez in Madrid, where he had
been lodging.
Ovando’s will was registered in Madrid on 4 September 1575. The
executors were Diego Mejía de Ovando, knight of the order of Alcántara,
licenciado Alonso Martínez Espadero of the Council of the Indies, frey
Diego de Ovando of the order of Alcántara, and Juan de Ledesma,
Ovando’s secretary in the visita of the Council of the Indies and at that
time its notary (escribano de cámara).19 All of these men had long been asso-
ciated with Ovando. In his will Ovando left instructions that he be buried
in the cemetery of the church of Santa María, his parish in Madrid. It was
almost unheard of for a high official of the crown or any person of rank to
be buried in a cemetery rather than in a church. His executors considered
the request a sign of humility, “more to be praised than carried out,” and
set it aside with the permission of Philip II.20 The body was taken to Cáceres,
where a more appropriate tomb was built in the Ovando family church of
San Mateo. He was buried there on 15 September 1575.21 The epitaph reads,
“Here lies the señor licenciado don Juan de Ovando, great-grandson of
Captain Diego de Ovando de Cáceres, fellow of the colegio mayor of San
Bartolomé of Salamanca, president of the Councils of the Indies and
Finance on which he served simultaneously during the reign of the Catholic
King don Felipe II. He died on 8 September 1575.”22 It is instructive that
192 JUAN DE OVANDO
his family ties and the fact of being a bartolomico rated a mention on his
tomb on a par with his presidency of two royal councils.
In one of the clauses of his will Ovando directed that every year on All
Saints’ Day (1 November) one high mass and ten low masses should be
celebrated for his soul, for the souls of the dead to whom he had an obliga-
tion, and for all the souls in purgatory.23 On the Feasts of Saint Bartholomew
(24 August), Saint Anthony of Padua (13 June), and Saint Julian (probably
the archbishop of Toledo whose feast was celebrated on 6 March), one high
mass should be sung “for the celebration and commemoration of the said
saints to whom I have always been and am devoted and because they have
been and in order that they may be my advocates for my salvation.”24 It was
his intention that this would be paid for with the income from the sale of his
goods. His brother Antonio and Antonio’s son Francisco were given respon-
sibility for seeing that these masses were said. It was also Ovando’s intention
to establish a chaplaincy at San Mateo for the celebration of these masses,
with the chaplain being the priest who was most closely related to him.
Ovando died so poor that there was insufficient estate to take care of his
servants and other obligations.25 At a later date, probably after 1589, Philip
II granted 1,000 pesos from the Nuevo Reino de Granada, paid to Juan de
Ledesma, the sole surviving executor, to be used for both the chaplaincy
and the adornment of Ovando’s tomb.26 In 1593 Ledesma used the money
to purchase a juro based on the income from the alcabalas of Cáceres to
establish a chaplaincy in the church together with certain conditions and
obligations for saying the masses.27 The income in 1593 and 1594 amounted
to 65,200 maravedís. Four hundred ducados of income from the first year
of the juro were to be used for the erection of an arch above the tomb and
a bust of Ovando together with an inscription. Today the tomb has an arch
but no bust.
As happened so frequently in that litigious age, this gave rise to numer-
ous lawsuits that continued into the following century.28 After the chap-
laincy had been set up and the first chaplain named, the clergy of Cáceres
laid claim to it, alleging that Ledesma had failed to carry out his mandate
within the allotted time.29 On 30 December 1595 Philip II issued another
cédula validating everything that Ledesma had done and forbidding any
further interference, giving as the reason for Ledesma’s inaction the delay
in receiving the money from the Indies.30 On 4 December 1612 Ledesma
turned over all of his rights to the chaplaincy and its income to Diego de
Ovando y Torres.31 This did not end the lawsuits, however. The question
arose as to which of Ovando’s relatives was entitled to hold the chaplaincy.
This question was still under litigation as late as 1632.32
In his will Juan de Ovando named his brother Antonio de Ovando as
sole heir.33 Antonio requested an inventory of Juan’s estate on 15 Novem-
ber 1575. Three inventories were taken: the chapel, goods already sold and
their prices, and books.34 The inventory of the chapel was surprisingly long
and included among the furniture a clavichord. Of the goods sold, it
appears that there were two coaches and two mules and two globes and an
astrolabe. Everything else was ordinary household furniture.
Antonio benefited little from his borther’s will. On 3 March 1576 the
Council of the Indies voted to pay to Ovando’s heir 146,708 maravedís.35
Ten days later the council noted that because of Juan de Ovando’s services
and Antonio’s need, the king had decided to grant the latter 1,000 pesos
from the situación of licenciado García de Castro in Peru, to be paid during
the lifetime of Antonio and that of his eldest son, Francisco.36 A royal
cédula from Madrid on the 28 March decreed “that because in view of the
many and very outstanding and important services that the late licenciado
Juan de Ovando did for us,” Antonio was to receive 1,000 pesos from a
royal encomienda.37 The encomiendas in question were Belille and Gua-
naquito in Cuzco.38 On 3 September 1577 Philip II issued a cédula from the
Escorial ordering the payment of the equivalent of one year of Ovando’s
salaries to the executors.39 Four days later the Council of the Indies noted
“[T]o the heirs of the said Juan de Ovando was given the free [encomienda]
for a second year.”40 On 5 October the Council of the Indies ordered the pay-
ment of one year’s salary to the executors.41 Antonio died on 10 May 1583.
In 1584 his descendants were seeking some 74,043 reales in payment.42
If a man’s books tell us of his character and personality, then the 363
titles in Ovando’s library deserve careful study.43 Not surprisingly for a
jurist and administrator, almost 40 percent were legal texts. They dealt not
only with Roman and canon law but also with Spanish law, such as the
Siete Partidas and the fueros of Castile and Aragon. As an inquisitor
Ovando possessed a copy of the Malleus Malificarum, the notorious manual
of court procedures in cases of witchcraft. This is rather surprising in view
of the Spanish Inquisition’s hands-off attitude toward supposed witches.
The second largest group comprised theological works, a comprehensive
collection that included Arias Montano’s commentary on the twelve minor
194 JUAN DE OVANDO
prophets and several medieval theologians, among them Antoninus of Flo-

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

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

“I am the king’s good servant but God’s first.” Thomas More’s final words
from the scaffold are justly famous as exemplifying not only the courage of
his stance but also the agonizing choice between two loyalties that had
been forced on him. Juan de Ovando would not have understood the need
to make such a choice. To him, as to his fellow letrados, to serve the king
was to serve God. There could be no conflict between the two. Philip II
himself believed that what he did was God’s work on earth.47 “There’s
such divinity doth hedge a king,” said Hamlet’s uncle, and that sentiment
was fitting for the court of Philip II. It had a highly religious character, both
in its practices and in the way it was viewed by its courtiers.48 Philip was
truly the Catholic king (rey católico). He was also the source of all authority
and all patronage, both church and state. Although he was often bored
with the ceremonial surrounding his person and preferred a simple lifestyle
and dress, Philip II could at the same time intimidate even the strongest of
men by his inscrutability, nearly inaudible speech, and stoic manner.49 His
empire was theocratic in the sense that Spain’s grandeur was also God’s
196 JUAN DE OVANDO
glory; the kingdom of Spain was the kingdom of God. The king resided in
the Escorial, the ministers and councils in Madrid. Even for them, Philip II
was a distant and aloof presence. The principal means of communication
were the consulta and reports and memorials, and all of these were fun-
neled to the king through Mateo Vázquez de Leca. There is only one, sure
recorded instance of Ovando’s having a personal audience with the king.
Ovando’s approach to administration fitted perfectly with Philip II’s devo-
tion to paperwork and detail.
This study supports the more traditional concept of Philip II’s mode of
government: the slowness of communication, the delays in responding to
crises, personal indecision, reluctance of ministers to take responsibility,
fiscal crises, the king’s failure to delegate, the conflicting and overlapping
jurisdiction of governmental agencies, the compartmentalization of infor-
mation and administration, the careful parceling of information to subor-
dinates, a Castilian centralism, peninsularity, factionalism, and conflict of
interest and inexperience on the part of councillors. Unfortunately for
Castile, “confuse and rule” engendered as much confusion as rule. Philip’s
administrative style was, in modern parlance, one of “reaction strategy”
or “crisis management.” He generally did not take a proactive role. Most
problems were dealt with only after they had become acute.
The system of councils, inherited from medieval precedents, was not
adequate for the needs of the sixteenth century, at least in the cases of the
Indies and Finance. The primary reason for this was the ignorance and lack
of experience of the persons called to serve on the councils. It is instructive
that two historians, separated by almost forty years, described these two
councils in the same terms. Ernesto Schäfer called the records of the Coun-
cil of the Indies “all this chaos”; Lovett called the Council of Finance “a
model of chaos.”50 One can see why Ovando was obsessed with the idea of
reorganization and structuring, for it was the only way to guarantee that
the conciliar form of government would work. In this study the inadequa-
cies of the Council of the Indies and the Council of Finance stand out.
Ovando’s visita of the Council of the Indies uncovered a high level of cor-
ruption and cronyism, but the overriding difficulty was the councillors’
ignorance of the New World. Ovando and others tried to persuade the
king that the members, or at least the president, should have some experi-
ence in the Indies and that he should appoint oidores and other officials to
the council, but Philip II refused. In the Council of Finance, as well, the
members, with the possible exception of Francisco de Garnica, knew little

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

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

Reformation and the Council of Trent strongly influenced their outlook.
For them, as for their king, the reform and vitality of the church was the
primary goal. This reform, however, was to be according to accepted, regal-
istic style. Philip II professed devotion to the pope, but that did not pre-
vent his restricting papal power in his kingdoms. The boundaries between
church and state were blurred but with the state holding the controlling
hand. The Catholic Church in the Spanish empire was a national church,
but in a collaborative as well as an administrative sense. In some ways the
aims of Trent and those of the crown coincided, for example, the enhance-
ment of the role of the bishop, the control of the religious orders, the regu-
larization of ecclesiastical government and practice, the calling of provin-
cial councils, and improving the quality of the clergy.
Despite the immense number of documents that Ovando penned or
received or that were written about him, there is much in his life that is
elusive: his early education, when, where, or to what orders he was
ordained, his relationship with the many putative relatives who helped
him in his work, how he came to be provisor of Seville, how he first
attached himself to Diego de Espinosa, and whether he was president-
elect of the Council of Castile. Similarly, we know little about the purpose
and nature of the web of clients formulated by Diego de Alderete in
Seville or about the way in which Espinosa gained the confidence of the
king so quickly.
Our knowledge of Ovando as a person is also limited. Much of his
prodigious energy and ambition probably resulted from his father’s ille-
gitimacy and his family’s humble circumstances. He had a mania for
organization and order. He wrote to Mateo Vázquez, “[Y]ou know how I
hate to be idle.”52 His early relationship with Mateo Vázquez is the only
sign of an affective aspect in his character, and that eventually receded. Not
enough is known of his personal life to attempt any sort of psychological
profile. One receives the impression that letrados like Espinosa, Ovando,
Moya de Contreras, and Vázquez de Leca had no private lives, only pro-
fessional ones, that there was no “man behind the man.” This is not true,
but existing documentation gives us only the royal servant, not the human
being. Apparently Ovando’s workaholic attitudes and attention to detail
could grate on or at least weary his coworkers, as demonstrated in
Vázquez de Leca’s comment, “[T]here are many of us in the world just as
200 JUAN DE OVANDO
imperfect.”53 Juan del Castillo, bishop of Cuba, wrote, “I learned never to

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

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

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

Sixteenth Century
T
he basic unit of coinage and the one against which all others were
measured was the maravedí, a fictional standard of value which did
not circulate as currency. The coins most commonly in circulation
were the peso and real. Each peso was divided into eight reales and twelve
granos.
1 peso de oro de minas = 450 maravedís

1 ducado (5/6 of oro de minas) = 375 maravedís
1 peso de oro = 450 maravedís
1 peso de oro común = a silver coin worth 272 maravedíes or 1 peso
of silver
1 peso de tepusque = same as one peso de oro común (tepuzque, from
Nahuatl tepoztli, meaning copper, bronze, iron, or metal in general).
Gold mixed with copper = 272 maravedís.
1 silver peso = 8 reales.
1 real = 12 granos
1 real = 1 tomín. In the sixteenth century tomín often referred to
money in general, especially in Nahuatl.
Glossary
Actas Official written records or minutes of meetings.

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

specified repayment dates and were usually
pledged against crown revenue.
Audiencia Highest court of appeals in a district. In the New
World it also had administrative duties and
served as a council for the viceroys.
Auto de fe Public ceremony in which the sentences of the
Inquisition were pronounccd. In English-lan-
guage histories it is often given in the Portuguese
form, auto-da-fé.
Auto de tentativa In Spanish universities a first-stage examination.
Bachiller Holder of a bachelor’s degree. Less common and
more prestigious in the sixteenth century than at
present.
Bartolomico Fellow (colegial) of the Colegio Mayor de San Bar-
tolomé at the University of Salamanca.
Beca University scholarship.
Becario The recipient or holder of a beca.
Bedel Town crier for Spanish universities; he also acted
as a master for ceremonies for certain occasions.
Beneficiado Holder of a benefice (beneficio), any ecclesiastical
office to which an income was attached.
Bienes raíces Real property, immovable goods.
Caballero Knight, member of the intermediate nobility. A
knight ranked above a hidalgo.
Cabildo 1) Chapter of canons.
2) Municipal council.
3) Building in which the council met.
Calificador Theologian whose duty it was to evaluate
writings and propositions for heresy.
Cámara de Castilla (1518) Dealt with matters of patronage in Castile, that is,
the appointment of bishops and beneficiados. It
was originally a sort of council within the Council
of Castile: its president was the president of that
council together with three senior members. It
was reorganized in 1588, apparently receiving a
greater degree of independence.
Cambiador Person who handled international financial
transactions.
Canónigo magistral Official preacher of a cathedral chapter.
Capellán Chaplain; cleric who received a stipend from an
endowment in return for saying a specified
number of masses.
GLOSSARY 209
Capitulación Agreement or contract, specifically one that

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

Finance, which was responsible for the overall
administration and care of the treasury, especially
the collection and expenditure of royal revenues.
Converso Convert from Judaism or Islam to Catholicism;
used mostly in reference to Jewish converts and
their descendants.
Cortes Representative body of the principal cities of
Castile. It had the right to vote on certain taxes.
Also called reino.
Criollos Creoles; persons of Spanish blood born in the
New World.
Cruzada Tax or offering levied originally to finance wars
against the Moslems, in return for which the
offerer received indulgences and spiritual bene-
fits. By the sixteenth century it was used to sup-
port the expenses of empire.
Cura Parish priest.
Dehesa Pasturelands.
Desempeño Process of unburdening or removing mortgages
from crown income.
Deuda consolidada Funded debt.
Deuda suelta Floating or running debt.
Doctrina Parish consisting of recently converted Indians
but no longer in a strictly missionary status or yet
a part of the diocesan structure.
Encabezamiento Payment of taxes, usually by the cities, in a lump
sum rather than over the course of years.
Entrada Military expedition or penetration of native
territories.
Entrée to a council by a nonmember.
Escribano Notary or secretary in legal and judicial cases.
Escribano de cámara Notary of the Council of the Indies.
Excomunión Excommunication; ecclesiastical penalty whereby
a person was barred from receiving the sacra-
ments and participating in public worship. An
excomunión mayor barred him from all church
actions, including Christian burial. Excomunión
menor was not so drastic. The penalty was used
more frequently in the sixteenth century than in
modern times.
Excusado Tax on ecclesiastical income from sources that were
not exclusively religious, such as seigneurial dues.
GLOSSARY 211
Familiares Deputies or police agents of the Inquisition, often

an honorary post.
Servants in general.
Feria Financial fair, usually the one held at Medina del
Campo, at which loans and interests rates were
negotiated.
Fiscal In general, a crown attorney whose special func-
tion was to promote and defend royal jurisdic-
tion. In the Council of the Indies he was to have
special concern for the Indians and the poor.
Flota Convoy, specifically those that sailed between
Seville and the New World.
Fray Title used with the name of a member of a mendi-
cant order.
Frey Title used with the name of a member of one of
the military orders.
Fuero Charter of privileges and rights, usually belonging
to cities.
Grande Highest rank of nobility in Spain, with the right
to wear a hat in the king’s presence and be
addressed by him as “cousin.”
Hacienda Global term for the royal treasury or financial
administration.
Hidalgo Member of the lowest rank of nobility.
Hidalguía Patent of nobility.
Entredicho Interdict; ecclesiastical penalty by which religious
services were forbidden in particular districts or
churches.
Juez de comisión Investigative official appointed for a specific
case
Junta ad hoc as opposed to standing committee. A
group of experts called together for a specific
task or purpose.
Juro Long-term, interest-paying bonds, issued by the
crown. The interest formed a kind of annuity and
was guaranteed by a lien on a specific crown
revenue, such as a sales tax.
Juro al quitar Juro redeemable at a particular date rather than
being perpetual.
Juro de heredad Juro de por vida that could be inherited.
Juro de por vida Juro redeemable at the end of a lifetime.
Juro de resguardo Juro that carried additional collateral as a guaran-
tee against default, together with the right to sell
212 GLOSSARY
part or all of the collateral before repayment by

the crown.
Juro situado Juro based on a specific source of revenue. Situado
meant that the income was burdened or mort-
gaged in advanced of being collected.
Letrado Holder of a law degree, a professional civil
servant.
Licenciado Holder of the degree of licentiate, intermediate
between bachelor and doctor. A law degree.
Limpieza de sangre Certification that one had no Jewish or Moorish
blood or descent from a person penanced by the
Inquisition, a presupposition for doctrinal
orthodoxy.
Marqués Marquess, marquis, margrave. Title of nobility,
usually ranked below a duke.
Medio general Period of settlement or negotiation during which the
repayment of the crown’s debts were renegotiated.
Merced Royal favor or grant.
Oidor Judge of an audiencia.
Oposición Public competition for an office, especially an
ecclesiastical one.
Patronato real Congeries of rights and privileges that regulated
the relations between church and state in the
Spanish empire.
Pechero Taxpayer, one who did not belong to one of the
tax exempt classes.
Penitenciado One who has been penanced or punished by the
Inquisition.
Principal Indian noble. A village leader or official.
Procurador 1) One who had the legal right by delegation to
act in the name of another.
2) Representatives who defend the rights and
privileges of cabildos (both municipal and
ecclesiastical), cities, and religious orders. Did
not need to be a trained attorney.
Provisión 1) Order given by a tribunal that accompanied a
royal decree and directed that it be implemented.
2) Act of conferring an office, such as a benefice.
Provisor Chief ecclesiastical judge of a diocese, sometimes
also the vicar general.
Quintal Measure of weight, about 100 pounds.
Quinto Royal share of the gold and silver mined in the
colonies, theoretically 20 percent but varying.
GLOSSARY 213
Reconciliados por diminutos Persons accused by the Inquisition who made

partial confessions and were reconcilied.
Reino 1) Kingdom, a division of the Spanish empire,
usually one with its own audiencia.
2) Cortes of Castile.
Relator Clerk in the Council of the Indies who was
responsible for gathering and arranging petitions
and other papers.
Sambenito Distinctive garb, resembling a chasuble, worn by
those reconciled or condemned by the Inquisition.
Servicios ordinario y Taxes, usually voted by the Cortes and paid by
extraordinario nonexempt taxpayers (pecheros). The burden
usually fell on the lower classes.
Síndico Official who collected court fines but also acted as
a public defender for any organization or corpo-
ration, such as a university.
Subsidio Tax on ecclesiastical income, usually 10 percent,
also know as décima and cuarta.
Suprema Supreme governing council of the Inquisition in
Spain.
Tercias King’s share of the tithes amounting to two-
ninths of the total.
Tierras Baldías Common lands.
Títulos High-ranking nobility in Spain, just below
grandes.
Visita General or specific investigation of governmental
operation or abuses.
Visitador Office in charge of conducting a visita.
Notes
ABBREVIATIONS
BL British Library, London, United Kingdom
AGI Archivo General de Indias, Seville, Spain
AGS Archivo General de Simancas, Simancas, Spain
AHN Archivo Histórico Nacional, Madrid, Spain
AHP Archivo Histórico de Protocolos, Madrid, Spain
ASCM Archivo de la Santa Catedral Metropolitana, Seville, Spain
AUS Archivo de la Universidad de Salamanca, Salamanca, Spain
IVDJ Instituto de Valencia de Don Juan, Madrid, Spain
CHAPTER 1
1. La vida de Lazarillo de Tormes, 147–201.
2. Brenan, The Literature of the Spanish People, 170.
3. Lynch, Spain under the Habsburgs, 1:4.
4. “Hapsburg administration had treated justice as the highest attribute of
sovereignty” (Taylor, Magistrates of the Sacred, 13).
5. On this aspect of kingship, see Thompson, “Absolutism in Castile,” V. 74.
6. Parker, Grand Strategy, 21–26; Parker, Philip II, 26, which has a diagram of
the conciliar structure; Williams, Philip II, 64–70. A good description of the working
of some of the councils (State, War, Castile, Cámara, Military Orders, Finance,
Cruzada, Inquisition) can be found in Ulloa, La hacienda real, 50–67.
7. Ulloa, La hacienda real, 59.
8. In addition to these, Williams (Philip II, 67) lists the Council of Navarre,
1525, which Parker does not.
9. See Braudel, The Mediterranean, 2:676, 677; Williams, Philip II, 4, 46–50;
Lynch, Spain under the Habsburgs, 1:3.
216 NOTES TO PAGES 7–11
10. On the medieval background of the letrados, see Maravall, “La forma-
ción.”
11. See Haliczer, Comuneros, 108.
12. Quoted in Kamen, Philip of Spain, 177.
13. Koenigsberger, “The Politics of Philip II,” 185. Braudel also has a favorable
evaluation: “Although much criticized, the Spanish Empire was equal or indeed
superior to other leading states for transport, transfer, and communications” (The
Mediterranean, 1:372). Braudel also has a benign view of the delays and slowness in
Spanish imperial administration (1:374).
14. Elliot, Spain and Its World, 14. He goes on to quote the memorable com-
ment of a viceroy: “If death comes from Madrid, we shall live to a very old age.”
15. On Philip’s preference for written communications, see Parker, Grand
Strategy, 20.
16. On the awe that Philip inspired and the quasi-religious nature of court cer-
emonial, see Lynch, Spain under the Habsburgs, 1:185; Parker, Grand Strategy, 15–17.
17. Maltby, Alba, 49, 67. Kamen says that Philip’s administration was, like oth-
ers of his time, “a jungle of bitter personal rivalries and open corruption” (Philip of
Spain, 214). On Philip’s efforts to be independent of the aristocracy, see Williams,
Philip II, 40.
18. Martínez Millán, “Un curioso manuscrito”; Parker, Grand Strategy, 57. The
document was drawn up by Espinosa before his death and edited by Mateo
Vázquez in 1573.
19. Martínez Millán, “Introducción,” 17–18.
20. Carlos Morales, “Grupos de poder,” 110.
21. Martínez Millán and Carlos Morales, “La administración de la gracia
real,” 30–34; Martínez Millán, “Grupos de poder,” 140.
real,” 33. On Gómez de Silva, see Boyden, The Courtier and the King.
23. On the ebolista struggle for the control of the Council of Finance, see
Carlos Morales, “El poder de los secretarios reales, 130–33.
24. Boyden, The Courtier and the King, 50.
25. Ibid., 107.
26. Martínez Millán, “Grupos de poder,” 173. Boyden has an interesting and
enlightening summary of the historiography of the Alba-Eboli conflict (The Courtier
and the King, 91–97).
27. Eboli and Alba also had differing views on the role of the king. See Williams,
Philip II, 35–36.
28. See Ulloa, La hacienda real, 764–66.
29. On this process, see Boyden, The Courtier and the King, 128–38.
real,” 40; Boyden, The Courtier and the King, 129–30.
31. Maltby says that Espinosa was originally an ebolista, that his appointment
to the Council of State around 1566 was a blow to Alba, and that he supported a
NOTES TO PAGES 11–15 217
policy of accommodation in the Netherlands (Alba, 75, 132). An opposing view is

held by Carlos Morales (“Grupos de poder,” 135) and Martínez Millán (“Grupos de
poder,” 181).
32. The idea of the imposed religious culture has been most thoroughly
explained and defended by Martínez Millán, “Introducción,” 13–35.
33. Ibid., 33.
34. Martínez Millán and Carlos Morales also believe that after Espinosa’s
death the nobles regained control of the government, with the exception of the
Council of the Indies, and speak of Epinosa as the “last letrado” to hold top posi-
tions in the Council of Castile and the Inquisition (“La administración de la gracia
real,” 42). This seems to ignore the continued dominance of Ovando and Vázquez
de Leca.
35. A good study of ordinary religious practice as found in a somewhat lim-
ited sphere is Christian, Local Religion.
36. For further examples, see Kamen, The Spanish Inquisition, 255–57.
37. Kamen, Spain, 1469–1714, 177: Christian, Local Religion, 14.
38. An excellent study of the impact of the Council on Trent on a specific area
of Spain is Nalle, God in La Mancha.
39. For an overview of the patronato, see Shiels, King and Church.
40. One thinks of Giuseppe Verdi’s opera Don Carlo or the novel and movie
Captain from Castile. The nadir of this historical distortion is found in the musical,
Man of La Mancha.
41. For an excellent brief summary of the early years of the Spanish Inquisi-
tion, see Lynch, Spain under the Habsburgs, 1:20–28.
42. For a brief description, see Roth, Conversos, 9, 10.
43. Valdeón Baruque, “Los orígenes de la Inquisición,” 39.
44. Sicroff, Los estatutos, 45–46; Roth, Conversos, 11, 115; Monsalvo Antón,
Teoría y evolución, 259, 280.
45. Roth rejects the widely accepted idea that these disturbances led to con-
versions through fear; rather, he believes that almost all conversions at this time
were the result of sincere conviction (Conversos, 34–35, 44, 133–34). Monsalvo Antón
accepts the more traditional interpretation that many of the conversions were the
result of fear and force (Teoría y evolución, 280), as does Netanyahu, Toward the Inqui-
sition, 196. Domínguez Ortiz considered the disturbances true massacres that led to
forced conversions (Los Judeoconversos, 15).
46. Sicroff, Los estatutos, 43, 47, 51; Roth, Conversos, 133–50.
47. Roth, Conversos, 114; Monsalvo Antón, Teoría y evolución, 282–86.
48. According to Rábade Obradó, most contemporaries of Fernando and
Isabel believed that there was danger from the Jews and conversos. Even those
who were sincere Christians were suspected of insincerity (Una élite de poder, 21).
Roth, in contrast, says, “It must be understood once and for all: conversos were not
‘crypto-Jews’; they were Christians, who chose completely to separate themselves
from the Jewish people, and not just from the Jewish ‘faith’” (Conversos, 320).
49. Sicroff, Los estatutos, 51–56; Roth, Conversos, 88–92. The statute never
received royal approval (Domínguez Ortiz, Los Judeoconversos, 81).
50. Gutiérrez Nieto, “La estructura castizo–estamental,” 524–25.
51. For general treatments of the concept, see Domínguez Ortiz, Los Judeocon-
versos; Sicroff, Los estatutos; Monsalvo Antón, Teoría y evolución; Kagan, Students and
Society, 90–91; Kamen, Inquisition and Society; Bataillon, Erasmo y España; 699–700, n.
2; Rábade Obradó, Una élite de poder; Roth, Conversos; Valdeón Baruque, “Los orí-
genes de la Inquisición,” 35–45; Gutiérrez Nieto, “La estructura castizo–estamen-
tal”; Gutiérrez Nieto, “Los humanistas castellanos”; Dedieu, “¿Pecado original o
pecado social?” 61–76; Dedieu, “Limpieza, pouvoir et richesse”; Caro Baroja, Los
judíos en la España, 2:167–390.
52. Kamen believes that the statutes had fallen out of style by the mid-sixteenth
century and were generally ignored (Philip of Spain, 33). On the contrary, the reign of
Charles V (1516–1556) seems to have been characterized by a strong anti-converso
feeling in Castile.
53. Domínguez Ortiz, La clase social, 62.
54. Ortiz, Los Judeoconversos, 94.
55. Sicroff, Los estatutos, 120. A history of the Seville statute can be found in
Domínguez Ortiz, La clase social, 63–64.
56. Cited in Domínguez Ortiz, Los Judeoconversos, 96.
57. On the background and history of this statute, see Caro Baroja, Los judíos
en la España, 2:276–80; Domínguez Ortiz, La clase social, 37–50; Hernández Franco,
Cultura y limpieza, 27–30. On opposition to it, see Domínguez Ortiz, La clase social,
280–85.
58. Netanyahu, Origins of the Inquisition, 272–73.
59. This was many years after its foundation. The statute is quoted in full in
Caro Baroja, Los judíos en la España, 2:271–72. The author calls it a “classic model”
of such statutes.
60. This listing is taken from Kamen, “A Crisis of Conscience.”
61. Netanyahu states, “By the time Siliceo [sic] began his campaign, no con-
verso served as bishop, archbishop, or cardinal” (Origins of the Inquisition, 1066). It
might be more accurate to say “no known converso.” He adds, “[N]or, with rare
exceptions, could conversos be found in high posts of the royal administrations,
such as those of royal councillors, major judges, governors, or corregidores” (ibid.).
Contrast this statement with Kamen’s: “In terms of career a converso could nor-
mally study at any university or occupy a chair, enter into any civil or commercial
profession, serve in the armed forces, occupy posts in the central and in most
municipal government, obtain a noble title, or enter the Church and rise to become
bishop” (“A Crisis of Conscience,” VII. 4).
An interesting example of the inconsistency of the limpieza de sangre statutes
is found in the life of Hernando Ortiz de Hinojosa, ordained as a diocesan priest in
1568. He had a distinguished career as professor at the Royal and Pontifical Uni-
versity of Mexico, a canon of the cathedral chapter of Mexico, rector of the hospital
of Santa Fe, and theological consultor to the Third Mexican Provincial Council of
1585. In 1592, however, when he sought a position with the Mexican Inquisition, it
was discovered that his parents were conversos and that his grandmother had been
punished by the Inquisition and his mother reconciled by it. His career seemed to be
at a standstill, but in 1596, despite his ancestry, he was named bishop of Guatemala.
He died in 1598 before taking possession of his post. See Ramírez González, Grupos
de poder clerical, 46–41, 93–99.
62. For the position of the Inquisition, see Sicroff, Los estatutos, 118 n.101.
According to Lea, in 1547 the Inquisition refused to hear complaints about
Moriscos serving as familiares (History of the Inquisition, 2:294, 295). Kamen writes,
“The Inquisition itself followed an ambiguous policy: although it always insisted
on the inability of condemned persons and their descendants to hold office, it did
not itself exclude conversos, condemned or otherwise, until as late as 1550, and
only in 1572 did it draw up strict rules on entry to the Holy Office” (“A Crisis of
Conscience,” 3).
63. Domínguez Ortiz, Los Judeoconversos, 99. For a history of these statutes in
the various religious orders, see Sicroff, Los estatutos, 102–19.
64. Kamen, “A Crisis of Conscience,” 13.
65. For an excellent survey, see Kamen, “A Crisis of Conscience,” passim.
66. Kamen, Inquisition and Society, 120. On opposition to Silíceo’s statute, see
Sicroff, Los estatutos, 134–38; Caro Baroja, Los judíos en la España, 2:280–85.
67. Kamen, Philip of Spain, 33–34. For a detailed analysis of how the statute
came into being, see Jones, “Constantino Ponce de la Fuente,” 401–4. Domínguez
Ortiz says simply that the statute did not receive royal approval (Los Judeoconversos,
81), but Kamen says that Philip approved it in August 1556 after he became king
(The Spanish Inquisition, 238). Elsewhere Kamen calls Philip’s approval belated (“A
Crisis of Conscience,” 4).
68. Kamen, Inquisition and Society, 120.
69. Dedieu, “¿Pecado original o pecado social?” 63; see also Roth, Conversos,
230.
70. Roth, Conversos, 314.
71. Monter, Frontiers of Heresy, 322.
72. Homza rejects any racial element in the Inquisition’s persecution of sus-
pected Judaizers: “It is problematic to equate the inquisitors’ attention to conversos
with racial anti-Semitism, because inquisitors focused on signs with religious
import. . . . The inquisitors were acting out of anti-Judaism” (Religious Authority,
100–101).
73. Kamen also believes that the divide between new and old Christians was
more political than racial. The tensions between the two groups “seem to have
served only to benefit an elite that wished to protect its monopoly of power and
influence” (“A Crisis of Conscience,” 2).
74. The laws of limpieza of the order of Santiago, 1480, mentioned “infamy”
(Roth, Conversos, 231). The same concept lay behind the prohibition against
ordaining Indians and castas to the priesthood in New Spain. See Poole, “Church
Law on the Ordination of Indians and Castas.”
75. The demands of pure bloodlines are comparable to the requirements in
some European monarchies that high positions in the military could be held only
by those who were able to prove several generations of noble lineage.
76. Domínguez Ortiz, Los Judeoconversos, 59; Contreras Contreras, “Linajes y
cambio social,” 118, 120. The latter quotes the famed comment of Saint Teresa of
Avila that honors and riches always go together.
77. Though the converso descent of Antonio Pérez’s father has been disputed,
most evidence seems to favor it. See Caro Baroja, Los judíos en la España, 2:18.
78. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, from Madrid, 30 April 1575, IVDJ, Madrid,
envío 24, caja 37, f. 70.
79. Lovett, “The Inquisition under Close Scrutiny,” 709–10.
80. Keen, “Approaches to Las Casas,” 5, 6.
81. Friede, “Las Casas and Indigenism,” 196, 197.
82. Kamen, Philip of Spain, 33, 60–61.
83. Padden, “The Ordenanza del Patronazgo,” 345, note 26.
CHAPTER 2
1. Lovett, Early Habsburg Spain, 249.
2. See LeFlem, “Cáceres, Plasencia y Trujillo,” 254–55; Altman, “Spanish
Hidalgos,” 324. In 1557, the date of the first reliable survey, the city had 1,401 heads
of households (vecinos). From this Lovett estimates 6,305 persons (Early Habsburg
Spain, 249).
3. Altman, “Spanish Hidalgos,” 325. The latter is the best summary of the
position of the provincial nobility in Cáceres as well as of the descent and activities
of the Ovando family.
4. Orti Belmonte, La vida en Cáceres, 85–89.
5. Altman, “Spanish Hidalgos,” 324. On the Ovandos, see also Muñoz de San
Pedro, El capitán Diego de Cáceres Ovando, 99–101; Lodo de Mayorgal, Viejos linajes,
180–81, 185; Orti Belmonte, Los Ovando.
6. For his biography, see Muñoz de San Pedro, El capitán Diego de Cáceres
Ovando.
7. On Nicolás de Ovando, see Lamb, Frey Nicolás de Ovando. On the earlier
history of the family, see 24–25, 30.
8. All of the following information is taken from the investigation into Juan
de Ovando’s limpieza de sangre, January 1546, and is based on testimonies in AUS,
unnumbered, Colegio de San Bartolomé: Expedientes de alumnos, 1546–1552: Juan
de Ovando, ff. 34r–58r. The testimonies varied in details. The information given
here has been collated from the points of agreement.
9. Lodo de Mayorgal, Viejos linajes, 180–81, gives the name of Francisco’s
mother as Catalina de Godoy and says that there was another illegitimate son,
Antonio, the progenitor of the Ovandos of Las Navas. This Antonio was actually
the son of Francisco and elder brother of Juan de Ovando. The name of Catalina de
Godoy, though found in some histories, is certainly incorrect. In his introduction to
the Memorial de Ulloa, on the basis of a conversation with José de la Peña Cámara,
Lodo de Mayorgal gives the name as Elena Sánchez. See Memorial de Ulloa, 18.
10. The author of the Memorial de Ulloa, 177v, tried to cover up the story of the
illegitimacy by making Francisco the son of the captain. This fabrication was
refuted by Muñoz de San Pedro, El capitán Diego de Cáceres Ovando, 99–101. Lockhart
has pointed out, “Spaniards of the medieval and modern periods had a whole set of
social practices concerning the innumerable illegitimate children their system pro-
duced. The fully recognized child would grow up in his father’s house and receive
almost the same education as the legitimate heirs” (The Men of Cajamarca, 139).
11. According to law 12 of the Laws of Toro, a bastard, even if legitimated,
could not inherit if there was subsequent legitimate offspring. See Llamas y
Molina, Comentario, 1:153–54. It is interesting that Juan de Ovando did not use his
grandfather’s arms, which were primarily of a military nature. His arms, insofar as
they can be discerned from sculpture on his tomb and the few surviving seals, con-
tained two bears and a sword.
12. Her name is sometimes given as Juana de Aguirre or Leonor García de
Aguirre. See Martínez Quesada, “Documentación,” 140; and Altman, “Spanish
Hidalgos,” 345. In his will Juan de Ovando founded a chaplaincy that became a
bone of contention among his relatives for a number of years. In 1635, in one of the
lawsuits over it, Antonio de Solís claimed that Leonor García de Aguirre, Juan’s
mother, was the daughter of Juana García de Aguirre, the elder, who was herself
the daughter of Jerónimo García Pulido and Juana García. The papers of this law-
suit are in the archive of the Casa del Sol, the residence of the Precious Blood
Fathers in Cáceres, and were made available to me by Father Evelio Tábara Del-
gado. It has also been asserted that Francisco de Ovando was made a Comendador
de Belvís of the military order of Alcántara (which was very prestigious in western
Extremadura). See Martínez Quesada, “Documentación,” 140; and Lodo de May-
orgal, Viejos linajes, 185. However, in his edition of the Memorial de Ulloa, 18, Lodo
de Mayorgal points out that this was due to confusion between two different Fran-
cisco de Ovandos. There is no evidence that Juan de Ovando’s father was given
such an honor, and it seems improbable for a poor farmer.
13. IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 103. Díaz y Pérez says that he was born in Mérida
(Diccionario), 2:187. This may result from confusion with Juan’s older brother, Anto-
nio, who lived in Mérida toward the end of his life.
14. AUS, San Bartolomé, f. 41v.
15. AUS, San Bartolomé, ff. 41r–v. A land owning farmer or peasant (labrador)
could sometimes be rather well off. See Domínguez Ortiz, The Golden Age of
Spain, 149.
16. On 11 February 1574 Ovando wrote to Mateo Vázquez de Leca, Philip II’s
secretary, that he was sorry to hear of the death of the marqués del Adrada, whose
servant he had once been. IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 72. The marqués was principal
majordomo to Philip II’s fourth wife, Anna of Austria (Cabrera de Córdoba, Histo-
ria de Felipe II, 2:122). Nothing more is known about this.
17. The dates for this and his acceptance can be found in an interesting though
sketchy report on Spanish universities and their graduates that was commissioned
by Cardinal Diego de Espinosa at an unknown date. It is to be found in IVDJ, envío,
caja 127, unfoliated. On the history of San Bartolomé, see Carabias Torres, Colegios
mayores, 2:392–421.
18. AUS, Colegio de San Bartolomé: expedientes de alumnos, 1546–52, f. 44r.
For a treatment of the infractions of the statute on poverty, see Carabias Torres,
Colegios mayores, 2:497–508. Bell comments that the statutes on poverty were not
always observed, “and more attention came to be paid to the purity of a scholar’s
descent than to his poverty” (Luis de León, 69). See also Roxas y Contreras, Historia,
chap. 1, par. 23.
19. All the colegios mayores at Salamanca required a bachelor’s degree as a
prerequisite for admittance. See Carabias Torres, Colegios mayores, 2:491.
20. Orti Belmonte, La vida en Cáceres, 73. As mentioned in note 11 above, San-
cho de Paredes declared that there was a Juan de Ovando at Salamanca in 1546.
Another witness, García de Paredes Perera, declared that Juan was a student at
Salamanca. The Libro de matrículas of the university for 1546–47 (AUS 267) contains
8,053 names, among which I was unable to find a single Ovando. Still, it seems
likely that he pursued his courses in artes at Salamanca.
21. Espinosa report, IVDJ, envío 90, caja 127. It is interesting that it is the only
entry that does not give any information on the family background of the indi-
vidual named.
22. For a detailed description of life at Salamanca, see Bell, Luis de León, 60–84.
23. Lascaris Comneno-Bescansa Aler, Colegios mayores, xiv.
24. Kagan, Students and Society, 65.
25. Lascaris Comneno, Colegios mayores, xiv; Carabias Torres, Colegios mayores,
2:631.
26. The basic source of information on Anaya and the early years of San Bar-
tolomé is Ruiz de Vergara y Alava, Vida. See also Carabias Torres, Colegios mayores,
2:392–400, 405.
27. The original Latin of the statutes says “1500 moropetinorum.” Twelve
maravedís was the figure given for 1536 by Martín Hernández, La formación clerical,
92, apparently a typographical error. The original figure increased markedly over
the years until it reached 12,000 in Ovando’s day.
28. Roxas y Contreras, Historia, chap. 1, par. 47.
29. Carabias Torres, Colegios mayores, 2:514–15.
30. This was in statute 14. Carabias Torres speculates that these words were
interpolated into the papal bull of approval of the colegio (Colegios mayores, 2:512–13),
a conclusion also reached by Netanyahu, who compared the printed version of the
bulls with the originals in the Vatican Archives (Netanyahu, Origins, 1103–5).
31. For a fascinating discussion of the question, see Sicroff, Los estatutos, 117
n.101. See also Netanyahu, Origins, 272–73; Révah, “La controverse,” 263–306.
Anaya’s statute was renewed and strengthened on 15 July 1507, adding Moriscos
to the forbidden category.
32. Without citing a source or elaboration, Bell says that between 1480 and
1600 San Bartolomé produced three cardinals, sixty-six bishops and archbishops,
two viceroys, one grand inquisitor [sic], and five prime professors of canon law
(Luis de León, 70).
33. On this spirit of “caste,” see Carabias Torres, Colegios mayores, 2: 863–83.
34. Roxas y Contreras, Historia, chap. 1, par. 23, 28; Carabias Torres, Colegios
mayores, 2:405, 486.
35. Carabias Torres, Colegio mayores, says that the cloak was black but adds
that little is known about the dress of the bartolomicos. Bell says that it was a
brown cassock or gown with a brown stole (Luis de León, 70). This would have been
very similar to the dress of the rest of the students at Salamanca.
36. Carabias Torres says that mutton and veal were the only meats served,
and she also analyzes the nutritional value of the meals (Colegios mayores, 2:804,
806–9).
37. Roxas y Contreras, Historia, chap. 1, pars. 22, 29, 35, 70.
38. AUS, Libros de Matrículas, libro 268 (1551–52), f. 15r; 269 (1552–53), f. 10r;
271 (1554–55), f. 10r; 272 (1555–56) f. 8v. In libro 270 (1553–54), f. 11v, Ovando is
listed as a legista but not licenciado. There is a four-year gap in these records. In 1551
there were seventeen colegiales and seven familiares at San Bartolomé.
39. In AUS, Libros de matrículas, the word p[resbíter]o was placed behind the
names of priests.
40. AUS, libros de matrículas, libros 268 (1551–52), f. 45v; 269 (1552–53), f. 41r;
270 (1553–54), f. 44v.
41. Espinosa report, IVDJ, envío 90, caja 127.
CHAPTER 3
1. Morales Padrón, “La Ciudad del Quinientos,” 135. Chanu, Seville et
l’Atlantique, is a monumental study of Seville and the Atlantic trade in the six-
teenth and first half of the seventeenth century. Earlier but still valuable accounts
are Ortiz de Zúñiga, Anales; and Morgado, Historia de Sevilla. See also Ruth Pike,
“Seville in the Sixteenth Century.”
2. Morales Padrón, “La Ciudad del Quinientos,” 79–82.
3. Kamen, Spain, 98. For differing figures, see Morales Padrón, “La Ciudad
del Quinientos,” 65; Aspe Ansa, Constantino Ponce de la Fuente, 54; Pike, “Seville in
the Sixteenth Century,” 2; Elliot, Spain and Its World, 18. Despite the differences, the
estimates are in substantial agreement, especially regarding the explosive popula-
tion growth.
4. Ortiz de Zúñiga, Anales, bk. 15:518–23.
5. Pike, “Seville in the Sixteenth Century,” 16–17, 24–25.

6. Aspe Ansa, Constantino Ponce de la Fuente, 58; Pike, “Seville in the Sixteenth
Century,” 18.
7. On Fernández de Santaella, see Hazañas y la Rúa, Maese Rodrigo.
8. Morales Padrón, “La Ciudad del Quinientos,” 26.
9. González Novalín, Valdés, 168–69; Morales Padrón, “La Ciudad del Quin-
ientos,” 92–95.
10. González Novalín, Valdés, 169.
11. Ibid., 170.
12. Morales Padrón, “La Ciudad del Quinientos,” 250.
13. González Novalín, Valdés, 169; Aspe Ansa, Constantino Ponce de la Fuente,
52–53.
14. González Novalín, Valdés, 185–87.
15. Ibid., 257.
16. The literature on Valdés, his career, and his fall is abundant. See Gon-
zález Novalín, “El Inquisidor general don Fernando de Valdés,” in Historia de la
Inquisición, 538–56; González Novalín, “Reforma de las leyes”; Martínez Millán,
“Grupos de poder,” 137–97; Pizarro Llorente, “Las relaciones de patronazgo,”
226–39.
17. González Novalín, Valdés, 224–28, enumerates instances of this.
18. González Novalín, Valdés, 173–77, tries to show that Valdés was a reformer.
19. Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 702; Kamen, Philip of Spain, 73, 80.
20. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, ff. 28r–30r. The appointment was given
at Salamanca and signed by Valdés and his secretary, Fortuno de Ibargüen.
González Novalín states, incorrectly, that Ovando was president of the Council of
the Indies at the same time (Valdés, 167). Valdés’s correspondence with Ovando on
the day-to-day administration of the archdiocese of Seville can be found in IVDJ,
envío 91, caja 130.
21. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, f. 28r.
22. Ibid., f. 29r.
23. Ibid., libro 19, f. 85.
24. These two letters have not been found. They are mentioned in a letter from
Philip II to Valdés, 27 July 1556, AGS, Secretería de Estado, leg. 114, f. 165, which
quotes the letter from Charles V. See González Novalín, Valdés, 190. They are also
mentioned in Valdés’s response of 22 August 1556, AGS, Patronato Real, leg. 28, f.
58. The letter of Charles V was dated 2 November 1555. The date of Philip’s letter,
which was sent from La Coruña, is not known.
25. There is an undated copy of this letter in AGS, Secretería de Estado, leg.
114, f. 165.
26. On this, see Boyden, The Courtier and the King, 72–75.
27. Williams, Philip II, 36.
28. Kamen, Philip of Spain, 73. The source is letters and memorials to the king
in AGS, Secretería de Estado, leg. 129, ff. 110–12, 128.
29. Lea, History of the Inquisition, 2:305; Suprema to the Inquisition of Seville,
19 February 1562, AHN, Inquisición, libro 575, f. 126. González had been sent either
to make a visitation of the Inquisition of Seville or as local inquisitor to put it in
order. His first letter from Seville is dated 23 December 1558. See AHN, Inquisición,
libro 2942, núm. 52. He made a number of enemies. Part of his commission was to
inspect the Inquisition’s jails, about which he gave a negative report. See Suprema
to Inquisition of Seville, from Valladolid, 11 July 1559, AHN, Inquisición, libro 575,
f. 81r and v. González presided at the auto de fe of 24 September 1559. AGI,
Secretería de Estado, leg. 137, f. 2.
30. On 11 January 1563 Ovando asked the cathedral chapter for payment for
the time missed from choir while he was occupied with business in the castle of
Triana. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 24, f. 121r.
31. On Egidio, see Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 524–27.
32. Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 526; González Novalín, Valdés, 183. AHN,
Inquisición, 2942, núm. 78, contains extracts of the process against Egidio, drawn
up on 11 September 1559.
33. González Novalín, Valdés, 183, 188.
34. Reginaldus Gonsalvius Montanus [Reinaldo González de Montes], Sanctae
inquisitionis hispanicae artes aliquot detectae (Spanish trans., Artes de la Inquisición
española); Marcelino Menéndez y Pelayo, Historia de los heterodoxos. Both are tenden-
tious and at times unreliable. On the Montes book, see Castrillo Benito, El “Reginaldo
Montano”; he deals with Constantino on 72–77. Reginaldus Montanus appears to
have been a pseudonym for two Spanish reformers, a certain licenciado Zarpa and
Cassiodoro de Reina, a former Hieronymite living in Geneva. See Pérez Villanueva,
“La historiografía de la Inquisición española,” 8. Other references are Boehmer, Bib-
liotheca Wiffeniana, 2:3–40; Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 529–45; Aspe Ansa, Constan-
tino Ponce de la Fuente; Ponce de la Fuente and Gracián de la Madre de Dios, Beatus
Vir, 52–59. The papers on the case can be found in ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro
23, ff. 28r–76v. For another view regarding the identity of Gonsalvius Montanus,
see Jones, “Constantino Ponce de la Fuente,” 9–11.
35. Menéndez y Pelayo, Historia de los heterodoxos, 5:81–103, appendix 2:6–11.
González Novalín bases his entire account on that of Menéndez y Pelayo. See
González Novalín, Valdés, 196–200.
36. A special problem is encountered with the documentary appendix (appen-
dix 2 in the edition used for this work). The transcriptions contain inaccuracies, but
more irritating for the researcher is the author’s habit of not separating his own
explanatory comments from the quotations from the documents. For a brief sum-
mary of Menéndez y Pelayo’s historical method and his attitude toward heresy, see
Jones, “Constantino Ponce de la Fuente,” 26–33.
37. Bataillon, Erasmo y España, esp. 522–40.
38. Aspe Ansa, Constantino Ponce de la Fuente, 23–24. Many details and quotations
from documents that are not otherwise known are given by Benítez de Lugo, “Con-
stantino Ponce.” Unfortunately, he gives no sources, so the citations are unreliable.
39. A thorough and balanced treatment of Constantino and his teachings is

Jones, “Constantino Ponce de la Fuente.”
40. Aspe Ansa estimates that the year was about 1502 (Constantino Ponce de la
Fuente, 31).
41. A letter of the Supreme Council of the Inquisition to the Inquisition of
Seville, from Valladolid, 13 January 1559, speaks of a genealogy that Constantino
submitted (AHN, Inquisición, libro 565, f. 72v). Unfortunately, it has not been found.
42. ASCM, Actas capitulares, libro 23, f. 56r.
43. Menéndez y Pelayo, Historia de los heterodoxos, 5:appendix 2:6. Bataillon,
Erasmo y España, 527.
44. Ortiz de Zúñiga, Anales, bk. 3:374; Maltby, Alba, 42. Both Aspe Ansa (Con-
stantino Ponce de la Fuente, 65) and Ortiz de Zúñiga mistakenly give the date as 1534.
45. Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 528; Aspe Ansa, Constantino Ponce de la Fuente,
12; Kamen, Philip of Spain, 43.
47. The minutes of the cathedral chapter of Seville, 12 May 1556, say that the
offer was the canongía magistral of Seville (esta prebenda) without any competitors.
See ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, f. 55; Menéndez y Pelayo, Historia de los het-
erodoxos, 5:appendix 2:13. González de Montes (Artes, 303) says that it was in Toledo,
as does Bataillon (Erasmo y España, 523). Boehmer says that Constantino also refused
a canonry in his home diocese of Cuenca (Bibliotheca Wiffeniana, 2:10). For a detailed
analysis of this incident see Jones, “Constantino Ponce de la Fuente,” 404–5.
48. González de Montes, Artes, 309.
49. Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 523. Only Boehmer says that Constantino was
not talking about his Jewish lineage (Bibliotheca Wiffeniana, 2:10). In 1557 the
Suprema received a denunciation from a friar in Seville, dated 22 January, that
accused Constantino of being a confeso (AHN, Inquisición, libro 575, f. 57v). On the
question of his ancestry, see Jones, “Constantino Ponce de la Fuente,” 405–11, 413.
50. Exposición del primer psalmo de David cuyo principio es Beatus vir, dividido en
seys sermones (Seville, 1546). For a modern translation and analysis, see Ponce de la
Fuente and Gracián de la Madre de Dios, Beatus Vir. For another analysis, see
Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 530–34.
51. Suma de doctrina christiana en que se contiene todo lo principal y necessario que
el hombre christiano deue saber y obrar (Seville, 1543); Confessión de un pecador penitente,
seguida de dos meditaciones de Fr. Luis de Granada (Evora, 1554). For a description and
analysis of these works, see Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 534–40. The third work, Cat-
echismo christiano para instruir a los niños, was published at Seville in 1546 and 1556.
52. According to González de Montes, Artes, 306.
53. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, ff. 38v–39r.
54. Ibid., f. 40r; Menéndez y Pelayo, Historia de los heterodoxos, 5:appendix
2:6–7. This is one of the instances in which Menéndez y Pelayo paraphrases rather
than transcribes the document. He mistakenly gives Ovando’s first name as Fran-
cisco (94).
55. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, f. 40r; Menéndez y Pelayo, Historia de
los heterodoxos, 5:appendix 5:7. Although this entire transcription by Menéndez y
Pelayo is enclosed in quotation marks, it is actually part quotation and part para-
phrase.
56. Next to it someone wrote Vala esto (let this be enough, or no need to go fur-
ther). ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, f. 41v. See Menéndez y Pelayo, Historia de
los heterodoxos, 5:appendix 2:7, where again quotation and paraphrase are mingled.
57. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, f. 42v; Menéndez y Pelayo, Historia de
los heterodoxos, 5:appendix 2:7. He paraphrases this section, mistakenly saying that
it was all the canons in major orders who approved the credentials.
58. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, ff. 48v–49v; Menéndez y Pelayo, Histo-
ria de los heterodoxos, 5:appendix 2:7–8.
59. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, ff. 50v–51r; Menéndez y Pelayo, Histo-
ria de los heterodoxos, 5:appendix 2:8–9. This transcription is unusually faithful to the
source.
60. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, f. 51v. The minutes for this meeting go
from f. 51r to f. 52v. They have been transcribed almost in full by Menéndez y
Pelayo, Historia de los heterodoxos, 5:appendix 2:9–11, but with a number of errors.
los heterodoxos, 5:appendix 2:10.
64. González de Montes appears to have accepted the truth of this accusation,
although the Inquisition of Seville later had difficulty proving it (Artes, 317).
66. The minutes for this meeting cover ff. 53r to 57v of ASCM, Actas Capitu-
lares, libro 23; Menéndez y Pelayo, Historia de los heterodoxos, 5:appendix 2:12–17.
Unfortunately, his transcription is garbled and confusing. The following account is
based on the originals.
67. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, f. 54r. Aspe Ansa deals with this in
Constantino Ponce de la Fuente, 80–85, but there seems to have been an editorial
error in these pages. All the citations of the Inquisition section of the AHN are
incorrect.
69. Ibid., f. 54v.
70. Ibid., f. 55v–56r; Menéndez y Pelayo, Historia de los heterodoxos, 5:appendix
2:14.
73. Ibid., f. 56v.

74. Ibid., ff. 56v–57r. The minutes say that there was no contradiction by any-
one present.
75. Ibid., f. 57v.
76. Ibid., f. 60v–61r; Menéndez y Pelayo, Historia de los heterodoxos, 5:appendix
2:18–19.
los heterodoxos, 5:appendix 2:19. Lombard’s Sentences were the standard medieval
text in theology.
78. On Carpio, see Espinosa Maeso, “Don Miguel de Carpio; Márquez, Liter-
atura e Inquisición, 128–31.
79. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, ff. 133v–34r; Menéndez y Pelayo, His-
toria de los heterodoxos, 5:appendix 2:21.
80. The inquisitorial process against Constantino has never been found. Much
of what follows is based on the copies of letters sent by the Suprema to the Inqui-
sition of Seville. These are in AHN, Inquisición, primarily in libro 575.
81. Cited in Aspe Ansa, Constantino Ponce de la Fuente, 79; AHN, Inquisición,
libro 575, f. 36v; Suprema to Inquisition of Seville, from Valladolid, 22 January 1557,
AHN, Inquisición, libro 575, f. 57v.
82. Jones, “Constantino Ponce de la Fuente,” 444.
83. It is also given by Llorente (A Social History, 220), but it is possible that he
got it from González de Montes. The date is given by Diego Suárez to Diego
Laínez, one of the first members of the Society of Jesus, in a letter published by Sala
Balust, Obras completas del Santo Maestro Juan de Avila, 1:198 n.34. It is also the date
given by Jones, “Constantino Ponce de la Fuente,” 477.
84. AHN, Inquisición, libro 565, f. 91v, contains a letter from the Suprema,
from Toledo, 15 January 1560, which is in deteriorated condition and difficult to
read. It seems to indicate that Constantino’s case was still under judgment. It is the
only reference to him by the Suprema between 9 November 1559 and 20 February
1560. ASCM, Libro de entradas, f. 44v, says that Constantino died in late 1559, but
it is doubtful that the secretary of the chapter had access to precise information on
the matter.
85. Suprema to the Inquisition of Seville, from Toledo, 20 February 1560,
AHN, Inquisición, libro 565, f. 95v. This letter contains the first mention of Juan
González de Munébrega, bishop of Tarazona, in reference to the case.
86. For the differing stories on Constantino’s supposed suicide, see Menéndez
y Pelayo, Historia de los heterodoxos, 5:101, n. 2; Cabrera de Córdoba, Historia de Felipe
II, 1:276; Ortiz de Zúñiga, Anales, 15:522; Aspe Ansa, Constantino Ponce de la Fuente,
11–12. Valera called those who propagated the story “sons of deceit.” The accusation
of bigamy, a crime that was popularly associated with Judaizers, came later. See
Kamen, Inquisition and Society, 198. The first evidence of it is found in a draft letter
of Ovando to Philip II in 1573 in IVDJ, envío 76, caja 102, ff. 458r–460v. Jones (“Con-
stantino Ponce de la Fuente,” 100) quotes a letter from the Inquisition headquarters
in Valladolid, 19 May 1558: “Enclosed we send the investigations which the inquisi-
tors of Granada have conducted over the marriages of Dr. Constantino.” Since
there is no other reference to plural marriages until 1573, this passage should per-
haps not be taken too literally.
87. Ortiz de Zúñiga, Anales, 15:522, says that they were encased in the effigy.
González de Montes’s account is less clear on the point (Artes, 324–25, 329). The
account of the auto by the Suprema simply says that the statue and bones were
relaxed to the secular arm (AHN, Inquisición, 2075, no. 4).
88. Ortiz de Zúñiga, Anales, 15:522.
89. Kamen, Philip of Spain, 73, 80; Dedieu, L’Administration de la foi, 289.
90. Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 699. See also Kamen, Inquisition and Society,
chap. 5.
91. Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 708–9.
92. Kinder believes that Constantino’s teachings presented “a remarkable
affinity” to those of Luther (Casiodoro de Reina, 8). Kinder’s treatment of Constan-
tino is very brief and relies too much on González de Montes.
93. Aspe Ansa, Constantino Ponce de la Fuente, 73, 79–80.
94. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, 2 September 1556, libro 23, ff. 85v–86v; libro 24,
f. 58v.
95. IVDJ, envío 76, caja 102, ff. 458r–460v.
96. Ibid., f. 458v.
97. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, ff. 88r–v, 89r–91v, 97v; libro 24, ff. 24r–v;
libro 23, f. 98r, 99r.
98. Ibid., libro 23, f. 100v.
99. Ibid., libro 26, ff. 22r–23v.
100. Ibid., libro 23, f. 67r.
101. Ibid., f. 69v. There is a reference to this case in a letter of Valdés to Ovando,
from Valladolid, 12 November 1556, IVDJ, envío 91, caja 130, f. 208.
102. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 23, ff. 105r–v.
103. Ibid., libro 26, f. 193v.
104. Meeting of 6 October 1564 and meeting of 16 October 1564, ASCM, libro
27, ff. 99v, 104r.
105. Minutes of the meeting of 21 October 1556, ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro
23, f. 100v.
106. Ibid., f. 102r; Valdés to Ovando, from Valladolid, 12 November 1556, IVDJ,
envío 91, caja 130, f. 208.
107. Valdés to Ovando, from Valladolid, 12 November 1556, IVDJ, envío 91,
caja 130, f. 208.
108. According to ASCM, Libro de Entradas, ff. 59, 80, Ibargüen became a
medio racionero in April 1560 and racionero on 31 December 1560. According to
the capitular minutes, however, Ovando intervened on behalf of Ibargüen’s candi-
dacy for medio racionero on 30 December 1560, ASCM, libro 25, f. 98v. Valdés’s let-
ter of appointment for Ibargüen is found on ff. 99r–101v.
109. Meeting of 9 June 1563, ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 26, ff. 177v–178v;
Libro de Entradas, f. 47.
110. Valdés to Ovando, from Madrid, 20 December 1563, IVDJ, envío 91, caja
130, f. 234.
111. ASCM, Libro de Entradas, f. 26v. No day is given for the appointment or
conferral. Lovett says incorrectly that Ovando was already a canon when he became
provisor of Seville (Philip II and Mateo Vázquez de Leca, 12). Another source says
that he received the appointment in 1560 (Delgado, El colegio de San Bartolomé de
Salamanca, 103).
112. The Libro de Entradas does not contain such information.
113. ASCM, Actas Capitulares, libro 26, ff. 80, 210v.
114. See González Novalín, Valdés, 231.
115. Vázquez de Leca to Espinosa, from Alcalá de Henares, 11 September
1565, IVDJ, envío 57, caja 70, no foliation. The genealogical chart drawn up by
Altman shows Doctor Nicolás de Ovando as Juan de Ovando’s first cousin, once
removed (“Spanish Hidalgos,” 345). Neither of her charts mentioned a fray Diego
de Ovando. In the 1580s a fray Juan de Ovando was guardian (superior) of a
Franciscan convent at San Juan de los Reyes, near Toledo. See Kagan, Lucrecia’s
Dreams, 156–57.
116. See Lovett, Philip II and Mateo Vázquez de Leca, 14.
117. ASCM, Libro de Entradas, sesión secretum, 382, f. 26v.
118. Vázquez de Leca to Espinosa, from Alcalá de Henares, 9 August 1565,
IVDJ, envío 57, caja 70, unfoliated. In later life Vázquez de Leca had a relative
named Juan Vázquez Aldrete, who was most probably related to the canon (Cabrera
de Córdoba, Historia de Felipe II, 3:346).
119. The converso descent is accepted by Roth (Conversos, 157) but is dis-
counted by Rekers (Benito Arias Montano, 3 n. 3). Information on Arias Montano
can also be found in Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 721–23, 738–49, 771–72; and; Morales
Oliver, Arias Montano.
120. Cabrera de Córdoba indicates that the accusations came after Arias Mon-
tano’s death (Historia de Felipe II, 2:174), but they were actually made during his
lifetime. See Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 742.
122. Morales Oliver, Arias Montano, 47. For an analysis of Arias Montano’s
thought, see Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 740–49.
123. It can be found in IVDJ, envío 78, caja 103. The foliation of this caja is
erratic. Most of the letters have been transcribed and published by Jiménez de la
Espada, “Correspondencia del Doctor Benito Arias Montano.” These are tran-
scriptions of the documents in the IVDJ, but they are not complete. Jiménez de la
Espada has summarized parts of them and has omitted one letter of 28 November
1570 (f. 11).
124. The story of Vázquez de Leca can be found in Poole, “The Politics of
Limpieza de Sangre.” The date of birth is based on a document, drawn up in
1564, in which he declared that he was twenty–nine years old. On the basis of the
same document, Lovett gives 1544 as the year of his birth (“A Cardinal’s Papers,”
242).
125. His official genealogy can be found in IVDJ, envío 77, caja 102, f. 610r.
126. Hazañas y la Rúa, Mateo Vázquez de Leca, 4. This is a biography of the sec-
retary’s nephew, not the secretary himself. The nephew used the name Mateo
Vázquez de Leca Luchiano.
127. Ibid., 4; Lovett, Philip II and Mateo Vázquez de Leca, 11.
128. The persons mentioned in the will were Pedro de Alderete (his nephew),
Isabel Pérez (housekeeper), María (black servant), Gaspar (a black slave, who was
a good Christian and married and who was freed by the will), Rodrigo Vázquez de
Alderete, and other, unnamed servants. IVDJ, envío 54, caja 71, tomo 4, ff.
365r–366v.
129. IVDJ, envío 54, caja 70, f. 352r.
130. Ibid., caja 71, f. 353r. The omitted words are lost in the binding.
131. Ibid., f. 353v. This document makes Mateo two years younger than others
do.
132. Marañón (Antonio Pérez, 2:910) reproduces a letter from a Jesuit named
Rengifo to Mateo Vázquez, 7 July 1582, in which he said that the secretary has been
raised by the Jesuits from his youth. There is no evidence, however, that Vázquez
de Leca ever attended a university. At no point in his life are any academic titles
attached to his name. In all probability his murky origins and the impossibility of
establishing his limpieza de sangre had something to do with this.
133. Testimony given in July 1561, IVDJ, envío 77, caja 102, f. 608r.
134. IVDJ, envío 54, caja 71, tomo 4, f. 367r.
135. Ibid., f. 370r.
136. Lovett, Philip II and Mateo Vázquez de Leca, 6.
137. Juan Antonio Escudero is the only author who speculates that Mateo
Vázquez was the canon’s illegitimate son (Los secretarios de estado, 1:188).
138. Isabel de Luchiano to Mateo Vázquez de Leca, from Seville, undated,
IVDJ, envío 54, caja 70, tomo 2, ff. 734–77.
139. Marañón repeated a rumor that circulated in Madrid that Mateo Vázquez
was the illegitimate son of an unknown father via a casual affair (padre ocasional)
(Antonio Pérez, 1:376). He also stated that in his will Vázquez de Alderete provided
for Mateo and his sister “with suspicious tenderness” (ibid.). However, the sister
was not mentioned in the will.
141. Ovando to Vázquez, from Alcalá de Henares, 21 October 1565, IVDJ, envío
57, caja 70, no foliation.
142. Ovando to Vázquez, from Alcalá de Henares, 21 October 1565, IVDJ, envío
57, caja 70, f. 9, quoted in Lovett, Philip II and Mateo Vázquez de Leca, 14.
143. Ovando to Espinosa, from Alcalá de Henares, 11 August and 27 Septem-
ber 1565, IVDJ, envío 57, caja 70, no foliation.
144. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, from Alcalá de Henares, 28 September 1565,

IVDJ, envío 57, caja 70, no foliation. Ovando’s gift was a sotana, which can also
mean a cassock, but since he indicates that it was to be worn over Vázquez de
Leca’s clothes, it probably refers to a gown or cloak.
145. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, from Seville, 15 January 1566, IVDJ, envío 57,
caja 70, no foliation. Ovando literally told him to “sew up his mouth.”
146. Cabrera de Córdoba, Historia de Felipe II, 2:449. Escudero speaks of this
period as the “zenith of private secretaries” (Los secretarios de estado, 1:187).
147. She called him this in a fiery letter of denunciation to Philip II (Marañón,
Antonio Pérez, 1:376); Kamen, Philip of Spain, 148, describes Vázquez de Leca as
“swarthy, plump, and balding,” a description that may be based on a medal issued
during his lifetime.
148. Lynch, Spain under the Habsburgs, 1:188; Marañón, Antonio Pérez, 1:376, 377,
378, 379.
149. Valdés to Ovando, from Valladolid, 10 April 1559, IVDJ, envío 91, caja 130,
f. 213.
150. Valdés to Philip II, from Valladolid, 16 May 1559, AGS, Secretería de
Estado, leg. 137, f. 12.
151. IVDJ, envío 91, caja 130, f. 329.
152. Valdés to Ovando, from Madrid, 11 May 1564, ibid., f. 240.
153. Valdés to Ovando, from Madrid, 8 June 1564, ibid., f. 242.
154. Ibargüen to Ovando, from Madrid, 11 May 1564, ibid., f. 247.
155. Ibargüen to Ovando, from Madrid, 12 July 1564, ibid., f. 280.
156. This was also the date Ovando gave for the opening of his visitation of the
University of Alcalá de Heneres in a deathbed report to Philip II, 2 September 1575,
Madrid, IVDJ, envío 91, caja 43, f. 1.
157. Ibargüen to Ovando, from Madrid, 20 August 1564, ibid., caja 130, f. 283.
158. Ibargüen to Ovando, from Madrid, 19 December 1564, ibid., f. 284.
159. Ibargüen to Ovando, from Madrid, 13 April 1565, ibid., f. 285.
160. The latter letter from Ibargüen is dated 25 July 1565, ibid., f. 288.
CHAPTER 4
1. There is no comprehensive biography in English of Cisneros, as he is com-
monly called. The most recent, Rummel, Jiménez de Cisernos, though brief, is a good
introduction. Of works in Spanish, Conde de Cedillo, El Cardenal Cisneros, and
García Oro, El Cardenal Cisneros, deal mostly with Cisneros’s political activities. An
early biography, translated and annotated, is Gómez de Castro, De las hazañas de
Francisco Jiménez de Cisneros. Another early biography is reproduced in Nelson and
Wiess, “An Early Life.” A popular treatment but one that is sound and shows the
contradictions in Cisneros’s life is Fernández-Armesto, “Humanist, Inquisitor,
Mystic.” This chapter is based on Poole, “Juan de Ovando’s Reform of the Univer-
sity of Alcalá de Henares.”
2. Rummel thinks that the story of the imprisonment may have been exag-
gerated (Jiménez de Cisneros, 13).
3. On his first regency, see Rummel, Jiménez de Cisernos, 73–76.
4. Kamen, Spain, 48. See also his Inquisition and Society, 54, 168.
5. Kamen, Spain, 46–47; Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 5. The Observants origi-
nated in the fourteenth century as a reform movement seeking to restore obser-
vance of the primitive Franciscan rule. The Conventuals, who had accepted papal
modifications of the rule, viewed the Observants as divisive. The two groups were
definitively separated by the papacy in 1517.
6. Lovett, Early Habsburg Spain, 28–29. Haliczer describes Cisneros’s second
regency as “disastrous,” in part because the cardinal’s freedom of action was
severely limited (The Comuneros of Castile, 129). For a differing interpretation, see
Rummel, Jiménez de Cisernos, 79–103.
7. Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 10–11
8. Kamen, Spain, 111. Erasmus is supposed to have replied “non placet
Hispania.”
9. Information on the University of Alcalá de Henares can be found in Batail-
lon, Erasmo y España, passim, but especially 10–20; Kagan, Students and Society, pas-
sim; Lascaris Comneno, Colegios mayores; Beltrán de Heredia, “La teología”; Martín
Hernández, La formación clerical; Urriza, La preclara facultad; González Navarro, Uni-
versidad Complutense; Rummel, Jiménez de Cisneros, 53–57.
10. Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 11.
11. Ibid., 14.
12. Lascaris Comneno, Colegios mayores, xviii. Urriza, La preclara facultad, 22,
says that the first school year was 1509–10.
13. On this, see Escandell Bonet, “La regulación cisneriana,” 104. He calls
these novedades, or innovations. It caused some consternation at other Spanish uni-
versities. See also Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 16–18.
14. Beltrán de Heredia, “La teología,” 16; Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 13.
15. A good general description of the organizational system of the colegio and
university can be found in Gil García, “La Universidad de Alcalá de Henares,”
16–17, 20. A rather complex diagram can be found in González Navarro, “La uni-
versidad de Alcalá de Henares,” 1:26.
16. Kagan, Students and Society, 69.
17. Lascaris Comneno, Colegios mayores, xx.
18. González Navarro, Universidad Complutense, 84–85. For a description of the
office of rector, see also his “La universidad de Alcalá de Henares,” 1:30–31.
19. Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 12. For a description of his office, see González
Navarro, “La universidad de Alcalá de Henares,” 1:32–33.
20. González Navarro, Universidad Complutense, 84–85.
21. García de Oro and Portela Silva, “Visitas a la Universidad de Alcalá,” 11.
22. On the capilla, see González Navarro, “La universidad de Alcalá de
Henares,” 1:31–32.
23. According to Title 81 of the constitutions. See González Navarro, Universidad

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

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

Henares,” 1:33–34.
63. Espinosa report, IVDJ, envío 90, caja 127.
64. AGS, Cámara de Castilla, leg. 2789, f. 22r and v.
65. Ibid., f. 54r.
66. Ibid., f. 56r–57r, 61r–62v.
67. Ibid., ff. 58r and v, 59r–60v, 62v.
68. Ibid., ff. 63r–64v.
69. Ibid., ff. 65r–66v, 67–68r, 69r–70v
70. Ibid., packet 6, ff. 15r–24r.
71. Ibid., tomo 1, ff. 83r, 86r, 87r, 98r, 99r and v, 100r–101r, 102r–3v, 107r–8v,
109r–10r.
72. The questionnaires can be found in AGS, Cámara de Castilla, leg. 2789,
packets 1–6, unfoliated.
73. A good, brief summary of this can be found in Gil García, “La Universidad
de Alcalá Henares,” 23–24.
74. De la ministracion de la justicia de Alcala q[uanto] a los estudiantes e informacion
dellos, AGS, Cámara de Castilla, leg. 2789, packet 9 (author’s enumeration), unfoli-
ated. Medimilla’s two memorials are dated 26 and 28 September.
75. A síndico was a person who collected court fines but also acted as a pub-
lic defender for any organization or corporation.
76. Zavarte to Ovando, 9 October, 1565, AGS, Cámara de Castilla, leg. 2789,
packet 9 (author’s enumeration), unfoliated.
77. AGS, Cámara de Castilla, leg. 2789, packets 11 and 14 (author’s numera-
tion), unfoliated.
78. Ibid., packet 10, unfoliated.
79. Ibid. The date was the petitioner’s error, since Nebrija died in 1532.
80. See especially AGS, Cámara de Castilla, leg. 2789, tomo 1, f. 15.
81. González Navarro, Universidad Complutense, 33. His treatment of the ques-
tion is on pp. 35–64.
82. AHN, Universidades, leg. 525F, f. 111.
83. Ibid., f. 113r and v.
84. Ibid., f. 114r. The order of materials is inverted. Titles 35 to the end are to
be found in ff. 116v to 172v and Titles 1–35 are in ff. 38r–76r, but in this legajo the
latter are bound after the former. Ff. 76v–101r contain the rules for the individual
colegios.
85. Ibid., f. 49. The pertinent section of the original constitutions, in Latin and
a Spanish translation, can be found in González Navarro, Universidad Complutense,
194–97.
86. AHN, Universidades, leg. 525F, f. 142r, undated.
87. Sicroff, Los estatutos, 119. He cites as a source Rújula y de Ochotorena,
Indice, 34.
88. Cited in Sicroff, Los estatutos, See also Kamen, Philip of Spain, 33.
89. AGS, Patronato Real, leg. 59, f. 147.

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

122. AHN, Universidades, leg. 525F, ff. 124r–28v.
123. Ibid., f. 179v.
124. Ibid., f. 185r.
125. Ibid., ff. 185v–92r.
127. Esperanza, Estado, 28r.
128. Entrambasaguas, Grandeza y decadencia, 207–8, 223, 225; Muñoyerro, La fac-
ultad de medicina, 23.
129. Gil García, “La Universidad de Alcalá de Henares,” 16.
130. Esperanza, Estado, 11.
131. The Spanish Inquisition, unlike the Roman, generally avoided dealing
with matters of science. Copernicus’s work was never banned. See Kamen, Inquisi-
tion and Society, 262.
132. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, from Alcalá de Henares, 1 May 1565, IVDJ,
envío 57, caja 70, unfoliated.
133. Vázquez de Leca to Espinosa, from Alcalá de Henares, 9 or 10 August
1565, ibid. By 28 September Vázquez was in Madrid and in Espinosa’s service.
Ovando sent him his salary and possessions from Alcalá. Ovando to Vázquez de
Leca, from Alcalá de Henares, 28 September 1565, ibid.
134. Ovando to Espinosa, from Alcalá de Henares, 11 August 1565, ibid.
135. Ovando to Espinosa, from Alcalá de Henares, 11 September 1565, ibid. The
relative was a Doctor Ovando, not further identified.
136. Marañón says that Mateo Vázquez’s tutors placed him in Espinosa’s serv-
ice at the Casa de Contratación in Seville in 1565 (Antonio Pérez, 1:378). This is incon-
sistent with the anxiety that Vázquez felt about entering the cardinal’s service in
Madrid.
137. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, from Alcalá de Henares, 9 October 1565,
IVDJ, envío 57, caja 70, unfoliated.
138. As he himself testified in his deathbed request to Philip II, 2 September
1575, IVDJ, envío 31, caja 43, no. 59.
139. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, from Alcalá de Henares, 15 October 1565,
IVDJ, envío 57, caja 70, no foliation. This Nicolás de Ovando must have been the
grandson of Doctor Nicolás de Ovando, Juan’s cousin, who had died sometime
before June 1565. See Altman, Emigrants and Society, 159, 310 n.62.
140. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, from Alcalá de Henares, 21 and 23 October
1565, IVDJ, envío 57, caja 40, unfoliated.
cajas 40, 70, unfoliated.
caja 40.
CHAPTER 5
1. The appointment can be found in book 5, the second book of Castile,
AHN, Inquisición, libro 1279, f. 184r. There was a separate instillation for Aragon,
Titulo de consiliario al Li.do Ju.o de ouando, ante el s.o P.o de Tapia, 1566, in the
index to libro 9 de Aragon. AHN, Inquisición, libro 1273, f. 20r.
2. Kamen, Inquisition and Society, 30; Pérez Villanueva and Escandell Bonet,
Historia de la Inquisición, 1:281.
3. There were three kinds of inquisition. The first was the inquisitorial activ-
ities of bishops, who were called Inquisitors Ordinary, each one for his own dio-
cese. The Roman Inquisition, an international organization, was established by the
papacy in the Middle Ages and was a moribund institution in most places by the
fifteenth century. The Spanish Inquisition was entirely distinct from the other two.
4. Kamen, for one, gives him great credit for its foundation and development
(Inquisition and Society, 46). He was certainly a strong supporter of the new tribunal
in Aragon. See Monter, Frontiers of Heresy, 3–28.
5. This is Kamen’s view, Inquisition and Society, 46, and repeated in Spain, 40.
6. Kamen, Philip of Spain, 79. See also Nalle, God in La Mancha, and Christian,
Local Religion.
7. A thorough study of the origins of the Inquisition is Netanyahu, Origins.
8. Kamen, Inquisition and Society, 43. The two were separated from 1507 to
1518 and then reunited.
9. Kamen, however, says that he was not appointed head until 11 February
1492 (Inquisition and Society, 32).
10. Kamen calls this the “most bloody” period of the Inquisition’s history
(Inquisition and Society, 50).
11. Ovando to Philip II, from Madrid, 9 February 1573, IVDJ envío 76, caja 125,
f. 458r. Ovando was arguing against the appointment of bishops as Inquisitors
General.
12. Meseguer Fernández, “Los hechos,” 343–49. Ovando to Philip II, from
Madrid, 9 February 1573, IVDJ envío 76, caja 125, f. 458r.
13. Ovando to Philip II, from Madrid, 9 February 1573, IVDJ envío 76, caja 125,
f. 458r. Deza resigned under pressure in 1507 because of the abuses associated with
the Inquisition during his tenure. See Kamen, Inquisition and Society, 52.
14. Avilés Fernández, “El Santo Oficio,” 448–72.
15. He first fell from favor in 1529 but was partially restored. In 1533 Charles
V became displeased with him and confined him to his archdiocese until his death.
See Avilés Fernández, “El santo oficio,” 471.
16. Lovett, “The Inquisition under Close Scrutiny,” 709.
17. Kamen, Inquisition and Society, 66–67.
18. For a survey of the structure and organization of the Inquisition, see Kamen,
The Spanish Inquisition, 144–48; Dedieu, “Note sur l’Inquisition,” l’Inquisition;
Rodríguez Besne, “Notas.” The latter article deals mostly with the seventeenth
century.
19. Dedieu, “Note sur l’Inquisition,” 30. For a good summary of the question
of whether the Inquisition was a civil or ecclesiastical institution, see Tomás y
Valiente, “Relaciones de la Inquisición.”
20. For some examples of these appeals, see Caro Baroja, Los judíos en la
España, 2:19.
21. A set of instructions on how to administer torture can be found in the
AHN, Inquisición, libro 1237, ff. 130r–31r.
22. On the Inquisition’s system of punishments, see Kamen, Inquisition and
Society, chap. 10.
23. Monter, Frontiers of Heresy; Kamen, Philip of Spain, 92–93, 105.
24. For the attitude of the Inquisition toward scientific questions, see Kamen,
The Spanish Inquisition, 134.
25. On the question of witchcraft and the 1526 meeting, see Monter, Frontiers
of Heresy, 255–75.
26. See Avilés Fernández, “El Santo Oficio,” 463–64; and Contreras Contreras,
“Los procesos.” Kamen gives an opposite interpretation of the 1526 junta but then
appears to contradict himself (The Spanish Inquisition, 271, 272, 274). For an extensive
treatment of the Inquisition’s attitude toward witchcraft, see Kamen, The Spanish
Inquisition, 269–76.
27. Monter, Frontiers of Heresy, 279.
28. Kamen, Inquisition and Society, 149; Lovett, Early Habsburg Spain, 286;
Lovett, “The Inquisition under Close Scrutiny,” 710.
29. Another means of support was to suppress the canonries and turn their
income over to the Inquisition. AHN, Inquisición, libro 1235, is full of these suits.
30. For examples of corruption and excess, see Kamen, Inquisition and Society,
50–52.
31. On earlier opposition to the Inquisition, see Avilés Fernández, “Motivos
de crítica.” Kamen holds that secrecy was the major abuse of the Inquisition (Inqui-
sition and Society, 168–69).
32. On opposition to the Inquisition in Aragon, see Carrete Parrondo, El
judaísmo español, 42–44; Monter, Frontiers of Heresy, 3–15.
33. Kamen, The Spanish Inquisition, 53.
34. On this, see Kamen, Philip of Spain, 95–96.
35. See Carrasco, El problema morisco, 142.
36. Kamen, Philip of Spain, 235; Correspondencia diplomática, ed. Serrano,
3:cviii–cxii.
37. On the familiares and their problems, see Kamen, The Spanish Inquisition,
145–48; Monter, Frontiers of Heresy, 61–66.
38. Haliczer, The Comuneros of Castile, 43.
39. Monter, Frontiers of Heresy, 58–59.
40. See Kamen, Philip of Spain, 82–83.
41. This was the full title of the president of the Supreme Council of the Inqui-
sition. Details of Valdés’s appointment can be found in AHN, Inquisición, libro
1271, f. 11v. According to Lea, Valdés received his commission on 20 January 1547
and took possession of his office on 19 February 1547 (A History of the Inquisition,
1:557). Biographical details on Valdés are taken from González Novalín, Valdés. He
had been a tutor to the young Philip II.
42. Kamen, Inquisition and Society, 68–69.
43. Ibid., 74.
44. Kamen, Philip of Spain, 73. The source is letters and memorials to the king,
in AGS, Estado, leg. 129, ff. 110–12, 128.
45. Kamen, Philip of Spain, 73; AGS, Estado, leg. 138, f. 23.
46. Kamen, Philip of Spain, 83; Bataillon, Erasmo y España, 723–24.
47. On the extent of foreign books entering Spain in the 1560s, see Kamen,
Inquisition and Society, 87. On Valdés’s revitalization of the Holy Office, see Monter,
Frontiers of Heresy, 40–45.
48. An Index Expurgatorius is different from an Index Librorum Prohibitorum
(Index of Forbidden Books). The former condemned a book only until it had been
corrected or purged of offending passages; the latter forbade it absolutely.
49. Kamen says that the king realized the decree was little more than a ges-
ture, since it applied only to Castilians, few of whom were studying abroad
(Philip of Spain, 81). In a later work Kamen says that the decree did not apply to
the universities at Bologna, Rome, Naples, and Coimbra (The Phoenix and the
Flame, 388).
50. Kamen, Philip of Spain, 105.
51. On the pope’s disgust with Valdés, see Serrano, ed. “Introducción” to Cor-
respondencia diplomática, 2:lxxvi, note 3.
52. The only published information that is at all helpful is to be found in the
investigative process that preceded Espinosa’s appointment as bishop of Sigüenza
in 1568. See González Novalín, “El cardenal Espinosa,” 465–81. Some brief biogra-
phical data can be found in the report that Espinosa commissioned on the alumni
of the universities of Spain, IVDJ, envío 90, caja 127, unfoliated. Biographical infor-
mation can also be found in Kamen, Philip of Spain, 114, 147–48; and Martínez Mil-
lán, “Un curioso manuscrito,” 299–344.
53. González Novalín, “El cardenal Espinosa,” 467 n.2. Martínez Millán gives
the date as 1512 (“En busca de la ortodoxía,” 192). It is sometimes said that he was
born in 1502.
54. The testimony of his first tonsure, together with other documents on his
ecclesiastical advancement, can be found in González Novalín, “El cardenal
Espinosa,” 470, 472.
55. This information can be found in the biographical information on notable
alumni of Spanish universities that Espinosa ordered compiled, IVDJ, envío 90, caja
127, unfoliated. Espinosa was listed among those who sought entry but failed to
achieve it.
56. Martínez Millán does not name the historians (“En busca de la ortodoxía,”
192).
57. This was noted by Francisco Hernández, a witness to Espinosa’s limpieza
at the time of his appointment as bishop of Sigüenza, who said that he had seen the
original process. González Novalín, “El cardenal Espinosa,” 478. On the Colegio
Mayor de Cuenca, see Carabias Torres, Colegios mayores, 2:422–32. It had been
founded in 1500 by Diego Ramírez de Villaescusa, bishop of Málaga. According to
Caro Baroja, the founder laid down a very rigous statute of limpieza de sangre for
the colegio in 1537 (Los judíos en la España, 2:272).
58. A transcription of the examination and awarding of this degree, dated 28
June 1547, can be found in González Novalín, “El cardenal Espinosa,” 469–70.
59. See the low opinion of Espinosa’s abilities by García de Loaysa Girón in
Martínez Millán, “Un curioso manuscrito,” 304–5. Braudel also had a low opinion
of the cardinal, whom he called “grossly vain and overwhelmed with honours and
responsibilities” (The Mediterranean, 2:1124).
60. Martínez Millán, “Un curioso manuscrito,” 306.
61. Ibid., 308. He also says that the Espinosa and Niño families became closely
allied.
62. Martínez Millán,”Grupos de poder,” 185.
63. Martínez Millán consistently refers to Cervantes de Gaete as the provisor.
64. BL, Additional Manuscripts, 28351, f. 21; Martínez Millán, “Un curioso
manuscrito,” 306; Cabrera de Córdoba, Historia de Felipe II, 1:469.
65. Martínez Millán. “Grupos de poder,” 184 n.252.
66. González Novalín, “El cardenal Espinosa,” 467, 472–73.
67. It can be found in González Novalín, “El cardenal Espinosa,” 471–72. The
document is dated at Rome 5 February 1560. Added to it is a dimissorial (a letter
granting permission for an individual to be ordained to the priesthood by a bishop
other than his own) from the administrator of the archdiocese of Toledo, dated 20 Jan-
uary 1564, granting permission to any bishop to administer minor orders to Espinosa.
68. Lovett, “Juan de Ovando and the Council of Finance,” 3 n.10. He cites
British Museum, Additional Manuscript 28351, f. 65, for the date. He also says that
Espinosa was named president of the Inquisition, though he was actually coadju-
tor; that is, he administered the Inquisition because of Valdés’s infirmities and had
the right of succession.
69. Vázquez de Leca to Espinosa, from Alcalá de Henares, 9 August 1565,
IVDJ, envío 57, caja 70, no foliation. Kamen refers to it as the Council of State (Philip
of Spain, 114). Pius V’s letter of congratulation, dated 17 April 1566, can be found in
Serrano, ed., Correspondencia diplomática, 1:183–84.
70. AHN, Inquisición, libro 1271, f. 11v.
71. Serrano, ed., “Introducción” to Correspondencia diplomática, 2:79.
72. Ibid., 80.
73. The date is given by Gómez Rivas, El virrey del Perú don Francisco de
Toledo, 121.
74. González Novalín, “El cardenal Espinosa,” 467–68 n.15.

75. Serrano, ed., “Introducción” to Correspondencia diplomática, 2:72.
76. González Novalín, “El cardenal Espinosa,” 466. The inquiry into Espinosa’s
background and suitability for the office of bishop, conducted by Nicolás de
Ovando in April 1568, is on 474–81. The witnesses included two members of the
Council of Castile, Francisco Hernández and Juan Zapata, and two members of the
Suprema, Hernando de Vega and Francisco Soto de Salazar. Their answers can
hardly be considered unbiased.
77. Castagna to Alessandrino, 21 April 1568, in Serrano, ed., Correspondencia
diplomática, 2:81.
78. “Introducción,” ibid., 2: LXXXII.
79. Ibid., 2: LXXXI.
80. Cabrera de Córdoba, Historia de Felipe II, 2: 125.
81. IVDJ, envío 81, leg. 1251, quoted in Gómez Rivas, El virrey del Perú don
Francisco de Toledo, 119 n.1.
82. Cabrera de Córdoba, Historia de Felipe II, 1: 494, 629.
83. Pius V to Espinosa, 9 September 1566, Serrano, ed., Correspondencia
diplomática, 1:334; AHN, Inquisición, libro 1271, ff. 54v–55r. The notification to the
local tribunals was sent out on 9 December. Lea believed that Valdés’s resignation
was forced, not by Philip II, but by Pius V because of his role in the Carranza affair
(Lea, History of the Inquisition, 1:305–6, 2:79). This is quite possible, since Valdés was
willing to risk schism rather than permit the Carranza case to be removed to Rome
(Lea, History of the Inquisition, 2:78). Nuncio Castagna reported to Cardinal Alessan-
drino that “the public, which does not know otherwise, believes that it was done
by His Holiness as punishment for his having been opposed to the said archbishop
of Toledo” (Castagna to Alessandrino, 28 November 1566, in Serrano, ed., Corre-
spondencia diplomática, 1:406).
84. Unfortunately, the original appointment has not been found. It is referred
to in AHN, Inquisición, libro 1279, f. 184r, and libro 1273, f. 20r.
85. AHN, Inquisición, libro 1233, ff. 91v–92r.
86. Both Busto de Villegas and Hernando de Vega were later part of Vázquez
de Leca’s faction and enemies of the Ebolis and Antonio Pérez. See Marañón, Anto-
nio Pérez, 1:383.
87. There is an interesting draft of a dimissorial in IVDJ, envío 57, caja 70. Orig-
inally, the letter was to have been issued in the name of Archbishop Valdés, but his
name has been erased and Ovando’s substituted in his capacity as provisor and
vicar general. The letter is garbled, especially since it gives the date for ordination to
the diaconate as coming before minor orders and subdiaconate. Probably the only
thing that can be said for sure is that Vázquez de Leca was ordained in 1569.
88. González Novalín does not agree. He considers Espinosa as much a
careerist as Valdés (El Inquisidor General Fernando de Valdés, 285).
89. Until Espinosa’s time “the Suprema rarely attempted to supervise the rou-
tine operations of local tribunals” (Monter, Frontiers of Heresy, 68).
90. Unsigned, undated instruction, AHN, Inquisición, libro 1229, f. 63 (origi-

nal pagination).
91. Acordada of 16 January 1567. Signed by Rodrigo de Castro, Busto de Vil-
legas, Soto Salazar, and Ovando. AHN, Inquisición, libro 1233, f. 92r. The order was
renewed on 18 January, AHN, Inquisición, libro 1254, letter 39, f. 342v.
92. 22 May 1567, AHN, Inquisición, libro 1233, ff. 92r–92v. A copy is in the let-
ters of the Inquisitor General to inquisitors, libro 1254, letter 40, f. 342v.
93. 22 June 1568, AHN, Inquisición, libro 1254, letter 51, 345v–345(bis)r.
94. 18 August 1568, ibid., libro 1233, f. 94r, and libro 1254, letter 52, f. 345(bis)r.
95. 20 September 1570, ibid., libro 1254, f. 349v. A copy is in libro 1254, letter
69, f. 349v. The copy is somewhat different, indicating “consultors” rather than
comisarios and ordering the local tribunals to do nothing without consulting the
Suprema.
96. 20 September 1570, AHN, Inquisición, libro 1233, f. 100r. Copy in libro
1254, letter 67, ff. 349r–v.
97. 12 August 1570, ibid., f. 99v. Copy in libro 1254, letter 67, ff. 349r–v.
98. 16 October 1570, ibid., ff. 100r–v.
99. 30 January 1571, ibid., f. 100v; and libro 1254, letter 72, ff. 350r–v.
100. 22 May 1571, ibid., f. 101r, and libro 1254, letter 74, ff. 350v–51r.
101. AHN, Inquisición, libro 1254, letter 36, f. 342r. It is signed by Ovando. In all
probability it should be dated 24 December 1566.
102. 24 December 1566, AHN, Inquisición, libro 1233, ff. 91v–92r, copy in libro
1271, f. 55v.
103. 10 December 1567, ibid., f. 92v, and libro 1254, letter 42, f. 345r. Ovando did
not sign this.
104. 14 April 1570, ibid., f. 99r, libro 1254, letter 65, f. 348v.
105. Unsigned, undated instruction, AHN, Inquisición, libro 1233, f. 99v, and
libro 1254, letter 66, ff. 348v–49r.
106. See AHN, Inquisición, libro 1235, which is filled with the papers of these
suits.
107. AHN, Inquisición, libro 577, f. 135v.
108. Ibid., libro 1233, f. 95r; libro 124, letter 61, f. 446r.
109. 8 April 1567, ibid., f. 92r; libro 1254, letter 39, f. 342v.
110. For details, see Monter, Frontiers of Heresy, 68.
111. AHN, Inquisición, libro 1243, f. 379.
112. 26 November 1569, AHN, Inquisición, libro 1233, ff. 98r–98v; libro 1254,
letter 63, ff. 384r–89v, and ff. 349v–50r.
113. 20 September 1570, AHN, Inquisición, libro 1233, f. 100r; Monter, Frontiers
of Heresy, 66.
114. See the comments by Monter, Frontiers of Heresy, 45.
115. On 15 January 1567 the Suprema circulated a letter from Cardinal Gren-
velle to Philip II, emphasizing the need for vigilance over ships in Spanish ports.
AHN, Inquisición, libro 1233, f. 92r; libro 1254, letter 37, f. 342v.
NOTES TO PAGE 94 245
116. Kamen, “The Impact of the French Wars of Religion,” 145, 152.
117. AHN, Inquisición, libro 1233, f. 101r, and libro 1254, letter 75, f. 350v.
118. Kamen, “The Impact of the French Wars of Religion,” 149. For similar
efforts in Aragon, see Monter, Frontiers of Heresy, 86–89.
119. Kamen takes a more moderate view of the censorship of books by the
Inquisition (“The Impact of the French Wars of Religion,” 146).
120. Suprema to the Inquisitors of Alcalá de Henares, from Madrid, 8 October
1567, AHN, Inquisición, libro 1233, f. 92v; libro 1254, letter 41, f. 343r. Francesco
Giorgio Zorzi (1460–1540), known as Giorgio Veneto (George of Venice), was an
Italian philosopher and mystic who mingled Christian, Jewish, and pagan ideas.
There does not seem to be any basis for calling him a Franciscan.
121. 6 May 1568. AHN, Inquisición, libro 1233, 93v, and libro 1254, letter 47, f.
344r; 18 June 1568, libro 1233, f. 93v, and libro 1254, letter 49, f. 345r, 345v. On his his-
tory, see Llorente, A Critical History, 108. On his friendship with Vázquez de Leca,
see Marañón, Antonio Pérez, 1:379.
122. 4 June 1568, AHN, Inquisición, libro 1233, f. 93v; libro 1254, letter 48, f.
345r. Casiodoro de Reina, or di Regno, was an obscure sixteenth-century writer
who translated a number of books of the Bible into Spanish. He may also have been
one of the pseudonymous authors of Artes. See Castrillo, El “Reginaldo Montano,”
31; Kinder, Casiodoro de Reina.
123. Kinder, Casiodoro de Reina, 19, 54. See also Kelley, “Introduction,” in Ponce
de la Fuente and Gracián de la Madre de Dios, Beatus Vir, 62–63.
124. 21 June 1568. AHN, Inquisición, libro 1233, f. 94r; libro 1254, letter 50, f.
345v; libro 376, f. 210. Ramus (1515–72) was an anti-Aristotelian.
125. 18 August 1568, AHN, libro 1254, letter 53, f. 345(bis)r; 30 August 1568,
libro 1233, f. 94v, and libro 1254, letter 54, f. 345(bis)r. It is possible that Los Feros is
to be identified with Juan Fero, a Franciscan. See Llorente, A Critical History, 108.
The name Ceiglerius is the author’s reconstruction of the name in the document,
which is almost illegible.
126. 20 October 1568. AHN, Inquisición, libro 1233, f. 94v, and libro 1254, letter
55, f. 345(bis)r; 30 October 1568, libro 1233, f. 94v, and libro 1254, letter 56, f.
345(bis)v. The order was renewed on 30 January 1571, libro 1233, ff. 100v–101r, and
libro 1254, letter 73, f. 350v. Denis the Carthusian (1402–71) was a popular spiritual
writer and the author of De Quattuor Novissimis (The Four Last Things).
127. These included a book with annotations by Philip Melancthon (unsigned,
undated, AHN, Inquisición, libro 1233, f. 99r, and libro 1254, letter 64, f. 348v); an
edition of the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary (Officium Parvum Beatissimae
Mariae) printed in Paris in 1566, letter of 16 June 1570, libro 1233, f. 99r, and libro
1254, letter 66, f. 348v–49r; libro 577, f. 135v, where it says that the book can be iden-
tified by a frontispiece with a cross and swan and the motto in hoc signo vinces (in
this sign you will conquer). The Inquisition’s objection was that the Paris volume
had cigno for signo, changing the meaning to “in this swan.” Llorente, A Critical
History, 109.
128. AHN, Inquisición, libro 489.

129. Descripción del Arzobispado de México, ed. García Pimentel, 4.
130. Martínez Millán, “Un curioso manuscrito,” 326.
131. Kamen, who considers Espinosa to have been very conservative, believes
that there was tension between the king and the cardinal over the latter’s work
habits, including the fact that he tended to make decisions orally rather than on
paper. He also believes that Philip’s rebuke of Espinosa, whom he accused of lying,
“almost literally killed Espinosa” (Philip of Spain, 147–48). The story of the mortal
rebuke seems to have originated with Cabrera de Córdoba, Historia de Felipe II,
2:125, 450. Braudel says that the death was the result of apoplexy but also quotes
one testimony that it was the result of low fevers plus the onset of a catarrh that suf-
focated him (The Mediterranean, 2:1124 and n. 186). Gómez Rivas also doubts the
story of death by rebuke. He cites the anecdote that Philip II, on passing through
Martín Muñoz de las Posadas, said, “Here rests the best minister that I have had in
my kingdoms” (El virrey del Perú don Francisco de Toledo, 122). His source was
Biografía eclesiástica completa, 5:589 (Madrid, 1852).
132. Cabrera de Córdoba, Historia de Felipe II, 2:126.
133. IVDJ, envío 76, caja 102, f. 458r–60v.
134. Ibid., f. 460v.
135. Ibid., f. 460v. According to Parker, the Council of the Indies under Ovando
met three days a week, morning and afternoon (Philip II, 30).
CHAPTER 6
1. Quoted in Parker, Philip II, 30.
2. Gonzalo Pérez to Cardinal Granvelle, 16 April 1560, quoted in Parker,
Philip II, 28–29. See also Kamen, Philip of Spain, 100, where he says that the letter
was dated 30 June 1565 and was addressed to Margaret of Parma’s secretary.
3. Ovando to Philip II, 25 November 1573, IVDJ, envío 101, f. 214r.
4. Kamen says that Philip’s handwriting was neat and legible and that the
bad writing was the result of sloppiness or haste (Philip of Spain, 225). Never having
seen a sample of the king’s neat handwriting, I am inclined to agree with Schäfer’s
observation, “Before the arrival of [Mateo] Vázquez, Don Felipe would write the
majority of the marginal notes in a handwriting that is the despair of every researcher”
(El Consejo, 1:99 n.2).
5. Parker, Philip II, 29.
6. See Poole, “The Last Years of Archbishop Pedro Moya de Contreras.”
7. This system is well described by Maltby, Alba, 73–74.
8. For a good description of the duties and functions of royal secretaries, see
Escudero, Los secretarios, 2:325–40.
9. Vázquez to Philip II, undated but sent on 19 April 1573, quoted in Parker,
Philip II, 32. This was actually after Vázquez had received his appointment.
10. Different authors give different accounts of his entry into the royal service.
Kamen says that he entered the royal service twenty-four hours after Espinosa’s
death on 5 September 1572 (Philip of Spain, 148). Cabrera de Córdoba says that it
was Philip’s powerful secretary, Sebastián de Santoyo, who was responsible for
bringing Vázquez into the royal service (Historia de Felipe II, 2:449). Vázquez’s official
appointment was 29 March 1573, and he took the oath of office on 1 April (Escud-
ero, Los secretarios, 3:627–29). Cabrera de Córdoba related a story that the king once
saw Santoyo’s son disturbing some carefully arranged papers and commented to
Vázquez that the only reason he did not order his head cut off was his father’s serv-
ices “because he gave me you” (Historia de Felipe II, 2:307).
real,” 41; Martínez Millán, “Grupos de poder,” 194, 196. Maltby says that Espinosa
was a product of Francisco de Eraso’s network (Alba, 75). He also makes the same
assertion about Vázquez de Leca, but that is doubtful in view of the roles played by
Ovando and Espinosa in his rise.
12. Parker, Grand Strategy, xv, 3, 111; Brading, The First America, 213.
13. On the history of the Moriscos from 1500 to 1568, see Domínguez Ortiz
and Vincent, Historia de los moriscos, 14–33. For the revolt, see 35–56. The revolt
lasted approximately from Christmas 1568 to autumn 1570. See Caro Baroja, Los
moriscos, 159. He is very critical of Espinosa’s policies toward the Moriscos (14–15,
esp. 14 n.42), as is Braudel, The Mediterranean, 2:790.
14. Testimony in the visita of the Council of the Indies, 18 August 1567, BL
Additional Manuscripts, 33983, f. 17r. All quotations from these materials are made
with the kind permission of the administration of the British Library.
15. García de Castro, from Lima, 20 December 1567, in Nueva colección de doc-
umentos inéditos, 6:210–17; Ramos, “La Junta Magna y la nueva política,” 7:453. The
letter was received in March 1568.
16. Comisarios de Perpetuidad to the king, undated, probably 1562–63, in
Nueva colección de documentos inéditos, 6:46, esp. 96; Ramos, “La Junta Magna y la
nueva política,” 7:437.
17. Wagner and Parish, The Life and Writings of Bartolomé de Las Casas, 236.
18. Reproduced in Borges, “Un reformador de Indias,” 145–47.
19. The best treatment of Maldonado is in Borges, “Un reformador de Indias,”
108–52.
20. Borges, “Un reformador de Indias,” 290.
21. Reproduced in Borges, “Un reformador de Indias,” 131–37.
22. Ibid., 134.
23. IVDJ, envío 25, caja 40, f. 139.
24. Ibid.
25. Ibid.
26. Ibid.
27. Ibid. See also Borges, “Un reformador de Indias,” 493–96.
28. IVDJ, envío 25, caja 40, f. 139; Borges, “Un reformador de Indias,” 148.
29. Undated opinion, IVDJ, envío 25, caja 40, f. 142. Vázquez de Arce, the
senior councillor, served on the Council of the Indies from 1554 to 1571 (Schäfer,
El Consejo, 1:355).
30. IVDJ, envío 25, caja 40, f. 142. On the Valladolid disputation see Hanke,
The Spanish Struggle, 113–30; Hanke, All Mankind is One, throughout but especially
67–71; las Casas, In Defense of the Indians.
31. IVDJ, envío 25, caja 40, f. 142.
32. Ibid., f. 143. The date carries no year.
33. Borges, “Un reformador de Indias,” 292.
34. Ibid., 293–94.
35. IVDJ, envío 25, caja 40, f. 143.
36. Ibid., f. 145.
37. Reproduced in Borges, “Un reformador de Indias,” 147–49. The heading
states that it was intended for the council, but throughout it is addressed to Vues-
tra alteza.
38. The petition is reproduced in Borges, “Un reformador de Indias,” 149–51.
39. Ibid., 151–52.
40. “Memorial,” in Colección de documentos inéditos (1864–84), 11:163–70. For a
brief summary, see Real Díaz, “La política del Consejo de las Indias,” 112–14.
41. “Memorial” 11:163.
42. Ibid.
43. Ibid., 164.
44. Ibid., 163.
45. On this, see Poole, “The Church and the Repartimientos.”
46. “Memorial,” 164.
47. Ibid., 163.
48. Ibid., 169, 170.
49. Ibid.
50. Hanke, The Spanish Struggle, 92.
51. This section relies heavily on Goldwert, “La lucha,” 207–42. Goldwert’s
article is a comprehensive treatment of the question.
52. See Brading, The First America, 70.
53. Goldwert, “La lucha,” 220, 221.
54. Ibid., 222.
55. Letter of Polanco, 13 November 1568, and Jerónimo Nadal, 2 August, Doc-
ument 4, in Borges, “Nuevos datos,” 232. Francisco Borja (1510–72), known in Eng-
lish as Saint Francis Borgia, was the former duke of Gandía and great-grandson of
Pope Alexander VI.
56. Lopetegui, “San Francisco de Borja y el plan misional,” 6.
57. Document 1, in Borges, “Nuevos datos,” 231.
58. Document 5, in Borges, “Nuevos datos,” 232–33.
59. Borges, “Nuevos datos,” 218. Borges mistakenly identifies Pedro Menén-
dez de Avilés as viceroy of Florida. His title was adelantado, or governor.
60. Zúñiga to Philip II, 17 August 1568, in Borges, “Nuevos datos,” 233.
61. Document 4, in Borges, “Nuevos datos,” 232.
62. Some of these letters can be found in Colección de bulas: the letter to Philip
II, 17 August (1:104); to Espinosa, 18 August (1:105); to Toledo, 18 August, (1:105);
and to the Council of the Indies, 18 August (1:106). All were in Latin.
63. Document 7, in Borges, “Nuevos datos,” 234. It is not clear that this
instruction was separate from the briefs. Burrus believed that Francis Borgia drew
up the original draft of this document (“Pius V and Francis Borgia,” 211 n21).
64. A Spanish translation of the instruction, with Castagna’s modifications in
italics, can be found in Borges, “Nuevos datos,” document 13, 237–41.
65. Borges, “Nuevos datos,” 239.
66. Ibid.
67. Ibid., 239–40. Inexplicably, Burrus refers to this as “polygamy” but in a
note cites the Latin, which clearly says ne qua mulier plures haberet maritos (“Pius V
and Francis Borgia,” 216 n35). The unmentionable vices were los vicios nefandos,
from the Latin nephandus, meaning something that ought not to be mentioned.
68. Castagna to Cardinal Alessandrino, document 15, in Borges, “Nuevos
datos,” 241.
69. Ramos, “La Junta Magna y la nueva política,” 438.
70. Manzano Manzano, an admirer of both Ovando and Toledo, says that
“Ovando in Spain and Toledo in Peru were going to constitute the two corner-
stones on which it [the crown] counted to raise up the colossal edifice in the Indies,
in critical danger of ruin” (Historia de las Recopilaciones, 1:76).
CHAPTER 7
1. A brief but good description of the visita can be found in Manzano Man-
zano, “La visita de Ovando;” Schäfer, El Consejo, 1:129–32.
2. These dates are from Lovett, “Juan de Ovando and the Council of Finance,”
6. Schäfer incorrectly gives 1569 as the year the visita began and says that Ovando
was appointed president on 28 August 1571 (El Consejo, 1:129, 352).
3. Schäfer, El Consejo, 1:351.
4. Real Díaz, “La política del Consejo de las Indias,” 79, 81 n7.
5. Ibid., 82–83.
6. Though Schäfer asserted that the acta of Ovando’s visita had been lost (El
Consejo, 1:129), a corpus of documents can be found in BL, Additional Manuscripts,
33983. These papers, however, do not contain the original questionnaire. Real Díaz
says that the questionnaire can be found in the Descripción del arzobispado de México,
but he is apparently confusing the visita with the Relaciones geográficas (“La política
del Consejo de las Indias,” 82).
7. A listing of the individual documents can be found in Peña Cámara,
“Nuevos datos,” 429–33. Another voluminous set of responses from Guadalajara
can be found in AGI Guadalajara, leg. 5, with the title Averiguaçiones hechas por el
yllustre Sr. Liçencado Contreras y Guebara, oydor-alcalde mayor del Audiencia Real del
Nuevo Reyno de Galicia y el más antiguo, sobre lo tocante a la visita del Real Consejo de
Yndias. Unfortunately, I did not have the opportunity to consult these. Undoubt-
edly there are other papers of the visita still to be located in the AGI.
8. Testimony of 2 July 1567, BL, Additional Manuscripts, 33983, ff. 53–161;
testimony of Briviesca de Muñatones, 18 August 1567, BL, Additional Manuscripts,
33983, f. 1r–23r.
9. Ibid., f. 3v–4r.
10. Testimony of fray Francisco de Morales, 2 January 1568, BL, Additional
Manuscripts, 33983, f. 262v.
11. On Ayala de Espinosa, see Vigil, Alonso de Zorita, 173, 175, 208.
12. Ayala de Espinosa actually gave two testimonies. The first, which is found
in BL, Additional Manuscripts, 33983, ff. 194r–203r, dated 23 December 1567 and
addressed to Juan de Ovando. The second, which contains some additional
paragraphs, is found in ff. 204r–14v, is undated and is addressed directly to the
king.
13. Testimony of licenciado Ayala de Espinosa, 23 December 1567, BL, Addi-
tional Manuscripts, 33983, f. 194v.
14. Testimony of fray Francisco de Morales, 2 January 1568, ibid., f. 259r.
15. Ibid., f. 260r.
16. Testimony of licenciado Briviesca de Muñatones, 18 August 1567, ibid., f.
1r–23r.
17. Testimony of licenciado Barrionuevo de Peralta, 1 September 1567, ibid., f.
187v–88r.
18. Ibid.
19. Ibid., f. 188r.
21. Ibid., f. 261r.
22. Testimony of Salazar de Villasante, Madrid, 23 August 1567, 23 June 1568,
and 23–25 June 1568, ibid., ff. 21r–44v.
23. Ibid., f. 21v.
24. Ibid., f. 21r. Vázquez de Arce was not president of the Council but was act-
ing president in his capacity as senior councillor from August 1567 to May 1568.
25. Testimony of 28 August 1567, BL, Additional Manuscripts, 33983, ff.
178r–79r.
26. Testimony of 1 September 1567, ibid., ff. 180r–81v.
27. Testimony of Salazar de Villasante, 23 August 1567, 23–25 June 1568, ibid.,
ff. 36v, 37r, 44r.
28. Testimony of Salazar de Villasante, Madrid, 23 August 1567, 23 June 1568,
and 23–25 June 1568, ibid., f. 44r.
29. Testimony of Briviesca de Muñatones, 18 August 1567, ibid., f. 20r.
30. Testimony of don Diego de Santillán, 1 August 1567, ibid., f. 190r.
31. Testimony of Ayala de Espinosa, 23 December 1567, ibid., f. 194v.
32. Testimony of Briviesca de Muñatones, 18 August 1567, ibid., f. 5v.

33. Ibid., f. 6r.
34. Ibid., f. 7r.
35. Ibid., f. 8r.
36. Testimony of Salazar de Villasante, 23 August 1567, 23 and 23–25 June
1568, ibid., ff. 39v–40r.
37. Testimony of Briviesca de Muñatones, 18 August 1567, ibid., f. 10v.
38. Apparently Briviesca de Muñatones confused the name of the bishop.
There was no bishop of Cuzco by that name in that period.
39. Testimony of Briviesca de Muñatones, 18 August 1567, BL, Additional
40. Testimony of Salazar de Villafante, 23 June 1568, ibid., f. 38r–v.
41. BL, Additional Manuscripts, 33983, f. 49r.
42. Testimony of the licenciado Alférez, 24 August 1567, ibid., f. 49r.
43. “Representación del Dr. Cáceres,” in Colección de documentos ineditos
(1864–84), 11:55–82. On his suspension, see Schäfer, El consejo, 2:445, 468.
44. “Representacion del Dr. Cáceres,” in Colección de documentos ineditos
(1864–84), 11:56, 57, 58, 59, 62, 63, 65, 71.
45. Testimony of Briviesca de Muñatones, 18 August 1567, BL Additional
46. Ibid., ff. 11v–12r, 13v.
47. Ibid., ff. 13v, 15r.
48. Ibid., f. 15r.
49. Ibid., f. 15v.
50. Testimony of licenciado Ayala de Espinosa, 23 December 1567, ibid., ff.
208v–14v.
51. Ibid., f. 209v.
52. Testimonies of Vaca de Castro, 11 September 1567, ibid., f. 184v; Francisco
de Morales, 2 January 1568, ibid., 254v–55r.
53. There is no indication of who this person was.
54. Testimony of Briviesca de Muñatones, 18 August 1567, BL, Additional
Manuscripts, 33983, f. 4r.
55. Ibid., ff. 4v–5r.
56. Testimony of don Antonio Vaca de Castro, 11 September 1567, ibid., ff.
182r–89v.
57. Testimony of Ayala de Espinosa, 23 December 1567, BL, Additional Man-
uscripts, 33983, f. 201v.
58. Ibid., f. 200r.
60. Ibid., f. 252r.
61. Ibid., f. 253r.
62. Ibid., f. 253v.
63. Ibid., f. 254v.
64. Testimony of Captain Antonio Gómez de Acosta, 28 August 1568, ibid.,

f. 176r.
65. Bartolomé de Las Casas has been the object of much criticism because he
once advocated importing black slaves to replace the Indians. However, his critics
often fail to note that he later regretted this suggestion and regarded black slavery
as evil as Indian slavery.
67. Ibid., f. 214r.
68. “The burden of the day and its heat” (Matt. 20:12).
70. Testimony of licenciado Ayala de Espinosa, 23 December 1567, ibid., f. 195r.
71. Ibid., f. 198v.
73. Ibid., f. 256r.
74. Ibid., f. 257r.
75. Testimony of licenciado Ayala de Espinosa, 23 December 1567, ibid., f. 202v.
76. Testimony of Francisco de Morales, 2 January 1568, ibid., ff. 254v–55v.
77. Ibid., f. 255v.
78. Memorial of 5 April 1570, in Colección de documentos ineditos (1864–84),
11:51.
79. García-Abásolo, Martín Enríquez, 267.
80. Martiré, “La política de Juan de Ovando,” 7:456.
81. Pérez Picón, “Don Luis Méndez Quixada,” 99.
82. This list, undated and unsigned, is in IVDJ, envío 88, caja 124, f. 545, visitas.
It is part of the papers dealing with the visita and seems to be a preparatory paper
for the Junta Magna. Manzano Manzano gives a longer list (Historia de las Recopila-
ciones, 1:78–79). That is the list that is followed here. See also Lovett, “A Cardinal’s
Papers,” 247; Ramos, “La Junta Magna y la nueva política,” 7:438–39. The addi-
tional names were Antonio de Toledo (prior of San Juan), Padilla, the count of
Chinchón, Menchaca, and Fresneda.
83. Levillier, D. Franascode Toledo, 81, 85.
84. Pizarro Llorente says that Fresneda was an ebolista and an enemy of
Valdés (“El control de la conciencia real,” 153, 155). Martínez Millán, however, indi-
cates that Fresneda owed part of his advancement to Espinosa (“En busca de la
ortodoxía,” 199).
85. See Carlos Morales, “Grupos de poder,” 134. Martínez Millán says that in
about 1570 the Eboli faction was regaining favor and Espinosa was losing it. The
ebolistas claimed that the cardinal’s repressive policies in the Netherlands and
Alpujarras provoked revolt and bankruptcy (“Grupos de poder,” 194, 195). Gold-
wert believed Gómez and Eboli were different people, calling them “two favorites
of the king in the Council of State” (“La lucha,” 23:225).
86. IVDJ, envío 25, caja 40, f. 163; Lovett, Philip II and Mateo Vázquez de Leca, 21.
87. Ramos, “La Junta Magna y la nueva política,” 7:440.
88. Manzano Manzano, Historia de las Recopilaciones, 1:89.

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

114. Goldwert, “La lucha,” 23: 226. The consulta of the Junta Magna on perpe-
tuity can be found in Colección de documentos, ed. Konetzke, 1:437–41; Ramos, “La
Junta Magna y la nueva política,” 7:450–51
115. Goldwert, “La lucha,” 226.
116. The term feudo was associated with the encomiendas of Naples, all of
which belonged to the crown, which paid a stipulated amount to the encomen-
deros. See Goldwert, “La lucha,” 219.
117. Goldwert, “La lucha,” 226.
118. Brading, The First America, 71.
119. Castagna to Cardinal Alessandrino, 9 February 1569, in Serrano, ed., Cor-
respondencia diplomática, 3:42.
120. Goldwert, “La lucha,” 232; Schäfer, El Consejo, 2:296.
121. Ovando to Philip II, November 25, 1573, IVDJ, envío 101, f. 214r
CHAPTER 8
1. These can be found in IVDJ, envío 88, caja 124, ff. 542, 543. Some have been
reprinted in Jiménez de la Espada, El Código Ovandino, 8–23; Maurtúa, Antecedentes,
3–18. Peña Cámara believed that they were written between February of 1569 and
August of 1571 (“El manuscrito,” 17).
2. “El Lic.do Joan de Ovando del Vro. consejo en la Santa general Inquisicion
dize que aviendo acabado la visita del consejo de las Indias que V. M.d le ma[n]do
hazer consulta a V. Md. en presencia lo que della resultaua,” undated, IVDJ, envío
88, caja 124, visitas, f. 542. Reprinted in Jiménez de la Espada, El Código Ovandino,
11–23; Maurtúa, Antecedentes, 5–18.
3. Maurtúa, Antecedentes, 6.
4. Ibid., 7.
5. Schäfer said that it was unheard of for a visitador to participate in the
implementation of the reforms he suggested but that after a personal conversation
with Ovando, Philip II considered it worthwhile (El Consejo, 1:132).
6. “Ordenanzas reales del Consejo de Indias,” in Colección de documentos
inéditos (1864–84), 16:406–60; Muro Orejón, ed., “Las ordenanzas de 1571 del Real y
Supremo Consejo de las Indias,” 363–423. This is a facsimile reproduction of the
original printed version of the ordenanzas. See also Schäfer, El Consejo, 1:234–44.
7. Maurtúa, Antecedentes, 9–16.
8. Schäfer, El Consejo, 1:131.
9. Ibid., 12.
10. Ibid., 133–34; Colección de documentos . . . de ultramar, 1, 16, 40–460. They
can also be found in “Códice e Leyes y ordenanzas nueuamente hechas por su
Magestad para la gouernacion de las Yndias y buen tratamiento y conservacion de
los Yndios que se han de guardar en el consejo y audiencias Reales que en ellas
Residen y por todos los otros gouernadores jueces y personas particularles de
ellas. Setiembre 24 de 1571,” in Colección de documentos ineditos (1864–84), 16:

376–460.
11. A fiscal was a crown attorney whose special task was to promote and
defend royal jurisdiction, patrimony, and financial interests. He was to be vigilant
that royal orders and decrees were carried out, especially with regard to the Indi-
ans and the poor. See “Ordenanzas,” in Colección de documentos ineditos (1864–84),
16:431.
12. Ibid., 16:412, 416. The accumulation of paperwork in the Council of the
Indies in 1571 had reached such a height that in addition to meeting daily for three
hours, it was found necesssary to add three more meetings each week. See Parker,
Grand Strategy, 28.
13. Baudot, Utopia, 511–12; Carbia, La crónica, 97–98. For the background and
general history of the Relaciones geográficas, see Sánchez Bella, Dos estudios, 91–211.
14. Martínez Carreras, “Estudio preliminar,” 183:xlv. He also believes that
Ovando was responsible for the similar surveys of Spain, the Relaciones geográficas
de España, and that he inaugurated them after becoming president of the Council of
Finance. Ovando died, however, before these surveys could be undertaken. Ibid.,
lv–lvi.
15. Cline, “The Relaciones geográficas,” 346. The cédula of 23 January 1569 for
the archdiocese of Mexico can be found in Cuestionarios, 12–15.
16. Jimenez de la Espada, Relaciones geográficas, l:xliv–xlvii. See p. 346, no. 18,
for some of these descriptions. Sánchez Bella says that this questionnaire was
drawn up in September 1571 (Dos estudios, 92).
17. “Relacion de la Isla Española enviada al Rey D. Felipe II por el licenciado
Echagoian Oidor de la audiencia de Santo Domingo,” in Colección de documentos
ineditos, 1:10.
18. Manzano Manzano, Historia de las Recopilaciones, 1:225 n.12.
19. Cuestionarios, 15–16.
20. Ibid., 16–74.
21. Ibid., 75–87.
22. Jiménez de la Espada, El Código Ovandino, 21; Maurtúa, Antecedentes, 16.
For a good brief summary of his duties, see Goodman, Power and Penury, 68–73.
23. Manzano Manzano, Historia de las Recopilaciones, 224.
24. Carbia, La crónica oficial, 103.
25. Colección de documentos, 1:361.
26. Moya de Contreras to Philip II, 28 March 1576, in Epistolario de la Nueva
España, 12:12–13.
27. D’Olwer, Fray Bernardino de Sahagún, 90.
28. Edmonson, ed., Sixteenth-Century Mexico, 9.
29. Cline, “The Relaciones geográficas,” 344. See Schäfer, El Consejo, 1:118–19;
2:406, 421; Jimenez de la Espada, Relaciones geográficas, l:lvii–lix.
30. Baudot says that Hernández’s researches lasted from 1570 to 1574 (Utopia,
506).
31. Somolinos d’Ardois, Vida y obra de Francisco Hernández, 44–47, 53–54;

Schäfer, El Consejo, 2:421–23.
32. Baudot, Utopia, 506–8.
33. Descripción del arzobispado de México hecha en 1570 y otros documentos, ed.
Pimentel; Descripción del Arzobispado de México.
34. Descripción, ed. Pimentel, 4.
35. Ibid., 4.
36. Ibid., 4–6.
37. D’Olwer, Fray Bernardino de Sahagún, 96–97.
38. For a comprehensive treatment of the confiscations, see Baudot, Utopia,
491–526; Brading, The First America, 120–23; Durán, The History of the Indies,
xxx–xxxiii.
39. Manzano Manzano, Historia de las Recopilaciones, 1:33–35.
40. For a brief history of Puga’s work, see Manzano Manzano, Historia de las
Recopilaciones, 1:21–26; González, Gobernación espiritual, xxxii.
41. Manzano Manzano, Historia de las Recopilaciones, 1:47–50, 73.
42. AGI, Indiferente general, leg. 427, book 29, ff. 62–93v.
43. When López de Velasco died in 1598 he still had not been paid for his work
(Manzano Manzano, “La visita de Ovando,” 119). The name Copulata is found in a
payment order from Ovando to Velasco around 1570. See Peña Cámara, “La Copu-
lata,” 12. González says that the Copulata was drawn up by a team headed by Juan
de Ledesma and López de Velasco, both of whom had been associated with Ovando
in his visita of the Council of the Indies (Gobernación espiritual, xxxiii.)
44. Jiménez de la Espada, El Código Ovandino, 10; Maurtúa, Antecedentes, 9.
46. Schäfer. El Consejo, 1:132.
47. See “Relación del estado en que tiene el licenciado Ovando la visita del
Consejo de Indias,” in Maurtúa, Antecedente, 4.
48. IVDJ, envío 88, caja 124.
49. Maurtúa, Antecedentes, 17.
50. The proposal is summarized in González, Gobernación espiritual, 88–90. The
text is on 270.
51. Manzano Manzano called this proposal “verdaderamente revolucionario”
(Historia de las Recopilaciones, 153).
52. Jiménez de la Espada, El Código Ovandino, 22; Maurtúa, Antecedentes,
17–18.
53. Undated, unsigned document, IVDJ, envío 76, caja 102, f. 520r–v.
54. González, Gobernación espiritual, 5.
55. AHV, Ms. 2935, 3.
56. González, Gobernación espiritual, 7.
57. Ibid., 127–333. His analysis of the contents is on 12–35.
58. Padden, “The Ordenanza del Patronazgo,” 347–52.
59. Manzano Manzano, “La visita de Ovando,” 122.
60. On this ordenanza, see Padden, “The Ordenanza del Patronazgo,” 333–54;
Schwaller, “The Ordenanza del Patronazgo, 253–74; Poole, Pedro Moya de Contreras,
23–24; 79–87.
61. The text can be found in Cedulario indiano, 1:83–86.
62. Ibid., 83.
63. Ibid., 84.
64. Poole, Pedro Moya de Contreras, 80–81.
65. On the rise in status and competence of the diocesan clergy as a result of
the Ordenanza, see Schwaller, “The Ordenanza del Patronazgo,” 266–70l.
66. The only systematic examination of the sources of the ordenanzas has
been made by Sánchez Bella, Dos estudios, 21–36.
67. Hanke, The Spanish Struggle, 23–25; The Laws of Burgos.
69. Parker, Grand Strategy, 87.
70. Cedulario indiano, 4:254.
71. Hanke, The Spanish Struggle, 111–32; Hanke, All Mankind Is One, 57–112.
73. Morales Padrón, Teoría y leyes, 487.
74. Zavala, Las instituciones jurídicas, 5, 481.
75. “Ordenanzas sobre descubrimientos nuevos y poblaciones,” in Colección
de documentos ineditos, 8:484–537 (incorrectly dated); 16:142–87.
76. Schäfer, El Consejo, 1:135–36. Ovando’s signature was in second place, after
Gómez Zapata. Schäfer deduces from this that Philip II had examined them for a
long time, since Ovando had been president of the Council of the Indies since 28
August 1571, and his name should have been first.
77. On this, see Manzano Manzano, La incorporación, 207–17. He believes that
the ordenanzas were very much in the spirit of Las Casas (215).
78. See Manzano Manzano, La incorporación, 167; Morales Padrón, Teoría y
leyes, 458–60; Góngora, El estado en el derecho indiano, 95; Domínguez Ortiz, The
Golden Age of Spain, 314.
79. Cédula of 24 September 1571, in Colección de documentos inéditos, 16:376–97;
the additions to the New Laws are in 16:397–406.
80. Chaps. 1, 2, 25, 29, 136.
81. Chaps. 4, 139, 20, 24.
82. Chap. 26.
83. Chaps. 27, 30.
84. Chap. 140.
85. Chap. 147.
86. Chap. 141.
87. Chap. 146.
88. The ordenanzas dealing with laying out a town can be found in Nuttal,
“Royal Ordinances.” The Spanish original is on 745–49; the English translation,
749–53.
89. Sánchez Bella, Dos estudios, 88.

90. AGS, Quitaciones de Corte, leg. 28, ff. 459r–60r. There is a copy of the
cédula in IVDJ, envío 25, caja 40, f. 130.
91. AGS, Quitaciones de Corte, leg. 28, f. 460r.
92. Philip II to Council of the Indies, 24 September 1571, AGI, Indiferente
general, leg. 582, despachos secretos, vol. 1, 24 September 1571–28 October 1598,
ibid., f. 2r.
93. Philip II to the Council of the Indies, 6 October 1571, ibid., f. 3r–v.
94. Philip II to the Council of the Indies, 6 October 1571, ibid., f. 3v.
95. Philip II to the Council of the Indies, 6 October 1571, ibid., f. 3v–4r.
96. The councillors began their campaign in 1576, Council of the Indies to
Philip II, undated, probably 1576, AGI, Indiferente general, leg. 738, f. 161.
97. Zárate to Ovando, 20 December 1571, AGI, Indiferente general, leg. 1094,
unfoliated.
98. Ovando to Philip II, 14 April 1575, AGI, Patronato Real, leg. 171, núm. 1,
ramo 2, 1575.
99. Ovando to Philip II, 13 November 1575, ibid.
100. AGI, Indiferente general, leg. 1094, unfoliated.
101. Enríquez to Ovando, 8 October 1573, quoted in García-Abásolo, Martín
Enríquez, 30.
102. On this, see Poole, Pedro Moya de Contreras, 59–60.
103. Ovando to Philip II, 8 February 1575, AGI, Patronato Real, leg. 171, núm.
1, ramo 2, 1575.
104. Ovando to Enríquez, 20 May 1575, AGI, Indiferente general, leg. 1094,
unfoliated.
1, ramo 2, 1575.
106. García–Abásolo, Martín Enríquez, 38.
1, ramo 2, 1575. Schäfer gives the date as 18 February (El Consejo, 2:49–51.
1, ramo 2, 1575. These figures are underlined in the text.
109. Ovando to Philip II, 14 April 1575, ibid.
110. Ovando to Philip II, 14 March 1575, ibid.
111. Ovando to Philip II, 14 March 1575, ibid.
112. AGI, Indiferente general, leg. 865, titulos de presidentes 1579–1814.
CHAPTER 9
1. Lovett, “Juan de Ovando and the Council of Finance,” 2; Kamen, Philip of
Spain, 159–60.
2. IVDJ, envío 53, f. 97, 12 September 1574, quoted in Lovett, “Juan de
Ovando and the Council of Finance,” 7. See also Parker, Grand Strategy, 41–42.
Kamen has a different evalution: “No other ruler of his time had more experience
of and perception in matters of state finance” (Philip of Spain, 157). I find this eval-
uation somewhat benign.
4. Cited in Elliot, Spain and Its World, 145 n.11.
5. Ulloa, La hacienda real, 97, table 2.
6. Lovett, Early Habsburg Spain, 221–22. For a similar assertion, see Carande,
Carlos V y sus banqueros, 1:337.
7. Ulloa, La real hacienda, 171; Carande, Carlos V y sus banqueros, 2:221–38.
8. Ulloa, La real hacienda, 172. According to Williams, in 1559 the encabeza-
miento brought in about 890,000 ducados annually (Philip II, 47).
9. Ulloa, La real hacienda, 171; Carande, Carlos V y sus banqueros, 2:238–565.
Originally a tercia was one-third of the income for the upkeep of churches.
10. For an explanation of the cruzada, see Ulloa, La real hacienda, 571–78.
11. For the spread of Genoese financial influence in Spain, see Braudel, The
Mediterranean, 1:342–43. Genoese expansion and financial domination was not con-
fined to Spain but reached throughout the Mediterranean world. The so-called age
of the Genoese is dealt with on 1:500–504.
12. Ruiz Martín, “Las finanzas españoles,” 114.
14. The following explanation relies heavily on Lovett, Philip II and Mateo
Vázquez de Leca, 61, 82. See also Carande, Carlos V y sus banqueros, 1:323–49. There
is no adequate published history of the fairs.
15. Ruiz Martín, “Las finanzas españolas,” 111; Lovett, “The Castilian Bank-
ruptcy,” 905.
16. See Lovett, Early Habsburg Spain, 225.
17. Castillo Pintado, “Los juros de Castilla,” 44–45, 49–50.
18. Ibid., 48 n.12. Braudel makes a distinction between juros de recaudación and
juros de caudación, saying that the former were negotiable, the latter were not (The
Mediterranean, 1:501 n.268).
19. On the origins of the juros de resguardo, see Ruiz Martín, “Las finanzas
españolas,” 122.
20. Lovett, Early Habsburg Spain, 226.
21. See Nader, Liberty in Absolutist Spain.
22. Ulloa, La hacienda real, 597; Haliczer, The Comuneros of Castile, 54.
23. Ulloa, La hacienda real, 581.
24. For a description of the excusado, see Ulloa, La hacienda real, 623–35.
25. Lovett, “Juan de Ovando and the Council of Finance,” 10.
26. Consulta of 25 March 1575, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, unfoliated.
27. Lovett, “Ovando and the Council of Finance,” 9.
28. Ulloa, La hacienda real, 31; Lovett, “Juan de Ovando and the Council of
Finance,” 3.
29. Unsigned, undated consulta, Envío 72, caja 99, tomo 1, f. 33v.
30. Ibid., f. 34r.

31. Ibid., ff. 33v–34r, 38r–39r.
33. Martínez Millán, “Familia real,” 90.
36. Martínez Millán, “Grupos de poder,” 187.
37. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, 24 June 1575, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 99.
38. Quoted in Parker, Philip II, 134. See also Kamen, Philip of Spain, 163–64.
39. Cabrera de Córdoba, Historia de Felipe Segundo, 2:449.
40. Lovett, “Juan de Ovando and the Council of Finance,” 2; Kamen, Philip of
Spain, 87. There is a lengthier description of the bankruptcies of 1557 and financial
problems in Braudel, The Mediterranean, 2:960–66.
41. Ulloa, La real hacienda, 151.
42. Ibid., 759, 762.
43. Lovett regards them as two distinct bankrupties. Both decrees established
the funding of the debt at 5 percent. The 1557 decree obtained the money from
taxes on Castile. In 1560 the base was shifted to taxes on the Indies trade. In this
way the king redeemed his sources of revenue for his own use (Lovett, “The Castil-
ian General Settlement,” 3). See Ulloa, La real hacienda, 761. Ruiz Martín also con-
siders them to have been distinct suspensions (“Las finanzas españolas,” 115, 118).
44. Parker, Grand Strategy, 92, 145.
46. The exact date on which he was appointed is uncertain. He was involved
in studying the work of the council by the spring of 1574. See Lovett, “The Castil-
ian Bankruptcy,” 901.
47. Ibid.
48. Consulta of 25 March 1575, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 103.
49. Unsigned, undated consulta, IVDJ, envío 72, caja 99, tomo 78, f. 32v;
Ovando to Philip II, 16 January 1574, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, unfoliated.
50. Consulta of 25 March 1575, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 103.
51. Ibid.
52. Ovando to Philip II, from Madrid, 16 January 1574, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37,
f. 38.
53. Ibid.
54. On Herrera’s tangled business relationships with the prince of Eboli,
see Boyden, The Courtier and the King, 144–45; Carlos Morales, “Ambiciones y
comportamiento.”
55. Ovando to Philip II, from Madrid, 16 January 1574, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37.
56. Ibid.
57. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, from Madrid, 14 April 1575, IVDJ, envío 24,
caja 37, f. 83.
59. According to Ovando, the junta began its meetings on 1 June (IVDJ, envío
76, caja 102, f. 530r). According to another source the meetings began on Saint
John’s day (IVDJ, envío 76, f. 530, cited in Lovett, “Juan de Ovando and the Coun-
cil of Finance,” 8; Ovando to Philip II, 16 January 1574, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 38).
In another article Lovett says that the meetings began on 8 July (“The Castilian
Bankruptcy,” 908). It is possible that the four preliminary meetings began on 1 June
and the decisive ones on 24 June, the Feast of Saint John the Baptist. Lovett says
that the junta did not play a prominent part in discussions during 1573 and the first
half of 1574 but that it began to emerge in part because Herrera, Fernández de
Espinosa, and the factor Fernán López del Campo were all royal creditors (Lovett,
“The Castilian Bankruptcy,” 908). However, Philip II, writing on 26 June 1574, said
that the junta had been discussing the financial situation for a full year (IVDJ, envío
76, caja 102, f. 600r–v).
60. Vázquez de Leca, “Para la junta de los presidentes,” IVDJ, envío 21, f. 233,
cited in Lovett, “Juan de Ovando and the Council of Finance,” 8.
62. Minutes, November 1573–13 January 1574; agenda for 25 November 1573;
minutes from 25 July 1574 to November 25 1574, IVDJ, envío 76, caja 102, ff.
531v–33r, 538r, 540r–52r.
63. IVDJ, envío 72, caja 99, tomo 1, ff. 38r–39r.
64. On Fernández de Espinosa, see Carande, Carlos V y sus banqueros, 1:306.
He gives 1574 as the year when Fernández de Espinosa was appointed treasurer.
65. Lovett, “The Castilian Bankruptcy,” 903.
66. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, from Madrid, 11 February 1574, IVDJ, envío
24, caja 37, f. 72.
67. Ibid.
68. Ibid., f. 76.
70. Ibid., 910.
71. Ovando to Philip II, 11 April 1574, IVDJ, envío 76, caja 102, ff. 491r–503v. It
is nicely summarized by Lovett, “Juan de Ovando and the Council of Finance,”
14–16.
72. Ovando to Philip II, 11 April 1574, IVDJ, envío 76, caja 102, f. 491r.
74. Ovando to Philip II, 11 April 1574, IVDJ, envío 76, caja 102, f. 495r.
75. Ibid., f. 541v.
76. Ibid.
77. Ovando to Philip II, 25 March 1575, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 103.
78. Ovando to Philip II, 11 April 1574, IVDJ, envío 76, caja 102, ff. 497r–503r;
Lovett, “The Castilian Bankruptcy,” 904. Ovando gave a second, different set of fig-
ures in August (Lovett, “The Castilian Bankruptcy,” 902).
79. Consulta of 25 March, 1575, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 103. According to
Lovett, by July 1574 the Council of Finance “accepted that a decree of bankruptcy
was inevitable” (“The Castilian Bankruptcy,” 909). He seems unaware that there
were two attempts at suspension and seizure.
80. Quoted in Parker, Philip II, 124–25; Lovett, “Juan de Ovando and the Coun-
cil of Finance,” 18.
81. Ovando to Philip II, from Madrid, 11 April 1574, IVDJ, envío 76, caja 102,
ff. 507r–8v, 511r–14v.
82. A summary of the negotiations can be found in Ruiz Martín, “Las finanzas
españolas,” 137–40. An excellent brief summary is Williams, Philip II, 48–50. The
most thorough study of the crown’s negotiations with the Cortes is Fortea Pérez,
Monarquía y Cortes. An abridged version in English is Fortea Pérez, “The Cortes of
Castile,” 117–38. The same material is covered in Fortea Pérez “Fiscalidad Real,”
63–79.
83. Ulloa, La hacienda real, 76. Williams gives Palencia instead of Toro (Philip II,
47, table 3.1).
84. Ulloa, La hacienda real, 81. See table 3.1 Williams, Philip II, 47. For the period
of Ovando’s involvement this meant only one meeting, from April 1573 to Sep-
tember 1575.
85. Fortea Pérez, “The Cortes of Castile,” 119.
86. A bibliography on revisionist ideas about the Cortes can be found in
Fortea Pérez, “The Cortes of Castile,” 117 nn.1,2.
87. Jago, “Philip II and the Cortes of Castile,” 39.
88. Martínez Cardós, “Las Indias y las cortes,” 258–59.
90. Ibid., 907.
91. Ibid., 906; Ulloa, La real hacienda, 787.
92. Actas de las Córtes, 4:21. The speech is on 15–23.
93. Ibid., 35.
94. Ibid., 36–40, 23 May 1573.
95. Ibid., 65–68, 10 June 1573.
96. Ibid., 71, 22 June 1573.
97. Lovett, The Castilian Bankruptcy, 906–7.
98. On similar attempts in an earlier period, see Nader, Liberty in Absolutist
Spain, 79.
99. Actas de las Córtes, 4:104, 5 september 1573.
100. Actas de las Córtes, 4:128–30, 30 October 1573; Fortea Pérez, Monarquía y
Cortes, 51.
101. Fortea Pérez says that it was for forty years (Monarquía y Cortes, 51).
102. Actas de las Córtes, 4:130–39, 30 October 1573.
103. Ibid., 154, 159–68.
104. Fortea Pérez, Monarquía y Cortes, 53. I do not share Lovett’s assessment
that “a whole year had been consumed in formalities” (Lovett, “The Castilian
Bankruptcy,” 907). This was a period of intense negotiation.
105. Actas de las Córtes, 4:190 n.1, 191.
106. Ibid., 193.

107. Ibid., 199.
108. Ibid., 225–26.
109. Ibid., 236–38, 2 August 1574.
110. Actas de las Córtes, 4:241–42, 4 August.
112. Consulta of 4 November 1574, IVDJ, envío 76, caja 102, f. 608r–v.
113. Fortea Pérez, Monarquía y Cortes, 65.
114. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, from Madrid, 9 January 1575, IVDJ, envío 24,
caja 37, f. 77.
115. Lovett, “The Castilian Bankruptcy,” 907; Fortea Pérez, Monarquía y
Cortes, 77.
117. Fortea Pérez, Monarquía y Cortes, 62.
118. Ibid., 66.
119. Ovando to Philip II, 16 January 1574, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 38.
120. Consulta of Ovando to Philip II, from Madrid, 26 July 1574, IVDJ, envío
24, caja 37, ff. 467r–v.
121. Ibid., f. 470v.
122. Ovando to Philip II, 25 March 1575, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 103.
123. Undated marginal notation in Ovando’s hand, IVDJ, envío 76, caja 102, f.
513r.
124. Vázquez de Leca to Philip II, from Madrid, 21 March 1575, IVDJ, envío 44,
caja 57.
125. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, from Madrid, 27 March 1575, IVDJ, envío 24,
caja 37, f. 80.
126. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, from Madrid, 30 April 1575, IVDJ, envío 24,
caja 37, f. 70. Parker relates a story that on an occasion when one of the abler mem-
bers of the junta was absent, Ovando, for the fun of it, decided to say nothing. None
of the other members said anything because they did not know enough about the
subject to make a contribution (Philip II, 123).
127. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, from Madrid, 20 May 1575, IVDJ, envío 24,
caja 37, f. 92.
128. Ibid.
129. Vázquez de Leca to Philip II, 20 May 1575, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 92.
130. Vázquez de Leca to Philip II, 26 March 1575, IVDJ, envío 44, caja 57, f. 121.
131. Ibid.
132. See Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, from Madrid, 24 June 1575, IVDJ, envío
24, caja 37, f. 99.
caja 37, f. 97.
134. According to Lovett, “The Castilian Bankruptcy,” 909, and “The General
Settlement,” 3, it was probably dated 1 September but released later. Ulloa also
believes it was dated 1 September but was not promulgated until 15 September
when it was announced to the Cortes (La real hacienda, 789).
136. Ulloa, La real hacienda, 790. The decree was in part directed against the
Genoese. All asientos entered into after 1560 were annulled, causing them massive
losses. See Braudel, The Mediterranean, 1:506.
137. Ulloa, La hacienda real, 791; Lovett, “The General Settlement,” 796.
138. Lovett, “The General Settlement,” 2; Ruiz Martín, “La finanzas españolas,”
143; Jago, “Philip II and the Cortes of Castile,” 25.
139. Jago, “Philip II and the Cortes of Castile,” 26.
140. IVDJ, envío 76, caja 102, f. 454.
141. This material is based on Lovett, “Juan de Ovando and the Council of
Finance,” 19–21.
142. Ibid., 19.
CHAPTER 10
2. Moya de Contreras to Ovando, 24 March 1575, in Epistolario de la Nueva
España, 11:253. The same assertion is made by Lodo de Mayorgal, Viejos linajes, 185.
3. AGS, Patronato Real, leg. 62, f. 98.
4. Delgado, El colegio, 104.
5. Arias Montano to Ovando, 17 April 1571, IVDJ, envío 78, caja 103, f. 15. He
also mentioned that Ovando was busier every day.
6. Ovando to Vázquez de Lecca, 14 April 1575, IVDJ, envío 78, caja 103, f. 75.
7. Arellana to Vázquez de Leca, 19 April 1571, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 101.
8. Ovando to Vázquez de Leca, 19 April 1571, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37, f. 85.
11. Parker, Philip II, 34.
12. IVDJ, envío 31, caja 43, no. 59, ff. 1r–3r. On the outside is the notation Copia
de un memorial del p.te Ovando estando al cabo desta vida, para su m.d 1575. This appar-
ently was a draft, since it contains many corrections and is rather difficult to read.
Lovett considers it very remarkable, but "sad" might be a better word.
13. IVDJ, envío 31, caja 43, no. 59, f. 1r. In view of the royal disapproval of his
having acted as both inquisitor and provisor, it is remarkable that Ovando referred
to the latter post. Later in the letter he said that he received 500 ducados from the
archdiocese of Seville and 1,000 ducados from the diocese of Plasencia, of which
he was able to collect only 500 (ibid., ff. 1v, 3r).
14. Ibid., 1v.
15. Ibid.
16. Ibid.
17. He wrote a list of these creditors and then crossed it out. They were Juan
Fernández de Espinosa, Juan de Curiel, de la Torre, Esteban Grillo, Vicente Cataña,
Agustín Spínola (ibid.). Later he said that he had borrowed money on behalf of the
king from the treasurer Fernández de Espinosa, the marqués de Auñón, and others
with no security except his word (ibid., f. 2r).
18. AGS, Quitaciones de Corte, leg. 28, f. 466r. One of the witnesses who testi-
fied to the time of death was Ovando's valet, Juan Cebadilla.
19. Testimony of Juan de Ledesma, Madrid, 11 July 1594, in Martínez Que-
sada, "Documentación," 148. This document seems to be identical with the one in
AGS, Contaduría de Mercedes, leg. 337, f. 28. Martínez Espadero was apparently
an associate of Ovando's for many years. He entered the colegio mayor of San
Bartolomé on 18 October 1557 (after Ovando had left for Seville). He held a posi-
tion in the financial administration but lost his scholarship because of irregulari-
ties in the accounts. He was readmitted in 1560. He became a member of the
Council of the Indies in 1572 and died at Madrid on 13 March 1589. See Ruiz de
Vergara, Vida, 377. Diego Mejía de Ovando, señor de los Corbos, married doña
Isabel de Zapata Chávez and died some time before 1587, when his wife remar-
ried (Lodo de Mayorgal, Viejos linajes, 62). His nephew, Diego Velázquez Mejía y
Ovando was a knight of Calatrava. Philip II made him the duke of Uceda (Memo-
rial de Ulloa, 165r).
20. Bouza Alvarez and Alvar Ezquerra, "Apuntes biográficos," 88; royal
cédula of 30 December 1595 in Martínez Quesada, "Documentación," 154. In his
introduction, Martínez Quesada erroneously states that Ovando wanted to be
buried in the church of Santa María ("Documentación," 146). Peña Cámara said that
such a cemetery was "nada más que una fosa común" (pers. com., 1987).
21. The date is given by Lodo de Mayorgal, Viejos linajes, 185.
22. Quoted in Díaz y Pérez, Diccionario, 2:187.
23. Martínez Quesada, "Documentación," 157.
24. Ibid. The concept of saints as a person's advocates in heaven was quite
strong in Spanish religion at that time. See Christian, Local Religion, 55.
25. Royal cédula of 30 December 1595 in Martínez Quesada, "Documentación,"
154.
26. It is not clear when the king made this grant. It is referred to in the cédula
of 30 December 1595. See Martínez Quesada, "Documentación," 154.
27. Martínez Quesada, "Documentación," 154. Bouza Alvarez and Alvar
Ezquerra, "Apuntes biográficos," 88. Bouza Alvarez and Alvar Ezquerra are mis-
taken when they say that all the executors did the purchasing. Another source
says that 1,000 pesos were contributed by the Council of the Indies and that the
tombstone was delayed because one of the executors was careless or unfaithful to
his task. See Colección de documentos inéditos . . . de ultramar, 14:162. It appears that
the Council did not make the contribution but merely noted that the king had.
28. Martínez Quesada, "Documentación," 147.
29. Ibid., 154.

30. Ibid., 154–55.
31. Ibid., 156–58.
32. There is a packet of documents relating to this in the archive of the Pre-
cious Blood Fathers in Madrid. Unfortunately, almost all the folios have bled
through on both sides and are almost illegible. The documents contain two family
trees drawn up by one of the claimants.
33. AHP, Protocolo 755, f. 431r.
34. The chapel holdings are listed in AHP, Protocolo 755, ff. 435r–37; the goods
that had been sold, f. 437r–40r; the books ff. 440r–45r. The books are listed in Bouza
Alvarez and Alvar Ezquerra, "Apuntes biográficos," 81–139.
35. AGS, Quitaciones de Corte, leg. 28, f. 462v.
36. AGI, Indiferente general, 738, f. 180.
37. AGI, Contratación, estado 13, caja 3, leg. 27/10, f. 233.
38. Ibid., f. 233.
39. AGS, Quitaciones de Corte, leg. 28, f. 463r.
40. Colección de documentos inéditos . . . de ultramar, 14:146.
41. AGS, Quitaciones de Corte, leg. 28, f. 462v.
42. AGI, Contratación, estado 13, caja 3, leg. 27/10, f. 233. Antonio's sons, Juan
de Ovando's nephews, were Francisco de Ovando, Juan de Ovando, Martín de
Aguirre Ovando, and Antonio de Ovando.
43. The contents of the library have been analyzed by Bouza Alvarez and
Alvar Ezquerra, "Apuntes biográficos," 81–139. Unfortunately, they overlooked
some of the most interesting and significant items in the library.
44. Bouza Alvarez and Alvar Ezquerra, "Apuntes biográficos," 90.
45. IVDJ, envío 44, caja 57, f. 152.
46. AGI, Indiferente general, f. 231.
47. See Parker, Philip II, 55; Parker, Grand Strategy, 75, 325 n.83.
48. Eliott, Spain and Its World, 147; Parker, Grand Strategy, 96–102.
49. As mentioned in chapter 1, Philip rejected the title "Majesty" (which tradi-
tionally had been applied only to God) in favor of the simple "Señor" in 1586.
50. Schäfer, El Consejo, 1:131; Lovett, "Juan de Ovando and the Council of
Finance," 10.
cajas 40, 70.
caja 37, f. 91.
54. Castillo to Ovando, 9 August 1572, in Colección de documentos inéditos,
1864–84, 13:539.
55. Parker, Philip II, 125. He cites no source for this.
56. Ovando to Vázquez, from Madrid, March 27, 1575, IVDJ, envío 24, caja 37,
f. 80.
57. Martínez Millán and Carlos Morales. "La administración de la gracia real,"
42, 44.
58. One of the most popular current histories of Mexico has five chapters on
indigenous civilizations and none on the Castilian background.
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Index
Aguilera, fray Juan de, 112 Alderete, Diego de. See Vázquez de
Aguirre, Leonor de. See Ovando (née Alderete, Diego
Aguirre), Leonor de Alderete, Pedro de, 27, 47
Aguirre, Martín de, 24 Alférez, licenciado, 122
Alba, Fernando Alvarez de Toledo, 7; Altman, Ida, 23
and factionalism, 9, 11, 176 Alumbrados, 20, 81–82, 86, 91
Alcalá de Henares, university of, 7, 13, Ambrosino (Ambrogini, Ambrosini),
31, 36, 51, 83, 190, 194; academic dis- Santo de, 48, 49. See also Vázquez de
putations, 61–62; categories of stu- Leca, Mateo
dents, 60; colegios menores, 60–61; Anaya, Diego de, 26
confused state of records, 64–65; and Aquinas, Thomas, Summa Theologiae,
conversos, 17; decline of, 76–77; 73
examinations, 62; financial problems, Arce de Otálora, Juan, 88
67; holidays, 74–75; humanistic Arias Montano, Benito, 193–94, 198;
nature of, 58, 62; Ovando’s reform converso background, 19, 47;
of, 53–54, 55, 63–76, 200, 201; described, 47–48; Index expurgatorius
Ovando’s reforms in perspective, of, 87; and Juan de
76–77; Ovando’s revision of consti- Ovando, 48
tutions, 69–70; Ovando’s visitations Asientos, 165, 169, 179, 182, 183
of colegios menores, 65–66, 67; Aspe Anza, María Paz, 36
patrons, 59–60; rector, 59; reforms, Auñón, marqués of. See Herrera,
62–63; scholarships, 60; and statutes Melchor de
of limpieza de sangre, 69, 70–71, 77; Auto de fe, 83; Valladolid, 1559, 87;
structure and organization, 58–59; Seville, 1560, 42
student life and discipline, 61, 74; Avicenna, 73, 237n.112
teaching, 61, 74; tensions with the Avila-Cortés conspiracy, 1566, 103, 118;
city, 67–68; theological pluralism, 58, 152. See also Separatism
61, 77; visitations, 62. See also Jiménez Ayala de Espinosa, Cristóbal, 118,
de Cisneros, Cardinal Francisco; 121, 123–24, 125–26, 127–28, 133,
Limpieza de sangre; Ovando, Juan de 163
286 INDEX
Balbás, Hernando de, 63, 76 Castile, Council of, 4, 6, 7, 9, 10, 32, 45,
Barrionuevo, Hernando de, seeks 63, 70–71, 76, 78, 79, 88, 89, 96, 139,
junta, 104 140, 169, 199; Ovando as president
Barrionuevo de Peralta, 119, 120 of, 189
Bataillon, Marcel, 36, 48, 57, 62, 91 Castro, Alvaro de, 111
Board of Trade. See Casa de Castro, Rodrigo de, 91
Contratación Cervantes de Gaete, Gaspar, 34, 96, 107
Borgia, Saint Francis. See Borja, Charles III, 76
Francisco Charles V (Charles I of Spain), 3, 5, 7,
Borja, Francisco, 88, 111 10, 16, 37, 57, 98, 119, 153; abdica-
Boyden, James M., 198 tion, 9; fear of heresy, 86–87;
Brenan, Gerald, 3 finances, 162–63, 165, 170, 179, 188;
Briceño, Francisco, 88 patron of university of Alcalá de
Briviesca de Muñatones, Diego, 88, 89, Henares, 59–60, 63
103; comissary and visitador in Chaves, Diego de, 107, 130, 132
Peru, 110–11; and Junta Magna, 130, Chinchón, Pedro de Cabrera, count of,
135; and Junta particular, 131; 7, 90, 130
testimonies in visita of Council of Christian, William S., 12
Indies, 117–18, 119, 120, 122, 123, Cisneros, Francisco Jiménez de. See
125, 127 Jiménez de Cisneros, Cardinal Fran-
Busto de Villegas, Sancho, 91 cisco
Cobos, Francisco de los, and factional-
Cabrera de Córdoba, Luis, 90, 91, 95, ism, 9, 10
96, 189 Coca, harmful effects on Indians,
Cáceres (city), history and description, 124–25, 129
22–23 Colegios mayores, 13; described,
Cáceres de Ovando, Alonso de, 47; 25–26; and statutes of limpieza de
testimony in visita of Council of sangre, 16. See also San Bartolomé,
Indies, 122–23 Colegio mayor de
Cámara de Castilla, 6, 9 Comunero revolt, 56, 60
Cañete, marqués de, 120, 129, 154 Comuneros, 7
Cano, Juan, 122 Confesos. See Conversos
Carpio, Miguel de, 41, 50 Constantino, Doctor. See Ponce de la
Carranza, Bartolomé, 86, 87 Fuente, Constantino
Carrillo, Pedro, 63, 68 Conversos, 14, 91; and convivencia,
Casa de Contratación, 4, 29 14–15; in government of Philip II, 19;
Casas, Bartolomé de las, 20–21, 112, and limpieza de sangre, 15–20; in
132, 153, 155; and Maldonado de Seville, 32. See also Inquisition;
Buendía, 107, 108; opposition to Limpieza de sangre
encomienda, 109; seeks junta, 104, Copernicus, 74, 77
129; and Junta of Valladolid, 106 Corsa, Catalina, 50
Casiodoro. See Reina, Casiodoro de Corsa, Damián, 50
Castagna, Giovanni Battista, 108; on Cortés, Fernando, 22, 152,
encomienda, 136; on nuncio to Cortes of Castile, 10; and financial
indies, 133; and papal commission crises, 163, 165, 177, 178–84
on missions, 112, 114 Coruña, conde de, 160
INDEX 287
Cosmógrafo-cronista, 140, 141–42. See converso background, 88; death, 95,

also López de Velasco, Juan 246n.131; early life and education,
Covarrubias y Leyva, Diego de, 174, 88–90; hostility to old nobility, 90–91,
180, 181–182, 198. See also Cortes of 198; Inquisitor General, 90, 91, 92–97;
Castile and Junta Magna, 129, 130, 132;
network of relationships, 89; and
Dedieu, Jean-Pierre, 18 papal commission on missions, 112,
Delgado, Buenaventura, 189 114; patron of Mateo Vázquez de
Denis the Carthusian, 94, 245n.126 Leca, 51, 55; of Juan de Ovando,
Deza, Diego de, 30; Inquisitor General, 54–55, 79, 199; Philip II’s favoritism
81 toward, 90, 197; president of Council
Deza, Pedro, 52 of Castile, 78, 189; rejected by
Durán, Diego, 144 Colegio Mayor de San Bartolomé,
Durán, Juan, 24 87–88; rise to power, 11; seeks
Durandism, 61, 72, 77 information on the Indies, 108, 109.
Durandus, 72 See also Castile, Council of; Finance,
Council of; Inquisition; Ovando,
Eboli, Prince of. See Gómez de Silva, Juan de; Philip II; Sánchez, Luis;
Ruy Vázquez de Leca, Mateo
Eboli, Princess of, and Mateo Vázquez
de leca, 52 Fairs, financial. See Medina del
Echagoian, licenciado, 141 Campo
Egidio, Doctor. See Juan Gil Familiares: Inquisition, 82; university of
Eliot, John, 8 Alcalá de Henares, 60
Encomienda, 103, 118, 155, 181; dis- Farfán, Pedro, 27
putes over, 109–11, 114; in the Junta Feria, Gómez Suárez de Figueroa, 7;
Magna, 136. See also Native peoples and Junta Magna, 131
Enrique IV, 7, 23 Fernández de Espinosa, Juan, 175, 176,
Enríquez de Almansa, Martín, 142; and 186
the alcabala, 134; efforts to resign, Fernández de Liévana, Francisco:
159–60; and Junta Magna, 131; and codification of laws of Indies, 145;
papal commission on missions, 112; and Junta Magna, 130; and Junta
viceroy of New Spain, 115 particular, 131
Entrambasaquas, Joaquín de, 76 Fernández de Santaella, Rodrigo, 30
Erasmianism, 81–82, 91 Fernando, king of Aragon, 4, 5, 7, 12,
Erasmus, Desiderius, 37, 57, 81, 87, 194 14, 57, 202; and Inquisition, 80;
Eraso, Francisco de, 88, 89; and faction- regent of Castile, 56–57
alism, 10, 170, 175; and Junta Magna, Figueroa, Juan de, 10, 88
130–31; and Junta particular, 131 Finance, Council of, 9, 10, 11, 97, 99,
Escobedo, Juan de, 170; murder of, 175; 135, 184, 185, 191, 196, 201, 202; fac-
unpopularity of, 170–71 tionalism, 170–71; history and struc-
Esperanza, Martín, 76 ture, 168–69. See also Ovando, Juan
Espinosa, Cardinal Diego de, 9, 19, 52, de; Philip II
101, 175, 200, 201; bishop of Flanders, Council of, 6
Sigüenza, 90; coadjutor to Valdés, 87, Flanders, revolt in, 102, 171, 176, 177,
90; and Council of Finance, 170; 182, 187, 188
288 INDEX
Fresneda, Bernardo de, and Junta Ibargüen, Fortuno de, 45–46, 54, 55
Magna, 130, 132 Illescas, Gonzalo de, 94
Friede, Juan, 20 Illuminists. See Alumbrados
Index of Forbidden Books, 32, 241n.48.
García de Castro, licenciado, 103 See also Arias Montano, Benito
García de Loaysa, 30, 37, Indians. See Native peoples
Garnica, Francisco de: and Council of Indies, Council of, 5, 6, 20, 97, 99, 104,
Finance, 170, 173, 184, 197; and Junta 108, 110, 136, 142, 147, 149, 153, 170,
Magna, 130, 131; and Junta of Presi- 172, 189, 191, 192, 196, 197, 201, 202;
dents, 175 criticisms by Maldonado de
Genoese: control of Castilian finances, Buendía, 106; deficiencies, 114, 141;
165, 166, 183, 184; in Seville, 29 ordenanzas of, 139–40, 146; Ovando’s
Gil, Juan (Doctor Egidio), 35, 36, 37, 42, report to Philip II, 138; Ovando as
86; accused of heresy, 35, 39; burned president, 156–61; Ovando’s visita,
in effigy, 94 116–29, 139, 143, 190; papal commis-
Girón, Hernández, 153 sion on missions, 112. See also
Gobernación espiritual, libro de, 146, Ovando, Juan de
147–50 Infantado, duke of, 59
Gómez de Acosta, Antonio, 127 Inquisition, 16, 200; abuses and corrup-
Gómez de Silva, Ruy, 34; and tion, 85; different kinds, 239n.3;
factionalism, 10, 11, 175; royal finances, 84, 91, 92–93; Index of For-
favorite, 9; hostility to duke of Alba, bidden Books, 87; in Indies, 133–34;
90–91; and Junta Magna, 130–31; and limpieza de sangre, 17, 85; opposi-
Junta particular, 131 tion to, 84–85; origins, 14, 80–81;
Gómez Zapata: and Junta Magna, 130, overview of activities under
131; and Junta particular, 131 Espinosa, 96–97; penalties, 83; proce-
González, Angel Martín, 149, 150 dures, 82–83; sodomy, 84; structure,
González de Montes (Montano), 82; training ground for civil ser-
Reinaldo, 35–36, 37 vants, 85–86; vigilance over books,
González de Munébrega, 35 83, 94–95; visitas, 93; witchcraft,
González Navarro, Ramón, 62, 76 83–84. See also Espinosa, Cardinal
Gregory XIII, pope, 150, 189 Diego de; Index of Forbidden Books;
Guevara, Niño de, 88, 89 Ovando, Juan de; Suprema (Council
Gumiel, Pedro, 58 of Inquisition); Valdés, Fernando de
Gutiérrez de Cuéllar, Francisco, 170 Isabel (queen of Castile), 4, 5, 7, 12, 14,
Guzmán, Francisco de, 107 23, 202; and Jiménez de Cisernos, 56
Guzmán, Nuño de, 152 Isabel of Portugal, 37
Italy, Council of, 6, 11
Hacienda. See Finance, Council of
Haliczer, Stephen, 85 Jesuits, and admission of conversos, 17
Hanke, Lewis, 153 Jiménez, Diego, 45
Hazañas y la Rúa, 49 Jiménez de Cisneros, Cardinal Fran-
Hernández, Francisco, 142–43, 144, 175 cisco, 12, 68; biographical data,
Hernández de Liévana, Francisco, 56–57; described, 57; founds univer-
88, 170 sity of Alcalá de Henares, 57–58;
Herrera, Melchor de, 170, 174 Inquisitor of Castile, 81
INDEX 289
Jones, William Burwell, 36 146; and Junta Magna, 130; and Junta
Juana (sister of Philip II): campaign particular, 131
against heresy, 87; and factionalism, Lovett, A. W., 49, 163, 169, 176, 186, 196
9; regent in Castile, 34 Loyola, Ignatius of, 111; and
Juana la loca (daughter of Fernando conversos, 17
and Isabel), 56 Luchiano (Luciano), Isabel de, 48, 49,
Junta Magna, 99, 112, 114, 129–37, 138, 50, 51
150; agenda, 131–32; Junta particular, Lynch, John, 5, 52
131; Ovando’s evaluation of, 136–37,
197 Madre de Dios, colegio menor de, 60,
Junta of Presidents, 99, 174–76, 177, 65
183; factionalism, 175; Ovando’s Maese Rodrigo. See Fernández de
criticisms, 184–85, 197 Santaella, Rodrigo
Junta system of government, 99, 197; Maldonado de Buendía, Alonso, 112,
described, 11 132; early life, 104; extremism,
Juros, 166–67, 183, 184, 192 105–106; personality, 107–108;
petitions to crown and Council of
Kamen, Henry, 12, 21 Indies, 104–106; seeks junta, 104, 108,
Keen, Benjamin, 20 129; threatens Philip II, 106
Manrique, Alonso, 30, 31, 40; disgrace,
Laínez, Diego, 17 82; Inquisitor General, 81
Las Casas, Bartolomé de. See Casas, Marañón, Gregorio, 52–53
Bartolomé de las Marranos. See Conversos
Lazarillo de Tormes, 3 Martínez Espadero, Alonso, 191,
Ledesma, Bartolomé de, 144 265n.19
Ledesma, Juan de, 116, 190, 191, 192 Martínez Millán, José, 11, 89, 201
Lepanto, battle of, 102, 171 Martínez Silíceo, Juan, 37; and statute
Letrados, 4, 5, 8, 9, 10, 11, 26, 119, 121, of limpieza de sangre, 16–17, 70;
151, 168, 200, 201, 203; castilianiza- opposition to statute by university
tion of civil service, 101; described, of Alcalá de Henares, 70
7, 195, 197–98; and limpieza de Medimilla, Juan de, 68
sangre, 18, 198; as viceroys, 159–60, Medina, Miguel de, and Junta Magna,
198 130
Libro de gobernación espiritual. See Medinaceli, Miguel de, 94
Gobernación espiritual, libro de Medina del Campo, financial fair at,
Limpieza de sangre, 7, 85, 200; at Cole- 165, 166, 176
gio Mayor de San Bartolomé, 17, 18, Mejía de Ovando, Diego, 191, 265n.19
26; factors other than race, 18–19; Menchaca, Francisco de, 88, 89; and
opposition to statutes, 17–18; Junta Magna, 130
statutes of, 16–19; at the University Méndez de Quijada, Luis, 116, 130; and
of Alcalá de Henares. See also Con- Junta particular, 131
versos; Inquisition; Moriscos Mendieta, Gerónimo de, 6, 144
Lombard, Peter, Sentences, 41, 72, 73 Mendoza, Antonio, 119
López de Padilla, Gutierre, 170 Menéndez de Avilés, Pedro, 102, 158;
López de Velasco, Juan, 116, 190; and papal commission on missions,
codification of laws of Indies, 145, 112
290 INDEX
Menéndez y Pelayo, Marcelino, 36 Ordenanzas on pacifications and settle-

Military Orders, Council of, 6, 47 ments, 146, 201
Montalvo, Francisco de, 89 Ortega de Melgosa, 110, 111
Montúfar, Alonso de, 143, 144 Ortiz de Zárate, Juan, 158
Monzón, Juan Bautista, 122 Ovando, Antonio de (brother of Juan
Morales, Francisco de, 118, 126–27, 128, de Ovando), 24, 192, 193
129 Ovando, Diego de, (relative of Juan de
Morales Oliver, Luis, on Arias Mon- Ovando), 47, 191
tano, 48 Ovando, Francisco de (nephew of Juan
Morales Padrón, Francisco, 154 de Ovando), 192, 193
Moreno, Juan, 24 Ovando, Juan de, 9, 11, 13, 19, 21, 198;
Moriscos, 11, 14; in Seville, 29, 30, 32; attitude toward Inquisition, 43–44,
revolt in the Alpujarras, 102. See also 200; and auto de fe of 20 February
Limpieza de sangre 1560, 42; birth and youth, 24–25;
Moya de Contreras, Pedro, 28, 142, 151, canon of cathedral chapter of Seville,
159, 189, 199 46; and Cardinal Diego de Espinosa,
Muñoyerro, Luis Alonso, 76 54, 55, 78, 79, 88, 89; and cathedral
chapter of Seville, 33, 38–41, 44–46;
Nadal, Jerónimo, 111 character, 28; criticisms of Junta of
Native peoples: coca addiction, 125, Presidents, 184–85; death, 186, 187,
129; defense of by humanitarians, 190; codification of laws of Indies,
104–109; labor and exploitation, 144–46; complains about Philip II’s
126–29; Ovando and, 140–41, 142; mode of government, 98; and Coun-
Papal commission on Indies, 111–14; cil of Castile, 189–90; and Council of
and policies of Philip II, 20–21, 133, Finance, 168–69, 170, 172–74; and
144; wars against, 152–56. See also Doctor Constantino, 38–41; educa-
Ayala de Espinosa, Cristóbal; Casas, tion, 25–28; evaluated, 195–203; fam-
Bartolomé de las; Encomienda; ily background, 23–25; financial
Indies, Council of; Junta Magna; work evaluated, 187–88; Gobernación
Maldonado de Buendía, Alonso; espiritual, 147–50; and Inquisition in
New Laws; Ordenanzas on Seville, 32; and Junta Magna, 129,
pacifications and settlements 130, 136–37; and Junta particular, 131;
Navarro, Miguel, 142 and Junta of Presidents, 174–75;
Nebrija, Antonio de, 68 library, 193–95; and Mateo Vázquez
New Laws, 98, 109, 154, 156 de Leca, 51, 52; negotiations with
Nieva, conde de, 130, 136 Cortes of Castile, 178–84; network of
Nominalism, 58, 61, 72, 77. See also relationships in Seville, 47–53; Orde-
Durandus nanza general del patronazgo real,
150–52; and papal commission on
Obregón, Sebastián de, 36 missions, 112, 114; president of
Olmos, Andrés de, 144 Council of Finance, 176–88, 189,
Ordenanza general del patronazgo real, 190–91; president of the Council of
146, 148, 150–52. See also Patronato the Indies, 96, 115, 156–61, 172, 190;
real provisor of Seville, 33, 46–47, 50, 53,
Ordenanzas on descriptions. See Rela- 55; provisor and inquisitor, 34, 35;
ciones geográficas reform of the university of Alcalá de
INDEX 291
Henares, 53, 55, 63–76, 190; Rela- Philip II, 5, 6, 7, 9, 10, 12, 17, 30, 37, 43,
ciones geográficas, 140–44; reorganizes 48, 53, 78, 95–96, 104, 138, 149, 160,
chairs of university of Alcalá de 191, 192, 193, 199; administrative
Henares, 71–72; seeks office of reforms, 103–104; and Arias Mon-
Inquisitor General, 96–97; on the tano, 48; and Cortes of Castile,
Suprema, 86–87, 91, 94; visita of 178–79, 180; councils, 98–99; criti-
Council of Indies, 95, 97, 114, 116–29, cisms by humanitarians, 104–109;
138; visitation of colegios menores, defender of Inquisition, 85, 86; and
65–66, 67; will, 192–93. See also encomienda, 110; exploitation of
Alcalá de Henares, university of; Indians, 20–21, 156; extent of
Cortes of Castile; Espinosa, Cardinal domains, 102; favoritism toward
Diego de; Finance, Council of; Espinosa, 90; fear of heresy, 286–87;
Indies, Council of; López de Velasco, and Fernando de Valdés, 34–35;
Juan; Philip II; Ponce de la Fuente, financial crises, 163–63, mode of
Constantino (Doctor Constantino); government, 8–9, 98–100, 123, 157,
Valdés, Fernando de; Vázquez de 184, 190, 196, 200, 202; Ordenanzas on
Leca, Mateo pacifications and settlements, 153;
Ovando, Juana de, 24 Ordenanza real del patronazgo real, 150,
Ovando (née Aguirre), Leonor de, 24, 151; and papal commission on mis-
25 sions, 112–13; and patriarchate of
Ovando, Nicolás de (governor of Indies, 133; personality, 21; policy
Española), 24 toward Indies, 20; and Relaciones
Ovando, Nicolás de (relative of Juan geográficas, 142; secretaries, 100–101;
de Ovando), 47, 78, 88 threats to his empire, 102–15; unoffi-
Ovando de Cáceres, Diego, (the elder), cial advisers, 99–100; and Vázquez
23, 191 de Leca, 100–101; and visita of
Ovando de Cáceres, Diego, (the Council of Indies, 138, 139, 168, 169,
younger), 24 170, 171, 173, 174, 175–78, 188
Ovando y Torres, Diego, 192–93 Pius IV, Pope, 167
Pius V, Pope, 108, 168, 171; instruction
Pacifications and settlements, ordenan- on missions, 113–14; and nuncio to
zas on. See Ordenanzas on pacifica- Indies, 133; establishes papal com-
tions and settlements mission on missions, 111, 112
Padden, Robert, 21 Pizarro, Francisco, 1, 152
Padilla y Meneses, Antonio de, 175, Pizarro, Gonzalo, 121
288; and Junta Magna, 130 Polanco, Juan Alonso de, 17, 111
Paredes, Sancho de, 24 Ponce de la Fuente, Constantino (Doctor
Parker, Geoffrey, 102, 200 Constantino), 35–44, 86, 94, 200; accu-
Patronato real, 125; described, 14 sation of marriage, 39, 40, 43, 44; of
Paul III, pope, 86 bigamy, 42, 43, 44; arrested by Inquisi-
Paul IV, pope, 34, 167; and limpieza de tion, 41; burned in effigy, 94; death,
sangre, 17 42; differing views of, 35–36; early life
Peña Cámara, José de la, 145, 154 and education, 36; fame as a preacher,
Pérez, Antonio, 19, 52, 100, 101, 175 37; rumors of suicide, 42. See also
Pérez, Hernán, 88 Ovando, Juan de; Seville, cathedral
Pérez, Isabel, 49 chapter of; Valdés, Fernando de
292 INDEX
Ponce de León, Pedro, 95 Santa Balbina, colegio menor de, 60, 66

Portugal, Council of, 6 Santa Catalina, colegio menor de, 60,
Ptolemy, 74 65
Puga, Vasco de, Cedulario, 145, 194 Santa Cruz, Pedro de, 71
Purity of blood statutes. See Limpieza Santa María de Jesús, Colegio de, 30,
de sangre 36
Santillán, Hernando, 122
Quiñones, Juan de, 63, Santos Justo y Pastor, collegiate church
Quiroga, Gaspar de, 96; and Junta of, 58
Magna, 130 Schäfer, Ernesto, 196
Scotism, 58, 61, 72, 77
Ramos, Martín, 63, 64 Separatism: fear of, 117, 143, 144; in
Ramus, Pierre, 94, 95 New Spain, 118, 152; in Peru, 152.
Reina, Casiodoro de, 94, 95, 245n.122 See also Avila–Cortés conspiracy
Relaciones geográficas, 115, 140–44, 201, Sepúlveda, Juan Ginés de, 153
202 Seville, 9, 51; archdiocese of, organiza-
Repartimiento, 108. See also tion, 30; cathedral chapter of, 31–32,
Encomienda 33–34; Inquisition in, 32; in sixteenth
Robles, Diego de, 129 century, 29–32
Rodríguez, Juana, 24 Silíceo. See Martínez Silíceo, Juan
Rodríguez de Fonseca, Juan, 4, 152 Sixtus IV, pope, 80
Roth, Norman, 18 Solano, Juan, 112
Royal council. See Castile, Council of Soto, Hernando de, 152
Soto Salazar, 50; member of Suprema,
Sahagún, Bernardino de, 142, 144 91; visita of Inquisition of Murcia,
Salazar de Villasante, 122; testimonies 93;
in visita of Council of Indies, 118, State, Council of, 6, 11, 99
120, 121 Suprema (Council of Inquisition), 6, 9,
Salcedo, Andrés de, 45 11, 35, 41, 42, 80, 88, 92–93; Espinosa
San Bartolomé, Colegio mayor de, 19, named president, 91; established, 81;
32, 191, 198; banned conversos, 17, Ovando as member, 189, skepticism
18, 26; history of, 26; Juan de Ovando about witchcraft, 83. See also Inquisi-
at, 25–28; life at, 25–28. See also tion; Valdés, Fernando de
Anaya, Diego de; Ovando, Juan de
Sánchez, Elvira, 24 Tello de Sandoval, Francisco, 27; accu-
Sánchez, Luis, 129; report on status of sations against, 119–20, 122; presi-
the Indies, 108–109, 134 dent of Council of Indies, 116
Sánchez Bella, Ismael, 154, 156 Teresa of Avila, 12, 107
Sánchez Zumel, Pedro, 38, 40–41, Thomism, 61, 72, 73, 77
Sancho, Francisco, 88 Toledo, Antonio de, and Junta Magna,
San Ildefonso, Colegio mayor de, 58, 131
64, 66; and colegios menores, 61; Toledo, Francisco de, 154; and Junta
decline, 76–77; discipline, 74; Magna, 130, 133, 134; papal commis-
legitimacy of applicants, 70; rector sion on missions, 112; viceroy of
of, 59. See also Alcalá de Henares, Peru, 115
university of Toro, battle of, 23
INDEX 293
Torquemada, Tomás de, 81 Vázquez de Arce, Juan: defends Philip

Torregosa, Luis, 172 II against Las Casas and Maldonado
Trent, Council of, 11, 12, 13, 86, 133, de Buendía, 106–107; and Junta
199 Magna, 130; and Junta particular, 131;
Trilingüe, colegio menor, 60, 61, 66 praised, condemned, 120
Vázquez de Leca, Mateo, 9, 19, 47, 79,
Uzquiano de Uzquiano, Andrés, 66, 76 89, 95, 158, 186, 198, 200, 201, 202,
203; biographical data, 49–51; and
Vaca de Castro, Antonio, 125 Cardinal Espinosa, 51–52, 78, 88; and
Valdés, Fernando de, 27, 28, 78, 198, Council of Finance, 170, 173, 174,
200; appointed Inquisitor General, 176; and Diego Vázquez de
86; archbishop of Seville, 30, 33–35, Alderete, 49, 50, 51; dubious origins
86; attempts to keep Ovando in of, 48–51; hostility toward, 52–53;
Seville, 53–54; campaign against and Juan de Ovando, 48, 189, 190,
Erasmianism, 86–87; campaign 199; and Junta Magna, 132; and
against heterodoxy, 86–87; and Car- Junta of Presidents, 175, 185; and
dinal Espinosa, 54–55; Espinosa reform of the university of Alcalá de
named coadjutor, 87, 90; conflicts Henares, 63, 68; secretary to Philip II,
with cathedral chapter of Seville, 52, 100–101, 247n.10
33–35, 43; and the Constantino affair, Vázquez de Leca, Mateo (supposed
37–38; early life, 32–33; and Erasmi- nephew of royal secretary), 47, 51
anism in Seville, 42; exploits fear of Vázquez de Luchiano, María, 49, 51
heresy, 34–35; and factionalism, 9; Vázquez de Molina, Juan, 10, 170
fall from royal favor, 34–35; and illu- Vega, Hernando de, 27, 91
minism, 20; issues Index of Forbid- Velasco, Luis de, 145
den Books, 1559, 87; nepotism of, 44, Velasco, Martín de, 175
45; and Niño de Guevara, 89; reor- Veneto, Giorgio, 94, 245n.120
ganizes Inquisition, 87; replaced by Veracruz, Alonso de la, 104
Espinosa as Inquisitor General, 91;
skepticism about witchcraft, 83. See Zamora, Alfonso de, 45
also Inquisition; Ovando, Juan de; Zapata de Cárdenas, Juan, 88
Suprema (Council of Inquisition) Zavarte, Martín de, 68
Váquez, Bartolomé, 120 Zumel, Pedro. See Sánchez Zumel,
Vargas Carvajal, Diego de, 110, 111 Pedro
Vázquez Dávila, Melchor, 120 Zúñiga, Gaspar de, 63
Vázquez de Alderete, Diego, 27, 47, 89, Zúñiga, Juan de, 111, 112
199; patron of Mateo Vázquez de
Leca, 49, 51, 52

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Juan de Ovando

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Governing the Spanish Empire

University of Oklahoma Press : Norman

Published with the assistance of the Program for Cultural Cooperation

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Copyright © 2004 by the University of Oklahoma Press, Norman, Publishing

Cáceres; don Gregorio de Andrés, librarian of the Instituto de Valencia de

The Spain of the Letrados

still dominated by former clients of Cobos under the presidency of Juan

power, but they were effectively sidetracked, if only temporarily, by a new

The presence of the conversos in Spanish society produced a backlash,

chapter of Toledo by the rabidly anti-Semitic archbishop Juan Martínez

demeaning occupations (such as public executioner or butcher). Tainted

The most significant defeat of the Lascasian movement was the

enforced, it had been the most resounding triumph of the Lascasian

Kamen, however, defends Philip as a patron of las Casas and a sovereign

A Provincial First Family

In that century Cáceres had a population of between 6,300 and 8,500,

Nicolás de Ovando, royal governor of the island of Española (1502–9)‚ and

and self-definition.33 Ovando, for example, remained involved with Fer-

The Provisor of Seville

Castilian Babylon.6 It was a place not only of great commercial achievement

to suppress Erasmian and Lutheran tendencies were viewed by his chapter

PROVISOR AND INQUISITOR

case is weakened by almost twenty years of absenteeism.18 He died at

THE CASE OF DOCTOR CONSTANTINO

Montes (or Montano), an exile in Heidelberg who wrote a two-volume

Constantino quickly made a name for himself as a preacher. In 1539 he

which he began by citing numerous papal bulls that regulated elections to

they were implicitly aimed at Constantino. The only explicit accusation

need to do so, since Constantino died sometime between 15 January and

It was in his capacity as provisor, not inquisitor, that Ovando sought to

[While the archbishop was proceeding against heretics in Palencia

to another of his disciples in Seville in which he said these words,

AT WAR WITH THE CHAPTER

appointed.109 On 20 December Valdés gave Ovando the names of two can-

“PROTÉGÉS OF LICENCIADO ALDERETE”

denounced to the Inquisition because he preferred the Hebrew original of

There is contemporary evidence that Mateo was educated in Seville by

appointed president of the Council of Castile. Ovando joined in the cam-

THE LURE OF ALCALÁ DE HENARES

leaving Seville. Valdés admitted that Ovando’s eventual departure was

In my own experience I have seen that people to whom things of this

The Reform of the

Italy, to assume the regency. When Fernando returned to Castile, he brought

COLLEGE AND UNIVERSITY

and Greek). Over time, some thirty-two colegios menores, representing

ordering a cataloging system for the library.57 On the following day he

the constitutions and statutes. On 26 February 1565 he informed the rector,

REVISING THE CONSTITUTIONS

and reciprocal subjection.”123 Everyone involved in elections or examina-

OVANDO’S REFORMS IN PERSPECTIVE

mayor of San Ildefonso and separated the rectorships.130 Henceforth the

As he wrote to Vázquez, “You know how I hate to be idle.”141 He was also

The Council of the Supreme

large number of recent converts to Catholicism whose sincerity and devo-

as pilgrimages and indulgences. Erasmianism in Spain reached its high

not allowed time to prepare statements or answers to questions. Torture

to take cases of witchcraft out of the jurisdiction of ordinary justice, both

turned down. The date of his first application is unknown. He competed

dispensation from the canonical impediments to ordination that resulted

were especially hostile to Alba—”envious of the duke,” in the words of