The Court of Philip IV.: Spain in Decadence

by Martin A. S. Hume

The expiry of the truce with the Hollanders, and the evident approach of war after the departure of Charles Stuart from Spain, made necessary the raising of large funds somehow. It has been shown how terribly exhausted the national resources of the Castilian realms were; and the poverty of the country had wrung a cry from the Cortes of Castile, which met late in 1623 to vote new supplies for three years. They could not vote, nor could Castile pay, more than the usual amount, which for the needs of a new war, in addition to the resumed struggle with Holland, was quite insufficient. It would be necessary, therefore, for Philip soon to go and face the independent Parliaments of Aragon, Catalonia, and Valencia; and, whilst renewing and taking the usual oaths, beg for generosity from his eastern subjects. There is extant a paper,[[11]] bearing date of 1625, in which Olivares unfolds to Philip his ideas of the relations that ought to exist between the various dominions of which Spain consisted: the object in view, as he says, being to arrange that "in case any of the States was at war, the rest should be obliged to come to its aid and defence." He cites many examples, ancient and modern, of the need for national unity in the matter of finance and reciprocal obligation, and points out for the benefit of the outer realms of Spain that they can only expect to form a great Power by making such sacrifices for their King as other subjects are obliged to make. His idea, evidently, was to use the obligation of mutual defence as the first step to a complete political fusion of the crowns, and he tried to gild the pill by saying that each of the outer realms may now be considered feudatories of Castile, whereas if they were all united each would be the head. There was, and is, no sentiment or tradition so strong in these regions, especially in Catalonia, as that of political independence of Castile, and any such argument as that of Olivares was bound to meet with stout resistance if he attempted to enforce it. The very rumour was sufficient, and even before the journey of Philip to the eastern realms was begun, in January 1626, ominous murmurs came that Castile might fight her own battles. The crowns of Aragon would provide money and men to defend themselves, and pay their stipulated tribute to their King on the ancient conditions; but that if an attempt was made to coerce any further payment trouble would ensue. How this threat was carried out to the bitter end the later pages of this book will tell; but before we accompany Philip and his mentor on their first regal visit to the stubborn realms of the east, the further progress of events in the capital must be told.

Philip's routine of life had already become fixed, and for many years to come changed but little. Olivares, as before, was always the first to enter his room in the morning, and assisted him to rise, afterwards reciting to him the business of the day, to which, except in the short but frequent fits of penitence and remorse that throughout his life plagued him, it is to be feared the King paid but little attention. He rose early, and ate and drank very soberly, dining at about eleven in the morning after an early cup of chocolate, and performing his religious duties. Like all his house, he was a devoted lover of the chase, and the large preserves in the neighbourhood of all his palaces provided him with ample sport; besides which, as will be described in a later chapter, he enjoyed frequent wild boar drives, in which his fine horsemanship was displayed with advantage. His dress was usually a close-fitting doublet of brown duffel with trunks to match, or on occasions of greater ceremony black silk or velvet with the thin chain and tiny badge of the Golden Fleece at the neck, but no other ornament. The golilla was almost invariably worn, his doublet being, for outdoor wear, surmounted by a serviceable long shoulder cape of similar dark colour. The galligaskins were full, and tied at the knee with ribbons, and confined at the waist by a leather belt, square-toed shoes with buckles, and stockings of lighter colour than the galligaskins, but not usually pure white, completed the leg coverings, except for hunting wear, when gaiters or boots to the knee were used. A broad-trimmed felt hat with a band, and sometimes a side feather, was his head-dress; and in the spring or autumn, when the cloak would have been too heavy, his outdoor garment over the close-fitting doublet was a ropilla or outer jacket with false sleeves cut open and hanging from the shoulder.

Diversions of the court

Both Philip and his wife Isabel[[12]] were indefatigable in their pursuit of pleasure, in which their tastes agreed. The two main amusements were the theatre and the devotional celebrations in churches and monasteries; and the immense number of these in Madrid and the principal cities provided an endless choice of such festivities. The splendour and glitter which the sumptuary decrees prohibited so sternly in secular life ran riot in the temples, and a generation forbidden to be extravagant in their own persons flocked to the garish festivities of the Church to find the sensuous enjoyment which the mere sight of richness gave them. No opportunity, indeed, was lost of getting up a religious show. Philip's second child[[13]] was born in November 1623,—the condition of the Queen at the time of Charles Stuart's departure having been the reason why Philip did not accompany his guest farther on his road to the coast. The infant Princess, Margarita Maria, only lived a month; but the ceremonial to celebrate her baptism reads like the relation of a fairy-tale.[[14]]

PHILIP IV. AS A YOUNG MAN.
From a contemporary portrait in the possession
of His Grace the Duke of Wellington at Strathfieldsaye.

In July of the next year, 1624, a splendid opportunity for devotional display was provided by the action of a madman. The most crowded church in Madrid was that of the Augustinian Monastery of St. Philip, at the entrance to the Calle Mayor, upon whose steps and raised sidewalk the idlers and gossips of the Court met to whisper scandal and bandy satiric verse. Every morning from matins until the angelus bell tolled the hour of noon, when the soup and bread at the gates were doled to hungry authors, stranded poets, and idlers out of luck, Liars' Walk was full. But rarely had such a sensation of horror pervaded it as on the day just mentioned, when the congregation rushed in panic from the church, with cries of horror that a heretic had knelt before the high altar and had deliberately insulted the Holy Mystery there displayed.[[15]] Horror upon horrors! and in the Court of the Catholic King! For eight days the King and Queen, with all their Court in the deepest mourning, peregrinated the capital, visiting shrines and making propitiatory offerings. Every church in Madrid was draped in black, and processions, rogations, and public flagellations of devotees went on ceaselessly for a week, during the whole of which time "no stage plays were allowed, and public women were forbidden to ply their trade." In the corridors of the palace itself separate altars were raised for every royal personage, and all the jewels that the crown of Spain could provide were piled upon them to appease the outraged divinity.

The Theatres of Madrid

The deprivation, even for a week, of the pleasures of the theatre must have been to the citizens of the Court a greater penance for the offence of the madman than any other; for Spain had literally gone crazy for the stage, and Philip and his wife led or followed the fashion eagerly. Actors, or histrions, as they were called, were popular heroes, and upon the Liars' Walk they swaggered and exchanged quips with the fecund poets who supplied them with lines of facile verse by the fathom.[[16]] There walked Quevedo, with his great tortoiseshell goggles and his sober black garb; there, observed of all observers, was the "phoenix of wits," the great Lope; there, Moreto and Calderon; and there also the rival comedians of the two theatres, the Corral de la Pacheca and the Teatro de la Cruz, twisted moustachios of defiance at one another, and talked of the King's compliments at their last appearance in the palace.