The Court of Philip IV.: Spain in Decadence

by Martin A. S. Hume

A glance at the material and moral aspect of society in Philip's Court during this period, the flower of his reign and life, will be necessary in order to understand what followed. After the restoration to Madrid of its rank as the capital in 1606, the increase in the size and population of the town had been extraordinary; and it was at this period that Madrid assumed the extent and appearance that it retained with little change until the middle of the nineteenth century. As now, the great palace on its bold spur looking over the Manzanares and the plains of Castile to the snow-capped Guadarramas, formed the conspicuous boundary of the capital on the west, and the precipitous slope on that side to the bridge of Segovia, then recently built, checked expansion in that direction. But to the north and east the new streets stretched forth in a way which was at the time looked upon as prodigious. The Puerta del Sol, the present centre of the capital, had even in Philip's time begun to acquire importance as leading to the broad new street of Alcalá, which afforded a less congested approach to the promenade of the Prado than the ancient and narrow Carrera de San Geronimo. The Calle Mayor, leading from the palace to the Puerta del Sol, was not, as now, one broad street in its entire length, the wide portion being, indeed, only the newer stretch near the Puerta del Sol, but in the greater part of its length consisted of a continuous line of narrow and somewhat tortuous streets called by different names. This, however, being the road to and from the palace, was the fashionable promenade, especially for the great swaying coaches then the rage in Madrid. In hot summer nights the dry bed of the Manzanares attracted fashionable promenaders to enjoy such coolness as could be found there; whilst the Prado itself, from the street of Alcalá to the Atocha, on certain occasions, especially on saints days, church festivals, and in the evenings of spring, was the crowded resort of the idlers. The Plaza Mayor, or great square, standing much as it does to-day, had been built in the previous reign, the houses that enclosed it being capable of accommodating in their lines of balconies as many as fifty thousand spectators to the bull-fights, autos-de-fe, or equestrian shows, which were held there on great occasions.[[12]]

The construction of the houses, for the most part rapidly run up to meet the sudden increase of the population—the Court, as has been explained, attracting everybody in Spain with brains, ambition, or money—was extremely mean and shabby, the heavy ostentatious palaces of the nobles, many of which still stand, being surrounded by wretched little shanties with mud walls and filthy exteriors.[[13]] The windows towards the street were heavily grated, and mostly small, which gave a gloomy dungeon-like appearance to the buildings, whilst the total absence of drainage made the roadways a mere middenheap, through which the heavy coaches ploughed, and bespattered the pedestrians. To the enormous number of strangers and foreigners whom curiosity, politics, or business brought to Madrid at this period, the filthy condition of the streets became a byword. The gutters of the houses projecting far out from the eaves threw great jets of water when it rained into the middle of the narrow roadways, and with the mere warning of "Agua va" all the house garbage, debris, and excrement were cast forth into the open street, there to fester until the salutary sun had deodorised it and reduced it to dust.

In these streets, and especially in the portion of the Calle Mayor near the Church of St. Philip and the Puerta del Sol, the idlers of the capital, which meant the greater part of the population, loved to promenade for hours every day, preferably in coaches, bandying coarse jests with the people on foot. This objectless promenading and gossiping was so characteristic that a special verb was coined to describe it, namely, to ruar. Everybody pretended to be wealthier, more highly placed, and better dressed than he really was; and though sumptuary pragmatics and decrees, announced by heralds in the Calle Mayor, constantly threatened transgressors with all sorts of pains and penalties, the people, especially the women, continued to defy the law in their dress and behaviour. The insolent dames would wear outrageous garments; flattened farthingales (guardainfantes) so immensely wide as to be indecent, starched ruffs, pattens so high with jingling heels as to be like musical stilts, and would still insist upon covering their faces, all but one eye, the more to pique curiosity and indulge with impunity in their not too delicate badinage.

The large spaces occupied by the frowning religious houses, whilst adding to the gloom of the city, must have increased its salubrity, in consequence of the large shady gardens that they usually enjoyed. At twelve o'clock, when the angelus sounded, the monastery gates opened, and there came forth a lay brother with an immense cauldron of soup and a basket of bread, which formed the principal meal of many hundreds of poor people and idlers all the year round. The students, real or pretended, who in token of their dependence on these eleemosynary meals wore a wooden spoon tucked into the brim of their hats, formed a considerable portion of those who attacked the garlic broth with avidity. Broken soldiers and led captains, gamblers out of luck and varlets out of place, fought too for the food with the maimed and diseased beggars who crowded the most frequented streets at fashionable hours.[[14]] In addition to these charity meals given by the religious houses, there were numerous lay brotherhoods established to relieve the sick and impotent; and one particular brotherhood, which went its rounds at night, especially in the outer districts of the capital, was called by the people the "bread and egg watch," because the brethren carried with them baskets of bread and eggs to distribute to the needy whom they found exhausted and homeless by the way.

It may be asked if Madrid was so forbidding in appearance, as it was certainly difficult of access and lacking in comfort and convenience, what was the attraction that drew to it at the time not only the enriched Spaniards from the Indies, and the ambitious and idle of the Peninsula itself, but the immense number of foreign visitors who now frequented it. So far as the Spaniards were concerned, it has already been explained that by the time of which we are writing the Court had, in fact, drawn to itself all that was left of available wealth in the country. There alone could the Spanish love of ostentation be indulged; there alone could bravery of dress and demeanour find the attention and emulation it always seeks; there alone could advancement in any unlaborious career be found, for where all the patronage, wealth, and taste were, there also must be those who sought patronage or provided things that taste and wealth alone could buy, and so the Court—"la Corte" as Madrid was always called—shone brightly, like the last phosphorescent spot in a decaying body, and attracted by its brilliancy when all the rest of Spain was dark.

An artistic capital

The fame of the splendid shows of Philip's Court, the traditional wealth of the monarch, and the reputation for gallantry and gaiety which the place obtained, brought to it pleasure-seekers from all Europe. The close connection with Austria naturally attracted Germans to Spain in numbers; Flemish Catholics were, of course, almost as much at home in Madrid as in Brussels; whilst the marriage of Philip's sister Anna of Austria in France had made the romantic view of Spain fashionable there. The war with France somewhat restricted the French incursion, but Burgundian and Franche-Comtois craftsmen were numerous, and the enemies of Richelieu always found a welcome in the Spanish Court. Italians, especially Neapolitan and Milanese subjects of Philip, who served in his armies and provided his finest weapons, were frequent visitors to his capital. It was, moreover, a dilettante age, when all over Europe, and particularly in Madrid, where for a century the monarchs had been generous patrons of art, a perfect craze had seized wealthy people to collect and display rare and beautiful artistic objects of all sorts, and the ostentatious nobles who surrounded Philip IV., many of whom had lived in Italy, had shared the King's love of such objects, and had made their palaces perfect museums of art treasures of every description.

Olivares himself exacted from viceroys and Spanish officers abroad presents of tapestries and articles of virtu.[[15]] The Count of Monterey and the Marquis of Leganes, both kinsmen of the Count-Duke, had crammed their palaces with rarities,—clocks, mirrors, enamels, medals, marqueterie, and paintings; and Monterey, who had been viceroy of Naples, had brought back with him to Madrid a whole cargo of silver repoussé work, tapestries, ivory carvings, gems, and such treasures as the red chalk drawing of the cartoon of Michael Angelo's famous "Bathers."[[16]] V. Carducho, who lived in Madrid at the time, describes in his Diálogos the regular meetings there of connoisseurs and patrons of art, to inspect, exchange, or criticise paintings, models and other rare and beautiful things; where, he says, "originals by Raphael, Correggio, Titian, Tintoretto, Palma, Bassano, and living painters were admired, and where much taste and knowledge were displayed." Besides paintings, he continues, there were to be seen at these meetings "coats of armour and weapons of famous armourers, damascened swords and daggers, rock crystal work and pyramids and globes of jasper and glass." On one particular occasion Carducho mentions that the host of the meeting-place was engaged in arranging some articles for an exchange he was negotiating with the Admiral of Castile, a great art patron, whom he was expecting. They comprised an original by Titian, six heads by Antonio Mor, two bronze statues and a small culverin, whilst the admiral had left with the host a good copy of a painting by Caracci; and Carducho mentions that Monterey had there at the same time an original Madonna by Raphael from the convent of Discalced Carmelites at Valladolid.[[17]]

The agglomeration of such works of art at Madrid during a long period naturally led to the dispersion of the great collections on the death or fall of the noble owners, and this was effected by the usual Spanish form of sale still common, called an almoneda, such articles as are for sale usually remain in situ, but on public view, with the prices marked; and the German ambassador, Count Harrach, mentions no less than twenty of such almonedas of artistic collections belonging to Madrid nobles within the space of five years, at a somewhat later period of Philip's reign than that of which we are now writing.[[18]] Of one such noble collector in Madrid (Juan de Espina) Quevedo says: "For years his house was an epitome of the marvels of Europe, visited by strangers, to the great honour of our nation, for they had often nothing to tell of Spain except their recollections of him."