In September 1657, Phillip IV appointed the Galician don Mauro de Mendoza Caamaño y Sotomayor, marquis of Villagarcía, as president of the Audiencia of Charcas in the viceroyalty of Peru, home to the famous silver mines of Potosí.Footnote 1 Although the marquis had neither previous experience in government or service to the king nor direct links with the Americas, and had never traveled there, he at first accepted this unsolicited nomination, but later declined the post, mostly due to the negative opinion of his wife.Footnote 2 His temporary appointment, however, left an unusual trail of private documents that allows us to see the inner workings of the patronage system. Villagarcía kept a well-organized folder with the documents he received on this matter, from congratulatory letters from clients, patrons, and friends, to more personal missives, as well as correspondence with the Council of the Indies. Among the contents were discussions of the pros and cons of the nomination; information and notices about the post, the region, and the travel; and official communications.Footnote 3
Basing this article on my study of this correspondence, I will discuss how the networks of patronage were built and sustained, how they operated, and how they influenced the activities of imperial officials on both sides of the Atlantic. In addition, my study gives us a glimpse into the relationship between husband and wife, and the private assessments and negotiations surrounding the transatlantic journey. Thus, I will discuss the functioning of Villagarcía's closest and most intimate ties of patronage, and how they enabled the agency of a noblewoman in a patriarchal society. Then, I will examine how these networks stretched out globally and adapted to the needs of a distant imperial official—or a soon-to-be one. Patronage networks were indispensable to itinerant officials who relied on their clients, patrons, and brokers to help them govern distant regions by gathering resources and information and implementing their objectives. Taken together, these two sides of the system of patronage, the domestic and the global, conditioned imperial officials’ service, as well as their capacity to rule and profit across the world.
Historians acknowledge the centrality of the patronage system in configuring the government of the Spanish Empire.Footnote 4 Networks of patronage were indeed instrumental for securing the personal advancement of any individual. In the early modern world no one could exist removed from the system of patronage. Everyone, regardless of his or her social status, had a patron and was someone's client.Footnote 5 Patron-client relations were, perhaps, the most important mechanism holding the empire together, making possible the preservation of the social order and the king's authority. The personal ties of loyalty—based on ideals of service and gratitude, as well as magnificence and gift giving—were essential to a hierarchical political system that was conceived as a political body, with the king at its center as its head.
Moreover, as several scholars have already pointed out, these networks strengthened the power of the king and his authority in this far-flung polity. The monarch was the primary source and distributor of favors, regardless of the many intermediaries that might intervene. By the seventeenth century, the king had become the most important and major patron, progressively displacing the nobility, which also grew dependent on his favors.Footnote 6 Service to the king became the door to royal bounty, and in the seventeenth century almost the whole of society took part in one way or another in serving his majesty.
Most patronage studies of the period, however, focus on specific geographical areas and are thus locally oriented. These dense local networks have been described largely in isolation from the wider network of connections spanning the empire. For instance, James Casey argues that when the king appointed viceroys, he looked for individuals with strong local connections so as to ensure a successful government: “A viceroy who was a complete outsider and who could not or would not get involved in personal dealings, was heading for financial and emotional disaster.”Footnote 7 While Casey focuses mostly on Spain, his statement leaves the question open regarding the American case, in which, most often, the newcomers had no linkages, or very few of them. Consequently, although it is accepted that outsiders, such as the imperial officials, had to integrate quickly into local networks, or even create their own (a situation the crown tried to avoid), the mechanisms by which people with little or no experience or knowledge of a society interacted with complicated local networks are seldom explained.
Although the marquis of Villagarcía retracted his initial acceptance of the post and thus never became a royal official, or made his way to Spanish America, the preserved correspondence around his appointment illuminates how a soon-to-become imperial official could insert himself into the transatlantic networks of patronage. This case evidences how the familial and imperial networks reacted, moved and adapted, bringing into their webs people who had not even departed from Spain. It is extremely likely that if Villagarcía had finally accepted the post and made the journey to La Plata he would have enjoyed benefits from these preestablished networks once in America.
Through the examination of Villagarcía's correspondence, I will show how an imperial official, while still in Spain and even before departing to the New World, could participate in American patronage, both by recruitment into existing networks and by building his own. The key to the swift integration between the American and European networks, I argue, rested in the imperial and global nature of those networks. Most imperial officials, with their families and towns as their base, nurtured multiple connections that transcended local frontiers and linked them with faraway provinces, most importantly with the royal court, but also with other regions of the empire. However, these officials also relied on the established official networks of the empire. Imperial officials, by combining personal and imperial networks, were able to gather information about people and events across the globe and exert their own influence on them. Thus, the operation of the empire rested upon communication among a diverse, overlapping collection of networks linking distant and geographically disconnected regions. The quantity and quality of knowledge managed by government officials, and the ease and swiftness with which they transmitted information from one side of the empire to the other, speaks to the sophistication of the system. When officials set foot for the first time in a distant and strange land, they already had in place a web of contacts and knowledge that shaped their behavior.
By looking at the networks of patronage through this imperial perspective, I highlight the profound integration and fluidity that existed between the various regions that composed the Spanish monarchy. The case of the marquis of Villagarcía demonstrates that the American and European networks of patronage are impossible to disentangle, that American deals could very well be brokered in Europe, and that the most intimate interactions within a Galician noble household could affect the government of America.
By the second half of the seventeenth century, the many linkages—private and official, legal and illegal—that connected the various centers of the far-flung Spanish Empire were consolidated and working smoothly, allowing for the swift integration of the monarchy; the transmission of goods, information, and knowledge; and the global mobility of the imperial officials. While these networks were sometimes used for advancing private and illicit interests that went against the ideal administration of the polity, in the long run the entanglement of these overlapping networks kept the empire together, made possible its government, and secured the Spanish king's authority and sovereignty.
Before the Letters
Don Mauro de Mendoza Caamaño y Sotomayor was born, most probably, in 1594 and baptized in 1607. He was the sixth and last son of don Rodrigo de Mendoza and doña Urraca Moscoso y Sotomayor, both members of long-established Galician aristocratic families. As the youngest boy, his hopes of inheriting the mayorazgo, the familial estate entailed to the first-born, were almost nonexistent. Consequently, in a classic maneuver that served to retain the estates within the family and to secure don Mauro enough resources for his advancement, he was married to his niece, doña Antonia Caamaño y Mendoza (daughter of his sister, doña Ana María de Mendoza, and don José de Caamaño y Figueroa), who inherited from her father the señorío of Rubianes, a branch of the family possessions.Footnote 8 As a young man, don Mauro had been a colegial mayor of Oviedo at the University of Salamanca and in 1623 entered the Order of Calatrava. All of this training, and the relationships acquired along the way, put him on track to seek royal patronage, a smart and natural move for someone of his condition.Footnote 9
After 1653, don Mauro's luck and fate improved dramatically. After the premature deaths of two of his older brothers, two nephews, and a grandnephew, he unexpectedly became the inheritor of his family's mayorazgo, adding to his possessions the señoríos of Villagarcía, Barrantes, and Vistalegre.Footnote 10 A couple of years later, at the request of don Mauro's older brother, the archbishop of Santiago de Compostela, don Fernando de Andrade y Sotomayor, King Philip IV rewarded the family's services, naming the lucky survivor viscount of Barrantes (1654) and marquis of Villagarcía (1655).Footnote 11
Furthermore, in 1656 the new marquis became a procurador (representative) of Galicia in the Cortes (General Assembly) of Castile that were held in Madrid from 1655 to 1658.Footnote 12 This position surely was beneficial for the marquis of Villagarcía. Not only had the crown rewarded his services with one of the most substantive bounties given to procuradores—an encomienda of 1,000 ducats (once it became available; in the meantime he was to enjoy a rent of 600 ducats from the soldiers of Galicia)—but Villagarcía was also granted access to the king and his court, and in this way, to the inner circles of the imperial networks of patronage.Footnote 13
It was in this context that on September 17, 1657, the king appointed Villagarcía as president of Los Charcas.Footnote 14 He was one of the six candidates proposed by the Chamber of the Council of the Indies to replace the current president, don Francisco de Nestares Marín, who had served in the post since 1647 and in December 1655 was granted license to return to Spain and rewarded with a seat in the Council of the Indies.Footnote 15 Earlier, in 1655, the king had appointed don Bernardino de Meneses, at that time president of the audiencia of Santo Domingo, as the new president of Charcas, but Meneses had died in Cartagena de Indias while traveling to occupy the post. Therefore, the councilors were urged to designate a substitute as soon as possible.
Nonetheless, finding a suitable official was not easy, as the position had some particular requirements. The bitter conflict between Basques and Andalusians that shocked Potosí some decades before was still fresh in the memory of the king and his councilors, so the new president could not be someone from Biscay, Andalusia, or Extremadura, and had to be a skillful political operator.Footnote 16 In their 1657 consultation, the councilors presented three candidates togados and three of capa y espada.Footnote 17 Don Mauro de Mendoza was ranked second among the latter.Footnote 18 The councilors acknowledged that they did not have the relación of the marquis, or that of any of the other candidates. They affirmed, however, that such documentation was not necessary, as the subjects in question had so much credit and honor. The claim made by Villagarcía and his retainers that his appointment was unsolicited seems to be true, and it is nothing less than certain that his recently acquired marquisate and active role in the Cortes in Madrid put him under the radar of the king and his councilors.
Familial Networks of the Marquis of Villagarcía
The news of the appointment of the marquis circulated immediately. Although don Mauro normally resided in Galicia, he was still in Madrid at the time, in the company of his then 19-year-old son Antonio, and serving in the Cortes. It did not take long before letters from various parts of the peninsula began to arrive in Madrid. Villagarcía had himself informed many people about his nomination, while others received the news through other channels, including short letters, local gossip, and informal talk. Between October of 1657 and January of 1658, the marquis received at least 44 letters.
The list of people who congratulated Villagarcía was long and varied, suggesting the range and variety of his relationships. He took part in several patronage networks, acting sometimes as patron and others as client. The importance of the ties of paisanaje (fellowship among countrymen) in his life and career is evident. Most of Villagarcía's correspondents were from Galicia, and they appear to have been his friends and comrades. Such was the case even with the powerful cardinal Baltasar Moscoso y Sandoval, archbishop of Toledo. The two men had common childhood and adolescent experiences and were probably related.Footnote 19 Sandoval was the first person to congratulate the marquis by letter, and in the missive addressed him in reverential terms, even calling him “My Lord.”Footnote 20 However, it is highly unlikely that the most important cardinal of Spain was a client of the marquis. In this case, such an expression did not indicate a relationship of clientage but rather a use of the rhetoric of patronage to signal respect and familiarity. Theirs was a bond of friendship.
The fact that patronage was expressed using a language of friendship and also that friends, as in this case, drew on patronage phrasing, further complicates our understanding of these bonds. As Sharon Kettering, a historian of seventeenth-century French patronage, notes, patronage and friendship were closely related but different types of personal relationships. While patronage could evolve from friendship, not all friends engaged in patronage, nor were all clients friends. Moreover, friendship was less dependent on obligatory favors and retributions.Footnote 21 Nonetheless, as will be seen shortly, the early modern practices and understandings of friendship spawned powerful ties that provided legitimacy to the whole political system.
Some of the strongest and most important ties of patronage appeared among kinsmen. Relatives of Villagarcía soon manifested their joy at his nomination.Footnote 22 It is important to note that “family” was understood in a very broad sense. Members of the family included, of course, the grandparents, but also uncles and aunts, cousins, nephews, and, very importantly, the in-laws. Moreover, there was an awareness of the familial branches and connections. Even very distant relatives were thought of as part of the family.Footnote 23 No doubt the family was the primary source of identity, as well as the most immediate source of assistance and patronage.
The culture and language of patronage also informed family structure. It was the father, the head of the family, who was the first patron. He was duty-bound to take care of and reward the other members of his family. According to Kettering, “the role of the patron was modeled on that of the patriarchal father … and the role of client on [the] loyal, obedient family member and servant.”Footnote 24 In this respect, patronage was closely related to patriarchy, which Bianca Premo has defined as the “belief that multiple individuals—male and female, young and old—were naturally subordinate to an authority figure, usually a male, who held superiority based on the hierarchical model of the Western family.” Patriarchy shaped power relations throughout the empire, not only within the family; it structured the whole of the Spanish Empire, “with the king taking the role of father.”Footnote 25
Throughout these letters, the importance of looking for an office for Villagarcía's eldest son Antonio, is constantly mentioned. There were two major explanations for this goal. First, following the patriarchal scheme, it was assumed that the personal, social, and political improvement of the marquises’ offspring depended on what his father could obtain for him. The second one is that a person's advancement was tied to service to the king, even in the case of the noblemen. By the seventeenth century, the Spanish monarchy had managed to get hold of power and to control the traditionally unruly noble families, which, particularly through royal service, had become entwined with the imperial institutions, networks, and projects.Footnote 26
The relationship between familial patronage, royal service, and personal advancement is explicit in the case of don Mauro himself. His arranged marriage secured him sufficient monetary and honorific means for his sustenance and promotion. Clearly, he owed much of his estates and titles to his niece/wife. Likewise, throughout his life, he benefited from the patronage of his older brother, bishop Fernando de Andrade y Sotomayor, who arduously worked for the political, social, and economical advancement of his kin.Footnote 27
Unsurprisingly, once don Mauro consolidated his position, he followed the same pattern and did everything he could to support his offspring. Some years after his rejection of the appointment as president of Los Charcas, the marquis continued to benefit greatly from royal patronage. In November 1665, he was appointed Mariana de Austria's mayordomo. This was the first courtier appointment the queen made during her regency, which had started some weeks earlier. Villagarcía's new employment fully opened the door of royal bounty for the rest of his family, and soon his relatives occupied various positions close to the monarchical figures. His daughter, Melchora de Mendoza y Sotomayor, was made dama de la reina in 1671; son Baltasar Francisco served as the king's sumiller de cortina. Moreover, in 1673, the then-widowed marquise, doña Antonia, was received as Mariana de Austria's dueña de honor, an office she held until the queen died.
The greatest beneficiary of royal favor was don Mauro's oldest son, Antonio, who was named gentilhombre de cámara in 1675 and from 1670 forward served as a royal ambassador, first in Paris, then in Genoa, and then in Venice. Later, he occupied a seat on the Council of War, and finally, after rejecting the viceroyalty of Peru, was appointed viceroy of Valencia. His son José Antonio followed this path, too. After serving as ambassador in Venice and as the last viceroy of Catalonia, he was appointed viceroy of Peru in 1735. He accepted the nomination and finally a Villagarcía crossed the Atlantic. José Antonio's son, Rodrigo, was made grande (the Spanish highest dignity of nobility) in 1761, certifying the rise of the family in just over 100 years.Footnote 28
Furthermore, the marquis's private correspondence allows us to explore how the culture of patronage and mobility defined his intimate relationships. Among the collection of letters, two are written by the marquise, doña Antonia de Caamaño Mendoza, to her husband. In the exclusively male world of Spanish officialdom, letters by women to their living husbands openly discussing the convenience of accepting an office are, to say the least, rare.Footnote 29 However, on this occasion we can gain a sense of how a woman understood the transatlantic journey, the networks that she established, how she influenced the official's mobility, and how patronage culture was also shaped by family interactions and negotiations.
Before analyzing doña Antonia's letters, it is worth looking at the role played by the marquises’ chaplain, the inquisitor don Pedro de Navia, who was also archdeacon of Mendo and canon at the cathedral of Santiago de Compostela, where he resided. As already noted, early modern families encompassed many more members than just those related by blood, or even cohabiting under the same roof. Such was the case of this confessor, who despite not being a direct relative to the Villagarcías, and living in a different town, had a great influence on the family's development. Navia had been around the family for a long time. He had been Fernando de Andrade's right hand since at least his time in Burgos in the 1630s. As his long-lasting and closest retainer, Navia probably inherited some of the bishop's authority.Footnote 30
Patronage and spiritual bonds could be as forceful as kin. In the early modern world, chaplains, confessors, and spiritual advisors were figures of special importance.Footnote 31 They were present everywhere, from the most humble villages to the noble households. Chaplains were not only moral advisors, but also political and economic agents. Of Villagarcía's preserved letters, the first two were written by his chaplain. The first missive was addressed to the marquis, while the second was to doña Antonia. In those two letters, the importance of Navia as an advisor to both of the spouses was clearly manifested. He was the lady's confidant, and also her interlocutor in front of her husband. Additionally, he acted as the couple's administrator and took care of several of their businesses.
In his first letter to the marquis, on October 7, 1657, Navia expressed his doubts and confusion about Villagarcía's decision to embark on the journey. He worried about the possible harmful consequences for doña Ana and their children. Manifesting their high degree of intimacy, the chaplain also told the marquis, “I do not know how my lady the marquise will feel about that, but it is my understanding that she will always conform to the judgment of your lordship.” He felt the liberty, and perhaps the obligation, of speaking on behalf of the marquise. Moreover, don Pedro confirmed that the lady, who had remained in their town of Vista Alegre in Galicia while the marquis went to Madrid, had received the letters don Mauro wrote her. He was an intermediary between the spouses, even having access to their communications.Footnote 32
The following day, Navia wrote to the marquise. In this letter, too, he discussed his fears and perplexity about the marquis's appointment. He told her about the rumors that were running rapidly through the city of Santiago. Everyone had an opinion of whether Villagarcía should or should not go to America. Some affirmed that the presidency was a position of such importance that it could not be turned down, while others (among them don Pedro) feared the journey because Los Charcas was “the furthest in the Indies.”Footnote 33
Charcas epitomized many of the tropes associated with the New World, and being appointed as president of the Audiencia of Charcas was certainly considered a great honor, mainly because the famous silver mines of Potosí were under its jurisdiction. Both the region and the position were closely associated with the greatest wealth of the empire, with the very source of the silver that fueled Spanish imperialism and aspirations of global domain.Footnote 34 However, Charcas was also a distant place, and it was imagined as one of the most remote possessions of the Spanish king. Not only was it thousands of miles away from Spain, but getting there was truly an odyssey, from which many did not return. Accordingly, some of Villagarcía's correspondents described Charcas as one of the most industrious and advanced cities of the empire, with no reason to envy a metropolis such as Lima or Madrid.Footnote 35 Nevertheless, others emphasized that the region was the farthest away from the monarch and because of its weather and altitude, living there would be in no way easy. Additionally, the social environment was aggressive and self-interest prevailed. Therefore, affirmed one of the marquis's nephews, for an official to succeed and behave righteously in that post, he needed to have as many faithful servants as possible to protect him and execute his will.Footnote 36
In his letter to the marquise, Navia also informed her that he had chatted with two friends of the family. They had discussed the pros and cons of the post and whether the marquise should go with her husband, to which the chaplain replied, “Your Ladyship was so willing to obey the marquis and [you are] such a loving mother of your children that you would do whatever His Lordship would order.”Footnote 37 Once again, Navia appeared not only as the interlocutor, but as the public voice of the marquise.
Moreover, such an affirmation expressed the ideal role of the woman in a patriarchal society. The marquise was expected to follow her husband's commands. The nature of the bond was a consolidation of the father as ruler and patron, and of the wife as his retainer. Early modern societies were built on pacts among elite men, which helped to foster the rule of the men and the father and the submission of women and children.Footnote 38 Through these arrangements, men attempted to control families as well as material resources and the paths to political positions and authority. The king as “father” was an ideological construction sustained by his ability to reward and protect his “children.” Thus, patriarchy was the ideology behind the hierarchical society, while patronage and the bonds it generated were both expressions of such hierarchies and a political mechanism that facilitated such an unequal society and prevented social conflict and unrest from boiling over.Footnote 39
Nevertheless, this arrangement was never something fixed, and there was plenty of room for negotiation. Doña Antonia was also the first and most important counselor of her husband and had a major influence on his decisions. Thus, Navia reassured the marquise, even though she had to comply with her husband's resolutions: “You should present him all the difficulties that you could think of.” He also suggested that she lay out her arguments as smoothly and kindly as possible “in order to seize the opportunity and get what you want.”Footnote 40 Doña Antonia followed the advice of her chaplain and wrote a carefully crafted letter to her husband, exposing her reticence to undertaking the transatlantic journey.Footnote 41 She began by emphasizing that she was always to obey and follow him. However, it is worth highlighting the tone in which she wrote. She addressed him as “tú,” in the most familiar way. Most likely, given a context in which protocol mattered deeply and was highly regulated, she was probably the only person who would have done that.Footnote 42 Despite at first calling him “my owner” and reviewing the hierarchy within the family, she also spoke to him as an equal. Moreover, in various passages of the letter she called him “friend of mine.” Friendship was, indeed, one of the strongest bonds of a couple.
The words don Mauro and doña Antonia exchanged should not be understood as the expression of romantic feelings. In a world in which many feelings were considered not private but belonging to the public sphere, friendship and love were not necessarily romantic values. Instead, they were the basis of social and political contracts.Footnote 43 Ideas of friendship sustained patronage culture and language. Patronage was ultimately understood as a relationship of friendship in which people made and owed favors to others. By calling him her friend, the marquise was making evident their profound bond and mutual dependency. Let us not forget that there are many aspects to marriage, and many reasons why people chose to marry.Footnote 44 Just as in almost any other early modern marriage, the Villagarcía's union was instrumental. The marquis married his niece not necessarily because he felt in love with her, but because it was a social, political, and economic arrangement. Therefore, the language and expressions of love and friendship did not refer exclusively to private feelings, but also to the bond of patronage. Even couples were expressed and shaped in terms of patronage.
The marquise's words of obedience were immediately followed by a request that her husband listen to her opinions. She affirmed, “You would also want me to tell you the objections that I have, not for any other thing but for you to weigh them, and then, choose at your own will.”Footnote 45 It was her duty to offer counsel to her husband, and it was his right to act according to his own will, after having carefully deliberated. This is another expression of the Spanish political culture being put into practice within the most basic unit of society. The way in which doña Antonia offered her advice clearly resonates with the early modern conception of the king's authority and obligations. It was accepted that the monarch had absolute power, but this did not mean that he could do whatever he wanted without restraint. To the contrary, the king was expected to listen carefully to his councilors before making any decision.Footnote 46
The marquise expressed several objections to embarking on the transatlantic enterprise. She complained about the long distance. Because the journey would be taxing for their younger children, they would have to be left at home, with only don Pedro de Navia to look after them.Footnote 47 Even if they were to bring with them their eldest son, Antonio, she would be worried about his safety and would still miss the rest of the family, whom she probably would never see again. Furthermore, they would have to find someone to manage their estates. It was in her view very likely that in their absence their farm would not profit as much and “all that is acquired there [in America] will be lost here.”
This entire scene anguished the marquise. She sought counsel and solace in none other than her chaplain, who “as father and friend speaks his feelings.” Once again, friendship and counsel, now from the retainer and spiritual advisor, appear deeply intertwined in these networks of patronage. Finally, she begged the marquis to return home to see her and to leave things properly arranged. She told her husband to use her poor health condition as an excuse to leave the court, and even to reject the nomination and to request another office.Footnote 48
A week later, the marquise wrote a second letter revealing, with some bitter words, her disillusion with her husband's determination to accept the post and go to Los Charcas. At the same time, she reassured him “that whatever you would order and decide I will obey with pleasure because I do not have any other [pleasure] than yours.” However, doña Antonia also reprimanded don Mauro for rushing to his decision, and for not taking more time to think it over. She continued with her objections and, now in a more aggressive tone, told him that no one believed that the proposed position was a proper one for him: “All who hear that such post has been given to you laugh only at the thought that we might even have considered going there.” She definitely did not want to go.
The marquise, thus, offered her husband a way out. Although he had already said yes to the king's offer, he could always say that although he much wanted to go to the Indies to serve the king, he could not do it because of the marquise's poor health and because none of their relatives approved of the journey. She suggested don Mauro that he negotiate with the crown to trade the post for another one in Spain, or to find a way to place their son Antonio in some office.Footnote 49 Villagarcía took the words of his wife very seriously. He labeled the first letter with the following title: “From the marquise, with her warnings and objections, as prudent and rational as she herself, on the trip to Charcas. I shall read this letter many times with all veneration and esteem.”Footnote 50
The opinion of the marquise mattered to her husband, and it was not with empty words that he affirmed he ought to read the letters carefully. Although at first he had accepted going to the Indies, he retracted at the last minute. On February 8, 1658, the secretary of the Council of the Indies, don Juan Bautista Sáenz de Navarrete, urged the marquis to get his official title of president of Charcas as soon as possible, because he should plan to embark with the fleet headed for Tierra Firme that was soon to depart.Footnote 51 A week later, the marquis replied that he had no problem in getting the title, but that he found it difficult to consider embarking with the fleet. As much as he desired to serve and obey the king, he stated, he needed to go home first, to see his wife and children. Furthermore, he expressed his worry over his personal finances and his estates, because being so far away could damage his interests. Finally, don Mauro argued that he had very young children who could not go with him, and he had to find someone to whom to entrust their care and education.Footnote 52 Even though the marquis at no point mentioned the communications with his wife, it is clear that Villagarcía had read the letter and objections of the marquise carefully, and several times. All of the arguments he presented were the ones that doña Antonia had given him.
The secretary wrote back, telling the marquis that he had known about the appointment long enough to have had time to go to Galicia and make all the needed arrangements, but that the council could understand his reasons to delay the journey and that he would be allowed to embark in the next year's fleet. Nonetheless, the council commanded him to state clearly if he was certain to travel or not.Footnote 53 Villagarcía answered in the most ambiguous way, saying that his wish was always to serve and go wherever he was ordered, but that he could not assure anything, being ignorant of God's designs and of the future contingencies that might arise to not only complicate but make impossible his travel. Therefore, he would accept, humbly and with resignation, the council's decision to appoint someone else to the post.Footnote 54 Several months later, the marquis wrote the secretary to find out the council's decision on the matter; it seems that after his vague answer, he did not receive any other communications.Footnote 55 Sáenz de Navarrete's reply was rather curt, informing him only that don Luis de Baraona Sarabia, judge in the High Court of Valladolid, had been appointed for the presidency of Los Charcas and that he had accepted it. No further explanations or indications were given.Footnote 56
The excuses given by Villagarcía were not unusual, and we cannot be sure of the rationale that ultimately moved the marquis to relinquish the office he had initially accepted. Perhaps it was the fear of an extenuating journey, the uncertainty about his future return, or even disenchantment with the post. However, what is interesting about his case is that we know for sure that he retracted after his wife told him to do so, and that his response to the council followed, almost literally, the letters that doña Antonia sent him four months before. While it is assumed that officials, like any other men, were influenced by their wives, historians seldom have such striking evidence. The marquise's letters constitute, at least to my knowledge, one of the few explicit pieces of evidence in which a wife openly discusses the suitability of her husband's service to the king. The history of Spanish political culture is usually written in masculine terms. Men are granted the action and the decision-making authority; on this occasion, however, we can confidently say that it was the couple who made the choice.
These private documents complicate our understanding of the inner dynamics of early modern families, as well as of patriarchy and the agency of women in that period.Footnote 57 In fact, the rule of the father, even of someone as powerful as a nobleman, was much conditioned by others, and particularly by his own spouse. The obedient and submissive wife could rely on subtle methods to impose her will, and she did not even need to be physically with him. While the preeminence of the father figure is undeniable, some women made opportunities to influence their husbands by maneuvering the same tools and practices that solidified men's power—those of counsel, friendship, and patronage. Familial negotiations affected the activities of royal officials. Their service, and ultimately the rule of the empire, was permeable to what intimate actors thought, said, and did. Indeed, familial and imperial service and patronage were tightly bound.
Patronage Networks in a Global Empire
Despite being constituted by personal and local bonds, the networks of patronage were not constrained by geography. Villagarcía's large network of clients provided him with resources, information, and even contacts that the proposed president of Charcas alone could not obtain. In fact, at the time of his appointment he had few American connections and little knowledge about America or the post in which he had been selected to serve. His chaplain bluntly affirmed that “there is no one here that has been in the Indies who could inform me,” so he was “without any knowledge … as it happened to the Lord Marquis when he was appointed.” Proof of his ignorance was that Navia, at first, believed that his friend, doctor Peña, who was serving as bishop of Quito, would be very pleased to have the marquis so close.Footnote 58 Of course, Quito and La Plata are more than 2000 miles apart. He did not know much about America, other than the circulating generalities, clichés, and especially, gossip. Navia also claimed that some retainer of don Francisco de Nestares Marín, the president of Charcas who Villagarcía was to replace, had assured him that Nestares had already sent to his relatives in Spain over 500,000 pesos during his time in the office, something which the marquis would never be able to do, because Nestares “is very cunning and Your Lordship will never be so for acquiring so much.”Footnote 59 Navia's accusation is a surprising judgment of someone who historians have portrayed as a champion of the fight against corruption.Footnote 60
Therefore, in order to overcome his ignorance and lack of direct, personal connections, don Mauro wrote to some of his clients who could serve as brokers and contacted others who could offer what he needed. Sharon Kettering contends that brokers were essential intermediaries in the patronage system because it was through them that patrons could reach out to other clients and resources. Nonetheless, a broker was not a mere go-between, but supplemented the exchange with his own resources. Brokers had clients of their own, and, suggests Kettering, it was that preexisting network that secured them patronage and qualified them as brokers. Thus, brokers were not “created” by their patrons, although they may have been promoted and protected by them.Footnote 61 While Kettering studied the French case, much of her conclusions serve to illustrate Spanish patronage, despite the latter being much larger and more complex and more sophisticated. Thanks to a clever use of Spanish and native brokers, Spanish officials accessed information and resources from all over the world that otherwise were inaccessible to them, facilitating the rule of the empire.
Captain don Mauro de Pardiñas Villar de Francos, a native of Galicia and related to the marquis through the Caamaños, was based in Cádiz and there conducted some of Villagarcía's business, for example, the trade in indigo. He soon became the marquis's intermediary and his gateway into American networks.Footnote 62 Although the communication between Villagarcía and Pardiñas had been scant over the previous months, Villagarcía reactivated it by reaching out to his client. Pardiñas replied promptly and was eager to serve. After reaffirming his bonds to the marquis and his family, he congratulated Villagarcía for his appointment and offered his valuable services.Footnote 63 Evidently, his location in an Atlantic port city gave this client and broker a privileged position, and he tried to make the most of such a situation. He invited the marquis to stay at his house in Cádiz before his departure, and more importantly, he soon began to collect information about Charcas, the travel routes, and the inner workings of the royal institutions.
The next day Pardiñas wrote again, now with practical information.Footnote 64 He asserted that the best way to get to Charcas was via Buenos Aires, and not by the official path that went with the fleet through Panama. Moreover, he proposed a way of traveling that would cost Villagarcía nothing. He assured him, that if requested properly, the marquis could obtain royal permission to sail to Buenos Aires in a bajel de visita, a single ship that would cross the Atlantic alone. Pardiñas guaranteed the marquis that if he got the permission, he could contact people who would prepare the ship and provide the crew at no cost, “this, it is understood, by letting them embark their estate into the ship.” In effect, Pardiñas was proposing to partake in, or at least to facilitate, smuggling merchandise into America. The offer suggests how easily a new imperial official—supposedly a key defender of the king's interest, which included preventing illicit trade—could insert himself into the contraband networks operating in the Atlantic. This case exposes the occasional contradictions between the imperial and private networks, and how officials sometimes used their own resources to improve their rule and enhance imperial power, while on other occasions the same networks could go against royal orders and legislation.
Pardiñas also wrote to a client of his own, don Francisco de Soto Guzmán, who had resided for a time in Charcas but now was back in the peninsula and had firsthand knowledge of the region.Footnote 65 At the request of Pardiñas, Soto Guzmán prepared a document containing detailed information on the travel routes and confirmed that the most comfortable, shortest, and cheapest route was through Buenos Aires. Soto Guzmán also gave advice on the procedure that the marquis should follow to obtain the license to sail directly to that port.Footnote 66 He provided examples of officials who in the past had received permission to do so, such as don Juan de Palacios, who sailed from Lisbon around 1638 to his post as inspector of the Audiencia of La Plata, and don Pedro de Baigorri, who at the time of don Mauro's appointment was the governor of Buenos Aires and had departed from Cádiz in 1652.
The information provided by Soto Guzmán is truly impressive. Not only did he know the duration and distances of the travel to Charcas, but he also identified people serving at various posts who should be contacted. Displaying his knowledge of many American actors and their interests, he also recommended getting in touch with the court agent of Nestares Marín, because that official was also seeking a permission to travel directly from Buenos Aires to Spain. Soto Guzmán was not sure who this agent was (he believed that it was Nestares's nephew, don Jacinto de Nestares Marín, canon in Palencia); thus he suggested asking the secretary of the Council of the Indies, don Juan Bautista Sáenz Navarrete, for the name of the agent. In this way, Soto Guzmán and Pardiñas were smoothing and guiding the formation of the marquis's networks in the New World, even before he set foot on the continent.
Unsurprisingly, some days after writing this document, which Pardiñas forwarded to the marquis, Soto Guzmán himself wrote to Villagarcía offering his services. The network of patronage and the marquis's list of clients continued to grow. Soto Guzmán begged, “You admit me as your servant, and as such order me as you would please.”Footnote 67 This is a rare and explicit example of how new patronage relationships were formed. Soto Guzmán asked to be accepted as a client after he had served Villagarcía and before he had received any reward, other than the hope of future bounty. He had many interests in America, and certainly having the president of Charcas as a patron would be of great advantage.Footnote 68 The culture of patronage gave meaning to and articulated the Spanish monarchy. Two persons with different origins, goals, and even locations interacted and engaged by means of the language and mutually beneficial practices of patronage, and in their exchanges demonstrated what in the long run made the global empire feasible.
Pardiñas and Soto Guzmán were certainly eager to help Villagarcía. They saw in the future president of Los Charcas a potential opportunity for their own advancement. These two young and ambitious men, with previous connections and investments in America and a firm resolve to promote themselves and their families, were expecting to engage with the future network that was taking shape around the marquis. As brokers, they aspired to occupy a privileged position in such a network and thus be able to foment their own networks.
Nonetheless, Villagarcía did not rely only on Pardiñas and Soto Guzmán. His position and large network gave him access to more people, resources, and information on the faraway region. Don Gómez Dávila, the designated future corregidor of Potosí, wrote the marquis as soon as he found out about Villagarcía's nomination. Dávila rushed to present himself to offer his services and obedience, and to establish a relationship with his soon-to-be superior.Footnote 69 Likewise, the marquis received letters from don Felipe Obregón y Cereceda, a vecino and city councilor of Potosí who at the time was also in Madrid representing that city and its guild miners seeking permission to ship via Buenos Aires the azogue (mercury) and other items necessary for mining.Footnote 70 The miners were a powerful and rich collective, who, through the use of azogue, refined the silver extracted from the mine and produced silver bars.
Although we do not know for sure how these two men met, we can assume that news of Villagarcía's appointment was circulating in the court and that Obregón was eager to contact the new president and bring him into his network, or at least, not to antagonize him. Surely, people in Potosí were anxious to know the successor of Nestares, who by that time had already carried out his investigation and clashed with most of Potosí’s elite. Silver refinery owners were hoping for a new president, one who would be more lenient to their practices.Footnote 71 Because the crown controlled the production and transportation of mercury, and one of the most important duties of the president of Charcas was to distribute this mineral, the miners and the imperial official had a close but tense relationship.Footnote 72 Obregón also gave detailed information on the length, difficulty, and costs of the two possible travel routes (through either Panama or Buenos Aires) to the province of Charcas.Footnote 73 Additionally, he wrote a letter with extended information on the mining center of Potosí, its history, population, weather, the veins available to be worked, its royal offices, and even its bakeries.Footnote 74
In his report, Obregón also outlined the duties of the president of the Audiencia, noting that he would have to live five months in Potosí each year to oversee the distribution of mercury, the collection of the king's money, and the dispatch of the silver to Lima. He hinted that in such a post Villagarcía could make up to 150,000 pesos—a truly large sum, to be gained not on salary, evidently, but “in the things that in detail I have recounted to Your Lordship.”Footnote 75 All this would come on top of “the revenues that in such realm can obtain don Antonio,” the son of the marquis.Footnote 76 Although what Obregón was referring to exactly remains cloudy, it is safe to presume that he was engaged in shady activities. Obregón was keen to ally with the person responsible for overseeing mining production, as that person could facilitate several of his illegal practices. Once again, the new president, who had not even departed from Spain, was being exposed to private businesses and invited to join them and the existing local networks.
Scholars have for long observed royal officials’ involvement with local networks in spite of the many laws that explicitly forbade such associations. Rivers of ink have been spilled discussing the nature of those relationships and their consequences for the government of local societies and the empire overall. Central to the discussion has been the debate on whether or not those practices could be catalogued as corruption.Footnote 77 On one hand, some authors have seen these practices as blatant corruption, which led to an inefficient government and ultimately to the decline of the crown's power.Footnote 78 On the other hand, historians such as Alejandro Cañeque or Tamar Herzog—without neglecting the truth that royal officials many times misbehaved and committed abuses—claim that it is a mistake to apply the concept of corruption to early modern societies, as it misunderstands the political culture of the time in which the public and the private spheres were not clearly separated, and patronage, gift-giving, and bountifulness, therefore, were central traits of a good ruler.Footnote 79
For the specific case of seventeenth-century Buenos Aires, Zacarías Moutoukias has cleverly argued that, contrary to what one might initially suspect, contraband and other illicit practices in which imperial officials were involved did not diminish imperial power. In fact, those practices would have served to consolidate Spanish power and presence in the region. Buenos Aires was in a peculiar position within the geopolitics of the Spanish Empire: the port was on the fringes of the official commercial routes that linked Seville with Lima, but nonetheless, as has been already noted, it provided the easiest way into Potosí and was vital for the military defense of the whole area. To secure the survival and provisioning of Buenos Aires and its administrative and military structures, the crown resorted for transport to navíos de registro—ships with special permission to sail directly from the peninsula, like the one suggested by Pardiñas—and for money on silver shipments from Potosí. Although navíos de registro were legally authorized to carry some goods, evidence shows that smuggling was a common practice, and there was a great difference between the amount of goods officially declared and the amount actually transported.
The crown, argues Moutoukias, was well aware of this practice and did not do much to stop it. From time to time, some fines were imposed on the ship owners and pilots, who assumed them as a reasonable fee to pay and part of their operational costs. Moreover, the networks, agents, routes, intermediaries, and methods used by these ships were similar to those of the foreign smugglers. Therefore, the legal and illegal practices were blurred and became indistinguishable one from the other, and the crown much benefited from both. Smuggling was central for the flourishing port's economy, and corruption served to integrate the royal representatives, the local elites, and the international trade networks.Footnote 80
This panorama coincides with the comments and proposals made by the marquis of Villagarcía's interlocutors. The option of sailing directly to Buenos Aires on a bajel de visita and looking the other way when the ship owners loaded their goods was fully feasible. In fact, the years 1657 to 1665 were the years of greatest port activity in Buenos Aires and the period of the century when more ships of this kind were authorized by the crown.Footnote 81 Certainly, the legal and the illegal, the private and the public, juxtaposed with ease. The interconnections of various networks of trade and patronage allowed for the survival of the Spanish Empire. Debating whether the proposals made to the marquis and future imperial official constitute corruption does not add much to our understanding of the workings of the imperial networks. Instead, I suggest, it is more useful to look at the inner dynamics of such a system. The case of Villagarcía illuminates how the networks of patronage were activated and beginning to function, much before the official took office or even departed from the peninsula.
Because of the local nature of the illegal activities, scholars have usually interpreted and studied them mostly from a local perspective, as if American practices were unrelated to the events in Spain and Europe. Moreover, some historians have claimed that corruption was an almost exclusively American phenomenon.Footnote 82 Madrid and La Plata could appear as two completely unrelated regions, literally an ocean apart. However, the correspondence of Villagarcía shows the great level of communication and the synchronization that existed between these places, despite the distance. Officials’ engagement with local networks did not need to be limited to local events, but actually had an imperial dimension. American corruption could very much take place or be originated far from America—even in the royal court itself.
As we can see, there was not a clear divide between the American and the European networks, nor a radical difference between officials born in any of those continents. In their influential work on the Spanish crown in the Americas, Mark Burkholder and D. S. Chandler define the period from 1687, when Charles II started to systematically sell the office of oidor in the American audiencias, to 1750 as an “age of impotence.” During this time, at least 44 percent of the oidor appointments fell to Americans, mostly by means of purchase. This situation, argue the authors, weakened the king's authority, as the judges tended to favor local interests over those of the crown. Subsequently, the sovereign tried to restore his authority by abolishing the sale of offices and discriminating against Americans seeking posts.Footnote 83 Burkholder and Chandler present the American and European officials as representatives of two distinct and most often opposing spheres. The underlying idea of this argument is that Europeans would favor European interests, which included those of the monarch, while Americans would look out only for American interests, which are presumed to be in contradiction to those of the king. However, the case of Villagarcía complicates such seemingly evident separation. The marquis did not need to be an American, or even to be in America for that matter, to align with the interests of the American elites and become involved in their networks. It seems, at least during much of the seventeenth century, that some of the American networks and interests could become inseparable from the European ones.Footnote 84
In another letter to Villagarcía, Pardiñas remarked that if the right buttons were pushed, there should not be a problem in gaining permission to sail to Buenos Aires. He argued that the processing could be expedited if the marquis were to be commissioned also to conduct a residencia to look into the activities of the outgoing governor of Buenos Aires, don Pedro Baigorri. Pardiñas affirmed that the excesses of Baigorri were well known and that the secretary Sáenz Navarrete sought to punish him. According to this informant, Sáenz Navarrete would be especially interested in helping out with this case because Baigorri had previously conducted a harsh residencia against his predecessor, who happened to be a “creature of the Lord Secretary.” Nonetheless, all this would have to be done as smoothly and swiftly as possible, as the secretary was a “minister who should be presumed not to have room for vengeances.” Furthermore, the secretary was also “a retainer of the person who currently is serving in the presidency of Los Charcas” (Francisco de Nestares), and thus Sáenz Navarrete wanted to satisfy Nestares's desire to return as soon as possible to Spain.Footnote 85
The culture of patronage influenced all the activities of the monarchy and its officials. Favoring or punishing someone was never an “objective” decision; rather, it was determined by a complex calculus involving multiple parties in the imperial networks of patronage, in which the activities of one person on one side of the empire had effects over the other end of the monarchy. This was especially evident for someone like Sáenz Navarrete who because of his high position stood at the epicenter of the imperial networks and maintained contact with patrons and clients throughout the empire.
In his letter, Pardiñas also recommended to don Mauro that it would be greatly beneficial to get in touch with Nestares's agent in Madrid, whom Pardiñas had already identified and located. This agent could be instrumental in getting the permission needed for embarking in a bajel de visita. Pardiñas also suggested taking advantage of Nestares's efforts to return to Spain as soon as possible. Thus, a single ship could serve both officials.Footnote 86
Agents at the royal court played a crucial role in imperial networks of patronage.Footnote 87 These intermediaries served to connect and make present the interests of remote actors. They acted as representatives of people and institutions far away, from the peninsula to the Philippines, lobbying for their interests as well as dealing with many of the cumbersome procedures inherent in imperial administration. The characteristics and nature of these agents varied greatly. They might be important noblemen, soldiers, officials, priests, or even American natives. Agents could be friends or relatives of those they represented and could act for free, while there were also ‘professional’ agents who charged a fee for their services. Sometimes, agents were men who lived permanently in Madrid, but other agents were sent to court with a specific mission and goals, as was the case of Felipe Obregón, who travelled to Spain from Potosí representing the azogueros.
Evidently, agents’ activities at court were not limited to their duties as representatives. They worked to advance their own agendas as well. Obregón took advantage of his journey and new contacts in Madrid to attempt not only to co-opt Villagarcía, but also to be rewarded by the king.Footnote 88 Therefore, there were always Americans, or men with American connections, circulating in Madrid, and the American networks and interests were quickly and easily extended into the heart of the monarchy.
Incidentally, Pardiñas also advised Villagarcía to pay attention to what the Jesuit priests were doing. In the upcoming days, about 60 priests were to depart on a direct ship to Buenos Aires with a license granted through the efforts of Fr. Julián de Pedraza, who was always looking for an opportunity to get special permission to open traffic to those provinces in order to send people and goods.Footnote 89 The networks of the religious orders were large and had great influence.Footnote 90 As a result, a person like Villagarcía could greatly benefit from them. Martín de Lezava, the Provincial of the Jesuits in Castile, was a client of the marquis and one of his chaplains. In his congratulatory letter, he offered to write to the Superior of the Jesuits in Charcas and to the rectors of the various Jesuits schools in the region, summoning them to be ready for serving the marquis.Footnote 91
These examples show how imperial networks, both secular and religious, could intertwine. Circulating around the empire were innumerable actors and networks, each constantly pressing for the greatest possible advantage. Deals (at least preliminary ones) could be made thousands of miles from the place where they would eventually be enforced, and were not necessarily contingent on local realities. There were many global networks hinged together throughout the Spanish Empire. In the case of Villagarcía, many transactions of these networks occurred at the royal court. Madrid was a major political, social, cultural, and economic hub where various networks, individuals, agents, friends, and enemies from all across the empire came together to exchange knowledge, goods, and services, thereby shaping the development of the global empire, and determining the fortunes of local actors who were thousands of miles away from Spain, but who kept an eye and ear on what was happening at the royal court.
Patronage culture and networks were the lifeblood of the early modern Spanish political system. They were central to the rule of the geographically dispersed possessions of such a far-flung empire. Officials (and their families) relied on these networks not only for ensuring local rule, but also for gaining access to information, resources, and even people who were distant (geographically and socially) from them. The immersion of these men in the local dynamics would have been impossible without the support of these networks.
The patronage networks proved to be extremely flexible. These locally based bonds—intimately linked to friendship and kinship—adapted to both the new circumstances of the global empire and the mobility of the imperial officials. While patronage was founded upon personal and direct relationships between two people, it made possible the linkages between the many scattered centers of the empire, and the strengthening of the royal authority across the world. Certainly, these networks helped to consolidate a patriarchal society with the father king at the center, as well as private power structures (whether those of the marquis of Villagarcía, the miners of Potosí, the smugglers of Buenos Aires, or the secretary of the Council of the Indies) whose interests did not always coincide directly with those of the monarchy. Although it may seem counterintuitive, the dispersion of power and the circulation of the officials did not in the long run weaken the king—quite to the contrary. Because of his monopoly over royal favor, the monarch's authority was cemented.
