A New World Order: The Spanish Campaign For Precedence In Early Modern Europe

By

Michael J. Levin

On February 16, 1564, Don Luis de Requeséns, the Spanish ambassador to the Papacy, made an impassioned speech to Pope Pius IV on the subject of precedence. His Majesty Philip II, Requeséns declared, fully expected that his ambassadors would be granted their rightful positions at the front of all official processions in Rome, as well as a place of honor among the seats during religious ceremonies. Requeséns acknowledged that in the past France had held a higher position than the Iberian kingdoms in the diplomatic hierarchy, but that was before Castile and Aragon had been united; now no king surpassed the magnificence of Philip, who ruled over lands spanning the globe.^[1] If the Pope did not acknowledge Spanish supremacy, the ambassador warned, then the Spanish embassy would withdraw from Rome, all communication would cease, and the Catholic cause in Europe would be irreparably harmed. The following month Requeséns wrote to his brother, Don Juan de Zúñiga, “I want the King to begin a war [over this conflict] more than I ever wanted anything in my life... if the King does not demonstrate great anger and sorrow in this matter of precedence, no reputation will remain for us to lose.”^[2]

In early modern Europe, status disputes were a way of life. Nobles quarreled over who sat closest to the pulpit in church, while churchmen argued over who had jurisdiction over which see or parish. Spaniards in particular had the reputation for being overly-concerned with social status and ceremonial marks of respect.^[3] Reputación (reputation, status, credibility) was itself a major factor in early modern Spanish foreign policy; Requeséns’ declaration about the importance of reputation finds many echoes throughout Spanish Habsburg correspondence.^[4] This particular dispute over diplomatic protocol, however, came at the sensitive moment of the transition of power from Charles V to Philip II.^[5] In the period 1556-1558, Charles abdicated his thrones, and divided his patrimony between his brother Ferdinand (who became Holy Roman Emperor) and his son Philip, the new King of Spain; the rest of Europe had to readjust to this unprecedented political situation. Philip needed to establish himself as “his own man,” the most powerful man in Europe and the champion of Catholicism. This was also a key period in the history of Spain, when the multinational empire of Charles became Hispanized under Philip.^[6] Spain, master of the first global empire and leader of the Counter-Reformation, acquired a new sense of itself as the center of gravity for world politics, and Spanish diplomats expected the world to acknowledge their new status. But would the other European powers, and particularly France, acquiesce to this vision of Spanish preeminence? For Requésens and his fellow ambassadors, the issue of precedence thus took on new urgency in the late 1550s and early 1560s, as they wrestled with the problem of forging a new identity for Spain and its king.

The Papal court of Rome became the primary battlefield in the diplomatic struggle; Roman ritual and ceremony set the standards for the rest of Europe.^[7] This essay analyzes the campaign which the Spanish diplomatic corps in Italy waged in order to change the world’s perception of the power structure in Europe. It argues that the vehemence with which Spanish ambassadors insisted on standing or sitting in places of greater honor than their French counterparts reflects the magnitude of the issues at stake: control of Italy, the balance of power in Europe, and a new understanding of the world geopolitical situation. In hindsight, it is perhaps easier for historians to perceive large structural shifts than it was for the actual participants, but here we have a striking case of historical actors who were aware of momentous change and reacted to it. The diplomatic battle over precedence in the mid-sixteenth century provides us with an intimate window into how political and geopolitical shifts affected early modern Europe’s power brokers and their representatives. The fortunes, and ultimate failure, of the Spanish campaign for ceremonial honors, which lasted well into the seventeenth century, also gives us another means to gauge the rise and fall of Spain’s hegemony in early modern Europe.

Until the sixteenth century, the question of diplomatic precedence was for the most part a matter of convention. During the late Middle Ages, as the practice of maintaining representatives in foreign courts became common, an unofficial hierarchy of rulers (and their envoys) developed, with the Holy Roman Emperor universally acknowledged to be first, and France and England usually placed second and third.^[8] In 1504, a master of ceremonies in Rome-- the center stage of diplomatic protocol-- drew up a list, which acquired semi-official status. The top four crowns on this list were as follows: Holy Roman Emperor, King of the Romans, King of France, King of Spain. Although Pope Julius II did not actually promulgate this ranking system, everyone knew of it and tried to act accordingly.^[9]

Conflicts continually arose, however, as the placement of ambassadors became a matter of national and monarchical pride. Starting in the late fifteenth century, ambassadors perceived themselves as more than just messengers; they symbolized the princes they served, and were thus understood to be extensions of the King’s royal body.^[10] In early sixteenth-century England, for example, only members of the Privy Council were deemed fit to serve as resident ambassadors, because their physical proximity to the King gave them special status and allowed them to function as the King’s substitutes.^[11] By the seventeenth century, an ambassador’s chief function as a representative “was in maintaining the dignity of his master’s crown in the eternal wrangle over precedence.”^[12] The presence of the king’s representative was equivalent to that of the king himself; therefore, the order in which ambassadors entered a room, or the proximity of an ambassador’s seat to the altar in church, became a direct measure of his monarch’s status. The ceremonies and rituals of early modern diplomacy thus could serve as a “barometer for relationships between states and rulers.”^[13] No one was more aware of this than the kings and ambassadors of early modern Spain.^[14]

Although a number of rival states fought over precedence in the early modern period, no struggle matched the bitter contest between Spain and France, which of course reflects the struggle between these two powers for hegemony in Europe.^[15] Precedence disputes in the courts of Rome and Venice had particular significance due to the struggle between Spain and France for control of the Italian peninsula. Through the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, French and Spanish writers engaged in a propaganda war, each declaiming the merits of their demands for precedence.^[16] The Spanish monarchs, however, had not always insisted on supremacy over France. Until the sixteenth century, in fact, the separate kingdoms of Castile and Aragon accepted that France should be recognized as superior. In the fifteenth century Castilian diplomats contested with their English counterparts for third place. At the Council of Basel (1431-1445), for example, a delegate of King John II argued that Castile had become Christianized before England, and thus should be positioned just after the Emperor and France, and in front of England, in the world order.^[17] But in 1469 Isabel of Castile married Ferdinand of Aragon, and they agreed to rule their lands jointly; at this point “Spain” began to emerge as a distinct state.^[18] Furthermore, the annus mirabilis of 1492 saw the completion of the Reconquista, the expulsion of the Jews from Spain, and the discovery of a New World. Spaniards (or at the least Castilians) developed a new sense of identity, and thought of themselves as being destined for greatness.^[19]

In 1516, Pope Leo X attempted to clarify the diplomatic hierarchy by issuing a bull which upheld the tradition that the Crown of France had precedence over all other European monarchies.^[20] This would seem to have ended the possibilities for dispute. The Spanish Crown might have objected, except that in that same year Charles V became King of Spain. The reign of Charles V transformed Spain into the base of an international composite empire. Through inheritance, Charles’s subject kingdoms stretched from the Low Countries to Vienna, and thanks to Columbus and those who followed him, he ruled a New World of staggering size. If any European king had reason to fight for precedence over the French, Charles did-- but he did not need to, for after 1519 he also held the title of Holy Roman Emperor. For almost forty years Charles’s ambassadors automatically enjoyed precedence over all others, because the imperial and Spanish Crowns had been consolidated. This solution proved temporary, however, as the titles once again separated when Charles abdicated his thrones in the period 1556-1558.

Philip II, now King of Spain, faced an awkward dilemma. He possessed Spain and all of its subject territories, perhaps the greatest empire in the world-- but he could not call himself an Emperor. According to Peter Pierson, “Philip wanted very much to be emperor,” but perhaps in the name of Habsburg unity, he accepted that neither he nor his son would receive the title.^[21] Philip would instead become famous (or infamous) as His Catholic Majesty of Spain-- and it is at this point that the Spanish campaign to change the accepted diplomatic hierarchy, and to establish a new world order, really began.

The transition from “Imperial/Spanish” to merely “Spanish” proved to be difficult for Philip’s ambassadors. They had become accustomed to the privileges of preeminence, and did not want to give them up. The experience of Francisco de Vargas, a Spanish resident ambassador in Venice, in 1557-1558 illustrates the kinds of problems which arose. Prior to Charles’ abdication, Vargas had been accredited as the imperial representative. He briefly left Venice for the Netherlands, and when he returned in early 1557, just after Philip’s accession, he expected to enjoy the same honors as before. French ambassadors objected, however; Vargas was no longer the Emperor’s ambassador, they insisted, but merely that of the King of Spain.^[22] Spanish and French ambassadors argued with each other and with the Venetians, and tensions mounted. Philip’s initial reaction to the situation was to suggest that the transition from Charles to himself had not really changed anything. As he wrote to Vargas on 26 May:

I have seen everything that has occurred concerning the pretension of the French ambassador and it greatly amazes me, since it is such an obvious matter that [precedence] belongs to you as the ambassador of the Emperor my lord, and having returned to continue at your post in his name, there should not be any doubt, nor should it be placed in dispute. You should not be satisfied with the place you were given, as it would not be right for you to be content if you were solely my ambassador, much less that of his imperial majesty, whose preeminence is so well known....^[23]

He instructed Vargas to do whatever he saw fit to rectify the situation, and not to allow the Venetians to “force this novelty” on him. Philip’s letter implies that the French and the Venetians, not the Spaniards, were trying to change things.^[24] There is also a clear implication that at this point Philip still thought of Vargas as his father’s ambassador rather than his own, and that the attempt to deprive Vargas of his place threatened Charles’s honor more than his son’s.^[25] In any case, Philip did not express his anger to the Venetians. In a letter Philip wrote directly to Doge Lorenzo Priuli, he offered a carrot rather than a stick: he asked the Doge to be reasonable, and make the decision he ought to make, and promised that he, the king, would be the very dear friend of Venice if they did the right thing.^[26]

Vargas fought much more forcefully than Philip for Spanish honor. The crisis came in May 1558, at the celebration of Ascension Day, during which ambassadors participated in processions and rituals.^[27] On May 26 Vargas wrote to Philip that in the previous week the French ambassador, under instructions from Henri II and the powerful French Cardinal Tournon, had made a speech before the Venetian Signoria demanding his traditional place in front of the Spanish envoy during the procession and subsequent church rituals. According to Vargas, the Frenchman added that “whatever these lords may understand he would come and take his place [in the procession] and with this and many noises of pride and insolence he finished his speech, and began to gather armed men, and make no small fuss.”^[28] Not to be outdone, Vargas made a similar speech before the Venetian lords the next day. He “marvelled at the insolence of the French ambassador,” as well as the possibility that the Venetians might give in to such odious tactics. Unlike the French, who threatened the peace of Venice, he had done his best to “contain his household and keep them disciplined.” After ridiculing the follies of the French, and chastising the Signoria for even listening to their arguments, he announced that nothing would prevent him from taking his rightful place. “It is necessary for me to act thus,” he concluded, “and to employ a thousand lives if I had them.”^[29] Vargas also suggested to Philip that in order to preserve reputación he should withdraw his embassy from Venice and reassign Vargas to Rome. Interestingly, Philip’s ambassador seems to have reacted with more outrage to French demands than Philip himself-- a pattern that would reoccur throughout the precedence controversy.

Vargas described the resolution of the crisis in a letter to Philip’s sister Juana, the Princess of Portugal, Philip’s regent in Spain during his campaigns abroad.^[30] After summing up the state of affairs, Vargas noted how the French claimed that their king should be given precedence “over all kings in the world, always and in all places,” to which he responded that “my legation in the name of the Emperor still endured as the Empire had not ceased to exist, and besides this I would still have to have precedence as the ambassador of his Catholic Majesty for evident causes and reasons.” (Vargas seems to have shared Philip’s opinion that he was still technically Charles’s ambassador.) He evidently did not spell out what those “evident causes and reasons” were, as Requeséns would do six years later. In any case, after numerous efforts to get the ambassadors to soften their positions, the Venetians “resolved that neither of us [ambassadors] should go any longer to the festival.” Vargas initially refused even to discuss this possibility, as he claimed it would harm both Philip’s and his own honor, but eventually he grumpily agreed that if the French ambassador did not appear he would not either. Vargas regarded this compromise as a defeat, because the Venetians seemed to agree with the French that Philip’s envoy should not be granted the privileges of an imperial ambassador. After much deliberation, the Venetian Senate had upheld France’s traditional rights.^[31]

Vargas would continue to fight a losing battle for several months. In protest of the Venetian government’s actions, Philip instructed Vargas not to appear before the Signoria without a direct order.^[32] When this move had no effect on the situation, Philip decided to take his ambassador’s advice and withdraw his envoy from Venice. Vargas made his dramatic exit on July 29, 1558, when he announced to the “aghast” Venetians that Philip had ordered him to take to the road.^[33] He refused to admit that he might ever return, saying only that he would do what his king commanded. With much ceremony he packed up his entire household and staff, leaving only a secretary behind to administer to necessary business. He left Venice for good in early September; as he wrote to Princess Juana, “I do not wish to return here or to die in such an ungrateful place, as I have been grateful [to the Venetians] and done them more service than any of those who preceded me.” The pique in Vargas’s tone is quite noticeable: he clearly felt that the Venetians had done him a personal disservice, in addition to insulting his King. He left for the papal court in a bitter mood, uncertain of his future career, despite his assignment to the premier diplomatic posting at the Vatican. Unfortunately for him, affairs in Rome would not fare much better than they had in Venice. The precedence dispute with France intensified in the 1560s, the main point of friction being the Council of Trent.

Church councils were, of course, significant events, attended and watched by all of Europe, and none more so than the Council of Trent.^[34] Although the primary purpose of the Council was to combat heresy and to define Catholic doctrine and practice, power politics played a major role as well.^[35] The Spaniards could not allow their prestige to be challenged at such an event. Pope Pius IV and his curia worried that a precedence dispute could ruin the Council; in November 1560, Paolo Tiepolo, the Venetian ambassador to Spain, reported that the papal nuncio in Madrid has exhorted his Majesty, for the prevention of dispute about precedence, to send [to Trent] either a Cardinal or a Prince [instead of a regular ambassador], who would be placed apart from the Ambassadors; telling him plainly that should there be a dispute between his Ambassador and the one from France, the Council could not do less than maintain the Frenchman in possession till some other decision was made in this matter, as hitherto the proofs in favour of France are too evident; so should King Philip have a mind to obtain a decision that the first place belongs to him, as being the greatest Prince in Christendom, and the one who more than all the rest defends the Catholic Church, and resists the infidels, he should prevent the occurrence at the commencement of anything prejudicial to his interests.^[36] The nuncio seemed to be sympathetic to Spanish claims, even if they could not be proven. He also suggested that Philip had made a mistake in withdrawing his ambassador from Venice, because that deprived him of a chance to advance his claim, as well as the valuable intelligence which only a resident ambassador could provide.^[37] In any case if the Spaniards were going to press their case it would be without help from Rome.

Relations between Spain and France were also extremely uncertain at this point. The two powers had signed the important peace treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis in 1559, but then Henri II died in a freak jousting accident, leaving four young sons and an unstable throne.^[38] Rivalry among French noble houses, along with an increasingly disaffected Protestant minority, led to the Wars of Religion breaking out in January 1562.^[39] The perceived weakness of the French state perhaps encouraged the Spaniards to press their claims for precedence. Also in January 1562, Philip informed his ambassador to the Holy Roman Emperor, Don Claudio Fernando de Quiñones, the Count of Luna, that he would represent Philip at the Council. Philip’s choice was significant: Luna had already been involved in a precedence dispute at the imperial court, and was currently trying to win concessions from the Emperor. Normally, Spanish ambassadors enjoyed special privileges at the Imperial court.^[40] In this case, however, the Spaniards would be disappointed. Three years earlier, Philip had sent explicit instructions to Luna concerning public ceremonies: “[I]f the French wish to attend [such ceremonies], since it is to be believed that they will want to precede [you], it is in no way acceptable that you attend them under such circumstances, so you must avoid such occasions; you must directly seek from the Emperor that while the French are present there, he does not allow you and them to appear in the same ceremonies.”^[41] Philip still did not favor the idea of open confrontation, and looked to his uncle Ferdinand for help. Ferdinand responded favorably, and told the French ambassador not to appear at public ceremonies of the imperial court unless expressly ordered to by his King. Luna by contrast could appear whenever he wanted.^[42] The French, of course, objected, and demanded their traditional rights. On September 3, 1560, King Francis II wrote to his ambassador in Madrid, the Bishop of Limoges, expressing his amazement and concern that Philip would try to usurp the ancient rights of France.^[43]

Encouraged by this concession, Philip sought further favors from the Emperor when it came time to send an ambassador to Trent. On January 28, 1562, he informed Luna of his embassy to the Council, and expressed the hope that a direct confrontation might be avoided by devious means:

(B)ecause the dispute we have with the King of France over precedence will no doubt arise there [at Trent], although there may be many reasons why we would defend our position, in order not to let such a situation happen in a place where only spiritual and religious matters should be discussed... we have thought of a way not to abandon our [rightful] place, which would be that the Emperor, my uncle, if he agreed, together with the German ambassadors and those of the other states he will send to the Council, would also give to you the title of imperial ambassador, equal to the others, for which purpose we will write to His Catholic Majesty the letter which will arrive with this one.^[44]

Philip also suggested that the Emperor likewise grant imperial status to the Spanish ambassador in Venice, thus solving that vexing problem in the same way; as Philip explained, for the last several years the question of precedence had interfered with the ability of his embassy in Venice to function, a situation which was in no way “convenient for our affairs nor for the public good or that of Christendom.” The Emperor could easily remedy all of these difficulties. Philip also instructed Luna to assure Ferdinand that none of these requests should be understood as disrespectful of the Emperor’s authority; they should instead be perceived as a signal to the world that the affairs of the King of Spain and those of the Emperor were one and the same, and such an action would be a mark of their mutual love and respect. Clearly, Philip knew he was asking a great deal from Ferdinand, who had to appease both Catholics and protestants in his realms, and also did not want to upset the delicate balance of Habsburg relations.^[45] Despite Philip’s careful diplomacy, however, Ferdinand proved reluctant. His first response, according to Luna, was that “he wished to wait a little and contemplate this matter.” After consulting with his ministers, Ferdinand refused the request, fearing such a favor to His Catholic Majesty of Spain might infuriate his German subjects.^[46]

Meanwhile, Francisco de Vargas, now the Spanish ambassador in Rome, was also campaigning for a diplomatic solution.^[47] Spanish-papal relations had recently experienced traumatic rupture: in 1556, Pope Paul IV, in an effort to free his native Naples from Spanish domination, allied with France in a fruitless war against Spain. After Paul died in 1559, Philip was determined to build better relations with his successor, Pius IV, who promised to be more amenable.^[48] On 8 April, 1562, Vargas reported that Pius was thinking of secretly assigning places to ambassadors at the Council in order to avoid conflicts. After much discussion, however, the Pope seemed open to mediation on the issue of precedence, and Vargas could see no reason why Pius would rule against Spain, “as the French proceed as they do, so lost in matters of religion, and Your Majesty being the protector and defender of it and of this Apostolic See, and there being so many causes and reasons [to support Philip’s claim]....”^[49] As we will see, Vargas shared with Requeséns the belief that Spanish claims to precedence were reasonable, indeed commonsensical, given the French predilection for Protestantism. But their King, himself, still did not seem entirely convinced. On 15 October 1562 Philip wrote to Vargas that he had just dispatched the Count of Luna to Trent, and that it was extremely important for the Pope to resolve the precedence dispute before the Count arrived. Philip did not demand an unequivocal declaration in his favor, however, but suggested that Pius and his curia “might look at some reasonable ways of proceeding which would be best, which do not deprive us of everything the French want to take.”^[50] A diagram accompanied Philip’s suggestions, which sketched out three “ways of proceeding” in seating the ambassadors at the Council.^[51] (See Figure 1.) In each scenario the imperial envoys are closest to the Papal legates, which would be traditional, but the relative placement of the French and Spanish delegates are moved around in an attempt to satisfy honor. (Note that in no case are they sitting next to each other; presumably they were not trusted to behave themselves.) Philip told Vargas that he offered these suggestions because he did not wish to be the cause of a disturbance at the Council, “which has moved us to condescend to what you will see [in the diagram].” None of the possibilities offered clearly established Spanish ranking above the French, but if Philip was “condescending” to agree to these plans, it implies he was giving up something he already had. Yet it is also not clear if Philip was willing to fight for precedence at this time. We do not know if Philip himself designed these seating arrangements, but in any case he still did not seem as committed to winning precedence as Vargas was.

Vargas displayed his passion for precedence in a series of personal audiences with Pope Pius in November 1562. At one such meeting he informed Pius of the imminent arrival of a special envoy to Rome, Don Luis de Requeséns, making his first appearance of many. He then went on to the business of who would sit where at the Council, which was “the principal [issue] and cannot allow delay.” He showed Pius Philip’s diagram, and “told him that due to my office [as ambassador] and as his great servant I was obliged to tell him what I thought so that His Holiness might take better care for the authority and reputation of Your Majesty.” Pius responded favorably, and promised to try to put one of Philip’s suggested seating arrangements into effect. Vargas insisted on debating every last detail: “I discussed with [Pius] figuring two benches on the right hand and the other on the left, and how the bench for Your Majesty’s ambassadors had to be facing the bench for the Emperor’s ambassadors, and with this there remained to write the following day to the legates.” This passage is remarkable, if only for the image of a pope and an ambassador negotiating in deadly seriousness about where to put a bench. It is also noteworthy that Vargas for once displayed some subtlety in lecturing to Pope Pius without seeming to do so. But perhaps he was too subtle, for he complained that Pius did not understand the magnitude of the problem. So Vargas decided to work around the Pope: he instructed his secretary to write directly to the papal legates at the Council about Philip’s “holy determination” on this issue (although actually Philip did not appear nearly as determined as his ambassador), and to insist that he had done what he could to accommodate the French.^[52]

The French, however, were in no mood to compromise either. One of Vargas’s contacts in Trent reported to him that the French had rejected Philip’s seating suggestions, and would accept nothing less than the Spaniards “yielding” to them. Vargas immediately went back to Pius, and expressed his “amazement” at French intransigence; he reminded the pope that the King of Spain was his only ally and the defender of the faith and the Holy See, “and the French are those who are trying to ruin and destroy [the Church].”^[53] Vargas then stated that

Your Majesty’s ambassador must be seated... as [befits] the minister of the greatest prince in the world and the most worthy of religion and this Holy See... and this is not something which can depend on the desires of the French nor on what pleases them but on the authority of His Holiness.... it pains me to the core that His Holiness, being very much the true father of Your Majesty, does not perceive this matter justly, and may give away [the Spanish] position....^[54]

Two things stand out in this passage. First, Vargas seemed to be trying to convince Philip as much as the pope (“Your Majesty’s ambassador must be seated”); Requeséns would later express similar sentiments when he wished for the King to begin a war over precedence. Second, Vargas was genuinely confused and upset that Pius did not immediately agree with Spanish claims.^[55] Again, Requeséns and other Spanish ambassadors would be equally unsure why popes and other Italians did not side naturally with Spain. Later Vargas noted that Pius wanted to do right by Philip, as did a number of important cardinals, most noteably Carlo Borromeo of Milan.^[56] In any event he asked Pius to delay the Council until all the Spanish delegates could arrive, especially since there had already been delays due to the ceremonies accorded to the French, and Pius agreed.^[57]

Meanwhile, the Count of Luna arrived at Trent in April 1563 with no borrowed imperial status, and only weak support from Rome. Nonetheless he soon became involved in a direct confrontation with the chief French delegate, Charles de Guise, the Cardinal of Lorraine.^[58] Guise had no intention of allowing French privileges to be threatened: he claimed that representatives of France had been second in line in every Church Council over the last several centuries.^[59] Luna, equally determined not to give any ground, decided to force the issue. He did not have direct orders to demand precedence over the French; Philip had sent him the same diagram Vargas received, and instructed him to do what “was fitting for the good direction of these affairs.”^[60] Like Vargas, Luna perhaps took precedence more seriously that his king. Requeséns wrote to Philip that “the Count of Luna wrote to me how important a matter it is in getting the seat [at the Council] and that I should make a great deal about this with His Holiness, because although [the Pope and the French] can dissimulate in other matters in this there can be no dissimulation.”^[61]

In July 1563 Luna reported taking dramatic, if rather sly, action.^[62] “When I arrived here,” he wrote to Philip, “I received word from Rome of His Holiness’ orders for a peaceful solution, by avoiding any disputes between me and the French ambassadors which might occur, as they no doubt will during the Council session, although they have been avoided up to now.” The Cardinal of Lorraine had announced earlier that “there was no way in the world the ambassadors of France would suffer equality in this case, nor permit the matter to be left in peace.” Both Spanish and French envoys had been abstaining from public appearances in order to keep the peace. On the feast day of St. Peter, Luna tried to sneak into a celebration of the mass while the French were not looking, and took a seat where the French ambassador would have sat. He claimed he did this “because there would be no uproar or efforts to prevent what His Holiness had ordered,” but he must have known what would happen. When the French in the room noticed him they exploded. An infuriated Cardinal of Lorraine insisted that he would tolerate no breaks with tradition, to which Luna calmly answered that he was merely obeying the Pope’s wishes, “which thus should do no harm to anyone.” Pandemonium ensued when the French delegation began to hurl curses and threats at both the Spaniards and the Pope. They denounced the Pope as a simoniac, who had forfeited the right to expect obedience from the French nation.^[63] At one point the Cardinal of Lorraine showed Luna his orders from the King of France, which charged him to make an official protest rather than give up precedence. The cardinal begged Luna not to force the French to leave Trent, and thus precipitate the failure of the entire Council. Luna continued to insist that there was no reason for the French to take offense, because they had not lost anything, but were merely sharing equal status with Spain as the Pope commanded. In the end the mass proceeded without anything being settled, and without the French carrying out their threat to leave the Council.^[64]

In spite of Luna’s boldness, the general impression at the time was that France had won this round; both of the great seventeenth-century Italian chroniclers of the Council of Trent, Paolo Sarpi and Sforza Pallavicino, suggest that the French successfully fended off Spanish attempts to change anything.^[65] Nonetheless in September 1563 Philip sent a congratulatory letter to Luna, praising his actions, and dismissing French threats of abandoning obedience to the papacy as empty rhetoric. “The protests they have made on similar occasions,” Philip wrote, “were usually not meant seriously, but only their method of negotiation.”^[66] This may have been the case, but the French would soon repeat their threat in a far more grave fashion, at the Vatican court.

Don Luis de Requeséns replaced Francisco de Vargas as Spanish resident ambassador in Rome in September 1563. Relations between Vargas and Pope Pius had become increasingly hostile, so Philip named a new ambassador in order to patch things up.^[67] Requeséns, who up to now had remained in the background, proved as resident ambassador to be at least as prickly and difficult as Vargas had ever been. One biographer, Luciano Serrano, described him as “quarrelsome and over-concerned with small points of honor... contemporaries described him as arrogant, conducting negotiations with a tone of insolent imperialism.”^[68] Requeséns, although he was half-Catalán, thus fit the stereotypes of the proud Castilian grandee: a short-tempered man with an inflated sense of personal and national honor. Despite these short-comings he also turned out to be a gifted diplomat, who quickly won the respect of the Pope and the Vatican court.^[69] For six months he attended to all of the various transactions and business affairs which were his responsibility as Philip’s representative, particularly those involving Church reform, papal finance, and the war against Protestant and Turkish enemies.^[70] On February 9, 1564, however, all such negotiations were put on hold, when a new French ambassador, Henri Clutin d’Oysel, arrived in Rome with a new demand for clarification of the precedence dispute.

D’Oysel was an experienced diplomat, who had served as resident ambassador in Scotland during the 1550s, where he had become a key supporter of Mary of Guise.^[71] D’Oysel must have had formidable stage presence, and his anti-protestant stance in Scotland no doubt helped to endear him to the Pope. He posed a serious challenge to Requeséns, who had nowhere near D’Oysel’s international experience. The new ambassador brought a demand from the young King Charles IX and the Queen Mother, Catherine de’Medici, that Pius reconsider his decision about precedence, and restore the French Crown to its rightful place as the greatest Kingdom in Europe; otherwise, France would have no choice but to withdraw its obedience to the Papacy.^[72] Faced with this naked threat, Pius agreed to take the matter under advisement. Requeséns immediately objected, declaring that neither the Pope nor the College of Cardinals could be the “judges” of Philip’s honor, and that he would leave Rome in protest if the French were granted their request.^[73] A month later Philip sent a letter to Pius confirming his ambassador’s position, and the battle lines were drawn.

Much like Vargas before him, Requeséns met with the Pope a number of times and lectured to him about the merits of Spanish claims. His arguments were almost identical to those used by Vargas, except that he argued even more forcefully that his position derived from Spain’s new world dominance. In one such meeting in early February, 1564, for example, Requeséns told Pius that “he had every confidence” that His Holiness would not give offense to Philip in this matter of precedence, and that Philip had “excellent reasons” to keep the same preeminent position which had belong to his father.^[74] So far this sounds similar to Vargas, but then Requeséns became bolder, claiming that

if the French say that this position had been [merited] only because we used to be ambassadors of the Emperor, then it is their responsibility to prove it... [but] I was certain that it was not so, but rather it came from being the ambassador of the King of Spain. Moreover it was unjust to measure [the importance of the Spanish ambassador] now according to the standards of the times when he only represented the King of Castile, since [Philip now] reigns over so many kingdoms together, all of which I specified to [Pius], especially those of the Indies, which there is called the New World... I brought all of this to his attention, saying that these matters of precedence have always been judged by the greatness of the Kingdoms and of the Kings, and there was no comparing that of Your Majesty with anyone in the world.

The last point is the most interesting: the idea that precedence was not a constant, but should instead be determined according to the current “greatness” of monarchs. Requeséns may have been the first to suggest that this applied even at the top of the pyramid.^[75] Nor did he stop there. He went on to compare Spain’s record in religious matters with that of France, where heresy became stronger every day. And besides, was not the French monarchy guilty of allying itself with the infidel Turks in recent years? And had the French not made the impious threat to withdraw obedience to the Papacy? Requeséns assured Pius that he would never go so far, for such would be a crime against the faith—but he did warn that Spain would withdraw its friendship, and cut off communications, unless the Pope reconsidered granting French demands for precedence. As he concluded, “although Your Majesty has obligations to His Beatitude, they all could not outweigh such an insult to honor.” Clearly Requeséns fought for the honor of his monarch and his nation, and the very idea of losing face at the Vatican court sent him into a frenzy-- or at least, so he would have the pope believe.

All of Requeséns’s actions in pursuit of precedence were performed on his own initiative. At one point he outlined his plan of action to Philip: he would continue to assure Pius of his resolution, and lobby the cardinals for their support, particularly the older ones (who were next in line as possible future popes). He would also “seek to prevent the Pope from going to chapel, but if he does I will go too, and I will see to it that Your Majesty’s place is not lost. And I believe that when His Holiness sees this with his own eyes, he will not be able to do more than order both of us [ambassadors] to leave the chapel, and if he comes to make a declaration against Your Majesty (which I cannot persuade myself [is a possibility], although some think so), I am resolved, not having any previous orders, to leave here.”^[76] In 1558, Vargas had suggested to Philip that he withdraw his embassy from Venice, which Philip agreed with, but now Requeséns made the decision to leave entirely on his own. Philip would later support his ambassador, but did he have a choice? Requeséns and Philip had grown up together (they were childhood playmates)^[77] so Requeséns was perhaps confident that he knew what Philip wanted, and would support him. The ambassador also presumed to advise the King on what further actions to take. Philip should send Pius a protest letter, “in such a way that the Pope understands that he risks much in not pleasing Your Majesty in this matter, on which depends our reputation in all Italian affairs and even in all of Christendom.” The combative sentiments Requeséns expressed to his brother Zúñiga, concerning his desire for war over the precedence dispute, make sense in light of this fear; a blow to Spanish prestige could jeopardize the Monarchy’s tenuous control of the Italian peninsula, as well as of other dominions in Europe.^[78]

The confrontation between Requeséns and D’Oysel dragged on for months, mostly because Pius refused to negotiate or make a final decision. The ambassadors circled the Pope constantly while Pius avoided public appearances that would force him to choose one way or another.^[79] The arrival of Holy Week in 1564, however, led to a crisis.^[80] Pius found himself in an awkward position, since he could hardly neglect appearing in public or avoid the Easter Mass. Hoping to prevent a confrontation, he begged both ambassadors not to attend chapel on Maundy Thursday or on Easter Day. Requeséns agreed, even though he considered it an “insult” to Philip for the Pope to ask such a favor. In a coded letter, Requeséns wrote that he had acquiesced to mollify Pius, although he feared the Pope had already decided to make some “declaration” contrary to Spanish interests; he had heard disturbing reports of long conversations between Pius and D’Oysel. Little did he know that the Pope was about to outwit both ambassadors.

Early on Maundy Thursday, Requeséns went to the Pope’s quarters, where he found D’Oysel and the Imperial ambassador already waiting outside in an antechamber, accompanied by several senior Cardinals. Pius remained out of sight; as the hour of the benediction approached, “we awaited the Pope’s departure and with us stayed Cardinals Borromeo and Altaemps, who dissimulated with feigned conversation, and kept us there for more than two hours.”^[81] In that time the Pope descended secretly to the Sistine Chapel by means of a hidden staircase, and after vesting in a side room, performed the mass. As Requeséns wrote, “those of us above did not know [what had happened] until we heard the arquebus salvo which is done after the benediction is given (although I was advised of what had happened a little earlier).” The ambassadors then simultaneously jumped up and sought the Pope, whom they encountered coming back up the main staircase. A shoving match ensued to capture the favored position behind the Pope’s right shoulder. Requeséns triumphantly reported that he won, and then accompanied Pius back to his chambers. D’Oysel departed in disgust. Any victory celebration on Requeséns’ part, however, was short-lived. The next day he learned that Pius had promised D’Oysel and several French cardinals that he would deliver a final verdict on the precedence problem by Ascension Day, and that the French had declared themselves “content.” Requeséns complained to Philip that the French faction in the College of Cardinals petitioned the Pope constantly, “and although I beseech the aid of all the cardinals [who are] servants of Your Majesty, not two of them approach this business with a tenth of the [French bishops’] passion.” Despite his minor victory the previous day, Requeséns feared he was losing the war.^[82]

Over the next weeks Philip received increasingly gloomy letters from his ambassador. Requeséns delivered Philip’s official letter of protest, to little effect. Pius continued to avoid public appearances, using his gout as an excuse.^[83] Requeséns grew increasingly frustrated; on April 6, he reported that “yesterday I had audience with His Holiness and we had quite a fight, during which His Holiness shouted loudly, and gave me occasion to do the same.”^[84] Requeséns struggled to show Pius the respect he deserved as Christ’s Vicar, even though he was “insufferable” in his stubbornness. The ambassador once again reiterated the reasons why Philip was preeminent, but lost his temper when Pius insisted that the Spaniards had neither reason nor justice on their side. It is difficult to imagine a modern-day ambassador screaming at the pope, but in this case “diplomatic behavior” clearly took a back seat to the question of honor. Ironically, Requeséns complained to Pius that the Spanish cause seemed to be harmed by the “respect” with which he dealt with the Pope, while “it benefitted the French to negotiate with great disrespect and with threats.” The Pope then made a startling admission to Requeséns: he planned to grant the French precedence because he feared to give them a reason to withdraw from the Church and become heretics. The Spaniard showed no sympathy: “I expressed myself to be greatly scandalized by this speech, saying that it frightened me terribly to hear such a thing from His Holiness. and that when the French make such threats, as they have, he must order them to be punished.”^[85] Requeséns had given up being diplomatic (if he ever had been), and spoke as plainly as possible. The situation was fast becoming desperate, and the stakes were high: all Italy and indeed all Europe watched this conflict, and many had no love for Spain. Requeséns complained to Philip that many Italians, including the Pope, supported the French because of “their hatred of Your Majesty’s greatness,” as well as their own particular interests.^[86] This perceived Italian anti-Spanish bias, perhaps more than anything else, angered the Spanish ambassador-- after all, his primary diplomatic responsibility was to promote Spanish-Italian relations, but even the Pope resented Spain’s presence in Italy. Requeséns suspected that Pius was using the fear of losing France to heresy as an excuse for striking a blow against Spanish prestige. Like all of his fellow Spanish diplomats, Requeséns never understood why the Italians would not accept the seemingly obvious fact that their destiny lay with Spain. As he wrote, “it angers me to see how all Italy believes that the French are in the right [in the precedence dispute], it being such great nonsense.”^[87]

Requeséns’ nationalistic fervor helps explain his constant refusal to accept compromise. When Pius tried to convince him of the legitimacy of French claims by showing him “books which they have here on the ceremonies of Rome in which they declare this [position] against Your Majesty,” Requeséns rejected the argument on the grounds that the books had been produced by the French, and in any case “they were only memoirs of some master-of-ceremonies and perhaps French or biased.”^[88] He also again argued for Spain’s superiority in both greatness and religious faith, claiming that Spain was “a more ancient realm” than France, and had “received the faith of Jesus Christ many years earlier.” It is unclear if Requeséns deliberately used the same arguments and language as his predecessors, but the similarities are striking. In any case he firmly rebuffed an attempt at compromise offered by a delegation of cardinals, that would have given him a separate place to stand in all public ceremonies.^[89] The Spanish ambassador had decided that he would accept nothing less than a clear victory over his French rival. In the end, and despite of his pleas and histrionics, the Pope disappointed him. Whether because of the French threat, or spurred by resentment of Spanish power, Requésens would never know, but on May 19, 1564, Pius declared his verdict granting precedence to France.^[90]

Requeséns now proceeded to carry out his threat. From that day on, he refused to attend chapel or take part in any ceremonies, although he had to wait for an official letter from the King before he could depart Rome. Philip sent that letter on July 15, ordering his ambassador to leave Rome in protest.^[91] The King praised Requeséns for his great efforts to persuade the Pope to change his mind. But as Pius had remained obstinate, Philip wrote, “I charge and command you, that upon receiving this letter, you go to kiss the foot of His Holiness and take your leave of him, saying to him how I ordered you to return to these kingdoms.” Philip directed that the entire Spanish embassy staff should depart as well, leaving only the Spanish cardinals in Rome to conduct absolutely essential business.^[92] Because the Pope initially refused to grant Requeséns an audience in which he could take his leave, the ambassador remained in Rome until the middle of August. Eventually he made the dramatic exit he had been hoping for, as he described to his brother: “I kissed the Pope’s foot and received his benediction, without getting into an argument with him. I showed fitting curtness [and left before Pius could say anything], as he is apt to become enraged.”^[93] A few weeks later, the ambassador and his staff left Rome. In one of his last letters before departing, Requeséns reported that Pius constantly spoke to the College about the Spaniards’ actions, and tried to convince them that the situation was not as bad as it looked. The ambassador noted gleefully that few cardinals agreed.^[94]

Requeséns went briefly to Florence, and then on to Genoa, where he would spend the next year waiting for further orders. News of the French diplomatic victory evidently spread far and wide. In July 1565 the Spanish ambassador in England, Diego Guzmán de Silva, reported being asked not to attend a state function for fear of a precedence dispute. The French ambassador had claimed that the matter had been settled in Rome, but de Silva told the English “I do not care what he says, but I know well what I have to do and what is owing the greatness of the King my master who in temporal affairs has, and recognises, no superior on earth.”^[95] In this particular situation the French and Spanish ambassadors managed to avoid appearing together, and later Queen Elizabeth told de Silva that if she ever was forced to choose sides in the precedence dispute, she would support Philip.^[96] Whether Elizabeth was telling the truth we do not know. Diplomatic relations between Spain and England would of course grow increasingly hostile, and two Spanish resident ambassadors would be involved in plots to overthrow Elizabeth. During the years of open warfare between Spain and England, both countries withdrew their embassies.^[97]

In any case, Requeséns stewed in Genoa until he heard of the death of Pius IV in December 1565. He then rushed back to Rome, eager to start the campaign anew. The Spaniards had evidently been planning for this moment; Raymond de Fourquevaux, the French ambassador in Spain, wrote to Queen Catherine de Medici that

Philip’s ministers will try to get a pope elected who favors them, in order to renew the question of precedence, for this nation cannot endure that the honor should go to France. And if the Holy Father does not rule in their favor, the ambassador who returned to Rome for the creation will not remain one hour, but will return to Spain. Thus I warn you that the bishops and men of letters of this realm will compose prayers and remonstrances to His Holiness, to prove that the King of France is not a great enough friend [of the Church] to be preferred over that of Spain. I cannot believe that the King does not know about it. Pray God that this small difference [over precedence] does not lead to the rise of others.^[98]

Given the lengths French ambassadors had gone to in order to preserve precedence, it was clearly not such a “small difference” to them either.^[99] We should note Fourquevaux’s observation that “Philip’s ministers” worked to get a favorable pope elected, with the King himself apparently taking a more passive role; Spanish ambassadors were not the only ones who thought Philip was less than dynamic in this crisis.

Spanish prayers for a favorable pope seemed to be answered on January 7, 1566, when the conclave elected Cardinal Michele Ghislieri as Pope Pius V. Requeséns wrote to Philip that God had guided the cardinals, and that if Ghislieri did not turn out to be a great Pope, there was no hope in anyone.^[100] Pius V was a man of austere religious zeal, seen by many as a champion of the Counter-Reformation.^[101] Requeséns immediately sent Pius a petition to correct the injustice done by his predecessor in the matter of precedence. Publicly he made Spanish unhappiness with the precedence situation clear by not accompanying the newly elected pope from the palace to St. Peter’s.^[102] Four days later he broached the subject with Pius, who procrastinated in answering for fear of inciting an angry reaction from the French.^[103] The Pope’s anxiety about provoking the French became even clearer the following week, when he asked Requeséns not to attend his coronation ceremony, thus avoiding the issue of precedence. Requeséns claimed that such a request insulted Philip, but acquiesced for the sake of amicable relations with the new pontiff.^[104] The Pope wrote directly to Philip, asking that he drop the precedence dispute, because dissension would only encourage France to renew its old alliance with the Turks.^[105] Philip answered cautiously.^[106] He directed his ambassador to express his “joy and contentment” at the election of such a holy man, and the “great respect and obedience” he would have for Pius. But he also stressed to Requeséns the importance of relations between Spain and Rome, the two defenders of Christendom. He ordered Requeséns to stay in Rome, “close to His Holiness’ person,” so that a close friendship could be formed. The King thus endorsed his ambassador’s continued service in Rome, suggesting firm support for Requeséns’ stance on precedence. Philip then said he hoped to reach an agreement on this question, as long as his honor remained uncompromised. “Say all this to His Holiness with the best and mildest words possible,” he wrote, “so that he may understand that we place everything in his hands, and that we want his counsel on our affairs, but always in such a way that when his advice or actions are not convenient for us, you remain free to abstain from attending [ceremonies] with the French ambassador.” Evidently the King hoped that a man of Pius’s piety would see things his way, but wanted to make it clear that the present situation could not be tolerated.

Negotiations continued through the next several years, and the Spaniards appeared to make some progress. In July 1566 Requeséns reported the existence of a papal brief protecting Spanish rights, but Pius refused to give the ambassador a copy; he suspected that the pope planned to use this document as leverage in other matters.^[107] Five months later Requeséns claimed to have won a tenuous victory: the Pope had finally given him a copy of the mysterious brief, which although not worded exactly as the ambassador would have liked,

in the end [it] was written in the most advantageous manner that I was able to arrange... and I believe that in substance it differs little from what Your Majesty desired; and it is still of some importance that in the relation which the Pope makes he names Your Majesty preeminent to the King of France. It behooves Your Majesty to command that this brief be kept secret, as it does not have to be used now... because when the French find out about it they may procure another brief which repeals this one, which is one of the things which often happens in Rome.^[108]

Obtaining this brief would seem to be a dubious achievement, if the Spaniards did not dare to make use of it. This secret declaration, however, would be the highwater mark of the Spanish effort to redefine the world order.

The hard-won papal brief brought little to no tangible results, although for a while circumstances seemed to favor the Spaniards. In the latter decades of the sixteenth century, the French diplomatic service collapsed as a result of civil war.^[109] Spanish ambassadors probably enjoyed de facto precedence at the papal court in the absence of a French representative. This period also perhaps marks the height of Spanish power in early modern Europe. In 1580 Philip II added Portugal and its overseas possessions to his empire, and in the meantime the silver mines of Peru had greatly increased Spain’s financial resources. With France in political chaos, Spain had no rival in Western Europe. But not even in this moment of glory did either Requeséns or any other Spanish ambassador in Rome ever receive diplomatic honors ahead of the French in a public ceremony.^[110] Requeséns, in fact, once declined a special seat of honor in the face of French opposition.^[111] The next resident ambassador, Requeséns’ brother Don Juan de Zúñiga, reported that he did not attend chapel with the other ambassadors, precisely to avoid the precedence controversy.^[112] Nor was Rome the only site of symbolic defeats for the Spaniards. In 1574, at the Diet which elected Henry, Duke of Anjou, as King of Poland, a Spanish ambassador tried to enter in front of the French ambassador, but Polish officials stopped him. Similarly, during the negotiations over the Treaty of Vervins in 1598, French precedence was prominently displayed.^[113]

Conflicts between Spanish and French diplomats continued to erupt through the first half of the seventeenth century, sometimes leading to violence.^[114] But circumstances had changed; the balance of power was tipping in France’s favor. The French monarchy had begun to stabilize, while the 1640 revolts of Portugal and Catalonia marked the weakness of the Spanish imperial system. The new realities of European power politics were reflected by the end of the Spanish precedence campaign, which suffered a final humiliating defeat in 1662. Louis XIV, angered by the presumption of a Spanish ambassador in London, threatened war if King Philip IV did not admit that the French monarchy’s claim to precedence outweighed his own. Philip, in no position to fight a war over this issue, conceded. In March 1662 the Spanish ambassador in France publicly apologized for the events in London, and announced that none of Philip’s ambassadors would again seek equal or greater status with those of the French King.^[115] There could not have been a clearer victory for France; the Spanish campaign to change the world order was over.

Despite its ultimate futility, the tremendous effort Spanish ambassadors made in the name of their master’s precedence has significance on several levels. First, the sense of purpose among the Spanish ambassadors is important in the development of modern diplomatic practice. Gary M. Bell has recently argued that English ambassadors under Queen Elizabeth were the first in Europe to develop a sense of identity as professional diplomats.^[116] It is true that the contemporary Spanish diplomatic corps was not “professional,” in that its members had no specific diplomatic training and usually came from the nobility. Yet as this essay shows Philip’s ambassadors certainly were aware of themselves as representatives of the King, used consistent tactics and arguments, and acted according to a common agenda, all of which suggest a level of professionalism and an esprit de corps at least the equal of that of their English counterparts.^[117]

Second, the self-identity expressed by Philip II’s ambassadors reflected a new sense of what it meant to be “Spaniards.” Even Requeséns, who was half-Catalan, fought for “Spanish” honor. Vargas and Requeséns demonstrated great pride in representing a country which defended the Church and ruled the world’s greatest empire; they seemed to take Charles V’s motto “plus ultra” to heart. Geoffrey Parker’s argument that Philip II’s political strategy reflected a sense of “messianic imperialism” could perhaps be extended and even strengthened if applied to Philip’s ambassadors. In the 1560s, Spanish ambassadors were often more strident in their nationalistic claims, and more confident in their national destiny, than their own king. Their claims were perhaps extreme examples of Renaissance self-fashioning: the ambassadors not only defined a new identity for themselves, but also for their king and their country.^[118]

Third, why did precedence matter so much to the ambassadors? The Spaniards may have expressed pride and a sense of triumphalism, but the significance of the precedence dispute also demonstrated the presence of contrary emotions, confusion and fear. No one really knew what the transition from Charles V to Philip II meant for the European balance of power, either on the grand scale of nations, or on a more personal scale, for the very men who were supposed to represent the Spanish Habsburgs in public ceremonies. What would the transition mean for Spain, or its place in Europe’s power structure? More specifically, what would happen to the Spanish control of Italy? In his political instructions to Philip, Charles emphasized Italy’s importance in European power politics, and the necessity of maintaining control of the peninsula.^[119] With the peace treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis of 1559, in which France renounced any dynastic claims on Italy, Philip seemed to have established a permanent stranglehold on the Italian peninsula. Indeed, many historians have marked 1559 as the beginning date for the “Spanish domination” of Italy.^[120] But the precedence dispute calls this interpretation into question. Rome and Venice, the two major Italian states that maintained some degree of independence from Spain, were keys to the control of Italy, and it was in these cities that precedence disputes occurred. Philip’s resident ambassadors in Rome and Venice had the specific task of assessing potential threats to Spanish hegemony, and heading off problems if they could. Recall Requeséns’s distress about Italian reactions to the precedence dispute; he feared that a blow to Spanish prestige could jeopardize their hold on Italy, and this is why he wanted Philip to start a war.^[121] The “pax hispanica” did not exist in late sixteenth-century Italy, as demonstrated by the desperate efforts of Philip II’s ambassadors to establish the Spanish place at the head of a ceremonial line. It was their business as ambassadors to influence the Italians and gauge their support for Spain, and they did not seem confident at all that Spain had established domination of Italy. For all their bravado, Spanish ambassadors in Italy perceived that they were fighting a losing battle, and that all of Spain’s newfound power and sense of mission did not guarantee them a place in the sun.

Michael J. Levin

---

^[1] Pio IV y Felipe Segundo. Primeros diez meses de la embajada de Don Luis de Requeséns en Roma, 1563-1564. Edited by “F. del V.” and “S. K.” (Madrid, 1891), pp. 236-237.

^[2] Letter dated April 30, 1564. Ibid., pp. 343-346.

^[3] See the recent discussion of perceptions of early modern Spain and the Spaniards, J. N. Hillgarth, The Mirror of Spain, 1500-1700: The Formation of a Myth (Ann Arbor MI ,2000).

^[4] Geoffrey Parker, The Grand Strategy of Philip II (New Haven, 1998), pp. 89-90, and J. H Elliott, “Foreign Policy and Domestic Crisis: Spain, 1598-1659,” in Spain and Its World, 1500-1700 (New Haven, 1989), pp. 114-136.

^[5] For more on this transition, see M. J. Rodríguez-Salgado, The Changing Face of Empire: Charles V, Philip II and Habsburg Authority, 1551-1559 (Cambridge, 1988).

^[6] The nature of the “Spanish empire” or “Spanish imperialism” is an issue of great debate. In The Grand Strategy of Philip II, Parker discusses Philip’s “messianic imperialism,” which goes against older ideas about the spontaneous nature of Spanish foreign policy; see H. G. Koenigsberger, “The Statecraft of Philip II,” European Studies Review 1 (1971), pp. 1-21. Anthony Pagden has written that “there never was, of course, a ‘Spanish Empire,’” but he does posit an idea of empire in Spanish thinking:Spanish Imperialism and the Political Imagination (New Haven,1990). See also his more recent study, Lords of All the World: Ideologies of Empire in Spain, Britain and France c.1500-c.1800 (New Haven 1995). For a recent discussion of what has been termed the “Spanish imperial system,” see Nel sistema imperiale: l’Italia Spagnola , ed. Aurelio Musi (Naples, 1994).

^[7] Maria Antonietta Visceglia, “Il ceremoniale come linguaggio politico: su alcuni conflitti di precedenza alla corte di Roma tra Cinquecento e Seicento,” in Cérémonial et rituel à Rome (XVI-XIX siecle), eds. Maria Antonietta Visceglia and Catherine Brice (Rome, 1997), pp. 117-176. See also William Roosen, “Early Modern Diplomatic Ceremonial: A Systems Approach,” Journal of Modern History 52 (September 1980), pp. 452-476.

^[8] See Donald E. Queller, The Office of Ambassador in the Middle Ages (Princeton, 1967), chapter seven, and Garrett Mattingly, Renaissance Diplomacy (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1955; Reprint, New York, 1988), chapter XXV.

^[9] Ernest Satow, Satow’s Guide to Diplomatic Practice, Fifth Edition, ed. Lord Gore-Booth (London and New York, 1979), pp. 20-21; Hyginus Eugene Cardinale, The Holy See and the International Order (Toronto, 1976), p. 155. France was also credited with having the most ancient established throne, and thus being “the eldest son of the Church.”

^[10] Mattingly, pp. 216-217. Much has been written on the meaning and symbol of royalty and the presence of the royal body, the classic work being Ernst H. Kantorowicz, The King’s Two Bodies: A Study in Medieval Political Theology (Princeton, 1957).

^[11] David Starkey, “Representation through Intimacy,” in Symbols and Sentiments: Cross-cultural Studies in Symbolism, ed. Ioan Lewis (London, 1977), pp. 187-224.

^[12] Renaissance Diplomacy, p. 217.

^[13] Roosen, “Early Modern Diplomatic Ceremonial,” p. 476. Roosen is referring to how historians can understand and make use of ceremonial, but it also applies to how such ceremonies were perceived at the time.

^[14] In his “Political Testament,” Cardinal Richelieu wrote that Philip II’s minister of state Antonio Pérez had advised the king first of all to make certain he “appeared powerful” at the papal court. “This was not without reason, since the ambassadors of all the princes of Christendom present there judge that those who are treated by that court with respect and as having authority are in fact those actually most powerful.” Of course, Richelieu also noted that the papal court’s assessment of status often changed rapidly. The Political Testament of Cardinal Richelieu trans. Henry Bertram Hill (Madison, WI,1961), p. 95.

^[15] Precedence disputes of course occurred throughout the late Middle Ages and the early modern period, especially in Italy, where the practice of maintaining resident embassies began. Early modern Italy thus also led the way in developing political rituals and diplomatic protocol. See Edward Muir, Ritual in Early Modern Europe (Cambridge, 1997), pp. 229-262, and for an early example of Italian political ritual, Richard C. Trexler, The Libro Cerimoniale of the Florentine Republic (Geneva, 1978).

^[16] Visceglia, p. 129.

^[17] V. Beltrán de Heredia, “La embajada de Castilla en el Concilio de Basilea y su discusión con los ingleses acerca de la precedencia,” Hispania Sacra Vol. X (1957), pp. 5-31. Heredía writes that there had been tension between Castilian and English diplomats as early as 1422. Renaissance humanists loved to debate the issue of which country became Christian first; for Spanish examples, see Ottavio di Camillo, “Humanism in Spain, “ in Renaissance Humanism: Foundations, Forms, and Legacy, ed. Albert Rabil Jr. (Philadelphia, 1988), Vol. II, pp. 55-108.

^[18] It should be noted that the terms “state,” “nation,” and even “Spain,” are problematic when applied to the Iberian kingdoms in the early modern period. On Spain as a nation-state, see Helmut Koenigsberger, “Spain,” in National Consciousness, History, and Political Culture in Early-Modern Europe , ed. Orest Ranum (Baltimore, 1975), pp. 144-172.

^[19] See Ramón Menéndez Pidal, “The Significance of the Reign of Isabella the Catholic, According to her Contemporaries,” in Spain in the Fifteenth Century 1369-1516, ed. Roger Highfield (London, 1972), pp. 380-404, and Peggy K. Liss, Isabel the Queen: Life and Times (Oxford, 1992), chaps. 9 and 18.

^[20] Satow, p. 21.

^[21] Philip II of Spain (London, 1975), p. 27. Philip’s biographers disagree about how much this predicament bothered Philip. Fernand Braudel writes that Philip wanted to have himself declared “Emperor of the Indies,” which would remedy the embarrassing lack of an imperial title. The Mediterranean and the Mediterranean World trans. Siân Reynolds (New York, 1973), Vol. II, p. 675. Similarly, after the great victory of Lepanto in 1571, a rumor circulated in Italy that Philip might lead a new crusade in the Holy Land and claim the old title “Emperor of the East.” Parker, The Grand Strategy of Philip II , p. 101. Recently, however, Henry Kamen has dismissed these stories as “pure gossip” circulated by Italian diplomats. Philip of Spain (New Haven and London, 1997), p. 230. Given the lengths Philip’s ambassadors went to in the precedence disputes, I would think Philip would have welcomed a simple solution.

^[22] This incident is described in one of the early handbooks devoted to diplomatic practice, L’Ambassadeur et ses fonctions, by Abraham van de Wiquefort (The Hague, 1681), English translation by John Digby, The Embassador and his Functions (London, 1716), pp. 209-210. Wiquefort related a number of the French-Spanish precedence disputes, and clearly believed France to be in the right.

^[23] Archivo General de Simancas, Sección Estado (AGSE), 1323, #198.

^[24] José Antonio Maravall has written about the aversion toward “novelties” (novedades) in Spanish political thinking in the seventeenth century: Culture of the Baroque: Analysis of a Historical Structure, trans. Terry Cochran (Minneapolis, 1986), pp. 126-128. Clearly this tendency already existed in the time of Philip II.

^[25] This is reinforced in another letter Philip sent to Vargas, dated 9 June 1557, where he again says that Vargas is obviously still the imperial ambassador, and thus should still have precedence. AGSE, 1323, #185. Geoffrey Parker writes that Philip only escaped “apprentice” status when Charles died in September 1558, and this would seem to confirm that interpretation. Philip II (3rd ed., Chicago and La Salle Il., 1995), p. 23.

^[26] AGSE, 1323, #197.

^[27] See Edward Muir, Civic Ritual in Renaissance Venice (Princeton, 1981), pp. 119-34 and 232-237.

^[28] AGSE, 1323, #214.

^[29] Ibid.

^[30] May 27, 1558; AGSE, 1323, #217.

^[31] Louis Paris, Négociations, lettres, et pièces diverses relatives au règne de François II, tireés du portfeuille de Sébastien de l’Ausbespine (Paris, 1841), pp. 505-506, n. 1.

^[32] Muir writes that after the Venetian decision to support French claims, “the Spanish envoy refused to participate in any procession where the French ambassador appeared.” Civic Ritual, p. 236, n. 34. We should note, however, that it was the Venetians who first suggested this solution.

^[33] Vargas to Princess Juana, September 4, 1558; AGSE, 1323, #222.

^[34] Paolo Sarpi’s chronicle of the Council notes a precedence dispute between the ambassadors of Hungary and Portugal in 1562, which was easily solved as one ambassador was a cleric and could be seated separately; no such solution presented itself for France and Spain. A History of the Council of Trent, trans. Nathanael Brent (London, 1676), Book 6, p. 449.

^[35] See Hubert Jedin, A History of the Council of Trent, trans. Dom Ernest Graf (St. Louis,1957), Vol. I, and idem., “Catholic Reform and Counter Reformation,” in History of the Church ed. Hubert Jedin and John Dolan (New York, 1980), Vol. V.

^[36] Calendar of State Papers and Manuscripts Relating to English Affairs, existing in the Archives and Collections of Venice, Vol. VII (London, 1890; reprint Nendeln, 1970), p. 270.

^[37] For Venice’s importance as a place to gather news, see Peter Burke, “Early Modern Venice as a Center of Information and Communication,” in Venice Reconsidered: The History and Civilization of an Italian City-State, 1297-1797, eds. John Martin and Dennis Romano (Baltimore and London, 2000), pp. 389-419.

^[38] Parker, Philip II, pp. 63-64.

^[39] Mack P. Holt, The French Wars of Religion 1562-1629 (Cambridge, 1995), pp. 50-75.

^[40] Friedrich Edelmeyer, “Aspectos del trabajo de los embajadores de la casa de Austria en la segunda mitad del siglo XVI,” Pedralbes 9 (1989), pp. 37-56.

^[41] Letter dated February 9, 1559; quoted in Blas Casado Quintanilla, “La cuestión de la precedencia España-Francia en la tercera asamblea del Concilio de Trento,” Hispania Sacra 36 (1984), p. 199.

^[42] Ibid., pp. 200-201.

^[43] Paris, pp. 504-505.

^[44] Colección de documentos inéditos para la historia de España (CODOIN), Vol. XCVIII (Madrid, 1891), p. 282.

^[45] The Spanish and Austrian branches of the Habsburg family often disagreed on key issues; see Bohdan Chudoba, Spain and the Empire, 1519-1643 (New York, 1969).

^[46] Luna to Philip, March 29, 1562; CODOIN, Vol. XCVIII, pp. 304-313. The refusal to grant this favor was not the first time that Ferdinand in particular disappointed Philip. At a Habsburg family meeting in 1551, Ferdinand had promised (under pressure from his brother Charles) to recognize Philip as his “imperial Vicar” in Italy, but changed his mind when he became Emperor in 1558. Despite such conflicts, however, Ferdinand and Philip usually maintained friendly relations. Parker, Grand Strategy, pp. 78-80.

^[47] Vargas had evidently been campaigning since his arrival in Rome. In March 1560, Paolo Tiepolo reported talk at Philip’s court about the possible recall of Vargas, but “his supporters maintain that it is well to keep him there on account of the question of precedence between Spain and France, as if an Ambassador in ordinary were kept there, and any prejudicial act in that matter were to occur, they could then no longer defend the Spanish claim....” Calendar of State Papers... Venice, Vol. VII, p. 179.

^[48] Parker, Grand Strategy, pp. 80-81.

^[49] AGSE, 892, #23.

^[50] AGSE, 892, #95.

^[51] AGSE, 892, #16.

^[52] Vargas to Philip, 28 November, 1562; AGSE, 892, #79.

^[53] Ibid.

^[54] Ibid.

^[55] The problem may have been Vargas himself. In April 1563, Requeséns wrote to Philip that Pius blamed Vargas for the bad blood between Madrid and Rome; the pope begged Philip not to bring ruin to the Council and joy to heretics. AGSE, 892, #165.

^[56] Borromeo’s support for Spanish claims is ironic, considering that in the 1570s, as Archbishop of Milan, he would get into a serious conflict with Requeséns, then the Spanish Governor-General of Milan, over the issue of jurisdiction: in fact, Borromeo at one point excommunicated Requeséns. See José M. March, Don Luis de Requeséns en el gobierno de Milan, 1571-1573 (Madrid, 1943).

^[57] Vargas made clear his opinion that the French delegates to the Council were up to no good: “I guarantee that as much as they hide and dissimulate, they will soon uncover their [true] purpose... nobody thinks well of them.” AGSE, 892, #79.

^[58] Guise nearly wrested control of the Council away from Spanish and Italian cardinals, in a bitter power struggle; only a last-minute compromise allowed the Council to come to a successful conclusion. Jedin, History of the Church, pp. 491-495.

^[59] Eduoard Frémy, Essai sur les Diplomates du temps de la Ligue (Paris, 1873), pp. 35-38. Frémy, a French historian, stated that French supremacy over Spain had been accepted since “time immemorial” (p. 33); Casado Quintanilla suggests that Guise may have been willing to accept a compromise (pp. 209-210).

^[60] Philip to Luna, 9 June 1563 (copy). Instituto de Valencia de Don Juan (Madrid), Envío 9, Caja 14, #1.

^[61] Requeséns to Philip, June 1563; AGSE, 892, #184. The Spanish attitude toward “dissimulation” is interesting: it seems to be acceptable when they do it, but not otherwise. See J. A. Fernández-Santamaría, Reason of State and Statecraft in Spanish Political Thought, 1595-1640 (Lanham MD, 1983), chap.3, and J. R. Woodhouse, “Honorable Dissimulation: Some Italian advice for the Renaissance Diplomat,” Proceedings of the British Academy No. 84 (Oxford, 1993), pp. 25-50.

^[62] Luna to Philip, 24 July 1563; CODOIN, Vol. XCVIII, pp. 470-471.

^[63] Considering the growing threat of Huguenot secession and civil war in France, the idea of a French ambassador threatening the withdrawal of the entire French nation from obedience to the Papacy must have been shocking. See below for more such threats.

^[64] Casado Quintanilla, pp. 213-214.

^[65] Sarpi, Book 7, p. 593; Sforza Pallavicino, Istoria del Concilio di Trento (Rome, 1846), Vol. III, pp. 19-20.

^[66] Philip to Luna, September 22, 1563; CODOIN, Vol. XCVIII, pp. 501-502.

^[67] Ludwig von Pastor, History of the Popes from the Close of the Middle Ages, ed. Ralph Francis Keen (London, 1891), Vol. XV, pp. 328-329.

^[68] Correspondencia diplomática entre España y la Santa Sede durante el pontificado de S. Pio V (Madrid 1914), Vol. II, p. lxvii. For more information on Requeséns, see March, Don Luis de Requeséns, and Geoffrey Parker, The Dutch Revolt (Ithaca, NY,1977), pp. 163-170.

^[69] Requeséns’ opinion of the Pope was somewhat less flattering: in one letter to Philip, he recommended that the King offer a military alliance to Pius, “because the Pope wishes to be perceived as a soldier and a man of great affairs.” Requeséns to Philip, December 26, 1563; Primeros diez meses, pp. 153-156.

^[70] For more on how Spanish resident ambassadors played a crucial role in Spanish-Papal relations in this period, see Thomas Dandelet, Spanish Rome 1500-1700 (New Haven and London, 2001), pp. 125-129, and Michael J. Levin, “A Spanish Eye on Italy: Spanish Ambassadors in the Sixteenth Century” (Ph.D. diss., Yale University, 1997).

^[71] D’Oysel commanded the French troops in Scotland and even held power when Mary became ill. See Rosalind K. Marshall, Mary of Guise (London, 1977), passim., and Marie Noëlle Baudouin-Matuszek, “Un ambassadeur en Ecosse au XVIe siècle: Henri Clutin d’Oisel,” Revue historique 569 (Jan-March 1989), pp. 77-131.

^[72] Pastor, Vol. XVI, pp. 197-198.

^[73] Requeséns to Philip, February 16, 1564; Primeros diez meses, pp. 234-246.

^[74] Ibid., pp. 236-237.

^[75] Sixteenth-century French humanists and legists likewise began pressing claims for their monarchy’s preeminence; Donald R. Kelley, “France,” in The Renaissance in national context, eds. Roy Porter and Mikulas Teich (Cambridge,1992), pp. 128-131.

^[76] Ibid.

^[77] Parker, Philip II, p. 121.

^[78] See my conclusion.

^[79] The court at Rome participated in a great many rituals and ceremonies, which were meant to establish papal dominance and a hierarchy among the cardinals; see Peter Burke, “Sacred rulers, royal priests: rituals of the early modern popes,” in The historical anthropology of early modern Italy (Cambridge, 1987), pp. 168-182.

^[80] Requeséns to Philip, March 30, 1564; AGSE, 895, #52.

^[81] Ibid.

^[82] According to Baudouin-Matuszek, D’Oysel and the French cardinal-protector Babou successfully persuaded Pius “to resist Philip II’s solicitations to crown him emperor of the Indies” (p. 127), so the Spaniards were losing on several fronts.

^[83] Requeséns to Philip, March 26, 1564; AGSE, 896, #46.

^[84] AGSE, 896, #53.

^[85] Ibid.

^[86] Ibid. There is considerable debate about the degree to which there was any sense of national or cultural identity in the Italian peninsula. Many sixteenth-century Italians distinguished themselves as a separate (and superior) people from the rest of Europe, but it is unclear whether the concept of “Italy” existed at the time. See Denys Hay, “Italy and Barbarian Europe,” Italian Renaissance Studies, ed. E. F. Jacob (London, 1960), pp. 48-68, and Felix Gilbert, “Italy,” in National Consciousness, pp. 21-42. In any case the Spanish in Italy clearly did perceive the Italians as a distinct people and nation, with distinct anti-Spanish tendencies. In fact, the “Black Legend” of Spanish cruelty and domineering imperialism probably started in Italy; see Sverker Arnoldsson, “La Leyenda Negra: Estudios sobre sus orígenes,” Goteborg Universitets Arsskrift Vol. LXVI, No. 3 (1960), pp. 7-147, and Ricardo García Cárcel, La Leyenda Negra: historia y opinión (Madrid, 1992).

^[87] AGSE, 896, #53.

^[88] Requeséns to Philip, May 11, 1564; AGSE, 896, #62. The “books” probably refers to the list drawn up in 1504.

^[89] Requeséns to Philip, May 22, 1564; AGSE, 896, #68.

^[90] Requeséns to the Duke of Alcalá; Primeros diez meses, pp. 390-391.

^[91] AGSE, 897, #60.

^[92] The chief of these at the time was Francisco Pacheco, bishop of Burgos (d. 1579), who was the “Cardinal Protector” of Spain. From the fifteenth century on, almost all Catholic states had a particular cardinal assigned the duty of representing his nation’s interests, although this function was for the most part assumed by resident ambassadors. Enciclopedia universal ilustrada europeo-americano Vol. XI (Madrid, 1958), p. 832.

^[93] Requeséns to Zúñiga, August 17, 1564; Primeros diez meses, pp. 413-419.

^[94] Letters Requeséns to Philip, 18 and 31 August; Primeros diez meses, pp. 419-422, 444-447.

^[95] Calendar of Letters and State Papers relating to English Affairs, preserved primarily in the Archives of Simancas, Elizabeth Vol. I (London, 1892, reprint Nendeln, 1971), p. 451.

^[96] Ibid., p. 452. For more on Spanish ambassadors in England, see Manuel Fernández Álvarez, Tres embajadores de Felipe II en Inglaterra (Madrid, 1951); Charles Howard Carter, The Secret Diplomacy of the Habsburgs, 1598-1625 (New York and London, 1964); and more recently, Albert J. Loomie, SJ, “Spanish Secret Diplomacy at the Court of James,” in Politics, Religion and Diplomacy in Early Modern Europe: Essays in Honor of De Lamar Jensen, eds. Malcolm R. Thorp and Arthur J. Slavin (Kirksville MO, 1994), pp. 231-246.

^[97] Renaissance Diplomacy, p. 175.

^[98] Letter dated January 7, 1566; Dépeches de M. de Fourquevaux, ambassadeur du roi Charles IX en Espagne, 1565-1572, ed. C. Douais (Paris, 1896), Vol. I, p. 43.

^[99] In the letter by Guzman de Silva cited above, the Spanish ambassador remarked that over the issue of precedence, “These proud Frenchmen lose their heads sometimes and one has to be for ever on the watch for them.” Calendar of Letters... Elizabeth, Vol. I, p. 452.

^[100] Correspondencia diplomática, Vol. I, pp. 77-78.

^[101] Indeed, he soon proved too holy even for the Spaniards to deal with, as he had no interest in power politics or political compromise. As John Lynch writes, “Pius V was an enigma to Philip and his ministers. Political popes they understood, but a saint confounded them.” Spain Under the Habsburgs (2nd ed. paperback, New York, 1984) Vol. I, p. 240.

^[102] Requeséns to Philip, January 7, 1566; AGSE, 902, #124.

^[103] Requeséns to Philip, January 11, 1566; AGSE, 902, #51.

^[104] Requeséns to Philip, January 24, 1566; Correspondencia diplomática, Vol. I, pp. 102-110.

^[105] Pius V to Philip, January 24, 1566; Ibid., pp. 111-112.

^[106] Philip to Requeséns, February 1, 1566; Ibid., pp. 117-122. Philip’s relations with the papacy were complex: he relied on papal subsidies to finance his operations, but he was highly jealous of his role as secular Defender of the Faith. See John Lynch, “Philip II and the Papacy,” Transactions of the Royal Historical Society 5th series, 2 (1961), pp. 23-42.

^[107] Requeséns to Philip, July 4, 1566; Correspondencia diplomática, Vol. I, pp. 278-283.

^[108] Requeséns to Philip, December 27, 1566; Ibid., pp. 429-436.

^[109] Mattingly, Renaissance Diplomacy, p. 177.

^[110] Roosen writes that “throughout the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries, Spanish diplomats generally maintained a ceremonial position equal to or above the French position.” Early Modern Diplomatic Ceremonial, p. 463. This may have been true at the imperial court at Vienna, but it certainly did not seem to be the case in Rome.

^[111] Requeséns to Philip, December 28, 1571; Correspondencia diplomática, Vol. IV, pp. 601-604. At the time Requeséns was no longer the resident ambassador, but only a special envoy. He explained that since it was merely his own personal honor at stake rather than his monarch’s, he was willing to relinquish any special treatment. The gesture was significant: it demonstrates that he understood the symbolism of representing his King and his nation.

^[112] Zúñiga to Philip, June 22, 1576; AGSE, 926, #138. Requeséns was resident ambassador 1563-1568, Zúñiga 1568-1579.

^[113] Wiquefort, p. 219.

^[114] Renaissance Diplomacy, p. 218.

^[115] William Roosen, The Age of Louis XIV: The Rise of Modern Diplomacy (Cambridge MA ,1976), pp. 180-181.

^[116] “Elizabethan Diplomacy: The Subtle Revolution,” in Politics, Religion and Diplomacy, pp. 267-288.

^[117] Mattingly describes how Ferdinand the Catholic developed a corps of diplomats as early as the 1480s; Renaissance Diplomacy, pp. 125-131.

^[118] Stephen Greenblatt discusses the connection between Renaissance diplomacy and self- identity in RenaissanceSelf-Fashioning (Chicago, 1980), chap. 3.

^[119] Parker, The Grand Strategy of Philip II, pp. 80-83; see also Manuel Rivero Rodríguez, “Felipe II y los <Potentados de Italia>,” Bulletin de L’Institut Historique Belge de Rome LXIII (1993), La dimensione europea dei Farnese, pp. 337-370.

^[120] Fernand Braudel, for example, writes that after 1559 Italy experienced a “pax hispanica” which lasted until the mid-seventeenth century. “L’Italia fuori d’Italia: Due secoli e tre Italie,” Storia d’Italia: Dalla caduta dell’Impero roman al secolo XVIII (Turin, 1974), Vol. II, pp. 2156-2157. Also see Romolo Quazza, Preponderanza Spagnuola 1559-1700 (2nd ed., Milan, 1950), and more recently, Rivero Rodríguez, who writes that Cateau-Cambrésis “consolidated the hegemony of the Catholic Monarchy in Italy” and “opened a a period of Spanish preponderance in the Catholic world” (pp. 338-339).

^[121] In 1574, Requeséns wrote to Philip that “the preservation, peace and grandeur of Spain depends on the affairs of Italy being well ordered.” Parker, The Grand Strategy of Philip II, p. 82.