The Reign of Philip IV

    Philip IV (1605, r. 1621-1665) (Figures 4.1 – 4.6) assumed the throne upon the death of his father, Philip III (Figure 4.7) on March 31, 1621. The Spanish people rejoiced in the promise the young king held. The court had become a den of corruption under Philip III’s favorite, the Duke of Lerma (Figure 4.14). Spanish subjects suffered both heavy taxation and concurrent stagnation of industry across the land. The day the king was especially significant. The Truce of Antwerp, settled in very unfavorable terms for Spain, expired, freeing the country to take a new tact in its dealings with Northern Europe. The change in government presented the newly crowned king and his subjects with an opportunity to improve the country, its government and the economy. Clearly, the obligations and practices of the previous kings had to be reformed in order for Spain to survive and prosper. Philip recognized the needs of his kingdom. Martin Hume cites an unpublished document penned in the monarch’s own hand that summed up the state of affairs:

I found finance so exhausted that all resources were anticipated for several years, and my patrimony had been so reduced that in my father’s time alone 96,000,000 crowns had been granted in gifts, etc.; besides what had been spent in the other realms from which no returns have been received. The currency had been raised to three times its face value....Ecclesiastical affairs were in such disorder, that it was asserted from Rome that innumerable dispensations for simony had been obtained for archbishoprics, bishoprics, prebends, etc....As for justice, on the very first day of my reign I was obliged to put my foot down, as will be recollected,... for the ministers who received bribes were more numerous than those who did not... I had only seven ships of war in the fleet.... India and the Indies were well nigh lost (50-1).

    Unfortunately, the king would be unable to confront these problems single-handedly, and, eventually, fell under the spell of his own favorite, Don Gaspar de Guzmán (Figure 4.15 - 16). Later granted a dukedom and known to history as the Conde Duque de Olivares, Guzmán had his own agenda for Spanish domestic and world policy. His twin ideals found embodiment in the words conservación and reputación. First, he sought to defend the Catholic faith against the attacks of the religious heretics of the north. Second, he worked to restore the prestige of the monarchy which he felt had been lost by Philip III’s privado, the Duque de Lerma. The close working relationship between the King and his minister allowed Olivares to dominate Spanish policy completely. In the world arena, he continued to make war with Northern Europe even though the country could ill afford such expenditures. Moreover, on the home front, he spent lavishously on entertainment for the royal family. The constant fiestas, the building of the new palace of Buen Retiro (Figure 4.17) and his extensive patronage of the arts seem to have struck those who paid most of the King’s bills as a dereliction of duty. Palace intrigues and the minister’s insistence that the King remain in Madrid while his troops fought in Catalonia and elsewhere heightened the tension between the two men. Coupled with the lack of support, or even outright hostility, from other members of the royal family and an increasingly dissatisfied public, the split in the ranks of senior olivaristas left the minister powerless and alienated from the king. The end of Olivares´ influence came in 1643 when, once again, the king found himself responsible for the welfare of his subjects.

    R. A. Stradling names the period from 1630 to 1665 "The Politics of Total War (134)." Open war with France started in 1635. Catalonia and Portugal seceded in 1640. Spanish troops battled in Flanders (Figure 4.18 – 19). Dutch pirates attacked strongholds in the Americas. Seemingly endless English intrigues and hostilities toward the crown added yet another threat. All around him, Philip IV felt the pressure of an untenable foreign policy, yet could not pull himself away from its grip. Personally, he also experienced the assault of his own weaknesses as they came to haunt his soul. The public rebuked the hypocrisy of his plan of austerity for others and his personal extravagant display of wealth in the form of elaborate court celebrations. His marital infidelities and self-acknowledged sinning chipped away at his self-confidence. Finally, the death in 1644 of Isabel of Bourbon (Figure 4.20 - 21), his queen, and several children, most notably Baltasar Carlos (Figure 4.22 – 25), (María Teresa (Figure 4.26 – 27) was the only surviving child from the marriage), threw the king into total depression. The price of war, foreign, domestic and personal, exacted its sum from the man and left him doubtful of his ability. The closing of the doors of the corrales de comedias during the various periods of mourning, like the king’s own heart, were only one sign of the near collapse of Spanish society.

    The king’s resolve, as well as the playhouses, returned upon his second marriage to his niece, Mariana of Austria (Figure 4.28 - 29), originally intended to be the bride of Baltasar Carlos. The wedding celebrations held in 1649 heralded a renewed vigor that lasted only a short time. Seeking to entertain the young queen, the arts flourished. However, the couple had little in common and Philip, very set in his ways, would treat his queen more as a daughter than as a wife. Hume paraphrases an observer in the Spanish court and adds his own thoughts:

It was possible to foretell a year beforehand exactly what the King would do on a given day and hour. His demeanour in public was like that of a statue, and when he received ambassadors or ministers it was noticed that no muscle of this face moved but his lips, and he rarely showing any emotion, even by a smile. Already the haughty disillusionment, represented by Velázquez so finely in the later portraits, had been fixed indelibly upon his features, and his eyes had grown bleary with remorseful tears (419).

    The couple’s mood swings, Mariana’s homesickness and reaction to her husband’s infidelities and Philip’s disappointment in failing to father a male heir, found only temporary relief in the splendid festivities organized on their behalf.

    The remainder of Philip’s reign dragged out in a gloomy haze, punctuated only by the birth of several children: a daughter, Margarita (Figures 4.30 – 31), who later married the Emperor Leopold I, a son, Felipe Próspero (Figure 4.32), who lived to the age of four and another son, the future Charles II (1661, r. 1665-1700) (Figures 4.33 – 35). The arbitrary seizure of property to finance the government, coupled with staggering taxation, effectively stunted economic growth. After years of supporting the crown, the nobility had been bled dry. According to Hume, idleness and pretension among the Spanish people soared, while the work "had to be done by foreigners; there being as many as 40,000 French subjects in Madrid dressing as Spaniards, and calling themselves Burgundians or Walloons, to escape the special tax on foreigners" (443). Public begging, robbery and prostitution overran the streets. One contemporary observer, Robert Alcide de Bonnecase de Saint-Maurice, states that 30,000 "women of evil life" worked the streets, "their shameless impudence in broad daylight having the effect of lowering the standard of behaviour, even of decent women who thought it no insult, but rather the contrary, to be addressed in amorous terms by strange men in the street."¹ The author attributes the erosion of moral values to a lack of feminine influence within Spanish society (Hume 445). Citing Spain’s "taint" of Oriental tradition in the treatment of women, Hume reasons that the segregation of ladies and modest women from public life left the streets abandoned to "evil" and men "free from the salutary influence exercised by the presence of good women" (446). At this time in his life, Philip rarely ventured out in public. His one last hope of redemption, the unification of the Iberian Peninsula by force, failed when dashed by Portuguese and English troops in defeats at Schomberg at Amexial in 1663 and Villaviciosa in 1665.

    Philip the Planet King died on September 17, 1665. Hardly anyone at court wept. All were too busy courting the Queen Regent and her son, Charles II. Ironically, Philip’s body lay in state in the same room that hosted the comedias during his lifetime. The man, like all those dramas, ended only to be remembered in the minds of those who knew him and the words that were used to describe him. The curtain fell on the reign of Philip IV, but his actions still live preserved in the cultures of Europe and America.

Spain in America

    The origins of Spanish colonization can be traced to the late medieval world of the Mediterranean, particularly the Iberian Peninsula. The unification of Christian armies gathered to fight against Moorish occupation of the Peninsula gradually consolidated a system of beliefs and culture that, although varying region by region, could be recognized as European. As alliances were struck, leaders began to command larger areas and greater populations. Italian cities developed a network of trade and exploration throughout the Mediterranean and the coast of Africa. Few, however, ventured outside the Straits of Gibraltar for fear of the unknown. During the fifteenth century, exploration took a turn towards the south. The man most responsible for shifting the focus of seafaring from Italy to the Iberian Peninsula, Prince Henry the Navigator of Portugal (1394-1460),² mounted an attack in 1415 upon Ceuta in, what Charles Gibson calls, "the first act of state-directed imperialism of modern European history" (2). Henry personified "a medley of motivations derived from the medieval heritage and from the contingencies of his own epoch, motivations in which nationalistic, Christian, commercial, scientific, and military purposes were united in a common effort" (Gibson 2). Seeking to establish contact with the supposed Christian kingdom of Prester John, the Prince envisioned surrounding Moorish Africa with Christian armies. The subsequent expansion into African forced Europe to confront its fears about the unknown and develop a strategy for controlling the newly found lands. The union of the crowns of Castille and Aragon in 1469, with its authoritative and organized political system, facilitated the exploration and exploitation of America.

    Fueled by a peninsular rivalry, Ferdinand and Isabella openly attacked Portuguese strongholds, justifying their action by claiming that Africa had been a possession of the Visigothic Spanish kings (Gibson 4). The two nations, setting a precedence for the justified occupation of foreign lands, agreed to divide the overseas world formally in the Treaty of Acaçovas (1479).³ They each recognized the other’s right to possession of lands outside of their borders. At this point, the role of papal authority in the colonizing process took on greater importance. The Pope had traditionally granted Portuguese monarchs the rights of sovereignty over the newly charted lands along with the authority of enslavement over non-Christian inhabitants. After Christopher Columbus’s⁴ first voyage and the realization that Castile had made contact with the "Indies," Spanish ambassadors in Rome set about to convince the Pope to grant Ferdinand and Isabella sovereignty over the newly-encountered lands. The papal bulls of 1493⁵ conferred such rights, authorizing Spanish title to those lands mapped by Columbus and other non-Christian lands to be discovered in the future. Further bulls, granted by Alexander VI, a Spanish Borgia, revealed the papacy’s pro-Spanish attitude, leaving the nation "free to engage in worldwide exploration by westward or southern navigation…Only the actual possessions of Christian princes were now excluded" (Gibson 17). Mirroring their own peninsular rivalry, Spain and Portugal dominated exploration, excluded non-Iberian powers and set the tone for the first stages of the colonial project.

    The transfer of Spanish institutions to the New World had to be carried out by a complex system of imposition, adaptation and creation. Language provided the means for such a translocation for, as Antonio de Nebrija observed in his Gramática de la lengua española, "siempre la lengua fue compañera del imperio" (Prólogo). However, all those participating in the conversation did not speak the same language. The myriad levels of conversation continue to problematize the relation between Europe and America. For the European, the range of discourse included, among others, those exclusively devoted to the exploitation of natural resources for their own personal wealth, those seeking a new and better life than their own depressed society could offer and those gathering souls for membership in the Church. Native American voices spoke from many positions, expressing awe upon seeing the technology brought by Spaniards, fear upon seeing the destruction and greed wielded against them, optimism in the opportunity to gain power over rival tribes and hope in the safekeeping of their most sacred customs. Few would argue that the awkward negotiation between the two cultures did not claim a high price, but the resulting interchange produced new discourses, new ideas and new societies that found expression both in the New World and in Spain.

    After the initial excitement generated by news of the conquest of America had faded, several segments of Spanish society began to take a hard look at the conquistadores’ activities. Although supported by the papacy and the monarchy, these activities did not seem to coincide with Christian values of peace and love. Within the metropolis, debate about the role of the colonizer with respect to the colonized found its way into the highest levels of state and religious discussion. The nation as a whole felt its conscience burdened by a policy that did not satisfy its own needs much less the needs of those that it most directly affected, the Native Americans. Therefore, the state created a means to appease its guilt and justify the conquistadores. This tool of imposition was called the requerimiento. Written by Juan López de Palacios Rubio shortly before 1514, the document contained a summary of Christian history and was to be read to the natives, by interpreters if possible, at the start of a battle. In theory, the reading was intended to convince the Amerindians to recognize the authority of the colonizing institutions and warn them of the consequences if they did not accept these terms. In practice, however, the requerimiento worked to shift the blame for the destruction of the conquest from the colonizer to the colonized. Usually read in Spanish and from a distance that prevented clear reception, the pronouncement failed to be grasped by the natives. The Spaniards purposefully, then, interpreted this lack of response as a denial of their terms and proceeded to carry out the penalties for not complying with their declaration: coercive subjugation, alienation of property and the appropriate punishment of traitors (Gibson 39). Offering little hope of true communication and understanding, the requerimiento instead substituted the Amerindians non-communication with a declaration of war. At this moment, the Spanish, with just cause in their opinion, snatched away both the natives’ freedoms and their voices. Tzvetan Todorov cites a gruesome passage from the Pedro de Valdivia’s 1550 report to the king on a group of Indians who were unwilling to submit to the requerimiento: "Two hundred had their hands and noses cut off for their contumacy, inasmuch as I had many times sent them messengers and given them commands as ordered by Your Majesty."⁶ Whereas for apologists of the conquest the requerimiento provided the "just war" needed to defend the conquistadores’ behavior, for others the document sparked a philosophical controversy in reaction to such a position.

    At the center of the debate on the juridical basis of the conquest, Francisco de Vitoria⁷ rejected previous arguments in defense of "just wars" against the Amerindians and developed his own justifications for the conquest. First, in his argument for the use of war, Vitoria upheld the freedom of any individual or society to trade with any other based on the principle of reciprocity. Those who prevented such exchanges could be engaged in battle. The argument does not apply to the area of religion where only Spaniards had the right to preach their Gospels. The second focus of his defense of "just war" targets the tyranny of native leaders whose misrule must be overcome. Tyranny is loosely defined, not remarkably, to include those behaviors deemed uncivilized by Spanish custom. This floating standard demonstrates the self-promoting discourse present in the colonizing nation that acts as judicial, legislative and executive agent. Free to determine what tyranny includes and what its punishment should be, the state, according to Vitoria’s argument, can then police other nations all the while reconciling its actions with its laws. Subtly present among Vitoria’s views lies the paternal relationship that characterized many colonial encounters. Since the Amerindians cannot take care of themselves and are, in fact, incapable of governing, he reasons that the monarchy had the duty to intervene and provide guardianship for the natives. In the end, as Todorov notes, Vitoria’s discourse "supplies a legal basis to the wars of colonization which had hitherto had none" (150).

    Perhaps the most famous debate between those in favor of a "just war" against the Amerindians and those opposed occurred in Valladolid in 1550. If nothing else, the debates demonstrate an unusual tolerance in Spanish society where both sides openly expressed their opinions without fearing repercussions. On one hand, Juan Ginés de Sepúlveda,⁸ citing Aristotle’s Poetics, claimed that some men were born to be slaves and that the Amerindians occupied such a position in the hierarchy of human society. Limiting the hierarchic relationship between terms to a simple superior/inferior binary, he neatly divided up the world placing items such as Spaniard, adult, husband, moderation, reason and soul in the superior realm and Indian, child, wife, violence, appetite and body within the inferior. The conquest, for him, meant the destruction of the inferior and the perseverance of the superior, thus proving his assertion. Bartolomé de Las Casas,⁹ on the other hand, once an active participant in the colonial project, promoted colonial reform as a Dominican priest and later as Bishop of Chiapas. He saw Spanish authority as important with respect to the conversion of the native population to Christianity, but did not believe that it should entail the destructive practices so frequent in the New World. Since the Amerindians had never been exposed to Christian doctrine, the priest argued, they could not be held accountable for their lack of faith. The church had the duty to tell the natives about Christ, but it could not physically force them to convert because as rational beings they were entitled to rule themselves. Las Casas set personal values above social imperatives, creating a subject position from which the Amerindians could establish their own place among European discourse. Ultimately gaining more force within official circles, the bishop’s arguments persuaded the monarchy to halt all new conquests while more evidence was collected and, later, to require that all explorations into new lands be licensed, granting one only to those who could prove that they loved peace and worked for the honor of God. Unfortunately, these reforms came at the end of the "age of conquest," too late to halt the atrocities committed and unable to affect the next institution to hold the Native Americans in its grasp.

    The next institutional policy offered by the crown, the encomienda, was established to facilitate the conversion of Native Americans to Christian and European culture and to organize a dependable labor system based on native service to an encomendero, or Spanish colonist. Technically, the institution entrusted inhabitants of a town to an encomendero who in turn was expected to render military service to the crown and provide for the Christianization of those under his rule. The colonist’s reward came in the form of tribute and labor extracted from the native populations. This arrangement created a class society in which the encomenderos, former conquistadores, leading civilian colonists, and other privileged Spaniards, formed an early colonial aristocracy capable of exercising power over large groups of people. The colonial Church, also dedicated to the conversion of the Amerindians based on a Christian model, and the secular state, cautious of the increasing control over American issues by colonists, carefully monitored the encomienda. As a tool to bridge from a state of war to a state of peace, the institution "ensured the continued subordination of conquered people and their utilization by new white masters" (Gibson 56). Officially free citizens, the natives, nonetheless, occupied the lowest position in colonial society and worked at the most demanding physical jobs like slaves. Manipulated through physical or financial coercion, they could be sentenced to actual slavery as punishment, thus permitting their total exploitation by the landowner. The New Laws of 1542-3¹⁰ strictly forbade such practices and directly addressed the increasing tension between the encomienda and the Spanish state. The colonists’ growing political power generated by the control over large labor pools and the material wealth from native tribute worried the crown. Coupled with a desire by encomenderos to make their status hereditary, the king, acting in an effort to stop the further deterioration of state authority, prohibited the creation of new encomiendas and severely limited the bequeathing of existing ones. Ironically, the end of the encomienda system was brought about by the sharp decline of the native populations that by the early seventeenth century had completely disappeared in some areas. This loss of life translated into a loss of income for the colonial aristocracy who lived off the labor of others, finally heralding the decay of the institution know as the encomienda. As a tool of the Spanish Empire, the system had effectively transferred the wealth of the colonies to the metropolis. On the other hand, it allowed the colonizer’s institutions, beliefs and culture to move from the Peninsula to America. Finally, the encomienda created a rival to the Spanish crown at once differing from and deferring monarchical authority in the New World.

    Officially, the Indies were just one of many kingdoms held by the Spanish Habsburgs. In Castile, the governing bodies most directly responsible for the administration of the various kingdoms, the Councils, made laws, heard court cases and nominated appointments to religious and secular offices. The Consejo de Indias, established in 1524, supervised the colonization of America from the Peninsula, creating a bureaucracy that regulated every detail of colonial life without actually experiencing it firsthand. The vast amount of paperwork, discussions and maneuvering gradually placed such a burden on the office that it lost its effectiveness. In America, the viceroy, usually appointed by the king and Council, occupied the highest official position. Among other duties, he collected revenues, maintained colonial law, oversaw Indian relations and appointed administrators. In contrast to his official capacity as the king’s representative, his role was more often interpretative than subordinate. The great distance between America and Spain, as Gibson points out, "tended to increase the viceroy’s authority as it reduced the Council’s" (94). Since he directly controlled the colonies, the viceroy had to modify monarchical policy to fit the circumstances that he encountered or to strengthen his own interests. The phrase "Obedezco pero no cumplo" summarized the attitude that the viceroy displayed toward laws written in Castile to be carried out in America. In time, the laws of the Old World differed significantly from the practices of the New World. As the colonial economy grew stronger, colonists began demanding more control over their own affairs, trading amongst themselves and heeding the crown less and less.

    By the beginning of the seventeenth century, Spain, once called "the self-assured champion (and the exporter) of Christian cultural values, the secular arm of the papacy and the sole guardian of political stability within Europe" (Pagden, Spanish Imperialism 2), now found itself fighting vigorously to maintain its empire in Europe. On the one hand, writers such as Tommaso Campanella, author of Città del sole, saw the only hope for a political system that could ensure a society that was both godly and scientifically rational and provide for the security of Christendom against the Turks as a new universal monarchy.¹¹ On the other, for the rest of Europe, especially England, Venice and Holland, the fear of a universal monarchy seated in Madrid remained a dominant feature of much political speculation (Pagden, Spanish 38). Summarizing the state of European affairs in 1621, Olivares stated in a document to the new king: "Almost all the kings and princes of Europe are jealous of your greatness. You are the main support and defence (sic) of the Catholic religion; for this reason you have renewed the war with the Dutch and with the other enemies of the Church who are their allies; and your principal obligation is to defend yourself and to attack them".¹²

    According to John Lynch, Spaniards never understood why their foreign policy provoked such suspicion and hostility from the other nations since, due to a lack of means to acquire new dominions and fear of encroachment of French sovereignty, it was empty of aggressive content and of expansionist aims (94). The monarchy merely tried to maintain its royal inheritance of a widely diverse population spread throughout Europe. For J. H. Elliott, this tremendous diversity of subjects under the rule of the kings of Spain offered the principal challenge to statecraft in which Mexico was easier to rule than Cataluña (Spain and Its World 60). Hopelessly overextended in Flanders and Italy, besieged by England and France, Philip IV fought desperately to keep open the lines of communication between the crown’s territories and assert Spain’s claim to European hegemony. Financial difficulties, depopulation and adverse economic conditions plagued the country throughout the seventeenth century. Due to these and other reasons, Spain’s position within Europe changed drastically by the end of the century, causing some to speak of the decline or the end of an empire.

    In America, the Spanish Empire had extended so far that the monarchy could no longer govern efficiently. As contemporary thinkers pointed out, empires expanded until they reached an optimum point, beyond which they began to over-reach their capacity both for effective administration and for effective military control (Pagden, Lords 107). In fact, in order to control the situation, the Spanish monarchy passed a decree in 1680 that placed a restriction on all further discoveries until those which it already possessed could be "populated and settled and perpetuated in peace and concord between the two communities [Spaniards and the Indians]" (Pagden, Lords 108). Spain’s encounter with the New World and what it contained came at a point in its history that made its expression of colonialism different from other European nations. Whereas France and England did not find rich mineral wealth and instead turned to agriculture and commerce, Castile "stumbled across the riches of America at an early stage in her history when she did not realize the importance of manufacturing for herself" (Pagden, Lords 73) and did not invest in the future. Placing great importance on a finite supply of precious metals and native peoples, the crown was destined to suffer as these quantities diminished. Rising costs due to inflation and negative public opinion both in the peninsula and abroad cast the whole American enterprise in a negative light, especially in the rival countries where it was seen as morally wrong. For many, the words of Justus Lipsius rang true: "Conquered by you, the New World has conquered you in turn, and has weakened and exhausted your ancient vigour (374)."¹³

Writing About America

    Writing about the New World took on a fictional element from the moment Columbus set pen to paper. The earliest descriptions of America and the incredible feats undertaken in the Indies, some of which would later provide the material for playwrights, shaped a set of representations that distorted New World realities and idealized the nature and meaning of the conquest (Pastor 3). Beatriz Pastor has traced these representations through the writings of Columbus, Hernán Cortés,¹⁴ Álvar Núñez Cabeza de Vaca¹⁵ and Alonso de Ercilla¹⁶ among others. Within the writings of these authors, she identifies the "discourse of mythification" and the "discourse of demythification." Pastor defines the "discourse of mythification" as "a conception of the world and certain representational strategies that lead to the creation and perpetuation of a set of myths and models that can hardly be taken to convey accurately the concrete reality they purport to reveal and describe" while the "discourse of demythification" "question[s] the validity of the myths and models formulated by the former discourse, as they develop a representation of the conquest that gradually demythifies the reality of the New World and the process of conquest itself" (3).

    Specifically within the memoirs of Columbus, she cites as an example of the "discourse of mythification" a method of inquiry that seeks to confirm and identify rather than discover in which the explorer "relied on his own preconceived ideas about new lands as a mechanism for reducing reality, distorting it, and ignoring what was actually there" (20). Since the Admiral of the Ocean Sea based his characterization of the newly encountered lands on past literary accounts of travels to Asia those items with which he came into contact were made to fit existing codes, fictionalized and assigned value based on their position within the system. For that reason, Pastor characterizes the initial relationship between Spain and America as one of conqueror and booty. Although subsequent missions maintained the notion of America as booty and contained references to the marvelous, they gradually began to question the validity of the model created by Columbus by taking inventories of what they found and recognizing the difference between their accounts and those of the Admiral. Still within the "discourse of mythification," Cortés, in contrast, demonstrated great ability during the conquest of Mexico in analyzing the surrounding reality and turning it to his favor. Instead of following previous models, he created an archetype that united both the medieval and renaissance worlds. According to Pastor, Cortés presented the image of a loyal medieval vassal and perfect Christian as well as an outstanding leader who employed a political philosophy that privileged reason and upheld the conviction that the ends justify the means (82). Through his use of the relación, a letter’s whose apparently objective, formal and documentary style seems to impart verisimilitude, but instead constitutes a subjective, fictionalized interpretation of the events it describes, the conqueror of Mexico distorted reality, not to fit previous versions of the encountered lands as did Columbus, but in order to support his claims or glorify his name. Thus, the relaciones omit those events that cast the mission in a negative light and "spin"¹⁷ the remaining incidents to favorably serve Cortés’s political agenda.

    The "discourse of demythification" stems from the narratives that related the failures of American exploration and the inability to find the Fountain of Youth, the Seven Cities of Cibola or El Dorado.¹⁸ Experiences such as Cabeza de Vaca’s shipwreck and trek across the southern United States and northern Mexico highlighted the harsh, unbearable conditions present in the newly encountered lands that no longer retained a fantastic or marvelous hold over the conquistadores. Whereas previous explorers were able to dictate the terms of their relation to the New World, later discoverers found themselves at the mercy of the land, the native people and their own shortcomings as Europeans outside of Europe. For example, Cabeza de Vaca was taken in by a group of natives who ultimately showed him a great amount of compassion and forced him to reinterpret his own ideas about Amerindians. Confronted, as he was, with a complete role reversal, the Spaniard had to reevaluate his previous interpretation of native life and develop a critical foundation that would allow for new understandings. The new critical distance opened the way for more accurate portrayals and eliminated the imaginary structures that had dictated the course of American representation in Spain. Notions of native savagery and European civility found themselves subject to interrogation as reports of Spanish cannibalism and the humanity of Amerindian society made their way back to the metropolis. Furthermore, failures in colonial government, rebellion against the authority of the crown and attention to the rights of the Native Americans contributed to the creation of a new space for American discourse that sought to overturn the equivalence assigned to difference and inferiority (Pastor 213). In contrast to Columbus’s characterization of the natives as primitive and exotic and Cortés’s notion that they were children who needed to be protected, Fray Antonio de Montesinos,¹⁹ Bartolomé de las Casas, Cabeza de Vaca and Ercilla presented the Amerindians, through their preaching and writing, within a "realist" framework that started to reclaim the humanity of the original inhabitants of the New World taken from them on the arrival of Europeans.

America on the Spanish Stage

    The earliest surviving representation of America on the Spanish stage can be found in Micael de Caravajal and Luis Hurtado de Toledo’s Auto de las cortes de la muerte. Printed in Toledo in 1557, the work contains a scene in which several Indian caciques plead their case against Spanish mistreatment before the Court of Death. Although they are thankful for the gift of Christianity, they complain about the cruelty and greed of the conquistadores. Three saints-San Agustín, Santo Domingo and San Francisco-urge the plaintiffs to be patient while the Devil, the Flesh and the World celebrate the freedom of Spanish vice in America summarized in the words the World: "¡Gran cosa es la libertad / Y estar libres de mujeres / Y de hijos, en verdad! / La India gran calidad / Tiene para los placeres" (BAE 35:33). As the dramatic troupe worked its way through the Peninsula in the second half of the sixteenth century, the play’s strong protest message was heard by audiences whose knowledge of Spanish activities in the New World was limited to fantastic tales and dreams of endless wealth. The position of the cacique at the center of the drama shifted their focus away from national interests and onto the moral issues of conquest. Francisco Ruiz Ramón points out that the Court does not make a final judgment in the case, but leaves the final sentencing for the spectators (23). Ultimately, he believes, the work reflected the two sides of the great debate of Valladolid which, if the proof is in publication, Las Casas won with the printing of his Brevísima relación de la destruyción de la Indias.²⁰

    The first comedia to treat America written by a major playwright was Lope de Vega’s El nuevo mundo descubierto por Cristóbal Colón. Staging Columbus’s activities before, during and after his voyage to the New World, the play draws its material primarily from two chroniclers of the discovery, Gonzalo Fernández de Oviedo²¹ and Francisco López de Gómara.²² In his book, Visions of the New World in the Drama of Lope de Vega, Robert Shannon traces these sources throughout the drama and finds that, while Lope borrows directly from each of the chroniclers, he does not follow either in a rigorous fashion and combines events from Columbus’s first and second voyages. Rather than a complete imaginary creation such as the Auto de las cortes de la muerte, El nuevo mundo finds a basis in the historical records of the times, but departs at certain moments in order to heighten the dramatic impact of the work, a technique found in all of the comedias written about America. The playwright’s presentation of the Spaniards focuses on two main themes: religion and wealth. Albeit highlighting the messianic importance of Columbus’s mission, he likewise portrays the negative aspects of the conquest in the sailors’ lust for gold. According to Stephen Gilman, Lope presented the multi-layered motives because he "may have celebrated Spain but he was too good and honest a historian to whitewash it" (112). With respect to the Native Americans, the dramatist attempts to demonstrate a relationship between the Amerindians and the forces of evil (Shannon 69). For the seventeenth-century audience the natives’ interchange with the devil underscored a bond between the "savage" and evil that justified the need for Christianization. Lope’s generalized portrayal of Indian religious practices does little to accurately present the "other," and functions more as a code to elicit a reaction from the Spanish spectators. Likewise, the playwright’s characterization of the cacique Dulcanquellín subverts the authority of the chief by associating him with negative European traits, namely excessive pride and arrogance, thus converting him into "a symbol of tyranny, egotism, and moral and social corruption" (Shannon 91). Shannon concludes that "Lope’s principal purpose in the comedia is not to raise controversy but to demonstrate the need for evangelization and conversion and to show, when possible, the basically good and moral intentions of the conquest and conquerors" (91).

    Another comedia by Lope, El Brasil restituido, demonstrates the mixture of politics and art during the reign of Philip IV. Dated October 23, 1625 on a signed manuscript in the New York Public Library, the play, which commemorates the victory of Spanish and Portuguese naval forces over the Dutch in the Bay of All Saints (Figure 4.36) on April 30, 1625, was performed before the royal family on November 6, 1625. Because the sources for the drama were numerous and the similarities between them great, the task of identifying specific references has proven complicated; however, Lope’s two significant departures from all possible sources shed light on the political implications of the text (Shannon 181). First, the gracioso repeatedly boasts about the Castilian-Portuguese lineage and, second, Philip IV pardons his enemies at the end of the play. Ultimately, art combined with Olivares’s policy to "represent the monarchy as triumphant and victorious over its enemies yet magnanimous and clement toward them and, at the same time, to remind his (Olivares) own detractors at court that the affairs of State were guided by his capable hands" (Shannon 182). Shannon surmises that Olivares directly influenced Lope in the creation of the play and may have provided him the pamphlets and offered him specific instructions for the staging of the union of crowns and the victorious and clement king (182). Interestingly, information not provided in the pamphlets, namely descriptions of America or the natives, must be created by the playwright from his own imagination or from ideas present in Spanish society. In the words of Shannon:

The attire worn by the allegorical figure, "El Brasil," demonstrates, in a primitive way, the dramatist’s conceptualization of the Indians: their use of feathers as a decorative part of their attire, their worship of the sun (suggested by the gold arrow), their bellicose nature (inferred from the arrows), their sensuality (suggested by the feminine personification of the country). This is not to say that Lope believed all Indians dressed and worshipped as the images suggest they do; rather, such a depiction forms a generalized notion of the natives (183).

    This generalized notion of the natives was then used to demonstrate the importance of the evangelistic mission in America and the role that Spain played in eliminating heterodoxy throughout the world. With the combined forces of art, state and religion the hegemonic mission of the Spanish Empire formed a clear ideological message that could be projected across the peninsula and around the globe.

    Tirso de Molina’s contribution to the theme of America in Golden Age Spanish drama, a trilogy made up of Todo es dar en una cosa, Amazonas en las Indias and La lealtad contra la envidia, endeavors to glorify the name of the Pizarro family after it fell into disgrace for nearly one hundred years. As Otis Green points out, the plays depart greatly from "historical" chroniclers and rely more on the work of Fernando Pizarro y Orellana,²³ author of Varones ilustres del Nuevo Mundo, the Pizarro advocate who served as chief counsel in the proceedings to reinstate the title of Marqués to the family. Taking place entirely in Spain, Todo es dar en una cosa presents the youth of Francisco Pizarro²⁴ as told through a serious of fantastic episodes. Green characterizes the drama as "entirely outside the limits of serious history, it is a combination of legend and the poet’s imagination" (204). The third work, La lealtad contra la envidia, follows the exploits of Hernando Pizarro²⁵ first in Spain at a bullfight, then in Peru, defending Cuzco against the forces of Diego de Almagro and the Inca. The final act revolves around Hernando’s argument concerning the injustice of his subsequent and his marriage to his niece Francisca Pizarro. These two comedias, except for the second act of La lealtad, do not take place in the New World and contain little reference to America. However, Amazonas en las Indias does take place entirely in Peru and contains many representations of America. Foremost among the objects portrayed are the Amazons, descendants of the mythical Greek society ruled by women warriors transported to South America, who battle Gonzalo Pizarro²⁶ during his mission to the land of the cinnamon trees. Surprisingly, the women speak Castillian and know the names of the conquistadores. As the play progresses, the action centers around the civil wars between the Pizarros and their enemies, the almagristas.²⁷ Taking liberties with the historical accounts, Tirso projects an image of Gonzalo Pizarro as a noble, just and capable leader who, wronged by his competitors, was executed unfairly. In the end, the drama uses America as a fantastic backdrop for a play about men’s ambition.

    Besides Los españoles en Chile, the conquest of Chile finds representation in Arauco domado (1599) by Lope de Vega, La belígera española (1616) by Ricardo de Turia, Algunas hazañas de las muchas de don García Hurtado de Mendoza, Marqués de Cañete (1622) completed in collaboration with nine authors including Luis Belmonte Bermúdez, Ruiz de Alarcón, Mira de Amescua and Guillén de Castro and El gobernador prudente (1663) by Gaspar de Ávila. The violent clash between Spanish and Amerindian culture proves fertile for dramatists of the Golden Age because of its universal message of freedom. First appearing in La Araucana (1569), the strength and determination of the Araucanians earned the respect of the audience by demonstrating that even against opponents as strong as the Spanish Empire the will for freedom could not be overcome. Ruiz Ramón sees in Arauco domado "una libertad vista por el dramturgo desde el punto de vista del indio, en prodigioso ejercicio intelectual y afectivo de identificación" (63). On the other hand, Shannon believes that Lope reflects Spanish society’s ambivalence towards the status of the Araucanian Indians. In contradictory references, the playwright reveals "that he was not wholly convinced that the American Indians had ever willingly accepted Spanish law" (Shannon 156) and therefore could not be considered vassals yet, on other occasions clearly calls them subjects of the crown. Likewise, A. Robert Lauer demonstrates that each of the plays about the reconquest of Chile needed to portray the savageness of the natives in order to provide a justification of Spanish actions. The frequent name-calling by the Spaniards and the natives themselves and the mention of cruelties committed by the Amerindians painted a barbaric picture that could only be remedied by European intervention. However, these particular comedias also opened a space for a counter discourse that charged the Spanish with tyranny, usurpation and slavery motivated not by religious conviction, but personal greed. What found its way to the Spanish stage, then, was not "una visión clara y única" but rather "dos posturas opuestas en las cuales las acusaciones de crueldad, tiranía y rebelión se pueden aplicar tanto a uno como a otro grupo" (Lauer, "La conquista" 103). The comedia, then, presented a mirror of Spanish society into which the public could gaze and critique the actions of their countrymen in America. What they saw reflected back at them was both positive and negative.

    In conclusion, the body of dramas written in early modern Spain that represent America, like theater itself, maintained an uneasy relationship with its sources, its historical context and its audience. The complex ideas about empire, human nature and culture found expression on the stage through the creations of the playwrights and facilitated an exchange of ideas that, however well articulated, did not always yield one-sided conclusions. Writing mostly from within the "discourse of demythification" the dramatists did not avoid the thorny issues of their day, and, as Shannon describes Lope, "recognizing the epoch-making character of the discovery and conquest of the New World, … struggled with the task of dramatizing significant moments of this Spanish enterprise, however painful, conflictive and troubled the enterprise had been" (157).

Francisco González de Bustos and Los españoles en Chile

Francisco González de Bustos has left little trace on the history of the Spanish stage. Cayetano Alberto de la Barrera y Leirado’s Catálago bibliográfico y biográfico del teatro antiguo español contains the following entry:

GONZALES DE BUSTOS (Don Francisco). Autor de fines del siglo. Publicarónse ya dos comedias suyas en la Parte veinte y dos, año 1665; y un Baile en la Ociosidad entretenida, 1668. Escribió en colaboración con Lanini y Sagredo. Al frente de la Primera parte de las poesías (Cythara de Apolo) de Salazar y Torres, se lee un buen soneto suyo en loor de ellas y del colector editor Vera Tassis y Villarroel. Imprimióse este libro en 1681 y 1694 (177).

He also attributes the following comedias to the playwright: El español Viriato (?), Los españoles en Chile, Santa Olalla de Mérida (1665), El Mosquetero de Flandes (1671), El Fénix de la escritura, el glorioso san Jerónimo (1675) and Santa Rosa de Viterbo (La gran Rosa de Viterbo). Another play, El Aguila de la Iglesia San Agustín (17??),²⁸ can also be attributed to the playwright. The Enciclopedia universal ilustrada europeo-americana provides another clue to the author’s biography, identifying him as "Autor dramático español del siglo XVII, n. en Chile, al que se debe la obra Los españoles en Chile (1665), una de las primeras tentativas coloniales de teatro en Chile" (654). This might suggest that the playwright, born in Chile, wrote Los españoles en Chile because of his first-hand experience and knowledge of the subject matter.

    Of the seven works attributed to González de Bustos, only one, El Fénix de la escritura, el glorioso san Jerónimo (1675), has drawn critical attention. In his discussion of court and corral comedias, N. D. Shergold mentions the play about St. Jerome. Comparing El Fénix de la escritura, el glorioso san Jerónimo to Lanini’s El lucero de Madrid (1676), he notes the similarities in the use of "bastidores"and "discoveries" (379). According to Shergold, these pieces were written for the corral-type stage because they allude to a "primer corredor" and a "segundo corredor" which acted as different levels on the stage. The actors descended from one level to another. When they landed on stage, as in the case of La nueva maravilla de la gracia, Juana de Jesús María (1678) by Lanini, the "bastidores" would "be slid back to ‘discover’ painted flames and cardboard cut-outs representing souls purging their sins" (Shergold 379). Providing another clue in the mystery of González de Bustos, Shergold, addressing the confusion between whether these comedias were written for the court or corral, states:

If these are court plays, they provide further evidence to suggest that the Retiro at least was equipped to provide corral-type facilities; though there seems to be a certain intermingling of the two types of staging, at least as far as vocabulary is concerned. A probable explanation is that some of these texts at least were written for the Retiro in its capacity as a commercial theatre, and that this is why, though basically corral-type plays, they use the Retiro terminology (380).

González de Bustos, therefore, wrote his plays with a particular theater in mind and used specific stage directions when detailing performances at the Buen Retiro.

    As far as performances of Los españoles en Chile, evidence exists to show that the play found its way to the stage in Madrid. According to Ada M. Coe, the play saw at least four productions. In the Catálogo bibliográfico y crítico de las comedias anunciadas en los periódicos de Madrid desde 1661 hasta 1819, she lists the dates and places of the productions along with the newspaper in which the announcement was published "Cruz, 14-16 enero 1788 (Diario); Príncipe, enero 1789 (Mem. Lit.); Príncipe, 12-14 junio 1789; 9-13 mayo 1791 (Diario)" (89-90). Besides the factual information, she includes what might be the earliest critical look at the work. Citing the Memoria Literaria’s review from the January, 1789 performance, she quotes a journalist named Medel who wrote: "Son tantos los episodios que se gastan en enredos amorosos, que más parece hecha para conquistas de Cupido, que de Marte; por lo que la acción queda muy desnuda de interés y de trama... los Indios debían de estar muy instruidos en la Mitología Gentílica, pues se oyen en sus bocas los nombres de Apolo, y de Marte, aplicados al sol y la guerra" (90).

    The most recent critic to approach Los españoles en Chile, A. Robert Lauer in "Caupolicán’s Bath," traces one particular scene throughout the works. According to Lauer, the so-called "bathing" scene of Pedro de Oña’s El arauco domado²⁹ of 1596 in which Caupolicán³⁰ and his wife Fresia share a quiet moment of love before being interrupted by a call to battle the Spaniards, "seems to be used for other than marital purposes in most of the plays of the Golden Age which deal with the conquest and pacification of Chile" (100). In the scene, the Indian warrior, leaving aside his military obligations, indulges in amorous pleasures at a most inappropriate time. Second, his female companion, after several premonitions, expresses her fear that something may be wrong. Dismissing her preoccupation, however, the male tries to calm his mate. Finally, an unusual figure or event intrudes on the idyllic setting and urges the warrior to take arms and defend his people (Lauer 103). Inspired by Horace’s ode "Pastor cum traheret per freta navibus (I.15), Ercilla’s La Araucana and the work of several painters,³¹ this series seems to deliver the message that love and war cannot co-exist (Lauer 107). The manifestation in Bustos’s piece portrays Caupolicán as the classical tragic hero because, after succumbing to Fresia’s beauty and ignoring the advice of the sage, he is led irrevocably to his death, impaled by the Spanish. Interestingly, Lauer concludes by stating that this scene, when present in a comedia, actually ennobles the American Indians, "making them into epic, moral, and tragic characters worthy of being sung by another noble and proud people, the Spaniards. By connecting these Indians to classical topoi, …, the poets succeeded in effect in connecting them to Europe, hence, into the Je and not into an autre, as Todorov would claim" (111).

    Los españoles en Chile appears in a collection of works entitled Parte veinte y dos de comedias nuevas escogidas de los mejores ingenios de España. The edition carries the royal seal and the date of "Año 1665." At the foot of the title page the license to print the book reads, "CON PRIVILEGIO, En Madrid. Por Andres Garcia de la Iglesia. A costa de Juan Martin Merinero, Mercader de Libros. Vendese en su casa en la Puerta del Sol." After the title page, the eloquent dedication written by Juan Merino Martín points to the service and dedication of to Don Francisco de Herrera Enríquez Niño de Guzmán, "a caballero de la Orden de Alcantara, señor de la villa de Alcubillete, gentil-hombre de la boca de su Majestad, y su corregidor de la coronada villa de Madrid," and the esteem in which he was held. Next, the edition contains a page entitled "TITULOS DE LAS COMEDIAS" in which Los españoles en Chile is listed first. Other works include: Elegir al enemigo by D. Agustín de Salazar y Torres (fol. 23), El Arca de Noe by D. Antonio Martínez, D. Pedro Rosete and D. Gerónimo Cáncer (folio not listed), La luna de la Sagra Santa Juana de la Cruz by Francisco Bernardo de Quiros (fol. 62), Lavar sin sangre una ofensa by Román Montero de Espinosa (fol. 82), Los dos monarcas de Europa by Bartolomé de Salazar y Luna (fol. 106), La corte en el valle by Francisco Avellaneda, Juan de Matos Fragoso and Sebastián de Villaviciosa (fol. 124), Amar, y no agradecer by Francisco Salgado (fol. 139), Santa Olalla de Mérida by González de Bustos (fol. 158), Merecer de la fortuna, ensalzamientos dichosos by Diego de Vera and Joseph Ribera (fol. 179), Muchos aciertos de un yerro by Joseph de Figueroa (fol. 196) and Antes que todo es mi amigo by Fernando de Zárate (fol. 217). The following page contains the Suma de privilegio, Fee de erratas and Suma de la tasa. Dated 15 June, 1665, the censura and licencia del vicario were granted by Esteban de Aguilar y Zúñiga and Juan de Ribera Múñoz on the part of Don García de Velasco respectively. The subsequent document, titled "Aprobación del R. P. M. Fray Tomás de Avellaneda, uno de los cuatro maestros de su religión de premonstre, y examinador sinodal deste arzobispado de Toledo," contains a lengthy annotated defense of the comedia and these 12 comedias in particular.

    Consisting of 23 folios, Los españoles en Chile starts on a recto page numbered Fol. 1. Each verso page, erroneously recording the title, is headed with the words Comedia famosa. Los españoles de Chile. The header on the recto folios reads "De Don Francisco González de Bustos" and is numbered correctly from 1 to 23. The play ends with a decorative band before continuing on the same page (Fol. 24v) with Elegir al enemigo. The copy of this edition examined for the present study is in good condition except for some bleeding of ink from the first recto onto the first verso page and occasional smearing and ink spots. The play’s title page begins with the title in capital letters, the author’s name in italics and the dramatis personae in two columns under the title "Personas que hablan en ella." Beginning with "JORNADA PRIMERA," the text of the comedia is in a single column centered on the page. It follows this format for two and a third folios where, on Folio 2 recto, the text breaks into two columns. The two-column layout with about 40 verses per column continues until the end. Each new act starts within the column rather than on a new page.

    Versification within the play is limited to three strophic forms. Romance comprises seventy percent of the total verses. Next, redondillas occupy twenty percent of the total. Finally, silvas round out the remaining ten percent. Polymetry is prevelant among plays of the Spanish Golden Age to signal change in structure, tone, or action (Williamsen 129). The lack of variety in strophic forms, however, is consistent with other comedias of the period. According to established dramatic practices, the reliance on romance reflects the plays emphasis on action. Sentimental passages and words of love are expressed in redondillas. The playwright employs silvas to render heroic call to arms and patriotic discourses. Overall, versification within this play fits within the tradition of later seveteenth century.

    In general, the orthography and punctuation of the princeps edition tend to follow modern Spanish. Exceptions, however, are frequent. For example double s, printed ƒs, replaces the modern single s (aƒsí). The modern letter z is expressed as z (bizarra, luz) at the end of words or after vowels o, u and i whereas ç appears after consonants and frequently after the vowel a (Gonçález, chança, laços, braços). Both instances occur after the vowel e (gentileza, cabeça) and occasionally after a (razón). Z also takes the place of modern c in many cases (Dizen, hazer). X often replaces the modern j in words like dexas and baxos. QU substitutes for cu in quando and qual. Used correctly in most cases, b and v are interchanged in words like alvedrío, bolumen, Buelue and buelo. The confusion between u and v is frequent: viua, siruo, vna, SEGVNDA. Deuen reflects the confusion between b and v and v and u. The initial h does not appear with the words oy, ombro and Orizonte, but otherwise occurs regularly throughout the text. Nouns and adjectives of special import are capitalized (Christianos, Castellanos, Capitán, Monarca Español). Abbreviations (q with a line above for que, nasals deleted and previous vowel printed with a line above) (porque, asiento) are employed only when the verse will not fit in the column. Contraction of the preposition de with words beginning with e is normal (della, dél, deste). The archaism mesmo contributes to the quality of the verse by allowing rhyming with words in the e-o romance form.  The text lacks accent marks except when the accent falls on a final vowel (Vendrè, Pirù). Accent marks that do appear are acute (à) as opposed to the grave accent (á) found in modern Spanish. Interrogatory phrases or sentences do not begin with an inverted question mark.

    In order to provide a more readable text for a wide range of readers, this edition regularizes the orthography found in the princeps edition to represent modern practice whenever it does not interfere with rhyme or scansion. This edition modernizes the use of b, v, u, q, s, x, and h. Puntuation and capitalization match modern usage. Archaic contractions are separated and abbreviations are eliminated. Textual errors, variations and omissions are catalogued in the explanatory notes. The notes provide insight into historical figures and situations, explain orthography and suggest additional readings.

    To comprehend the setting of the play, one must be familiar with the difficult history of Chile. The first Spaniard to venture into Chile, Diego de Almagro³² (Figure 4.37), encountered a rugged landscape, harsh conditions and hostile natives. Already extremely wealthy, he left Peru in a state of civil war at the age of 56 to explore a land he perceived could offer him non-monetary rewards such as fame. Gathering together a group of Spaniards, friendly Indians and Africans, he forged into the uncharted territory (Figure 4.38) in 1536 only to encounter insurmountable obstacles which would force him to return. However, Diego de Almagro holds an important position in the history of Chile for two reasons. First, he is credited with creating an image of Chile that would only attract the most adventurous conquistador: rugged geography and fierce natives. Second, according to Francisco A. Encina, the country owes its name, derived from the corruption of the name of a cacique named Tili who ruled the valley of the Mapocho, to the Spaniard (Almagro) who universalized it. Spanish interest in Chile was successfully aroused.

    Pedro de Valdivia³³ (Figure 4.39) undertook the first colonizing mission (Figure 4.38) to Chile in 1540. With a group of 11 soldiers and a thousand Indians, Valdivia set out from Cuzco to establish a Spanish presence in Chile. After 11 months of difficult travel, the group, now comprised of over one hundred Spaniards, arrived in the valley that would become Santiago. The colonizers established several forts and cities (Figure 4.40) between Santiago and Peru and began to extend their influence to the south into land controlled by the Araucanian Indian tribe. This point of contact would be the site of the longest war in the conquest (1536-1882). Lasting over 300 years, the war of Arauco saw some of the fiercest fighting, the most heroic feats and the most savage cruelties of the colonization.

    The action of the play loosely follows the revolt of the Araucanian Indians against colonizing Spanish during the late 1550s. The uprising began with a surprise attack on the Spanish fort of Tucapel. The Araucanians, under the leadership of Lautaro,³⁴ hid their weapons in hay carts and entered the fort. Although the first attack was repelled, the subsequent attacks completely destroyed the fort and killed all of its occupants, including Pedro de Valdivia. All across Chile, the Spanish went on the defensive against the attacks. On January 9, 1557, Viceroy Don Andrés Hurtado de Mendoza named his son, Don García Hurtado de Mendoza,³⁵ Governor of Chile (Figure 4.41). The new governor moved quickly to control the uprisings and reassert Spanish rule. In the Araucanian camp, Caupolicán continued to lead the revolt.

    The play shares both similarities and anachronisms with this historical period. First, the text mentions the names of several contemporaries during the period: García Hurtado de Mendoza, Caupolicán, Reinoso,³⁶ Ercilla and Aguirre.³⁷ Second, the details of several battles and events correspond. The character of the Marqués relates one such occurrence. He is surprised that the Araucanians have let some of his men move through a perfect ambush and provide relief to the besieged fort, stating:

"Don Diego, lo que me admira,

es ver que los araucanos,

según expertos están

ya en la guerra, viendo cuanto

importa aqueste socorro,

reconociendo su daño,

no hayan salido a impedir

a nuestras tropas el paso" (1463-1470).

    Ricardo Ferrando Keun cites an instance which ocurred on January 20, 1558 where the Araucanians planned such an ambush, permitted Reinoso to move through unharmed and were then engaged in battle and defeated by the Spanish forces (62). Likewise, the text alludes to the incident of Lagunillas made famous in Canto XXII of La Araucana. In the play, several Araucanians return to camp with their hands amputated, shouting for vengeance and inciting their comrades to action. Historically, an Indian by the name of Galvarino experienced a similar atrocity. His arms cut off, begging to be put to death, he runs back to his people and demands revenge. Galvarino became a symbol of the movement and a rallying point against the Spanish (Ferrando Keun 55). Although the numbers differ in the drama and the chronicles, there is evidence that after the victory at Lagunillas García Hurtado de Mendoza had 30 caciques hung from trees in retaliation, among them Galvarino (Ferrando Keun 58). In addition, the play cites several forts that do appear in period maps. Finally, the manner of execution of Caupolicán is the same in the play and in the chronicles. After falling prisoner during a failed surprise attack, Caupolicán was impaled in the plaza of Cañete.

    Los españoles en Chile does take liberties with history. Chronologically, Diego de Almagro was not a contemporary of the characters in the play. Neither Almagro nor his son, Don Diego de Almagro the Younger,³⁸ was in Chile during the late 1550s. Both had been executed in Peru by this time. Second, the dramatis personae lists the character of García Hurtado de Mendoza as the Marqués de Cañete and a barba. At the time, he was neither the Marqués, a position still held by his father, nor an old man. This anachronism can be explained by keeping in mind that the play was written many years after these events at a time when García Hurtado de Mendoza had become both the Marqués de Cañete and old. Rather than an exact replica of one particular moment in the Spanish occupation of Chile, the play serves as a composite of the period mixing in details of the war of Arauco to lend credibility and increase spectator interest.

    Los españoles en Chile begins with the entrance of Caupolicán and Fresia, dressed for war, but speaking of love. As the pair embrace, the mago, Colocolo comes out and interrupts their exchange. The magician has seen the future and it does not hold good fortune for the Araucos if Caupolicán does not spring into action. He wonders, "Cómo vencerá soldado / quien vive de amores tierno?" (vv. 157-8). Out of pride, Caupolicán rejects the wiseman’s words, boasting, "No sabes / que mi nombre está temiendo / el mundo, porque en nombrando / a Caupolicán, el cielo / tiembla, la tierra se encoge, / gime el mar, y con respecto / de oír mi nombre se turban / todos los cuatro elementos?" (vv. 213-18). Next, two of the leader’s men appear with prisoners in tow: Mosquete, the gracioso, and Don Diego de Almagro’s servant, and Don Juan (Diego’s dama, dressed as a man or mujer varonil,³⁹ who has come to Peru to restore her honor). After hearing the tale of their capture, Gualeva, Fresia’s cousin, falls in love with "Don" Juan while Fresia, intrigued by his description, sends Diego a message asking him to meet her. Meanwhile, the Marqués de Cañete fortifies his position as leader of the Spaniards against the imminent Araucanian attack. Crossing into enemy territory, Caupolicán, disguised as a common warrior, warns the intruders that the Indians vastly outnumber them and gives them one day to surrender. The two leaders exchange threats and insults, escalating the conflict to battle. During the fighting, Fresia, captured by the Spaniards, falls under the protection of Diego. When he gives her back her sword, the soldier finds his goodwill reciprocated as she fights against her own people to save him. Juana, as Don Juan, joins the defense, protecting her galán, while burning with jealousy.

    The second act increases the tension between the characters. Juan(a) struggles to understand why Gualeva has fallen in love with her and how Diego, showing signs of attraction for Fresia, has so easily forgotten her. Suddenly to her dismay, Fresia appears and the two rivals talk about their love sickness. Complicating the plot further, Tucapel, an Araucanian warrior who secretly desires Fresia, eavesdrops on the conversation and becomes jealous when he sees her talking to another man (Juana). Overcome with anger, Tucapel confronts the princess. As a ruse, she claims that she sent the message to Diego "para quitarle la vida / con este engaño" (vv. 1324-5). Regrettably, Tucapel promises to bring her the head of her beloved. Meanwhile, Diego shares his feelings for Fresia with Mosquete, as the rest of the Spaniards comment on the battle and the Indian’s prowess. In a show of courage, Tucapel challenges Diego to a duel. The Marqués forbids it, but slips out to meet Tucapel himself. When Diego follows him and the three meet at the dueling spot, a comic exchange of mistaken identity ensues. Finally, the misidentification cleared up, the two rightful duelers take up their swords only to be interrupted by the eruption of another battle. Although the Spaniards win the battle of Santa Fe, Diego and Mosquete fall into the hands of their enemies. The gracioso laments, "Pobre Mosquete, / hoy te ponen en un palo" (vv. 2129-30).

    At the opening of Act Three, Juan(a) reviews the current status of the various characters: Diego in jail, Fresia in love with Diego, Gualeva in love with her. As in Act Two, Rengo, a warrior, eavesdrops on a conversation between Gualeva and Juan(a), jealous of the "man" with whom his beloved speaks. He confronts Gualeva, who suggests, "…el que miras no es hombre / que es una infeliz muger" (vv. 2213-4). Fresia supports her cousin’s claim. After putting on a dress, Juana must listen to Fresia declare her desire to marry Diego, "aunque cristiana me vuelva, / …, prometo / irme con él a su tierra" (vv. 2338-40). As the defeated Araucanian warriors plan their revenge, a soldier brings them two men with their hands cut off and their eyes gouged out of their skulls by the Spaniards. Enraged, Caupolicán calls for battle while Tucapel goes to visit Diego in prison. He relates the atrocities committed by the victors upon the vanquished. Waiting to be set free to meet Tucapel in a duel, Diego receives a visit from Juana, now dressed as an Indian of mestizo heritage, who asks him, on behalf of Fresia, if he is in love. The prisoner denies her love, stating, "en mi tierra / tengo dama, a quien estimo, / y a quien debo obligaciones" (vv. 2783-5). Juana, overjoyed at his response, breaks into tears and exits. Back in the Spanish camp, the Marqués marvels at the Indians number, but pledges, "Chile ha de ser del rey" (vv. 2850). Juana, now dressed as man, returns to the cell and frees Diego. Falling behind, Mosquete encounters Tucapel who misidentifies him as Diego and initiates the duel. Saved by the arrival of Spanish troops, Mosquete watches the capture of Caupolicán. As he is led away to be impaled, Caupolicán exclaims: "¡Ay, Colocolo! / cierta ha salido tu magia; / pues todas estas desdichas / por no creerte me asaltan" (vv. 3072-5). After the Spaniards defeat the Araucanians one by one, trouble enters the Spanish ranks. Upon discovering Juana to be his sister, Pedro, a galán, attempts to cleanse his honor by killing her. Diego defends her and offers his hand in marriage. Finally, blessing the union, the Marqués closes the drama by baptizing and marrying Gualeva and Rengo, Fresia and Tucapel. The curtain falls as they all go off to church.

    Traditionally, critics have considered Los españoles en Chile the weakest of the plays set in Arauco because of its anachronisms, lack of poetic images, shallow character development and limited versification. These judgements, however, summarily dismiss the play rather than illuminate those elements that do merit critical attention. Los españoles en Chile touches on several areas that are currently relevant to comedia scholarship.

    First, the play engages in the consideration of "otherness" as it relates the interaction between Spaniards and non-Spaniards. The Araucanian characters bring to the Spanish stage a representation of a historical people rather than the "real" people themselves. The ways in which these characters are represented on the stage tells more about the playwright and his society’s perception of these "others" than the true nature of those represented. Although the audience may believe that the speech of the Native Americans presented on the stage does accurately reflect their subject position it is, in fact, nothing more than a European construction that further marginalizes the Amerindians. Instead of being authentic recreations, the characters delight the comedia public by providing an exotic setting, easily identifiable villains embodied by Caupolicán and grateful, upstanding citizens of the new order represented by all the other Araucanian characters who marry within Catholic Church at the end of the play. The group marriage and simultaneous induction into Spanish society underscore the homogenizing effect of the comedia. Ultimately, Los españoles en Chile reinforces pro-Spanish propaganda by portraying a "successful" implementation of her policy in the Americas.

    Next, the play explores the nuances of gender. Juana plays the role of a man by changing her clothes, taking up the sword and guarding her honor. She fits the description of Melveena McKendrick’s avenger mujer varonil. Not satisfied with her role as a passive receptacle of male honor, Juana challenges the conventions of the time. Her actions, according to McKendrick, do "not merely usurp[s] the role played by the male in the maintenance of social order," but, in addition, reveal her "to be as sensible of honour as man himself, thereby presenting a direct challenge to the superiority of the male" (261). Writing about Spanish America, McKendrick describes the "blossoming of the female spirit" in an atmosphere where women took on non-traditional roles ranging from the brutally physical to the purely administrative (42). The Araucanian female characters embody these roles. Able to talk of love and beauty, they also fight alongside the men for the preservation of their people. McKendrick believes that the refreshing nature of women like the Araucanians "indicated to dramatists and theatre managers that such characters would have very great audience appeal" (43). As women acting from outside the conventions of Spanish society, both Juana and the native women problematize the definition of male and female, demonstrating that gender is more than just biology.

    In addition, the play questions the idea of honor. Traditionally, only nobles could possess honor. Rather than presenting the indigenous people as savages the text carefully establishes them as individuals who also respect an honor code. For example, Diego feels that Tucapel threatens his honor after challenging him to a duel. The Araucanians duel amongst themselves to guard their honor. Thus, the play suggests that people of nobility whether European or American possess honor and must take action to preserve it.

    Finally, intertextuality and self-consciousness abound within the work. Coming at the end of the flourishing of the genre, this comedia borrows greatly from its antecedents, openly appropriating many stock situations including, among others, mistaken identity, scorned lovers, discourses on the qualities of the beloved, challenges and marriages. At times, the play highlights its own artificiality by referencing other comedias. For example, while describing his master, Mosquete connects his Diego with Agustín Moreto’s lindo don Diego, thus conjuring up an assortment of images for the audience. For readers of this edition, the humor of the scene is enhanced by the inclusion of video clips of El lindo Don Diego portrayed by Francisco Portes at El Chamizal in 1990.

    Ultimately, the play’s merit stands, in the words of Lope, on its ability to entertain the public. For the many audiences that saw its production in the past and those who may see it in the future Los españoles en Chile does not disappoint. For a late twentieth-century audience, the play’s combination of love, action and drama would undoubtedly transcend the years since it has been produced. Perhaps this publication will inspire such a production.

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Notes on Introduction