given to write about “self-evident” and “inalienable” rights. And yet the Spanish crusade of the previous century forces us to reexamine this pervasive narrative. At the very least, its existence suggests that perhaps we’ve drawn too straight a line between the French and American Revolutions, the end of transatlantic slavery, and the rise of human rights around the world. Just as peoples other than Africans suffered from enslavement, so the history of emancipation is more diverse than we generally assume. For the traditional narrative, see Lynn Hunt, Inventing Human Rights: A History (New York: Norton, 2007). Indeed, the antislavery movement of the eighteenth century was remarkably modern in its tactics, including sugar boycotts, lobbying campaigns, and tell-all memoirs. For an example of such a memoir, see Vincent Carretta, Equiano the African: Biography of a Self-Made Man (Athens: University of Georgia Press, 2005). See also Adam Hochschild, Bury the Chains: Prophets and Rebels in the Fight to Free an Empire’s Slaves (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2005).
2. For Philip’s early art education and his collection, see Jonathan Brown, “Philip IV as Patron and Collector,” in Andrés Ubeda de los Cobos, ed., Paintings for the Planet King: Philip IV and the Buen Retiro Palace (Madrid: Museo Nacional del Prado, 2005), 45–62. For a few telling pages on Philip and the theater, see Martín Andrew Sharp Hume, The Court of Philip IV: Spain in Decadence (New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1907), 201–207.
3. I was initially drawn to the life of Philip IV by Joaquín Sánchez de Toca’s Felipe IV y Sor María de Ágreda (Madrid: Tipografía de los Huérfanos, 1887), and the more accessible but no less vicarious treatment by John Langdon-Davis, Carlos: The King Who Would Not Die (Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall, 1962), 35–57. For more serious works, see John Elliott, The Count-Duke of Olivares: The Statesman in an Age of Decline (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1988); Henry Kamen, Spain in the Later Seventeenth Century, 1665–1700 (London: Longman, 1980); and R. A. Stradling, Philip IV and the Government of Spain, 1621–1665 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1988).
4. Philip was especially devoted to a painting titled Nuestra Señora del Milagro (Our Lady of the Miracle), housed in a nearby Franciscan convent. In front of this powerful image, he conducted fervent ceremonies in which he placed his family and the entire empire under the Virgin of Miracles’ protection. The king even had a banner made of silk and gold, displaying the royal coat of arms on one side and her on the other. Eleanor Goodman, “Conspicuous in Her Absence: Mariana of Austria, Juan José of Austria, and the Representation of Her Power,” in Theresa Earenfight, ed., Queenship and Political Power in Medieval and Early Modern Spain (Hampshire,UK: Ashgate, 2005), 170. The quote about taking over the oar is from John Elliott, “Philip IV: A Portrait of a Reign,” in Andrés Ubeda de los Cobos, ed., Paintings for the Planet King: Philip IV and the Buen Retiro Palace (Madrid: Museo Nacional del Prado, 2005), 38. For Philip’s mysticism, see Stephen Haliczer, Between Exaltation and Infamy: Female Mystics in the Golden Age of Spain (New York: Oxford University Press, 2002), 27. The gathering took place in the spring of 1643 in the city of Zaragoza. The most important source for this conclave is Fray Francisco Montaron, “Historia apologetica donde se cuenta el beneficio singular que ha hecho Dios en estos tiempos del año 1643 al rey D. Felipe IV en haverse enviado a muchos siervos suyos con el espiritu profetico desde diversas partes de la christianidad,” cited in Haliczer, Between Exaltation and Infamy, 26. For the correspondence with Sor María, see Carlos Seco Serrano, ed., Cartas de Sor María de Jesús de Ágreda y de Felipe IV, vols. 108 and 109 of Epistolario español: Colección de cartas de españoles ilustres antiguos
2. For Philip’s early art education and his collection, see Jonathan Brown, “Philip IV as Patron and Collector,” in Andrés Ubeda de los Cobos, ed., Paintings for the Planet King: Philip IV and the Buen Retiro Palace (Madrid: Museo Nacional del Prado, 2005), 45–62. For a few telling pages on Philip and the theater, see Martín Andrew Sharp Hume, The Court of Philip IV: Spain in Decadence (New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1907), 201–207.
3. I was initially drawn to the life of Philip IV by Joaquín Sánchez de Toca’s Felipe IV y Sor María de Ágreda (Madrid: Tipografía de los Huérfanos, 1887), and the more accessible but no less vicarious treatment by John Langdon-Davis, Carlos: The King Who Would Not Die (Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall, 1962), 35–57. For more serious works, see John Elliott, The Count-Duke of Olivares: The Statesman in an Age of Decline (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1988); Henry Kamen, Spain in the Later Seventeenth Century, 1665–1700 (London: Longman, 1980); and R. A. Stradling, Philip IV and the Government of Spain, 1621–1665 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1988).
4. Philip was especially devoted to a painting titled Nuestra Señora del Milagro (Our Lady of the Miracle), housed in a nearby Franciscan convent. In front of this powerful image, he conducted fervent ceremonies in which he placed his family and the entire empire under the Virgin of Miracles’ protection. The king even had a banner made of silk and gold, displaying the royal coat of arms on one side and her on the other. Eleanor Goodman, “Conspicuous in Her Absence: Mariana of Austria, Juan José of Austria, and the Representation of Her Power,” in Theresa Earenfight, ed., Queenship and Political Power in Medieval and Early Modern Spain (Hampshire,UK: Ashgate, 2005), 170. The quote about taking over the oar is from John Elliott, “Philip IV: A Portrait of a Reign,” in Andrés Ubeda de los Cobos, ed., Paintings for the Planet King: Philip IV and the Buen Retiro Palace (Madrid: Museo Nacional del Prado, 2005), 38. For Philip’s mysticism, see Stephen Haliczer, Between Exaltation and Infamy: Female Mystics in the Golden Age of Spain (New York: Oxford University Press, 2002), 27. The gathering took place in the spring of 1643 in the city of Zaragoza. The most important source for this conclave is Fray Francisco Montaron, “Historia apologetica donde se cuenta el beneficio singular que ha hecho Dios en estos tiempos del año 1643 al rey D. Felipe IV en haverse enviado a muchos siervos suyos con el espiritu profetico desde diversas partes de la christianidad,” cited in Haliczer, Between Exaltation and Infamy, 26. For the correspondence with Sor María, see Carlos Seco Serrano, ed., Cartas de Sor María de Jesús de Ágreda y de Felipe IV, vols. 108 and 109 of Epistolario español: Colección de cartas de españoles ilustres antiguos
Similar Books
