ABSTRACT Title Dissertation: GOVERNMENT BY CHARITY: THE EMERGENCE OF THE EARLY MODERN HOSPITAL IN THE HISPANIC WORLD Mauricio Restrepo Peña, Doctor of Philosophy, 2025 Dissertation directed by: Doctor Alejandro Cañeque History Department This dissertation examines the emergence of the early modern hospital as an institution in Spain and Spanish America, tracing its development through laws, intellectual debates, reform proposals, case studies, and its adaptation across both the Iberian Peninsula and the New World. While scholarship on poor relief has made valuable contributions, the institutional history of the hospital during this period remains largely overlooked. Existing studies have tended to focus instead on the regulation of mendicancy and vagrancy, the causes of poverty and epidemics, and the projection of modern welfare goals onto early institutions—often portraying them as tools for enforcing social discipline in response to the economic and ideological transformations of the sixteenth century. This study, however, demonstrates that hospitals did not arise from proto- modern economic or medical advancements that emerged in the short term, but rather from canon and civil law, evolving over time in response to enduring political and religious contexts. Originating in monasteries and sustained by private donations, hospitals evolved into autonomous and distinctive institutions under the leadership of the Spanish monarchy and the Church. They played a key role in the territorial expansion of the Iberian kingdoms throughout the Middle Ages and the Early Modern Period. Always endowed in perpetuity, hospitals were often established with specific provisions that defined their purpose as secular spaces where individuals could carry out charitable acts grounded in biblical ordinances. This legal and religious foundation gave them remarkable stability and resilience, along with the flexibility to support the organization of local communities by channeling resources, power, and authority. While the punishment of vagrancy, the regulation of mendicancy, and colonialism spurred legal innovation and intellectual debate, hospitals followed their own trajectories of reform and redefinition, shaped by the ongoing interplay of the monarchy, the Church, and local interests. GOVERNMENT BY CHARITY: THE EMERGENCE OF THE EARLY MODERN HOSPITAL IN THE HISPANIC WORLD by Mauricio Restrepo Peña Dissertation submitted to the Faculty of the Graduate School of the University of Maryland, College Park, in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy 2025 Advisory committee: Doctor Alejandro Cañeque, Chair Doctor Bernard D. Cooperman Doctor Janna Bianchini Doctor Stefano Villani Doctor Eyda M. Merediz @Copyright by Mauricio Restrepo Peña 2025 ii To the hospital chaplains, who still console the sick with their faith, and hold the hands of the dying while whispering the final prayers. iii Acknowledgements I do not remember the first time my mother told me that I had been born in a charity ward of a public hospital. What I do remember is being lifted up by her or by my grandfather so I could drop coins into a donation box to light small candles in the Church of San Martín, located in the La Merced neighborhood of Cali, Colombia—my hometown. Some twenty years later, at the Colegio Mayor del Rosario, my seventeenth-century home college in Bogotá, I was surprised to learn that its founder—a confessor at the court of Philip IV and later Archbishop of Santafé—had once considered establishing a hospital for poor women instead. By the time I became a historian, I visited Madrid and, at the Church of Santa Cruz, was deeply moved to see the same type of donation boxes I remembered from my early years at the altar of the Virgen de los Desamparados (Our Lady of the Forsaken), with a sign that read “El pan de los pobres” (The Bread of the Poor) … And now, here I am, expressing my gratitude to all those who have brought me to this point through a very personal project—one in which so much of my life comes together. First and foremost, I want to thank my advisor, Dr. Alejandro Cañeque, for believing in me and guiding me through to the end of this long project. No one else could have directed my research better than he did. Thanks to his mentorship, I was able to fulfill my dream of becoming a historian of the Early Modern Hispanic World. To the Department of History at the University of Maryland: thank you for accepting me and standing by me throughout all these years as no other institution ever had. I am especially grateful to Dr. Ahmed Karamustafa and Dr. Quincy Mills for their generosity and kind guidance whenever I needed it. To Jodi Hall, our Graduate Coordinator, for always being there and helping iv me solve every problem with a smile. I am also thankful to Lisa, Gail, and Wendy for their daily support, warmth, and friendship. I deeply appreciate the support of my committee members for agreeing to read and evaluate my work—especially Drs. Stefano Villani and Janna Bianchini, who have been generous mentors throughout these years, both as a doctoral student and as a teaching assistant—and, I hope, as a friend as well. I am also grateful to Drs. David Sartorius and Karin Rosenblatt for teaching me about the history of Latin America and for supporting me during the early stages of my research. My gratitude extends to those who lent me a hand with this project—without them, I would not be here. To Dr. Marcela Echeverri, for recommending that I reach out to Dr. Cañeque one afternoon during a conference in my hometown. To Drs. María Antonia Garcés and Laura Garcés, for their generous friendship, which supported and encouraged me from the very beginning, starting with the admissions process for this program. And to Rodrigo Solís, for “our conversations”—without them, I would not have made it through the most difficult moment of my life or been able to continue on this path, which is only now beginning to take shape. I am also indebted to my colleagues and dear friends in Colombia—Carolina Abadía, Hansel Mera, Alejandra Ortega, and Alejandro Orozco—for their personal support throughout these years, even across the distance and isolation of recent times. Especially to Carolina, who opened the door to the religious history of Popayán for many of us. I am likewise grateful to all my colleagues and friends in the program—so many that I cannot name them all—for the laughter and tears we shared during those long afternoons on the third floor. I owe them a great deal, not just as an international student, but for helping me learn so much about this country and its academic world, which is now part of my life. v To my dear friend Radamiro Gaviria, who has been by my side since our early days at our home college—where we became friends, professionals, and historians together—and who has continued to offer his steady encouragement and solidarity as we each navigate our own North American endeavors. To Diego and Darlene Lasso, who have been not only friends for as long as I can remember, but also my family in the United States—and who have supported me in every possible way since I began this program. And to Andrew and Gaby Shelburne, who gave me a home during the difficult years of the pandemic and offered me their friendship, along with that of their wonderful boys. Together, the Lassos and the Shelburnes have made Boston my hometown in this country— a defining city for me, and a constant refuge filled with inspiration and friendship during some of the most meaningful moments of my life. I do not have enough words to express my heartfelt thankfulness to Carolina and Isabel— the loves of my life—for walking with me through the most important stage of my life, and for being by my side through much of this project. Without them, I would not be who I am today. Finally, all my gratitude to Germán, Julia, and Julián—my parents and my brother—to whom I owe everything, and with whom I have never lacked a thing, even on the days I came back with very little… But that is something we will talk about when we are together again. vi Abbreviations AHUSC: Archivo Histórico Universitario: Universidad de Santiago de Compostela AGS: Archivo General de Simancas AHN: Archivo Histórico Nacional de España PARES: Portal de Archivos Españoles AGN: Archivo General de la Nación AGI: Archivo General de Indias AHUC: Archivo Histórico Universidad del Cauca vii Contents Dedication ii Acknowledgements iii Abbreviations vi Contents vii Introduction 1 Chapter 1. Charity in Law: Hospitals in the Castilian Legal Traditions 18 The “New” Poor Laws: 1518-1567 25 The Act of 1540 26 The Recopilación of 1567 30 The Liber Iudiciorum and The Fuero Juzgo 35 Local Fueros 38 The Siete Partidas and the Legal Revolution 42 Roman and Canon Laws 43 The Appearance of Poverty and Vagrancy in Civil Law 45 The Right Way to Donate and Give Alms 48 The Ambiguous Status of Hospitals 51 The Role of Cortes in Defining Hospitals 55 The Emergence of Poverty as a Secular Issue 57 The Banning of Vagrancy 61 Hospitals and Cofradías in the Late Middle Ages 65 Chapter 2. Debating Charity: Domingo de Soto and Juan de Robles, 1545 74 Was the Reform Legitimate? 79 Was the Reform Conveniente? 89 Was the Reform Political? 97 Framing the Debate: Treatises Before and After 107 Juan Luis Vives’ Relief 106 Miguel de Giginta’s Remedy 111 viii Cristóbal Pérez de Herrera’s Care 115 Chapter 3. A Continuous Reform: The Medieval Origins of Early Modern Hospital Reform 121 The Royal Hospital de Santiago 126 The Miracle of O Cebreiro 130 Reconquering Galicia 134 Reforming the Benedictines 136 Establishing a Royal Hospital 140 The Hospital del Rey and the Monasterio de las Huelgas in Burgos 145 The Order of Freyres 153 A Reform Before “The Reform” 157 The Hospital de Santiago’s Regime 160 A Continuous Reform 170 The Beginning of the Reform: Valladolid 171 Philip II and the Last Attempt at Reform 175 The Cases of Salamanca and Seville 176 Chapter 4. Building a Hospital in the New World: Popayán, 1577-1618 187 Popayán in the Empire 193 The City and Governorship 194 The Bishopric 200 The Conquistador and the Papal Brief 203 The Founder 205 Magdalena’s Indulgences 208 Born in Ruins 214 On Endowments and Horses 215 A Hospital Built Together with the Cathedral 222 Remembering the Hospital 233 Chapter 5. The Destruction of a Hospital: Popayan, 1618-1675 243 A Hospital with Multiple Functions 248 Indian and City Parish 248 Baptistry and Cemetery 251 ix The Hospital as School and Seminary 252 Infirmary and Nurses 256 Lodging for Missionaries 263 Ceremonial center 266 The Fury of the Archdeacon 269 The Demolition 271 The Lord of the Mares 275 The Confraternity is Back to Work 279 The Yanaconas’ Bell 281 A Hospital on Trial 282 The Mayordomo vs. the Executor 284 The First Lawsuit 286 The Second Lawsuit 289 The Executor’s Defense 294 The Magdalena’s Disappearance in an Unsolved Case 298 Conclusion 300 Bibliography 312 1 Introduction “Look, Prince, how the Kings ended up, and how they also die like the poor in those hospitals.”1 These words, which Philip II (1556–1598) is said to have spoken on his deathbed to his son and heir, Prince Philip, survive in their complete form only in a sermon delivered in Seville in 1599 by the Mercedarian friar Juan Bernal, in honor of the recently deceased king. There is no other evidence to confirm that the quote was actually spoken, nor is there any indication that the friar invented it. Fray Juan Bernal was one of Philip II’s last confessors, making it plausible that all three—the king, the crown prince, and the friar—were present together at that moment. Although some versions of the quote omit references to the poor and to hospitals, there is no evidence that the newly crowned Philip III ever disputed the sermon’s account. According to a later biography of the friar, Philip III rewarded Fray Juan by appointing him preacher of Andalusia.2 In any case, the fact that Philip II was depicted in a memento mori giving a final lesson to his son while invoking the poor in hospitals underscores the central role of these institutions in Castilian life. 1 “Mirad Príncipe en qué paran los Reyes, y como ellos también mueren como los pobres de essos hospitales.” In “Sermón á las honras que la ciudad de Sevilla hizo a la magestad del rey D. Felipe II nuestro señor,” in Francisco Ariño, Sucesos de Sevilla: de 1592 a 1604 (Sevilla: Rafaél Tarasscó y Lassa, 1873), 550. On the final moments of Philip II see also Antonio Cervera de la Torre, Testimonio auténtico y verdadero de las cosas notables que passaron en la dichosa muerte del rey [...] don Felipe II (Madrid: Luis Sanchez, 1600). 2 Fray Bernando de Vargas, Breve relación de la vida y muerte de Fray Juan Bernal (Nápoles: Juan Jacomo Carlino, 1602), 8-24. 2 The relationship the quote establishes between the most powerful monarch of his time and the humility of those dying in hospitals remains compelling to the modern reader. Philip II died confessing his sins to a friar of a charitable order, lying on a modest bed—humble by the standards of his immense wealth—while gazing toward the altar of the church from a small chamber in the Monastery-Palace of El Escorial. At the opposite end of society, the poor in hospitals often died under strikingly similar conditions: reclining on a straw-filled mattress, receiving the sacraments, and attended by a chaplain and a nurse. The nurse was likely a brother from the Order of Saint John of God, a Bethlehemite, or a Hipólito if in the Americas—though in some cases, it might have been a Mercedarian, like Fray Juan. The sick and dying poor were typically placed in a hall from which they could see the chapel’s altar. Despite the material differences between a royal palace and a humble hospital, the king’s death unfolded in a space and ritual setting not unlike those experienced by the poor in Iberia—and even by Indigenous people across the Americas. If Philip II did speak these words, he may have drawn the dramatic image of the poor dying in their beds from the Hospital Real of Santiago, founded by his ancestors, the Catholic Monarchs, in 1499. This hospital—one of the largest and wealthiest in Europe at the time—included a chamber and an office specifically designed to host the monarchs during their visits to the city, perhaps the closest he ever came to “the poor at those hospitals.”3 If he did not speak these words, then Fray Juan must have been familiar with such a scene, especially as a brother of a charitable order in Seville—a city renowned for its extensive charitable activity, reflected in its numerous hospitals and confraternities. While the Mercedarian Order was not primarily hospital-based, its members were dedicated to collecting alms and to visiting, caring for, and liberating prisoners and 3 Ariño, Sucesos de Sevilla, 550. On the Hospital Real of Santiago de Compostela See El Hospital Real de Santiago de Compostela y la hospitalidad en el Camino de peregrinación, ed. José Manuel García Iglesias (Santiago: Xestion o Plan Xacobeo, 2004); and Andrés A. Rosende Valdés El Grande y Real Hospital de Santiago de Compostela (Santiago de Compostela: Electa, 1999). 3 captives. Either way, by 1598, charitable activity—especially in the form of hospitals—was well regulated and deeply embedded in the institutional fabric of the kingdom on both sides of the Atlantic. From the late eleventh century, during the first phase of the Christian kingdoms’ southward expansion on the Iberian Peninsula, hospitals not only emerged and multiplied in the north along the pilgrimage routes to Santiago de Compostela but also became integral to the institutions that structured life in the newly conquered territories, alongside cathedrals, monasteries, and city councils. Beginning in the twelfth century, the Leonese and Castilian monarchies started sponsoring hospitals, a development that coincided with the proliferation of private shelters and infirmaries, often funded through testamentary donations motivated by the fear of purgatory.4 By the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, it was rare for an Iberian city—including those in the newly conquered territories of the Americas—to have fewer than two or three hospitals, as required by the laws of Castile and the Indies. By the late seventeenth century, Seville alone had seventy hospitals, while Ciudad de México had eleven, reflecting their status as the largest cities on either side of the Atlantic.5 4 On the establishment of Hospitals in the north of the Peninsula during the Late Middle Ages and Early Modern Period see Pablo Abella Villar, “Las enfermerías monásticas: espacios comunitarios de curación en la Plena Edad Media,” in Edad Media: Revista de Historia, vol. 16 (2015): 127-147; José García Oro and María José Portela Silva, “Los hospitales de Galicia durante el Renacimiento: Contexto histórico y perfil institucional,” SEMATA: Ciencias Sociales y Humanidades 15 (2003); Javier Cía y Mercedes Blasco, “Los hospitales de Zaragoza dedicados al cuidado de peregrinos durante los siglos XIII y XV,” Cuadernos de Aragón vol. 27 (2001): 191-206; Luis Martínez García, El Hospital del Rey de Burgos: Un señorío medieval en la expansión y en la crisis (siglos XIII y XIV) (Burgos: Garrido, 1986). 5 For a comprehensive list of hospitals in Mexico City and Seville during this period, see Consuelo Córdoba Flores, “Los hospitales coloniales de la Ciudad de México: a través del proceso de expansión de la urbe,” Un Año de Diseñarte, 1, no. 24 (2022): 56-69; and Juan Ignacio Carmona García, Las redes asistenciales en la Sevilla del Renacimiento (Sevilla: Universidad de Sevilla, 2009), 167-184. For a general overview of the many hospitales established from the late fifteenth century to the late nineteenth century in the Spanish Empire, see Francisco Guerra, El hospital en Hispanoamérica y las Filipinas: 1492-1898 (Madrid: Ministerio de Sanidad y Consumo, 1994). For laws on hospitals in the sixteenth-century legal compilations of the kingdoms of Castile and the Americas, see Recopilación de las Leyes destos Reynos, hecha por mandado de la Magestad Cathólica del Rey don Philippe Segundo nuestro Señor [1567] (Alcalá de Henares: Andrés de Angulo, 1569), v. 1, f. 40v-45; and Recopilación de las leyes de los reinos de las Indias: Mandadas imprimir y publicar por la Majestad Católica del rey Don Carlos II, nuestros señor (Madrid: Julián Paredes, 1681), ff. 13v-20. 4 Why were hospitals so ubiquitous in the life of these societies and yet, to some degree, unnoticed in the sources and overlooked by historiography? The main purpose of my dissertation is to explain the institutional nature and role of hospitals in the early modern Hispanic World. By “nature,” I mean what defines a hospital; by “role,” the functions these institutions served within their communities. I argue that hospitals were not created in response to economic, medical or architectural developments—although historiography has often obscured them through these lenses—but were instead established through canon law. A hospital was, fundamentally, an institutio, a legal endowment created in perpetuity, with a dispositio determining its function as a secular space for Christian charitable activity.6 As institutions with a charitable purpose, hospitals carried both spiritual obligations and rewards: donating to them was a form of penance, offered in exchange for prayers for the donor’s soul. Charitable activity, as taught by Jesus and reinforced in Christian doctrine, was necessary for attaining salvation after the Final Judgment.7 Yet as a non- consecrated space within the material world, a hospital could be established and managed by laypeople. Still, it required a chaplain and episcopal oversight to ensure the proper performance of sacramental duties and the safeguarding of its budget. If the spiritual power protected the “soul” of the hospital—encompassing the souls of donors, charitable individuals, visitors accompanying the sick in search of indulgences, and the poor who confessed and received communion within its walls—then the secular power oversaw its “body”—managing its buildings and resources, and directing its operations, including 6 Sethina Watson, On Hospitals: Welfare, Law, and Christianity in Western Europe, 400-1320 (New York: Oxford University Press, 2020), 252-253. 7 Matt. 25:31-46 (The Revised New Jerusalem Bible: Study Edition): “When the Son of man comes in his glory, escorted by all the angels, then he will take his seat on his throne of glory. All nations will be assembled before him and he will separate people one from another as the shepherd separates sheep from goats. He will place the sheep on his right hand and the goats on his left. Then the King will say to those on his right hand, ‘Come, you whom my Father has blessed, take as your heritage the kingdom prepared for you since the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, needing clothes and you clothed me, sick and you visited me, in prison and you came to see me.’” 5 sheltering pilgrims, caring for the sick, and burying the dead. As Sethina Watson explains, the legal ambiguity of hospitals was rooted in canon law itself: they were non-consecrated institutions that operated in the temporal world while serving spiritual purposes.8 Hospitals were protected by the Church as endowments originating from testamentary donations, yet their day-to-day activities and administration were secular—whether carried out by a religious order or by a lay organization such as a confraternity. I argue that this dual nature not only prevented hospitals from becoming modern institutions but also enabled a unique arrangement in Iberia: hospitals became key instruments of both secular and spiritual authority, most of them under royal patronage, used to govern urban communities on both sides of the Atlantic. The Iberian kingdoms—first on the Peninsula and later in the Americas—made hospitals central institutions for administering their expanding territories. Specialized literature has not only relegated hospitals to a secondary place in the history of the Hispanic World, but has also reduced them to narrowly defined themes such as poverty, medicalization, architecture, and colonialism.9 Hospitals have often been studied as isolated institutions, detached from the complexities of legal, intellectual, and political culture, rather than as fundamental components of the institutional fabric of early modern Iberian societies. Much like 8 Sethina Watson, On Hospitals: Welfare, Law, and Christianity in Western Europe, 400-1320 (New York: Oxford University Press, 2020), 258-260. 9 On the relationship between charity and the transition from the Middle Ages to Modernity in Europe, see Thomas Max Safley, “Introduction” to The Reformation of Charity: The Secular and the Religious in Early Modern Poor Relief, ed. Thomas Max Safley (Boston: Brill, 2003), 1-14; Grell, O. P., A. Cunningham, and J. Arrizabalaga, Health Care and Poor Relief in Counter-Reformation Europe (New York: Routledge, 1999); Bronislaw Geremek, Poverty: A History (Cambridge: Blackwell, 1994); Robert Jutte, Poverty and Deviance in Early Modern Europe (Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1994); and Brian Pullan, (Poverty and Charity: Europe, Italy, Venice, 1400-1700. Aldershot: Variorum, 1994). On the same topic in Spain see Juan Ignacio Carmona García, El sistema de hospitalidad pública en la Sevilla del Antiguo Régimen (Sevilla: Diputación Provincial de Sevilla, 1979); Anne J. Cruz, Discourses of Poverty: Social Reform and the Picaresque Novel in Early Modern Spain (Toronto: Toronto University Press, 1999); Maureen Flynn, Sacred Charity: Confraternities and Social Welfare in Spain, 1400-1700 (London: McMillan, 1989); Linda Martz, Poverty and Welfare in Habsburg Spain: The example of Toledo (New York: Cambridge University Press,1983); Michel Cavillac, “Introducción” to Amparo de pobres by Cristóbal Pérez de Herrera, (Madrid: Espasa-Calpe, 1975), IX-CXCIII. 6 the study of monarchy until recently—when scholars both took for granted that it evolved into a bureaucratic state over the course of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries and focused primarily on the external forces that shaped its actions and eventual transformation toward modernity— hospitals have rarely been examined as institutions in their own right. Instead, they have been treated as consequences of economic and social changes, such as agricultural crisis, population decline, or epidemics, and as instruments of broader processes, including the emergence of social discipline programs and public health initiatives. All of the above has been interpreted as part of the historical processes that began in the sixteenth century, linking hospitals to the rise of poverty within what is often described as the transition from feudalism to capitalism—a turning point marked by urban growth, the development of urban economies, maritime and commercial expansion in both the Mediterranean and the Atlantic, and intellectual movements toward rationalism and secularism.10 For instance Mariano Monge and Cristina Lopez argued that, “[a]s a result of the development of capitalist practices, poverty began to pose a threat to the State. For that reason, the ruling oligarchies were forced to construct a system of healthcare policy that came into conflict with the Church, which had traditionally controlled the hospitals.” Consequently, historiography on the early modern period has identified the 1540s as a pivotal moment in the history of hospitals in the Hispanic World. According to the dominant narrative, this was the point at which, in response to economic and demographic crisis—and in pursuit of modernizing developments already underway in northern Europe—the Spanish monarchy launched a series of reforms aimed at transforming its hospitals into a modern public health system. From this perspective, the process began with legislative 10 For economic history on poverty in early modern Europe, see: Bronislaw Geremek, Poverty: A History (Cambridge: Blackwell, 1994); and Robert Jutte, Poverty and Deviance in Early Modern Europe (Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1994). 7 action in 1540, continued with a theological debate in 1545 on the role of poverty and charity, and culminated in a series of unsuccessful charitable reform proposals during the final decades of the century. More specifically, historiography identifies the reform of poor relief in Castile as beginning with Charles V’s enactment of the so-called Nuevas Leyes de Pobres (New Poor Laws or New Poor Act) in 1540. The dominant narrative holds that these laws aimed at a comprehensive overhaul of poor relief, drawing inspiration from reforms implemented in northern European cities such as Nuremberg, Ypres, and Bruges. According to this interpretation, the reform—shaped by Humanism and the rise of early capitalism—sought to replace medieval values and practices, including the spiritual role of beggars in securing salvation for almsgivers and the function of hospitals as primarily religious institutions. However, evidence suggests that by the early sixteenth century, these laws were part of a well-established legal tradition rooted in notions of charity codified in legislation and ordinances written centuries earlier. This dissertation explores this alternative perspective in detail, offering a revised understanding of the legislative process. If the “new laws” of 1540 were merely a remake of earlier legislation, then what actually changed in Castilian laws on poverty? Without denying the importance of the economic disruptions that took place in sixteenth-century Spain, I contend that these alone do not explain the transformations in poor laws or the evolving meaning of charitable practices during that period. In fact, specialized literature suggests that the Castilian economy up to the 1570s was characterized by general expansion in production, trade, and population.11 I argue that the more significant shift in Castilian legislation was the growing influence of canon law on royal legal frameworks beginning in the twelfth century, which established charitable activity as a shared responsibility 11 See: Yun Casalilla, Bartolomé, “El siglo de la hegemonía castellana (1450-1590), in Historia Económica de España: siglos X-XX, edited by Francisco Comín et al. (Barcelona: Crítica, 2002): 51-84. 8 between spiritual and secular authorities. From that point onward, canon law clarified that hospitals were lay institutions dedicated to pious works, and that charity was an obligation for every Christian in their worldly life. In the late Middle Ages, increasing demands from the cortes (Castilian parliamentary gatherings) to control vagrancy led local authorities not only to punish vagrants but also to take a more active role in overseeing the administration of hospitals and confraternities. Following this logic, the literature has interpreted the 1545 debate between theologians Domingo de Soto and Juan de Robles as a clash between traditional, religious, and feudal concepts that defended poverty, and modernizing ideas aimed at secularizing social discipline to create institutions that transformed vagrants and the poor into productive subjects. However, the books that emerged from this debate—Deliberación en la causa de los legítimos pobres and De la orden que en algunos pueblos de España se ha puesto en la limosna, para remedio de los verdaderos pobres—base their arguments not on modern economic theories, but on biblical principles, the Castilian legal tradition, and the theory of Natural Law. Nevertheless, authors such as José Antonio Maravall and Michel Cavillac laid the foundation for the dominant contemporary interpretation, once again grounded in social and economic frameworks, portraying Soto as the defender of a declining sociopolitical order and Robles as the voice of an emerging capitalist modernity.12 This raises the question of what the two theologians actually meant in their debate. I argue that while Soto and Robles were debating the implementation of a reform already underway in cities like Nuremberg (1522) and Ypres (1525)—as well as in Peninsular cities such as Valladolid (1523), Toledo (1525), and Madrid (1528 and 1534)—their discussion was not a confrontation between medieval and modern ideas. Rather, it focused on the legality and 12 Se Cavillac, “Introduction,” XI-L; and Jose Antonio Maravall, Culture of the Baroque: Analysis of a Historical Structure [1975] (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1986). 9 advisability of these reforms according to ecclesiastical and Castilian law, and whether they contradicted the principles of justice and charity. Moreover, I argue that the contemporary interpretation is mistaken in claiming that these authors were debating all aspects of charity governance in Castile. In fact, their analysis centered on a specific policy: the expulsion of foreigners, the prohibition of beggars traveling between provinces, and the centralization of almsgiving within each city—a measure that ultimately proved short-lived. What did endure, however, was Soto’s recommendation to the king to allow individuals to beg and request alms freely, while also centralizing charitable activities in local hospitals. As a result of interpreting the ideological debate through social and economic models, the works of Soto and Robles have been framed within an intellectual context that also encompassed earlier and later writings surrounding the year 1545. The proposals of Juan Luis Vives (1525), Miguel Giginta (1573), and Cristóbal Pérez de Herrera (1598), among others, have similarly been understood as comprehensive reform plans for charity in Castile—particularly in relation to hospitals—with the aim of transforming them into centers of social discipline. However, a close analysis of their writings reveals that these proposals were in fact focused on the creation and management of shelters for beggars: institutions that did not yet exist and that these authors were advocating to establish. Moreover, their texts show that by the late sixteenth century, efforts to centralize the management of mendicancy under secular authority were still ongoing. Because legislative acts and legal compilations in this period were not specialized but addressed multiple topics simultaneously—and because the debate between Soto and Robles, along with the proposals of other authors, focused on measures against mendicancy, the centralization of almsgiving, and the creation of new shelters—hospitals are not prominently visible in the primary sources. This has also led much of the literature to concentrate primarily on 10 issues of vagrancy and begging, as noted earlier. Nevertheless, several specialized studies have contributed to the examination of hospital reform in early modern Castile. In general, this reform has been understood as the consolidation of several hospitals into one or a few, depending on the size of the city, and as an early step toward medical specialization, with wards—or entire hospitals—dedicated to the treatment of contagious diseases, women, syphilis, leprosy, and other conditions.13 Given that these studies operate within the same interpretative framework of legal reform and ideological debate, most have argued that hospital reform stemmed from the laws of 1540 and the theological debate of 1545. Others, focusing on the medieval period, contend that reform began under the Catholic Monarchs in the late fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries—or even earlier, with the arrival of the Cluniac and Cistercian orders on the peninsula in the eleventh century. This raises the question: was there one reform, or several? As with the laws and the debate, the so-called hospital reform was rooted in adherence to precedent. Similarly, what occurred in the 1540s brought little actual change to hospitals, beyond renewed emphasis by legislators and authorities on enforcing laws and practices that had long been in place. My study demonstrates that, rather than a single reform or a series of discrete reforms, this period marked the emergence of the early modern Hispanic hospital. This development was not driven by short-term experiments—such as the centralization of almsgiving or the banning of public begging—nor by the process of medicalization. Instead, the emergence of the early modern hospital was the outcome of a centuries-long process: the consolidation (reducción) of budgets and 13 C. Vaquero et al., “Hospital General de la Resurrección de Valladolid,” Revista Española de Investigaciones Quirúrgicas 4, vol. XXIII (2020): 179–83; Mercedes García, et al., “La locura en el hospital de los inocentes de Sevilla (1436–1840),” EduPsykhé: Revista de Psicología y Educación 13, no. 1 (2014): 5–12; Carmona García, Las redes asistenciales en la Sevilla del Renacimiento; A. Andrés Rosende Valdés, El Grande y Real Hospital de Santiago de Compostela (Santiago de Compostela: Electa, 1999); and Baudilio Barreiro Mallón and Ofelia Rey Castelao, Pobres, peregrinos y enfermos: La red de asistencia gallega en el Antiguo Régimen (Santiago de Compostela: Nigra, 1998). 11 institutions into a single entity, all under the patronage of the monarchy. This process began in the twelfth century, when the kings of Castile founded monasteries with hospitals in northern Spain, merging endowments and donations while following the Cistercian model of separating spiritual (consecrated and cloistered) spaces from secular (non-consecrated and open) ones within monastic complexes. Building on this foundation, the Catholic Monarchs sought to bring monasteries and hospitals under their patronage in order to “discipline” them in observance and dedication. The most significant initiative in this process was the foundation of the Hospital of Santiago de Compostela in 1499, which I will demonstrate to be the most representative institution in terms of both institutional independence and commitment to charitable care. In the Americas, hospitals have been studied even less extensively than those on the Iberian Peninsula. In the New World, Indigenous towns were mandated to establish their own hospitals, while in other urban centers, these institutions were expected to serve both Spaniards and Indigenous people. In recent years, some valuable contributions have been made to the study of Indigenous hospitals and confraternities, as well as specialized institutions such as shelters for beggars and psychiatric hospitals.14 However, most of these works focus on the late eighteenth century, interpreting Bourbon reforms as a failed attempt to transform religious institutions into true centers of health and social discipline—essentially suggesting a reproduction of what is assumed to have occurred in the Peninsula two centuries earlier. Moreover, hospital studies have largely concentrated on major institutions in the empire’s capital cities, such as Lima and Mexico 14 Christina Ramos, Bedlam in the New World, A Mexican Madhouse in the Age of Enlightenment (Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 2022); Gabriela Ramos, El cuerpo en palabras: Estudios sobre religión, salud y humanidad en los Andes coloniales (Lima: Instituto Francés de Estudios Andinos, 2020); Laura Dierksmeier, Charity for and by the Poor: Franciscan–Indigenous Confraternities in Mexico, 1527–1700 (University of Oklahoma Press: Norman and The Academy of American Franciscan History: San Diego, 2020); and Silvia M. Arrom, Containing the Poor: The Mexico City Poor House, 1774-1871 (Durham: Duke University Press, 2001). 12 City. Although many of these hospitals were founded in the sixteenth or seventeenth century, they are typically examined in later periods, when they were managed by specialized religious orders such as the Order of Saint John of God or the Bethlehemites. The earliest hospitals—established through donations and managed by local authorities or confraternities—remain largely unexamined. This approach has led to a misunderstanding of the institutional nature and role of hospitals in Spanish America. By focusing on these institutions in the eighteenth century as instruments of modernizing projects, hospitals have been interpreted as tools of a specific colonial agenda. Furthermore, it has been assumed that what occurred in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries was merely a failed precursor unworthy of deeper study. Even more, Gabriela Ramos explains the difficulties of studying early hospitals in a city like Lima: “[l]eaving aside the disappearance of some papers and the classification of certain documents in unexpected places, the picture that the archives offer to the historian represents the tangle of interests involved, their [hospital’s] precarious administration, the jurisdictional conflicts, and the different approaches to the idea of a hospital that existed in colonial Peru.”15 On the contrary, I contend that examining American hospitals at the moment of their inception reveals their complex nature and the multiple purposes they served more clearly—precisely when the monarchical regime was being implemented, and cities, institutions, and sources of authority were being developed in the New World. On the contrary, studying the first municipal hospitals provides a clearer perspective on how institutions functioned during the colonial period and how the various communities inhabiting a city interacted with them. My overarching argument is that, while hospitals were constrained by the legal and religious obligations mentioned above, their dual nature—straddling the secular and 15 Ramos, El cuerpo en palabras, 32. 13 the spiritual—allowed them to adapt effectively to the New World, much as they had on the Peninsula. However, unlike in the Peninsula, where “particular” patronages over spiritual institutions often complicated matters, in the Americas the universal patronage of the king over the Church clarified the relationship between hospitals and the monarchy. For this reason, hospitals became fundamental institutions in the construction of the first American cities, alongside the cabildo (city council) and the parish. Hospitals were able to integrate more easily—though not without conflict—with civil and ecclesiastical authorities, Indigenous communities, and local elites. Government by Charity I title my dissertation Government by Charity because hospitals were not passive instruments to be shaped at will by authorities, economic forces, or ideological shifts. Although they emerged from legal frameworks, hospitals were grounded in religious and legal obligations that made them difficult to alter or dismantle. These obligations were rooted not only in biblical mandates—essential for the salvation of the soul—but also in the enduring responsibility of both ecclesiastical and secular powers to protect these institutions and manage their finances in perpetuity. Indeed, these obligations shaped reform efforts, theological and political debates, and the founding of hospitals and confraternities on both sides of the Atlantic. Charity, in this context, became the dominant principle governing these institutions. Highly regulated yet remarkably stable and resilient, hospitals became essential tools for sustaining political power and organizing urban populations. As endowments and sources of income, as well as spaces for practicing religious obligations “in the world,” hospitals served as points of convergence for monarchical, ecclesiastical, and local powers—including municipalities, 14 religious institutions, and confraternities, among others. Hospitals also legitimized authority by demonstrating the commitment of elite donors to both God and the kingdom. Additionally, charity functioned as a mechanism of governance by organizing the collection of donations and other income, while providing the community with a space to fulfill their spiritual duties. In essence, Government by Charity encapsulates the idea that charity, as manifested through hospitals, was central to governance—blending care, control, and moral obligation in ways that profoundly shaped society and its institutions. Chapters Outline In the first chapter, I demonstrate that the laws of 1540 were a compilation of pre-existing legislation aimed at reinforcing mandates repeatedly requested in the cortes but often left unenforced. I also explain that the 1540 laws did not represent a definitive resolution of the matter, as Philip II issued a new compilation in 1565. By exploring legal precedent, I clarify that issues of poverty and hospitals only gained legal visibility with the incorporation of canon law into civil legislation. Additionally, I show that civil law consistently included both the punishment of vagrants and the protection of the destitute in court as expressions of charity. I argue that poverty and charity belonged to the spiritual sphere, while vagrancy was treated within the civil domain. Finally, I demonstrate that from the late thirteenth to the early sixteenth century, the cortes sought to remove non-charitable brotherhoods and confraternities from hospital management. I support this analysis through a close reading of Spanish legal sources, including the Liber Iudiciorum, local fueros, Las Siete Partidas, and ordinances issued by the cortes. In the second chapter, I begin by analyzing the debate between Domingo de Soto and Juan de Robles on its own terms—something that has not been done before. By following what the 15 authors themselves state and the sources they use—biblical references, theological arguments, and legal frameworks—I demonstrate that the debate centered on three key issues: the legitimacy of the reform, the advisability of the reform, and its political implications, particularly its impact on communal order. I emphasize that the debate did not concern a comprehensive reform of charity or poverty in general, but rather a specific policy that some cities had begun to implement and that the monarchy later mandated by law: expelling vagrants to their provinces of origin, prohibiting beggars from soliciting alms outside their jurisdictions, and centralizing the collection and distribution of alms at the local level. Finally, I analyze other treatises that have been associated with this debate but are only loosely connected to it. I show that these works were, in fact, proposals for the creation of shelters for beggars, and that their main argument was that it was the secular power that should take control of poor relief and reform. In the third chapter, I explore the topic of hospital reform to demonstrate that the reduction of hospitals and the first attempt at institutional specialization did not originate in the sixteenth century, but rather through a long process that began in the late twelfth century. Following the legal-precedent analysis, I trace the trajectory of hospital foundations and consolidations, focusing on examples such as the Hospital del Rey in Burgos and the Hospital Real in Santiago de Compostela. Through these cases, I argue that this process did not constitute a single reform or a series of discrete reforms, but rather marked the formation of the early modern hospital: an institution independent of monastic orders, sponsored by the monarchy, overseen by the Church, and designed to accommodate all forms of charitable activity, including care for the sick, shelter for pilgrims, housing for orphans, burying the dead and the collection of alms, among others. Additionally, I show that this model—defined by the Catholic Monarchs—shaped the reorganization of hospitals in major Castilian cities throughout the remainder of the sixteenth 16 century. However, rather than representing the development of a modern health system, this reorganization primarily served to subordinate private institutions to the control and supervision of civil and ecclesiastical authorities. In the final two chapters, my study moves across the Atlantic to explore how hospitals were established and the roles they fulfilled in the New World. For this, I focus on an unusual example: The Hospital of Santa María Magdalena, founded in the city of Popayán in 1577, in what is now southwestern Colombia. This hospital had a short existence, as it was demolished and ceased to function in 1628. Due to its dramatic demise, the cathedral chapter of Popayán launched an exhaustive investigation, compiling all available documents related to the hospital’s foundation, construction, and financing, as well as the debates surrounding its destruction and proposed reconstruction, which continued through the end of the seventeenth century. Most importantly, the investigators interviewed around sixty individuals, ranging from the city’s most humble Indigenous inhabitants to its most powerful officials. This unique and previously unknown dossier, which I unearthed in the city’s archbishopric archives, allows me not only to reconstruct the history of a hospital previously known only through fragmentary and confusing traces, but also to hear the voices of the city’s inhabitants. Through their testimony, I examine how they understood the concept of a hospital and how they described its role in their community. The fourth chapter examines the foundation, construction, and operation of the Magdalena Hospital. Through an in-depth analysis of archival records, I reconstruct the history of this institution. By tracing its foundation and construction, I demonstrate how municipal hospitals like this one became essential institutions for the formation of new communities, as mandated by the Laws of the Indies. Furthermore, I argue that these early municipal hospitals were neither mere imperial impositions nor simple adaptations intended to dominate colonial populations. On the 17 contrary, I show that these hospitals did not arrive in the Americas as fully formed institutions, ready to exercise their authority. Instead, the Magdalena Hospital relied on Castilian legal traditions and practices to establish itself, navigating jurisdictional conflicts between temporal and spiritual authorities—much like those encountered in the Iberian Peninsula. More importantly, the construction and operation of hospitals required the collaboration of multiple actors and resources within the city, specially the indigenous communities. In the fifth and final chapter, I examine the role the hospital played in the city, the process of its destruction, and the lawsuit against the individual held responsible for its plundering. Based on the testimonies of those interviewed, I demonstrate that the hospital not only fulfilled various Christian practices mandated by canon law but also served as a space that contributed to the development of other institutions, including the doctrinal chapel, the seminary, and the Holy Week religious processions. This allows me to argue that the role of the first hospitals in the Americas was fundamental to the construction of urban communities. Moreover, the process of the hospital’s destruction and the subsequent lawsuit emphasize that it was not an institution imposed by an external power, but one in which multiple groups were actively involved. These groups were directly affected by its loss and, in one way or another, sought to rebuild it or transfer its functions to other institutions. 18 1 __________________ Charity in Law: Hospitals in the Castilian Legal Tradition The story always begins with the catastrophic droughts and the mass displacement of peasants across the Peninsula during the 1520s. These crises prompted King Charles V to enact the so-called “Poor Act” or “New Poor Laws” of 1540, a modernizing effort inspired by advanced European cities such as Nuremberg and Ypres. As Mitchell Cavillac argues, these new laws were driven by “the poor issue” of the time rather than adherence to legal precedent.1 Similarly, Linda Martz asserts that the laws emerged from pressing social conditions rather than existing legal and institutional practices. She explains, “neither the petitions of the Castilian Cortes [parliamentary gatherings] nor the predispositions of Cardinal Tavera [his numerous charitable activities] were the direct cause of the Castilian Poor Laws, but rather the drought of 1539 which led to a disastrous harvest throughout Castile.”2 Although “tardy” compared to the initiatives introduced by the mentioned cities in 1522, Maureen Flynn considers the 1540 Act transformative, marking “a new approach to local poor relief.”3 Yet, despite this legal initiative, historiography has consistently 1 Michel Cavillac, “Introducción” to Amparo de pobres by Cristóbal Pérez de Herrera, (Madrid: Espasa-Calpe, 1975), LXXX-LXXXII. 2 Linda Martz, Poverty and Welfare in Habsburg Spain: The example of Toledo (New York: Cambridge University Press,1983), 16. Cortes were parliamentary assemblies composed of representatives or deputies of the church, the nobility, and certain cities. I will discuss this further later in this Chapter (see pages 67-69). 3 Maureen Flynn, Sacred Charity: Confraternities and Social Welfare in Spain, 1400-1700 (London: McMillan, 1989), 88. 19 judged the implementation of these laws in Spain as an enduring failure, primarily due to opposition from the Church and other Spanish traditionalist forces… And so, this is how the story continues to be told to this day.4 By focusing on the economic causes of poverty to explain changes in charity legislation in sixteenth-century Spain, historiography has both misunderstood one point and overlooked another. First, it has misinterpreted the legislative framework, which reflects continuity rather than innovation. Second, it has neglected the study of charitable institutions by conflating charity with issues of vagrancy. This approach has obscured the real transformation: the emergence within legislation of the early modern hospital as a charitable institution in Iberia. In this chapter, I argue that the so-called “Poor Laws” issued by Charles V in 1540 did not represent a major disruption in Castilian legislation. Contrary to the claims of dominant historiography, these widely cited laws were largely reenactments and reissues of earlier medieval legislation. When compared to secular and ecclesiastical laws from the late medieval period, these “new laws” neither transformed the meanings of poverty, charity, or vagrancy nor introduced any novel understanding of these issues. The transformation in the role and purpose of hospitals did not occur abruptly in 1540 but developed gradually, beginning in the Late Medieval period. Castilian legal tradition clearly 4 On how the sixteenth-century Castilian Poor Laws are considered a turning point for the treatment of poverty and charity, see Anne J. Cruz, Discourses of Poverty: Social Reform and the Picaresque Novel in Early Modern Spain (Toronto: Toronto University Press, 1999), 35-54; Flynn, Sacred Charity, 88-94; Martz, Poverty and Welfare, 14- 34; Cavillac, “Introducción,” LXXIX-XC. For specialized literature in Spanish, see Javier López de Goicochea Zabala, “De subventione pauperum: Los tratados de la pobreza en los orígenes del Estado moderno,” Saberes 1 (2003): 1-26; Cossimo Perrota, “La disputa sobre los pobres en los siglos XVI y XVII: España entre desarrollo y regresión,” Cuadernos de CC.EE. y EE 37 (2000): 95-120; Cristina López de Osuna, and Mariano Monge Suárez, “Miseria de la economía. La controversia sobre la asistencia social y hospitalaria en el siglo XVI”, La Cultura de los Cuidados II, no. 3 (primer semestre de 1998): 30-40; Miryan Carreño Rivero, “Pobres vagabundas en el Proyecto de recogimiento de pobres y reforma social de Cristóbal Pérez de Herrera,” Revista Complutense de Educación 8, no. 1 (1997): 19-42; Juan Manuel Santana Pérez, “Sobre el encierro de los pobres en los tiempos modernos,” Espacio, tiempo y forma. Serie IV Historia Moderna 9 (1996): 339-357; Ángel Rodríguez Sánchez, “Pobreza y marginación social en la España moderna,” Norba 2 (1981): 233-244; Francisco Álvarez de Uría, “De la policía de la pobreza a las cárceles del alma,” El Basilisco 8 (julio-diciembre, 1979): 64-71. 20 distinguishes between vagrancy and charity, which were governed by separate legal domains— vagrancy associated with secular crimes such as theft and wandering, and charity rooted in spiritual obligations regulated by ecclesiastical law. For legislators, the central challenge regarding hospitals was not controlling vagrants but ensuring these institutions’ charitable autonomy and long-term sustainability. This required first establishing the legal status of hospitals and then shielding them from interference by brotherhoods and other groups seeking to use them for non- charitable aims. However, this was a lengthy process involving ongoing legislative activity, reliance on precedent, and attention to the needs of hospitals as articulated by authorities and legislators. Medieval and Early Modern laws did not simply evolve in response to economic crises, nor were they mere tools for enforcing the will of rulers. Instead, they embodied a complex ideology to which authorities themselves were bound. As Alan Harding explains, “law” was understood as the forum of the entire political regime, governing both the administration and organization of the community.5 Even from a narrowly defined legal perspective, “law” was far more than a collection of written commands. Harold J. Berman emphasizes that law “involves legal institutions and procedures, legal values, and legal concepts and ways of thought, as well as legal rules.”6 Thus, studying a legal transformation, such as that of mid-sixteenth-century Castile, requires a deeper analysis than surface-level changes. Spanish legal historian Aniceto Masferrer highlights the importance of examining the hierarchical structure of legal sources (both local and general), the law-making institutions (king, Church, and Cortes), and “the role of legal precedent 5 Alan Harding, Medieval law and the Foundations of the State (New York: Oxford University Press, 2002), 1-5. 6 Berman, Harold J., Law and Revolution: The Formation of the Western Legal Tradition (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1983), 4. 21 in developing law and legal science.”7 The Castilian legal tradition was among the richest in Europe, with its pluralism extending far beyond the simple divisions between common and local laws or between secular and ecclesiastical jurisdictions.8 To assume that the “Poor Laws” of 1540 represented a sharp break with the past or that charity and vagrancy occupied the same legal sphere is to oversimplify a much more nuanced reality. Consider, for instance, the laws on vagrancy, regarded as a pivotal moment in the evolution of sixteenth-century poor laws. The preface to the Act of 1540 identifies the issues posed by vagrancy as follows: Great harm comes to our kingdoms from being filled with many vagabonds and idlers who could work and live by their own effort but do not do so; they live only off the sweat of others, without working or deserving it; moreover, they set a bad example for others who see them living such a life; as a result, they stop working and turn to the same way of life; and because of this, farmers cannot be found, and many estates remain untilled and come to be diminished.9 According to this law, vagrancy undermined both the morality and productivity of the kingdom, setting a bad example for society while also diminishing the available workforce. However, this idea was far from new, as acknowledged in the law’s preamble. The grievances it enumerates closely mirror those outlined in the ordinance issued by King Juan I during the Cortes of Briviesca in 1387: 7 Aniceto Masferrer, “Plurality of Laws, Legal Traditions, and Codification in Spain,” Journal of Civil Law Studies 4, no. 1 (May 2011): 426. 8 E. N. Van Kleffens, Hispanic Law Until the End of the Middle Ages (Edinburgh, 1968), and J. O’Callaghan, History of Medieval Spain (Cornell University Press, 1975). 9 “Gran daño viene a los nuestros reynos por ser en ellos governados muchos vagabundos y holgazanes que podrían trabajar y vivir de su afán y no lo hazen; los quales no tan solamente biven de sudor de otros sin lo trabajar y merecer; mas aún dan mal exemplo a otros que los ven hazer aquella vida; por lo qual dexan de trabajar y tornánse a la vida dellos; y por esto no se pueden hallar labradores y fincan muchas heredades por labrar y viénense a mermar.” In Quaderno de algunas leyes, f. 19. All translations are mine except when indicated otherwise. 22 Great harm comes to our kingdoms from permitting and directing many vagabonds and idlers who could work and live by their own effort but do not do so; who not only live off the sweat of others, without working for or deserving it, but furthermore set a bad example for others who see them living such a life, as a result of which they stop working and turn to that same way of life, and consequently farmers cannot be found, and many estates remain untilled and come to be diminished.10 Despite the significant historical differences between the fourteenth and sixteenth centuries, the ideas and language surrounding laws on vagrancy remained unchanged. Few historians acknowledge the influence of medieval ordinances on early modern Castilian legislation. Martz, for instance, argues that these laws served merely as distant antecedents to the Act of 1540. According to her, “there was a sudden leap to the modern sixteenth-century legislation, [...]”.11 While Juan I’s ordinances undoubtedly shaped subsequent laws, they were neither the first nor the oldest on the subject. More than three decades earlier, King Pedro I had issued a detailed ordinance on the same matter at the Cortes of Valladolid in 1351. He declared that: First, I approve and order that no men or women who are able and suited for labor should be idle within my lordship, nor should they be begging or asking for alms; rather, all should work and live by the labor of their hands, except for those who 10 “Grand danno viene alos nuestros rregnos por ser en ellos consentidos e governados muchos vagabundos e folgazanes que podrian trabaiar e bevir de su afán e non lo fazen; los quales non tan sola mente biuen del sudor de otros ssyn lo trabaiar e merescer, mas avn dan mal enssyenplo alos otros queles veen fazer aquella vida, por lo qual dexan de trabaiar e tornan sse ala vida dellos, e por ende non sse pueden fallar labradores e fincan muchas heredades por labrar e vienen sse a hermar.” In Cortes de los Antiguos Reinos de León y Castilla, vol. 2, (Madrid: M. Rivadeneyra, 1863) 370-371. 11 Martz, Poverty and Welfare, 19. 23 have such illnesses and injuries or such great old age that they cannot do so, nor boys and girls under twelve years of age.12 However, the legal precedent prohibiting vagrancy does not originate with the ordinances of the fourteenth century. A century earlier, the Siete Partidas—the renowned legal compilation commissioned by King Alfonso X and written between the 1260s and 1270s—condemned vagabonds as enemies of the people for harming the realm. Law IV (Partida II, Title XX) declared: “For this reason the ancient sages, who made the laws, ordained that men of this kind, who are called, in Latin, mendicates validi, and in the Castilian language, baldíos, who are of no benefit whatever to the country, should not only be banished from it, but also where they are sound in limb and ask alms in God’s name, it must not be given them, in order that they may be compelled to act properly, and live by their labors.”13 In all four examples, the prescribed punishments for vagrants—forced labor, corporal punishment, or expulsion—remained consistent until the definitive legal compilation of Castilian law in 1567, ordered by King Philip II, which remained unchanged until the late eighteenth century.14 Vagrancy was consistently treated as a significant criminal issue, perceived as a cause 12 “Primera mentre tengo por bien et mando que ningunos omes nin mugeres, que ssean et pertenescan para labrar, non anden baldíos por el mío ssennorio, nin pediendo nin mendigando; mas que todos lavren et viuan por lavor dessus manos, ssalvo aquellos et aquellas que ovíeren tales enfermedades et líssiones o tan grand vejez quelo non puedan ffazer, et moças et moços menores de edat de doze annos.” In Cortes de los Antiguos Reinos de León y Castilla, vol. 1, (Madrid: M. Rivadeneyra, 1861), 76. See also Jesús de la Iglesia García, “El debate sobre el tratamiento a los pobres durante el siglo XVI,” in La Iglesia española y las instituciones de caridad, edited by Francisco Javier Campos y Fernández de Sevilla (San Lorenzo del Escorial: Ediciones Escurialenses, 2006): 5-30. 13 Las Siete Partidas, ed. Robert I. Burnes, S.J., and transl. Samuel Parsons Scott, vol. II (Philadelphia: University of Philadelphia Press, 2001), 413. 14 Recopilación de las Leyes destos Reynos, hecha por mandado de la Magestad Cathólica del Rey don Philippe Segundo nuestro Señor [1567] (Alcalá de Henares: Juan Íñiguez de Liquerica, 1598), Lib. I, Tit. XVII, Leyes vi-ix, ff. 43-32v; Quaderno de algunas leyes, f. 19; Cortes de los Antiguos Reinos, vol. 1, 19-20; Las Siete Partidas, vol. I, 413. For comparison see Novisima recopilación de los reinos de España, mandada formar por el señor Carlos IV. 24 of both economic and moral decline in the kingdom, and addressed in nearly identical ways by lawmakers and officials for centuries. Moreover, substantial evidence shows that medieval legal precedents—dating back at least to the twelfth century—shaped the definitions, problems, and solutions regarding not only the punishment of idleness but also the concepts of poverty and charity in early modern Castilian law. Hospitals were not traditionally linked to vagrancy. As institutions dedicated to fulfilling broad charitable obligations, they were legally distinct from the complaints and punishments directed at vagrants. Nevertheless, they became associated with vagrancy by default, as they provided relief to the destitute. Since the thirteenth century, Castilian legal tradition had increasingly sought to ensure that hospitals served only the truly poor and sick. By 1567, Philip II’s legal compilation specified that only wayfarers who were ill could be granted temporary stays at local hospitals, which were primarily intended for the local poor: “[...] No foreigner in these kingdoms who goes about begging for alms may remain as a pilgrim at the court for more than one natural day; and those who truly appear to be poor and sick should be cared for in the hospitals, and in the bishoprics where they are natives, placing them in said hospitals and providing for them to be given food, [...].”15 However, not all those barred from hospitals were vagrants. Over a century earlier, King Juan II of Castile and León declared at the Cortes of Madrid in 1433 that deputies had petitioned him to prevent hospitals from being used as hostels or meeting places for confraternities, as their En que se reforma la Recopilación publicada por el Señor Don Felipe II en el año 1567 [...] (Madrid: Imprenta Real 1805). 15 “[...] que ningún extrangero destos reynos que anduviere pidiendo limosna, no pueda estar so color de romero en la corte más de un día natural; y los que verdaderamente pareciere que son pobres y enfermos sean curado en los hospitales, y en los obispados donde son naturales poniéndolos en los dichos hospitales buscándoles para les dar de comer, según que de suso está declarado.” In Recopilación de las Leyes destos Reynos, Lib. I, Tit. XVII, Ley xxiv, ff. 45-45v. 25 presence disrupted lodging and other activities. In response, the king decreed that hospitals should serve exclusively to accommodate the poor, while confraternities were to use their headquarters solely for charitable acts, including caring for the sick.16 Even earlier, at the Cortes of Burgos in 1315, deputies petitioned King Alfonso XI “to do the favor of ordering that knights do not lodge in hospitals, which were built for the poor and the sick, because when they [the knights] come to stay, they drive the poor out, who then die in the streets for lack of a place to go.”17 The purpose of this chapter is to examine how the Castilian legal tradition illustrates the separation of these two spheres: the recognition of poverty and charity as matters to be governed, while vagrancy remained consistently treated as a crime. It also traces the subsequent emergence of hospitals as autonomous and protected charitable institutions, enabling them to actively enact a “government by charity.” The “New” Poor Laws: 1518-1567 Between 1518 and 1540, Charles V sanctioned various laws to regulate how beggars and pilgrims should ask for alms and how local authorities should organize charity in the kingdom of Castile-León. After several enactments in Cortes, these laws were consolidated into five ordinances and fifteen instructions, which were subsequently promulgated as a single Act in 1540. Later, in 1567, Philip II reissued and expanded these laws as part of the Recopilación de las leyes 16 “Alo que me pedistes por merced deziendo que por quanto algunas délas mis cibdades e villas délos mis rregnos, cada que yo voy a ellas, se quexan délos mis posentadores, diziendo ser muy agraviados dellos enles non querer guardar las franquezas e libertades [...] para que non aposenten en sus casas e tyendas e otras posesiones, nin en los espítales dotados para acogimiento e bitación delos pobres e para ordenança e rregimiento délas cofadrías con buena devoción usadas, [...].” In Cortes de los Antiguos Reinos de León y Castilla, vol. 3, (Madrid: M. Rivadeneyra, 1866), 173-174. 17 “[...] me pidieron que toviese por bien de mandar deffender que non posassen los cavalleros en los espítales que fueron fechos para los pobres e para los enfermos, ca quando y vinían posar echan los pobres fuera e mueren en las calles porque non han do entrar. Tengo por bien e mando que por quanto esto es servicio de Dios, que daqui adelante non posen en los ospitales cavalleros nin otros ningunos e que sea guardado que se non faga.” In Cortes de los Antiguos Reinos, vol. I, 295-296. 26 destos Reynos.18 Although the Recopilación contains the completed version of the Poor Laws, dominant historiography has emphasized the Act of 1540 as the most significant piece of legislation on poverty in the kingdom. This perspective argues that the Act introduced legal innovations reflecting a new understanding of poverty and charity circulating in northern Europe, particularly inspired by the 1522 reforms in Nuremberg and Ypres. Felix Santolaria Sierra, for instance, claims that these laws were part of a broader European movement to enclose the poor in disciplinary institutions.19 However, as I will demonstrate, the so-called “new laws” were neither as innovative nor as transformative as commonly portrayed. The Act of 1540 did not represent a departure from earlier poor laws in Castile but instead reproduced legal traditions that had been accumulating for centuries. The Act of 1540 The Act of 1540 was a compilation of ordinances from earlier Cortes, issued by Charles V and enacted as a letter to be publicly read; despite its urgent tone, the laws were not new. Anne J. Cruz aptly notes that “[t]he numerous petitions that followed in 1523, 1528, and 1534, and the promulgation of the Poor Laws in 1540, clearly speak to the difficulties in imposing these restrictions.”20 While enforcing these ordinances proved challenging, the reform neither began in 1518 nor ended in 1540. In 1544, the same compilation was printed alongside other laws in a booklet known as Quaderno de algunas leyes que no están en el libro de las pramaticas.21 The 18 Recopilación de las Leyes destos Reynos, Primera Parte, Lib. I, Tit. XII, Leyes i-xxvii, ff.42v-47v. 19 Félix Santolaria Sierra, “Introducción” to Tratado de remedio de pobres by Miguel Giginta (Barcelona: Ariel, 2000), 9-10. 20 Cruz, Discourses of Poverty, 24. 21 Sebastián de Covarrubias Orozco, Tesoro de la lengua castellana, o española [...], (Madrid: Luis Sánchez, 1611), s.v. “Quaderno:” “Quaderno de libro se dixo, porque ordinariamente es de quatro pliegos; [...]. Leyes del quaderno, ciertas leyes del reino.” Vol A-Q, f. 601 27 Quaderno contained a collection of enactments organized into thirteen titles addressing various topics, including trial procedures, ecclesiastical rights, and a ban on “gypsies” (Roma people) wandering through Castile.22 The “Poor Laws,” designated as the twelfth title of the Quaderno, consist of an introduction, five laws, and fifteen “instructions.” The introduction, framed as an order issued by Charles V and signed by the Cardinal-Archbishop of Toledo, outlines the economic and other issues associated with vagrancy, such as immorality, crime, and a shortage of workers.23 As a re-enactment of previous laws, each of the five new ordinances quoted its immediate precedent. The order to force vagrants to work was originally enacted in 1381 by “don Juan [...], the great-grandfather of I, the king.”24 The prohibition against begging throughout the kingdom stemmed from a petition presented at the Cortes of Valladolid in 1523.25 The directive to establish a general hospital in each town and the instruction to issue licenses for beggars both originated from Charles V’s response at the Cortes of Toledo in 1527.26 Finally, the provisions to appoint a deputy to examine all paupers, expel foreign vagrants, and put beggars’ children to work were based on recommendations made to the king at the Cortes of Madrid in 1534.27 The inclusion of these diverse topics in the same document does not imply that they were of the same nature. Earlier 22 Quaderno de algunas leyes, que no están en el libro de las pramáticas, que por mandado de sus majestades, se mandan imprimir este año de MDxliiii años, (Alcalá de Henares: Juan de Brocar, 1544), ff. 17v-25. 23 Quaderno de algunas leyes, ff. 18-21. 24 Juan I of Castille (r. 1379-1390). Ibid., f. 18. 25 “[...] mandamos y ordenamos que los que ansí anduvieren vagabundos y holgazanes y no quisieren trabajar y afanar por sus manos ni sirvieren con señores [...] que cualquier de los de nuestros reynos lo pueda tomar por su autoridad, o servirse de ellos un mes sin soldada, [...], que no anden pobres por el reyno vezinos ni naturales de otras partes sino que cada uno pida en su naturaleza [...].” Ibid., f. 18. 26 “[...] que aya en cada pueblo un hospital general, y se consuman todos los hospitales en uno, [...] y assí mismo que en los pueblos se examinen los pobres y mendicantes, y que no puedan pedir sin cédula de persona diputada por el regimiento.” In Quaderno de algunas leyes, ff. 19-20. 27 “[...] que en cada ciudad o villa aya un diputado por el ayutamiento para que sin que aya licencia y cédula no puedan pedir los pobres; [...] que nigún extranjero pidiendo limosna [...], y que los que verdaderamente pareciere que son pobres y enfermos sean curado en los obispados donde son naturales [...]; y que los mochachos y niñas que anduvieren pidiendo, sean puestos a oficios con amos, [...].” Ibid., ff. 19-21. 28 we saw that the issue of Roma people wandering throughout the kingdom was addressed in a separate section of the Quaderno, alongside legal and ecclesiastical matters. The following fifteen instructions detailed how to implement the laws described above. They reiterated the previous orders and expanded on them by incorporating specific details requested by the deputies at Cortes. The first four instructions focused on issuing begging licenses for the “true poor.” Individuals with physical impairments, such as disabilities, chronic illnesses, injuries, or advanced age, and without family support, were required to apply for permission. This license, issued jointly by the parish priest and a local civil judge, allowed the poor to beg for alms within their hometown and province for one year. Approval of the license depended on a physical examination and the applicant’s reception of the sacraments of confession and communion.28 Nonetheless, there was an exception: if famine or plague struck their city or region, the local poor were permitted to travel to other places. The fifth instruction allowed sick visitors to seek care at local hospitals and to beg freely while recovering from their illness. The sixth instruction prohibited parents from begging with children older than five. Instead, local authorities were instructed to place these children into service or ensure they learned useful professions.29 The next four instructions granted permission to pilgrims, students, friars, and the blind to beg within the kingdom. All, except the blind, were required to apply for a license.30 Finally, the eleventh instruction forbade the poor from begging inside churches during mass—a common grievance of the period.31 28 Quaderno de algunas leyes, ff. 22-23. 29 Ibid., f. 23. 30 Ibid., ff. 23-24. 31 “Que los pobres que tuvieren licencia para pedir limosna no la pidan dentro en las yglesias, y monasterios durante el tiempo que se dice la missa mayor.” Ibid., f. 24. 29 The final three instructions offered general recommendations for administrative actions. The twelfth directed local authorities to appoint an official responsible for enforcing these directives within their jurisdiction.32 The thirteenth emphasized improving the collection and management of alms for the pobres vergonzantes—individuals known in English as the “shamefaced poor,” whose social status and sense of honor prevented them from begging publicly.33 The fourteenth and final instruction, perhaps one of the most influential in the Hispanic world, urged authorities to enhance hospital administration to reduce the need for public begging. This directive highlighted the importance of assessing the actual income of hospitals, including endowments and pious donations, and implementing “some good actions” to improve funding and management, ensuring hospitals could adequately support the poor in their communities.34 The Act of 1540 was not as innovative as historiography has often argued; the Act itself acknowledged that all its ordinances and instructions were already in existence, aiming merely to enforce orders derived from older secular and ecclesiastical laws. Only the restriction on begging freely throughout the kingdom and the explicit aim of eliminating beggars from the streets could be considered novel, though even these were not entirely original. Nevertheless, the Act did introduce some changes. The final three instructions, in particular, inspired thinkers and counselors to propose new ideas for administering hospitals and shelters.35 It also sparked a significant theological debate on the rights of the poor to beg freely without oversight, a topic I will address 32 “Que si para mejor execución de lo suso dicho fuere necessario nombrar alguna persona, que los concejos de las ciudades, villas, y lugares juntamente con la justicia lo puedan hacer conforme a la ley por nos hecha en las cortes de Madrid el año passado de mil y quininetos y treynta y quatro.” Ibid., f. 24. 33 Quaderno de algunas leyes, f. 24. 34 “Y por si se pudiese hacer que los pobres se alimentasen sin que anduviesen a pedir por las calles sería mucho servicio de Dios, y se seguirían otros buenos efectos, encargamos (to magistrates, priests, and administrators) se informen de la renta que tienen los dichos hospitales, [...], y trabajen que estas se gasten en curar y alimentar los que fueren pobres, [...].” Ibid., f. 25. 35 Ibid. 30 in subsequent chapters.36 All these ideas and projects aimed to uphold traditional law rather than alter it through any form of revolutionary laicism. Furthermore, the Poor Act of 1540 was not the definitive version of the “Poor Laws,” as new petitions on the same matter were presented at the Cortes of Valladolid in 1555, re-enacted by King Philip II in 1558, and ultimately incorporated into the Recopilación of 1567.37 The Recopilación of 1567 A new compilation of Castilian laws, commissioned by Philip II, was published in 1567 as the Recopilación or Nueva Recopilación de las leyes destos reynos. Designed to serve as the definitive collection of royal decrees, it became the most significant legal source in the Hispanic world for the next two centuries.38 The twelfth title of its first book was entirely devoted to “the Pilgrims and the Poor.” This section not only incorporated laws reissued in 1540 and compiled in the Quaderno of 1544 but also included additional laws issued in Cortes, expanding the collection from fifteen to twenty-six laws. Among these was the “New Ordinance for the Poor to Beg,” enacted by Philip II in 1565. The Recopilación represented not just the final iteration of the Poor Laws but also the most comprehensive and systematically organized version, categorizing topics according to their legal nature. Of the twenty-six laws in this title, the first five addressed pilgrims, the next six focused on beggars, and the remaining sixteen detailed the various categories of poor— including monks, students, and the blind—and their specific rights and restrictions regarding 36 This Act of 1540 became the point of departure for the famous debate between Juan de Robles and Domingo de Soto in 1545, which I will address in the next chapter. 37 Recopilación de las Leyes destos Reynos, Primera Parte, Lib. I, Tit. XII, Leyes i-xxvii, ff.42v-47v. 38 José Manuel Pérez-Prades y Muñoz de Arraco, “La recopilación de las leyes de los reinos Castellano-Leoneses: Esbozos para un comentario a su libro primero,” Dehesa 10 (2004), 407-476. 31 begging.39 Among these, ley xix instructed local authorities to improve the organization of hospitals and shelters.40 The laws on pilgrims (ley i to ley v) not only welcomed them to the kingdom but also safeguarded their rights, their persons, and their belongings. Pilgrimage remained a highly esteemed religious practice in the early modern period, and magistrates were instructed to compensate pilgrims for any harm caused by local residents.41 The first law proclaimed: “[a]ll pilgrims and wayfarers traveling on pilgrimage through our kingdoms, […] we grant and bestow upon them our privilege of safety, [...]; that no one shall dare to harm them; […] and that they may safely lodge and stay in inns, places of lodging, and hospitals.”42 These laws further guaranteed pilgrims the right to beg for alms and to bring their animals into the kingdom. In essence, the law recognized pilgrims as subjects with special privileges, reflecting the authorities’ view of pilgrimage as a legitimate and praiseworthy activity deserving protection.43 The next six laws (ley vi to ley xi) focus on local beggars, emphasizing the importance of keeping them visible and identifiable to prevent confusion with vagrants. First, the laws prohibit the poor from traveling across the kingdom.44 Second, they require beggars to obtain a license 39 Recopilación de las Leyes destos Reynos, Primera Parte, Lib. I, Tit. XII, Leyes i-xxvii, ff.42v-47v. 40 Ibid., Lib. I, Tit. XVII, Leyes f. 44v. 41 On the meaning and practice of medieval pilgrimage, see Jonathan Sumption, Pilgrimage: An Image of Medieval Religion (Totowa: Rowman and Littlefield, 1975), 168–210. 42 “Todos los romeros y peregrinos que anduvieren en romería por nuestros reinos, mayormente los que fueren y vinieren en romería a Santiago, sean seguros, y les damos y otorgamos nuestro privilegio de seguridad, [...]; que ninguno sea osado de les hacer daño; y yendo y viniendo a las dichas romerías puedan seguramente albergar y posar en mesones y lugares de alberguería, y hospitales, [...].” In Recopilación de las Leyes destos Reynos, Primera Parte, Lib. I, Tit. XII, Ley i., f. 42v. 43 On the protections granted for pilgrims in Castile see Las Siete Partidas, vol. I, 264-265. 44 “(...), que no puedan andar ni anden pobres por estos nuestros reynos, vezinos ni naturales de otras partes, sino que cada uno pida en su naturaleza, (...).” In Recopilación de las Leyes destos Reynos, Primera Parte, Lib. I, Tit. XII, Ley vi, f. 43. According to Tamar Herzog, “naturaleza” did not correspond to modern “nativeness”; rather, she explains that “by the fifteenth century, it defined a particular community of people who enjoyed exclusivity in office holding and in the use of ecclesiastical benefices in the kingdom.” In, Defining Nations: Immigrants and Citizens in Early Modern Spain and Spanish America (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2003), 8. To Covarrubias, “Naturaleza” means the same as “nature,” but it is also the place of residence of someone. He gives the example 32 from local authorities, which could only be granted after they had received the sacraments of confession and communion.45 Finally, the laws forbid beggars from bringing children with them while begging and instruct local authorities to place these children into service or ensure they learn “useful” trades.46 Drawn directly from the “Poor Laws” reenactment of 1540, the primary aim of these provisions was to tie beggars to a specific jurisdiction and regulate their reproduction as much as possible. Historians have identified these six laws, along with ley xix on hospital administration, as the core of Castile’s reform efforts. However, they represented only a fraction of the broader legislative framework addressing poverty, vagrancy, and charity. Surprisingly, the law on hospitals is not a comprehensive piece of legislation defining their nature and purpose as charitable institutions. Instead, ley xix directs local authorities to organize hospitals and shelters as more efficient collectors of alms to support the poor within their jurisdictions.47 As noted earlier, the fourteenth instruction in the Quaderno of 1544 expressed the aim of helping the poor to such an extent that public begging would no longer be necessary—an instruction that followed a petition issued at the Cortes of Toledo in 1525. Four decades later, Philip II reiterated this ambitious challenge to local authorities in his Ordinance of 1565. However, the law provided no specific guidance on how to achieve this goal. It was only after the 1570s that thinkers such as Miguel Giginta and Cristóbal Pérez de Herrera began proposing detailed plans to address the issue, as I will explore in the following chapter. 48 “Natural de Toledo,” meaning a person who was born and has his family in that city. See Tesoro de la lengua, s. v. “Naturaleza,” vol. A-Q, f. 561. 45 Recopilación de las Leyes destos Reynos, Primera Parte, Lib. I, Tit. XII, Ley viii, ff. 43-43v. 46 To put somebody into service meant to become a servant. According to Covarrubias, Tesoro de la lengua, s. v. “Servir:” “vale obedecer a otro, y hazer su voluntad, y unos sirven libremente dando gusto a otros, estos sirven con su voluntad; otros sirven forzados, como los esclavos, y otros en una medianía, alquilándose, o haziendo concierto con la persona a quien sirven, como son los criados de los señores.” Vol. A-Q, f. 174. 47 Recopilación de las Leyes destos Reynos, Primera Parte, Lib. I, Tit. XII, Ley xix, ff. 43v. 48 Ibid., ff. 43v-44v 33 In addition to organizing the laws by topic and providing a more thorough account of legal precedents than the Act of 1540—for instance, the prohibition on begging in multiple jurisdictions, which was issued not only at the Cortes of Valladolid in 1523, as the Act claimed, but also in Toledo in 1525, and Madrid in 1528 and 1534—the 1567 compilation introduces a new type of law. The marginal note to ley xxvi— “Which establishes the new ordinance for the poor to beg for alms”—states that this law was issued as a pragmática by Philip II in Madrid in 1565.49 Pragmáticas were laws enacted directly by the king based on his absolute legislative authority. These laws were considered to carry the same weight “as if given in Cortes,” signifying that pragmáticas had the implied consent of the entire kingdom.50 Nevertheless, Philip II made few changes to what had already been agreed upon. In the introductory paragraph to the “New Ordinances,” he declared that previous laws had not been observed and that “[since] the number of vagabonds and idlers has grown, we ordered that the content of those laws should be observed and executed.”51 To achieve this, Philip II instructed local magistrates to appoint two officials, known as diputados (deputies), in each parish of the kingdom. These deputies were tasked with collecting information about “all those who live, stay, or gather in hospitals, shelters, or other houses and have no profession, job, nor serve a lord, sustaining themselves and living by wandering and 49 The marginal note does not appear in the 1598 edition but in a 1569 edition published also in Alcalá de Henares but by Andrés de Angulo, “Don Philippe 2 en Madrid. año 1565 a 7 de Agosto pragmatica.” see vol 1. Lib. I, tit. XII, ley xxvi, ff. 44. 50 See also Diccionario Panhispánico del Español Jurídico (2023), shttps://dpej.rae.es/lema/pragmática-o- pragmática-real, s. v. “Pragmática o Pragmática Real:” “En Castilla se promulgaron pragmáticas sobre temas muy diversos con la fórmula «como si hubieran sido dadas en Cortes», en el sentido de ser consideradas con rango superior. Fue la forma habitual de legislar, desprendiéndose de las Cortes, a partir del siglo XIV o principios del siglo XV.” 51 “[...] a causa de lo qual ha crescido el número delos vagabundo y holgazanes, mandamos que lo contenido en las dichas leyes se cunpla y execute, [...].” Recopilación de las Leyes destos Reynos, Primera Parte, Lib. I, Tit. XII, Ley xxvi, f. 45v. 34 begging for money; [...].”52 They were also responsible for enforcing previous ordinances: examining the poor to identify who was truly sick and distinguishing them from vagabonds. Additionally, the deputies were to ensure that the genuinely poor received confession and communion and to issue licenses for begging. Whereas earlier laws required these licenses to include only the beneficiary's name and residence, the “New Ordinance” mandated the inclusion of age, height, color, and “other features” to prevent fraud.53 Finally, the ordinance directed that sick and wounded beggars be sent to hospitals for treatment, while deputies were tasked with collecting alms every Sunday and on holidays to support the poor, including the pobres vergonzantes.54 In both the Act of 1540 and the Recopilación of 1567, the instructions remained fundamentally the same, reflecting the same concepts, values, and strategies as the ordinances previously issued in Cortes between 1518 and 1534. However, the “New Ordinance” of 1565 introduced three notable innovations. First, the law was not issued in Cortes but enacted directly by the king in collaboration with the Royal Council. Second, to enforce these ordinances, Philip II mandated two deputies per parish, instead of the earlier recommendation of one official per city. Finally, the new law required deputies to include more detailed personal information in begging licenses. Most significant was the monarchy’s growing control over legislation in these matters. By legislating through pragmáticas and the Royal Council, Philip II tried to impose stricter punishments for vagrants, imposed new conditions for begging, and made additional recommendations to improve poor relief. 52 “[...] de todos los que viven y moran y se recogen en los hospitales, posadas y otras casas della, que sin tener officio, ni trabajar, ni servir a señor, solamente se mantienen y viven de andar mendigando y pidiendo limosna, [...];” [...].” Recopilación de las Leyes destos Reynos, Primera Parte, Lib. I, Tit. XII, Ley xxvi, f. 45v. 53 Ibid., ff. 45v-46. 54 Ibid., Ley xxvi, f. 46. 35 According to Martz, by 1557 “any relief effort that involved an organized collection and distribution of alms, a prohibition of public begging, and confinement of beggars had to be approved by the crown, and approval was contingent upon ‘conditions, suitability and possibilities.’”55 However, if sixteenth-century legislation primarily sought to enforce established precedents, how innovative were the royal authorities’ efforts compared to earlier laws? Were Charles V and Philip II imposing a secular rationality over a religious tradition? To what extent did this new legislation break with Castilian legal precedents? Addressing these questions requires examining how laws on poverty and charity were shaped by medieval legislation and determining what aspects persisted or changed by the sixteenth century. The Liber Iudiciorum and The Fuero Juzgo The earliest precedent in Castilian legislation was the Liber Iudiciorum (The Book of Judgments), a legal compilation issued in 654 by the Visigothic king Recesvinth. It synthesized vernacular Roman law by integrating local, Roman, and Germanic legal traditions. By the eleventh century, it had become the most important legal source in the Iberian Peninsula.56 For roughly five centuries, it was regarded as the primary source of public law in Iberia, serving as a legal reference for judges in royal courts, a local charter for the kingdoms of León and Galicia, and municipal law in many cities. Its first local adaptation was granted to Toledo in the twelfth century, incorporating the laws of the local Mozarabs (Christian communities under Islamic rule) alongside the privileges 55 Martz, Poverty and Welfare, 31. 56 See Libro de los Juicios (Liber Iudiciorum), ed. Rafael Ramis Barceló and transl.Pedro Ramis Serra (transl.) (Madrid: Agencia Estatal Boletín Oficial del Estado, 2015), 11; and Fuero de Madrid, eds. Javier Alvarado Planas, and Gonzalo Oliva Manso (Madrid, Agencia Estatal Boletín Oficial del Estado, 2019), 143-144. See also Peter Stein, Roman Law in European History (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999), 38. 36 of the conquering Castilians and Franks (a term for non-Iberian Western Europeans).57 As the Reconquista extended south, various kings granted the Fuero of Toledo to cities such as Córdoba (1241), Seville (1250), and Murcia (1266).58 The Córdoba version, later called the Fuero Juzgo (ca. 1260), was the first to be translated into the vernacular.59 Despite attempts by the Catholic Monarchs in the late fifteenth century to replace it with the Fuero Nuevo, the Fuero Juzgo and its variations continued to be observed in many areas, reflecting its enduring influence and solidifying its status as the most valuable source for studying the Visigothic legal tradition.60 Poverty was not as central to the Fuero Juzgo as the protection of certain “weak” individuals, such as orphans, widows, and serfs.61 The first two resulted from church doctrine, particularly the Deuteronomic precept: “He sees justice done for the orphan and the widow; he loves the foreigner and gives the foreigner food and clothing.”62 According to the Fuero Juzgo, these vulnerable individuals were to be protected by their relatives or lords, not by institutions. Orphans were to be cared for by their mothers, older siblings, or uncles.63 Even niños echados (foundlings) were not to be sheltered through charitable acts. Instead, the law protected adoptive families by granting them the money collected from fines imposed on the biological parents.64 For the Fuero Juzgo, these groups were not seen as disenfranchised but rather as the responsibility of private parties. The rare references to poverty in this compilation pertain to laws addressing how 57 Mozarabs were Christians living under Islamic law, and Francs were Frenchmen and other Europeans who participated in the conquest. see Miguél Camacho Contudo, ed., Los fueros de Toledo y Castilla la Nueva (Madrid: Agencia estatal Boletín del Estado, 2017), 16-19; Fuero de Madrid, 49-52. 58 “[...] si el sirvo diz que quiere fazer demanda por sí, o por sus sennores, quel contra quien la quiere fazer, deve ser constrennido por el iuez, que responda por derecho, e que faga emienda segund la ley, si el siervo le pudere venzer.” Fuero Juzgo: Edición de la Real Academia Española de 1815, ed. Santos M. Coronas (Madrid, Agencia Estatal Boletín Oficial del Estado, 2015), XII-XIII, and XXXI-XXXII 59 Ibid., pp. XII-XIII. 60 Ibid., p. XIII. 61 Fuero Juzgo, Lib. IV, tít. III, 73-74; and Lib. IV. Tít. IV, 75-76 62 Deut. 10:18, The Revised New Jerusalem Bible: Study Edition, 267. 63 Fuero Juzgo, Lib. IV. Tít. IV, 78. 64 Ibid., 75-76. 37 to balance social disparity, such as determining the appropriate stature of a legal representative for the poor in lawsuits involving w