this world in which the Robledos immersed themselves while awaiting departure.
The city was indeed a marvel. As the only repository for all exchange and business with the West Indies, it was literally bursting at the seams. As Spain’s American colonies had only a small number of industries apart from the development of mineral deposits and certain unrefined resources, they were reliant upon imports from Europe for a considerable variety of goods. With Seville’s warehouses bulging, the overflow lay on the strand waiting for inspection. The Robledos had arrived too late to observe the off-loading of precious metals coming from the West Indies, but, they were told that there had been 257 cartloads of silver, gold and pearls of great value.4 Since there was no room within the Casa de Contratacion, large quantities of bar gold and chests full of precious metals remained outside the building in its well-guarded courtyard. These, as well as cocoa, cochineal, leather and skins, sugar, and timber all coming from the West Indies were piled in heaps across the strand. Here, among an incredible array of goods, the Robledos placed their baggage to be watched over by their muleteers.
The strand, or arenal, on which cargo was stored, had the appearance of a colorful and unending bazaar that stretched from the battlement enclosing the city to the left bank of the Guadalquivir River. It was said that one could find bird’s milk here if one wished to have it. There were Moorish azulejos, the distinctive blue and green picture tiles dating from the 14th century that were the preferred decoration for the finest palaces and monasteries. There were hats and caps, shirts and socks, cloth, ironware, oil, silk, soap, tools, wine, and even mercury, the latter destined for the mines of New Spain where it was to be used in the extraction of silver. The cargoes of many foreign nations also littered the strand. The presence of these foreign ships and their cargoes was largely due to the poor quality of cloth then available in Spain and New Spain, and an insufficient quantity of a whole range of exports which might have been provided by Spain itself. Ships had come from Rouen and St. Malo loaded with cloth from Normandy. Italian ships brought fine brocades, while ships from the German cities of Hamburg and Lubek carried lumber and hempen cord and ropes, each essential in the construction of ships. Also on the strand were the foodstuffs needed for the ocean passage. For the three-month voyage (though actually the duration was uncertain and could be longer) the novice sailors would need biscuits and dried meat, cheese, butter, rice, beans, vinegar, oil, salted cod and herring, fruits, vegetables, and red wine. Among the inviting aromas of stews and garlic, one could find the world on the strand.
* * *
On the morning following their arrival, Pedro donned his ‘city clothes’ in preparation for his excursion into the city. His clothing, much of which had been provided him by his father-in-law, consisted of a tight-fitting jacket, with a high stiff collar, short pantaloons, stockings, and a classic Spanish cape. Although the clothes fit him well, except for the pantaloons, which were decidedly too short for him, he was uneasy in them. His well-shaped legs and average height body might have been appropriate to elegant suits and the finest clothes. Although he was a man who preferred wearing clothing for the road, this dress was required for a man of distinction. Pedro, Diego and their agent, Enrique Enriquez, who was to assist them in gaining passage, then set out on their walk to the commercial center of the city.
Their agent’s home and place of business, Catalina’s father had told them, were on the Calle de la Frontera near the tower of St. Mary (formerly known as ‘La Giralda’ or ‘The Weathervane’). This was a 20-story bell tower—now the steeple of the cathedral—built as the minaret for the ancient Grand Mosque that had hugged the walls of the alcazar in the old aljama or Jewish Quarter of the city. Because of the prominence of the tower which rose more than 300 feet above the city’s walls, Pedro and his family had used it as a beacon in their search for their agent’s home.5
After leaving their agent’s house and walking with him through a beautiful walled-in garden cloister at the cathedral, they visited the gradas. These were the steps that led to the Orangery, the ruins of an old mosque that flanked the north side of the Victory-topped cathedral, the third largest church in the world. Here, on the worn steps, the business of arranging overseas travel and trade was being conducted.
On the steps, appearing muy donoso, and perfumed at that, were merchants, ship-owners, bankers and courtiers dressed in short capes, hats with plumes of many colors and with daggers hanging at their sides. They were discussing the value of gold and silver, rates of interest and exchange and the cost of commodities in the West Indies.
Also on the steps, and moving in and out of the milling crowd, were beautifully dressed women carrying embroidered handbags and wearing high-heeled shoes. They were attired in long-sleeved gowns of every color and either high-collared cloaks, vast sleeveless capes, or mantas of tulle or transparent silk which they drew across their faces to reveal just one eye. Diego watched in fascination as these women drifted in and out of the crowd. Occasionally, he could see a cheek painted with scarlet, lips covered with a thin layer of wax to make them gleam, or a long, white, delicate hand to which its owner had applied either a special almond paste, an ointment made from bacon fat, or vinagrillo (vinegar water), a cosmetic lotion composed of vinegar, eggs, sweet limes and honey. And the scent of these women in the blaze of the Andalusian sun was overwhelming, for their maids, in droplets projected between beautiful white teeth, had spat ambergris, rosewater, and civet upon them.
It was at the Orangery that Pedro got his first glimpse of the manner in which the overseas business was conducted. He felt like a small fish in a pond of piranhas and wondered if he could learn to swim among them. This was not his way of doing business and the cacophony and odors he experienced were overwhelming. However, he could not escape Seville yet, for his agent told him that he had to meet with officials at the Casa de la Contratacion. They would obtain information regarding his character and confirm his license to travel overseas. His agent and his agent’s wife were to be his only witnesses.
* * *
“They’ll be asking you many questions, Senor Robledo,” his agent said as they stood in the shade of one of the cathedral’s soaring portals. “There’ll be questions regarding your age, your community of residence, your marriage, the legitimacy of your children and whether either of them is committed to a religious order or to marriage. They’ll want to have information regarding your parents and those of Senora Robledo, whether you’re an old or a new Christian, everything. You’re incredibly fortunate in one regard, at least,” he said. “The prohibition against emigration was just this year suspended. And then we can hope that they’ll not have been instructed to detain you, and that your answers mirror those you provided when you made your initial petition—the one you made three years ago. Are your circumstances the same?” he asked.
“No,” Pedro responded. “Much has changed. The initial petition was made for my wife and for our four children, and also for my nephew, Luis, whom I raised as my own. Also, we were going to live with my cousins, Miguel de Sandoval and Catalina Sanchez who were residents of Mexico. My cousin Miguel, God rest his soul, died from a fall from his horse, and his wife returned here. And you know of my children and of Luis,” he said sadly. “Things have changed enormously, Senor Enriquez. The initial petition was made to provide us with a back-up plan. Now we’re forced to go.”
“I was sorry to hear of your children, don Pedro,” his agent responded while crossing himself with his right hand. “Your loss is beyond measure. However, I’m sure they’re in a better place, God save and keep them,” he added in a guarded tone while he persisted with the task at hand. “Regarding the license, don Pedro,” he continued. “We’ll be truthful, but only as thorough as required, and it’ll be best not to have anyone else there whom they might question—if you know what I mean. You do know what I mean?” he asked while again hitching his short cape about his shoulders.
“Yes, I understand,” Pedro answered.
“Your wife and children might yet have to appear,” he said, “but perhaps our testimony will
