Rhomania in the 1650s, part 2: Slaves, Spain, and Science
Rhomania in the 1650s, part 2-Slaves, Spain, and Science:
Exactly how it happened is unclear, but the end result was not. In May 1656 several slaves snuck into Ft Odysseus on the island of St. Giorgios, the largest of Rhomania’s two Caribbean Island possessions. Using cane knives, they killed several soldiers and took control of the fort. Using that as a base and now substantially better armed, the free slaves attacked over twenty plantations on the island, freeing more slaves and killing more Romans.
It was seven months before a small Roman expedition, reinforced by local planters (mostly from neighboring St. David) and provided with vital logistical support by the Spanish on Puerto Rico, retook the fort. Forty-one free slaves taken captive during the battle were executed afterwards, in a variety of brutal and painful methods. A popular favorite was shoving gunpowder into anuses or vaginas and setting off the charges. [1]
Order had been restored and Rhomania in the West quickly resumed its sadistic and profitable existence as a small sugar plantation society. The plantations were rebuilt by aspiring planters with imports of new slaves, and to avoid a repeat tighter and more brutal regulations were imposed on African laborers. From the point of view of the state, the whole affair had been annoying but hardly threatening or important. (The blacks likely would’ve held a different opinion, but nobody asked them.) When the initial news arrived in Constantinople, the Patriarch had been startled to learn that the Empire had any holdings in the Caribbean.
Yet the whole affair had been embarrassing. Slave rebellions or planned uprisings were quite common, but the Ft Odysseus rebellion was by far the most successful Caribbean slave uprising to that time. In terms of numbers involved, even by the 1650s, it was hardly the largest. But no other rebellion had seized and held a ‘major’, by the standards of the colony involved, fort for so long. The tiny nature of Rhomania in the West and difficulty of reinforcement played a key role in the rebels’ success, but that hardly make the Romans look better in the aftermath. Spanish aid had not technically been essential, but without it the Roman response would’ve taken even longer and been substantially more expensive. While this was a niche case due to geography, the entire episode made the Romans look impotent.
An aspect that got many of the war hawks’ hackles up was the support of the Spanish. In their ambitions for western expansion, Italy was the glimmering prize, for historical and economic reasons; Milan would be a much greater prize than Buda. But the chief barrier to such ambitions were Spanish arms. The Lombards or Arletians alone were not a threat, but combined with the Spanish they were a danger. (Ironically, one reason for the high estimation of Spanish arms in Roman eyes is that many Spaniards have served in the Roman army, gaining a reputation for valor and tenacity, particularly as line and light infantry.)
As a result, they oppose any rapprochement with Spain. After the Treaty of Cologne, some propose an alliance with Henri, arguing for supporting Louis’ claim to Arles in exchange for Triune support for a Roman conquest of Italy. Others are outraged by the idea, pointing out that Henri had no quarrel with the Romans when he supported Theodor’s invasion, and that Theodor’s invasion likely wouldn’t have gotten nearly as far as it did and did so much damage if not for Vauban and his siege skills.
There is a new Spanish King, Joao I, succeeding his father, Ferdinand, in 1653. Despite some concerns, the transfer of power went smoothly, an important milestone in the history of Spain. That is not to say all is well with Spain. The rigors of the Little Ice Age are biting hard, and the ‘surfeit of young angry men’ in Iberia bears a marked resemblance to that in Rhomania. There is the issue of lingering massive debts from the Andalusi war, plus the losses to the Romans in the east, and now the Lotharingians are pressing hard against what remains of Spanish power, wealth, and influence in those far waters. And now there is the loss of influence in Arles and the worrying prospect of sharing a border with the Triple Monarchy.
Joao is not blind to those issues, and one way he seeks to resolve them is to restore and improve relations with the Romans. His willingness to aid the Romans in the Caribbean was a part of that. Unlike the Dauphin Louis, rather poorly equipped and poorly inclined to deal well with Englishmen, Joao is well prepared for dealing well with Romans. His chief governess as a child, who he adored and as king supports with a hefty pension, was a Sicilian Greek and he speaks Greek with a perfect Messina accent. As part of his education, he was given a thorough tutoring in the history of the Mediterranean and its nations, including Rhomania, and he is fond of the writings of Theodoros II Laskaris, although in Spanish translation.
In 1659, Spanish and Roman ambassadors sign the Treaty of Saluzzo, which had hosted the negotiations as a central and neutral location. This treaty is not significant in diplomatic history or replete with major shifts in land holdings like its near-contemporary the Treaty of Cologne. It is overwhelmingly concerned with commercial matters. In it, the Spanish are granted more and expanded trading facilities throughout much of the Imperial heartland, with the opening of more Spanish consulates and allowing more Catholic clergy to fulfill the spiritual needs of the Spanish community. The Spanish are also given more opportunities to trade in Rhomania-in-the-East, in exchange there for helping to defend the area against growing Lotharingian pressure.
The Romans don’t get similar concessions in Iberia, because they don’t ask for them. For the Romans, the benefit is getting support and defense for colonial holdings in the Caribbean and Island Asia, and expanded trade with Spain. The Romans are hungry for New World products, especially sugar and cocoa, and most of that imported comes from Spanish ships. They want more Spanish, with those goods, to come to them; they are not interested in going to Spain. Rare is the Roman merchant ship that ventures west of Sardinia these days.
The gain for Joao is that the expanded commercial opportunities will please the merchant communities, the source of much of the restiveness in Spanish society, and generate needed revenue. Cooperation with Rhomania in distant waters should also improve relations, making the Romans more likely to support Spanish policy goals in Europe. Joao is disappointed that he wasn’t able to negotiate the return of Malacca at Saluzzo, but he still holds that goal and is hopeful that the possibility will present itself down the line.
There is one way he might’ve gotten Malacca back at this stage, but he is not willing to pay it. As far as Joao is concerned, the Italian settlement as established by the Treaty of Constantinople in 1639 is set in stone and he is not willing to change it. Roman expansionism in Italy is seen as a threat to Spanish security, and on this he will not compromise.
This makes many of the war hawks in Rhomania despise Joao. The new King is aware of this, but is savvier regarding the Roman scene than his father. He knows this is just one element of Roman society that feels this way, and at the moment not the dominant one. But he also knows this is a situation on which he needs to stay informed.
Most of the Treaty of Saluzzo is bland and insignificant to most students of history, but there is one element that stands out. Per normal diplomatic practice, both sides walk away with a copy of the treaty written in their main tongue, in this case Greek and Spanish. In the Greek version, Herakleios III (the official sovereign), is listed as Emperor of the Romans. This is normal. In the Spanish version, Herakleios III, is also listed as Emperor of the Romans. This is not. Normally in the non-Greek version, the title is rendered as something else, usually ‘Emperor of the Greeks’. In the eyes of the Latin West, the only Roman Emperor is the Holy Roman Emperor. But by doing this, the Spanish are formally recognizing Herakleios as Roman Emperor, and not just ‘a’ Roman Emperor, but ‘the’ Roman Emperor. There are no qualifiers in the Spanish text.
There are two reasons for this. The first is simple. Joao, who knows the Romans well, is aware of how significant this matter is in the eyes of the Romans. This acknowledgment costs him nothing materially, but psychologically massively improves Spanish standing in Roman eyes. In terms of his goals in improving Spanish-Roman relations, this is a massive achievement.
The other is somewhat more complicated. Joao is bothered by the elevation of a Habsburg to the office of Holy Roman Emperor. He is used to them as being a significant player in the Bernese League, but no more. This jump in status seems rather presumptuous to him. If it had been his decision, he would’ve preferred Karl Manfred to be the new Emperor.
By itself, that might not have been enough. But Joao is annoyed by Leopold. He is irritated with the Habsburg for not backing him when the Spanish protested the proposed Triune-Arletian match, which as a member of the Bernese League (due to his Habsburg ancestry) Joao feels he should have. That Leopold had justified the lack of backing on the grounds of the lack of Spanish support in Germany only irritated Joao more. Because the Spanish had contributed, in the form of the Army of Observation in 1635. And for that, thousands of Spanish had died, including Joao’s elder half-brother Alfonso, who Joao had adored as a child.
So, for Joao, the clause is both a way to improve relations with the Romans and insult Leopold at the same time, a nice two-for-one deal.
There is no serious diplomatic backlash for this. A Wittelsbach Emperor from 1630 or earlier would’ve been too dangerous a foe to insult like this, but Joao ignores the protests from Leopold. Leopold’s uncle the Pope is someone that Joao takes more seriously, but he politely but firmly informs his Holiness that these are secular diplomatic affairs for which he is responsible, not the Pope. The archbishopric of Toledo, the richest in Iberia, is also vacant, and Joao agrees to approve the Pope’s preferred candidate, which also inclines the Pope not to continue to make an issue of Roman titling.
Another way for the Spanish to improve relations with the court in Constantinople is with special gifts. Joao is aware of the Roman interest in exotic animals, a tradition that really gained force under Demetrios III and has continued under Athena. Frozen wooly mammoths and wooly rhinoceroses have already made their way to Constantinople. Joao adds Galapagos turtles, a baby female gorilla, and Capuchin monkeys to the list.
The descendants of those Galapagos turtles can still be seen in the Imperial gardens today, not many generations removed because of their lifespan. One of them, Socrates, is the oldest known living land vertebrate.
The baby female gorilla causes a stir. She becomes famous for wanting to be held just like a human child, holding her arms up when she wants it, and making sad faces if this is denied. Sadly, the climate in Constantinople does not agree with her and she does not live to adulthood.
The Capuchin monkeys last longer, although not to the extent of the tortoises. In a famous incident a year after their arrival, some drunk young men decide the monkeys would make good target practice and shoot at them, wounding several before they are disarmed. The monkeys gather around their injured comrades, clearly distressed, with some pressing their hands to the wounds to staunch the bleeding while others mash and chew plants to use as poultices for the injuries. Onlookers are shocked by this very-human reaction. [2]
Another animal arrival at this time in Constantinople, although not from Spain, is a pair of aurochs from Poland. Historians believe these might have been the only breeding pair extant at the time of that ancient species, the ancestors of domestic cattle. At the time, there doesn’t appear to have been any concept of extinct species, with many believing that living wooly mammoths and rhinoceroses are out somewhere in the wilds of Siberia, although dinosaur bone discoveries are making some learned Romans to start hypothesizing about the concept.
What is clear is that the Romans are determined to ensure the aurochs survive and reproduce. And somehow, they manage it. Some biologists argue that the ‘new aurochs’ don’t count, since the process involved mixed breeding with Phrygian cattle, needed to increase genetic diversity, but others disagree. And as a result, when one visits the ruins of [Çatalhöyük] and looks out across the landscape, one can see herds of aurochs, almost as it had been there, nine thousand years ago.
The behavior of the Capuchins and the aurochs program, combined with the discovery of dinosaur bones earlier in the century, start to mark a shift in how the Romans view the natural world. The concept of extinct species, alongside the concept of extinct civilizations (an insight fueled by the decipherment of hieroglyphs and cuneiform later in the century), plus the behavior of the Capuchins, blurs the line between humanity and nature. And it opens the possibility of viewing nature not as something static and unchanging, but an evolving and changing world, fluid and alterable, with a history of its own of change and growth and death, just like humanity.
[1] This is largely copied from an OTL slave revolt in the Danish West Indies in 1733. See The Many-Headed Hydra: Sailors, Slaves, Commoners, and the Hidden History of the Revolutionary Atlantic by Peter Linebaugh and Marcus Rediker, pgs. 201-02. And while I don’t know if that particular execution method was used in the aftermath of this particular revolt, it is a historical method used against rebels.
[2] Reportedly this was the behavior of Capuchins when wounded by muskets in the 1600s. See Empire of Blue Water by Stephan Talty.
