The Culmination of the Bourbon Reforms, 1787-1792

Napoleon’s invasion of the Iberian peninsula and the forced abdications of Charles IV and Ferdinand VII in 1808 threatened the unity of the Spanish empire. A danger so obvious prompted the provisional government to chart a new course in colonial affairs. Among the measures it considered was the reestablishment of the Ministry of the Indies, which had been dismantled after the death of the controversial José de Galvez in 1787.¹ Naturally, this projected revival reopened the quarrel between supporters and opponents of the great minister. But both sides could agree that the administrative changes occasioned by Gálvez’ demise were followed by a catastrophic decline in Spain’s colonial fortunes. It seemed to many that a return to the old institutions was needed.²

The views then voiced by José Pablo Valiente and Francisco de Requena, two experienced members of the Council of the Indies, were faithful expressions of contemporary opinion. Valiente maintained that the colonies’ powerful elites and disobedient officials had been tamed by the Ministry. Because of their devotion to the slogan “one king, one law,” however, royal advisors were not prepared to allow the Indies to remain under a special regime, and so destroyed the colonial office. In succeeding years, Valiente complained, Madrid neglected American problems, colonial bureaucrats regained their independence, and the fruits of the Bourbon reforms were utterly lost.³ Requena, far from believing that the Gálvez years had been a golden age, felt that the revolts and bureaucratization of the period had hurt the empire. Nevertheless, he agreed that Spain’s colonial interests had been neglected after the abolition of the Ministry, and maintained that this had led to such truly disastrous diplomatic accords as the Nootka convention; the rectification of the Florida boundaries; and the cession of Santo Domingo, Trinidad, and Louisiana.⁴

Recent works have concurred with these pessimistic views. Gildas Bernard concludes that Valiente’s criticisms are solidly based.⁵ David Brading ascribes the successes of the enemies of colonial reform to the replacement of one strong minister by several weak ones.⁶ Lastly, John Fisher argues that the destruction of the Ministry was “a triumph for conservatives alarmed at the gathering momentum of reform . . . it was followed . . . by an abrupt halt and the repeal of some of the measures already enforced.”⁷

Despite this consensus, a new look at the evidence shows that both our contemporaries and those of Charles IV were unduly impressed by the murmurings of the Count of Floridablanca and Manuel de Godoy’s enemies. In particular, it is clear that the attempt to reestablish a colonial ministry in 1809 was based upon a fundamental misapprehension of how the Indies were governed after the death of Gálvez. An examination of the background to the reforms of 1787 and 1790, an analysis of the activities of the Spanish cabinet up to 1792, and an evaluation of policies articulated in this period all reveal that the governance of the Indies in the immediate post-Gálvez era was not doctrinaire, neglectful or reactionary. Rather than fearfully rejecting his achievements, Gálvez’ successors brought in the final fruits of reform only to have their work eventually destroyed by circumstances that were far beyond their control.

The reforms of 1787 and 1790 were the logical culmination of nearly nine decades of administrative development. This evolution was characterized by the transfer of power from the Hapsburg councils to the Bourbon ministries, by the specialization of each portfolio, and by the fashioning of coordinating institutions. The Ministry of the Navy and the Indies was definitively established in January 1721.⁸ To trace its powers, however, one must go back to the royal decrees of 1717 which defined the respective jurisdictions of the Council of the Indies (the via del consejo) and the king’s ministers (the via reservada). For colonial affairs these decrees spelled out the consequences of Philip V’s restructuring of the central administration of the empire: the final decline of the Council of State and its secretarías de estado; the rise in importance of the secretaría del despacho; Jean Orry’s reorganization of the latter into several specialized ministries in 1714; and the fusion of the two kinds of secretariats to create the Bourbon ministries in their final form.⁹

In January 1717, the monarch decreed that the Council of the Indies was to restrict itself to “litigation and other affairs of mere justice.”¹⁰ All administrative matters (those de gobierno) were to be left to the via reservada. In other words, the Council was reduced to the level of a law court. This original arrangement did not hold, however, because the councillors raised so many objections, demonstrating that it was unworkable. As a result the crown clarified its decree in September 1717, establishing a division of labor which, with some changes, became definitive. Leaving intact the powers already confirmed to the via del consejo, the new decree gave the ministries authority and patronage over the three “reserved” fields of war, finance, and commerce. This left the Council with renewed control of gobierno municipal and real patronato and, since the Cámara de Indias had been temporarily abolished, the right of patronage in these matters as well.¹¹

When a colonial ministry was reestablished in 1721, its powers were formally those of January 1717, but, as subsequent orders make clear, this was interpreted under the terms of the September decree.¹² War, finance, and commerce were thus both the original and the essential elements in its powers. The ministry, however, added another dimension to its authority by gradually gaining general supervision over both the Council and the Cámara. Although not codified under the designation of “grace and justice” until 1754, precedent can be found for these functions in decrees of November 1717 and June 1751.¹³ The first forbade the secretariats of the Council to send orders to the colonies in matters de gobierno, as this right henceforth belonged to the via reservada. The second ordered that all decisions needing to be signed by the king had to pass first to the minister.¹⁴ Thus the Ministry was interposed between the Council and the colonies in the first case, and between the Council and the monarch in the second. Nevertheless, despite their eventual growth and their significance in the restructuring of 1787, grace and justice always remained less important than the three “reserved” areas.

The choice of war, finance, and commerce as central to ministerial functions was not accidental. At the time of the decree of September 1717 Julio Cardinal Alberoni had sought to reassert Spain’s diplomatic vigor. He predicated his initiatives upon military strength, which in turn depended upon tax revenues that were largely derived from trade. Although Alberoni fell from power in 1719, the logic of his redistribution of authority became ingrained, for Spain could not afford the cumbersome procedures and divided counsels of the Hapsburg institutions in security-related areas. This was particularly true for the Indies which were exposed to the dangers inherent in British naval supremacy.

The search for effective and unified control in these vital spheres led not merely to the creation of the ministries but also to the gradual evolution of coordinating devices. Indeed, the two went hand in hand. As long as the Bourbon kings lacked some effective means of synchronizing the activities of their executive departments, they were tempted to allow their ministers to accumulate portfolios. This practice compromised the ideal of specialization of functions.¹⁵ At times this task of coordination was undertaken, independently of ministerial status, by royal favorites or all-powerful advisors. Such were the cases of Orry, Alberoni, and Juan Guillermo de Ripperdá. It was clear, however, that an administrative solution was preferable to such casual arrangements.

At one point Philip V tried to ensure centralized direction by dealing face-to-face only with José de Grimaldo, turning him into an unofficial chief of government.¹⁶ After the latter’s fall, the king resorted to grouping the security-related units under a single minister. Thus from 1726 to 1754 the Ministry of the Navy and the Indies was held jointly with the Ministry of Finances for seven years, the Ministries of Finance and War for seventeen additional years, and those of Finance, War, and State for two or more. In all, out of twenty-eight years in this period, the colonial ministry was united with Finance for twenty-six and with War for nineteen. Under such men as José Patiño, the marqués de Torrenueva, José de Campillo and the marqués de la Ensenada, coordination was achieved but at the cost of imposing a crushing burden on the chief minister.

In 1754 Ferdinand VI reorganized his government by giving each of the three portfolios previously held by the exiled Ensenada to different men. He also divided the colonial and naval departments into distinct units. Thus, from 1754 there were six Spanish ministries, five topically specialized (State, War, Navy, Finance and Justice), and one geographically specialized (Indies). Of course, this increased division of labor, while inherently more efficient, carried the threat of disjointed administration.¹⁷

Charles III maintained this basic system, but tried to find some effective means of coordinating the work of his ministries. He partly achieved his end by allowing some ministers to hold related portfolios. For the Indies, however, he adopted the additional device of convening an interministerial junta (at times called junta de reforma). As early as 1763, Julián de Arriaga (navy and Indies) was meeting with Gerónimo Grimaldi (state) and the marqués de Esquilache (war and finance) to discuss colonial reforms, a practice which continued after the latter was replaced by Miguel de Muzquiz. The situation between 1776 and 1783 remains obscure. Sometime after Antonio Valdés became Minister of the Navy in the latter year, however, Floridablanca generalized the practice by including all ministers in junta deliberations. Valdés ostensibly requested this of the junta, arguing that he was not able to coordinate his actions with those of the Minister of the Indies.¹⁸

In 1787 the crown took the final step. The problem of coordination was resolved by raising this extraordinary junta, which by then treated peninsular as well as colonial affairs, to the level of a suprema junta ordinaria y perpetua de estado (Junta de Estado). This body brought together all ministers on a regular basis and was effectively a Spanish cabinet.¹⁹

In the same year Charles III, believing that the work load had become excessive, divided the Ministry of the Indies into two portfolios: one for grace and justice under Antonio Porlier, the other for war, finance and commerce under Antonio Valdés. The obvious dissymmetry of this division of labor derived from the dual nature of ministerial authority itself. Indeed, Valdés gathered into his hands the three “reserved” areas of 1717, while Porlier took over the supervision of the Council and Cámara and the associated directive functions. Included among the latter was control over revenues produced by fields otherwise subject to the Council (i.e. causas contenciosas, gobierno municipal, real patronato). In any case this preliminary breakup of the Ministry constituted the first step toward its ultimate abolition.²⁰

The reorganization was completed early in the reign of Charles IV. In the decrees of 1787 the crown had already announced that it intended to bring about the administrative “union and equality” of the Indies and Spain, and that the ministerial arrangements of that year were temporary expedients.²¹ In 1790 these aspirations were formalized in a decree which abolished the colonial portfolios and gave each peninsular ministry authority over the Indies in its own sphere. Despite the seemingly far-reaching character of the changes, viewed from the perspective of the ministers themselves they were more evolutionary than revolutionary. Indeed, they were merely disburdened of the temporary charges which overwhelmed them and allowed to concentrate their attention on their principal portfolios. Floridablanca, Pedro López de Lerena, and Valdés, who had held ad interim the ministries of peninsular justice, peninsular war, and colonial war and finance, lost them. The first was given to Porlier, the proprietary minister of colonial justice, who fused the two portfolios into one imperial ministry. The second went to a new man, the Count of Campo Alange. The third was divided into two parts with colonial war going to Campo Alange and colonial finances to Lerena. This yielded a cabinet of five men: Floridablanca at State, Campo Alange at War, Valdés at Navy, Lerena at Finance, and Porlier at Justice.²²

The reforms of 1787 and 1790 represent at once the final perfected form of the Bourbon ministries and the solution to the problem of coordinating their activities. They did not, however, further weaken the Council of the Indies, for this was a process which had long since ceased. This has been denied. John H. Parry, for instance, wrote that after 1787 the Council “was consulted only formally, perfunctorily and rarely,”²³ and Clarence Haring maintained that “after the radical change of 1790, the Council of the Indies continued to serve . . . shorn of many of its former powers, but proud of its traditions.”²⁴ In fact the Council continued to be consulted meaningfully, and far from taking away more of its functions, the decrees of 1787 and 1790 did no more than confirm the orders of 1717 and 1754. As far as its overall power was concerned, the Council received its most telling blows in 1717, and by 1754 the formal erosion of authority had practically ended.

The changes made in 1787 and 1790 are the logical conclusion of a process begun when the first Spanish Bourbon created the ministries as a means of salvaging his inheritance. Clearly, there were two principles which could have been followed in organizing such departments: the topical and the geographical (although mixed systems are possible). Modern practice is to organize them topically, and this is in fact, generally, the most efficient method. For most of the eighteenth century, however, Spain could not readily dispense with a geographically defined colonial department or ministry because overseas government was sufficiently different from that of the peninsula to have been beyond the experience of most Madrid officials.

By 1787 these objections had been eliminated. José de Gálvez was sent out as visitador general to New Spain with orders to make “its political and economic system uniform with that of the metropolis;” he pursued this same task for the entire empire during his tenure as minister.²⁵ Although the necessary reforms had not been enforced everywhere, or even completed, by the time of his death, in the most important colonies most of the vital pieces were in place. Uniformity between Spain and the Indies was greatest, of course, in the military fields. The reforms of 1790 decreed that the Ministries of War and Navy each were to consist of a single department with responsibility for the entire empire. In the Ministries of Justice and Finance, however, separate departments for Spain and the Indies were maintained. It was felt that in these fields, while the two regions were sufficiently synchronized to allow for common supervision, complete fusion was still impossible. Since each department had its own oficial mayor, the result was not very different from that which had prevailed when a minister held multiple portfolios.

The most important development, however, was the creation of the Junta de Estado in 1787. Charles III himself described the new body as the fruit of his experiences and as his most valuable bequest to his subjects, the very embodiment of his enlightened government.²⁶ It was in fact the solution to a technical problem, that of coordinating the activities of topically specialized ministries. The successful trial given the new institution between 1787 and 1790 ultimately permitted the destruction of the colonial office. The Junta was, therefore, the capstone of the Bourbon reforms of imperial administration.

Thus, when the Bourbon reforms of the central administration are properly understood, the alterations of 1787 and 1790 signified not their rejection but their completion. Under these circumstances, it is not surprising that the new institutions continued the reforming work in the Indies. It is true that some of Gálvez’ innovations were destroyed, notably the independent superintendencias and double-entry bookkeeping while others, such as the intendant system, were not spread to new areas. The decrees of 1787 implicitly condemned some of the Ministry’s policies by stressing the need to economize. Yet, in spite of this, an examination of the work of the Junta de Estado does not reveal a reactionary spirit. Still less does one find neglect of the Indies.

The meetings of this body can be grouped into two eras. The first, running from 1788 through 1789, consists of Junta sessions during the period of the two colonial ministries. The second, from 1790 through 1791, is comprised of its sessions after their abolition. The appropriate minister initiated all discussions. Although charged with bringing forward all matters of general interest, or those likely to occasion an interdepartmental conflict, in practice each ministry determined what was of sufficient importance to bring before the cabinet. Thus, the frequency of discussion of European or American topics provides a rough measure of the importance accorded to colonial questions. In the same fashion, the nature of those matters discussed reveals what was considered to be critical for the monarchy.

During the two eras (1788-1789 and 1790-1791), in comparable periods, the proportion of New World business was thirty-two percent in 1788, thirty-four percent in 1789, fifty-one percent in 1790, and thirty-two percent in 1791. The exceptional amount of interest in colonial matters in 1790 results from the Nootka Sound crisis of that year. On the average, about one-third of the subjects broached in cabinet meetings concerned the colonies. Since the empire was large in comparison to Spain, this percentage might seem low. In fact, it is quite high. One must realize that the location of Madrid and the centralization of government allowed relatively unimportant peninsular affairs to come to the attention of the cabinet. In 1788, for instance, the Minister of War repeatedly brought up such matters as the construction of new barracks and the sale of old ones. Many of the purely Spanish topics discussed in the Junta were the kind of things that the superior governments of the Indies decided for themselves without reference to Madrid.²⁷

A comparison of the attention paid to American matters before and after the abolition of the colonial ministries in 1790 is also revealing. Clearly, in the aggregate, the change did not reduce the level of concern with the Indies. On the contrary, owing to the Nootka affair, it actually increased. It is true that in 1791 overall concern with the colonies declined to previous levels, but this is hardly surprising since that year saw the Oran crisis, war with Morocco, and increased concern over events in France. Nor was interest in the New World exclusively diplomatic. In 1790 and 1791, for instance, the Minister of Finance brought up about as many American as European problems. It is evident that the new imperial ministries did not neglect the colonies, and that the cabinet directed more attention to American affairs (as in 1790) or European ones (as in 1791) according to the exigencies of the moment.²⁸

The kind of American topic which interested the Junta is equally significant. Out of a total of 257 items brought before it from 1788 to 1792 no less than 134 concerned trade, navigation or fisheries. Such fields as public finance, defense, mining, diplomacy, justice, and municipal government, which are traditionally emphasized in the literature, jointly made up less than half of the colonial affairs discussed by the cabinet.²⁹ Clearly, this is a dramatic indicator of the emphasis which Floridablanca and his colleagues placed on the economic aspects of the reform movement.

The best demonstration of the continued drive for reform, however, is to be found in the policy initiatives of the post-Gálvez era. It is true that these ran in two different directions. On the one hand, there was unquestionably a tendency to retreat from some of the innovations of the great reformer, especially in fiscal matters. But on the other hand, the economic aspects of the reforms were pushed forward vigorously. On its face a contradictory policy, in fact, there was no contradiction at all. The Spanish government wished to secure the economic benefits of colonialism without having to confront an American insurrection. Compromise in one sphere was, therefore, imposed by the desire for continued advance in another.

The commitment of the Junta de Estado to trade reform and economic colonialism is obvious from its earliest recorded meetings. In the first half of 1788 it confirmed that, as projected, the liberalized trade policies in effect elsewhere in the empire were to apply with full force to such previously excluded areas as New Spain, Venezuela, and Louisiana. The form of the discussion itself is significant. Each minister brought a written opinion to the meeting, a procedure usually used only for such matters as deciding on declarations of war and considering the graver aspects of peninsular finances. The importance attached to commercial affairs in this period can hardly be overestimated.³⁰

Without doubt the most important of these early decisions was the complete and definitive extension of comercio libre to New Spain in February 1789 through the elimination of tonnage restrictions. In a sense this measure was the capstone of over twenty years of reform in Mexico. The creation of the Tribunal de Minería, the encouragement of mining through fiscal concessions, the eventual foundation of new consulados and the abolition of the commercial repartimiento, all aimed at increasing the production of minerals and exotic products and raising the level of trade between colony and metropole. As we now know, the destruction of the trade monopoly of Mexico City unleashed productive energies, opened broader markets, and capitalized the mining industry. As long as limits on the level of trade continued in effect, however, the impact of these reforms on the production of colonial goods or the consumption of Spanish ones was limited. Furthermore, administrative changes linked to the economic reforms, such as the intendencias, remained at issue. The determination of the Junta to break with the last elements of monopoly completed the new system and thereby guaranteed the survival of most of the innovations of the previous generation.³¹

The extension of comercio libre fitted in well with the Junta’s other commercial measures. It increased the number of ports open to the trans-Atlantic trade in Spain and in America, eased the importation of processing machinery and the exportation of colonial raw materials, freed the slave trade, and repeatedly encouraged peninsular industry to penetrate the colonial markets. As examples of the latter, the cabinet tried to stimulate the production of clothing in South American styles, impeded the establishment of a brewery in Louisiana in the hope of thereby encouraging the sale of Spanish beer and wine, and pointedly rejected complaints about peninsular competition lodged by the aguardiente producers of New Granada. It is hardly surprising that in addition it repeatedly forbade the entry of foreign textiles.³²

The commercial policies Floridablanca and his associates pushed were clearly mercantilist. They were designed to keep the Indies in a state of economic colonialism. Of course, this was merely a continuation of existing Bourbon plans and thus nothing new. What is important in this context, however, is precisely the continuation of long-standing tendencies and the completion of part of the reform structure in a supposedly reactionary period.

This is not to say that reaction did not exist. It manifested itself in two ways: first, in the economy drive launched soon after Valdés took up his colonial portfolio; and second, in various measures which indicated that the crown feared that colonists were being pushed too hard for safety. That the two were related is amply demonstrated by the circumstances attending the recall of visitador general Jorge Escobedo in 1787. The immediate cause of the dismissal was a struggle between Escobedo and Viceroy Teodoro de Croix over a monopoly imposed by the former on woolen and leather goods of Indian manufacture. This dispute has been characterized as “trivial,” but was it really?³³ When the Junta discussed the matter in April 1788 two letters were tabled by Valdés. The first was the message to Croix recalling and condemning Escobedo and giving high praises and the superintendencia of finance to the viceroy. This letter, however, contained several other elements. It rejected José Antonio de Areche’s suggestion that some Indian tax exemptions be abolished, overturned Escobedo’s monopoly, and ended with a general directive to the viceroy that he “not permit, directly or indirectly, that the vassals of those dominions be taxed without express orders from his majesty” whom, he was told, would so order only if it proved indispensable.³⁴

The second letter reveals that the hacendados of the Lima region and the citizenry of the city had resisted Escobedo’s monopoly. This had led to a bitter court case during which one of the Lima fiscales was driven to express some harsh sentiments about the opposition. Madrid reacted by ordering Croix to apologize in the king’s name to the defamed Peruvians!³⁵

The letter went on to inform the limeños that the behavior of the fiscal was being investigated by the Council of the Indies. The crown was obviously concerned that Escobedo’s indiscretions might provoke renewed turmoil in Peru.

Such concerns are also obvious from crown actions in Cuzco. In July 1788 the Junta discussed the mutual recriminations of the intendant and the archdeacon of the city. The situation was critical because this was a continuation of the dispute which had pitted intendant Benito de la Mata Linares against Bishop Juan Manuel Moscoso and the local establishment. The cabinet reacted by confirming the decision to create a new audiencia in Cuzco and by ordering the personnel transfers that this required. The following year the Junta considered on two separate occasions, and at some length, the final disposition of the Moscoso case which ended with his “promotion” to the Spanish archbishopric of Granada. With the previous “promotion” of Mata to the regency of Buenos Aires, all the principals had been removed from the scene without aggravating a dangerous situation.³⁶

The conversion of the colonial ministries to a policy of restraint in taxation and expenditures, and to more civil behavior towards colonists, may well have convinced some officials that the reforms could be entirely undone. But there were definite limits to reaction. Viceroy Croix, who was convinced that the clock could be turned back, asked for the abolition of the viceroyalty of the Rio de la Plata and of the intendencias, and suggested a return to the old system of collecting taxes. Valdés brought these recommendations to the attention of the Junta in January 1790. The cabinet decided not to act in such grave matters without having heard the views of Antonio Porlier, the other colonial minister, and the Council of the Indies.³⁷ Porlier, however, refused to give his opinion without first hearing the advice of the Council.³⁸ The result was that all action was suspended pending the issuance of its opinion. But the Council found itself unable to come to an immediate verdict, in part because it was beset on one side by a mass of anti-reformist documentation sent by the viceroys of Peru, and on the other by an equal mass of pro-reformist documentation sent by the Count of Revillagigedo, Viceroy of Mexico.³⁹ It was, in any case, an impossible situation since one could not separate the political from the economic impact of a decision. Lacking clear ministerial leadership, it was probably inevitable that the opposing interest groups should fight each other to a standstill in the corridors of the Council. Moreover, that body, dominated by Gálvez appointees, was aware that as long as it produced no report, no important changes would be made.

The apparent inability of the imperial government to reach a decision has been taken as a demonstration of its weakness and inefficiency. Yet, on other matters it could be decisive. Double-entry bookkeeping for instance, on which a great deal of effort had been expended, was countermanded despite howls from Madrid, Mexico City, and Lima.⁴⁰ No obstructionism was allowed. In other cases, such as those of new consulados for Havana, Veracruz, Cartagena de Indias, Santiago de Chile, and Caracas, the government moved irrevocably in 1792 and 1793, despite furious opposition from the established institutions in Lima and Mexico City. These consulados were extremely important adjuncts of comercio libre because they provided a focus for those interests which were determined to take advantage of the new policy.⁴¹ On balance, it is difficult to reject out of hand the possibility that the long agony of Croix’s proposals may have been willfully countenanced by the cabinet. It could certainly not accept the viceroy’s position without abandoning the economic reforms it was in the process of completing. Destroying the intendencias impinged on the abolition of the commercial repartimiento; eradicating the Viceroyalty of Rio de la Plata would ruin the trade of Buenos Aires; a return to the old tax-collection system would tie up capital needed for the development of mining and commerce. But a firm rejection of his report would certainly have seemed provocative to the vested interests represented by the old consulados of Peru and Mexico. Politically, it was quite expedient to allow opposition groups uselessly to try to sway the Council, particularly since, in the meantime, the reforms were slowly taking roots in the Indies.

Floridablanca was dismissed in February 1792, in part owing to the intrigues of the Count of Aranda. In keeping with its aristocratic composition, the victorious clique also destroyed the Junta and revived the old Council of State, where ministers were outnumbered by outsiders.⁴² It was not a fortunate change. The fact that the king himself presided at meetings had a profound impact. Court politics became a central concern and foreign relations were now discussed at the policy level. As a consequence, purely bureaucratic functions were eclipsed by political ones. In addition His Majesty did not like to have his time wasted. On two occasions in October 1793, for example, Council of State meetings had to be called off for lack of business. The last time as he retired, the King wondered aloud why he had not been warned beforehand.⁴³ In the time of Floridablanca such “free” days had been used to discuss general policy. Faced with such a negative royal attitude, the ministers must have been tempted to avoid “tiresome” subjects and to invent business when there was none. In any case, the Council of State does not seem to have performed its coordinating functions as effectively as the old Junta.

The palace coup of 1792 did not, however, overtly change colonial policy. The same mixture of economic reform and political prudence continued to characterize government actions, but priorities were reordered. Navigation, trade, and fisheries were discussed less often than before, while defense and security took precedence. Over half of the American topics considered by the Council of State treated defense in the Caribbean zone, and half of those were concerned with the one rebellious colony of Saint-Domingue.⁴⁴ Concern over internal security, already intense, also increased. In 1792 extensive discussions of public disturbances over the crown tobacco tax in the Philippines and Venezuela led to a decision to restructure it in the latter colony, eliminating its monopolistic aspects. In the following years such problems continued to haunt Madrid, reaching crisis proportions in 1795. That year, it was faced with insurrectionary pasquinades and publications in Mexico City, Caracas, Santa Fé, Quito, Guayaquil, Huamanga, and Cuzco.⁴⁵ Clearly, as Spain drifted into war with France and later Great Britain such short-term considerations as military operations and creole plots tended to drive all other problems before them. Reform was not rejected, it gradually faded from sight. The break, however, cannot be blamed on the death of Gálvez or the changes of 1787 and 1790.

All in all, the political climate after the death of Gálvez simply was not propitious for further alterations in colonial administration. Under the circumstances, it is highly suggestive that peninsular authorities should have been prepared to reform the Venezuelan tobacco tax but refused to protect the aguardiente producers of New Granada. From 1787 to 1792 the monarchy was determined to extend Spanish economic gains and accordingly it pushed forward the relevant patterns of the reform effort. It also tried to save as much as it could of the administrative changes, particularly those with an economic impact. Otherwise, however, it wished to avoid further provocations and to work out an accommodation both with the older vested interests and with groups spawned by the new system. It could sacrifice tax reforms, but not economic changes.

This attitude was exemplified by the very ambiguity embraced in the abolition of the Ministry of the Indies. “Union and equality” on one level meant the end of colonial status. And the promise implied by this reform was seemingly reinforced by attempts to name indianos to European jobs, and by establishing the Granada seminario for American nobles. On the other hand “union and equality” implied destroying the individuality of the overseas dominions. The true intention of the crown is revealed in its economic policies which are characterized by a will to colonize and a desire to increase American dependence. To speak of equality under these circumstances was to misdirect colonial attention away from the crown’s true course.

In noneconomic affairs Madrid did moderate its policies. Gálvez, the crown believed, had spent too much and had imposed burdens which colonials would not readily countenance. As the events in France unfolded, this latter fear increased and crown policy became even more cautious, drifting towards immobilisme after Aranda’s victory. Nothing, however, could alter the schizoid approach adopted in 1787. With the peace of Basle in 1795 the situation changed beyond recall. In the following dozen years navigation between Spain and the Indies was disrupted and the financial situation of the crown became desperate. It is in this period, not immediately following the death of Gálvez, that the end of the Bourbon reforms is truly to be found.

Author notes