The Conversation
I. Beginnings
The benefits of travel
HB: So let me begin by asking the obvious question that you address straight away in your book, History in the Making: why Spain?
You mentioned that your interest in Spain began in an accidental way when you first encountered the country on an undergraduate summer road trip.
Iād like you to expand on that a bit while keeping one question in mind, which is, did you choose Spain or did Spain choose you?
JE: I think on the whole itās fair to say that Spain chose me. I went to Spain for the first time in the summer of 1950, a long vacation from Cambridge, my first long vacation as a Cambridge undergraduate. Iād seen an advertisement in the university newspaper, Varsity, which said that there was this old army truck that was going to Spain with a group of people and that there were one or two places still available.
So I decided to sign up. And we went off in July for a six week trip right round the Iberian Peninsula. Like others in the group, I think, I was overwhelmed by this country that was totally new to me. Iād been brought up during the war and hadnāt traveled abroad. To see this fantastic country with the parched landscape of Castile in the middle of the very hot summer, to go round and see these extraordinary cities like Toledo and Segovia and Salamanca, which are incredibly beautiful, and then to go to the Prado museum and be overwhelmed, particularly by the paintings by VelĆ”zquez (Iām very interested in paintings, Iāve always had a response to art, I suppose)āall those things particularly gripped me.
Then when I came back to Cambridge, where I was reading European and British history, I became very interested in following up one of the portraits by VelƔzquez in the Prado: the fantastic equestrian portrait of the Count-Duke of Olivares.
Olivares was the first minister and the favourite of Philip IV from 1621 until he fell from power in 1643. Those were the last 20 years of Spainās greatness as the dominant power in the Europe of the 16th and early 17th centuries.
I thought that Iād like to know more about this man, but I found really very little and rather conventional stuff about him in the textbooks on European history. So I thought to myself, If I ever become a professional historian of European historyāI had no knowledge of whether I was going to be or not at that stageāthen Iād like to know more about this man and his policies.
Thatās really how it all started: I was gripped both by a country and an individual.
HB: I see. But Iād like to go back to this trip for just a moment. Here you are, youāre an undergraduate, you just finished your first year and thereās this opportunity to go bombing around the Iberian Peninsula in an army truck. Whatās that all about? I mean, I donāt remember such opportunities when I was an undergraduate. Were you supposed to be doing anything? Or were you justā
JE: No. This was our vacation.
HB: So who was driving the truck?
JE: Another undergraduate.
HB: And how many of you were there?
JE: There must have been ten or eleven.
HB: All of this brings me back to this question of Why Spain?
So here you are, an undergraduate student, and you think, āOh, Spain is an interesting placeā because youāve had this eye-opening experience touring the Iberian Peninsula in a truck over a summer. Was it then that you first saw this portrait of the Count-Duke Olivares?
JE: I saw it for the first time on that trip, yes, because of course I was looking at all the VelĆ”zquez in the Prado. But whether it really seized me at that moment particularly, Iām not sure. I think it probably did, but you know, I sort of buried it somewhere and then came back to it later on.
HB: You also talked about how you were tempted to specialize in British history towards the end of your studies, but you recognized that there were tactical reasons for not doing so: the landscape was very crowded in British history and it was relatively wide-open for Spain. But nonetheless, I could imagine that you might have developed an interest in Spain resulting from this trip, but then eventually drift off into something quite different: medieval history, Renaissance history, Italian history, whatever.
But thatās not what happened, which is really at the heart of my question of whether you just happened to encounter Spain serendipitously through this one occasion, or whether, in fact, there was and is a particular resonance you felt with the culture, the attitudes, the people.
In History in the Making, you refer to personal parallels: you talk about some similarities of countries in decline between 1640s Spain and what you were living through in post-war Britain.
In short, was there a real deep connection to Spain that you think was waiting to be explored? In other words, might it be that even had you not gone on this particular trip you would have eventually wound up as a Spanish historian anyway? Or was it just one of these things where had you taken a trip to Italy at the timeāor to Venezuela or to Japanāyour career might well have gone off in a completely different direction. Obviously you canāt answer this question perfectly accurately, but what do you think?
JE: All these elements youāve mentioned come into play, and came into play: I did go to Italy the following year; and although I was enormously impressed by Italian Renaissance buildings and paintings, it didnāt for some reason have the same impact on me as Spain. I donāt know: had I been to Italy first, itās conceivable, I suppose, that it might have been the other way round. So many Italian specialists donāt react to Spain. They feel itās inferior in some way.
So thereās a possibility there was chance in all that, but it may be that there was something of the austerity of the country that gripped me. I suppose that Iām naturally a fairly austere person in some ways, in my tastes and so forth. I think that set me off.
And then the fact that this was a country that was just emerging from the Civil War. It was desperately impoverished, a very repressive regime, a country that British historians were refusing to visitāthose who had lived through, and remembered, the Spanish Civil Warāso that, in a sense, it was an open field.
I was always particularly attracted by the early Modern period, the 16th and 17th centuries of European history. I think that all those elements combined and suggested: hereās a wonderful field, itās not being worked on much by Anglo-American historians. And as I found out later, it wasnāt being seriously worked on by many Spanish historians either because they simply didnāt have the opportunity to work in the archives. They were desperately cash-strapped and most of them didnāt have time for research, although there were a handful of very good historians in Spain working under very difficult circumstances.
In a sense I was enormously privileged. As soon as I started my research I found I had a field open to myself, on a century that had been neglected by Spanish historians because it was traditionally seen as a century of decline after the great age of Charles V and Philip II. Philip II died in 1598 and then it seemed to be downhill all the way.
I thought, There must be something here, especially with all the brilliance of Spanish civilization of that period: the great painters like VelƔzquez, ZurbarƔn and so on, and the marvellous literature.
It was thus a very rich field, potentially, both for somebody interested in what happens when a great power appears to reach its peak and then to start going downhill, and the conjunction of that with an enormous artistic efflorescence at a ...