These rulings set the scene for the crackdown in 1567, when even more comprehensive restrictions on Morisco life were imposed in Granada. First, the legislation addressed those who made clothes. Henceforth, “no one among the newly converted in the said kingdom or among their descendants would be able to make or cut new almalafas or marlotas or any other types of shoes or clothes that were used or worn in the time of the Moors. And any new clothes that are made must conform to the styles that are worn by Old Christians, namely mantos and sayas.” The edict went on to lay out penalties, in prison terms and monetary fines, for first, second, and third offenses. Next, it addressed those who wore almalafas and marlotas, and permitted (once again) a grace period that allowed one year of further wear for fancy silk garments and two years for ordinary unornamented clothing. After that, nobody could wear such clothes, and they would be liable for the same penalties as those imposed on tailors. Finally, even while women continued to wear their almalafas during the grace period, they must be sure that their faces remained uncovered.31
This, then, was the situation that Francisco Núñez Muley was called on to address in his memorandum to the Audiencia in Granada, and which led him to try to disentangle the bond between religion and clothing styles. Ultimately, this was a lost cause, but the strategies of his argument illuminate various sides of the debate over Morisco clothing: religious, cultural, moral, economic, and visual. Núñez Muley began by reviewing the history of restrictions on clothing, going back to Queen Juana’s attempts to prevent tailors from making clothes in traditional styles and other early sixteenth-century decrees “prohibiting the wearing, weaving, and elaboration of Morisco clothing.”32 These rulings were never implemented, he says, not because of Morisco intransigence, but because Old Christian leaders of the city were either unaware of the new laws, or were opposed to them, or restrictions were suspended in return for payment. At the same time, from an economic perspective, people recognized that “overwhelming harm would be done to the natives by taking away their traditional style of dress, and great injury would also be done to those merchants who have invested their wealth in purchasing cloth for such clothing.”33 Pressing this fiscal argument, Núñez Muley estimated that 150,000 people would be required to purchase new clothes, of whom only a small fraction (he claims four or five thousand) would have the money to do so. Another option might be to cut up Morisco clothes and sew them together again as Christian-type garments, but the differences in the two styles made this impracticable. In the end, he concluded, lots of perfectly good clothes would have to be thrown away, and this (to make one last compelling point) would “greatly diminish royal rents as well as all things related to the taxes paid to the Royal Crown.”34
The primary issue that Núñez Muley had to contend with was the longheld correlation between clothing styles and religious faith. As he argued, “the prelates contend that the preservation of the traditional style of dress and footwear of the natives of this kingdom is tantamount to a continuation of the ceremonies and customs of the Muslims. I can only say, My Lord, that in my modest judgment (which has nonetheless helped me to reach old age) these reports are wholly without merit.”35 This launches him into his argument (quoted at the start of this chapter) that traditional clothing styles were in fact merely an expression of regional identity, not religious affiliation. In support of this, he points out that clothing styles vary between different regions of Castile and in other Christian kingdoms and provinces, just as styles differ between Granada, Morocco, and Turkey, even though all inhabitants of the latter two lands are Muslim, so “it follows that one cannot establish or state that the clothing of the new converts is that of Muslims.” Furthermore, Christians from Jerusalem have been seen “wearing clothing and head coverings similar to what is worn in the Maghreb and resembling in no way what is worn in Castile—and yet they are Christians.”36
Finally, regarding style, he observes that fashions change over time and thus modern Morisco everyday clothes were much closer to Castilian styles (being shorter, lighter, and cheaper) than they had been at the start of the century. This is in contrast to costly festive garments, only brought out for weddings and celebrations, which—he admits—tend to be carefully preserved and passed down from generation to generation.37 New Christian men had quickly adopted new styles and now “wear wholly Castilian clothing. If the natives’ hearts were truly obstinate, then they would no doubt think that changing their style of dress would compromise their religion … and yet the men do not dress now as they used to.” According to Núñez Muley, this shift was a relatively easy process since male clothes and shoes wear out quickly and need to be regularly replaced in any case, and “seeing that the Castilian style of dress is better and more suited to men … they began to wear Castilian clothing as they do today by their own free will and without any complaint whatsoever. This has been the custom here for over forty years,” despite which New Christians have not yet received any relief from the special taxes and restrictions that still set them apart from Old Christians.38 Women’s fashions were a different matter, and traditional styles persisted into the later sixteenth century, especially wearing the distinctive and enveloping almalafa, and Núñez Muley spoke forcefully about the benefits of modesty and protection, afforded to both Old and New Christian women, provided by covering their heads and faces.39
Underlying all of Núñez Muley’s arguments were the assumptions that local styles differed and fashions changed over time. He does not question the fact that clothing types common in Granada were unlike the fashions of Castile, and that these distinctions played a strong role in visual identity—whether this identity was interpreted as religious or regional. He also makes strong claims about personal choice and free will, suggesting that people wear certain clothes because they are comfortable, fashionable, or affordable, not merely because church or state sumptuary laws require adherence. As in the rest of his memorandum, Núñez Muley makes the case for the weight of tradition, local (“native”) identity, and the practical aspects of daily life over those of religious belief in influencing the clothing choices of New Christians. Núñez Muley’s argument was that people in different regions will naturally look different, regardless of religion, while people sharing regional identity will gradually come to share vestimentary traditions over time (whether Christians in Jerusalem wearing local styles, or New and Old Christian women in Granada veiling their faces). Thus, the difficulty in Granada was merely that coalescence of dress had not yet happened, because habit and economic disincentive had so far led many New Christians—especially women—to preserve their long-held regional fashions.
Núñez Muley’s memorandum had no apparent effect in mitigating contemporary edicts against wearing almalafas, marlotas, and other elements of Morisco dress. But it did not fall on entirely deaf ears, since Luis del Mármol Carvajal mentioned Núñez Muley’s appeal in his history of the Morisco rebellion in 1568.40 Diego Hurtado de Mendoza went further, in his more sympathetic history of the same wars, by elaborating Núñez Muley’s arguments about regionalism in the voice of a fictional Morisco “of very great natural authority and ripe and mature counsel,” who pointed out that “they order us to leave off our Moorish clothes and dress in the Castillian manner. Even amongst the Christians, the Germans dress in one manner, the French in another, the Greeks in another, the friars in quite a distinct manner and the Christian boys dress quite differently from the Christian men. Amongst the Christians, each nation, each profession, each group and rank and station of mankind has a distinct way of dressing, and they are all Christians, and we are Moors and so we dress in the Moorish fashion: it is as if they wish us outwardly to conform even when we are not conforming in our hearts.”41 One might think that this argument would have had a certain logical traction, because it was objectively true and would appeal to the professed rationalism of contemporary thought. Nevertheless, it failed to change assumptions, based on customs and legislation that had been firmly in place for many centuries, that Christians and Muslims did in fact dress differently because of their different religious traditions.
*