Jaime Vélaz de Medrano y Barros, III Marquess of Tabuérniga

Jaime José Ignacio Vélaz de Medrano y Barros
3rd Marquess of Tabuérniga
Coat of arms of the House of Medrano
Lieutenant of the Spanish Royal Guards
MonarchPhilip V
Personal details
Born(1693-02-06)6 February 1693
Santa Eulalia de Gorgullos, Tordoia, Galicia, Spain
DiedDecember 1753
Pinto, Spain
SpousePetronila de Bracamonte y Villalón
Children4 (including Fernando Agustín Vélaz de Medrano y Bracamonte y Dávila, 15th Marquess of Cañete, Grandee of Spain, 6th Marquess of Fuente el Sol, 8th Marquess of Navamorcuende and 15th Lord of Montalbo)
OccupationSoldier, courtier, diplomat
ProfessionLieutenant of the Spanish Royal Guards, representative of the Spanish Empire to England (unofficial)

Jaime José Ignacio Vélaz de Medrano y Barros, 3rd Marquess of Tabuérniga (Santa Eulalia de Gorgullos, Tordoia, 6 February 1693 – Pinto, December 1753) was an aristocrat and nobleman from the House of Medrano. He served as Lieutenant of the Spanish Royal Guards and a respected courtier, later labeled a 'conspirator' by royal authorities for his role in a political movement critical of Queen Isabel de Farnesio's influence during the reign of Philip V. He married Petronila de Bracamonte y Villalón, the daughter of the 4th Marquess of Fuente el Sol. He played a pivotal role in secret peace negotiations between Spain and Britain during the War of Jenkins’ Ear, where he delivered British terms to First Secretary of State, Sebastián de la Cuadra y Llarena.

Birth and ancestry

Jaime Velaz de Medrano was baptized on 6 February 1693 in the parish of Santa Eulalia de Gorgullos de Tordoya, in the region of Ordes, in the kingdom of Galicia.[1] His parents were Jaime Vélaz de Medrano y Hurtado de Mendoza, II Marquis of Tabuérniga, who belonged to a family of Navarrese high nobility, and Francisca de Barros y Guillamas, Marchioness consort of Tabuérniga, who belonged to a family of Coruña nobility as they were lords of the Temple and Grajal.[1]

Jaime Vélaz de Medrano was raised until he was five years old in La Coruña, in the house of his maternal grandparents. From this age, he was claimed by his father and came to reside at court with him. When he was not yet seven, his mother died in a drowning accident in the Jarama River. He then went on to live with his uncle, Antonio, with whom he lived until he joined the army.[2]

Ancestry

Jaime's ancestry traces back to the ancient Lords of the Palace of Vélaz de Medrano in Igúzquiza. Among the direct ancestors of Jaime Vélaz de Medrano, his grandfather Antonio Vélaz de Medrano, I Marquess of Tabuérniga (Labastida, 1637 – Spa, 1683) a prominent soldier in the reign of Carlos II, Knight of the Order of Santiago, Sergeant General of Battle, he held the position of governor of Nieuwpoort in West Flanders and who in 1680 carried out a curious diplomatic initiative when negotiating with the United Provinces of the Netherlands to crown himself prince of the island of Tobago.

His great-grandfather, Pedro Vélaz de Medrano (Santo Domingo de la Calzada, 28 July 1603 – Coímbra, c. 1659), Lord of Tabuerniga, Knight of the Order of Santiago and page of King Philip III. He was a prominent sailor and soldier in the reign of Philip IV who fought in the Battle of the Dunes in 1639 and was Captain General of the Armada de Barlovento and custodian of the New Spain Fleet, but who betrayed the crown in 1648, going to France, for whose King made several corsair raids in the Caribbean.[3]

His great-great grandfather Antonio Vélaz de Medrano y Mendoza had served as a soldier in Naples and Sicily and would later become magistrate in the towns of Malaga (1609–12) and CuencaHuete (1612–14).[2]

The Marquessate of Tabuérniga

When Jaime José Ignacio Vélaz de Medrano came of age, a long lawsuit began between him and his cousin, Andrea Narcisa Vélaz de Medrano, to obtain the Marquessate.[2] In fact, his uncle was recognized as the III Marquess of Tabuérniga during his minority. This dispute would end up being resolved in favor of Andrea Narcisa, although the king did not want to completely deprive Jaime of his privileges and allowed him to be titled Marquess of Tabuérniga "for his life," although without any other right associated with the title.[2]

María Concepción de Garoña, acting as mother and legal guardian of Jacobo Ruiz de Berberana y Garoña, a resident of Anguciana (La Rioja), filed a lawsuit against Andrea Narcisa Vélaz de Medrano, Marquess of Tabuérniga, resident of Labastida (Álava) and residing in Miranda de Ebro (Burgos). The case, recorded in 1737 in the Archivo de la Real Chancillería de Valladolid, concerned the restitution of various landed estates and the title of the marquessate.[4]

Political intervention of the Marquess of Tabuérniga

Jaime José Ignacio Vélaz de Medrano, 3rd Marquess of Tabuérniga, sought to intervene in the succession crisis of Philip V out of a conviction that the monarchy, and Spain itself, were in decline under the influence of Queen Elisabeth Farnese. Far from an act of rebellion, his initiative reflected a broader struggle within the court, one which historian Pedro Luis Lorenzo Cadarso describes as "a series of conflicts that pitted different sectors of the ruling elite, both political and economic, among themselves or against the superior authority."[5]

The 3rd Marquess of Tabuérniga served as a lieutenant in the Spanish Royal Guards, an elite corps reserved for men of noble lineage, admission to which required documented purity of blood.[6] His position not only confirmed his aristocratic status but also gave him direct access to the inner circles of courtly and dynastic power.[2]

Elisabeth Farnese and the Centralization of Court Power

Elisabeth Farnese entered the Spanish court in 1715 during a time of instability and factional conflict. Philip V's poor health had weakened governance, and rival French and Spanish influences competed for control. Elisabeth quickly mastered court politics, creating a personal network of loyal administrators that replaced the older system of noble counsel.[7]

Through ministers such as José Patiño and Manuel de Benavides y Aragón, 10th Count of Santiesteban, she consolidated royal power through direct command, secrecy, and surveillance, transforming the court into an instrument of centralization.[8] Amid this expansion of control, the House of Medrano endured through figures like Pedro Medrano, Knight of the Order of Santiago, who had served as Secretary of War for the Navy and later as senior Second Official of the Secretariat of State for the Negotiation of Italy under Elisabeth Farnese. Pedro Medrano formed part of a wider Medrano juridical and administrative network that preserved the doctrinal equilibrium of the monarchy from within the very Italian and military institutions Elisabeth Farnese sought to centralize.

The Intervention of Tabuerniga

The so-called "Tabuérniga conspiracy" unfolded during one of the most politically volatile periods of 18th-century Spain. At the time, the royal court had been relocated to Seville due to the fragile health of King Philip V, who was contemplating abdication for the second time. His wife, Elisabeth Farnese, fiercely opposed any shift in control and sought to maintain her influence over the king, resisting any prospect of retirement to La Granja de San Ildefonso. Her residence became an informal center of political gravity, drawing together courtiers dissatisfied with the direction of the monarchy.[2]

In this charged environment, characterized by uncertainty and competing factions, Jaime Vélaz de Medrano conceived his plan as a strategic and loyal effort to safeguard the future of the Spanish Crown by transferring power to Prince Ferdinand. His initiative must be understood within the broader context of dynastic anxiety, institutional paralysis, and patriotic urgency.[2]

Medrano's objective

The objective, on the surface, appeared straightforward: to persuade King Philip V to relinquish the crown in favor of his son, Prince Ferdinand. For Jaime Vélaz de Medrano, 3rd Marquess of Tabuérniga, this was an act of urgent loyalty to the crown intended to rescue it from what he saw as dysfunction and decline. Convinced that Ferdinand's ascension was vital to Spain's stability, Medrano devised a bold but nonviolent plan: the prince would discreetly leave Seville under cover of night, cross into Portugal, and there receive the moral and material backing of his father-in-law, King John V, to pressure Philip into abdicating. To support this plan, Medrano drafted a compelling memorandum: a 19-page handwritten representation addressed directly to Prince Ferdinand, urging him to take up his royal destiny for the good of the nation. Far from advocating rebellion, the document was a patriotic appeal to conscience and kingship.[2]

In this notebook, Jaime Vélaz de Medrano presented the dire state of the monarchy under the name of his father, Jaime Vélaz de Medrano y Hurtado de Mendoza, the 2nd Marquess of Tabuérniga. With Dantesque overtones, he wrote:

Spain, sir, respectable patrimony and most beloved homeland of Your Majesty, groans deafly its misfortune because not even breath has been left to try at least to make its pitiful complaints heard and like a living corpse, it lives in its agonies but it lives dying…[2]

According to Jaime Vélaz de Medrano, the Spaniards would sooner endure slavery than vassalage, for:

If the slaves work, the lord supports them: but woe to the vassals! Woe to the vassals! Who sweat blood to be devoured by the insatiable rage of their ambition… The courts trade with justice; the servants of the Royal House suffer inclemency; the troops have been forced to miserable officers, full of work forced to extreme necessity, to the charitable pity of the bishops and convents; commerce suffers losses and scorn; not even the Church forgives such a voracious tooth. In short, all is pain and all is anguish.[2]

He then urged Prince Fernando to take an active part in the solution:

How long will Your Highness' dissimulation and tolerance last? All our hopes consist of Your Highness…

He then proposed the way out of the crisis:

The means is very easy. If Your Highness keeps the secret and flies one night to Portugal, everything will be achieved at once, for You will see that at once the opposite machine begins to tremble and that by returning for such a just cause the earth and the heavens will be on Your Highness' side. The way for you to go quickly and without contingency is also very easy: but nothing would be achieved without dissimulation and silence.[2]

Jaime José Ignacio Vélaz de Medrano concluded his memorial with professions of loyalty, devotion to the king and kingdom, and a tone of humility. He justified his actions with the following words:

The satisfaction of my King, the good of my country and the glory of Your Majesty, in whose defense I will be as long as I live, I willingly and voluntarily shed my blood, aspiring to no other reward than the noble interest of merit.[2]

Jaime Vélaz de Medrano's support for Ferdinand VI over Philip V was a reflection of his steadfast loyalty to the Spanish monarchy, his homeland, and the precepts of good governance. Convinced that Spain's stability required a generational transition, he acted in what he believed to be the nation's best interest. Medrano intended to deliver his representation to Prince Ferdinand personally on the night of 5 December 1730, taking advantage of a rare moment of private access to the royal family. He would never have the chance, just hours before the planned delivery, he was arrested upon leaving Seville Cathedral, where he had attended prayers. It remains unknown who betrayed his intentions or how the plot came to the attention of José Patiño, chief minister and close confidant of Queen Elisabeth Farnese.[2]

Interrogation of the Marquéss of Tabuérniga

The minister overseeing Medrano’s case sought to determine who else might have been involved in the scheme. To this end, he personally interrogated the Marquess while he was held in the prison of Gandul, but, dissatisfied with Medrano's responses, ordered his transfer to the fortress of Vélez-Málaga, where he was to await a secret and expedited trial for high treason. One of the more telling aspects of the case lies in the character of the process itself. The interrogations were conducted by Francisco Manuel de Herrera, prosecutor of the Audiencia de la Contratación and a trusted agent of José Patiño.[2]

According to Medrano, Herrera acted as "defense attorney, prosecutor, and judge" in a single role. The proceedings were marked by persistent pressure, aimed at compelling Medrano to reveal collaborators. Yet he maintained, whether out of loyalty, conviction, or strategic restraint, that he had acted alone. He further insisted that the representation was never intended for delivery, thus framing the act not as an attempted insurrection, but as a theoretical intervention motivated by concern for the Crown’s future.[2]

Medrano ultimately claimed that the memorandum was never meant for the prince, but rather for the private consideration of Fray Pablo de la Concepción, a friar whose opposition to Philip V's continued reign he sought to court and gain support. He asserted that the gesture was part of a broader effort to secure the friar's support for his intended marriage to the stepdaughter of one of the friar’s close associates, the Marquess of Villaverde. Though the explanation appeared implausible, it was sufficient to stall further interrogation. Nevertheless, Herrera relayed the details to Patiño, triggering a wider chain of consequences: Fray Pablo was imprisoned for years in the citadel of the Alhambra, and another court figure named in the seized correspondence, the musician José de Nebra was placed under extended house arrest.[2]

Courtly consequences from Medrano's intervention

The failure of Medrano's intervention had lasting consequences for the remainder of the reign of Philip V and Elisabeth Farnese. Rather than weakening the queen’s position, the fallout reinforced her political dominance and extended her influence over the king. Despite periods of instability, Elisabeth maintained de facto authority over the Spanish monarchy into the final years of Philip’s life. This consolidation was evident in the entrenchment of Jose Patino as chief political operator, the continuation of a foreign policy oriented toward Farnese dynastic ambitions in Italy, and the marginalization of opposing court factions.

The failure of Medrano's plan intensified frustration among those sympathetic to Prince Ferdinand, who viewed the direction of the monarchy with increasing concern. Throughout the 1730s, disaffected courtiers pursued discreet efforts to alter the balance of power, at times involving foreign actors such as Portugal and finding public expression in satirical publications such as El Duende. The Tabuerniga affair came to symbolize a deeper conflict over authority and the future of the Spanish Crown. In the aftermath, surveillance measures increased sharply. Jaime Velaz de Medrano remained under close observation, while the most severe restrictions were imposed on Prince Ferdinand and his household following the completion of his five year doctrinal education under Giovanni Antonio Medrano in 1734.[9]

Ferdinand VI's Political Isolation (1734)

The Representacion al Principe Don Fernando marked a decisive moment in the tension between doctrinal counsel and tightening political control at the Bourbon court. Jaime Velaz de Medrano composed the memorandum privately in 1730, addressing the prince's moral and juridical formation. The monarchy's reaction exposed growing anxiety over reformist influence and the degree to which court politics had become shaped by suspicion, factional rivalry, and the expanding authority of Queen Elisabeth Farnese and her ministers.

Following Ferdinand's education under Giovanni Antonio Medrano, historians note that from 1734 onward the prince and his wife Barbara of Braganca lived almost entirely removed from public affairs, and at times in formal disgrace, a condition attributed to the sustained influence of Elisabeth Farnese.[10] During these years Ferdinand was excluded from government, subjected to continuous surveillance, and monitored through a network of informants who reported even minor details of the couple’s daily life and health.[10]

Access to the prince's chambers was restricted to his governor, lieutenant governor, mayordomo, and a single stable boy. Identical limitations were imposed on the princess, whose attendants were reduced to her chief chambermaid, lady in waiting, mayordomo, and one cavalryman. Only the ambassadors of France and Portugal were exempt.

Princess Barbara of Braganca's Support to Prince Ferdinand

According to W. N. Hargreaves-Mawdsley, Ferdinand and Barbara of Braganca lived completely outside the course of public events, and for part of that time in disgrace, producing a reserved and enigmatic character whose underlying generosity endured despite surveillance and exclusion. Ferdinand and Queen Barbara developed a close personal reliance on one another, and her firmness and political judgment played a central role in sustaining him during this period.[10]

The prince and princess were forbidden from eating in public, attending church, or making visible public appearances. These measures were intended to insulate the monarchy from internal influence, revealing the extent to which the Tabuerniga affair had unsettled court politics. This prolonged seclusion shaped Ferdinand's temperament.[10]

Contemporary diplomatic observers described him as reserved, suspicious, and difficult to assess, despite a natural inclination toward generosity and moderation. His fear of assassination, withdrawal from court life, and reluctance to appear publicly were attributed to the conditions of enforced isolation under which he lived for more than a decade.[10] Modern historians observe that Ferdinand VI emerged from this prolonged isolation in 1746 with a character shaped by introspection and restraint rather than by the factional culture of the Bourbon court.[10]

Sir Benjamin Keene later observed that the new king would love peace as much as his father had loved war,[10] an assessment consistent with the princely formation Ferdinand received under Giovanni Antonio Medrano between 1729 and 1734.[9] The combination of doctrinal instruction, political exclusion, and personal adversity produced a monarch whose preference for moderation, peace, and justice aligned with Tomás Fernández de Medrano in his República Mista that a prince rightly instructed remains inwardly intact until the end.[11]

Prisoner at the fortress of Velez-Malaga

Jaime Vélaz de Medrano prepared for a prolonged imprisonment, but soon developed a rapport with the Alcaide of the fortress, who gradually eased the conditions of his confinement. This leniency allowed Medrano to leave the castle to attend mass and interact with members of the local nobility, subtly restoring elements of his courtly life despite official custody.[2]

Medrano and the Marquesses of Fuente el Sol

During one of his permitted outings, Medrano became acquainted with Juan Bautista de Bracamonte Dávila y Zapata, Marquess of Fuente el Sol [es]. Over time, he gained the Marquesses favor, and they eventually agreed to grant him the hand of their daughter, Ana María. Aspiring to consolidate noble alliances and inherit significant titles and estates, Medrano wrote to the King John V of Portugal, requesting him to "deign to intercede with His Majesty." Given the Portuguese origin of his earlier political maneuverings, it is likely he hoped to secure their support and protection through this union.[2]

At the time his memorial was set to arrive in Lisbon, relations between Spain and Portugal were strained. In 1735, both kingdoms had expelled their respective ambassadors, and hostilities had broken out in the region of Colonia del Sacramento, resulting in a conflict that lasted two years. In this tense climate, the Portuguese response to Jaime Vélaz de Medrano’s request for royal intercession was notably tepid. A trusted confidant of King John V advised him instead to direct his petition to King Louis XV of France, deeming it a more effective route. Medrano, however, was reluctant to pursue that course. A subsequent diplomatic reconciliation between the Spanish and Portuguese courts in April 1737 improved the atmosphere, prompting the Marquess of Tabuérniga to travel personally to Lisbon to continue pressing his case.[2]

Journey to lisbon

On 10 April 1737, the Marquess of Tabuérniga left Vélez-Málaga for Antequera "before dawn, with a servant and three horses." From Antequera, he traveled by carriage to Seville, where he embarked toward the mouth of the Guadalquivir. By sea, he reached the Guadiana River and continued by boat to Portomarino. The remainder of the journey to Lisbon was made by land.[2]

Arrival in Lisbon

In Lisbon, Tabuérniga sought out an influential contact: Francisco Xavier de Meneses, 4th Count of Ericeira, a prominent military figure during the War of the Spanish Succession. With Ericeira’s assistance, the Marquess was referred to the Jesuit priest Juan Bautista Carbone, a Neapolitan who had resided in Portugal since 1722 and was held in high regard by King João V for his expertise in astronomy.[2]

Monetary gift from King João V of Portugal

Carbone received Tabuérniga at his convent, and four days later, reiterated the message conveyed in earlier correspondence: "That he should go to France to seek protection." To soften the rejection of his request, Carbone secured from King John V of Portugal a grant of coastal aid totaling slightly more than 1,500 doubloons of sixty reales. The money was to be made available in Seville—a discreet means of encouraging the Marquess’s departure from Portuguese territory. Tabuérniga complied, retracing his steps and returning to his confinement in Vélez-Málaga, though not without collecting the Portuguese king’s monetary gift.[2]

Marriage in Gibraltar

On 11 July 1737, at 5:00 a.m., the Marquess of Tabuérniga appeared at the residence of Pedro de Bracamonte, brother of his intended bride, accompanied by Ana María herself. He insisted "she should marry immediately" and cited "deep and serious motives that obliged him to such a resolution, and that if the case seemed new, the sacrament of marriage would gild everything."[12]

Medrano's request to the king

The tone of this and other contemporary testimonies suggests the likelihood of a premature pregnancy. The immediate consequence of this action was the dispatch of a "most humble, respectful and obliging memo" to the monarchs, requesting their consent to the marriage. The sovereigns' response reflected their astonishment: "he does not understand how this delinquent could have treated his marriage [...] because, having been deprived of all communication and correspondence, the adjustment and other circumstances that are supposed seem implausible."[12]

Royal investigation

Far from granting their consent, the monarchs dispatched Pedro de la Cueva, "of the Council of His Majesty, his mayor of the crime of the Royal Chancery of Granada," to investigate the circumstances surrounding the unauthorized marriage negotiations. Cueva uncovered the lenient treatment extended to Tabuérniga during his confinement, his unauthorized communications with the court in Lisbon, and his earlier escape to the neighboring kingdom. In response, Philip V ordered the Marquess’s imprisonment to be reinforced, his isolation to be intensified, and the Alcaide—who had permitted his contact with the Marquesses of Fuente el Sol—to be incarcerated. Despite these measures, Tabuérniga, with the assistance of a servant and his brother-in-law, devised and executed an escape plan.[2]

Escape from the prison of Vélez-Malaga

Medrano escaped the fortress by lowering himself over one of the walls using a rope, having for months secured the cooperation of a bribed guard. Once outside, he made his way to the nearest port and set sail for Gibraltar, where he awaited the arrival of his future brother-in-law with his intended bride.[2]

Marriage in Gibraltar

However, a complication arose: his fiancée, Ana María, had been confined to a convent while awaiting resolution of the royal refusal. To circumvent this, Tabuérniga persuaded his future brother-in-law to bring Ana María’s younger sister, Petronila, to Gibraltar in her place. As he later justified the decision: "well, for the importance of our honor, it was the same to marry this sister as the other and, thus fulfilling the reason of state of our families, we did not lack the obedience of our sovereigns, well, for this lady, of course permission had been requested, their majesties had not denied it."[2]

Immediately after arriving in Gibraltar, Don Jaime and Dona Petronila were to be married in the Catholic church of the British colony of Gibraltar.

Children

His four children would be born in London:

His heir and son Fernando Agustín Vélaz de Medrano y Bracamonte y Dávila (London, 23 December 1742-Cape of Good Hope, 22 November 1791), was a Spanish nobleman, aristocrat and military man, 4th Marquess of Tabuérniga, 15th Marquess of Cañete, Grandee of Spain, 6th Marquess of Fuente el Sol, 8th Marquess of Navamorcuende and 15th Lord of Montalbo, known primarily for his friendship with the literary man José Cadalso. In 1786 Fernando Vélaz de Medrano inherited the illustrious Marquessates of Fuente el Sol, Cañete and Navamorcuende on the death of his uncle Agustín de Bracamonte. The Marquessates of Navamorcuende and Cañete were associated with the greatness of Spain.[2]

Journey to Lisbon

His first destination away from Gibraltar was Portugal, where he was coldly received. The Portuguese neighbour did not wish to irritate the kings of Spain in a period in which this bilateral period had been presided over by tension and even by war in Europe and in the colonies.[2]

Journey to london

From Lisbon, he left for London. There Don Jaime Velaz de Medrano would find a place to live, in a country in the midst of a pre-war climate just a few months before the outbreak of the War of Jenkins' Ear with Spain. In London, Tabuérniga saw his advantage over the ignorance of the British, he pretended to be a Grande de España (his descendants will actually enherit this title), an unjust victim of the Queen's despotic policies and, more importantly, a magnificent investment for the future given his intimacy with Prince Ferdinand, for whom, Medrano claimed, he had experienced all his calamities, and with whom he could negotiate, once he acceded to the throne, a lasting peace treaty uniting the two crowns. The English authorities believed Jaime to a certain extent. In addition, the Marquis knew how to win the will of ministers and courtiers.[2]

Pensions from the Monarchs of Great Britain

His personal charisma won him the friendship of the King of Great Britain and the Prince of Wales, the heir to the throne of England, to such an extent that the latter granted him a pension of 400 pounds for his subsistence. In this way, Jaime Vélaz de Medrano y Barros supplemented his income, in addition to another pension of 600 pounds, in this case from King George II himself, to supplement his income.[2]

Medrano's peace negotiations between Britain and Spain (1746)

Following his years in exile and unofficial service in London, Jaime Vélaz de Medrano became a well-connected intermediary between the Spanish and British courts. His close ties to British ministers—including the Duke of Newcastle and the Prince of Wales—as well as his earlier efforts to defend Spanish interests abroad, positioned him as a valuable conduit for back-channel diplomacy. By the mid-1740s, amid the ongoing War of Jenkins’ Ear and growing exhaustion on both sides, British officials viewed Medrano as a credible figure through whom peace negotiations could discreetly be initiated.[2]

English diplomacy

With ambassadors withdrawn on both sides, Medrano assumed the role of an unofficial Spanish representative in London. He maintained correspondence with the Marquess of San Gil, Spain’s diplomat in the Hague, and intervened with British authorities to advance Spanish interests. As hostilities continued, he played a key role in facilitating negotiations, influencing Lord Carteret, and securing several prisoner exchanges in 1744 and 1745.[2]

Negotiation's with Sebastian de la Cuadra, First Secretary of State

In 1746, Thomas Pelham-Holles, 1st Duke of Newcastle, then serving as Southern Secretary and directing British foreign policy, approached Jaime Vélaz de Medrano, Marquess of Tabuérniga, with a proposal to initiate secret peace negotiations with Spain. Jaime Vélaz de Medrano accepted the mission and, in August of that year, established contact in Lisbon with Spain’s First Secretary of State (Prime Minister), Sebastián de la Cuadra Medrano y Llarena, 1st Marquess of Villarías, presenting the proposed British terms. With Philip V recently deceased and Ferdinand VI newly ascended to the throne, Medrano found himself in favor at the Spanish court, and Villarías indicated that Spain was prepared to accept the terms.[13]

The talks ultimately faltered over disagreements concerning the future of Naples and broke down, though Spain remained open to further negotiations at a later stage. While the Lisbon mission ended in failure, Jaime Vélaz de Medrano maintained considerable influence—so much so that the Austrian envoy, Count Philipp von Orsini-Rosenberg, signed a memorandum advocating for his appointment as Spain’s First Secretary of State. Medrano remained in Lisbon, hopeful of securing the position, but his aspirations were ultimately unfulfilled.[14] Instead, he laid the diplomatic groundwork for the official Spanish envoy, Sir Benjamin Keene, who would later arrive to lead formal negotiations.[2]

The Marquess of Tabuérniga became an asset within the Duke of Newcastle’s extensive intelligence network, serving as an informant on Newcastle’s political rival, Lord Carteret, and other key opposition figures.[15] A nonconformist by nature, the Marquess of Tabuérniga leveraged his proximity to the British court to surveil the Prince of Wales and his inner circle, relaying sensitive information to the Duke of Newcastle, one of Britain’s leading ministers. The outbreak of war between Spain and Britain only heightened his relevance.[2]

Return to London

Upon his return to London, José de Carvajal asked Jaime Vélaz de Medrano to assist Ricardo Wall, a diplomat newly appointed to negotiate peace between Spain and Britain. However, Medrano—harboring hopes that he himself would be chosen for the role—grew resentful and began to undermine Wall’s efforts. It was Wall who ultimately advocated for Medrano’s repatriation to Spain. In the years that followed, Medrano continued to seek recognition and office, petitioning Carvajal and Zenón de Somodevilla, Marquess of Ensenada, for appointment to an embassy—without success.[2]

Ensenada, known for his caution, did not support the request. Instead, Sir Benjamin Keene proposed assigning Tabuérniga a minor military governorship. Aware of Medrano’s declining prospects, Keene advised resignation, remarking: "Something will be done with him (Medrano), whether to his satisfaction or not, neither you nor I can imagine it, but if he is wise, he should be as happy here as Spain will make him, but with no illusions of ever seeing again the days he spent in England." Keene believed the Spanish Crown had no intention of continuing the generous pensions Medrano had received in Britain.[2]

Extended Pension

On 13 June 1749 Ensenada told Sir Benjamin Keene that the king had agreed to grant the Marquess:

...the same pension he enjoyed in England (...) as a temporary provision for him until he was employed in the Master's service.

The astute ambassador immediately suspected that Ensenada was referring only and exclusively to the 600 pounds solely. The minister de la Ensenada told Keene at Court he had just come from their Catholic Majesties of Spain, who had granted the same pension to Tabuérniga that he enjoyed in England:

Keene had an opportunity, as he always sets me by him, to fish what the pension meant, and he found it was the £600 per annum the King gave the marques, exclusive of the £400 he received from the Prince.[16]

Despite efforts to secure a higher pension—including diplomatic maneuvers by the Portuguese ambassador—these attempts ultimately failed, leaving Medrano in a precarious financial situation. With Spain assuming partial responsibility for his support, London was relieved of its previous pension obligations. However, this arrangement proved insufficient. Soon after, the Marquess of Tabuérniga confided to his English correspondent, John Roberts, that he was in such dire financial straits that he had no choice but to reside in Villaverde, a small village outside Madrid, in the palace of the Marquess of Fuente el Sol. This forced exile kept him away from the court and the levers of power, while he remained burdened by outstanding debts in London—particularly those owed to the gentleman Ossorio—for which he still hoped to receive continued support from the English pension.[2]

Death

Jaime sent Letters to Carvajal, Ensenada, Ordeñana and even to the confessor Rávago, trying to gather support. In these dealings, Jaime was surprised by death in 1753. He died as a result of a tabardillo (A form of murine typhus that occurs in Mexico), in his prime, in the town of Pinto, near Madrid.[2]

A few days later, Carvajal gave a curious order to one of his subordinates. He told him to go to Villaverde to see the widowed Marchioness of Tabuérniga. The king ordered that all the papers of the deceased Marquess of Tabuérniga be collected and bring them to his power to keep them away from public business. Even after his death, Jaime continued to make the Spanish chancellery tremble with the unconfessable secrets that could be contained in his writing office. Jaime never acknowledged accomplices in a clear-cut way, but it is difficult to imagine that there were none. The fact that he tried to exert epistolary pressure on certain occasions on Don Carlos de Arizaga, lieutenant of Fernando VI while he was prince, it is suspected that this personage, or even his superior, the Count of Salazar, were aware of his intrigues and encouraged them.[2]

References

  1. ^ a b "Tabla genealógica de la familia de Medrano, marqueses de Tabuérniga. [Manuscrito]". www.europeana.eu. Retrieved 5 August 2024.
  2. ^ a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z aa ab ac ad ae af ag ah ai aj ak al Tellez, Diego (1 January 2015). "La conspiración del marqués de Tabuérniga". Cuadernos Jovellanistas. De la Ilustración a la Modernidad.
  3. ^ Bibliotheca Americana et philippina. [Vol. 1, no. 3] https://quod.lib.umich.edu/p/philamer/AEZ2084.0001.003?rgn=main;view=fulltext
  4. ^ Government of Spain. https://pares.mcu.es/ParesBusquedas20/catalogo/description/12718676
  5. ^ Pedro Luis Lorenzo Cadarso, Fundamentos teóricos del conflicto social, madrid, Siglo XXI, 2001, pp. 53–54.
  6. ^ Francisco Andújar Castillo, «Élites de poder militar: las Guardias Reales en el siglo XVIII», en José Luis Castellano, Jean-Pierre DEDIEU y maría Victoria LÓPEZ-Cordon (eds.), La pluma, la mitra y la espada. Estudios de Historia Institucional en la Edad Moderna, madrid, marcial Pons, 2000, pp. 65–94
  7. ^ VÁZQUEZ-GESTAL, PABLO (1 June 2009). "'The System of This Court': Elizabeth Farnese, the Count of Santiesteban and the Monarchy of the Two Sicilies, 1734–1738". The Court Historian. 14 (1): 23–47. doi:10.1179/cou.2009.14.1.002. ISSN 1462-9712.
  8. ^ Bourbon Reforms and State Capacity in the Spanish Empire Giorgio Chiovelli, Leopoldo Fergusson, Luis R. Martínez, Juan David Torres, and Felipe Valencia Caicedo March 2024
  9. ^ a b Marías Franco, Fernando (2005). "Entre Sevilla y Nápoles: Juan Antonio Medrano, Ferdinando Sanfelice y los Borbones de España de Felipe V a Carlos III". Atrio. Revista de Historia del Arte (in Spanish) (10–11): 5. eISSN 2659-5230. ISSN 0214-8293.
  10. ^ a b c d e f g Hargreaves-Mawdsley, W. N. (1979), Hargreaves-Mawdsley, W. N. (ed.), "The Reign of Fernando VI (1746–59)", Eighteenth-Century Spain 1700–1788: A Political, Diplomatic and Institutional History, London: Palgrave Macmillan UK, pp. 85–98, doi:10.1007/978-1-349-01803-1, ISBN 978-1-349-01803-1, retrieved 3 December 2025{{citation}}: CS1 maint: work parameter with ISBN (link)
  11. ^ Fernández de Medrano, Tomás (1602). República Mista (in Spanish). Madrid: Imprenta Real.
  12. ^ a b Memorial dirigido a la reyna…, Biblioteca Real, Mss, II, 1.027.
  13. ^ Lodge p.203-04
  14. ^ Lodge p.206-07
  15. ^ Lodge p.294
  16. ^ Keene to Castres, 16 June 1749, Richard Lodge (ed.), The private..., p. 139. The French Consul Partyet reported to Minister Rouillé on July 21, Archives de la Défense, Marine, B7 369.

Further reading