The Marquis’s Banquet and the Debt of an Empire
Juan entered the Marquis’s estate and was surprised by three things.
The first was the furniture. Despite the royal edicts demanding austerity, the house was filled with nothing but heavy, solid wood furniture—stark, devoid of any decoration, and utterly grim.
The second was the way the Marquis treated his servants. It was an intimate, familiar style, as if he were speaking to a long-serving butler or a nanny who had raised him.
And the third was that the food was truly delicious.
The bread itself was different. Great nobles usually ate only the soft white crumb, discarding the crust. But Juan found himself captivated by the flavor of the crust on the "Ashless Bread."
The first course was served. The Spanish style of dining—the surtido—was quite different from the dainty, slow-paced courses or the low-class buffets of other lands; it was a grand display where a variety of well-prepared dishes were laid out on a large table all at once.
Of course, there were still rules and etiquette for the order of consumption. A Spanish banquet typically transitions slowly from cold, acidic dishes to warm ones. The Marquis’s main theme was "Tench."
Known as the fish beloved by the great Emperor Charles V, the tench is hailed as the most aristocratic fish in all of Spain. This fish, which survives even in the muddiest waters, is armed with a mucus rich in antibacterial properties, allowing it to live when trout, carp, and other fish perish. In the fish-scarce interior of Spain, the tench was effectively the only fresh fish available to eat on days of abstinence.
There was Tench Escabeche, marinated in vinegar and saffron. The sour taste of the tench, pickled and firm, awakened the palate and made the stomach growl. The unique, sweet acidity of the white wine vinegar demanded a second helping from Juan, who had intended to taste only a single bite.
Next was the tench jelly. The tench, its earthy scent completely removed, had been boiled thoroughly with spices and strained through cheesecloth. The bouncy texture of the aspic was like a giant breaking out of a prison—a truly explosive flavor.
-Crunch!
"Wait, what!!??"
The fried tench, cooked in olive oil, yielded lightly to Juan’s knife, revealing the fluffy flesh hidden within. Juan barely managed to suppress the urge to abandon his noble decorum and devour that crispy skin. He settled for a tiny piece, placing it in his mouth and quietly chewing, savoring the texture of the crust as it crackled between his teeth.
"Ah, that was coated in starch and double-fried. I first coated it in a mixture of fine flour and egg yolks, then applied breadcrumbs to ensure the essence of the tench could not escape. Your Excellency."
"Hah! The Marquis has quite the refined palate for gastronomy."
"My wife enjoys tench, so I have naturally developed a bit of an appreciation for it myself."
As the Marquis glanced at his wife, Juan raised his glass slightly toward the healthy, beautiful woman.
The Marquis continued, looking at Juan.
"If only I had the pepper you are going to send, I could have prepared a dish more befitting the dignity of a great noble. My chef was quite saddened that there was no pepper in the manor."
"Hahahaha, do not worry about pepper. I made that decision a long time ago."
It was not formal for the Marquis to explain such things himself, but Juan, already in high spirits from the delightful meal, felt nothing but pure happiness. The sauce, a mixture of reduced wine, roux, and acidity, paired perfectly with both the fried exterior and the tender flesh inside.
"Mmm! I am very much looking forward to the next course."
-Clap, clap
At the Marquis’s light applause, servants appeared with practiced grace and efficiently cleared the dishes. Then, the second course followed. Hot dishes were brought out.
The first to captivate Juan with the scent of rising steam, saffron, and cinnamon was the Tench Potaje. This thick stew was made by mashing tench meat and boiling it with almond flour, toasted breadcrumbs, and wine. The intense aroma and the characteristic yellow hue could only be achieved by adding plenty of saffron and cinnamon. It was a formal, gourmet dish that a true Grandee would enjoy.
There was grilled tench with agraz sauce—the freshest sauce made by boiling the juice pressed from grapes—which, when paired with the wild, grilled fish, awakened the primal instincts of a "hunter."
Then came the Tencas Rellenas. The fish were gutted, deboned, and stuffed with a fine mince of egg yolks, rosemary, and eel meat. The stuffed tench were sewn back up and roasted in the oven, offering both a crispy skin and a moist, flavorful interior.
The tench soup, steeped in wine, was both incredibly clear and incredibly rich—a contradictory delight contained in a single bowl.
"Mmm!"
Juan felt a sense of awe at the Marquis’s banquet, which seemed determined to show the absolute limits of what could be done with a tench. To take the constraint of a meatless day and turn it into a feast using only one type of fish, while ensuring each dish had a unique flavor and meticulous preparation, was no small feat. This banquet alone proved how thorough the Marquis—or his steward—truly was.
When the third course, the dessert, arrived, it was a feast for the eyes.
The Mazapán, made by kneading almond flour and sugar, had been sculpted to resemble individual tench scales, with a single peppercorn placed where the eye would be.
As Juan reached for the aged Manchego cheese and Membrillo, the Marquis spoke.
"This was my wife’s favorite. Hahaha."
This dessert, consisting of thin slices of hard sheep’s milk cheese layered with sweet quince jelly, truly captured the essence of the Kingdom of Castile.
There was also white bread topped with a dough made of flour, butter, and honey—a foreign bread the Marquis called "Soboro." It was unfamiliar, but it was a fine choice to enjoy alongside the crust of the "Ashless Bread."
The banquet concluded with a medicinal wine, boiled with sugar, cinnamon, ginger, and "pepper," then served chilled.
"Marquis. I have eaten tench many times in my life, but this is the first time I have had such excellent tench."
"Did it please you? It is a specialty of this land that everyone enjoys, Your Excellency."
"Hahaha, I am tempted to take your chef with me, Marquis."
"Hahahaha."
After the banquet, it was decided that the pepper trade would be conducted on a "regular" basis. The details of how much pepper would be sold each month and what would be received in return were already being handled by the Marquis’s steward and the Duke’s Ribeiro.
It was the authority of the Marchioness, the mistress of the house, to stamp the formal contract. She applied the seal with antique grace.
"I can feel the child moving."
As she stood up and spoke, Juan watched her leave the banquet hall, offering prayers for God’s blessing and protection.
Setting that aside, Juan felt the time had finally come to satisfy his curiosity, and he asked directly.
"I have something urgent to discuss. The Marquis’s business will surely not escape the notice of those greedy tongues in Madrid."
The answer was shocking.
"It does not matter. My business is already structured so that half of my profits are paid directly to the Royal Court."
"What? What kind of nonsense is that?"
Half of his profits paid to the Royal Court? Was he being bled dry by taxes to that extent!
Only then did all the pieces of the puzzle fall into place for Juan. The Tercio veterans he met on the farm, the estate capable of housing regiment-sized units every day, the villages that felt suspiciously like military camps. While the Portuguese were just talking big about "Is this a rebellion?", the power players in the heartland had already drawn their swords, ready for the situation to explode at any moment!
"No, no. Your Excellency, I think there is a misunderstanding."
Seeing the Marquis’s flustered reaction, Juan understood the situation perfectly and shook his head.
"No. I, too, am well aware of the tyranny in Madrid, so I understand your heart well. And you need not speak so stiffly; please, speak comfortably, Marquis Juan."
When Juan mentioned the tyranny of Madrid, the Marquis’s face turned red as he spoke.
"That bald man, Olivares, is indeed a tyrant. He forces people to buy bonds and then demands silver for taxes—it is surely God’s will that his hair ran away from his head!"
"Indeed! It is a true saying that there is no man who loves freebies who doesn't lose his hair."
"Exactly! Do you know this? When I told them in the warehouse that I wouldn't accept royal bonds, they made such a fuss, calling me disloyal and a traitor. So I offered to accept them at an 80 percent discount, and they complained that even that wasn't enough!"
No... shouldn't they be grateful to have them accepted at that price in this country? Juan offered words of comfort to the indignant Marquis.
"That bald thief of the century, trying to eat the fruit without even peeling the skin—he has no conscience! You have suffered much, Marquis."
"Anyway, since cash isn't coming in, I’ve been handling the situation by deducting taxes and offsetting the forced 'donations' by incinerating those bonds."
Since they couldn't collect taxes, demanding "donations" was a long-standing specialty of the Spanish Royal Court.
"But isn't it a huge loss to accept those toxic bonds and even incinerate them?"
At that, the Marquis let out a deep sigh.
"Have you heard how much debt this country was saddled with when the late King passed away?"
"I heard it was around 100 million ducats."
A ducat is a gold coin. Based on the 21st-century gold price of about 120,000 won per gram, the gold value alone is about 40 trillion won. It’s a bit different from just saying it's the value of a large corporation.
The Spanish Empire’s annual budget was 10 to 15 million ducats, so if the debt alone was 100 million ducats, how much would the interest be?
Unlike the Asiento, a short-term bond with interest rates reaching 40 percent, the long-term Juro bonds were slightly better, at 5 to 10 percent.
In other words, on 100 million ducats, the interest alone would be around 8 million ducats. Olivares had been shedding tears of blood trying to reduce the Asiento, but he hadn't been able to touch the Juro at all!
Olivares had tried to force a freeze on Juro interest at 5 percent, but he had received a "final warning" from Genoa. This insane empire was being crushed to death by the debt it had incurred itself.
"You know that Spanish Empire bonds are selling on the market for about 15 to 30 percent of their value, right? I have a conscience, so I set the discount rate at 80 percent instead of 85! But that bald thief Olivares wants me to lower it to 50 percent! Does he expect me to dig up the ground to run a business?"
"Hmm! That is true."
The Marquis, who laughed while saying, "Well, I suppose I am digging up the ground to run a business," said to Juan:
"I heard that Your Excellency is looking for a good investment opportunity."
"Mmm. Our Braganza family is always thirsty for sound investments."
At Juan’s words, the Marquis sipped his wine and said:
"How about investing in me?"
Gasp!
Juan was startled. Didn't that mean joining the "rhythm of rebellion"? It was too dangerous.
"No. As a loyal subject of the Royal Court, I cannot participate in anything like a rebellion."
The Marquis looked visibly flustered and said:
"What are you talking about?"
"Huh?"
"I am asking if you would like to invest in my business."
The Marquis pulled out a document.
"There are already several people who have decided to invest. Admiral Enrique has inquired about purchasing shares, and the Genoese financiers, led by the Duke of Valbaces, have also participated. Would you like to take a look?"
The first page of the document the Marquis handed over was filled with numbers. Last year’s grain harvest. The average harvest ratio for each farm. Records of how much was harvested after sowing one fanega of seed, along with total statistics.
"Total statistics: 13 fanegas per 1 fanega...?"
The reason Juan had uprooted all the wheat on his farm to grow oak trees and create pastures for sheep lay in that pathetic productivity. In the southern estates, where sowing 1 fanega yielded only 4 fanegas, there was truly nothing left after setting aside the seed. Just the minimum grain needed to maintain the serfs meant that a single bad harvest would wipe out all the profits earned until then.
If it were 1:4, the amount locked up as seed was 25 percent of the total. If it were 1:13, only about 8 percent was locked up as seed. In other words, the quality of the profit changed entirely.
"It was because the land was fertile after the flood. Since Don Quixote sucked the land dry, it will take time to fallow it and harvest wheat again, but my settlements are constantly expanding, so I expect the investment to be recovered within four years."
"Ah, right! Don Quixote!"
Only then did Juan remember why he had come here.
"Why doesn't that wheat grow on my land?"
"Why would my wheat be there?"
Juan was full of curiosity, and Juan was full of bewilderment.
***
Author's Note: In the Spanish-French War of the 1640s, Spain went bankrupt after borrowing something like 180 million in bonds. In the Juan Universe, I’m setting it so that Olivares avoided the Low Countries war and participated in the Thirty Years' War only half-heartedly, so while the 100 million debt didn't decrease, it didn't increase either...
