Francisco Noguerol de Ulloa: The Unintended Bigamist?

Spanish conquistador Francisco Noguerol de Ulloa expected to live out the rest of his days in blissful, wealthy retirement when he returned to Spain in 1557. He had spent almost twenty years in the Indies, fighting to preserve the interests of the crown, exploring the new world, and building personal wealth and fame. His glorious return and dreams of leisure were almost instantly ruined, as he was arrested and thrown in jail on charges of bigamy. Years prior to returning to Spain, letter correspondence from Francisco’s two sisters chastised him for his familial neglect and indicated that his wife had died. Subsequently, he remarried, apparently oblivious to the truth that his first wife, Beatriz, was still alive and well. When her husband returned to Spain, Beatriz filed suit against him claiming charges of bigamy and began a fascinating legal drama. Despite being portrayed in a sympathetic light and even as a dupe to his first wife’s vindictiveness, Francisco Noguerol de Ulloa was indeed a bigamist, and it was likely due to his willful, not truthful, ignorance.

One of Francisco’s defenses to the charge of bigamy was that he believed his first wife was dead prior to marrying his second wife, Catalina (Cook and Cook 81). The evidence to support his defense was the letters he received from his sisters telling of her death from chest pains, which he took at face value. Likely, the letters were written in hopes of provoking a sense of guilt and remorse at his lack of attention to his family in Spain. The letters were confirmed in court by a cleric, although he could not verify if it was truly the sisters who wrote the letters (Cook and Cook 91). Francisco fervently argued that while there were laws that obligated him to confirm the death of his wife, he had no way of doing so since he was so far away from Spain at the time. He also added that he had no reason to doubt his sisters and their false letters, due to the fact that they were nuns and claimed strong faith (Cook and Cook 81). However, his arguments seem like excuses when considering that he also told the court that he had met a man in the New World who told him that Beatriz was alive, but Francisco decided not to believe him, saying that the informant “did not have the face of an honest man” (Cook and Cook 79). In light of this, it becomes clear that Francisco had reason to suspect that Beatriz was alive after he married Catalina, but he chose to ignore it, which does not excuse him from his behavior.

In addition to his defense, he also entreated the court to consider that his marriage to Beatriz was brought about “under duress” and that they did not live together, consummate the marriage, or behave in ways that a married couple should (Cook and Cook 82, 62). He even claimed that he was motivated to travel to the New World in order to escape his marriage. Francisco reported that he was fearful of his strict mother after his father was murdered in his youth, as she then had to take over the household and effects. She was the one who arranged the marriage between him and Beatriz, based on her prominence, dowry, and important social connections. Based on that fear and “shame”, Francisco purported that he “…in reality married by words the said Dona Beatriz de Villasur…” (Cook and Cook 78). This is also a curious argument. It seems that at this point, unable to fall back on his misunderstanding of Beatriz’s non-death, Francisco shifted his focus to attempt to convince the court that even if he was still married, it shouldn’t have been considered a legitimate marriage. Whether or not the marriage was an enjoyable experience or not does not change the fact that Francisco agreed to marriage with Beatriz.

Additionally, Francisco asserts that they did not behave like husband and wife, but this declaration is weakened when the evidence of his constant borrowing of money from Beatriz’s family becomes clear. Both prior for his departure to the Indies and well after he arrived, he wrote letters to Beatriz and her family requesting money, even during a time when Beatriz’s family was mourning the death of her sister. This letter contained platitudes to their loss, but inevitably requested money, even suggesting doing so in a “secret” way, so as to avoid the anger of his father-in-law (Cook and Cook 48-49). Even worse, Beatriz’s father seemed to sense this greed in his future son-in-law and made him sign a document acknowledging that if he did not marry or consummate his marriage with Beatriz, he would have to return any money he had received from the family (Cook and Cook 47). So, while Francisco claims to not have engaged with Beatriz in a way that resembled marriage, he seemed perfectly comfortable with using his connections with her and her family to enrich himself as much as possible. It seems unlikely that this relationship of borrowing and taking money would have been justified if the marriage was not considered legitimate by both parties. 

After examining the evidence provided by Cook and Cook, some of the strengths of the work are revealed in the skillful gathering and use of legal and courtroom documents in order to illustrate this interesting historical drama. Some of the scenes that take place in the court, such as when Francisco, “with a dramatic gesture, gave the crucial missives to the judges to examine…” provide a rich picture of Francisco’s court behavior and frustration at the charges against him (Cook and Cook 81). Additionally, the book itself serves as a case study in not only Spanish and canon law during the 16th century but is also an engrossing perspective on gender politics. Contrary to the patriarchy that dictates much of history, many of the women involved in Francisco’s life, from his mother to Beatriz, and Catalina, all demonstrate great control over their environment. For example, Beatriz reveals a real ability for women, or at least prominent women, to use the legal system for personal justice in 16th century Spain. In the end, it is her and Catalina that resolve the lasting issues between Beatriz and Francisco via a monetary settlement. 

Ironically, the skillful application of historical documents as a way to enliven the characters in this drama is also the source of its weakness. At the beginning of the book, the reader is not only invited to view the conquistador Francisco sympathetically, the authors seem to waver back and forth about Francisco’s intentions and ultimately, his level of responsibility in his own life. The book explains how even moderately wealthy families were gaining fame, fortune, and prestige in the New World, but relies on Francisco’s court excuses about escaping from the importance of marriage and mother to explain his exodus (Cook and Cook 9-10). In the end, the book seems to supply more evidence towards Francisco’s nature to be greedy, unappreciative, and negligent of social/family obligations, while romanticizing his relationship with the more beautiful and virtuous Catalina. 

While Francisco made passionate and self-interested pleas in his defense of being charged with bigamy, he was ultimately unable to prove his innocence (until the Church eventually found some technicalities in his first marriage). While attempting to proclaim his belief in Beatriz’s death, he still had reason to doubt its factuality. When suggesting to the court that the marriage was a failure and should not be considered legitimate, his use of their marriage for personal enrichment delegitimized the argument. And while the book as a whole was provoking and well researched, it seemed contradictory in its own opinion of the ill-fated Francisco and left the reader with a sense of unbalance at the portrayal of the people involved.

Work Cited

Cook, Alexandra Parma, and Noble David Cook. Good faith and truthful ignorance: a case of transatlantic bigamy. Durham: Duke University Press, 1991. Print.