Swedish consuls in Galicia: the economic function of consuls in turbulent times (1793–1806)

ABSTRACT

This article is about the creation of a Swedish network of consuls in Galicia during the French Revolutionary and Napoleonic wars. Contrary to previous findings that show consuls with weak positions vis-à-vis the host authorities or the merchant community could do little to aid merchants and ships, the paper demonstrates that consuls could provide economic functions despite having no jurisdiction or official recognition from the receiving state. In contrast to those who view self-interest as something that hindered consuls from executing economic functions, the paper demonstrates a synergy between self-interest and public goods. The paper also shows a growth in Swedish trade with Galicia, but it is unclear if the network members facilitated this development. Lastly, the article argues that the creation of the Swedish consular service, contrary to previous research, cannot be seen as driven by the Swedish central authorities with a mercantilistic agenda in mind. Instead, the process was rather dynamic and involved various actors and agendas.

KEYWORDS:

• International economics
• international conflicts (F51)
• international economics
• international institutional arrangements (F55)
• international economic history
• Europe: pre-1913 (N43)

1. Introduction

This article deals with early modern consuls and their role in handling the insecurities and uncertainties of international trade. More precisely, it deals with a network of consuls employed by the Swedish Embassy that was active in Galicia during the turbulent period of the Revolutionary and Napoleonic wars. Contrary to findings showing how a weak institutional and jurisdictional position hindered consuls from performing their duties, I show that consuls could perform economic functions while operating under such conditions. Contrary to those who have seen a contradiction between self-interest and public good in the consular service, I argue that the characteristics that presumably drove people to apply for consular positions are the very same characteristics that enabled them to perform their duties: the desire to use their consular status to expand their business enterprise and increase their social standing. Lastly, contrary to previous research on the Swedish consular service, it cannot be seen as a top-down construction orchestrated from Stockholm.

The field of consular studies has grown substantially over the last three decades (Agletti et al., 2013; Grenet et al., 2017; Müller, 2004; Pradells Nadal, 1992). In early modern times, their primary duties consisted of spreading information, protecting and furthering trade, and providing legal and humanitarian services to fellow subjects (De Goey, 2014, pp. 7–10; Müller, 2006). By the end of the eighteenth century hundreds of consuls resided in port towns, mainly in Europe and the Mediterranean but also in Asia and the Americas, representing the commercial, diplomatic, and political interests of various polities. The consul had become a central, state-run institution tasked with managing friction resulting from the increasing commercial ties between different regions, and it is of significant importance for anyone intent on understanding international trade and connections.

The results from previous research do not, however, provide a coherent view of the economic use or function of consuls. Some scholars argue that consuls contributed to economic growth by creating trust, spreading information, and protecting ships and goods as well as trading privileges (De Goey, 2014; Hashino, 2010; Le Gouic, 2017; Müller, 2004; Müller & Ojala, 2002; Ojala, 1997; Trivellato, 2012). For Denmark-Norway and Sweden, two nations who mainly remained neutral during the major conflicts of the century and whose merchant marines benefitted greatly from this policy, consuls are also said to have played an essential role in upholding Scandinavian neutrality by aiding neutral ships seised by corsairs or belligerents (Feldbæk, 2006, pp. 299–304, 395; Müller, 2004), although there are few studies of the practical work conducted by Scandinavian consuls during wartime (Müller, 2013, p. 195, 2019; Östlund, 2014, Chapters 3 & 5).

Conversely, others have argued that consuls could not perform economic functions for different reasons. International business could prosper without consuls, and even if consuls did what they could, it was not certain they succeeded in protecting their merchants and merchant marine. First, the nature of their jurisdiction, the policies of the receiving state, or the commercial strategies of the nation the consul represented could hamper their role or their capabilities. The Genoese in Lisbon managed mostly without involving the consul, both affairs within the Portuguese community and commerce (Brilli, 2013b), while the Genoese in Cadiz thought it wiser to become naturalised Spaniards rather than to remain foreign and make use of their nation and its consul (Brilli, 2013a). Meanwhile, the French consuls in eighteenth-century Spain vehemently defended the French nation’s privileges but fought a losing battle against the Spanish authorities intent on diminishing the French commercial dominance in the Spanish economy (Recio Morales, 2012).

Second, some have problematised where the loyalties of consuls lay, highlighting a tendency of consuls to serve their own interests rather than the common good (Bartolomei, 2013, pp. 257–258, 2017, pp. 5–9; Janin, 2019; Lloret, 2017; Östlund, 2021). Self-interest has also been highlighted as problematic by scholars positive to the economic function of consuls (Müller, 2004, p. 83; Müller & Ojala, 2002, p. 25).

To some degree, the considerable variation of results reflects the institutional variations of consulates at this time. As no multilateral treaties regulated their activities, and because trade varied from place to place, each consul served under different conditions. Bilateral agreements and historic privileges meant consuls from different nations could enjoy starkly varying conditions in the same port. Moreover, the tendency in the literature to problematise the relationship between private and public interests in the consular institution might seem curious, as all early modern states relied heavily on private contractors who performed services in exchange for financial rewards (Hallenberg, 2008; Parrott, 2012).

Yet, the variations in results call for further investigations into the factors that enabled consuls to perform economic functions despite adverse conditions and to what degree private and public interests collided or not, or even provided synergy. As this paper demonstrates, consuls certainly could play an economic function, primarily by offering protection by aiding ships seised by privateers. And they did so despite occupying a weak jurisdictional position vis-à-vis the host authorities. Without discounting potential conflicts between public and private interest in the early modern consular institution, the paper also shows that these worked in tandem for the benefit of all in this case. And the prevalence of private agents performing public duties in early modern Europe is not without controversy in historical research (Ekelund & Tollison, 1997), and thus requiring attention from anyone interested in understanding the influence of institutions on economic development.

Moreover, the paper contributes to our understanding of the factors that drove the expansion of the Swedish consular service in the eighteenth century. According to previous research, establishing consulates was a deliberate and successful plan on behalf of the Swedish authorities to expand Swedish trade and gain market shares (Almbjär, 2021, p. 79; Makko, 2020; Müller, 2004; Müller & Ojala, 2002). This would imply a highly bureaucratised state with impressive capabilities of planning and executing the deployment of civil servants across large distances.

In contrast, research on other nations’ consuls emphasises the self-interest of the consuls (Bartolomei, 2017; Grenet, 2021; Peskin, 2019; Signori, 2019), and especially their spontaneous applications to set up consulates (Agstner, 2006; Marzagalli, 2019; Ulbert, 2006). Recent micro-studies on the creation of Swedish consulates in Naples and Algiers have also emphasised the agency of the agents themselves rather than a state-driven mercantile policy of consular appointments (Almbjär & Clemente, 2023; Fryksén, 2017).

While not discounting the state's role, I argue for a more complex dynamic in line with recent findings that make the Swedish case less of an outlier. The dynamic in this case was driven mainly by the people who applied for posts, the Swedish Embassy in Spain, and, coincidentally, a Danish-Swedish neutrality agreement from 1793.

Thus, this article aims to analyze the economic function of consuls and the dynamics behind the expansion of the Swedish consular service. This aim is achieved by analyzing a network of consuls used by the Swedish state between 1793 and 1806 and beyond in Galicia, north-western Spain. I focus on the appointment of the consuls, their status, their actions, and their social background. The article builds on Swedish, French, and Spanish source material. For information on consular appointments, practices, and social background, I mainly rely on correspondence between the consuls and the Swedish Embassy in Spain and biographical data on the consuls in previous research. For information about the consuls’ economic function, I also use data gathered from Swedish and French consular correspondence, Spanish tax records, and the Soundtoll database.

Empirically speaking, this article deals with a network of consuls hitherto unknown by Swedish historiography, although the Swedish consular service has been given ample treatment by previous research (Makko, 2020; Makko & Müller, 2015; Müller, 2004, 2006; Müller & Ojala, 2002; Östlund, 2014). Moreover, the paper also connects to the growing body of research on eighteenth-century commercial ties between the Iberian peninsula and Eastern Europe (Jiménez-Montes, 2022; Kaps, 2021; Mörner, 2000; Reichert, 2016, 2019; Weber, 2004). Finally, the paper underscores the importance of consuls for neutral states in times of war by furthering our understanding of what consuls actually did to protect ships and goods and what services were more important than others.

The paper is divided into four sections. After the introduction, I examine the network’s creation in the context of an increased presence of the Swedish merchant marine in southern Europe and the needs of neutral states during major power conflicts. I also examine the formal status of the network. In the third section, I determine whether or not the network members could provide the Swedish merchant marine with services despite their informal status and if their presence facilitated an increase in trade with Sweden or the number of Swedish ships stopping at Galician ports. The article ends with some conclusions.

2. The creation of the network

2.1. Sweden’s presence in Spain before the 1790s

Sweden’s maritime presence in southern Europe and the Mediterranean increased in the eighteenth century. According to a contemporary, the Swedish merchant marine had become the fifth largest by the end of the 1700s (Romano, 1962, p. 578). This expansion of the Swedish merchant marine was part of an intended policy of increasing Swedish exports, entering the great intermediary trade between southern and northern Europe, and decreasing Sweden’s reliance on imports as well as middlemen, mainly the Dutch, for supplying said imports (Högberg, 1969; Magnusson, 2000, Chapters 2–4; Müller, 2004, Chapter 5). Simultaneously, Sweden established a slew of consulates. By 1750, the number lay somewhere between 20 and 30, mostly in port towns in southern Europe and the Mediterranean, and the expansion continued throughout the century (Müller, 2004).

Consequently, the number of Swedish ships visiting Spanish ports grew. Spain constituted a potentially lucrative destination for Swedish lumber, copper, iron, tar, rope, and pitch. At the same time, Spanish commodities, such as white salt and colonial goods, remained sought after in Sweden, as well as access to colonial trade (Mörner, 2000; Sánchez Diana, 1962). Consulates were also established in Spain; by 1783, they could be found in Alicante, Barcelona, Cadiz, Cartagena, and Malaga. Swedish and Spanish interaction, thus, increased as the century progressed.

While the Swedish consular presence in Spain lay to the south, there were arguments for establishing a foothold in Galicia. First, many ships landed in A Coruña because of bad weather and heavy winds for provisioning and repairs. Second, the establishment of the arsenal in Ferrol in 1750 made Galicia a great consumer of goods: wood, naval stores, supplies, and so on. Third, Ferrol was also a node for information; much diplomatic correspondence to and from Northern Europe passed through the Bay of Ferrol. Fourth, because of Spanish reforms and the establishment of a Royal Mail Service in the 1760s, American silver and colonial goods entered Spain here. Consequently, Galicia’s economy grew more dynamic in the second half of the eighteenth century (Alonso Álvarez, 1985, 2012; Cebreiro Ares, 2020; García, 2017; Meijide Pardo, 1971, 1990; Merino Navarro, 2019; Pawlyn, 2003).

Before the 1790s, however, Sweden never succeeded in gaining a consular foothold in Galicia.¹ In 1759, the Swedish authorities appointed the former privateer, Carlos Esteban MacCarthy (Vázquez Lijó, 2017, pp. 129–132, 148), as consul in Ferrol, but the Spanish rejected his appointment because he was not Swedish and because the authorities considered him a naturalised Spaniard (Cebreiro Ares & Almbjär, 2024). As Sweden and Spain never agreed on any trade treaty during the eighteenth century (Martínez Ruiz & de Pazziz Pi Corrales, 2000), Sweden never acquired the right to appoint non-subjects, and no Swedes applied. Two other applications in 1777 and 1793 by Luis Meagher and Jean Josef de Brabander to set up consulates in Ferrol and A Coruña, respectively, were rejected by the Swedish authorities, both presumably because they were not Swedish subjects.²

2.2. The network is established

When the network in Galicia was finally established, it ultimately consisted of four people. Most of them already served other nations in a consular capacity, and it was created on the initiative of the agents themselves and the Swedish Embassy, as well as a consequence of a Swedish-Danish neutrality agreement. However, the Spanish state did not recognise these agents, and the Swedish Embassy ran the network, not the authorities back home. Thus, the network was created almost entirely without the involvement of the central organs tasked with oversight of the consular service.

First, Sweden and Denmark-Norway edged closer to each other and started pooling their resources to weather the storm of the French Revolutionary Wars. As neutral states, their merchant marines made large windfalls during the conflicts of the so-called Second Hundred Years’ War (1689–1815). The 1790s and early 1800s were no different, especially after their main competitor, the Dutch, entered the conflict; the number of ships participating in foreign trade increased markedly (Andersen & Voth, 2000; Gasslander, 1954; Kilborn, 2007, pp. 49–50; Müller, 2016, p. 150).

Yet, the issue of neutral trade was far from neutral, as belligerents and neutrals often disagreed on issues such as the definition of contraband or the status of belligerent ports as blockaded or not (Feldbæk, 1983; Müller, 2013, pp. 193–194; Wold, 2020). Reports from Southern Europe at the time both emphasise the booming shipping market and the increasing danger and aggressiveness of belligerent ships, and the ‘suffering’ of the Swedish merchant fleet (Beaurepaire, 2016, p. 183; Carlson, 1971, pp. 14–15). As hostile navies and corsairs harassed, inspected, and seised neutral ships, disputing the neutral status of the freighted goods, it became imperative to protect neutral vessels and cargoes.

Besides military force, like convoys (Carlsson, 1954, pp. 22–84; Feldbæk, 1980), the protection of neutral shipping fell on diplomats and consuls who lobbied governments and argued in prize courts to have ships and cargoes released (Feldbæk, 2006, pp. 299–304). The Scandinavian nations recognised this fact, agreeing to share diplomatic and consular resources in 1793 (Holm, 1875, pp. 85–86). In locations with only one representative in place, he would represent both sets of subjects. Little has been written about this agreement, and no one has studied its consequences. The reference to the agreement comes from Danish literature on the topic, while Swedish historians seem to have completely missed it (See, for example, Carlsson, 1954; Malmborg, 2001, pp. 63–64; Müller, 2016). This lack of attention is not surprising to some extent, as both nations established almost identical diplomatic and consular networks (Jørgensen, 1951, p. 60; Müller, 2004, pp. 42–44). However, in Spain, the Danes also maintained consuls in Seville, Port Mahon, and, more importantly, on the northern coast of Spain in A Coruña from 1787, while the Swedish did not (Hansen, 1956, p. 135).

The Swedish envoy in Madrid, Carl August Ehrenswärd (1784–1799), had started cooperating with the Danish, Dutch, and Tuscan consul in A Coruña, van der Schrik,³ in the 1790s about Swedish ships seised and brought to Galicia.⁴ However, by 1798, van der Schrik was absent, and Ehrenswärd used the Dutch vice consul in A Coruña, Antonio Opitz, instead. According to the Envoy, Opitz had a good reputation and was appointed Danish consul in A Coruña the following year.⁵ After his appointment, the Swedish Embassy issued an authorisation for Opitz in Spanish and Swedish. It stated that because of the 1793 agreement, all Swedes had to enlist the help of the Danish consul Opitz.⁶

Another addition, perhaps stemming from the Swedish-Danish agreement, was the enlistment of the English vice-consul in Ferrol, Francisco Fernandez, to handle the affairs of seised Swedish ships.⁷ Fernandez was named Danish vice consul in Ferrol in 1802, but by 1799, he already communicated regularly with the Swedish embassy in Madrid.⁸ His eventual appointment by Opitz hints at a connection between the two, but it might have also been the case that the agents’ cooperation with the Swedish Embassy brought them into contact.

However, the Swedish-Danish agreement of 1793 does not explain the appointment of the remaining persons in the network. In 1801, the Swedish Charge d’Affaires Carl Gustaf Adlerberg (1799–1807) recruited Spanish merchant Pedro Miranda Villamil in the port town of Ribadeo. Unlike Opitz and Fernandez, Villamil did not represent another nation, and his association began when he contacted the Swedish Embassy concerning a seised Swedish ship. His efforts pleased Adlerberg to the degree that he offered him to serve Swedish interests in Ribadeo. According to his authorisation, the Swedish authorities trusted Villamil, who had shown diligence and care. Unlike Opitz, Swedish subjects did not have to enlist Villamil’s services but were recommended to use him.⁹

The Portuguese vice consul in Vigo, Manuel Francisco Menendez, was the last person to enter the Galician network. The first mention of him in the sources dates from 1800, when a Swedish captain, Almgren, enlisted the help of Menendez in some capacity.¹⁰ Menendez was also linked to the Swedish consulate in Cadiz, as he referred to the acting consul there, Carl Christiernin, as his friend.¹¹ However, there are no letters from or to Menendez before 1803, so it is uncertain if the cooperation with the Embassy in Madrid began before that.¹²

2.3. The network’s status and jurisdiction

As we can see, the network rested entirely on the authentication provided by the Swedish Embassy. The Embassy ran the network, and the authorities back home had no direct exchange with the people in Galicia, although it is likely they knew about them.¹³ As they received no formal recognition of their appointments from the Swedish or Spanish states, such as diplomas or an exequatur,¹⁴ they are not listed in Johan Almquist’s extensive collective biography of Swedish consuls (Almquist, 1912). Menendez had gotten Adlerberg to try to formalise his position, but the Spanish authorities rejected this application, not least because only heads of state could make consular appointments (Cebreiro Ares & Almbjär, 2024). We would know very little of them were it not for the Embassy archives. Appointments of agents affiliated with the Swedish state but not formally recognised by the Spanish state had happened before. In the 1740s, the Swedes employed an agent in Madrid, van der Lepe, and in 1757, the Dutch consul in Alicante, Welther, acted as interim consul upon the Embassy’s authorisation (Almbjär, 2024). Nor was the practice of appointing consuls not recognised by the receiving state isolated to the Swedish consular service (Crespo Solana & Montojo Montojo, 2009, p. 384; Grenet, 2016, p. 28; Simeonov, 2020).

Consequently, the status of the people in the Galician network was unclear, and its jurisdiction was non-existent. The Embassy staff thought of them as consuls as the letters to and from them are in the consular correspondence volumes. They also referred to the network members as consuls or vice consuls,¹⁵ but not always: In a letter to the Swedish consul in Lisbon in early 1800, for example, Adlerberg referred to Opitz as ‘the Danish consul in Coruña … who handles the affairs of Swedish seafarers.’¹⁶ The status of the network was perhaps also blurry to the people in Galicia. A Spanish Trade Calender from 1805 listed Opitz as ‘encargado’, authorised, for Sweden, Villamil as ‘private agent for Sweden’ and Menendez as having no affiliation with Sweden.¹⁷ In 1808, however, the same calendar listed Villamil as vice consul.¹⁸ The Embassy, furthermore, also made it clear to the members of the Galician network that did not represent Denmark-Norway that none of them possessed the right to demand payment for their services or to levy consular fees other than the ‘voluntary reward’ given to them by Swedish captains.¹⁹

Nonetheless, Adlerberg tried to acquire a formal Swedish appointment of the Galician network’s members in 1801, where he envisaged consular status for Opitz and Fernandez and vice-consular status for Villamil.²⁰ However, the Stockholm wholesalers, who were always consulted on consular appointments, said no, and the Swedish authorities acquiesced. Interestingly, the merchants argued that Swedish ships who visited northern Spain had no problems getting good service, disregarding the fact that this was presumably a result of the establishment of the same network that Adlerberg tried to formalise.²¹ The Stockholm merchants likely did not want to have to pay consular fees for this service by having the network members appointed and did not seem to think the strengthened position of the Galician agents was worth the price.

3. The economic function of the network

3.1. Consular practices

In a nutshell, the Galician network occupied a position with little to no authority bar the authorisation they had received from the Embassy. They were not consuls but were supposed to act as consuls and were thought of as consuls. For the remainder of the text, we can refer to them as consuls or affiliated agents, I.E. agents affiliated with the Swedish state through the Swedish Embassy but still lacking consular authority and immunities. The issue, then, is to establish if they made a difference. We begin with their ability to aid Swedish ships passing through Galician ports.

In December 1799, the Swedish ship Waksamheten travelled along the French coast loaded with iron and steel destined for Portugal when a French corsair seised the ship. However, before the two ships could reach port, a British warship showed up and seised the French ship. The Swedish ship landed in Vigo for repairs but was immediately captured again by the French. However, the ship’s papers lay with the British commander, and the legal process stalled without them. Opitz needed the documents and advised the Swedish embassy that he believed the English ship could be found in Portugal. Thus, Adlerberg asked the Swedish consul in Lisbon to keep an eye out for the British ship and get the documents to Opitz.²² In the same year, Opitz also secured the release of the vessel Neptun and lodged a protest against the French for their seizure and treatment of the crew of this ship, as well as the brigantine Maria.²³ Adlerberg also sought Opitz’s help to enlist new crew members for a stranded Swedish captain.²⁴

All members of the Galician consular network worked on prize trials. In early 1806, a Swedish ship under Captain Sandelius had been seised by a Corsair based in Muros, north of Vigo. As soon as he heard, Adlerberg informed Menendez in Vigo to take care of the matter and wrote Sandelius that he could expect to be contacted by either Menendez directly or by one of his deputies.²⁵ Likewise, Villamil had managed to get a Swedish ship loaded with salt declared free in early 1803.²⁶

The Galician network not only reported on their work with the prize trials, they also provided the Embassy with advice and guidance. The Swedish ship Amiticia had remained in port for 173 days before the trial finished and Opitz sought compensation for the long layover. Although the court approved Opitz’s claims, Opitz informed Adlerberg that the Corsair shipmaster Pedro Abeleira was a well-known litigant who would drag out the process for a long time. Consequently, Opitz suggested that Adlerberg convince the ship’s captain to settle with Abeleira. After Adlerberg succeeded in doing so, Opitz also handled the transaction.²⁷

The Galician network also informed the embassy about the movement of warships. Especially Fernandez was in a good position because of his proximity to the Royal Shipyards of Ferrol. In the middle of May 1803, he reported that a Dutch Naval Squadron still lay anchored for repairs and warned that war was imminent. At the end of May, he again informed Madrid about ship and troop movements and the apparent inactivity in the royal shipyards, and in the middle of June, he reported that the Dutch Squadron had left. ²⁸ The consuls also inform the Swedish Embassy about other relevant events. In March 1803, Opitz related information that a Swedish ship had come to A Coruña from Santo Domingo in the Caribbean, with the crew depleted from sickness.²⁹ The following month, Fernandez reported that a Swedish ship sailing from Brest in France had unloaded provisions for the Spanish fleet in Ferrol.³⁰

Conversely, the Swedish embassy entrusted the Galician network with spreading information. Corsair activity lay at the centre of this vital task. In early 1799, before war had broken out, the Swedish embassy spread the news of unconfirmed threats issued by the Tripolitan government.³¹ In February 1801, Adlerberg warned of aggressive British privateers and in 1805, of French corsairs.³² The Galician agents also relayed information about other events, such as the birth of Swedish princes in 1799 and 1802.³³ Finally, by 1806, as Swedish shipping in southern Europe was suffering badly, the Galician consuls, as part of the Swedish consular service, helped facilitate the evacuation of any Swedish ships still hiding in Spanish ports.³⁴

Lastly, besides spreading information and aiding ships and ship crews caught up in the war, we also need to consider the ability of the affiliated agents to make outlays and advances. As we saw above, Opitz handled the outlays of a Swedish ship. This happened every time a ship was seised and brought to a prize trial. The crew had to be paid, damages to the ship repaired, and new crew members hired. On top of that, the only asset of the ship besides the ship itself, namely the cargo, was impossible to sell as it had been seised. Thus, shipcaptains had to rely on credit from members of the Galician network.³⁵ Adlerberg emphasised this ability when he tried to get the Swedish authorities to appoint his agents, arguing that besides aiding them with judicial processes, the members of the Galician network could assist captains by providing ‘advances caused by necessity’, something that Adlerberg’s ‘circumstances’ prevented him from doing.³⁶

As we can see, these affiliated agents could perform consular duties without possessing the consular authority. They handled prize trials, aided ship captains in resupplying and hiring crew, spread information, and provided necessary outlays. As we will see below, most network members held consular posts recognised by the Spanish government for other nations, but they had no jurisdiction to intervene in Swedish cases. This lack of consular status and their subsequent lack of any jurisdiction did not present a problem. They provided valuable services regardless. Especially the aid provided for Swedish ships seised by corsairs stands out in the source material. As Menendez remarked, no one asked him for his exequatur anyway.³⁷

At the same time, their position was not unproblematic. As we saw above, Adlerberg argued for their formal appointments. Yet, it is unclear what motives drove him, as they already provided the services he claimed they would provide if appointed. At least one ship captain, Gerdes, also complained after having undergone humiliating treatment by the French consul and the authorities who robbed him of his sailors and his clothes and laughed at him when he lodged a formal protest. According to Gerdes, a Swedish consul could have prevented this ‘undignified’ treatment.³⁸

To conclude, had the agents in Galicia held a formal position as consuls, they could have acted with even more authority. At the same time, their lack of jurisdiction or status did not hamper their ability to provide valuable aid to the Swedish merchant marine and the Swedish Embassy in Spain.

3.2. The members of the network

The consular network in Galicia provided services and was wealthy enough to make outlays on behalf of Swedish ship owners, a service identified as crucial by Adlerberg. But was their wealth the only quality they possessed that made them attractive to the Swedish Embassy? Moreover, what were the agents’ motives, especially considering the time and money they spent helping Swedish ships at prize trials? As Mathieu Grenet has recently argued, it is often difficult to ascertain the motives of people volunteering to become consuls. Their actual reasons are seldom disclosed in official documents (Grenet, 2021, pp. 220–221). To be sure, previous research has identified and agreed on more general motives: The consular title meant an improvement of social status and credit, and it provided the merchant with legal immunities (Janin, 2019; Marzagalli, 2019; Müller & Ojala, 2002). The legal immunities must be discounted here – none of the network’s members had a position recognised by the Spanish authorities and, therefore, no immunity. Instead, I will examine the Galician agents’ suitability as consuls and their specific social and economic motives and strategies for becoming Swedish agents by primarily analyzing their background. I focus on three people or nodes: Villamil, Menéndez, and Opitz. As I demonstrate, the motives both overlapped and varied for all three according to their social and commercial strategies.

Pedro Miranda Villamil was one of the leading importers in Ribadeao at the time. Born into an Asturian rural noble family in 1763, he settled in Ribadeo in 1795 or 96. He began trading with French wines but later expanded his scope to the Americas and the Baltic and rose to local prominence. He was elected to the city council in 1798 and 1799. Here, the social bonus of attaining an appointment as Swedish agent can be seen as part of Villamil’s rise within merchant circles in northern Spain.³⁹ One can also see his utility to the Swedish merchant marine besides his credit, namely his political sway as part of the local administration which no doubt benefitted Swedish ships. However, he does not seem to have accumulated consular appointments like Menéndez.

Francisco Manuel Menéndez was a prominent merchant in late eighteenth-century Vigo. He had commercial connections in the neighbouring Portuguese cities of Porto and Lisbon and traded with London. His dispatches written in his capacity as English consul were very appreciated by the British Foreign Office.⁴⁰ Menéndez also acted as commissioner for big Spanish trading houses, such as Compañía de Seguros Marítimos y Terrestres from Madrid and the Basque-Gaditan Gardoqui. By 1808, his firm also acted as commissioner for the Banco Nacional de San Carlos in Oviedo. His yearly trading income exceeded the figure of one million reales de vellón several times in this period.⁴¹ Besides representing Portugal from 1785 and Great Britain from 1790 as consul, he received the appointment of American consul in 1800. Moreover, he also became one of the main leasers of corsairs’ ships in Galicia for some years. A report from 1799 states numerous prices, mainly British. This triple connection as importer, consul, and corsair raises the question if Menendez engaged in corsarism to be able to import British goods legally.⁴²

Menéndez, thus, represented four states by 1803. While not discounting the social capital he gained from this accumulation of offices, we also have to consider the synergy effect. Combined with his Corsair activities, he had access to much incoming information that he could use in his business enterprise. Moreover, unlike Villamil, the accumulation of offices meant that Menéndez could boast much experience handling prize cases. He could provide the Swedish merchant marine with fresh information and legal expertise.

Lastly, we have the Bohemian Opitz family. Bohemians were known in Spain as cristaleros because of the glass products they imported, together with metal wares and linen (Weber, 2004, pp. 133–143). The Opitz network established itself in several northern ports, beginning in the middle of the eighteenth century. The network had strong connections to the Dutch; the Opitz family came to Spain after many years in Amsterdam. Antonio Opitz (hereafter Opitz Sr) settled in A Coruña around 1750. His company, Opitz, Gerner & Cía, became one of the largest in the Galician port. He was also connected to the Bohemian merchant house Trauschke & Zinke in Santiago de Compostela through his wife. By 1764, the Dutch appointed Opitz Sr consul.⁴³

However, his successor would embark on the strategy of Menéndez and accumulate offices. By the 1790s, Opitz Sr had been replaced by his sons Antonio (hereafter Opitz Jr) and Josef, the former serving not only the Dutch but also the Danish and eventually the Swedish, the Prussians, the Hanseatic towns, and Hamburg.⁴⁴ Josef Opitz eventually became Danish vice-consul, responsible for handling Swedish affairs.⁴⁵ The Opitz family turned the Swedish, Danish, and Dutch consulates into a joint family enterprise.

Other families connected to Opitz also served as their vice consuls or agents for one or several states in other Galician ports. The Venetian Jacobo Zemelo served as Dutch vice consul in Vigo from 1781 until Juan Antonio Zemelo replaced him in 1788, who also became Danish vice consul in Vigo in 1800.⁴⁶ A Spanish trade almanac from 1800 lists him as a Swedish agent.⁴⁷ Another family was the Bohemian Räsche (Raschel in the Spanish documents) family: Antonio Räsche served as Imperial and then Dutch vice consul in Ferrol, and in the early 1800s, two Räsche family members served as Dutch consul in A Coruña and Danish vice consul in Vigo, respectively.⁴⁸ The latter offered his service to the Swedish Embassy in Madrid, but Menendez had already secured the post by then.⁴⁹ Two other persons in Santander, Godefride Krahl and Antonio Perchke, also provided services to the Swedish and were connected to Opitz’s network.⁵⁰

Much like Menéndez, the Opitz family most likely accumulated offices to gain access to information they could use in their affairs. Unlike Menéndez, they had a history of holding consular positions stretching over two generations, and they had allied with other families to create a consular network encompassing several towns in Galicia and Santander. Again, their experience made them attractive to the Swedish Embassy, but in addition to Menéndez, members of the Opitz network held consular authority in many places where corsairs brought seised Swedish ships.

Besides the already mentioned aspects of acquiring status and information, the position entailed the transfer of northern capital and further appointments. First, the position of affiliated agent or trustee likely meant that the people in the Galician network received all Swedish traffic coming to their ports. Consequently, they received payments for help with unloading and loading cargo, procuring provisions, and brokerage fees if they secured further freight contracts for Swedish ships. Moreover, their trading firms handled financial transactions related to prize trials. To be sure, prize trials could take a long time and cost much money, but these people must have thought the reward worth the risk. Crucially, all these expenses with interest were paid for by ship owners and insurance brokers back in Sweden, Denmark-Norway, or the Dutch Republic, meaning that the consular position allowed them to attract capital from northern Europe. The members of the Galician network were able to profit from the disruption corsairs wreaked on communications.

Second, their consular experience also made them more attractive for additional consular appointments, leading to even more maritime traffic heading their way. Especially when we consider the low number of foreigners in Galician ports compared to, say, Cadiz.

The members of the Galician network sought status, information, and capital. In Menendez’ and Opitz Jr’s case, through accumulating offices. Yet, it was precisely this self-interest that made them attractive candidates. In Opitz Jr’s case, for example, the accumulation of offices in several port towns meant that he could aid the Swedish merchant marine all over Galicia and Santander. And his desire to increase his wealth also meant he could afford to make outlays and transfer advances. There was no contradiction between self-interest and public goods in this case, quite the contrary.

3.3. Swedish trade with Galicia 1793–1806

So far, we have established that the Galician network provided crucial services to the Swedish merchant marine despite lacking any jurisdiction or formal position. In this section, I examine if Swedish trade with Galicia increased in the period and if the Galician network was involved. I analyze both transit trade involving Swedish ships and direct traffic, using the few remaining shipping lists of Swedish ships that visited foreign ports, compiled by Swedish consuls in Cadiz and Alicante; reports from the French vice-consul in A Coruña in the late 1790s; data from the soundtoll database; Spanish fiscal records; and Luis Lopéz Martínez’ research. I demonstrate that, to some extent, Swedish commerce with Galicia increased in these years, but it is uncertain to what degree the network members facilitated this.

In terms of Swedish transit trade to Galicia, there is only anecdotal information before the 1770s. In the 1740s and 1750s, the aforementioned van der Lepe (p. 12) secured freight contracts for the Spanish crown to Galicia and the Asturias for Swedish ships.⁵¹ From the 1770s onwards, there is more systematic yet patchy information, and the results clearly show an increase in Swedish ship traffic in the 1790s (Table 1). At the end of the decade, Swedish ships constituted the sixth most common foreign visitor to A Coruña (Table 2), carrying different types of goods from Spanish ports, Setubal, Amsterdam, and so on (Table 3). We also know that at least 15 ships stopped by Galician ports between 1800 and 1804, picking up salted fish, but we do not know if this number presented an increase or decrease.⁵²

Table 1. Amount of recorded passages per year to Galicia.

Route	Cadiz – Galicia	Aliante – Galicia	Setubal – Galicia	Total
1773	2	–	–	2
1774	1	–	–	1
1775	4	–	–	4
1776	2	–	–	2
1778	3	1	–	4
1779	2	–	–	2
1786	5	–	–	5
1791	1	0	–	1
1792	5	0	–	5
1796–1797	15	0	21	29
1800	1	10	–	11
Total	41	11	21	84

Sources: RA, KoK, E6aa:12 & E6aa:67, skeppslistor från konsuler i Alicante & Cadiz; (López Martínez, 2007, p. 98)

Table 2. Number of ships entering A Coruña’s port by flag and tonnage between September 1797 and September 1799.

	N_ships	N_sTn_Unk	T_sTn_Kn	Tot_Max	Tot_Min	Av_sTn_Kn	TTDeduc
Spain	294	63	7,589	400	6	32,85	9,658,73
U. S. A	32	2	3,866	300	65	128,87	4,123,73
France	29	28	30	–	–	–	–
Denmark-Norway	25	2	3,240	300	25	140,87	3,521,74
Great Britain	17	7	1,362	338	60	136,20	2,315,40
Prussia	13	1	2,235	400	30	186,25	2,421,25
Sweden	12	1	2,080	400	80	189,09	2,269,09
Hamburg	9	0	1,160	300	20	128,88	1,160,00
Portugal	9	5	520	250	80	130,00	1,170,00
Holy Roman Empire	2	0	270	150	120	–	270,00
Morroco	2	1	35	–	–	–	35,00
Oldenburg	2	0	139	114	25	–	139,00
Dutch Republic	1	0	70	–	–	–	70,00
Total / Av.	447	110	22,596	295	51	134	27,153,00
Abbreviations: [N_ships]: number of ships; [N_sTn_Unk]: number of ships with tonnage is not provided; [T_sTn_Kno]: total of tonnage provided; [Tot_Max]: Ship which highst tonnage provided; [Tot_Min]: Ship with the lowest tonnage provided; [Av_sTn_Kno]: Average Toonage of ships provided; [Ttdeduc]: Deduction of total tonnage applying average for unknows.

Source: Archives Diplomatiques de France (La Courneuve, Paris): Correspondance consulaire, La Corogne, 1792–1801, T.16.

Table 3. Cargo and source ports of Swedish ships (in percentages).

Swedish ships
Salt	Setubal (Portugal)	45,5
Wheat and tallow	Hamburg and Rostock	27,3
Spirits, wine, and soap	Barcelona (Spain)	9,1
‘Spanish Prisoners’	Cowes (Wight Island)	9,1
Campeche Timber and others	Norfolk (Virginia)	9,1

Source: See Table 2.

There are, however, two identifiable trends in the material. One is the freighting of salt to Galicia from Alicante, Cadiz and Setubal, an essential ingredient for the Galician fishing industry. The Swedish consul in Alicante was involved,⁵³ as was the Swedish merchant house in Cadiz, Hagstrom y hijo: In 1797, the latter took out 6400 pesos fuertes in payment on behalf of one of the captains who made the salt run to Galicia.⁵⁴ Lopéz Martínez lists the war as one of the main reasons why Swedes (and Danes) got more involved in the salt traffic. Because of the French Revolutionary Wars, Galicia relied less on Mediterranean salt supplies and instead turned to Setubal. The war also increased the importance of enlisting neutral ships for freight missions (López Martínez, 2007, pp. 97–102). However, if the consuls in Galicia had anything to do with this development seems uncertain at best.

The second trend is the transport of flax and, to a lesser degree wheat, and other goods from Memel and Riga to Galicia on ships flying the Swedish flag (Table 4). While only a handful of ships journeyed from Swedish or Finnish ports in the Baltic before or during the period studied here, no less than 74 ships from Swedish Pomerania intending to go to Galicia can be found in the Sound toll database between 1795 and 1805. Most of these ships came from Barth and, to a lesser extent, from Stralsund. 1798 and 1803–1805 stand out as the peak years when 10–15 ships attempted the trip annually. The flax went to the Galican linen industry, which relied on Dutch and Russian flax (Carmona Badía, 1990).

Table 4. Swedish ships travelling to Galicia, recorded in the Sound toll registers.

Years	Swedish Pomerania	Sweden & Finland	Total
1755–1765	0	5	5
1775–1785	0	6	6
1795–1805	74	9	83

Source: https://www.soundtoll.nl/

However, it is difficult to say anything about the Galician network’s role in this increased traffic. As for the salt, it seems other actors steered the trade. As for the flax, the first peak year occurred while the network was still under construction, and it is unlikely the agents managed to establish new commercial contacts in the Swedish realm so quickly. On the other hand, the network was well and truly established by the second peak in the early 1800s, and the consuls might have been involved in these transactions. At the same time, we also have to consider the possibility that these agents noted an increase in Swedish traffic and, therefore, sought the post to be able to profit. What came first here is, however, hard to establish.

4. Conclusions

This article demonstrates that consuls provided vital economic functions despite occupying a weak position vis-à-vis the host authorities, at least for neutral nations. The Spanish authorities did not recognise the members of the Galician network, but they still carried out their primary task, aiding Swedish ships seised by Corsair. They protected Swedish ships arriving in Galicia to trade or brought there by corsairs. The appointment of Menéndez and the Opitz family, including Fernández, granted Sweden access to valuable resources. The agents themselves or their network members represented various nations as consuls and ran successful trading houses. Through their accumulation of consular posts and their trading activity they amassed knowledge and experience in commerce and negotiating with the Spanish authorities, they had credit for financial outlays and international transactions, and in the case of Menéndez, first-hand experience of running a privateering enterprise and connections at court. They all knew Spanish. Villamil did not hold multiple consular positions, but other than that, he supplied the Swedes with the same valuable services.

A caveat concerns the difference between the findings in this paper and previous research. I have not analyzed the Galician network’s ability to defend Swedish trade privileges and trade immunities, nor the relationship between the consuls and Swedish diasporas in Galicia. Sweden and Spain lacked a trade agreement, and there were no diasporas. Swedish trade with Galicia increased, but it is hard to establish if the network had anything to do with this development. An analysis of these factors might have yielded other results. But the results do show that the Galician agents certainly could provide valuable and appreciated services despite occupying a weak position, not even recognised by the Spanish authorities.

In exchange for their services, the members of the Galician network increased their competitive advantage over their competitors in several ways. They gathered information from Swedish ships, received capital from northern Europe through payments from Swedish shipmasters, ship owners, and insurance brokers, and improved their social standing, not least through the connection to the Swedish state and the Swedish Embassy in Madrid. This study demonstrates that even if the consuls took on these posts out of self-interest, it was precisely their desire to accumulate information, offices, and capital that enabled them to execute their dealings. Consulates were not solely devices for implementing state policies. Instead, we should view it as a resource controlled by the state, coveted by merchants for various reasons. Yet, in these conditions, when a neutral state like Sweden could not protect its shipping by force or diplomacy, the Galician network illustrates how consuls, thanks to their self-interest, could provide a cost-effective and practical mean of aiding the Swedish merchant marine.

Lastly, the findings concur with recent results that show that the expansion of the Swedish consular service was driven by merchants and other actors like ambassadors on the ground, not from above by the central authorities. After Denmark-Norway and Sweden pooled their diplomatic and consular resources in 1793, the Swedish Embassy in Madrid started building a stable network of Swedish representatives. It was not authorised by the Spanish authorities but by the Embassy, though recognised in the Spanish trading almanacs. Moreover, spontaneous applications from merchants in Galicia enabled the Embassy to add agents in Ribadeo and Vigo. Crucially, the central authorities back in Stockholm were absent from the entire process, and there was no sign of a conscious mercantile policy intended to boost trade. Rather, we see that merchants wanted the position and sought it, thus driving the process forward in combination with the Neutrality Agreement and the Embassy’s desire to protect Swedish shipping.

Galicia should not be considered unimportant or unrepresentative. Little to no Swedish ships traded there, but its geographical position rendered it crucial for neutral nations whose vessels engaged in trade between southern and northern Europe during the major conflicts of the time. The question is, instead, that if the expansion of the Swedish consular service was a planned process directed by the Swedish authorities, why was there no consistent effort to gain a foothold here earlier in the century? Moreover, the results from this case study coincide with evidence from the creation of economically and diplomatically important Swedish consulates in Naples and Algiers. Regardless of context, the Swedish central authorities were absent or secondary figures. Additional studies of consulates in ports important to Sweden, such as Cadiz or Rouen, would likely confirm these findings.

Lastly, this network was not a temporary solution. It survived the Napoleonic wars, with business partners and sons assuming the positions when the original members stepped down.⁵⁵ The ad hoc solution of the 1790s and 1800s finally secured Sweden a long-term consular foothold in northern Spain. The Swedish authorities back in Stockholm did not have anything to do with it.

Acknowledgments

The author would like to express his gratitude to the Centre for Privacy Studies, Copenhagen University (DNRF138), for supporting me in writing this text, as well as Christopher Pihl, Francisco Cebreiro Ares, and the two anonymous reviewers for providing valuable feedback. Francisco also helped me identify source material and get started with the Spanish literature.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).

Additional information

Funding

Research for this article was supported by the Swedish Research Council, project number 2017–06321

Notes

1 In the 1710s, there seems to have been a Swedish vice consul in Coruña, Hinric Croesen, judging by three letters written 1713–1715. He was most likely appointed by the consul in Cadiz. Riksarkivet (RA), Kommerskollegium (KomK), E6b:1.

2 RA, KomK, KomK till Kanslikollegium, unknown day May 1777; RA, KomK, Af1a:8 28 May 1777; RA, KomK, E17G:1, Handlingar rörande Brabanders ansökan.

3 For more information about van der Schrick, see (Meijide Pardo, 1965, pp. 72–73, 77); Archivo Histórico Nacional (AHN), Estado 642, Exp 30.

4 RA, Madridbeskickningens arkiv 1740–1932 del 1 (MBA), A2:1, ambassaden till van der Schrick 18 May 1796 (among the 1798 letters!) & 14 Feb. 1798.

5 RA, MBA, A2:1, ambassaden till Alm 17 Feb. 1798; (Cebreiro Ares & Almbjär, 2024)

6 RA, MBA, A2:1, ambassaden till Opitz, 24 Apr. 1799.

7 RA, MBA, A2:1, ambassaden till Fernandez 11 July 1798.

8 For the appointment of Fernandez as English vice consul in 1795 and Danish vice consul in 1802, see AHN, Estado 628, Exp 19; and Estado 634, Exp 30, respectively.

9 RA, MBA, A2:2, ambassaden till Villamil 11 Feb. & 4 Apr. 1801.

10 RA, MBA, B2:4, Almgren till ambassaden, 3 May 1800.

11 RA, MBA, B2:7, Menenendez till ambassaden 29 Sept. 1803.

12 RA, MBA, B2:4–7.

13 RA, KomK, E6aa:67, Gahn till KomK, 4 Apr. 1800.

14 The Exequatur was a written document where the receiving head of state formally recognized the appointment of a consul in his territory and allowed the consul to perform his duties.

15 See, for example, RA, MBA, A2:2, ambassaden till Opitz 6 Dec. 1805.

16 RA, MBA, A2:2, ambassaden till Kantzow 11 Feb. 1800.

17 Almanak mercantile o Guia de comerciantes para el año 1805, Madrid, 249, 256, 258.

18 Almanak mercantile o Guia de comerciantes para el año 1808, Madrid, 273.

19 See, for example, RA, MBA, A2:2, ambassaden till Villamil 11 Feb. 1801.

20 RA, Hispanica, Vol 43, Adlerberg till Kungl. Maj:t 19 Oct. 1801; RA, KomK, B2a:68, KomK till Kungl. Maj:t, 8 Jun 1802.

21 RA, KomK, B2a:68, KomK till Adlerberg, 8 Juni 1802.

22 RA, MBA, A2:2, ambassaden till Kantzow 11 Feb. 1800.

23 RA, MBA, B2:3, Opitz till ambassaden 29 May & 22 June 1799.

24 RA, MBA, B2:4, Adlerberg’s notes on the letter from Gerdes till ambassaden, 30 Apr. 1800.

25 RA, MBA, A2:2, ambassaden till Sandelius, 29 Mar. 1806.

26 RA, MBA, B2:7, Villamil till ambassaden, 27 Jan. 1803.

27 RA, MBA, A2:2, ambassaden till Opitz, 8 Jan. 1803; RA, MBA, B2:7, Opitz till ambassaden, 1, 5 Feb. & 2 Mar. 1803.

28 RA, MBA, B2:7, Fernandez till ambassaden, 18, 28 May & 18 June 1803.

29 RA, MBA, B2:7, Opitz till ambassaden, 2 Mar. 1803.

30 RA, MBA, B2:7, Fernandez till ambassaden, 16 Apr. 1803.

31 RA, MBA, A2:1, cirkulär från ambassaden, 19 Mar. 1799.

32 RA, MBA, A2:2, cirkulär från ambassaden, 11 Feb. 1801, 11 Jan. 1805 & 26 Nov. 1805.

33 RA, MBA, A2:1, cirkulär från ambassaden, 10 Dec. 1799; RA, MBA, A2:2, cirkulär från ambassaden, 11 Jan. 1803.

34 RA, MBA, A2:2, cirkulär från ambassaden, 22 & 23 Apr. 1806.

35 See, for example, RA, MBA, B2:7, Opitz till ambassaden 16 Mar. 1803.

36 ’samt gå dem till handa med de förskått de äga af nöden.’, RA, Hispanica, Vol 43, Adlerberg till Kungl. Maj:t 19 Oct. 1801

37 RA, MBA, B2:7, Menendez till ambassaden, 21 Dec. 1803.

38 RA, Hispanica, Vol 43, Adlerberg till Kungl. Maj:t 19 Oct. 1801; RA, MBA, B2:4, Gerdes till ambassaden 26 Feb. 1800.

39 (Meijide Pardo, 1976); Archivo de la Chancillería de Valladolid, Sala de Hijosdalgo, Caja 1018, 4.

40 (Meijide Pardo, 1965, pp. 80–82); Archivo Municipal de Vigo (AMV), Varia, 1811, 97; Archivo General de Simancas (AGS), Consulados, 253, 62 y 76; AHN, Estado 634, Exp. 15 & Estado 644, Exp. 38; Archivo del Reino de Galicia (ARG), Junta de Defensa, 21 y 30, docs 9 y 13; Almanak mercantile o Guia de comerciantes para el año 1808, Madrid, 291.

41 (Meijide Pardo, 1980, pp. 321–323); AMV, Varia 1801-1812, exp. 97, 1811.

42 AGS, Consulados 250, 1826; AMV, Actas Ayuntamiento, doc 26, 1816; AHN, Estado 3535.

43 AHN, Estado 624, Exp 15; (Meijide Pardo, 1965, pp. 75–76); (Cebreiro Ares, 2015); Archivo Histórico Universitario de Santigo de Compostela, Protocolos de Santiago, 5987, f. 5; ARG, Libro Registro de Hipotecas, 12 december 1784.

44 AHN, Estado 642, Exp 30; Almanak mercantile o Guia de comerciantes para el año 1800, Madrid, 265.

45 Almanak mercantile o Guia de comerciantes para el año 1807, Madrid, 258.

46 Jacobo Zemelo: AHN,Estado 633, Exp 32; Juan Antonio Zemelo: AHN, Estado 644, Exp 3; (Meijide Pardo, 1965, p. 84); AMV, Actas de ayuntamiento, documentos 7 y 9 (1793).

47 Almanak mercantile o Guia de comerciantes para el año 1800, Madrid, 265.

48 Antionio: AHN, Estado 644, Exp 5; the two Räsche brothers: AHN, Estado 634, Exp 31; also see ARG, Juzgado de Ferrol: Caixa 4982 42, Signatura antigua 423/27.

49 RA, MBA, B2:7, Räsche till ambassaden, 22 Oct. 1803.

50 RA, MBA, B2:7, Opitz till ambassaden, 9 Feb. 1803.

51 RA, KomK, E6aa:67, Bellman till KomK, 4 Sept. 1753; Riksarkivet Uppsala, Handelshuset Carlos och Claes Grill 1749–1839, 1:5, Hultstedt till Grill, 3 Jan. 1752.

52 AGS, Consejo Supremo de Hacienda, 217–219.

53 RA, KomK, E6aa:12, skeppslistor från konsuln i Alicante.

54 Archivo Histórico Provincial de Cadiz, Reales Ordenes, Vol 50, f. 223.

55 RA, MBA, A2:3, ambassaden till Opitz 14 Feb. 1815; RA, MBA, B2:12, Ekholm till ambassaden, 22 Mar. 1815; RA, MBA, C:1, ambassaden till Villamil & ambassaden till Wickstén, 24 Apr. 1815.