Isabel of Castile and the making of the Spanish nation, 1451-1504

by Ierne L. Plunket

Raising his force, the captain of the district must pursue his man relentlessly, summoning to him as he went all the privates and officers of the Brotherhood within sound of his alarm, till at some five leagues distant from his home, a colleague would take up the chase; and so from boundary to boundary the suspected criminal would be hunted down. Led back in triumph to the scene of the crime, he would be hailed at once before the local “Alcaldes,” or Judges of the Hermandad, and there, if convicted, receive summary justice, of which this one thing was certain, that it would not err on the side of mercy.

The least punishment administered was mutilation, the loss of a foot for some small robbery that the thief, whatever his inclinations, should have power to steal no more. In the majority of cases there was but one sentence—“death.” A priest was fetched, and the convicted man, having confessed his sins and received the Sacraments as a “Catholic Christian,” was at once bound to a tree, and there met his doom from the arrows of the troopers who had so lately captured him. Of the lasting power of the repentance expressed by such ruffians contemporaries had their doubts, for an ordinance of the Hermandad commanded that the guilty man “should die as speedily as possible that his soul might pass from him with the greater safety.”

The whole of the proceedings, from the hasty trial to the merciless sentence and its immediate enactment, bears the taint of barbarism. It can only be estimated rightly in connection with the burning homesteads and their murdered and tortured inhabitants that such stern justice came to check. One safeguard against local tyranny the regulations of the Hermandad provided,—an appeal in doubtful cases from the Alcaldes to a central Junta, or Supreme Court, and if necessary beyond that to the sovereigns themselves. Save for royal supervision the decisions of this court, which was composed of a deputy from each province with the Bishop of Cartagena as its president, were absolute; and thus it was given full scope for its work of controlling the different branches and for securing cohesion between their officials.

The expenses of the new machinery were met by a tax of 1800 maravedis on every one hundred householders, to provide for the maintenance and equipment of a single horseman. In a country, poverty-stricken through long years of internal unrest and consequent commercial insecurity, such a burden could only be justified by extreme need; but time was to prove the compensation more than adequate.

“None of the reforms of Ferdinand and Isabella were so efficient in restoring order,” says a modern historian, speaking of the Santa Hermandad, and, he also adds, “none did more to centralize power.” This latter fact was realized by many of the nobles. Here was the nucleus of a standing army, controlled by a central council under royal supervision. Its officers, when in pursuit of their prey, claimed the right of entry, not only within the gates of walled cities under municipal jurisdiction, but into fortified castles hitherto inviolable. Thus the Santa Hermandad, in attacking anarchy, threatened territorial independence; and an aristocracy, that had zealously fomented trouble for its private ends, received the due reward of its efforts.

In vain a gathering of prelates and nobles complained at Corbeñas of the arbitrary and illegal character of the new police force. They had lived as a class apart and could expect no sympathy from the mass of the nation. Neither with peasant nor burgher were the expenses of the Holy Brotherhood popular, but both were willing to pay a high price for the security of their lives and goods.

The citizens and artisans and all the poor people desirous of peace [says Pulgar] were very joyful; and they gave thanks to God, because they saw a time in which it pleased Him to have pity on these kingdoms, through the justice that the King and Queen began to execute, and because each man thought to possess his own without fear that another would take it from him by force.

At the end of three years the Hermandad, to the general satisfaction, was granted a new lease of life. Its path was also smoothed by the conduct of the Constable of Castile, Pedro Fernandez de Velasco, Count of Haro,—the same who had once argued with the recalcitrant Archbishop of Toledo on the subject of loyalty. Eager to prove his own, he willingly gave the officers of the Hermandad access to his demesnes, even joining with the members of his household to assist them in their work. As he was accredited with more vassals than any other of his peers, his example was followed by those of the leading nobles who wished to win royal favour. Lesser territorial magnates yielded perforce to the trend of popular opinion; and the sphere of action enjoyed by the Hermandad widened, not only to include the entire dominions of Castile but also the kingdom of Aragon.

Its work was the more effective from the attitude adopted towards it by Ferdinand and Isabel. Had they sought only the aggrandizement of their own power, using the judges and officials merely as royal agents to gratify their personal dislikes, or to bring money into their coffers, they would have speedily disillusioned the nation. Tyranny that apes justice can never conceal for long its guiding principle of self-interest; but in the case of the Queen it soon became obvious that she entered into the spirit of righteous dealing as eagerly as the poorest and least protected of her subjects.

It must not be inferred from this that the Castilian Princess had been endowed with a love of truth under any circumstances. Her life had been spent for the most part in an atmosphere of treachery, where he who was the least reliable or conscientious scored highest in the game of politics; and, when necessity forced her to play a hand as in the case of her marriage, she had proved herself capable of “bluffing” with the best. The threading of such intricate mazes was an ordinary statesman’s career, and Isabel had been born with an aptitude for statecraft. What was worth a great deal more to Spain was her aptitude for kingship.