It was a boast that did not hold good, for towards the end of his reign the wretched monarch had been driven to meet expenses by selling annuities levied on his estates; and the Court, taking advantage of his necessities as it had of his generosity, beat down the price till the sums they paid often represented no more than a single year’s income. Such transactions were not far removed from robbery; and the Cortes of Toledo soon came to the conclusion that the only hope of lasting financial reform lay in a resumption of the alienated lands and rents.
This decision was warmly approved by the Cardinal of Spain, the leading nobles of the Court, and Doctors of the Royal Council; but Ferdinand and Isabel were reluctant to take so large a step without further consultation.
And because this business was difficult and of great importance [says Hernando de Pulgar] the King and Queen wrote letters to all the dukes, prelates, and barons of their kingdom, who were absent from their Court, telling them of their great necessities and asking their opinion, pressing them either to come themselves or to send word what they thought should be done; and all were of opinion that the alienated estates should be restored.
It was a resolution that reflected credit on a class of men who had too often shown themselves selfish and disloyal. Many, however, like the Count of Haro who threw open his lands to the Santa Hermandad, were weary of anarchy and knew they must pay for its suppression. Others were fired by the energy and courage of their rulers, or else hoped to propitiate royal favour. Loyalty, so long dormant, was in the air.
By general consent it was agreed that the Cardinal of Spain should hold an enquiry into the tenure of estates and rents acquired during the last reign. Those that had not been granted as a reward for signal services were to be restored without compensation; while those that had been sold at a price far below their real value were to be bought back at the same sum. The delicate work of apportioning these deductions was entrusted to Isabel’s confessor, Fra Fernando de Talavera, a man respected throughout Spain for his integrity and saintly life.
His settlement cost some of the nobles the half or even the whole of their acquisitions, others some smaller fraction; but by Isabel’s command there was no revocation of gifts made to churches, hospitals, or the poor. The treasury became the richer by the substantial addition of thirty millions of maravedis, of which Henry IV.’s old favourite, Beltran de La Cueva, Duke of Alburquerque, contributed over a million. The rest of the leading nobles suffered heavily though in a less degree, nor was the Cardinal’s own family, the Mendozas, spared. “Some were ill-content,” says the chronicler, “but all submitted, remembering how these gifts had been obtained at the expense of the royal patrimony.”
In spite of their losses the nobles still remained the predominant class in wealth, as the tales of their private resources during the Moorish war bear witness. Ferdinand and Isabel themselves did not hesitate to bestow large gifts on loyal servants such as the Marquis of Moya, nor to confirm the aristocratic privilege of freedom from taxation; but the fact that they were able to curb unlawful gains shows the new spirit that had entered into Castilian life. Significant also is the social legislation of the day that forbade even dukes to quarter the royal crown on their scutcheons, or to make use of expressions such as es mi merced! “It is my will!”
The sovereign had ceased to be primus inter pares and had become a being set apart by right of peculiar dignity and power.
Such a change would have been impossible, had the Military Orders retained their old independence. They have been described as “states within a state”; for the Masters with their rich “commanderies” that they could bestow at pleasure, their fortresses and revenues, and their private armies of knights had influence and wealth nothing less than royal. The elective character of their office led almost invariably to civil war; and we have seen that, in the case of the Mastership of Santiago, when the old Marquis of Villena died, no less than seven candidates appeared in the field, ready to contest the honour.
One of these, the aged Count of Paredes, had obtained confirmation of his title many years before from Pope Eugenius IV., but had always been cheated out of its enjoyment by the greed of royal favourites. In 1476 he died, and the Chief Commander of Leon, Don Alonso de Cardenas, having mustered as large an armed force as possible hastened at once to the Convent of Uccles, where the election was to be held, to press his claims on the chapter. He had been one of Isabel’s most loyal adherents and took her sanction for granted; but unfortunately for his hopes she proved to have very different views.