The History of the Reign of Ferdinand and Isabella the Catholic — Volume 3

by William Hickling Prescott

The Castilian aristocracy, it may be believed, did not much relish the new yoke imposed on them by their priestly regent. On one occasion, it is said, they went in a body and demanded of Ximenes by what powers he held the government so absolutely. He referred them for answer to Ferdinand's testament and Charles's letter. As they objected to these, he led them to a window of the apartment, and showed them a park of artillery below, exclaiming, at the same time. "There are my credentials, then!" The story is characteristic; but, though often repeated, must be admitted to stand on slender authority. [7]

One of the regent's first acts was the famous ordinance, encouraging the burgesses, by liberal rewards, to enroll themselves into companies, and submit to regular military training, at stated seasons. The nobles saw the operation of this measure too well, not to use all their efforts to counteract it. In this they succeeded for a time, as the cardinal, with his usual boldness, had ventured on it without waiting for Charles's sanction, and in opposition to most of the council. The resolute spirit of the minister, however, eventually triumphed over all resistance, and a national corps was organized, competent, under proper guidance, to protect the liberties of the people, but which, unfortunately, was ultimately destined to be turned against them. [8]

Armed with this strong physical force, the cardinal now projected the boldest schemes of reform, especially in the finances, which had fallen into some disorder in the latter days of Ferdinand. He made a strict inquisition into the funds of the military orders, in which there had been much waste and misappropriation; he suppressed all superfluous offices in the state, retrenched excessive salaries, and cut short the pensions granted by Ferdinand and Isabella, which he contended should determine with their lives. Unfortunately, the state was not materially benefited by these economical arrangements, since the greater part of what was thus saved was drawn off to supply the waste and cupidity of the Flemish court, who dealt with Spain with all the merciless rapacity that could be shown to a conquered province. [9]

The foreign administration of the regent displayed the same courage and vigor. Arsenals were established in the southern maritime towns, and a numerous fleet was equipped in the Mediterranean, against the Barbary corsairs. A large force was sent into Navarre, which defeated an invading army of French; and the cardinal followed up the blow by demolishing the principal fortresses of the kingdom; a precautionary measure, to which, in all probability, Spain owes the permanent preservation of her conquest. [10]

The regent's eye penetrated to the farthest limits of the monarchy. He sent a commission to Hispaniola, to inquire into, and ameliorate, the condition of the natives. At the same time he earnestly opposed (though without success, being overruled in this by the Flemish counsellors,) the introduction of negro slaves into the colonies, which, he predicted, from the character of the race, must ultimately result in a servile war. It is needless to remark, how well the event has verified the prediction. [11]

It is with less satisfaction that we must contemplate his policy in regard to the Inquisition. As head of that tribunal, he enforced its authority and pretensions to the utmost. He extended a branch of it to Oran, and also to the Canaries, and the New World. [12] In 1512, the new Christians had offered Ferdinand a large sum of money to carry on the Navarrese war, if he would cause the trials before that tribunal to be conducted in the same manner as in other courts, where the accuser and the evidence were confronted openly with the defendant. To this reasonable petition Ximenes objected, on the wretched plea, that, in that event, none would be found willing to undertake the odious business of informer. He backed his remonstrance with such a liberal donative from his own funds, as supplied the king's immediate exigency, and effectually closed his heart against the petitioners. The application was renewed in 1516, by the unfortunate Israelites, who offered a liberal supply in like manner to Charles, on similar terms. But the proposal, to which his Flemish counsellors, who may be excused, at least, from the reproach of bigotry, would have inclined the young monarch, was firmly rejected through the interposition of Ximenes. [13]

The high-handed measures of the minister, while they disgusted the aristocracy, gave great umbrage to the dean of Louvain, who saw himself reduced to a mere cipher in the administration. In consequence of his representations a second, and afterwards a third minister was sent to Castile, with authority to divide the government with the cardinal. But all this was of little avail. On one occasion, the co-regents ventured to rebuke their haughty partner, and assert their own dignity, by subscribing their names first to the despatches, and then sending them to him for his signature. But Ximenes coolly ordered his secretary to tear the paper in pieces, and make out a new one, which he signed, and sent out without the participation of his brethren. And this course he continued during the remainder of his administration. [14]

The cardinal not only assumed the sole responsibility of the most important public acts, but, in the execution of them, seldom condescended to calculate the obstacles or the odds arrayed against him. He was thus brought into collision, at the same time, with three of the most powerful grandees of Castile; the dukes of Alva and Infantado, and the count of Ureña. Don Pedro Giron, the son of the latter, with several other young noblemen, had maltreated and resisted the royal officers, while in the discharge of their duty. They then took refuge in the little town of Villafrata, which they fortified and prepared for a defence. The cardinal without hesitation mustered several thousand of the national militia, and, investing the place, set it on fire, and deliberately razed it to the ground. The refractory nobles, struck with consternation, submitted. Their friends interceded for them in the most humble manner; and the cardinal, whose lofty spirit disdained to trample on a fallen foe, showed his usual clemency by soliciting their pardon from the king. [15]

But neither the talents nor authority of Ximenes, it was evident, could much longer maintain subordination among the people, exasperated by the shameless extortions of the Flemings, and the little interest shown for them by their new sovereign. The most considerable offices in church and state were put up to sale; and the kingdom was drained of its funds by the large remittances continually made, on one pretext or another, to Flanders. All this brought odium, undeserved indeed, on the cardinal's government; [16] for there is abundant evidence, that both he and the council remonstrated in the boldest manner on these enormities; while they endeavored to inspire nobler sentiments in Charles's bosom, by recalling the wise and patriotic administration of his grandparents. [17] The people, in the mean while, outraged by these excesses, and despairing of redress from a higher quarter, loudly clamored for a convocation of cortes, that they might take the matter into their own hands. The cardinal evaded this as long as possible. He was never a friend to popular assemblies, much less in the present inflamed state of public feeling, and in the absence of the sovereign. He was more anxious for his return than any other individual, probably, in the kingdom. Braved by the aristocracy at home, thwarted in every favorite measure by the Flemings abroad, with an injured, indignant people to control, and oppressed, moreover, by infirmities and years, even his stern, inflexible spirit could scarcely sustain him under a burden too grievous, in these circumstances, for any subject. [18]

At length, the young monarch, having made all preliminary arrangements, prepared, though still in opposition to the wishes of his courtiers, to embark for his Spanish dominions. Previously to this, on the 13th of August, 1516, the French and Spanish plenipotentiaries signed a treaty of peace at Noyon. The principal article stipulated the marriage of Charles to the daughter of Francis the First, who was to cede, as her dowry, the French claims on Naples. The marriage, indeed, never took place. But the treaty itself may be considered as finally adjusting the hostile relations which had subsisted, during so many years of Ferdinand's reign, with the rival monarchy of France, and as closing the long series of wars, which had grown out of the league of Cambray. [19]