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

by William Hickling Prescott

With another offender he dealt more sternly. This was Don Pedro de Cordova, marquis of Priego, who, the reader may remember, when quite a boy, narrowly escaped the bloody fate of his father, Alonso de Aguilar, in the fatal slaughter of the Sierra Vermeja. This nobleman, in common with some other Andalusian lords, had taken umbrage at the little estimation and favor shown them, as they conceived, by Ferdinand, in comparison with the nobles of the north; and his temerity went so far, as not only to obstruct the proceedings of one of the royal officers, sent to Cordova to inquire into recent disturbances there, but to imprison him in the dungeons of his castle of Montilla.

This outrage on the person of his own servant exasperated the king beyond all bounds. He resolved at once to make such an example of the offender, as should strike terror into the disaffected nobles, and shield the royal authority from the repetition of similar indignities. As the marquis was one of the most potent and extensively allied grandees in the kingdom, Ferdinand made his preparations on a formidable scale, ordering, in addition to the regular troops, a levy of all between the ages of twenty and seventy throughout Andalusia. Priego's friends, alarmed at these signs of the gathering tempest, besought him to avert it, if possible, by instant concession; and his uncle, the Great Captain, urged this most emphatically, as the only way of escaping utter ruin.

The rash young man, finding himself likely to receive no support in the unequal contest, accepted the counsel, and hastened to Toledo, to throw himself at the king's feet. The indignant monarch, however, would not admit him into his presence, but ordered him to deliver up his fortresses, and to remove to the distance of five leagues from the court. The Great Captain soon after sent the king an inventory of his nephew's castles and estates, at the same time deprecating his wrath, in consideration of the youth and inexperience of the offender.

Ferdinand, however, without heeding this, went on with his preparations, and, having completed them, advanced rapidly to the south. When arrived at Cordova, he ordered the imprisonment of the marquis. A formal process was then instituted against him before the royal council, on the charge of high treason. He made no defence, but threw himself on the mercy of his sovereign. The court declared, that he had incurred the penalty of death, but that the king, in consideration of his submission, was graciously pleased to commute this for a fine of twenty millions of maravedies, perpetual banishment from Cordova and its district, and the delivery of his fortresses into the royal keeping, with the entire demolition of the offending castle of Montilla. This last, famous as the birth-place of the Great Captain, was one of the strongest and most beautiful buildings in all Andalusia. [29] Sentence of death was at the same time pronounced against several cavaliers, and other inferior persons concerned in the affair, and was immediately executed.

The Castilian aristocracy, alarmed and disgusted by the severity of a sentence, which struck down one of the most considerable of their order, were open in their remonstrances to the king, beseeching him, if no other consideration moved him in favor of the young nobleman, to grant something to the distinguished services of his father and his uncle. The latter, as well as the grand constable, Velasco, who enjoyed the highest consideration at court, were equally pressing in their solicitations. Ferdinand, however, was inexorable; and the sentence was executed. The nobles chafed in vain; although the constable expostulated with the king in a tone, which no subject in Europe but a Castilian grandee would have ventured to assume. Gonsalvo coolly remarked, "It was crime enough in Don Pedro to be related to me." [30]

This illustrious man had had good reason to feel, before this, that his credit at court was on the wane. On his return to Spain, he was received with unbounded enthusiasm by the nation. He was detained by illness a few days behind the court, and his journey towards Burgos to rejoin it, on his recovery, was a triumphal procession the whole way. The roads were thronged with multitudes so numerous, that accommodations could scarcely be found for them in the towns on the route. [31] For they came from the remotest parts of the country, all eager to catch a glimpse of the hero, whose name and exploits, the theme of story and of song, were familiar to the meanest peasant in Castile. In this way he made his entry into Burgos, amid the cheering acclamations of the people, and attended by a cortège of officers, who pompously displayed on their own persons, and the caparisons of their steeds, the rich spoils of Italian conquests. The old count of Ureña, his friend, who, with the whole court, came out by Ferdinand's orders to receive him, exclaimed with a prophetic sigh, as he saw the splendid pageant come sweeping by, "This gallant ship, I fear, will require deeper water to ride in than she will find in Castile!" [32]

Ferdinand showed his usual gracious manners in his reception of Gonsalvo. It was not long, however, before the latter found that this was all he was to expect. No allusion was made to the grand-mastership. When it was at length brought before the king, and he was reminded of his promises, he contrived to defer their performance under various pretexts; until, at length, it became too apparent, that it was his intention to evade them altogether.

While the Great Captain and his friends were filled with an indignation, at this duplicity, which they could ill suppress, a circumstance occurred to increase the coldness arising in Ferdinand's mind towards his injured subject. This was the proposed marriage (a marriage which, from whatever cause, never took place [33]) of Gonsalvo's daughter Elvira, to his friend the constable of Castile. [34] Ferdinand had designed to secure her large inheritance to his own family, by an alliance with his grandson, Juan de Aragon, son of the archbishop of Saragossa. His displeasure, at finding himself crossed in this, was further sharpened by the petulant spirit of his young queen. The constable, now a widower, had been formerly married to a natural daughter of Ferdinand. Queen Germaine, adverting to his intended union with the lady Elvira, unceremoniously asked him, "If he did not feel it a degradation to accept the hand of a subject, after having wedded the daughter of a king?" "How can I feel it so," he replied, alluding to the king's marriage with her, "when so illustrious an example has been set me!" Germaine, who certainly could not boast the magnanimity of her predecessor, was so stung with the retort, that she not only never forgave the constable, but extended her petty resentment to Gonsalvo, who saw the duke of Alva from this time installed in the honors he had before exclusively enjoyed, of immediate attendance on her royal person whenever she appeared in public. [35]

However indifferent Gonsalvo may have been to the little mortifications inflicted by female spleen, he could no longer endure his residence at a court, where he had lost all consideration with the sovereign, and experienced nothing but duplicity and base ingratitude. He obtained leave, without difficulty, to withdraw to his own estates; where, not long after, the king, as if to make some amends for the gross violation of his promises, granted him the royal city of Loja, not many leagues from Granada. It was given to him for life, and Ferdinand had the effrontery to propose, as a condition of making the grant perpetual to his heirs, that Gonsalvo should relinquish his claim to the grandmastership of St. Jago. But the latter haughtily answered, "He would not give up the right of complaining of the injustice done him, for the finest city in the king's dominions." [36]

From this time he remained on his estates in the south, chiefly at Loja, with an occasional residence in Granada, where he enjoyed the society of his old friend and military instructor, the count of Tendilla. He found abundant occupation in schemes for improving the condition of his tenantry, and of the neighboring districts. He took great interest in the fate of the unfortunate Moriscoes, numerous in this quarter, whom he shielded as far as possible from the merciless grasp of the Inquisition, while he supplied teachers and other enlightened means for converting them, or confirming them in a pure faith. He displayed the same magnificence and profuse hospitality in his living that he had always done. His house was visited by such intelligent foreigners as came to Spain, and by the most distinguished of his countrymen, especially the younger nobility and cavaliers, who resorted to it, as the best school of high-bred and knightly courtesy, He showed a lively curiosity in all that was going on abroad, keeping up his information by an extensive correspondence with agents, whom he regularly employed for the purpose in the principal European courts. When the league of Cambray was adjusted, the king of France and the pope were desirous of giving him the command of the allied armies. But Ferdinand had injured him too sensibly, to care to see him again at the head of a military force in Italy. He was as little desirous of employing him in public affairs at home, and suffered the remainder of his days to pass away in distant seclusion; a seclusion, however, not unpleasing to himself, nor unprofitable to others. [37] The world called it disgrace; and the old count of Ureña exclaimed, "The good ship is stranded at last, as I predicted!" "Not so," said Gonsalvo, to whom the observation was reported; "she is still in excellent trim, and waits only the rising of the tide, to bear away as bravely as ever." [38]