He is believed to have died in 1460 at about the age of eighty-four, and in any case he outlived his nephew Íñigo López de Mendoza, who is always spoken of as the Marqués de Santillana, a title conferred on him after the battle of Olmedo in 1445. In 1414, being then a boy of eighteen, Santillana first comes into sight at the _jochs florals_ over which Villena presided when Fernando de Antequera was crowned King of Aragón; and thenceforward, till his death in 1458, Santillana is a prominent figure on the stage of history. His father was Diego Hurtado de Mendoza, Lord High Admiral of Castile; his mother was Leonor de la Vega, superior to most men of her time, or of any time, in ability, courage and determination. On both sides, he inherited position, wealth, and literary traditions, and he utilised to the utmost his advantages. He was no absent-minded dreamer: even in practical matters his success was striking. During his long minority, his mother’s crafty bravery had protected much of his estate from predatory relatives. Santillana increased it, timing his political variations with a perfect opportuneness. Beginning public life as a supporter of the Infantes of Aragón, he deserted to Juan II. in 1429, and, when the property of the Infantes was confiscated some five years later, he shared in the spoil. Alienated by Álvaro de Luna’s methods, he veered round again in 1441, and took the field against Juan II.; once more he was reconciled, and his services at Olmedo were rewarded by a marquessate and further grants of land. Apparently his nearest approach to a political conviction was a hatred of Álvaro de Luna in whose ruin he was actively concerned; but Santillana was always on the safe side, and, before declaring openly against Luna, he provided against failure by marrying his eldest son to the Constable’s niece. Baldly told, and without the extenuating pleas which partisanship can furnish, the story of those profitable manoeuvres leaves an unfavourable impression, which is deepened by Santillana’s vindictive exultation over Álvaro de Luna in the _Doctrinal de privados_. But we cannot expect generosity from a politician who has felt for years that his head was not safe upon his shoulders. Yet Santillana’s personality was engaging; he illustrated the old Spanish proverb which he himself records: ‘Lance never blunted pen, nor pen lance.’ He made comparatively few enemies while he lived, and all the world has combined to praise him since his death in 1458. The slippery intriguer is forgotten; the figure of the knight who appeared in the lists with _Ave Maria_ on his shield has grown dim. But as a poet, as a patron of literature, as the friend of Mena, as a type of the lettered noble during the early Renaissance in Spain, Santillana is remembered as he deserves to be.