Such was the revised machinery of government, revealing already that decisively bureaucratic stamp that was to be so marked a feature of its later development. Obvious also was its fatal dependence on the Crown, the motive power alone capable of supplying the councils with initiative, nor could any counterpoise to sovereignty be hoped for in the type of official now prominent. The exaltation of the Crown was the first article of belief for lawyers steeped in Justinian’s code with its theories of imperial absolutism. Yet it must be remembered that, although this system contained within itself the germs of tyranny, in the early days of Ferdinand and Isabel’s rule centralized power stood for the triumph of right over wrong, of order over anarchy. By no other means could these ends have been so effectively and speedily won. “Justice, which seems to have abandoned other lands,” wrote Peter Martyr in 1492, “pervades these kingdoms.” It had been bought by the sovereigns at the price of unflagging industry and watchfulness, now employed in a struggle against foreign enemies or subject rebels, now against the prejudices of class or community, now against the corruption of trusted officials. Sometimes the chief enemy to be faced was bewilderment,—the difficulty of administering a law that was not one but many. The judge must have a clear head who could steer his way through the mazes of the old “Fuero Juzgo” of the Gothic kings, or the later compilations of Castilian sovereigns, such as the “Fuero Real,” the “Siete Partidas,” or the “Ordenamiento de Alcalá.” Even these did not cover the field of legislation, further complicated by local charters and royal edicts, involving a thousand variations and discrepancies. After the matter had been discussed in the Cortes of Toledo, a noted jurist, Alfonso Diaz de Montalvo, undertook by the Queen’s command the task of clearing away the rubbish and compiling what remained into a comprehensive code. Within four years the work stood completed in eight bulky volumes, and the “Ordenanzas Reales” took their place on the legal bookshelves; but though undoubtedly of great authority the new compilation failed to fulfil the general expectations. A study of its pages revealed not only mistakes and repetitions, but also many serious omissions; while a further publication by the same author a few years later scarcely proved more satisfactory. So conscious was Isabel of these defects that in her will she entreated her daughter, Joanna, “to select a learned and conscientious bishop and other persons wise and experienced in the law,” that they might undertake this formidable task anew.