The conquest and subjection of New Spain synchronised curiously with the profound crisis in, and the conquest and domination of, Old Spain by its own king, a governing genius and leader of men almost as great as was the obscure Estramaduran squireling who was adding to the newly unified crown of Spain that which was to be its richest jewel in the West. When Cortes penned his first letter to the future Emperor and his mad mother in July, 1519, telling them of the new found land, Spain was in the throes of a great convulsion. The young Flemish prince had been called to his great inheritance by the death of his grandfather, Ferdinand the Catholic, and the incapacity of his Spanish mother, Queen Juana. Charles had come to the country upon which, in a financial sense, the burden of his future widespread empire was to depend, with little understanding of the proud and ardent people over whom he was to rule. He spoke no Spanish, and he was surrounded by greedy Flemish courtiers dressed in outlandish garb, speaking in a strange tongue, and looking upon the realm of their prince as a fat pasture upon which, locust like, they might batten with impunity. The Spaniards had frowned to see the great Cardinal Jimenez curtly dismissed by the boy sovereign whose crown he had saved; they clamoured indignantly when the Flemings cast themselves upon the resources of Castile and claimed the best offices civil and ecclesiastical; they sternly insisted upon the young king taking a solemn oath that Spain in future should be for the Spaniards; and when tardily and sulkily they voted supplies of money the grant was saddled with many irritating conditions.