On the 1st of March, 1502, the Spanish army took possession, according to agreement, of the city of Tarento; and the duke of Calabria with his suite was permitted to leave it, in order to rejoin his father in France. In the mean time, advices were received from Ferdinand the Catholic, instructing Gonsalvo on no account to suffer the young prince to escape from his hands, as he was a pledge of too great importance for the Spanish government to relinquish. The general in consequence sent after the duke, who had proceeded in company with the count of Potenza as far as Bitonto, on his way to the north, and commanded him to be arrested and brought back to Tarento. Not long after, he caused him to be conveyed on board one of the men-of-war in the harbor, and, in contempt of his solemn engagements, sent a prisoner to Spain. [43]
The national writers have made many awkward attempts to varnish over this atrocious act of perfidy in their favorite hero. Zurita vindicates it by a letter from the Neapolitan prince to Gonsalvo, requesting the latter to take this step, since he preferred a residence in Spain to one in France, but could not with decency appear to act in opposition to his father's wishes on the subject. If such a letter, however, were really obtained from the prince, his tender years would entitle it to little weight, and of course it would afford no substantial ground for justification. Another explanation is offered by Paolo Giovio, who states that the Great Captain, undetermined what course to adopt, took the opinion of certain learned jurists. This sage body decided, that Gonsalvo was not bound by his oath, since it was repugnant to his paramount obligations to his master; and that the latter was not bound by it, since it was made without his privity! [44] The man who trusts his honor to the tampering of casuists, has parted with it already. [45]
The only palliation of the act must be sought in the prevalent laxity and corruption of the period, which is rife with examples of the most flagrant violation of both public and private faith. Had this been the act of a Sforza, indeed, or a Borgia, it could not reasonably have excited surprise. But coming from one of a noble, magnanimous nature, like Gonsalvo, exemplary in his private life, and unstained with any of the grosser vices of the age, it excited general astonishment and reprobation, even among his contemporaries. It has left a reproach on his name, which the historian may regret, but cannot wipe away.