by Hugh Thomas
According to Columbus, just returned to Spain after his terrible fourth voyage, the “nobles of the realm now sharpened their teeth as if they had been wild boar, in the expectation of a great mutation in the state.” In a letter to his son Diego, Columbus mentioned again how “Satan” had upset his own destiny; and he insisted that he had served their Highnesses with such diligence and love as to deserve to live in Paradise.73
Columbus never saw the Queen again, for on November 26 she entered “Pluto’s tenebrous kingdom,” as the author of Tirant lo Blanc would have put it. She received extreme unction from the Prior of La Mejorada. Fernando was present. She gave freedom to all her personal slaves—no doubt they included blacks from Africa, Berbers as well as Negroes, not to speak of Canary Islanders and men and women captured at Malaga and in Granada.74 Her body was taken to Granada and was interred there in the royal chapel of the new cathedral on December 18, her ex-confessor, the Archbishop Talavera, presiding. Subsequently, the Florentine Domenico Fancelli sculpted her likeness for a magnificent tomb.
Isabel had been a great queen. With the help of her husband, Fernando, she had established peace at home. She had tamed the nobility. Her ecclesiastical reforms alone should cause her to be remembered for her intelligence. She chose her advisers intelligently. Castile in 1504 was unrecognizable to anyone who remembered the bellicose disorder of 1474. Her reputation assisted the unity of the kingdom. Her support for Columbus had been essential to secure the “enterprise” of the Indies. With the assistance of her husband, she established institutions that lasted. For Isabel, Christianity represented truth itself. Peter Martyr wrote of her as “the mirror of virtues, refuge of good things, scourge of evil,” adding that “under the body of a woman she had always a manly spirit.”75
But great queens, like great men, make great mistakes. Her reliance in her last years—from 1492 to 1504—on Cisneros made for intolerance as well as virtue. She therefore not only sponsored the Inquisition, but also the expulsion of both Jews and Muslims. Her tomb in Granada shows her in tranquillity. It was something she never obtained in life. The death of her only son, one of her daughters, and a grandson, and the unpredictable quality of Juana la Loca cast heavy shadows over her. She suffered as well as celebrated.
17
“Children must constantly obey their parents”
King Fernando said, “You, my dear daughter, as sovereign of the realms, must choose the place where you would like to live.” In reply, Juana ventured, “Children must constantly obey their parents.”
Peter Martyr, 15071
The death of Queen Isabel in November 1504 threw her kingdoms into confusion. For a time, indeed for nearly two years, it seemed that the old bad days previous to her reign might be returning. Fernando of Aragon had been King of Castile while his wife lived. Afterwards he had no claim. That throne was now in the hands of Philip and Juana.
Part of the difficulty, however, was caused by Isabel herself, for, most surprisingly, her will was confused. In respect of the regency in Castile after her death, the Queen in her codicil even contradicted the will itself. Should Fernando, Philip of Flanders, or Cardinal Cisneros act for Juana, who was now presumed incapable?2 Fernando might now be merely ex–King Consort and King of Aragon. Yet he had banners raised for Juana as “la Reina proprietaria” as she was proclaimed, and he had himself proclaimed both governor and administrator. He returned to his favorite monastery of La Mejorada, near Medina del Campo, at the end of November 1504, went to Medina del Campo itself on December 10, and then repaired to Toro, where he remained until the end of April 1505, in order to meet the Cortes of Castile. Philip and Juana, meanwhile, remained in Flanders, the Habsburgs’ rich and creative principality, which the Emperor Maximilian, Philip’s father, had inherited from his late wife, Mary of Burgundy.
In the confusion in Castile, caused by the infirmity of poor Juana, crowds rioted in cities; noblemen seized towns to which they had no right; city councils, split into factions, were paralyzed; people sought ways to influence Juana and Philip; and even men of integrity found it difficult to know how to act.3
On January 11, 1505, Isabel’s will was read to the Cortes assembled at Toro, which declared it law, took an oath to Fernando as “administrador e gobernador,” and agreed that were Juana to be declared ill, Fernando should be permanent Regent, Philip being informed of the decision. Fernando had Castilian coins stamped “Fernando and Juana, King and Queen of Castile, León, and Aragón.”4 But all the same, many grandees, seeing the way that the wind seemed to be blowing, went to Flanders or sent messages there, to curry favor with Philip and Juana, who were both displeased at Fernando’s self-assertions. A few months before, the country had seemed full of strong men. It suddenly appeared to be peopled by vacillating dwarfs. The movement of so many aristocrats toward Philip’s side can only be explained by their longstanding suspicion of Fernando, who was, with Cisneros, the only man of quality left.
At the end of April 1505, that monarch set off, via Arévalo, for Segovia, where he remained nearly all the summer—until, indeed, mid-October. Again the harvest was disastrous; wheat in Castile was selling at 375 maravedís the fanega, while in Extremadura it was again up to 600.5 Then, because he was still desirous of having a son, Fernando contracted to remarry, to most people’s amazement and shock—to King Louis of France’s niece, Germaine de Foix. Their wedding was celebrated in Valladolid on March 22 of the next year.6
This marriage marked a reversal of Fernando’s usual policy of alliances against France. Germaine was then a pretty girl of eighteen, Fernando fifty-four. Heirs seemed likely. Further, Germaine was a Navarrese, a fact that would assist Fernando in policies toward Navarre, which he coveted. The marriage had been agreed by Fernando in return for Louis’s abandonment of any claim to Naples. Naples was, however, Germaine’s dowry. If she died childless, the damaging French claim could be revived. That said, the marriage risked the unity of the realms of Aragon and Castile that had been so carefully put together by the Catholic Kings. But a male heir would guarantee that Aragon at least would remain in the hands of a Spanish prince, not in those of a Habsburg. For Fernando, appearing as a patriot, the stakes seemed high.
It also seemed likely, meanwhile, that there might be a major quarrel between King Fernando and his son-in-law Philip over details of policy. The issue of Naples already divided them; and in September 1505, Philip, still in Flanders and desirous of breaking with the past, suspended the Inquisition in Castile. Fernando complained to the Pope.7
But then he was able to reach an agreement, the so-called Concordia de Salamanca, with the Fleming de Veyre and Andrea del Burgo, two representatives of Philip. A combined government for Castile would be formed of the three monarchs, Juana, Fernando, and Philip. The Cortes now swore allegiance at Toro to Juana and Philip as “reyes proprietarias” in their absence and to Fernando as “gobernador perpetuo.”8 On January 7, 1506, Philip and Juana embarked at Flushing, on their way to Spain. Considering that the Low Countries were Castile’s best customer for wool, and Castile was one of the Netherlands’ best export markets, there was a certain logic to the new arrangement.
As for the Inquisition, the new Inquisitor-General (Cisneros had given up), Archbishop Deza, Columbus’s old friend, wrote the following year to Philip and to Juana that he was delaying all “the suits that were pending in that year in both Seville and in other cities until their Highnesses had properly considered what they wanted to do in relation to the Holy Inquisition”—which, “pleasing God, one might hope would be soon.”9 In June 1506, Deza, in Astorga, explained that the suspension only affected criminal charges, and minor cases would continue.10
Philip and Juana were shipwrecked off England and only arrived in Corunna, in Galicia, on April 26, 1506. They stayed in the city, recovering from the journey, for a month, till May 28. Probably they went to Galicia to avoid Fernando’s coming to meet them at Laredo, or elsewhere on the northern Castilian coast. Corunna was already a major port, with a fin
e harbor. With his usual agreeable habit of exaggeration, Peter Martyr would say of it that “it has no equal. It has capacity for all the ships that plow the seas.”11 Many nobles went to greet these monarchs, if that is what they were, including the Duke of Infantado; the Admiral, Fadrique Enríquez; and even the Constable, Velasco, who had previously hesitated as to whom to support. Many bishops, including Cisneros, also gave their loyalty to Philip. Columbus wrote sycophantically to explain why he had not gone to meet them.12 Fernando’s position as ruler of Castile seemed to be crumbling.
Philip was, as Peter Martyr wrote, “harder than a diamond.”13 But that, he thought, was no bad thing in a king. He also thought that there was no one on earth more agreeable than Philip, none more brave among the princes of the time, nobody more handsome. His bearing was wonderful, his verbal subtlety impressive.14 Furthermore, any king in Spain could expect loyalty from his nobles. Yet Philip had long ago claimed, to Juana’s constant distress, the usual princely freedom from his wife.15 He was also dreaming of bringing Portugal under Spanish control, an ambition that might have occurred to any hot-blooded Fleming who had no knowledge of the real differences that existed between those countries.
King Fernando then made a curious journey. Determined to confront his son-in-law and daughter, he left Valladolid on April 28 for Dueñas, Torquemada, Palencia, Carrión de los Condes, Sahagún, and then León. At León, he sent emissaries to Philip and Juana. Among them was Peter Martyr, who, according to his own account, sought to persuade Philip not to quarrel with his father-in-law.16 A complicated dance followed, with Fernando visiting many places that no monarch had previously visited or, indeed, would ever visit again.17 Finally, in the far west of Castile, on June 20, in a farmhouse at Remesal, in the valley of Sanabria, near the Portuguese border, he met Philip, who had come equally slowly, but more directly, from Corunna, through Galicia, passing splendid Betanzos, superb Santiago, curious Ribadavia, with its deserted judería (Jewish quarter), delectable Orense, with its sacred hot waters, on the River Miño, with its exquisite wines, and finally Sanabria.18
Philip arrived at the remote rendezvous at Remesal with an army, Fernando with patience. Perhaps Juana, who spoke perfect French due to her ten years in Brussels, acted as an interpreter, as she had done in 1502 during her and Philip’s first journey to Spain.19 Fernando agreed with Philip that, contrary to what the will of Isabel had stipulated, it would be unwise to expect Juana to rule. He accepted thereafter that in Castile his son-in-law Philip should have exclusive power. Afterwards, Fernando left for Villafáfila, a tiny town in León, where, on June 27, he agreed to abandon his regency of Castile in favor of his “most beloved children” Philip and Juana. His withdrawal was an act of realism and was not what he had desired. Even the Count of Tendilla in Granada began in self-interest to turn toward Philip. Fernando went to Tudela del Duero and Renedo, where, on July 5, he again met Philip and Juana (they had come via Benavente and Mucientes). He now agreed to retire to Aragon, where he immediately, if secretly, renounced the agreement of Villafáfila.20 He was protected on this journey by the lancers of the Duke of Alba, a service that he never forgot: Alba could always count on the King afterwards for what he wanted.
Philip took over authority as King Philip I of Castile. He made his way to Valladolid, effectively the capital, and was confirmed by a Cortes there on July 12. The parliamentarians (procuradores) swore allegiance to Juana as Queen Regnant (“reina titular”), to Philip as her husband, and to their six-year-old son, Charles, far away in Flanders, as their heir. The courtier Juan Manuel, who had cultivated Philip so extensively in Flanders and was a master of intrigue, would be their chief minister. “As astute as he was energetic” was the verdict on him by a historian of the papacy.21 Fonseca, who had up till now never left the side of King Fernando, abandoned his charge of the Indies and withdrew to his bishopric of Burgos, while his assistant, Lope Conchillos, of whom Martyr speaks as being “good-natured and clever, of proven loyalty to the royal family,” was imprisoned and tortured in the castle of Vilvorde.22 With Fonseca he had plotted to try to keep Philip from power.
Philip and Juana remained in Valladolid until July 31, when they went to Cogeces de Iscar, a little town between Valladolid and Segovia. Juana feared that if she stayed in the castle there she would be locked up in it, and refused to remain, a curious but successful measure of self-preservation. On August 8 they moved to Tudela de Duero, where, remarkably, they spent three weeks. It had had a pretty Jewish quarter, now empty. Philip sent Archbishop Deza back to Seville and told him to delegate his powers as inquisitorgeneral to the Bishop of Catania, Diego Ramírez de Guzmán.23 The young joint monarchs, husband and wife, then went to Burgos. By that time, Fernando had reached Barcelona.
After spending a month there, Fernando set off on September 4 for Italy, to which he had never been though he had devoted such extraordinary care to it. He was interested in the reorganization of the political structure of Naples and anxious to replace the Gran Capitán, of whom Fernando was said to have become jealous because of his marvelous achievements, with another commander. He also had Aragonese officials in Naples whom he wished to substitute—hence the Collateral Council of Naples, at first constituted by just two lawyers, the “regents,” both imported from Aragon.24
Of Philip and Juana’s short life back at Burgos, there is little to record. King Philip played pelota at the Carthusian monastery of Miraflores. He exerted himself too much. On September 25, he played again, drank iced water afterwards, and within hours suffered a shivering fit, which grew worse. He was dead before dusk. As a biographer of Juana expressed it, the conquistador was himself conquered.25 His funeral was held the next day in that same Miraflores, an austere place for a dandy to die in. Poison was naturally alleged as the cause of death, the assassin being said to have been Luis Ferrer, a gentleman of the bedchamber, acting on behalf of Fernando. It is inconceivable. Much has been said against Fernando, but despite his enthusiasm for his Italian possessions, he has never been supposed capable of murder.
The news of the young King’s death inspired fresh riots and many difficulties, for his widow, Juana, then twenty-seven years old, was demented with grief, whatever her previous state; and her father, King Fernando, was beyond reach on the sea, having stopped at Palamos, Port Vendres, and Collioure, in Catalonia, and then at Toulon. When Philip died, Fernando was at Savona, near Genoa, the port where Columbus’s father, Domenico, was once supposed to have had an inn.
Juana came from a family that had experienced its full share of depression, and the memory of her grandmother Isabel of Portugal, who had lived demented for so long in Arévalo, alone must often have occurred to her and her family. She had what Peter Martyr calls “mental turbulence” and had certainly several times behaved uncontrollably, as when she insisted on remaining outside castles for fear of being imprisoned inside them. She had the fair hair cut off a pretty Fleming whom she suspected, probably rightly, of having an affair with her husband.26 She had failed to respond to recent offers of help from her sister Catalina (Catherine of Aragon) when in England. Still, she had often shown herself to be determined during her years in the Low Countries. She was cultivated, having been taught by the humanist Geraldini, who had been appointed to be her tutor by Queen Isabel. She had acted as a good nurse to Philip. She also had had six children by him, all of whom lived into adulthood—though perhaps that was less of a consolation to her than her youngest son, Fernando, thought it should have been.27
But after Philip died, Juana retreated into apathy, indecision, silence, and neglect of her person, passing days without eating. No one could make sense of a conversation with her. Perhaps she was not mad in the modern sense of the word—if indeed there is such a sense. But in 1506 she seemed incapable of governing, and after her opening of the tomb of her husband in the Carthusian monastery of Miraflores, Burgos, and her escort of the body toward Granada in the winter, her retreat to a monastery seems appropriate even though the treatment meted out to
her by, for example, the “odious” Aragonese guardian Luis Ferrer (the man suspected of Philip’s murder) and even the Marquis of Denia, Fernando’s cousin, seems to have been inhuman.28 The story of Juana la Loca is one of the most tragic in history. Here was a pretty and educated princess, daughter and eventual heir of the greatest of queens, once married to the heir of an empire, who seems deliberately to have chosen solitude, silence, and alienation.
The Council of the Realm in Castile faced the crisis caused by the death of Philip and the incapacity of Juana with unexpected self-confidence. A regency took shape under the chairmanship of Cardinal Cisneros, supported by the Constable, Velasco; by the Duke of Alba, Fernando’s closest friend; and by the Duke of Infantado. They sought to insist that administration remained in their hands. The “Flamencos,” on the other hand, the old supporters of Philip—the Duke of Nájera, the Marquis of Villena, and Juan Manuel—called on the Holy Roman Emperor, Maximilian, Philip’s father, to assume the regency in the name of Charles of Ghent, eldest son of Philip and Juana, the boy heir to the throne of Castile and, in the long run, of Aragon unless Queen Germaine had an heir. These plotters tried to procure the abduction of Philip’s and Juana’s second son, the Infante Fernando, from his lodging in the castle of Simancas. They were unsuccessful.
Everywhere, though, the royal law seemed for a time to falter. The now elderly Marquesa of Moya, Beatriz de Bobadilla, seized the Alcázar de Segovia, while the old rebel of the 1480s in Galicia, the Count of Lemos, besieged Ponferrada. Cardinal Cisneros had to place a hundred cavalry in Burgos to guard Juana in the castle; in the circumstances, she was less a queen than a prisoner, and so she remained. The Duke of Medina Sidonia laid siege to Gibraltar, of which he had been dispossessed by the Crown in 1502 and which was guarded by the commander Garcilaso de la Vega, who, in turn, asked for help from nearby noblemen. From Granada, the Count of Tendilla organized an expedition to relieve the place, but the Marquis of Priego refused to help him until Juana herself gave the order. Such an instruction was difficult to obtain, but Tendilla did attain his goal.
