Juana la Loca

by Linda Carlino

  ‘Then I humbly request that you see your faithful subjects who are come to greet you.’ Padilla knelt before her unable to believe what she had just said, it was too incredible.

  For Juana this was much too quick, too great a challenge. She began to fidget nervously, studying him warily, no longer trusting him, wondering why he was in such haste. Would she be putting herself at risk? Could she really be sure he too was not in the pay of Philip and that this was not a trap?

  So she shook her head, ‘No. You see my enemies are there and they are seeking to destroy me. No, I shall stay here where I am safe with the memories of my family for company. If only my father could be here; what can I do when he has been sent away leaving me alone and unprotected in the clutches of Philip and his evil followers? Philip, oh Philip, I do not deserve this.’ She looked down at her hands on her lap and sang,

  ‘I suffer your disfavour Yet do not complain

  And still will I love you Though there's only disdain.

  I suffer your disfavour

  Yet do not complain

  And still will I …’

  ‘Ma’am. Your royal highness,’ Padilla was desperate to release her from the song after the fourth or fifth time and watching her carefully plucking at something she imagined to be lying on her skirts.

  Juan Manuel took his elbow, ‘Seen enough? Satisfied? You can see she is quite mad.’

  Padilla turned angrily on him, shrugging himself free of Manuel’s hand, ‘I grant you that my queen is not well. But things are not right here; someone, something is at the root of all this. There are those around her, Don Manuel, who should feel shame and who one day shall be held to account. This is no way to treat the Queen of Castile. God, but I wish that I had been blind that my eyes would not have witnessed this, deaf that I would not have heard … You can be sure of this, whatever malady does afflict my lady Castile will remain loyal to her. We shall not be persuaded otherwise. She is our queen. My lords, I bid you good day. I must speak with my colleagues. Something must be done.’

  He bowed to Juana and left the room, taking with him the haunting words of her lament and an indelible picture of a tragic recluse.

  Cisneros watched him go before speaking, ‘So, Don Juan Manuel, the cities are against us; a problem for the moment, but not an insurmountable one. The next hurdle is Don Fadrique. I feel we can win him to our cause. His joining Ferdinand was only motivated by sentimentality, nothing more.’

  ‘I am most reluctant to allow this interview with the admiral as you know,’ Juan Manuel replied, ‘since he refuses to sign until he has had visual proof of her insanity. I just pray that she keeps up this perfect exhibition in his presence.’

  ‘Your attitude is offensive Don Juan Manuel. Show more respect for Queen Juana. My only concern, which should also be yours, is for Castile. We need to appoint the one best suited to govern our country. We both agree that that person is not Ferdinand, whose priority is Aragón, so it has to be Philip. We must, however, be extremely careful how we handle the delicate problem of Juana or we may push Castile into civil war.’

  ‘A civil war holds no fears for me, archbishop, the sooner the better, get it over with, put the power into the appropriate hands …’ he stopped short.

  The Admiral of Castile, the Constable of Castile, and the Bishop of Malaga entered.

  ‘Your highness.’

  Juana looked up and was delighted. Three of her old friends were here at last! She could scarcely believe it. She threw back her heavy veil and almost ran to Don Fadrique.

  ‘Uncle, uncle, I had begun to think I would never see this day.’

  He kissed her hands. She took his and would not let them

  go.‘Dearest Juana, my Juanita; how pale.’ He was saddened to

  see her once sparkling hazel eyes so darkly ringed; her lovely mouth too readily pulled down in misery. ‘It is nothing uncle. I never look well when I am with child. How many times was it rumoured in the past that I suffered consumption when it was nothing more than a pregnancy? Be assured I am well.’

  The admiral took a long look about him, ‘Juana this room is unfit for you, especially when your condition is so delicate. Why black hangings on the walls? Why no tapestries? Why no silver and gold plate? Why no ladies to attend you? And you, my pretty Juana, why dressed in plainest black with your precious face veiled and hidden deep inside your hood?’

  ‘I am in mourning.’

  ‘The time for mourning our late queen is past now. The time has come to look to the future.’

  ‘Dear uncle there is much to mourn. I mourn for those dear to me, but I also mourn for myself for the misery and hurt I am made to suffer.’ She tightened her grip on Don Fadrique's hands as she commanded Juan Manuel and Cisneros to stand aside that she and her visitors might have some privacy for their conversation. How she enjoyed this new strength drawn from her uncle.

  ‘Constable Bernardino, we have not met since your wedding in Toledo two years ago. How is my half-sister?’

  ‘You are most gracious to remember. My wife is well, I thank you.’

  ‘And my lord, Bishop of Malaga, you too are most welcome. I feel I should pinch myself to make sure this is not a dream. Am I awake, are you real?’

  ‘We are all real.’

  ‘Then tell me, uncle, for I have heard that you have been with my father; where is he now? Is he well? Philip sent him away without ever letting me see him.’

  ‘He is well, and yes, he is soon to set sail for Naples.’ Don Fadrique wanted so much to stop the tears he saw filling Juana's eyes.

  ‘Then I must write to him immediately. Come with me. As I write you must tell me all about him, what you talked about, how you are now reconciled.’

  Don Fadrique laughed, ‘It would seem that there is probably little to tell, you know so much already. Someone keeps you well informed.’

  ‘Indeed, uncle. There is my informant,’ she whispered nodding in the direction of Marta standing in the shadows.

  The letter was finished, hurriedly sanded, and given to the bishop, ‘It would be best if you hid this until you leave the palace, then see that my father receives it before he leaves for Naples.’

  She rushed to the constable and asked too loudly, ‘How do you and your wife find your new home in Burgos? Is it to your liking?’ Philip’s footsteps announced his arrival and she was alarmed that he might discover the letter.

  Juan Manuel and Cisneros standing by the door exchanged a few words with Philip as he entered. He went directly to the writing table.

  ‘An idle pen and spilled sand. Writing letters again, Juana? And who is the bearer of your tidings this time? It has to be the bishop. Hand it over good man. No? Then I shall find it myself.’

  Juana held her head, dismayed, the bishop bore the indignity of Philip's hands searching inside his clothing until, ‘Ah here we are, tucked away in its little nest, keeping warm, thinking it would be quite safe, thinking only the bishop himself would ever put his hands there. Would you believe it, Juan Manuel, the bishop has a letter in his codpiece. Such imagination for a Spanish priest! You do surprise me,’ he dropped his sarcasm. ‘Get out! You will not be permitted to enter this court ever again.’

  He read the letter. ‘Another little note from a loving daughter to her dear father; how touching.’ He tore it and flung the pieces in the air.

  Juana wept. The admiral fumed.

  ‘So, admiral, in the light of our queen’s obvious stupidity made patent by writing to the enemy Ferdinand, do you not agree that it is dangerous for her to be involved with the governing of these lands? Would it not be in everyone’s best interests to keep her out of the way?’

  ‘Not so, sire,’ the admiral controlled his anger, ‘Queen Juana is in good health and remarkably well informed. We have just enjoyed a most interesting conversation, following which I can only conclude that you have done my lady grave injustices in allowing the spreading of untruths. And, goodness me, a letter of filial devotion hardly warrants such censure.
Yes, I am of the opinion she should be sworn in as the Queen of Castile, with you as her consort. I would go further and suggest you advise your followers to forget any attempts of denying Juana her rights; they would run grave risks of angering too many of my countrymen.’ He knelt before Juana, ‘Queen Juana of Castile, the members of the Cortes are here and await your presence. Ma'am, did you hear?’

  His voice was the one voice that could persuade her despite any misgivings. It was the voice of a man who had never, would never, betray her.

  ‘Philip,’ the decision was made. ‘I am of a mind for us to be sworn in. Uncle, the Cortes may be informed that I intend to be sworn in as queen with Philip as my king consort. Now if you will all retire I shall prepare myself.’

  Chapter 31

  Juana entered the antechamber brimming with resolve. She would not be intimidated by anyone because that other Juana was here with the courage, as her brother once said, to fight for what is right and what is justly hers.

  She still chose to wear black but her robes of satin and velvet had jewelled brooches and clasps running down the length of her bodice and holding the open fronted sleeves together at her wrists and elbows. And as it was a most special occasion she had decided to wear the necklace inherited from her mother, the broad chain of exquisitely crafted gold arrows. Her mantle of black brocade was edged with ermine, and her hood had a border of delicately embroidered gold flowers. Walking towards Philip she felt content and comfortable with her appearance; and confident.

  Philip, who had arrived earlier, looked quite magnificent. Juana drank in every aspect of her handsome husband. He was in a scarlet jerkin and breeches. His knee-length gown was also scarlet with a broad ermine collar and lined with cloth of gold. Her eyes followed the heavy chain of the Golden Fleece that rested on his shoulders, nestling into the collar’s white fur and crossing that strong chest she knew so well. And his long golden hair that she had so often caressed, the tresses sliding silk-like through her fingers, today bore his ducal coronet.

  And still will I love you

  Though there’s only disdain.

  For an instant the song came back to try to haunt again. Four trumpeters announced them, rescuing her. The doors to the audience chamber were swung open. First to enter were the Kings-at-Arms wearing their tabards of office: Toledo, a gold crown on a blue field; Seville, an enthroned St. Ferdinand on a black field; Córdoba, four red bars on a gold field; Murcia, six gold crowns on a red field; Granada, a green pomegranate with its red seeds on a white field. Juana and Philip each walked behind their own quartered standard of Castile and Leon; the golden castle with three crenulated towers on a red field, and the red lion rampant with its golden crown on a white field. Juana’s standard was adorned with a collar of golden arrows, Philip’s with the collar of the Golden Fleece, and both were surmounted by a crown and the eagle of St. John.

  The members of the Cortes bowed to them as they passed. Juana looked at the grandees some of whom, possibly many, had sided with Philip. The others were for her but most probably as an act of defiance against Philip and the hated Flems; if that were so it was reason enough for the moment for it bought time for others to be persuaded. And she had all the city representatives on her side.

  She remembered a scene very similar to this from the distant past, an assembly of lords, ladies, priests, her mother and father, and she had been terrified. But that was long ago and this time she was not afraid; at least she earnestly hoped she was not afraid.

  She mounted the steps of the dais and quickly began to address them. ‘Honoured sirs, do you know and recognise me as Doña Juana?’

  ‘Your highness, we do.’ They answered, puzzled. ‘You accept that I am the legitimate daughter of Her Serene Highness Isabel the Catholic?’

  ‘Your highness, we do,’ they all affirmed still wondering. Her heart thundered, she was nearly there, ‘Then why are

  you here and not awaiting me in Toledo?’ Her voice strengthened, ‘You are all aware that Toledo is the only place where I can be sworn in as your sovereign. Toledo is the city where all our laws and the very constitution of the kingdom are formally sworn; fie on you sirs for coming here!’

  It was done. Congratulating herself she descended the steps and passed down the room, bidding adieu to the assembly.

  Philip turned to Cisneros to hiss, ‘This is enough. I am sick of this woman. But I tell you I

  will find the way to have us sworn in and then have her locked away.’

  ‘Sire, I am as desirous as you to have you crowned as soon as possible,’ Cisneros whispered, anxious because delays were already aiding Ferdinand, but annoyed at the blatant callousness of Philip. ‘Quickly, have Juan Manuel ask those questions.’

  Philip prompted his accomplice who stepped forward hushing the assembly, ‘Gentlemen, a moment longer, if you please.’

  Everyone looked from him to Juana.

  ‘With permission, ma’am, would you be generous enough to answer three questions?’

  She faced the despicable challenger undaunted.

  ‘One: do you intend to govern this land, and are you disposed to share this government with your husband, King Philip? Two: do you intend to dress appropriately and be accompanied by ladies? Three: do you intend to comport yourself as befits your state, and to end your isolation?’

  Head held high she returned to the throne on the dais. She had hoped to have had more time, to wait until they were in Toledo before revealing her true intentions, but the moment had come so she must speak.

  ‘Sirs, it appears that I must remind some among you that it is completely unacceptable for Castile to be governed by foreigners; read Queen Isabel's will and testament, clause twenty-five. A thousand shames on you, if you are one of those choosing to forget!’

  Gasps and murmurings of shock and incredulity passed from one to another.

  ‘However,’ she silenced them, ‘you may not realise that in Flanders it is inappropriate for a wife to hold precedence over her husband and I would never dishonour my husband by doing so. While on the one hand it would be in compliance with my mother’s will for me to reign with Philip as my consort, on the other it would be unacceptable to Flemish custom if I did. Now perhaps you understand my dilemma. You must appreciate therefore, that under such circumstances, it is preferable by far that my father reign until my son Charles is old enough to assume the responsibilities of the throne. That is the only way to rid us of this dreadful impasse.’

  A mixture of sounds of agreement and dissent filled the room.

  Again she silenced them. ‘Gentlemen, in response to Juan Manuel’s second question, to which I take great exception, as it is of a personal nature — I do intend to discard my mourning when the time is right. However, I refuse to have any ladies in my court; we all know my husband and his ways, and I tell you I fully intend to be saved the indignity of having any of his mistresses near me. I think it also advisable for me to distance myself from those who deny me respect and honour. I think you will find I have answered the third question regarding my demeanour and desire for solitude. You must respect my wishes to continue in this manner until the ceremony at Toledo.’

  Don Fadrique had to restrain himself from applauding, whispering instead into the ear of Don Bernardino. ‘Aye, the girl can still rise to the occasion, bless her. It is such a damned shame the devastating effect this blackguard has had on her. What will it take to help her fully recover?’

  Padilla muttered to those nearest, ‘If there was any doubt in anyone’s mind, they must now be convinced that our queen is sound of mind.’

  Philip was livid and pulled Cisneros aside, ‘Could things get any worse? It was a stupid mistake to convene the Cortes here. Now what am I to do?’

  ‘Calm yourself, sire,’ Cisneros was losing his patience with the petulant Philip. ‘Admittedly her highness gave an excellent performance, but we both know from past experience that it will not last. A change of tactics is called for. I suggest you follow my advice and not that
of Don Manuel. Make a display of your reconciliation with your wife. Start immediately by ridding yourself of your sour countenance; escort the queen from the chamber showing her deep affection and devotion.’ He stayed Philip’s frustration, ‘Trust me; this will be a far quicker and easier method to gain the crown.’

  Chapter 32

  Several weeks had passed since she had been tricked into the swearing in ceremony. (She was furious with herself for her incredible naivety, deceived by the warm affections of her ‘loving’ husband.) In those following weeks she had been held in seclusion under close guard. Then two days ago she had been brought here, to Burgos. She and Philip had apartments in her half-sister’s home, the Casa del Cordón. She had been naïve once again in assuming her sister would still be here to befriend her, but Philip had “invited them to leave” and go to their country home.

  September mornings can be very cold in Burgos and Juana and Marta were wrapped in fur lined cloaks as they strolled around the upper arcaded gallery. Down below men and horses were gathering in the courtyard. The shuffling hooves, the hearty camaraderie with calls, jests and laughter drew her to the balcony to look down.

  Someone caught sight of her, ‘Why don’t you get back to that other crone; just the sort of company you need,’ he called

  up.‘One thing is certain; they won’t wear each other out talking!’ another guffawed.

  ‘Maybe the idiot wants to go riding on a mule again!

  Now they all laughed; laughing at her, laughing at their blatant disrespect for her.

  ‘My God, yes, the lengths the stupid will go to! No one in their right mind would do what she did, riding about the countryside all night,’ another shouted up at her. This was grand sport.