The Complete Tudors: Nine Historical Novels

by Jean Plaidy

  “And you would support my claim?”

  “I would consider Your Highness the more likely to do good for Spain, and for that reason I would give you my support.”

  Ferdinand was relieved. Much depended on the Archbishop. It was fortunate that Philip’s reputation for licentious behavior had travelled ahead of him; it would not serve him well with Ximenes.

  “Philip is now in Galicia,” said Ferdinand. “It will take a little time for us to meet; and in the meantime, I understand that many of the grandees are flocking to him, to welcome him to Spain.”

  Ximenes nodded. “I fear the recent marriage has not endeared Your Highness to many of the late Queen’s subjects.”

  “She would not have wished me to remain unmarried.”

  “One of her most proud achievements was the union of Castile and Aragon under one crown.”

  Ferdinand’s brows were drawn together in a frown and he needed a great deal of restraint not to send this insolent fellow about his own business. But this was his business. Ximenes was Primate of Spain and he was not a man to diverge from what he considered his duty, no matter whom he upset by doing it. Such a man would go cheerfully to the stake for his opinions.

  One should rejoice in him, thought Ferdinand grudgingly. He seeks no honors for himself. He thinks only of Spain; and because he believes I shall make a better Regent than Philip he will support me.

  “There must be a speedy meeting between Your Highness and your sonin-law.”

  “Should I go cap in hand, across a country which I have ruled, to implore audience of this young man who has no right to be here except for the fact that he is married to my daughter?”

  Ximenes was silent for a few seconds; then he said: “I myself could go to him as your emissary. I could arrange this meeting.”

  Ferdinand studied the gaunt figure of the Archbishop in those magnificent robes of office which he wore carelessly and under protest. It was only an order from the Pope which had made him put on such vestments, and Ferdinand knew that beneath them he would be wearing the hair shirt, and the rough Franciscan robe. Such a man would surely overawe any—even such as Philip the Handsome.

  Ferdinand knew he could trust this affair in such hands. He was greatly relieved and it occurred to him in that moment that Isabella had been right when she had insisted on giving this man the high office of Archbishop of Toledo, even though Ferdinand had wanted it for his illegitimate son.

  It seemed that, now she was dead, Ferdinand was continually discovering how right Isabella had so often been.

  IN THE VILLAGE of Sanabria, on the borders of Leon and Galicia, Ferdinand met Philip. Philip came at the head of a large force of well-armed troops, but Ferdinand brought with him only some two hundred of his courtiers riding mules. On the right hand of Philip rode Juan Manuel, but on the right hand of Ferdinand rode Ximenes.

  The meeting was to take place in a church and, when Philip entered, only Juan Manuel accompanied him; and Ximenes was the sole companion of Ferdinand.

  Ximenes studied the young man and found that he did not despise him as he had thought he would. Philip was not merely a philanderer and seeker after pleasure. There was ambition there also. The mind of this extraordinarily handsome young man was light, and he had never learned to concentrate on one subject for long. He had been born heir to Maximilian; and consequently all his life he had been petted and pampered. But there was material there, mused Ximenes, which could be molded by such as himself; once this young man had realized the brief satisfaction which the indulgence of his sensuality could bring him, a ruler of significance might emerge.

  As for Ferdinand, he and Ximenes had never been friends. It was the Queen whom Ximenes had served from the time Isabella had brought him from his hermit’s hut until her death, when he had occupied the highest position in Spain; and although Ximenes had not—so he assured himself—ever sought such honors, since they were thrust upon him he had done all in his power to deserve them. The welfare of Spain was of the utmost importance to him. He would serve Spain with his life; and now he was ranged on the side of Ferdinand, and his great desire was to prevent civil strife between these two.

  He did not like Juan Manuel—a troublemaker and a self-seeker, decided Ximenes. His presence would hamper the proceedings greatly, for it was clear to Ximenes that Philip relied on the man.

  Ximenes turned to Juan Manuel and said: “Their Highnesses wish to speak in private. You and I should leave them for a while. Come.”

  He took Juan Manuel’s arm and with him went from the church.

  Juan Manuel was so overcome by the personality of this strange man that he obeyed without question; and when they were outside the church, Ximenes said: “Ah, but there should be someone to guard the door. It would not be well if their Highnesses were interrupted. As a man of the Church I will undertake this task. Return to your army and I will send for you immediately your presence is required.”

  Juan Manuel hesitated, but when he looked into those deep-set eyes he felt that he was in the presence of a holy man and dared not disobey. So he left Ximenes, who returned to the church, which he entered, thus joining Philip and Ferdinand.

  Ferdinand was asking Philip why his daughter had not accompanied her husband to this meeting place, for she was in truth the ruler of Castile; and Philip was explaining that his wife, alas, was not always in her right mind. There were occasions when she was lucid enough, but there were others when it was necessary to put her under restraint.

  Ferdinand accepted this. It suited him, no less than Philip, that Juana should be at times sane and at others insane. Her unbalanced state was a matter which men such as her husband and father would use according to their needs.

  It soon became clear that the advantages were all in Philip’s hands and he was not going to relinquish them. Juana was Queen of Castile; her son Charles was heir to the crowns both of Castile and Aragon. Therefore as husband of Juana and the father of the heir he had a greater right to govern Castile as Regent.

  There was nothing Ferdinand could do about that and Ximenes was aware of this. Ferdinand must sign those documents required of him; he must surrender the entire sovereignty of Castile to Philip and Juana, and all that was left to him were the grand masterships of the military orders and those revenues which Isabella had left to him in her will.

  Thus Ferdinand, in the village of Sanabria, lost all that he had so longed to hold. He was merely King of Aragon; and there was a Regent of Castile. It seemed as though the provinces were once more divided and Isabella’s dream of a united Spain might be in danger of destruction.

  Ximenes agreed that this was the only course. In any case to have refused to accept it would have meant civil war in Spain, and that was unthinkable. The Archbishop therefore decided that it was his duty to attach himself to Philip. He did not trust the young man and he felt a great desire to guide him. Moreover, as Archbishop of Toledo his place was with the ruler of Castile. But he knew how Isabella would have been saddened by this scene in the church; and Ximenes was determined that he would watch the interests of Isabella’s husband.

  As they came out of the church Ferdinand’s expression was enigmatic. Yet he did not look like an ambitious man who has signed away a kingdom.

  The Mysterious Death of Philip

  PHILIP WAS TRIUMPHANT. NOW HE WOULD RIDE INTO Valladolid and all should proclaim him as the ruler of Castile. As for Juana, he had determined to shut her away. He had long been wearied by her passion and possessiveness; Ferdinand had surrendered Castile. So why should he hesitate to go forward and take it; and since Juana was an encumbrance, why not rid himself of her by shutting her away as her grandmother had been shut away before her?

  Philip usually acted on impulse, and he immediately called together the most influential noblemen of Castile, and when they were assembled he told them how concerned he was regarding his wife’s mental state.

  “I have pondered this matter deeply, as you may well imagine,” he went on, “and it is m
y considered judgment that the Queen’s interests could best be served if she were allowed to live in retirement. My greatest desire is to do what is best for her, and on this account I ask you all to sign a declaration agreeing to her retirement into seclusion.”

  There was silence among the nobles. They could not forget that the Queen was the daughter of the great Isabella and that this young man’s only claim to the crown was through his marriage with Juana and the fact that he was the father of Charles, the boy who would immediately become their King should Juana die.

  Was it not possible, they asked themselves, that cunning men might trick them? Could they be sure that Juana was mad?

  The Admiral of Castile, who was Ferdinand’s cousin, spoke for that faction which was in doubt.

  “It would seem that, although the Queen’s mind is said to be at times deranged, there are many who declare her to be sane; and we must all remember that she is the true Queen of Castile and heir of Isabella. Before agreeing to such measures I should wish to have an interview with the Queen.”

  Philip was nonplussed. He had no wish for Juana to come face to face with these men. How could he be sure of what she would say to them? He might threaten Juana or bribe her with offers of his company as he had on other occasions; but Juana was growing suspicious. If she were mad she was not without cunning. She guessed that he was considering putting her away, and that was something against which she would fight with all her strength.

  But he dared not refuse to allow the Admiral to see the Queen.

  JUANA LIFTED LEADEN EYES to the Admiral’s face. He was regarding her with kindness; he was trying to tell her that he was her cousin; that it grieved him to see Castile ruled by one who was not related to them except by his marriage to her.

  “You have recently seen my father?” asked Juana at length.

  “Yes, Highness. I said farewell to him but yesterday. That was at Tudela. He is now on his way to Aragon.”

  “It seems so strange. I did not see him. It is so many years since I have seen him; yet I, his daughter, did not see him.”

  “That is strange, Highness, and sad.”

  Her eyes were melancholy.

  “So much that is strange would seem to happen to me now,” she said sadly. “I should have been so happy to see my father, even though he has a new wife now and I cannot understand how he could have replaced my mother. But I should dearly have liked to see him again. God guard him always.”

  “Highness, we of Castile wish to see you govern side by side with your husband.”

  She nodded.

  “That is the wish of us all. Our great Queen Isabella appointed you her heir. It was her wish that you should govern Castile with your husband beside you. But, as her daughter, you are our Queen.”

  At the mention of her mother Juana’s expression lightened a little.

  “It was her wish,” she said. “Here in Castile I recall the past so much more readily than I did in Flanders. It was her wish, was it not? And it is true that I am Queen of Castile.”

  “It is true, Highness,” answered the Admiral.

  When he left her he went to his friends and gave them his opinion.

  “She seemed as lucid as one could wish. We must guard against ambitious men.”

  THE KNOWLEDGE CAME to Juana one morning when she awoke after a restless night which she had spent alone.

  He wants to be rid of me, she thought. He is planning to put me away.

  Where had he spent the night? With one of his women doubtless. He had never considered her feelings, and he wanted her out of his sight. It was not because she was in the way of his having other women, but because he wanted her crown. He did not wish to be merely her consort. He wanted to rule alone.

  She would not part with her crown. It was the one possession which made her desirable to him.

  The dull melancholy had left her eyes. They sparkled with purpose. She would show him now that she was ready to fight, that she was not as stupid as he thought.

  He came to her apartments, all smiles.

  They were to make a solemn entry into Valladolid, and he dared not go without her. The people were suspicious of him; they wanted to see their Queen. They would not accept his word for her madness, but wanted to judge for themselves.

  Ah, Philip, she thought, you may be master of Castile’s Queen but you are not yet master of Castile.

  He took her hand and kissed it; how gracious he could be, how charming! She yearned to throw herself into his arms, but she was able to restrain herself because she kept thinking of the castle of Arevalo where her grandmother had lived out her clouded days.

  Not for me! she wanted to shout. I am Queen of Castile and I will not allow you to put me away.

  “Are you ready for the ceremony?” he asked.

  “Ready,” she countered, “and determined to accompany you.”

  “I am glad to hear it.”

  “Are you, Philip? I thought you were hoping that you would go alone.”

  “But why should you have such an idea?”

  She smiled, saying nothing, and the quietness of her smile alarmed him. Could it be that he was losing his hold over her?

  “I thought that in your condition…”

  “But three months’ pregnant. That is nothing, Philip.”

  He could scarcely bear to look at her, he was so dismayed. Now that he wished her to show her madness she was being perfectly restrained. She did not cling to him as he had become accustomed to her doing. She seemed almost aloof. It was that Admiral of Castile who had put notions into her head. He would have to go a little warily where she was concerned.

  He put his arms about her and held her against him. “I am concerned for your health,” he said, and when he felt her body quiver a triumphant smile curved his lips. The old power was still there. She was fighting a desperate battle to resist it, but he was determined it should be a losing battle.

  “Your concern is appreciated,” she said, “the more so because it is rare.”

  “Oh come, Juana, you know how fond I am of you.”

  “I did not know. Perhaps because your ways of showing it are so strange.”

  “You have allowed yourself to be jealous…unnecessarily.”

  “That was foolish of me,” she said. “Now that I am in Castile I remember so much my mother taught me. I hear that there are two banners. I should like to see them.”

  “They shall be brought to you,” said Philip, hiding his chagrin. This new calmness, this undoubted sanity, was more disturbing than her madness, and he was going to strain every effort to have her put away because, if she persisted like this, he would find himself in a similar position to that endured by Ferdinand in his relationship with Isabella. That was something Philip would never endure.

  But for the time he must act cautiously.

  The banners were brought and Juana studied them. “But it would seem,” she said, “that there are two rulers of Castile. There is only one; that is the Queen.”

  “Have you forgotten that I am your husband?” demanded Philip hotly.

  “In the past you have forgotten that more readily than I have. My husband you are indeed; that is why you ride beside me as my consort. But there is only one ruler of Castile.”

  What could he say? He was surrounded by strong men who would be ready to fly to her support against him. Philip had not believed this situation possible; but when they came to Valladolid, Juana rode as the Queen of Castile, and her companion was not the King but merely her consort.

  Mounted on her white jennet, dressed in the sable robes of royalty, Juana delighted the people of Valladolid. They remembered that this was the daughter of their own Isabella; and their cheers were for their Queen.

  PHILIP WAS DISSATISFIED. The Cortes had declared its allegiance to Queen Juana and had stated its willingness to accept Philip only as her consort.

  Philip fumed with rage.

  “The Queen is mad!” he cried. “She is not in the least like her mother. Sometim
es I wonder who is the madder—the Queen or the people who insist on making her their ruler.”

  The Admiral of Castile stood firm.

  “I and many others with me will not allow this iniquitous deed to be done,” he said. “We shall never stand aside and see our Queen sent into seclusion that others may rule in her stead.”

  Philip saw that it was no use expecting help from the Castilian nobles; he turned to his own supporters, the chief of whom was Juan Manuel, who saw that with Philip as ruler many rich pickings would fall into his hands. He was continually at Philip’s side and he assured him that in good time they would achieve their end, and Juana would be forced into retirement leaving the field clear for Philip.

  Philip was lavishly generous to those whom he considered to be his friends, and recklessly he distributed revenues to them which should have gone to the maintenance of the state. Juan Manuel, on whom he relied as on no other, was becoming richer every week; but Juan was rapacious; he had been led to Philip’s side because he believed that Ferdinand had denied him the honors due to him, and he could not grasp enough.

  He greatly desired the Alcazar of Segovia which was in the charge of the Marquis and Marchioness of Moya—the latter was that Beatriz de Bobadilla who had been Isabella’s greatest friend—and Philip, deciding that the Alcazar should be given to Juan Manuel as a reward for his fidelity, sent orders to the Marquis and Marchioness to leave the Alcazar immediately.

  The command was delivered into the hands of the intrepid Beatriz de Bobadilla, who retorted that the Alcazar should be handed over to one person only, and that was Isabella’s daughter, Queen Juana.

  Philip was furious when he heard this and sent troops ahead to take the Alcazar, while he himself prepared to follow them, Juana with him.

  Juana’s resistance was beginning to break down. The effort of remaining calm had been too much for her. If she could have overcome her passionate need of Philip she could have continued in her calm restraint; but he was always there, always taunting her, understanding how she needed him and enjoying baiting her in this way. He was luring her to display her hysteria before the nobles of Castile who had declared her to be sane. She knew this, but she could not always fight against it. And when he mocked her, she wanted to throw herself into his arms, as she had done on so many previous occasions, and implore him to be a good and faithful husband to her.