Katharine of Aragon (27 page)

“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. Sometimes 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.

“Philip,” she said, “why are you so eager to take the Alcazar of Segovia?”

“Because that insolent woman has denied it to us.”

“She is a formidable woman. I remember her in my childhood. She would even advise my mother.”

“She will see that we will brook none of her insolence.”

“Yet she was a good friend. Should you not leave her in peace out of respect to my mother?”

“I leave no one in peace to insult me.”

His mouth tightened and the newly realized fear came back to her.

“Why do you want the Alcazar of Segovia?”

He did not answer. “I know,” she cried. “It is because you want to make me a prisoner there. Segovia will be for me what Arevalo was to my grandmother. You are going to shut me away…away from the world. You are going to make them believe I am mad.”

Still he did not answer.

She went on wildly: “I will go no further. I will not be put away. I am not mad. I am the Queen. You wish to take my crown from me, but you shall not.”

Philip laid a hand on her jennet's bridle, but she hit him. She heard his low, devilish laugh.

Now she was really alarmed; now she was certain that her premonition was true. He was going to imprison her in Segovia and announce to the world that she was no longer capable of living among ordinary people.

She slid down from her jennet and lay on the ground.

“I will not go a step farther towards Segovia,” she announced.

The cavalcade had halted and Philip was delighted. Now there was going to be one of those scenes which surely must convince all who saw it of her madness.

“Mount your jennet,” he said quietly. “They will be waiting for you at Segovia.”

There seemed to be a grave threat behind his words which terrified her, and she lay writhing on the ground.

Philip leaped from his horse and bent over her with a show of tenderness.

“Juana,” he said audibly, “I pray you remount. Do you want everyone to say that you are mad?”

She looked into his eyes and she was afraid of him; and yet she knew that her great fear was not that she would be shut away from the world but that she would be shut away from him.

She rose obediently and mounted her jennet; then she turned away from the party and cried: “I shall not enter Segovia, because I know that you plan to lock me away in the Alcazar there.”

Then she galloped ahead of them across country and back again, refusing to ride towards Segovia or back the way they had come.

Dusk had fallen and night came; and Juana continued to ride back and forth over the country round Segovia, determined not to enter the town.

Philip thought: If ever anyone doubted her madness, can they do so any longer?

Nothing could have pleased him more.

Such conduct in the Queen of Castile could scarcely be called sanity.

PHILIP'S TROOPS
had driven Beatriz de Bobadilla from Segovia, and the Alcazar was now in the possession of Juan Manuel.

There was a certain discontent throughout Castile that this foreigner should come among them and take their castles with their revenues and distribute them among his friends. Soon, it was said, all the strongholds of Castile would be in the hands of Philip's followers, and the old Castilian nobility would have no power in the land.

Philip had decided against going into Segovia, as Juana showed such fear of the place, and had gone instead to Burgos where he, Juana and their party lodged at the palace of the Constable of Castile, who belonged to the Enriquez family and was related to Ferdinand.

In view of Juana's strange conduct on the way to Segovia Philip felt justified in putting guards outside her apartments, so that she was to some extent under supervision.

The Constable's wife, who was the hostess to the party, expressed her concern that the Queen should be treated so, and as a result Philip ordered her to leave the palace.

This seemed the utmost arrogance, and the whisperings against the Queen's consort intensified; but Philip cared little for this and laughed with Juan Manuel at the Castilians. He had the troops and they would enforce his wishes. He did not doubt that before long he would have Juana put right away finally and he himself would be accepted as ruler in very truth.

“In the meantime,” he said, “we should celebrate our victories, my dear Juan. The Alcazar of Segovia has fallen into our hands; and now we might say that the same has happened to this palace of Burgos. Once we have rid ourselves of that interfering woman the place is ours. Do you not think that that is worthy of a little celebration?”

“Very worthy, Highness,” agreed Juan.

“Then see to it. Arrange a banquet, a ball; and I will show these Spaniards how the Flemings can beat them at all sport.”

“It shall be done.”

While they talked together a page arrived to tell Philip that an envoy from Ferdinand had arrived at Burgos.

“Let him be brought to me,” said Philip; and when the page had gone he smiled at Juan Manuel.

“What dispatches are these my worthy father-in-law sees fit to send me, I wonder?”

“Oh, there is nothing to fear from him. The old lion has had his teeth drawn. He will find it a different matter being merely King of Aragon instead of Spain.”

“My mother-in-law kept the fellow in his place. She must have been a strong-minded woman.”

Juan Manuel looked serious for a moment. When he remembered the great Queen Isabella he could not help wondering what she would say if she could see him now, a traitor to her husband.

He shrugged aside the thought; Ferdinand's conduct would not have pleased her either, he reflected. It seemed to him that if the great Queen could come alive again she would be so saddened by her husband's conduct that she would have little thought to spare for Juan Manuel.

Philip was his master now, and it was Philip whose interests were his own.

“It will be interesting to see what dispatches this fellow has brought,” went on Philip. “You may remain, and we will study them together.”

A few minutes later the page returned with Ferdinand's envoy.

“Don Luis Ferrer,” he announced.

And Ferdinand's envoy was bowing before the man who was certain that before long he would be sole ruler of Castile.

THE CELEBRATIONS
were magnificent. Juan Manuel had arranged them to appeal to his master. He wished to show his gratitude for all the benefits which had come his way since he had entered Philip's service; he wished him to know that he would continue to lay all his skill at his master's feet.

Juana was allowed to partake in the celebrations.

Juan had said: “It would be unwise at this stage to shut her away completely. Wait until more fortresses have come into our hands.”

“Rest assured,” said Philip, “there will be others as important as Segovia and Burgos.”

“Let her show the people that she is truly mad. Then they cannot complain.”

Philip agreed with this. But he had made up his mind that he was going to put her away in as complete a seclusion as that in which her grandmother had passed the last years of her life.

Juana joined in the feasting. There were days when she was very gay, and others when she was overcome by her melancholy. There were times when she calmly received the homage of all; there were others when she shut herself away in her apartments.

She called her father's envoy, Luis Ferrer, to her and demanded to hear news of her father, of whether he spoke often of her or any of her sisters; of how he lived with his new wife.

Luis Ferrer was eager to talk to her of Ferdinand, and Manuel was afraid that he was trying to bring about a meeting between father and daughter which, he was sure, could only result in harm to Philip.

“We should watch this Luis Ferrer,” he said to Philip. “It is my belief that the fellow is here for no good purpose.”

The peak of the celebrations was planned to take place on a warm September day. There was to be a banquet more lavish than any of those of the last few days, and afterwards there would be ball games, because Philip excelled at these and he was very eager to show the Castilians what he called his superior Flemish skill.

Juana was present at the banquet. She had rarely seen her husband so gay, and she thought how beautiful he was and how in comparison all others— men and women—seemed ugly and lacking in grace.

Beside her at the table was Luis Ferrer, and she was glad of this because
she knew that it disturbed Philip to see them together, and that meant that, while she was with Ferrer, at least Philip was thinking of her.

As soon as the banquet was over the ball games began and here Philip certainly did excel, for he beat all his opponents. Yet how could one be sure, Juana wondered, whether his opponents felt it would be wise to let him win? Nevertheless he played with great skill and she was momentarily happy to see him flushed and taking a boyish pride in his achievements.