Juan II was unfortunate in living when he did. Peace-loving and amiable, one of the greatest patrons of letters who ever ruled in Spain, he was not without considerable gifts of mind, but utterly unfitted to hold the reins of government in a state during the crucial period of struggle between the aristocratic and democratic principles. Alvaro de Luna, though greedy and intolerant, ruled on the whole not unwisely, with a view to the increase of the power of the crown, and with a strong king to support him the latter might have become supreme over both elements, as his great-grandson did.
But though his long reign was politically a failure, it marks a period of social splendour at court and almost universal luxury such as had never been seen in Spain before; while Castilian letters, under the patronage of the king, reached one of those culminating points of development which appear in Spain at intervals of about two centuries. With the advance of culture and the arts of peace the old rough epics of an earlier time and the didactic verse that followed had become unfashionable; and in the early fifteenth century, both in the courts of Castile and Aragon, lyric poetry and chronicles of romantic incident became the rage. From King Juan II and Alvaro de Luna downward, almost every noble and knight wrote verses of some sort; and of the 136 poets who wrote the songs in the Cancionero General (Valencia, 1511), probably more than half belonged to the court of Juan II, while in the Cancionero de Baena the proportion must be still larger. Music, dances, theatrical interludes, and poetic competitions were the favourite diversions which kept the king amused, while Alvaro de Luna governed according to his will.i
The reign of Henry IV, surnamed the Impotent, was even more disastrous than that of his father. That this surname was not undeserved, we have the testimony of his own wife, Blanche of Navarre, whom he led to the altar in 1440, and who, after a union of thirteen years, could complain that the debitum conjugale remained unpaid. On this ground, in 1453, the marriage was annulled. After his accession, however, he obtained the hand of a Portuguese infanta.
From his rebellious conduct towards his own father, it could scarcely be expected that he would be allowed to sway the sceptre in peace. Besides the disputes which he had with the crowns of Navarre and Aragon, he was perpetually subjected to the insults no less than the defiance of his turbulent nobles, and to the partial revolts of the people whom the exactions of his revenue officers never failed to exasperate. In 1457 a league was formed against him, just as it had been against the late king, and composed of the most influential barons and ecclesiastics: among these was Henry’s favourite Pacheco, for whom he had obtained the marquisate of Villena, and whom he had laden with honours and wealth. Their complaints were that the business of administration was neglected; that the king kept aloof from the hereditary advisers of his crown, and associated with individuals of low birth [these included numerous Moors], on whom he lavished his resources to the great detriment of the state. Whatever might be his other faults, he was naturally mild, and disposed to cherish his people; to their remonstrance he replied that he would convoke his cortes, and do whatever they advised him. They accordingly disbanded. But he soon abandoned himself to new favourites.
In the meantime, the confederates again proceeded to strengthen their league: made a second petition, drawn up in more decided terms than the preceding; and, besides, insisted that the king should pay more regard to the education of the infantes, Alfonso and Isabella, and cause the former to be recognised as his heir by the states of the kingdom. As his answer was evasive, they again placed the king of Aragon and Navarre[47] at their head, and laboured by every means to obstruct the course of his government. Hostilities between him and that monarch were the consequence; but they led to nothing, especially as from time to time he found means to gain over several of the discontented lords. His satisfaction was increased by the pregnancy of his queen; who, early in 1462, was delivered of a daughter, the infanta Juana or Joanna. Though popular report did not hesitate to assign the child to the familiarity of the mother with Don Beltran de la Cueva, count of Ledesma, one of Henry’s favourites, and even applied to that issue the significant epithet of Beltraneja, the latter was not the less eager in securing the recognition of the princess as heiress to his dominions.
Henry IV
At length the marquis of Villena, the very soul of the league, being disappointed in his expectation of the grand-mastership of Santiago, which was conferred on the count of Ledesma, formed no less a project than that of arresting both king and queen, of proclaiming Alfonso, and, in concert with his confederates, of reigning under the name and authority of that young prince. Being seasonably warned by four faithful servants, the king avoided the snare. Nevertheless in a subsequent interview he agreed that his brother Alfonso should be declared his heir; that Don Beltran should resign the grand-mastership of Santiago in favour of that infante, who should be consigned to the guardianship of the marquis of Villena. Early in the following year (1465), these conditions were punctually performed: Beltran resigned the dignity, with which Alfonso was immediately invested; and that infante, on engaging to marry the Beltraneja, was, at the same time, proclaimed prince of the Asturias, and successor to the throne. But Henry’s unexampled concessions were insufficient. Henry summoned them to lay down their arms, and to surrender his brother, and went to invest Arevalo, one of their fortresses: that siege, however, he soon raised on hearing that Valladolid had declared for Alfonso, whom the rebels were conducting to Avila, to be there proclaimed king of Leon and Castile.
The scene which now disgraced Avila was one of unparalleled effrontery. In the midst of the plain, near the walls of the city, a vast theatre was constructed; in the centre rose a throne, on which was placed an effigy of Henry with a crown on the head, a sceptre in the hand, and other ensigns of royal dignity. A herald ascended the platform and read, in a loud voice, the various charges that had long been urged against the administration of the king—his neglect of justice, his incapacity, the outrages which he had committed against his kingdom and nobles; hence, that, in conformity with reason and justice, no less than the fundamental laws of the realm, the said Henry had been pronounced by the most eminent civilians to be unfit any longer to wear the crown, and that his deposition was imperiously demanded by the interests of the nation. This decision was justified by an allusion to other kingdoms, which, in various periods of history, had been compelled to depose their rulers.
No sooner was this strange homily finished than the archbishop of Toledo, with the marquis of Villena, the count of Plasencia, the grand-master of Alcantara, and other barons, ascended the platform, and approached the statue. The first took off the royal crown; the second snatched away the sceptre; the third, the sword; a fourth stripped off the kingly robe; a fifth and sixth, the other emblems of royalty: all six then simultaneously kicked the statue from the chair, and precipitated it to the ground, loading it with curses and the most insulting terms of reproach. Alfonso was next brought on the stage, and was elevated on the shoulders of the nobles, who exclaimed, “Castilla! Castilla! para el rey Don Alfonso!” The flourish of trumpets, the beating of drums, and the homage solemnly rendered to the new king, completed the scene.
Henry was naturally anxious to punish the rebels, but their attitude was too formidable for him. They continued under arms, besieging fortress after fortress, and wreaking vengeance alike on their personal and political enemies. During these troubles there was a total relaxation of the laws; numerous bands of robbers paraded the highways, and not infrequently pillaged the towns of the kingdom; until the inhabitants formed themselves into voluntary confederations for the protection of their persons and properties. Thus continued the face of affairs until 1467, when Henry resolved to risk a battle with the rebels. He met them near Olmedo, where, after a fierce but indecisive struggle, both armies left the field, each boasting of the victory. While each was collecting reinforcements to try the event of another action, arrived a papal legate, who endeavoured to reduce the rebels to reason, and who was so imprudent as to threaten them with the thunders of the church unless they laid down their arms and submitted their complaints to arbitration. Three hundred tongues hooted him from the camp of the confederates: to avoid something worse, he hastily mounted his mule, and fled. This event, however, did not prevent the king from meeting the leaders at Segovia, where a suspension of arms was agreed on. The following year his rival, the infante Alfonso, died—an event highly favourable to the king.
The rebels, indeed, proposed to raise the infanta Isabella, his sister, to the throne, and thereby perpetuate their own impunity; but that princess, who had principles and an understanding far above her years, refused to become the tool of a few factious rebels. Finally, peace was made: Isabella and Henry met with every appearance of good will; and that princess was recognised, both by him and the great body of the barons and deputies as the undoubted heiress of the two crowns. The queen, indeed, protested against this arrangement in favour of her daughter; but her complaints passed unheeded.
In the same year was laid the foundations of a union which was to prove of such unbounded value to Spain; Juan II of Aragon solicited the hand of Isabella of Castile for his son and heir Don Ferdinand, king of Sicily. The overture was formally received by the princess; but obstacles of so formidable a nature intervened that, for some time, there was little hope of a successful issue to the negotiations. Neither the king nor the queen wished to see the cause of Isabella supported by so powerful a neighbour as the future monarch of Aragon would necessarily be. Besides, several barons, who had followed the fortunes of Henry, and procured great estates at the expense of the infanta’s adherents, naturally dreaded her accession in any case, especially if there should be a junction of her power with that of Aragon.
Queen Isabella
Such, however, was the eagerness of Juan to conclude the match; such the sums he distributed among the Castilian nobles; and so powerful the interference of the archbishop of Toledo in the cause, that her adherents decided on bringing the affair as soon as possible to a conclusion. The whole negotiation was secretly conducted; the rather as the princess was sought both by the duke of Berri, brother to the French king, and by the monarch of Portugal, whose agents were sure to oppose every obstacle in their power to the union with Aragon. For a time she was a prisoner in Madrigal, where it was evidently intended to detain her until she gave her consent to either the Portuguese or the Frenchman. The former was considered too old to have issue, the latter was too far removed to be dreaded. She contrived to acquaint her friends with her unexpected position. The primate immediately collected three hundred lances, and marched to her relief; the admiral of Castile and the bishop of Curia did the same; she was released, and triumphantly escorted to Valladolid. Ferdinand was invited to hasten from Aragon with all possible expedition, while Henry was absent in Andalusia, and receive his bride. As he was likely to be intercepted on his reaching the Castilian territory, he assumed a suitable disguise, and, with three attendants only, eluded the design of his enemies. On the 25th of October, 1469, the royal pair received the nuptial benediction in the cathedral of Valladolid.
No sooner was Henry acquainted with this precipitate marriage, than he resolved to leave no measure untried for securing the crown to Beltraneja. To the deputations of his sister and brother-in-law, who entreated him to forgive a step rendered necessary by circumstances, he returned answers studiously evasive. The profusion with which he lavished lands, lordships, and other honours on the more powerful barons, proved how anxious he was to effect his object. But his attention was long distracted, and his efforts rendered abortive, by the troubles which lacerated his kingdom. There was no longer a government: one baron made war on another, and one class of the community on another, with perfect impunity and with perfect contempt of their sovereign’s authority. In some towns the streets were deluged with blood by their contentions. But the king was too mutable in character to persevere long in any given line of conduct. In 1474 he again sought for an opportunity of entrapping and imprisoning the infanta and her husband; but his purpose was divined and eluded.
This weak monarch—weak even to helplessness—died near the close of 1474; by his last will he declared the young Juana his successor, and charged four of his most considerable barons with its execution. The desire of wiping away the stain on his manhood did not forsake him even on the verge of the grave.
On the death of Juan, Ferdinand was at Saragossa; but his consort, being at Segovia, summoned that city to acknowledge her, and was instantly obeyed: by the nobles and prelates present, both were solemnly proclaimed joint sovereigns of Castile and Leon. On his return from Aragon, there was much dispute as to the power he was to exercise in the administration. While one party contended that the undivided executive ought to depend on the queen, as domina et hæres of the monarchy, another maintained that he alone should govern; since, in default of male issue by the deceased king, the crown devolved of right to him as the next heir. But the Salic law had never been in force in this kingdom, however it might be recognised in some neighbouring states. After frequent and acrimonious consultations, it was agreed that the king and queen should reign conjointly, and that, in all public acts, his name should precede hers; but, to save her rights, or rather to satisfy Castilian jealousy, it was no less stipulated that without her express sanction he should not have power to alienate any portion of the royal revenues or domains, nor to nominate the governors of towns or fortresses. These restrictions were far from pleasing to Ferdinand, who was immoderately fond of power, and who, at first, even threatened to return into his hereditary kingdom. His indignation was disarmed by the prudence of the queen, who, by promising submission to his will, averted so fatal a misfortune.
But if the majority of the people were in favour of the new reign, there were yet many barons, and those of considerable influence, who espoused the interests of Juana. The marquis of Villena, with other barons of the same party, resolved to marry the young princess to Alfonso V of Portugal, assisted by whose arms they hoped to make head against the reigning pair. Alfonso readily embraced the proposals of the disaffected: he collected troops, and at the same time, as uncle of Juana, applied to the pope for a dispensation to celebrate the marriage.
However important the stake for which the two parties now began to contend, the details of that contention are too obscure in themselves, and were too indecisive, to merit minute attention. Though the Portuguese obtained some partial successes, among others the strong fortress of Zamora, the war was decidedly in favour of the Castilian sovereigns: in the very first campaign the marquis of Villena had the mortification to see his hereditary domains in possession of the royal forces; while many of the towns and forts, which had at first declared for Juana, returned to their duty. In 1476 the Portuguese king was compelled to retreat from Zamora, which was invested by Ferdinand; near Toro he was overtaken by his active enemy, and a battle ensued, in which victory declared for the latter;[48] it was immediately followed by the surrender of the fortress. About the same time, Madrid, which had held for Juana, capitulated to the duke del Infantado: Ucles followed the example. Both the marquis and the primate were now tired of their ally and their cause. Negotiations were opened; and, in September, 1479, satisfactorily concluded at Alcacebas.
The principal conditions were that Alfonso should renounce the title of king of Castile; that he should neither marry, nor in any way favour the pretensions of Doña Juana; that “this pretended daughter of the late king, Don Henry,” should be allowed six months to decide whether she would wait until the infante Juan (only son of Ferdinand and Isabella, then but a year old) arrived at a marriageable age, or take the veil; that the Portuguese should restore the few places they still held in Estremadura. It was added that if, on arriving at a proper age, the infante should be averse to the match, he had only to pay 100,000 pistoles to be at liberty to marry whom he pleased. The unfortunate lady, seeing that she was sacrificed to the interests of the two kings, professed in the convent of St. Clair at Coimbra.[49]
The very year in which peace was thus happily restored between Castile and Portugal, Ferdinand, by the death of his father, Juan II, was called to the throne of Aragon. Having received the homage and confirmed the privileges of his Aragonese subjects at Saragossa, of the Catalonians at Barcelona, and of the Valencians in the capital of that province, he returned into Castile.g
There was now a Spain, though the government of the two kingdoms was separately administered under separate constitutions long after the time of Ferdinand and Isabella; yet the double throne was after all one throne, and Spain was at last a nation, fronting the world united, as far as the Spaniards of that time could be united, and the first reign of the new realm was the most glorious of all.a
[44] Let us hope that the atrocities of the English allies—so gently noticed by Froissartd—are exaggerated; yet certain it is that the old Portuguese chroniclers dwelt largely on them: “Nao se cançaõ os nossos chronistas de encarecer as atrocidades que estas tropas auxiliares cometteraõ em todos os terrenos de Portugal por onde andaraõ,” says Lemos.e “King Ferdinand,” says the Chronicon Conimbricensef “had to seize the church plate to satisfy his allies: Mandou o ditto senhor rey tomar os thesouros das igrejas, convem a saber, frontaes, e calices et magestades, para pagar o soldo aos dittos Ingrezos.”
[46] [While there are discrepant statements as to the date and place of Isabella’s birth, Prescott accepts April 22nd, 1451, as the date, and Madrigal as the place.l Burkeh emphasises the fact that in her veins flowed the blood both of Guzmans and of Plantagenets; both her great-grandmother and her grandmother were English.]
[47] Juan, king of Navarre, who in 1458 had succeeded his brother Alfonso as king of Aragon.
[48] In this battle it was somewhat singular to see two eminent ecclesiastical dignitaries, the cardinal De Mendoza and the archbishop of Toledo, fighting on opposite sides. There was something not exactly apostolic in the former’s hastening along the Castilian ranks, with a crucifix borne before him, shouting, “Knaves, fight away! have ye not a cardinal with you?”
[In honour of this victory Isabella walked barefoot in a religious procession through the streets.]
[49] Alfonso later abdicated and went into a monastery.