Monday 7 March 2005

Reinas: Monks, Madness, Catholicism and Civil War - Part II

Spain's Flawed Queen Regnants

If Spain’s first two queen regnants brought political and geographical unity to the Iberian Peninsula, then the next two brought madness and civil war. In all fairness, however, the misfortune and disunity that marked the reigns of Juana “La Loca” and Isabel II were only due in part to these flawed queen regnants. Just as much of the blame can safely be attributed to the political climate and sexual biases of their times. In Part I of this series we covered Spain’s first queen regnant and daughter of a monk, Petronila of Aragon, as well as Isabella I "The Catholic" of Castile and León. Today we continue with Isabella’s daughter Joan "The Mad," and finish with Spain’s only modern queen regnant, the cause of civil war and an alleged nymphomaniac, Isabella II.

Juana "La Loca"

In 1502, Queen Isabella I of Castile and León (Isabel I de Castilla y León) was facing a crisis. Three heirs to the joint thrones of Castile and Aragon had died within the space of five years and the new heir was a mentally unstable young woman who was married to a power-hungry Austrian prince. To make matters worse, Isabella herself was becoming increasingly frail and unhealthy. Aware that her death could bring an end to the unification of the thrones of Castile and Aragon, which had come about through her own marriage to Ferdinand II of Aragon (Fernando II de Aragón), Isabella spent much of her time and energy trying to nurse her daughter and heir back to health. But her efforts were for naught and as Isabella’s life drew to a close, the reign of Queen Joan “The Mad” of Castile and León (Juana “La Loca” de Castilla y León) ushered in a new era of Spanish rule. 

As the third child and second daughter – born November 6, 1479 – of the “Catholic Kings” Isabella of Castile and Ferdinand of Aragon, it was never expected that Joan would rule her parents’ kingdoms. That role was reserved for her elder brother Prince John (Juan), who was expected to formally unite Castile and Aragon under his combined rule. The fact that this responsibility ultimately fell to Joan nearly proved disastrous for the unification of Spain, but ultimately helped to bring about Spain’s golden age of empire. Although the validity of Joan’s moniker “the mad” has been brought into question by modern historians, who frequently theorize that her behavior was indicative of a “mild personality disorder” exacerbated and exploited by the many powerful men around her, it was certainly a theme that featured prominently throughout her life and made a deep impression on Spain’s history. 

Some indicators of Joan’s later “madness” may have existed during her childhood since, by most accounts, she was moody, quiet and somewhat brooding. Of course, these behaviors could merely have been a reaction to her severe upbringing, which ensured that she was fluent in Latin at a very young age and, later, an accomplished musician and avid reader. The young Joan expressed an interest in all that was mystic and wanted to direct and control that interest by becoming a nun, but it was a dream that didn’t suit the dynastic ambitions of her parents. One of Joan’s best assets was her lookes and, by her teens, she was considered quite beautiful. Oddly enough, because she so strongly resembled her father’s mother, Juana Enriquez of Portugal, Isabella called Joan “my mother-in-law.” 

In 1496, the 16-year-old Joan married Philip “The Handsome” (Felipe “El Hermoso”), archduke of Austria, duke of Burgundy, and eldest son of Holy Roman Emperor Maximilian I. The marriage coincided with the marriage of Joan’s brother, Prince John to Philip’s sister, Margaret of Austria. One of the primary goals of both marriage alliances was to politically surround Spain’s enemy, France. By all accounts, Joan and Philip were instantly attracted to one other, but in all other ways they appear to have been completely incompatible. Philip was a serial philanderer who did not bother to conduct his affairs very discreetly, which infuriated the moody and jealous Joan. Accounts exist of hostile arguments and outrageous scenes between the two, often resulting for Joan in severe bouts of depression. Although moodiness, jealousy and depression alone aren’t necessarily indicators of insanity, more troubling signs became apparent during Joan’s first pregnancy in 1498, when one of Isabella’s emissaries reported to her that Joan was not stable enough to serve any positive political purpose in her husband’s lands. In spite of it all, by 1501, Joan and Philip managed to have three children, including the future Holy Roman Emperor Charles V (known as King Charles I in Spain). 

Joan’s behavior prior to 1502 may have been cause for concern among her family, but after the deaths of deaths of her brother, elder sister and young nephew, it became a matter of great seriousness as she was now heir to the thrones of Castile and Aragon. She and Philip returned to Spain where they were formally recognized as heirs to both thrones and settled into her parents’ Court for the birth of their fourth child. But life at Court was not happy and between Joan’s mental instability, Isabella’s deteriorating health and Philip’s dislike of his father-in-law, it’s not difficult to imagine the tension and discomfort that all four of them must have faced on a daily basis. Unable to cope, Philip left for Flanders, unceremoniously leaving Joan behind. This blow, combined with the birth of Ferdinand in 1503, brought about the most bizarre behavior yet from Joan. Isabella attempted to nurse her daughter, but Joan’s hysterical fits and mad rampages were too much and by the spring of 1504, Joan left Castile to rejoin Ferdinand in Flanders. 

Barely eight months later, on November 26, 1504, Isabella died and Joan became queen of Castile and León. She and Philip returned to Spain to claim her inheritance. This time, Philip was more than eager to make the trip, as he had plans to make Castile more his own kingdom than Joan’s. Philip’s ambitiousness caused a great deal of friction between himself and Joan’s father, Ferdinand. Although both men agreed that Joan was unable to rule in her own right, Ferdinand was enraged when Philip proposed to the Cortes that Joan should be confined so he could govern alone in her name. The proposal was not affirmed, but Philip was appointed Joan’s regent and was indeed kept as a virtual prisoner by her husband. Rather than put up with his son-in-law, Ferdinand returned to Aragon and married Germaine de Foix, heiress of Navarre, in an attempt to break the union between Aragon and Castile by uniting Aragon and Navarre under a new heir. Fortunately for the future of Spain, the scheme did not come to fruition and was it was soon precluded anyway by the sudden death of Philip on September 25, 1506. It’s been speculated that Philip was the victim of poison, either at the behest of or by the agents of Ferdinand, although nothing was ever proven and the official cause of death was typhoid fever. 

Philip’s death both opened the way for Ferdinand’s return to Castile as Joan’s regent – a role he carried out until his death in 1516 – and made that regency all the more necessary. Despite her husband’s constant philandering and his manipulation of Joan’s mental incapacity, his death drove her over the edge with grief. For months after his death, Joan refused to change clothes or bathe and couldn’t be separated from Philip’s coffin. Pregnant with their sixth child when Philip died, Joan gave birth to her daughter Catherine in 1507. Sadly, this last child would serve as her mother’s constant companion for many years in her lifelong enforced isolation. In January 1509, Joan was confined in Tordesillas (near Valladolid), where she stayed – dressed in black – until her death on April 11, 1555. After Ferdinand’s death, Joan’s eldest son, Charles, became her regent in both Castile and Aragon, although he was effectively king of both kingdoms, with Joan exercising no real power in either.  

At the end of the day, Joan’s father, husband and son all reigned in her name during one of the most important periods in Spanish history. Unlike her mother, she may never have truly ruled as queen regnant, but Joan's reign did have important ramifications for Spain. Not only did her son become the first early modern monarch of a united Spain, he was also the first Habsburg ruler of that country, which helped make Spain one of Europe’s most powerful empires. According to John D. Beramini in The Spanish Bourbons: “From his parents and grandparents Carlos [Charles] inherited the greatest conglomeration of territories ever before controlled by a single ruler – the Austrian dominions in central Europe, the Netherlands, various duchies in Italy, Aragon, Castile and the New World.” Joan’s other five children also fared remarkably well, with each and every one of the children sitting on at least one throne. The eldest, Eleanor, was queen consort of both Portugal and France; Isabella was queen consort of Denmark; Ferdinand was emperor of Germany; Mary was queen consort of Hungary; and Catherine, the youngest, was queen consort of Portugal.

Queen of Intrigues

Prior to the 18^th century, Spain’s three queen regnants inherited their thrones with little consideration of their sex. The Castilian tradition, as confirmed in the law code of Alfonso X in the 13^th century, allowed for the daughter of a king to take precedence over her uncles or male cousins in the line of succession. The same held true in Aragon. Unfortunately for Spain’s fourth queen regnant, a lot had changed since the death of Joan in 1555.  

Even before Isabella II of Spain (Isabel II de España) was born on October 10, 1830, there was controversy over her future reign. Salic Law, which prohibits a woman from inheriting the throne unless all male lines are extinct, did not apply in Spain until the first Bourbon monarch of Spain, Philip V (Felipe V de España), introduced it in 1713. Although Salic Law had long been an institution in France, Philip himself had only inherited the throne thanks to his relation through his maternal line to the last Habsburg ruler of Spain, Charles (Carlos) II, who – without children of his own – named Philip as his heir. Less than 70 years later, in 1789, Charles IV and the Spanish Cortes approved of the abrogation of Salic Law, but the measure was never published due to strong dislike of it by cadet royal family members with an interest in the Spanish Crown. The matter resurfaced in the spring of 1830, when Ferdinand (Fernando) VII ordered the publication of the Pragmatica Sanción (Pragmatic Sanction) – intended to formally abrogate Salic Law in Spain. 

The matter was of some urgency to Ferdinand who, after three marriages, had failed to produce an heir. At the time he introduced the Pragmatic Sanction, his fourth wife, Maria Christina, was pregnant with his first child. So, by its nature, the Sanction very obviously intended to immediately exclude Ferdinand’s younger brother and the heir presumptive, Charles, the Infante Don Carlos, from the succession since, no matter what the child’s sex, Ferdinand’s unborn child would take precedence. The move caused instant controversy, dividing Spain between absolutists who supported Charles, and liberals who supported the unborn heir of Ferdinand and, consequently, the chance to expand their political opportunities, which would be almost nil under Charles. While the birth of a male heir may have quashed all the troubles, the birth of Isabella served quite the opposite effect and the controversy became increasingly heated. When the birth of another daughter was followed on June 20, 1833 by the Cortes confirming the Pragmatic Sanction and swearing allegiance to Isabella as Princess of Asturias (heiress to the throne), the political divide became irrevocable and Charles left Spain for Portugal. It was in this way that Isabella not only sparked the royal dispute known as Carlism, which would last more than a century, but also planted the early seeds of civil war in Spain and built the foundations of the liberal regime.

For the moment, however, the timing of the confirmation of Isabella as heir apparent couldn’t have been more perfect. Ferdinand died in September 1833, leaving his three-year-old daughter to be proclaimed queen of Spain with her mother as regent. Tragically for Isabella, her reign never stood much of a chance and would be perpetually linked with intrigue and controversy. From the very beginning, the Carlist’s – led by the pretender Charles – disputed Isabella’s reign, the newly divided government of liberals and absolutists were busy fighting for power amongst themselves, and just about everyone was trying to take control of the reigns of government in Isabella's name. Another major problem was Isabella's own mother, whose political misdealings and Court intrigues overshadowed anything positive she might have done in her daughter’s name as queen regent. Britain’s Queen Victoria once said that Maria Cristina “wasted her time in frivolous amusements and neglected her children sadly.” When her mother was eventually forced out of the regency, the reigning government saw fit to have Isabella confirmed as a fully independent queen when she was just 13. But, like her mother before her, Isabella was essentially only a figurehead, with the real political dealings handled by the major political players - who came and went with alarming rapidity. In essence, Isabella's position and security as queen was only really possible because she was politically expedient to those in power, namely the liberals who had only gained entrée to the Spanish government thanks to the controversy surrounding Salic Law and the Pragmatic Sanction. Clearly, Isabella's was a dangerous position for anyone, never mind a young and inexperienced girl. 

For her part, Isabella’s temperament and training had ensured that she was ill-equipped to handle life as queen – even as a puppet queen. By most accounts, she was flighty, disorganized, passionate and overly fond of Court intrigues. With little grounding in her life, the constant upheaval and political backstabbing turned Isabella into a woman who thrived on intrigue, flirtation and controversy. In 1846, it became politically expedient – thanks to pressure from conservatives – to have 16-year-old Isabella marry her first cousin, Francisco de Asis, Duke of Cádiz. As Francisco was the son of a younger brother of Ferdinand VII, the marriage effectively eliminated another possible threat to Isabella's throne, but Isabella was extremely unhappy with the match and had even threatened to abdicate rather than marry him. Her position left her little choice, but problems in the marriage appeared as early as the first few months. Part of the problem may have been that Francisco was quite possibly homosexual and, of the 10 children born to Isabella, few, if any, are believed to have actually been his. Even their son and heir, Alfonso, was widely rumored to be the son of a captain of the guard, Enrique Puig y Moltó – one of Isabella’s many lovers. The theory may not be too far-fetched when you consider that most historians seem to agree that Isabella was a nymphomaniac.

When the last of the Carlists died in 1936, Isabella’s grandson, Alfonso XIII (1886-1941), became heir to both lines, although by that time he had been living in exile since 1931. He didn’t renounce his rights until 1941. If Salic Law had been enforced in the 1830s, thus barring Isabella’s reign, and all births, deaths and marriages had occurred exactly the same as they did, the throne would still be in the hands of King Juan Carlos I today.

It's impossible to tell when Spain might again have a queen regnant, but it's safe to say that the four who did reign in Spain are truly unforgettable.

Until next time, 

- Tori Van Orden Martínez

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Postscript:

It’s hard to believe I’ve been writing this column for a year and, in celebration of that anniversary, I wanted to take a moment to thank all of my readers, particularly those of you who have taken the time to write to me with your questions and comments.  

As I’m sure you’d all agree, Geraldine has created a really great site and I’m so glad to be a part of it and have the opportunity to help it grow and expand. Writing a weekly column is a very time-consuming venture and other aspects of my writing are taking up an increasing amount of time, so I’m sorry to say that my columns in the months to come won’t always be as regular as they have been in the past year. While I will still aim to write a weekly column here on Etoile, you may find that from time to time a week or two may pass when you don’t hear from me.

As always, please keep your comments and questions coming, as they rarely fail to inspire and motivate me and I always appreciate just knowing who’s out there reading. -Tori

The photo included in this column was taken by the author, is copyright Tori V. Martínez and may not be reproduced without her permission.