Виктория Холт - Castile for Isabella

‘The King of Portugal is my brother,’ retorted Joanna haughtily. ‘Therefore we can dispense with the usual formality.’

‘I could not allow myself to be betrothed without the consent of the Cortes,’ Isabella affirmed.

It was the weariness in Henry’s face, rather than the anger and astonishment in those of the Queen and the King of Portugal, which told Isabella how right the old Admiral had been when he assured her that the only way in which the King and Queen dare marry her off would be to do so at great speed, before the Cortes had time to remind them that they must have a say in the matter.

And, the Admiral had added, it was hardly likely that the Cortes would give their consent to Isabella’s marriage with the Queen’s brother. The people had little love for the Queen; they had always considered her levity most unbecoming, and now with the scandal concerning the parentage of her little daughter about to break, they would blame her more than ever.

The Cortes would never consent to a marriage repugnant to their Princess Isabella, and so desired by their weak and lascivious King and his less weak but hardly less lascivious wife.

When Isabella left the audience chamber she knew that she had planted dismay in the hearts of two Kings and a Queen.

How right the Admiral of Castile had been! She had learned a valuable lesson, and once again she thanked God for saving her for Ferdinand.

A brilliant cavalcade was riding northwards to the shores of the River Bidassoa, the boundary between Castile and France, and a meeting-place close to the town of Bayonne.

In the centre of this procession rode Henry, King of Castile, his person glittering with jewels, and his Moorish Guard dazzling in their colourful uniforms.

His courtiers had done their utmost to rival the splendour of their King, although none, with the exception of Beltran de la Cueva, had been able to do so. Still, it was a splendid concourse that gathered to meet King Louis XI of France, his courtiers and his ministers.

This meeting had been arranged by the Marquis of Villena and the Archbishop of Toledo, the purpose of it being to settle the differences between the Kings of Castile and Aragon.

When John of Aragon had come into conflict with Catalonia over his treatment of his eldest son Carlos, Prince of Viana, Henry of Castile had thrown in certain men and arms to help the Catalans. Now, Villena had decided that there should be peace and that the King of France should be the mediator in a reconciliation.

Villena and the Archbishop had their own reasons for arranging this meeting between the Kings. Louis wished it and the two statesmen, having a profound respect for Louis’ talents, had accepted certain favours from him in return for which they must not be unmindful of his wishes when at their master’s Court.

Louis was a man who was eager to have a say in the affairs of Europe. He was determined to make France the centre of Continental politics, the most powerful of countries, and he deemed it necessary therefore to lose no opportunity of meddling in his neighbours’ affairs if he could do so to the advantage of France.

He was interested in the affairs of Aragon, for he had lent the King of that Province three hundred and fifty thousand crowns, takng as security for the loan the provinces of Roussillon and Cerdagne. If there were to be peace between Castile and Aragon he was anxious that it should be brought about with no disadvantage to France. It was for this reason that he had his ‘pensioners’ – such as Villena and the Archbishop of Toledo – in every country in which he could place them.

Louis was in his prime, for it was but some three years since he had ascended the throne at the age of thirty-eight, and he was already making good the ravages of the Hundred Years War. He knew Henry for a weak King growing more and more foolish as the years passed, and he could not but believe that, in conference, he would get the better of him, particularly as this King of Castile’s two chief advisers were ready to accept bribes from himself, the King of France.

When Louis and Henry met there arose an immediate hostility between their followers.

Henry, magnificently attired, his company glittering in gold brocade and with the dazzle of their jewels, made a strange contrast to the sombrely clad French King.

Louis had made no concession to the occasion and wore the clothes he was accustomed to wear at home. He delighted in making himself the least conspicuous of Frenchmen, and consequently favoured a short worsted coat with fustian doublet. His hat had clearly served him as well and as long as any of his followers; in it he wore a small image of the Virgin – not in glittering diamonds or rubies as might have been expected, but of lead.

French eyes smiled at the garments of the Castilians; there were suppressed guffaws and murmurs of ‘Fops! Popinjays!’

The Castilians showed their disgust of the French; and asked each other whether there had been a mistake, and it was the king of the beggars not the King of the French who had come to greet their King.

Tempers were hot and there was many a fracas.

Meanwhile the Kings themselves took each other’s measure and were not greatly impressed.

Louis stated his terms for the peace, and these were not entirely favourable to Castile. Henry however, always eager to take that line which demanded the least exertion on his part, was eager for one thing only: to have done with the conference and return to Castile.

There was a great deal of grumbling among his followers.

‘Why,’ they asked each other, ‘was our King ever allowed to make this journey? It is almost as though he must pay homage to the King of France and accept his judgement. Who is this King of France? He is a moneylender – and a seedy-looking one at that.’

‘Who arranged this conference? What a question! Who arranges everything at Court? The Marquis of Villena, of course, with that rascal, his uncle, the Archbishop of Toledo.’

During the journey back to Castile, Henry’s adviser, the Bishop of Cuenca, and the Marquis of Santillana, who was head of the powerful Mendoza family, came to the King and implored him to re-consider before he allowed himself to enter into such humiliating negotiations again.

‘Humiliating!’ protested Henry. ‘But I should not consider my meeting with the King of France humiliating.’

‘Highness, the King of France treats you as a vassal,’ said Santillana. ‘It is unwise to have too many dealings with him; he is a wily old fox; and, as you will agree, the conference has brought little good to Castile. Highness, there is another matter which you should not ignore: Those who arranged this conference serve the King of France whilst feigning to serve Your Highness.’

‘That is a serious and dangerous accusation.’

‘It is a dangerous situation, Highness. We are certain that the Marquis and the Archbishop are in league with the King of France. Conversations between them have been overheard.’

‘It is difficult for me to believe this.’

‘Did they not arrange this conference?’ asked Cuenca. ‘And what advantage has it brought to Castile?’

Henry looked bewildered. ‘Are you suggesting that I bring them before me and confront them with their villainies?’

‘They would deny the accusation, Highness,’ Santillana put in. ‘That does not mean that they would speak the truth. We can bring you witnesses, Highness. We are assured that we are not mistaken.’

Henry looked from his old teacher, the Bishop of Cuenca, to the Marquis of Santillana. They were trustworthy men, both of them.

‘I will ponder this matter,’ he said.

They looked dismayed, and he added: ‘It is of great importance, and I believe that, if you are right, I should not continue to give these men my confidence.’

* * *

The Archbishop of Toledo stormed into the apartments of his nephew.

‘Have you heard what I have?’ he demanded.

‘I understand from your expression, Uncle, that you refer to our dismissal’

‘Our dismissal! It is preposterous. What will he do without us?’

‘Cuenca and Santillana have persuaded him that they will prove adequate substitutes.’

‘But why... why...?’

‘He objects to our friendship with Louis.’

‘Fool! Why should we not listen to Louis and give Henry our advice?’

Villena smiled at his fiery uncle. ‘It is a common failing among kings,’ he murmured, ‘and perhaps not only kings. They insist that those who serve them should serve no other.’

‘And does he think that we are going to lie down meekly under this... this insult?’

‘If he does, he is more of a fool than we thought him.’

‘Your plans, nephew?’

‘To call together a confederacy, to proclaim La Beltraneja illegitimate, to set up Alfonso as the heir to the throne... or...’

‘Yes, nephew, or... what?’

‘I do not know yet. It depends how far the King will proceed in this intransigent attitude of his. I can visualise circumstances in which it might be necessary to set up a new King in his place. Then, of course, we should put little Alfonso on the throne of Castile.’

The Archbishop nodded, smiling. As a man of action he was impatient to go ahead with the scheme.

Villena smiled at him.

‘All in good time, Uncle,’ he warned. ‘This is a delicate matter. Henry will have his supporters. We must act with care; but never fear, since Henry listens to others, he shall go. But the displacement of one King by another is always a dangerous operation. Out of such situations civil wars have grown. First we will test Henry. We will see if we can bring him to reason, before we depose him.’