If by chance you type her name
into a search engine, you will get dozens of results, including Juana of
Castile, necrophilia. Apparently, the
woman, born to the monarchs Isabel I and Fernando II of Castile and Aragón in 1479, remains a perverse individual to many, a reputation that has dogged her for over five hundred years. Her story, unfortunate in many ways, has been
told and retold in plays, poems, novels, and movies. Few of her biographers have been able to
resist the dark legend that surrounds her—and whether the accounts are
sympathetic or sensational, hard historical evidence is difficult to come
by.
Juana of Castile |
In 1956, Amarie Dennis published Seek the Darkness: The
Story of Juana La Loca. In this torrid book, the case for Juana’s
supposed lunacy begins with a snapshot of her childhood. She was the third child of two of Europe’s
most formidable sovereigns, crusaders, whose military campaigns made for a
peripatetic life. Without missing a
beat, indeed, admitting to “conjecture,” Dennis describes Juana “as a silent
and moody child, not given to the wholesome laughter of children, old for her
age and wise with the wisdom gathered from continuous association with people
who were years her senior.” She is
further described as a witness to “storybook events;” she “seems to have
wandered in a dream-world;” she was “pensive.”
“Her mouth was small and pouting;” she was “a prey to moodiness and a
seeker of seclusion (15).” From this
description, the reader can only assume that Juana was abnormal from the start,
unable to separate reality from fantasy, and deeply anti-social.
Or, we can turn to José Luis Olaizola’s Juana, la Loca, subtitled:
The tragic life of one of the most legendary figures of the Spanish
monarchy. Descriptions of the woman who
would one day inherit an empire are plentiful.
Popularly known as “doña Juana, la Loca de amor” or "doña Juana, the love
sick,” the author takes issue with the notion that Juana was the victim of
erotomania. Instead, due to the extreme
suffering the world inflicted on her, she drank from a chalice of tears until
she drained it to the dregs (9). For
those who have a taste for lachrymose prose, Olaizola’s book makes for quite
the read. Juana lived one hell of a
life, and few would envy her position.
Coat of arms of Juana's parents, Isabella of Castile and Ferdinand of Aragon |
In, Juana the Mad, Bethany Aram dispenses with the sentimental approach
common to Juana's biographers. She also
manages to dispel any illusion that Juana was hopelessly in love with Philip,
known as “the Fair.” Her research focuses on the complex system of codes,
symbols, and courtly practices that governed Juana in matters personal and
political.
Juana with her parents |
Philip's actions prior to and after the death of the queen indicate that he intended to deny Juana
of her inheritance. He was not the sort
of man to play second to his wife, much less allow her to rule while he stood
idly on the sidelines. Chroniclers have
spared him little, describing him as a womanizer, a drunkard, a spendthrift, a
pawn of the French, and a wife-beater.
Even his nickname, “Philip, the Fair,” may refer to his vanity rather
than his appearance or any sense of justice.
According to Aram, after Isabel’s death, Juana
and Philip set out for Spain. Juana
appeared before her subjects in Murcientes in July 1506. Fernando was still alive, and out of
deference to her father, she stated that she would respect his wishes, dress in
the Castilian manner, and refuse female attendants. Philip had already sought to deprive her of
her ladies in an effort to isolate her.
Juana’s objections to establishing a court of her own may have been
an attempt to appease him. Despite these
concessions, Juana wanted to have the Cortes (the government of Spain)
moved to Toledo, her birthplace. Philip
intervened, perhaps with Fernando’s assistance, and insisted that the Cortes be
held in Valladolid. At this point, we
must realize that Juana was essentially a political captive. Unless she was willing to mount a revolt
against her husband, she had no choice but to acquiesce. On July 10, Philip and Juana made a
ceremonial entrance to Valladolid.
Juana and Philip before her subjects |
And the rest, as they say, is
legend. From the moment of Philip’s
death, Juana took charge of her husband's corpse, jealously guarding the coffin,
and fending off the Burgundians and Castilians in attempt to have him entombed
beside her mother in Granada. This led
to the macabre peregrinations that made Juana infamous. In addition, her refusal to appoint a regent, as Aram
points out, demonstrated an unwillingness to allow others to rule on her
behalf. And yet, everything she did
exacerbated the crisis, causing the populace to think her either mad,
unable to rule, or both. In the end,
Fernando had her locked up. She
lived out the rest of her days as many a dispossessed queen before her--a prisoner whose
only solace was that she had achieved one of her aims: Charles V would indeed succeed her.
Sources
Aram, Bethany, Juana
the Mad: Sovereignty and Dynasty in Renaissance Europe, John Hopkins
University Press, 2005.
Dennis, Amarie, Seek the Darkness: The Story of Juana la Loca, Madrid, 1956.
Olaizola, José Luis, Juana, la Loca, Editorial Planeta, 1996.
All images via Wiki Commons
Note: All translations are mine.
Kathryn A. Kopple is the author of Little Velásquez, a novel set in 15th century Spain.