‘You are too important to us for that to be allowed,’ she told him; and he appeared to be placated.
But the Archbishop was far from satisfied. Every day he saw Cardinal Mendoza being taken more and more into his mistress’s confidence and, a few weeks after that interview with the Queen, he made an excuse to retire from Court.
He had, however, no intention of retiring to his estates. He had decided that, since Isabella refused to be his puppet, he must set up one in her place who would be.
He was well aware that there were certain men in Spain who were dissatisfied with the succession of Isabella and would be ready to give their allegiance to the young Princess Joanna La Beltraneja, who many preferred to believe was not illegitimate – for if she were the legitimate daughter of the late King, then she, not Isabella, should be Queen of Castile.
He called to his house certain men whom he knew to be ready to rebel. Among these was the Marquis of Villena, son of the great Marquis, the Archbishop’s nephew who, before his death, had played as big a part in his country’s politics as the Archbishop himself. The present Marquis might not be a brilliant intriguer like his father, but he was a great soldier, and as such thirsted for battle. He was very rich, this young Marquis, and because he owned vast estates in Toledo and Murcia he could raise support from these provinces.
There were also the Marquis of Cadiz and the Duke of Arevalo.
When these men were gathered together the Archbishop, making sure that they were not overheard, announced his plans to them.
‘Isabella has assumed the crowns of Castile and Leon,’ he said, ‘but there appears to be some doubt throughout this land as to whether she has a right to them. There are many who would rejoice to see the Princess Joanna in her place.’
There were murmurs of approval. None of these men had received great honours from Isabella and, if the young Princess Joanna were accepted as Queen of Castile, since she was only twelve years old, there would be a Regency and high places for many of them.
Eyes glittered, and hands curled about sword hilts. A Regency would be a very desirable state of affairs.
‘I strongly suspect these efforts to declare the Princess Joanna illegitimate,’ stated the Archbishop; and nobody reminded him that not very long ago he was one of the most fiery advocates of Joanna’s illegitimacy and Isabella’s right to the throne.
The circumstances had changed. Ferdinand had sought to curb his power; Isabella had transferred her interest to Cardinal Mendoza. Therefore the Archbishop had decided to change his mind.
‘My lord Archbishop,’ said Villena, ‘I pray you tell us what plans you have for dethroning Isabella and setting up Joanna in her place.’
‘There is only one way of bringing this about, my friend,’ replied the Archbishop, ‘and that is with the sword.’
‘It would be necessary to raise an army,’ suggested Arevalo. ‘Is that possible?’
‘It must be possible,’ said the Archbishop. ‘We cannot allow a usurper to retain the throne.’
He smiled at the assembly. ‘I know what you are thinking, my friends. Isabella has won the allegiance of many. Ferdinand is related to many Castilian families. It might be difficult to raise an army, you are thinking. Yet we will do it. And I have other plans. They concern the Princess Joanna. Do not forget that young lady has her part to play in our schemes.’
‘I cannot see the young Princess riding into battle,’ said Villena.
‘You take me too literally, my dear Marquis,’ answered the Archbishop. ‘You cannot believe that I would have brought you here unless I had something to put before you. The Princess will be the bait we have to offer. Then I think we can draw powerful forces into the field. I propose to dispatch an embassy immediately. My friends, let us put our heads close together and lower our voices, for even here there may be spies. I will now acquaint you with my plans. They concern Portugal.’
Many of those present began to smile. They could see whither the Archbishop’s plans were leading.
They nodded.
How fortunate, they were thinking, that the Archbishop was on their side. How careless of Isabella to have lost his friendship, when such a loss could lead to a much greater one: that of the throne of Castile.
Alfonso V of Portugal had listened with great interest to the proposals which had been brought to him from the secret faction of Castile, headed by the Archbishop of Toledo.
He discussed this matter with his son, Prince John.
‘Why, Father,’ said the Prince, ‘I can see that naught but good would come of this.’
‘It will mean taking war into Castile, my son. Have you considered that?’
‘You have been successful in your battles with the Barbary Moors. Why should you not be equally so in Castile?’
‘Have you considered the forces which could be put into the field against us?’
‘Yes, and I have thought of the prize.’
Alfonso smiled at his son. John was ambitious and greedy for the good of Portugal. If they succeeded, Castile and Portugal would be as one. There might be a possibility of the Iberian Peninsula’s eventually coming under one ruler – and that ruler would be of the House of Portugal.
It was a tempting offer.
There was something else which made Alfonso smile.
There had been a time when he had thought to marry Isabella. His sister, Joanna, had married Isabella’s half-brother, Henry IV of Castile. Joanna was flighty. He had often warned her about that. It was all very well for a queen, married to a husband like Henry, to take an occasional lover, but she should have made sure that there was no scandal until long after the birth of the heir to the throne. Joanna had been careless, and, as a result, his little niece – another Joanna – was reputed to be the daughter, not of Henry the King, but of Beltran de la Cueva, Duke of Albuquerque; and so strong was this belief that young Joanna had been dubbed ‘La Beltraneja’, and the name still clung to her. And because Joanna had been declared illegitimate, Isabella was now Queen of Castile. But that state of affairs might not continue; and if he decided to go to war it should not prevail.
He had been very angry with Isabella. He recalled how he had gone to Castile to become betrothed to her, and she had firmly refused him.
It was an insult. On one occasion she had declared her unwillingness to accept him as a suitor and had sought the help of the Cortes in averting the marriage. It was too humiliating for a King of Portugal to endure.
Therefore it would be a great pleasure to turn Isabella from the throne and set the crown on the head of his little niece.
John was smiling at him now. ‘Think, Father,’ he said.
‘When little Joanna is Queen of Castile and your bride, you will be master of Castile.’
‘She is my niece.’
‘What of that! The Holy Father will readily give the dispensation; especially when he sees that we can put a strong army in the field.’
‘And but twelve years old!’ added Alfonso.
‘It is unlike a bridegroom to complain of the youth of his bride.’
Alfonso said: ‘Let us put this matter before the Council. If they are in agreement, then we will give our answer to the Archbishop of Toledo and his friends.’
‘And if,’ said John, ‘they should be so misguided as to ignore the advantages of such a situation, it must be our duty, Father, to insist on their accepting our decision.’
Little Joanna was bewildered. From her earliest childhood she had known there was something strange about herself. Sometimes she was called Highness, sometimes Infanta, sometimes Princess. She was never quite sure what her rank was.