Katharine, the Virgin Widow

The Treachery of Elvira

DOÑA ELVIRA WAS IN VERY SECRET CONFERENCE WITH HER husband, Don Pedro Manrique. She spoke quickly and quietly, for she was very eager that what she was saying should reach no other ears but those of her husband.

“Juan is certain of it,” she was saying. “If this meeting can be arranged, it will teach Ferdinand the lesson he needs.”

Don Pedro was alarmed. It was true that his wife was a woman who always had her way; but the domestic politics of the Infanta’s household were a very different matter from those of Europe. She had become more confident than ever, since she had successfully arranged the betrothal of Iñigo and Maria de Rojas. But Don Pedro wished she would leave intrigue to her brother.

Elvira’s great aim was to bring power to the Manrique and Manuel families. Therefore she was going to stand firmly behind her brother, Don Juan Manuel, who at the Court of Brussels represented the Castilian faction, the aim of which was to oust Ferdinand from power and support Philip.

“He is asking your help in this matter?” asked Don Pedro.

Elvira nodded proudly. “Why not? I hold an important position here in England. There is a great deal I could do.”

“What do you propose? Are you going to consult Puebla?”

“That little fool! Indeed I am not. This is a matter which I shall trust to no one.”

“But how do you propose to bring about a meeting between Henry and Philip? And what would Ferdinand’s reaction be if this were done?”

“I do not think we should concern ourselves with Ferdinand’s reactions. Ferdinand is growing old. He is like a lion whose teeth have been drawn. He understands now that he owed much to Isabella. He is going to realize that it was more than he suspects, even now. Ferdinand’s days as a power in Europe are numbered. Once I have arranged this meeting…”

“Elvira, have a care.”

“Oh you are a fool, Pedro. You are too timid. If it had been left to you, Iñigo would still be looking for a bride.”

“All I ask is that you should go warily.”

“Can you not trust me to do that?”

“You are clever, Elvira; you are shrewd. But this is dangerous politics. Tell me what you propose to do.”

She looked at him with a scornful smile, made as though to speak and then paused. “No,” she said, “I think I will tell you afterwards. You are too timid, my dear Pedro. But have no fear. I know exactly how to handle this matter.”

KATHARINE’S MAIDS of honor were helping her to dress when Elvira came to them.

“Is that the best gown you can find for Her Highness?” she demanded, staring at the stiff brocade skirt which had been mended in several places.

“It is the least shabby of Her Highness’s gowns,” said Inez de Veñegas.

Elvira clicked her tongue and murmured as though to herself: “A pretty pass…a pretty pass…”

She watched while the maids dressed Katharine’s hair, then she waved her hands in a gesture they knew well, shooing them away as though they were chicken.

When they had gone Elvira said: “It distresses me, Highness. I often wonder what your mother would have said if she could see what has befallen you in England.”

“She knew how I was placed, even before she died, yet there was nothing she could do. Had it been possible she would have done it.”

“An Infanta of Spain to be so shabby! I feel it should not be allowed to continue.”

“It has gone on so long that one grows accustomed to it.”

“There is a new Queen of Spain now. I wonder what she would say if she could see her sister.”

“Ah…Juana!” murmured Katharine, and thought of that wild sister who laughed and cried too easily. “It is strange to think of her as Queen in our mother’s place.”

“How would you like to see her again?”

Katharine did not speak. To see Juana! It would be the next best thing to seeing her mother.

“I do not see,” whispered Elvira, watching her closely, “why it should not be arranged.”

Katharine turned to her swiftly. “But how?”

“Suppose you wrote to her, telling her of your desire to see her. Do not forget, she is the Queen now. Suppose you told her of your homesickness, your longing to see a member of your family; I feel sure she would be as eager to see you as you are to see her.”

“You mean that I should leave England…?”

“Why not? They could come to the coast to meet you. The King might accompany you; it would be an opportunity for him to meet the new Queen and her husband.”

“Doña Elvira, do you really think…?”

How young she is, thought Elvira. How innocent. How easily she is deluded!

Elvira turned away as though to hide an emotion of which she was ashamed because it showed a weakness.

“I think it is worth trying. Why should you not write a note to your sister, suggesting such a meeting. What harm could that do?”

“I can see no harm in it. I should so rejoice to hear from Juana.”

“Then write the note and we will send it by special courier to Brussels. He shall wait there and bring back your sister’s answer to you.”

Katharine rose and went to her table. Her fingers were trembling with excitement as she took up her pen.

KATHARINE LOOKED at the note. It brought back memories of Juana.

How wonderful for them to be together, to exchange experiences, to give themselves up to the joy of “Do you remember?” It would be almost like living those days of childhood again.

We should be together, thought Katharine; there are so few of us left now.

Juana had written that she would be delighted to see her sister, that there was nothing she wanted more. Why should not the two parties meet half way?

If King Henry and Katharine would cross to Calais and travel to Saint-Omer, which was but eight leagues away, there Juana and her husband, Philip, would be waiting to meet them.

Katharine showed the letter to Doña Elvira, who was overjoyed. Juan had been clever to get the unbalanced Juana to write the letter exactly as he wished, so the strategy had succeeded even beyond her hope.

There was now of course the difficulty of persuading the King to enter into the plan, but Elvira did not think that would be difficult, since Henry desperately needed a bride and was desirous of linking up with the Hapsburgs. He was feeling his age, it was true, and a sea journey would not be very comfortable, but he was ever a man to put diplomacy before comfort. Elvira had little doubt that he would accept the invitation.

She was jubilant. She would have achieved for her brother that which he had been working hard to bring about: A meeting between Henry and Philip which could only work out to the detriment of Ferdinand and the Aragonese faction.

“You should write to the King at once,” said Elvira, “showing him this invitation from your sister. If you will do it now, I myself will give the order for your chamberlain to prepare to take it to Richmond with all speed.”

“I will write at once. Tell Alonso de Esquivel to make ready. He rides faster than any, and I can scarcely wait for the King’s answer. I will take it down to him myself when I have written it, with special instructions that it is to be put into no hands other than those of the King.”

Elvira nodded, well pleased, and went off at once to tell the chamberlain to make ready.

Katharine carefully wrote her letter to the King, sealed it and was making her way down to the courtyard when she came face to face with Dr. de Puebla.

She felt so happy that she could not resist confiding in the ambassador, and said almost childishly: “I have had an invitation from my sister. She has invited me…and the King…to see her. I am asking the King to agree to this.”

Puebla put his hand out to the wall to steady himself. He knew at once what this meant. Katharine would not go alone. There would be a royal party and the King would most certainly be at the head of it. The enemies of Ferdinand had been working long and secretly to bring about such a meeting. This was direct treachery towards Katharine’s father.

He took the letter from her and she, unthinking, let it go.

Katharine said sharply, “Give me back that letter.”

The little ambassador continued to clutch it tightly.

“Highness,” he began, “this could be a matter of policy…”

Katharine’s habitual calm deserted her. She thought of the months of loneliness, boredom, poverty and humiliation. She did not trust Puebla, whom she had never liked, and Elvira had lost no opportunity of poisoning her mind against him. She snatched the letter from the ambassador and went past him.

His ambassadorial duties had accustomed Puebla to quick thinking. He guessed that Elvira was behind these arrangements, for he was well aware that her brother, Juan Manuel, was working in Brussels for the Castilian party against the Aragonese.

It was useless to follow Katharine. Glancing hastily through a window he saw the chamberlain, ready for his journey, standing by while his horse was being saddled. There were a few moments left to him in which to act. He sped along to Elvira’s apartment and on his way there met her returning from the courtyard.

“This is treachery,” he cried, “treachery against our Sovereign master.”

Elvira was too much taken off her guard to feign surprise. “If the Infanta wishes to see her sister, why should she be prevented?”

“This meeting has been arranged at the instigation of your brother, who is a traitor to Ferdinand. We are Ferdinand’s servants. Your brother is a traitor, and you know that full well. If that letter of invitation is sent to the King I shall have no alternative but to acquaint Ferdinand with your treachery. It is one thing for your brother to work against the King of Aragon in Brussels, but quite another for you to do so here in the household of Ferdinand’s daughter. He could recall you to Spain, and he will do so. I do not think your fate would be a very happy one if that should happen.”

“I do not understand…” began Elvira, but for once she was trembling. The success of her venture depended entirely on its seeming innocence. The meeting for which she had planned must appear to have been brought about through Katharine and Juana. She understood her danger if Ferdinand were informed that she had played a part in it.

“There is little time to lose,” said Puebla. “In less than five minutes Esquivel will be on his way to Richmond.”

Doña Elvira made a quick decision. “I will go down at once and tell him that he must not take the letter to the King.”

Puebla, who was sweating with the excitement and dismay of those moments, now relaxed.

She understood the danger to herself and her family. She had not only her own but her family’s future to think of. She would not want it known that Juan Manuel had played his part in this; and although Ferdinand had been weakened by the death of Isabella, he was still a power in Spain, and it might be that he would act as Regent for Juana and Philip, who must necessarily spend a certain time in their other dominions.

Elvira knew very well that she was playing a dangerous game.

She went down to the courtyard, while Puebla watched from a window. Katharine had given the chamberlain her letter with instructions to ride to Richmond with all speed, and had returned to the house.

That made Elvira’s task more easy. Puebla watched her take the letter from the chamberlain; he saw the look of surprise on the man’s face as the horse was led back to the stables.

The ambassador sighed with relief. A chance meeting with the Infanta had diverted a catastrophe. He felt exhausted. He would return immediately to his lodgings in the Strand and there rest awhile.

I am too old for such alarms, he told himself.

As he came out of Durham House his servant, who had been waiting for him, came hurriedly to his side, surprised to see his master so weary.

Puebla was about to start on his way when he stopped abruptly. “Wait here,” he said. “If you should see Don Alonso de Esquivel ride off in some haste towards Richmond lose no time in coming straight to me.”

He then made his way to his lodging. He did not trust Elvira. He had always known that the woman sent adverse reports of him to Isabella, and was doubtless doing so to Ferdinand. He had an inkling that she might attempt to thwart him even now that he was aware of her duplicity.

He was right.

He had not been in his lodgings very long when his servant came panting into his presence, to tell him that the chamberlain had, very soon after the departure of Dr. de Puebla from Durham House, set off in the direction of Richmond, riding at great speed.

Puebla was horrified. He should have foreseen this.

The mischief was done. The King was being offered what was tantamount to an invitation to meet Philip and Juana; if he accepted, months of diplomacy were ruined.

He could not prevent Katharine’s letter from reaching the King, but he could at least warn Katharine of the part she had been inveigled into playing. Then perhaps he could warn the King of the unreliable character of the Archduke Philip.

He had no time to form elaborate plans. He must act with speed. Of one thing he could be certain: The Infanta was completely loyal to her own family; if she knew that she had been used in a plot against her father, she would be horrified.

He lost no time in returning to Durham House, and there burst unceremoniously into the presence of the Infanta.

Katharine was with some of her maids of honor and, when he stammered out the plea that he speak to her alone, she was so shocked by his distress that she immediately agreed that he should do so.

As soon as they were alone he said: “Highness, you are the victim of a plot against your father.” He then explained how for months the Castilian faction in Brussels had been working to bring about a meeting between Henry of England and her brother-in-law, Philip.

“You must understand, Highness, that your brother-in-law is no friend of your father. He seeks to take from him all the power he has in Castile and relegate him solely to the affairs of Aragon. You know how distressed your mother would be if she could know what is happening now. In her will she asks that in the absence or incapacity of your sister Juana, your father should be sole regent of Castile until the majority of her grandson Charles. Philip is determined to increase the discord and distrust between your father and the King of England. He will seek to make a pact with him against your father. Doña Elvira’s brother, Don Juan Manuel, is the leader in this plot. It is for this reason that she has urged you to help bring about this meeting.”

Katharine was staring at the ambassador in horror. She was remembering how Doña Elvira had commiserated with her, how she had urged her to write to Juana. So she and Juana were being used by their father’s enemies! Katharine thought of her mother, who had always stood firmly beside her father. How shocked and horrified she would be at the idea of her daughters’ working with their father’s enemies.

She was trembling as she said: “I believe what you say. I see that I have been their dupe. What can I do now?”

Puebla shook his head sadly, for he had realized that there was nothing now to be done. The King would receive the letter from his daughter-in-law, enclosing that from Juana. It was entirely in his hands whether or not that invitation would be accepted.

“At least, Highness,” he said, “you know your duenna for the scheming woman she is. With your leave I will retire now. I shall go with all speed to Richmond, and there I shall try to use my influence with the King to avoid this meeting.”

HENRY WAS STUDYING the letter from Katharine and that from Juana.

To cross to Saint-Omer, to meet the heir of Isabella and her husband! Perhaps to make the arrangements for those alliances which he coveted? Philip would have the backing of his father, Maximilian, and if they could come to some agreement it might mean that he would have his bride in England soon. Maximilian’s daughter, a beautiful young woman, though twice widowed…. They could get children. He was very eager to have a bride for himself and those alliances for his family. Charles, the heir of the Hapsburgs and of Isabella and Ferdinand, would be the richest monarch in Europe when he came of age. Little Mary was the bride for him. And Eleanor, the daughter of Philip and Juana, would do very well for young Henry. All this could be arranged if he met Philip and Juana.

They would want something in exchange—promises of help, doubtless, against Ferdinand, because there would certainly be trouble in Castile between Ferdinand and Philip. It was easy to make promises.

A meeting was desirable, but it would be expensive; a King could not travel abroad in modesty; that gave an impression of poverty and would not be wise. He did not like travel; he was getting too old, and his limbs were often so stiff when he arose in the mornings that he could scarcely put his feet to the ground. Yet those alliances were what his family needed.

Puebla was announced, and the ambassador, when he entered and stood before the King, was clearly distraught.

“You look disturbed,” said Henry.

Puebla, feeling the situation to be too dangerous for subterfuge, explained in detail how Doña Elvira had used Katharine to suggest this meeting.

“Well, are the means so important?”

“Your Grace, the Spanish situation is fluid…very fluid. There is so much treachery involved in this that it is difficult to know who is one’s friend, who one’s foe. There are the two rival factions in Brussels. How can you know who it is who have arranged this meeting? Is it your friends? Is it your enemies? A King is vulnerable when he leaves his own shores. Philip is as wayward as thistledown. He will sway this way and that. He does not keep his promises if the whim takes him to break them. You would be ill advised to take this suggestion of a meeting seriously.”

The King was thoughtful. There was spying and counterspying in all countries, he knew, but the Spanish situation at this time was certainly dangerous.

He knew Philip for a pleasure-loving young man whose political ambitions waxed and waned. Ferdinand he looked upon as a rogue, but at least he and Ferdinand were of a kind.

“I will consider this matter,” he said, and Puebla’s spirits rose.

He did not believe that Henry would make that journey. Clearly he was dreading it. Crossing the Channel could be hazardous, and if he suffered even a slight wetting he could be sure that his rheumatism would be the worse for it.

Henry was thinking that this meeting, plotted by women, was perhaps not the wisest course at this time. What if Philip had no wish to see him? What if it should turn out to be a reunion of Katharine and her sister merely? He shuddered to think of the expense that would be involved, the money wasted.

“I will ponder on this,” he said.

AT THE WINDOW of her apartments at Durham House, Katharine sat for a long time looking out. Puebla had gone to Richmond and would now be with the King.

Katharine was deeply shocked. She could not free her mind of the memory of her mother’s face. Isabella had been at her happiest when she had her family about her. Katharine could remember those occasions when the family sat with her, the girls at their needlework, Juan reading to them; then perhaps Ferdinand would join them, and her mother’s face would take on that look of serene contentment she loved to recall.

Now they were scattered. Her brother Juan and sister Isabella were dead, Maria was the Queen of Portugal, Juana the wife of Philip and she herself in England; and here in England she had become involved in a plot against her father.

Her horror gave place to anger. She forgot that her father had never loved her in the same tender way in which her mother had; she forgot how pleased he had been to send her to England. She thought of him only as the father who had joined their family group and added to her mother’s happiness. Ferdinand was her father. Her mother would always have her remember that. There had been times when Isabella deferred to Ferdinand; that was when she was reminding them all that he was their father. At such times she forgot that she was the Queen of Castile and he merely the King of Aragon. Where the family was concerned he, Ferdinand, was the head.

And Doña Elvira had tricked her into working against her own father! Katharine stood up. She could not see her reflection or she would have noticed that a change had come over her. She held her head higher, and her shabby gown could not hide the fact that she was a Princess in her own household. She had ceased to be the neglected widow; she was the daughter of Isabella of Castile.

She called to one of her maids and said: “Tell Doña Elvira that I wish to see her without delay.”

Her tone was peremptory and the girl looked at her in astonishment; but Katharine was unaware of the glance. She was thinking of what she was going to say to Doña Elvira.

Elvira came in, gave the rather curt little bow which was her custom, and then, as she looked into the Infanta’s face, she saw the change there.

“I sent for you,” said Katharine, “to tell you that I understand full well why you persuaded me to write to my sister.”

“Why, Highness, I knew you wished to see your sister, and it seemed shameful that you should live here as you do…”

“Pray be silent,” said Katharine coldly. “I know that your brother, Don Juan Manuel, plots against my father in Brussels and has persuaded you to help him here in Durham House.”

“Highness…”

“Pray do not interrupt me. You forget to whom you speak.”

Elvira gasped in amazement. Never before had Katharine spoken to her in that manner. She knew that Puebla had betrayed her to Katharine, but she had been confident that she could continue to rule Durham House.

“I do not wish,” said Katharine, “to have here with me in England servants whom I do not trust.”

“What are you saying…?” Elvira began in the old hectoring manner.

“That I am dismissing you.”

“You…dismissing me! Highness, your mother appointed me.”

It was a mistake. Elvira realized it as soon as she had mentioned Isabella. Katharine’s face was a shade paler, but her eyes flashed in a new anger.

“Had my mother known that you would plot against my father, you would have spent these last years behind prison walls. It is where you should be. But I will be lenient. You will prepare to leave Durham House and England at once.”

“This is quite impossible.”

“It shall be possible. I will not send you back to my father with an explanation of your conduct. I will spare you that. But since you are so eager to help your brother in Brussels you may go there.”

Elvira tried to summon all the old truculence, but it had deserted her.

“You may go now,” continued Katharine. “Make your preparations with all speed, for I will not suffer you for a day longer than I need under this roof.”

Elvira knew that protest was useless. If she attempted to assert her authority, Katharine would expose the part she had been playing in her brother’s schemes.

It was hard for a proud woman to accept such defeat.

She bowed and, without another word, left the presence of the Infanta.

Katharine was shaken, but she felt exultant.

For so long she had been, not so much the prisoner of Durham House, as the prisoner of Doña Elvira. Now she was free.