2

CONSOLIDATION OF POWER

Isabella’s vigilance had paid off. She had steered her way through King Enrique IV’s court and outmaneuvered her oppressive half brother by marrying Ferdinand of Aragon without Enrique’s consent. Now there was no stopping her. Marriage to Aragon’s next king all but assured Isabella’s role as Castile’s next sovereign. It was a trajectory that would lead to the birth of their daughter Catherine, whose historical role contrasts so radically with that of her mother. What Catherine’s parents would achieve was to lay the basis for the creation of Spain.^a The union of the kingdoms through their marriage catalyzed “a new national state that would grow by war, policy and accident throughout Catherine’s girlhood to a great dynastic power, enriched by fabulous new-found lands, and struggling for first place in Europe.”¹

From the beginning, the bride and groom found, to their delight, that they had many values and interests in common, particularly when it came to their faith. Their personalities complemented each other. “Isabel was decisive, indeed resolute to the point of intransigence, and very serious, if with a gift for irony. She gave her trust sparingly but when she did, wholeheartedly.” Ferdinand, by contrast, “was deft of mind, affable, and cocksure; his gallantry softened her edges and won her … . Her earnestness reinforced an intensity latent in him. Both of them were quick to take a stand; and both had the gift of self-monitory, curbing impetuosity, and especially they both had the ability to reassess whatever the other thought insurmountable.”²

This is not to say that the couple were completely of the same mind. Ferdinand enjoyed drinking and playing cards. Isabella, who did not drink wine, preferred reading above all and having discussions on theology, literature, or poetry. She also loathed gambling, and according to a courtier, “she did not wish to see nor to hear liars, coxcombs, rascals, clairvoyants, magicians, swindlers, fortunetellers, palm-readers, acrobats, climbers and other vulgar tricksters.”³ In their views on marital vows, Ferdinand and Isabella also differed. Much to his wife’s horror, Ferdinand conducted discreet liaisons with a number of women, fathering several illegitimate children, whereas Isabella remained faithful. So scrupulous was she in maintaining her marital vows that years later, whenever Ferdinand was absent, Isabella “slept in a dormitory, with her daughters or with other ladies or maidens of the court, so as not to give rise even to the suspicion of scandal.”⁴

Despite Ferdinand’s infidelity, Isabella remained devoted to him until the end. Near the time of her death, Isabella asked that, upon Ferdinand’s death, her body be buried with his in order that “our bodies may symbolize and enjoy beneath the ground the close relationship that was ours when we were alive.”⁵ Ferdinand, even though he strayed from his marital vows, was nearly as devoted to his wife, valuing her judgment keenly. In later years, he was to write to Isabella of his devotion, telling her when they were apart of how he looked forward to their meeting and being together “as we were in our first love.”⁶

The couple’s personal union was equally evident in their political aspirations for the unity of Castile and Aragon. Isabella and Ferdinand’s shared goal of seeing their kingdoms united can be seen in their motto, “Tanto monta, monta tanto” (As much as the one is worth so much is the other). Symbols the couple adopted also reinforced this unity. Ferdinand’s became the yoke, which stood for the Y or I in his wife’s name, while Isabella embraced as her symbol flechas, or arrows, the F standing for her husband’s first initial. On coins of the realm, both their heads appeared, while in documents, Ferdinand’s and Isabella’s signatures were affixed together.

Within a year of their wedding, Isabella gave birth to the couple’s first child, a girl named Isabel, like her mother. The only request Isabella made during the grueling delivery was that her face be covered by a veil in order to hide her pained expressions. Though she was cherished by both parents, little Isabel’s arrival was tinged with disappointment. Castile may have allowed females to succeed to the throne, but the same could not be said of Aragon. Consequently, the desire for a male heir remained high for Isabel’s parents.

Since her marriage had infuriated Enrique IV, Isabella’s path toward the Castilian throne took a turn for the worse. In 1470, Enrique disinherited her in an ostentatious ceremony in which he promoted La Beltraneja as his heir. Isabella actively promoted her cause in the hope that her appeals would garner support. Ferdinand was of little help to his wife at the time, for his attention was focused on France, which he and his father fought to win back the Aragonese possessions of Roussillon and Cerdagne in the Pyrenees.

Despite Enrique’s public repudiation of Isabella as his heir, doubts concerning the succession continued. Things came to a head as the king lay dying. One account has Enrique declaring La Beltraneja as his successor, whereas another has him leaving the question of the succession to six counselors, four of whom were known supporters of Isabella. Yet another account has Enrique remaining mute when asked who was to be his successor.

The moment of truth came on the night of December 11, 1474, when the forty-nine-year-old Enrique IV died. The important question of who was to succeed him went unanswered. For Isabella, however, no doubt lingered. When she heard of her half brother’s death, the twenty-three-year-old Isabella donned white for mourning and attended the rituals to honor the dead. Two days later, to take possession of Castile as a monarch in her own right, she mounted a ceremony highly charged with symbolism. Isabella insisted on coronationlike ceremonials in Segovia before a crowd of townsfolk and dignitaries including prelates, nobles, knights, counselors, and the papal emissary.

To the fanfare of trumpets, a dazzlingly arrayed Isabella made her appearance, “a beautiful and stately figure, clad from head to foot in white brocade and ermine. Gems sparkled at her throat, at her bridle, at the arch of her foot; and her mount was caparisoned with cloth of gold.”⁷ At Segovia’s majestic turreted alcázar (castle) jutting forth from the top of a prominent rock, Isabella was received “under a canopy of rich brocade” by the city’s notables, who “escorted her in solemn procession to the principal square … where a broad platform … had been erected for the performance of the ceremony.”⁸

On a raised platform before the Church of San Miguel in the castle’s main square, Isabella received oaths of allegiance from important individuals. The traditional monarch’s symbol in Castile was a golden orb topped with a cross, but Isabella chose the sheathed sword of state, “with the point downward, resembling a cross.” She made a profound statement, for “the sword recalled not only the royal conquerors who had wrested Spain from the Moors, but also the feats of the warrior maid Joan of Arc, earlier in the century.”⁹ In unsheathing the sword of state at her accession ceremony, Isabella declared her intention to follow in these illustrious footsteps.

The unsheathing of the sword of state marked a significant moment in Isabella’s accession ceremony, for “it demonstrated in dramatic fashion, the new queen’s intention to act like a king and rule with power and justice, of which the unsheathed sword was a recognized symbol.” ¹⁰ In recording the momentous event, Alonso de Palencia, the royal chronicler, noted that the sword of state was carried “after the use of Spain, so that it could be seen by everyone, even the most distant, and so that they should know that she who had the power to punish the guilty with royal authority was approaching.”¹¹ The unsheathed sword was carried before her as she made her way to the church to attend a thanksgiving Mass. The queen “humbly prostrated herself before the high altar, giving thanks to God for bringing her safely through so many perils, and asking the grace to rule according to His will.”¹²

“The fact that Isabella’s accession took place at all was [also] remarkable. She succeeded to the throne of what had become, by the Middle Ages, the largest and most powerful kingdom in the Iberian Peninsula, possessing about two-thirds of the region’s population and natural resources, as well as the bulk of its territory.”¹³ During Isabella’s ceremonial proclamation as queen, Ferdinand was nowhere in sight, preoccupied as he was with Aragonese problems. At the news of his wife’s accession to the Castilian throne, Ferdinand rushed to her side. Their formal reunion emphasized Isabella’s ascendance to the crown and her legitimate hold over Castile, with Ferdinand respectfully approaching his wife inside the gates of Segovia’s alcázar. Support for Isabella’s rights as Queen of Castile and the peninsula’s provident future was evident in Segovia. Prominent men of the city acclaimed the new sovereign with the words “Castilla, Castilla por el Rey Don Fernando è por la Reyna Doña Isabel, su muger, proprietaria destos Reynos (Castile, Castile for the King Don Ferdinand and for the Queen Doña Isabel, his wife, queen proprietor of these kingdoms).”¹⁴ It was the first time in hundreds of years that a queen reigned in Castile in her own right. The word proprietaria signified Isabella’s proprietorship of Castile. She was Castile’s queen regnant, with Ferdinand as king consort.

Friction between husband and wife inevitably occurred over Isabella’s summary assumption of power. In an era when males were accustomed to dominant roles in the private and public spheres, Queen Isabella’s sudden elevation to a position of power was bound to rankle a man of pride and virility such as Ferdinand. Moreover, though any children born to them were in line to inherit the Castilian crown, he could not succeed Isabella as King of Castile in the event of her death. Ferdinand’s manly pride nearly made him return to Aragon. It took the concerted efforts of Archbishop Carrillo and Pedro Cardinal González de Mendoza, Primate of Spain, to ease the tension between the royal partners.

Ultimately, though, Isabella pleaded her case before Ferdinand herself. During a meeting that prelates and aristocrats attended, Isabella’s husband listened to his wife’s reasoning. “This subject, Señor, need never have been discussed, because where there is such union as by the grace of God exists between us, there can be no difference. Already, as my husband, you are King of Castile, and your commands have to be obeyed here; and these realms, please God, will remain after our days for your sons and mine.”¹⁵ Isabella went on to convince Ferdinand that her claim to the throne was imperative by cleverly reminding him that, since their only child thus far, the princess Isabel, was a female, her rights to the throne had to be maintained. Failure to do so could mean that any future husband of Isabel’s, most likely a foreigner, “might allege that these realms belonged to him even by the collateral line, and not to your daughter the Princess, on account of her being a woman … whence it may follow that the kingdom may pass into the hands of a foreign race.”¹⁶ Thus through her “arguments [did] the queen … [succeed] in soothing her offended husband, without compromising the prerogatives of her crown.”¹⁷ Thanks to Isabella’s cogent arguments and Ferdinand’s willingness to listen, their acrimony dissipated. Their mutual love had also won the day. From then on, Ferdinand and Isabella worked together tirelessly for what they perceived to be the best for Spain.

No sooner had Queen Isabella and King Ferdinand sorted out their differences and emerged with plans for Spain’s future than war erupted. The Portuguese King Afonso V proposed to marry La Beltraneja himself and attacked Castile in the hope of dethroning Isabella and securing the throne for La Beltraneja. The stakes were high on both sides. If King Afonso succeeded, Castile would be united with Portugal. If he failed, Castile would unquestionably belong to Isabella.

Besides the war with Portugal, the Castilian coffers were nearly empty, numerous towns still dithered over their allegiance to Isabella and Ferdinand, and to rub salt in the wound, in a fit of pique, the fickle Archbishop Carrillo abruptly changed allegiance to La Beltraneja. On many fronts, the struggle with Portugal over control of Castile seemed almost a lost cause for Queen Isabella. Yet however hopeless the war appeared to be, the queen knew that she had no choice but to fight. To have appeased the Portuguese would have meant certain defeat for Castile. Not only would Isabella have lost her crown but Castile would likely have been subordinated to Portugal’s designs indefinitely. There was, therefore, no alternative but to go on with the struggle.

In the spring of 1475, Afonso V invaded Castile, but support for him was not widespread. He was willing to withdraw his troops, but at a high price. Isabella would have to yield Galicia or León to him. Even Ferdinand recommended that his wife accept Afonso’s terms, but “Isabella rejected these proposals. She wrote to her husband that she would not give up one inch of Castilian territory and that she would soon be joining him at the front. She herself was Castile, she said, and she loved her country. She loved each district of Castile, the mountainous regions and the peasants and fanatical priests who inhabited them; she loved bright and fertile Andalusia with its bold merchants and daring mariners; she loved poor Galicia and the Galician fishermen. She resolved to defend the entire country with all the means at her disposal.”¹⁸

Ferdinand and Isabella set about defending her inheritance. Throughout the War of the Castilian Succession, as the struggle came to be called, Queen Isabella immersed herself in all aspects of the conflict. Far from letting others run the war, the queen organized numerous tasks and influenced the direction of the conflict. Unwilling to countenance defeat, she tirelessly led and inspired. At one point, while Ferdinand rushed to Burgos to help the crown’s cause there, Isabella “galloped to Toledo, 130 miles south, to bring back reinforcements of new levies. She then made a wide and rapid swing to León, more than two hundred miles north, to rescue the province from a treacherous governor.”¹⁹

With Ferdinand providing strategic knowledge and skilled leadership to over fifty thousand soldiers, Isabella feverishly campaigned to gain as much support for her cause as possible. Pregnant with her second child, the queen braved exhausting, primitive conditions. She rode from one Castilian town to another, urging her subjects to fight. The queen paid a heavy price for her efforts—she suffered an excruciating miscarriage, losing the male heir she and Ferdinand had so coveted.

Though Portuguese troops outnumbered the Castilians, who were suffering from exhaustion, Queen Isabella’s faith in her cause paid off. By March 1476, the tide turned. Ferdinand took advantage of a Portuguese military blunder and defeated the enemy on an open plain near Toro in the province of Zamora. Holding Toro was key, as the town offered good access into Castile. Spurred by cries invoking the saints “Santiago y San Lázaro!” the Castilians emerged victorious in battle.²⁰

Though Ferdinand personally led the Castilian troops into battle at Toro, Isabella played a significant role. Her leadership prevailed when twenty thousand Portuguese soldiers surrounded King Ferdinand and his troops. The queen, “threatened with defeat, was spurred on to almost superhuman activity. Like all great soldiers, she saw the advantage of attack. If the enemy’s force outnumbered hers, it must be divided. She sent troops to assail [King Afonso’s] base … . She hurled others against his right flank. Finally she discovered that a town at his rear, commanding his line of communications, was poorly guarded. She sent two thousand cavalry to seize it.”²¹ Thanks to Isabella’s tenacity and leadership, Afonso retreated and headed for Toro, where Ferdinand’s army defeated him.

At Torsedillas, from where Isabella directed other aspects of the war, the thrilling news of her husband’s victory prompted a grateful queen to manifest her thanks to God, publicly and humbly. The twenty-four-year-old Isabella walked barefoot in the cold from the palace where she was staying to the monastery of St. Paul outside the city, “giving thanks to God with great devotion, for the victory that the King her husband had given his people.”²² Two years later, King Afonso of Portugal renounced his rights, as well as those of La Beltraneja, to Castile’s throne, thus securing Isabella’s hold on the crown. La Beltraneja’s efforts to wrest power from Isabella finally ended when the former retired to a convent and took the veil.

The Portuguese defeat had significant repercussions. Instead of uniting with Portugal, Castile under Isabella united with Aragon. If Isabella had been usurped by La Beltraneja, she would have been merely Ferdinand’s consort, meaning that their energies would likely have devolved largely upon the Aragonese kingdom. And “since Aragon’s interests had always been directed towards the Mediterranean, it is hardly likely that its rulers would one day have listened to the proposals of a visionary sailor [by the name of Christopher Columbus] who thought he could sail westward across the Atlantic Ocean to China.”²³

The year 1479 also saw Ferdinand succeed his father as king of Aragon. With the two crowns united, a political partnership formally emerged. Ferdinand II’s kingdom of Aragon and Isabella’s kingdom of Castile forged a nation that eventually became Spain. Through their first decade together, husband and wife increasingly identified with each other, their union setting the tone for political unification. This spirit was essential to the creation of Spain and ultimately placed it on the path of unprecedented greatness. Evidence of their unity as a couple and as monarchs can be seen in Ferdinand and Isabella’s building of a monastery in Toledo, the historic walled city on seven hills looming above the river Tagus. Toledo, together with Segovia and Granada, was one of Castile’s three great cities. The monastery—with its elaborate Flemish Gothic design that came to be called Isabelline in honor of the queen—bears the name San Juan de los Reyes, the “los Reyes” referring to the kings, meaning the royal couple.

The monastery’s founding was also a manifestation of the couple’s religious devotion, which very much underpinned their rule. Isabella chose the name San Juan in honor of her patron saint, John the Evangelist, who is thought to have authored the biblical book of Revelation. The queen associated herself with his symbol, the eagle, which was “commonly believed [to be] emblematic of Christ and the sun. The eagle symbolized resurrection, salvation, renewal; and in medieval Europe it stood as an allegory for, among other things, legality of royal descent, rejection of intruders in lawful succession,”²⁴ all bound to resonate with a religious queen who had fought for her right to the throne.

Such ideals and concepts of kingship were largely expounded by Isabella’s valued adviser, her confessor, Hernando de Talavera, who reinforced the queen’s desire to become a wise and devoted sovereign, morally upright and always working in God’s service. It therefore came as no surprise that, in erecting the monastery of San Juan de los Reyes, Isabella was not merely giving thanks but also manifesting her steadfast conviction in her present and future role as sovereign. The founding of the monastery also announced “its sponsor’s commitment to the battle against evil in this world.”²⁵

The couple’s thanksgiving at Toledo for their victory over the Portuguese demonstrates Isabella’s increasing use of ceremony to reinforce the monarchy’s significance, as well as that of the Catholic faith. Since a large part of her role as queen was meant to inspire and to be respected, it was only fitting that she and Ferdinand present themselves publicly in regal splendor. Privately the couple preferred a simple life, yet in moments of public scrutiny, Isabella ensured that she appeared attired in dazzling clothes, her court bathed in grandeur. In Toledo, during these heady days of celebrations, Isabella flaunted a spectacular ruby collar while dressed in a richly embroidered brocade gown emblazoned with the lions and castles of Castile. And she lost no opportunity in celebrating significant victories by publicly attending Masses to give thanks to God.

The constant fusion of religion and monarchy was not unusual for the time. To understand this, it must be remembered that “Ferdinand and Isabella and their contemporaries thought of monarchy not primarily as we do today in terms of supreme power in the state or of unlimited legislative capacity, but as a relationship to God.”²⁶ For Castile in particular, monarchs before Isabella had already viewed themselves as anointed kings, a concept that even in the ineffective reign of King Enrique IV remained undiluted. Not surprisingly, the young queen embraced this “Christianized form of monarchical absolutism, so that its continuation was effectively the only policy in Isabella’s mind, when she seized power in December 1474.”²⁷

Defeating Portugal in the War of the Castilian Succession did not end the king and queen’s struggles; the possibility of being deposed still lingered. Ferdinand and Isabella therefore worked together to consolidate their hold on the throne and pacify Castile, the larger and more powerful of the two kingdoms. Decades of civil war and inefficient, corrupt government in the hands of Isabella’s father, Juan II, and her brother Enrique IV had left Castile an unstable kingdom, allowing near anarchy to wreak havoc and instilling fear in many of the people. Criminal activity in particular was widespread. Violent assaults, marauding bandits, and widespread theft blanketed the countryside. None was immune from the terror; even churches were subjected to constant thievery. To counter this chaos, Isabella created the Hermandad, a type of national police unit based on the Holy Brotherhood or Santa Hermandad from the twelfth century. The Hermandad consisted of ordinary men, a sort of citizens’ militia, who diligently patrolled areas under their jurisdiction. On guilty offenders, they dispensed justice swiftly and cruelly. Torture, amputation, and immediate execution were not uncommon. So effective did the Hermandad become in ridding the Castilian countryside of terrorizing bandits and the like that, some twenty years after its founding, the brotherhood had transformed into a less cohesive and fearsome organization, its mandate fulfilled.

Just as challenging as the brigands and criminals who frightened townspeople and country folk alike were the nobles whose allegiance to the crown had proved fickle. To counter a powerful and volatile nobility that might easily turn on her as they had on her relatives, Isabella moved to neutralize those in opposition to her by using a clever three-pronged assault on aristocratic privileges. Under her orders, financial, military, and noble prerogatives were substantially diminished. The nobility were ordered to surrender huge amounts of revenues, revenues they had arrogated to themselves, to the royal treasury. Isabella also weakened the aristocracy’s ability to carry out wars against each other and the monarchy by razing their castles, the very edifices from which Castile derived its name. These numerous castles had been used as bases for protection while the nobles launched endless raids on their prey, including the crown. Thus did Isabella chip away at her potential adversaries and, in the process, consolidate the monarchy’s power. In time, the royal couple was to control all the orders, along with the wealth attached to them.

Much as they would have liked to subjugate the aristocracy completely, such a policy would not have worked to their advantage and might have been politically fatal. In all their efforts to subdue Castile’s nobles, Ferdinand and Isabella were careful not to alienate them and therefore cultivated a good number of their nobles, including formerly rebellious ones, by treating them mercifully. Thus, through a carefully crafted combination of keeping the nobility in check while granting them privileges did Isabella lay the groundwork for the monarchy’s revival.

Geography made her quest to pacify Castile problematic. There was no proper capital. Mountains, valleys, and rivers dot the kingdom’s landscape. Geographically, Castile’s wide, flat, and arid plateau, the Meseta, dominates. The sunbaked Meseta can be unforgiving, with bitingly cold winters and uncomfortably hot summers. On the west, the Meseta slopes toward the Atlantic Ocean; on the east, it merges toward the Mediterranean Sea. The northern parts of the Meseta are abutted by the Pyrenees Mountains and the Galician and Asturian pastures. Meanwhile, in the south, where Andalusia is located, the geography is particularly diverse, offering a microcosm of Castile and the Iberian Peninsula. Andalusia’s rugged Sierra Nevada, rivaling only the Swiss Alps in height, are not far from deserts, beaches, and valleys. The south also suffers from intense heat and lack of rain. However, the fertile Andalusian plain provides an exception, irrigated by the Guadalquivir River and its tributaries. Yet the rivers found on the peninsula were difficult to traverse. For “a river may be either a highway for those who desire to travel along its course, or a barrier for those who wish to cross it; but the Spanish rivers, with the possible exception of the Guadalquivir, are emphatically the latter rather than the former. Since they all rise on the high north central plateau, their current is for the most part so swift as to render it impossible for those journeying east and west to navigate them, while the same fact renders them the more difficult to ford for travellers going north and south.”²⁸

Dusty, primitive roads connecting towns and cities compounded the challenges, making travel in the era of Isabella’s Castile uncomfortable and often arduous. This, however, did not stop the queen from visiting many parts of her kingdom. In fact, Ferdinand and Isabella’s court was largely peripatetic. Being on the move suited Isabella, ever the horsewoman, who never hesitated to rush to a location that demanded her attention. Her very presence at a crisis made an impact, often in her favor, and so the queen was always prepared to go at a moment’s notice to where she was needed. The court’s mobility also allowed the monarchs to dispense justice personally. Isabella, seated regally on a throne, listened attentively to cases brought before her, weighed the evidence presented, then pronounced judgment. Some of the cases involved minor disputes; others compelled the queen to confer the death sentence. Isabella’s reputation grew as she dispensed justice throughout her kingdom, for not only were her judgments deemed fair but many knew that their queen was incorruptible, refusing to accept bribes or confiscate the properties of the guilty.

As in all aspects of her life, Queen Isabella’s practice of making personal appearances was intrinsically connected to her piety. She became convinced “that the righteousness of her ideas would inevitably win over her subjects because the Almighty was on her side. The phrase ‘with the help of Our Lord’ frequently appeared in her letters and conversations.”²⁹ Nor was Isabella alone in linking her piety with the governing of her realm. One contemporary had observed this, noting how “many men believed that Isabel[la] was created miraculously for the Redemption of lost kingdoms.”³⁰ So exalted had the queen become, in many people’s estimation, that contemporary accounts referred to her as a “second Virgin Mary.”³¹ Taken in the context of the times, these highly exultant views were not far-fetched but in keeping with a widespread feeling of anticipation that greeted the royal couple’s assumption of power. For “at the time of Isabella’s disputed accession to the Castilian throne, and in the succeeding years, there was an extraordinary weight of expectation on her and her husband’s shoulders.”³²

Queen Isabella’s visits throughout Castile went a long way in cementing her hold over her kingdom. Despite dangers posed by the Portuguese and Moors in the provinces of Extremadura and Andalusia, the queen set her sights on controlling the region. Undeterred by the dangers and difficulties of such a task, Isabella journeyed through torturous paths, past the domineering Sierra Nevada, and pressed her will on the south. She pacified the region by imposing her control over two wealthy and rebellious feuding nobles, the Duke of Medina Sidonia and the Marqués of Cádiz. Isabella relied on the sheer force of her personality to bring the recalcitrant duke and marqués to heel. Both begged to be forgiven and acquiesced to their queen’s demands.

In June 1478, in the midst of her struggle for the throne of Castile, the queen gave gave birth in Seville to a son, Juan. The arrival of a male heir eight years after the birth of their first child filled Isabella and Ferdinand with great satisfaction. Equally ecstatic were the people of Seville, who erupted in delight at the news, with celebrations lasting for days. When Isabella formally presented Prince Juan to God at Seville’s cathedral, the occasion was lavish, rife with gestures that emphasized the dynasty’s importance. As important as the prince’s birth was personally and politically to Isabella, fate would later cast Juan as a mere footnote in history. Instead, posterity would recognize another of Isabella’s children, because of her marriage to England’s King Henry VIII.

In the fall of 1479, the queen made a solemn entrance in Toledo without King Ferdinand. Accompanying her was the heir, Prince Juan, before whom the Cortes (parliament) swore a loyalty oath. While in Toledo, Isabella gave birth in November to her second daughter, Juana, the child who was to cause many heartaches in years to come. By this time, Isabella had largely succeeded in the unenviable task of taming her unruly kingdom. She was only twenty-eight. And though Granada continued to remain the domain of Moorish rulers, the queen would soon commit to securing that elusive territory.

Never far from Isabella’s mind was the need to build Castile into an important state, and as the years passed, the queen was gratified to see her wishes come true. In her endeavors, Isabella was motivated by something greater than power. Indeed, she achieved her victory over King Afonso of Portugal and the ensuing successes in pacifying Castile not to gain power solely for power’s sake but to eliminate chaos. To a woman passionate about order, chaos within her kingdom was nothing short of anathema. Thus, the queen’s battles with her opponents were driven by a desire to rule effectively, to bring accord to her divided subjects. What “Isabella wanted [in essence, was] to be constructive and not destructive, to unite and not to cause disharmony.”³³ Even so, the challenges were enormous. With 5 million inhabitants by 1500, the domain over which Isabella ruled was the most populous state on the Iberian Peninsula. Castile and Aragon’s combined population matched that of England but was well behind the neighboring 15 million Frenchmen. Nevertheless, “the combined area of Ferdinand and Isabella’s domains, 385,000 square kilometres in the crown of Castile and 110,000 square kilometres in that of the crown of Aragon, was almost equivalent to that of the mighty French kingdom, and equal to a large part of the fragmented Holy Roman Empire.”³⁴

At the time, Castile was largely rural, with 80 percent of the population peasants. The nobility and Church were the largest landowners. Nobles owned “97% of the territory of the Peninsula, either directly or by jurisdiction.” This essentially meant that “1.5% of the population owned almost the entire Spanish territory.”³⁵ Clearly the elite held much of the country’s wealth, while the general populace had long endured being used by noble factions as “battering rams in their internecine struggles.”³⁶

An extreme climate, bad soil, and poor farming techniques kept the people impoverished. Plagued by internal instability and economic disunity, the region also suffered from a dearth of raw materials, necessitating the importation of many basic necessities. Moreover, a highly diverse topography cut across Castile, Aragon, and the neighboring countries. This made travel and communications difficult. It all meant that the road to great achievements for Spain was narrow and arduous.

Moreover, military threats from France in the north and al-Andalus, with its capital at Granada in the south, were of constant concern. Nevertheless Ferdinand and Isabella forged ahead. Far from viewing these and other challenges as insuperable, the monarchs faced them, always looking for ways to overcome or eliminate the problems that kept Spain from emerging as a major power. Along with pacifying the kingdom came economic reforms that included standardizing tariffs on imported and exported goods as well as eliminating taxes on traded commodities between the two kingdoms. Standardizing currency put an end to monetary disarray, particularly since only a limited number of royal mints were authorized to make the coinage of the realm.

Thanks to their determined and persistent efforts, Ferdinand and Isabella’s “reign represents a key moment in the genesis of the ‘modern Spanish state.’”³⁷ The intense cooperation between the two monarchs toward accomplishing common goals was unprecedented, for theirs “was an experiment in collaboration unequalled in its time.”³⁸ That Spain’s accomplishments can be traced to the couple’s ability to work as one cannot be underestimated. And it was from their union that “a spirit of national identity”³⁹ grew. Thus, “the unity of their persons transcended the disunity of their dominions, and gave reality to a Spain that was something more than merely Castile and Aragon.”⁴⁰

Though “both monarchs were uncompromising supporters of strong authority … it is meaningless to think of them as ‘absolutist’; [instead it should be remembered that] … their concept of sovereignty was medieaval.”⁴¹ “Ferdinand and Isabella were [thus] in every sense the last mediaeval rulers of Spain: like mediaeval kings, they administered the realm, dispensed justice and made war, in person. In not a single decisive act of their reign did they proceed through delegated authority.”⁴² It is a measure of Isabella’s character that “at no time did the queen ever exceed her traditional powers, and even her phrase, ‘my royal absolute power,’ which occurs seven times in her will, was of mediaeval origin and implied no extension of authority.”⁴³ In other words, Isabella may have exercised her authority to the hilt, but she never overstepped the established boundaries of that authority.

Even though a small percentage of the population, the nobility, held economic sway, all classes could savor the peace they had craved for generations. The populace welcomed the relative stability that emerged with Ferdinand and Isabella’s rule. Out of the ashes of chaos emerged a society in which order was restored, where the highborn and lowly alike knew that they had a king and queen they could rely on. Here at last were sovereigns who took into account the well-being of all their subjects. Years after Ferdinand’s and Isabella’s deaths, a contemporary of theirs recalled admiringly how “they were rulers of our realm, of our speech, born and bred among us. They knew everybody, gave honours to those who merited them, travelled through their realms, were known by great and small alike, and could be reached by all.”⁴⁴

Castile’s significance as the largest and most powerful kingdom on the Iberian Peninsula meant that King Ferdinand, who was as astute as his wife, spent the majority of his time and energy on Castile. Ferdinand also knew that Isabella’s kingdom needed more attention than his. Therefore, in the course of nearly forty years in power, he spent a surprising majority of the time living in Castile while leaving the governing of Aragon to a series of trusted viceroys.

The program of internal reforms instituted by Ferdinand and Isabella contributed markedly to making Spain a reality. These reforms, plus bold adventures in the coming years, meant a significant shift for this once disorderly region of the Iberian Peninsula. A nation transformed, rejuvenated, and invigorated soon emerged. Castile and Aragon—the “Spain” that came to be under the rule of Isabella and Ferdinand—grew from strength to strength, accompanied by a newfound confidence. Recognition of this new power was evident in international relations. European monarchs came to see Spain as a valuable ally in pursuing their foreign policy aims. And Spain, under the king and queen’s direction, was equally determined to leverage itself on the world stage. This was all to have a profound impact upon Queen Isabella’s children, especially her youngest daughter, Catherine.