JUAN PACHECO, MARQUIS OF VILLENA
FROM “ICONOGRAFIA ESPAÑOLA” BY VALENTIN CARDERERA Y SOLANO

In this malicious but eminently shrewd estimate of his attitude lies the clue to the tortuous mazes in which he involved Castile. Pacheco was a noble of Portuguese extraction, who had entered Prince Henry’s service as a page, being created Marquis of Villena by John II. When that sovereign died, the favourite succeeded to the practical sovereignty of Castile through the influence he had acquired over his master’s weak and impressionable nature. It was a position that would have dazzled and satisfied most favourites, but Pacheco despised all but the most tangible gains. Power was reckoned in his vocabulary as a means towards procuring fresh wealth, and for this his thirst was insatiable. All King Henry’s eagerness to alienate royal estates and revenues in his favour failed to meet his constant demand for fresh grants either to himself or to his immediate relatives. The gift of half a province, with the lordship of all its towns and castles would leave him envious of the small village across the border, whose rent-roll passed into other pockets.

“He knew,” says the chronicler, “how to conceal all other vices save his greed: that he could neither conceal nor moderate.”

In pursuance of his own interests Villena, who distrusted the King of Navarre’s future intentions, suggested a counter-alliance with Portugal. This western kingdom had always seemed in danger of absorption by its more powerful neighbour; once their common enemy, the Moor, had been driven southwards; but good fortune and a spirit of sturdy independence had preserved its freedom. By the great victory of Aljubarrota in 1385 Portugal had vindicated her claim to be a separate nationality; and Castile, leaving the flower of her chivalry dead on the battlefield, had retired to nurse her resentment in secret. Nearly a century had passed, and mutual hatred still smouldered between the two peoples, though frequent intermarriage had long broken down the barriers in the case of the royal families.

The bride now selected by Henry IV. was the Infanta Joanna, sister of the reigning King, Alfonso V., a lady of sufficient youth and beauty to appeal, at any rate temporarily, to her bridegroom’s jaded taste. Her journey to her new home was a triumphal progress of banquets and receptions, culminating in jousts and feasts at Madrid, where a crowning touch of extravagant display was given by Alonso de Fonseca, Archbishop of Seville, when, after a magnificent banquet, he ordered salvers, laden with rings and precious stones to be handed round, that the Queen and her ladies might take their choice.

Unfortunately, real feelings, if they had ever been in tune, ceased to correspond with these outward rejoicings. Henry soon tired of his bride, probably because he was legally bound to her, and bestowed his attentions instead on a Portuguese lady of her retinue, Doña Guiomar. The latter increased the Queen’s mortification by her insolent behaviour; and, after a stormy scene, in which royal dignity was thrown to the winds and slaps and blows were administered, Henry removed his mistress to a country-house. The Court, watching to see which way the wind would blow, divided into factions according to its decision; the Marquis of Villena supporting the Queen, the Archbishop of Seville the cause of Doña Guiomar.

Matters became even more serious when scandal, always busy with the King’s name, began to attack the honour of his bride. Queen Joanna, who according to Zurita had objected to the match from the first, was incapable of the gentle resignation of her predecessor, Blanche of Navarre. As extravagant and devoted to pleasure as her husband, she had no intention of playing the rôle of deserted wife.

“She was a woman to whom love speeches were pleasant ... delighting more in the beauty of her face than in the glory of her reputation.” Such was the court chronicler’s summary of her character; nor did public opinion remain vague in its accusations.

Amongst the principal Castilian nobles was a certain Beltran de La Cueva, who by his handsome looks and adroit manners had gained for himself the King’s confidence and the lucrative office of “Mayordomo,” or Lord High Steward.