For comparison - the sad tale of Juana la Loca, Queen of Castile

[hedgehog]

"Philip's coffin was temporarily buried in a monastery near Burgos. Stories were spread that the mad Queen had the coffin opened every night and then embraced her beloved dead. In fact, Juana did have the coffin opened once and then looked at her husband's remains, but not until five weeks after his death, as a response to rumours that his body had been stolen. When the wrappers were removed from the corpse, Juana began kissing its feet. She had to be removed from the vault with force. When Burgos was struck by a contagious disease, Juana decided to move to Torquemada. She wanted to take the coffin with her, because it was en route to Philip's final resting place, Granada. The coffin was opened for a second time to ensure that Philip's remains were still there. Thus, Juana had his coffin carried about on her journeying. It was guarded by an armed escort and she had ordered that females were to be kept at a distance. She travelled by night only and during the day they rested in monasteries, deliberately avoiding nunneries.

When Juana was seized with labour pains on her gloomy procession in January 1507, she refused the help of midwives and gave birth alone to a daughter, Catalina. Meanwhile, the coffin was placed in a nearby church before the altar and Juana jealously ordered that women were forbidden to come near it. After four months she started out again with the coffin. When suddenly a storm broke, she refused to take shelter in a nunnery. Again she had the coffin opened to gaze at the smelling remains of her once handsome husband. She stopped in a little village and stayed there for some more months, keeping the coffin with her. When she received word that her father had returned from Naples, she opened the coffin a fourth time before she set out to meet her father."


"Some believe that Joanna became completely deranged at this point.— it was almost impossible to get her away from the corpse of her husband. Another possibility is that she was using her status as a widow taking her husband to his desired place of rest as an excuse to travel freely through Spain. She may have been afraid to be shut away as had happened before. Joanna was in her last trimester of pregnancy and may have felt especially vulnerable.

This worked in Ferdinand's favor and he was able to convince Joanna to grant him co-regency. He kept her isolated in the castle of Tordesillas and became sole Regent. After his death in 1516, Joanna's son Charles assumed the regency and was proclaimed co-king. Joanna was kept prisoner at Tordesillas, however, with the revolt of the comuneros, 1522 she had a chance to resume her sole sovereignty but failed to take it. She had been kept ignorant of everything that had happened in the twenty years since she had been captive. When Charles succeeded in quelling the uprising, Joanna was locked up for good in a windowless room in the castle of Tordesillas for the rest of her life. She died on Good Friday, April 12, 1555.

[wake.up.america]

1. Being originally from Spain (Andalusia) , I found the post most interesting.

Federico García Lorca (1898 - 1936)


Princesa enamorada sin ser correspondida.
Clavel rojo en un valle profundo y desolado.
La tumba que te guarda rezuma tu tristeza
a través de los ojos que ha abierto sobre el mármol.

Eras una paloma con alma gigantesca
cuyo nido fue sangre del suelo castellano,
derramaste tu fuego sobre un cáliz de nieve
y al querer alentarlo tus alas se troncharon.

Soñabas que tu amor fuera como el infante
que te sigue sumiso recogiendo tu manto.
Y en vez de flores, versos y collares de perlas,
te dio la Muerte rosas marchitas en un ramo.

Tenías en el pecho la formidable aurora
de Isabel de Segura. Melibea. Tu canto,
como alondra que mira quebrarse el horizonte,
se torna de repente monótono y amargo.

Y tu grito estremece los cimientos de Burgos.
Y oprime la salmodia del coro cartujano.
Y choca con los ecos de las lentas campanas
perdiéndose en la sombra tembloroso y rasgado.

Tenías la pasión que da el cielo de España.
La pasión del puñal, de la ojera y el llanto.
¡Oh princesa divina de crepúsculo rojo,
con la rueca de hierro y de acero lo hilado!

Nunca tuviste el nido, ni el madrigal doliente,
ni el laúd juglaresco que solloza lejano.
Tu juglar fue un mancebo con escamas de plata
y un eco de trompeta su acento enamorado.

Y, sin embargo, estabas para el amor formada,
hecha para el suspiro, el mimo y el desmayo,
para llorar tristeza sobre el pecho querido
deshojando una rosa de olor entre los labios.

Para mirar la luna bordada sobre el río
y sentir la nostalgia que en sí lleva el rebaño
y mirar los eternos jardines de la sombra,
¡oh princesa morena que duermes bajo el mármol!

¿Tienes los ojos negros abiertos a la luz?
O se enredan serpientes a tus senos exhaustos...
¿Dónde fueron tus besos lanzados a los vientos?
¿Dónde fue la tristeza de tu amor desgraciado?

En el cofre de plomo, dentro de tu esqueleto,
tendrás el corazón partido en mil pedazos.
Y Granada te guarda como santa reliquia,
¡oh princesa morena que duermes bajo el mármol!

Eloisa y Julieta fueron dos margaritas,
pero tú fuiste un rojo clavel ensangrentado
que vino de la tierra dorada de Castilla
a dormir entre nieve y ciprerales castos.

Granada era tu lecho de muerte, Doña Juana,
los cipreses, tus cirios; la sierra, tu retablo.
Un retablo de nieve que mitigue tus ansias,
¡con el agua que pasa junto a ti! ¡La del Dauro!

Granada era tu lecho de muerte, Doña Juana,
la de las torres viejas y del jardín callado,
la de la yedra muerta sobre los muros rojos,
la de la niebla azul y el arrayán romántico.

Princesa enamorada y mal correspondida.
Clavel rojo en un valle profundo y desolado.
La tumba que te guarda rezuma tu tristeza
a través de los ojos que ha abierto sobre el mármol.

[hedgehog]

2. I first heard of her when my mother was reading about the Hapsburgs.

Because of royal intermarriage, one poor fellow had her as 10 of sixteen great great grandmothers or some such!