‘Infanta’ by Magdalena S. Sánchez review

Catalina Micaela, second daughter of Elisabeth of Valois and Philip II of Spain, and granddaughter of Catherine de’ Medici, was born in October 1567. In March 1585 she married Carlo Emanuele, duke of Savoy, a man she felt beneath her, but would go on to fall deeply in love with. Their marriage was to be interrupted by wars that kept them apart for months at a time. During Carlo’s absence, Catalina was left in charge of the duchy, acting as her husband’s lieutenant while running the household. Over the course of their marriage, Catalina was pregnant more than she was not, giving birth ten times in 12 and a half years. At least 3,127 letters were sent between the couple. The exchange ended abruptly with Catalina’s death in November 1597, aged only 30. At the memorial service held in Madrid, a sermon described the infanta and her husband as ‘two souls with the same will and two bodies in one’.

Despite the rich source material available in archives and published collections, including the thousands of letters, Catalina Micaela has been largely ignored by scholars. Most have focused on her older sister, Isabel, apparently their father’s favourite. Nevertheless, it was claimed that grief at his second daughter’s death shortened Philip’s life.

The letters, along with supplementary accounts of court life, are the treasure trove of information which inform Magdalena S. Sánchez’ extraordinary and engaging work of scholarship, the first full biography of Catalina. We get to know Catalina and Carlo intimately, and find out about Philip’s patience for a daughter who (thankfully) would defy his orders to burn the letters he sent her. Those letters were delivered by a surprisingly quick postal service: same or next day delivery for letters up to 35 miles away. Sánchez also reveals a strange culture of gift-giving: upon the birth of her first son, Catalina was presented with the finger of St Catherine in a crystal case decorated with jewels. Sánchez paints a vivid picture of the young infantas hearing their future marriage prospects being discussed in the court, at an age when today’s children would be in pre-school. Nevertheless, the princesses seem very close to their family, despite the ever-changing cast of characters, thanks to the constant spectre of death cutting relationships tragically short.

Those familiar with Philip and his rule will be aware of his micromanaging tendencies (obsessively attempting to personally control every aspect of his global empire) but they may be surprised to learn how far this extended into the lives of his children. In a practice that was apparently common at the time, Catalina’s measurements were taken, and her periods tracked, with a view to assessing her ability to bear children; information that would be passed on to her future husband during marriage negotiations. But letters between father and daughter show affection, with Philip seeming genuinely interested in her life and interests, and invested in training his children for their royal duties. He both gave her the ‘New World’ shipping news, and joked about the antics of his court jesters.

Despite the lively correspondence between Catalina and her husband, their relationship began on a sour note. Catalina felt let down by her father, forced to marry a mere duke in order to secure a geographically favourable alliance for the Spanish Crown. Various accounts tell of Catalina rebuking Philip for the match. The wedding night was also a disaster. Marriage contracts would only be ratified after they were consummated, so it was an important step in legal terms, but evidence from an account sent to an ex-ambassador (with information supplied by female court informants) suggests that Catalina begged Carlo not to go through with it on the night. This anecdote suggests the harsh reality that Catalina, a girl of 17, had to face losing her virginity to a 23-year-old man (experienced enough to have already fathered a child) who she had met 24 hours earlier, with her court and family all discussing the matter. According to the same account, Philip spoke to Catalina for two hours, and to Carlo for half an hour, to counsel them about their first sexual encounter.

Carlo worked hard to win the affections of the Spanish princess. Due to her status, he would ‘become’ a Spaniard after the wedding, dressing in the Spanish style and composing Spanish poetry for her. During their honeymoon in Nice, Carlo went to great lengths to impress his bride, entertaining her with boats towing sea monsters, and mythological figures emerging from caves upon her arrival. His efforts paid off. Letters throughout their marriage tell of their love, devotion, and grief at being separated. In one letter, Carlo joked that he was ugly, and in a response Catalina threatened to slap him for suggesting that their baby would be ugly if it looked like him. Catalina’s allegiance soon swapped from father to husband. She proved herself an extremely capable lieutenant while Carlo was away on military campaigns, but longed to be by his side, telling him that ‘I would like to be with you if only when you are on the commode’. Catalina seemed to mention the commode rather frequently, sometimes telling Carlo that she was writing to him while seated on it.

For a woman whose life was shaped largely by her role as a mother, we get a sense that Catalina was frustrated by the constraints of motherhood. She certainly cared for her children, discussing their health and sending Carlo portraits of them while he was on campaign, though they did not live with her. Her frequent pregnancies would have partly been to ensure the couple would have heirs to survive them, but it seems she was also trying to prevent Carlo from seeking mistresses. The constant childbearing took its toll, however, and when, after giving birth for the ninth time, Catalina’s period was late once again, she wrote to tell her husband that ‘it makes me fear that the tenth is in my belly’. It was this seemingly unwanted pregnancy, resulting in a stillbirth, that was the likely cause of her untimely death.

• Infanta: The Short, Remarkable Life of Catalina Micaela
  Magdalena S. Sánchez
  Yale University Press, 416pp, £30
  Buy from bookshop.org (affiliate link)

Amy Fuller is Senior Lecturer in the History of the Americas at Nottingham Trent University.