confinement until the time of her death.

There is no trustworthy evidence to show that Juana was mad before the
death of her husband, and all her eccentricities of manner could well
have been accounted for by her wayward, jealous, and hysterical
character, but after her domestic tragedy there is little doubt but that
her mind was to some degree unsettled. Naturally nervous, and feeling
herself in the absolute power of persons who were hostile to her
interests, she became most excitable and suspicious, and may well have
lost her reason before her last hour came. The story of her confinement
in the old fortress at Tordesillas is enough in itself to show that
stronger minds than hers might have given way under that strain. This
palace-prison overlooked the river Douro, and was composed of a great
hall, which extended across the front of the building, and a number of
small, dark, and poorly ventilated rooms at the back. In addition to the
jailer, who was responsible for the prisoner, the place was filled with
a number of women, whose duty it was to keep a close watch upon Juana
and prevent her from making any attempt to escape. The use of the great
hall with its view across the river was practically denied to her, she
was never allowed to look out of the window under any circumstances, for
fear she might appeal to some passer-by for aid, and, in general, unless
she was under especial surveillance, she was confined, day in and day
out, in a little back room, a veritable cell, which was without windows,
and where her only light came from the rude candles common to that age.
Priests were frequent visitors, but, to the end, Juana would have
nothing to do with them, and it is even said that on more than one
occasion she had to be dragged to the prison chapel when she was ordered
to hear mass. No man can tell whether this unhappy woman would have
developed a strong, self-reliant character if the course of her life had
been other than it was, but, accepting the facts as they stand, there is
no more pathetic figure in all the history of Spain than this poor,
mistreated Juana la Loca, "the mad Juana," and to every diligent
student of Spanish history this instance of woman's inhumanity to woman
will ever be a blot on the scutcheon of the celebrated Isabella of
Castile.

The religious fanaticism which was responsible in part at least for the
fate of Juana soon took shape in a modified form as a definite national
policy, and the gran