John II Of Portugal

King of Portugal from 1481 to 1495

John II

Portrait of John II, currently residing in the Kunsthistorisches Museum in Vienna, depicts a man whose gaze suggests he's already judged you and found you wanting.

King of Portugal (more...)

Reign 28 August 1481 – 25 October 1495 Acclamation 31 August 1481, Sintra Predecessor Afonso V Successor Manuel I

Second, brief reign 10 November 1477 – 14 November 1477 Acclamation 10 November 1477, Santarém, Portugal Predecessor Afonso V Successor Afonso V

Born 3 May 1455, Saint George's Castle, Kingdom of Portugal Died 25 October 1495 (aged 40), Alvor (Portimão), Kingdom of the Algarve Burial Monastery of Batalha

Spouse Eleanor of Viseu (m. 1470)

Issue

Afonso, Prince of Portugal
Illegitimate: George of Lencastre, Duke of Coimbra

House Aviz Father Afonso V of Portugal Mother Isabella of Coimbra

John II (Portuguese: João II; pronounced [ʒuˈɐ̃w] in Portuguese; 3 May 1455 – 25 October 1495), posthumously celebrated, or perhaps simply observed, as the Perfect Prince (Portuguese: o Príncipe Perfeito), held the title of King of Portugal from 1481 until his rather inconvenient death in 1495. This was not his first foray into kingship, however, as he also briefly occupied the throne in 1477. His reign is most notably associated with the rather impressive feat of reestablishing the almost mythical authority of the Portuguese monarchy, which, like many things, had become somewhat diluted over time. Beyond mere power plays, he is credited with invigorating the Portuguese economy, a task typically left to those with less interest in grand pronouncements and more in ledgers. Furthermore, he was instrumental in renewing the relentless Portuguese exploration of Africa and Asia, setting the stage for a period of expansion that would redefine the known world, whether it wanted to be redefined or not.

Early life

Born into the grandeur and inevitable political machinations of Lisbon on 3 May 1455, John was the second son of Afonso V of Portugal and Isabella of Coimbra. One might imagine the initial relief that he wasn't the first, perhaps offering a fleeting moment of respite before the burdens of expectation inevitably settled. His parents had previously had another son, also named John, who sadly passed away in 1451, a grim reminder of the fragility of life even within royal nurseries. Just a mere month after his birth, on 25 June 1455, the infant John was officially declared the legitimate heir to the Portuguese crown. This declaration was swiftly followed by a formal oath of allegiance from the three estates – the clergy, nobility, and commoners – a customary ritual to secure the line of succession and perhaps to remind everyone involved who was, eventually, in charge.

The intricate dance of royal alliances began early for John. In 1468, his father, Afonso V, alongside Henry IV of Castile, attempted to orchestrate a rather ambitious double marriage. The plan was for John to marry Henry's daughter, Joanna, while Afonso himself would marry Henry's half-sister and designated heir-presumptive, Isabella of Castile. Such arrangements were, of course, purely for political expediency, rarely considering the personal preferences of the parties involved. However, Isabella, proving to possess a will of her own, rather inconveniently refused to consent to this strategically brilliant arrangement. Her refusal threw a wrench into the carefully laid plans, demonstrating that even in an age of arranged marriages, individual agency could, on occasion, assert itself. Instead, John eventually married Eleanor of Viseu, who was not only his first cousin but also the eldest daughter of Ferdinand, Duke of Viseu. This union took place on 22 January 1471, a more conventional match that perhaps lacked the dramatic flair of the Castilian proposal but ultimately served its dynastic purpose.

Early campaigns

From an early age, Prince John was initiated into the rather brutal realities of medieval warfare and the pursuit of territorial expansion. He accompanied his father, Afonso V, on the campaigns in northern Africa, an area of considerable strategic importance and a frequent theater for Portuguese military endeavors. It was during these campaigns that John proved his mettle, participating in the Conquest of Arzila. This significant victory, achieved in August 1471, was deemed worthy of formal recognition, and following the successful campaign, John was knighted. This act not only cemented his status as a military leader but also served as a public affirmation of his readiness to assume the responsibilities of his royal lineage. The scene of his participation in these conquests is famously depicted on horseback in one of the exquisite Pastrana Tapestries. These tapestries, commissioned by Afonso V himself, were not merely decorative but served as a grand visual chronicle, celebrating Portuguese victories in Morocco and immortalizing the exploits of the royal house for posterity, ensuring that even textile art knew its place in propaganda.

Participation in the War of the Castilian Succession

The delicate balance of power on the Iberian Peninsula was, as usual, precarious. Following the death of Henry IV of Castile in December 1474, the succession became a hotly contested issue. His half-sister, Isabella, ascended to the Castilian throne, but a significant faction of the nobility, ever keen to exploit instability, opposed her. These disgruntled nobles, seeing an opportunity for their own advancement or simply a preference for a different monarch, offered the Castilian crown to Afonso V, John's father, on the condition that he marry Henry's daughter, Joanna. Prince John, ever the pragmatist with an eye for strategic advantage, vehemently urged his father to accept this proposal, recognizing the potential to expand Portuguese influence significantly by invading Castile.

However, the leading nobles of Portugal, particularly the powerful Marquis of Vila Viçosa, were less enthusiastic, openly opposing John's conviction. Their reluctance stemmed from a complex web of personal interests, fears of a protracted war, and perhaps a healthy dose of suspicion regarding the potential shift in power dynamics such a union might entail. Despite this internal dissent, Afonso V, swayed by the allure of a dual crown, dispatched an envoy to Castile to gauge the level of support for Joanna's cause. Upon receiving what he deemed "favorable accounts respecting the partisans of the Infanta," he, with the predictable enthusiasm of a monarch eyeing new territory, ordered immediate war preparations for the coming spring.

On 12 May 1475, Afonso and John, leading a substantial army comprising some 5,600 cavalry and 14,000 foot soldiers, crossed into Castile. Afonso V proceeded to Palencia to formally meet Joanna, while John, with his characteristic sense of duty, returned home to govern the kingdom in his father's absence. Just a few days later, on May 25, Joanna and Afonso were formally betrothed and, with much pomp and circumstance, proclaimed sovereigns of Castile. This formal marriage, however, was somewhat premature, as Joanna was Afonso's niece, and they had not yet received the necessary papal dispensation for such a union, a minor detail that rarely stopped ambitious monarchs. In the same month, John's wife, Eleanor, gave birth to their only child who would survive infancy, Afonso, a new life entering the world amidst the chaos of dynastic ambition.

By late 1475, the Castilian campaign was not progressing as smoothly as Afonso V might have hoped. With his army significantly depleted, a mere fragment of its original strength, he penned urgent letters to John, imploring his son to provide much-needed reinforcements. John, demonstrating his growing capacity for leadership, responded swiftly. He successfully raised a new army and departed for Castile once more in January 1476, entrusting the regency of the kingdom to his wife, Eleanor, a testament to her capabilities and the urgent nature of the military situation.

The climactic confrontation of this struggle occurred in March 1476, at Toro, Zamora. Here, Afonso V and John, commanding approximately 8,000 men, faced off against Castilian forces of a comparable size. The Castilian army was led by Isabella's formidable husband, Ferdinand of Aragon, along with influential figures such as Cardinal Mendoza and the Duke of Alba. The battle was, to put it mildly, a chaotic affair. King Afonso V found himself thoroughly routed by the left and center divisions of King Ferdinand's army, suffering a decisive defeat that forced him to flee the battlefield in disarray. However, on the other flank, Prince John, displaying remarkable military prowess, managed to defeat the Castilian right wing. In a moment of symbolic and practical triumph, he recovered the lost Portuguese Royal standard, a flag that had been bravely, but unsuccessfully, defended by the Portuguese soldier Duarte de Almeida. John held his ground, preventing a complete collapse of the Portuguese forces.

Despite the valor shown by John, the overall outcome of the Battle of Toro is often described as indecisive by historians. Both sides claimed victory, a common enough occurrence when the stakes are high and propaganda is a weapon. However, in the grander scheme of political maneuvering, this uncertain military result was, in fact, a colossal political victory for Isabella and Ferdinand. The perception of Afonso's flight and the stability of the Castilian forces severely damaged his prospects for obtaining the Castilian crown, effectively ending his serious challenge. Isabella, with a masterstroke of political theater, skillfully recast the ambiguous events of Toro as a stupendous victory for Castile, solidifying her and Ferdinand's claim. John, seeing the writing on the wall, promptly returned to Portugal to disband the remnants of his army, arriving within the first week of April, his strategic mind already shifting to the next inevitable conflict.

De facto rule

Months after the rather messy affair at the Battle of Toro, in August 1476, Afonso V, ever the optimist, embarked on a journey to France. His rather desperate hope was to secure the assistance of King Louis XI of France in his ongoing, and increasingly futile, struggle against Castile. Diplomacy, it seemed, was his last resort. By September 1477, thoroughly disheartened by the fact that his efforts to secure French support had, predictably, proved fruitless, Afonso made a rather dramatic gesture: he abdicated the throne and announced his intention to embark on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. One might wonder if this was a genuine spiritual calling or simply a king-sized temper tantrum.

However, the weight of the crown, or perhaps the persistent nagging of his court, proved too strong. He was eventually persuaded to abandon his pilgrimage and return to Portugal, arriving in November 1477. Unbeknownst to him, John had been proclaimed king just days prior to his father's return, an almost comical timing. Yet, John, with a blend of filial respect and political cunning, relinquished his newly acquired title without a fuss, insisting that his father reassume the crown. It was a move that solidified his own image as a loyal son while subtly demonstrating his capacity to rule.

From 1477 to 1481, the dynamic within the Portuguese monarchy shifted significantly. John and Afonso V functioned as "practically co-rulers," a delicate balance of power that clearly saw John taking on an increasingly prominent role. Already granted control of overseas policy in 1474, John was acutely focused on consolidating Portuguese control over territories in Africa. This strategic imperative made him a key player in negotiating the Treaty of Alcáçovas (1479) with Spain. This treaty, a landmark agreement, not only brought a formal end to the War of the Castilian Succession but, more importantly for Portugal, ensured its hegemony in the Atlantic south of the Canary Islands. It was a shrewd diplomatic victory, carving out a vast sphere of influence for Portugal. The treaty also cemented dynastic ties, arranging for the marriage of John's son, Afonso, to the eldest daughter of the Catholic Monarchs, Isabella, further intertwining the destinies of the Iberian kingdoms.

Following the death of his father on 28 August 1481, John's ascent to the throne was no longer provisional. He was officially proclaimed King of Portugal and, with the full weight of royal authority, crowned at Sintra on 31 August. The stage was set for a reign that would prove both transformative and ruthless.

Reign

Consolidation of power

Miniature of King John II in the Livro dos Copos, a manuscript written between 1490 and 1498, depicts a ruler who understood the subtle art of projecting authority, even on a small scale.

Upon his official accession to the throne, John II wasted no time in making his intentions clear. He embarked on a deliberate and aggressive campaign to diminish the excessive power and influence that the nobility had managed to accumulate during his father's rather more lenient reign. It was a clear signal: the king was no longer merely the "first among equals." In 1481, he convened the Cortes in Évora, orchestrating a grand oath-taking ceremony. During this event, magnates and all other subjects were not merely invited, but required, to swear allegiance to him as their unequivocal superior. This was a calculated move, perceived as deeply humiliating by many members of the upper nobility, who were accustomed to the more relaxed feudal tradition of acknowledging the king as a peer, albeit a senior one. John, however, was not interested in tradition unless it served his purpose.

At the very same Cortes, John further inflamed noble sensibilities by declaring that all existing property title deeds would undergo rigorous examination to verify their validity, rather than being simply rubber-stamped en masse. This was a direct threat to the vast, often ill-gotten, landholdings of the aristocracy. Furthermore, after representatives of the commoners, emboldened by the king's stance, voiced numerous grievances concerning the abuses committed by the nobility and clergy, John acted decisively. He stripped the nobles of their long-held right to administer justice within their own sprawling estates. Instead, he authorized crown officials, known as corregedors, to inspect and dispense justice throughout the realm, bypassing the feudal lords entirely. This effectively claimed one of the most important rights of sovereignty, boldly tearing asunder the privileges of even the most powerful favorites of his father's era. These resolutions, enacted at the very dawn of his reign, laid the groundwork for a profound revolution in favor of monarchical centralization.

Such aggressive assertions of royal supremacy, naturally, did not sit well with the entrenched nobility. Resentment simmered, and by 1482, a dangerous conspiracy began to coalesce around Fernando, Duke of Braganza. Braganza, the wealthiest nobleman in Portugal, and his numerous followers, allegedly received clandestine support from the powerful Catholic Monarchs of Spain, who no doubt saw an opportunity to destabilize their rival. John II, however, was not one to tolerate insubordination. He responded with chilling efficiency, having Fernando arrested, subjected to a trial that was likely a mere formality, and convicted of twenty-two counts of treason. In a stark display of royal power, Fernando was publicly beheaded in June 1483. Following this brutal execution, the vast assets of the House of Braganza were confiscated by the Crown, and the surviving members of the family were forced to flee to Castile, their power utterly shattered.

The execution of Braganza, rather than quelling dissent entirely, only served to ignite even more intrigue among the upper nobility. They rallied behind Diogo, Duke of Viseu, who held the unfortunate distinction of being John's cousin and, more awkwardly, the brother of his Queen Consort, Eleanor. In September 1484, John, in a move that underscored his ruthless pragmatism, summoned Diogo to his private chambers. There, he confronted his cousin with undeniable evidence of treason. What followed was not a formal trial or a public execution, but a chillingly personal act: John himself stabbed Diogo to death. It was a stark, brutal demonstration that no one, regardless of lineage or familial ties, was beyond the reach of his absolute authority.

Other ringleaders involved in this latest plot were swiftly persecuted, facing either execution or exile. Ultimately, John II proved remarkably successful in enriching the Crown by systematically executing or exiling most of Portugal's feudal lords and confiscating their extensive estates. For the remainder of his reign, he consciously kept the creation of new noble titles to an absolute minimum, ensuring that the power and wealth of the aristocracy remained firmly subordinate to the monarchy. He even allowed Diogo's younger brother, Manuel, to inherit his titles and estate, a calculated act of seeming generosity that would eventually see Manuel succeed John as King of Portugal, a twist of fate John likely never intended.

Economy and administration

Under the astute and firm direction of John II, the entire commercial activity in Africa was meticulously transformed into a crown monopoly. This was not merely an administrative tweak; it was a strategic masterstroke. The immense profits generated by these African ventures poured directly into the royal coffers, providing the king with an unprecedented level of financial independence. This newfound wealth enabled him to fund ambitious exploration expeditions without the traditional reliance on the Cortes for financial support, thus further reducing the influence of the nobility and solidifying the monarchy's power. It was a self-perpetuating cycle: exploration led to profit, profit funded more exploration and more power.

Beyond simply accumulating wealth, John II also focused on administrative reforms designed to centralize and streamline governance. He established a new and crucial court, known as the Mesa or Tribunal do Desembargo do Paço. This institution was tasked with the weighty responsibility of supervising petitions for pardon, meticulously reviewing privileges and freedoms, and overseeing the intricate process of legislation. It was a direct extension of royal authority, ensuring that even the minutiae of governance passed through his centralized control. Furthermore, John instituted annual elections for the judges, clerks, and hospital stewards who operated under federal jurisdiction, aiming to improve accountability and efficiency. While his ambitious attempts to fully centralize hospitals across Portugal were not entirely implemented during his lifetime, they undeniably paved the way for the radical and far-reaching reforms that would be introduced during the subsequent reign of Manuel I. John II, it seems, was not just a conqueror but also a meticulous administrator, understanding that true power lay not just in military might but in the precise control of institutions and finances.

Exploration

John II, with a clarity of vision that few monarchs possess, famously revitalized and expanded the policies of Atlantic exploration, effectively reviving and broadening the foundational work laid by his great-uncle, the legendary Henry the Navigator. This wasn't merely a continuation; it was an acceleration, a strategic imperative. The Portuguese explorations became his paramount priority in government, consuming a significant portion of his attention and resources. He was a keen patron, supporting both local Portuguese talents and foreign experts, such as João Afonso de Aveiro and the renowned German cartographer Martin Behaim, to further his ambitious goals. The driving force behind these endeavors was clear: Portuguese explorers were to relentlessly push south along the known coast of Africa, driven by the singular purpose of discovering the elusive maritime route to India and, crucially, breaking into the immensely lucrative spice trade that had long been dominated by Venetian and Arab merchants.

During John II's active and decisive reign, a series of monumental achievements were realized, forever altering the geographical and commercial landscape of the world. It's worth noting, however, that the true extent of Portuguese explorations during this period has been a subject of academic debate. There are persistent allegations that some navigations were deliberately kept secret, primarily out of a very real fear of competition from neighboring Castile. Further complicating historical reconstruction, the archives from this pivotal period suffered catastrophic losses in the fire that followed the devastating 1755 Lisbon earthquake. Whatever precious documents survived that calamity were subsequently either stolen or destroyed during the turbulent Peninsular War or simply lost to the vagaries of time. Despite these historical lacunae, the known accomplishments remain impressive:

1482: The establishment of the coastal fortress and crucial trade post of São Jorge da Mina (Elmina) on the Gold Coast. This wasn't just a fort; it was a powerful symbol of Portuguese commercial and military dominance in the region, securing access to vast gold reserves.
1484: The momentous discovery of the mighty Congo River by Diogo Cão, opening up a new and vast riverine system to European knowledge, albeit not without its own set of challenges.
1488: The landmark discovery and successful passage of the Cape of Good Hope by Bartolomeu Dias near Mossel Bay. This achievement was nothing short of revolutionary, proving conclusively that a sea route around Africa to the East was indeed possible, shattering long-held geographical assumptions.
1493: The initiation of the settlement of the São Tomé and Príncipe islands by Álvaro Caminha, islands that would later become crucial for sugar production and, tragically, a hub for the burgeoning slave trade.
The funding of ambitious land expeditions led by Afonso de Paiva and Pêro da Covilhã with the dual objective of reaching India and establishing contact with the fabled Christian kingdom of Prester John in Ethiopia, a persistent myth that fueled much of Europe's eastward ambitions.

Recognizing the increasingly scientific nature of these voyages, in 1484, John II sagaciously appointed a Maritime Advisory Committee, famously known as the Junta dos Mathematicos. This committee was charged with the vital task of supervising navigational efforts, ensuring that explorers were equipped with the most accurate charts and advanced instruments available at the time. It was an early recognition of the importance of scientific rigor in an age of daring exploration.

Around this very time, a rather persistent Genoese mariner named Christopher Columbus presented his audacious plan for a westward voyage to John II. Columbus, ever confident, proposed reaching the Indies by sailing across the Atlantic. The king, rather than dismissing it out of hand, wisely relegated Columbus's proposal to his esteemed Junta dos Mathematicos. The committee, displaying an impressive grasp of astronomical and geographical calculations for the era, rejected it. Their reasoning was, quite simply, correct: Columbus's estimate for the voyage, a mere 2,400 nautical miles, was a staggering one-quarter of what the actual distance should have been. It seems the committee understood the curvature of the Earth better than Columbus himself. In 1488, Columbus, undeterred, once again appealed to the court of Portugal, and John II, perhaps out of a sense of courtesy or a flicker of renewed interest, granted him another audience. This meeting, too, proved unsuccessful. Part of the reason was that not long afterward, Bartolomeu Dias triumphantly returned to Portugal with the groundbreaking news of his successful rounding of the southern tip of Africa (the Cape of Good Hope). With the eastern route to India now definitively proven, John II and his advisors had little further interest in what likely seemed to them a hare-brained and unnecessarily risky westward plan. Columbus, left with no other viable option in Portugal, then sought an audience with the Catholic Monarchs of Spain, eventually, and famously, securing their invaluable support, thus changing the course of history, much to Portugal's eternal chagrin.

Conflict with Castile

The diplomatic dance with Castile, a perpetual feature of Iberian politics, intensified dramatically with the return of Christopher Columbus. While making his way home from his first voyage of "discovery" early in 1493, Columbus's vessel was unceremoniously driven by a storm into the port of Lisbon. John II, ever the astute monarch, extended a warm, if undoubtedly calculating, welcome to Columbus. However, the pleasantries quickly gave way to a firm assertion of Portuguese rights. John II informed Columbus, with a polite but undeniable tone, that under the terms of the Treaty of Alcáçovas that had been previously signed with Spain, all of Columbus's recent discoveries lay squarely within Portugal's designated sphere of influence. This was not a mere suggestion; it was a direct challenge to Castilian claims.

To underscore his resolve, the king promptly began preparations for a fleet under the command of Francisco de Almeida, explicitly intending to sail and formally claim these newly charted islands. The message was clear: Portugal was ready to defend its perceived rights. Anxious to avoid an open war, which neither kingdom truly desired, the Catholic Monarchs of Spain, Isabella and Ferdinand, swiftly arranged for negotiations. These crucial discussions took place in the small Spanish town of Tordesillas. The outcome of this meeting, after intense diplomatic wrangling, was the famously consequential Treaty of Tordesillas. This treaty, a bold and almost absurd act of global cartography, sought to arbitrarily divide all newly discovered lands in the New World, whether known or yet to be discovered, between the two dominant Iberian powers, Spain and Portugal. It was a testament to the era's presumption, carving up continents with a line on a map.

Religious policy

John II's approach to religious policy, particularly concerning the Jewish population, was a curious blend of political expediency and, at times, stark cruelty. At the behest of parliamentary representatives, he sanctioned several anti-Jewish laws, a move often driven by popular sentiment and the desire to appease specific factions. These restrictions included rather petty measures such as limitations on Jewish clothing and the emancipation of Christian converts who were, for some reason, owned by Jews. However, the king's personal attitude towards Portuguese Jews has been described as more pragmatic. He clearly valued their significant economic contributions, recognizing their role in the kingdom's financial prosperity, and on several occasions, he defended them against what he considered unjust harassment, a rare flicker of what might be called even-handedness.

The situation for Jews in Portugal took a dramatically darker turn following the decision by the Catholic Monarchs to expel all Jews from Castile and Aragon in 1492. Faced with a wave of desperate refugees, John II authorized the admission of tens of thousands of Jews into Portugal, but at a steep price: eight cruzados per head. This was not an act of charity, but a revenue-generating exercise. Furthermore, he imposed a strict time limit, refusing to allow them to stay longer than eight months. Of the estimated 20,000 families who initially entered Portugal, only a mere 600 of the most affluent Castilian Jewish families managed to secure permanent residence permits, their wealth perhaps buying them a temporary reprieve from the impending doom.

For the vast majority of Jews unable to leave the country within the specified interval—often a direct result of their impoverished state, having been stripped of their assets upon expulsion from Spain—the outcome was devastating. They were summarily reduced to slavery, a horrific fate that was not remedied until the reign of John's successor, Manuel I. The cruelty did not stop there. Many of the children of these enslaved Castilian Jews were brutally seized from their parents, an act of unimaginable trauma, and forcibly deported to the distant African island of São Tomé. Their tragic purpose there was to be raised as Christians and to serve as colonists, a macabre form of social engineering. Jewish sources offer varying estimations for the number of children sent to São Tomé. Rabbi Capsali claimed 5,000 "boys," while Abraham ben Solomon Torrutiel believed it was 800 children, including both boys and girls. An anonymous Jewish chronicler suggests 700. Perhaps the most credible estimate comes from Valentim Fernandes, a German printer who settled in Portugal in 1495. Based on sailor testimonies, his 1510 description of São Tomé asserts that 2,000 Jewish children initially arrived, of whom only 600 survived into adulthood. This chilling policy remains a stain on John II's reign, demonstrating the brutal intersection of religious zeal, economic opportunism, and royal power.

Succession and death

The grand plans and absolute authority of John II were tragically undermined by an inescapable force: fate. In July 1491, his only legitimate child, the highly anticipated Prince Afonso, met an untimely end in a horse accident. This devastating loss plunged Portugal into a profound succession crisis, as the carefully cultivated dynastic line was abruptly severed. The king, naturally, desired his illegitimate son, Jorge, to succeed him, a testament to his personal affections and perhaps a desire to maintain his own bloodline on the throne. However, Queen Eleanor, ever astute in matters of court politics and fiercely protective of her own family's interests, was unyielding in her intent to secure the succession for her younger brother, Manuel, who, by established law, was the rightful heir presumptive.

This ignited a period of bitter disputes between John and Eleanor, a private struggle for the future of the kingdom. John, desperate to legitimize Jorge, even pursued a failed petition to Rome, seeking papal approval for his son's claim. The Vatican, however, remained unmoved, adhering to the strictures of canon law. Following these exhausting and ultimately fruitless efforts, and with his health rapidly failing, John finally conceded. While on his deathbed in September 1495, he recognized Manuel as his official heir in his will, a final, reluctant act of pragmatism over personal desire.

John II died of dropsy, a condition characterized by severe swelling, at Alvor (Portimão) on 25 October 1495. He was succeeded, as fate and his final will dictated, by Manuel I. Initially, his remains were interred at the Silves Cathedral, a temporary resting place. However, in 1499, in a more fitting tribute to a monarch of his stature, his remains were ceremoniously transferred to the magnificent Monastery of Batalha, where he joined other illustrious members of the House of Aviz, a final acknowledgment of his profound impact on the kingdom he had so ruthlessly and effectively ruled.

Legacy

The moniker "the Perfect Prince" is a posthumous appellation, bestowed upon John II with a clear, if somewhat ironic, reference to Niccolò Machiavelli's seminal work, The Prince. It is often asserted, with a certain unsettling admiration, that John II lived his life and conducted his reign precisely according to the writer's stringent idea of a perfect, albeit morally ambiguous, ruler. Regardless of the ethical implications of such "perfection," he was widely admired, even by his rivals, as one of the most formidable European monarchs of his era. So much so that Isabella I of Castile, herself no stranger to wielding power with an iron fist, often referred to him, with a mixture of respect and perhaps a touch of fear, as El Hombre (The Man). It’s the kind of nickname that sticks, implying competence and ruthlessness in equal measure, like a character from an early spaghetti-western.

The Italian scholar Poliziano penned a letter to John II that was nothing short of a profound homage, a testament to the king's far-reaching reputation:

"to render you thanks on behalf of all who belong to this century, which now favours of your quasi-divine merits, now boldly competing with ancient centuries and all Antiquity."

Indeed, Poliziano, in a display of effusive flattery or genuine awe, considered John II's achievements to be even more meritorious than those of historical titans like Alexander the Great or Julius Caesar. He went so far as to offer to compose an epic work, a grand literary undertaking, specifically to chronicle John II's numerous accomplishments in navigation and conquest. The king, ever pragmatic and perhaps appreciative of a good publicist, replied in a positive manner in a letter dated 23 October 1491, but, with the characteristic delay of a busy monarch, postponed the actual commission. It seems even "perfect princes" had their priorities, and grand epics could wait.

In popular culture

John II's commanding presence and pivotal role in history have ensured his occasional appearance in popular media, often reflecting the image of a shrewd and powerful monarch:

In the TV series Christopher Columbus (1985), he is portrayed by the distinguished actor Max von Sydow, lending his gravitas to the role.
In the film Christopher Columbus: The Discovery (1992), he is played by Mathieu Carrière.
He makes an appearance in Civilization IV (as João II), leading the Portuguese civilization, offering players a taste of his strategic acumen.
In the TV series Isabel, his character is brought to life by Álvaro Monje.

Marriage and descendants

John II's marital life and the subsequent lineage, while marked by dynastic ambition, were also touched by personal tragedy and the unpredictable nature of fate. His primary marriage was to his first cousin, Leonor of Viseu, a union that, despite its political expediency, produced children who were central to the succession.

Name	Birth	Death	Notes
By Leonor of Viseu (2 May 1458 – 17 November 1525; married in January 1471)
Infante Afonso	18 May 1475	13 July 1491	The designated Prince of Portugal. His untimely death in a horse riding accident created a profound succession crisis for the kingdom. Due to this premature demise, the throne was eventually inherited by Manuel of Viseu, Duke of Beja, son of Ferdinand, Duke of Viseu, who would reign as Manuel I, the 14th King of Portugal.
Stillborn	1483	1483	A stillborn son, born in 1483, further highlighting the precariousness of royal succession and the high rates of infant mortality even within the most privileged families of the era.
By Ana de Mendonça (c. 1460–?)
Jorge	21 August 1481	22 July 1550	John II's natural son, known as Jorge de Lancastre, who was later made Duke of Coimbra. Despite his father's fervent desire for him to succeed to the throne, his illegitimate status ultimately prevented his ascension, contributing significantly to the succession disputes at the end of John II's reign.

Ancestry

The lineage of John II, like that of many European monarchs, is a complex tapestry woven from various royal houses, demonstrating the intricate web of alliances and intermarriages that characterized medieval European royalty.

Ancestors of John II of Portugal

Notes

^a The name João was rendered as Joam in Archaic Portuguese, a linguistic detail often lost to modern sensibilities.
^b The couple's first son, also named John, born in 1451, tragically died in infancy, a harsh reality of the era that often shaped royal succession.
^c The formal marriage between Joanna and Afonso was delayed because Joanna was Afonso's niece, and the two had not yet received a papal dispensation, a bureaucratic hurdle that, while significant, rarely deterred determined monarchs.
^d John, in a calculated move of both power and pragmatic succession planning, allowed Diogo's younger brother, Manuel, to inherit his titles and estate. This Manuel would, in a twist of dynastic fate, eventually succeed John as King of Portugal, demonstrating that even a ruthless king could inadvertently set the stage for his rival's rise.
^e The true extent of Portuguese explorations during this period has been the subject of ongoing academic debate. It is widely alleged that some navigations were deliberately kept secret, a strategic move to prevent competition, particularly from the ever-watchful neighboring Crown of Castile. Further complicating historical research, the archives from this pivotal period suffered catastrophic destruction in the fire that followed the devastating 1755 Lisbon earthquake. What precious documents managed to survive that calamity were subsequently either stolen or destroyed during the tumultuous Peninsular War or were simply lost to the relentless march of time, leaving tantalizing gaps in our understanding.
^f Soyer (2009) provides a nuanced perspective on the number of Jewish children forcibly deported by João II to São Tomé Island. Jewish sources offer differing estimations: Rabbi Capsali states that 5,000 "boys" were taken, while Abraham ben Solomon Torrutiel (1482–?) believed the number to be 800 children, encompassing both boys and girls. An anonymous Jewish chronicler alludes to 700. However, the most credible estimation may be that offered by Valentim Fernandes, a German printer who established himself in Portugal in 1495. Fernandes, who wrote a description of the islands based on the testimony of sailors who had visited, asserted in his 1510 publication that the Jewish children who arrived on the island had originally numbered 2,000, of whom only 600 tragically survived into adulthood.