This is an enormous banquet of fascinating information about about women who made big history. These were the girls who INSPIRED the saying that well behaved women DON'T make history. I truly thought I knew a lot about these particular royal rebels, but LO! Helen Castor has a lot to teach us all! This book is probably not for the casual reader, but for anyone with a real interest in English History, it is a treasure.
Almost everyone has some familiarity with Elizabeth I, you know, the Virgin Queen, Gloriana, yada yada, yada. However, she had some seriously aggressive ladies opening the show for her. The first female contender for the throne was Matilda, the last surviving child of Henry I. Her paternal grandfather was William the Conqueror. Her maternal grandmother was St. Margaret of Scotland. Wow! The butcher and the beatified---really big shoes to fill. Matilda definitely showed some style at an early age. She was eight years old when she was sent to Germany to marry the Holy Roman Emperor. She literally grew up in the most glittering formal court in Western Europe, learning to play power politics before she cut her adult molars. In her mid-twenties, she was widowed, and at the same time her father recalled her to England because he had lost his male heir in a shipwreck. Henry I did not take no for an answer, and he made his nobles swear to accept Matilda, still known as "the Empress" as his heir to the throne. He made Matilda accept a new husband in Geoffrey Plantagenet, the Comte d'Anjou. Geoffrey was still a teenager, but he was a serious contender as a war-leader. Matilda and Geoffrey could hardly stand each other, but he could lead her troops and she gave him a legitimate claim to tons of loot; clearly a marriage made in heaven. Unfortunately for woman's rights, Matilda's cousin Stephen of Blois, (pronounced Blwah, great name, huh?) had streaked in, grabbed the treasury and crown at Winchester and had himself crowned, tout de suite. Matilda was tied down in the last heavy months of pregnancy, and Geoffrey was busy conquering Normandy, so Stephen's coup was a temporary success. For the next decade, Matilda and Stephen rode the wheel of fortune, now up, now down, now captured, now escaped, now censured by the Pope, now the darling of fate. A really bad time was had by all. Finally both exhausted parties agreed to allow Stephen to retain the crown for his lifetime and for Matilda's son Henry to rule after him. This son was to put together an Empire that dominated Western Europe. Popes and princes shook in their silk slippers at his frown. He was called many names, but to the end of his life he called himself Henry Fitz-Empress.
One would perhaps think that Henry Fitz-Empress had a sufficient acquaintance with alpha females after his redoubtable Mom, but think again! He married a beauty out of legend, Duchess in her own right of the richest territory in Europe, patroness of poets and troubadours, crusader to the Holy Land and ex-Queen of France. Yes, folks he married Eleanor of Aquitaine, a woman so vital, so fabulous that they had to get Katherine Hepburn to play her in the movie. (Yeah, The Lion in Winter!) Eleanor gave Henry eight children, all beautiful, intelligent and rebellious. She lead a rebellion against her husband that came so close to succeeding that he kept her locked up the rest of his life. She was a wise counselor to her son Richard Couer de Leon, and ruled England for him while he was on Crusade. She lived long enough to see her grandchildren on every major throne in Europe. She was the top, the real deal, the cat's pajamas and the bee's knees. She was also the ancestress of all the rest of the she-wolves. (It's in the DNA.)
Isabella of France was also a legendary beauty, married at age twelve to the first Prince of Wales to seal a peace treaty between England and France. She ran into trouble, because, as a later Princess of Wales was to say, there was a third party in the bed. Her handsome husband was obsessed with a pretty, vain, arrogant, witty young man named Piers de Gaveston. Her father-in-law, Edward I, banished Gaveston, but as soon as Edward passed away and his son was enthroned as Edward II, Gaveston was back, shinier than ever. Gaveston had a nasty tongue and a unique ability to make enemies. Very soon, the English nobility became convinced that Isabella's husband would never get down to the business of being king as long as Gaveston took all his time and interest. Various factions among the nobility came to armed rebellion to convince the king to moderate his obsession. Besides giving birth to four children and carrying out all her domestic duties, Isabella spent a lot of time on her knees, pleading for mercy for this or that faction, or going back and forth between parties pleading for peace. It was a futile employment, as Edward would promise anything to get what he wanted and then break his word as soon as he could. Finally, the nobles led by the Duke of Lancaster, captured Gaveston and executed him. This had the effect of fixing Edward's attention on business, but unfortunately, the business was revenge. Edward had the cunning to lie low and gather new allies before attempting his vengeance, but sadly, his new favorites, a father and son team both named Hugh DeSpenser, were even more rapacious and self-serving than Gaveston had been. The nobles were rumbling and grumbling, the commons were starving, the perennial wars with Scotland were going badly and suddenly the peace with France was threatened. Edward couldn't leave England without his schemes unraveling, so he sent his number one diplomat, his most accomplished kneeler, his wife. Edward was sure that his obedient, complaisant wife would make all well with her brother, the king of France. Just to add to his "really dumb" quotient, we learn that Edward had achieved the execution of the Duke of Lancaster who was the queen's uncle. Not only did he present most of Lancaster's cash and lands to the DeSpensers, but to round up the total, he stripped the queen of a chunk of her revenues to sweeten the Despensers' pot. Needless to say this annoyed Isabella a lot. Once in France, at her brother's court, she didn't display much complaiscence. Edward compounded his blunders by sending their oldest son to France to do homage for their French holdings. Once her son was in her hands, she was able to invade England and depose her husband in favor of her son. (Oh yeah, she also had a hot affair with her most powerful supporter, Roger de Mortimer.) Sadly, boy kings do grow up and Young Edward dispensed with Mortimer and sent Mom off to live in the countryside.
The saddest of the almost kingly queens was Margaret of Anjou. She was another princess sent off to be a living peace bond. She was able, energetic, intelligent and pretty. Henry VI, her husband was amiable, pious and fond of cultural pursuits. What he was not was decisive, strong minded or kingly. He was a pleasant, absent weathervane, blowing with the prevailing wind. When serious trouble arose, he fell into a sort of pathological fugue state, unable to speak or move. Clearly someone else must mind the store and Margaret was accustomed to the example of her strong-minded mother and grandmother.
She was all set to run the family business. This set her up for a head on collision with the greatest magnate in England, the Duke of York. As the nearest adult MALE relative of the king, York expected to be declared regent. By some reckonings of succession, York might have had a better claim to the throne than Henry did. The resulting family spat is called the Wars of the Roses. What a pretty name for a dirty, savage, vicious bloodbath. Margaret was strong, resilient, inventive, untiring and relentless in pursuit of the rights of her husband and her son. Her reward was to lose her throne, her husband and then her precious son. Following her last loss, she retired to France, broken and drained and beggared. She died young, forgotten and penniless.
The shortest reign in England's history was that of a skinny, freckled bookworm named Lady Jane Grey. She derived her somewhat tenuous claim to reign from her descent from Henry VIII's youngest sister Mary. Her claims were pushed to advance the causes of Protestant faith,(she was devout and totally committed) and political expediency. (She was the daughter-in-law of a politician whose only hope to remain in power was her.)The actual heir, according to primogenitur and the will of Henry VIII,was Mary Tudor, the eldest daughter of Henry VIII. She was Roman Catholic,as devout and committed as Jane.
Someone had to draw the short straw and Queen Jane ruled only nine days. Mary was inclined to show Jane mercy until a new rebellion broke out. Jane was a focus for future strife and so she met her end on the scaffold.
Mary might have been the most pathetic poor soul to ever rule England. Her first twelve years were spent as the petted and beloved daughter of her golden father and her doting mother. Her world imploded when her father cast off her mother and abandoned her beloved church in search of a male heir and some hot nooky.(Did I SAY THAT? Nooooo, I meant a clever and charismatic lady in waiting named Anne Boleyn.) Mary clung to her religious rites and her love and respect for her mother, sustained by her ties to the Holy Roman Emperor and his ambassadors. (The HRE was her cousin Charles.) Mary's goal was to return England to the Papal fold and save all the souls of her subjects. Sadly, not all of her subjects wanted to be saved, at least not as Catholics. Mary acquired her "Bloody Mary" moniker with the best of intentions. She married her cousin Philip of Spain in the hope of conceiving a Catholic heir. Philip was blond, devoutly Catholic and connected to all the things that meant love and safety to Mary. But he had married her out of duty, and when it became apparent that there would be no heir, he abandoned ship. Poor Mary died childless and among her pathetic last words, she told her ladies that she heard choirs of children singing.
Obviously, the deck was stacked against women wielding regal power. It certainly doesn't seem to have brought them much happiness. Helen Castor tells their stories with vigor and panache, just as these ladies lived, but she gives the reader a lot to think about. Power has a high price tag for us girls, even now. But if you don't play, it don't pay, so you go, Sisters!