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The Rebel Empresses: Elisabeth of Austria and Eugénie of France, Power and Glamour in the Struggle for Europe
From the acclaimed author of
In the Shadow of the Empress
comes the thrilling chronicle of two of the most influential and glamorous women in nineteenth-century Europe—Elisabeth, empress of Austria, and Eugénie, empress of France—and their efforts to rule amid the scandal, intrigue, tragedy, and violence of their era.
When they married Emperors Franz Joseph and Napoleon III, respectively, Elisabeth of Austria and Eugénie of France became two of the most famous women on the planet. Not only were they both young and beautiful—becoming cultural and fashion icons of their time—but they played a pivotal role in ruling their realms during a tempestuous era characterized by unprecedented political and technological change.
Fearless, adventurous, and independent, Elisabeth and Eugénie represented a new kind of empress—one who rebelled against tradition and anticipated and embraced modern values. Yet both women endured hardship in their private and public lives. Elisabeth was plagued by a mother-in-law who snatched her infant children away and undermined her authority at court. Eugénie’s husband was an infamous philanderer who could not match the military prowess of his namesake. Between them, Elisabeth and Eugénie were personally involved in every major international confrontation in their turbulent century, which witnessed thrilling technological advances, as well as revolutions, assassinations, and wars.
With her characteristic in-depth research and jump-off-the-page writing, Nancy Goldstone brings to life these two remarkable women, as Europe goes through the convulsions that led up to the international landscape we recognize today.
When they married Emperors Franz Joseph and Napoleon III, respectively, Elisabeth of Austria and Eugénie of France became two of the most famous women on the planet. Not only were they both young and beautiful—becoming cultural and fashion icons of their time—but they played a pivotal role in ruling their realms during a tempestuous era characterized by unprecedented political and technological change.
Fearless, adventurous, and independent, Elisabeth and Eugénie represented a new kind of empress—one who rebelled against tradition and anticipated and embraced modern values. Yet both women endured hardship in their private and public lives. Elisabeth was plagued by a mother-in-law who snatched her infant children away and undermined her authority at court. Eugénie’s husband was an infamous philanderer who could not match the military prowess of his namesake. Between them, Elisabeth and Eugénie were personally involved in every major international confrontation in their turbulent century, which witnessed thrilling technological advances, as well as revolutions, assassinations, and wars.
With her characteristic in-depth research and jump-off-the-page writing, Nancy Goldstone brings to life these two remarkable women, as Europe goes through the convulsions that led up to the international landscape we recognize today.
610 pages, Kindle Edition
First published February 25, 2025
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November 2, 2025
“The nineteenth century reduce[d] Elisabeth and Eugénie, two of the most layered women of their time, to attractive footnotes on the pages of history. This age belongs instead to Victoria, its most enduring female monarch…But it is a mistake to overlook her sister sovereigns in France and Austria. Fearless, adventurous, and athletic; defiantly, even fiercely independent, Sisi and Eugénie represented, each in her own way, a new kind of empress, one who rebelled against traditional expectations and restrictions. Their beauty was undeniable but so too was their influence on a world that was fast becoming recognizably modern. As railroads for the first time crisscrossed kingdoms, and telegraphs linked continents, their lives would become so entwined that it is impossible to understand one without the other, or indeed the whole glorious whirlwind of a century in which they lived, without the beguiling power of their stories…”
- Nancy Goldstone, The Rebel Empresses: Elisabeth of Austria and Eugénie of France, Power and Glamor in the Struggle for Europe
Historical reality is incredibly grim. If you journey along the timeline of our existence, you will find it full of unfun things: wars and genocides; famines and disease; slavery and exploitation; corruption and pollution. As Kurt Vonnegut astutely noted: “All great literature is all about what a bummer it is to be a human being.”
On the other hand, the study of history is entertaining. I mean it! At the risk of sounding like a psychopath, all the ugly realities above make for compelling drama in the pages of a book. While obviously unpleasant, the past is also gripping, profound, and occasionally inspiring, especially when one centers it on people, rather than theories.
Nancy Goldstone is an author who understands this. She has forged a successful career highlighting or reframing some of the great women of the world, who have either been misinterpreted or outright ignored. She continues that in The Rebel Empresses, a dual biography of Empress Elisabeth (“Sisi”) of Austria and Empress Eugénie of France. Like her other works, this one is thrilling and fast paced, addictively readable, novelistic in detail, and intimate in focus.
My only problem – which is a compliment, in a way – is that both Sisi and Eugénie deserve their own books.
***
Perhaps a quick introduction is necessary, as neither Sisi nor Eugénie have quite the same name recognition – at least in the United States – as Queen Victoria or Catherine the Great (though fans of Netflix’s international slate will recognize Sisi from The Empress).
Sisi married Franz Joseph of Austria, the man who – after her death – ultimately made several fateful decisions ensuring the outbreak of the First World War. She was incredibly beautiful, a fact that shines through despite her subdued black-and-white photos. She also happened to be incredibly compassionate, adding an important dimension to the otherwise stilted court of the Hapsburgs.
Meanwhile, Eugénie – more ambitious than Sisi – intwined her destiny with that of Charles-Louis Napoleon Bonaparte, the self-styled Napoleon III, who overthrew France’s Second Republic and created the Second Empire.
Both women held their titles during the tumultuous years in which the old empires of Europe began edging toward their own destruction. In other words: they lived in interesting times.
***
The lives of Sisi and Eugénie only rarely intersected, though Goldstone makes the most of these meetings. As such, The Rebel Empresses is essentially two different books, each a chronological narrative that – at regular intervals – switches between each woman. The segues are clearly demarcated, and there is little chance for confusion, even if Goldstone sometimes has to jump back and forth in time.
Despite being contemporaries, I am not wholly convinced – though Goldstone clearly is – that the lives of Sisi and Eugénie really informed each other all that much. Instead, their biggest similarity is that they occupied the same job in the same period of time.
***
At 558 pages of text, The Rebel Empresses pushes the page-count limits for a volume of pop-history. With that said, it is about 558 pages short of what is required to fully comprehend the lives of Sisi and Eugénie. The result is a breakneck recounting that is thoroughly fun to read, and that is brimming with incident, but is not as rich or comprehensive as it could have been.
To take one example, Goldstone ends her work with Sisi’s death, covering the final twenty years of Eugénie’s life in one page. This is a letdown, for having known her in her youth, I wanted to spend time with her as she aged.
***
With a heavy emphasis on their early lives, Goldstone describes how both protagonists were born into relatively privileged circumstances, and eventually came to embody a certain aristocratic style that is still fetishized today. For all their superficial similarities, however, they were quite different in important ways.
Sisi came from Bavarian nobility; enjoyed a free-flowing upbringing; and was athletic, thrill-seeking, and a romantic. Essentially stealing Franz Joseph from her sister, she married out of love, and soon came to discover that in royal marriages, love did not make the list of priorities. Hemmed in by the protocols of court, and hounded by Archduchess Sophia, her hellish mother-in-law, Sisi chafed in her role, often leaving Vienna for length, semi-controversial excursions elsewhere.
On the other hand, Eugénie came from a family of strivers, and actively maneuvered Napoleon III into marriage. Unlike Sisi, she played a more active role in governance, and served as regent for a time. She valued the power that Sisi abjured.
Quite a bit happened while these two women wore their crowns. A short list of events they lived through include the Revolutions of 1848, the Crimean War, the saga of Archduke Maximillian in Mexico, the Austro-Prussian War, the Franco-Prussian War, and the Paris Commune. Goldstone does a decent job of sketching this context, but given the premium of space, it is necessarily cursory. The secondary cast – the aforementioned Sophia and Maximillian, Carlotta of Belgium, Otto von Bismarck – is absurdly deep, and I would’ve loved more time developing their characters.
Rather than fully placing these women in their times, Goldstone focuses on their personal experiences. The very notion of monarchy and royalty is an ongoing con-job to which many willingly submit. Like so many other institutions, it is simply a mechanism for gathering wealth and power to the few, and forcing the many to grovel for what remains. Even with their fantastic wealth and benefits, though, it’s unlikely that many would have exchanged places with Eugénie and Sisi. Eugénie was constantly humiliated by a cheating spouse; had to flee from France, after that cheating spouse tried to match wits with Bismark (an encounter akin to bringing a croissant to a gunfight); and lost her beloved only child during the Anglo-Zulu War. Sisi endured ritual indignities at court; lost one child to sickness; and lost a second child – the heir to the throne – to a weird murder-suicide at the Mayerling hunting lodge. To cap it all off, she also lost her life to an anarchist assassin.
Heavy lies the crown, as they say.
***
Given Goldstone’s reputation, as well as the source notes included in the book, The Rebel Empresses is the result of serious research and thought. Yet it is not written in the self-serious, leaden manner of many academic treatises. Goldstone employs a brisk, often tongue-in-cheek prose style, filled with asides, tangential footnotes, and the occasional commentary on the patriarchy.
In short, this is an effortless read. This is not to everyone’s tastes, of course. For my part, I’m firmly in the camp that sleuthing dusty libraries and documenting primary sources is only part of the historian’s discipline. It also requires storytelling prowess, which Goldstone has in abundance.
Ultimately, I’m reading this during the limited free time I have in a limited lifespan. I’m not looking for another chore.
***
The Rebel Empresses is not Goldstone’s first crack at a multi-person biography. It seems to be the structure with which she is most comfortable. Far be it from me to criticize her for that. At the same time, it is not as though we have too many books about the role of women in history, and it seems something of a shame to cram two fantastic lives into one.
Sisi and Eugénie never ruled in their own right. They did not lend their names to an age. They did not make the critical decisions so beloved by proponents of the “great man” theory of history. But this does not make them any less worthy of study or remembrance. Married to a couple of fail-crowns who drove their respective empires into the ground, Sisi and Eugénie managed to carve out roles for themselves by pushing at the bounds of convention, utilizing their wit and acuity, and precisely wielding the gifts granted to them by nature.
- Nancy Goldstone, The Rebel Empresses: Elisabeth of Austria and Eugénie of France, Power and Glamor in the Struggle for Europe
Historical reality is incredibly grim. If you journey along the timeline of our existence, you will find it full of unfun things: wars and genocides; famines and disease; slavery and exploitation; corruption and pollution. As Kurt Vonnegut astutely noted: “All great literature is all about what a bummer it is to be a human being.”
On the other hand, the study of history is entertaining. I mean it! At the risk of sounding like a psychopath, all the ugly realities above make for compelling drama in the pages of a book. While obviously unpleasant, the past is also gripping, profound, and occasionally inspiring, especially when one centers it on people, rather than theories.
Nancy Goldstone is an author who understands this. She has forged a successful career highlighting or reframing some of the great women of the world, who have either been misinterpreted or outright ignored. She continues that in The Rebel Empresses, a dual biography of Empress Elisabeth (“Sisi”) of Austria and Empress Eugénie of France. Like her other works, this one is thrilling and fast paced, addictively readable, novelistic in detail, and intimate in focus.
My only problem – which is a compliment, in a way – is that both Sisi and Eugénie deserve their own books.
***
Perhaps a quick introduction is necessary, as neither Sisi nor Eugénie have quite the same name recognition – at least in the United States – as Queen Victoria or Catherine the Great (though fans of Netflix’s international slate will recognize Sisi from The Empress).
Sisi married Franz Joseph of Austria, the man who – after her death – ultimately made several fateful decisions ensuring the outbreak of the First World War. She was incredibly beautiful, a fact that shines through despite her subdued black-and-white photos. She also happened to be incredibly compassionate, adding an important dimension to the otherwise stilted court of the Hapsburgs.
Meanwhile, Eugénie – more ambitious than Sisi – intwined her destiny with that of Charles-Louis Napoleon Bonaparte, the self-styled Napoleon III, who overthrew France’s Second Republic and created the Second Empire.
Both women held their titles during the tumultuous years in which the old empires of Europe began edging toward their own destruction. In other words: they lived in interesting times.
***
The lives of Sisi and Eugénie only rarely intersected, though Goldstone makes the most of these meetings. As such, The Rebel Empresses is essentially two different books, each a chronological narrative that – at regular intervals – switches between each woman. The segues are clearly demarcated, and there is little chance for confusion, even if Goldstone sometimes has to jump back and forth in time.
Despite being contemporaries, I am not wholly convinced – though Goldstone clearly is – that the lives of Sisi and Eugénie really informed each other all that much. Instead, their biggest similarity is that they occupied the same job in the same period of time.
***
At 558 pages of text, The Rebel Empresses pushes the page-count limits for a volume of pop-history. With that said, it is about 558 pages short of what is required to fully comprehend the lives of Sisi and Eugénie. The result is a breakneck recounting that is thoroughly fun to read, and that is brimming with incident, but is not as rich or comprehensive as it could have been.
To take one example, Goldstone ends her work with Sisi’s death, covering the final twenty years of Eugénie’s life in one page. This is a letdown, for having known her in her youth, I wanted to spend time with her as she aged.
***
With a heavy emphasis on their early lives, Goldstone describes how both protagonists were born into relatively privileged circumstances, and eventually came to embody a certain aristocratic style that is still fetishized today. For all their superficial similarities, however, they were quite different in important ways.
Sisi came from Bavarian nobility; enjoyed a free-flowing upbringing; and was athletic, thrill-seeking, and a romantic. Essentially stealing Franz Joseph from her sister, she married out of love, and soon came to discover that in royal marriages, love did not make the list of priorities. Hemmed in by the protocols of court, and hounded by Archduchess Sophia, her hellish mother-in-law, Sisi chafed in her role, often leaving Vienna for length, semi-controversial excursions elsewhere.
On the other hand, Eugénie came from a family of strivers, and actively maneuvered Napoleon III into marriage. Unlike Sisi, she played a more active role in governance, and served as regent for a time. She valued the power that Sisi abjured.
Quite a bit happened while these two women wore their crowns. A short list of events they lived through include the Revolutions of 1848, the Crimean War, the saga of Archduke Maximillian in Mexico, the Austro-Prussian War, the Franco-Prussian War, and the Paris Commune. Goldstone does a decent job of sketching this context, but given the premium of space, it is necessarily cursory. The secondary cast – the aforementioned Sophia and Maximillian, Carlotta of Belgium, Otto von Bismarck – is absurdly deep, and I would’ve loved more time developing their characters.
Rather than fully placing these women in their times, Goldstone focuses on their personal experiences. The very notion of monarchy and royalty is an ongoing con-job to which many willingly submit. Like so many other institutions, it is simply a mechanism for gathering wealth and power to the few, and forcing the many to grovel for what remains. Even with their fantastic wealth and benefits, though, it’s unlikely that many would have exchanged places with Eugénie and Sisi. Eugénie was constantly humiliated by a cheating spouse; had to flee from France, after that cheating spouse tried to match wits with Bismark (an encounter akin to bringing a croissant to a gunfight); and lost her beloved only child during the Anglo-Zulu War. Sisi endured ritual indignities at court; lost one child to sickness; and lost a second child – the heir to the throne – to a weird murder-suicide at the Mayerling hunting lodge. To cap it all off, she also lost her life to an anarchist assassin.
Heavy lies the crown, as they say.
***
Given Goldstone’s reputation, as well as the source notes included in the book, The Rebel Empresses is the result of serious research and thought. Yet it is not written in the self-serious, leaden manner of many academic treatises. Goldstone employs a brisk, often tongue-in-cheek prose style, filled with asides, tangential footnotes, and the occasional commentary on the patriarchy.
In short, this is an effortless read. This is not to everyone’s tastes, of course. For my part, I’m firmly in the camp that sleuthing dusty libraries and documenting primary sources is only part of the historian’s discipline. It also requires storytelling prowess, which Goldstone has in abundance.
Ultimately, I’m reading this during the limited free time I have in a limited lifespan. I’m not looking for another chore.
***
The Rebel Empresses is not Goldstone’s first crack at a multi-person biography. It seems to be the structure with which she is most comfortable. Far be it from me to criticize her for that. At the same time, it is not as though we have too many books about the role of women in history, and it seems something of a shame to cram two fantastic lives into one.
Sisi and Eugénie never ruled in their own right. They did not lend their names to an age. They did not make the critical decisions so beloved by proponents of the “great man” theory of history. But this does not make them any less worthy of study or remembrance. Married to a couple of fail-crowns who drove their respective empires into the ground, Sisi and Eugénie managed to carve out roles for themselves by pushing at the bounds of convention, utilizing their wit and acuity, and precisely wielding the gifts granted to them by nature.
January 31, 2025
Sure, some people may be wary of The Rebel Empresses by Nancy Goldstone. It's history. It's over 500 pages. I realize a dual biography of two women not known to the general public may be a big ask. Who knows all that much about Elisabeth of Austria (better known as Sisi) and Eugénie of France? For the non-believers, allow me to quote from Goldstone completely out of context:
"Gondrecourt, who despised weakness, even in six-year-olds, took to the task with the brisk dedication of a future psychopath torturing a puppy."
I'm not going to explain any of that previous sentence, but can we all agree it is intriguing if not totally *chef's kiss*? Goldstone has enough here for both the history nerd (which is me) and the person who loves a little bit of smack talk mixed into their non-fiction (also me!).
For the history purists worried this is some pop culture abomination, have no fear. Goldstone's research is impeccable while being interesting. The length of the book is barely felt as the story seamlessly bounces between the two women and doesn't ever get bogged down in extensive or extraneous detail. Admittedly, the first few chapters felt like drinking from a fire-hose, but once you get into the groove of the narrative it all feels natural.
The choice of a dual biography is also inspired. These two women occupied the same time and space in Europe. They were in many ways polar opposites and then somehow at times mirrors of each other. Goldstone plays with this dichotomy and allows the reader to really know these women. She is generally positive about their legacies, but is not shy about calling them out when they deserve it. To put a fine point on it, I loved this book and think everyone should read it.
(This book was provided as an advance copy by Netgalley and Little, Brown and Company.)
"Gondrecourt, who despised weakness, even in six-year-olds, took to the task with the brisk dedication of a future psychopath torturing a puppy."
I'm not going to explain any of that previous sentence, but can we all agree it is intriguing if not totally *chef's kiss*? Goldstone has enough here for both the history nerd (which is me) and the person who loves a little bit of smack talk mixed into their non-fiction (also me!).
For the history purists worried this is some pop culture abomination, have no fear. Goldstone's research is impeccable while being interesting. The length of the book is barely felt as the story seamlessly bounces between the two women and doesn't ever get bogged down in extensive or extraneous detail. Admittedly, the first few chapters felt like drinking from a fire-hose, but once you get into the groove of the narrative it all feels natural.
The choice of a dual biography is also inspired. These two women occupied the same time and space in Europe. They were in many ways polar opposites and then somehow at times mirrors of each other. Goldstone plays with this dichotomy and allows the reader to really know these women. She is generally positive about their legacies, but is not shy about calling them out when they deserve it. To put a fine point on it, I loved this book and think everyone should read it.
(This book was provided as an advance copy by Netgalley and Little, Brown and Company.)
February 23, 2025
Thanks to NetGalley and Little, Brown & Company for access to this title. I am auto-approved by this publisher. All opinions expressed are my own.
It's been a while since I curled up with a historical biography. Nancy Goldstone presents a well-researched and compelling account of two women- Elizabeth "Sissi" of Austria and Eugenie of France. I believe that since Netflix has released two successful seasons (with a third promised) about the life of Elizabeth (the series is called The Empress); readers will appreciate finding more information here on these pages. Eugenie is also a fascinating woman in her own right. The text includes artworks of the empresses and those who were close to them. The chapters alternate between the two women, and I like that the author always places the name of the subject before the chapters begin.
It is mentioned that the author wanted readers to understand that Queen Victoria was not the only strong European woman who lived through personal upheavals and political triumphs. I do believe that with this book, Nancy Goldstone has accomplished that very thesis.
#TheRebelEmpresses #NetGalley.
Expected Publication Date 25/02/25
Goodreads Review Date 22/02/25
It's been a while since I curled up with a historical biography. Nancy Goldstone presents a well-researched and compelling account of two women- Elizabeth "Sissi" of Austria and Eugenie of France. I believe that since Netflix has released two successful seasons (with a third promised) about the life of Elizabeth (the series is called The Empress); readers will appreciate finding more information here on these pages. Eugenie is also a fascinating woman in her own right. The text includes artworks of the empresses and those who were close to them. The chapters alternate between the two women, and I like that the author always places the name of the subject before the chapters begin.
It is mentioned that the author wanted readers to understand that Queen Victoria was not the only strong European woman who lived through personal upheavals and political triumphs. I do believe that with this book, Nancy Goldstone has accomplished that very thesis.
#TheRebelEmpresses #NetGalley.
Expected Publication Date 25/02/25
Goodreads Review Date 22/02/25
March 2, 2025
Revolutions, regime changes, and risqué paramours, oh my! Nancy Goldstone is the queen of bringing to life the stoic, regal, static paintings of reines, showing just how dynamic, vibrant, curious, intelligent and strong women of history were, who have for too long been described as just wives to a crowned head.
It was smart for Goldstone to double bill this book, as Eugenie and Elisabeth had more in common than just being alive at the same time. I learned that they both came from humble beginnings (relative to their higher born contemporaries), neither were their families' first born child, yet they miraculously ascended the throne. After that, they both sought to carve out their own space in the bureaucracy filled, stifling court politics, male-dominated sphere of monarchic rule, where being an empress didn't guarantee personal happiness or freedom. They fought for every inch gained. Their differences are all the more stark, as a consequence of different upbringings, culture, but also sheer dumb marital luck - or misfortune.
In pairing the two empresses together, Goldstone is also comparing the Old World vs. the New World. The 19th century saw a major push towards modernity for a myriad of reasons, and in this book, for the domino effect of political upheaval and calls for democracy or instating constitutional monarchy. France (Eugenie's home country) embraced change, while Austria (Elisabeth's home country) resisted it. The push and pull between liberal and traditional way of living is applied not just between kings and their subjects, but between husbands and wives. Reading the triumphs and struggles of the two countries, their queens and their husbands, I really feel for both women. They did the best they could, and managed to live on their own terms.
As an American, I'm intimidated by European history because it covers a lot of time and ground, and somehow all monarchs share the same 10 names. But Goldstone deftly weaves between two separate timelines and courts, and people, and the countless wars and revolutions across many nations, so I wasn't confused at all. It wasn't all facts and figures, which would've been overwhelming. Instead, it was like reading a gossip mag (much better written, of course) because Goldstone paints so clearly the different personalities, their motivations, the juicy, scandalous tidbits of side characters.
On a personal note, I found Eugenie's sections to be more interesting, since she had the benefit of being older, wiser, more independent in her adult life, so she was more of a mover and shaker in the political realm, whereas Elisabeth's sections were more of the struggles she dealt with in her personal life (Franz Joseph...if I speak, I am in big trouble). Nonetheless, Goldstone did a good job or showcasing them equally.
Overall, a 6/5 star book. I am eager to read more of Nancy Goldstone's books!
Thanks to Netgalley and Little, Brown and Company for an ARC of this book.
August 28, 2025
I picked up a copy of Nancy Goldstone’s The Rebel Empresses: Elisabeth of Austria and Eugenie of France, Power and Glamour in the Struggle for Europe after seeing rave reviews by my GR pal and fellow history enthusiast Brendan, given I’ve enjoyed many of the same books as him in the past.
Although early to mid 19th century books on sovereigns isn’t usually my go-to genre, I couldn’t help but be fascinated by so much of the forgotten history and the vital roles these two influential, rebellious women played in shaping so much important historical events: Empress Elisabeth (“Sisi”), married to Emperor Franz Joseph of Austria, and Empress Eugénie, married to Napoleon III of France.
The book alternates seamlessly between the two women, with a chapter on each woman’s public or private life during roughly the same periods, building up to the same events. It was as much a study in contrasts as it was similarities.
Elisabeth had been a tomboy who never wanted the stuffy life of a royal and wasn’t fully aware of the role she’d be expected to play upon becoming Franz Joseph’s wife. In fact, it was her older sister, Helene, who had been trained in all the proper court etiquette who had been meant to marry Franz. Only… he judged her as too stiff, whereas his adoration for Elisabeth could not be contained.
As he remarked about her:
”Oh, but how sweet Sisi is, she’s as fresh as a budding almond, and what a magnificent crown of hair frames her face! … Sisi -such loveliness, such exuberance, like a little girl’s and yet so sweet!”
The feeling was mutual for the young, dreamy Sisi: ”How could one not love that man?!”, she had remarked, when her mother asked whether she could love her imperial suitor. Tellingly, she was also heard to exclaim, ”I love the Emperor so much! If only he weren’t an Emperor!”
Eugénie, by contrast, didn’t end up marrying Napoleon III until her late 20s (practically an old shrew in those times!). She was much more cunning and knew precisely how to take his attention off all the other women competing for his affections at court, and have him focus entirely on her. She desired the position of Empress, and unlike Elisabeth, was raised much more to believe that marrying up into royalty was something expected of her.
While there was no doubt that the men loved their wives and vice-versa, Eugénie, being significantly older than Elisabeth at the time of her marriage, had a very different role to play by her husband’s side than that of poor Elisabeth. For Eugénie was far more headstrong, and demanded that she be treated with respect.
After entrusting Eugénie more and more with government and military decisions, Napoleon III would appoint her his regent-in-waiting, to be responsible for day-to-day administration of the regime, manage diplomatic relations during the impending crisis, and stay alert to public opinion.
She was an astute reader and thoroughly devoted herself to an intimate understanding of the issues her country was facing. To most of the court, she proved herself worthy of Napoleon’s trust (although of course, being a woman, and having many men who were envious of her in the position they wanted, did not react quite as favorably to her rule).
Elisabeth, on the other hand, seemed to be undermined by her mother-in-law, Archduchess Sophia, the moment she stepped inside the palace a married woman. Sophia was critical of everything about the young bride, and often scoffed at her lack of court etiquette or what she believed to be her inadequate foreign language skills.
Not only was there never a chance Sisi would ever influence her husband in his role as Emperor, she couldn’t even persuade him to take her side in personal matters between the two: for instance, if she wanted to get away from the palace and vacation somewhere with Franz Joseph alone, her mother-in-law would always object, and Sisi would be forced to plead with Franz to overrule her and listen to his wife.
Of course, he was all too happy to do this when it would result in a happy and affectionate Sisi, who would show her gratitude toward Franz Joseph in intimate ways during their romantic getaways. Unfortunately, once she gave birth to their children, her mother-in-law took them away from her, out of her rooms and permanently settled them in with the Archduchess instead.
Yet no matter how painful this was for Sisi to be so close to her children, and yet so far away (it was said she saw them so rarely that they didn’t recognize her as their mother, instead, affording Sophia that role). Of course, there are two sides to every story, and while Goldstone argues for Sisi, many of her contemporaries judged Sisi to be the one not making an effort with her mother-in-law, and being overly critical of her and stand-offish.
The women actually met up later in life after they’d both become widows, but as older women, they’d retained much of the same confidence (Eugénie) or in Sisi’s case, insecurity - that they’d possessed upon initially taking on their royal duties.
Sisi remained incredibly insecure over her looks, and so paranoid about aging that she refused to be photographed after the age of 50 - wearing a dark black veil to cover her face when she knew members of the public were liable to see her. It’s no wonder, giving the absolute infatuation the Austrian public (and much of Europe) had with her good looks - her good, youthful looks.
One thing that really drove me berserk about the book and a reason I can’t give it the full five stars (along with some other minor issues) was the author’s very inappropriate “citations”, if that’s what you’d call them. Asides? Either way, she’s using what’s only supposed to be used in a way to verify important sources, just for snide commentary.
For example?
*”You know you’ve reached a new low when the tsar of Russia thinks you’re barbaric.”
Perhaps the worst, when commenting on 23 year old Franz Joseph’s remarks on first seeing 16 year old Sisi:
*”Lucky they left eleven-year-old Marie at home! Think how fresh and sweet she’d have looked.”
Yes, essentially calling the 23 year old Franz Joseph a pedophile, when Sisi also had a crush on him as well, he still looked very boyish - and, well, it was 1853!!! - is completely unnecessary and flat out weird. It’s not as though he was 50 and she was his ten-year-old child bride. It’s just so unprofessional for an author of her caliber to write such petty asides. Oh, and there’s more!
*”This leniency was arranged by Louis Napoleon‘s mother, who succeeded in obtaining a personal audience with the king, where she eloquently pleaded her son’s case. Hortense was also responsible for having earlier saved her son‘s life when he got mixed up in a rebellion in Italy and couldn’t get away because he had caught the measles. That time, Hortense swooped in and rescued him by disguising him as one of her servants, and then hiding him in a daring carriage escape. She is the one who should have been emperor, if you ask me.”
Well… except no one did ask you, did they? Look, I’m all for powerful female leaders, but we don’t need to so blatantly champion our beliefs in what should be a section for further scholarly information.
When talking about Franz Joseph and the rare occasions he listened to his wife over his mother, and the entire paragraph mentions how Sisi had lost most of her adolescent features, at last growing into her looks with her “sublime auburn tresses, which when loose flowed in cascades to below her waist, were a marvel.”
*”You begin to get a sense of why Franz Joseph was starting to listen to her, and not his mother.”
I don’t know, but I really can’t articulate how much this bothers me. Enough people don’t read the cited paragraphs when they really should, the last thing a historian needs to be doing is putting asinine little comments like these in there to make this problem of people ignoring the cited sections even worse.
Another time, when talking about Sisi’s growing obsession with aging and desperate attempts to stay looking young, she mentions something like, “Oh, how Sisi would have loved plastic surgery, had it only been around earlier!”
Overall, great book, and I’ll definitely be reading some of her other books. Hopefully in those, she has the willpower to leave the stupid comments out, as well as in any future works she authors. It’s a really bad look for an otherwise really great author.
Although early to mid 19th century books on sovereigns isn’t usually my go-to genre, I couldn’t help but be fascinated by so much of the forgotten history and the vital roles these two influential, rebellious women played in shaping so much important historical events: Empress Elisabeth (“Sisi”), married to Emperor Franz Joseph of Austria, and Empress Eugénie, married to Napoleon III of France.
The book alternates seamlessly between the two women, with a chapter on each woman’s public or private life during roughly the same periods, building up to the same events. It was as much a study in contrasts as it was similarities.
Elisabeth had been a tomboy who never wanted the stuffy life of a royal and wasn’t fully aware of the role she’d be expected to play upon becoming Franz Joseph’s wife. In fact, it was her older sister, Helene, who had been trained in all the proper court etiquette who had been meant to marry Franz. Only… he judged her as too stiff, whereas his adoration for Elisabeth could not be contained.
As he remarked about her:
”Oh, but how sweet Sisi is, she’s as fresh as a budding almond, and what a magnificent crown of hair frames her face! … Sisi -such loveliness, such exuberance, like a little girl’s and yet so sweet!”
The feeling was mutual for the young, dreamy Sisi: ”How could one not love that man?!”, she had remarked, when her mother asked whether she could love her imperial suitor. Tellingly, she was also heard to exclaim, ”I love the Emperor so much! If only he weren’t an Emperor!”
Eugénie, by contrast, didn’t end up marrying Napoleon III until her late 20s (practically an old shrew in those times!). She was much more cunning and knew precisely how to take his attention off all the other women competing for his affections at court, and have him focus entirely on her. She desired the position of Empress, and unlike Elisabeth, was raised much more to believe that marrying up into royalty was something expected of her.
While there was no doubt that the men loved their wives and vice-versa, Eugénie, being significantly older than Elisabeth at the time of her marriage, had a very different role to play by her husband’s side than that of poor Elisabeth. For Eugénie was far more headstrong, and demanded that she be treated with respect.
After entrusting Eugénie more and more with government and military decisions, Napoleon III would appoint her his regent-in-waiting, to be responsible for day-to-day administration of the regime, manage diplomatic relations during the impending crisis, and stay alert to public opinion.
She was an astute reader and thoroughly devoted herself to an intimate understanding of the issues her country was facing. To most of the court, she proved herself worthy of Napoleon’s trust (although of course, being a woman, and having many men who were envious of her in the position they wanted, did not react quite as favorably to her rule).
Elisabeth, on the other hand, seemed to be undermined by her mother-in-law, Archduchess Sophia, the moment she stepped inside the palace a married woman. Sophia was critical of everything about the young bride, and often scoffed at her lack of court etiquette or what she believed to be her inadequate foreign language skills.
Not only was there never a chance Sisi would ever influence her husband in his role as Emperor, she couldn’t even persuade him to take her side in personal matters between the two: for instance, if she wanted to get away from the palace and vacation somewhere with Franz Joseph alone, her mother-in-law would always object, and Sisi would be forced to plead with Franz to overrule her and listen to his wife.
Of course, he was all too happy to do this when it would result in a happy and affectionate Sisi, who would show her gratitude toward Franz Joseph in intimate ways during their romantic getaways. Unfortunately, once she gave birth to their children, her mother-in-law took them away from her, out of her rooms and permanently settled them in with the Archduchess instead.
Yet no matter how painful this was for Sisi to be so close to her children, and yet so far away (it was said she saw them so rarely that they didn’t recognize her as their mother, instead, affording Sophia that role). Of course, there are two sides to every story, and while Goldstone argues for Sisi, many of her contemporaries judged Sisi to be the one not making an effort with her mother-in-law, and being overly critical of her and stand-offish.
The women actually met up later in life after they’d both become widows, but as older women, they’d retained much of the same confidence (Eugénie) or in Sisi’s case, insecurity - that they’d possessed upon initially taking on their royal duties.
Sisi remained incredibly insecure over her looks, and so paranoid about aging that she refused to be photographed after the age of 50 - wearing a dark black veil to cover her face when she knew members of the public were liable to see her. It’s no wonder, giving the absolute infatuation the Austrian public (and much of Europe) had with her good looks - her good, youthful looks.
One thing that really drove me berserk about the book and a reason I can’t give it the full five stars (along with some other minor issues) was the author’s very inappropriate “citations”, if that’s what you’d call them. Asides? Either way, she’s using what’s only supposed to be used in a way to verify important sources, just for snide commentary.
For example?
*”You know you’ve reached a new low when the tsar of Russia thinks you’re barbaric.”
Perhaps the worst, when commenting on 23 year old Franz Joseph’s remarks on first seeing 16 year old Sisi:
*”Lucky they left eleven-year-old Marie at home! Think how fresh and sweet she’d have looked.”
Yes, essentially calling the 23 year old Franz Joseph a pedophile, when Sisi also had a crush on him as well, he still looked very boyish - and, well, it was 1853!!! - is completely unnecessary and flat out weird. It’s not as though he was 50 and she was his ten-year-old child bride. It’s just so unprofessional for an author of her caliber to write such petty asides. Oh, and there’s more!
*”This leniency was arranged by Louis Napoleon‘s mother, who succeeded in obtaining a personal audience with the king, where she eloquently pleaded her son’s case. Hortense was also responsible for having earlier saved her son‘s life when he got mixed up in a rebellion in Italy and couldn’t get away because he had caught the measles. That time, Hortense swooped in and rescued him by disguising him as one of her servants, and then hiding him in a daring carriage escape. She is the one who should have been emperor, if you ask me.”
Well… except no one did ask you, did they? Look, I’m all for powerful female leaders, but we don’t need to so blatantly champion our beliefs in what should be a section for further scholarly information.
When talking about Franz Joseph and the rare occasions he listened to his wife over his mother, and the entire paragraph mentions how Sisi had lost most of her adolescent features, at last growing into her looks with her “sublime auburn tresses, which when loose flowed in cascades to below her waist, were a marvel.”
*”You begin to get a sense of why Franz Joseph was starting to listen to her, and not his mother.”
I don’t know, but I really can’t articulate how much this bothers me. Enough people don’t read the cited paragraphs when they really should, the last thing a historian needs to be doing is putting asinine little comments like these in there to make this problem of people ignoring the cited sections even worse.
Another time, when talking about Sisi’s growing obsession with aging and desperate attempts to stay looking young, she mentions something like, “Oh, how Sisi would have loved plastic surgery, had it only been around earlier!”
Overall, great book, and I’ll definitely be reading some of her other books. Hopefully in those, she has the willpower to leave the stupid comments out, as well as in any future works she authors. It’s a really bad look for an otherwise really great author.
June 14, 2025
This was interesting and light.
I quite enjoyed it.
Goldstone is a quite good writer but her research is often inaccurate.
As I'm familiar with Empress Sisi, I will say while I enjoyed the picture this author drew of her, it deeply clashes with the biographies I've read on her. The Reluctant Empress by Brigitte Hamann is the best known biography of Sisi.
I don't know much about Empress Eugenie. I found a biography on her by Desmond Seward but he struggles to include history that doesn't support his sexist viewpoints. The Last Empress of France by Petie Kladstrup looks promising.
Further studies will make clear the accuracy of the research in this biography.
I quite enjoyed it.
Goldstone is a quite good writer but her research is often inaccurate.
As I'm familiar with Empress Sisi, I will say while I enjoyed the picture this author drew of her, it deeply clashes with the biographies I've read on her. The Reluctant Empress by Brigitte Hamann is the best known biography of Sisi.
I don't know much about Empress Eugenie. I found a biography on her by Desmond Seward but he struggles to include history that doesn't support his sexist viewpoints. The Last Empress of France by Petie Kladstrup looks promising.
Further studies will make clear the accuracy of the research in this biography.
May 19, 2025
My May audiobook and I was obsessed! This is a duel biography of Empresses Eugenie and Sisi. I learned so much about their lives but also what was happening in France and Austria in the 1800s. Highly recommend!
February 22, 2025
While Victoria of Great Britain is the most well-known of the empresses who reigned in Europe in the 19th century, she is by no means the only one. While Eugenie of France and Elizabeth of Austria-Hungary did not rule in their own right, they left their own marks on the lands and people over which they reigned too.
I read omnivorously, but sometimes one wants to come back to the basics, and for me books about royalty count among the basics. I'm quite familiar with the glamorously tragic Empress Sisi, but less with Empress Eugenie, so I was pretty excited to explore both of their lives in the broader context of 19th century continental Europe.
Goldstone's writing is a smooth read, informative but amusing arch, and she has a knack for characterizing the multitude of personages peopling Eugenie and Sisi's lives with all their different foibles and ambitions. She switches neatly between the two women's stories, bringing out the similarities in their stories as well as how differently they often reacted to similar circumstances. I especially enjoyed learning about how both women cultivated and employed soft power to forward their goals, sometimes successfully and sometimes to no avail. This is a real doorstopper at 640 pages, but I found myself flying through without hardly noticing it.
I found myself less interested in the sections of the book dealing with the many military campaigns their husbands fought though, especially when Eugenie and Sisi didn't have much to do with it. The flimsy pretexts for some of these battles really boggle the mind though, as well as the complete hash of the plan to conquer Mexico which I intend to read more about in the future. I did also wish we didn't fast forward through the remainder of Eugenie's life after the death of Sisi - even in exile I'm sure there was plenty more she was up to.
Disclaimer: I received an ARC of this book from NetGalley. This is my honest and voluntary review.
I read omnivorously, but sometimes one wants to come back to the basics, and for me books about royalty count among the basics. I'm quite familiar with the glamorously tragic Empress Sisi, but less with Empress Eugenie, so I was pretty excited to explore both of their lives in the broader context of 19th century continental Europe.
Goldstone's writing is a smooth read, informative but amusing arch, and she has a knack for characterizing the multitude of personages peopling Eugenie and Sisi's lives with all their different foibles and ambitions. She switches neatly between the two women's stories, bringing out the similarities in their stories as well as how differently they often reacted to similar circumstances. I especially enjoyed learning about how both women cultivated and employed soft power to forward their goals, sometimes successfully and sometimes to no avail. This is a real doorstopper at 640 pages, but I found myself flying through without hardly noticing it.
I found myself less interested in the sections of the book dealing with the many military campaigns their husbands fought though, especially when Eugenie and Sisi didn't have much to do with it. The flimsy pretexts for some of these battles really boggle the mind though, as well as the complete hash of the plan to conquer Mexico which I intend to read more about in the future. I did also wish we didn't fast forward through the remainder of Eugenie's life after the death of Sisi - even in exile I'm sure there was plenty more she was up to.
Disclaimer: I received an ARC of this book from NetGalley. This is my honest and voluntary review.
October 31, 2025
Nancy Goldstone brings the lives of two of the most glamorous and fascinating women of nineteenth century Europe to life. Set against the backdrop of the momentous events of the time - the decline of the aging Hapsburg Empire, the rule of Napoleon III of France, the unifications of Italy and Germany, the rise of Prussian militarism under Bismarck, the Franco Prussian War, and more - these two women navigate the turbulence with wisdom and strength as they lead remarkably parallel lives. I've always been fascinated by Empress Elizabeth of Austria , generally known as Sisi. My interest is probably fueled by the incomparable film starring Romy Schneider, but Goldstone's book gave me a window on Sisi's contemporary, Eugenie of France. Both women exerted considerable influence over their respective husbands. Goldstone's writing is lively and touched with humor.
May 21, 2025
Giving Nancy Goldstone another crack when I so disliked the last time I read through her books was perhaps a mistake, but I needed something that was slightly mindless to read, and so I settled on this. This book was not nearly as irritating at the Rival Queens, but maybe that's only because my expectations were much lower this time around.
I'll start with saying that I think that this topic is a really interesting one - choosing to dual biography on Sisi and Eugenie was genuinely inspired. Goldstone is always good at choosing what she focuses on, even if the execution is truly flawed. I'm hoping that this will revive interest in Sisi as a historical figure, and not just an aesthetic figure. And, of course, Eugenie never gets her flowers enough. That being said, I was surprised that Goldstone didn't choose to dual biography on Eugenie and Empress Charlotte of Mexico. Not only because their lives were much more intertwined than those of Sisi and Eugenie, but because thematically they're very closely connected. Especially towards the back half when Eugnie's chapters became much more Mexico focused.
But that's not what really grinds my gears about Goldstone's work. The most egregious part is deginitely the little asides she gives via asterisk. Not only because they're often snide comments which makes the reader feel like Goldstone looks down on all the people she's writing about (the comment that it was a good thing Sisi's younger sister wasn't there because Franz Joseph would have gone after an eleven year old comes to mind), but because at times she puts things in the aside that should absolutely have been integrated into the main body of the text. Take the aside about the Regent's Diamond. That should have been in the text. A call back to that information about its cursed nature was literally the final sentence of the book. How did no editor catch this? People don't read footnotes or asides - it sucks as a history student, but it's true. That needed to be integrated. And then of course, there's the part where Goldstone makes a bold claim about drawing some connection in the aside then refuses to elaborate. Poor history indeed.
Also the last thing I'll say is that Goldstone really is just doing a summary. And in depth and readable summary, but a summary. There's so much you could say on Sisi. On the image of her, on the way that it made her deeply unhappy. On the way that she attempted to be a political player and how she was only successful later in life. You could talk more in depth about the Mayerling Affair, about Hungary, about nihilist rhetoric. And to give Goldstone her due, she does talk about this. In an extremely glossed over manner. This is the point of history! Why put this aside for talking about how Archduchess Sophie was ontologically evil (and refusing to go more in depth besides saying that she was lying in her letters)? It's frustrating. Similar things happening with Eugenie, in fact, I think Eugenie's treatment was even more superficial.
In the end this biography is really harmless. But history should be more than that. So I continue to wait for a good biography - though perhaps that will never happen.
I'll start with saying that I think that this topic is a really interesting one - choosing to dual biography on Sisi and Eugenie was genuinely inspired. Goldstone is always good at choosing what she focuses on, even if the execution is truly flawed. I'm hoping that this will revive interest in Sisi as a historical figure, and not just an aesthetic figure. And, of course, Eugenie never gets her flowers enough. That being said, I was surprised that Goldstone didn't choose to dual biography on Eugenie and Empress Charlotte of Mexico. Not only because their lives were much more intertwined than those of Sisi and Eugenie, but because thematically they're very closely connected. Especially towards the back half when Eugnie's chapters became much more Mexico focused.
But that's not what really grinds my gears about Goldstone's work. The most egregious part is deginitely the little asides she gives via asterisk. Not only because they're often snide comments which makes the reader feel like Goldstone looks down on all the people she's writing about (the comment that it was a good thing Sisi's younger sister wasn't there because Franz Joseph would have gone after an eleven year old comes to mind), but because at times she puts things in the aside that should absolutely have been integrated into the main body of the text. Take the aside about the Regent's Diamond. That should have been in the text. A call back to that information about its cursed nature was literally the final sentence of the book. How did no editor catch this? People don't read footnotes or asides - it sucks as a history student, but it's true. That needed to be integrated. And then of course, there's the part where Goldstone makes a bold claim about drawing some connection in the aside then refuses to elaborate. Poor history indeed.
Also the last thing I'll say is that Goldstone really is just doing a summary. And in depth and readable summary, but a summary. There's so much you could say on Sisi. On the image of her, on the way that it made her deeply unhappy. On the way that she attempted to be a political player and how she was only successful later in life. You could talk more in depth about the Mayerling Affair, about Hungary, about nihilist rhetoric. And to give Goldstone her due, she does talk about this. In an extremely glossed over manner. This is the point of history! Why put this aside for talking about how Archduchess Sophie was ontologically evil (and refusing to go more in depth besides saying that she was lying in her letters)? It's frustrating. Similar things happening with Eugenie, in fact, I think Eugenie's treatment was even more superficial.
In the end this biography is really harmless. But history should be more than that. So I continue to wait for a good biography - though perhaps that will never happen.
July 28, 2025
I just finished an AMAZING book. The Rebel Empresses: Elisabeth of Austria and Eugénie of France, Power and Glamour in the Struggle for Europe by Nancy Goldstone is not just a brilliant dual biography—it’s a dazzling parade through 19th-century Europe’s most compelling characters and seismic events.
Goldstone doesn’t merely tell the story of two remarkable women; she masterfully places them within a vivid political and cultural landscape that includes the likes of Otto von Bismarck, Queen Victoria, Ludwig II, Napoleon III, Franz Joseph, Leopold II, Tsar Alexander, Wilhelm I, and many more. I couldn’t get enough!
As someone whose knowledge of late 19th-century European history tends to orbit Queen Victoria—and with most of my historical bandwidth taken up by the American Civil War—this book was a revelation.
What truly sets The Rebel Empresses apart is its tone and pace. This is non-fiction that reads like a lush, gripping novel, bursting with sex, war, power plays, tragedy, and the occasional triumph. Goldstone writes with such immediacy and insight that you feel as though you’re living the heartbreaks and intrigues right alongside Elisabeth and Eugénie.
And speaking of heartbreak—this book chronicles perhaps the worst mother-in-law/daughter-in-law dynamic in history. If you’ve ever thought your in-laws were a challenge, wait until you read what these women endured. 😳
Despite all the isolation and cruelty these two Empresses faced, it was moving to read about the rare kindnesses—particularly Queen Victoria’s warmth and support toward both Elisabeth and Eugénie. It’s refreshing to see real historical examples of women lifting each other up in a world that so often sought to diminish them.
Goldstone also captures the tragic paradox of royal marriage: alliances born not of love, but of diplomacy. Though Elisabeth and Franz Joseph’s union began in love, the weight of monarchy quickly turned their lives into gilded cages. Both Elisabeth and Eugénie were modern women born in a time that punished independence. Their free spirits, longing for adventure, art, and escape, were constantly at odds with the stiff protocols of court life.
One of the most unexpectedly poignant moments was reading Empress Eugénie’s letter to Mary Todd Lincoln after President Lincoln’s assassination. That intimate letter was so heartfelt and wise, it could only have been penned by someone who themself had survived unbearable personal loss.
And for my fellow North Country Alsacians—yes, Alsace and Lorraine get their due here!
In short: read this book. You won’t be disappointed. The Rebel Empresses is a captivating, deeply human history of two brilliant women and the turbulent world they were thrust into. Goldstone has done them justice—and then some.
Goldstone doesn’t merely tell the story of two remarkable women; she masterfully places them within a vivid political and cultural landscape that includes the likes of Otto von Bismarck, Queen Victoria, Ludwig II, Napoleon III, Franz Joseph, Leopold II, Tsar Alexander, Wilhelm I, and many more. I couldn’t get enough!
As someone whose knowledge of late 19th-century European history tends to orbit Queen Victoria—and with most of my historical bandwidth taken up by the American Civil War—this book was a revelation.
What truly sets The Rebel Empresses apart is its tone and pace. This is non-fiction that reads like a lush, gripping novel, bursting with sex, war, power plays, tragedy, and the occasional triumph. Goldstone writes with such immediacy and insight that you feel as though you’re living the heartbreaks and intrigues right alongside Elisabeth and Eugénie.
And speaking of heartbreak—this book chronicles perhaps the worst mother-in-law/daughter-in-law dynamic in history. If you’ve ever thought your in-laws were a challenge, wait until you read what these women endured. 😳
Despite all the isolation and cruelty these two Empresses faced, it was moving to read about the rare kindnesses—particularly Queen Victoria’s warmth and support toward both Elisabeth and Eugénie. It’s refreshing to see real historical examples of women lifting each other up in a world that so often sought to diminish them.
Goldstone also captures the tragic paradox of royal marriage: alliances born not of love, but of diplomacy. Though Elisabeth and Franz Joseph’s union began in love, the weight of monarchy quickly turned their lives into gilded cages. Both Elisabeth and Eugénie were modern women born in a time that punished independence. Their free spirits, longing for adventure, art, and escape, were constantly at odds with the stiff protocols of court life.
One of the most unexpectedly poignant moments was reading Empress Eugénie’s letter to Mary Todd Lincoln after President Lincoln’s assassination. That intimate letter was so heartfelt and wise, it could only have been penned by someone who themself had survived unbearable personal loss.
And for my fellow North Country Alsacians—yes, Alsace and Lorraine get their due here!
In short: read this book. You won’t be disappointed. The Rebel Empresses is a captivating, deeply human history of two brilliant women and the turbulent world they were thrust into. Goldstone has done them justice—and then some.
April 10, 2025
This is another triumph of historical writing from Nancy Goldstone. It is a double biography of the Empresses of Austria (Elisabeth) and of France (Eugénie), who, during their lives, were widely considered the pinnacles of European beauty and fashion. The portraits that emerge from the author's extensive research into primary and secondary resources are of two fascinating, strong, and ultimately, admirable, women who took their roles seriously, albeit in entirely different directions: Eugénie plunging into the politics of France, Elisabeth ('Sisi') fighting to forge her own way through a life-path that she did not really want or enjoy. Eugénie's role in the Maximilian/Charlotte tragedy in Mexico and Sisi's turn from her other children (especially her son Rudolf, so like her emotionally) upon the birth of her youngest daughter Marie Valerie are the major blots on the ladies' respective escutcheons. Even in these, there are mitigating circumstances -- especially in Elisabeth's case, saddled as she was with a virago/harridan as a mother-in-law and a husband who, especially in the crucial early years of the teenaged empress, sided against her. (Yet, she ought to have paid closer attention to Rudolf toward the end of his life; whether this would have averted the tragedy at Mayerling is, of course -- and always will remain -- uncertain. Eugénie, on the other hand, admitted her responsibility for the imperial folly of Mexico.) Both women, despite their positions of privilege, demonstrated laudable concern for the poor, downtrodden, and marginalized within their realms; in Sisi's case, her political involvements led to a resurgence of Habsburg popularity in Hungary. Eugénie seems an especially heroic figure to this reader, at least, and I am grateful to have made her closer acquaintance. -- The writing, as usual, is spritely, almost novelistic in its flow, leavened with bits of humor and wit, with the occasional arch aside thrown in for good measure. -- Very highly recommended for its vivid depiction of the major events of the 19th century and splendidly vivid portrayals of the central figures in the drama. (Boo-hiss, Otto Bismarck! Bravo, Dr. Thomas W. Evans!*)
*From Philadelphia, incidentally... He was Eugénie's dentist...and, as per author Goldstone, worthy of a biography all his own!
*From Philadelphia, incidentally... He was Eugénie's dentist...and, as per author Goldstone, worthy of a biography all his own!
May 11, 2025
This is a stunning history of two strong [and strong-willed ] women, who not only lived their lives in the public eye [and under the public's vicious tongue-wagging ], raised their children in a perilous time [and in Sisi's case, raising her children was nearly impossible at first and that part of the story incensed me - how she remained sane is beyond me ], they also helped their husband rule, often taking full control themselves when the Emperor's were at war [and in Sisi's case, she was instrumental in the joining of Austria and Hungary together as one country. She learned Hungarian, spent time with the people and truly became one of them. They loved her ]. They truly were the epitome of the woman who could do almost anything.
Brilliantly researched, expertly written [with straight-forward dialogue that doesn't get bogged down by a ton of extraneous detail that often plagues historical biographies ], this dual time-line [given that they lived in the same time-frame, this narrative makes perfect sense and actually really adds to the overall book ] book flows so well that I was never confused, which was glorious [I did sometimes get the Emperor's names mixed up, but in 610 page book, that is just so minor! ;-) ], and really was an amazing read about a piece of history I knew absolutely nothing about. It was a complete joy to listen to [I HIGHLY recommend the narrator for this book ] and I am so glad I had the opportunity to experience it.
Thank you to NetGalley, Nancy Goldstone, and Little, Brown, and Company for providing this ARC in exchange for an honest review.
Brilliantly researched, expertly written [with straight-forward dialogue that doesn't get bogged down by a ton of extraneous detail that often plagues historical biographies ], this dual time-line [given that they lived in the same time-frame, this narrative makes perfect sense and actually really adds to the overall book ] book flows so well that I was never confused, which was glorious [I did sometimes get the Emperor's names mixed up, but in 610 page book, that is just so minor! ;-) ], and really was an amazing read about a piece of history I knew absolutely nothing about. It was a complete joy to listen to [I HIGHLY recommend the narrator for this book ] and I am so glad I had the opportunity to experience it.
Thank you to NetGalley, Nancy Goldstone, and Little, Brown, and Company for providing this ARC in exchange for an honest review.
February 28, 2025
Absolutely awesome! A lot of history is covered here but with clarity and humor. The two stories of Empress Eugenie and Empress Elisabeth are put in context with European history, social movements, and war.
What is the main takeaway from this book? It was all about the women! While Eugenie and Elisabeth were empresses, other powerful albeit less visible women were running the show, moving their daughters across the chessboard of Europe, influencing politics and policy. Archduchess Sophie was the real power behind the Austrian throne and Princess Ludovika maneuvered to put her daughters on thrones across Europe.
So much of the politics covered in this book mirrors exactly what is going on today in America and other countries: the bludgeoning of democracy in favor of a strongman, the fight for reform and the brutal repression against it, and the consequences for the oppressors. The more things change, the more things stay the same.
Thank you Jesse Bartel for the complimentary copy!
What is the main takeaway from this book? It was all about the women! While Eugenie and Elisabeth were empresses, other powerful albeit less visible women were running the show, moving their daughters across the chessboard of Europe, influencing politics and policy. Archduchess Sophie was the real power behind the Austrian throne and Princess Ludovika maneuvered to put her daughters on thrones across Europe.
So much of the politics covered in this book mirrors exactly what is going on today in America and other countries: the bludgeoning of democracy in favor of a strongman, the fight for reform and the brutal repression against it, and the consequences for the oppressors. The more things change, the more things stay the same.
Thank you Jesse Bartel for the complimentary copy!
March 17, 2025
A dramatic and well written dual biography of Empress Elisabeth of Austria and Empress Eugenie of France, two of the most glamourous women of the 19th century. Goldstone places the two Empresses in the political context of their times, revealing them to be multifaceted figures who exercised diplomatic influence in Europe in addition to being leaders of fashion. Goldstone discusses both Empresses sympathetically but fairly and there is a poignant last meeting between them in the south of France where the two Empresses consoled each other after losing their respective sons. Goldstone also highlights the experiences of other European royal consorts of the era including Empress Carlota of Mexico and Elisabeth's sister Queen Marie of the Two Sicilies. Highly recommended.
July 9, 2025
What a ride!
The dual stories of Empress Elisabeth (Sisi) of Austria and Empress Eugenie of France - their lives, marriages, children, family struggles, and then world events! It was a lot…which 558 pages of text and a few images conveys.
Thanks to The History Chicks podcast, I had to pick up this book when I saw the subjects of this book. While the book isn’t nearly as conversational as the podcast, this read more like a novel than most history books. I was able to more easily understand the timeline of European events and who the power players were in the late 1800s in Europe (and Mexico).
The dual stories of Empress Elisabeth (Sisi) of Austria and Empress Eugenie of France - their lives, marriages, children, family struggles, and then world events! It was a lot…which 558 pages of text and a few images conveys.
Thanks to The History Chicks podcast, I had to pick up this book when I saw the subjects of this book. While the book isn’t nearly as conversational as the podcast, this read more like a novel than most history books. I was able to more easily understand the timeline of European events and who the power players were in the late 1800s in Europe (and Mexico).
October 6, 2025
Lowkey an unlikely binge read. The split biography style worked so well and the writing was really neat and engaging. I initially came for Sisi (insane that her entire life trajectory was altered because the wrong man fell in love with her at 15), but Eugenie's parts were just as great. A lot of the era's political intrigue, industrialization, and general tragedy made for a fun, casual read. I ate all of it up till the end and cheered when it got to the infamous Mayerling incident in the second to last chapter.
April 22, 2025
Fantastic work: an original look at often-forgotten figures who prove to be more interesting than their more famous husbands. This work definitely sheds new light on 19th century European politics and social mores, and is an excellent read to boot.
December 12, 2025
It felt more like a novel than a historical account. The author brings each empress to life, the book unfolds like a series of thrilling stories full of political intrigue, personal struggle, and bold acts of defiance. I’ve been thinking of these women nonstop since I finished.
May 5, 2025
NB: the narrative concluded on pp. 557; remainder was notes, etc.
Another excellent work by Goldstone! I really enjoyed this one. I've been wanting to read more about Empress Elisabeth ("Sisi") for a while now, and this book scratched that itch. I was only peripherally aware of Empress Eugenie, but I think contrasting their lives in this book really worked well. Goldstone gave us both the larger context and the more intimate, personal side of events in both women's lives, and it was a fascinating and enjoyable read. I also really appreciated the parallels with modern life that Goldstone included; there are a few passages in the first couple of chapters that really resonated with me (largely having to do with being fed the fuck up with autocrats).
A delight! Highly recommended for anyone interested in 19th century history and/or biographies of remarkable women.
Another excellent work by Goldstone! I really enjoyed this one. I've been wanting to read more about Empress Elisabeth ("Sisi") for a while now, and this book scratched that itch. I was only peripherally aware of Empress Eugenie, but I think contrasting their lives in this book really worked well. Goldstone gave us both the larger context and the more intimate, personal side of events in both women's lives, and it was a fascinating and enjoyable read. I also really appreciated the parallels with modern life that Goldstone included; there are a few passages in the first couple of chapters that really resonated with me (largely having to do with being fed the fuck up with autocrats).
A delight! Highly recommended for anyone interested in 19th century history and/or biographies of remarkable women.
October 29, 2025
terribly sympathetic but solid and interesting
January 1, 2025
I read this book in fits and starts of either 10 pages or 100 pages at a time. Quite well researched and written which made reading about both Eugenie’s and Sisi’s lives always engaging, interesting, and enjoyable.
I knew more about other European monarchies but not of these two, their deep impact on culture, fashion, and attempts to improve the conditions for their people.
Earc provided by publisher for an honest review.
I knew more about other European monarchies but not of these two, their deep impact on culture, fashion, and attempts to improve the conditions for their people.
Earc provided by publisher for an honest review.
August 11, 2025
Probably my favourite history writer of the moment! Always so well done and such fascinating subjects too.
May 4, 2025
(In case you are new to the lives of Elisabeth and/or Eugénie, this review does contain some "spoilers")
When "The Rebel Empresses" was announced last year, I was immediately intrigued as, outside of Austria (and other Germanic areas), Empress Elisabeth is really not as well-known as her contemporaries, such as Queen Victoria, and Empress Eugénie feels almost entirely forgotten to me, even in modern France.
If one were to visit Vienna today, you would see Elisabeth's face everywhere, but if one were to visit Paris today, you would have a hard time finding mention of Eugénie anywhere, save for at Fontainebleau.
I grew up on "The Royal Diaries" and first discovered Elisabeth via her entry in that series, and I discovered Eugénie not long after, most likely due to her dedication to the memory of Marie-Antoinette through reimagining her style of dress, decor, Fontainebleau, etc., all of which can usually be found in the afterword to various Marie-Antoinette biographies.
Yet, in the two decades since I first discovered and became thoroughly interested in both of these remarkable women, there has been little English-language media produced about either of them, and, most pointedly, no biographies or other non-fiction works.
There has been a resurgence of interest in Elisabeth in the last few years, with several films, television series, and historical fiction novels being released, but there has not been a non-fiction work about Elisabeth published in several decades. The treatment for Eugénie is even worse, as she has not benefitted from the publication or release of any books, movies, novels, series, etc. in the last few decades.
This is startling, as these two women are enormously important to 19th century European political history, and seem to only live on now through the attention given to their Winterhalter portraits and their style of dress, which, do not get me wrong, is integral to their stories as both employed fashion in a very meticulous, pointed manner in order to cultivate an impressive public presence, but ultimately their lives are so much larger than just their fashions.
So this is to say that, being a long-time enthusiast of both Elisabeth and Eugénie, and considering the drought of non-fiction publications on either of the two, I decided to put aside my concerns with "In the Shadow of the Empress" and picked up "The Rebel Empresses."
And I have to say that I am very happy that I gave the author a second chance, as I thoroughly enjoyed this work and I may venture to say that it may be Nancy Goldstone's best work yet.
Though the book may seem intimidating (it comes out to about 550 pages before notes, citations, etc.), it truly flies by and every page is as thoroughly engaging, active, and fascinating as the one prior. I really have to commend Nancy Goldstone, as she expertly weaves so much of 19th century European politics (and beyond) into this narrative. We cover everything from Lola Montez, the 1848 Revolutions, the Crimean War, the Risorgimento, the failed Hapsburg experiment in Mexico, the rise of Prussia and the Franco-Prussian War, the upheavals throughout the century in Spain, etc.
And all throughout these enormous events we also experience the fascinating lives of Elisabeth and Eugénie, which often run parallel to one another and which often share many similarities which can be discussed in tandem (spousal infidelities, unhappiness in their roles, their use of style to project their public images, both having only sons who experience similarly terrible fates, etc.)
Nancy Goldstone essentially presents a chapter for Elisabeth, then Eugénie, then Elisabeth, then Eugénie, etc., so we are continuously going back-and-forth between their lives, but because they experienced so many life events, whether personal or political, at the same time or very nearly, it is easy to keep up with each of the two women individually and to recall what is happening in the Tuileries while we are reading about what is going on at Schönbrunn, for example, and vice versa.
Overall, I really cannot recommend this book enough, and I was very pleasantly surprised with how much I enjoyed "The Rebel Empress" and really flew through it. Nancy Goldstone has a great talent for explaining (and condensing) political turmoil, wars and intrigues in an engaging way. The liveliness of the momentous political events which she employees so well is easy for the reader to follow and to understand within the context of the lives of these two women, as these explanations are necessary to understand the stories of both of Elisabeth and Eugénie, whom were either directly effected by or contributed to said political moments.
The only criticism that I really have for "The Rebel Empresses" would be that I do feel that the timeline involved could have used a bit more richness towards the end. About 450 pages of the book more or less deal with everything up to the Franco-Prussian War, and the last 100 pages deal with everything afterwards, which in the context of the lives of Elisabeth means that about the first 35 years of her life are covered in those 450 pages, and the other 25 fall into those last 100. For Eugénie, who lived to be 94 years old, that means that about 45 years of her life are covered in the first 450, and the other 50 are covered in the last 100 pages.
I do understand why the author made this choice, as with Eugénie especially the excitement of her life really did take place up until the Franco-Prussian War and much of her life thereafter was essentially just lived in exile in England, and after the deaths of her husband, Napoleon III, and her son, the Prince Imperial, within the following decade after the war, there is not a wealth of information to share for the 1880s through 1920.
However, for Elisabeth, I do believe, especially based on other biographies of the empress, that there was still a great deal more of her life to tell in that time frame, and that whereas those first 450 pages are just incredibly rich in detail and life, the last 100 do sort of feel like they are rushed and that we get the CliffsNotes of the 1870s-1890s for her (Mayerling, Ludwig II, her assassination, etc.) in those pages.
But I can understand how the pace of the book would have felt off if those years of Elisabeth's life were concentrated on heavily when there really was not nearly as much to say for Eugénie's life in those decades, and though it did feel a bit rushed compared to the pace of the book pre-1870s, we do still get the information that we need and the main events are covered.
All in all, I highly recommend "The Rebel Empresses", and I do believe that this is Nancy Goldstone at her best and that she very clearly adores and admires the two women which she covers here.
Should any readers wish to read further on Elisabeth or Eugénie, I would recommend "The Reluctant Empress" by Brigitte Hamman for Elisabeth, which I believe is the ultimate biography of the empress, and for Eugénie I would recommend "Eugénie: The Empress and Her Empire" by Desmond Seward.
When "The Rebel Empresses" was announced last year, I was immediately intrigued as, outside of Austria (and other Germanic areas), Empress Elisabeth is really not as well-known as her contemporaries, such as Queen Victoria, and Empress Eugénie feels almost entirely forgotten to me, even in modern France.
If one were to visit Vienna today, you would see Elisabeth's face everywhere, but if one were to visit Paris today, you would have a hard time finding mention of Eugénie anywhere, save for at Fontainebleau.
I grew up on "The Royal Diaries" and first discovered Elisabeth via her entry in that series, and I discovered Eugénie not long after, most likely due to her dedication to the memory of Marie-Antoinette through reimagining her style of dress, decor, Fontainebleau, etc., all of which can usually be found in the afterword to various Marie-Antoinette biographies.
Yet, in the two decades since I first discovered and became thoroughly interested in both of these remarkable women, there has been little English-language media produced about either of them, and, most pointedly, no biographies or other non-fiction works.
There has been a resurgence of interest in Elisabeth in the last few years, with several films, television series, and historical fiction novels being released, but there has not been a non-fiction work about Elisabeth published in several decades. The treatment for Eugénie is even worse, as she has not benefitted from the publication or release of any books, movies, novels, series, etc. in the last few decades.
This is startling, as these two women are enormously important to 19th century European political history, and seem to only live on now through the attention given to their Winterhalter portraits and their style of dress, which, do not get me wrong, is integral to their stories as both employed fashion in a very meticulous, pointed manner in order to cultivate an impressive public presence, but ultimately their lives are so much larger than just their fashions.
So this is to say that, being a long-time enthusiast of both Elisabeth and Eugénie, and considering the drought of non-fiction publications on either of the two, I decided to put aside my concerns with "In the Shadow of the Empress" and picked up "The Rebel Empresses."
And I have to say that I am very happy that I gave the author a second chance, as I thoroughly enjoyed this work and I may venture to say that it may be Nancy Goldstone's best work yet.
Though the book may seem intimidating (it comes out to about 550 pages before notes, citations, etc.), it truly flies by and every page is as thoroughly engaging, active, and fascinating as the one prior. I really have to commend Nancy Goldstone, as she expertly weaves so much of 19th century European politics (and beyond) into this narrative. We cover everything from Lola Montez, the 1848 Revolutions, the Crimean War, the Risorgimento, the failed Hapsburg experiment in Mexico, the rise of Prussia and the Franco-Prussian War, the upheavals throughout the century in Spain, etc.
And all throughout these enormous events we also experience the fascinating lives of Elisabeth and Eugénie, which often run parallel to one another and which often share many similarities which can be discussed in tandem (spousal infidelities, unhappiness in their roles, their use of style to project their public images, both having only sons who experience similarly terrible fates, etc.)
Nancy Goldstone essentially presents a chapter for Elisabeth, then Eugénie, then Elisabeth, then Eugénie, etc., so we are continuously going back-and-forth between their lives, but because they experienced so many life events, whether personal or political, at the same time or very nearly, it is easy to keep up with each of the two women individually and to recall what is happening in the Tuileries while we are reading about what is going on at Schönbrunn, for example, and vice versa.
Overall, I really cannot recommend this book enough, and I was very pleasantly surprised with how much I enjoyed "The Rebel Empress" and really flew through it. Nancy Goldstone has a great talent for explaining (and condensing) political turmoil, wars and intrigues in an engaging way. The liveliness of the momentous political events which she employees so well is easy for the reader to follow and to understand within the context of the lives of these two women, as these explanations are necessary to understand the stories of both of Elisabeth and Eugénie, whom were either directly effected by or contributed to said political moments.
The only criticism that I really have for "The Rebel Empresses" would be that I do feel that the timeline involved could have used a bit more richness towards the end. About 450 pages of the book more or less deal with everything up to the Franco-Prussian War, and the last 100 pages deal with everything afterwards, which in the context of the lives of Elisabeth means that about the first 35 years of her life are covered in those 450 pages, and the other 25 fall into those last 100. For Eugénie, who lived to be 94 years old, that means that about 45 years of her life are covered in the first 450, and the other 50 are covered in the last 100 pages.
I do understand why the author made this choice, as with Eugénie especially the excitement of her life really did take place up until the Franco-Prussian War and much of her life thereafter was essentially just lived in exile in England, and after the deaths of her husband, Napoleon III, and her son, the Prince Imperial, within the following decade after the war, there is not a wealth of information to share for the 1880s through 1920.
However, for Elisabeth, I do believe, especially based on other biographies of the empress, that there was still a great deal more of her life to tell in that time frame, and that whereas those first 450 pages are just incredibly rich in detail and life, the last 100 do sort of feel like they are rushed and that we get the CliffsNotes of the 1870s-1890s for her (Mayerling, Ludwig II, her assassination, etc.) in those pages.
But I can understand how the pace of the book would have felt off if those years of Elisabeth's life were concentrated on heavily when there really was not nearly as much to say for Eugénie's life in those decades, and though it did feel a bit rushed compared to the pace of the book pre-1870s, we do still get the information that we need and the main events are covered.
All in all, I highly recommend "The Rebel Empresses", and I do believe that this is Nancy Goldstone at her best and that she very clearly adores and admires the two women which she covers here.
Should any readers wish to read further on Elisabeth or Eugénie, I would recommend "The Reluctant Empress" by Brigitte Hamman for Elisabeth, which I believe is the ultimate biography of the empress, and for Eugénie I would recommend "Eugénie: The Empress and Her Empire" by Desmond Seward.
December 25, 2025
Shortly after starting this book, I said, “wait, the author’s name sounds familiar.” And, there it is: The Maria Theresa bio that I generously (sic) one-starred three years ago.
Guess what? This book is worse, and unlike one other reviewer, I’m going to detail why, as it eventually became outrightly mendacious. (Contra three-star reviewer “Lois,” no, there’s no need to wait for the future; her boatloads of errors are already clear. And, since your profile is set to private, I can’t link that.) Shock me that Brendan the History Nerd Toddler five-starred it. And yes, dude, you’re going to keep getting called out. You wouldn’t know actual factual history if it hit you in the face.
Besides various outright errors and historical iffiness in the book, there’s little of the frisson between the two subjects that a good dual biography, at least in my world, demands.
Example of a bleah one? This dual bio (by H.W. Brands, who more and more phones it in) of Abraham Lincoln and John Brown. Other than fearing, after his arrest, that Democrats would tar Republicans with Brown’s name, he avoided talking about him. Earlier, he had generally avoided Bleeding Kansas. A decent but not great one? This, on Luther and Erasmus. They had frisson, indeed, but the author doesn’t go as deep into the woods as he could, and has an error or two. The standard-setter, and the first I read? Arthur Herman’s Churchill-Gandhi dual bio. He goes above and beyond the basics into making a fair amount of the book about elements of both that directly or indirectly tie to this frisson — and sharpening them.
Initial error, or something, of note, Wiki refers to her as Archduchess Sophie, not Sophia (actually as Princess Sophie of Bavaria) and that was her birth name. (Worse, it’s “Sophie” in the index! And, no explanation of why “Sophia” in body copy.
Second, no mention of Sophie's rumored affair with L'Aiglon, aka Napoleon II. That would have added to the frisson factor.
No, NO, Crimea was not the “first modern war.” (Neither was the decade-later US Civil War.) It was fought with muskets, albeit rifled ones, bronze cannon, some rifled, some unrifled, and a mix of early “ironsides” and wooden ships, with their cannons, like those on land, and the muskets, all firing black powder. This was pretty much true of the US Civil War; late in the war, the Whitworth 3-inch rifle added a breech-loading rifled steel cannon to the Union arms, and the Union had various single-shot and repeater cartridge rifles, but all fired black powder, which after a dozen rounds or so, could foul a rifled musket enough to make it not much better than a smoothbore. And, neither war had machine guns. The Spanish-American War was the first modern war.
Gets the Second Schleswig War all wrong in a brief mention, also without actually calling that, or talking about the First Schleswig War or the backdrop.
Needle gun as "sneaky technological innovation." Eyeroll. Besides, the needle gun wasn't THAT effective, as it wasn't a modern cartridge rifle. The US Spencer was way ahead of it. The battle is normally known as Königgratz not Sadowa. In reality, Prussia outnumbered the combined Austrian and Saxon forces. Also, the French Chassepot — some of which were already available in France at the time of the Seven Weeks War — was a better gun as well. (She does later mention it.)
Yes, it's PRONOUNCED "Pesth" in Magyar, but never spelled that way in English. Are we going to spell "Pago Pago" in Samoa as "Pango Pango"? (It is pronounced that way.)
Definite misunderstanding of the Ausgleich.
Wrong on numbers at Sedan. Rather than 240K Germans vs 100K French, Wiki and several other sites have 200K vs 120K.
On the Prince Imperial, he actually had a strong British escort in Zululand that eventually got lax and he outran it, too. Actually, a strap broke on his horse’s saddle and it kicked him. Other aspects of his death as recorded by Goldstone don’t square with what you’ll find elsewhere.
Basically, Goldstone should not be allowed to write any history book that contains military history as part of it. (And Soy Boy the ex-US Army tanker misses this again, especially.)
Far more than the “far left” in Paris surely rejoiced at Sedan’s result.
Goldstone has a relatively loose grip on the ethnic complexities of the Hapsburg Empire, though she gets Franz Joseph down pretty well.
Contra her assertion that Napoleon III could not just travel like a private citizen to another country like Eugenie, the idea of monarchs traveling officially incognito was an accepted practice.
On Rudolf, he likely had syphilis as well as gonorrhea. And, he’d “played the field” ardently long before his marriage, let alone it going sour. This was known to both Sisi and Franz Joseph, too. And, Mary von Vetsera wasn’t even his only mistress; he was with Mizzi Kaspar at the same time, and first proposed the suicide pact with her; she reportedly laughed. (She eventually died from syphilis herself.) Also, supposedly, Hungarian nationalists were trying to co-opt or even blackmail him into becoming king of Hungary. Also, Rudolf was supposedly so desperate to off himself, but didn’t want to leave the world alone, he asked a male secretary to join him. See here. The fact that Goldstone mentions none of this tells how shallow this portion of the history is. And, this was the last straw on one-starring it. It appears she is trying to present historical fiction, and not even that close to historical, of a gauzy romantic type, as actual history. Also, this piece blames Sisi in part for shunning Rudolf’s wife.
Or, to put it in terms friend Marquise should like? Goldstone is trying to do a “Beauty and the Beast” riff. It may be nice storytelling, but it still ain't history; don't ask me how people can admit Goldstone is rife with inaccuracy or unprofessional and still three-star her just because she tells nice stories that aren't historical.
I know Goldstone isn’t an actual academic or even academic-lite historian. Making things yet worse? Her sources appear to be all English-language, and not even English-translated French or German.
Anyway, folks, don’t read her. And, speaking of not even academic lite? I refuse to put the history tag on this book.
Guess what? This book is worse, and unlike one other reviewer, I’m going to detail why, as it eventually became outrightly mendacious. (Contra three-star reviewer “Lois,” no, there’s no need to wait for the future; her boatloads of errors are already clear. And, since your profile is set to private, I can’t link that.) Shock me that Brendan the History Nerd Toddler five-starred it. And yes, dude, you’re going to keep getting called out. You wouldn’t know actual factual history if it hit you in the face.
Besides various outright errors and historical iffiness in the book, there’s little of the frisson between the two subjects that a good dual biography, at least in my world, demands.
Example of a bleah one? This dual bio (by H.W. Brands, who more and more phones it in) of Abraham Lincoln and John Brown. Other than fearing, after his arrest, that Democrats would tar Republicans with Brown’s name, he avoided talking about him. Earlier, he had generally avoided Bleeding Kansas. A decent but not great one? This, on Luther and Erasmus. They had frisson, indeed, but the author doesn’t go as deep into the woods as he could, and has an error or two. The standard-setter, and the first I read? Arthur Herman’s Churchill-Gandhi dual bio. He goes above and beyond the basics into making a fair amount of the book about elements of both that directly or indirectly tie to this frisson — and sharpening them.
Initial error, or something, of note, Wiki refers to her as Archduchess Sophie, not Sophia (actually as Princess Sophie of Bavaria) and that was her birth name. (Worse, it’s “Sophie” in the index! And, no explanation of why “Sophia” in body copy.
Second, no mention of Sophie's rumored affair with L'Aiglon, aka Napoleon II. That would have added to the frisson factor.
No, NO, Crimea was not the “first modern war.” (Neither was the decade-later US Civil War.) It was fought with muskets, albeit rifled ones, bronze cannon, some rifled, some unrifled, and a mix of early “ironsides” and wooden ships, with their cannons, like those on land, and the muskets, all firing black powder. This was pretty much true of the US Civil War; late in the war, the Whitworth 3-inch rifle added a breech-loading rifled steel cannon to the Union arms, and the Union had various single-shot and repeater cartridge rifles, but all fired black powder, which after a dozen rounds or so, could foul a rifled musket enough to make it not much better than a smoothbore. And, neither war had machine guns. The Spanish-American War was the first modern war.
Gets the Second Schleswig War all wrong in a brief mention, also without actually calling that, or talking about the First Schleswig War or the backdrop.
Needle gun as "sneaky technological innovation." Eyeroll. Besides, the needle gun wasn't THAT effective, as it wasn't a modern cartridge rifle. The US Spencer was way ahead of it. The battle is normally known as Königgratz not Sadowa. In reality, Prussia outnumbered the combined Austrian and Saxon forces. Also, the French Chassepot — some of which were already available in France at the time of the Seven Weeks War — was a better gun as well. (She does later mention it.)
Yes, it's PRONOUNCED "Pesth" in Magyar, but never spelled that way in English. Are we going to spell "Pago Pago" in Samoa as "Pango Pango"? (It is pronounced that way.)
Definite misunderstanding of the Ausgleich.
Wrong on numbers at Sedan. Rather than 240K Germans vs 100K French, Wiki and several other sites have 200K vs 120K.
On the Prince Imperial, he actually had a strong British escort in Zululand that eventually got lax and he outran it, too. Actually, a strap broke on his horse’s saddle and it kicked him. Other aspects of his death as recorded by Goldstone don’t square with what you’ll find elsewhere.
Basically, Goldstone should not be allowed to write any history book that contains military history as part of it. (And Soy Boy the ex-US Army tanker misses this again, especially.)
Far more than the “far left” in Paris surely rejoiced at Sedan’s result.
Goldstone has a relatively loose grip on the ethnic complexities of the Hapsburg Empire, though she gets Franz Joseph down pretty well.
Contra her assertion that Napoleon III could not just travel like a private citizen to another country like Eugenie, the idea of monarchs traveling officially incognito was an accepted practice.
On Rudolf, he likely had syphilis as well as gonorrhea. And, he’d “played the field” ardently long before his marriage, let alone it going sour. This was known to both Sisi and Franz Joseph, too. And, Mary von Vetsera wasn’t even his only mistress; he was with Mizzi Kaspar at the same time, and first proposed the suicide pact with her; she reportedly laughed. (She eventually died from syphilis herself.) Also, supposedly, Hungarian nationalists were trying to co-opt or even blackmail him into becoming king of Hungary. Also, Rudolf was supposedly so desperate to off himself, but didn’t want to leave the world alone, he asked a male secretary to join him. See here. The fact that Goldstone mentions none of this tells how shallow this portion of the history is. And, this was the last straw on one-starring it. It appears she is trying to present historical fiction, and not even that close to historical, of a gauzy romantic type, as actual history. Also, this piece blames Sisi in part for shunning Rudolf’s wife.
Or, to put it in terms friend Marquise should like? Goldstone is trying to do a “Beauty and the Beast” riff. It may be nice storytelling, but it still ain't history; don't ask me how people can admit Goldstone is rife with inaccuracy or unprofessional and still three-star her just because she tells nice stories that aren't historical.
I know Goldstone isn’t an actual academic or even academic-lite historian. Making things yet worse? Her sources appear to be all English-language, and not even English-translated French or German.
Anyway, folks, don’t read her. And, speaking of not even academic lite? I refuse to put the history tag on this book.
July 1, 2025
Story of two of the most fascinating and enigmatic empresses of the 19th century, Eugenie of France and Elisabeth of Austria. Both were also the last in their respective countries. Married to men who clung to autocracy in the face of obviously changing values, their lives were studies in both enormous privilege as well as misery. Their husbands were neither dumb nor lazy, but they were inflexible, both in their personal lives, and in how they ran their countries. Both Louis Napoleon and Franz Joseph sought to widen their empires at the expense of the newly emerging country of Germany. And they might’ve gotten away with it too, if it hadn’t been for a wily, unscrupulous, and brilliant statesman named Bismarck, who had no intention of letting his beloved country get carved up and his somewhat weak sovereign pushed aside. Gone were the great leaders of the past century, Napoleon and Marie Therese. And unfortunately their descendants lacked both their wisdom and their accomplishments, while still retaining their sense of privilege and high-handedness.
The two wives were the unlucky victims that were supposed to hold their families together in the midst of all this turmoil and upheaval. Neither came from royalty so there was a learning curve. But despite their best efforts, their worlds fell apart around them as empires collapsed and their families along with them. Both women endured heartbreaking losses, including of their own reputations in the newly emerging press of the day. A fascinating account of a time, place and people who left an indelible imprint on the world, and of two queens destined to be amongst the very last to rule at the tail end of the age of autocracy.
The two wives were the unlucky victims that were supposed to hold their families together in the midst of all this turmoil and upheaval. Neither came from royalty so there was a learning curve. But despite their best efforts, their worlds fell apart around them as empires collapsed and their families along with them. Both women endured heartbreaking losses, including of their own reputations in the newly emerging press of the day. A fascinating account of a time, place and people who left an indelible imprint on the world, and of two queens destined to be amongst the very last to rule at the tail end of the age of autocracy.
June 11, 2025
This was a solid middle-of-the-road biography of Elisabeth of Austria and Eugenie of France. The book does it's job, it tells the story. There's no new information to be gleaned. I did enjoy the telling.
One of the things I took issue with was the same as in the last Nancy Goldstone biography I read: it's unprofessional. She disperses her personal opinions throughout the length of the book in the form of footnotes. Some footnotes are academic, and valuable to the story being told. Others are purely for entertainment value, ie: "Poor Sisi, born too early! How she would have loved plastic surgery." How do you know? Just because she was obsessed with anti-aging, doesn't mean she would've agreed with the risks of surgery. There was also footnotes that contained things like "I'd like to have seen them try". Breaking the fourth wall in a serious biography is completely unprofessional, and it took me out of the reading experience.
Another thing was the speculation about a regency early in the marriage of Franz Josef and Elisabeth. The author states quite candidly that things were "obviously" worked out for Franz Josef's mother to take over as regent in the event that something happened to him. She then goes on to say that we can never know because his papers on the matter remained secret and have never been published. Which is it? Fact or speculation?
A final thing that bothered me were the endnotes. There are thirty pages full of them. However, not one marked place in the actual text if you were searching for them. No numbers in the reading for you to locate in the corresponding section in the endnotes.
I think the publishers of Nancy Goldstone's biographies need to do better, insist on higher standards.
2.5/5 rounded up
One of the things I took issue with was the same as in the last Nancy Goldstone biography I read: it's unprofessional. She disperses her personal opinions throughout the length of the book in the form of footnotes. Some footnotes are academic, and valuable to the story being told. Others are purely for entertainment value, ie: "Poor Sisi, born too early! How she would have loved plastic surgery." How do you know? Just because she was obsessed with anti-aging, doesn't mean she would've agreed with the risks of surgery. There was also footnotes that contained things like "I'd like to have seen them try". Breaking the fourth wall in a serious biography is completely unprofessional, and it took me out of the reading experience.
Another thing was the speculation about a regency early in the marriage of Franz Josef and Elisabeth. The author states quite candidly that things were "obviously" worked out for Franz Josef's mother to take over as regent in the event that something happened to him. She then goes on to say that we can never know because his papers on the matter remained secret and have never been published. Which is it? Fact or speculation?
A final thing that bothered me were the endnotes. There are thirty pages full of them. However, not one marked place in the actual text if you were searching for them. No numbers in the reading for you to locate in the corresponding section in the endnotes.
I think the publishers of Nancy Goldstone's biographies need to do better, insist on higher standards.
2.5/5 rounded up
August 3, 2025
I’ve long been a fan of the biographies of Nancy Goldstone. She’s one of those popular historians who really has a knack for giving us insight into some of the most formidable women of European history, whether it be Catherine de’Medici and her daughter, Marguerite de Valois, Maria Theresa and her many daughters, or Joanna, Queen of Naples, Jerusalem, and Sicily. In The Rebel Empresses, she turns her attention to two of the most redoubtable monarchs of the 19th century, Elisabeth of Austria (popularly known as Sisi) and Eugénie, Empress of the French as the wife of Napoléon III.
As Goldstone illustrates, from a young age the woman who would become popularly known as Sisi was a bit of a free spirit. Unfortunately for her, she had the misfortune to marry into one of the most staid and tradition-bound monarchies in Europe, and exacerbating matters was her formidable mother-in-law Sophie, who took a cordial dislike to her daughter-in-law and essentially did everything she could to curtail her power and to make her life miserable, up to and including making sure that Sisi barely knew her own children.
Sisi, however, wasn’t just going to roll over and take whatever abuse she was given by the powers-that-be at the Austrian court. From the beginning she was closely aligned with and advocated for the poor and the downtrodden, in particular the residents of Hungary, who were often seen as inferior to their Austrian compatriots. It’s thus not surprising that she would earn their love, even as she was something of an outcast when it came to the court in Vienna. You can’t help but admire her tenacity and her utter willingness to stick to her guns and to do what she thought was right, even if it came with a significant cost to herself. On the bright side, it was clear to anyone with good sense–including, at times, her husband–that she was the greatest gift the Austrian monarchy could have received. She had the common touch, something that almost no one else in the emperor’s court could claim.
A sense of melancholia slowly slips into Goldstone’s telling, as Sisi grew more and more disenchanted with court life and the fact that her husband was frustratingly inflexible when it came to his perception of himself as blessed by the divine to rule as he chose. It’s no wonder that she increasingly withdrew from court, though she remained committed to her exhausting physical regimen. She was a free spirit right up until the end, and it’s impossible not to feel a wrench of loss at the thought that she was assassinated by an anarchist, who stabbed her with a needle while she was on a visit to Switzerland. It was rather an ignominious end for one of the 19th century’s most famous women.
Eugénie, likewise, was a bit of a free spirit. Born into the Spanish nobility, she managed to cast a spell on Louis Napoléon almost as soon as they met, so it wasn’t surprising that they eventually married. She was, in some ways, even more of a force of nature than her husband, and once he began to suffer from health problems she came to play an increasingly large role in affairs of state, much to the consternation of some of the men who surrounded her.
Like Sisi, Eugénie wasn’t the type of woman to just sit by on the sidelines and accept whatever others told her to do. In addition to serving as regent for her husband, she was also key to the French effort to put a member of the House of Habsburg on the Mexican throne. Of course, it turned out that this wasn’t such a good idea, since it ended up costing the French enormous amounts of blood and treasure with very little to show for it, as Maximilian ended up deposed and then executed by a firing squad.
As if all of this weren’t enough, Eugénie also managed to survive the coup that toppled the regime and fled to exile in England. Say what you will about the Empress of the French, but she was no shrinking daisy. She was a survivor through and through, and she lived right up til 1920, dying at the ripe old age of 94.
As with her previous books, Goldstone masterfully shows us the extent to which royal women could and did affect the events and historical trajectories of their nations, often despite the objections of the men who surrounded them. Though obviously these two royal women are the centerpiece of the book, Goldstone also draws our attention to the broader contours of the world around them, in particular the many conflicts that roiled the continent in the middle of the century. This was the time, after all, when both Italy and Germany were undergoing their own processes of unification, and both Sisi and Eugénie were key parts of these movements. Thanks to Goldstone’s firm grasp of the period we get to meet some of the other great figures that strode across the stage of history, including none other than Bismarck, the man who played such a key role in elevating Prussia to the top of the European hierarchy.
It’s not every author who could write a dual biography that manages to do justice to both of its subjects, but Goldstone more than holds her own in this regard. She allows us to see how these two formidable women constantly pushed back against the social and political pressures and restrictions that women of all classes, but particularly royalty, faced. They did meet one another, and their fates were constantly intertwined due to the (often fraught) relations between their husbands.
The Rebel Empresses is a true delight from the first page to the last. Goldstone’s research is impeccable, as always, but she also isn’t afraid to include some snark, particularly in her footnotes. This is the perfect blend of accessible and rigorous, and I cannot recommend it highly enough to anyone who loves royal history.
As Goldstone illustrates, from a young age the woman who would become popularly known as Sisi was a bit of a free spirit. Unfortunately for her, she had the misfortune to marry into one of the most staid and tradition-bound monarchies in Europe, and exacerbating matters was her formidable mother-in-law Sophie, who took a cordial dislike to her daughter-in-law and essentially did everything she could to curtail her power and to make her life miserable, up to and including making sure that Sisi barely knew her own children.
Sisi, however, wasn’t just going to roll over and take whatever abuse she was given by the powers-that-be at the Austrian court. From the beginning she was closely aligned with and advocated for the poor and the downtrodden, in particular the residents of Hungary, who were often seen as inferior to their Austrian compatriots. It’s thus not surprising that she would earn their love, even as she was something of an outcast when it came to the court in Vienna. You can’t help but admire her tenacity and her utter willingness to stick to her guns and to do what she thought was right, even if it came with a significant cost to herself. On the bright side, it was clear to anyone with good sense–including, at times, her husband–that she was the greatest gift the Austrian monarchy could have received. She had the common touch, something that almost no one else in the emperor’s court could claim.
A sense of melancholia slowly slips into Goldstone’s telling, as Sisi grew more and more disenchanted with court life and the fact that her husband was frustratingly inflexible when it came to his perception of himself as blessed by the divine to rule as he chose. It’s no wonder that she increasingly withdrew from court, though she remained committed to her exhausting physical regimen. She was a free spirit right up until the end, and it’s impossible not to feel a wrench of loss at the thought that she was assassinated by an anarchist, who stabbed her with a needle while she was on a visit to Switzerland. It was rather an ignominious end for one of the 19th century’s most famous women.
Eugénie, likewise, was a bit of a free spirit. Born into the Spanish nobility, she managed to cast a spell on Louis Napoléon almost as soon as they met, so it wasn’t surprising that they eventually married. She was, in some ways, even more of a force of nature than her husband, and once he began to suffer from health problems she came to play an increasingly large role in affairs of state, much to the consternation of some of the men who surrounded her.
Like Sisi, Eugénie wasn’t the type of woman to just sit by on the sidelines and accept whatever others told her to do. In addition to serving as regent for her husband, she was also key to the French effort to put a member of the House of Habsburg on the Mexican throne. Of course, it turned out that this wasn’t such a good idea, since it ended up costing the French enormous amounts of blood and treasure with very little to show for it, as Maximilian ended up deposed and then executed by a firing squad.
As if all of this weren’t enough, Eugénie also managed to survive the coup that toppled the regime and fled to exile in England. Say what you will about the Empress of the French, but she was no shrinking daisy. She was a survivor through and through, and she lived right up til 1920, dying at the ripe old age of 94.
As with her previous books, Goldstone masterfully shows us the extent to which royal women could and did affect the events and historical trajectories of their nations, often despite the objections of the men who surrounded them. Though obviously these two royal women are the centerpiece of the book, Goldstone also draws our attention to the broader contours of the world around them, in particular the many conflicts that roiled the continent in the middle of the century. This was the time, after all, when both Italy and Germany were undergoing their own processes of unification, and both Sisi and Eugénie were key parts of these movements. Thanks to Goldstone’s firm grasp of the period we get to meet some of the other great figures that strode across the stage of history, including none other than Bismarck, the man who played such a key role in elevating Prussia to the top of the European hierarchy.
It’s not every author who could write a dual biography that manages to do justice to both of its subjects, but Goldstone more than holds her own in this regard. She allows us to see how these two formidable women constantly pushed back against the social and political pressures and restrictions that women of all classes, but particularly royalty, faced. They did meet one another, and their fates were constantly intertwined due to the (often fraught) relations between their husbands.
The Rebel Empresses is a true delight from the first page to the last. Goldstone’s research is impeccable, as always, but she also isn’t afraid to include some snark, particularly in her footnotes. This is the perfect blend of accessible and rigorous, and I cannot recommend it highly enough to anyone who loves royal history.
November 17, 2024
I requested and received an eARC of The Rebel Empresses: Elisabeth of Austria and Eugénie of France, Power and Glamour in the Struggle for Europe by Nancy Goldstone via NetGalley. Having read some of Goldstone’s previous work, I was instantly drawn to this book when I saw that it was available for request. I’m pretty familiar Sisi of Austria, but admittedly only the larger and more dramatic incidents on her life. Her life has inspired countless dramatizations and captured the imagination of many history lovers. I had no previous knowledge of Eugénie, wife of Napoleon III, but was definitely excited to learn more about. Sisi and Eugénie were two of the most influential women in nineteenth century Europe and witnessed modernization, war, revolutions assassinations, while dealing with their own more intimate scandals and tragedies. In The Rebel Empresses, Goldstone explores their lives among the turbulence of a changing and conflicted world.
Goldstone is one of my favorite nonfiction writers! I absolutely fell in love with her writing style in The Daughters of the Winter Queen and she exceeds herself in The Rebel Empresses. Goldstone is able to imbue her subjects with such a vivacity that it is impossible to be disinterested in the rich history that she explores with Sisi and Eugénie. Names become people and personalities, while events become motivation and reasoning. Goldstone has a passion for history and a gift for storytelling that comes across in the text which is what makes reading and learning from her work such a rewarding experience. A highlight, for me, was a section about Sisi’s early life when Goldstone explores Lola Montez and her relationship with King Ludwig I. What an incredibly interesting person Montez was!
As the book follows Sisi’s adult and later life, it is difficult not to develop an affinity for the woman. Goldstone really captures Sisi’s irrepressible spirit and the difficulties she faced with her mother-in-law, Archduchess Sophie. There were parts that almost read like a bonkbuster. Someone placing the pamphlet, about Marie Antoinette used in as a warning and attempt to extort Maria Theresa, on her desk? It’s simply devious! I also enjoyed the way that Goldstone drew parallels between the experiences of Sisi and some modern royal women. There’s some really great, subtle commentary in there that I thought really resonated with recent history.
Similarly enthralling were the chapters about Eugénie’s young adult life. The teenage passions that Goldstone describes create a portrait of quite a fascinating young woman. As mentioned, anything about Eugénie was almost entirely unknown to me before starting this book, this is something Goldstone quickly corrected. Her family’s history was quite interesting, and her father seemed to cute quite a romantic figure. I was absorbed reading about her relationship with Louis Napoleon, particularly the early missteps. I think she emerges as an equally sympathetic figure as Sisi in some ways. The humiliation she must have endured given the obviousness with which Napoleon III conducted his affairs (the Countess of Castiglione and those opera exits! Eugénie left alone in her box! Can you imagine?)
Reading about her adult life was every bit as interest as reading about Sisi’s. There were several moments when I actually got quite tickled reading about certain incidents in her life (like teaching her son how to swim by throwing him headfirst into the sea) or the absurdity of Plon-Plon. My mirth, however, disappeared once I reached the concluding chapters about her life. The Rebel Empresses served as a marvelous introduction to Eugénie for me and I couldn’t help but feel a certain sadness as Goldstone explored her later years. Goldstone’s greatest skill, aside from the way she builds such strong personal narratives about her subjects, is the way she’s able to position history seamlessly throughout the accounts of their lives. When reading historical nonfiction, it is easy to feel bogged down in events, battles, laws etc. but Goldstone explores revolution, war, and more in a way that flows so nicely that it makes learning feel both fun and approachable.
Goldstone is one of my favorite nonfiction writers! I absolutely fell in love with her writing style in The Daughters of the Winter Queen and she exceeds herself in The Rebel Empresses. Goldstone is able to imbue her subjects with such a vivacity that it is impossible to be disinterested in the rich history that she explores with Sisi and Eugénie. Names become people and personalities, while events become motivation and reasoning. Goldstone has a passion for history and a gift for storytelling that comes across in the text which is what makes reading and learning from her work such a rewarding experience. A highlight, for me, was a section about Sisi’s early life when Goldstone explores Lola Montez and her relationship with King Ludwig I. What an incredibly interesting person Montez was!
As the book follows Sisi’s adult and later life, it is difficult not to develop an affinity for the woman. Goldstone really captures Sisi’s irrepressible spirit and the difficulties she faced with her mother-in-law, Archduchess Sophie. There were parts that almost read like a bonkbuster. Someone placing the pamphlet, about Marie Antoinette used in as a warning and attempt to extort Maria Theresa, on her desk? It’s simply devious! I also enjoyed the way that Goldstone drew parallels between the experiences of Sisi and some modern royal women. There’s some really great, subtle commentary in there that I thought really resonated with recent history.
Similarly enthralling were the chapters about Eugénie’s young adult life. The teenage passions that Goldstone describes create a portrait of quite a fascinating young woman. As mentioned, anything about Eugénie was almost entirely unknown to me before starting this book, this is something Goldstone quickly corrected. Her family’s history was quite interesting, and her father seemed to cute quite a romantic figure. I was absorbed reading about her relationship with Louis Napoleon, particularly the early missteps. I think she emerges as an equally sympathetic figure as Sisi in some ways. The humiliation she must have endured given the obviousness with which Napoleon III conducted his affairs (the Countess of Castiglione and those opera exits! Eugénie left alone in her box! Can you imagine?)
Reading about her adult life was every bit as interest as reading about Sisi’s. There were several moments when I actually got quite tickled reading about certain incidents in her life (like teaching her son how to swim by throwing him headfirst into the sea) or the absurdity of Plon-Plon. My mirth, however, disappeared once I reached the concluding chapters about her life. The Rebel Empresses served as a marvelous introduction to Eugénie for me and I couldn’t help but feel a certain sadness as Goldstone explored her later years. Goldstone’s greatest skill, aside from the way she builds such strong personal narratives about her subjects, is the way she’s able to position history seamlessly throughout the accounts of their lives. When reading historical nonfiction, it is easy to feel bogged down in events, battles, laws etc. but Goldstone explores revolution, war, and more in a way that flows so nicely that it makes learning feel both fun and approachable.
February 25, 2025
Thank you to Netgalley for an advance copy of this biography in exchange for an honest review!
Elisabeth of Austria, known as Sisi, was married to Emperor Franz Joseph of Austria (who also happened to be her first cousin). She was beautiful, headstrong, and in many ways poorly suited for the rigid lifestyle of an empress. Despite her mother in law’s dominant control over nearly every matter of her life, Sisi earned the deep love of not only her husband but the Austrian people. She was not only beautiful, known for her head of luxurious hair that took hours each day to arrange, but was recognized for her innate since of fairness and empathy for others.
I was particularly fascinated by Sisi's story. She was never meant to marry Franz Joseph and in fact it was her older sister who had been earmarked for the role. But he fell for the younger sister and would have no other. She refused to conform to societal and royal expectations literally until the day of her death. She was extremely athletic, spending hours a day riding horses, walking, and fencing, but was also interested in poetry and classical literature. She was consumed with preserving her beauty and staving off aging and was determined to maintain her teenage weight of 110 pounds well into middle age. While she had such compassion for others and suffered cruelly at the hands of her mother-in-law who took over the raising of her first two children, she blindly favored her youngest child and ignored the distress of her son before his death.
Eugenie, married to Emperor Louis Napoleon of France, was a deeply trusted advisor and confidant to her husband. Her father inherited the title of Count of Montijo and became one of the richest men in Spain. She was rejected by several men she was interested in, and her future husband had no intent to marry her at first. But wily Eugenie refused to become his lover until he gave in and married her. Despite her husband’s many affairs, he trusted her judgment and made her regent over France multiple times when he was out of the country. She was instrumental in making positive changes to benefit the people of France, such as when she toured an institution housing young children and was moved to tears at the terrible treatment they endured; she immediately had the children removed from the facility. It was fascinating to read about Eugenie's gallant dentist, who facilitated her escape from France after her husband was imprisoned and lost power.
While both were flawed women, I did admire both women for their many philanthropic activities. Both made a practice of visiting hospitals, orphanages, and factories. Because Sisi would hold the hands of the dying and cared little about the background of others but had compassion for all she was "deprecated by the ruling elite and adored by the lower classes and outcasts."
Goldstone’s presentation of the two women reveals deep research presented in a fascinating way. While I was initially dubious about the choice to include both women's story in one volume, this choice to present this book as a dual biography was an inspired choice; while very different in many ways, the women were both ruling empresses in Europe during the same time period and encountered most of the same historical events. In the end of their lives, their stories had many parallels, and they actually spent time together every season in their later years.
This is the third biography by this author I have read, and each seems better than the last. This was well researched and presented in alternating chapters that focused on each woman, although the historical events overlapped so much that they constantly pop in and out of each other's story. I have been wanting to read a biography of Empress Elisabeth for some time and have also never read anything about Empress Eugenie. I learned so much from this book about two reigning empresses that occupied the same time and space as Queen Victoria.
#netgalley #therebelempresses
Elisabeth of Austria, known as Sisi, was married to Emperor Franz Joseph of Austria (who also happened to be her first cousin). She was beautiful, headstrong, and in many ways poorly suited for the rigid lifestyle of an empress. Despite her mother in law’s dominant control over nearly every matter of her life, Sisi earned the deep love of not only her husband but the Austrian people. She was not only beautiful, known for her head of luxurious hair that took hours each day to arrange, but was recognized for her innate since of fairness and empathy for others.
I was particularly fascinated by Sisi's story. She was never meant to marry Franz Joseph and in fact it was her older sister who had been earmarked for the role. But he fell for the younger sister and would have no other. She refused to conform to societal and royal expectations literally until the day of her death. She was extremely athletic, spending hours a day riding horses, walking, and fencing, but was also interested in poetry and classical literature. She was consumed with preserving her beauty and staving off aging and was determined to maintain her teenage weight of 110 pounds well into middle age. While she had such compassion for others and suffered cruelly at the hands of her mother-in-law who took over the raising of her first two children, she blindly favored her youngest child and ignored the distress of her son before his death.
Eugenie, married to Emperor Louis Napoleon of France, was a deeply trusted advisor and confidant to her husband. Her father inherited the title of Count of Montijo and became one of the richest men in Spain. She was rejected by several men she was interested in, and her future husband had no intent to marry her at first. But wily Eugenie refused to become his lover until he gave in and married her. Despite her husband’s many affairs, he trusted her judgment and made her regent over France multiple times when he was out of the country. She was instrumental in making positive changes to benefit the people of France, such as when she toured an institution housing young children and was moved to tears at the terrible treatment they endured; she immediately had the children removed from the facility. It was fascinating to read about Eugenie's gallant dentist, who facilitated her escape from France after her husband was imprisoned and lost power.
While both were flawed women, I did admire both women for their many philanthropic activities. Both made a practice of visiting hospitals, orphanages, and factories. Because Sisi would hold the hands of the dying and cared little about the background of others but had compassion for all she was "deprecated by the ruling elite and adored by the lower classes and outcasts."
Goldstone’s presentation of the two women reveals deep research presented in a fascinating way. While I was initially dubious about the choice to include both women's story in one volume, this choice to present this book as a dual biography was an inspired choice; while very different in many ways, the women were both ruling empresses in Europe during the same time period and encountered most of the same historical events. In the end of their lives, their stories had many parallels, and they actually spent time together every season in their later years.
This is the third biography by this author I have read, and each seems better than the last. This was well researched and presented in alternating chapters that focused on each woman, although the historical events overlapped so much that they constantly pop in and out of each other's story. I have been wanting to read a biography of Empress Elisabeth for some time and have also never read anything about Empress Eugenie. I learned so much from this book about two reigning empresses that occupied the same time and space as Queen Victoria.
#netgalley #therebelempresses
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