Lately, I've been reading some very good books that all seem to have a theme in common, and I've been pleasantly surprised by some of them, so I thought I would share my impressions in case any of you were interested in doing some reading of your own.
We Two: Victoria and Albert: Rulers, Partners, Rivals by Gillian Gill is a fantastic exploration of the royal marriage, and a good overview of the backgrounds of both partners. I've read many books about Victoria, but almost none about Albert, and I was really fascinated by what the author has to say about his childhood. I also enjoyed the story of how Albert "transformed" Victoria, for lack of a better word, into a more compliant spouse, and tried to take for himself the powers of the monarch, despite Parliament having refused to grant them to him officially. Albert's influence on Victoria and on England was really astounding, and this book does an excellent job of exploring those relationships. This is an excellent introduction to them as people, and as rulers, and I think many readers would find this enjoyable, even if you are already well versed in the history of Queen Victoria.
Born to Rule: Five Reigning Consorts, Granddaughters of Queen Victoria by Julia P. Gelardi tells the story of how Victoria and Albert's descendants took the lessons learned from their formidable grandmother and spread them across Europe. I would classify this as an intermediate level read, because there is a lot of jumping back and forth between the five women's stories, and the Saxe-Coburg-Gothas were a very fertile group, so there are a lot of supporting characters, and you have to really be paying attention to keep them all straight. But Gelardi does an excellent job tying them together, and it is a fascinating read. I'm working on a blog post about how Queen Victoria and Christian IX of Denmark managed to populate almost all the thrones of Europe, and this book feeds directly into that. The five Granddaughters led lives that encompassed the great events of late 19th century and early to mid 20th century Europe, so the scope of Born to Rule is broad but fascinating and manages to convey an impressive amount of detail. I would heartily recommend this to anyone interested in Modern European history, or the legacy of Queen Victoria.
Sovereign Ladies: Sex, Sacrifice and Power - The Six Reigning Queens of England by Maureen Waller analyzes the reigns of Mary I, Elizabeth I, Mary II, Anne, Victoria and Elizabeth II through the lens of their gender. It deals only with the Queens regnant, that is women who actually ruled, not the wives and consorts of Kings. It covers how each one came to the throne, and how each Queen dealt with the fact of her gender. All of them, with the exception, to a degree, of Elizabeth II, ruled during a time when women were seen to be inferior by nature of their gender, when womanhood was equated with subservience, obedience, weakness, and submission to a man, either father or husband. The result of this varies widely, from Elizabeth I who built up the cult of the Virgin Queen to Mary II who claimed the throne, but essentially turned it over to her domineering husband, William of Orange, as her co-monarch. Each section deals with one Queen, and gives enough biographical data to build a solid line of reasoning without overwhelming the reader, or needlessly covering ground well tended by other biographers. I found the parallels and divergences in their stories fascinating. This is a fairly easy read, and is handily broken up into sections by Queen, so it's easy to read in chunks, or even put down and come back much later without losing the thread.
Royal Feud: The Dark Side of the Love Story of the Century by Michael Thornton is the most gossipy of the group. The premise is basically that Queen Elizabeth, the Queen Mother, HATED Wallis Simpson almost from the moment of meeting her, and describes how that tension played out over the course of their lives. Now, this book was published in 1985, so some of it reads as being slightly dated (most notably because both protagonists were living at the time of publication, although Wallis died in 1986 and the Queen Mother in 2002), but since most of the events it covers happened decades before that even, it's not a handicap. According to Thornton, Wallis Simpson referred to the Queen Mother as "The Dowdy Duchess" (she was Elizabeth, Duchess of York at the time they met) and the Queen Mother basically called her "that woman" or tried to refer to her not at all if it was possible. The two women did not meet from the time Edward VIII abdicated the throne until close to twenty years later. Thornton blames the royal family's poor treatment of Wallis on both Queen Mary and the Queen Mother, but mostly the Queen Mother. Thornton seems to think that George VI's unwillingness to receive Wallis at Court, and his refusal to allow her to be styled Her Royal Highness was the result of his wife's opinion. He does a fairly good job at relating the story without censure for either party, and I came away feeling sorry for both women. This is another book where there is a large cast of supporting characters, and some of them can be difficult to keep straight. But it is a fascinating insider account of one of the great scandals of the 20th century, and well worth a read.
Well, that's it for now. I've got a couple more stacked up on my nightstand, one covering Queen Victoria's daughters, two other books about Wallis Simpson, one dealing with her later life, after Edward's death, and one about the two of them, plus another Julia Gelardi book dealing with royal mothers and their daughters tragedies (Queen Victoria, Catherine of Aragon, and Marie Antoinette feature heavily), so there will undoubtedly be another round of book reviews down the road. In the meantime, if you have any suggestions for things I should read, leave them in the comments section, I'm always looking for ideas. And let me know if you read any of these, I'd love to know what you think.
A.H.
Showing posts with label history. Show all posts
Showing posts with label history. Show all posts
Monday, October 3, 2011
Thursday, September 15, 2011
It's Not So Much a Book as a Way of Life
(Caution!! There is at least one link in this post that is NSFW! or small children, or the faint of heart.)
So, here we are, 18 or 19 posts and three months into this blogging experiment. And it seems to be going pretty well. Only, we've over looked one teeny tiny little thing. Well, maybe not that little. More like big. That big thing is a novel called Outlander, by Diana Gabaldon. Outlander is a historical, science fiction, romance, action adventure novel that weighs in at a hefty 688 pages, and 2 1/2 pounds in the hardback version. Oh, did I mention it has (so far) six sequels? And they're all longer than the original? And there are three (soon to be four) shorter auxiliary novels that focus on one of the supporting characters? And two complementary short stories? And two novellas? And one (soon to be two) guides to help you keep straight all the who's, what's, where's, and when's? And a graphic novel? So, it's not so much a novel as a way of life.
Okay, so we haven't really told you anything that makes you want to actually read this epic? Allow me to give you a VERY brief synopsis of the story line. Essentially what we have is a WWII British battlefield nurse who gets transported back to the 18th century thanks to a circle of standing stones in Scotland. There is some confusion about where she is and how she got there, but basically she ends up married to a 22 year old Scottish virgin who cuts quite the handsome figure in his kilt. This all takes place in the run up to the Battle of Culloden, which destroyed the Scottish Highland way of life, and the clan system that sustained it. There is a little bit of back and forth to the twentieth century, but the focus of the last several sequels is basically the ever expanding circle of family that Jamie (the Scottish virgin) and Claire (the nurse) gather around themselves as their lives progress over the next thirty years. There is quite a bit of swashbuckling, a pleasing amount of history (including cameos by actual historical figures), lots of really well done character development, some laugh out loud twists and turns, and just enough steamy. . . . mmphmm to keep you turning page after page.
(There may or may not also exist a small homemade movie in which we spent many hours casting just the right celebrity to play each character of this beloved masterpiece, but you won't be seeing that here.)
One of us was introduced to the masterpiece by her mother, who was an avid consumer of audio books, and liked really loooonnnnnnggg audio books. This one of us regrets that it took us a couple of years to recommend it to the other half of the brain, but believe me when I tell you that it was a meeting of the minds (well, mind in our case).
This might qualify as the best book I've ever read (apologies to Pride and Prejudice), and I heartily recommend it to anyone I think might love it as much as I do, but I have to confess, I don't recommend it to everyone I know. I think I might actually be a little heartbroken if someone I recommended it to didn't like it. This is not a "beach read", it's not chick lit, or fluff. It's hard core. It's a commitment, and like most good commitments, it will repay you a thousand fold if you have the tenacity to see it through.
In case you have several weeks alone in a small igloo booked for this winter, or are planning a round the world plane trip and don't yet own an iPod, or if you're okay with basically ignoring your husband while you make your way through everything, here are the books, in order that they should be read. But please don't blame us if you open Outlander in November, and close An Echo in the Bone in March, and don't remember how you got there.
Original Canon:
These books are ancillary to the main body of work, but as the later sequels progress, they really do add some fascinating insight and backstory to several of the more important minor characters.
That's 20 books, and I would guess we're verging on 15,000 pages of writing (okay, I know, because I looked it up on Amazon, and that doesn't include unpublished works for which there is not yet a page count.). And every one of them worth it. This might take you a year, it might take you five years, you might race through it in 6 months, but you won't regret it. And believe me, and the millions of other readers who have made this series such a success, you will reread these again and again.
A.H. and A.V.
So, here we are, 18 or 19 posts and three months into this blogging experiment. And it seems to be going pretty well. Only, we've over looked one teeny tiny little thing. Well, maybe not that little. More like big. That big thing is a novel called Outlander, by Diana Gabaldon. Outlander is a historical, science fiction, romance, action adventure novel that weighs in at a hefty 688 pages, and 2 1/2 pounds in the hardback version. Oh, did I mention it has (so far) six sequels? And they're all longer than the original? And there are three (soon to be four) shorter auxiliary novels that focus on one of the supporting characters? And two complementary short stories? And two novellas? And one (soon to be two) guides to help you keep straight all the who's, what's, where's, and when's? And a graphic novel? So, it's not so much a novel as a way of life.
Okay, so we haven't really told you anything that makes you want to actually read this epic? Allow me to give you a VERY brief synopsis of the story line. Essentially what we have is a WWII British battlefield nurse who gets transported back to the 18th century thanks to a circle of standing stones in Scotland. There is some confusion about where she is and how she got there, but basically she ends up married to a 22 year old Scottish virgin who cuts quite the handsome figure in his kilt. This all takes place in the run up to the Battle of Culloden, which destroyed the Scottish Highland way of life, and the clan system that sustained it. There is a little bit of back and forth to the twentieth century, but the focus of the last several sequels is basically the ever expanding circle of family that Jamie (the Scottish virgin) and Claire (the nurse) gather around themselves as their lives progress over the next thirty years. There is quite a bit of swashbuckling, a pleasing amount of history (including cameos by actual historical figures), lots of really well done character development, some laugh out loud twists and turns, and just enough steamy. . . . mmphmm to keep you turning page after page.
(There may or may not also exist a small homemade movie in which we spent many hours casting just the right celebrity to play each character of this beloved masterpiece, but you won't be seeing that here.)
One of us was introduced to the masterpiece by her mother, who was an avid consumer of audio books, and liked really loooonnnnnnggg audio books. This one of us regrets that it took us a couple of years to recommend it to the other half of the brain, but believe me when I tell you that it was a meeting of the minds (well, mind in our case).
This might qualify as the best book I've ever read (apologies to Pride and Prejudice), and I heartily recommend it to anyone I think might love it as much as I do, but I have to confess, I don't recommend it to everyone I know. I think I might actually be a little heartbroken if someone I recommended it to didn't like it. This is not a "beach read", it's not chick lit, or fluff. It's hard core. It's a commitment, and like most good commitments, it will repay you a thousand fold if you have the tenacity to see it through.
In case you have several weeks alone in a small igloo booked for this winter, or are planning a round the world plane trip and don't yet own an iPod, or if you're okay with basically ignoring your husband while you make your way through everything, here are the books, in order that they should be read. But please don't blame us if you open Outlander in November, and close An Echo in the Bone in March, and don't remember how you got there.
Original Canon:
- Outlander
- Dragonfly in Amber
- Voyager
- Drums of Autumn
- The Fiery Cross
- A Breath of Snow and Ashes
- An Echo in the Bone
- also the tentatively titled Written with my Own Heart's Blood, slated for publication sometime in late 2012 (toooo long, toooo long!)
- The Exile, which is the graphic novel, and is basically a retelling of the events at the beginning of Outlander, from a different point of view. A point of view that includes several buff, naked Scottish behinds.
These books are ancillary to the main body of work, but as the later sequels progress, they really do add some fascinating insight and backstory to several of the more important minor characters.
- Lord John and the Private Matter
- Lord John and the Hand of Devils
- Lord John and the Brotherhood of the Blade
- Lord John and the Scottish Prisoner, to be released November 29th, that's roughly 80 days from now, but who's counting. Oh, wait, I am.
- "Lord John and the Custom of the Army", published as part of an anthology called Warriors, edited by George R.R. Martin and Gardner Dozois
- "Lord John and the Plague of Zombies", part of different Martin/Dozois compilation called Down These Strange Streets
- "A Leaf on the Wind of All Hallows", also part of a Martin/Dozois collection, Songs of Love and Death, this one does not deal with Lord John, but rather with the parents of one of the four main characters in Outlander, and helps solves some mysteries, although it leaves new ones wide open.
- "The Space Between", to be published (at an as yet unknown date) in an anthology called The Mad Scientist's Guide to World Domination edited by John Joseph Adams. This one involves the offspring of the primary family group in Outlander.
- The Outlandish Companion - a helpful guide to characters, the impenetrable Gaelic language, DG's writing process, and fascinating trivia about the books
- The Outlandish Companion, Vol. II - same as above but covering the more recent publications. This one does not have a publication date yet.
- And a Prequel, which doesn't have a title, or any other information other than that it exists in the authors mind, and is apparently part of her current book contract, so eventually (!!) we will get some insight into where our favorite characters came from.
That's 20 books, and I would guess we're verging on 15,000 pages of writing (okay, I know, because I looked it up on Amazon, and that doesn't include unpublished works for which there is not yet a page count.). And every one of them worth it. This might take you a year, it might take you five years, you might race through it in 6 months, but you won't regret it. And believe me, and the millions of other readers who have made this series such a success, you will reread these again and again.
A.H. and A.V.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Those Dead Fiances
I mentioned in my first monarchy post that there were two instances of brides who marry their dead fiancé’s brother. They are both equally fascinating stories, that take place centuries apart, and yet both had undeniable effect on the royal family and their descendants.
The first is Catherine of Aragon. The youngest daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella, the pre-eminent badasses of their time, was raised in the intense heat, sunshine and Catholicism of Spain, following her parents around the country on their campaign to drive the Muslim occupiers out of their country. Henry VII and his wife, Elizabeth of York, contracted for her marriage to their oldest son Arthur. Arthur was well educated, handsome, and according to legend, prepared to be the finest, most benevolent leader England had ever seen. But you don’t remember ever hearing about a real King Arthur? That’s because a few short months after their marriage, he died of a mysterious illness. So now Catherine is a widow, barely 16 years old, stranded in England, and what’s a girl to do? In her case, it’s to go to your nearest member of the clergy, insist that your marriage was never consummated (insert raised eyebrow here), and suggest that you would make a suitable bride for your dead husband’s younger brother, who is about eight years your junior, and possibly the most spoiled brat in all of Christendom. And it worked, mostly. She languished in obscurity, essentially held hostage for her dowry, for several years, while her in-laws hemmed and hawed, but then her father in law died and Henry VIII had the throne and he wanted her. At least for the first 20-ish years. And then, unfortunately, up popped Anne Boleyn. Catherine spent 24 years married to Henry VIII, but only had the one child, Mary, who would become Queen briefly as an adult. She had several miscarriages and stillbirths, which suggest to modern experts that she and Henry had an Rh (blood type) incompatibility. Catherine was a deeply devout Catholic, even for her time, and Henry’s attack on the Catholic Church hurt her in many ways. She refused to accept Henry’s ultimate judgment on their divorce, and eventually died at age 50, having not seen her daughter in over a decade, and still insisting that she was Henry’s rightful wife and the rightful Queen of England.
Of course, history tells us that Henry based his request for divorce on the fact that God had punished him for marrying his brother’s bride by refusing to grant them children. Clearly Catherine’s inability to successfully bear sons was a curse from above. I don’t know about you, but I have a hard time believing that Henry was as concerned with his immortal soul as he was with getting out of a marriage to an older woman, possibly one in the decline of her beauty and health. As a young man, his older brother’s adult, alluring older widow must have been incredibly attractive to him, conferring status and worldliness and making him seem like a serious Man. But the appeal of the eight year age advantage that she had likely diminished as he closed in on his forties, until, like many men of a certain age, his best chance to reclaim his youth lay in claiming a youthful woman. Anne Boleyn was everything Catherine wasn’t, flirtatious, frivolous, youthful, radiant, and possibly fertile. She didn’t pan out that well either, but Henry had refined his process for dealing with errant wives by then, and she was dispatched with greater speed, if slightly more mess.
I feel bad for Catherine, her first marriage and young adulthood was full of promise and possibility. And it ended so poorly for her. You have to wonder if she ever regretted her course after Arthur’s death? Would life have been better if she lived it in obscurity as the Dowager Princess of Wales? We’ll never know of course, but she had a pivotal role in the English Reformation, and our whole world would no doubt be different if she had.
The second fiancé is Princess Mary of Teck. Princess Mary, or May as she was known growing up, was a princess in her own right, born Her Serene Highness of the Kingdom of Wurttemburg, a small kingdom in the south of what is now Germany, though because of her father‘s marriage into a minor branch of the British royal family, she was brought up in the UK. She was selected as being the most suitable bride for the eldest son of the Prince of Wales. The ruler at the time was Queen Victoria, her son Bertie, who would become Edward VII was Prince of Wales, and his eldest son, May’s intended, was Prince Albert Victor, named for his redoubtable grandfather. May was the perfect Victorian bride, sweet, well educated (in the proper subjects, only, of course, so lots of French and embroidery, no calculus or typing), and most importantly, of good breeding (being related to the British Royal family through her mother, and a distant cousin of the groom) and verifiable virtue. But Albert Victor contracted pneumonia and died. So now we have a Princess with no prince. Queen Victoria was reportedly very fond of Princess May, and still believed her to be a fitting bride for the future king of England, so after a suitable mourning period she married the second son instead. He went on to become King George V, and by all accounts they were very much in love.
Queen Mary (this is the Queen Mary after which they named the ship) was another formidable Queen. The pictures of her in middle age especially do suggest something vaguely ocean liner-y about her.
She sat on the throne alongside that second son for 26 years, and lived an additional 17 after his death as the formidable grandmother and eventually great grandmother of the House of Windsor. In fact, it is during her tenure as Queen that the Royal Family officially changes it’s surname from Saxe-Coburg-Gothe, a thoroughly German name inherited from Victoria’s husband, Prince Albert, to the much more properly British Windsor, chosen for their favorite palace and family home. George V didn’t think that Saxe Coburg Gothe struck quite the right tone whilst trying to defeat Der Kaiser. That Der Kaiser was his cousin didn't seem to factor.
Mary had six children, two of whom were King of England. She was crowned Queen Consort at the coronation of her husband in Westminster Abbey in 1911. The following year George and Mary traveled to India for what was known as “The Delhi Durbar”. They were crowned Emperor and Empress of India while there. I have only seen a few vaguely blurry pictures of this event, but I imagine it had to be just about the most jewel encrusted, hoity toity celebration of the oppression of an entire subcontinent you’ve ever seen.
The Durbar was held to celebrate the coronation of a new monarch, and George and Mary were the only monarch’s ever to attend their’s in person. The Durbar only happened three times, once in 1877 for Victoria at the time the British government assumed control in India from the British East India Company. The second one was held for Edward VII’s ascension in 1903, and this was the third and final occurrence. George V’s son Edward VIII was never officially crowned, and by the time his brother George VI was crowned, political feeling in India precluded any such show boating. Elizabeth II ascended the throne after India gained independence, so no Durbar for her either.
Mary’s story has a much happier end than Catherine’s does. She did suffer tragedy in her life, her youngest son, John, suffered epilepsy and was sent to live a quiet life in the country. Her eldest son, known familiarly as David, became King Edward VIII upon her husband’s death, but was never crowned as he fled his obligation to family and state to marry Wallis Simpson, and Bertie, or more properly, George VI, took the throne (insert events of “The King’s Speech” here). Queen Mary lived to be 86 years old, lending her genes to the cause of the current Queen’s longevity, no doubt. Genes are not the only thing she gave her granddaughter. Elizabeth II’s ideas about duty and honor to the state and her family come, in large part, from her Grandmother and her observations of that great lady’s example.
I wonder if either of these women ever contemplated just going home and finding some nice domestically bred nobleman to marry? And if they did, would they even have been allowed to? Neither of the original marriages were a love match. The women fit a set of criteria and their families contracted their futures as political pawns. They surely made the best of a bad situation, trying to be true to themselves while finding the silver lining, and really, being Queen of England is pretty good lining.
A short note about Catherine of Aragon’s assertion of her virginity after Arthur died. Legend has it that upon departing her chamber after the wedding night Arthur remarked to his courtiers that he was famished, having just “spent the night in Spain”. Now, this might be showboating from a young man wanting to impress his peers, and if they really failed to consummate their marriage he certainly wouldn’t want to admit that to a bunch of other young men, because surely packs of twenty something guys haven’t changed that much since then, but it does cast doubt on Catherine’s story. Also, doesn’t the phrase “spent the night in Spain” sum up Catherine’s purpose pretty succinctly? If ever there was a better description of a political marriage, I haven’t heard it.
A.H.
The first is Catherine of Aragon. The youngest daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella, the pre-eminent badasses of their time, was raised in the intense heat, sunshine and Catholicism of Spain, following her parents around the country on their campaign to drive the Muslim occupiers out of their country. Henry VII and his wife, Elizabeth of York, contracted for her marriage to their oldest son Arthur. Arthur was well educated, handsome, and according to legend, prepared to be the finest, most benevolent leader England had ever seen. But you don’t remember ever hearing about a real King Arthur? That’s because a few short months after their marriage, he died of a mysterious illness. So now Catherine is a widow, barely 16 years old, stranded in England, and what’s a girl to do? In her case, it’s to go to your nearest member of the clergy, insist that your marriage was never consummated (insert raised eyebrow here), and suggest that you would make a suitable bride for your dead husband’s younger brother, who is about eight years your junior, and possibly the most spoiled brat in all of Christendom. And it worked, mostly. She languished in obscurity, essentially held hostage for her dowry, for several years, while her in-laws hemmed and hawed, but then her father in law died and Henry VIII had the throne and he wanted her. At least for the first 20-ish years. And then, unfortunately, up popped Anne Boleyn. Catherine spent 24 years married to Henry VIII, but only had the one child, Mary, who would become Queen briefly as an adult. She had several miscarriages and stillbirths, which suggest to modern experts that she and Henry had an Rh (blood type) incompatibility. Catherine was a deeply devout Catholic, even for her time, and Henry’s attack on the Catholic Church hurt her in many ways. She refused to accept Henry’s ultimate judgment on their divorce, and eventually died at age 50, having not seen her daughter in over a decade, and still insisting that she was Henry’s rightful wife and the rightful Queen of England.
Of course, history tells us that Henry based his request for divorce on the fact that God had punished him for marrying his brother’s bride by refusing to grant them children. Clearly Catherine’s inability to successfully bear sons was a curse from above. I don’t know about you, but I have a hard time believing that Henry was as concerned with his immortal soul as he was with getting out of a marriage to an older woman, possibly one in the decline of her beauty and health. As a young man, his older brother’s adult, alluring older widow must have been incredibly attractive to him, conferring status and worldliness and making him seem like a serious Man. But the appeal of the eight year age advantage that she had likely diminished as he closed in on his forties, until, like many men of a certain age, his best chance to reclaim his youth lay in claiming a youthful woman. Anne Boleyn was everything Catherine wasn’t, flirtatious, frivolous, youthful, radiant, and possibly fertile. She didn’t pan out that well either, but Henry had refined his process for dealing with errant wives by then, and she was dispatched with greater speed, if slightly more mess.
I feel bad for Catherine, her first marriage and young adulthood was full of promise and possibility. And it ended so poorly for her. You have to wonder if she ever regretted her course after Arthur’s death? Would life have been better if she lived it in obscurity as the Dowager Princess of Wales? We’ll never know of course, but she had a pivotal role in the English Reformation, and our whole world would no doubt be different if she had.
The second fiancé is Princess Mary of Teck. Princess Mary, or May as she was known growing up, was a princess in her own right, born Her Serene Highness of the Kingdom of Wurttemburg, a small kingdom in the south of what is now Germany, though because of her father‘s marriage into a minor branch of the British royal family, she was brought up in the UK. She was selected as being the most suitable bride for the eldest son of the Prince of Wales. The ruler at the time was Queen Victoria, her son Bertie, who would become Edward VII was Prince of Wales, and his eldest son, May’s intended, was Prince Albert Victor, named for his redoubtable grandfather. May was the perfect Victorian bride, sweet, well educated (in the proper subjects, only, of course, so lots of French and embroidery, no calculus or typing), and most importantly, of good breeding (being related to the British Royal family through her mother, and a distant cousin of the groom) and verifiable virtue. But Albert Victor contracted pneumonia and died. So now we have a Princess with no prince. Queen Victoria was reportedly very fond of Princess May, and still believed her to be a fitting bride for the future king of England, so after a suitable mourning period she married the second son instead. He went on to become King George V, and by all accounts they were very much in love.
Queen Mary (this is the Queen Mary after which they named the ship) was another formidable Queen. The pictures of her in middle age especially do suggest something vaguely ocean liner-y about her.
She sat on the throne alongside that second son for 26 years, and lived an additional 17 after his death as the formidable grandmother and eventually great grandmother of the House of Windsor. In fact, it is during her tenure as Queen that the Royal Family officially changes it’s surname from Saxe-Coburg-Gothe, a thoroughly German name inherited from Victoria’s husband, Prince Albert, to the much more properly British Windsor, chosen for their favorite palace and family home. George V didn’t think that Saxe Coburg Gothe struck quite the right tone whilst trying to defeat Der Kaiser. That Der Kaiser was his cousin didn't seem to factor.
Mary had six children, two of whom were King of England. She was crowned Queen Consort at the coronation of her husband in Westminster Abbey in 1911. The following year George and Mary traveled to India for what was known as “The Delhi Durbar”. They were crowned Emperor and Empress of India while there. I have only seen a few vaguely blurry pictures of this event, but I imagine it had to be just about the most jewel encrusted, hoity toity celebration of the oppression of an entire subcontinent you’ve ever seen.
The Durbar was held to celebrate the coronation of a new monarch, and George and Mary were the only monarch’s ever to attend their’s in person. The Durbar only happened three times, once in 1877 for Victoria at the time the British government assumed control in India from the British East India Company. The second one was held for Edward VII’s ascension in 1903, and this was the third and final occurrence. George V’s son Edward VIII was never officially crowned, and by the time his brother George VI was crowned, political feeling in India precluded any such show boating. Elizabeth II ascended the throne after India gained independence, so no Durbar for her either.
Mary’s story has a much happier end than Catherine’s does. She did suffer tragedy in her life, her youngest son, John, suffered epilepsy and was sent to live a quiet life in the country. Her eldest son, known familiarly as David, became King Edward VIII upon her husband’s death, but was never crowned as he fled his obligation to family and state to marry Wallis Simpson, and Bertie, or more properly, George VI, took the throne (insert events of “The King’s Speech” here). Queen Mary lived to be 86 years old, lending her genes to the cause of the current Queen’s longevity, no doubt. Genes are not the only thing she gave her granddaughter. Elizabeth II’s ideas about duty and honor to the state and her family come, in large part, from her Grandmother and her observations of that great lady’s example.
I wonder if either of these women ever contemplated just going home and finding some nice domestically bred nobleman to marry? And if they did, would they even have been allowed to? Neither of the original marriages were a love match. The women fit a set of criteria and their families contracted their futures as political pawns. They surely made the best of a bad situation, trying to be true to themselves while finding the silver lining, and really, being Queen of England is pretty good lining.
A short note about Catherine of Aragon’s assertion of her virginity after Arthur died. Legend has it that upon departing her chamber after the wedding night Arthur remarked to his courtiers that he was famished, having just “spent the night in Spain”. Now, this might be showboating from a young man wanting to impress his peers, and if they really failed to consummate their marriage he certainly wouldn’t want to admit that to a bunch of other young men, because surely packs of twenty something guys haven’t changed that much since then, but it does cast doubt on Catherine’s story. Also, doesn’t the phrase “spent the night in Spain” sum up Catherine’s purpose pretty succinctly? If ever there was a better description of a political marriage, I haven’t heard it.
A.H.
Friday, June 3, 2011
The British Monarchy
Willie, Willie, Harry Stee,
Harry, Dick, John, Harry three;
One, two, three Neds, Richard two
Harrys four, five, six... then who?
Edwards four, five, Dick the bad,
Harrys twain and Ned the Lad;
Mary, Bessie, James the Vain,
Charlie, Charlie, James again...
William and Mary, Anna Gloria,
Four Georges, William and Victoria;
Edward seven next, and then
George the fifth in 1910;
Ned the eighth soon abdicated
Then George the sixth was coronated;
After which Elizabeth
And that's the end until her death.
That little ditty (sung to the tune of “Good King Wenceslaus) is a mnemonic device to help British schoolchildren (all of whom I assume are now eighty year olds who watch the BBC and drink tea) memorize the Monarchs of Great Britain. I find it very amusing, and also helpful, since I am, of course, TOTALLY OBSESSED with the monarchy.
I trace my obsession back to the death of Princess Diana (yeah, I know, cliché), but I was fourteen, and I clearly remember my mom waking me up for school and telling me she died, and then getting up at like four am to watch the funeral. I’m pretty sure my mom and I watched it on the TV in the basement, but I don’t know why.
The more I read and the more I learned the more fascinated I became. The sheer amount of coincidence that had to occur for any one of these individuals to become king or queen is really mind boggling when you realize. The machinations and marriages and amount of look-the-other-way-winky collusion that went on is amazing.
The relevance of the British Throne is debatable, and better minds than I have weighed in. I am not out to convince anybody, it’s just that it’s so interesting. This isn’t just the history of a boring political institution, it has murder, sex, intrigue, unsolved disappearances, incest, fiancés who marry their dead beloved’s brother (not once, but twice), child kings, usurpers,, imposters, and Margaret Beaufort, who is the woman from whom Henry VIII inherited the intestinal fortitude to tell the Catholic Church to kiss his ass.
I won’t bore you by enumerating each point, but let me just tell you one short tale that makes me giggle from the annals of the British Throne
My favorite “character” of British monarchical history is Eleanor of Aquitaine. She was the daughter of a MAJOR landholder (the Duke of Aquitaine) and lord in what is now France. Her grandfather, William IX the Troubadour, was the central guy during the middle ages in all things “chivalry”. And she was brought up in his court. During most of her childhood the Troubadour’s mistress was her grandmother, her other grandmother. Her paternal grandfather KIDNAPPED her maternal grandmother and installed her in his castle as his paramour. For which he was excommunicated by Rome (for the second time). She inherited the Duchy when her father died, thus making her a REALLY good catch for a variety of nobles and kings across western Europe. She married the King of France, Louis VII. They were related by blood, but that was not uncommon, in the least. They were married for 15 years before they were granted an annulment because they were too closely related. Eleanor turned around and married Henry II (Plantagenet), who was EVEN MORE CLOSELY RELATED to her than Louis. This is what I mean about head turning-winky crap. She is the mother of Richard the Lionheart and King John, the one portrayed as a snake in the great Disney classic, Robin Hood. If you saw the Russell Crowe Robin Hood, she was portrayed, I thought, quite well. She lived in the 12th century, and participated in the Second Crusade while married to Louis. Oh, and while there she was rumored to have had a torrid love affair with her much older Uncle. The story goes that she and her ladies in waiting rode off to that Crusade dressed as Amazons.
She is described in historical accounts as being uncommonly beautiful. She was also incredibly tough. She survived a decade of imprisonment in various castles and abbeys at the hands of her husband and then her sons. She is the reason why England and France went to war so many time between then and now, or at least a good part of it. See, her marriage agreement with Louis said that her lands in Aquitaine and Poitiers went to her children, males first, as independent from France. Eleanor and Louis had two children, both girls, so her sons by Henry II inherited Aquitaine and Poitiers, making the King of England a major French landholder and a vassal of the King of France. I don’t even like typing the word vassal, much less being one. So you can imagine how someone with a title like King of England might chafe.
I, for one, do not typically think of women from the pre-modern era as being wily or clever or much in a position of being able to fend for themselves, but Eleanor really put her mark on things.
We see the British monarchy on TV, or in pictures on the web, and most of them look so staid and upper crust. So many stiff upper lips it’s amazing sometimes that they are even capable of cracking a smile. But that is just the face they put on for the public. Underneath what we see is a real family with a long and storied history that has more excitement and intrigue than you or I can even imagine. The fact that they have kept their throne for a thousand years is something to be admired, I think, or at least investigated. I hope that you will find some of the stories they’ve lived as interesting as I do.
AH
Harry, Dick, John, Harry three;
One, two, three Neds, Richard two
Harrys four, five, six... then who?
Edwards four, five, Dick the bad,
Harrys twain and Ned the Lad;
Mary, Bessie, James the Vain,
Charlie, Charlie, James again...
William and Mary, Anna Gloria,
Four Georges, William and Victoria;
Edward seven next, and then
George the fifth in 1910;
Ned the eighth soon abdicated
Then George the sixth was coronated;
After which Elizabeth
And that's the end until her death.
That little ditty (sung to the tune of “Good King Wenceslaus) is a mnemonic device to help British schoolchildren (all of whom I assume are now eighty year olds who watch the BBC and drink tea) memorize the Monarchs of Great Britain. I find it very amusing, and also helpful, since I am, of course, TOTALLY OBSESSED with the monarchy.
I trace my obsession back to the death of Princess Diana (yeah, I know, cliché), but I was fourteen, and I clearly remember my mom waking me up for school and telling me she died, and then getting up at like four am to watch the funeral. I’m pretty sure my mom and I watched it on the TV in the basement, but I don’t know why.
The more I read and the more I learned the more fascinated I became. The sheer amount of coincidence that had to occur for any one of these individuals to become king or queen is really mind boggling when you realize. The machinations and marriages and amount of look-the-other-way-winky collusion that went on is amazing.
The relevance of the British Throne is debatable, and better minds than I have weighed in. I am not out to convince anybody, it’s just that it’s so interesting. This isn’t just the history of a boring political institution, it has murder, sex, intrigue, unsolved disappearances, incest, fiancés who marry their dead beloved’s brother (not once, but twice), child kings, usurpers,, imposters, and Margaret Beaufort, who is the woman from whom Henry VIII inherited the intestinal fortitude to tell the Catholic Church to kiss his ass.
I won’t bore you by enumerating each point, but let me just tell you one short tale that makes me giggle from the annals of the British Throne
My favorite “character” of British monarchical history is Eleanor of Aquitaine. She was the daughter of a MAJOR landholder (the Duke of Aquitaine) and lord in what is now France. Her grandfather, William IX the Troubadour, was the central guy during the middle ages in all things “chivalry”. And she was brought up in his court. During most of her childhood the Troubadour’s mistress was her grandmother, her other grandmother. Her paternal grandfather KIDNAPPED her maternal grandmother and installed her in his castle as his paramour. For which he was excommunicated by Rome (for the second time). She inherited the Duchy when her father died, thus making her a REALLY good catch for a variety of nobles and kings across western Europe. She married the King of France, Louis VII. They were related by blood, but that was not uncommon, in the least. They were married for 15 years before they were granted an annulment because they were too closely related. Eleanor turned around and married Henry II (Plantagenet), who was EVEN MORE CLOSELY RELATED to her than Louis. This is what I mean about head turning-winky crap. She is the mother of Richard the Lionheart and King John, the one portrayed as a snake in the great Disney classic, Robin Hood. If you saw the Russell Crowe Robin Hood, she was portrayed, I thought, quite well. She lived in the 12th century, and participated in the Second Crusade while married to Louis. Oh, and while there she was rumored to have had a torrid love affair with her much older Uncle. The story goes that she and her ladies in waiting rode off to that Crusade dressed as Amazons.
She is described in historical accounts as being uncommonly beautiful. She was also incredibly tough. She survived a decade of imprisonment in various castles and abbeys at the hands of her husband and then her sons. She is the reason why England and France went to war so many time between then and now, or at least a good part of it. See, her marriage agreement with Louis said that her lands in Aquitaine and Poitiers went to her children, males first, as independent from France. Eleanor and Louis had two children, both girls, so her sons by Henry II inherited Aquitaine and Poitiers, making the King of England a major French landholder and a vassal of the King of France. I don’t even like typing the word vassal, much less being one. So you can imagine how someone with a title like King of England might chafe.
I, for one, do not typically think of women from the pre-modern era as being wily or clever or much in a position of being able to fend for themselves, but Eleanor really put her mark on things.
We see the British monarchy on TV, or in pictures on the web, and most of them look so staid and upper crust. So many stiff upper lips it’s amazing sometimes that they are even capable of cracking a smile. But that is just the face they put on for the public. Underneath what we see is a real family with a long and storied history that has more excitement and intrigue than you or I can even imagine. The fact that they have kept their throne for a thousand years is something to be admired, I think, or at least investigated. I hope that you will find some of the stories they’ve lived as interesting as I do.
AH
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