496 pages, Harper,
ISBN-13: 978-0061430763
She-Wolves: The Women
Who Ruled England Before Elizabeth
by Helen Castor examines the lives of four women who were given the unenviable
task of ruling in a man’s world. First of all, don’t be put off by the first
section, seeing as it starts off with…Elizabeth Tudor. I know, right? But this
actually makes sense, as it really seemed to set the tone of the book quite
nicely and made the ending come back, full circle, to the Tudors. Throughout
this multibiography of these unique women, Castor’s core argument is that,
although not sole monarchs in the way that Mary and Elizabeth Tudor were, these
four women were able to use their positions as family members and royal consorts
to significantly influence and, to varying degrees, direct royal policy (to be
honest, none appear as especially attractive in a power political sense, and all
are ruthless in pursuing their aims and very capable of double-crossing and
breaking promises). Tenacity seems to be another ability that they had by the
bucket load. The Middle Ages were not for sissies. A further point that Castor
makes is that, by the time the Tudor state came into being, conditions had
changed sufficiently to weather the types of upsets that earlier would not have
tolerated a woman ruler on her own. You’ve come a long way, babies.
Our
first she-wolf is The Empress Matilda, daughter of King Henry I and widow of
the Holy Roman Emperor Henry V, later the mother of the eventual King Henry II.
Matilda is one of those queens who is hard to find any material on, as there
are so few books or articles about her, either contemporaneous or latter. The
heir to the throne after the death of her brother William, she saw that throne
taken away from her by her cousin Stephen, which in turn caused Matilda to take
up arms to fight for what was rightfully hers. Matilda’s civil war didn’t fail
necessarily, as her son Henry ended up on her throne. I did like reading about
Matilda and am glad that she was included in this book, as she is one of
history’s greatest the forgotten queens.
Next
comes Eleanor of Aquitaine, ruler in her own right of the Duchy of Aquitaine
and wife, first, of King Louis VII of France and then, later, of King Henry II.
I didn’t much like Eleanor’s portion of the book; oh, it was well written and
complete – more so than Matilda’s – but it just seemed to unbalance the whole.
There was probably no way around this, though seeing we know a lot more about
Eleanor than Matilda, and that Eleanor ruled and reigned for so long. Eleanor’s
word just comes across the pages and it is very clear about how strong of a
woman she is, and while I would have liked to have more on her and Richard’s
relationship, I did like this little summary of her. I have read two biographies
on Eleanor – Eleanor of Aquitaine: The
Mother Queen by Desmond Seward (reviewed on August 4, 2018) and Eleanor of Aquitaine: A Life by Alison
Weir (reviewed on May 1, 2019) – and am still searching for one that does her
justice.
She-wolf
number three in the original she-wolf, Isabella of France, wife of King Edward
II and later the mother of the eventual King Edward III. She was a very interesting
character, the queen who is treated as if she is in the way of her own marriage.
Her husband just kind of put her to the side and forgot about her as he pranced
about with his (male) favorites. So, what does she do? Naturally, she and her
lover Roger Mortimer stage a little rebellion and kills a few people. That’s
all. I have to say, though, that after reading what a hash Ed the deuce made
of…well, everything, I found myself having far more sympathy towards she-wolf
Izzy than before; certainly her son Edward “Hey! I founded The Most Noble Order
of the Garter!” III seemed to forgive and forget – and to rule nothing like his
dad.
Our
fourth she-wolf is Margaret of Anjou, wife of King Henry VI and, perhaps, the
most put-upon of them all, married to a simpleton while fighting a civil war,
to boot. Most of what I knew about her comes from the not-too-sympathetic
portrayal of her in Shakespeare’s history plays, so the steely, determined
woman presented here was rather a revelation. Her husband was mentally weak and
she found herself, more often than not, ruling in his name. She tried to keep
it together, but sadness was all there was. She tried so hard to hold onto the
kingdom for her husband and king and their son, only to be put to the side. She
was forced to return to Anjou – a widow who lost her only child – without any recognition
of what she had done, then or now. Really, this woman’s life is a decades-long
tragedy that deserves a Lifetime movie to do it justice.
Lastly,
we come to Mary I, the first of the lot who inherited and ruled England in her
own right, sometimes known simply as Mary Tudor and, less respectfully, as
Bloody Mary. Try as she might, she could neither conceive a child nor return
England to the Catholic fold. As usual, the Mary presented by Castor is mighty
more sympathetic than the Mary one may be more familiar with from
Protestant-leaning history books. Unable to do right by her discarded mother or
faith, we see a sad creature attempting to stem the tide of a newborn world while
attempting to resurrect a dead one, all while her supernova little sister
awaits her demise from the wings. Really, it takes a good author indeed to make
one feel sympathy for Bloody Mary.
Each
of the five women are given a straight-up narrative which takes the reader from
post-Conquest England to the advent of the Tudor monarchy. Castor doesn’t try
to provide a complete linear view of the eras in question, but the periods
examined do coincide with some of the most significant episodes of royal
history during the period – and make no mistake it is Royal History, the focus being
on the power politics of those in control with virtually no mention being made
of anyone else or any other class. This is not a fault of the author, but a
clear indication of the reality of Medieval Europe where, when its male monarchs
had personal and political failings, the country was generally thrown into
crisis which included baronial strife, conquest and counter-conquest with the
obvious destruction of crops, villages and property of those not considered by
those leading armies to restore Order.
As
to why these women had the influence that they did, one need only look at the
men they contested power with: Stephen was probably too soft for the age; Henry
II was a bull in a China shop while Richard and John were shits in their own
ways; Edward II had a knack of choosing male friends who antagonized his lords;
Henry VI was an ineffectual simpleton. In each case a “she-wolf” arose to fill
the power vacuum – some more successfully than others. While the early chapter
on Matilda suffers from a lack of primary material and some weak assumptions,
the other chapters each get stronger and, even having read other authors on
these reigns, I found plenty of new stuff to keep me interested. By the end of She-Wolves you can’t help feeling that,
had any of these women been born in a later, more enlightened age, they would
have done just fine raising hell all on their own.
