European History – Page 3 – History… the interesting bits!

Bitter Enemies: The Empress and the Queen

12/07/202514/07/2025Sharon Bennett Connolly5 Comments

Books by Sharon Bennett Connolly — *Margaret of Wessex, Queen of Scots*

The time commonly referred to as the Anarchy is one of the most violent and unstable periods of English history. Lasting almost the entirety of the reign of King Stephen, it truly was a Cousin’s War. The two main protagonists, King Stephen and Empress Matilda, were first cousins, both being grandchildren of William the Conqueror and his queen, Matilda of Flanders. What is perhaps less well known is that Empress Matilda was also first cousin to Stephen’s wife and queen, Matilda of Boulogne. The two Matilda’s were both granddaughters of Margaret of Wessex, Queen of Scots as the wife of Malcolm III Canmore. And later St Margaret. It is through Margaret that the namesake cousins could claim descent from Alfred the Great.

The origins to the Anarchy can be traced back to one dramatic and tragic event: the sinking of the White Ship in 1120. This saw the drowning of the only legitimate son and heir of King Henry I, William Ætheling (or Adelin). The young man was 17 years old at the time, recently married, and his father’s pride and joy. His death gave rise to a constitutional crisis which the widowed Henry I sought to resolve by his speedy marriage to the teenage Adeliza of Louvain, in the hope of begetting yet more sons. Although he was getting on in years at roughly fifty-two, and had only two legitimate children, his brood of more than twenty illegitimate, but acknowledged, offspring gave him cause for optimism.

However, as the years progressed and no children were born, Henry had to look to other ways of resolving the succession crisis. In the years since the death of his son, the king had taken his nephew Stephen of Blois under his wing, showering him with gifts and land, and arranging the young man’s marriage. Stephen was the son of Henry’s highly capable sister Adela of Normandy, Countess of Blois and Stephen, Count of Blois, who had been killed on Crusade. The younger Stephen was created Count of Mortain and married to Matilda of Boulogne, the only child and heiress of Eustace of Boulogne and Mary of Scotland. It is possible that Henry was showing Stephen such favouritism in anticipation of not producing an heir by his new wife and was grooming Stephen to succeed him.

However, the death of his daughter’s husband, Emperor Henry V, in faraway Germany offered Henry an alternative to his nephew. Better still, here was an opportunity to put his own blood on the throne. Shortly after the German emperor’s death in 1125, Henry recalled Empress Matilda to England. She had been sent to Germany at the age of seven, to be raised at the court of the emperor in anticipation of their marriage when she came of age. Matilda had married Henry in 1114, a month before her twelfth birthday. Although she and Henry were married for eleven years, they remained childless. When Henry died in 1125, Henry I of England therefore saw an opportunity to resolve his succession problem by recalling Matilda and making her his heir.

There was one problem with this plan: Matilda was a woman. Henry knew his barons would not be happy with the idea of being ruled by a woman, but by a process of coercion and persuasion he managed to get all his barons to swear to accept her as their next monarch. Following Matilda’s arrival in England in 1126, Henry proceeded to extract oaths of allegiance to her from all the bishops and magnates present at his Christmas court. Notably, this included Stephen of Blois, Count of Mortain, King Henry’s nephew and the empress’s cousin. One of the concessions made to the barons was that they would have a say in Matilda’s choice of husband. After all, as a woman, Matilda would need a husband to rule in her name. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle reported:

David the king of Scots was there, and all the head [men], clerical and lay, that were in England; and there he [Henry] had archbishops, and bishops, and abbots, and earls, and all those thegns who were there, swear England and Normandy after his day into the hand of his daughter Æthelic [Matilda], who was earlier wife of the emperor of Saxony; and afterwards sent her to Normandy (and with her travelled her brother Robert, Earl of Gloucester, and Brian, son of the earl Alan Fergant), and had her wedded to the son of the Earl of Anjou, [who] was called Geoffrey Martel [Plantagenet]. Despite the fact that it offended all the French and English, the king did it in order to have peace from the Earl of Anjou and in order to have help against William his nephew.¹

In trying to resolve the issue of who would rule after him, Henry had inadvertently created a problem that ensured the succession would be anything but smooth. He had created two rivals for the throne. His daughter had the claim that she was Henry’s successor by blood, but she was a woman. Though his blood claim was weaker, Stephen was Henry’s closest living male relative, and in the days when a king not only had to rule but had to lead his men into battle, the prospect of a female ruler struck fear into the hearts of the barons.

Empress Matilda’s actual abilities mattered less than the fact of her gender. Raised at the German imperial court, Matilda was an experienced politician who had acted as regent for her first husband on several occasions. She was confident. She knew, beyond doubt, that she was capable of ruling in her own right. This confidence was her strength but also her weakness; the barons would surely baulk at the idea of a woman who was unwilling to take instruction from them. In contrast, King Stephen was a magnate who was experienced in war and had enjoyed the favour of King Henry I.

Stephen’s wife, Matilda of Boulogne, was a stalwart supporter of her husband. She was arguably more capable than Stephen and often took the initiative in diplomatic negotiations. Acting as Stephen’s queen, she offered a stark contrast to the independence and authority of Empress Matilda that so infuriated the barons. Matilda of Boulogne was a little more subtle than her imperious counterpart, only ever acting in her husband’s name, not her own. Even later, when she held the command of Stephen’s forces during his captivity in 1141, she claimed to act only on behalf of her husband and sons.

Matilda of Boulogne was an example of how a woman was expected to act and comport herself: strong and confident, but subject to her husband’s will. On this last, Empress Matilda failed in the eyes of the barons; she was acting for herself. In the event, the barons of England and Normandy despised her second husband, Geoffrey of Anjou, so they would have been even less receptive to Matilda had her husband tried to assert his authority. It was a conundrum that Matilda was never able to resolve, though she would not give up trying.

And the empress was, ultimately, the winner. With Stephen’s death in 1154, the last flickers of conflict also died. The empress’s oldest son succeeded as Henry II, peacefully and largely unopposed, despite the continued presence of Stephen’s son, William of Blois. Support for William was non-existent, and the war-weary barons were more than happy with the settlement. For Empress Matilda, it must have been a bittersweet moment. She had spent most of the past nineteen years fighting for her birthright and that of her son. While she had never worn the crown, Henry now did. The line of succession had finally passed into the hands of the descendants of Henry I.

Her bloodline had prevailed, but King Stephen had denied Empress Matilda her inheritance, her titles and her due. The irony of this struggle is that, in order to claim the throne, Stephen overruled the same laws of inheritance that saw him become Count of Boulogne. While it was difficult for a woman to manage her own lands and titles, they descended through her to her husband or son. So, as the county of Boulogne was inherited by Queen Matilda, so Stephen held those titles by right of his wife. And this was the dilemma for the Anglo-Norman nobility, and the reason they largely chose to support Stephen: they were suspicious and distrusting of the husband chosen for Empress Matilda. Just like Stephen, Geoffrey of Anjou had every right to claim Matilda’s lands as his own. Not the Geoffrey showed any interest in England; his sights were firmly set on Normandy, which he had conquered by 1144 and handed to his son, Henry in 1150.

The similarities between Empress and Queen are more noticeable than their differences. Both women demonstrated a level of piety which can only have come from their family connection, namely their mutual descent from Margaret of Wessex, Queen of Scots and later saint. Each Matilda was willing to do whatever it took to protect the interests of her children. Queen Matilda appealed to the empress to protect her son Eustace’s inheritance, while the empress invaded England. It is easy to see the empress’s struggle as an expression of her personal ambition to recover the inheritance stolen from her.

Yet it is necessary to look deeper and acknowledge that she was also motivated to see her son achieve his birthright. When Stephen usurped her throne, he stole it not just from Matilda but also from Henry. Calling himself Henry Fitz Empress when he joined his mother’s struggle, Henry was the grandson and eventual heir of Henry I. He had been raised to believe that England and Normandy were his destiny, and with the knowledge that his mother was absent for much of his formative years because she was fighting for his inheritance as much as hers.

Both empress and queen were adept at negotiating to achieve their aims, demonstrating impressive diplomatic skills in the most difficult of circumstances. Neither was prepared to sit on the sidelines and let others fight their battles for them. Although they could not wield a sword, nor participate in warfare, neither did they sit and wait in the safety of their ivory towers. They travelled with the armies and participated in councils of war, advising, directing and commanding their forces.

Empress Matilda and Queen Matilda had so much more in common than a name. Indeed, there was more to uniting them than pitting them against one another, be it family ties, abilities or aspirations for their children. What really differentiated them was the way they went about achieving their aims.

Dynastic ambition was a fine line for a woman to walk…

The story of Empress Matilda and Queen Matilda of Boulogne is examined in greater detail in my book, Women of the Anarchy.

Notes:

1. Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, edited by Michael Swanton

Sources:

Gesta Stephani, translated by K. R. Potter; Henry of Huntingdon, The History of the English People 1000-1154; Marjorie Chibnall, The Empress Matilda: Queen Consort, Queen Mother and Lady of the English; Teresa Cole, The Anarchy: The Darkest Days of Medieval England; Catherine Hanley, Matilda: Empress, Queen, Warrior; Helen Castor, She-Wolves: The Women who Ruled England before Elizabeth; Robert Bartlett, England Under the Norman and Angevin Kings; J. Sharpe (trans.), The History of the Kings of England and of his Own Times by William Malmesbury; Orderici Vitalis, Historiae ecclesiasticae libri tredecem, translated by Auguste Le Prévost; Chronicles of the Reigns of Stephen, Henry II and Richard I; Edmund King, King Stephen; Donald Matthew, King Stephen; Matthew Lewis, Stephen and Matilda’s Civil War: Cousins of Anarchy.

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My Books

Signed, dedicated copies of all my books are available through my online bookshop.

Out now: Scotland’s Medieval Queens

Scotland’s history is dramatic, violent and bloody. Being England’s northern neighbour has never been easy. Scotland’s queens have had to deal with war, murder, imprisonment, political rivalries and open betrayal. They have loved and lost, raised kings and queens, ruled and died for Scotland. From St Margaret, who became one of the patron saints of Scotland, to Elizabeth de Burgh and the dramatic story of the Scottish Wars of Independence, to the love story and tragedy of Joan Beaufort, to Margaret of Denmark and the dawn of the Renaissance, Scotland’s Medieval Queens have seen it all. This is the story of Scotland through their eyes.

‘Scotland’s Medieval Queens gives a thorough grounding in the history of the women who ruled Scotland at the side of its kings, often in the shadows, but just as interesting in their lives beyond the spotlight. It’s not a subject that has been widely covered, and Sharon is a pioneer in bringing that information into accessible history.’ Elizabeth Chadwick (New York Times bestselling author)

Available now from Amazon and Pen and Sword Books

Also by Sharon Bennett Connolly:

Heroines of the Tudor World tells the stories of the most remarkable women from European history in the time of the Tudor dynasty, 1485-1603. These are the women who ruled, the women who founded dynasties, the women who fought for religious freedom, their families and love. Heroines of the Tudor World is now available for pre-order from Amberley Publishing and Amazon UK. Women of the Anarchy demonstrates how Empress Matilda and Matilda of Boulogne, unable to wield a sword themselves, were prime movers in this time of conflict and lawlessness. It shows how their strengths, weaknesses, and personal ambitions swung the fortunes of war one way – and then the other. Available from Bookshop.org, Amberley Publishing and Amazon UK. King John’s Right-Hand Lady: The Story of Nicholaa de la Haye is the story of a truly remarkable lady, the hereditary constable of Lincoln Castle and the first woman in England to be appointed sheriff in her own right. Available from all good bookshops Pen & Sword Books, bookshop.org and Amazon.

Defenders of the Norman Crown: The Rise and Fall of the Warenne Earls of Surrey tells the fascinating story of the Warenne dynasty, from its origins in Normandy, through the Conquest, Magna Carta, the wars and marriages that led to its ultimate demise in the reign of Edward III. Available from Pen & Sword Books, Amazon in the UK and US, and Bookshop.org. Ladies of Magna Carta: Women of Influence in Thirteenth Century England looks into the relationships of the various noble families of the 13th century, and how they were affected by the Barons’ Wars, Magna Carta and its aftermath; the bonds that were formed and those that were broken. It is now available in paperback and hardback from Pen & Sword, Amazon, and Bookshop.org. Heroines of the Medieval World tells the stories of some of the most remarkable women from Medieval history, from Eleanor of Aquitaine to Julian of Norwich. Available now from Amberley Publishing and Amazon, and Bookshop.org. Silk and the Sword: The Women of the Norman Conquest traces the fortunes of the women who had a significant role to play in the momentous events of 1066. Available now from Amazon, Amberley Publishing, and Bookshop.org.

Alternate Endings: An anthology of historical fiction short stories including Long Live the King… which is my take what might have happened had King John not died in October 1216. Available in paperback and kindle from Amazon.

Podcast:

Have a listen to the A Slice of Medieval podcast, which I co-host with Historical fiction novelist Derek Birks. Derek and I welcome guests, such as Bernard Cornwell and discuss a wide range of topics in medieval history, from significant events to the personalities involved. Our first ever episode was a discussion on The Anarchy Every episode is also now available on YouTube.

Don’t forget! Signed and dedicated copies of all my books are available through my online bookshop.

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The Poetic Life of Margaret of Scotland, Dauphine of France

17/05/202516/08/2025Sharon Bennett Connolly6 Comments

Margaret of Scotland was the eldest daughter of James I, King of Scots, and his wife, Joan Beaufort. James had been king since the age of 12, though the first 18 years of his reign had been spent in English captivity, where he had fallen in love with Joan, the granddaughter of John of Gaunt and Katherine Swynford. James’s release had been successfully negotiated in 1423 and the marriage was politically favourable to the English, who saw it as an opportunity to improve relations with Scotland while, at the same time, drawing Scotland away from France, their traditional ally.

James I returned to Scotland in April 1424, with his new bride – and queen– at his side. Margaret was born in the royal apartments at the Dominican Friary in Perth, on Christmas Day in 1424. She was joined in the nursery by five sisters during the next ten years, Isabella, Eleanor, Joan, Mary and Annabella. Twin brothers were born in 1430, Alexander and James, but only James survived past the first few months.

In 1425, an embassy arrived from France, seeking little Margaret’s hand in marriage for Louis, son and heir of Charles VII:

Margaret’s mother, Joan Beaufort

The king [of Scots] was pleased to respond favourably to so distinguished an embassy, and forthwith sent as a solemn embassy to the king of France with a specific brief and commission the venerable men sir Henry Lychton bishop of Aberdeen, sir Edward Lauder archdeacon of Lothian, and Sir Patrick Ogilvie knight (the sheriff of Angus and justiciar of Scotland). Whereupon there was an agreement on both sides; and five years later, when each was of marriageable age, there came as envoys from the king of France La Hire the king’s maitre d’hôtel along with the distinguished cleric Master Aymer; and in terms of their commission they arranged the betrothal of the said eldest daughter of the king. The girl was sent to France by her father a little later, namely 1436, surrounded by a distinguished following of attendants, and in the following year she was married.¹

The marriage proposal was to accompany the renewal the Franco-Scottish alliance. France’s king, Charles VII had given his ambassadors the task of asking for Margaret’s hand in marriage for his son, Louis, the dauphin. Born in July 1423, Louis was just 18 months older than his future bride. However, James I hesitated, reluctant to give the French the army of 6,000 men that they wanted as part of the alliance. Charles VII was in a precarious position in France at the time. The Hundred Years War was raging and, despite the fact his father had died in 1422, he would not actually be crowned king until July 1429. In fact, Henry VI of England had already been crowned King of France and it was only due to the efforts of Joan of Arc that Charles VII’s fortunes would change. James, therefore, held off from agreeing to the alliance, and used it to strengthen his position in negotiations with the English.

*Margaret arrives in Tours for her wedding, from a 15th-century work by Jean Chartier.*

In 1435, the marriage of Margaret and the dauphin was finally agreed and the young bride, still only eleven years old, set out for France the following year. The princess only narrowly escaped her father’s fate when the English fleet attempted to capture her en route:

the dauphiness luckily made her escape and landed at La Rochelle. She rested at Nieul Priory which is two leagues from La Rochelle without notice being taken of her until such time as the [arch-] bishop of Rheims, with the bishops of Poitiers and Saintes and the worthy sires de Graville, Gaucourt and ‘Pontissey’ welcomed her and lodged her honourably in a splendid place for more than two months until the marriage was celebrated at Tours in Touraine. This was performed there by the archbishop of Rheims with the greatest possible ceremony, in the presence of the king and queen and also of the queen of Sicily (the mother of the queen of France). Once the wedding had been formally celebrated, the Scots (except the few who remained with the dauphiness) were much gratified with various presents and after a safe voyage arrived home.²

She left by ship from Dumbarton in March 1436, with an entourage worthy of a princess; she was escorted by several of the leading lords of the realm, a household of 140 persons in royal livery and more than 1,000 troops. The French fleet in which she sailed landed on the Île de Ré, near La Rochelle, on 17 April and made a formal progress to Tours. On 24 June she met her future husband for the first time, in the great hall of the castle at Tours, and the young couple embraced formally. They were married the next day, in the castle’s chapel.

*Margaret’s father, James I, King of Scots*

Celebrated by the Archbishop of Reims, it was a rather subdued affair, for a royal wedding. The continuing state of warfare with England had stretched the French royal finances to the limit. The reception was not as lavish as the Scottish guests might have expected and was cut short to preserve funds, the scandalised Scots being quickly ushered out. And almost immediately after the wedding celebrations, most of Margaret’s Scottish household was sent home, with just a handful of her native attendants allowed to stay with the new dauphine. Owing to the tender age of the young couple, they were not expected to consummate the marriage for another few years, so Margaret was given into the guardianship of Queen Marie, Charles VII’s wife, and continued her education under the queen’s supervision. Petite, pretty and delicate, Margaret soon became the darling of the French King and Queen.

Louis, on the other hand, had a strained relationship with his father, one that would eventually be expressed in open rebellion; as a result, he was rarely at court. When Louis asked the king for an allowance with which to set up a household for himself and his young wife, his father refused, despite being happy to give Margaret money to indulge herself. At one time, Charles VII gave Margaret 2,000 livres to buy herself furs and silks, and yet he refused to pay off Louis’ debts. Margaret also received grants directly from the king, rather than her husband, as might have been expected.

*Margaret’s husband, the future King Louis XI*

In 1437 the marriage was consummated and Margaret, now approaching her thirteenth birthday, was given her own household. Relations between the dauphin and dauphine were not helped by Louis’ strained relationship with his father and it seems that comparisons were made between Louis’ unimpressive looks and Margaret’s beauty – although malicious English chroniclers would insist that Louis was repelled by Margaret’s ‘evil soured breath’.

Margaret was allowed no part in court politics. The dauphine’s role in France was limited to formal occasions and court ceremonials, such as the celebrations for the marriage of the king’s niece, Margaret of Anjou, to Henry VI of England, which Margaret attended in 1445. As with her father before her, Margaret had a passion and talent for writing poetry and, although she enjoyed court life, she became increasingly bored with it. She retreated more and more to her own chambers with her ladies and spent her days and evenings writing and reading poetry. Her evenings were so taken up in this style, that she often retired to bed long after Louis had fallen asleep.

Margaret was also renowned as a patroness of literature. She had several poets in her household, including Jehanne Filleul, whose works have survived to this day, and the Viscount de Blosseville. De Blosseville wrote one of the three laments to the dauphine, written before her death. Another such lament was possibly written by her sister Isabella, it was certainly in her possession.

As the years passed and the couple remained childless, Margaret’s lifestyle caused further discontent within the marriage, and more unhappiness for the young princess as her husband expressed his displeasure. There is some suggestion that Margaret deliberately prevented herself from falling pregnant by drinking vinegar, and by tightly lacing her bodices – although this may also have been for vanity, and to keep her svelte figure. There were also followed accusations of impropriety within Margaret’s rooms when, at Christmas 1444, Jamet de Tillay, a member of the king’s household, entered her chamber during one of her private poetry evenings and subsequently spread rumours about ‘wanton princesses’.

Margaret perceived it as a personal attack and became increasingly distressed, complaining that Jamet had turned the king and dauphin against her. Although Jamet tried to apologise, Margaret would not hear of it. By the summer of 1445 the dauphine was very ill.

*Tomb of Margaret Stewart in the Saint-Laon Church, Thouars*

Having accompanied the court on pilgrimage she fell ill on 7 August and by the next day she was feverish and suffering from fits of coughing. Her doctors diagnosed an inflammation of the lungs. In her delirium, she blamed Jamet de Tillay for her impending demise and swore she had never done Louis any wrong. As she approached death, Margaret calmed down and forgave Jamet, on her ladies’ instigation. Having received the last rites, Margaret died on 16 August 1445, at Châlons-sur-Marne; she was just twenty years old. The dauphine was laid to rest in the Cathedral of St Étienne in Châlons; in 1479 her body was moved by her husband, now Louis XI, to the chapel of the Holy Sepulchre in the Abbey Church of Saint-Laon in Thouars, where Margaret had founded a chaplaincy.

Following her death, Louis destroyed every piece of poetry and writing that Margaret had ever produced. None of her work survived her husband’s purge. However, her patronage of poets has at least ensured she had a worthy legacy. Louis went on to marry Charlotte of Savoy and was the father of Anne de Beaujeu, regent of France for her brother King Charles VIII.