Introduction
Royal women were raised to be matrimonial ambassadors representing their family’s interests at a foreign court. Their power lay through the men that they knew as a daughter, wife and mother and, excluded from the explicit power that a king could wield, an ambitious woman’s opportunity lay in the intimate power she had with her husband.
But what happened when that marriage ended through the death of their husband?
Second marriages were not always guaranteed and royal woman were just as likely to be sent to a nunnery, as they were to be of use to their family for a second time. For some, however, not only did they remarry, but they married their husband’s successor, often at the ostracization of their sons, the derision of their subjects and the condemnation of historians to come.
Here we will look at four women in particular.
Judith of Flanders, Queen of Wessex (c. 844-c870) was the daughter of Charles the Bald and married Æthelwulf in 856 followed by his son Æthelbald in 858. Carolingian princesses were raised with a close affinity to a life in the church and very few of them ever married a foreign king[i].
Emma of Normandy, Queen of England (c. 984-1052) was the sister of Richard II of Normandy and came to England in 1002 as the second wife of Æthelred II. On his death in 1016 she married his successor, the Viking invader Cnut. She was a powerful and influential queen, commissioning a biography (The Encomium Emmae Reginae) and appearing in contemporary portraits. She was the mother of two kings.
Anne of Brittany, Queen of France (1477-1514) was the Duchess of Brittany in her own right, having inherited the strategically vital duchy from her father in 1488. It instantly made her one of the most coveted heiresses in Europe, and after having her marriage to Maximillian I of Austria annulled, she married Charles VIII of France in 1491. On his death in 1499, she married his cousin and successor, Louis XII, with whom she had two daughters.
Catherine of Aragon, Princess of Wales (1485-1536) was the daughter of Isabella of Castile and Ferdinand of Aragon. She was married to Arthur, Prince of Wales in 1501 at the age of fifteen and was widowed less than five months later. His successor as both the Welsh prince and English heir was his younger brother, Prince Henry, the future Henry VIII, who she eventually married in 1509. She had one living child, a daughter, Mary I of England.
So why did these women marry the man who succeeded their husbands?
Did they really have a choice?
The first question often asked when considering the fortunes of royal women is whether they really had any choices. The natural assumption is to see them as powerless and tools of the men around them.
Royal women of any era suffered from a lack of free-will, particularly when it came to marriage. Even after having performed their duty for their first marriage, very few had the freedom to choose for themselves when it came to their second husband. However, that is not the same as saying that they were all completely powerless.
Of our royal women, two, Catherine of Aragon and Emma of Normandy, were possibly prisoners between the death of their husbands and their second marriages. Catherine almost certainly was, remaining trapped in England whilst her father refused to pay the second half of the dowry she had brought with her on her marriage to Arthur. It was a sum he became increasingly unable to afford, especially after the death of her mother, Isabella, in 1504 when he lost access to the rich lands of Castile, now inherited by his eldest daughter, Joanna. However, as we will discuss further, Catherine was not altogether reluctant to stay, and she avoided several opportunities to return home.
Emma was probably in London at the time of her husband’s death (although the Encomium Emmae Reginae claims that she was in Normandy[ii]), unable or unwilling to leave. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle certainly seems to show that she was brought to Cnut on his instruction:
‘And then, before the Kalends of August, the king commanded the relict of king Æthelred, Richard's daughter, to be fetched for his wife; that was Ælfgive in English, Emma in French.’[iii]
However, the Encomium showed Emma as having a more inclusive role in the decision, being an equal part of the protracted discussions between the two, which decided her future[iv]. Historians have also cast doubt on the theory that she was trapped, instead theorizing that it was her choice to stay in England whilst her sons fled[v].
For Anne of Brittany the decision was even more clear cut; her marriage contract with her first husband Charles VIII of France had specifically stipulated that should he die before her without a male heir she was to marry his successor. The clause ensured that France would retain control of her duchy, intending that it would eventually be annexed permanently once a male French heir was born.
Of the four of them only Judith of Flanders seems to have had a modicum of choice. Both of her Wessex husbands predeceased her, and on the death of her second husband, Æthelbald, Judith quickly sold her English lands and returned to Flanders. The fact that she chose, and was able, to do this suggests that it may have been possible for her to have done the same on Æthelwulf’s death two years earlier. Staying in Wessex to marry his son may have been a conscious choice rather than something forced upon her.
To avoid a life in religious obsoletion
Finding themselves retired to a religious house was a fate that awaited many royal women and for some it was a preferable option to what might otherwise await, including death. Choosing to bow out gracefully could help ensure that they had some input into where and how they went, especially as retiring to a nunnery didn’t necessarily mean taking the veil and leaving behind a life of luxury. Yet for others the idea of being pensioned off at a young age was something they were determined to resist.
For Judith, returning home to Flanders after Æthelwulf’s death would have almost certainly guaranteed her a life in a religious house, even though she was only fourteen years old. Her job of binding Wessex and Flanders together in a peace treaty against the Vikings was over and her father, Charles the Bald, was inclined to return to the country’s tradition of associating its royal woman with religious foundations. Æthelbald would have been keen to see the alliance continue, plus marrying an anointed queen would have bolstered his claim to the throne. Both would get something from the marriage, but if marrying her stepson was her way to avoid such a fate it certainly proved scandalous, even to some of her contemporaries who were used to marriages between widows and successors. The chronicler Asser reported:
‘Once King Æthelwulf was dead, Æthelbald, his son, against God's prohibition and Christian dignity, and also contrary to the practice of all pagans, took over his father's marriage-bed and married Judith, daughter of Charles, king of the Franks, incurring great disgrace from all who heard of it.’[vi]
She had been right, however, about her fate: when Æthelbald died and she went home, her father housed her in the monastery at Senlis under episcopal guardianship; she only escaped when she eloped with her third husband.
Catherine of Aragon’s chances of being sent to a nunnery were equally assured after the death of her first husband, Arthur, Prince of Wales in 1502. Although often portrayed as a pious and religious queen, Catherine would spend the next seven years fighting to secure a marriage that would keep her in England and out of a nunnery. Initially, she was offered the chance to wed the present king, Henry VII, her father-in-law, but she fiercely opposed the suggestion, persuading her mother, the formidable Isabella of Castile, to her cause:
‘[his proposal] would be an evil thing, the mere mention of which offends the ears, and we would not for anything in the world that it should take place.’[vii]
They both knew that, with Henry not having long to live, any marriage between the two would quickly see Catherine a widow again, only now with no hope of another marriage. Instead, she pinned her future on her ten-year-old brother-in-law, telling her father that she would rather die in England than return to Spain rejected[viii]. By 1503 her fortunes seemed to have rallied when a new marriage treaty was arranged and she was betrothed to the new Prince of Wales, but the date for the wedding came and went and as the years passed her value to her family began to diminish. Her father still refused to pay the dowry and her mother’s death a year later saw his power shrink on the international stage, destroying her worth as a bride. Henry VII began to look towards more important European houses for a bride for his son and Prince Henry was forced to repudiate his previous betrothal vows. Catherine’s chances seemed over and a return to Aragon was suggested right up until 1509, but she resisted at least until March that year; as the Dowager Princess of Wales with an impoverished father with domestic issues, even she had accepted that going home to a religious life was the best she had to look forward to. It was only Henry VII’s death a few months later and the chivalric determination of Henry VIII to marry her that saved her from such a fate.
Protecting the life of her sons
Marriage was the measure of a royal woman’s purpose and the birth of a son the pinnacle of her achievements, yet of our four queens only Emma had sons, both with her first husband Æthelred II (Edward and Alfred) and her second, his successor, Cnut (Harthacnut).
Emma’s motives for marrying Cnut are complex, and historians have sought to condemn and excuse her actions in equal measure. The portrayal of her actions in a positive light is evidenced by the explanation that her marriage protected her sons from certain death. Undoubtedly Cnut would have been threatened by Edward and Alfred, especially as they had taken refuge at the court of their uncle in Normandy. Sons of a previous king were dangerous if left unchecked and though both boys had an elder brother by their father’s first wife, the rule of primogeniture had still not fully developed at this time, leaving the throne open to whoever proved the strongest.
By marrying Cnut, Emma hoped to give him assurances that she would not support their claim and deter her brother from acting on behalf of his nephews, thus negating Cnut’s need to be rid of them. Yet Emma’s own record of her marriage to Cnut in the Encomium seems to show that her thoughts on marrying him were not for Alfred or Edward, but rather for the sons they might have together:
‘But she refused ever to become the bride of Knutr, unless he would affirm to her by oath, that he would never set up the son of any wife other than herself to rule after him, if it happened that God should give her a son by him.’[ix]
Similarly, if she had married him only to protect the claims of her and Æthelred’s sons, she had certainly had a change of heart by the time Cnut died in 1035. Emma chose to support the claim of his child, Harthacnut, over that of her last surviving son with Æthelred, Edward, retaining much of the power she had had as Queen Consort. Edward did not forget it. Even more shocking is the possibility that she was responsible for encouraging her boys to leave the comparable safety of Normandy in 1036, resulting in Alfred’s horrific blinding and death; the fact that the Encomium works hard to clear her name shows how seriously the idea was taken at the time.
To protect her own inheritance
Though Anne had no children at the time of the death of her first husband, Charles VIII, her marriage to his successor, Louis XII, did, in many ways, aim to protect the rights of any future children she might have.
The year after her marriage to Charles VIII in 1491, Anne was described by the Venetian ambassador as a highly determined woman:
‘Her wit is remarkable for her age and once she has set her mind on doing something, she makes sure she succeeds, by all means necessary and at any price.’[x]
As duchess in her own right, she was fiercely protective of Brittany’s independence from France and although Charles VIII contracted her to marry the next king (despite him already having a wife, her sister-in-law, Joan of France), she was shrewd enough to protect her own interests in the process. Alongside the ruling that she must marry Louis, was also the caveat that should she outlive Charles then she would retain her possession of Brittany as its Duchess. Accordingly, she often toured her homeland as its ruler and protector and arranged that the heir to the duchy would be her daughter Claude, rather than it passing with the French crown to the next male heir (her husband’s cousin, Francis I)[xi].
Retaining power
The power that came with queenship varied from woman to woman, location to location and century to century. What one woman could obtain in ninth-century Wessex was not the same as another in fifteenth-century France. Yet, having known power and influence with one husband may well have driven a widow of any era to seek the same with their next, and who better than the successor to that power.
This was, of course, very much dependent on the nature of the women and the time that they were given to find their place. As Princess of Wales, fifteen-year-old Catherine never had the opportunity to do much and, equally, although the two years of Judith’s marriage to the elderly Æthelwulf saw the teenage queen holding a special status when he ‘conferred on her the title of queen: something not customary before then to him or his people'[xii], she had little other power. Yet both saw what they could have and chose to stay in England and Wessex respectively, in order to achieve it.
For Anne, also only around twelve at the time of her marriage to Charles VIII, the power that she sought to protect was not that which she had found in France, but rather the power she already exercised in her own homeland. She had already annulled one marriage in order to claim the security of a connection with France and marrying Louis allowed her to retain and enjoy her freedoms as duchess for the rest of her life.
Of our four women, it was Emma who wielded the most power as a queen consort, though it may be premature to say that she married Cnut in order to keep what she had had with Æthelred. He had accorded her some influence, as her witnessing of royal charters shows, and yet she did not have the influence needed to ensure the succession of her son. For any queen, being the mother of the next king was what safeguarded her control, and when England fell into war between Æthelred’s, eldest son, Edmund, and the Viking invaders, neither of Emma’s sons were in a position to challenge him. Cnut’s victory gave her an alternative.
Having considered the positive interpretation of Emma’s actions (that of securing her sons’ safety), we should now consider the possible negative motive. Did she cut her losses with her children and accept marriage to the new king in order to protect her own position? Edward certainly never had a close bond with her, and their relationship remained strained after he became king in 1042, with the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle suggesting that:
‘she had formerly been very hard to the king, her son, in that she did less for him than he wished both before he became king and afterwards as well.'[xiii]
Whatever her reason, it certainly proved a prudent and clever move and she developed her role with Cnut beyond what she had had with Æthelred, She become Queen of Denmark and Norway when Cnut inherited the thrones from his elder brother and was probably made regent during his subsequent absences from England. She was a formidable patron of the church and sources describe her almost as Cnut’s partner, appearing alongside him on the frontispiece of the New Minster Liber Vitae. On his death she was powerful enough to take hold of the royal treasury at Winchester, and for a time she was the richest woman in England.
Conclusion
Once a woman was sent to her new husband her work as an intercessor between him and her family had only just begun. They were the link that bound two nations to peace, trade and prosperity and whose offspring would continue that connection for centuries to come. But when death intervened and that role was no longer possible it was not always the case that her family would need or want her back.
It is easy to judge royal women as either pawns in men’s games or as scheming mercenaries ready to forget their husbands almost as soon as they were dead. Neither is wholly accurate. Power was a complex and dangerous thing for women and they were forced to make difficult choices in order to retain their freedom, dignity and status. Marriage was a political game and women proved that they could play it just as well as a man when fate allowed. Marrying their husband’s successor was neither a betrayal or callous. It was a way to survive a difficult and political world.
What do you think about these four queens?
Now, read Samantha’s article of James VI/James I, the king whose lovers were men – here.
[i] MacLean, S. Queenship, Nunneries and Royal Widowhood in Carolingian Europe, p11-12; Stafford, Pauline. Queens, Concubines and Dowagers: the King’s Wife in the Early Middle Ages, p47.
[ii] The Encomium Emmae Reginae, Book 2:16. Simon Keynes believes that this ‘add[s] to the evidence that [the Encomium] …took considerable liberties with the truth’. Keynes, Simon Emma [Ælfgifu].
[iii] The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, A1017, trans J A Giles, p107.
[iv] The Encomium Emmae Reginae, Book 2:17.
[v] Keynes, Emma [Ælfgifu]
[vi] From Asser’s Life of Alfred, Chapter 17, quoted in Nelson, Janet. Æthelwulf
[vii] Isabella, Queen of Castile, quoted in Williams, Neville. The Life and Times of Henry VII, p194.
[viii] Scarisbrick, JJ. Henry VIII, p11.
[ix] The Encomium Emmae Reginae, Book 2:16.
[x] Ambassador Zaccaria Contarini, 1492 quoted in Representations of Anne of Brittany
[xi] Nevertheless, Claude was married to Francis (against Anne’s wishes) binding the duchy to France.
[xii] Annals of St Bertin, s.a. 856 quoted in Nelson, Æthelwulf
[xiii] The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle A 1043, p115
