Christine de Pizan

Christine de Pizan
The Writer Christine de Pizan at Her Desk
Showing posts with label Joan Beaufort. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Joan Beaufort. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 25, 2015

Katherine Swynford: Is It Really a Love Story?

Katherine de Roet, lady Swynford and, later, duchess of Lancaster (born 25 November 1349 or 1350)


For generations of readers, Anya Seton's 1954 historical novel Katherine was the means by which they came to the story of Katherine Swynford. Seton's is a romantic narrative in the extreme: the twenty-five-year-long love affair between a young woman with no social status or political significance and John of Gaunt, duke of Lancaster, the third son of Edward III, king of England. 

Katherine Swynford's device,
featuring Katherine Wheels,
adopted after her marriage to
John of Gaunt, duke of Lancaster
Their passion, their heartbreak, their separation, their against-the-odds marriage (Katherine becomes Gaunt's third wife)--it's an amazing novel. I read it for the first time, just a few years ago, on the recommendation of a co-worker, and I loved it. Much to my co-worker's surprise, actually, since she thought I would hate a book that was, as she apologetically described it, "just fiction." (She said this to me, knowing that I taught literature!!)

I have also read Alison Weir's biography of Swynford, Mistress of the Monarchy: The Life of Katherine Swynford, Duchess of Lancaster. Weir begins her study by noting her own lifelong fascination with Seton's novel:
This is a love story, one of the greatest and most remarkable love stories of medieval England. . . .
Katherine Swynford's story first captured my imagination four decades ago, when I read Anya Seton's famous novel about her, Katherine. This epic novel made a tremendous impact on me as an adolescent, and still has the power to move me today. And I am not alone, because it has hardly been out of print since its first publication in 1954, and ranked ninety-fifth in the top one hundred favorite books voted for by the public in BBC TV's "The Big Read" in 2003.
While I loved Seton's novel, I did not love Weir's biography--I guess I expect more out of non-fiction. The truth is that we have no way of knowing whether Katherine Swynford's relationship with John of Gaunt was "one of the greatest and most remarkable love stories" of the late Middle Ages--or of any time. Too much focus on the inner (and highly romanticized) feelings and motivations of historical figures in a work of history doesn't make for good history, or at least not the kind of history that I appreciate. 

There simply is not much information available about Katherine Swynford, for one thing. The broad facts of her life are known: she was the daughter of Paon de Roet, a knight from the county of Hainault, a principality that was part of the Habsburg empire (the area generally corresponding, now, to Belgium), who seems to have become a part of the English court around the time of Edward III's marriage to Philippa of Hainault. (While Paon de Roet was not named in the official list of Philippa's retinue, the fifteenth-century court historian Jean Froissart, himself from Hainault, indicates that he was one of the "other young squires" who accompanied her to England at the time of her marriage.)

Historians have never been able to identify Katherine de Roet's mother--there is simply no information about Paon de Roet's marriage. Even so, there is speculation he married more than once--that his four children, born over the course of fifteen years, must have had different mothers--and that Katherine's mother was somehow connected to the ruling family of Hainault, and thus that she was related to Philippa of Hainault. But no evidence.

I'm posting today because her birthdate is conventionally cited as 25 November--but that is speculation too, simply because it is the feast date of Katherine of Alexandria, a saint for whom Katherine would demonstrate particular reverence (as we might expect if this were her patron saint). The badge she adopted after her marriage to John of Gaunt incorporated Katherine Wheels in its imagery, as did a variety of vestments she offered as gifts to Lincoln Cathedral.

Katherine Swynford's tomb,
Lincoln Cathedral
Katherine's eldest sister, Elizabeth de Roet, was probably born around the year 1335; she became a canoness at the Abbey of St. Waudru in Mons (Hainault).

Her brother, Walter, was probably born between 1338-40; he served Margaret, countess of Hainault, and fought under Edward, the "Black Prince," probably at the battle of Poitiers in 1356.

Katherine's younger sister Philippa, likely born in the 1350s, was a member of Queen Philippa's household and would later marry the poet Geoffrey Chaucer. 

At some point before 24 January 1365, when she is referred to by her married name in the register of Lincoln Cathedral, Katherine de Roet was married to Sir Hugh Swynford, of Kettlethorpe. She bore him at least three children, though their order of birth is not clear: Blanche (b. 1363?), Margaret, and Thomas (b. 24 February 1367). Sir Hugh was killed in 1371, fighting with John of Gaunt in Aquitaine.

And at some point after Gaunt's marriage to the heiress Blanche of Lancaster in 1359, Katherine had joined her court. (Katherine's daughter Blanche was likely named after the duchess.) Also at some point, again we don't know when, Katherine became the governess of Blanche and Gaunt's daughters, Philippa and Elizabeth. And at some point, too, she became Gaunt's mistress. 

Blanche of Lancaster died in 1369, when she was just twenty-three years old; on 21 September 1371, John of Gaunt married Constance of Castile (Constance's younger sister, Isabella, married Gaunt's younger brother). While married to Constance, and having children with her (a daughter, Constance of Lancaster, born in 1373, and a son, John, born in 1374), Gaunt had four children with Katherine: John (b. 1373), Henry (b.1375), Thomas (b.1377) and Joan (b.1379). The children were given the surname Beaufort. 

After Constance of Castile died in March of 1394, on 13 January 1396, Gaunt married Katherine Swynford. Their four children were legitimized by Pope Boniface IX and the English king, Richard II. Gaunt died just three years later, in 1399. 

The relationship between John of Gaunt and Katherine Swynford was widely condemned by contemporaries, who called her an "abominable strumpet" and an "unspeakable concubine." Gaunt himself was condemned for being "blinded by desire" and a "doting fool."

While Seton and Weir are anxious not only to defend Katherine but to tell the story of a great "love affair," I'm not sure that Gaunt and Swynford's relationship was what Weir calls, quoting Shakespeare, "A marriage of true minds," nor that Katherine was "the love of his heart, and the sole focus of his desire" (particularly since Gaunt is known to have had sexual relationships with other women--other than his wife, that is--during the time of his relationship to Katherine Swynford--"sole focus of his desire"??????).

Part of what makes me so hesitant, I think, is that clearly Katherine was in a position that made her vulnerable--vulnerable in terms of her sex (as a woman to a man), vulnerable in terms of her social status (as a woman of a somewhat ambiguous social class in relationship to one of the most powerful men in England), vulnerable in terms of her marital status (as a widow, probably, at the time her relationship with Gaunt began). She was certainly financially dependent. Her children's futures were also at risk--the children that she had with Swynford as well as her children with Gaunt. 

Rather than reduce (and I do mean reduce) Katherine to a romanticized object of desire or a woman driven by passion, I guess I'd rather focus on her rather limited options as a woman. Her sister's husband, Geoffrey Chaucer, could rise in service to John of Gaunt, Richard II, and Henry IV, by means of his wits through a series of royal grants and appointments.

As a woman, perhaps equally gifted and ambitious, Katherine Swynford's options were more limited. But she certainly accomplished a great deal within the limited scope offered women. Unlike Chaucer, the upwardly mobile son of a merchant, she couldn't dedicate graceful dream visions to royal patrons or secure increasingly important bureaucratic posts. But she could become a governess to aristocratic children--which she did--she could marry reasonably well--which she did--and whether she courted a sexual relationship that could advance her position and offer her security or agreed to one because she was madly in love or accepted one because she had little choice in the matter, she certainly advanced her Beaufort children.

It was exceptional for a man--especially a royal duke, the son of a king--to marry a woman who had been his mistress, certainly. But was the marriage to Katherine Swynford the culmination of a long love affair? Or was it, as the chronicler Froissart suggested, because of his "affection" for the children he had with her? Or, perhaps, because if legitimized, his Beaufort children could prove the source of consolidating yet more power and influence?

Whatever the case, Gaunt's children with Katherine Swynford, legitimized in 1399, proved themselves to be extraordinary. John Beaufort, first earl of Somerset, was the grandfather of Margaret Beaufort, the mother of Henry Tudor, who became Henry VII of England. Henry Beaufort, bishop of Winchester, became a Cardinal in 1426, and presided over the trial of Joan of Arc after her capture in 1431. He served as Lord Chancellor of England on several occasions and was part of the regency council for Henry VI. (And he had an illegitimate daughter--oops.) Thomas Beaufort, duke of Exeter, held a variety of military commands and also served as Lord Chancellor of England. Joan Beaufort, countess of Westmoreland, married into the powerful Neville family--her daughter was a woman we have met before, Cecily Neville, and thus Joan Beaufort was the grandmother not only of Edward IV and Richard III, but also of Elizabeth of York, who married Henry Tudor. 

Gaunt's son by Blanche of Lancaster, Henry, ultimately became king of England, and when he did so, he referred to Katherine as "the king's mother," even after Gaunt's death, a tribute to this remarkable woman. 

Not a bad outcome for Katherine de Roet, the daughter of an unremarkable knight from a small county on the continent.

I've already linked you, above, to Weir's biography, though I will warn you that much of the book is really about John of Gaunt, since there is so little information, really, about Katherine Swynford. There is also a biography by Jeanette Lucraft, Katherine Swynford: The History of a Medieval Mistress. 

I have not read Lucraft's biography, but certainly her essay, "Missing from History: Jeanette Lucraft Recovers the Identity and Reputation of the Remarkable Katherine Swynford," published in History Today, is excellent, and I'll link to it here.*

(By the way, this is another great example of the reason "traditional" marriage isn't quite what people think it is!)

*Update, 25 November 2021: Jeanette Lucraft's History Today article is no longer freely available--it is now behind an institutional subscription paywall. I've left the reference in just in case you might have access . . . I hate it when this happens.



Sunday, May 3, 2015

Cecily Neville, "the Rose of Raby"

Cecily Neville, duchess of York (born 3 May 1415)


One recent biography of Cecily Neville is subtitled "mother of kings"--and, no doubt, Cecily Neville was the mother of two English kings, Edward IV and Richard III. (She was also the wife of a man who wanted very much to be king, Richard Plantagenet, the duke of York.)

But being the mother of kings wasn't quite enough for Cecily Neville--after her son Edward married Elizabeth Woodville, a woman she did not approve of, Cecily styled herself "queen by right." In 1469, still not happy with her son, Cecily seems to have declared Edward to be illegitimate so that her second son, George, duke of Clarence, could be king--which would have made her the mother of three kings . . .

A portrait of Cecily Neville,
a nineteenth-century reconstruction of medieval stained glass,
(St. Andrew's Church, Penrith)
In any case, while she was indeed the mother of two relatively short-lived kings, Cecily Neville was also much more. Not only did she regard herself as "queen by right," Cecily Neville was also the mother of three very successful daughters, including Margaret of York.

As duchess of Burgundy, Margaret of York was not a queen, but, whether it offered Margaret the title of queen or not, Burgundy was the wealthiest, most culturally advanced, and sophisticated court in Europe. Among her many accomplishments, Margaret, as duchess of Burgundy, had a role in Burgundian politics, was a patron of many artists, and was an influential and stable figure in the life of her step-granddaughter, Margaret of Austria.

A detail from the St. Andrew's window, above left
In addition to being the mother of such an accomplished woman, Cecily was also the mother of two other duchesses (Anne of York, duchess of Exeter, and Elizabeth of York, duchess of Suffolk, whose sons would continue the Yorkist claim to the English throne into another generation). Cecily was also the grandmother of a queen, another Elizabeth of York, who would marry Henry Tudor, the man who defeated her uncle, Richard III, at the battle of Bosworth.

Cecily Neville herself was the eighteenth child (!) of Ralph Neville and his second wife, Joan Beaufort--who was the daughter of John of Gaunt, duke of Lancaster, and thus through this connection (Gaunt was the son of King Edward III), Cecily had royal blood. (As did her husband, who also descended from Edward III.) During their thirty-year marriage, Cecily gave birth to thirteen children, six of whom died in infancy; in addition to the six surviving children we've already mentioned, Edmund of Rutland died with his father at the battle of Wakefield.

Beyond producing children and managing the enormous households associated with two great families, Cecily Neville supported her husband's political and martial activities. After his death, she acquired even more land, wealth, and titles, she was a noted patron of religious and educational institutions, and she played a significant role in attempting to secure a brilliant continental match for her son, Edward--thus her disappointment with his marriage to Elizabeth Woodville. I should add here that there is much debate about the source of the claim that Edward was not his father's son--the degree of his mother's involvement, if any, isn't at all clear.

But there was a rift between mother and son after Edward's marriage, and that meant Cecily spent a great deal of time away from court; after Edward's death, she supported her son Richard's claim to the throne, asserting his legitimacy and the illegitimacy of the claims of Edward's sons, the ill-fated "princes in the Tower." 

Even after Richard's death in 1485, the indefatigable Cecily Neville was not done--there is some evidence that she was still involved in political intrigue at the time of her own death in 1495, when her servants were connected with the conspiracy plots involving Perkin Warbeck, who claimed to be the younger of the two missing princes, suddenly returned to claim his throne.

In her will, Cecily Neville left a poignant bequest to her great grandson, Prince Arthur, the son of Henry Tudor (who had killed Cecily's son, Richard III, at the battle of Bosworth), and of Cecily's granddaughter, Elizabeth of York: a set of bed hangings, made of arras, or Flemish tapestry, decorated with "the Whele [wheel] of Fortune," a potent image of the fickleness of human life.

Cecily Neville was sometimes romanticized by later historians as the "rose of Raby" because of her great beauty (the "rose" part) and because she was born at Raby Castle. She was the principal character in a quartet of novels written in the 1970s by Eleanor Fairburn: The Rose in Spring (1971); White Rose, Dark Summer (1972); The Rose at Harvest End (1975); and Winter's Rose (1976). More recently, she makes an appearance in Philippa Gregory's The Cousins' War series.

 
In this image from the 
Neville Book of Hours, 1425,
Ralph Neville is pictured 
with twelve of his children,
including Cecily















The life of Cecily Neville is covered well in Sarah Gristwood's Blood Sisters: The Women behind the Wars of the Roses. Amy License's Cecily Neville: Mother of Kings is the first full-length biography. For her definitive treatment, I highly recommend J. L. Laynesmith's 2017 Cecily Duchess of York.

And as one last intriguing note, Cecily Neville probably owned a copy of Christine de Pizan's The Book of the City of Ladies.

Update, August 2021: You may also be interested in a History Extra podcast episode on Cecily Neville, the "forgotten matriarch of the Wars of the Roses" (to listen, click here).