Marguerite runs to me and, as her arms close about me and we cry and laugh in turn, I feel such a lightness of heart, such grace. It is as if the forgiveness of Christ were mine as well.
EPILOGUE
ELEANOR
JANUARY 1255
WISSANT, FRANCE
My days with my sister have drawn to a close. The ships outside my window tell me so.
We celebrated Christmas with such pomp and gaiety that Paris will talk of it for years. There was still sorrow in my sister’s looks in these last days. But there was also happiness without the need for concealment. It was the same happiness, and springing from the same cause, I now realize, as that which filled her letters from Cyprus and the Holy Land. When Marguerite danced with the Sieur de Joinville at our Christmas revels, I watched with joy. To see someone you love laugh is a marvelous thing.
“Are you ready to go on board?” Henry sticks his head through the doorway. “Ready to say good-bye?”
“It is not good-bye. My sister is always with me.”
Doubtless Henry thinks I refer to Marguerite’s letters, several of which are in my aumônière even now. Over the years he has occasionally poked fun at their number and frequency. But I do not refer to these tangible objects. Walking with my husband to the courtyard where Marguerite and Louis wait to see us on our horses, I keep one hand ever so gently against my breast, as if guarding my heart.
My sister greets us with open arms, clinging first to Sanchia, who is to sail back with us, then to Henry, and finally to me. Louis steps forward with more reserve. There is something awkward about the way he embraces Henry but something hopeful as well.
“We are brothers as all men are brothers in Christ,” the King of France declares, releasing my husband, “even more so as we have taken sisters to wife. Our children, along with their cousins, will rule the greatest kingdoms in Europe and influence its history for a hundred years. You are my brother; be also my friend.”
Henry clasps Louis’s arm and pulls the French king back into an embrace. Over my husband’s shoulder I raise my eyebrows and give Marguerite a look. How typical of men to think that by their brotherly embrace they are the authors of history and fortune. Marguerite and I know better. ’Tis sisters who shape the world plain and simple.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Half a dozen years ago, while researching another project, I came upon a footnote in a history of Notre Dame de Paris—a footnote about Marguerite of Provence, whose kneeling image is carved over that great church’s Portal Rouge, and about her sisters. I had never heard of these remarkable sisters from Provence and wondered how such extraordinary women could have largely slipped through the fingers of history. I started a folder with their names on it and tucked it away in my file drawer, vowing to come back and tell their story. The Sister Queens is the result of that vow.
Perhaps inevitably my finished novel focuses on the two closest sisters, Marguerite and Eleanor, and tells their tale through the lens of their relationship with each other. I am, after all, a “big sister,” and my relationship with my own sister defines me and has done so since childhood. If you have a sister, you know precisely what I mean. We do not escape our sisters. I believe the same was true for Marguerite and Eleanor—they were queens, yes, and wives, and political actors on the stage of thirteenth-century Europe, but first, last, and always they were sisters.
The Christmas of 1254 when my novel ends was the first that Marguerite and Eleanor of Provence spent together after nineteen years of separation, but it was not the last. Five years later, a shared French and English holiday resulted in more than the exchange of rings and pretty presents. In early December 1259, Louis IX and Henry III signed the Treaty of Paris, and, for the rest of Marguerite’s and Eleanor’s lifetimes, France and England would see each other as allies, not enemies. The roots of that treaty stretched back to the Christmas of 1254 when, with the help of the sister queens, important territorial issues were settled in principle. As part of the Treaty of Paris, Henry was paid handsomely, both in money and by the grant of a number of fiefs and domains of the French Crown, to renounce English claims in Normandy and Poitou. In turn, Louis accepted English control of Gascony and Henry did homage for the duchy. The sister queens from Provence had reshaped the political relations between their kingdoms.
But more was changed than politics. On a personal level, the royal families of France and England drew together. After 1254, they increasingly provided support for each other in adversity—just as Marguerite and Eleanor had done since girlhood. In 1260, Henry of England shouldered the coffin of Marguerite’s beloved son Prince Louis, acting as pallbearer on the first stage of the boy’s journey to Royaumont for burial after the fifteen-year-old died suddenly. During the English Civil War, with Henry and her son Edward in rebel hands, Eleanor took refuge in France, raising money and troops for her beleaguered husband. And King Louis, who before the Anglo-French understanding might well have favored his countryman and personal friend Simon de Montfort, declared the English Provisions of Oxford null and his brother-in-law king, plain and simple. He ordered all the lands the English rebels had taken returned to the Crown and its supporters.
The importance of family, championed by two sisters from the houses of Provence and Savoy, made rival kings brothers in spirit, not just in name—quite an achievement and certainly not the end of the sisters’ story. As The Sister Queens closes, neither Marguerite nor Eleanor has yet lived even half the years of her long, eventful, life.
A word about my two kings. The Sister Queens is very much the tale of Marguerite and Eleanor, but to tell that story is also to tell at least in part the stories of their husbands. These powerful men were multifaceted. I was particularly interested in exploring sides of their characters that have, perhaps, been overlooked somewhat in other portrayals. In the case of Louis IX of France, I sought to illuminate the imperfect man behind the gleaming image of the Roman Catholic saint. And I tried to show the caring husband and good father often overlooked in history’s judgment of Henry III as one of the least of England’s kings.
And what about Marguerite’s “other man”? Did Marguerite of Provence and Jean de Joinville, Seneschal of Champagne and a close associate of Louis IX, have an affair? Storytelling involves making decisions and drawing inferences based on what we know and what we can never know with certainty. While no historian can definitively say that such an affair took place, there has been speculation and there is certainly evidence to support my inference. For example, there is the open affinity and fondness exhibited by Jean de Joinville for Marguerite in his writings in The Life of Saint Louis. This book, which includes Joinville’s own first-person account of the crusade in Egypt, is largely laudatory of Louis IX. But of His Majesty’s treatment of his queen, Joinville, notably, often does not approve, at one point writing, “It seems to me that this conduct was not becoming, to be so distant from his wife and his children” [Jean de Joinville, The Life of Saint Louis, translated with an introduction by Caroline Smith (Penguin Books, 2008), 294]. This is forceful language indeed when one considers that Joinville’s open criticism is contained in a book dedicated to Louis’s grandson, the future King Louis X. In contrast, Joinville’s portrayals of Marguerite are glowing and often warmed by touches of familiarity and humor. Joinville sets forth plainly not only Marguerite’s repeated neglect at her husband’s hands, but the antipathy of Blanche of Castile toward her son’s wife.
Then, there is the very telling fact that Louis IX himself appeared to believe that something was going on between his wife and his favorite. Joinville’s writing recounts episodes of Louis’s jealous behavior, most notably in the chronicler’s description of the fire at sea on the voyage home from the Holy Land. Just as depicted in my story, the historical Louis was fixated on the idea that Joinville knew more of that fire and its circumstances than he was telling, going so far as to accuse Joinville’s servant of lying about his master’s whereabouts at the time of the conflagration. When it comes to M
arguerite and Jean, I for one am willing to conclude that the smoke revealed a real fire.
Finally, a few words about the needs of plot. I am a writer of fiction. All fiction is a mixture of truth and invention. Historical fiction is no exception. In order to create a compelling story, I ruminated upon my historical research and then used my imagination to breathe life into long-dead historical figures, giving them thoughts, feelings, and voices. The words they speak are mine, and I would not want anyone to think otherwise (for example, the letters that begin each chapter are original to the novel and not excerpts of historical documents). In telling the story of my sister queens, however, I have generally attempted to remain faithful to the facts and chronology of the sisters’ lives. The precise dates of a number of events from this period—including the birth dates of some members of the Provençal and royal families—are, however, far from certain or agreed upon. In cases where legitimate sources differed, I have chosen to assign dates based on the needs of the narrative arc of my novel. For example, various sources place the birth of the girls’ youngest sister Beatrice between 1231 and 1234. Because I wished Marguerite (and the reader) to know the toddler Beatrice before her eldest sister departed for France, I have selected the earliest date. In a few cases, I deliberately moved an actual event. For example, for storytelling reasons I moved the attempted assassination of Henry III by one year, from September 1238 to September 1237. Likewise, the skirmish between Eleanor and Henry over the living at Flamstead was moved to an earlier date while retaining the facts of the power struggle. Additionally, though Henry did reach a truce with the Scots in 1244, which included the promise of little Princess Margaret’s hand, he returned from the border in the autumn of that year, whereas I have placed his homecoming in December. In the case of Marguerite’s story, I have, for example, adjusted both the dates for the battle of Damietta and the birth of Jean Tristan, but only very slightly (by weeks, not months) for narrative purposes.
READERS GUIDE
QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION
1. Although Marguerite and Eleanor grew up together at the court of their father, Raymond Berenger, Count of Provence, they turned out to be very different women. Why do siblings raised together turn out differently? Why do you think Marguerite and Eleanor might have been so different?
2. As young women and new brides, what are the most significant differences between Marguerite and Eleanor? Which sister’s personality appeals to you more and why?
3. In her own time, Eleanor was described as a “virago”—which meant overbearing or domineering. This term was not a compliment. Would she be viewed differently today? If so, why and how? How would Eleanor’s behavior have been judged had she been a thirteenth-century nobleman?
4. It is said that “imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.” Several times during The Sister Queens, Marguerite consciously behaved as her sister Eleanor would instead of going with her own instinct. Did adopting an “Eleanor approach” help Marguerite or cause her to betray her own nature? Why do you feel as you do? What about Eleanor? Were her attempts to act “as Marguerite would” helpful or harmful to her?
5. The Sister Queens is very much the story of the relationship between Marguerite and Eleanor of Provence, but it is also a tale of their individual relationships with their powerful husbands. Marguerite’s husband, Louis IX of France, was by all historical measures a great king. If you were transported by time machine back to the thirteenth century, would you want to be married to Louis? Why or why not? How important is professional competence/success in a spouse?
6. Eleanor’s husband, Henry III of England, was not considered an able king during his lifetime and continues to rank as one of England’s least effectual rulers. If you woke up one morning married to Henry, would you be happy or unhappy? Why? Would you be embarrassed, as Eleanor sometimes was, by his political/professional shortcomings? How does Eleanor deal with that embarrassment? How would you?
7. How were Marguerite’s and Eleanor’s relationships with their husbands a product of the period in which they lived? How were the sisters’ marital relationships affected by their being not only wives to their kingly husbands but also queens to their subjects?
8. The marriages of Marguerite, Eleanor, and their two younger sisters were all arranged to bring their family political advantage and prestige. There is abundant historical evidence that such arranged marriages could turn out happily. How were historical couples able to find contentment with spouses not of their own choosing? Do you believe expectations for marriage were different in the High Middle Ages than they are today? How?
9. Both Marguerite and Eleanor’s marriages evolve over the course of The Sister Queens. Marguerite began her marriage enthralled with Louis (who was, after all, pretty darn hot). Was she actually in love with him or merely infatuated? If Marguerite was just “crushing” at the beginning of her marriage, did she grow to love Louis? Do you think Louis was ever in love with Marguerite? Or was his attraction to her only lust?
10. Feeling neglected by Louis, Marguerite entered into an extramarital affair with Jean de Joinville, Seneschal of Champagne. How did this decision affect your opinion of her? Why do you suppose Marguerite was willing to commit mortal sin (sin that, if not confessed and absolved, condemned the sinner to hell) in order to be with Jean? Would you have made the same decision in her circumstances?
11. Eleanor did not expect to love her husband when she left Provence for England. How did Henry, more than fifteen years her senior and not particularly attractive, win her over? What factors in Eleanor and Henry’s marriage allowed them to live contentedly for so many years? Are those factors still important in modern marriages?
12. More than a dozen years into her marriage to Henry, Eleanor found their relationship strained and stale without quite knowing why. Was Eleanor’s situation realistic and believable? Do you think midmarriage boredom is common? What methods did Eleanor use to try to rekindle her husband’s interest? Why do you approve or disapprove of these methods?
13. In 1253, Henry chose to appoint Eleanor as regent in preparation for his travels to Gascony. He also made a will giving her custody of all their children, including Lord Edward, and control of all royal territories until Edward attained majority. The appointment of the queen as regent was not dictated by either law or custom (such an event had not occurred since the early years of Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine’s reign). Why do you suppose Henry granted Eleanor such massive powers? What does the appointment tell us about his opinion of Eleanor’s abilities? About his faith in her loyalty? Was Henry’s faith justified or misplaced?
14. Blanche of Castile was a major obstacle to Marguerite’s influence over her husband and to her involvement in the governance of France. Why do you suppose Marguerite was so slow to recognize her mother-in-law as her enemy? Once she did, how did Marguerite work to defeat Blanche? Was she successful?
15. At one point in the novel, Jean de Joinville told Marguerite, “Before coming to court, I heard that His Majesty cleaved too closely to his mother. These last days I have seen it to be true. The Dowager Queen treats the king as a boy, and thus unmans him.” Is de Joinville’s assessment fair? Why or why not?
16. Another obstacle Marguerite faced as both wife and queen was Louis’s growing religiosity. Did Louis’s religious fervor cross from a positive to a negative characteristic? When and how? Where, in your opinion, is the line between piety and religious fanaticism? Was the line different in the thirteenth century?
17. During the siege of Damietta, Marguerite was given her first real opportunity to shoulder the role of leader and decision maker. Did her handling of the crisis surrounding Louis’s military defeat and captivity change her? How? What, if anything, did it teach her about herself?
18. When Louis first returned from captivity, Marguerite found herself experiencing feelings of tenderness for her newly vulnerable husband. Were you surprised by this development, and why or why not? Should Marguerite have cared for Louis? Why (e.g., out o
f duty; because he had earned her affection)?
19. Eleanor was aware that the King of France had neglected and even mistreated Marguerite over the years. Eleanor clearly loved her sister; yet Eleanor was horrified when she uncovered Marguerite’s betrayal of Louis. Why did Eleanor find Marguerite’s adultery so shocking? Is it fundamentally more difficult for a happily married person to comprehend infidelity? When the sisters reconciled, did you have the feeling that Eleanor was able to forgive the sinner but not the sin? If so, how do you feel about that?
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