Inglorious Royal Marriages

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by Leslie Carroll




  PRAISE FOR LESLIE CARROLL’S NONFICTION

  Royal Romances

  “Leslie Carroll is well on her way to officially becoming the ‘notorious royal’ historian when it comes to nonfiction on royal couples of past and present. . . . For anyone who wants the facts delivered in all of their original spice—Royal Romances (and I can vouch the same for the other Royal books of this series) will have you hooked from the first page . . . and you won’t put it down until the last. Honestly, writing history as entertaining and engaging as this is truly an art. You need to add this one to your history book collection—it’s a must. Excellent.”

  —HF Book Muse

  Royal Pains

  “For those who enjoy reading about the scandals of the noble class and want to learn more about the darker side of various royal families, this is a thoroughly enjoyable, quick read.”

  —Booklist

  “If you love history and you love scandal, give Royal Pains a go. Between shaking your head at some of the antics and feeling glad Ivan the Terrible never picked you to be his Czarina of the Week, you’ll learn the odd bit of history. Or you could watch the non–Moogles and Googles shows on the History Channel, but those are few and far between. Stick with Leslie Carroll; her bank account and history majors everywhere will thank you.”

  —Book Slut Gwen

  “This installment in Leslie Carroll’s Royal series is as thought provoking as the first two.”

  —Historical-Fiction.com

  Notorious Royal Marriages

  “For those who tackled Hilary Mantel’s Wolf Hall, and can’t get enough of the scandal surrounding Henry VIII’s wives, [Notorious Royal Marriages is] the perfect companion book.”

  —The New Yorker

  “Carroll writes with verve and wit about the passionate—and occasionally perilous—events that occur when royals wed. . . . Carroll’s fascinating account of nine centuries of royal marriages is an irresistible combination of People magazine and the History Channel.”

  —Chicago Tribune (5 stars)

  “Sex! Intrigue! Scandal! Carroll’s newest offering chronicles well-known matrimonial pairings among European royals during the last nine hundred years. With a breezy and lively narrative, she gives the dirt on a parade of often mismatched couples.”

  —The Historical Novels Review

  “Carroll is a sharp and amusing writer. . . . You’ll be entertained like a tabloid would entertain you, but you’ll also learn as much as you would in a European studies course in college . . . a perfect marriage of a book!”

  —Examiner.com (Pittsburgh)

  Royal Affairs

  “Carroll . . . has a true talent for weaving fascinating narratives. Her entertaining writing style makes this one book you do not want to put down. Entertaining, impeccably researched, and extremely well written, it will appeal to all readers with an interest in British history.”

  —Library Journal

  “There are lots [of] royal romps cataloged in this entertaining, enormously readable book.”

  —Las Vegas Review-Journal

  “Carroll offers . . . insight behind the closed doors of the last thousand years of England’s busiest, bed-hopping, and head-lopping kings and queens.”

  —Book Fetish

  “This book is a historical work, but because of Leslie Carroll’s strong writing and her own personal voice it comes off like a delicious novel.”

  —Examiner.com (Pittsburgh)

  ALSO BY LESLIE CARROLL

  Royal Romances

  Royal Pains

  Notorious Royal Marriages

  Royal Affairs

  New American Library

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) LLC, 375 Hudson Street,

  New York, New York 10014

  USA | Canada | UK | Ireland | Australia | New Zealand | India | South Africa | China

  penguin.com

  A Penguin Random House Company

  First published by New American Library,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) LLC

  Copyright © Leslie Carroll, 2014

  In the U.S.: Lines from “Comment” by Dorothy Parker, copyright 1926, © renewed 1954 by Dorothy Parker from The Portable Dorothy Parker, edited by Marion Meade. Used by permission of Viking Penguin, a division of Penguin Group (USA) LLC.

  In the U.K.: Lines from “Comment” by Dorothy Parker used by permission of Gerald Duckworth & Co. Ltd.

  Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.

  REGISTERED TRADEMARK—MARCA REGISTRADA

  LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA:

  Carroll, Leslie, 1959–

  Inglorious royal marriages: a demi-millennium of unholy mismatrimony / Leslie Carroll.

  v. cm

  ISBN 978-1-101-59836-8

  1. Marriages of royalty and nobility—Europe—History. 2. Kings and rulers—Sexual behavior—History. 3. Queens—Sexual behavior—History 4. Europe—Politics and government. I. Title.

  D107.C288 2014

  940.09'9—dc23 2014001661

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

  While the author has made every effort to provide accurate telephone numbers and Internet addresses at the time of publication, neither the publisher nor the author assumes any responsibility for errors, or for changes that occur after publication. Further, publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

  Version_1

  For anyone who has ever been—in the words of the immortal Shakespeare—“madly mated.”

  You know who you are.

  Contents

  Praise

  Also by LESLIE CARROLL

  Title page

  Copyright page

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  Foreword

  HENRY VI

  (1421–1471)

  AND

  Margaret of Anjou (1430–1482)

  married: 1445–1471

  MARGARET TUDOR

  (1489–1541)

  AND

  James IV of Scotland (1473–1513)

  married: 1503–1513

  AND

  Archibald Douglas, 6th Earl of Angus (1489–1557)

  married: 1514–1527

  AND

  Henry Stewart, 1st Lord Methven (1495–1552)

  married: 1528–1541

  LADY JANE GREY

  (1536/7–1554)

  AND

  Guildford Dudley (1535–1554)

  married: 1553–1554

  MARY I

  (1516–1558)

  AND

  Philip II of Spain (1527–1598)

  married: 1554–1558

  ISABELLA ROMOLA de MEDICI

  (1542–1576)

  AND

  Paolo d’Orsini, Duke of Bracciano (1541–1585)

  married: 1558–1576

  &

  ELEONORA di GARZIA di TOLEDO

  (1553–1576)

  AND

  Pietro de Medici (1554–1604)

  married: 1571–1576

&nb
sp; LOUIS XIII

  (1601–1643)

  AND

  Anne of Austria (1601–1666)

  married: 1615–1643

  PHILIPPE OF FRANCE, DUC d’ORLÉANS (“MONSIEUR”)

  (1640–1701)

  AND

  Henriette-Anne of England (1644–1670)

  married: 1661–1670

  AND

  Elisabeth Charlotte von der Pfalz, Princess Palatine (1652–1722)

  married: 1671–1701

  CHARLES II

  (1630–1685)

  AND

  Catherine of Braganza (1638–1705)

  married: 1662–1685

  MARIA CAROLINA OF AUSTRIA

  (1752–1814)

  AND

  Ferdinand IV of Naples (1751–1825)

  married: 1768–1814

  PRINCESS MARIE OF EDINBURGH

  (1875–1938)

  AND

  Ferdinand I of Roumania (1865–1927)

  married: 1893–1927

  PRINCESS VICTORIA MELITA OF SAXE-COBURG AND GOTHA

  (1876–1936)

  AND

  Ernest Louis, Grand Duke of Hesse (1868–1937)

  married: 1894–1901

  AND

  Kirill Vladimirovich, Grand Duke of Russia (1876–1938)

  married: 1905–1936

  Acknowledgments

  Selected Bibliography

  About the Author

  “Marriages are like death. The time and season are marked, you can’t escape.”

  —Liselotte, duchesse d’Orléans, second wife to Philippe d’Orléans, the brother of Louis XIV

  Foreword

  “And love is a thing that can never go wrong; / And I am Marie of Roumania,” the American humorist Dorothy Parker satirically quipped in the Roaring Twenties, when the glamorous sovereign, one of Queen Victoria’s multitudinous grandchildren, was the most famous royal on the planet. The instant recognition of Marie’s name, and her reputation as the victim of an unhappy arranged marriage, have become lost to subsequent generations, but her rocky nuptial road mirrors that of countless royal spouses.

  Naturally, their ancient and venerated families expected these unions to be glorious—conferring additional distinction or fame upon their respective dynasties—not to mention “glorious” as in “magnificent” and “grand.” But all too often, the opposite occurred, and the royal marriages that began with such high hopes for the couple and the kingdom became inglorious—bringing shame and dishonor to one or both partners. Their marriages, and by extension their families, were instead disgraced by scandal and reduced to ignominy. Some of the unions profiled in this book were viewed at the time as inglorious because traditional gender roles were reversed, with wives assuming the reins of power. Or because they failed to fulfill their primary contractual duty by remaining childless for years. Or both.

  Because these royal unions were intended to be political and dynastic strategic alliances, nearly all of them were arranged, even through the Victorian era and beyond. No one expected the spouses to be in love, or even to love each other, and yet their families and friends would always act surprised when the man and wife barely got along and the marriage failed. A much-anticipated “glorious” life of glamour, wealth, and power was doomed or destroyed, not only by such connubial disasters as adultery or infertility, but by the banalities of real life and the natural emotional reactions to marital neglect. The only reason so many of these unions lasted was because divorce was invariably unthinkable or legally unattainable. The rare royal divorces brought scandal and disgrace on the entire dynasty. As Czar Nicholas II opined—at the end of the nineteenth century—when two of his first cousins horrified the family by calling it a day, the death of a dear loved one would have been preferable to a divorce. One wonders whether Nicholas might have felt differently had he been trapped in a miserable union instead of having the good fortune of wedding his one true love.

  Every royal marriage in this volume makes the hit parade of history’s myriad mismatches. And as much as it’s true that some marriages were more terrible than others, it’s hardly surprising that there were so many bad ones; several of the girls were only in their mid-teens when their parents sacrificed them on the altar of matrimony to grooms who were total strangers, barely older than their brides. For centuries, this practice was not considered unusual. Even nowadays, some couples do wed in their late teens. But they usually know each other before they get hitched; and, being commoners, their responsibilities scarcely compare to those of young royals of centuries past.

  The idea that these mere adolescents were routinely expected to make the weighty decisions required of governing a kingdom, to lead armies, set policy, and be the arbiters of the nation in fashion and culture is mind-boggling today. Their brains had not yet fully matured; how could they have the requisite judgment to wisely rule? By the time these children—and that’s what they were—had wed at the age of fifteen or sixteen, they had reached their legal, if not emotional, adulthood, and no longer had a regent to do the heavy lifting. Yes, they had ministers, and in some situations there was a parliament, but the monarch had a tremendous amount of authority and, in many cases, the last word.

  When you add to the burden of king- or queenship that of parenthood at such a tender age, as well as the fact that there was usually no rapport between the spouses, it’s no wonder so many of these marriages were miserable. But what if there were no children—a different problem altogether? Royal wives had one major duty, even if they were the rulers: to bear an heir for the kingdom. When trouble in the bedroom, for any number of reasons, resulted in childlessness for an extended number of years, or even for the duration of the marriage, it was the wife who was blamed. She could be sent back to her native land in humiliated disgrace or shoved into a convent and forced to become an abbess—the inglorious marriage annulled so that her husband could try again with a more potentially fertile womb. The world would know that she had failed her spouse, her family, and her country.

  More often, however, the couples remained together, although some wives might have found one of the prior alternatives preferable to the daily torment they endured within their marriage. Royal women were expected to accept their husband’s behavior, no matter what he did. If he strayed, whether from frustration, disinterest in her, or a hyperactive libido, not only did propriety demand that she remain faithful to him nonetheless, but she was to turn a blind eye to his infidelities. Some wives even had to tolerate the presence of their husband’s paramours at court, or worse, within their households, feigning cordiality in public while dwelling in a private hell they could never reveal. It often mortified them to be gracious to their husband’s mistresses, and sapped their dignity day by day. Imagine the emotional and psychological cost. But part and parcel of the woman’s role was to put up, shut up, and bear an heir—to be the well-dressed womb with no point of view.

  And when she crossed the invisible boundaries prescribed for her sex by evincing an interest in affairs of state or any area perceived to be a man’s sphere, including having the temerity to question her husband’s extramarital infidelities, she was cast as hysterical, a harridan, or an unnatural woman. Society was rarely kind to females, but in many ways, royal women enjoyed an even narrower world with fewer choices than commoners. They could not seek employment or professionally practice a craft. They might become patrons of artists, industries, or charities, but could never be entrepreneurs. It was imperative for a royal wife to be charming and gracious, but if she was outspoken or had strong opinions, she was viewed as a meddler. She was supposed to be elegant, but if she was too glamorous or flamboyant, she was derided for behaving like a royal mistress.

  Yet many of the queens and other first ladies of their respective realms managed to overcome their marital disappointments in a variety of ways, from taking the reins of power to
indulging in adulterous affairs. The aforementioned Marie of Roumania, who was compelled by her mother to wed her jug-eared, shy, unassertive, and boring cousin Ferdinand, became the “face” of her little-known country during the First World War, regaining massive swaths of land during the peace talks at Versailles through her personal charm and what I have dubbed “couture diplomacy”—simply knowing the right thing to wear!

  Others became warrior queens like Margaret of Anjou; yoked to the childlike Henry VI of England, whose sudden paralytic illness rendered him incapable of ruling his realm, she raised an army during the Wars of the Roses, hell-bent on saving her husband’s throne.

  Some royals were united with men who batted for the other team: For Marie of Roumania’s younger sister Victoria Melita, known as “Ducky,” things didn’t go so swimmingly in the marriage bed. Her first husband, also a first cousin, the Grand Duke of Hesse, preferred footmen and stable boys—which was less of a scandal than Ducky’s subsequent divorce and elopement with another first cousin, a Russian grand duke! The hypocrisy is astounding. Until very recently, divorced persons were personae non grata at the English court and were not even permitted into the Royal Box at Ascot, although for centuries, known adulterers swanned about with impunity within the royal inner circle.

  During the seventeenth century, Charles II’s beautiful, high-spirited sister “Minette” wed the younger brother of Louis XIV, her French cousin Philippe d’Orléans, a man who wore more makeup and perfume than she did. Although the duc d’Orléans was able to fulfill his marital duty with Minette, when she died young he didn’t find it as easy to propagate with his second wife, a butch-looking, zaftig German princess. One night, she caught him hanging holy medals about his genitalia, insisting that the hardware enabled him to rise to the necessary level of performance. Philippe’s father, Anne of Austria’s husband, Louis XIII of France, wasn’t particularly interested in women either. It took nearly a quarter century before Anne bore an heir. Although there were a number of miscarriages, absent a live birth she was blamed for the problems in the boudoir, and stigmatized for her barrenness.

 

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