Four Sisters, All Queens (3 page)

THE COURT IN FRANCE

Marguerite de Provence,
Queen Consort of France

Louis IX,
King of France

Blanche, Isabelle, Louis, Philip, Jean Tristan, Peter, Blanche, Marguerite, Robert, Agnes,
their children

Blanche de Castille,
Queen Dowager of France

Isambour of Denmark, (formerly Ingeborg)
Queen Dowager of France, widow of King Philip Augustus

Robert,
Louis’s brother

Matilda,
Robert’s wife

Alphonse,
Louis’s brother

Jeanne de Toulouse,
Alphonse’s wife

Isabelle,
Louis’s sister

Charles,
Louis’s brother

Gisele,
Marguerite’s handmaid

Thibaut,
Count of Champagne and King of Navarre, Blanche’s cousin

Jean de Joinville,
Thibaut’s seneschal, Louis’s favorite, and Marguerite’s closest friend

Geoffrey of Beaulieu,
Louis’s confessor

Bartolomeu le Roie,
Louis’s chamberlain

Raimond of Toulouse,
Count of Toulouse and Blanche’s cousin

Pierre Mauclerc,
Count of Brittany, a leader of a thwarted rebellion against Louis

Hugh of Lusignan,
Count of La Marche and Angoulême, husband of Queen Isabella of Angoulême, mother of King Henry III and leader, with Pierre of Brittany, of an attempt to overthrow King Louis

Isabella of Angoulême,
King Henry III’s mother, former Queen of England, now Countess of La Marche and Angoulême

St. Pol,
Guy II of Châtillon, the Count of St. Pol and a fearsome knight

THE COURT IN ENGLAND

Eléonore of Provence,
Queen Consort of England

Henry III,
King of England

Edward, Margaret, Beatrice, Edmund, Katharine,
their children

Guillaume of Savoy,
Eléonore’s uncle, bishop of Valence, prince-bishop of Liège

Thomas of Savoy,
Eléonore’s uncle, Count of Flanders

Peter of Savoy,
Eléonore’s uncle, Earl of Richmond, later Count of Savoy

Boniface of Savoy,
archbishop of Canterbury

Eleanor Marshal,
Henry’s sister, Countess of Leicester

Simon de Montfort,
Count of Leicester, Henry’s seneschal, Eleanor Marshal’s husband

Richard of Cornwall,
Henry’s brother, Earl of Cornwall

Margaret Biset,
Eléonore’s handmaid

Gilbert Marshal,
Earl of Pembroke

Hubert de Burgh,
Earl of Kent, justiciar of England and Ireland

Roger de Quincy,
Earl of Winchester

Roger Mortimer,
baron and ally to King Henry III

Dame Maud of Mortimer

Gilbert de Clare,
Earl of Gloucester

John Maunsell,
chancellor

Robert Walerand,
chancellor

Hamo Lestrange, Roger Mortimer, Roger Leybourne, Henry of Almain,
Edward’s companions

Ebulo Montibus,
protégé of Peter of Savoy, Eléonore’s uncle, and companion to Edward

THE COURT IN PROVENCE

Beatrice of Savoy,
Countess of Provence

Ramon Berenger,
Count of Provence

Marguerite, Eléonore, Sanchia, Beatrice,
their daughters

Romeo de Villeneuve,
the count’s seneschal (steward)

Madeleine,
the girls’ nursemaid

Gaston,
the falconer

Sordel,
a troubadour

Beatrice of Provence,
Countess of Provence

Charles d’Anjou,
Count of Provence

THE COURT IN CORNWALL

Sanchia of Provence,
Queen of Germany, Countess of Cornwall

Richard of Cornwall,
King of Germany, Count of Cornwall

Henry of Almain,
Richard’s son and heir

Edmund, Richard,
Sanchia and Richard’s children

Justine,
Sanchia’s handmaid

Mr. Arnold,
Richard’s seneschal

Abraham of Berkhamsted,
collector of the Jewish tax

Floria,
Abraham’s wife

Joan de Valletort,
Baroness of Tremberton, Richard’s mistress

I
, B
EATRICE OF
S
AVOY
, am mother to four queens. What other woman in the history of the world could make this claim? None, I warrant, and none ever will.

Yes, I am boasting. Why shouldn’t I? Do you think my daughters rose to such heights by happenstance? A woman achieves nothing in this man’s world without careful plotting. I began scheming for my girls before I even held my eldest, Marguerite, in my arms.

Margi was no ordinary child. She spoke in sentences before her first birthday. But then, she is a Savoy, and we are no ordinary family. If we were, we would not have become guardians of the Alpine passes and rulers of an expanding domain, as well as friends of kings, emperors, and popes. How did we achieve such feats? Not by brutish battles and conquests, but with shrewd alliances and strategic marriages. My children, too, would marry well, I determined, and increase our family’s influence as never before.

Here is how I fulfilled this vow: I raised my daughters as if they were sons.

Oh ho! I see shock on your face. Are you surprised also, then, to learn that I called them “boys”? Having taken my schooling alongside five of my eight brothers—in philosophy, Latin, astronomy, mathematics, logic, diplomacy, debate, hunting, archery, even swordplay—I recognized this: knowledge is the key to power. Why do you think men reserve it for themselves, leaving only fluff and nonsense for girls? What good to a girl are needlework, curtseying, drawing pictures, and feigning interest while a man prattles on
and on about himself? These endeavors—the essence of feminine schooling—serve only to enhance men, and to diminish women. Wanting success for my girls, I taught them as though they were boys, endowing them with true power—the kind that comes from within.

When Margi was nearly of age, I enlisted my brothers to find a king for her to marry. Being Savoyards, we plotted. Amadeus, Guillaume, and Thomas praised her beauty, intelligence, and piety in courts near and far, and before every guest they entertained. Meanwhile, I charmed Sordel, the troubadour, to write a song in her honor, then paid him handsomely—with gold and, yes, kisses, but not the prize he preferred—to perform it before the French King Louis IX. Thusly captivated, the king sought Margi’s hand—and before long, my four daughters were queens of the world.

I would have made them kings, if I could. Instead, I made them mothers of kings. It was the best I could do for them, and for the House of Savoy—for my family—now and in the future.

Family is everything. Nothing else matters. All other bonds may be broken—friendship, marriage, even queenship—except the ties that bind us to our relations. This is the second lesson I taught to my daughters: Family comes first. To my great sorrow, however, my words fell against their ears and bounced away, like seeds on a bed of stones.

If only they would heed my admonishments now, and help one another. Instead, they seem intent on tearing one another, and our family, apart. And I? I cajole, and advise, and lecture—and avert my gaze from them lest I cry a weak woman’s tears. O, how it breaks my heart to see my girls suffer.

Marguerite