The Confessions of Catherine de Medici

Author: C. W. Gortner
Publication Date: 2010
Length: 397 pages
Cost: It's still newer, so Amazon has it for 33% off of the $25.00 price ($16.67). The softcover is listed at just under $10, and the Kindle edition is just over $13.
Where Did I Hear About It: I was made aware of Gortner when I picked up The Last Queen, which I reviewed here. This is actually the book I was looking for when I picked up the other one first.

The Backstory

It's hard to tease out exactly how people perceive Catherine de Medici, the subject of this novel. Many people can match her with the famous Florentine Renaissance family, but her personal story is shrouded in mystery. Perhaps her portrait "says" it all--a strong, unflinching woman, up to the challenge that the many events of her life presented to her. Above all, the word "ruthless" has come to be associated with her, and this is primarily because of her involvement in the St. Bartholomew's Day Massacre in 1572 during which hundreds of Protestant Huguenots were killed in Paris, France.

Catherine de Medici was born in Florence in 1519, and her parents died quite soon thereafter. Starting in 1520, she was raised by her aunt with her cousins, but when yet another Medici was elected Pope, this time, Giulio de Giuliano de Medici (Pope Clement VII), Catherine was moved to Florence to the Medici Palace there. As Catherine was the only child of the Duke of Urbino, she was acknowledged to be his successor. This worked against her when the Medici were violently overthrown in 1527. Pope Clement had his own problems with Charles V, the Holy Roman Emperor, at the time, but Catherine joined him in Rome in 1530 after the rebels in Florence surrendered.

Catherine was betrothed to Henry, Duke of Orleans and second son of King Francis I and Queen Claude. They were both 14 at the time of their marriage, which took place in 1534. Pope Clement VII died the same year, and his successor, Pope Paul III refused to pay Francis I the large dowry his predecessor had promised. This put Catherine in a rather odd, vulnerable position that she had not anticipated. Added to this was Henry's neglect of his wife during the first ten years of their marriage. Instead of focusing on producing a family with Catherine, Henry preferred the company of several mistresses, the most notable being Diane de Poitiers, nearly 20 years his senior. Things changed for Catherine, for the better, when Francis' first son, Francis, died in 1536, probably of tuberculosis exacerbated by his previous living conditions in Spain. Francis had no children, and the responsibility to continue the Valois line fell to Henry and Catherine. Still, it wasn't until 1544 when Catherine gave birth to their first child, a son also named Francis.

It seems that Henry never warmed to Catherine, although they had nine children together. His primary mistress, Diane, actually encouraged the couple to have children, and this may the primary reason why they produced such a large family even though there was no affection between them. In 1559, Henry died after a jousting accident in which a lance broke in his eye. This changed everything again for Catherine. Her oldest son, Francis, then married to Mary, Queen of Scots, became king at the age of 15. He was immediately surrounded by a Catholic faction at court headed by the family of the Duke of Guise. This faction was interested in prosecuting the increasing Huguenot population in France, although Catherine encouraged her son to be tolerant. Francis died in 1560, and her second son, Charles, succeeded him. Catherine was far closer to Charles--he was only 9 years old--and wielded considerable power during his reign. Not wishing to push the country, on the brink of civil war, any farther, she adopted a policy of general inaction against the Protestants. This didn't stop the simmering unrest throughout the country mostly controlled by the nobility. One of the leaders, Admiral Gaspard de Coligny, refused to disband a force of nearly 2,000 Protestant-sympathizers, and Catherine decided enough was enough. Catherine's Catholic forces, primarily under the control of the nobility of the affiliated court faction, struck back. However, at a siege of the city of Orleans, the head of the Guise family was killed in 1563. Unrest between Catholics and Protestants would remain a prominent political feature on the French landscape through the end of the century.

Catherine sought important marital alliances with the most prominent families in Europe. The most fateful alliance involved Catherine's daughter, Margaret, and Henry III of Navarre. Margaret wasn't much in favor of this match, and the couple never entirely got along. Margaret married Henry in 1572, days before the St. Bartholomew's Day Massacre. He returned in Navarre in 1576 without his wife, but she eventually joined him there. Eventually, after causing unnecessary unrest in Navarre, she was imprisoned by her brother, Henry (who succeeded Charles) in 1586 and spent nearly 20 years under house arrest.

Catherine's third son, Henry, succeeded Charles in 1574. Henry was an adult, and Catherine's role was not as prominent in his reign as it had been previously under Francis and Charles. Henry gradually lost patience with the Catholic court faction, and he murdered their leader, the Duke of Guise, in 1588. Because Henry had a childless marriage, he was forced to recognize Margot's husband, Henry, King of Navarre, as his successor. Navarre was a Protestant and living estranged from Margot, but regardless, he became king of France in 1589, eight months after Catherine de Medici died at the age of 69.

What About the Book?

Although this book is just as readable as The Last Queen, the story isn't quite as compelling in this novel as it was in its predecessor. There are plenty of interesting moments, personal challenges, and there is a huge cast of characters. Unfortunately, I think it is the fact that Gortner attempts to cover such a long period of time--nearly Catherine's whole life--that makes it difficult to keep the momentum in the narrative going from the beginning to the end.

Gortner again takes on the role of Catherine from a first-person perspective, and this is the same approach that he takes in The Last Queen. However, his perspective is more limited in this novel, and his lack of complete understanding of women peeks through far more. For example, when other women discuss Margot's narcissism, the solution proposed by Catherine and her other daughter, Claude, is that Margot should just have children and all will be right with the world. I see too many parallels between this perspective and this same mistaken assumption made by some men today to ignore it. There is more complexity in the character of Juana than there is in Catherine's character, and I think Gortner had a huge challenge in attempting to tell such a long story with so many events in only 400 pages. The story of Juana is much shorter, and it is clearly easier for Gortner to develop her character in that time frame.

I think one of the problems that can't be ignored by someone who has read both of Gortner's novels is how many similarities there are between them, and between the two women at the center of their stories. Both novels are "confessions" composed years after the events featured. Both novels attempt to "apologize" for and explain why the heroines did what they did to gain the reputations that history has afforded them. Juana is known as mad; Catherine is known as ruthless and cruel. Gortner tells their stories to try and explain the events that gained them these reputations. Both had troubled marriages, and they resolved these troubles somehow so their spouses, who preceded them in death, could die in peace. It's a little too neatly laid out for the reader--I think it wouldn't matter which novel a reader were to pick up first--he/she would come to the same conclusion.

Because the time frame in the novel moves so fast, it is hard to gain a true perspective of the conflicts between Catholics and Protestants in France at this time, and it is this conflict that is at the center of the novel. Readers don't grow to understand either perspective, but rather, to dislike both. Since Gortner's Catherine attempts to be sympathetic to both, it would only be fitting that the reader come to the same conclusion.

Gortner offers titles of other books at the end of the novel, again, which is an excellent touch. He also explains a few of the inconsistencies in the book and why he made the changes. As with any piece of historical fiction, some of it is accurate and some of it isn't. The series of events surrounding the St. Bartholomew's Day Massacre are pretty accurate, but the fact that Charles, Catherine's son and king at the time, is poisoned by Margot after being unable to live with himself after these events is not--Charles lived another two years after the fact, and it is completely improbable that his sister would have taken his life.

Rating: A 7--it's a fast-moving read with a lot of interesting events and people. However, Catherine's character isn't as well-developed, the book covers nearly her whole life in 400 pages, and it isn't as easy to buy Gortner's apology for Catherine's reputation for cruelty.
Buy It or Borrow It: Borrow it. It's actually well worth your time. However, I still think that The Last Queen is the better novel of the two.

Images:

Catherine de Medici by Francois Clouet after 1559

Catherine de Medici by Santi di Tito

Henry II of France, formerly the Duke of Orleans, by Francois Clouet

Gaspard de Coligny by Francois Clouet

Marguerite de Valois by Francois Clouet, c. 1560

The Tudors Fact Check: Good Queen Jane?

So, who was Jane Seymour? The Tudors paints a picture of a beautiful, young blonde woman who stole King Henry's heart and was a beacon of kindness, compassion, and selflessness. The king, his daughter, Mary, and the court mourned her sudden death after the safe, if difficult, delivery of King Henry's most longed-for son, Prince Edward.

But, is that really who she was?

In the series, Jane is discovered by Henry while he is visiting Wulfhall, the home of Sir John Seymour, a friend and former partner-at-arms of King Henry. During the visit, Jane sneaks a peek at the men eating dinner together. Henry notices her, and Sir John introduces her to him. He is immediately taken by her beauty, and he offers to have her installed as one of Queen Anne's ladies at court.

Henry begins to court Jane, who appears to be the paragon of maidenly female virtue. She is completely taken by the king's attentions, falling on her knees whenever he approaches her personally. Queen Anne is aware of Henry's interest in Jane, but she is unable to remove her from her service for fear of inciting Henry's increasingly unpredictable wrath. Anne is far less concerned when she becomes pregnant for the third time.

Henry, ever confident of his physical prowess, fights in a jousting tournament among his friends. Jane, newly arrived at court, is asked for her "favors" (generally a piece of ribbon or something like it) to give Henry luck when he faces his challenge. He tucks the piece of ribbon into the side of his chest plate, positioning it over his heart. Upon a charge, Henry is struck from his horse and thrown into unconsciousness. He awakens hours later, the whole court and his family frightened by the proposition of Henry's death. Henry later tells Jane that her image was before him in his subconscious state and that she represents all that is good and pure.

Anne and her family feel that Jane could be entirely ousted if Anne were to finally bear the son that Henry so dearly desires. Henry sends Jane a purse of coins and a letter, which Jane accepts. He also gives Jane a locket with his picture inside of it. Anne discovers this locket, demands to see it, and rips it from Jane's neck after she inspects the picture inside. Lady Margaret Sheldon (Madge) finds the locket later on the floor and gives it back to Jane.

The pivotal moment occurs when Henry summons Jane to see him. He sits on a chair at the head of a table, and he invites her to sit on his lap. He lures her into a kiss just as Queen Anne, several months pregnant, bursts into the room. She flies into a rage. Henry attempts to calm Anne down, hoping to save the life of their child, but, later that evening, Anne miscarries for the second time of what appears to be a deformed boy, about three or four months old.

Henry has had enough of his marriage to Anne, and he, working with Cromwell, mercilessly brings Anne down. Anne is charged with adultery, as are several others, including her brother. While Anne is in prison awaiting her fate, Henry is eager for the change that Jane presents him--her purity will mean his rebirth after years under the influence of the dishonest, power-hungry Anne and her family. Jane is pictured joyfully planning her wedding with Henry while Anne languishes in the Tower.

Henry marries Jane at the beginning of the third season of the program, and it is clear that this is quite soon after Anne's execution. Jane immediately demonstrates her mythical kindness by accepting Lady Rochford, the widow of Anne's brother, into her household given how bad circumstances have become for her since her husband's death. Jane also begins to campaign for the return of the Lady Mary Tudor to court and into the King's favor. Henry warns her that she is treading on dangerous ground by meddling in his affairs, and she immediately is quieted. Jane also learns that Lady Elizabeth Tudor is not given any money for new clothes, and she sends her one of her jewels to make up for the lack of funds.

Lady Mary Tudor is received at court again after signing a document declaring Henry the head of the Church of England and her parents' marriage to be unlawful. Jane encourages a more positive relationship between Henry and Mary by accompanying him to visit Mary and inviting Mary to court for Christmas as a surprise for Henry. She also invites Elizabeth, and she is received warmly by her father. In an intimate moment with Henry, she attempts to argue for the reinstatement of the monasteries in the north, but Henry again demands that she stay out of his affairs lest she end up like Anne.

Jane becomes pregnant, later than Henry would like, but it is still an occasion for joy. Jane demonstrates a craving for quails' eggs at dinner with Henry, and Henry realizes Jane's condition. He is convinced this is the son he has so longed for. Jane invites him into her rooms to let him feel the child move in her womb. Soon, Jane goes into labor, and it is hard and long. Physicians are sent in, believing that a Cesarean section may be necessary, but in the end, Jane, manages to deliver Edward safely. Henry is overjoyed. Within days, Jane falls ill--Henry recognizes her condition as "childbed fever," of which his mother previously died. He prays that Jane not be taken away from him; her kindness and goodness sustains him.

Jane dies, her body laid out in a chapel, Henry kneeling by it, whispering that he will lie with her soon, for all eternity.

What's the real story?

Very little is known about Jane Seymour, mostly because her origins are so obscure and because she was queen for such a short period of time.

Jane Seymour was probably born in 1508, and historians generally agree upon this year because, at her death, 29 ladies walked in mourning in her funeral procession, traditionally one for each year of her life. She was born at Wulfhall, which is in Wiltshire, and historians believe that she was in service to Queen Katherine of Aragon before working in Queen Anne's household. She may have been in Queen Katherine's service as early as 1527, but she may have been discharged when the Queen's household was reduced in 1533. However, she was probably already working for Queen Anne by the beginning of 1534--one year before Henry's "fatefull" visit to Wulfhall.

The story of Henry's visit to Wulfhall is certainly embellished after-the-fact. Henry AND Anne visited Wulfhall for a few days in 1535, and it is unclear whether Jane was present. Even if she was, this certainly couldn't have been when Henry first met Jane as Jane, even if she was first hired to work for Anne and never did for Katherine, would have been working in the queen's household for over a year by that time. This visit seems more significant for Edward, Jane's elder brother. Edward Seymour would be very significant later on. When Henry VIII died in 1547, he arranged for a council of regency to act for and guide the young King Edward VI. Edward Seymour, then Earl of Hertford, was elected by the council to act as Lord Protector of England and Governor of the King's Person. It's a position he would come to regret.

Henry was not knocked out by a blow in a joust, but, on January 24, 1536, his horse tumbled and he was unconscious for about two hours. Publicly, Anne claimed that news of this incident, brought to her by the Duke of Norfolk, was the main cause of her miscarriage five days later. However, Emperor Charles V's ambassador to the English court, Eustace Chapuys, makes mention in a letter sent at the beginning of February that Anne privately was worried about her potential inability to produce children and Henry's continued attentions to Jane Seymour. There is no evidence that the fetus was in any way deformed, and as Anne believed she was 15 weeks along, the sex of the child may have been unable to be determined with any certainty.

Henry did send Jane a letter and a bag of coins in March 1536, but in reality, she sent them back. This was probably a sign that Henry was summoning Jane to become his latest royal mistress, and Jane must have known what was in the letter if she sent it back, without opening it, and made the statement she did in response to its delivery. She kissed the letter, returned it to the sender with the coins, and claimed that nothing was more valuable to her than her virginity. If the king wished to send her money, she asked that it be done when she had contracted an advantageous marriage.

This was Anne Boleyn's trump card, played so many years earlier. Whether truly because she valued her virginity or because she valued the favors she and her family would enjoy if she held out from the king for a while, Anne did exactly the same thing. Anne won a king with this trick--so would Jane.

It is important to understand where Jane and her family stood regarding the reformation of the church, which was ongoing at the time. Anne and her family were reformists, and Henry had surrounded himself with people of like-minds while they enjoyed influence at court. However, there were many of considerable, long-standing noble origin who did not support the separation of England from the Catholic Church, and Jane's association with them cannot be ignored. In particular, this faction was interested in the restoration of the Lady Mary to the succession. Anne had also done quite a bit of damage on her own. She was well-known for her sharp tongue and hardened opinions, and this had resulted in the alienation of many who had been her supporters.

There is no written evidence of Jane's immediate association with Anne's enemies, but it is clear that she was Anne's foil in every possible way. She was quiet, humble, and submissive. She wasn't particularly well-educated, although she could read and write. Her motto was "Bound to obey and serve," and she embodied this to the letter. She was also not particularly attractive. Eustace Chapuys wrote to Charles V that "nobody thinks she has much beauty." Her portraits generally attest to that reality. What was she, then? Probably many things that made her attractive at the moment Anne was about to lose her life--she was a completely different personality, she was available, and the king had been paying her attentions and growing in ardor just at that time. Henry had given up his marriage to Katherine of Aragon once he had her successor secure. He seems to have sought companionship with women--not simply idle lust--and expected that he would be married, if not to one, throughout his entire life.

It is possible--even probable--that Jane was coached to be who she was with Henry. It won her a crown in the end.

Henry married Jane on May 30, 1536. She did argue for the Lady Mary's reinstatement, but she was quieted by Henry's demand that she stay out of his affairs. It seems that Henry was already softening to Mary's case once Anne was out of the picture. Cromwell obtained Henry's blessing for Mary to write to him on the same day. In June, the terms of their reconciliation were made clear to Mary--she would have to accept Henry as the head of the church and her mother's marriage as incestuous. On June 22, Mary yielded to most of these demands, finally later capitulating entirely. Henry and Jane visited her on July 6, and Mary was given funds. Mary returned to court after this, and Elizabeth would return as well. However, these were Henry's decisions and arrangements--not Jane's.

Jane's pregnancy was public by May 1537. Jane's main craving was for quails--not quails' eggs. The labor was extremely difficult for her, lasting several days. On Friday, October 12, she gave birth to Edward Tudor, Henry's only legitimate, living son. Jane made a good recovery initially, but she took a turn for the worse suddenly, and she died on October 24. How did Henry feel about this? Seemingly, not very touched. He had delayed a trip to Esher because of Jane's health, but it was reported that he was "determined" to be there on the 25th, regardless of her state by that time. However, it is also recorded that Henry assigned Norfolk the task of arranging for the funeral because he was "too broken" to do it himself. It is more likely that Henry's claims to be beside himself with grief were exaggerated niceties--kings didn't arrange for their wives' funerals customarily anyway. Everything was arranged as befit Jane's status. Her body lie in state until November 8, and she was buried four days later in a vault of St. George's Chapel. Court mourning lasted for three months following.

Henry did decide to be buried beside her upon his death nearly ten years later. Family portraits commissioned by Henry, regardless to whom he was married at the time, always featured Jane as his wife. This is generally considered a testament to the fact that Jane was the only wife who produced his longed-for male heir. Perhaps it is a commentary about how Henry perceived his wives' main roles to be. Whatever the reason, Jane, plain, quiet, and dull, was immortalized by Henry as his one true wife.

Verdict

The Tudors gets an 7 for events, but a 3 for casting Jane's character. Most of the events surrounding Jane and Henry are true or only slightly adapted. However, there is no evidence that Jane was extremely kind. It is more likely that her "kindness," especially to Lady Mary, was motivated by the desires of her connections to an anti-Boleyn, Catholic court faction. Henry certainly did not have the same ardor for her that he previously had for Anne. The series casts Jane as the light in his life, whereas she was probably more of a dull, and therefore more attractive, alternative to Anne's spectacular wit and alluring appearance. It is also more likely that Jane was acutely aware of where Anne's actions landed her, and she was probably unwilling to directly affect the affairs of court and of Henry's family in order to keep herself in Henry's good graces. Henry generally distanced himself from things "unpleasant," including death in any form, so the bedside plea to God for Jane's preservation is almost completely out of the question. Had Jane lived longer, we may know more about her and her character today. However, the idea that she was all goodness and light--or that she was even pretty--is a little far-fetched, to say the least.

Images:

Annabell Wallis as Jane Seymour from The Tudors, Season Three

Anita Briem (Jane Seymour) and King Henry VIII (Jonathan Rhys Meyers) from The Tudors, Season 2

Presentation of Jane Seymour to court after her marriage to King Henry VIII from The Tudors, Season 3

Annabell Wallis as Jane Seymour from The Tudors, Season Three

Jane Seymour by Hans Holbein, 1536

Jane Seymour, miniature, by Lucas Horenbout

Jane Seymour by unknown painter from the Cast Shadow Workshop, 1536

Prince Edward by Hans Holbein, c. 1538

"The Tudor Dynasty," a copy smaller of a life-sized mural, now lost. The original was done by Hans Holbein. The copy was done by an unknown, less talented, artist.

The Tudors Fact Check: Margaret Tudor and Charles Brandon

In Season One of Showtime's series The Tudors, the viewer meets several characters and begins to follow their stories. One of the few characters who is featured throughout the series is Charles Brandon, the Duke of Suffolk. In the first season, Charles and Henry VIII are close friends, sharing adventures, sport, and womanizing together. Then, things take a turn for the scandalous--Charles gets romantically involved with Henry's sister, Margaret.

Here is how the story plays out in the series:

Henry VIII asks Charles Brandon to escort his sister, Margaret, to Portugal to marry the old, decrepit king. Charles protests that his rank isn't high enough to warrant his taking on such an important charge. Henry responds by granting him the title Duke of Suffolk. However, knowing Charles' reputation as a notorious womanizer, Henry warns Charles about getting involved with Margaret. Margaret, on the other hand, isn't thrilled by the idea of being married to the King of Portugal or by being escorted by someone as low-born as Charles. She demands that Henry promise her that should she go through with the marriage, when the King dies, she should be permitted to marry who she chooses.

Charles accompanies Margaret to Portugal. Along the way, they become romantically involved. When they arrive, a terrified Margaret is introduced to the King of Portugal, and she is immediately repulsed by his age and pronounced limp. Regardless, she married the King, and he manages to perform in the nuptial bed. When Charles informs her that the English escort is due to leave, she smothers the King, suffocating him with a pillow. As a result, she returns with the escort, enjoying Charles' company on the way back. Both of them are at a loss as to what to do about their relationship. Charles proposes that they marry.

Charles and Henry's mutual friend, William Compton, breaks the news to Henry, and he is incensed. He banishes Charles and Margaret from court. Under these secluded circumstances, their marriage quickly starts to fall apart. Charles begs Henry for the opportunity to return to court, and, after winning an arm-wrestling match against Henry, he is welcomed back. Margaret returns as well, but, because she disapproves of Henry's relationship with Anne Boelyn, she chooses to spend more time at home in Suffolk. Charles returns to his womanizing ways, growing more and more neglectful of Margaret. Margaret quickly dies of consumption while he is at court.

What's the real story?

Although several sources claim that "Margaret Tudor" in the series is actually a composite of Henry VIII's two real sisters, Mary and Margaret Tudor, I fail to see how there is much of Margaret Tudor in either the story or the character presented in the program. The story is based nearly entirely on the life of Mary Tudor, and certainly with more than a few liberties taken. It may have been that the screenwriters didn't think it made much sense to have two regularly-mentioned characters with the same name, and decided against simply calling the character Mary Tudor (the other Mary Tudor was Henry's daughter by Catherine of Aragon). As far as I can see, the only "composite" of Margaret and Mary Tudor is the fact that Margaret's name is affixed to Mary Tudor's story.

Margaret Tudor was Henry VIII's older sister, born in 1489 and married James IV of Scotland in 1503. She was closely involved in Scottish politics during her lifetime and especially after her husband died in 1513. She married twice more after the king's death, and it is through her that her grandson, James I, had enough of a claim to the English throne that he succeeded Elizabeth I, Henry's last surviving child, known as the Virgin Queen.

Mary Tudor was Henry VIII's younger sister. She was born in 1496 and was rumored to be extremely beautiful. She was originally betrothed to the future Charles V, Holy Roman Emperor, due to marry him in 1514, but Henry VIII decided against this match after he succeeded his father as king of England. Henry and Mary were close, and their shared interests meant they spent a lot of time together at court. Henry, interested in cementing a positive relationship with France, arranged a new marriage contract for Mary with Louis XII of France who was, unfortunately, about 34 years older and apparently, not a very attractive prospect. Henry was aware that Mary was attracted to Charles Brandon, the Duke of Suffolk. Charles Brandon was granted the title Duke of Suffolk while Henry was working to encourage a marriage between him and Margaret of Savoy, the governor of the Netherlands. This ennoblement was also in response to Charles' father's involvement in the pivotal battle of Bosworth in 1485 in Henry VII's favor. Mary did, though, ask her brother for the right to marry who she chose after Louis' death, and Henry, eager for her to accept Louis, granted this request.

Louis XII didn't last long, although longer than the King of Portugal did, and Mary certainly didn't directly kill him. They were married for just over 80 days at the end of 1514, and there was some implication that his active, physical involvement with his wife put enough strain on him to hasten his death rather abruptly. Mary was rushed into seclusion after his death to ensure that she was not pregnant with Louis' heir. She was later kept in relative seclusion by succeeding King Francis. Henry dispatched Charles Brandon to bring Mary back to England. Upon his arrival, he learned that Francis was aware of Mary's feelings for Charles, and Mary demanded that Charles marry her then and there. Charles, taken aback by the situation and overwhelmed by emotion, agreed. Charles and Mary married secretly in France. Charles immediately knew this was going to be problematic, so he wrote to Cardinal Wolsey, Henry's chancellor and friend, to ask for help. Wolsey managed to plead Charles' case to Henry successfully, and they were allowed to return to England. They had to pay Henry back Mary's dowry, over a period of time, and beg the king's forgiveness. They were married again, publicly, in May 1515 in England.

Mary was close to Catherine of Aragon, and Charles' working against Catherine and in favor of Henry's divorce proceedings may have put a wedge between the two of them, although this is unclear. Mary and Charles had four children together during the course of their marriage. She exhibited signs of failing health after a bout of the sweating sickness in 1518, and she died, probably from cancer, in 1533. Months later, Charles married his ward and his son's betrothed, Catherine Willoughby.

Verdict

The Tudors gets about a 5 for historical accuracy. "Margaret" Tudor does marry an old king she isn't happy with, although this should have been the king of France. Since the timing of this is everything, and the series starts in the 1520s, it was probably necessary to change the monarch (all of this really happened between 1514 and 1515). She does ask Henry for the right to marry who she chooses later on. However, she had feelings for Charles Brandon long before she married him. The marriage was definitely an illicit one from a political standpoint, and Henry was angry, but not enough to banish them from court in the real history (and not enough to require that Charles arm-wrestle him for the right to return). The real Charles Brandon certainly had a multitude of problems with women, but whether or not this made him a womanizer in real life is a mystery. "Margaret" did disagree with Henry's divorce proceedings against Catherine. However, her death in the program occurs before 1530, and she lasted into the decade another three years. There is also no mention of the Brandons having had any children in the series, which they certainly did. The impression is given that their marriage was a short one, when it actually lasted 18 years. She dies of consumption in the program, but it is more likely that she actually died of cancer.

One of the best points? The story of Charles Brandon and Mary Tudor, whether portrayed on the screen or read as factual history is equally fascinating in either case. It may be a little much to call it a true love story from the historical standpoint, but it was definitely a case of truth being just as entertaining as fiction.

Images:

Henry Cavill as Charles Brandon, the Duke of Suffolk in The Tudors

Gabrielle Anwar as Margaret Tudor in The Tudors

Margaret Tudor by Daniel Mytens c. 1500-1503

Mary Tudor and Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, unknown artist, c. 1516

The Last Queen (Historical Fiction)

Author: C. W. Gortner
Publication Date: 2006
Length: 368 pages
Cost: The list price for the hardcover is $25.00. New copies are available at Amazon for $10.20, and used ones for $4.96, but these are softcovers. The Kindle edition is $8.25.
Where Did I Hear About It: I found this in the library stacks when I was looking for one of the author's more recently published books.

The Backstory

The admirably unconventional subject of this novel is Juana I of Castile, better known as Juana la Loca (Juana or Joanna the Mad). Juana lived a dramatically tragic life during which she was pulled between a variety of different self-interested parties. She is known as "the Mad" for a variety of reasons that seem to be at least somewhat fabricated. It is clear, however, that both her husband and her father were intent upon controlling her in order to control the kingdom of Castile, and, unfortunately for Juana, they were largely successful.

Juana was born in Toledo in November of 1479, the third child of the famous Ferdinand and Isabella (Ferdinand of Aragon and Isabel of Castile). Ferdinand and Isabella were the power-couple of their day--each of them held their respective kingdoms in their own right, and together, they completed the famous Reconquista of Spain, defeating the Moors who had inhabited the majority of the penninsula since the 8th century and initiating the first steps to unifying the country.


It was no surprise that Ferdinand and Isabella were interested in consolidating their position with other monarchs and dukes of similar standing in Europe. One way they accomplished this was through the political marriages of their children, and none would turn out more significant than Juana's marriage to Philip the Fair of Flanders. Philip was the son of Holy Roman Emperor Maximilian I, and destined to be his heir to his extensive realm. At the time, Philip was acknowledged to be the Duke of Flanders when he married Juana in 1496. During the course of their marriage, they had six children, but the marriage was not a happy one. Philip was rather insecure and subsequently power-hungry. He was also regularly unfaithful to Juana, and this didn't go over well.

A series of tragedies transformed Juana from a Spanish Infanta to the heir to the kingdom of Castile. Her brother, her older sister Isabella, and Isabella's young son all died within a few years of each other. Without other brothers or direct male relatives to inherit, Juana became the Castilian heir (her father, Ferdinand, was confined to ruling Aragon after his wife's death). Juana's mother, Isabella, died in 1504, leaving Juana queen of Castile with Philip as her consort. This didn't go over well with her father, Ferdinand. Ferdinand married Germaine de Foix, neice of the French king, in the hopes of having other children who could rule both Castile and Aragon (he was unsuccessful).

It seems that this is the time when claims that Juana was insane start to materialize. Philip announced that he believed that Juana was unable to govern due to her mental state to the Spanish court in 1506. Ferdinand lost a great deal of support from the Castilian court after he embarked on the French marriage, and he was forced to acknowledge Juana and Philip's authority. However, he also signed an agreement with Philip that stated that Juana was unstable and unable to rule, which could have either been an expression of the truth and the need to provide for legitimate government in Juana's stead through Philip or an expression of Philip's insecurity and desperate bid for power. Philip succumbed to typhoid fever in the summer of 1506, leaving only Juana and her claim. In order to further control her, Ferdinand had her confined to a convent in Tordesillas.

After this, Juana was never again directly involved in any events related to Castile. Ferdinand died in 1516 without a male heir. Juana had transformed from his political rival to his successor. Juana was visited by her now adult son, Charles, and she agreed to allow him to rule in her name. He continued her confinement for the rest of her life. It is here that she exhibited symptoms of clinical depression, but this could have easily been caused by her confinement rather than by mental instability. She died there in 1555, only three years before her son, Charles.

Images Reference:

Juana of Castile by Juan de Flandes, c. 1500

Philip of Flanders (Philip the Fair) by the Master of the Magdalen Legend, c. 1500

Isabel I of Castile, painter unknown, c. 1485

What About The Book?

This was a great read, and I highly recommend it. It was a refreshing change from the nearly endless selection of Tudor historical fiction. The novel is composed from Juana's point of view, and I find this to be an interesting choice made by a male author--very rare indeed. Gortner does an admirable job seeing events from Juana's point of view, but his focus is clearly events rather than delving into the depth of feeling that would truly make Juana a three-dimensional character. On the other hand, the events truly make the story--the reader is enthralled, eager to discover what happens next in this exciting, but tragic, narrative.

The author does a good job of casting Juana's character throughout the novel, although her relationship with her parents is a little underdeveloped, and her husband, Philip, had the potential to become a more well-rounded character. Juana's relationships with her mother and father nearly entirely seal her fate, and a greater understanding of these relationships would have made the events that involve these characters more understandable. Her relationship with her mother is woefully underexamined save a few key scenes and letters, and her relationship with her father isn't entirely teased out as fully as it should have been in the latter portion of the novel. In particular, some of her father's actions and decisions at the end of the novel seem out-of-place. In Philip's case, he seems to transform from one exreme to the other without much more than a cursory explanation, and a greater exploration of his character would have made the series of events connected to him appear more realistic.

The events are mostly true, although the author's spin on them from Juana's point of view is mostly--if not entirely--interpretive. The author provides a short Afterward at the end of the novel in which he mentions an assessment of how much of the novel was interpreted and how much of it was based on primary sources. I think he is a little liberal in his claim that so much of it was true and so little of it a sign of literary license--there are several elements in the plot that jump out to readers as "probably interpreted" by the author regardless. For example, Juana and Philip had started living apart by the time Juana was declared the new queen of Castile, but Gortner paints a picture of an abused wife physically and emotionally violated by her husband and nearly literally held as a prisoner in her own house. It is more likely that Juana had moved away from her husband, plunging into a form of cold indifference. I have to give Gortner credit--he did give a list of further reading at the end of his novel, which is something I don't think I have ever seen before in a work of historical fiction.

Gortner has a soft spot for Juana. It is clear that he doesn't believe that she was truly ever mad, and if she developed a form of madness, it was more explicably a form of depression developed after years of conflict with her family, and after years of confinement. There were several rumors that indicated she was mad, and Gortner attempts to explain those events and incidents in the novel in a way to dispel any assumption she wasn't mentally stable. In fact, because of this, it would help to have a general background in Juana's life and why people thought she was insane--and Gortner's suggestions for further reading are probably the best sources.

The novel is extremely enjoyable and a read that is nearly impossible to put down. The story of Juana of Castile is truly evidence that historical truth provides a much more engrossing story than fabricated fiction.

Rating: Between an 8.5 and a 9. It was a fantastic story.
Buy It or Borrow It: Since the softcover is so reasonably priced, it would probably be worthwhile to buy it. If you do, you'll have the list of further reading availble to you. My recommendation is to read the book, then read one or two of the suggestions the author makes, and later, reread the book. Trust me, it is that interesting.

The Time of Terror (Historical Fiction)

Author: Seth Hunter
Publication Date: 2010 in the US (2008 in the UK)
Length: 391 pages
Cost: The list price for the hardcover is $24.95, but you can buy a new hardcover from Amazon for $16.47. The Kindle edition is $9.99, and there is presently no paperback available.
Where Did I Hear About It: I pulled it off of the "New Books" shelf in the library.

The Backstory

The novel is set in 1793, and its central figure is Nicholas Peake, a young ship's commander with an exhaulted father and a none-too-conventional mother. Through a series of events, he is given a new identity (Nicholas Turner, American), a new ship (Speedwell, also American), and a mysterious cargo of tobacco to bring to Le Havre by the British government.

Turner falls in with three important people in Paris, Gilbert Imlay, Mary Wollstonecraft, and Sara Seton. Gilbert and Mary are romantically linked, and Sara, a friend, is the wife of a French aristocrat in exile in Austria. It is through them, particularly Imlay, that Turner is involved in the important events of the day. France is in the midst of the Reign of Terror of Robespierre and his Committee of Public Safety. At this point, no one is safe--countless innocent people fill the available prisons and batch after batch are executed by the guillotine daily. Mary stays out of the action by retiring to her home just outside of the city, and after a while, the reader will not see much of her. Sara, under a different surname, attempts to hide her aristocratic link from the authorities, living in Paris. Imlay is some sort of agent with some kind of plan that isn't clear to either Turner or the reader for most of the book. The only thing Turner and the reader know is that Imlay believes that the Terror has gone far enough and someone needs to end it.

There is lots of action in this novel, all following Turner. Turner meets with action at sea, both natural and with other ships, and he moves from England to France multiple times with new orders from the English, all centering around an attempt to bring down the Revolutionary government. On the inside, it is clear that all is not well in France as dissent is revealed from within, and notable potential victims of the Terror start to mount up, including Thomas Paine of American fame. It is clear to Turner that Imlay is playing some sort of double-game with him as well, and even Turner himself spends some time in prison. When Turner begins to figure out the plot and its purpose, the Terror comes to a head for all characters involved, and not all come out alive.

What About The Book?

This is A GREAT BOOK! Hunter has many things going for him--he knows maritime history well, he knows ships well, and he knows the time period well. This combination helps him write a really great story that keeps the reader guessing until the very end.

Although Hunter knows maritime history and ships' terms, he does not allow that knowledge to bog down the narrative. Even someone with no knowledge of ships can figure out what he's talking about when he discusses a portion of the ship that, say, is damaged in some way. He also knows the events during the Reign of Terror, and he manages to make them part of the novel without "forcing" them in, in an unclear or unrelated way. He puts a story together very well, focusing on the action rather than trying to explain every little detail of every possible event. For example, he jumps between what are clearly important events and many times, will leave out a direct description of what occurs in between those events, alluding to what may have happened in succeeding chapters. This technique works very well--the reader never feels like something was missing or lost, and instead, often feels a sense of relief that he/she doesn't have to plod through less interesting, and unrelated, events to the story.

The only drawback is that outside of the events and the setting, it is hard to picture this as a true historical fiction. It has a modern feel to it--modern in its beliefs, attitudes towards society, and dialogue. All women are pretty well liberated here, which is great from a modern standpoint but completely incorrect in the context of the times. There is a focus on the importance of money and the incorporation of a little too much of modern economic theory into it that provides a very intersting plot line, but is perhaps too much interpreted from today's lens. It is also very simply written with focus on action and dialogue--don't expect any long descriptions here, and for some, that will detract. Otherwise, it keeps the reader interested throughout, and all events are put to a purpose by the author.

Rating: A 9. It was great--a little too quick a read, but enjoyable from beginning to end.
Buy It or Borrow It: With a book like this and a price around $15, you can't go wrong to buy it. However, you won't lose anything by borrowing it, either. I do recommend you do one of those, though, because it is one of the best books I've read in a long time.

Artemis (Historical Fiction)

Author: Julian Stockwin
Publication Date: 2002
Length: 344 Pages
Cost: The original hardcover cost around $27.00, but new paperbacks start just over $10.00 now. There is no Kindle version available at present.
Where Did I Hear About It: I walked around the library looking for maritime historical fiction, and I came across this book.

The Backstory

Artemis is the second in a series of novels centering around Thomas Kydd, a young man impressed into British naval service in the 1790s. Kydd is accompanied by one Nicholas Renzi, a man with a mysterious, but affluent, past. This novel begins with the transfer of Thomas Kydd and Nicholas Renzi from the Duke William to Artemis, where they meet with almost immediate action, spotting a hostile French ship as the novel opens. Artemis is damaged, but victorious, and returns to England for much needed repairs. The crew is hailed as heroes, and for a short time, they remain on shore where Kydd meets his sister, and later, his family. After ironing out details at home, he and Renzi rejoin the Artemis, embarking on a mysterious voyage to India. The rest of the novel centers on the ship and crew's adventures as they all become circumnavigators, visiting China, several notable Islands, and rounding the Straits of Magellan. In the process, Kydd and Renzi meet with multiple challenges, including a young lady that piques Kydd's interest, a visit to China, and help lended to an English astronomer.

At the end, there seems to be promise for Kydd and Renzi in moving up the ranks of sailors. There are currently 11 books in the series, and the premise of the whole is to document Kydd's rise from the lowest-level sailor to the status of admiral. As this is the only book I have read, I am unsure whether the 11th book is the last in the series, or if there will be more to follow.

What About The Book?

Julian Stockwin has a very strong background in maritime history--he knows ship terms from fore to aft, and the novel is peppered with descriptions that would be the envy of the most widely-read scholars in the field. However, the novel suffers from several important shortcomings that are entirely independent of this history.

First, the ship terms will get in the way for anyone who is not well-versed in their meanings. Even more confusing is the dialogue, which is often expressed in a combination of dialect and sailor-speak when it involves the common sailors. There are also several "traditions" and "ship customs" that will make perfect sense to readers "in the know," but their significance is not explained for those of us who lack this knowledge. As a result, the novel takes on the character of having been composed for a specialized audience and not to entice those of us who lack background but abound in curious fascination and the desire for a good story.

The plot is another shortfall, and it is probably the most important. This book is too much a part of a series and not enough a novel in its own right. It is perfectly understandable for there to be loose ends meant to be addressed by future books, but that arguably goes too far and cripples this book irreversibly. In addition, the plot is a little bit too neatly laid out whereby seemingly insurmountable events and forces are circumvented without any consequence to the characters. This makes the action feel very unrealistic, and this tendency becomes so persistent that by the action rounding out the story, you already know everything is going to turn out just fine for everyone of any importance. For example, when Kydd returns to England after the battle with the French ship, he meets up with his sister. She convinces him to return home, against his inclinations, to help his father, whose wig business is failing. In a matter of a few quick chapters, what would be a nearly devastating set of circumstances for most is neatly tied up with a bow so Kydd can return to sea--Renzi conveniently turns up, a "brilliant idea" is formulated to transform wigmaker Dad into schoolmaster, and voila, Kydd makes it back to the ship just in time before it embarks on the voyage that takes up most of the narrative. If this were the only example of an all-too-conveniently laid plot, it wouldn't make as much of a difference, but EVERY conflict or event turns out very similarly without fail.

There is also a tendency for events to occur without much seeming significance to the plot. I suspect the purpose is to introduce the reader to "what happens on ships" but, if the author is intent upon producing a series of books, I am sure he will have (or has had at this point) ample time to put those events to better, more significant, use. At one point, an illness breaks out on board the ship, which is potentially devastating under the circumstances. Renzi, being "book-learned" is put to use as a surgeon, but this has no point at all as he basically does nothing useful to the plot--not even something bad that would be useful to the plot. In addition, although this is an extremely important event in the real-life experience of being at sea, the whole thing is up and done in about 10 pages with the losses to the crew being chalked up as "that's just the way it is." Basically, if this had never happened in the narrative, the reader wouldn't have missed it, so the reader must ask; what is the point? Unfortunately, this is just one example of the reader asking this important question--there are many, many others.

I won't wreck the plot or the end, but I will say that the novel wraps up with another, again pointless, event, leaving the reader to ask; what the hell was that?

Rating: A 2. It's an uncaptivating read that with a combination of the reader asking "huh?" and/or knowing in advance that everything will work out just fine.
Buy It or Borrow It: Don't go near this one. In a world with a 20-novel Patrick O'Brien series available and countless other maritime historical fiction besides, there is no need to pick this series up. There is a reason this series has not received very much attention beyond the hype of the first novel, Kydd. Given the attention to Kydd, however, that novel may be worth a read--but, if it is, you'll be sadly disappointed to continue the series any farther with Artemis as its follow-up.

Anne Boleyn (Joanna Denny Biography)

Author: Joanna Denny
Publication Date: 2004
Length: 327 pages with endnotes and an index
Cost: $26.00 for the hardcover, between $15.00 and $17.00 for the paperback, and on the Kindle for $9.99
Where Did I Hear About It: I actually found this in the library in the biography section.

The Backstory

There has never been a character who has fascinated the imagination and polarized historians more than Anne Boleyn.

Anne was born sometime between 1501 and 1507 to Thomas Boleyn and Lady Elizabeth Howard. The family home was Hever Castle in Kent, and Thomas regularly visited the continent during his career as a diplomat. Anne had two siblings--Mary, believed to be the eldest, and George, who may have been older or younger than Anne depending upon the year of her birth (he was born around 1504). Thomas' familiarity with foreign courts and positive reputation led to an offer made by Archduchess Margaret of Austria to have Anne as a part of her household. In 1514, Anne moved on to France to attend Henry VIII's sister, Mary, as Queen of France. Anne later transferred into the service of the new Queen Claude at the accession of King Francis I. In 1521, Anne's father recalled her to England in the hopes that her marriage to her cousin, James Butler, would end a dispute in the family over the Earldom of Ormonde in Ireland.

When these marriage plans fell through, Anne became more of a fixture in the English court. She made her first recorded appearance there sometime in 1522, and she participated in a pageant, much noted because of her appearance as "Perseverance" in it. She was, supposedly, briefly betrothed to Henry Percy, the future Duke of Northumberland, but a combination of forces (may have) worked against this match, including Henry Percy's father and even Cardinal Wolsey, then Henry VIII's chief advisor.

Anne came to Henry VIII's attention sometime between 1525 and 1526. Anne refused to submit to his advances, which only inflamed his infatuation with her. The result, often termed the King's "Great Matter" dragged on for years. It included Henry's multi-front attack on his marriage to Katherine of Aragon--his attempt to draw the French clergy to his side of the matter, his attempt to persuade the Pope to annul this union, and a trial in a public court in England. The result was Henry's decision to declare himself head of the English church, to sever from Catholicism, and to declare is marriage to Katherine null and void because of her previous marriage to his long-dead older brother, Arthur.

After meeting with Francis I in Calais, Henry and Anne married quietly, somewhat secretly, but with intent to legitimize an increasingly visible pregnancy. The date is generally given as January 25, 1533. On June 1, Anne was crowned and anointed Queen in a way never seen before or since--using the same crown of Edward the Confessor that was used to crown reigning monarchs (which at that point, had all been male--this crown was lost, supposedly during the Commonwealth under Cromwell).

Anne didn't last long as wife or Queen. Her first child, Elizabeth, was certainly a disappointment, but a succession of three other failed pregnancies was enough to parallel his failed marriage to Katherine in Henry's mind. In May 1536, she was arrested, taken to the Tower of London, and accused of adultery with five men, one of whom was her brother. The men were tried first and all found guilty. The verdict a foregone conclusion, Anne was sentenced to death at her own trial. Her alleged partners in crime were executed on May 17, 1536, and she was beheaded by a swordsman from Calais two days later.

On May 14, Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Cranmer, declared Henry VIII's marriage to Anne null and void--Elizabeth was a bastard and Henry went on, 11 days later, to marry his third wife, Jane Seymour.

What About The Book?

This book is very readable. Denny explains people, situations, and events very clearly without entangling herself in the details of the history or the sources. The biography covers the whole history of Anne's life, and it puts forth a number of new theories. Most striking is Denny's assertion that Thomas Boleyn was not the grasping, ambitious man without a care for his children that is often portrayed elsewhere. She makes a very convincing case for his having been a very prudent and loving father--a more compelling case than ever was made to the contrary. Denny reveals that Thomas was not in favor of Mary becoming Henry's mistress, and that he may have even recalled her from her service in France because of her licentious reputation there.

What's wrong with this biography? It is one of the most unapolegetically biased histories of anyone or anything I have ever read. Denny has no love for Katherine of Aragon or her daughter, Mary. She views Eustace Chapuys, the Holy Roman ambassador to England with equal scorn. Her theory is that Anne was an ideal paragon of Christian virtue and that she viewed herself, and her elevation to queenship, as her being anointed by God to promote the cause of Protestantism in England. Katherine and Mary just didn't lay down all to pave the way for Denny's heroine, and they are branded as traitors and plotting the death of King Henry.

Anne was clearly debased by her detractors after her death, and the fact that all of the sources available do not paint her in a particularly good light is a symptom of this. Denny is right to question these interpretations of Anne as spiteful, cruel, and ambitious. However, she swings the pendulum too far in trying to rehabilitate her reputation by trying to make a case (a poor case) for her having been all good instead. A lot of evidence to the contrary is famously written out of this biography--for example, Denny gives no time to Anne's arguments with Henry after their marriage, which seem to be a fairly well-known fact. She also refuses to detect any sign that Henry was tiring of Anne going into the third year of their marriage. As a result, Anne's fate appears to come a little too much out of nowhere.

Denny also sees Anne as a full-fledged Protestant--a fully developed version of what a Protestant may be today. This is short sighted. Although Anne clearly was sympathetic to the ideals of Protestantism, including the availability of the Bible in English, Denny forgets that Protestantism was a mere embryo of itself in the 1530s, between 10 and 20 years after Luther's fated nail affixed his premises to the church door. To claim that anyone was a Protestant, foregoing all of the trappings of long-standing, traditional Catholicism, in this period is in error. Denny claims that as much as half of London was Protestant by the time Anne was executed, and she uses this statistic as proof that Anne couldn't possibly have been as disliked by the people as others believe she was. There are too many reasons to enumerate why this is impossible--it just presumes too much.

One very positive thing that comes out of this is an understanding of just how few sources there are that really shed light on who Anne was. The same sources have been picked over and over again, but they must not be particularly revealing--especially if Denny managed to find enough in them to support a number of her very questionable, very two-dimensional theories.

Rating: Sadly, I have to give it a 3. The bias and presumptions that Denny makes in this biography invade the text too far to allow one to gain much by trying to wade through them.
Buy It or Borrow It: Just don't, either way. Although not focusing on her, you'll get more out of David Starkey's Six Wives on Anne than you will get out of this biography.