Eleanor of Castile,
and her relationship with her children
There are two traditions relevant to a consideration of
Eleanor of Castile as a mother here, on the Edward II blog. The first is the tradition that Eleanor was
an uncaring mother. The second is that
her absence from his life had a very substantial negative impact on her son,
the future Edward II.
The first of these traditions is buoyed up by the undoubted
fact that Eleanor did leave her children behind her twice - once to go on crusade with Edward I in
1270-1272 (with a lengthy return 1272-4) and again in the period 1286-1289,
when they spent three years in Gascony, trying to rescue the King of Aragon
from papal wroth. But these trips should
not be taken out of context. The reality
of the situation is that Eleanor was far from the only royal wife to go on
crusade – most of the principal crusaders, including the heir to the King of
France and the heir to the Duke of Brittany, took their wives with them. The fashion in this regard had been set by
Eleanor of Aquitaine the previous century, and reinforced by Louis IX’s wife
Marguerite of Provence in 1248. This
approach reflected that fact that for these young women their primary role was
that of childbearer, and in a world where children died so very often, they
might well be seen as falling short in their duty if they allowed their
husbands to go off for a number of prime childbearing years. And indeed, Eleanor added three children to
her complement during the crusade years, although one of them did not
survive. Likewise Isabelle of Aragon,
the wife of Louis’ heir Philip III, was pregnant at the time when he abandoned
the crusade.
Similarly the Gascon adventure needs to be viewed in the
light of the fact that, although the couple’s children were indeed left behind,
ranging from eighteen year old Eleanora, the King of Aragon’s notional wife, to
young Edward at two years old, it was actually envisaged that the trip would be
over in a year, not the three it eventually swallowed. These absences must therefore be viewed as a
competition of priorities, in which Eleanor’s decision to place her main job as
Queen above her children can hardly be said to be wrong.
And the role of Queen was indeed Eleanor’s main job. It was highly unusual for royal wives to have
a considerable close involvement with the raising of their children, at least
at an early stage. Part of this may be
down to convention, but we may realistically imagine that with such levels of
child mortality, convention reflected a self-protective instinct. If Eleanor had been as close to all her
children as a modern mother, it is hard to imagine how she could have emerged
from the years of childbirth with the totals: children borne: 16+, children
alive: 6, and kept her sanity. It was
mothers such as Eleanor of Provence, who stayed with her children for great
portions of the year, and insisted on being at Edward’s side in illness, who
were anomalous.
Nor should it be imagined that Eleanor had no relationship
with her children before they reached the age (about seven to ten) when they
would reside more with her at court. She
ran a considerable children’s establishment, and gave careful attention to the
details of their regime and routine. Precise
rules governed how much ale was available, and how many dishes at supper, and
how many nightlights. In the household
of young Henry, the second son who died in 1274, we can see records of toys,
buttons, shirts – and tragically in the weeks before his death a beautiful
white pony, which he was never well enough to ride. In the later household of Edward of
Caernarfon there are salmon pies sent to him, as well as provision made for a
(very hungry) camel for the children to ride, and (probably less popularly)
Dominican tutors to assist young Edward in his reading.
And Eleanor certainly cared to see her children – they were
sent for to greet their parents on return from crusade, and for the
coronation. In the peaceful years which
followed, regular stops were made at places where the adult and child
establishments could merge for weeks at a time. And in the Welsh years, the
children were hauled north to Robert Burnell’s house at Acton Burnell and to
Bristol so that such closeness could be maintained. What is more, as death
approached, Eleanor had them brought to her in Nottinghamshire – against her
mother in law’s urgent warnings of bad air.
But of course it was, at best, a simulacrum of the situation
where children are sent to boarding school from a very young age. Eleanor did not see her children’s first
steps, or hear their first words. And there were inevitably effects on the
relationship between mother and child.
This is perhaps best documented in relation to the eldest surviving girl,
Eleanora, who effectively saw nothing of her mother, but a good deal of her
grandmother, before her fifth birthday owing to Eleanor’s departure on
crusade. Eleanora came to court aged
about seven, but continued to spend considerable portions of her time with her
grandmother, and when her marriage appeared imminent in her early teens, it was
to her grandmother that she turned for what then seemed likely to be a final
family visit.
Having said that, clearly a close relationship was built
between Eleanor and her elder daughters.
Joan (of Acre), who was brought up by her maternal grandmother until she
was seven, rushed north to see Eleanor in her final illness, even though she
was herself pregnant, and had had a violent row with her parents over weddings
just months before. And Eleanor, though
unable to establish a sufficiently consistent regime to see her children as
thoroughly indoctrinated with her love of books as she would like, did nonetheless
produce in her elder children literate people: Margaret took books with her on
her marriage, Elizabeth was to raise a famous patron of learning and Eleanora
could actually write – a rather unusual accomplishment for a prince, still more
so for a princess. Mary, too could write – which suggests that Eleanor’s
influence may have directed her education even in the convent which she entered
at a young age.
And there will have been differences in the closeness she
established with different children: Eleanora missed the whole first five
years, but Margaret and Alphonso had their parents close for the whole first
decade of their lives. For Margaret the
evidence is slight, but for Alphonso, the child to whom Eleanor was probably
most close, she commissioned a beautiful psalter, now in the British Library,
with illustrations that bear the hallmark of her own input and their shared
interests. So a lady – very possibly
Eleanor - is seen hunting with dogs (as Eleanor loved to do) alongside a happy
small boy; and the margins boast over twenty different varieties of birds. Both Edward and Eleanor loved birds – and it
is fair to assume Alphonso did likewise.
But what of poor Edward, the baby of the family? While Eleanor’s concern for his well-being is
clear in the evidences I have cited, the reality is that from just after his
second birthday to well after his fifth birthday his mother was absent from his
life. What is more, there is reason to
suppose that when she returned she was already terminally ill and she died only
a little over a year later when Edward had not yet turned seven years old. To add to this, her final year was a
maelstrom of activity – picking up the threads of a business left running in
neutral for three years, and making her preparations for death, on top of
several marriage celebrations and plenty of travel. Only in the spring, substantially spent
around London and Langley where Edward was usually based, will the little boy
have had a chance to get to know his mother.
That in some way his mother made a powerful impression on Edward
is perhaps testified to by his adoption of her Castilian arms as his badge in
later life, and his determined fondness for all things Castilian – Kathryn’s
book (which I have been lucky enough to read in proof form) shows again and
again how Edward emphasised his tie to Castile – and indeed wished to
strengthen it in the form of marriage.
There is in this a strong feeling that Edward felt Eleanor’s absence –
and some of the accounts of his later household, with the little boy receiving
her old friends, as well as a succession of bishops and ambassadors, is very
poignant.
But one cannot help but wonder too whether the absence of
Eleanor was not most felt in the training Edward II plainly did not get in the
duties of kingship. Because in Edward II
as a man I see a person at odds with the job of kingship – and this may not be
surprising given that to Edward it surely must have seemed that it was kingship
and queenship which kept him at the margins of his parents’ lives. As Kathryn notes, his tragedy – and England’s
– was that he didn’t have the option to do something else – he was born to do a
job which was not at all to his taste.
Had Eleanor lived, it is she who would have superintended
his upbringing – and with more consistent discipline and focus than Edward I
(himself the product of loving indulgence) would be likely to bestow. Her family had written at length on the
theory of training a King, and she had herself enjoyed that kind of
education. It is a mark of this likely
approach that already, when he was aged five, she was ensuring Edward had
Dominican tutors. Had she lived,
therefore, it is likely that there would be no debate over Edward II’s literacy
and that his education would have been much better designed to engage him with
the job he could not escape.
However, the perfect education can only do so much. Eleanor’s own brother received the best
education in the world, but failed as a king and died alone, abandoned by his
family and deposed by his son in a coup in part orchestrated by Alfonso’s queen. An odd resonance,
don’t you think?
*
Sara, thank you for this great post and the insights you've given us! I've often wondered myself how much Edward knew about Eleanor and her life in Castile, and how much her death when he was only six affected him. In 1305 he called his much older cousin Agnes de Valence his 'good mother', and in 1312 addressed his wetnurse Cecily de Leygrave as 'the king's mother', so it does seem as though he needed and missed that maternal connection. Best of luck with The Shadow Queen, and I hope it sells many, many copies!
*
Sara, thank you for this great post and the insights you've given us! I've often wondered myself how much Edward knew about Eleanor and her life in Castile, and how much her death when he was only six affected him. In 1305 he called his much older cousin Agnes de Valence his 'good mother', and in 1312 addressed his wetnurse Cecily de Leygrave as 'the king's mother', so it does seem as though he needed and missed that maternal connection. Best of luck with The Shadow Queen, and I hope it sells many, many copies!
7 comments:
Thank you for the post, you have great friends! Edward II's Great Seal also had 2 castles on its face, on either side of the throne, to symbolize his connection to that royal line. (In turn, Edward III's first Great Seal simply added two fluers above the castles, symbolizing his own mother's royal line.) I wonder how different things may have turned out in the reign of Edward III if he had been married to a Castilian instead of Philippa of Hainault?
Edward II betrothed two of his children into Castile and one into Aragon. I also wonder if he'd have been happier himself with a Castilian bride - maybe Isabel, daughter of Sancho IV, whom Edward's uncle Enrique proposed as a bride for him in 1303. Edward does seem to have been very aware of his Castilian connections, and his letters to the kingdom in the 1320s show a good knowledge of the political situation there.
Great post ... interesting that Edward felt so connected to his mother's roots when he didn't have much of a chance to get to know her.
Esther Sorkin
Great post - a much needed bio of Edward's mother Eleanor. It's wrong to say she abandoned her children - it's the usual mistake of applying modern standards to different times. Even the current Queen Elizabeth left the young Charles behind when she went on overseas tours. It's royal life.
Great post , really interesting
thanks
Libby
Fascinating read. Discussing whether the medieval queens were good mothers or not is pointless, at least in my view. Different approach to motherhood, especially "royal" motherhood, plus the usual duties of queenship... There's no point in dwelling on the subject. They did care, they did love, but viewed their maternal duties and affections differently. Doeas this make them bad mothers? Thank you for trying to "transform" Eleanor from the MA and picture her as a modern mum- that explains everything.
PS I have always found the Alfonso Pslater the most telling proof of Eleanor's maternal love. Even if we assume that he was her favourite child.
A Good one too!
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