Review: Ladies of Magna Carta by Sharon Bennett Connolly

The perks of the writer's job include getting to read advance copies of new books and I recently had the absolute pleasure of reading Sharon Bennett Connolly's new release:

"Magna Carta clause 39: No man shall be taken, imprisoned, outlawed, banished or in any way destroyed, nor will we proceed against or prosecute him, except by the lawful judgement of his peers or by the law of the land. This clause in Magna Carta was in response to the appalling imprisonment and starvation of Matilda de Braose, the wife of one of King John's barons. Matilda was not the only woman who influenced, or was influenced by, the 1215 Charter of Liberties, now known as Magna Carta. Women from many of the great families of England were affected by the far-reaching legacy of Magna Carta, from their experiences in the civil war and as hostages, to calling on its use to protect their property and rights as widows. _Ladies of Magna Carta_ looks into the relationships - through marriage and blood - of the various noble families and how they were affected by the Barons' Wars, Magna Carta and its aftermath; the bonds that were formed and those that were broken. Including the royal families of England and Scotland, the Marshals, the Warennes, the Braoses and more, _Ladies of Magna Carta_ focuses on the roles played by the women of the great families whose influences and experiences have reached far beyond the thirteenth century."

I've read all three of the author's books and in this new one she has kept up her impeccable standard, examining the lives of the women who, largely, have been kept in the background of history. 

I've always thought of Magna Carta as being something which male barons imposed on a male king, and had not realised the implications for the women of the time, nor that some were directly responsible for certain clauses being included in the document.

The book begins with a potted but solid examination of John's journey to the throne, his place in the royal family and the ramifications thereof. Then it looks at the tumultuous times which led to the sealing of the influential charter.

We move then to the de Braose family and a particularly gruesome and tragic story. (I'll give no spoilers here for those who don't know what happened.) I was interested to learn of Matilda (Maud) de Braose's early life and I had completely forgotten that she is the Lady of Hay (for those who've read the Erskine novel of the same name). We also learn about Loretta, her daughter, and the fact that the fates of these women may may have inspired clauses in Magna Carta. Loretta became an anchoress and yet still retained influence.

Next, the author revisits the redoubtable Nicolaa de la Haye, defender of Lincoln, and her admiration for this courageous woman shines through. We then learn about Ela of Salisbury, the wife of John's half-brother. She also became a sheriff and then a powerful abbess.

Also included in this volume are the daughters of the 'greatest knight', William Marshal, who made good marriages:

Matilda (Mahelt) married Hugh Bigod of Norfolk;

Isabel's second husband was Henry III's half-brother Richard, Earl of Cornwall;

Sibyl married the earl of Derby;

and

Eva married a de Braose, the grandson of Lady of Hay.

After this we meet the princesses of Scotland, one of whom, Isabella, married Mahelt's son. As hostages at the English court, these princess were referred to in Magna Carta.

No study of this period would be complete without the inclusion of the de Warenne family, and here we meet Isabel d'Aubigny who fought for her tenant's rights against the king and won (albeit temporarily), using Magna Carta to assert her rights.

We also discover that Isabella of Gloucester, John's first wife, was remarried to a 'toyboy' 16 years her junior but managed to make the marriage work. Then, widowed, she revelled in her independence to an extent, although she was still subject to the whims of her first husband, King John. She had to play hostess to his new wife, too, Isabelle d'Angouleme, and here the author pauses to give insight: knowing what life was like as a wife of John, she may actually have felt protective of her. Even so, Bennett Connolly finds she has little sympathy for her, but this appraisal is evidence-based and even-handed.

The story of poor imprisoned Eleanor of Brittany, whose brother Arthur's murder ultimately caused Maud de Braose's downfall, brings us poignantly full circle. Throughout the book we are given a great view of what was going on in various parts of the country around the time of Magna Carta. Sadly there are many examples of how little say in affairs some of these women had, Magna Carta notwithstanding. The charter certainly didn't help poor Eleanor. 

Joan, illegitimate daughter of John, wife of Llewelyn Fawr of Gwynedd, is one of my favourite ladies and here we get fabulous detail of how she survived adultery, retaining her life and her married status. And then there is Eleanor Countess of Pembroke, Simon de Montford's wife, and her poor daughter who married Llewelyn Fawr's grandson, but not without years of  enforced separation and whose baby daughter had a tragic life.

As I said at the beginning of this review, I was aware of Magna Carta and I am familiar, too, with some of the women's stories. What I had not appreciated was that the suffering of Maud de Braose dictated a clause in the charter and the Scottish princesses who were hostages, are mentioned in it too.

The book is a well-researched and thorough examination of the lives of the people who were affected, directly or indirectly, by this great charter. Everything is laid out clearly and logically and the author has an easy, conversational style which really helps the book to flow. There's so much information here - the appendices are great and there is an extensive bibliography - but it all sinks in effortlessly because of her natural writing style.

A must-read for anyone interested in this pivotal moment in English and Scottish history.

Find Sharon at her Blog, and on Twitter

Buy Ladies of Magna Carta at Amazon  and at Pen & Sword Books

Guest Post: Marian L Thorpe

I've had the great pleasure of reading all of Marian's books and so enjoy being immersed in her imaginary world which, in lots of ways, feels familiar.
I'm delighted that Marian has written for the blog today, explaining how she has built this world and focusing on one important aspect: The Ti’acha. Over to Marian:

My books – the Empire’s Legacy trilogy, the novella Oraiaphon, and my new release, Empire’s Reckoning, are ‘historic fiction of another world’. The setting bears a fair resemblance to northern Europe in the ‘dark ages’: between the decline of Rome and the Norman Conquest, roughly, but also many, many differences. There is no magic, though: they are simply stories of war and politics, love and loyalty, no different than historic fiction, except that it’s not our world. 
But one of the most frequent comments in reviews is how real my world, and I’m often asked to explain how I do that. I’m not sure I can: I simply write, with fifty years of reading about medieval Britain behind me. However, I’m going to try to analyze one important aspect of my world, and how I created that aspect: the Ti’acha, the schools that exist in the country north of the Wall, Linrathe.

In this scene, the narrator of my first trilogy, Lena, has been chosen to stand as hostage to a truce between her country and Linrathe. The Teannasach of Linrathe, Donnalch, is thinking about what to do with her for the months she’ll be his responsibility.


“Will you read? And write?” Donnalch asked.
"Of course I can,” I said, too startled to be more polite. 
"No, lassie, that's not what I asked,” he said, spreading his hands. “I asked if you will. Do you like to do such, I should perhaps have said.” 
"Yes,” I said slowly, with a quick glance at Casyn. “I have learned to like both; I have been reading the stories of our Empire, and I keep a journal, a private record of the happenings of my life.” 
“Then,” he said, with a confirming look to his advisors, “I know what to do with you. You were a bit of a puzzle, lassie, but now I have it: I will send you to a Ti’ach; a house of learning, as we do with one of our own sons or daughters who are drawn to the written word. Will that suit you?”


Ti’acha are boarding schools. Both boys and girls are sent to them for education: depending on which Ti’ach, the focus may be history and politics, or mathematics and science, or the healing arts, but music and  languages are always part of the learning, regardless of where. Children of the nobility mix with children of the peasantry: a keen mind, not status, gains you entrance.

Where did the idea come from? Like almost everything in my fictional world, the concept has some basis in history: the monastic and cathedral schools of Ireland, Scotland, and England. 

In Ireland, the monastic movement began in the mid-500s, possibly at the monastery of Clonard, and spread out across Ireland and into what is now Scotland. Most monasteries had a school attached, and not just for the young men who had a religious vocation, but for youth who would take their place in government or the military. Boys of the land-holding class, for the most part. Latin and Greek were part of their education, as was a study of not just religious texts, but classical authors such as Virgil and Socrates, as well as mathematics, astronomy, and music. The equivalents in my world are what are taught at the Ti’ach – actually, all I did was change the names of the Greek and Roman writers. I’ve used some classical writers – notably Marcus Aurelius, who becomes Catilius in my books – verbatim. 

When Lena arrives at the Ti’ach, she learns a man named Perras is the Comiádh, or head of school. This is another borrowed concept. In his 1906 book A Smaller Social History of Ancient Ireland, (which may be a rather romanticized view) Patrick Joyce tells us of the Fer-leginn, the ‘man of learning’ who was responsible for the educational direction of the school, in concert with the abbot, who was responsible for the religious aspects of the monastery. Christianity doesn’t exist in my invented world, so there is no abbot. However, there is the ‘Lady’ of the Ti’ach, Dagney, who is also the scáeli (bard) attached to the house. Her authority is equal to that of Perras, but whereas he teaches history and politics, and the language that corresponds to Latin, she teaches music and literature.

Dagney’s teaching and her specialities are based on the traditional bardic schools, which may have existed in pre-Christian Ireland, taught (perhaps) by Druids and likely by bards. They concentrated on the passing on of oral history and literature, continuing in some form into the 19th century. In my Ti’acha, I simply combined the two. Is it accurate? No. Does it feel familiar? Yes, and that’s what I was aiming for.

Not all education occurs at the Ti’acha, however. Younger children of landholders, or those not suited to the rigors of advanced study, are frequently taught by a travelling teacher. Taught themselves at the Ti’acha, these journeying teachers may stay for a season or a number of years. Here I drew on a long tradition throughout Europe of itinerant teachers, priests and otherwise, attached both to noble households and wealthier towns. 

But – including women in the Ti’acha? Well, women in the real early-medieval world weren’t all as badly educated as popular culture would have us believe, but neither were they included in mixed schools. Daughters of the nobility could be tutored in mathematics and sciences, languages and history; nuns in certain houses were taught Latin and Greek. I deviated quite a bit from real history, but I had my reasons: the exploration and challenging of gender roles is one of the themes of the series. 

The role of the Ti’acha in politics and diplomacy will become a central theme in the planned next trilogy, Empire’s Reprise, borrowing from one of the roles played by the English scholar Alcuin at the court of Charlemagne, in the mid-700s, and that of Columba of Iona two hundred years earlier, when he undertook diplomatic negotiations between the Kingdom of Dalriada and the Kingdom of Ireland. Diplomacy needs educated, agile minds, so I have little doubt those who acted as envoys and negotiators were taught well, either at the monastic schools or by teachers who themselves had learned there.

I also had a solid vision of what the school looked like, based not at all on the monastic schools and entirely on the farmhouse and related outbuildings near the Roman fort of Vindolanda. Completely the wrong era, but it gave me a structure to work with, and a geography of the school and its surrounding area.

The Ti'ach

This is the history behind one aspect of my world. I realize it doesn’t truly explain how I created the Ti’acha and their roles, but that’s a matter of taking these facts, mixing them together with the themes of my books, baking them in the creativity of my subconscious, and hoping what emerges is palatable. I cook like that, too.

Many thanks to Marian. If you want to read her books - and I heartily recommend them - you can find her website here:
https://marianlthorpe.com/