King René d'Anjou and His Seven Queens

In Short

This book offers a biographical exploration of René d’Anjou—a king of Naples, Jerusalem, and Sicily who was arguably more renowned as a poet, painter, and patron of the arts than as a martial sovereign. By focusing on the "Seven Queens" who populated his life—including his formidable mother, Yolande d’Aragon, and his daughter, Margaret of Anjou—the work maps the complex political alliances and personal tragedies that shaped the Angevin dynasty. It remains a fascinating study of how high-minded cultural pursuits existed alongside the harsh, often violent, necessities of late medieval European statecraft.

The Story

The narrative begins with the birth of Yolanda d’Aragon, the matriarch who would eventually steer the house of Anjou through the fires of the Hundred Years' War. Her life serves as the foundation for the book, establishing a pattern of female strength and political acumen that defines the subsequent generations. Yolanda is a master of diplomacy; she secures vital marriages for her children, including young René, and maneuvers through the perilous politics of the French court with a tact that allows her to manage both the royal treasury and the defense of Angers during the English onslaught.

René’s own life arc is marked by a series of grand titles that often masked his lack of true territorial power. His marriage to Isabelle of Lorraine acts as a central pivot in his early development, linking him to the eastern frontiers of France and plunging him into conflicts over succession. As he grows, his character is tested by the sudden death of his brother, Louis, and his own unexpected accession to the throne of Naples. These moments of high drama, however, are punctuated by René’s persistent dedication to his "hobbies"—painting, writing, and the maintenance of a sophisticated court where troubadours and artists are treated with as much gravity as captains of war.

The narrative reaches its most intense emotional and political peak with the inclusion of Jeanne d’Arc. The author positions René not merely as a peripheral figure, but as one of the Maid’s most steadfast noble allies. The story of their military collaboration, from the relief of Orléans to the coronation at Reims, highlights the tension between the mystical mission of the Maid and the pragmatic, often callous maneuvers of the French court.

The latter portion of the book shifts toward the tragic trajectory of René’s daughter, Margaret of Anjou. Her journey to the English throne and her subsequent descent into the chaos of the Wars of the Roses serve as a harrowing counterpoint to her father’s more sheltered, aesthetic life. Margaret is depicted as a "grim grey wolf," a woman transformed by the crucible of exile and loss. Her story ends not in royal glory, but in the quiet, desolate twilight of a forgotten life. Finally, the narrative settles on René’s later years in Provence with his second wife, Jehanne de Laval. Here, the focus turns to memory and legacy. René, having lost his kingdom and his children, finds a measure of peace in his art and his retreat, closing the book on an era of chivalry that has been slowly dismantled by the rising tide of modern, centralized monarchy.

How It Unfolds

The emergence of a matriarch The text details the birth and rise of Yolanda d’Aragon, establishing her as the strategic mind capable of navigating courtly intrigues and defending her lands against English invaders.

The training of a prince René’s early education in Barrois is described, showcasing the interplay between his martial responsibilities as a knight and his intellectual development under poets and grammarians.

The mission of the Maid The narrative recounts the divine intervention of Jeanne d’Arc, detailing René’s pivotal role in her military campaigns and the King’s struggle to reconcile his faith with the brutal realities of war.

The rise of the English Queen The story follows the young Margaret of Anjou as she travels to England, her initial successes in the political arena, and the eventual disintegration of her royal status.

The descent into tragedy The focus turns to the Wars of the Roses, where Margaret’s military leadership and personal suffering define her, ultimately leading to her lonely, obscure death in France.

The final retreat The closing chapters depict René’s final years in Provence, where he and his wife Jehanne attempt to preserve a refined, artistic way of life amidst the encroachment of their enemies.

The People

René d’Anjou is the book’s centerpiece, a "troubadour king" whose identity is split between his obligations as a monarch and his desires as an artist. He is a man who seeks beauty in a world of steel, often finding his best intentions undermined by political necessity. Yolanda d’Aragon serves as the indispensable architect of his early success; she is portrayed as the true engine of the Angevine house, possessing a "woman's wit" that consistently overcomes the pride of the men surrounding her.

Margaret of Anjou is the most dramatic figure, evolving from a "lovely and fearless" princess into a hardened, vengeful exile. Her story is one of profound loss—of her crown, her husband, and eventually her sanity—yet she remains an unyielding participant in the conflicts that claimed her life. Jeanne d’Arc appears as a brief, luminous force, described with reverence as a supernatural entity whose military genius provided the only hope for France. Finally, Jehanne de Laval provides a quiet, reflective conclusion to the book, acting as a steward of René’s legacy and a figure of stability who finds solace in faith and creative work after the storms of her husband’s life have passed.

In Its Own Voice

The author highlights the difficulty of René’s later years, specifically his forced exile and the loss of his family members:

"René and Jehanne went to Provence in 1473 in the guise of fugitives... He was heavily cast down by family afflictions."

Describing the harsh nature of the medieval court through a treatise dedicated to young René, the author notes the cynical tone of the age:

"Bon cheval, mauvais cheval, veut l’esperon; Bonne femme, mauvaise femme, veut le baston!"

Reflecting on the final days of Margaret of Anjou, the author captures her transformation from a celebrated queen to a forgotten figure:

"Alas! Margaret of Anjou came to her death, not in the halo of sanctity, but in the mist of mental obscurity, and thus she died alone."

What It's Really About

At its core, the book examines the precarious nature of legacy and the conflict between the ideal of chivalry and the rise of the nation-state. René represents the sunset of the medieval knightly tradition—a man who valued the "rose de Provence" and the illuminated manuscript alongside the shield and sword. The text questions whether such a person can truly survive in a world increasingly dominated by cold, calculating rulers like Louis XI. It probes the role of women in this era, arguing that they were often the silent, or sometimes strident, pillars upon which the entire structure of royal power rested, bearing the emotional and strategic burdens that the kings themselves were often too vain or too distracted to handle.

Why Read It Today

This book will appeal to readers who enjoy the dense, atmospheric prose of early twentieth-century historical writing. It captures a sense of pageantry that is often absent from modern, dry academic histories. The author paints with a wide brush, mixing the intimate, domestic details of court life—such as the Queen’s love for her poultry farm—with the vast, sweeping movements of armies and the fall of dynasties.

It is important to acknowledge that the writing reflects the attitudes of its 1912 publication date, occasionally favoring romanticized notions of "knightly honor" and grand narratives of providence. The structure can be challenging, as the author frequently shifts between biography, military history, and literary analysis, sometimes losing the thread of a single life in favor of describing broader cultural trends. However, for those who value a tactile, descriptive style, the work provides a vivid, if sometimes melancholy, window into the late Middle Ages. It is a book that stays with you, not necessarily for its objective accuracy, but for its poignant meditation on how even the most brilliant, artistic lives can be consumed by the relentless, grinding gears of political change. It is a slow, rich read best suited for those who appreciate the aesthetic of the past as much as its facts.