Moniek Bloks's Blog, page 122

Caroline Augusta of Bavaria – A domestic pearl (Part two)

Read part one here.

Caroline Augusta was still much grieved over her failed first marriage and had spent a lot of time in tears. The surprise was thus very great when she was finally informed. Her stepmother wrote to her, “You are in a fine embarrassment, my poor Charlotte, I can understand your situation. If you have no real affection for the Grand Duke, I mean, you might be very happy with the other too, and it seems to me your father would be if you made that choice. For the rest, he also leaves the decision to you. Your happiness takes priority over everything else. . . May God guide you and, in one case or another, make you as happy as I wish.”1

Caroline Augusta chose the Emperor, and the Grand Duke voluntarily withdrew his proposal. The proxy wedding took place on 29 October 1816 in Munich. After the ceremony, her brother Ludwig embraced and told her, “My wish for you is that every year may bring you greater happiness in your married life, as it does to your brother.”2 Caroline Augusta had gone to the altar believing she would remain unhappy but her second marriage turned out to be far happier than she had dared to hope. On 10 November 1816, the two were married in person. Although the marriage would remain childless, Caroline Auguste became the stepmother of his children. Caroline Auguste and her eldest stepdaughter Marie Louise were only one year apart in age.

Five of his children still lived at court, and although they were not quite so young, they still required guidance. Caroline Augusta was very fond of the children and was quickly accepted by them. Leopoldine, later Empress of Brazil, wrote to her elder sister Marie Louise, “I like my new mom more and more. I am very touched by her kindness and love, and if I can ever contribute to making her happy, I will certainly do with all my heart.”3 Francis later described Caroline Augusta as his “domestic pearl.”4 She called him “the little man of her heart” or her “best sweetheart.”5

Also at court was Marie Louise’s son with Emperor Napoleon, the Duke of Reichstadt, then known by the German name Franz. Caroline Augusta was besotted with “Little Napoleon” and pampered him. Her own childlessness was a particular source of disappointment for her, and she told Baroness Louise Sturmfeder, “I could never have imagined greater happiness as having children. I wished it very much, but dear God did not grant me this wish.”6

Caroline Augusta had no political influence at the court, despite her brother Ludwig repeatedly asking for her intervention. She wrote to him, “I am very close to the centre, but not in the centre, and I have no influence whatsoever on the decisions taken or to be taken there.”7 She was perhaps best known for her charitable works, and she founded Catholic private schools, supported poor houses, orphanages, educational institutions and hospitals. If she could not become a mother, she would become the mother of the nation.

In 1824, Caroline Augusta’s half-sister Sophie married her stepson Franz Karl. Her husband’s eldest son was Archduke Ferdinand, but he suffered from epilepsy and hydrocephalus, and he had a speech impediment. Thus, it was up to Franz Karl and Sophie to provide the next generation of Habsburgs. Caroline Augusta had promoted the match and wrote to her brother Ludwig, “I’m beside myself with joy. It’s like I have two lives now.”8 The two sisters, whose age difference had once meant that they barely knew each other, now had a new chance at getting to know each other, and Caroline Augusta helped Sophie settle in.

Sophie provided the Habsburgs with four sons, including the future Emperor Franz Joseph I and the future Emperor Maximilian I of Mexico, and a short-lived daughter. After the birth of Franz Joseph, Caroline Augusta wrote, “Good God, those were 43 terrible hours spent in agony, and we are all broken.”9 Francis was delighted by these grandchildren in his final years, and Caroline Auguste adored them as well. Sophie was now “her dear sister and daughter-in-law.”10

On 2 March 1835, Caroline Augusta’s happy marriage came to an end with the sudden death of her husband. At the end of February, he had suddenly become very ill with pneumonia. He began to set his affairs in order and even left a blank clause in his will where the name of Klemens von Metternich, Chancellor of the Austrian Empire, could be filled in so that the inept Ferdinand would have to take his advice. He also asked his son to take care of Caroline Augusta. Caroline Augusta continued to hope for a miracle, even after the Extreme Unction was given. It was no use – Francis died at the age of 67. For a long time, she prayed by the side of the bed.

After her husband’s death, Caroline Augusta set up court in Salzburg, where she continued her charitable work. Her husband was succeeded by his eldest son Ferdinand, but when he abdicated in 1848 in favour of his nephew Franz Joseph, Caroline Augusta only found out afterwards. She wrote to “Dear Franz” that she would pray for him.11 She also remained in contact with Ferdinand and his wife. However, as the years passed, Caroline Augusta became lonely, and she began to outlive her family.

In January 1873, she fell ill with a pulmonary catarrh with a severe fever, and as she had no appetite, she quickly deteriorated. On 9 February, the day after her 81st birthday, she died in Vienna. She was buried in the Imperial Crypt close to her husband and his three previous wives.

The post Caroline Augusta of Bavaria – A domestic pearl (Part two) appeared first on History of Royal Women.

Caroline Augusta of Bavaria – A victim of politics (Part one)

Caroline Augusta of Bavaria was born on 8 February 1792 as the third but second surviving daughter of the future King Maximilian I Joseph of Bavaria by his first wife, Augusta Wilhelmine of Hesse-Darmstadt. She was baptised the following day with the names Charlotte Augusta, and she really only became known as Caroline after her second marriage. In 1794, Caroline Augusta and her mother had to flee the French who were attacking Mannheim, and they were miraculously unharmed. Unfortunately, little Caroline Augusta came down with smallpox that very same year, and it left visible scars.

She was just four years old when her mother died – just eight months after the birth of Caroline Augusta’s younger brother Karl Theodor. She had had delicate lungs all her life and eventually succumbed to lung disease – she was still only 30 years old. Since her father had not yet become King of Bavaria, her mother was not known as Queen. Although she was still quite young when her mother died, Caroline Augusta kept her memory alive with a necklace of her mother’s portrait and a lock of her hair. Barely a year later, her father remarried Caroline of Baden. This second marriage gave Caroline Augusta eight half-siblings, though only five half-sisters would survive to adulthood, including two sets of twins.

Young Caroline Augusta was appointed a tutor by the name of Camilla von Andlau-Homburg, who soon became a second mother to her. She learned foreign languages such as French and Italian and received music, dance and painting lessons.

Her religious education was entrusted to Joseph Anton Sambuga. Caroline Augusta’s first communion took place in 1803. She was still very young when the first talks of marriage appeared; the first suitor was the future King Ferdinand VII of Spain. However, Bavaria was backed by Napoleon, and he did not approve of the match. However, her elder sister Augusta did make a Napoleon-approved match – she was married to his stepson Eugène de Beauharnais in 1806.

This had been precipitated by the elevation of Bavaria to a Kingdown by the Treaty of Pressburg, and from 1 January 1806, her father was King Maximilian I Joseph of Bavaria. Around this time, Caroline Auguste was described as “still a child, rather short and not at all pretty, her face disfigured by smallpox, but with a sweet expression; she was modest, distinguished, and very likeable.”1 William, Crown Prince of Württemberg feared that Napoleon would force him into a French match, and so he wished to become engaged as quickly as possible. His eye had fallen upon Caroline Auguste, and Napoleon made no objection to the match. The wedding was set for 8 June 1808.

It was definitely not a love match, and William treated her with coldness and indifference. After the wedding ceremony, he told her, “we are the victims of politics.”2 However, the whole match had been his idea. The newlyweds left Munich in separate carriages. Caroline Augusta’s elder brother Ludwig (the future King Ludwig I) was sad to see his favourite sister go. He wrote to her, “Everything that concerns you is of the greatest interest to me.”3 Her stepmother wrote, “Charlotte’s husband is freezing cold. I understand that he cannot be in love. But why did he marry her if he doesn’t even want to approach her? It is literally true. He hasn’t even shaken her hand, let alone a hug. It was completely unnecessary that I sweated blood and tears on Wednesday because Andlau absolutely did not want to tell her what was necessary and forced me to teach her. It was impossible to speak clearly because Andlau was there. We scared her so much with our explanations that she is delighted that the prince has not yet slept with her. . . Since she has no affection for the prince, she will want nothing other than attention for a long time. I advised her to be gentle and kind to him. It will be necessary for him to change his behaviour. I highly recommended it to him when I said goodbye. . . ”4

It was soon apparent that the marriage was not a success. Ludwig, who was visiting his sister, wrote home, “The Crown Prince is very civil to Charlotte.”5 Not exactly what you might hope for from your husband. Caroline Augusta was now trapped in an unhappy marriage. Nevertheless, she made an effort to charm the court and the people. She was housed as far as possible from her husband, and the marriage remained unconsummated. Luckily she also had some support from her lady-in-waiting Countess Sophie Podron and her former tutor, Camilla. She also tried to return home as often as she could.

In 1810, when Ludwig married Therese of Saxe-Hildburghausen, Caroline Augusta wrote to him, “A heart that surrenders itself requires a loving heart in exchange, and nothing else can satisfy it. What are greatness and splendour? They can intoxicate us for the moment, but it is the joys of the heart which brings us lasting happiness: those of passion soon leave an empty void. Only those who know me as you do can understand how I long to see you happy through Therese and Therese happy through you…”6

With the fall of Napoleon in 1814, William saw no reason to remain married to Caroline Augusta any longer and began divorce proceedings. By then, Caroline Augusta had already left Stuttgart and was staying at Schloss Neuburg on the Danube. William had the marriage dissolved by the Protestant Consistory Court in Stuttgart on 31 August 1814, and Caroline Augusta later applied to the Pope for an annulment of the marriage. The annulment was finally granted on 12 January 1816.

After the annulment, Caroline Augusta lived in Würzburg, and Ludwig was trying to help to make a fresh start in life. She was generously compensated by the Württemberg court with a yearly stipend that would last until her remarriage. The humiliation of the divorce loomed over her but would soon be over. On 13 September 1816, the thrice widowed Emperor Francis I of Austria asked for her hand in marriage. Although the prospect of becoming an Empress was honourable indeed, one cannot help but wonder how she felt about marrying a man twice her age. Initially, she had not been informed of the proposal, and Francis’s brother, the Grand Duke of Tuscany, also asked for her hand in marriage.

Part two coming soon. 

The post Caroline Augusta of Bavaria – A victim of politics (Part one) appeared first on History of Royal Women.

Maria Ludovika of Austria-Este – A soul of fire

Maria Ludovika of Austria-Este was born on 14 December 1787 as the daughter of Archduke Ferdinand of Austria-Este, a son of Maria Theresa of Austria, and Maria Beatrice Ricciarda d’Este. She was born in Monza in the duchy of Milan. She was baptised with the names Maria Ludovika but was more commonly known as just Ludovika. She was the youngest of ten siblings, though not all would survive to adulthood.

Ludovika’s education was in the hands of Countess Almesloë, who had been sent by her formidable grandmother Maria Theresa. She also instructed her to teach the children German as their mother tongue, but their education would always be more Italian than German. Most of the tutors assigned to Ludovika and her sisters were Italian. They received lessons in religion and science. In 1796, the family had to flee to Austria after Napoleon invaded Milan. They briefly stayed in Trieste before moving on to Wiener Neustadt with the permission of Ludovika’s uncle Emperor Leopold. Not much has survived about Ludovika from those years in Neustadt. Her mother thought she was not gentle, not patient enough and not submissive enough.

As Ludovika grew up, she took on lessons in drawing, painting and needlework. By 1803, the family moved to Vienna, and her mother wrote to her that her new room would not be big, but it would be bright and have a nice view. On 24 December 1806, Ludovika’s father died at the age of 52. But it was another death that would change Ludovika’s fate. On 13 April 1807, the second wife of Emperor Francis1, Maria Theresa of Naples and Sicily, died shortly after childbirth. She left behind eight children, “a good number of whom still need a mother.”2

Ludovika and Francis’s eldest daughter Marie Louise, later Empress of the French, were only four years apart in age, and the Emperor enjoyed spending time with the extended family. Francis soon proposed marriage to his young cousin, which she accepted “with the deepest emotion.”3 They were married on 6 January 1806 in the Augustine Church in Vienna. The ceremony was performed by the Bishop of Waitzen, Ludovika’s elder brother Karl Ambrosius. Marie Louise wrote that she had lost a dear cousin but had gained a dear mamma.4 The late Empress’s family was less than thrilled that Francis had remarried so quickly and were even more grieved to find that her children “loved their young stepmother”, whom they found “intelligent” and “agreeable and cultivated.”5

The family settled in well, though Francis sometimes felt that Ludovika was a bit too intelligent for him, and the threat of war hung over them. In addition, from 1808, the new Empress seemed to be continually unwell with tuberculosis. In May 1809, Ludovika was forced to flee Vienna with her stepchildren as Napoleon’s army headed towards them. As the family fled, Marie Louise wrote of the tiny bed her “mama” slept in with 12-year-old Leopoldina, which subsequently collapsed during the night. Nevertheless, they still attended mass at 6 in the morning. The following day, the road was so muddy that the rocking carriages made Ludovika “so sick she could hardly keep going.”6 Being continually on the run caused significant health problems for Ludovika. Ludovika’s own parents had once been driven out of their country by Napoleon, so she had even more reasons to despise him.

In 1809 as Austria was finally forced to ally with France, one observer noted Ludovika’s intelligence. He wrote that she and Stadion7 “are the only people at the summit of the state who possess a clear will and a soul of fire. She is in despair because she is unable to bring her wavering husband and Archduke Karl, all these half-hearted creatures around who yet hold the destiny of the Empire in their hands, to share her conviction… it grieves her to observe that her husband is not the Emperor but only so in name.”8 Ludovika later wrote to Archduke John9, “Ah, would I were a man, to serve the state… I confess it pains me to observe the way he tarries behind the army like any baggage porter.”10 When Marie Louise was married off to Napoleon in 1810, both Marie Louise and Ludovika were in tears.

Ludovika’s ill-health soon became a nuisance for her husband, and she also never conceived children with him. She was also being closely watched by von Metternich, the Austrian Empire’s foreign minister. Her letters, which were perhaps little indiscrete, were being monitored. In her letters to her stepson Ferdinand, for whom she had a great affection, she often criticised the Austrian court. A selective read of her letters to her brother-in-law Archduke Joseph hinted at an affair, which never happened but fueled a fire anyway. Von Metternich informed Francis, who had all the correspondence investigated. If there was any trust left in their marriage, it was now gone. Meanwhile, the sickly Empress was in Teplitz to take the baths where she met Goethe, who read to her several times, and she wrote, “To listen to him read delights my heart.”11

The downfall of Napoleon soon came, and during the following Congress of Vienna, Ludovika was the mind behind all the entertainment. However, her illness greatly overshadowed the festivities. She repeatedly fainted in the middle of state duties and had to be carried off to her rooms, but by sheer endurance, she continued to recover and reappear at the festivities. This lasted for about six months, but a state tour of Italy lay ahead. Despite protests in the family that Ludovika would not be able to take it, the tour went ahead. Ludovika herself saw it as her duty.

Earlier she had written to her husband, “You have given me great joy by your assurance that I have brought much happiness into your life… Had I but better health, or were the evil but confined to such complaints as I could have suffered without becoming useless to you, how gladly would I have born my fate and had then been of good cheer.”12 Soon Ludovika was so ill that she could barely stand up. She asked the doctors, “Then I must really die?”13 Ludovika died in Verona on 7 April 1816 – still only 28 years old.

She was reportedly not greatly missed in Vienna, except by her friends. One of them said of her, “She had not only an unlimited need to love but also the unlimited strength to do so.”14 Her husband remarried for the fourth time just six months later.

The post Maria Ludovika of Austria-Este – A soul of fire appeared first on History of Royal Women.

Rabia Gulnus Emetullah Valide Sultan – An overlooked Ottoman Queen

Rabia Gulnus Emetullah Valide Sultan has often been overlooked by historians of the Ottoman empire. While she was one of the most powerful Queens, she is not included in the “Sultanate of Women.” [1] Yet Gulnus Sultan was Mehmed IV’s favourite for 23 years. She was also the Valide Sultan for 20 years during her sons’ reigns. Throughout her reign as Valide Sultan, she was the patron of many building projects. Modern-day historians believe that Gulnus Sultan deserves her place among “Ottoman’s Greatest Queens.” [2]

Rabia Gulnus Emetullah Valide Sultan was born around Rethymno, Crete island, sometime around 1642.[3]  Ozgules claimed that her first name was Evmenia.[4] However, Argit claimed that her name was Eugenie.[5] She was from the powerful Verzizzi family, and her father was the Bishop of Rethymno.[6] As a young child, she was captured by the Ottomans and became a concubine in the imperial harem. When she was old enough, she caught the eye of Mehmed IV. Gulnus Sultan was described to be very beautiful.[7] She was said to be short with reddish-brown hair and blue eyes.[8]

In 1664 C.E, Gulnus Sultan gave birth to Prince Mustafa. Gulnus Sultan then bore the title of “Haseki” to Mehmed IV.[9] Haseki meant “Chief Consort of the Sultan.” [10] Because she gave birth to Prince Mustafa, Mehmed IV loved Gulnus Sultan.[11] Mehmed IV gave Gulnus Sultan fiefs as a gift for giving birth to Prince Mustafa. Gulnus Sultan was the only woman to accompany her husband on military campaigns.[12] Because Gulnus Sultan travelled throughout the empire and in Europe, she captured the imagination of European artists who always painted her on horseback.[13] 

Gulnus Sultan was also inspired by Hatice Turhan Sultan’s (her mother-in-law) building projects, and she wanted to conduct her own building projects.[14] After one of his successful campaigns, Mehmed IV gifted her a Catholic Church, which Gulnus Sultan converted into a mosque. This made Gulnus Sultan the only Haseki to convert a church into a mosque as a spoils of war.[15] She was also the second Haseki after Gulnus Sultan to have set up charities in Mecca, which included a health clinic and two hospitals.[16]

While she accompanied her husband for the second time on a military expedition, Gulnus Sultan gave birth to her second son named Ahmed on 31 December 1673. This was the first time an Ottoman Queen had given birth to a son away from the capital and during a military expedition.[17] It was said that Gulnus Sultan was a very jealous woman.[18]  She spent her time murdering Medmeh IV’s consorts and insisted that Mehmed IV kill his own brothers, Suleyman and Ahmed.[19] It was Hatice Turhan Sultan who put a stop to Mehmed IV murdering his own brothers.[20] Gulnus Sultan was also inspired by the Kadizadeli Movement, a conservative Muslim movement, and she became hostile to non-Muslims.[21] She became close to one participant of the movement named Feyzullah Efendi.[22] He became her son Mustafa’s tutor.[23] When Mehmed IV was so angry at Feyzullah Efendi that he wanted to execute him, Gulnus Sultan intervened and stopped him.[24]

Mehmed IV and Gulnus Sultan had a difficult reign. The Ottoman Empire was losing territories from Morea to central Europe.[25] There were financial crises, revolts, and famine.[26] Mehmed IV lost favour with his courtiers, who heavily criticized his pleasures of hunting.[27] They dethroned Mehmed IV in favour of his brother, Suleyman II, on 8 November 1687.[28] Gulnus Sultan was sent to the Old Palace, where she lived in solitude for eight years, and she focused solely on managing the harem.[29] Even though she was powerless in court, the Grand Viziers whom she installed when she was Haseki were still powerful and helped rule the court.[30]

On 7 February 1695, Gulnus Sultan’s son, Mustafa II, became Sultan of the Ottoman Empire. Gulnus Sultan became Valide Sultan, which means “Queen Mother.” [31] Mustafa II decided to move his capital from Istanbul to Edirne.[32] Gulnus Sultan also accompanied her son on military campaigns and helped him gain support within the Ottoman Empire. She was Mustafa II’s main advisor.[33] Gulnus Sultan conducted many building projects. One of her most notable building projects was the Galata New Mosque.[34] This mosque was built on former Catholic land.[35]

Mustafa II signed the Treaty of Karlowitz on 26 January 1699. This treaty brought an end to the war with Austria and the Ottoman Empire.[36] This treaty helped fill the coffers of the Ottoman treasury, and Mustafa II and Gulnus Sultan returned to Istanbul.[37] Gulnus Sultan was heavily involved in politics. She often advised Grand Viziers.[38] However, there were increasing revolts among the Janissaries within the empire.[39] They strongly disliked Feyzullah Efendi’s influence on Mustafa II.[40] Gulnus Sultan pleaded with her son to abandon his former tutor, but it was already too late.[41] Before Mustafa II could remove Feyzullah Efendi as his official, there were rebellions that he could not put down.[42] The rebels sent a petition to Gulnus Sultan to dethrone Mustafa II in favour of her second son, Ahmed.[43]  On 22 August 1703, Gulnus Sultan was forced to dethrone her son and put his brother, Ahmed III, on the throne.[44] Mustafa II was confined in the palace, where he died on 29 December 1703 from natural causes.

Ahmed III and Gulnus Sultan moved the capital back to Istanbul.[45] They spent their time trying to gain public favour through events like archery competitions.[46] Gulnus Sultan was involved in politics by assigning and deposing grand viziers.[47] She even made her favourite servant, Uzun Suleyman Aga, the Chief Eunuch of the Imperial Harem.[48] Gulnus Sultan spent her free time focusing on her building projects like building fountains in the Galata New Mosque.[49] She even built her tomb, known as the Uskudar Yeni Valide Complex. Gulnus Sultan also persuaded Ahmed III to go to war for King Charles XII of Sweden’s cause. When King Charles XII of Sweden lost the Battle of Poltava against the Russians, he fled to the Ottoman Empire. King Charles XII vowed revenge against the Russians, and Gulnus Sultan advised her son to help him. They went to war, but the Ottoman General named Baltaci signed a peace treaty against Russia. This peace treaty angered both Ahmed III and King Charles XII of Sweden so that Baltaci was stripped of his position.

On 30 November 1712, the Ottomans again declared war on Russia. However, they signed the Treaty of Edirne on 14 June 1713. This treaty allowed the Ottomans to declare war against the Venetians to regain their lost territory of Morea.[50] Ahmed III and Gulnus Sultan were eager to regain Morea. Gulnus Sultan fell ill, but she wanted to be informed of every detail about the war.[51] In September 1715, the Ottomans regained Morea. The Ottoman army marched victoriously in Edirne on 4 November 1715. On 5 November 1715, Gulnus Sultan passed away in Edirne Palace.[52] On 8 November 1715, Gulnus Sultan was buried in Uskudar Yeni Valide Complex.[53] Thus, Gulnus Sultan came from humble beginnings, and she rose to become Valide Sultan to two sultans. Yet, her greatest legacy is her building projects, especially the Galata New Mosque and Uskudar Yeni Valide Complex. Through these projects, Gulnus Sultan’s name will never be forgotten.

Sources:

Argit, B.T. (2017). “A Queen Mother and the Ottoman Imperial Harem: Rabia Gulnus Emetullah Valide Sultan (1640-1715).” Concubines and Courtesans: Women and Slavery in Islamic History: Illustrated Edition. (Gordon, M.S. Ed.; Hain, K. A. Ed.). London: Oxford University Press. pp. 207-224.

Ozgules, M. (2017). The Women Who Built The Ottoman World: Female Patronage and the Architectural Legacy of Gulnus Sultan (Library of Ottoman Studies). NY: I.B. Taurus. 

Sardar, Z. (2014). Mecca: The Sacred City. NY: Bloomsbury USA.

[1] Ozgules, p. 11

[2] Ozgules, p. 11

[3] Argit, p. 208

[4] Ozgules, p. 17

[5] Argit, p. 208

[6] Ozgules, p. 17

[7] Ozgules, p. 23

[8] Ozgules, p. 23

[9] Ozgules, p. 18

[10] Ozgules, p. 18

[11] Ozgules,  p. 19

[12] Ozgules, p. 19

[13] Ozgules, p. 19

[14] Ozgules, p. 19

[15] Ozgules, p. 22

[16] Sardar, p. 183; Ozgules, p. 4

[17] Ozgules, p. 23

[18] Ozgules, p. 23

[19] Ozgules, p. 23

[20] Ozgules, p. 23

[21] Ozgules, p. 24

[22] Ozgules, p. 24

[23] Argit, p. 209

[24] Argit, p. 209

[25] Ozgules, p. 25

[26] Ozgules, p. 25

[27] Ozgules, p. 25

[28] Argit, p. 210

[29] Argit, p. 210

[30] Argit, p. 209

[31] Ozgules, p. 26

[32] Ozgules, p. 26

[33] Ozgules, p. 28

[34] Ozgules, p. 28

[35] Ozgules, p. 29

[36] Ozgules, p. 29

[37] Ozgules, p. 29

[38] Ozgules, p. 29

[39] Ozgules, p. 29

[40] Argit, p. 212

[41] Argit, p. 212

[42] Argit, p. 212

[43] Ozgules, p. 30

[44] Ozgules, p. 30

[45] Ozgules, pp. 30-31

[46] Ozgules, p. 31

[47] Ozgules, p. 31

[48] Ozgules, p. 32

[49] Ozgules, p. 33

[50] Ozgules, p. 34

[51] Ozgules, p. 35

[52] Ozgules, p. 35

[53] Ozgules, p. 35

The post Rabia Gulnus Emetullah Valide Sultan – An overlooked Ottoman Queen appeared first on History of Royal Women.

The Year of Empress Elisabeth – Sisi & Countess Marie Larisch von Moennich (Part three)

Read part two here.

On the evening of 27 January, Marie found Mary, her mother Helene and her sister Hanna at home. Mary was drinking tea laced with rum and sat smoking as her mother admonished her. Mary and Marie retreated to Mary’s bedroom, where Mary asked her if she looked nice. Marie later wrote, “Her eyes looked positively evil.”1 Mary would snub Crown Princess Stéphanie later that evening at a soiree at the German Embassy with a “violent scene” being reported in the press. Even the Emperor had been present, and his apparent slight towards Mary had incensed Rudolf. He later said, “The Emperor has openly affronted and degraded me. From now all ties between us are broken. From now I am free.”2 That night, Rudolf spiralled even further in the presence of his mistress Mitzi Caspar.

The following morning, Marie collected Mary and told her mother that they planned to go shopping. They shopped for lingerie before going to Rudolf’s apartments at the Hofburg. As they waited for Rudolf, Mary reportedly told Marie, “I want you to forgive me from the bottom of your heart for all the trouble I have caused you. Whatever happens, don’t think I wished to deceive you or play you false.”3 Rudolf and Mary then left together before Rudolf reappeared alone. He told Marie to return to Helene and report to her that Mary had disappeared while they were shopping. Marie objected to this, but Rudolf became violent and waved a gun in her face. He then gave her money to bribe the driver to back up her story.

Marie did as she was told, and Helene was immediately was convinced that Mary would do something rash. A letter was then found in which Mary had written, “I cannot go on living. Today I have gained a lead on you; by the time you catch up with me, I shall be beyond saving, in the Danube, Mary.”4 Marie perhaps hoped that she could conceal her own role in the tragedy and volunteered to go the police chief. However, he refused to intervene in Rudolf’s private affairs, and a second interview went no better. The police chief later wrote, “She [Marie] came not to make a statement, but because she wanted to exculpate herself.”5 Desperate, Marie wrote the police chief two letters, explaining how she had only been reluctantly involved.

The end came in the early hours of 30 January. Crown Prince Rudolf had first shot and killed Mary before turning the gun on himself. The court immediately went into damage control mode, and many letters, including to and from Marie, were taken. Despite the precautions, the rumour that Rudolf had killed himself and Mary was soon circulating, and Marie could do nothing but worry. On 5 February, a group of officials came to question her at her hotel suite. She tried to deny everything, but her letters had already been located. When Marie later went to see her aunt Empress Elisabeth, she was turned away, and Elisabeth never spoke to Marie again. Marie was forbidden from ever appearing at court again. Marie later wrote that Elisabeth “made use of me, and she threw me aside without a regret.”6

Now a social pariah, Marie also abandoned her lover and transferred her affections to Karl-Ernst von Otto-Kreckwitz and gave birth to his son Friedrich Karl in 1894. Without her connections to the Imperial court, her husband soon saw no use for Marie, and they divorced in 1896. Just one year later, Marie left Karl-Ernst and married a musician named Otto Brucks. He became an alcoholic. With her money running out, Marie decided to cash in by writing about her Imperial relatives. Emperor Franz Joseph gave her a substantial amount of money for a manuscript she had written in 1897. In 1909, her son Heinrich Georg learned of his mother’s involvement in the Mayerling tragedy and the questions about his paternity, and he killed himself. In 1913, Marie finally published My Past with the help of British writer Maude Ffoulkes. Marie was widowed in 1914, and she worked as a nurse during the First World War. In 1921, Marie starred as herself in a movie about Empress Elisabeth, but the film is now lost.

By the time the film was released, Marie had left Europe for the United States. In 1924, she married for a third time to an American doctor. The marriage was miserable, and she worked as a maid in New Jersey before eventually returning to Germany. She died there on 4 July 1940 at the age of 82 – impoverished. She was buried in the Ostfriedhof in Munich, beside her father and her son Friedrich Karl.

The post The Year of Empress Elisabeth – Sisi & Countess Marie Larisch von Moennich (Part three) appeared first on History of Royal Women.

The Year of Empress Elisabeth – Sisi & Countess Marie Larisch von Moennich (Part two)

Read part one here.

It all began in the spring of 1888. Marie would collect the 17-year-old Mary from her mother’s residence every few days, ostentatiously to take her shopping or to the Prater, but they always ended up with Rudolf. It was hardly a secret, and even Rudolf’s wife Stéphanie knew of it after she had followed her husband to the Prater one night. She angrily declared that Mary “ought to be packed off to school or somewhere where she’d be taught to respect the holy commandments!”1

By the autumn, the affair was spiralling out of control with Mary so profoundly infatuated with Rudolf that she visited him in just a nightgown with a fur coat over it. Marie was beginning to lose control over the situation. Mary told Marie, “That stupid Crown Princess knows that I am her rival!”2 She also delighted in mocking Stéphanie, and she began to believe that Rudolf would have his marriage annulled and that he would marry her instead. Never mind the fact that he still regularly saw other women as well. He told Marie that Mary was “just a woman who loves me. I’ve known many far more beautiful, but I have never met with one more faithful.”3

On 5 November 1888, Marie collected Mary to go shopping and to have their pictures taken, “for him, of course.”4 Afterwards, they were spirited into Rudolf’s apartments in the Hofburg. Mary later wrote, “If we could live together in a hut, we would be happy. We always talk about how happy it would make us. But unfortunately, it is not to be. If I could give my life for him, I would gladly do so, for what does my life mean to me? We have made a pact toward this possibility.”5 Rudolf gave her a simple iron ring with the inscription ILVBIDT (translated as United by love until death).

As the relationship continued, Mary and Rudolf became less discrete. Even Marie found it distasteful and told her, “I think you display very questionable taste in flaunting yourself.”6 On 21 December 1888, the two lovers met for the last time that year at the Hofburg. Soon, the affair would turn tragic indeed.

Rudolf’s fascination with death had been brewing for quite a while by then. He suffered from the painful symptoms of gonorrhoea, which he attempted to lessen with alcohol and drugs. He told Marie, “Altogether, I’m in a bad way. I’m tired of life.”7 He began to erratically speak of suicide to anyone who would listen, but he wasn’t taken seriously. Then he began asking members of his staff to join him in a suicide pact, and many of his staff asked to be reassigned. He even threatened Stéphanie, telling her he was going to shoot her and then himself. He then went to his other mistress, Mitzi Caspar, who didn’t think it was very funny at all and reported his request to the police. Nothing was done.

On 13 January 1889, Mary and Rudolf were reunited at the Hofburg. Mary returned home in despair and told her maid, “Oh, it would have been so much better had I not gone to see him today! Now I no longer belong to myself alone but exist only for him. From now on, I must do everything he asks.”8 She later wrote, “We both lost our heads. Now we belong to one another body and soul.”9 They met again on 19 January and 24 January. By then, her mother had been panicking at home over the affair. She would later claim not to have known about it until then. The two argued, and Mary fled to the Grand Hotel where Marie was staying. She cried, “Oh, Marie darling, do get me away from Vienna! I shall die if I have to remain at home!”10 Marie managed to calm Mary down and returned her home, where Mary promptly fainted and had to be put to bed.

At the end of January, Rudolf planned to go to the hunting lodge of Mayerling, and he informed Stéphanie that her “presence was not wanted.”11 Two days before he was set to go to Mayerling, Rudolf showed up at Marie’s suite at the Grand Hotel. He told her, “I want you to bring Mary tomorrow to the Hofburg. You must persuade the Baroness to allow Mary to go out with you.”12 Marie later wrote to him, “You know that I am blindly devoted to you and that I will always obey your command whenever you call me. I shall naturally come along under these threatening circumstances, I cannot expose her to unpleasantness on her own – I shall therefore certainly come, no matter what happens.”13

Part three coming soon.

The post The Year of Empress Elisabeth – Sisi & Countess Marie Larisch von Moennich (Part two) appeared first on History of Royal Women.

The Year of Empress Elisabeth – Sisi & Countess Marie Larisch von Moennich (Part one)

Countess Marie Larisch von Moennich was born on 24 February 1858 as Marie Louise Elizabeth Mendel as the illegitimate daughter of Ludwig Wilhelm, Duke in Bavaria (the eldest brother of Empress Elisabeth) and the actress Henriette Mendel.

When Henriette fell pregnant for the second time, she and Ludwig Wilhelm contracted a morganatic marriage. They were married on 28 May 1859, shortly after Ludwig Wilhelm officially renounced any succession rights. Henriette was created Baroness von Wallersee by the King of Bavaria shortly before the wedding, making Marie a Baroness von Wallersee as well. Their second child – a son – lived for just a few months. Elisabeth was one of the few people who supported her brother’s decision, and she soon invited the newlyweds to Schönbrunn. Marie was educated at home and, by her own admission, “hated all of my many excellent and long-suffering governesses.”1

Marie vividly remembered her first meeting with her aunt Elisabeth, whom she described as a “fairy queen.” She wrote in her memoirs, “I gazed at her spellbound, for with some curious intuition I already felt her influence over me, and I thought that here was a fairy Queen who had come straight from the realms of Romance, having temporarily discarded her gauzy wings and shimmering robes for a green and black plaid burnous, grey had, and a long-trained back dress.”2 She had brought along Archduchess Marie Valerie to play with Marie. Some years would pass before Marie met her aunt again. However, Elisabeth would later befriend the young Marie, and at the age of 16, Elisabeth took her under her wing and invited her to court.

By then, Marie had grown into a pretty young girl with musical talents. She sang and played the piano and was an accomplished horsewoman. However, not everyone was amused to see the daughter of an actress invited to court. Countess Festetics, a lady-in-waiting, wrote, “I find Marie Wallersee pretty. And I wish I liked her. I do like her in many ways, but there is something which holds me back. I can hardly bring myself to write it for fear of being unfair, but I have a feeling, and I don’t mean it unkindly, that she is not sincere – not herself, as if she were acting the whole time.”3 Young Marie had been all too willing to flirt with her young cousin Rudolf.

Perhaps to put an end to Marie’s ambitions, Elisabeth arranged her marriage to Count Georg Larisch von Moennich. In her memoirs, Marie described him at their first meeting as “a shy little lieutenant, whose somewhat plain countenance was disfigured by spots.”4 Even when Georg’s uncle told her that he was “queer, his temper uncertain and he is obstinate”, Marie stubbornly told him that her aunt wished the marriage. And so, Georg duly proposed that very same day. However, she wrote that as he kissed her, “I felt like a dead creature.”5

They were married at Gödöllő on 20 October 1877, and her aunt had taken care of all the arrangements. The Emperor had sent her magnificent lace for her wedding gown, while Elisabeth had given her a pearl necklace. From her cousin the Crown Prince she received a black pearl brooch, which she had always dreaded wearing, and he teased her for being superstitious. When Marie left for her honeymoon, Elisabeth held her close and cried. The honeymoon was spent in Paris, and from there, they went to London, where they were to meet with Elisabeth. Unfortunately, the marriage was soon off to a bad start, and the couple was horribly mismatched. Marie wrote sadly, “A wave of bitter anger swept over me. I had been sacrificed on the altar of a loveless union all to no purpose, and I felt like a prisoner for whom there is no escape.”6 Georg intended to keep Marie and Elisabeth separate, and they went to live mainly at Castle Pardubitz where Marie gave birth to her first two children: Franz-Joseph in 1878 and Marie Valerie in 1879.

When they returned to Vienna for the season, they initially rented a flat, but after a few years, they gave up the flat and stayed in hotels whenever they were in Vienna. Marie went into the Viennese society as much as possible and tried to see her aunt as much as her husband would allow. In 1881, Crown Prince Rudolf married Princess Stéphanie of Belgium, whom Marie only encountered briefly at first. Rudolf and Stéphanie’s only child – Elisabeth – was born in 1883.

Marie is perhaps best remembered in history for the role she played in the tragedy at Mayerling. Marie, close as she was to the Imperial Family, knew where the skeletons were buried, and after gambling away her husband’s small fortune, she used this as leverage. Eager to keep his cousin quiet, Rudolf often paid off her debts. Nevertheless, in this sordid arrangement, Marie also found herself introducing her cousin to new lovers. Marie knew Baroness Helene Vetsera and her family well – she had even embarked on an affair with Helene’s brother Heinrich as his regiment was conveniently stationed near the Larisch estate. Two of her children: Marie Henriette (born 1884) and Heinrich Georg (born 1886) were likely fathered by him rather than her husband. Helene had once been Rudolf’s lover, now it seemed that her daughter was to take her place, and Marie was to facilitate this. It was only after the tragedy had happened that Marie claimed that Mary had sought out Rudolf on her own and that the relationship had surprised her.

Part two coming soon.

The post The Year of Empress Elisabeth – Sisi & Countess Marie Larisch von Moennich (Part one) appeared first on History of Royal Women.

The Year of Empress Elisabeth – Sisi & Sophie Charlotte (Part two)

Read part one here.

By then, Sophie Charlotte was pregnant again, and Prince Emmanuel was born on 18 January 1872. Sophie and Elisabeth were incredibly close during the months of her pregnancy, and they often took long walks together. Emmanuel was born in Merano, where Sophie Charlotte was again staying for health reasons. Elisabeth was asked to be a sponsor for the young Prince. Sophie Charlotte remained in Merano until May before finally travelling to France. Sophie Charlotte became restless – it seemed to run in the family – and met with her sisters as often as she could. She spent little time with her children, who were being raised by governesses. When Louise became older, she sometimes joined her mother in her travels.

In 1886, shortly after the death of King Ludwig II, Sophie Charlotte travelled home, where she fell seriously ill with scarlet fever. Her life was feared for, and her husband and children were not allowed to have any contact with her for fear of infection. She survived but took a long time to recover. She went to Munich for further treatment, where she reportedly fell in love with her physician Dr Glaser. She announced to her family that she wanted a divorce, and they were shocked and tried to have her declared insane. When her husband was brought to her, she looked at him and asked him if she was ill and if he wanted her to leave. He responded that if she wanted to be his faithful wife, she should stay. She declared that she wanted a divorce still. She was admitted to a sanatorium and would only be allowed to leave if she gave up her plans for a divorce.

She did not speak to her mother for several months. In early 1888, her treatment was considered successful, and she returned to her husband. Her mother’s following 80th birthday party was an awkward one for the family, though Sophie Charlotte and Ludovika did embrace. Elisabeth’s response to this situation is one of condemnation though perhaps she was jealous of Sophie Charlotte, who had tried to do what Elisabeth had been longing to do – escaping. Sophie Charlotte and her husband were in Vienna when the events of the Mayerling incident played out. Marie Valerie described them as “so dear and compassionate.” 1

In 1892, Sophie Charlotte was present at her mother’s deathbed. She barely recognised Sophie Charlotte but sighed “Oh my good Sophie” when she was told who she was and put her hands on her daughter’s head. Sophie Charlotte stayed by her mother’s bedside and was with her when she passed away around 4 in the morning of 25 January.

When Sophie Charlotte wrote her last will and testament in October 1896, she had no idea how soon it would come into force. Like every year, the Third Order of Saint Dominic organised a charity bazaar in Paris from the 3rd to the 6th of May. Sophie Charlotte was one of their most prominent patrons. In the afternoon of 4 May, Sophie Charlotte visited the bazaar with her husband when the projectionist’s equipment, which was using a system of ether and oxygen rather than electricity, caught fire. During the resulting fire, Sophie Charlotte rushed to help, even as her husband tried to hold her back. She led several people to safety and insisted on being the last to leave. “Leave quickly. Do not mind me. I leave the last.” Reportedly her last words were, “Yes, but in a few minutes, think that we will be in heaven!” Her body was burned beyond recognition and was identified by her teeth. Her husband sustained injuries from a falling beam.

Her last moments were described, “She died as nobly as she lived. She perished, burnt alive in the terrible catastrophe of the Bazar de la Charité in Paris in May 1897. The cinematography was at that time a novel institution, and the operator, with inconceivable clumsiness, set fire to a room above the one in which the bazaar was held. The ceiling was all in flames before any attempt was made to clear the hall. There was a horrible struggle in which the strongest had the advantage. However, among the men whose brutal selfishness seems to have stifled all chivalrous feeling, there were a few who thought of the Duchess. They hastened to her help, imploring her to escape, even trying to drag her away by force; but she refused. “I shall stay to the last,” she replied. “Save the others first.” Some Sisters of the Order of S. Vincent de Paul would not leave her, determined to sacrifice their lives also, if need be. The Duchess remained standing; the Sisters knelt around her, praying. As the fire drew close to her, she loosened her magnificent hair, which covered her like a cloak. And it was so that those who survived the disaster saw her for the last time.” 2

Elisabeth was with Marie Valerie in Lainz when news of the disaster arrived, and Elisabeth was immediately convinced that Sophie Charlotte had perished. Elisabeth’s lady-in-waiting wrote, “Her wounds were terrible, and she did not want her pain to have any witnesses than her husband and daughter.”3

On 8 May 1897, a memorial service was held for all the victims of the fire, and Elisabeth sent a wreath of white lilies and white roses as a last greeting to her sister. The funeral mass was held on 14 May at the Church of Saint-Philippe du Roule, and she was buried in the Royal Chapel at Dreux.

The post The Year of Empress Elisabeth – Sisi & Sophie Charlotte (Part two) appeared first on History of Royal Women.

The Year of Empress Elisabeth – Sisi & Sophie Charlotte (Part one)

Sophie Charlotte in Bavaria was born on 22 February 1847 at 5.20 in the morning as the daughter of Duke Maximilian Joseph in Bavaria and Princess Ludovika of Bavaria. She would be one of eight (surviving) siblings, and her sisters included Empress Elisabeth of Austria, Helene, Marie Sophie and Mathilde Ludovika. She was their penultimate child.

In November 1851, Amalie Tänzl von Tratzberg was appointed as governess for the three youngest girls – Marie Sophie, Mathilde Ludovika and Sophie Charlotte. When her elder sister Elisabeth married their first cousin Emperor Franz Joseph I of Austria in 1854, a painting was made with all the siblings. Sophie Charlotte was portrayed with her favourite doll.

(public domain)

Sophie Charlotte’s sister Elisabeth married their first cousin Emperor Franz Joseph I of Austria in April 1854, when Sophie Charlotte was still only seven years old. She remained behind in Munich as her sister embarked on her new life as Empress. Plans for marriage for Sophie Charlotte were soon in the works as well. By 1861, she was the youngest unmarried daughter. During this time, she was mostly a companion to her mother, who also dictated letters to her when her headaches became so severe that she could not write. Her greatest passion was music. She played the piano, and she had a soprano voice. She received voice training from Julius Hey. She had fallen in love with her teacher, who was not only 15 years older but also a commoner and he was already engaged. She desperately wrote in her journal, “My heart is bleeding with love and longing. I feel abandoned, can I find peace?” Several prospective bridegrooms were considered for Sophie Charlotte, including royals from Portugal and Spain. In April 1866, her first cousin and the younger brother of Emperor Franz Joseph, Archduke Ludwig Viktor of Austria, came up in the plans. Sophie Charlotte was not happy about this and rejected him. Elisabeth was disappointed not to see her younger sister marry him as it would have meant that Sophie Charlotte would live in Vienna. Another offer soon came her way – her cousin King Ludwig II of Bavaria.

In 1865, the family gathered for the wedding of Karl Theodor, the second eldest son of the family, and Princess Sophie of Saxony and the 17-year-old Sophie Charlotte and Elisabeth were reunited. Elisabeth later wrote, “Aunt Sofie is sitting here now, having her hair done and chattering away to Angerer [the hairdresser] in a way that I am completely going crazy.”1 After the wedding, Elisabeth stayed behind for an extra few days to spend time with her family. She later wrote that one of the entertainers was spraying Sophie Charlotte with water until she became angry. Elisabeth and Sophie Charlotte stayed up to talk until 1 a.m.

Sophie Charlotte and Ludwig were friends and were only a year apart in age. They both loved music, and during the summer of 1866, Ludwig made several visits to Possenhofen, but when Ludovika inquired after his intentions, he became annoyed. As long as Ludwig was coming over, no other marriage candidate could. He wrote a letter to Sophie Charlotte wishing her a happy summer but that he did not wish to come over anymore. Early the following year – perhaps shortly after his male favourite was dismissed – Ludwig suddenly proposed marriage to Sophie Charlotte. He wrote to her, “Do you want to become my goddess?” The wedding was set to take place later that same year. At the end of February, an engagement ball was organised, during which Sophie Charlotte wore a dress in the national colours of white and blue. Ludwig tired of the ball in an hour and left Sophie Charlotte alone. When her sister-in-law Sophie died suddenly in early March, the family was shocked by Ludwig’s lack of empathy. He even drew an awkward skull on a letter to Sophie Charlotte. When her brother-in-law Maximilian Anton Lamoral, Hereditary Prince of Thurn and Taxis – Helene’s husband – also passed away that June, Possenhofen was truly in deep mourning.

Sophie Charlotte continued to have – chaperoned – meetings with her fiance, but it’s becoming increasingly clear that he did not want to marry at all. After one of these meetings, Sophie Charlotte threw herself into the arms of Natalie von Sternbach, sobbing, “He does not love me!”2 The first scheduled wedding date was 25 August, but it was postponed to October and then to November. Then finally, on 7 October, he wrote to her, “My brotherly love for you is deeply rooted in my soul, but it is not the love that is required for unification in marriage.” He then asked her for a separation “without resentment and bitterness.” Just then, Sophie Charlotte’s father also wrote a letter asking him to either marry his daughter in November or to release her. Ludwig now had an easy way out and blamed her father for tearing them apart. When Sophie Charlotte learned the news, she fainted. Elisabeth wrote to their mother, “You can imagine how upset I am about the King and the Emperor too. There is no expression for such behaviour.[..] I am just glad Sophie knows she couldn’t have been happy with such a man.”3

After giving her daughter some time to recover from the broken engagement, Ludovika set to matchmaking once more. She made contact with the Duke of Nemours and arranged for his son Ferdinand, Duke of Alençon, to meet with Sophie Charlotte in June 1868. The two immediately hit it off, and their wedding was planned for September at Possenhofen. On 28 September, Sophie Charlotte walked down the aisle in a white silk dress adorned with orange blossoms. When the newlyweds went to Rome, they were able to meet with Elisabeth, who was staying nearby.

Ferdinand’s father was the second son of the exiled King Louis-Philippe I of France, and the year after Sophie Charlotte married Ferdinand, they moved into Bushy House in London, where the family was living in exile. Their first child – a daughter named Louise – was born there in July 1869. After the birth, Sophie Charlotte was very depressed, and she became very thin. The family travelled to a warmer climate to allow Sophie Charlotte to recover. In Merano, Sophie Charlotte met up with Elisabeth, and Marie Sophie and the three sisters undertook several trips together. Unfortunately, while there, Sophie Charlotte’s health deteriorated. She lost her appetite, became depressed and had flu-like symptoms. They delayed having another child to allow Sophie Charlotte’s health to recover. During this time, they briefly lived at Schonbrunn in an apartment that was adjacent to Elisabeth’s private garden. The sisters spent a lot of time together and their two daughters, Louise and Marie Valerie, got along well. In June 1871, the news arrived that the ban against the Orléans family living in France had been lifted, and Ferdinand began to plan for a return to France.

Part two coming soon. 

The post The Year of Empress Elisabeth – Sisi & Sophie Charlotte (Part one) appeared first on History of Royal Women.

Ma of Han – The Confucian Empress

Empress Dowager Ma has been known as one of China’s virtuous empresses. As an empress, she lived a life of frugality. She lived by Confucian principles and won the respect and admiration of two emperors. Empress Dowager Ma has also been known for being an accomplished female writer. Her works have received literary praise over the centuries. Thus, Empress Dowager Ma has been known for her notable achievements.

Empress Dowager Ma was born in Maling (modern-day Xinping, Shanxi) around 39 C.E.[1] Her complete name is unknown. She was the youngest daughter and the fourth child of her family.[2] Ma had to grow up quickly. When she was ten years old, her father, Ma Yuan, died in a military expedition against the Xi (an ethnic group in Wuxi).[3] After his death, her mother suffered depression that quickly resulted in a mental disorder.[4] Thus, the child had to manage her family. She was so efficient in running the household that her siblings were impressed with her organizational skills.[5]

Ma was selected to become a concubine for the Crown Prince, Liu Zhuang, when she was thirteen.[6] She gained the admiration of Empress Yin with her modesty and devotion.[7] Consort Ma was known to be graceful and slender.[8] Yet, her defining feature was her beautiful hair. “She liked to comb up from the hairline into a big knot around which she coiled the rest of her hair three times.”[9] Because of these features, the Crown Prince fell in love with her, and she became his favourite concubine.[10]

In February 57 C.E., Emperor Guangwu died. Liu Zhuang ascended the throne as Emperor Ming. He did not appoint an empress because Consort Ma was still childless.[11] He promoted Ma to Worthy Lady (the rank below Empress) and let her adopt one of his sons.[12] Her adopted son was Liu Da (the future Emperor Zhang). Lady Ma was very joyful now that she had a son. She loved Liu Da and spent most of her time raising him.[13] In 60, C. E., officials demanded Emperor Ming appoint an Empress.[14] He loved Lady Ma for all her virtues and believed she had the qualifications of a model empress.[15] Thus, he installed her as Empress.

Empress Ma became an ideal empress.[16] She lived very frugally.[17] She wore coarse clothes, which shocked Emperor Ming’s concubines.[18] Empress Ma was also an avid reader and would often spend her free time reading the classics.[19] Emperor Ming admired her love of reading. He decided to send her his memorials from the court and asked her opinion on state affairs.[20] One piece of advice was to grant amnesty to many prisoners.[21] Even though Emperor Ming asked her advice on state affairs, chroniclers claim that she never meddled in politics.[22] She even refused the opportunity to promote her brothers.[23] This earned her praise from historians because she ensured that her brothers could never become powerful enough to harm the dynasty.[24]

In 75 C. E., Emperor Ming died. Her adopted son Liu Da ascended the throne as Emperor Zhang. Ma became Empress Dowager. During his reign, Empress Dowager Ma still kept her frugal way of life.[25] She watched her Ma clan to ensure they were also living frugally.[26] If any member of her clan was not living frugally, she would punish her family member by removing his name from the clan register.[27] Any member of her clan that continued to lead a righteous and humble life would be rewarded.[28]

One of Empress Dowager Ma’s free time pursuits was to watch the silkworms in the weaving room.[29] She loved reading and writing. She wrote a chronicle of her late husband’s reign called Annotations on the Daily Life of Emperor Ming.[30] She also wrote The Way of Living According to Xuan Zhang, which taught the sons of Emperor Zhang’s statecraft.[31] Emperor Dowager Ma was in charge of the princes’ education and made sure they were well instructed in Confucian principles.[32] Emperor Zhang even consulted her on political matters.[33] 

In 79 C.E., the empire was very prosperous.[34] Emperor Zhang decided to promote Empress Dowager Ma’s brothers, but she stubbornly urged him not to promote them.[35] Thus, her brothers’ promotion never happened. Shortly after her refusal, Empress Dowager Ma fell ill. On 16 August 79 C.E., she died at the age of forty.[36] She was buried next to her husband in the tomb of Xian Jie.[37] Thus, Empress Dowager Ma was a model example of a Confucian Empress.

Sources:

Ruizhi, S. (2015). Notable Women of China: Shang Dynasty to the Early Twentieth Century. (B. B. Peterson, Ed.; M. Li, Trans..). London: Routledge.

S, K.T. (2015). Biographical Dictionary of Chinese Women: Antiquity Through Sui, 1600 B.C.E. – 618 C.E. (L. X. H. Lee, Ed.; A. D. Stefanowska, Ed.; S. Wiles, Ed.;  W. Che, Trans.). NY: Routledge.

McMahon, K. (2013). Women Shall Not Rule: Imperial Wives and Concubines in China from Han to Liao. NY: Rowman and Littlefield.

[1] Ruizhi, p. 95

[2] Ruizhi, p. 95

[3] Sun, p. 179

[4] Sun, p. 179

[5] Sun, p. 179

[6] McMahon, p. 102

[7] Sun, p. 179

[8] Sun, p. 179

[9] Sun, p. 179

[10] Sun, p. 179

[11] Sun, pp. 179-180

[12] Sun, pp. 179-180

[13] Sun, p. 180

[14] McMahon, p. 102

[15] McMahon, p. 102

[16] McMahon, p. 102

[17] Ruizhi, p. 97

[18] Sun, p. 180

[19] McMahon, p. 102

[20] Sun, p 180

[21] Sun, p. 189

[22] Ruizhi, p. 97

[23] Ruizhi, p. 97

[24] Sun, pp.. 180-180

[25] Sun, p. 181

[26] Sun, pp. 180-181

[27] Sun, pp. 180-181

[28] Sun, pp. 180-181

[29] Sun, p. 181

[30] Sun, p. 189

[31] Ruizhi, p. 97

[32] Ruizhi, p. 97

[33] Ruizhi, p. 97

[34] Sun, p. 181

[35] Sun, p. 181

[36] Ruizhi, p. 98

[37] Ruizhi, p. 98

The post Ma of Han – The Confucian Empress appeared first on History of Royal Women.