Cherchez la femme

Cherchez la femme

Foreword

Cherchez la femme – ‘Search for a Woman’ – the French say. And they know what it means. Cherchez la femme, when intelligent men become stupid and perform unreasonable and foolish deeds. Cherchez la femme, when sudden wars burst out and long wars cease for no apparent reason. Cherchez la femme, when strong dynasties come to an end and great empires get ruined. Cherchez la femme.

***

Once, in the 11th century, there lived … no, not a princess, just a girl.

She wasn’t a simple girl – her family was noble and the most powerful in the Land. Their ancestors were extraordinary warriors, brave and strong, but not lucky. They came here looking for shelter from heathen Saxon swords and pitiless sea. They had decided not to go back to their rocky and rough Homeland, but to sail south. And they conquered this Land and its people, and became rulers. But not Kings.

The girl was absolutely beautiful. She took her exquisite features, her refined manners and her quick wit after her French grandmothers; her indomitable will, her outstanding courage and her cold mind after her Viking grandfathers. Everyone in the Castle adored her. They called her ‘Your Highness’, but she wasn’t a princess. She had known it since she was old enough to understand that, despite being called ‘Your Majesty’ in their Land, her Father wasn’t real King because in the letters from abroad he was addressed ‘Duke Richard of Normandy’.

Her family had everything possible: fruitful land, expensive horses, shining gold, finest silk and softest velvet; power over the people, love and respect of friends and envy of foes … The only thing they didn’t have – Royal blood. And that was her dearest dream – to become REAL Queen. She was clever enough to understand – her only chance is to marry a king.

The King to the North was too absorbed in wars. The King to the East was too far away. The king to the South was too powerful and arrogant – he wouldn’t want a little unimportant wife. So, she looked to the West. She talked her father into inviting guests from England. She planned and rehearsed everything: every detail of the dress, every smile, every glance, every move, every curl of her hair. And the King, despite being married with children, fell heels over feet in love with her.

Marriage. Only official marriage. At the age of 17 she became Queen of England. Her husband was twice older than she. She wasn’t interested what happened to his first wife and his children. She wasn’t very much touched when the Saxons scornfully nicknamed him the Unready. They said King married her only in order to stop her Father’s men to harass the south-eastern shores of England. It was all only words. She became Queen. Her Land was ten times bigger that her Father’s. Her wish had been fulfilled. Her vanity had been satisfied.

Years passed. She had three children – two beloved sons and a lovely daughter. But once, a disaster came into her Land. The Northern King (he was already King of three Lands – Norway, Denmark and Sweden) wanted to annex her Land. His army landed in the North and marched towards London, killing everyone and burning everything. She knew that the English army was as weak and unready as its King. But she wasn’t. When the Invader came very close, she persuaded her husband to visit him in order to make a deal and save their people.

The History repeated itself. She was still very beautiful. She planned and rehearsed everything: every detail of the dress, every smile, every glance, every move, every curl of her hair. But then she saw that the Invader was young and strong and handsome (married, though). He was looking only at her. But his time she decided to let herself fall in love.

They made a deal: she would marry him if he let her sons leave for Normandy and didn’t let her home to get destroyed.

The Invader’s army suddenly stopped not far from London and set a camp. In a while her husband and his eldest son (from his first marriage) unexpectedly died. Her beloved children set sail, save and sound, to Normandy, to be raised and educated in love and care by their uncle. As real Princes. She was 31 when she got married to be happy and start a new life becoming Queen of England, Denmark and Norway.

***

But in this World everyone must pay for their sins. And their children must pay. And their grandchildren. But in the case of a Royal family, the whole country must pay.

The first to pay was the Invader. He died when he was 40. His son became King, aged 22, and sent his Mother to exile, but died in two years from a stroke, "brought about by an excessive intake of alcohol”, as the doctors said. But people said he was poisoned. And all the other sons (from both wives) and the only daughter died within a decade of the Invader’s death. At the same time the Queen’s middle son (Saxon) was captured during his visit to England, tortured and died from his wounds.

Her eldest son returned from Normandy and became King (the last King of the Wessex dynasty). Being half-Norman and half-Saxon, he was brought up Norman and he didn’t speak English. He married (for the second time) a girl from the most important Saxon family and deprived his Mother of her property. She died soon afterword. It turned out later that his wife was childless and he sent her to a nunnery.

Her son, the King, felt the breath of Destiny. He took his grand-nephew, a little orphan boy of six years old and the only Royal blood male relative left, to the Court to bring him up as a Prince. He prayed, he confessed to the God (he was called the Confessor), but everything was in vain. Pandora Box was opened. The Fox was let into the Hen-House. And one of the Greatest Catastrophes was already to come.

The next to pay was the Country, whose Unready King betrayed his people, forgot his duty, let his emotions rule his mind. His heir, a noble and brave King, was killed by the Conqueror. The only Saxon Royal blood, aged only 15, was made to flee to exile. He took part in several rebellions against the Normans, but no one took him seriously. And no one knows when and where he died. He didn’t have any children and his death cut the male line of the original Royal family of England. For 300 years England became Norman. The Saxon Earls became no ones, the Saxon peasants became surfs, the Saxon language - forbidden, the Saxon traditions – extinct.

***

The girl is kept in History as the “first of the early medieval queens”, the central figure within the Encomium Emmae Reginae, the richest and the most important woman in England of that time.