George RR Martin has a habit of taking moments in history, adding dragons, then incest. Sometimes incest was already there (RIP Charles II of Spain, you could have loved closed mouth breathing). With the first and second episode of House of the Dragon out and causing discourse (get hyped for episode 3 y’all), I thought it’d be interesting to discuss the women in history passed over for a crown in various ways. Because many of the women in his stories, like Daenerys Targaryen and Sansa Stark, have direct and obvious historical equivalents. But who were they?
Whether they were meant to be consorts or rulers, these are some of the women passed over.
Empress Matilda
Let’s start this off with the mother of all “shoulda, woulda, coulda” situations, the Empress Matilda. This lady was the daughter of Henry I of England and granddaughter of William the Conqueror. Maud, or Matilda as she is more commonly known, was a beloved Princess sent off around the age of 8 to Henry V, Holy Roman Emperor. He was also the King of Germany and 20 years her senior. Offially the marriage was held when she reached the age of 12, the legal age for girls to marry at the time. A decade later, he had passed, they had been childless, and she returned to her father’s realm, where she became embroiled in the English succession crisis.
To put it simply, her brother had died when the ship he was sailing across the English Channel sank, leaving her father without a male heir. The situation was complicated as Henry I of England actually had a surviving nephew from his elder, surviving brother, along with various nephews from his sisters. A second marriage produced no children, and at around 25 Matilda married the roughly 14-year-old son of her father’s ally (an unhappy marriage) and was sworn in as his heiress. Issues arose, in part because of Matilda and her husband’s unpopularity and support of rebels against her father, and upon his death, the crown passed to one of his sister’s sons, King Stephen.
Then came the Anarchy.
To collapse almost 20 years of civil war into a single paragraph, this was a time when nobody was sure how succession actually worked. In choosing his nephew, King Henry had created a legal precedent for male preference, but because it was his nephew via the female line, it meant women at least passed on their right to rule. Matilda, who sought to rule in her own right, stood in defiance of this, but to end the bloodshed, agreed that her claim passed onto her eldest son, and in 1154 her son inherited the throne from Stephen. English rulers would later use this same legal justification to claim the French throne, to limited success.
Matilda’s life signifies the broad strokes of every woman in A Song of Ice and Fire who wants to take a throne that’s rightfully hers. She’s Daenerys sailing across the sea with an army to overthrow the Baratheon and later Lannister usurpers. Or she’s Rhaenyra, overlooked for a younger Prince despite being sworn in as heir years prior. Maybe she’s Cersei, ruthlessly taking what she believes to be hers regardless of might or morals.
Maria of Calabria
If the Empress Matilda is the female conqueror, Maria of Calabria is the female pawn and schemer. Born the younger sister to Joanna I, Queen of Naples, Maria was born as the spare heiress in a country that always existed on shaky grounds. The Capetian House of Anjou-Naples was a French scion that, with the Pope’s support, took the Kingdom of Naples for their own. By the time of Maria, this house has spread to Hungary, where the lines had been separated by her great-grandfather, Charles Martel. Thus, there was turmoil between Hungary and Naples.
Where Maria comes in is her usefulness as a vessel for inheritance. While her sister was childless, as she would be throughout her reign, Maria was her heiress. Initially betrothed to Louis, King of Hungary in a match that was meant to close that ongoing feud, she was essentially tricked and trapped in a marriage to her cousin, the Duke of Durazzo, a male opponent to her sister Joanna’s rule (Joanna pictured below).
Following his death via an execution by the Hungarians (who he had attempted to ally with!), Maria made plans to remarry to King Louis. Instead, she was kidnapped, raped and married to a Neapolitan nobleman who she later had murdered while she watched. At this point, the marriage to Louis was unobtainable and she was married to her sister’s husband’s brother. She died a few years later, at the age of 37.
When I talk about Maria, I feel like the story being told is about the limitations of a woman with proximity to power. She was very young when her lineage and legal rights were taken advantage of by Durazzo, and from that point on, her life was punctuated by violence and mistreatment. In theory, she had all the potential in the world to be powerful, but she was merely important. Her name made her more vulnerable, not less, and she was essentially a political prisoner from birth to death.
This reminds me of the woman in ASOIAF who are pawns: the Sansas, the Myrcellas, the Alicents, the Margaerys. While many of these women do bad things, they’re never really in the driver’s seat and thus are often victims, regardless of intent or actions. They’re young, they’re beautiful, but they’re also too important for the men in their life to meet on those terms.
These two women cover most of the female characters Martin puts his energy into throughout the books and television shows, but that is not to say he isn’t pulling from other figures in history.
Jeyne Westerling, the woman Robb Stark marries and thus the cause of the Red Wedding, might be understood as quite a few women. She might be Elizabeth Woodville, a foolish lovematch that puts her husband in danger by pulling him away from a political match. Or she might be a Karin Månsdotter type, who cost Eric XIV his crown and caused them both to be imprisoned.
Stark’s mother, the Lady Catelyn Tully, has many parallels as the mother to a pretender. She’s Margaret Beaufort, running behind her son in a desperate attempt to hold the political fort. Or she’s Catherine of Aragon, passed from brother to brother in order to maintain an alliance. Maybe she’s Marie of Guise, savvy enough to rule but who ultimately is limited because of her gender despite her political importance.
Because many of these stories throughout history almost feel like repeats. The girl who claims the throne despite rumours of illegitimacy (Elizabeth I of England to success, Joanna la Beltraneja to failure), the woman who loses everything trying to hold onto her throne (Charlotte of Cyprus, Joanna II of Naples), the bride that is repeatedly used to hold onto an alliance (Isabella of Aragon, Maria Francisca of Savoy). The details are what matter, but even the details feel similar in many cases.
And this is to limit the parallels to medieval, European history. Because while Westeros is innately early modern and European in nature, the world it inhabits clearly pulls from the histories of Africa, the Byzantine Empire and the ancient world. It’s a rich text in it’s own right, only made richer for the influences.
What I think George RR Martin gets correct in his version of history is just of many women there are, both in front and behind the political lines, fighting for their own desired outcome. While not every woman was banging her brother and burning down the biggest place of worship in the capital city, many were trapped in a game they had a handicap in. But they were still forced to play. Opting out isn’t an option when you’re a potential piece for somebody else.
When you play the game of thrones, you win or you die.
Select bibliography
The Lady Queen: The Notorious Reign of Joanna I, Queen of Naples, Jerusalem, and Sicily by Nancy Goldstone - link
Four Queens: The Provencal Sisters by Nancy Goldstone - link
George RR Martin on Historical Influences in Game of Thrones