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Is Vita and Virginia good for women's history? Gemma Arterton has been the main reason I’ve recommended Vita and Virginia since first watching, not just because of the death grip she has had on me since St Trinian’s, but rather because she has the rare quality of being able to depict female queer experiences in a relatable and convincing way. (If you haven’t watched the film, or Summerland, another queer period drama starring Arterton, go and watch them now). It wasn’t until I rewatched the film for the purposes of this article that I noticed just how well Elizabeth Debicki portrays female queerness. In fact, the subtleties of Debicki’s Virginia, as opposed to Arterton’s Vita make for, in my opinion, a more convincing narrative of female queerness. Vita and Virginia is a film, adapted from a play, which is in turn based on the love letters of authors Vita Sackville-West and Virginia Woolf. You might be wondering, if it’s a historical-fiction film based on a sapphic relationship, surely you’re not asking ‘Is this good for women’s history?’? Well, actually, yes. The narrative doesn’t simply depict that a homoerotic relationship happened between the two women. It also feeds into a narrative that queer, in particular bisexual women are either sexually promiscuous, or mentally unstable. That’s not to say that these women weren’t these things, Vita, as we will explore, was certainly sexually promiscuous, and to say that Virginia wasn’t mentally unstable would be an oversight of a lifetime. My criticism of this depiction isn’t that these women weren’t promiscuous and mentally unwell. However, Vita wasn’t simply a woman who fell in love quickly and dramatically, and Virginia wasn’t just a woman who paced the floor waiting for Vita. To skip ahead, whilst this film is not bad for women’s history, there are ways it could better represent and advocate for both queer women’s history and women’s literary history. N.b. as well as homoerotic scandal, sexuality, and identity, this article will also reference Woolf’s mental health (who is suspected to have had bipolar disorder). Virginia Woolf died by suicide in 1941, and some aspects of the film are hard to watch. There will be specific trigger warnings prior to discussions of these scenes. Please feel free not to read these parts if you may be affected by them. Accuracy Virginia Woolf is an author who needs little introduction. Born to a middle-class family in South Kensington, she married a friend of her brother, Leonard Woolf, to whom she reportedly had no attraction to at the start of their marriage. Despite this, the Woolfs were, as they appear in the film, reliant on each other emotionally and professionally. Together with contemporaries including Nessa and Clive Bell, (Virginia’s sister and brother-in-law) the Woolfs helped form the ‘Bloomsbury Group’ (basically your intellectually elite, sexually liberal, potential revolutionaries) and co-founded The Hogarth Press, an oft struggling publishing house which was, much to Virginia’s chagrin, saved from ruin by Vita’s work. Virginia was of course also the author of works such as Mrs Dalloway, A Room of One’s Own, and Orlando, a semi-biographical novelisation about none other than Vita Sackville-West. Recent work concerning Virginia Woolf often cites her relationship with Vita Sackville-West as the trigger to her most successful literary period. Personally, I think this is hyperbolic. The work written throughout and after the relationship the women shared was exemplary, this much is true. But assigning Virginia's success to Vita's influence would not pass by feminists if Vita were a man, hence her literary talent is not attributed to her husband, despite his influence on the author. The film spends more time on the typically Sapphic life of Vita Sackville-West. Despite being the only child of the third Baron Sackville and his cousin-wife, Vita was barred from inheriting her father’s estate and title, because, well, she was a girl. This was a point of lifelong contention, and some have (inaccurately) suggested that this contributed to her relationships with women. If there is evidence in Vita’s childhood of her sexual leanings, it is in what she would later describe as being psychologically “divided in two”: one side being feminine, soft, submissive, and attracted to men, the other masculine, hard, aggressive, and attracted to women. Her granddaughter, Juliet, has said that “From the age of 12, Vita was sure she was gay… She would play in a khaki uniform then come in and put on her silks and pearls.” Perhaps we could best describe Vita Sackville-West as suffering with compulsory-heterosexuality? Both her parents had lovers throughout her childhood, whom Vita was not only aware of, but partially raised by. For example, her fluency in French was largely thanks to the time spent in the Parisian home of Sir John Murray-Scott, her mother’s lover. Whilst her father’s mistress, an opera singer, lived with the family at Knole. Vita seems to have continued this informal familiarity with love and sex as she grew up, embarking on several affairs throughout her teenage years, early adulthood and indeed her marriage. For example, by the time of her formal society debut in 1910, she had a sexual relationship with Rosamund Grosvenor and a perpetually chaotic love affair with Violet Keppel, later Trefusis, the daughter of Alice Keppel, mistress to Edward VII. Vita and Violet met at Helen Wolff’s school for girls with their sexual relationship starting in their teen years and continuing for much of their adult lives. Vita married Harold Nicholson in 1913, after what she described as a “completely chaste” courtship . The pair immediately embarked on an open marriage, with both Vita and Harold enjoying same-sex relationships. Vita had secured herself a double bearded marriage. Each gave the other liberty to pursue the love and freedom they wanted, however, they were also aware of their marital duties as upper-class, and they dutifully had two children, Benedict, born in 1914 and Nigel, in 1917. Vita would also begrudgingly fulfil her duties as a diplomat’s wife when she absolutely needed to. Now you might be wondering, so, what was Vita? Gay, Bi? Straight up confused? If you Google ‘Was Vita Sackville-West gay?’, you’ll find several articles about the ‘fabulous forgotten history of Vita Sackville West,’ her lesbianism, relationship with Virginia, and her and her husband’s astounding gayness. Not to burst the bubble, but to quote Nick Nelson in Heartstopper. “I’m bisexual, actually.” Both Vita and Harold had relationships with men and women, they both, shockingly, seem to have genuinely loved each other and had sex at least three times (they had a third stillborn son) so if we must label them (something I try not to do) then bisexual definitely appears to be the more fitting terminology here. It’s worth mentioning here that bisexuality and historical study is a tricky subject, largely because historians don’t seem to be fully aware that attraction to more than one gender is a possibility. There is also a justified reluctance to label historical figures with twenty-first century awareness, but that's a different discussion. To turn to the drama of Violet Keppel… Vita and Violet had been in a sort of exclusive ‘lesbian’ relationship since their teens, this came to a crashing halt when Violet, depressed and abandoned by Vita since her marriage, agreed to an arranged marriage to Denys Trefusis. Vita, as the irrational woman that she was, made Violet promise to never have sex with her husband during a trip to France in 1918. Violet in turn forced Denys to this sexless marriage as a caveat of her agreement, and in 1919 they married. Shortly afterwards, Vita and Violet ran off to France, but Violet was swiftly retrieved by her husband. In February 1920 when they ran off again, news of the drama reached London almost immediately, in desperation, both husbands followed the couple in a two-seater aeroplane and dragged the women back to England and to their marriages. Later that year, Harold told Vita that Violet had broken her promise and slept with Denys. Violet attempted to keep her hold on Vita with love letters throughout the year, and in 1921 Vita eloped with her again, being called back by Harold’s threats to break off their marriage (and likely restrict her from her sons). Vita returned to England, and Violet to Italy. This characteristic Sapphic-drama is the immediate pretext to the opening of the film, in which Vita, freshly returned to England, now wants to focus on her legitimacy as a writer, gain access to the elite ‘Bloomsbury Group’, and is absolutely fascinated by the elusive figure that is Virginia Woolf. The film opens with cut scenes of Harold and Vita giving a radio interview about their successful marriage, Vita’s mother threatening to remove her sons from her custody, Vita herself arriving at a party hosted in Bloomsbury, gazing in awe at Virginia dancing, and then pursuing both Virginia and a place for her own novels within The Hogarth Press. The film is largely told from Vita’s perspective and is based on the letters exchanged between Vita and Virginia from 1922-1928. Broadly speaking, the screenplay does a fair job of depicting their complex romance, its strengths lying in Arterton’s depiction of Vita as somewhat self-obsessed, whilst simultaneously disparaging of her talents as a writer, especially in comparison to Virginia. As you watch, you find yourself struggling to believe Vita’s genuine feelings. Is she using Virginia for access to the Press? Yet the viewer also understands that Vita’s published works are far more successful than that of Virginia’s, or indeed of The Hogarth Press in its entirety. The publishing of her work would boost the company’s reputation. Virginia and her husband are wary of Vita and her work, its popularity and how she fits into their world. Debicki, as Virginia, presents as frantic, confused, and socially freer than Vita. She does not share a desire to have wildly popular novels, though there is a recognition that slightly more successful publications would be financially beneficial. She is also conflicted by Vita’s person, does she follow her blindly, or does she stay where she is safe, in her apparently loveless marriage? Throughout the film, Virginia is in a state of queer confusion and obsession, and Vita pursues her with the same rigour and brief infatuation as she did her previous lovers, with little understanding of Virginia’s unstable personality. This is a clear case of obsession and control. Vita eventually loses interest, and stops replying to Virginia’s letters, demonstrating her lack of understanding of the complexities of Virginia’s mental health. This is furthered by the scene which sees Vita bring another woman to Nessa’s art show. Virginia spirals, and the audience can understand her staring into the choppy water as a foreshadowing of her eventual suicide in the River Ouse. The obsessive writing of Orlando in the following scenes depicts both a manic episode of Virginia’s bipolar, and Vita’s malignant narcissism; as Virginia produces a novel based on the split lives, loves, masculinity and femininity of Vita Sackville-West, who then returns to Virginia, flattered by the attention. This appears to be a fairly accurate depiction of the development of their relationship in 1927-1928. It’s worth mentioning that much of the film is fictionalised and although based on letters and other primary sources, there is only so far a dramatisation can go in terms of accuracy. However, there are several moments which are interspersed throughout the film which assist the story's legitimacy. These include on Vita’s side: references to Violet and Vita’s elopements, Vita and Harold’s open marriage and her reluctance to partake in her duties as a diplomat’s wife, mention of their Garden Design at Sissinghurst, and Vita’s mother’s threats to remove the children from her custody due to Vita’s promiscuity. On Virginia’s side of events, notable accuracy comes in the form of the co-dependence of her marriage, the informality of the ‘Bloomsbury Group’, in particular their views on sexuality, medical advice which actually made her symptoms worse, and the literary creativity that Vita inspired in her. Sensitivity (TW: mention of sexual assault, s*lf-h*rm, and s*icide) It feels more fitting to discuss the intricacies of their sexual relationship and Virginia’s mental health through a critical lens aiming at sensitivity rather than accuracy. Virginia Woolf’s sexual encounters were not as free and positively queer as Vita Sackville-West’s. In childhood, Virginia had been molested by her older half-brother Gerald Duckworth at six years-old. Virginia’s biographers believe that it was these experiences which led to her life-long fear of sexual relationships and masculinity, the abuse by her half-brother(s) and potentially also by her cousin is described by Virginia as being a consistent feature of her childhood, and has been discussed by Hermione Lee and Lyndall Gordon as fundamental to her character. These experiences would have undeniably had an impact on Virginia’s already precarious mental health, and can be used to understand her codependency and obsession both with her husband and Vita. The scenes depicting the Sapphic couple’s sexual relationship suggest that this was the first time Virginia enjoyed sex. Considering her writing of her relationship with Leonard this may be a slight exaggeration, however, there is a sense that with Vita, Virginia found fulfilment in her sexuality that had been hitherto repressed. Even if dramatised for the purposes of the film. The film faces the common difficulty of how to depict Virginia’s health without buying into the narrative of the hysterical woman. Historians and psychologists have suggested that Virginia had bipolar disorder, characterised by periods of intense depression and elevated moods, sometimes known as mania. During these periods of mania the individual will rarely sleep and often have increased anxiety, sometimes hallucinations, all of which are portrayed in the film. Several scenes allude to Virginia’s eventual suicide and this is particularly notable when Virginia is briefly suspected to have gone into the water after her sister’s art opening. This small but meaningful moment directly depicts Virginia’s inability to understand her own emotions (the viewer can understand her heartbreak over Vita more clearly than herself). This is followed by the writing process of Orlando, which arguably poses as a manifestation of Virginia’s mania concerning Vita, subsequently encouraged by Vita’s typified narcissism. Orlando is a love letter, featuring Vita as an English Noble named Orlando spanning multiple centuries and genders. Relationships such as that with Violet Keppel and Virginia are both featured throughout the narrative and the title character is an enigma to the very end. The novel is a complex biography of a complex individual, it continues to divide opinion of if you are meant to like Orlando or not, and thus, of Virginia’s true feelings towards her. Perhaps the best adjective would be obsession. On some levels, the pair seem to have shared a good understanding of the other, but their relationship feels unequal. Virginia’s love for Vita appears genuine, if obsessive. Vita’s love, on the other hand, is self-concerned, regarding the improvement of her own writing, engagement with the literary community she craves and, in some ways, about the power she could hold over her lovers. So, is this a fair representation? Of the women individually, it does feel fair, and in Virginia’s case in particular, sensitive; you can’t help but be struck by the constant expression of confusion, mild panic and anxiety that Debicki has. Arterton’s Vita is harsher, and less sympathetic. As a couple they aren’t greatly convincing, there is perhaps too much attention paid to their respective marriages, to feel as if they could have really had the impact on each other’s lives and literary careers that they did. Entertainment Like all historical-fiction, the point is to be entertaining before it is to be accurate. Which is why I hasten to add that although based on their letters, this film is not entirely accurate to the women it characterises and it can only speculate the gaps in the evidence. Regarding entertainment, the film is generally an enjoyable one. It is occasionally slow, and unless you know about Virginia’s experiences and Vita’s relationships, several of the references might go over your head. If you do understand these, however, they add to the entertainment brilliantly. Overall, Vita and Virginia is a film which aims to depict an adulterous Sapphic relationship without being vulgar. For all the words to describe this film, vulgarity is not one of them. Vita and Virginia manages to make a scandalous series of events natural and enjoyable to watch. A stand out feature must be the wardrobe and set design. In particular, Vita’s silhouettes often depict the duality of how she considered her identity; split between the masculine, represented in clean tailored cuts intended to make Arterton appear taller than she is and dominant, and the feminine, shown in accessories, and glamourous make-up. She directly contrasts with the simpler femininity of the other women throughout the film, who wear more delicate, draped fabrics. Virginia’s wardrobe articulates her mental state and her lower social class. The fabrics for her outfits are noticeably lesser quality and the silhouettes are designed to be dishevelled. Often, her hair and makeup are used to present her worsening depression with great effect. Vita and Virginia are presented as flawed women and despite both being pretty unlikeable, they are easy to care for. Feminism The question of feminism when discussing Vita Sackville-West and Virginia Woolf is an interesting one. Each are distinctly unique women, both shaped by their sex, identity, and experiences with men. Vita’s story, her sexual liberty, bearded relationship, and success in her professional and personal life is perhaps easier to depict as feminist in modern work. Her internal struggle regarding her sex and her inheritance as well as her determination to maintain her liberty and gain respect among her peers is admirable and relatable. Where she struggles against a recognisable patriarchal background, she gains sympathy and understanding. The modern audience enjoys a strong, independent woman. Virginia’s more tragic story, largely shaped by men, has often been subject to a feminist lens in an attempt to reclaim her story to fit modern definitions of gender, equality and sexuality. This film doesn’t really follow this pattern, and it is easy to forget that the Virginia on our screen was the wild, anarchical writer. It is Virginia’s, not Vita’s work which remains at the forefront of feminist literature. Vita and Virginia presents a narrative that Vita breathed life into Virginia throughout the narrative of this film, and that without her, Virginia would have struggled to be. Virginia’s writing is in danger of being pushed aside in this story, except of course for the work she produced about Vita. But, Virginia’s life was not about Vita, and the suggestion that it was, damages her impact on literary and feminist history. Is Vita and Virginia good for women’s history? Probably. Films like this one bring these individuals into the attention of audiences in an age when we can openly discuss the impact they had on each other as de facto muses, especially with the acknowledgement that Orlando is a love letter. But, as with any version of history, this shouldn’t be the only version of them. Both women were more than the people they loved, and I for one want to see Vita’s relationship with Violet explored on screen, and Virginia’s mental health, its causes and its repercussions shown in more depth. Further Reading: Vita and Virginia, dir. Chanya Button, (Bohemia Media, 2018), https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/video/detail/amzn1.dv.gti.3d8d1e48-e1bc-45d3-a4d2-aa2e34689b90?autoplay=0&ref_=atv_cf_strg_wb Beresford, George Charles, 'Woolf, (Adeline), Virginia', Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, (2004), < https://www.oxforddnb.com/display/10.1093/ref:odnb/9780198614128.001.0001/odnb-9780198614128-e-1003284?rskey=pH0ozi&result=2> Gordon, Lyndall, Virginia Woolf: A Writer's Life, (Oxford University Press, 1984) Hochstrasser, T. J. , 'West, Victoria Mary [Vita] Sackville-', Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, (2004/2017), < https://doi.org/10.1093/ref:odnb/35903> Lee, Hermione, Virginia Woolf, (Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group, 1999) Woolf, Virginia, Orlando, (London, The Hogarth Press, 1928) Sackville-West, Vita, Woolf, Virginia, The Letters of Vita Sackville-West to Virginia Woolf, (London: Virago Press, 1992)

Glossary ERR (Einsatzstab Reichsleiter Rosenberg) - A looting group created by Alfred Rosenberg, initially their goal was to collect archives, books, and other Jewish cultural goods to examine and develop anti-Jewish studies. In 1940 they became a plundering group for all types of valuables from their "enemies" when the seizure of cultural holdings - ranging from art pieces to antique furniture - was authorised by the Führer. Reichsmarschall - Second in command to Hitler, a position created for Herman Göring who was commander of the Luftwaffe and an avid art collector. He made sure to take thousands of the looted pieces for his private art collection - going as far as stealing from Hitler. MFA&A - The Monuments, Fine Art and Archives Division of the Allied Forces created in the United States. Members of other Allied countries, mainly from the United Kingdom and France made up the division with both men and women having important ranks in it. Born in the commune of Saint-Étienne-de-Saint-Geoirs in France, Rose Valland (1898-1980) is - in my humble opinion - one of the most important women in art history, despite not being an artist herself. Volunteering as an art historian and assistant curator at the Jeu de Paume, Valland's job consisted of cataloguing artworks housed at the museum. The first record of her work at the Jeu de Paume was in 1933 of the painting 'Paysage' by Else Berg, acquired by the French government. Berg was a Dutch woman with both German and Jewish heritage - an intriguing coincidence considering the work that Mademoiselle Valland would carry out in the years to come. Paris, previously a beacon for cultural development, became a central location for the Nazi government. There the ERR catalogued much of the art plunder before shipping it to hidden locations around the Third Reich. Modern databases tell historians that 20% of all art in Europe was stolen by the Nazi regime. While most remain missing, from the 10% that were recovered by the Allied army, much was only found because of the list put together by Rose Valland. She was the only French worker kept at Jeu de Paume after the Nazi occupation of France. Undermined for being a woman, she was able to work from the inside in favour of the French resistance and continue her previous work with a new motivation: cataloguing to save European culture. Life before the War Little is known about her personal life before the period during which she volunteered and later worked at the museum. However, something known to those that study her story is the fact she was queer. To twentieth century standards, Valland was an "out and proud" lesbian. After the war she shared an apartment in Paris with her partner, author Joyce Heer, and they were buried together in the Valland family crypt. Paris in the 1920s and 1930s was a centre for the lesbian community, but during the war they were forced to hide. Sadly, little of the Parisian lesbian subculture survived the Occupation. Valland was extremely well educated in the arts, having studied at the École des Beaux-Arts in Paris and Lyon as well as studying art history at the École du Louvre and at the Sorbonne Université. Regardless of her large number of academic achievements, she began her career at the Jeu de Paume as a volunteer - only receiving her first paid position during the Occupation. The atmosphere of the heritage world after the Great War and the fears of the war to come were well noticed by the art historian - something she wrote about in her book 'Le Front de L'Art: Défense de Collection Française' (1961). Valland wrote about the pre-war preparations that took place both at the Jeu de Paume and the Louvre under orders of the Director of French National Museums, Jacques Jaujard, who already faced the perils that the previous war had posed to the cultural world. She describes how the staff of Parisian museums began to 'box up' the valuable paintings and statues so they could be sent to safe locations and, the more noble ones - such as the Mona Lisa - were hidden around the country. In 1938, Jaujard trusted Valland with the responsibility of overseeing the collections and running the Jeu de Paume whilst the curator was ill. She remained in the position as, not long after, in 1940, Nazi forces occupied Paris. The Occupation Throughout her book 'Le Front de L'Art: Défense des Collections Françaises' (1961), Valland describes that soon after the Nazis took over Paris they began to remove French workers from governmental and civil work positions - this included museum officials. However, she was able to stay employed throughout the entire war period - regardless of their many attempts to fire her. Nonetheless, they undermined her for being a woman, believing she would be compliant and obedient. They were unaware that not only did she quickly understand their cataloguing system and began one of her own, but also that she understood German, listening in on all of the officers' conversations about plans and information on the Reich. During the four years of occupation, Valland kept a careful log of the large collection of art pieces that passed through the Jeu de Paume. The pieces were divided between the private collections of the Führer, the Reischmarschall's and the pieces chosen for the Linz Museum Project. She recorded the artist, the provenance, and the title of the pieces - the ones that were kept and the ones considered degenerate by Nazi officials, which were destroyed. Valland filled books with this information, which would become some of the most important files for the Allied forces. Valland also achieved what many believed impossible: she uncovered six of the locations the ERR sent their plunder for 'safe-keeping'. These were five castles - Neuschwanstein, Köge, Nickolsburg, Chiemsee and the Seiseinegg - and the Kloster Buxheim Monastery. They also used of salt mines located around the Third Reich. The only art that was not kept in any of these places was Göring's personal collection, which made the pieces he selected harder to locate. Her thorough research into the Nazi's own illegal art market, was one of the main reasons as to why the MFA&A were able to locate and repatriate around 60,000 pieces of stolen art - with 20,000 alone being found at Neuschwanstein Castle. Beaux-Art Captain Valland As the war neared its end, the Allied forces created the MFA&A - later receiving their famous nickname: the Monuments Men. A division formed by art historians, museum officials, architects and artists of all calibre composed by both men and women. A division that understood the threat faced by art and culture and were determined to save, restore, and repatriate the lost art. Rose Valland became invaluable to this division, as she held both the up-to-date information and deep knowledge of art. Like most professional organisations of the time, the MFA&A was mainly composed of men, but they had women in high ranks and working in important roles in the army. While they did not go to the front and fight to recover the plundered art, they were responsible with completing provenance research, organisation of restitution documents and helped analyse and locate Nazi hiding spots so platoons could go out and look for the loot. Rose Valland was one of these important women. Though she was not part of the MFA&A, she enlisted and became part of the French First Army in 1945 to continuously work for the safeguarding and return of art - granting her a Captain rank in the French army. She worked closely with the Allied division and became close with several members - describing in her book the friendship with Lieutenant James Rorimer, curator of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, as one with complete trust between them. He was the one to whom she entrusted her list. For her efforts in assisting in recovering tens of thousands works of art, as well as her work during the war years, she received a series of medals and became the most decorated woman in the French Army. In the Monuments Men and Women website (which only changed its title to include 'Women' in 2022), she is listed to have received: the Legion of Honor, the Medal of the Résistance, the Officer’s Cross of the Order of Merit of the Federal Republic of Germany, became Commander of the Order of Arts and Letters appointed by the French government and, in 1948, she was awarded the United States Presidential Medal of Freedom. Even though she received several military medals throughout the years, she was only recognised as a professional and granted the official work title of art curator in 1953. Overlooked but not forgotten While Rose Valland might not (yet) be part of World War II discussions in academia, she certainly has not been entirely left out of the narrative. Films, biographies and books about her continue to be published. At the Jeu de Paume, a plaque was placed to honour her work and in Lyon an exhibition was put together presenting her story. All of this shows that her importance has not been entirely forgotten. Captain Valland might be remembered by few but with these acts she is able to come to life a little more through every new representation. In cinema she has been represented in two films, The Train (1964) and The Monuments Men (2014) but, in both feature films, her actions were diminished. The most recent film, which used Valland for character inspiration, even put the character back in the closet through an attempt of creating a romantic narrative with the Rorimer inspired character. Hollywood's change in her identity to construct - what they believe to be - an "interesting" narrative shows how little research was done on Valland and her importance and participation in the war efforts. An exhibition named Le Dame du Jeu de Paume was curated in 2009 and displayed through to 2010 at the CHRD (Centre d'Histoire de la Résistance et de la Déportation) in Lyon, portraying the history of the art curator and her importance to France. A few books worth mentioning that have been published are her own, Le Front de L'Art (1961) that had a new edition printed in 2014 - with two articles and photos being added to the print -, Le Carnet des Rose Valland (2011) by Emmanuelle Pollack, which unites all of her manuscripts in one publication, and the most recent Rose Valland, l'espionne à l'oeuvre (2023) by Jennifer Lesieur, a biography about Valland's life and impact in art history. Even though the majority of the publications about her originate in France, many of the French themselves are not familiar with one of their national heroes. I was recently in a bookshop in Paris hunting down Valland's book and other pieces written about her and upon asking one of the shopkeepers whether they had it in stock, they wrote her name down incorrectly when checking. Her book about the war period stopped being published a few years after it was first released and - even though Valland expressed a desire to do so - it was never translated into English, something that diminished the outreach of her important work. The Saviour of Culture When the history and culture of Europe was at risk of being lost forever, Rose Valland made sure that this heritage would not disappear. A task that seemed impossible to complete, her efforts to continuously keep art safe and where it belonged is one of the biggest legacies left by Valland. She participated largely in the work for restitution of looted artworks for the French and Jewish families all over Europe. Captain Valland must be remembered and presented to the public. Without her, it is likely that tens of thousands of artworks would have been forever lost because of looting during the war. Further reading Campbell, Elizabeth. 2021. ‘Monuments Women and Men: Rethinking Popular Narratives via British Major Anne Olivier Popham’, International Journal of Cultural Property, 28.3: 409–24 https://doi.org/10.1017/s0940739121000308 Centre d'Histoire de la Résistance et de la Déportation. 2010. ‘La Dame Du Jeu de Paume’, CHRD | Musée d’Histoire | Lyon Dans La Guerre, 1939-1945 https://www.chrd.lyon.fr/chrd/edito-musee/la-dame-du-jeu-de-paume Christie's. 2023. ‘Celebrating the Contributions of Women in Art Restitution, on the 25th Anniversary of the Washington Principles on Nazi-Confiscated Art’, Christie’s https://www.christies.com/features/celebrating-the-contributions-of-women-in-art-restitution-12668-1.aspx ERR Project. 2015. ‘Cultural Plunder by the Einsatzstab Reichsleiter Rosenberg (ERR): Database of Art Objects at the Jeu de Paume’, Errproject.org https://www.errproject.org/jeudepaume/about/err.php Flanner, Janet. 1947. ‘The Beautiful Spoils - Collector with Luftwaffe’, The New Yorker (Condé Nast) https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/1947/03/08/the-beautiful-spoils-3 ‘Valland, Capt. Rose | Monuments Men and Women | Monuments Men Foundation’. [n.d.]. Monuments Men and Women Foundation https://www.monumentsmenandwomenfnd.org/valland-capt-rose Valland, Rose. 2016. Le Front de l’Art : Défense Des Collections Françaises : 1939-1945 (Paris: Réunion Des Musées Nationaux)

Thick winged eyeliner and striking colours of blue and gold are utilised in many modern portrayals of ancient Egyptians, but how accurate is this design? Makeup, cosmetic tools, and cosmetic containers have been found across Egypt, dating as far back as the predynastic Naqada periods (dated to 4000 - 3000 BC), where intricate cosmetic spoons were carved out of carob wood and used by people of all walks of life. Cosmetology was likely not reserved for the wealthy, and was accessible to all classes, albeit more prevalent among the rich. In this, I will consider a collection of makeup and beauty related artefacts found across Egypt. This collection, whilst not originally a set, represents cosmetic usage and a focus on appearance in the New Kingdom of Egypt, which is considered to date from 1550 BC to 1069 BC. Object 1 - A swivel top ivory pigment jar (The Met) Object 1 Object 1 is an early 18th dynasty swivel topped cosmetic jar that now resides in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It was discovered in the head of a coffin in Thebes, alongside other vessels and small trinkets, such as several ivory combs, and is dated between 1550 BC and 1458 BC. It is likely that it once held different types of dry or powdered cosmetics, such as a form of blush. It had inlaid coloured decorations of Egyptian Blue within the rosette pattern that is carved into the ivory. It would have been used after the morning bath and integrated as part of a daily routine, alongside body oils and perfumes, as there was a focus on hygiene and appearance at this time. Object 2 - Decorated Cosmetic Spoon (UCL Petrie Museum) Object 2 Object 2 is a late 18th dynasty carved and highly decorated cosmetic spoon, which is sometimes referred to as a ‘toilet spoon’ that is held in the Petrie Museum of Egyptian Archaeology. It was interred in the tomb of the Egyptian governor Menena at the site of Sedment-el-Jebel in Lower Egypt. It has several decorative motifs with the shape of the ankh, which represents life, and several lotus flowers used throughout. This focus of decorative motifs which symbolise life and rebirth may indicate the importance of makeup and its implements in the daily life of many Egyptian people. The most striking decoration is of a naked woman with an instrument, likely a lute, who forms the main body of the spoon, with her standing in a boat which forms the base. Ducks and fish are also depicted around the base with other natural imagery. The intricateness of this design and the care taken to carve it is highly telling in the status that makeup and the practitioners of it held within Egyptian society. Object 3 - Cosmetic Set (The Met) Object 3 Object 3 is a collection of cosmetic tools that focus on the removal of hair, as seen by its inclusion of a razor, a whetstone, and tweezers. The collection also includes a tube of kohl, and a mirror. This collection has a tentative date of between 1550 BC and 1458 BC, placing it firmly in the 18th dynasty. This set is likely that of a wealthy person, as mirrors were not common objects in ancient Egypt, with the reflective surface being highly polished metals. They, like this one, are often very highly decorated and were mostly used for grooming purposes, especially when linked with kohl, which was utilised as a form of eyeliner and brow filler. The hair removal implements also indicate that this was owned by someone of higher status, as it is seen that the wealthier were more likely to remove the hair, primarily because of financials, but also as they commonly had lives where wigs were not an inconvenience, unlike the labourers. The Purpose of Makeup These objects provide an overview of a makeup set that would have been used in Egypt’s New Kingdom, primarily within the 18th dynasty. As a whole, makeup was a practical tool within Ancient Egypt, due to the kohl being used as a tool to protect the eyes and delicate skin from the harsh glare of the sun, and its reflection from the Nile and the desert sand. Kohl itself is also thought to have had some form of antibacterial and antimicrobial elements once it had been applied to the skin and eyes. The origins of Egyptian words also exposes how integral the usage of makeup was in their society. The Egyptian term for makeup palette is derived from the term ‘to protect’ showing this alternate use to shield the eyes and protect from germs. In the same way, the Egyptian term for makeup artist is derived from their term for writing and engraving, and due to the status of scribes within Egyptian society, it is assumed and understood that skill was required to properly apply makeup and that it was seen as an important role to be able to do so. The removal of the hair is also often seen in ancient Egyptian bodies, likely done in an effort to keep the person cooler in the extreme heat. It is thought that the use of wigs rose after this as a way to block the sun reaching the neck and head, whilst still allowing for the movement of air through the netting and therefore providing a cooling effect. It could also be a deterrent to pests, such as head lice that thrive in natural hair. It seems that the decision to remove the hair is entirely self preferential, but it is likely that it was considered a status symbol to wear a wig. Throughout some periods of the New Kingdom, archaeologists are aware of strict rules regarding hairstyle, especially related to class, but this is not easily seen within the record. Makeup also played a role in the ancient Egyptian religion and was associated differently with many of the deities in their pantheon. Horus was often depicted with thick black kohl surrounding his eyes, and Isis is often shown with red lipstick. It is also thought that it was believed that makeup had the power to reinvigorate and transform those that wore it into gods and protected them from evil spirits that may wish them harm, especially in the afterlife. Coffin texts that were utilised in the funerary process also included spells that gave instructions for makeup usage for the afterlife. It is reinforced within Egyptian art of both Pharaohs and Gods that makeup was utilised and seen as a powerful tool that was highly respected for all of its uses. Modern Day Applications Dramatic, thick eyeliner that has been inspired, or pays homage to Ancient Egypt, has become a staple in many fashion magazines and in film. Elizabeth Taylor’s 1963 depiction of Cleopatra cemented her as a sex symbol and perpetrated the Western ideal of ancient Egyptian peoples as being glamorous and highly decorated. This is increasingly seen throughout visual media, with Hollywood blockbuster movies such as 1999’s ‘The Mummy’ which goes to the extreme with the character of Anck-su-namun wearing full body paint that was used to identify whether she had been touched by anyone other than the Pharaoh himself. This link between Egyptian art and sexuality is continually perpetuated throughout the media with the ideal being increasingly fetishised, especially in the West. There is also no historical evidence of makeup being used in this way throughout Egypt, thereby allowing for this glamorizations to become the publically understood view of ancient Egypt. Makeup was a practical tool, a medical tool, and yes maybe a beauty tool, but it was certainly more than just a way for women to make themselves presentable for men. Elizabeth Taylor as Cleopatra in the 1963 film 'Cleopatra' where she is depicted with heavy makeup and a full headdress The character Anck-Su-Namun from the 1999 hit film 'The Mummy' who is stylised with body paint and golden accents Vogue also curates numerous displays dedicated to channelling ancient Egyptian style in their magazine. Articles such as “Egyptian Magic! 14 Ways to Channel Your Inner Cleopatra This Week” have been published to promote different makeup items and brands, utilising the allure of ancient Egypt and the perception that they were glamorous people. Articles such as this one have no real basis in history, and only further the Western glorification of Egyptian women. They aid women in feeling more ‘exotic’ but can perpetuate harmful stereotypes and the sexualisation of women. This is furthered by a 2017 photoshoot of Rihanna that was completed by Vogue Arabia, in which she was depicted as Nefertiti with bold colours and thick eyeliner. This was a glamorous reproduction of ancient Egyptian style that again has no real basis in historical fact, although it did depict a beautiful recreation of Nefertiti’s crown as seen in her famous bust. However, it has been considered by some to be a display of appropriation and once again allowing for the ideal of ancient Egypt to spread further from its truth. The article being published by Vogue Arabia also adds another layer of discourse to this, where the article can be seen as a reclamation of the western romanticization of Eastern beauty, or alternatively, as perpetuating these romantic notions of Eastern history further onto the Western audience. Rihanna herself is Barbadian and of other broadly European and African descent, decidedly not Arabic or Egyptian. However, despite the negative connotations that many modern uses of Egyptian style bring to light, the protective hairstyles and wigs that were utilised have stood the test of time and are still utilised by mostly black communities in the modern day. Rihanna on the cover of Vogue, stylised like the Nefertiti bust These women and companies reinforce Egyptian stereotypes regarding beauty and put forth the view of vanity, rather than understanding the religious, spiritual, and practical uses that makeup was used for at this time. The public view of makeup has become critical and bitter in recent years with many condemning overuse as a entrapment tool, however, they fail to understand deep historical ties and have little respect for the history and story that comes along with the development and pervasiveness of makeup as an artform, as well as part of daily life. Further Reading: Baduel, N. (2005). Tegumentary Paint and Cosmetic Palettes in Predynastic Egypt. The Impact of Those Artefacts on the Birth of the Monarchy. In: Origin of the State. L’Egypte pré- et protodynastique. Les origines de l’Etat Predynastic and Early Dynastic Egypt. Origin of the State. Toulouse, France: Origines, pp.12–13. Buckley, R. (2012). Time to Wake up to make-up. Ophthalmic & Physiological Optics, 32(2012), pp.443–445. ISSN 0275-5408. Fletcher, J. (2005). The Decorated Body in Ancient Egypt: In: The Clothed Body in the Ancient World. Oxford: Oxbow Books, pp.3–13. doi:10.2307/j.ctt1w0dcp5.6. Healy, M. (2013). New Kingdom Egypt. Bloomsbury Publishing. O’Neill, B. (2011). Reflections of Eternity: An Overview on Egyptian Mirrors from Prehistory to the New Kingdom. Egyptological. Scott, D.A. (2014). A review of ancient Egyptian pigments and cosmetics. app.dimensions.ai, [online] 61(4), pp.185–202. doi:10.1179/2047058414y.0000000162. Tapsoba, I., ArbaultS., Walter, P. and Amatore, C. (2010). Finding Out Egyptian Gods’ Secret Using Analytical Chemistry: Biomedical Properties of Egyptian Black Makeup Revealed by Amperometry at Single Cells. Analytical Chemistry, 82(2), pp.457–460. doi:10.1021/ac902348g.

1443-1509 TW: Suicide, difficult birth, death and grief The badass single mum who ended 30 years of battles and started a royal empire Glossary Lord- A nobleman with a high-ranking position in society with political power Lady- A noblewoman who is high ranking and has political power or is married to a Lord Duke- A nobleman ranking higher than Lord but below the monarch Duchess- A woman who holds the title of Duke in her own right or is married to a Duke Earl- A nobleman of high rank above Lord Consummated- to solidify a marriage through sexual intercourse Dukedom- the given title to a Duke/Duchess but usually inherited by the eldest son of the duke Wardship- the legal guardianship of a minor and their estate by a court-appointed guardian (a bit like a godparent) Royal Charter- a grant by the King/Queen of independent legal personality on an organisation and defines its privilege and purpose Margaret Beaufort was born in Bletsoe, Bedfordshire, on the 31st of May 1443 (sometimes disputed as 1441). Her parents were Margaret Beauchamp, a widow, and the 3rd Earl and 1st Duke of Somerset, John Beaufort. Let’s just be grateful that young Margaret had a (slightly) different last name to her mother; otherwise, this would have been a very confusing start to her biography. Margaret has been described as the walking, talking concept of medieval adversity throughout her life. She was nearly a year old when her father passed away under suspected, but not confirmed, suicide after causing the failure of a serious expedition. John’s death meant that Margaret Senior would be a widow; this brought about some unusual laws regarding the custody of Maggie Junior. Usually, the law did not allow women guardianship due to the rules of holding land. The child (in this case, Margaret) and the feudal lands are returned to the King, which, at the time, was Henry VI. Margaret could be given custody of Maggie Junior if granted by the King. This seems to have happened before John went on the expedition, as he had negotiated with Henry VI that Margaret Senior would have the rights to their daughter’s wardship and marriage upon his death. Due to the issues caused by her father in life, the King went back on the negotiation and the wardship of Margaret’s extensive lands was granted to William de la Pole, 1st Duke of Suffolk. Margaret did remain in her mother’s custody, as set out in John’s will/negotiations with the King. Being with her mother appeared to be a blessing as she became well-educated; evidence proves this. For example, her French was excellent, and she translated many books from French to English. She practised her religion (Catholicism) in French, too. Her Latin wasn’t as strong, but this didn’t matter as women didn’t usually have an education like Margaret. Even knowing French was incredibly unique and impressive. It is also evident that this was part of the impression she had formed during the time, creating a legacy leading up to this day. As the only child of her father, she was the heir to his fortune, another unusual occurrence due to the same laws outlined above. Feudal lands could be held, in virtue, by an heiress on the death of the patriarch if there were no male heirs. Whilst John’s younger brother, Edmund, inherited the dukedom and some estates, Margaret inherited the riches. This made her susceptible to people wanting her wardship and hand in marriage. This leads us to discuss Margaret’s very brief first marriage. At just six years old, Margaret was desirable for marriage because she was financially stable. This, and her weak link to the throne of England caught the eye of William de la Pole, 1st Duke of Suffolk. He was given, by Henry VI, both the wardship and the right to pick Margaret’s marriage. Naturally, he chose his son, John de la Pole, 2nd Duke of Suffolk, who was seven. Their marriage was through Papal Dispensation, meaning the pope had the right to exempt the union from the Catholic canon law article 1083, which states, “A man before he has completed his sixteenth year of age and a woman before she has completed her fourteenth year of age cannot enter into a valid marriage.” The idea behind William’s unusual and, frankly, impatient plan was that he could secure the throne for his son through Margaret by claiming her to be the next inheritor of the crown. This claim became a part of his impeachment later on. The marriage was annulled when William was charged; his wardship over Margaret was removed. She was a free child again…for a moment. Margaret was 12 years old when she married her second husband, Edmund Tudor, in 1455. This was a marriage that Henry VI seemingly encouraged after he passed the wardship on to his half-brothers Jasper and Edmund. Whilst this marriage was legal, her age was considered to be too young for sex and pregnancy, most indivuals married at this age would not have a full marriage until they were sixteen. Edmund, more concerned about politics and the legitimacy of the marriage, decided not to wait for Margaret to mature to consummate. Margaret became pregnant for the first (and only) time. The birth of this child would be a crucial development towards the so-called ‘Wars of the Roses’. Edmund was the 1st Earl of Richmond, born in Hertfordshire in 1430 and a Lancastrian supporter. This means he supported the House of Lancaster, a male-line branch of the Plantagenets, which started when Henry III created the Earldom of Lancaster. Edmund was the half-brother of Henry VI through Catherine of Valois. Fighting for the Lancastrians and his brother, he was eventually captured by the Yorkists. The Yorkists belong to the House of York, another male-line branch of the Plantagenets but started by Edmund of Langley, the 1st Duke of York. During Edmund's capture at Carmarthen Castle, Wales, he contracted the Plague and passed away. Margaret was seven months pregnant. She was terrified of dying from the plague and how the ongoing issues between the Yorkists and Lancastrians could affect her and her child. She travelled to Pembroke Castle to seek protection from Jasper Tudor, Edmund and Henry VI’s brother, to ensure her and her unborn child's safety. Because of how young and small she was, the birth was considered highly traumatising to her physical health. She never had another child despite a further two marriages after Edmund. She and her son, who (spoiler alert) would become Henry VII, survived the traumatic birth, a testament to their strength. Despite the trauma of the delivery, she looked back on the day as nothing but a blessing. She referred to Henry in letters as her “only desired joy” and “my good and gracious prince”. As a Catholic, Margaret was welcomed back into society with a ceremony called Churching. This took place around six to eight weeks after the child's birth. In this ceremony, the new mother is blessed, and God is thanked for the safe delivery of the child. Once this was done, Jasper Tudor, as the carer of both her and his nephew, arranged Margaret’s subsequent marriage to Sir Henry Stafford. She was 14. Margaret’s third marriage was to Henry Stafford, the first cousin of Edward IV and Richard III, the aforementioned Yorkist Kings. His grandmother was also Margaret’s great-aunt. Stafford and Edward fought on the same battlefield at Townton but on opposing sides. Stafford’s side, the Lancastrians, had been defeated in 1461, and Henry VI was deposed. Edward IV took Pembroke Castle, where Jasper had managed to escape, but Henry (Margaret’s son and the future king) was captured and stripped of his land at age five. Why? Because land was power in the Middle Ages, and Henry and Margaret were on the wrong side to keep it. Over the course of five years, Stafford secured their pardon by swearing allegiance to Edward VI and the Yorkist faction, whilst Margaret worked hard to show she was an ally. Eventually, some land was restored to herself and her son. Playing favourites of the King was a dangerous but essential game, and Margaret was very successful at it (she may have even invented it!) In 1470, Henry VI was restored to the throne. Edward IV was in hiding after the imminent threat from Richard Neville, the “Kingmaker”. Margaret wanted all her son’s lands back, so she mustered the courage to visit Henry VI at Westminster. With Edward VI gone, she was reunited with Henry after nine years and took him to meet his uncle. What made this meeting so unique was the prediction Henry VI had bestowed upon Margaret’s son; he would be king someday. He wasn’t wrong. The restoration of Henry VI’s reign didn’t last, and Edward IV was back in 1471. Stafford reluctantly returned to fighting alongside Edward after dodging the invitation to fight alongside the Lancastrians. The Battle of Barnet was short and violent. Stafford was severely injured. Edward IV retook full power of the throne after the Battle of Tewkesbury in May, a month after Barnet. Henry VI was taken to the Tower of London, never to be seen alive again. With allies of Henry VI being killed left, right, and centre, Margaret had no choice but to send her Henry off to his Uncle Jasper, where they fled into exile to France. In October, Stafford succumbed to his injuries and died. Margaret was widowed and without her son once again. Her subsequent marriage, seven months after the death of Stafford in 1472, was the first marriage of her adulthood, and the first time she made the choice to marry. This marriage was tactical, it was for her own protection. Her superpower was her ability to make the best decisions for herself and her son. She chose Thomas, Lord Stanley: forty, widowed and ready to mingle. The Lancastrians and Yorkists highly desired his support throughout the ‘Wars of the Roses’ (the War of the Cousins as it was known during this period) due to the large amount of land he owned in Lancashire. He never dabbled in such frivolous things as war. Well, not yet, anyway. In 1482, Margaret’s mother and only parent died, which was devastating. She pushed on and, throughout the resumed reign of Edward IV, Margaret used her husband to cosy back up to him to make it safe enough for Henry to return from exile. He was in Brittany after a storm had thrown himself and Jasper off course to France. In particular throughout this period, Margaret fostered a good relationship with Elizabeth Woodville, Edward IV’s wife and queen, and talks of a marriage between the eldest child of Edward and Elizabeth, Elizabeth of York and Henry Tudor came to fruition. Eventually, Edward IV agreed with Margaret that it would benefit Henry to return to England. A pardon was drafted, but in the series of unfortunate events that was Margaret’s life, Edward died in 1483, leaving the pardon incomplete. After his death, the legitimacy of Edward IV’s marriage to Woodville was questioned, suggesting Edward V (their son) was not a legitimate heir. Margaret, along with many others, believed Edward and Elizabeth’s marriage was legitimate and that these talks were… well, all talk. Richard, Duke of Gloucester and Edward IV’s younger brother, kept both Edward’s sons, Edward V, aged twelve and Richard of Shrewsbury and 1st Duke of York, aged ten, in the Tower of London. He did this under the guise of protecting them after demanding them both from their mother. After 1483, they were never seen again. To this day, their demise is a mystery. Margaret, who had maintained constant contact with her son, conversed on the matters of England and continued to plan his return. Yet again, she played up to his desire to be king and was prominent in the coronation of Richard III and Anne Neville. Many believe this was all part of Margaret’s brilliant master plan. She was, after all, suspected of being part of the plot to set the Princes in the Tower free. Unlike the past few kings, Richard III was most suspicious of Margaret and her husband, despite Stanley’s bid for loyalty. She used her shared physician with Elizabeth Woodville to continue the marriage negotiations between Henry and Elizabeth of York. Margaret could never go to Woodville personally; Richard’s men heavily watched the sanctuary at Westminster as Richard was very suspicious of everyone. In secret, they plotted the downfall of Richard. Henry Stafford, 2nd Duke of Buckingham, also began Buckingham’s rebellion against Richard, and the two plots of Margaret and Buckingham overlapped. Buckingham was unlucky with timing and weather, leading to him being caught and killed in Salisbury town. Amongst all this, Stanley remained loyal to Richard and, if he knew of anything Margaret was plotting, kept incredibly quiet about it. With Buckingham dead and everyone else in the conspiracy in exile or sanctuary (here’s looking at you, Woodville), Margaret was in danger, and all the king’s wrath was heading her way. Margaret's final marriage choice proved only more intelligent when it saved her from the charge of high treason. Richard favoured the support of Stanley more than the fact that Margaret was on the verge of taking him down. She was in trouble, also, for sending money to her son to aid in the rebellion against Richard, another treasonous act. She was sentenced to life in prison, and all her land and money were removed from her and given…to her husband (she essentially lost nothing). What’s more, she was imprisoned in her own house. Stanley was extremely lenient and allowed continued contact between her and her son. If there was any doubt of affection in their marriage, his actions regarding Margaret were sure to squash it. He proved even more loyal to her when he overheard Richard’s efforts to capture Henry (still in Brittany) and alerted Margaret, who ultimately warned Henry. He fled with only an hour to spare. In 1485, Margaret gained support from Elizabeth of York (Woodville and Edward’s daughter) and raised money for Henry, whilst Henry had the help of the French King Charles VIII and his men. Stanley remained a mere fly on the wall whilst his wife and stepson worked to take Richard down whilst Richard held Stanley’s son hostage to control Stanley’s support. Eventually, the two sides came to blows in the Battle of Bosworth. Until the very last minute, Stanley watched from afar as Richard, on foot, headed straight for Henry. At this moment, Stanley moved in…to support Henry. The crown, fallen from the beheaded Richard, was placed upon Henry by Stanley as he proclaimed the young Tudor, Henry VII, King of England. Margaret had done it. What was next for our Lady Kingmaker? After weeping joyfully at her son’s coronation and subsequent marriage, she took part in many political activities. After the Battle of Bosworth, her first role was to keep custody of Edward Plantagenet, 17th Earl of Warwick (Richard III and Edward IV’s nephew). He was a potential threat to Henry’s already weak claimant on the thrown, so keeping a close eye on him was important. Eventually, he was placed in the Tower of London, but this brief custody showed Henry's trust in his mother. Of course, her title also became ‘The King’s Mother’. She had the power to appoint the officers of lordship in Ware. She was given the wardships of her great nephews, Edward and Henry Stafford, who came with some excellent revenues for Margaret. At this point, Margaret also outranked her husband and essentially was allowed to act independently without her husband's approval- she was a widow without death. This fell under the attainder called ‘femme sole’, meaning alone woman, which was usually granted to women wanting to do business alone. This made sense if Margaret was of such high power. She also took a vow of chastity, continuing throughout and after her marriage to Stanley. It is believed there was affection between Margaret and Stanley during their marriage. To be seen as legally widowed and vowing to refrain from sex showed that despite historians’ beliefs that the two were affectionate, Margaret’s decision to marry Stanley was most likely primarily political. It worked. However, my interpretation is that her marriage probably was intimate and loving; otherwise, she would have taken the vow of chastity sooner. Consequent actions would not have taken place, either. In 1485 Margaret's signature changed from M. Richmond to Margaret R. Now, you could argue she was shortening Richmond to R, but I think we all know that the more likely case was to establish her ‘royalty’, so R in this case most likely stands for Regina (or ‘Queen’). (Interestingly, this refashioning of her name strongly resembles Cecily, Duke of York’s change to be known only as ‘The King’s Mother’ upon Edward IV’s earlier victory in The Cousin’s War, perhaps there is more to be considered about women's names and dynastic legitimacy?) Margaret was adamant about establishing her position and power. At her son’s wedding, her outfit was the same quality as that of the bride, Elizabeth of York. She also walked only half a pace behind her new daughter-in-law, which was usually custom at medieaval weddings. Still, it speaks volumes. The dynamic between Margaret and Elizabeth is incredibly typical of in-laws. Elizabeth showed her authority in simple ways, she had been raised the daughter of a king, afterall, a significant thing Elizabeth controlled was shopping for her children. Also, although one of Margaret’s granddaughters was named after her, which led to Margaret showing some favouritism towards her, Elizabeth proved her authority through little Margaret’s marriage to James IV, King of Scots, at Richmond Palace in 1502 in Elizabeth’s chamber. She even gave her away. Margaret was never in actual competition with her daughter-in-law. She grieved with her son when Elizabeth of York died, soon after giving birth to her last child, on her birthday, 11th of February 1503. She organised all the grieving and mourning procedures which helped keep her busy. She also saw Margaret off when she went to marry James IV in June of the same year. Death did not stay away for long, as Margaret’s spouse died in July 1504. Still, she remained busy and focused, keeping her mind off the grief for her husband of thirty-plus years. Her involvement in the Universities started in 1502 when she developed ‘The Lady Margaret’s Professor of Divinity’, which she initially established as a readership. Readerships are a position between senior lecturer and professor, acknowledging those with outstanding international recognition research. In 1505, Margaret also sponsored the re-establishment of Christ’s College, Cambridge (originally named God’s House), with a Royal Charter supplied by Henry. Earlier than this, in 1496, Margaret founded the lectureship in theology at Oxford College first but then at Cambridge soon after. Her money went into funding both universities throughout the later years of the 15th century and the early years of the 16th century. She had much influence at both universities and whilst Oxford was her first passion, she soon began to show favouritism to Cambridge. Her final project was her most gut-wrenching. Henry was sick by March of 1509 and did not have long left; he knew it, and so did everyone else. Margaret, his most humble supporter, was the only person he felt would uphold his wishes upon his death. She was responsible for organising the mourning procedures and was named chief executor of his Will. His death in April 1509 was the cruellest thing to have happened to Margaret during the trials and tribulations of her life. Whilst Margaret prepared for Henry VII to be buried with Elizabeth of York in his newly built Lady’s Chapel in Westminster Abbey, she had to help her grandson, Henry VIII, to the throne. He was seventeen and classed still as a minor. Margaret was to act as regent and take to being the head of government until the younger Henry was of age. Her motherly instincts had kicked in once more, and she did this of her own volition rather than the official position. Despite her failing health, her influence and abilities were recognised by others. Their faith in her allowed her to be the uncrowned queen she was. And it was very much deserved. Her own declining health had been known even before her son's death, and a Will of her own existed. She worked hard to set things up before she died and ensured that men surrounded Henry VIII, which was trustworthy and would benefit England and the King. Margaret never missed an opportunity for petty revenge. After causing a failed deal over a property with Margaret and becoming one of the most hated tax collectors in England, Edmund Dudley (along with Richard Empson) was arrested and executed under the encouragement of Margaret. Smells like some sweet justice. Henry VIII was officially crowned king and married his brother’s widow, Catherine of Aragon. Margaret watched this all unfold from afar. Eventually, she decided her final days must be at Westminster Abbey. She stayed at the abbot’s house (the house of the head of Westminster Abbey). She was physically closer to her son and safe in a place that played a large part in her life. Ironically, her predictions in her dying state were that her grandson would shy away from God, a fear that caused her to weep. And he does just this by defying the laws of the Catholic Church and creating his own! A scary coincidence or an astute observation? Who knows. It is said that Margaret passed on as the bishop lifted the host (the bread representing the body of Christ). This final representation of her enthusiasm for her faith was a fitting end for her. She was now with her beloved and only child and was buried alongside him in the Lady’s Chapel. Did death cease her power and title? Absolutely not. For one, in her Will, she referred to herself as Princess. She also left a large sum of £133, 6 shillings and 8 pence to the poor. This would be worth £88,800 today. She also wished many of her belongings to be separated between Christ’s College and College of St John for the foundations she had established in Cambridge. She was generous, and her self-proclaimed title as Princess or Regina was warranted. The ultimate Kingmaker and Mother. Sources and Further Reading: Brain, Jessica. (2021). Lady Margaret Beaufort. [Online]. Historic UK. Available at: https://www.historic-uk.com/HistoryUK/HistoryofEngland/Lady-Margaret-Beaufort/ Britain’s Bloody Crown. (2016). Episode 4. Channel 5, 28th January. Cooper, Charles. H. (1874). Memoir of Margaret (Beaufort), countess of Richmond and Derby. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Dean and Chapter of Westminster. (2023). History: Lady Chapel. [Online]. Westminster Abbey. Available at: https://www.westminster-abbey.org/about-the-abbey/history/lady-chapel Johnson, Ben. (2011). The Life of King Edward IV. [Online]. Historic UK. Available at: https://www.historic-uk.com/HistoryUK/HistoryofEngland/King-Edward-IV/ License, Amy. (2013). Elizabeth of York, the Forthcoming Biography: Interview with Amy Licence. [Online]. His Story, Her Story Blogspot. Available at: http://authorherstorianparent.blogspot.com/2013/02/elizabeth-of-york-forthcoming-biography.html Norton, Elizabeth. (2010). Margaret Beaufort: Mother of the Tudor Dynasty. Stroud: Amberley Publishing. Seward, Desmond (1995). The Wars of the Roses: And the Lives of Five Men and Women in the Fifteenth Century. London: Constable and Company Limited. Tallis, Nicola. (2019). Uncrowned Queen: The Fateful Life of Margaret Beaufort, Tudor Matriarch. London: Michael O'Mara.

How many couples do you know who have split up in the last year? Now, how many celebrity couples? What about divorces? Shortly after news broke that Taylor Swift and Joe Alwyn had split up after six years together, I saw a TikTok comment saying something to the effect of ‘surely, I can’t be the child of another divorce”. Despite never having engaged in Swifty content before, my For You Page was flooded with speculation of when the break-up album was dropping, or if Midnights was the break-up album? Let us not forget the separation of Phoebe Bridgers and Paul Mescal, followed in quick succession by theories of Mescal’s unrequited love for his Normal People co-star, Daisy Edgar Jones. Then, a couple of months later, Blake Shelton accidentally ‘hard launched’ Bridgers’ new relationship with comedian Bo Burnham while trying to film himself and his wife on Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour. My point is: break-ups, separations and crumbling relationships are an integral element of gossip culture. Everyone is guilty of trying to figure out if X is still following Y even though they deleted all their pictures together, or running to their mates to see if they know someone who knows someone who knows what went down. Where does this nosiness come from? Of course, we’ve known for a while (to say the least) that the media's approach to celebrity women, wives and mothers is vastly different to that of men (irrespective of whether or not they’re embroiled in some sort of separation drama.) In addition, we’ve also known that life imitates art and, accordingly, historical cultural attitudes surrounding break-up drama can be found in literature and theatrical works. Or, as I like to call it, ‘Leave Ur Man’ fiction. Before The Matrimonial Causes Act 1937, a divorce in the United Kingdom could only be granted on the grounds of adultery. A man could claim adultery with no questions asked, but a woman had to prove that her husband had been unfaithful. And in Norway - the setting of Henrik Ibsen’s Hedda Gabler and A Doll’s House - divorce law wasn’t liberalised until 1909 when it established a no-fault principle, therefore entitling wives to the same rights as their soon-to-be-ex-husbands. But that’s 1909. Let’s rewind thirty years to 1879, when A Doll’s House was first performed. If you’re not familiar with the play, the final act concludes with protagonist Nora Helmer becoming enlightened to the constraints of her dispassionate, insincere marriage to Torvald. She recalls passing from her father’s hands into Torvald’s, and how everything was arranged according to her husband’s taste. Nora is and has always been the titular ‘Doll,’ and she leaves the marital ‘doll’s house’ in search of herself outside of the patriarchal influence she’s always been subjected to. The ending caused significant outrage when it was performed across Europe. German adaptations went as far as rewriting the ending in 1880 (more on this later). However, Ibsen never outrightly described his work as feminist, instead attaching the label ‘humanist’. After all, a husband would surely not think twice about leaving his family and sham marriage, especially if his wife had berated him in the way Torvald Helmer berated his wife for making a crucial financial decision. The shift in tone between the Helmers’ marriage in act one and act three is unmissable: in Torvald’s eyes, Nora goes from being ‘[his] little lark’ and ‘[his] own sweet, little songbird’ to ‘wretched woman’. Paying closer attention to the change in language, we can see that Nora’s alleged wrongdoing - the ‘sin’ of disobeying her husband - presents an unintentional sense of agency. She is no longer ‘his little’ X, Y, or Z, she is a wretched woman in her own right. This doll that has been living in his house, mothering his children and sleeping in his bed is more conscious and clever than he could’ve ever imagined. And, just like that, ‘wretched woman’ becomes the highest of compliments. The play ends with Nora leaving the family home and her dispassionate marriage, as she should. At the time, The Social Demokraten newspaper had this to say: 'This play touches the lives of thousands of families; oh yes there are thousands of such doll-homes, where the husband treats his wife as a child he amuses himself with, and so that is what the wives become’, therefore acknowledging the naturalistic origins of the play and the obvious gender dynamic it seeks to criticise. However, 19th century European audiences weren’t as pleased with Nora’s girlbossery as I am. As mentioned, there was a German rewrite where an empowered Nora is disemboldened by the sight of her children and the realisation that she cannot abandon them. Ultimately, this is to naturalist theatre what Anna Todd’s After is to One Direction (its fanfiction!). It intends to keep any female audience-goers in their place by convincing them that leaving your patronising arsehole of your husband equates to completely abandoning your children. It's not the truth, has never been the truth, and the German rewrite by someone other than Ibsen is demonstrative of the societal priority of order over art. From my twenty-first century perspective (2001 babies rise up) I also don’t think the rewritten ending undermines the meaning of the play the way it intended to because it also takes a significant amount of maternal strength to stick out a sham marriage for the sake of your children. Don’t get me wrong, this is not me legitimising this version of the play. Ultimately, it highlights how, above all, nineteenth century men were afraid of the fallout Ibsen would catalyse by introducing a woman who took control of her own marital fate into the mainstream. Ibsen was doing what Britney Spears did when she wore that baby tee with ‘Dump Him’ on it: The structure and subject matter of A Doll’s House lends itself to some interesting staging concepts. Of course, it’s not a book, so you’re not meant to sit there, read it, think about it a bit, then put your copy back on the shelf (I’m hoping neither of my A Level English teachers see this). This is a play that demands to be staged, and I think these creative interpretations of A Doll’s House are spawned solely off the back of Nora’s character arc and nothing else. One performance I’m particularly intrigued by is the 2007 Mabou Mines adaptation with Mark Povinelli cast as Torvald and Maude Mitchell as Nora. It is conceptually brilliant: Lee Breuer casted the three-foot-nine Povinelli and builds the set to his proportions, meaning Maude Mitchell (Nora) is constantly squeezing into the set to explicate her growth and empowerment. Through this, you could argue that there’s a layer of physical comedy added to an otherwise serious play which demonstrates how much audiences have changed since the original A Doll’s House performances. If Ibsen or any director he’d been collaborating with at the time had introduced even an inkling of comedy or farce, the whole purpose of the play would have been undermined and ultimately rather done the job of that sad German rewrite. But, nonetheless, I do think this is an interesting interpretation and if everyone were to perform plays the same, they might as well just stay on the page. I want to quickly touch on the contrast between Nora Helmer and the ‘protagonist’ of another Ibsen play, Hedda Gabler in Hedda Gabler. Obviously, Hedda is the titular character, but the play’s title refers to her by her maiden name rather than her married one which severs her character into two definitive binaries - the married Hedda Tesman, and the singular, hedonistic, anti-hero Hedda Gabler. I guess, in some respects, you can look at Hedda as the alternative reality version of Nora if she had stayed in her marital dolls’ house. Hedda is stuck in a loveless marriage but damns the Angel of the House - she is nowhere close to the archetypal wife and mother figure we see kicking around in other nineteenth century work. A 1898 New York Times critic described her as ‘selfish, morbid, cruel, bitter, jealous, something of a visionary, something of a wanton, something of a lunatic’ (side note: put those last three on my headstone). Hedda is Nora, Nora is Hedda, and in the words of Khaled Hosseini, ‘Like a compass needle that points north, a man's accusing finger always finds a woman.’ Regarding the title choice, Ibsen himself said: 'My intention in giving it this name [Hedda Gabler, rather than Hedda Tesman] was to indicate that Hedda as a personality is to be regarded rather as her father's daughter than her husband's wife.’If you’re anything like me, your response to this is “cool, why’d you have to bring her dad into this?” I believe this is a key bit of evidence in the argument that Ibsen isn’t a feminist playwright, or even sympathetic to a feminist cause in his work. He is at best neutral. Yes, he puts women in the centre of his works more than other playwrights before and during his lifetime, but he brutalises them and flings them before a nineteenth century audience that wanted to criticise and bully women. So, here we are. Maybe Ibsen’s naturalist intentions were noble in depicting women with the agency to leave their husbands, or maybe he knew that with his words he would be turning his female characters (and, more importantly, those who resonated with them) over to the so-called morality mob. Is that not what happens every time the Daily Mail posts some he-said-she-said gossip about the latest celebrity breakup? Ibsen had a long way to go, and we shouldn’t get into the habit of applauding fish for swimming, but he crucially depicts Nora and Hedda taking one small step for women leaving their bad marriages, one giant leap for womankind in pre-1900s theatre.

Glossary Antiquarians - The predecessors to modern archaeologists; mostly collectors who maintain no scientific principles or in depth recording systems. Ancient DNA Analysis - The analysis of DNA taken from the bones of ancient human remains to provide details on sex determination. Inhumation - A standard burial with a body lying flat in a rectangular cut grave Sexing - The scientific act of analysing a skeleton and assigning it a binary sex based on bone morphology and characteristics. These are mostly found within the skull and the pelvis. Sex determination within archaeological human remains begins from the moment the grave is uncovered. Grave goods, clothing, burial orientation, and location can all influence the primary informal sex determination. Unfortunately in antiquarian days, the analysis often stopped there and no further work was undertaken to accurately determine sex. There are several key examples of female remains being misgendered, and it poses the question as to whether other powerful figures of the past were actually women, as well as how many other powerful women we are yet to discover. The term ‘sex’ is used in an archaeological setting as opposed to ‘gender’ due to the binary biological markers that are seen on the skeleton and within the DNA, although it is critical to understand that these factors cannot relate to how this person would have identified within themselves during their life. It is entirely feasible that these individuals were buried with these supposedly gendered honours due to them expressing their own gender identity in life that has then been respected by their peers. However, this cannot be seen through the remains and therefore, sex determination remains a binary undertaking. It is incredibly important for us as a modern audience to rethink archaeological sex determination based on informal characteristics such as grave goods. It is imperative that the social structures of the period in which the remains date is considered alongside formal scientific methods to ensure that we are correctly determining sex and providing these individuals with the respect that they deserve. The Birka Burial A detailed archaeological drawing of the Birka Burial to show how the grave would have looked before it was filled in with soil. This is often the most important view as it shows the modern viewers how her contemporaries wanted her to be seen in death. Uncovered in 1878 in Birka, Sweden, these were the remains of an exceptionally highly respected Viking warrior who was elaborately buried in a chamber tomb. These remains were considered to be of a male until new research was undertaken in 2017 (a shocking 139 years after her discovery) proved otherwise. This is especially poignant as during this stretch of time, over 50 papers were published corroborating this mistruth as no one thought or cared to look deeper into the facts. The misgendering of female remains is a critical issue as the lives of powerful women are being disregarded and new insights into the social and cultural structure of the past are being lost due to the modern prejudices and societal systems. The burial was furnished with a multitude of weapons, shields, a chariot, and two horses. She was also dressed in silks with silver threads - a burial of extremely high status. These factors led the primary archaeologist, Hjalmar Stolpe, to determine that the remains were male without any further tests or investigation. Modern conceptions of gender and what it means to be a man or a woman have heavily influenced this prognosis, a flaw that is seen in the reanalysis of many sites. This was not fully called into question until archaeologist Charlotte Hedenstierna-Jonson completed an analysis of the remains themselves and determined them to reveal heavily female characteristics. This was decisively proven in 2017 by Neil Price and his team when they undertook genetic testing. This reanalysis of the Birka Burial has allowed for female success and the idea of an elite female force, such as the Valkyrie, to be admitted as more than just historical fiction; it opens up the discussion for it being historical fact. The infamous Osberg boat burial in Norway also provides some insight into the ideas of women warriors with the tapestry found within the burial depicting female warriors with weapons and shields. Hierarchical systems have been taken from more modern times and transplanted onto the figures of the past, but these systems likely do not reflect the reality and intricacies of life in ancient times. Discovering high status female burials is imperative to understanding women’s history and the development of our modern social systems. The Kazakhstan Burials The Valkyrie are not the only women warriors of legend! The Amazonians are also a well known group of female warriors, however, there has never been any strong evidence found to support their existence… or has there? Recently, a burial area in Kazakhstan was uncovered that dates to the 6th-4th centuries BCE and contains the burials of several women warriors who were laid to rest with arrowheads, swords, daggers, and other militaristic goods. These burials are contemporary to the period it is presumed the Amazonians lived and were active. At an average height of 5 '6", these women were far taller than the average height for the period and were also stockier, lending some credence to the legend of elite female warriors. Interestingly, at least one of the remains shows signs of bowleggedness from horseback riding! Despite this being an incredible find that is revolutionising the way we consider ancient women, for some time these remains were considered to be males based on the first interpretation given from the grave goods analysis. It is imperative that archaeologists’ and historians' opinions on the sexual determination of remains are not influenced by a burial containing militaristic grave goods as a male determination is not always accurate. There is currently limited published work on this site, but hopefully as more work is released we will understand more about these enigmatic ‘Amazonian’ warriors. The Ivory Woman An artist's interpretation of the Ivory Woman and her tribe, where she is a wise figure who teaches those around her. Her beads and body paint show her to be a high status figure. New research (published 6th July 2023!) proved decisively that the highest status individual in Copper Age Iberia was in fact a woman, rather than a man as previously assumed! Archaeologists have determined through contextual markers including other graves, grave goods, and the surrounding archaeological sites, that no man in fact came anywhere close to her level of influence. Her burial was highly elaborate and contained ivory tusks, rock crystal daggers, and ostrich eggshells. To have a single inhumation burial that is so lavishly furnished in this period indicates that she was indeed an extremely high ranked individual. She is now referred to as the ‘incomparable’. At the time of her discovery, her remains were considered to have belonged to a young man between 18 and 25. The remains were marked out as such due to the high status burial, as well as the burial itself being a lone burial as opposed to the multiple burials that characterise the period and area. This new research is fascinating as the only other high status burials in the area of the same period are also all women. Due to this, researchers are calling for the reanalysis of the political and social structure of Copper Age Iberia and how women fit into this system. Modern conceptions of sex and gender are highly rigid and have misguided antiquarians and archaeologists in the past. This call for reanalysis may radically change the narrative that modern society has presented to us and allow for more stories from many different cultures to be told. The Problems with Sexual Determination There are many dangers to informal sex determination that is based on grave goods and perceived societal structure, and they are seen very clearly through the mistakes made at Birka and in Iberia. The misgendering of remains allows for the role of women in the past to be diminished and for the more modern patriarchal narrative of history to be far more prevalent than is likely to be true. It is critical that these burials be carefully examined to allow for the importance of women and the multifaceted role of sex-gender in ancient social systems to be observed. Sexual determination is based on a set of characteristics that are not always diagnostic and have to be interpreted from a selection of factors. Sex estimation is primarily undertaken by studying the morphology of the pelvis and the skull, and these are the bones that reveal the most definitive sexual characteristics. These determinations can nearly never be absolutely certain without additional DNA analysis. Ancient DNA analysis is a relatively new field of study, but it is critical that it develops and is used across more sites as it can decisively prove biological sex and provide further detail regarding lineages and the movement of peoples. Moreover, sexual determination of remains may also undermine a group or societies beliefs regarding gender and how it is expressed in each person. This is particularly pertinent in reference to some Native American burials, where certain tribes follow or followed a system of non-binary gender within their communities. Further historical anthropological work, as well as ethnographic work, should be undertaken to determine how early communities viewed and worked with sex-gender systems to allow for a high degree of cultural respect to be placed on all remains that are uncovered. Moreover, assigning these burials a biological gender may inhibit the living descendants' ability to honour their ancestors and also allows for the removal of traditional cultures and for the cisgender narrative to be the only narrative presented to the public. Further Reading: Blair, Z. (2022). ‘Hail, Ye Givers,’ Sex and Gender in the Viking Age: A Discussion of Sex and Gender in Birka 581 and the Oseberg Burial. University of Chicago. https://doi.org/10.6082/uchicago.4095 Cintas-Peña, M., Luciañez-Triviño, M., Montero Artús, R. et al. (2023) Amelogenin peptide analyses reveal female leadership in Copper Age Iberia (c. 2900–2650 BC). Sci Rep 13, 9594 https://doi.org/10.1038/s41598-023-36368-x Hedenstierna-Jonson, C. (2020) ‘Warrior identities in Viking-Age Scandinavia’, Vikings Across Boundaries, pp. 179–194. https://doi.org/10.4324/9780429346194-12 Price, N., Hedenstierna-Jonson, C., Zachrisson, T., Kjellström, A., Storå, J., Krzewińska, M., Günther, T., Sobrado, V., Jakobsson, M. and Götherström, A. (2019) “Viking warrior women? Reassessing Birka chamber grave Bj.581,” Antiquity. Cambridge University Press, 93(367), pp. 181–198. https://doi.org/10.15184/aqy.2018.258 Wilford, J.N. (1997). Ancient Graves Of Armed Women Hint at Amazons. The New York Times. [online] 25 Feb. Available at: https://www.nytimes.com/1997/02/25/science/ancient-graves-of-armed-women-hint-at-amazons.html [Accessed 15 Jul. 2023]. Yablonsky, L.T. (2010). New Excavations of the Early Nomadic Burial Ground at Filippovka (Southern Ural Region, Russia). American Journal of Archaeology, [online] 114(1), pp.129–143. Available at: https://www.jstor.org/stable/20627646

When historians mention European Renaissance literature, there are several names that get tossed into conversation without a second thought: Shakespeare, Petrarch, Castiglione, More, Celtic, Donne, Erasmus. This ‘elite’ club of, you guessed it, Dead White Men, easily pass historians' tests of true and legendary work. Making their way into the literary canon without question, this restrictive club has posed such a large problem that even gender historians have questioned whether women had a hand in early modern European culture. No historian’s argument is quite as famous as Joan Kelly’s 1977 essay, “Did Women have a Renaissance?” Kelly, one of the pioneering forces in gender history, argues that European women did not have a cultural Renaissance. Kelly posits the structures of Renaissance society initiated a more organised and centralised patriarchal government and culture that kept women more constrained to the home than ever before, consequently making it impossible for women to develop a public voice. But the Renaissance was a long period, stretching from the fourteenth-seventeenth century, some 400 years of incredible cultural production. It would be rewriting history (something men have always done quite well) to deny that across this stretch of time no women wrote or published. And indeed, the list of women writing during this period could form a canon of its own. To say nothing of the women who funded and supported the production of the books’ historians pour over in archives today, or the women whose homes, courts, and letters supported the work of the great corpus of Dead White Men, an oversight that ignores the material support individuals provided that allowed book production to occur. This article looks to recover the work of literary women during the Renaissance, putting to rest Kelly’s thesis and showing the force of women in Renaissance literary culture. Women who Wrote Despite the overwhelming focus on the Dead White Men’s Club in Renaissance scholarship, a substantial number of women wrote during the Renaissance period. The list is long enough to form its own elite club: Theresa D’Avilla, Caritas Pirckheimer, Christine de Pizan, Maria de Zayas e Sotomayor, Margaret Cavendish, Marguerite de Navarre, Dona Valentina de Pinelo, and Louise Labé, just to name a few. It is important to note that this group of women were elite in their own right. Literacy was still restricted to those who could afford to pay the immense costs of education, meaning most men and women who worked as labourers, journeymen, and peasants could not read or write. Restrictions on literacy were even more intense for women, and the authors of the period were nearly all of wealthy or noble backgrounds. It is this privilege, alongside their literary capabilities, that allowed their names to grace title pages. Kelly’s work does acknowledge some of these women, but she immediately discounts their work as simply parroting the styles and ideas of male authors. Kelly argues that women could only be considered as having their own Renaissance if they used literature to assert a cohesive feminine viewpoint and voice that differentiated from male writers. Throughout the 1970s when Kelly wrote, the existence of some universal feminine viewpoint was already being problematised within feminist movements. Arguments like Kelly’s, proposing that women shared universal concerns, often saw the experiences of women with the most power in a society, namely white, cis, straight, middle-class women, dominate discussions of the problems facing all women. Thus, the specific issues faced by women of colour, queer women, poor women, disabled women, etc. were disregarded as legitimate feminist concerns. If a universal feminine viewpoint does not exist today, how can we expect one to have existed during the Renaissance? Like women writing today, the women of the Renaissance wrote for numerous different reasons and from varied social positions. Thus, the topic and concerns they addressed in their writings equally varied. We cannot expect the writings of someone like Marguerite de Navarre, a princess and sister to the King of France, to echo the concerns of the daughter of a German lawyer, nun and poet Caritas Pirckheimer. So, it makes sense that reading across the writings of Renaissance women, a range of feminine voices emerge, each with differing concerns and focuses. Comparing the literary careers of Christine de Pizan and Margaret Cavendish gives us insight into the variety of women's writing that existed across the Renaissance period. Christine de Pizan was born in Venice in 1364, but as a child her family relocated to France when her father took a position as the French king Charles V’s physician. As a young teenager, Christine’s Father married her to a French nobleman, and she soon started a family of her own. But her husband died shortly after, leaving Christine in tough financial straits. Most women in her position would have remarried to secure financial stability, but Christine had another idea. Christine’s position in society granted her the good fortune of receiving a rigorous Italian humanist education as well as access to well-connected patrons within the French royal court. She soon set herself up as a court writer, securing the patronage of powerful men such as the Duke of Burgundy. This patronage was central to her success. An author’s career in this period was reliant on their ability to continually secure patronage from powerful men and women who could fund their work. In fact, Christine was one of the first women in the Renaissance to make a living off her writing, which was something even male authors struggled to successfully accomplish. ‘Thus, not all men (and especially the wisest) share the opinion that it is bad for women to be educated. But it is very true that many foolish men have claimed this because it displeased them that women knew more than they did. Your father, who was a great scientist and philosopher, did not believe that women were worth less by knowing science; rather, as you know, he took great pleasure from seeing your inclination to learning’…And Christine, replied to all of this, ‘Indeed, my lady, what you say is as true as the Lord's Prayer.’” (Book of the City of Ladies) This is perhaps even more impressive when considering the time in which Christine was writing. Christine was living through a period of political upheaval in France, writing towards the end of the Hundred Year War with England. This required her to play a careful political game to ensure continuing support for her literary endeavours while French court politics were in near constant upheaval. Nevertheless, she wrote prolifically and in a variety of genres – from the love poetry popular at the time to moral and historic works, even gaining a commission to write the official history of the reign of Charles V after his death. However, Christine’s most famous work amongst historians is her Book of the City of Ladies where she detailed women from history and religion who refuted the stereotypes of unvirtuous women. This work's specific focus on and defense of women has fascinated historians and stands to challenge Kelly’s thesis that female authors were not voicing feminine concerns, even if these concerns were not universal or do not mirror our feminist concerns today. Margaret Cavendish, on the other hand, had quite a different literary career. Born around 1623 in Colchester, England to a wealthy gentleman, Margaret spent her early life splitting time between the countryside and London. Eventually, her family secured her a place as a maid of honour in the court of the Queen of England, Henrietta Maria. Shortly after her appointment, she followed the Queen into exile in Paris at the start of the English Civil War. It was there that she would meet the widowed William Cavendish, Marquess of Newcastle-upon-Tyne, another royal supporter. The two would marry in 1645, having to fight for their love as the Queen and key courtiers opposed the match. They settled in Antwerp until the end of the Civil War and the restoration of Charles II to the throne in 1660, at which point the pair moved back to England. There, they settled in London for a short time before retiring to the countryside. Margaret wrote extensively throughout her married life, publishing poems, plays, biographies, including her own autobiography, and academic treatises. She wrote the first known utopian novel written by a woman, published her own atomic scientific theories, and produced astute political analysis of the English Civil War in her biographical work. Her utopian novel, The Description of a New World, Called the Blazing-World is particularly interesting as it sees a female heroine travel to and become the ruler of a Utopian world. Her heroine was intelligent, learned, and respected to the point of reverence by the ‘men’ of this new world - a utopian vision for the time indeed! No sooner was the Lady brought before the Emperor, but he conceived her to be some goddess, and offered to worship her; which she refused, telling him, (for by that time she had pretty well learned their language) that although she came out of another world, yet was she but a mortal; at which the Emperor rejoicing, made her his wife, and gave her an absolute power to rule and govern all that world as she pleased. But her subjects, who could hardly be persuaded to believe her mortal, tendered her all the veneration and worship due to a deity. (The Description of a New World, Called the Blazing-World) Her husband was equally literary, writing plays and biographies of his own. Many of these works are now believed to have been co-authored by Margaret. By all accounts, the two had quite a pleasant marriage bonded by their intellectual and literary pursuits with Cavendish granting Margaret the freedom to live quite an eccentric lifestyle. She was known for cross-dressing, wearing men’s vests and pants rather than elaborate gowns, though she had a penchant for beautiful dresses as well. She managed her own jointure, the land and money granted to her by her family on her marriage, and was nearly always financially secure throughout her life. The incredible privilege into which Margaret was born gave her a freedom to read and write at her leisure that was not available to the majority of European women in this period. Her status, wealth, and position gave her a unique freedom in her literary pursuits, and the range of work she left behind, often in contradiction to major theories of the time, reflects this. Both Christine and Margaret’s works were shaped by the circumstances of their life and times. They were influenced by the outcomes of their marriages, their positions within political and social structures, the wars that dominated their lives, their religious leanings, and their financial situations. Both authors were subject to the popular tropes and topics that dominated the intellectual worlds they existed within, as were most authors who were searching for success. Margaret had more freedom in her work than Christine, being less reliant on patronage and having more protection under her well-connected and doting husband. The voices that emerge in their works are differentiated by some 300 years between their publications, their different places in the world, and the different concerns that dominated their lives. Regardless, both women clearly left their mark on the literary, intellectual, and political worlds in which they existed, and to write them out of the Renaissance for not speaking in one voice is an oversight that cannot be repeated any longer. Women who Read Authors were not the only women who influenced Renaissance literature. While Kelly’s work on Renaissance literary culture focuses almost solely on the thought produced in writing, the only reason historians today can access that thought is because it was recorded in material books. Book production during the Renaissance period was much more exclusive than today. Authors were not paid for their writing; instead, they made money and sustained their literary careers either by self-funding their work or by securing patrons, as Christine de Pizan did. Patronage was so important as books were still quite expensive to produce during the Renaissance, and most could not afford to pay for production themselves. Further powerful and well-connected patrons could be vital in ensuring the success and popularity of a work by publicly supporting the book. These patrons were essential in ensuring books were produced throughout this period, and they often had a say in shaping the topics and language of the writing. Even when patrons did not directly dictate the substance of literary work, authors often tailored their products to their patron’s taste to ensure their continued support. A point that Kelly fails to acknowledge in her work on the Renaissance is that wealthy women patronised literary work just as wealthy men did. Work by historians like Helen Smith and Laura Lunger Knoppers have countered Kelly by attending to this oversight, unpicking the complexities of Renaissance book production to illustrate wealthy women were equally essential in the publication and production of Renaissance literature. Additionally, patronesses were much more likely to request works in their native languages such as French or English rather than in Latin, the dominant language used by intellectual and political elites until the end of the Renaissance period. Men saw it as a pointless exercise to teach women Latin because they were not the ones involved in high politics or in the intellectual pursuits within universities. While some wealthy women during this period were taught to read, they were largely only taught their native tongue. During the Renaissance period many translations of Latin texts, originally patronised by men, were commissioned by patronesses. This is so important because one of the major literary developments of the period was the growth of writing in native languages. Wealthy women patronising literary works were a part of this trend and contributed to the expansion of work in English, Italian, French, and German. Without their funding, it is unlikely we would have seen the same expansion of these languages during this period. One such patroness was Elizabeth Parr, the sister-in-law of Henry VIII’s final queen, Katherine Parr. Katherine’s brother, William Parr started his political career as the Baron Parr and rose to become the Marquess of Northampton. William had a disastrous first marriage to Anne Bourchier in which Anne left William and eloped with another man. Eventually, William started an affair with Elizabeth Brookes, the daughter of the Baron of Cobham, sometime in 1543 shortly before his sister became Queen. The two continued their affair throughout the rest of his sister and Henry’s reign, eventually marrying in secret in 1547, just after William was named the Marquess of Northampton. The protectorate government of King Edward VI recognized the match as legal in 1551, making Elizabeth the official wife of William after much contentious debate. However, Elizabeth had a hard time gaining recognition of her new position from the rest of the court. So, following in the steps of her husband, who was known to be a great patron of the arts, especially in music and an author himself, she started patronising literary work. Such patronage would have helped Elizabeth establish herself as a cultured and serious lady of court despite her scandalous secret marriage. She patronised the first of these works in the same year that her marriage was officially recognized. One was an English translation of a portion of Baldassare Castiglione’s Book of the Courtier that particularly focused on the good conduct of courtly women. Castiglione’s work was the Renaissance guidebook for proper court behaviour, and an extremely popular text at the time of Parr’s commission. Parr’s patronage was important as it once again aided the expansion of the English language’s literary use and additionally created an extended cultural dialogue around Castiglione’s text. As translations often involved interpretation and commentary on the part of the author, Elizabeth Parr’s patronage illustrates clearly that women were impacting Renaissance culture, expanding native languages, and creating extended discussions in their commissioning and patronage of translations. Women who Renaissanced One of the defining features of literary and scholarly communities during the Renaissance were literary circles and discussion groups which were vital to literary production. Women often participated in and even spearheaded this process throughout the period. Work written in the form of conversation between multiple parties, known as dialogic literature, was exceedingly popular during the Renaissance, and historians have started to understand that this genre reflected the world of intellectual and literary thought happening at the time. The majority of Renaissance literature was not developed alone, but was written or discussed in literary circles, either in person or through letters. Indeed, communal authorship was quite common in the period, such as the manuscripts of love poetry that circulated around the court of Henry VIII with different courtiers adding their sonnets and rhymes to the book before passing it along for others to respond or add to their work. Equally, authors often interacted in court circles hosted by both male and female courtiers and rulers, and, by the end of the period, salons or special gatherings for discussing intellectual thought became popular, especially in France. These salons were almost universally run and operated by women. The first known salon in Paris was overseen by Madame Rambouillet in the late 17th century. While Kelly overlooks the role of discussion and communal authorship to Renaissance literature, a focus on this type of production makes it evident that women were involved in and even organised the communities producing literary work during the Renaissance. Elisabetta Gonzaga, the duchess of Urbino, was one woman who had a defining role in Italian literary circles. Elisabetta was born in 1471 to the Duke and Duchess of Mantua where her father funded her extensive education. In 1488, she married Guidobaldo da Montefeltro, the Duke of Urbino. At their court, Elisabetta brought numerous authors and artists together under her patronage, often hosting grand literary and cultural gatherings and discussion circles. Perhaps the most famous author who came to live at her court was Baldassare Castiglione, the aformentioned author of The Book of the Courtier. In this work, Elisabetta is held up as the model Duchess, everything a perfect female courtier should be. Castiglione depicts Elisabetta’s real life literary gatherings in his work, showing her guiding discussions by setting the topics of conversation which illustrated how she not only impacted the Renaissance literary world by drawing great minds together, but by also directing those minds towards certain tasks and topics. Kelly herself acknowledges the role of Elisabetta in inspiring Castiglione’s work, but writes her off immediately as weak and compliant to the patriarchal rules of the time as nothing but an ornament to the court of her husband. She also sees no importance in Elisabetta’s direction of discussion because she supposedly contributed no thought herself. However, no thought would have occurred at all if not for Elisabetta creating a safe and well-funded haven for authors to gather. Further, the thought that was produced was done at Elisabetta’s direction, giving her great authority over the topics that would make their way into Renaissance literature. To write off the role of Elisabetta so easily is to undercut her central role in the world of Italian Renaissance thought and her influence over one of the most popular and influential texts of the period. By now it may seem silly to pose the question again – did women have a Renaissance? Not only did women have a Renaissance where they produced their own work and thought from a variety of viewpoints, but the Renaissance – and its male canon as it is popularly remembered today — would not exist without the patronage and backing of noble women and female courtiers who funded and supported the intellectual work of famous male authors. Ignoring the role of women in the Renaissance means telling only half the story of some 400 years of history. We need to account for the role women played in shaping, producing, and funding the intellectual thought that came to define the Renaissance as such a unique cultural period in Europe. We need to write women back into the period because women did write, read, and Renaissance. *It is important to note that there is historical debate over the term Renaissance, the exact period the term covers, and if such periodization even fits with the historical record. Additionally, this period of Renaissance is one that does not unproblematically extend outside of a European context. Further reading Adams, Tracy. 2018. "Christine De Pizan." French Studies LXXI (3): 388-400. Brenesmeyer, Ingo. 2019. "Introduction." In Handbook of English Renaissance Literature, by Ingo Brenesmeyer, 1-24. Berlin and Boston: De Gruyter. Campbell, Julie. 2018. Literary Circles and Gender in Early Modern Europe: A Cross-Cultural Approach. Abingdon: Routledge. n.d. Christine de Pizan and Establishing Female Literary Authority. Accessed July 14, 2023. http://employees.oneonta.edu/farberas/arth/arth214_folder/christine.html. Clarke, Danielle. 2000. "Introduction." In 'This Double Voice': Gendering Writing in Early Modern England, by Danielle Clarke and Elizabeth Clarke, 1-15. Houndsmill, Basingstoke, Hampshire, London, and New York City: St. Martin's Press. Crawford, Julie. 2014. Mediatrix: Women, Politics, and Literary Production in Early Modern England. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Fitzmaurice, James. 2004. "Cavendish [née Lucas], Margaret, Duchess of Newcastle upon Tyne." Oxford Dictionary of National Biography. September 23. Accessed July 14, 2023. https://www.oxforddnb.com/display/10.1093/ref:odnb/9780198614128.001.0001/odnb-9780198614128-e-4940?rskey=J2qjNt&result=3. Heitsch, Dorothea, and Jean-Francois Vallée. 2004. "Foreward." In The Renaissance Culture of Dialogue, by Dorothea Heitsch and Jean-Francois Vallée, ix-xxiii. Toronto: University of Toronto Press. James, Susan E. 2008. "Parr, William, Marquess of Northampton." Oxford Dictionary of National Biography. May 24. Accessed July 14, 2023. https://www.oxforddnb.com/display/10.1093/ref:odnb/9780198614128.001.0001/odnb-9780198614128-e-21405?rskey=lNsdTv&result=5. Kelly, Joan. 1984. "Did Women Have a Renaissance?" In Women, History & Theory, by Joan Kelly, 19-50. Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press. Robin, Diana. 2013. "Intellectual Women in Early Modern Europe." In The Ashgate Research Companion to Women and Gender in Early Modern Europe, by Jane Couchman, Katherine A. McIver and Allyson M. Poska, 381-406. London and New York City: Ashgate. Smith, Helen. 2012. 'Grossly Material Things': Women and Book Production in Early Modern England. Oxford and New York City: Oxford University Press. Walters, Lori J. 2005. "Christine de Pizan, France's Memorialist: Persona, Performance, Memory." Journal of European Studies 35 (1): 29-45.

Check out what our team have been reading, watching and listening to in July! Meg's been listening to: Bullets & Opium: Real life stories of China after the Tiananman Square Massacre by Liao Yiwu Audiobook Book Mayu's been watching: Grave of the Fireflies - free English dubbed version Mayu's been listening to: Lesbian Historic Motif Podcast (Spotify) Amy's been listening to: Queens of England Podcast (Spotify) Amy's been watching: What’s Love got to do with it? (Tina Turner biopic) Jillian's been watching: Battle of the Sexes Verity's been reading: Unwell Women by Elinor Cleghorn Abby's been reading: JOAN by Katherine J. Chen Cecily by Annie Garthwaite

Easily one of the most overlooked artists of the 20th century, Sister Rosetta Tharpe paved the way for rock-n-roll artists long before rock-n-roll was a concept. Not only was she one of the first women to play the electric guitar, but she was one of the earliest rock stars who paved the way for the whole genre. She was using voice growl distortions and doing dramatic guitar performances when Elvis was just a toddler, yet for a long time she was overlooked in the conversations of rock-n-roll pioneers. Sister Rosetta Tharpe has openly been referenced as inspiration by so many icons, from Little Richard who openly raved about her performance changing his life to Beyoncé name dropping her in her song ‘Break my Soul - The Queen’s Mix’. So why is one of the founders of the genre, who inspired globally renowned artists not equally famous in the public’s memory? Let’s look at sister Rosetta Tharpe, the queer black trailblazer who pioneered the rock-n-roll revolution decades before any men came into the scene. (To best understand and connect with her sound, here’s a Spotify playlist: beginners guide to Sister Rosetta Tharpe!) Born March 20th, 1915, Rosetta Tharpe (born Rosetta Nubin) was born in Cotton Plant, Arkansas. While both her parents were cotton pickers, her mother was both a preacher and a singer in the Church of God in Christ. At the time, black women preachers were practically unheard of, so we can thank this level of exposure to music and gospel to heavily influencing Tharpe so deeply. From a young age, she was extremely gifted at music, singing and playing guitar by age four. By six years old, she was already playing under the stage name Little Rosetta Nubin. She joined her mother in a traveling evangelical group across the American South, becoming well known among the southern gospel community where they travelled. After traveling, they settled in Chicago. This is where she developed her style of music, fusing blues, jazz and gospel music to create her distinct sound. Not only was she one of the few black woman guitarists, but her use of distortion on the guitar was ground-breaking and surprised audiences wherever she played. At 19, she married Thomas Tharpe, a preacher from the church she grew up in. While the marriage didn’t last, she adopted her husband’s surname as her stage name and ultimately created her name as we know it now, ‘Sister Rosetta Tharpe’. Her strong and distinctive voice and guitar playing paired with her electric guitar made for extremely unconventional gospel music, which both attracted certain crowds and isolated others. By 1938, she performed at the historic Cotton Club Revue, which had seen the likes of Duke Ellington and Louis Armstrong. For most of the white audience members, her performance was the first time seeing a black woman perform, let alone perform her genre bending guitar routines. She released her first single ’Rock Me’ at 23, which fused gospel with rock’n’roll rhythms and tempos. Her first single made her a commercial success and she became one of the first commercially successful gospel singers. Not only was being a female guitarist in a male dominated industry, being a black woman in a predominately white industry was extremely difficult, and she had to fight nonstop to reach the level of fame that she achieved. Tharpe performed a couple of times with the Jordanaires in the early 1940s, where she had to deal with institutional segregation and racism while traveling from city to city. On tour, hotels would refuse her entrance, so Tharpe would have to sleep on buses. Restaurants didn’t allow her to eat inside so she would go to the back end of the restaurant to eat outside while performing to mixed audiences. Institutionalized racism wasn’t the only hardship she endured. Her approach to gospel music was very unconventional at the time, combining religious and secular music styles to make her own sound. Her music was a fusion of gospel and rock n roll, and this translated into her guitar style, but also her lyrics. Her first single “Rock Me” openly praised her love and sexuality, which left gospel audiences to feel scandalized by her music. In the chorus, she sings, “You hold me in the bosom/Till the storms of life is over/Rock me in the cradle of our love/Only feed me till I want no more”. The chorus can be both interpreted as a reference to a lover or to her religion. Even though it seems tame by our standards, the double entendre in the lyrics was quite scandalous for the gospel community, and new for the secular community, making the marriage between the two in her lyrics radical. Her most famous song “Strange Things Happening Everyday”, had references to historic moments of the 1940s, from the end of WW2 to Jackie Robinson becoming the first black MLB player. In this song, she seamlessly translated the experience of living in the 1940s into her music, which made her especially popular among black WW2 soldiers. This song became the first gospel song to reach the mainstream charts. Sister Rosetta Tharpe continued being true to herself through her music and personal expression, never changing her sounds or her persona to accommodate mainstream music at the time, or the expectations of her as a black gospel singer, which can and should be seen as revolutionary. Sister Rosetta Tharpe was openly bisexual within the music industry in the 1940s, when bisexuality was seen as a cardinal sin, especially within the gospel community. While her music always had a gospel core, many of her songs were an open praise to her sexuality. In 1946, Sister Rosetta Tharpe saw Marie Knight perform at a concert in New York, and two weeks later began performing together on tour. The duo would perform together until 1950 as the two became creative and romantic partners. Several biographical accounts described how they didn't hide their sexuality from people except their audience, and that their relationship was an open secret within the music industry. Unfortunately, their rumoured relationship was a big topic discussed among gospel circles with no confirmation due to attitudes towards the LGBTQ+ community at the time, but now we can look back and praise her for her unabashed queerness in and outside her music. Not many people highlight her bisexual identity as a part of her legacy, but it's central to her personal musical evolution and the larger evolution of the rock genre. With the decline of gospel music and the rise of predominantly white male rock genre, her popularity began to wane. Sister Rosetta Tharpe still performed to loyal niche audiences, specifically with British audiences, where she had a mini resurgence in her career after touring with black Blues icons around England until she tragically passed away at 53 years old in 1973 from a stroke and was buried in Philadelphia. Sister Rosetta Tharpe’s legacy is such an important one in the context of music history, but only in recent years has she been receiving her deserved accolades for effectively being the first gospel and rock star. Her guitar techniques alone inspired Chuck Berry and Elvis Presley’s guitar styles. Johnny Cash even cited her as one of his earliest heroes at his rock-n-roll induction speech. She inspired a whole host of legendary musical icons outside of rock-n-roll, with Aretha Franklin and Tina Turner citing her as a key vocal and performance influence. You’d expect someone as monumental to have a biopic, or books written about them. Even though she was one of the biggest gospel stars and had gospel and rock legends several rock legends praise her, her grave was unmarked for over thirty years. The most recognition she had received until the early 2000s was a 32 cent commemorative US postal service stamp (which is not the flex they thought it was) in 1998. In 2007, she was inducted into the Blues Hall of Fame, which started a gentle revival of her name and legacy. Over the years, news publications would from time to time do a short special on her, but it wasn’t until 2018 that she would be recognized for her early influence in rock-n-roll. Sister Rosetta Tharpe was finally inducted in the rock-n-roll Hall of Fame in May 2018, which was celebrated with several tribute performances performed by talented black artists, like Felicia Collins and Questlove. Sister Rosetta Tharpe even had a short appearance in the recent Elvis biopic, which may not be entirely the accolades she deserves, but is a start to the flowers and accolades that this queer black icon deserves. Further Reading: Diaz-Hurtado, Jessica. ‘Forebears: Sister Rosetta Tharpe, The Godmother of Rock “N” Roll’. NPR, 24 August 2017, sec. Music. https://www.npr.org/2017/08/24/544226085/forebears-sister-rosetta-tharpe-the-god mother-of-rock-n-roll. Accessed 07/07/2023 Hermes, Will. ‘Why Sister Rosetta Tharpe Belongs in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame’. Rolling Stone (blog), 13 December 2017. https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-features/why-sister-rosetta-tharpe-belong s-in-the-rock-and-roll-hall-of-fame-123738/. Accessed 07/07/2023 https://www.facebook.com/erin.elyse9. ‘Queer, Black & Blue: Sister Rosetta Tharpe Is Muva of Them All’. AFROPUNK, 7 March 2019. https://afropunk.com/2019/03/rosetta-tharpe/. Accessed 07/07/2023 ✂️ Johnny Cash Cites Sister Rosetta Tharpe as His Earliest Hero. Accessed 23 July 2023. https://www.youtube.com/clip/Ugkxz6lLQRNCRioARVhyDTuplb3k9-0C6QZP. Sister Rosetta Tharpe. Rock Me. Lonesome Road, 1938. Wald, Gayle. Shout, Sister, Shout! The Untold Story of Rock-and-Roll Trailblazer Sister Rosetta Tharpe. Boston: Beacon Press, 2007. Accessed 07/07/2023

The Ladies of Llangollen, Anne Lister, Anna Seward, and the problem of "Modern History's First Lesbians" Lesbians, sapphics, tribades, lesbi-gays, dykes, clitorist, beanflicker, Amy-John, clam smacker, scissor sister, invert. There’s plenty of names for women who love women, but what is our history, and who was the first lezza? Historical Sapphism Some historians believe that prior to the twentieth century there was simply no such thing as female homoeroticism, even arguing that women prior to this century couldn’t experience ‘lesbianism’ or lesbian sex because such concepts were invented by sexologists in the late nineteenth century. It’s laughable, and a brief look into the history books tell us quite opposite. In an article published in 2017, Anna Clark discusses historic sapphic subcultures among dancers and prostitutes, especially in metropolitan Paris in the early eighteenth-century. (Of course it's Paris.) Additionally, recent study of ‘deviant’ sexualities in European courts have explored Christina of Sweden’s affairs with women, notably Ebba Spare, as well as Marie Antoinette’s ‘lesbian’ sexual exploits which were the subject of several pamphlets during the French Revolution. Furthermore, in her 1789 denunciation, Hester Thrale Piozzi described Marie Antoinette as “the Head of a Set of Monsters call’d by each other Sapphists” Used liberally in this article and by this historian generally, the terms 'Sapphic', and ‘Sapphist’ were understood to be insults relating to female homoeroticism based on the comprehension that the Ancient Greek poet Sappho had sexual and romantic relationships with women as early as the fifteenth century. Sappho is also where we get the term ‘lesbian’, as this was the term for people from the Isle of Lesbos, where she lived. This terminology is evidenced as early as the fifteenth century. Furthermore, Rebecca Jennings’ A Lesbian History of Britain: Love and Sex Between Women Since 1500, provides a valuable discussion of evidence of female homoeroticism throughout ancient, medieval and early modern history in medical texts, literature, visual art and travel journals. In fact, female sexual gratification during the fourteenth - seventeenth centuries was thought to be fundamental to conception and to curing symptoms of female hysteria; if a husband was thought to be incapable of administering an orgasm, it was expected that a midwife would do so. Thus, female ‘administered’ sexual gratification was well established. A lack of awareness may be attributable to a lack of legal jurisdiction regarding female homoeroticism in comparison to strict laws and punishments for male homoeroticism throughout the centuries. Phallic-free sex couldn’t really be comprehended in strictly patriarchal societies, so even when and where there were laws regarding ‘lesbianism’, they were based on the use of ‘tools’ which weren’t a real penis in intercourse with women. For example, women in the fifteenth and sixteenth century in the Southern Netherlands faced strict prosecution for the crime of sodomy. These facts did little to disprove dominant historiography concerning female homoeroticism (or rather lack thereof) in historical study until the publication of Anne Lister’s explicit sexual exploits in the 1980s. Emma Donoghue has described these texts as the 'Dead Sea Scrolls of lesbian history’ for their incomparable impact in proving female homoeroticism prior to the twentieth century. Since the rediscovery and decoding of her diaries, Anne Lister has become a sapphic icon comparable to Sappho herself. Her apparent singularity in her efforts to live freely in matrimony with another woman has elicited a wealth of historical and cultural media attention. Most recently, she has dominated BBC ratings in the series ‘Gentleman Jack’, named for Lister’s malicious nickname among Halifax residents for the way she appeared ‘like a man’ according to her dress and engagement in business. The show is well worth a watch, and has been developed according to the 26 volumes that Lister wrote, specifically focussing on the last eight years of her life, when she decided to settle down and ‘marry’. There are inaccuracies, and several liberties taken with costume (she didn’t wear a tall hat, for example), and her height, but the changes are not particularly important to the narrative of the show, nor how we remember her. (This isn’t a historical-fiction article, so no more comments about the accuracy of dress, I promise.) The first series depicts Lister's determined mission to court and marry the much younger and often bewildered local heiress, Ann Walker. The final episode of the first series depicts the pair ‘marrying’ at the Holy Trinity Church in York on Easter Sunday, 1834. Series two follows their ‘marriage’ and Lister pushing Walker into making Lister a large beneficiary of her estate, something Lister had previously done for the 'love of her life' Mariana Lawton (née Belcombe). These events, depicted in remarkable accuracy support a popular belief that Lister was the first modern lesbian, and her ‘marriage’ to Walker unique. However, we know for a fact that female homoeroticism was not invented by this dashing sapphic in the eighteenth century, and if you cast your eye slightly broader, even the idea of marriage to another woman was not her own. (Shockingly, lesbians have always been trying to move in with each other and live their lives together.) Lister has had an undeniable impact on Sapphic history, yet her popular legacy as ‘Modern History’s first Lesbian’ is ridiculously unfair. For starters, the term lesbian, although used throughout this article, isn’t really one that we can use as the term was not popularly known or used, certainly not by the women we are discussing. Secondly, Anne Lister was not the only woman to fancy other women, otherwise she wouldn’t have found anyone to shag. And finally, if Anne Lister had to give an opinion on the subject, she would likely argue that she was 'Modern History’s First Lesbian', after the Ladies of Llangollen. Lady Eleanor Butler and Miss Sarah Ponsonby In July 1822, Anne Lister, along with her aunt, the elder Anne Lister, embarked on a long-awaited tour of North Wales, the shining moment of which was a stay in the Vale of Llangollen and two visits to a Tudor Style Cottage named Plas-Newydd. Meaning New-House’, Plas-Newydd was the home to the Anglo-Irish gentlewomen Lady Eleanor Butler and Miss Sarah Ponsonby. This pair of women were significant because they had done something completely out of the ordinary for eighteenth-century women, they had run away, and set up their own home, completely cutting ties with their families. Now that’s a simplified summary of events, so let’s go into more detail. Ponsonby and Butler met in around 1776, Butler was already a spinster (she was in her 30s, scandalous!), and Ponsonby, an eighteen-year-old. They would meet for tutoring, long walks and deep conversations, when Butler travelled, they sent rambling letters, telling how much they missed the other. It became clear quite quickly, that the pair were completely obsessed with each other. (Typical.) In April 1778, discovering that Ponsonby’s family were discussing her marriage, they decided to sneak out from their respective homes in Kilkenny and escape to Wales, where Butler had found a discrete cottage for their elopement. The first escape effort failed, and they were both imprisoned in their homes, until Butler, learning that she was to be packed off to a convent, escaped, and managed to get into Ponsonby’s chambers, where she hid for several days whilst the families debated what to do with their unruly girls. Eventually, on the 6th May, they were allowed to leave, with Ponsonby’s trusted maid, on the premise that they would not take any income from their families, nor return to Kilkenny. (Such a hardship…) So, Butler and Ponsonby ran off to Wales, eloping in ‘exquisite retirement’. They found a home in Llangollen and spent their days engaging in literary scholarship and lengthy walks around the Welsh hills, and their evenings in the same bed. They became a site of fascination for society, their ‘romantic friendship’ as it was known, thought of as an exquisite form of platonic love. Even Queen Charlotte (yes that one) adored them, and the Ladies engaged with her by sending a plan of their home and gardens. They welcomed a constant stream of visitors there to view the extensive literary collection, and the spectacle of the ladies themselves. These visitors included Anna Seward, who we will discuss in a moment, William Wordsworth, and even Lord Byron. Lister’s intrigue with these ‘Ladies of Llangollen’ as they were nicknamed, was two-fold; firstly, regarding their extensive literary scholarship, and secondly, the exact intimate nature of their relationship. During her visit on the 23rd July 1822, Lister attempted to ask Ponsonby about the true nature of their relationship, asking if they were ‘classical’, meaning homoerotic, which Ponsonby denied. Although she was unable to discern the true extent of the intimacy shared between Butler and Ponsonby, the impact on the then 31-year-old Lister was made. Later that day Lister writes, ‘I cannot help but thinking that surely it [their relationship] was not platonic’. (Very astute, Anne.) Romantic Friendship or homo-eroticism? Whilst historical study on the Ladies of Llangollen has not been lacking in quantity, in terms of ‘queer’ studies it has certainly been lacking in quality. The story of the pair’s attempted secret flight and eventual successful elopement, against the best efforts of their families, would, had either been male have been an undeniably sexually charged tale of forbidden lovers. However, dominant historiography continues to consider Butler and Ponsonby’s relationship as the idyllic platonic ‘Romantic Friendship’ of the long eighteenth century: a fairly common intimate relationship between women which surpassed any other friendship, but was not sexual. This is despite substantial evidence which supports an argument that their elopement was every bit the twenty-first century cottage-core fantasy it appears. As well as the basic fact that other romantic friendships would last for a few years at the most, and end with one or both women involved marrying men and moving on. Historians have struggled to conceptualise this relationship in light of the facts, for example, the 1936 narrative biography Chase of the Wild Goose by lesbian, doctor, and author, Mary Gordon presents the Ladies as proto-feminist and proto-lesbian. In her fantastical epilogue she alludes to the queer connotations of their partnership and thanks them for making ‘the way straight for the time that we inherited…’. However, she does not entertain a possibility of a sexual relationship. Similarly, Elizabeth Mavor, writing in 1971 strives to decry claims of a sexual relationship, or ‘Freud-ism’, concluding that whilst the Ladies of Llangollen are an example of an extraordinarily close ‘Romantic Friendship’ the ambiguity of their intimacy stems from their longevity, and nothing more. Now we know that these arguments are fundamentally flawed, female homoeroticism was an established fact, Gordon and Mavor’s obsessive attempts to avoid any implication of a sexual relationship, or ‘Freud-ism’ in their portrayals of the Ladies of Llangollen has resulted in texts which ignore glaring and simple facts. Such as their dramatic elopement; fifty years of cohabitation; bed sharing; exclusive use of the phrase ‘My Beloved’; never spending a night apart; and their uninhibited and unwavering dedication to each other from the moment of their meeting. (It's all very straight, isn't it?) If this were truly an innocent Romantic Friendship, why was their elopement scandalous? Lady Betty Fownes, Ponsonby's guardian, wrote of her happiness on hearing of Butler's impending confinement, 'I wish she had been safe in one [a convent] long ago; she would have made us [all] happy. Many an unhappy hour she has cost me, and, I am convinced, years to Sally [Sarah]'. Despite Mavor and Gordon’s wilful ignorance, the retirement to Wales was clearly understood by all parties to not be a temporary excursion. The dedication shown by these women was indicative even to their earliest contemporaries of something greater than a ‘Romantic Friendship’. Furthermore, considering primary texts such as the Hamwood Papers (Butler’s diaries and their correspondence) it is clear that Butler and Ponsonby thought of themselves as good as married. In convincing Fownes that she could be trusted with her guard, Butler promised that she would care for her ‘for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness or in health’. Whilst Ponsonby, in response to Mrs Lucy Goddard’s fearful warning that Butler was a woman who ‘does not understand virtue…’ adding, ‘…she might make love to you,” replied laughing, ‘I hope that she will love me… she does so beautifully.’ Regardless of if these comments were meant in sincerity or jest, it is clear that they were aware of, and unafraid of the connotations their intimate relationship encouraged. In a discussion of their self-awareness it is also worth noting that the Ladies of Llangollen had a string of dogs named Sappho. As literary scholars this may be ignored as simple poetic favour, fragments of Sappho’s poetry which may have been considered homoerotic were typically censored throughout the eighteenth century. However, as stated, Sappho was already synonymous with female homoeroticism, Emma Donoghue and Susan Lanser have established that any exclusion of these excerpts indicate an inherent, and fearful understanding of deviance, but this censorship wasn’t complete, and the texts could be accessed. It would be ignorant to argue that the Ladies of Llangollen, whose literary scholarship was almost unparalleled, were unaware of the implication of this name. Why is it so difficult to accept historic sapphism? Jennings explains that the fundamental obstacle to studies of ambiguous sapphic relationships is ‘essentialism’ (the idea that same-sex relationships have always existed and need to be rescued) and ‘constructionism’ (that sexual practises and identities are defined by wider culture and thus, how we define them tells us more about ourselves than of the relationships in question). It is perhaps because of this difficulty, and because of what Jennings describes as an obsession with defining ‘lesbianism’ through sex, that the Ladies of Llangollen are overlooked as an example of female same-sex love and homoeroticism. To put it simply, it seems to suit conservatism to consider Anne Lister entirely singular in her vulgarity. Fiona Brideoake provides the most effective rebuttal of reductive studies, starting with a criticism of Faderman’s conclusion that ‘lesbianism’ is a gendered commitment to another woman. Brideoake argues that these relationships are in fact, indicative of a multifaceted identity which should be considered equal to heterosexuality. However, the issues surrounding comprehending these relationships remain, thus, the terminology used to discuss them must be carefully chosen. Brideoake favours the umbrella term ‘queer’ meaning alternative to heteronormativity, Sarah Bentley defines their relationship, or rather our understanding of ‘Romantic Friendships’ to be ‘queer platonic’. However, is the accuracy of their intimacy the most significant factor of their relationship? As Elin Salt, the playwright of ‘Celebrated Virgins’ a 2022 play about the Ladies of Llangollen, states ‘if this was a man and a woman... We'd just accept they were two people who loved each other.” It is not the complexities of their relationship which are important, it is their impact as perceived Sapphists which needs to be considered. An anti- ‘lesbian’ argument could be supported by Hester Thrale Piozzi’s good friendship with Butler and Ponsonby. Piozzi is damning of perceived sapphism. For example, in her in 1789 denunciation of Marie Antoinette; Piozi also accused Anne Seymour Damer, an artist who was a rumoured sapphist of ‘liking her own sex in a criminal way...’. Piozzi would have been aware of the suggestions made concerning the intimacy of Butler and Ponsonby’s relationship thanks to a number of news publications disparaging the Ladies and their relationship, such as an article titled ‘Extraordinary Female Affection’ for a 1790 issue of the St James’ Chronicle. It is perhaps due to the inaccuracies of such articles that Piozzi does not disparage Butler and Ponsonby as she does other women who appear unsuitably single, describing them instead as ‘enchantresses’. However, as established ‘lesbians’ Anne Lister and Anna Seward both considered the Ladies of Llangollen as their emotional and erotic ‘kin’ it is in a study of these latter women that their position as ‘Modern History’s First Lesbians’ can be understood. Understanding sapphism through tragedy Queer history is often quite tragic, between forced heterosexuality, death and separation, you're hard pressed to find a truly happy queer relationship. Even Sarah and Eleanor's de facto marriage necessitated an almost permanent split from their families and homes. Queer individuals and relationships are recognisable through tragedy, a good example of this is Anna Seward, queer, a romantic poet and friend to the Ladies of Llangollen. Seward's writing and letters support an argument of lesbianism; she wrote to Mrs M. Powys in 1796 describing the Ladies of Llangollen as a modern Rosalind and Celia, the cross-dressing ‘lesbians’ of Shakespeare’s As You Like It. More significant however, is the suggestion that through their relationship, Seward was able to mourn the loss of her own love, living somewhat vicariously through her friends. The majority of Seward’s biographical studies pay little attention to the cause of her lifelong depression, perhaps to avoid a discussion of the poet’s sexuality. Literary studies of her work have however highlighted the cause of her heartbreak as the loss of Honora Sneyd, first to marriage and later to death, primary to that of the other numerous griefs Seward suffered, including the death of her sister and father, to both of whom she was remarkably close. Sneyd, who Seward refers to as the ‘sun of my youthful horizon’, ‘my lost Honora’ and ‘my constant companion’ is considered to be an equal or greater inspiration to Seward’s Ossianic literature than the death of her other famous lover Major Andre. She describes her grief for her lost lovers simultaneously, writing [the memory of them is] ‘rising, like an exhalation, in my memory’. In her 2015 publication, Joellen DuLucia situates Seward’s grief and her sapphism in the context of her epic, Llangollen Vale, which personifies Butler and Ponsonby. This, along with William Wordsworth’s later sonnet were significant contributors to the Ladies’ popular celebrity, and the language used by both is thought to have protected the Ladies of Llangollen from scandal regarding the nature of their relationship. However, if read through a queer lens, Seward’s epic narrative in particular, can be read as an ode not only to ‘Eleanora and Zara’, but through the lack of tragedy, a melancholic ode to the tragic Honora Sneyd. Particularly enlightening is the line which hopes that they [Butler and Ponsonby] will ‘perish together beneath “one kind icebolt,” a peace she and Sneyd could never share. ‘Modern History’s First Lesbian’ herself, Anne Lister, first read about the Ladies of Llangollen in an 1810 article in the fashionable magazine La Belle Assemblee. However, Lister’s sapphism could not be attributed to the reading of an article. As her diaries indicate, Lister had been considered ‘odd’ throughout her childhood, too masculine, too daring and too vulgar. Her first relationship began when Lister was 15, and confined to the attic of her boarding school in fears that she would negatively influence the other girls. Her roommate, Eliza Raine, an Anglo-Indian girl who was also considered too non-conformist to share the usual dormitories, became her first love from 1806 until 1814. Moreover, Lister’s relationship with Mariana Lawton began in 1812, however, it is only once Mariana visits Llangollen in 1817 and writes of Butler and Ponsonby’s unparalleled devotion that the pair began to seriously envisage a future together, despite Lawton’s marriage and the unfortunate eventuality that her husband did not die. Initially pushed by Lawton, from the moment of her own visit in 1822, Lister too was entirely convinced; she wrote days after her visit ‘I should not like to live in Wales – but if it must be so, and I could choose the spot, it should be Plas-Newydd at Llangollen, which is already endeared even to me by the association of ideas.’ (Very platonic!) Plas-Newydd and Llangollen Vale became, during the lifetimes of Lady Eleanor Butler and Miss Sarah Ponsonby and continues to be to this day, a destination of pilgrimage for LGBTQIA+ individuals. This is indicative of their legacy as identifiable non-conformists to a cis and heteronormative society with which countless cannot identify. In considering the impact of these women on Anne Lister and Anna Seward it is clear that in a discussion of the ‘Modern History’s First Lesbians’ the Ladies of Llangollen do precede Anne Lister, regardless of the sexual intensity of their relationship. Further reading: ‘The Hamwood Manuscripts’, papers of Lady Eleanor Butler and Sarah Ponsonby, comprising diaries and correspondence, together with related papers, (1774-1831) The National Library of Wales, < https://archives.library.wales/index.php/hamwood-manuscripts > Norton, Rictor (Ed.), "Extraordinary Female Affection, 1790", Homosexuality in Eighteenth-Century England: A Sourcebook, (22 April 2005, updated 15 June 2005) http://rictornorton.co.uk/eighteen/1790extr.html Seward, Anna, ‘Llangollen Vale, inscribed to the Right Honourable Lady Eleanor Butler, and Miss Ponsonby’, in Llangollen Vale, with Other Poems, (London: 1796), Published online at Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive, < https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/works/bse96-w0010.shtml> Thrale, Hester Lynch, Thraliana: The Diary of Mrs Hester Lynch Thrale (Later Mrs Piozzi), 1776-1809, Ed. Katherine C. Balderston, Vol.2 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1942) The Diaries of Anne Lister Lister, Anne, Whitbread, Helena (ed.), I know My Own Heart: The Diaries of Anne Lister, (New York and London, 1988) Lister, Anne, Whitbread, Helena (ed.), No Priest but Love: The Journals of Anne Lister from 1824-1826, (New York: New York University Press, 1992) Lister, Anne, Whitbread, Helena (ed.), The Secret Diaries of Anne Lister, (London: Virago Press, 2010) ‘Courageous and Audacious Ladies of Llangollen’, Duke University Libraries, (06/03/2018), < https://blogs.library.duke.edu/rubenstein/2018/03/06/courageous-audacious-ladies-llangollen/> ‘Female Sodomy’, Not Just the Tudors, (2022), https://open.spotify.com/episode/1UVn5aESC9aIf2ShXyEKKZ?si=OD_AV7_AR8ano9Qr7G3WcA Baigent, Elizabeth, ‘Lister, Anne’, Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, (2004/updated 2019), < https://doi.org/10.1093/ref:odnb/37678> Bentley, Sarah, ‘The Ladies of Llangollen’, Wellcome Collection, (13/03/2018), Bowerbank, Sylvia, ‘Seward, Anna (called the Swan of Lichfield), Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, (2004). < https://doi.org/10.1093/ref:odnb/25135> Brideoake, Fiona, ‘” Extraordinary Female Affection”: The Ladies of Llangollen and the Endurance of Queer Community’, Romanticism on the Net, Number 36-27, (November 2004, February 2005), Bryan, Nicola, ‘Gentleman Jack: The Ladies of Llangollen who intrigued Anne Lister’, BBC News, (02/04/2022), Castle, Terry, The Apparitional Lesbian: Female Homosexuality and Modern Culture, (New York: Columbia University Press, 1993) Clark, Anna, ‘Secrets and Lies: Anne Lister’s Love for Women and the Natural Self’, in Clark, Anna, Alternative Histories of the Self: A Cultural History of Sexuality and Secrets, 1762-1917, (London: Bloomsbury Academic, 2017), pp.5-77, <: https://www.jstor.org/stable/3840441 > Colwill, Elizabeth, ‘Pass as a Woman, Act like a Man: Marie-Antoinette as Tribade in the Pornography of the French Revolution’, in Merrick, Jeffrey, and Ragan, Bryant T., (eds.) Homosexuality in Modern France, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996) Coyle, Eugene, ‘The Irish Ladies of Llangollen: ‘The two most celebrated virgins in Europe’’, History Ireland, Vol.23, No.6 (Nov/Dec 2015), pp.18-20, Crampton, Caroline, ‘The lesbian Dead Sea Scrolls: Anne Lister’s diaries’, The New Statesman, (05/12/2013), < https://www.newstatesman.com/uncategorized/2013/12/lesbian-dead-sea-scrolls> DeLucia, JoEllen, ‘Queering Progress: Anna Seward and Llangollen Vale’, in DeLucia, JoEllen, A Feminine Enlightenment: British Women Writers and the Philosophy of Progress, 1759-1820, (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2015), pp.87-116, < DOI:10.3366/edinburgh/9780748695942.003.0003> Euler, Catherine A., Moving Between Worlds: Gender, Class, Politics, Sexuality and Women’s Networks in the Diaries of Anne Lister of Shibden Hall, Halifax, Yorkshire, 1830-1840, (D. Phil: University of York, May 1995), Faderman, Lillian, Surpassing the Love of Men, (London: The Women’s Press LTD., 1985) Figes, Lydia, ‘Lesbian love and coded diaries: the remarkable story of Anne Lister’, Art UK, (10/05/2019), Gordon, Mary, The Llangollen Ladies, originally titled Chase of the Wild Goose (North Wales: John Jones, 1936, this ed. 1999) Grant, Allison, ‘The Dangers of Playing House: Celia’s Subversive Role in As You Like It’, Selected Papers of the Ohio Valley Shakespeare Conference, Vol.4, Article 5, (2011), <: http://ideaexchange.uakron.edu/spovsc/vol4/iss2011/5> Griffiths, Hannah, ‘The Ladies of Llangollen’, The National Archives Blog, (08/02/2022), Hallett, Judith P., ‘Sappho and Her Social Context: Sense and Sensuality’, Signs, Vol.4, No.3, (Spring 1979), pp.447-464, < https://www.jstor.org/stable/3173393 > Hunt, Margaret R., ‘The Sapphic Strain: English Lesbians in the Long Eighteenth Century’, in Bennett, Judith M., and Froide, Amy M., (eds.) Singlewomen in the European Past, 1250-1800, (Pennsylvania: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1999), pp.270-296 Iglikowski-Broad, Vicky, ‘Gentleman Jack: Anne Lister - the first modern lesbian?’ the National Archives Blog, (09/07/2022), Jennings, Rebecca, A Lesbian History of Britain: Love and Sex Between Women Since 1500, (Oxford, Westport, Connecticut: Greenwood World Publishing, 2007) Katz, Brigit, ‘The 19th-century Lesbian Landowner who set out to find a wife’, Smithsonian Magazine, (19/04/2019), < https://www.smithsonianmag.com/arts-culture/19th-century-lesbian-landowner-who-set-out-find-wife-180971995/> Mavor, Elizabeth, ‘Butler, Lady (Charlotte) Eleanor’, Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, (2004/2006), < https://doi.org/10.1093/ref:odnb/4182> Mavor, Elizabeth, The Ladies of Llangollen: A Study in Romantic Friendship, (London: Penguin Books, 1971) Reynolds, Nicole, ‘Cottage Industry: The Ladies of Llangollen and the Symbolic Capital of the Cottage Ornee’, The Eighteenth Century, Vol.51, No.1/2, (Spring/Summer 2010), pp.211-227, Saunders, Amy, ‘The Afterlife of Christina of Sweden: Gender and Sexuality in Heritage and Fiction’, Royal Studies Journal, Issue 6, (2019), pp.204-221, < http://doi.org/10.21039/rsj.199> Valladares, Susan, ‘” An introduction to the Literary Person[s]” of Anne Lister and the Ladies of Llangollen’, Literature Compass, Issue 10, (2013), pp.353-368 Willis, Matthew, ‘Who were the Ladies of Llangollen?’, JSTOR Daily, (10/04/2022),

Catharine Dowman probably won’t be a name you’re familiar with, unless, of course you’re an ardent fan of early twentieth-century British Maritime History. In fact, even if you are, and even if you have visited Royal Museums Greenwich’s Cutty Sark, you still might not know who she is, which is a tragedy. So here is a long overdue Into the SPOTLIGHT article about this Suffragist who gave London one of it’s most famous maritime landmarks. (A note from Abby: if you’re not really bothered about maritime history don’t click off, I’m not going to start giving you ship facts, this is about Catharine.) Glossary: Deed poll - A legal document that must be filed to change your name in the UK Cutty Sark – Old Scots for ‘short skirt’ or ‘short petticoat’, the name of the ship comes from a Robert Burns poem ‘Tam o’Shanter’, a young witch ‘Nannie’ chases Tam, a drunk farmer after he catcalls her for her ‘Cutty Sark’ and she pulls off his horse’s tail! She’s the figurehead of the ship! Suffrage/Suffragette/Suffragist – protestors and activists for women’s right to vote. broadly speaking, Suffragettes were militant protesters and Suffragists were peaceful, though lines were often blurred. Barquentine – This is a type of sailing ship and simply means she had fewer sails than others, allowing for a much smaller crew but also slower travel. Brigantine – This is a smaller sailing vessel with two masts of different heights, this term is often shortened to ‘brig’ The Courtaulds and Public Service Catharine Courtauld (yes, that Courtauld) was born on the 25th May 1878, as the daughter of a wealthy textile family Catharine had an extensive education and a privileged upbringing. Contrary to any preconceptions you may have, the Courtaulds were unilaterally supportive of social reform, suffrage, and public causes; the family had a long history of funding hospitals, educational trusts, and charitable funds. Furthermore, prior to Catharine’s own birth, in 1866, two members of the family signed the first mass suffrage petition to Parliament! Catharine’s brothers Stephen and Samuel restored Eltham Palace (now an English Heritage site), and founded the Courtauld Institute of Art respectively. Their cousin, Katharina Mina Courtauld, ‘Min’, was a committed Suffragist who contributed to the 1911 Census Protests. Min’s half-sister, Elizabeth Courtauld, qualified as a doctor in 1901 and during WWI worked as an anaesthetist in a hospital 30km north of Paris. Catharine and her sister Sydney Renée were involved in the Mid Bucks Suffrage society, often hosting Garden Parties at their home in Frith Hill to fundraise for the cause, also selling art and sculptures for the effort. Moreover, Catherine was a founding member of the Artists’ Suffrage League and the Suffrage Atelier. Founding the League In 1907,and the Atelier in 1909, both organisations contributed artistic work to protests and propaganda efforts of the various Suffrage movements. Catharine’s work for the Suffrage Atelier were widely distributed in the form of postcards, and their typically witty nature made them popular and easily recognisable. (You can check out more of Catharine’s art and others in the Museum of London Collection!) Like other British Suffragettes and Suffragists, Catharine neglected activism during the outbreak of WWI to support the war effort. In 1918 (some) women in the UK were enfranchised, under the Representation of the People act. Specifically, women over the age of 30 who owned property, which included Catharine Dowman, although not the majority of the female population. Love and Scandal In 1912, Catharine met Mate Wilfred Dowman on board the Port Jackson, a Cadet Training Ship en route from London to Sydney, Australia. Scandalously, the married Dowman and Catharine fell in love. The couple would live together, unmarried(!) for several years, until Catharine changed her name by deed poll from Courtauld to Dowman in 1918. Unsurprisingly, this act was the final straw for Wilfred Dowman’s estranged wife Nellie and shortly afterwards she filed for divorce. Catharine and Wilfred were married in 1920. (Hurray for them?) Maritime Saviour The Cutty Sark, a former Tea Clipper and Merchant Navy ship, was spotted by Wilfred Dowman in Falmouth, Cornwall. Dowman recognised the ship as the one that overtook the ship which he had been an apprentice on in 1895. Cutty Sark had since been sold to the Portuguese, renamed the Ferreira and rerigged as a barquentine after a devastating storm. Dowman paid over the odds to have her returned to British ownership. An oft overlooked fact is that Catharine almost entirely footed the £3750 bill! (Approximately £108,700*) The Dowmans sold off other vessels that they already owned, including a brigantine called the Lady of Avenal, to buy Cutty Sark. They spent several years and a sizeable chunk of their finances to restore the ship to its former glory days as a sailing vessel. It made a public debut as the flagship of the Fowey Regatta in 1924, and for 16 years after this, she was moored in Falmouth as a training vessel for cadets. After Wilfred Dowman’s death in 1936, Catharine ‘sold’ the ship (for 10 shillings!) and donated £5000 (approximately £253,313*) for its upkeep to the Thames Nautical Training College. She was towed to Greenhithe, a village in Kent, where she served as an auxiliary vessel to HMS Worcester until 1950. After receiving considerable damage in January 1952, she was given to the Cutty Sark Preservation Society, and in 1954, moved to a custom-built dry dock in Greenwich where she remains. Despite a fire in 2007, 90% of the original ship materials remain intact! She is now a Grade 1 listed monument, open as a paid-entry museum as part of Royal Museums Greenwich. Her preservation is all thanks to Catharine Dowman’s generosity. If you want to learn more about Cutty Sark, Catharine, and Wilfred Dowman (and maybe even spot The HERstory Project’s founder in the flesh!) take a visit to Greenwich and the ship. If you’re lucky, Abby might even tell you about another Catherine’s influence on the British Tea Trade! *Currency conversions are completed by the National Archives Currency Calculator and only converts up to 2017 and does not take into account recent inflation, exact figures for 2023 would be much higher! Further reading: ‘Catharine Dowman’, Royal Museums Greenwich, (06/03/2018), https://www.rmg.co.uk/stories/blog/catharine-dowman-preservation-cutty-sark ‘Catharine and Sydney Renee Courtauld’, Amersham Museum, https://amershammuseum.org/history/women-at-war/catharine-and-sydney-renee-courtauld/ Batchelor, Linda, ‘Saving Cutty Sark – The Legacy of Wilfred and Catharine Dowman’, National Maritime Museum, https://nmmc.co.uk/2023/06/saving-cutty-sark-the-legacy-of-wilfred-and-catharine-dowman/ ‘The Suffragettes’, Museum of London, https://www.museumoflondon.org.uk/discover/suffragettes

In 1869, Sophia Jex Blake arrived in historic Edinburgh on a heartfelt mission. She wanted to study medicine at Edinburgh University and achieve a degree, allowing her to work as a medical doctor. At this time, there was not one British University willing to train women as doctors. There were eight big British universities: four in Scotland and four in England and although women were beginning to be allowed onto arts courses, Medical Faculties were closed to them. In the United States and European university cities such as Paris, Zurich and Bologna, women were being welcomed into medical faculties in good numbers. Britain was lagging behind shamefully. Sophia, a bold and determined character, from a wealthy London family, was always an excellent networker and general charmer. She seemed to understand public relations and strategy in a thoroughly modern way. In Edinburgh, she worked the salons of Edinburgh Society and drew courage from a number of progressive men willing to back her in her campaign. (There were many women backing her too, but they were not in positions of power to enable her to progress). While some high-profile medical men were liberal and progressive, of the enlightened sort, plenty were misogynistic, patriarchal and Calvinistic in their ways, much preferring women in the home, or as it was known, the domestic sphere. The early days of the female suffrage saw rallies and campaigns brewing, but women involved were accused of being ‘unnatural’ ‘prostitutes’ and ‘men in skirts’. At first Edinburgh said yes to Sophia. Hurrah! But this quickly turned to a no: Boo! A vote in another governing body of the university had gone against Sophia, much to her disappointment. It was thought that the efforts for accommodating one woman would be unfeasible. For example, for reasons of decency, it was apparently essential to teach women separately and alter the course for their delicate ways. To this, Sophia said: ‘I will find more women to make this worthwhile!” And she did. By advertising in the Scotsman newspaper for more women to join her on the course at Edinburgh. The editor of the Scotsman, Alexander Russel became a great champion of the Edinburgh Seven. So much so that he married one of them – Helen Evans! Six women replied to Sophia’s advert, and Edinburgh agreed to have them on special terms from the autumn of 1869. Sir James Young Simpson, Charles Darwin, Robert Louis Stevenson and Queen Victoria’s daughters supported the women. But there were seriously aggrieved opposers too – Sir Robert Christison and Sir Joseph Lister. Christison was a respected toxicologist, pathologist and physician to the Queen. He had given compelling evidence at the trial of graverobbers, Burke and Hare. His views on women in medicine were extreme. He didn’t mind female nurses and midwives. But he thought women’s brains were too small to be medics. (It’s since been discovered that Einstein had a small brain, and it is the pathways of the brain that matter more than overall size). Christison also thought women were too fragile to cope with the gory and upsetting side of medicine. Which is ironic because women had been delivering babies and tending to battlefield wounds since time began. Two of the most potentially gruesome aspects to medical care – obstetrics and war injuries – were already proven areas of expertise for women. So, what was the real problem? Why were the misogynists so vehemently opposed? To understand this, and how the campaign against the women grew violent, unyielding and embittered, we have to follow the stages of dissent. It was never going to be easy, trialing women on the esteemed medical course for the first time, but the extent of the battle to oust them could never have been anticipated. The first few months on the course went quite smoothly for Sophia and her female colleagues. The women worked diligently, and some sympathetic professors taught them independently of the main course, while they also helped each other to learn at their shared Georgian townhouse in Buccleuch Place, Edinburgh. The first big exams loomed in April 1870, and something controversial happened at this point. Edith Pechey, one of the Edinburgh Seven, achieved the top mark in the Chemistry exam. (Isobel came top in Anatomy and the women were generally in the top 4 out of around 200 students). The person who gained the top mark in Chemistry was routinely awarded the Hope Scholarship, laid down by Professor Hope forty years before. But Professor Crum Brown, advised by Professor Robert Christison decided that the award should go to the second top student – a man. So, Edith was denied the prize. At this moment, Sophia and the others began to understand what a momentous task lay ahead. Would they ever be allowed to graduate and become doctors? After the Hope Scandal, things went downhill. The women were jeered and laughed at, blocked out of lectures and exams, and death threats were sent to their home. At times, the Edinburgh Seven required a bodyguard to get around the city and some kindly Irish students protected them. This dissent reached a peak in November 1870, when the women arrived at the daunting Surgeon’s Hall building in the Old Town of Edinburgh, to take an Anatomy exam. In the dusk of a late Autumn afternoon, they saw that a large gathering had formed, with the purpose of blocking them from entering the exam hall. The subtext was that if they did not gather certificates from exams successfully taken, then they could be denied the right to graduate. This was now the aim of the opposers – to keep them women as hobbyists instead of rival professionals. The riot was an ugly scene – drunken singing, pelting of the women, name calling and violence. All carried out by middle class, educated students, possibly backed by senior professors and aided by ‘street rowdies’. One journalist of the time noted that: ‘In an age when chivalry towards women is the social norm, these men should be ashamed of themselves.’ Were the women daunted? Did they flee the violent scene? No. They linked arms and stood firm. After an hour of noisy demonstrating, a janitor eventually let them into the exam hall, where they calmly took the paper and passed. You might think the University opposers would feel shame at this point and accept them women were here to stay? The opposite happened. The men who wanted to the women to leave doubled their efforts and dug in. They were looking for a way to oust the women for good and in January of 1871, Professor Christison thought he’d found a way. It was at a meeting of the board of the Infirmary that Sophia spoke up during a debate. She said that the way the Seven had been treated was appalling, especially in the riot. She went on the say that the riot had been started by Professor Christison’s assistant, Edward Cunningham Craig, and that he was drunk and used foul language. This was taken as defamation of character and Sophia was served a writ and taken to court in June 1871. Public opinion after the riot and with regard to the court case was very much with Sophia and the other women. However, the all-male jury in the court of session decided Sophia had defamed the character of Cunningham Craig and she was the loser. That said, he was only awarded a penny, which was a way of saying what they really thought about his behaviour. From then on, Sophia Jex Blake was an international star – a celebrity activist - and she very cleverly turned her thoughts to a London Campaign to change the law through an Act of Parliament at Westminster. Edinburgh became more and more awkward and were determined that women would not get the degree level on the course, so the women began to leave Edinburgh to qualify in Bern and Dublin. Sophia formed a training hospital for women in London along with Elizabeth Garrett Anderson. In 1876, the law changed so that women doctors should be given equal rights as men, and in 1878, Sophia Jex Blake returned to Edinburgh as Scotland’s first woman doctor. She worked in Edinburgh until her retirement. The other members of the Edinburgh Seven also spent their life devoted to girls’ education, medical training for women and medical care for women. Sophia Jex Blake, we salute you. You can buy Janey's book The Edinburgh Seven: the first women to study medicine here