The Pirate Queen

I came across Barbara Sjoholm's The Pirate Queen: In Search of Grace O'Malley and Other Legendary Women of the Sea, when I was in the midst of my own search for Grace O'Malley, the sixteenth century Irish pirate who was a thorn in the side of English officials in Ireland.*

I must admit, I'm a sucker for books in which someone heads out on a quest to discover the traces of a historical personage or idea or event: say traces of Roman Britain  or the trail of the Cheyenne Exodus. ** The Pirate Queen is a wonderful example of the genre--good enough that I kept reading it in little bits and pieces over the course of months until I couldn't stand it anymore and gobbled down the last hundred pages this morning.

Sjoholm begins with the question "Where are the stories of women and the sea?" Ultimately, for reasons of language, she decided to limit her search to the British Isles and Scandinavia although she was aware that other maritime cultures also had legends about seagoing women. Beginning in Grace O'Malley's home turf of Clare Island in Ireland and ending in Tromsø, Norway, she tells the story of her search for the sea-women of history and myth and her discovery of new aspects of her. She tells stories about women who went to sea, and women who worked on the land as part of maritime industries. Grace O'Malley was just the best known. She tells the stories of the Viking princess Alfhild who chose to "go a-viking" rather than marry and Lief Erikson's (married) sister, who sailed from Greenland to Newfoundland. Mrs. Christian Robertson, who ran a maritime warehouse and whaling agency in the Orkney Islands in the nineteenth century. "Trouser-Beret", a Sami woman who captained fishing boats off Norway twenty years earlier. Hundreds of Scottish "herring lasses" who came to the Orkney Islands each summer in the 1930s to work in the fish industry. She considers weather witches, sea goddesses and the statues of women staring out to sea that appear in harbors throughout Scandinavia.

The stories are well-told and interesting in their own right. But I found the story of Sjoholm tracking down the stories even more interesting. It made me want to set out to sea in search of history.

*And who will not appear in Women Warriors, alas! I planned to include her in the chapter on women commanders, but the chapter fell apart in my hands. Grace O'Malley was left an orphan.

**One of those stories I stumbled across in search of something else. After the defeat of George Custer at the Battle of the Little Bighorn, the U.S Army hunted down the tribes involved. The Northern Cheyenne were relocated to the Indian Territory (aka Oklahoma). In 1878, a small group of them fled the reservation and attempted to make their way back to their home on the northern plains—an effort that turned into a 1000-mile running battle with tragic results. I’ve only dipped briefly into Alan Boyle's Holding Stone Hands: On The Trail of the Cheyenne Exodus, but it looks like an excellent example of the genre.

Tales From American HerStory

I know I've mentioned it before, but I owe a debt of gratitude to a group of authors (or perhaps a single author) whose name I don't remember. She, he, or they wrote a series of biographies for young girls about smart, tough American women who sidestepped society's boundaries and accomplished things no one thought they could accomplish. I grabbed each new volume as soon as it appeared in the school library. They were just what a smart nerdy girl needed at the time. They also put me one step further along the path to being a history bugg.*

 

I thought of those books when two picture books by Lisa Gammon Olson came across my desk: Dust Flowers and Sewing the Magic In At the Ringling Brothers and Barnum and Bailey Circus. The books are the first two volumes in her Tales From American HerStory series, which she describes as "One moment in American History as seen through the eyes of one young girl." In each book, Olson sets a young female protagonist in a vividly evoked historical setting that is central to the plot--the Dust Bowl of the 1930s in one case and the early years of the Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus in the other. Each book ends with an essay of historical nonfiction that gives more information about the historical world in which the book is set. The writing is lovely. The illustrations are charming. The stories are age appropriate for elementary school students but strong enough to grab me by the feels. I suspect that thirty or forty years down the road, there are going to be some grown women who remember Ms. Olson's book as one of their first steps toward history bugg-hood.

I planned to give my copies to the little girls who live next door. Looking at them again, I'm not sure I can bear to give them up.

You can learn more about Lisa Gammon Olson and her books at http://lisagammonolson.com/

*I keep mis-typing buff. I think I'm just going to claim. Say it loud. Say it proud: I am a history bugg!

In Anticipation of Women’s History Month: A Medieval Queen, The First Crusade And The Quest for Peace In Jerusalem

March 1st is barrelling down upon me. It's the start of women's history month--which doesn't have much impact on me because women's history has been the pool I swim in for the last several years. It's also the day my manuscript (typescript? bytescript?) is due to my editor and I am scrambling. I hope you enjoy one more post from the archives, this one from 2014.  New blog posts are coming as soon as I have an hour and a brain cell to spare.  Honest

coronation of melisende Recently I've been reading Sharan Newman's Defending The City of God: A Medieval Queen, The First Crusade And The Quest for Peace In Jerusalem. It was a perfect read for March, which was Women's History Month.*

Newman tells the story of a historical figure who was completely new to me. Melisende (1105-1161) was the first hereditary ruler of the Latin State of Jerusalem, one of four small kingdoms founded by members of the First Crusade. Her story is a fascinating one. The daughter of a Frankish Crusader and an Armenian princess, Melisende ruled her kingdom for twenty years despite attempts by first her husband and then her son to shove her aside. Even after her son finally gained the upper hand, Melisende continued to play a critical role in the government of Jerusalem. Those few historians who mention Melisende at all tend to describe her as usurping her son's throne.** Newman makes a compelling argument for Melisende as both a legitimate and a powerful ruler. (In all fairness, this is the kind of argument I am predisposed to believe.)

Fascinating as Melisende's story is, Newman really caught my attention with this paragraph:

Most Crusade histories tell of the battle between Muslims and Christians, the conquest of Jerusalem and its eventual loss. The wives of these men are mentioned primarily as chess pieces. The children born to them tend to be regarded as identical to their fathers, with the same outlook and desires. Yet many of the women and most of the children were not Westerners. They had been born in the East. The Crusaders states of Jerusalem, Edessa, Tripoli, and Antioch were the only homes they knew.

Talk about a smack up the side of the historical head!

If you're interested in medieval history in general, the Crusades in particular, or women rulers, Defending the City of God is worth your time.

* It was also nice to spend some time in a warm dry place, if only in my imagination. Here in Chicago, March came in like a lion and went out like a cold, wet, cranky lion.

** To put this in historical context. Melisende's English contemporary, the Empress Matilda (1102-1167) was the legitimate heir to Henry I. After Henry's death, her cousin Stephen of Blois had himself crowned king and plunged England into a nine-year civil war to keep her off the throne. Apparently twelfth century Europeans had a problem with the idea of women rulers.