Brave and ever watchful: female military leadership before the modern era

Contributed by Paul Edward Strong. First published in Women In War WiW Group Newsletter No.28 Autumn/Winter 2020, Ed: Paul Strong & Celia Lee.

Æthelflæd, Lady of the Mercians, with her nephew, Æthelstan (Source: Wikimedia photo of the statue at Tamworth)

In the millennia between the emergence of organised warfare and the modern era (post 1800), most tribal cultures and emerging states were dominated by warrior elites. In theory, this limited the pool from which skilled warlords were drawn but, due to the societal pressures created by constant conflict, the military leadership of most warrior-based cultures was often more diverse than any society in the modern era. The decisive societal change occurred after the Peace of Westphalia in 1648, the rise of modern states and international law ended the cycle of violence that plagued Europe and enabled military professionalisation to emerge, but arguably limited the pool of potential leaders to an ‘educated meritocracy’.

The Enlightenment and the revolution in military affairs enabled this new European elite to both expand their dominion across the world and create the patriarchal social structures that we still live with today. This social paradigm has created considerable confusion about the process by which leaders emerge and has led to the modern assumption that women are inherently peace-loving – when history suggests that the gender of senior decision-makers is irrelevant and that women are just as ruthless and effective as men when faced by a strategic imperative.

Women appear in classical mythology in leadership roles in many cultures, as the teachers of skill in hand to hand combat or wisdom in battle. Training for war began at a far earlier age than today and women were often directly involved in preparing their sons for war. The Greek goddess of wisdom and strategy, Athena, and the Sumerian goddess of war, Inanna were both noted for their preference for cunning stratagems. Male deities dedicated to war, such as Ares and Thor, tended to be notable for their strength and brutality. An excellent example of the training role appears in Irish Celtic mythology in the story of Scáthach of Skye as she prepares Cú Chulainn for battle so he can become champion of Ulster.

Herodotus records that some of the Scythian tribes mandated that their noblewomen should prove themselves in battle before marriage. These young women appear to have acted as scouts for the main Scythian host (intriguingly the Soviets also found women to be highly effective scouts and snipers) and it is not surprising that the Early Greeks assumed that they were a separate tribe – the famed Amazons. The Sassanid Persian Empire, a culture that was closely related to the tribes of the Caucasus, even included gender-specific military ranks for female commanders. Notable examples from this period include Queen Tomyris, of the Scythian Massagetae, who led the horde that wiped out the army of Cyrus the Great of Persia in 530 BC, and Queen Artemisia of Caria, who commanded one of the most formidable of the Achaemenid Persian allied squadrons that gathered to offer battle to the Greeks during the Salamis campaign in 480 BC.

In many ancient societies, women played an important role in their military evolution. Notable amongst these remarkable individuals are Empress Jingū in Japan, Saint Olga in Russia, and Queen Semiramis in Assyria. Archaeology and archival research have done little to refute these stories and older assumptions about the role of women, particularly those from the warrior elite, are evaporating as new discoveries emerge. For example, ritual offerings found in female Scythian and Sarmatian graves in the Caucasus include well-used weapons and pieces of armour that were clearly treasured possessions.

Not all ancient societies were so open-minded. Most of the examples we have of women leading armies in the Roman period are the ones that were recorded precisely because they purported to demonstrate why women should never be allowed to command in battle. The very idea of a dux-femina (female commander) was assumed to be a threat to the auctoritas of her husband or father. For example, Queen Boudicca of the Iceni was portrayed as an exemplar of how a female commander would prefer bloodthirsty revenge to developing a coherent strategy and thus fell prey to a more disciplined force. One of the few who was described with considerable respect by Roman chroniclers was Queen Zenobia of Palmyra, the Third Century AD Arab queen who successfully defied both Rome and Persia.

Queen Tomyris of the Massagetae
Modern interpretation in Akan Sataev’s 2019 movie about the Scythian warrior queen)

The Germanic tradition is based upon the very sensible assumption that marrying a strong woman ensured that the dynasty would gain a new generation of strong sons and formidable daughters. As most warfare consisted of raids, noblewomen often found themselves commanding the defence of their family’s territory while their husbands were away or while their children came of age. The Viking sagas included many notable female leaders, including Ragnar Lothbrok’s wife, the redoubtable Lagertha, who Saxo Grammaticus described as “a skilled Amazon, who, though a maiden, had the courage of a man, and fought in front among the bravest with her hair loose over her shoulders. All marvelled at her matchless deeds, for her locks flying down her back betrayed that she was a woman”. The Franks also produced impressive female leaders, Brunhilda of Toledo ruled Austrasia with and iron fist in the Sixth Century and sought confirmation of her authority from Pope Gregory I (the Great). Though her ruthlessness and independence undoubtedly caused the Pope concern, he was impressed by her proven ability as a ruler and granted her ‘the power to correct evil-doers’. For centuries, this ancient document was cited as proof that women could hold both legal and military authority.

Anglo-Saxon women were just as formidable. Alfred’s daughter, Æthelflæd, gained the title Lady of the Mercians due to her key role in continuing her deceased father and husband’s campaigns to liberate English territory from the Vikings. Æthelflæd followed her father’s example and built an integrated system of fortresses to secure her territory before launching a brilliant series of offensives into the Danelaw. The secret of her success was the offer of ‘equality under the law’, a promise fulfilled whether her enemies chose to fight (and be defeated) or if they surrendered immediately. After several humiliating encounters, the Vikings of Derby offered to recognise her rule and the Vikings of York sent messengers to negotiate being absorbed into Mercia. During one of her campaigns, the Welsh attacked her Western provinces but her swift and decisive return left the raiders scattered and a swathe of Welsh towns ablaze. Interestingly, both the Welsh and Irish chronicles criticise the Welsh leaders who attacked Mercia, pointing out that Æthelflæd had been an honourable ally and that she had proven that she was as deadly in battle as her father.

The Normans also produced numerous female leaders. Duchess Matilda (of Flanders) protected Normandy for several years as Duke William conquered England and consolidated his rule. Later Countess Adela, their daughter, ruled the County of Blois as her husband, Stephan I, went on the First Crusade and her predatory neighbours wisely sought weaker prey.

In Greece, Sichelgaita, an Italian noblewoman married to the Norman mercenary Robert Guiscard, led his knights to victory at Durres in 1081. The Byzantine chronicler, Princess Anna Comnena, describes her dramatic intervention. “As they continued to run, she grasped a lance and charged at full gallop against them. It brought the Normans to their senses, and they returned to the battle.” Eventually, William the Bastard’s granddaughter, Empress Maud of Germany, and Adela’s son, Stephan II of Blois, fought a bitter campaign to contest the crown of England. Maud proved to be a skilled strategist, but a poor politician, and it was Matilda of Boulogne (Stephan’s Queen) who defeated the Empress’ field army and captured London. In the end, the nobility forced a compromise and Stephan continued to rule, eventually succeeded by Maud’s son, Henry II.

The Anglo-Norman historian Orderic Vitalis includes the tale of a blood feud between Isabel of Conches and Helwise, the Countess of Evreux. In a fascinating passage, explaining the turmoil in the 1090s, he describes them as being as deadly as any male commander:

“Both the ladies who stirred up such bitter wars were persuasive, high–spirited, and beautiful; they dominated their husbands and oppressed their vassals, whom they terrorized in various ways. But they were very different in character. Helwise on the one hand was clever and persuasive, but cruel and grasping; whereas Isabel was generous, daring, and gay, and therefore lovable and estimable to those around her. In war, she rode armed as a knight among the knights; and she showed no less courage among the knights in hauberks and sergeants–at–arms than did the maid Camilla, the pride of Italy, among the troops of Turnus. She deserved comparison with Lampeto and Marpesia, Hippolyta and Penthesilea and the other warlike Amazon (Scythian) queens…”

The most impressive female commander of the Medieval era was Matilda of Tuscany, La Gran Contessa. Matilda had been trained as in strategy after it became apparent that there would be no male heirs. She took part in her first skirmish at sixteen and quickly gained a reputation for conducting lightning raids against anyone who dared to cross her territory. Once it became apparent that the reformed papacy had withdrawn the Holy Roman Emperor’s right to appoint bishops within his territory, a decision that stripped him of much of the patronage that enabled him to dominate the fractious Imperial nobility, Henry IV of Germany invaded Italy. The Emperor sent army after army into Tuscany, some were initially successful but again and again they were harried and then destroyed by Matilda. The Pope was delighted, but when he dared to offer advice to the Countess he was told to keep to religious matters while she dealt with the threat from the north in her own way. Eventually, after numerous hard-fought battles, Henry IV was forced to compromise with the Pope and his ritual surrender was conducted at Matilda’s fortress at Canossa in 1077. The core causes of the conflict were unresolved, and war re- ignited within a few months, with Matilda fighting many more battles, and the Investiture Crisis continued well into the 12th Century. The Church remembered La Gran Contessa’s role in saving the reformed papacy and her statue is one of the most impressive in St Peter’s in Rome – holding the crown and keys of the Pope as their immortal guardian.

La Gran Contessa
(Source: Angus McBride’s illustration in Tim Newark’s Women Warlords)

“Brave and ever watchful, she often tormented the perverse. Mightily she undertook terribly violent battles with the king. For she endured steadfastly through thirty years. Fighting day and night to quell the tempests of the kingdom.”

In the 12th Century, Henry II naturally chose one of the most powerful women in Europe as his bride. Duchess Eleanor of Aquitaine had tired of her French husband, Louis VII, during the Second Crusade after it became apparent that he did not value her advice. Eleanor had offended some of Louis’ commanders during the march to the Holy Land and admittedly made a few minor tactical errors. Her strategic advice was far more impressive, and Louis’ decision to ignore her was a contributary factor in the failure of the Crusade. Eleanor made a formidable Queen of England and, once her sons rebelled against their father, a wily strategist in the wars against her husband. Both King Richard I and King John relied on her advice and her key retainers (including William the Marshal) were selected for both their mastery of courtly etiquette and their prowess on the battlefield.

Queen Eleanor’s success in creating a more cultured court, dominated by arts other than war, had unforeseen consequences. Women from the 13th Century onwards were less likely to command armies in the field though there were some spectacular exceptions, including the redoubtable Joanna of Flanders, Countess of Brittany, during the Hundred Years War. Leadership in a siege was more common, the most remarkable being Nicola De La Haye, the castellan of Lincoln castle. She successfully resisted two sieges, one in 1191 and the second in 1217. The latter was against the army of the foreign usurper, Prince Louis of France. Nicola’s success enabled William the Marshal to destroy the besieging force and place Henry III on the English throne, a campaign that enabled Magna Carta to finally become law and laid the foundations for the freedoms we enjoy today.

Christine de Pisan, a Venetian lady writing in France in the Early Fifteenth Century, famously highlighted the importance of noblewomen becoming familiar with military affairs – notably focusing on the conduct of siege operations:

Eleanor of Aquitaine on Crusade(Source: Modern Interpretation, Wikimedia Commons)

“She should have the heart of a man. She must know the laws of arms and all things pertaining to warfare, ever prepared to command her men if there is need of it. She has to know both assault and defence tactics to ensure that her fortresses are well defended, if she has any expectation of attack or believes she must initiate military action. Testing her men, she will discover their qualities of courage and determination before overly trusting them. She must know the number and strength of her men to gauge accurately her resources, so that she never will have to trust vain or feeble promises. Calculating what force she is capable of providing before her lord arrives with reinforcements, she also must know the financial resources she could call upon to sustain military action…”

In the 14th Century, Joan of Arc showed that a peasant girl could be as formidable as any noblewoman. Under her decisive leadership the French drove the English back to their core possessions in Normandy and Poitou. Those that claim she was little more than a figurehead ignore the fact that the French were regularly defeated before she appeared and were often unsuccessful after her capture. The difference is that her lack of noble blood meant that she had no protection from the fury of her enemies after her capture and there was no family to petition the ungrateful Dauphin to pay her ransom. It is important to note that other women of low station showed their mettle during sieges, inspiring others through their bravery such as Jeanne Fourquet (la Hachette) who fought the Burgundians in 1472, or Agustina de Aragón who fought in the Siege of Zaragoza in 1808.

During the Wars of the Roses, Queen Margaret of Anjou took command of the Lancastrian Army after Henry VI was captured in 1460. She refused to acknowledge her husband’s treaty with Edward of York and continued the war. At the Second Battle of St Albans, Margaret took a direct part in the fighting, reputably leading a force through the city to flank the Yorkist defenders. Margaret liberated her husband, but the Lancastrian cause was undermined by her insistence on killing a group of Yorkist prisoners who had displeased her. In 1471, after years of brutal campaigning, she watched the final battle at Tewksbury from a nearby abbey and saw her son and principal advisers defeated by Edward IV.

By the 1500s, few noblewomen held field commands and instead focused on the raising and organisation of armies. A notable exception was the Tigress of Forlì, Caterina Sforza, who was fully prepared to use military force to intimidate the Pope and famously defied Cesare Borgia at the Siege of Forlì. In England, Katharine of Aragon, the daughter of the Conquistador Queen, Isabella of Castile, raised the army that destroyed an invading Scots army at Flodden in 1513, though Henry VIII showed her little gratitude for saving his kingdom.

Jeanne D’Arc (Source: Modern Statue, Wikimedia Commons)

The most famous example of a female Tudor military leader is Queen Elizabeth I of England, a ruler understood both the power and limitations of female leadership in the 16th Century. Elizabeth’s speech at Tilbury in 1588 is a masterpiece in inspirational speechmaking and contains core concepts based upon fairness, justice and shared peril in the face of invasion that could easily have been penned by Æthelflæd. The text, generally assumed to be in her own words, is a beautiful combination of Medieval views on royal authority and Renaissance realpolitik.

“My loving people. We have been persuaded by some that are careful of our safety, to take heed how we commit ourselves to armed multitudes, for fear of treachery; but I assure you I do not desire to live to distrust my faithful and loving people. Let tyrants fear. I have always so behaved myself that, under God, I have placed my chiefest strength and safeguard in the loyal hearts and good–will of my subjects; and therefore I am come amongst you, as you see, at this time, not for my recreation and disport, but being resolved, in the midst and heat of the battle, to live and die amongst you all; to lay down for my God, and for my kingdom, and my people, my honour and my blood, even in the dust. I know I have the body of a weak, feeble woman; but I have the heart and stomach of a king, and of a king of England too, and think foul scorn that Parma or Spain, or any prince of Europe, should dare to invade the borders of my realm; to which rather than any dishonour shall grow by me,

I myself will take up arms, I myself will be your general, judge, and rewarder of every one of your virtues in the field. I know already, for your forwardness you have deserved rewards and crowns; and We do assure you on a word of a prince, they shall be duly paid. In the meantime, my lieutenant general shall be in my stead, than whom never prince commanded a more noble or worthy subject; not doubting but by your obedience to my general, by your concord in the camp, and your valour in the field, we shall shortly have a famous victory over these enemies of my God, of my kingdom, and of my people.”

Queen Elizabeth I at Tilbury (Source: Cate Blanchett in Elizabeth: The Golden Age in 2007)

The historical record shows that female military leadership was far more significant before the modern era. Command in battle based upon blood produced uneven results, but sometimes allowed more diversity than a system based upon selective hurdles which were often used to restrict advancement to even narrower elites than the military nobility. It is important to note that it took until 2015, when Admiral Nora Wingfield Tyson became commander of the US Third Fleet, for a woman to hold a rank equal to that held by Artemisia of Caria at Salamis. Intriguingly, one of the few military roles that women continued to excel in, up to the Nineteenth Century, was piracy – a career with no entry requirements except talent and ruthlessness (most notably Gráinne O’Malley, Anne Bonney, and Ching Shih).

When battlefield prowess is factored into the equation, the older and more brutal system seems to have allowed successful female commanders more opportunities to establish a reputation for effective leadership. One of the key advantages for both royal and noble women is that they didn’t have to demonstrate the physical attributes required to excel at more junior ranks and thus were able to focus on developing the skills required for higher levels of command. This does not mean that they didn’t have direct experience of war, what we now understand as staff roles would be very familiar to most pre-modern noblewomen, it just meant that they wasted less time acquiring skills that were irrelevant to operating as commanders at the highest level. As the warfare becomes more complex and dependant on an increasingly sophisticated understanding of the changing character of war, perhaps we should be less interested in training lieutenants to be generals and instead find ways to discover what makes an effective 21st Century battlefield commander in the first place.

Further reading:

Amazons: The Real Warrior Women of the Ancient World by John Man for an introduction to Scythian culture.

Empress Zenobia: Palmyra’s Rebel Queen by Pat Southern and Zenobia: Shooting Star of Palmyra by N. Andrade

The Warrior Queen by Joanna Arman and The Lady Who Fought the Vikings by Don Stansbury for the story of Æthelflæd.

The Military Leadership of Matilda of Canossa, 1046–1115 by David Hay for Matilda’s campaigns. The Alexiad by Anna Comnena for the Normans in the Mediterranean.
Various works by Kaveh Farrokh for female commanders in Ancient Persia.
Orderic Vitalis for the Normans (particularly Norman noblewomen) in Northern Europe. Eleanor of Aquitaine: A Life by Alison Weir.

Christine de Pizan’s The Book of the City of Ladies and The Treasure of the City of Ladies for a contemporary view.

Men, Women, and War by Martin van Creveld for the counterarguments to this essay.