When we think of medieval witchcraft, we typically associate the accusations and trials of the era with the peasantry, outcasts, and those of low social status. When witchcraft was in the air, however, not even those of the highest nobility were shielded from its wide purview. In her 2020 book, Royal Witches: Witchcraft and Nobility in Fifteenth Century England, Gemma Hollman highlights the stories of four women who occupied high positions of power in 15th century England and were, at various points in their lives, accused of witchcraft. Hollman argues that by examining the context and ulterior motivations behind these accusations, we can draw a fuller picture of the political and social tensions of 15th century England. 

Overview: 

Royal Witches is divided into four different biographies of various 15th century English noblewomen. Each of these biographies details the life of a woman in the high court of England who was, for one reason or another, accused of witchcraft. In retelling the history of the 15th century through their eyes, Hollman attempts to recover the lost stories of these four women: Joan of Navarre, Eleanor Cobham, Jacquetta of Luxembourg, and Elizabeth Woodville. Tracing the lives of these women (who were all related in an incredibly complex family tree), Hollman shows that each of these accusations was fueled by ulterior motives. 

In the case of Joan of Navarre (1368-1437), Hollman argues that she was accused of witchcraft so that her immense assets could be seized as a wartime austerity measure. While there are few sources regarding the life and case of Joan, much more is known about Eleanor Cobham (1400-1452). Accused of using witchcraft to predict the death of the king, Eleanor claimed that she simply used traditional folk remedies to aid in her conception of a male heir. Yet, while her conspirators were burned at the stake and hanged, drawn, and quartered, Eleanor was forced to divorce her husband, process through London barefoot for three days as an act of public humiliation, and face a lifetime of confinement in various castles throughout the country. 

In the cases of Jacquetta of Luxembourg (1415/16- 1472) and her daughter Elizabeth Woodville (1437-1492), their accusations of witchcraft were made during the tumultuous time of the Wars of the Roses. In an environment defined by political turmoil and upheaval, the mother-daughter pair were each accused of using witchcraft to woo powerful men and obtain power. While these were little more than desperate rumors that were not taken seriously, the accusations were meant to disparage the reputations of these women and remove them from their positions of power without having to use physical violence. 

By tracing the complex marriages, finances, and conflicts between the competing noble families, Hollman shows us ways in which power was distributed and usurped in the tumultuous 15th century. By highlighting the accusations of witchcraft against these women, Hollman shows that each accusation of witchcraft informed the next, as the claims and methods that were utilized by their accusers became increasingly elaborate and complex. 

Commendations: 

In this volume, Hollman examines the events of 15th century England (particularly the Wars of the Roses) through the lens of the women who stood in high positions of power. Since much of the historical record about these women has been written by men, they are often colored by patriarchal prejudices. As such, Hollman’s work does well to tell their stories on their terms as she offers a sympathetic counterbalance to the established historical record. As she explores the links between these women, Hollman humanizes them, emphasizing their perseverance in the face of death, loss, and adversity. 

Despite the paucity of sources regarding the private lives of these figures, Hollman blends historical narrative with creative imagination to make this a readable and decently engaging text. In narrativizing the events of the Wars of the Roses through the eyes of these women, Hollman brings a dense and complicated series of events to a wider audience. The average reader will learn much about 15th century English nobility and the constant struggles for power during the Wars of the Roses. For those who want to learn more about the cutthroat world of royalty, politics of 15th century England (with a particular focus on womanhood and marriage), then this book would be a fair place to start. 

Critique: 

On the other hand, since this book is essentially a regurgitation of the political events of the pre-Tudor era, the text can often be rather dry and dull. The sentences are rather short and unvaried, and Hollman utilizes the same transition phrases again and again (particularly egregious is her constant use of “however” to begin a new sentence). There were also several typos and grammatical errors that should have been caught by the editor, and the level of detail within the text was often uneven in places. Those who are not already familiar with the names and places of 15th century England will most likely find themselves lost several times throughout the text (there are so many different Henrys, Joans, Richards, and Elizabeths to keep track of), and while Hollman goes into painstaking detail into the family dynamics and finances of the royal families, there is no analysis of religion, folklore, or economics to set the eventual witchcraft accusations in context. 

This becomes more of a problem when one looks at Hollman’s sources. Granted, there is a paucity of primary sources on several of these women, and the ones we do have are often tinged with misogynistic overtones. Yet, Hollman too often employs a heavy dose of speculation to try to fill in the gaps. While this can be done well and is often necessary for constructing a narrative history with few (or unreliable) sources, Hollman often oversimplifies the historical narrative or inserts speculative statements that are taken to be as fact (certain figures “certainly” felt a particular way, or “must of” had this thought running through their head). This tendency is reminiscent of the work of Philippa Gregory, which makes sense since Hollman cites Gregory’s The Women of the Cousin’s War extensively (not to mention that Gregory also provides a blurb of praise for Hollman’s book on the cover). This reliance and affinity for Gregory and her work (which is not exactly known for its historical accuracy or academic rigor) is a definite red flag when assessing the accuracy of the historical claims within Holloman’s book. 

In regards to the content, Royal Witches might be one of the most mistitled books that I’ve read in recent years. While the book presents itself as an examination of witchcraft within the high court of 15th century England, only a small handful of pages concern themselves with witchcraft accusations. Rather, the book is almost entirely a retelling of the events of the Wars of the Roses, albeit while consistently referencing back to the four noblewomen who lived through them. This book is much more a series of biographies rather than an examination of witchcraft in 15th century England, which was a massive disappointment. Granted, Hollman makes the point that witchcraft wasn’t fully developed in England during this era, and it also makes sense to focus on the political machinations of the court, since these witchcraft accusations were political ploys more than anything else. 

Yet, by utilizing the witchcraft angle in titling and marketing this book, the publishers set an expectation that is deceptive. If Hollman examined the forms and practices of witchcraft in 15th century England, or at least how it differed from later developments in the 16th and 17th centuries, then the title might make more sense. With witchcraft often being little more than a desperate rumor in these women’s lives, however, the title of this book seems deliberately misleading, serving little more than a simple marketing tool. As it stands, this book is not about witchcraft at all; it is a multi-focused biography of four royals who were accused of witchcraft for political purposes (which, except for Eleanor Cobham, often had little effect on their lives). 

Finally, when it comes to the details of these women’s biographies, one has to question Hollman’s unquestioning defensive stance throughout the book. In the introduction, Hollman writes that her aim in writing the book is to “bring these women to the forefront of their time, where they so rightly deserve to be” (14). Correctly noting that most of the historical literature that has been written about these women has been done by men (who may harbor particular patriarchal biases), Hollman hopes to salvage the reputations of these four figures. She writes, “None of them were wholly good or wholly bad...Wherever possible, therefore, a middle ground has been sought among the conflicting accounts of their behavior where the real person comes through” (14). This aim is unquestionably commendable. 

While she takes pains to mention in the conclusion that she doesn’t aim to make these figures “appear as saints...to save them from their evil legacy” (274), this is precisely what she ends up doing. Drawing much from speculation, Hollman portrays these women as unassailable moral characters, devoid of faults and often merely the victims of their circumstances. Not only does Hollman all too often deprive these noblewomen of agency (though, admittedly, women had much more limited agency and autonomy in that era), but she also goes out of her way to justify their more unsavory attitudes and actions. 

Specifically, when it comes to the exorbitant amount of wealth that these women amassed and their lavish spending on clothes, jewelry, feasts, and accommodations (indeed, Joan of Navarre’s annual dower was 1/9 of the total annual income of the English government), Hollman justifies these excesses, writing that they were “deserving” of their positions of power and their inordinate wealth. There is no consideration of the average citizen or peasant of 15th century England, as Hollman is singularly focused on the dramatic machinations of the high court. As such, much of Hollman’s writing gives off “#GirlBoss” vibes, which makes the text read more like hagiography than biography. Echoing some resonances of bourgeois white feminism, Hollman’s lack of material analysis and tacit justification of the accumulation of wealth leaves much to be desired. 

Conclusion: 

Overall, while Royal Witches serves as an interesting retelling of the events of 15th century England through the eyes of a few powerful women of the era, it was ultimately a bit disappointing. Despite the book’s title, Hollman writes very little about witchcraft in 15th century England and instead focuses solely on the political machinations of the English nobility. There’s the seed of a highly engaging and interesting thesis in this book, but it all too often gets bogged down in basic retellings of historical events and family lineages without any deeper analysis.

Despite my criticisms, Hollman is still clearly a talented writer with a deep passion for this topic. I truly believe that, either in another edition or book, she can develop her unique voice further and write a truly groundbreaking work. Hollman seems to be a genuine and caring person and writer, and I don’t want my criticism to be taken as a form of ill-will or to become a source of discouragement. Unfortunately, this book just seemed to miss the mark, especially considering how it is marketed.

As such, if you want to learn more about the complex conflicts of the 15th century (especially the Wars of the Roses) in a relatively accessible way, then this might be the book for you. If you want to learn more about witchcraft in late medieval/early modern England, however, you’re likely to be dissatisfied with this sorely mistitled volume.