Queen of France
She married King Philip on 28 April 1180 at Bapaume and brought as her dowry the county of Artois. The marriage was arranged by her maternal uncle Philip, Count of Flanders, who was advisor to the King.
Isabella was crowned Queen of France at Saint Denis on 28 May 1180. As Baldwin V rightly claimed to be a descendant of Charlemagne, the chroniclers of the time saw in this marriage a union of the Carolingian and Capetian dynasties.
The wedding did not please the queen mother, since it had meant the rejection of her nephew and the lessing of influence for her kinsmen. Though she received extravagant praise from certain annalists, she failed to win the affections of Philip due to her inability to provide him with an heir; although she was only 14 years old at the time. Meanwhile, King Philip in 1184, was waging war against Flanders, and angered at seeing Baldwin support his enemies, he called a council at Sens for the purpose of repudiating her. According to Gislebert of Mons, Isabella then appeared barefooted and dressed as a penitent in the town's churches and thus gained the sympathy of the people. Her appeals angered them so much that they went to the palace and started shouting loud enough to be heard inside.
Robert, the king's uncle, successfully interposed and no repudiation followed as repudiating her would also have meant the loss of Artois to the French crown.
Finally, on 5 September 1187, she gave birth to the needed heir, the future King Louis VIII of France.
Read more about this topic: Isabella Of Hainault
Famous quotes containing the words queen of and/or queen:
“In the game of Whist for two, usually called Correspondence, the lady plays what card she likes: the gentleman simply follows suit. If she leads with Queen of Diamonds, however, he may, if he likes, offer the Ace of Hearts: and, if she plays Queen of Hearts, and he happens to have no Heart left, he usually plays Knave of Clubs.”
—Lewis Carroll [Charles Lutwidge Dodgson] (18321898)
“Half-opening her lips to the frosts morning sigh, how strangely the rose has smiled on a swift-fleeting day of September!
How audacious it is to advance in stately manner before the blue-tit fluttering in the shrubs that have long lost their leaves, like a queen with the springs greeting on her lips;
to bloom with steadfast hope that, parted from the cold flower-bed, she may be the last to cling, intoxicated, to a young hostesss breast.”
—Afanasi Fet (18201892)