Great Bastards of History

by Juré Fiorillo

  GREAT

  BASTARDS

  OF HISTORY

  TRUE AND RIVETING ACCOUNTS OF THE MOST FAMOUS ILLEGITIMATE CHILDREN WHO WENT ON TO ACHIEVE GREATNESS

  JURÉ FIORILLO

  CONTENTS

  Introduction

  CHAPTER 1 WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR: A Lucky Bastard, 1028?–1087

  CHAPTER 2 LEONARDO DA VINCI: Bastard of the Renaissance, 1452–1519

  CHAPTER 3 FRANCISCO PIZARRO: A Brutal Bastard, 1475–1541

  CHAPTER 4 ELIZABETH I: From Bastard Daughter to Virgin Queen, 1533–1603

  CHAPTER 5 JAMES SCOTT, 1ST DUKE OF MONMOUTH: The Bastard Who Would Be King, 1649–1685

  CHAPTER 6 ALEXANDER HAMILTON: An Illegitimate Son Becomes a Founding Father of a New Nation, 1757–1804

  CHAPTER 7 JAMES SMITHSON: A Mysterious Bastard Becomes Benefactor of America’s Most Prestigious Museum, 1765–1829

  CHAPTER 8 BERNARDO O’HIGGINS: How the Viceroy’s Illegitimate Son Became a National Hero, 1778–1842

  CHAPTER 9 ALEXANDRE DUMAS FILS: An Illegitimate Son Inherits His Father’s Talents—and Vices, 1824–1895

  CHAPTER 10 HENRY STANLEY: The Illegitimate Welshman Who Found Livingstone, 1841–1904

  CHAPTER 11 JACK LONDON: Rebellious Mother, Rebellious Son, 1876–1916

  CHAPTER 12 LAWRENCE OF ARABIA: Legendary, but Not Legitimate, 1888–1935

  CHAPTER 13 BILLIE HOLIDAY: How a Parentless and Poverty-Stricken Child Became a Jazz Legend, 1915–1959

  CHAPTER 14 EVA PERÓN: A Struggling Actress Remakes Herself into a Cultural Icon, 1919–1952

  CHAPTER 15 FIDEL CASTRO: An Illegitimate Child Sparks a Revolution—and Reinvents a Nation (1926–)

  Bibliography

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Index

  INTRODUCTION

  “WHY BASTARD? WHEREFORE BASE?

  WHEN MY DIMENSIONS ARE AS WELL COMPACT,

  MY MIND AS GENEROUS, AND MY SHAPE AS TRUE,

  AS HONEST MADAM’S ISSUE?”

  —KING LEAR

  CHANCE CHILD, WHORE’S SON, BAR SINISTER, LOVE CHILD, CATCH-COLT, bachelor’s baby, and bastard are but a few of the appellations given to children born out of wedlock. Throughout history, illegitimacy has carried a stigma and posed a heavy burden for those branded as bastards. Those who were unfortunate enough to carry the label illegitimate have faced extreme hardship and many obstacles in life.

  This book takes a look at the lives of individuals who rose above the circumstances of their birth and made a lasting impression on history. They experienced severe adversity in the form of poverty, neglect, ridicule, and scorn as a result of being illegitimate. For example, although founding father Alexander Hamilton achieved great success in his life, he was never able to escape the stigma of being born out of wedlock. Despite Hamilton’s many achievements, John Quincy Adams frequently referred to him as the “bastard son of a Scottish peddler.”

  To the world’s great benefit, Leonardo da Vinci’s illegitimacy barred him from entering certain professions. Unlike his father, da Vinci could not pursue a career in finance. Eva Perón could not marry Colonel Juan Perón because an Argentine law prohibited military officers from marrying women born out of wedlock. She had to alter her birth certificate to become Argentina’s First Lady.

  In ancient Rome and Greece, illegitimate births were common and viewed as normal occurrences in life. The circumstances of a child’s birth were noted for legal, rather than social or moral, reasons. Children born out of wedlock had fewer rights to parental inheritance, and thus were designated “illegitimate” to differentiate from “legitimate” heirs.

  The pragmatic attitude toward illegitimacy held by the Greeks and Romans changed with the advent of the Middle Ages and the spread of Christianity. In the Christian stronghold of Europe, illegitimacy was viewed as a scourge—a tear in the moral fabric of a God-fearing society. An illegitimate child was the living embodiment of immorality, of sex outside of the sanctity of holy matrimony. This opinion held firm, even as the Renaissance dawned.

  On a more pragmatic level, illegitimacy was shunned and disparaged because it strained the state’s finances. Because the majority of unwed mothers were poor, society was often saddled with the responsibility of supporting the unfortunate offspring. Long before he set off for Africa in search of the missing doctor David Livingstone, explorer Henry Morton Stanley was confined to the crowded quarters of St. Asaph Union Workhouse, a dumping ground for unwanted children, as well as the detritus of Welsh society. In some European countries, criminal charges could be brought against parents who abandoned, or were unable to support, their illegitimate children.

  In France, discrimination against illegitimate children was especially harsh after the passage of the Napoleonic Code in 1804. According to the code, illegitimate offspring were considered parentless. Parental acknowledgment was strictly voluntary. Bizarrely, maternity was not assumed or acknowledged; a woman had the right to renounce her child. A child wishing acknowledgment from his or her mother had to prove maternity in a court of law. Such recourse was forbidden for proving paternity. Wayward fathers were not required, or expected, to claim their illegitimate children. However, they could claim parentage at any time. French playwright Alexandre Dumas Fils was several years old when his father, the legendary novelist for whom he was named, legally acknowledged him as his son.

  In England, an illegitimate child was deemed filius nullis—child of no one. Not only were non-marital children considered parentless by law, but they were also denied the right to inherit property and royal titles. When serial husband King Henry VIII had his second marriage annulled, he effectively made a bastard of his three-year-old-daughter, Elizabeth. By law, Elizabeth’s status barred her from inheriting the throne; she was only able to wear the crown because Henry stipulated so in his will.

  Attitudes toward illegitimacy have changed tremendously over the past two centuries. Many of the restrictions placed on the rights of illegitimate children have been lifted or relaxed. In 1968, the United States Supreme Court extended the 14th Amendment to apply to illegitimate children, securing their rights to parental inheritance. The United Kingdom discarded the notion of filius nullius, supplanting it with the Children Act, which recognizes non-marital paternity and parental responsibility. In 2005, France removed the distinction between illegitimate and legitimate children set forth in the Napoleonic Code. Today, illegitimacy is less stigmatic, especially in Western cultures. Natural children have a much lighter burden to bear than their historical counterparts. They also have an enforceable legal right to parental support in most countries. This is indicative of the changing attitudes toward non-marital offspring.

  The individuals covered in this book surmounted enormous obstacles and broke through seemingly impenetrable barriers in their pursuit of their goals. With their legacies firmly established, these individuals are among history’s most unforgettable—and greatest—bastards.

  CHAPTER 1

  WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR

  A LUCKY BASTARD

  1028?–1087

  HE WAS FRENCH, SPOKE BARELY A WORD OF ENGLISH, HAD ONLY A DUBIOUS CLAIM TO THE THRONE, AND WAS A BASTARD BESIDES. YET THE WARRIOR DUKE OF NORMANDY MADE HIMSELF ONE OF ENGLAND’S MOST SIGNIFICANT KINGS IN A YEAR EVERY ENGLISH SCHOOLCHILD IS TAUGHT TO REMEMBER—1066.

  HE NEEDED A WIND FROM THE SOUTH. IN THE SUMMER OF 1066, WILLIAM, Duke of Normandy, the illegitimate son of a rogue duke and a leather-tanner’s daughter, had assembled an invasion fleet at the English Channel port of Saint-Valéry, poised to launch an attack on England to press his claim to the English throne. A southerly wind would allow the flotilla to unload his ten thousand warriors and three thous
and horses on the beaches of Sussex and push on toward London. But for almost a month, a stiff and steady wind had been blowing from the north, keeping the would-be invaders in port. Now it was September. Opportunity might be slipping away unless the fickle Channel weather changed.

  Across the Channel, a rival claimant, Harold Godwinson, Earl of Wessex, had already proclaimed himself king. Harold, a member of a family that controlled vast areas of England, was a large, burly man and a born leader. He had mobilized and trained a powerful army and had chosen strong positions in anticipation of a possible attack. He had been a longtime chief advisor to the English king, as had his father before him. William the Bastard would clearly have a difficult struggle after he landed—if the wind shifted and allowed him to land at all.

  “The king is dead!” The famous Bayeux Tapestry depicts Duke William of Normandy, left, notified of the death of King Edward “the Confessor,” opening his path to the English throne. The Tapestry is 230 feet (70 m) long and depicts the events leading up to and during the Norman invasion of England.

  Both armies were becoming restless and eating through their supplies. Forage for William’s three thousand horses was becoming a problem, not to mention that the cavalry was producing a mountain of manure.

  Neither leader had a clear title to the English crown. Now a third candidate with an even more dubious claim appeared. Harald Hardråde of Norway had landed a large army near York in northern England. He had allied himself with Harold Godwinson’s younger brother Tostig, who had his own aspirations plus his own army. Hardråde argued that much of the population of northern England were Norsemen, and their allegiance was to him, not to the Anglo-Saxons of Wessex. The Norse had a right to the kingship.

  To emphasize his rights and power, he torched the English-garrisoned town of Scarborough, near York. Harold Godwinson, ever ready for battle, turned his waiting force around, took two-thirds of his infantry, and in a series of day-and-night forced marches still regarded as a military miracle, confronted Hardråde and Tostig at Stamford Bridge outside York. Harold’s surprise appearance completely overwhelmed the Norwegian force. Hardråde and Tostig were killed in the battle, and the remaining invaders fled to their ships as fast as their legs would carry them. Then he turned his army about to deal with those pesky people from Normandy.

  In his absence a significant change had occurred in the south. The northerly Channel gusts that had immobilized William for a month gave way to a more welcoming southerly wind as summer slipped into fall. William did not waste a minute. On September 26, 1066, he ordered the invasion fleet into the Channel. His army stormed ashore unopposed and began expanding their foothold toward the town of Hastings, on the road to London. Two days later, Harold’s weary forces appeared, igniting what has been called one of the pivotal battles of history. William emerged triumphant, thanks to the wind shift and Harold’s distraction upcountry. Because of his questionable birth, the Duke of Normandy had been disparaged and jeered as “William the Bastard.” After the breaks began coming William’s way in 1066, the American historian John Dillingham declared the sobriquet should be amended to “William, the Lucky Bastard.”

  A FAIRY-TALE ROMANCE, SORT OF

  One day in 1025 or 1026, according to legend, Duke Robert I of Normandy looked over his castle wall at Falaise and spied a beauteous young woman at the pond below. Next day he saw her laughing and dancing with other villagers and was completely captivated. Herleve was the daughter of the local tanner. Soon, “he had his way with her, as dukes will,” one historian wrote, and she gave birth to a son legendarily on a bed of bulrushes after dreaming that her intestines had been spread all over Normandy and England. (William’s later opponents were to taunt him about the allegedly abhorrent and supposedly persistent smells of a tannery, sometimes greeting his public appearances with a path strewn with smelly hides. William did not take such insults lightly. When villagers in Alençon thus greeted him, he ordered their hands and feet cut off.)

  William’s father, Robert the Duke of Normandy, pictured here, died when his son was only nine. His father never married his mother, the daughter of a local tanner. Title page from ‘La Terrible et Merveilleuse Vie de Robert le Diable,’ published by Claude Bihart in 1563 (engraving) (b/w photo), French School, (16th century) / Bibliotheque Nationale, Paris, France / Lauros / Giraudon / The Bridgeman Art Library

  William was brought up in the ducal palace as the duke’s heir despite his illegitimacy, to the dismay of court purists. He was a bright and strong-willed boy, and Robert encouraged his possible leadership qualities. Then in 1035 Robert abruptly volunteered for the Crusades and went off to the Holy Land. Word eventually filtered back that the duke had died in Nicaea, en route home. Determined to maintain the ducal lineage, the Norman court proclaimed the boy the new Duke of Normandy.

  The next few years were hardly serene for the young duke. After Robert’s death, Normandy fell into chaos. Nobles across the Norman lands organized personal armies and built their own fortified castles. There were a series of peasant uprisings and internal rebellions, some of them promulgated by the duke’s own jealous relatives objecting or claiming to object to a mere child being elevated to the dukedom, and a bastard at that. Plots were directed at young William’s life. One night he was awakened and told he must flee, his life was in danger. He was placed half dressed on a horse and escaped. Many of his most loyal supporters were killed, including his guardian, his tutor, and his steward. When the plot was thwarted and the uprising put down, he was brought back and restored to his role as duke-in-training, and he took to it with a vengeance. His father would have wanted it that way; although some describe Robert as easygoing and amiable, he was also known as “Robert the Devil.”

  Bastardy was not the stain it was to become in terms of moral attitude or inheritance, and anyway bastardy ran in the family. His rivals saw riches to be gained and ducal prerogatives to be claimed. Nonetheless, being an illegitimate heir was a drawback to being accepted.

  William quickly demonstrated that he would not be a mere figurehead manipulated by others. At age twelve, he was giving commands to the army. Knighted at fifteen, he began a campaign to neutralize internal opposition and expand Normandy’s borders. At eighteen, he commanded his first major battle at Val-ès-Dunes; his internal enemies had joined forces in the western part of the dukedom, with some support from neighboring Brittany and Flanders. Backed by King Henry I of France, William met them at the River Orne and overwhelmed them. The opposition continued; his uncle, William, Count of Arques, had always objected to his brother’s illegitimate son as duke. He lined up Anjou, which had become the Normans’ chief commercial rival, Flanders, and even Henry of France, William’s one-time benefactor, who had turned against him. All these enemies then teamed up against William, but in 1054 he defeated their combined armies with a great victory at Mortemer. He was not yet thirty years old.

  AFTER DUKE ROBERT’S DEATH, THERE WERE A SERIES OF PEASANT UPRISINGS AND INTERNAL REBELLIONS, SOME OF THEM PROMULGATED BY THE DUKE’S OWN JEALOUS RELATIVES OBJECTING OR CLAIMING TO OBJECT TO A MERE CHILD BEING ELEVATED TO THE DUKEDOM, AND A BASTARD AT THAT.

  While solidifying his rule in Normandy, William also began to look abroad. He took on the Muslims in Spain, recapturing Tarragona, and even invaded Sicily and the southern part of Italy. By the year 1060, however, he was turning more attention toward England, less than fifty miles from Normandy across the English Channel. Because of the proximity, England and Normandy had close trade ties—London was actually closer than Paris—and there were dynastic ties as well. King Edward of England, known as “Edward the Confessor,” was more than sixty years old. England was a rich and prosperous country, and Edward had no legitimate heirs. He had never openly nominated a successor.

  Edward has been compared to a rich old miser, playing off one child against another with tantalizing but vague hints about riches he might, just might, bequeath them in his will if they measured up. One after another, he teased the young wannabe k
ings with dreams of a glorious if distant future. William and Harold were two of the most likely candidates. But were any outright promises actually made? That question has been argued for nine hundred years. Thousands of lives were lost in 1066 in an effort to resolve it.

  King Edward, right, bids Godspeed to Harold, a claimant to the throne, before his upcoming visit to Normandy in 1064 in a scene from the Bayeux Tapestry.

  Getty Images

  A VISIT TO RELATIVES

  In 1062, William considered Normandy secure and prospering and the overseas adventures under control. His erstwhile enemies had either pledged fealty to him or were sulking in their castles. He heard fewer taunts of “William the Bastard.” It seemed an appropriate time to pay a family courtesy call on Edward the Confessor. They were relatives, after a fashion—Edward’s wife, Edith of Normandy, was William’s great-aunt by marriage. Amid the feasting and family celebrating, the old king was greatly impressed with the young man’s leadership qualities and grasp of monarchial duties. Edward was a dictatorial martinet very conscious of royal prerogatives. He had peremptorily sent off his first wife of twenty years to a nunnery when she failed to produce an heir, and he “indicated” that he might look favorably on William as a successor and potential king of a combined England and Normandy. At least that was how William and his entourage told the story afterward.

  Then in 1064 Harold arrived in Normandy. According to one version, he had been commissioned by Edward to size up William’s kingly potential and to sound him out on a possible political alliance or a kind of co-kingship under one flag. A second version explains Harold came on his own initiative, hoping to negotiate the release of his brother and nephew held as hostages in Normandy. A simpler version says he was just out fishing when he ran into a storm—even though he had shown no interest in fishing before. In any event, the quirky Channel winds drove Harold’s boat ashore at Ponthieu, very much in William’s sphere of influence. Harold was arrested as a pirate, which frequently happened to shipwrecked sailors. William had just emphatically subdued a rebellious Count Guy of Ponthieu in battle. So when William learned of Harold’s imprisonment, he urged Count Guy in no uncertain words to release him. That would surely win him brownie points at the London court. The count immediately freed Harold and personally escorted him to William’s palace at Rouen.