Marble Hill

Marble Hill

The lovely Palladian villa of Marble Hill at Twickenham is place of refuge and escape. Maria Fitzherbert retreated there when her lover, the future George IV, decided he was going to ditch her and marry Caroline of Brunswick instead. Legends tell of him riding up and down the road nearby on the night before his wedding, tormented with indecision. We also have the account that a mutual friend rode to Marble Hill and informed Maria when George had actually gone through with the marriage ceremony. Upon hearing the news, she fainted away. But it wasn’t just Maria who fled to Marble Hill. Before her time, the house was a sanctuary for a Hanoverian mistress who led, to make a massive understatement, a difficult life. Her name was Henrietta Howard.

I was lucky enough to take part in Historic Royal Palaces’ study day on 2 May 2013, which was all about Henrietta. It’s simply wonderful that a whole day was devoted to finding out more about this truly admirable woman. We were treated to an overview of Henrietta’s life from Tracy Borman, author of King’s Mistress, Queen’s Servant. I can thoroughly recommend the book, which Tracy clearly poured much love and research into. She delivered an excellent talk and held a question and answer session afterwards, where I was able to find out how Henrietta dyed her hair blond (horse urine. Nice). As Tracy explained, not much was known about Henrietta until she undertook to write her biography. We knew she was a mistress of George II and built Marble Hill, but other details were lacking. Thank goodness Tracy decided to find out more, because what we uncover is a complicated and resourceful woman who it’s hard not to love.

Henrietta grew up as a minor aristocrat, part of the Hobart family at Blickling Hall. Tudor fans will know this is the house where Anne Boleyn was probably born. But despite her privileged start, Henrietta was doomed by the extravagance of her spend-thrift, dominating father. His death in a rash duel threw the family upon hard times. In the next few years, Henrietta’s mother and all her elder siblings were to follow her father to the grave – leaving the impoverished Henrietta responsible for the family.

Luckily, Henrietta had a connection to the Earl and Countess of Suffolk, who welcomed her into their home. But what seemed like a safe haven turned out to be a gilded trap.  It was while staying with the Earl and Countess that she met their youngest son, Charles. Young and in need of stability, she was won over by the handsome soldier. Henrietta married Charles aged just 19. It was to prove a dreadful mistake.

Charles was a drunken, gambling, cheating husband. He was also mentally and physically abusive. Only one child was born of this ill-made union: a son, Henry. Though Henrietta adored her boy, she struggled to raise him. Often going without food, fleeing from mean dwelling to mean dwelling, she had to assume the name of Mrs Smiths to dodge her husband’s creditors. There were years when he abandoned her altogether. Most women would have given up. But not Henrietta. By selling all she had, and frequently starving herself, she managed to raise the money to take herself and Charles to Hanover. Here, she hoped to win favour at the court and ingratiate herself with the next King of England. You might ask why she took such a terrible husband with her on this venture. Sadly for Henrietta, it was his noble name of Howard that was the key to the inner sanctum of royalty.

Henrietta_Howard

Henrietta soon won the friendship of Princess Caroline and secured a position in her household. Charles, somehow got himself a job under King George I. The pair were still stuck together, but at least they had income and a roof over their heads. Just as Henrietta had planned, they were able to come back to England when George ascended the throne, jewels in the new and sparkling court.

It was only during the fateful years of 1717 and 1718 that Henrietta finally escaped the clutches of her husband. The establishments of King George and the Prince and Princess of Wales dramatically split over a young prince’s Christening. Servants were forced to chose a side and Henrietta was swift to attach herself to Caroline – leaving the fuming Charles behind with the old King. Tragically, Henrietta’s decision meant she had to leave her son darling in Charles’ “care”. The boy was raised to hate her.

About this time, Henrietta’s close friendship with the Prince of Wales turned into something more. She became mistress to the future George II – although it was by no means a passionate or romantic love story! George was short-tempered, brutally frank and given to long, boring conversations. It was sense, not emotion, that lured Henrietta into his bed. But while the new position earned Henrietta money and status, it also soured her relationship with George’s wife, Caroline. Henrietta soon found herself the object of jealous spite and longed to flee the court.

In secret, Henrietta planned and saved for Marble Hill. She was intimately involved in every detail of the design. This place was her dream, her safe haven after a life of torment. But getting there was difficult. Charles threatened to abduct her if she left royal protection. Henrietta was trapped for years, until Charles finally did her one good service: he left her a widow. Now her life of freedom in Marble Hill could begin. The study group were lucky enough to have a private tour of this stunning building.

Supper and gambling took place here

In all things, Henrietta seemed to defy convention. Not only did she manage to formally separate from her husband (something practically unheard of in those times) she took a masculine approach to her building. The Palladian style was considered a logical, mathematical, and thereby male province. Henrietta took the basic concepts and made them her own.  The superbly balanced rooms should have been left with with minimal decoration. However, Henrietta thumbed her nose at this rule of style and cluttered shelves with her collections of blue and white china porcelain.

I was surprised by the small rooms and narrow doorways in the house. How, one wonders, did Henrietta get through them in her skirts? She must have turned sideways! We started the tour downstairs, taking in the coolly elegant hall. Now relatively empty, it would have been crowded with people and gaming tables.  Next, there was a beautiful little breakfast parlor – too cramped for much company, but you can imagine Henrietta sitting their sipping tea. But my favourite place on the bottom floor was the magnificent room hung with fashionable India paper (and not just because there were coffee and biscuits waiting for me there. This room cost Henrietta a fortune to have installed (and English heritage a fortune to restore!).  The hand-painted paper would have been imported from China by the East India company and stuck to a silk canvas with a mixture of flour and water.  A painfully slow, highly skilled task to accomplish. Apparently, Henrietta quarreled with the workmen over the bill. It seems her famously meek and gentle temper had frayed by the time she finally escaped court life!

The India paper

Once we mounted the mahogany staircase, we found ourselves in the entertaining rooms. The first floor – the piano nobile -  was where the parties took place. Right at the centre is the Great Room: a  masterpiece of white panelling and gilt detail. You can just imagine the literary Georgian circles in which Henrietta moved (she was friends with people such as John Gay, Jonathan Swift and Alexander Pope) flocking to this beautiful chamber. Today, the Great Room contains the house’s treasures: some of the few remaining items of furniture that belonged to Henrietta.

On the same floor we found the bedrooms of Henrietta and George Berkeley, her second husband. Berkeley had been Henrietta’s friend for some time before their marriage, and many believe they had a secret romance while still living under the roof of George II. Ironically, it was Berkeley, not her royal lover, who turned out to be Henrietta’s Prince Charming. Soon after leaving court, Henrietta scandalised society by marrying him in a private ceremony. Henrietta’s new husband was was younger than her and riddled with gout. Although contemporary gossips mocked the match, Henrietta was to finally find the happiness she so deserved.  The couple were deeply devoted to one another.

The Great Room

Interestingly,  the bedrooms were not considered “private” in Marble Hill. The entire house was made for entertaining. This is clear from the vividly coloured flock wallpaper and classical pillars that adorn Henrietta’s bedchamber. It was in here, in this stylish room, that she died peacefully in July 1767, having received Horace Walpole just a few hours before.

On the next floor was the gallery, designed for dancing and exercise. The wooden boards now creak with protest after 300 years of footsteps. The stairway up has a strange, flared banister which may have been designed to help ladies in their gowns. However, it remains so narrow and twisty that I had difficulty getting up there in my trainers and jeans! Here, we found the wedding portraits of Henrietta and George – looking surprisingly youthful and full of hope. I enjoyed imagining the happy couple arm in arm, taking a turn in the gallery on a rainy day.

I hope this little blog has given you some interest in Henrietta. I must stress, what I have written is a very a brief overview of her amazing life. I will be covering the twists and turns in more detail in my novel about Henrietta and Caroline of Ansbach, Mistress of the Court. In the meantime I would highly recommend a visit to Marble Hill to find out more! You can also have a peek in Hampton Court at The Secrets of the Royal Bedchamber exhibition. Here, you can see the apartments where Henrietta served her royal mistress and smell the rose water Caroline bathed in.

I always think it’s a shame that the guidebooks for Hampton Court (and I have all of them) don’t include pictures of the private Georgian apartments. What I wouldn’t give for nice photos of Caroline’s bathroom, oratory, bedroom and  private supper room! I’ve been told various things by the guides: that the Georgian apartments are normally unfurnished and closed to the public (which seems strange considering I went round there in September when they were very much furnished and open) and that the Georgians didn’t really like Hampton Court. Well, George II didn’t like it after Caroline died, but he certainly enjoyed it during her lifetime. He even built a whole new suite there in 1732 for his favourite son. I’ll be talking about the lavish parties thrown at Hampton Court during the summers of 1716 and 1717 on PBS’ The Secrets of Henry VIII’s Palace in July – don’t miss it! And if you are at Hampton Court, keep an eye out for some more Georgian treasures: Queen Charlotte’s state bed and Princess Amelia’s embroidered cushion. Simple exquisite! Sadly, no photos were allowed in the exhibition . . . you’ll just have to go see it for yourself.

The Georgian apartments

Update for the Georgian Series

CarolineofAnsbach

I thought I’d give you a little update on my writing progress and my plans for the Georgian series as it takes shape. I’ve been working on my novel of George IV,  A Forbidden Crown, for some time now. It’s come to the stage where I’ve decided it needs to be put aside for a few months to give me a fresh perspective. Ultimately, I think I will be splitting it into two separate novels: one telling the story of Maria Fitzherbert, the other following Caroline of Brunswick and Charlotte of Wales. This will give me adequate space to do these fascinating women justice and also give the novels a better pace. The problem with history is that it rarely follows the arcs you need for novel, especially when you are combining timelines! I still fully intend to write about George IV’s women so don’t panic – it just might be a little longer in coming.

In the meantime, I’m going to concern myself with Caroline of Ansbach and Henrietta Howard. These two women have swamped my imagination for so long now, I simply have to let them free on the page. I’m attending many talks and day trips with Historical Royal Palaces this year, most of which revolve around the court of George II. Coupled with that, I will be appearing on PBS this summer talking about Queen Caroline and her family at Hampton Court. It just seems so silly to put off this book when it’s what my heart wants to write. The story has everything: friendship, seduction, rivalry, women’s struggles in a man’s world, impossible husbands, damaged parent/child relationships . . . I’m still furiously thinking up a title – I’ll let you know when I have it.

I will soon be blogging about my visit to Henrietta’s house Marble Hill so keep your eyes peeled for more information about this truly remarkable lady. That reminds me: I also want to look into my family history. My mother was a Howard from Norfolk, just like Henrietta’s husband. I’d love it if I could find a link, however tenuous!

Henrietta_Howard

 

Hanoverian Mothers – Part 2

Charlotte, Princess of Wales

D0es loving children make you a good mother? It’s hard to tell. Acceptance of other people’s children may seem easy, but how do you cope with your own child; a tight knot of your hopes and fears, a strange mirror image of yourself – the good parts and the bad?  What do you do if the child resembles its other parent in practically every way, and you happen to hate that parent? The situation suddenly becomes very different.

Princess Caroline of Brunswick adored children, especially babies. Tales of her infatuation date back to her youth, when she lavished so much attention upon a poor young boy the village that he was suspected of being her bastard son. Caroline always defended herself: “Everybody must love something in this world. I think my taste is the most natural and whoever may find fault with it may do it or not.” She went on to say that she could never attach herself to dogs and birds like other women – it had to be babies. How strange, then, that this woman would turn out a spectacularly bad mother to her only child, using her as a pawn in her political games! How could she possibly explain herself?

There are a few points to consider. Firstly, we have to look at Caroline herself and the eccentricity of her character. When Lord Malmesbury visited Brunswick to bring her to England, he found the young Princess shallow of mind. He considered her overly affectionate, a friend to everyone, but  “incapable of any strong or lasting feeling”.  She was “caught by the first impression, led by the first impulse”. In fact, she was remarkably like a child herself – never thinking about what she said, trusting, reckless, fond of practical jokes. Her attraction to children probably stemmed from the fact they resembled her. Other people scolded her for her behaviour, but with children there was no need to pretend. This made her a wonderful playmate, but woefully ill-equipped to be a parent – particularly the parent of a young lady. What was more, Caroline had no experience of good parenting to fall back on. Her own childhood was punctuated by her parents’ quarrels. Her father, the Duke of Brunswick, was a distant, strict man often occupied with military campaigns or his mistress. Her mother, Princess of Augusta of England, was considered remarkably silly. Though she upbraided Caroline for flirting with young men and making a spectacle of herself, she didn’t provide much of an example. Distanced from her husband, she took to grumbling about Brunswick and seeking solace in religion. Lord Malmesbury noted that Caroline had no respect at all for her mother.

When Caroline came to England in 1795, these faults were all too clear to her prospective husband, Prince George.  He began to nurture a hatred for her so intense that he described her as a “monster” and a “vile fiend”.  Despite his clear reluctance, he managed to impregnate Caroline – perhaps actually on their wedding night – since a daughter was born to them exactly nine months after their marriage. From the start, it was clear that Caroline was not to be consulted about her own child. It was her mother-in-law, Queen Charlotte, who ordered the linen, specified the crib design. When the little girl was born, she was not named after her own mother, which was usual at this time; she was called Charlotte Augusta, after both her grandmothers. Even at these early stages, Caroline was being wheedled out of her life. Prince George, in a violent and probably alcohol-induced rage, wrote a Will shortly after Charlotte’s  birth. He was explicit that “The mother of this child, called the Princess of Wales, should in no way either be concerned in the education or care of the child . . . [it is] incumbent on me and a duty, both as a parent and a man, to prevent by all means the child’s falling into such improper and bad hands as hers”. Even though Caroline never saw this Will, the message was clear to her: Charlotte belonged to her father.

Caroline and Charlotte

Not one to be beaten, Caroline made sure she spent as much time as possible with her baby girl. She sat for hours in the nursery, chose lace for the little one’s frocks and joined the attendants when they took the child out for air. Even when she and George unofficially separated and she was given her own house, she was always backwards and forwards to visit her daughter. But George was out to thwart her. He objected to her time in the nursery and laid down rules for the servants: Caroline was only to be permitted a morning visit.

Little Charlotte was kept on a tight rein through her childhood, which was a surprising parenting method for her father to take. He himself had complained of a strict education and lack of affection from his father. But Prince George was turning out an awfully lot like King George. It must have been exciting, then, for the girl to take trips to her mother’s house on Blackheath. The drunken congas, the games, the ability to sit on a floor cross-legged and eat a raw onion would have seemed like Heaven. Where her father was distant and god-like, her mother was warm and affectionate. It is clear from anecdotes in Charlotte’s youth that she took after Caroline.: the impetuosity of snatching a tutor’s wig off and throwing it into the fire, the delight in winding servants up by refusing to close the doors, the reckless joy in shocking when she drove her governess hell-for-leather across a bumpy field and told the screaming lady there was “nothing like exercise”. But tragically for Charlotte, this likeness was to put her out of favor with her father.

To add another blow, this mother who Charlotte looked up to was soon finding distractions elsewhere. It seems that when children grew to a certain age, Caroline simply lost interest in them. It was not long before she was looking after little boys and girls on the heath who had sores on their faces and standing Godmother for abandoned babies. But of all her little protégées, there was one who would hurt Charlotte particularly: Willy Austin. In the autumn of 1802, Caroline ordered her servants to keep an eye out for a baby she could take to live in the house. Luck would have it that Sophia Austin turned up on her doorstep, her three-month-old son in tow, begging the Princess to help her husband back into work. The offer was soon made – and accepted – to take the baby off her hands.

Soon it was all about Willy. Caroline insisted on changing his clouts herself and having nursery paraphernalia around her. From contemporary reports, Willy was a spoilt brat. He was dangled over a table to pick his favourite sweetmeats, jamming his dirty little hands into everything and breaking plates. He caused such a fuss when a spider was in the room that an army of servants was unleashed with broomstick to get it off the ceiling and take it away. Charlotte hated him and resented being made to play with him. She had to sit by and watch herself eclipsed in her mother’s affections. Even worse, her father and his mistress Mrs Fitzherbert had also taken charge of a young child, Minnie Seymour, at about the same time. Each parent was finding a substitute for their unsatisfactory daughter.

From Caroline’s point of view, the adoption of Willy seems natural. She resented being kept out of her daughter’s life. Here, at last, was a child who was truly hers, to love and raise without restraint. Only, she didn’t do a particularly good job with Willy either. When he reached ten, she was already looking out for another baby. She let him sleep in her bedroom until he was about thirteen and then evicted him brusquely to admit her lover. She tried to provide for him in her Will but had squandered so much of his inheritance he only had £200 a year. He eventually died in a lunatic asylum in 1849. Ironically, Willy was also the catalyst of the “Delicate Investigation” into Caroline’s conduct. He was suspected of being her bastard son by either Sir Sidney Smith or Captain Mamby. Although Caroline encouraged the rumour and mixed it with one of her own – that Willy was the son of Prince Louis Ferdinand of Prussia, who she had smuggled into the country -  there was no truth to it. Willy was proven to be the son of the Austins. But Caroline hadn’t escaped. The Investigation put a deeper blot upon her character and led to even more limited access to Charlotte. The King, previously keen to champion Caroline’s rights to her daughter, saw her true colours and gave up his support. After all, this adopted child had only served to put her actual daughter further out of reach.

Caroline and Charlotte by Lawrence

Charlotte didn’t know the full extent of the charges against her mother until much later. She continued to heed the crowds in their constant cry: “Never desert your mother”. After all, didn’t her mother’s frequent letters to the newspapers harp upon how much she loved and missed her daughter? Wasn’t it natural to believe they were allies, united against her cruel father? It led Charlotte to a supreme act of courage: defying her father and fleeing a marriage she didn’t want to speed across London to her mother’s house. They would form an alliance, they would stand against her father, as they had always talked about. And yet suddenly Caroline was quiet, surprisingly circumspect. She encouraged Charlotte to return home, though she was kind enough to insist her beloved maid accompanied her. Charlotte’s bold gesture of confidence, her repeated insistence to her fiance that she could not marry him and leave her mother all alone in England, was met with a slap in the face. Just when Charlotte was giving up everything to take her mother’s side, she was betrayed. Caroline was planning to leave England and live on the Continent. “I am so hurt that I am very low”, poor Charlotte wrote. After an “indifferent” leave-taking, Caroline launched out across the ocean and left Charlotte to a fate of practical house-arrest. How could she do this to her only daughter?

Caroline’s attendants would insist that the repeated insults of George had finally overwhelmed her. She was mortally offended when Allied sovereigns visited England and completely ignored her. She wanted to live simply as Caroline, a free commoner. I suspect she also felt that she was doing Charlotte a favour by leaving. It was clear George would never love her while Caroline continued to torment him and she could see the strain on the poor child, constantly pulled between her parents. Perhaps to release the pressure, Caroline simply removed herself from the equation. Nevertheless, the action smacks of breath-taking selfishness. Charlotte would never fully forgive her, but it seems Caroline didn’t even notice she was hurting her child. In short, the action is typical of Caroline: rash, ill-considered and self-absorbed.

As Charlotte, by necessity, grew closer to her father, she began to find out more about her mother and her illicit lovers. She was shocked. The more she considered, the more she realised what Caroline truly was. She began to confess all the times Caroline had carried notes for her and encouraged her to make love to Captain Hesse – at one point, locking them in a bedroom and telling them to enjoy themselves. Though she would always have natural affection for, she could no longer respect Caroline. George unkindly suggested that Caroline had been trying to smirch Charlotte’s character to get revenge on him. I doubt Caroline would have had any such thought. As a young girl, she would have given anything to be locked up with a handsome officer for an hour. Her youth was full of thwarted flirtations and being kept separate for young men. She probably thought she was being a brilliant mother by setting Charlotte up with lover.

Charlotte

Although they wrote a little, Caroline and Charlotte never saw each other again. Charlotte was to die tragically in 1817, just twenty-one years old, in giving birth to a still-born son. Cruelly, Caroline had to find out about both her daughter’s marriage and death second-hand, like someone who had no connection to her. For all her faults, she didn’t deserve this. There was some motherly feeling left in her, despite it being at odds with her nature. Her eyes filled with tears when she left England and Charlotte’s death shook her to the core. She retreated into something like a stupor, plagued by headaches. She erected a monument in her garden to the memory of her lost daughter and described the loss as the “death warrant to her feelings”.  Surely these weren’t the signs of an indifferent mother.

I can’t defend Caroline’s mothering skills. She was undoubtedly ill-suited to the job and far too selfish to be the rock that her bewildered  daughter so sorely needed. But although many of her statements of love and affliction were carefully manipulated to rile up her husband’s enemies, they were not devoid of truth. She did love Charlotte and was proud of her. Sadly, in a world where the child belonged to its father, and in Charlotte’s case physically resembled her father, the relationship could never flourish. Caroline would never have the emotional depth of her husband or her daughter. While I must condemn her as a bad parent, I don’t think she was an unloving one. It was just a great tragedy that her love was never fixed and selfless. Had she been able to show Charlotte the scale of affection that her eventual husband, Leopold, did, the poor girl’s life might have been very different indeed.

 

Hanoverian Mothers: Part 1

Charlotte with George and Frederick

Much has been made of relationship between the Hanoverian Kings and their heirs to the throne. Petty jealousies and bitter feuds tore at the bonds between father and eldest son until, in some cases, they were virtually non-existent. With my interest in women’s history, I can’t help asking: what part did the mothers play in this? Did they stir the pot of broiling distrust or did they try to act as mediators? My new blog series, Hanoverian Mothers, will explore this.

I’m starting off with the relationship of Queen Charlotte with her son, George, Prince of Wales, later to become Prince Regent and George IV. I frequently get asked if Charlotte loved her son enough. Why didn’t she stand up for her children more? Some mistaken summaries of Charlotte’s life even assert that she hated her eldest son! Whilst theirs was certainly a complicated relationship, Charlotte and Prince George were devoted to one another throughout most of their lives. Sadly, their exalted positions in society put an unbearable strain on this natural love.

From the start, Charlotte was delighted with George, who was not only her first son but first child. At only eighteen years of age, she had produced an heir to the English throne and secured the Hanoverian succession. She had a life-size wax model made of him, which she kept on a satin cushion under a bell-jar. As he grew, she enjoyed his quick childish wit and gift for mimicry. However, her control over him was not to last for long. Sons belonged to the father and were encouraged to be amongst men once they were “breeched” – that is, they put off the girlish gowns and skeleton suits of infancy and wore the outfits of a miniature gentleman. At the tender age of 7, George and his brother Frederick were put into the hands of their male governors.

Although Charlotte and George III were ‘modern’ parents who had their children inoculated against the smallpox and embraced Rousseau’s ideas of children growing up with nature, simple diets and simple clothing, their theories were to backfire on them. They had planned the perfect education, but it was naive and stifled their boys. Education has to be fitted to the individual child, and by this point, Charlotte and George III had many of them. Indeed, even if Charlotte had been allowed a closer interest in Prince George’s education, it is doubtful she would have had time. Between constant pregnancies and arranging the tutelage of her daughters, she didn’t get to see her children half as often as she wished. She bitterly complained in her letters of only being allotted two days with them a week. By the time her three youngest daughters came up through the ranks, she had lost her initial enthusiasm for shaping their minds. Consequently, compared to the eldest three, Mary, Sophia and Amelia were neglected.

This being the case, it wasn’t surprising that the boy George developed “duplicity” and a “habit of not telling the truth.”  This trait was to last his life long and no whipping would get it out. What might now be seen as a quick mind, vivid imagination and talent as an actor were repressed. Without further investigation, all George’s parents knew was that he was a liar and they were appalled. I’m not a mother, but I observe and I have an imagination. I’ve often seen the stress and amazement when a child isn’t turning out to be quite what its parents expected. Each child is born with its own personality and interests and you can only encourage what’s in them. They will not necessarily be a “mini-me” and share their parents hobbies, no matter how hard you try to push your mathematician son into the football team you loved so much as a boy. While a family of lower status may have been able to accept this, it was something a King and Queen could not ignore. This son was to be their legacy, to carry on all their plans and uphold what they had worked so hard to achieve. Had George been a younger son, he may have been let off a bit more lightly, or just ignored as several of his disappointing younger brothers were. Unluckily for George, his every move was inspected under a microscope.

Charlotte with George and Frederick in costume

Charlotte wrote to her son with advice. It is notable that some of the younger sons, who were later neglected abroad and never heard from the King, always got a letter from Charlotte. Here is what she wrote to George in August 1770:

I recommend unto you to fear God; a duty that must lead to all the rest with ease, as His assistance . . .will be your guide through every action of life. Abhor all vice . . . look upon yourself as obliged to set good examples. Disdain all flattery – it will corrupt your manners and render you contemptible before the world. Do justice unto everybody and avoid partiality. . . Love and esteem those that are about you. Confide in and act with sincerity towards them . . . Treat nobody with contempt . . . Be charitable to everyone, not forgetting your meaner servants.  Don’t use them with indifference; rather pity them that they are obliged to serve . . . you should not think yourself above doing good to them. The contrary will make you appear vain and vanity is the root of all vice . . . Lastly I recommend unto you the highest love, affection and duty towards the King. Look upon him as a friend. . . Try to imitate his virtues and look upon everything that is in opposition to that duty as destructive to yourself.

Rather high concepts for an eight-year-old to swallow! However, much as this looks like a lot of pressure to heap upon a young boy, it has to be remembered that George III himself was set equal, if not greater expectations in living up to the memory of his father, who never became King. Moreover, the letter shows a mother’s insight into the young George’s character – flattery and vanity were indeed to be his failings, and he was to get into serious hot-water by not obeying the King.

The King is the sticking point in this mother-son relationship. Charlotte had a natural preference for George, but his father preferred Frederick. It is interesting to read the Queen was “rather too formal with her children – especially the Duke of York (Frederick)”. One wonders if this was an unconscious snub of Daddy’s favourite. But other than these small slights, there was little she could do. With such a large family, the old rule of “Don’t contradict me in front of the children” became all the more vital. Charlotte and George III had to appear as a united front – and besides, Charlotte saw it as her duty to obey her husband, even in things her own judgement didn’t approve of. If she failed to argue her son’s case at first because of duty and timidity, she couldn’t make up for it in later life – by that time, George III had started to suffer from bouts of madness and it was feared any contradiction would bring a fresh one on.

It is interesting to see, though, that despite Charlotte’s limitations, George always went to her first. When in trouble over his affair with Madame Von Hardenburg, he flung himself at Charlotte’s feet and confessed all. When he saw his hated bride, Caroline of Brunswick, for the first time and suffered a bitter disappointment, his words were “I am going to the Queen”. He continued to send her appealing letters and share his agony throughout his unhappy marriage.

Despite all this, there was at least a year when mother and son could truly be said to hate one another. This was during the fateful Regency crisis of 1788-1789. As his father descended further into madness, George’s attitude changed from one of concern and duty to indecent excitement at the prospect of getting a throne. This was something Charlotte could not forgive. She urged him to wait and allow his father to recover – wise words, as it turned out – but George saw her as deluded and another barrier between him and his dreams. His behaviour grew cruel – he took the King’s jewels from her, separated her from his father and stopped paying her the customary courtesy of kissing her hand. Both mother and son were subject to paranoia; George became convinced his mother wanted the Regency for herself and was trying to destroy him, while Charlotte thought there were spies around her eager to report to the papers. It took Charlotte a lot of time, after the King’s recovery, to swallow this betrayal of her dear boy. She snubbed him frequently and failed to send him invitations to parties as they were “only meant for people who support us”.

But that the breach did heal cannot be doubted.  It is fascinating to see just how much Charlotte’s actions differed when her husband was out of the picture – that was, he became permanently deranged and was kept locked away in Windsor. Previously a popular Queen, she forfeited her reputation with the people by backing all her son’s measures for the country. While others reviled him for enlarging the Pavilion at Brighton, Charlotte gave him a considerable lump sum of £50,000 towards what she considered marvelous improvements. Mother and son shared a passion for decoration and architecture, as well as a “fascinating manner” that enchanted people.

As the Queen aged and grew increasingly bitter, George and his daughter, another Charlotte, were all that could bring joy to her life. She lit up whenever she spoke of them. George’s sister Elizabeth was indebted to him for numerous interventions between Charlotte and her daughters – he was the only one she would listen to. “All is sunshine since your visit,” Elizabeth dutifully reported.  It was also at this stage that Charlotte began to mediate between George and his own daughter. While taking young Charlotte’s part over her allowance and marriage choice, she reminded her granddaughter that ” she ought to look upon her father as the only source of happiness and that it was her duty to obey him everything” words that echoed the letter she wrote to George himself at age eight.

When George’s daughter died tragically young in 1818, his mother was there to support him again. She had lost three children and knew what a blow it was. “As I always share in  your prosperity most sincerely, so do I most deeply feel your present loss and misery,” she wrote. She tried to comfort him with the thought he had allowed his daughter to marry the man of her choice and be happy.Whether he would have done so without Charlotte’s influence is questionable.

It is very fitting that when Charlotte died a year later, she was holding her beloved George’s hand. Her daughter Elizabeth, who knew her best, wrote to George “No parent was ever more wrapt up in a child than she was in you, and I firmly believe she would with pleasure have sacrificed her life for you”. Poor George, grieving again after losing his daughter the previous year, was unable to bring himself to leave London for a month. He described his feelings : “the utmost extent of the bitterest anguish in the deepest recess (of his heart)”. He was “incapacitated for everything”.

These final years, in my opinion, show the true relationship between mother and son. Who could say, having considered the evidence, that Charlotte didn’t love her son?

Coming later in the series:

Caroline of Ansbach – Why did she hate Frederick so much?

Augusta, Princess of Wales – Pushy parent or model mother?

Caroline of Brunswick – How could she leave her daughter?

Meet Diane Scott Lewis

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It’s always so exciting to meet others who share my love of the Georgian era! Here’s my lastest interview with the wonderful Diana Scott Lewis.

1) Explain why the period of the eighteenth century is important and tell us why we should want to read about it.

This era was a time of social and political upheaval, with revolutions in America and then France. The common man (and woman) was insisting on being heard. England feared their own revolution and reforms for the poor were at first suppressed. Crop failures drove people to desperate means—such as requesting to be paid in bread. Women started demanding rights, and had more freedom before the stodginess of the Victorian age. The Georgian period brimmed with excitement.

2) Who is your favourite eighteenth century personality?

Mary Wollstonecraft is one of my favorites. A feminist before it became popular, she questioned the inadequate education of girls in her book, Thoughts on the Education of Daughters—which I read in its original eighteenth century script! And she advocated women’s rights in her Vindication of the Rights of Woman. She argued that women weren’t inferior to men, they just lacked proper education. Mary was a visionary who wasn’t appreciated until feminism rose again at the turn of the twentieth century.

3) Share a quirky fact from your research?

Women wore no underpants during this era! Can you imagine donning a chemise, a corset, and a few petticoats, then the gown, but leaving other important areas uncovered?

4) One of historical romance’s hardest questions – Jane Austen or Georgette Heyer?

They were both influential writers, but I think Jane Austen is more popular today given the many TV shows and movies made from her novels. I admit I’ve only read two Heyer books, and while I enjoyed them, Austen seems more relevant with her stories of manners and social mores among ordinary people.
5) Tell us about Betrayed Countess.

This novel is a re-release of my debut book, The False Light, which earned an accolade of “Simply brilliant” from the Historical Novel Society. Though branded a romance by the publisher, it is more an adventure, with plenty of historical detail, no formula, and no happy ending. Here is a blurb:

Forced from France to England during the French Revolution, Bettina Jonquiere toils in poverty, finds love with a notorious squire and is threatened by ruthless revolutionaries.

The sequel is also available at Amazon: Without Refuge.

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6) What will you be working on next?

I’m polishing another novel set in eighteenth century Cornwall, England. A historical mystery called The Apothecary’s Widow, set in 1781.

7) Can you recommend some other books, fiction and non-fiction, set in your period?

 Midnight Fires: A Mystery with Mary Wollstonecraft, by Nancy Means Wright is a book I reviewed—and enjoyed—for the Historical Novel Society.

Dr. Johnson’s London, by Liza Picard, is a great non-fiction resource, as well as,

Daily Life in Eighteenth Century England, by Kirstin Olsen.

8) Girly question – if you could design and make your perfect eighteenth century outfit, what would it be like?

Though I write pre-Regency stories, my perfect outfit would be a high-wasted Regency, or Empire, gown in burgundy, with flowing skirt and short, puffed sleeves. And of course, I’d insist on underwear.

For more information on Diane and her books, visit http://www.dianescottlewis.org.

You can also buy Betrayed Countess and Without Refuge here.

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An Interview with Maria Grace

All the Appearance of Goodness

Following on from my interview with Regina Jeffers, here’s another historical fiction author for you to meet! Ladies and gentlemen, I present the lovely Maria Grace.

1)  Explain why the Regency period is important and tell us why we should want to read about it.

The Regency is an interesting era.  Technically it lasted only about 9 years, with the Regency of George IV. Many consider a wider period, from 1788-1830, the Regency era because it represents a relatively cohesive period in history. In France, the period was known as ‘Empire’ and in America, the ‘Federal’ era.

The period bridged the gap between the slow paced, non-industrialized 18th century and the industrial revolution of the 19th century. It was a time of rapid social change and contrasts, which make it fascinating to read and write about.

2) Who is your favourite Regency personality?

Sir John Fielding (1721-1780) actually died just before the start of the Regency era, but he is one of the most fascinating personalities of the 18th century to me.  He was an English magistrate and social reformer of the 18th century. He was also the younger half-brother of novelist, playwright and chief magistrate Henry Fielding. Though blinded in a navy accident at the age of 19, John set up his own business and, in his spare time, studied law with Henry. He became his brother’s assistant in 1750 and was instrumental in the formation of the first police force, the Bow Street Runners. He also established the basis for the first police criminal records department. He was active in crime prevention and youth employment and assisted in the foundation of the Asylum for Orphan Girls.  His life helped inspired one of the main characters in my next novel.
3) Share a quirky fact from your research?

In Regency England, shaking hands was considered rather intimate.  You did not shake hands with an acquaintance, only with people you were close to and ladies did not shake hands with men unless they were engaged or close to being so. Unfortunately, I didn’t discover this early enough on and I ended up needing to do a fair amount of rewriting because of it.
4) One of historical romance’s hardest questions:  Jane Austen or Georgette Heyer?

 Jane Austen without a doubt. I love her social commentary.
5) Tell us about All the Appearance of Goodness  

I just released All the Appearance of Goodness, part three of the Given Good Principles series. It is a Jane Austen inspired piece that explores how the events of Pride and Prejudice might have been different had Darcy and Elizabeth been able to follow the ‘good principles’ they had been given. They meet each other with considerably less pride and prejudice, but other challenges test their principles along the way.
6) What will you be working on next?

The real question is which one? I have 6 works in progress right now.  I have another Austenesque piece finished and waiting for final edits. This is the piece I mentioned earlier with the character inspired by John Fielding.

One more Austenesque piece is three quarters through the rough draft. But probably the next thing I will work on is my science fiction series.  The underlying idea for that was: what might it look like if Regency era culture and mores occurred in a technologically advanced, space-faring society. My hero and heroine are from vastly different social classes but must come together to stop their version of Napoleon from conquering their home worlds and peoples.
7) Can you recommend some other books, fiction and non fiction, set in your period?

Of course, anything by Jane Austen, but her book Lady Susan, is a guilty pleasure of mine.  It is almost like watching a modern reality show, complete with a villainess we love to hate.

If anyone is interested in it, I offer a free download of the book to my newsletter subscribers on my website.


8) Girly question – if you could design and make your perfect Regency outfit, what would it be like?

I’m actually hoping to do this yet. It’s been a while since I dragged out the sewing machine, but I figure if I could manage my own wedding dress, I can probably manage a Regency gown.  I just need a good six months with nothing else on the schedule!

I’d love to do something in a rich red, rather than Regency white, long sleeves since I’m always cold, and trimmed with pleats and lace. I’d bead the bodice in a floral motif and accent it with silver or gold embroidery. The skirt would have a modest train with a rich embroidered floral pattern in scallops around the skirt. A soft woolen shawl, embroidered to match would be necessary.  A silk turban, accented with pearls and a few small feathers would finish the outfit.

Thanks so much for having me today!

Maria Grace

You can buy All the Appearance of Goodness for your Kindle here or for your Nook here

Connect with Maria on Facebook at facebook.com/AuthorMariaGrace and follow her on Twitter @WriteMariaGrace!

Prinny’s Women

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As Prince of Wales, Prince Regent and finally King George IV, one thing was certain: George Augustus Frederick liked his women. Thanks to Cruikshank’s caricatures and popular legend, we have the image of lecherous, womanizing prince embedded in our minds.  But just how many women was George – how shall we put it – intimately acquainted with? And how on earth did he avoid contracting a venereal disease with his track record?

In biographies of George, you will come across the ladies I call the big five: official mistresses who made it into the history books. Here is a summary.

Mary Robinson

1) Mary Robinson. An actress, unhappily married, who caught George’s attention playing the role of Perdita in Shakespeare’s A Winter’s Tale. His wild love letters to her were signed in the name of the role’s hero, Florizel. A romantic and slightly vain young lady, Mary always cherished her connection with the prince and kept his portrait into old age. But more than George himself – who she only managed to meet on a few, short, breathless occasions -  Mary relished the style in which he set her up. She was shrewd and managed to make the prince come good on his promises when he finally tired of her. Her imprint on the history of George IV is mainly financial – he had to ask his father for help when he realised how much he had promised her, and she received a considerable annuity from the royal coffers for her brief “services”. There’s a lot more to Mary than her affair with the prince, however, and I would highly recommend Paula Byrne’s biography of her. In historical fiction, she has appeared in Jean Plaidy’s Perdita’s Prince and I understand Freda Lightfoot’s next book will be about her.

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2) Maria Fitzherbert. I – and Maria herself – would debate the term “mistress” when it came to her relationship with George. He married her before a priest, although the ceremony was considered null and void in law due to the Royal Marriages Act. George could not marry without the permission of his father or parliament – permission which would never be granted, because the woman of his choice was Catholic. As I covered in my previous post, there were many reasons the English were adverse to Catholics near the throne, but the main obstacle in George’s case was that  marriage to a person of this religion excluded him from inheriting the throne. As such, he conveniently “forgot” this marriage when it suited him. However, the Catholic church and even the Pope himself declared the union to be binding, which explains why poor Maria continually returned to George when he summoned her, despite much provocation.  I don’t want to give away too much here because Maria is a heroine in A Forbidden Crown, but here is an old post about her from my early research. Two great biographies, each with a different approach to this complicated woman, were particularly helpful: one by James Munson and one by Valerie Irvine.

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3) Lady Jersey As a rival to both Mrs Fitzherbert and Queen Caroline, Lady Jersey is the villain of my piece. The actual woman wasn’t all bad, but she certainly wasn’t someone I’d pick as a friend. She was famously described as a serpent, a lady who was not happy unless she had a rival to torment. Married to an older but fashionable peer, she was already a grandmother by the time she took up with George. Her influence over him was a key factor in breaking up his relationship with Mrs Fitzherbert (the first time round!) and she made Caroline’s early married life a misery. It is often said that Lady Jersey persuaded George to marry Caroline, having picked her out on purpose as a wife he would hate. Supposedly, she thought animosity towards his wife would secure her position as mistress. However, we don’t have any proof of this, or the other allegation that she helped smuggle copies of Caroline’s incriminating letters to the Queen. Whatever this fashionable beauty’s sins, she was amply punished by the hatred of the common people, who took the side of their princess. A good blog post (not mine!) on Lady Jersey can be found here.

Lady Hertford

4) Lady Hertford A haughty Tory matriarch, not much to look at, Lady Hertford seemed an unlikely match for George. But his devotion to her was undoubted, driving him to fits of tears and days locked up in his room refusing to eat when she initially rejected his advances. It has been argued that Lady Hertford probably didn’t play a sexual role in George’s life – she and her family were there as bosom buddies and companions. Whether she granted the “last favours” or not, Lady Hertford must have persuaded George she returned his love, even if her marriage prevented her acting upon it. Either way, George was obsessed with the family and unhappy when out of their company. Rather cruelly, Lady Hertford used Maria to cover her reputation, making sure she was present when they met so no gossip got out. But Maria was there under duress: Lady Hertford had it in her power to take away her adopted daughter – a thing which Maria would do anything to prevent. However, George’s continual mania for the Hertfords did eventually lead to his second and final break with his patient Catholic wife.

Lady Conyngham

5) Lady Conyngham George’s last mistress made no secret of her motives – at least not to her friends. She was in it for the power and the money. As George’s health deteriorated, she found herself bored with him and is recorded as departing Windsor after his death with “wagon-loads of treasure”. However, she has often been underestimated by historians. Though she came from what was regarded a “low” background at the time, she was by no means stupid and actively pushed George towards Catholic Emancipation. George was not her first lover, but he was certainly her greatest triumph. With her ambitious husband, she managed to see many dreams come true for the family and their children thanks to her “services”. However, accounts of her time with George are tinged with sadness. We hear of him constantly kissing her, staring at her dewy-eyed all through his Coronation and other such foolish marks of devotion. He was besotted, but she was clearly indifferent.  Perhaps he deserved such treatment after all the women he had disappointed over the years, but I do feel sorry for the elderly, doting George.

Although these five were the main influences in George’s life, there are countless others. He reputedly seduced one of his mother’s ladies-in-waiting, attempted to start an affair with his sisters’ subgoverness (she was far too sensible to say yes), had two affairs with Elizabeth Armistead, who was later to marry his friend Charles Fox, and nearly broke up the marriage of a foreign ambassador. Amongst his female friends, he attempted but failed to take up with the Duchess of Devonshire, her sister and Madame de Lieven in turn. He was married to Caroline and although he hated her, clearly slept with her at least once to produce his heir Princess Charlotte. In my notes I have so many names of women he dallied with: Lady Bamfylde, Mrs Clare, Lady Melbourne, Mrs Johnstone, Mrs Crouch, Lady Archer, Miss Paget, Harriet Wilson, Mrs Crole, Mrs Davies, Grace Dalrymple Eliot.

It would appear, on paper, that George was a heartless seducer. The strange thing was, he genuinely believed himself desperately in love each time over. He had frenzies over women, falling dangerously ill with despair if he couldn’t get his way. He would weep copious tears and promise them the world. With such a strange and self-destructive compulsion, his life was ultimately a very lonely one. For all the women who had been happy to take his money, none were by his death-bed; only his faithful first wife, Maria, had written to him and her letter remained under his pillow. It has been suggested that George had mother issues, which led to his preference for managing, older women. While his relationship with Queen Charlotte wasn’t easy, I don’t feel it can adequately explain his behaviour, and I will discuss this fully in a later post. But isn’t it sad to think that a young man who started out so handsome and with so much promise ended alone, discarded, having alienated all the women who had ever given him a piece of their heart? He wanted to be loved so desperately – yet he betrayed that love when he got it.  He was, indeed, a complicated man to involve yourself with!

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An Interview with Regina Jeffers

Clearly, I love the Georgian and Regency eras. But so do many other people, and, excitingly, authors! I’m quizzing my historical fiction friends and giving them the chance to tell you about their fabulous work – I do hope you enjoy it. One of the very first up is the wonderful Regina Jeffers.

Regina

Why is the Regency Period important and why should we want to read about it?

The Regency marked the beginning of the Britannia Pax, a period of relative peace in the Europe and the world. From the time of the end of the Napoleonic Wars (1815) to the beginning of World War I (1914), the British Empire controlled the key maritime trade routes. During this period, the British Empire became the largest empire of all time. In this era of “peace,” the British Empire provided services such as the suppression of piracy and the elimination of slavery. During the early years of the 19th Century, England’s economic and social countenance changed forever. England moved swiftly from the cottage industries to the beginnings of the Industrial Revolution. The time saw the rise of the merchant middle class. Of course, social class held tight to its traditions, but the merchant class was the backbone of the nation and could not be denied.

The British dominated India, the West Indies, and the countries in the area of the present day Persian Gulf, and built its wealth and power with each acquisition. London became the most prosperous city in Europe. The years of the Regency saw a complete revolution in dress for both men and women. Commerce and industry fluctuated, but overall, greater wealth was known. Technological innovations affected the means of production. By 1815, Britain was an industrial nation without any real competition.

Who is your favorite Regency Era personality?

I am certain most people who know me would think that I would respond with the name of “Jane Austen” for this question. After all, I have written eight Austen-inspired novels, but that answer is too predictable for my nature. Unfortunately, other than Austen, I cannot say I favor one of the Regency “personalities” over another. I have a tendency to spend my leisure time research with those of the Royal Court. For a long time, I have thought of mapping out the relationships of George III’s many children, along with the princes’ and princesses’ families, lovers, etc. Of late, I have been reading passages on Harriette Wilson, the courtesan par excellence of the Regency. (In June 2012, BBC Radio 4 series Classic Serial by Ellen Dryden adapted Harriette’s memories for broadcast. Harriet’s book, Publish and be Damn’d: The Memoirs of Harriette Wilson was an instantaneous bestseller in 1825.) The list of Harriette’s lovers would rival Debrett’s list of the nobility. I hold no intention of writing a novel about Harriette, but I am fascinated by the way she conducted her life in a time when women had few rights.

Share a quirky fact from your research.

A Scottish legend brings us the gruesome tale of Sawney Bean. Bean was the head of an incestuous cannibalistic family. For some five and twenty years in the 15th Century, the Beans robbed and murdered unsuspecting travelers along the Ayrshire/Galloway coast. Reportedly, the Bean family lived in a sea cave close to Ballantrae on Bennane head in Ayshire. The tale appears in horrific detail in “Historical and Traditional Tales Connected with the South of Scotland” by John Nicholson (1843).

Supposedly, Bean and his wife killed and then ate their victims. Their family grew to 46 sons, daughters, and grandchildren, all who lived in a watery cave. Much to the horror of coastal communities, bones and skulls often washed ashore after the Beans disposed of their “leftovers.” King James IV reportedly led the mob, which searched for the Beans after a botched attack by the family. Finally caught, the Beans were taken to Edinburgh to meet a barbaric execution. The execution was a slow one: the men bled to death after their hands and legs were cut off, and the women were burned alive after they were forced to watch the execution of the men. John Nicholson tells us about the execution: “…they all died without the least sign of repentance, but continued cursing and venting the most dreadful imprecations to the very last gasp of life.”

One of historical romances hardest questions remains: Georgette Heyer or Jane Austen?

Obviously, this is an easy question for me: Jane Austen. Austen wrote stories of ordinary life. Her subject was common and ordinary, and she rendered it in minute detail. I am not criticizing Heyer. In truth, I have never studied Heyer’s works in detail. My opinion is based purely on my life-long love of all things Austen.

Tell us about your current projects.

In February, I brought out two Regency era novellas in one volume. His: Two Regency Novellas brings together two of my favorite minor characters. Lawrence Lowery is the older brother of one of the main characters in my Realm Series. He has a brief scene in A Touch of Velvet, another in A Touch of Cashémere, and a final one in A Touch of Grace. “His American Heartsong” is Lowery’s story. The second story in the volume is “His Irish Eve.” It is the story of Adam Lawrence, the future Earl of Greenwall. Adam is a regular in my stories with multiple walk throughs. He was given a major role in The Phantom of Pemberley. At the end of Phantom, he releases his mistress Cathleen Donnell. “His Irish Eve” brings us full circle some six years later.

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“His American Heartsong”

Lawrence Lowery has been the dutiful elder son his whole life, but when his father Baron Blakehell arranges a marriage with the insipid Annalee Dryburgh, Lowery must choose between his responsibility to his future estate and the one woman who makes sense in his life. By Society’s standards, Arabella Tilney is completely wrong to be the future Baroness–she is an American hoyden, who demands that Lowery do the impossible: Be the man he has always dreamed of being. (A Novella from the Realm Series)

“His Irish Eve”

When the Earl of Greenwall demands his only son, Viscount Stafford, retrieve the viscount’s by-blow, everything in Adam Lawrence’s life changes. Six years prior, Lawrence had released his former mistress Cathleen Donnell from his protection, only to learn in hindsight Cathleen was with child. Lawrence arrives in Cheshire to discover not only a son, but also two daughters, along with a strong-minded woman, who fascinates him from the moment of their first encounter. Aoife Kennice, the children’s caregiver, is a woman impervious to Adam’s usual tricks and ruses as one of England’s most infamous rakes. But this overconfident lord is about to do battle: A fight Adam must win–a fight for the heart of a woman worth knowing.

On March 12, Ulysses Press will release my latest Austen-inspired novel. It is another cozy mystery based on Pride and Prejudice. It is set some six months into the Darcys’ marriage. The Mysterious Death of Mr. Darcy promises to leave you guessing.

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The Mysterious Death of Mr. Darcy

Fitzwilliam Darcy is devastated. The joy of his recent wedding has been cut short by the news of the sudden death of his father’s beloved cousin, Samuel Darcy. Elizabeth and Darcy travel to Dorset, a popular Regency resort area, to pay their respects to the well-traveled and eccentric Samuel. But this is no summer holiday. Danger bubbles beneath Dorset’s peaceful surface as strange and foreboding events begin to occur. Several of Samuel’s ancient treasures go missing, and then his body itself disappears. As Darcy and Elizabeth investigate this mystery and unravel its tangled ties to the haunting legends of Dark Dorset, the legendary couple’s love is put to the test when sinister forces strike close to home. Some secrets should remain secrets, but Darcy will do all he can to find answers—even if it means meeting his own end in the damp depths of a newly dug grave.

With malicious villains, dramatic revelations and heroic gestures, The Mysterious Death of Mr. Darcy will keep Austen fans turning the pages right up until its dramatic conclusion.

What will you be working on next?

For White Soup Press, I have begun writing book 5 of the Realm series (The Scandal of Lady Eleanor, A Touch of Velvet, A Touch of Cashémere, and A Touch of Grace). A Touch of Mercy is tentatively scheduled for an early May 2013 release. A Touch of Love will follow in October. The series will finish next February with the release of a second anthology entitled “Hers” and will feature the solution to where the emerald can be found.

Ulysses Press and I are developing a new Austen-inspired for an early 2014 release.

What other books (either fiction or nonfiction) could you recommend, which speak of the Regency Period?

Kristine Hughes’s The Writer’s Guide to Everyday Life in Regency and Victorian England

Daniel Pool’s What Jane Austen Ate and Charles Dickens Knew

Amanda Vickery’s Behind Closed Doors: At Home in Georgian England

John Summerson’s Georgian London

Mary Balogh’s Bedwyn Series: Slightly Married; Slightly Wicked; Slightly Scandalous; Slightly Tempted; Slghtly Sinful; and Slightly Dangerous

Louise Allen’s A Most Unconventional Courtship; “An Earl Beneath the Mistletoe” from Snowbound Wedding Wishes; The Notorious Mr. Hurst

Girly Question: If you could design and make your perfect Regency outfit, what would it be like?

I am not a fashion person. Although I have watched every season, I have never picked the winner of Project Runway, so this was a difficult question for me. I have several Regency day dresses, which I use for presentations, etc., but for this question I wanted some “classier.” Therefore, I did an Internet search.

I particularly liked this white mull gown from the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It is from 1810 and is made from white mull with silver tinsel embroidery. The sleeves are gathered and designed to set off the slope of the shoulder. The waist is high and sports a knotted cord, which is accented with tassels. The “V” neckline is designed to accentuate a woman’s full bosoms.

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Wow, cannibal Scots and the murder of a Mr Darcy! To find out more about Regina and buy her books, use the following links.

Website  www.rjeffers.com

Blogs  – Every Woman Dreams  http://reginajeffers.wordpress.com/

         Austen Authors   http://austenauthors.net/

                    English Historical Fiction Authors  http://englishhistoryauthors.blogspot.com/

Twitter  @reginajeffers https://twitter.com/reginajeffers

Facebook  https://www.facebook.com/pages/Regina-Jeffers-Author-Page/141407102548455

Purchase Links:

The Mysterious Death of Mr. Darcy

Amazon  http://www.amazon.com/The-Mysterious-Death-Mr-Darcy/dp/1612431739/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1358967571&sr=8-1&keywords=the+mysterious+death+of+mr.+darcy

Books-a-Million  http://www.booksamillion.com/p/Mysterious-Death-Mr-Darcy/Regina-Jeffers/9781612431734?id=5581760318252

Barnes & Noble  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-mysterious-death-of-mr-darcy-regina-jeffers/1112705054?ean=9781612431734&itm=1&usri=the+mysterious+death+of+mr.+darcy

Ulysses Press   http://ulyssespress.com/?books=mysterious-death-of-mr-darcy

His: Two Regency Novellas

Amazon  http://www.amazon.com/His-Regency-Romances-Regina-Jeffers/dp/061575774X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1359572029&sr=8-1&keywords=his%3A+two+regency+novellas

Kindle  http://www.amazon.com/His-Two-Regency-Romances-ebook/dp/B00B6QTTL8/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1359402822&sr=8-1&keywords=His%3A+Two+Regency+Novellas

Nook  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/his-regina-jeffers/1114234802?ean=2940015971132&itm=1&usri=his%3a+two+regency+novellas

Kobo  http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/His/book-_SMXzWmrU0OkNjT4HatqHg/page1.html?s=Adqex3mxTE2rVgvyNAn2hQ&r=4

On Tyrants

George III coronation

As you’ve probably discovered from my endless whining on Twitter and Facebook, I’ve been laid up with a slipped (or to be more medically correct “protruding”) disc in my lower spine.  This has left me with a lot of reading time and I’ve been working my way through my pile of historical fiction books. I’ve travelled into the times of Richard III (twice – getting a bit sick of him now if truth be told), Charles I and Henry VIII (yes, also a bit bored of him).  All these monarchs were described, at times, as tyrants. This got me to thinking about George III and the wording of the American Declaration of Independence: “a tyrant unfit to rule”. To be perfectly honest with you, I laughed out loud when I first read this.  My research had centered on George the man, the husband, the father described in letters between his daughters as “the angel King”.  To read of “Farmer George” written of like a scheming, cruel man seemed insane. But the more I thought about it, the more I realised there were elements of truth in the claim. Moreover, it got me wondering what exactly makes a tyrant.

To write from Queen Charlotte’s point of view in God Save the King, I had to be aware of, but not go into too much detail about the politics. Although Charlotte had a mind ready to engage with such issues, she was taught by her new English family to regard women dabbling in politics as “something akin to sin”.  This sounds a bit tyrannical, doesn’t it? There were of course reasons for this. Early in George III’s reign, his mother Augusta was accused of steering him with her reputed lover, Lord Bute. Petticoats and boots were paraded through the streets in protest against such interference in the business of the crown. Before Augusta came George III’s grandmother, Queen Caroline of Ansbach.   As I explained in my post about her, she was seen to be the real power behind her husband’s throne. Royal women in politics had caused quite enough problems for the English, thank you very much, and they didn’t want more of it.

The real issue was, as Lucy Worsley commented in her recent TV series about the Regency era, the role of the monarchy was in a state of flux. Gone were the days of the Divine Right of Kings, when monarchs were seen as half-man half-god, but we hadn’t yet reached a fully constitutional monarchy. As such, George III thought of himself as nothing but “a miserable sinner”, but in true Blues Brothers style, believed himself on a Mission from God. Both his father and mother had heaped a tremendous amount of pressure on him. To quote a letter from George III’s father:

Be always a blessing to your family and country. Retrieve the glory of the Throne. I shall have no regret never to have worn the Crown if you but fill it worthily. Convince the nation you are not only an Englishman born and bred, but you are also this by inclination.

As it happened, George’s father did pass away and miss the crown. We can only imagine that these instructions from a parent became something like a holy mantra for poor George after this time. He took on the role of father to his siblings. He liked to see himself as a father to his subjects, and became father to fifteen of his own children. Sadly, he had a tough love policy. Treating his rebelling American subjects as naughty children who needed correction certainly wasn’t a wise call, and he was to make similar mistakes in his own family. To his sons, George’s obstinate streak may well have seemed tyrannical. He forbid some to leave the country, denied others the chance to come back. He broke the marriage of his son Augustus, despite the birth of two children, deeming it illegal as it had been made without his consent.  Again, he had his reasons for most of these actions, but they were dealt with in a heavy-handed way. His Royal Marriages Act had been put in place to save the crown from the ill-repute it fell into when two of his brothers married beneath themselves – and one certainly lived to regret his imprudent match. He kept his heir, George IV, in the country to try to rebuild his reputation with his future subjects and prevent him chasing after Mrs Fitzherbert, whose Catholicism would have made (and later did make) her an unpopular connection for the prince. The sons he kept away from home, he supposedly did to protect them from George IV’s “contaminating influence.” A bit of a poor excuse if you ask me, and certainly a hard blow to the poor princes like Augustus who were yearning for home.

George’s downfall in this area was perhaps his failure to recognise others didn’t have the same iron sense of duty as he did. He put aside a great deal of personal feelings to do what he thought was right for the country and by God. He simply couldn’t understand when others failed to respond to the same lessons that had been dished out for him. It caused him tremendous trouble.  As a monarch, he was meant to be “of no party” but his inclinations were clearly Tory. This had been drilled into him by the ongoing dispute between his parents and grandparents. His grandparents were firmly Whig and had been so for many years – they also hated George III’s father, and, seemingly, George III himself on most occasions. To allow Whig principles to prevail must have seemed like sacrilege to the memory of his parents. Moreover, there was the person of Charles James Fox. Fox’s father had made an obscene profit out of the Seven Years War and both his sons were dissolute. They had drawn George III’s heir and hope for the future, George IV, into their world of vice and were staunch Whigs. Politics for George was therefore a battleground strewn with intense personal wounds and promises to dead parents.  Such feelings led to tyrannical acts such as lobbying the Lords and telling them whoever voted against him would be henceforth considered a personal enemy.

Another calamity befell George when his trusted Prime Minister, Pitt, urged a degree of Catholic emancipation. Not only was George afraid that riots would break out, as they did in 1780 over a similar subject, he had sworn at his coronation to uphold the Anglican church. Ironically, George was both sympathetic and friendly towards a number of Catholics, and didn’t seem to hold a grudge against them. But here again, his sense of duty and tortured conscience came into play and caused him to lose his Prime Minister, who resigned.

So was George III a tyrant? In some ways, I suppose he was, though it does help me, personally, to have these psychological insights into why he acted as he did. But I guess the same can be said of all tyrants, no matter how obscure their reasoning. But if George III was, indeed, the tyrant unfit to rule, it is ironic that in the later years of his reign he became the beloved symbol and talisman of all that was English and good. He was what the British held up and fought for in opposition to another “tyrant”, Napoleon Bonaparte. How strange history is!

 

 

Legacy – Augusta of Saxe Gotha

To mark the passing of Augusta of Saxe-Gotha, at this time in 1772, I’ve written a little piece of historical fiction. It’s entirely true that she insisted on getting up and dressed and having tea with her son and daughter-in-law mere hours before her death. This is how I imagine she felt. (Again, please do remember this piece of fiction, however small, is my copyright)

Augusta in 1754

The room swirled. Augusta fluttered her eyelashes and batted away the encroaching shadows. After years of fighting against hostile in-laws, ignorant rabbles and protesters who decapitated her effigy in the streets, she’d be damned if she’d give in now.

She groped across the table and wound her trembling finger through the delicate, porcelain handle of the tea-cup. It clattered against the saucer in protest.

‘Mama, I think you need to rest.’ George creased his eyebrows together in an expression that made him look heart-rendingly like his father. ‘Charlotte and I can come back tomorrow.’

Ah, my dear boy, but there won’t be a tomorrow. She had to play her part one last time. She would do it well.

‘Nonsense,’ she growled. It didn’t sound like her voice at all; guttural, beastly. She grimaced against the harsh rasp which tore at her throat.

Sitting opposite her, anxiously perched on their chairs, were her son and her daughter-in-law – the King and Queen of England. But they were awestruck, mere limp puppets in her presence. She had ruled them for so long, the thought of her passing was incomprehensible.

Or perhaps not. In the shrewd, sharp eyes of Charlotte, Augusta saw the germs of an emotion she had never expected from her: deep, heartfelt compassion. After all their rows, all their struggles to possess George’s heart, perhaps they were coming to an understanding at last. There was power, indomitable strength in the face of that Queen. Augusta prided herself on the fact she had forged it there. It had been a tough school, but Charlotte had reaped the benefits. Here was a woman who understood all, yet gave away nothing. One who knew her place. Knew, more pertinently, that Augusta was lolling against death’s door. Something in the set of her thin lips told Augusta she was already planning the months ahead: the burial, how to allay George’s grief.

With supreme effort, Augusta hauled the cup to her lips. A dark, Bohea tea hit her with its fragrance, while a slice of lemon floating on top added a citrus note. She couldn’t drink it. She couldn’t even swallow. It was like asking her to down a goblet of nails. She touched her lips to the porcelain and lapped gently, hoping it would suffice. A few drops of the liquid tumbled down onto her embroidered stomacher, where they spread like the cancer that was creeping through her, staining her insides.

‘Perhaps I will lay on the chaise longue. But do stay.’

Her wobbling legs held out just in time for her to collapse against the striped silk. A great, hacking cough erupted from her chest – a tunnel of scratchy fire that pushed the air from her lungs. She had the presence of mind to put a lace handkerchief to her lips and catch the spurt of blood, dark as garnets.

Poor George hovered over her, clutching at her numb hand. ‘What can I do? What can I fetch for you?’

Love swelled in her heart until it pushed away the pain of her disease. Dear George. Her slow, puny, mewling heir, not expected to live a week. Look at him now! Anointed and just the man his father wanted him to be. He would retrieve the glory of the crown, she had no doubt. True, her other sons had more wit, and Edward had been their darling, but George had the heart of gold. He would give of himself before others, adhere to duty like a shadow, sacrifice his heart and soul for what he thought was right. What she and Bute had taught him was right.

With Charlotte’s fingers dabbing lavender water on her temples and George grasping her hand, she allowed her eyes to close and lay, listening to the wheeze of her breath. Not long until she saw Frederick now. She gave a faint smile. Would he still be bickering with his parents in Heaven? She hoped he would be proud of her – his frail little child-bride who had worked to preserve his memory with heart and soul, fought to protect their children from the evils of this world, though with little success. Her daughter, her fallen girl, Caroline Matilda flashed into her mind. She tossed uneasily, her cough turning into a phlegmy gargle. And Bute! What about Bute? The agony of leaving him grappled with the shame of knowing she would have to stand before her husband, in Heaven, and explain why she had loved, just for a second, another man. Suddenly her bodice was punishingly tight; she could feel her breasts swell and press against the material and knew, without looking, they were strawberry red. Nothing improper had happened, but she blamed herself. She despised herself to think that even a chink of her heart could have been disloyal to Frederick.

Someone passed her a bowl and she threw up a noxious mixture of blood and gunge. God, it hurt. It felt like one of the lions in the Tower Menagerie had her by the jugular and was worrying her flesh with its teeth. Stay strong for George. Show him dignity. Teach him to despise fear. His face swam above her, wide-eyed and blotchy as he struggled to dam the tears. ‘It doesn’t give me pain,’ she tried to tell him, but the words came out in a slur of nonsense. Just as well. She shouldn’t be lying within minutes of meeting her Maker.

Charlotte was concocting more liquids and ointments to bring her relief, tinkling bottles together until they sounded like the flutter of angel wings. The heady, floral scent swept Augusta away, back to the botanic gardens that had been her life’s work. Bright yellow played against her closed eyelids and she could almost feel the heat of the sun.

“Dolly,” she murmured. There was a general flutter of consternation. Bells rang, servants were consulted. They could tell, by her grasping hands and her flapping, fish-like mouth, that she needed something. Mustering every ounce of strength, she fought against the spiky lump in her throat and tried to enunciate. “Dolly.”

It was George who understood. With a flash of his velvet coat-tails he was out of the door and dashing upstairs. Pray God he returned in time.  He was the kind of boy who would never forgive himself for being absent when she expired.

Charlotte tightened her grip on Augusta’s hand. ‘Be a good Queen,’ Augusta urged her. Then, with a sudden rush of charity, she added, ‘I know you can.’ The girl’s eyes filled with tears.

Augusta had never had her chance and it still stung like the thorn of rose. Princess of Wales was all she could grasp at. Charlotte would play her part well, but – oh! – how much better August would have done it! The demure Queen draped in ermine, a virtuous example for the nation, an eye to politics with no ostensible influence. How could it be she was denied that role? How could she want something so desperately yet never, ever get it?

But there was George again – her hope, her legacy. Her heir of the blood would sit on the throne and act as she had bidden him. Gently, he laid a child’s toy into the crook of her arm. Poor Dolly. She was as travel-worn and beaten as her mistress. The porcelain features were pale now, faded beneath the light of a thousand summers. Her upswept hair had tangles and little tattered ribbons clung stubbornly to the roots. Threadbare patches on her dress, dirt on the hem, stains on her sleeves. She, too, was ready to go.

It seemed a lifetime ago that a gawky, child-like teenager called Augusta had turned out her trunks and boxes, her wardrobe and portmanteau, deciding which objects would comfort her in her new life and which she would have to resign herself never to see again. Yes, she had been an ingénue, she had been naive. It had seemed imperative, even sensible, that her favourite doll should accompany her across the channel and face the world with her. A friendly face to confide in, an unjudging, tiny shoulder to cry on. Time had only proved her decision right. God, how she needed that doll in her first years in England.

Across the sea, across the land, through years of heart-ache and joy. Always side by side. They had made that first journey together. So would they make their last.