Regency

A Nervous Disposition

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Today I have the lovely Maria Grace in my Georgian parlour, talking about a subject close to my heart: nerves. We all remember Jane Austen’s Mrs Bennet and her whimsical illnesses, but what of those who suffered genuine problems? What were the treatments available and how were they viewed at the time?

It’s interesting to see from Maria’s article that some modern day stereotypes date back to the early nineteenth century. It seems some doctors considered those affected by panic attacks to blame – they were “indolent” and didn’t go out in “cheerful company” enough. How infuriating!

Take it away, Maria.

Nervous conditions

The fine sensibility prized by women in the 18th century gave rise to an epidemic of nervous disorders in the early 19th century.  Maladies of affluence and sophistication, nervous disorders paraded one’s wealth, refinement and sensibility. Women were particularly susceptible to nervous because of their ‘more delicate physiological network’.  In fact, ‘Nerves’ were a woman’s claim to superior social status, the mark of being a lady.

The wealthy and indolent were not the only suffers though.  Given that during the early 19th century people lived in a world where a small ache or upset stomach could be the harbinger of something far worse, or even fatal, it is not really surprising that hysterical diseases, hypochondria and melancholy—what we would call depression—were prevalent, especially when legitimized as disorders by respected doctors.

While doctors agreed that they existed, “there’s no Disease puzzled Physicians more than the Vapours, and Hysterick Fits. These complaints are produced by so many Causes, and appear in so many various Shares, that ’tis no easy Matter to describe them.” (Tennet) “The Annual Review” said that after doctors started taking nervous disorders seriously, everyone was taking medication for them, outdoing each other with exaggerated symptoms and buying an array of medical equipment to deal with them. How strangely 21st century it all sounds.

Symptoms and Types of Nervous conditions

According to William Buchan in his book  Domestic Medicine, 1790, “Of all diseases incident to mankind, those of the nervous kind are the most complicated and difficult to cure. A volume would not be sufficient to point out their various appearances. They imitate almost every disease; and are seldom alike in two different persons, or even in the same person at different times. Proteus-like, they are continually changing shape; and upon every fresh attack, the patient thinks he feels symptoms which he never experienced before. Nor do they only affect the body; the mind likewise suffers, and is often thereby rendered extremely weak and peevish.”

The symptoms of nervous disorders were often thought to begin in the stomach which was thought to be the center of the nervous system. Buchan suggested, “They generally begin with windy inflations or distensions of the stomach and intestines, the appetite and digestion are usually bad; yet sometimes there is an uncommon craving for food, and a quick digestion. The food often turns sour on the stomach; and the patient is troubled with vomiting of clear water, tough phlegm, or a blackish colored liquor resembling the grounds of coffee. Excruciating pains are often felt about the navel, attended with a rumbling or murmuring noise in the bowels.”

These symptoms might be accompanied by difficulty breathing; violent palpitations of the heart, sudden flushes or a sense of cold in various parts of the body, pains throughout the body, variable pulse, fits of crying and convulsive laughing, poor sleep and night-mares.

Progression of the disease would bring headaches, body cramps, mental disturbances including terror, sadness, weak memory and failure of judgment. “Nothing is more characteristic of this disease than constant dread of death. This renders those unhappy persons who labour under it peevish, fickle, impatient, and apt to run from one physician to another; which is one reason why they seldom reap any benefit from medicine, as they have not sufficient resolution to persist in any one course till it has time to produce its proper effects.” (Buchan)

By the beginning of the 19th century, hysteria was no longer attributed to a wandering womb, but the nervous system. Other forms of nervous conditions were also recognized including: melancholy, nightmare, swoons, low spirits, hysteric affections and hypochondriac affections.

Causes of Nervous Disorders

Doctors did not agree as to the cause of nervous conditions.  Some, like Tennet, argued the stomach was at core of the disorder. “Because the Stomach is suspected to be much in Fault, I would have That cleans’d in the first Place, with a Vomit of Indian Physick; the next Day, purify the Bowels, but a Purge of the same; which must be repeated 2 Days after.”

Others, including Buchan believed the causes more complex.  Indolence and other things that relaxed or weakened the body like drinking tea, frequent bleeding or purging could lead to nervous disorders. While those things which hurt digestion could contribute to the problem, unfavorable postures of the body and intense application to study were equally likely to cause difficulties. “Indeed few studious persons are entirely free from them. Nor is this at all to be wondered at; intense thinking not only preys upon the spirits, but prevents the person from taking proper exercise, by which means the digestion is impaired, the nourishment prevented, the solids relaxed, and the whole mass of humours vitiated. Grief and disappointment likewise produce the same effects.” (Buchan)

Treatments for Nervous conditions

In many ways, the recommended treatments for nervous disorders were quite progressive. They included a multipronged approach that included diet, exercise, and adjustments of daily routine as well as medication.

Since digestive troubles were considered a large contributor to nervous disorders, careful attention to diet was a major part of treatment.  “Persons afflicted with nervous diseases ought never to fast long. Their food should be solid and nourishing, but of easy digestion. Fat meats, and heavy sauces, are hurtful. All excess should be carefully avoided. …Wine and water is a very proper drink at meals: but if wine sours on the stomach, or the patient is much troubled with wind, brandy and water will answer better…All weak and warm liquors are hurtful, as tea, coffee, punch, &c. People may find a temporary relief in the use of these, but they always increase the malady, as they weaken the stomach and hurt digestion.”

As some doctors argue today, exercise was seen as superior to all medicines. Horseback riding and walking were considered ideal, but simply being quick about one’s business and active in their chores was recommended as well. When these were too much, even riding in a carriage could produce beneficial effect.

“A change of place, and the sight of new objects, by diverting the mind, has a great tendency to remove these complaints. For this reason a long journey, or a voyage, is of much more advantage than riding short journeys near home. Long sea voyages have an excellent effect; and to those who can afford to take them, and have sufficient resolution, we would by all means recommend this course.” (Buchan)

Patients were also advised to avoid great fires and seek cool dry air to brace and invigorate the body, though chills were to be avoided. Regular cold baths as well as frequently rubbing the body with a special brush, or a coarse linen cloth should be incorporated into the patient’s routine. Further, “they ought likewise to be diverted, and to be kept as easy and cheerful as possible. There is not anything which hurts the nervous system, or weakens the digestive powers, more than fear, grief, or anxiety.” (Buchan)

Though not seen as actual cures, a number of medicines might be recommended to render the patient’s life more comfortable. Mild purgatives to relieve constipation were recommended as were elixirs to improve digestion and strength the stomach.

Though laudanum was easily available, doctors cautioned against their overuse as opiates “only palliate the symptoms, and generally afterwards increase the disease (and) habit render them at last absolutely necessary.”

Avoiding Nervous Disorders

Not only were doctors concerned with treating nervous conditions, they also advised in how these disorders might be avoided. “Excessive grief, intense study, improper diet, and neglect of exercise, are the great sources of this extensive class of diseases…Grief indulged destroys the appetite and digestion, depresses the spirits, and induces a universal relaxation and debility of the whole system… (While) misfortunes indeed are not to be avoided, but surely their effects, by a vigorous and proper exertion of the mind, might be rendered less hurtful…

The effects of intense study are pretty similar to those occasioned by grief. It preys upon the animal spirits, and destroys the appetite and digestion. To prevent these effects, studious persons ought… never study too long at a time; nor attend long to one particular subject, especially if it be of a serious nature. They ought likewise to be attentive to their posture, and should take care frequently to unbend their minds by music, diversions, or going is to agreeable company.” (Buchan)

Attention should be paid with regard to proper diet, which avoided extremes of all forms. Regular exercise and fresh air should be a part of one’s routine. “BUT the most general cause of nervous disorders is indolence. The active and laborious are seldom troubled with them. They are reserved for the children of ease and affluence, who generally feel their keenest force. All we shall say to such persons is that the means of prevention and cure are both in their own power. If the constitution of human nature be such, that man must either labor or suffer diseases; surely no individual has any right to expect an exemption from the general rule.” (Buchan)

References

Buchan, William. Domestic Medicine: Or, A Treatise on the Prevention and Cure of Diseases by Regimen and Simple Medicines, 11th ed. , 1790

Parissien, Steven. Regency Style. Phaidon Press Limited (2000)

Sales, Roger. Jane Austen and Representations of Regency England.  Routledge (1994)

Shoemaker, Robert B. Gender in English Society 1650-1850 Pearson Education Limited (1998)

Tennet, John . Every Man his own Doctor: or, The Poor Planter’s Physician,   Williamsburg, VA, 1736.

Wilson, Ben. The Making of Victorian Values, Decency & Dissent in Britain: 1789-1837

The Penguin Press (2007)

Wiltshire, John   –   Contrib. to Jane Austen in Context. Cambridge University Press (2005)

Author Bio

Though Maria Grace has been writing fiction since she was ten years old, those early efforts happily reside in a file drawer and are unlikely to see the light of day again, for which many are grateful.

She has one husband, two graduate degrees and two black belts, three sons, four undergraduate majors, five nieces, six cats, seven Regency-era fiction projects and notes for eight more writing projects in progress. To round out the list, she cooks for nine in order to accommodate the growing boys and usually makes ten meals at a time so she only cooks twice a month.

She can be contacted at:

email: author.MariaGrace@gmail.com.

 Facebook: facebook.com/AuthorMariaGrace

Find her books on Amazon.com: amazon.com/author/mariagrace

Visit her website Random Bits of Fascination

On Twitter @WriteMariaGrace

Maria Grace

The Death of a King

George III in old age

After the action of my novel, God Save the King, George III spent his life in a lonely, twilight world, cooped up with his doctors in the north apartments of  Windsor castle. He had tried, in vain, to help organise the execution of his daughter Amelia’s will, but his comprehension began to fail him. For some time, the public still hoped he would recover, especially when they saw him walking on the terrace of Windsor castle with the two doctors Willis and Dr Heberden. He even rode down the Long Walk with his daughters and seemed in recovered spirits. But it wasn’t to be.  By the end of May 1811, he was giving instructions to imaginary servants again. In stark contrast to the Regency scuffle that marked the last prolonged bout of his insanity in 1788/89, the 1811 Regency bill was passed “with much composure and calmness”, according to Princess Mary. The Prince of Wales was in power and the Regency period had begun.

For the years 1811-1820, the spotlight swung round to the future George IV, leaving his father in the shadows. Information about George III’s final years is patchy and heartbreaking. All communication with his family was dropped, while his faithful pages were replaced with intimidating asylum keepers. This didn’t mean his family were hard-hearted to his plight.  As his daughter Augusta explained “Probably I shall never see him again…as I cannot serve him. I could do him no good and he would not know me.” Consequently, the Queen and her daughters were shut up on one side of the quadrangle, coping with a reduced income, while the King occupied the other. Flora Fraser says that Windsor took on an “Asiatic stillness” at this time.  It’s no surprise to find out that young Princess Charlotte found visiting duller than death. Indeed, it was a strange purgatory existence and the King’s death would have been a great relief to all. But his famously strong constitution kept him going, refusing to be shaved, talking to his dead children and planning to send his Queen to Botany Bay.

At times George III had to put his hands over his ears to shut out the voices that troubled him. But he was not always unhappy in his delusions. We have records of him playing (very tunelessly, one imagines!) on his flute and the harpsichord and eating cherry tarts. Most moving of all is the account of his behaviour as his wife, Charlotte, lay ill and then died in 1818. Up to her last breath, she was thinking of her husband and longing to be back at Windsor so she could at least die near him. But the King no longer remembered who she was. He was happy with his music and make-believe world throughout the funeral and beyond. When he mentioned George III, he spoke in the third person. “He was a good man,” he said.

Remarkably, the King’s strength held out until a massive paroxysm at Christmas 1819. He neither slept nor stopped talking for two days straight.  After this he began to weaken and gave up eating. Finally, at 8.32pm on 29 January 1820, the long-tortured man breathed his last.  He was 81 years old. Quite astonishing, when you consider that very few of his fifteen children lived to this age. George IV, now King, received the news with a “burst of grief” and his sisters were devastated. But in truth, they had lost their father long ago. As Princess Mary had written 9 years before, “Nobody who loves the poor King can wish his life to be prolonged an hour”.

It would have pleased George III to know that he died just before the anniversary of Charles I’s death, as he revered the Stuart King and applauded his collection of art. However, it made things difficult for his son, who was unable to be proclaimed King until the last day of January 1820. That wasn’t the end of the tragedy for the family, though. One of the sons, Edward, Duke of Kent and father to the future Queen Victoria had died unexpectedly during the same month. Then, on 1st February 1820, the new King George IV was struck down with an inflammation of the lungs. He suffered severe difficulty in breathing and his death seemed imminent. The public were expecting him to set a new record for the shortest reign in history. As Princess Lieven wrote, “Father and son have been buried together in the past – but two Kings!”

Thankfully, the King recovered, though not in time to attend his father’s funeral. This must have weighed on his conscience. Father and son had shared a difficult relationship and the ceremony may have given him some closure.   For two days, George III lay in state in the Audience chamber at Windsor, raised on a dais, under a rich black canopy. The town was packed full of people, from all classes, coming to pay their final respects to a beloved King.

The courtyard was still full of spectators when the funeral took place on 16 February. The corpse was bound in waxed linen before being placed in a mahogany coffin, lined with white satin. This was sealed in a second, lead, coffin before being put in a third coffin, Russian-doll style. Then, as night fell on Ash Wednesday – a suitably solemn day –  the  body was carried into St George’s chapel to the Dead March from Handel’s Saul.  George III would have approved of this, and the second Handel anthem that ended his committal service. Amid the light of flambeaux, he sank down into the family vault, to rest beside his beloved wife, daughter, granddaughter and stillborn great-grandson. Although people were relieved that his suffering was over, they could not help but “shed a last tear over the grave of a father and a friend”.

While these sad events were taking place, George III’s niece, Caroline, the prodigal Princess of Wales, was living the high life in Italy with her lover. All at once, her beloved uncle was dead and she was Queen of England. However, her estranged husband was less than keen to grant her any new title. Bitter arguments ensued and spurred her to return to England, determined on claiming her rights. If you want to find out more about the chaos caused by Caroline’s fight, look out for my next novel, A Forbidden Crown.

Funeral of George III

“A Catholic Whore”

Maria

You’ve got to feel sorry for Maria Fitzherbert. Despite her efforts to live a respectful life and protect her all-important public image, she came in for a large amount of bashing from the press. Why, you might ask, were the artists so keen to mock in caricature a woman who encouraged the Prince of Wales to drink less and retrench to Brighton? And why was her being Catholic so vitally important?

Unfortunately, Maria’s Catholicism wasn’t just a difference of religious belief. If it had been, she and George IV would have coped well. Maria’s beliefs were not the sort she felt she had to preach, or convert others to. She was content to live and let live. The problem was, history had set her – and her “kind” – up as a dangerous enemy to England, and more pertinently, to the crown.

It all started with James II and what we English then termed the “Glorious Revolution”. After fathering two Protestant girls, James married again and became more pronounced in his Catholicism. This led to the English nation deciding to depose him from the throne, and ban his Catholic son from inheriting. (Stuart fans, please forgive this simplistic summary. My Stuart knowledge has a way to go yet!)

Catholicism was, in a nutshell, why the Hanoverians inherited the crown. Their adherence to the Protestant religion was the only thing that marked them apart from various other claimants. Without it, they would be toppled – there were plenty of Catholics with a better blood-claim to the throne.  The law became so stringent that it not only barred a Catholic from inheriting the throne, but anyone married to Catholic. It was typical, really, that the contrary George IV should find his only true love in a woman of this religion!

For the Great British public, Catholics were the enemy. Not only were many of the countries they had fought in previous wars Catholic, but there had been blood shed on their own shores in the name of that religion. Violent attempts to get the Stuarts back on the throne in 1715 and 1745 led to massacres such as Culloden. Englishmen loyal to their King and country began to see Catholics as wannabe “kingmakers” and resented the supposed authority of the Pope to depose monarchs. In short, they were branded trouble-makers.

It was hardly true. In 1780, it was actually the Anglicans – or those claiming to be Anglican and looking for an excuse for a fight – who caused the mayhem, when Lord Gordon headed a protest against a bill to grant the Catholics some concessions. This bill was motivated by practicality, rather than religious freedom. The government needed more troops and were keen to recruit Catholic Highlanders. To help them do so, they proposed a few sweeteners: they would grant Catholics the right to buy and inherit land and  they would waive the sentence of life imprisonment for being a Catholic bishop or priest, providing the Catholics were willing to take an oath of loyalty that renounced the Stuart claim and said the Pope could not depose sovereigns. Maria’s then-husband, Thomas Fitzherbert, was a strong supporter of the bill.  Sadly, the public were not.

Newgate in Flames

Gordon’s rioters, fierce in their blue cockades, tore London apart. They gutted chapels, burnt down the houses of well-known Catholics, set the prisoners free from Newgate and chalked No Popery on doors. In this chaos Thomas Fitzherbert ventured out to check on his property. I have imagined what Maria would feel in my little practice chapter here and hinted at the illness that overtook him shortly after. Some historians actually claim Thomas was killed as a direct result of injuries sustained in the Gordon Riots. This doesn’t seem to be true, but it certainly was the beginning of the end for poor Tom.

In researching Maria, I’ve made some discoveries about the challenges Catholics faced at the time. While I don’t claim to be an expert on this particular topic, here are some interesting tit-bits I’ve found:

  • Penal Laws prevented  a Catholic from being a Justice of the Peace, Lord Lieutenant or Sheriff. As these offices were usually held by people of high standing in the locally society, it would be a significant snub to Catholic squires.
  • Catholics could not become officers in the county militia or take a seat in the house of Lords. They could not get a degree from Oxford, Cambridge, Trinity or Dublin. Rather a blow to the prospects of any young man!
  • Catholics could not act as guardians, executors or suitors in any court of law. They could not inherit or purchase property. Talk about injustice!
  • They could send their children abroad to be educated in their faith but they had to get a special licence.
  • A Catholic could not own arms, ammunition or a horse exceeding the value of £5
  • Catholics had to pay special taxes
  • Mass was illegal. Maria and her family would have been careful to refer to it as “prayers” or “high prayers”. They would also make sure they referred to the Pope as “our chief Bishop”. Similarly, there was no way they would dare call a priest “Father”. The priest would need to wear non-distinct clothing and be referred to as “Mr.”
  • If a Catholic couple wanted to marry, they would need to have an Anglican service. They could have a private Catholic one, but they would then need to have a second, public, Anglican ceremony. Failure to do so could result in a sentence of 14 years transportation! As both the Catholic and the Anglican ceremonies were valid in Catholic teaching, most just opted for the Anglican.

As you can see, life as a Catholic wasn’t easy! It’s no wonder that Maria grew up with such a sense of identity and belonging that was linked to her religion. Her parents had secret masses said in their manor and even set up a house in the village as a secret chapel. They would sneak priests in and allow all the local Catholics to come and hear the contraband service. Her great-grandfather was a baronet (and I believe I read somewhere this was conferred on him by Charles II for his loyalty to the Catholic Charles I) and her second husband Thomas was descended from Throckmorton blood. Those of you familiar with Tudor history may remember Throckmorton’s support of the Catholic Mary, Queen of Scots. One of Maria’s uncles joined a committee to protect the interests of Catholics and appeal for the right to build churches and live in the cities of Westminster and London (yes, Catholics couldn’t even live in the cities of Westminster and London at one point) The religion was in her family, in her blood.

Is it any surprise that Maria refused to cast this heritage aside for the love of a man? She had a great sense of her own self-worth and would never betray who she was. I admire her the more for refusing to give up her history for a chance of glory as the Prince’s wife. It is too often the way with historians to represent Maria as deeply pious – they forget her adhesion to her faith had more to do with identity than theological differences.

"What's a fellow to do about these darned Catholics?"
“What’s a fellow to do about these darned Catholics?”

As for George IV, his opinions towards Catholicism underwent stupendous changes. At one time quoted as saying Catholicism “was the only religion for a gentleman”, he progressed to wary indifference and finally antagonism. As Regent, he refused to discuss Catholic emancipation, and with good reason. His father, George III, was vehemently against it, and after all, he was only ruling in his father’s name. When the time came for him to rule in his own right as George IV, his feelings altered again. Once he had made the coronation oath, he began to feel the same way as his father: granting the Catholics freedom would be going directly against the vow he had made to uphold the Protestant religion before God.  Part of me also feels that, even after all this time, he was still secretly seeking the approval of his deceased parent, which he hardly ever gained in life.

But George IV did finally sign the Catholic Relief Bill in 1829, a year before his death. He was reluctant to let it pass, to say the least. He became violently ill and desperate in trying to stop it – some also suggest this huge upset hastened his death. But George IV knew when he was beaten by public opinion, and took the brave step of signing despite his own feelings. He was able to put his own opinions aside for the good of the nation – a step his proud, stubborn father would never have been able to do. This was a great leap towards religious freedom in Britain and one for which, I’m sure, Maria would have been proud of him.

 

Royal Pregnancy and Tragedy

I doubt there’s anyone reading this who hasn’t heard about the hoax call from an Australian radio-station that ended in tragedy this week. I would like to think this terrible incident would cause people to think twice before harassing the royals – at least for the sake of other people caught up in the stories, if not for the royals themselves – but hey, I also thought that when Princess Diana died.

Obviously the main tragedy lies with the nurse and her poor family, but I’m also sad for this unborn, future monarch. It’s a horrible shadow to have hanging over your birth and you can tell it will be mentioned in every future history book about him or her.  This particular situation reminded me so forcibly of another person whose life was devastated by a royal pregnancy and his part in it that I felt compelled to write a blog post about him. Ladies and gentlemen, spare a thought for the unfortunate Sir Richard Croft.

Croft was an eminent London physician who had worked alongside such names as Dr John Hunter and Dr Matthew Baille. I appreciate these doctors may mean nothing to you, but I can tell you they were highly esteemed. Croft had worked as one of the physicians to the royal family for years, even treating George III himself at times.

As such a respected doctor, he seemed to perfect choice to supervise the pregnancy and labour of George IV’s only daughter, Princess Charlotte. Charlotte had suffered two miscarriages previous to this pregnancy, so they were being extra careful. Alongside Croft, a nurse called Mrs Griffiths, who had 30 years midwifery experience, was in attendance.

Described as a long, thin, fidgety man, Croft was not the most popular person in Charlotte’s home of Claremont. The princess liked her own way and was not prepared for the strict regime he imposed. Firstly, there was the matter of her weight. The princess’ grandmother, Queen Charlotte, felt distinctly uneasy about her size. She was a voice of some experience, having given birth to fifteen children of her own. Croft shared the Queen’s concerns and subjected young Charlotte to a strict diet. She liked to have a mutton chop and a glass of port for her lunch, but this was now exchanged for tea and toast. While this seems a wise measure to modern eyes (can you imagine a pregnant woman drinking port these days?), his other treatments of bleeding and purges leave us feeling horrified. But as I’m sure you are aware, bleeding was considered a healthy thing to do in the period. Only Stockmar, physician to Charlotte’s husband, Leopold, demurred. “This lowering treatment is no longer regarded as sensible in Europe”, he explained. However, he let Croft get on with his job.

One sensible thing Croft did do was persuade Charlotte to stop wearing stays. Such a bodily restriction could hardly have been healthy for the baby’s growth. Unfortunately, he didn’t express himself in the most flattering way. “A cow does not wear stays,” said Croft. “Why should the Princess Charlotte?”

Perhaps unsurprisingly. Charlotte was left feeling depressed by the “lowering treatment” and dwelt on death. She had picked out patterns for the baby’s clothes with glee but didn’t want to see them when they arrived. All the same, when her pains finally began, she climbed into bed with courage, assuring Mrs Griffiths she would neither bawl nor shriek. It was a promise she kept.

It was an extremely difficult labour. The progress was slow, but this didn’t bother Croft at first. He allowed Leopold in the room to hold Charlotte’s hand, lie down beside her on the bed or walk in front of the fire as the hours passed by.  One thing he would not tolerate, however, was eating. As fifty excruciating hours rolled by, Charlotte had neither sleep nor food.

Witnesses for the royal birth began to arrive at Claremont and gathered in the breakfast room. They had a long wait ahead of them. Even Charlotte’s parrot, Coco, had had enough and began to sqwark. Croft realised that the baby was lying at a strange angle and, to make matters more troublesome, was an unusually large child.  He began to think surgical intervention may be required in the form of forceps. This was no light matter. Forceps were considered extremely dangerous at the time and would only be used in dire emergency. He summoned Dr Sims, an expert in the use of surgical instruments in pregnancy, who, despite being on call in the case of the princess,  took hours to arrive. He assured Croft that the labour was moving along gradually and there was no need to intervene.

Poor Charlotte’s labour lasted another day and there were signs the infant was in trouble. The child’s first faeces – which usually appear after birth – oozed out onto the sheets. A further three hours went by before the royal baby finally emerged into the world – large, male and stillborn. Everything was tried to restore the young prince. He was slapped, shaken, plunged into hot water, rubbed with salt and mustard, all to no avail. His little life was over before it began.

Croft, Mrs Griffiths and Leopold were devastated. Charlotte bore it better, seeming unnaturally composed – I expect she was far too exhausted to let her real emotions show, and she had always been a brave woman. While Leopold retired to a sedated sleep, Croft and Sims were disturbed by the fact that Charlotte continued to bleed. They decided to remove her placenta by hand, rather than wait for it to come naturally. After they had done so, the bleeding stopped and Charlotte was finally allowed chicken broth – her first food in two days. She was given camphor julep  as a stimulant and seemed relatively cheerful, teasing Mrs Griffiths about her gown before drifting off into a well deserved sleep.

Around midnight, Charlotte awoke to unbearable pain and a singing in her head. She threw up all the broth and, clutching her stomach, cried “Oh, what a pain! It is all here!” The terrified Mrs Griffiths ran out to fetch Croft, who found his patient freezing cold and unable to remain in the same posture for more than a minute, due to her intense pain. Though she struggled to breath, she complained about the cold. In a moment of blind panic, Croft and Griffiths did all they could to warm her up. They forced alcohol down her, stoked up the fire, and put down a deluge of blankets. Had they been calmer, they would have noticed she was bleeding again. They would also have remembered that the medical practice of their time recommended cold compresses in such cases – not the inferno they were creating.

Stockmar, disturbed by the fracas, came in to hear Charlotte’s complaints that the doctors had made her tipsy. He was horrified by the heat in the room but his protests came too late. All he could do was try to wake Leopold so he could say goodbye to his darling wife. Even these efforts were in vain – Leopold’s sedatives had done their trick. Without him, Charlotte turned onto her face, drew her knees up to her chest and breathed her last.

The outpouring of national grief can scarcely be imagined. The death of two heirs to the throne at once left England with only George III’s ageing sons to inherit. They were hardly popular, while the people had adored Charlotte. It is natural, when tragedy strikes, to want someone to blame – whether that person be yourself or another individual. England chose Croft. While the royal family thanked him for his care of Charlotte and showed no signs of hostility, the public were another matter. Even today, Croft seems to be branded as the man who “killed” Princess Charlotte. It was true that he had an over-confident manner and made mistakes, but I was astonished to find historian James Chambers describing him as “not an eminent or even qualified physician. He was merely the most fashionable of the many accoucheurs…and his title was an inherited baronetcy rather than a well-earned knighthood”. Such censure is, I feel, grossly unfair. It was hardly likely that a family as used to needing doctors asthe royals (remember the King’s still ongoing madness? The childhood ailments of fifteen children, let alone their births?) would make a choice on the whim of fashion.

George IV wrote to Croft to assure him of his “confidence in the medical skill and ability which he displayed during the arduous and protracted labour”. It was a confidence that at least some others must have shared, for Croft continued to get work. But the continual morning for Charlotte – the poems, the full churches, the shops draped in black – were an ever-present nettle on his conscience. You can picture him reliving the hours again and again, seeing things he could have done differently, cursing himself for the panic which led him to heat Charlotte up rather than cool her down.  He finally broke when attending the wife of a rich clergyman in Harley Street. Her case bore similarities to Charlotte’s, although there was no cause for extreme concern as yet. While awaiting the next contractions, he left husband and wife alone and retired to the study. There, he sat in a wing-chair and opened a volume of Shakespeare’s Love’s Labour’s Lost on a significant quote: “Fair sir, God save you! Where is the Princess?” He then took a pair of pistols and shot himself through the head.

Poor Sir Richard Croft became the third victim of the national tragedy, although few people mourned for his wife and four children as intensely as they did for their princess. There were even wicked people who thought justice had been served on him. I always wonder about the vicar’s wife – what did she do without his help in the birth? Did she survive? And again, what about the unfortunate baby whose birth was preceded by bloody scene downstairs?  Perhaps I will never find out. They were just another set of innocents caught up in a national tragedy, more ripples skating across the pool that we fail to see, because we are focusing on where the stone dropped.

 

Brighton

I’m very lucky to be within reach of many places featured in my novels. Only recently I found out that Henrietta Howard spent time living at Blickling Hall and Audley End – both places I visited and enjoyed without even knowing! In preparation for A Forbidden Crown, Brighton was a key place to visit. It’s a very different place now to the resort that Maria, Caroline and Charlotte knew, but somehow just being there helped me to get a feel for their lives. Of course, the building at the centre of my research was that famous “monstrosity”: The Royal Pavilion.

In A Forbidden Crown, the Pavilion serves as a symbol for Maria’s relationship with George IV. It goes from being a simple farmhouse to an elegant Marine Pavilion under her watch. But by the time it becomes an exotic, sprawling folly, both the building and the Prince have grown far past her recognition. In fiction, I’m taking the view that most contemporaries shared: it was over-the-top and gaudy. But I must admit, on a personal level, that I rather like it!

You have to use your imagination as you walk through the small remnant of the gardens, towards the towering domes. A busy road and a pavement would not be running right alongside – there was a drive and a little wilderness before you reached the Steine. There probably wouldn’t have been so many tall buildings blocking your view of the sea. The modern-day care-takers of the Pavilion have given you a wonderful feel of what the gardens may have been like: bright flowers, palm trees and exotic plants, all taken from contemporary accounts. A lovely place to walk on a sunny day – but, as I was there in November and the wind was pretty high, we hurried inside.

Of all my heroines, only Princess Charlotte would have experienced the interior of the Pavilion in its current state. She rather dreaded visits to her father and, as luck would have it, the building works with me to create an unsettling atmosphere. In A Forbidden Crown, Charlotte will walk down the corridors, uneasy to see the dark faces of the Chinese figures watching her with sharp, wooden eyes. The roaring dragons and snakes entwining themselves round the furniture will make her think she is walking into a monster’s lair. She will feel, as I could not, the suffocating heat of the air, which her father tinged with the smell of burning incense and spices to give it an oriental flavour. Indeed, many ladies were frightened by the decoration, refusing to sit under the dragon chandelier. In the dark, it looked like the dragons really were breathing flames of fire, rather than supporting candles.

For me, of course, the place was far from frightening. Most rooms spoke of splendour and elegant parties. I understood that, if the place looked incredible to me, it must have been truly extraordinary for the lucky ladies and gentlemen of the period who got an invite. The painted bamboo and palm-trees were as close as many visitors would get to seeing the real things in their natural habitat. The Banqueting Room and the Music Room were works of art. In fact, George loved the decor of the music room so much that he wept when he first saw it. My audio-guide said the carpet was so thick and luxurious that people would sink into it. Whole teams of servants would have to scour the palace after each party, to clean off the melted wax and wine stains on the wall. Apparently, stale bread was good for cleaning walls and tea-leaves for cleaning carpets. Both the party and the clean-up operations must have been some sight!

There were also rooms with a simple kind of elegance – the type I imagine Maria approving of and Caroline hiding in during her first and only stay in Brighton.  Both of these ladies would have experienced a smaller and more restrained Pavilion, clad in glazed Hampshire tiles. The main room would have been the current saloon, which is undergoing work to return it to Regency glory. I lingered here a while, trying to absorb the feel of it. This was a room in which Maria would have stood, many a time. A room in which she was probably happy.  It would have had a plain, neo-classical look back then, when she laughed at the hi-jinks of her Prince and his companions. Going off either side would be rooms where she played cards, acted as hostess – and at last, was humiliated by George’s mistresses. I made a little trip to Maria’s house, close by, which is now a YMCA. I felt there the more calming, elegant influence she would have exuded over the Pavilion. Some say there is an underground tunnel from it to the Pavilion – I rather like that idea, but I think Maria would feel it beneath her dignity to be sneaking around underground like a rat in a sewer. Near Maria’s house, there is a hotel where William and Adelaide stayed on some visits. It was wonderful to picture them all, on their holidays by the sea, swarming around the hub of the Prince’s fantasy playground.

The main purpose of my visit was to see the exhibition on Princess Charlotte – “The Forgotten Princess”. It was smaller than I imagined, but I’m glad I saw it. Not only did I finally find the Maria Cosway painting of Caroline and Charlotte leaning against Britannia that I had read so much about, I saw some items that were, to a historical novelist, a bit like relics. Firstly, Charlotte’s baby shift. I could just see her chubby little arms filling up the sleeves, her constantly working legs kicking out beneath. Caroline would have hugged her daughter close, marvelling over the tiny cuffs and detailed stitching. She would probably have felt, at that time, that her daughter was the only thing she had to connect to in all of England. Perhaps she would also have experienced a stab of annoyance that she had not been able to order the baby clothes herself – it would have all been Queen Charlotte’s doing.

There was another baby shift on display, more poignant. The warm, squirming body that was to give it a purpose never breathed. It was part of the clothing set ordered for Charlotte and Leopold’s baby boy. He was stillborn. I remember reading that Charlotte ordered the baby clothes with great care, enjoying choosing patterns and materials. But when they arrived, she didn’t want to look at them. Fear of the birth, or perhaps a premonition of her own dark fate, had sapped her enjoyment from them. She folded the baby clothes and put them away. Did her hands fold the delicate, wispy material of that shift? I like to think so.

Lastly, la pièce de résistance: Charlotte’s wedding dress. They think the dress in its current form is the original wedding gown and three other court costumes cobbled together,  but the tampering didn’t really bother me. What bowled me over was the proportions of it. I’ve seen many paintings of Charlotte – the high, ample bosom, the short but pleasantly plump figure. I have to say, they were spot on. Suddenly she was there before me – about my height, pleasingly rounded. I could see her, adjusting her hair in the mirror, trying to calm her fluttering stomach. Whether the gown was entirely original or not, it was very beautiful. If only the happiness it promised could have lasted a little longer for poor old Charlotte.

If you are reading or writing about the Regency period, I would thoroughly recommend a visit to the Pavilion. The Charlotte exhibition is on until the end of March 2013 so you have a few more months to catch it. It’s sad that we no longer have Carlton House to marvel at or Charlotte’s prison, Warwick House. At Brighton Pavilion, at least,  we can get a taste of George’s extraordinary decorations, and a feel for the royals who are now long gone.

Why I love Queen Charlotte

 

It struck me, as I wrote my post about Caroline of Ansbach, that I haven’t blogged purely about Charlotte and how great she was. Yes, I’ve given snippets of her life in other blog posts, but nothing to tell you just why you should want to read about her. She was truly a remarkable woman, often eclipsed by the “brighter” personalities of the era.  I’m bound to forget something, but here’s a summary of the reasons I love her so much.

Her intelligence. I remember reading an interview with Philippa Gregory about how she chose her heroines – she said you were going to spend years of your life with this person and you needed to make sure you didn’t choose an idiot. This is so true. Thankfully, I selected a woman with a deep interest in academia and the arts. Despite her upbringing in an obscure Duchy, Charlotte was educated to a high level and made sure her daughters were too. She went to the lengths of stealing a French teacher from another family to ensure her Princesses got the very best tuition. My favourite quote from her: “I am of the opinion that if women had the same advantages as men in their education, they would do as well.”

Artistic flair. Charlotte was both an amateur artist and a skilled harpsichord player. She acted as patron for many artistic societies and famously encouraged the young Mozart. Musical scores, books on  botany and countless other endeavours were dedicated to her. For her encouragement of exploration, a flower from the Cape of Good Hope was named after her – Strelitza Regina – you may know it better as the bird of paradise flower. Charlotte was always seeking out new books and new things to learn. Although the novelist Fanny Burney didn’t enjoy being kept at Charlotte’s court, she certainly received praise of her work from the Queen. Burney’s third novel, Camilla, is dedicated to Charlotte and she took great pride in presenting it to her royal mistress on bended knee.

Her charity. Charlotte often had to apply to the King for extra funds, because she had overspent on charitable donations. Much of her charity focused on women and their plight – childbirth hospitals and even a society for the reformation of fallen women. She may have been the first woman in England, but she never forgot how difficult life was for those less fortunate. Linking her love of music and charity together, she paid for the composer Bach’s funeral and granted his widow an allowance. It may seem  bizarre that she acquired a reputation for penny-pinching and financial austerity, but in this she was copying the King. They both tried to live as economically as possible, to set an example to their people and lessen the burden their family exerted on the tax payer.

Impeccable taste. When Charlotte did get the chance to spend money on luxuries, she could keep up with the best of them. I often think George IV inherited his good taste from her – although with him, it often flared out into gaudiness. Charlotte paid great attention to the details in her dresses, the arrangement of her daughters’ hair (even consulting artist Benjamin West about where the jewels should be placed) and her jewellery. Jewellery was a passion with Charlotte and one which I think many of us women can sympathise with. Although Charlotte was never beautiful, she acquired a reputation for elegance and grace – she knew how to do the best with what she  had. In fact, her”ugliness” is another thing I love about Charlotte. I’m bored with hopelessly attractive Queens – I have nothing in common with them!

When it came to interior design and flower arranging, her enthusiasm knew no bounds. Her taste was neither as bland and simple as the King’s nor as decadently riotous as her son’s. Very little of Charlotte’s decoration remains at Windsor, Frogmore or Buckingham Palace, but if you read the accounts of her dimity curtains, gilt frames and embroidered chairs,  you get a feel for the gentle prettiness of her style.

Her quiet faith. Charlotte was a devout woman and used her religion to strengthen her. She had a deep interest in theology and even belonged to a Protestant convent in her youth. She was not pushy or preachy but believed in setting an example for others to follow. The strength of her convictions is shown early on in discussions with her mother in law, Augusta, Dowager Princess of Wales – this was the one part of her life Charlotte would not allow anyone else to influence or dictate to her in. She certainly need the consolation of religion in the life that lay ahead of her. She was aware that even the plans of a Queen could be shot off course by higher powers – one of her favourite phrases was: “Man proposes; God disposes.”

Motherhood. In a time when childbirth was a dangerous activity, you can’t help but admire a woman who survived fifteen labours. Although Charlotte’s frame was slight, there was remarkable strength in it. Charlotte was also what I call a “normal” mother – neither outrageously devoted to or indifferent to her children. When I imagine being responsible for fifteen children, my first thought is: “What a nightmare.” And Charlotte was duly annoyed and frustrated by her brood many times. She suffered from depression during her pregnancies, wished she would have no more children and often found it hard to share her love equally among them. But she wrote to all her children when they were absent from home – even those the King forgot – and was devastated when she lost two baby boys. Her tough love approach to education may have distanced some of her daughters, but she was adored by both Princess Elizabeth and George IV. She stood up for her beloved eldest son on many occasions and was a great support to him during his Regency. It is worth noting that she went from being a widely popular Queen to a rather disliked figure amongst some circles at the time of her death – all because she stood by her son. Having said that, she also took George IV to task when he needed it. I particularly love the instance of her having a go at him because he had failed to pay her granddaughter’s (another Charlotte) allowance on time. She was, in fact, a good grandmother, which perhaps the young Charlotte didn’t appreciate until later years. It is touching to see how Charlotte tried to promote her granddaughter’s marriage to Prince Leopold and took pains to get acquainted with the young man.

She was a woman of her time. Let’s face the truth: Charlotte lived in a time when women were the weaker sex. She may not always have agreed with it, but she didn’t rail against it either. It’s interesting to work out the psychology of a woman who, although she may have known better, submitted to her husband’s opinion at all times. She had a crushing sense of duty and that duty was to the King. She allowed him to dictate the way she would behave towards certain children – the ones not in favour! – and the people she took into her household. She stayed out of politics to please him, even though her mind was more than capable of handling its complexities. For a writer, this is brilliant. The internal conflict caused by such devoted duty is pure gold. Here was a woman, not blindly following, but forcing herself to obey. There are delightful little moments where the real Charlotte peeps out – throwing her lot in unashamedly with the Tories after they stood by her during the King’s illness, intervening for George IV, trying to persuade the King to let her daughters marry. But for the main part, Charlotte was a model wife of the time. I admire this. It may seem strange, but I can see more strength in her behaviour than I can in those women that shouted and screamed at their husbands. It would have been easy – if inadvisable –  for Charlotte to speak her mind and defy the King.  But she managed to restrain herself with mind-boggling self-control. I’m not saying I advocate this behaviour in the least. I can just see that in her, it was strength, not weakness, that held her tongue.

Her death. Most Queens die like martyrs. Both Caroline of Ansbach and Caroline of Brunswick endured agonising deaths with supreme courage – they were not afraid to die. I admire this more than I can say, but it doesn’t necessarily resonate with me. If I was about to die, I would be terrified. And so was Charlotte. She spent many of her last days crying, worrying over her will and wishing she had all her children with her. She prayed constantly. Most touching of all, she wanted to force her sick body to travel to Windsor so she could die near the King. It wasn’t to be. She died quietly at Kew, closing a tumultuous life with a peaceful slumber.

I hope I haven’t bored you too much with my Charlotte obsession. If you would like to read more about Charlotte and her life, why not try my novel God Save the King? Or if you are looking for history books, I would recommend Olwen Hedley’s Queen Charlotte, Flora Fraser’s Princesses (as always!) or Christopher Hibbert’s George III: A Personal History.

God Save the King

Huzzah! The post I’ve been working towards for so long – God Save the King is now available for you to purchase!

I have to offer my heartfelt thanks to my husband Kevin, who not only helped with cover design, typesetting and beta reading, but also managed to squeeze the release into George III’s coronation day :) His is the rating of five stars you will see on the product page – I’ve told you before, he’s biased! Other thanks go to beta readers Anna Roche, Dan Payne and Hannah Renowden, as well as my great editor Jennifer Quinlan.

God Save the King is currently printing through Lulu and you can purchase it by clicking on the above image or here. The ISBN is 9780956161017 and will soon be showing on Amazon and Barnes and Noble – I understand it can take up to a week to appear there.  For all of you on the Kindle, don’t despair, the ebook is on its way! We just have a bit of tweaking to do to make sure it’s perfect for you.

I can’t wait for you all to meet Queen Charlotte and I really hope you come to love her as sincerely as I do.

Happy reading and thank you for all your support!

An Interview with David W Wilkin

It’s always nice to hear about other authors,  but especially ones who dabble in the Regency! Today I’m lucky enough to have David W Wilkin on my blog. Although David writes in many genres, he’s been kind enough to focus on his Regency writing for us.

1)What moved you to become an author?

Well, I have always liked stories for as long as I can remember. I don’t really remember the first adult reading experience, but when I was 12 I went to summer camp and my counselor recommended the Lord of the Rings back then. What a great book, and this was 38 years ago, 1974. Long before we had the animated movie, or the more recent movie (which a high school friend was the producer on!) It didn’t change my life, but it certainly gave me an appreciation of wanting to turn my stories into stories for everyone.

So when I graduated college, I had already sold an article for a gaming magazine. I started playing around with longer work. My short stories have always been hard for me. I just have something to say and it takes a lot of words to say it. (I think maybe I am a little verbose.) I sat down and wrote Tranquility Hilton. The story of the first moon colony, where the hotel franchise is to the Hilton chain. Yet, what happens when a wealthy couple, fallen on bad times, also sees their very valuable diamonds and other jewelry stolen from the vault on opening weekend.

They have to be wealthy, since it isn’t cheap to go to the moon and be tourists there (though with the way sales are going for spaceshots, there are a lot of rich people.) I wrote that, and now, in hindsight over 25 years later on with a lot of classes on writing and a lot more practical experience. I know why it was rejected and what it needs to be made viable. I even managed to transfer the digital data from many computers and backup systems so I still have access to it. (The real main theme of a novel about those living and manning the first hotel on the moon isn’t the robbery. It is the longing for Earth that they are separated from.)

As I mentioned in some other interviews, the reason I write Regency Romance is all about Cheryl, my wife. We met at a Regency dance and wooing her involved my writing a few pages of a story and sending it to her, until I won her heart.

 2) Tell us about your current novel.

The current novel that I am excited about and think that everyone should come and get a copy, is Jane Austen and Ghosts. I wrote it very quickly because the idea came to be quickly and the story was just all there. Then nuance came as I started typing.

There are a host of novels about Jane and our Regency/Victorian era writers and novels now meeting the supernatural, zombies, sea monsters, and of course the very timely favorite Vampires. I had never read any of these, having read through Dracula twice in my life. That is quite a tale, and I tackled my project and then delved into one of the others. I can see where there is a fascination for the material.

But the inspiration came to me because of the success of this sub-genre and my cousin who finds ideas to make movies. Well the whole cult of these books and success of Twilight and others in the field suggested that Patrick was going to buy, or someone who did Patricks job at another studio, these stories and make a movie. And with my friend Mark (of Lord of the Rings Success) as well making successful movies, what would happen if one studio cornered the rights and had to now make that movie. Oy Vey! Jane like Billy Bigelow in Carousel should be allowed to come back to Earth…

Or even come back with a few friends. And in Hollywood, there are a lot of those who have passed to the next life that Jane might now know who could come back with her and provide inspiration on how these novels really should be made into movies.

 Though the authors of the novels within the novel are caricatures, like Mr. and Mrs. Bennet for instance, or Lady Catherine. The detail of Hollywood and the parallel plot lines to Jane’s work should provide anyone who likes Jane’s work with some fun along the way.

 3) How did the story begin to develop in your mind?

As I mentioned, the things that came together were the current fad in Regency and Victorian era writing with the supernatural and the realization of these movies coming out. But I did not just weave that into the story alone. Studios and production companies have more than one iron in the fire, else they won’t be able to go into production on the next project.

So as the main plot of our novel, to begin work on the screenplay for the Jane project is being discussed with the authors of these special novels, there is another movie project about to start shooting the next week. Not to say that Adam Sandler features in it, since he is a public figure. But that a character based on Adam and a project for him is a sub plot seemed like a lot of fun to also weave into the story.

That along with the succession plan of the production company which speaks to mirroring the success that Elizabeth Bennet might find with Darcy and his ten thousand a year.

 4) What did you find most challenging about this book?

Weaving in and out of the studio like feel to the novel. Setting the scene. The dialogue and interaction of the characters came nicely, as did the plot and subplots. But to give it a tone of Hollywood, (And I used to work for Dick Clark Productions many years ago) was the challenge.

 I try and take the reader on a journey that will keep them entertained and certainly make them feel they are getting bang for their buck. I lace my novels with humor, and maintain that my characters act consistent in the way I have established them. That they be true to themselves in their time. With Jane Austen and Ghosts that is easily done as it is modern era. With the Regencies I write, my characters can think philosophically of a world where slavery is no longer allowed, since Wilburforce was working towards that goal. Where the vote is for all men, and even women to an extent, since we have had the revolution, though even in America, only holders of land could vote. The Terror in France shows that giving away too much power to an uneducated proletariat could have a devastating effect, so my heroes can not be as modern of thought as democracies are today. (But then they will not be as corrupt then as politicians are today.)

 5) How did you choose your publishing method?

A few years back I started and completed a NaNoWriMo book. The one where you write 50,000 words in November. Except I write novels of one hundred thousand words. About 330 pages. And I completed that many words in November as well. But the point was I spent a month writing the book, and then a few weeks later, with the help and feedback of my writer’s group editing it.

They all thought it was at the level finally ready for publication. This was when the world of publishing was really changing. And where I found I could make about 30% to 70% publishing on my own, instead of splitting that with an agent, the publishing companies, the graphic artist, the promotion people. I did some research, and then thought I would see what would happen. After I did put this I found that several others were doing well with this method. And then the feedback I got after my first book went to press, speaking to reader’s groups, interviews on the internet. Good reviews. It made it worthwhile

 6) Tell us a little about yourself?

Well, I was 6 ft and almost 1 inch. Now I’m shrinking.

That was probably too little.

I’m a man writing Regency Romances. That has to be a little different.

So why? Why do I like the Regency?

I have written elsewhere about how Southern California at one time started a craze in Regency Reenactment. With that craze came the locals running a monthly dance practice so all would be ready for the two big events each year that are held. A Regency Ball held in Fall called the Autumn Ball, and then A Regency Assembly where the group would go to a hotel and take it over for a full weekend of activities, dancing, and another Ball.

A friend, thinking they had a woman to introduce me to, urged that I go to this dance practice, and though I did date the young lady once, I went back to the practice at various times because others knew of it. It was a good way for my friends and I to have fun doing these dances, and as time went on I became quite good and taught them, as I also did the dances I had mastered in my Medieval/Renaissance reenactment group.

I further became hooked on Regencies when one of my closest friends told me to read Georgette Heyer’s Frederica. Once into that and Heyer’s use of language I devoured a dozen more. (Well I didn’t eat them, but you understand.) Then I met Cheryl at the Autumn Ball. I had been writing in other forms, so as we maintained a long distance romance for a few months, I began to write her a Regency Story/Novel a few pages every few days until we were together.

My writing group thought that it was some of my best work and better than the Science Fiction I was sharing at the time, so I grew into Regency Romance.

 7) What is your next work, and beyond that, what do you want to work on.

My next Regency is Beggars Can’t Be Choosier. I have been looking for readers because I tackled some issues as a male writer I have needed women to ready. Basically if I handled a miscarriage and also childbirth correctly. I haven’t been in labor, so I wrote based on my interaction with women on the subject. It would still be good to have others tell me if I nailed this or not. So I am still looking to find that feedback. (Any Volunteers?)

But I want to put this through my editing cycle as well as Two Peas in a Pod, a humorous look at Regency Twin look a likes, as well as some mad cap humor. (I always want to capture a certain Beatrice and Benedict repartee in my hero and heroine.)

If I could do this full time, then I am sure we could see 4 new Regencies a year as well as several fantasies. I have two ideas for series that I want to develop. One in the early Regency era, when France is on the verge of the Terror, and then another much later. A Ruritanian Romance series.

 8) In the current work, is there an excerpt to share? Your favorite scene, a part of your life that you put into the work and think it came out exceptionally well that you would like to share.

In Jane Austen and Ghosts there is a reveal that takes place near the end. I don’t know if everyone can guess at it, but one can see how tricky I make my Jane as a Ghost. A little bit more of the willfulness we see in Elizabeth Bennet that we don’t see in many other of the Heroines of Jane’s.

It is so common for so many to have imaginary friends when we are young and a few times those friends have been portrayed as ghosts, well perhaps I linked that idea together, though as the late Robert Jordan would say RAFO! (Which means Read and Find Out) Designed to propel sales of the book. I think far more fun will be to look at the past Hollywood Icons and Legends who journey back over to visit us at DeMille Brothers Studios. Some of whom are not only famous, but infamous, and some you may have to be immersed in Hollywood lore and legend to identify.

I will say that the last few paragraphs I had a great deal of fun with and hope my readers appreciate it.

 9) Who do you think influenced your writing, this work, and who do you think you write like.

Well Jane Austen of course. For Regencies I am also influenced by Georgette Heyer. I have a few modern day writers of Regency Mysteries. The Beau Brummel and Jane Austen Mysteries. The late Kate Ross. If you love Regencies, run, don’t walk to find these 4 gems. (Oh and now, Galen Beckett but this series is got Fantasy elements, the prose is dynamite though.)

After that, I think Robert Heinlein and Charles Dickens helped to form me as a writer.  The late Brian Daley, the Late Robert Asprin, the Late Robert Jordan (There really isn’t a theme. I am just younger than the writers I read and whom I like and return to reading. For those who take a look at my Fantasy work and other work, they may see how I am influenced.

10) Who do you read? What are the things that a reader can identify with that you have grounded yourself in.

Aside from my influences, who I listed, this last year I have read Burt Golden who has a mystery dealing with the March Madness tournaments. Burt was a former College Basketball coach so knows that area pretty well. Nathan Lowell who has written a science fiction series reminiscent of playing the Traveller role-playing game, Patrick Rothfuss whose second book is not nearly as strong as his first book.

Dave Poyer who is a delight in Modern Naval fiction, ER Burroughs who I thought had written better when I read him as a teenager, and Michael J. Sullivan whose first two books were much better crafted than the third where he through in traditional fantasy elements without regard to logic.

11) When writing, what is your routine?

I spend way too much time in front of my computer writing. Somedays I will sit and come up with well over 30 pages. I have sprints where I want to work on 100 pages a week. And then I have distractions where I have to take breaks and work on the website, or the blog.

It takes a good hour to come up with 3 pages in first draft, an about an hour to edit ten pages. In a three hundred page work then, that is about 100 hours to write the first draft. Thirty more to go through my edit. Then I enter the edits. At least another thirty and about a week of prep. About 200 hours? That seems low. If I sat here and was not distracted and got paid for that time, could I do a book every five weeks? 10 a year? Well probably. But then how much should I get back for each book?

Is $8 worth your time to read for two to three hours what took me 200 to write and polish and work on? So far, I think that my take on providing story, my interpretation of Boy meet Girls, Boy loses Girl and Boy then gets Girl, will take you on a journey you’ll enjoy.

12) Do you think of yourself as an artist, or as a craftsman, a blend of both?

I had not been thinking of myself as an artist until recently. Then I realized that these stories and tales are art. And that while I have fun with them, they are as much art as some of those writers I read. Then there is craft to this as well. Knowing how to string words together. But to weave in plot points and subplots so the characters become more than one dimensional. That has taken time to learn and develop.

So so be successful at storytelling, I have become both. But it is a kick to be an artist.

13) Where should we look for your work?

I can be found at the iBookstore, and Amazon, Nook and other online places for eBooks as well as physical books. I have created one webpage that sums it all up which I humbly (proudly, arrogantly, annoyingly) titled David’s books:

http://davidsbooks.regencyassemblypress.com/davidsbooks.html

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That Wicked Princess on the Heath

Put a Queen on trial for adultery and you’re bound to create factions. Even today, Anne Boleyn is represented alternatively as a pure innocent and an incestuous witch with six fingers. Similarly, Queen Caroline, consort of George IV, gets an uneven treatment in the history books. There are those that see an affair lurking with any man she spoke to, and those that naively discredit some strong evidence. Either way, no one seems able to entirely acquit this Princess who, in her own servant’s words, was “very fond of f*cking”.

The scandals about Caroline date right back to her youth in Brunswick. She often met a little shepherd boy out in her walks and went back to his “hovel” with him to see how his family did. To me, this fits in perfectly with Caroline’s life-long obsession with children and general inquisitiveness. Moreover, she was always generous to the poor. But rumours flew about that this little shepherd boy was actually her son.

It seems likely that Caroline did have a love affair while at Brunswick, though I doubt she went so far as to  bear an illegitimate child. She was kept under close guard by her parents and watched constantly, lest she talk to and flirt with young men on the dance floor. There must have been a reason for this. Her parents, the Duke and Duchess of Brunswick, were not the type of people to overreact and be needlessly strict. I imagine that Caroline’s winningly honest and open conversation got her into some early scrapes, from which they were keen to protect her in future.

Caroline spoke, with her usually lack of tact, of a man she had been very much in love with but was forbidden to marry, due to his low rank. Perhaps this was an Irish officer in her father’s army, who she was seen to be partial to. Or perhaps, as is often the case with Caroline, it was a blatant lie.  She said this to Lady Jersey, her husband’s mistress, almost immediately after her arrival in England, when Lady Jersey had openly insulted her. I consider it a proud backlash, a kind of “well, it doesn’t matter to me if the Prince loves you; he’s not my first choice.”

There was a Prince, however, whom Caroline insisted she had loved her whole life long. This was Prince Louis Ferdinand of Prussia. Her father wanted the match as badly as she did. But the Prussian suit, like so many others in Caroline’s teenage years, mysteriously dissolved. The very lack of evidence as to why the matches were given up is telling. It seems to me that there was some stain upon Caroline’s character that the European monarchies, once they discovered it, were unwilling to forgive.

George IV was later to state his conviction that Caroline was not a virgin when she came to his marriage bed in 1795. Unfortunately, his testimonies are about as trustworthy as Caroline’s. George’s friends admitted that, if he told a story often enough, he came to believe it was the truth. Not content with complaining about Caroline’s smell and generally horrid body, he insisted she was “not new” and mentioned that on the second night, seeing his suspicions, she mixed up some tooth powder and water to stain her nightgown. However, his only “evidence” of her experience is that she made a complimentary comment about the size of his wedding tackle (notice how George always manages to chuck in a comment about how great he is, even when slagging off others). One can’t help but feeling this is just a furious response to Caroline’s allegations that he was impotent. If Caroline did make the comment, I see nothing in it to suggest she wasn’t a virgin. It could either be another desperate attempt to win the affection of her stroppy husband or a natural remark of surprise; Caroline never was one to use the brain to mouth filter.

However, it was when Caroline moved to Blackheath, after her unofficial separation with George, that the rumours really started. Caroline delighted in pronouncing herself “that wicked Princess on the heath, she is such a rake, such a rioter, and such an irregular person, that she makes rebellions, and mutinies, in every well-regulated house – but she comes from abroad and so she is good for nothing”. It seems very natural that the affectionate Princess, who always was fond of flirting, went a little overboard when she found her freedom. Moreover, she loved to cause a scandal. But I don’t subscribe to the view that she pretty much humped anything in trousers during her years on the Heath. She had been told early on by Lord Malmesbury that she would incur the death penalty by committing adultery, and was clearly much struck by it.

George Canning, a promising Pittite MP, had known Caroline before her exile to the Heath and the pair were clearly in love. Some historians have decided the affair wasn’t very serious, given that he married another woman soon after. But Canning confessed that if he had not met his wife, Miss Scott, “I know not how I should have resisted, as I ought to do, the abundant and overpowering temptation to the indulgence of a passion which must have been dangerous, perhaps ruinous, to her who was the cause of it.” Apparently, Caroline and he agreed together that his marriage was the only “effectual remedy to all the danger and…our escape”.  Caroline continued friendly with the Cannings all of her life. When she was put on trial for adultery in 1820, Canning risked the fury of the King and refused to have anything to do with the proceedings.  His writing about escaping danger and ruin suggest that he and Caroline did not consummate their love, but there was clearly much foreplay. When she received a letter from George telling her they “should not be answerable to one another”, she showed it to Canning and asked what it meant. He told her it “freed her entirely” and they “took advantage of it on the spot”.

The next of Caroline’s lovers on the Heath was a dashing naval hero, Sir Sidney Smith. In character, he seemed much like Caroline and I am not surprised to two hit it off. But Smith came hand in hand with the friends he was staying with, the Douglases. And this is where it all gets a bit complicated.

The Douglases and Smith were Caroline’s bosom friends until, without much explanation, she threw them over and took up with Captain Mamby instead. The Douglases later insisted that Caroline had been pregnant and confided in them alone. But if that was the case, she would have kept thick with them. She may have been giddy, but Caroline was certainly not fool enough to tell someone such an explosive secret then make an enemy of them. It is my opinion that Caroline purposefully wound up the Douglases with tall tales, due to her own jealousy.

Her first attack on the Douglases was to send anonymous letters to Lord Douglas, featuring pictures of Lady Douglas and Sir Sidney Smith in amorous situations; or, as Caroline put it “Sir Sidney Smith doing your amiable wife”. Although Lady Douglas maintained that her husband always believed in her innocence, he didn’t act that way. He went storming over to Smith and demanded an explanation. Naturally, Smith denied everything – but was he telling the truth?

If Caroline had found out, mid-affair with Smith, that he was also a past or present lover of Lady Douglas, it would explain her sudden hatred of her friend. It would also explain why she purposefully infuriated Smith by playing footsie with Mamby at a dinner party. She was jealous, and wanted to make him jealous too. It seems that, after all the hoo-ha, she decided she liked Mamby better anyway.

The love-struck Caroline followed Mamby across the country to the docks of his ships and entrusted two of her “charity boys” to his care. She was later to claim that Mamby had smuggled an illegitimate son of her old flame, Prince Louis Ferdinand, across the seas for her. This was the boy Willy Austin, the “Deptford child”, whom the Douglases claimed was the Princesses own. I think both sides are lying here. I believe Willy was the son of Sophia Austin; Caroline, as always, loved making mischief and found she could do so here with a good excuse for trailing after Mamby.

It was around this point that George III reluctantly agreed to investigate her behaviour – “The Delicate Investigation” – and Caroline appears to have pulled her act together after this.  A few rumours circulated in the following years about Captain Hesse, who was courting Caroline’s daughter, Charlotte. Hesse followed Caroline on her Continental journey and remained a loyal attendant. Personally, I believe he was sincerely attached to the family and loved only Charlotte. But many people, Charlotte included, thought otherwise.

It was on this trip to the Continent that Caroline met the man who was to be her downfall: Pergami. This was the adulterous relationship she was put on charge for. She was lucky that, since it took place abroad, the death sentence could not apply. I, along with Georgian contemporaries, believe that the relationship was “pure in-no-sense”. But Caroline’s guilt or innocence was not what mattered to the mobs of the day; they were more concerned with humiliating the King.

But despite my belief in her guilt, I don’t think Caroline’s relationship with Pergami was as bad as it was represented. Her lawyer Brougham did a brilliant job of highlight that the witnesses against her were bribed for their evidence. They had been rehearsed for certain questions and answers and were completely clueless when asked things not on their script: “I do not remember” being a favourite answer. There were others who were downright liars. One mentioned riding beside Caroline’s coach, looking through the curtains and seeing her and Pergami with their hands placed on one another’s private parts. This was later exposed as complete nonsense; the man in question never rode beside the coach, the coach had blinds, not curtains, a third person always travelled with them and the set up of the coach made it impossible for anyone to sit in that position.

Brougham, who confessed to disliking Caroline, later decided that Pergami’s swift promotions through her household had more to do with his child than anything else. It is true that Caroline adored children and made friends with anyone who had them. Pergami’s daughter slept in her bed and called her “Mamma”. But while pictures of this little girl littered Caroline’s houses, so did pictures of her father. He was always moved into bedrooms near Caroline’s. And while his family were all invited to become members of Caroline’s staff, there was one glaring exception: his wife.

It is my belief that Caroline really loved Pergami and would have been happy living with her adopted Italian “family”. But her pride and her need to beat George IV summoned her back to England, where she ultimately died. She did not speak of Pergami at the end, although she wrote to him a few times while in England and remembered his daughter in her will.

As for the other lovers, I can’t be sure how far the relationships went. I am sure there was much kissing and, as Flora Fraser puts it,  “heavy petting” going on, but I’m not convinced Caroline would risk full on sexual affairs in England under the noses of her husband and uncle. But by the time she was with Pergami, free on the Continent and past the age where pregnancy was a risk, it was a different story.

Should she be condemned? England did not believe so; after all, her husband’s affairs were more numerous and sordid. And is it any wonder that a poor Princess, shunned and called ugly by the only man she was legally allowed to sleep with, was delighted to find others who thought her attractive? No; it seems quite natural to me that Caroline succumbed to Pergami and his wonderful moustachios.

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Prepare for Launch

I had to show you this beautiful screenshot from The Madness of King George. Not only does it capture the relationship between Charlotte and her husband; it is perfectly accurate to the smallest detail. There’s the King’s Windsor uniform, there’s the pearl bracelets Charlotte always wore, which are identical to the point of actually having George III’s portrait in them! Such a small, graceful touch. Did the costume designer have any idea there were geeks like me out there to pick up on and love these nods to the history books? It’s unlikely that many movie goers had even heard of, let alone studied, Queen Charlotte. But in went the bracelet anyway; firstly, as their homage to Charlotte and keeping her real, secondly because they believed there were people out there who would smile.

This brings me nicely on to the topic of this week’s blog post. I’ve been a little nervous about writing it, because I’m taking a bold move. As you know, God Save the King has been doing its round of queries over many months. I have to say I’m very pleased with its reception, even though I haven’t gained representation. I’ve had requests for more, praise of the characters and style, fascination with the subject matter. So why no agent?

The answer has come from the agents themselves: it’s a bit of a risk. I’m not saying there aren’t agents out there willing to take risks, but we have to remember times are difficult in the publishing industry. Many houses are only buying up sure sells, and for historical fiction, that’s mainly Tudors. If I’d written a book that just happened to be set in the Georgian period, I don’t think that would be a problem. But as I’ve gone into the depths others have only plunged with the Tudor, or more recently Plantagenet, royal families – who knows if it will appeal? Or, more importantly, sell?

I guess where others see uncertainty and risk, I see untapped potential. I think the only reason people don’t read about the Georgian royal families is that the books aren’t out there.  Personally, as a historical fiction reader, I’m bored to death of the same old stuff on the shelves. I leapt on Gillian Bagwell’s lovely The Darling Strumpet, because it was a different period with people I knew little about. While I love the Tudors, I’ve read about Anne Boleyn’s execution from every angle. I don’t need any more.

Now if I was thinking more of my writing career, I’d probably just dump the Hanovers and take up one of the ideas I have (and I have several!) for books set in the more popular Roman and Tudor periods. But I just can’t do that. I have a passion for the Georgian period and a strong belief in its relevance. I love these long dead women who I have spent literally years in the company of. I want their stories to be told. And I want to be the one to tell them.

Someone has to take a risk for the Georgians. If the agents and the publishers aren’t prepared to, it has to be me.  So with the help of the many professionals now available on the web, a lot of technical help from the husband and, I sincerely hope, your support, I plan to publish God Save the King as an ebook.

By doing so, I don’t mean to declare myself an irrevocable Indie author. In the long-term, I honestly want the support, imput, revisions, ideas and general wonderfulness of an agent and publisher. It is something I will aim for with each new book I write, and hopefully, by the time I’m midway through my series, I will have proved there is a market. So… here goes.

I’ve been doing some work in the background before announcing this, but I want to give myself plenty of time to make my product as perfect as it can be. With this in mind, my proposed launch date is 8 September 2012. This is a very special day indeed – George and Charlotte’s 251st wedding anniversary.

I will keep you updated with my progress, trials and tribulations. Thanks for reading. God Save the King!

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