A lovely endorsement by Leanda de Lisle

I am so pleased that the wonderful Leanda de Lisle has provided a lovely quote for the front covers of The Emperors, which is due to be released on 28th August. Leanda described the book as, "A family story of the royal rivalries that tore Europe apart, full of fire and tragedy." Leanda is not just the author of one of my favourite historical biographies (The Sisters Who Would Be Queen), but she is also the god-daughter of Tsar Nicholas II's younger sister, the Grand Duchess Xenia Alexandrovna, who fled to Britain after the Revolution.

The book is available from Amazon UK, Amazon US, Amazon Deutschland and Amazon Canada.

"George Boleyn" competition winner!

Congratulations to Eliza Nastou, who was the winner of our George Boleyn competition. She has won a signed copy of Claire Ridgway and Clare Cherry's new book George Boleyn: Tudor Poet, Courtier and Diplomat by correctly answering the question that actress Natalie Dormer, who played George Boleyn's sister Anne in The Tudors, is currently playing Margaery Tyrell in HBO's Game of Thrones.

The death of George Boleyn: A guest post and blog tour

It's been quite the start to summer for fans of Tudor biographies, with studies on the lives of those usually defined by their relationship to the royal family's star players appearing to flesh out our knowledge of Henry VIII's dazzling but terrifying court. First, Lauren Mackey's biography of Eustace Chapuys, the prolific diplomat whose correspondence all historians owe a debt to, and secondly Clare Cherry and Claire Ridgway's biography George Boleyn: Tudor Poet, Courtier and Diplomat, which seeks to give a fairer understanding of Anne Boleyn's notorious brother, who perished in May 1536 on a fabricated charge of commiting incest with his sister the queen. Described by David Starkey as having all of Anne's confidence but only half her talents, George has recently been resurrected in popular culture in many different guises, featuring the novels, plays, television dramas and movies about the Henrician court.

With so much fascination and even more speculation about George Boleyn, Clare Cherry and Claire Ridgway (above) have teamed up to produce a biography of him, which I'm reading at the moment and which I can certainly recommend. To win your own signed copy of the book, read on to the end of this extract from George Boleyn, an account of his execution and interest in the Reformation. Thank you to the two Cla(i)res for this excerpt; it's a pleasure to host them as part of their blog tour to promote their new book.

***

George Boleyn was executed on Tower Hill on 17^th May 1536. He had gone from palace to prison to execution within 15 days, and it is a testament to his courage and strength of character that he was able to defend himself so well at his trial and give such an impassioned speech on the scaffold, when lesser men would still have been in shock. He made a long penitent speech, which found admiration with the vast crowd gathered to witness the executions. There are a number of different versions of George’s speech, but they all agree on the basic content. Only Chapuys has George confessing that he deserved death for “having so contaminated and so contaminating others with the new sects”, and praying everyone to abandon such heresies. That is clearly not what he said, and is more a matter of wishful thinking by Chapuys.

The site of George Boleyn's execution

 After stepping on to the scaffold, George addressed the crowd:

“I was born under the law, and I die under the law, for as much as it is the law which has condemned me.”

According to two eyewitnesses, he said this three times, almost as if he were collecting his thoughts before continuing. But there was another reason. To say he died “under the law”, rather than admitting his guilt, was the closest he dared go to declaring his innocence. Therefore, he ensured the point was reiterated to the vast crowd of spectators, many of whom knew him personally. He went on to say that he was not there to preach a sermon but to die. He told the vast crowd that he deserved death because he was a wretched sinner who had grievously and often offended. He did not relate his sins, telling the crowd that they would derive no pleasure from hearing them, and that he would derive no pleasure from stating them. He merely said that God knew them all. He warned everyone present to use him as an example, especially his fellow courtiers. He warned them “not to trust in the vanity of the world, and especially in the flatterings of the Court, and the favour and treacheries of Fortune”, which he said raised men up only to “dash them again upon the ground”. He blamed fortune for his current pitiful condition - or rather, he blamed himself, saying he had leaned too heavily on fortune, “who hath proved herself fickle and false unto me”. He said he prayed for the mercy of God, and that he forgave all men. He begged forgiveness of God and of anyone he might have offended. He begged those present to ask anyone not there to forgive him if he had offended them, and he told them that “having lived the life of a sinner, I would fain die a Christian man.”

There has been much speculation in the latter part of the twentieth and the early years of the twenty-first century about what it was to which George Boleyn was referring to when he said he was a wretched sinner who deserved death, but refused to name his sins. The condemned had their families to protect, and no protestations of innocence would have been acceptable to the Crown. Besides, it was the honourable thing to accept that death was deserved. The Christian doctrine was that we are all sinners deserving of death because of original sin. The shame and dishonour George says he dies for is clearly the incest conviction (“with worse shame and dishonour than hath ever been heard of before”), but at no point in the speech does he make an admission of the offence of which he had been found guilty.

Though one of the sins he refers to, but does not mention, is suggested to be sodomy, there is no evidence for this. George Cavendish suggests that George was referring to promiscuity. This may have been partly true, but the behaviour for which he apologises could refer to an amalgamation of supposed sins. Although George did not ask for the King’s forgiveness, he did ask forgiveness of anyone whom he might have offended. Indeed, he went further than this and virtually begged for forgiveness. As a Christian man about to face death, he would have been acutely aware of his flaws and faults. He was proud, and totally lacked humility. He was typically ruthless and self-seeking for a man of the age. He sat at the trial of Thomas More and was present at the appalling executions of the Carthusian monks, despite his protestations of being a “Christian man”. He showed no sympathy or compassion towards Catherine of Aragon or her daughter Mary. We do not know how he treated his wife, but his reputation as a high-living womaniser would support the notion that he was not ideal husband material. He had even turned his back on his sister Mary in her hour of need. When facing death, George Boleyn, a highly intelligent and religious man, would have been painfully aware of these failings. Hence his speech went above and beyond that which was expected of him.

He admitted he had relied too heavily on fortune and trusted too much in the vanity of the world and the flattery of the court. His positions of favour and power had resulted in sycophantic flattery by friends and enemies alike, and he had swallowed it whole. He had waltzed around the court with an air of arrogance in the certainty of his position, and because of his confidence in himself and the respect in which he was held. Yet those same people who had fawned over him were here now, watching him die. It was all false, and only at the very end did he realise this.

In his speech he went on to highlight his religious convictions, as previously quoted in the chapter on religion, before finishing by praying “God save the King”. Knowing the sort of irreverence to which George Boleyn was prone, this last sentence could be read with a great deal of irony; but whatever was happening to him, his upbringing would never have allowed him to think ill of the King. As far as George was concerned, this was his own fault.

Following his speech, he calmly and courageously knelt down, placed his head on the block, and submitted his neck to the axe. His head was removed with a single stroke, and his severed head was held up to the crowd as the executioner intoned the words, “So ends the lives of all the King’s enemies.” George Boleyn had many faults, but treason had never been one of them, and Henry must have known that. None of the men’s heads were put on display on spikes, as was usual with convicted traitors; this would surely have been the case if Henry seriously thought they were guilty, just as Thomas Culpeper’s would be five years later. It was the only small consideration that Henry showed his innocent friends. George’s body and head were taken to the Chapel of St Peter ad Vincula within the Tower, where his sister would join him two days later. The other men were buried in two graves, two men in each, in the chapel graveyard.

It is unlikely, as Chapuys alleges, that Anne was forced to watch the executions of her brother and friends, but she may have seen the men congregated together before they were marched out of the Tower - perhaps allowing her one last look at her beloved brother. One man who did witness the executions was Thomas Wyatt, who was imprisoned in the Tower still and who wrote about them in verse, illustrating the danger of being too close to the throne:

“These bloody days have broken my heart.

My lust, my youth did them depart,

And blind desire of estate.

Who hastes to climb seeks to revert.

Of truth, circa Regna tonat.

The Bell Tower showed me such a sight

That in my head sticks day and night.

There did I learn out of a grate,

For all favour, glory, or might,

That yet, circa Regna tonat.”

In a way this verse reiterates the words of George Boleyn on the scaffold, when he warned his listeners not to trust the vanities of the world and the flattery of the court. His “blind desire of estate” and his “haste to climb” had led him to this end. This was certainly the passage of his speech that was specifically remembered by most of those present, particularly courtiers. On 18 September 1536, John Husee had cause to write to Lady Lisle, “but now I remember my Lord of Rochford’s words, who exhorted every man to beware of the flattering of the court.” There was many a young courtier who heard those words with trepidation.

George’s body and head were taken to the Chapel of St Peter ad Vincula within the Tower, where his sister would join him two days later.

(Taken from George Boleyn: Tudor Poet, Courtier andDiplomat)

Notes and Sources

* Bentley, Samuel, ed. Excerpta Historica Or, Illustrations of English History. London, 1831, pp. 261–5.

*  LP x. 908

* Constantine, George. Archaeologia, Or, Miscellaneous Tracts Relating to Antiquity. Vol. 23. ed. T Amyot, The Society, 1831, pp. 64-6.

*  Gruffudd, Elis. “Gruffudd’s Chronicle”. The National Library of Wales.

*  St Clare Byrne, Muriel, ed. The Lisle Letters. Vol. 3. University of Chicago Press, 1981, p491.

* The Chronicle of Calais In the Reigns of Henry VII and Henry VIII to the Year 1540 (ed. Gough Nichols, John).

* Thomas, William, The Pilgrim, London, 1861, pp.116-17

* Wriothesley, Charles. A Chronicle of England During the Reigns of the Tudors, from A.D. 1485 to 1559. ed. Camden Society 1875., pp. 39-40.

COMPETITION

Win a signed copy of George Boleyn: Tudor Poet, Courtier and Diplomat by Clare Cherry and Claire Ridgway by answering this question. Please submit your answers like a comment, complete with your e-mail address; neither will be published. But when we use a generator to randomly select a winner from the entrants, it'll be helpful to have your e-mail address for me to let you know you've won! The e-mail addresses, perhaps needless to say, will not be passed on to any third parties. (Also please leave comments about the article, with any of your own thoughts or queries about George Boleyn, Lord Rochford. It's always a pleasure for authors to hear from people interested in their work!)
QUESTION: George Boleyn's sister Anne was played by English actress Natalie Dormer in the Showtime series "The Tudors". What is the name of the queen she is currently playing in HBO's medieval fantasy "Game of Thrones"? 

The competition closes on Thursday 12th June 2014. Thank you.

Review: "Inside the Tudor Court" by Lauren Mackay

I once came across a comment on-line from Lauren Mackay fairly highlighting the difference between a blogger and an historian, and rather self-deprecatingly pointing out that having achieved her masters she did not yet consider herself an historian. It is therefore something of a relief that she has since used the work undertaken for her MA to pen this wonderful biography of Eustace Chapuys, the Hapsburgs' ambassador to England for most of the last two decades of Henry VIII's reign.

In much the same way as Chapuys' negative appraisal of Anne Boleyn helped shape her historiography for so many years, the academic swing in her favour following Eric Ives's 1986 biography saw Chapuys cast in the light of a malign intriguer who got more wrong than right when it came to Boleyn - and, by an extension of logic, everyone around her. Mackay sets out to rescue her subject from this two-dimensional view and she does so with great success. If Anne Boleyn was much more than suggested by Chapuys, he too is worth a lot more than the Anne Boleyn matter. The biography brims with the author's passion for her subject, beginning with a charming and vivid account of his home town in Annecy, where he is still commemorated in street names and local architecture. Mackay does well too where the sources are silent by sketching the broad outlines of his life before he was sent to England in 1529, freely admitting that there is much we do not know about Chapuys's life but credibly suggesting various possibilities based on what we do know. It's what all Tudor historians have to do from time to time, it's full of pitfalls and Mackay does better than most in weaving her way through it. Once Chapuys gets to England, where his legal training was intended to help the beleagured Katherine of Aragon, Mackay is able to make use of the mountains of letters that her subject wrote to the Emperor and the picture becomes clearer still.

Mackay's strengths are not just her zeal for the thin and rather elegant man she's writing about, but also her ability to analyse his thoughts and to make full use of his lengthy and colourful correspondence. She is right when she points out that without Chapuys's letters Tudor history, as we know it, would not exist. There were a few times when I did not agree with her conclusions and I thought there were one or two moments when she was slightly too prepared to take Chapuys at face value. However on moments when I, or any reader, might disagree with Mackay's conclusions on certain minor points they are still well-argued and well-written enough to be taken seriously and respected. There are no unreasonable assessments in Inside the Tudor Court and she presents the information clearly enough that she allows her readers to make their own conclusions. She invites them, as it were, to share her enthusiasm for Charles V's servant.

This is a wonderfully useful book that brings to life the colourful and often confusing world of the Henrician court, as seen through the eyes of one of its most gifted if controversial observers. Lauren Mackay deserves considerable praise for setting Chapuys back in his context and reminding us, regardless of whom he quarrelled with or why, what a debt we all owe him. She makes him both an esteemed intellectual but entirely human, she allows him her foibles - I particularly enjoyed the point she makes about his correspondence's relative lack of descriptions of the English court's numerous entertainments: he didn't enjoy them and thought them slightly frivolous, so he told the Emperor he wouldn't bore him with the details. There has long been a need for a biography of this brilliant and complex figure and Lauren Mackay has certainly delivered it.

My new book

I am feeling very blessed that 2014 is proving to be such a busy and exciting year. After wrapping up The Gate of the Year in Belfast in spring, I am delighted to say that Amberley will be publishing my first non-fiction book, The Emperors, an account of the German, Russian and Austro-Hungarian monarchies during the First World War. The book will be released on 28 August 2014 and followed not longer after by the first volume of my history of the British monarchy, subtitled And the Sword Gleamed, with MadeGlobal Publishing. 

More information about The Emperors, which was such a fun and exciting piece to write!

On 28 June 1914, the heir to the Austro-Hungarian throne was assassinated on a visit to Sarajevo by a Serbian nationalist called Gavrilo Princip. The assassination set in motion the events that led to the outbreak of the First World War, one of the bloodiest conflicts in human history and a trauma that would bring down the Austro-Hungarian Empire, ending nearly eight centuries of Hapsburg rule and unleashing unrest across the European continent. By the end of that conflict, not only had the Austro-Hungarian Empire crumbled but the other two imperial rulers of Europe, Kaiser Wilhelm II of Germany and Tsar Nicholas II of Russia, had lost their grip on power. The three great monarchies of Europe had fallen. Over in Britain, the first cousin of both the Kaiser and the Tsar, George V, successfully retained the crown.

In this new book, Gareth Russell tells the story of the Austrian, German and Russian imperial families during the four years of the First World War and the political and personal struggles that brought about their ruin.

 The Emperors has already been listed on Amazon UK and Amazon US.

"The man who could have saved the French monarchy"?: Amos McCormack gives an interview about playing a modernised version of Monsieur Necker

With his name Anglicised to Jack Necker and his vocation modernised into one of television interviews and mass party rallies, The Gate of the Year's interpretation of Louis XVI's penultimate prime minister before the storming of the Bastille is certainly very different to the original. Born in Switzerland in 1732, Jacques Necker emerged as the shining light of French finance in the early part of Louis XVI's reign before public acclaim spurred his appointment as first minister. The move split the Court, with the ultra-royalists horrified that even the Queen, Marie-Antoinette, had supported the promotion of Necker, who was a foreigner, a Protestant and a liberal. If one believed his critics in the palace, he went even further than that and was secretly hoping to turn France into a republic, like his homeland. Actor Amos McCormack played Necker in The Gate of the Year and he's kindly shared his thoughts about the man presented by some as an egotistical opportunist and by others as the pre-revolutionary monarchy's great missed chance; a "what if" that might have prevented the revolution entirely.

Amos, tell us a little bit about your character in The Gate of the Year?

Jack Necker is a smart, wealthy businessman who comes to France from Switzerland. He had a very successful banking career before immersing himself in French politics. Known internationally as an economic genius, Louis XVI had initially hired him as Finance Minister to help curb France’s debt and fund their involvement in the American Revolution; however he became somewhat unpopular with the those he was working for when he made their spending public in his Report to the King, angering a lot of the public; it is sometimes believed to be one of the events that triggered the French Revolution. He was eventually brought back as Prime Minister to once again help lift the county from the uncomfortable situation it had found itself in, in the lead up to the Revolution.

The original frontispiece of Jacques Necker's extraordinarily controversial Report to the King, which royalists claimed was nothing more than a tissue of self-serving lies. 

Necker becomes very angry in Act I, scene vii when he remembers the level of religious discrimination that existed under ancien régime. How much of his personality do you think is defined by a sense of being an outsider?

This aspect was very important to me while playing him. All of the characters I interacted with in the play come from this completely different world, that of the monarchy, which in his eyes had only served to oppress his Protestantism and create a difficult life for those who shared his faith. He steps into the role of Prime Minister knowing full well that he is not welcome and not considered one of them. In all my scenes, this was always in the back of my mind, because I believed it to be extremely important to Necker’s intentions: to make the monarchy aware of how their current system was seen by many groups as a harsh, dominating regime. In this scene where I lose my temper my inner thoughts are made clear; I lay out clearly before all to see the rage that their discrimination creates. In this moment Necker not only becomes the spokesman for all the dissatisfied Protestants under the monarchy, but also the mad crowds of people who will soon attack the ruling monarchy and storm the Bastille.

What parts of Necker's personality did you warm to?

I admire his ambition and determination to succeed, which shines brightly despite the unwelcome environment he finds himself in. He has a strong sense of self-confidence, arguing for his beliefs and what he knows is right, even though he is often standing alone in his opinions. He has straightforwardness about him, firmly speaking out when he wishes to be heard, arriving immediately at the point of what he’s trying to say and not succumbing to ‘beating around the bush’ as it were. Ultimately, I warmed to his strong desire to step in and aid France in its time of need and his attempt to create a system that would be compatible for all.

Duplessis's portrait of the original Jacques Necker

Jacques Necker has been called "the man who could have saved the French monarchy", do you think he believed that?

Yes. It shows in his self-assuredness, his arrogance and in his words. Something which is mentioned in the play but not dwelt upon as much was the fact that this wasn’t the first time Necker had been called to provide service for France in desperate situations. He had been fired and re-hired numerous times and I hold no doubt that this encouraged a self-belief that he was the saviour of France. He was popular with the people and had a plan that showed positive signs of being successful. He had a strong conviction that the absolute monarchy had run its course, and a change would be strongly welcomed.

Amos with Rebecca Lenaghan in rehearsals in Belfast, practicing a scene between Necker and Madame de Polignac

Throughout the play, Necker bears a special animus towards Gabrielle de Polignac (played by Rebecca Lenaghan). What is it about her that you think made him feel that way?

One of the things that I’ve taken from this play is how easy it is for figures in history to become demonised; to be continually portrayed as lacking in compassion or having no respect for human life whatsoever. The members of the French monarchy are often seen in this light: uncaring; aloof; worried only about their wealth and position. For Necker, his dislike of this class of people is embodied in Gabrielle. He sees only the beautiful dresses, the palaces, the luxurious lifestyle. He can’t see past the firm monarchist beliefs or the Catholic faith. Perhaps he knows of her animosity towards him and his policies and sees an enemy in her. Most likely it is also her cleverness in the political field, and the influence she has which irks him as well. I found it unfortunate while playing this character, that there was a certain stubbornness to him; an inability to fully appreciate and recognise the goodness that was inherent in all those whom he met in Versailles, including Gabrielle.

"His God and his country": David Paulin's interview on playing the prince who inspired the ultra-Right

David Paulin as the prince who became Charles X in The Gate of the Year

In the glittering world of high society before the revolution, few stars burned brighter than Louis XVI's youngest brother, Charles. Tall, handsome, athletic, boundlessly exuberant, he was known for his impeccable dress sense, his numerous affairs and constant parties. Gambling, horse racing, the opera, the theatre, balls and banquets were his milieu. He was constantly seen in the company of his charismatic sister-in-law, Marie-Antoinette of Austria, and together they were the poster children for the half a decade after Louis XVI succeeded to the throne in which, in the words of the historian Antal Szerb, they symbolised "the financial self-confidence of an entire generation, or indeed the whole country." But a decade later, the party was over and as the recession birthed a new era of political extremes, Charles (the Comte d'Artois in the original biography, but updated to the Duke of Artois in The Gate of the Year) allied himself firmly with the Right. Detested by the revolutionaries, who prohibited the colour green from appearing in the new French flag because it was the colour of Charles's livery, he quickly emerged as one of the most divisive figures of the early revolution.

Belfast actor David Paulin, who played Cameron Matthews in The Immaculate Deception and the title role in the festival-nominated political satire Clarence, played Charles in The Gate of the Year, the story of the early French Revolution updated to the modern day. Here, he has taken the time to answer questions about the man who was called by one historian "someone who helped destroy the French monarchy, twice" and by another as "a butterfly, broken by reality".

David, what attracted you to the role of Charles in The Gate of the Year?

Charles is an extremely “grey” character in the play. He is neither good nor bad, and he constantly edges the line between heroic acts and villainy. I always find that the audience reaction to a character like that is very interesting and mostly split; it’s that very real and human characteristic of people not being able to make their mind up about a person, and that is very exciting to portray onstage.

What research did you undertake during the rehearsal process?

I read a history of the French Revolution from a Roman Catholic perspective, because I felt that Charles’s faith was so important and I wanted to get that slant on the events. I was lucky enough to be able to meet with David Anderson MBE MVO and he spoke to us about etiquette, which was invaluable. To supplement this, I also read extracts from etiquette books that were extremely interesting. Throughout the rehearsal process, Gareth also would speak to us about various events surrounding the revolution and also in depth about what the characters lives would have been like, which I found incredibly useful in developing the character.

Charles has almost a universally dire reputation amongst historians, even today. What about him surprised you the most?

When I first read the character of Charles I was astounded by his belief in his god and his country. I think it would be easy to mistake this as self-belief but I found that beneath all of the bravado and grandeur Charles was actually an extremely self-doubting and insecure man. I think it is a feeling of uselessness that now plagues Charles in his thirties, once he has grown out of the playboy prince persona he had crafted in his twenties, and I believe that it's this worry of living without purpose which drives most of Charles’s actions in the play. It was when that clicked with me that I found certain elements of his relationships with other characters onstage much easier to portray, especially his relationship with Gabrielle [de Polignac] which was played with perfection by Rebecca Lenaghan (below).

Tell us a little about your favourite scene to play.

I had several scenes that I loved in the play but if I had to choose a favourite it would probably be in the middle of act two - Charles has an incredibly painful and intense scene with his brother Louis. (From the performance, below) It's just an incredible outpouring of emotion about a very complicated relationship and the audience almost sees them for a minute as two little boys fighting over a toy. Even though it's staged against the flames of revolution in Paris, all that falls away and leaves a stripped back and extremely visceral, human scene.

"Because I despise you..."

Which character did you ultimately find the most sympathetic?

I felt a wealth of sympathy for King Louis, who was played excellently by comedian Tom Flight. I think it was something in his very believable performance that transformed Louis from a character who, on the page, I felt an immense amount of frustration towards, into a more sad, sympathetic and human character caught up in a terrible time in French history. I think the added layer of mental illness brought to the character in the way of his clinical depression that is referenced in the play makes him even more sympathetic, because we see him suffer from such a debilitating and misunderstood illness that is barely understood today, let alone years ago.

If you were to return to the role and could add in any scene unseen in The Gate of the Year, what would it be and why?

I think I would want the audience to see Charles after he received the news of the King and Queen’s execution. Although not in the play’s timeline of events, I think it would show a very raw emotion from Charles and reveal the depths of his empathy and compassion for others.