Sympathy for Georgian courtiers? For those fawning hypocrites, sticklers for protocol, whose bloated egos were matched only by their vast and unearned wealth? Give us stories of how beastly they were to each other, how cold, pompous and ridiculous – but spare me the sympathy.
But they didn’t all want to be there. Peter the Wild Boy was a real wild one. “Captured” as a child in the woods near Hanover, he was taken to court as a curiosity. Knowing no languages, his feral antics were an amusing contrast, they thought, to the polished performances of the sophisticates at St James’ Palace. He was trained (his legs beaten for misdeeds of which he was unaware) but, like a toy, he eventually lost his appeal. In his free moments he visited the stables to “speak” with the horses.
Henrietta Howard was with a man who thought little of her. George II believed his position required a royal mistress whether he wanted one or not. Worse, for Henrietta, she was also Bedchamber Woman to the Queen, a position which required her to hold a wash basin before Charlotte. Not only did she endure snide remarks from the king’s wife but he would come in to criticise her work, too.
She endured this, as did many other courtiers, because of a prevailing belief that serving royalty was an honourable calling. It was also, of course, where the power to make or unmake resided, something of which Robert Walpole was keenly aware. Britain’s longest-serving first minister is remembered for being mercilessly lampooned in John Gay’s The Beggar’s Opera, but Gay himself was in pursuit of a post and only quit after the position he was offered – Gentleman Usher to the baby Princess Louisa – he considered too low.
There was not one court but two – the king’s and that of the Prince of Wales. Power resided in the former but he was older. A calculation was required – the longevity of the monarch versus the potential munificence of his heir. Required because the king insisted all courtiers choose between him and his son.
For father and son had had one almighty row. It began when the king appointed a crony as godfather to his new grandson, which the Prince of Wales took as unwarranted interference. The king had his way but, during the christening, the prince threatened to either “fight” or “find” the unwelcome official. In response the king evicted his son and daughter-in-law from St James, insisting their children remain behind, and banned the parents from seeing them.
Rulers behaving badly provided ample opportunity for gossipy courtiers. Lucy Worsley, Chief Curator at Historic Royal Palaces, which looks after Hampton Court, Kew Palace, the Banqueting House and the Tower of London as well as Kensington Palace, trawls through the diaries of those who were there, and others, like Horace Walpole, son of Robert, who weren’t but befriended dowagers who were.
Worsley, however, resists the temptation to take juicy anecdotes at face value, and provides a multi-layered portrayal of the court’s main characters and events. She rejects the stereotype of George II as an ill-tempered boor, and in his wife sees a woman of intelligence stifled by the mores of her position.
Particular sympathy is shown to royal mistresses. It was an opportunity for women in a world where little existed for them. But also insecure – the fear that the king would soon tire of you and take another. What was going through Mary Deloraine’s mind the day she pulled the chair from under George II and lost her lover’s love forever? He had laughed at her that day, but she was not allowed to laugh at him.
Those were the rules and the courtiers had to play by them. Worsley extends her sympathy to include the kings; neither George I nor George II expected to rule England, yet both undertook an office which by its nature ensured their family life suffered. Their life of privilege means my sympathy is limited – but I certainly now understand more, thanks to this well-researched and well-written book.
