The Crown

Nancy Bilyeau's debut novel The Crown takes readers on an odyssey through the England of Henry VIII during the bloody period of the dissolution of the monasteries as seen from the point of view of a young Dominican novice. There are many aspects of this extraordinary novel that contemporary Catholics will find that they can relate to, namely the confusion in the Church and the compromises of many of her members to political persecution and social expediency, as well as the heroic stand taken by those with the courage to speak truth to power. In Tudor England, speaking truth to power, or even silently trying to follow one's conscience, often meant dying a hideous death. Young Joanna Stafford finds that in those intense times there is no such thing as spiritual mediocrity; either she must take the high road or face perdition. Joanna is not one to settle for less than heroism anyway, having entered a strict Dominican monastery where she looked forward to an austere life of poverty, chastity and obedience. When she leaves the monastery without permission to help a relative who is condemned to death for championing the Catholic faith, she sets off a chain of events which lead her on a spiritual journey into the heart of the mysteries of faith, of sacrifice, and of royal power.

The title of the book signifies a mysterious relic, the crown of a holy Saxon king, which Joanna is commissioned by the wily Bishop Gardiner to find for purposes of his own. Joanna knows that not finding the crown could mean the torture and execution of her father, who already languishes in the Tower of London.Yet, along with the elusive and tangible crown, there are many other awe-inspiring crowns in the novel, the crown of martyrdom, the crown of virginity, the crown of Our Lady, the blood-splattered Tudor crown, the pagan crown of ancient monuments at Stonehenge, the crown of the foundations of a lost monastery and the Crown of Thorns. Even as the symbolism of the crown is repeated throughout the novel, so Joanna finds her vocation tested as she learns to overcome her worst fears. It is a story in which spiritual victory comes as the fruit of earthly defeat.

One plot element in The Crown involves a series of famous tapestries which hold clues to solving several puzzling scenarios. Even as the tapestries are woven by the nuns at Dartford Priory, the author has woven her story so that many clues hidden in the narrative, which make the novel a mystery and a thriller as well as an intriguing work of historical fiction, containing many details of monastic existence and of the struggles of the poor in the sixteenth century. It is refreshing to see the Reformation from a Catholic point of view, one reminiscent of Robert Hugh Benson. I came away from the book marveling at how God's plan is like a vast tapestry of which we only see a tiny portion and yet every thread has a distinct purpose. Through her stumbles and falls, Joanna is confronted with her own weakness yet she rises with new strength, gaining insights which help her to see beyond the surface of things.

Here is my interview with the author Nancy Bilyeau.

(*NOTE: The Crown was sent to me by the publisher in exchange for my honest opinion.)

Interview with Author Nancy Bilyeau

I recently read a magnificent novel, The Crown by Nancy Bilyeau, which deals  with the fate of some English  Dominican nuns during Henry VIII's "reform." I was delighted and honored when Nancy agreed to be interviewed. I will be reviewing the book as well in a future post. To quote from the book description:

An aristocratic young nun must find a legendary crown in order to save her father—and preserve the Catholic faith from Cromwell’s ruthless terror. The year is 1537. . .  

EMV: Nancy, welcome to Lost in the Myths of History! Congratulations on your magnificent novel, The Crown, which I thoroughly enjoyed. I was especially impressed by the research that went into making it one of the most authentic novels of the Tudor era that I have ever read.  You bring to life the beauty and peace of the cloister even as it is about to be destroyed. Can you tell us a little about how you began your journey into the past, and where you found the best sources on such a turbulent, controversial epoch?

NB: I’ve been interested in English history since I was 11 years old and saw a re-broadcast of “The Six Wives of Henry VIII” on television with my parents. Ever since that time, the Tudor period was my particular passion, and I read the major books about the time. I pored through the major biographies, from J.J. Scarisbricke’s Henry VIII to Garrett Mattingly’s Catherine of Aragon. Every time a new biography on Anne Boleyn was published, I bought it. I do think I have all of them. When I began the research for The Crown, I dove into all books and sources on the Dissolution of the Monasteries and the Pilgrimage of Grace, which was the 1536-1537 rebellion in the North against the Protestant reforms. I found some of the most helpful books written almost a century ago: F.A. Gasquet’s English Monastic Life (1906) and Cranage’s The Home of the Monk: An Account of English Monastic Life and Buildings in the Middle Ages (1926).  On the other end of the spectrum, British History Online is an amazing Internet source of contemporary and secondary source documents.

EMV: There are very few novels that tell the story of the dissolution of the monasteries under Henry VIII from the point of view of an insider. The only other novels in a similar vein that I have read are The King’s Achievement by R.H. Benson and Miracle at St. Bruno’s by Philippa Carr. What inspired you to have a nun as your heroine? And why a Dominican nun in particular?

NB: I wanted to write my book from a woman’s point of view but it took me a while to decide which woman. I wanted to write a mystery thriller because I enjoy reading them so much myself. I fused two of my favorite genres: the historical novel and the thriller. So would I have a “real” woman—a queen or princess or lady-in-waiting—as the protagonist? I decided no, that would be too difficult and possibly contrived to have, say, Queen Catherine Parr solving murders when she’s not fending off conspiracies to drive her off the throne. I wanted a fictional heroine, someone who is doing interesting things in a turbulent time. I have always been intrigued by nuns, and so I thought it could yield high drama, to write a nun’s story at the most fraught moment of the Dissolution of the Monasteries. I picked the Dominicans because I’d read a little bit about Saint Catherine of Siena and she interests me. And Dartford Priory was where I wanted to set the book, and that was the only house of Dominican sisters in England pre-Reformation.

EMV: Your heroine, Joanna Stafford, is a zealous soul, in love with God and ready to serve Him with all her heart. However, she sometimes has trouble with obedience which make some of the nuns question her vocation. The upheavals of era disturb the course of her novitiate as well. Do you think, under normal circumstance, that Joanna would have been happy being a nun?

NB: Yes I do. In my conception of her, Joanna finds a peace and a sense of fulfillment in Dartford Priory that she’d known nowhere else in her life. And she has the intelligence and resilience to succeed at it. I thought a lot about the spirituality of my heroine. I didn’t want to make her a nun forced to enter a priory. For one thing, my research yielded the fact that that didn’t happen very often in late medieval England. The image of the wild and restless girl imprisoned in a convent—it’s not too accurate. When Henry VIII’s commissioners seeking to “reform” the monasteries made their visits across the country, the nuns were asked, together and sometimes separately, if they wanted to leave, and very few did. And after the dissolution, some nuns continued to live in small groups and try to carry out their vocations for the rest of their lives. In Dartford, a half-dozen of the real nuns ended up leaving England after the reign of Queen Mary and lived in near-poverty in Holland.

EMV: I thought that your portrayal of Katherine of Aragon was especially powerful. She knew Henry better than anyone, having been married to him the longest, and the pieces of information that slip out when she makes her brief appearances in the novel are tantalizing. What made you focus on Katherine rather than the other wives?

NB: Oh her image has suffered so badly. Today people seem to feel that the middle-aged, stout woman should have stepped aside for the young, sexy lady-in-waiting. Just give up your husband, throne—and your dignity. I think you’ll agree that very few women today would feel that way about a friend who had been married to a man for 20 years. Katherine of Aragon was a very, very popular and beloved woman with the commoners, the nobility, and the monastic orders of her country. There was a reason for this! She was kind, generous, highly intelligent, gracious, decisive, and devout. She was fierce in time of war; when Henry was in France she defended the country capably against Scottish invasion. In her youth Katherine was beautiful. Katherine supported what we would consider today a feminist position: She believed her daughter Mary could rule the kingdom as a queen. Katherine’s mother, Isabella, ruled in her own right, and that family had a history of very strong and capable female rulers: Margaret of Austria and Mary of Hungary spring to mind. But Anne Boleyn has such a fix on our collective imaginations that readers today often root against Katherine and Mary—and for Anne to become queen and have that son Henry wanted. It’s rather bizarre.

EMV: I also loved your depiction of Katherine’s daughter, Mary. So often she is shown as being dour, bitter and depressed, but in The Crown she is every inch the granddaughter of Isabella of Castile, determined, savvy and authoritative. What are your thoughts on Mary’s complicated psyche?

NB: I feel Mary’s reputation has suffered enormously too, in this case in comparison to Anne Boleyn’s daughter, Elizabeth. Mary is seen as weak and vindictive and cruel. Yet how strong she was! She defied her father’s tyranny for so long and supported her mother in exile. She only submitted to him when it was a question of her survival and she was urged to sign the papers by Eustace Chapuys, the Emperor’s ambassador. She stood up to constant pressure from her younger half-brother to forsake her religion. Edward and his minsters would certainly have taken harsh measures against her if not for Mary’s Hapsburg relatives. And then very few people expected her to raise an army and take the country when Edward died—to fight for her right to succeed. But she did it and with amazing courage. And Mary brought forth the same loyalty among friends and servants as her mother did—more than Elizabeth did later. Mary never minded when her ladies got married and had children—she gave them presents and stood as godmother over and over. Now Mary suffered psychologically through all of this. Her naturally kind and generous nature did darken in some respects, though not as much as people think today. “Bloody Mary” is such a tragic legacy.

EMV: In the novel, Joanna and the other nuns have taken the Oath, and yet they admire the courage of those who died rather than take it, such as the Carthusians and Thomas More and Bishop Fisher. I never realized that so many nuns did take the Oath and yet they were dissolved anyway. Why was Cromwell so determined to destroy consecrated life in England, especially when the monks, nuns and friars did so much good work in health care, education, and feeding the hungry?

NB: It was a financial imperative. The country was approaching bankruptcy. The land grab of the monasteries—that is what it was—poured more than a million pounds into the royal treasury. The King and Cromwell assured people that hospitals and schools would replace the abbeys and monasteries that were emptied and often destroyed but that rarely happened. The money went to building new palaces and to war, mostly. Also the property was turned over to courtiers so that they would be more bound to the king than ever. There are social problems in the late 16^th century that some historians attribute to the loss of the safety net provided by the Catholic orders. And there were other sorts of losses. For example, at Dartford Priory the sisters educated the girls from local families. After the priory was destroyed, no one else taught the Dartford girls to read in an organized way for many, many years—centuries, actually. A grammar school was formed in the town in 1576, but that was just for the boys.

 NB: Cromwell was also someone who supported Martin Luther’s ideas and so he had that motivation. Henry VIII had an extremely complicated and ambivalent attitude toward the monastic orders. He tried in the beginning to personally persuade some of the leading friars—the men who became the Carthusian martyrs—to see the divorce from his point of view and agree to support him as head of the Church of England. But when they repeatedly refused, they were starved, tortured and then killed in the most painful way possible. Henry himself did not ever support Luther and many times tugged the religion of his country back. One of the other reasons besides need for money that Henry VIII pushed through the Dissolution of the Monasteries was that he did not want hotbeds of educated men and women loyal to the Pope thriving in his country. There was monastic support for Pilgrimage of Grace, and that strengthened his resolve to crush the abbeys. Once they were turned out from their homes and could not wear their habits or practice their faith in the same way, friars, monks and nuns were no threat.

EMV: One of the aspects of the book which most intrigue me are the Howard tapestries which contain messages and symbols woven into them. Did such tapestries really exist?

NB: These specific tapestries all come from my imagination. Tapestries were a beautiful and thriving art form in medieval and early modern England. One of the good things about Henry VIII is that he collected and appreciated tapestries. Nuns wove and embroidered tapestries during this time period, though the larger ones were woven in France and the Low Countries. So I took the next step, and had my Dartford Priory become a center of tapestry production. It helped me strengthen one of my themes and that was how much the sisters lived and worked as a team. I was absolutely thrilled to receive an email from a Dominican sister in the United States saying that she’d read my book and I got right the essential nature of the life of the sisters and how they interacted with the friars.

EMV: Do you think England suffered in the long run from the dissolution of the monasteries?

NB: I can’t say that England would be better off if it had remained a Catholic country, like France and Spain. That is too enormous a question. But I can say that England suffered from the destruction of those beautiful buildings. There is so little to see of these magnificent abbeys and priories today, it’s just heartbreaking. Most of them were torn down and stripped for the value of the bricks and the lead. The Dominican monastery in London called Blackfriars was famous throughout Europe for its beauty and magnificence. When the Emperor Charles visited his aunt, Katherine of Aragon, in the 1520s, he stayed at Blackfriars, not at one of Henry VIII’s palaces. It was a huge complex of buildings. Today all that survives of Blackfriars is a piece of crumbling stone wall not more than five feet long. I’ve seen it; there is a small plaque next to the wall in a park. It brought tears to my eyes.

Thank you very much, Nancy, and I can’t wait to read more of Joanna’s adventures in the sequel!

Here is an article by Nancy which tells more about the fate of the nuns of Dartford. 

(*NOTE: The Crown was sent to me by the publisher in exchange for my honest opinion.)

The Sinking of Lusitania

In May 1915 when a German U-boat torpedoed the passenger liner Lusitania over a thousand people – including more than 100 Americans - drowned off the coast of Ireland. Since America was a neutral country the deaths of innocent people caused outrage and this is often cited as the event which brought the USA into the First World War – a sort of precursor of Pearl Harbour. In fact, it would be two years before Woodrow Wilson sent his troops to Europe to participate in that pointless conflict and, on closer inspection, it is clear that there was far more to this attack, which was seen as an example of German aggression, than is immediately apparent.

It is generally accepted now that the ship was carrying arms destined for Britain and her Allies. This fact alone made the ship a legitimate target for a U-boat, particularly when the British blockade of the German fleet was an attempt to starve Germany out and, for some time, it seemed to account for the speed with which Lusitania sank. The explosion caused by the German torpedo was immediately followed by a far bigger explosion and, though nowadays it is believed that this was due to the torpedo igniting coal dust or one of the engines, for a while it was thought that it was due to the igniting of the hidden arms. In a scene reminiscent of the bombing of an Iraqi hospital, which was said to be built over one of Saddam’s arms depots, the innocent passengers were basically used as a human shield. Of course, the killing of civilians (including children and citizens of a neutral country) cannot be excused but I believe that the greater guilt lies not with Walter Schwieger, who captained the U-boat, but with Britain’s First Lord of the Admiralty – Winston Churchill.

Churchill – the man who wrote, when millions of people were dying: “I LOVE this war!” - had sent several ‘top secret’ memos saying that it would be ideal if American ships could be enticed into the areas where U-boats were operating, so that they would be sunk and America would join the Allies. He did not care how many people were killed as long as he succeeded in his war game. Captain Schwieger, on the other hand, had sunk several ships but had always given the crews time to escape. Only days before sinking Lusitania, he surfaced before firing a torpedo at another vessel so that the crew would see him, abandon ship and make their way to safety before they were struck. No one was killed. When he saw Lusitania, he was aware that the ship had sufficient lifeboats for all the passengers. He also knew that a ship like that would take a long time to sink (Titanic took two hours) and, since they were very close to the Irish coast, the passengers would have time to make their way to the shore. In fact, due to the second explosion, the ship listed, rendering half the lifeboats useless and in the ensuing panic, other lifeboats were dropped too hastily into the sea and capsized. The whole ship sank in less than twenty minutes.

A couple of weeks before the ship left New York, the German Embassy in Washington posted a notice warning that all ships bearing the British flag were liable to be attacked. Several prominent bankers also received specific telegrams from some ‘unknown’ source, telling them quite specifically that Lusitania would be torpedoed. Some of them cancelled their passage.

A British battleship, Juno, had been patrolling the waters and could have served as an escort to Lusitania but this ship was recalled to port and no alternative was sent out. British intelligence was aware that the U-boat was operating but no specific warning was sent by Churchill. Lusitania was capable of great speed and could have out-sailed any U-boat, but the owners had ordered the captain to use only some of her engines in order to save fuel, and for the same reason the ship did not zig-zag as others did to make a torpedo attack virtually impossible. Basically, Lusitania was a sitting duck.

The evening before the attack, King George V asked an ambassador whether the USA would enter the war if a U-boat sank Lusitania. Churchill then went on holiday. Who was to blame for the murder of over a thousand people? Who was the real – and more cowardly – aggressor?

Madame du Cayla

Zoé Victoire Talon, Comtesse du Cayla (1785-1852), was the favorite of Louis XVIII in his declining years, as is mentioned in the novel Madame Royale. Madame du Cayla had been educated by Madame Campan with the Bonaparte princesses. She became a lively young matron who suffered in an unhappy marriage. In 1815, she sought the King's protection and his help in keeping the custody of her children. Their friendship grew over the years and by 1820, after the assassination of the Duc de Berry, Louis XVIII kept Madame du Cayla as close to him as possible. By all accounts the relationship was platonic, Louis-Stanislaus being more susceptible to the delights of the mind than those of the flesh. As Lamartine is quoted as saying by Imbert de Saint Amand:

The king's sentiment for this attractive woman had from the first the character of a love which hides from itself, under the name of friendship, what the age of the King and the reserve of the woman did not permit to be to be avowed; he felt an affection for her which he styled paternal, and he called her his daughter, not daring through respect for himself and respect for her, to call her by any other name. (The Duchess de Berry and the Court of Louis XVIII)

Louis XVIII reserved his Wednesdays for keeping company with Madame du Cayla, in which they enjoyed games of backgammon peppered with a great deal of witty repartee. He bestowed upon her the Château de Saint-Ouen as her own, as well as jewels and porcelain. When not in her company he wrote her several letters a day. She was, it seems, the last and greatest love of a man otherwise known for his conniving. According to Hugh Noel Williams in A Princess of Adventure:

Gradually, Madame du Cayla succeeded in establishing almost as complete an ascendency over the mind of Louis XVIII. as she had over his heart, and used it without scruple in the interests of the ultra-Royalist party. 'From the day,' writes Pasquier, 'when M. Decazes had been taken from him by proceedings which had wounded his heart, his self-esteem, and his regard for the royal dignity, the King had only occupied himself with business so that it should not be said that he had given it up.' 2 Weighed down beneath the burden of his infirmities, he had begun to fall into a state of apathy which put him at the mercy of those who resolutely applied themselves to the task of governing him. Occasionally, a flicker of the old spirit would reveal itself, but it was speedily quenched; all he desired now was peace and quiet, and Madame du Cayla would give him none until he had surrendered to her will. To her influence may be traced the fall of the high-minded and patriotic Duc de Richelieu, who had refused to lend himself to the plans of Monsieur [Artois] and his friends ;8 the nomination of Villele as Prime Minister; the ignominious dismissal of Chateaubriand from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and the acceptance by the King of the Septennial Bill of 1824 and other reactionary measures.

The attitude of the different members of the Royal Family towards the favourite is interesting. Monsieur, although he does not appear to have been a party to the plot woven around his helpless brother, at any rate in its early stages, did not scruple to take advantage of it, and repeatedly urged Madame du Cayla to 'ignore the things which spite and folly might say against her, and to enjoy in peace the noble use which she was making of the confidence and affection of the King.'4 The Duchesse d'Angouleme, on the other hand, could not bring herself to countenance a lady to whom gossip had attributed in her youth at least one unorthodox connection, and not only treated her with coldness, but expressed her displeasure at the intimacy which existed between her dame d'atours, Madame de Choisy, and the favourite. At the same time, we may venture to doubt if, at heart, Madame altogether regretted an intrigue which, however unworthy it may have been, had put an end to the dissensions in the Royal Family and was doing so much to promote the interests of the party whom she honoured by her protection.

As for the Duchesse de Berry, less fastidious in her choice of friends than her sister-in-law, she appears to have been on very good terms with the favourite, though she did not at all approve of the King's habit of referring to Madame du Cayla, even in the presence of his family, as 'his third daughter,' which seemed to place that lady on a footing of equality with the Duchesse d'Angouleme and herself; and, on one occasion, she expressed her sentiments upon the matter rather pointedly. However, the relations between the two ladies were, on the whole, excellent; indeed, Madame du Cayla appears to have entertained a real affection for the princess, since she remained faithful to her cause after the Revolution of 1830, corresponded with her frequently, and even intrigued on her behalf.

In spite of everything, it was Madame du Cayla who persuaded Louis XVIII to receive the Last Rites when he was mortally ill. As is related in The Living Age:

Nothing so perplexed and annoyed the Duchess d'AngouIeme and the Count d'Artois, in the last mouths of Louis the Eighteenth's life, as his obstinacy in refusing to receive the archbishop and to submit to the ceremonies which the Catholic Church imposes upon dying moments. He refused, as a condemned man would the visit of the executioner. At length Madame Du Cayla induced him to consent, and in so doing closed the door of the king's apartment against her for the rest of her days. Louis, grateful, made a will in her favor and left it on his desk. But Charles the Tenth entered his brother's cabinet, carried off all the papers, burnt the will, and made a beggarly compensation to Madame Du Cayla of a thousand a year for her life.

Madame de Cayla ended her days at her little palace of Saint Ouen in 1852. While some saw her as a schemer, others saw her as the last vehicle of grace for the ruthless Louis XVIII.

Prince Albert Victor - The Victim of Lurid Lies

A recent BBC documentary about King George and Queen Mary made frequent disparaging references to George’s ‘dissolute’ older brother, Prince Albert Victor, Duke of Clarence and Avondale. Until a few years ago, I was under the impression that ‘Eddy’ as he was known in the family was an unintelligent wastrel and his untimely death on January 14th 1892 was something of a blessing for the country as he would have made a very inept king. Happily, I have since discovered that this image of the prince is without foundation.

So unpleasant is the way in which this poor prince has been presented that he was even, for some bizarre reason (undoubtedly to sell books!) posthumously accused of being – or being associated with – Jack the Ripper! Such a notion is totally without foundation and the stories attempting to make the association become increasingly wayward despite the fact that Court records prove that Prince Eddy was not even in London at the time of the murders! Other books suggest that he didn’t die in 1892 but was hidden away by the family and later became ‘the Monster of Glamis’!! Poor Albert Victor!

 The fact that one of his associates was involved in the Cleveland Street scandal also led to various spurious allegations about his dissipated life and some authors claim that the stories of his dissipation are supported by Queen Victoria’s letters. In fact, like many a grandmother, Queen Victoria might well have worried about her grandson’s morals – we need only think of her response to the Prince of Wales as a young man becoming involved with the actress – but there is nothing to suggest that Prince Albert Victor was any more licentious (in fact he was probably less so!) than most young men of his era and class. His younger brother, George, also had a mistress at the time and yet he is portrayed as the model of sobriety and morality!

Further accusations concern his laziness (something of which his father, Edward VII was also accused) and his lack of interest in study and inability to learn. The same allegations of a lack of intelligence were made about his brother, George, but again this is forgotten! Albert Victor had inherited his mother’s deafness and there is a likelihood that this might have made him seen ‘absent’ at times and also hindered his learning but by the time he was a young man, he was different from the image which has since been presented of him.

Recently discovered letters written from the prince to the Prime Minister and to his friends show that he had a very real and sensitive grasp of the tricky political situation in Ireland and, had he become king, he might even have succeeded in bringing harmony to that country in a way that successive kings and governments failed to do. Repeatedly, too, letters from his family and from others refer to his kindness and his understanding. When he died at the age of only 28, the country and his family genuinely mourned his passing and even the Prime Minister, Gladstone, wrote in his diary that the prince’s death was great loss to the country and to his party. Gladstone was hardly a sentimental man and such a tribute cannot be overlooked.

 It is only since his death that this poor prince has been the subject of all kinds of scurrilous slanders and there are times when I wonder whether this wasn’t done to bolster the image of King George V – as though to say, “Aren’t we fortunate to have this king....look at whom we might have had!” Although it is impossible to say for certain, judging by Eddy’s warmth and understanding, I venture to suggest that, had he lived and become king, he – unlike his brother - would have welcomed the Russian Imperial Family to Britain after the revolution and proved himself to be a very popular and well-loved monarch, with great similarities to his mother, Queen Alexandra who endeared herself to the people throughout her life. It seems very wrong that people go on – even on BBC documentaries – glibly repeating the old lies and creating more and more fanciful and lurid stories about this innocent man.

Happy New Year!

Wishing you a very Happy New Year!

I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year
'Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown.'

And he replied,
'Go into the darkness and put your hand into the hand of God
That shall be to you better than light and safer than a known way!'

So I went forth and finding the Hand of God
Trod gladly into the night
He led me towards the hills
And the breaking of day in the lone east.

So heart be still!
What need our human life to know
If God hath comprehension?

In all the dizzy strife of things
Both high and low,
God hideth his intention."

(Minnie Louise Haskins)

Merry Christmas to all!

The Wealth of Kings

Recently, I left a comment on a beautiful YouTube video of original footage of Tsar Nicholas and his family visiting a Cathedral. A reply to my comment read something to the effect of: and did the starving masses view this event as beautiful?

There is a huge myth around the wealth of kings, and more particular the royalties of the past couple of centuries and I think this myth was born out of a combination of the extravagances of certain members of royal and imperial families and envy. The majority of kings in the late 19th and early 20th centuries actually lived quite frugal and simple lives and though they lived in palaces they saw themselves as custodians of those places and, within them, their own rooms were often simply furnished and not very much different from those of non-royal custodians who inhabit stately homes and palaces today. No one objects to the modern custodians, but somehow blame is laid at the feet of kings and emperors for fulfilling their role to the best of their abilities.

It is very interesting to think – particularly when people speak of the wealth of kings as though this deprives everyone else of their fair share – that if all the wealth of a royal family were shared out among the people of the country, we would each end up being something like one penny better off. I would prefer to enjoy the beautiful stateliness of those who are born as guardians of ancient traditions and also have the wellbeing of their people at heart.

More interesting, though, is the extent to which those 19th/20th century royalties took a personal and active part in what is misleadingly called ‘charity work’ but was/is, in fact, a means of raising people to all they can be. Throughout the horrendous wars of the past century, princesses and queens personally assisted in surgical operations, tended the wounded and participated in the most horrendous procedures. The Tsarina of Russia, for example, spent many hours writing personal letters from wounded soldiers to their families after hours of working in operating theatres. I have yet to see a politician or dictator participating in such activities. This, however, was not confined to war time. There are countless examples of royalties, who had dedicated their lives to their people, carrying out all kinds of amazing work to raise people up and inspire them. In recent times, for example, when Diana, Princess of Wales, visited a local hospice, I was told by someone who was there on that day that the patients were so much happier and so delighted by the time she spent with each of them. There is a mystique of royalty and it is churlish to deny it when it does so much good.

On a personal level, too, the ‘good’ done by individual 19th century royalties is often overlooked. The Victorian Age is seen as very judgemental and yet it is fascinating that, when unmarried mothers or so-called ‘fallen women’ were being treated with such disdain by other members of society, the royalties were among the most understanding. Queen Victoria encouraged the Duchess of York to be seen in public with one such unfortunate cousin and her daughter, Princess Alice, like many others founded safe houses and spent time speaking with those who were seen as outcasts, in order to help them. Here is a very interesting article, too, about the children who were adopted by royal families:

Royalties Who Adopted Children

 I wonder, “Did Lenin or Stalin nurse the sick? Did Hitler take time to write letters to the families of his wounded soldiers? Would you rather that the figurehead of your nation was someone who really loved your country and its people, or really love himself? Would you like to do away with all the pageantry, the sense of unity we feel at jubilees or royal weddings, in order to gain one penny?

Funny, isn't it, that Stalin murdered his wife and Hitler killed his niece and politicians and bankers have created such a financial mess for so many people,  but people still believe that Nicholas II was a tyrant and somehow other royalties deprive their people of their true wealth?  

Emilie Todd Helm

Some may not realize that Abraham Lincoln had a beloved Confederate sister-in-law who paid cordial visits to the White House amidst the fury and bitterness of the Civil War. At the Tea at Trianon Forum, we have been discussing the moving story of Emilie Todd Helm (1836-1930),  half-sister of Mary Todd Lincoln and wife and later widow of Confederate general Benjamin Hardin Helm of Kentucky. Beautiful, vivacious, spirited, young enough to be the President's daughter, Emilie was the perfect Southern belle. She also left vivid diaries offering a rare glimpse of the intimate sphere of the Lincoln family. 

The Lincolns had long had a special fondness for her. Mary found in her sister someone in whom she could confide her torments. "She and Brother Lincoln pet me as if I were a child, and without words, try to comfort me," Emilie wrote. "Kiss me, Emilie, and tell me that you love me," Mrs. Lincoln told her half-sister one morning. "I seem to be the scape-goat for both North and South."[4] At that point, President Lincoln entered the room and said: "I hope you two are planning some mischief.' Mr. Lincoln told Emilie later that day: "Little Sister, I hope you can come up and spend the summer with us at the Soldiers' Home; you and Mary love each other - it is good for her to have you with her - I feel worried about Mary, her nerves have gone to pieces; she cannot hide from me that the strain she had been under has been too much for her mental as well as her physical health." Both Lincolns expressed separate concerns to Emilie about the other's mental and physical health.

President Lincoln was very solicitous of Emilie and defended her presence at the White House against political attacks. Emilie later recalled: "Mr. Lincoln in the intimate talks we had was very much affected over the misfortunes of our family; and of my husband he said, 'You know, Little Sister, I tried to have Ben come with me. I hope you do not feel any bitterness or that I am in any way to blame for all this sorrow.' I answered it was 'the fortune of war' and that while my husband loved him and had been deeply grateful to him for his generous offer to make him an officer in the Federal Army, he had to follow his conscience and that for weal or woe he felt he must side with his own people. Mr. Lincoln put his arms around me and we both wept."[5]

In the winter of 1863, while Emilie was visiting the White House, Mrs. Lincoln requested that she meet some visitors. Emilie later wrote:

I went most reluctantly. It is painful to see friends and I do not feel like meeting strangers. I cannot bear their inquiring look at my deep crepe. It was General [Daniel] Sickles again, calling with Senator Harris. General Sickles said, "I told Senator Harris that you were at the White House, just from the South and could probably give him some news of his old friend General John C. Breckinridge." I told Senator Harris that as I had not seen General Breckinridge for some time I could give him no news of the general's health. He then asked me several pointed questions about the South and as politely as I could I gave him non-committal answers. Senator Harris said to me in a voice of triumph, "Well, we have whipped the rebels at Chattanooga and I hear, madam, that the scoundrels ran like scared rabbits." "It was the example, senator Harris, that you set then at Bull Run and Manassas," I answered with a choking throat. I was very nervous and I could see that Sister Mary was annoyed. She tactfully tried to change the subject, whereupon Senator Harris turned to her abruptly and with an unsmiling face asked sternly: "Why isn't Robert in the Army? He is old enough to serve his country. He should have gone to the front some time ago."

Sister Mary's face turned white as death and I saw that she was making a desperate effort at self-control. She bit her lip, but answered quietly, 'Robert is making his preparations now to enter the Army, Senator Harris; he is not a shirker as you seem to imply, for he had been anxious to go for a long time. If fault there be, it is mine. I have insisted that he should stay in college a little longer as I think an educated man can serve his country with more intelligent purpose than an ignoramus." General [sic] Harris rose and said harshly and pointedly to Sister, "I have only one son and he is fighting for his country." Turning to me and making a low bow, "and, Madam, if I had twenty sons they should all be fighting the rebels." "And if I had twenty sons, General Harris," I replied, "they should all be opposing yours." I forgot where I was, I forgot that I was a guest of the President and Mrs. Lincoln at the White House. I was cold and trembling. I stumbled out of the room somehow, for I was blinded by tears and my heart was beating to suffocation. Before I reached the privacy of my room where unobserved I could give way to my grief, Sister Mary overtook me and put her arms around me. I felt somehow comforted to weep on her shoulder — her own tears were falling but she said no word of the occurrence and I understood that she was powerless to protect a guest at the White House from cruel rudeness.[18]

Emilie never remarried and dressed in mourning for the rest of her life. Although the strain of the war eventually took its toll and she became estranged from Abraham and Mary, she later developed a close and loving relationship with their eldest son Robert. A leading member of the United Daughters of the Confederacy, she also worked for reconciliation between North and South.

Prince Albert and Typhoid - A Myth?

From the first history books I ever read as a child, right through to those written today, it was repeatedly stated that Prince Albert died of typhoid, probably due to the dirty drains at Windsor. Though I have no proof, I seriously suspect that this is a myth. The prince, I believe, was suffering – and had been for a long time – from some more pernicious illness which, combined with his mental state, eventually led to his premature death.

The rest of this post has been temporarily removed due to an agreement re. the recent publication of my book "Queen Victoria's Granddaughters 1860-1918"