Showing posts with label Prince of Wales. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Prince of Wales. Show all posts

Monday, May 2, 2016

Charles Stuart, Prince of Wales

By Cryssa Bazos

When people think of Charles II of England, they usually think of Charles the Merry Monarch. Yet there was more to this intelligent man than the number of mistresses (and illegitimate children) he had. His life was defined by war, loss, and exile, and in the end, restoration. He fought to reclaim his father’s throne during one of the most tumultuous and complex times in English history. To understand who he was before becoming the Merry Monarch, allow me to introduce his early years when he was still the Prince of Wales.

Charles Stuart by Philippe de Champaigne

Charles was the eldest son and heir of King Charles I of England and Queen Henrietta Maria (sister to Louis XIII of France). His grandfather, King James I of England (James VI of Scotland) united the crowns of Scotland and England upon the death of Queen Elizabeth I. Charles was born on May 29, 1630 in St. James’s Palace in London, and as the story goes, a bright star shone in the afternoon sky to mark his birth. Ironically, this star was Venus.

Charles took after his mother’s French heritage, with his dark looks. Henrietta Maria called him her ‘black boy', though not with affectionate fondness. Whereas most mothers are often blind to their children’s ‘imperfections’, Henrietta Maria was hypersensitive. Shortly after Charles’s birth, Henrietta wrote about her son to a former nanny, “he is so fat and so tall…I will send you his portrait as soon as he is a little fairer, for at present he is so dark I am ashamed of him.” Charles never became fair, but at 6’2” he fulfilled the promise of exceptional height.

The Children of Charles I

Over the next several years, Charles was joined by a clutch of brothers and sisters in order of birth: Mary (later Princess of Orange), James (King James II & VII), Anne, Elizabeth, Henry (Duke of Gloucester), and Henrietta (Duchess of Orleans, but known affectionately as Minette). He was particularly close to his brother James, who ultimately ascended the throne after him. The two had experienced the upheaval of the civil war together, and even when James later converted to Catholicism, Charles supported his decision even though it was politically inconvenient. Some have attributed Charles’s deathbed conversion to Catholicism as having signalled his support for his brother on the eve of James’s ascension to the throne.

When Charles was eight, he was given over to the care and education of William Cavendish, then Marquess of Newcastle-upon-Tyne. Cavendish was a notable horseman and the father of dressage. A long-time political player from a wealthy family, he instilled in Charles the gift to see men for what they were and the ability to work with them according to their talents. He also fostered in Charles a love of horsemanship.

Charles’s keen wit came through even at this young age. Having a strong aversion to taking physic, he wrote a clever note to Cavendish, which also demonstrated his affection for his guardian:

“My Lord, I would not have you take too much physic, for it doth always make me worse, and I think it will do the like with you. I ride every day, and am ready to follow any other directions from you. Make haste to return to him that loves you. Charles, P.”

Charles had a very different personality than his stubborn father. Had he been king during this time, war may very well have been avoided, and with it, years of bloodshed.

But civil war did break out, and Charles’s idyllic childhood came to an abrupt end in 1642 when Parliament raised an army against his father. Charles was given a titular captaincy and a troop of horse named after him, the Prince of Wales Regiment. At this time, his dashing cousin, Prince Rupert of the Rhine, came to lead his Majesty’s horse, and the young Charles looked up to his cousin as any impressionable twelve-year old would.

During the first major battle of the war (Edgehill), Charles should never have been anywhere near the fighting, and yet typically, he was and had a close shave with the enemy. His safety, and that of his brother James, was entrusted to the famous physician, Dr. William Harvey. In later years, the doctor became celebrated for documenting the circulation of blood, but at this moment, with two armies clashing on a field, the good doctor withdrew with his charges to the shelter of a hedgerow and the comforts of an absorbing book. The fighting heated and now being too close for comfort, Charles and his brother fled across a field to reach the safety of a barn. An enemy troop of horse saw the pair running, and without realizing who they were, gave chase. Fortunately, another Royalist troop headed off the enemy cavalry before they could capture the King’s sons, thereby avoiding a checkmate.

A History of England

In March 1645, Charles had been named Captain-General of his father’s forces in the west and was stationed in Bristol, relying on Edward Hyde as one of his chief advisors. Charles has always proved loyal to those who had shown him loyalty; years later when he won back his throne, he elevated Hyde to Chancellor and bestowed upon him an earldom.

By June 1645, the war had turned against the King. Following their defeat at Naseby, the Royalist army was in shambles. It soon became necessary to send Charles to the west where he would be safer from the threat of Parliament. As well, plague was becoming a threat in Bristol. Charles and his retinue left Bristol and travelled west to Barnstaple, and in September, continued to Cornwall. But by the spring of 1646, the mainland was not safe for the King’s heir, and he was forced to sail for the Isles of Scilly and then to Jersey.

iStock Photos

Sailing across the Channel to Jersey flared Charles’s sense of adventure. While on board the privateer, the Proud Black Eagle, he took the helm for a time. His ship was forced to flee from a fleet of Parliamentary ships, but they managed to safely sail into Jersey harbour.

Clearly this made an impression on him, for when he needed to come to his father’s aid, he chose to do it on the water. In 1648, one of the king’s supporters in Scotland, the Duke of Hamilton, raised an army for the King who was a prisoner of Parliament by this time. Wanting to be in readiness to join in the fray, Charles left France for Holland with a small fleet under his command. With some degree of schadenfreude, he happened to chance upon a naval mutiny in the Parliamentary fleet. Ten ships put aside their officers and placed themselves under Charles’s command. From there, Charles and his expanded fleet sailed for the Downs.

In the Channel, while waiting for favourable news on land, he played the privateer (or pirate, depending on your perspective). Things did not always go well for the Pirate Prince. His fleet suffered from internal divisions and a betrayal from some of the Prince’s supporters (though it was thwarted). Even the weather conspired against him. Just as his ships were geared to engage against the Parliamentary fleet, a fierce storm drove them apart. Unfortunately, rescuing the King was not in the cards, and Cromwell defeated Hamilton’s army.

One thing bore fruit from Charles’s Channel runs, an act of respect that paid dividends three years later. One of the prizes he seized was a ship captained by Nicholas Tattersell. Charles readily released the ship, which was no small relief to Tattersell. Years later, when Charles was a desperate fugitive with a reward of a thousand pounds offered for his capture, his last hope for finding passage on a ship ended up with Tattersell. Though Charles dressed and acted like a commoner, Tattersell had not forgotten the man who had captured his ship—nor did he forget that the Prince had promptly released it to him. Tattersell agreed to help Charles and spirited Charles safely to France.

And finally, one of my favourite stories of Charles involves the carte blanche. Before his father’s execution on January 29, 1649, after Parliament had tried and found the King guilty, the story goes that Charles sent a carte blanche (a blank piece of paper with his signature) to Parliament so that they could fill in their own terms for sparing his father’s life. If true, the ramifications to Charles were enormous.

Did it actually happen or is it a 19th century fabrication or error? I like to believe in its veracity, not only because it is his signature that appears on the bottom of this blank document, but also is entirely in keeping with the nature and character of Charles Stuart, Prince of Wales.


References:

Memoirs of the Court of Charles the Second, Anthony Hamilton

Memoirs of Lady Fanshawe: Excerpt From: Lady Anne Harrison Fanshawe.

Reprobates: The Cavaliers of the English Civil War, by John Stubbs

Carte Blanche, by T. C. Skeat 

BCW Project


Media attributions:

Charles Stuart: By Philippe de Champaigne - Europicture.de, Public Domain, Wikimedia Commons

The Children of Charles I of England, by Sir Anthony van Dyck in 1637, Wikimedia Commons

A history of England from the landing of Julius Caesar to the present day (1913): Internet Archive Book Images via Visual hunt / No known copyright restrictions

Charles II signature: By Connormah, Charles II [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

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Cryssa Bazos is a historical fiction writer and 17th Century enthusiast with a particular interest in the English Civil War (ECW). For more stories about the English Civil War and the 17th Century, visit her blog.

Thursday, April 2, 2015

An Interview with Prinny's Taylor

by Charles Bazalgette

We are fortunate today to have secured an interview with Louis Bazalgette. However, since he died 185 years ago we have had to imagine a bit, but it is based on fact.

I ‘d like to introduce Mr. Louis Bazalgette, tailor to the Prince of Wales, later George IV.

When and how did you become the Prince’s tailor?


To commence at the beginning, I came to London from France in 1775 and established a small shop. I had been importing cloth and shapes – patterned or embroidered foreparts for waistcoats - for a few years. I sold these materials and also used them to make suits, waistcoats and ladies’ riding habits. My business was flourishing, and one day in 1779 a fellow came to see me. I knew him by sight. He was one of the Prince’s servants. He showed me a piece of silk, prettily patterned with little islands, and asked if I had more of it, because the Prince was most desirous to have a waistcoat made from it. I said I did not, but that it was very likely that I could find some in Paris.

A few days later he returned with a letter from His Highness, requesting that I travel to Paris to secure such a piece and then to make the waistcoat for him. Seeing this as an opportunity for advancement I agreed to go. As our countries were at war at the time I had to charter a fishing smack to make the journey in a clandestine manner.

You mean that this would be a case of smuggling?

Let us say that there were many captains of such vessels who never caught a fish and that very few of the goods imported in those times had duty paid upon them. So it was nothing unusual. We got to France without mishap and of course there was no problem for me in returning to my native land. I found the requisite piece of stuff and we were fortunate in being able to return to England without detection. As a precaution I wound the piece around my body under my waistcoat to conceal it.

And did you make the waistcoat?

Naturellement! The Prince was so pleased with it that he began to order many more items, so I quite soon had to move to a larger shop in South Molton Street.

So from then on you were his favourite tailor. Did he confide in you?

Occasionally, and he sometimes asked my advice, once he was sure that he could depend on my absolute discretion. I have never betrayed that trust and I never will do so.

Do you find it difficult to keep to your schedule? I've heard the Prince did not always keep his appointments, or are you an exception to that since he is a bit... focused... on his appearance?

Absolutely not. I am amused to see how many commentators have repeatedly mentioned that the Prince would rather spend time with his tailor than anyone else. When we visited him at Carlton House, which we did on several mornings a week, he would always see us first, and visitors who were no doubt often on more pressing business would have to wait until he had finished with us.

Was he otherwise difficult to work for?

We had a very good understanding. Otherwise I would not have been his tailor for all those years.

What events in particular did you create his clothing for?

In the earlier years we made, and had made, almost all of his clothes including drawers. The amount he spent with us slowly decreased over the years, as he began to use more English tailors who made the newer styles. We made court dress, masquerade
outfits and military uniforms for all special occasions. By 1793 the Prince and his brothers tended more to wear military dress to royal occasions instead of the very rich suits that they had previously favoured.

Most people are aware of the Prince’s girth. As he is otherwise occupied and will not be reading this article, can you discuss that subject with us?

He was very active in his younger days, and frequently engaged in equestrian activities such a riding, hunting, racing and carriage-driving. He also liked shooting, archery, cricket and tennis. Against this must be set his excessive eating and drinking, so it is not surprising that although there were periods when he got into better shape he still gained weight steadily. By 1792, at the age of twenty-nine, the Prince was already quite portly. We had to use 11⁄4 yards of cloth to make a plain waistcoat for him in 1786, 11⁄2 yards by 1792 and 13⁄4 yards by 1794. We constantly needed to make alterations and the number of these increased over the years. We also had to make him a new style of waistcoats which were shorter and with straps which fastened at the back, and breeches with broader waistbands.

Have you seen much of the Prince's residences or travelled with him elsewhere?

Mostly we used couriers to convey his requests and finished garments to him but sometimes I or one of my master tailors would be required to attend him when he was away from London. I several times went to him at Windsor or Brighton or Newmarket.

Have you met other members of the Royal Family? Tell us about it.

I occasionally attended a levee and I met most members of the Royal Family. I made suits for the Prince’s brothers as well as for his friends such as Mr. Sheridan and Captain Payne. I also made special suits for the Prime Minister, Mr. Pitt.

Many thanks for answering my questions, Sir!

Your obedient servant, Madame.

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The book Prinny's Taylor: The Life and Times of Louis Bazalgette (1750-1830) [Kindle Edition], plus some biographical details on the author, his great-great-great-great grandson Charles Bazalgette can be found at:

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00UPI8BWG

Friday, April 26, 2013

Rebellion in Wales ~ Owain Glyn Dŵr and Cydweli Castle - Carmarthenshire


by Judith Arnopp


Standing proud above a small village, over-looking the River Gwendraeth near Carmarthen in West Wales, is Cydweli Castle. Of Norman origin, the fortress is testament to the years of Anglo/Welsh conflict, its dominant position in the landscape making it quite clear who was in control of whom.

The earliest castle was a Norman earth and timber construction built shortly after the conquest, the village growing up around it. During the 12th century the castle fell several times into Welsh hands and by the 13th century it had been rebuilt in stone with the latest in defensive design.

Today, we see most phases of building; a square inner bailey defended by four round towers, a semi-circular outer curtain wall to protect the landward side and the massive gatehouse and jutting tower defending the riverside walls.

Cydweli (or the anglicised Kidwelly) is of concentric design with defensive walls set one within the other providing the best defence possible at the time of building. The gate house was still under construction when Owain Glyn Dŵr held it under siege during his campaign against the English.


Owain Glyn Dŵr was born around 1359 and through his parents, Gruffydd Fychan II and Elen ferch Tomas ap Llywelyn,  descended from the Welsh princes of Powys and Deheubarth.  His early life is quite unremarkable and law abiding. He was educated in London and served as a squire and a soldier, fighting for the English king in campaigns in Scotland. By the year 1400 he had become a well-respected Welsh gentlemen but events over the next few years pushed Glyn Dŵr further into rebellion.

Baron Grey de Ruthyn, a neighbour of Glyn Dŵr’s, had seized control of some land, forcing him to appeal to the English Parliament.  In 1400, Lord Grey failed to inform Glyn Dŵr in time of a royal command to levy feudal troops for service on the Scottish border. This apparent dereliction of duty enabled the Welshman to be named a traitor in London court circles

Possibly due to Lord Grey’s  personal friendship with King Henry IV, Glyn Dŵr lost the case and when, in January 1400, civil disorder broke out in Chester in support of the deposed king, Richard II, Glyn Dŵr’s relationship with Henry IV broke down completely.


In September 1400 Owain Glyn Dŵr was created Prince of Wales by the dissenting Welsh.


By 1401, after a series of confrontations between Owain’s followers and Henry IV the revolt began to spread. Welshmen studying at Oxford abandoned their studies, labourers lay down their tools, returned to Wales and flocked to Owain’s  banner. Welsh troops who had fought for the king in France and Scotland also joined the cause, Welsh archers and men-at-arms abandoned the English king to join the Welsh rebellion.

Early in the campaign the Welsh skill at guerrilla warfare gained them some notable success. They were victorious at the battle of Bryn Glas in Powys in 1402; inflicted much damage on many towns (including Cardiff) and took control of several of the strongest castles in Wales, notably Aberystwyth and Harlech.

During the fourth year of the revolt Owain Glyn Dŵr and his armies turned up in the Tywi Valley and captured a number of castles, including Dyslwyn and Carmarthen and persuaded Henry Don, a former steward of the Duchy of Lancaster and a fellow of considerable standing and power, to throw in his lot with the rebels. It was Henry Don who led the attack on Cydweli Town and castle.

However, around 1405 the rebels began to lose ground, they were defeated at Usk and sometime between 1408-9 the castles at Aberystwyth, Harlech were retaken by the crown. Owain himself was never captured but faded from history, believed to be dead by 1416. Many tales are told about the circumstances of his death.

A supporter of Glyn Dŵr,  Adam of Usk, wrote  in his Chronicle in the year 1415 that, ‘After four years in hiding, from the king and the realm, Owain Glyndŵr died, and was buried by his followers in the darkness of night. His grave was discovered by his enemies, however, so he had to be re-buried, though it is impossible to discover where he was laid.’

Adrien Jones, the president of the Owain Glyn Dŵr Society, as late as 2006 visited Sir John Scudamore who is a direct descendant of Glyndŵr and lives  near Abergavenny. He told him that Glyn Dŵr spent his last years with  his daughter Alys at Monnington Straddel in Herefordshire and eventually died there. The family kept the secret for six hundred years but Sir John claimed that Glyn Dŵr is buried beneath a mound nearby at Monnington Straddel.

Whatever the truth of the matter may be Owain Glyn Dŵr is gone but never forgotten and remains a hero in Wales, a household name and icon of Welsh nationalism.

 By AlexD (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons
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Castle photos property of Judith Arnopp.
You can find out more about Judith and her historical novels on her website: www.juditharnopp.com
or on her Amazon Author page.
UK - click here
USA - click here

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

The Feuding Hanoverians

Frederick, Prince of Wales
Arguments within the Royal Family have always existed, but the Hanoverian monarchs took their animosity into legend that scandalised even the tolerant English. With their reputation for uncontrollable rages, they all seemed to take pleasure in publicly humiliating their children. George I ejected his son, George Augustus and daughter-in-law Princess Caroline of Ansbach from St James Palace for a presumed slight to the Earl of Newcastle at their son's christening. They were literally ejected from the palace and their honour guard removed, banished for two years and their three daughters, Anne, Amelia and Caroline forbidden to live with them.

In his turn, George Augustus became George II, having not seen his own son, Frederick Prince of Wales for thirteen years. When he came to England with his father in 1715, George Augustus left his eight-year-old son in Hanover to keep a 'presence' there, the boy expected to preside over official occasions, despite Frederick's repeated requests to join his parents and siblings in London. Frederick had also continued to be known as Prince Frederich Ludwig of Hanover (with his British HRH style) even after his father had been created Prince of Wales.

It's not unreasonable to suppose this separation was insisted upon by Frederick's grandfather, George I - a man who imprisoned his own wife for the majority of her life for having an affair with a Swedish army officer - who incidentally disappeared on his way to his mistress' apartment - probably murdered on George I's orders -but that's another story.
King George II and Queen Caroline of Ansbach

Hardly happy families, exacerbated when King George II favoured child was Frederick's younger brother, Prince William, Duke of Cumberland, to the extent that the king looked into ways of splitting his domains so that Frederick would succeed only in Britain, while Hanover would go to William.

Augusta, Princess of Wales
Despite being a spendthrift and womaniser, Frederick settled down to married life with the seventeen-year-old Augusta of Saxe-Gotha in 1736. When Augusta fell pregnant, Frederick announced the child would be born in October, when in fact she was due to give birth earlier.

In July, the entire family were at Hampton Court for the summer, with Queen Caroline determined to be present at the birth of her grandchild. Traditionally, royal births were witnessed by members of the family and senior courtiers to ensure the parentage of the royals, but Caroline announced tactlessly, 'I will be sure it is her child'.

Perhaps feeling insulted that his mother questioned the baby's paternity, when Augusta went into labour, Frederick bundled his eighteen-year-old wife out of her bedchamber and down a flight of stairs to a coach. Deaf to the protests of his wife and her ladies, with two of her dressers, they rattled through the fifteen miles to St James' in seventy five minutes, while the ladies and the Prince had to hold down the screaming princess.

Frederick complained afterwards that the force he had to use gave him a terrible ache in his back!

When the party reached St James', Frederick ordered the lights extinguished so the servants would not see the gruesome evidence of 'his folly and her distress'. When Queen Caroline heard what had happened, she, Lord John Hervey, and two of her daughters, raced to St James's Palace where she found her newly born grandaughter wrapped in table linen due to the fact no preparations had been made for a birth.

Caroline was at first sympathetic to 'the poor little creature', but soon declared her relief that Augusta had given birth to an 'ugly little she-mouse' rather than a 'large, fat, healthy boy' which made a deception unlikely since the baby was so pitiful. The child was named Augusta after her mother, but not surprisingly,  this incident shocked the court, and deepened the estrangement between mother and son.

Frederick and Augusta were abruptly banished from St James Palace, their guard of honour removed, and with no time to pack, their clothes were thrown into laundry baskets. A rival court grew up at Leicester House, the same property his father had run to when George I had administered the same treatment to himself and Caroline years before.
Princess Augusta of Wales

Frederick hated being apart from his mother, but when Princess Caroline fell ill after an operation for an untreated hernia later that year, King George refused him permission to see her.

Surprisingly, after this treatment of his wife, Frederick became a devoted family man of eight children (his youngest daughter was born posthumously) They lived in the countryside at Cliveden, where he fished, shot and rowed. He died in 1751 at the age of 44, but did not outlive his father, thus it was Frederick's son, George, who succeeded the throne as George III in 1760.

The Prince of Wales' epigram -from William Makepeace Thackeray, "Four Georges"

        'Here lies poor Fred who was alive and is dead,
        Had it been his father I had much rather,
        Had it been his sister nobody would have missed her,
        Had it been his brother, still better than another,
        Had it been the whole generation, so much better for the nation,
        But since it is Fred who was alive and is dead,
        There is no more to be said!'

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