#Portrait of William II and Maria Stuart | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

acrossthewavesoftime · 2 years ago

Note

I am a little late to the party, but would you share something from your Willemina/WM_AU_II for the tag game? :-)

But of course, my dear!

So Willemina is a thought experiment how Europe could have looked if the Stuarts had reigned into the third quarter of the 18th century (and thus a perfect prequel, if you will, to our little story about a German Prinz Georg ;-) ) by way of Willemina, daughter of William III and Mary II.

In this version of events, Mary outlives her husband and their daughter is born only days before her father's death. William's death changes the power politics in Europe and by the time Willemina is a teen, Mary II sees the only way of maintaining peace by marrying her daughter off to the French royal family to hopefully prevent war with France. Only... Willemina is not into that idea at all and, aided by her childhood friend the future 2nd Earl of Albemarle, the Duchess of Orléans and her step-grandmother, absconds from Paris and makes for England.

The story is basically the kind of historical adventure I would have loved to immerse myself in when I was younger (and still do), underpinned with much darker, more serious themes such as grief and rememberance, especially where Willemina's late father's and grandfather's memory is concerned, which overshadows her upbringing.

There is constant friction between mother and daughter caused by Mary's grief for the love of her life, and the way her daughter daily reminds her of him. For Willemina, the memory of the father she only knows as a looming, sombre presence in old portraits turns into a heavy burden to the point that she would like to separate herself fully from the expectations and comparisons heaped onto her on account of this de facto stranger.

Only when she arrives in France, feeling deceived and abandoned by her mother, does she turn her thoughts to her father and, lonely as she is, starts to have conversations with him- and sometimes, he replies to her. It is left open for the reader to decide whether there is such a thing as a supernatural presence or if her conversations with him are the product of the vivid imagination of an isolated, unhappy child.

In some way, these conversations, real or not, as well as interactions with people who knew her father, give Willemina a will to fight back- and leave France for the Netherlands, from where she, accompanied by Maria Beatrice d'Este and her best friend, intends to make for England.

In doing so Willemina unintentionally helps solve a political crisis in the Netherlands when she is caught running about The Hague dressed as a boy before returning home.

Virtually un-marriable now, Mary faces that her daughter will be the last Stuart monarch.

There are a few more things going on in Willemina's reign, but suffice to say that it concludes in the early 1780s following the Treaty of Paris.

Willemina's is a story of international politics, the sometimes not all positive powers of love leaving a lasting impact for generations to come and coming-of-age in peculiar circumstances.

If you want to read an excerpt, have a peek under the cut below. Willemina and her bosom friend William, son of her father's close friend Keppel, the Earl of Albemarle, decide to do some sight-seeing in The Hague by themselves, with William working hard to keep his friend from stirring up trouble in a world she's been largely sheltered from:

“Hans,” he reminded her quietly as they stood before the Binnenhof, where her father had been born, “I think a little less exuberance would do us good— the people are staring when you talk so loudly.”

“Oh,” made his friend, her lower lip protruding disappointedly, which marked her even more for her father’s daughter.

They walked on a little further, to streets not quite as clean as they had been before, on which raggedy children played their games.

“Gentlemen,” a young beggar with a babe on her arm approached them entreatingly, and Willemina, moved, thrust a golden florin into her fingers. “For your child,” she said, and suddenly sounded strangely touched, as if that woman and her child meant something to her, as if she saw in them something she knew or recognised, and whose effects she had felt upon herself.

“You cannot spend your money so freely,” William chastised her in a hushed voice.

“You see that I can,” she said simply, “if that woman has a loaf of bread for herself and her babe these next few days, and perhaps some warming clothes, I shall have done at least two of my subjects good, as I ought to do for all of them.”

He thought her daring, and reckless, and a little bit too boyish even at times; but for all her faults and haughty airs, which were regal in a princess, yet vexing in a friend, he could not think that he had ever met a kinder, more generous soul than her, and viewing her so pensively and touched, he was convinced that once she would reach majority, she would do as she had told him there on the street. Perhaps she might fail, in some ways, at least, for a Stadtholder is not the government entire; but she would try, and the people would love her for it.

“Come, Hans,” he gently tugged her by the sleeve, and guided her back to where the streets were broader and cleaner, for fear of being robbed, for they stood out among the people there quite markedly.

“Before we go back,” Willemina asked him, “might we go and eat in a tavern? We might be among the people there.”

He had done that, of course, when travelling with his father; they had always been given the finer back rooms of these houses along the carriage roads, with white linen overspreading the tables, and the better dishes and glassware upon their table, but he had never dined in the fashion Willemina had proposed either. To her, it was another half-hour in which she could pretend to be no one of import, and be among the people who by rights should be her subjects, and who by their language and customs, brought her closer to the father she had never known, and whose loss she appeared to feel all the more acutely the older she grew.

The tavern they selected was a clean, tidy establishment, the walls washed white, and the furnishings neatly arranged and clean. Naturally, two as young as they aroused some interest, but Willemina’s commanding air taught the inn-keeper’s lady to obey without question and seat them at a table by a window. No sooner had they sat down, that ale and bread with cold cuts of meat were brought. William watched as Willemina, who could hardly be famished, seeing as there had always been food upon their travels, took great mouthfuls of everything with great appetite: she, who had partaken in feasts at Versailles could think of no greater delights and delicacies than this simple meal: it tasted of a rare freedom, he supposed, one that she must give up again upon returning to England, and into her mother’s care, but which she would savour for as long as she could.

“If he had fucked his wife rather than his bum-boys, we might perhaps have a stadtholder now, one to do us the favour and protect us from the French threat!”

“Yes, one who is of age and not a papist princess!”

Willemina raised her head, and glanced to the table from which these words had come.

“A moment if you please,” she said and rose, standing as straight as she could, and wearing an expression so cool and measured that it betrayed the reverse sentiments to lie below, at least to him; to others, the young boy Hans might have seemed merely genteelly smiling.

“Gentlemen,” Willemina said and bowed a little awkwardly, being unaccustomed to it, as she neared the table. “May I sit with you?” She did not wait for their reply, and pulled an empty chair close. The men stared at this wayward boy in confusion; some in anger.

Watching, William prayed both in his native and in the papist way that his friend would not bring about a strife, or other unpleasantness.

“I heard you talking,” she smiled, and took a sip from her glass, as if that would make her seem older and more at ease, “Jacobite libel, I say. It is known that the Stadtholder-King was devoted to his wife, the Queen.”

“And who are you?” A burly old gentleman, the most well-dressed of the lot, demanded to know.

“A friend of Orange,” Willemina replied, smiling.

“Young, and prattling like a popinjay what his father tells him to!” a second voice boomed, laughing. Willemina frowned.

“Oh, but that is commonly known.”

“Is it? What is commonly known is that the country is without a stadtholder yet again, and Louis eyeing it like a cat a fat mouse! And who to defend us? Not the French princess, that is for certain.”

“The princess,” Willemina replied with a calmness that astonished William, “has gone to France as sorry for her country as you are; but she understood it to be a duty she owes to her mother,” she explained.

“Duty to her mother?”, one of the men echoed. William noted with great surprise how all of the men appeared to listen with interest to this curious boy with the high-pitched voice that caused him, despite his height, to appear younger than his years, “a duty to the state should always supersede that of a duty to her family.”

“And trust me that she is of the same opinion as you,” Willemina nodded and took another sip from her ale. “You will not have heard the last of her,” added she, and winked at William, who sent a prayer to the heaven to open the ground beneath his feet and swallow him hole, for he dreaded that less than Willemina being discovered, or worse, whatever the Queen would have to say upon their return, especially if Willemina would be found out.

“Pray, tell us then, little politician, what we should do now,” came a mocking jeer from the farther end of the table of one not so patient, or curious, as the older man.

“You should wait,” Willemina advised plainly. “The Princess will grow, and come of age and assume her rights, of course.”

“And how would you know?”, the well-dressed elderly gentleman scoffed. “She is French now, is what she is. And we to become subject to Louis—"

“It is a truth to be acknowledged by all that the son of the late Nassau-Diez is but a babe; and Zuylestein’s progeny grown too English for the taste of the ordinary Dutchman. What other Prince of Orange is there but the English princess, inheritor of her father’s blood and spirit? A brave Hollander will never be subdued, and she loves the home which she was never so lucky as to set eyes upon; and she is not wed yet,” she replied gravely and set down her empty glass, visibly relishing in the stunned silence of the party who had, rather than unwillingly accepting her presence, commenced to crowd around her.

“You talk much, and big, for one so little,” the old man observed, “how old are you?”

“Thirteen, Mynheer.”

He whistled mockingly through his teeth, “I would have taken you for ten, with that little voice of yours, were you not so tall,” he observed as another, half under his breath, made a chuckling remark about Italian castrati.

“And how—”

“I have it on the authority by my aunt in England, who by profession moved among the circle of the princess’ party,” Willemina cut off the man glibly; it was but half a lie; the sick and lonely Princess Anne had but died the previous year, when she had gone to join her husband and eighteen babes in Heaven.

“Thirteen, and talking like that; your father—”

“Is dead, Mynheers.”

Touched and embarrassed, the men directed their eyes to their fingertips or the edge of the table; the revelation appeared to mellow them somewhat, for now, even the hardened sort addressed his friend more amiably.

“A lad like you to go about the taverns alone—” a younger man with a grave face and blond hair shook his head with genuine concern. “Where is your mother, then?” a second wanted to know, and William’s anxiety mounted to unknown heights.

“His face appears familiar,” the blond man noted, and the older man concurred as they mustered Willemina intently, as if they wished to ascertain where they had seen her before, without knowing when and where. One of them rose, and approaching the fireplace, took from the wall beside it a little print, yellowed and quite neglected in its appearance, but by habit beloved enough that its plain little frame was dusted, and adjusted to hang straight on the wall.

It showed a boy, not quite grown into his face and features; his hair, in the style of the day, cut to be shorter in the front, and falling to his shoulders in the back, with what little was visible of him dressed in armour and a lace collar long fallen out of fashion.

“There is a resemblance,” the old man, to whom all others appeared to defer, judged, “uncanny, it is the nose—“

“but not the eyes, and he is too tall, for he was short, I saw him once ride past many years ago,” the blond man shook his head.

Only then did Willemina make an effort to squint her, alas not quite so very sharp, eyes a little to read what was writ below the portrait in Dutch and Latin:

Willem Hendrick de derde Prins van Orangie Guilhelmus Henricus Dei gratia Princeps Auraicæ &c. Ætatis anno XV.

William could read from her stony features that she, for the first time since making their escape, felt something akin to fear, and with her eyes sought for him, as if he could do anything at all— but he must at least try.

“You fancy me a bastard of Orange, whom you only such a short while ago accused of the Italian vice?” she laughed, but the sound was hollow to his ear.

Quietly, he rose from his chair, and, crawling along the ground slipped below the table.

“A thief!” one of the men cried, thinking William was intent of reaching into their pockets.

“Mina, run!” he exclaimed, and then, throwing over some chairs, scrambled to his feet and did the very same thing.

“Wait— for the table over there,” he heard Mina say to the inn-keeper’s wife, who had come out to see what the commotion was, and thrust a few coins in value far exceeding the men’s beers into her hand before pushing the buxom lady to the side, and running into the street, William always close behind her.

#ask #ask game #ask reply #willemina au #nordleuchten #r writes

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historywithlaura · 3 years ago

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MARY TUDOR

(born 1673 - died 1726)

pictured above is a portrait of the Countess of Derwentwater, by Bernard Lens II from c. 1700

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SERIES - On this day November Edition: Mary died on 5 November 1726.

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MARY was born in 1673, probably in London. She was the only daughter of Charles II, King of England (and King of Scots) and his mistress the actress Moll Davis. So she was from an illegitimate line of the HOUSE OF STUART.

After her birth her mother ceased to be her father's mistress and she was only recognized as a daughter of the King of England in 1680, when she was seven years old.

At that time her father also granted her the right to be called a Lady and a surname, so she became known as LADY MARY TUDOR. And around 1683/84 her father also ensured her an annuity.

She married EDWARD, the Viscount Radclyffe in 1687 and they had four children (check the lis below). He was the eldest son of Francis Radclyffe, 2nd Baronet of Derwentwater and Catherine Fenwick.

So, following her marriage she became the VISCOUNTESS RADCLYFFE and was known as LADY MARY RADCLYFFE.

In 1685 her father died and was succeeded on the throne by her uncle as James II, King of England (and James VII, King of Scotland).

And in March 1688 her uncle created her father-in-law as 1st Earl of Derwentwater.

However by the end of 1688 her uncle was deposed by the Glorious Revolution and exiled with his second wife and son in France.

Her eldest son James was then sent to France to live in the Court of her exiled uncle, as a companion to James Francis Edward Stuart, the former Prince of Wales.

In 1697 her father-in-law died and her husband succeeded as 2nd Earl of Derwentwater, sho she became the COUNTESS OF DERWENTWATER. But by 1700 she separated from him.

Following her estranged husband's death in April 1705 she became the DOWAGER COUNTESS OF DERWENTWATER, but it is not certain if she ever used this title.

Shortly after she got married again to HENRY, by May 1705. He was one of the sons of James Graham and Dorothy Howard. After the wedding she officialy became LADY MARY GRAHAM, but she may also have not used this name. They did not have any children and he died in January 1707.

Seven months later, by August 1707, she married for a third time to Major JAMES Rooke and with him she had a daughter (check below). There are no records of who were his parents. And, following the wedding her name changed again, at least officially, to LADY MARY ROOKE, but like the other versions of her name she probably did not use it.

Lady Mary Rooke died on 5 November 1726, aged 53, in Paris.

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MARY and her first husband EDWARD had four children...

James Radclyffe, 3rd Earl of Derwentwater - husband of Anna Maria Webb;

Lady Mary Tudor Radclyffe - probable wife of William Petre;

Charles Radclyffe, (titular) 5th Earl of Derwentwater - husband of Charlotte Maria Livingston; and

Francis Radclyffe - unmarried.

And with her third husband JAMES she had one child...

Margaret Frances Disney Rooke - wife of William Sheldon.

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The 3rd Earl of Derwentwater, her eldest son, returned to England by 1709. And given his upbringing at the Jacobite French Court, he fought in the Jacobite Rising of 1715 having been attained for treason. Despite her plea for mercy to George I, King of Great Britain he was executed in 1716.

Another of her son's Charles was also a Jacobite. He joined both Jacobite Risings of 1715 and 1745. At the first one he was attained with his brother but escaped from prison. At second one he was also attained and found guilty of treason, but could not escape to be executed in 1746.

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nellygwyn · 4 years ago

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BOOK RECS

Okay, so lots of people wanted this and so, I am compiling a list of my favourite books (both fiction and non-fiction), books that I recommend you read as soon as humanly possible. In the meantime, I’ll be pinning this post to the top of my blog (once I work out how to do that lmao) so it will be accessible for old and new followers. I’m going to order this list thematically, I think, just to keep everything tidy and orderly. Of course, a lot of this list will consist of historical fiction and historical non-fiction because that’s what I read primarily and thus, that’s where my bias is, but I promise to try and spice it up just a little bit.

Favourite fiction books of all time:

The Mermaid and Mrs Hancock // Imogen Hermes Gowar

Sense and Sensibility // Jane Austen

Slammerkin // Emma Donoghue

Remarkable Creatures // Tracy Chevalier

Life Mask // Emma Donoghue

His Dark Materials // Philip Pullman (this includes the follow-up series The Book of Dust)

Emma // Jane Austen

The Miniaturist // Jessie Burton

Girl, Woman, Other // Bernadine Evaristo

Jane Eyre // Charlotte Brontë

Persuasion // Jane Austen

Girl with a Pearl Earring // Tracy Chevalier

The Silent Companions // Laura Purcell

Tess of the d’Urbervilles // Thomas Hardy

Northanger Abbey // Jane Austen

The Chronicles of Narnia // C.S. Lewis

Pride and Prejudice // Jane Austen

Goodnight, Mr Tom // Michelle Magorian

The French Lieutenant’s Woman // John Fowles

The Butcher’s Hook // Janet Ellis

Mansfield Park // Jane Austen

The All Souls Trilogy // Deborah Harkness

The Railway Children // Edith Nesbit

Favourite non-fiction books of all time

Catherine the Great: Portrait of a Woman // Robert Massie

Love and Louis XIV: The Women in the Life of the Sun King // Antonia Fraser

Madame de Pompadour // Nancy Mitford

The First Iron Lady: A Life of Caroline of Ansbach // Matthew Dennison

Black and British: A Forgotten History // David Olusoga

Courtiers: The Secret History of the Georgian Court // Lucy Worsley

Young and Damned and Fair: The Life of Katherine Howard, the Fifth Wife of Henry VIII // Gareth Russell

King Charles II // Antonia Fraser

Casanova’s Women // Judith Summers

Marie Antoinette: The Journey // Antonia Fraser

Mrs. Jordan’s Profession: The Story of a Great Actress and a Future King // Claire Tomalin

Jane Austen at Home // Lucy Worsley

Mudlarking: Lost and Found on the River Thames // Lara Maiklem

The Last Royal Rebel: The Life and Death of James, Duke of Monmouth // Anna Keay

The Marlboroughs: John and Sarah Churchill // Christopher Hibbert

Nell Gwynn: A Biography // Charles Beauclerk

Jurassic Mary: Mary Anning and the Primeval Monsters // Patricia Pierce

Georgian London: Into the Streets // Lucy Inglis

The Prince Who Would Be King: The Life and Death of Henry Stuart // Sarah Fraser

Wedlock: How Georgian Britain’s Worst Husband Met His Match // Wendy Moore

Dead Famous: An Unexpected History of Celebrity from the Stone Age to the Silver Screen // Greg Jenner

Victorians Undone: Tales of the Flesh in the Age of Decorum // Kathryn Hughes

Crown of Blood: The Deadly Inheritance of Lady Jane Grey // Nicola Tallis

Favourite books about the history of sex and/or sex work

The Origins of Sex: A History of First Sexual Revolution // Faramerz Dabhoiwala

Erotic Exchanges: The World of Elite Prostitution in Eighteenth-Century Paris // Nina Kushner

Peg Plunkett: Memoirs of a Whore // Julie Peakman

Courtesans // Katie Hickman

The Other Victorians: A Study of Sexuality and Pornography in mid-Nineteenth Century England

Madams, Bawds, and Brothel Keepers // Fergus Linnane

The Secret History of Georgian London: How the Wages of Sin Shaped the Capital // Dan Cruickshank

A Curious History of Sex // Kate Lister

Sex and Punishment: 4000 Years of Judging Desire // Eric Berkowitz

Queen of the Courtesans: Fanny Murray // Barbara White

Rent Boys: A History from Ancient Times to Present // Michael Hone

Celeste // Roland Perry

Sex and the Gender Revolution // Randolph Trumbach

The Pleasure’s All Mine: A History of Perverse Sex // Julie Peakman

LGBT+ fiction I love*

The Confessions of the Fox // Jordy Rosenberg

As Meat Loves Salt // Maria Mccann

Bone China // Laura Purcell

Brideshead Revisited // Evelyn Waugh

The Confessions of Frannie Langton // Sara Collins

The Intoxicating Mr Lavelle // Neil Blackmore

Orlando // Virginia Woolf

Tipping the Velvet // Sarah Waters

She Rises // Kate Worsley

The Mercies // Kiran Millwood Hargrave

Oranges are Not the Only Fruit // Jeanette Winterson

Maurice // E.M Forster

Frankisstein: A Love Story // Jeanette Winterson

If I Was Your Girl // Meredith Russo

The Well of Loneliness // Radclyffe Hall

* fyi, Life Mask and Girl, Woman, Other are also LGBT+ fiction

Classics I haven’t already mentioned (including children’s classics)

Far From the Madding Crowd // Thomas Hardy

I Capture the Castle // Dodie Smith

Vanity Fair // William Makepeace Thackeray

Wuthering Heights // Emily Brontë

The Blazing World // Margaret Cavendish, Duchess of Newcastle

Murder on the Orient Express // Agatha Christie

Great Expectations // Charles Dickens

North and South // Elizabeth Gaskell

Evelina // Frances Burney

Death on the Nile // Agatha Christie

The Monk // Matthew Lewis

Frankenstein // Mary Shelley

Vilette // Charlotte Brontë

The Mayor of Casterbridge // Thomas Hardy

The Tenant of Wildfell Hall // Anne Brontë

Vile Bodies // Evelyn Waugh

Beloved // Toni Morrison

The Murder of Roger Ackroyd // Agatha Christie

The History of Tom Jones, A Foundling // Henry Fielding

A Room With a View // E.M. Forster

Silas Marner // George Eliot

Jude the Obscure // Thomas Hardy

My Man Jeeves // P.G. Wodehouse

Lady Audley’s Secret // Mary Elizabeth Braddon

Middlemarch // George Eliot

Little Women // Louisa May Alcott

Children of the New Forest // Frederick Marryat

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings // Maya Angelou

Rebecca // Daphne du Maurier

Alice in Wonderland // Lewis Carroll

The Wind in the Willows // Kenneth Grahame

Anna Karenina // Leo Tolstoy

Howard’s End // E.M. Forster

The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole, Aged 13 3/4 // Sue Townsend

Even more fiction recommendations

The Darling Strumpet // Gillian Bagwell

The Wolf Hall trilogy // Hilary Mantel

The Illumination of Ursula Flight // Anne-Marie Crowhurst

Queenie // Candace Carty-Williams

Forever Amber // Kathleen Winsor

The Corset // Laura Purcell

Love in Colour // Bolu Babalola

Artemisia // Alexandra Lapierre

Blackberry and Wild Rose // Sonia Velton

The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories // Angela Carter

The Languedoc trilogy // Kate Mosse

Longbourn // Jo Baker

A Skinful of Shadows // Frances Hardinge

The Black Moth // Georgette Heyer

The Far Pavilions // M.M Kaye

The Essex Serpent // Sarah Perry

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo // Taylor Jenkins Reid

Cavalier Queen // Fiona Mountain

The Winter Palace // Eva Stachniak

Friday’s Child // Georgette Heyer

Falling Angels // Tracy Chevalier

Little // Edward Carey

Chocolat // Joanne Harris

The Watchmaker of Filigree Street // Natasha Pulley

My Sister, the Serial Killer // Oyinkan Braithwaite

The Convenient Marriage // Georgette Heyer

Katie Mulholland // Catherine Cookson

Restoration // Rose Tremain

Meat Market // Juno Dawson

Lady on the Coin // Margaret Campbell Bowes

In the Company of the Courtesan // Sarah Dunant

The Crimson Petal and the White // Michel Faber

A Place of Greater Safety // Hilary Mantel

The Little Shop of Found Things // Paula Brackston

The Improbability of Love // Hannah Rothschild

The Murder Most Unladylike series // Robin Stevens

Dark Angels // Karleen Koen

The Words in My Hand // Guinevere Glasfurd

Time’s Convert // Deborah Harkness

The Collector // John Fowles

Vivaldi’s Virgins // Barbara Quick

The Foundling // Stacey Halls

The Phantom Tree // Nicola Cornick

The Seven Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle // Stuart Turton

Golden Hill // Francis Spufford

Assorted non-fiction not yet mentioned

The Dinosaur Hunters: A True Story of Scientific Rivalry and the Discovery of the Prehistoric World // Deborah Cadbury

The Beauty and the Terror: An Alternative History to the Italian Renaissance // Catherine Fletcher

All the King's Women: Love, Sex, and Politics in the life of Charles II // Derek Jackson

Mozart’s Women // Jane Glover

Scandalous Liaisons: Charles II and His Court // R.E. Pritchard

Matilda: Queen, Empress, Warrior // Catherine Hanley

Black Tudors // Miranda Kaufman

To Catch a King: Charles II's Great Escape // Charles Spencer

1666: Plague, War and Hellfire // Rebecca Rideal

Henrietta Maria: Charles I's Indomitable Queen // Alison Plowden

Catherine of Braganza: Charles II's Restoration Queen // Sarah-Beth Watkins

Four Sisters: The Lost Lives of the Romanov Grand Duchesses // Helen Rappaport

Aristocrats: Caroline, Emily, Louisa and Sarah Lennox, 1740-1832 // Stella Tillyard

The Fortunes of Francis Barber: The True Story of the Jamaican Slave who Became Samuel Johnson’s Heir // Michael Bundock

Black London: Life Before Emancipation // Gretchen Gerzina

In These Times: Living in Britain Through Napoleon’s Wars, 1793-1815

The King’s Mistress: Scandal, Intrigue and the True Story of the Woman who Stole the Heart of George I // Claudia Gold

Perdita: The Life of Mary Robinson // Paula Byrne

The Gentleman’s Daughter: Women’s Lives in Georgian England // Amanda Vickery

Terms and Conditions: Life in Girls’ Boarding School, 1939-1979 // Ysenda Maxtone Graham

Fanny Burney: A Biography // Claire Harman

Aphra Behn: A Secret Life // Janet Todd

The Imperial Harem: Women and the Sovereignty in the Ottoman Empire // Leslie Peirce

The Fall of the House of Byron // Emily Brand

The Favourite: Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough // Ophelia Field

Night-Walking: A Nocturnal History of London // Matthew Beaumont, Will Self

Jane Austen: A Life // Claire Tomalin

Beloved Emma: The Life of Emma, Lady Hamilton // Flora Fraser

Sentimental Murder: Love and Madness in the 18th Century // John Brewer

Henrietta Howard: King’s Mistress, Queen’s Servant // Tracy Borman

City of Beasts: How Animals Shaped Georgian London // Tom Almeroth-Williams

Queen Anne: The Politics of Passion // Anne Somerset

Charlotte Brontë: A Life // Claire Harman

Goddess: The Secret Lives of Marilyn Monroe // Anthony Summers

Queer City: Gay London from the Romans to the Present Day // Peter Ackroyd

Elizabeth I and Her Circle // Susan Doran

African Europeans: An Untold History // Olivette Otele

Young Romantics: The Shelleys, Byron, and Other Tangled Lives // Daisy Hay

How to Create the Perfect Wife // Wendy Moore

The Sphinx: The Life of Gladys Deacon, Duchess of Marlborough // Hugo Vickers

The Life and Death of Anne Boleyn // Eric Ives

Dancing in the Streets: A History of Collective Joy // Barbara Ehrenreich

A is for Arsenic: The Poisons of Agatha Christie // Kathryn Harkup

Mistresses: Sex and Scandal at the Court of Charles II // Linda Porter

Female Husbands: A Trans History // Jen Manion

Ladies in Waiting: From the Tudors to the Present Day // Anne Somerset

Ghostland: In Search of a Haunted Country // Edward Parnell

A Cheesemonger’s History of the British Isles // Ned Palmer

The Butchering Art: Joseph Lister’s Quest to Transform the Grisly World of Victorian Medicine // Lindsey Fitzharris

Medieval Woman: Village Life in the Middle Ages // Ann Baer

The Husband Hunters: Social Climbing in London and New York // Anne de Courcy

The Voices of Nîmes: Women, Sex, and Marriage in Reformation Languedoc // Suzannah Lipscomb

The Daughters of the Winter Queen // Nancy Goldstone

Mad and Bad: Real Heroines of the Regency // Bea Koch

Bess of Hardwick // Mary S. Lovell

The Royal Art of Poison // Eleanor Herman

The Strangest Family: The Private Lives of George III, Queen Charlotte, and the Hanoverians // Janice Hadlow

Palaces of Pleasure: From Music Halls to the Seaside to Football; How the Victorians Invented Mass Entertainment // Lee Jackson

Favourite books about current social/political issues (?? for lack of a better term)

Feminism, Interrupted: Disrupting Power // Lola Olufemi

Revolting Prostitutes: The Fight for Sex Worker Rights // Molly Smith, Juno Mac

Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About Race // Reni Eddo-Lodge

Trans Britain: Our Journey from the Shadows // Christine Burns

Me, Not You: The Trouble with Mainstream Feminism // Alison Phipps

Trans Like Me: A Journey For All Of Us // C.N Lester

Brit(Ish): On Race, Identity, and Belonging // Afua Hirsch

The Brutish Museums: The Benin Bronzes, Colonial Violence, and Cultural Restitution // Dan Hicks

Things No One Will Tell Fat Girls: A Handbook for Unapologetic Living // Jes M. Baker

Hood Feminism: Notes from the Women White Feminists Forgot // Mikki Kendall

Denial: Holocaust History on Trial // Deborah Lipstadt

Yes Means Yes: Visions of Female Sexual Power and a World Without Rape // Jessica Valenti, Jaclyn Friedman

Don’t Touch My Hair // Emma Dabiri

Sister Outsider // Audre Lorde

Unicorn: The Memoir of a Muslim Drag Queen // Amrou Al-Kadhi

Trans Power // Juno Roche

Breathe: A Letter to My Sons // Imani Perry

The Windrush Betrayal: Exposing the Hostile Environment // Amelia Gentleman

Happy Fat: Taking Up Space in a World That Wants to Shrink You // Sofie Hagen

Diaries, memoirs & letters

The Diary of a Young Girl // Anne Frank

Renia’s Diary: A Young Girl’s Life in the Shadow of the Holocaust // Renia Spiegel

Writing Home // Alan Bennett

The Diary of Samuel Pepys // Samuel Pepys

Histoire de Ma Vie // Giacomo Casanova

Toast: The Story of a Boy’s Hunger // Nigel Slater

London Journal, 1762-1763 // James Boswell

The Diary of a Bookseller // Shaun Blythell

Jane Austen’s Letters // edited by Deidre la Faye

H is for Hawk // Helen Mcdonald

The Salt Path // Raynor Winn

The Glitter and the Gold // Consuelo Vanderbilt, Duchess of Marlborough

Journals and Letters // Fanny Burney

Educated // Tara Westover

Bookworm: A Memoir of Childhood Reading // Lucy Mangan

Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal? // Jeanette Winterson

A Dutiful Boy // Mohsin Zaidi

Secrets and Lies: The Trials of Christine Keeler // Christine Keeler

800 Years of Women’s Letters // edited by Olga Kenyon

Istanbul // Orhan Pamuk

Henry and June // Anaïs Nin

Historical romance (this is a short list because I’m still fairly new to this genre)

The Bridgerton series // Julia Quinn

One Good Earl Deserves a Lover // Sarah Mclean

Nine Rules to Break When Romancing a Rake // Sarah Mclean

The Lady’s Guide to Celestial Mechanics // Olivia Waite

That Could Be Enough // Alyssa Cole

Unveiled // Courtney Milan

The Craft of Love // EE Ottoman

The Maiden Lane series // Elizabeth Hoyt

An Extraordinary Union // Alyssa Cole

Slightly Dangerous // Mary Balogh

Dangerous Alliance: An Austentacious Romance // Jennieke Cohen

A Fashionable Indulgence // KJ Charles

#the only categories not on here are plays and poetry #just bc this post would be even longer!#you can ask me for my favourite playwrights/poets separately tho

186 notes · View notes

redladydeath · 3 years ago

Text

jhgfdfghjkhgf i was going to just post this in the video’s comment section but for some reason that’s not working so here’re act one of the william and mary play:

Mary: Look, you’re my best friend, okay? And, um, best friends tell each other everything, right? Oh my god. Excuse me. Oh, Maria Regina, it was awful! He was awful, William, my Dutch cousin, or as father likes to call him “the Dutch Dog” *laughs*… I had the honor of being forced to dine with the extended family. My little Dutch cousin William– and was he rude! Oh my god. He spent the entire meal either staring at me or grimacing at the food. No manners. And he’s old too, like, at least thirty, not that you’d know by looking at him, he’s very short, but old enough to know better, and all that I could hear the entire time was his breathing– no, no, no– wheezing, with his tiny little child-sized mouth. *imitates wheezing* [indecipherable] –cause he had [indecipherable] big monster of a nose to use, but I guess that was out of commission. And King Charles II– God save him– and all twelve of his spaniels, seated at the table, eating off of the plates– how am I related to these people?

Anne: Mary!

Mary: Shh! Shh! My sister! We’re fighting! Oh god. Uncle Charles– God save him– William... ew. I’ve never fit in with this entire family and now I find out that my sister’s been ta… my sister– No, no I will not stand here and idly gossip. My sister– no. Sh– no. Sh– no. Sh– nope! Betty!

Betty: Yes, your ladyship?

Mary: Um, take Maria Regina will you?

Betty: Yes, your ladyship. Anne has been screaming for you, your ladyship.

Mary: Yes, tell her I’m dead.

Betty: Yes, your ladyship.

Mary: No, don’t, that’ll get her hopes up. Tell her that I’m resting– exhausted from a fascinating dinner with our exotic Dutch cousin.

Betty: Yes, your ladyship.

Mary: And I can trust you all? Oh, um, and would you bring me an ink, pen, and paper?

Betty: Yes, your ladyship.

Mary: How’s this? Dearest, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear... girlfriend– no, no, no... lover– no, too saucy– um... husband? Yeah… it’s a woman, but we’re gonna call her a husband. Don’t get confused! Um, dearest husband, after my prayers to all-mighty God, I’ve come to make peace with you, for it is a strange thing for a man and a wife to quarrel. What more can I say to prove that I love with more zeal than any lover can? You are loved with a love never known by man–

Anne: Mary!

Mary: You are loved more than can be expressed–

Anne: Mary!

Mary: By your ever-obedient–

Anne: Mary!

Mary: SHUT UP!! –wife. But to my great sorrow, I find out that you’ve been corresponding with *whispered* my sister!

Anne: Mary!

Mary: Shut up! Oh, to be your humble servant! To kiss the ground where you go–

Anne: What are you doing?!

Mary: Shut up! Oh, to be your dog on a string, your fish in a net, your limber trout–

Anne: She writes me too, you know!

Mary: No, she doesn’t!

Anne: Yes, she does!

Mary: Shut up! [indecipherable] If my letter has made the effect, dear “husband”, on your hard ear, I may without scruple call you my dearest, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear husband.

Anne: She is not your husband and your letter to her are weird. Also, she sends me letters and calls me her husband and loves me more than she loves you and you’re a lesbian!

Mary: That word doesn’t even exist yet, Anne!

Anne: Lesbian!

Mary: Keep your voice down!

Anne: She writes me more letters.

Mary: Our love is forbidden.

Anne: Get over yourself!

Mary: She knows unlike you I’ll be queen!

Anne: Whatever. I don’t care. I don’t even want to be queen.

Mary: Oh, good, cause you never will be.

Anne: Of course I will! When your head gets so damned big from all the bullshit praise, even your ugly, masculine, lesbian neck won’t be able to support its weight. Snap! And your head will fall off, like our poor headless grandpa Charles–

Mary and Anne: God save him!

Mary: To imagine the death of a monarch is treason, I could look you in the Tower.

Anne: You couldn’t!

Mary: When I’m queen.

Anne: You wouldn’t!

Mary: I could!

Anne: Nu-uh!

Mary: Uh-huh!

Anne: You wouldn’t be the first queen to do that to a little sister.

Mary: Well, you came in here and started it.

Anne: I know. I have something to tell you.

Mary: You could’ve waited!

Anne: I have a memory. About mummy.

Mary: Did you? Really? Would you tell me?

Anne: When we knew she wouldn’t make it much longer, she asked me to come to her bedside. She had just got her blood let, so she was speaking very openly.

Mary: It’s okay, Anne!

Anne: She asked me “Do you know why I named your older sister Mary but named you after me?”

Mary: Why?

Anne: Mummy said… “Because prefer you to that bitch older sister!”

Mary: Leave!

Anne: Mom liked me more!

Mary: I was named after a queen!

Anne: Yeah, Bloody Mary! “Oh, look at me! I’m named after a fat, bloated Tudor Catholic!”

Mary and Anne: *spit*

Mary: Leave!

Anne: I just came in here to ask how dinner went.

Mary: It was lovely. Leave!

Anne: Was it? I bet it was boring.

Mary: Only for a child but when you’re fifteen years old you appreciate stimulating conversation!

Anne: [indecipherable]

Mary: Good!

Anne: Was he… stimulating?

Mary: Ew! I mean… yes.

Anne: What was he like?

Mary: Tall, dark, handsome.

Anne: Really? Tall, dark, and handsome?

Mary: Mmyeah.

Anne: I’m jealous.

Mary: You should be.

Anne: Did he stare at you?

Mary: What? No.

Anne: I guess he wouldn’t. Not after what I have heard.

Mary: Oh, I don’t even want to hear your idle gossip– what did you hear?

Anne: Oh, it’s just that father told me that Uncle Charles–

Mary and Anne: God save him!

Anne: –Tried to marry you off to him.

Mary: What?

Anne: For some Dutch alliance.

Mary: What?

Anne: Yeah. He turned you down though.

Mary: He turned me down?

Anne: Three times.

Mary: What?

Anne: And here I was going to come in and make fun of you! I thought William was a tiny little goblin man. That would’ve been so embarrassing!

Mary: Right…

Anne: If you were turned down by an ugly little goblin man.

Mary: Right…

Anne: Three times!

Mary: Leave!

Anne: Why?

Mary: Leave!

Anne: I thought he was stimulating!

Mary: I want to be alone!

Anne: Mary the Martyr, you’re so weird! Maybe you’ll actually fit in if you didn’t lock yourself in your room all the time writing creepy letters. Some queen you’ll be! You’re friends with a fish!

Mary: Well, I will be queen whether I want to or not!

Anne: Mary the Martyr, you’re engaged to Louis the fucking XIV, what right do you have to be mad at me?

Mary: ...Have you seen the latest portrait of Louis?

Anne: Yeah!

Mary and Anne: *squee*

Anne: He’s fucking gorgeous! Even for a Catholic!

Mary and Anne: *spit*

Anne: Milky skin, so fucking rich! Full deep eyes, tight little French ass…

Mary: Anne! God is listening!

Anne: [indecipherable] I’m just appreciating the work! Those portraits are rarely accurate though. You saw the portrait of Uncle Charles–

Mary and Anne: God save him!

Anne: –He looked like a Roman god dipped in oil.

Mary: What?

Anne: He glistened Mary! Like a buttered up Roman statue! In reality, he looks more like butter. Well… butter with syphilis.

Mary: Oh my god, you can be quite cruel Anne.

Anne: I’m destined to marry one of our fat, inbred cousins, so I’m allowed to be.

Mary: Sorry.

Anne: Yeah, it’s whatever. Well, I’m going! Unlike you I actually have friends to hang out with.

Mary: Oh, bad company ruins good morals.

Anne: Fuck you! See you at dinner.

Mary: That’s why that little Dutch dwarf was staring at me. Oh my God, could you imagine that tiny, wheezing little man crawling into your bed every night– oh my god, it’s an offensive thought! But the most offensive part? He said no! He said no to me! Oh my God, the man is a slug! William of Orange– blegh! And Uncle Charles– God save him– tried to make me marry that, not that I would’ve! No! I would’ve told him off, right to his face. I’m not afraid of him! I will not be made a sacrificial lamb. I would’ve told him off to his face! Right to his tiny, regal, little mustache: “No, Uncle! You may be king, but I will not marry that creature! Put me in chains; lock me in the Tower; feed me to the ghost of Cromwell; I absolutely refuse to marry that creature!” I would’ve told him off. I will not be made a sacrificial lamb!

*fanfare*

Mary: Oh, Jesus Christ.

Betty: Your uncle, King Charles II– God save him– is here your ladyship.

Mary: Okay, send him in.

Betty: Yes, your ladyship.

*dogs yapping*

Charles: Quiet, quiet, quiet! [indecipherable] Good doggy-woggys! Now, niece!

Mary: Oh, Uncle, God save you–

Charles: Rise dear! You’re one of the few girls at court I’d rather not see on her knees.

Mary: Oh– ew.

Charles: Oyster?

Groom of the Stool: Yes, your majesty! *grunting*

Charles: I’ve just come from your mother and father’s apartments.

Mary: She’s not my mother.

Charles: Charming lady, your new mummy. She’s got those bovine hips, so I assume she’ll be plopping out heirs as soon as James’ dousing rod directs her away from foreign [indecipherable].

Mary: Oh my God.

Charles: Oyster?

Groom of the Stool: Yes, your majesty! *grunting*

Charles: If God is good– and we know he is– she’ll give birth to a few boys before she’s spent. Women are quite fragile, as you know Mary. It’s especially hard with our good Stuart stock and– Oh, Dicky, no, no hump, no hump, daddy has a [indecipherable]. Might we can hope for a few younger brothers– you’d like that, wouldn’t you Mary?

Mary: Oh, yes, dear uncle. How I love being an older sister to our dear, simple Anne and how I’d revel in the opportunity to be an older sister again.

Charles: Oyster?

Groom of the Stool: Yes, your majesty! *grunting*

Charles: [indecipherable] England [indecipherable] worry that another woman would take the throne.

Mary: Yes, poor England.

Charles: Yes.

Mary: Ah, ah, ah, ah!

Charles: Dicky! If that heifer can squeeze out just one little boy, England is saved! Oh, Mary, you see it’s not that women shouldn’t be involved in politics, it’s that they can’t. Their brains aren’t built for it! I don’t even know if you can comprehend what I’m saying to you right now!

Mary: I’m lost.

Charles: Yes, I assumed so. Oyster?

Groom of the Stool: Yes, your majesty! *grunting*

Charles: *chocking, spits* [indecipherable] Go on, up! [indecipherable] Now, where were we? Yes– women are not fit to rule.

Mary: Sorry, once more.

Charles: I am king.

Mary: You are king.

Charles: I am a great king.

Mary: You are a great king.

Charles: Women… cannot be kings.

Mary: No, they’re queens.

Charles: …Very good Mary! I’m very proud. That’s a real thought you just had!

Mary: I’m lost again.

Charles: So, if I am king and women…?

Mary: Can’t be kings.

Charles: Then women…?

Mary: Can’t be great kings?

Charles: Exactly! I am very impressed with your understanding of Restoration politics. As king, I’ve found it requires tremendous subtlety. OW! Dicky, get off! Dicky, don’t let–! God, you bastard! Bite that hand that feeds you, ey? Groom of the Stool!

Groom of the Stool: Yes, your majesty?

Charles: Lock him in the Tower!

Groom of the Stool: Yes, your majesty.

Charles: You made a big mistake, Dicky! No [indecipherable] bites a sovereign.

Groom of the Stool: Yes, your majesty!

Charles: Now, let us break our conversation into greater areas regarding your sex.

Mary: Ah, like needle crappy gossip.

Charles: And… boys.

Mary: Ah, yes, boys.

Charles: And… marriage.

Mary: Ah, yes, my purpose in life.

Charles: You a beautiful Stuart girl– Protestant– a large Protestant wedding to a regal, Protestant husband.

Mary: No, ha, Louis’ Catholic.

Charles: Louis? Yes, he’s Catholic.

Mary: Right, but you just said–

Charles: You, a beautiful Stuart girl–

Mary: Oh no!

Charles: A large Protestant wedding–

Mary: Oh, god!

Charles: To a regal–

Mary: No!

Charles: Protestant...

Mary: Please!

Charles: Did you enjoy dinner last night? You [indecipherable] to impressed your cousin.

Mary: No.

Charles: William! Were you taken by him, Mary?

Mary: *bahing*

Charles: He was very taken by you.

Mary: *bahing*

Charles: Your first cousin, so you’ll have a lot in common!

Mary: *bahing*

Charles: My dead sister’s boy! She was a real bitch.

Mary: *bahing*

Charles: And you’ll have the line of succession, so you won’t have to worry about being queen, Mary. William can handle it. Sorry he’s such a cold, ugly bastard.

Mary: *spluttering*

Charles: Your Catholic father *spits* is pissed. Not surprising, but I ordered him to shut the fuck up about it. The wedding is next week. La~!

Mary: Wait! Anne!

Charles: Oh, you’re too thoughtful, dear girl! Anne will be fine on her own.

Mary: No, no, no, marry Anne off to William!

Charles: Certainly not! You’re next in line after your idiot father. We’ll marry Anne off to one of the fat, inbred cousins.

Mary: But I learned French!

Charles: And now you’ll get to learn Dutch! It’s not a beautiful language, but it matches the people. The king exits!

Mary: *sobbing*

*church music / exert of “Aria” by Marco Rosano*

Priest: Gathered! His Royal Highness Charles II!

Ensemble: GOD SAVE HIM!

Priest: The bride’s father James (the eventual second)– what? Your father refused to attend!

Mary: *sobbing*

Priest: We are gathered today in the eyes of our Protestant God to witness the eternal joining of two people, and more importantly, two nations. Our beloved England and our at-least-for-the-time-being-not-enemy Holland.

*fanfare*

Priest: The Dutch Stand Stadtholder! ...William? ...The Prince of Orange!

William: *violent coughing*

Priest: William? You good?

William: Ja.

Priest: Do you need a minute?

William: [indecipherable]

Priest: Okay! So… the, uh… the Dutch Stadtholder! The Prince of Orang– William?

William: *violent coughing* [indecipherable]

Priest: We are gathered– we are– we’re gathered– we are gathered– gathered– and we are gathered–

William: [Dutch word]

Priest: Pardon?

William: [Dutch word]

Priest: Sorry, I–

William: [Dutch word], stepping [Dutch word].

Priest: Oh, yes. *groaning* NOW! We are gathered for the joining of two people, two nations, and one [indecipherable] faith. Do you, Mary, take a solemn vow to obey and honor William until you’re parted by death? Okay, good. Do you, William, take a solemn vow to take Mary as your bride and treat her with whatever respect you happen to feel like showing her? Alright, whoo! You’re all good in here. You may kiss the bride.

William: *violent coughing*

*retro dance music* / exert of “Oh! Oh! I'm Goin' Home” by The Peppers

Mary: Wow. Midnight. Where did the time go?

William: Time for bed.

Mary: Right. Yup. Time for bed. It’s late and… it’s late and… it’s late and… it’s time for bed and there’s the bed, it’s time for bed and… we’re married now.

Charles: Now, nephew! To your purpose! God save Saint George and England! *giggling*

Mary: Right, historically, um, all of that actually happened. Well– oh, sorry, I was talking to someone else. Well, I guess it’s late, right? It’s late and it’s, um, time to go do– time to do– time to go do do do do do do do do doing of it. Ah! Wow. A ring… Is it for me? …Should I take it? …I’ll take it. Wow… a ruby… yes, ruby– rubies are very– rubies are red! Red. Rubies are… pink actually, now that I look at it. Funny, they’re really much more pink. Everyone always says “ruby red” but they’re much more pink when you look at it, oh look at that, it’s–

William: My mother’s.

Mary: Your mother’s? Wow. Beautiful. Ring. That was your mother’s. Ring, ruby, ring, ruby, ring–

William: She’s dead.

Mary: What? Oh, I’m sorry. About that– that she’s dead. What happened? Sorry! No, none of my business. Poor Mum! Um, my mom is dead. Died when I was a child so… I know what it’s like. To have a dead mum. *awkward laughter*

William: You don’t have to smile for me. You don’t have to pretend.

Mary: Dearest dear, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear husband– this is the woman again, um... You’ll find a pair of horns on your front door for… it appears I’ve taken another husband. Hm…

*whistle*

Anne: I brought you a going-away present. It’s another goldfish.

Mary: Thank you, sister.

Anne: I knew you already that one, so you’d like it. I hope they don’t eat each other. Do goldfish eat each other? Is it a long trip to Holland?

Mary: I don’t know!

Anne: You seem glum. Story time! When Aunt Catherine–

Mary and Anne: God save her!

Anne: Married Uncle Charlie–

Mary and Anne: God save him!

Anne: She had to leave Portugal in order to marry him. She hadn’t even met him yet, so I guess it could be worse.

Mary: Yes, but she came to England, I’m leaving it!

Anne: Yeah, fair. Just trying to help.

Mary: I don’t need your help, dear sister, this is my cross to bear.

Anne: Saint Mary the Martyr of English diplomacy! If only you were Catholic.

Mary and Anne: *spit*

*whistle*

Mary: I’ve never left London, that’s what scares me the most. God be with thee, sister. God be with thee, England.

William: …Two.

Mary: Oh. Yes, Anne got me one as a going-away pr– okay.

Anne: I hate him.

Mary: Well, he’s your brother now.

Anne: Please, I hated him when he was my cousin. I think you should be the first Protestant saint just for sleeping with him. I can’t even imagine!

Mary: …Neither can I.

Anne: WHAT?! TELL ME EVERYTHING!!

Mary: Well, considering we haven’t, that’s everything to tell!

Anne: Oh my God! You’ve been married a week!

Mary: This stays between you and me, Anne!

Anne: Oh, but Mary, I have to tell my friends!

Mary: I don’t like your friends!

Anne: Fuck you! The court would die if they knew!

Mary: No!

Anne: But Mary, you can’t tell something this juicy and force me to hold it inside!

Mary: Shh!

Anne: But it’s not you Mary, it’s him. That puny prig.

Mary: No.

Anne: But you don’t even like him!

Mary: What wife likes her husband?

Anne: He’s so gross and I used to think you were gross, but he’s like, super gross. Oh thank God you’re not screwing! Your kids would be so gro– I didn’t realize Papa hadn’t told you the truth about him!

Mary: Oh, what did father say?

Anne: He buggers boys. Said he buggers boys. Said if he takes the throne, England gets two queens.

Mary: …I’ll have nothing to do with silly, irreverent myths, Anne… And tell my other husband I’ll send her the new address.

Anne: Gross! [indecipherable] each other!

*Dutch folk music* / exert of “Klompe Dans” by Camerata Trajectina

Citizen: Welkom in Nederland!

Mary: Oh, yes, thank you.

Citizen: Welkom in Nederland!

Mary: Ah, yes, thank you.

Citizen: Welkom in Nederland!

Mary: Thank you.

*fanfare*

Mary: Oh, good day William!

Citizens: Welkom in Nederland!

Mary: Life in Holland. It’s beautiful. It’s very, very clean.

Citizen: Welkom in Nederland!

Betty: Your ladyship?

Citizens: Welkom in Nederland!

Mary: Thank you! Please keep talking, Betty.

Betty: Your ladyship–

Citizens: Welkom in Nederland!

Mary: Anything in English– thank you!

Betty: *whispers*

Mary: Dank u.

Citizens: Ooo!

*fanfare*

Betty: Supper time!

Mary: I’m not hungry.

Betty: Not you, your ladyship.

Citizen: Welkom in Nederland…

Mary: …Dank u.

Citizens: Ooo!

Mary: I must grin when my heart is fit to break, I must speak when my heart is so oppressed I can scarcely breathe.

Betty: Oh, that’s real pretty. The Bastard, your ladyship.

Mary: The Bastard?

Betty: Your half-cousin, King Charles II– God Save Him–’s bastard son, your ladyship.

Mary: Here?

Betty: Uh-huh.

Mary: Whoo!

Monmouth: Cousin!

William: Let me not interrupt your reunion. Continue this.

Mary: How’s home?

Monmouth: England is good! The family not so much. My father, Charles II–

Mary and Monmouth: God save him!

Monmouth: –seems ill. Parliament hates your father, James (the eventual second) since he’s decided to be Catholic–

Mary and Monmouth: *spit*

Monmouth: –since we just had nine years of civil war, ugh! People would rather avoid any foreseeable royalist drama, so Parliament wrote the Exclusion Act to keep your father off the throne.

Mary: Oh no!

Monmouth: No! Charles II–

Mary and Monmouth: God save him!

Monmouth: –refused to sign it.

Mary: Oh, good.

Monmouth: No! That’s why [indecipherable] is shit! Charles II–

Mary and Monmouth: God save him!

Monmouth: –dissolved Parliament, hoping to form a more moderate one.

Mary: Oh, good!

Monmouth: No! Bad! A group of Protestants then tried to blow up my papa Charlie–

Mary and Monmouth: God save him!

Monmouth: –on his way back from a race to [indecipherable]!

Mary: Oh no!

Monmouth: Oh yes!

Monmouth: –[indecipherable] watching the race, ALL OF NEWMARKET CAUGHT ON FIRE!!

Mary: Oh no!

Monmouth: No, that’s good! Charles’– God save him– house in Newmarket was destroyed, so they had to leave the race early, thus foiling the plot to kill him!

Mary: Oh, God is very generous to our family. And how’s Anne?

Monmouth: Married.

Mary: Oh, to one of the inbred cousins?

Monmouth: We’re royal! Inbred cousins are the only dignified option! How’s life in the Dutch court?

Mary: Um… clean, it’s very, very clean.

Monmouth: Ah, thank God you have William.

Mary: *hysterical laughter* ...Yes. No, I do see William from time to time. He likes to walk from stage left to stage right to stage right to stage left.

Monmouth: Incredibly generous man– looking forward to our dinner tonight! He invited me to hunt tomorrow and all the rest of next week! Very charming!

Mary: You’ve only been onstage for a minute and a half!

Betty: There are more officials for you to meet, your ladyship.

Monmouth: See you around, cuz. Ch-cha! …Ch-cha!

Citizen: Welkom in Nederland!

Mary: Dank u.

Citizens: Ooo!

William: …Welkom in Nederland! *laughter, interrupted by violent coughing*

*fanfare*

Citizen: Welkom in Nederland!

Betty: Alright! Her ladyship has another engagement she must prepare for, so sorry!

Mary: Ugh, what’s next Betty?

Betty: Nothing, your ladyship. I just think you’ve been gawked at enough today.

Mary: Oh, thank you Betty!

Betty: What’s a lady-in-waiting for?

Mary: But I’m afraid William might be cross once he finds out I didn’t finish all the state greetings. I guess I’d actually have to spend time with him for him to be cross with me.

Betty: He’s not one to get cross about things; he’s quite charming actually if you get past the hermetic silence.

Mary: I suppose he prefers the company of *whispered* his men?

*fanfare*

William and Monmouth: *laughing*

William: *starts coughing violently*

Monmouth: I love this guy!

*fanfare*

Betty: You’ve heard that already, have you?

Mary: Is it true?

Betty: Rumors, your ladyship. I also heard rumors of a girl who wrote letters to a woman she called her husband. And I now know a woman who still writes these letters!

Mary: Dismissed!

Betty: Your ladyship.

Mary: Wait. Put the children to bed, will you? Wait– wait, wait wait– just [indecipherable]. Don’t judge me! Dearest, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear– stop!– husband… Let me start again: Dearest, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear husband: You’ve not responded to any of my letter as of late!

Anne: Dearest sister!

Mary: Oh good God, Anne! Still able to interrupt me from across the English Chanel!

Anne: It is with good nice that I write. Since we last spoke… I’m pregnant!

Mary and Anne: *squeeing*

Anne: I know! I know! I fucking know! Ah, someone has to produce some heirs in this family!

Mary: Hey…

Anne: What have you been up to? Oh! My friends are here! Thank you, sis!

Mary: Anne is pregnant. My younger sister is pregnant …I’m jealous! Ugh!

*fanfare*

William and Monmouth: To hunt!

Monmouth: ♪ I’ll sing you eight, O! ♪

William and Monmouth: ♪ Green grow the rushes, O! ♪

William: ♪ What are your eight, O? ♪

Monmouth: ♪ Eight for the April Rainers! ♪

William: ♪ Seven for the seven stars in the sky! ♪

William and Monmouth: ♪ Six for the six proud walkers! ♪ Five for the symbols at your door! ♪ Four for the Gospel makers! ♪ THREE, THREE THE RIVALS! ♪ Two, two the lily-white boys! ♪ Clothed all in green, O! ♪ One is one and all alone! ♪ And evermore shall be so! ♪

*fanfare*

Mary: Betty!

Betty: *imitating the song*

Mary: Stop!

Betty: Oh! Yes, your ladyship.

Mary: My cousin, the Bastard, and Prince William have been spending an awful lot of time together!

Betty: William loves the hunt.

Mary: How do you know?!

Betty: He told me!

Mary: You’ve spoken with him? Am I the only person in the entire world who’s not had a single conversation with my husband?!

Betty: You just need to catch him in the right mood.

*fanfare*

Mary: Dearest, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear– Oh my God, you’re pathetic! Two husbands and neither one replies!

Anne: Okay, so I wasn’t pregnant. Well, I was, but I’m not anymore.

Mary: Oh… Anne I’m so sorry!

Anne: I know. But I will be again. Maybe tonight! God be with me!

Mary: I don’t have to be Mary the Martyr. I can fix him. I can make it work. It’s a job, right? I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I’m just doing my job!

*fanfare*

Mary: Oh, William! Um, I was wondering–

William: Nothing!

Monmouth: The hunt did not go well!

William: Ugh!

Anne: Yup, pregnant!

Mary: Again? Wow!

*fanfare*

Mary: Oh, William! I’d love to talk with you!

William: …but–but–but we’re going to the hunt?

Mary: Yes, but I’d really like to talk with you.

William: …Okay?

Mary: In private.

William: Um… After the hunt?

Mary: Yeah, okay, sure.

*fanfare*

Anne: Okay, that pregnancy wasn’t meant to be, but tonight, THIS IS THE ONE!

Mary: Tonight, this is the one!

*fanfare*

Mary: Oh, William! I’m so looking forward to our evening!

William: Not in the mood!

Monmouth: The stag got away!

*fanfare*

Mary: The stag got away…

Anne: Pregnant!

Mary: Ugh!

*fanfare*

Mary: William, wait! Tonight?

William: Eh!

Mary: Wait! Here, for good luck!

Monmouth: *retching*

*fanfare*

Mary: Tonight! Tonight!

*fanfare*

Mary: Oh, husband! How was the hunt?

William: I got the stag!

Mary: Oh, you must be very merry!

William: I… uh… I’m exhausted. Ugh…

Monmouth: Come on. Shake it off.

William: *violent coughing*

*fanfare*

Mary: I will force myself to love this creature.

*fanfare*

Mary: *screams* ...Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh! It must have been a chill!

William: [indecipherable]!

Mary: Oh, oh no! Oh no! Oh, my slipper! Oh, I–I’m so sorry to, uh, keep you from you duties!

William: I’ve been meaning to schedule a time for our talk.

Mary: Oh, you remembered?

William: What was the subject?

Mary: Us. You and me. Us and our… duties.

William: Ah. Our political duties are not as rulers, but as first citizens. Stadtholder means “the first citizen.” It is very different from life in England. For example, no Dutch citizen kisses my hand. In the Netherlands, we are all equals. Calvinists, Protestants, Jews– even the Jews Mary. [indecipherable] Do you like Holland?

Mary: Oh, it’s very, very clean. I’m not, um… I’m not sure if I’m fitting in.

William: Well, I don’t fit in and I was born here.

Mary: I feel the same way about my family.

William: Our family.

Mary: You’re very close to the Bastard, you know. Hunting and… actually talking and I was thinking, now that we’re actually talking, Anne is pregnant… again.

William: Ja? ...Yes? …This life is not the life you wanted, is that a true thing I just said? Bastard! Where is [indecipherable]?!

Monmouth: *whispers*

William: Your uncle, Charles II–

Mary: God save him!

William: –he’s dead.

Charles: …Oh.

Anne: I had a miscarriage. Oh, and Daddy’s the king now. God save him.

William: To his newly crowned majesty– James II– I send you greetings–

*evil music / exert of “Allegro” by Marco Rosano*

James: James II! Boy, you’re the husband of my eldest daughter, the heir apparent to the throne of England, my father’s grandchild, my son-in-law: it’s King James II!

William: Ah. From one very close ally to another very, very close ally– that is what we still are, right?

James: Say it! Say my name, William!

William: King James II?

James: YES! That’s me, the king! Say it again!

William: King James II, I first wish to send you condolences on the death of your brother, God save hi–

James: I was at his bed when he passed.

William: Surely, you provided much comfort to Charles–

James: Oh, “surely provided much comfort to Charles,” yes! He converted, on his deathbed, to Catholicism!

William: *spits*

James: I’ll never forget his final words to me: “Make sure my whores don’t starve!” Men of power keep mistresses, you know… Do you know that, William?

William: …Well, uh, the reason I write is because, well, I have an offer for you. You see, here in Europe we have a little club. I call it “a league”. Not everyone is allowed into it, actually, but England most definitely would be allowed in “the league”. It is what may be described as “exclusive”. A lot of really great countries have joined: uh, Austria, Spain, the Netherlands, even Savoy.

James: Which countries are not allowed?

William: France.

James: Oh, don’t like Louis, do we?

William: No, I don’t! Louis wants to be king of Europe and he– he is routinely invading us here in Holland. Your son-in-law: who is that? That is me! Which I know you aren’t thrilled about, but your daughter is the Princess of Orange. Louis XIV is invading not just my country, but also her country.

James: Please. Mary’s country is, and always will be, England!

William: And as the future Queen of England, you should protect her.

James: I wouldn’t be so sure about Mary. While she is the eldest, she’s still a woman, and unlike you, William, I plan to perform kingly duties with my queen.

William: I just wanted to invite you to our league.

James: I’m very important, I’ve got to go.

William: France is at our borders as we speak!

James: That’s not my problem. Mary was betrothed to him for years, you know, before she married you. My idiot brother made that happen against my protests but I’m the king now! I wasn’t supposed to be, but God wanted me. God needs me! Sixty years of second-fiddle to King Syphilis and now I’m calling the shots, William! I don’t need you, you need me, and frankly, I don’t really like you.

*evil music / exert of “Allegro” by Marco Rosano*

James: Shh!

William: Why you do that?

*evil music / exert of “Allegro” by Marco Rosano*

James: Shh!! Thank you. Ooo, ooo, how they all loved my brother Charles the Pervert– forced me to marry my daughter to that Dutch abortion! Now, I’d like to speak to the court! You all like… gossip, don’t you? Let’s talk about William.

*retro music / exert of “O Samba Brasileiro” by Walter Wanderley*

Mary: They’re laughing, Maria Regina. They’ve been whispering all morning and I don’t– I don’t want to sound paranoid but… I hear my name. I hear William’s name and I hear… Betty’s name.

Messengers: God save him!

Mary: Hello?

Messenger 1: Your father sends us–

Messenger 2: God save him!

Messenger 1: James II–

Messenger 2: Long may he reign!

Mary: Oh, Father sends you?

Messengers: God save him, yes!

Messenger 2: In his infinite and divine wisdom, we were sent to you–

Messenger 1: His oldest daughter–

Messenger 2: Possibly the future queen–

Mary: Possibly?

Messenger 1: Your mother, the queen–

Mary: She’s not my mother.

Messenger 2: Is hoping to reward England with many sons–

Messenger 1: But one’s eyes are to the future–

Messenger 2: He hasn’t forgotten his eldest.

Mary: Oh, we haven’t spoken–

Messenger 1: He thinks of you often.

Mary: Well, he doesn’t write.

Messenger 1: It’s not that he thinks of you as you are–

Mary: Okay…?

Messenger 2: More for what you could be.

Mary: Well, I’m just happy that he’s thinking of me.

Messenger 2: He’s thinking of your soul.

Messenger 1: Your eternal soul.

Messenger 2: Your eternal, everlasting soul.

Mary: Yup, those both mean the same thing.

Messenger 1: Since Jesus was crucified–

Messenger 2: [indecipherable], mind you–

Mary: Yes, I’ve heard.

Messenger 1: A church was born–

Messenger 2: The Catholic Church!

Mary: *spits* Oh, sorry, habit.

Messenger 1: James–

Messenger 2: King James–

Messengers: God save him!

Messenger 1: Has sent us–

Messenger 2: In his infinite and sacred judgment–

Messengers: To convert you to Catholicism!

Mary: …Yeah, no, I’m good.

Messenger 1: It’s the true faith.

Mary: Yes, next time he could just write.

Messenger 2: [indecipherable] reading materials!

Mary: Right, or even visit–

Messenger 1: [indecipherable] all the celebrities are Catholic.

Messenger 2: Wow, really?

Messenger 1: Really!

Messengers: Like who?

Messenger 2: The pope, you ever heard of him?

Messenger 1: Of course! Wow, the pope is Catholic?

Messengers: Who else?

Messenger 2: God!

Mary: Debatable.

Messengers: Who else?

Messenger 2: Louis XIV.

Messenger 1: Whoah, he’s a heartthrob.

Mary: Yes, okay, I’ve heard enough!

Messenger 1: But Louis’ such a hunk!

Messenger 2: And Catholic!

Messenger 1: And… He’s Catholic?

Messenger 2: You better believe it!

Messengers: A Catholic hunk!

Mary: Okay, I’m married!

Messenger 1: For now.

Mary: …Excuse me?

Messenger 1: Hard to ignore the rumors–

Messenger 2: Naughty rumors–

Messenger 1: Everyone’s tittling–

Messenger 2: A-tittle here, a-tittle there–

Messengers: Tittle everywhere!

Messenger 1: That little Dutch devil–

Messenger 2: Evil Protestant pervert–

Mary: Oh, no, no, no, him buggering boys– that’s just a rumor!

Messenger 1: Boys?!

Messenger 2: Buggering?!

Messenger 1: Boys?!

Messenger 2: Buggering?!

Messengers: Buggering boys?!

Messenger 1: More like buggering the help.

Messenger 2: Dutch devil!

Mary: With the help?

Messengers: Buggering the help.

Messenger 1: Yes, everyone knows–

Messenger 2: Knows her name even.

Mary: Do you know their name?

Messenger 1: Well, I’ve said everyone–

Messenger 2: We’re part of everyone–

Mary: So, yes?

Messengers: Yes!

Mary: What’s his name?

Messenger 1: His name?

Messenger 2: His name?

Messengers: Squinty Betty!

Messenger 1: Squinty Betty’s a man?

Messenger 2: I didn’t know she was a man!

Messeger 1: No, I bet Betty’s a man.

Messenger 2: No, man, she’s a wo-man.

Messenger 1: Wo-man?

Messengers: Wo-man, she’s a wo-man!

Mary: Wait, Squinty Betty?!

Messenger 1: And the Dutch devil!

Messenger 2: Evil Dutch devil!

Messenger 1: Evil!

Messenger 2: Evil: that’s not good!

Messenger 1: No, it’s not good!

Messenger 2: That’s the opposite of good!

Messengers: And what’s the opposite of good?

Mary: Evil!

Messangers: *scream*

Mary: *screams*

Messenger 1: [indecipherable] James–

Messenger 2: King James–

Messengers: God save him!

Messenger 1: Has the fires burning.

Mary: Fires?

Messenger 2: To feel the heat.

Messenger 1: Ow!

Messenger 2: Careful.

Messenger 1: It’s the heat.

Messenger 2: I feel it.

Messenger 1: [indecipherable] King James [indecipherable] our beloved England [indecipherable] burning more evil people than Charles ever did.

Mary: Wait, he’s burning people?

Messenger 2: [indecipherable]

Messenger 1: Evil people!

Mary: He’s burning people?!

Messenger 2: [indecipherable]

Messenger 1: Evil people!

Mary: Father’s burning people?!

Messenger 2: [indecipherable]

Messenger 1: Evil people!

Mary: Jesus!

Messengers: Praise him!

Messenger 1: Praise Jesus!

Messenger 2: Praise God!

Messenger 1: Praise the pope!

Messenger 2: And above all, praise the king!

Messengers: God save King James II, long may he reign!

Mary: …William and Betty– no… No, I’ll have nothing to do with silly, irreverent myths… Betty! Um, throw these away. And, um, put the children to bed, will you? Oh– oh– oh– oh– oh, um… question: how is it you always to find William in such a talkative mood?

Betty: I just run into him.

*laid back retro music / exert of “Rain” by Walter Wanderley*

Mary: It’s late. No, you don’t have to leave. You were in Betty’s room. Do you know how I know that? Maybe because the entire court is talking about it! No, you don’t need to talk! I have tried to get you to talk for months, you do not need to talk now! Fuck off, Betty! The longest I’ve ever spent with you is [indecipherable]. You’re impossible! You’re thick! Uncaring! Cruel! My life here is suffering and now you make me the fool? To my father, to the court, and to myself! I’m the fool! You know, it was better when I thought you were gay; I thought “Well, at least it’s not my fault” but now I know, “No, it is my fault!” You turned down marrying me once before, why did you have to say yes this time? I was engaged to Louis XIV! I could’ve been in Versailles, in the most beautiful place on Earth and I would’ve been happy– no, I would be happy! And I would be liked and my family would love me and I would’ve done everything right, but then you came along! And ruined it! And everything! And me! And– this isn’t right! No! This is not how this was supposed to go! It was supposed to be me and Louis and it would’ve been right and normal and then I would be normal and happy and I don’t know– I don’t know why you had to say yes this time! Louis– Louis– Louis is– Louis– Louis– Louis– Louis– Louis– Louis– Louis’ the king! Right? Right? And he’s beautiful! I assume. I’ve seen the portraits– which are rarely accurate– but I’ve always wanted to marry him! Well, I was always supposed to marry him– but at least he’s nice! Yes, I’ve not met him, but at least I’ve heard that he’s ni– well, I guess I’ve actually not heard anything, but I was alway supposed to ma– Well, I guess I always– Okay, well, I guess I’ve never really actually thought about it! Well, I guess I never actually like Louis, or men… Men in general. I mean, I write to a woman who I call my husband, and I’ve always had a crush on her, but she’s not very nice to me, and she writes to my sister more than she writes to me, AND I DON’T KNOW IF I’M A LESBIAN, OKAY?! I don’t like men! But I don’t know if I like women either– historically speaking, there’s some things we just can’t know about me, okay, historically speaking– but personally speaking, you know what? I’M FIFTEEN YEARS OLD!! How am I supposed to know?! You know what? No! I didn’t want to marry Louis, now that I think about it, because, well, I never actually thought about it because, well, I’M NEVER SUPPOSED TO THINK! But I am gonna think! Like you said, we’re just first citizens here, right? So I’m allowed to think! So I’m gonna think! So I’m gonna think! Right, let me think! …Okay. I have something to say. I’m fifteen years old, William. Do you have any idea how scary this is? Leaving my country, marrying you, a stranger, I… I don’t speak the language, I don’t have any friends, and you, my husband, are still a stranger. You don’t have to love me. You don’t have to like me. But please don’t be cruel to me. I… I do not know how much… more a fifteen year old girl can take.

William: …Betty’s a spy. Before I married you, I had asked her to inform me about you.

Mary: Yeah, a spy, that’s the best you could come up with–

William: It’s true.

Mary: Yes, my lady-in-waiting is a spy! …Well, what did Betty the spy say?

William: She said you weren’t like your family.

Mary: Well, I tried to be like them.

William: I never tried.

Mary: Well, I think that makes you honest.

William: But not liked.

Mary: Well, they don’t like either of us. We share that at least.

William: I need to say something.

Mary: Okay! Good! Yeah! Okay! I’m here! I can listen! …Is it a problem? Is it personal? Is it about what I think it’s about? I know what it is, William.

William: You do?

Mary: Yes. It’s about–

Mary and William: Your penis / Your father

William: Wait, what?!

Mary: What about my father?

William: He terrifies me.

Mary: Oh, yeah, me too.

William: The balance of peace in this world is a delicate thing and James isn’t.

Mary: You can talk to me about these things, William. I know who my father is, you’re not going to hurt my feelings.

William: Yes… My penis?

Mary: Oh, um, well, I mean… why haven’t we…?

William: I’m uncomfortable around–

Mary: Me.

William: …people.

Mary: Oh, yeah, well, same, haha... But, um… It’s just a job, right? We would just be… doing our… our job.

*classical music / exert of “Zadok The Priest, Hwv 258″ by the English Chamber Orchestra*

William: *panting*

Mary: I HAVE NEWS! …I’M PREGNANT!! I did it! William did it! We, um… well, obviously, we did it. Oh my God, I feel a strange thing!

William: Are you okay?!

Mary: No! Yes! No! …I feel… happy.

*cheerful folk music / “Bransle de Bourgogne” by Brisk Recorder Quartet Amsterdam*

Anne: I have news!

Mary: Hello, Anne!

Anne: Hello, Mary.

Mary: You’re pregnant?

Anne: No, Mumsy is.

Mary: She’s not our mother.

Anne: They say if it’s a boy, God has chosen to make England Catholic again, but that’s only a 50-50 chance.

Mary: No, he wouldn’t baptize him Catholic, Anne.

Anne: I wouldn’t be so sure.

Mary: But we’ve just had nine years of civil war, why would he lead us into another?

Anne: To save us from the Dutch Devil.

William: Me?

Anne: I prefer “the Dutch Abortion” but “devil” isn’t bad. Gotta go!

Mary: God be with thee, Anne.

Anne: P.S. I may be pregnant, not sure.

*cheerful folk music / “Bransle de Bourgogne” by Brisk Recorder Quartet Amsterdam*

Mary: Ohhh!

Messengers: Glorious day!

Messenger 1: Tra-la!

Messenger 2: We’ve been sent to you by your father, the king!

Messenger 1: God save him!

Messenger 2: Long may he reign!

Mary: Again, he could always just write.

Messenger 1: He has his own pregnancy to attend to.

Messenger 2: His future son!

Mary: Are you certain about that?

Messenger 1: God ordained it!

Messenger 2: A Catholic England!

Messengers: Tra-la!

Messenger 1: We’ve been sent to beseech you.

Messenger 2: Consider your child’s–

Messenger 1: Everlasting soul!

Messenger 2: Baptize your child in the Catholic faith!

Mary: *spits* …morning sickness.

Messenger 1: For your child!

Messenger 2: For your father!

Messenger 1: You must respect him!

Messenger 2: Honor him!

Messenger 1: It’s in the Bible!

Messenger 2: “Honor thy father”!

Messengers: The Fifth Commandment!

Messenger 1: Honor the king of England!

Messenger 2: God save him!

Messenger 1: Long may he reign!

Messenger 2: For England!

Messengers: Make the baby Catholic!

William: Mary?

Mary: Yes?

William: Honor is not obeying.

*cheerful folk music / “Bransle de Bourgogne” by Brisk Recorder Quartet Amsterdam*

Anne: I have news!

Mary: You’re pregnant.

Anne: Besides that, Mary, but yes.

Mary: Oh, congratulations!

Anne: Yes, same to you!

Mary: Thank you!

Anne: Thank you! I have news: people are talking about Mother’s pregnancy–

Mary: Ah, she’s not our mother.

Anne: –And they think it’s all a big fake! Everyone is saying how [video skips]

Mary: Who’s saying that?

Anne: The court, Parliament, everyone! Oh, they don’t like Papa; they say every nineteen out of twenty want him gone.

Mary: Yes, but not likely cause the king does not–

William: Mary–

Anne: Ew!

Mary: Anne!

Anne: Sorry… Hello, William… glad you got my sister pregnant. *retches*

Mary: No. No, it’s not right for me to dance… No! No, I can have this moment! I can be happy! Yeah, nothing’s gonna stop me– *claps* –from enjoying this moment! Go ahead!

*cheerful folk music / “Bransle de Bourgogne” by Brisk Recorder Quartet Amsterdam*

Monmouth: Ah! I thank you for the generosity both you and William have shown me over the last undetermined period of time, but I must leave.

William: Oh, where’re you going? I was going to plan another hunt.

Monmouth: There comes a time in every mans life where the cruel, [indecipherable] eye of destiny looks upon him! The hero of every story has his moment of action! [indecipherable] standing on the precipice of glory to see the apotheosis of my journey’s end on that glorious mountain green! Today I sail! This story shall no longer wander unguided like an orphan clinging from one vague historical anecdote to another! No! Search no longer, poor play, for you have found your hero! And that hero… it’s me. Someone has to save our England! I have a mighty army of almost one hundred men! Eighty two to be exact!

Mary: Wait, with eighty two men you’re planning to–

Monmouth: Invade England, seize the crown, depose your father, my uncle, and save England from Catholic *spits* tyranny?

Mary: You’re planning on doing this with…

Monmouth: Eighty two men! Historically, this is what I did, so yah. [indecipherable] sweet cousin, it will be a Protestant England! ALL HAIL KING BASTARD THE FIRST! CHA-CHAH! Ah! He-yaaaaaaaaaaaa!!

Mary: Eighty two men can’t overthrow the king of England!

William: He’s hoping the people will rise.

Mary: What would they do to father?

William: Kill him.

Mary: Ah! Ah!

William: Okay, okay, okay! The Bastard doesn’t have any support, your father will be fine! You can have this moment; you deserve to be happy.

Mary: How? I may not like my family, but I love them. Yes, I-I deserve to be happy, but Father doesn’t deserve to die!

William: He won’t, he’ll be fine!

Mary: You can’t know that for sure.

William: I do! …I-I promise you– I-I… I promise on the life of our child that nothing will happen to your father. I’ll see to it.

Mary: You will?

William: Mmhm.

Mary: …Okay… Okay, yes, okay… I’m happy.

William: Rest. Nurse? Take my wife to her bedchamber. Make sure she doesn’t want for anything.

Mary: Ooo!

William: [indecipherable]. James?

*evil music / exert of “Allegro” by Marco Rosano*

James: James?! Use my full title!

William: I have grave news.

James: Oh, has France invaded you again?

William: Your nephew, the Duke of Monmouth–

James: Who?

William: …The Bastard.

James: Oh, why didn’t you say?! How is the lad?

William: He’s leading an army to depose you and take the crown for himself.

James: *laughs* You’re having a laugh! …Shit! How dare he! Doesn’t he know who I am?! I’m the king! I’m very well respected and loved– everybody loves me! *gasps* Why doesn’t he love me?! Oh, he’s just a little shit bastard, I’ll crush him! How dare he not see how awesome I am! How powerful and strong and– oh! I am so mad right now! It was a good day too, it was going really well, I had just finished telling the queen “I’m gonna make it a good one today, you know!” Ugh, I am so mad right now I’m literally shaking! *gasps* I need to eat something!

William: I hope you now see that our relationship is very…

*execution drums / exert from “March to the Scaffold” by Paul Edward*

Headsman: *giggling* For your crimes against the crown, you are sentenced to death!

James: Say hello to your father for me, boy. Any last words?

Monmouth: Fuck off!

James: How dare you! Kill the bastard!

Headsman: God save the king!

James: No one questions my authority!

Monmouth: Piss off!

James: Bastard?!

Monmouth: I have still a few [indecipherable]

James: How dare you! [indecipherable]

Headsman: Thank you. One more!

James: Who’s the douchebag now, huh?

Monmouth: You are!

James: Bastard! [indecipherable] I am not a douchebag, I am the king of England!

Monmouth: Douche of England more like it!

James: Cut off his head!

Headsman: [indecipherable] does anyone want to take over, huh?

Monmouth: It takes– ugh! –and this is all true– ugh! –five blows! Ugh! King Douche II! Ugh– *splutters*

James: Who’s the douchebag now, huh? Not me. I am not a douche! You hear me, Bastard?! I am not a douche! You hear me, England? I am not a douche! I am King James II! Not King Douche II! King James II! Charles didn’t respect me, and you, you didn’t respect me, but my people will. OR I’LL FUCKING MAKE THEM! They will fucking tremble in love and adoration– ohh! I want hundreds to pay for this bastard’s actions! I don’t care who they were, if they even so much as saw him walk by, they are to be executed. Churchyard trees are to be littered with corpses, the military men will be order to play in time with the twitching of their feet! And if you think that this is too much, too cruel, I’ll remind you: One, I am just being historically accurate, and two, I am the goddamn motherfucking King of England! William!

William: …your majesty.

James: Oh, I couldn’t’ve done it without you! …But I know what this is. Scared to lose a few more windmills to Louis, huh? What, you thought that you could bribe me with this little quid-pro-quo?

William: I didn’t do it for you, I did it for Mary.

James: Mary? Don’t you dare bring my daughter into this. What? You thought that I was so stupid that little nugget of information would have me on all-fours like a whipped bitch begging to do you any favor you asked? No! That little shit was nothing! I could have fought him off while wiping my ass! I owe you nothing! France may be at your borders, but England could join them just as easily! God knows Louis and I talk about it. *laughs* Tip-toe around me, William. Now, I’d like to speak to my daughter. Now!

William: Mary, could you come here, please? I have a letter for you from your father.

Mary: He’s safe! Thank you, William!

James: Mary, my eldest daughter! *laughs* You know, I fought your uncle Charles about you having to marry that–

Mary: [indecipherable] William’s wonderful, actually. Yes, I–I miss my home very much, but Holland, it’s very, very clean.

James: [indecipherable] they tell me you’re considering a Catholic baptism.

Mary: Oh, no I’m not, Father.

James: You have a responsibility to me, Mary. Biblically, I am your father and you must honor me.

Mary: Well– I do honor you.

James: Then you must obey me.

Mary: Well, honor is not obeying.

James: From King Douche II to you now?

Mary: King Douche?

James: How dare you! I am very [indecipherable] you talk back to me. I am your father and you must honor me!

Mary: Enough of this.

James: You will make the child Catholic!

Mary: Stop!

James: We all know you have no choice. You’re a prisoner.

Mary: Please…

James: [indecipherable], Mary, there’s hope in the distance!

Mary: What are you suggesting?

James: Just because you… lie with the Dutch Dog doesn’t mean you need to get its flees.

Mary: He’s my husband!

James: *laughs* William isn’t long for this world.

Mary: What are you planning?

James: Oh, come now!

Mary: What are you plann– ah! Ah!

James: *laughs* You look like him. Can’t even walk without wheezing, spits blood; your time in the tower is almost over, Mary.

Mary: He is the father of my child. William, could you come here, please?

James: *scoffs* Is he the father? Last I heard, he couldn’t perform.

Mary: You’re one to talk!

James: My performance isn’t to be questioned!

Mary: I know the rumors of the queen’s great belly!

James: [indecipherable] rumors: just a few!

Mary: Nineteen out of twenty! That’s what– ah! Ah!

James: Make the child Catholic!

Mary: *spits*

James: Your mother–

Mary: She’s not my mother!

James: No, your real mother! Remember the day she died?

Mary: Please, Father, I’m in pain! I don’t want–

James: The day she died the priest came to administer her last rites, to cleanse her soul. Without it, your mother would be damned for all eternity! Her skin would scorch, blisters would form– weeping blisters!

Mary: *voice breaking* …William?

James: A priest came… and she refused him.

Mary: William! …That’s a lie!

James: After my counseling she refused the Protestant priest. The Catholic bishop was called in and all was confessed. So, in your philosophy, Mary, is it your mother or your child who’s damned to unfathomable pain and suffering? Which is the one true faith? If you baptize that child Protestant, it means you believe it’s your mother suffering, right now as we speak. Have you ever considered hellfire, Mary? *laughs* It’s something to think about. Oh! Your new mummy’s in labour now. Got to run.

Anne: Mary– and William *scoffs*– the queen’s had a baby. It’s a boy. They’ve baptized him Catholic *spits* toldja so. But there’s something else. I have some gossip! All of London– they think it’s a changeling! They think it’s not a real child. They think she snuck a child into her bed to pass off as our brother! Oh! Papa’s going mad. Something’s going to happen. Something bad.

William: May I see it?

Betty: There’s nothing to see. ...You should go to her, William.

*dramatic music / exert from “2020” by SUUNS*

♪ And what you see is really what you see ♪ ♪ What you, what you, what you, what you ♪ ♪ Do what you please, the thing what you see ♪ ♪ What you, what you, what you, what you ♪ ♪ And what you see you feel ♪ ♪ Coming real, take your way ♪ ♪ All through the way… ♪

~ Intermission ~

*guitar strumming*

Chorus: ♪ Good fortune [indecipherable] William and Mary [indecipherable]-tend ♪ ♪ May glories increase and their lives never end ♪ ♪ [indecipherable] daily successes our nation may find ♪ ♪ For England [indecipherable] they both are designed ♪

Mary: William?

William: Huh?

Mary: Why is there a Greek chorus?

William: [indecipherable] chorus now.

Mary: Yes, why?

Chorus: ♪ Over the hills and it must be done ♪ ♪ To England, Glorious Revolution! ♪ ♪ William commands and we will obey ♪ ♪ Over the hills and far away ♪

Mary: Shoot, shoot, shoot! What story with a Greek chorus ends well?!

William: It’s just a device, Mary, it doesn’t mean–

Mary: The letter! They’re here because of the letter!

William: We received a letter?

Mary: From England. They call themselves–

Chorus: ♪ THE IMMORTAL SEVEN! ♪

Mary and William: The Immortal Seven.

Mary: Parliament has invited us to England.

William: They’ve invited us to invade England.

Mary: Why would they do that?

William: I don’t know.

Mary: We can’t invade!

Chorus: ♪ Invade you must, there’s no time to waste ♪ ♪ James is a monster! Our country defaced ♪ ♪ Blood in the streets and corpses in trees ♪ ♪ Come and put our minds at ease ♪

William: Your father is in talks to invade with Louis. Where? Here! He’s–he’s had his boy and he’s baptized him Catholic and all of England is on the brink of Civil War again!

Mary: What does that have to do with us?

William: Um, well… They want us to depose your father.

Mary: It has to be us?

William: I don’t see another alternative.

Mary: Shoot, shoot, shoot! Is it right?

William: Right? We–we save England, we save the Netherlands, we keep Europe in balance– yes.

Mary: But is it right for a daughter to depose her father? It’s the Fifth Commandment, right? “Honor thy father!”

William: He doesn’t need to die.

Mary: Well, I know my history, William! You only depose a king by killing him. How many former kings do you see walking around?! But… He can’t invade Holland! It’s your country and you care so much for it and the people and it’s so very, very clean– Okay, yes! We should do this. But we have to do it a different way. No blood. No killing. If it’s an invasion, it has to be a bloodless invasion!

William: I don’t know…

Mary: Can you try?

William: Invade one of the most powerful countries in the world, other-throw its king, and not hurt anyone in the process?

Mary: Please?

William: …Ja.

Chorus: *gasps* ♪ What’s that you say? ♪ ♪ We prick up our ears ♪ ♪ [indecipherable] you come ♪ ♪ To end all our fears ♪ ♪ Think of what you both could be ♪ ♪ You’ll go down in history! ♪

Mary: We could, couldn’t we! Imagine all that “First Citizen” stuff here in the Netherlands– we could do that in England! You could bring all of your wonderful ideas to my country! Imagine: Freedom of religion!

William: Freedom of the press!

Mary: And no more torturing! Or bloody pomp and circumstance! And we do it bloodless! We ride into England and the people will rise with us and father will say “Oh wow, that’s what the people want!” And it’ll all work out [indecipherable] Why shouldn’t we be king and queen?! Neither one of us want the damn job so we’re the ones who should have it…

William: Would I be king?

Mary: Yes.

William: Who would you be?

Mary: The queen.

William: Right, but who’s the one in charge?

Mary: …Oh.

William: It would be you, you’re first in line.

Mary: Oh, me? No.

Chorus: *murmuring in agreement*

Mary: No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! I’d rather not.

William: It’s not up to you, you’re first in line.

Mary: Ah, but you! You–you are after me!

William: Right, but you still come first.

Mary: But I don’t want to be queen– okay, wait, wait! Let me think… Okay, solution. ….We’ll… both be king and queen!

William: It does not work that way.

Mary: [spluttering] Listen! We go to England; you raise an army and depose– aw– depose father and then we say “Alright! We’re both king and queen!” What’re they gonna do, say no?

William: Joint monarchs– it would be a first.

Mary: [indecipherable] I don’t know if it’s right. God says to honor thy father, but… that doesn’t feel right.

William: We can say no, Mary.

Mary: No… You okay?

Anne: Yes, quite, sister.

Mary: Okay, good.

Anne: Stop staring at me!

Mary: Let’s keep going. And my heart says to bother you.

William: Your heart says that? What do we want to do?

Chorus: ♪ To England, to England! We sail, we sail! To England, to England! At last, at last! A tempest, a tempest! Begins, begins! And [indecipherable], and [indecipherable]! [indecipherable], [indecipherable]! ♪

Soloist: ♪ To England, we sail / [indecipherable] / [indecipherable] / [indecipherable] ♪

Chorus: ♪ The men are afraid ♪ ♪ There’s no debate ♪ ♪ Revolution now must wait ♪

*storm sounds*

Mary: Ahh!

William: THEY’RE CALLING IT THE CATHOLIC WIND! WE CANNOT SAIL FOR ENGLAND UNTIL IT PASSES! WE’VE ALREADY LOST A THOUSAND HORSES! WE HAVE FORTY THOUSAND MEN WAITING TO INVADE– BUT THIS WIND!!

Mary: There have been so many omens! This wind; the miscarriage! Is it a sign from God?! Can a daughter who deposes her father be a Christian?! Can doing what’s right and God’s will be at odds?!

William: WHAT?!

Mary: CAN DOING WHAT’S RIGHT AND GOD’S WILL BE AT ODDS?!

William: Oh, it is over.

Chorus: ♪ [indecipherable] ♪ ♪ William and Mary, our God has ordained ♪ ♪ Rex and Regina, this we say ♪ ♪ Sail on the future king’s birthday ♪

Mary: Wait, really?

William: Ja. It’s my birthday. The fourth. Historically, that’s just how it happened to work out.

Mary: Oh! Well, that’s a good omen, right? Happy birthday to you!

William: Yes.

Mary: William, wait! Look… I respect you. And, under normal circumstances, I would never breach this, um, unspoken agreement, but, um, it’s his birthday– ah, could we– um, uh– you know– could we do just one round of “Happy Birthday”? Um, what’s a good starting note? *hums* Is that good? *hums* Ready?

Mary, chorus, and audience: ♪ Happy birthday to you! ♪ ♪ Happy birthday to you! ♪ ♪ Happy birthday dear William! ♪ ♪ Happy birthday to your! ♪

*cheering*

William: This is the greatest birthday present I’ve ever received. Thank you.

Chorus: ♪ William has come and we will defend ♪ ♪ To kick out the tyrant and and then will ascend ♪ ♪ His first steps on English soil ♪ ♪ Defender of faith and [indecipherable] ♪

William: Hello? Where the hell is everyone?

Peasant: *screams* Oh, it’s [indecipherable] Day. Everyone’s busy catching cats.

William: Ah. Well, um, I am William of Orange, Defender of the Faith and– wait, why are you catching cats?

Peasant: To [indecipherable] the pope.

William: Ah. Well, I am William of Orange, Defende– the pope?

Peasant: *sighs* Not the real one sadly, but yeah. [indecipherable] cats and set them on fire.

William: Why you do this?

Peasant: For God! It’s tradition! …You’re not from around here are ya, foreigner!

Chorus: ♪ Over the hills and it must be done ♪ ♪ To England, Glorious Revolu– ♪

Peasant: [indecipherable] you are making such a racket!

William: I am William of Orange, Defender of the Faith!

*cat screeches*

Peasant: [indecipherable] you scared the cat!

William: Good woman, have you not heard of our coming?

Peasant: …[indecipherable] in England?

William: I–

Peasant: [indecipherable] and whip em til their backs be bloody!! Ngyeehhhhhhhhh!!

William: *screams* I AM WILLIAM OF ORANGE! I COME FROM THE HAGUE BY INVITATION OF PARLIAMENT! Good lady! We come to overthrow King James II.

Peasant: *spits*

William: Progress. I am the [indecipherable]’s husband and myself, third in line. We come to bring stability and religious… freedom to this… country.

Peasant: Oh, you and what army?

Chorus: ♪ We are [indecipherable] ♪ ♪ Join is so you [indecipherable] ♪ ♪ [indecipherable] ♪ ♪ James will soon be overthrown ♪

Peasant: Oh, [indecipherable], sir! I don’t have anything of worth but… I’d be proud to give you my cats.

William: *coughs*

Peasant: Oh, must be the cat smoke.

William: Oh, this air is filthy. I need a little rest.

Messenger: ♪ One man tried to poison your food ♪

Anne: ♪ Some with bullets [indecipherable] ♪

Chorus: ♪ Mostly [indecipherable] ready to fight ♪

Charles: ♪ [indecipherable] horse was white! ♪

William: Let us move forward!

James: William! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!

Chorus: ♪ James was appalled by the sight that he saw ♪

James: ♪ I’ll have your head, boy, remember [indecipherable]! ♪

Chorus: ♪ Soon his generals started to fall ♪

James: ♪ Troops, make an example of him! ♪

Chorus: ♪ James’ troops then began to abandon ♪ ♪ Our glorious William now [indecipherable] ♪

James: Did you not all swear your loyalty?! You are all my subjects! *gaps* Mary! Ungrateful daughter! You must swear your loyalty to your father! It is God’s will! The Fifth Commandment! Consider the hell– *splutters* What the hell? Anne, Messenger, and Monmouth: ♪ Blood from his nose ♪ ♪ [indecipherable] to God ♪ ♪ James was denied ♪ ♪ His royal throne ♪

James: No! No! What the hell?! *spluttering* The Fifth Commandment– shit! This is terribly inconvenient

Anne, Messenger, and Monmouth: ♪ To James [indecipherable] ♪ ♪ His nose really bled ♪

James: WAIT, WHAT?!!

Anne, Messenger, and Monmouth: ♪ To France, King James ♪ ♪ Finally fleeeeeeeeeeee– ♪

James: STOP SINGING!

Anne, Messenger, and Monmouth: ♪ –eeeeeeeedddddd ♪

James: What, is this really historically accurate?! You’re just gonna let me go, William?! HA! Coward! I will return, William, I promise you that! Mary! Ungrateful daughter! You will suffer the fait of an unfaithful daughter. This is not how my story was… suppose to be told… To France.

Chorus: ♪ William has won now that James has fled ♪

William: *prolonged violent coughing*

Chorus: ♪ London is happy! ♪ ♪ With bonfires lit ♪ ♪ Willy’s lungs can’t take the smoke ♪ ♪ And all the fog just made him choke ♪ ♪ Over the hills and it must be done ♪ ♪ To England, Glorious Revolution! ♪ ♪ William commanded and now we’ve won ♪ ♪ Our new day begins with the rising of the sun! ♪ ♪ Of the sun! ♪

William: *groaning, gasping for breath*

#redlady speaks #it takes. a really long time to transcribe something #history brainrot #william iii #mary ii #the glorious revolution #charles ii #james ii #queen anne #the stuarts

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thebritishmonarchycouk · 5 years ago

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On This Day In Royal History . 29 May 1630 . King Charles II was born . . ◼ Charles was born in St James’s Palace on 29 May 1630. His parents were Charles I, who ruled the three kingdoms of England, Scotland, and Ireland, and Henrietta Maria, the sister of the French king Louis XIII. Charles was their second son and child. Their first son, who was born about a year before Charles, had died aged less than a day. . ◼ Charles was baptised in the Chapel Royal on 27 June by the Anglican Bishop of London William Laud and brought up in the care of the Protestant Countess of Dorset, though his godparents included his maternal uncle and grandmother, Marie de’ Medici, both of whom were Catholics. . ◼ At birth, Charles automatically became Duke of Cornwall and Duke of Rothesay, along with several other associated titles. At or around his eighth birthday, he was designated Prince of Wales, though he was never formally invested with the Honours of the Principality of Wales. . 👑 Charles was king of England, Scotland & Ireland. He was king of Scotland from 1649 until his deposition in 1651, & king of England, Scotland & Ireland from the restoration of the monarchy in 1660 until his death in 1685. . . . #OnThisDayInHistory #ThisDayInHistory #TheYear1630 #CharlesII #KingCharlesII #CharlesIIofEngland #KingofEngland #HouseofStuart #Stuart #Stuarts #HisMajesty #RoyaltyinArt #BritishMonarchy #GodSaveTheKing #d29may #Royalhistory #StJamesPalace #Merrymonarch #monarch #Theking #CharlesI #RoyalHistory #OnThisDay #otd #KingCharlesI #historyfacts #EnglishMonarchy #Art #Portrait #portraitpainting (at St James’s Palace) https://www.instagram.com/p/CAyH9QDjMmh/?igshid=4ruhib1crydw

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steliosagapitos · 6 years ago

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Biltmore Estate

Biltmore Estate is a historic house museum and tourist attraction in Asheville, North Carolina. Biltmore House, the main residence, is a Châteauesque-style mansion built for George Washington Vanderbilt II between 1889 and 1895 and is the largest privately owned house in the United States, at 178,926 square feet (16,622.8 m2) of floor space (135,280 square feet of living area). Still owned by George Vanderbilt's descendants, it remains one of the most prominent examples of Gilded Age mansions.

In the 1880s, at the height of the Gilded Age, George Washington Vanderbilt II began to make regular visits with his mother, Maria Louisa Kissam Vanderbilt, to the Asheville area. He loved the scenery and climate so much that he decided to build his own summer house in the area, which he called his "little mountain escape". His older brothers and sisters had built luxurious summer houses in places such as Newport, Rhode Island, and Hyde Park, New York. Vanderbilt named his estate Biltmore, derived from "De Bilt", Vanderbilt's ancestors' place of origin in the Netherlands, and "More", Anglo-Saxon for open, rolling land. Vanderbilt bought almost 700 parcels of land, including over 50 farms and at least five cemeteries; a portion of the estate was once the community of Shiloh. A spokesperson for the estate said in 2017 that archives show much of the land "was in very poor condition, and many of the farmers and other landowners were glad to sell."

Construction of the house began in 1889. In order to facilitate such a large project, a woodworking factory and brick kiln, which produced 32,000 bricks a day, were built onsite, and a three-mile railroad spur was constructed to bring materials to the building site. Construction on the main house required the labor of about 1,000 workers and 60 stonemasons. Vanderbilt went on extensive trips overseas to purchase decor as construction on the house was in progress. He returned to North Carolina with thousands of furnishings for his newly built home including tapestries, hundreds of carpets, prints, linens, and decorative objects, all dating between the 15th century and the late 19th century. Among the few American-made items were the more practical oak drop-front desk, rocking chairs, a walnut grand piano, bronze candlesticks and a wicker wastebasket.

George Vanderbilt opened his opulent estate on Christmas Eve of 1895 to invited family and friends from across the country, who were encouraged to enjoy leisure and country pursuits. Notable guests to the estate over the years included author Edith Wharton, novelist Henry James, ambassadors Joseph Hodges Choate and Larz Anderson, and U. S. Presidents. George married Edith Stuyvesant Dresser in 1898 in Paris, France; their only child, Cornelia Stuyvesant Vanderbilt, was born at Biltmore in the Louis XV room in 1900, and grew up at the estate.

Driven by the impact of the newly imposed income taxes, and the fact that the estate was getting harder to manage economically, Vanderbilt initiated the sale of 87,000 acres (35,000 ha) to the federal government. After Vanderbilt's unexpected death in 1914 of complications from an emergency appendectomy, his widow completed the sale to carry out her husband's wish that the land remain unaltered, and that property became the nucleus of the Pisgah National Forest.[6] Overwhelmed with running such a large estate, Edith began consolidating her interests and sold Biltmore Estate Industries in 1917 and Biltmore Village in 1921. Edith intermittently occupied the house, living in an apartment carved out of the former Bachelors' Wing, until the marriage of her daughter to John Francis Amherst Cecil in April 1924. The Cecils went on to have two sons who were born in the same room as their mother.

In an attempt to bolster the estate's financial situation during the Great Depression, Cornelia and her husband opened Biltmore to the public in March 1930 at the request of the City of Asheville, which hoped the attraction would revitalize the area with tourism. Biltmore closed during World War II and in 1942, 62 paintings and 17 sculptures were moved to the estate by train from the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C. to protect them in the event of an attack on the United States. The Music Room on the first floor was never finished, so it was used for storage until 1944, when the possibility of an attack became more remote. Among the works stored were the Gilbert Stuart portrait of George Washington and works by Rembrandt, Raphael, and Anthony van Dyck. David Finley, the gallery director, was a friend of Edith Vanderbilt and had stayed at the estate.

After the divorce of the Cecils in 1934, Cornelia left the estate never to return; however, John Cecil maintained his residence in the Bachelors' Wing until his death in 1954. Their eldest son, George Henry Vanderbilt Cecil, occupied rooms in the wing until 1956. At that point Biltmore House ceased to be a family residence and continued to be operated as a historic house museum.

Their younger son William A. V. Cecil, Sr. returned to the estate in the late 1950s and joined his brother to manage the estate when it was in financial trouble and make it a profitable and self-sustaining enterprise like his grandfather envisioned. He eventually inherited the estate upon the death of his mother, Cornelia, in 1976, while his brother, George, inherited the then more profitable dairy farm which was split off into Biltmore Farms. In 1995, while celebrating the 100th anniversary of the estate, Cecil turned over control of the company to his son, William A. V. Cecil, Jr. The Biltmore Company is privately held. Of the 4,306.86 acres that make up Biltmore Estate, only 1.36 acres are in the city limits of Asheville, and the Biltmore House is not part of any municipality.

The estate was designated a National Historic Landmark in 1963, and remains a major tourist attraction in Western North Carolina, with 1.4 million visitors each year.

After the death of William A. V. Cecil in October 2017 and his wife Mimi Cecil in November, their daughter Dini Pickering is serving as board chair and their son Bill Cecil as CEO. The house is assessed at $157.2 million, although due to an agricultural deferment, county property taxes are paid on only $79.1 million of that.

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gendercop3blog · 6 years ago

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Tyler and Taylor

Tyler and Taylor work so well together with not one dominating over the other. i wanted them both to look like a couple. Both wearing effeminate clothing and in adoring poses.

im glad that i switched up the positioning of both boys within this shoot as i think Taylor -in the purple shirt- comes across as more effeminate and i wanted both to look like new age men without one being more dominant or possessive over the other.

Contact sheet of images / selected images

Here is a video explaining why i edited and composed these images the way i did...

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Recreating Royal Photographs

After having crit with Liam and talking about these photographs it was clear the images has a regal, renaconce feel to them with the male dominating the female in the oil paintings, as talked about in the picture editing video above.

i decided to edit these pictures with a frame found on google images. i then put the landscape image by ‘Thomas Moran, Autumn landscape painting’ and as the portrait backgournd i used ‘Gerard van Honthorst: Portrait of William II, Prince of Orange, and his wife Maria Henriëtte Stuart (1647)’.

i wanted to play on the idea of defying masculin steriotypes imposed throught the ages by using both male figures in this way

Image analysis

Gerard van Honthorst: Portrait of William II, Prince of Orange, and his wife Maria Henriëtte Stuart (1647)

This image showcases both a masculine and feminine presence during the renascence era. In old oil paintings from this time, the male was often made to look strong and heroic whilst dressed in their armour/ wielding a sword. Whilst the female was made to look whimsical and weak in comparison to the male. Often doting by his side and looking off to the side of the image. Therefore, not engaging with the audience and allowing the male to dominate the image.

By using both males in my images I am altering the stereotypical gender portrayal from images of this time. Using styling and poses I have recreated two strong masculine figures that have equal rolls in the story/image.

In medeval times homosexuality was punishable by death, it was not until 1967 that being homosexual was actually legalised so two men being in this painting as an affectionate couple is redefining old masculinity stereotypes in a modern perspective.

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harryandmeghan0-blog · 6 years ago

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7 royal babies who were once seventh in line to the throne

New Post has been published on https://harryandmeghan.xyz/7-royal-babies-who-were-once-seventh-in-line-to-the-throne/

7 royal babies who were once seventh in line to the throne

Earlier this month, it was announced that Prince Harry and Meghan, the Duchess of Sussex, are expecting a baby in spring 2019 – and the new arrival will be seventh in line to the British throne. Which other royals in history have been seventh in line? Writing for History Extra, Carolyn Harris shares seven other royals who found themselves in the same spot…

October 26, 2018 at 9:35 am

On 15 October, Kensington Palace announced that Meghan, the Duchess of Sussex is expecting a baby in the spring of 2019. The royal baby will be seventh in line to the throne after the Prince of Wales; Prince William the Duke of Cambridge; Prince George; Princess Charlotte; Prince Louis and Prince Harry himself.

Over the centuries, royal children born seventh in line to the throne have often enjoyed a balance between public and private life, experiencing close connections to their reigning relatives but also opportunities to pursue independent careers and interests. In the 18th and 19th centuries, however, there were sometimes opportunities for a prince or princess who was seventh in line to the British throne, or even further down the line of succession, to become a king or queen elsewhere in Europe. Here are seven royal babies who were seventh in line to the throne when they were born, from the 17th century to the present day.

Prince Harry, Duke of Sussex and Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, photographed during their 2018 tour of Australia, Fiji, Tonga and New Zealand. (Photo by Chris Jackson/Getty Images)

Prince John Philip Frederick of the Palatinate (26 September 1627 – 16 February 1650)

In 1627, King Charles I of England and Scotland had been married to Princess Henrietta Maria of France for two years. Henrietta Maria had been just 15 at the time of the wedding in 1625 and would not give birth to a living child, the future King Charles II, until 1630.

For English Protestants, however, the succession was already secure in the person of Charles I’s sister, the former Queen Elizabeth of Bohemia, and her children. While Henrietta Maria was a Roman Catholic and guaranteed control over her children’s education according to the terms of her marriage contract, Elizabeth was considered to be a Protestant heroine. Her husband, Frederick V, Elector Palatine, had accepted the crown of Bohemia as the request of the predominantly Protestant population of Prague in 1619. Frederick and Elizabeth spent a single winter as king and queen of Bohemia before Frederick was defeated by the Roman Catholic Holy Roman Emperor Ferdinand II at the battle of White Mountain in 1620 and the family sought refuge in the Hague. Elizabeth and her family were included in English prayers for the royal family and their large number of children seemed to guarantee a stable Protestant succession in the event that Charles I and Henrietta Maria were childless.

Elizabeth Stuart, once queen of Bohemia, c1613. Elizabeth was considered to be a Protestant heroine, says Carolyn Harris. (Photo by VCG Wilson/Corbis via Getty Images)

On 16 September 1627, Elizabeth gave birth to her tenth child and sixth surviving son, John Philip Frederick. The new baby, seventh in line to the English and Scottish thrones, spent his early childhood in Leiden before being sent to the French court for his education, along with his elder brother Edward. While John Philip’s eldest brothers, Charles Louis, Rupert and Maurice, sought their fortune at the court of King Charles I, John Philip became involved in a scandal following his return to the Hague.

In 1646, John Philip killed an exiled French colonel, Jacques de l’Epinay, in a duel. The colonel had boasted that he had enjoyed the favours of John Philip’s mother, Elizabeth, and one of his sisters, the portrait artist Louise Hollandine. These claims outraged the young prince. Wanted by the Dutch authorities after the duel, John Philip fled the Netherlands and became a mercenary in the service of the Duke of Lorraine, where he was killed during the Fronde rebellion in France in 1650.

The descendants of Elizabeth of Bohemia ultimately ensured Protestant succession for the British royal family, as the English Protestants of Charles I’s reign had hoped. In 1701, the Act of Settlement decreed that the succession would be restricted to the Protestant descendants of John Philip’s younger sister, Sophia of Hanover. Sophia’s son, George I, succeeded to the British throne in 1714.

Princess Mary of Great Britain (5 March 1723 – 14 January 1772)

Mary was born in the reign of her grandfather, King George I. She was the sixth surviving child of the future king George II and his queen, Caroline of Ansbach and seventh in line to the throne after her father and five elder siblings. Mary was a voracious reader and described as “tall, and handsome enough to be a painter’s model”.

On 8 May 1740, Mary was married by proxy to the future Frederick II, Landgrave of Hesse-Kassel, in the Chapel Royal at St James’s Palace London. She did not meet her new husband until the following month.

Princess Mary of Great Britain was the sixth surviving child of the future king George II and his queen, Caroline of Ansbach and seventh in line to the throne. (Public domain)

Although Frederick proved a useful ally to Great Britain, providing Hessian soldiers to fight for the British during the American Revolution, Frederick and Mary’s marriage was an unhappy one. Described by Horace Walpole as “obstinate, of no genius” and “brutal”, Frederick was abusive toward Mary. She spent extended periods of time in Britain to escape her husband. After Frederick’s conversion to Catholicism became public in 1754, Mary achieved a permanent separation. Mary’s father-in-law provided her with a residence in Hanau where she raised her three sons.

After the death of her younger sister, Louisa, from pregnancy complications in 1751, Mary took a strong interest in the upbringing of Louisa’s four children from her marriage to King Frederik V of Denmark: three daughters and one son who survived infancy. Mary also corresponded with her relatives in Britain, maintaining the connections between the various branches of King George II’s descendants.

Louisa’s son King Christian VII married his cousin, Princess Caroline Matilda of Great Britain, who was a sister of King George III. The marriage of Caroline Matilda and the mentally unstable Christian VII was deeply unhappy. Caroline Matilda wrote to her aunt Mary: “I am amazed at the King’s torpor and insensibility,” and complained that she was badly treated by her mother-in-law. Mary expressed great concern for her niece but was unwilling to become involved in conflicts within the Danish royal family. Caroline Matilda pursued a disastrous affair with the court doctor Johan Struensee, circumstances that inspired the 2012 Danish film A Royal Affair.

Mary died at Hanau in 1772. Her descendants included Alexandra of Denmark and Mary of Teck, the queens consort of King Edward VII and King George V respectively. Princess Mary of Great Britain, once seventh in line to the throne, is therefore an ancestor of Queen Elizabeth II.

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Prince Adolphus, Duke of Cambridge (24 February 1774 – 8 July 1850)

The seventh in line to the throne is usually born to a junior branch of the royal family. George III and his queen Charlotte of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, however, were the parents of seven surviving sons as well as five surviving daughters. The seventh in line to throne for part of George III reign, therefore, was also a son of the reigning monarch.

As a younger son, Prince Adolphus, Duke of Cambridge was trained to represent the more senior members of his family in Hanover. (Photo by The Print Collector/Getty Images)

George III and his elder sons George IV and William IV were kings of Hanover as well as Great Britain, and as a younger son, Adolphus was trained to represent the more senior members of his family in Hanover. Adolphus attended the University of Gottingen in Hanover (which had been founded by his great-grandfather, King George II) before pursuing a military career.

From 1816 until 1837, Adolphus served as viceroy of Hanover, representing his elder brothers George IV, then William IV. His administration was effective and he was credited with helping to maintain the continued connection between the British and Hanoverian thrones. When his niece Queen Victoria succeeded to the British throne and his brother, Prince Ernest, Duke of Cumberland, became king of Hanover, Adolphus returned to Britain and devoted the rest of his life to philanthropy, becoming the president of six different hospitals. He died at his London residence and was buried at Kew, where he had spent much of his childhood.

Adolphus married Princess Augusta of Hesse-Cassel in 1818 and they had three children: Prince George, Duke of Cambridge; Princess Augusta and Princess Mary Adelaide. Despite the junior place that he occupied in the line of succession, Adolphus is an ancestor of Queen Elizabeth II: Mary Adelaide married the future Duke Francis of Teck, and their daughter Mary of Teck married the future King George V. The title of Duke of Cambridge was revived for Prince William when he married Catherine Middleton in 2011.

King George V of Hanover (27 May 1819 – 12 June 1878)

Born in Berlin just three days after his cousin, the future Queen Victoria, Prince George Frederick Alexander Charles Ernest Augustus of Cumberland was seventh in line to the British throne during the last months of his grandfather King George III’s reign. He was preceded in the line of succession by his uncles – the future King George IV, Prince Frederick Duke of York, the future King William IV, and Prince Edward– his cousin Victoria and his father Prince Ernest, Duke of Cumberland. Although Victoria’s birth meant that he was unlikely ever to become king in Britain, the succession to the Kingdom of Hanover was determined by Salic Law, which precluded women from reigning in their own right. Since 1714, the monarch of Great Britain had also been elector of Hanover, but that would change with the accession of Queen Victoria.

At the time of his birth in 1819, Prince George Frederick Alexander Charles Ernest Augustus of Cumberland was seventh in line to the British throne. (Photo by Kean Collection/Getty Images)

By 1840, George had lost his sight. When his father, the Duke of Cumberland, became king of Hanover in 1837, there were questions concerning George’s suitability as crown prince because of his blindness. But George’s family supported his succession rights and George succeeded his father as King of Hanover, Duke of Brunswick and Duke of Cumberland in 1851.

The new king was philosophical about his blindness, stating that: “eyesight was the sense that we could most easily dispense with.” However he was stubborn about his royal prerogatives and often in conflict with the Hanoverian parliament because he feared that his ministers would attempt to limit his authority. In 1866, George supported Austria against the wishes of his counsellors in the Austro-Prussian War. After Prussia won the war, George’s maternal first cousin King William I annexed Hanover and George went into exile. Following his death in Paris in 1878, his remains were sent to Britain where he was buried at George’s Chapel, Windsor, with other members of the British royal family.

The Honourable Gerald Lascelles (21 August 1924 – 27 February 1998)

King George V and Queen Mary were the parents of five children who survived adolescence: the future Kings Edward VIII and George VI; Mary, Princess Royal; Prince Henry, Duke of Gloucester and Prince George, Duke of Kent. After the First World War, George V granted permission for his children to marry into the British aristocracy, expanding the range of acceptable spouses for royalty.

The Princess Royal, the only daughter of George V, with her children the Honourable Gerald and the Honourable George Lascelles, c 1931. (Photo by Keystone/Getty Images)

In 1922, Princess Mary became the first of King George V’s children to marry, and her wedding to Henry Lascelles, the future sixth Earl of Harewood, was celebrated in the United Kingdom as the “people’s wedding”. The marriage produced two children, George and Gerald, who born sixth and seventh in line to the throne.

As the two eldest grandchildren of King George V, the births of George and Gerald Lascelles attracted widespread public attention. Postcards were printed depicting Princess Mary with her young sons. Their public prominence faded with the arrivals of royal cousins who superseded them in the line of succession, including the future Queen Elizabeth II in 1926 and Princess Margaret in 1930 (Margaret shared Gerald’s birthday).

Nevertheless, they attended royal events and their own weddings were occasions for the royal family to come together. Gerald married the actress Angela Dowding in St Margaret’s Church, Westminster, in 1952 in presence of much of his extended family. The absence of the new Queen Elizabeth II, ostensibly because of cold, however, led TIME Magazine to speculate that there had been “a royal snub” and that “cousin Gerry [was] never a royal favourite”. Gerald and Angela divorced in 1978 and Gerald remarried another actress, Elizabeth Cowling, in Vienna that same year. One son was born to each marriage.

The Honourable Gerald and the Honourable George Lascelles, the sons of Princess Mary and grandsons of George V and Queen Mary. (Photo by The Print Collector/Getty Images)

Gerald resided at Fort Belvedere, which had once been the favourite residence of his uncle, King Edward VIII. Gerald’s interests included jazz music and racecar driving. He was president of the British Racing Drivers’ Club from 1964 to 1991 and worked with music critic Eric Sinclair Traill on producing annual Just Jazz yearbooks in the 1950s. He died in France in 1998.

Prince Michael of Kent (born 4 July 1942)

Queen Elizabeth II’s cousin, Prince Michael George Charles Franklin of Kent, was born during the Second World War, the youngest child of Prince George, Duke of Kent, and Princess Marina of Greece – and a nephew of the reigning King George VI. At the time of his birth, Michael was seventh in line to the throne after his cousins, the future Queen Elizabeth II and Princess Margaret; his uncle Prince Henry, Duke of Gloucester; his cousin Prince William of Gloucester; his father Prince George, Duke of Kent, and his elder brother Edward, the present Duke of Kent.

Marina, Duchess of Kent with her three children, Prince Edward (later Duke of Kent), Princess Alexandra and Prince Michael on his first birthday, in 1943. (Photo by Central Press/Getty Images)

The circumstances of Michael’s infancy were shaped by wartime. As he was born on 4 July, Britain’s wartime ally President Franklin Roosevelt was one of the godparents, along with Queen Wilhelmina of the Netherlands, who took refuge in the UK during the German occupation of the Netherlands. The christening took place in an undisclosed chapel in the countryside for reasons of wartime security. Michael was seventh in line to the throne for just seven weeks. His father, Prince George, Duke of Kent, died in a plane crash on 25 August 1942.

Prince Michael was a pageboy at the wedding of the future Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh in 1947. Michael attended Eton and the Royal Military Academy, Sandhurst. In contrast to his siblings – Prince Edward, Duke of Kent and Princess Alexandra – Michael did not assume a full schedule of royal duties as an adult but instead pursued a military career for 20 years before opening a consultancy business. He occasionally represents the Queen on important occasions in the Commonwealth, including the coronation of King Mswati III of Swaziland and the independence celebrations in Belize.

Michael’s maternal grandmother, Grand Duchess Elena Vladimirovna of Russia was a cousin of Tsar Nicholas II, and Michael is the only member of the British royal family who speaks fluent Russian. He attended the funeral of the last tsar and his family in Saint Petersburg in 1998 and has hosted documentaries about the Romanovs.

Prince Michael of Kent marries Baroness Marie-Christine von Reibnitz in Vienna, June 1978. (Photo by John Downing/Getty Images)

In 1978, Michael married Baroness Marie Christine von Reibnitz, who was styled Princess Michael of Kent after the wedding. The royal couple resides in a ‘grace and favour’ apartment in Kensington Palace and have two children, Lord Frederick and Lady Gabriella Windsor and two grandchildren, Frederick’s daughters Maud and Isabella. Prince Michael’s marriage to a Roman Catholic removed him from the line of succession according to the terms of the 1701 Act of Settlement, though the succession reforms that came into force in the United Kingdom and Commonwealth in 2015 restored his eligibility to succeed to the throne. Having been born seventh in line to the throne, the 76-year-old Prince Michael of Kent is currently 47th in the line of succession.

Lady Sarah Chatto (born 1 May 1964)

The daughter of Princess Margaret and Antony Armstrong-Jones, Earl of Snowdon, Lady Sarah Frances Elizabeth Armstrong-Jones was born seventh in line to the throne, preceded by the Queen’s four children, her mother Margaret, and elder brother David, Viscount Linley. The same age as the Queen’s son Prince Edward, Sarah shared his early lessons in the Buckingham Palace schoolroom before attending Bedales school in Hampshire where she earned an A-level in art. Growing up, Sarah was a frequent royal bridesmaid. She was part of the wedding party when Princess Anne married Mark Phillips in 1973 and when Prince Charles married Lady Diana Spencer in 1981.

Princess Margaret with her children David Armstrong-Jones, Viscount Linley (front seat) and Lady Sarah Armstrong-Jones (now Lady Sarah Chatto), 1970. (Photo by Mike Lawn/Fox Photos/Getty Images)

Sarah studied at the Camberwell School of Art and pursued a successful career as an artist, and has also carried on some of her mother Princess Margaret’s cultural patronages including the role of vice president of the Royal Ballet.

In 1994, Sarah married Daniel Chatto. The couple have two sons, Samuel Chatto (born 1996) and Arthur Chatto (born 1999). Sarah is close to her royal relatives: the Queen invites Princess Margaret’s children and grandchildren to join the royal family for Christmas at Sandringham. She is the godmother of both Prince Harry and his cousin, Lady Louise Mountbatten-Windsor. The 54-year-old Lady Sarah is currently 23rd in line to the throne.

Dr Carolyn Harris is an instructor in history at the University of Toronto School of Continuing Studies and the author of three books: Magna Carta and Its Gifts to Canada; Queenship and Revolution in Early Modern Europe: Henrietta Maria and Marie Antoinetteand Raising Royalty: 1000 Years of Royal Parenting.

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republicstandard · 6 years ago

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From Weber to Weibo: The Relentless Creep of Bureaucratic Tyranny

A rationally ordered world has been the vision of social engineers from across the political spectrum, although most commonly from the Left. Marxists, fascists, and caliphate-builders are the extremists of orderliness, but all governments and international authorities exert regulatory control, whether perceived as benevolent or oppressive. Around the world, states are becoming more authoritarian, not less. Liberal democracies are struggling to maintain the trust of their people, following economic crises and the consequences of mass immigration, while China, Russia, and Turkey have reverted to central command. Democracy is a hindrance to master-planners.

In the early 20th century, Prussian sociologist Max Weber introduced the concept of bureaucracy, whereby organizations would be rationally-arranged systems, in which every employee had a specified role. A worker’s personal attributes were irrelevant beyond his ability to perform the prescribed job, and he could be replaced by someone else with the required skill. The bureaucratic structure looks good on paper, but in practice, it depersonalizes relationships, stifles initiative and needs overbearing governance to keep people in check. Military history has shown how a large lumbering army of a dictatorial regime can be defeated by a smaller force able to think on its feet.

The production line of FW Taylor, while making Ford the leading automobile manufacturer, was soul-destroying. Indeed, the apparent efficiency of simple and repetitive piecework was countered by the frequent interruption of strikes, which crippled the British car industry. Popular author Arthur Hailey, in Wheels, portrayed the subversive culture on a typical Detroit factory floor, where officials had limited influence on the heavily unionized workers. The Hawthorne experiments by Chicago sociologists in the 1920s showed that employees create a social environment and an informal hierarchy that differs markedly from the formal structure. Human beings refuse to be mere cogs in the wheel.

Since the late 20th century, there has been a steady decline in manual labor in the West, due to imports from countries with cheaper labor costs, outsourcing, and automation. Meanwhile more people ascended to the middle class. In Organization Man, an expose of white-collar corporate culture, William H Whyte showed how loyalty was nurtured, with a collective identity and belief that only the organization could make the right decisions. The rugged individualism associated with the American dream was ironed out. Effectively, capitalism and communism relied on the same submissiveness.

After the Second World War, western Europe flirted with socialism, many on the Left seeing the Soviet Union as a guiding light. Cradle-to-the-grave welfare was pledged by the post-war Labour government. But an all-providing state comes at the price of freedom. In her biography of Pope John Paul II, Mary Craig described Karol Wojtyla’s return to his homeland in 1948. For the Poles, liberty after the Nazi occupation was short-lived:

Poland had become a People’s Republic, the Russian ‘advisers’ were in control, and the country lay in the grip of a great Stalinist freeze. Surrounded by red flags, portraits of Stalin and Lenin, peasants were being forcibly collectivized, and while officials droned out statistics proving how prosperous the workers were under Socialism, housewives wandered disconsolately about with empty shopping baskets. The air was heavy with slogans, the mind-deadening propaganda which robbed even the simplest activity of its normal human meaning: "the train – for – Chelmno – will – leave – from – Platform – Number – Three – beware – of – bacteriological – warfare – by – the – foreign – imperialists – the train – from – Cracow – is – arriving – on – Platform – Number – Two – long – live – socialism – and – workers’ – unity."

In a Russian oblast, schools were not named (my friend Maria, for example, went to School 7 in Tambov). Names are sentimental, and of no use to logical ordering. Numbers are the currency of control, and everyone and everything is counted. The ‘nanny state’ makes selective use of data to justify action on the ‘gender pay gap’ and to impose sin taxes on alcohol or sugar. We mustn’t forget Stalin’s reputed observation that:

"the death of one man is a tragedy, but the death of a million is a statistic."

To maintain its grip, authoritarians create a surveillance society. In the Soviet Union, tens of millions of political criminals were sent to a vast Gulag Archipelago in the frozen wastelands of Karaganda and Kolyma. We are a long way from that in Britain, but consider the messages sent by police forces urging reports of online abuse. Heard several times daily by commuters, ‘see it, say it, sorted’ has a broader target than suspected jihadists. With the creep of so-called ‘hate crime’ legislation, George Orwell’s 1984 has become a manual for our leaders. This amazingly prophetic dystopia, written long before the arrival of the internet, showed how technology would be exploited to quash humanity and its messy ways.

The internet was naively celebrated as an irrepressible bastion of liberty, but it is increasingly manipulated by governments to curtail freedom of speech (often in collaboration with the tech companies, whose liberal-left political outlook has led to the censoring of conservative or libertarian opinion). Pubs close down while younger people interact via mobile devices, unperturbed by this being recorded. In China, people are very much aware of state snooping. Under President Xi, a ‘social credit' scheme is being rolled out, whereby career opportunities and access to schools, services, and travel are determined by an algorithm that rates the acceptability of each person’s posts and followers on Weibo (the Chinese equivalent of Facebook). Twitter bans are the thin end of the wedge.

While no Western country would overtly ditch democratic principles, the British establishment’s response to the EU referendum shows how the hoi polloi can be defied. The British people have been hoodwinked as their government has ceded sovereignty on the trajectory from the Common Market to the European Union. This was always the plan, as laid out by Monnet in the 1960s. Like Pravda, truth can be dressed up for public consumption, although not always credibly. Merely 13% of the British public believe what the government tells them on immigration (a result that shocked only the survey sponsors Hope not Hate). Politicians who thought they would represent their voters find themselves in the pockets of Sir Humphrey, the chief civil servant in the satirical TV show Yes Minister. Olly Robbins was always in charge of the EU negotiations, not David Davis; making a mockery of his status as Minister of the Department for Exiting the EU.

A healthy democracy relies on people having access to information. But the British government spent £9.3 million of taxpayers’ money promoting the Remain cause in the EU referendum. ‘Project fear’ was meant to scare the ordinary people from voting intuitively against rule by a foreign power. Checks and balances on government power are no longer functioning properly: the corrupted Electoral Commission, for example. The Tommy Robinson case was an exercise in state propaganda, with a blackout of his summary imprisonment followed by approved disinformation from compliant mainstream media. Populism is perceived as dangerous as it pits the common people against the cosmopolitan elite. So it is suppressed by demonizing any rabble-rouser who exposes lies or the underlying agenda.

Equality before the law is another casualty of the creep of autocracy. The moral relativism of identity politics is a boon to state control because it facilitates the old strategy of ‘divide and rule’. In the counter-culture of the 1960s, influenced by the critique of Michel Foucault, emancipatory campaigners spoke truth to power, while the privileged spoke power to truth. But the left-wing students of that time became the new Establishment, quashing opposing fact or opinion with their ‘safe spaces’, ‘no-platforming’ and weaponizing of mental health language such as ‘trauma’.

This new puritanism is a tightening ratchet on the Enlightenment triumvirate of freedom of speech, democracy, and equality before the law. Society has retreated from rationalism to moralizing emotionalism, thereby weakening democracy by boosting the power of leaders who are able to manipulate emotional weaknesses. What is to be done? Perhaps nothing less than a revolution, but this could be averted if people took the plunge and voted for a party that genuinely puts them first. Populism is simply a pejorative term for people power.

The slogan 'take back control' used by Vote Leave implies a shift of power from one authority to another. Tough action is needed on terrorism and crime, but most people just want to get on with their lives with minimal state meddling. We should revisit John Stuart Mill’s On Liberty: -

"The sole end for which mankind are warranted, individually or collectively, in interfering with the liberty of action of any of their number, is self-protection".

from Republic Standard | Conservative Thought & Culture Magazine https://ift.tt/2OD11Mt via IFTTT

#IFTTT #Republic Standard | Conservative Thought & Culture Magazine

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sartle-blog · 7 years ago

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The Crown Season 2: Royal Romances in Art History!

#queen elizabeth ii #the crown #netflix #british royalty #royal family #art #art history #history #royals #royalty #Madame de Pompadour #french royalty #american royalty #pop culture #serious art history #scandal

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historywithlaura · 4 years ago

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JAMES FITZJAMES

1st Duke of Berwick

(born 1670 - died 1734)

pictured above is a portrait of the Duke of Berwick, by Benedetto Gennari II from the 17th century

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SERIES - On this day August Edition: James was born on 21 August 1670.

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JAMES was born on 21 August 1670, at the town of Moulins in France. He was the eldest illegitimate son of James, Duke of York and his mistress Arabella Churchill, and thus was from an illegitimate line of the HOUSE OF STUART. He was named JAMES FITZJAMES, meaning James son of James.

Raised and educated in France, he only moved to England after his father acceeded as James II, King of England (and as James VII, King of Scots) in 1685.

By 1687 his father created him DUKE OF BERWICK, EARL OF TINMOUTH and BARON BOSWORTH, and he was also made a KNIGHT OF THE ORDER OF THE GARTER.

However his father's reign lasted less than three years, before he was deposed in 1688 by the Glourious Revolution. After which he accompanied his father and stepmother, his father's second wife Princess Maria of Modena to their exile in France.

Over the next years as his father tried to recover the throne, he fought in the Jacobite Irish Army at the Irish campaign of 1689.

After the Jacobites many defeats he left for France again, alongside his father. There he joined the French Army entering the service of his cousin Louis XIV, King of France.

At his father's Parisian Court he married the widow Lady HONORA in 1695 and had one son. She was from Irish nobility, the youngest daughter of William Burke, 7th Earl of Clanricarde and Helen MacCarty. With her late husband Patrick Sarsfield, 1st Earl of Lucan, one of the leaders of the Irish Jacobite Army, she already had another son.

Around 1695 the English Parliament removed his titles from the English Peerage, to do his support for his father's cause, so they became part of the unofficial Jacobite Peerage and were later recognized in France but never again in England.

In 1698 his first wife died and in 1770 he married again, to another of his father's courtiers, a certain ANNE. She was the youngest daughter of Henry Bulkeley and Sophia Stewart, a very distant relative of his father. With his second wife he had thirteen children.

During his early service in the French Army he was a premier general in the Spanish War of Succession, achieving many victories against the Habsburgs in favor of Felipe V, King of Spain.

By 1706 he became a French subject and was made a MARSHAL OF FRANCE by the King Louis XIV. The next year King Felipe V recognized the title of DUKE OF BERWICK as a Grandee of Spain and created him as DUKE OF LIRIA AND JÉRICA. In 1710 he was also created DUKE OF FITZ-JAMES in France.

The Duke of Berwick fought on the War of the Spanish Succession until the end and was later assigned to fight on the War of the Polish Succession, dying aged 63, at the Siege of Philippsburg in 1734, being decapitated by a cannonball.

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JAMES and his first wife HONORA had one child...

James Fitz-James Stuart, 2nd Duke of Berwick - husband of Catalina Ventura Colón of Portugal and Ayala-Toledo.

And with his second wife ANNE he had thirtheen children...

Jacques of Fitz-James, 2nd Duke of Fitz-James - husband of Vitória Felicite of Durfort;

Henriette of Fitz-James - wife of Jean-Baptiste-Louis, Marquis of Reynel;

François of Fitz-James, 3rd Duke of Fitz-James - a bishop;

Laure-Anne of Fitz-James - wife of Joachim-Louis of Montagu, Marquis of Bouzols;

Henri of Fitz-James - unmarried;

Charles of Fitz-James, 4th Duke of Fitz-James - husband of Victoire Goyon of Matignon;

Marie-Émilie of Fitz-James - wife of François-Marie of Pérusse, Marquis of Escars;

Édouard of Fitz-James - unmarried;

Anne-Sophie of Fitz-James - a nun;

an unknown son;

another unknown son;

another unknown son; and

an unknown daughter.

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James, his only son from his first marriage succeeded on his Spanish titles as 2nd Duke of Berwick, Liria and Jérica. This son founded the Fitz-James Stuart family in Spain, that in the late 18th century merged to family of the Dukes of Alba.

While Jacques, his eldest son from his second marriage, succeeded as 2nd Duke of Fitz-James in France. This son founded the Fitz-James family in France but died childless and would be succeeded by two brothers as Dukes of FitzJames. This branch of his family became extinct at the death of the 10th Duke of Fitz-James in 1967.

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trekkiewatt · 8 years ago

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Rutherford Roundup - The Reverend Samuel Rutherford

Remarks At “THE RUTHERFORD ROUNDUP” Held in Toronto on November 3, 1973 On which occasion Brigadier W. S. Rutherford unveiled a portrait. of the Reverend Samuel Rutherford, 1600 — 1661. In attendance were 48 descendants, including spouses, of the illustrious Scottish divine. The founder of our branch of the family was the late William Rutherford, who as a boy of eighteen, came with his family to Canada in 1833. The family landed at Quebec, having taken seven weeks, to cross the Ocean in a sailing vessel. William Rutherford was the second son of the late Ebanezer Rutherford and was one of a family of seven children. He was born in 1815 in the County of Monaghan, Ireland. It has always been a tradition in the Rutherford family that among our ancestors was the Rev. Samuel Rutherford who, among his many distinctions, was in 1647 the Principal of St. Mary’s College at St. Andrews University. St. Andrews was then the ecclesiastical centre of Scotland but to quote from ~ book on St. Andrews: “In a certain way, the history of St. Andrews is undeniably disappointing. It was the scene of great events; we know that the events occurred but, as a rule, we do not, until after the Reformation, find any vivifying details — Wallace was here, and Bruce, and Edward ‘I and the Black Douglas. We know this and there our knowledge stops; the history of St. Andrews, for more than half of its..period, is destitute of colour and personal facts’ Some day I hope that if you have not already visited St. Andrews you will do so and see the ruins of the magnificent ... 2 —2— Cathedral built on the rise overlooking the East Coast of the North Sea. There you will see the large Memorial Plaque to the memory to the Rev. Samuel Rutherford. His actual burial place, however, is at Anwoth, where for many years he was the greatly beloved Pastor. At St. Andrews you will see in the dining room of St. Mary’s College the portrait of the Rev. Samuel. On the outside of the College carved in stone are the Rutherford Arms. In the library you will find some of his manuscripts in fine hand—writing and the College is still doing research on his theological teachings. His is a name greatly to be revered as I shall try to point out in this brief sketch of some of the outstanding events of his life. First let me pause to ask the senior member of our Rutherford Clan, Brigadier Dill, to unveil a full—size copy of the portrait I mentioned. The Rev.Samuel Rutherford was born about 1600 in the Village of Nisbet, Roxburgshire, and entered Edinburgh College in 1617, earned his M.A. in 1621 and two years after, elected Professor of Humanity. In 1627, he was appointed Minister at Anwoth, Kirkcudbrightshire took a leading place among the clergy of Galloway. In 1636 his first book, “Exercitationes Apologeticae —3— Pro Divina Gratia” — an elaborate treatise. Against Arminianism — appeared at Amsterdam. Its severe Calvinism led to a prosecution by the Bishop. Rutherford was deposed from his pastoral office and sentenced to confinement in Aberdeen during the King’s pleasure. He was as proficient in Greek and Latin as in English. It was here that he wrote his famous “Letters” which have gone through many editions. The copy in my hand belonged to Robert Burns and bears Robbie’s signature. Rutherford was present at the signing of the Covenant at Edinburgh in 1638 and at the Glasgow Assembly he was restored to his Parish. In 1639 he was appointed Professor of Divinity at St. Mary’s College. In 1643 he was one of eight Commissioners sent from Scotland to the Westminster Assembly. More books followed including “Lex Rex” — a Dispute for the Just Prerogative of King and People. This treatise established Rutherford as one of the early writers on Constitutional Law. There followed “Divine Right of Church Government and Excommunication”(1646) and “Free Disputation Against Pretended Liberty of Conscience “ ... 4 —4— (1648) described as “perhaps the most elaborate defense of persecution which has ever appeared in a Christian country”. Further books followed and in 1648 — 1651 he declined successive invitations to theological chairs at Harderwijk and Utrecht. After the Restoration in 1660, his “Lex Rex” was ordered to be burned by the Stuarts. He was deprived of all his offices and on a charge of high treason was cited to appear before the ensuing Parliament. He died on the 23rd of the following March. At St. Andrews you may see the gate in the wall from which he delivered his polemic against rule by Divine Right in the presence of Charles II. He was a man of great intellect, of great humanitarian qualities and a defender unto death of those principles in which he believed. Thirteen generations is a long time to trace a family tree, even with two marriages. It is difficult to trace any of the Rev. Samuel’s family. Allowing three children per generation and three and a half centuries, there should . . . 5 —5— be about 200,000 of us! The tradition has always been passed on by word -of- mouth. My Mother used to say that until her generation, there had always been a Presbyterian Minister in the family by the name of Samuel. In any case, tradition is often stronger than reality and there can be no possible, probable doubt that we are all Rutherfords! We have good reason to be proud of our Rutherford ancestry. There used to be a couple of Rutherford peerages but on checking “Burkes”, I found none. We do know, however, that it was the scientist, Lard Rutherford, one time professor at McGill, who made a notable contribution toward the splitting of the atom. Also, I think there used to be a title in abeyance for want of heirs and I thought how nice it would be to have Brigadier Bill receive it. The British “Who’s Who” lists five Rutherfords who are Knights. We trust they are worthy of some connection with our family. As to our immediate ancestry. William Rutherford married twice — to sisters. By his first wife, he was the father of Uncles Eben and Boyd and Aunt Grace Morton. At the age of 50 Uncle Eben and .a Major MulhoUan4t from Toronto started an orange grove on the outskirts of Havana, Cuba. The city developed, Uncle Eben became a “developer” was the first President of the Country Club, and died leaving over half a million, a consider— —6— able sum in those days, even when it was divided among nine brothers and sisters. By his second marriage, our grandfather or great-grandfather Rutherford, as the case may be, had seven children: Eliza, Mary, Will, Sara, Sam, Alice and Hattie. As I recall, Grandmother Rutherford lived to he 96, my mother Sara 95, Aunt Alice 97 and Aunt Hattie 100. Aunt Hattie was a missionary in China and on the table is a medal which she received at the time of the Boxer Rebellion. As I mentioned I cannot find that we are “related to a peer” but in these changing times it may be of comfort to relate that according to the “Mornington Times”, our grandfather cleared three farms, and this before the days of tractors, etc., finally settling in a beautiful location at Millbank, Ontario, near Stratford. There he not only had a fine farm, but was the Postmaster, owned the general store, the saw mill and a tannery as well. If the worst comes to the worst, with an inheritance of such a work ethic we. should be able to survive and look forward to another “Rutherford Roundup’ three and a half centuries down the line with happiness and prosperity again clearly depicted on the faces of each and every one of us. November, 1973. S ~ ~ 7 —7— ADDENDA: * From a biography of the Reverend Samuel Rutherford: “He was known as Joshua Redivivus” and one chapter is entitled: “Samuel Rutherford and some of his Extremes”. A further quotation is as follows: “For no man of his age in broad Scotland stood higher as a scholar, a theologian, a controversialist, a preacher and a very saint than Samuel Rutherford ... He could write in Latin better than either in Scotch or English.” He is also quoted as saying, “I am made of extremes From the tombstone at Anwoth: “What tongue or pen or skill of men Can famous Rutherford commend His learning greatly raised his fame True godliness adorned his name He did converse with things above Acquainted with Emmanuel’s love Most orthodox he was and sound And many errors did confound For Zion Kingdom and Zion’s cause And Scotland’s covenanted laws Most constantly he aid commend Until his time was at an end Then he went to the full fruition Of that which he had seen in vision”. 1. WILLIAM RUTHERFORD (b. 1815 County of Monaghan, Ireland d. 1886 at Millbank, Perth County, Ontario) William Rutherford, the second son of the late Ebenezer Rutherford and Maria Sofia Campbell, was one of a family of seven children, born in the year 1815 in the County of Monaghan, Ireland. Maria Sofia Campbell was the daughter of William Charles Campbell, a solicitor of Belfast, Ireland. It is believed that Ebenezer Rutherford and his wife had a farm in Markham Township in York County, Ontario. Maria Campbell Rutherford’s sister and her husband may have had the adjoining farm. With the family he came to Canada in 1833, landing at Quebec, having taken seven weeks to cross the ocean in a sailing vessel. He proceeded west to Ontario and settled near Peterborough in the Township of Cavan where he cleared a farm. He was known as one of the Cavan Blazers, having enlisted to put down the rebellion of 1837. However, the lure of the Queen’s Bush attracted him and we find him travelling west again, passing through Muddy York (Now Toronto) and Hamilton and on over the primitive roads by oxcart until he came to the Township of Wellesley where he decided to settle and there started clearing another farm from the bush lands. Here he married Mary, daughter of James Freeborn, of Donegal, Ireland, but after a few years his beloved wife passed away, leaving two sons and one daughter. Ambitious to advance still farther into the bush, Mr. —2— Rutherford sold his farm and with his brother—in-law, John Freeborn, went west a further ten miles where they located on the banks of a small river and cleared land enough to build a log home. In a short time Mr. Rutherford built a grist and saw mill and this was the nucleus of a settlement which they called the Village of Millbank. Here he married Eleanor Freeborn, a sister of his deceased wife, and to them were born two Sons and five daughters. The grist mill was the first industry established in the Village but in the years following, Mr. Rutherford built a tannery, a flax mill and a woolen mill and also established a general store which served the newly settled district for many miles around and eventually grew to quite large proportions. These industries all prospered but his chief interests were the management of the store and looking after two farms, both of which were grants from the Crown and consisting, one of one hundred and fifty acres adjoining the village and the other of one hundred acres on part of which the village was surveyed and from one corner of his farm he donated to the village lands for a public cemetery, and a further portion to the Episcopal church for the erection of a church building and manse. —For many years Mr. Rutherford was actively interested in the buying and shipping of live stock to the United States, his principal markets being Buffalo, Albany and New York, and to these places he shipped many hundreds of carloads. In these earlier days the nearest railway point was Moorefield Station, about sixteen miles away, and it was necessary to drive the stock this distance for shipment, but later when the railway was built through the —3— Township of Mornington, he had a shipping base close at hand. Mr. Rutherford was widely known and very highly respected throughout North Perth and North Waterloo and was the first Postmaster for the Village of Millbank, receiving his appointment in 1850 and which office he retained during the remainder of his life. He was a member of the Wesleyan Methodist Church at Millbank and was a firm believer in salvation through Jesus Christ, his last testimony being a confession of faith in which he quoted the words of the Scripture, “Look unto Me all ye ends of the earth and be ye saved. He died on February 10, 1886, at the age of seventy—one -years and was buried in Rushs Cemetery, near Wellesley Village. His family left Millbank in 1888. His first wife, Nary Freeborn, died March 10, 1853. His second wife, Eleanor Freeborn, died in Los Angeles, California around 1928 at the age of 96. WILLIAM RUTHERFORD (1815 — 1886) • Mornington and Its Pioneers by Malcolm McBeth, published by the Milverton Sun, Milverton, Ontario, 1933. This part was already quoted and removed. Eben Rutherford, the eldest son of William Rutherford and Mary Freeborn, was probably born in 1846 in Wellesley Township, Waterloo County, Ontario. After the age of 50, and probably after the Spanish American War (1900), Eben Rutherford, together with a Major Mulholland from Toronto, started an orange grove on the outskirts of Havana, Cuba. As the City developed, Eben became a property developer. Correspondence with his brother—in—law (Henry B. Jackman) dated 1912, refers to his real estate speculations and his promotion of land companies in which he wanted his relatives to invest. He refers to the necessary bribes to the “car line” and its manager to “put the line our way”. He was promoting a company which would be capatilized at $250,000 in 6% nineteen year bonds with 125,000 shares attached. An additional 350,000 shares were given as a bonus to the promoter. He refers to being able to sell 100 acres for $1,070,000 to net a profit of $490,000. Eben Rutherford was President of the Country Club in Havana. He died around 1917 without a wife or children. His estate of approximately $500,000 was divided equally between his nine brothers and sisters. This was a considerable sum in those days and the significance of this inheritance to his relatives should not be underestimated. 1. JAMES FREEBORN of County Donegal, Ireland. Born 1768, died 1848. He may have come to Canada in 1840 with at least three of his children. His wife Mary Reid died February 20, 1884 at age 98. (a) JOHN FREEBORN (born Donegal, Ireland, 1820) Formal history and standard biography play an important part in fostering a national spirit. Canada has an ample supply of such works; but the history of the beginners of the nation, the men and women who carved out homes for themselves in the dense forests, on the wide, lonely prairies and in the stern mountain valleys, their story can be gleaned only from almost inaccessible nooks, where lies “a veritable storehouse of information” on pioneer days. Just as it was the unknown soldier that won the Great World War so was it the unknown pioneers that with suffering, heroism and dogged determination laid broad and deep the foundations of Canada. In the middle forties there opened up the “Queen’s Bush” for settlement, about the last available territory for settlement in Western Ontario. In this territory was the unsurveyed Township of Mornington and many people “squatted” on what turned out to be excellent farms. The first of these came in 1843 and took up land in the vicinity of Musselburg and Poole and within three or four years the whole township was populated. Among the very first settlers of Millbank was William Rutherford and John Freeborn, the subject of this sketch, who arrived in 1847. The village plot was laid out by these two gentlemen. It received its name some years later in the following manner. Mr. Freeborn had built a mill on the west side of the creek which was flanked by a bank of considerable height; and one day when passing the place in company with a surveyor named Maxwell, he asked Maxwell to suggest a name for the village and that gentleman, taking inspiration from his surroundings, suggested the circumstances of the “mill and the “bank”, a combination of which resulted in the name of Millbank, by which the village was thence— forward known. John Freeborn was born in County Donegal, Ireland in 1820 and in 1840 embarked for America, resolved to try his fortune in the New World. He arrived at St. John, N.B., and remained there one year working at ship carpentering which trade he learned in Ireland, removing at the end of that time to Boston, Mass., where he pursued the same avocation with credit and profit till induced by friends living in Peterborough County, Canada West, to visit them in 1842. Mr. Freeborn’s friends persuaded him to remain in Canada and during the next three years he was connected with the Government works on the Ontonabee and Trent Rivers, where large timber slides and kindred works were being constructed, but being compelled by ill—health to leave that locality he came west and settled in Stratford when the only building it contained was a tavern and a store. Here he worked at his trade until 1847 when he came to Millbank and in the same year commenced the erection on the pioneer mill in Mornington operated by a waterwheel which drove a muley, or up and down saw. After being in operation for four years it was destroyed by fire when he rebuilt an improved scale. He continued the operation of it for several years when he embarked in the mercantile business from which he retired a number of years later after having acquired a competence by a long career of energetic perseverance, enterprise and strict integrity. 2. (a) MARY JANE FREEBORN (born 1811) who married William Rutherford around ? She died March 10, 1853 bearing her last child. (a) ELEANOR FREEBORN (born 1832?) who married William Rutherford after her sister died. She died in Los Angeles around 1928 at the age of 96. JAMES FREEBORN (1820 —?) Mornington and its Pioneers by Malcolm McBeth, Published by the Milverton Sun, Milverton, Ontario, 1933.

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