Showing posts with label George VI. Show all posts
Showing posts with label George VI. Show all posts

The King's Nickname

The habit of endowing our kings with nicknames or descriptive epithets seems to have died out, except perhaps in the pages of the tabloid press. More’s the pity. My learned friend @Mrs Symbols has wisely pointed out that had George VI, the subject of the Oscar-winning movie The King’s Speech, lived a thousand years earlier, he would probably have earned a nickname similar to that of his distant ancestor, the French king Louis II (c. 846–879), known to his contemporaries as Louis the Stammerer.

Louis was the son of Charles the Bald (r. 843-877), the first king of West Francia, the area that encompasses modern-day France. The Carolingian monarchs and their nobles are distinguished in the chronicles of the time by a quite glorious collection of soubriquets. Forget the rather dull list of regnal numbers, Charlemagne (or Charles the Great, himself the son of Pippin the Short) was succeeded in 814 by his son Louis the Pious. He fathered three princes who divided up the empire between them: Charles the Bald, Lothair, and Louis the German. Louis the German’s son was Charles the Fat, and Charles the Bald’s successor was his son, Louis the Stammerer. They numbered among their noble followers Bernard the Calf, count of Toulouse, Wilfrid the Hairy, count of Barcelona and Bernard Hairypaws, count of Autun. Although they sound like the cast of an episode of Blackadder, these were powerful, ambitious men, dedicated to serving their king (mostly) and carving out mini-kingdoms for themselves. 
They were united in their struggle against the Vikings, enemies with equally descriptive names, like Ragnar Lodbrok (Hairy-breeches) and, er, Ivar the Boneless. It wasn’t till the 10th century that Erik Bloodaxe bagged the best and most terrifying Viking nickname of them all.
Historians differ in their opinions about these kingly nicknames. You’d think that the clue would be in the name, but one theory has it that Charles was so hirsute, that he was nicknamed ‘the Bald’ in an ironic manner. Bernard Hairypaws was apparently so-called because of his foxy nature, rather than his shaggy hands.
Louis the Stammerer from a 14th
century ms. (Wikimedia)
As for Louis the Stammerer, it seems that like George VI, he suffered from being the son of a formidable father. Charles the Bald fought throughout his adult life to hold his widespread domains together in the face of Viking attacks, revolting nobles and bitter family arguments that ripped Charlemagne’s empire apart. He expected his four sons to obey him without question. Charles himself was the youngest of Louis the Pious’s sons and knew only too well the dangers and problems inherent in allowing ambitious young princes to carve out their own domains. Louis the Stammerer and his brothers, Charles the Child and Carloman, were not outstanding in their filial devotion and during the 860s and 870s periodically stirred up trouble against their father. When his third son, Carloman, rebelled against him, Charles the Bald had him blinded and imprisoned in the abbey of Corbie. So perhaps it’s not surprising that Louis stammered. 
Louis did not have a Lionel Logue to help him, but interestingly, in the face of such a ferocious parent, at the age of 16 in 862 he secretly married his concubine Ansgarde, a woman 20 years older than him, who presumably provided some comfort. Ten years later, his father forced him to repudiate Ansgarde in favour of a more politically advantageous wife, and Louis, with his eye on his inheritance, complied. 
Louis inherited the throne in 877, but survived only two years, dying in 879. In an age when military might and a commanding personal presence were all-important, Louis was seen to be lacking and was certainly overshadowed by his powerful father. But in his brief time on the throne he continued his father’s work in maintaining an iron grip on the West Frankish realm, and eventually, it was his youngest (posthumous) son, Charles the Simple or Straightforward (879-929), who crushed the Vikings and restored order to France. 

Shy Kings and Dance Cards


(This site is still waiting to be spring cleaned...please bear with me if it goes a little wonky for a while)

Last week, in the wake of the deserved success of “The King’s Speech”, Channel 4 presented a moving documentary entitled “The Real King’s Speech” which added more background to the film. It included original footage of George VI making various speeches, and alongside that way in which these were presented by the BBC (some of them doctored to make the speech more fluent), the original with all its pauses and hesitations. The close-ups of the King’s face, the movement of his lips and the muscles in his throat as he attempted what was for him ‘hell’ (his word for it) as he worked on overcoming his stammer and speech impediment were incredibly moving. Several things came to mind.

Firstly, the original assessment in the notes of his therapist mentioned the total lack of diaphragm movement and the virtual ‘idleness’ of the solar plexus. The solar plexus has long been seen as the centre of self-awareness/self-worth (isn’t it amazing how, when you are humiliated you feel it physically in your gut?) and it is small wonder that poor George VI had such self-worth issues when you consider the horrors of his childhood: being forced into leg-splints, having his hand tied behind him because he was left-handed (as a left-handed person myself, I cannot think of anything more bizarre than that kind of treatment and hurrah that his great-grandson, Prince William, is left-handed and no one thinks anything of it!) and having such a bully of a father who yelled at him constantly!

Secondly, it is interesting that King George’s courage was recognised during his lifetime and is even more highly regarded now. The immense strength of character it took for a desperately shy man with a speech impediment to accept the throne for which he was unprepared cannot be underestimated. It is said that when he realised his brother had abdicated, he sobbed for an hour at the realisation of what responsibility he must now shoulder. For a man to be so afraid and yet to take that responsibility, it requires enormous moral courage and George VI demonstrated that courage.

And yet....Nicholas II...The Tsar did not stammer but he, too, had felt overwhelmed by a powerful father and was suddenly saddled with an empire for which he, at only 26 years old, was suddenly responsible. Not only was he coming to terms with father’s death, but also realising the enormous task ahead of him, when he cried on his cousin’s shoulders, that did not feel ready for such responsibility. George VI is, quite rightly, regarded as heroic for his moral courage. Nicholas, however, facing an even greater task, is regarded as weak. I think they were both very brave men who, at great personal cost, did not shirk responsibility. I wish that Nicholas would also be generally described as courageous.

On a lighter note I have a bizarre question! At balls, when ladies often had dance
cards attached to their wrists on which they could ‘book’ who would partner them for which dance, how did the men remember on whose cards their names were written and how did they make sure they didn’t double-book themselves? Did they have secret notebooks stashed in their pockets or did they have to remember exactly what they had already arranged?

Not a Romantic Story


Some years ago, a programme described the plight of orphans in an Eastern European country, who had been raised from their earliest years in a Spartan setting in which they were given everything necessary to keep them alive - food and drink - but totally deprived of any physical contact or warmth. Depriving them of hugs and touch was as damaging as depriving them of food.

Tonight, watching the repeat of the "Revelations" programme about Edward VIII, I had exactly the same impression. Here, it appeared, was a man who functioned without any warmth of personality or humanity - even his relationship with Wallis Simpson was an attempt to gratify his own needs rather than a great romance - a man who seemed to have no sense whatsoever of the effects of his behaviour on other people, or, if he did have any awareness of it, didn't care. It's small wonder when he had father who terrified him and a mother who didn't really like children. I doubt there was any warmth at all in his childhood and he behaved like an infant for most of his life. It's a tragic tale, really, and one that speaks volumes about the influences of parents and how the world is perceived as a child. Interestingly, none of the children of George V grew up without some kind of personality issue; they all seemed to want to punish themselves in one way or another - which isn't surprising when one considers their punishing childhood regimen. Bertie - King George VI - came out best, despite his stammer (surely the result of his childhood fears, too - and not being allowed to write with his natural left hand) and it is a source of continual bafflement to me why George V was so tyrannical and humourless and such a bully to his children when he came from a loving (if overbearing!) mother, and a father who loved all the pleasures of life...

Much is written about the 'stupidity' of George V's elder brother, Albert Victor, who died so young, but he was not half as stupid as he is generally portrayed. He was a warm man, and one who understood many important political questions of the day (Ireland, for example) and would probably have made a far better king than George V. I dare say, too, that Albert Victor would have not been a bully and would have dared to rescue the Tsar and his family...George V, to my mind, was a very nasty man and it is evidenced in the effects on his children.
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