Hello, Harlot!

By Susan/Miranda

While this week does seem to be the endless Independence Day weekend (you know, the Second-Third-Fourth-Fifth-and-Sixth of July: that holiday), it also marks the release of my second historical novel, Royal Harlot.  Royal Harlot follows the life and career of Barbara Villiers Palmer, Countess of Castlemaine, Duchess of Cleveland (1641-1709), and the most famous/infamous mistress of English King Charles II (1630-85.)  In a way, it’s appropriate to mention Barbara and independence together, for Barbara is certainly one of the most independent women in history. 

Born to a noble family, she took her first lover at 15, married at 18, and became Charles’s lover the following year.  Following his Restoration to the throne, she was the unofficial queen of his bawdy, fun-loving court for nearly a decade, amassing enormous power and wealth along the way. She was feared for her political influence, acclaimed for her beauty, audacity, and wit, and damned from pulpits for her legendary amorality. Despite her long attachment to Charles, neither of them could stay faithful to the other, and like him, Barbara had scores of lovers, from rope-dancers to actors to high-born lords.  She was a lousy wife, but an excellent friend and mother, devoted to her six illegitimate children (all of whom survived to adulthood, a rare achievement indeed.) After their own fashion, I think Charles did love her dearly, and she him: their version of a love story, a friendship, an alliance.  They really were two of a kind.  But Barbara did what she pleased, with whomever pleased her, and she didn’t give a fig for what anyone else thought.

To judge from contemporary diaries, it seems that at least half the men in 17th century London were fantasizing about her at any given time.  And from the way she and Charles took over my writing-life for nearly a year, I’d have to say her power to fascinate is still strong after three hundred years.

As delighted as Barbara would be today to see her story in so many bookstores, I’m sure she would be horrified by her cropped, faceless portrait on the cover. I’ve mentioned here before that while my publisher wanted to use a real portrait of her, they felt that her much-vaunted beauty wouldn’t hold much appeal to modern readers.  Tastes change.  What was hot in 1660 ain’t necessarily so now, and today Barbara’s much-praised “languid eyes” look more drugged than seductive.

Yet Barbara understood the power of image in a thoroughly modern way.  She knew her power lay in her extraordinary beauty, and she knew, too, that the more people who could see her and therefore appreciate that beauty, the more power in turn she’d have as a public figure. 

Early in her relationship with Charles, she sat for artist Sir Peter Lely.  He adored her beauty, and painted her repeatedly, becoming so bewitched by her that other sitters complained he’d given them Barbara’s eyes.  In addition to seeing his portraits of Barbara hung in Palace, Sir Peter also commissioned and sold inexpensive prints of the portraits.  Soon Barbara’s face became as ubiquitous as Paris Hilton’s is to us, with prints hanging in taverns and barracks all over England, as well as in the parlors of people who wished to be fashionable. 

But Barbara’s portraits weren’t simply pretty pictures.  Seventeenth-century portraits often showed their sitters in allegorical poses, as goddesses or Biblical figures, and Barbara, knowing how Charles delighted in clever jests, took care to have Sir Peter pack her portraits with all sorts of hidden meanings.  For her first major portrait in 1661, she posed as the repentant prostitute and saint Mary Magdalene, in the wilderness with her long hair unbound (and a revealing, silver silk-satin dressing gown clasped with jewel brooches, but what else does one wear, really, for repenting in the wilderness?) 

Barbara, of course, was neither saintly nor penitent, which her contemporaries would have understood at once.  Yet they also would have understood the other, more subtle, implications of the painting –– that if Barbara were the Magdalene, then Charles, as the leader of the English Protestant Church, could also be likened to Jesus Christ –– that seem unsettlingly irreligious today.

But Barbara went further.  In 1665, she had Sir Peter paint her without jewels, in the modest blue and red robes of the Virgin Mary. In her arms is the baby Charles Fitzroy, later Duke of Cleveland, her first illegitimate son with the king.  She is also visibly pregnant. As lovely a painting as this is, it managed to be simultaneously blasphemous and yet flattering to Charles (who liked it very much), while also presenting Barbara and her son as part of the Stuart royal dynasty.  Charles was increasingly sensitive to the fact that his wife had yet to give him a much-needed heir, and he was reassured by this visible proof of his own potent virility.  At the same time, the picture was a calculated jab at Charles’s Catholic queen. Catherine of Braganza, showing Barbara as the fertile (very fertile) Protestant Madonna, and a more suitable consort to an English king. 

The 1667 portrait on the cover of Royal Harlot is another calculated allegory, designed to make everyone talk.  This time Barbara appropriates the queen’s own patron saint, posing as St. Catherine of Alexandria with the saint’s palm-front and the wheel of her martyrdom.  Her hand on the suggestive (!!) sword’s hilt represented her readiness to fight for her place at the king’s side, even to the point of usurping the queen.  Wearing decidedly unsaintly jewels (gifts from the king, natch), her voluptuous uncorseted body flaunts her obvious attractions (and the fact that she is again pregnant) in the face of the sallow little queen. 

Barbara’s sly half-smile has a certain “what, can’t you take a joke?” feel to it that somehow makes the picture even more wicked.   Did Charles see the joke, too, or had Barbara finally gone too far?  Ah, you’ll have to read Royal Harlot, and find out for yourself…

Read the prologue for Royal Harlot, and learn how Barbara and Charles first meet.

“Bad Boys” have always been a favorite kind of hero, but “Bad Girl” heroines are relatively few –– especially bad girls like Barbara who are unapologetically bad by choice, not circumstance.  Do you have a favorite fictional (or historical) bad girl?  I’ll give away a copy of Royal Harlot on Sunday night to one of the readers who post to this blog.

Most of these paintings of Barbara come from the wonderful book Painted Ladies: Women at the Court of Charles II by Catherine MacLeod and Julia Marciari Alexander.

Comments

[Sherrie Holmes]

Susan/Miranda, I sort of understand your publisher not putting Barbara's entire face on the cover for fear her "beauty" wouldn't translate well in the 21st Century. While I don't think she's pretty by today's standards, her powerful charisma and sexual allure leap out at you from her portraits. She looks confident and self-possessed, and that in itself can be a strong attraction for the opposite sex.

New Subject: "LILinda," your name was drawn as the winner of Patricia Rice's MYSTIC GUARDIAN! Please contact Pat or me privately with your mailing address and your preference for how you want your book signed. You can reach us at readers2@patricia rice.com or [email protected]

Susan/Miranda, please forgive the temporary highjacking. Now, back to Bad Barbara . . .

[Angela]

I adore Barbara Castlemaine. Even though she was so scheming and cunning, I can't help but become enthralled each time I come across a mention of her--be it fiction, non-fiction or film.

[Angela]

I adore Barbara Castlemaine. Even though she was so scheming and cunning, I can't help but become enthralled each time I come across a mention of her--be it fiction, non-fiction or film.

[Simone]

I love bad girl heroines - there are far too few of them! My favourite is probably Hariette Wilson, who offered her former lovers the option of paying her lots of money to stay out of her memoirs :) She was fascinating, although sadly, her life did not end well..

[Pam P]

Mata Hari - exotic and a free spirited seductress, later a more dangerous one involved with intrigue, though that lead to her unfortunate end.

[Theresa N.]

I don't have a favorite character, mine's more of a favorite type.

[Janga]

I haven't been able to find Royal Harlot locally, but I am hoping to have better luck when I go to a larger city over the weekend. I am even more eager to read it after your blog, Susan/Miranda.

I am not sure how accurate the "history" surrounding her is, but Aspasia of Miletus is my favorite "bad girl" character. She earned high praise for her intelligence and rhetorical skills. Some accounts even credit her with authoring Pericles's famous funeral oration. Plutarch lauds "her rare political wisdom." She was attacked for her immorality and for her influence over Pericles and his decisions. Plutarch also says that Pericles kissed her daily when he left and when he returned. Isn't that a lovely detail?

[Elizabeth K. Mahon]

Susan/Miranda, I loved your book on Sarah Churchill, Duchess of Marlborough, and I've just ordered your book on Barbara Castlemaine, another favorite. I particularly loved Helen McCrory's performance in the Charles II mini-series with Rufus Sewell, although I suspect they cut it down for US audiences. I only wished you lived closer so that you could come talk to the NY chapter!

[Elizabeth K. Mahon]

Oh and my favorite historical bad girl would have to be Amber from Forever Amber. Real life bad girl, hmmm, either Lady Caroline Lamb or Jane Digby.

[Cathy Leming]

I think she's beautiful.

[Nina P]

My copy of Harlot arrived on my desk last night. I was up until 4 am, reading. What glorious prose, Wench Susan/Miranda. I was swept away. Magnificent!

[Kalen Hughes]

I can't wait to read this! Are you signing in Dallas? I have been commanded by several girlfriends to procure signed copies of HARLOT and DUCHESS if I can. *grin*

[Jane O]

I'm looking forward to the book - one of the nice things about that period is that stupidity in women was not considered a virtue. Even, or maybe especially, by the king.
I can remember back in graduate school when the Restoration period was more real to me than the 20th century. One day when I was on the subway I saw a girl who looked as if she had stepped out of a Lely painting - short neck, rounded chin, protuberant eyes, and definitely voluptuous. It wasn't a style quite to contemporary tastes (those were the days of Twiggy), but it was a surprise to see that it really existed.
As for bad girls outside the Restoration period, my fictional favorite has to be Becky Sharp. In history, how about Eleanor of Acquitaine?

[Elaine McCarthy]

I was just going to mention Eleanor of Acquitaine myself! Galloping bare-breasted off to the Crusades with her first king, Louis the Pious was it? And then there was poor Heloise, seduced at 15 by her tutor (why didn't she have a tutess?) and writing adoring letters to him from her nunnery after the Dreadful Outcome. But my all-time favorite is fictional rather than historical: The Wife of Bath. Now there was a woman who knew how to enjoy life. Come to think of it, Chaucer abounds in frisky females; it kinda makes me wonder...

[shscott21]

Becky Sharp, Harriet Wilson, Eleanor of Acquitaine, the Wife of Bath, Lady Caroline Lamb, Amber St. Claire, and Mata Hari -- if that ain't a bad girl convention, I don't know what is. Imagine the time-travel talk-show. *g*

Janga, I hope by now you've found ROYAL HARLOT in a store. Though publishers swear to release books on a certain date (Wench Pat has mentioned this earlier), they still seem to come out in dribbles and drabs, and without any logic. Very hard on readers and writers.

Elizabeth, I haven't seen the Rufus Sewell Charles II -- was that a BBC series? There's certainly enough material in that man's love life to launch an entire mini-series. As for Amber -- I remember finding that book in middle-school, in a dusty edition in the local library, and at the time, it was a very informative eye-opener. Though I haven't gone back to read it again -- I decided it was better to keep it with its golden glow in my memory, than to re-read it with older, pickier eyes.

Susan/Miranda

[shscott21]

Jane O wrote: "one of the nice things about that period is that stupidity in women was not considered a virtue. Even, or maybe especially, by the king."

It is indeed one of the nicer parts. Charles was a clever man himself, and he relished wit in his courtiers, whether male or female. Reading recounted conversations from that crowd is amazing -- so many smart-mouthed people in one place! -- though while some of the "wit" is so elevated, full of classical allusions that it's hard to follow, there's also other jests and pranks that seem pretty medieval (aka, infantile) now.

Still, no matter how pretty a woman was, she had to be quick to hold Charles's attention. I've always felt sorry for the poor queen -- that would have been very tough company to be in if you didn't speak English.

Susan/Miranda

[Ingrid]

Didn't they all speak French? I always got the impression that French was the language of courts (and diplomacy) throughout the 17th and 18th century.

[Sara Lindsey]

Bad Girls...
Cleopatra
Anne Bonny and Mary Read, the pirates
Mae West

[maryjoputney]

What a great blog, Susan/Miranda! I love when you deconstruct the various portraits. My copy of HARLOT is at the top of my TBR pile, and I look forward to furthering my acquaintance with Bad Barb.

Mary Jo

[maryjoputney]

PS: I think my favorite bad girl would be Jane Digby. She was wildly romantic and serially monogamous (though she DID get around!), and she found true love with a Bedouin chieftain twenty years her junior, IIRC. Someone should make a movie about her!

Mary Jo

[Elizabeth K. Mahon]

Mary Jo, I love Jane Digby too. I always loved the fact that she was Pamela Digby Churchill Hayward Harriman's ancestress! It seems serial monogamy ran in the family! I would love to see a movie or indeed someone take her on in fiction.

[Elizabeth K. Mahon]

Susan, the Charles II was done by the BBC and shown on A&E here. It's available on DVD and quite good, particularly Shirley Henderson who plays Catherine of Bragranaz complete with bat wing hairdo.

[shscott21]

Cathy -- I agree, I think she's beautiful, too, but those folks in Marketing didn't agree, so off with her (cover) head! *g*

Kalen -- I'm sorry, no RWA for me this year. (I think Jo is going to be our sole Wenchly representative.) Please tell your friends I'm sorry to disappoint them. :(

Ingrid -- You're right, most of the nobility did speak French. Charles's mother, Henrietta Marie, was in fact a French princess, his first cousin is the French king Louis X1V, his sister married Louis's sister, and one of his last mistresses was a Frenchwoman, Louise de Kerouelle -- so Charles's ties to France were definitely there.

But France was always Englands greatest rival and often enemy, so that the English courtiers stuck stubbornly to English at this point, as much from patriotism as anything else. Charles's queen, Catherine of Braganza, was Porteguese, and no one at the English court spoke her language, or for that matter, wanted to.

Thanks for the compliment, Mary Jo! Art history and story-telling do seem to go hand in hand...

Elizabeth, I'll have to look for that BBC dvd!

Susan/Miranda

[Kalen Hughes]

Bummer. :(

We'll have to do our best to lure you out to San Franciso next year . . .

The Rufus Sewell Charles II flick was great. They did a good job showing how complicated his life was, with a wife and various mistresses running around.

[Jane O]

One of my favorite Charles II stories is about Rochester's mock epitaph (one of his non-obscene bit of verse):
Here lies our sovereign lord the king,
Whose word no man relies on.
He never said a foolish thing
and never did a wise one.
To which Charles replied that was because his words were his own, but his actions were his ministers'.
I have always suspected that Charles was the only actually intelligent king England ever had. But then I'll forgive a lot to someone who can make me laugh. I fear the reverse of that is that I doubt the intelligence of anyone without a sense of humor.

[Jo Beverley]

Wonderful blog, Susan.

Someone mentioned Mae West. She's the same type as Barbara,isn't she?

So many "bad girls" seem merely wild, and even self-destructive, so it's great to celebrate the sharp career-minded ones like Barbara, Harriet, and Mae. Sometimes having unconventional morals was the only wise career plan.

Jo :)

[Susan/DC]

I loved reading the blog about a smart, ambitious real woman of the past. I get tired of reading comments about how it's not historically accurate for a woman to try to control her own destiny. Women aren't always passive vessels, they just had to know how to make the most of the more limited avenues open to them. Barbara is clearly one of those characters who can reflect the viewer as much as herself, and the various ways she is portrayed in fact and fiction attests to that. I eagerly look forward to reading the book.

[Jane George]

Favorite fictional Bad Girl: Cat Woman.

Congratulations on birthing what looks to be a truly fascinating read!

[shscott21]

Nina P -- Many thanks for your praise of my prose *g* (Sorry I didn't reply earlier, but AOL often juggles my Typepad replies out of order.)

Jane O -- Ah, I see you have a place in my Charles Fan-Club. I don't know if it was his horrific early reign in exile that kept him aware of his own mortality and from taking himself too seriously (the fatal flaw of many rulers, kings, emporers, or presidents), but his appeal is definitely still there over the centuries.

As for Rochester -- I like him, too, poor self-destructive genius that he was. He was great buddies with Nell Gwyn (another quick-witted woman), the heroine of my current WIP, and the two of them (along with Charles) are kicking up quite a show on my keyboard this summer. *g*

Susan/Miranda

[LorettaChase]

The problem with so many fictional bad girls is that they come to a Bad End. Not so with Barbara. Becky Sharp is one of my favorites, too. Oh, and Cruella d'Evil.

Thank you, Susan/Miranda for explaining the hidden meanings in the portraits. It does add to the enjoyment of these luscious paintings!

Now I'm going to go back and read ROYAL HARLOT again!

[Melissa]

I can't think of a favorite bad girl heroine, unfortunately. I tended to like bad boys who were potentially reformable instead. Like Dain in Lord of Scoundrels. :)

And I have to agree that Barbara's eyes do look more stoned than seductive.

[Queen Bee]

I'm afraid I agree with Melissa. Barbara's eyes look a little toasted to me, but so do the King's, if you look back at his picture.

But I'm still looking forward to reading ROYAL HARLOT. Sounds like great fun.

Interesting how most of the bad girls mentioned here are/were brunettes, isn't it?

[shscott21]

Jo, I LOVE Mae West. Definitely she and Barb would have had a LOT in common!

Jane, Yes, let's toss CatWoman into the mix, and Loretta's Cruella deVille. Just because they're drawn doesn't mean they don't deserve a place in the Bad Girl Hall of Fame.

Just a Coming Attraction, too: Loretta is going to be interviewing me about ROYAL HARLOT later this month, and I promise you we'll have LOTS more to discuss about this fascinating time period. *g*

Susan/Miranda

[RevMelinda]

Here's a shout out to my favorite Bad Girl, Mary Magdalene--although her "bad girlness" is probably more myth than truth. . .

I love the idea of being a Historical Bad Girl. Especially since I have the jowls, double chin, long nose, straight eyebrows and--er--bountiful flesh of Bad Barb and all those other Historical Portrait types. (Don't know about the druggy eyes though.)

On the other hand, there's probably no shaking one's basic disposition. I probably would have been a Quaker or a Methodist in a bonnet--a dull but Loving Helpmeet to some Upright Clergyman-- instead of a glamorous Bad Girl.

Can't wait to read the book, Susan/Miranda!

[Bonnie]

What an interesting time period you've chosen. I don't know much about this period of English history. I look forward to reading this book!

[Joelle]

Hey, good choice for the cover... Sure that 1660 beauty aren't 2007 one ! I can hardly wait to get a copy to read it !!!!
Love from JOELLE ;)

[Tracy Grant]

What a fabulous post and the book sounds *wonderful*--I remember first reading about Barbara Castlemaine when I wrote a paper on Nell Gwynne in 8th grade. I love 'bad girl" heroines. I always thought Milady di Winter in "The THree Musketeers' was much more interesting than Constance. And Barbara Childe is one of my favorite Georgette Heyer heroines.

[bluecat]

I have to agree with Elizabeth K., Amber in FOREVER AMBER would be my favorite bad girl. She was the first bad girl I read at the age of 12 and now, 26+ years later she is still my favorite. I would love to get a hold of that book and reread it.

[shscott21]

Kalen, San Francisco for RWA next year is a real possibility. My mother's family is originally from Marin County (nobody famous, but back to the '49ers)and I'd like to go back to look up old family history. The conference next summer may be my big excuse/rationlization. :)

Bonnie, Part of the fun of writing about the Restoration is that it's new to most readers. It can be a real challenge as a writer to find something fresh to write in a book set in the English Regency!

Tracy, You beat me to Nell Gwyn with your 8th grade paper (though I wonder what your teacher thought of her as a "subject"!*g*) She's the heroine of my next novel, due out next summer. Just like Barbara, she's hard to resist...

Bluecat, I STILL remember Amber, too, plus the movie version with Linda Darnell, which was all Hot Stuff for me to discover in middle school. There's a new edition of the book out now, a big, elegant trade paperback that's trying hard to make Amber upscale -- but WE love her for the hussy she was.*G*

Susan/Miranda

[Kathy Kremer]

Hope I'm not too late for a comment- my favorite "bad girl" is Jessica Rabbit. She's not really bad; she's only drawn that way. ;-)

[Ranurgis]

Ah, I would have liked to know that you were giving away "The Royal Harlot". But at the moment, I keep my computer for what is absolutely necessary. I have it on for 5 minutes and it conks out: either freezing or having the screen go blank.

I honestly can't say that I enjoyed Sarah Churchill's book in the true meaning of the word. It was heart-wrenching to experience the deaths of so many children both Sarah's and especially Anne's as well as all the others who were ravaged by diseases. While I was reading it, I remembered a play I saw on TV while I lived in Germany during the 1970s. I was trying to remember the plot. I think it concerned the Marshams and their view of Sarah's hold on Anne. Thirty-odd years ago is a long time to try to remember a plot. I can't remember if John Churchill was even in the play. Knowing myself, I've probably got the title written down somewhere. But it's certainly amazing what people could do to obtain favors. I suppose in many quarters that is still the same. The true story of Anne and the Churchills sounds no different than that of many modern books or gossip magazines. How heart-breaking it must have been for Anne to go through all these pregnancies--I think it was 13 or so--and have not one of them survive to maturity.

But I definitely found it interesting and well-written. I was just trying to figure out how it works with the females being allowed to carry on the title of duchess in their own right. Would their husbands then become dukes?

Not being allowed into Blenheim Palace was one of the biggest disappointments of the coach trip I took with a group from Germany for a 3-week tour from London to Culloden Field. I can't remember why we couldn't go through Blenheim; perhaps because of some restoration project. That was, I think, in 1971 or 1972.

We were also to see Balmoral Castle but one of the Royals was in residence so we hiked up a hill instead.

I'm now waiting for Castlemaine's book. I've got a hold on the book when it's processed by the library.