'Splendid ... her book does justice to a fascinating woman who was tragic, brave, likable, humorous, and indeed, unruly' Spectator 'Written with elegance, wit and a narrative zest that novelists might envy' Economist At the heart of the extravagant Regency period – nine scandalous, politically fascinating years from 1811 to 1820 – lies the bitter mismatch between the Prince and Princess of Wales. The Prince Regent, later George IV, separated privately from Caroline of Brunswick within a year of their marriage in 1795. The couple remained separated until Queen Caroline's death in 1821, but the mockery of their marriage resisted the most strenuous efforts to dissolve it. Barred from the Regent's court, Queen Caroline travelled through Europe with a small court of her own. The story of The Unruly Queen – a long, courageous fight by an extraordinary individual to see justice done in the face of overbearing authority – is compellingly told by Flora Fraser. This astonishing book culminates with the Queen's House of Lords trial for adultery and exclusion from her bigamous husband's coronation.

Traces the early nineteenth-century adultery trial of Queen Caroline, describing her loveless arranged marriage to George IV, their mutual separation and affairs with other people, and the public's riotous defense of Caroline.

It was Lady Jersey, the calculating mistress of the foppish George IV, who chose Caroline, Princess of Brunswick, to become George's wife. She selected a woman 'with indelicate manners . . . and not very inviting appearance', and George, who hadn't taken the precaution of meeting his wife before marrying her, was suitably disgusted. In 1797, just three years after their marriage, the couple separated with George writing to his wife that neither of them should 'be held answerable to the other'. Caroline took him at his word and proceeded to live exactly as she pleased, departing for Europe and a life of scandalous associations and debauched parties. Rumours of Caroline's lifestyle soon reached George and, although he was no stranger to indiscretion himself, he determined that she would never become Queen. To the shock of the nation, he demanded that Caroline face a trial for adultery. The voice of the popular press in Britain, raised in anger for the first time in Britain, roared in disapproval at her humiliation and Caroline's unlikely role as a heroine of Radical feeling was assured. Jane Robins re-creates this extraordinary morality tale in vivid and entertaining fashion, revealing a little-known story of surprising modernity that sheds new light on a revolution that might have been.

John Clare (1793–1864) has long been recognized as one of England's foremost poets of nature, landscape and rural life. Scholars and general readers alike regard his tremendous creative output as a testament to a probing and powerful intellect. Clare was that rare amalgam ‒ a poet who wrote from a working-class, impoverished background, who was steeped in folk and ballad culture, and who yet, against all social expectations and prejudices, read and wrote himself into a grand literary tradition. All the while he maintained a determined sense of his own commitments to the poor, to natural history and to the local. Through the diverse approaches of ten scholars, this collection shows how Clare's many angles of critical vision illuminate current understandings of environmental ethics, aesthetics, Romantic and Victorian literary history, and the nature of work.

This book explores the relationship between Queen Caroline, one of the most enigmatic characters in Regency England, and Sir William Gell, the leading classical scholar of his day. Despised and rejected by her husband, Caroline created a sphere and court of her own through patronage of scholarship. The primary beneficiary was Gell, a pioneering scholar of the classical world who opened new dimensions in the study of ancient Troy, mainland Greece, and Ithaca. Despite his achievements, Gell had scarce financial resources. Support from Caroline enabled him to establish himself in Italy and conduct his seminal work about ancient Rome and, especially, Pompeii, until her sensational trial before the House of Lords and premature death. Concluding with the first scholarly transcription of the extraordinary series of letters that Caroline wrote to Gell, this volume illuminates how Caroline sought power through patronage, and how Gell shaped classical scholarship in nineteenth-century Britain.

Today we associate the Renaissance with painting, sculpture, and architecture—the “major” arts. Yet contemporaries often held the “minor” arts—gem-studded goldwork, richly embellished armor, splendid tapestries and embroideries, music, and ephemeral multi-media spectacles—in much higher esteem. Isabella d’Este, Marchesa of Mantua, was typical of the Italian nobility: she bequeathed to her children precious stone vases mounted in gold, engraved gems, ivories, and antique bronzes and marbles; her favorite ladies-in-waiting, by contrast, received mere paintings. Renaissance patrons and observers extolled finely wrought luxury artifacts for their exquisite craftsmanship and the symbolic capital of their components; paintings and sculptures in modest materials, although discussed by some literati, were of lesser consequence. This book endeavors to return to the mainstream material long marginalized as a result of historical and ideological biases of the intervening centuries. The author analyzes how luxury arts went from being lofty markers of ascendancy and discernment in the Renaissance to being dismissed as “decorative” or “minor” arts—extravagant trinkets of the rich unworthy of the status of Art. Then, by re-examining the objects themselves and their uses in their day, she shows how sumptuous creations constructed the world and taste of Renaissance women and men.