784 pages, Viking, ISBN-13: 978-1984879264
I have read two other biographies by Andrew Roberts: Napoleon: A Life, reviewed on April 13th, 2015 and Churchill: Walking with Destiny, reviewed on February 8th, 2019, and both were absolutely brilliant. So when I saw his work The Last King of America: The Misunderstood Reign of George III on Barnes & Noble’s remnants shelves – brand new for EIGHT BUCKS! – well you just know I had to have it, knowing full well that I would get as complete and exhaustive – though not exhausting – biography of the Tyrant Who Lost America as one could get. And, naturally, I was right. Roberts is one of those authors whose books I would buy just on his name alone with the subject matter coming a close second; besides, being more familiar with the American Revolution from my side of the ocean, I thought it would be no bad thing to get the other, British side of the story of the same.
First things first: Roberts tries mightily to disprove that George was a tyrant while simultaneously admitting (under duress, perhaps) that his policies were a “colossal disaster” that left Britain with “vast debts, powerful enemies, no allies and even neutral powers united in hostility”. But tyrannical? Perish the thought. One way in which he attempts to defend the king is to show that the Colonists objected to policies and customs that subjects of other monarchs would not have found at all oppressive – which is moot at best, for the Colonists, as proper Englishmen all, correctly pointed out that said policies violated their rights as members in good standing of the empire. The rights or not of subjects of other nations have nothing to do with it. Furthermore, said policies were an intended hardening of the relatively lax taxation scheme and, thus, resistance to the same should have been foreseen.
Under Robert’s pen, George III is a really nice guy who was smart and accomplished, but who was also extremely political and capable of holding petty grudges. Under the unwritten British constitution, George’s greatest powers were to choose the men who ran the government and to distribute royal patronage in the form of titles and lucrative sinecures, and he wielded this power without compromise or remorse, though his selection of ministers was decidedly spotty. While he could be progressive when it came to the arts, music and architecture, he was much less so when it came to changes in British society. He was traditional to the core and a stickler for protocol, especially among the aristocracy; his and their inability to see the changes occurring in British society with the Industrial Revolution and understand the complaints of the Colonists in the New World are much to blame for their eventual Revolution.
Roberts gives us an enlightening insight into the role that American propaganda played in rallying the Colonists to war – including, in his opinion, the Declaration of Independence, a document that is rather more than mere “propaganda”, thank you very much. As a Yank I found his point-by-point refutation of Jefferson’s and the Colonist’s complaints about Britain and the King a touch over-the-top, and it’s not the only place where the author comes off as defending his subject a bit too vociferously, if you ask me. However, it does drive home his point about how out-of-touch British leaders were when it came to the progressive growth in the Americas and how if, just possibly, other leaders (and another King?) had been at the helm of the British ship of State at the time of the Revolution then things may just have taken a different turn – ah, what historian, professional and amateur alike, doesn’t like to play “What If”?
“It takes many good deeds to build a good reputation, and only one bad one to lose it” said Benjamin Franklin, while Thomas Paine called him “a wicked tyrannical brute” and Thomas Jefferson (in the Declaration of Independence) said his character was “marked by every act which may define a tyrant”. Roberts tries hard to redeem his subject in the eyes of history and succeeds a little – but not entirely. Reading The Last King of America put me in mind of Shakespeare’s Hamlet (Act 3, Scene 2) when Gertrude, in response to how she likes the play, says “[t]he lady does protest too much, methinks”. As does Roberts, methinks.
