I’ve been interested in France’s Bourbon kings for some years now and, overall, I enjoyed this biography, which is aimed at the general reader.

After opening with the bloodlines that lead to the founding of the Bourbon Dynasty, each subsequent chapter focuses on the respective monarchs.

I was already quite familiar with Henri IV, and he’s a colourful individual, but the section on him in this book was the least engaging. Owing to the limited space in a biography of this scope, the author was by necessity compelled to condense a lot of material. As a result, you get a lot of dates, names, titles, and battles thrown at you, and I found it somewhat tedious.

The next section on Louis XIII is much more entertaining. I only knew the basics about him before reading this, so I found out a lot of things I didn’t know, such as his mother beating him regularly and treating him like dirt during his childhood, which mentally scarred Louis throughout his life.

The next section covers Louis XIV’s illustrious reign. This king I did previously know a lot about, so not that much info was new to me; however, it still makes for engaging reading. One thing I did learn was that champagne wasn’t fizzy until the early 1700s.

I did spot one factual error in this part: in referring briefly to the Affair of the Poisons, the author mentions that it started with Madame de Brinvilliers's arrest in 1679, when in reality she was arrested and executed in 1676.

Next up is pleasure-loving Louis XV, of whom it turned out I didn’t know as well as I thought I did until reading this book. For instance, I never knew he suffered from shyness – I always thought he was plain selfish. He wasn’t shy on his wedding night, when – aged 15 – he made love to his older wife SEVEN times! He was an interesting man, even if he wasn’t the most effective king.

Louis XV’s section also features his most noteworthy mistress Madame de Pompadour, whom I’ve been fascinated by for years. I’ve read her memoirs and a bio about her, and Mr Seward also recognises her worth. I like how, in general, the author shows compassion for the people he’s writing about, such as referring to Madame de Pompadour as “the poor woman” when she was seriously ill.

Another fascinating consort appears in Louis XVI’s section, namely Marie-Antoinette, who’s story I know very well. Both she and Louis XVI are the French rulers whom I'm most familiar with out of all France’s monarchs. Louis was a kind and generous *man* but a weak and ineffective *king*. He called his subjects his “children” and strove to do right by them, and in return the bastards murdered him. I’ve read about this several times, and it never fails to deeply sadden me.

Same applies to Marie-Antoinette. Yes, at first she was frivolous, but as soon as she became a mother, she changed. She was never cruel, though, unlike the people who were obsessed with blackening her name, making her the most hated person in France. The “Let them eat cake” line is an example of the many lies told about her – no way would she have said that. My heart aches every time I read about her final years, as it did again in this bio.

Her son Louis XVII, who features in the next short section, had it significantly worse. This poor boy, who never got to rule, was treated worse than any animal when he was aged between eight and ten. I didn’t know much about him until a read a bio about him last year. Desmond Seward covers the basics, which is enough to convey the abject misery that this formerly cheerful little boy was subjected to. His final two years are heartbreaking to read about.

Next, we’re on to less depressing times with Louis XVIII. He was a cold man but an effective king; however, he couldn’t be as effective a ruler coming in after the Revolution as he would’ve been before it. Had Louis XVI abdicated in favour of Louis XVIII, it’s arguably that the Revolution would’ve been averted, or at least not have been as bad, with the Bourbon Dynasty coming out of it on top. This is a king who’s usually overshadowed by Napoleon, though for my tastes, as brilliant a general as Napoleon was, I prefer reading about Louis XVIII.

The last ruling Bourbon was Charles X, of whom I knew very little before reading this bio, except for when he was known as the Comte d’Artois during Louis XVI’s reign. He comes across as an easy-going guy, and a decent king, though the times were against him. It’s a sad end to the Bourbon Dynasty, but at least he abdicated, as opposed to being murdered.

Finally, we have a short section on someone I’d never heard of: “Henri V”. His title is in quote marks because he never ruled. The same applies to poor Louis XVII, but this time it was different. No more come-backs were on the cards, and nobody except for a few hopefuls like Henri himself believed in another Bourbon restoration. This section in theory could’ve been cut without making any difference to the book’s main topic, but it makes for an interesting epilogue.

The one thing I dislike about the book is that occasionally we get untranslated French, like:

“He described him as ‘un des gentilhommes du monde le plus franc et mieux intentionné et le plus attaché à la personne de M. le Protecteur’.”

Or:

“In 1638 he wrote pathetically to the Cardinal, ‘la créature est toujours en mauvaise humeur contre moi.’”

Although I’m pro-language learning, when I read a book written in English, I expect it to be just that, otherwise I’m locked out of the narrative, which is something a good author should never allow to happen.

Apart from the above criticism, “The Bourbon Kings of France” was on the whole a very good read. A little dry at times, perhaps, but it features a very engaging subject matter. ( )