We’re at the finale, and George is being just the worst. Remember when he was mopey, emo George? Now he’s “toss his long hair back and proclaim he is England” George, and it’s just not a good look. Well, I’m still undecided about long hair. Does it work for him? Would everything work for Nicholas Galitzine because of his face? Yes.
It’s very weird watching a historical drama and experiencing the dramatic irony of knowing how this will all end. Tiny Charles is going to be beheaded by his own people in about 20 years, but in the meantime, he’s singing a song to the Spanish infanta to win her over and thereby establish prolonged peace between England and Spain. He does win her over, but Spain’s negotiator is then, like, “Wait, did you think that’s how we were settling this? You’d sing, and then we’re all set?”
I’m going to confess that I had to watch George’s interactions with the negotiator twice in order to understand how royally he fucked up. The first time, I was like, “Well, I guess this is how you negotiate a royal marriage — threaten their representative while he’s at prayer.” This is why I’m never asked to handle dynastic alliances. After Spain enters the negotiations by saying Charles will have to convert to Catholicism, George practices the delicate art of diplomacy and tact by saying no, absolutely not, never. That’s how you do it, George. Start things off with a solid “We refuse to even temporarily table that topic.” So the Spanish delegation all get up and leave, negotiation over. Another stunning win for George.
Then George is like, wait, I know how to fix this screwup, and he approaches the negotiator while he’s praying alone at an altar. Sure, he doesn’t seem busy. First, George tries to bribe the negotiator, and when the guy says he’s not about all that, George tells him that “those who defy me regret it.” REALLY, George? Who talks like that? Villains? (George is in his villainous Villiers era.) He then compounds this by telling the negotiator, “I will destroy you, your whole sorry, fucking country” and “I am the power, I am the king, I am England.”
Again, the first time I saw this, I was like, sure, okay, guess that’s how they handled things back then.
So … the worst thing the negotiator did was refuse to take a bribe and call George “boy,” which George then tells Charles the negotiator said about Charles. Hey, George, how about you write a book called How to Lose Negotiations and Influence No One? George’s big public-relations spin on these incredibly failed talks is to go back to England and talk about how the Spanish never intended for these talks to be fruitful; they were just being super-mean, and George and Charles acted like heroes the entire time. James believes this for literally zero seconds.
But what’s going on with James? He’s still sick, George and Charles are gone, and Mary knows about Sandie’s murder, so she is understandably pissed off-slash-emotionally wrecked. Before seeing James, Mary goes to see Bacon. If anyone doesn’t know why Bacon is wearing a metal noseguard, it’s because he has syphilis, and syphilis can essentially make your nose fall off. You may have seen this in the film The Libertine, which is about the truly awful Earl of Rochester (not sexy awful, just awful awful). Mary threatens Bacon with a knife, then says his life is a better punishment, which is a sick burn. Bacon responds to Mary, semi-explaining his murderous actions by saying that Mary and George squat upon Bacon’s life like defecating imps. I will miss those kinds of lines now that the series is over.
Bacon informs Mary that George not only allowed the murder of Sandie but encouraged it, to which Mary is very “No, not my George!” But she knows better, really, so off she goes to ingratiate herself with the sequestered James! His doctor says no visitors, but she’s Mary, so she fakes a carriage accident and hitches a ride in James’s carriage instead, then gets him to swap out doctors and quit drinking. This stops James’s “fits” and leaves him more clear-eyed about George’s behavior.
George obviously hates this, so he and Charles finagle things to get Mary away from James for a minute, and George walks with James into the woods, where he has set up … curtains? Forest curtains. And a bed and a desk. These are going to get absolutely ruined if, by any chance, it ever rains in famously sunny England. George also gives James alcohol, which, boooo. You are the worst, George. James calls it heaven, and when George says, “Almost,” I get John Denver stuck in my head and he refuses to come out. James tells George to “fuck me alive again,” which I’m pretty sure is by Evanescence.
George’s clever ploys of alcohol, sex, and forest draperies have gotten James back on his side, and James sends George to London to make a speech in front of Parliament about how they will make a show of strength for Spain. George interprets this to mean that he should make a shout-y, warmongering speech where he calls Spain the devil, which Parliament loves. But then Mary rats him out to James (appropriate behavior; I would also do this), and James burns down his impractical forest retreat. Somehow, the curtains are not so sodden with rain that they can’t catch on fire. A true miracle.
George shows up just in time to rescue James from the fire (kind of). James’s extreme reaction makes sense because they have no standing army and almost no ships equipped for war, and yet they’re going up against a massive European power because George felt insulted by one guy. James rages that he made himself “rex pacificat” and George is going to be the cause of “needless fields of blood” because of his own selfishness. This is all so valid. James accuses George of being a traitor, and then Mary, who’s been standing there this whole time, quickly starts trying to walk things back. But it is too late! Amid the smoke and fire, James strips George of his titles and lands and says that George will hang for treason. Then James passes out from smoke inhalation.
What happens next is truly batshit. I thought that knowing the broad strokes of history would shield me from any plot surprises, but this was a naïve assumption about the show’s commitment to historical accuracy. I absolutely did not predict any of this. George carries James back to his room and sends Charles for the doctor; when James comes to, George smothers him with his own hands. It’s very upsetting! And Mary just STANDS there. So George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, has murdered the king and he just gets away with it. OR DOES HE? (I mean, technically, he does.)
We flash-forward to 1628 for the last five minutes of the series. George is drinking in a tavern. We gather that he’s led multiple military expeditions, and absolutely none of them have gone well. He’s about to embark on another one. He chats with a man in the tavern about these failures and is cavalier about all the men who have died serving under him. George tries to bang this man because, sure, why not? Then the man very suddenly STABS him in the stomach, saying it’s for his lost friends, and leaves George to die on the floor of the tavern. I have no regrets about George being dead! He made terrible decisions and was not nice. Sure, he’s pretty, but a lot of nicer people are also pretty.
The series ends with a shot of Mary looking over what remains of her family as they all dine together. John and Frances are somehow still together, and Frances is pregnant; Kit is there (yay); Jenny, the servant, is there (remember Jenny?); Susan is back; George’s widow and her children are there; and then there is George’s empty chair. Mary looks at the camera, and we’re done.
So what do we think? I choose not to interpret this as one of those tired, “Wow, so you got what you wanted; was it worth it?” moments because, you know what, yeah, maybe it was. It’s not like Mary’s sad and alone. I mean, maybe she is sad, but she’s rich, which she wanted; most of her family is taken care of, which she wanted; and yeah, George was stabbed, but he was being a real asshole (note: I do not condone stabbing). Yes, Mary might be emotionally isolated now, but that’s kind of the cost of being as ruthless as she has been, and she probably had some inkling of that going into all this. At the end of her machinations, the men have all fallen, and Mary is still standing.
