Babies Are the Royal We

To TRH the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge...

Congratulations!

♚   Soon-to-be parents of a new royal bambino!   ♔
And for the first time, the baby, whether boy or girl, will be the Heir Apparent, the next in line after Charles and Wills! And so the United Kingdom joins Sweden, Norway and four other European monarchies in overturning male-preference primogeniture.  Cool Britannia!

Crown Princess Victoria of Sweden says 'BOUT TIME, GUISE.

Primogeniture of course is the idea that the succession is determined by birth order--with male primogeniture, brothers automatically supplant their sisters, and subsequent children supplant their aunts and uncles. It can be HELLISHLY confusing to figure out the line of succession, so here are the current standings :

1) Charles, Prince of Wales (b. 1948)

followed by his children...

2) Prince William, Duke of Cambridge
3) Prince Harry of Wales

and then followed by Charles's next brother...

4) Prince Andrew, Duke of York (b. 1960)
5) Princess Beatrice of York
6) Princess Eugenie of York

followed by the youngest brother...

7) Prince Edward, Earl of Wessex (b. 1964)
8) James, Viscount Severn
9) Lady Louise Windsor

and finally Anne and her two children bring up the rear...

10) Anne, The Princess Royal (b. 1950)
11) Peter Phillips
12) Zara Phillips

BOLD = Children of Queen Elizabeth. Note how Anne is last after her brothers and their children, even though she is the second oldest [and most badass] of her generation.

If we want to go beyond this--that is, beyond the children and grandchildren of the current Queen, we would then follow her younger sister's line, that of Princess Margaret. Even though she is dead, her two children's [and their children's] places in the line of succession remain. This system can be followed indefinitely--once you've exhausted the current generational crop, you just go back a generation [in this case, to that of Elizabeth and Margaret's father] and start following the descendants of all those siblings. Which explains how back in 1727 when Queen Anne died with no immediate suitable [i.e., Protestant] heir**, they finally tracked down the next candidate, an elderly German who didn't speak any English, and dragged him from Hanover to London to slap the crown on his head. YOU CAN RUN BUT YOU CAN'T HIDE.

It is fascinating to remember that for all magnitude of Elizabeth's reign [and she is very close to surpassing Victoria's record as the longest-reigning British monarch]...

...she almost certainly never would've been Queen had she had even one brother. Once Elizabeth's father, King George VI, ascended the throne, Elizabeth was the next in line, the heir--but since she was a girl, she was the Heiress Presumptive who might still be replaced. Other Heir Presumptives include the current Prince Harry, who is currently next in line after Wills--but only until next summer when Wills becomes a father. [At which point Harry will be heard cackling with relief and ordering rounds of shots and strippers...In other words, a typical Saturday night!]

Part of the fun of anticipating babies are the NAMES. Aloysius? Guy Clarence? Oscar Zoroaster Phadrig Isaac Norman Henkel Emmannuel Ambroise Diggs? No such luck--with Baby Wales, tradition and protocol will prevail. In general English names are not exactly trendy...

...there is a comfortingly historical familiarity to the Eleanors, Matildas and Isabellas that dot the lists.  And our new prince or princess will have an especially small and traditional pool of allowable monikers***--for a girl, look for first names like Mary, Elizabeth, Charlotte, Victoria, Alexandra, Catherine [I am personally pulling for Alice or Margaret]. Diana, for obvious reasons, is a possible middle name. For a boy, Edward, George, Frederick and Albert are possibilities. [Arthur and John, however, are considered bad luck within the royal family--they can be middle names but not first.]

So congratulations on your Blessed Event, Kate and William!  Take it easy girl, get off your feet, and don't be afraid to have that glass of wine every now and then.  Oh, and when's the baby shower again?  My invitation seems to have been lost in the mail...

*Technically the only Heir Apparent right now is Charles--I'm using the term rather casually for the purposes of explicating the rules of succession. Once Charles ascends to the throne, William becomes the next Heir Apparent, and so on.

**In fact poor Anne had no living direct descendants at all when she died--she suffered through 17 pregnancies, and every one of them miscarried or died young.

***Princess Anne was allowed to get away with naming her daughter Zara because she's so far down in the line of succession. And also because she's, well, Anne.

The Wedding of a Prince

I’ve been buried in end-of-year activities (papers, proctoring, studying for finals), hence my sparse updates—but now that the semester is over I couldn’t let any more time pass without offering my congratulations to the new Duke and Duchess of Cambridge!  William was awarded his new title (along with Earl of Strathearn and Baron Carrickfergus—since his birth territorial designation is of Wales, the Queen is invoking the UK superfecta, apparently) by his grandmother the Queen.


As I watched the ceremony, it occurred to me that the funeral of the Princess of Wales had also taken place at Westminster Abbey--and perhaps the most vivid memories some of us have of Princes William and Harry are from that day.

• Those silent crowds throwing flower after flower onto the limousine.
• The princes' long, dreadful, brave march behind their mother’s cortege, accompanied by their father, grandfather and uncle Earl Spencer.  Imagine being 12, 15 years old--and having the cameras of the world on you as you are walking behind your mother's coffin.  Unbelievable.
• The envelope in front of the lilies, with "Mummy" in shaky handwriting.
• The spontaneous applause, like a fire crackling against the windows of the Abbey, from the crowds outside after Earl Spencer's philippic against the Royal family and the media.
• That beautiful hymn, Diana's favorite, "I Vow to Thee My Country."

Strange days, that first week in September 1997.  At the time, I felt that the Queen had had a verrrrry close call—I remember seeing those anguished British tabloid headlines begging for some kind of response.  WHERE IS OUR QUEEN?  WHERE IS HER FLAG?  The Queen initially responded to Diana's death by not responding--by retreating into her estate up north, forgetting that, as C.S. Lewis said, the monarch is not "a private person" and that she owed her people...something more than protocol.  They clearly wanted, needed something more.  The Russian peasants used to call their Tsar and Tsaritsa батюшка and мамочка --Little Father and Little Mother, recognizing the mystical, familial, parental bond between ruler and subject.

SHOW US YOU CARE.  Doesn't get much more direct than that.

The movie The Queen used the events of that week to explore the issues faced by a modern monarchy--in this era, the constitutional monarchy is a construct, an edifice of unspoken understanding between tradition and the people, and the modern ruler forgets that at her peril.  Neither Henry VIII, the most absolute of British kings, nor his great-great-grandnephew Charles I, whose execution ushered in the Commonwealth for a time--Elizabeth II's reign is the latest incarnation of that balancing act that reinvents itself every generation.  “Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown” indeed.


Of course Westminster Abbey is riddled with nuptial history—many, many royal weddings [including those of: the Duke of York (uncle to William and Harry); the Princess Royal (their aunt); Princess Margaret (their great-aunt); and the Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh] have taken place there.  The princes' parents Charles and Diana, however, were wed at St. Paul’s over on the other, older side of town, closer to the financial district and Roman Londinium.  Other than The Wedding of the Century, St. Paul's is perhaps most famously known for its mention in the iconic Disney song "Feed the Birds."  Early each day, on the steps of St. Paul's/The little old bird woman comes...

The current St. Paul's (A on the map) was designed by Sir Christopher Wren after the Great Fire of London in 1666 that cleaned out most of the East End--but also finally eradicated the Plague that had reappeared every generation or so since the Black Death.

This semester, I wrote a paper for class on Prince William’s predecessor, William the Conqueror (or the Norman, or the Bastard—he had a plethora of sobriquets from which to choose).  William I is a direct ancestor of our Wills and was actually crowned at the Abbey some two months after he led his Norman troops to victory over the Anglo-Saxons in the Battle of Hastings.  And nearly a thousand years later his namesake stood in that historic sanctuary, pledging his troth to his bride, intoning the ancient Christian responses, surrounded by the ghosts of kings and queens, poets, soldiers, all hidden in the shadows watching as William Arthur Philip Louis became a man in front of his country and the world.


His mother would have been so proud.


Vivat Rex Guillelmi!