Royals Marrying their Subjects

There are many who object to royals marrying their subjects. Their views are misguided, argues FQR’s dyed-in-the-wool royalist Alexander von Schönburg

Many of my fellow snobs strained facial muscles raising their eyebrows when it was announced that Sweden’s Crown Princess Victoria is to marry her fitness instructor. The indignation is unnecessary for various reasons. For one, the reigning house of Sweden is not “royal” in the strictest sense of the word. The last true royals to rule over Sweden were the family of Gustav III, who was assassinated at a masked ball in 1792 (which, of course, served as an inspiration for one of Verdi’s most wonderful operas). His son, Gustav IV Adolf, was ill fated and, after a coup d’état, abdicated in 1809. Today’s king is the descendant of a certain Jean-Baptiste Bernadotte, formerly Napoleon’s Marshal of France, who was elected heir to the Swedish throne in 1810. So for a princess of such flimsy genealogical background to marry her fitness instructor is not quite such a calamity. Furthermore, how pointless would it be for a Swedish Crown Princess to marry, say, the Crown Prince of Norway if their offspring cannot even inherit Norway as a result?

Royals now tend to marry for love – and this can be very tricky. The trouble with marrying commoners is that in this day and age people tend to grow up firmly believing in their right to pursue their happiness. This is precisely the thing one can forget about when living as a royal, with all the tedious duties this entails. It is not surprising that young girls who marry royalty develop eating disorders at some point. (Girls of more aristocratic stock, on the other hand, are taught early on that unhappiness is the normal state of affairs.) Marrying one’s own subjects has also proved to be particularly problematic. The Russian court once banned the marrying of Russians altogether because the in-laws and their relatives often made themselves all too comfortable at court, where they were resented by their former peers for their new-found status and regularly turned out to be a source of embarrassment to the court. It is wise to keep one’s in-laws as far away as possible. When marrying a commoner, it is generally a good idea to choose one with a more exotic background (which is what the heir to the throne of Denmark opted for when he married Mary, a marketing consultant from Australia).

On the bright side, the marriage policy of today’s ruling houses is nothing short of the fulfilment of a dream deeply woven into the fabric of our heritage. The fairy tale of Cinderella, told and retold over generations, is finally a reality. Today the golden carriage literally stops in front of a kindergarten or a supermarket, one of clutch of pretty young girls (if possible, not too pretty!) is pulled out and, pursued by a lightning storm of flashlights (the modern form of anointment), is transformed into a royal princess. From then on she lives the existence of a sacred cow, idolised by the masses – a life totally devoid of privacy.

In many ways one could argue that royal marriages are today what they have always been: strategic alliances. Apart from the tiny principality of Liechtenstein, all of Europe’s Crown Princes are married, engaged or seem likely to become engaged to commoners. Are modern monarchies safeguarding their survival in the 21st century by bowing to today’s powers that be – the masses? The general public in Britain would certainly find it offputting if Prince William were suddenly to decide to marry one of the many “suitable” Continental princesses rather than his current girlfriend, Kate Middleton, with her reassuringly middle-class background, which makes it so delightfully easy for Queen Elizabeth’s subjects to identify with her. Traditionalists who lament the alleged harm done to the dignity of royal traditions fail to acknowledge that the lordliness of kingship is such that it cannot be harmed by such trivial matters as a choice of bride. Arguably Europe’s most august kings, the Merovingians, were mostly married to healthy maidservants of Franconian stock, having shunned all the girls with more elite Roman backgrounds left behind by the former occupiers. And did it do any harm to the grandeur of the Byzantine emperors that they occasionally married circus artistes (Theodora, the wife of Emperor Justinian I)? Or did it make any difference to the majesty of the Russian Empire that a peasant’s daughter like Marta Skavronska (later better known as Catherine I) sat on its throne?

Yeah-but-no-but… As for the new royal couple in Sweden, it is unlikely that this is going to be a bed of roses. Even though we apparently live in an age of gender equality, it is still fine for the female spouse of a royal to live as wife and mother, perhaps involved in various charities, but otherwise expected to do no more than to cut the odd ribbon. Yet the male spouse is in a quandary. With the military rarely a voluntary option today (unless the male spouse is already serving), he risks public censure for sitting around apparently doing nothing if he gives up his job. If he continues his business he will quickly be accused by a hostile press or professional rival of “taking advantage” of his new position. It is an unenviable job and a predictable consequence of the determination to do away with male priority succession. Whatever he does, the attendant criticism that will emanate from a mean-spirited press will haunt him. They always turn against their favourites in the end. That is the nature of contemporary fairy tales.

- Alexander von Schönburg, head of the house of Schönburg-Glauchau in Germany, has just published a delightful book on the theory of kingship which is unavailable in English (but will soon, to all our delight, be available in Russian and French). He is the newphew of the Marbella Club’s legendary Count Rudi von Schönburg

One Response

1. Benjamin Says:
   October 10th, 2009 at 4:52 pm

   While I enjoyed this piece, I wonder whether someone who is “head of the house of Schönburg-Glauchau” can be a snob in the traditional sense of the word, which seems to be used more in reference to uppity commoners such as myself.

   I was surprised to discover, from the guide to king-spotting, that my father, born of school teachers in rural America, is royalty.

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