The Unofficial British Royal Family Pages

Wednesday 4 August 2004

Growing Up 'Royal'

This weekend, Lady Davina Windsor, elder daughter of Their Royal Highnesses, The Duke and Duchess of Gloucester, traipsed happily down the aisle to meet her handsome New Zealander,  Gary Lewis.  They made a very good-looking couple, Davina with her Viking colouring and Gary with his dark, brooding Maori looks.  They also looked very, very happy which, as well as being nice to see is rather reassuring.  I am somewhat scarred these days and am still not able to look at any Windsor related wedding, without covering one eye with one hand and gnawing the fingernails on the other. 

I did, however, ponder on two aspects of the marriage.  Firstly, I wondered what Queen Victoria would have thought of the union, one of her own marrying a surfing, ex shearer and builder, from the colonies.  Would she have been amused?  I think so.  For her time, she was somewhat progressive and most definitely an advocate of love in marriage.  Once, when certain royalty in Germany protested about one of her family’s marriages because of the groom’s tainted family background, she more or less said that if the groom was good enough for the Queen of England, he was good enough for everyone else! 

My second thought concerned these children of the minor members of the royal family.  If one had to be ‘royal’, being a child of one of the minor royal members would be, at least for me, the best option.  You may or may not get a title but you do get to enjoy a rather good life. 

The press might keep you on their ‘watch list’ up until your funeral, but unless you do something very wrong, they’re unlikely to pay any attention to you, or interfere in your life much.  And, even if you whop a parking inspector in the nose, or arrive drunk at a royal gathering at St Paul’s, chances are that you’ll go from front page to page four, if there’s some sort of world calamity, like a brawl at the football.  

The reason for this is that you, by and large, earn your own money.  Theoretically, you’re one of the masses. The world is at your feet – so to speak. Having the Queen listed in the personal referee section of your curriculum vitae looks tremendous, and your boss wouldn’t dare criticise you for taking the afternoon off to go and wave from the balcony of Buckingham Palace if you’re invited to the Queen’s birthday. He or she might even give you a bonus for it. 

You also stand a better chance of not stuffing your life up too much like some of your relatives further up the ladder.  The pressures you face are pretty much the same as anyone else, excepting, of course, a no doubt considerable amount of curiosity from people that you meet.  The papers wouldn’t be full of articles bemoaning your poor fashion sense and, if you really didn’t like the modern extension of the historic building housing the Department of Useless Information, you could actually say, “That’s bloody ugly!” 

Of course, to a great degree, it would be assumed that you would behave in a certain way. But, even then, if you’re prepared to train those around you, you can even get past that hurdle.  For that, you would have to thank the first in this modern generation to break out of the mould, Marina Ogilvy.  The daughter of HRH Princess Alexandra of Kent and Sir Angus Ogilvy, Marina felt that way herself and became pregnant to the chap she was seeing at the time and later married. 

Predictably, the newspapers were horrified, as were, it may be assumed, many of their readers.  Of all the people in the royal family, the elegant, beautiful, almost Imperial, Princess Alexandra had to contend with the shock that her daughter had been ‘knocked up’, a shock frequently shared by many other unsuspecting parents around the world.  Marina, despite public (and no doubt private) criticism, was insistent that she would lead her own life.   She said that she was not royalty and that she would stand by her boyfriend.  At great cost, she got her way, although it was some time before the Ogilvy family healed their rift. 

Years later, Marina again came under attack for claiming social security benefits.  The media was incredulous.  How could the daughter of a Princess - a member of the Royal Family - be entitled to such a payment!  Perhaps because she was a single mother, not a member of the royal family and an adult, independent of her parents?  Had there been a clause in the application form stating, ‘Are you or have you been or have either of your parents ever been, a member of the Royal Family?’, Marina would have been in trouble. 

I don’t know what Marina is doing now, nor do I know if, apart from her children, she regrets any of the decisions she made in her early adulthood.  If she does, I hope that she doesn’t dwell on them everyday.  She should take solace in knowing that she has actually helped her peers in the family.  Her experiences helped clear a path for those who are brought up in the same way she was, like Lady Davina. 

The pregnancy without a wedding ring, the application to social security and the period of being ostracised by her family, made it clear to everyone that being royal goes only so far down the ladder.  Those under the cut off are, in fact, much like the rest of us.  What choices and decisions they make in their lives should be their own, just as the consequences of these choices will be theirs to accept.   

Where they are a bit luckier than the rest of us, is that somewhere along the way there will probably be some rather remarkable invitations arrive in the mail.  But, even they come at a cost, albeit one they are unlikely ever to have to pay.  Affixed next to their name is a number.  Lady Davina Lewis n�e Windsor is currently number twenty.  Should plague wipe out numbers one to nineteen, HM Queen Davina and her consort, Prince Gary, will be very glad that they had a few years of freedom riding those waves. 

- Gioffredo