Royals
Ever since 1914 — and probably even before that — the roles of Royals in this modernizing world have been steadily diminishing in their relevance to our life in this world.
It’s been — to use David Crosby’s phrase — a “long time coming.”
In my reading of history and Bible, and going back to the earliest days of my reading, the word “kings” can be found in multiple verses.
The earliest of my memory, in the biblical context, was not called “king”, but “pharoh. And inn that same ancient history vein, the many kings mentioned in biblical books: Nebuchadnezzar, Cyrus, and later of course the kings of Israel. . . Saul, David, Solomon, and so on.
By the time Jesus was born, King Herod was ruling the Hebraic kingdom, but under the shadow of HIS overlord, Emperor Caesar in Rome.
When Jesus was crucified by the powers that be in Jerusalem, his death , itself, was terminated when he resurrected three days later.
And if you believe that, I’ve got some real estate in heaven I’ll tell you about.
The Bible affirmation of his life, especially regarding that mysterious transformation that we call “death”. . . and resurrection, concludes with Jesus’ second coming, which has not yet happened. He is still honored by myself, and millions of others, as the King of Kings.
But I’ve wandered off my path for today’s topic: I’m thinking today about royals, and generally their place in history. Why? I don’t know. I’m a history freak, and royals play a pretty important part in that big bundle of data.
After the legacy of the King of Kings, the news of his conquest of death, conquest of sin and ultimate Universal authority. . . gave rise to to a system of life that persisted in this world — especially Europe, where the “Catholic”/later Christian, church presented a type of leadership that leaders strived to duplicate for many, many centuries. Hence. . . the monarchies. This strain of leadership strove to provide living arrangements and environs for all of their “subjects”.
Here’s where my long story stops short, like a horse suddenly being halted by the yanking of a bridle.
In the 19th century, most of those monarchies started to unwind. It started with King George III, from whom we Americans discharged ourselves in 1776. A few years later, the French launched their bloody version of our American revolutionary vision and the Declaration thereof.
Blood, royal blood flowed when the Jacobins dropped the guillotine, in Paris, on King Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette. By 1815, the wise men of Europe convened in Vienna to devise some plans by which people might generally start extricating themselves from royal dominance.
That was — the way I see it — the beginning of a long, long unwinding of royal authority and royal function in modern societies. Napolean came along, acting like a king but having no royal birthright. That was a big hit on monarchy. In 1848, there were several revolutionary stirrings by the common folk of Europe. Maybe they were beginning to figure out that they didn’t those uppity royals as much as they had formerly thought they did.
By the time the 20th century rolled around, the royals of Europe were in a deep slide out of true governmental relevance. The Czar of Russia was assassinated. (The current czar is still hanging out in his power trip, and making a big mess of the neighboring nation.)
In 1914, the most extreme dissolution of royal authority in history was inaugurated when Archduke Ferdinand — not even the Austrian emperor yet — was shot in Sarajevo. That was the beginning of a long, long downhill run for royals all over Europe.
Now I’ll cut to the chase with the thoughts that started this musing.
About ten years ago, a very old newspaper crossed my path and I bought it. It was a special issue about Queen Elizabeth’s father, King George VI, as presented by the Times of London, Special Coronation Edition, May 1937,
That ancient, yellowed, tattered tabloid opened up a world of wonder for this American guy who had visited, a time or two, London and Buckingham Palace (from beyond the gate) and Westminster Abbey.
As time rowled by for this Rowland, and my songs of Rowland had been sung, I had, a few years back, diverted my inspiration into writing novels.
I was able, by the time the third novel Smoke, wafted from the keyboard, to publish it, by the grace of God and Amazon KDP.
Now today, I was pondering some of this old history stuff because I happened to view a YouTube about the royal family. It was a fascinating vid to watch, but what I found most interesting about it was that Queen Elizabeth had, in her will, willed her father’s royal sword to Prince Harry.
Her will turned out to be an dispensary expression of her vision — her understanding — that the role of royals in this 21st-century world ain’t what it used to be, because, as brother Bob had sung it, “the times they are a-changin’. And I think she comprehended that the place of her legacy — primarily her family — in this world, would from this time hence be. . . well . . . who knows. . . to say the least, not what it used to be.
I mean, she gave Harry her father’s sword. What does that tell you?
I’ll consolidate what appears to be the late Queen’s legacy with some royal wisdom composed by a fab four group who had, back in the day, greatly enriched merry old England with their immense music fortune, that fab four from Liverpool: John sang: “Come Together.” Ringo sang: “I get by with a little help from me friends.” Paul sang: “Her Majesty’s a pretty nice girl, but she doesn’t have a lot to say.” And George sang, “While my guitar gently weeps. . .”
I am sure many, many Brits were weeping when her Majesty passed away. Now her last will and testament is a vectored message to her legacy family: Stay together, work together. Every member has a role to perform. Come to think about it; it might be wise counsel for all of us earth-dwellers.
As for Harry, whom I like because he married an American, with his new excalibur, lifted from the archive of the ancient Dover cliff’d Isle of Great Britain. . . I challenge: On Guard, Prince! Oh, by the way, how’s it feel to be a yank?. . . with a royal sword, no less! Who’d’ve thunk it?
And yes, Virginia, there may yet still be a place for royals in the world. Someone needs to manifest the wisdom that dignity — no matter where it comes from — is a precious resource that we humans ought to cultivate, for ourselves, and for every person of this worldly realm that we encounter.
