Moniek Bloks's Blog, page 100

Royal Jewels – The Greville Festoon Necklace

The Greville Festoon necklace was from the collection of Dame Margaret Greville, the wife of the Hon. Ronald Greville. Margaret and her husband had had no children, and she bequeathed all her jewellery to Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother upon her death in 1942.

The Greville Festoon necklace was one of the most impressive pieces from Margaret’s collection. The original necklace, made in 1929 by Cartier using Margaret’s own diamonds, consisted of two rows with 17 plaques and a back chain. It was altered in 1938 when the 17 plaques were expanded to 21 plaques, and a separate three-row necklace with 18 plaques was fitted inside the necklace. This necklace was detachable and could be worn separately as well.

Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother preferred to wear the three-row necklace, and she only wore the complete necklace for special occasions, such as the State Banquet for President de Gaulle in 1960. She is wearing the three-row necklace below during the state visit of the Emperor and Empress of Japan in 1998.

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Her daughter Queen Elizabeth II inherited the necklace in 2002, and she loaned it to the Duchess of Cornwall, now Queen Camilla. Queen Elizabeth II never publicly wore the necklace. The then Duchess of Cornwall wore the complete necklace in Kampala in 2007, together with the Greville Tiara. 1

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The Year of Empress Elisabeth – Training to become an Empress

The newly engaged couple said their goodbyes on 31 August. For Elisabeth, the period between now and the wedding on 24 April would be one intense course of study on how to behave like an Empress.

Her education until now had been relatively informal, and she desperately needed to learn French and Italian as soon as possible. Elisabeth did not fare well under this extensive course of study, and her mother wrote, “Unfortunately, my children have no facility in learning foreign languages, and in social circles here, the speaking of French is noticeably decreasing.”1 In addition to languages, Elisabeth also needed to learn about the history of Austria. Historian Count Johann Mailáth came to Elisabeth three times a week to teach her from his own work: History of the Austrian Empire. Elisabeth liked him, and the lessons often lasted until late in the evening. As a Hungarian, he also told Austria’s history from a Hungarian point of view – which appealed to her. Dancing lessons were being given by an old ballet master called Friedrich Horschelt, on the evenings when she did not have history lessons.2

Meanwhile, Elisabeth’s trousseau was being worked on by dozens of seamstresses, embroiderers, milliners and shoemakers. Elisabeth was quite indifferent to the many new clothes, and she was annoyed by the many fittings. Her mother-in-law also sent her the helpful advice to take better care of her teeth. The trousseau eventually grew to 25 trunks of items, which were sent to Vienna ahead of the bride. Elisabeth slowly grew despondent and began writing sad poems about Possenhofen. Ludovika noticed the change in her daughter, and she wished to postpone the wedding. The Belgian envoy reported, “In order to spare her daughter the exertions arising from the festivities, the mother is said to want to postpone the wedding until June. If the ceremony were to take place at an advanced season and the major part of the nobility had already departed Vienna, it would be possible to win some dispensation from the events connected with the wedding.”3

During this period, Franz Joseph visited his fiance three times in Possenhofen. At the time, there was no direct rail connection, and it took him longer than a day to get there. He continued to be charmed by her and wrote to his mother, “Never, my dear Mama, will I be able to thank you enough for having brought about such deep happiness for me. Every day I love Sisi more, and I am ever more convinced that no one else could suit me better than she.”4 He later wrote, “As you advised me, I begged my Mama-in-law not to let Sisi ride too much; but I believe it will be hard to enforce, since Sisi is unwilling to give it up. And by the way, it has a very good effect on her; for since Ischl, she has gained quite a bit of weight and never looks ill now. Thanks to her care, too, her teeth have become quite white so that she is truly lovely.”5

Public appearances remained difficult for her, and Franz Joseph wrote that a visit to the Munich theatre “embarrassed Sisi very much.”6 At a later court ball, “the entire diplomatic corps was introduced to poor Sisi, and she made conversation charmingly, speaking with everyone.”7

By early March, the wedding contract was signed, and the marriage portion was set at 50,000 guldens. Franz Joseph promised to supplement this with 100,000 guldens. He also promised a morning gift of 12,000 ducats after the marriage “had been consummated.”8 A month before the wedding, Franz Joseph delivered a diamond tiara inset with opals, with a matching choker and earrings. It was a gift from his mother, who had worn the tiara at her own wedding. Around this time, Elisabeth also solemnly renounced any rights she had to the succession in the Kingdom of Bavaria.

In just a few months, Elisabeth had learned protocol, languages, history, how to dress correctly, dancing, and she had thoroughly cleaned her teeth. As she said goodbye to the servants at Possenhofen in April, she shook their hands. As Empress of Austria, she would only be allowed to put out her hand to be kissed. Her old life was now officially over.

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Review: The Empress (2022)

Netflix just couldn’t stay away and had to dive into the story of Empress Elisabeth of Austria, also known as Sisi. The series has six episodes which are all around one hour long. We begin where most of the Sisi productions begin – around the time of her engagement to Emperor Franz Joseph I of Austria.

We meet the demure older sister Helene who was originally intended for the Emperor, although there is no evidence for this in real life. The series rather shies away from mentioning the family connections. Does it perhaps make it less romantic to know that a 16-year-old married her 23-year-old first cousin? Anyway, there is some truth to their arrival in mourning dress, although it wasn’t for “uncle Georg.”

Franz Joseph’s mother is dressed as a classic evil mother-in-law, and she certainly holds up that image throughout the episodes. However, the only humanity in her is shown when she speaks of the death of her little daughter. I was surprised to find this included as it’s not well-known that she really did lose a daughter. I also liked the inclusion of Franz Joseph’s younger brother Ludwig Viktor, who is shown dressing like a girl and playing with dolls. In real life, he was eventually banished from Vienna following a scandal.

Franz Joseph’s brother Maximilian is shown as a pouty and spoiled Backstreet Boy who demands to rule as well and plans to overthrow his brother to achieve this. He is quite possibly the most annoying character here, and Elisabeth has some weird attraction to him. Franz Joseph’s father makes an appearance as well, although it is not explained how Franz Joseph can be Emperor while his father is alive. The only one that appears to be missing is the third eldest brother, Karl Ludwig, who in real-life becomes the grandfather of Franz Joseph’s eventual heir.

Despite Elisabeth having a large family, we only really meet a few of them. First, of course, there’s Helene. Then her mother, who doesn’t really leave an impression. Her father is shown as a philandering man, which is closer to the truth than the Sisi movies ever got. As Elisabeth was particularly close to her sisters, I am hoping we’ll meet more of them if the series is given another season.

Elisabeth herself is rather blase throughout the episodes. Her father in bed with multiple women makes no impression on her, and even when Franz Joseph picks her over Helene, she seems unimpressed with her sister’s misery. She undergoes her transformation to Empress in the most awful wedding dress and tiara that I have ever seen. This brings us to the costumes in general. These are weirdly modern and come with big pieces of plastic-y jewellery. Helene’s “revenge” transformation includes her hair cut into a strange long bob.

In an attempt to introduce some more tension, Elisabeth’s group of ladies is infiltrated by someone who wishes to do her harm. It seems rather ludicrous if you consider how tightly controlled the access to the court was.

After six episodes, I am still wondering whose story I watched here. Empress Elisabeth’s real story is so interesting and even dramatic. Now we just need to find someone with the guts to tell it.

The Empress is available worldwide on Netflix.

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Review: The Serpent Queen (2022) – Episode 4

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*spoilers*

Episode four begins with Rahima enjoying her cosy surroundings, but she is soon summoned to Catherine’s side. She is intercepted by the servant who was injured in the blast and claims she’ll pay when Mary is back on the throne. Mary, Queen of Scots, was the wife of King Francis II, Catherine’s eldest son, who has recently died. Mary, of course, has no claim to the throne, so I hope this storyline isn’t going where I think it’s going.

Rahima questions Mary’s claim, but Catherine tells Rahima her second son Charles will be King. In reality, he already is King (The King is dead, long live the King). When Rahima asks about the death of Francis, Catherine goes back to storytelling, but we’ve now made a 15-year jump from where we last saw Catherine as Dauphine.

In that time, she had nine children and had taken on the raising of Mary, Queen of Scots, who was betrothed to Francis. Catherine is once more giving birth, and it’s a particularly difficult birth. The child is stillborn, and Catherine is heartbroken. Strangely, King Francis I, who has trouble… getting it up, is still alive. His mistress Anne fears the future. The timeline seems to be a little off from reality. In reality, Catherine was pregnant with her third child when Henry succeeded his father. In The Serpent Queen, we seem to have already reached the end of her childbearing years while her father-in-law is still alive.

Where shall we end up next? Catherine is still mourning her child as she watches her other children playing in the garden. She finally allows herself to be washed and dressed and goes down into the garden. Henry is awkwardly distant but promises to visit her later that night. He never did. Catherine is advised not to have any more children, and this happened in real life as well, but after the traumatic birth of twin girls. Catherine and Diane fight after Diane claims to only tolerate Catherine’s night with Henry when they were useful for having children. Henry backs Diane to Catherine’s fury.

The King then collapses during the hunt and dies shortly thereafter, making Henry and Catherine King and Queen at last. Before he dies, he tells Catherine that she will be the real winner in the end. As she had expected, the King’s mistress Anne is forced to leave the court. Even Queen Eleanor leaves, and this is consistent with reality. Upon the late King’s request, Catherine is admitted to the privy council.

Later in the garden, young Francis sits out the game on “account of his breathing.” Catherine and Henry discuss Diane, but Henry rebuffs her. Catherine sets a plan in motion to remove Diane from the court while Diane turns to one of Catherine’s servants to stay in control. She gives Diane a gold solution to preserve her youth. The Holy Roman Emperor has a messenger deliver a severed head.

Back in the present time, a message of treachery is delivered.

Despite the confusing timeline, the fourth episode has found its pace again. Catherine seems to be biding her time and planning ahead for the ultimate revenge. The next few episodes should be good.

The Serpent Queen is available now on STARZ and Amazon Prime. You can sign up here for Amazon Prime.

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Royal Jewels – The Greville Scroll Brooch

The Greville Scroll Brooch was from the collection of Dame Margaret Greville, the wife of the Hon. Ronald Greville. Margaret and her husband had had no children, and she bequeathed all her jewellery to Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother upon her death in 1942.

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The art deco brooch was made by Cartier for Margaret in 1929 using three pearls and 26 brilliant from her own collection. Cartier also supplied 17 of the smallest stones. The brooch can be worn either side up as it’s in the form of a horizontal c-scroll. Queen Elizabeth II inherited the brooch from her mother upon her death in 2002.1

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Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother wore the brooch often and also liked to pin it to her hat. Queen Elizabeth wore the brooch several times in 2011 during her tour of Australia, and she wore it several times after that.2

 

 

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The Year of Empress Elisabeth – Sisi & Marie Sophie (Part two)

Read part one here.

The exiled Marie Sophie and Francis were given sanctuary by Pope Pius IX in the Quirinal Palace, where they stayed for 18 months while the Farnese Palace was being prepared for them. Though they had some financial investments, finances were pretty strained. Francis’s stepmother and her children also settled in Rome, and the relationship remained strained. Marie Sophie was still only 19 years old, and she was now without a crown.

In May 1861, Marie Sophie visited her childhood home at Possenhofen, and she finally felt a little better. Meanwhile, her heroic behaviour was the talk of Europe, and her parents were discussing a marriage between Marie Sophie’s sister Mathilde Ludovika and the King’s half-brother Prince Louis, Count of Trani. The King’s stepmother probably believed more in a possible restoration than Marie Sophie and Francis did, but they did not object to the marriage. Empress Elisabeth thought it a good idea because the sisters could keep each other company. On 6 June 1861, Mathilde Ludovika and Prince Louis married at the Ducal Palace in Munich. Within a year, Prince Louis showed more interest in other women.

King Francis set up a government in exile in Rome, which had the full support of the Pope. However, their social life was restricted, and Marie Sophie was bored and restless. It was perhaps no surprise that the vivacious Marie Sophie – with her impotent husband – fell in love with Armand de Lavayss, a Belgian Captain of the Papal Guard. In August 1862, Marie Sophie left first for the baths of Soden and then to Taxis, where her sister Helene lived. Newspapers reported that she was ill, but she was, in fact, expecting a child. It was later announced that she needed rest after her tragic experiences at Gaeta and would retire to the Ursuline Convent at Augsburg, where a doctor would attend to her. On 24 December 1862, Marie Sophie gave birth to a daughter who was named Maria Cristina Pia. Not much is known about the girl, except that she was removed from her mother and either given to her father or adopted. She died at the age of 19 from consumption. Marie Sophie was devastated to be separated from her child, and she became very depressed.

Unaware of the affair, Francis tried to reconcile with his wife while she was away. After an absence of almost a year, Marie Sophie returned to Rome and confessed the affair. Francis forgave her, and it was around this time he also underwent medical treatment for his phimosis. It was a new beginning. Mathilde Ludovika had been on the verge of leaving Rome, but Marie Sophie convinced her to stay. Mathilde Ludovika followed her sister’s example and fell pregnant by the Duke of Ripalda. In early 1864, she gave birth to a daughter named Marie, who was adopted by her paternal family. Mathilde Ludovika, too, managed to make things right with her husband, at least long enough to have his child as well. On 1 January 1867, she gave birth to a daughter named Maria Theresa. She was to be their only child.

In the spring of 1869, Marie Sophie learned that she was finally expecting a child with her husband. Elisabeth came to Rome to be with her sister during her confinement. Elisabeth later wrote that Francis “wore himself out with efforts to be amiable.”1 On 24 December 1869 – exactly seven years after the birth of Maria Cristina Pia – she gave birth to another daughter who was given almost the exact same name: Maria Cristina Louise Pia. She was baptised four days later by the Pope himself, who was also her godfather. Elisabeth was to be her godmother. However, the little girl was a sickly child, and for the final week of her life, Marie Sophie sat by her cradle without undressing or going to bed. Francis recorded in his diary that she was “seized with convulsions and flew to heaven.”2 Marie Sophie reportedly clung to her daughter’s body all night. They would never have another child, and the little girl was laid to rest in the Church of Santa Spirito dei Napoletani. Marie Sophie began to pack her bags immediately after the funeral and left Rome on 8 April.

Maria Cristina Louise Pia (public domain)

In 1878, Marie Sophie and Elisabeth quarrelled over Elisabeth’s pilot (in hunting) Bay Middleton. He was a bachelor at the time, and inevitably, there was gossip about the pair. Marie Sophie told Crown Prince Rudolf what British society was saying about his mother, and she later repeated Rudolf’s disparaging comments to his mother. Elisabeth was deeply hurt, and her lady-in-waiting believed that Marie Sophie was intentionally creating mischief out of jealousy. The sisters were never fully reconciled after this conflict.

Marie Sophie eventually returned to her husband, who was by then in Paris, and they began to divide their time between Paris, the south of France and Bavaria. She even began to regularly visit England, where she rented a house. Ever restless, she travelled all around Europe and did not spend much time with her husband. The sisters were reunited with most of their siblings for Empress Elisabeth’s 50th birthday at Gödollo. In November 1888, their father, Duke Max, died at the age of 79, followed by the suicide of Empress Elisabeth’s son Crown Prince Rudolf in January 1889. On 16 May 1890, Helene died at the age of 52 with Empress Elizabeth by her side. Not much later, Marie Sophie hurried to be bedside of their mother Ludovika, but she arrived a few hours too late. Ludovika died on 25 January 1892 at the age of 83.

Marie Sophie and Francis spent the summer of 1894 together in Bavaria, and by that time, Francis was already seriously ill. She returned to Paris while he took the baths of Arco. He would die there on 27 December 1894, and once again, Marie Sophie arrived too late. On 13 January 1895, he was buried in the Catholic Church at Arco. Marie Sophie returned to Bavaria with her brother and his wife. More tragedy was to come. Her sister Sophie Charlotte, Duchess of Alençon, perished during a fire in a charity bazaar in Paris on 4 May 1897. Her sister Empress Elisabeth was assassinated on 10 September 1898. Marie Sophie did not attend the funeral. During her final years, she divided her time between Paris and Munich.

Marie Sophie lived through the First World War and saw the fall of several empires and kingdoms. In February 1922, Marie Sophie fell seriously ill, but she recovered. Three years later, she once again fell ill while visiting her brother in Munich. She died of pneumonia on 19 January 1925. She was interred at Tegernsee Abbey next to her parents.3

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Royal Wedding Recollections – Infanta Cristina of Spain & Iñaki Urdangarin

Infanta Cristina of Spain married Iñaki Urdangarin on 4 October 1997. At the time, Cristina was the first member of the Spanish royal family to hold a salaried job; she prepared photographic exhibitions for a savings bank foundation. Her new husband was a professional handball team player. They met at the 1996 Summer Olympics in Atlanta, where his team won the bronze medal.

Their wedding paid tribute to Spain’s diverse regions. The service – held in Barcelona Cathedral – was mostly in Spanish but also used Catalan and the Basque language. The three languages also appeared on flags that were being waved by the crowds that lined the route of the procession.1

Cristina wore a long white wedding dress by Spanish designer Lorenzo Caprile, and her veil was held in place with a floral headband. Afterwards, her bridal bouquet was brought to the Basilica of Mercy, which is dedicated to the patron saint of the diocese of Barcelona. Finally, the banquet and reception took place at the Palacio de Pedralbes. Cristina was created Duchess of Palma de Mallorca for life, with her husband holding the male form of her title.

Foreign royal guests included Crown Princess Victoria of Sweden and the future Grand Duke Henri and Grand Duchess Maria Theresa Of Luxembourg.

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The couple went on to have four children together: Juan (born 1999), Pablo (born 2000), Miguel (born 2002) and Irene (born 2005). Cristina and her husband were prosecuted for tax fraud charges in 2015, and that same year, King Felipe VI officially deprived his sister of her dukedom. In 2017, Cristina was acquitted of the charges, while Iñaki was convicted, and he received a prison sentence of six years and three months. This was lowered to five years and ten months the following year.

Cristina and Iñaki officially separated in January 2022. The following statement was released: “By mutual consent, we have decided to end our marriage. Our commitment to our children remains intact. Since it is a private decision, we ask for the utmost respect from all those around us. Cristina de Borbón and Iñaki Urdangarin.” They have not yet officially divorced.

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The Year of Empress Elisabeth – Sisi & Marie Sophie (Part one)

Marie Sophie in Bavaria was born on 4 October 1841 as the daughter of Maximilian Joseph, Duke in Bavaria and Princess Ludovika of Bavaria. She was the younger sister of Empress Elisabeth of Austria, who was known as Sisi. She was one of ten siblings, of which eight survived to adulthood.

All the siblings were high-spirited, and Marie Sophie gained the nickname “Madi.” She loved being outdoors, and she loved to swim. The family spent the summers at Possenhofen, where life was generally informal, while the winters were spent in Munich. They enjoyed a simple upbringing, and little attention was paid to their education. When Marie Sophie was 11 years old, her elder sister was betrothed to their first cousin, Emperor Franz Joseph I of Austria. It had been planned that he should marry her eldest sister Helene, but he preferred Elisabeth. Franz Joseph and Elisabeth were married in 1854. The jilted Helene did not remain unmarried for long, and she married Maximilian Anton Lamoral, Hereditary Prince of Thurn and Taxis in 1858. Marie Sophie was now the eldest unmarried daughter.

In October 1857, Marie Sophie celebrated her 16th birthday amongst rumours that Francis, the Duke of Calabria, the eldest son of Ferdinand II of the Two Sicilies, would soon be asking for her hand in marriage. It was a great match, and her parents saw little reason to reject the offer. At last, attention turned to her education, and Marie Sophie underwent a crash course in court etiquette, basic Italian, and the art of conversation. Marie Sophie had also not yet had her first period, and doctors tried to kickstart it by treating her with leeches and hot baths. Her mother dreaded her daughter’s departure and wrote to her sister Sophie, “Although I must wish that it will not be drawn out, for surely it is better that she comes young into this altogether different, foreign situation, she will find and adapt herself all the more readily and with less difficulty.”

The proxy wedding was celebrated on 8 January 1859 at the Church of All Saints at the palace in Munich. She wore a dress of brocade and lace with orange blossom and a long white velvet train, and a veil held down by a coronet. Her uncle, Prince Leopold of Bavaria, stood in for the groom. The wedding was attended by King Maximilian II of Bavaria and his wife, Queen Marie (born of Prussia). On 13 January, Marie Sophie said goodbye to her family, and she headed south. She was forced to spend an extra week in Vienna when her father-in-law became ill, and she could not have her state entry into Naples. On 3 February, she finally arrived in her new homeland with only her canary Hansi as a companion. She finally met Francis for the first time, and they spoke to each other in hesitant French. Her father-in-law was too ill to be there, and she enquired after him. She would later meet him while he was on his sickbed, and he embraced her tenderly. Shortly after her arrival, a second wedding ceremony took place in the palace.

In accordance with tradition, Marie Sophie and her new husband were locked in a chamber for the wedding night. Her husband – who was particularly devout – spent much of the night in prayer while Marie Sophie cried. She finally fell asleep from exhaustion, and he then crept into bed, trying not to disturb her. Needless to say, the marriage was not consummated. They were not off to a good start, and in many ways, they were exact opposites. Marie Sophie was now part of a royal family overshadowed by the King’s illness, and the Queen treated her coldly. Queen Maria Theresa (born of Austria) was Francis’ stepmother, and she preferred to see her eldest son succeed as King. When she asked Francis to intercede on her behalf with his stepmother, he refused to do so, leading to a quarrel between Marie Sophie and Francis. However, the main issue became the lack of consummation, probably caused by Francis’s phimosis – a genital condition that, in most cases, cured itself naturally. Marie Sophie tried to make the best of the whole situation with diversions, such as fishing. On 22 May 1859, Marie Sophie’s father-in-law died, and she became Queen consort of the Two Sicilies after just four months of marriage. She was still only 17 years old.

Just a few days later, the new King and Queen held a reception at the Palace at Naples as officials came to the hands of their new sovereigns. No longer under the control of Queen Maria Theresa, the relationship between Marie Sophie and her husband improved, though he remained shy and lacking in confidence. Their reign was to be short. In 1860, unrest captured the city of Naples to calls for the unification of Italy. The situation became increasingly desperate, with invading forces taking over several towns. Francis desperately promised to proclaim the constitution of 1852  and was promptly seized by panic attacks. The constitution came far too late, and the Queen Dowager took her children to the safety of the city of Gaeta. Marie Sophie remained with her husband and even declared that if he did not place himself at the head of his troops, she would do so herself.

Nevertheless, troops continued to invade, and eventually, they were also forced to withdraw to the fortified city of Gaeta. The siege of Gaeta would last for three months, and for Marie Sophie, it was perhaps her finest hour. She cared for the wounded, rallied the army and dared the invaders to do their worst. When the leader of the enemy forces told her to mark her residence with a flag so that they could avoid it, she dismissed it and dared them to shoot at her if they wanted to. She also ordered her soldiers down to the seaside rampart and told them to moon the fleet attacking them. She was not to be messed with and went down in history as the “heroine of Gaeta.” There were a few occasions when she barely escaped with her life.

The Kingdom of the Two Sicilies came to an end on 20 March 1861, leaving Francis and Marie Sophie without a throne.

Part two coming soon.

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The Queen Consort paradox

I had hoped that once The Queen had died, we could all go back to sticking to the rules about titles: follow the 1917 Letters Patent as intended and don’t makeup titles as you go along. And if the new King didn’t want that, he should issue new Letters Patent.

The 1917 Letters Patent state, “It is declared by the Letters Patent that the children of any Sovereign of the United Kingdom and the children of the sons of any such Sovereign and the eldest living son of the eldest son of the Prince of Wales shall have and at all times hold and enjoy the style, title or attribute of Royal Highness with their titular dignity of Prince or Princess prefixed to their respective Christian names or with their other titles of honour.” This was amended in 2013 to include all the children of the eldest son of the Prince of Wales (namely The Duke of Cambridge’s children, George, Charlotte and Louis), mainly because if George had been born a girl, she would have been “Lady” rather than “Princess,” while changes to make the succession gender neutral were already underway.1

While the children of the Earl and Countess of Wessex remain known as children of an Earl, they are HRH Prince(ss) under the 1917 Letters Patent (as they were before The Queen’s death) as it was announced by The Queen at the wedding of their parents. However, no such announcement was made for the children of the Duke and Duchess of Sussex, who are now also HRH Prince(ss) as grandchildren in the male line of the monarch. As of yet, no additional announcement has been made regarding their titles.

However, the one title that irks me the most is the use of “The Queen Consort” for Queen Camilla. As confirmed when Lady Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon married the then Duke of York, “In accordance with the settled general rule that a wife takes the status of her husband Lady Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon on her marriage has become Her Royal Highness the Duchess of York with the status of a Princess.”2 Thus, when Camilla married the then Prince of Wales, she became Princess of Wales, Duchess of Cornwall etc. She chose to use the Duchess of Cornwall title as the Princess of Wales title was still strongly connected to Charles’s first wife, Diana. This doesn’t mean that she wasn’t legally The Princess of Wales. You’ll also note that none of these titles includes the word “Consort.”

Now that Charles is King, Camilla automatically took on the female equivalent of her husband’s rank and status and thus became Queen. As she is not a Queen in her own right, her role is that of Queen consort. In the United Kingdom, a Queen consort is addressed as Her Majesty The Queen. However, for some reason, Buckingham Palace has insisted on referring to Camilla as “Her Majesty The Queen Consort.”3

So, I had a little look around.

The official website does not do the same for Queen Elizabeth The Queen Mother4 nor for Queen Mary.5 They are correctly referred to as “Queen.”

Then there’s the London Gazette, which is one of the official journals of record or government and refers to “The Queen Consort” just 41 times in the last 295 years, with the most recent four referring to Queen Camilla. By contrast, there are 11463 references to “The Queen” from 1901 (the death of Queen Victoria) until 1952 (the death of King George VI) alone. Queen Alexandra is briefly referred to as “The Queen Consort”6 shortly after Queen Victoria’s death, but by October 1901 and the announcement of the coronation, she is continuously referred to as “Her Majesty The Queen.”7 In a short biography in the New York Times two days after Queen Victoria’s death, she is referred to as “The Queen Consor,t” but only in the title as the text simply describes her as “Queen.”8 In early March and early June that same year, there’s another brief reference to “Queen Consort.”9 Following her husband’s death, she is briefly referred to as “Her Majesty The Queen Mother”10 before “Queen Alexandra” becomes more common.

Queen Mary, the wife of King George VI, was first referred to as “The Queen”11 and later also as “Queen Mary.”12 When she died in 1953, she was referred to as “Queen Mary.”13

The most recent woman before Camilla to be Queen consort was Queen Elizabeth, later the Queen Mother. Shortly after her husband’s accession, he referred to her as “Our dearly beloved Consort the Queen.”14 Later, she is referred to as “Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth, your Majesty’s gracious Consort”15 and finally “Her Majesty the Queen.”16 After her husband’s death and the accession of Queen Elizabeth II, she is referred to as “Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth The Queen Mother”17 or “Her Majesty The Queen Mother.”18

So what is with this “Queen Consort Camilla” business? We cannot claim that we don’t know how it’s done. Even after the death of Queen Victoria after a reign of 63 years, Queen Alexandra was only briefly referred to it. Queen Mary and Queen Elizabeth The Queen Mother were not, as far as I can tell, referred to as “Her Majesty The Queen Consor,t”, and if they were, it must have been only briefly. We know Camilla is not a reigning Queen, as there is a King. So we cannot claim confusion with the previous Queen (regnant).

Queen Elizabeth II herself added to the confusion when she released a statement saying, “It is my sincere wish that, when that time comes, Camilla will be known as Queen Consort as she continues her own loyal service.”19 Do note the “The” missing from there. Camilla was always going to be a Queen consort, as she is the wife of a King. Simply calling her “Her Majesty The Queen”, per the precedent, will not alter that fact. To me, it feels like yet another attempt at appeasing a certain group. Calling Camilla “The Queen Consort’ makes it seem like she is not fully a Queen, which is nonsense, of course.

One can only hope that she will soon be referred to by her rightful title and style of address. The monarchy was never a popularity contest.

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Review: Amalia. Ambition and Allure exhibition

Amalia of Solms-Braunfels jumped from relative obscurity to being one of the leading ladies of the 17th century. She was part of the court of Elizabeth Stuart, the Winter Queen of Bohemia, and followed her mistress into exile in the Netherlands. In The Hague, she met Frederick Henry, the brother of Maurice, Prince of Orange. He became infatuated with her, but Amalia held out for marriage.

On his deathbed, the unwed Maurice pressured Frederick Henry to marry, or he would not be made his heir. Frederick Henry and Amalia were married on 4 April 1625, and Maurice died on 23 April 1625, with Frederick Henry succeeding him as Prince of Orange and Stadtholder. Amalia adopted the motto “Quid reddam domino?” – How shall I repay the Lord?

Amalia immediately became a much-loved figure in the republic and took up a rivalry with her former mistress – Elizabeth Stuart. This was covered a few years ago by the Haags Historisch Museum with their exhibition Courtly Rivals.1 Frederick Henry and Amalia not only began many building projects, but they also began to build their family. They went on to have nine children, of which five – one son and four daughters – survived to adulthood. Amalia became a cunning marriage broker and eventually secured Mary, Princess Royal, the eldest daughter of King Charles I and Henrietta Maria, for her son. Their son – Amalia’s grandson – became King William III of England, Ireland, and Scotland. Her daughters married Frederick William, Elector of Brandenburg, William Frederick, Count of Nassau-Dietz, John George II, Prince of Anhalt-Dessau and Louis Henry, Count Palatine of Simmern-Kaiserslautern, respectively.

Although her male line died out with her grandson King William III, she is an ancestor of the Dutch Royal House through her daughter Albertine Agnes.

Click to view slideshow.

The new exhibition Amalia. Ambition and Allure in the Prinsenhof in Delft puts the Princess in the spotlight. We learn about Amalia through magnificent portraits and items and through the seven As. The As stand for Avontuurlijk (adventurous), Aanwezig (present), Aanzien (allure), Autoritair (authority), Assertief (assertive), Atypisch (atypical) and Aanhouder (one who perseveres).

Click to view slideshow.

In the exhibition, you’ll also find a partial replica of the so-called Orange Room, which was commissioned by Amalia to celebrate her husband’s achievements. This room is not open to the public as it is in King Willem-Alexander’s private residence, but it has links to the present as his eldest daughter, also named Amalia, had official photos taken there to mark her 18th birthday.

©RVD – Frank Ruiter

The exhibition is also accompanied by an audio tour, but I did not use this as I really dislike audio tours in general. Luckily, there’s plenty of written information, so I do not feel as though I missed out on anything. Overall, I thoroughly enjoyed the exhibition, and I would like to especially note the lighting that did not wash out the paintings, as it so often does in exhibitions. If you don’t speak Dutch, you’ll also be able to find all texts in English. Unfortunately, it does appear that the official publication only comes in Dutch.

Amalia. Ambition and Allure exhibition will run from 16 September 2022 until 8 January 2023. You can plan your visit here.

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