The Unofficial British Royal Family Pages

Sunday 18 July 2004

Thirty-five Years After Caernarvon

It was high summer in 1969.  Richard Nixon was in his first year as President of the United States.  The Vietnam War was raging.  In June in New York Judy Garland succumbed at age 47 to the pills that she had become addicted to during a childhood and youth of virtual slavery in the old-time studio regime of manic filmmaking.  On the night following her funeral the Stonewall riots broke out in Greenwich Village, marking the beginning of the modern gay rights movement.  At the end of July Buzz Aldrin and Neil Armstrong would land on the moon.  And, on 1 July, Prince Charles was formally invested as Prince of Wales at Caernarvon Castle, duly enrobed and crowned in a somewhat Camelot-ish ceremony featuring a variety of lords, clergy, and arch druids moving solemnly about the modernist-medieval dais designed by Lord Snowdon.  It may have been the last – if not the only – time the Queen carried a frilly parasol on a state occasion.  I was aged 13, and watched it all on television with great fascination.  I think it was the day the monarchy first captured my imagination. 

Like almost everyone with even an ounce of Welsh Blood, it seems I have a family connection to the ancient chieftains and princes of Wales.  Thanks to an ancestress named Mary Rice (Rhys) I may be a descendant of the lineages stretching back to Cunedda (i.e. Kenneth) and Coel the Old in the 4^th and 5^th centuries.  King Arthur is thus a cousin.  So are the Tudors.  Thanks to all this I felt, and still feel, a strong sense of connection to the events of July 1, 1969. 

I recently rewatched a video of the ceremony, which also included the interview conducted by David Frost with the young prince.  He was then a year younger than Prince William is currently.  He seemed far younger at that age than his son now does, but it was interesting to see how much of the man was already evident in the youth.  On the one hand there was that sort of diffidence that still manifests from time to time.  At one point he refers to himself as a “twit,” and speaks enthusiastically of his “goonish” sense of humor.  On the other hand there was a commitment to both land and people that also abides in the Prince of Wales’ public work. 

Thirty-five years on it seems safe to note that whatever his failings as a husband, his self-acknowledged eccentricities, and his personal self-indulgences, the current Prince of Wales has really has taken all his various roles as Prince and Heir Apparent more seriously than any King-in-waiting heretofore.  He has taken his connection to the Principality of Wales more seriously than any of his English predecessors.  (And thanks to his late granny, he also has more Welsh blood than any of them since the Tudors.)  Like the motto of his office (Ich Dien), he serves! 

The Prince of Wales made a point of taking his bride to Caernarvon shortly after their marriage to present her to the Welsh people.  Diana wore a smart outfit in the Welsh colors of red and green and they set out a couple of the 1969 seats on the dais.  In later years he has taken his son and heir to meet the people of the principality.  At the inauguration of the new Welsh Assembly in 1999 he accompanied the Queen to the ceremonies.  (Something, I would regretfully add, that he did not do in Edinburgh for the inauguration of the Scottish Parliament.)  He also makes regular formal and informal visits, including this week’s annual tour.  He even lives just a few stones throws away from Wales, in Gloucestershire.  In various ways he seems ever-mindful of his special connection with Wales. 

But this Prince’s duty-mindfulness extends well beyond Wales.  Though they had their own long apprenticeships, his predecessors Edward VII and Edward VIII did nothing like the constructive work Charles has done throughout the U.K. via the Prince’s Trust, for instance.  Even in all the matters on which the Prince gets lambasted for speaking out – things like the environment, architecture, genetically modified foods, alternative therapies and such – it often seems a few years on that he has simply managed to be a bit ahead of the curve on popular opinion.  (And that may explain why the elitists in those various fields keep working so hard to discredit and snipe at him.)  He certainly tends to value the green and pleasant lands of all the United Kingdom, and speaks up again and again for a human-scaled and caring society.  He’s just not the type for embracing the modern equivalents of Blake’s “dark satanic mills.”  He’s much more the heir of the “arts and crafts” era. 

But isn’t that part of the supposed problem with Charles?  The catalog of charges against him keeps noting that he is an anachronism.  He’s too “Edwardian” for Cool Britannia.  And so on….  Even in the world of 1969 the lad sitting with David Frost already sounded like someone from a different era.  But on the other hand I wonder if he’s not grown into himself over the years, just as he has grown into his ears.  Perhaps the single dad, organic farmer, and philanthropist of 2004 is less an anachronism than the gawky princeling in the leeky coronet of 1969?  (Though I actually think that coronet is a rather handsome piece of work.)  His recent foray to Iraq and his courtesy call on the President of Iran seems to belie arguments for his irrelevance.  The multitudes that turn out for the annual Prince’s Trust concerts certainly testify to some sense of connection to contemporary popular realities.  And then there’s the fact that his Duchy Originals actually do sell.   He might still have occasion to describe himself as a “twit,”  but he certainly is not a useless twit. 

So, thirty-five years on, Judy Garland is still dead… alas.  Nixon is too. Vietnam has diplomatic relations with the U.S., and some wonder if the U.S. and U.K. can ultimately fare as well with Iraq.  Astronauts haven’t walked on the moon in decades and manned space flight is faltering, though we’re not doing badly with space robots..  The world is quite different.  But Charles is still the Prince of Wales, and Elizabeth is still the Queen.  The dais still waits (last I know) at Caernarvon; William stands in the wings; and in the hills and valleys the memory of the echoes of the old anthem abides: 

“Among our ancient mountains,

And from our lovely vales,

Oh! Let the prayer re-echo

God bless the Prince of Wales!”

- Ken Cuthbertson