I wasn’t going to write this post as I thought it might be a bit sensitive for some. However, Royal Anecdotes’ readers are grown up so it should not be a problem with them. If the views expressed here seem to contradict earlier pieces, let me explain the distinctions. I don’t believe what happened to Kate Middleton had anything to do with snobbery. It was certainly Realpolitik and, in particular, the preservation of the world’s greatest Royal house.

In the clash of dynasties, who you are is more important than what you are.

After the Norman Conquest in 1066, the English Monarchy was for centuries regarded as French by the English people. To this day, some Parliamentary documents are still written in 11th-century Norman French.

When the Elector of Hanover was put on the throne as George I in 1714, he spoke only German. Three hundred years later the British Royal Family is still called “the Germans” by its enemies, despite George V’s name change from Saxe-Coburg to Windsor in the early 20th century.

By contrast, Prime Ministers disappear when they quit office. Most of them leave little trace. The next one may be totally different in type, character and background. But a King needs the right connections on his escutcheon or his perceived failings will reverberate for centuries.

Back in February it was commonly believed that Prince William would announce his engagement to Kate Middleton. Well-connected journalists Richard Kay and Geoffrey Levy thought so. Kate herself expected it, we’re told. Most of us thought it was a done deal.

Now they have split up. What went wrong in February?

I have no direct knowledge of what happened, but looking at the situation from a Royal historical perspective — which won’t be understood by many in these democratic times — I believe the following scenario prevailed :

On the 22nd of December, Christopher Wilson wrote an article in the Daily Mail about his researches into Kate Middleton’s lineage. He called the piece, “Kate, the Coal Miner’s Girl“.

It was around then that the atmosphere cooled dramatically. Kate didn’t go to Sandringham for Christmas. William didn’t turn up at the Middleton’s Scottish retreat for New Year, and a tension was perceptible between them. After a few month’s grace, the relationship was called off.

Undoubtedly, many words have been spoken in private — words we’ll never hear, nor should they ever be released into the public domain. This is not about snobbery or personal superiority, or even about Carole Middleton. The public will judge it as such, of course, but in fact it goes way beyond that.

It is essentially about dynastic survival. Were William to marry Kate — as personally suitable as she is — the House of Windsor would be changed forever.

The aristocracy can be very curt about lineage, especially the lesser families. European Royalty is particularly cutting about alliances not seen to be Royal. You can imagine a future European Royal occasion in which the hosts sigh and say, “Do we have to invite the coal miners?”

Left-wing rags would stop writing about “the Germans” and adopt the same term instead. In the clash of dynasties the House of Windsor would be diminished forever.

A country can always change its Prime Minister or President. Britain will even survive the depredations of Tony Blair. But once the Royal house is marked by genetic inheritance, it’s judged by that forever.

I believe that is what happened between late December and February. I may be wrong, but we’ll never know the truth of the case. The Royal Family keeps its secrets well, as it should.

This is not about the Middletons personally, but the long timelines of Royal inheritance. At the level of Monarchs, times don’t change much.

Richard II (1367-1400), King of England (1377-1399), whose reign was marked by national disunity and civil strife.

The nature of the court feasts was determined by his interest in fine cooking and the zest for new combinations of contrasting flavours. His court cookery book The Forme of Cury has been preserved: the manuscript came into the possession of the Staffords, was presented by Edmund Stafford to Queen Elizabeth and later was part of the Harleian Collection; it was printed for the Society of Antiquaries in the reign of George III. It is stated in its prologue that Richard is accounted “the best and ryallest [Royallest] vyander of all Christian Kings” and that the book is compiled by his master cook with “the assent and advisement of maisters of phisik and of phielosophy” that dwelt in his court. It consists of 196 recipes, and throughout there is an emphasis on the exotic; the recipe for cooking oysters in Greek wine seems characteristic. A considerable luxury trade is presupposed: spices are in common use; there is much pepper, sometimes whole, sometimes powdered, and much ginger; there are frequent references to cinnamon, cardamom, nutmeg and saffron and in one case to spikenard; sugar of Cyprus seems specially prized, but there is also white sugar and sugar clarified with wine.

From : The Court of Richard II by Gervase Mathew

Gervase Mathew’s book The Court of Richard II, published in 1968 is a good source of interesting anecdotes on the King. Here’s one relating to his interests in divination and astrology :

A Book of divinations, Libellus Geomancei, … is stated to have been prepared for the solace of King Richard by the least of his servants in March 1391, and probably reflects the deepest private interests of the King. After sections on Kingship, Physiognomy and Dreams the book culminates on … a list of questions which when asked under an appropriate conjunction of planets, and with the use of diagrams would enable the King to receive answers on such problems as the strength of chastity, the welfare of the King and kingdom and the fidelity of friends. The volume is pervaded by trust in the power of the planets: a study of planetary conjunctions might provide a clue to several of Richard’s actions in the political crises of his reign.

If you would like to buy “The Court of Richard II” from Amazon, just click here.

Henry II (1154 – 1189) is known for his close, but disastrous, friendship with Thomas Becket, his Chancellor. While they were still friends, Henry used many occasions to mock Becket :

“One day they were riding together through the streets of London. It was a hard winter and the King noticed an old man coming towards them, poor and clad in a thin ragged coat. ‘Do you see that man?’ said the King. ‘Yes, I see him’, replied the Chancellor.’ ‘How poor he is, how frail, and how scantily clad!’ said the King. ‘Would it not be an act of charity to give him a thick warm cloak?’ ‘It would indeed; and right that you should attend to it, my King.’ So Henry offered the man a cloak.

“Said the King to the Chancellor, ‘You shall have the credit for this act of charity,’ and laying hands on the Chancellor’s hood tried to pull off his cape, a new and very good one of scarlet and grey, which he was loth to part with. A great din and commotion then arose and the knights and great men of their retinue hurried up wondering what was the cause of this sudden strife. But it was a mystery; both of them had their hands fully occupied and more than once seemed likely to fall off their horses. At last the Chancellor reluctantly allowed the King to overcome him, and suffered him to pull the cape from his shoulder and give it to the poor man.”