His crowning moment
Man in Hat Sits on Chair. The front cover of satirical magazine, Private Eye, succinctly summed up yesterday's coronation of King Charles III in Westminster Abbey. In essence, that's what an enthronement boils down to. There shouldn't really be much more to be said but, unfortunately, in a constitutional monarchy such as ours, there is always more - much more.
As the first-born son of the reigning monarch of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, Charles' destiny (and constitutional duty) was to succeed his mother as sovereign on her death. It couldn't have been anticipated at his birth in 1948 that Queen Elizabeth II would sit on the throne for seventy years, beating her great great grandmother Victoria's record by six years to become the longest reigning monarch in British history and only just missing Louis XIV's world record by two years. But, then, Louis came to the throne of France aged five. It's been a long and often frustrating wait for Charles but finally, aged seventy-four, his moment has arrived. Having succeeded to the throne on his mother's death last September, his coronation yesterday sets the seal on his reign. Now he has to make it work.
It's no more likely that his reign will become the new Carolean Age than his mother's lived up to the over-hyped expectations of a New Elizabethan Age. The first King Charles' reign was utterly calamitous for his country and ended in his execution with the well-deserved soubriquet, A Man of Blood. Charles II was a traitor to his own country, a serial philanderer who, despite siring dozens of bastards, left no legitimate heir, paving the way for further chaos under his brother, James II, who succeeded him.
In view of this tainted legacy, I'm sure I was not alone in wondering if Charles might opt for his last given name, George, for his reign, as was his prerogative upon succession. He chose instead to stick with Charles, perhaps in the hope that it would be third time lucky. We shall see but I couldn't help imagining him shuddering momentarily as he rode past the equestrian statue of his first namesake at the top of Whitehall on his carriage journeys to and from Westminster Abbey yesterday. But maybe he had other things on his mind.
For example, what the fallout of his estrangement from his second son, Harry, and his American wife, Meghan, might be. Harry turned up for the coronation, sans wife, rather like Banquo's ghost. It's probably best for Charles not to pursue that particular analogy - suffice to say it didn't end well for Macbeth's dynastic ambitions. And his own rumoured impatience for kingship may yet come back to haunt him if he lives as long as his mother. In twenty-two years' time his heir, William, Prince of Wales, will be sixty-five and his son, George, thirty-two.
A geriatric monarchy is unlikely to survive when polls show it already losing the support of young Britons. If Charles were to limit his term to ten years and William the same we'd still have in George a king in his early-fifties. This takes the monarchy a long way from the glamour of the eighteen year-old Victoria and twenty-six year-old Elizabeth at their respective coronations.
Nothing is more likely to finish off the monarchy than a succession of middle-aged men and their wives making the trip to Westminster Abbey to be crowned. In an age where even popes retire, a limited term followed by dignified obscurity might be the best survival plan.
As they say in showbiz, always leave them wanting more.