What ho, chaps!
This utter sham of a royal wedding gets worse and worse. As if it wasn't bad enough that young Prince William had chosen to invite every two-bob rugger player in the colonies to attend the event, it now emerges that one of those invitees, Richie McCaw, has brazenly snubbed the Prince's invitation. One can only imagine the paroxysms of embarrassment that the poor courtiers at Clarence House are experiencing at this time. I am told that William simply refuses to listen to advice and these risible shenanigans rather seem to prove it.
It seems to me that two grave faux pas have been committed here:
- First, on the part of the Prince, to invite an ill-bred colonial to the wedding in the first place. If William was desirous of a rugby guest for some chappy banter, then there was only ever one acceptable course of action: that is, to invite the England captain, flaxen-haired Mr Moody (Oakham), to attend.
- Second, on the part of McCaw, to reject the Prince's invitation. Now, I know that McCaw is a colonial and thus can hardly be expected to act like a gentleman: but snubbing the future King of England? Really? It is pretty shoddy behaviour to say the least. I imagine that even the rough-and-ready sheep farmers of New Zealand can sense the stench of lesé majesté.
It is a most regrettable affair all round. I can well understand that the young Prince might be anxious to reach out to the surly burghers of the colonies, but in my experience it is a profound folly to mix breeds. The pleb and the gentleman - or the colonial and the Englishman - can rub along perfecly well when they merely watch each other from afar with a curious eye; but the moment these separate classes are thrown together in experimental fashion, one finds that, ineluctably, mere contact with the proletarian undermines the dignity of the gentleman in irredeemable fashion.
This, alas, is the lesson being administered to Prince William at this time. One rather fears that his unfortunate choice of bride - the bony oikess, Middleton - will ram the message home still farther over the months and years ahead.
Yours, etc
Viscount Crouchback
The more I hear about this 'royal' wedding, the less I like. It's clear that the heir to the throne has picked up the worst traits of his parents and this has materialised itself firstly in the form of his not-a-princess bride.
Personally, I admire her slinky physique, which would be the envy of the best of Bangkok's chickboys. However, her face has picked up a touch of the council somewhere along the line.
I appreciate that dear Liz had to get him married off before he lost his looks altogether (and he's looking distinctly ratty even now) but surely we could have done better.
This business of the invitation to the lowbrow colonial cheat is just a disgrace, as was asking a barely house-trained paddy along. There are thousands of Englishmen playing rugby who should have been invited first.
William's weakness in these matters is a reflection of the limp, self-hating libdem monarchy we will sadly and shortly be doomed to.
I'd pray for him to be involved in some sort of tragic accident, as his brother looks to have more spunk, although he's clearly a Teddy seven type.
Of course, the ideal solution would be, once her majesty and Phil the Greek have gone gracefully to their graves, to engineer some catastrophe to waste the line of succession until it left Zara I and her noble prince Michael to take the throne.
I might come back to Blighty if that happened...
Posted by: Royston Bunbury, esq | 31 March 2011 at 03:31 PM
"ill-bred colonial to the wedding" - emm, maybe you should pull your head in Visconti.
After all Richie McCaw's grandfather fought in the Battle of Britain to save your party hide.
As for the future King, William is the least of the royals you should be getting stuck into.
Hows the rugby going? Oh wait you lost to the irish!
Posted by: Aucklander | 01 April 2011 at 01:36 AM