#bavarian royals

[world-of-wales]

I love the neckline of that wedding dress so much🥺😍

Same I love it and then the little necklace she's wearing, its so cute and dainty and beautiful. And i love the lacy corset-y vibes the bodice is giving underneath it so that makes it look even more good. This has got to be one of the best wedding dresses of some time now, it's breathtaking.

[tiaramania]

TIARA ALERT: Sophie Alexandra Evekink wore the Bavarian Sapphire Floral Tiara for her wedding to Prince Ludwig of Bavaria at the Theatine Church in Munich, Germany on 20 May 2023.

[catherinetheprincessofwales]

Prince Ludwig of Bavaria

[groenendaelfic]

Snippet #6 - Muggle-born Prince Wilhelm’s first accidental magic

Crown Princess Kristina is informed about the existence of magic the week after she turns eighteen.

It’s a bit of a shock, but she’s always been rather pragmatic and so she simply nods and familiarizes herself with this new aspect of her duties as best she can. She visits the Ministry of Magic, meets with the Magical Council, learns what she needs to know, and gets on with business.

Thirty years later she returns home from a long day of meetings and royal engagements to find her sons’ nanny wringing her hands and insisting that Kristina needs to come see her youngest right now, but unwilling to explain why.

Kristina is tired and has little patience for vagueness or a toddler’s antics, especially when Birgit is much better at calming little Wilhelm down than she herself is, but the other woman was chosen for her unflappable nature and no-nonsense attitude as much as she was for her qualifications and German skills, and so Kristina sighs and acquiesces. She knows Birgit wouldn’t bother her unless it’s really necessary and no one else can help.

"Is he having one of his crying episodes again?" Kristina asks, hoping for the answer to be no.

Wilhelm has always been a fussy baby, clingy and quick to upset, nothing like Erik, who smiles every time she comes to see him and never has any trouble entertaining himself or playing with others.

"It is best if Her Majesty comes and sees for herself," Birgit says, her accent stronger than usual.

Kristina sighs and makes her way to what is decidedly not the nursery.

A member of staff is waiting at the door, as if they’re guarding it, and Kristina has no idea how to take this. Birgit is not supposed to leave her charges unattended, or at least not Wilhelm, who is still young and has trouble sitting still and staying put when told to, and most certainly not when something is wrong.

The door is opened only as much as is necessary for them to walk through, and the sight which greets Kristina is most unexpected.

There are butterflies flying in the air, almost dancing around little Wilhelm, who is sitting on the carpet, his back towards the door.

He is not paying them any attention, does not come running up to her asking for a hug, and that, too, is most unusual. Instead he is busy cuddling a vaguely familiar looking dog—the small and yappy kind—and making gleeful happy noises.

Kristina blinks and turns to Birgit, waiting for an explanation.

Losing ones temper is never helpful, doubly so when one is the Queen and has a reputation to uphold, but she’s tired and it’s been a long day and she’d really like to know how a dog—if that’s what the long haired squirming carpet can even be called—got into the Royal Family’s private wing at Drottningholm and why it hasn’t long since been removed.

It can’t be because Birgit fears Wilhelm throwing a tantrum. Birgit is very good at handling those.

Birgit doesn’t immediately speak, as if she expects the presence of the dog to be explanation enough.

It most certainly is not.

"It … it jumped out of the painting," she says, waving at the life-sized painting, the one which prominently features a white Phalène sitting on the lap of one of her ancestors, its dark head and floppy ears adoringly staring up at its mistress.

Or rather it featured, because right now the lap is empty and said dog—because it is the same dog—is licking her youngest’s cheek and Wilhelm giggles, his small hands buried in its fur as it wriggles around, very much alive and three-dimensional.

She wants to tell Wilhelm to stop, because that’s unhygienic, but doesn’t. She can’t handle a hysterical Wilhelm on top of this, and maybe magical dogs—because that’s what it has to be, right? Accidental magic?—don’t have germs and have ideally no need to be house trained.

She really hopes it’s not. The idea of an adult member of the Royal Family having magic and strengthening the ties to the mostly independent and separate magical world might not be unwelcome, especially one with such close ties to the future King, but the thought of having a magical toddler at home, one as overly emotional as Wilhelm, precious as he otherwise is, is very much not.

She’ll have to notify the Magical Council, have someone from the Royal Swedish Academy of Magic come over both to test Wilhelm and to check if there isn’t something or someone else who might be the cause for this.

Maybe the paining was enchanted and Wilhelm somehow activated it … or something. One can always hope.

"The, ah, the butterflies were there first. I don’t know where they came from," Birgit adds, now back to helplessly wringing her hands.

Right, the butterflies. Which were definitely not in the painting before.

"Or rather … His Royal Highness was clapping his hands and then suddenly they were there, and they haven’t left him since."

Kristina swallows. This does not decrease the likelihood of her son having magic, quite the opposite.

She looks at him again, cooing and babbling at the dog in his lap, as if it were a person and not a … not a …

Well, it’s all a bit of a shock is what it is, but she’s always been rather pragmatic and so she swallows again and nods, already drafting messages to the Magical Council and the Head of the Academy in her head. So Wilhelm will take a seat on the Magical Council instead of having a career in the military. The public will have questions when the time comes, but as long as he still fulfills his duties as a working royal she can live with that. Maybe it'll even prove useful.

"Doggie," Wilhelm squeals, while the dog runs circles around her son, tail wagging and a new butterfly appearing with every clap of his hands. "Doggie, doggie, doggie."

They better be able to come immediately.

[drosera-nepenthes]

[epoque-victorienne]

[royalty-nobility]

King Ludwig I of Bavaria with his Family, Jointly Examining the Painting ‘The Arrival of King Otto of Greece into Napflio"

Artist: Peter von Hess (German, 1792-1871)

Date: 1835

Ludwig I or Louis I (25 August 1786 – 29 February 1868) was King of Bavaria from 1825 until the 1848 revolutions in the German states. When he was crown prince, he was involved in the Napoleonic Wars. As king, he encouraged Bavaria's industrialization, initiating the Ludwig Canal between the rivers Main and the Danube. In 1835, the first German railway was constructed in his domain, between the cities of Fürth and Nuremberg, with his Bavaria joining the Zollverein economic union in 1834. After the July Revolution of 1830 in France, Ludwig's previous liberal policy became increasingly repressive; in 1844, Ludwig was confronted during the Beer riots in Bavaria. During the revolutions of 1848 the king faced increasing protests and demonstrations by students and the middle classes. On 20 March 1848, he abdicated in favour of his eldest son, Maximilian.

Ludwig lived for another twenty years after his abdication and remained influential. An admirer of ancient Greece and the Italian Renaissance, Ludwig patronized the arts and commissioned several neoclassical buildings, especially in Munich. He was an avid collector of arts, amassing paintings from the Early German and Early Dutch periods as well as Graeco-Roman sculptures.

All living legitimate agnatic members of the House of Wittelsbach descend from him.

[hotelbooking]

25hours Hotel The Royal Bavarian At 25hours Hotel The Royal Bavarian, guests are treated to a range of entertainment facilities that ensure a memorable and enjoyable stay. The hotel boasts a vibrant bar, where visitors can unwind and socialize while sipping on expertly crafted cocktails. With its trendy and lively atmosphere, the bar is the perfect place to start the evening or wind down after a day of exploring Munich. For those seeking relaxation and rejuvenation, the hotel offers a luxurious sauna facility. Step into the serene oasis and let the warmth envelop you as you unwind and let go of all your stress. The sauna provides the perfect escape from the bustling city, allowing guests to recharge and pamper themselves. Additionally, 25hours Hotel The Royal Bavarian features a gift and souvenir shop, where guests can find unique treasures to take home as mementos of their stay. Whether it's a piece of local artwork, a traditional Bavarian trinket, or a stylish accessory, the shop...

[langernameohnebedeutung]

So I noticed something interesting linguistically during my Spanish lessons but then I couldn't find a reason why and thought maybe you would have an idea?

Why does the word 'German' change so much from language to language? I mean you said Deutsch but we say German. But then in Spanish, it's Alemán. That's a massive change across three language. And I know they're from different language families but it still seems like a big change, I wonder why

I mean...yeah, it's kind of a situation

The thing is, Germany was only united as a single country in 1871. Before that, it was really a conglomerate of many different small cities, dukedoms, and kingdoms under the Holy Roman Empire (and before that: Tribes)

Modern-day Germany was just beyond the edge of civilisation during ancient times - Everything to the west and South, including France and England, was conquered and named and cartographed by the Romans but Germania was what was on the "other side":

The beige part was where civilisation ended for the Romans. Everything beyond the Limes was barbarian woods and most attempts to conquer there ended in military disasters like the battle of the Teuteburger Forest so ...not much progress was being made.

The name "Germania", that was used for EVERYTHING beyond the Limes border was apparently adopted from the word the Gauls used for the peoples they knew were living right there on the other side - and which meant something like "people of the forest" or possibly "neighbours" (which means the Romans might have done that ancient thing where they asked the Gauls: "Who lives over there?" and the Gauls were "Oh, yeah, those guys are our neighbours who sometimes come to our markets and that we fight with sometimes and who talk a little weird" and the Romans were like: "Ah, so the name of everyone living in the great beyond is 'Neighbours' and just stamped that name on a large chunk of the continent full of people who had never met a Gaul and had never heard of the word "Germania")

And because that area wasn't centralised the way the former colonies of Rome were, this pattern continued - when "states" (there was no modern-day statehood then, I guess the closest word would be "Reiche" but that would be Empires in English but that also doesn't describe it accurately and Reich has a Connotation in English and kingdom suggests a kind of continuity that didn't exist yet...) interacted with the people who lived in these lands, they often falsely assumed a level of social cohesion that didn't exist. One example is when Charlemagne pushed East, he would often make deals with the pagan Saxon tribes to please stop raiding all the nice monasteries he tried to establish - but it happened again and again, and people at the time concluded that the Saxons simply didn't honour their word. The problem was, that the Saxons were not united under one ruler and were not one cohesive tribe - so just because one of them made a deal to stop raiding monasteries, this doesn't mean anyone else got the memo or felt obliged to stop plundering those monks.

Even today, this kind of happens: Like "teutonic" being used for "german" because Teutons were a German tribe or people identifying Germany with Bavaria bc they hear a lot about the Oktoberfest or "Prussian" and "German" being equated because between 1871 and 1918, the Hohenzollern, being both the royal House of Prussia and the Kaiserhaus, largely dictated Germany's foreign policy and impression to the rest of the world, and even before that posing the biggest counter-weight to the Austrian/Austro-Bavarian role on the German-speaking playing field and often symbolising the different cultures (e.g. protestant vs catholic) existing across the German-countries-minus-Switzerland.

And this is also how the name thing happened: "Deutsch" just means "of the people" and was largely used for the language (hence "Dutch", being a very similar language to German, also having that very similar name, except, since they were the "Low Countries" (flat as a pancake land) of the Holy Roman Empire, they eventually took that name for themselves and their language when they became independent - the Netherlands speaking nederlands, while Belgish dutch-speakers speak "vlaams" after the region "Flanders") But since Germany never "separated" from the Holy Roman Empire but is largely considered its successor, there was no reason to make a regional name the name for a new nation. It just remained "the nation/the people".

Over the centuries, the other countries usually took whatever name there was for the regional tribe of Deutsche/people they dealt with and applied that to the whole thing: If you dealt primarily with the Alemanni people, you would use a word like the French "Allemagne", the English lived on an island and mostly kept using the Latin name "Germania" - which became "Germany". In Finland and Estonia it's "Saksa" and "Saksamaa" because being in the East, they mostly dealt with Saxons.

This also turned into an international game of telephone eventually: People who didn't have much contact with different kinds of Europeans would just pick up whatever name the people they dealt with used for Germany. If you had a lot of contact with the French or Spanish, you would pick up a variation of "Alman", if you dealt primarily with the English or Italians, it would be a variety of "Germania"

Then you have countries like Japan, which entered international exchange very late and had a lot of contact with Dutch and German speakers - which is why they say ドイツ - "doitsu". In Mandarin it's "Déguó" - guó meaning "land" and "Dé" for Deutschland.

Then there is also the language barrier: The modern nation-states of Germany and Italy both were once part of the Holy Roman Empire and neither had a standardised language (even today, on the European continent, Germany and Italy might take the prize for the most variations of their own language on the home continent) or considered themselves "German" or "Italian" until very late. So they distinguished between the people who spoke all the variations of their own language and those people above/below the Alps who were absolutely incomprehensible to them due to speaking an entirely different language family - so the Italians also spoke of "tedesco", which is related to the word "deutsch". (Italy cleverly spared itself most of this chaos by not having a lot of neighbours to begin with).

Another language barrier issue was in the East, because that's where Germanic languages and Slavic languages meet. This meant that while everyone who was part of the German(ic) dialect family could communicate with their neighbouring towns and tribes and everyone on the Slavic side could communicate with their neighbouring towns and tribes, they were also faced with those weirdos from the other side of the language barrier who were speaking absolute gibberish (or maybe just stared at you like an idiot and said nothing when you asked them a basic question) That's why in many Slavic languages, the name for "Germany" is a variation of "Niemcy" or "Německo" - which means "mute" or "non-speaker" or "foreigner" - because those were the people they couldn't talk to. Vācija, Vokietija, and Vuoceja also work this way)

Meanwhile, in Germanic languages, it's often names that also incorporate the word "deutsch & land"- Duitsland, Tyskland, Deytshland, Däitschland, Þýskaland etc

(I think to do the language diversity and mutual communication argument some justice, I think it's also important to point out that there wasn't a lot of personal mobility for the average person at the time, so they probably also identified themselves by what little they saw of the world. If even today there are German-speakers that don't understand each other, that issue was bound to be amplified by 1000000 at a time with no standardised writing, no mobility, a thin population, small towns etc. So even if everyone between the furthest North-East of the Germanic language continuum and the lowest South-West could maybe somehow communicate with their respective neighbouring towns and tribes in pre-nation times, if you had snatched two peasants from the respective ends even of what is today Germany and sat them down on the table in the middle, there probably would have been to have even the most basic conversation or know that the other person spoke a variation of the same language - there is an old saying that "a language is a dialect with an army" - and for German, it's more "a dialect-continuum with a bunch of armies fighting each other until eventually, they got 1 army 2000 years late". Meanwhile for the educated, the lingua franca at the time was Latin.)

Now, a lot of countries ...well, eventually became countries. Which meant they could do some marketing of their own and establish their own name for themselves - but Germany, as I mentioned, was only united in 1871. Even if they considered their language "deutsch", they didn't consider themselves "deutsch" for a long time (and when they did, it was considered a radical idea) and as such, there was no centralised government saying "We are deutsch" the way the French kings said "We are French" or the English kings said "We are English" - in fact, the central authority until the early 19th century was the Holy Roman Empire. Their rulers considered themselves the successors of the old Roman Emperors - this was called the "translatio imperii" according to which Charlemagne was the first "new" Emperor" and the Empire continued until Franz II was forced to abdicate bc of Napoleon. Eventually, it was officially considered "Das heilige römische Reich deutscher Nation" - "the holy roman Empire of the german nation" - but that wasn't really a central aspect of anyone's identity.

The average person just identified by whatever colour their personal patch on this map was:

#InOurFlickenteppichEra

So no one really challenged to disagreed with someone speaking of them as "Saksa" or "German" and that's pretty much why everyone has a different name for Germany.

[queenalexandraofdenmark]

One of Empress Sissi's brothers.

Duke Ludwig Wilhelm in Bavaria, circa 1852.

MutualArt lists Alois Löcherer as the author, although from what I gathered he was a photographer, not a painter.

[tiaramania]

TIARA ALERT: Princess Sophie of Bavaria wore the Bavarian Sapphire Floral Tiara for the ball following her wedding Prince Ludwig of Bavaria at Schleissheim Palace in Munich, Germany on 20 May 2023.

[thespookydookie]

helmets

1, 5 - colonel-in-chief helmet, royal bavarian 2nd heavy cavalry regiment

2 - m1916 camo stahlhelm

3 - helmet belonging to e. von falkenhayn

4 - colonel-in-chief czapka, prussian uhlan regiment (2nd brandenburg) no 11

[warwickroyals]

Sunderland’s Royal Jewel Vault (5/∞) ♛

↬ Glencairn Lover's Knot Tiara

In terms of jewelry, Sunderland has a very rich history that dates back centuries. The Glencairn lover's knot tiara is one of the oldest in the royal vault and has been passed down, from parent to child, since the days of King George. It is uncertain when this tiara was made. Featuring thirty-eight pear-shaped pearl pendants and lover's knot motifs, the design has proven popular. The Sunderland lover's knot is joined by the Cambridge and Bavarian lover's knot tiaras. All three tiaras were created in the 1800s, and all three are often mistaken for the much younger British version that was commissioned a century later. Despite their similarities, each of these tiaras have a distinct history and providence. In 1837, the Sunderland variant was gifted to Lady Imogen Longford as she prepared to marry the Duke of Glencairn, the second brother of King Louis III. The tiara was among other priceless gifts, for Imogen wasn't just marrying some prince, but a likely future king. The Duke's two older brothers had no surviving legitimate issue, and Sunderland was in the midst of a fierce succession crisis that pitted brother against brother. Ultimately, Imogen never became queen, that prize belonged to her German sister-in-law, Princess Caroline of Mecklenburg-Stralsund. However, Imogen was the mother of a king, giving birth to the future King George in 1839. As a result, most of her jewels are still worn by members of the royal family to this day. Sunderland's lover's knot tiara is perhaps the most famous of Imogen's jewels, having been worn by princesses and queens from every generation succeeding her. Despite rumours that the tiara is noisy, producing an awful "clacking" sound with every step its wearer takes, it has been a favourite of Queen Matilda Mary, Queen Anne, and Queen Irene in unflinching succession. The tiara is easy to fiddle with, flexible, with the top rows of pearls being removable. Since the 1830s it has starred in countless portraits, official images, and state events. Today, the tiara is on a long-term loan to Tatiana, Princess of Danforth who debuted the tiara in 2001. Since then the tiara has become her one of her most worn, next to her family's own diamond tiara. With the lover's knot's enduring popularity, it will be interesting to see who will don the sparkler next—at this point, it's almost a rite of passage.

A 1927 portrait of Queen Matilda Mary. She wears the tiara with its 18 pearl toppers.

Tatiana, Princess of Danforth wears the tiara sans toppers at a reception in June, 2018.

[livesunique]

Royal House at Schachen, Wetterstein Formation, Bavaria, Germany,

© Bavarian Palace Department

Photo: Karin Weber

[opelman]

Bavarian Tiger by Treflyn Lloyd-Roberts Via Flickr: For the first time in quite a few years, 2024 saw a German Air Force aerobatic flying display (as opposed to role demonstration) during the Royal International Air Tattoo, with the Eurofighter on show. Aircraft: Luftwaffe Eurofighter EF-2000 31+06 from Taktisches Luftwaffengeschwader 74, wearing special Bavarian Tiger markings. Location: RAF Fairford, Gloucestershire.

[sgiandubh]

Do you think it's the studio who want the narrative or sc themselves?

Sometimes I can't tell as S would give us some crumbs but then I feel like c would want this to protect her privacy ...

Sometimes I feel like they aren't on the same page...

Sorry I don't know how to put it into words well so I hope you understand what I mean ...

Dear Narrative Anon,

Make no mistake, These Two are on the same page, always. The division of roles and team-tagging between them are very visible, if you have the patience to look for patterns.

But talking about this particular topic always makes me nervous.

The last thing I would wish to happen is for me to contribute in ANY way to the constant writing and re-writing of that damn script. That being said, my views are no different from those of the entire shipper community. Yes, I know that the idiot savants on the other side explained to us, like we were fools, that NDAs can never be illegal and that these are not the 50s. I will say but one thing (planning a more extensive analysis on NDAs) on this particular point:

An agreement can look absolutely perfect on paper. It all depends on the discussions that led to it being signed by the parties and on its concrete, day-to-day interpretation by the above parties.

But Dorothy Parker says it better:

“Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song, a medley of extemporanea, And love is a thing that can never go wrong, and I am Marie of Romania.”

This splendid, witty, sexy Queen of ours. She made history for a country which wasn't even hers, to start with, because she was born at Eastwell Park (Kent) in 1875, as the granddaughter of both Queen Victoria and the Russian Czar, Alexander II:

She died in this room, at Pelișor Castle (rather an oversized hunting lodge, if you ask me), in 1938. The walls are covered in gold leaf and the Art Nouveau pattern is Scottish thistles:

Funnily enough, S knows this place very well, since that ahem...forgettable Hallmark movie was shot exactly there (and in the bigger Peleș Castle, the real royal summer retreat - looks more like a Bavarian manor, but hey, it was very daring to build it smack on the border of its times).

I am not even sorry for my answer which took you thousands of miles away from the question and from that horrible morning in January 2016. It was completely premeditated :)