Early Life
Prince Michael was born on 4 July 1942, at Coppins, Iver, Buckinghamshire. His father was the Duke of Kent, the fourth-eldest son of George V and Queen Mary. The Duke of Kent was killed in a plane crash near Caithness, Scotland on 25 August 1942, just six weeks after his third child was born. At the time of his birth Prince Michael was seventh in the line of succession to his uncle King George VI.
His mother was the Duchess of Kent (née Princess Marina of Greece and Denmark), a daughter of Prince Nicholas of Greece and Denmark and Grand Duchess Elena Vladimirovna of Russia. As a grandchild of a British sovereign in the male line, he is styled as a Prince of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland with the prefix His Royal Highness.
At his christening on 4 August 1942 at the Private Chapel of Windsor Castle, his godparents were: King George VI (his paternal uncle); the Queen of the Netherlands (for whom her son-in-law Prince Bernhard of the Netherlands stood proxy); the King of Norway (his granduncle); the President of the United States of America (for whom the Duke of Kent stood proxy); the Crown Princess of Greece (who was not present); the Duke of Gloucester (his paternal uncle, who was absent); the Dowager Marchioness of Milford Haven (his grandfather King George V's cousin); and the Lady Patricia Ramsay (his grandfather King George V's cousin). Because of the war, newspapers did not identify the actual location of the christening, and said instead that it took place at "a private chapel in the country."
At the age of 5, Prince Michael was a page boy at the wedding of his cousins, the Princess Elizabeth and the Duke of Edinburgh.
Read more about this topic: Prince Michael Of Kent
Famous quotes containing the words early and/or life:
“Some would find fault with the morning red, if they ever got up early enough.”
—Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)
“It may be that the ignorant man, alone,
Has any chance to mate his life with life
That is the sensual, pearly spouse, the life
That is fluent in even the wintriest bronze.”
—Wallace Stevens (1879–1955)