Short Reigns in History: The Twenty Minute King, the Nine Days Queen and Rochester's Thirty Day Interjim Gayor!

 Short reigns among the ruling elite are not unknown in history.

They are unusual, to be sure, making such rulers mere footnotes in history. Having briefly achieved ultimate power, whether in hereditary monarchies or in elective offices in republics, they didn't really have the time to make a reputation for themselves, good or bad.

The "might have beens" or "what ifs" can tantalize the historian or political scientist, but ultimately can only lead to an airy void.

 And such short-term rulers become the subjects of all sorts of trivia games and television game shows that have been so popular over the years.

Take, for instance, King John I of France and Navarre.

He was the posthumous son of King Louis X of France and, as such, was born king.

He lived only five days. He reigned but never ruled. He was succeeded by his uncle, Philip V.

Possibly the shortest reign in history was that of Louis XIX of France, though he was never enumerated or recognized as such.

He was the son of King Charles X of France, an ultra-royal reactionary who wished to wipe out the memory of the French Revolution. This resulted in serious riots by the bourgeoisie and the intelligentsia, calling for his removal. He also pissed off the French parliament, since he wished to rule autocratically.

Parliament had enough of Charles X, drafted his abdication instrument and ordered him to sign, or else. Then the parliament withdrew for a few minutes, to let Charles think it over. 

Fearing for his life (after all, his older brother, Louis XVI and his wife, Marie Antoinette, were guillotined during the Revolution), he signed, making his son Louis King of France for the next twenty minutes, until the representatives from parliament returned and demanded his signature on the instrument of abdication as well.

They were succeeded as king by their distant cousin, Louis-Phillipe of Orleans. But not as "King of France" but as "King of the French."

One of the most tragic stories of short-term monarchs was that of Lady Jane Grey, the grand-daughter of the much-married King Henry VIII of England's favorite sister.

When Henry's only legitimate son and heir, the rabidly Protestant Edward VI, was dying of tuberculosis at the age of fifteen, he drafted his "Devise for the Succession" to prevent his older Catholic half-sister, Mary, from assuming the crown, as well as disinheriting his Protestant half-sister, Elizabeth.

In it, Edward named his Protestant distant cousin, Lady Jane Grey, as his heir.

The fact that Jane was married to his chief advisor's son was hardly a coincidence.

And Edward had acted illegally, since his Devise never received Parliamentary approval, although a good many people of importance did put their signatures on that document.

When Edward died, Jane was proclaimed Queen in London.

Unfortunately, the people of England, many of them Protestant, supported the Catholic Mary's claim, rose in her behalf and, after a reign of nine days, Jane was imprisoned and found guilty of treason and sentenced to death.

Mary left her at peace, planning to release her at some future date.

Unfortunately, an uprising against Mary's upcoming Spanish marriage forced Mary's hand and Jane went to the block, unwilling to save her life by converting to Catholicism.

She was just past sixteen years of age.

While these instances have been of European monarchs, America has had it's share of short-term political leaders, such as President William Henry Harrison.

Having defeated Martin Van Buren in the presidential election of 1840, he went to his inauguration in March 1841 on horseback without his overcoat or hat and read the longest presidential inauguration speech in history (over two hours) outdoors in the cold.

He took ill and died thirty-one days later, the first US president to die in office, sparking a constitutional crisis because the presidential succession was not completely understood.

Eventually, his grandson, Benjamin Harrison, became the twenty-third US president, lasting considerably longer in that office than did his grandfather.

Which brings us to the mayoral succession in Rochester, which most people who live here don't completely understand either.

When Rochester mayor Lovely Warren accepted a plea deal from the district attorney, she pled guilty to knowingly violating the campaign funding laws (a misdemeanor for which she was probably NOT guilty) in exchange for having all other criminal charges against her dropped (involving her husband's and cousins' drug dealing and illegal weapons charges, as well as endangering the welfare of a child, of which she probably WAS guilty) and her resignation from office.

She announced that her resignation would be effective at midnight, December 1, 2021, which gave her an additional two months to display her egotism and put more of her kiss of death on the body politic of Rochester.

As her term was ending at midnight on December 31, and since her law license and pension remained intact, it was hardly a punishment.

Lots of people assumed that, since Malik Evans was mayor-elect, that he could somehow succeed Lovely Warren as mayor a month early.

Wrong!

According to the city charter, if a mayor resigns, the deputy mayor shall act as mayor for forty days, after which time City Council can appoint someone as mayor until the next election cycle or call for a special election for the office of mayor to fill the office for the remainder of the original mayor's term.

Since Lovely's term was ending thirty days after her resignation, it forestalled any action by City Council and meant that her deputy mayor would act as mayor for thirty days. Evans would have to wait until New Year's Day to assume office.

The local media went apeshit, writing cute little puff pieces about Smith that said a lot of nothing, other than the fact that he was Rochester's first openly gay mayor, which is of no importance, since he was never elected but appointed by Mayor Warren to be her fourth deputy mayor in six years.

What might have been the cause for rejoicing among Rochester's fairy queendom was rather muted since he was never elected to the office by popular vote and by the fact that the Gay Alliance (or Out Alliance, as they recently chose to be known), the usual cheerleaders for gay politicians, went belly-up owing to the chronic financial mismanagement of their organization.

Bearing this in mind, Smith, a charming, handsome man with a shady reputation, is only acting mayor or interim mayor. A Twitter acquaintance of mine, Colonel Nathaniel Rochester, has begun referring to him as the interjim gayor.

It fits. It's cute. It might even make it into the footnote in Rochester's history that Smith will occupy.

And, keeping with the situation of the pandemic, Smith took his oath of office virtually and in isolation because he came down with Covid.

Apart from spending taxpayer money to offer cash bonuses to city employees to be inoculated against Covid, the only proven benefit of which is to enrich the pharmaceutical companies that produce the clearly ineffective vaccine, there really isn't too much that one can expect from his short-term reign over Rochester. Nothing of lasting value, anyway.

And there really isn't too much that Rochester can expect when Malik Evans takes over on January 1.

On with the show! Freak, that is.

Or let's tune in Jeopardy instead!