by Kitty Kelley
Charles arrived the next day to survey the damage. He called it “a tragedy,” then left for a shooting party at Sandringham. The Queen’s other children, Princess Anne and Prince Edward, did not show up at all.
The sixty-six-year-old monarch looked worn and beleaguered as she tramped through the charred remains. Of all her royal residences, Windsor Castle, the symbol of her dynasty, was her favorite. It was where she had lived as a child during World War II. It also was the main repository of her art, considered the most important private collection in the world. Her holdings included works by Rembrandt, da Vinci, Holbein, Rubens, and Vermeer, as well as priceless porcelain, tapestries, furniture, and armor from William the Conqueror.
In her hooded slicker and rubber boots, she bleakly surveyed the tangle of fire trucks, hoses, and ladders. It was her forty-fifth wedding anniversary, and her husband was in Argentina—with another woman. “Philip was traveling with us as president of the World Wildlife Fund,” a member of his group reported, “and while I don’t recall seeing him with Susan Barrantes [as her daughter, Sarah Ferguson, later alleged], there was talk about him and his secretary…. What I remember most is the board of directors meeting the morning after the fire…. We were all talking about the television coverage of the Queen and Prince Andrew at Windsor Castle, hauling out the debris. Philip walked into the room [in Buenos Aires] and started the meeting without mentioning a word about the fire, about his wife, or his son. We couldn’t believe it. Not one word.”
Britain’s heritage secretary declared the fire a national disaster and expressed the nation’s sympathy. He promised the Queen the government would restore her castle. But with no fire insurance, he said the cost to taxpayers would be about $80 million. He said people would be “proud” to carry the burden. England, though, was mired in a recession, and Her Majesty’s subjects resented the implication that they should pay for the restoration.
“While the castle stands, it is theirs,” wrote Janet Daley in the Times, “but when it burns down, it is ours.”
The Palace argued that it was the government’s responsibility to purchase the Queen’s fire insurance.
“For the richest woman in the world?” boomed a Member of Parliament.
“She’s not the richest,” retorted a courtier. He flashed a recently published list of the country’s wealthiest women, showing the Queen ranked tenth, with assets of about $150 million, which disputed previous estimates of her wealth at $7.5 billion. The Palace recognized the line between the “haves” and the “have nots”; and to some of her subjects, Her Majesty just had too much. So when Business Age magazine said she was the wealthiest person in Britain, the Palace protested to the Press Complaints Commission. The Queen’s courtiers said it wasn’t fair to lump in royal residences, art treasures, and crown jewels with her personal wealth. The commission agreed and said the evaluation should be lowered from billions to millions.
“I’m sure that will be immensely comforting to my unemployed constituents,” said the MP.
The country’s largest-selling tabloid, the News of the World, asked its readers to vote on the issue. Providing two telephone numbers, the paper said to call one number if “we should pay” and another if “she should pay.” There were sixteen thousand calls, and fifteen thousand said “she should pay.”
“She” struck a profitable pose. Like a business tycoon who recognizes there’s money to be made in changing with the times, the Queen saw there was a dynasty to be saved. Not even the British monarchy could survive indefinitely in the thin air of unaccountable privilege. So she announced through her Prime Minister that she would start paying taxes. She also agreed to open Buckingham Palace to the public for two months a year. She said she would charge $12 admission to help finance restoration of Windsor Castle. And she would also help restore the castle with profits from the Palace gift shop, where tourists could purchase commemorative cup-and-saucer sets ($36) and crown-shaped chocolates ($6). Over the objections of her husband, she agreed to give up the royal yacht, Britannia, in 1997. That was when it was scheduled to be decommissioned to spare the taxpayer the expense of an overhaul.* Also, to the dismay of her relatives, she removed most of them from the public payroll and reimbursed the government for everyone but herself, her mother, and her husband. This gesture returned approximately $14 million to the taxpayers. But she kept herself on the Civil List for $11,850,000 a year, her mother for $972,000 a year, and her husband for $547,000 a year.
Perhaps to underscore his worth, Philip had agreed in 1993 to be profiled by journalist Fiammetta Rocco in the Independent on Sunday. His office had provided her with the phone numbers of fifty people to call. Her most interesting interview proved to be with the Duke himself. “I arrived at the Palace on the day of the Queen’s annus horribilis speech,” recalled the writer, who had to submit her questions in advance. “He had barred all personal questions about his family—his parents, his wife, his children. He only wanted to discuss issues, but not all issues. I couldn’t ask about ordination of women in the church, but he would talk endlessly about the World Wildlife Fund.”
During the interview, the reporter strayed slightly from the script. She mused that Philip seemed to be a man surrounded by many myths. He brightened slightly, so she proceeded.
“One myth is that you have had many mistresses.”
He looked exasperated. “Have you ever stopped to think that for the last forty years, I have never moved anywhere without a policeman accompanying me? So how the hell could I get away with anything like that?” He stared straight ahead and waited for the next question. That subject was closed.
His response amused the former head of the Royal Protection Service, who chuckled when he read it. “The truth is our function is to protect the person, not his morals…. If he’s inside a woman’s flat, we stand outside. We don’t care what he’s doing inside as long as he emerges unharmed… so he can get away with whatever he wants…. We’re not there to protect him as the Queen’s husband, but to guard him as the Duke of Edinburgh… there’s a considerable difference….”
The British historian and writer Richard Hough, who spent time with Philip in the 1970s researching a book and traveling with him on the Britannia, acknowledged the other women in his life. “There were two secretaries on board ship, both very pretty,” he recalled. “And I know that he keeps a mistress… somewhere in Notting Hill. But he was very discreet.” Years before, Philip had underscored the importance of discretion when he was asked the secret of a successful marriage. “A home of one’s own,” he said, “and common sense.”
The reporter did not push the point with Philip. “A second myth,” she said, “is that Prince Andrew is not really your son. That he is the son of Lord Porchester [the Queen’s racing manager].”
Philip did not flinch. Knowing that any reaction would be front-page news, he said nothing. He sat as impassive as stone. “Like a child with porridge in his mouth,” the reporter later told a colleague. She had addressed the issue of his son’s paternity because it had been raised weeks before by Nigel Dempster in The New York Times Magazine: “Get hold of a picture of Prince Andrew and then one of Lord Porchester at the same age,” Dempster was quoted telling the writer Christopher Hitchens. “You’ll see that Prince Philip could never have been Andy’s father.”
The Palace did not challenge the published statement, and neither did Philip. When his silence became uncomfortable, Rocco moved on.
“The third myth is a rumor that you once had an affair with Valéry Giscard d’Estaing [former President of France],” she said.
Philip laughed. “Oh, Giscard is a delightful old boy, but I never stayed at the Elysée Palace when he was President. I would stay there when [Vincent] Auriol was President [1947– 1954], and he was a frightful buggerer.”
The reporter laughed, too, as if to acknowledge that her impertinent question deserved no more than his mischievous answer. A few days later a courier knocked on her door with an envelope. The thick heavy whit
e stationery from Windsor Castle contained a curt message from HRH Prince Philip: “Do not use the Auriol anecdote on your tape.” And her editor received a call from the Queen’s press secretary, complaining about the reporter’s impudence. Both journalists were summoned to the Palace for a meeting with Prince Philip’s private secretary, Sir Brian McGrath. He reminded them he had provided the names and phone numbers of people whose recollections lent credibility to the profile. “At least, while those recollections remain on the record,” said the courtier. The implication was clear. If the journalists used Philip’s tape-recorded comment, they would lose their sources, who had agreed to be quoted because Philip gave permission. Without named sources, the journalists knew the profile would lack punch.
They argued that the anecdote about the late President of France showed Prince Philip’s sense of humor. The Palace was not to be conned. A deal was struck: the newspaper would not use the anecdote, and the Palace would not withdraw their sources.
Afterward Philip said he would never give another interview to a British reporter. But by then his personal life, once off limits to the press, had become vulnerable. The Independent on Sunday reported that he and the Queen slept in separate bedrooms. Vanity Fair said he kept a mistress. The New Yorker said it was a “succession of actress-mistresses who regularly appeared on television, prompting viewers in the know to smile and say, ‘She’s one of his.’ ” For those not in the know, the Tatler published “The Royal Collection,” which provided the names, biographies, and photographs of thirteen women described as “the Duke of Edinburgh’s fan club.” The list included minor British stars but omitted major American ones like Jane Russell, Zsa Zsa Gabor, and Shirley MacLaine. The British aristocrats included two Princesses, one Duchess, one Countess, and five titled ladies, including the seventy-year-old wife of one of the Queen’s former equerries. “That’s an appalling image of my mother-in-law—in bed with Prince Philip,” pooh-poohed the woman’s son-in-law. “It’s like Love Among the Ruins.”
“The [Tatler] list was a good lineup but hardly complete,” said the columnist Taki. “Everybody knows that Sasha [the Duchess of Abercorn] is Philip’s mistress…. She’s lasted the longest—six to eight years…. He would take the Britannia to the Caribbean to attend an opening in St. Kitt’s because she would be there.” A private photograph from one Caribbean trip was sold to newspapers, showing Philip with only a towel wrapped around his waist. He had his arm around the Duchess, who was in her swimsuit. Her husband, James, who was standing a few feet behind her, was cropped out of the picture. “James is the nicest man in the world,” said Taki. “He’d have to be to put up with Philip.”
Before he died in 1993, John Barratt, who was Lord Mountbatten’s private secretary for twenty years, also discussed Philip’s extramarital love affairs. “The Duchess of Abercorn is Philip’s now, but Mountbatten had her first—she was his godchild, and he loved her greatly, although she was forty years younger. Then he passed her on to Philip….
“The Queen can be very imperious and cold. Austere, really. So it’s understandable why Philip goes elsewhere, and make no mistake about it, he does. But he hasn’t had as many affairs as people think. Many women are social mountaineers who feed off the association with him. For them, it’s a badge of honor to be perceived as a lover of the Queen’s husband…. I’d put Patricia Kluge in that category,” he said, referring to the former soft-porn belly dancer from Liverpool. “Before her divorce from John W. Kluge, the American tycoon, she had him purchase an estate near Balmoral and obtain Philip’s trainer to teach her carriage riding, which was his favorite sport…. She was always ringing up to say, ‘I’m having a party and would like you to come and bring some friends.’ Through her husband, who was worth $6 billion, she was too rich for the royal family to ignore. Philip and Charles worked her for over $500,000 to sponsor the Royal Windsor Horse Show, but I seriously doubt whether Philip took a canter outside the rails for her….”
Barratt went on to say: “Now Princess Alexandra [the daughter of Princess Marina, who married the Duke of Kent] is different…. She and Philip have been long involved…. She’s the Queen’s first cousin—a tall blond beauty who married Sir Angus Ogilvy…. Her looks are reminiscent of Princess Anne, who is Philip’s favorite child. You’ll notice that many of his mistresses have his daughter’s long, lean looks. The same horsey teeth, arched hair, Knightsbridge [slim] legs….
“Basically, Philip is not a happy man. He’s solidly married, but not happily…. He’s blindingly energetic; travels constantly to fill the void of being the Queen’s husband…. He probably should’ve married some rich American woman, had a good time, and then divorced her. At least he’d have autonomy. Here, he looks like a kept man, and for someone as proud as he is, that’s dehumanizing.”
What the Queen did not see, she overlooked, and her husband pursued his flirtations with discretion. Except for the occasional actress, he confined himself to married women within the nobility. The aristocratic wives were impressed by his royal lineage and reveled in his attentions. The few who were not flattered pretended otherwise because he was married to the Queen. “It’s a subtle form of blackmail,” said one woman, who was subjected to what she called “an excessive overture” from the Duke of Edinburgh.
When one of the Queen’s bankers was invited to Balmoral for a house party, he brought his very attractive wife. Philip insisted that she and the other female guests join him in a musical parlor game. He arrayed the women in a circle around him, and he stood in the middle. Placing a bottle of wine between his legs, he told the women they had to remove it without using their hands. The competition was to take the bottle away from him with their legs before the music stopped. “No hands, now,” he warned the banker’s wife. “No hands.” Deeply embarrassed, she played the Duke’s game because she said it would have been rude to decline.
“My wife felt the same way when he asked her to dance,” said Robin Knight Bruce, an army officer. “Philip is Colonel-in-Chief of the Queen’s royal Irish Hussars, and he comes to the regimental dinners to grope the officers’ wives. When he did it to my wife, I went to my supervisor and said, ‘Do not let the fucking Duke of Edinburgh dance with my wife again or I’ll kick him in the balls and so will she.’ ”
For a sophisticated man who spoke three languages, traveled the world, collected art, painted, and published numerous books, the Duke of Edinburgh could act like an oafish adolescent. One of his son’s young girlfriends said she was “terribly embarrassed” by his juvenile behavior. Romy Adlington was sixteen years old when she spent her first weekend with Prince Edward and the royal family. She said that the sixty-six-year-old duke leered and winked, patted her bottom when she walked down the hall to her room, and ogled her cleavage during dinner. She did not realize that it could have been worse.
“If it’s in his head, it’s on his plate,” said one of his former equerries, dismissing Philip’s frank observations about women and sex. The former aide smiled as he described the Duke as “a man’s man.” In his defense, the aide offered a “boys will be boys” shrug. He laughed as he recalled Philip’s comment at a film premiere when he saw Elizabeth Taylor in the flesh. As the Duke walked toward the star in a receiving line, he noted her revealing gown and her bosom, which he said, looked like two pillows. Turning to his aide, he said, “Hop in.”
He theorized that the differences between men and women were best illustrated by women’s ability to knit. “I do think it shows that girls have an ability to disassociate what they are doing with their hands from what they are doing with their minds,” he told the writer Glenys Roberts. “It is why they are able to carry out repetitive production line jobs which intellectuals find so deadening. I once asked a girl in a factory what she thought about while she was working. She said she thought about her boyfriend, the shopping, the film she was going to see. Fascinating.”
Philip scattered his opinions on a broad canvas, always colorfully, sometimes offensively. The Mother’s Union o
f Great Britain took exception when he equated prostitutes with wives. In defense of hunting, he had said there was no moral difference between killing animals for sport and killing them for money. “It’s like sex,” he said. “I don’t think a prostitute is more moral than a wife, but they are doing the same thing.”
When a Member of Parliament asked him how he could justify being president of the World Wildlife Fund with his pursuit of blood sports, Philip snapped, “Are you a vegetarian?”
“No,” replied the MP, Anthony Beaumont-Dark.
“Do you eat red meat?” Philip demanded.
“Yes, but that’s a different matter from blasting poor birds out of the sky.”
Philip disagreed. “It is like saying that adultery is all right as long as you do not enjoy it.”
The MP smiled. “You, sir,” he said, “might know more about that than me.”
TWENTY
The Princess of Wales stood in the middle of her shoe closet and pointed to three rows of low heels. She waved her hand at the stubby shoes she had worn so she wouldn’t tower over her husband. “You can throw out those dwarfers,” she told her dresser. “I won’t be needing them anymore.” Within days she started wearing her highest heels—the ones with ankle straps and open toes that she called her “tart’s trotters.” She had been liberated by the Prime Minister’s statement to the House of Commons:
It is announced from Buckingham Palace that with regret, the Prince and Princess of Wales have decided to separate. Their Royal Highnesses have no plans to divorce and their constitutional positions are unaffected.
This decision has been reached amicably…. The Queen and Duke of Edinburgh, though saddened, understand and sympathize with the difficulties which have led to this decision….
