Charles at Seventy

by Robert Jobson

  and he said he had had a very difficult time with him and that Gan-Gan [Charles’s great-grandmother, Queen Mary, the consort to George V] was a hard woman and he had been brought up extremely strictly, which had led to his harsh feelings against older people and traditions of all sorts. While he was talking the Duchess kept flitting to and fro like a strange bat. She looks incredible for her age and obviously has her face lifted every day.

  Charles noted that Wallis struck him as a ‘totally unsympathetic and somewhat superficial’ person. All that she talked about was whether she would wear a hat at the Arc de Triomphe de l’Étoile the next day, he said. When asked if he would like to return to England for the last years of his life, the duke half-jokingly responded that no one would recognise him. ‘The whole thing seemed so tragic, the existence, the people and the atmosphere, that I was relieved to escape it after 45 minutes and drive round Paris by night,’ Charles candidly wrote.

  Eight months later the former king was dead. Charles cut short an official visit to Malta to fly home for the old king’s funeral and attended a dinner at Buckingham Palace with the Queen and the duchess. It was the first time the duchess had been to the palace since the abdication of 1936 and the first time the Queen had shown her any form of recognition. After dinner they were joined by other members of the Royal Family to watch Mountbatten’s tribute to his late friend on television. Loyally, Charles accompanied Lord Mountbatten to St George’s Chapel, Windsor, the following evening, where the duke was lying in state.

  The duke’s widow had not been well that day, her mental as well as physical frailties exposed, and had to be supported by Lord Mountbatten. As Charles stood there he watched her as she appeared to be admonishing herself and repeating the words, ‘He gave up so much for so little.’ Once inside the ornate fourteenth-century chapel for the service, Charles was overcome, his eyes brimming with tears as he followed the coffin into the nave. ‘Somehow I felt deeply moved by the whole experience and felt that it was right that we were honouring uncle David like this … The service was simple, dignified to perfection, colourful and wonderfully British,’ he noted.

  The current incumbent of the title Prince of Wales lives a life a world away from all twenty men who have held the title before him. His mother was already married and had given birth to him and his sister, Princess Anne, when she came to the throne in 1952. On 26 July 1958, the headmaster of his prep school at Cheam, Peter Beck, summoned a group of boys to his sitting room; Charles was amongst them. The last days of empire had already become a distant memory and the bright new Commonwealth Games in Cardiff were being broadcast on the BBC. The boys were allowed to watch the closing ceremony on his television. It was announced that, while the Queen was unable to attend, she would address both the packed stadium and the television audience in a recorded message.

  The serene figure of Charles’s mother then appeared on the screen and read out a simple, but, for Charles, life-changing message: ‘The British Empire and Commonwealth Games in the capital … have made this a memorable year for the principality. I have therefore decided to mark it further by an act that will, I hope, give much pleasure to all Welshmen as it does to me. I intend to create my son Charles Prince of Wales today…When he is grown up, I will present him to you at Caernarfon.’ His friends turned to the young prince and offered their congratulations on his elevation in status, much to his discomfort.

  He later recalled the announcement at a dinner in Caerphilly Castle in July 2008 to celebrate his half-century as the Prince of Wales. ‘I remember with horror and embarrassment how I was summoned with all the other boys at my school to the headmaster’s sitting room, where we all had to sit on the floor and watch television. To my total embarrassment I heard my mama’s voice – she wasn’t very well at the time and could not go. My father went instead and a recording of the message was played in the stadium saying that I was to be made the Prince of Wales. All the other boys turned around and looked at me and I remember thinking, “What on earth have I been let in for?” That is my overriding memory.’ The prince said later it was one of the greatest privileges possible to be the twenty-first Prince of Wales. ‘I have tried my best – it may not be very adequate to live up to the motto of my predecessors, “Ich Dien – I Serve”,’ he said.

  Eleven years later at Caernarfon Castle at an investiture modelled on the one for his great-uncle David in 1911, he was sworn in as the Prince of Wales. On the eve of the initiation Charles boarded the royal train with his parents bound for north Wales. They knew that the pageant had to be perfect and hoped for a positive response. They had no choice but to trust in the security already in place. Fanatics had formed what they called the Free Wales Army and had finally won the attention of the police and security services after an RAF warrant officer was seriously injured in an incident. Then the gang planted a bomb that destroyed the Temple of Peace in Cardiff. Another bomb was found in the lost-luggage department of the railway station. Anonymously, too, it was announced that the Prince of Wales was on their target list. Charles was understandably uneasy.

  After four terms at Trinity College, Cambridge, the prince was sent to the University College of Wales at Aberystwyth in order to learn Welsh before his formal investiture as the Prince of Wales. This was a political decision rather than a cultural one, amid a revival of nationalism in Scotland and Wales. Just before his departure to the Welsh college, Charles recorded his first radio interview and, not surprisingly, he was asked about his attitude towards the hostility in the principality. ‘It would be unnatural, I think, if one didn’t feel any apprehension about it. One always wonders what’s going to happen … As long as I don’t get covered in too much egg and tomato I’ll be all right. But I don’t blame people demonstrating like that. They’ve never seen me before. They don’t know what I’m like. I’ve hardly been to Wales, and you can’t really expect people to be overzealous about the fact of having a so-called English prince to come amongst them,’ he said.

  To cancel the university term in Wales would have been a public-relations disaster for the government and indeed for Charles himself. It was decided it would be a weakness to bow to extremist threats. So they went ahead regardless. Upon his arrival at Pantycelyn Hall, where he would share accommodation with 250 other students, Charles was met by a 500-strong cheering crowd. He was deeply touched. In the end the prince enjoyed his time there and was treated kindly in Aberystwyth. His period of study there passed without incident.

  He wrote to a friend,

  If I have learned anything during the last eight weeks, it’s been about Wales…they feel so strongly about Wales as a nation, and it means something to them, and they are depressed by what might happen to it if they don’t try and preserve the language and the culture, which is unique and special to Wales, and if something is unique and special, I see it as well worth preserving.

  Years later he said the time he spent studying there were among his fondest memories of times he has spent in the principality. He recalled with pleasure the ‘memorable times spent exploring mid-Wales during my term at Aberystwyth University and learning something about the principality and its ancient language, folklore, myths and history.’

  More bombs were promised by the militant Welsh for Caernarfon on the actual day of his instalment as the Prince of Wales on 1 July 1969. Charles was driven through the town in an open carriage on his way to the castle past cheering crowds. As the guests and choir sang ‘God Bless the Prince of Wales’, he was conducted to the dais and knelt before the Queen. He would later write that he found it profoundly moving when he placed his hands between his mother’s and spoke the oath of allegiance.

  The Queen then presented the prince to the crowd at Eagle Gate and at the lower ward to the sound of magnificent fanfares. After that he was again paraded through the streets before retiring aboard the Royal Yacht at Holyhead for a well-deserved dinner, an emotionally exhausted but very happy prince. Buoyed by the experience, the prince noted, ‘As long as I do not take mys
elf too seriously I should not be too badly off.’

  The next day Charles set off without the rest of the family to undertake a week of solo engagements around the principality. He recalled being ‘utterly amazed’ by the positive reaction he received. As the tour progressed south, the crowds grew even bigger. At the end of it, Charles arrived exhausted but elated at Windsor Castle. He retired to write up his diary, noting the silence after the day’s cheers and applause, reflecting that he had much to live up to and expressing the hope that he could provide constructive help for Wales.

  Unlike previous bearers of the title, Charles has chosen to cultivate close contacts within the principality. He is by no means obliged to do so, and indeed none of his immediate predecessors did nearly as much. He purchased a 192-acre estate near the village of Myddfai, Llandovery, Carmarthenshire, through his Duchy of Cornwall trust, called Llwynywermod, also known as Llwynywormwood, just outside the Brecon Beacons National Park. Adapted from a former model farm in Carmarthenshire, it bears witness to his philosophy of sustainable building with a structure traditionally made from existing and locally sourced materials, an ecologically sound heating system and elegant interiors that harmonise perfectly with the architecture.

  He uses it for meetings, receptions and concerts, and as the base for his several yearly visits to Wales, including the annual week of summer engagements, known in his annual schedule as ‘Wales Week’. He says he wants it to be a ‘showcase for traditional Welsh craftsmanship, textiles and woodwork, so as to draw attention to the high-quality small enterprises, woollen mills, quilt-makers, joiners, stonemasons and metalworkers situated in rural parts of Wales’. It enables him, he says, to feel part of the local community. To him, he says, preserving this sense of community ‘is timeless’.

  When asked, how important it was for him to have a retreat in Wales, Charles said, ‘Very important! Having been as Prince of Wales for fifty-five years [at the time of the interview], it enables me, on various occasions, to be part of the local community around Llandovery and to have a base for entertaining and meeting people from throughout the principality.’

  He went on, ‘Wales has still preserved its wonderful sense of community, particularly in the rural areas, and Llandovery, an old sheep drovers’ town, somehow maintains those priceless assets of its own community hospital, family GPs, a rugby club [of which I am proud to be patron], a railway station and a strong connection with the family farming communities in the surrounding countryside. Some may say this is old-fashioned, but to me it is timeless; the bedrock of our humanity in a profound relationship with nature and the very heart of Wales’s cultural, social and spiritual heritage.’

  During Wales Week of 2018, he attended an important birthday party to celebrate the National Health Service turning seventy just four months before he would himself. He opted to celebrate the occasion at a garden party in Ysbyty Aneurin Bevan, a 107-bed hospital that opened in 2010 and was named after the founder of the NHS, the Labour politician Aneurin Bevan, who is credited with establishing free healthcare in the UK, the guiding principle of the NHS.

  He also made a group of women laugh when he asked if they all had their babies here. ‘Oh, no, sir, we’re all in our fifties!’ one chuckled. The group told him they worked in the mental-health department, and he complimented them on ‘a fantastic job’. Strolling past the minor-injury department, the future king came face to face with a skeleton known as ‘Elvis the Pelvis’. ‘What have you done to this?’ he joked as he pointed at the bones. It is typical of the relaxed manner with which he conducts himself on such public engagements, putting those he meets, who are usually very nervous, totally at their ease. He was in Wales as part of a week of events that included having a bridge named after him and joining in the summer festivities in a tiny riverside village with his wife Camilla.

  The bridge naming had been controversial. Not everyone in the principality, it seemed, had warmed to the government-backed decision to rename the Second Severn Crossing the Prince of Wales Bridge. In fact, it was roundly criticised by politicians on the left and Welsh nationalists when it was announced. Secretary of State for Wales, Alun Cairns played down the negativity, saying he was not surprised, and insisted, probably with confidence, that the ‘wider, silent majority is absolutely with us’. He urged ‘republicans’ disliking the plans to ‘respect’ the prince because of the work he had done in the community over many years. It marked Charles’s being given the Prince of Wales title sixty years ago, he said, and his turning seventy, and the decision that had been sanctioned by the Queen and Prime Minister Theresa May would stand. It all went on above Charles’s head and, on 2 July, the prince and the duchess stopped off at the Second Severn Crossing to unveil a plaque to mark the new name.

  Alun Cairns said afterwards he was delighted by the naming ceremony, which he said marked the start of a new era of cross-border opportunity. As for the controversy, Mr Cairns had said the silent majority backed the plan and respected the prince for the work he did in the community.

  He went on, ‘I know some republicans who absolutely strongly support the charities that he stands for – the Prince’s Trust, PRIME Cymru, Business in the Community – and the fantastic work that they do. And I would hope that they would at least look at the work of those charities and recognise that this is a fitting title for that work, if nothing else.’

  This Prince of Wales, the twenty-first to hold the title, perhaps due to the length of time he has occupied the role and the epoch of his stewardship, is different from those who have come before. Throughout his life he has confronted orthodoxy head on, no matter the personal cost to him or his reputation. A pioneer, he has demonstrated his belief in the progress of mankind – but certainly not at any cost.

  He asks only that progress be touched with humanity and be guided by the gentler side of the human spirit. Progress can only be real progress, he believes, if it embraces the harmony of nature and that the earth’s natural balance is not destroyed in the process. Nature – indeed, our earth itself, according to the prince – is there to guide, enhance and teach us not to be drained or used as a resource. He believes it is nature that embraces diversity. ‘Our ability to see beauty in nature is entirely consequential in our being a part of nature itself,’ he insists. ‘Nature is the source, not us.’

  The prince maintains that we all have a personal responsibility to avoid draining our natural environment of resources, even if it leaves him open to looking just a little absurd. On one occasion the prince insisted on returning to Balmoral Castle whilst on a break at the Queen’s estate in the Scottish Highlands after a long drive through the estate in Range Rovers, complete with his entourage of PPOs and some gillies – because he had left his bathroom light on. When it was suggested to him that the police simply radio back and ask a housemaid to turn off the light, he insisted, ‘No, no, I can’t do that, I have a personal responsibility.’ The entire party, Range Rovers and policemen, had to return to the castle so the prince could turn the light off.

  Charles can be amusing when he is not aware of it. On another occasion at Balmoral he was with a group fly fishing on the River Dee. He had caught nothing all morning while his guests seemed to be hauling out fish for fun. In the afternoon he decided to move to their spot while they went to his. The same thing happened, with the prince again out of luck. His gillie was getting more and more tense as the hours went by. Eventually, when he emerged from the river in his waders and called it a day, there was the delicate matter of tipping the gillie. ‘How much should I give him?’ the prince asked his policeman, only to be heard saying loudly, ‘Fifty pounds…that does seem rather a lot, I didn’t catch a thing.’

  In another instance he advised Camilla to stop wasting energy by heating her swimming pool at Ray Mill House near the picturesque Wiltshire village of Lacock during winter. She had rightly been advised to keep it on to avoid the pipes freezing and bursting and causing damage to the pump, which is exactly what happened, costing thousands of pou
nds to repair.

  A man most at home in the English countryside at his beloved Highgrove estate in Gloucestershire, Charles appreciates that, for mankind to have a future, humanity – the dominant and most destructive species – must learn to coexist with its natural environment, crucially in harmony with other species and the kingdom Plantae all around us. His bugbear is humanity’s irresponsible destruction of the world’s rainforests, which he often describes in his speeches as ‘the earth’s lungs’. ‘The Earth is under threat. It cannot cope with all that we demand of it,’ he writes with conviction in his provocative book Harmony. ‘It is losing its balance and we humans are causing this to happen.’

  Cities and towns must not, he insists, be solely about construction – a mass of high-rise buildings, glass structures, roads and infrastructure – but must be designed for the sake of those who live and work there. The prince maintains that we all need a sympathetic landscape, one that embraces the emotions and character of its inhabitants, so that they can live in concord with the environment they find themselves in. When we achieve this equipoise he calls it ‘active but balanced state harmony’. He writes in Harmony, ‘The active state of balance… is just as vital to the state of the natural world as it is for human society,’ he writes.