A Brief History of the House of Windsor (29 page)

There is much to like and admire about Charles. His genuinely caring attitude to social ills is something he developed for himself. He could easily have spent his life making bland, forgettable speeches that avoided controversy. Instead he has chosen to join the fray over issues he believes in, to risk causing outrage and to court criticism that is often shrill to the point of hysteria. Having been an undergraduate in the
rebellious sixties without reflecting any of the concern for social change that preoccupied many young people at that time, he became precisely that sort of ideological crusader in middle age (he has described himself as a ‘dissident’), while his contemporaries were settling down into complacency.

He has wonderfully wide interests. He is not only a qualified pilot but a useful polo player and a watercolourist of some talent. He is also an author. His book about architecture and the environment –
A Vision of Britain
– was a bestseller in the 1980s, and a newer book,
Harmony
(2010), brings together his views on religion, medicine, agriculture and pollution. A children’s book,
The Old Man of Lochnagar
(a story he invented for his younger siblings when they were children), was made into a musical. He is a member of the Magic Circle, that highly secretive association of conjurers, admission to which can only be gained by proven skill in magic. One evening, as television viewers watched a concert by the Bach Choir in London, a camera panned along the rows of singing faces and passed that of Prince Charles, whose presence in their midst was not even referred to by the commentator. He skis and fishes and takes part in archeological digs. He has followed a variety of personal interests and used the opportunities offered by his position to experience a wider spectrum of life than most people realize or give him credit for. And he has a deeply spiritual side. His friendship with the South African writer Laurens van der Post (a godfather to Prince William), whom the press dubbed Charles’s ‘spiritual guru’, reflected a serious preoccupation with metaphysics, as do his visits to the spiritual home of Greek Orthodoxy, Mount Athos.

One aspect of his work that has received little publicity is his interest in Islamic art. He is a patron of the Oxford Centre for Islamic Studies, and knows so much about the subject that he was involved in setting up this institution. He established the Prince’s School of Traditional Arts originally to preserve and pass on Islamic design skills that were being lost in the
lands in which they had been developed. Though the idea of offering postgraduate courses in this field was not his – it was introduced at the Royal College of Art – Charles gave it a permanent home and lent his influence to further it. As a member of staff explained: ‘Skills that you can no longer learn in parts of the Middle East are actually still available here – they have survived in the unlikely setting of Shoreditch!’ The school’s remit has now broadened to include the preservation of
any
artistic tradition that is under threat. There is no other institution that provides such high-level qualifications (the M.Phil and PhD) in this subject.

He is also a prominent agriculturalist, running his estate at Highgrove according to the principles of organic farming to which he is committed. He has created a business empire through the foods marketed under the name Duchy Originals, an enterprise that has made healthy profits, which are ploughed back into the charities he supports. He is also possessed of strong opinions on alternative medicine that can infuriate members of the medical profession (he has suggested that GPs offer homeopathic remedies as well as traditional ones) and, typically, he has set up yet another official body – this time the Prince’s Foundation for Integrated Health – to further his beliefs. Though he may lack a qualified doctor’s years of study and practical training, no one can doubt his sincerity when he makes pronouncements on medical matters, or question the fact that his opinions are the result of deep thought and reflection.

What Charles has brought to the role of Prince of Wales is a good deal of imagination. He has not only fulfilled the normal duties of the post – deputizing for his mother in opening ceremonies, conferring honours, visiting regions, cities, towns, serving as titular head of military units – he has also found ways to affect agricultural, architectural and social policy. His influence is unofficial but immense, as can be seen in the manner in which he prevented two high-profile building projects from being carried out. One was the proposed
extension to the National Gallery in Trafalgar Square, memorably described by the prince in a speech as being like ‘a monstrous carbuncle on the face of an old and much-loved friend’. The other was the former Chelsea Barracks, scheduled for redevelopment as luxury housing. Though a less conspicuous site, this too was architecturally sensitive, and a well-placed letter from the prince to the owner of the land, the Sultan of Qatar, stopped work almost immediately.

Naturally, the prince is highly unpopular with certain members of the architectural profession, as well as with many others. Nothing could be more calculated to infuriate those of a ‘progressive’ bent than the notion of an unelected public figure, lacking any professional training in the fields in which he voices strident views, undoing the work of others in the name of aesthetics. His preference for craftsmanship and beauty draw predictable sneers from those who think he is trying to recreate a cosy – as well as mythical – bucolic past through the building projects he encourages (the new town of Poundbury, built on land owned by him in Dorset, is an example). Architects naturally want to produce work that is original and individual, enabling them to set their own stamp on the age; pastiches of established styles allow them little scope to do so. Though of course there are members of the profession who specialize in traditional forms, many take the view that now technology enables them to build higher, more daring and innovative structures, they do not wish to be confined to the more modest scale and unadventurous design of the past, whose buildings are all around us anyway. They also resent the way in which, though their names and reputations can be made by a successful building, they can also be ruined overnight by the negative publicity following a single comment by the prince. His concern for the harmony of the built environment is seen as unacceptable interference, and even bullying. Nevertheless a surprising number of people agree with him. Architects are seen as arrogant, cocksure and uninterested in what the populace actually likes. There are many among his
future subjects who applaud his views, however outspoken they may be.

Royals are naturally expected to take up charitable patronage. They usually do it well, and can become seriously engaged with the causes they officially represent, as has been seen with Princess Anne’s work for Save the Children. Their involvement brings a considerable increase in media interest and funding to the campaigns or organizations they support, and this aspect is a very strong argument in favour of monarchy. There are enough members of the family – seventeen of them at present – undertaking this sort of work to cover a very wide range of organizations, and once connected with a charity they tend to remain its champion for a long time.

Contrast this with the situation in the United States. The First Lady is the traditional, high-profile charitable patron, the only American with a social standing comparable to that of royalty. Once her husband is elected, she chooses a cause – or perhaps one major cause and several minor ones – that she will make her own. Barbara Bush, as is well known, selected child literacy. The trouble is that a president’s wife is only there for four years, or perhaps eight. When she leaves, all her power to raise awareness, to generate funds and attention and prestige, goes with her. Her successor, naturally wanting to make her own mark, will choose something entirely different. With the British royals the charitable connection, and the vital publicity that it brings, is there for their lifetime, and after that they may well be replaced by another family member.

This promise of long-term commitment is seen very obviously in the case of Charles. So far, he has founded seventeen philanthropic organizations, known collectively as the Prince’s Charities. He is also patron of some 350 additional ones throughout the Commonwealth. He established the Prince’s Trust in 1976, aimed at helping young people – aged between eighteen and thirty – with backgrounds as truants or petty criminals, or who had been in care or were long-term
unemployed. It is run by a council chaired by the prince, and best known for giving grants to individuals to start their own business or to develop particular ideas. It also provides business mentoring and valuable work experience for young people. It is able to do this because it raises money through events (several high-profile rock concerts have helped to fund its work) and donations from notable benefactors, including Bill Gates. While its royal origins give it prestige – the queen granted it a charter – it is the business community that provides the all-important financial backing.

Through this and other charitable endeavours, Charles is brought into contact with a world of celebrity glitter in which he would not perhaps be expected to feel at home. In fact, he is quite comfortable in the company of film stars and rock musicians – he is on bantering terms with many of them – though perhaps not as much on their wavelength as newspaper pictures occasionally make him seem. Once, upon entering a room full of media personalities he mentioned,
sotto voce
, that since he never watches television he had no idea who any of them were. It is also authoritatively stated that he wears ear-plugs when attending rock concerts. Hardly surprising, perhaps, for a man whose taste is so firmly entrenched in high culture. He is patron of the Royal Opera and the English and Welsh National Operas as well as president of the Royal Shakespeare Company.

He has by no means confined his interests to his own country or the Commonwealth. As a representative of the British monarchy, his presence can be valuable elsewhere in the world. When, in 1986, Harvard University celebrated its 350th anniversary, it sought a guest speaker who would be suited to the dignity of the occasion. The obvious choice, President Ronald Reagan, apparently could not be asked because his presence would be viewed as ‘political’. Prince Charles was invited instead – as an articulate, interested member of a revered institution – proving perhaps the power of the monarchy to meet all situations and smooth over all differences.

His interest often lies deeper than mere speech-making, however. His Trust has made possible the saving of damaged and endangered literary manuscripts in St Petersburg. His architecture students, as a summer school project, planned the restoration and re-design of Potsdam in Germany, a town – it is the Prussian equivalent of Windsor – that was destroyed by RAF bombers in 1945 and then badly rebuilt by communist planners. He has taken an interest in the heritage of Romania ever since the reign of Nicolae Ceaus¸escu, whose megalomania was responsible for the wholesale destruction of monasteries and churches there. Charles, a member of whose family (Queen Marie) is buried in a Romanian church, has visited the country and become patron of a conservation project there. As if this is not enough, he has bought two houses there, one of them (it seems extraordinary!) in Transylvania. Small wonder that he has been, according to rumour, invited to become king of the country by local monarchists.

That offer may be the nearest he gets to a throne for some time to come. If his mother lives as long as
her
mother did, he will be seventy-nine when he succeeds. There was a notion, during Australia’s bicentennial year in 1988, that he might become Governor-General of the country. He would have been delighted, and would have done the job very well. As we have seen, however, it was made clear as early as the 1920s that Dominions would not have such officials foisted on them by London, and Australian prime ministers have been adamant that not even the country’s future ruler can be given a post that is intended only for one of its own citizens.

Nevertheless, the prince has found a multitude of ways to make himself useful. It would have been very easy to lead a life of mild duty and predominant personal pleasure, as did his predecessor in the twenties and thirties. He could have been a nondescript figure whose opinions no one would have bothered to read in newspapers. Instead he has taken up a host of issues, often stirring a hornet’s nest of controversy in doing so. He has created debate, forced people to think,
focused attention on unpopular causes, and often proved himself to be ahead of the trend in doing so. Whether or not people agree with his views or hate them, he is doing valuable work for the country, the Commonwealth and the world. In the popular parlance, giving ‘value for money’ in terms of hard work and dedication.

A paragon among previous Princes of Wales was Prince Henry, the son of King James I, who may be considered the perfect pattern of an heir to the throne: a Renaissance figure, wise beyond his years, an athlete, a would-be military hero, and – more importantly – the founder of the national and royal collections that have graced the country ever since. Henry died in 1612 as a result of a typhoid fever, all his glorious potential laid waste by his early death. Given a much longer life in which to be useful, has Charles done better than Henry, or any other of his princely predecessors in terms of his commitment, industry, breadth and depth of vision, devotion to duty, imagination, care for the people of the realms over which the British monarch rules? Is he, therefore, the best Prince of Wales there has ever been?

Yes.

‘I don’t deliberately select my friends because of their background. If I enjoy someone’s company, then that’s all that counts. I have many different friends who aren’t from the same background as me and we get on really well . . . it’s brilliant.’

Prince William, in interview

Prince William is, naturally, the prospect for the future that monarchists most cherish. Not only does he offer the physical guarantee that the House of Windsor will continue through another generation, but the hope that a line will eventually be drawn under the unfortunate matter of his parents’ broken marriage. Descended both from Charles and the sainted Diana, he unites both sides of a quarrel that still reverberates.