Diana's Nightmare - The Family (34 page)

'The Princess of Wales would like to single out from the recent wave of misleading reports about the Royal Family assertions in some newspapers this week directed specifically against the Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh. The suggestion that they have been anything other than sympathetic and supportive is untrue and particularly hurtful.'

The careful wording was a classic piece of avoidance because it completely ignored the reason why her royal inlaws needed to be 'sympathetic and supportive'. Besides, at least in Philip's case, it was patently untrue.

IF she compared Prince Philip with her father, Diana could see why she felt uncomfortable in his presence. The eighth Earl Spencer came from a dynasty that had produced 'no eccentrics, no villains, no lunatics, but a long line of worthy, sincere Englishmen'. Diana had forgiven Johnnie Spencer for his cruelty towards her mother. He might lack Philip's larger-than-life aura, but she could talk to him safe in the knowledge that he loved her deeply.

The Duke of Edinburgh was the exact opposite: abrasive, impatient, controversial, superior, almost unlovable. Early in her marriage, she developed the technique of teasing her father-in-law, or pretending to listen to his advice, or flattering his vanity. It took all of her acting skills to pull off a role for which she felt completely inadequate.

The forty-year age gap between them was inescapable. When Diana turned ten, Philip was already fifty, and he celebrated his sixtieth birthday just seven weeks before her wedding. In the intervening years, she had known him as Aunt Lilibet's husband at neighbouring Sandringham and followed him around the estate with the other guns. As she grew older, she realised that he was a figure of towering importance in public life. It was difficult to reconcile the two personae. The more Diana became acquainted with the Philip Legend, the more he became an enigma to her. His four children presented conflicting profiles of the same father.

Charles, from the daunting standpoint of eldest son, felt threatened on two counts. Not only was he the successor to his mother's crown, he was heir to his father's estate in the conventional sense as well. In either role, he was keenly aware that Philip found him wanting. This hurt Charles's pride a great deal, and he was not averse to fighting back. Addressing a prize-giving ceremony to promote 'solidarity between generations' in 1992, Charles pointedly ignored his father's influence on his life, warmly recalling instead chats he had enjoyed with the Queen Mother and Earl Mountbatten. 'Sadly, so often nowadays there is less and less contact between generations,' Charles said. 'I have found it an enormous benefit to be able to talk to my grandmother and to my late uncle.'

According to Stephen Barry, Charles kept a photograph of him with his father on his desk. He had written on it: 'I was not made to follow in my father's footsteps.' This amounted to a declaration of independence by the Prince of Wales, hitherto Charles Mountbatten-Windsor. 'Not to put too fine a point on it, Charles fears his father,' said the Palace insider. 'So much of his early life was spent in his shadow.'

After Charles broke his arm at polo, Diana suggested he retire from what the informed peer called 'his drive to perform upper-class, dangerous things'. She knew that, if he was trying to win reassurance, it certainly wasn't from her. 'I have always been intrigued by the kind of activities which offer danger and excitement,' explained Charles, it's a great challenge to overcome a certain element of natural fear.' it would seem that he is trying to impress his father, not realising he never will,' said the informed peer. 'But I detect in Charles the American concept of the encapsulated mother. He has carried it inside him through life and he checks his actions against what his mother would think. But I no longer think that Charles agonises over his mistakes. I read in his face that he has psychologically quarantined himself from the hurt.'

To Princess Anne, her father was the fount of wisdom, inspiration and strength. She used him as the touchstone in measuring other men. She had always been his little girl, an adventurous tomboy with angelic blonde curls and grey-blue eyes: the perfect daughter. When Philip returned from a four-month absence from home, six-year-old Anne had beaten her older brother up the stairs into his aircraft and jumped into his arms. Charles hung back. Sensing that he was a shy mother's boy, Anne had delighted in bullying him. Like many possessive daughters, only she felt justified in criticising her idol. If anyone else did, she leapt to his defence. Diana had to take care that she did not arouse the Mountbatten streak in her sister-in-law. 'I just don't like her,' she is known to have said.

The age gap between the Queen's children did not save Andrew and Edward. But whereas Andrew sought to win approval by outdoing his elder brother, Edward found it was far wiser to steer clear of trouble. He later tackled the problem by making himself really useful to Philip by organising the Duke of Edinburgh Awards. 'They have grown very close,' said a friend.

As old age set in and his family's troubles multiplied, Philip became more detached. He has withdrawn into a small circle of friends such as the Duke and Duchess of Abercorn who joined his annual cruise on the
Britannia
(undertaken at vast public expense). Sasha, the Duchess, greatly admires Philip, whom she has known since she was a child at Luton Hoo.

Another is Jane, Countess of Westmorland, a keen horsewoman who shares many of Philip's interests, even giving him riding whips to add to his carriage-driving collection. They often sit together at the Royal Windsor Horse Show and other equine events. 'Philip takes gentlemanly care of Jane,' said a titled lady of their acquaintance. 'I've seen him share his rug with her on a cold day at Windsor.' Lady Westmorland's husband, the fifteenth Earl, was regarded as the greatest charmer at court. He was Master of the Horse and his faultless, good-humoured manners won him an abiding place in the Queen's affections. When he died in 1993 after a paralysing stroke, Philip ensured that his widow continued to receive royal invitations. Although in her sixties, Lady Westmorland retains her striking good looks.

Carriage driving also brings Philip into the company of Patricia Kluge, a forty-four-year-old divorcee and owner of Mar Lodge next to the Balmoral estate. Patricia, a former belly dancer from Liverpool, was previously married to John Kluge, the American billionaire who sold his TV interests to Rupert Murdoch. Philip is not the least embarrassed that the exotic Pat once starred in the soft porn movie
The Nine Ages of Nakedness.

The Prince still keeps in touch with one of his earliest loves, Cobina Beaudette, who was a lovely young American actress/showgirl called Cobina Wright Jnr when they met just before the war. 'Her mother was Cobina Wright Snr, who was one of the most well-known gossip writers in Hollywood,' said Lady Edith Foxwell, her British-based cousin. 'She was on a par with Louella Parsons and Hedda Hopper. They did the films and Cobina did the social side of it for the Hearst Press. She was an enormous friend of William Randolph Hearst.' One story the gossip writer never penned was about her daughter's romance with the young Prince Philip of Greece. As a result, she was invited to the royal wedding.

'Cobina Jnr is exactly the same age as me,' said Lady Edith, who was born granddaughter of the ninth Earl of Cavan in 1918. 'She made a few movies when she was about eighteen, including several with Betty Grable, and she was in
Flying Down to Rio
with Carmen Miranda. She was really gorgeous and such fun. I remember going to see her sing at the Pierre Hotel in New York - and she was only fourteen! Then she met Prince Philip long before he married the Queen. Beatrice Lillie introduced them.' Ms Lillie, one of the greatest comediennes of the century and the widow of Sir Robert Peel, Bt, had taken a friendly interest in the young American star.

'Philip actually had a job at the Travellers Club in Paris and he was very smitten with Cobina,' continued Lady Edith. 'She saw a lot of him then and she always remained friends with him afterwards. Nobody left anybody - the war came and she had to go back to America and he rejoined the Navy. She was married to Palmer Beaudette during the war and she had four children, three sons and then a daughter called Cobina Caroline, C.C. they call her: C.C. Beaudette.'

'I have never discussed our relationship with the Press or anybody,' said Cobina Beaudette from her home in California. 'Obviously it was before he was married but we have been very good friends for fifty-some years and I value our friendship so I won't discuss it. We write occasionally and he sends me Christmas cards.'

Philip suffers terribly from arthritis but he can still sign his own cards, although he prefers a lap-top computer for writing personal letters. Forced to give up polo at fifty when even equine painkillers ceased to work, he turned to carriage racing as a substitute. The Queen watches from the sidelines whenever he competes. When he won first place driving her Fell ponies at the Royal Windsor Horse Show, she cheered as though he was Ben Hur.

RIGHT from the start, no one summed up the spirit of the New Elizabethan Age more than the Duke of Edinburgh. When he moved into the big house at the end of the Mall, he brought with him a fierce determination to follow in the footsteps of Prince Albert. He regarded what he called 'the quirk of circumstance' that had placed his wife on the throne so young as a personal challenge. Queen Victoria had been younger, but so had Albert, who was only twenty when he married. This made Philip's sense of vocation even keener. Drilled in the modern British Navy, he became a loose cannon crashing against the bulwark that separated the old order and the brave new world of the Fifties. Nothing and no one were spared. He told industry to 'pull its finger out', questioned hidebound attitudes towards youth, education and the environment, argued famously with Press barons and challenged the status quo. Philip had always despised 'swank and swagger' and he gave Britain the benefit of his opinions in the salty language of the sea. 'It wasn't easy for him in the early days of her reign because he was so anxious not to let the Queen down,' said an old friend, in those days, he did have stage fright and nervous tension, but he gradually got over that. Nevertheless, the job was a fearful strain.'

Philip spoke his mind on the most explosive of topics, regardless of the consequences, if the monarchy has no part to play, let's end it on amicable grounds and not have a row about it,' he suggested. 'I get a little annoyed when people suggest we are clinging on for our own benefit. We are not. The monarchy exists for the benefit of the people and, of course, if they don't like it, they should get rid of it.' No one in Britain had heard a royal speak so plainly before. The courtiers were aghast. 'Deep down inside him there's a core of honesty and it's this that makes him seem rather blunt to people,' said the old friend. 'Basically, he's a humble person. This may not seem apparent to those who think he's arrogant, but what looks like arrogance is really only the bluntness and honesty coming out.'

Quite a few people found Philip not only arrogant, but selfish and manipulative as well. 'He knows exactly what he's doing and he's a pretty neat judge of what's going to happen,' said the informed peer. 'He's the walking embodiment of a number of very old-fashioned masculine virtues: courage, resolve and bloody-mindedness. His purpose, which is often directed at nice things happening to himself, means that he hasn't heard more generally received signals. If he had thought for one micro-second, he would have realised that his bluff, off-the-cuff sailorman comments would have resonated; that they would have rebounded. But he enjoys being identified as not very diplomatic. It contributes to his self-image of a shire-plus-Monte Carlo international tough guy.' 'Much of Philip's criticisms are him playing devil's advocate - it's a tactic to knock down some of the Aunt Sallys in society,' said a more kindly disposed member of the aristocracy.

Yet Philip's zest for life would have defeated less energetic mortals. One summery Sunday, the Duke was with the Queen on Holy Island off the Scottish coast. At eleven o'clock, they attended morning service and he read the second lesson. At twelve ten, he planted a tree in the market square. At one o'clock, he skipped lunch and walked to the lifeboat station. The royal barge of the
Britannia
took him eight miles down the coast where a car was waiting to rush him to Acklington air force base. Aboard a Heron of the Queen's Flight he ate sandwiches and touched down in Berkshire at three thirty-five. He ran from the plane, jumped into his waiting Lagonda and drove at breakneck speed to his destination. Later that day, he flew back to Scotland and chased
Britannia
in a motorboat to rejoin his wife.

Philip took his polo seriously.

The sudden dash had been to Smith's Lawn for an important match. To him, a round trip of 1,000 miles to play his favourite sport was a minor inconvenience. To others, it was a reckless extravagance.

In his most active years, no one was closer to Philip, nor understood him better, than his right-hand man, Lieutenant Commander Michael Parker. A debonair naval officer with a mischievous streak, Mike Parker would have fitted easily into the court of Elizabeth I alongside Drake and Raleigh. He was sharp and he had style. He was also the keeper of his master's secrets. When Parker departed the Palace, the whiff of scandal tarnished the Queen's marriage as no other episode in her reign.

The Duke had met Parker in 1941 when they were first lieutenants in sister warships on the east coast of England. Philip was twenty and Parker, an Australian-born Catholic, twenty-one. They formed an uninhibited friendship, partly because the Duke was then an unknown foreign royal going by the name of Prince Philip of Greece. What's more, he was penniless, which made it easier for the two young men to fraternise on equal terms. They later served in the Pacific and, when Philip's royal connections became public, Parker helped him to avoid harassment during their shore leave.

When newsmen finally caught up with Philip at an Australian racecourse, he told them: 'You've got the wrong man - that's Mountbatten over there.' He pointed out Mike Parker, bearded like himself and dressed in identical naval uniform. Adopting a phoney English accent, Parker kept up the deception while his friend enjoyed his day at the races.