The royals - Kitty Kelley [239]
His parents were greatly upset. “They had no idea what he was going to say,” recalled a friend who had spent a weekend with the Queen and Prince Philip earlier in the summer. “I will not go into details because they did not go into details—they never do…. A mention was made in passing about concern over a book—that’s all. A book. We assumed it was James Hewitt’s dreadful kiss-and-tell….” The Queen’s friend waves a hand dismissively to indicate the book Princess in Love, which detailed Hewitt’s five-year love affair with the Princess of Wales. “But the Queen didn’t seem to care about Major Hewitt’s tittle-tattle. Her concern was over what Charles intended to say….”
The Prince proved that his disclosures were every bit as sensational as those sold by his servants. Violating royal precedents of restraint, he astonished even those who were accustomed to gaudy sensationalism. “A Foolish and Sorry Authorised Version,” was the Guardian’s opinion. The left-wing newspaper soon declared itself republican (opposed to a monarchy and committed to a republic), as did the Independent on Sunday. The temperate Economist called the monarchy “an idea whose time has passed.” Even the conservative Daily Telegraph chided the Prince for placing the book in the public domain. Columnist John Junor excoriated him as “wicked” and said he should feel “suicidal.” The Washington Post called him “the Prince of Wails” for forgetting the cardinal rule of the monarchy: “The son never frets on the British Empire.”
The Duke of Edinburgh also registered disdain—publicly. “I’ve never discussed private matters, and I don’t think the Queen has either,” he told reporters who asked for his reaction to his son’s book. “I’ve never made any comments about any member of the family in forty years, and I’m not going to start now.”
Charles’s brothers and his sister criticized him for using the book to bash their parents. But the self-pitying Prince didn’t see it that way. He rationalized that at his age he was entitled to a little happiness. He said he wanted to make a clean breast of it. “You’ll see,” he predicted. “At the end of the day, it will be for the best.” This wasn’t the first time he had been wrong footed.
His mistress’s long-suffering husband was fed up. For years Andrew Parker Bowles had stoically endured gossip in his circle about the Prince’s passion for his wife. “Actually, some people felt he rather enjoyed it,” said Jocelyn Gray, a close friend of Prince Andrew. “Having your wife bonked by the future King of England lends cachet… in some circles.” Barely suppressing a grin, British writer Anthony Holden explained on American television that some old-fashioned English men consider it an honor to share their wives with their monarch. “Comes from the French droit du seigneur and refers to the master of the house sleeping with his servants….”
When Andrew Parker Bowles saw himself derided in the press as “the man who laid down his wife for his country,” he was angry. He had held back on getting a divorce two years before only because Charles had asked him to wait. The Prince had said that after his own separation he didn’t think the monarchy could take another marriage scandal. “I’m afraid I’ve cocked up things a bit,” Charles said apologetically. So his mistress’s husband, who was also his friend and former aide, agreed not to start legal proceedings that might embarrass the royal family.
As Lieutenant Colonel Commanding the Household Cavalry, Andrew Parker Bowles held the honorary position of Silverstick-in-Waiting, which entailed accompanying the Queen on ceremonial occasions. When she opened Parliament, he preceded her walking backwards and carrying a silver stick. Even after his love affair with Princess Anne in 1970, he had remained close to the royal family, particularly the Queen Mother. But after Charles made him nationally known as a cuckold, he felt he had no choice. “I can’t keep on living someone else’s life,” he said. Although