The royals - Kitty Kelley [257]
An avid hunter, Philip publicly criticized England’s proposed legislation to crack down on handguns. During a discussion of the massacre of sixteen schoolchildren in Dunblane, Scotland, the Duke said guns were no more dangerous than cricket bats. Parents of the slain children were shocked by the comment, and the Queen’s husband was taken to task by the nation’s press. “Wrong again, Prince Philip,” was the headline of the Manchester Evening News editorial that criticized him “for shooting his mouth off without regard to the feelings of others.” The next day the Palace issued an apology.
But the Queen appeared unruffled by her husband’s diplomatic pratfalls. She tolerated his curmudgeonly manner and made no excuses for his off-the-cuff humor. Charles was the one who cringed. He worried most about the family’s declining popularity, and he accused the press of making them look like lumpen royalty. He urged his parents to address the future—his future—and consider ways the monarchy could prepare for the twenty-first century.
From the shadows of Balmoral, he let it be known that the royal family was looking ahead. He indicated that he and his parents, his brothers, his sister, and his advisers were meeting twice a year. Their committee was called the Way Ahead Group, and their goal was to renovate the dilapidated House of Windsor. Under discussion were ideas that would radically reform the Crown. The most immediate was the family’s intention to get off the public payroll. They agreed to end the annual Civil List payments (approximately $14 million from taxpayers) and suggested restoring to the Crown payments from the Crown Estates. These consist of three hundred thousand acres of prime real estate, whose rents and revenues produce more than $100 million a year. They were surrendered to Parliament by King George III in 1760.
“Devilishly cunning,” said a government minister who showed the respect of a pickpocket for a bank robber. He figured the arithmetic (more than $100 million) as a break for the public and a boon for the royal family. “This would spare taxpayers while manifoldly enriching the monarchy; at the same time, it removes the Crown from public scrutiny, which legitimately keeps the press at bay…. How can the media justify invading their privacy when they are no longer supported by public dollars? Doubtful it would pass Parliament, but the proposal is admirable in its audacity.”
Equally creative was the royal family’s proposal to end the eleventh-century rule of primogeniture and allow women equal rights to succeed to the throne. They also committed themselves to downsizing: no more HRH aunts, uncles, or cousins. Upon the deaths of certain members of the royal family, the Firm would consist solely of the monarch, the consort, their children, and those grandchildren who are direct heirs to the throne.
The vote around the table at Balmoral was unanimous: Ditch the minor royals like HRH Prince Michael of Kent and his wife. The Kents had contributed their share of bad publicity to the royal family. She had been caught leaving her American lover’s house disguised in a wig and sunglasses. He had cashed in on being the Queen’s cousin; he appeared on television to hawk the House of Windsor Collection, a mail-order catalog selling ersatz royal trinkets. Within months the marketing scheme became a financial disaster, which caused further embarrassment. “We’ve got Ali Baba,” joked one member of the royal family. “We don’t need the Forty Thieves.”
Charles recognized that an act of Parliament could deprive him of the throne, especially after he said that he did not want to be Defender