The royals - Kitty Kelley [259]
The “if” is operative. Some bookmakers are hedging their bets because they question the maternal instincts of the dutiful monarch. At best they see her as an inattentive parent, who is no longer inclined to give up her crown for her middle-aged son. “She is dedicated to her duty,” said one London bookmaker. “She has described her job as a job for life. She’ll never abdicate. Based on that, I’d give long odds on the Queen stepping aside before she goes to the angels.”
Few criticize the Queen as a monarch. It’s the mother who has failed. She has produced three children who are divorced and one who is still floundering. That’s a sorry score for people whose only job in life is to live happily ever after. They are not evil, just venal. But being hapless and unheroic, they rubbed the luster off the House of Windsor and left it looking shopworn.
Many years ago, Farouk, the last King of Egypt, had predicted that most monarchies would disappear by the turn of the century. “By then there will be only five kings left in the world,” he said. “The king of hearts, clubs, diamonds, spades—and the King of England.” He, too, had been beguiled by the mystique of the British monarchy.
“In its mystery is its life,” wrote historian Walter Bagehot more than a hundred years ago. “We must not let daylight in upon magic.”
Since then the magic has been harshly exposed. Yet the weight of history favors survival of an institution that continues to reinvigorate itself. Even as Britain reassesses its monarchy, the monarchy retains its genius for adaptability and compromise, almost defying destruction. Rooted mystically in religion and patriotism, it cannot be removed without leaving a gaping hole in the psyche of the country. As durable as the White Cliffs of Dover, the institution has existed for 1,200 years among people who have cherished pageantry and treasured mythology. The magic is not completely understood, even by devoted monarchists, who acknowledge that not all kings and queens have been good and noble and wise. But they have survived because their subjects had a need to believe in them. That yearning to look up to someone or something grand, even grandiose, still exists. Although the godlike luster has eroded and the institution has been diminished, even disgraced, the need for enchantment endures and the hope for renewal remains.
Epilogue
The death of Diana knocked the wind out of the Windsors. Her death also shook the head of the house, the Queen herself. She was awakened at 3:30 A.M. on August 31, 1997, at Balmoral by a telephone call from her private secretary. She admitted her first reaction was to think: “At this time of the morning it had better be important.”
Diana met death in Paris. Chased by paparazzi on motorcycles and in cars, the limousine in which she was riding crashed into the side of a roadway tunnel.
Seconds before the crash, French police say, the speedometer froze at 121 miles an hour—triple the speed limit. They also say the driver was drunk and under the influence of prescription drugs for depression and alcoholism. He died instantly.
Diana’s companion, Dodi Fayed, riding with her in the back seat, was also killed on impact.
His bodyguard, riding in the front of the black Mercedes-Benz, was the only person wearing a seatbelt. He was severely injured, but he was the only one who survived.
The BBC announcement of the Princess’s death punched a hole