This freewheeling attitude was anathema to the Royal Family. The rules mattered. Humans being human, everyone would sometimes break the rules. But an awareness of being subject to the rules, as opposed to being above them, was an important part of being properly royal. No one exemplified this more than King George VI and his wife Queen Elizabeth. The Queen Mother had ruled her own immediate family, known to themselves as Us Four, with an iron hand in a velvet glove from the very beginning of her marriage. The king had been under the thumb of his wife from before he even slipped the ring on her finger. Their two daughters, Princesses Elizabeth and Margaret, were also reared from birth to defer at all times to their mother. The former Lady Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon had been a stickler for a happy home life grounded in good form and traditional values. These did not conflict at all with the royal regimen. Indeed, the way the future Queen Mother set up her family life reinforced it, for she overlaid iron discipline with a coating of charm and personability while adhering at all times to the traditional royal codes of conduct. Lilibet and her sister Margaret were therefore brought up to be perfect princesses and it would only be after the Queen Mother’s death that Lilibet’s less formal side was given vent publicly. Till then, she had to be as buttoned up as her mother required.
Considering that the Queen was in her mid-seventies when her mother died, the degree of control imposed by the Queen Mother was striking. The contrast between that royal way and Diana’s could not have been more extreme. Although both Lilibet and Princess Margaret were very much their own women privately, the elder sister was by nature reserved though a fearsome mimic, while also being a wit and fun loving, though the younger was decidedly more outgoing and unorthodox, more outrageous and even more fun loving, but all within the confines of disciplined royal behaviour.
Despite their fun-loving natures, neither sister ever stretched royal boundaries when bringing their children up. All six of them - Prince Charles, Princess Anne, Prince Andrew, Prince Edward, Lord Linley and Lady Sarah Armstrong-Jones - were reared in keeping with ancient royal and aristocratic traditions. They were well behaved children who grew into well-mannered, well-disciplined and traditionally behaved royals and aristocrats. This meant that when they were in public, they conducted themselves as they were expected to behave, and not as they themselves wished, even though, in the privacy of their own homes, their standards might slacken.
This was certainly not true of Diana’s children. Both boys were allowed to ‘run wild’, to quote Princess Margaret. By the time Diana and Charles’s firstborn, William, was three, Elizabeth II was bemoaning how undisciplined he was. In 1986, when he was a page at his Uncle Andrew’s wedding to Sarah Ferguson, he endeared himself to the public, though not to his own family, by fidgeting, sticking his tongue out, and generally behaving like the naughty four year old he was. Harry, at a year old, was still too young for anyone to know if he would follow in his brother’s footsteps, but the harbingers, which would turn out to be only too accurate, were not good. Diana encouraged indiscipline, and wildness is what she got.
Up to that point, there had only been one wild royal child that anyone could think of in the British Royal Family. That had been the Queen’s late uncle John, the epileptic and (judging from his behaviour) autistic youngest son of the late King George V and Queen Mary. Uncontrollable, his father used to say that he was the only person whom he could never get to obey him. The unruly but tragic John had died at the age of thirteen of an epileptic fit in 1919, two months after the end of the First World War. Although his parents had loved him, there was an almost audible sigh of relief that nature had come to the rescue, for there was every indication that John would have become a major embarrassment to the monarchy had he lived to adulthood.
Whether William and Harry would follow on the path of Great-Great Uncle John remained to be seen, but the question of how the boys should be disciplined was not straightforward owing to the family dynamics. Charles was Queen Elizabeth The Queen Mother’s favourite grandchild. As far as she was concerned, he could do no wrong. If he wanted to turn a blind eye to the way his children were being reared, she did not feel it was up to her to interfere. Moreover, she understood Charles’s predicament. She sympathised with his powerlessness as a father and husband in the face of a wife as powerfully driven as Diana.
The Queen Mother’s insights into Diana’s mode of behaviour came not only from what she knew through her own family, but through Diana’s as well. One of the Queen Mother’s Women of the Bedchamber was Diana’s grandmother Ruth, Lady Fermoy, who violently disapproved of Diana’s conduct, to such an extent that by the time of her death in 1993, she was no longer speaking to her granddaughter. Lady Fermoy regarded Diana as treacherous, dangerous, and irresponsible. She felt that she had been an appalling Princess of Wales, had undermined the monarchy, was a bad daughter and granddaughter, had been anything but a good wife, and moreover was proving to be a dangerously lax mother.
On the other hand, Diana thought that her own family and the Royal Family were out of touch with the mores of the time. She felt that they all needed to loosen up a bit, to be less preoccupied with good behaviour and become more in touch with their feelings. Not for her the stiff upper lip. Whether she was happy or sad, she made sure everyone knew about it. She felt it was important to be in touch with one’s feelings, and to show them, rather than concealing them behind a facade of good behaviour.
In many ways, Diana’s values were more in keeping with her times than either the family into which she had been born or married. She was determined that her children would not grow up straightjacketed by decorum the way royal and to a lesser extent aristocratic children used to be. The royals especially had always been isolated from everyday life and indeed from the equalising ebb and flow of ordinary friendship. Even in Charles’s generation, all British royals expected their closest friends, and often their lower-ranking cousins, to refer to them as Sir and Ma’am instead of by their Christian names. All Charles’s girlfriends were obliged to call him Sir, and the Queen Mother’s brother, Sir David Bowes-Lyon, had to address her as Ma’am even when entertaining her at his home, St. Paul’s Walden Bury, although the only other person present was his good friend and neighbour Burnett Pavitt. It was this level of formality which Diana rightly sought to change. Having lived in a less restrictive world, she was determined that her children would have upbringings that allowed them to relate to people on a human level, devoid of the crippling restrictions royal formality imposed upon royals. They were to be referred to by employees as Wills or William and Harry, not Your Royal Highness or Sir. They could go and bother the staff in the kitchen. They would be people first and princes second.
Harry, however, had one handicap that was insurmountable. He was the second son. Second sons do not count in royal or aristocratic circles except as spares. Everything goes to the first son. There can be only one king, duke, marquis, earl, viscount, baron, or baronet. Only the firstborn son can inherit the throne, palace, castle, estate and all its chattels. Second sons, of course, do inherit something. They have secondary titles, secondary possessions, secondary incomes which go along with their secondary status. But the only way to preserve the hegemony is for virtually everything to devolve upon the firstborn son.
In the world into which Harry was born, second sons are second class citizens. The phenomenon is so well known that it even has its own name: Second Son Syndrome. This does not necessarily have to be a problem. My boyfriend before marriage was a second son; I married a second son; and my longstanding boyfriend after marriage was a second son. Some second sons cope with their status better than others. My boyfriend before marriage and my boyfriend after both grappled with it well, but too many second sons are bitterly envious of their elder brothers. They resent the fact that an accident of birth prevented them from getting the lion’s share of the money, status, power and privilege. They forget that their status as the scions of privilege is also an accident of birth, that they could equally have been born in
to penury in Somalia instead of the lap of luxury in Great Britain.
Some mothers deal with Second Son Syndrome better than others. Some bring their children up to accept that life is not fair, that you should count your blessings and be grateful for small as well as large mercies, and not covet thy brother’s wife, ass or goods, in keeping with the dictat of the tenth Commandment. They point out to their second sons how lucky they are that they will not have to live up to a patrimony that might be laden with privilege, but is heavily offset by the crushing weight of responsibility for which nature might not have equipped either son, but which the first born will have to learn to bear whether he is inclined to do so or not. Other mothers make it so obvious that they prefer the child who will inherit the throne or the peerage that they mess up both the first and second sons for the remainder of their lives. Still others do what Diana did. They overcompensate. Although she always kept the boys grounded with the knowledge that only William would one day be king, she nevertheless tried to equalise an unequal situation, figuring, incorrectly, that she could redress the balance by providing Harry with additional emotional security. Darren McGrady, the chef at Kensington Palace from 1993 to 1997, recounted how she used to tell him, ‘You take care of the heir; I’ll take care of the spare.’ She openly said that she knew that William would always be all right; Harry was the one she had to look out for. She used to say that Harry was ‘an airhead like me’, while William ‘is like his father’. This made her more protective and indulgent of Harry.
Just as how the young Meghan felt the issue of her race impacting more acutely upon herself than those around her realised, so too was Harry aware from an early age of the disparity between himself and his elder brother. He used to complain that the Queen Mother showered William with attention while virtually ignoring him; that she had William sit close by her while he was relegated to a Siberian seat when they went to visit her. Once, he was terrifically upset when the butler brought sandwiches for her and William but none for him. I find it difficult to believe that Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother would have countenanced such a slight, and suspect that a crucial element of the story was omitted in the recounting. Nevertheless, the fact remains, from an early age Harry was acutely conscious of the difference in importance between himself and William, to such an extent, that Diana’s protection officer Ken Wharfe recounted how, when he was four or five, Harry informed their nanny, ‘It doesn’t matter anyway, because William is going to be king.’ Wharfe found it amazing that Harry could, even at that tender age, be so aware of that fact.
The two year age difference meant that both boys were at different stages developmentally. Harry was a soft and sweet child who loved nothing better than curling up with his mother on a sofa or bed and looking at movies or shows on television with her. He was an unashamed Mummy’s boy, while his elder brother made his presence felt in such an independent, indeed aggressive, manner that he was known as Basher.
Given a choice, children are much happier having fun in the country than staying in the city. Palaces are little different from ordinary houses save in scale, and both boys liked nothing better than going down to Highgrove for the weekend with their father. Contrary to the misinformation that Diana later on spread about her husband, Charles was a good and involved father whose children loved him as much as he loved them. He used to play with them the way his father, who had been a playful father, used to with him. He had a special pit built for them which was filled with colourful balls and he used to dive into it with them. He had a tree house constructed for them. He took them for long walks throughout the property, opening their eyes to the beauties of nature while instructing them on the flora which were such a passion of his. He took them to see the newly born lambs, encouraged them to keep pets - their mother was not an animal lover - and showed Harry how to take care of his favourite, a rabbit. Charles loved the countryside, and, as the boys grew up, they too developed a love for it. They learnt to shoot rabbits, to relish being out of doors, which was definitely not something their avowedly ‘Metropolitan Babe’ mother enjoyed.
Harry and William both had ponies, and from an early age Harry was taught to ride, first by a local instructor named Marion Cox, then by James Hewitt. The young prince was fearless and had what his aunt Anne, an Olympic equestrienne who was a Burghley gold medallist, called ‘a good seat’. A love of horses, of course, ran in the Royal Family. Both the Queen and Queen Mother were avid turfites. Prince Philip had been a world-class polo player and, upon retiring, had taken up carriage-driving. Prince Charles had also been a polo player, and Princess Anne felt that Harry had such natural ability that he could grow up to compete as long as he dedicated himself to the sport.
More than horses, what Harry loved from an early age, was all things military. James Hewitt told me in the 1990s how he had mini-uniforms made for both princes, and how they absolutely adored parading around in them, especially after James taught them to salute properly. But it was Harry, not William, who truly relished the military, and even at that early age, it was apparent that his niche would be a career in the armed forces.
This was just as well, for once Harry started school, it quickly became apparent that he was as unacademic as his mother had been. At the age of three, he followed William to a Montessori kindergarten, Mrs Mynors’ Nursery School in Chepstow Villas in Notting Hill, a five minute drive from Kensington Palace. Jane Mynors was a bishop’s daughter whose thirty six charges started their day with a prayer, following which they moved on to singing, cutting paper with scissors and making shapes, singing, or playing out of doors. Throughout the years that the children were being prepared to begin their formal education, they were expected to learn how to paint and sing, but not how to read. Although Harry seemed to start well enough, his progress was not helped by Diana’s propensity for allowing him to play truant. He preferred to stay at home with her, cuddling in her lap for hours while they watched movies, rather than attending school. Diana’s friend Simone Simmons remembered how ‘he used to go down with more coughs and colds than William, but it was nothing serious. Most of the time I think he just wanted to be at home with his Mummy. He loved having her to himself and not having to compete with William.’
Diana also enjoyed having him to herself. Harry’s stay at Mrs Mynors’ coincided with the height of Diana’s love affair with James Hewitt. At various times, she would surrender to the fantasy of being married to him, creating a degree of frustration for herself that cannot have been conducive to serenity. Her children, Harry especially, were her comfort, and she derived as much emotional gratification from interacting with them as they did from her.
Once a week, on Wednesdays, Diana took the boys to have tea with their grandmother the Queen. She would warn them to be on their best behaviour, and doubtless they thought they were, but they possessed an uncontained air which was apparent even when they were being good. Harry was especially ‘demonstrative and affectionate, the most huggable little boy,’ according to Diana’s friend Carolyn Bartholomew, which in itself indicated a degree of emotionalism that did not sit well with the royal way, in which emotional containment is prized over demonstrativeness. Already there were concerns that the boys might grow up, under Diana’s ministrations, to be as hyper-emotional as she was. And that was something no one wanted, for public roles are best fulfilled with the emotions contained rather than revelled in.
At the age of five, Harry followed William to Wetherby Pre-Preparatory School in Wetherby Gardens, Kensington. This was even nearer to Kensington Palace than Mrs Mynors’. Now that Harry was that much older, staying home curled up on sofas watching movies with Mummy had less appeal, so his attendance record improved. He was a popular student, boisterous and fun-loving, qualities he would carry into adulthood, at least until marriage. When he was not at school, he would haunt the staff quarters, chatting to the staff and begging Ken Wharfe, his mother’s protection officer, to set him tasks. Harry liked nothing better than being given military assignments. By this
time, everyone was convinced his future would be in the military.
Harry was also a natural athlete. He was good at everything he did. Having learnt to ski at the age of six, he was fearless on the slopes, though sometimes stopping was a problem. Once, he had to be dug out of the mud when he ran out of snow and ended up in the bushes.
He would soon have greater scope for his athleticism. In September 1992, Harry was sent to Ludgrove School, a preparatory school in Wokingham, Berkshire, near Windsor Castle and even nearer to his grandmother’s racecourse, Ascot. William was already a pupil. Having his elder brother there made the transition easier. For the first few weeks, Harry was, like most new boys, homesick, but he made the adjustment, partly with the help of William, and partly by discovering that he now had a host of athletic activities to choose from. Soon he was enthusiastically playing football, tennis, rugby, and cricket, his physical prowess compensating for his intellectual insufficiencies. It was quickly apparent that Diana was right. Harry was his mother’s son. He had no academic bent whatsoever. This was something of a disappointment to his father and the school, for William was following in his father’s footsteps and displaying intellectual interest in a host of subjects.
Meghan and Harry Page 6