by Kitty Kelley
Grid engineers had installed an additional power station to accommodate the expected national surge in electricity after the 9:40 P.M. program; they estimated the extra megawatts to be the equivalent of three hundred thousand teakettles being plugged in at once. When the show was broadcast worldwide, some two hundred million people in one hundred countries were watching.
Calmly and with poise, Diana discussed her postnatal depression, her suicide attempts, her crying jags, and her bulimia. She said she suffered because her husband made her feel useless and unwanted—a total failure. She said he had taken a mistress and then blamed her, his wife, for getting upset. He said she was an embarrassment to the royal family, and his friends, “the establishment that I married into,” considered her unstable enough to be committed to a mental institution. She said her husband was jealous of her “because I always got more publicity, my work was more, was discussed much more than him.” Yet she maintained she did not want a divorce.
She admitted having been unfaithful during her marriage. She denied having affairs with James Gilbey and Oliver Hoare but said she had been in love with James Hewitt. “Yes, I adored him,” she said. “But I was very let down.” She told the interviewer that she did not tell her children about her affair with Hewitt, but she did tell them about their father’s adultery with Camilla Parker Bowles. “But I put it in gently,” she said, “without resentment or any anger.”
She faulted the press for its intrusions: “I’ve never encouraged the media. There was a relationship which worked before, but now I can’t tolerate it because it’s become abusive and it’s harassment.”
Conceding she would never become Queen of the country, she asked instead to be a queen of people’s hearts. “I’d like to be an ambassador,” she said.
The interviewer asked, “On what grounds do you feel that you have the right to think of yourself as an ambassador?”
Diana replied: “I’ve been in a privileged position for fifteen years. I’ve got tremendous knowledge about people and know how to communicate, and I want to use it.”
Minutes later she was asked whether she thought her husband would ever be King. She raised her kohl-rimmed eyes to the camera and replied, “I don’t think any of us know the answer to that. Who knows what fate will produce, who knows what circumstances will provoke?” She expressed hope that her tormented husband would find peace of mind. Without uttering an unkind word, she questioned his ability to reign. “I would think that the top job, as I call it, would bring enormous limitations to him, and I don’t know whether he could adapt.” Perhaps, she concluded, because of his “conflict” about becoming King, he should forgo the throne and allow the crown to pass directly to their son, Prince William, when he comes of age.
“You could almost hear the country’s collective gasp,” said a television commentator on the late news.
The next morning every one of Britain’s newspapers devoted its front page to Diana. Every aspect of the interview was scrutinized: her clothes (tailored navy blazer, opaque black hose), her lighting (harsh), her demeanor (restrained), her vocabulary (impressive, according to Time, which reported she said “albeit” five times and “daunting” or “daunted” fourteen times).
Few people criticized her, but Nicholas Soames, Charles’s friend, was outraged. His attack lent credibility to her charges. “The Prince has been wronged,” Soames said. He pronounced her performance as “toe-curlingly dreadful” and said she was “in the advanced stages of paranoia.”
But the working classes loved the Princess. The opinion polls showed public support for her running as high as 85 percent. The journalist and historian Paul Johnson declared her a heroine. He forgave her sexual indiscretions because “she was chaste when the Prince began the adultery game.” In defense of Diana, he quoted Jane Austen’s defense of Queen Caroline, the estranged wife of George IV: “She was bad, but she would not have become as bad as she was if he had not been infinitely worse.”
The Charles and Diana camps formed along class lines. Elderly Tory squires and Anglican bishops backed the Prince, while a majority of working-class people, along with Catholic Church populists, supported the Princess. Emotions on both sides divided the country. And newspapers begged the Prince and Princess to put their marriage out of its misery. Tory members of Parliament beseeched the Prime Minister to consult with the Queen about a divorce. “We’ve become an international laughing-stock,” said one conservative MP. “A spectacle.”
Within hours of Diana’s interview, Olympus had prepared a full-page ad to promote its new camera. The commercial showed a picture of the Princess perched demurely on her chair in Kensington Palace. The photograph was cropped at the neck. The caption: “Avoid getting your head chopped off by the in-laws this Christmas.”
In the United States Omnipoint Communications wanted Diana to launch its new mobile telephone network. “My idea,” said the company’s president, “is that she will hold a digital phone and declare, ‘If I’d had one of these, I could have been Queen.’ ”
In Norway a condom advertiser featured Diana’s picture at the precise moment she confessed to adultery on television. The caption: “It’s hard to see on the outside whether someone has had casual sex.”
The Queen was ready to listen to her Prime Minister. He arrived for their weekly meeting armed with the support of former Prime Minister James Callaghan and the Archbishop of Canterbury. The Prime Minister told the Queen that the uncertainty surrounding the couple’s marriage had interfered with the country’s business. Britain was losing face, and the monarchy was diminished. “I am only Your Majesty’s adviser,” John Major said respectfully. Then he recommended that the Queen step into the ring to stop the brawling.
On December 17, 1995, the Queen wrote to Charles and Diana, suggesting that for the sake of their children they resolve their differences “amicably and with civility.” She asked them to agree to a divorce and to let her know their decision as soon as possible. She said she looked forward to the family’s annual gathering during the Christmas holidays and assured them both of her personal affection and her continuing support in difficult times. She sent the letters by messenger and, two days later, authorized the Palace to confirm their delivery.
Diana was shocked by the Queen’s public disclosure, which she felt was pushing her into a divorce she did not want. She called her lawyers, who advised her against making an immediate decision. They needed time to negotiate. She angrily canceled plans to join the royal family for Christmas.
Charles responded promptly to his mother’s letter and agreed to a divorce, but only on condition that Diana agree, because he did not want a contest. He also declared he would not remarry.
The same day as the Queen’s letter arrived, Diana received a letter from lawyers representing Tiggy Legge-Bourke, the young assistant who planned outings and activities for Wills and Harry. Tiggy sought a retraction of Diana’s “false allegations” about her, plus acknowledgment that what Diana had said days earlier during a staff Christmas party was “totally untrue.” The Princess had arrived at the Lanesborough Hotel for the annual holiday luncheon for the Waleses’ employees. Instead of ignoring Tiggy, who was standing near the entrance, Diana walked over and confronted her.
“So sorry to hear about the baby,” Diana said with a sneer.
The young woman was taken aback. Then she realized the taunt was based on gossip that she had become pregnant and had had an abortion. Crushed by Diana’s accusation, Tiggy fled to a private room, where she was comforted by Prince Charles’s valet. She returned to the party but confided her distress to Commander Aylard, who told the Prince of Wales. Charles counseled her to contact Peter Carter-Ruck, one of England’s most widely known libel lawyers.
Two days after putting the Princess on notice, the lawyer sent letters to newspapers warning that the allegations were false. “Reports have reached her [Tiggy] and her family that a series of malicious lies are circulating in the press which are a gross reflection on our clie
nt’s moral character. These allegations are utterly without the very slightest foundation.”
With the full support of Prince Charles, Tiggy was prepared to sue Diana over her remark. But the Prince’s friends cautioned him that the Princess would dig in her heels, even relishing the spectacle of the royal family in a courtroom fight. Charles agreed, and after lengthy talks with her lawyers, Tiggy decided not to sue.
Diana’s oblique attack on Tiggy came within hours of being named Humanitarian of the Year. She attended the staff Christmas party upon her return from New York City, where she had received the prestigious United Cerebral Palsy award from former Secretary of State Henry Kissinger. The seventy-two-year-old statesman seemed transfixed by the Princess in her low-cut gown and stared at her bosom like a high school boy. In his gushy introduction, he said Diana was a symbol to humanity of caring and compassion.
“She is here as a member of the royal family with which the USA has a long history of cooperation, friendship, and standing as allies,” he said. “But we are honoring the Princess in her own right tonight, having aligned herself with the ill, the suffering, and the downtrodden.”
Seven hundred people paid $1,000 each to attend the dinner and applauded Diana as she walked to the microphone, sparkling in diamonds. She spoke movingly of how her thoughts were with parents who were holding vigil at the bedsides of their desperately sick children, who might not live until the morning.
Then a woman called out from the audience: “Where are your children, Diana?”
“They’re in school,” replied the Princess, barely looking up. Then she resumed her speech. When she finished, the crowd stood up and cheered as if to drown out the rude interruption.
Afterward a reporter approached the middle-aged heckler and asked why she had yelled at the Princess of Wales, expressing surprise that someone would dare to yell at royalty. Without apology the woman replied: “I don’t like being lectured on humanity.”
TWENTY-TWO
A battle royal was brewing. For two months the Queen had been waiting for the Princess to respond to her letter. Her Majesty’s private secretary had phoned Diana three times to nudge a response, but Diana kept stalling. Then Prince Charles wrote her. Finally she deigned to respond.
She called her husband and proposed a meeting with him: February 28, 1996, 4:30 P.M., in his office at St. James’s Palace. She insisted they meet privately—no lawyers, no equerries, no secretaries. At the appointed hour, Charles and Diana were on the scene. His courtiers objected to the restrictions because they wanted to take notes, but Charles waved them off. As the last of his staff backed out the door, Diana sniped, “They’ll probably bug the room anyway.”
She later told Richard Kay of the Daily Mail that she had told Charles, “I loved you and I will always love you because you are the father of my children.” But when Charles saw that statement in print he became angry. He told one of his aides that she had never uttered those words. What he clearly recalled—and said he would never forget—was his wife’s threat months before. He quoted her as saying: “You will never be King. I shall destroy you.”
When he read Diana’s rendition of their private meeting as recounted in the Mail, he decided to get a gag order. He insisted a confidentiality clause be included in their divorce agreement to keep her from writing or speaking about their marriage. Diana accused him of extortion and demanded that he sign a similar pledge, but he resisted. He said his word of honor was enough.
During that meeting in his office, she had told him that if he made it clear to the world that he, not she, was requesting the divorce, she would agree to proceed with negotiations. She even offered to give up her royal status. Her title became a sticking point, but at first she said she didn’t care about it. After the meeting she called the Queen to say she agreed to a divorce “with deep regrets.” She told the Queen it was “the saddest day of my life.”
Then her lawyers started haggling. They began by insisting on a lump sum payment of $75 million. His lawyers protested the amount and the method of payment: Charles wanted to pay less and in yearly installments rather than a lump sum. That way he could withhold money, in case Diana got out of line. But she refused. For her it was all or nothing. When he balked at paying her legal fees, which he said were “excessive,” negotiations stalled. Her side reminded his side who wanted the divorce. She threatened to withdraw and force him to wait two more years to get a no-consent divorce decree. Then he would be able to get one automatically because their separation would have met the requisite five years. But, for the Queen, further delay was intolerable. She intervened, and Charles paid his wife’s legal bills—$120,000.
After five months of acrimony over almost every issue, the lawyers for both sides produced a document as intricate as a treaty between two warring nations. “The only element missing was a map delineating the deployment of troops,” mused a man familiar with the agreement. “Everything else was covered—insignias, titles, possessions, even boundaries. [Diana was required to seek the Queen’s permission to leave the country, unless on private holiday. With the Queen’s permission, she could use the Queen’s aircraft, but only if accompanied by her children.] Diana is entitled to keep all gifts of royal jewelry [the value of which is said to exceed $100 million] for her lifetime. She agrees not to lend or sell any jewels given to her by the royal family, including the thirty-carat sapphire brooch that was the Queen Mother’s wedding present. Upon Diana’s death, the jewelry passes to her son, William, for the future Princess of Wales. A codicil to her will nailing this down is attached to the divorce settlement.”
The only area not disputed was the children: Charles and Diana agreed to share responsibility for raising their sons, including equal access and custody. Every other aspect of their contentious marriage was bartered down to the last square foot of office space Diana would be allocated. Charles agreed to pay her about $26 million, including her taxes, over a period of five years. In addition, he will pay $600,000 a year for her office staff, supplies, and equipment.* Diana retained use of her residence at Kensington Palace, until she chooses to move or remarry.
In the middle of the negotiations, Diana reconsidered her royal status. She said she wanted to keep her title “for the sake of the boys.” Previously she had joked, “I don’t need another title—I was born with one.” But her friends emphasized that while Lady Diana might get a seat on the bus, Her Royal Highness the Princess of Wales could commandeer the bus, the driver, and all the curtsying passengers. They said the title of HRH gave her protection against being run over.
So important is the designation of royalty in a class-bound society that her friends don’t want to see Diana curtsying to others. Nor do they want to see her lowered in public esteem like the disgraced Sarah Ferguson, who had been forced to give up her royal style upon divorce. Shorn of her HRH, the poor Duchess became a national punching bag. Frequently derided as greedy and moneygrubbing, she was roundly denounced after her divorce. A union flag raised to mark her thirty-seventh birthday was lowered after four hours when some union members objected; they said she did not deserve the honor. They placed a call to Buckingham Palace, which said the only official day that should be marked was the Queen’s birthday. “After all we’ve heard about Fergie’s love life,” said one union member, “they’d be better off flying a pair of knickers from the flagpole.”
When the Duchess signed a $2.2 million book contract, one newspaper placed the story alongside a cartoon showing two men walking in the park. One man, hanging his head in shame, said: “I lied. I cheated. I betrayed my spouse. My boss. My friends. And my Sovereign. I sullied my reputation…. I’m the lowest of the low….” The other said, “Call Fergie’s publisher.”
When Sarah sent Princess Margaret an extravagant bouquet on her birthday, the Princess pitched the flowers. Then she fired off a letter to Fergie: “You have done more to bring shame on the family than ever could have been imagined. Not once have you hung your head in embarrassment even for a minu
te after those disgraceful photographs. Clearly you have never considered the damage you are causing us all. How dare you discredit us like this and how dare you send me those flowers.”
After published disclosures from former lovers and former employees, Sarah locked herself in her home for days, weeping inconsolably. Newspapers reported the Queen became so concerned, she placed her under a suicide watch. But the Palace denied the story, implying the Queen couldn’t care less what her former daughter-in-law did to herself. The Palace reaction seemed to signal tacit permission to pile on. Days later the Sun ran a poll asking, “Who would you rather date—Fergie or a goat?” The goat won by a ratio of seven to one.*
Seeing what happened to Fergie when she lost her title, Diana objected to relinquishing hers. When Charles’s lawyers suggested that she trade in HRH the Princess of Wales for the Duchess of Cornwall, she balked. Then they proposed that she be styled HFRH (Her Former Royal Highness). Diana turned to her supporters in the media, who debated the offer, pleading with the Queen to retain Diana’s status and keep her within the royal family. They argued that as the mother of the future King she deserved no less. Historian John Grigg wrote, “The reductio ad absurdum is that, if she were to cease to be HRH, she would be obliged to curtsy to Princess Michael of Kent.” And to her own sons.
Charles maintained that he did not care one way or the other about his wife’s royal status. But he let it be known that his parents cared, particularly his father, who said that Diana was not entitled to be treated as royalty. In Philip’s eyes she had betrayed the Firm, and her indiscretion and disloyalty barred her from any consideration other than bare civility. He was riled by her demand that any future children she might have by another man be given an hereditary title. And she pushed too far when she proposed that Clarence House become her official residence upon the death of the Queen Mother. Philip insisted her title be lifted, and the Queen agreed.