William and Harry
Authors: Katie Nicholl
and Harry
Katie Nicholl
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Coming off the rails at Club H
A gap-year prince but a reluctant king
Kate Middleton, princess-in-waiting
This book is dedicated to my husband for his uncompromising love and support, and to my family, especially my mother, for showing me what true courage is.
Modernisation is quite a strong word to use with the monarchy because it’s something that’s been around for many hundreds of years. But I think it’s important that people feel the monarchy can keep up with them and is relevant to their lives. We are all human and inevitably mistakes are made. But in the end there is a great sense of loyalty and dedication among the family and it rubs off on me. Ever since I was very small, it’s something that’s been very much impressed on me, in a good way.
Prince William on his twenty-first birthday
It is more than a decade since princes William and Harry, then just fifteen and twelve years old, united in grief, walked behind their mother’s funeral cortege. The single white envelope bearing the word ‘Mummy’, written in Harry’s hand, is still probably the most powerful and moving image of these two extraordinary young men. Tragically Diana’s funeral was William and Harry’s first public duty. But however poignant the memory of that day remains, the princes are no longer boys. Today they are young men. They are soldiers, forging lives of their own – or trying to.
They are on the precipice of greatness and, though they may not always like it, they and their advisers know that the public perception of them matters. Over the past year there has been a
concerted effort behind the palace walls to reinvent their public images. Louche behaviour such as falling out of nightclubs will no longer be tolerated. Since graduating from Sandhurst Harry has gone to war and fought on the frontline for Queen and country. William is full of zeal for his own career and determined to become a search and rescue pilot.
Today we are seeing more of the royal brothers than ever before. They grace glossy magazine covers, they give interviews, they address the worlds of film, television and music. They use their titles to promote their charitable works. They have their own office and team of aides and their own agendas. They are as recognised and popular around the world as any Hollywood ‘A’ list celebrity.
Now is the time for William and Harry to shoulder their responsibility. The royal brothers will be carrying out their first official overseas tour to Africa to see first hand the fruits of their charitable works. In their efforts to map out their separate paths they are continually pushing at the boundaries of royal protocol, as their mother so famously did. They are re-shaping the future of the great British monarchy with their every step.
Quite simply they are the future of the House of Windsor. Male primogeniture dictates that we will have King Charles and Queen Camilla before we have King William V and possibly Queen Catherine, but many believe it will be William who will be the standard bearer for a new twenty-first-century royal family.
But for all their modern attitudes, the tradition and restraint of monarchy continues its hold. Like their father, William and Harry struggle with the idea that their lives are already ‘mapped
out’. While they recognise the unique privileges their royal titles bring, they both still crave normality. It is why William loves to ride his motorbike around the streets of London, safe in the knowledge that in his leathers and helmet he is anonymous. And the reason Harry has admitted he often wishes he wasn’t a prince.
So who
are
these young men? So much in the spotlight and yet so little understood or truly known by any of the subjects over whom one of them at least will one day reign? What forces have shaped them? What relationships have formed them? What hopes and disappointments have left their imprint on their characters? It is not simply a case of William being the heir and Harry the spare. The bond between them runs far deeper. Together they seem themselves as ‘Team Wales’.
I have spent the past eight years observing the princes metamorphose from cautious teenagers into responsible young men who are passionate about their careers and their charities. Yet to many they exist only in snapshot recollections; images captured in stage-managed appearances. With this book I hope to change that.
An heir and a spare
I want to bring them security. I hug my children to death and get into bed with them at night. I always feed them love and affection.
Diana, Princess of Wales
Princess Diana peered through the floral curtains of her room at St Mary’s Hospital in Paddington and watched the rain trickle down the Georgian sash windows. Below, the crowds snaked along the street, sheltering beneath a canopy of umbrellas. Among the sea of soggy cellophane-wrapped flowers, Union Jack flags and congratulatory banners, Diana could make out the press pack, some of who were on ladders, their lenses trained on the hospital entrance, eagerly awaiting the first glimpse of the baby prince. Very soon all eyes would be on the royal baby sleeping peacefully in his new cot oblivious to the fact that his first photocall was awaiting him.
Wrapped in swaddling blankets the future king of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland had already been assigned a full-time bodyguard from Scotland Yard’s Royalty and Diplomatic Protection Squad, who now stood guard outside the private hospital room. While Diana had wanted nothing more than for her son to be ‘normal’, this child would grow up in palaces. He was only a day old, but the young prince’s life had already been mapped out, his destiny shaped by a thousand years of royal history.
Outside, the mood was of anticipation and growing excitement. The Queen, jubilant and immaculate in a purple dress coat, had been to visit that morning. They had not always seen eye to eye, but today Diana could do no wrong in the eyes of her mother-in-law. She had produced a healthy heir to the House of Windsor, and in keeping with tradition a notice had been posted on the gates of Buckingham Palace announcing the happy news. The prince and princess had yet to decide on a name: Charles had wanted Arthur, but Diana preferred William and would get her way. It had been a long labour and she was desperate to get home to Kensington Palace, where more well-wishers awaited the couple’s arrival.
Diana had written royal history when on Monday 21 June 1982, the summer solstice, Prince William Arthur Philip Louis of Wales was born in the private Lindo Wing of St Mary’s Hospital. Like generations of royals before him, his father Charles had been delivered in the Belgian Suite at Buckingham Palace, but Diana, as the royal family quickly discovered, wanted to do things differently. She had endured a difficult pregnancy and terrible morning sickness – which had been the subject of daily press articles to add to the indignity of it all – and when the time came, she was determined to give birth in a modern hospital, not a palace.
The prince and princess had arrived at St Mary’s in the early hours of Monday morning, following Diana’s first contractions. The princess later recalled she had been ‘sick as a parrot’ during the sixteen-hour labour. Charles had been there throughout, offering words of comfort and sips of water to revive her. At one point he had dozed off in an armchair but he was at Diana’s side when her gynaecologist George Pinker and his team of nurses
safely delivered their son at exactly three minutes past nine that evening. The prince had blue eyes and a wisp of blond hair and weighed in at a healthy seven pounds, one and a half ounces. Only when he was content that Diana was asleep did Charles leave his wife’s side to address the public. The little boy, he announced, was beautiful, and mother and child were doing well. ‘We’re very proud.’ He beamed. ‘It’s been thirty hours, a long time.’ ‘Does he look like you, sir?’ a royal reporter enquired. ‘No, he’s lucky enough not to,’ joked Charles, adding that he was relieved and delighted, if a little exhausted from the birth. He couldn’t stop smiling, and when a female fan squeezed under the police barrier to plant a kiss on his cheek he blushed furiously. ‘You’re very kind,’ he spluttered before bidding the crowd farewell and returning to Kensington Palace for a nightcap.