After the tragic death of Princess Diana in 1997, not much
was said about her parents’ grief. The emphasis, quite rightly, was placed on
her two young sons, Prince William, just 15 years of age, and Prince Harry who
was about to turn 13. Who can forget the sight of those two young boys walking
with such dignity behind their mother’s coffin? Of course when you become part
of the British Royal Family I suppose you are drawn under their cloak of
mystery and awe. Even a divorced ex wife was bound to have her eventual
internment organized by “the Firm”. She was after all the mother of a future
King and had to be treated accordingly.
But when a child dies, in whatever circumstances, before
their parents, the whole natural order is turned on its head. When my aunty
Mary died of cancer aged 61, her mother, my grandma, then aged 82 never really
got over it and died two and a half years later. Mary herself had lived a sad
life, married to a violent drinker; her first baby girl was stillborn. My mum’s
younger sister suffered a similar tragedy when her first child, Tony who was
born with a very severe form of cerebral palsy, lost his fight for life and
succumbed to pneumonia aged only 15. Aunty Vonnie’s mental health deteriorated
from then on and although she also lived into her early sixties, broken hearted,
she sadly eventually took her own life.
Likewise, Princess Diana was also a daughter, sister, aunt,
close relation to many other people even if they remained fairly anonymous and
preferred it that way. As a mother of a 10 year old and 8 year old at the time
of Diana’s death, I spared very little thought for her parents, especially her
mother, Frances Shand Kydd. As my children grew up and their lives didn’t
always go according to plan I began to feel some sympathy for the woman,
cruelly nicknamed “the Bolter” by her ex husband and Diana’s father, Earl John Spencer,
Viscount Althorp. She had, in my opinion, and to quote the marvelous Marilyn
Monroe in the wickedly funny film, “Some Like it Hot”, definitely ended up with
the fuzzy end of the lollipop! Frances was only 18 when she too married a man
12 years her senior in a glittering society wedding attended by Her Majesty
Queen Elizabeth and everyone who was anyone of importance in 1954. Jonny
Spencer was a well known philanderer but it was she who was cast as the villain
when she eventually broke free from her unhappy marriage to marry her second
husband, wallpaper heir, Peter Shand Kydd. After a particularly vicious custody
battle in which her own mother sided with Jonny Spencer, Frances lost all four
of her children who stayed with their father. After the birth of her first two
daughters, Sarah, now Lady Sarah McCorquodale and Jane, Now Baroness Fellowes,
she lost a baby boy, John, who died shortly after his birth, so she has had
more than her fair share of tragedy. Added to which there was the pressure of
being an aristocrat’s wife who was expected to produce a son and heir to the
lands and title. She eventually succeeded when she gave birth to Charles, the 9th
Earl Spencer, which must have come as a relief after producing three daughters.
Years later she then had to bear the indignity of her
youngest daughter, Diana’s very public humiliation and subsequent divorce. By
which time she had escaped to far away Seil near Oban in Scotland. I must admit
there were times when my daughter’s life was in turmoil due to her unfortunate choice
of partner, that I too day dreamed about finding a little hideaway somewhere to
escape the flak! Sadly, Frances fell out with her daughter just before Diana’s
death over an interview she gave to a magazine and I too have put my big foot
in it on occasions when I have attempted to support my daughter against her
ex-partners. We mothers sometimes don’t know when to keep our counsel but it is
all, usually, in the name of love. Fortunately I have never distanced myself
from my girl and she always knew I had her back.
Prince William’s wife, the former Kate Middleton, seems to
have got it about right as she has managed to maintain a wonderfully close
relationship with her parents and siblings. If I could give one piece of advice
to Meghan Markle, the fiancée of Prince Harry, it would be this. As much as you
must be in awe of the great and auspicious family you are about to marry into,
never forget your own family, at least the ones you are close to, mother, father
etc. as to them you will always be their little girl who they will love
unconditionally through thick or thin and who have always looked upon you as
their own special Princess.
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