For 12 years, Dickie Arbiter guarded Charles and Diana’s secrets. Now he’s telling the shocking details behind their crumbling marriage.
Yesterday, he described the agony of their break-up. Today, in the final part of this series, he tells of his anguish at Diana’s death, and the Palace’s bewildered reaction to the nation’s grief.
A car approached as I walked up the private road towards Kensington Palace. The driver’s window slid down as the vehicle slowed, and I realised that it was Diana. She smiled and waved as she always did. She looked happy.
I knew she would be heading back to the South of France imminently. She had just been on holiday there with her boys, but now that they were in Scotland with the rest of the Royal Family, she was planning to return at the invitation of her friend, Dodi Fayed.
They were in the midst of a brief summer romance, a simple flirtation at best, but I was glad to know she wouldn’t be by herself for the remainder of the school holidays.
Diana (in the back seat), driver Henri Paul (right) and Dodi Fayed were killed in the crash in Paris. Bodyguard Trevor Rees-Jones (left) survived.
The Mercedes Diana was travelling in collided with a roof-supporting pillar in the Pont de l'Alma tunnel in Paris
Two weeks later, the memory of that neighbourly exchange between the Princess and me played in my head as I sat, transfixed by the live TV images of a car lying twisted and mangled in the depths of a tunnel in Paris.
I had known Diana for 17 years. We had spent countless hours in each other’s company, aboard planes and in hotels. We’d enjoyed many laughs and we’d had the occasional differences of opinion, too.
In the years I had acted as press spokesman for her and Prince Charles she had frustrated me more than once. But the good times had far outweighed the bad.
How could she be dead? It was so deeply upsetting that I had been hardly able to bear to look at those dreadful TV pictures. But I knew that I had to push my emotions to one side. I had a job to do.
At Buckingham Palace the press office phones were ringing off the hook. With hardly anything to go on, we did the best we could, telling the journalists we would have more information for them in the morning.
After days of hesitation, it was agreed that a flag would fly at half-mast over Buckingham Palace
Royal press officer Dickie Arbiter recalls Diana's butler, Paul Burrell (left), running sobbing around his apartment as they awaited news from the crash
I phoned Windsor Castle, Sandringham and Holyrood House to ask them to lower their flags to half-mast. The question of what to do at Buckingham Palace, however, was another matter.
With Her Majesty at Balmoral, there was no flag flying over the Palace. As tradition dictates, the Royal Standard flies there only when the sovereign is in residence.
Here was the conundrum; the Royal Standard is never flown at half-mast, even when the sovereign passes away, a symbol of the continuity of the monarchy.
Should we fly a flag at half-mast when, traditionally, no flag should be flown at all? Fly a Union flag when custom dictates it should be the Royal Standard? Or leave the pole glaringly bare? These were questions which, in the dawn hours of August 31, 1997, no one seemed capable of answering.
By 5am, people were already arriving in their droves to lay flowers at the Palace gates. But as the number of bouquets escalated, so too did the concerns of those responsible for the changing of the guard.
A policeman was despatched to let us know the proliferation of flowers outside the centre gates was a problem. Traditionally used by the outgoing duty soldiers, they needed to be kept unobstructed.
On a normal day that would be reasonable, but this was not a normal day.
‘I’m sorry, but that’s not going to be an option,’ I told the policeman.
Within minutes, the guard commander came to see me himself. Either he was unaware of the enormity of what had happened in Paris, or he was not quite conversant with what seemed to be unquestionably the right thing to do.
It would have looked appalling if we were seen to be clearing the flowers out of the way. I was surprised he couldn’t see that for himself. I told him in no uncertain terms that there were three other gates, and the flowers were staying.
With the matter finally resolved, I set off for RAF Northolt to co-ordinate the media for Diana’s return journey home from France. The sadness in the still summer air that Sunday was palpable.
Diana's funeral procession followed the same route that had been planned for the Queen Mother
The following morning, the date was set for the funeral. It would take place on Saturday, September 6 — which gave us less than five days to arrange the biggest royal event since the Princess’s wedding 16 years earlier.
It had been decided that Diana’s procession would follow the same route as the funeral planned for the Queen Mother, then 97 years old. It would leave the Chapel Royal, travel down the Mall, along Horse Guards and right into Whitehall before going on to Westminster Abbey.
The irony of what we were doing was not lost on any member of my team. Only ten days before we had walked exactly the same route and discussed the exact same plans for the Queen Mother’s funeral.
We never imagined we would be doing it again so soon afterwards, for another Royal entirely — one for whom we could not have predicted such a tragedy.
Still, for want of a blessing, it was helpful to have everything so fresh in our minds. So far, so good. But perhaps there was something we could have predicted: that something had to give. It had all been going far too smoothly.
By Tuesday morning it was becoming rapidly apparent to those of us co-ordinating the funeral — a group which included the Lord Chamberlain, Tony Blair’s press spokesman Alastair Campbell, the Metropolitan Police Commissioner Paul Condon and, on conference call from Balmoral, the Queen’s deputy private secretary Robin Janvrin — that there were a couple of elephants in the room that needed to be urgently dealt with.
Namely, why was there no flag flying at half-mast over Buckingham Palace? And why hadn’t the Queen returned to London to speak to her people?
We, of course, knew the facts. The Queen and her family were dealing with the tragedy in their own private way.
Her Majesty’s primary concern was protecting Princes William and Harry from the glare of the media spotlight, and from the unprecedented number of grieving masses flooding into London.
But hard on the heels of the negative publicity surrounding the Wales’s divorce, the decision to remain in Scotland with the boys was seen as inappropriate in some quarters.
A belief that the Royal Family was getting it wrong, and was distinctly out of touch, was starting to take hold.
It needed addressing, but the comments from the Queen’s deputy private secretary were not encouraging. She had no immediate plans to travel to London, and her secretary was apparently also struggling with the request to fly a Union flag at half-mast over Buckingham Palace.
Her Majesty’s courtiers appeared entirely unwilling to explain to her that she was playing right into the hands of certain sections of the media and public, fuelling a raft of negative headlines.
Floral tributes and cards began to appear outside Kensington Palace the morning after Diana's death
A sea of flowers lay outside the gates to the Palace just a day after the princess's tragic death
The main gate to Buckingham Palace was also covered in flowers, meaning the changing of the guard route had to be changed
It had now been four days since my pager had awoken me with the news of the crash in Paris — four of the longest and most intense days of my working life.
Through it all, with the exception of a brief few hours at RAF Northolt, I had pushed all personal thoughts of Diana to the back of my mind.
But on that difficult Wednesday afternoon I managed to find a few moments to myself, and I knew where I wanted to spend them: in the Chapel Royal, alone with my former boss.
I had hoped for a sense of peace, but a deep anger welled up inside me instead. I felt angry because I remembered how meticulous the Princess had always been about getting in her car and fastening the seatbelt. Had she done just that one thing, which she had always advocated so strongly, the outcome of the terrible crash would almost certainly have been very different.
‘Why, Ma’am?’ I asked her aloud. ‘Why didn’t you put on your seatbelt? How could you have been so stupid?’
I was angry with the driver and her bodyguard, too. Why had neither of them insisted she put on her seatbelt?
I must have vented my fury for at least half an hour. A rush of sorrow was building up inside me for such a terrible waste of a young life — and at a time when it was just becoming whole again.
I got up and turned to leave, knowing that I would be back. There was still more I wanted to say to her. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. Not just yet.
After a few days in isolation at Balmoral, Princes William, Harry and Charles arrived at Kensington Palace to view tributes left by members of the public
By Thursday, the flak from sections of the media at home and abroad was coming thick and fast.
Why had no member of the Royal Family gone to pay their respects to the Princess at the Chapel Royal? Why had none of them signed the books of condolence? We were skating on very thin ice from a PR point of view. I decided to take matters into my own hands.
Knowing that Prince Edward was staying at the Palace, and would probably be going to his office at some point, I decided to give him an early call.
‘Good morning, Sir. Are you going to work today?’ I said. ‘Because if you are, I suggest that you stop off and look at the books of condolence in St James’s Palace.’
‘Er . . . I’m not sure,’ he replied, doubtfully. ‘I’ve got various things I have to do . . .’ This was no time for umming and ahhing. I held firm. ‘I’m sorry, Sir, but we need someone to be seen going in there.’
I arranged to take him down there personally, after which he could immediately return to work. I assumed that the matter was settled, but 20 minutes later the Prince was back on the phone.
‘Ah . . . but will anyone see me?’ he asked.
At that point there were more cameras around the royal palaces than there had ever been. ‘No need to worry about that,’ I said. ‘You will definitely be seen.’
I arranged to take him down there personally, after which he could immediately return to work. I assumed that the matter was settled, but 20 minutes later the Prince was back on the phone.
‘Just to let you know I’m not going down now, OK?’ he said. ‘I’m going with the Duke of York later on this afternoon instead.’
I mentally counted to ten, then replied: ‘Can we have a chat?’
It would be such a small gesture to correct such a huge negative groundswell. How difficult could it be to understand that? The Prince appeared five minutes later. ‘I don’t understand,’ I said to him. ‘What exactly is the problem?’
‘There’s not a problem,’ he said. ‘I’m just going with the Duke of York this afternoon, that’s all.’
As I couldn’t very well drag him by the hand, I suggested again that he should go that morning.
Somewhat taken aback, the Prince blinked hard, but thankfully didn’t argue the point. My guess was that his reluctance had been based on fear. No one could have failed to be aware of the hostility that was brewing, and I’m sure that he was anxious about the reaction he might receive.
I could understand this, but we simply could not afford any reticence. No doubt his brother felt the same way. In the end, they needn’t have worried. Both the waiting crowd and the Press were unfailingly polite toward both of them.
After days of intense media scrutiny, the Queen and Prince Philip arrived for Diana's funeral
Also on the positive side, a decision on the flag issue had been reached at long last.
We were able to tell journalists that when Her Majesty left Buckingham Palace for the funeral service at Westminster Abbey, the Royal Standard would be replaced by the Union flag at half-mast — a landmark occurrence.
Furthermore, she was to give a televised tribute to Diana on the eve of the funeral — another royal first. Never had she addressed the nation in such a way. The rules were being rewritten as we went along.
Amid all the day’s madness, I made sure to find time to attend to some unfinished business. I walked over to the Chapel Royal and found to my good fortune that there wasn’t anyone around.
The anger I had felt on my previous visit had left me. As I stood beside the casket for the second time, my fingertips lightly resting on the fabric of the Royal Standard, I felt nothing but warmth and affection for the woman that I had known.
Amid all the day’s madness, I made sure to find time to attend to some unfinished business. I walked over to the Chapel Royal and found to my good fortune that there wasn’t anyone around.
I talked to her about the good times we’d had over the years — the wonderful 50th birthday lunch she’d laid on for me, all the royal tours, the jokes and silly games.
I thought about the times she wouldn’t speak to me for a couple of weeks because I’d negated one of her suggestions, how she would later phone me for a favour only to hear me say: ‘Are we talking again, then?’
She would giggle, and just like that I would be back at her bidding.
In the quiet of the Chapel Royal, I thanked her for being so incredibly kind to my daughter Victoria, both in person and once Victoria had left to begin her studies in the U.S. I thanked her for the notes she’d written to Victoria from time to time, asking how she was getting on.
I admitted that I’d given my daughter my ticket to the funeral, stating that, as ever, I’d be tied up in the press office, mobile phone in hand, troubleshooting.
‘Would that be all right, Ma’am?’ I asked her. ‘I hope you don’t mind.’
Something told me she would probably approve. I don’t know how long I spent with her, certainly no more than 40 minutes. What I do know is that when I was done, I had talked myself out. I placed a hand fully atop the casket and rested it there a moment in a final farewell.
‘Goodbye Ma’am . . . and thank you.’ I bowed from the neck, and left the Chapel.
The young princes, their father Charles and Earl Spencer, Diana's brother (left) look on as Diana's coffin passes
Not being able to count on how the public would react, anxieties were running high as we anticipated the arrival back in London of the Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh.
The plan was that their first appearance in public would be to pay their respects to Diana, and then meet members of the public signing the condolence books.
I knew the next hour would perhaps be one of Her Majesty’s most difficult, given the element of public anger in recent days.
There would be a short walkabout along Marlborough Road to the Mall, and finally the brief drive to Buckingham Palace.
I arrived at St James’s Palace ahead of the Queen and Prince Philip to be on hand if needed. I knew the next hour would perhaps be one of Her Majesty’s most difficult, given the element of public anger in recent days.
The police seemed to share my concerns, although I felt they had overreacted. I saw no reason for the Queen and Duke of Edinburgh to have to meet the public from behind the wall of uniformed officers that had been put in place.
While Her Majesty and the Duke were inside the Chapel Royal, I spoke to the senior officer. He agreed that their numbers were over the top, and a significant number of them were withdrawn.
The coffin of Diana, Princess of Wales, being carried inside Westminster Abbey, for her funeral service
The Queen was mostly met with smiles and respectfully muted applause as she viewed the flowers
The couple eventually emerged and spent 20 minutes completing the short walk from St James’s Palace to the Mall and speaking to people who had come to pay their respects
.
So far, all was going to plan. I was relieved that the Queen had been mostly met with smiles and respectfully muted applause.
Outside the Palace, too, Her Majesty and the Duke moved easily in front of the crowd, talking to individuals and listening to their words of condolence.
At one point, the Queen offered to place some flowers atop the drift of bouquets for an 11-year-old girl only to be told: ‘No, Your Majesty... these are for you.’
I was happy to see her on the receiving end of such a warm gesture.
As it turned out, the British public wasn’t as hostile towards the monarchy as we had been led to believe.
It is my belief that people had finally taken time to think about why the Queen had chosen to remain at Balmoral.
Perhaps they’d also thought about the fact that the young Princes had not only arrived back in London the day before, but spent time inspecting the sea of flowers outside Kensington Palace and meeting some of the hordes of well-wishers gathered there.
There was no doubt in my mind that those boys, just 15 and 12, had been able to steel themselves for the task at hand largely because of that crucial time spent with their grandparents, away from public scrutiny.
As we neared the car, the Queen turned to me and gave me a look that seemed to seek reassurance about how her appearance had been received.
My response was straightforward.
‘That was fine, Your Majesty. Just fine.’
I bowed from the neck and she disappeared into the car.
That the Queen had sought my support, in however small a way, moved me greatly. I will never forget it, and I was glad to have been able to reassure her. Because it was fine.
Source: the dailymail
