WHAT THE CROWDS WANT NOW
Rory Knight Bruce talks
to those still grieving outside Kensington Palace
THE FLOWERS are talking, and they are whispering for reform.
On Thursday, the bouquets laid for Diana, Princess of Wales at the London royal residences will be removed and taken to hospitals or composted. In the fortnight since her death, they have become symbols of grief, sorrow, compassion and guilt.
At Kensington Palace, the Princess's for- mer residence, the bouquets resemble not so much an ocean, as they have been described by the papers, but rather a large dew-pond of tears — the cellophane wrap- ping does nothing to diminish their poignancy. They are spontaneous gifts from a nation united in shock and sorrow — from school projects, from minority interest groups, from political parties and from different nations, all of whom the Princess touched. The only discordant note among them is a large placard placed, without any sense of shame, by the Daily Mail at the very front of Kensington Palace, a gesture as false in its offering as Lord Rothermere's meaningless promise this week that the paper will in future not accept paparazzi photographs 'without my express permission'.
Why such a large number of flowers and gifts have been left and why teddy bears now hang from royal railings may be explained as an outpouring of personal sadness. As the initial shock of Diana's death subsides, and before the bouquets are finally whisked away, it is worth con- sidering their wider influence and implica- tions.
On Tuesday, in the early autumn sun- light in Kensington Gardens, the crowd by ten o'clock still numbered more than 5,000. True, the queue to sign the books of condolence had been reduced to a few hundred, and those who regularly use the park had returned with their personal stereos, baseball caps, skateboards and t'ai chi exercises, but the lasting impression was that Kensington Palace would become a shrine, a place of pilgrimage far more appropriate, by geography and sentiment, than a statue in Trafalgar Square or the renaming of Heathrow airport.
The real significance of the flowers and the outpouring of grief they represent is how they will affect the monarchy itself. It is not enough to say, as Earl Spencer did at the funeral, that Diana's influence was achieved without the help of her royal sta- tus. Nor is it enough for the royal family to believe that such a volume of flowers is also meant for them. Very few — perhaps a dozen — of the attached messages make any reference to the Prince of Wales, whereas Dodi Fayed (often mentioned in parentheses) is frequently included.
The Queen's speech was perceived by many as icy, grand and remote. 'We are here for Diana, not for the monarchy,' explained a South African, Ron Cowley, 54, on holiday for a week with three friends. 'The monarchy severely underesti- mated that what she did she always did well, and we do not respect them for that,' said a physiotherapist, Franne Mallen, also in the party. Seventy-eight-year-old Gladys Swansbury-Jones, a Metropolitan Police schools patrol crossing officer, was prepared to go further. 'What the Prince of Wales and the younger royals need is a good kick up the arse,' she said. 'If it wasn't for our effort in the war, none of them would be here, enjoying the privi- leges that they do.'
Robert Lucke, a pilot, also from South Africa, believed that the royal family, and the Prince of Wales in particular, had much to learn froth the tragedy. 'Prince William is the first future king of Great Britain the country is really looking for- ward to,' he said. These are not Republi- cans — the South African party is here to go to the last night of the Proms — but they share a profound feeling that Diana received shabby treatment from the royal family and that recognition of this must be made by acknowledging her virtues and incorporating at least some of her outlook and popularity in the future monarchy.
Of those milling around the gardens of Kensington Palace — and we can, in terms of their bearing on the future of the consti- tution, discount mooning teenage models and Japanese tourists — there is a fair rep- resentation of Middle England. Their view and that of the prayers they bring is that there must be change and reform within the monarchy. 'The royal family have start- ed to come out of the Victorian age,' said Mel Sparks, in her thirties, who had come up from Hertfordshire with her husband Phil and their two young children. 'At heart we are traditionalists, but we feel they have got to change much more.'
So there is a cry for change among the tears of sorrow. The person this will most affect will be the Prince of Wales. 'Any question of him now marrying Camilla Parker Bowles would appear both indecent and trivial,' said John Rayment, 42, who was laying his flowers while taking a break between sales appointments for the com- puter firm for which he works. 'Why does he wear those double-breasted suits and that outsized signet ring? It simply enforces that he is out of touch,' was the view of Sally McDonald, 31, an artist from North- ern Ireland. Indeed, although it is a small point, the Prince may also wish to dispense with the Goonish clasping together of his fingers (a habit Tony Blair has acquired).
`The Prince of Wales could not marry Mrs Parker Bowles and remain in the suc- cession,' said Ronnie Williams, 71, a GP with a practice in Sloane Street. 'I feel the Prince was never cuddled as a child, so could not respond warmly to Diana,' he continued. Yet he believes the monarchy can take heart from the floral tributes.
The flowers may fade, but the feelings for Diana will be irrevocably linked to the fortunes and the future of the monarchy. At this stage, so soon after her death, the confused emotions of the public do not give us a complete picture. But those who have laid down their flowers are also laying up hopes: that the Princess will be remem- bered, that her children will be cared for and that the monarchy will for once con- nect with the feelings of its subjects rather than retreat in Germanic posturing behind castle walls, quibbling about flag-flying and outdated protocol.
As for Kensington Gardens, the flowers may soon be gone and the dewpond of sad- ness may soon give way once more to the Round Pond of Peter Pan, yet it will remain the most likely point of pilgrimage. `The laying of flowers is not just about peo- ple power, it is about the power of princi- ple,' concluded Dr Williams. A renaming of Hyde Park and a memorial garden might be an initiative for the Palace to consider. After all, it was good enough for Prince Albert, who surely would not have wanted an airport named after him.