The Prince Charles Letters (5 page)

11 November 2009

Dear Lady Gaga

First off, one thing I must ascertain at once – you are indeed a lady, aren’t you? I don’t mean of noble breeding, I’m with-it enough to understand that in your case the ‘Lady’ thing is a conceit and that you’re not truly laying claim to being one of the Hampshire Gagas – I mean an actual, physical lady. One cannot be too careful, I find, in this day and age, and feel it’s best to make discreet preliminary enquiries.

If you are not a lady, then I trust that, as a gentleman, you will not reveal this correspondence ever took place. However, if you happen to be one, then do write back as I have a proposition to put to you concerning one of our ‘Outward Bound’ events. You’ll agree that all of us, whether lady or gentleman, could do with more fresh air in our lungs.

Yours faithfully

HRH The Prince of Wales

Lady Gaga

c/o Universal Music

Los Angeles

California

United States of America

1 December 2009

Dear Lady Gaga

I received a return of correspondence from one of your people, which in its tone was implicitly sceptical about my bona fides. In view of this, I must declare all future correspondence between us to be closed. I am not accustomed to accusations of being a ‘hoaxer’.

You see, unlike yourself, I am what I purport to be: I am a prince. And I see what you are doing by calling yourself ‘Lady’ but you forget that some of us have long memories. We remember, for example, Ray Alan and Lord Charles, the ventriloquist double-act. So you see, you may think you are doing something ‘shocking’ and ‘original’ by subversively affecting to be a member of the nobility for entertainment purposes but it is nothing new. The aristocracy may be in decline, but it survived Lord Charles and it will survive your onslaught also.

Yours

His Royal Highness The Prince Charles Philip Arthur George, Prince of Wales, KG, KT, GCB, OM, AK, QSO, PC, ADC, Earl of Chester, Duke of Cornwall, Duke of Rothesay, Earl of Carrick, Baron of Renfrew, Lord of the Isles and Prince and Great Steward of Scotland

Bob Geldof

35–38 Portman Square

London

England

30 June 2010

Dear Mr Geldof

I’m not writing to you in your capacity as a ‘pop star’ but then, I suppose, few if any do nowadays. Rather, I was thinking, with it being the 25th anniversary of Live Aid, I watched once more the Wembley Stadium extravaganza you and your friends put on. I must say, it was dashed embarrassing – was that really my haircut back then? – but my heart went out once more to those poor Ethiopians and it pains me that despite your efforts, there are still food shortages in the Third World.

I’ve spoken to you before about the vital role allotments could play in Africa – to each family, a strip of land on which they could grow marrows, runner beans or local produce. However, the drawback is clear: a lack of watering cans. Well hang it all, we’ll let them know it’s ‘Christmas Time’ again and do something about it! Let’s have a national campaign to donate unwanted watering cans to Africa. I’ll set the thing in train – I’ve a can that’s seen better days. Bit rusty and leaky, but usable. I’m prepared to donate it to the fighting fund. I enclose said can – if you could pass it to the relevant African agency and get the publicity going for more of the same, I’d be most grateful. Doing me a favour, really, it’s cluttering up my shed.

Yours, because people are dying

HRH The Prince of Wales

PS I see your middle name is Zenon. You kept that quiet from your ‘punk rocker’ friends, didn’t you?

Rick Parfitt

Status Quo

London

England

6 August 2010

Dear Mr Parfitt

It’s funny, I must have seen you fellows play about a dozen times during the course of my life, at various variety shows and what have you. Wherever I go, you always seem to be booked. I’m really not sure why, it’s certainly not at my request, but there it is – I’ve become strangely familiar with your oeuvre, so much so as even the most ardent ‘Quo-maniac’. Indeed, in a strange kind of way, you’ve rather got under my skin.

It’s clear that, like many of us now, you are in the autumn of your years. And yet, in the moments between the slumber that is the prerogative of us senior fellows (that, and frequent night trips to the bathroom), I was quite taken by your onstage gyrations. There is a sort of Shamanic quality about the repetitive rhythms and motions of rock music, which you and your partner, Francis Rossi, embody to the full. It’s as if you’re in some sort of physical, yet spiritual communion with the pulses of nature itself, something lost to the rest of us.

Seeing you onstage makes me realise that it’s not too late for me to learn of these pulses. By Royal Command, I therefore summon the both of you to Highgrove, where you will teach me the possibly ancient and healing wisdom of ‘rocking’. Not all over the world, maybe, but all over the ballroom for a start.

Yours, raring to go

HRH The Prince of Wales

Justin Bieber

c/o MTV

Los Angeles

California

United States of America

12 November 2010

Dear Mr Bieber

As someone who takes an interest in the doings of former members of the Commonwealth like Canada (you’re always welcome back – just ribbing!), I thought it my Sovereign duty to congratulate you on being the most-googled person in the world. It seems you are quite the up-and-coming young crooner. I also read, however, rather snide remarks alleging that in a recent interview, when asked about the ‘Germans’, you professed ignorance as to who, or what, the ‘Germans’ were.

Do not be upset by this – it’s not such a bad thing as one might think. A little knowledge can be a dangerous thing for a young man. Take my son Harry. He found out at an early age who the Germans were and without going into the sordid detail, got himself in hot water as a result.

And so, my advice to you is this: get on with your career, remember to get lots of fresh air and exercise. No need to worry your young head at this stage about the Germans, save that knowledge for later life. It’s rather complicated and grim.

Yours, advisedly

HRH The Prince of Wales

Keith Richards

c/o Rolling Stones Records

London

England

28 December 2010

Dear Mr Richards

I have greatly enjoyed reading your autobiography, which my brother Andrew bought me as a Christmas gift. He has a funny turn of mind – he’s often given to presenting me with seasonal gifts, which he thinks I will find entirely unsuitable (last year it was a pair of ‘Speedos’. He was wrong then, and he is wrong again this year, so once again the last laugh is on me!).

I enjoyed your account of life with the Rolling Stones, finding it ‘rich’ and anecdotal. However, I was uncomfortable with one passage in which you talked about writing to Tony Blair and encouraging him to ‘stick to his guns’ over the Iraq war. On the rights and wrongs of that conflict I make no comment, but I would ask you: do you think it wise, as a man in your position, to pester members of government with letters telling them what they should or shouldn’t do? They are busy people and you, in turn, might be best advised to stick to your own business, which is ‘rocking’ and ‘rolling’.

Yours, constructively

HRH The Prince of Wales

The Brothers Gibb

c/o The Bee Gees

Warner Music Group

Los Angeles

United States of America

8 January 2011

Dear Brothers Gibb

First off the bat, let me congratulate you on your continued success in the field of discotheque, where I understand you continue to flourish in what many consider a ‘here today, gone tomorrow’ brand of popular music. And now to brass tacks: as you must be aware, I’ve just published a book called
Harmony
. I shan’t give the plot away but essentially it’s to do with getting back to nature’s own geometry, an ancient wisdom we’ve lost sight of amid the smoke and soot of the industrial age – equilateral triangles, vesicas, the golden section, you know the sort of thing. My co-writers explain it so much better than I do.

Anyway, I read in a periodical lying around that all the rage these days are so-called Talking Books, or ‘Audio CDs’ and what I was wondering was, it might attract readers from the younger generation if you were to enter a recording studio and sing certain key passages from the book in harmony, which I understand is your forte. One Bee Gee providing the falsetto, another the – well, you know your business.

For your troubles, I could promise you a small percentage of the royalties. I understand one of your biggest hits is called ‘Stayin’ Alive’ and hang it all, what with the global warming and losing sight of the triangles, ‘Stayin’ Alive’ is more important than ever for all of us on Planet Earth, don’t you feel? Speaking of which, I also understand we are down to the last two Bee Gees so you’ll appreciate we’re in a race against time to get this done while you’re still with us.

Yours, in close harmony

HRH The Prince of Wales

Mick Jagger

c/o Rolling Stones Records

London

England

6 February 2011

Dear Mr Jagger

Aged seventeen, and in my sixth form, I was voted by unanimous ballot by my peers ‘The Boy Least Likely To Turn Out Like Mick Jagger’. As ‘punishment’ for this supposed inadequacy, I was made to stand on my desk and perform your hit disc, ‘I Can’t Get No Satisfaction’ – jelly legs and everything.

I have not turned out like Mick Jagger, but have
you
turned out like me? Perhaps a little, as you advance with age: you are no longer quite so wild and crazy, and a little less rubber-lipped. And, I understand you live the strenuous life with plenty of exercise. In fact, I was writing to tell you that you were the subject of an ‘off-the-cuff’ quip of mine: Learning of your health ‘kick’, I remarked that nowadays, instead of calling you Mick Jagger, they should call you ‘Mick Jogger’. My staff roared – which was gratifying as they are currently under instructions not to laugh at my jokes unless they find them genuinely amusing.

Jovially, yours

HRH The Prince of Wales

Mummy and Daddy

Buckingham Palace

London

England

18 September 1959

Dear Mummy and Daddy

I hope you are both well. How is Anne and baby brother Andrew? I hope they are fine. I am fine. Are the staff fine? I hope they are fine, too.

I say, we were studying art and I read in a book about a Frenchman who said that everyone should live in completely glass houses – you know, like greenhouses or something. That way, everyone could see what everyone else was doing and it would help bring people together because they could see one another. Don’t you think it would be great if we could do that to Buckingham Palace? I mean, instead of walls, which keep us invisible from the people we rule over, if we could just have lots and lots of panes of glass. That way, they could see right through with binoculars, see what we get up to and realise we’re ordinary, down-to-earth people who care about things the same as them and they’d be happier.

Of course, we’d keep the railings to keep toughs and rogues from getting in and we’d keep the guards, too. But I think it’s a topping idea. Please may we do it?

Lots of love and handshakes

Charles

HM The Queen and HRH The Prince Philip

Buckingham Palace

London

England

30 April 1962

Dear Mother and Father

B
y now you must be wondering how I am getting on at Gordonstoun, my new school.

R
eally, it is quite nice. Different from Cheam, but it seems like a good school as schools go.

I
have been made welcome by the staff and am sure I will soon make friends with the other boys.

N
eedless to say, I am looking forward to the various activities the school has to offer.

G
ood food, as well – the porridge tasted quite well prepared and the tea was reasonably warm.

M
asters seem quite decent sorts. Not too ‘stern’ or ‘severe’, quite strict – but that is a good thing.

E
xcellent desks, too: yes, as desks go, you couldn’t ask for better desks. Solid, and wooden.

H
ave I mentioned the sports grounds? They’re really quite topping. Looking forward to rugger!

O
h, and I shouldn’t forget to mention the science lab, which seems very well equipped.

M
asters read our letters before we send them home to check for any misspellings.

E
ven so, I hope you get the message about what I think of Gordonstoun!

Please, for dear love

Charles

Captain Mark Phillips

c/o Buckingham Palace

London

England

18 February 1973

Well, Mark

Warmest congratulations on your impending nuptials to my sister Anne. I apologise again for declining your kind invitation to attend the ‘stag’ night, but I fear I am really not much of a ‘stag’ person. These events seem to bring out the most feral and atavistic tendencies in even the most civilised of men and on such occasions I’m inclined to retreat into my shell, find a quiet corner and reach for the Laurens van der Post volume I always carry in my inside pocket.

I trust yours will be a long and happy marriage. As for Anne, well … are you, Mark, familiar with the works of P.G. Wodehouse? There’s a certain sort of female he is fond of describing in his novels: strong-willed and no-nonsense, the sort that made Bertie Wooster quake with terror. I shan’t elaborate further except to say that I hope you, Mark, are no Bertie Wooster.

Also, I note your background is equestrian. Strangely, I had a dream last night in which you were a horse and Anne was riding you around Hickstead – quite successfully, no faults, until you came a cropper at the muddy brook and Anne was plunged into murky waters. At that point I woke up, possibly in terror. I have no idea what it all means, do you?

Yours, in impending brotherhood