I can’t stand up much longer, says Duke, 95
Prince Philip’s retirement marks the end of a royal double act that defined Britain in the post-war years
WITH AN imposing military gait, straight-backed, his hands clasped behind him, the Duke of Edinburgh cut a familiar figure yesterday. Those in attendance took special note. They knew they would not see his like for much longer.
“I’m sorry to hear you’re standing down,” said the mathematician Sir Michael Atiyah at a reception for members of the Order of Merit.
“Well, I can’t stand up much longer,” replied the Duke.
As the Prime Minister led the nation’s tributes to the 95-yearold consort who has stood at the Queen’s side throughout her 65year reign, the Palace was at pains to point out that his decision to retire in the autumn from public engagements had not been taken on medical grounds.
“The Duke decided this is the right time; he’s nearly 96 and most people will have retired 30 years earlier,” a royal aide said.
Theresa May said Prince Philip had given the monarch “steadfast support”, while Jeremy Corbyn, a stated republican, said the Duke’s “clear sense of public duty” had inspired people for more than 60 years.
In a statement from Downing Street, Mrs May added: “His contribution to our United Kingdom, the Commonwealth and the wider world will be of huge benefit to us all for years to come.”
It is understood the Duke had been considering stepping down from public duties over the past few months and took the decision to make the announcement now, before his autumn diary was finalised.
But the Palace said he may decide to attend certain events from time to time.
“In taking this decision, the Duke has the full support of the Queen,” an official statement said. “Prince Philip will attend previously scheduled engagements between now and August, both individually and accompanying the Queen.
“Her Majesty will continue to carry out a full programme of official engagements with the support of members of the Royal Family.”
His contribution will be of huge benefit for years to come. Prime Minister Theresa May.
FOR TWO thirds of a century he has stood at his wife’s side and smiled, sometimes through gritted teeth, at the passing parade of heads of state, honourees and commoners.
But with the announcement yesterday of the Duke of Edinburgh’s autumn retirement, the curtain fell on a royal double act that defined Britain in the post-war years and ever since.
It was a turn he carried off to perfection. “You’re about to see the world’s most experienced plaque-unveiler,” he had told the crowd just the day before, as he opened the new stand at Lord’s cricket ground.
He will be doing less of that in the future. “He is looking forward to enjoying more of his leisure time,” said an aide. Another pointed out that most people would have retired 30 years earlier.
He will retain his association with the 780 organisations he supports, but other members of the family will now step up to support the monarch.
Philip’s role, a deferential one step behind yet ready to lend a hand, was one for which he had known he was destined – yet it was a mantle he assumed much earlier than he had wanted.
The death of his father-in-law, George VI, in 1952, at just 56, ended any expectation of a lowprofile royal life as a new parent. Instead, he would have to defer to his courtiers.
Yet there was no doubt within the royal household as to who wore the trousers. Philip was the head of the family, a modernising figure but an irascible character who said what he thought, no matter what the consequences
When, finally, he steps down, at 96, it will be as the longestserving consort in British history.
Born in Corfu to Prince Andrew of Greece and Princess Alice of Battenburg, he had an uncommon relationship with Britain.
His childhood was split between here and France, after his family went into exile following a military coup in Greece which overthrew his uncle, King Constantine I.
His parents split up and he rarely saw either of them.
But during the Second World War, he served with distinction in the Royal Navy. While still a cadet, he caught the eye of the 13-year-old Princess Elizabeth – a distant cousin – when she visited the Britannia Royal Naval College with her parents, the King and Queen.
Over the years their friendship grew, and in 1947, she married the dashing, blond Philip in Westminster Abbey.
He renounced his Greek title, became a naturalised British subject, and was made Duke of Edinburgh by the King.
That was where it went offscript. He had thought the extended honeymoon of a naval career split between London and the isle of Malta, where he was still stationed, would last for a decade or more. His wife’s accession to the throne changed all that.
In creating his new role as the first post-Victorian consort, he also defined the modern monarchy, accompanying the Queen around the world on Commonwealth tours and state visits and across the UK.
After being told to keep out of the Queen’s official duties, he set about modernising Buckingham Palace, and reorganised the Balmoral and Sandringham estates, as well as becoming ranger of Windsor Great Park.
In 1956, he set up the Duke of Edinburgh’s Award, inspired by his time at Gordonstoun School in Morayshire. It has become one of the country’s bestknown youth self-improvement programmes.
A symbol of continuity within the monarchy and public life, he has been the person the Queen relies upon above all others.
His first private secretary Michael Parker, a friend from the Navy, once revealed: “He told me the first day he offered me my job that his job, first, second and last was never to let her down.”
You’re about to see the world’s most experienced plaque-unveiler. Prince Philip as he opened the new stand at Lord’s cricket ground.