Her ‘snapping’ at Philip over intruder
IN JULY 1982, an intruder — a 33-year-old schizophrenic named Michael Fagan — found his way into Buckingham Palace and disturbed the Queen, alone, asleep in bed.
This alarming incident prompted a double dose of outrage from elements of the Press: why was the Palace’s security so lamentable and where was Prince Philip? Why was he not on hand to come to his wife’s rescue?
Indeed, the ‘revelation’ that the Queen and her husband did not appear to share a bedroom caused more comment in certain quarters than the fact that a lunatic could wander off the street and into the sovereign’s bedroom without let or hindrance.
The Queen, who, at the time, handled the intrusion with commendable calm, was nevertheless shaken. The popular Press had the answer: ‘Give her a cuddle, Philip,’ instructed one headline.
In fact, when sleeping under the same roof, the Queen and Prince Philip usually did share the same bed. It just happened that on the morning of Fagan’s intrusion, Philip had a crack-of-dawn start for an out-of-town official engagement and so spent the night in his own quarters.
Their long-standing friend Gina Kennard told me: ‘At Balmoral that year — after that man got into her bedroom — the Queen began snapping at Philip. She was really quite snappy with him. Which was unusual for her. Not for him, of course. He’s always been a bit snappy. But the man getting into her room was horrid.’
It was. The man had a broken glass ashtray in his hand and was bleeding when he entered the Queen’s bedroom at around 7.15am.
She pressed the alarm button by her bed, but her overnight police guard had gone off duty at 6am and her footman was walking the corgis. Fagan simply wandered in, drew the curtains and sat on the bed.
He wanted to share his troubles with Her Majesty. (Later, he told police he had planned to slash his wrists in front of the Queen.) Eventually, when he asked for a cigarette, the Queen managed to manoeuvre him out of the bedroom and the alarm was raised.
The incident prompted a review of Palace security, which was, in the words of Fagan himself, ‘diabolical’. This was not Fagan’s first dawn raid on the Palace: on the previous occasion he had stolen a bottle of wine.
The then Home Secretary Willie Whitelaw, who was ultimately responsible for the Queen’s security, offered his resignation. It was declined. Some years later, he told me, his eyes brimming with tears: ‘I felt utterly ashamed, utterly miserable. It was the worst moment of my public life.’