Thursday January 5, 1978

_.Received an application form from YTV. Filled in the details tonight including a list of my exam results, and a pathetic sight they are indeed.

At lunchtime I went to the library. Got books on James, Duke of Monmouth by Bryan Bevan; King James II by Jock Haswell; 'Whose Body?' by Dorothy L. Sayers and 'The Scarlet Pimpernel' by Baroness Orczy. Tonight I read a good deal of the Monmouth book. He is of course an ancestor of the Dukes of Buccleuch and of Lady Alice Montagu Douglas Scott, mother of the Duke of Gloucester, and an aunt of the Queen. Don't quite understand why Charles II elevated his bastard son to such rank. Did the King have the idea of making the duke his heir but at some stage changed his mind? The King's Roman Catholic sympathies naturally endeared him to his brother and rightful heir, the Duke of York. It is quite a few years since I looked at the Stuart period. My sympathies are very much with the two Charleses, but James II leaves me quite cold. Neither am I fond of the dour William III or the fat, white Queen Anne.

Saw 'Top of the Pops' and had a glass of cider with Mum and Dad. It was incredibly strong and almost blew my head off.

Retired to bed with the Monmouth book relatively early.

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Saturday November 19, 1977

Just Susan and I closeted together for most of the day. I got out of bed at noon with a crashing hangover. For four or five hours I reclined on the sofa with a pained expression on my pale, ghastly face. Lynn went off to a wedding after lunch saying I am a disgusting specimen. She doesn't realise that we bachelors have a hell of a life with tremendous responsibilities to hold and reputations to keep up. We can't just sit by the fireside on winter evenings with a good book, perhaps watching "Crossroads" on the TV. Oh no, we have to socialise on a nauseating scale taking in parties, orgies &c, consuming grotesque quantities of spirits, wine and ale in the process. My God it's absolute hell.

with Chippy .....

The BBC went on strike tonight. I remained at home - quite alone - all the same. I even endured 'Match of the Day' featuring Wrexham and Colchester. Then I watched a Vincent Price horror film entitled 'The Amazing Dr Phibes' (1971). Not bad really.

Sue, Pete and Chippy came at 11:30 and they looked thoroughly pissed. Probably because I'm sober. We opened a few bottles. Sue was dancing in the dining room. She and Pete slept in Mum's room and Chippy slept in Lynn's bed. I made a mug of cocoa and listened to the record player.

The Duchess of Gloucester gave birth to a daughter at 2:05pm today. Unlike poor Princess Anne's child (also born at St Mary's Hospital, Paddington) this latest arrival will take a title. She'll be Lady (Christian name) Windsor. I bet Elizabeth is near the top of the list.

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Friday April 15, 1977

Spring morning. Spring afternoon. Spring evening. I have yet to have a Spring night because it's only 7.30pm, but I suppose I will do.

Duchess of Gloucester

It was announced this morning that the Duchess of Gloucester is having a baby in November too. The PA report in the EP stated that the child, if male, would assume his father's second title, Baron Culloden. Balderdash. The barony of Culloden is a courtesy title to be borne by the eldest son of the Duke of Gloucester's eldest son, the Earl of Ulster. The baby will be either Lord or Lady (Christian name) Windsor. It took me about an hour to convince the subs desk that this was so. Evidently it was a Kensington Palace spokesman who announced the crap information. Two Royal babies in Jubilee year eh? I could say the year is going with a bang, but I won't bother.

Work until 5pm and find myself in a traffic jam on Kirkstall Road for thirty minutes. It was too hot and people were dropping like flies on the omnibus. Home at 6. Dad is doing his bit 'giving blood' in Guiseley. A hideous thought which brings to mind the likes of Count Dracula and that ghoulish lot. Surely, if we're given eight or ten pints of the stuff I think it must mean we need every drop for ourselves - selfish maybe but that sort of thing just isn't for me.

Later: yes, it was a Spring night. Went to the Hare with Sue & Peter expecting to get up to our usual activities but instead met up with Dave L and a group of his friends from deepest Gloucester. The four of us go to Woodhouse Moor fair and have a great time.It is revolting that David is no longer resident in these parts. It was just like old times on the waltzer, cyclone, the toffee apples, candy floss. Back to the Hare & Hounds at 10.30. Dave and friends left at 11 and Martyn and I waited for Tony to arrive. With Chris & Pete M the 3 of us go to Oakwood Hall. Not much doing at all. Completely uninteresting and dead. The place is full of unattractive prostitutes - but no, because most of the girls here are quite willing to do it for free. Home by 1.30. Everyone got on my nerves. The trip to Oakwood ruined the whole evening. Christ. Have I mentioned that Peter M is to be Andy Graham's best man? Dave L quipped that he is on the short list to be one of the ushers.

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Tuesday March 29, 1977

No comment on the Budget. Better day than yesterday. No more snow, but still very cold.

J|udith: hates children.

Saw Judith in Guiseley at 5pm and walked her home. We're going to the Hare on Thursday night. I only hope Kathryn won't join us. She's a sweet old thing, but Judith must be sick and tired of her constant presence.

Judith says she hates and despises children and would never want any of her own. Weird. Children, in my opinion, are supreme. The only horrific aspect in having offspring must surely be watching them grow into moronic adults. I certainly feel moronic as I approach my 22nd birthday. My zest for life is ebbing. That vitality gone. I even have lines under my eyes. No grey hair though.

I must write to Dave L in Gloucester. I feel a bit guilty about what happened when we last met. We barely spoke a word to each other all weekend for some obscure reason.

Evening: Wrote to Stuart in 'Gay Paree'. Send him membership of our Silver Jubilee Lechery Club.

Hauxwell: ordinary 

See a programme about one Hannah Hauxwell, a perfectly ordinary Yorkshire woman who everyone is making a tremendous fuss of down in London, Lady Wilson included. Even the Duchess of Gloucester spoke about her.

Sit with Susan who is knitting a pink jumper for Peter. It takes all sorts to make a world, doesn't it?






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Friday October 24, 1975

Busy day at the office. Pictures of the one-year old Earl of Ulster, son of the Duke and Duchess of Gloucester, are in most of the papers. The likeness between the earl and his father is striking indeed, though I wouldn't say he is a particularly good looking child.

On the subject of the peerage I must say something about Chris Monckton. Chris Dawson was in the office today and he tried to get Sarah to 'take him (Monckton) out' - Chris M must really fancy Sarah because Dawson never seems to be able to let it drop. Sarah says she couldn't possibly date a future viscount whilst the Prince of Wales is still unattached! A clever girl is our Sarah, but I think she should settle for Monckton. I believe in the old saying about 'a bird in the hand', &c.

News: General Franco is getting worse, but this time I'll keep my mouth shut on the subject of Juan Carlos and whether he'll be King of Spain tomorrow. Franco could linger for years and years.

Tonight I go down to Carole's and we make our trip across to the Hare & Hounds. Stand with Sue and Pete for most of the night, and are joined by Alison and Martyn. It's a quiet night really and nothing sensational happens (other than Carole of course, who is always sensational). At 11 Carole, Sue, Pete, CD and I go up to Harry Ramsden's for supper. The other three leave for home on foot shortly afterwards while Carole and I play around in the leaves for nearly two hours. The night is warm and we have a great laugh, and more and more I am realising that Carole means a lot to me. I know I've said it all before about other girls, but I am sure that I am in love.

I walk home in the beautiful night air, and on my arrival home sit with Mum, Lynn and Dave until 3.30. We argued about official nicknames and Dave didn't believe me when I said that Harry was often used as a nickname for Henry.

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Wednesday June 4, 1975

The 20th birthday of Mr Ratcliffe. The post brings a letter from him, telling me of his journey down (to Hayes), and certain details about the hotel itself. A letter too from Judith R, and one from good old Dave. Tonight I persuaded John to write to Dave to remind him about the records he borrowed in April & is still in possession of.

This referendum thing ends tomorrow after what seems like months and months of campaigning and useless BBC programmes. Tomorrow night we'll all be able to breathe easily again. I'm still not going to vote, but I hate to think I am making no contribution to such a historic event. One never knows. I might be voting 'YES' by this time tomorrow night.

The Derby was run at Epsom this afternoon. Grundy won. I looked in on one of those midget tvs in the Press Hall. The Duchess of Gloucester paraded herself at the racecourse knee-deep in plaster. HRH broke her leg whilst skiing some weeks ago, but she is carrying out engagements undaunted.

Lynn and Dave sit in the dining room compiling a photo album. I retire at 10pm for a bath.

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Monday October 28, 1974

A beautiful day. Hawksworth Lane is knee deep in crisp, brown leaves, & I sense a nip in the air. Oh, the skies! The skies! How blue they are!

The EP announces that the darling Duchess of Gloucester and child are now satisfactory, and the tiny earl's resparitory difficulties are subsiding. At about 8 John and I accompany Mum and Dad to the Commercial where we stay until closing time. It isn't often that we go out at night with them, but a good time was certainly had by us all. Ron, the landlord, was behind the bar for the first time since his heart attack. He looks ill, but nothing more can really be expected. The doctors have told Annie that he could go at any moment. Back home for salad sandwiches and coffee. Sit talking with Dad as usual until an unearthly hour and eventually come to bed after 12.30. Glance at 'Lord Emsworth and Others' by PG Wodehouse.

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Friday October 25, 1974

King Stephen died 1154. A horribly busy day. Get up after 8 but don't arrive late for work because John's lift to Yeadon helped me get a bus.

The Duchess of Gloucester's baby is a 4lb 4oz boy - or Earl - and he's having breathing difficulties in his incubator. Kensington Palace says the doctors are 'concerned'. A know-all journalist in the Daily Express says that the child will be christened William after his deceased uncle. Who does she think she is? Yesterday, in my anger, I said that the little Earl was 10th in line of succession. In fact he's 9th.

Dave and Lynne M arrived at about 8.15 & we see Morecambe & Wise until after 9. The four of us then go on to Leeds and have one drink in the Highlander before going across the road to Cinderella's. No trouble getting Lynn into the building. You're supposed to be 21 and she's only 16! Drink, pernod, whisky and ale until 2. Truly memorable evening & Lynne wore a white carnation in her buttonhole which looked slightly like we'd been to a wedding reception, but otherwise it was 'fab' (to quote Judith Rushworth). Home at nearly 3 and have chicken soup and toast. Bed feeling unusually tired.

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Thursday October 24, 1974

William Wilson born 1875. United Nations Day. 

My half day. Arrive late at the YP after seeing Sue Crosby on the bus. She's now at art school studying the structure of fungi and broken chimney pots. At about 11.20 somebody tells me that the Duchess of Gloucester has given birth by caesarian section, but they leave me guessing as to its sex. It's either the Earl of Ulster or Lady ___Windsor.

Meet Mum at Moon's Mill at about 1. She informs me that her car key is broken in the lock. After about half an hour chasing around Guiseley Papa arrives in a police car with a spare key on his person. Home at 1.30. Mrs Rawnsley is having difficulty with her lawn mower and Dad goes round there for half an hour to mend it after taking Mama back to Moon's for the afternoon.

2 hours later: I have just realised that all the horrible things people are saying about this country are quite true.It is a sign of our decline towards oncoming communism when the BBC fail to report the birth of a baby in the Royal Family - nay, a baby who is now tenth in line of succession to the Crown of the United Kingdom. The BBC places greater importance on the price of coal.

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Tuesday October 1, 1974

Sick of the YP at the moment, which is far too busy for my liking. Am getting on quite well with the new girl called Eileen (Byram), who is quite a pleasant __, though I found myself working much harder when Mrs Beaumont was sitting at the other side of the table. The Old, or pehaps I should say, Young Witch thought she was Catherine the Great of Russia. Eileen's got far more intellect.

Ring Denny at about 11. We are both having a day off on Oct 4, which should prove amusing. It think I'll taker her the tent back which has been hanging around in one of our out-houses since the Grassington weekend.

Mum is in a rotten mood when I arrive home, and think she doesn't like the idea of working full-time. However, Dad says she had a nasty experience with the bank manager this morning, and this must be a contributing factor to Mama's moody, explosive temper.

If my calculations are correct, the Duchess of Gloucester should have given birth by now. She's not been seen in public since the end of April, and I thought the baby was due at the end of September.

On the subject of gorgeous women, of which the Duchess of Gloucester is one, I'm looking forward to seeing Sarah Jane at Wikis on Friday. Dave B won't let it drop about me taking her off him last week, but I can seriously say she was MINE after about ten minutes of chatting up. Bloody awful boring evening. Help Sue with her homework, then go leap into the bath, purely for the want of something better to do. By the way, saw Judith Rushworth at the bus stop this morning. She's at college after all, and seemed to be in a much better mood than when I last saw her. Dad says that Mrs Rawnsley's been walking around today dressed completely in black, and he suspects a family bereavement.

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Thursday July 11, 1974

Denny and I are going to Ibiza on September 14. Obviously, we aren't sharing a room or anything so permissive, though Auntie Hilda says it would be a lot more inexpensive if we did, and goes on the say: "anyway, you don't often find single rooms in Continental hotels, and even if you do they cost the earth." Anyway, Denny refuses to share a room with me._____. Denny, the darling, says it will only cost £16, excluding spending money. Can't be bad, can it?

Quite busy at the YP. Rains all day, and Judith and I are soaked waiting for the train. At 6 Judith R accompanies me to Guiseley Library where I get 'Queen Mary' by James Pope-Hennessy, which I first read at the age of 13. However, the recent murder of Mr Pope-Hennessy urged me to re-read it. Quite a good book, but I detected several mistakes. For instance, he says that Prince Henry (1900-74) was created Duke of Gloucester in 1935 on his marriage to Lady Alice Montagu-Douglas-Scott. This is untrue. Prince Henry was created a duke on his 28th birthday in March, 1928. Pope-Hennessy was done away with by his Irish-born homosexual partner in January, and by all accounts he was a friend of the Queen, who was grief stricken by her grannie's biographers death.

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Wednesday June 12, 1974

Working at Pinner in Buckinghamshire. Very hot and enjoyable day.

The new Duchess of Gloucester is pregnant and the baby is due in late September or thereabouts. A male child will hold the unfortunate title 'Earl of Ulster', and obvious target for the insane Irish extremists and maniacs. A girl will be Lady (Christian name) Windsor.

Me and John are having Friday free from work in order to catch a passing glimpse of the Royal Funeral.

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Monday June 10, 1974

Wake at 8.15 with Hugo licking my face. Such a sweet dog he is. Have eggs and bacon for breakfast, and set out for north London in pouring rain to do a days work. Spend an hour up to our ankles in deep mud before John calls off the work and we leave for Windsor.

Hear on the 12.30 news that the Duke of Gloucester is to be buried in St George's Chapel later this week - which means that he's either dead or they've decided to dispose of him without waiting for him to go. Every time I come to Windsor a member of the Royal Family dies.

Me and the "Two Johns" go to Beaconsfield, where we tidy a garden up for a couple of hours, having a laugh with a horrible machine which is supposed to collect the mown grass - it nearly kills Uncle John. Back to Windsor at 6 for an evening meal of chicken with Sheila. Chicken. Mum rings at 6.30 and I speak to her for 4 or 5 minutes - they had a good time in Norfolk and I promise to ring them tomorrow. See the 9 o'clock news. The Duke of Gloucester is to be buried in Windsor on Friday - which should, in Uncle John's words - be 'something to write home about'. Also hear that the new duchess is pregnant - though it is as yet unofficial. Go to the Vansittart Arms with Uncle J and J, where the elder J tells us his life story. Back at 10.30. Bed at 11.30.

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Thursday February 21, 1974

A very enjoyable afternoon. At 12 o'clock get the 32 bus to Guiseley, arriving home for lunch at about 1. Please that the weather is mild because Mum, Dad and I intend spending the afternoon ay Yeadon Airport. Leeds receives a double Royal Visit today, Princess Margaret and Princess Richard of Gloucester are carrying out colonial activities at hospitals and theatres throughout the northern capitol. Mum says she's never seen Princess Margaret, and I say that today is a good a chance as any. We go to Otley, the three of us, and then to Yeadon. My heart fell in love with the beautiful, young Danish princess. Young Richard of Gloucester may not look much, but he certainly knew what he was doing when he married that little angel. I was surprised to see her looking so trendy - pleated skirts and large, clompy shoes etc. The driving winds at Yeadon swept across the tarmac, and Princess Richard lost her hat - sweeping it into the arms of a detective. Princess Margaret, being gthe most experienced of the two, held onto her hat while bidding farewell to the assembled dignitaries. Mum was thrilled by the whole thing. Quite a large crowd gathered to see the departure, which ended at approximately 4.35.

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