The Queen has bestowed one of the highest
honours in Scotland on her daughter, Princess
Anne.
The Princess Royal has been made "Lady of the
Order of the Thistle" in recognition of her work
and close ties with Scotland.
The award, which is traditionally bestowed on
St. Andrew's Day, is made at the Queen's
discretion and does not follow political advice
from the prime minister.
Former governor of Hong Kong, Lord Wilson of
Tillyhorn, has also been made a Knight of the
Thistle.
Royal celebration
Princess Anne is the third woman in modern
times to be given the title, along with the
Queen Mother and Lady Marion Fraser.
At a reception at
Windsor Castle to
celebrate her 50th
birthday, the Princess,
who has just returned
from a working visit to
Bangladesh and Nepal,
told more than 500
guests from her
charities and other
organisations: "I've
been a very lucky lady.
"To be able to be
involved in so many organisations, that the
country can be so proud of, has been a real
privilege."
"I want to say a very important thank you to
my mother and father.
"It's thanks to their example, their advice and
their help that you are here tonight."
The Princess, who last year carried out 683
official engagements in the UK and on tours
abroad, represents 233 organisations.
But she is probably best
known for her charity
work with Save the
Children of which she
has been president
since 1970.
Mike Aaronson, director
general of Save the
Children, presented a birthday gift of two
paintings of Scottish landscapes from her many
organisations throughout the UK and overseas.
He paid tribute to the princess's "legendary
hard work" and "obvious commitment" to the
children's charity.
"In her readiness to think laterally and to
question conventional wisdom - often through
vigorous debate - she has always displayed
great courage and intellectual integrity," he
said.
It was an "extraordinary achievement" to
exercise "inspirational leadership" for such a
wide range of organisations, Mr Aaronson
added.
~*~
Jewel in the Crown (UK Times)
There was once a princess, as wise as she was good, who grew
up in a palace with flunkies and footmen and gentlemen of the
press whom she told to “Naff orf”. She preferred falling off horses
to being a clotheshorse, and strode about the globe getting her
hands dirty rather than dishing out cures for scrofula. She had her
mother’s warmth and her father’s tact, but still the people loved
her.
They didn’t always. As she belatedly celebrates her half-century
on a wave of hagiography, the Princess Royal can look back on
her days as Princess Petulant with a wry smile. An angelic-looking
child, Princess Anne grew up into an opinionated young woman
who upset just about everybody. Crowds heckled her, Labour
MPs attacked her, and an Italian magazine judged her one of the
most boring people in the world. Foreigners gawped at her rebuffs
and the only poll she came top of was the worst-dressed list. By
the time the House of Windsor got itself some crowd-pleasing
Princesses the public appeared to have turned its back on her for
ever.
Some petulance would have been understandable. Instead Anne
threw herself into her causes and in doing so her reputation has
outshone them all in an ultimate victory of substance over style.
Royalty in the form of the Princess Royal is glamour-lite and not
much photographed, the axiom being to work like a dog but make
no great song and dance about it. Anne represents 233
organisations. Last year she performed almost 700 official
engagements — enough flesh-pressing to scotch any accusations
of being standoffish. Small wonder she is irritated to be seen as a
charitable second fiddle to her late sister-in-law. If anyone has put
their stamp on the monarchy’s philanthropic role it has been Anne.
Her popularity may have been transformed, but Anne hasn’t
changed a bit. Photographers still don’t get to call her love, she
won’t pose with sick children and still turns her nose up at the
touchy-feely stuff. Well might she be rewarded with a thistle and
the maxim “Nemo me impune lacessit”.
These days few little girls grow up wanting to be princesses —
they get such a rough ride. Regardless of feminism, we still want
them fairytale style — beautiful, virtuous and vacant — and then
balk at the monsters we created. It has been, then, in spite of her
mother’s subjects that one Princess dug in her heels, clung to her
saddle, and gave us what we didn’t know we wanted. Princess
Anne sorted the sheep from the goats and decided she wasn’t a
sheep. The nation is rather happy with the goat it ended up with.