The New Boy

Until last week, if asked for information about the Hill House School of London, only a handful of Britons would have been able to reply with anything more than a blank stare. Young (five years), small (102 boys), and inexpensive ($280), the school, in middle-class Chelsea, caters to the sons of professional and business men, with not a noble lord among them. But one day last week a black Ford pulled up to the door, and out jumped a chubby-cheeked new boy of eight. For England, this was big news indeed: His Royal Highness Prince Charles Philip Arthur George, Duke of Cornwall, Duke of Rothesay, Earl of Carrick, and Baron of Renfrew, Lord of the Isles and Prince and Great Steward of Scotland, was going to elementary school--the first heir apparent to the throne to do so in the history of the kingdom.

A Crude Reminder. Though outsiders would probably never know how much soul-searching the Prince's parents had gone through, their decision was certainly a break in a firm family tradition. Queen Victoria was pleased to leave the education of the future Edward VII in the stern hands of Prince Albert. Since Victoria was still the sovereign when her grandchildren were growing up, and was still afraid of having them mix with other children ("The mischief done by bad boys and the things they may hear and learn from them cannot be overrated"), the future George V was also kept in virtual isolation. It was not until they were 13 that Edward VIII and George VI were sent to the Royal Naval College at Osborne. There Edward Windsor got his first taste of what a boy's world is like when some senior-termers poured red ink over his head, once banged a window down on his neck in "a crude reminder of the sad fate of Charles I."

For a while, it seemed as if the education of Prince Charles might follow the same pattern. In the schoolroom at Buckingham Palace, Governess Katherine Peebles taught him his three R's, gave him his first lessons in French, history, geography and the Bible. But the Duke of Edinburgh was determined that his son must "learn to mix with other kids." Partly because of its obscurity, the Hill House School was the one he and the Queen chose.

Clean That Plate. Charles's workday now begins at 9:15 after he hangs up his coat and hat on a peg newly labeled "Prince Charles." At the double desk he shares with a London doctor's son, he studies reading, writing, arithmetic, history, geography and science, will soon add Latin and elementary anatomy. At 11 a.m. he gets half a pint of free milk that is provided by the government, later pays 35-c- for a hot lunch. Though addressed as Prince Charles, he must obey all the rules, keep silent during the meal, and clean his plate. "We never keep a pig bin," says one of his teachers. "The boys have to eat every scrap put in front of them."

As might have been expected, the press ignored the palace plea to respect Charles's privacy. To get rid of the mob on the second day, Headmaster H. S. Townsend had to announce that the famous New Boy would not show up. But cameramen had already given the delighted nation a glimpse of the future King of England scuffling about the playing field just like any other boy his age. It was, exulted the London Daily Mail, further evidence "of the growing democratization (horrid, inescapable word!) of the throne."

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