Prince Andrew no more

It’s all over for Prince Andrew or, as he is now known, Andrew Mountbatten Windsor. The former Duke of York, ex-trade envoy and, for all we know, Grand Pooh-Bah of Kazakhstan, has been stripped of every one of his titles. Andrew has also been ejected from his Windsor mansion by his brother, the King.

In a terse, angry statement, Buckingham Palace that said that: “His Majesty has today initiated a formal process to remove the style, titles and honors of Prince Andrew. Prince Andrew will now be known as Andrew Mountbatten Windsor. His lease on Royal Lodge has, to date, provided him with legal protection to continue in residence. Formal notice has now been served to surrender the lease and he will move to alternative private accommodation. These censures are deemed necessary, notwithstanding the fact that he continues to deny the allegations against him. Their Majesties wish to make clear that their thoughts and utmost sympathies have been, and will remain with, the victims and survivors of any and all forms of abuse.”

And, with those 109 words – six more than the original statement that sent this rather tarnished Adam out of his garden of Eden, or at least the Royal Lodge that he had been living in, rent-free for decades – Andrew was removed into banishment.

The language of the statement is unprecedented. “Censures” is a word that is particularly damning. So, too, is the statement’s sign off: that the Royals’ ‘thoughts and utmost sympathies’ are with abuse survivors.

No doubt some will still choose to defend Andrew. Seven percent of the public expressed sympathy for Andrew this week, despite the publication of Virginia Giuffre’s memoir. Yes, 93 percent of Brits may have turned their back on Andrew, but it’s still remarkable that anyone is willing to stick up for Andrew.

Perhaps they are entitled to, just as there are those who believe that Elvis is living in platonic bliss somewhere. But the realists will see that Mr. Andrew Windsor, as we can now, finally, call him, has been served the punishment that his arrogant, selfish actions have merited all along.

Andrew can skulk in some ignominious corner of the Sandringham Estate in Norfolk, England for the rest of his days. Few would see that as anything other than a fitting judgment on a man who refused to believe, even when confronted with the most damning of evidence, that he had done anything wrong. Posterity, and his public, will contend otherwise.