TWO HUNDRED YEARS ago Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, a relative of Diana, Princess of Wales, wrote that: “The secret springs of events are seldom known. But when they are, they become particularly instructive and entertaining.”

This week, Paul Burrell, the former butler to the Princess of Wales, allowed the public to see the most secret of secret springs surrounding the royals by divulging the contents of letters written by and to his employer. Not since the famous “casket letters” affair of Mary, Queen of Scots, has a batch of correspondence proved so revealing or damaging.

But while Mary’s letters were almost certainly forgeries, Diana’s brother, Earl Spencer, has no such defence. All this time the public assumed the worst about the Duke of Edinburgh and the best about him. Now, we know from the letters that the former was much closer to Diana than his portrayal by the media ever allowed, and that the latter was much more distant and scathing.

The Burrell scandal is a reminder of how prone the royals are to having their innermost thoughts become hostages to fortune. Considering how many times over the centuries they have tried to retrieve embarrassing letters, it is amazing that they continue to write them.

As a silly young prince, George IV wrote some particularly cringe-worthy letters to his mistress, the actress Mrs Robinson, in which he called her “Perdita” and signed himself “Florizel” after the lead characters in a play of the time. In between adolescent fantasies of elopement, he made large financial promises which she subsequently used for blackmail when her funds ran short.

The Prince of Wales’s great-great grandfather, Edward VII, also got himself into great trouble with his epistolary activities, with letters constantly ending up in the wrong hands. His correspondence with Lady Mordaunt appeared in the press — ironically, this was the one relationship which was probably platonic. The public could forgive him his numerous affairs, but not the fact that they were available for perusal over coffee and buns. As Charles himself has discovered, the public loves the sin but hates the sinner.

The truth is, today’s Royal Family seems dysfunctional only because its letters have received the most scrutiny. In fact, the present generation of royals is one of the more normal. The letters of Princess Caroline and George IV, the last royal couple to divorce before Charles and Diana, reveal a spitefulness which far surpasses the unpleasantness of the Windsor marriage. George foisted his mistress, Lady Jersey on to Caroline’s entourage, while she deliberately made friends with his ex-mistresses to taunt him. He routinely described her as “the vilest wretch this world was ever cursed with” and wrote that he shuddered “at the very thought of sitting at the same table as her”.

As for relationships between eldest sons and their parents, although the Duke of Edinburgh makes clear his contempt for Charles, his feelings are a great deal milder than those expressed by the Hanoverians. For various reasons every Hanoverian monarch, from George I to Queen Victoria, conceived a violent dislike towards their heir. In the 1730s Queen Caroline of Ansbach went so far as to complain about Prince Frederick: “My dear first born is the greatest ass, and the greatest liar, and the greatest canaille, and the greatest beast, in the whole world, and I most heartily wish he was out of it.” Some years later her wish was granted since Frederick did die young, after being hit on the head by a cricket ball.

Diana’s ancestors were not much better at parenting. Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough, the matriarch of the Spencers, and founder of the family’s great wealth, fought viciously with her children and their spouses, and later with her grandchildren and their spouses. “Milord,” she wrote in a typical letter to her son-in-law, the Duke of Montagu, “I have received your gracious letter. I am sorry you are a cuckold, my daughter a whore.”

By the end of the 19th century such unvarnished vitriol had gone the way of public hangings, and families were much politer. But a glance through the royal archives reveals the same harsh relationships which seem to have dogged every generation. Queen Victoria’s letters regarding the Prince of Wales almost seethe with animosity. “Bertie is not improved since I last saw him,” she wrote after he was a married man with children. “His ways and manners are very unpleasant. Poor dear Alix! (Princess Alexandra) I feel so for her.” But as for “poor dear Alix”, she willfully ruined the life of her eldest daughter, Vicky.

In publishing the private correspondence, Burrell, has lowered the bar for disloyalty. And yet, we owe him a debt of gratitude. As every biographer will testify: bodies and buildings turn to dust, memories fade, but letters hold the truth forever.

Thanks to Burrell’s squirreling ways, the history of Diana’s life will have to be revised. Moreover, he has uncovered the real worth of the monarchy. In an age of e-mail and telephone, the Windsors still write to each other. For this reason alone, they should be kept on at Buckingham Palace.

Amanda Foreman is the author of Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire

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