Windsor, and the book came out two days later, on the first day of Royal Ascot. That Tuesday afternoon Charles and Diana met with his parents at the castle. It was an emotional encounter, according to Diana, who spoke about it with her butler, Paul Burrell, as well as Morton’s collaborator, James Colthurst. The possibility of separation and divorce was discussed, but according to Burrell’s account, the Queen and Philip told the couple that they should stay together and “learn to compromise, be less selfish, and try to work through their difficulties for the sake of the monarchy, their children, the country and its people.”
Charles and his mother said little during the meeting, while Diana tearfully unloaded on her husband and Camilla, and Philip vented the family’s distress about the Morton book. For the first time since the Morton crisis began, Diana lied directly to her in-laws and her husband, reiterating that she had not helped the author. “Mama despaired as she listened to me,” Diana told Burrell. “All I seemed to be doing was relaying to her my anguish.”
With the lines of communication now open, the Queen asked Diana and Charles to return for a second meeting the following day. Not only did Diana refuse to come, she packed up and left Windsor Castle, prompting Philip to write her a two-page letter expressing his disappointment while offering some suggestions for dealing with her troubled marriage. It was the first of five thoughtful letters he wrote from June through September “in a friendly attempt to resolve a number of family issues,” each followed by a lengthy reply from Diana.
Acting in his role as head of the family, Philip tried to persuade his daughter-in-law to recognize her own faults as well as those of her husband, even as he praised her for the good work she had done. To promote compromise, he emphasized what she and Charles had in common, and he cited his own experience in giving up his independent career when his wife became Queen. In an effort to provide perspective, he wrote that being the wife of the heir to the throne “involved much more than simply being a hero with the British people.”
Although Diana described her father-in-law’s words as “stinging,” “wounding,” and “irate,” Philip’s private secretary, Brigadier Sir Miles Hunt-Davis, said later in sworn testimony that there was “not a single derogatory term within the correspondence.” Diana’s replies began “dearest Pa” and ended with “fondest love.” She told him she was “particularly touched” by his guidance, thanked him for being “heartfelt and honest,” and expressed admiration “for the marvelous way in which you have tried to come to terms with this intensely difficult family problem.” When Philip wrote that he was eager to “do my utmost to help you and Charles to the best of my ability” while conceding “I have no talents as a marriage counselor!!!” she responded, “You are very modest about your marriage guidance skills and I disagree with you! This last letter of yours showed great understanding and tact.” Implicit in Philip’s entreaties was the Queen’s support, which Diana acknowledged at one point by sending “much love to you both.”
In the end, Philip’s advice failed to move her, according to a friend who saw the letters, because “he never touched Diana’s heart. He couldn’t, because he argued in terms of duty and not love.”
The entire royal family had swung over to Charles’s side now that they understood the full scale of Diana’s treachery. Before the Morton book, Charles had been unable to talk to his parents about his troubles. “I think it took a long time to accept that the faults were not more his than hers,” said Patricia Brabourne. “The Queen could see through Diana’s manipulation, but in personal situations it was difficult to really know the truth. There were two sides to the story and you had to work out how to put them together.” Charles welcomed his parents’ newfound sympathy; Philip even sent his son a long letter referring to his “saint-like fortitude.”
Andrew, who among the siblings had been closest to Diana, moved into his older brother’s corner, along with Anne, whose relationship with Diana had always been cool, and Edward, who had kept his sister-in-law at arm’s length. The one family member with whom Diana had enjoyed the greatest kinship was Princess Margaret, who shared her love of ballet and quick sense of humor. Margaret had shown compassion for Diana’s vulnerability, and Diana could relate to the sadness of Margaret’s star-crossed love life. But Margaret viewed the Morton book as an attack on her sister, and never had another kind word for Diana.
The Queen confided her unhappiness to members of her close circle while trying “to keep a calm view,” said one of her relatives. Over dinner with John and Patricia Brabourne, she said, “Can you imagine having two daughters-in-law like this?” “It was nonplussing,” Patricia Brabourne recalled. “You don’t know how to behave when someone is making such a mess. You want to help them mend, but how to do it?”
George Carey, who by then had been Archbishop of Canterbury for over a year, gathered intelligence from two ladies-in-waiting, Susan Hussey and Richenda Elton, the wife of the 2nd Baron Elton. “If I wanted help in understanding I would talk to them,” he said. “I would never worry about the Queen’s mood, which was constant. I would say to them, ‘What is on her mind?’ and they would tell me directly.”
The archbishop conveyed to Elizabeth II his sense that the estrangement between Charles and Diana was too deep for anyone to make a difference. “The personalities were so different,” said Carey. “The Queen understood that. She could offer support and put them into her prayers.” She was also concerned about the possibility of Charles marrying Camilla. “There was a moment when we were talking very candidly about divorce,” said Carey. “I remember her sighing and saying, ‘History is repeating itself.’ I saw despair. What she was talking about was the Duke and Duchess of Windsor. She thought Charles was in danger of throwing everything out the window by rejecting Diana and forging another relationship. It was a very worrying moment, and my role was to reassure her.”
The Queen was fortunate to have a prime minister with a placid temperament in those tense times. John Major relied on her as a dispassionate and confidential sounding board, and she leaned on him equally to work through complicated family matters. Their Tuesday audiences “became almost mutual support sessions,” wrote royal biographer William Shawcross. “Major knew that the scandals were devastating for her.” Years later Major said, “People don’t realize quite how strong she is. I think the way she behaved in those years has saved the monarchy from far worse problems that otherwise they might have faced.”
In July, the prime minister contacted George Carey to say that the couple would likely separate in the autumn and divorce was now a distinct possibility. The prime minister asked the archbishop to participate in “some preparatory work on constitutional matters” along with Lord Mackay of Clashfern, the Lord Chancellor; cabinet secretary Robin Butler; and Foreign Secretary Douglas Hurd. Carey also met separately with Diana and Charles. “It was my pastoral duty to assist them to conclude their marriage with grace and understanding,” he wrote. In the process, he came to see “with some sorrow that Charles was more sinned against than sinning. There was a streak in Diana’s psychological make-up that would not allow her to give in.”
THE ANNUAL BALMORAL holiday brought no escape from the family turmoil, this time created by Fergie, who was there at Andrew’s invitation. On Thursday, August 20, the
At breakfast that morning, the royal family, their houseguests, and courtiers were confronted with the humiliating display. “It would be accurate to report that the porridge was getting cold,” Fergie wrote in her memoir. “Eyes wide and mouths ajar, the adults were flipping through the
Philip never forgave Fergie for dishonoring the family. “I don’t see her because I don’t see much point,” he told author Gyles Brandreth. But the Queen, in her typically tolerant fashion, remained on good terms. During the Christmas holidays at Sandringham, she even arranged for Fergie to stay at nearby Wood Farm so her daughters could join her after celebrating with the rest of the family. “The Queen had an affection for her daughter-in-law, who often got things wrong,” said one of her senior advisers. “In a sense, though, Fergie was disarmingly guileless and you could see what she was doing up to a mile away.” Diana was another matter—secretive and scheming— and so was more difficult to forgive.
Four days after the
