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It’s pretty clear that Earl Spencer wants to do as much damage to the king as he humanly can - this is a verbal homicide, writes Andrew Marr

The days after the death of Diana, Princess of Wales in 1997 were the oddest of my forty-plus years as a journalist.

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The days after the death of Diana, Princess of Wales in 1997 were the oddest of my forty-plus years as a journalist, writes LBC's Andrew Marr
The days after the death of Diana, Princess of Wales in 1997 were the oddest of my forty-plus years as a journalist, writes LBC's Andrew Marr. Picture: Global
Andrew Marr

By Andrew Marr

Good evening. Be kind, be a little tolerant to me tonight because I’m going to start with personal reminiscence.

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The days after the death of Diana, Princess of Wales in 1997 were the oddest of my forty-plus years as a journalist.

I was editing a newspaper and the whole country, or at least the heart of London, seemed to have gone nuts.

Amidst the sobbing, and giant pyramids of dead flowers, and the huge queues to sign books of condolence, hardheaded reporters came back telling me of Diana appearing as a vision in paintings in St James’s Palace.

So, a collective hallucination, I asked? No, they said she’s really appearing.

Later, attending her funeral service at Westminster Abbey, I found myself waiting to go in.

In front of me were two men encased in leather boots, with chains and flamboyant tunics - members of the household cavalry.

Just behind me, two other men encased in lots of leather, with chains and studs... who were not members of the household cavalry.

And I thought, this has never happened in British history before.

Inside the Abbey we sat and listened to Earl Spencer’s passionate speech about his dead sister, with its not-very-coded criticism of the royal family.

And a strange sound came into the nave.

It was applause, from out in the streets.

Now, these strange days have been summoned back by Earl Spencer‘s new book in which he claims that after an argument with Prince Charles, now the King, he hissed at him down the phone, “ Rest assured, we’ll forget her soon enough.”

He accuses the king of going nuts and showing contempt for her memory.

Unusually, Buckingham Palace responded, saying that “his majesty is mindful that the pain of fraternal grief can cloud reason, affect judgement and colour memory in ways others do not recognise, even many years after such a loss.”

Or, to put it more briefly, right back at you.

Does any of it matter?

From the latest extracts from the book, claiming that Charles sounded giddily elated like a lottery winner on the night of Diana‘s death, it’s pretty clear that Earl Spencer wants to do as much damage to the king as he humanly can.

This is a verbal homicide.

But the words may just bounce off. Support for the monarchy before Diana‘s death was running at about 65% and is now around 54%, a decline but not a dramatic one.

Most people will see this as a sad row between two men who were bitterly hurt at the time.

But I think something changed around then in the national mood, which does matter.

Partly thanks to the way Diana had to behave herself, it was the death as well of the buttoned-up, stoical, never-complain atmosphere of post-war Britain, and the birth of a country keener to be in touch with its feelings, readier to cry in public, more judgemental of those not join, perhaps a bit more feminised...

Andrew Marr is an author, journalist and presenter for LBC.

LBC Opinion provides a platform for diverse opinions on current affairs and matters of public interest.

The views expressed are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the official LBC position.

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