The courtiers who keep these gilded wheels turning reflect the system they serve. They are the only branch of government service in Britain appointed, not by competitive examination, but on personal whim, and its members tend to be of a type – stolid, reliable, upper class, brought up in the public-school ethos of team spirit, of ‘playing the game’ and letting convention do the thinking for them. It is an antiquated, undemocratic organisation based on patronage, and overall it works reasonably well. But it is heavily reliant on precedent and therefore makes no allowance for the unforeseen and the unexpected. That flaw – and it soon proved to be a disastrous one – was ruthlessly exposed by Diana’s death. Before first light on that Sunday morning, the wheels of royal state were starting to rattle loose.

From the mid-eighties onwards, the royal family had been divided into two separate and sometimes antagonistic bureaucratic camps. While the Queen continued to rely on courtiers of the old school, Prince Charles surrounded himself with younger, less hidebound but also less experienced advisers. Given their divergent views as to what the style and role of the monarchy should be, and with each side working to its own set of priorities, conflict was frequent. In the turmoil following Diana’s death, it was inevitable.

Despite or maybe because of her agitation, it had to be business as usual, the Queen decreed, and she asked that everyone should go to church at nearby Crathie that morning. The only people exempted from that royal command were Princes William and Harry. Given the enormity of what had happened, the Queen felt that it was up to them to decide whether they wanted to attend morning service – and face the inevitable battalions of press photographers converging on Balmoral. After a brief discussion between themselves, both boys said they would go.

It was a sorrow-torn period for Diana’s sons. Yet it was noted by the staff that William and Harry showed remarkable resilience in the face of the tragedy. Both boys behaved very much as Diana might have predicted. Harry, always matter of fact, appeared to take the loss in his young stride, while William, on the verge of manhood and very much aware of his royal destiny, made the demanding effort of keeping his emotions to himself.