THE CROWN verses PAUL BURRELL................and the CROWN BOTTLES IT !!

R v Burrell: the best free show in town

Eye witness: At the trial of Diana's butler

By Cole Moreton
Sunday, 27 October 2002
INDEPENDENT online

The wheels of justice grind slowly indeed. If indeed they grind at all. It is hard to tell, when you have been cleared out of the courtroom yet again, along with the jury and the people in the public gallery, so the wigs can discuss matters too sensitive for ordinary ears. There has been a great deal of such coyness in the case of Regina v Paul Burrell, not least because the trial of the former butler to the Princess of Wales inevitably involves that most private of publicly funded families, the Windsors. It is happening again, as Court One of the Old Bailey is emptied on Friday morning for a discussion about a subject I'm not allowed to tell you about.

The wheels of justice grind slowly indeed. If indeed they grind at all. It is hard to tell, when you have been cleared out of the courtroom yet again, along with the jury and the people in the public gallery, so the wigs can discuss matters too sensitive for ordinary ears. There has been a great deal of such coyness in the case of Regina v Paul Burrell, not least because the trial of the former butler to the Princess of Wales inevitably involves that most private of publicly funded families, the Windsors. It is happening again, as Court One of the Old Bailey is emptied on Friday morning for a discussion about a subject I'm not allowed to tell you about.

They say the Central Criminal Court offers some of the best free theatre in London, and what could be more promising than the Upstairs, Downstairs saga of a servant who became "the closest male confidant" of the Queen of Hearts? Particularly when he is accused of making off with some of her most intimate possessions, and alleges in return that he kept six hats and a Versace ballgown to resist "a conspiracy to change the course of history". Sadly, listening to a lawyer read a list of articles identified by Lady Jane Fellowes is hardly Pinter, let alone Shakespeare – so it actually comes as some relief to be released into the green-and-white marbled hall.

This grandest of settings would make even the most guilt-free among us feel intimidated by the weight of Establishment. Paintings on the domed ceiling represent Art, Truth, Labour and Learning, and the walls are adorned with ringing phrases like "The Law of the Wise is a Fountain of Life". Whatever that means. It doesn't matter. All you need to know is that somebody important knows the meaning – probably one of the grim-faced ushers in black cloaks, or a barrister with fake horse hair on his head. Just do as you're told and stand up straight when the judge is looking at you.

Mrs Justice Rafferty looks shockingly young to anyone raised on the fossils who faced Rumpole, Kavanagh, and Carman; but she shoots her enormous ermine cuffs with style and can silence the gallery with a fierce look. "Don't embarrass yourself, Lord Carlile," she warns the defence counsel when he displeases her. Ever fair, she interrupts a dithering question by William Boyce QC, prosecuting, and finishes it for him. When there are titters in court she assures him: "The laugh was at me, not you." Wisely, he demurs. "M'Ladyship, that makes a pleasant change."

Paul Burrell retains the measured movements of a man who has carried trays in Buckingham Palace. Rooms full of very old wood and polished leather must not intimidate him, but he closes the door of the large dock with a sigh. In a dark suit and a yellow shirt he could be one of Tom Hanks's fleshier roles. Mr Burrell is charged with the theft of correspondence, pictures, ornaments, clothes and other items from the estate of Princess Diana, as well as 22 items from Prince William and four from Prince Charles.

The young princes are not in court, and yet they could be said to dominate proceedings since Mrs Justice Rafferty took the decision to keep some evidence out of the public domain in order to protect them. This includes passages from a statement by Mr Burrell, crucial to his defence, in which he tries to demonstrate his closeness to Princess Diana. His lawyers say she would have let him take the items or given them to him had she been alive. He says he was keeping her things from falling into into the wrong hands.

The prosecution says Burrell was not as close to the Princess as he maintains, and felt insecure about his future employment.

You may remember that the original trial was stopped after three days and the jury dismissed for what the judge would only say were "legal reasons". Soon after it began again there arose a sensitive matter, the contents of a box in which the Princess kept her dearest possessions. Lady Sarah McCorquodale, Diana's sister, had asked Scotland Yard to find the box, and suggested they might try Mr Burrell's house, which was why four detectives spent 12 hours searching the place last January. They discovered 310 other items, but not the box.

Asked to describe its contents in court, Detective Sergeant Roger Milburn found one particular item of jewellery so sensitive that he could not bear to mention it aloud. So a piece of paper was passed to the judge, who went away for the weekend to think about whether the nation's palate was sufficiently strong to endure such a revelation, and whether Princes William and Harry would be hurt by its disclosure.

Whatever could it be, we were left to wonder. Diamonds engraved with state secrets, said the conspiracists. A more intimate item such as a bejewelled, ahem, massager, said the salacious. But no. When the judge returned to court last Monday it was identified as nothing more threatening or blush-inducing than a gold signet ring belonging to Major James Hewitt. What a relief. What a disappointment. What a fuss.

There is plenty of time to reflect on the progress of the trial as we wait in the canteen for proceedings to begin again. After taciturn appearances by Lade Jane Fellowes and PC Kevin Ward, the judge has adjourned early so she can go to another court and "sentence a child for manslaughter". None of the 17 people in the public gallery will return after lunch. "Wish I'd seen Hoogstraten instead," says one man, a retired teacher who likes to visit the Bailey to study the way the law works. The notorious landlord of that name has just been sent down for 10 years, for manslaughter.

Later, as jurors stifle post-lunch yawns, there is drama. Michael Gibbins, the former financial comptroller and head of Diana's household, describes her as a volatile, unpredictable employer who believed she was being spied on. She guarded her possessions closely, he says. After her death Mr Burrell was "devastated and in a state of despair".

Did he think the butler might take his own life, asks Lord Carlile? "That was a concern I had."

Afterwards Mr Gibbins steps through an electronic security cubicle into a blustery evening, and a pack of photographers waiting for his exit. One walks backwards, right in front of him, a few feet from his face, snapping and flashing away without a word as Mr Gibbins's feet stumble. He keeps upright, just, and makes it to the corner of the Old Bailey. Dwarfed by the architecture, he looks like someone caught up in a scene too grand and strange to understand fully. What chance the rest of us?