You are also, at every stage, reminded of the privilege it is. You must pass through several layers of security, dress appropriately and use only “non-propelling” pencils. Disconcertingly, visitors must expect to be escorted to the bathroom and searched before departure (to prevent the theft of precious documents).
It's rarefied, elevated, lofty. And extremely frustrating.
Established by King George V in 1914, the archives are a private collection, with no public right to access. Their records are exempt from freedom of information laws and the rules covering Britain's National Archives that have traditionally allowed for the release of most government documents after 30 years.
Even for highly qualified scholars, it is difficult to gain entry to the Royal Archives, which cover two and a half centuries and hold roughly two million documents. An unspecified number of boxes and files are off limits for no stated reason, and there is no public catalog. And the process by which the keepers decide who may enter is mysterious and opaque. Researchers are left with the uncomfortable feeling that there may be material withheld, and that their quest for historical accuracy and completeness could be thwarted.
It is hard not to conclude that the gatekeepers regard their role, in part, as guarding the reputation of the British monarchy. Even today, nearly two decades after the death of Diana, Princess of Wales, it is deemed too risky to let slip the mask of monarchy and reveal that, as for us mortals, life can be a messy business involving illness, infidelity, complicated marriages, mistakes and prejudices.
Such discretion about the private lives of living members of the royal family is understandable, but why must those of monarchs long dead remain shaded and secret?
My own requests to study in the Round Tower were repeatedly rebuffed - despite my credentials as a writer working on a forthcoming biography of Queen Victoria and a clear commitment to good scholarship. After several attempts and many months, my request was rejected - on the grounds that I had not written a biography or royal history before.
It was not until Quentin Bryce, a former governor general (Queen Elizabeth II's representative in Australia), pressed my cause that I was finally admitted. Having first been crushed, I was jubilant - but what of the many other worthy historians who happened not to have an influential supporter?
The secrecy and selectivity of the Royal Archives are well known among academics and historians, many of whom have encountered delay and censorship by the archives custodians. Attempts to control what is published have often led to protracted disputes.
While the success of recent TV dramas like “The Crown” and “Victoria” proves the enduring popular appeal of fictional accounts of the British royal family, historians are still fighting subterranean battles to tell the uncensored truth. And the censors can be capricious.
“On one occasion something was taken out of my Queen Mother book,” says the biographer Hugo Vickers - only for the information to appear later in someone else's book. “That made me cross.”
