It’s not fair that my great-grandfather’s story was sexed up. So here’s the truth

ITV’S new drama looks like an enjoyable romp, full of the glamour of Egypt in the early 1900s. But I have considerable reservations about it being a fair portrait of my great-grandfather. He is shown as a naive but charming gentleman explorer who was totally out of his depth without Howard Carter. But while it was true that he was an eccentric and maverick adventurer, he was also a scholarly investigator of ancient Egypt who made significant discoveries before he met Carter. In the drama he is shown asking Carter: ‘How do you find a tomb?’ as if he had no idea of the immense time and difficulty involved. He is also introduced to ‘scientific methods’ as if this were some strange idea. In fact, he was a skilled photographer and we have some amazing albums of his work here at Highclere Castle, in Berkshire, the family home.

As for claims of an affair between Carter and my great-aunt Lady Evelyn Herbert, there was no romance. It just didn’t happen that way. Carter was so absorbed in his work, he was something of a stoical loner.

My grandfather, despite being a great raconteur, didn’t really tell me stories about his father’s quest in the Valley of the Kings.

He thought the 5th Earl’s death had something to do with the Curse of Tutankhamun, but his reticence was more about the emotional impact it had on him as a young man.

So, in common with millions of other people, my first real insight into the work of Carnarvon and Carter came with the arrival of Tutankhamun’s treasures at the British Museum in 1972. In fact, I went to the exhibition twice – first trailing behind my parents, my grandfather and my great aunt, and then queuing with other schoolboys keen to see the treasures of Tutankhamun.

On that first visit, I can still recall Aunt Evelyn staring at the iconic golden mask.

I was too young to realise just what an incredibly poignant moment this was for her. It was the first time she had set eyes on the mask as Carter didn’t bring it out of the tomb for some time after the death of her father.

Another pivotal moment came in 1987, shortly after my grandfather had died. Together with my father and Robert Taylor, my grandfather’s long-serving butler, we were carrying out an inventory of Highclere. Robert suddenly turned to my father and said: ‘What about all the Egyptian stuff, my lord?’ My father replied: ‘There is no Egyptian stuff. It’s in New York or the Cairo Museum.’

But unbeknownst to my father, my grandfather had stored small items of jewellery, tools and small wooden boxes, some from the time of Queen Hatshepsut, in the cupboards between the drawing room and smoking room. They were wrapped in cotton wool and stored in tobacco tins.

From that moment I couldn’t help being hooked, and I have been absorbed in the story ever since.

Carnarvon found in Carter another maverick and eccentric from a totally different background, and they got on very well. My great-grandfather knew how to bring people together and make peace in sometimes troubled local politics.

Between the technical expertise of Carter and the diplomatic and organisational expertise of my great-grandfather, they were rather a formidable team.