Friday, 29 April 2011

Royal Wedding II

My contemporaneous account:

It all starts at 6 am here and I am up in time to hear the fatuous and vicariously nervous whittering of various commentators. The clothes are all uniforms or straight down the line quiet morning dress and all seems in order. If the British still do anything better than everyone else it is ceremonial. The most striking thing so far is how much more graceful is the RR Phantom that Kate is in compared with Her Maj's modern Bentley but how nice that these vehicles do not have registration plates... I guess horses and carriages were ruled out for security reasons, even though they would have brought out the Cinderella-like quality of the events unfolding.

And I now wish that I'd put money on the conferring of the titles Duke and Duchess of Cambridge.

It is difficult not to be moved by events like this just because they are so well accomplished; I always say that, amongst the British armed and civil services, the College of Arms and the courtiers, there is at least one world class expert on every subject under the sun, from nuclear fission to a lion couchant.

A British congregation (whatever they believe) can still give voice for a ripping hymn such as 'Bread of Heaven'.

Service well accomplished and first lesson very well read by Kate's brother.

Followed by some rather dull, modern anthem sung by the choir.

The Bishop of London (another bearded priest) gives a lumbering, trite, dumbed-down address. The Church of England might be able to swell its congregations again, if they only abolished sermons and priestly addresses. Having said that, London was mercifully short. This is followed by an other dirge from the choir. They ought to ban those too. What a din.


For all the media build-up, it is all very quick and simple.

Just noticed that plonker David Beckham with his decoration (OBE?) stuck on his right lapel(!) What a divot. His 'fragrant' wife is also there in platform soles, scowling as usual but the Blairs are not; presumably, our Cherry put 'er foot down and said that wild 'orses wouldn't drag 'er family anywhere near the place. Garden Broom has also been left in the garden shed. I suppose that, if you happen to make a massive mess of the economy, you can expect to be ignored as the least punishment on offer.

'Jerusalem', predictably. But why not?

Lots of flag waving outside.

More prayers from the Dean of the Abbey. Keep it short, son. Ah it's all but over. Now for a fanfare and the National Anthem and signing the register (another dirge) and then the bells; the bells. Didn't notice any bells. Very odd.

A shot of Kenneth Clarke and I wonder whether he found a pair of black suede shoes for the occasion.

RAF fanfare and then 'Crown Imperial' by Walton.

There is an open carriage and four, after all, setting off in the midst of legion security men.

As I have already said today, for all that I said on this blog a few days ago, it would be impossible not to admire the way in which Kate has carried it off: with confidence but also with restraint, in every respect and, maybe this will give the monarchy a second wind for the twenty first century. If so, we'll be saved from the mortification of having a bumbling prol as head of state and remain, in this respect, the envy of the world.

Back to the Palace for the balcony scene? Into the Mall and safely back into the Palace.

Far too much commentators' whittering throughout and then that obnoxious Piers Morgan; didn't he resign as Mirror editor under a cloud? Who wants to listen to him?

Prince Philip is incredibly spry for a ninety year old. Masses of people all around the Palace, of course.

A bunch of New Zealanders seem very excited.

The only slight blight has been seeing fatuous twits such as the Beckhams and Elton John - I mean, what the hell are they doing there? Beckham, as well as wearing his decoration on the wrong side and in the wrong place, is carrying some kind of Toy Town topper and wearing a wing collar!!

A long wait for the 'balcony scene'. Too many fashionistas and fashionistos in evidence and showing off in the meantime. Still far too much whittering just to fill the time.

They have wheeled out Angela Rippon to commentate. She never seems to age.

They are now out on the balcony and there is speculation about length of the kiss!! In fact, it was a shy, blushing, little peck, repeated once. The commentators called this 'sweet'.

RAF fly past.

All over.

Very well done indeed.

Three cheers.


  1. A very good summary indeed. My daughters, ages 9, 8 and 7 started watching before dawn and have been swanning around playing princesses ever since. I reckon my hopes for elopements have been dashed!!

    NJS, I enjoyed both books and will order more copies for friends at Christmas. Indeed your books and your blog postings here and on LL and FNB are great resources and have shown me new pleasures in London.

    Keep-up the good work!!