THE WEDDING SCENE

Auckland Star, Volume LXVIII, Issue 154, 1 July 1937, Page 15

THE WEDDING SCENE

"INTENSE BALLYHOO."

TRAGEDY PLAYED AS FARCE.

ENGLISH PRESSMAN'S

IMPRESSIONS.

(By VISCOUNT CASTLEROSSE, Director of London "Daily Express.")

TOURS (France), June 3.

After a somewhat turbulent ; time with the telephone at Tours, I arrived a at the l'Univers. There were many t journalists- there. arid Randolph Chur- J chill (son of Winston Churchill) in a frock coat. It was a grand garment, 1 fully as 'fine "as. "the raiment of an 1 American- mortician. He probably inherited it from his grandfather, the late j lamented Lord Randolph. One glance at i Churchill ma'de me realise that this was indeed going to be a day, a fine day, like they have in America. Indeed, as I looked around Tours, it became hourly - more Transatlantic. There were representatives of three American news agencies present at the wedding, oifte French and one British. No sooner had Churchill departed from the dining room than an American lady, no doubt attracted by my sombre attire, •nd possibly misled by a in-•. former, approached me and said, "Are you the Rev. Mr. • Jardine ?" "Of course, madam," I if.soon found-'myself describing the. ceremony as I, in my new role, propoßeuto conduct it. Unfortunately/ I nowhere reachedthe."final-scene when -1 was whiskfei away. • On Tny way out Isaw Eugene de Rothschild, who, till fairly recently, had been the Duke of Windsor's host in Austria. He seemed out of place; he was serious. Publicity Merchants. Our chauffeur, who motored us to the chateau, unfortunately was only able to talk satisfactorily with the aid of both hands. Somebody, niost carelessly) brought up the subject of gendarmes as We were travelling some ,CO miles an hour. I implored -the chauffeur to continue in silencej'for I liftd no difficulty in visualising Randolph Churchill once •gain dressed ftjuthat frock, coat walk- , >ng slowly behiiid the box- which contained the mortal remains Of one Castlerosse. • • •

The Chateau de Cande looks like every other chateau; at least I suppose it does. Anyway, the gates look like other gates •nd the names of the journalists are on the gates. There is certainly no shortage of newspaper men of every nationality. It may be the tone of this artic.e is slightly flippant, but the whole atmosphere is one of intense ballyhoo. Cornelius Vanderbilt i» . here,- and this •cion of the famous family'has got a trailer fitted with every sort qi gadget. Apparently .he. call telephone, to America from this conveyances • " " -

At this very moment of writing, the Mayor is intoning the civil ceremony; but here, outside the gate, the atmosphere is j e scarcely polite. One of the great trage,dies of the world is being played as a tc [farce. The concierge, a saintly-looking jold lady, had just added solemnity to the occasion by breaking a bottle of chamIpagrie, thereby denoting that the religious ceremony really has started. At 11.32 m a.m. the civil service was finished. a . Priest or Bishops? oThe gates, which had been nominally opened, were closed, and Mr. Jardine p Jbegan the religious service. I wonder h, whether the heavenly beings will respond tl to the praver of the poor priest or whe- ei ther they will listen to the fulminations \ of'the initred bishops? There was, of d course, another king called David who o also was a trifle unconventional in his I marriage affairs, but I understand he is i quite well thought of in episcopal circles. J> The rumour now went around that the li principals and their chosen guests would have luncheon after the conjugal knot had been tied. Now, when I was a child, my nurse, Mrs. Tuck, advised me v to "eat 'hearty at births, weddings and r funerals, because one never knows what j. may not happen." c As the gates of the Chateau de Oande ( were barred to our admission, our ges- 1 ticulating chauffeur was commandeered i and drove us back to Tours, where, by 1 good fortune, <we met P. J. Philip, P correspondent of the "'New York Times, i who, X discovered, is a Scotsman. 1 < . have no doubt that when I reach the • gates of heaven the slight lisp which i might be expected of me will have given , -way to a Scottish burr. Keating, son ' 9 f an old Irish M.P.. introduced hunself !t and we fell to talking of Cahirciveen * the coast of Kerry and the glories of , : the world. (■ * "Shucks, oive Me Reno." > While we were thus conversing, a - 'representative of a French news service, r which had apparently- bought the story I- which you are now reading, approached 1 me in some distress and asked me f whether I hadn't been in the church. 1 "Church!" says I, "There was only a dinino- room. When I go in a dining roomfit is for eating and not for marry, incr that I go. Besides, I was not asked. e I cut off- further conversation on this °- subject because a couple of Germans in h a corner were attempting to explain h to a distinctly tough American the 8 marriage philosophy of Henry \ II - n This lecture was not a success, for oui teutonic friends had barely reached the y fourth: marriage of the great King:e Barry when the American expectorated, t-. effectively and ejaculated, S i- n-ive me Reno." As such a possibility 5 - appeared remote, the motor car was ordered at 3.15, as more action was if eX Maybe" I shall be privileged a S a in to see Randolph Churchill in that frock ; n coa t. If only Eugene, de Rothschild t- could be pervaded ,to wear k® ? 's?z££ ie Herman Boger, o. message. During e » became

A First-Glass Show. Webb Miller, who was one of the privileged few, informed me . that the Mayor had put up a first-class show, making a touching and suitable speech, and, as for Mr. Jariline, he filled his new role of publicity with a. quiet dignity and was thoroughly conversant with the marriage ceremony.'- It is gradually dawning on me that the Herman Rogers in the castle and the poor man at the gate could be overdone.

Rogers has now arrived and looks pleasant. He commenced by informing us that the Duke of Windsor had been that day married. There was no reference to the health of Queen Anne. Poor Mr. Rogers. He seemed to perform a difficult task with efficiency. He read out the statemeAt of the Duke and Duchess of Windsor so slowly that shorthand was unnecessary. Men who had l>een working on Assignment here like him. "WTy Heart Was Heavy Ana Sad." Many of the journalists of the world were present —but not a bishop—no, not one, even to throw a, last brick. And so the world goes on. Yesterday, as I write, the Derby; to-morrow the Oaks; Germany arming. Spain fighting. Roosevelt floundering. Tours to-morrow will be deserted and our eyes will be_ turned elsewhere. • '

As I got into the aeroplane to fly awav one of the attendants at the aer °~ drome helped me in and remarked, "Monsieur is heavy." He was right. Mv heart was heavy as lead and sad for one who has given 25 years of his life in the service of the British Empire—a fact which seems to have been as easily forgotten to-day as it was easy to remember a year ago. N.A.N.A.