FROM A RINGSIDE SEAT

Press, Volume CXIII, Issue 33384, 16 November 1973, Page 1

FROM A RINGSIDE SEAT

'From CHARLES COOPER, London correspondent of "The Press.")

LONDON. November 15. j Well, it’s all over. Now she is the Princess Anne.; Mrs Phillips, and around town the flags are coming down and tizz that has kept London bubbling for weeks is going flat. While it lasted it was quite ■ a wedding — although ini truth. 1 can onlv vouch for the Abbey bit where my seat ! turned out to be worth every! cent of the 839.36 (or, if you like, £24) 1 had to pay the. Church for it. The “tradesmen’s en-; trance" turned out to be a; narrow hole opening on to; a massive statue under some; murky arches. But behind, the statue (whose, 1 never got: to read) towered a two-tiered: pipe grandstand for the 100! or so cash customers from the press. And the vista from there was one to cause a catching of the breath. Every angle of the venerable and ornate Abbev was etched into

| brilliance by the scores of 1 television lamps skilfully aimed to light the pageant I for more than 500 million ; viewers around the globe. Already, what bays I could, isee—in this place that was! never designed to be a! stadium — were laid with! wall-to-wall carpets of colour, . from hundreds of bright hats; and dresses and dozens of I ; regimental uniforms. , Back over the heads of thei ■ guests, and glaring stonily at' .'the intrusion of the incon-! j grous pipe stand, stood a row Ji of white marble Prime Min- ! isters — rigid reminders of I . the centuries of history that! had marched through this! 'timeless building. ’ On silent colour television! screens hung from mighty j , pillars the world outside the I great, murmuring vault of the Abbey flashed and danced in I a kaleidoscope of plumes and coaches and ! straining horses, people, flags, and thinning autumn ,i trees. Curtain rises 1 The front rows suddenly | • absorbed their very, very im-l portant persons, and it was! like those electric moments; | before the theatre curtainl rises on a momentous show.! On the screens the Queen! was arriving at the front j door, and soon she was there j • in reality in w’hat was some-, I thing of a mob scene until it! . finally melted away as every-! one found an appointed seat. But, one was empty. Be- ■ tween the Queen and the; Queen Mother. It was for the! 11father of the bride who, like! any father of the bride, had, ■ duties to conclude before he! ■ could become a spectator. I The centre of the stage! , was next crowded with flow-! ing silvers and golds, and; reds—and the heavy solem- ! nity of the clergy. There was a sacrist, a moderator, a dean! ' and a sub-dean, a bishop and! two archbishops, a chaplain: and a minister, all takingtheir ceremonial stances. ; As though positioned at, ; the wave of a wand the bride-! groom and the best man w 're suddenly in the centre of the! aisle. Twin officers in scarlet ' jackets slashed with gold and' 1 brass, and leg-hugging black-; drainpipes broadly striped in! white. Their aplomb was magnificent, and the shy Captain! Phillips looked as though he; ! faced 1600 wedding guests—| i and 500 million viewers — Jevery day of his life. They! chatted in total relaxation —; outwardly anyway — with, i the best man keeping his eves itoward the door and offering!

situation reports to the; groom who steadfastly re-|i fused to allow himself a full J look up the aisle. J Another procession ofp h clergy signalled the approach of the bride and her 1 ■{father, who were slowly fol- ' U lowing in the trail of a verger, isome minor canons, a J canon’s verger, a canon, a 1 {dean’s verger, a dean, and ' sundry carriers of church 1 •ornaments. Big grill , The groom turned toward i his bride—and on the way i {gave her father an ear-to-ear ; ! I grin of total family in- < {timacy.f I would wager he J got back an equal grin i ■ iwhich said, “I was here, too, 1 ■ once.” 1 , Every person in the Abbey i was standing. ....

The Queen looked straight ahead. It was impossible to read her emotions. But Prince Charles was looking steadfastly at his sister, and tremors of his face muscles betrayed thoughts—but not the substance of them. It was his twenty-fifth birthday—and was he thinking that before long he, too, might be standing there listening to that service? About 15ft above the bride and 60ft away, this was virtually—if the word is not too unroyal—ringside. And all the time those colour screens were bringing Other angles and facets of the ceremony. With the first part of the marriage service over, the bride and groom move toward the altar and out of vision. The Duke chats to the Queen, makes small jokes, and she responds readily. Prince Charles talks to his grandmother, the Queen Mother, and Princess Margaret whispers to her slightly-fidgeting son. The sole non-Kent in the second Royal row is 90-year-old Princess Alice, the only surviving grand-daughter of Queen Victoria. At the last minute she withdrew from the prospect of a swaying coach ride and was delivered to the Abbey in a sensible, secure Rolls-Royce. As the bride and groom move past the altar toward the signing of the registers, their page and bridesmaid catch up with them. These two tots—Prince Edwardand Lady Sarah ArmstrongJones—have had the toughest job in the bridal party. No sitting or kneeling fori them, and they have stood; on the one spot throughout; the ceremony. Glad to be on the move,Prince Edward nearly over-i runs the bride’s train, and! has to check his step—nearly committing the crime about which he would have had most warnings. Off-stage Into the private recesses of the Abbey go the Queen and the Duke, Prince Charles, and the Queen Mother, Prince Andrew, the best man, and the groom’s parents. It is a totally offstage function, without cameras or commentators. After a commendably I short absence the Queen and; the Duke lead the little; party back into view, and it! is time for all the proces-i sions to go into reverse. The bride and groom—-all! smiles and relaxation—come back to the centre, and they, too, salute the Queen. A

:i skin-tingling fanfare of im:mense power threatens to blast apart the ancient Abbey stones as the newlyweds start slowly down the aisle. 1 The mother in the Queen takes over from the majesty, and she steps forward a pace to watch her daughter and her son-in-law for the full length of the journey to the door. The Duke, too, : watches intently, and every now and then his sense of humour erupts and he immediately passes ori the message to the Queen, who smiles or laughs as the strain lifts. As she and the Duke move forward their team of ceremonial escorts glides into formation again, and the whole Royal Family and their supporters repeat the troupe scene of their entrance as they disappear through the Abbey and there are only the guests left. And the wedding is over. Spurs and all As I was walking from the Abbey I was near three, senior, be-medalled officers—shoulders back, ramrod straight, accessories clinking, and spurs jingling. “I say, they were jolly good seats, were they not?” “Indeed, I had a jolly good view. I say, chaps, let’s not go up this way. We’ll run into that procession.” Well, that’s gratitude for you.