Ian Priest and his wife Teresa attended a royal garden party at Buckingham Palace – King Charles’ first public engagement since his cancer diagnosis. Here’s Ian’s account of the day...
Imagine our surprise and delight when, in January, we received an email from the Honours Secretariat asking if we would like to attend a Royal Garden Party.
The citation for this honour was specifically for “your outstanding services as Choir Master and Conductor, of The Manuden Singers. For services to Music and Charity” – a result of the 21 years or more during which we ran the choir and donated the proceeds of all our concerts, totalling over £50,000, to local, national and international charities.
We were asked to commit to being available on one of two dates: May 8 and 21. A few weeks beforehand we learnt it would be the 8th, so we followed the weather forecast with great interest. We would not be allowed to take knapsacks or luggage, just a handbag, so what you travelled in was it for the whole day.
Just to add more complications, there was a train strike the day before, and we all know that on the day following a strike, services are pretty erratic; however, on the day, all seemed well.
I carried Teresa’s enormous hat in a shopping bag so that we weren’t too obvious, but with Teresa in her satin fuchsia pink outfit and me in a morning suit, we were somewhat out of the ordinary.
The gates opened at 3pm. Arriving in good time at the Hyde Park Corner gate of the palace gardens, there was already a long queue down Constitution Hill, which doubled in length just in the time it took us to cross the road. It looked as if it would take ages to get inside the grounds. The queue began to move quickly when the gates opened at 3pm, with enough police to check ID quickly and enough armed officers inside to deter Al-Qaeda.
We took the opportunity to speak to as many people as possible and ask the background to their invitation; a bishop with his mother in a pushchair said that bishops were often on the guest list. Walking down through the beautiful gardens – wonderful borders full of spring blossoms, immaculate lawns – there was no shortage of other guests willing to take our photograph and have theirs taken in turn.
We heard that there were about 2,000 guests – but this later turned out to be 8,000! We spotted a young RAF officer whom I recognised from his stripes as a group captain; he had just been promoted at the age of 47 – about the same age my father achieved the same rank. We wandered on past the beautiful lake, down to the lawns beyond the west side of the palace.
The royal party arrived on the West Terrace at 4pm on the dot. The King and Queen were accompanied by the (new) Duke and Duchess of Edinburgh, Edward and Sophie, the Duke and Duchess of Gloucester and the Princess Royal. A forest of arms went up from the crowd, including us, straining to capture the moment on their mobiles.
A contingent of yeomen, complete with newly embroidered ‘CR’ on their chests and bearing a forbidding array of pikes, ‘held ground’, i.e. created a space in which the royal party could meet the fortunate few chosen to come forward – and keep the rest of us at bay.
There was an impressive cross-section of the population among the guests: several bishops, military officers and NCOs from all the armed services, mayors with their splendid chains of office; representatives of not only Jewish and Muslim communities but of many nations besides.
We were blessed with beautiful sunshine all day. It was so warm that Teresa persuaded me to wear her splendid hat; I, being follically challenged and having no hat of my own suitable for wear with morning dress, was in danger of ending up with a sunburnt head. Unsurprisingly this attracted some attention, all complimentary, and several requests for photos.
Tea followed, a masterpiece of catering organisation served in a tent at least 300 yards long, queues 15 deep. We were fortunate to find chairs and a table where we could relax for a while and chat to a Welsh couple who had had to travel by coach as the train strike had fallen on that very day.
Then over to the Guards Band, who performed with their customary verve and military precision and were an impressive sight – four tubas supporting masses of cornets and other brass, and a very energetic drummer. I was especially interested in the band as some years ago I had had the privilege, as conductor of the Foreign and Commonwealth Office choir, to include members of the Guards Band for a special event. This was a magical experience for an amateur conductor.
Among the wide variety of guests was a very colourfully dressed lady who asked us if we would like her to take a photo with the rear terrace of the palace in the background (the usual pictures are taken from the front). Then she wanted a picture of us with her. She turned out to be the representative from Cameroon.
When it was time for the royal party to leave we were slow off the mark and just managed to get a glimpse of the Edinburghs – the King and Queen, we learned, had left 20 minutes previously. The lady standing next to Teresa said we had missed them all!
We did not want to leave, but as the sun declined in the west we made our way back up the gardens to the gate we had entered by. A lady member of the palace staff offered to escort us via the scenic route back to the Hyde Park gate, whilst a police sweep of the grounds took place to round up and gently eject stragglers like us.
On the way up we passed the elegant Admiralty Pavilion, in which Queen Alexandra used to like to sit – until her husband Edward VII plonked the 25ft tall marble Waterloo Vase directly in front of the view to the lake.
I cheekily asked the lady accompanying us if she would take a picture of us in the pavilion; she hesitated before agreeing ‘Why not?’ By this time the police cordon was well ahead of us and, on reaching the gate, we discovered it had long since closed.
A couple of police officers appeared and kindly summoned one of the golfing buggies to take us all the way down to the main garden entrance at the front of the palace. Then onto the Underground. Having not worn the hat on the way there, we decided that wearing it was the best way of carrying it; people on the escalators shouted approving comments.
Arriving home about 9pm, exhausted after a wonderful and memorable day, we went straight to bed – as we hope their Majesties, of whom we are a similar vintage, did the same (though they didn’t have so far to travel).
We considered ourselves very fortunate to be invited to the very first major event since the King’s cancer diagnosis. There was a certain kind of euphoria similar to that on VE Day, if on a much smaller scale.