Not in Front of the Corgis (2 page)

As in other great houses, members of the Royal Family, past and present, have become involved with their staff on a personal basis. But only on one
occasion in the past one hundred years at Buckingham Palace has this resulted in marriage. Tim Laurence, who began his Royal Navy career as a ‘Season’ officer on board the Royal Yacht
Britannia
– which meant he only worked during the summer months – progressed to become Equerry to The Queen for three years as one of her most trusted and personal aides, before hitting the jackpot and marrying the boss’s daughter, Anne, the Princess Royal. Their wedding took place only a few months after she divorced her first husband, Mark Phillips, and then it was revealed that Anne and Tim had been enjoying a relationship for some time before it became public knowledge. Vice-Admiral (as he later became) Laurence has still not been entirely forgiven by some of the ‘Old Guard’ at the Palace who simply could not understand, or accept, how the daughter of the Sovereign could consider marrying such a junior member of the Royal Household – and not one from an aristocratic background either.

In June 2011, The Queen conferred the honour of knighthood on her son-in-law, making him Sir Timothy Laurence KCVO, a Knight Commander of the Royal Victorian Order, Her Majesty’s personal Order of Chivalry, given only to those who have performed a special service to The Queen or her family. Many royal observers are still cynically wondering what ‘special service’ Tim did to warrant this honour.

So murder, mayhem, suicides, love affairs between men and women, men and men, women and women, above and below stairs. Jealousies and ambitions,
jockeying
for position as close to The Queen as possible – backstabbing, fawning and sycophancy – it’s all here.

On the surface the pace of the Court of Elizabeth II is as unhurried and placid as that of her
great-great
-grandmother, Queen Victoria, over a hundred years ago.

But the difference between the staff of today and those of sixty years ago is unimaginable, with only the dress interchangeable. The idea that everyone is born to a particular role in life, which must never change, has disappeared, with social divides being bridged by many people from modest origins. These days the servants of The Queen at least have a grasp of realities that was missing in days gone by. The footman, who opens the door at the Privy Purse entrance, greets
visitors
with an easy courtesy, instead of the rigid
formality
of previous years. It certainly helps to break the ice for first time visitors who might be feeling a little apprehensive.

At the same time no one who enters Buckingham Palace is unaware of the magic of the place; the mystique of Monarchy that permeates the very air.

uckingham Palace, or simply ‘The House’ as all the members of the Royal Family know it – Prince Charles pronounces it ‘The Hice’ – is the official London residence of the Sovereign. It is also the only home of the Royal Family that bears the name of its original owner: John Sheffield, Duke of Buckingham, who was ‘persuaded’ to sell it to King George III, the ‘Mad’ Monarch who is said to have ‘given away’ the American colonies. The price was considered, even in 1762, to be the property bargain of the century: £28,000, though it was not intended to be the principal residence of the Sovereign; that was to remain across the road at St James’s Palace, still the Court to which all foreign emissaries are accredited.

Considering that Buckingham Palace has been in the possession of the Royal Family for just over 250
years, some of the legends that have taken root appear to have come from medieval times.

Every great house has a murder mystery and Buckingham Palace has one of its own, involving the then Shah of Persia. During a State Visit in 1873, a
servant
was supposed to be guarding the Shah’s bedroom in the Belgian Suite throughout the night, but was discovered asleep on duty. His master ordered him to be beaten. The bodyguards took the order so literally that the servant died of his injuries. Queen Victoria was informed that it was a natural death and, to save unnecessary paperwork and any potential
embarrassment
, his body was (allegedly) buried secretly at dead of night, in a far corner of the Palace gardens near Hyde Park Corner, where, it is claimed, no
flowers
have blossomed since that day. Some of the more gullible young housemaids believe his spirit haunts the Palace and claim they have actually seen the ghost – at least that’s the reason they give when found sneaking into a forbidden bedroom late at night.

On a more prosaic note, the guardsmen who march up and down in front of the Palace in their scarlet tunics and bearskins, with a rota of two hours on four hours off, night and day, could not do much to ward off any would-be attacks as their weapons are unloaded.

The only time when they have been issued with live ammunition was in 1936 when King Edward VIII announced his abdication. In those days the guard were stationed outside the gates and not where they are today and it was thought that certain elements of the crowds might try to storm the Palace. It never
happened of course, but the soldiers are grateful that they now do not have to endure the taunts of visitors who want to be photographed alongside them and often used to try to make them laugh – which would have been against orders and would have meant the poor guardsman being placed on a charge.

The guards still occupy these exposed positions outside St James’s Palace where the usual antics go on day after day. Apparently the Japanese are the worst offenders.

Buckingham Palace is quite simply the most famous address in the world. When President Obama arrived for a State Visit in May 2011 with his wife Michelle, he was astounded at the attention to detail that accompanied their two-day stay. The Palace
officials
had even found out what sort of toilet paper the Obamas preferred in their bathroom (thickness, consistency and colour), their favourite flowers and whether they liked sheets and blankets (wool or cotton) or duvets on their beds. As the couple left, they echoed the words spoken by a previous US President, George Bush Snr, when he said, ‘Nobody does it better.’

Queen Victoria was the first monarch to live in the Palace when she moved in on 13 July 1837, just three weeks after her accession, and her successors have continued to occupy it.

But apart from George III, most of the monarchs who have lived there have not cared for the place. Indeed it was The Queen’s grandfather, King George V, who first called it The House when he said, ‘Sandringham [his Norfolk country estate] is my home; Buckingham
Palace is just a house.’ From that date, all the Royals have referred to the Palace as ‘The House’.

When King George VI acceded to the throne on the abdication of his brother King Edward VIII in 1936, he wanted to live at Clarence House, because he thought the Palace was no place to bring up two young daughters; Princess Elizabeth was ten years old at the time, while her sister Margaret was only six. It was Winston Churchill who insisted that the British people expected to see their King living in his Palace and virtually forced the new Sovereign to move, albeit reluctantly, across the road.

The Queen has never revealed her feelings about The House, but the impression that members of the Royal Household get is that she too regards the place as simply a necessary working location from which to carry out her role.

There is nothing very pretty or attractive about the Palace. It’s a functional, Portland stone edifice containing the nineteen State Apartments open to the public since 1993, but only in the summer months when The Queen is not in residence. She refuses to have the hoi polloi around when she might bump into any of them. But if you know the right people it is not difficult to have a private tour, even when The Queen is at home. One or two of the staff are said to have ‘arrangements’ whereby visitors – only around three or four at a time, so as not to arouse suspicion – arrive at a prearranged hour and are discreetly shown around the State Apartments. And if, at the end of the tour, the visitors like to press a few notes into a waiting hand, it would be considered bad form to refuse.

When The Queen decided, against her mother’s and Prince Charles’s wishes, to open the Palace to the public in 1993, she first of all walked through every room choosing which apartments she would allow the people to see. Indeed, it took seven years before she would permit the State Ballroom to be included in the tour. And today some of the more interesting rooms are strictly off-limits to anyone but the Royal Family and their personal guests: the Chinese Dining Room, with its unique décor and the India Room next door, which contains a magnificent collection of weaponry, are just two that are forbidden territory because of their proximity to the Duke of Edinburgh’s suite, while the Audience Room is far too close to Her Majesty’s private sitting room – and also the special room reserved for the Corgis. There appears to be no reason on earth why the Belgian Suite on the ground floor, where important guests stay, could not be seen, but The Queen decided against it and no one argues with her.

Throughout the working week – that’s Monday morning until Friday lunchtime – Buckingham Palace becomes the headquarters of Elizabeth II plc. It’s just an unprepossessing office block, housing the various departments needed to service the administration of Her Majesty’s official duties.

So, nineteen State Apartments, fifty-two bedrooms, ninety-two offices and ninety-eight bathrooms and lavatories (when Edward VIII lived here in 1936 there was only one bathroom and he scandalised the staff and his family by installing – horror of horrors – a shower), this is where affairs of State are handled and
it is also the scene of the most lavish entertainment enjoyed anywhere in the world.

There are rules governing every aspect of life at Court, including entertaining. When singers, artists and musicians are summoned to entertain the Royal Family, they are given a seven-page document
instructing
them in how to behave. For example, they are told they must not, under any circumstances, slouch or lean against bars or tables, bow ties should be of the self-tie variety, as The Queen hates ‘made-up’ bow ties (she claims she can spot one at twenty paces) and performers are not allowed to speak to any member of the Royal Family unless spoken to first. If they are invited to a reception after the performance, they should never approach royalty without being asked – and escorted – by a member of the Household.

While most of the departments within the Palace have been modernised to a certain extent, with word processors replacing manual typewriters, and a
computer
on every desk – they are even used in the kitchens – there remains an air of quiet tranquillity throughout the building. I have only ever seen one person running in the corridors and that was The Queen, at 10 a.m., as she rushed from one room to another, dressed in formal robes and tiara. My companion at the time explained that she was on her way to a sitting with an artist and she never liked to keep anyone waiting. Punctuality is the politeness of princes – and
obviously
queens. Otherwise, the idea of anyone hurrying is unthinkable.

There is also a custom that office doors are kept open – and all the senior members: Private Secretaries,
Keeper of the Privy Purse, Comptroller of the Lord Chamberlain’s Office, who are located on the ground floor, keep their doors open during working hours. No one knows why and how this began but it means a visitor will catch fascinating snippets of conversation as he passes by. And newcomers are warned to keep an eye open in case the Duke of Edinburgh emerges from his Private Secretary’s office. Even at ninety, His Royal Highness rarely moves slowly and as he is often shouting back to someone over his shoulder without looking where he is going, there have been collisions. One visitor says that the first time it happened to him, the Duke bumped into him causing him to sit down suddenly on the carpet. They exchanged a few words, with Prince Philip’s consisting of just two syllables, the second one being ‘off’.

Buckingham Palace – and for the purposes of this book we will concentrate on the Palace even though there will be mentions of other royal residences – is a self-contained microcosm. No other house in Britain has its own bank, post office, police station, social clubs and separate apartments for different grades of staff. Also, with forty-five-acre grounds, it boasts the largest private garden in London.

The most senior members – and as we shall see in the chapter on the Royal Household, a Member, with a capital ‘M’, is not just another worker, but an important cog in the royal machine – are able to enjoy as much whisky, gin, brandy or any other drink as they like, free of charge, not that in these days of the breathalyser many of them are heavy drinkers, unlike in previous reigns when no meal was consumed
without copious glasses of wine and champagne followed by liquers. A few years ago the Lord Chamberlain, on one of his rare budget-conscious saving sprees, decided to charge the Members for all the spirits they drank. It was then pointed out to him by the Keeper of the Privy Purse that it was costing so much to collect the money it wasn’t worth the effort and the whole idea was quietly dropped – not that The Queen knew anything about it. If she had known she would have been highly amused. And there is no truth in the story that Her Majesty walks the Palace corridors at night switching off lights to save money.

Visitors to Buckingham Palace, apart from those who are invited to use the Grand Entrance, usually go in by the north centre gate, that’s the one on the right as you face the Palace from The Mall. Once the policeman has checked your identity and verified that you are expected, you are directed across the gravel forecourt to the Privy Purse Door, so called because at one time it led straight into the office occupied by the Keeper of the Privy Purse. They have kept the name but that office is now used by The Queen’s press secretary.

There are five shallow steps leading to the door, carpeted in rather shabby red carpet, worn thin by the hundreds of feet that use it continually. As you approach the door a liveried footman always opens it immediately; no one ever has to ring the doorbell or use the knocker. The footman wears his daytime uniform of dark green frock coat, black trousers, white shirt and striped waistcoat. They are the only men in the Palace who normally wear waistcoats (or vests), as
The Queen is believed not to care to see men wearing three-piece suits. If, as on the occasion of President Obama’s visit, this is a State occasion, he will be
wearing
a scarlet tailcoat.

The footman greets the visitor by name and shows you into the waiting room on the immediate right of the front door. Furnished with gilt chairs upholstered in lime green silk, there are two writing tables but no writing paper or pens since guests began stealing them as royal souvenirs. Newspapers are laid out on a further small table and three large paintings, frequently changed, adorn the walls. There is a fireplace, but like every other fireplace in the Palace with the exception of the one in The Queen’s sitting room, it is never lit. Altogether there are over 300 fireplaces in Buckingham Palace and as it normally takes some five people to prepare and light Her Majesty’s fire, the practice has been quietly dropped and now central heating and single-bar electric fires have replaced coal and logs.

The system involving five people is as follows: the coal and kindling is collected from outside by a member of the garden staff, who hands it over to a kitchen porter (KP) as he is not expected to work inside the house. Then the KP carries the bundle to the green baize door separating the kitchen from the rest of the Palace and hands it on to a footman, who then carries it upstairs to Her Majesty’s door. But he is not permitted to enter the private apartments so a housemaid then proceeds to take over and lays the fire, but, protocol being what it is, she does not strike the match to light the fire. That privilege goes to Her Majesty’s personal Page. Obviously, if this were to be
repeated throughout the Palace nothing would ever get done. So, modern central heating replaced coal fires and at the same time the environment was improved immeasurably, which, no doubt, would have greatly pleased Prince Charles.