Tinniswood - BEHIND THE THRONE: five centuries of life in the royal household

When you appear show yourself gloriously, to your people; like a god, for as the holy writ says, we have called you gods.

T HE M ARQUESS OF N EWCASTLES letter of advice to Charles II, 1659

The King asked

The Queen, and

The Queen asked

The Dairymaid:

Could we have some butter for

The Royal slice of bread?

The Queen asked

The Dairymaid,

The Dairymaid

Said, Certainly,

Ill go and tell

The cow

Now

Before she goes to bed.

The Dairymaid

She curtsied,

And went and told

The Alderney:

Dont forget the butter for

The Royal slice of bread.

The Alderney

Said sleepily:

Youd better tell

His Majesty

That many people nowadays

Like marmalade

Instead.

The Dairymaid

Said Fancy!

And went to

Her Majesty.

She curtsied to the Queen, and

She turned a little red:

Excuse me,

Your Majesty,

For taking of

The liberty,

But marmalade is tasty, if

Its very

Thickly

Spread.

The Queen said

Oh!

And went to His Majesty:

Talking of the butter for

The royal slice of bread,

Many people

Think that

Marmalade

Is nicer.

Would you like to try a little

Marmalade

Instead?

The King said,

Bother!

And then he said,

Oh, deary me!

The King sobbed, Oh, deary me!

And went back to bed.

Nobody,

He whimpered,

Could call me

A fussy man;

I only want

A little bit

Of butter for

My bread!

The Queen said,

There, there!

And went to

The Dairymaid.

The Dairymaid

Said, There, there!

And went to the shed.

The cow said,

There, there!

I didnt really

Mean it;

Heres milk for his porringer

And butter for his bread.

The queen took

The butter

And brought it to

His Majesty.

The King said

Butter, eh?

And bounced out of bed.

Nobody, he said,

As he kissed her

Tenderly,

Nobody, he said,

As he slid down

The banisters,

Nobody,

My darling,

Could call me

A fussy man

BUT

I do like a little bit of butter to my bread!

A. A. MILNE

I t was five oclock in the afternoon. General Sir Henry Lynedoch Gardiner realised with a jolt that he had made a terrible mistake.

A veteran of the Crimean War and the Indian Mutiny, Gardiner had served in the royal household for twenty-seven years. Now that he was seventy-six, his memory was starting to fail himrather a serious fault in Queen Victorias senior equerry, whose job it was to smooth his sovereigns path through life. He was very defensive about it, lashing out at anyone who tried to remind him of his duties.

Whenever there was a big dinner at Windsor Castle, a band from one of the five Guards regiments that made up the Household Division of the British army entertained the queen and her guests by playing on the terrace outside the dining room. To get there, they had to walk through the dining room itself, making sure they were at their places before the diners arrived.

There was just such a dinner this eveningand Gardiner had forgotten to book the band. With less than four hours to go, the guardsmen were all at their camp in Windsor Great Park or, worse, out drinking in Windsor itself. This was the 1890s: there were no telephones and no cars. There was no way to contact them, no way to have them in place on the castle terrace by 8:45, when the queen and her guests would sweep into the dining room, expecting music.

Gardiner decided he had no choice but to resign. He went to the junior equerry, a young Guards officer named Fritz Ponsonby, and told him so. But Fritz reckoned the game was not yet lost. He sent a groom from the stables galloping off with a message for the officer commanding the regiment, begging him to gather the bandsmen together. He sent another to the superintendent of the stables at Windsor, ordering up three large wagonettes to bring the men to the castle as soon as they were assembled. Then, realising that if they were even slightly late they wouldnt be able to walk through the dining room to the terrace, he spoke to the head of the Windsor Castle fire brigade and persuaded him to have four ladders ready on the North Terrace. The bandsmen were going to have to scale the castle walls.

Just after 8:45, Queen Victoria and her guests entered the dining room. Fritz and General Gardiner came up the rear, despondent as they realised there was no national anthem wafting in through the windows from the terrace. But as the guests sat down, Fritz noticed shadowy figures clambering over the wall onto the terrace, lugging their instruments after them. Before Victoria had taken a mouthful of soup, the Guards band struck up an overture and the day was saved.

The next morning, General Gardiner received a note from the queen pointing out that the band should always play the national anthem when she came in to dinner.