By Richard Hartley-parkinson


-Man kicked senseless as he tried to stop looters go on rampage
-Thousands of fans vent their frustration in closing minutes of match
-Several people treated in hospital for stab wounds
-Two police cars burnt out as dozens arrested
-Bridges and roads closed off as riot police try to take control
-British Columbia premier: 'This isn't the kind of city I want to live in'

Helpless against the mob: A woman in a white Vancouver t-shirt tries to defend her BMW with her friend (black top)


Canada is searching its soul today after shaming scenes in Vancouver when a riot involving thousands broke out after the local ice-hockey team lost a key match against rivals from the United States.

Meanwhile disturbing new images emerged of the violence on Wednesday night, including a video of a young local woman pleading in vain with the baying mob in to spare her BMW parked in the city centre.

Along with her diminutive female friend, the woman -- wearing a white Vancouver T-shirt -- was powerless as the mob stomped all over her car, smashing windows and kicking in the doors.


About two hours earlier, a man trying to stop rioters from looting was kicked senseless amid the scenes of chaos.

As the mayhem that followed the city's Canucks team's defeat to the Boston Bruins in the Stanley Cup final, a large crowd gathered to smash in all the windows of a department store.

A man, dressed in a black top and baseball cap, grew increasingly frustrated trying to stop the mob.

Leave it alone: She rushes to get a thug off the roof of her car

A losing battle: She manages to wrestle a vandal in a white hoodie to the ground


After one youth hit a window with a thin metal pole the man grabbed it, went after the youth and was suddenly submerged in the crowd.

He was pulled to the ground and kicked and punched before two men came to his aid as he lay there with his head bleeding.

The sickening incident happened before darkness as the city went into lockdown.

Clashes: Police attempt to hold back crowds of people after rioters torched cars and smashed shops following the Canucks' defeat

Bloodied: Help arrives as the injured man, his head cut, is sprawled on the floor after being attacked by a mob

Taken down: The man loses his baseball cap amid the punches as he starts to fall to the floor


Police closed bridges into the city as tear gas was fired to quell mobs burning cars and looting.

Thousands of fans went on the rampage after watching their team on giant TV screens on the streets.

Amid the big clean-up on Thursday, hundreds came out on the write apologies on the boarded up stores.

Messages of how saying 'sorry' and 'we will overcome' sprung up amind the devastation in the centre of the city.

A city in regret: Messages of apologies went up around the city on Thursday

'We will recover': A man writes a message of forgiveness on a boarded-up store on Thursday


Describing Wednesday's violence, Vancouver Canucks captain Henrik Sedin said: 'It's terrible. This city and province has a lot to be proud of, the team we have and the guys we have in here. It's too bad.'

Amanda Harwood, a British woman living in the city, said: 'It's awful. There are vehicles on fire, overturned buses, smashed shop windows, fires in the shops, looting, stabbings, injuries from glass on the street, police are using tear gas.

'Bridges are closed and they have stopped anyone going to the downtown area.'

Damage: Fans overturn a car in the centre of the city as hundreds look on

Despite being consumed in flames this car's lights continue to shine amid the chaos

Mob rule took over in the centre of Vancouver following the match with widespread reports of looting


Vancouver police constable Jana McGuinness said: 'It's just a huge disappointment for everyone to see this.'

This morning a Facebook group was set up called 'Post Riot Clean up - Let's help Vancouver that said: 'Once the embarrassing rioting has ended in... Vancouver let's all show the world what Vancouver is really about by helping rebuild and clean up so it is better than it was before.

'If any city can bounce back from an embarrassment like this it is Vancouver!'

Christy Clark, Premier of British Columbia, told The Globe and Mail: 'If you were a part of this, and I'm speaking to people who may have been responsible last night, I promise you this.

'You won't be able to live in anonymity, you won't be behind your bandana or under your hoodie.

'We are going to do everything we can to make sure the public understands who you were. Your family, your friends, your employer will know you were a part of it.

'Because this cannot happen in our city. It isn't the kind of city that I want to live in.'

Wai Young, the conservative MP for Vancouver South, made a reference to the riots in Parliament during a question period yesterday.

Using her Twitter page, she said: 'The violence is an embarrassment and absolute disgrace to our city.'

Hedy Fry, liberal MP for Vancouver Centre, said she thought the police handled the situation as well as they could.

But she was unable to explain the motivation behind those 'fans' who took pictures of themselves by burning cars while looting took place behind them.
She told CTV News: 'This is madness.'

A girl pulls one man back from the line of police horses as a hooded youth surveys the scene from a canopy

Stripped of their team's clothing, youths dressed in black enter a building through a smashed window

Counting the cost: A mannequin leg is all that remains of one fire while a security guard stands by a bank

'We have a small number of hooligans on the streets of Vancouver causing problems,' Vancouver Mayor Gregor Robertson said. 'It's absolutely disgraceful and shameful and by no means represents the city of Vancouver.

'We have had an extraordinary run in the playoff, great celebration. What's happened tonight is despicable.'

At a Bay store, looters were seen grabbing T-shirts and anything else they could get their hands on. Young women were seen escaping with MAC cosmetics, with one carrying out part of a mannequin.

The landmark building was filling with smoke as people, their faces covered in bandannas, continued the violence.

NBA star Steve Nash, from nearby Victoria and the brother-in-law of Canucks forward Manny Malhotra, sent a Twitter message imploring the fans to stop the violence. 'We're a great city and have a lot of class. Our team is great and our championship will come. Soon,' Nash wrote.

A statement from the Vancouver Canucks praised police and condemned the rioters.

Vice-president T.C. Carling said: 'The destructive actions and needless violence demonstrated by a minority of people last night in Vancouver is highly disappointing to us all.

'As an organisation, we would like to thank the law enforcement agencies, fire and rescue workers who displayed courage and expertise during a very difficult situation.

'We are proud of the city we live and play in and know that the actions of these misguided individuals are not reflective of the citizens of Vancouver or of any true fans of the Canucks or the game of hockey.'

Rick Antonson, chief executive of Tourism Vancouver, said the rioting had damaged the reputation of Vancouver as a peaceful city after the celebrations of the Winter Olympics.

He told CBC.ca: 'All of the good of the Olympics has for a moment been reset down. It's like a virtual snakes and ladders game.

'We were at the top - at the goal - and all of a sudden that long snake down, and we have to begin the climb again.

'For the moment, they are the representatives that the world sees on behalf of Vancouver and that's not irreparably damaging, but it's really difficult to overcome.'

Riots: A fire rages in an overturned pick up truck after it was set alight in downtown Vancouver

Thick smoke rises from the burning vehicles as fans react to their team's unexpected loss

Boston Bruins Zdeno Chara lifts the Stanley Cup after beating the Vancouver Canucks 4-0 as violence erupts on the streets outside

A pizza shop worker jumps through the window after the riots as business owners wake up to find out if their property has got through the night untouched

A pair of police cars are engulfed in flames after several hours of rioting before officers regained control

Thousands of people had gathered to enjoy the game in central Vancouver but things turned nasty in the closing stages


A number of people were arrested amid the troubles, but as yet there are no details of how many.

A small group of rioters appeared to be at the centre of the action which reminded some of a similar scene that erupted in the city in 1994 following a Canucks loss to the New York Rangers.

Police and firefighters stood at the edge of the troubles until back up arrived and urged people not to head towards the trouble.

As the night progressed fans with bandanas or T-shirts covering their faces wandered the streets to avoid detection and the smoke.

Patrick Fleming, 15, said a small group took out its anger on cars in the game's dying moments flipping over two vehicles and setting one on fire.

Thousands of people had crammed into the heart of downtown Vancouver in hope of celebrating a victory over Bruins close to the Rogers Arena.

Local radio stations reported that some shops had been ransacked and at least one person was reported to have been injured.

People gathered around two burning police cars and took pictures as the fire took hold of the smashed up vehicles


There was a smell of acrid smoke and stale beer as riot police with truncheons eventually moved in to quell the violence and push crowds away from the burning cars.

Flames reached about 10 metres into the air from cars while some people threw firecrackers. Canucks memorabilia and placards were set on fire as others danced on an overturned vehicle.

At least two young men covered in soot claimed they had been 'roughed up' by police but had not been arrested.

Som Gosh, 16, said police blocked off the area and detained a number of people. 'I think it was a few people. ... Everybody else is watching,' he said.

In February, Vancouver was voted the 'most liveable city' for the fifth year in a row.

The annual survey, from the Economist Intelligence Unit, rates each city in five areas – stability, healthcare, culture and environment, education and infrastructure.

It is used by companies around the globe to determine levels of employee allowances as part of expatriate relocation packages.

Police pin a man to the ground to arrest him as the rest of the crowd stands back and looks on

Fans dice with death as they leap over one of the fires that was burning in the middle of a street

Boston Bruins fans players and staff celebrated winning the Stanley Cup after their 4-0 victory that led to the trouble

As the remains of a burnt out pick up truck continues to burn Vancouverites have vowed to take back their streets and clean the streets






source:dailymail

By Rebecca Evans


For 300 years, it has been the highlight of the summer calendar for the well-off and well-connected.

But these days, it seems, the enclosures and stands of Royal Ascot are becoming increasingly popular with a much less distinguished breed of racegoer.

As the Queen’s favourite racing event celebrates its tricentenary, fights have been breaking out amongst the male racegoers at the historic Berkshire course, watched by worse for wear women who can barely stay upright in their high heels.

A quick glance across the terraces reveals a sea of flesh and unsightly tattoos – of women in cheap, tawdry dresses and men who have shunned the expected top hat.

Lowering the tone: A fight breaks out between racegoers, with one man, left, wielding a champagne bottle and another, right, clutching a broken chair

Broken chairs and glasses litter the scene and the man is still wielding the champagne bottle as another man shields his face

Getting nasty: Spectators throw drinks - and punches as onlookers watch in horror

Many believe that the social fixture, once a prestigious highlight of the summer season, is becoming as bawdy as the meetings at Aintree and Cheltenham.

Yesterday was Gold Cup Day, commonly known as Ladies’ Day, but there was little evidence of ladylike – or gentlemanly – behaviour as the event ended in two arrests.
In a blatant disregard for Ascot’s strict behavioural code, a drunken brawl broke out by a Victorian band stand.

Eight men started to fight on the lawn by a champagne bar just yards from the The Royal Mile, Ascot’s home straight. Terrified racegoers fled to avoid being struck by stray punches as the drunken group, some egged on by female friends, armed themselves with bottles and chair legs.

The men, who had been drinking £98 bottles of Laurent Perrier Rose Champagne, ended up being pulled apart by members of the military.

Sophie Healy, 25, from Windsor, who witnessed the fracas, said: ‘I can remember one guy saying, “Are you mugging me off [insulting me]?”

Ouch: A racegoer takes a tumble clutching his head as he hits the floor, and right, his blood-spattered suit

Man down! One racegoer clutches his head in agony whilst another desperately grabs on to another man's leg in an attempt to floor him

What's going on here then? Members of the military step in to sort out the drama as one man holds another man in a headlock

And they're off! The fight caused such a disturbance dozens of racegoers stop to watch


‘The tone of his voice was really aggressive and then they started pushing and shoving.

‘We got out of the way and then suddenly our table, with a newly-bought bottle of champagne, went flying.

‘Things turned really nasty with one man wielding a broken chair leg and another had a bottle of champagne.’

In a separate incident, a man was arrested for hitting another racegoer in the face in the car park.

And a 24-year-old man was also arrested for possession of Class B drugs – as it emerged that racecourse bosses have installed a drugs honesty box by the gates to give visitors the chance to hand over any narcotics before entering the grounds.

Also lowering the tone yesterday was Helen Wood, the vice girl who was once involved with footballer Wayne Rooney.

Miss Wood, who attended because the festival is a ‘great place to be seen’, wore a backless, floor-length champagne-coloured gown.

New face of Ascot: A tattooed man watches from the Grandstand and vice girl Helen Wood, right

Over the top: Yet another tattoo and, right, another guest shows off her body art and fake tan


The 24-year-old, who is the subject of an injunction after having sex with a famous actor, flouted protocol by neglecting to wear a hat as she sauntered around the grounds posing for photographers.

And other racegoers seemed equally determined to disregard Ascot’s guidelines on smart dress, which explicitly warn against the perils of over-done fake tan and immodest attire.

The dress guide is posted with tickets, which cost around £60, and displayed on the website.

The decline in standards has not gone unnoticed, as racing commentator Sir Peter O’Sullevan pointed out when he said: ‘Sometimes the grandstands seem over-run by tattoos and bare flesh. It’s disrespectful – not just to the Queen, but to the horses.’

Ascot was first discovered by Queen Anne in 1711. She realised that the unbroken panorama of rich green turf, just five miles across the Berkshire countryside from the royal stables at Windsor Castle, would be the perfect place to gallop her beloved horses.

Queen Elizabeth II has not missed a meeting since she first attended with her parents in 1945, aged 19.

She spends four summer days there each year and no other engagement is allowed to take precedence over Royal Ascot, which attracts some 300,000 visitors.

Celebrity guests at Ladies’ Day yesterday included footballer Michael Owen and newly-knighted entertainer Bruce Forsyth.

Sir Bruce, who had to fight his way through dozens of photographers and fans to get to the racetrack, joked: ‘I love the crowds. It’s so restful. I come here for a restful day.’


source:dailymail

By Mail On Sunday Reporter


As the Queen prepares to celebrate her Diamond Jubilee, one of her closest relatives and oldest friends has been allowed to give an unprecedented insight into the family life of the Royals. There have been hundreds of other books claiming to offer a glimpse behind Palace doors, but this is the first written by someone who is closely related to the Royal Family and has shared their lives – not only throughout the Queen's reign but also through that of her father, King George VI.

The Final Curtsey, by Her Majesty's cousin and childhood playmate the Honourable Margaret Rhodes, is being serialised exclusively by The Mail on Sunday, starting today.

It tells in enchanting detail the story of Mrs Rhodes's relationship with the Royal Family over eight decades. The book, illustrated with delightfully informal and never-before-seen pictures, has been written with the full knowledge of the Queen, who has read and approved parts of it.

The Queen and I: The Honourable Lady Margaret Rhodes sits resting with the Queen during a trek through deer-stalking area at Balmoral


One of the most remarkable chapters is a vivid and profoundly moving description of the death of the Queen Mother, who was Mrs Rhodes's aunt, on Easter Saturday, 2002.

The author – who worked in the offices of MI6 during the war and is now a sprightly 86 – tells how, when she went to record her aunt's death at the registrar's office in Windsor, she was asked: 'Right, what was the husband's occupation?'

'After a second's hesitation, I answered, "King." She adds: 'I think Queen Elizabeth (the Queen Mother) might have found that almost amusing.' Mrs Rhodes, who was a Lady-in-Waiting to the Queen Mother, paints a colourful and hugely endearing portrait of a much-loved Royal.

'She recalls how, over tea one day, the conversation turned to Tony Blair's Cool Britannia, 'prompting Queen Elizabeth to remark wistfully, "Poor Britannia. She would have hated being Cool." '

Elsewhere in the book she reveals how the Queen Mother was a fan of the TV shows Two Fat Ladies and Dad's Army. Perhaps more surprisingly, she was also a fan of the mystical poet Edith Sitwell and the Poet Laureate Ted Hughes, who was a regular and favoured guest.

Life at Birkhall, the Queen Mother's home on the edge of the Balmoral estate, is described – along with sometimes uproarious dinners. Mrs Rhodes recalls: 'At the end of the meal, Queen Elizabeth would start a series of toasts. As well as "Hooray for..." with glasses held high, there was even more of "Down with..." with glasses almost disappearing beneath the table.'

Mrs Rhodes lives in the Royal enclave in Windsor Great Park in a house given to her by the Queen in 1980. She tells how it was offered out of the blue one day when she and the Queen – whose 60 years on the throne next year will be marked with a series of national celebrations – were out riding at Balmoral. 'She suddenly turned in the saddle and said, "Could you bear to live in suburbia?" '

The Queen and I: by The Honourable Margaret Rhodes

Born in 1925, the youngest daughter of the 16th Lord Elphinstone and his wife Mary (nee Bowes-Lyon), the Honourable Margaret Rhodes has led an extraordinary life. She was the childhood playmate of her cousin, the Queen; a wartime MI6 operative; and Lady-in-Waiting to her aunt, the Queen Mother. Now, at the age of 86, she has written an enchanting autobiography that paints an unprecedentedly intimate portrait of the private world of the Royal Family...

Saturday, March 30, 2002, will be etched in my memory for ever – although it started like any other day at the Garden House, my home in the Royal enclave in Windsor Great Park. The house had been granted to me by my first cousin, the Queen, 22 years earlier. I was out riding with her on the Balmoral estate in Scotland and she suddenly turned in the saddle and said: ‘Could you bear to live in suburbia?’

It transpired that she was offering my late husband Denys and me the Garden House, a short drive from Windsor Castle and almost round the corner from Royal Lodge, the weekend retreat of Queen Elizabeth, the Queen Mother, who was my mother’s youngest sister and my aunt. Queen Elizabeth had been part of my life for as long as I could remember and, as the years passed, she seemed immortal.

She had, however, been unwell since Christmas 2001 and I suppose I had been steeling myself for the worst. I had just returned from a cruise with some friends down the Chilean coast and during that time Princess Margaret had died following a complete breakdown in her health.


The entertainer: The Queen Mother, sporting tartan and a sprig of heather in a jaunty hat, shares a joke with Margaret at the log cabin at Birkhall she named the Old Bull and Bush


She had her third stroke on February 8 and developed cardiac problems. A few days before this, she had told an old friend that she felt so ill that she longed to join her father, King George VI.

My eldest daughter Annabel had telephoned me on board the ship to break that sad news. Queen Elizabeth, although very frail, had insisted on coming down from Sandringham, where she had been staying since Christmas, for her younger daughter’s funeral in St George’s Chapel, Windsor.

I felt so sad about Margaret, but perhaps more for Queen Elizabeth than for anyone else. It is unnatural for a mother to suffer the death of a child, of whatever age, and it compounds the grief.

Margaret, the Queen and I had grown up together and, when young, Margaret had such great promise, beauty, intelligence and huge charm. It seemed a life unfulfilled in so many ways. In childhood, and when she was growing up, she was very indulged, especially by her father.

If she did misbehave, she invariably defused the situation by making everyone laugh, so that the misdemeanour was forgotten, if not forgiven. It was hard to resist her, but she did have the most awful bad luck with men.

After Margaret’s funeral, Queen Elizabeth returned to Royal Lodge, and did not leave it again. I arrived home at the Garden House on March 3, and found that my aunt was still entertaining visitors.

On March 5 she hosted a lawn meet and lunch for the Eton Beagles, and then held her usual house party for the Sandown Park Grand Military race meeting. But she weakened further in the week before Easter, which that year would fall on March 31.

I had been a Woman of the Bedchamber – a mix of Lady-in-Waiting and companion – to my aunt since 1991 and in her final weeks I went to Royal Lodge every day, usually around 11 or 12, and had lunch with her, the meal being set on a card table in the drawing room.

I tried to amuse her with snippets of news that might interest her. It was difficult to get her to eat much.

About all she could usually manage was a cup of soup, although her chef, her Page and I spent a lot of time trying to think of dishes that might tempt her. But it was wonderful to see her every day, and I would take her little bunches of early daffodils and primroses; any flower that was really sweet-smelling.

I loved her so much, and I like to think that she regarded me as her third daughter, once paying me the compliment of introducing me as such to a visiting Scandinavian monarch. March 30 was sunny and bright and the usual chores, like exercising the dog, had to be undertaken. Then at about 11 o’clock the telephone rang.

It was Sir Alastair Aird, my aunt’s Private Secretary, warning me that the end seemed close.

She had been receiving regular visits from our local doctor, Jonathan Holliday, the Apothecary to the Household at Windsor, and on the morning of her death he was joined by Doctor Richard Thompson, the Physician to the Queen. They concluded that she would not last the day.

As I arrived at Royal Lodge, I saw that the Queen’s car was there. I went straight to my aunt’s bedroom and found her sitting in her armchair. The Queen was beside her, wearing riding clothes.

She had been alerted while riding in the Park – her groom always carried a radio link to the castle. The nurse from the local surgery and my aunt’s Dresser – Royal Household-speak for Ladies’ Maid – were also there.

A world away from state banquets: The Queen and Margaret enjoy a relaxed lunch at Glen Beg, Her Majesty's log cabin on the Balmoral estate - with the Queen's gin and Dubonnet perched on the side


My aunt’s eyes were shut and thereafter she did not open them or speak another word.

The doctors came and went, but the nurse, the Dresser and I stayed throughout. John Ovenden, the Parish Priest of the Chapel of St George’s, Windsor, arrived and went straight into Queen Elizabeth’s bedroom. He knelt by my aunt’s chair, holding her hand and praying quietly. He also recited a Highland lament that begins: ‘I am going now into the sleep ...’

He later told me that he was sure she knew what was happening because she squeezed his hand. After a while I was persuaded to take a break and went for a walk in the garden. When I came back, she had been put to bed.

She looked so peaceful. At this point the Queen returned, accompanied by Princess Margaret’s children, David Linley and Sarah Chatto. John Ovenden also came back, and we all stood round the bed when he said the prayer: ‘Now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace.’

We all had tears in our eyes and to this day I cannot hear that prayer being said without wanting to cry. Queen Elizabeth died at 3.15 in the afternoon on March 30, 2002. She just slipped away and her death certificate said that the cause of death was ‘extreme old age’.She was 101 – such a very great age.

She had arrived in the world in the time of horse-drawn carriages and was leaving it having seen men walking on the Moon. I returned home soon after, thinking that it was strangely significant that she had died on Easter Saturday, the day before the Resurrection.

Solitary moment: Prince Philip breaks into his sandwich box for a snack in the shade of a stone house built by Queen Victoria for Prince Albert at Balmoral


It had been a long and emotionally exhausting day, and I was so touched when David Linley telephoned to say that the Queen would like me to spend the night at the castle. That evening passed in rather a blur.

We had dinner and talked about more or less normal things. We went to bed quite early and next morning attended communion in the castle chapel. Later I went to Matins in the park chapel, and then drove over to Royal Lodge,to make sure all was well with the staff.

The Dresser asked me if I would like to see my aunt. She looked lovely and almost younger, death having wiped the lines away. I knelt by her bed and said a prayer for her. Then I stood up and gave her my final curtsey.

Later, I was deputed to register my aunt’s death at the Windsor registrar’s office. I was shown into the room of a rather fierce-looking lady and we went through the formalities while she ticked the relevant boxes.

At a certain point, she fixed me with a beady eye and asked: ‘Right, what was the husband’s occupation?’ It seemed a superfluous question. However, after a second’s hesitation, I answered: ‘King.’ I think Queen Elizabeth might have found that almost amusing.

Some time in 1990, Queen Elizabeth asked me to lunch at Clarence House. Ruth, Lady Fermoy, the exceedingly elegant maternal grandmother of Princess Diana, was also there. In her way she was as much a fashion plate as her granddaughter and was a senior Woman of the Bedchamber.

When the meal was over, Lady Fermoy invited me up to her sitting room. It was all rather mysterious but she finally got round to the point.

To my complete surprise she told me that Queen Elizabeth wanted me as one of her Ladies-in-Waiting, but found it difficult to ask me herself in case I was reluctant. It would have been impossible to say ‘No’ to her face. My answer, however, was an emphatic and immediate ‘Yes’. I had then been a widow for nine years and having a job gave me a focus which had been lacking since Denys’s death.

I joined a household legendary for its hospitality, conviviality and wit, but underscored by an inexorable sense of duty. It was the unstuffiest of courts and the animating spirit of all this was, of course, Queen Elizabeth. It was not in her nature to behave as though her privileged position was a crushing burden.

By temperament an enjoyer of life, she entered into everything she did with gusto and expected those close to her to do the same.

I can only say that I did my best. She turned even the most tedious occasion into a party, and from my own experience I fully agree with the anonymous leader writer at The Times, who once said of her: ‘She lays a foundation stone as though she has discovered a new and delightful way of spending an afternoon.’

She never, however, forgot what she owed to people whose lives were less comfortable, pleasant and interesting than her own. She kept her politics from the public gaze, but no one could say that she leaned towards the Left. Despite this, she got on well with many Labour politicians and had a deep concern about social conditions.

But I do remember my daughter Annabel having tea with her and the conversation touching on Tony Blair’s then latest wheeze, ‘Cool Britannia’ ... prompting Queen Elizabeth to remark wistfully: ‘Poor Britannia. She would have hated being Cool.’

When I was recruited, there were two Ladies-in-Waiting with titles, who turned out only for the very grandest of occasions, and eight Women of the Bedchamber.

We ‘Women’ did fortnightly periods ‘in-waiting’ and accompanied the boss on her official engagements.

Our rather elderly entourage was very well briefed on how to behave before we went out to meet the public – as if we didn’t know – and the Private Secretary would warn us about any potential trouble spots, such as tricky stairs and steps.

Fortunately, when I was in-waiting there were no mishaps. We were always supplied with the names of everyone we could possibly meet, and details
of what they were interested in, so that there would be no awkward silences. Our handbags contained the little extra necessities of life to make a Royal visit go like clockwork.

Portrait of joy: A charming photo taken in the Balmoral woods perfectly captures the Queen Mother's abiding love of the countryside


I did not know the contents of Her Majesty’s handbag, but there was astounded merriment at Clarence House when the satirical magazine Private Eye suggested that she never ventured far without an ironed copy of The Sporting Life, a packet of Marks & Spencer chocolate eclairs, a ready mixed gin and Dubonnet in a hip flask, and a large number of ?50 notes ‘just in case’.

At Clarence House I had a housemaid to look after me, lay my clothes out and pack and unpack for me. She would turn down my bed in the evening and draw the curtains.

I could have had breakfast in bed every morning, like some of my more elderly colleagues, but I decided I was not quite old enough for that and anyway couldn’t be bothered with the fuss it entailed. This involved a Page leaving the breakfast tray outside the door, retreating out of sight and then a housemaid knocking and carrying it in.

I do now, however, at the age of 86, allow myself breakfast in bed when I visit Balmoral and Sandringham, my years now meriting this privilege. I knew, of course, all about curtseying well before I joined the Royal Household. Some people say that they are not curtseying to the individual Royal, as such, but acknowledging what they represent – the nation.

Personally, I curtsey to the individual. So curtseying on first seeing Queen Elizabeth in the morning, and on saying goodbye or goodnight, was perfectly natural as far as I was concerned. Official engagements never started before the sun was well and truly up and they were conducted at a leisurely pace.

Queen Elizabeth liked to give full value, and so they often ran late, which didn’t bother her at all, although some members of the Household accompanying her occasionally got twitchy. She had an inherent magic and I have seen even the most die-hard republicans melt when she directed the full beam of her blue-eyed charm at them.

Her engagements had a sense of the theatre and I remember a Royal observer telling me: ‘When she steps out of her car it’s like curtain-up.’ She certainly always gave a flawless performance, although I believe it went much deeper than that because she genuinely liked people of all sorts and conditions.

She had the gift of making people believe that they were the only person in the world she wanted to talk to at that given moment. And she had a wonderful sign-off line.

It went something like this: ‘Well, I’d love to stand here talking all day, but I really must get on,’ as if she had to get home and put the joint in the oven. People were enchanted by this mix of cosiness and glamorous royalty. It was Thelma Furness, the society beauty of the 1930s, and girlfriend of the then Prince of Wales, who once remarked of Queen Elizabeth, who was then Duchess of York: ‘If ever I was reduced to living in a bungalow inBognor, the person I would most like to have living next door to me would be Elizabeth of York.’ Quite.

Princess Diana also had this gift for scattering stardust, although in a much more overt way. But Queen Elizabeth was compassionate, too, although she did not brim over with it before the crowds. She was not one for the binding up of wounds in public.

A no-nonsense woman, she did not admit to illness, unless totally unavoidable, and regarded aspirin as a dangerous drug. Her idea for the curing of a bad cold was a bracing walk in a stiff breeze across rugged terrain. It invariably worked!

But in her youth and her early years of marriage, she often suffered from a debilitating cough and bad chest. When I was not trailing round after her, coping with the overflow of bouquets and keeping conversation going along VIP line-ups, I spent a lot of my time at Clarence House responding to letters. Queen Elizabeth hada huge post, and every letter had to have a response, even if written by some poor person who was mildly deranged.

There were quite a few of those, and also from people passionate about various causes, and from children. We tried to be as helpful and kind as we could but sadly, and very often, there was nothing we could do and the only course of action was to politely tell the writer that we had referred their problem to the appropriate Government department.

Queen Elizabeth also had an Aladdin’s cave of gifts – a big cupboard of china and other bibelots – which could be dipped into, gift-wrapped and sent with a letter.

Normally the recipients were charities, particularly those local to Windsor; Ballater, near Balmoral, and in County Durham, where the Bowes family came from.

What I expected to be my finest hour arrived when one of the real ‘Ladies’ went sick and I was commanded to attend a State Banquet in honour of the King of Malaysia.

Queen Elizabeth lent me a tiara and I felt distinctly grand. The Queen and the State visitors were led in by David Airlie, the Lord Chamberlain, carrying his silver wand and walking backwards.

The banquet is always the highlight of any State visit. It is a time for an exchange of compliments and coded messages about foreign policy, spelt out by host and guest, against a glittering backdrop of gold and silver gilt plate, candelabra, crystal and massed flowers.

Winning charm: The Queen Mother waves for the cameras during an outing from Royal Lodge, her home at Windsor, with the Queen


The guest list generally numbers 150, and includes all the members of the Royal Family who can be mustered, the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Prime Minister, other members of the Cabinet, representatives of foreign powers who are friendly to the State visitor, industrialists, figures from the arts and sometimes a favourite entertainer or sports person.

In the matter of Royal protocol, Queen Elizabeth had the Archbishop of Canterbury on her right at every single State banquet. The four-course meal always has a musical accompaniment, played by a regimental band – useful for filling conversational gaps.

President Mugabe of Zimbabwe, to mention just one of the more controversial guests the Queen has had to entertain over the years, was serenaded with a selection which included the best of Half A Sixpence, I Rule The World and something called Jumping Bean.

The Director of Music gets a whisky and soda when it is all over. I wonder if those invited to these occasions realise the amount of work and planning which goes into them. Damask tablecloths, some of them more than a century old, are brought out to cover the side serving tables. Every place setting is measured with a ruler, because no butler worth his salt wants to get to the end of the table with, say, four settings left and nowhere to put them.

Late in the afternoon, the Queen, who expects perfection on these occasions, carries out a personal inspection of the tables. Well, there I was amid all this splendour, sitting next to a man whose firm was supplying a new sewage system to Malaysia. He insisted on passing on every possible detail.

It was not a conversation of memorable enjoyment, but of course the food and wine were excellent and to an extent I was able to anaesthetise myself from waste flows and piping in Kuala Lumpur.

And it was nice to leave the table at the end and not be faced with the washing-up because below stairs a massive clear-up operation was beginning. The 500 crystal glasses; the Minton china; the Sevres or the Meissen ware; the cutlery was all being washed by hand and stored away, ready for the next time.

But, as the Queen says of these occasions and her State visitors: ‘We hope to give them a nice time to remember.’ Queen Elizabeth took every opportunity to have lunch al fresco. The Clarence House garden has two large plane trees under which tables could be placed. She called this green enclave her salon vert.

These lunches were jolly occasions, but there is no truth in the story that towards she end of the meal she would order the tables to be moved close to the wall separating the garden from the Mall, so that she could eavesdrop on the conversations of the passers-by on the other side, in case they said anything complimentary or otherwise about her.

This is a good story, and part of the mythology surrounding her, but moving the tables to such a strategic listening post would have been a physical impossibility because a very large flower bed is in the way. Lunch inside when there were no visitors was held in a corner of the drawing room, and the Lady-in-Waiting would join her.

Words of wisdom: Prince Charles deep in conversation with his grandmother during a lunch in the sunshine on the Balmoral estate


There were always two gentlemen of the Household in attendance to even up the numbers. Queen Elizabeth liked to do us well. The chef produced excellent food and the wine was of the best. The meal was always followed by cheeses and then fresh fruit and lastly coffee.

She did not at all mind people smoking, saying it reminded her of her husband, her father and her brothers, who all smoked. In the evenings when we dined alone she liked to watch television as we ate and she thoroughly enjoyed cookery programmes, particularly Two Fat Ladies and comedy shows including Dad’s Army.

The key figures in the Household were Sir Martin Gilliat, the Private Secretary, an ebullient figure who sometimes took on the role of master of the revels; the less ebullient, but wonderfully organised Sir Alastair Aird, the Comptroller; and the Treasurer, Sir Ralph Anstruther, who was a whizz with figures, down to the last decimal point, and who doled out my very modest expenses allowance.

Retirement was not an option, except for the young Equerry, always from the Irish Guards, who was seconded to Royal duties for three years.

There were a number of other people in the Household: the Lord Chamberlain, who when I arrived was the Earl of Dalhousie; a Page of Honour, and two Apothecaries – an antique description for the two highly qualified medical consultants who were on call, one for Clarence House and the other for Royal Lodge.

There were three secretaries, described as Lady Clerks – one of them worked for the Comptroller and one for the Ladies-in-Waiting. The third worked in the office of the Press Secretary, Sir John Griffin. Her duties included fielding media calls, and she had a notice pinned on the wall proclaiming: ‘We don’t leak.’

This was in the days when reportage of the Royal Family was running wild and out of control. The domestic staff was headed by the Housekeeper, and there were also, of course, several footmen, housemaids and chefs.

Prominent among this group were the Page of the Backstairs, William Tallon, and the Page of the Presence, Reginald Wilcock, his close friend. The bouffant-haired Mr Tallon was something of a celebrity with the media, which sensed an outr? character among an otherwise faceless band of retainers.

Like all perfect Royal servants, he knew his place, but as his work involved close proximity to one of the most photographed women in the world he found it impossible completely to remain in the shadows.

The media dubbed him Backstairs Billy, but Queen Elizabeth called him William. I believe there was genuine affection between Mr Tallon and his employer, and although the upstairs-downstairs rule applied, William and Queen Elizabeth probably met somewhere in the middle.

He was her longest-serving servant, one of the coterie she regarded as her extended family. Each Christmas she would give him items from a 70-piece dinner service, and he was close to completing the set when she died.

His home, Gate Lodge, at the entrance to Clarence House from the Mall, was like a mini Victoria and Albert Museum. It was exquisitely furnished and decorated with gifts from her private collection, and many from long-standing friends of my aunt, as well as from William’s friends in the ballet and theatre world.

He was devastated by her death, which occurred on the 51st anniversary of the start of his Royal service. With other members of her personal staff, he walked behind her coffin on its journey from the Queen’s Chapel at St James’s to its lying-in-state in Westminster Hall – in attendance to the last.

One of my colleagues, approaching her 80th birthday, began to drop hints that it was about time for her to go, but before she could breathe another word her employer said: ‘Congratulations! You will find that you feel marvellous after you’re 80.’

The subject of retirement was never mentioned again. At the time, Queen Elizabeth was 98. It seemed death was the only exit and I sometimes wondered whether my aunt would see me out. She never mentioned dying, only occasionally obliquely referring to someone having ‘gone upstairs’.

An example of an intensely loyal courtier staying in post until the end was Martin Gilliat, a very brave man who had been a Colditz ?prisoner.

He had been diagnosed with cancer, but although he was seriously ill, Queen Elizabeth threw a party in 1993 to celebrate his 80th birthday, which ended with the usual nostalgic sing-song round the piano.

Enjoying the garden: Margaret with the Queen, resplendent in her kilt, pausing for a snap during a quiet stroll around Balmoral


Afterwards, Martin carried on for more than three months, a shadow of his former sparky self but still forcing himself to work from his flat in St James’s Palace.

Finally he went into hospital and died three days later. He was much lovedand I know Queen Elizabeth deeply mourned the indomitable man who had run both her official and private life for nearly 40 years.

Shortly afterwards, Lady Ruth Fermoy died of inoperable cancer and the two deaths left her bereft. Of all the Royal homes, Birkhall, on the edge of the Balmoral estate, was the one I most deeply loved. I had been going there since I was five years old.

Before Queen Elizabeth enlarged it, Birkhall was little more than a small 18th Century dower house. There were few rooms for visitors; the nursery and the sparse accommodation were filled whenever Queen Elizabeth held open house.

There was one large room in the tin-roofed annexe where,as a child, I played with Princess Elizabeth and Princess Margaret. The burn, the Muick, burbled away at the bottom of the steeply sloping garden and behind rose the fir-clad heights of the Coyles of Muick.

In October the birches turned bright yellow and the rowans scarlet and one could hear the stags roaring their autumnal defiance.

At Birkhall, lunch was never indoors, whatever the weather, except on Sunday, which had to be observed with some degree of formality, after attending the Kirk. Queen Elizabeth’s friends and relations all contributed to the cost of building a charming little wooden cabin beside one of her favourite pools in the River Dee.

She called it the Old Bull And Bush after a pub near Hampstead Heath, immortalised in the music-hall song Down At The Old Bull And Bush performed by Florrie Forde in the 1920s, when Queen Elizabeth was a girl. She loved the old songs and knew all the words. In another life she might have been a star of the ‘Halls’.

Dinner at Birkhall could be an uproarious affair. At the end of the meal, Queen Elizabeth would start a series of toasts. As well as ‘Hooray for ...’ with glasses held high, there was even more of ‘Down with ...’ with glasses almost disappearing beneath the table.

The toasts, combined with the simultaneous chiming of six grandfather clocks, and the community singing - Lloyd George Knew My Father was a firm favourite - made for an unforgettable evening. So, being in-waiting was not all protocol and curtseying: it was, in fact, tremendous fun.


source:dailymail