JUNE 2018| The Australian Women’s Weekly 51
Whether the girl we came
to love as shy Lady Di, and
who we knew blushed, was,
in fact, a blushing bride, will
not be known, so heavy was
her tulle veil. But she did lift
her veil, give a whiff to move
it and take in a deep draft of
fresh air before dropping it. It
was a quick and surreptitious
move, but those close to her,
as I was, felt glad she could.
It must have been stiling.
Prince Charles spoke in a
deep and sincere way, while
Lady Diana had a light,
rather girlish voice and we
were reminded that she had
only just turned 20, only
two years older than Lady
Sarah, now her niece.
I had a very good seat in St Paul’s. I was at the end of
the second row, which is slightly above the front row, and
I had a nice pillar, against which I could lean when I wanted
to rise slightly from my seat to see more clearly what was
going on at the altar. Of all the seven royal weddings I
have attended, this was by far the most wonderful in its
excitement, loveliness and romance.
It was a heart-warming occasion,
and it was not my splendid
position that made me so
emotional: it was them – Charles
and Diana – everything they
did, the way they looked at each
other, touched each other with
such tenderness and the deep
understanding of one for the other,
which glowed and came through as
a bright lame when Diana luffed
her lines. In her nervousness she
said, “I take thee Philip Charles”,
instead of “Charles Philip”. Was the
Prince covering up for her, making
her feel better about it, when he
luffed his responses and left out the
word “worldly” and said “thy”
instead of “my” when he said “and
all thy goods I thee endow”?
Together the bride and groom
had planned the music and in the
magniicent setting of St Paul’s it
was the “wonderful musical and
emotional experience” the Prince
had hoped for.
Kiri Te Kanawa may have said
“Charles who?” when she received
the message that he wished her to
sing at his wedding, but her presentation ofLet the Bright
Seraphimwas a heart-felt contribution to a splendid
ceremony. If a wedding has a star after the bride and
groom, Kiri was the star of St Paul’s. The New Zealand
soprano’s notes, backed by the Bach Choir, and the voices
of the choir boys with smoothed heads, looking like
cherubs in their luted collars, illed the Cathedral with
their purity. The silver trumpets of the State Trumpeters
of the Household Cavalry were a curtain-raiser to this
great musical experience as the wide Cathedral doors
opened for the bride and her retinue.
We were reminded that the wedding of Prince Charles to
Lady Diana was at heart a family wedding by the singing
of the simple hymns, all family favourites.
Princess Anne, whose lowered hat picked up the colours
of the lowers in her pretty dress, which was rather short
for present-day fashions, looked divine from the waist up.
Her hat, like a Victorian posy of lowers, didn’t budge as
she sang the wedding hymns with gusto.
Princess Margaret, who loves to sing, trilled away so
happily one wondered whether it was from pride. Her
daughter Lady Sarah Armstrong-Jones had, once again,
proved she could cope well during important occasions,
and there was her joy that she, who once called herself
“Charlie’s aunt”, was well pleased at his happiness.
The Queen sang and it did seem to relax her, for she had
a rather solemn look at other times. Prince Philip sang, and
so did the supporters, Prince Andrew, in his
naval uniform, and Prince Edward – who
everyone remarked was getting quite tall
and dishy. The match-makers, Queen
Elizabeth, the Queen Mother, and Ruth,
Lady Fermoy, the other grandmother, looked
knowingly across the aisle at one another
and the couple’s fathers seemed to nod to
each other as if to agree, that this was a
marriage to fulill their dearest dreams.→This was a
marriage to fulll
their dearest
dreams.