For Californians, All England Was a Big Party : Wedding or Not, Royalty Watching Became the Sport

They didn’t come to attend the wedding of Prince Andrew and Sarah Ferguson; they came to be part of the party.

And the party was on the streets, in hotels, restaurants and pubs, wherever there were three or more people and/or a television set Wednesday--and on into the night.

From the east end of London, Tumbridge Wells, Coventry, down from South Wales and Scotland, from Germany and Italy and Canada, even from Australia and certainly from the United States, people came. Some especially for the occasion, others because they happened to be in the general neighborhood of England and heard there was a party going on.

Ready to Camp Out

Some came ready to camp out on the procession route: warm sweaters, plastic sheets in case of rain and maybe a sign to tell the queen and Andy and Fergie that “Enid and Jean Tarlet wish you luck.”

Others came to take in the festivities, from the palace to the abbey, many stopping in a pub or two, or buying a bottle of wine and a Union Jack along the way. And somehow, just about everybody caught the wedding on TV, at least in reruns. But that was OK. What counted was getting a good view of the dress, seeing if Fergie really would promise to “love, honor and obey” and, for the Americans, would the royal couple kiss at ceremony’s end. (They didn’t.)

“Sure, I could have watched it at home,” said Joyce Timmerman, a Los Angeles travel agent who’d come to London as part of a promotion by Rank Hotels Ltd., British Airways and the British Tourist Authority, and was watching the wedding--mimosa in hand--on a large-screen television at the Royal Lancaster Hotel. “But it wouldn’t have been the same. There’s something special about being here.”

Earlier, there were Barbara Lecler and her daughter, Christine, just in from Los Angeles on Tuesday morning and on Tuesday night, well positioned--maybe 100 yards from Buckingham Palace--on the procession route.

It was cold and the Leclers, who’ve done a few Rose Parades in their time, were huddled in layers of sweaters plus the bedspreads from their hotel room.

Camping out was not planned, they said. They’d just come to the route to decide where to stand on Wednesday and “well, it was filling up so fast that we decided to stay,” said Barbara Lecler, a registered nurse from Arcadia. Mother and daughter laughed. They had hurried back to their hotel room, they said, stuffed the bedspread into a suitcase and skulked out.

Some people around the Leclers were sleeping, small flags covering their faces, and braving the sounds of singing and occasional cheers at the appearance of a car carrying someone potentially important. (By 1 a.m. though, there were cheers for a garbage truck.) “We saw the Queen,” said Christine Lecler, a high school student. “But no one else. I guess we’ll sleep a bit tonight if we don’t get stepped on.”

“Actually,” her mother added, “compared to the Rose Parade, this is very easy.”

Wedding or not, Royalty Watching, as always, was a continuing sport for visitors here.

One, John Porteous of Vancouver, British Columbia, was so successful Tuesday that he showed up 30 minutes late at the theater. He apologized as he slipped into the 15th row at the new high-tech musical, “Time,” that he’d been at Buckingham Palace and “just gotten caught up in the fever.”

Porteous, director of finance for a Vancouver hospital, has walked through Mayfair, been turned away for tea at the Ritz Hotel (“I wasn’t wearing a tie”), stopped by the Queen Mother’s residence, then raced over to Buckingham Palace, where he lucked out. There he saw Princess Diana driving herself in a Ford Escort; Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher going in for her every-Tuesday meeting with the queen (they also meet on Thursdays); Prince Philip and several Africans who, Porteous suspected, were going in to talk with the queen about the Commonwealth Games. Porteous had been to the theater every night since his arrival in London a week before. “But not tomorrow, because that’s the wedding and that will take all day.”

Procession Route

Wednesday. Wedding day. If you weren’t on the procession route, taxi drivers said, it was like a Sunday. No traffic and hardly anyone even out walking.

Over at the Royal Lancaster Hotel, 43 Americans plus about 12 Britons--all involved in some way with British travel or tourism--were watching on a large-screen television.

This was the civilized way to do it--at least if you couldn’t be at the wedding itself. There was no danger of getting wet or cold. There was an open bar and plenty of food. And they loved it. It was by seeing the wedding on the telly, after all, but you could:

--Learn that all the bands along the procession route were obliged to break into the National Anthem whenever the queen’s car appeared, so that’s all Her Majesty heard for 45 minutes. For Andrew, newly named the Duke of York, they could play only the first six bars of the National Anthem. Sarah only got popular tunes as her carriage passed by on the way to the wedding. On the way back, however, she too got the first six bars.

--Build up the exchange of vows into a truly dramatic moment, casually watching and chatting until the moment when Sarah was to “love, honor and obey. “ Silence--then as Sarah did, a low groan from all the women in the room and laughter and applause from the men.

--Get a good view of the hats. “I love the Queen Mother,” said Wayne Wright of Laguna Hills. “She reminds me of Bella Abzug.” “And Princess Di,” added Ellen Saxe of Sherman Oaks, “she really looks quite nice, don’t you think?”

Then there was a lull. Between 3 and 5:30 p.m., according to a rather complicated British law, no liquor can be served. So there were all these people, a tad tired but ready to party and no place to go. Except to the big sale at Harrods or to search for straggling royalty.

Seen It All Coming Out

Bertram and Gloria Leff of New York had just come from Westminster Abbey where they had missed the processional going in, but had seen it all coming out and were now walking along The Mall by Buckingham Palace. Obviously nothing was happening here. Most people had packed up and left, replaced by street cleaners. Police still strolled the area. They eyed the hangers-on sympathetically. “There’s nothing more,” one said. “These poor blokes are just too tired to move.”

The Leffs had arrived in London the day before. “I think what was really impressive,” Leff said, “was the public display of loyalty to the queen.” Did they know who all the royalty were? “No, but there was this lady standing next to us at the Abbey. She knew them all.”

For serious royalty watchers, the place to be was Claridge’s Hotel around 7 p.m. following the wedding. There were other things to do, of course. Just about every pub had either concocted a special wedding drink or was selling beer at half price. Most restaurants were offering special meals and all the big hotels had some sort of wedding extravaganza, many black tie.

And actually, you could do all of those things and still get to Claridge’s. Now Claridge’s also had a 70-per-person dinner dance schedule. But more importantly, the ballroom at Claridge’s was the site of a party being given by Lady Elizabeth Anson, sister of the Earl of Leichfield, wife of Baronet Sir Geoffrey Shakerley and party-giver supreme. This was the party everyone was coming to--even the queen--and it wasn’t even a wedding party. Rather, according to the official reports, it was a celebration of the hostess’ 45th birthday, the 25th anniversary of her company, Party Planners, and the publication of her book, “How To Interchange Stylishly.”

Coincidentally, however, Lady Elizabeth has held a similar party on the night of Prince Charles’ wedding. At that bash, according to London Daily Mail columnist Nigel Dempster, nobody left until dawn. For this time around, the hostess let it be known she planned to have her 300 guests sit on the floor to watch a videotape of the wedding and that a breakfast would be served. It was assumed there would be plenty of Champagne.

Royalty on the Way

And the royals were there. What’s more, said Chief Inspector Ken Pridige of the London police, there’s a way to tell when they’re on their way. “Look down the street there,” he said, adjusting the barricade so that people could get a better view. “Now you see the taxis and the cars pulling up. When it’s royalty, major royalty, you’ll see headlights. They put them on two blocks away. That way we can move the other cars on.”

The earliest arrivals were what the press and onlookers called minor royalty. Then came people “not royal,” said Pridige, “just wealthy.” But by 7:45 p.m.--the party started at 7:30--Rolls-Royce with their headlights on were coming one after another. And in between, other interesting people who, if the press didn’t know who they were--the police and public certainly did:

David Frost and wife Camilla (big cheer); Prince and Princess Michael of Kent (another big cheer and the observation by note-taking reporters that the princess’ hot pink satin dress was “the Dynasty look”); Princess Margaret (medium cheer) with her children, Lady Sarah Armstrong-Jones and David Viscount Limley; the Norwegian royal family (big cheer); Princess Diana in a shimmering and very slim emerald green dress (very big cheer) and Prince Charles; Douglas Fairbanks Jr. (cheer); Princess Margaret’s ex-husband, Antony Armstrong-Jones, and his wife, Lucy (big cheer). They came in taxis, Rolls-Royce and even an Austin pulled up at the door and let out a couple in elegant dress.

Around 8:15, heralded by no police on motorcycles, no bright headlights nor insignia on her car: the queen herself. In the back seat of a green Jaguar. She wore a yellow silk dress and was accompanied by her last unmarried son, Prince Edward. She walked in quietly, almost missed. Especially in comparison to the next car that pulled up, a black Chevrolet limousine preceded by three motorcycles and eight Secret Service men. It was Nancy Reagan, dressed in black and white, smiling for photographers and waving at the crowd (very big cheer.)

“This is almost as good as the wedding,” a woman from Kensington said. “I wish our royalty would wave like yours.”