Swanning about on the Thames as Queen’s annual stocktake begins
Invited to join the most English of traditions, enjoys the pageantry, conservation and bucolic scenes of the Royal Swan Upping
It is early morning on Eton’s picture-postcard riverfront. Across a narrow footbridge over the Thames, Windsor Castle’s Curfew Tower casts a welcome shadow: it’s not yet nine o’clock and the temperature is hurtling towards 77F (25C). This being a most English of situations, little else will be spoken of today.
With the streams of tourist buses yet to arrive, all is quiet. Latecomers may end up kicking themselves, however, for down at the riverfront preparations are taking place for a rarely seen 800year-old tradition. It is the second day of the Royal Swan Upping, the annual census of Her Majesty’s swans, and David Barber, the Queen’s Swan Marker, is keen to get going.
“Leaving in five minutes, Uppers,” shouts Barber, whirling his hands around at an assembled group, all experienced rivermen or rowers known as Uppers (there’s yet to be a female among them), each of whom is assigned to one of six waiting wooden skiffs.
Contrary to popular belief, the Seigneur of the Swans, Queen Elizabeth II, does not own all mute swans in the United Kingdom. She can claim any around the country, but three other bodies are permitted limited ownership: the Ilchester family, which has a few in Abbotsbury, Dorset, and two ancient London Livery Companies, the Vintners and the Dyers. The Royal Family granted them rights to swans in exchange for wares in the 15th century.
The Queen only exercises her rights to the birds on the Thames. At the Upping, the Vintners and the Dyers, denoted by their white and navy colours, join the Crown in rowing for a 79-mile jaunt from Sunbury to Abingdon (a stretch of water where the main concentration of breeding pairs is found) over five days in July, when the cygnets are still with their parents.
In the days when swan was a delicacy, this event took the form of the world’s most elaborate stocktake; now the birds are protected, it’s more of a conservation exercise. Swans face myriad threats in this country and the cygnet total last year fell from 120 in 2014 to just 83.
“Careless dog owners let their animals roam near nests, then there’s fishing tackle which they eat, mink attacks and even shootings,” says Chris Spencer, 50, an Upper with the
Adult female swans, known as pens, lay up to seven eggs between April and May for about eight years of their lives Vintner company. The flotilla sets off from Windsor, aiming to finish the day in Cookham. The Uppers row diligently while each boat’s Swan Marker keeps his eyes peeled for cygnets. All adult swans on the river will have been accounted for in Uppings past, so it is only the newborns – still flightless and with their parents – that are of interest.
After 20 minutes, gliding along the Thames past waving locals and shirtless boat-dwellers, we’re yet to make a find. At a rest stop, however, excitement fills the air.
“All up!” comes the cry; a traditional sign that a cygnet has been spotted. Leaping back into their skiffs, Barber directs the three companies to encircle the family – two large adults and two balls of squeaking grey fluff – penning them in. It’s a slick, clattering ambush – the parent birds look rightly livid.
Adult swans are famously aggressive, especially around their young. For the record, yes, a swan probably could just about break a weak arm with a beat of its wing, but only in the same way that a Labrador could technically drag you off a cliff.
Taking good care, the Uppers scoop