‘Her tiara broke’
The Queen’s cousin and bridesmaid tells Susan Springate her memories of the day
Lady Pamela Hicks (née Mountbatten), third cousin of the Queen and first cousin to Prince Philip, is one of only two surviving bridesmaids from the Queen’s wedding in 1947 – the other is Princess Alexandra of Kent. Pamela, now aged 88, had to hurry back to England for the occasion from India, where her father was Britain’s last Viceroy.
‘It was all a tremendous rush. All the other bridesmaids had endless rehearsals, but I was thrown in the deep end, because by the time we arrived in London, there was less than a week to go. I only had time for two dress fittings.
My parents had initially decided that, with everything going on in post-partition India, they wouldn’t go and it was Nehru who insisted they attend. He said if they didn’t go to the future Queen’s wedding, people would think the situation was worse than it was.
Ghandiji [Ghandi] was always asking me about ‘the happy event’. But he was very concerned about what to give them. It was my father who said: ‘If you really want to give them something, spin a piece of cloth, and that will be put with the crown jewels’. Queen Mary was less than impressed. She said: ‘What is this ghastly piece of fabric doing there?’ She thought it was from his ‘loin cloth’.
The day itself was like a fairy tale. We got ready at Buckingham Palace. There was a moment of sheer panic when the bride’s tiara broke. An aide had to be bundled into a taxi and sent across London to have it fixed – and then, just as she was about to leave for Westminster Abbey, her bouquet could not be found. It transpired it had been popped in a cupboard to remain cool. Throughout this, Princess Elizabeth remained unflustered and calm.
It was overwhelming to hear the crowd cheering. Being the tallest, Lady Caroline Scott and I were at the back of the procession, while Princesses Margaret and Alexandra were at the front, making sure the bride’s veil was in place and her train unfurled before we set off down the aisle. We had been warned to veer right to avoid walking on the grave of the Unknown Warrior, but one of the pages, Prince Michael of Kent, stepped right on it.
The service was very moving, and after the veil was pulled back from Princess Elizabeth’s face, you could see her beautiful complexion – and, of course, the bridegroom was a devastatingly handsome naval officer. They were a dream couple.
We followed the newly-weds back to the palace and on to the balcony. We were met by an incredible sight: the police had been holding everyone back, but when we came out, they let them go and we could see – and hear – a sea of people surging forward. Every time the couple waved, the volume increased.
Later, after the wedding breakfast, when the couple were ready to leave, we hurried through the courtyard to shower them with rose petals. Princess Elizabeth was delighted to discover that her favourite corgi, Susan, had been hidden under a rug in her carriage, so that she could join them for their honeymoon at Broadlands, our family home in Hampshire. It was a home-from-home for them both, because Philip had come throughout his youth, and the Princess had visited for endless weekends.
Before they left, Philip gave each of us bridesmaids a silver and rose-gold powder compact engraved with the initials E and P. They were all slightly different: mine has six little sapphires down the middle. I used to have it in my bag all the time, but it is safely tucked away now.
My father has been accused of matchmaking them, but I don’t think for a moment he did. I think he might have seen Prince Philip showing off madly that day in Dartmouth in 1939, when she was sitting there watching him, all eyes and ears. I think he probably looked on and thought, ‘Ah! That would be rather good, wouldn’t it?’ But Elizabeth was only 13. She, however, clocked Philip immediately – and she has never thought of anyone else since.
And how right she was. Few other couples have been so happily married for 70 years and so strongly united, that they have overcome every difficulty they have faced – and remain so obviously in love.”
Daughter of Empire: Life as a Mountbatten by Pamela Hicks is published by Weidenfeld & Nicolson (£8.99). To order your copy for £7.99 plus p&p call 0844 871 1514 or visit books.telegraph.co.uk