The cocktail party Inside the big house
Badminton’s Thursday-night cocktail party is a special treat which few get the chance to sample. Martha Terry peeks behind closed doors in the big house
IT’S one of the most sought-after invitations in ‘Beaufortshire’,” says Badminton’s press officer Julian Seaman, a veteran of some four decades of the Thursday-night drinks party.
But what actually happens at this VIP event — and who is invited? It’s shrouded in mystery for the hoi polloi, because without the reassuringly stiff invitation from the Duke and Duchess, you can’t come in. There is essentially no press, no publicity and no photography to reveal what goes on behind those 17th-century walls.
In fact, hundreds of people are milling around Badminton House’s illustrious ground floor that first Thursday evening in May. Besides the riders and owners, every person working for Badminton — from the crossingpoint stewards to the ground jury — is invited, plus local tenant farmers. It’s a social institution to kick-start the great event.
FORMER H&H editor Lucy Higginson describes it as “one of the great secrets of Badminton”.
“I understand not many media are invited,” she says. “It’s a window into a special world. You queue up by the side entrance and the late Duke [David Somerset, 11th Duke of Beaufort, who died last year] and the Duchess would greet everyone personally. Then the party filters on through much of the ground floor, where you can gaze at the fabulous paintings
and flowers. It’s a wonderful peek into this great English country house.”
Fence judge Susie Brassey has been attending since 1981.
“It’s wonderful to be inside that marvellous house, with all its fantastic treasures, paintings and furniture, things going back to previous dukes for centuries,” she says. “I love the paintings in the Old Hall, of the Dukes’ favourite horses and hunting scenes.”
Event rider Emily King admits she “has been trying to sneak in since I was a kid”.
“I first got to go in my early teens in my capacity as groom for my mother — that was my payment,” says Emily, who has since attended as a rider. “It was an incredible privilege at that age to see the famous house from the inside. The top riders are like family to me, but it was special to see them glammed up, in that beautiful house.”
Julian Seaman, who first went as a rider in his late teens, believes he’s mastered the art of this party. With the number of guests somewhere around the 500 mark, it’s a job to wag chins with everyone.
“You have to make very good friends with one waitress, who will keep you topped up with champagne and canapés all evening, and you stand in one spot,” he says. “Everyone will come past you at some point, so you can meet them all. [Event director] Hugh Thomas stands in the rotunda in the middle of the house.
“After shaking the Duke and Duchess’ hands on entering — with your name announced by the butler — I hang left and go into the Old Hall, where the shuttlecock game was invented. The measurements of that room are the proportions of a badminton court, which is rather historic.
“There are Grinling Gibbons carvings on the wall, and a couple of Canalettos, but what’s nice with these great big houses is that a drinks party like this really brings them to life. It’s a huge place for three people to live in, but at least once a year, it’s heaving with people and it’s rather joyful. On a nice evening, we spill out into the garden.”
Despite the proportions, most guests are struck by how homely the house is. As Susie points out — “it’s lived-in; these aren’t just showrooms open to the public”.
“I used to chortle about the number of reading glasses scattered around,” says Lucy. “It’s a hazard of living in a huge house, you need a pair in every room, and it shows how lived-in this grand stamp of a house is.”
WHAT do 500-odd people talk about on the eve of the greatest event of the year? The weather, certainly, and with more passion than most on that subject. With free-flowing champagne, surely this is a moment for some shenanigans. But gossip-mongers hoping for tales of inebriated eventers tumbling into the lake, or drunken jury leaping off the ha-ha will be disappointed.
“It’s just a lovely evening,” says Emily. “It’s more of a mingling and networking event than a swinging-from-the-chandeliers occasion.”
Lucy agrees: “There are masses of people with delicious nibbles and drinks, but no one gets very well-oiled. It’s a chance to bump into riders and owners, and to meet other figures, such as the man who’s spent years manning a road crossing in a bowler hat, the vets, or those doing unglamorous jobs like marshalling.”
Emily says that although when she arrives she tries to mingle and chat, conversation quickly turns to the competition.
“The first day has happened, the ball’s rolling and the course-designers are there,” she says. “Giuseppe della Chiesa [course-designer in the year she was competing] was very open to chatting about his courses.”
Becky Woolven, a debutant last year, says that besides soaking in the atmosphere, the competition was the hot topic.
“It’s quite buzzy, a really special occasion and it felt surreal,” she says. “Everyone’s incredibly welcoming and it’s lovely to chat to the other riders, particularly about the cross-country course.” After a couple of hours, guests should be aware of the Badminton code to depart. The late Duke would switch the lights on and off.
“They flash the lights and that’s their sign it’s time to go,” says Julian.
With a flick of a switch the party’s over, and the serious work begins.