Chapter 6 Capital Exploration #2
Laughingly agreeing that this was indeed a logical choice—no one stating aloud that it was also beneficial to ensure the kisses were more than chaste cheek pecks—the group gave their full attention to the looming redbrick gatehouse and crenelated turrets of Saint James’s Palace.
The carriage slowed to a crawl, pedestrians and wheeled vehicles crowding the terminal end of the street bearing the royal residence’s name where it abutted Pall Mall.
Darcy instructed the coachman to halt, and the small group disembarked onto the cobblestoned walkway.
As Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley conversed quietly with the driver, Lizzy, lost in admiration of the palace, stepped away from her sister and Georgiana. She did not hear Mr. Darcy approach, jolting when he spoke from close behind her right shoulder.
“Do not be ashamed if your opinion of Saint James’s Palace is less than favorable, Elizabeth. You would not be the first person to lay fresh eyes upon the palace and note its appearance as rather mundane, particularly in comparison to royal castles on the Continent.”
“I can’t argue from the standpoint of comparing to the elaborate palaces of France or Germany, at least based on paintings I’ve seen. But we have our history to be proud of, which transcends grandeur or opulent construction. I rather like that we are a country of understated aesthetics.”
“I agree, although I doubt anyone would deem baroque or gothic as ‘understated’ design aesthetics. My knowledge of architecture is minimal yet enough to comprehend the superb Tudor styling of Saint James’s Palace.
The designers and engineers employed by King Henry built a solid structure expressing the artistic philosophy of the mid-sixteenth century.
Thankfully, with few exceptions, subsequent additions and repairs, such as after the horrific fire seven years ago, have maintained the Tudor influence. ”
“Yes, they have. It is precisely like the paintings and etchings I’ve seen. And, now that I am here, I believe my father took us past the palace when I was too young to appreciate the significance. It is a hazy memory. In any case, I am not disappointed.”
Before more could be said, Mr. Bingley, with a sunny Jane holding his arm, drew alongside. Flipping open his pocket watch, he lifted it up for Darcy to see, and both men nodded.
“More mysteries, Mr. Darcy? Are we on a tight schedule?”
“Only for the present, Miss Elizabeth.” Darcy offered one arm to his fiancée and the other to his sister, both ladies accepting.
Following behind Bingley and Jane, he clarified in a pitch loud enough for the duo to hear, “We have fifteen minutes to elbow our way through the loitering onlookers and costermongers taking advantage of the event to sell their wares. By eleven o’clock promptly, we must be in place. ”
“Is guessing the event part of the challenge, Brother? I would hate for either Miss Bennet or Miss Elizabeth to miss an opportunity to secure a win.”
“My, aren’t you the cheeky imp today!” Darcy laughed at his sister’s belated flush. “The question is a valid one, however. Should we allow a guess, Bingley?”
Before Mr. Bingley could answer, however, Lizzy proclaimed with mock imperiousness, “I shall claim ignorance. Whether true or feigned to swell your confidence and lead to further slips of the tongue, I shall not say.”
“An interesting tactic, Lizzy,” Jane tossed over her shoulder, “but since I know a fact of history to boast of, a rarity for me, I shall make a guess. At eleven o’clock is the Changing of the Guard Colour Ceremony. Am I correct?”
“Ha! The score is even! One kiss for the gentlemen, and one for the ladies. Well done, my dear Miss Bennet.”
Lizzy could only see a portion of Mr. Bingley’s face as he gazed upon her sister, but the adoration was easily discernible.
Smiling, she squeezed Darcy’s arm tighter against her side, using the excuse of another pedestrian for the improper closeness.
Their adventure was just beginning, yet already it was marvelous!
“This is also Georgiana’s first experience watching the Changing of the Guard ceremony,” Darcy informed them, as they crossed the active intersection. “Thus, it is an occasion worthy of making special arrangements. Come!”
Walking briskly with a spring in his step, he led them directly to the main gate, above which an enormous triangular clock hung, marking the approaching eleven o’clock hour.
Pausing only to release the light grip of feminine hands on his arms, Darcy stepped to a smaller portal to the left of the gate and spoke to the sentry inside.
A few moments later, he gestured to the others, and together they entered through the opened gateway into a high-vaulted and arched tunnel with white plastered walls.
The armed guard who escorted them did not utter a single word, nor did the two stoic, immobile guards stationed on either side of the gaping entry.
They may have been silent and impassive in appearance, yet no one doubted their alertness or capability to respond swiftly, and brutally if necessary, to any threat.
It was a fact both comforting and unnerving, something Lizzy realized she was not alone in feeling when a trembling Georgiana pressed closer to her side.
Fortunately, the tunnel was lit with oil lamps, even in daytime, and not exceedingly long.
The expansive courtyard beyond was readily visible, brilliant sunlight shining onto the gray-stone covered ground.
Their escort wordlessly indicated the covered colonnade to their right, the wide sheltered piazza spanning the entire western wall of the courtyard.
Some two dozen spectators were already present, a few politely greeting the new arrivals as they filled the gap between two of the thick pillars supporting the roof.
There were no barricades preventing crossing onto the vacant courtyard, yet instinctively everyone knew to stay behind the pillars.
Furthermore, while not completely silent, those who talked did so in soft tones barely above a whisper, including Mr. Darcy, who stood between Lizzy and Georgiana and bent slightly before launching into a murmured commentary.
“On the off-chance my sister’s costly education has excluded this section of our history…
” He paused to flash an amused grin her direction.
“…allow me to elucidate on a few facts as we wait. First, we are standing in the Colour Court of Saint James’s Palace, so named due to the ceremony we are about to witness wherein the regimental flags, known as ‘colours’ are exchanged.
It is necessary to note that while formal, as all such procedures are, the purpose of the guard change ceremony is of vital importance.
In brief, the old guard is being replaced by the new guard, that is the regimental troops incoming for the next twenty-four hours. Ah, here they come now.”
Indeed, a line of guards was entering the courtyard via a corner archway. The only sound the rhythmic clap of booted heels on stone, they marched in a single file until standing in an exact square formation evenly spaced to cover roughly half of the open area.
As they marched in, Darcy again bent to deliver a hushed history lesson, as several others amongst the crowd were also doing.
“The foot guard regiments that form the household division date to the 1660 restoration of Charles II to the throne, and, in fact, a bit before that, when he raised them while in exile. These designated troops have guarded the sovereign, the royal palaces, and other important places for nearly two hundred years. There are three or perhaps four regiments in the infantry—”
“Wait,” Georgiana interrupted, a teasing lilt to her voice, “is there a fact my learned brother is unsure of? Say it is not so!”
“I confess my military knowledge is incomplete. I leave that field to your cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. Of course, now that you point it out, a dearth in education is a tragedy which should never be allowed to remain unchecked. Perhaps we should enter into a comprehensive course of study on military history, tactics, and ceremonies. We might as well include the major wars and battles also. How does that sound, Miss Darcy?”
His expression was utterly serious, his brow arched and lips stern, as he gazed down at his no-longer-jolly sister.
Even Lizzy was unsure how much of his statement was a jest. Then, just when nearly all color had drained from Georgiana’s face, a smile broke and he laughed.
Tweaking her nose, he said, “I’ll spare you the torture of severe lessons, my dear.
I do, after all, have much better things to do with my time in the months ahead. ”
He glanced at Lizzy, warmth and renewed humor lighting his countenance.
“However, if I may continue with the miniature history lesson, without further impertinent interruptions?” Georgiana hastily and vigorously bobbed her head.
“I am fairly sure there are three foot-guard regiments in the household division. The Grenadier, Coldstream, and Scots regiments. There are also the household cavalry regiments, but we won’t see those guards here today.
“Now, these regimental soldiers perform many duties, including fighting in times of war, but will always have a portion in London, or wherever the monarch and royal family members are. The primary royal residence was the Palace of Whitehall, of course, until a fire destroyed the bulk of it in 1689. Upon establishing the official royal residence here, the foot guards transitioned here as well, but the processional we are about to see has remained largely unchanged. Now, listen.”