parties go with a swing both in Scotland and, more importantly, in London. It was famously said of him that if you tried to stop him filling your glass by putting your hand over it he would simply pour the wine through your fingers.
Billy gradually went from opening doors for pretty much anyone senior to him to having doors opened for him by the junior staff once it was realised that the Queen Mother had a special affection for him. All this was entirely unofficial. It was simply that the Queen Mother was gradually coming to rely more and more on this curiously talented young man. She liked him in the early days because he was very funny when he wanted to be, as John Hobsom remembered.
It is a great pity no one made a tape recording of Billy in full flow – I mean in full conversational flow. He could be very funny just in telling a story that might not in itself be funny at all, by which I mean there was no punch line. It was all to do with his delivery, the way he drawled out certain key words, and nothing to do with telling jokes. There was something wonderfully theatrical about his tone, his timing and the gestures he made. I can quite see why the Queen Mother loved having him around. He had an ability to sing for his supper, as it were, that hardly anyone else has ever had.
But he also had a tremendous ability to flounce out in a rage when the need arose. Sometimes he was genuinely cross; at others it was all a pretence. He would do it and the Queen Mother was always amused – so long as he hadn’t really lost his temper. She just found him good company and company was what the Queen Mother craved throughout her long life.
Billy could sense when the Queen Mother’s luncheon guests had left the room which of them it was safe to ridicule or at least gently mock. He very rarely misjudged it. And her life was usually so serious that she found his attitude delightfully entertaining.
‘William, you must tell me what you thought of so and so,’ she would say.
Billy would reply by raising his eyebrows, tossing his head a little to one side and saying, ‘Well, I’m afraid words simply fail me. Pearls before swine.’
The Queen Mother would throw her head back and laugh out loud.
By contrast, one or two of the advisers and equerries were seen as terrific bores, as one of Billy’s closest friends recalled:
They were loyal, certainly, but often no fun at all. They’d got their jobs in the royal palaces because, despite the advantages of birth and education, they were otherwise completely unsuited to any kind of work in the modern world. Well, that was what William rather bitchily used to say. And they were just too serious.
John Hobsom explained that though the Queen Mother had many duties to fulfil – official duties that is – she also had a tremendous amount of time that could have hung very heavily indeed without people like Billy.
She broke up her long, occasionally dreary days by inviting old friends for regular lunches and dinner parties. If she did not have an official public engagement she would always invite old friends to Clarence House – less so to Birkhall or the Castle of Mey – but above all things she detested lunching alone. She avoided it at all costs and in truth she didn’t much like dining with the other royals either because they were not likely to be as amusing as her friends. Films about the royals have sometimes shown the family having breakfast or lunch together, but this is entirely wrong. It really did not happen that often.
Favoured luncheon guests included many of Elizabeth’s contemporaries – from the days when she first came out, as aristocratic girls still did in the 1920s. Several of these aristocratic friendsfrom her youth had become her ladies in waiting. Very few have ever spoken of their experiences at Clarence House – no doubt with the lesson of Nanny Crawford always before their eyes – but Lady Frances Campbell-Preston, who was a lady in waiting to the Queen
Billy gradually went from opening doors for pretty much anyone senior to him to having doors opened for him by the junior staff once it was realised that the Queen Mother had a special affection for him. All this was entirely unofficial. It was simply that the Queen Mother was gradually coming to rely more and more on this curiously talented young man. She liked him in the early days because he was very funny when he wanted to be, as John Hobsom remembered.
It is a great pity no one made a tape recording of Billy in full flow – I mean in full conversational flow. He could be very funny just in telling a story that might not in itself be funny at all, by which I mean there was no punch line. It was all to do with his delivery, the way he drawled out certain key words, and nothing to do with telling jokes. There was something wonderfully theatrical about his tone, his timing and the gestures he made. I can quite see why the Queen Mother loved having him around. He had an ability to sing for his supper, as it were, that hardly anyone else has ever had.
But he also had a tremendous ability to flounce out in a rage when the need arose. Sometimes he was genuinely cross; at others it was all a pretence. He would do it and the Queen Mother was always amused – so long as he hadn’t really lost his temper. She just found him good company and company was what the Queen Mother craved throughout her long life.
Billy could sense when the Queen Mother’s luncheon guests had left the room which of them it was safe to ridicule or at least gently mock. He very rarely misjudged it. And her life was usually so serious that she found his attitude delightfully entertaining.
‘William, you must tell me what you thought of so and so,’ she would say.
Billy would reply by raising his eyebrows, tossing his head a little to one side and saying, ‘Well, I’m afraid words simply fail me. Pearls before swine.’
The Queen Mother would throw her head back and laugh out loud.
By contrast, one or two of the advisers and equerries were seen as terrific bores, as one of Billy’s closest friends recalled:
They were loyal, certainly, but often no fun at all. They’d got their jobs in the royal palaces because, despite the advantages of birth and education, they were otherwise completely unsuited to any kind of work in the modern world. Well, that was what William rather bitchily used to say. And they were just too serious.
John Hobsom explained that though the Queen Mother had many duties to fulfil – official duties that is – she also had a tremendous amount of time that could have hung very heavily indeed without people like Billy.
She broke up her long, occasionally dreary days by inviting old friends for regular lunches and dinner parties. If she did not have an official public engagement she would always invite old friends to Clarence House – less so to Birkhall or the Castle of Mey – but above all things she detested lunching alone. She avoided it at all costs and in truth she didn’t much like dining with the other royals either because they were not likely to be as amusing as her friends. Films about the royals have sometimes shown the family having breakfast or lunch together, but this is entirely wrong. It really did not happen that often.
Favoured luncheon guests included many of Elizabeth’s contemporaries – from the days when she first came out, as aristocratic girls still did in the 1920s. Several of these aristocratic friendsfrom her youth had become her ladies in waiting. Very few have ever spoken of their experiences at Clarence House – no doubt with the lesson of Nanny Crawford always before their eyes – but Lady Frances Campbell-Preston, who was a lady in waiting to the Queen
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